#I suspect the slog will start slogging next book

[onaperduamedee]

Notes on The Path of Daggers

Oh, Shienar leaders reunion! Does it mean we will at last get some Lan content? They don’t seem to be ready to support Rand though.

Verin is the very definition of a bad bitch. She perceives so much more than she lets on and I love that she clearly has her own agenda. Black Ajah? Spy? I have no idea what her deal is, but she seems to be on a level with Cadsuane and Moiraine when it comes to acting as a free agent. 

Birgitte is smaller than Aviendha and Elayne? Lies! Lieeeeeeees!

"You can ask or demand anything of me, but never to let you die without trying to save you. The day you die, I die." I am in agony. The way this is both about Nynaeve and Moiraine, but in a different light, with the trust and love placed in Nynaeve and the acknowledgement of betrayal by Moiraine. Blood and ashes, this storyline is going to hurt.

Not liking Aviendha's thoughts on women and softness, all the more ridiculous that Birgitte is right here, with her love of dresses and feminity despite being very strong. I get this is Aviendha’s POV, but this is only the hundredth time we got such an angle and I am tired.

On one hand, I understand Nyn and Elayne not trusting the Aes Sedai with guarding the Black Ajah, because there has to be one or two BA sisters in their ranks. On the other, they don't have the best track records with decision-making and risk assessment, so I will be surprised if Ispan doesn't escape eventually, with casualties at that.

I am rooting for the Kin so hard. Please, let them be Aes Sedai and prove themselves, they are so cool. Like with the noblewomen and grandmothers being integrated into the Tower by Egwene later on, this storyline gives me so much joy.

Nynaeve ready to yell at the Aes Sedai despite them not doing anything for once is so funny. For all their flaws, Aes Sedai are no worse or better than other groups, especially with all the parallels to the Aiel. I’d say it was the most fun these chapters had been because the conflict between the four groups is getting repetitive.

I love Aviendha worrying about the gholam when we know for a fact Seanchan are invading at this very moment. She is a trouper though and I love her lion-heart.

Elayne and Aviendha giving strong "she is so smart and brave and beautiful" New Spring Siuan and Moiraine vibes. They legit have more chemistry together than either with Rand.

Yeah, still not a fan of Nyn and Elayne relying so much on their strength to intimidate or gain the upper hand on others. It's not something they picked up only from Aes Sedai either considering Verin's words at the beginning of The Dragon Reborn. It's just... You know the way people with power are terrified of weaker people enacting on them the same violence because they cannot conceive of a world without a power imbalance? Yeah that.

What I gather from all those new channelers being insanely powerful, even more than Nynaeve, is that as the Age comes to an end, more channelers in line with the Age of Legends will reveal themselves in different nations.

People with cloud dancing abilities and the Windmistresses are doing unaided what required ter'angreal in the AoL? Very interesting. As with the bonding weave, I love the nuance in picturing evolution as non-linear, with gains and losses, particularly in light of all the history and scientific advancement lost to time.

RJ's insistence that Aiel are tanned white people instead of the people of color they should have been will never stop being bizarre. I know they are fantasy Irish/Scottish people, but the fact they are uniformly described as tanned blond white Californians is throwing me off.

See, one of my issues with Elayne that is standing out this book is the way she often seems to me an Egwene stand-in: her arc about being Queen but having to prove it is too similar to Egwene’s at this point. They’re not the same obviously, but too closely related, especially considering how different the boys are from one another.

I am glad that Caire and the Sea folk took the helm with the Bowl of winds because otherwise, it would have been super White savioury of Elayne to lead. It will be such a bloody incredible scene on-screen, I cannot wait.

Alise in the long line of very competent working-class women without which whole institutions would crumble. Also described like an avalanche btw. Yes, I miss Moiraine.

The Seanchan attack and Elayne unraveling the gateway was so bloody epic. Elayne the mad scientist remains my favourite Elayne. I love the unease in the Seachan camp when they incorrectly conclude from this that their enemies have weapons of mass destruction (which they do, in the form of sa’-, ter’- and angreal, but this was an accident.)

Oh, Perrin is crossing paths with Morgase's party! I am digging this. This is going to be interesting, with Morgase hiding her identity and so many leaders traveling with Perrin, a rebel leader himself.

Here's the thing, if you send away Berelain and Anoura, gag Seonid and only use the Wise Ones as watchdogs, you're left with Perrin and Morgase and they just are not interesting enough by themselves to keep my attention.

Is Lini forcing Morgase to marry Tallanvor? Why are old women so creepy in these books?

I love Faile. I don't love that her presence prompts gender essentialism to worsen every time in Perrrin’s thoughts. I will never get used to it. I hate being yanked out of the story because of this.

Faile and her Cha Faile. Her being a shrewd politician and general, seeing the potential of eager and devoted young Cairhienins who are likely expert practitioners of Daes Dae’mar. She’s genuinely a good leader, like Berelain or Egwene, and I love her political acumen. 

In an ideal Lubitschean Wot Universe, Faile and Perrin are married, Aram is Perrin’s boyfriend and Berelain is Faile’s girlfriend.

Oh boy, Tallanvor and Morgase is almost as bad as Siuan and Gareth. Stop forcing women in a vulnerable mental state to hook up with guys they depend on for survival.

The Aiel and indentured servitude… There’s a whole discussion to have about making prisoners apprentices in this way, as opposed to willingly like Aviendha and Egwene. The Aes Sedai are not Aiel, this is not ji’e’toh.

About Alliandre: just another powerful woman pledging to a man, nothing to see here. 

That said, the discussion between Alliandre, Faile, Berelain and Annoura? So good. RJ writes bloody entertaining negotiating scenes, truly.

Ah yes, the four horsemen of the fantasy apocalypse :

Elayne - nepotism

Perrin - feudalism

Aviendha - indentured servitude

Rand - imperialism

Between the Cha Faile, the Rebels outside Cairhien with Darlin and Caraline, Mat's army, there is a strong recurring theme of Tear and Cairhien coming together under the Dragon's banner and it makes Siuan's association with Moiraine all the more thematically relevant, just saying.

Okay, maybe I should pay more attention to Moridin if he is Nae'blis. Who the heck is he? Also Cyndane? I love this game of whack-a-Forsaken.

I don’t say this enough, but the Forsaken are incredibly amusing in a Grand Guignol way.

Despite the initial Manicheism, the granularity of evil and good in these books is really fascinating: there are a million individuals on each side and in between, pursuing their own goal, or a common one but in a vastly different way.

Also, I can't bemoan the stupidity and lack of organization of the antagonists, particularly the Forsaken, without recognizing that most of the heroes are pretty incompetent themselves: they all have their own agenda and interest, their personality gets in the way all the time, they absolutely suck at communication and negotiation, and their plans rarely work as it should. The ta'veren factor does a lot of work here. Don't get me wrong, it is generally fun to read, on both sides, but yeah, sheer luck and lots of foolishness.

Aielman standing in the streets staring at the pouring rain and Cairhienin noblewoman laughing with her hood down under the rain, I send you paper kisses because that was charming.

A bit disappointed we did not get the first encounter between Sorilea and Cadsuane, but I really enjoyed their conversation. At least Sorilea is realizing the Aiel are as much help as the AS and that Rand needs a different kind of support than what they are providing.

Rand chapter finally!

And unfortunately it's one of those "group A disagrees with group B with the support of group C although group C hates group A while group D glares at group A sneering at C for agreeing with them, and B silently mocks group D for being so careless" chapters. It’s a lot of mannerisms and opposing POVs. It doesn’t really add much to the story beyond colouring and at this point in the conflicts, we don’t really need more colouring.

Adored the conversation with the Asha'man afterward though. They’ve gained a lot of individuality now that they’re away from Taim, which has to be intentional. Getting really worried about Rand’s symptoms and the possibility they are indeed starting to lose their mind.

I wonder if like healing stilling, healing the weather required both male and female channelers, and in their haste, the circle only fixed the weather partially because that’s a LOT of snow after a scorching summer. All the trees are going to die out of shock.

I love Egwene so bloody much. And Siuan. And Leane. I love their machinations, their mutual support, their chemistry, their strength, their flaws, their ridiculousness, their humanity, their everything.

Siuan knowing the history of the Tower by heart fills me with so much love. I feel so emotional about the contrast between the contempt some sisters hold her in for breaking the Tower and the devotion Siuan still has for the Tower, the love she has for who she is, an Aes Sedai. They get deserved crap for their stupid hierarchies, their arcane rules, their inflexibility and isolation, but the White Tower was created with laudable goals at first: preserving humanity and knowledge. They are not soldiers, they were meant to be custodians; seeing someone like Siuan, who embodied the Tower and broke it and herself in trying to push it in another direction… UGH. It reminds me of loving a country, a community, and hating it so much, hating what it taught me, what it broke in trying to preserve itself, and believing that maybe it would be easier to destroy it entirely, and still there is some good here and it deserves, perhaps, to remain and be changed. 

Yeah, I love Siuan so much. Egwene is right: Siuan is so incredibly strong.

Shit, Aran'gar killed Selame? Sheriam is spying? For who? Shit shit shit. The Salidar lot is in so much danger.

I knew Elayne and Nynaeve's bargain with the Sea Folk was pretty much BS. They promised the moon knowing it was near impossible for Egwene to fulfill the bargain. Knowing Egwene, she will rise to the challenge.

I would die if Egwene puzzling out Siuan is in love with Gareth became in the show Egwene understanding Siuan is not merely mourning a co-conspirator in Moiraine but also a lover. 

Talmanes feeling Mat needs him from hundreds of miles? Oh that's gay

Whatever possesses RJ to constantly interrupt charming bonding scenes or intense plotting schemes with the most childish romantic nonsense? Women and men alike lose braincells at the most inconvenient moment. It’s killing the vibe each time.

Everything about the way Egwene prepared and navigated the negotiations with the Andorans, and then the Aes Sedai? Phenomenal. I was on the edge of my seat.

I'm not gonna lie, going from blood-pumping Egwene chapters to mostly static Elayne and Rand chapters is underwhelming.

Still, there is an extremely uneasy and frantic energy to this particular fight around Ebou Dar. Perhaps it’s Rand’s extreme confidence in the Asha’man. Perhaps it’s the clear instability spreading through the male channelers. Perhaps it’s the grueling Guerilla approach to this battle. Perhaps it’s the oddness of the One Power in the mountains. I am really enjoying this tbh.

The Asha'man are much, much too eager to fight Aes Sedai and Taim has too great a hold on them. I don’t like that Rand’s distrust is caused mostly by LTT’s voice but he is right to suspect Taim’s influence on the Asha’man.

Are we ever going to find out what the deal is with the One Power for women and men near Ebou Dar? I love the concept of corrupted places where physics or magic doesn’t work as it should.

Liandrin?! In the hands of the Seanchan? What is going on?!?

Why is Lews Therin quoting that Prussian general? Is Prussia canon in the Wheel of Time univers?

THEY STOLE THE OATH ROAD And Pevara and Seaine discovered how to undo the Oaths? Oh, that is really interesting. REALLY interesting, particularly after Siuan’s discussion with Egwene.

Oh my god, if you order an Aes Sedai to lie under an oath, she can die choking?!?

OoooooooOooooooooOoooooh they are recruiting Salidar's spies to hunt the Black Ajah! This is so good. What an exciting development! 

I got chills when the last Aes Sedai who discovered Seaine and Pevara refused to swear she was not a Darkfriend. I suspect it can’t be that easy though. Still really hyped for this storyline.

As I said, Asha’man = incel army. Of course, they would capture Aes Sedai and use compulsion to make them love them.

"Maybe Elayne had taught him." In a week while making out in Tear? Rather than Moiraine who spent months with him in the Waste cramming his head with 20 years' worth of experience as Blue Ajah? Or Bashere who has been working with him to handle no less than 4 different armies begrudgingly working together? Or the Aiel who are the fantasy Sparta culture? Come on, Min, I know you're trying very hard not to get jealous, but you're being foolish and as Rand’s primary advisor currently, you cannot afford to be foolish.

Cadsuane joking she expects the Asha'man to juggle made me cackle. She is the definition of the bigger bully.

Callandor requires men and women to work? Nice, I was hoping to get a sa’angreal like this soon. Seeing Rand navigate people he doesn’t trust while working with them is also particularly exciting.

Oh, they killed Adeleas... Vandene crying out loud for her sister after the others were sent away was actually heartbreaking. I do like that DF are still a serious threat; not a given with the number of actors now at play. Elayne and Nynaeve were faaaaar too trusting of the dozens of strangers they took up at the farm.

Rand and the Asha'man... Man, that was brutal. The madness was bound to catch up to them, but this, coming right after a near defeat, deaths caused by Rand and a betrayal, is absolutely harrowing. I love that we got Rand talking about consulting Nynaeve to cure the taint beforehand, giving them some hope, and then Rand invokes Nynaene to provide the only cure available for now to Fedwin. It’s so bleak, I love it.

Not liking one bit the idea that women like Nynaeve and Faile need to be dominated by their husbands to have a happy marriage. Not one bit.

We didn't get unnecessary female nudity in a while and now we get it for ALL our ladies. Amazing. At least, my gal Berelain escaped. 

The finale was a little jarring in the sense that we needed to catch up with everybody suddenly and still got nothing on Mat and the Shienaran alliance, but before that I really enjoyed the bleakness on Rand’s side. Reminded me of New Spring. I do wish we spent more time on the aftermath of the attack Rand in the Sun Palace and the first mercy killing, but I suspect it will be explored next book.

Verdict: two books into the slog and I am cruising so far. My biggest complaint is the similarities in power struggles between Rand, Egwene and Elayne, the three big threads here: for several chapters, each is trying to handle groups at daggers drawn, with varied degrees of success. It’s obviously the unifying theme, but the story would have benefitted from a serious arc for Mat and Nynaeve for breathers, as both are generally entertaining wildcards. Nynaeve had practically NOTHING to do outside of her beef with Alise, which is frustrating because I’ve been unsatisfied with her arc for a few books now. Hopefully, she’ll get one with the research to clean saidin. 

Yet, as much as I absolutely see the slackening in the narrative, with several chapters depicting characters riding and disagreeing and nothing else, I appreciate the depths added by Egwene’s moves, Rand losing his grip and the overcorrection of the weather. It’s not much, true, and this book will likely be merged with another for TV, but it certainly wasn’t as slow as certain parts of TEotW or LoC. I was deeply moved by certain parts (the Asha’man, Siuan and Egwene, Vandene and Adeleas), which makes this book automatically better than others in the series.

[a-queer-little-wombat]

So, long ago and far away, in my freshman year of college, I went to a small liberal arts university. I was studying engineering, which has own set of stories, but one of the lasting things I remember about that year came from a class I wasn't even taking. The professor of whichever higher-level English class it was that read Moby Dick had a tradition in which, during the end of finals week, he would gather his students in a lecture hall and they would take turns reading chapters of Moby Dick out loud until they reached the end. Every year, they would start at about 8am and typically finished at about 8am the next morning and then go out for breakfast at IHOP. Everyone there at the end was invited to come, and he would buy breakfast for any student who stayed the entire time.

I had never read Moby Dick, but the *concept* was irresistible to weirdo freshman who still could stay up all night me, so I showed up sometime about or after midnight. For quite a while, I just listened - I didn't even have a copy of the book with me! Fortunately, when the turn to read came around to me, someone lent me their copy ... and I did stay late enough to go get some IHOP.

It's actually kind of compelling as a story, when listened to.

Several years later, I finally got myself a copy and dragged myself through reading the whole thing. It's a slog to read in print. I suspected at the time that the *story* was interleaved with a How To Whaling volume - so if you're ever considering reading it, just skip every other chapter that's whaling tutorial.

[nikkywrites]

The Superhero Next Door // Part One

Summary: Starla moves in with her sister. Things get better. Then she notices her new neighbor and not in a good way.

Based off this prompt/idea by @caffeinewitchcraft

This one has been reworked a bit. Still the same story though, just fixed how Starla notices Duke, basically. That’s the biggest change.

*****

"That would be a literal blessing," her sister says, sighing into the phone with hope that pierces through the static of low reception.

"Well," Starla sighs, hand on her hip, looking at the stacked boxes in her apartment, artfully ignoring the eviction notice laying on the kitchen counter. "I kind of don't have a place to live past Thursday, so I don't have much of a choice."

"Well, you're always welcome to come take the guest room."

Starla rubs the bridge of her nose. "I can't afford any rent, though."

"You don't need to pay rent, " Melissa insists, words garbled by the piercing sound of a crying baby. There's some rustling, sound muffled as she deals with the crying newborn. "You're my sister,” she continues, voice softer as she soothes the baby, practically cooing. "It's no problem and you'd be doing me a huge favor anyways, with the kids."

"Okay," Starla says, nodding to herself, like she has options and a choice. "Let's do it."

So she moves in.

It’s what’s best for both them, what with Starla’s apartment block being torn down to place a strip mall, and with Melissa having two new babies that she was raising solo. This was better for both of them, and it would help restore their bond that had been neglected since they had both reached adulthood and thrown themselves into work and romance.

This was good.

Starla moves in easily, happy to be closer to her sister and niece and nephew, but missing the busyness of city life.

She’s a babysitter now. Glorified, with her lack of rent, and definitely overpaid, but still a babysitter.

It’s exhausting, so maybe not so much overpaid or glorified. Maybe she had underestimated the amount of work and attention two babies took.

Watching one baby is difficult, but two? It’s the only thing that fills her day, and it does a fantastic job of doing so. It takes time, and after only a few days, she’s become adept at holding them both at once and caring for both of their needs.

She’s becoming a good aunt, she thinks. A solid second parent to the tiny babies who will never meet the man tied to them by blood. It’s hard, but she loves them and that makes it worth it.

It doesn’t take long for her to familiarize herself with the neighbors. 

Casey from down the block walks her two Shepherd mixes twice a day every day. Mat from across the street brings his sons to the park three days a week. Leslie jogs at six in the morning before work. Jake brought her a welcoming tin of muffins when he noticed that she’d moved in, a joint gift from him and his wife. Kay from the end of the road hosts a weekly hang out that she kindly sent her an invitation to alongside a welcome note.

None of them are who catches her attention, though. It’s Duke, who is her new direct neighbor who catches her eye. She’s never bumped into him or anything, but she’s acutely aware of his existence.

She’s-- she doesn’t mean to spy, but she’s sure that he’s no normal neighbor.

She’s fairly convinced that he’s a Super, actually.

No one in the neighborhood suspects, no idle gossip whispered when she questioned about the new neighbor who hasn’t bothered (or noticed) that someone new has moved into the house next door. He’s fairly secluded among everyone.

He doesn’t go to Kay’s hangouts. He’s just home to sleep, everyone says. He’s not a social guy. He does, though, travel into the city pretty often for hours at a time. Some of it is on a schedule.

Some of it is not.

Starla has... perhaps checked the news when he does, to see how often it lines up with city Super sightings, but it doesn’t enough for obvious eyebrows to be raised. But she knows that Supers don’t always go out in suits when they’re working, so it’s an iffy measurement from the start.

It doesn’t damn or clear him.

Not much would. But she’d find what she had to. If he was low-level, she’d be fine with it. It was the high tiers who couldn’t escape from their work. Who’s work followed them after they shrugged off the suit and the mask and the name.

It was fine if he wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t planning on outing him. She just needed to know if he was safe.

After she learned that, she’d leave him be.

It’s his fault for being obvious. He comes home bruised and battered from an office job. He has odd hours. He’s left for the city at night a time or two, speeding out of his driveway in a hurry. No one has ever been in his house. No one has said anything more then hello or good morning to him. He was a ghost. A picture of what it looked like when someone was trying to be invisible.

It was suspicious. It had her gut rolling in unease.

Scones are how she decides to start. it’s polite to bake goods for neighbors and scones are bland enough he probably won’t hate them. It’ll open the door of her getting closer.

The twins are napping when she gets the chance to start throwing the batch together. She hopes they sleep for the hour or so it’ll take for her to throw it in the oven because she’s starting it from scratch. They don’t, of course, or more specifically, Cassie doesn’t.

She abandons the bowl of unmixed powders with liquid poured over the top like a faulty volcano to scoop up the crying baby.  “Hey baby,” she coos, swiping a finger over a soft, velvet cheek as she bounces softly. “Whatcha crying for, huh?”

She settles fairly quickly, her large eyes drifting down. Carefully, Starla sets her back into the rocker and returns to baking, sacrificing time for silence. 

They sleep through the rest of mixing and shaping into triangle-esque blobs. It’s after she sets the timer that they wake again, and she’s quick to go over and give them another feeding, and a diaper change for Benjamin.

Caring for them both had seemed impossible, at the beginning, but now it was as easy as breathing.

Her life is turning around, rising from the bland routine it had fallen into. A brightening comet that lights her night sky.

Things were much less stressful now. She enjoyed her day to day, which she didn’t before. She’d loved the city, but it hadn’t been kind to her and the eviction notice was just the straw that broke her. That sent her away. The suburbs were nice, too, though, and she was close enough to the city to be satisfied.

It was safer, too.

Or, it was statistically. She’d never suspected her apartment floormates or coworkers to be Supers. Now she was determined her neighbor was one. Now she was worried about it.

Back at her apartment, a ripped-up street was just another Thursday. Rubble blocking a road was normal. It hadn’t disturbed her too much. Life was boring.

It wasn’t now. And not just because of the twins. She had a mystery, too.

She likes mysteries. Puzzles and games and books. She likes to guess who the villain is, in thriller stories and in mystery books. She guesses right sometimes and she doesn’t on others, but she likes attempting. At trying to slot together all the little clues and dissecting the truth from a heap of mostly inconsequential evidence.

As a kid, she’d wanted to be a police officer. Her dad had watched a lot of crime shows and she’d liked watching them fit pieces together to bring justice. It looked fun, when it was on TV.

Then she grew up. She learned that police work was a lot more boring and restricting than the shows made it out to be. Cops were just second-rate overlooked heroes. They got all the paperwork. None of the glory. They did the stakeouts and the waiting. All of the parts that were a slog. Heroes got the benefits. Her fire had been snuffed out. but she still loved the idea of it.

She still likes solving mysteries. And even if she didn’t-- she doesn’t like the idea of someone dangerous living next to her family. 

What if a fight followed him home and a Super battle broke out? If Supers started fighting that close, there would be nothing she could do.

It was best she figured out what kind of Super her new neighbor was . If she was lucky, he was just a nonpowered, try hard vigilante. Which was kind of illegal, but not particularly dangerous. But that was if she was lucky. If she was unlucky, then they were in danger just because of their proximity to him.

Living in the city, she’d seen too many new reports of mangled office buildings, smoking apartment buildings, has seen too much of the wreckage fighting leaves behind on the streets and the buildings and the people. It had so much impact on people. It was a very destructive thing to happen.

There was a reason why most of city budget goes to upkeep and repair. Super battles break everything and because they’re doing good, they don’t face punishment.

Starla is pretty indifferent to Supers. She knows that they’re expensive and destructive. They’re good too. Now she just doesn’t want that near her sister and the babies.

She was going to figure out just how much danger they were in. Exactly how much.

She was going to figure out Duke’s secret identity.

*****

Done! This one was a struggle to do for some reason. I think it’s a tad better now, though.

[lizziestudieshistory]

Books of 2021 - Words of Radiance by Brandon Sanderson

It’s probably time to admit what is probably my most unpopular opinion about the Cosmere: I hate Words of Radiance. It’s the book I have to slog my way through to get to Oathbringer. Part of my dislike is heavily linked to my disillusionment about Shallan… However, I do think the big moments in this book – most notably the duel scene and final battle – cloud people to the genuine faults in it. It is a technical step up from The Way of Kings, but there are huge parts of this book that are unnecessarily slow to read and there is a huge thematic drop that starts in this book that I cannot forgive Sanderson for. I also dislike a lot of the individual plotlines, major characters are barely in this book, and a lot of the big reveals/developments feel unearned because they had to happen in this book so we could get on with the more important conflicts in the rest of the series.

This review has spoilers for The Stormlight Archive, you have been warned.

Structure and Plot

I don’t want to touch on the structure too much because a lot of my niggles for The Way of Kings continue into Words of Radiance. All of these books have too much fat around them – the interludes continue to feel irrelevant; the main bulk of the book is drawn out slightly too much; and the flashbacks are merely okay, they haven’t reached the level of Oathbringers’ flashback sequence yet. However, Sanderson does make some serious improvements in this book.

Shallan, our focus character, does have a much more interesting backstory and the flashbacks have slightly more bearing on the present-day plotline. However, for me, they lose interest on subsequent rereads and there are slightly too many of them that don’t add any new information once we’re aware of how terrible her family life is. They are an improvement on Kaladin’s, and I like them a lot more, however, considering how much we STILL don’t know about Shallan (as of Rhythm of War) Sanderson could have utilised them better in this book. Saying this, I do remember really liking the flashbacks on my first read, so I really do think my current negativity is a product of having read this book one too many times? I’m going to hold off on Sanderson for a couple of years after this reread so (if I remember) I’ll come back and reevaluate how I feel about Shallan’s flashbacks with a fresher eye.

Sanderson also gets us into this book a lot quicker than he did in The Way of Kings. Jasnah’s prologue is one of my favourites in the series so far, and part one does hit the ground running. It sucks the reader back into the world, refamiliarised with the essentials of the story, as well as introducing the next leg of the plot. It’s a fabulous introduction and it’s one of the strongest first parts in the series as a whole.

Unfortunately, the pacing doesn’t reflect this strong introduction – once Shallan loses Jasnah’s guidance, and Kaladin is established as Dalinar’s guard the book dramatically slows down. Kaladin’s chapters, while slow, have some differentiation to break them up with Bridge Four learning how to be guards. Shallan’s turns into an interminable slog across the countryside. One of the things I loathe in fantasy are the long journeys with nothing going on – sometimes they can be done beautifully. For example, I love Sam and Frodo’s section in The Two Towers, but Shallan’s is just painful. Sam and Frodo’s journey is so fascinating because of the internal struggle they are going through (together and separately), it’s atmospheric and powerful because of its character work. Yes they are trying to get to Mordor, but the goal isn’t what matters here – it’s whether Sam and Frodo can survive the journey, and what state they will be in when they get there.

Shallan’s journey is clearly a way to get her to the Shattered Plains in the right circumstances and it shows. We’re journeying from A to B, with a few obstacles thrown in. There is some development from Shallan as she learns the basics to being a conwoman from Tyn. However, again this is something thrown in to keep Shallan’s point of view interesting while she’s riding through the countryside. It’s not vital character growth that can only be done at this point in the journey. If we’re going to slog it through the wilderness there needs to be a point to it that can only be learnt from showing such a long journey – otherwise cut down Shallan’s chapters in this section and only show the necessary highlights, while hinting at the longer journey through her internal reflections.

I’m also just going to throw out that I was bored in part three – the end of this part is phenomenal, and contains the famous duel scene with Adolin and Kaladin, which is one of the highlights of the whole series. However, the build up to this scene is repetitive and a bit dull in places? It’s possibly because I’m not a huge fan of Shallan and Kaladins’ arcs in this book. I’ve never liked the Ghostbloods plotline (and it’s only gotten worse with the Thaidakar reveal in Rhythm of War), Shallan’s romance with Adolin is slightly cringey, and I’m going to have a rant about the Kaladin/Moash conflict when I get to writing about Kaladin’s character. The main plotlines in this book are a bit…painful? They scream filler for a lot of part three – I don’t necessarily mind it; I actually like the conflict between Adolin and Kaladin because it does make sense for both characters. It doesn’t do much except build a camaraderie between them and develop their characters, but there are a few too many scenes of it, along with the painful romance scenes. Sorry, romance isn’t Sanderson’s strong point…

Prose

Still painful, still don’t love it. I do think there is a slight improvement between The Way of Kings and Words of Radiance because there aren’t any egregious moments that stand out to me in this book. Some moments, such as Kaladin’s first flight through the chasms and then when he’s flying with Syl over the Shattered Plains, even stand out as highlights for Sanderson’s writing – I really feel Kaladin’s joy and sense of freedom. There are some lovely moments in this book, and it does mark an improvement in Sanderson’s writing style! However, I’m still not a fan of Sanderson’s prose as a whole, it still feels clunky in places, and I’d prefer it to be a little bit more refined. This is very much a personal preference complaint though, as I stressed in my The Way of Kings review.

Magic System

I should probably discuss Sanderson’s magic system in the Stormlight Archive at this point, especially as it’s becoming more and more relevant as we continue into the series.

So, for those of you who are reading this without having read the book (why?!), Stormlight is dominated by a hard magic system called Surgebinding. Human Surgebinders (I’ll probably discuss the Singer’s surgebinding abilities in a later review) are members of one of the ten orders of the Knight’s Radiant: Windrunners, Skybreakers, Dustbringers, Edgedancers, Truthwatchers, Lightweavers, Elsecallers, Willshapers, Stonewards, and Bondsmiths. Each order possess the ability to manipulate two of the ten surges using Stormlight to power their abilities:

Windrunners: adhesion and gravitation

Skybreakers: gravitation and division

Dustbringers: division and abrasion

Edgedancers: abrasion and progression

Truthwatchers: progression and illumination

Lightweavers: illimitation and transformation

Elsecallers: transformation and transportation

Willshapers: transportation and cohesion

Stonewards: cohesion and tension

Bondsmiths: tension and adhesion

They also gain magical armour and weapons known as Shardplate and Shardblades, although when each order gets their plate and plate depends on the order and spren/nahel bond. The order of the Radiant will depend on what oaths they swear and what type of spren they are bonded to:

Windrunners: honorspren

Skybreakers: highspren

Dustbringers: ashspren

Edgedancers: cultivationspren

Lightweavers: cryptics (“liespren”)

Elsecallers: inkspren

Willshapers: lightspren

Stonewards: peakspren

Bondsmiths: the Stormfather, Nightwatcher, or the Sibling (I don’t think we have a spren category for these three)

In Words of Radiance, we get the most insight into Windrunners and Lightweavers through Kaladin and Shallan, respectively, so I’m going to focus on these orders. This does actually work well because the Windrunners and Lightweavers can represent the two “styles” of orders quite well, each one being fairly structured or esoteric respectively.

Kaladin’s Windrunner powers are the most stereotypical magical ability – using gravitation Kaladin can fly, well technically fall in any direction, but the effect is the same. We see him using his powers to soar through the skies above the Shattered Plains, and run on walls. The effect is incredibly cinematic to read (although I suspect it would look ridiculous if poorly adapted into a visual medium) and enhances Kaladin’s status as an ‘action hero’. His other ability, adhesion, is slightly less dramatic – at least when it’s used straightforwardly. He can stick things together, or draw objects towards something else, including people, with magical superglue.

However, Kaladin’s, and the rest of the Knights Radiants’, powers are connected to the oaths he swears and his bond with Sylphrena (Syl). The Knights are granted the ability to surgebind and control their powers through 5 oaths, each order has different oaths but the first is universal: ‘Life before Death, Strength before Weakness, Journey before Destination’. In Kaladin’s case his oaths are connected to protecting others, which does slightly excuse Kaladin’s “saving people thing” and inability to let it go if people he cares about die. Whether Kaladin keeps his oath depends on whether Syl, his bonded Honorspren, best friend, and a tiny piece of divinity in her own right, agrees whether he is keeping them in spirit – something we explore at length with Kaladin’s plotline in this book.

Shallan’s Lightweaver powers are also incredibly visual, especially as she spends all of this book focusing on illumination, which gives her the ability to shape Stormlight into realistic illusions. Her abilities are particularly useful for subterfuge and lies as Shallan can use them on herself to change her appearance, or on their own to make it appear as if something is there when it’s not. Her other ability – soulcasting, the surge of transformation – still hasn’t been explored as of Rhythm of War. Soulcasting changes one substance into another, but exactly how it works and the extent of its power is still uncertain. However, from what we’ve seen through Jasnah, who also has the ability, it is overpowered and very cool.

Shallan’s oaths are less obvious than Kaladin’s and it’s hard to tell what oath she’s on by the end of the book – although this is also heavily linked to Shallan’s backstory and developments in her character in later books,Shallan is definitely a non-standard Radiant! Her oaths, after the initial oath, are made up of truths about herself. She speaks her truths to her spren, Pattern, in order to progress as a Radiant. Her oaths also force her to develop as a person, which has been a painful process because Shallan has been lying to herself since she was a child and doesn’t want to admit what she’s done.

The magic system is clearly very complicated, and we still don’t know everything about it, six of the ten orders haven’t been explored through their specific books, and even the orders we have seen a lot from through our viewpoint characters are shrouded in mystery – I’m still not entirely sure what Bondsmiths do despite having the Bondsmith book (Oathbringer) because the order is so esoteric. It’s well drawn and compelling, especially as Sanderson uses the progression of the Knights as a mystery throughout the books. Despite not being that interested in hard magic systems the magic in this book is interesting and I really like the structure around the Radiants – it also makes for interesting discussion, debates, and Harry Potter style quizzes in the fandom, which is fun!

Characters and Plotlines

Kaladin, Syl, and Moash – Unfortunately, my new found love of Kaladin was tried in this novel because Kaladin REALLY gets on my nerves in Words of Radiance. It’s not because I disagree with Kaladin per se… I actually agree with a lot of Kaladin’s anger, resentment, and sense of injustice with the social system in Vorin/Alethi society. Kaladin has a right to feel angry and seek retribution for what was done to him, and Bridge Four.

However, Kaladin walks around with a massive chip on his shoulder in this book, particularly in how he talks to and thinks about Dalinar and his immediate family. His motivation I can understand and sympathise with, but the impression of ‘I’m so hard done to, the world is against me’ that Kaladin radiates in this book feels completely at odds with the reality of his situation. Yes, Kaladin has a right to be angry. Yes, he has a right to seek justice. But there is no reason he should be so personally antagonistic towards everyone because of their social position. He is in a position of power, he’s outside the social hierarchy to a large extent, and in control of his own life (and the lives of the ex-Bridgecrews). Kaladin is angry at everyone and everything, but he’s losing the justification for a lot of his resentment, particularly when it’s expressed towards Dalinar and his sons.

In particular I have an issue with Kaladin’s main plotline around Moash and the attempt to assassinate Elhokar. Aside from the fact I hate Moash, to the extent where Moash could be dropped from the books without resolution and I wouldn’t bat an eye (sorry Moash fans - I’ve never liked him…), this plotline just doesn’t feel right for Kaladin’s character. It actually feels like a betrayal of the character we got to know in The Way of Kings and continue with in Oathbringer/Rhythm of War. I can’t see a world where Kaladin Stormblessed is okay with murder or assassination.

Kaladin’s whole deal is honour and justice - justice as in what’s morally right (legality is another thing entirely!) He also wants to protect everyone, including Syl - Syl perhaps above everyone else as Tien is dead - but this plot is something she explicitly isn’t comfortable with and is concerned about. I CAN see a world where Kaladin pursues a plan to see Elhokar removed from power, but not assassinated. The argument about Elhokar’s removal being like removing a gangrenous limb (or whatever the exact metaphor was) doesn’t hold up for his character.

What makes this whole plotline worse is it doesn’t really lead anywhere, other than placing Moash on the opposite side to Kaladin in the upcoming war. All that we really get from it is confirmation that Kaladin is a Windrunner to the core (which we already knew) and Moash is on whatever side Kaladin isn’t because they’re foils for each other. However, the only real outcome of this entire 1,000 page plotline is Moash is maneuvered into position for his arc in Oathbringer, and Kaladin gets to swear his third ideal. Yet Kaladin’s perspective doesn’t radically change and quite frankly working out the third ideal could have been done in another way, without betraying Kaladin’s character for two thirds of a book. It was there to conveniently get a few characters where they needed to be for the next book, and to let Kaladin have another superhero moment. I love Kaladin superhero moments as much as anyone else - I just wish it wasn’t prefaced with this plotline.

One thing I really don’t understand - and is why I dislike this plotline so much - is why we’re stressing so much on a Kaladin-Moash friendship anyway. They don’t feel like friends! Honestly, this is a larger problem with Bridge Four as a whole - their friendship with Kaladin doesn’t feel earnt. Well no, Rock, Teft, and Lopen do. But the larger part of Bridge Four feels like they’re just there? They definitely feel like they’re friends with each other, but not necessarily with Kaladin. 

I’ve already confessed that I’m not the biggest fan of Bridge Four at the best of times because they feel like a sports team underdog narrative, which is honestly my worst nightmare of a storyline. However, I DO want to see Sanderson actually show Kaladin being friends with them, especially as they are such a huge part of his motivation to protect. We have one scene - the bar scene - with a few of them acting like a genuine friendship group. Yet this doesn’t make for a genuine friendship, we need more little moments throughout the book, including Kaladin. 

Sanderson does improve on the Bridge Four dynamic, Oathbringer and Rhythm of War make me feel like Bridge Four are genuine mates a lot more than Words of Radiance does. However, for this book we do need to see Kaladin and Moash as real friends, maybe even as close as brothers, for the Elhokar assassination plotline to work. But we don’t! It’s easier for me to believe Adolin and Kaladin’s friendship than Moash and Kaladin! And Adolin and Kaladin spend most of this book bickering…

I think the real issue with this plotline is the execution. The way Kaladin’s character has been established, the lack of page time spent on Bridge Four as a whole and Moash in particular, and ultimately small outcomes for this plotline makes it feel tedious and slightly pointless. Sanderson needed to increase the REAL stakes - there was no way Kaladin was really going to lose his status as a radiant, just for narrative reasons - and work on the emotional impact. We need to believe Kaladin would really go through with the assassination, and his friendship with Moash before getting to this plotline. But as we don’t, or at least I don’t, feel this so Kaladin’s anger and it’s consequential plotline ends up frustrating me to the point where Kaladin is on thin ice for a lot of this novel.

Shallan - Okay, I’m going to address the elephant in the room later - the elephant is Shallan and the “Boots scene” if you weren’t aware. However, I do have a few other complaints about Shallan in this book. 

My main issue with Shallan, excluding the classism I’m addressing later, is that a lot of her character feels unearned (in this book specifically not as a general rule.) Not in the sense that her powers feel unearned, or her backstory isn’t believable (which I really love), but her achievements and relationships in Words of Radiance feel cheap. There are several moments that stick out to me as being particularly annoying.

Firstly, Shallan’s ability to control Tvlakv, Tyn, and the merchant caravans. Personally, I find this whole situation ridiculous when I think about it. I can go along with Shallan being able to get to the Shattered Plains miraculously meeting the slave trader who sold Kaladin. However, the fact Shallan is apparently capable of manipulating Tvlakv into taking her there with very little conflict is ludicrous. 

Shallan’s a shipwrecked, fairly middling noble with few resources at her immediate disposal, and a somewhat shy (if on later acquaintance bubbly) personality. It doesn’t make sense to me that she can have this influence over Tvlakv. Yes she’s been taught by Jasnah, and yes she does have some confidence/authority from her own position as a lighteyes. However, I’m really struggling to believe that, at this point in her story, she is a good enough actress to pull off an aloof lighteyed woman of significant enough rank to make Tvlakv do what she wants, especially when they’ve met in the middle of nowhere and Shallan has no other options. 

My second issue with this is with Adolin and Sabarial. Adolin also falls into my larger complaints about Sanderson’s romances, which are by far the weakest elements in any of his books. However, let’s start with Sabarial: 

So… Why the hell does Sabarial take her in? It makes ZERO sense. The ‘because it annoys Dalinar’ argument just doesn’t cut it, and neither does the ‘Sabarial is so weird’ perspective. As bonkers as he appears on the surface, we know Sabarial is a shrewd businessman. He’s lazy, but also a clever and manipulative leader, he doesn’t do anything without getting something in return. However, he doesn’t get anything from taking Shallan in except the satisfaction of getting one up on Dalinar? She doesn’t even do his accounts properly! It feels like an inconsistent character move that is only there to suit the storytelling and give Shallan more freedom, rather than demonstrate Sabarial's motivations. 

Okay Adolin is both better and worse than Sabarial. I can genuinely understand why Adolin likes Shallan so much and vice versa. I love the relationship they have once it’s been established - they’re good for each other (well I think Adolin is better for Shallan than she is for him, but the point stands.) However, it’s just so insta-lovey! They just meet and it’s like the heavens aligned, and a perfect relationship blossoms. It’s not quite that fast, but it’s pretty quick. And I just don’t buy that initial push into their bond.

I just find this initial meeting and first couple of dates unbelievable? It’s also very cringey… I can’t read some of their ‘banter’ because it’s painful for me at this point - I’m literally Kaladin whenever he has to watch them together. It’s the worst combination of Sanderson’s sense of humour, his poor romances, and annoyingly quirky characters. By Oathbringer I do think they have a good, settled relationship going on, but in this book I really dislike the way it’s sparked. (I’m also questioning why Adolin doesn’t seem to be mourning Jasnah and is going out on dates? It just seems off to me!)

Honestly, I could probably live with both of these aspects if it wasn’t for the final, most egregious issue I have with Shallan in Words of Radiance. Her discovering Urithiru.

I cannot stress enough how much I HATE that Shallan discovered the Oathgate on the Shattered Plains. The other successes feel unrealistic and unearnt but are ultimately small moments that would have to happen in some form - Shallan has to get to the Shattered Plains, and she has to meet/fall in love with Adolin. They’re irritating in how they’re executed but are ultimately okay instagatory moments.

On the other hand, finding Urithiru is one of the biggest moments in the whole series! It’s a significant part of the climax of the whole book! Without it we’d be reading a very different series in Oathbringer and beyond. But giving this huge moment to Shallan is completely out of proportion to the work she’s put in. Yes, Shallan has been looking for it for a few months, she wants to continue Jasnah’s work. However, Jasnah has been slaving away at this for YEARS, literally YEARS. Why does Shallan get this moment of triumph? It’s completely unwarranted for what she’s done, especially as she literally couldn’t have done it without Jasnah’s research. It just pisses me off that we seem to give all the credit to her when, in reality, she drew a map.

I think this annoys me so much because Sanderson went down the ‘kill the mentor’ trope for this book. There was actually very little reason to remove Jasnah in the way he did in Words of Radiance - Shallan could have easily been ignored by Jasnah once they reached Shattered Plains as she’s dealing with the high stakes politics/war effort with Dalinar, leaving Shallan to get embroiled with the Ghostbloods and Adolin. This would have left small amounts of time to see them working together on their scholarship, whilst also giving Shallan room to grow. Using ‘kill the mentor’ AND having Jasnah return from the ‘dead’ felt cheap the first time around (nevermind this one!) whilst achieving very little that couldn’t have been done in other ways.

Overall, I just think Sanderson overplays Shallan’s competence in this book. She’s still a 17/18 year old girl and he’s overdoing it with her abilities that aren’t related to her Radiant powers. The discoveries she makes don’t live up to her reality of character and I find it irritating.

I’ve said a lot that is negative about Shallan - I do get more positive after this book, so that’s something I guess? Nevertheless, I do want to say one thing I really love about Shallan and this book is her backstory. Apart from Dalinar, Shallan has the best backstory out of the main characters we’ve seen so far. The abuse from her father, casual cruelty and neglect within her family, and Shallan’s own darkness is fascinating to read about - if slightly distressing. I don’t have much to say about it as a whole because I think it’s very effective in adding a darker layer into Shallan’s character, as well as being a much more interesting story than Kaladin’s was in The Way of Kings.

Sanderson hasn’t quite mastered the interweaving of the flashbacks into the main storyline in Words of Radiance, then again Oathbringer was exceptionally good in comparison to all the other books for this aspect. However, the Words of Radiance flashbacks are a marked improvement and made for a great way to deepen Shallan’s character past the hints we’d seen in her chapters in the first book. I think it’s a very believable backstory. It’s probably the backstory that’s having the most ‘present day’ impact on the character in question (again Dalinar is a close second but Sanderson dropped the ball with his character growth in Rhythm of War.) Shallan’s past is fabulous and well utilised by Sanderson to make her grow - and I did want to say something positive about Shallan because, despite not liking her, I do think she is a very well written character.

Pattern - I want to say that, despite my apparent vendetta against Shallan, I REALLY love Pattern! He’s so annoyingly sweet, sincere, and genuine! Actually he reminds me a lot of one of my dogs, which might be a contributing factor to my enjoyment of him? Either way Pattern is one of the best spren characters we’ve met so far - he’s amazing!

Dalinar - I’m mainly here to complain there isn’t enough Dalinar in this book and I miss him… I understand why he isn’t as present in Words of Radiance as he is in The Way of Kings and Oathbringer. However, I do think the absence of both Dalinar and Jasnah - my two “problematic faves”, plus Kaladin feeling very off for most of this book, contributes to why I don’t like it very much. Their loss leaves a big hole for my personal enjoyment and attachment, especially on rereads. It’s a very personal problem and comes down to who you read the series for (and whether you like Shallan or not.)

Although, when we get one of the few Dalinar chapters I am ecstatic because they’re all particularly punchy in this book! Chapter 67 - Spit and Bile - when Wit and Dalinar discuss his nature as a ‘benevolent tyrant’ is one of my favourites in the whole series. It’s a real moment of character realisation for Dalinar and gives us some FANTASTIC food for thought before we get to the shocking revelations of Oathbringer.

Kaladin and Shallan, Class Status, and the Boots Scene

Okay, it’s time to address the elephant in the room – Sanderson dropping the ball on his discussion of class conflict. I loved Sanderson’s introduction of class conflict, it’s something I’m particularly interested in as a British person. However, he handles this theme badly in Words of Radiance and drops it completely in Oathbringer, and it was almost a deal breaker for me on this reread. I’m genuinely upset about it.

So, a lot of Kaladin’s arc in this book is centred around him learning to look past his (valid) anger over what was done to him by the lighteyes, and specifically Amaram. Of course, this can’t really be resolved in one book, and I do hope Sanderson listens to the very vocal criticism around his “resolving” of Kaladin’s anger by pressing Kaladin into siding with his oppressors without uncritically examining his choices in books 3 and 4 (as well as making him a de facto lighteyes himself). However, in Words of Radiance Kaladin is very much giving into his anger now he has the opportunity to live, rather than just survive, and Sanderson uses a lot of his interactions with Dalinar, Adolin, and Shallan to show him ‘not all lighteyes are bad’.

I do have issues with the way Sanderson handles this with Adolin and Dalinar - maybe Dalinar not so much because his character has A LOT of other issues going on and his interactions with Kaladin are very much structured by their positions in the army. Their relationship remains largely professional, especially in this book, and Kaladin is shown to trust and respect Dalinar and vice versa. Not to mention that Dalinar is actually prepared to listen to Kaladin’s version of events and do his best to get justice for Kaladin against Amaram - it’s just not an easy situation to prove or resolve, and it can’t be done in the way Kaladin wants.

As an aside for the rest of the series - I do have issues with Kaladin’s long term idolisation of Dalinar as a leader and ‘noble’ lighteyes. We haven’t really seen Kaladin’s reaction to the revelations from Oathbringer (the in-world version) which I do think would change the dynamic between them. After all, the revelations about Dalinar show him to be worse than Amaram in many respects! Kaladin should have a reaction to the morality around Dalinar’s actions in the past, even if he is trying to change, and not just continue as they did before. Although, this issue ties into the larger problems with the series structure and how Sanderson keeps all but dropping Dalinar’s character growth in every other book - we need to address the consequences for revealing his past to the world, particularly with his family and political allies, not just sweep them under the carpet as we did in Rhythm of War!

In contrast to Kaladin’s relationship with Dalinar, he and Adolin are on a slightly more (although not completely) equal level, as demonstrated by their bickering, banter, and eventual friendship. Their relationship begins with Adolin’s suspicions about Kaladin, Kaladin’s hatred for lighteyes, and a mutual grudge against each other, but their relationship grows into a very real friendship after the duel sequence. Their relationship is one that has never bothered me because they had that rocky start. They grow into a friendship of equals, their distrust turns into a genuine bond because they learn to trust each other as they prove to each other that they aren’t what they first assumed.

Most importantly, despite the rocky start, neither of them are actively dismissive of the other based on their social status - Adolin never demeens Kaladin for being darkeyed and once Kaladin gets to know Adolin better his hostility towards lighteyes in general vanishes as they established their personal bond. The only moment you can point to Adolin actively dismissing Kaladin due to his social status is in The Way of Kings when he asks him to take a message to someone in the prostitute scene (sorry I’m not looking up the page numbers.) Adolin never shows dislike of anyone because they are darkeyes and definitely does not toy with those of a lesser social status than himself. Yes, I do agree Sanderson could do a better job of using the relationships between Adolin, Kaladin, and Bridge Four to address some of the subconscious biases Adolin holds. But Adolin is never cruel or manipulative to those with less social status. 

This brings me to the big reason why I’ve come to loathe Shallan and the key reason I dislike Sanderson’s mishandling of the social class discussion. It’s not even necessarily Shallan herself that I dislike, it’s the way the narrative frames her character and Sanderson’s dismissal of Kaladin’s anger. I could look past most of the problems I’ve raised against Shallan if it wasn’t for the way Sanderson portrayed her in this book. I still don’t think she’d be my favourite character now but I wouldn’t feel the urge to close the book every time I have to read her chapters.

However, Shallan is probably the best example we have in a point of view character of the minor abuses of the lighteyes against anyone of a lower social class than themselves. I’m not talking about the major crimes committed by Sadeas or Amaram where they show a blatant disregard for life, but I am talking about the subtle abuses of those with wealth and rank against those less fortunate.

Throughout the series we see Shallan casually and absentmindedly manipulate, dismiss, and bully darkeyed individuals. She’s not maliciously cruel, but she is casually abusive. She treats people like Kaladin or the slaves she ends up owning as less than herself, especially when she first meets them. I’m not here to say this is Shallan’s fault per se. She has been taught to do so by her society, she’s been indoctrinated into a system that believes those with darkeyes are lesser than herself because the Almighty has deemed it to be this way. It’s an inbuilt, largely unconscious bias formed by the society she was brought up in. I’d actually like this character trait if Sanderson used it to challenge Shallan and make her grow as a character, like pretty much EVERYONE else has to do with aspects of their character! 

But Sanderson doesn’t. Shallan is given a free pass for toying with darkeyes or those of a lower dahn than herself and using them to amuse herself, or even for dismissing them. And it’s not just once she does it, it’s a systematic behaviour in this book. Now, I will admit most of the time this behaviour is used against...unsavoury characters - it’s usually people like Tvlakv, a slave trader, who often fall victim to Shallan’s manipulation. As an audience we don’t like Tvlakv and don’t really care if he’s manipulated and pushed around by Shallan because of his earlier treatment of Kaladin. We like Kaladin, we like Shallan, but Tvlakv? Not so much. But her casual dismissal of Tvlakv’s life and livelihood (putting my loathing of slavery aside for the moment) does show Shallan’s contempt of those beneath her in general.

The better case to demonstrate Shallan’s classism is in her scenes with Kaladin. There are two moments I could use to make my point: the infamous “Boots” scene in chapter 28 and the Chasm sequence in Part 4. In both these scenes we see Shallan, in a position of power, dismiss Kaladin - the “Boots” scene is by far the worst of these two, but the later sequence give us a better glimpse into the problems with Sanderson’s framing of Shallan’s and Kaladin’s past traumas. Shallan’s trauma is validated by this scene, but Kaladin’s very justified dislike and anger is dismissed by both Sanderson and Shallan. There is very little, leading up to the Chasm sequence, that suggests Shallan is a nice person to Kaladin and he has a lot of long-term trauma from mistreatment and abuse from lighteyes in general. Kaladin should be allowed to hold onto his resentment to some extent. Instead he is forced to get rid of it because of Sanderson’s inflexible belief that all anger, even righteous anger, is wrong.

I could elaborate on this scene but as this review is now ludicrously long, I’m going to stick to the Boots scene as it is simpler and I don’t really need to summarise the scene because it’s so well. The basics you need are: Shallan uses her gender, social position, and Kaladin’s relative lack of authority to humiliate him in front of his men and con him out of his boots. And it’s played for laughs.

There is a small hint later on that Shallan shouldn’t have done what she did when Kaladin confronts her about the incident outside the meeting of the Highprinces. Yet, a large part of this was Shallan saving face when she realised he is Captain of the Kholins’ guard and could pose a serious threat to her plans if he felt so inclined. She doesn’t express any remorse for her behaviour morally speaking, nor does she think that she shouldn’t mess around with people who can’t fight back. No, she’s remorseful because it’s convenient for her.

The 'Boots' scene isn’t funny. It’s a clear, if childish, display of the sheer amount of power lighteyes have over everyone socially below them. But Sanderson doesn’t depict it in that way. It’s just there as an amusing scene, and to get Shallan and Kaladin off on the wrong foot. Kaladin was just doing his job, grumpily, and didn’t deserve this treatment from Tyn or Shallan. Especially as Shallan very much knows that she ISN’T a conwoman and she really IS Adolin’s betrothed - she doesn’t need to impress Tyn, especially not this close to the Shattered Plains. So, she has little excuse for acting in the way that she did, and she really didn’t need to humiliate Kaladin in front of his men. As the audience, we know Kaladin’s command isn’t going to be affected because of his history with Bridge Four, and we know he can replace his boots. But Shallan doesn’t and it only shows how little she really considers the lives of those below her. It’s just casual cruelty that served no purpose except to entertain her and Tyn.

The fact that Shallan has never really been called out for this by the narrative/Sanderson, only by Kaladin and more socially aware fans, is outrageous. Anyone else would be - and everyone else has similar issues that narrative insists they work on and overcome. Yet Shallan is consistently let off for this behaviour. On the other end of this scene, Kaladin is forced into letting go of his anger and falling into line with the Kholins and other lighteyes, despite being systematically oppressed and mistreated by the lighteyes as a whole. Sanderson doesn’t allow Kaladin his anger and he’s punished for it throughout this book.

I will say that Kaladin isn’t completely in the right here, he did need to learn that not everyone is the embodiment of evil just because they are born into wealth and privilege. However, neither was it okay to dismiss the complex dilemma around Kaladin and class - where he needs to overcome his prejudice against everyone at the top of the social system, because there are good lighteyes, whilst still challenging that system - by making him a lighteyes. This doesn’t solve anything! His anger is valid and righteous. The Vorin social system does need a complete overhaul and Kaladin should be allowed to take the helm for that social movement - even if this arc isn’t at the forefront of the series (you know because we’re all slightly busy saving the world!) 

Sanderson shouldn’t keep allowing Shallan a free pass for deeply rooted and problematic behaviours and attitudes. It doesn’t need to be a major point of discussion, especially as the series has evolved and everyone is more concerned with staying alive. However, this is a huge series, there is space in it to address this issue every now and again in the background of the novel, particularly in non-combative plotlines. It would also help to change the perspective in moments like the “Boots” scene. Rather than showing these as just funny moments, take the time to show that they are symptoms of a serious problem in Vorin society and demonstrations of the casual abuses of power lighteyes can get away with on a daily basis.

At the end of the day, Kaladin is going to be fine - and he does drive me nuts with the huge chip on his shoulder that he has throughout Words of Radiance. His only real consequence from this scene is wounded pride, he’ll recover. However, Shallan shouldn’t be let off the hook for it either and Sanderson does need to pick up this plotline on the abuse of power and class in the series. He introduced a serious discussion on the dangers of a class-based society and it’s a shame (and irresponsible) to just drop it now. 

Conclusion

So I think we can all agree I don’t like a lot of this book. I’m in the minority here. There are some fantastic moments throughout Words of Radiance, but as a whole I struggle when rereading this particular entry into The Stormlight Archive. Sanderson drops the ball on one too many issues, and I really dislike Shallan here. I do get on with her slightly more in later novels - well in Rhythm of War - however, having such a heavy focus on her here makes it a slog for me to read.

Still, onward and upwards! Oathbringer is (probably) my favourite book in the whole series, although I’ve only read RoW once so that might change when I finish this reread. Hopefully I’ll have a lot more positive things to say in my next review - and I finally get to make my speech on why I love Dalinar and his backstory!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update

what's UP

I've spent most of July working through the new releases from Hot Book Summer, as I suspected that I would, and I'm still not done!

(so what the fuck was I actually reading during June? so glad you asked.)

Darling and Star Eater are up next, but in the meantime I've been reading...

The First Ten Years: Two Sides of the Same Love Story (Joseph Fink and Meg Bashwiner) - I'll freely admit that I was a little afraid this short, collaborative memoir would amount to nothing but a questionably concealed Welcome to Night Vale advertisement, because while WTNV holds a dear and nostalgic place in my heart, that would have been sort of a bummer. while it's impossible to totally detach Fink and Bashwiner from the audio drama that's become their livelihood (touring shows and associated stress becomes increasingly important as the years go by), it's not the centerpiece of their love story by a longshot. the couple took a novel approach to telling the story of their life together, each writing one chapter for every year they've been together and offering differing perspectives on the changes and challenges that each year brought. what results is a devastatingly sweet story about the highs and lows of staying in love after the initial falling, and if you're anything like me your heart will melt as soon as you see the dedication page.

¡Hola Papi!: How to Come Out in a Walmart Parking Lot and Other Life Lessons (John Paul Brammer) - as I said on my initial Hot Book Summer Post, I am frequently moved by the wisdom that John Paul Brammer offers his heartsick readers in the advice column that shares a name with his first book. While he's never shied away from sharing personal anecdotes there, here Brammer takes a meander look at the progression of his life, guiding readers from the homophobic bullying he suffered in middle school, his attempts to connect to Latino culture as a teen, coming out in college, and eventually suffering a bought of introspective weeping at one of the final Broadway productions of Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. the journey is seldom a smooth one, but Brammer handles it all with his typical gentle perspective laced with burst of sharp humor.

The Jasmine Throne (Tasha Suri) - beloved readers, you know I adore a fantasy novel that's filled with political machinations and is thick enough to use as a melee weapon. accordingly, I was very much looking forward to the beginning of Suri's second series. it ultimately proved to be a bit more of a slog that I had hoped, because the plot sprawls across the 500+ pages of the book at a pace that frequently slows all the way to sluggish, with a surprising number of POV characters and a plot that could have benefitted from a little further pruning. (get it, because the story makes heavy use of plant imagery and - ) it's not a BAD book by any means, and there's quite a lot I like about it: the interweaving of magic with history, culture, and spirituality; the extremely intriguing intrigue; the resolution of Malini's storyline with her recalcitrant ruler brother. and boy howdy, am I excited to see where Malini and Priyah's relationship is going to go as the stakes continue to heighten and they come into inevitable conflict. it's not a perfect start but it's a strong one, and I'll happily come back for seconds.

The Chosen and the Beautiful (Nghi Vo) - what a DECADENT little treat this was! as far as I'm concerning Nghi Vo can do absolutely nothing wrong; I will continue to line up to get my grubby little hands on anything she writes as soon as I can. this Gatsby retelling is centered on a queer and Vietnamese Jordan Baker who was adopted into a white family's wealth but not their privilege, hovering always on the edge of the elite and acutely aware of all the things that make her different. the setting is upgraded to a delicious Jazz Age awash with magic, where gay clubs hiding behind elaborate illusions and the wealthy mix their drinks with demon's blood. Vo's take on Jay Gatsby is an intense, simmering predator, not rendered an antagonist so much as a devious force of nature who throws Jordan's social circle into chaos as she is in the process of discovering herself and laying claim to her own kind of magic.

Why I'm No Longer Talking to White People About Race (Reni Eddo-Lodge) - Eddo-Lodge's book rounds up a concise history of systemic racism found in the UK - predominantly England, with examples here and there from Ireland, Scotland, and Wales). reading it from an American perspective was illuminating - yay, learning about a different culture! - and familiar in the most devastating way - boo, seeing the exact same tactics deployed against Black people in the context of a different culture. descriptions of police brutality leveraged against Black communities were particularly striking in their familiarity, and when I read that English police officers purposefully borrowed the term "mugging" from American crime reports to racialize robberies that took place on the street I was disappointed but definitely not surprised. no matter where you live, you'll be able to appreciate Eddo-Lodge's excellent job exposing the racism and inequality that so often lurk at the root of policies in policing, housing policy, social services to stack the system against the Black folks who are caught in it.

How to Be an Antiracist (Ibram X. Kendi) - I'm gonna level with you, gang: I haven't quite figured out yet what to make of this one. on the one hand, I was absolutely fascinated by the way Kendi was able to break down and examine racism in so many of the different forms it takes on. he's also provided one of the clearest definitions I've ever seen of the distinctions between race and ethnicity, a distinction that I've often felt unable to adequately articulate despite the fact that I'm a grown-ass man who should absolutely know better. and as noted queer, I really admire the way that Kendi owns up to having to actively learn and change his thinking in order to do better by Black folks who are gay and/or trans, and the props he gives to the Black queer feminists whose brilliance inspired that change. but Kendi also presents some ideas that I take a lot of issue with, namely the notion that an oppressed group hating their oppressors makes them just as bad, as if these two things are comparable forms of violence. with all due respect to Mr. Kendi I simply cannot fuck with that. I also know there's been a fair bit of criticism circulating about his work lately, and I fully intend to do some deeper digging into that to see if it's a lot of reactionary bitching about the boogeyman of critical race theory or, you know, anything that's actually worth listening to. tl;dr: I still trust this more than White Fragility.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 81: The Yule Ball

"Achoo!" Regulus sneezed painfully hard, his eyes watering so much they were squinted nearly shut, leaving him half blind as he tried to gaze blearily around to their new torture grounds. The bright sunlight was helping nothing, the nausea that still persisted through their trips along this place was as heavy as ever, and this time in particular they seemed in a truly bizarre area that he couldn't imagine had to do with Harry Potter's circumstances. It was a garden, a truly illustrious one that Professor Sprout would water at the mouth to see. He'd landed on a pile of Honking Heleniums that were vocally none too happy at him as he scrambled onto the smooth limestone pathway, and looked around to see Evans the Muggleborn in the field across from him gazing in just as much confusion at some purple flowers he couldn't identify.

Brushing pollen from his robes and looking around carefully, surely no one had forgotten the Devil's Snare, he found nothing immediately dangerous about their environment, but didn't quite relax either. The hedge walls were about a foot above his head, but he could see even taller ones in the distance as if they fluctuated in size, or perhaps the whole place was built on rolling hills, and behind him in the distance he could see where the trail began in the shadow of an odd building. It looked sort of like an abandoned, though clearly once very fancy hotel carved right into a mountain. The huge cracks along its surface made him leery though it would collapse any moment and start an avalanche, so he wasn't keen on inspecting it too closely. Rising clear above all of this was the mountain peak, the glinting sun shining down right on the whole place like a spotlight.

He turned back around to see Evans was cautiously making her way through the plants with the most dainty of steps, and waited patiently for her to make it to the pathway before deciding she wasn't going to die so turning to be on his way in search of the book.

"Hey, err, Black!"

He turned back with honest curiosity what she had to say to him, they'd hardly spoken this whole time, and he certainly had nothing to say to her.

"I, um, I don't recommend stepping back off the path, alright? There could be something more dangerous than Dancing Dahlias around here, wherever here is."

He nodded once to show he'd heard before going back off, hands deep in his pockets. He was surprised at himself he didn't care anymore what anyone would have said about how he handled that situation. That he should have cursed her, or at least reminded her that as the more superior wizard he needed no such warning, would have been the expected return, but now he had other things on his mind to worry about than whatever that Muggleborn got up to in this place.

He didn't have to travel much farther, taking two right turns before he found the book nestled in a patch of strange-looking plants. From what little he knew of them, he'd guessed they were foxglove and irises mixed together in a bright plum color to create whatever was strong enough to hold that hefty book aloft nearly up to his waist. Even though it was in arms reach, he wasn't stupid enough to try grabbing it from the strange plant, and instead he looked miserably at his bare hands. Even if he did summon the book to him, he wasn't sure he trusted the strange plant enough it wouldn't leave residue on his hands to cause some adverse effect. Then his eyes brightened with an idea, and he shucked off his shoes, slipping them carefully into his bag this time, almost enjoying the warmth of the path on his bare feet while he pulled off his socks and used them as makeshift gloves before getting the book in hand. He was quite proud of his ingenuity and didn't care how ridiculous he probably looked as he read out the chapter title, happy at least this was being gotten out of the way already.

Frank had landed in a very prickly shrub, and the more he twisted to get free, the sharper the leaves dug into his clothes. He could feel small nicks where several had already broken skin. He was cursing so frantically by the time the hand was being shoved in his face he didn't care if it was You-Know-Who offering him help out, he took it with gratitude as he was finally pulled free.

"Thanks," he said in relief, already scratching at a bead of blood traveling down his wrist as he looked up into the werewolf's eyes. He yelped so hard in surprise he backed right back into the bush, which gave him a very uncomfortable prod and sent him stumbling back forward right into him. Lupin caught him with a look on his face Frank's panicked mind couldn't process. Was he smelling the blood? Was it going to send him into a frenzy? He didn't know, he bloody didn't bloody know-

"Oi, Moony! What was all that then?"

Lupin rolled his eyes with an expression anybody in the world could have understood. 'This idiot, right?'

"What do you think it was Sirius? Frank petting the thing?"

Sirius Black was giving him a look that was somehow more dangerous than even the werewolf had yet given as he was scrutinized, and Frank took another automatic step back. Black was splattered in what appeared to be gray paint and was already clearly in a bad mood. Frank saw this as a perfect opportunity to make his escape. He meant to turn around and leave, and found himself face to face with a very large hedge, at least twenty feet high. Looking around properly now, he saw there was only one path away, where Black was standing, with only a cobbled limestone walkway leading towards the bramble bush he'd landed in. It still had a few delectable, succulent green fruits hanging lowly from it, resilient little thing it was.

"I don't suppose you two know where we are then?" He asked into the awkward silence, taking all self restraint not to scratch at his itchy skin, the blood quickly mingling with sweat that had nothing to do with the pleasant weather.

"Not one little bit," Lupin said pleasantly.

"If we find out, we'll let you know at the next landing," Black shot off with more venom than a Venomous Tentacula could hold as he spun around and stalked off, clearly expecting his friend to follow. Lupin watched him go with an exasperated look, gave him an awkward sort of smile, before jogging after him.*

Swallowing uncomfortably, and well aware whatever insane garden they were in could possibly have that as well, he made his choice and stood his ground as they turned the corner and left. Counting to thirty in his head, he then left the area as well, hoping Alice was alright.

James was staring up at a tree full of golden apples and was very tempted to climb up and grab one. Not for eating even, just for something to toss around and do. Peter was being no help, humming to himself and bouncing on his toes as he watched a patch of Sunflowers carefully, the edge of their enclosure keeping them in a nice warmth despite the breeze blowing through. He seemed no more intent on breaking the awkward silence though.

"Wish Evans was around," James finally said. "Bet she'd be able to name every plant here. Wonder if that will give you the Midas Touch if you eat it?"

"You never need an excuse to want her around," he returned passively.

They were saved from anymore stilted attempts by Sirius' little brother's voice breaking the silence, and to James's further bewilderment, he saw an actual smile break out across Peter's face.

"We should go find him. I've been meaning to ask for ages-"

"Why bother?" James blurted in confusion. He barely registered Peter's downcast look at being interrupted, this had been baffling him for ages. "What on Earth have you two been getting so chummy about anyways?" His tone came out far more bitter in the end than he really meant it to, how he wished none of this had even happened anymore and they could just go back to school. If he had to find a way to get Remus and Sirius to make up again all over he'd take that over this constant spin-table of his usual life.

"I, I mean we, well he doesn't-" He's never interrupted me, just sounded petty out loud, but Peter couldn't think of anything else to say in that moment. The first time he'd talked to Regulus, he'd just been trying to be friendly in some bad circumstances as well as outsourcing a prank on Sirius, it wasn't until this moment he realized he'd been so excited to go find Regulus and ask him about this strange environment he'd not even bothered to question he'd be able to ask without somehow being overlooked.

He'd stuttered himself into silence, and James just gave him a bizarre look for it. For a peace offering, Peter summoned one of the golden apples to him and gave it a toss to James, who smiled in delight at the distraction and began tossing it in the air, turning on the spot and walking off without glancing back, expecting Peter to follow as usual.

Peter only hesitated for a moment before he did.

Alice landed in a fountain with an undignified squee. Standing up and checking all over her skin wasn't melting off or something, she slogged through the golden liquid and had to crawl on her belly to drag herself over the edge and flop down on the other side, shivering harder than ever. Realizing she was alone and instantly weary of this fact, she kept her wand held tightly and turned slowly, hopefully to clue in what was going on.

The fountain was glamorous, the water itself had a charm on it to sparkle in the sunlight from the two golden wands crossed, being held aloft by two people she vaguely recognized for some reason. It took a lot of concentration for her to recall that was Nicolas Flamel, and so possibly his wife Perenelle with him. As the book echoed around her of Harry being at the Yule Ball, and not enjoying it one bit by the sounds of how the night was going, then further progressing into the grounds where Hogwarts had set up a sort of mini garden path as well, she suspected her home school had been inspired by the Beauxbatons Academy for some decorative inspirations.

She sighed wistfully and shivered again Frank couldn't be here to dance with her at the mention of all this, she'd have much rather landed in the splendidly decorated Great Hall, and she winced in sympathy instead it seemed to be wasted on the patrons as not everyone's love life was going so well. Hagrid and Maxime, then Ron and Hermione even having an unpleasant spat, as well as Harry's Champion Rival giving off the oddest of advice before going back to the girl of Harry's affection. As grand as this place was, she couldn't imagine even its splendid manor could fix the myriad of problems going on in these worlds.

HPHPHPHP

Sorry I couldn't show off how I imagined the real Beauxbatons would look, but you know, they are outsiders and I'm probably cheating a bit by even showing off the gardens.

*Lemon to be posted separately

[lindoig8]

Heather's Birthday

Tuesday 20 April

A week on the road and a big birthday celebration today! We drove just under 100 clicks (our shortest day by far) to William Creek where we enjoyed a drink in the picturesque bar before a shower and dinner.

We started the day with a longish wetland walk at Coward Springs after a hearty breakfast and then back-tracked about 5 km to the turnoff to Mound Springs. It is a further 4 clicks off the road on a very corrugated track but we had been there before and wanted to see it again.

There are a lot of these springs in the area where subterranean water is forced to the surface under pressure and when the water bursts out, it forms a mound, usually 10-15 metres high (my guess) with a gently bubbling spring and a pool at the top, often overflowing to form a small wetland around its base. At Mound Springs, there are basically two active springs and a handful of defunct mounds nearby. They have evolved their own tiny isopods and we saw some of them scurrying around in the pools. After inspecting these Springs, we returned to the Track and passed Coward Springs again to another area of springs at Strangways. This is a much more extensive area with at least 100 springs, mostly just defunct mounds but with some of them still containing (mainly cool) water bubbling gently from the depths of the earth. It was hot, dry and dusty, but there was a poorly defined walking track that visited about a dozen or so mounds (and the cemetery because there used to be a settlement here) so we did the hard yards and walked the course and climbed a few of the mounds. It was very dusty of course and we were very glad to get back to the car for a long cold drink!

We debated driving out to look at Lake Eyre, but when we had our drink in the bar at William Creek, the pilots who fly tourists out there said we wouldn’t get close enough to see any water, so we gave it a miss. Last time we were here, we did go out there, but again, no water and the scene was less than inspiring. We had decided on the same course of non-action at South Lake Eyre a few days ago. When we passed a few years ago, we ventured close to the water that was there then and almost got our boots bogged so this time, we just sat and watched some other intrepid tourists slog back from their attempted visit to the now dry shoreline.

Lake Eyre South as we saw it - a long walk in over rugged ground to a salt pan. (We think the blue area was simply a mirage, but certainly too far away to explore.)

We decided that seeing it was Heather’s birthday, we would make an early camp at William Creek and take advantage of the opportunity for a shower. We even ran the air conditioner in the van for an hour or so and turned on our PCs for the first time this trip. The internet was VERY slow and we had heaps of emails to respond to so we sat in the van and worked for a couple of hours prior to dinner.

We had booked for dinner at the pub. Heather even got a free drink because it was her birthday so that probably saved us $10-12 – my tinny cost us $8 as it was. Dinner was excellent! Slow cooked Goat Curry – superb! Maybe even challenging our own goat curries, but they are very hard to beat. They also served an excellent shiraz – labelled especially for them, but sourced from McLaren Vale. It was a great meal, but a tad noisy. A team from Netflix was there – they are filming in the area and we hope to see the product in due course. There was also a bunch from a 4WD club, all dressed up to the nines to help celebrate one of their member's 70th birthday so that was a talking point – two birthdays on the same day in such a remote area – actually three because the 70-year-old guy told us he had met up with a 2-year-old celebrating her birthday that morning too. I reckon there must have been at least 50 people served meals in the restaurant that night, probably half or more enjoying the goat curry!

Wednesday, 21 April

We continued another 250-odd kilometres west along the Oodnadatta Track, stopping several times to explore along the way. We checked out a couple more sidings, or their ruins actually. One looked as if someone had attempted to reconstruct parts of the collapsed walls, but I suspect the next willy-willy will undo all the work done to date. This was one of the buildings, several of the walls of which I reckon I could easily have pushed over, but was careful to avoid in case the whole wall fell in on me.

One of many defunct railway sidings along the old Ghan track. I could probably have demolished half of it with one hand.

There were huge swathes where the ground was covered with a pale green fuzz – obviously a result of the recent rains, but essentially a thin ground cover. But there were also many patches of darker green with more grass and low shrubs where water had obviously pooled and given the plants the opportunity to establish themselves. There were even small areas where the water still lay – as well as occasional rivers, some with water in them.

We stopped off at Algebuckina on the Neales River. We have called in there on previous trips and the river was actually flowing quite strongly. I believe it is the only river in a huge area that has never been completely dry in human memory. I went looking for birds and found a few, but the mozzies soon found me. At Oodnadatta (Bushfly-centre), they said that Algebuckina is Mosquito-centre! The mosquitos are very small, but I was bitten at least 20 times within a few minutes. Algebuckina has one of the old Ghan rail bridges across the river – a huge structure that we have walked on in the past, but this time, the mozzies were so persistent that we simply locked ourselves in the car to eat our lunch and then just kept driving.

We called in at the Pink Roadhouse in Oodnadatta for a cold drink and a chat with the bar staff, but decided that it was too early to make camp so did another 100 kilometres or so before camping along the road near the entrance to one of the big stations out there.

I tried to fly our drone but found I needed to do a bit more reading about how to control it before doing anything more than simply flying and landing it within a few metres of the caravan. I suspect this might be a project for us when we are out at Gemtree with lots more space and fewer people to avoid whilst earning my P-plates.

At night, we slept in our new sleeping bags, just to try them out before our Camel Trek. They are very cosy and comfortable, but maybe a bit warmer than expected.

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

This story comes soon after the Roman ambush on Alabaster’s laboratory. After the Pax brothers and Alabaster defend the lab until reinforcements show up, the question hangs in the air: who revealed the location of Alabaster’s lab? The Spy Master is assigned to find out or, at least, find a scapegoat.

 Mercedes: Interrogation Letdown

           If you asked Mercedes, she would say that she didn’t drink coffee. Her hijab always smelled of the robust aroma, one that wafted memories of her mother, of her mother’s lips as they pressed Mercedes’s forehead in a morning goodbye. Another day of work. Another disposable cup of coffee. Another hour to torment her brothers as Mercedes corralled them ready for school.

         There were few personal items in her Camp Othrys cabin, but two of her most valuable were a rug (for when she went to “tend to the Hecate garden” in the chapel) and a small French press.

         Few were awake early enough to witness her trek from Fajr prayer to the Spy Wing. There, she dumped some coffee beans and hot water into the glass container. After capping it, she would lean over the golden lid to inhale the fumes. Normally, the French press, accompanying mug, and coffee were all cleaned and away before anyone came in.

         Today, she set her coffee mug in the center of the interrogation table. Steam curled up between her and Pax. She tapped her pen against her Othrys notebook. She hoped her irritation was prominent enough to cover up her worry. Pax didn’t need to know she was worried about him. It would get into his head, inflate it, and he’d become the next astronaut to circumnavigate the world and her anger.

         This silence was one of her and Pax’s many games: invite him into the spy wing, give him no clear instructions, then ignore him for thirty minutes. At the end of his twitching, squirming, and sprawling across the table, she would ask him which three suspicious activities she had done. She would ask for the exact timestamp for each.

There weren’t always three. Sometimes there were none. Sometimes there were eleven. She wanted him to question her authority, and she wanted him to use his brain, something many people found abhorrent, she knew. At least Pax could be bribed into it.

         Today was not one of those exercises. However, she didn’t correct his assumption that it was. She enjoyed his rapt attention and silence.

         At the top of the page, as she did in every page of this notebook, she scrawled, “To me, death is nothing but happiness, and living under tyrants nothing but living in a hell” and “The end justifies the means.”

         Pax, as suspected, broke first. “Are you going to drink that?”

         “No,” she said, “It’s there for the aesthetic.”

As per usual, Pax couldn’t tell if she was serious or sarcastic. That’s exactly where she liked him. His face scrunched up in his I’m Over-Thinking expression. Mercedes loved it. Pax’s unending chatter put her at ease. Ever since he went to Tartarus, his liar’s tells had become obvious. If she waited long enough, he’d rat himself out.

That’s why she left Pax’s interview for the end. He was uncomplicated and comforting after the morning’s slog.

Underneath her paper’s quotes, she wrote, Suspects.

“Did you decide it wise to tell someone about Alabaster’s super secret layer before its defenses were activated?” With others, she couldn’t be so direct. With Pax? If he thought he was at fault, he would crumble to guilt.

Instead of falling apart, he fell onto the table. The coffee mug jerked, the brown liquid sloshing against the white, ceramic sides. She forced herself not to grab for it, to maintain her composure as cool and collected.

“Oh! Mercedes! Do I have to answer more questions about this?” He peaked at her through his fingers, his amber and black eyes glistening. “Axel and I didn’t know the location until we got there! We were just told we’d be Alabaster’s pack mules for the day and we’d do less of a half-assed job that the empousas would.”

From the information she’d collected, this was correct. Mostly. Alabaster verified it: he hadn’t told the Pax brothers anything until moving day.

However, Axel, after several rounds of questioning and clearing his throat, admitted that Alabaster had given him a rough approximation about the plans and location. This either meant Alabaster was willing to lie for one of his “meat shields” or that he had forgotten that detail. Alabaster had come to their interview with a stack of papers meticulously chronicling each time he’d mentioned the lab project over the last three months. If he had forgotten, Mercedes was a Zeus fangirl.

Mercedes had checked his records and found that Alabaster had altered them. He probably thought she wouldn’t notice, but….

But Mercedes knew Alabaster. She knew all of them. It was her job. She knew that Alabaster rubbed the upper left corner of pages when he was thinking. Several pages from his records had unmarred corners. The penmanship was sloppier on those pages. (He forgot to dot an “i;” an atrocity in Alabster’s book of How to be a Hard Ass.) The margins were five millimeters wider than the other pages, something he would balk as being a behemoth waste of space. He likely rewrote those pages, omitting that he told Axel anything. And he thought he adjustments were small enough that she’d overlook them.

From Pax’s reaction, neither Axel nor Alabaster had told him.

“Pax Two, you’re—”

“I know, I know.” He sighed, slumping back into his chair. “I’m excreting salacious facial sweat onto your interrogation table.”

She forced her lips not to twitch. “Sebaceous,” she corrected and immediately regretted it. It brought her joy to envision adult Pax on a CSI crime scene, taking fingerprint samples and discussing how “salacious” or “lustful” the evidence was to the appall of all of his coworkers, all left to theorize about his sex life.

Mercedes was always pleasantly surprised by how carefully Pax listened to her and remembered what she said, even if he did mispronounce a word way out of their grade’s reading level.

“How did you detect the Romans?” she asked. Part of her wanted to be proud of him: he was her trainee, after all and he thwarted the Romans with his snooping.

“One of them shot Sphinx.” The playfulness was gone. He stared at the coffee mug’s rising steam.

Mercedes set the pencil down. Her instincts said to touch his hand or give him a hug.

Impartial, she reminded herself, tracing quotes in her notebook. I’m supposed to remain impartial. Not to think about Lou Ellen crying when she went to the lab, where Sphinx used to live. Not to notice Pax shamefully avoid his best friend’s gaze, horrified Lou Ellen might blame him for not saving Sphinx.

I’m as impartial as a campaign poster.

Mercedes often caught herself daydreaming about ending this war without any deaths. This was the problem with being a spymaster: you had friends on both sides of the war. Little divided you other than a sense of loyalty or cultish idealism. When most Romans defected from Camp Jupiter, they left everything and everyone. But, Mercedes was the spymaster. She needed contacts. She could never truly leave either camp.

No one had won this fight, though New Rome definitely lost. Alabaster no longer had his lab, half-a-decade’s worth of priceless magical artifacts, and one of his spell books. The full death toll wasn’t in on the Roman side, but they had lost a lot of people. Mercedes still needed to verify the death of their prisoner. Rumor said that he had consumed a suicide pill during Jack and Flynn’s “questioning.” Lucille and Mercedes normally did the interrogation. They kept the interrogation humane. Jack and Flynn didn’t.

Mercedes shivered. She didn’t like Flynn and Jack doing interrogations. She didn’t like that Jack’s mind was waning alongside Luke’s.

On top of that, rumors swept the Roman legion of a new monster, this creature that had awaited the legionnaires in the Mist of the Witch’s Layer. No doubt, this was a rumor started to preserve some soldier’s honor, to make the Pax brothers and Alabaster seem an insurmountable foe instead of three panicked kids. From the way Pax retold the story now, he had no idea about the impression they had made.

Pax was retelling the events—enumerating the soldiers, recalling their location, their armament, their words—when he choked. “I couldn’t kill her, Mercedes. Is that bad?” He puffed up his cheeks and popped them. His eyes were glassy. He had been talking about a soldier that he’d caught in a noose. “Good thing to know I’ll always go for the high five. I’ll never leave you hanging there.” The last words broke with a hiccupped sob.

Impartial. You’re impartial.

Mercedes gripped the handle of the mug. The warmth was fading from the ceramic. She lifted it. What was left of the heat and the scent of tangy undertones—she exhaled, shuddering. How would she get through this talk without hugging Pax?

He shouldn’t have been at this fight. He ought to have been failing out of middle school. Really, he ought to be playing with a pegasus at Camp Half-Blood. She tried not to consider how their relationship would differ if he was.

She set the mug back on the center of the table. “No. A propensity for murder isn’t a skill I value and… and the availability of a compassionate heart is a rare delicacy on this ship, despite what Luke and Kronos preach.”

Pax’s watery eyes went wide. He sniffled. His gaze shot around the room before resting back on her. “You don’t like Luke very much, do you?”

Mercedes scowled. “That is a dangerous accusation, Pax Two. I feel for him the same way I feel for my father.”

Irresponsible. Power-mad.

Luke had made her exchange her fear of one monster for another.

She did not always see eye-to-eye with Axel; she’d been to one of his cage matches and was unfond of the sensationalized violence he so easily exhumed. However, she’d never been more relieved than the day he stood between Annabeth—a bound and gagged, thirteen-year-old girl—and her would-be molester. That changed her mind about Luke forever.

This was not a conversation to have aboard the ship.

“I made you something,” the words exploded from Pax. It startled Mercedes and reminded her of the time that Pax smuggled thirty containers of pudding from the cafeteria in Matthias’ spandex boxers. The seams ripped, much like Pax had sputtered these words: clumsy and a little too excited to escape.

Trust Pax to easily dodge a conversation and to make you think about someone’s underpants.

He withdrew something from his jacket pocket. A bulge had inhabited that it since he’d returned from Tartarus, though she’d assumed it was some kind of safety blanket. Knowing Pax, it could have been a preserved piece of skin that hadn’t properly reattached to Lou Ellen’s hand.

When he unfolded the brown silk, Mercedes stopped breathing. While scrunched up and crinkled, the embroidery was still beautiful: all pink and gold thread. It swirled in an elegant floral pattern along the square’s edges. He made this?

“And—I—I made you a magnet pin to hold it together so you don’t need to be worried about piercing the material…”

When he fumbled in his pocket again, Mercedes could feel her lip trembling. Before he looked up, she shut her jaw and dabbed her cheeks with the back of her hand. By the time he had set the items on the table, she managed her expression into a neutral one. She added Practice Facial Expressions to her list of spy exercises for his training. Vitally important if he ever had the karma of training a mini-him later down the road.

“I made a different one and ruined it when I practiced pinning it. Can you show me how to put one on right? The fabric slides and goes everywhere so I can’t test it properly. You won’t tell us when your birthday is, and I’ve been wanting to make you one for awhile, and this is one of the many things I wanted to do to make it up to you...”

His voice trailed off. Although he tried to keep his eyes sheepishly on the table, they kept flicking up to check her reaction. His information cataloguing demeanor was so obvious: wide-eyed excitement, the hint of a smile curling his lip, a slight lean forward.

Mercedes couldn’t keep her hand from shaking when she reached for the fabric and magnets. He would notice the weakness; she had taught him to notice.

Both sides of the magnets were decorated, one a subtle brown that matched the hijab and another with bold gold and pink paint to match the embroidery, presumably to either blend or use as an accessory. Both were coated in a smooth gloss, likely for comfort. From what she could see, there was no trick or prank attached. Just a small, thinner section, where he must have fiddled with the fabric when talking to her.

This was one of the nicest things someone had done for her since she got to Camp Othrys.

His words echoed in her head. I wanted to make it up to you. To make up for lying and going to Tartarus.

         “This is an acceptable start, Pax Two,” she said, “This does not mean you’ve dissuaded my wrath. Continue to grovel and do not expect any items in return.” If he thought she was mad, he was less likely to do something so stupid again. Mercedes almost swore. Technically, Pax was younger than her, even if by less than a year. She ought to give him something, even if it was a few pennies, for Eid al-Fitr. He better not look at that as an apology acceptance.

         Pax’s conniving smile broke into a goofy grin. “Gifts are not gifts if you’re expecting something in return.” He sounded like he was quoting a childhood mantra, adding in a little jingle.

         “Then they’re transaction pieces,” she agreed absently. Mercedes folded the fabric and attached the magnet to assure she didn’t lose it. She shoved the gift out of sight, under the table. If she looked at it for too long, he’d catch her smiling. She was furious that some part of her wanted to be somewhere private, so she could examine the embroidery in detail.

         She began again, “The investigation—”

         Pax whined and sank right back onto the table.

         Mercedes waited until he quieted his whining. “Did you notice anything suspicious? Oh competent assistant of mine? Or were you too busy examining Alabaster’s assets.” She flipped her notebook to a previous page, one with two columns of names that were subdivided into tables. “This is my list of people who found out or were told. Who would you find most suspicious? Who do you think can’t keep a secret and to whom would they relieve the secret’s burden?”

         She read it aloud from a second copy before he could point out that he couldn’t read:

 Involved in the planning process: Alabaster, Matthias, Lou Ellen, Hecate, Prometheus.

Involved in construction: Matthias, Alabaster, a rotation of blind-folded minions under Matthias (see back)

Knew the location: Alabaster, Matthias

Found out the location: Flynn, Jack, Luke/Kronos, Phil, Pax One, Pax Two, Mercedes, Morpheus

Two days of constant interviews had taken its toll. Tension clenched her jaw, something she didn’t notice until Paxton forced her to relax. Had she had water since before Wudu? Her mouth felt dry.

         Paxton began to babble, “Matthias is a great secret keeper. I still don’t know how he shaved an underwear pattern into Phil’s—”

“Pax Two.” She meant to stop him from going off on a tangent. He took it as an accusation.

“Who, me? I’m a huge security flaw.” He gave her a sly smile. “I tell you everything.”

“That’s amply evident.” Since his return from Tartarus, he felt the need to tell her each time his color switched from green to transparent.

Pax tapped the lower part of the paper. “You forgot the centaurs. They didn’t know until we got there, but they did find out.”

Mercedes applauded this observation with silence. This would indicate that she had not forgotten the centaurs, but wanted to know if he would. This type of testing was so customary to Pax that he continued unhindered.

“Oh! And that sun god—the old one? Hecate’s friend that can see everything under the sun, like Greek Santa. How come he gets the privilege of being Greek Santa but the sky god doesn’t? If I were Zeus, I would want some those powers re-sorted

         “Helios,” Mercedes said. She had forgotten him. Rumors of his power (near-forgotten at the likes of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter) were rampant in the Othrys ranks. Helios sometimes claimed his powers didn’t work because he didn’t have the sun chariot, but she would need to be sure. Mercedes sat very still. Would she need to interview another titan? One she did not want to see?

         “You forgot about him.” Pax sounded cheery.

         Slowly, Mercedes nodded. “I had. This is why it’s good to keep parasites around. Sometimes they keep things in their digestive systems longer than the host. Or, maybe, sometimes hosts need partners more than parasites.”

         Elevating Pax’s position—that was a conversation for another day.

         Mercedes felt sick. She wanted to accuse a friend of espionage as much as she wanted to volunteer them for an interactive presentation on degloving. No one had given her much to work with, but most didn’t fit the bill.

Matthias had gone in rambling circles during his interrogation. The main thing saving him? He was too clever and resourceful. Had he wanted to capture the three boys in a building that he had designed, there would have been an attack of chloroform-coated underwear automatons.

Prometheus, likewise, would not have been so sloppy. He, as he admitted, would have gassed the boys or poisoned them.

Alabaster and Lou Ellen suspected Lamia. Apparently it would be easy for such a powerful witch to locate the magical objects transported there. Mercedes had Lamia on a different suspect list.

Luke, in his ever-increasing paranoia, thought it was Alabaster who set himself up. A charming disposition to cover up Luke’s insecurities, but Mercedes knew that Alabaster had no use for subterfuge. His family made up a third of the army. If he wanted, he could have the Princess Andromeda make port in San Pedro Bay with a Welcome Legions of Rome! sign.

That left an option Pax should have pointed out but never would.

Axel.

He was close to all the right people: Luke (formerly. Mercedes blamed their falling out on a lack of shared interest. Axel didn’t have the propensity for pedophilia and domestic abuse that Luke had), Alabaster, Jack and Flynn, and, of course, Pax. By being close to Pax, he was close to Mercedes and all of Mercedes’ documents. He was one of the only souls aboard the ship not pledged to Kronos—incapable since he was full-blooded Maya.

There was no point in interviewing Flynn. Flynn could tell Mercedes that she was innocent; with her charmspeak, Mercedes would believe her. Any argument against Flynn would have to be cautiously researched, compiled, and brought to Lucille, Prometheus, and Luke in full secrecy.

For that matter, Lucille could be a good option, but there seemed no reason: she was happily courting Ethel and had taken Charlie on as her own daughter. She didn’t feel right… Although, Mercedes guessed Silena Beauregard wouldn’t feel right as a spy for Camp Half-Blood, and Silena had been cheating on Beckendorf and getting campers killed for at least two years now. Having children of Aphrodite around was always dicey. Thank god the Roman editions weren’t as powerful.

Although it was unwise to be too close to anyone with Mercedes’ job, she wouldn’t want to accuse Lucille without hard evidence. Lucille made sure no one bothered Mercedes about her hijab, just as Mercedes assured that no one bothered Lucille about her relationships with women.

Mercedes watched Pax’s gaze flicker over the symbols on the paper, pretending to read them.

She didn’t think Pax would accuse his half-brother or his surrogate mother, even if those were the most logical conclusions.

Pax set the paper down. His rounded cheeks puffed into a frown. Insecurity wrinkled the edges of his eyes as they gazed intently into hers.

Mercedes took in a deep breath. Would he?

“Mercedes,” he said, sounding grave, “I’m thinking about having my first kiss—well, my real first kiss.”

“Ya Allah, save us from the sins and hellfire,” Mercedes mumbled, exhaling. The tension eased out of her muscles as she restrained a laugh.

“I’m thinking about Alabaster, though Lou Ellen says he might not be ready yet. But, that’s like saying she shouldn’t try to make a move on my brother during our victory dance party, and she should totally make a move on my brother.”

As he spoke, Mercedes collected the list of suspicious names, tucked it into her flip notebook, and closed it. She rose, took her cup of cold coffee, and dumped it down a sink along one wall. As the brown liquid splattered against the white porcelain, she sent a mental prayer of safety for her mother, brothers, and friends back at home.

No one seemed to realize she eavesdropped on her comrades as much as she spied on her enemies. If there was one thing she knew, Alabaster was not ready for intimacy, with anyone, let alone with Pax. And Axel would certainly have a heart attack warding off Lou Ellen, who, she knew for a fact, Axel thought was too young for him.

“I want it to be perfect. Jack agrees and he’s been brainstorming with me. He said he doesn’t remember his first kiss and that makes him really sad and Flynn won’t tell me about hers. But, it has to have great atmosphere—music! And maybe outdoors—maybe with a garden—but what if something goes wrong? I’ve been practicing on my hand—You know, to make sure I’m not the worst while keeping the purity of the first kiss—and I’ve been asking for advice all around, from Lucille and Prometheus won’t tell me anything, he just laughs in his ‘I’m a titan who can predict the future’ kind of way. And what if it isn’t perfect?! Like, I want it to make Alabaster happy and make me happy and be a good story for future Pax generations like Jack wishes he had a good story for me!” Pax rose to his feet to follow her around the room.

From the frantic cadence of his tone, she knew, with relief, they were done for the day. The part of Pax’s brain capable of none-meandering thoughts had a clear timer and that alarm had gone off.

She walked back to the table, gathering her notebook and new hijab. The fabric felt so soft when she tucked both against her chest. “Too many expectations lead to inevitable disappointment. What if you’re a bad kisser?”

“What if I’m a bad kisser?” Pax’s eyes widened. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them.

“Planning isn’t in your nature. What if nothing goes according to plan?” She ushered her stunned friend towards the exit of the Spy Barracks.

Pax stumbled alongside her, eyes clearly visualizing the worst case scenario. “You’re right! What if nothing goes according to plan?!”

“What if you make a big fuss over something that won’t matter and you worry yourself needlessly?”

“What if I—hey!” Pax’s features scrunched up into a pout. He folded his arms.

Mercedes sighed. Like Alabaster, she didn’t have time for experience in this field and couldn’t offer much advice. As someone who ran spy operations, and someone with a cute, unpredictable parasite pouting in front of her, she knew things tended to fall apart in correlation with how hard you tried to keep them together. “You can’t control if something goes wrong, Ajax, and you can’t control how Alabaster will react. If things go wrong, then you’ll find someone else later, whose lip sensitivity is closer to that of your palm.” She pointed to his right hand, the one she assumed he’d been practicing on.  

“But what if—”

Pax went quiet.

Mercedes had, much to her own surprise and skipped heartbeat, leaned forward. His nose was cold when it pressed against hers; his lips, warm. There was a faint hint of something citrusy, like he had drunk orange juice for breakfast. Fortunately, no reek of bacon.  

Several jittery questions flashed through her brain: What constitutes as a “real” kiss? Was I supposed to close my eyes? It’s awkward if I keep them open, right? How long am I supposed to do this for?

The insecurity shook her nerves—it shouldn’t have. This was Pax. And they were just friends. Just two friends who spent 90% of their time together.

His eyes had gone wide with shock. His gasp sucked air from her before he gently exhaled.

Four seconds was plenty, plenty enough to make her face feel hot. Mercedes saw movement out of her peripheral—either he was about to push her away or pull her close. She didn’t wait to find out. She withdrew, absently fussing with her notebook and hijab like she’d finished another closing procedure. Both items had almost slipped from her grasp.

Pax looked lost. His mouth moved a few times, before remembering how to form words, “Why did you do that?” The question was quiet and uncertain. Not angry.  From his hesitant tension, she got the feeling there was more he wanted to ask, but was scared.

Mercedes quirked her lips into a smirk. “Because, no one will believe you when you tell the story later.”

His mouth moved a few times more times; Mercedes resisted the urge to remind him that they were no longer kissing.

In the most delayed startle she’d seen, he jumped. “But—wha—it—Mercedes!” he cried in protest. Mercedes ushered him outside the spy barrack’s door while he was still floundering for words. “I—but—” He huffed. “I wanted to share my first kiss with someone who hadn’t had theirs!”

Mercedes paused in the doorway, widening her grin. “You just did.” And, she shut the door on his face, locking it. Mercedes pressed against the wall, flipped out her dulled mirror, and tilted it to watch him through the window.

Pax paced back and forth across the entranceway, paused, raised a hand to open the door again, threw his hands up, and dropped them. After six seconds of standing there, he touched his lips and blushed. The blush remained as he walked, unsteadily, away from the Spy Barracks.

He’d be pouty with her for another week. To keep any ideas out of his head, she’d have to pretend she didn’t know why. She unfolded the hijab to admire the embroidery. This must have taken Pax weeks to make. She pressed the silk against her face, enjoying the smooth coolness. The slickness would be a pain—she’d have to wear an undercap to keep it in place.

She thought about how hard her mother would slap her if she ever found out Mercedes had kissed a boy. At home, she would have been forbidden to see Pax or, at least, be forbidden to spend time with him without a chaperon—no, it would be fully forbidden. Pax was raised Catholic. There was no potential for—

The elation in her chest crushed when she glanced down at her notebook. This was a botched job. There was no time for any daydreaming or—had she been flirting? Luke expected a report from her by the end of the day, and she needed to give him a name in that report. If she didn’t—

Mercedes tried not to think about the hunger in Luke when he stared at Annabeth, the way he’d smacked Phil across the room, the times she’d stumbled into Jack healing his own battered face with a hushed, “Don’t tell Flynn or the boys. They won’t understand that Luke has bad days the same way that I get confused.” The way Kronos’ darkness seemed to spread through the underlings like a contagion, through how Jack and Flynn had future plans to torture-heal-torture any new captives (for Jack, as some displaced revenge against Thalia for failing his friend; for Flynn, for fun) and the increased violence and spectacle of Axel’s now labyrinthine cage fights.

And here she was, holding a gift against her face like she could have a Catholic Maya boy as a sweetheart even if she were at home. People died and were seriously injured because of her lack of oversight—how dare she. What else had she clouded from her vision?

Pax is a good suspect. He has access to all your files. But, he had no reason to alert Axel and Alabaster to the ambush. Breath choked in Mercedes’ throat. And she couldn’t do that—she couldn’t do that to Pax or herself.

She knew this—suspecting friends—came with the job. But, that had been a distant thought when she—terrified and desperate for some good to come out of the inevitable slaughter of her Cohort—realized she would make the perfect spy for Camp Othrys. Before she knew the ease of Lucille’s smile, how special Pax could make her feel, how horrifying Flynn was.

Pain spread along her forearm. She dug her nails in. Underneath were the lines of her Roman tattoo, of Mercury’s symbol and her bars of service. The marks didn’t vanish when she pledged her soul to Kronos, when she forsook any chance of joining her real family after death. Was there a chance Allah would understand? To what extent could you step into the dark to stop tyrants and false idols before you were consumed?

When she inhaled sharply, she could almost taste the scent of her centurion’s perfume, a smell as comforting as her mother’s brewing coffee. She thought about that home—Rome. About her real home in Spain. About her real name, the one she had to abandon, and the one she took upon joining the legion, now reserved for her contacts in New Rome. She could never keep a name. If she did, and something went wrong, if she couldn’t do her job right, legionnaires or titans might find her real family and kill them.

Like not finding a satisfying suspect for this report.

Life seemed complicated when she lived in Granada, helping to raise her brothers while her mother worked. It seemed more complicated when she had to abandon them to keep the monsters away. Tiny Mercedes could have never predicted life would get worse.

Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear.

But, she didn’t feel that right now. She’d been so careful not to feel anything. And then Pax gave her this stupid hijab and she was dumb enough to kiss him.

Her breath felt tight; legs, weak. She had to lean against the wall for support. How many homes can you have before none of them are a “home?” How many identities can you wear before all of them lose meaning? How many times could you pledge a soul before it shatters?

         There were no answers to these questions, and Mercedes still had to pick from one of her friends to throw to Luke as a scapegoat and sacrifice.

Mercedes slid to the floor, pressed her face completely into the hijab and sobbed.

 Authors note:

Thank you for reading! I’m sorry for the hiatus--I aim to get back to a bimonthly schedule.  Every time I edited this piece, it just didn’t feel right/good enough. I hope you enjoyed anyway! I also hope all of you are well and being gentle with yourselves! Stay tuned for one of my first (sorta?) fluff pieces, Alabaster’s Delicate Dance of Chance (hopefully during the month of October >>’‘)

[lgbtqiahistoricalromance]

LGBTQIA+ Historical Romance Novels with Ghosts, Ghouls, and Gothic themes 2019 - Updated October 17

A list of titles that either came out after the last update in 2018 or were published this year. Many series!

Gentleman Wolf by Joanna Chambers

- An elegant werewolf in Edinburgh…

1788. When Lindsay Somerville, the most elegant werewolf in Paris, learns that the man who held him in abject captivity for decades is on his way to France, intent on recapturing him, he knows he must leave the Continent for his own safety. Lindsay cannot take the risk of being recaptured—he may have been free for a century but he can still feel the ghost of his old chains under his fine clothes.

… on a mission…

While he’s in Edinburgh, Lindsay has been tasked with acquiring the “Naismith Papers”, the writings of a long-dead witchfinder. It should be a straightforward mission—all Lindsay has to do is charm an elderly book collector, Hector Cruikshank. But Cruikshank may not be all he seems, and there are others who want the papers.

… meets his match

As if that were not enough, while tracking down the Naismith Papers, Lindsay meets stubborn architect Drew Nicol. Although the attraction between them is intense, Nicol seems frustratingly determined to resist Lindsay’s advances. Somehow though, Lindsay can’t seem to accept Nicol’s rejection. Is he just moonstruck, or is Nicol bonded to him in ways he doesn’t yet understand?

Note: this is the first book of a duology – the story continues and will complete in the second book, Master Wolf.

A Hidden Beauty by Jamie Craig

- Student of letters, Micah Yardley wants one thing: to meet the poet Jefferson Dering. After hearing his idol speak at Harvard, Micah travels to Jefferson’s home in nearby Wroxham, entertaining visions of discussing poetry over dinner and drinks. What he experiences exceeds anything he ever anticipated. Jefferson finds Micah mesmerizing and passionate, everything he has ever wanted. But after getting caught in a compromising position with another young man a decade earlier, he exiled himself from Boston and from affairs of the heart. Jefferson represses his longing for Micah, but his tumultuous emotions cannot be contained. Micah denies the truth of his desire for Jefferson. Jefferson refuses to act on his passion for Micah. But all it takes is a single kiss in Wroxham's haunted church to change the course of their lives ... and ignite the flame that could fulfill a generations-old promise.

Deosil by Jordan L Hawk (Whyborne & Griffin series finale!!!!)

- Whyborne, Griffin, and their friends have faced down cultists, monsters, and sorcerers. But their greatest challenge is now upon them. On the return voyage from Balefire Manor, Whyborne receives the worst news possible: Widdershins has fallen before the onslaught of the Fideles and their servants. There’s still time to stop the return of the Masters, but that window grows shorter by the hour. Together with Christine and Iskander, Whyborne and Griffin must reach Widdershins to face the ultimate test—and decide the fate of the world, once and for all.

The Ingenious Mechanical Devices series by Kara Jorgensson (bisexual, pansexual, asexual, persons with disabilities, and POC characters in this series!!!)

Book One = The Earl of Brass

- Eilian Sorrell is no stranger to cheating death, but when a dirigible accident costs him his arm, he fears his days of adventuring are over. As the eldest son of the Earl of Dorset, Lord Sorrell knows he will face a bleak future among London's aristocracy unless he can escape. On a quest to return to his old life, Lord Sorrell commissions a prosthetic arm, but the craftsman isn’t quite what he expected.

Fenice Brothers Prosthetics is in trouble. Hadley’s brother is dead, and she is forced to pick up the pieces and finish what he started. When clients begin turning her away, she fears she will fail until she crosses paths with the enigmatic Lord Sorrell. In exchange for a new arm, he offers her a chance at adventure in the deserts of Palestine.

Beneath the Negev’s sand lies something far more precious than potsherds or bones. A long lost crystal city has been found that could change Eilian and Hadley’s world forever, but they aren’t the only ones who know its secrets. Will they make it out alive or will they, too, be buried beneath the desert sands?

Shinigami by Xia Lake

- A coming-of-age love story between an orphan and the heir of the richest family in the Land of Yamato. The human world meets the yōkai in a power struggle for the fate of Fujiwara no Hirotsugu. While he battles to find his own path, Hirotsugu finds solace in a boy who will become his secret friend, then his salvation, and then as they become adults together, the love of his life.

The Sea May Burn by Rose Lerner (Part of the St. Lemeston universe, a f/f retelling of Jane Eyre!!!) COMING SOON!

- Goldengrove’s towers and twisted chimneys rose at the very edge of the peaceful Weald, a stone’s throw from the poisonous marshes and merciless waters of Rye Bay. Young Mary Palethorp had been running wild there, ever since her mother grew too ill to leave her room.

I was the perfect choice to give Mary a good English education: thoroughly respectable and far too plain to tempt her lonely father, Sir Kit, to indiscretion.

I knew better than to trust my new employer with the truth about my past. But knowing better couldn’t stop me from yearning for impossible things: to be Mary’s mother, Sir Kit’s companion, Goldengrove’s mistress.

All that belonged to poor Lady Palethorp. Most of all, I burned to finally catch a glimpse of her.

Surely she could tell me who cut the strings on the guitar I found in the music room, why all the doors in the house were locked after dark, and whose footsteps I heard in the night…

Lost in Time series by AL Lester

Book One = Lost in Time

-  Lew Rogers's life is pleasantly boring until his friend Mira messes with magic she doesn't understand. While searching for her, he's pulled back in time to 1919 by a catastrophic magical accident. As he tries to navigate a strange time and find his friend in the smoky music clubs of Soho, the last thing he needs is Detective Alec Carter suspecting him of murder. London in 1919 is cold, wet, and tired from four years of war. Alec is back in the Metropolitan Police after slogging out his army service on the Western Front. Falling for a suspect in a gruesome murder case is not on his agenda, however attractive he finds the other man. Both men are floundering and out of their depth, struggling to come to terms with feelings they didn't ask for and didn't expect. Both have secrets that could get them arrested or killed. In the middle of a murder investigation that involves wild magic, mysterious creatures, and illegal sexual desire, who is safe to trust?

We Met in Dreams by Rowan McAllister

- In Victorian London, during a prolonged and pernicious fog, fantasy and reality are about to collide—at least in one man’s troubled mind. A childhood fever left Arthur Middleton, Viscount Campden, seeing and hearing things no one else does, afraid of the world outside, and unable to function as a true peer of the realm. To protect him from himself—and to protect others from him—he spends his days heavily medicated and locked in his rooms, and his nights in darkness and solitude, tormented by visions, until a stranger appears. This apparition is different. Fox says he’s a thief and not an entirely good sort of man, yet he returns night after night to ease Arthur’s loneliness without asking for anything in return. Fox might be the key that sets Arthur free, or he might deliver the final blow to Arthur’s tenuous grasp on sanity. Either way, real or imaginary, Arthur needs him too much to care. Fox is only one of the many secrets and specters haunting Campden House, and Arthur will have to face them all in order to live the life of his dreams.

The Clearwater Mysteries by Jackson Marsh

- Book One = Deviant Desires

The Victorian East End lives in fear of the Ripper and his mission to kill rent boys. Silas Hawkins, nineteen and forging a life on the streets could well be the next victim, but when he meets Archer, his life changes forever. Young, attractive and rich, Archer is The Viscount Clearwater, a philanthropist, adventurer and homosexual. When Archer suspects the Ripper is killing to lure him to a confrontation, he risks his reputation and his life to stop the madman's murders. Every man must play his part, including Silas. A mashup of mystery, romance and adventure, Deviant Desire is set in an imaginary London of 1888. The first in an on-going series, it takes the theme of loyalty and friendship in a world where homosexuality is a crime. Secrets must be kept, lovers must be protected, and for Archer and Silas, it marks the start of their biggest adventure - love.

Highland Haunting: A Townsend Halloween Story (The Townsends) by Lily Maxton

- For the past few months, Ian Cameron and Robert Townsend have been settling into their new life together, but when a series of odd events occur at Llynmore Castle, Ian begins to suspect that he's being haunted. The question is, is the spirit malevolent or benevolent? Does it want to harm him or warn him of something to come? As Halloween draws closer, the ghost becomes stronger. Ian and Robert will have to trust each other and trust themselves to find the answers they need before it's too late. *Highland Haunting is 16,000 words and features the main characters from A Scot's Surrender

The Haunting of Heatherhurst Hall by Sebastian Nothwell (f/f!!!)

- Heatherhurst Hall

Cumberland, England

1892

American heiress Kit Morgan is heartbroken at the wedding of her dearest school-friend. At her lowest moment, she is rescued from her agonies by the mysterious and alluring Alexandra Cranbrook, sister of a visiting English baronet. Alexandra is beautiful, charming, and effortlessly beguiling. Kit cannot help but fall in love with her.

When Sir Vivian Cranbrook proposes marriage, it seems natural for Kit to accept—if only to live with the woman she desperately loves.

But the Cranbrook’s ancestral home of Heatherhurst Hall is not all it seems. The attic is forbidden. Strange scratching noises echo from within the walls. Wraiths stalk the corridors by night. And worst of all, Alexandra’s love has turned to scorn.

Still, Kit is determined to earn her happily-ever-after and save the Cranbrooks from the horrors of Heatherhurst Hall.

If only she could know Alexandra loved her in return.

~The Haunting of Heatherhurst Hall is a Gothic romance rife with horror and heartache, wherein an American heiress makes an ill-advised marriage to bring herself closer the woman who’s stolen her heart.

Read by Candelight series by Gillian St. Kevern (7 book so far, with m/m and f/f love stories!!!)

- Book One = The Secretary and the Ghost: A Gothic Paranormal Romance

Pip Leighton is in a fix. His sister’s marriage hinges on him staving off the family’s impending financial ruin by taking the job of secretary to Lord Cross, a reclusive man with a temper befitting his name. Developing a passion for his employer was not on the cards. Neither was getting caught up in the deep mystery surrounding Foxwood Court and its resident ghost, but Pip has never been one to shirk a duty. As Pip delves deeper into the past, he discovers that his only hope for a future with Cross may depend on a man long dead—a man with a curious resemblance to himself.

The Gentleman Attraction: a short victorian mm paranormal romance by Connor Peterson

Emerson Mallory never mixes business and pleasure. His eyes might wander but he certainly wouldn’t risk his professional reputation over a tryst. Not even for a silver-haired scoundrel who clearly knows his way around a bedroom and makes his heart race with just one look.

When a flirtatious train ride turns into a weekend in close quarters, Bennet Clarke doesn’t agree that it would be best to leave their attraction at the door. He gave up worrying about human sensibilities the night he became a vampire centuries ago, and right now he wants more than one taste of Emerson’s charm and unnerving ability to see past his cavalier masks.

Their host has a few secrets of their own and a madcap plan that requires Emerson to enlist Bennet’s help. When the inevitable happens, Emerson begins to think that maybe Bennet’s way of looking at things isn’t so bad. Bennet, however, is faced with a dilemma. Keep up the ruse, or confess that Emerson has no idea who he’s gotten involved with.

Amidst the flurry of activity surrounding their host, the two men will have to keep their affair secret, plan a successful party, and decide if forever is too much to ask.

Spellbound: A Paranormal Historical Romance (Magic in Manhattan Book 1) by Allie Therin

- To save Manhattan, they’ll have to save each other first… 1925 New York Arthur Kenzie’s life’s work is protecting the world from the supernatural relics that could destroy it. When an amulet with the power to control the tides is shipped to New York, he must intercept it before it can be used to devastating effects. This time, in order to succeed, he needs a powerful psychometric…and the only one available has sworn off his abilities altogether. Rory Brodigan’s gift comes with great risk. To protect himself, he’s become a recluse, redirecting his magic to find counterfeit antiques. But with the city’s fate hanging in the balance, he can’t force himself to say no. Being with Arthur is dangerous, but Rory’s ever-growing attraction to him begins to make him brave. And as Arthur coaxes him out of seclusion, a magical and emotional bond begins to form. One that proves impossible to break—even when Arthur sacrifices himself to keep Rory safe and Rory must risk everything to save him.

Hayden Thorne is reissuing many of her LGBT romances this year, with some of the most original content in the genre. Many are YA options, but very enjoyable for adults!

Extensive 2018 Halloween List 

Since links have been failing in Tumblr, here is the URL for Halloween 2018: https://lgbtqiahistoricalromance.tumblr.com/post/188457088709/lgbtqiahistoricalromance

[noncanonlove]

Circumvent

It was Monday again. Hermione happened to detest Mondays. People were recovering from their weekends and so it slowed down anything she was trying to accomplish from the Friday past. The work day was torture and she couldn’t get home fast enough, lest she explode. Draco had a tendency to lose track of time if he was elbow deep in whatever he was currently trying to breed in the Manor’s greenhouse for his potions experiments but he tried to be home around the time she got back, sometimes worried she’d be tempted to return and do something rash if he wasn’t there to intercede.

The rest of the week, they had a pretty easy routine. They would make dinner together, discuss their days, work on pet projects in their shared workspace in the basement, have amazing sex, bathe, and pass out until everything restarted the next day. But Mondays were different. After slogging through the work day with ever growing irritation she came home fed Crookshanks, changed into comfortable clothes and lay on the couch to read and ignore everything. Draco would come home, already washed up, then after she’d taken her place on the couch he would pick up the cellphone she’d charmed to be able to work in magical environments.

She’d had the bright idea to get the Pureblood group more interested in the Muggle world. In order to do that she had to appeal to their curiosity and their natures. Gossip was the easiest one to prey upon. If they wanted to gossip, then they had to do it at a weekend do or a week day soiree. Hermione had gotten tired of attending the slew of them Draco loved to attend in short order after they’d gotten together, but had managed to get the number down to one or two a week. Usually on Sundays. Instead she’d researched and experimented on cellphones and other electronics with charms and other things until she’d gotten them to cooperate despite the magical interference.

She’d started small. She’d gotten one for Draco and showed him the appeal of being able to text her throughout the day without having to fuss with owls and also be able to send her pictures. Sometimes she regretted the pictures portion but usually he was pretty good about not being a total prat. Then to enact the next step of her plan, she’d casually texted him across the room during a do. That had gotten Pansy Parkinson’s immediate attention when she’d seen Draco pull out his phone and check the message. It had prompted a thousand questions from the circle she’d been in conversation with. Most had turned their noses up at the idea but Pansy and Blaise both cornered her later to acquire her help in getting them one. They knew an upcoming trend when they saw one and always had to be ahead of it.

So, one by one, each member of Draco’s circle had come to them for help on selecting a cellphone and then having Hermione charm it so it would be functional and never run out of battery. She had showed them all how to call one another, and they did that sometimes but surprisingly most of them preferred to text.

After their first couple of Mondays spent together as a couple newly living in the same house, Draco had figured out that she would rather light the house on fire than be chatty. For a while he’d holed up in his study or he’d sit in the chair next to her and read as well. After getting the cellphone situation settled however, he preferred to pace in circles around their couch as she laid on it while he gossiped away with the rest of his coterie.

She was always secretly amused, the one highlight of her Mondays, sometimes watching him in her peripheral vision as he became so engrossed in multiple conversations. He could become surprisingly expressive in the right atmosphere and by this point in their relationship he’d dropped his guard around her entirely. The instant she got up to make dinner though, the phone went away and his attention came back to them. She’d been wary of things getting annoying when she thought up the whole thing but she’d felt guilty about him being gradually cut off from his friends the with less parties they attended. Instead he’d started setting up group lunches throughout the week to compensate.

One thing she never had to worry about, however, was him trying to covertly cheat with it. The whole institution disgusted him. He’d admitted to her once that the mere idea of it turned his stomach. His parents had had a rough patch before where they’d cheated on each other and it’d nearly destroyed their family. Family was everything to him, so that was all it took in his mind to be permanently set against it. But more than that, Hermione trusted him. He’d offered to let her go through his phone before when a couple of scandals had happened. She’d merely kissed him and went back to her book, saying that they’d been through too much to get to the point to where they were at and that she trusted him not to do anything to endanger it. She’d been able to tell he’d appreciated it by the way he’d nuzzled against her afterwards, cuddling close.

Tonight, however, when she got up he’d put the phone away but had intercepted her as he came along his path around the couch.

“I think we should talk about something,” he started, his eyes cutting to the side.

That was his tell for being nervous, which set off the same emotion within her. Draco got nervous over precious little.

“Okay,” she hesitated, letting him guide her back onto the couch.

He took her hands in his and studied her for a moment before proceeding.

“I’ve been thinking about something. You’ve seemed to become less and less happy at the Ministry the longer you’re there. I don’t presume to know the whole picture,” she wanted to roll her eyes at that. She’d bet her salary that he and Lucius had been talking again, “but if I had a guess at it those old bats have come to the conclusion of your potential. In short, they don’t like it and all the change you herald should you get your footing. I’m afraid that you’re getting boxed in in your little job in Creatures. It’s been almost a year since you’ve been able to get anything passed.”

Despite the gentleness he’d said it with, it still gripped Hermione’s heart painfully because he was right. No matter what she’d done she’d always seemed to hit roadblock after roadblock. She’d begun to suspect that her boss had started to just give her platitudes when she brought things up to him about it to try to keep her from blowing a gasket. Her eyes filled with tears and she envisioned the rest of her career being like this until she became another Arthur Weasley, boxed off in some tiny office, out of sight and out of mind.

“Babe, I didn’t tell you this to make you cry,” he said, gathering her to his chest tightly, “Please don’t cry.”

“What am I supposed to do? It was my dream to change things and now it’s been ground to dust by some archaic, august caucus of pompous old bastards terrified of one woman,” her voice quavered from against his collarbone.

He languidly rubbed a hand up a down her back, “Well, to be truthful you can be pretty scary. You’re a powerful witch and you’re smarter than most of them combined. You’re certainly a formidable force. I didn’t say any of this to upset you. I had an idea. What methods are most successful at enacting change at the ministry?” he asked her.

“Bribery,” she muttered darkly, thinking of how Lucius would visit different departments and how little things always seemed to happen after he would pop by one, usually resulting in one bigger result later on that couldn’t quite be traced back to him unless one was really paying close attention.

He chuckled, “What else?”

She thought about it for a minute before bringing her head up to look at him again, “Well there’s public opinion…”

“Exactly. You’ve always been persuasive with your words, even if you need a little guidance sometimes with the presentation,” he grunted as she elbowed him but charged on, “Why don’t you write your own column?” He proposed.

She couldn’t stop the snort.

“What?” he asked, bewildered and more than a little irritated.

“The only two options I have for publishing them in is The Prophet or The Quibbler,” she said disdainfully. “Either one would edit my pieces to death to where it would hardly look like anything I’d actually written or bury them under a bunch of nonsense.”

Draco knew and understood her feelings on both of those media sources. He’d come prepared though.

“That’s true, but from everything I’ve heard, people who’ve fought in the war and many of those recovering in general are displeased by both the state of the Ministry and The Prophet. The way The Prophet is so wishy washy they’ve made themselves too unreliable for too long,” he said.

“So I start my own paper? Where would I get the resources to do that? I may have gotten some money off of the sale of my parents estate and what I was gifted by helping bring down Voldemort, but that’s not enough to pay people to write, to buy the equipment, a base of operations and everything else,” she started.

Her merely stared at her until she shut up and looked back at him.

“Have you forgotten that the Malfoys aren’t just known for their ability to affect change and their magical prowess?” he drawled with a hitched brow.

“Draco I can’t ask you to fund me! What if it fails? Surely I can find other avenues…” she said with wide eyes.

He scoffed, “You act like I won’t make that back within the year. I bet within five you’ll drive The Prophet right out of business.”

She looked at her lap with a furrowed brow, her mouth pulled to one side as her mind raced across it.

He knew he’d won when she set her shoulders, finally looking back up at him.

“You’re going to help me with this right? This isn’t something I could do without you even if you weren’t funding it,” she said, squeezing his hands.

“Don’t be silly, you absolutely could do it!” he insisted fiercely, “but to answer your question, of course I’ll help you. As much as you want,” he promised.

He couldn’t stand the idea of her fire being extinguished in that thrice damned Ministry. She was too smart and too full of life to become a victim of their drudgery. With this she could enact the change she wanted and circumvent dealing with them all together. As an added bonus Draco wouldn’t have to share her as much anymore.

“I’ll quit tomorrow, then and we’ll get things going,” she said, excitement beginning to bloom across her face.

He just grinned and kissed her. The paper was a good idea anyway, but their partnership in it would be a good proving ground for something bigger between them. He was determined to come out right side up on that aspect of the venture.

[fencer-x]

Hello! I’ve been looking for some good books to read and was wondering if you had any recommendations? I seem to just wander around the bookstore not knowing where to start.

I confess I’ve been reading nothing but fics on fics on fics (Drarry exclusively lol) for a good year now, so I haven’t touched original works in ages, though I have several of the latest installments of my favorite series waiting until I run out of good Drarry fic... (please...god...free me from this hell........)

I’ve made several recommendations for excellent M/M original works (you can always check out my reccs tag for any recommendations as well, though it includes original novels as well as manga and fic). I pretty much only read M/M fantasy (with the very VERY occasional M/M scifi or supernatural book thrown in), so I hope that’s what you’re looking for XD

Here’s a “””””””brief””””””” recap of series I particularly enjoy and go back to reread often, along with details on who might like these books and why. They’re all available via Amazon (most as Kindle reads, but some as paperbacks; some are also available from other sources as well in other formats if you prefer, for example, epub) and at reasonable prices (all but one series are under $10 per book, some under $5).

It is entirely possible you’ve read all of these, since I’ve gushed about them many a time before, and if that’s the case, I apologize I can’t rec you anything new! But maybe it’s been a while if you’ve read these before and it’s time for a reread!

The Lord of the White Hell series, by Ginn Hale - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Kiram Kir-Zaki may be considered a mechanist prodigy among his own people, but when he becomes the first Haldiim ever admitted to the prestigious Sagrada Academy, he is thrown into a world where power, superstition and swordplay outweigh even the most scholarly of achievements. But when the intimidation from his Cadeleonian classmates turns bloody, Kiram unexpectedly finds himself befriended by Javier Tornesal, the leader of a group of cardsharps, duelists and lotharios who call themselves Hellions. However Javier is a dangerous friend to have. Wielder of the White Hell and sole heir of a dukedom, he is surrounded by rumors of forbidden seductions, murder and damnation. His enemies are many and any one of his secrets could not only end his life but Kiram’s as well."] 

Read this if you like... magic and science working together, religion-borne racism and the difficulties of interracial as well as interreligious relationships, snarky aristocrats and a good mystery. And read the second book in the series definitely if you liked Yokozawa Takafumi no Baai or Sore Nari ni Shinken nan desu (I've found I really like stories where the rejected third-party from the main series gets his own happy ending, and Book 2 of this series is one such, building an entire new couple with the midway-through-the-story return of Book 1 couple so you get the best of both worlds.)

The Magpie Lord series by K.J.Charles - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Exiled to China for twenty years, Lucien Vaudrey never planned to return to England. But with the mysterious deaths of his father and brother, it seems the new Lord Crane has inherited an earldom. He’s also inherited his family’s enemies. He needs magical assistance, fast. He doesn’t expect it to turn up angry. Magician Stephen Day has good reason to hate Crane’s family. Unfortunately, it’s his job to deal with supernatural threats. Besides, the earl is unlike any aristocrat he’s ever met, with the tattoos, the attitude… and the way Crane seems determined to get him into bed. That’s definitely unusual. Soon Stephen is falling hard for the worst possible man, at the worst possible time. But Crane’s dangerous appeal isn’t the only thing rendering Stephen powerless. Evil pervades the house, a web of plots is closing round Crane, and if Stephen can’t find a way through it—they’re both going to die."] 

Read this if you like...magic and 19th century UK settings and snarky aristocrats who guard their hearts fiercely. The dynamic is fantastic, and the writing itself is gorgeous.

Whyborn & Griffin series, by Jordan Hawk - [GOODREADS BLURB: (Summary of Book 1) “Love is dangerous. Ever since the tragic death of the friend he adored, Percival Endicott Whyborne has ruthlessly suppressed any desire for another man. Instead, he spends his days studying dead languages at the museum where he works. So when handsome ex-Pinkerton Griffin Flaherty approaches him to translate a mysterious book, Whyborne wants to finish the job and get rid of the detective as quickly as possible. Griffin left the Pinkertons after the death of his partner. Now in business for himself, he must investigate the murder of a wealthy young man. His only clue: an encrypted book that once belonged to the victim. As the investigation draws them closer, Griffin’s rakish charm threatens to shatter Whyborne’s iron control. But when they uncover evidence of a powerful cult determined to rule the world, Whyborne must choose: to remain safely alone, or to risk everything for the man he loves.”] 

Read if you like... magic and the supernatural and 19th century US settings and Eldritch monsters and mystery and intrigue and adventure and era-appropriate treatment of homosexual relationships but with happy endings (and also couples of all types).

The Nightrunner series, by Lynn Flewelling - [GOODREADS BLURB: "When young Alec of Kerry is taken prisoner for a crime he didn’t commit, he is certain that his life is at an end. But one thing he never expected was his cellmate. Spy, rogue, thief, and noble, Seregil of Rhiminee is many things--none of them predictable. And when he offers to take on Alec as his apprentice, things may never be the same for either of them. Soon Alec is traveling roads he never knew existed, toward a war he never suspected was brewing. Before long he and Seregil are embroiled in a sinister plot that runs deeper than either can imagine, and that may cost them far more than their lives if they fail. But fortune is as unpredictable as Alec’s new mentor, and this time there just might be…Luck in the Shadows."] 

Read this if you like... magic, spies, fantastic female characters, adventure, and intrigue. Read also if you love looooong series, as it's complete at 7 books!

Scarlet and the White Wolf series, by Kirby Crow - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Scarlet of Lysia is an honest pedlar, a young merchant traveling the wild, undefended roads to support his aging parents. Liall, called the Wolf of Omara, is the handsome, world-weary chieftain of a tribe of bandits blocking a mountain road that Scarlet needs to cross. When Liall jokingly demands a carnal toll for the privilege, Scarlet refuses and an inventive battle of wills ensues, with disastrous results. Scarlet is convinced that Liall is a worthless, immoral rogue, but when the hostile countryside explodes into violence and Liall unexpectedly fights to save the lives of Scarlet's family, Scarlet is forced to admit that the Wolf is not the worst ally he could have, but what price will proud Scarlet ultimately have to pay for Liall's friendship?"] 

Read this if you like... weird twists on old fairy tales with amazing world-building, provided you're willing to put up with a little bit of a slog until the couple really gets on the same page.

Captive Prince, by C.S.Pacat - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Damen is a warrior hero to his people, and the rightful heir to the throne of Akielos, but when his half brother seizes power, Damen is captured, stripped of his identity, and sent to serve the prince of an enemy nation as a pleasure slave. Beautiful, manipulative and deadly, his new master Prince Laurent epitomizes the worst of the court at Vere. But in the lethal political web of the Veretian court, nothing is as it seems, and when Damen finds himself caught up in a play for the throne, he must work together with Laurent to survive and save his country. For Damen, there is just one rule: never, ever reveal his true identity. Because the one man Damen needs is the one man who has more reason to hate him than anyone else..."] 

Read this if you like... phenomenal skill with the written word (I mean REALLY TOP NOTCH), fantastic characters with real evolution in relationships, amazingly intricate political intrigue (guaranteed to keep you guessing the whole way), enemies-to-friends-to-"I think if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly"-to-...well, I won't spoil things 8D Please note the 'slavery' aspect that is heavily featured in Book 1. There is NO RAPE between the main characters, but there are forced sexual scenes between Damen and another minor character (n.b. minor as in not major, not minor as in a kid), and well, Laurent just isn't a very kind 'master', nor does he pretend to be. This is not your typical 'omg the slave falls in love with the master and vice versa!!' dreck, but do be aware that the first book deals intimately with those themes as Damen must play his part.

Wytch Kings series, by Jaye McKenna - [GOODREADS BLURB: (Summary of Book 1) "Prince Garrik is the Heir Presumptive of Altan, next in line to be crowned Wytch King. There’s only one problem: in order for Garrik to be crowned, he must possess Wytch power of his own, and thus far, whatever power Garrik might possess has shown no sign of awakening. As things stand, it is Garrik’s younger brother, Jaire — a dreamer completely unsuited to wear the crown — who will take the throne after their father. Concerned about the future of his kingdom, the Wytch King demands that Garrik’s power be forcibly awakened. Hoping to protect his brother from the burden of rule, Garrik allows the attempt — with disastrous results. Now, Garrik must learn to control the fiery dragon that rages within him before he destroys everything he loves. Wytch Master Ilya has been alone for years. Learning to control the icy beast slumbering within him has already cost him his family and his lover, and Ilya will never open himself up to that kind of pain again. Summoned to Altan to avert disaster if he can, Ilya has no intention of allowing anyone to thaw the ice in his heart. When he meets Prince Garrik, sparks fly, and Ilya finds himself fighting feelings he thought he'd buried, long ago. Can Garrik’s fire melt Ilya’s icy heart? Or will Ilya be forced to use his ice to quench the flames that burn within Garrik once and for all?"] 

Read if you like... DRAGON SHIFTERS. There's really not much more I can say to encourage you to read this series (there are five so far!) other than to say HERE THERE BE DRAGONS, AND LOTS OF THEM, AND HOT GUYS WHO TRANSFORM INTO THEM. The plots are interwoven, with side characters from previous books showing up as MCs in subsequent ones, so you get to see major characters fleshed out, even if not right away.

Mermen of Ea series, by Shira Anthony - [GOODREADS BLURB: (Summary of Book 1) "Taren Laxley has never known anything but life as a slave. When a lusty pirate kidnaps him and holds him prisoner on his ship, Taren embraces the chance to realize his dream of a seagoing life. Not only does the pirate captain offer him freedom in exchange for three years of labor and sexual servitude, but the pleasures Taren finds when he joins the captain and first mate in bed far surpass his greatest fantasies. Then, during a storm, Taren dives overboard to save another sailor and is lost at sea. He’s rescued by Ian Dunaidh, the enigmatic and seemingly ageless captain of a rival ship, the Phantom, and Taren feels an overwhelming attraction to Ian that Ian appears to share. Soon Taren learns a secret that will change his life forever: Ian and his people are Ea, shape-shifting merfolk… and Taren is one of them too. Bound to each other by a fierce passion neither can explain or deny, Taren and Ian are soon embroiled in a war and forced to fight for a future—not only for themselves but for all their kind."] 

Read if you like... MERMEN SEX. Again, not much more I can say to encourage you to read this XD There's mermen having sex in mer form, there's mermen having sex in human form, there's just lots of mermen and rather a lot of sex too. But there's also interesting plot! Though lbr if you're going to read this, it's for the mermen XD

[molicioushat]

How Ladies Die

An Analysis on Women and Their Deaths in A Song of Ice and Fire series

Preface

A year or two ago I read @joannalannister‘s post on the statistics of women dying in childbirth in ASOIAF and the historical  numbers.  And I was quite struck by this line: 

“The only way I could say whether GRRM’s share of female deaths in childbirth is higher or lower than the predicted 7% is if I had the total number of women in Westeros who die in childbirth versus the total number of female deaths, which isn’t a statistic I have.”  

So I started wondering how those numbers might have looked.  Of course I put that thought to the back of my head and moved on.  

And then this post came up more recently and I started thinking about it again.  I had been plowing through Fire and Blood and I was quite upset at Queen Alyssa Targaryen’s death, especially since I love ariel2me’s fics on Robar and Alyssa, (and I’m very upset at having those headcanons torn asunder, thanks grrm).  So I’m sitting there mulling over all this when I thought, “why don’t I make this list?” 

And I did.  I complied every woman I could find into this list.  And it is depressing.  And then I went and combed through the books to find women who died in other ways.  And it was depressing.  Because it was just so much violence.  Women were being raped and murdered all over the Riverlands.  War is hell and the innocents suffered the most, women and smallfolk, but especially if you were both.  I had to take a break from it, it was so awful.  

But I did it.  I made the lists.  So we can now analyze the data.

Analysis

Childbirth, and Dead Women  

These are most complete lists at this moment of 1/11/19  Now I might have missed some but we’re going to run with the data I have at this moment.  In the future, after we get more material, I may make more lists and another analysis.  

My method was to search the words, childbirth, childbed, labor, miscarried, miscarriage, killed, drowned, murdered, to find characters who died.  In addition, there were characters, like Queen Naerys for example, who I remembered off  the top of my head.  There are plenty of women who have died that we have no clue how they have died, such as Queen Mariah Martell, and the Unnamed Princess of Dorne.  Both are dead but we don't know how they died.  So I didn’t included them, though I probably should have.  I also didn't include women I suspected died from complications or partially due to childbirth, such as Lady Ashara Dayne, and Lady Waynwood, wife to Ser Denys Arryn.  Lady Ashara died from suicide, perhaps complicated by a post-partum depression?  And Lady Waynwood died from “grief” according to Littlefinger, and her newborn son died not long after her.  

As Ladies Die in Childbed has a total of 31 women 

As Ladies Die Part 1 has a total of 75 women

As Ladies Die in Part 2 has a total of 73 women

In total that is 179 Women

I would like to state that this is only a sample of the population of women.  As a sample this is not the complete picture, but it’s the best we have so far.  (Polling date pre-elections are based on a sample group of people meant to represent the population, but it’s not always accurate.)

Now we can take the 31 who died in Childbirth and then find the percentage out of the total 179 women.  We would arrive at 17.32% which is higher than @joannalannister‘s predicted 7%.  That's even higher than the 10% maternal mortality rate suggested by the Encyclopedia of Children and Childhood in History.

Okay, so let’s try and see if we get better number with only the women* who had children and how many pregnancies, and how many died.  So we have 136 pregnancies, and 26 women who died in relation to childbirth.  That’s a rate of 19.12%.  That’s even worse than the previous result!

Now I could add women like Queen Mariah Martell into my calculations, but I would like to stick with the data we have right now.  I could mess with the data a bit more but I think I’ve stretched it as far as I can.  So that leaves us with a 17.32% to 19.12% death rate.  That’s almost 1 in 5 women dying from childbirth.  That is just way too high!!  We know grrm can’t math but this is unacceptable.  I’m hoping we get more information in Fire and Blood volume 2 that will tilt the scale more towards, the 7% number, especially since we have the Great Spring Sickness.  I will say I am not looking forward to slogging thru TWOW, because it’s probably going to increase Ramsay’s kill count (and no one wants that) and that will be depressing to read.  Which would make this even more depressing.  

Feel free to use this data however you want.  If you want to try and calculate differently, please do, just link the pages if you decide to use them.  Also if you feel I missed someone please message me.  They won't be added to the current lists but they will be on the next ones.  

*note I will post the list of women I included for this if anyone wants, just can’t do it now.  

[gokinjeespot]

off the rack #1276

Monday, August 26, 2019

 Sorry for the lateness. I went fishing this morning with my buddy David and he brought his fly rod that he got recently. He's a novice but he caught two sunfish using it. That made me very happy as they were the first fish that he caught that way. Penny and I went to see a matinee at our local theatre earlier and I had to have words with a teenager who talked and then took out his phone during the screening. The second time he turned on his phone after I had asked him to put it away the first time he showed me no respect so I went and got a staff member to deal with him. By the time we got back to the theatre he had left with his friend but he still abused me verbally while standing at the exit doors. The kid couldn't have been more than 13. The language and disrespect was what upset me the most. I suspected they snuck into the theatre and the fact that they left before staff could deal with him confirmed my suspicions. I didn't care that they snuck in. If this kid had just sat and watched the movie I would not have had a problem with him. I must be an asshole magnet because the kid and his friend were the only other people in the theatre and they sat close to us.

 I picked up a copy of Marvel's "Heralds" trade paperback while working at the store last week and while reading the credits I see that it was lettered by Virtual Calligraphy's Clayton Cowles. So that's what the "VC's" stands for.

 Batman #77 - Tom King (writer) Mikel Janin & Tony S. Daniel (pencils) Mikel Janin, Norm Rapmund & Tony S. Daniel (inks) Jordie Bellaire & Tomeu Morey (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). A death in the family and this issue is in super high demand because of it. Damian tries to fight Thomas Wayne/Batman while Bruce is recovering under Selina's care. The prospect of the Bat Family gathering has me all excited.

 Daredevil #10 - Chip Zdarsky (writer) Jorge Fornes (art) Jordie Bellaire (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). We get a glimpse of real Daredevil action when Detective North is threatened by corrupt cops in his own precinct while Matt is there. Matt gets a visit from an ex that had me chuckling on the last page.

 Fearless #2 - This is an excellent anthology for young readers, particularly young female readers.

 "Campfire Song" part 2 by Seanan McGuire (writer), Claire Roe (art), Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) & Cardinal Rae (letters) sends Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel to the leadership camp where Captain Marvel, Storm and Susan Storm/the Invisible Woman are going to give keynote speeches. Something nefarious may be afoot.

 I liked "Night Nurse: A Cape of Her Own" by Karla Pacheco (writer), Iolanda Zanfardino (art) Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) & Cardinal Rae (letters). It's always a treat to see Night Nurse mending super powered people.

 To help get over the end of X-23's book Eve L. Ewing (writer), Alitha Martinez (art), Rosenberg (colours) & Cardinal Rae (letters) show us what Laura and Gabby are up to now.

 Ghost-Spider #1 - Seanan McGuire (writer) Takeshi Miyazawa (art) Ian Herring (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). So Spider-Gwen is now Ghost-Spider. She has dual dimensionship between Earth-65 and Earth-616. In her own dimension of Earth-65 everyone knows that she's Ghost-Spider but in Earth-616 where her secret identity is safe, she's just Gwen Stacy, freshman at Empire State University. Peter Parker helps to get her enrolled and now she can go back and forth taking classes and fighting crime. This is a good place to start if you're looking for another female super hero to follow but there wasn't anything really special in here to make me add this title to my every burgeoning pile of comics books that I want to read.

 Strayed #1 - Carlos Giffoni (writer) Juan Doe (art) Matt Krotzer (letters). In this new Dark Horse science-fiction book military scientist Kiara Rodriguez invents a device that allows her to talk to her cat Lou. The cat is special because it can astrally travel through space. Kiara's superiors are using her cat to conquer other planets and exploit their resources. They're the bad mans. This sounds familiar to me with Kiara's race being like Galactus and Lou like the Silver Surfer. I'm not much of a cat person so I'll pass on the rest of this story.

 Guardians of the Galaxy #8 - Donny Cates (writer) Cory Smith (art) David Curiel (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Rocket's back and we even get a mini origin story for the little furball. This issue also reveals what the Universal Church of Truth's very bad plans are. I loved seeing the cocoon. With the impending battle with Death, I'm wondering if Thanos is going to show up. This would be a cool way to bring the Mad Titan back.

 The Avant-Guards #7 - Carly Usdin (writer) Noah Hayes (art) Eleonora Bruni (colours) Ed Dukeshire (letters). The one and only basketball based comic book on the racks and it's a three points shot at the buzzer to win the game. I love the message about team work in this issue.

 Powers of X #3 - Jonathan Hickman (writer) R.B. Silva (art) Marte Gracia (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). This issue clears things up for me. Nimrod is the big bad guy and Apocalypse is a good guy in this story. I'm so glad they took last issue to explain Moira's character and her mutant ability because she's crucial to everything going on. If you're not reading this and House of X, you're missing out on a major event in Marvel Mutant History.

 Marvel Action Spider-Man #7 - Delilah S. Dawson (writer) Fico Ossio (art) Ronda Pattison (colours) Shawn Lee (letters). Introducing Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat. Her bad luck powers have Peter, Gwen and Miles all tangled up. They're going to have to learn to work together to keep her from stealing again.

 The Superior Spider-Man #10 - Christos Gage (writer) Mike Hawthorne (pencils) Wade von Grawbadger (inks) Jordie Bellaire (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Man, Spidergeddon sure did cast a wide net. So the super villain for this story is revealed to be the Norman Osborn of Earth-44145. He wants revenge for being humiliated by the Superior Spider-Man during the debacle with the Inheritors. But first Norman is going to kill everybody that Otto cares about. It's a tried and true basis for many a comic book story but it still works great.

 Superman Year One #2 - Frank Miller (writer) John Romita Jr. (pencils) Danny Miki (inks) Alex Sinclair (colours) John Workman (letters). Okay, so Clark trains to be a Navy Seal so that Frank Miller can set it up for him to meet and fall in love with Lori Lemaris and clash with her father Poseidon. It was a slog for me to read through this issue. I think Miller was trying for something epic like The Odyssey by Homer. I found that Clark's time in the navy was contrived, which soured my enjoyment.

 Valkyrie #2 - Jason Aaron & Al Ewing (writers) Cafu (art) Jesus Aburtov (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). Why is it that the death in Batman #77 is bigger than the death in this comic book? Bullseye somehow got his hands on Valkyrie's sword Dragonfang and Jane Foster has to take it away from the killer or else a heck of a lot of innocent lives will be forfeit. The last line of this issue made me groan.

 Year of the Villain: Sinestro #1 - Mark Russell (writer) Yildiray Cinar (art) Julio Ferreira (inks pages 21 - 26) Hi-Fi (colours) Steve Wands (letters). A solo story of Sinestro doing Lex Luthor's bidding. This story uses sentient nanobots which to me was a silly concept. I thought they did a good job showing how smart and arrogant Sinestro is but unless you're a Green Lantern fan you don't need to read this.

 Year of the Villain: Black Mask #1 - Tom Taylor (writer) Cully Hamner (art) Dave Stewart (colours) Wes Abbott (letters). This is a good origin story and sets up the villain for what's coming next. These Year of the Villain one shots are a good way for new fans to learn about these characters which should give them a better understanding of their involvement in the big picture.

[gaudeixcc]

Peloton news. G20 – the Pyrenees

A much more reasonable start to this year’s tour. No crazy-early alarm clocks, just a nice trip to the airport with only hand-luggage and a gently grumbling Macca.

Our favourite plane man had unbeknownst to me fired a very early warning shot regarding our mode of transfer on arrival in France.

At 5.50am, whilst shooting the breeze on my couch, McEvoy had enquired as to whom I’d booked the hire car with. The one which would take us to resort.

‘I dunno….it’s on the App’ sayeth I.

I had a quick look. Whoever the third party was, they had a stunning 6.5 out of 10 rating. Not quite M&S levels of service, granted, but still it’s on a trusted App, we are only using it to transfer, I’ve got insurance, it’s France for fucks sake. It’ll be quiet and I’m a capable and experienced driver…. Well, we’ll come back to that last bit shortly.

We get to Gatwick with ColMac and Drip in tow and await the arrival of HRH.

The first of many 2019 tour errors soon became massively apparent.

We’ve got two gingers on the trip. Fuck. How on earth did that get through the vetting process? I sent my beloved co-chair a text

‘JT, I’m at LGW. We’ve got problems…..’

Before too long Drip and HRH are bonded in conversation which carried over onto the flight. By the time we were at 30,000 feet they were each answering the others questions before they had even been asked. It was like listening to 2 people taking it in turn to read out just the answers on a bunch of Trivial pursuit cards.

Macca whispered to me whilst transfixed by this sight. ‘What’s happening over there?’

‘They are becoming one Macca, they are becoming one’.

By the time we had landed things had progressed further. They were now communicating with eyes closed with just index fingers lightly touching. Silence. Occasionally dripping would meow.

When we got to Toulouse we started the hunt for the hire car counter. The twin gingers (Twinge?) followed gently behind in a glowing orange aura.

Whilst all this was going on, I’d failed to notice that Macca had entered a worrying (and just about controlled) mental meltdown.

‘Where’s the hire car counter…? It’s off-site isn’t it… remote.. we’ll need to get a bus… not even in the terminal…what were they called again?’ he blurted out in staccato perfection.

‘er…. Gold cars’… sounded good to me. What could go wrong when you’ve got Gold in your company name?

Within minutes we were at the Gold counter waiting to be served.

Macca had moved to DefCon level ‘Blind-Frenzy’.

He’d got straight onto his iPhone and had a full list of every negative customer review for Gold cars. I’m in the queue and he’s jabbing the phone at me and saying ‘look’ in a high-pitched squeal, ‘Maureen from Romford….. she’s 97… and this is how they treat our British citizens..!!’

‘They’re going to sell us extra insurance and then steal all our money’.

At this point I was starting to lose my legendary zen-like calm.

Macca connected with his iPhone again and dialled up a quote for a Hertz rental car equivalent.

‘Look, we could have had this one’… and with that, he was gone. Off to the Hertz counter.

I queued quietly on my own. Drip had temporarily disconnected from the Twinge umbilical cord and was trying to locate Macca to gently nudge him toward the exit.

Right, I thought… time to get this car booked and get the hell out of dodge.

My turn came and I presented myself at the counter with my usual finesse. My mouth opened to speak and just as I was about to wish the nice lady a very good morning Macca arrived on my shoulder, phone gripped in fist and launches a barked question at the unsuspecting clerk.

‘WHY DOES YOUR COMPANY HAVE SO MANY BAD REVIEWS?’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO TO MAREEN!?’

Macca was metaphorically wrestled to the ground by airport security and tied to the nearest pillar using clingfilm and then gently tasered… (this was how my mind was dealing with the situation at any rate).

The rest of the mini-peloton looked onward in apathetic bemusement. None of them gave a flying fuck about the arrangements on the basis that if it all went wrong, I’d be the one getting all the shit and would subsequently have to get us out of the hole I’d dug.

3 pairs of peloton eyes would say ‘your name on the form, your fucking problem sunshine’.

Anyhoo… after the drama of the hire car counter (which went perfectly smoothly), we picked up the car (which went perfectly smoothly), and got ourselves in and ready to go (smooth… perfectly).

I then started to drive. Dear fucking god where the hell has my driving ability gone?

I tried to change gear twice with the door handle and got completely befuddled with the clutch before a near impalement with a coach at the very first roundabout.

There was a flurry of uncensored ginger telepathic communication in the back seat which I am sure ended with Drip saying to HRH ‘if he kills us now, I want you to know I love you’.

At one point early on in the journey, I drifted the car toward the right (something I’d done subconsciously, I suspect in an attempt to place my body in the middle of the road).

I had started to edge us toward an 18-wheeler in the next lane. I could see HRH in the rear-view mirror edging in to the middle of the car whilst breathlessly mouthing ‘watch out’.

White-knuckled hands gripped the wheel as I steadied myself. Drip, after further telepathic liaison with HRH suggested we listen to some music. No sooner thought than done, HRH racked up some impressive tune-age on the multi-media and we settled in to our journey to the Pyrenees.

Now this particular hire car was blessed with a behemoth-like engine of 1.0 litres of petrol frugality. Barely enough power to progress much past a standstill. With 70 stone of Peloton meat and gravy aboard, the thing struggled. The useless fucking clutch had zero feel and as the engine generated the mechanical momentum of a spinning 5p piece, so stalling was a regular occurrence.

4 of the 5 car inhabitants saw stalling not as a consequence of a shit car and 5 fat blokes, but more as an aching lack of talent on my part.

Worst was yet to come.

We entered resort and got to within 25 yards of destination when a tricky hill-start was required. Handbrake on, gentle rise of revs, I’ve got this. I’ve got this…..I didn’t have this.

I was about as far from having this as you can get whilst remaining in the same country.

The engine squealed, the clutch slipped, massively. NWA was turned down on Spotify and all we were left with was the stench of burning clutch.

I had a sinking feeling that I’d properly fucked the hire car.

Anyway, announcing your arrival in a plume of melted friction plates is how we rolled in team Gold car.

Greetings aside, quick sit down and then to the job of bicycling.

And so we return to the annual highlights list. A snap-shot of the rides and the riding from this year’s Grande Tour. But before we get to that, some stats.

The Rides

• Day 1. Lac d’estainge. Shortest ride at 32k but 3rd for overall ride gradient. • Day 2. Col des Tentes. A punchy 96k but a bit bleak on arrival at top • Day 3. Tourmalet. 101k. Great ending with really steep gradient for the last few hundred meters. You can see why it’s used on the tour so often. Fairly bleak riding through the town halfway up. Unrelenting 2 hours of climbing at over 8%. Brutal. Sensational ride home though through some beautiful countryside though • Day 4. Col d’Aubisque via Col du Soulor. Probably the ride of the tour in terms of utterly breath-taking scenery. Beautifully ribboned and freshly tarmacked road on the ascent, which I spent all my time on just thinking about the future descent. And then a jaw-dropping ride along a precipitous drop all the way to the top of Aubisque. A hard slog. Particularly on Soulor when a mid-teens ramp halfway up punches you right in the kidneys and jabs you in the eye for good measure. 2nd for overall ride gradient with 2.62% average for the total ride. Ouch • Day 5. Hautacam. Short out and back. 38k. God, that was one punchy climb. Kilometers click past and are either 8,9 or 10%. Felt unending. Overall ride average gradient of 3.1% made this the most climbiest rider per K we did.

The experience and the stories

• Good accommodation at the Pyrenees cycling lodge. Although Mark, our host, was somewhat perturbed to find Twinge v1.0 curled up and asleep at the foot of the front door on day 1. Twinge v2.0 preferred the comfort of the nest • Formal police notices issued for a range of offences including; the leaving of new tour top on the back of the chair overnight….shocking. The public dissing of one of the team whilst he was out on the hill. Police notice issued following a ‘whistleblower’ incident. • Yellow cap went to HRH on his maiden tour, but he was run very close by the impeccably dressed ColMac who, in my view, nailed the best single day performance with his well-judged blue accents matching the tour top perfectly. There was no suggestion of Twinge vote irregularities. Well, none were verbalised at any rate • JT won orange on the fact that he pulled his thumb out of his arse a couple of weeks before tour and did 2 or 3 turbo sessions. Everyone agreed that this sullied the good name of the Orange cap and that perhaps we should remember last year’s benchmark winner when awarding in the future. General shock and disappointment all round. At least one person cried. • The group as a whole consumed 18 complimentary fun-sized Mars each and every day. • I accounted for 17 of the above • Perfect weather • I’m not saying that sharing a room with Macca is like drawing the sleep equivalent of the short straw…….. this year’s tour saw ear-plugs land. At last we can now embrace our favourite  flyer like a long-lost brother..snore onward little one, snore onward • Biggest tour disappointment was the e-bike not running out of juice. At least 8 people prayed daily for this to come to pass • I only fell asleep twice this year at the various lunch stops… once in a deck chair next to ColMac whilst holding a pint (which I subsequently spilled on myself)…oddly enough, this incident went completely unobserved. Second time was at the top of Aubisque and lasted a nano-second. Not only was this observed but it was also filmed. Cat-like reflexes of the Pittock

….and so much more besides.

G19, a Grande Tour and huge success. My thanks go to JT for wrangling the accommodation with usual Teutonic efficiency and a huge shout out to Damo for driving all the bikes over there, complaining decidedly little and pandering to many a disorganised cyclist.

However in drawing to a close this year, I’d like to highlight 2 particular tour performances.

Firstly Dripping. The lad has had most of the bones in his body removed and replaced with man-made replicas. He has the back of a 90-year old and the combination of the 2 have meant that any sort of reasonable training regime was nigh-on impossible. He wasn’t ready to perform. At times he could barely walk straight let alone ride. To top it all off he’d had an epidural to release the muscles in his lower back, an injection which effectively puts your muscles to sleep, a consequence of which must undoubtedly seep into the legs one way or another.

Early on Tourmalet, and I mean really early, first 15 mins I reckon, I passed Dripping who was panting and out of the saddle, wrestling his bike reluctantly up an unrelenting climb.

It took me 2 hours. Drip spent an hour on top of that defeating his foe. 3 hours of climbing at over 8% in that condition. I don’t think there was anyone present on this tour who would have had the mental strength to achieve what Dripping achieved. I would have thrown my bike off a cliff having doused it in petrol and set fire to it long before the summit. Amesy wouldn’t have even boarded the plane. Clemo wouldn’t have left the bower.

As pink cap performances go, Dripping knocked it out of the park with gritted determination and practically zero complaining (apart from when our host effectively called him a vagrant for dossing in the hall).

The biggest problem Dripping now faces is going to be awarding the cap next year. He has shocking form in this particular decision-making department. Last time he did the honours he overlooked Damo’s stellar tour and gave it to James, who had pulled his thumb out of his arse and had done 2 or 3 turbo sessions. I swear to god I think I’ve seen JT do the old Obi Wan Kanobi Jedi mind tricks on awards night more than once…’there’s nothing to see here… move along’

In a bold future prediction, the G20 pink cap odds are currently, Damo 3/1 (patience and service of Drip’s woefully cleaned bike), JT 2/1 (Jedi), HRH evens (blood is blood).

Before we finish, time to look at things through a slightly different lens.

A coupla months back, I accompanied JT and his chum Neil (inventor of the petrol engine) on a wee trip to Austria. This was prior to JT putting in his incredible 2-3 turbo sessions I might add.  

As the wee-man and and I snuffled and puffed our way up Großglockner we both discussed the possibility of e-bikes on future tours. We saw families of all ages out on bike, often with the older generation right in the mix on their leccy MTB’s.

We loved being out on the bike but could feel the pain of the combination of hurt from lack of preparation, weight and age.

In a universe which sees entropy rule, moving order and structure slowly but inevitably into chaos, time is our enemy. We can fight and push but this ride is one-way only. It’s a big step to make decisions to tackle a harder path just to be able to enjoy the journey, but by chosing to go on tour with an e-bike this year, this is the path Moley chose. And he bloody loved every second of G20. Always smiling. Riding every mile. The e-bike enabled him to continue and properly enjoy the love of cycling in the big country with the boys.

He took a lot of shit for that decision. And indeed, can rightly expect to continue to do so. In fact, we are all still praying the fucker will run out of juice one day! But taking the piss is one thing, I actually think more than one of us looked negatively on the decision to do these rides on an e-bike. Almost as if it were cheating.

Now Moley may have had some assistance enjoying the trip, but he still had to put a shift in. And what else was he to do..? Not go, because he didn’t want to suffer and at some point, or even worse, fail over the 5 days?

Moley is the first person to take an e-bike on tour.

He will not be the last.

I want to ride as long as possible on a normal bike, but fuck me I’ll be e-biking it all the way if it’s a choice between doing or not doing.

Dripping aced pink on G19 with grit and utter determination.

Internally he said ‘fuck this, I’m going no matter what’.

Moley knew he would get a lot of stick for the e-bike choice.

Internally he said ‘fuck this, I’m going no matter what’.

That’s the spirit fellas.

G20, the summit, beckons. Majorca. The weekend of 25th April is looking likely. Gentlemen, clear your diaries. Gaudeix press release and invite to follow shortly.

Do 2 or 3 turbo sessions and a cap is more or less guaranteed.

Ride safely my lil fuckerinos….

Hoppo

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

FANFICTION.NET

TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 06: FATE OF THE GODS

QUEST SUMMARY:

The gods have returned to Gielinor, but something is preventing the arrival of Zaros. Jahaan is enlisted by Azzanadra to help bring his god back to their world, a task that would send him into the harshities of the Mahjarrat homeworld: Freneskae...

CHAPTER 1: WORLDS APART

Jahaan pried himself off the duvet the next afternoon in a puddle of drool. Not morning, no… he’d long since slept through that. Wiping his face, he tried to blink some of the sleep from his eyes and turn over, attempting to push himself up off the bed and gain a vertical base once more. It was an effort, but eventually he managed to fall onto the edge of the bed and sit upright, the room swaying and swirling before him.

That’s when a quick dash to the bathroom was in order.

Splashing his face with the icy cold stream from the tap, Jahaan looked up at himself in the small mirror and laughed humourlessly at his dishevelled reflection. As he tried to straighten out his locks of hair, so too did he attempt to piece together the previous night’s antics.

The destruction to the cabinet, alongside the spew of weapons cluttering the carpet, was proof enough that it was no dream. He’d caught Sliske in his disguise, and almost ended him too. For a brief moment, he had the upper hand.

However, with dismal realisation, Jahaan realised that, even with a bow and arrow trained on Sliske’s skull, he never had the upper hand.

Not against Sliske.

It was then he saw the letter from Azzanadra on the bed.

It definitely started out as a trudge as he made his way over to the coordinates Azzanadra had left him. Of course, he didn’t have a compass himself, and had to make a little pit stop at a small general store, which overcharged him for the pleasure of likely being the only customer that day.

Walking definitely helped his hangover start to ebb away, and before long the arduous slog of a journey turned into quite a nice walk through some unfamiliar, though quite beautiful, forest land. He hardly saw another soul on the entire journey.

A few hours later, the outline of Azzanadra’s unique headdress came into view, along with the rest of him, and Jahaan trotted over to the waiting Mahjarrat.

“Azzanadra!” he cheerily greeted. “Sorry for the hold up. Took me a while to find this place…”

Jahaan decided Azzanadra didn’t need to know about human hangovers, though he suspected in all his years he’d encountered quite a few inebriated fellows. It was more that he didn’t want to talk about it, in case the hangover heard him and maliciously returned for round two. Not exactly a logical train of thought, but he was rolling with it regardless.

“I am glad you could make it, Jahaan,” Azzanadra smiled warmly back it him, though his hand was twitching with impatience.

“So what are you doing out here?” Jahaan asked. “You were quite vague in your letter.”

“Such things could not be trusted to pen and papyrus, for I am here under direct orders from Zaros,” he stated with a smirk on his face that soap and water couldn’t wash off.

Raising an eyebrow, Jahaan replied, “Alright, but what do you need me for?”

“Rejoice!” Azzanadra cheered, emphasising his words with a loud clap. “The time for Zaros' return is at hand!”

Jahaan gasped. “Zaros is actually returning?”

“Yes. Guthix's death was a tragedy, but it has allowed all other gods to return. There is one final obstacle preventing Zaros' arrival, however. Once more, I request your services in the name of my lord. You, and only you, are capable of removing this obstacle. While you may not always have displayed an unerring devotion to Zaros, I need you for this, World Guardian. All disagreements between us are in the past. Any doubts you may have will be answered. Today, we shall truly see if you stand with Zaros, or against him.”

Well, this is a lot to take in, Jahaan thought to himself with an exaggerated exhale. Scratching the non-existent itch on the back of his neck was an excuse to distract himself from Azzanadra’s beady eyes, eyes that demand all, filled with palpable hope that could teeter any moment to rageful disappointment, depending on Jahaan’s response.

He did all he could to avoid meeting those eyes.

Zaros hadn’t played a major part in Jahaan’s life; he was the deity that he knew the least about, all things considered. Sure, he’d read the history books, overwhelmed by a Menaphite bias. He knew all of the Zarosian-Kharidian Wars in the Second Age. He knew about Zaros’ empire, and the rise of Zamorak that came from betraying his former master.

He knew overviews, broad opinions, and naturally, the tainted preachings from Azzanadra. He knew nothing about the deity that he could sink his teeth into, nothing he could get behind. Little information about Zaros’ beliefs or philosophies had been published. In fact, he was shrouded in so much mystery that many people believed the rumour that he was Bob the Cat, the most famous stray in all of Gielinor.

His dangerous curiosity getting the better of him, Jahaan agreed, “Sure, I'll help if I can.”

With a relieved sigh, Azzanadra’s smile grew broad and grateful. “Ever since you released me from my prison, I knew there was something different about you. I have had little reason to rely on humans, even fewer to call one friend... but you have proven yourself to me. I have faith that you will prove yourself once more. Not just to me, but to Lord Zaros himself. This will be a glorious day! Zaros awaits you through the World Gate. Will you go and assist him now?”

“Alright, but what’s the ‘World Gate’?” “It is a portal between realms, created by Guthix many millennia ago. While there are many portals that allow for travel from plane to plane, only the World Gate has the power to reach every plane in existence. Though, at present, it can only reach worlds that either Guthix or Zaros visited with it. To reach Zaros by any other means would require more power and time than is available to us.”

Jahaan looked all around him, scanning the barren, uninteresting surroundings. “Sooo... where’s the World Gate now?” “Why, it is right here, hidden in the Shadow Realm, away from prying eyes.”

“And how do we get it out of the Shadow Realm?”

There was a solid beat of hesitation from Azzanadra. “We... require the aid of another for this task.”

“Who?” there was a churning worry in the pit of Jahaan’s stomach. He had a good guess at who, but was praying to whatever gods were listening that he was wrong.

“I think you know all too well,” Azzanadra confirmed his suspicions. “I was unsure of this, but Zaros was clear.”

Jahaan’s heart dropped. “Oh please no…”

Light vanished; darkness slashed. When it all returned to normal, Sliske was standing opposite Azzanadra, sporting a smile that would almost be classed as friendly if it wasn’t for the self-satisfied glint in his eyes. With a theatrical gesture, he exclaimed, “Speak of the Mahjarrat, and he shall appear!”

Not having time for Sliske’s shit, Jahaan shot back to Azzanadra and stated, “I’m not working with him.”

“Oh come now, it’ll be fun!” Sliske’s honeyed voice dripped through everyone’s last nerve like acid. “I told you we’d make a good team.”

Begrudgingly, Azzanadra said, “We do not have a choice. Zaros was clear.”

His eyes whispered the ‘please’ that his lips missed, hidden among the explanation, “Sliske is the only one of us capable of drawing the Gate back into the material realm. I am not happy that we need him, but need him we do.”

Jahaan looked between Azzanadra and Sliske, realising that the chance of an alternative solution was growing rapidly dimmer. “Fine,” he resigned with a heavy sigh. “Let’s just get this over with. The sooner it’s done-”

“...the sooner you can, what? Go back to your aimless wanderings? Emptily threatening to kill me? Drinking with handsome strangers in bars?” Sliske completed, raising his brows with a patronising glare.

“Just tell me what needs to be doing,” Jahaan growled, instinctively taking a step back when Sliske moved towards him.

“Now now, no need to get all bothered. I just need to pull you into the Shadow Realm, is all.”

Before Jahaan could protest, Sliske grabbed his shoulder and shrouded the world in a bleak, damp cover. Cold air rattled through his lungs, but it was thick and clogging, and every movement felt like he was underwater. Everything around them had turned a dark shade of grey, shadows manifesting in threatening clouds around the trees. Azzanadra was there too, cloaked in shades. Jahaan went to call out to him, but Sliske stopped him, explaining, “He can’t hear you. Not well enough, at least, unless you feel like screaming into his ear. I doubt he’d appreciate that.”

Shadows danced around Jahaan’s form; he felt them like claws on his back. “No wonder you like this place so much. Come on, let’s get the World Gate and get out of here.”

Sliske wrung his hands together. “Now, let's not rush into things. I have a proposition for you…”

“Oh, here it comes,” Jahaan rolled his eyes. “You just can't help yourself, can you?”

“What can I say?” Sliske shrugged with a wide grin plastered across his features. “I am who I am. At least I'm consistent.”

“Aren’t you in a rush to get Zaros back?”

Laughing, Sliske replied, “Zaros has waited for thousands of years. A few more minutes won’t kill him.”

“You know, I don’t see you falling over yourself in worship of him like Azzanadra does,” Jahaan pointed out. “What do you really think of Zaros?”

Letting out a short, sharp laugh, Sliske replied, “Azzanadra is far too blinkered by fealty for his own good. But of all the gods, I like Zaros most. He just gets me, you know? He helped to make the world my playground. But he's been gone a long time and we're all getting on just fine without him. We don't need him. We don't need any gods.”

If Jahaan wasn’t mistaken, he detected a hint of urgency in his words, a slightly higher tone that betrayed something layered beneath his usually poised and conceited dialect.

“Oh, but I suppose we do need a sadistic Mahjarrat?” Jahaan countered, hoping to catch the tone again, to confirm his suspicions.

“This isn't about me.”

“Isn’t it?” Jahaan put his hands on his hips, a knowing smile tearing through Sliske, his body alive with confidence. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you don’t want Zaros to return. Is your loyalty that fickle, or are you scared claiming ascension might have some repercussions?”

“Loyalty goes both ways!” Sliske protested. “I see the truth, unlike pious Azzanadra over there. Oh, I still follow orders like a good little Mahjarrat, but I've always taken them more as… guidelines. I like to be creative.”

“So did Zaros order you to kill Guthix?”

Sliske’s hand danced around him. “That was more my... interpretation. Zaros wanted to return, but I saw the futility in bargaining with Guthix. I suspect Zaros knew that, but he's not exactly forthcoming.”

“And your tournament for the gods?” Jahaan inquired with interrogative undertones.

Sliske’s smirk was wicked. “Well, a Mahjarrat needs some fun too, you know. But Zaros wanted a diversion, so I gave him one. While the other gods are busy with their infighting, Zaros can return unchallenged and none will be the wiser.”

“So everything you've done has been for Zaros? You ARE still a loyal Zarosian?”

Contemplating this, Sliske replied, “After a fashion.”

“But now you're suggesting, what, that I should sabotage Zaros' return?” he shook his head in bafflement. “What game are you playing, Sliske?”

“What can I say?” Sliske’s palms were splayed outwards. “I'm complicated.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jahaan could feel a headache forming. “Thing is, you don’t exactly have a trustworthy reputation. Why should I even hear you out?”

“Because this time, trust or whatever you might think of me isn’t a factor,” Sliske’s smile was tight; that urgent voice was back. “Through that Gate you're on your own. Neither I nor Azzanadra can follow you. Ask Azzanadra if you don't believe me. I'm not fool enough to so openly disobey Zaros's orders. It will be just you and Zaros. You can see for yourself what he's like, and make up your own mind. All I'm suggesting is that you don't have to do what is asked of you. You always have a choice. As World Guardian, even he cannot force you - the decision WILL be yours. If you like Zaros, then by all means help him. But if you're opposed to him, now is your best opportunity to get rid of him for good, or at least weaken him further. The point is that, ultimately, HIS fate is in YOUR hands. And that, to me, is such sweet irony - it's what I live for.”

Jahaan looked up into Sliske’s eyes, trying to read them, but they were in a language he couldn’t decipher. So, he was hesitant to take the snake’s words at face value. If they were said by anyone else, he’d admit that they have a valid point, and that keeping an open mind was wise. Sliske had an ulterior motive though, and it pushed him away from rational thinking, into blindly going against anything and everything he said.

Which was stupid.

That’s stupid, Jahaan confirmed to himself, the throbbing in his head beating in time to his pulse. He has a point.

So, aloud, Jahaan agreed, “I'll keep that in mind.”

The smile Sliske returned wasn’t all that reassuring. “That is all I could ask for. Now, that's enough prattling - let's get this Gate back in the material realm.”

Sliske waved his arms outwards, then towards the World Gate; he looked like he was straining ever so slightly, like the look of someone lifting a rather large parcel but not wanting to show the struggle. Soon enough though, Sliske, Jahaan and the World Gate were back in the material realm, out of the clutches of the shadows.

The comparatively warm air of normality flooded back into Jahaan’s lungs, and he breathed it in greedily.

However, Jahaan didn’t get much time to enjoy before Azzanadra pressed, “What was the delay?”

“Oh, calm down, Azzy,” Sliske rolled his eyes. “Zaros isn’t going anywhere.”

Shooting Sliske a look, Azzanadra ushered Jahaan to one side and whispered, “You were in the Shadow Realm with Sliske for quite some time. I hope he wasn't filling your head with his nonsense.”

Understanding it was more of a question than a statement, Jahaan decided to spare Azzanadra Sliske’s poison. “Just his usual spiel.”

There was a hint of relief on the Mahjarrat’s face. Wryly, Azzanadra replied, “That can be damning enough. They don’t call him ‘serpent tongue’ for nothing.”

Obviously feeling left out, Sliske jeeringly exclaimed, “Big Boss to Bunny Ears! Big Boss to Bunny Ears! Come in, Bunny Ears!”

Azzanadra shot around to him. “Do not mock my hat! It deserves respect. It is a sign of my devotion, my position in the church.”

“A church that ceased to exist along with the Empire. It's about time you faced up to that.”

Azzanadra clenched his fists into balls; Jahaan could see the magic quietly pulsing at his fingertips, and prepared to dive out of the way if things escalated. Fortunately, Azzanadra managed to calm himself slightly, and the energy faded away. “One of these days I'm going to melt that smug grin off your face.”

Turning his attention to something productive - the World Gate - Azzanadra began altering the dials and coordinates on its surface, symbols written in an ancient language long-since dead and buried, but Azzanadra seemed to decipher it.

“I've taken the liberty of setting the Gate to where you'll be going,” he stated, standing back to admire the Gate as it whirred with a comforting hum. It wasn’t the largest of doorways; Jahaan would have to bend to get through. If he looked closely at the wavering, pulsing green energy that made up the window to the other worlds, he could make out shapes on the other side. Vague outlines, mind you. Only the bare basics. But it was surreal in its own right, to see into another reality. The feeling gave Jahaan goosebumps.

Azzanadra continued, “Once on the other side, everything is up to you. I am under orders to remain here, and I will ensure Sliske never leaves my sight.”

“Why the hostility, Azzy?” Sliske’s eyes flashed with… something. “We used to be such good friends, you and I. Back in the good old days in the Empire, back on Freneskae...”

Freneskae, the name snapped Jahaan back to the task at hand. “Is that where the World Gate is taking me?”

“Freneskae, yes!” Azzanadra cheered. “It is where all Mahjarrat originate. The untrained eye may call it ‘desolate’ and ‘inhospitable’, but a Mahjarrat can see its true beauty.”

At this, Sliske scoffed.

Raising a challenging eyebrow, Azzanadra said, “Something you wish to share, Sliske?”

“Freneskae is such a dull place; there's nothing to do there!” he whined. “Just rocks and lava, lava and rocks… so bland, so boring. Not like here - Gielinor is so much more fun!”

Pointedly ignoring Sliske, Azzanadra explained, “Zaros originates on Freneskae too, like the Mahjarrat. He was able to give us such an insight into our tribe, to provide us with the means to rejuvenate ourselves sparingly. You can see why we left Icthlarin for him. He is our progenitor, of sorts.”

Sliske rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, he’s our ‘saviour’, alright.”

“Are you really still hung up on that?”

“Zaros wanting to know our every move? Our every thought? Let's just say I'm not looking forward to having to file reports again.”

There was a trace of a smile on Azzanada's face. “As I recall, you always managed to do your own thing regardless.”

A thin smile crept into Sliske’s lips, and his eyes lightened. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Azzanadra motioned for Jahaan to approach the World Gate, which he did with slight trepidation. “Step through when you are ready, World Guardian. The Empty Lord awaits…”

Bracing himself, Jahaan took one last look back at Azzanadra for reassurance, then one last look at Sliske, who’s eyes were fixed upon him, like he was watching an actor on the stage.

“Alright,” he exhaled deeply, hands resting on both his swords. “Here goes nothing…”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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[jwgammuto]

WWE Raw Review for 12/17/18

Not too many more Good, Bad, and WTF segments left in its rookie year but we’re gonna go ahead and channel our inner Obama/Vincent Kennedy McMahon and talk about change this week. Did Vinny Mac shake things up or piss in the fans’ collective faces with hollow fan service? Let’s find out nowish!

The Good: I’m sure you all figured I’d start with the state of the tag division and The Revival and you were right. This is a start. What concerns me is Vince is very reactionary when it comes to crowd pops. The right team won this #1 contender fatal four way but the crowd didn’t go nuts when they won and they did seem to love the Lucha spots in the match. Don’t listen to them, Vinny. They’re idiots. I like crazy high flying spots from insane athletes too and maybe The Revival’s serious heel schtick won’t work as well on Raw as it did in NXT but you should find out for sure. These guys can go, they have an awesome finisher, and they can cut a better promo than any other team in the company except maybe Adam Cole and the Undisputed Era. Whether this is a few week program or they take the belts off Power and Glorious right away is a matter of opinion. But Shatter Machines for e’erybody.

Bane Ambrose’s promo and subsequent open challenge met by Tyler Breeze. This was a necessary follow up to an underwhelming match at TLC that wasn’t met well by internet snobs like me. Dean’s in ring work isn’t the best right now but he’s making up for it by really embracing this heel character. Breeze is a talent with a stupid gimmick but he looked good despite the obvious loss coming his way. Rollins using the old “disguised as security” trick to get the drop on Ambrose is unoriginal but effective. I dig it.

Finn Balor vs Ziggler. This was the match I was looking forward to but sadly was cut short and we were robbed of a clean ending thanks to the only member of 3MB who hasn’t held a main roster title. This makes sense but I really wanted a better end for a good match.

The Bad: The hour long Women’s Gauntlet for a shot at Rousey’s Title. I have deeply mixed feelings about all of this. It wasn’t awful. Some of it was really entertaining and some not so much. But when the McMahons come out and say “change is coming and we want our fans to be excited” and serve them up an entire slogged hour of a gauntlet match where 3/4 the participants aren’t over, it creates skepticism. The crowd was dead throughout the vast majority of this. Bayley shines here selling a knee injury and still gutting out a couple wins, and Moon continues to improve. Also, has their ever been one of these women’s gauntlet type matches where Banks wasn’t last in? Is she being protected? Is the Legit Boss sleeping with The Boss? Natty was an obvious choice given her relationship with Ronda, but they had a golden opportunity to turn her instead of the lame hug/respect angle to close the show. Yes we’ve seen lots of Big Showesque heel turns lately but this one made sense and would have ended the show on a really high note and amped me for next week. Or even have Ronda turn and really shock me. Show me change!

The opening segment. It’s ironic how much live crowds love Vince despite knowing he’s the direct reason the show sucks when it does. I’ll start by saying this whole act went on far too long. Everybody got an entrance. That’s about 8 minutes alone. Then the hollow promises of change. Now I understand Rome wasn’t built in a day but don’t tell us we’re getting fresh matchups and what we want and then immediately serve us a damn near exact repeat of last night’s TLC match with Corbin and Braun with Angle instead. Rollins and Ambrose. Still going. Lashley and Elias. Still going. McIntyre/Balor/Ziggler. Still. Effing. Going. It’s not that the ship can’t be righted, it’s that it feels deeply unlikely that it will be. The truth is, it will probably be better because the ratings are actually in the shitter and they do have to do something. But radical change is not something a global company like this does well. We’re still gonna get stupid convoluted Saudi Super shows that derail storylines because money and they’re still going to push who they want when they want and bury who they want when they want. We, as fans, have an impact, but not a say. Don’t insult us.

The WTF: Money Scented Chris Masters and Elias. What a monumentally bad feud this is when Elias isn’t allowed to do the talking. Sadly, I don’t think it’s over. So much more of Lashley’s Ass being narrated by Flavor Flav to come. This is not change.

Promos for returning and called up stars. Love Owens and Zayn and glad they’ll be back. Not together please. It’s time for Owens to take back his rightful place on the card and ditch the bestie act. Zayn is a hell of a performer. He can find a niche without relying on KO. As for the NXT call ups, I’m conflicted. Evans should go to Raw. They desperately need a good female heel to fill the void left by Alexa Bliss and they appear to refuse to push Ruby Riott. EC3 has the look and the gimmick but his success will heavily depend on who they book him against to start. Feels like a Raw guy as well. Heavy Machinery is fun both on the mic and in the ring, maybe I’m biased but I would have preferred the Street Profits. They can job and still be fun. No need for them to be in the title picture. I’m not sure Heavy Machinery has that ability. Nevertheless, please go to Smackdown so we can see someone else feud with rotating three team Axis of Doom. Nikki Cross will only fit in with Sanity but that only works if they’re a faction and they’re actually on TV, which they aren’t. So Smackdown I guess but it probably won’t matter. Sad. And finally, of course, the next guy to get rammed down our throats, The Dude with “Lars” on his ass. I was sure he would debut to destroy Corbin last night. I was wrong. I guess it makes more sense for him to go to SD Live but who do you book him against? Is he a heel? Guess we’ll find out in the coming weeks.

Preview for next week. Lashley and Elias in a Miracle on 34th Street Fight. No. Corbin and Rollins. Saw it last week. Natty and Ronda. Stop hugging and fight. Ziggler/McIntyre/Balor. This is change?

They say they recognize that change is needed and Corbin isn’t calling the shots. That’s a start. Scapegoating Baron is a shitty move but if he remains on the roster, he certainly has heat. So that’s a win, no? No Bliss on this show was an odd choice. The Christmas Eve show is already looking suspect. Change takes time, but I’m not seeing an overwhelming commitment yet. They get one Hogan Belt Whip for The Revival and half a Hogan Belt Whip for not letting Banks win the gauntlet. See you guys next week for Krampusnaucht!