#Only thing here not literal and the usual vision dictating is the dream part but like it's... Close enough to how visions work

[abyssalpriest]

30 Days of Them #2

Your God comes to you in a dream one night when you are alone in your bed. They whisper something into your ear, lovingly - but it felt like a warning. What did They tell you?

---

"There is nothing I could tell you that you don't already know."

I dream in the expanses of his mind in a place equally as strange as it is familiar. The walls ache with pressure, though perfectly vertical their imposing nature makes them seem to curve inwards, threateningly. They're dark bookshelves - that being the closest word in English, more like shallow compartments - endless little cubed shelves holding a strange array of... Cubes. Cubes of spirals but in four dimensions, as if the 2D line that encompasses a spiral's make-up was transmuted dramatically and inexplicably into 3D. They're all different, too, though the theme seems to be the same: little hand-sized cubes of varying levels of cohesion and self-similarity and symmetry. Some have colour, others don't, some are strangely triangular, some spirals flip direction, many have some sort of emanating - or imploding, or stationary, or spiralling, or whatever else - aura with them like 3D portals, visualisations of gravitational pulls and - he corrects me: "Writing." These auras are writing. "They're books."

He picks one off the shelf; his mood seems tinged with excitement as he holds it in his hand.

"Have a look." I - "I'll tell you what it is. Red. Inwards yet outwards. It wants to move outwards so it gives the appearance of moving outwards but it is a three-dimensional optical illusion. It is a 'sweet thing'. It is you. A cherry red. This -" he pulls back the scene behind him which had extended into these rows of compartments... Like a curtain. Compresses the scene into two dimensions and pulls it bunching the fabric of it's reality, revealing what seems to be the inside of one of these cubes. I feel the smile pull at his lips as I call it that. It's huge, though. It emanates, it contorts reality around it. It is deep, deep black encircled by a hungry, visceral, erogenous red.

"This is your warning." He implies with energy he means the thing behind the curtain is the warning. "Follow me."

With absolutely no hesitation he puts the cube he held back on its shelf and slips into the gravitational centre behind the curtain. I follow, of course I do, on the other side is -

[salty-donut-collecter]

Why Stay?

Act II, Part One

Twenty-Seven   {Masterlist}   Part Two

Chapter Word Count: 1,652

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety mentioned, yelling, talk about bones breaking, insults

Please tell me if I need to tag anything else :)

*Also, I’m planning on having this story as a slow burn, so please be prepared :)

Prompts: “Do I look like I give a fuck?”, “I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I’m feeling a lot of  it.”, and “Not to dictate your life, but drop your shitty friends.”

A/N: It’s been a bit, but I’m glad I have a system for this stuff now! Lmao this story is gonna have you guys dying, but I hope you like it nonetheless. 

Happy reading! (Also, feel free to comment your thoughts! I love reading comments :))

Also, if you’d like to be added to the tags list, please let me know! :D

_____________________________________________________

You woke up on Saturday morning, a headache forming as you tried to remember what you’d dreamed.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, getting up and stumbling around in the dark until you got into the dark hallway.

Jesus, what time is it? You wondered, looking around at how dark it was. You looked at your smartwatch (something Katie had left in your room for Christmas), sighing as it read 1:22 am because you knew there was no chance you would be able to go back to sleep now.

Okay… you took a deep breath, I guess today is just going to be a lot longer than planned.

And indeed it would.

Now, you didn’t really think the day was long…. Until Micheal called a “family meeting”, which really just meant y’all had to sit in a room and listen to him before discussing a topic he’d introduced. (The last topic you’d witnessed was furries and kinks because he wanted to see Steven die a little on the inside. (You all know he’s a kinky bastard at heart))

You sighed, wondering how long this one would take because you’d been getting ready to try and sleep again. However, you were intrigued to find he was holding a meeting in one of the kitchen rooms, which was just a room with a huge ass table that could fit the whole family. (So this would be the equivalent to a normal family’s kitchen table.)

You sighed and made your way up there, making sure to be the last person in the room so you could sit next to Micheal, letting Maverick take the right side, while you sat on his left.

“Okay, so I know it hasn’t been that long since Y/n’s been back,” Micheal gave a little eye roll, “Buut, I also don’t care.” he shrugged, holding a hand around his torso in a way you found particularly interesting.

“So, due to my inability to give a shit, and my abundant need to call family meetings, I decided to quell my raging curiosity,” Micheal smirked a little, clearing his throat and demolishing all visible joy as quickly as it came. He then proceeded to open his jacket, extract a familiar folder from under his shirt, and toss it far onto the table, where it flew open and spread its’ contents out for everyone to see.

“So,” Micheal looked at you, his contact lenses red because he was into that, “Care to tell me what this is?”

You had no doubt in your mind that he had already read it, and been furious about it. This told you he already knows everything in that folder by heart, and he was ready to both defend you, and rip the team a new one, which was something you actually found refreshing.

“It’s a file of the information I gathered to quell my own curiosity, actually.” You mused, sitting back and letting your feet sit up on the table. Your chair tipped a bit, but you didn’t mind it much.

Clint was doing the same things, actually. You had a small leaning competition as the conversation continued.

“What were you curious about?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

You smirked, taking a break from you small competition as you sat upright again, “I thought you had powers, actually, and no one gave me the answers I needed to make a proper conclusion.” You shrugged, “So I looked into it myself and got kicked out of the Teen Titans.”

Steve glared at you, “Nobody kicked you out, Y/n. You left because you didn’t want to face the consequences of your actions.”

You chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t know getting my jaw broken by your shield in a world I made just for you was an invitation to stay and continue to be an Avenger…” You looked up quizzically, “Come to think of it, accusing me of killing people behind your back because I’m an apparent rage monster also didn’t seem like a part of the welcome wagon-- wow, Steve, if you’re so good with etiquette and I’m so bad with it, you should probably teach me-- oh wait, you did, didn’t you? After I’d just gotten here? I’m sorry I failed as a student. It’s just so--”

“Y/n, that’s enough.” Rhodey deadpanned, glaring at you from next to an already peeved Tony. Guess they didn’t get much sleep either. “We’re all happy to have you back, trust me.”

Clint laughed, “Wow, Rhodey, that’s rich!” he sat up, arms softly landing at the table as he looked at the Iron Patriot, “You really wanna go down that route? The whole: yeah, we’re happy to see you again, even though we literally accused you of being a psycho killer last time we talked, but hey! It’s all good now, right? Cause Jesus Christ dude!” Clint laughed, “She literally ran around the fucking w o r l d so she could get a break from our fugly mugs. So I say we give her one. There’s no need to drag this on, Steve.  Little girls wouldn’t be leaving Christmas presents in her room if she was a horrible person.” Clint rolled his eyes, already done with the conversation that’d just started.

“Barton, we’re trying to--” Vision started

“Don’t give me that logical bullshit cause that’s not happening right now. You, Vision, can logic your way into and out of this, but them? Yeah, no. They don’t have the goals you do, and it’s fucking time you realize how biased they are.”

“Okay, but my husband was literally the Winter Soldier.” Steve deadpanned.

Clint gave him the weirdest smile, “And he had a type of microsurgery done on him that was very painful and unsafe to get HYDRA out of his head.” his smile dropped, “We fucking been knowing about your husband, Steve. The thing is, no one cares anymore because he took care of that problem as a consenting adult.”

“I don't need a surgery.” You gave the people at the table a weird look, wondering if the kids should’ve been invited to this conversation. You felt a small finger tap your lower shoulder. You flinched, but calmed down when you saw Katie.

She motioned for you to come closer, so you leaned down to her level.

“Can I sit in your lap?” She whispered, lifting her arms up so you could lift her.

You chuckled, “Of course, my smol bean.” you replied, gently grabbing her under her armpits and lifting her into your lap, where you’d crossed your legs so she’d be comfortable. You looked over to see Chloe itching at her arms. She’s getting anxious.

“Okay but guys,” Micheal’s voice somehow transpiring over everyone else’s with great intensity. “You’re failing to answer my question.” He looked down at you, as if knowing something you should know too. (Really you thought of it as only half of “sharing a knowing look”)

You just shake your head, nothing coming to mind for now. He also shook his head, disappointed in you for some reason.

Micheal turned to the rest of the adults, looking peeved as per usual.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?” He asked, changing the question to better their ability to answer.

Everyone was quiet. The less everyone spoke, the more upset you got with their inability to take responsibility for their forgivable mistakes. You understood the fact that it was a hard thing to do sometimes, but this was getting fucking ridiculous.

“Okay, I get that this is hard for you but honestly grow the fuck up.” you snapped, your eyes rolling as you moved Katie over a little bit. It’s not like you needed to be screaming in her ear-- she didn’t do anything wrong and was too cute for that anyway.

“Y/n there’s more to this than--” Stephen started, but the excuses were honestly too annoying to listen to again.

“That I obviously know about cause I’m a stupid teenager.” You angrily sighed, “So I’ve heard. However, I’ll also say that we can’t do shit about the other things at hand if you’ve never bothered to-- I dunno-- talk about them?” You huffed, your knee bouncing as you try to maintain your composure. Katie is looking more anxious by the minute.

“Y/n, will you be okay?” Katie asked.

You gave her a sorrowful look. You were almost mad at Micheal for bringing her and Chloe into this.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay sweet pea,” you assure her, sounding sweeter than honey on top of Turkish delight.

Your gaze returned to the conversation at hand, which had actually gotten really heated within the couple of seconds you’d left for. Okay then.

“I don’t have to explain myself to an overgrown lab rat.” Stephen snapped, pointing at Pietro from his place at the table.

You stood up, Katie in your arms for only a moment before you quickly set her down. “Stephen, we don’t need to turn this into a fight.” You cautioned, your eyes starring the Master of The Mystic Arts with a flash of anger.

“She’s right, Stephen.” Tony was also standing, looking at Strange with quite the opposite look. You hadn’t seen Tony look that concerned for someone in a while.

The air was tense. Having so many emotions in one room was bound to create trouble, but the type of trouble was a mystery to everyone, causing a subtle fear that only stirred the pot more.

“Stephen, what kind of trouble are you talking about?” Steve jumped in, also standing.

You were surprised by his random aid to your side of the argument, but you decided that it was the least of your worries right now. Your hand gently squeezed Katie’s, momentarily reassuring her after hearing her softly whimper.

Stephen glared at Steve, as if wondering if he should answer him honestly, or tell him to shut the fuck up because he’s been nothing but unhelpful this entire time.

Well, you were screwed.  

_____

Taglist: @introvertedsin @galacticalstarcat @acidrain707

[oscopelabs]

Ignite the Light: How Katy Perry’s “Firework” Brings Scenes From Three Very Different Movies to Life by Josh Bell

When Katy Perry’s “Firework” begins playing for the first time in Jacques Audiard’s Rust and Bone, it’s not especially noticeable. The song is part of the background music at Marineland, the aquatic park where Stephanie (Marion Cotillard) works as an orca trainer, one of several upbeat pop songs that serve to get the crowd excited during the routine animal performances in the outdoor amphitheater. It’s only after the minute-long section of the song has ended, and the soundtrack has shifted to tense orchestral music, that it becomes clear how indelibly “Firework” will be seared into Stephanie’s psyche, probably for the rest of her life.

The presence of contemporary pop songs like “Firework,” especially in mainstream Hollywood movies, is usually unremarkable and often little more than an afterthought, with songs just as likely chosen for marketing purposes as for artistic ones. But filmmakers with strong visions can harness the undeniable power of a huge pop hit like “Firework” and transform it into an essential storytelling tool, as Audiard does in Rust and Bone and as the directors of the far more multiplex-friendly movies The Interview and Madagascar 3: Europe’s Most Wanted do as well. It may be a coincidence that the filmmakers behind all three movies chose “Firework” for the most pivotal and memorable moments in their films, but it’s no coincidence that Perry’s empowerment anthem has the ability to speak to artists with very different creative goals.

Written by Perry along with Ester Dean, StarGate, and Sandy Vee and taken from Perry’s 2010 album Teenage Dream, “Firework” is one of Perry’s biggest hits, and it seems tailor-made for the movies, with its soaring earworm chorus and its inspirational lyrics that are specific enough to stick in your mind (the singular use of “firework” is especially uncommon) but generic enough to apply to almost any situation involving believing in yourself and pursuing your dreams. It’s not necessarily a great song, but it’s the right song for what each of these films is aiming to convey at a particular moment.

The second time that “Firework” surfaces in Rust and Bone, about 50 minutes after the first, its significance is clear: Stephanie is now in a wheelchair, following an accident that left her legs severed below the knee. The choreographed performance between orcas and trainers, set to “Firework,” was the last thing she experienced before her terrible injury, and the song is now a symbol of the life she’s lost and has struggled to rebuild. Much of that rebuilding has come from her burgeoning relationship with Ali (Matthias Schoenaerts), an underground mixed martial-arts fighter and itinerant laborer who has shown her more compassion and patience than anyone else in her life. The two have just had sex for the first time, in a scene that is sweet and passionate and a little awkward, and Ali has left Stephanie’s apartment with a casual farewell that doesn’t match her clearly stronger feelings of attachment.

Vulnerable yet undaunted, Stephanie sits on her balcony, Audiard’s camera first capturing her from behind. As Audiard cuts to a side view of Stephanie, she slowly starts miming the hand motions from her aquatic performance, first in silence and then as “Firework” gradually fades in on the soundtrack. As it does in most instances in all three of these movies, the song begins here with the line “Ignite the light and let it shine,” sparking the light in Stephanie’s eyes as her hands are outstretched and open. The song builds to its chorus as her motions become more confident, forceful. Her expression goes from wistful to triumphant, her hands poised and powerful, pumping to the beat. As the song continues to play, Audiard cuts to Stephanie, using a cane and her new prosthetic legs, walking for the first time into the empty amphitheater where she used to perform. She’s finally found the inner strength to confront her trauma, and while a lot of that came from Ali, plenty of it came from Katy Perry, too.

There’s a surprising amount of emotional power to the use of “Firework” in Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg’s The Interview as well, even if it first appears as the target of a somewhat obvious joke. Vain talk show host Dave Skylark (James Franco) and his more pragmatic producer Aaron Rapaport (Rogen) have traveled to North Korea to interview dictator Kim Jong-un (Randall Park), an apparent superfan of Dave’s vapid celebrity-interview show. They’ve also been tasked by a CIA agent (Lizzy Caplan) with secretly assassinating Kim, although Dave has started to bond with the lonely despot, who has a secret fondness for cheesy American culture.

What better representative for bubblegum American pop in the early ’10s than “Firework”? When Dave and Kim are sitting in a Soviet tank that Kim says was a gift to his father from Joseph Stalin, Dave turns on the internal sound system, to Kim’s protests, and soon “Firework” starts playing softly (beginning, of course, with “Ignite the light and let it shine”). Kim stammers that he’s never heard the song before, but Dave the ugly American loves Katy Perry, and immediately starts singing along. That opens the flood gates for Kim, who admits to loving margaritas and identifying with the opening line of “Firework.” “You know Dave, sometimes I feel like a plastic bag …” he begins, and Dave finishes: “Drifting through the wind?” Kim does a little dance, and their bond is solidified.

Rogen and Goldberg cap the joke by turning the volume up on “Firework,” shifting it from the tinny diegetic sounds of the tank’s internal speakers to blaring and pulsing on the soundtrack, over a montage of Dave and Kim triumphantly riding the tank through the adjacent woods, and then blowing up a bunch of trees as they sing along to Perry’s “Boom, boom, boom!” “Firework” goes from a secret guilty pleasure to the anthem of their friendship and their glee over wanton destruction.

It’s a silly, fun bit in a movie that mostly exists to turn serious geopolitics into silly fun, but that fun takes a dark (if still comedic) turn when “Firework” comes back near the end of the movie. Now disillusioned about their alleged friendship, Dave wants to expose Kim as a fraud, during the internationally televised interview. Pressing Kim to reveal his emotional weaknesses, Dave pulls out the one thing he knows will get a response: “I just have one more question for you: Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?” As Dave sings the lyrics, Kim breaks down crying, revealing to the world that he’s a scared little boy inside. If it’s possible to feel sympathy for a cartoonish version of Kim Jong-un in a gross-out comedy, then this is the point at which that happens.

Directors Eric Darnell, Conrad Vernon and Tom McGrath don’t have nearly as much on their minds for their use of “Firework” in the third Madagascar animated movie, but the song nevertheless provides the backbone for the movie’s most visually inventive sequence, probably the most memorable moment in the entire Madagascar series. For reasons that are far too convoluted to get into, the series’ main zoo-animal characters—lion Alex (voiced by Ben Stiller), zebra Marty (Chris Rock), hippo Gloria (Jada Pinkett Smith) and giraffe Melman (David Schwimmer)—are hiding out with the animals of a circus traveling through Europe, and they need to wow an American promoter in order to get a contract to perform in New York City (which will bring the zoo animals home).

After witnessing the sad state of the circus acts, the main characters take it upon themselves to overhaul the entire show, despite their complete lack of circus knowledge. There certainly isn’t a lot of realism in the Madagascar movies, but Europe’s Most Wanted takes things in an especially absurdist and surreal direction, even before the trippy “Firework” sequence, which is entirely divorced from physics or logic. The make-or-break performance opens with surly Russian tiger Vitaly (Bryan Cranston) attempting to re-create a legendary stunt that went wrong, as he jumps through a flaming hoop that looks about the size of a wedding ring. After he somehow manages that feat, the crowd goes wild, and Vitaly extinguishes the tiny ring of fire, picks up the baton that was holding the ring and places it in the ground—and the movie transforms into a kaleidoscopic dreamscape.

There’s no gradual fade-in as “Firework” starts here; this is not a movie interested in subtlety. Once again, it begins with “Ignite the light and let it shine,” and the light here is literal: There’s an explosion of color as Vitaly’s baton activates a swirling, multi-colored platform like something out of a Las Vegas Cirque du Soleil show, only reaching impossibly high, taller than even the tallest circus tent. There’s no sense of physical limitations as the movie presents a bear on a motorcycle riding perpendicular to the crowd in the stands; dogs on rocket-powered skates shooting out what look like actual fireworks; Alex and sultry jaguar Gia flinging themselves about on rings of pure colored lights (which then become cannons to shoot other animals into the air); Melman and Gloria walking tightropes that are simply beams of light; and elephants shooting multi-hued flames from their trunks. The crowd goes wild, but it’s impossible to tell where the crowd even is, in relation to the performers.

On the Europe’s Most Wanted DVD commentary track, the directors note that editor Nick Fletcher specifically cut the circus sequence to “Firework,” demonstrating how important the song was to the movie’s development. Rogen, too, notes the importance of “Firework” to The Interview’s creative process in his DVD commentary: “Katy Perry is fucking cool as shit, and the fact that she let us do this is cool as shit,” he enthuses in his typical blunt manner. For his part, Audiard is more reserved about Rust and Bone’s wheelchair “Firework” scene, although it’s easily the movie’s most emotionally powerful moment, and a distillation of Cotillard’s masterful performance, as she conveys Stephanie’s difficult journey in just a few looks and hand movements. It was Cotillard, Audiard says on the movie’s commentary track, who convinced him to shoot the scene, which was initially just two lines in the script that he wasn’t sure he wanted to include. He ignited the light, and then she let it shine.

[chansondesalleurs]

Picking up a tag from @natsumi82​ and @theon-greyjoy-has-a-good-day​ who gave some A+ answers in their turn, and are super-fun and loving all-round. I only want to apologize for what I deem an awful lot of toing-and-froing in between trying to make sense of my own inclinations and individual preferences – it really was a case of a surprise host of half-formed ideas collapsing in on themselves before they could get past that early developmental stage – and scouring my mind for outcomes to go with a piece that is easy to assemble and assumes a larger perspective than even a cursory reading of the characters involved would have me adopt.

I am crazy attached to some of these folks, and I wanted to be able to think things through to ensure that the underlying aspects and idiosyncrasies attained their most vivid expression and slotted right into place in my head.

Basically my answers for the ubiquitous A Song of Ice and Fire ensemble – guessing you can pick any fandom, though?

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag seven people.

• First character I fell in love with: Daenerys – like many others, be it part of GRRM's earliest fanbase or stumbling into fresh territory through an episode or ten of the famed television series, royal exile Daenerys and her entourage were my introduction to some of the author's most varied, diverse even, work to this day. I remember being handed a copy of the first volume in the series to look over at my leisure, and whether a closer squint was enough to hold my attention, when my folio fell open in the middle of a pretty engrossing Dany chapter. I am not a hugely sentimental person when it comes to fictional characters, and I rarely, if ever, loosen up enough to allow myself the occasional sniffle, all the same I kept rooting for Dany to bail the crap out as she gamely went through the rigmarole of pitiable deprivation and a dearth of general levity, with no real sense of belonging and the looming absence of lasting familial comforts to prospectively sketch her demands of the world and help ease her way through life.

Dany's overreaching arc is essentially about being displaced. It's not that she accepts her marriage to Drogo (she doesn't) any more than she wishes for the cruelty visited on her by Viserys to continue – including, apparently, a measure of sexual cruelty – or the material eschewal of what property they may yet stand to salvage to endure, barely more than a girl herself, if ironically old enough to see through her brother's illusions of grandeur, and just as conscious of his manifest shortcomings. We talk a lot about the moral and social dilemmas that face Daenerys on the heels of her outlandish fire and blood, birth-of-the-dragon one-off, which likewise marks the high point and execution of a narrative crescendo laden with symbolism in the structuring of ASoIaF's three-act fantasy plot. A similar consideration is whether a uniform, non-peddling approach to competing claims of distinction and the gamut they seem to run from “Dany is a petulant child monarch with questionable ethics and twice the gall that renders one a liability more than an asset” to “Dany is Mary Sue-material, and I'm an owl” is tenable. I'd be lying if I said that the love I have for the Mary Sue type myself is circumstantial and a little tongue-in-cheek, quite the opposite. Besides, I like to think of owls as choice company which, as is the way with all things impossible, rocks way harder than I do.    

Most of the time, the thematic conflict here is enough to compact all the absurdities of the political and the personal, as action and re-action both are being attributed to Dany to lay out a dawdling path for the major events at work. In such a context, even her route around Slaver's Bay is clearly, if concisely, mapped out as she travels from Illyrio's vast Pentoshi mansion out to the plains of the Dothraki sea at the heart of the Essossi continent, and eastward by the sea. As the book opens, it becomes evident that her function is to serve as a stepping stone for her brother's vengeance, who is later revealed to be a pawn in an ongoing game of political ambition and secrets, and (let's face it) probably severely traumatized due to circumstances as a young fugitive on the run. In time, the covey of strands merge to form one long, drawn-out account. Although new cracks appear in the wall as Dany stumbles and falls in her pursuit of an autonomous existence, which the text insists is all the present concern, she nevertheless looks poised to rise above her predicament as a child bride and dweller in foreign lands, and much like the narrative imperatives of suspense and intensity dictate, lead her people to greener pastures to perform the sort of zippy junk the priests foretell.

I interpret Dany's single most prolific desire as this i n t e n s e  yearning for a place to call home, which is not so much a conversion as a double-natured energy at the edge of her inner vision, and thus difficult to quantify. Initially, Dany is projected to vary her brother's concentration circa-Game on the massive landmass across the Narrow Sea, theirs by right, notwithstanding that a certain idle desire of their former abode (“a house with a red door” outside Braavos) does still remain with her, tinting her expectations about Westeros. Now I've only ever heard the term “identity” used about this series of books, but my understanding of it is that it compresses all the debates within itself, rather than set them in awkward juxtaposition. I feel like the whole of A Song of Ice and Fire is predicated off of a descriptive relationship between belief and prejudice, intended and unintended consequences, the semiotics of power and intent, interacting motivations and an expunging of the self, which, at times, might threaten individual subjectivity and its foray into the surrounding hinterland of public conviction with a kind of falseness.

In A Song of Ice and Fire, the difficulty of matching one's core self-definition and aspirations is highlighted by the contrasting responses of the world. The question of how to truly know another hangs over GRRM's characters as they attempt to recommend themselves to their social and cultural milieu, and with respect to Dany, who seems to be motivated by some sort of reduction of suffering for the most people possible, it is none the less striking. Rather than allowing her experiences to enfranchise her from any duty toward her immediate circle, the personal happiness secured by Dany is presented as not just a matter of carving out a niche for herself, but of drawing in the communality of her charges, on the alert for future trouble, and on an unprecedented scale. As she sets out without a settled home, her brief stint in Yunkai, Astapor and Meereen becomes the acme of transient living. In the midst of backchanneling to a rigorously-ordered hierarchy, smashing the entire economic structure of Slaver's Bay in one fell swoop, and from no model but the vision of her meditations, runs an unstaunchable river of need, so that Daenerys must long either to return to the dwelling-place of her brother's manic summoning, or to substitute the distance in between with her own philosophy in life. Her oft-repeated mantra of 'I am the blood of the dragon' and  'If I look back, I am lost' is almost a prayer with Dany, not ominous in hindsight, yet furtively reminding us that security is beyond certain. In any case, it is some combination of her identity as a dragon and last surviving daughter of House Targaryen that steels her resolve, and ultimately saves Daenerys from beyond the pale of actual matrimony when Viserys (or rather, Illyrio) and Drogo come to an arrangement between them.

Two kinship plots contrast and tangle from this point onwards: her relationship to motherhood, and that of Daenerys as a dragon. In the beginning, Daenerys is unwilling to expose herself to the visitations of dragons – a direct parallel to Bran's encounter with the three-eyed crow and his uninhibited arsenal of wolf dreams – as they regularly conflate with thought-trains of Viserys, and all that may be bestial or ungovernable in human behaviour. With the passing of Viserys, Dany literally becomes the dragon, and in giving life to a triple-clutch of fossilized dragon eggs, she becomes a mother, too. Thus begins Dany's quest to re-make herself as her own patchwork mishmash of ideals and circumspect values, and because the only realistic source from which to take her opinions is, and always has been, Viserys, she must expend thrice the effort necessary to incorporate the originals available into a larger schema, one that she can be reasonably proud of.

During her time in Meereen, Daenerys is placed in a peculiarly tender relation to her Targaryen heritage and its vocabulary as the only other inhabitant of her commonwealth, which is a solitary island more than a permanent country seat. Soon she feels compelled to put away her dragons, keeping them under lock and key, and that decision, in turn, proves a threat to her usual blithe equanimity and conception of selfhood. At a stroke, the dragon motif and its invocation within Dany's inner orbit achieve yet greater intensity in this double deuce of names as talismans, as diminutive item forms full of meaning that is impartial and genuine and unique to the individual. ('Remember who you are', per Quaithe's words.) Daenerys later formulates this in an almost therapeutic burst of feeling imbued with a past beneath consciousness, now finally 'in play', and if there is a failure of tact in her haste to relieve herself of the traditional tokar before she takes off on Drogon, she is all the better for it.

By the end of Dance, Daenerys is shown at her most self-conscious: smarting under an increasing series of moral concessions, buried beneath the rehearsal of fixed impressions, a meagre ghost of all that has gone before in the confines of her formal position. All she can do to recover any sense of equilibrium is to gaze with clear eyes on past mistakes and admit, at last, to the full scope of her decisions against the political landscape of Meereen, much as her actions are curtailed, and she is relegated to interpreter between all the various household commonwealths, and an observer in each. In Daznak's Pit, her psychic drama is addressed when she finally breaks through the barriers raised by her intelligence of her own mixed motives, and in this switch from a state of stasis to acceptance, she is released from last lingering pretensions and reunited with one of her children. For one, Dany is left to contend with the discovery that she has been seeing in glimpses, or through distorted lenses, for she must indeed 'go back to go forward', and it is a monumental experience that frightens her, because she cannot pinpoint the apparition of Drogon and what it portends. The reader can share in the sumptuous relief, communicated for the most part through an imitation of intimacy as Dany acts to reconnect with Drogon, swooping in to bodily snatch her from her path of ruling malaise, and to rediscover a part of her as well.

So, it is definitely some sense of character emerging from the gloomiest surroundings that resonates with me, not the sort of button-pushing, id-pandering thrill of being given a magical boon of recognition and going around dispensing justice as if all it takes is a pinch of salt (and glittery effervescent Faerie Dust), but the author's express engagement with such an ambivalent setting, politically and ethically, and hence perhaps his reluctance to let the character off the hook easily enough, or without the compensatory gravitas of charting Dany's journey after she acquires her dragons, and its implications for the text. Like, Dany is 14 when she performs what has been, on numerous occasions, described as a miracle. Even if we assume that she has the chutzpah to get by well enough and survive by the heft of her own clever bootstraps, the fact that her retinue now consists of quite a few people and a triptych of hatchlings cannot be ignored. Obviously humanity doesn't work like that, but let's put this argument aside for the sake of the books being pure, unbridled fantasy. Dany is forced, early in Clash, to navigate the Red Waste unprepared, and riven by a shortage of supplies. Are we meant to believe that a teenager who has already suffered an assassination attempt on her person, and whose grasp on politics can be defined as rudimentary at best, would not be casually roped into a situation where the more leisured would seek to placate her for their benefit, if not write her off as a nuisance in light of her most recent investiture?

Daenerys is unique among GRRM's cast of compelling characters in one respect at least: her own network of connections and other affiliations is, unlike the rest of the action, located in Essos. She is also, iirc, the first character to accomplish so much about a fraction of the way in. If the trajectory of Dany's character arc convinces, it is because it gives the reader direct representation through Dany's inner-POV, and so largely escapes bathos before rebuking the audience with this Celtic knot of complicated interactions and endless politicking, which the author has spent way too much time building up to tear it, in a matter of pages, down. It is interesting to me that the exploration of the different shades of right and wrong, withdrawal and passion, has clear advantages to a fabulist in search of the perfect sequence to take Daenerys out of Essos and drop her in the middle of Westeros, when the alternative is easier to accommodate and far, far more appealing. I'm not the biggest GRRM fan, and if we're talking aspects of the main plot, there's a lot to pick apart, but I have rambled since whenever, and I need to get this into shape. I'm just saying that I consider this Meereenese thing one of his best/worst experiments with fictional spaces, and though mileage on how successful this has been may well vary, following Dany as she proceeds to shed her brittle exoskeleton and cross an invisible boundary upwards to become her own person is a seminal experience, 10/10 would rec, especially since the result of this ecdysis is a character refusing to be daunted into submission, refreshingly uncowed by the immensity of her cutting designs, and much as this word has grown obsolete, c o m p l i c a t e d. Then again, what isn't?

(Brevity and I have now gone our seperate ways. Imagine if I tackled fandom religiously and with gusto. This could be a joke for the ages.)

• A character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Stannis – so. here. First off, I love Stannis. Took me a while to warm up to him, but it was bound to happen.

I figure I'm just going to be earnest here as I admit to a queer sort of fascination with Stannis Baratheon, whom I found so irritably dour in Clash, and then in over his head, and then kind of arrogant, and then FINALLY about when he went north and everything that happened there and blah blah blah, I grew to love with a passion. Plus, I really ship him with both Jon AND Davos now, but what even is a Stannis without his Onion Knight, you might ask. Besides, his interactions with Jon throughout Dance are like, the highlight of the book for me, so very clever and typical of both characters.

Stannis is devisive internally; my headspace splits and goes in all sorts of different directions and it’s consequently really difficult to gather my feelings into a cohesive opinion. I think he’s a fascinating character, partially because he does inspire such confusion. Stannis is charmless, inflexible, stubborn, confoundedly upright, and has persistence past the point of common sense. He has no charisma, and his insistence on kingship seems to me to stem not so much from ambition as from some misguided attempt to reinstate himself as the rightful ruler of Westeros, born of duty and a sense of obligation. This is an unpopular opinion to fess up to, but I'm not one to hold any degree of coldness or callous behaviour against Stannis, at least not to the exclusion of any real depth of feeling. However, it's the sort of feeling that motivates those who have known immeasurable grief and despair, who have been loved and forgotten, and above all, denied everything they've ever deserved that defines Stannis more than anything else.    

Even as a person rather than a name/title, Stannis is flawed, if not outright tragic. He's a character full of diametric contradictions, which is why I could talk about Stannis till the cows come home and still never quite get to the core of who he is. Part of this, I suspect, is because GRRM is not all that inclined to allow his readers to peer into Stannis's head, and so Stannis becomes accessible to us solely through the POV of his advisors on one end, and Jon on the other. It is my contention that Stannis tries to do good, even as he fails. The king/man duality with Stannis does not negate the tensions between the contradictions, but even so it will probably be his undoing.

While we're at it, I will also say that I come to Catelyn Stark from a slightly different angle (albeit with similar results.) Catelyn is probably my favourite character in the entire AsoIaF!verse, bar none, as well as someone I identify with on a deep, personal level. Just to paint you a little visual, when expressing love for Catelyn among a group of my rl friends, I was told that the character isn't necessarily the most fun to read, that they were systematically put off by how dreary and maudlin she can get, and I understand that. For one thing, Cat's chapters are like getting dragged through the grief of a woman who is living out the destruction of her house's words (“family duty honour.”) GRRM's portrayal of Catelyn is that of a typically feminine character who embodies a classical role of historic femininity (motherhood), and who refuses to be rendered as a passive agent. I can only think of one or two other characters with ties to motherhood like those assured in the figure of Catelyn Stark – the entire Dany narrative provides a rich seam in that regard. But while Catelyn refuses to be objectified or designated to a footnote, even written on a course to become a voice for conciliation, it is in death that the pressures threatening to suffocate her in life are relinquished. The point here is not a channeling of un!Cat's involvement in an ongoing crisis through the accents of renewed importance, but rather becoming in death the incarnation of impulses her living counterpart would struggle against. As such Cat's tragic narrative progression, in which she is sadly unmade in terms of her principles and begins to unravel mentally as a result, is thematically beautiful and so very poignant.  

(Btw, I realise that I'm biased in favour of both Cat and Stannis, if for no other reason than show-wise, Michelle Fairley and Stephen Dillane are two of my absolute favourite actors, so this a lot like tying up all that's ever mattered to me in a nice little bow and everything.)

• A character that everyone else loves that I don’t: [/confession time] i was about to say Jon Snow, which FRANKLY is a bit of a ridiculous statement considering how much I stan the guy. Ugh, Jon, my apologies; I am a mess. ALSO! because I went into some detail with Dany, I figure I might just have to whip out my devious card of deviousness and dodge the question a teeny bit by talking about what attracts me to Jon as a character. Saying that I'm only tangentially interested in Jon's arc is nothing short of an understatement; mostly, there's enough fandom people who talk about Jon more and better than I ever could, sorry!

Since I have very little defence against this double-whammy of understanding of character and Jon's motivations, to my notions, the range of feelings provoked by his inner-POV has imo more to do with Jon learning that he's not the centre of the universe – not because Jon himself seems to think that, but because it's what makes him more than a troperiffic prophesied saviour of mankind within the heroic paradigm that he inhabits. Of course, that may change, what with Aemon's stanza of “kill the boy and let the man be born”, and the mystery (?) of his parentage coming out to test, as I suspect, Jon's deep-seated convictions. I strongly believe that Jon is the key to the restoration of balance/fighting off the White Walkers thing (along with Tyrion and Dany) and the only secret Targ that is needed. In simpler terminology, everything from Jon's tentative introduction to his arrival at Castle Black to the ranging beyond the Wall to his coming-of-age narrative with Ygritte and the wildlings leading up to his et tu-Brute moment at the end of Dance has been expertly crafted so far, and explored with the lightest touch. Good stuff.

• A character I love that everyone else hates: Aeron Greyjoy – the “Damphair” is on the little support ship I tug along beside me dubbed the U.S.S Kraken Force Extaordinaire. I love Asha, and I love Theon. I just really love the Greyjoys, and Aeron's Kingsmoot chapters in Feast are fascinating to me.

• A character that I used to love but don’t any longer: not being coy here at all, but honestly, I can't think of any. At the most, I guess I wasn't all too keen to take up Bran and Arya's stories again in Dance, which BUGS, because bb Starklings!! But no, that's about it.

• A character I would kiss: natsumi82 speaks to my soul; Jaime and Theon are like obvious choices here.

• A character I would slap: um, Gregor. Worst plan ever, I know. /whelp

• A character I’d want to be like: Brienne! Who is not just a hell of a fighter (!!!) but also has the ability to remain kind in a world that seems bent on pitting her ideals against the harsh realities of her setting. Brienne is my lodestar, and my second favourite character within ASoIaF, one that I've written about and will continue to write about. For my part, I'm still hanging on the edge of my seat, hoping against hope that GRRM delves deeper into her relationship with Jaime, and in that way we as readers will be able to examine how their characters have changed, and the comparison of that will be sizzling.

• A character that makes me laugh: all three Lannister siblings are hilarious to me!

• A character that I miss: Ned (also, if you didn't know how I felt about this character, now you do.)

• A pairing that I love: Jaime/Brienne (see above), Theon/Robb. Further yet down the ladder are SanSan, and Ned/Cat.

• A pairing that I don’t like: While I'm only really at the omnishipper point for fandom as a whole, at this point I have het ships, slash ships, crack ships, OT3 ships, poly ships, doomed ships (you don't want to know), and just about anything else you could name, I can’t think of any off the top of my head that I’m just immediately like GET IT AWAY FROM ME AND KILL IT WITH FIRE. With that in mind, I might have to make an exception for Petyr x Sansa.

Here are some people I tag: @irhinoceri @drafee @valorfaerie @blackbetha @gwendoline @earningbournvilles @bibliophilic-cat

[its-a-mysteryyy]

“McCree Ruins Everything” An exercise in ideally not having an overpowered character

- Pretty heavily inspired by The Answer. Detail this in an author’s note, maybe kinda Vague to avoid Spoilers.

- The reader is basically a blind seer, yes they make jokes about it. They lost their sight in an accident when they were little and gained Sight. Sometimes ill-defined visions, but direct. They become clearer the closer they are to happening. More like Sapphire’s visions more than Garnet’s, if I want to go with a clear analogy. Can’t see the bends in the river, sees more a point a to point b sort of thing. IDK somewhere in between leaning toward sapphire I guess?

                               - To specify, they can’t see ALL possibilities, but they can see some, can’t see the end point of all of them, kind of have a highlighted “alpha” timeline they’re always aware of to a certain degree. Can’t see into the entire future, but far enough that it’s like, woah. They can also see “fail states”, things that can happen if certain things don’t go through, but they almost always go through. It’s semi sporadic.

- They also aren’t constantly bombarded with future visions unless it’s like, “mission critical” like something fate wants them to know NOW. They usually enter a semi-meditative state that lets them see a bit forward, specific things if they’re looking for them, alternate scenarios if they look long enough. They can see mostly events without details. Can tell you if it’ll rain but won’t be able to tell you winning lottery numbers – can tell you the person who wins the lottery probably tho.

- They have a vision in their mid-youth about helping overwatch that became more distinct as it went on, and their directive became more clear. They approach Winston with an offer.(late-teens, early 20’s? about helping overwatch. Hell, when they were a kid they probably had fuzzy visions about overwatch. They’re probably vaguely mccree/hanzo age, lost their sight p young but remembers what things are, but only vaguely).

                               - When the visions become ‘fully clear’ they actually can see them, people, places, all sorts of stuff, like actually looking at it, but only glimpses, specific moments.

               - “in 3 months time, your base will be attacked by Talon. No amount of prevention will stop this from happening and they will successfully infiltrate, followed by their two big name agents, Reaper and the Widowmaker. (They detail the number of agents and when. Where the attacks will happen. Who gets injured, but nobody dies [EXCEPT FOR THHEM BUT THEY DON’T SAY THIS. They may vaguely mention this idk.]) McCree will incapacitate the widowmaker, and she will be apprehended. As forces thin out, it will draw out the Reaper, who without Widowmaker, is easily subdued. Reaper will defect willingly to Overwatch and Talon will be brought down from within. You will succeed.”

- They stay with Overwatch to ensure their vision comes to fruition, this is the vision they’ve been waiting for their whole life and they want to follow through with it.

- It’s vaguely slice of life from here, I’m trying to keep it a Longform One-shot but ehhh. I doubt I’d be able to stretch it out anyway so yeah :V just a warning for future me, I guess :V

 - McCree falls in love like a moron, despite them trying to push him away to preserve his feelings. The reader is helpless the cowboy charm is Too Fucking Powerful.

               - But on the real, they are p close with most of them. It makes it all the more harrowing the closer they get to the day of their death. They assure overwatch that they really don’t have to prepare, everything will be Alright, but just, be aware that it’s definitely going to happen.

               - McCree schmoozes up toward the end of the three months, finally makes a formal motion toward them, “candlelit dinner, stroll on the beach, the full nine yards” and they smile kind of softly, say that’s nice, but, no, I can’t. McCree gets a little disheartened, then upset, realizing they’re talking about more fate stuff “You don’t have to hide behind your prophetic bullshit, if you don’t feel that way about me just fucking say so” and he’s upset and they can’t say anything in their defense without opening up the risk of anyone stopping them from dying so he storms off and they regret everything for just a moment, but know that overwatch’s success is worth it in the end.

                               - “You laid in bed, tried desperately to find an ending in which he’d be better off without you. You tried not to become disheartened when you’d yet to locate one as you drifted off, the thought of his hurt face following you into your dreams.”

- Everything plays out as prophesized, Talon attacks just when they said they would, widowmaker turns up on the scene midway through the fight, two or three people are injured non-fatally. Widowmaker lines up her shot with them and they’re like, yes, this is the moment, they’ll turn the tide and Overwatch will make the world a better place. They close their eyes, knowing that nothing was in vain, and they’d done their part.

               - And then McCree’s ass shows up and either blocks the shot or pushes them out of the way. (THEY MAY STILL BE NON-CRITICALLY INJURED THO. LIKE ARM OR SOMETHIN?) They’re stunned on the ground, amazed that they’re still alive and Widowmaker escapes the scene to the tune of Peacemaker’s shots. McCree’s cussing, they’re dazed on the floor still, blind and afraid, the coms light up like, shit Talon’s retreating, reaper hasn’t even shown up, what the hap is fuckening, they sit on the ground and become more and more anxious as the last of Talon flees the scene, not dismantled, but definitely thrown off.

                               - McCree calms down. “Darlin’, you alrig- “ “WHAT DID YOU DO?” “Widowmaker was tryna take y’ out, I got you out of the – “ “WHAT DID YOU DO?” And they’re freaking out and adrenaline has left them a crying shaking mess and they’re pulling at their hair and face and just yelling. “I can’t see, I CAN’T SEE. WHAT DID YOU DO?”

               - They’re incredibly thrown by the fact that McCree changed the course of what they assumed was ‘fate’, they’re really REALLY fucking upset that their visions have seemingly disappeared, even after they calm down, still crying but no longer in the middle of the biggest panic attack of their lives, they can’t reach the visions, it’s gone, and they can’t see to see it’s awful and they’re thrown off.

               - Aftermath. The prophecy went sideways and nobody can say they aren’t disappointed, but they’re all glad to be alive, and even if the future didn’t come true, they fought talon off and everyone’s mostly intact. (Off the top of my head I want Genji, Lucio, Pharah to be injured. I mean I’m not even sure about the other two but def Genji b/c I’m awful. He makes “disarmed” puns.)

               - McCree is upset, the reader’s upset, but they talk things out. “I spent years knowing that I was meant to die then. I never thought beyond that. And now that I can’t… what do I do? I’ve followed the strings of fate so long I’m lost.” “Well, you make your own fate, then.” “…Then I’ll start here.” AND INSERT A REALLY CHEESY KISS. It’s great.

- Pretty much winds down to life resuming as normal. The visions kind of never fully come back, but they get snippets of ‘vibes’ no more direct events to dictate their life, just knowing the future is brighter and happier than they could have envisioned.

               - Shmoopy ending of literally being in McCree’s arms, like laying in bed or some shit.