#I convinced my son to play and it is so gratifying to be able to talk about it together

[frecklef0x]

Back on my Fallen Hero bullshit

[fuschiarulerinthebluebox]

I just finished my first run of Dragon Age: the Veilguard [FemNB Elf, Mourn Watch Spellblade with heavy Death Caller], and I just have to say what an incredible experience it was! Like it was genuinely fun to play, the banter was equal parts serious and funny, ALL of the companions got the chance to infodump about things they loved and their special interests (and oh my god the faction dialogues add SO MUCH SOUL). I was fully planning to romance Lucanis for my first run, and the SECOND that old man started complementing me about our profession I was DONE FOR. They had no business making Bone Daddy Emmrich that horny on main attractive. (I know Emmrich technically disapproves when you punch the warden, but I feel like that’s just on principal, because he’d never let a man disrespect you like that, but also trusts you to handle it)

(Don’t worry our skeleton son is still beating me at rock paper scissors)

Somehow I manage to get the Full Deck achievement (it’s because I’m stubborn and a completionist, and I hate leaving things unfinished), so that was super gratifying. The final quest was so TENSE, I thought for sure I messed something up. I know Devs have said there won’t be DLC but I’d absolutely love to be able to run around even more with this story.

Sabine “Rook” Ingellvar is definitely my canon run (and I love how she turned out)! Rook, Emmrich, and Lucanis are absolutely in a throuple and you can’t convince me otherwise.

[daleisgreat]

The Avengers: Endgame

Over the last couple months I finally upgraded to somewhat modern TV and gaming rigs in the form of a 55” Samsung 4KTV and Xbox Series X. I own three 4K UHD discs, but one I already covered a couple years back with my entry of the BluRay version that came bundled with the 4K disc of Die Hard. The other is a two pack of the first two John Wick films, and rest assured those will get their day in the sun here eventually. From my research, the Xbox Series X is not a top shelf 4K BluRay player, at least not at the system’s launch before presumable system software updates, but also sounds like a fairly better quality version of the drive that came in the Xbox One X|S, and also supports upscaling of regular BluRays to 4K. Coincidentally, on top of my movie backlog pile was a movie I absolutely wanted to take advantage of that 4K upscaling and thus here we are with today’s write-up for 2019’s The Avengers: Endgame (trailer). WARNING: Unlike nearly most of my other movie recaps I will be diving into serious spoiler territory ahead. The amount of hype leading up to Endgame was insurmountable. Anthony and Joseph Russo did an astounding job directing the first part in 2018’s Infinity War (read my entry for it here). Both that and Endgame top the three hour mark to squeeze in as many characters, references, periphery side plots and so much more from the previous 21 Marvel Cinematic Universe films that lead up to this finale. By accomplishing just that, both movies are the breeziest three hour viewings I have experienced because the Russo brothers do a commendable job at keeping the scenes flowing and doing their best to give everyone their proper time to shine. The ending of Infinity War saw Thanos (Josh Brolin) deliver the snap heard around the world that vanished half of all life in the entire universe. It was a soul-crushing downer of a cliffhanger to end on, but the post-credits tag hinting at the cry of help for Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) left crowds with a glimmer of hope. This being based around comic books there is the unwritten rule where no one truly stays dead either, so part of the experience going into Endgame was to see how the remaining Avengers plan to bring everybody back. Endgame kicks off with the fresh effects of ‘the snap’ when it starts with Hawkeye’s family all getting dusted from him in the middle of a picnic.

The film transitions to the remaining un-dusted Avengers squad of Nebula (Karen Gillan) and Iron Man (Robert Downer Jr.) floating aimlessly in space until the convenient deus ex machina that is Captain Marvel miraculously tracks them down and hauls them back to Earth. A few weeks Avengers HQ tracks down Thanos on an isolated planet and with Captain Marvel’s power, they anticlimactically kill him off in a brief scene. This was one of the parts of the film that did not sit well with me after building up Thanos as this unrivaled threat in all the previous films, and to have the Avengers cold-bloodedly put him down in quick order seems so……unlike them, but he did off half the universe so I understand how the Russo’s felt justified for filming it that way, but I cannot help that it did not come across right, and could have been handled better. Of course, a more proper Thanos battle would be coming later in the final act thanks to my pet peeve plot device that is…. …TIME TRAVEL!!!! This and alternate dimension traveling I despise and have turned me off to many shows over the years like Lost and CW’s DC shows. The worst of it is indeed present here because meaningful character deaths that happened in Infinity War to Loki (Tom Hiddleston) and Gamura (Karen Gillan) become undone and their sacrifices proved for naught. All that griping aside however, I will give the Russo brothers credit because even with those qualms I feel they pull off time travel and have it appear as more than a convenient storytelling method. Again, major props because that is a hell of a hurdle to overcome. The filmmakers go out of their way in a couple scenes to directly call out Back to the Future’s style of time travel bullshit, and have a couple characters ever-so-carefully explain in detail and for the laymen how “real” time travel works.

This is all thanks to a rambunctious rat who inadvertently zaps Ant Man (Paul Rudd) out of the Quantum Realm…after being trapped there five years due to his team being on the end of a dusting before bringing him back. Ant Man deduces upon his return that he is able to undo the dusting through his van-quantum-realm-contraption, and convinces the Avengers to conjure up a plan they cleverly dub the “Time Heist” to travel back to capture all the Infinity Gems Stones before Thanos does. I loved how these scenes played out, and there is a plethora of fan service throughout it as the three squads of Avengers jump to different periods like the final battle of the original Avengers film, and a 1970 military base where Howard Stark (John Slattery) unknowingly meets his son. Plans do not proceed swimmingly to say the least, and past timeline Thanos becomes clued in to their plan and thwarts the Avengers attempt at trying to undo the past in a CG showpiece for the ages with his assault on Avengers HQ. The CG fireworks continue to dazzle for the bulk of the final hour of the film with a climatic showdown between Thanos and his forces against The Avengers and the returning of the dusted Marvel characters. I have seen too many comic book films fail at translating over-the-top comic book action on the silver screen, but the Russo brothers always manage to pull it off. I fondly remember the theater crowd going gaga when Captain America (Chris Evans) summons Mjolnir and wallops Thanos with it. The women of Marvel have another moment to shine together where they collectively team up to kick ass. Moments of levity are brilliantly peppered in throughout the chaos for a much-needed chuckle from the nonstop adrenaline-boosting action. That final battle masterfully builds up to the dramatic sacrifice of Iron Man in the standout emotional scene of the film.

The resulting aftermath was heartwarmingly done here with a pre-recorded farewell from Iron Man, and a collage of nearly all the major and minor MCU characters at Iron Man’s funeral. I believe this is the first MCU film without a post-credits tag, and that is 100% fine by me, because the beginning of the credits is a lovingly crafted tribute to the original Avengers cast done in the fashion of the Original Series cast of Star Trek VI that resonated with me feeling the end of a pivotal era of the MCU that I have been largely enjoying since the original 2008 Iron Man. I usually do not dive into this much detail and spoilers when recapping the movies here, but due to this being the final chapter of this era of the MCU films I could not help myself, and believe me there is so much more I wanted to dive in here on because like I said, the Russo brothers crammed in an incredible amount of narrative into three hours. There is so much ground in here it is impossible for me to recap it all, and that it will in all likelihood be the fastest three hour movie you will ever endure. I did not get a chance to even touch on over-the-hill Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and the hybrid Bruce Banner/Hulk (Mark Ruffalo (spoiler: they both killed it!)). Endgame unsurprisingly did major bank at the box office, so I feel safe knowing most of you reading this already watched it by now which is another reason I went all out on the spoilers.

I re-watched the film for this entry a second time with commentary from the Russo brothers, and writers Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely, and that greatly helped explain some little tidbits that were easy to miss and/or not fully comprehend in the midst of the three hours. I know this is a little detail, but I want to give props to Marvel for being one of the few companies out there for shelling out resources to caption the commentary track! I exponentially appreciate it more than you know! The commentary helped with understanding why they did not do a lot for Black Widow’s (Scarlett Johansson) aftermath of her death because she has her prequel film set to release. Other notable takeaways from the commentary was how Stark’s “I am Iron Man” line was a last minute addition to the film, giving credit to Star Trek VI as inspiration for their credits sequence, being hopeful for Marvel capitalizing on Falcon donning Cap’s shield and lots of understandable love for the visual effects team for their hard work. Aside from the commentary track, the BluRay has a second disc with just under an hour of bonus material. There is the requisite short, but top-of-the-line gag reel that is standard in most Marvel Studios home videos. There are five minutes of deleted scenes worth a look, with some of them lightheartedly covering up plot holes. Remembering Stan Lee is a touching tribute to Stan, filled with archived interviews from him on his experiences in the cameos, and showing plenty of delightful off-camera interactions with the cast and crew. There are well done character profile pieces for Thor, Black Widow, Captain America and Iron Man, with each one having countless cast and crew state proper kudos to what the actors have done for those characters over the years. If you only have time for one then I recommend Man Out of Time: Creating Captain America, because it goes into a little more detail than the others and Chris Evans has some intriguing introspection from his years with the character. Finally, there are short, but worthwhile pieces on the Russo brothers and the women of the MCU that should not be skipped out on either.

As I mentioned above, the hype building up to Endgame was insurmountable, but Joseph and Anthony Russo overcame the odds and delivered a gratifying conclusion to this era of the MCU. Watching the BluRay upscaled in 4K on a TV about a third bigger than my previous set made it a grander experience too for those showpiece moments. Sure I had quibbles and nitpicks I mentioned above, but by and large those are easily overcome by how much the Russo brothers got it right with this film. I am kicking myself for waiting a year and a half to re-watch it, but picked up on a lot of little things that went right over mine and Drax’s heads the first time out. If you have yet to give The Avengers: Endgame another viewing, then do not hesitate because you will not regret once again taking in this landmark epic that delivered against all odds! Other Random Backlog Movie Blogs 3 12 Angry Men (1957) 12 Rounds 3: Lockdown 21 Jump Street The Accountant Angry Video Game Nerd: The Movie Atari: Game Over The Avengers: Age of Ultron The Avengers: Infinity War Batman: The Dark Knight Rises Batman: The Killing Joke Batman: Mask of the Phantasm Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice Bounty Hunters Cabin in the Woods Captain America: Civil War Captain America: The First Avenger Captain America: The Winter Soldier Christmas Eve The Clapper Clash of the Titans (1981) Clint Eastwood 11-pack Special The Condemned 2 Countdown Creed I & II Deck the Halls Detroit Rock City Die Hard Dredd The Eliminators The Equalizer Dirty Work Faster Fast and Furious I-VIII Field of Dreams Fight Club The Fighter For Love of the Game Good Will Hunting Gravity Grunt: The Wrestling Movie Guardians of the Galaxy Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 Hell Comes to Frogtown Hercules: Reborn Hitman I Like to Hurt People Indiana Jones 1-4 Ink The Interrogation Interstellar Jay and Silent Bob Reboot Jobs Joy Ride 1-3 Last Action Hero Major League Man of Steel Man on the Moon Man vs Snake Marine 3-6 Merry Friggin Christmas Metallica: Some Kind of Monster Mortal Kombat Mortal Kombat Legends: Scorpions Revenge National Treasure National Treasure: Book of Secrets Nintendo Quest Not for Resale Payback (Director’s Cut) Pulp Fiction The Punisher (1989) The Ref The Replacements Reservoir Dogs Rocky I-VIII Running Films Part 1 Running Films Part 2 San Andreas ScoobyDoo Wrestlemania Mystery Scott Pilgrim vs the World The Secret Life of Walter Mitty Shoot em Up Slacker Skyscraper Small Town Santa Steve Jobs Source Code Star Trek I-XIII Sully Take Me Home Tonight TMNT The Tooth Fairy 1 & 2 UHF Veronica Mars Vision Quest The War Wild The Wizard Wonder Woman The Wrestler (2008) X-Men: Apocalypse X-Men: Days of Future Past

[a--reader]

Revisiting Cersei Lannister

It’s been over a year since the final episode of Game of Thrones aired but I am still thinking about her, and the ending that she did not deserve. An ending that seemed like an after-thought, so small and forgettable for such a consequential character. 

Of course, Cersei is one of the more disliked characters in the series. And fair enough, so many of her actions are reprehensible. She mocks her brother’s dwarfism (not to mention tries to have him killed, but in the world of GOT that’s somewhat unremarkable) and repeatedly taunts a traumatized teenage girl (whose sufferings Cersei played a significant role in bringing about). She is rude, condescending, and cares nothing about causing the deaths of hundreds (thousands?) of innocent bystanders as collateral for achieving her aims.

But I also find her to be an extremely cathartic character to watch, in ways that feel both deeply personal as well as relevant to general conversations about  female wrath and revenge. 

Cersei is someone who has been assaulted, under-estimated, and ignored because of her gender. In this vaguely medieval patriarchal world, her wealth and status did not make her invulnerable to abuse. From early girlhood to motherhood, she was denied self-determination; used as a pawn in the plans of her father, husband, and even son. She lacked control her entire life. Her power stemmed solely from her connections to men: from what she was able to convince them to do. The facts and events of her life infuriated her, warped her into a frustrated, hateful person. And as the show progressed, that fury became more and more unfiltered. Cersei succeeds gaining control and power to an extent, but in that quest she becomes more and more isolated from those around her, more and more of a villain. They also made her wear a terrible wig. 

As someone accustomed to narratives of female characters as passive recipients to the violence of men, watching Cersei act on her anger in an unfiltered, unrestrained way felt, I’m somewhat ashamed to say, gratifying. So often in the stories consumed by the masses the anger of women is ineffective, there but without potency, often a joke or an excuse to take her less seriously. In Game of Thrones, everyone, even the most powerful kings and patriarchs, had to take Cersei seriously. Those who didn’t usually paid a steep price. 

 If nothing else, any antipathy towards Cersei should be expressed with the acknowledgement that her story is extremely complex, and worthy of more discernment than just blanket dislike. This is what elevates her above GOT’s other villains in my mind. Her actions bring her beyond the veil of redemption, but you understand how she got there. At her core, there was something there that was true and could have been righteous, and in some moments actually was.

[hiddlesgirl]

SH 320: City of Glass

By the Angel, there is so much to say about this episode. It was huge emotional rollercoaster; confrontations, goodbyes, tender moments, a huge battle and that special proposal. This was such an epic episode and (if that awful thing hadn’t happened on June 5th) it would have been the best season finale of the show; I would have been so devastated, excited and hyped for season four. The last scene wasn’t even the original episode ending which was even more of a cliff hanger; apparently we will figure out which scene it was because it’s pretty early on in 321.

Watching this episode is the most emotional I have even been watching an episode of Shadowhunters, in fact the only other time I can remember being this emotional watching an episode of a show was the Season 5 finale (and Series finale) of BBC Merlin. For 320; I was out of my seat, kneeling on the floor two feet away from my TV absolutely sobbing my heart out in those last 10 minutes. Amazing.

Now that Magnus is more composed you can see that he is still very suspicious of Asmodeus’ motives, he knows that his father is cunning and that he is playing nice for now but sooner or later his true intentions will be revealed. I really like the dynamic between them; Jack and Harry have a really great back and forth.

I also noticed that through the scene Magnus became physically closer to Asmodeus over the course of their conversation, he moved away initially but when he moves to leave he was shoulder to shoulder with him. I’m not sure if this was intentional or not but I think that it does subtlety show that Magnus still needs support and reassurance right now, that he is still vulnerable and is (perhaps subconsciously) seeking out comfort.

I absolutely adore Maryse, I think that her development and unlearning her past prejudices has made her one of the most changed characters and hers is one of the best overall character arcs in that respect; she is a very different person than she was. She has not only become more emotionally open but she has tried to make amends to numerous people for her past behaviour; Luke, Magnus, and her children.

She is worried that she may done or said something to jeopardise Alec and Magnus’ relationship; she has seen how much they love each other, how important their relationship is and how much it has changed her son for the better; and she doesn’t want to do anything to negatively affect that.

You can see her confusion and upset when Alec tells her he broke up with Magnus, she doesn’t understand why Alec would leave the person he was planning to propose to. Plus, she is worried about Alec because she can tell that he is not himself.

I really liked the interaction between Magnus, Lorenzo and Asmodeus; it was a little gratifying to see Lorenzo being fearful of Asmodeus. I laughed so hard when Asmodeus turned him into a chameleon; after everything Lorenzo has done to Magnus it is about time karma came back around for him. He did redeem himself a little by agreeing to take his magic back but there are so many things that  he has done that I don’t think he has time to atone for; the biggest probably being the fact that his entire grudge with Magnus is purely about jealousy.

You can see that Magnus enjoyed getting a little bit of payback, and you can’t blame him for that; he has been so out of control of his situation for so long, and a lot of that was down to Lorenzo (forbidding the other warlocks to help him in anyway, forcing Magnus to go to Edom in the first place and then making himself the only help available), that to take back some of that control is empowering. But you can also see that he is very conflicted, he is a kind and compassionate person at heart and he doesn’t enjoy hurting others so while it feels good to have some control he genuinely doesn’t enjoy this ‘revenge’.

We get to see just how manipulative, controlling and callous the Praetor is; they threaten to send Luke back to prison if he doesn’t do as he’s told. Luke is now indebted to them and he is going to struggle with that I think because he has a strong moral compass, I am very concerned about what plans the Praetor have for him and that vial of serum.

Although I want to cringe (and I did) when Jonathan moves to kiss Clary I also understand the reasoning behind it from his perspective. He was raised by Lilith who has a very skewed version of love and she also kissed him on the mouth. It seems that Jonathan has no concept of the boundaries between different types of love and how to demonstrate them.

I have really enjoyed dark Clary because it is interesting to see what kind of person she could have been, or could have become, if she was raised by Valentine; plus Kat does a great job. I thought the dynamic between her and Jonathan was very interesting too, she is very much the authority between them; he always ends up deferring to her. I wondering if this was because he didn’t want to upset her or cause her to leave, wanting to please her so that she wouldn’t abandon him.

I love the scene between Maryse and Magnus; my heart soared when Maryse said ‘stop, you know I love you’ because Magnus hasn’t had a mother in centuries (and he felt rejected by her) so to have the mother of the man he is in love with completely accept him into her heart and family must be amazing. Plus, again, it shows how far Maryse and her relationship with Magnus has come; in Season one and 2A she couldn’t even call him by his name, only calling him ‘downworlder’ or ‘warlock’; now, she has come to know him, accept him, appreciate him and love him. I’m not crying, you’re crying.

I got so excited when she told him about the engagement plan; she knew that he would need to be convinced of Alec’s love and had no qualms about telling him this. She knows that Alec would never tell him but Magnus deserves to know just how much Alec loves him; she is doing everything she can to bring them back together because she wants them both to be happy. I love Maryse with my whole ass heart.

Maia tells Jordan she doesn’t want the serum, she has come to terms with her new life and she doesn’t want to have to make another fresh start; she has a life here, with a pack and friends. She has worked hard to build this new life for herself and no matter the troubles she may have she doesn’t want to give that up. She knows that becoming a mundane again won’t help her; it would only isolate her because she would no longer have a pack or be part of this community she has found.

I don’t like Jordan but I think this was very well done and emotional scene; both Alisha and Chai did an amazing job. I think that it is the first time I felt some sympathy for Jordan, he was starting to turn his life around and make amends for his past mistakes, and now he won’t get the chance. I feel so much sympathy for Maia because she has been able to let go of the hurt and resentment, to get closure on that part of her past. Now she is losing this person all over again.

I love the confrontation scene between Magnus and Asmodeus, I keep saying it but I absolutely love the energy and dynamic between them. Asmosdeus’ true motives come out, he wants Magnus in Edom so they can gain control over it; he has had a taste of Magnus’ power and how strong it is, he wants to use it and Magnus to become King of Hell. It is Magnus’ worst nightmare confirmed, and Harry’s acting when he says those words is amazing; you could feel the power and emotion in the words.

I was surprised that Magnus decided to send Asmodeus to Limbo, but it is the only place he can think of from which Asmodeus can no longer reach him. I was so excited to see Magnus overpower and restrain Asmodeus, I love seeing Magnus being powerful and badass; plus to see him take control and sever himself from his father was awesome. Not only does it take physical strength but an emotional one too, because even after everything Asmodeus has done he is still Magnus’ father.

I also hope that Lorenzo having witnessed this, albeit as a chameleon, that he will have gained some respect for Magnus and will let go of his petty jealousy. This is the only way I see any redemption for him, if he lets go of his grudge.

I really liked the sword fight scene between Clary and Izzy; it was intense, the choreography was amazing and I love the flaming swords. My only criticism is that maybe the sound effects were slightly too loud so they could come off a little cheesy.

Simon tries to talk Clary down, telling her that she is going to have to live with her actions for the rest of her life; he knows that if she were herself she wouldn’t want to be hurting any of them and if she did the guilt would be with her for the rest of her life. He knows what it feels like to hurt someone you love and he doesn’t want her to experience that. You can see her falter and lose a little of her conviction when she’s faced with Simon, you can see that she loves him and doesn’t want to hurt him.

Jace is the one to sever the connection between Clary and Jonathan, literally leaping in (from what seems like an unlikely height, unless he can just jump six feet off the floor). We find out that not only was the rune fostering Clary’s darker side but it also was holding back some of Jonathan’s power; he sprouts wings and promptly wing slaps Alec which I cannot help but find funny. It makes sense that the rune would affect both of them and it is nice to finally see how it was affecting Jonathan.

I love Izzy, she is so selfless and willing to literally throw herself into the line of fire for people she cares about. I am wondering though if they just left all those shards of Glorious just lying around the Seelie realm, which seems like a bad idea, or did they take a few minutes to collect them all up? If they did, what would they do with them? Destroy them? Store them? Inform the Clave? Make more serum? A lot of unknowns surrounding that exploding sword.

As much as I love Luke I really don’t like him at the moment, I know that he is being coerced but he is using Maia’s trust in him as a tool to get the serum. I wonder if we will see the fall out of this. I also wonder what plans the Praetor has for the serum, do they plan to replicate it in order to distribute to willing Downworlders? Or for more selfish purposes? All I know is that we saw Luke with runes in the promo and I am both scared and excited.

I like that we are finally getting to know more about the rune and how it affected Clary, as I suspected it was not like the Owl or a possession; I am kinda relieved that Clary was in control and knew what she was doing because we have seen what that absence of autonomy does to people. I think that the rune just fed those deep darker impulses in her, along with encouraging positive emotions towards Jonathan. I think that Clary may have genuinely been starting to feel sympathy for Jonathan and definitely felt a pull to him that was simply because they are siblings.

Jace comforts her because he knows how hard it is to fight the pull of family, he himself has done things that he regrets in the name of family; some of his actions pertaining to Valentine, his mistakes while Head of the Institute after finding out he is a Herondale. He understands wanting to be close to your blood relatives and doing things out of the norm for them.

I love Clary’s line ‘I should have fought harder for this family’; she feels guilty for her actions and that she let go of her new family too easily. She loves them all so much, they are her family and she deeply regrets not fighting harder to stay with him.

I really like that Izzy asks Simon for help when she had refused it from her brothers, it really shows how much trust they have that she allows herself to be vulnerable in front of him and that she feels comfortable asking him for help. You could see this really begin when she opened up to him about her addiction issues, then when he needed her support at the end of 3A; it has been beautiful to watch their friendship grow and strengthen, now to watch it flourish into something new.  The entire scene was very sweet and softly intimate; you could feel the closeness and care between them.

Maia finding Jordan’s body was heartbreaking, Alisha’s acting was phenomenal and the song they played really heightened it. I actually did tear up because the emotion of the scene was so well built with the acting, the way it was shot and the song; it was very emotionally provocative.

At Jordan’s funeral you can see Maia pushing down her grief, closing herself off as a coping mechanism; not only because of all her complicated feelings about Jordan but also because she has taken up the mantle of Alpha. She has to think about the pack and knows that they need her to be a strong leader right now. That said I really hope that she doesn’t bottle it up too much and she is able to confide in someone, maybe Simon or Bat.

I really liked the little interaction between Helen, Aline, Izzy and Alec; it’s nice to know that Helen and Aline have grown close and I love Alec’s little smile at ‘research’. It was really endearing to see them holding hands as they were running through the grounds of Alicante and I am hoping the we get to see more of Heline in 321 and 322.

Alec and Izzy take up arms in the courtyard area; I have to give a mention to the extra who leapt up the stairs behind them, he saw his moment and he took it, very impressive.

I love that moment between Alec and Izzy, they are prepared to fight with everything they have and they will fight until the end together. It also hurts a little to see Izzy, who is usually so confident in her abilities, to be scared and turning to Alec for reassurance. I was a little scared for them but then a started screaming/cheering when Magnus destroys the Edomai that were heading for them; and his line ‘traffic was hell’ is fantastic.

The scene between Clary, Jonathan and Jace was actually filmed in Paris at the same time as the scenes in 312. It was great that they were able to generate the appropriate emotions for this scene given how different the emotions were in 312.

We find out that the rift facilitates an unending loop for the demons, they are banished and then return over and over; which is an absolutely horrifying prospect. Clary tries to appeal to Jonathan, she knows that he genuinely loves her and I think that part of her does hold some genuine love for him now, because after everything he is still her brother.

You think for a moment that it might work but you can see something in Jonathan break, he feels that he will never be loved no matter what he does; he has tried to be better and it didn’t gain him anything. So he is taking out his pain on those who have wronged him.

Clary’s emotions were expected but I did not expect for Jace to become so hopeless and fatalist in those moments; it was a bit of a shock but I think a good one. Jace is seeing his home being destroyed in front of his eyes and is faced with the reality of everything and everyone he knows and loves being taken away. They have been in bad situations before but this is the first time that he doesn’t see a way out.

I think that the moment between them is very tender and sweet, Clary trying to inspire some hope and fight in Jace; it felt very much like a goodbye, I also really liked that they flipped Jace’s statement from an earlier episode ‘until I die, and after that’. That they were taking this moment alone to say goodbye to one another before they jump into a fight they cannot win; again this was a very emotionally provocative scene.

Okay, are you ready? I know I do this every time we are about to go into an emotional Malec scene, but holy fuck this scene is absolutely heart destroying. I’m crying just thinking about it, I’m going to have to write through the blur of my tears.

Alec is panicking about Magnus being near him, he doesn’t want Magnus to lose his magic again because they are in close proximity. Also, I think that he is nervous of being near Magnus because he still loves him so much and it hurts to be around him and unable to show that love.

Magnus is having none of Alec’s refusals and tells him he knows about the deal, he needs Alec to understand that he doesn’t have to stay away anymore and that Asmodeus cannot hurt them again. He can see how much Alec is struggling in that moment and needs to let him know that he understands why he made the deal, that it’s ok. Magnus cannot bear to be apart from Alec for a second longer and is desperate to let Alec know that he doesn’t need to keep his distance.

Upon hearing this Alec cannot hold himself back and interrupts Magnus by grabbing him by the lapels and kissing him, he is desperate to have that closeness again; to be able to touch and kiss him, to know that they love each other. It is even more incredible when you think about the slight parallel to 112 in that Alec grabbed Magnus by the lapels and just kissed him, in those two moments all he could think about was kissing this wonderful man.

Also, the long shot of them kissing with Alicante burning in the background was absolutely stunning.

When they learn of the swords destruction you can see Izzy coming to terms with their imminent destruction, Clary and Jace huddle close together not being able to be parted from each other in what could be their last moments, and Alec only has eyes for Magnus.

Magnus, however, has walked towards the balcony and is looking at the destruction that is happening and you just know that he is about to sacrifice himself to save everyone, again. As he tells them about a way to strengthen his power he moves slowly back towards Alec, he has already made his decision and wants to be close to Alec in these last moments.

When Izzy says Edom Alec immediately begs Magnus not to do it, he has only just gotten him back and he cannot bear the thought of losing him again, to be parted so thoroughly. Magnus looks at Izzy, Clary and Jace; he wants to do whatever it takes to keep them safe, he cannot stand by and watch the people he cares about die, especially when he could have done something to stop it.

Alec begins panicking again because he still wants to marry Magnus and he didn’t get the chance to propose, he wants Magnus to know just how much he loves him and cannot bare the thought of Magnus leaving without knowing that. I didn’t think it would but ‘Needless to say’ pops back up and I am already crying. Magnus presents Alec with two silver rings. They are beautiful, simple yet elegant which suits them both so well; plus it looks like they might be inscribed and I need to know what they say dammit!

Plus, I love that after Magnus banished Asmodeus he left to go buy engagement rings.

I am absolutely sobbing when Magnus asks Alec to marry him, and uses his full name; you can see that he is a little nervous because he has never been married before and he may never have proposed before, even if he has it has been a rejection. Despite knowing how much Alec loves him, and had planned to propose himself, you can still see that flicker of doubt.

Alec replies by taking one of the rings and saying ‘Only if you’ll marry me too’ and I am gone; I think that this was so important because it was Alec saying to Magnus ‘I want to marry you, please will you marry me’. He wanted Magnus to know that he has absolutely no doubts about this whatsoever and it was Alec’s way of being able to propose too.

The shot of them putting the rings on is so beautiful, and Alec’s little gasp really gets me because he is so overwhelmed that he is going to marry the man he loves. He never thought he would experience genuine romantic love, never mind marry someone he is in love with, and now all of those deeply buried hopes are coming true. The emotion of both of their faces is just so beautiful and as usual I cannot fault Matt and Harry at all; I only ever have awe, admiration and love for them and their acting.

The close shot of their faces, going in for a kiss, is so beautiful; with the gold in the background. This entire scene has been shot so amazingly. Unfortunately they don’t get to kiss because an explosion occurs; Magnus looks towards the destruction with trepidation but Alec only has eyes for Magnus, he doesn’t want to look away from his fiancé because he knows the moment he does he will have to face the reality that Magnus is leaving.

Without looking at Alec Magnus walks to the balcony, he knows that if he looks back or lingers then his resolve is going to start wavering but he does look back when Alec speaks. ‘It’s only Edom. You always come back’, Alec has faith that they always come back to each other and that nothing can keep them apart for long. He cannot bear to think any other way, the only thing keeping him from begging Magnus not to go is that it is the only way and the belief that they will be together again.

Magnus is not so sure, there is a slight shake of his head that shatters my heart; he truly believes that this could be the last time he sees the man that he loves. He takes a moment to look and Clary, Jace and Izzy; he loves them so much and he is doing this for them, he wants them to know that. He tries to lighten the mood, as always and especially when he is doing something selfless, by saying ‘Never thought I’d be a runaway groom’.  He takes one last look at Alec and then enters the portal.

As Magnus disappears you can see Alec begin to break, the smile falls from his face and he walks to the spot where Magnus last stood trying to be as close to him as he possibly can right now. Unable to contain his emotions Alec falls to his knees crying, he looks like he might be trying to say something but is too choked up and devastated that nothing comes out, instead he breaks slumping where he kneels. This is the most emotional we have ever seen Alec, you can see the utter loss and devastation in his expression; the weight of all his feelings from the break up, the proposal and Magnus leaving all come crashing down on him at once. He is breaking under the loss.

Izzy, Clary and Jace are crying too; they just witnessed this beautiful profession of love and now they are seeing two people they love being torn apart; to see Alec, who is the most emotionally reserved of them all, completely break down makes them move. They surround him, offering him physical comfort, letting him silently know that they are there for him and that he doesn’t have to go through this alone.

It is at this moment that Alec finds the strength to look up to the sky, his expression is absolutely heartbreaking; he is absolutely destroyed. We see the rift being healed by Magnus’ gorgeous blue magic and this makes me cry even harder because it not only symbolises Magnus saving them but there is just something so heartbreakingly beautiful about seeing Magnus’ magic call back all the Edomai and light up the once red sky in blue. I can’t put it into words but it is so beautiful.

The last shot is of the four of them witnessing this and a slow close up of Alec watching Magnus’ magic, it is so beautifully soul destroying. I have watched this scene four times and I have sobbed my heart out every single time.

This episode was amazing and would have been the best season finale of the show I think, plus it’s the first Malec cliff hanger; Season 1 was Jace and Valentine, 2A was the Soul Sword, 2B was Jace, 3A was Clary. I know that I would have been screaming at the writers for leaving it there but can you imagine how amazing it would have been too; to know that Season 4 was going to be Malec centric, that a huge dark Magnus storyline was on the horizon; to have those months of theories and excitement for what was sure to be the best season so far. It would have been incredible, and it wasn’t even the original episode ending which was even more of a cliff hanger; I am excited to see what it was (we will see it early on in 321).

I am not ready for 321 and 322; I actually refuse to say the word finale out loud because I cannot cope with that right now. And I haven’t watched any of the Farewell videos from TV Guide because I cannot deal with any of that until I have seen 321 and 322. Even then, I am still going to be fight to save this show because it is too important and amazing to give up.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Your Words On My Skin - Chapter 8 (Final Chapter)

Bonjour, mes chers! This is the final chapter of Your Words On My Skin! I'll be doing a final edit later tonight to make it easier to read all at once and fix any spelling errors I've spotted since first upload, but for now enjoy the last chapter!

AO3 FFN

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Summary: Danny Fenton was born with writing on his arms that proved he had a soulmate out there for him that was much, much older than his parents were comfortable with. The result was his skin being covered as much as possible and Danny warned that he shouldn’t look at the words or write any back. Danny has always been a little bit curious as to who his soulmate was, but he never thought on how curious his soulmate was about him.

<<First Chapter>><<Previous Chapter>>

Chapter Eight

::

Ever since this soulmate business had all started, Danny had always thought about what he would say or do when he first met Andrew face-to-face. His realistic daydreams tended to vary between trying to play it cool and awkwardly rambling away while Andrew laughed quietly and sweetly and said it was nice to meet him. Those he liked.

On his more hopeful days he thought about the two running into each other on an average day and knowing with just a glance who the other was. Those tended to not last long because while Danny believed in soulmates, he didn’t believe in the impossible. They were fun to think about, at least.

The more personal daydreams that he would never share with a living soul tended to end with Danny wrapped around Andrew and kissing him and, aha, yeah, never telling that to anyone so long as he lived or died. The point was that Danny had thought about what he would do when meeting Andrew a lot - a lot.

In none of those daydreams did he ever storm up to his soulmate, punch him on the shoulder as hard as possible, and then scream that he was a dick, but here they were! “I can’t believe you’re a fucking ghost!” Danny was gratified to see that Andrew was wincing and rubbing his shoulder and if that hadn’t hurt then he had at least pretended it had and yes. Good mate. “Of all the things we talked about you never once thought to mention that the whole age thing was because you were a ghost?!”

“You, mon cher, don’t have very much moral high ground upon which to stand. I’m not the one who covered every inch of my skin and ignored it for fifteen years-”

“Hey, that was because of my parents and you know that! They pretty much had me convinced I didn’t have a soulmate the way they talked about things! And don’t you turn this around on me- You’re a ghost.”

“It…” Andrew trailed off, clearing his throat and avoiding even looking at him. “It didn’t seem all that relevant to mention-”

“Oh my god.” Danny stared at his stupid soulmate who had to be the stupidest man to ever exist- Wait. “Wait, hang on- That’s why we couldn’t track down your address!” Ha- Aha! Danny knew they should have found something, but they hadn’t, and this was why. “We were only looking for a living Andrew Riter!”

“Living- You were stalking me?” Okay, no one would blame Danny if he screamed in frustration here, but he didn’t. He should get points for that, really.

“I was not stalking you. I was trying to- Wait- No, you don’t get to- Why didn’t you tell me?” Seeing Andrew - his Andrew - open his mouth, Danny stepped forward to throw another punch up at him, slightly surprised when his fist was easily caught.

“I believe whatever point you wish to make could be done without the use of physical altercations.” Ugh, his soulmate was such a nerd. Sam and Tucker were never going to let him live this down.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re my mate?” Because Andrew knew. He had known that Danny was right there in front of him and he hadn’t said anything. “You had to have known right away. My suit was ripped to shreds when I crashed here.”

The words had been visible to Andrew, but Danny hadn’t seen anything because of Andrew and his stupid kind of cool leather trench coat and- Jerking his fist back, Danny quickly caught Andrew’s wrist and stared at where stars and hearts were drawn onto the skin. “You’re my soulmate.”

“It seems so.” Andrew’s voice was as quiet as his and Danny was talking to his soulmate. He was talking to his soulmate. “Danny-”

“You’re dead.” The words slipped out of him more than anything else, but the delighted laughter he was all too happy to let out. “You’re dead. This is great!”

A snort of surprised laughter had him looking to Randy and oh- Yeah. Randy. Randy the brother. Not really a coincidence, then, was it? Wait. Why was he laughing? “I don’t think that was the best choice of words, petit mec.”

“What?” His words had been- Oh. Oh, jeez. “I mean- I didn’t mean it’s good that you died, just that it’s good that you’re here!” At least Andrew looked kind of amused? “Okay, so, uh, great was the wrong word to use there, but I mean- C’mon, Andy, this is so much better than you being sixty or something!”

“I am not that old!” Andrew sounded close to laughter even when he was offended and that- That’s why Danny had gotten along with him so quick and found him so soothing and why he had been almost jealous at the idea of ‘Ghostwriter’ ignoring him to talk to his soulmate. It was because he was his soulmate. “If you must know, I’m twenty-two.”

“Physically,” Randy ‘coughed,’ and, yeah, okay. Danny could grow to like Randy. He wasn’t all that bad for being an annoying big brother. Plus, it was fun to see that Andrew looked even more offended and oh, man. He was- He was laughing and talking with his soulmate! This was incredible! “Hey, better than fifteen and-”

“Yes, thank you, Randy.” Andrew sighed, looking back to Danny and tugging his hand back and oh, jeez, right, hand. Danny quickly let go and took a step back and…

“You knew when you let me out of that net. That’s why you gasped.” He had thought he just took the ghost by surprise with how fast he had moved, but that… That wasn’t it. “Andrew, why didn’t you tell me?” Because he had known. Danny was right there, and Andrew hadn’t- He hadn’t said anything.

“I was going to.” Andrew spoke quickly, as if to reassure him, but it just- It sounded like an excuse. Was he really going to tell him? Or did he see… Had he seen just how bad an idea they could be? “I didn’t tell you because…” Andrew trailed off as if searching for some hidden meaning and oh. Oh. He wasn’t just Danny. He was Danny Phantom. He was Danny Fenton.

“No- No, I get it.” Both Andrew and Randy looked to him, Danny giving a laugh that sounded as hollow as it felt. “I don’t make a very good soulmate, all things considered. I mean, you being a ghost is amazing for me, but I guess me being me isn’t so great for you.” Fenton. Ghost hunter. Phantom. Ghost hated. It’d- Maybe one day his parents would accept him being a half-ghost, but his soulmate being a ghost? Not to mention the other ghosts would use this against them both in a heartbeat. So… “I guess I’m kind of a disappointment, huh?”

“No- Danny, that’s not it. It’s not about who you are.” No. Some part of it was always going to be about who they were. He was half-ghost and the son of ghost hunters and his soulmate was a ghost. What a fucking joke. “I didn’t tell you because I was scared.”

“Doesn’t really matter now though, does it?” His soulmate was a ghost. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. “Something like this can’t work.” He had gone through every possibility and every solution he could come up with, but this? There- There wasn’t really a solution to death.

“Hey, you can’t just go saying that something won’t work without giving it a try.” Aw, jeez, now Randy was going to make him feel even worse. “This idiot has been researching and reading every book in this damn place about soulmates just to try and find a way to be with you.”

“Yeah, without ever telling me who he was!” It wasn’t just- It wasn’t just that. That wasn’t the only reason Danny was doing this, but Andrew had told him nothing. It- It hurt. “He kept everything from me!”

“You had your silence. Was I not allowed mine?” Flinching at the cold tone, Danny looked to where Andrew was staring at him with nothing but anger. He looked to where his soulmate was staring at him with anger. “There seem to have been plenty of secrets of your own that you’ve kept.”

“Guess we’re more suited to each other than we thought, huh?” Stupid. He had been so- He should have never written on his hand that day. Everything would have been better if he had just followed his parents’ rules. “Fine. You want your silence?”

Danny focused on his heartbeat and found that ball of cold tucked away right underneath. He grabbed it with everything in him and forced himself to fall into it and it was almost relief when the change snapped around him. Taking only a moment to make sure he had his powers under control, Danny looked back to Andrew and it wasn’t fair, but…

“You can have it back.” With that, Danny shot towards the front doors, triggering his change back to human to phase through the doors before he was once again Phantom and flying through the air as quick as he could.

Danny should have stopped this a long time ago, but he had been so hopeful and now look where that had gotten him and no- No. It was fine, now- It was great! Now this could end, things would go back to normal, and he and Andrew would be just fine.

Danny and Andrew had spent their entire lives without soulmates. It would be fine if they went back to that again, right? It was fine. It… Heh.

His Christmases really were the worst.

::

Silence. For the first time since this whole soulmate business had begun, there was nothing but silence from Vidya and Randy. Perhaps that was for the best, seeing as there was no way that Andrew would be able to find a way out of this mess. He had been so careful to try and not ruin his budding relationship with Danny, and instead he had ended up destroying any chance there could have been.

How had it gone like this? Things had been going so well between them! Danny had been safe and warm and happy and had laughed at his jokes and teased him and was so sweet and then… It would have been too easy to blame Randy for pushing the conversation, but Danny was clever. Andrew didn’t know his mate as well as he wanted, but he knew he was clever. Danny always would have found out eventually.

Andrew glanced down to his wrist and felt his heart near break at seeing the hearts and stars had been messily scrubbed off to make way for smeared ink. He… Danny wouldn’t really stop all communication with him, would he? Yes, alright, Andrew had been in the wrong this time around, but- But…

“Well?” Startling at the first word spoken since Danny left, Andrew looked over to his brother, half surprised when he didn’t speak again.

“As surprising as this might be, I’m afraid I don’t yet have ability to read minds.” The look he was given reminded him far too much of the old days when Andrew had become carried away and needed to be reigned back in. It was a look he was rather tired of seeing. “What.”

“Well aren’t you going to go after him?” Wh… What? Go after him? “I mean, we all know where that kid lives, yeah? He’s the Fenton kid, for God’s sake.” Yes, that rather seemed to be the problem in all of this. “You can find him in a heartbeat and then everything will be okay, and you can be together and have your sappy ending and happily ever-”

“You don’t get it, do you?” How could he? Randy didn’t have a soulmate- Randy wouldn’t ever have a soulmate. How could he understand this? It wasn’t as simple as a fairy tale. “Danny doesn’t want me.”

“Really? Because you two seemed to be doing just fine when you were cuddled up on that couch and feeding him cookies.” That- That was before Danny knew they were mates! And look how great it turned out when he discovered the truth!

“Yes, and then he discovered that I’m his mate and decided that I wasn’t what he wanted.” It had always been heading towards this, though, the second Andrew had discovered his mate was alive. But… He was half ghost. He understood. He would have understood. “Maybe he was right.”

“The hell he was. You always do this! You always have to put yourself down and- Andy, look at me.” Randy had him pinned by a hand on the back of his neck and was half glaring at him, Andrew wondering how fast he could get away. “You can’t get away and you’re a great person, Andy. You had better never repeat this or tell anyone I said it, but anyone would be lucky to have you as a mate.”

“You’re my brother. You have to say that when I get my heart broken.” Ah, that was it, wasn’t it? His heart felt like it had been shattered. Heartbroken didn’t begin to describe the pain.

“When have you ever known me to say shit I didn’t mean?” Well… “Besides when I’m trying to charm someone.”

“You saw the way he looked when he left,” Andrew whispered, voice near gone as he swallowed. Just remembering that look was horrible enough. “He wants nothing to do with me, Randy-”

“Bull fucking shit. You heard the kid. He was goddamn near stalking you to try and find you.” Yes, there was that, he supposed. It was kind of cute, but that was when Danny thought him to be human!

“Then explain why he left. He was angry because I lied to him, yes, but that’s not- That’s not something you leave over, is it?”

“That’s probably something you should ask him.” Randy pressed harder against his neck for a moment before letting go. “So, what are you going to do?”

“Sitting in the dark and pondering where I went wrong in life seems like a rather good start to things.” At the glare shot his way, Andrew gave a quiet sigh. “Randy… He doesn’t want to see me. It’s best if I wait until he writes and tells me that he wants something to do with me.”

“Kid was wrong about one thing.” Oh? “You’re the one who’s the disappointment.” Startling, Andrew looked up to where Randy was walking away calmly, not a trace of guilt in his steps.

Andrew waited until he was gone to cross his arms and mutter to himself. “That’s not going to work.” It wasn’t. He was far too old for something like guilt tripping to work on him anymore. This was a mess of their own design and it… It was for the best, this way. The two of them were both used to not having a soulmate. There was no need to worry.

Except… Andrew couldn’t stop remembering all those little secrets scribbled onto his skin late at night. He couldn’t help but to remember the stars scribbled across him and next to each idea that was loved and adored. It seemed each second that passed was another word on his skin that he remembered and fuck.

Leave it to Randy to knock some sense into him, he supposed, but he wasn’t- He couldn’t let it end this way. He would not let today be the last day he saw Danny’s smile or heard his laugh. He wouldn’t let it be. He wouldn’t let this story end in tragedy. Not this one. Not this one.

This story of theirs had seen enough sadness and he was going to make sure there wasn’t anymore.

“Randy! I’ll be back later!” Andrew could feel the smug grin his brother had on, but he supposed he could excuse it just this one. He had earned it with how much he had dealt with from Andrew the last few month. 

Right. Fenton. Danny Fenton. That meant the Fenton Portal would lead Andrew straight to him- God, to think that Danny had lived so close. They could have been spending time together all this time and- Focus. He was going to change things.

Andrew had never been much in the habit of making promises, but just… Just one last promise. He would make one last promise that he would fix this.

Silence wasn’t good enough anymore.

::

“That… Oh, Danny.” Jazz seemed to be utterly speechless, Danny not sure if that was a blessing or a curse as he struggled into one of his jackets and pulled the hood up. Andrew hadn’t tried to write back to him yet, but Danny didn’t want to wait around until he did. “So, your soulmate is…”

“Yeah.” Pulling the sleeves down to the tips of his fingers, Danny collapsed on his bed with a heavy sigh. If he ever saw Andrew’s words again then he would run back to him in a heartbeat. He knew himself that well. “Yeah, he is.”

“That- That doesn’t have to be a bad thing, right? I mean, let’s think this through logically-” Making sure to cut Jazz off before she could use her evil pyscho powers, Danny threw a pillow at her. It was very effective until it was thrown back at him. “I’m trying to help-”

“I don’t want help- I don’t need help just like I don’t need a soulmate.” Which he didn’t. Danny had gone years thinking he didn’t have a soulmate, so it was easy to pretend again that he didn’t have one. Lots of people didn’t have soulmates or didn’t like who they were destined for. He didn’t need a soulmate. Andrew would be fine. This was for the best for both of them. “It’s better this way.”

“Oh, Danny…” Jazz’s voice was soft and understanding and accepting and Danny hated it. It was better this way, but it still- It still… “You really are in love with him, aren’t you?”

“He’s a ghost, Jazz, and in case you didn’t notice, our parents are ghost hunters. I’m also still half human. As far as we know I’ll just- I’ll keep growing and aging and getting older while he’ll just be stuck in that age forever. I was stupid to think this could ever work.”

“No, no, Danny, you weren’t stupid for trying to make this work. Everyone wants a chance with their soulmates, even if it’s difficult. And for the record? You are not a disappointment. I can’t believe you actually think that!”

“I don’t.” Danny watched her get ready to ramp herself up into an argument to defend him only to realize what he had said. It was effort to not let out a laugh. “I don’t think I’m a disappointment.”

“Then why… You told me that’s one of the things you said to those two before you left.” Yeah. He had said that. “Danny. What did you do?”

“I didn’t end things like that because I was a disappointment. I did it to keep him safe.” At the pained look, Danny gave a bitter laugh and shifted on the bed, curling up more onto his side. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Hero complex.”

“A big one.” Jazz was hesitant and careful, but she finally rested a hand on his head, playing with his hair lightly. God, Danny really was bad off if Jazz was being so careful and sweet with him. “It could still work.”

“Yeah. That’s the terrifying part.” Because it had been so easy to see them working together. Andrew hadn’t wasted a moment to take Danny in and bandage him up. He had helped him calm down, kept him safe, taught him about the Ghost Zone, and had even give him those cookies. He had… They had acted like friends without even trying.

He hadn’t realized it then, but he and Andrew had interacted like they had always known each other, laughing and joking and trying to one up each other’s stories and it had been so good. Danny hadn’t even realized how happy he was until he had followed the two to ask ‘Ghostwriter’ something and then overheard them and…

Would it have been better for Danny to never hear that conversation? A part of him felt that it was better this way. Stop it all before they got attached and it hurt even worse when the truth came spilling out. But… God, it could have been amazing. They… They could have been amazing.

“It’s not too late to go back and talk things out with him, you know.” Yes, it was. Andrew would probably never want to speak to him again, anyways, judging by how cold and angry he was when Danny left. “Everyone says things they don’t mean when they’re upset, Danny.”

“He could get hurt.” Shaking his head as Jazz stopped petting his hair, Danny sat up with a frustrated groan. “You don’t- Neither of you get it.”

“Then explain it to me.” Jazz straightened her back and crossed her arms, looking ready to argue her point until she won. God, she probably was.

“He’s a ghost and Mom and Dad are ghost hunters. What do you think is gonna happen when they notice I’m so damn happy? It’ll only take one slip for them to realize I’ve met my soulmate. Don’t you think they’re gonna be pretty worried and confused when they’re some of the ones who know writing started appearing on my arms when I was born? They’re pretty bad at their job, but they’re not incompetent. What do you think they’ll do when they find out a ghost is their son’s soulmate?”

“Change their opinions and be supportive of their obviously happy son?” Yeah, right. “They’d go ghost crazy.”

“They’d go ghost crazy,” Danny nodded, nervously tugging his sleeves down again before rubbing at his eyes as hard as he could. “It’s not fair.” It had been perfect. Andrew being a ghost had been perfect and explained it all and it had been the best outcome for what they had started wit

“Life often isn’t,” Jazz said softly, Danny opening his eyes and blinking away dark spots as he stared at where Jazz was brushing her fingers over completely bare arms. “That just makes everything a challenge, though, don’t you think? And what are we Fentons good at?”

“Making fudge?” Hiding a grin at the ‘glare’ he was given, Danny sighed dramatically. “Fentons never back down from a challenge-”

“That’s right we don’t! Did our parents give up when they thought they had failed when building an experimental portal?”

“They probably should have, considering the results of said portal-”

“No, they didn’t!” Oh, jeez, she was in one of her ‘inspiring speech’ modes. This was going to take a while. “And did I give up when Harvard said I was too young to apply?”

“In their defense, you were a sophomore. What college wouldn’t be a little freaked out?”

“No! I did even better and made them jealous when I considered going to Yale! And you! Did you give up when you got ghost powers!”

“Oh my god, why are you so dramatic? You’re the worst big sister ever.” Danny was laughing through his words, but, really. It was hard not to when Jazz was making such dramatic, sweeping gestures and throwing her arms about.

“No! You did not!” She was definitely doing all of this to make Danny laugh. “You kept at it you go-getter, you!”

“Can I trade you in for a puppy or something? That’d be the best Christmas present. I’d even make sure to get a super smart puppy that gets into super smart puppy schools.”

“The point, little brother, is that no matter what life throws at you, I know you can handle it, and not just because you’re a Fenton.” Jazz stood up and adjusted her clothing before pulling Danny into a tight hug. “It’s because you’re you.”

Quiet and still for a few moments, Danny sighed as he hugged Jazz back just as tightly. At least life had given him pretty good friends and family. “Thanks, Jazz.”

“And don’t worry. Tomorrow we can go back to being hated enemies and rivals.” Jazz laughed with him and managed to tighten the hug even more for a moment before letting him go. “I’ll give you some space, but my door’s open if you need to talk- Well, metaphorically it is. You know how loud they get.”

With that, Jazz was smiling and leaving his room, quietly closing the door behind her. Danny stared at the door for a moment before collapsing backwards and staring up at his ceiling. This… It really had been for the best.

Even if Andrew was amazing and Danny wanted a chance with him so badly, they would be okay. It would be bad for the next few months, but the empty feeling he had would go away. He was sure of it. Besides, Andrew would be safe, now. That was the important, part.

It still didn’t stop Danny from wishing that he could have some movie moment where Andrew stormed into his room and swept him off his feet and convinced him to give them a chance. Ugh. He needed to stop reading the books Sam recommended him.

It was over. This- This whatever was over and done with and Danny would never have to worry about it again. So why was he still hoping? He shouldn’t be wishing more than anything for Andrew to follow him. That was the opposite of what he wanted, but…

It wasn’t wrong, was it? For him to wish for things to be different between them. For him to wish that they had a different start - any start except this one. God, it could have been- It could have been great.

Meeting in a coffee shop like a thousand stories always talked about and exchanging jokes and witty one lines and noticing that the handwriting on the cup looked the same as the writing on the skin.

Bumping into each other in a library and reaching for the same book and starting an argument over who deserved it more only for one of them to push their sleeves up to try and prove a point and see words that were the same.

A transfer student in  high school that didn’t know anyone and was closed off and cold, but opened up with just the right words and was always writing and a quick peek over to see that writing was familiar as could be.

Meeting while just out in public. Saving him from a ghost fight. Being saved while chased after by a hunter. Meeting while running away from something worse. Meeting while being run into in hopes of escape. Chasing each other because of a half-remembered memory from childhood. Anything. Just anything but this.

Jazz had been right. Life really wasn’t fair to them.

::

It took a bit of focus, but Andrew managed to suppress his ghostly signature before he went invisible and flew through the open portal. He didn’t go to the human world as often as Randy, so Andrew wasn’t quite prepared for the feeling of static rolling across skin immediately followed by the sensation and pressure of water pressing and moving around him for a few seconds, but at least he stayed quiet through it.

Really, those ghost portals were far too strange, and that was coming from a ghost who had lived in the Zone for over twenty years- Right. Focus. Danny. He was here for Danny and… This must have been the laboratory basement Danny had once mentioned. He had said that his parents were scientists, but Andrew never would have connected that to ghost hunters. Although, he supposed a fair bit of science had gone into building the Fenton Portal.

“Rather quiet,” Andrew mused to himself, flying up the stairs and poking his head into what was the kitchen. It seemed to be quiet and, judging by the time, no doubt everyone was in their rooms. It had been close to afternoon when Danny showed up and, well, a few hours may have passed while in the library.

Setting his feet on the floor, Andrew kept himself invisible as he walked through the house with a small smile. This was where his mate lived, then. This was the house of the son of ghost hunters who became half-ghost and immediately used his powers to save the town and do good.

What a beautiful story his mate was, and yet… What heartbreak he had been through. Looking to the stairs and steeling himself, Andrew carefully and quietly flew up them, and, right. There was no longer any room in this story for that heartbreak.

As he flew up the stairs, Andrew caught glimpses of the other rooms of the house, mentally recalling all the stories Danny had told him over the last few months. He had- He had been so blind. Danny had been sharing his life with him since the moment he wrote that shaking and scared ‘hi’ and now he was as alone and scared as Andrew had first been.

It was time to flip the script. It wouldn’t be perfect - it would never be perfect, but they could make it into something good. Stopping in front of a simple wooden door with white paint peeling off and aged NASA posters just barely hanging on, Andrew raised his fist and gave a firm, but gentle knock as he became visible again.

“No more sibling bonding talk, Jazz! I know you’re using me for some college entry thesis of acceptance of yours!” Oh, goodness, there was so much wrong with that sentence and Andrew didn’t know where to being- Well, no. He did know where to begin.

“It’s not Jazz.” It didn’t even feel like a full second before the door was thrown up, Danny staring up at him with wide blue eyes that looked too watery to be coincidence and oh, his sweet mate.

“Andrew?” Danny was near breathless and the emotions in his eyes were too many for even Andrew to put words to. He saw hope, though. That was all he needed to see. “You’re not- You weren’t supposed to follow me-”

“I didn’t follow you. I merely followed the path you took after you had left. Completely different thing.” Andrew grinned when Danny looked to be fighting off tears. “You couldn’t have believed that I would give up that easily.”

“Andy, you can’t- We can’t- My parents are ghost hunters. I’m Danny Phantom. Every ghost and human in both worlds would be out for you, either because you’re a ghost or because you’re mine!”

“I rather like the thought of being yours.” Oh, really. Danny looked far too sweet in that overly large jacket of his with the overly bright blush. “Tell me that you don’t want me as your soulmate.”

“I-” Danny swallowed, words cutting off with a dry click of his throat as he looked to the floor. “I can’t.” He looked like he was more angry than upset, which, really, that was far too endearing. “I keep trying to be upset that you’re my soulmate, but I can’t- I can’t.”

“Oh, Danny.” Andrew gently took Danny’s hand and pushed the sleeve up enough to see his own scribbled hearts peek back out at him. “Danny, you… I had given up hope on having a soulmate and then those two letters appeared and…”

“And you realized your soulmate had been hiding from you,” Danny sighed, looking as if he was resigned to carry his guilt along with the world that weighed on his shoulders. Such a silly mate.

“And then I realized how much I wanted you. I realized how glad I was that it was your words on my skin.” Andrew let Danny’s hand slip out of his, the teen still looking lost and uncertain and alright. It looked like they would do this a different way, then.

Sticking out his hand, Andrew gave what he knew was a silly grin. “Hello. My name is Andrew Riter.” Ah, good. Danny was already looking at him like he was crazy. “I’m physically and mentally twenty-two, I obsess over books and writing and reading them far more than I’m comfortable with sometimes, I love my brother’s baking more than anything and will die all over again before admitting it, I’m a storyteller before anything else, and I’ve always been a bit of an idiot.”

Danny was staring at him with wide eyes that were already spilling over with tears, Andrew not faltering for a moment because he knew- He knew that this was the right choice. Danny would always be the right choice. “I’m bad at caring about people and I’m even worse at showing it. There are also times where I get scared of losing all the good that could be possible in my life, but I’m working on it and getting better.

“I’m a ghost. I died when I was twenty-two and I’m still here. I think I’m here for a lot of reasons, but part of it was just that I was waiting for you.” Andrew smiled wider. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Danny’s bubbling laughter were more like hiccups, the teen moving and clutching onto Andrew’s hand tightly enough to leave marks as he took a shaking breath. “I’m Danny. Danny Fenton. I’m a sophomore in high school and I’ll be sixteen in a few months in April. I became half-ghost because of a pretty stupid accident and I followed the pattern of a comic book superhero and started protecting the town.

“I hate pineapples and toast more than anything, I have a lot of enemies that probably want to see me actually dead, I’m scared for what feels like every single second of my life, and I have a problem with trusting others with the truth when I’m trying to protect them. I’m a pretty bad boyfriend because I’ll never remember the important stuff, but I’m kind of good at remembering little things and also at holding onto things and not letting them go and-”

Danny took a deep breath after having spoken near everything at once, Andrew doing his best not to laugh as Danny squeezed his hand again with a bright, beaming smile. “And I think we’re going to be great friends.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Andrew squeezed back, knowing that there was going to be a lot of work before things would be alright between them. This was still a start, though. This was all they needed. It was going to be difficult, but… “As I said. It’s nice to meet you, Danny.”

The warm, bubbling laughter had him feeling like it would all work out. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Andrew.”

[jordan202]

My Boys: Beyond the Horizon - Chapter 6

Thank you @jia911 for your help!

I will add the link to previous posts tomorrow because now I am on my phone.

My Boys: Beyond the Horizon – Chapter Six

Owen finished the knot on his tie and grabbed his things, ready to go downstairs to have a quick breakfast. It was early in the morning and he couldn’t be late to an important meeting with a supply company, even though it was Saturday. 

He left his bedroom and strode down the hall, supposing all kids were enjoying the opportunity to sleep in a little later during the summer. But the door to Megan’s room was opened and as he peaked inside, he noticed his daughter standing in front of the mirror, apparently too focused to notice his presence.

“Are you looking for any flaws?” Owen asked with a smile, startling the teenager. “Because you won’t find any.”

“Dad!” Megan censored the way he had sneaked inside and scared her, but quickly smiled widely when she noticed his presence behind her through the mirror. “You’re up early.”

“It is me who should be saying that,” he pointed out. 

“I promised Tommy I’d join him for tennis this morning at the club,” Megan clarified. “It’s his last weekend before his intern rotations start and he wants to make the most of it.”

“You are a good sister,” Owen affirmed with conviction. It was a little past seven in the morning and he knew how the kids cherished not waking up with the alarm during their vacation. Looking at the teenage girl through the mirror, he added, “now that your brothers are back I feel like I never see you anymore.”

“Aww, are you jealous?” Megan turned around on her stool with a teasing smile on her lips. “There is enough Megan for everyone.”

Owen looked at his daughter up and down. Unlike his sons, who had all grown up to his height or up, Megan had barely made it to her mother’s already small size. He raised his eyebrows in doubt and saw how she chuckled in response, giving in to his provocation.

“Alright, fine, maybe not that much, but I can still manage,” she said. 

“I know how busy you’ve been, but maybe,” Owen suggested with a playful voice, “maybe you can find time in your extremely busy schedule to have dinner with your father every once in a while?” he looked deeply into her eyes.

“I promise,” Megan said, touched by the importance he gave to her company and spending time together.

“Okay, kiddo,” Owen leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You have a good day. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

.

Amelia was busy checking her schedule for the following week on the phone at the same time she served hot fresh coffee on an indecently big mug. 

“Are you planning on leaving some for me?” Owen asked with a friendly smile as he made his way to the kitchen, not surprised to find her awake that early on a Saturday.

His wife rewarded him with a mischievous grin and a kiss before he took a seat on the stool near the kitchen isle with his own coffee mug. Owen took his time briefly checking the news on the morning newspaper and once he was nearly done with the sports section, proud to see Lucas’ picture stamped on it, he heard his wife’s voice.

“Did you know that Emily’s mom was at the hospital?”

“Huh?” Owen looked up, surprised with the random question. “Emily as in Lucas’ Emily?”

“Yes,” his wife confirmed. “I didn’t know either…” Amelia sighed. “She passed away a few days ago. From what I gathered, Tom ran into her and found out. I’ve been thinking about maybe calling, checking up on her?” the neurosurgeon suggested, unsure of what to do. “You know, just to let her know we’re here if she needs anything.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Owen suggested with a smile, still trying to process the news. “I’d hate to think she is dealing with this alone, if that is the case.”

He saw as his wife focused back on the dirty mug inside the sink and figured Amelia didn’t look so stressed about the issue anymore once she had talked to him about it and made a decision. So Owen decided to share what was on his mind too.

“So… next weekend I have the Medtronic thing that I need to attend,” he started.

“Oh, is it next weekend already?” Amelia turned over from the sink to face him. “Are you going to Minneapolis?”

The neurosurgeon knew that the medical technology company was one of the largest providers of surgical equipment to their hospital, so it was often that as chief of surgery, her husband had some kind of meeting or conference with them. Their headquarters was situated in Minneapolis and at least once or twice a year Owen traveled there for a couple of days.

“Actually, no,” he said, finishing his coffee under her curious gaze. “They are hosting this event here in Seattle this year and it’s not a formal meeting, it’s more like a gala to promote this new line they are launching,” Owen explained. 

“Oh, so you don’t have to fly there,” Amelia realized with a genuine smile, finishing storing the coffee pot back inside the cabinet and collecting the things she’d used to make breakfast. “That’s good.”

“It is,” Owen smiled mysteriously.

Something in his enigmatic and yet obviously satisfied expression made Amelia stop what she was doing.

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Can you guess in which hotel this event is taking place?”

Amelia was distracted for a moment, wondering why he was talking about the business event as if it meant anything. But then she realized his question had been about the location and instantly had an epiphany, which became evident in her wide smile. 

Many years before, a few months after she’d moved to Seattle, the  neurosurgeon had slowly come to fall madly in love with Owen. At the beginning of everything, they had struggled for a while to even manage to go out on a proper date. It wasn’t until Amelia had discharged Nicole Herman, one of the biggest cases of her career, that she and Owen had really been given the opportunity to focus on each other.

And the result had been extremely gratifying. Back then, the grandfather of a young child Amelia had operated on had showed his gratitude by taking Owen to meet several businessmen who weeks later had injected a lot of money in the hospital. Back then, as chief of surgery, Owen had done a brilliant job turning a low potential situation into one that had brought amazing gain to the hospital. Not only that, but he had also taken Amelia as his company to the event, making it their first official date. At the time, Owen had secretly booked a room for them, but their plans to spend their first night there hadn’t exactly worked out the way both had wanted to. 

The following evening, after a misunderstanding was resolved, Owen had taken Amelia to his trailer and there they’d finally been together for first time. Amelia didn’t regret anything that had happened between them at any time, because it had taken their relationship to the exact place it was at today, and she loved everything about it.

“Oh my God, really?” she went around the kitchen isle and stood closer to him. “Don’t tell me they are having an auction again! Are they?”

Owen laughed heartily, assaulted by the same memories as she. At the time of their first date, the hotel was hosting a benefit auction and he had bought Amelia the ugliest painting they had ever seen. 

“I wish we still had that painting,” he commented, looking straight into her eyes as her laughter slowly subsided. 

Weeks later, after their relationship had gone through a darker time and Amelia’s brother had died, Owen had left on a tour with the Army. Finding herself in perhaps one of the worst states of mind she’d ever been in, after an entire day of agony for hearing uncertain news about Owen being caught in a gunfire situation and not being able to know if he was alive or dead, Amelia had gone home and smashed the painting against the wall in a fit of rage. 

“We do,” Amelia confessed with a playful smile.

“No way,” Owen gave her a doubtful look. “Really?” he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer, seeing on her face that she was telling the truth.

“I still have it stored upstairs somewhere,” Amelia leaned in on his embrace and looked into his eyes. Owen was sitting on a kitchen stool and that leveled their heights. She splayed her hands on his shoulders, fixing an imperceptible wrinkle on his shirt. “I tried to glue it all back together. Of course it didn’t work out. It looks even uglier now.”

“Like that time in Connecticut when Robbie and Danny tried to glue back together a moth?” Owen relived the memory, laughing along his wife. “God, that was memorable… I still remember the look of horror on your face when the thing came flying in your direction.”

“It wasn’t at all that funny,” Amelia pretended to be censoring him, failing to convince her husband. “You keep laughing at my expense and I won’t accompany you to your fancy gala,” she smirked proudly. “Yeah, that’s right, I know you’re going to ask me to.”

“I was not,” Owen lied, his smile making it obvious.

“Oh really?” Amelia played along, laughing as he bent over and kissed the column of her neck, burying his face on the crook of her shoulder. “I guess I can continue with my plans of scheduling a trip to Pittsburgh for a lecture at the-”

Amelia’s words were interrupted when Owen sneakily kissed away the rest of the sentence. Unable to hold her amusement, she watched as he stared into her eyes with a loving expression.

“No Pittsburgh for you because next weekend you’re mine,” he decided, tightening the grip around her waist. 

“Only next weekend?” Amelia raised an eyebrow in defiance, testing him.

“Don’t test me,” Owen spoke possessively. He gently pulled a lock of brown hair away from her ear before he whispered, causing a shiver to run through Amelia’s spine at his seductive tone, “and I’ll make damn sure no one interrupts us there this time.”

“So you’re determined to make the best of that hotel bed?” Amelia cracked a joke, causing her husband to close his eyes to control his chuckle.

“I absolutely am,” Owen notified her with a wink, giving his wife one last peck on the lips before he finally left for work. “I’ll even make sure to book us the exact same room.” . Megan tried to control her laughter as she was challenged on a silly cell phone game. Each time she lost a round, Aaron would lean over and attack her with kisses.

“This party is pretty boring.”

Megan straightened herself on the seat as her smile died down. The girl lifted her eyes to gaze at the author of such negative comment.

“Marianne, what’s wrong?” she asked with genuine interest. “You have been expecting this date for weeks now,” Megan pointed out. They were at Claire’s boyfriend’s birthday party and everyone from their school seemed to be there too. 

Steve was an only child to very wealthy parents and his house was every teenage boy’s dream, with a large outdoors swimming pool, a fancy backyard area and a huge game room right across the yard inside the pool house.

“I am fine,” Marianne lied. 

“You clearly are not,” Megan sighed, preoccupied. The obvious conclusion came to her mind. “What did that son of a bitch do?”

“Nothing,” Marianne was quick to answer. She looked into Megan’s eyes and repeated reassuringly, “JD did nothing, that’s the problem.”

Megan knew Aaron was present, making it impossible for her to address Marianne’s intimate life out loud, so she settled for asking the question with her eyes. Marianne then gently nodded affirmatively, letting Megan know that she had indeed had sex with the guy like she’d planned.

“So he just didn’t say anything after?” Megan was confused. She had no idea what to expect in a situation like that, but the guy doing nothing certainly seemed like the wrong option. “Hasn’t he called you or…?” she shook her head, hoping to encourage her friend to talk. “Marianne?”

Megan realized things were probably much worse than what she’d initially imagined when her friend broke down crying. Aaron looked at her with an expression of absolute alarm, as if he wanted to help but had no idea what to do.

“Aaron, do you think you can get Marianne some Pepsi or something like that?”  

It was obvious the look of relief on his face when the boy was given something concrete to do. Once alone with her friend, Megan supposed the girl would feel more comfortable to talk.

“What happened?”

Marianne turned her head up, struggling to contain her tears.

“I saw him talking to these other girls…” she confessed, hesitating to look across the pool. Megan instinctively did it and she noticed JD was surrounded by a group of students that included boys who played in the team and girls who were in their year and younger. One of them was standing on the tip of her toes to whisper something in his ear and the guy seemed pleased enough. “I passed by him earlier and all he did was to say hi. He didn’t even ask me how I am feeling…”

Megan took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it, thinking of what she should do. Deep down, she wanted to go to the guy and tell him off, but at the same time, she knew it would probably expose Marianne to ridicule. And she didn’t want to see her friend hurting any more than she already was.

After noticing one of her friends was in distress, Claire left the pool and went to join the girls, having the same reaction as Megan once she found out that just days later after losing her virginity to JD Callaghan, the guy was now treating Marianne like they were mere acquaintances. 

After hearing words of encouragement for a few minutes, Marianne finally calmed down enough. Aaron came back with the soda as requested and subsequently left. Megan nodded her head in gratitude for his thoughtfulness to leave the girls alone for the time being.

“You know what…” Marianne sniffed, looking from one friend to another. “I am tired of always being the victim.”

Megan and Claire looked at each other, positively surprised by the girl’s unexpected empowered comment.

“I am sick of people treating me like this and walking all over my feelings,” she said, rising to her feet with determination. “I am going to let him have it.”

Once again, Megan and Claire exchanged looks of surprise. But this time around, Megan was growing preoccupied.

“What, you’re doing it now?” Megan read Marianne’s thoughts, unable to believe it.

“Hell, yeah,” Marianne replied, devoted to using that bravery that she knew could go away at any second.

“He is with his friends now,” Claire tried to reason why the girl’s decision shouldn’t be made on an impulse. “Everybody is there! You don’t need an audience for that, Marianne, wait!”

Megan and Claire got up too, promptly following the girl.

“Marianne… what are you doing, get back here!”

By the time Megan said the words, the girl was furiously walking in the opposite direction. Judging by Claire’s wide eyes, she supposed her best friend was just as alarmed about Marianne’s impulsive, potentially stupid decision. But the minute the two of them caught up with the girl, she was already standing in the middle of the students group, defiantly facing the guy who’d hurt her feelings.

Megan didn’t realize she held her breath at the same time a thick silence involved them. The sounds of conversations all around ceased immediately as all eyes were now focused on Marianne and her strange attitude. Megan noticed her friend’s lips trembled as she seemed to hesitate. She took a step forward to stand right behind Marianne and hopefully stop her from having that confrontation in such an exposed place, but it was already too late.

“JD! I just wanted to say,” Marianne started and Megan wished her friend’s voice didn’t sound so unsure, “that it’s absolutely awful the way you are behaving, pretending nothing has happened.”

Around them, a large of group of teenagers looked from one to the other, expecting some sort of response.

“What?”

Megan frowned, just as confused as her friend seemed to be. Because she was standing just behind Marianne, she had a clear vision of JD’s face and she could tell he really seemed to have no idea what she was talking about. 

“I am talking about the way you’re pretending nothing has happened and how you’re avoiding talking to me.”

Megan didn’t notice exactly when, but Aaron materialized near her, and his voice was clear as he intervened.

“Marianne, your cell phone is ringing, I think it’s your dad,” he lied. 

Megan looked at him and realized he had made up a lie to get her friend from the uncomfortable spotlight and for that she was extremely grateful.

“I don’t think we fully understand each other here,” JD’s voice resonated, ignoring Aaron’s words and interrupting Megan’s thoughts. It was the first time she was listening to him speak and the calm, controlled way with which he pronounced each word with his deep voice was intimidating enough. “I am not pretending anything. Nothing has really happened.”

“What?” It was Marianne’s turn to gasp and Megan noticed how she faltered, looking like she was about to cry.

Everyone had at some point heard Marianne talking about the guy, be it at the school football practices or when the teenagers hung out in smaller groups. So it became instantly obvious that while the girl had obviously gotten romantically attached, JD didn’t reciprocate her feelings. And worse than that, he was acting like her emotions didn’t mean anything and were in fact an inconvenience. Marianne stood there for a second longer, looking the guy in the eyes, secretly hoping for a recertification. But JD settled for staying completely in silent, sustaining the girl’s gaze with no emotion in his mysterious eyes.

Megan didn’t clearly see when her friend broke down in tears and ran away as fast as she could, being promptly followed by Claire. She also didn’t notice how the people around them started to whisper, immediately fueling the new hot gossip that was about to be spread to the entire school. All Megan could focus on was the despicable person in front of her, who looked like the entire scene had done nothing but bore him.

“Wow,” her voice resonated loudly, involuntarily recapturing people’s attention. “What a great person you are,” Megan added with sarcasm, not making an effort to contain her anger. “I can’t begin to imagine how pathetically insecure you must be to treat people like that.”

Megan’s insult had the desire effect because everyone around them seemed perplexed, although not exactly surprised that Megan had stood up for her friend. And yet people were absolutely baffled by the way she was fearlessly calling out the new guy with the worst reputation without even flinching and showing any signs of retreat.

But unlike their classmates, who looked anxious and bewildered, JD Callaghan seemed slightly amused. Did he look like he was… approving of her? The discreet smirk on his lips served only to infuriate Megan even more. 

“You’re the worst kind of person there is,” she decided, looking at him with absolutely disgust. “I bet deep down you know that too, but you don’t want to admit it, so you treat people like crap to make you feel better about yourself, don’t you? Since you know you’re not enough, I mean,” Megan sustained his gaze, unable to hold the words and insults that poured out of her mouth. “So what was it?” she scoffed, oddly taking pleasure in insulting him. “Didn’t your mom go to your ballet recitals?” Megan tilted her head to the side, failing to see the shock on people’s face at the scene she was making. “Or was it your dad who never wiped your butt and left you with a daddy complex?” 

The girl stopped, unaware of how worked up she really was. Her cheeks were flushed with rage and her blue eyes were sparkling like bright jewels as she couldn’t control the words coming out of her mouth. 

Instead of getting angry and insulting her back like Megan expected he would, JD settled for a light chuckle as he continued to stare into her eyes. His reaction irritated the girl even more.

“Either way, you have to seriously get over yourself and start behaving like a human being,” Megan finalized, seeing she wasn’t getting anything from him and probably wouldn’t. “Be a man. And stop walking around with that I don’t give a damn about anything look on your face because all it does is make you look like a freaking cliché. And you’re already pathetic enough.”  

Megan turned around to leave. She was already a few steps away from him when JD finally decided to talk.

“Does the look on my face really bother you?” 

The girl turned around and when she noticed the smug smile on his lips, she decided it wasn’t worth it. People around them were whispering even more than before. A few had even gotten their phones to text friends, but Megan was oblivious to all of that. The most pressing thought on her head was Marianne, so Megan resumed her way, determined to check on her friend and forget all about that confrontation with the most obnoxious guy she’d ever met. .

Thomas flipped the phone in his hands, debating whether or not he should make the phone call he’d been dying to make. Hell, he didn’t even know if Kate would pick it up.

Reaching out for his wallet, Thomas opened it and easily found the picture he had been looking for. A few months before, Kate had given him a small photo strip with a collage of several of their pictures. The first one showed the two of them around age five or six, on their last day of kindergarten. Thomas was smiling widely to the camera with one arm wrapped around Kate’s shoulder as she stared lovingly at him. On the second image, they were about fourteen and wearing matching T-shirts as they finished eighth grade, both scowling and making funny poses. The third picture showed the two of them with large graduation caps on their last day of high school, their faces glued together as they celebrated the excitement that was about to come when they left together for college. And then on the fourth one, a picture taken recently at a Harvard pub, Kate was sitting on her side on Thomas’s legs, both her arms tightly wrapped around his neck clinging to him with her eyes closed and a large smile that was Thomas’s favorite sight. This time around, Kate was the one facing the camera as Thomas looked at her like she was the only thing present in the room, even though there were lots of other people around them.

The young doctor kept examining each scene, reminiscing about them. His heart felt constricted and it had been for weeks. At times, it got so bad that he felt like a part of himself was missing. 

Kate was the love of his life. Throughout their entire lives they had stumbled upon people who had doubted their connection or even suggested that what they had between them was nothing but a silly puppy love and that they’d grow out of it soon. Others praised and encouraged their relationship, confessing them too wish they had a love story like the young couple. But none of that mattered to Thomas at the moment because without Kate, there simply was no story to tell.

She had been there in absolutely every moment he could remember. And he’d never gotten tired of it. Not once. Kate was his best friend, his cherished half, his favorite person in the entire world. He loved the wrinkle on her nose when she laughed, the light freckles on her face that were only evident under the sun, the way she always whistled when she was nervous about something and how he could tell which mood she was in just by the tone with which she pronounced his name.

Thomas could still remember the last time he’d seen her right before she’d left for London. At the time, he had tried to convince her to stay, but Kate was determined to be away from everything. Thomas knew how hard their last year of med school had been, particularly on her. And he wished for nothing but for Kate to be happy.

Unfortunately, Thomas couldn’t be happy with her. Not if that meant being away from his dream. But also, after weeks without her, he was starting to realize he didn’t think he could be happy without her either.

The following morning, his first shift as a surgical intern would begin and for the first time since Thomas could remember, Kate wouldn’t be there to share a first with him. He had no idea where she was or what she was up to and not knowing it was killing him. His old bedroom in his parents’ house was filled with so many memories that reminded him of her that at that moment, Thomas made a decision.

A few days before, his brother had signed the lease agreement on a penthouse apartment just a few blocks from the training field where he would spend most of his time. Lucas had insisted that Thomas went to live with him because the place was too big for one person. And Thomas knew his brother hated being alone. For the young doctor, it was a great deal because the place was also very close to the hospital and he’d save a lot of time in traffic. On top of that, Thomas also knew that he couldn’t live with his parents for much longer. Almost as if intuitionally summoned by his thoughts, Amelia knocked twice on his bedroom door before walking in.

“There you are,” she cheered with a smile. “You look so calm, I think I am more excited about tomorrow than you are!”

“Mom!” Thomas frowned, “are you trying to make me nervous?”

“I am saying you don’t look nervous,” the neurosurgeon pointed out with a teasing smile. Thomas had already put the photograph back in his wallet he’d been staring at, so it was only fair that his mother really had no idea why he looked so disconnected from the world. 

“I am thinking about moving in with Luke,” Thomas confessed with a sympathetic nod. “I know what you are going to say,” he anticipated her reaction, knowing he was right by the obvious way his mother shut her mouth right after immediately opening it to reply to his news. “I know you’d love having me here but mom,” Thomas reasoned, raising his eyebrows with a mirthful look on his face. “Just think about it. I can’t really live with my boss.”

“What?” Amelia shook her head, completely dismissing that as a reasonable argument. “Of course you can.”

“And my boss’s boss,” Thomas added. 

“That is not a good enough reason for you to move out,” Amelia insisted, holding back a smile as she tried to convince him. “I do it. I live with my boss.”

Thomas thought about it for a moment and had to acknowledge she was right.

“But well… To be fair, I do sleep with him too, so your dad being my boss is the least of my problems,” she added, laughing at the way Thomas scowled when she mentioned sleeping with his father.

“I am going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Thomas replied with a smile, but still averse to the reference his mother had made. “So, what do you think about what I said?”

“I think…” Amelia took a deep breath and tried to be fair, “I think it’s an excellent idea, baby,” she did her best to be supportive. It made sense, considering how close Lucas apartment was to the hospital. 

Their oldest son had taken Owen and Amelia to the penthouse apartment a few days before to show them the place and ask for their opinion about the rental agreement. Owen had then taken the document for one of the hospital lawyers’ to have a look on and after everything was settled, they had helped Lucas choose and buy new furniture for his new place.

“I think it’s going to do Luke some good to have you around as well,” Amelia wisely pointed out. “You keep an eye on him and make sure he takes care of himself and he keeps an eye on you to make sure you’re not overworking yourself.”

“Sounds like a good deal,” Thomas smiled back at his mother, glad he could count on her support.

Amelia then gave him a kiss on the head and wished him good luck on his first day the following morning. As she went downstairs, Thomas was once again left alone with his own thoughts, trying to make sense of his confused feelings. With his mind made up, Thomas picked up the cell phone again, ready to text his brother an affirmative answer. He tried to ignore how anxious and scared he felt about what the following day would mean for his life and his career. But most of all, he tried to ignore the fact that not having Kate there was the main source for all of those unwelcome feelings.

.

Emily felt disoriented and as it had been becoming quite often lately, unsure of what to do. 

“What’s up with you? You’ve been so quiet since we got here.”

The young journalist looked up to find the eyes of her fiancé. Peter had flown in to attend her mother’s funeral that morning and for that she was extremely grateful. Emily knew he was on a deadline, so unfortunately for her, Peter would have to fly back to New York in just a few hours. At the moment, he was sitting with her in the kitchen of her parents’ old home, the place Emily would announce in the market soon. 

“I don’t know, I just got the strangest news today,” Emily shared. Taking her time to process what was happening, the young journalist elaborated, “I spent the last three days dealing with organizing my mom’s funeral and trying to locate my sister that I barely had any time to do anything else,” she stated, seeing on Peter’s face that he understood what she was saying. “But then, when we left the cemetery and I asked you to drive us back to the hospital, I did it because I wanted to have a first look on the billing for my mother’s case… You know, just to start thinking of a plan on how I’d come up with the money” Emily looked astonished, but she leveled her eyes with Peter as she shared. He could nearly see her brilliant mathematical mind adding up figures and calculating interest rates to see what was the best solution available to get her out of that financial mess. “And they told me that there is no debt.”

“Huh?” Peter frowned, just as confused. For the past week, Emily had filled him in on the details of what her sister had done and how much money they now owed the hospital for the many procedures and days in the ICU her mother’s treatment had required. “I thought you said the insurance company refused to pay for anything.”

“They did refuse it,” Emily confirmed it. “At first, when I got the news, I was expecting something like that too, but they said the cost for my mother’s treatment had reached over three hundred thousand dollars… and yet it was already covered,” she blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of what could have possibly happened.

“Maybe the insurance company people changed their minds?” Peter asked with furrow, knowing that possibility was extremely unlikely.

“They said the money came from an anonymous donor,” Emily shared, not quite sure why the term bothered her so much. “I tried to think about it, but I really can’t think of anyone who’d care so much about my mother to clean up her name like that.”

Peter stayed in silence, just as curious as she was. For the next half hour, he drank coffee with Emily as she tried to think of who could have done that, or how it could have happened. The hospital had refused to disclose the name of the generous anonym who’d helped, claiming it was against their policy. But as the journalist she was, Emily was too intrigued to let it go so easily.

Soon enough, it was time for Peter to leave to the airport. Emily kissed him goodbye, hoping that the house sale would happen soon enough. She was grateful for the generosity of whoever had it been, but too proud to simply settle for that. The house probably wasn’t worth a third of the money they’d need to cover the expenses, but if she donated to the hospital whatever amount she got from selling it, at least she wouldn’t feel so bad about not having any control over a stranger’s overbearing generosity.  Or even about how she didn’t have a way to properly thank them.

With that thought in mind, Emily felt a little more hopeful for the first time since that nightmare had begun. As if hearing about her sister’s backstabbing betrayal hadn’t been enough, she had lost her mother way too quickly. And then there was the other thing that Emily refused to think about, because unlike her sister and her mother, who Emily would never again see, Lucas’ face would still pop on the TV or cover the front page of the newspaper every now and then. And each time it did, her heart would shatter with all the mean, cruel words he’d said to her the last time they were together.

Deciding that Lucas Hunt wasn’t worth any more seconds of her thoughts, Emily decided to be practical and get back to work. She was still mourning her mother, and her editor at Seattle Times had been kind enough to give the journalist a couple of days off, even though she was new there. But he had made it clear that since the paper’s sport section wouldn’t properly cover Lucas Hunt’s millionaire transfer from LA Galaxy to the Seattle Sounders on the immediate moment it happened, they should at least devote a proper segment to talk about him in one of the followings days. 

It was still early in the evening so even though she was physically and mentally exhausted, Emily decided not to go to bed until she got a message from Peter saying he was in the airplane. With the TV noise on the background, the young journalist sorted through the mail, seeing a couple of expired bills and two folders with discount coupons. Next to them, she spotted a much larger folder that she’d gotten at the office earlier that day, with all the material her colleagues had judged important for her to take a look at before resuming her activities the following day.

Knowing she was about to get bored with so many sports info, Emily took off her shoes and kicked back on the couch, instantly remembering how uncomfortable that thing was. Her back was still protesting the lumps when she finished reading a two page description of a baseball match and a extensive chronicle about what the teams should expect with the latest NFL draft and how much it would cost each to keep their new players.

After wondering if writing about how poorly the teams were conducting their many six digits contracts would geut her fired, Emily proceeded to sort through the rest of the papers, for the first time noticing a small white envelope. It contained nothing but her name and work address, which was unusual for business mail, that generally had a return address.

But the moment Emily opened the envelope and saw the picture it contained, she realized that letter might not be entirely professional, after all. On the background of Lucas Hunt’s very familiar childhood picture, in which he was fully dressed with the Seattle Sounders uniform while holding a soccer ball and smiling to the camera, she identified a yellow post with it in his familiar handwriting, dated from three days before.

 I am sorry about the mean things I said to you today. I know this picture won’t take back what I did, but I hope it serves you to know I regret the way I treated you. Feel free to use it on your article if you still want to. I know for sure that you won’t share anything about my life that I wouldn’t feel comfortable with and I am sorry that I suggested otherwise. 

Emily read the small note three times. The fact that there wasn’t one single spelling error only wasn’t more impressive than the actual content of the note. She could swear Lucas had been wishing that that was the last he’d seen of her the minute she furiously walked out of the door on their last encounter. She could still see the look of anger on his face and remember the despise in his voice as he’d made accusations against her.

Why had he changed his mind? He’d seemed so insulted when Emily had merely suggested using a childhood picture for a piece. Lucas had refused it instantly, looking at her as if the girl had made him a personal threat. Yet now, he had actually mailed her the picture himself, authorizing the journalist to use it.

Emily frowned once again, unable to concentrate on any other task anymore. That entire day, everything, it was just wasn’t making any sense. She took her hand to her temple, realizing that the minute Lucas Hunt walked back into her life, once again she began losing control over things. It really couldn’t be a coincidence.

At first, the thought came as an innocent supposition in her head. But the gut feeling she had once she realized that prerogative actually did make sense was enough to make her get up and pace back in forth, immersed in her own web of reasoning. 

Emily had a very logical mind and it was automatic that she tried to combine all facts. 

She had grown up in a very poor family and fought her way up throughout most of her life. The only few times someone had ever given her anything had been six years before, when an anonymous donor had magically funded her Ivy League school trip, unexpectedly allowing Emily to finally see Yale for the first time and become sure that studying journalism there was what she wanted. At the time, she had asked the principal where the money had come from and he had told her the information was confidential. And now, when once again an anonymous donor had covered perhaps the most expensive bill of her life overnight.

Emily was still in denial about the whole situation, but if she gave it proper thought, the only common denominator for both situations was that she had met Lucas not long before both. The idea that he could have somehow found out about her debt and paid for it seemed ludicrous, comical even, considering how much he hated her.

But then Emily thought about the picture sent and the message it contained, and just like that, she realized it was the obvious explanation. It was all linked. Somehow, she supposed through his brother, Lucas had found out about her mother. It couldn’t have been anyone else. Emily had spent a big portion of her evening learning about salaries of high profile athletes. What other person that she knew would easily have at his disposal over three hundred grand like that? And because Emily’s mind was so logical, it kept thinking about why on Earth would Lucas ever do anything like that. When realization finally hit her, she felt the worst she’d been all night.

He pitied her.

That had to be it, Emily told herself. Her stomach churned inside her abdomen and she felt nauseated. It really couldn’t be it, she hoped with all her heart she was wrong about her supposition. But deep down, Emily knew she probably wasn’t. Feeling disgusted at the thought, the journalist looked around, searching for her cell phone. On their first encounter, Thomas had said he still had the same number as always. She supposed she still had his contact saved. If anything, Emily would force him to give out his brother’s current location, so that she could find him and let him have it.

Because of one thing, Emily was sure. No one pitied her. 

And she was going to pay Lucas Hunt back every cent of that money. Even if it meant staying in Seattle for longer than she’d planned.

[preservationandruin]

Oathbringer Liveblog, Part Three: Chapters 63-67

Onward!!! Sorry for more delays, but we’re trucking into finals season here, and I’m constantly busy. 

Shallan’s visit to the palace cuts deep, I speculate on Kaladin and cheesy old high school romcom tropes, Jasnah writes the most Extra essay of all time, a lunch is stolen, Dalinar has a PTSD flashback, and I found Hoid

Still with Shallan, here, in Kholinar. Well, Veil, technically, who’s enjoying being in a city, even one as fucked up as Kholinar. The worst areas of Kholinar are near the city walls, where everything is cramped and overcrowded, but the entire city is going to shit. Near the palace, though, shit’s emptier. Even the soldiers, around that area, seem off. 

People in spren costumes are guarding the way to the Oathgate. That’s not good. And there’s fire coming from the platform, and...uh...screams. 

If there are ritual human sacrifices happening I’m going to be so pissed off. Anyway, turns out Veil has more of a thing for Kaladin than Shallan does, although BOTH have SOMEHOW mistaken Kaladin for a brooding bad boy. 

Kaladin’s not a brooding bad boy oh my god. He’s like...a grumpy nerd mom friend. It can be mistaken for brooding edginess from the outside, but. It is not. The way Shallan/Veil describes him you could see him as the typical leather-jacket-wearing bad boy smoking a cigarette in an old high school romcom movie but. Listen. The leather jacket is a hand-me-down and it hides a kitten he took in because he found it in a box in the rain and he’s not smoking, but he sure is delivering a lecture about lung health to whoever is. He glares bc he has 0 sleep and insists on taking on the problems of everyone around him. 

Anyway, the palace. Shallan gets in with the message from Elhokar, although the guards don’t break stride or even say anything. Shallan’s perception of the place is weird as well--the stairs seem to go on forever and then suddenly she’s at the top. 

“I was supposed to deliver it in person,” Veil though she itched to be out of this place. To flee madly, if she were being honest. She had to stay. Whatever she learned here would be of-- One of the soldiers ran her through.

YO WHAT THE FUCK

So uh, that happened. Shallan is trying to think of how to get out of there, and hits on what Jasnah did--faking death, and taking in just enough Stormlight to keep her from bleeding out. She wants to see what they’ll do to a dead body, I think. 

The guard carrying her passed a floor-to ceiling mirror rimmed in a fancy bronze frame, In it, she glimpsed the guard with Lyn thrown over his shoulder. And beyond that, deep within the mirror, something turned--the normal image fading--and looked toward Shallan with a sudden and surprised motion. It looked like a shadow of a person, only with white spots for eyes. 

I reiterate: YO WHAT THE FUCK

She’s dumped in an area where there is just. a line of corpses, some of them rotting, dressed in nice clothing. They’re in what was once the wine cellar. She engages in some hardcore repression to avoid thinking about the fact that she was just impaled and dumped in a room full of rotting corpses, and heads out of there. 

She gets out, and sends Pattern to go get Kaladin. Kaladin, although worried, manages to play it down and make a shitty pun, which helps with Shallan’s repression. 

You know, I would say repressing this isn’t healthy, and it’s not, but at the moment it’s sort of a crisis situation. There isn’t time for a freakout now; repressing it for now and coming back to it later could be the best option. Of course, being Shallan, she’s not going to want to come back to it. 

Over to Dalinar. He’s getting the Honorblade he found, musing to Stormfather that some people thought he was Jezrien or Kalak. Stormfather also notes that Ishar is at least as mad as the others, “more, perhaps.” That’s worrying. 

Only one, [Stormfather] said with a rumble. I...have seen Ishar. He curses me at night, even as he names himself a god. He seeks death. His own. Perhaps that of every man.  It clicked. “Stormfather!”  Yes? “Oh. Uh, that was a curse...Nevermind.” 

This is so funny. Somehow I didn’t think of it happening before it did, despite Stormy’s name being a common swear on Roshar. Anyway, turns out that the god-priest of Tukar who says he’s a god and is waging war and is generally a Thing that’s Been Happening, is Ishar. 

Great. 

Yours is the power Ishar once held. Before he was Herald of Luck, they called him Binder of Gods. He was the founder of the Oathpact. No Radiant is capable of more than you. Yours is the power of Connection, of joining men and worlds, minds and souls. Your Surges are the greatest of all, thought they will be impotent if you seek to wield them for mere battle. 

So that’s kickass. 

“Are there others like me out there?” he finally asked.  Not right now, and there can ever be only three. One for each of us. “Three?” Dalinar said. “Three spren who make Bondsmiths. You...and Cultivation are two?”  The Stormfather actually laughed. You would have a difficult time making her your spren. I should like to see you try it.  “Then who?”  My siblings need not concern you.

BUT STORMY I WANT TO KNOW

Anyway, Dalinar gives the Honorblade to Bridge Four to facilitate their training as Windrunners. Rock ends up taking it, apparently only trusting himself with something that powerful, which is fair. 

Meanwhile, Navani has learned how to give Dalinar’s fabrial wristwatch to have alarms. I love the evolving tale of the fabrial wristwatch and Dalinar attempting to get used to it. 

Anyway, Fen and Dalinar are waiting for Gawx’s Oathgate to open. Dalinar’s going through the gate alone, trying a suggestion from Fen. Navani packs him a lunch and...oh no. I know where that’s going and it’s not to Dalinar. 

Meanwhile, some random soldiers, trying to figure out how to get stormlight, are discussing whether or not you can swallow spheres. God dammit, guys, don’t be idiots. Also, shocking nobody, Sadeas’ men have become even worse under Amaram’s control.

Dalinar notes that it seems completely normal to see Jasnah with a sword, which, fair. Anyway, he’s in Azir on his own. We’ll see how this goes. Again, Dalinar has a moment of almost being able to understand another language. Stormfather comments that if he touched one of them, he could use “Spritual Adhesion” to make the connection. It works--he can speak Azish now. 

And what he brought to Azir wasn’t a sword. It was an essay, written by Queen Fen. And another treatise from Navani, offering state secrets. And the final essay, which was called “Verdict” and written by Jasnah. it’s just one page. 

And if you ever thought Jasnah didn’t inherit the Kholin Extra Gene: 

Though this was the shortest of the essays, he heard them whispering and marvelling over it.  “Look, it incorporates all seven of Aqqu’s Logical Forms!”  “That’s an allusion to the Grand Orientation. And...storms...she quotes Prime Kasimarlix in three successive stages, each escalating the same quotes to a different level of Superior Understanding?”  One woman held her hand to her mouth. “It’s written entirely in a single rhythmic meter!”  “Great Yaezir,” Noura said. “You’re right.” “The allusions...”  “Such wordplay...” “The momentum and rhetoric...” 

JESUS CHRIST, JASNAH. ALL OF IT IN A SINGLE RHYTHMIC METER. WHAT THE FUCK. 

We get another moment of Dalinar getting bothered by the Rift, Rathalas, again--something else happened there. Also, it turns out that while Alethi parshmen had acted Alethi, immediately gathering for war, the Azish parshmen had lodged a complaint with the government. 

Dalinar: contests of kingdoms are supposed to be masculine i should be able to handle this Stormfather: LMAO

AAAAND HIS LUNCH IS GONE. Lift, that was some fast work. 

Lift cocked her head. “Huh. You smell like her.”  “Her?”  “The crazy spren who lives in the forest.”  “You’ve met the Nightwatcher?”  “Yeah...you?”  He nodded. 

She does offer him one of the bowls of dried fruit, which is a surprising gesture from Lift. In any case, they sit there in silence until the viziers come back; Dalinar notes that Noura, the main vizier, does seem fond of Lift, although Lift doesn’t see it that way. 

And Gawx and the council have agreed to meet with Dalinar!  And it was Navani’s essay that convinced them, giving Dalinar a moment to brag a little about his amazing wife. Noura mentions that she thought he would be an animal, a monster--

And it triggers something. A flashback, the worst yet--all of the memories coming back. 

He remembered what had happened to Evi. It had started in a cold fortress, in highlands once claimed by Jah Keved. It had ended at the Rift. 

Oh shit y’all, we’re getting what happened. 

We’re back eleven years ago. Adolin is looking out a window with Dalinar, and Dalinar is showing him a tactical defense against Shardbearers--I gotta say, tween Adolin is adorable. He’s 12. 

Though the last few fights had been disappointing, having his son with him had been an absolute delight. Adolin hadn’t gone into battle, of course, but he’d joined them at tactics meetings. Dalinar had first assumed the generals would be annoyed at the presence of a child, but it was hard to find little Adolin annoying. He was so earnest, so interested. 

This is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen. I wonder what Renarin is doing--he’s probably back with Evi, given that he’d be around, what seven to nine at this point? Still pretty small. 

Dalinar in the present: I’m so glad that I’m exploring ways to ally with people without shows of force. I’m tired of my entire life being fighting and blood and people getting hurt

Dalinar in the past: 

It was gratifying to see how much one could accomplish in both politics and trade by liberally murdering the other fellow’s soldiers. 

Yikes. 

Anyway, Evi comes in and starts fussing over Adolin, who was supposed to be wearing a jacket but wasn’t. He has to go to his geography lessons, but he doesn’t want to leave Dalinar, which again, is adorable. Also he still hugs his mom, even though that’s “un-Alethi.” 

Honestly, being a proper Alethi sounds utterly joyless. Dudes can’t eat sweet food and you can’t hug your parents? That sounds like bullshit. 

Apparently, Renarin stays mostly in Kholinar, and Evi still thinks Dalinar doesn’t see him enough--which, given that Dal literally didn’t answer her letters or talk to her until she came to the battlefield, I’ll believe. Ren probably never sees his dad. 

I know I’ve said this before, but Dalinar did not deserve his wonderful wife and perfect children. He’s connecting with Adolin, but only because Adolin isn’t like him, and he’s not even making an effort with Renarin, and that’s fucking awful parenting. 

Gavilar has sent a letter, saying that they need to talk,  but first, he needs to send Dalinar to the Rift; Dalinar will meet up with Sadeas’ forces, and also someone--nobody knows who--is supporting Tanalan, the person rising against Gavilar’s forces. 

Great. Dalinar, Sadeas, and the Rift. Clearly nothing here will go wrong. 

Dalinar says, casually,  that he doesn’t think they’ll settle back in Kholinar at any point--and then is startled when he looks up to see Evi crying. 

The sight stunned him, and he dropped his pencil. She tried to hold it back, turning toward the fire and wrapping her arms around herself, but the sniffles sounded as distinct and disturbing as breaking bones. 

I love how the similes that Dalinar uses, like the rockbuds like skulls and here, the sniffles like bones breaking, give so much insight into how violent his personality is. It’s wonderful writing.  Anyway, Dalinar didn’t understand how painful living seven years on the road, seven years of constant transition and upheaval and war, were to Evi. Evi even thought of going to the Nightwatcher to ask for intelligence, so she didn’t feel so outclassed by the other women in the area--and when Dalinar says that’s blasphemy, she points out that the only time people seem to care about Vorinism is to point out that it’s better than her beliefs or to swear on the names of the Heralds. 

She’s got a lot of points. And then Dalinar suggests that they go, vacation somewhere, maybe bring Adolin...and Evi has to point out that Dalinar has two sons. 

...you know, I’ve been the kid who gets left out when planning family trips. And it fucking sucks to be the one who always gets forgotten because the other kid is more important. My tolerance of Dalinar’s bullshit (when he’s at this age--current Dalinar is much more appreciative of Renarin, and thank god) is dropping by the second. 

DALINAR! DOES! NOT! DESERVE! HIS! WONDERFUL! WIFE! AND! AMAZING! CHILDREN!

Anyway,  he’s planning to go to the rift, and I’m planning to physically manifest in the book to fistfight him--or, more practically, to infiltrate Kholinar and befriend little Renarin, because it really sounds like he needs more care and affection than he’s getting. 

Anyway, after that, we get to go back to Shallan, who’s still repressing the fact that she was brutally murdered, because she’s Shallan and represses everything. 

I want to make it clear--I love Shallan. I just keep pointing this out because I see it, and it’s dangerous to repress all your emotions. 

A day after being murdered in a brutal fashion, Shallan found that she was feeling much better. The sense of oppression had left her, and even the her horror seemed distant. 

This! is! repression!

Anyway, Elhokar is drawing out a representation of the city, a full map with the palace and Oathgate platform. Shallan even notes that it’s pretty good. He’s still refusing to accept that Aesudan might be part of the problem, but...listen. We all know Elhokar is the world’s worst judge of people. He might just...remain in denial on this point. Certainly everyone else is just like “...sure, Elhokar, we’ll go with that” and exchanging glances behind his back. 

We get that his son’s name is Gavinor, though. That’s adorable. He’s gotta be around six, though, right? Elhokar was at war for around six years, and nobody mentioned trips back to Kholinar. 

Brandon please do not hurt the six-year-old. I realize this is a very low bar but given these books, if we learn that the fires on the Oathgate are ritual sacrifices and whoops, Gavinor was burned to death, i would not be surprised, but I would feel sick to my stomach for the next decade. 

Elhokar has a plan--infiltrate, try to figure out what’s going on with the Oathgate. Adolin and he can try to reconnect with prominent lighteyes who are still doing things and are alive in the city; Kaladin can see who this Azure person is on the wall. 

Adolin points out that they still have to address the fact that Aesudan was accused of being hugely wasteful; Elhokar mentions that Jasnah said that he shouldn’t marry her, but that Elhokar did because he felt like he needed someone strong--oh, I see what happened. It looks like Aesudan was another in the line of people who saw Elhokar, knew that he was weak, and her approach was to gain power by offering herself as a tool to make him look stronger. 

Or she’s a good person, Elhokar’s right, and we’re all barking up the wrong tree. I don’t think this is true, but I want to keep an open mind. 

Shallan is going to investigate the Cult of Moments, and Kaladin also points out--they need to figure out where on earth the food is coming from in the city. 

Veil is on the move in the city! She’s going to try to get a feel for the attitude of Kholinar, how the people think, why this Cult of Moments has such sway. We also get that the bodies that Veil found in the palace were only a few of the over thirty who were supposed to have met with Aesudan, and that these were some of the less powerful ones. 

God, Kholinar is choking to death on its own mysteries. 

Shallan finds a grain station, but it’s not being run well and apparently,  they purposely withhold grain from the poor and the young--some of those who will need it most. Yikes. The servants of lighteyes get food, and the poor darkeyes don’t. Veil is pissed--she seems to be gaining Kaladin’s indignation at lighteyes via osmosis. 

That’s a really weird thing. Shallan is herself a lighteyes--and one who is habitually fairly blind to her own privilege as one. But Veil is a darkeyes, albeit one with access to all of Shallan’s resources. As Veil becomes more definite, I wonder if Shallan will start to empathize more and understand her own position, or will she keep the experiences of her various selves separate? 

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WIT IS IN THE CITY, SPOUTING SOME BULLSHIT ABOUT THE MOONS, OF COURSE. He’s dressed weirdly--he’s gotten his hands on one of Sadeas’s livery coats? and a scarf? 

Anyway, he’s busking, as he tends to. he’s telling a story about Tsa, a queen of Natanatan, and Mishim, the middle moon and the cleverest, who tries to escape her duty. Wit’s doing that thing where he’s using powders and smoke to make magical scenes in something that is and is not like Lightweaving; something startled him for a moment, but he moved back into the story. Mishim gets Queen Tsa to think that one of her towers--her works of art--were blemished from the top. Tsa then offered to trade places with Mishim, so she could see from the top. 

And Wit recognizes Shallan, despite her wearing Veil’s face. Of course he does. I’m not even surprised. 

Anyway, apparently Tsa got along better with the other two moons than Mishim did, and apparently Tsa had a child with Mishim--a child with blue skin, and that’s why the people of Natanatan have bluish skin. Interesting--I wonder if some part of this is relevant or true? We know that it’s possible that the Natanatan people are half-Aimian and that’s how the skin happened. 

Anyway, Wit doesn’t answer why he told that story now, but instead says that he misses his flute, and then says that Shallan looks like she could use the opportunity to...buy him food. 

Well, our favorite freeloading magic hobo has returned. 

[blacklister214]

Second Son New Chapter: The Contractor

Jacob stared at the red numbers on the digital clock, willing himself to fall back to sleep. In the past 42 hours he’d snatched maybe five cumulative hours of rest. Jacob shifted his position and counted backward from 100, but was no use. His mind was buzzing and apparently even his recent physical exertions hadn’t been enough to quiet it.

Jacob carefully eased off the mattress so as not to wake the woman lying beside him. He pulled on his boxers and crossed the room to the computer desk. A quick glance at the monitor told Jacob he wasn’t the only person in the apartment complex with trouble sleeping in. He watched Elizabeth Scott doing crunches in her living room, blissfully oblivious that her workout was being observed.

Eight years had passed since he’d last seen Liz, but her face remained so familiar to him. When he’d returned to Reddington all those years ago, he had disassociated himself with Elizabeth Scott. He never sought further information from Reddington. He never did so much as a Google search.  

This wasn’t to say, however, that he wasn’t aware of the broad strokes of her life. He’d acquired the information accidentally, through a comments innocently dropped by Reddington. It wasn’t Jacob’s fault that he had had perfect recall of each and every one of those facts. It wasn’t his fault that he knew she had graduated at the top of her class from the University of Baltimore or that she did her graduate work in Forensic Psychology at The University of Columbia. He couldn’t be blamed for knowing that she started with the FBI’s Mobile Psych Unit out of NYC in 2009, nor that she was currently on loan a DC Task Force hunting the Good Samaritan Killer.

Jacob had been surprised and a bit disappointed to learn Liz had pursued a career in Law Enforcement. The girl he’d met in Ohama had been volatile, wild, and a little ruthless. She was one of the last people on Earth he would have picked to choose a life dedicated to following and enforcing rules.

Perhaps it was the risky nature of her job that had drawn her to it. Elizabeth was hunting the most dangerous people in the country, or at least the most dangerous people the FBI knew about. Jacob was well acquainted with the rush of dancing on the edge of a knife, but he felt Elizabeth had picked the wrong blade to try it on. Liz wasn’t suited to the side of the law she’d aligned herself with, at least not the seventeen-year old Liz he’d known. She may have cleaned up her act in the intervening years, but in Jacob’s experience people couldn’t change who they were.

“What are you doing?” Jacob glanced back over his shoulder at the gorgeous blonde in the bed. He hoped his chagrin at being caught studying Elizabeth Scott wasn’t evident on his face. He gestured to the papers that were haphazardly spread across the computer desk.

“Working. That man is still out there.” Before he and the contractor had begun their extracurricular activities, they had been on official business. Nineteen hours ago he’d received a call from Ms. Hartwell that her protectee, Elizabeth Scott had had an uninvited guest in her apartment.  

At approximately 10 am, long after Scott and her boyfriend had left for work, a single man, dressed baseball cap, sunglasses, and a cable uniform had broken in and copied the contents of Scott’s personal computer. The intruder had rifled through Scott’s belongings and papers, taking photographs, then returning everything to the exact place he’d found it. Whoever the guy was, he was both thorough and efficient, making it in and out in less than fifteen minutes.

Every instinct Jacob had screamed the man was a professional, but working for whom, Jacob hadn’t the slightest clue. He wasn’t even sure what the man had been after and that bothered Jacob more than anything else. He didn’t like not knowing things.      

“You worried about Little Miss FBI? You don’t think I’m capable of protecting her?” Jacob smirked at the woman’s question. Reddington had an intense distaste for the St. Regis program, despite sharing some kind of history with the school’s founder. For years he’d avoided contracting any operatives associated with the school, despite the fact they had an unbelievably high success rate. When Reddington had decided Elizabeth Scott had needed protection however, he’d violated his self-imposed boycott. Shubbie Hartwell, as this woman was known to Jacob, was supposedly the best of the best.    

“I would never dream of implying you weren’t good at your job, Ms. Hartwell. Mr. Reddington is very satisfied with your performance thus far.” That may have been overstating things. Reddington would have been considerably happier if Hartwell had been able to apprehend the intruder, but she’d been parked in a car thirty minutes away at the time of the break-in, following her primary directive of keeping eyes on Scott. Still, even an agitated Raymond Reddington had to be reasonable enough to recognise the woman couldn’t be in two places at once.  

“How about you, Mr. Phelps? Are you “very satisfied” with my performance?” The seductive purr in the operative’s voice convinced Jacob to turn around and give her his full attention. Wavy ash blonde hair, large chocolate eyes, lush pink lips, and curves in all the right places. She was fantasy made flesh, which a distant part of his mind recognised was the point. It was part of St. Regis’ graduates claim to fame: they were seductive, brilliant, and lacking in human empathy. The latter made have bothered some, but Jacob wasn’t among them.    

“I think you know the answer to that.” Jacob wasn’t so vain as to think Hartwell was solely interested in him for his own good looks, but he didn’t mind. People used other people. It was the way of the world. If you were lucky, like Jacob had been, you’d stumble across a few exceptions, but for the most part people looked after themselves. He didn’t resent Hartwell for attempting to sink her hooks into him, but if she thought whatever fun they had together was enough to impact his decisions or loyalty in any real way, she would be disappointed.  

“Then why are you all the way over there rather than back here in this bed?” Tempted though he was, he had to decline.

“Because my boss is expecting an update in less than six hours.” Jacob reluctantly tore his eyes away from the naked woman, and turned his attention back the evidence she’d prepared for him. Playtime was at an end for the evening. Now was the time to focus on the task at hand.

“You know this might not have anything to do with Reddington. The target does hunt serial killers for a living.” Hartwell joined him at the desk wearing a black silk robe. Her tone had become harder, more professional, reminding Jacob of how quickly she was capable of shifting gears.

“Reddington has someone running down that particular possibility as we speak, but he expects me to focus on the theory that it very much is about him.” The good news was that whatever the man was looking for, he clearly didn’t find it. Hartwell had arrived too late to catch the intruder, but after reviewing the surveillance footage, she’d conducted her own investigation into the laptop’s contents and come up with nothing. Scott’s personal computer didn’t have much on it except some personal photos, taxes forms, her music library, and a downloaded flyer from a dog adoption center. Certainly nothing that would be of interest to Reddington’s enemies.  

“What is his obsession with this woman anyway? Why go through the expense of having her protected?” Jacob wasn’t fooled or amused by Hartwell’s off-hand tone. Was this the question she’d been working toward during those passion filling wee hours of the morning?

“That’s none of your damn business.” Hartwell raised an eyebrow at the frost in his voice.

“It was an innocent question.”

“You are many things, Ms. Hartwell, but innocent is not among them.” She had been deliberately fishing for confidential information. The question was if she had been merely hoping to squirrell the information away for future use, or if she’s been acting at the behest of someone else.

“You wouldn’t like me half so much if I was.” Hartwell deliberately ran a hand up then down his chest. Jacob intercepted her before she reached her final destination.

“Maybe not, but tread carefully.” Hartwell was intriguing, it was true, but if she imagined that he wouldn’t end her the second she turned on Reddington, she was mistaken. Hartwell’s smile widened as she received his fairly blatant warning. She stepped backward, raising her hands in a mock gesture of surrender.

“Relax, I would never dream of betraying your boss.” The operative sank down into the desk chair and crossed her legs, deliberately hiking the fabric of her robe up a few more inches. She really did seem to enjoy playing with him.

“Because you’re so trustworthy?” The noise Hartwell would have a chuckle, if she hadn’t stifled it the instant it came out of her mouth. God forbid an agent of the Major actually release a laugh into the universe. The walls of St. Regis would surely crumble.

“Because the potential reward is lesser than the potential risk. Reddington’s reputation precedes him...as does yours.” That was gratifying to hear, though that might have been the entire reason she’d said it. It never paid to underestimate a potential enemy.  

“Good, then we won’t have a problem. I’d hate for things between us to become...contentious.” Hartwell shrugged philosophically, her lack of concern seemingly at odds with her prior statement.

“I don’t know, I think war with you might be interesting...but for as long my contract is in effect neither of us will be finding out.” That at least was consistent with St. Regis reputation. Once they were under contract, they stayed bought.

Jacob allowed himself to relax a little and return his focus to the surveillance photos.The man was going to be a nightmare to track. The angle of the camera, combined with the baseball cap meant they hadn’t gotten one clear of the guy’s face. Naturally the building had no exterior cameras, so Jacob didn’t even know if the target of his search had walked to Liz’s building, taken the metro, used a cab service, or driven there in his own damn car.

Given unlimited time, Jacob could probably work out a way find the intruder, but one of Reddington’s many lessons over the years was the wisdom of delegating. Certain people had certain skills and a smart man knew when and how to utilize them. As it fate would have it the most talented tracker in the business worked in the DC area. Unfortunately he was also the most obnoxious tracker in the business. Jacob sighed and his eyes drifted over to the computer’s split screen. Elizabeth Scott had left the living room and moved into the kitchen. He bent closer, unsure what he was seeing.

“Is she trying to cook a frozen waffle in a frying pan?” He glanced over at Hartwell for confirmation and the woman rolled her eyes.

“It would not surprise me. She’s already set off the smoke alarm twice this month. Scott’s probably more a threat to herself than whoever the mystery man is. I wouldn’t be surprised if she lit the whole building on fire. You would think the stupid woman would learn her limitations.” Jacob bristled at the slight to Liz’s intelligence. Elizabeth Scott wasn’t stupid, she was stubborn. She refused to quit in the face of adversity...or in this case the utter lack of culinary skills. He couldn’t help but find that endearing. The old thread of sentiment tugged at his heartstrings, reminding him why he needed to conclude this business as quickly as possible.

Jacob began tapping on the computer keys, minimizing the surveillance feeds, and pulling up the internet browser. Hartwell frowned and stood, looking over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking up the hours of operation for a local DMV.” And after the address of the nearest liquor store. If he was going to speak to Glen “Jelly Bean” Carter he was going to need a drink.   

[stevedonnellyfaith-blog]

Of Crucifixion and Chocolate Cake (Post 82) 4-1-15

                        “Crucify Him,” we all exclaimed in unison to fulfill our role in the liturgy of Passion Sunday.  It still always bothers me to call for Christ’s torture and execution as if I am an unknowing first century Jew who doesn’t recognize the holy man from Nazareth as Our Savior and the Son of the Living God.  There is but one role in the Gospel for a Bruce Willis or Clint Eastwood type who heroically tries to protect Jesus from the marauding collection of bozos bent on infamously seizing the Lord, binding Him and bringing the Lamb of God before Pontius Pilate for final sentencing.  With regard to action hero parts in the Gospel, St Peter’s sword fight didn’t end well and the first Pope’s script in the next act is extremely undesirable.   Being an anonymous but bloodthirsty extra in the annual pantomime of the Passion is probably just as well.

In an act of cognitive dissonance reduction I convince myself that I am actually like the narrator who omnisciently describes the scene but plays no part in the drama.  Jesus’s actual words stand in opposition to my self-gratifying delusion:

‘If we had been living in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partners with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.’  “So you testify against yourselves, that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets.  “Fill up, then, the measure of the guilt of your fathers. [Matthew 23:30-32]’

I suppose I am a hypocrite to believe that I would have stood with the crowd of disciples on Palm Sunday yelling, “Hosanna,” rather than with the Jerusalem mob a week later asking for the release of Barabbas and the immolation of the Son of God.  In all likelihood I would have missed both the triumphal entrance of Christ riding His prophetically commandeered donkey as well as His trial and sentencing not even seven days following.  I expect I would have most likely been engaged in some type of whatever passed for goofing-off in the year 32 as the Lord was excruciated to save me from my sins. My measure of guilt is filled from the fact that I recognize Christ for who He is and His role in delivering me from my sins, yet I continue to sin nonetheless.

Last Saturday night I found myself sitting next to Father Joseph in a restaurant at a combined birthday party for four friends.  Most of the people present knew that I would be beginning my eastward migration this Wednesday afternoon so it was also an evening of pleasant goodbyes among many people whom I have come to know as friends. It was pure providence that Father Joseph and I ended up sitting next to each other at the table mostly dedicated to the huge and delicious chocolate cake that one of my friends had made from scratch. Outside of brief and anonymous encounters to receive the Eucharist or absolution, there is no reason for Father Joseph to be able to identify Steve Donnelly’s mug shot from a random six-pack picture line-up of IHM male parishioners.  Despite the brevity and lack of intimacy in our relationship, Father Joseph’s thinking continues to have a profound impact on my spirituality.

“Stop giving up chocolate, and give up sinning instead,” I heard him tell the umpteenth person who asked him for a special dispensation for his or her husband or wife to enjoy a heavenly piece of the mocha manna that had been expertly prepared by the purveyor of Travale’s Treats, who bakes delicious cakes to order and advertises on Instagram.  The dessert was extraordinarily spectacular to the extent that I saw four or five members or the restaurant’s kitchen staff queue up at the table to receive a slice of the delightful homage to tiramisu buried in milk chocolate shavings.

The good padre offered his advice with a characteristic twinkle in his eye.  He knew the good people were asking in jest and that everybody present who was abstaining from chocolate or dessert understood the implication of the story of the disciples eating raw wheat on their journey during the Sabbath nearly twenty centuries ago. Lenten mortifications are helpful to Christians as they seek to establish the discipline to avoid sin throughout the rest of the year, but the most pleasing sacrifice is a contrite heart.  In his enigmatic and playful style Father Joseph was encouraging people to go a step deeper in their spirituality.  Fasting from treats is helpful to the soul, but should we default to superficial sacrifices like eschewing éclairs for forty days while our souls continue to marinade in deeper iniquity?

There is a triviality to our modern liturgical observance of Lent that smacks of a Claymation Peter Cottontail cartoon or an inflatable plastic Frosty the Snowman yard ornament.  A good friend of mine told me once about how he worried obsessively about mistakenly eating meat once on a Lenten Friday during a period of his life when his personal behavior was a Golden Corral buffet of a mortal sinning. To his current reckoning his consternation over an inadvertent salami sandwich seems like a delusional caricature of what a Lenten journey should really be.

As a fresh alternative, Father Joseph seemed to be encouraging us to apply the Pareto Principle to our various vices.  By the 80-20 Rule, twenty percent of our transgressions will likely cost us eighty percent of the hell-fire we have reserved in our temporal punishment lay-away account called purgatory.  Whether it is fornication, birth control, pornography or cruelty to animals that is most corrosive to our souls, we ought to give that up first and worry about our donut fetish or our penchant towards profanity during a Lenten season decades hence after we have shored up our more serious misconduct.

It is true that Jesus redeemed our past sins with His sacrifice on Calvary.  His Precious Blood also paid for the future debaucheries that we will likely commit on next Thursday. He also footed the bill for whatever peccadillos we perpetrate on a fall Friday evening in 2035.  Still, the infinite value of His heavenly trust fund for us ought not to encourage us towards complacency with regard to our transgressions.  Our salvation is assured if we accept His free gift, but there is no assurance of our happiness here on earth other than our submission to the Lord and our obedience to His will.  Also we are really only renting our souls and bodies anyway; at some point we will have to return them to the dealership.  Driving God’s property as if we are car-jackers seems extremely ill-advised. Jesus treated his borrowed mule quite responsibly; we ought to consider doing the same with the items over which we exercise stewardship.

If the issue of sin and virtue really boils down to love of God and love of your neighbors versus love of ourselves, Father’s Joseph’s point is that the fulcrum of the biggest danger to our soul is not likely to come packaged in a Krispy Kreme box.  Whatever it is that facilitates our prioritization of self over others is a better subject for our Lenten offering than cake or sweets.  Is what we are watching on television, searching on our laptop or playing on our cellphone placing a barrier between us and those we love including God?  Our priority should be to give up or limit that activity for forty days whether the calendar reads March or October.  

In the remaining hours of our desert journey we can still correct our course.  Immediate action is best because nobody has an infinite amount of time to demonstrate that we accept the free gift of our salvation.  Judas Iscariot was offered the same gift that he could have accepted up until the very last second of his life, but that moment comes to each of us not named Enoch or Elijah.  Jesus walked the paths of Galilee and Judea for only thirty-two years.  In reality, we are guaranteed only that we have less time left to us today than we had yesterday.  Easter’s message is resurrection for us as well as Jesus, but the path to the feast lies through the valley of the shadow of death. Let us not transport ourselves to Sunday, without gaining what is to be gained on even the very last of these forty days of voluntary tribulation.  Jesus arose on Sunday with a glorified body, but His wounds from Friday significantly remain for us to regard and respect by curtailing our sins.

[pamphletstoinspire]

A Typical Day In The Life Of Saint Padre Pio

Padre Pio:

Padre Pio was born on May 25, 1887 in Pietrelcina, Italy, and baptized in the name Francesco. From his early childhood he was visited regularly by his guardian angel and the Blessed Virgin Mary. He did not think this was unusual until a young friend told him otherwise. He was ordained a priest in the Capuchin Order on August 10, 1910. His young priestly life was marked by numerous episodes of poor health, and also included a short stint with the military. After being discharged from the Army in 1918, he was stationed at the monastery at San Giovanni Rotondo, Italy, never to leave until his death. On December 20, 1918 he was blessed with the extraordinary visible stigmata of Christ (5 wounds on his hands, feet and side).

His priestly ministry was characterized by humility, perseverance and obedience to his priestly duties, especially to the celebration of Holy Mass, hours in the confessional, and spiritual direction. He was able to read into the hearts of many who came to him for confession, often reminding them of un-confessed sins and foretelling future occurrences in their lives and God's will for them. A hugh International cult rose up around Padre Pio, manifesting itself in constant crowds of pilgrims to the monastery to attend his Holy Masses and to confess to him.

INSPIRING WORDS FROM PADRE PIO

"Pray, hope, and don't worry. Worry is useless. God is merciful and will hear your prayer."

"Pray, pray to the Lord with me, because the whole world needs prayer. and every day, when your heart especially feels the loneliness of life, pray. Pray to the Lord, because even God needs our prayers."

"You must always humble yourself lovingly before God and before men, because God speaks only to those who are truly humble and He enriches them with His Gifts."

"In all the events of life, you must recognize the Divine Will. Adore and bless it, especially in the things which are the hardest for you."

"Prayer is the best weapon we have; it is the key to God's heart. You must speak to Jesus not only with your lips, but with your heart. In fact on certain occasions you should only speak to Him with your heart."

"Who can assure us that we will be alive tomorrow? Let us listen to the voice of our conscience, to the voice of the royal prophet: 'Today, if you hear God's voice, harden not your heart.' Let us not put off from one moment to another (what we should do) because the (next Moment) is not yet ours."

"Don't allow any sadness to dwell in your soul, for sadness prevents the Holy Spirit from entering freely."

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF PADRE PIO

This represents an imaginary day in the life of Padre Pio but as the routine of the friary did not change much it would have been very much a typical day. Each picture has a brief commentary with an interesting anecdote or quote.

***

Padre Pio's day would begin about 2:30 a.m. when an alarm clock would ring in his cell. He would make the sign of the cross, kiss his rosary, glance at the image of Jesus and Mary and then say a prayer of thanksgiving to God for the new day. He would get up three hours before the other friars to prepare himself suitably for the celebration of Mass. I say he would get up and not wake up because he slept very little.

Fra Modestino of Pietrelcina, in his book "Testimonies of Padre Pio", recounts: "One evening in 1964, I was alone with the Padre by his bed. Suddenly he said to me: `Listen, my son, pray to God that I am able to sleep. My eyes hurt and I am exhausted. It is three years that I have not slept"

***

At the end of holy Mass Padre Pio would return to the sacristy, preceded and followed by a group of men who wanted to touch him and see him from close up. Without talking and still immersed in the divine mysteries just celebrated, he would remove the sacred vestments and would recollect himself in intense prayer of thanksgiving. He would be aware of nothing around him. If he could, he would have remained for hours in that intimate dialogue. And when he tasted all the sweetness of the immaculate flesh of Jesus, received in the sacrament, he felt himself in paradise!

Padre Pio at the end of holy Mass, never omitted to do his thanksgiving. And our Lord would gratify him with marvellous experiences. In fact, to Padre Agostino, his confessor, he confided: "Yesterday, only God knows how much sweetness I experienced, especially after holy Mass, so much so that I still feel them. My head and heart were on fire; but it was fire that did me good. My mouth tasted all the sweetness of that Immaculate flesh of the son of God". (Letters I).

At 9:30 a.m., with a surplice and stole, Padre Pio would distribute Communion to those penitents just absolved of their sins and those other faithful who wished to receive the sacred species from his wounded hands. He was happy to see so many pilgrims approach "the sacred banquet of the divine Lamb that he considered such a powerful remedy against human weakness, and a “great means to aspire to holy perfection". He desired however that all approach the Eucharistic table with the desire and the intention to remove from their hearts all that displeases the One who becomes bread for us.

To his spiritual daughter Raffaelina Cerase, Padre Pio wrote: "Let us approach to receive the bread of angels with great faith and with a great flame of love in our hearts. Let us await this most tender lover of our souls in order to be consoled in this life with the kiss of His mouth. Happy are we if we succeed in receiving from the Lord the consolation of this kiss in the present life!". (Letters II).

Padre Pio surrounded by the crowds and all the pushing and even fanatical outbursts that he always firmly scolded, would successfully reach the protection of the cloister. On the way, women and men of every age and social standing would be waiting for him, in the sacristy, in the corridor or in the "St. Francis hall", to ask him for advice, a prayer, a blessing; to give him a letter or an offering to give vent to their troubles, to recount their sufferings. And the stigmatic of the Gargano would give to all, words of comfort, spiritual direction and paternal exhortations.

While Padre Pio was going by, a voice called from the crowd: "Padre, what must I tell my sister, Rose?". The woman convinced that she could obtain from him an answer... direct from heaven, almost shouting repeated: "Padre, what must I tell my sister Rose?" Padre Pio, to repress any fanaticism, answered: "Tell her that she will become a carnation..." and indeed she soon later met and married a man called Carnation. (Gennaro Preziuso, Padre Pio, Apostle of the Confessional).

At lunch time the friars summoned by the bell would unite in the refectory. Padre Pio would join them a little later having been delayed in the blessing of a car in the garden or held up by someone talking. Arriving at his place, he would kneel down with his arms outstretched, to thank providence for the food he was about to eat. His prayer would continue until he ate a few mouthfuls. He would then pass his plate to the friar sitting next to him and he would remain to listen to the reading of the Gospel or the Franciscan Rule.

A fellow friar asked Padre Pio: "Padre , how are you able to live on so little food?" The Padre answered: "There are in nature fertile and non fertile fields. For the former, one grain of wheat will produce much; for the latter not even with the best fertilizers will any grain be produced. It must be the same with the human body or at least it is so for me." (Testimony from the Process of Canonization of Padre Pio).

Padre Pio would make holy the short pause for rest with the reading of Vespers and Compline. Then he would remain a few minutes on the veranda of the friary, with his inseparable rosary in his hands and his thoughts always turned to God. At 3:00 p.m. he was again in the sacristy to hear the confessions of the men. At 5:00 p.m., from the choir loft, he would join in the communal recitation of the rosary. At 5:30 p.m. he would lead the evening Benediction and recite the prayer to Mary Most Holy composed by St. Alphonsus de Liguori.

In reciting every evening "the prayer to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament" Padre Pio would be deeply moved, even to tears. To Padre Agostino of San Marco in Lamis he wrote: "I often ask myself if any people exist who do not feel their breast burning with divine fire, especially when they are close to him in the Blessed Sacrament. This seems impossible to me, especially in the case of a priest or a religious". (Letters I,).

Once Vespers were over; Padre Pio, when the weather was good, would go into the garden for some fresh air. He would walk along the path between the row of pine trees, or he would watch a game of bowling played by the friars. Then, in the summer, in the shade of a tree, or in the winter in a room of the friary, he would spend half an hour in conversation. To those present he would bring joy and smiles with his sense of humor and with his anecdotes that had a moral lesson he would give insights into the spiritual life.

Padre Pio once recounted that at Foggia, in the church of St. Anne, a fellow Friar told him loudly that a doctor friend was arriving to see him. An elderly lady who had just confessed to Padre Pio, asked him at once if this friend could visit her daughter who was ill. Padre Pio answered her that the friend was a doctor of "philosophy"....The woman thinking that philosophy was a part of medical science, commented: "How many illnesses there are in the world!...Thanks all the same, Padre, but my daughter is not ill with philosophy". (Fr. A. Ripabottoni, "Padre Pio Recounts and Says").