#I do think author intent matters and plays a role in these things

[absolutebl]

Hello!

I was wondering if you’ve seen Good Omens (2 seasons out on Amazon Prime) and if you would consider it BL? It has some similar aspects while other aspects are considerably different. Thoughts?

I started watching Season 1 but like Our Flag Means Death it's not really my thing. I don't watch much TV in English anymore unless I have to for work.

I do not consider it in any way BL. It has none of the tropes, origins, source material, country, archetypes, settings, characters, or yaoi heritage. There's nothing BL about it.

It's kinda gay, I guess?

ALL BL has a queer romantic arc, but not all content with a queer romantic arc is BL.

Also, Good O doesn't NEED to be associated with BL. It's not in it's marketing or DNA. It's not relevant to its fanbase or demographics. Why would they want to slap a BL moniker on it? Why would you? Why would anyone?

I mean there is crossover watchers (between BL and us) but that's about it. But that's because it's Gaimen (not because it's at all BL) and for some reason Gaimen is a big deal with lots of fans. (Don't @ me I can't STAND his stuff. It's like Stephen King. I'm never gonna get it. You do you massive fandoms, don't involve me, I don't like your content. I'm side eyeing Star Wars, Twilight, and Harry Potter too. Look I'm either too old or too young and that shit just sailed by me and I toddled along in a weird kid fog of trying to find queer shit as a total geek - which, as a few of you reading this know, took us olds to some very odd places in the days before the internet... bootlegged Ranma ½ anyone? Just me?)

See my feels on Heartstopper for more on this kind of discussion.

Also, I do think I'm coming down pretty firmly on the side of...

BL has to be Asian.

Something about the cultural and linguistic backbone means BL just doesn't seem to work if it comes from somewhere else.

I'm thinking also about the great 2020 Dialogue around Date Me, Bryson Keller - which is an English Language derivative(?) work of my favorite BL of all time, Seven Days.

And I really don't want to get into that kind of debate again.

All of which is to say:

Good Omens is not BL.

IMHO of course. But...

I'm right.

So there.

*** Added note from the comments chatting with @heretherebedork

The point of genre (or sub genre) is to manage our expectations. It's like the label on a TV dinner. We gotta know if we're getting Spaghetti or Pad Thai. That packaged meal could very well be a terrible execution of either, and they ARE both noodles, but I want my expectations met. And if I opened a container labeled Pad Thai and got spaghetti I'd be pretty darn pissed.

If someone sold me Good Omens by saying it was a BL? And I watched it thinking it was? I'd be mad at both them and it.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eight

authors note: so....i like cliched shit, so there's some of that here. hope it's not too much. this one is also very heavy at points, so please read the warnings, but it def has its moments that help progress the plot. also, the book referenced is a real work that we often use in therapy with survivors of sexual trauma. an excellent, powerfully healing read. i own neither the book nor the excerpt used.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: references to csa, aftermath of csa, character being triggered, scene of violence/torture, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 12k (i clearly don't know how to stop. it is what it is)

It's out of our hands We can't stop what we have begun

---Leann Rimes

“Clarke.”

There’s a heavy sigh followed by continued writing, icy blue eyes focused on the report before her instead of the irksome man before her, no doubt giving her those ‘fuck me’ eyes that would be an HR nightmare if HR actually did any fucking thing at this precinct.

She finishes her quote before asking with all the intentional disinterest, “what do you want, Reed?”

His question, as well as his intrusion by her desk, is expected. “why aren’t you joining the rest of us for the luncheon today?”

It’s none of his business, and Danica has no issues telling him that in intentionally vague terms. “Got somewhere to be.” 

Finally looking up, she sees Reed’s gaze go cold. “Where?”

Danica drops her pin and answers in the sweetest yet nastiest voice she can muster before 10am. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but the Miller girl is being released from the hospital today.”

Reed is just as confused as he is stupid. “Who?”

His obtuseness shouldn’t surprise nor irritate her, but it does. She remembers every single case she’s ever worked, and she’s certain this one will always remain at the top of the list. No matter how far she gets into her career. “Solana Miller. Xavier Miller’s daughter. The home invasion—”

“I know.” Reed’s almost relaxed, nosy disposition has entirely shifted. “Captain said the case was closed. Kid doesn’t want to press charges.”

“That kid is fucking traumatized. Don’t put that on her. Xavier is the one refusing to let us proceed.”

Reed leans forward, harshly whispering, “keep your fucking voice down, alright? Miller is…..he’s not someone you want to piss off. If he says we don’t run it, then we don’t run it, got it?”

“And who the hell is he to decide how the law works?” Clarke is also leaned over her desk, almost a month worth of pent up frustration with the lack of justice bubbling to the surface. “You read that medical report. You were on the scene. You don’t beat a grown man the way they beat that little girl. She could barely fucking walked. Dragged herself to a neighbors to ask for help. It’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

“But she is, okay?” He’s also matching her energy, just as passionate about blatant injustice as she is for said justice. “The best thing to do for that kid is to let her go home, heal, and move on with her life.”

And that’s the part that almost breaks her, that almost makes her shift from her role as an advocate to the survivor within that so deeply identifies with Solana.“You really think it’s that simple? Like she can just go back into the house where she was raped and almost killed and pretend like nothing happened?”

“No, I don’t know, Clarke, and quite frankly, I don’t care. I’m moving on and picking my battles wisely.” His voice switches to something ominous. “And if you knew what was good for you, you’d move on too.”

Aware of the underlying implications of his warning, she calls his bluff, “you threatening me?”

“Believe it or not, I actually do like you, Danica, but you’re playing a dangerous game.” Reed’s voice lowers again, and Danica almost feels like he’s trying to be genuine. “I know you’re still new around here, so let me give some free advice. Xavier Miller is a dangerous man. He’s got friends in places you don’t want to find out about. Leave this alone before you’re the next mutilated body we find floating in the river, alright?”

________

Danica Clarke has always been stubborn, a trait she’s certain will lead to her demise, but if this is the route that brings her to said demise, she’s okay with it. 

Danica waits in the doorway, aware of how knocking can be alarming. She waits and assesses for the moment Solana’s gaze is close enough to where she won’t be as startled. “Hey there, pretty girl….”

Sure enough, Solana jumps a bit, and Danica is pleased to see the swelling on her face has gone down tremendously and the bruising has started to fade to an almost flesh toned color. She looks less at death’s door than the first time Danica was introduced to the 12-year-old.

“Can I come in?”

As expected, Solana doesn’t say anything, just nods quietly. 

Danica moves to sit in the chair on the side of the bed. “Heard you were getting released today….” Danica studies Solana carefully, adding kindly, “may be kinda nice to have a change of scenery.”

Solana remains quiet, but Danica has been around enough survivors, remembers her own survivor story, to know that nothing feels nice or good in the immediate aftermath. There’s just numbness and pain. No in-between.

“I’m so sorry there’s nothing more I can do to help you, Solana. I really am.” And she means that with every fiber of her being. “You didn’t deserve this. You deserve justice, and I wish there was more I could do, but….my hands are tied.” Danica’s only been at this precinct for less than six months, and while asking to be transferred won’t be a good look when evaluations roll around, she doesn’t give a fuck. She can’t serve with bastards who would let sick fucks like Solana’s attackers walk around freely. 

It’s too repulsive.

“But, I do…..I want to give you something.” Danica reaches into her backpack and pulls out something she hasn’t had to look at in years. A book, thick, with yellow, paperback binding. The edges are a bit worn, and certain parts are highlighted, but it’s still just as powerful nonetheless. “When I was….a little younger than you, I was raped too.” Danica sees Solana’s gaze lift up, surprise and shock written on her face. “And it wasn’t until I was a freshman in college that I started to heal and finally process what’d happened to me.” Danica’s lips press together. “The counselor I saw in college, she gave me this book, and it changed my life.”

Solana looks down, reading the title, typed in big, black letters: The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse.

“I wanna read something out of it for you, if that’s alright?” Consent, especially now, is everything, so Danica waits patiently for Solana again to nod, permitting her permission to read. 

With a deep breath to also prepare herself for revisiting the past, she begins reading a passage that Solana can see she has highlighted. 

“I know you're in a world of pain, but that pain will lessen. At the beginning you can't see that. You can only see your pain and you think it will never go away. But the nature of pain is that it changes— it changes like a sunset. At first, it's this intense red-orange in the sky, and then it starts getting softer and soften. The texture of pain changes as you work through it. And then one day, you wake up and realize that life isn't just about working through your abuse; it's about living, too.”

Danica looks up to see Solana sniffling, wiping at her eyes. She’s tempted to reach and take her hand, but she also knows better, knows that the last thing this child wants is to be touched.

“I want you to have this, Solana. I want you to take it, and when you’re older, when you’re ready to reclaim your voice, and you will, I want you to read every word in here. From cover to back cover. You’re gonna be okay, sweetie. You don’t feel it now, but you have to believe it.” Her eyes gloss over. “Don’t ever stop living, Solana.”

“Solana.”

Flashbacks and memories from that time of her life don’t happen often, and it’s an intentional thing on Solana’s part.

She doesn’t like thinking about that part, but this certain memory has now revisited her a total of three times now. Twice in a dream and now in the middle of a conversation with Bayley and Naomi.

That…..that can’t be a coincidence.

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing seems like the most appropriate thing until Naomi shakes her head.

“Roman said we’re not supposed to accept or condone you apologizing for anything, so imma pretend like I didn’t hear that, sis.” 

Roman….

He confuses her. 

He’s certainly unlike any man she’s ever met. And though that number is far from generous, he’s still the anomaly. 

After essentially rejecting what was an….interesting, unfamiliar, different experience between the two of them, she expected him to be upset. To be frustrated. To be absolutely all over her baggage. To ignore her.

But, that’s not what happened, none of that has happened. Instead, he’s carried on like nothing happened, like she didn’t run away from him in near tears. 

Like they didn’t….like they didn’t almost have a moment.

He’s stayed true to his word in that he’s met her every day after work in the week that’s passed. And while the first day was awkward, mostly on her part, they’ve fallen back in that same confusing yet peaceful space. 

Confusing yet peaceful…that seems to be the theme since the day she said “I do.”

It’s not uncomfortable nor unpreferred over where she came from.

It’s just…..different. 

“Oh—okay.” Solana doesn’t know what else to say but notices that Naomi looks like she has something else to say but is hesitant. “Is—is everything okay?”

That seems to be the door that paves the way for said conversation.  “I’ve been thinking. You’ve come a long way. Like, you’ve really got the basics down, all the defensive positions, even fluidity of movement.” It’s leading up to something, Solana is certain of this, but it also means a lot to her that Naomi believes she’s progressed. Doing well with this or even retaining Naomi’s training is something she never saw for herself. “I want to advance you to learning attacks. Solana’s stomach starts to tighten. “With weapons.”

And there it is.

Solana winces. “Weapons?”

Bayley sighs, joining in to help Naomi present her case. “We wanna teach you how to use knives.” Solana’s stomach tightening quickly morphs into twists and knots. “Hear me out, please. I know….I know that’s gotta be a sensitive thing for you, and I totally understand why, but knife fighting is a really great skill to have, even if just to have one on you at all times and know how to use it if need be.”

“And let’s be honest, Roman isn’t going to let anything happen to you to where you would need it, but still.” Something tells Solana Naomi isn’t wrong about that. That neither woman is wrong in what they’re saying, but just the conversation brings back flashes of that night, the night that left the physical and mental scars she still bears now.

Bayley offers a sympathetic smile. “Just think about it, okay?” Solana can do that. She will do that, just….maybe not right now.

And she doesn’t have to because Roman and the twins suddenly enter the gym space. Solana’s stomach tightens seeing Roman shirtless, a sight that’s happened a couple times now, and each time doesn’t seem to make it any easier on her nerves. If anything, it gets worse.

“Whassup, ladies.” Jey greets, clapping his hands as he asks, “ya’ll ready for tonight?”

“Tonight?” Solana speaks up, not directing her question to anyone in particular, but Bayley is the one to answer. “What—what’s tonight?”

“Night of Champions.” She then goes on to explain. “It’s one of our annual wrestling events. Naomi and I are competing.”

Curious, Solana turns to Roman. “Are you fighting?” 

Jimmy, however, is the one to answer. “Soso, Big Dog don’t do these events no more. Not very often anyway, but he’ll be there.”

“Can I come?” Solana directs her question to Roman, knowing that it will be his call. He eyes her unexpectedly. 

“You want to?”

She nods, referring to the group. “I—I wanna see them fight.”

It also feels like the right thing to do, to support the two women who’ve been nothing but supportive of her since day one. Even Jimmy and Jey with their often inappropriate comments about her body and continuous praise over her cooking abilities. It’s still always been very respectful in a strange sort of way.

Roman steps towards her, and Solana finds that it takes a concentrated effort to keep her eyes on his and to not gaze downward. Him being shirtless before her doesn’t help with the attraction she’s still trying to wrap her head around and navigate. 

He lowers his voice, asking, “you sure?”

She’s confused only for a second when she remembers why he seems to be ensuring this is what she wants. This will be the first time Solana has returned to the Warehouse since Grayson and Austin’s attack, since she caused a whole scene that resulted in the whole damn place being shut down and Roman sending a grim message to all.

For a second, she backs away, retreats from her initial desire. Briefly tells herself that this isn’t what she wants, but that other distant voice in the back of her head, not as present or loud, seems to win the battle this time around.

“Yes,” is the final answer she settles on. “I’ll be fine.”

Roman nods, informing. “We leave at 6:30.”

Solana starts to wonder about what this night could entail when Jey suddenly expresses, “It’s kinda nice outside. I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Get in that aquatic cardio.” 

Jimmy also cosigns this after sharing a quick kiss with Naomi. “Oh shit, yeah, lets’ do it

Roman is instantly annoyed, asking with all of the exasperation. “Don’t ya’ll have a pool at your houses?”

“Yeah, but yours is nicer.” Jimmy answers like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He then looks over at Solana, asking, “you joining us, Soso?”

And that, not the idea of returning to the place where she was almost attacked, is what brings on the heavier anxiety. Once upon a time, Solana loved the pool. Swimming with her mom on hot, summer scorching days used to be some of her favorite memories. Now, those memories are plagued with flashbacks of being held under water, a form of torture implemented by her brother.

“N–no.” Solana catches Roman’s gaze on her, the way his eyes dip to her running her fingers against the sides of her workout pants. “I—ummm—I’m going into work for a little bit today, so I should get ready to go.”

Roman speaks up first, skeptical.  “I didn’t know you were going in today.”

“I have to take care of something.”

Solana being vague is new, it’s unfamiliar, and it doesn’t feel the best to lie to him in a sense. Even if it’s less a lie and more a vague answer. 

There is something she needs to take care of. She just has no desire or even ability to tell him just what she needs to take care of, because that would mean she has to tell him the why, and that is something she’s never discussed with anyone and has no desire ever to.

________

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I haven’t written you as much. Life has been….very confusing and different, but not bad. I think….I think I like living here.

I like Bayley and Naomi. They’re so nice to me. I think you would like them too. Bayley is Mexican, so we talk in Spanish sometimes, and I love that because it reminds me of us, mama, all our conversations and writings.

Jimmy and Jey, Roman’s cousins, make me laugh. They’re also nice to me, and they really like my cooking, your cooking. I still use a lot of the recipes you taught me.

I finally have a dog, mami! Her name is Dulce. She’s so sweet and little and adorable. Roman got her for me. 

Roman…

He’s not what I expected. I don’t….I don’t understand why he’s nice to me. Cause that’s what it is. That much I’ve finally realized. He’s….nice to me. 

I’ve never had a man be nice to me. 

We had….something happen a week ago. I still don’t really know how to describe it, just that he was touching me, not even inappropriately. And I think…..I think I liked it, but then I got scared because it was like….it was like it wasn’t him touching me. It was them. 

And I….I hate that. I hate it because it’s miserable feeling this way. Wanting something but not wanting it. Being scared of something but wanting it. Desiring to be close to someone but not wanting that either.

I feel so torn sometimes. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about that book the detective gave me after it happened. There’s gotta be a reason I kept it all these years. I think….I think I want to read it.

I don’t know what to expect, and I’m nervous because I don’t like thinking about it, but I can’t, I don’t, want to keep living like this.

I can’t.

________

When Solana asked to attend Night of Champions, she was thinking it would be similar to WarGames. A foolish assumption. It is in the sense that the arena area is packed, not a single seat unoccupied, the boisterous sound of loud chatter and music serving as a backdrop against said chatter. That’s all the same and unchanged.

What is different and what Solana should have thought about was the fact that the two women who made her feel so comfortable last time won’t be there this time, because they’re competing. And so are the twins. 

And Nicki is apparently upset with Jey—a recurrent theme, it seems—so she also won’t be present.

That leaves one person.

Roman.

Solana didn’t think about the fact that she’d be seated with Roman. It’s not as nerve-racking as it could be, as it probably would have been almost three months ago when this whole new, unexpected chapter of her life began. 

But, it’s still a bit anxiety inducing.

She doesn’t miss how Roman’s grip on her hand remains firm on hers from the moment he helps her out the SUV, his eyes again taking her in the same way he did when she met him back in his office to tell him she was ready to go.

Solana initially felt unsure of herself given the fact that Naomi and Bayley could only pick out her outfit, shoes, and accessories for the night but couldn’t actually help her get ready given the fact that they were competing. Solana struggled to navigate her hair, as always, pinning it up on her head, and her makeup definitely isn’t as nice as the night of WarGames, but it mostly covers up her facial scar, and that’s all that matters.

Still, she must not look completely awful because Roman did not hesitate to give her a slow one over followed by a muttered “damn” and more vocalized, “fuck, you look good.”

She’s starting to lose count of how many times he’s said that now, and each new occurrence still gives her the same butterflies as the first time.

Roman escorts them to their seats, the twins and Paul already being present. Jimmy is the first to speak, whistling loudly.

“Damn, Soso. How we supposed to fight and you distracting us looking all fine and shit?”

“If you want to live and make it to the actual fight, you’ll shut the fuck up.” It’s hard for Solana to tell just when Roman is being completely honest with his cousins or just deadly honest with his cousins. 

This is one of those moments. 

“Thank you.” She doesn’t know what else to say, what kind of response is appropriate to something that isn’t as so.

Roman then motions for Solana to sit down and easily props his big body down in the seat right next to her. Their arms are nearly touching, but she tries not to think of that. Tries to distract herself by asking the twins, “shouldn’t you be in the locker room?”

“Naw, we fight toward the end of the night, so we like to assess with Roman till then.”

“Assess?”

While Jey was the one to provide the initial answer, Jimmy handles the clarification. “You gon be a member of the Warehouse, you gotta earn that shit. That means doing your thing in the ring. You ain’t cutting it, you out.”

Solana nods, quietly. It makes sense. Roman seems like a man with high standards. “So…you all have the final say?”

Jimmy takes a sip of his beer, shaking and nodding his head toward his cousin. “Naw, that’s all Big Dog.”

Solana glances at her husband who’s focused not necessarily on the conversation at hand but the preparation for what’s sure to be an eventful night. 

“If you don’t mind, My Tribal Chief is trying to focus here.” Paul’s voice, equally nice as it is nasty, reminds her of his presence. For some reason, she’s surprised by said presence, though she shouldn’t be. It’s clear the Wise Man is an important asset to Roman. 

“Whassup, my dogs!”

Just then a lanky man comes over to the group. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that says ‘honorary uce’ and has wild red hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in weeks. Solana takes a second to look at him, finding him strangely familiar. It’s then she realizes that he fought with Roman, Solo, and the twins during WarGames.

He goes for some kind of special handshake with Jimmy, then Jey, and finally Roman who looks like he’s contemplating murder rather than wanting to return the greeting. He quickly plays it off, “that is well—okay my tribal chief, and—wow—” Him turning to Solana, finally noticing and acknowledging her, is an experience for the both of them. She notices his initial gaze sets on her chest which is uncomfortable but not entirely unexpected given the style of her dress. Still, she shifts in her seat, uneasy with the attention. “Those are—-ummm—” His eyes go wide, as he moves to backtrack on an obvious Freudian slip. “I mean, it’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am, or Mrs. Reigns, or your highness. Whichever you prefer is a-okay with—“

“Sami.”

His shoulders hunch and head drops in shame, like he already knows what’s coming. “Yes, Tribal Chief?”

“Go sit somewhere else.”

This Sami person doesn’t even hesitate, confirming he already knew he fucked up in the less than five minutes he was present. “Yes, my Tribal Chief.”

Solana watches, still partially confused but also kind of amused as he wastes no time in departing. 

Paul then leans over, chatting away, “I told you, my Tribal Chief, I never liked Shmuel. He’s always been so beneath you. I understand he makes easy collateral, but—“

Roman sighs loudly. “Wise Man.”

“Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Go join Sami.”

“But……” Solana looks over at Paul. His expression is one of devastation, like he’s just been told he had six months to live. “I—I always sit with you for Night of Champ—“

“Wise Man.”

Paul swallows. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“I’m not gon tell you again.” Roman finally looks over at his closest advisor, forcefully enunciating and instructing, “go.”

Similar to Sami, the Wise Man walks off with his tail between his legs, leaving just Solana, Roman, and the twins. 

She has no idea where Solo is. 

“See, now you ain’t even have to do all that, Big Dog. You be getting yourself all upset over nothing. You need to start doing some deep breathing or shit, then maybe you could get off them high blood pressure pills.” 

It’s that last part that Solana zones in on, that makes her turn to Roman, “you have high blood pressure?”

He lifts his eyes, dismissing, “it’s nothing.”

“Can’t—can’t that be dangerous?” It’s not necessarily a question she needs him to answer. Solana is well read on a variety of subjects, especially subjects pertaining to physical health. High blood pressure can mess with a lot of things, a lot of organs. Eyes. Brain.

Heart

Jimmy is the one to chime in, asking with that typical tone of humor. “Soso, you do know what he does for a living right?”

But, it’s hard for her to find said humor when all she’s thinking about now is how certain meals she’s prepared for him could maybe not be the best for his high blood pressure. How she could be exacerbating that.

Feeling pressured by her inner monologue, she offers, “I can change how I cook for you.” And she can. She probably will, making a mental note to peruse through her mom’s recipe books that would be more aligned with the type of diet he probably needs. “I know there’s certain things you probably shouldn’t eat—”

“Solana.” He interrupts, but it’s not with that same irritation he had towards Sami and Paul. “I’m fine. My numbers weren't that bad. The doctor is just being over cautious.”

She wants to believe him, wants to not be as…bothered by this as she is, but something tells her Roman isn’t unlike most men who downplay these sorts of things.

Letting the conversation go, her determination to help him maintain his health remains. 

The conversation shifts to a dialogue between the twins and Roman, the three men conversing in Samoan. She doesn’t mind this, as it also allows her the space to catch the gaze of Bayley and Naomi who look freaking amazing in their gear.

“Soso.”

“I swear to God, if you call her that one more fucking time—”

Jey, possibly foolishly, waves off Roman’s threat. “You understand Yeet, right?”

Blinking twice, she asks, “what?”

“Yeet,” Jimmy says it too, like it’s as basic a word as they come. “Our motto.”

“I—” Honesty is a bit easier with her husband’s cousins. “N–no.”

“Man,” Jey makes a sound with his teeth and jumps right into the explanation. “It’s like a way of life. Like, you yeet when life going good—”

“—when life going bad.”

“—or when you leaving.”

“—or going.”

“It’s a way of life.”

Jimmy and Jey playing off of each other for their presentation is entertaining, at best, but it doesn’t leave her any less confused than she was just a minute ago.

“I—I still don’t get it.”

And that, for the first time, is when Solana hears Roman laugh. It’s not something she ever thought possible, but it’s there, his handsome face turned into an amusing expression as he expresses vindication. “I told you it was fucking stupid.”

“See, I thought we was close, Soso. I thought we was becoming family and shit, but I see you a hater like your husband.”

At that, Jey punches his brother on the arm, reminding with a rough mutter, “man, she be cooking, don’t be fucking up our good thing.”

“Aww shit.” Jimmy quickly moves to backtrack. “I mean, I could see your point.”

Conversation continues as such until the start of the night, Solana watching as the three men around her easily shift into an almost business mode. Their gazes are almost intense, watching closely as matches begin.

Solana partially expected to have to sit and remain quiet for the evening, but certain moves, similar to what Naomi and Bayley have taught her, catch her attention. And it must show, because Solana finds herself occasionally being asked by Roman if she has any questions or if she understands why a fighter did a certain mood.

Some she can answer. Some she cannot. 

So she asks him.

And he answers all of them, clearly, concisely, in a way she can understand.

If Roman is irritated by any of her questions, he does a damn good job not showing as such. And to her credit, she does her best to take a guess vs asking outright with certain things, pulling from her time with Bayley and Naomi. 

And in certain matches, she’s fully immersed in watching their expertise that questions aren’t even a thing. Like the tag team match between two of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, Jade and Bianca, as Roman called them. Same with Naomi and Bayley who independently show her a side of their ruthlessness she figured existed but hadn’t seen firsthand until tonight.

“Do you all learn how to fight when you’re kids?”

“More or less,” Roman answers, and Solana has a hard time not staring, not being caught up by how handsome this man really is. “This life….it’s kill or be killed. So to not be killed, you learn how to fight. How to survive.”

Survive…

Solana has such a complicated relationship with that otherwise simple word. 

“How come….how come you don’t fight as much?” She’s wondered about this, come up with speculation but would like to know for certain, especially as he seems to be in a relatively decent mood.

Like most things, he keeps his answer nice, simple, and vague. “I don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”

“Did–did you?” He looks over at her, and warmth rises back as she tries to clarify. “At some point, I mean.”

Again, it’s a one-worded response. “Yes.”

She’s not entirely sure just what he’s saying ‘yes’ to, but a full blown out explanation was never expected. He doesn’t seem like the type. But something more would have been….nice. Granted, Solana realizes she’s probably pushing her luck in asking all these questions anyway and sits back in her seat, relegating herself to focusing on the current match.

The chill of the arena makes its reminder yet again as Solana crosses her arms over her body, trying to warm herself. The man beside herself notices this, accurately assessing, “you’re cold.”

True to her nature, Solana shakes her head, downplaying the fact that she is very much cold. “I’m fine.”

Downplaying or being outright dishonest is clearly something Solana would do well to push away, because it seems like this man is capable of seeing right through any and all lies.

Roman shifts forward in his seat and removes his jacket, reaching it to her. “Here.”

Rejection would be rude. It would also make her feel even more bad than she already does at inconveniencing him. Still, her options are really singular, meaning there are no others. Only one.

Mustering a small smile, she accepts his objectively kind gesture, sliding her arms through and adjusting as best she can given their size difference. Warmth overcomes her as well as the scent of his collage, something masculine, almost minty. It fits him.

Silence befalls them for a comfortable while before Solana excuses herself to use the bathroom, Roman only nodding in acknowledgment. 

It’s in walking down the hall that Solana sees Jade and Bianca chatting away, admiring their championship belts. The taller of the two, Jade, happens to glance her way and smiles, exclaiming, “Girl, you are wearing the hell out of that dress!”

“Absolutely killing it,” Bianca also compliments, her smile just as genuine and affable. 

Solana is certain she’s just staring dumbly for a good couple of seconds, because such a compliment from two objectively stunning women towards her was the last thing she expected. 

Descending off her shock, she offers an equally genuine smile and expression of appreciation. “Thank you so much.”

The compliment keeps that smile planted on her face. It’s so unexpected but deeply appreciated.  

Solana dries her hands and tosses the used paper towels in the trash. It’s a brief glance at herself in the mirror that serves as the start of the slippery slope, landing her back in a brief state of uncertainty. The dress is so revealing, much more revealing than anything she could or would ever wear. But it’s hard to think or sit too much in that discomfort when the night has consisted of several compliments. Sami, Jimmy, Jey, now Bianca and Jade. Not to mention the biggest one, or maybe the one that gives her the most butterflies, coming from Roman. 

“Fuck, you look good.”

Her smile shifts from something more silly to something a bit more bashful, her cheeks warming at someone as handsome and powerful as Roman Reigns thinking that she looks good.

Thinking that she’s beautiful.

A toilet flushes from the only other taken stall, and the door opening reveals the perfect reason why Solana should have just went straight back to join Roman instead of having a mental discourse in the bathroom.

Samantha’s long, shapely legs are the first thing Solana notices along with the way her dress melts to her toned, curvy body. She looks good, and she has to know that she looks good. A woman like her probably has men lined up by the dozen, Roman being at the front of that line. 

Samantha’s dark lips form into a smirk as she walks over to the sink. “Surprised to see you tonight.” She moves to wash her hands. “After that not so little incident a while back, I figured that was the last day you’d step foot in here.”

Solana swallows. She’s managed to not think about that day since it happened. Samantha bringing it up is definitely salt on an open wound. “I—umm.”

“Nice dress. A lil snug though. Maybe go up a size next time?” Her voice, so sweet and sugary, is also venomous and knowing. “Or two.”

Solana’s hands naturally move to her stomach, forearms trying to block the part of her body she hates the most and is certain Samantha is primarily referring to.

“Sage, right?” She doesn’t give Solana a chance to respond. “Let me give you some advice. Woman to woman.”

Something tells Solana she’s not going to like this advice. 

Samantha dries her hands and walks up to Solana. “I know you’re Roman’s wife, but you can’t seriously think that means anything to him, right? It’s just a title, and he’ll defend you only because it’s defending his pride.” Solana tries to not put too much into Samantha’s hurtful words, but it’s hard not to when Solana knows Roman continues to be intimate with this woman, even after their marriage. She can’t blame him for that, though, especially since he’s definitely not getting it from her. Still, it does sting a bit. “Trust me, I’ve known him very well since we were in high school.” Samantha smirks, chuckling. “So, I would know.”

“Bitch, you don’t know shit.”

The last voice Solana expected to enter the conversation was that of Nia’s. But sure enough, Roman’s’ cousin stands near the bathroom door, arms crossed over her body. 

Samantha’s expression sours tremendously as she icily greets the other woman, bigger, stronger, maybe even prettier. “Nia.”

Nia ignores the greeting and comes to stand near Solana, immediately going in on the slender women. “If you know him so well and you supposedly mean that much to him, how come it’s not you with a wedding ring on your finger?” Solana says nothing, keeping her gaze down, but it doesn’t stop her from also thinking about that very valid question. Just why didn’t Roman marry Samantha? “Or better yet,” Solana glancing back up allows her to see Nia’s cruel smile. “Why is it Solana’s name he said when he was fucking you?”

What?

Solana is visibly shaken by that because where in the hell did that even come from? There’s no way that can be true. No way Roman could be in bed with someone like Samantha and say her name. 

But Samantha is visibly disturbed, lip almost curling into an almost snarl as she spits, “fuck you, Nia.”

“I’d call you Solana too, so I don’t think you’d want that.”

Samantha storms out of the bathroom without another word leaving Solana alone with Nia, Solana who is still trying to process what was just said and finds herself asking Nia. 

“Is—is that true? Did you—did you really hear about Roman—ummm—”

Typically, Solana would keep her questions in the safety of her mind, but this…..this feels almost impossible to not seek clarification on. 

“You know he’s my cousin, right?” Nia looks visibly disgusted but still answers her question. “I would never make something up like that about family. Samantha is a blabber mouth that doesn’t realize she shares her shit with that dumbass best friend of hers, Tiffy, and the whole town knows.”

The answer is appreciated, but it still leaves Solana with so many questions. 

“I—I don’t understand.” Again, it’s something meant to stay inside but manages to slip past the cracks. 

“God, you are naive.” Nia rolls her eyes and explains while crossing her arms. “Sweetie, if a man is balls deep in Woman A and says Woman B’s name, Woman A is not who he wants.” 

That seems almost inconceivable to Solana. For Roman to think she looks good and maybe even consider her beautiful is one thing, but for him to desire her in that way is something entirely different.

She doesn’t know what to do with this information.

“Don’t let that skinny bitch get to you.” Nia seems eager to switch the conversation to something different. “She’s a pussy. All bark and no bite. Remember, you have the ring on your finger. You just have to put her in her place one good time, and she’ll leave you be. And if not, let Roman know. He’d never hurt or kill her himself, but he’d definitely ask me to, and truth be told, I’ve wanted to snap that bitch’s neck since high school, so you’d be doing everyone a favor.”

Solana can’t allow herself, or maybe more so doesn’t have the capacity, to think about that right now. She’s still trying to get a grip on chapter one. Still, she offers a quiet ‘thank you’ to Nia, turning to leave when the taller woman says her name. Solana turns back around. “Yes?”

Nia sighs and rolls her eyes. “I know you think I hate you, but I don’t. I may hate how soft you are, but I don’t hate you.” Nia then smirks with an almost playful add on of, “I don’t care enough about you to hate you.”

________

As expected, Roman is immediately asking what took so long the second Solana is back in her seat. 

Her excuse is weak. She tells him that there was a line, but it’s the best thing she can come up with on the spot. His expression is all the answer she needs that he certainly doesn’t believe her but will let it go.

For now. 

The rest of the night seems to be more of a blur, Solana now more consumed with trying to wrap her head around this newest bit of information. 

The twins end up finishing off the event with a brutal but successful match where they, as expected, retain their tag team titles.  

Solana could see this, understandably, pleased Roman. 

And outside of some constructive criticism towards Jey and Jimmy, Roman expressed his desire to leave as soon as they got cleaned up, which took less time than she expected. He’s guiding them, her, out to leave, her hand still in his, when a thickly accented voice calls the attention of the man beside her. 

“Roman Reigns.”

Solana can barely turn around to the source of the voice when Roman’s muscled arm is stretched across her body, moving her behind him, his big body serving as an impenetrable shield.

Because of their height difference, Solana can’t see a whole lot outside of the instant shift of security and even the twins toward whoever this person is. 

“How wonderful for you to bless us with your presence so soon after WarGames.” The man scoffs, clearly trying to bait Roman. “What is this, the second appearance in how many years? Hell hath fuckin’ froze over.”

Solana catches a brief glance of the mystery man and gasps. He has an imposing figure, similar to Roman but there’s something cold about him, something….sinister. 

“How dare you acknowledge the Tribal Chief—” Roman lifts his hand to silence Paul. 

Roman simply states, “talk.” 

“You know what I want, Reigns.” Solana hears a footstep and notices how Roman makes a subtle movement that results in the twins also moving closer towards her, shielding her from this man. “You don’t deserve that title. You may have been a fighter then, but you ain’t now. You’re about the Bloodline, and I respect that, mate, but the Undisputed title deserves to be with someone who defends it more than once a fucking year.”

“So what, you think you the one who gon’ take it? Man, we outta kill your ass right now for talking out your neck like that to our Tribal Chief!”

Solana hates being unable to see Roman, to see his face, to be able to gauge and read his facial expressions. He’s an enigma of a man, typically oscillating between irritated, angry, and indifferent, but not having the option altogether to know where he currently lands is bothersome.  Especially with what comes out of his mouth next.

“Do something.”

Solana freezes. That….that can’t be good.

“You standing up on me. You make a good tough guy face. Do something.”

Solana’s fingers tap against her side, that familiar knotting in her stomach returning. She glances over at Jey who seems to also be a bit confused by Roman’s response.

“Uce—”

Roman ignores him. “Go on. Pull it.”

Jimmy speaks up this time, rough voice quiet but urgent. “Roman, we got Solana here—”

“Come on. Make it happen. What’s different? Ain’t nothing changed. Think back to the last time you challenged me.” Solana hates when Roman moves away from her, because it means he’s a step closer to this man, this man who seems determined to pick a fight with the Tribal Chief and may get just that. “Think about it. I whooped you then. I’ll whoop you now.” Roman speaks with such a confidence about him, the most violent, straightforward promise of sure brutality she’s ever heard from a man. “Ain’t nothing changed.”

Solana isn’t necessarily thinking about what she’s doing when she suddenly moves herself in between Roman and this man who’s apparently hellbent on getting her husband riled up. It’s another unconscious act as she plants her palms against his chest, both relieved and nervous by how his gaze instantly drops to hers.

Solana licks her lips and finds herself pleading in an unexpectedly calm yet typically soft voice. “Let’s just go.” His initial expression of fury and simmering anger seems to lessen the longer he looks at her, and Solana adds on, desperately. “Please.”

This act of boldness is completely unplanned and entirely stems from Solana unable to stop thinking about how Roman being so upset all the time can’t be good for his blood pressure. It can’t be good for his health. 

And for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, that bothers her. It concerns her. 

Him not being healthy concerns her.

What does not surprisingly concern her is when Roman moves his hands down to her hips and almost gently moves her to the side, forcing her hands to drop. She expects him to lunge at the other man or to scold her for interfering, but he does neither.

He steps toward him and simply states with all the coldness, “you’ve got your match, but I set the date when I want it.” Solana’s more or less holding her breath, waiting for Roman to strike the man, or worse. “But know this, McIntyre, you step in that ring with me again, I’m not just ending your career this time, I’m ending your fucking life.”

Roman’s threat sends uneasy chills down her spine. There’s no mistaking Roman’s promise, something she’s certain he will be sure to fulfill.

He then takes her hand again and moves her to the side opposite of the man who looks like he hates Roman as much as Roman probably hates him. Solana is almost entirely eclipsed by Roman’s big body as he walks her past the ordeal.

The car ride is a bit uncomfortably silent, Solana recognizing that Roman is still seething from the exchange but most likely waiting until she’s out of his vicinity to express that rage. 

But, it's when she’s walking back in the house after letting Dulce do her business that Roman catches and speaks to her. 

“Solana.” He’s leaning back against the counter, big arms crossed over his muscular body. He’s so….big. “What happened when you went to the bathroom tonight?”

She can’t be surprised, can’t feel caught off guard by his question. It’s still not something she necessarily wants to talk about or knows how to discuss, but she’ll do the best she can. 

“I ran into Samantha.” Taking a deep breath, she tries her hardest to keep it vague but still an acceptable answer. “I don’t—I don’t think she likes me.”

At that, Roman nearly growls, “what did that bitch say to you?”

Solana winces at his tone. “It wasn’t that bad…”

He’s quick with the dismissal and redirection. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“She just—she just talked about my outfit, that—that was it, because Nia came in there, and well, I don’t—I think Nia might hate her more than she hates me.”

Roman sighs, running his hand over his face. “I’ll handle Samantha.” Before Solana can protest, he adds, “Nia doesn’t hate you.”

This brings a small smile to Solana’s face. “That's what she said.”

Roman also looks slightly amused by this, studying her for a second. “Solana.” The surprises keep on coming, because he takes an unexpected turn in the conversation. “I almost lost my temper tonight.”

This….this feels true. His issuance of threats were delivered in an almost calm manner, but it was more deceptive than anything. Like a setup for violence that was potentially about to unfold if she didn’t interfere.

Still, nothing ended up happening, so it doesn’t make sense for him to act like it did.

“But, you didn’t,” she points out quietly, offering a bit of an olive branch. “And….you were upset.” 

Solana would maybe argue that he’s always in varying states of upsetness, but that’s not the point of the conversation at hand. 

“I have no shortage of enemies, Solana.” His voice takes on a darker, almost subdued tone. It makes her previously amused expression slip into something more somber. “But, I need you to know that I would never do anything that would put you in danger. Drew wanted to issue his challenge. That’s it. He wasn’t going to do anything, because he wants an audience for that. I had it under control.” Solana isn’t questioning that nor did she plan to, but Roman’s next question definitely takes her for a loop. “Were you scared?”

It’s a valid, understandable question that she didn’t think about until this moment. There was anxiety, maybe some element of fear but also concern, so she decides to play down the first two. 

“I wasn’t scared.” It was more concern than fear, which, in her mind, are two different things. “Just….confused about what was happening.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His dismissal is nicer than what anyone else would receive. “Of me, Solana. Were you scared of me?”

Another valid question that she’s actually been thinking about on and off for the past few weeks. Solana would like to consider herself not naive to a lot of things about this life that she was born into. She knows that most of the people who surround her are killers. And Roman is no different. The king of that, maybe.

But…..

But, he’s done nothing thus far to make her ever believe she would ever be subjected to that side of him. If anything, he’s worked to stress and help her understand that she’d never be hurt by him. And adding up all of the things he’s done to support said message, Solana feels it only appropriate to be honest with him. 

About more than just his question.

“When—-when the twins asked earlier today if I wanted to go in the pool, I got nervous because—-” Solana displays her textbook signs of discomfort with the stammering and playing with her fingers but still manages to get out what she wants to share. “Wes, he used to…..hold my head under water until I almost passed out.” Solana looks away for a second, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “That……that’s who I’m afraid of.” Solana manages to set her gaze back on Roman, almost confidently assuring, “I’m not scared of you, Roman.”

He steps toward her, and Solana’s eyes never leave his, mindful of the way his hand lifts, tensing when he rests it against her face, palming her cheek almost gently. Solana stiffens but easily shifts into something not calm but not on edge either. “You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, of anyone. I won’t let anyone else ever hurt you again.”

And for the first time, she believes him without the speck of doubt and uncertainty in the backseat. Solana has seen nothing from the man before her to indicate otherwise. She doesn’t know a lot of things regarding him, regarding them, regarding just why he’s so hellbent on defending her, but one thing she’s realized is that he’s intentional and determined with his dedication to protect her.

This is similar, very similar, too similar to that night where her fears got the best of her, where she was unable to overpower the discomfort and fear. But, this isn’t that night, and Solana doesn’t feel that building dread in the core of her stomach. It could be the fact that it’s only one hand on her, cupping her face. Nowhere else.

It could even be a very early sign that maybe, just maybe, that book she was given so long ago really does have the healing properties someone from so long ago once promised. 

There’s even her conversation with Nia from earlier that sits in the back of her mind, the undeniable confirmation of Roman’s attraction to her. Enough to where he would say her name during that.

Whatever the case, she doesn’t move away, just nods quietly, slowly moving away from him. 

“I’m—I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

Roman says nothing, also nodding as acknowledgment, watching as Solana grabs Dulce and disappears out of his sight but not the front of his mind.

________

The Reigns estate is as spacious as it is grandiose. There are several ways and paths to reach a destination. 

So, Roman doesn’t have to pass Solana’s room to reach his bedroom. There’s an alternative route in coming from where he was working, but he decides this specific way for reasons he’s not entirely sure of.

It ends up being a good decision because it’s in walking past her door that he hears low scraping against said door. Instantly, he knows it’s Dulce clearly needing to go outside. And she confirms as such with her soft whimpering. 

Rolling his eyes, Roman opens the door just enough for Dulce to run out, stopping when she sees it’s him. He glances at the bed to see Solana sleeping, open book on her chest, indicating she fell asleep while reading.

Dulce whines again, and he chides quietly, “be quiet before you wake her up.”

Dulce’s ears go down as Roman picks up the puppy that’s still too little to walk up and down the steps, hence needing human transportation. It’s annoying, but he brings her down the steps and out the backyard. 

Settling her down, he instructs, “go on. Do whatever you gotta do.”

He’ll give the dog some credit where credit is due. She’s far more obedient than he expected for a puppy, because in less than 10 minutes, she’s emptied her bladder and is being carried back to Solana’s room. 

Roman is careful to lay her little ass back in her bed, aware of her bristle looking legs that would probably break with one bad drop. 

Rising back to his full height, he catches Solana turning on her side, the shift in position causing the book to slip and almost fall out the bed, but Roman is fast, catching it before the crash and potential disturbance can wake her up.

Naturally, he glances at the front cover, noticing the age of the book. But the aging look doesn’t mean shit to him when he sees the title and a piece of paper that clearly has Solana’s handwriting. He doesn’t read that, wanting to respect her privacy, but he definitely reads the title, and it instantly shifts his entire mood. 

The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse

It shifts his mood from his default state or irritation to quiet rage. 

There’s only one reason she would be reading this book, working out of this book. And it’s not that he didn’t already know she’d been violated in one way or another. Her medical records confirmed as such.

But, he was thinking she was a teenager, not any better, but definitely not a fucking child.

Someone hurt her when she was still a child, a literal goddamn kid, and this is something Roman cannot find it in him to avoid investigating. He’s always been a man uncomfortable with unanswered questions, and there are no shortage of them in regards to Solana. Not that he would ever put her in a position to answer them. No. He wouldn’t do that to her, would never make her share something like that with him.

But, he does know someone else he can demand answers from. 

Two people, actually. One of them being shit out of luck after narrowly avoiding Roman’s wrath from earlier today in learning that he fucking tortured Solana.

Roman carefully places the book on her nightstand and makes sure Dulce is still in her bed on the other side of Solana’s before quietly closing the door.

Roman is down the hall, powerful strides taking him to his room as he pulls out his phone, dialing the one person he knows for a fact will answer his call at any time. Hitting dial and switching it to speaker, Roman tosses his phone on the bed to get dressed. 

Sure enough, he answers on the second ring.

Roman jumps right into it. “Meet me at the Miller house. Get your brothers.”

Solo only pauses for a second, answering in that stoic voice, “we’ll be there in 30.”

Not good enough. 

“Make it 20.” 

________

As expected, Roman is met at the Miller house by his cousins, all three.

Slamming the car door shut, Roman hears Jimmy yawning loudly. “Man, why the hell is we here?”

Ignoring his older brother, Solo straightens his stance and informs, “I had Pearce disable the security system.”

“Good.” It’s the fact that Solo already knew to do so without being told. Moments like this is when Roman knows he made the right decision promoting and moving Solo up the ranks. He’s more than proved himself.

“I have questions. Miller has answers.” Roman’s answer there is intentionally vague. Solana’s trauma is no one’s business but her own, and just because he is also aware doesn’t mean he needs to broadcast it. “And Solana told me today her brother used to waterboard her.”

“Waterboarding? Like actual fucking torture?” This information seems to awaken both the twins, eliciting angry reactions. “What the fuck is wrong with his ass?”

“We killing them, right?” Jey, forever the hothead and also relatively equal with Roman in terms of how quickly he travels from zero to one-hundred, is the first to ask the most obvious question.

“No. Not tonight. That would be too easy.” And it would. Roman meant that shit when he said he wanted their asses to suffer. “But that doesn’t mean we have to make living easy for them.”

They don’t deserve to live, let alone living easy lives. Not when they’ve done everything seemingly possible to make Solana’s miserable.

Roman then looks towards the twins, instructing, “take care of the brother.” It’s not a necessary directive, but he doesn’t hesitate to add, “make him fucking suffer.”

He then motions for Solo to follow him, the men headed toward the house as Roman swears out loud, “Xavier is mine.” 

Roman steps back as Solo waits zero time in shattering the large window in the living room, providing an entrance for the men. Roman grabs his gun, nodding for the twins to move first, followed by Solo, each man armed with a gun. It’s unnecessary, Roman is certain as they’re more likely to find father and son in the midst of illicit acts vs prepared for the onslaught headed their way. 

Up the stairs and on the second floor, Roman quietly motions for them to split up, Solo and the twins to the right while he moves to the left, the most likely location of the master.

Solo seems to give him an uneasy expression, but Roman simply nods and heads toward his target.

Xavier is his.

The combination of the brothers works just as Roman predicted, them successfully locating the brother’s bedroom, confirmed by his horrified shout of ‘what the fuck! 

It’s followed up with a shout of pain and Jey yelling “Get your bitch ass up!” and “Solo, fill up the tub!”

Pleased, Roman is standing directly outside of Xavier’s door when the older man rips the door open, face contorted in a mixture of shock and anger. That quickly morphs into fear when he realizes just who is responsible for this attack. 

Roman brings the gun across upside Miller’s head, watching the man fall down and writhe in pain, holding his hand against his now bleeding head. 

Undeterred, Roman reaches down, yanking the man up by his neck as he jolts his body against the nearest wall. “We need to talk.” Straight to the point and not in the mood for any bullshit this fucker may try to spew his way, Roman demands,  “I want to know what the fuck happened to my wife.”

And there’s a brief but telltale sign that Xavier knows exactly what he’s referring to without Roman even needing to elaborate. 

That only pisses him off even more. 

Still, Xavier stutters, shaking his head, “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Roman gives a bitter smile, shaking his head and scratching his beard. It’s the last thing he’s certain Xavier sees before Roman again has him up by the collar of his pajama shirt. 

“You really want to play these fucking games with me?” It’s a no. It’s a hell no, but Xavier insulting Roman’s intelligence by lying to him indicates the opposite of no. So, Roman will treat him as such. “Who the fuck touched Solana?”

His question is followed up by screaming coming from down the hall, the beautiful sound of a piece of shit getting exactly what he deserves. 

“What? Ain’t so tough now, little bitch! Like to beat on women but a pussy when it comes to fighting another man!”

And while it could bring a smile to Roman’s face, Xavier looks horrified in hearing Jimmy’s taunts. Instantly, he’s pleading, pathetic and pitiful, “pl—please.”

“I’d torture and kill that bitch right in front of you tonight if I could.” It pisses Roman off to no end how this man can care so much about his demented son but not give a flying fuck about his innocent daughter. “Now, answer my fucking question, who touched Solana?”

Again, Xavier decides to test Roman’s patience, offering unasked information. “She—she was a virgin before she married you.”

“I don’t give a fuck about her being virgin or not!” She could still be a virgin and have been touched. But truth be told, that shit’s never mattered to him anyway. Virgin or no virgin, it’s always been an irrelevant deciding factor to who he took to bed. “Tell me what happened to her or I’ll blow that bitch son of yours fucking brains out right in front of you—”

Roman pulls the gun from out of the back of his pants, knowing full and well that while he would love to empty the entirety of it in the scum before him, it’s better served torturing him in another sort of manner.

Mentally.

And it does the trick.

“Alright, alright!” Xavier finally caves, sweat bubbling across his wrinkled forehead. “She was raped, alright? Two men broke into the house when she was 12 and attacked her. Beat her real bad. They—they never found them. Okay? That—that’s the truth. That’s what happened.”

No. Not fucking okay. Nothing is fucking okay. Roman wanted answers, felt like he needed them, but knowing the truth, it doesn’t do shit but paint his vision red. 

He knew something happened to her. 

He just didn’t know how bad.

Raped. 

Beaten. 

Twelve.

And then another thought hits him, the absolute terror on her face that day when she was faced with what should be the most simplest thing for a person: going into their childhood bedroom. 

Roman remembers her fear, the dried blood, the scratches on the wall. 

It all makes sense.

She was attacked in her fucking bedroom.

The thought of a child being hurt at all has never sat right with him, but to be hurt in that way. As a child, and for that child to have been Solana. 

He’s fucking breathing rage. 

“Where the fuck were you, huh?” Roman jerks his body back against the wall, half ready to break this fucker’s neck. “Answer me!”

“I wasn’t home!” Xavier’s sweating has progressed into droplets from his forehead onto the bridge of his nose and shirt. “I—I was out on a fishing trip with Wes.”

A fishing trip…..

This man was out enjoying fucking nature with his dimwitted offspring while his daughter was at home alone fighting for her fucking life.

“You left a 12 year old home alone?” It keeps getting fucking worse. “How long was she alone!” Roman is fully prepared to risk snapping this motherfucker’s neck when he spits out a desperate answer.

“A week. It was just a week.” And if it makes a fucking difference, he desperately adds on, “I—I’d done it before, and she was fine.”

Xavier is either stupid or very stupid, because Roman can’t conceptualize how this imbecile would think the additional information makes it any better. 

Solana was hurt.

She was hurt in the worst way possible, and it’s all his fault. 

With all of the aggression in his body, Roman throws the piece of shit across the room, intentionally aiming for the glass coffee table that instantly shatters under the weight of his fat ass.

Without a second of fucking hesitation, Roman fires two shots directly into Xavier’s body, one in his right hand and the other in his left foot. Xavier’s shouts of pain do little to dull the unadulterated rage coursing through Roman’s body.

Shouts morph into tiny, pathetic whimpers as Roman slowly walks through the broken glass, tossing his gun to the side as he pulls out the brass knuckles in his back pocket. 

“I told Solana I wouldn’t kill you until she gave me the word, and I’m not going to take that from her.” He crouches down besides the now crying older man, crying in the way Roman is certain Solana did when she was alone and helpless. His fury is practically bubbling over now as he coldly vows, “but that doesn't mean I can’t make your life a living fucking hell until then.”

________

Roman walks back into the house with a weight he can’t shake, even with the brutal carnage he unleashed on the Miller household, leaving father and son on the brink of death. That type of violent release typically abates his anger, and it did diminish a lot of it, seeing that piece of shit pummeled into a bloody, broken mess.

But Roman is still plagued with thoughts of the hell Solana endured living in that household. To be attacked in that way in her own home, in her fucking bedroom, it makes Roman want to get right back in his SUV and carry Xavier and his equally piece of shit over the doorstep of death.

But, he couldn’t do that to Solana, take that away from her. He’s just the executioner in this situation. He’ll let the day of reckoning be determined by her because that’s the least she can get. 

Coming straight back home, Roman didn’t bother to stop and get himself cleaned up. His guards have seen much worse, and Solana is asleep, so that’s not a concern either.

But, it is a concern because in an almost scene of deja vu, Solana is most certainly not asleep. She’s sitting on the sofa, Dulce right beside her when she hears his heavy footsteps. 

Roman doesn’t have time to say anything, too stunned by this happening yet again, even later than he’s returned before. 

Why is she up?

Solana jumps up off the sofa and is suddenly standing across from him, her face painted in what’s obviously a moderate to tremendous amount of worry and anxiety. 

But, she isn’t looking at him. Not really. She’s more so focused on the blood stained and splattered clothes that adorn him.

“You’re hurt…..” He’s heard her say it the last two times they were in this type of situation, eerily similar in a lot of ways, but this time….this time is different.

It’s different because she rushes over to him, her hand floating over his chest, one place, two place, another place. Like a plane trying to find a safe space to land, she’s unsure where he’s hurt and clearly overwhelmed by it all.

And then he sees it, the blurry overlay of water over her eyes and the slight tremble of her lip.

Roman steps towards her, trying to be respectful of the distance between them. Her discomfort with touch makes all the sense now. “Please don’t cry.” And this is yet another new, unfamiliar, unexposed territory for him, seeing her so distraught at her belief that he’s been hurt. The way that the thought alone clearly wrecks her.

Roman quickly notices the changing of her breathing pattern, heavier, rhythmic almost. 

“Shit…..”

Roman has heard this song before.

Realizing this is a matter of de-escalation, he does what’s needed in the moment and brings his hands to her face, cupping her face.

“Solana, breathe, baby.” The term of adoration isn’t even something that really registers with him at the moment, not an intentional addictive or something he gives two fucks about in this moment, really. He’s solely focused on settling the woman in front who’s on the brink of a panic attack.

He can’t see her deal with that again, especially now that he knows just why she had the first one.

Roman has no hesitation in pushing away loose strings of her hair, never once taking his focus off her. “I’m fine, Solana. I’m not hurt. It’s not my blood.” Recognizing she clearly needs to see it, he moves back to lift and toss his shirt on the floor. “See?”

And that seems to do something for her, something to help settle the panic. 

Roman watches her and forces himself not to think about the heat that fills him at her hand on his chest, over his heart. It’s all so innocent. Recognizing her breathing has settled into something less alarming and more familiar, he moves his hand over hers, reiterating once more, “I’m fine.” He waits for her to finish taking a deep breath to ask, “why are you up?”

This has to be the third time Roman has come home at an ungodly hour to find her waiting for him, and he’s trying to figure out what the real reason is. 

She licks her lip, clearly working her way up to a response. “Dulce had to…..had to use the bathroom, and I saw you weren’t here, and you didn’t answer my text.” Roman curses himself. He was so caught in his uproar that he didn’t even bother checking that thing, never expecting for Solana to be the missed notification on his lock screen. “I just…..I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Roman has heard this part before and tries to navigate how he wants to push back on his belief that it can’t be just that, but Solana surprisingly beats him to it. “I get….I get worried when you’re not here at night and—-and I can’t sleep until—-”

“Until I’m back….”

He has a good guess why. She was attacked in the middle of the night, and he’s also pretty certain he remembers reading that the attack that killed her mother also happened at night.

“Solana…..” For the first time in a while, if ever, Roman is active in his attempts to explain this to her as gently as he can. “What I do…who I am…I can’t always be here.”

“I know,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to bother you—”

“You could never bother me, okay?” He wipes away more of her tears, hand back to cupping her face, realizing she’s not going to pull away from him this time. He takes full advantage of that. Roman moves his other hand to the small of her back, holding her against him. It’s not missed upon him how she also brings her other free hand to his chest. “But, I always make it back, alright?” She nods, as he runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Can’t no man put me down.”

She smiles, a little laugh that does more to him than he’d like to admit, that he feels comfortable with. And this settles him. It settles him more than nearly killing her dad and brother for hurting her, directly and indirectly, did. 

Solana nods, murmuring a quiet, “o–okay.”

He’s studying her. Closely. Maybe more than what’s necessary. It comes from a place of concern, and he’d admit as such. “Are you good now?” 

She nods again, and he believes it enough to let her go, watching her start to walk away when he’s caught off guard again because of her body, so soft and warm, against his again. Her sweet perfume filling his senses, her arms around his neck.

She’s hugging him. Solana is actually hugging him. He can’t remember the last time someone did that shit.

But he doesn’t waste a second of time accepting her embrace that seems to end just as quickly as it began. He can’t be surprised or upset. This is big for her, obviously, and he would never push her past her comfort zone, but he also can’t deny that the absence of her in his arms is noticeable. 

And uncomfortable.

Solana murmurs a rushed goodnight and grabs Dulce to head back up the stairs, Roman eyes never leaving her until she’s completely out of view.

Roman stands there for a few good minutes, unsure of what just happened, working to process the same unfamiliar feelings that coursed through him the last time they had a moment like this. It’s the same as before, just ten times stronger, more intense, more consuming.

Unsure of a lot, two things he knows for asbolute fucking certain:

He’s going to find Solana’s rapists and make them pay for every sick fucking thing they did to her.

There’s not a fucking force on earth that could take this girl away from him.

She’s his.

And he’ll protect her with everything in him.

No matter what the cost.

[bladekindeyewear]

Hello, what do you think of optimisticDuelist's Role-playing theory? Basically, he suggested that instead of inverting, Rose was role-playing a misinterpretation of her mother's classpect. He also suggests Terezi was role-playing Redglare's Knight class while investigating Murderstuck, and that Vriska and Aranea were role-playing each other's classes. I recommend watching "HSE: Guardians and Ancestors" for more about his theory. :D

Since I'm trying to get back in the swing of things (might still take me a few weeks), I might as well remind y'all of my earlier position:

I haven't read or watched optimisticDuelist's theories yet, and I probably ought to before I make any serious judgments on the matter. Plus, I'm not caught up with HS^2's recent new updates, and I was under the impression that oD had some input into HS^2 as a whole-- I'm not sure if Andrew gave the writers and collaborators on that project the latitude to make some changes from the system that was intended by Andrew in the original comic's run, but I wouldn't be surprised if he had, so for all we know some of those theories may retroactively fit the original comic even if they weren't initially intended! Or introduced as just a NEW thing that can happen! That's one sort of thing that I was originally so devoted to the comic's "original intent" that I wouldn't have accepted easily, but I'm coming to accept as a possibility a bit easier now, with how much Andrew has pushed Death of the Author and how much the ending of the comic showed that many of the things I judged were "important" in-comic weren't important to him at all.

However, if we're looking as far back as Act 5 Act 2, I believe there's a serious fundamental difference in scope and scale between trolls like Vriska and Terezi poorly cosplaying the trappings and aesthetics of ancestors whose classpects we didn't know at the time -- ancestors who were in fact constantly teased with words like Thief (Mindfang), Seer (Redglare), and Witch (Condesce) to match their younger descendants' classes even though Andrew likely intended for them to have had different classes all along -- and the severe, extreme, and powerful event that seems to be full-on hero role inversion.

Reading some Homestuck liveblogs lately, I was reminded of the strong and intentional connections that all of Homestuck has with Carl Jung's psychological theories and the concept of the "Shadow" self. And I'm not just talking about a superficial resemblance between the Shadow and role inversion, or the "assimilation of the shadow" and the uniting of one's Real Self and Dream Self to ascend to God Tier. No-- I mean that Jung's theories, even if somewhat discredited, are referenced by the complex stew of mythologies that make up Sburb and define how the game is played, just like all the pop and serious references to works like Lord Of The Rings that made it into the game's objectives. If you skim that wikipedia page you'll very quickly see what I mean:

Nevertheless, Jung remained of the opinion that while "no one should deny the danger of the descent [...] every descent is followed by an ascent",[54] and assimilation of—rather than possession by—the shadow becomes a possibility.

"We begin to travel [up] through the healing spirals...straight up."[53]: 160–1

There's a good reason that Rose was given an interest in psychotherapy leading into the comic. It's tightly tied to the whole story's themes! Trying to show players the potential they have as individuals, the power inherent in their very personalities, and setting them a stage to confront themselves and grow into someone who would shape the future and accept their own self-worth, is the entire point of the game and the answer to the Ultimate Riddle. Every major character had to go through the arduous process of confronting their flaws and talents and trying to accept who they were. The game IS the psychotheraputic journey from start to finish, complete with the same monumental challenges, pitfalls, rejection and acceptance (of help and of oneself!) that all sorts of different people must confront in order to simultaneously fully appreciate and become themselves, and also become the people they truly want to be. Because despite what self-loathing and toxic gender norms and all sorts of naysayers would have us believe, those two things are closer to the same thing than most can easily imagine. The journey to discover, accept, unite with and leverage the power of being you.

And when you tie Jungian Psychology to MBTI personality types, you can practically flip the letters into an opposed Shadow too, in a less literal but startlingly similar way to the class-and-aspect-flip Inversion Theory that we proposed. (DAMMIT i still need to rewrite the Aradia post to be less pretentious, that's been on my to-do list for years but I've never been up to it...)

Again, I still need to read/watch optimisticDuelist's theories (I've had a hard time emotionally looking deep into anything Homestuck for a good while now, and even though you're referencing some pretty old theories i was NEVER very good at keeping up with others' theories besides what was specifically brought to my attention, it was a serious problem), but from what I recall in-comic every time I saw someone mimic or cosplay an ancestor they were mostly... just cosplaying! Nothing is stopping a Seer from picking up a sword and trying to do some knight stuff. TRYING. The only issue is that they won't be very good at it, because they're not actually learning about themselves and leveraging the strengths of their own personality and power set. I have no idea how to use a gun or weapons; if I were to pick one up and try to suddenly join a battle, I would have no idea what I'm doing and would be more likely to get myself or others hurt rather than do anyone any actual good. And even when someone like Terezi picked up a (cane-)sword in the comic, she still mostly used it as a Seer would, as the threat to punctuate or act on explicitly foreseen possibilities. When she ran Vriska through, she was acting on a VISION borne of the realities that hinged on others' decisions and fronts, that revealed themselves through her understanding the Mind aspect. It was no martial superpower, no mental trick-- all Terezi had was the superpower of understanding how badly Vriska's move to fight Jack would play out, with the necessary certainty she needed in order to confidently stab Vriska.

(Brief edit: as an aside, many classes of Heart player might be more positioned to take on and leverage the skills and uniqueness of others. Roleplaying others was one of NEPETA'S strengths.)

Rose's inversion was very, very, VERY different.

The word "witch" was EVERYWHERE around Rose, almost moreso than the Void symbolism. "Witch" was plastered all over Act 5 Act 2 in both the text and visual representations. Other players like Eridan CALLED her a witch REPEATEDLY. We saw a Witch of Time using dual needles and magic. Andrew couldn't have shouted the word any louder. It came with IMMENSE power, the sort of power level we've deduced (and Doc and Rose hinted) comes from someone's Hero Title because it's more powerful than any other mundane, magical, or psychic power source, fitting to the Ultimate Riddle-- when someone pulls out their Hero Powers against any non-hero power source besides sometimes the Green Sun, the one using Hero Powers always wins. It isn't even a contest.

When Rose went grimdark, she looked like a Witch. She didn't look like her mother. And she didn't act like her mother either! Especially when we got Roxy Lalonde in Act 6, it was clear that Rose's Grimdark actions and modus-operandi were absolutely nothing like those of her ecto-sister, even with all the commonalities they shared as people. Whatever inspiration Rose received from her mother's behavior and aesthetics, all it seems she took from it in her Grimdark descent was the Void, and little else.

If you were to try and convince me that what Rose did in Act 5 Act 2 was meant by the author to convey to us the actions of someone behaving as a Rogue of Void and not a Witch of Void, you wouldn't just need to show me evidence of Roguish activity. You'd need to show me ENOUGH evidence that Andrew meant to hide Rogue behavior beneath an intentional Witch whitewash (like that prior tease with the Troll Ancestors being coyly made to sound like they matched their descendants that I described earlier), and that all the Witch symbology and actions were actually a bullshit red herring!!! Few readers thought there was any serious impact of her Grimdark phase to her Class until we stumbled upon Inversion Theory as an extension of Aspect Duality, and a red herring is pretty pointless if it doesn't convince anyone.

Saying that NONE of those witch hints mattered? THAT'S A REALLY TALL ORDER. "Witch of Void" is just way, way too strongly evidenced in my eyes, and almost half of our derivative understanding of classes and aspects is based on Seer <--> Witch duality! It'll be weeks before I have my mental health together enough to watch optimisticDuelist's theories, but like, Seer <--> Witch is the most confident I still am in any theory besides the Ultimate Riddle and Aspect Duality. It'd take quite a lot to make me believe otherwise, so expecting optimisticDuelist's videos to change my mind on this matter would be... er. A little optimistic.

And because of how dependent so many of my theories were on what we learned about aspect duality FROM role inversion, if Seer <--> Witch didn't happen, then you might as well throw out almost everything I've ever said on classpects with the bathwater and start over. Rightly call me biased, but I do really hope I don't have to do that!

(edit 1pm cdt: added a bit more to the second-to-last paragraph before the cut to hammer home that "Shadow (Psychology)" wikipedia article, seriously so many of the characters' journeys in the comic follow it like a playbook. edit 1:15pm cdt: fixed wandering read-more)

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Gestation 1.6 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

I didn’t want to be seen fleeing the scene of a fight, and risk being labeled one of the bad guys by yet another person,

Ooof. Again I say. Oof.

All this girl wants is a purpose. She tries for that to be hero, and it ends up not working out for her.

If you’d asked me just a few hours ago about how I thought I would feel meeting a big name superhero, I would have used words like excited and giddy.  The reality was that I was almost too exhausted to care.

I do like this touch, both for the character, and because of how it sets the tone for this universe. Who cares who you're meeting? The world's falling apart, and you're fucking tired. Taylor is about to get virtually no rest in the next two years.

When the core group of the top Protectorate members from around Canada and the States assembled in that classic ‘v’ formation for the photo shoots, Armsmaster was one of the guys in the wings.  This was a guy who had his own action figures.  Poseable Armsmaster with interchangeable Halberd parts.

I like how... practical, Worm worldbuilds the existence of superheroes? Like, yes, it's not as if Wildbow invented the superheroes in-universe being commodified like this, but there's something about this phrasing of it here that really works for me in painting the picture.

Stepping closer to me, he tilted his head, “You don’t look like one.” That stung, especially coming from him.  It was like Michael Jordan saying you sucked at basketball.  “That’s… not intentional,” I responded, not a little defensively, “I was more than halfway done putting the costume together when I realized it was already looking more edgy than I’d intended, and I couldn’t do anything about it by then.”

Ooof, Armsmaster. Man. Foot. Mouth.

On the other hand, I think Taylor is just overreacting a bit. It's less 'Michael Jordan saying you suck at basketball' and more 'Michael jordan saying your uniform sucks'. And Armsy isn't exactly wrong, is he?

 I had considered applying to join, but the notion of escaping the stresses of high school by flinging myself into a mess of teenage drama, adult oversight and schedules seemed self-defeating.

You know, one thing I see in the fandom is to what extent Taylor going the villain/Independent route was actually essential. Some people think it was vital, some people seem to think not so much, in the end the same effect could be achieved if she'd joined the Wards...

We'll see what I think when we get that far.

But I do understand the impulse for some fanfics that want to explore some what-ifs to feel like Scion is actually an inhibitor to storytelling freedom. Because whatever AU they write, no matter the changes they explore, sooner or later, the golden idiot is gonna try to destroy the world.

Then again, what happened in canon wasn't the only way to beat him, and yet... no one else was coming up with anything that worked by the time Taylor pulled a Khepri, so... who knows.

“I’ll try to look at it that way,” I said, struck by how he easily he was able to employ the whole ‘take a negative and turn it into a positive’ mindset I’d been trying to maintain.  I envied that.

Easy to do from his position. I don't know what his trigger was, or if it's ever given, but it was presumably some time ago. I gather from some commentary that there's at least some notion one never moves entirely past their trigger event, but age and distance has to play some role in it.

Taylor is 15. Everything seems like the end of the world at that age.

Really, who the fuck authorized teenagers to be given this sort of power? :P

“Lung has an extensive gang throughout Brockton Bay and neighboring cities.

Really? That's never come up in fics, though it's always made sense. But then, it did make sense that something like E88 wouldn't only be in Brockton Bay, and yet, it never seems to have figured into things.

Granted, everything I know about superhero media is that it does tend to make 'the city' where the action happens seem both incredibly small and incredibly large, and weirdly isolated from the rest of the world.

I gather Worm averts some of that, but probably not all of that. It is still trapped by certain conventions of the genre.

“You’re saying I shouldn’t take the credit,” I said. “I’m saying you have two options.  Option one is to join the Wards, where you’ll have support and protection in the event of an altercation.  Option two is to keep your head down.  Don’t take the credit.  Fly under the radar.”

The wikipedia summary (and large chunks of the fandom) presents this as Armsmaster stealing credit out of being like, a glory-hound, and he's sure being... not ideal in how he presents this whole thing, but equally, again, he's not wrong.

And he's not being that bad. Doesn't come off as glory hound. But I suppose this, paired with some of the other stuff coming down the pipeline for him really colors his perception.

“Please keep my involvement in Lung’s capture secret,” I told him, painfully disappointed to have to say it, even as I knew it made the most sense.

Again, I think Armsmaster has a point, but honestly, I think he forgot what it was like to be a teenage hero, assuming he was one. He really should have considered how much the recognition would have mattered to her.

It could have gone worse.  Strange as it sounds, those words were a  security blanket I wrapped around myself to keep myself from dwelling on the fact that tomorrow was a school day.

In this scene alone, Armsmaster doesn't come off that bad. Yet. We'll see how he comes off when Taylor calls him about trying to go undercover. I've heard he's a bigger ass then. But then, he was supposed to be a huge ass here, and he's just not.

[ancientcity]

One of the first things asked in survey #2 was “What makes a fanwork not RPF?”.

Now, there isn’t one concrete answer to this. In fact, the majority of people’s responses to this question fell into one of three categories:

Having aspects of being a “character”

Not being “out of character”

Author/Artist intent

(There were also a few instances of people thinking RPF stood for Roleplay Fiction)

To expand upon the first two, Joel (Smallishbeans) states in a QnA:

“When you see me in these videos, this is not what I’m like in real life most of the time. When I’m acting all crazy and stuff that is me just messing around, having fun, and sort of like playing a character where the character is myself. But I guess for me to actually do that, I guess part of it has to be me, as I do come up with these ideas all by myself and they are a bit weird sometimes.”

And in E. T. Hetzler's "Actor Self vs. Character Self: An Empirical Exploration", they paraphrase a chapter from A Dictionary of Theatre Anthropology by Franco Ruffini.

“The actor does not have the luxury of distance. The actor must create the illusion for the audience. But for this to be the case, the actor must surely see a distinct separation between the character and his/her personal self. This is not always an easy distinction to make.”

They go on to poll actors about their relationship with their role. Nearly 75% of respondents answered "It depends on the role and production. I can be detached or immersed." to the question of "How important is it to become your character?"

A few responses caught my eye in the survey I did as well:

But regarding Author/Artist intent?

Alright alright… what does this have to do with anything?

Once the essay I’m writing on this subject is out there, I will no longer have control of how it’s interpreted. Nor this slideshow. The same goes for any form of art, fanwork or otherwise. Even with the responses to the survey, I probably didn’t get exactly what was intended out of them!

Being both an author and someone who enjoys analysis, on top of someone who enjoys reading, I’m in a bit of a tricky spot. Do I subscribe to Roland Barthes’s proposal that “the birth of the reader must be ransomed by the death of the Author”? That the author must “die” in order to give space for the reader?

Or do I follow the whims of the statistician in me? To say, for certain, what is true or false about the data given?

Do I follow the wants of the author in me? To say, for certain, what is right or wrong about a piece of canon?

An author should be given space to share what they believe about their story.

A statistician should be given space to explain their reasoning.

But as viewer of the work provided, you should be able to come to your own conclusions and interpretations about a piece of media. Author intent be damned.

After reading the answers to this survey, I think it’s safe to say that I am in the minority that believes intent doesn’t matter. That as the reader, you are able to interpret other’s work however you see fit.

So I invite you to criticize my analysis of the data. I’m not perfect, and I’m still learning. But I can and will try to see different interpretations of the data.

[hamliet]

Dear Hamliet, I've read some of your analysis and I really admire the way in which you articulate your thoughts. I'm a literature major who goes through a breakdown every time I have to write an essay. It is a really hard job for me and recently a proff told me that I rely too much on paraphrasing and I don't understand what to do with that.

So I was wondering if you have any tips on writing a well articulated argument.

Thanks in advance and hope you're having a great day! ☺️🫶

Thank you! And of course.

First of all, go easy on yourself. Learning to write good essays takes time and practice. I routinely got told the same thing about paraphrasing in high school, and then in college it was "you didn't answer 'so what?'" I was also incredibly hard on myself in college, and only realized that I actually liked writing arguments and essays after college. Probably has something to do with the fact that, while some people tend to refine under pressure, I crumble into a heap of anxiety. Lol.

Tips for Arguments: Thesis

Here are my first tips: come up with a good thesis and write an outline based on this, but also keep in mind that your thesis can be revised after you've written it should you find you were arguing something slightly different than you planned on.

Good thesis tips: should be debatable (for example, saying "Daenerys and Jon Snow are foils" is not debatable; they blatantly are). It should also answer "so what?" aka, why does what you're trying to argue matter? In terms of literature, specifically, you might want to tie it to the themes of the story or the historical context of the work, depending on the prompt, to explain that your argument affects how people read the work. For example, "Daenerys and Jon Snow foil each other in that they each deconstruct a particular archetype of the chosen one, which shows both the bad and the good of chosen one arcs; ultimately, Martin affirms the heroic goals of chosen one tropes."

You'll also hear "repeat your thesis in every body paragraph!" Which you should do (or paraphrase it, lol). But basically you want the last sentence of each argumentative point to explain why it proves your thesis.

Tip for Argument: Bluntness

You can never be too blunt in an essay. Particularly if you're writing in English, and particularly even more so if you're doing so in America (yes, culture does play a role in the levels of bluntness expected in an essay, and there are actual studies on this, as well as how culture affects essay structures!).

If you think it seems obvious, state it anyways. Don't worry about repetition so much. Worry instead about being too vague.

This is obviously a different idea than in creative writing, where subtext and "show, don't tell" get a lot of attention. Not so in academic writing. Tell us, even if you think you've shown us.

Tips for Avoiding Paraphrasing:

Think about your audience. It's hard to know specifically what you refer to, but I'm going to assume that you might be referring to the idea that you might be summarizing the book too much?

Your audience already knows the story. You aren't speaking to a rando on the street. Your audience is your professor.

Every piece of text you cite, be it a quote or a plot development, is evidence. They don't need the context of the broader work. Assume they already have it. They need evidence.

Context matters for you, insofar as authorial intent (your intent as the author of the essay) matters. Not for the audience perception. Basically, I'm saying don't take quotes out of context to make them seem like they support your thesis when they really don't, but you also don't need to explain in great detail why the context does support your thesis. Assume your professor is not a hostile audience who needs to be convinced because they believe the opposite of what you're arguing.

The other potential thing you might mean for paraphrasing is that you use brief paraphrases of the text rather than direct quotes. Where you can use direct quotes, always use them.

If you ever have specific questions on an essay, please feel free to reach out! And if any part of this isn't clear, also feel free to reach out!

[gavillain]

Is the reason why the Queen in her peddler form acted so erratically because the potion drugged her mind? Or maybe the potion did more than that and caused the Queen to split into two persons who share one mind, like Jekyll and Hyde? Or maybe the potion didn't do anything to her mind and didn't need to do anything to her mind for the queen to act so differently in her hag form? She just acts differently in her hag form for some psychological reason. Some say that the hag form persona is her real self and that the Queen form is more of a facade. But is it true, or are the two personas equally real?

My personal interpretation of Grimhilde is slightly different, actually. See, as a queen, Grimhilde is very refined and subdued, and I think that's very much intentional on her part and by design. She's royalty and thus tailors herself to the expectations of being in such a position of authority. And that regality is also something that extended to her perception of how the "Fairest One of All" should act. She doesn't necessarily change herself, but she does structure her behavior and mannerisms in a very rigidly refined way. However, we see cracks in that proverbial mirror when she becomes enraged, and the regality gives way to something more visceral and dark.

However, when she becomes the hag, she's no longer beautiful, she's no longer royalty, and she doesn't have to be so refined and intentional in her mannerisms. She has permission to just let loose and be the cackling maniacal witch that she is beneath the surface. I don't necessarily think it's that the hag is her true self per se, but it certainly is a look at who she is completely unrestrained by the expectations and inhibitions of her station without a care to how crass she might come across.

Because the thing is that she's still largely the same person in both forms. It's just a matter of one persona being tailored to how she wants to be perceived and the other being very unrestrained and unfiltered. I also think Grimhilde is an actress at heart, and both the queen and the hag are "roles" that she takes on in a very method way that extends even to when she's alone without an "audience." And that's part of why she's so effective at manipulating and taking on disguises. She plays them both in a way that suits the part, drawing from her own self in both parts, but her true self is actually probably somewhere more in between. Not necessarily so refined or so uninhibited but more at a happy medium where she's not putting on a "performance."

[esther-dot]

What do you think about song Bear and the Maiden Fair? While the bear is described as brown and black with hairs while the maid described as honey in her hair and pure. Many think that song is about Hound and Sansa because he saved her when other knights couldn't but the bear in song didn't seems to saver as it tastes the honey of maid when she was shrieking and kicking. Seems like forced touching just like Hound forcing on Sansa. Tyrion, Penny and Jorah had played the characters in Meereen.

I also received this ask about the song:

(These are so old, neither of you may be around anymore, but I finally typed up some thoughts on this. Sorry for how belated this is! 😬)

I would assume that the reason so many relationships have a connection to the song is that Martin has an interest in developing relationships between extremes. At one point or another, he’s formed a relationship between youth/age, brother/enemy, beauty/ugliness, life/death, love/hate and I totally forgot the big one and had to circle back to add: ice and fire! Lmao). “Beauty and the Beast” is based on the interest in the juxtaposition of extremes, The Bear and the Maiden Fair offers something similar, so it makes sense to me that he repeatedly utilizes it.

The placement of extremes in relation to each other is an aesthetic thing some find compelling (created via The Hound’s size and scars against Sansa’s remarkable beauty and youth, Dany’s size, eye and hair color contrasted with Drogo or Jorah’s…), but more importantly, a thematic thing. We see the contrast vividly with Brienne and Jaime as well as Sansa and the Hound. Their appearance is at odds, of course, but what really matters are how their values are contrasted. Sansa’s beliefs and her nature are entirely opposed to the Hound’s, and if you think of Jorah as the knight exiled for being a slaver and the shame of his house helping the woman who attempts to end slavery (until she needs it) and restore her house…well, you get a version of that there too.

Being that Martin has stated he played with the Beauty and the Beast angle with Sansa and the Hound, but was surprised people shipped it, we should accept that Martin uses tropes/references for different purposes, not necessarily to signal an endgame romance or mutual interest even if that is the initial thought by the reader. Martin likes the inside/outside view of things, likes to examine ideas from multiple perspectives, and a character occupying different roles throughout the story allows him to extract a lot of meaning. Fans like to focus on how Sansa is wrong about a certain character, but the main intent behind all of this is the author challenging his reader when he forces us to examine and re-examine who characters are and what he is saying with them. The lyrics of the song twists our perception of things, so, even if I reject how it’s often applied, I agree that the concept behind the song is being discussed in these relationships.

We see the same beast/knight ideas with the Hound and Sansa as with Jorah and Dany. Both Dany and Sansa have these guys who are associated with specific animals (bear, hound), who function as protectors at some point even though they also betray them. Jorah’s betrayal is labeled as such in the book, but the Hound going from rescuing Sansa to assaulting her is a betrayal as well. Both men develop loyalty to the girls, they offer some protection, both have a sexual interest in the girls and both sexually harass them (Jorah kisses Dany without permission, the Hound assaults Sansa). I suppose Sansa and the Hound fit a little better with parts of the song because the girl is initially frightened by the bear while Jorah presents quite differently despite all the bear references. The bear-ish description of Jorah isn’t just the bear sigil, we also get all the hair stuff:

"I shall wish to speak with Ser Jorah before the night is done," her brother said. Dany found herself looking at the knight curiously. He was an older man, past forty and balding, but still strong and fit. Instead of silks and cottons, he wore wool and leather. His tunic was a dark green, embroidered with the likeness of a black bear standing on two legs. (AGOT, Daenerys I)

“He had a neck and shoulders like a bull, and coarse black hair covered his arms and chest so thickly that there was none left for his head.” (AGOT, Daenerys III)

and of course, he is referenced as a bear pretty often:

“Ser Jorah, her gruff old bear” (ADWD, Daenerys VI) and he’s referred to as her “bear knight” (ADWD, Daenerys III) and “My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear” (ADWD, Daenerys X).

I selected those from ADWD because to me, that’s when it for sure was deliberately connecting back to the song as Tyrion puts Jorah in the role of the bear:

"That one is part of our show. The bear and the maiden fair. Jorah is the bear, Penny is the maiden, I am the brave knight who rescues her. I dance about and hit him in the balls. Very funny." (ADWD, Tyrion X)

So, we begin the story knowing Jorah is a bear (Mormont), that he’s described as bear/beast, called a bear/bear knight, and then eventually, he’s playacting the bear from the song. Interestingly, the "knight" who fights the bear is acted by someone Martin has called a villain. I could never argue that the author isn’t being intentionally self-referential, he clearly is. However, we do have the fact that Jorah betrayed/molested Dany, and this:

Jorah Mormont's face was dark with anger, but he answered. "To serve her. Defend her. Die for her, if need be."

That made the widow laugh. "You want to rescue her, is that the way of it? From more enemies than I can name, with swords beyond count … this is what you'd have the poor widow believe? That you are a true and chivalrous Westerosi knight crossing half the world to come to the aid of this … well, she is no maiden, though she may still be fair." (ADWD, Tyrion VII)

I’m uncomfortable with the emphasis placed on virginity in the books and hate to use that (or beauty) as a determining factor in which couple the song is “really” about, but we have this line which I see as direct guidance from Martin about interpreting the Dany and Jorah relationship as a straight up version of The Bear and the Maiden Fair. The way it’s presented and challenged indicates that while in a particular dynamic or in a specific scene a character fulfills a certain role, that isn’t necessarily their overall role. To me, looking at the story as a whole, Brienne’s role is true knight, more so than maiden. Just as the idea that Dany is the maiden/damsel is present in her interactions with Jorah, but that isn’t her role in the story as a whole, no more than Jorah is the true knight. (He’s a slaver ffs).

As for the Jaime and Brienne of it, Jaime protecting Breinne from a bear slots him into the knight role, but as they struggle over who is fighting the bear, there’s a play on who is in the knight role and who is in the “maiden” role. Also, Brienne is mockingly called beauty and Jaime is described as a beast, and while those characters are being cruel to Brienne, to the reader, we know Jaime has done horrible things (attempted kid killing = monstrous), and we know Brienne is the purist soul (goodness=beauty), so taking a step away from the superficial, we are getting a layered play on the trope. And yes, Brienne is a virgin and Jaime a knight, we can leave it there, but Brienne is a knight in the truest sense and Jaime is beautiful, so I think the best way to look at this question of who this song is “about” is to accept that the trope being discussed is getting a rotisserie chicken treatment. We’re allowed to see it from every juicy angle, not limited to one. After all, Jorah is a knight and a bear.

Of course, as I already said, since the author likes to reference things without implementing them the way people expect, this doesn’t necessarily mean romantic endgame, but saying that doesn’t mean I’m dismissing Braime because I do think Martin wrote in the romantic stuff deliberately. The whole knights/fools etc is at play in that scene too:

"What are you doing here?"

"Something stupid. Get behind me." He circled toward her, putting himself between Brienne and the bear. (ASOS, Jaime VI)

Brienne is referenced as the maid in this scene, but later she reads like a knight on a quest to save the fair maiden --Sansa. We even get some “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” singing there. If they ever meet, I would expect some beauty/beast discussion to crop up just as part of this continuing conversation about roles, part of the characters revolving through them to allow the author to thoroughly analyze the ideas and evolve what fairytales are/say. In their pairing, Brienne would be the knight to Sansa’s maiden to allow for Martin to contrast Brienne with all of our failed knights.

We get a lot of duality with these characters/their roles which means we can ask, who is the knight/who is the bear and come up with many, many answers. All of them true in a certain light, only to then turn them on their head. Sometimes, a failed knight rises to the occasion, and sometimes the maiden saves the knight, and sometimes, the knights are evil, sometimes the knight isn’t a true knight. Sometimes salvation comes from where you least expect it, and sometimes, rescuers are also a threat. The roles are there, but Martin is playing with them, challenging them, so the multiple ways we can read these characters and dynamics is very much intentional. All of that being said, it’s undeniable that there is one maiden for whom the song is particularly relevant.

Sansa fits the maiden role in a much more overarching way than our other contenders. Not only because she’s a virgin, not simply because of her interest in romance or because so much of her story has been driven by various people’s sexual/political interest in her/marrying her, but because she represents certain attributes, foremost of them, mercy. We get in trouble when talking about how beautiful she is, but it can’t be disregarded because she represents hope, innocence, compassion, peace. Martin made her beautiful not just as a physical thing, rather, because she is representative of ideas; she is the beauty of certain ideals.

The Hound who laughs at killing children is moved to protect her, can’t follow through on his own desire to harm her. Dontos tells her,

"A knight?" Joffrey had decreed that he was to be a knight no longer, only a fool, lower even than Moon Boy. "I prayed to the gods for a knight to come save me," she said. "I prayed and prayed. Why would they send me a drunken old fool?"

"I deserve that, though . . . I know it's queer, but . . . all those years I was a knight, I was truly a fool, and now that I am a fool I think . . . I think I may find it in me to be a knight again, sweet lady. And all because of you . . . your grace, your courage. You saved me, not only from Joffrey, but from myself." (ACOK, Sansa II)

Personification is a thing and even though she is a multidimensional character, I think the way Martin has written Sansa makes it clear that he is calling back to old archetypes here which is why, when you hear “maiden fair,” Sansa is the referenced character in an overarching way, not just in a specific dynamic, not just in a specific chapter or one book, but in the series, this is who she is in a way that no other character is.

Her role in the story is notably the tropey damsel in distress/princess in the tower (in a way that Dany and Brienne are not), and even with the revision of what that means by a modern author, even with the idea growing and evolving into something new, with the girl having far more agency and inner life than in older stories, it’s so clear this is who she is that even her haters know it. They call her a princess in a tower to show their disdain, but all they’re doing is admitting that even they recognize who she is in the story.

And of course, there is the fact that Sansa is referred to as a fair maiden, even in her TWOW chapter, that her beauty is often remarked upon, and that she has some parallels with Persephone which seems pertinent due to the Beauty and the Beast/Hades and Persephone/Death and the Maiden connection:

Petyr cut a pomegranate in two with his dagger, offering half to Sansa. "You should try and eat, my lady."

"Thank you, my lord." Pomegranate seeds were so messy; Sansa chose a pear instead, and took a small delicate bite. It was very ripe. The juice ran down her chin. (ASOS,

LF is her uncle (by marriage), he spirits her away from KL and is clearly intent on making her his, and as we know, he’s orchestrated destruction for her family/the realm, so he fits in here as a kind of Hades (death) to Sansa’s maiden which is relevant considering how loosely related death and the maiden is to the beauty and the beast idea.

However, the thing that feels the most like the author directing us to a specific conclusion must be reading her first chapter in ASOS which might as well be called “the Bear and the Maiden Fair chapter” because we finally get the lyrics to the song, and it’s interspersed into a scenario that is kinda telling a similar story. Sansa wants a beautiful knight (Loras), but is offered a stranger instead (Willas). We’ve also just read a speedrun through all the fake knights/bears/suitors/“love interests” Sansa (or fans) have selected for her:

Sansa wondered if Joffrey knew of this supper. For all she knew, it might be his doing. That thought made her fearful. If Joff was behind the invitation, he would have some cruel jape planned to shame her in the older girl's eyes. Would he command his Kingsguard to strip her naked once again? The last time he had done that his uncle Tyrion had stopped him, but the Imp could not save her now.

No one can save me but my Florian. Ser Dontos had promised he would help her escape, but not until the night of Joffrey's wedding. The plans had been well laid, her dear devoted knight-turned-fool assured her; there was nothing to do until then but endure, and count the days.

[…]

Even so, she must accept. She was nothing now, the discarded daughter of a traitor and disgraced sister of a rebel lord. She could scarcely refuse Joffrey's queen-to-be.

I wish the Hound were here. The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she'd been wise. She had his stained white cloak hidden in a cedar chest beneath her summer silks. She could not say why she'd kept it. (ASOS, Sansa I)

So, we have the prince who turned out to be a monster (Joffrey), the guy everyone thinks of as a monster who protects her (Tyrion), a knight who she saved but sexually harasses her (Dontos), a man who threatens her but ended up saving her only to then turn around and be a threat himself (The Hound). See what I mean about multiple roles? My gosh, it’s almost like the author has intentionally been writing variations of the song into Sansa’s story all along, or even, dare I say it, he's written Sansa’s story into a song, only, none of these match up perfectly, so we are still waiting for the true(est) incarnation of this song to manifest into her story.

Or, all of that shorter:

"I CALLED FOR A KNIGHT, BUT YOU'RE A BEAR! (ASOS, Sansa I)

"I prayed to the gods for a knight to come save me," she said. "I prayed and prayed. Why would they send me a drunken old fool?" (ACOK, Sansa II)

So, if Sansa is the maiden of the song, the maiden fair of A Song of Ice and Fire, who is the bear, who’s the knight? More importantly, where is this poor girl’s hero?

Y’all, this is getting ridiculously long. Now, I’ve never not done something for a silly reason like not wanting to appear ridiculous, but I can’t post seven thousand words all at once. tumblr staff will deactivate my account to save me from myself! I will get to Jon and the Jonsa of it all in part two.

[tolkien-feels]

Did Tolkien specifically state that elves were heterosexual or is it just some people?

(Like, I'm in no way trying to be rude, I just wanted confirmation since one of my friends ships Russingon, and the other said that elves were heterosexual)

Oh that's a minefield. I'll try to answer this as unbiasedly as I can, but keep in mind I am both 1) queer myself and 2) not interested in shipping as much as I am interested in other aspects of fandom. If either of these things makes me lean towards one side or the other, I will leave to your discretion as you read this.

I'll try to be as succinct as possible but we'll see if this doesn't end up long.

Also this is such a minefield, like I've said, that I will disable reblogs because I really don't want to deal with discourse at best and actual queerphobia at worst.

The first thing is that traditionally, shipping has never relied on whether an author would approve of it or not. So "You can't ship this because the author says you can't" is not an opinion that would have been given much weight for much of fandom history. "Could this theoretically be canon?" is an incredibly recent development, especially when it comes to queer relationships. So your friend could and should ship whatever they want!

In terms of authorial intent, better read people than I could point you in the direction of a small library of literary scholarship debating how Tolkien portrays gender and sexuality. It's a complicated, nuanced topic.

As for what he's actually said... That's difficult to answer. I don't believe there's a sentence out there that says "Elves are exclusively heterosexual." Does that mean that they aren't? Well, not quite.

Maybe Tolkien didn't think anyone would assume anything but that they were heterosexual, and didn't particularly think he had to clarify that point. Or, alternatively, he did not think they were in fact exclusively heterosexual but was not comfortable with exploring that due to a myriad of factors, so he chose not to address it at all. There's no real way of knowing this, especially not without dedicating a lot of time to studying it, which I have not.

In terms of "Has he ever portrayed a queer relationship?" Eh. Also difficult to tell. There is a lot of ambiguity in how Tolkien portrays a lot of relationships, including heterosexual ones. I could make a case why a lot of his canonical, heterosexual couples are purely platonic, and a case why a lot of his commonly-read-as-friendship, same-gender relationships are romantic.

Also, just because Tolkien did not portray something "on screen", it does not mean it doesn't exist in his world. The Hobbit has no female characters, but presumably, there should be women in the world. So that's also not the way to go about it.

There are a few texts where Tolkien discusses how elves view marriage and sex, but 1) their role in canon is debatable; 2) they contradict each other and also other canonical or semi-canonical sources; 3) they tend to be framed in terms of customs (=what was socially expected among elves) rather than unbiased worldbuilding (=what Tolkien knew to be true.)

This distinction would not usually matter, except many people have proved Tolkien often enjoyed playing with the gap between reality and tradition. The most important texts about elves and love also tend to have a frame narrative of having been compiled or translated, so that's also another layer.

This isn't an intellectual exercise. This is actually important. In general, when Tolkien lays down a custom, you can immediately think of something in direct contradiction to it, and he often draws attention to these contradictions in the text itself. So it's actually very important, when reading these texts, to remember they are fallible by design.

This may all seem like I'm trying to rule lawyer. I promise you that is not what I'm doing.

Here's what I'm doing: I'm showing that to get to an answer, you have to dig so deep that I find it extremely unlikely that this is an important, unchangeable aspect of canon.

Tolkien did change canon over the course of his life - making dwarves more heroic, for example, and working on fleshing out female characters. If he lived forever, and came to think actually he wanted to have openly queer elves, he wouldn't have to break canon nearly as much as he had to in order to revise other things that he did revise.

Honestly? Sexuality in Tolkien's worldbuilding is almost a non-issue. The etymology of the name Maedhros probably bothered Tolkien much more than his love life. You need to break canon much harder to have bearded Aragorn than to have queer elves. If we're sticking to strict, strict, strict canon, we are going to run into contradictions all over the place (ask someone about how nonsensical Tolkien's math is), and I tend to take cues from the text to see what is important to pay attention to.

This is of course subjective, but like, I find Russingon much more canon-compliant (although I don't ship them) than if you were to tell me Fingolfin, who was married in Aman, married someone else in Beleriand. That is enough of a taboo among elves that it comes up, explicitly and implicitly, at several key points.

Now, I still wouldn't care, because I don't need Tolkien's permission to do what I want, but I would say that breaks canon much more definitely than the mere idea of queer elves.

(If anything, Maedhros and Fingon might run into a different taboo - they're too close kin to be in a relationship. But that's a rule Tolkien can't seem to make up his mind on. Which kind of proves my point.)

Having said all this... I would tentatively say Tolkien did not mean for any elves to be queer. But that understanding is informed more by my understanding of him as a person than by my understanding of canon, because again, this simply isn't something that comes up in a clear way. Or if it does and I'm just forgetting something, it's obscure enough that I don't think it really matters as much as issues people routinely ignore in the fandom at large (eg linguistics, or elements drawn from medieval literature.)

So while I do think people are justified in assuming no, there aren't queer relationships in Tolkien, I also think that's got to be the weirdest hill to die on unless you are bringing your biases to the text.

EDIT: Adding @pearlescentpearl‘s reply because it belongs here

Weighing in with a supporting thought! IIRC the clearest thing Tolkien ever said about elven marriage is that it’s *for the sake of children*, which is incredibly congruent with many of the histories Tolkien liked to study. Whether you were straight or queer, having children was incredibly important for a number of reasons and having children within some kind of formal acknowledgement of a union was useful for a. the pooling of resources, and b. the allotment of resources to descendants (inheritance). so for elves, if the purpose of marriage is ultimately for children, and the making of children involves both parents pouring in the strength of their spirits to nurture the baby, a marriage didn’t have to mean ‘I am romantically and sexually attracted to this person’, although undoubtedly common. it could also mean ‘this is the person I’ve chosen to procreate with and no other reason’, which still leaves plenty of room for one or both to have queer relationships outside the formal union they make children with, which is also congruent with a lot of historic practices

[spewagepipe]

Plumbing the Depths: Low Trust "Traditional", Part 5: Conclusions

In an effort to understand Hamilton's position better, I started reading other articles on his blog, and found this:

This is why role-playing games are so awesome. The game is yours. No designer and no judge has any right to come to your table to tell you that you’re doing it wrong. The methods you find to work for you, to portray and play your worlds are the right way. 

It seems... odd? For one, this isn't unique to RPGs – you can hack and homebrew any kind of game. But also, it directly contradicts the very prescriptive way that he's been attacking blorb.

Justin, if you're reading this, what you need to understand is that Sandra did exactly what you're suggesting in the quote above. For years, she played according to FKR standards, in high-trust groups, using the recommended techniques. She tried everything to make it work – and it still sucked for her. So, in response, she changed her game, and through those changes, she made it fun.

So why is Hamilton still unhappy about blorb?

Firstly, he's unhappy because it should be impossible for an FKR game to suck. Since it allows the GM to use any tool from any game while also empowering them to ignore any rule that causes problems, FKR should have all the strengths of all RPGs with none of their weaknesses. It should be a perfect game, satisfying any and all desires. If that's true, then Snan must be either lying or mistaken – hence, he accuses her of arguing in bad faith.

In reality, Snan's blog earnestly and clearly explains that unlimited GM authority was, in fact, the source of her problem:

I felt like nothing really mattered. The GM just made up what would happen according to their whim of what would fit the drama or what would be cool in the moment or what they thought made sense.

Unmoored from any hard rules, the games lacked tangible, real-life stakes to keep her invested. To fix this problem, she made the GM subordinate to the "prep", creating an non-negotiable bedrock to the game, and with it, the tangible stakes she was missing.

This, as Hamilton argues in yet another article, constitutes a "betrayal of the medium of role-playing".

This statement finally reveals the misconception at the heart of all of Hamilton's confusing contradictions: Hamilton is an RPG essentialist. He thinks that only One True RPG exists, and that all actual RPGs are, secretly, attempts to describe this essential game.

When he writes that we should "allow for the referee to follow their intended role", he genuinely thinks that there is only one intended role for the GM, for all RPGs, for all time. It's not just one possibility that he happens to enjoy – it's the true one, the default one. It was ordained by the universe itself, rather than some mere game designer. This is why he is disdainful of "designer intent": a designer's will is an imposition, their rules a kind of coercion, that are interfering with the essential RPG.

When he writes "the game is yours", he means, "except for these, the essential things".

He is, of course, wrong. There is no essential RPG. When Hamilton (and far too many other FKR/OSR theorists) describe the essential characteristics of the RPG medium, they are actually just describing their own designer intentions. GM fiat is not essential to RPGs – it's just one design choice, among many, and like all the others, comes with its own set of advantages and drawbacks.

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

hello!! I’m reading ‘born to play this game’ and I’m really enjoying it! Love the use of language in the story, every location we visit, the details of the cooking/serving/social behaviour, and every new character we meet!

(Thank you for sending me that way after ‘beautiful without our war paint’!) I will review as soon as I’m done (chapter 19!!!), but I was wondering if you have a tag or more written stuff on Tar vs Ka’ra, or overall a worldbuilding primer? It’s all so interesting, I’d love to know more!

Also, and sorry if I missed this, but ‘born to play this game’ is the first in the series, right? Is it intentional that we figure out Spar’s backstory alongside the main events? I ask because i got the impression that there is an obvious affection between him and Jango but I was also wondering how did Jango get (emotionally) to the point of seeing Spar as a family member? And does he think the same of the rest of the clones? If you ever explored this anywhere else in writing let me know, I’d love to read it! And if it’s just a matter of reading the rest of the series, then I will surely do that!

And thank you ahead of time for writing and sharing such a great story!!!!

Hi! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the fic so far! “born to play this game” is the first one in the series and while I may eventually write a fic about Spar on Kamino in the ‘verse, btptg was as early as I wanted to start the series because in the end it’s a series about Spar’s journey grappling with agency, legacy, and identity. I’ve kind of stopped making unique posts about my AUs on tumblr unless requested, because of lack of interest, but the tag “ssitb verse” has some stuff including stories that don’t quite fit the actual verse so get a “ssitb au verse” tag iirc. But here are a few more details to answer some questions.

Kar versus Tra

Kar and Tra as a system are very much still evolving as I write this series. I have used it in other fics since coming up with it, though. I’m marking down to write a more detailed bit about the mystical world building I’ve used in starstuff in the blood but that’s…a lot more than just Kar and Tra.

Spar’s backstory and his relationship with Jango

The important parts of Spar’s backstory will be revealed as things go on, but how he and Jango got to the familiar relationship they have in btptg probably won’t ever be touched on directly. Grappling with Spar’s issues was a fundamentally intimate experience between them, one that sparked both mutual sibling affection and an absolute mess of other emotions. There’s also some things that will be revealed later in the series that kind of primed Jango to make this relationship as is. But. Basically, Spar knew too much to ever be Jango’s child. They started off way more like a master and young padawan, but Spar’s knowledge of the family and Jango’s history meant he automatically and unconsciously undermined a lot of Jango’s authority over him. He’s probably the only Alpha who can get away with absolute screaming rows with Jango. And Jango kind of saw Spar as his own do-over. Spar never had to worry about being Mand’alor, but had Jango’s experiences, and that also led to a lot of affection. Jango trying to straddle the line between parent and teacher ended up with him falling into more of an older brother (promoted to parent trope) role. When Spar left Kamino, they formalized that.

How Jango sees the rest of the clones

Hhhh okay I’m going to preface this by saying. Spar isn’t a perfect person/character by any stretch. And Jango is even worse. I love him but he’s an absolute dick. Part of his arc in the series is literally learning to care about anyone who isn’t Boba or Spar, including himself.

So. Jango is fond of the Alphas like many teachers are of their students. He doesn’t have nearly the patience with them he does with Spar (who already gets less than Boba, especially because annoying little brother), but he likes them. He absolutely has favorites but will not speak them. As for the other clones…some he likes, though doesn’t really have affection for. Others he doesn’t. And generally he doesn’t care at all about them. And he also doesn’t have much consideration for their agency. Everything he does for them in the series is pretty much because he either sees it as necessary for soldiers’ morale or because someone makes him do it. Or because it serves another purpose for him.

[toujokaname]

Get Along / Episode 4

Author: Kino Seitaro with Akira

Characters: Tatsumi, Hiyori, Hokuto, Arashi, Kanata

"That's—my "wish", from the bottom of my heart."

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Location: Old Seisoukan Building

Season: Winter

Tatsumi: I've returned. Arashi-san said she left something in her room, so she'll come back later―

Oh? It seems no one is here. I heard that Hiyori-san was practicing by himself today.

Hiyori: ......

Tatsumi: (Mm? So, Hiyori-san was on the balcony.)

(Is he on the phone with someone...?)

Hiyori: "...Yes. Yes. I know."

"The next reading drama will be my last job. After that, I'll spend my time properly as a son of the Tomoe household, so please let me finish this project."

"I don't intend to ask for an extension―after I've already asked for one."

"I'll keep my promise. I will retire after the end of the year SS. That was the agreement."

Tatsumi: ...!

(As I thought, Hiyori-san's statement about his "last job" wasn't a misunderstanding on my part.)

(But I never thought that Hiyori-san would retire from being an idol―)

Hiyori: Hmm. Eavesdropping isn't acceptable, is it?

Tatsumi: I'm sorry, I just came back.

Eavesdropping wasn't my intention, but I walked in at the wrong time.

Still, is what you said true? That this reading drama in the Shuffle Project will be your last job...

Hiyori: Yes. I didn't mean to hide it. I was going to say it when the Shuffle Members were all in sync, but it's true.

Of course, I know you have a lot of questions... But it's better to talk about these things in the presence of everyone. Can we do it when everyone in Getto Spectacle is here?

Tatsumi: ...Of course. Do so whenever you're ready, Hiyori-san.

Hiyori: Thank you. I'm glad you understand.

Hiyori: Everyone. Thank you for gathering here.

Originally, we were going to have dinner together at this time, but...

There's something I really need to tell you. Will you listen to me for a minute?

Hokuto: What's the matter, you're being so formal... It's not like the usual Tomoe-senpai.

Arashi: Could it be, maybe Tomoe-senpai also thought there was a problem with living in the old building―?

Kanata: Is that true...?

There's no need to force ourselves to live "together", but... Maybe we can talk about it a little more?

Hiyori: No, that's not what I want to talk about. Communication is important, but I should've told you something more important than that.

To tell you the truth, I'm retiring from idol work at the end of this job.

Hokuto: Retiring...?!

Impossible, for Tomoe-senpai to do that... This isn't a bad joke, is it?

Kanata: I'm "surprised", too. Do the people in "Eden" and Anzu-san know about this?

Hiyori: Yes. I've already told the people closest to me.

According to the Tomoe household's policy, I was supposed to go back to my parents' home after graduating from high school.

But I was worried about Jun-kun and Eden, so I asked for a one-year extension.

Because of that, I was going to make the year-end SS my last job and turn down this project, but when I heard that the theme was "Princess Kaguya", I hesitated a little.

A role that would let me say goodbye―Maybe this could be the one last role I play for my fans. That's what I thought.

So, I volunteered to be the leader.

"DJ Classics" is a popular educational program that brings together famous creators and star guests.

That kind of treatment would be appropriate for my last job before I retire―Everyone in Eden agreed.

Tatsumi: I just heard about it a short while ago, and it still shocks me.

I didn't notice a single sign of such a thing, and I had no idea that discussions of that manner had been going on behind the scenes―

Hiyori: Well, it's no wonder you're surprised. I don't really like for things to get gloomy.

An idol like a bright sun who had a smile on his face until the very end―I wanted everyone to think that Tomoe Hiyori was just like that.

Tatsumi: Hiyori-san...

Kanata & Arashi: ......

Hokuto: I see... So that's why Tomoe-senpai was so enthusiastic about this Shuffle Project.

Tatsumi: Yes... I'm unaware of what these family matters entail, but―

This job must be a parting gift from Anzu-san and ES, to the wonderful idol named Hiyori-san.

Hiyori: I guess it's a bit like that. I wish I could've been an idol for longer. Ahh, jeez... Seriously, such bad weather.

I thought it would be a special project, but the members of Getto Spectacle still aren't in sync, and there's only a week left―the worst possible situation.

Hiyori: But it's not over yet.

I want to make this job a success no matter what. I hope you will all help me decorate the path to the end of my career[1].

That's―my "wish", from the bottom of my heart.

Hiyori uses the term 花道, which literally means "flower path", but it's also used to refer to the honorable end to one's career, specifically in the manner of a performer leaving the stage towards the audience in order to receive flowers. It also refers to the art of flower arrangement, as Hiyori is part of Reimei's Flower Arrangement Club.

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[greatwyrmgold]

Defining "Rational Fic"

Rational Fic is a term that gets thrown around occasionally in online literary circles, particularly in the orbit of one Eliezer Yudkowsky. This makes sense; Yudkowsky's HPMoR is arguably the reason this (genre?) has any traction or distinct identity.

But what is that identity, and what works fall under the label?

I will attempt to define "rational fic" as a genre the way that the International Roguelike Development Conference 2008 attempted to define roguelikes: By creating a list of factors which make a narrative more "rational-fic-like". Possessing some of these attributes does not automatically make a story Rational Fic, lacking some does not automatically disqualify it, trying to nail down ironclad genre definitions is pointless.

To clarify my points, I will be explaining how these points apply to four narratives that I feel fit the Rational Fic label: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card, Worm by J.C. McCrae, Mother of Learning by Domagoj Kurmaic, and of course Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Eliezer Yudkowsky. Please note that, since this is a pretentious blog post and not a formal paper, I didn't bother rereading any of these stories before writing this post. I might mess up details here or there, and apologize for doing so. Hopefully none of my errors are severe enough to undermine the points that actually matter.

There are, I feel, three critical components to a Rational Fic: A rational protagonist (herein called "the hero"), a rational narrative (herein called "the plot"), and a rational setting (herein called "the world").

The world is the easiest aspect to explain. The world has a set of well-defined rules, revealed significantly before they become relevant. The intent is generally, at least in part, to let the reader speculate about what the hero (or other characters) can do to resolve obstacles the plot places in front of them.

In the cases where a work of rational fic is fanfiction, the author is almost certainly trying to force the source work's looser rules to fit this standard of consistency. Results vary.

This consistency of setting is probably the most foundational, least negotiable element of the Rational Fic genre. Many other aspects of a rational fic rely on this consistency to function.

EG is relatively hard science fiction, with its few science fantasy elements being explained well before they become plot-critical. The Battle Room game which takes up the middle majority of the book has clearly-defined rules, because it's basically a school sport. The "simulated" battles towards the tail end are vaguer, but the most critical component—the Dr. Device serving as their primary armament—has its capabilities explained before the training actually starts.

Worm is a bit shonen-battle-manga-ey, in that its various characters all have powers that function on their own internal logic. However: Characters' powers stick to that logic rigidly, there are a fair number of similarities and consistencies in how powers function, and time is generally taken to explain characters' powers before they become plot-relevant (rather than having them explain their own powers mid-fight).

MoL takes great care to show the reader how its various branches of magic work, assisted in no small part by the fact that Zorian spends much of his looped time either searching for teachers or learning from them.

HPMoR is known for, among other things, trying to bring logic to the somewhat inconsistent wizarding world written by JKR. Like MoL, it's set at a magical school; unlike MoL, the wizards don't have that much interest in discovering how magic works (the better to contrast HJPEV, I suppose), meaning that experimentation plays a much larger role.

(Ironically, HPMoR—the quintessential Rational Fic—is probably the least consistent out of these examples. HJPEV pulls off multiple tricks that the wider world thinks impossible, from partial transfiguration to creating a human Patronus that destroys Dementors. Yudkowsky probably intended these to be possible for a while before writing them, but from the reader's perspective, we're told these things are impossible and Harry does then anyways. Which fits the theme of human ingenuity overcoming any obstacle, but still makes the story as a whole fit this part of the definition less comfortably than EG, Worm, or MoL.)

The plot of rational fic is derived from the world. The plot is, in part, a series of obstacles which the hero must overcome to achieve their goals; the hero, being too weak to overcome those obstacles through conventional means, must find unconventional means to overcome them.

Specifically, the hero seeks to discover and exploit unconventional uses of various setting elements, whether that be magic, technology, or something else. Often, they also incorporate an understanding of their enemies' psychology into their strategies. And of course, the climax involves the biggest, most elaborate out-of-the-box strategy of all.

All four of the sample Rational Fics are full of examples of this, to the point that the only way I could explain how this applies to them is listing a bunch of examples that stand out in my mind, which would be spoilery for three and require me to admit that I don't remember anything interesting that HJPEV did.

Speaking of HJPEV: The hero of a rational fic is, to some extent, rational. But what does this mean? First off, it means that they are both the kind of person who can solve big problems with out-of-the-box thinking, and the kind of person who needs to. An underdog, but a clever one.

Ender is a relatively small boy, putting him at a disadvantage in physical confrontations. Battle School does their hardest. And then he fights the aliens that almost colonized Earth twice. Yet, he always wins (to a degree that would get him called a Mary Sue if he were a girl).

Taylor controls bugs, has next to no support structure, and regularly fights enemies which are unaffected by spider bites, really good at killing bugs, or both. And yet, she survives roughly three LotRs of escalating "I can take her"s.

Zorian is unremarkable except for a knack for mana shaping and latent psychic potential. Well, and getting stuck in a time loop. But he overcomes another looper who knows his strengths well enough to prepare countermeasures, including mind blank.

HJPEV is ten, and was raised by Muggles. He defeats a wide variety of magical foes, up to and including a Voldemort who is written to be more rational than his canon counterpart, in his first year at Hogwarts.

The hero is obviously framed as being intelligent, though the details vary greatly from story to story. As important as the places where they're smart are the places where they are dumb; after all, a hero who's just super smart and always makes the right decision is boring!

Ender isn't just smart; he's the smartest, plucked from a smart family and given military training to lead humanity to victory against the buggers. His intelligence takes the form of ruthlessly "seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution," even if that means mortally wounding his bullies to get them to stop. His biggest flaw is his trusting nature; he believes the authorities when they say his bullies survive, he believes them when they say he's being trained to defend the Solar System, he believes them when they say the battles (including his alien genocide) are just training simulations.

Taylor is probably the stupidest out of the four heroes discussed here. She's pretty good at a lot of things, but most notably excels in MacGuyvering a solution out of spider silk, random bugs, and her knife. She has two big blind spots: She's bad at social situations (her primary negotiating tactic is to not negotiate with anyone unless there's a big, obvious threat that people need to work together to fight), and she's not great at considering the long-term impact of her actions. Also, she's the only one of these four who's struggling academically.

By contrast, Zorian is good at school, he's okay at thinking on his feet, and most importantly, he's great at planning ahead. His primary flaw is his antisocial nature; he sucks at dealing with people, doesn't want to, and for much of the story tries to avoid and ignore people.

HPJEV is super-logical, good at figuring out unclear facts and making good plans once he has all the facts. His big weaknesses are his average intuition (contrast Ender, Taylor, and Zorian) and the fact that, despite his pure intentions, he's kind of an unempathetic jerk. Though he's also way better at being a solo hero than Zorian or Ender, so I question whether this is a real weakness...

You'll note that all four of these heroes have blind spots with other people. Ender's people problems are less severe than Taylor's, HPJEV's, or especially Zorian's, but his blind spot still involves other people. Whether this should be considered a component of rational fic per se or simply an incarnation of the socially-awkward-genius trope is a question I will raise without definitively answering.

I could go into deeper detail, pointing out other commonalities between these stories that seem rational-fic-ey, but this has lingered in my drafts for months, so I'm just gonna post it and encourage y'all to add your own thoughts in the notes.

[creative-anchorage]

I was out for a walk recently, venting via text to a friend about something silly, and I couldn’t stop myself from bookending my rant with apologies for bothering them. Their response stopped me midstep: “I want to know what’s going on with you.” As someone who wants to be as ambitious about my friendships as I am my work, but who always worries about needing a little “too much” from the people I lean on, the word “want” caught my attention. Ultimately I think that’s what we all need in relationships: People who want to show up for us, and vice versa. This kind of care and intention feels like a form of ambition—that’s not a term I would have previously used in a sentence about friendship, but it is one that makes sense to me now. ... [...] While I knew how much my friends mattered to me, learning to be ambitious about friendships required not just that I show up, but that I practice letting other people in. It meant embracing the fact that I’m inherently needy, even when the faulty self-reliance of one kind of ambition tells me I should be able to do it alone, or that I’m overstaying my welcome by asking too much of my friends. ... Yearning for stronger, more substantial connections isn’t news: Loneliness is considered a public health threat. Though some research shows that people with strong friendships have better physical and mental health, other research indicates we tend to lose friendships as we age. Our reliance on each other never truly fades, but too often, it’s shoved underneath too many obligations and too little time and resources.

Rhaina Cohen, a journalist and author of the forthcoming book, The Other Significant Others, has focused years of research and reporting on friends who are so close, they rise to the level of partners. “This is a big question I’m trying to deal with: what does it mean to be partners?” Cohen said. What kept coming up for people, she explained, was “this mix of deep and profound knowledge of another person, but also a kind of everyday presence, and sense that that person is interested in all of the mundanities of your life, and will debrief with you at the end of the day.” In a piece for The Atlantic, Cohen noted that in LGBTQ+ communities, there’s a long history of high value being placed on friendships, including friends as “chosen family.” “I think, for a lot of reasons, in the queer community, it’s just much more understood that friends can play a variety of roles and not be peripheral,” she told me. There still remain few roadmaps for organizing one’s life around friends, Cohen said, but she said she thinks there is a “growing recognition that having a social world beyond the nuclear family setup is important.” One of the things Cohen was thinking about before we spoke via Zoom, she said, was “to the extent that there’s ambition involved in building new ties, it involves putting in a lot of work on the front end to make friendship easy on a day-to-day level.” She shared an example: She lives in a home with her husband, as well as two good friends and their two children. They are a five-minute walk from one of her other close friends, with about 20 other friends and acquaintances within a 15-minute walking radius. “When our cultural norms treat living with friends as a passing phase and our housing is designed for nuclear families, it takes imagination to dream up a life built around friends,” Cohen added. “And it takes ambition to make the idea a reality.” Meanwhile, others point to small ways to be ambitious about friendship. “When I think about ambition, I think about focus, I think about intention, I think about momentum toward a goal,” said Danielle Bayard Jackson, a friendship coach and educator, and author of an upcoming book on friendship. Jackson explained that much of this is about taking our intention and making it tangible. She suggested putting a post-it where you can see it, listing three to five people you want to prioritize connecting with, whether it’s a close friend or someone you just met. You can also develop what Jackson calls friendship rituals—standing dates to have a call, get coffee, watch a show, or whatever works for you—to ensure friends don’t get pushed to the scheduling back-burner. It takes effort, and it shows desire, something Jackson said we should normalize in our platonic relationships. “We all want to feel like somebody's thinking of you,” she added.

[sbbarnes]

So Stephen King went on twitter and compared criticism of cultural appropriation in literature to book banning. Oh boy.

I've known for a long time that if I am serious about getting my work published, establishing some sort of online presence on social media is an unavoidable evil. Not only am I ambivalent at best about the role social media plays in the world these days, I'm also deeply lazy about maintaining it. However, here I am, giving it by best effort.

Further than that, though, every time some new wave of discourse about a media creator breaks into my relatively small corner of the internet, my first thought is always "why did they have to share this opinion with the world?". Genuinely, sincerely, this post notwithstanding, even if my little cozy mystery about an academic and an auto mechanic finding love in the Hudson Valley does reach anyone someday, I would love if my opinions continue to interest no one at all.

Not that I don't think I have good opinions! They're mine, I'm partial, and I post them online more than is good for me or anyone else. And I'm not here to talk about cancel culture, smarter and more eloquent people have done that to little to no effect. I'm talking more about two things: Death of the Author and the twitter word limit and how they do not mix well.

Personally, I think this is a very bad take on King's part. Criticism is not the same thing as banning; people should be allowed to express when they think someone's ideas are bad or harmful. It's not the same as wanting to ban a book, not least because criticism lacks the authority to ban. Especially because book banning is often used to silence minority voices, and criticism of cultural appropriation in books is pointing out that the publishing industry these days elevates white voices and appropriation and thereby also silences minority voices. The comparison criticism and banning not only misses the differing intent behind the two things, it cuts out the structural elements of the industry being criticized and turns it into a "bad people want to ban books" discussion rather than "the system is discriminatory towards minority voices" discussion.

This kind of take has an origin, though. King is from a different generation than a lot of people reacting to his post, and his generation was deeply influenced by the first cultural backlashes to the horrors of Nazism. It created this very single-minded "all book banning is bad because the Nazis did it" type of discourse at the time, which perseveres in a lot of people. I see this a lot in my day job, where I interact with a lot of Germans in King's age group who were socialized to intensely reject anything perpetuated by the Nazis. Which is obviously a good impulse!

But it leads straight into the tolerance paradox where I then find myself explaining that it's not at all the same thing for young people of color to not accept being forced into reading literature in a school setting that uses racist language uncritically, or literature that uses racist language if that racist language isn't contextualized in class. This is a very different starting point for editing a curriculum - it's starting at a point of wanting to protect young, vulnerable people and to educate about and contextualize older texts that reproduce a colonial mindset. And because via repetition the "all book banning is bad" take has become oversimplified to the point of being an absolute, a lot of people aren't prepared to discuss it with nuance at all.

I have no idea where King stands on all these things, because he posted one tweet on the matter, which is a space that just utterly disallows for the nuance of the topic. And that one two-sentence tweet already has several thousand replies and far more people talking *about* it, to the point where any agent would probably recommend King say nothing more on the subject, because it will just create more discourse. Let's be real, King's career will not be affected, especially if he just ignores it for now.

But what I wonder is why he had to weigh in at all and why people had to engage and respond. Twitter killing death of the author is not news, but incidents like these are so starkly representative of how much easier it was to be a reader when you didn't have access to author's thoughts on everything.

[revolutionaryfiction-is-pain]

Les Misérables London West End 2022-2023 Cast:

Jon Robyns as Jean Valjean:

I really loved Jon as JVJ, his performance was so dynamic and powerful. Probably one of the best JVJ’s in terms of acting ability - he was amazing throughout. The looks and head movements he gave towards Javert were hilarious: he was done with everything Javert was doing. When Javert entered the hospital the look was basically the definition of ‘dude! She’s dying! Not the time!’. He also had amazing vocals (not my favourite this year) but his bring him home was beautiful. The main part of his performance, like I previously said, was the acting.

David Thaxton as Javert:

Amazing Javert. His performance of Stars was just incredible. His acting performance throughout scenes was the perfect mix of intimidating and authority. His soliloquy was so well acted. He mixed speaking a singing with I adored. He also had a softness about him that ran along the sternness and it was confusingly good. His chemistry with Jon Robyns was perfect - they worked the best as a pair compared to other performances I’ve seen this year. Their fight scenes were great.

Ava Brennan as Fantine:

She had such beautiful rich low tone that maintained a youthfulness to it which was just incredible. Her acting was also really good although I think she could have explored the physicality of Fantine a bit more as some parts were very stationary with just facial expressions. But overall one of my favourite performances this year.

[does anyone know why the fantine dress has changed again???!!!!!]

Nathania Ong as Eponine:

The best vocals I’ve literally ever heard live in anything ever (and that’s saying something since I’ve heard Bradley Jaden’s Soliloquy which was mind shatteringly good). Her performance personified acting with intent. Everything she did had a purpose and it gave such a realistic refreshing dynamic performance. Her on my own was the best vocal performance of anyone this year no matter the role. My favourite thing was when she switch to a hopeful childlike tone on the word “happiness” in on my own, before switching immediately back to anger. She played such a dark Eponine who felt caught up in everything but still separate which adored so much.

Benjamin Karran as Marius (1st cover):

Beautiful low vocals, but I did think that his high notes needed some work in terms of darkening the sounds as they sometimes came across screechy. I loved his characterisation though, it was a wonderful blend of annoying and adorable which made enjolras’ frustration understandable. Overall he was a really easy to watch Marius.

Lulu-Mae Pears as Cosette:

Cosette personified. Pure and utter beauty, are the only ways to describe her performance. She had beautiful high notes with no effort or over done vibrato. Her character was so bouncy and energetic and youthful, and she made you just fall in love with cosette as a character. She had such a youthful personality without being overly innocent and was exactly how I envisioned cosette from reading the book. Probably the most enjoyable cosette I’ve seen in a long while.

Gerard Carey as Thènardier:

Pure raucous chaos throughout all his scenes. I’ve seen him multiple times performing with both casts this year and his master of the house with the new cast was just perfection: so much gusto and obnoxiousness. Just amazingly crazy character and vocals.

Josefina Gabrielle as Madame Thènardier:

She was so funny. Comedic timing was perfect and the way she played with her voice to add emphasis and accents on different phrases and words was just wonderful.

Jordan Shaw as Enjolras:

From clips I’ve seen of him, I didn’t go into the theatre expect me to like his performance; but it was probably my favourite all round performance of enjolras this year - high praise coming from some so obsessed with the character. Yes, there were times when his vocals weren’t my favourites but his voice blended so well with the ensembles and the way he acted was so clear and passionately beautiful. He had a wonderful idealistic sensitivity to him and because of that his vocal didn’t matter as they fit the character as whole so well. Would love to go and see him again!

Bart Lambert as Grantaire:

One sentence…

Depressed teletubbie got drunk and ate too much sugar…

Hilarious performance of grantaire with so much bouncy energy (I could totally see his R and Lulu-Mae’s cosette being friends). He was serious when he needed to be but when he didn’t he fully explored the light hearted side of R. There’s was a nice bond between him and Gavroche and he had a heartbreaking reaction to Gav’s death. Because I was close to the stage I could hear him whispering stuff like ‘he’s just a kid’ and ‘no no no’ while cradling gavroches body. He was also so careful when laying gav down and took so long to arrange his body with so much care. Unlike Steven Hall and Connor Jones his vocals were very sung and didn’t have as much grit to them, which I loved because it matched the playful energy he had. My only criticism is that he didn’t have the best chemistry with marius but that maybe due to Benjamin being on and having not had a chance to develop it yet.

Cameron Burt as Feuilly:

He had an absolutely wonderful performance and worked so well with Jordan Shaw as Enjolras. His vocals were also very strong: well pronounced and not over sung. I desperately need to see him on as Enjolras as he’s a cover for that role.

Overall opinion on whole cast:

The ensemble was wonderful: I do think they need a bit more time to properly gel seamlessly but overall they did work well together. It was a very level overall good performance with no one being significantly better than anyone else so it felt very complete. The stupid barricade still annoys me but I’m growing to like the new production more and more as I go to see it. I don’t think it will ever be as good as the previous one but when you have a good cast and know the show well it’s not the end of the world.