The Raven King, Chapter 6 – The Return Of Sassmaster McSavage
In which the Foxes and the Ravens meet, no one has any kind of chill, everyone has eaten a healthy dose of Extra and Dramatic for breakfast, and no one can keep their mouths shut – but most importantly, in which shit gets so, so fucking real.
Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.
You guys.
You GUYS.
Remember how you keep telling me I’m not even ready?
Yeah. ABOUT THAT.
I am writing this immediately after just because I could not wait to comment on the absolute FUCKERY that went down just now.
I am writing this immediately after just because I could not wait to comment on the absolute FUCKERY that went down just now.
Fun drinking game: Take a shot every time I swear in this chapter. I have no chill left.
Let’s start at the beginning.
They pulled onto the interstate with thirteen people on board: the Fox team, the two-man staff, and Aaron’s and Nicky’s dates.
Shame. I would have paid to see Andrew and Renee going as wonderful platonic goalie BFF dates.
It quickly becomes obvious that we’re in for a wild fucking ride when Mighty And Stoic Kevin Day already starts having panic attacks while still on the bus.
It wasn’t just Riko Kevin was afraid of. In twenty minutes, he’d be facing his entire former team. (…) Neil didn’t know much about [Tetsuji Moriyama]. The one time Kevin mentioned him he’d slipped and called him “the master”. Neil didn’t need to hear anything else after that.
Oh yeah. THAT SHIT.
Seriously what the FUCK is up with that family. This is 24601 shades of fucked up.
Wymack, sensing Kevin’s panic (not that that’s fucking hard at the moment) resorts to some ah – unorthodox methods to keep his striker calm.
Wymack pulled a bottle of vodka out of the bag and put it down beside Kevin. “You have ten seconds to inhale as much of this as possible. Go.”
It was alarming how much a man could drink when he needed an emotional crutch.
Kevin doesn’t need an emotional crutch, Kevin needs an emotional wheelchair. An emotional prosthesis. Jeez. I’d be drinking, too, if I had to go meet my lifelong abusers face-to-face at a fucking banquet, having to make polite conversation with the people who broke my hand, my self-esteem and probably my will to live.
Also, I’m starting to consider Wymack not the dad of the team, but more the grumpy uncle – not huge on emotional sappiness, getting them hard liquor, constantly calling them out on their bullshit, yet loving them all fiercely. #dicksoutforwymack
Wymack (…) turned to Neil.
“You,” he said, “attempt to behave this time. Don’t pick fights with him today.”
“Yes, Coach.”
Meaning: So, so many fights will be picked today. So many. You are not even ready for all the fight-picking my short-tempered sassy ass is about to do.
With that, the banquet is off!
Thick cushioned mats covered the polished floor to keep table legs and chairs from scraping up the wood. (…) Neil had never seen so many people on an Exy court before. There was still plenty of room to walk around between the tables, but Neil hated seeing a court repurposed like this.
Oh my gooooooood shut the hell up you obsessed knob. It’s not being used right now, so we might as well use it to fit everyone for the banquet. It’s just a wooden floor, for fuck’s sake.
And now – this is where shits starts getting good.
Did I say Neil was Extra™? Did I complain about Kevin being too dramatic?
Forget all that. Meet the true masters of Extra And Dramatic™ – introducing: The Edgar Allan Ravens.
The Ravens hadn’t brought dates. They hadn’t brought any colour along, either. All twenty-two of them were dressed head-to-toe in black. The twenty men wore the same shirts and slacks, and the two women wore identical dresses. They even sat the same way, all with their right elbows on the table, all of them with their chins in their hands.
ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS.
Uniform is one thing, but sitting the same way, like ARE YOU ACTUALLY REAL. HOW IS THIS AN ACTUAL THING ACTUAL PEOPLE FUCKING DO.
Of course, some sly fucker in the organization committee had the hilarious idea to sit the two teams directly across from each other. Of fucking course.
Dan, ever the model captain, introduces herself and her team to Riko, as if he didn’t get completely annihilated on national TV by her striker just a few weeks ago.
That Fucker™, however, isn’t having it.
“I know who you are,” Riko said. “Who here doesn’t? You’re the woman who captains a Class I team. You’ve done admittedly well despite your disadvantages.”
“What disadvantages?”
“Do you really want me to start listing them?” Riko asked. “This is only a two-day event, Hennessey.”
OI SCREW YOU YA BIG FUCKNOODLE. I will not have you insult my treasured lionheart daughter like that.
Also, I thought her name was Wilds? The fuck is a Hennessey.
(Side note: I am sorry you guys, this recap is going to be ridiculously long. Every single line here is gold. Blame Nora for writing the sassiest, shadiest, most shocking and just in general best chapter of this series so far.)
It’s time for a new character introduction, one I’ve heard many of you ramble on about on the interwebs – that French dude.
Neil didn’t recognize the man, but he didn’t need to ask. The black number three tattooed on his left cheekbone meant he could be no one but Jean Moreau.
Lovely. Another one of those dumb ass face tattoo fuckers. I’m filing you as French and pretentious, my dude.
“You look familiar,” Jean said in heavily accented English.
“If you watched Kathy’s show you saw me there,” Neil said.
“Ah, you are right. That must be it. What was your name again? Alex? Stefan? Chris?”
In eight years on the run Neil had been through sixteen countries and twenty-two names. Hearing one name from Jean wouldn’t mean anything. Hearing three wasn’t a coincidence.
Alright, French and pretentious AND TERRIFYING. COOL.
What the hell??? How??
“Blame my mother,” Neil said. “She named me.”
“How is she doing, by the way?” Riko asked.
That Fucker™ knows. He knows.
This was bound to come around at some point. Kevin being too traumatized to recognize Neil was nothing short of amazing, but I guess we can’t always be that lucky.
It was nice knowing you, Neil, because your ass is fucking dead.
Neil might have answered, but Dan beat him to it with an annoyed “Don’t antagonize my team, Riko. This isn’t the place for it.”
“I was being polite,” Riko said. “You haven’t seen me antagonistic yet.”
And I don’t think I fucking want to, hombre.
Excuse me for a second while I nerd out over the most unexpected reference of this entire series:
Neither of them [Kevin and Jean] had anything else to say to each other, but they stared each other down unblinking. Andrew lost interest before long and leaned forward.
“Jean,” he said. “Hey, Jean. Jean Valjean. Hey. Hey. Hello.”
……………………………. did you just.
JEAN VALJEAN. AS IN, BREAD DAD. AS IN, THE PROTAGONIST OF ONE OF MY FAVOURITE MUSICALS/FILMS/FANDOMS OF ALL TIME. Like, I’ve done Les Mis cosplay. Several times. That’s how dedicated I am.
I AM #SHOOK.
However, I am decidedly not liking Jean Valjean – or either of That Fucker™’s posse, actually. They first take a few moments to talk shit about Andrew (“publicity stunt”, can you fuck the fuck off) and then they come for my firstborn daughter Renee.
The woman now on Riko’s right gave a loud snort. “If someone like that replaced you in goal, you must be downright terrible. I can’t wait to watch one of your matches. I think it will be entertaining. We would make a drinking game of it but we don’t want to die of alcohol poisoning.”
“Yeah, that’s be a shame,” Dan said with heavy sarcasm.
DAN <33333
My darling angel, however, doesn’t take the bait.
“Do we have to start off so poorly?”
“Why not? You’re poor at everything else you do,” the woman said. “Is it honestly fun to be so terrible?”
“I imagine we have more fun than you do, yes,” Renee said.
Correction: My darling angel does take the bait – and brings the fucking shade.
“Fun is for children,” Jean said, looking away from Andrew.
If he’d been going to say anything else, he forgot it when he got a good look at Renee.
First of all – “fun is for children”, can you fucking chill, Monsieur Pretentieux Superlatif.
Second of all – what’s that “suddenly stopping talking when he sees Renee” thing about?? Do they have shared history as well? Is he just blinded by her angelic beauty and wants to bone her?
I am absolutely NOT LIKING the latter possibility. Protect my daughter.
The Ravens continue being The Absolute Worst™, talking about how Kevin “belongs” to them (can u fuckin not) and should come to his senses and return to them (as fucking if).
“You should reconsider our offer before we rescind it for good, Kevin. Face the facts. You pet is and always be dead weight. It’s time to –“
“What?” Andrew turned a wide-eyed look on Kevin. “You have a pet and never told us? Where do you keep it, Kevin?”
ANDREW LET ME LOVE YOU. I had to laugh so hard at that, oh my god. That’s the only proper way to respond to something like that, tbh.
That Fucker™, however, has found a new target to harass – ya boi Neil, who has kept admirably quiet so far and has probably bitten off his own tongue at this point trying to avoid bursting out in sass rants.
That is, until That Fucker™ comes for his mom.
“What a coward,” Riko said with exaggerated disappointment. “Just like his mother.”
Cue the moment I stopped breathing.
“You know, I get it,” Neil said. “Being raised as a superstar must be really, really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you’re worth a damn off the court – yeah, sounds rough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues all the time.”
HOLY FUCKING –
“I know it’s not entirely your fault that you are mentally unbalanced and infected with these delusions of grandeur, and I know you are physically incapable of holding a decent conversation with anyone like every other normal human being can, but I don’t think any of us should have to put up with this much of your bullshit. Pity only gets you so many concessions, and you used yours up about six insults ago. So please, just shut the fuck up and leave us alone.”
I had to take a moment. I had to put the book down and fucking scream for a moment.
SASSMASTER MCSAVAGE STRIKES AGAIN, Y’ALL.
I AM YELLING AND CLAPPING MY HANDS LIKE AN EXCITED SEAL FFS NEIL I L O V E Y O U.
Neil leaned forward and look down at the table at Dan, who sat with her face buried in her hands.
“Dan, I said please. I tried to be nice.”
Oh my GOD. That is just the cherry on top of the sundae of EPICNESS that just went down.
I SAID PLEASE.
I cannot handle this. I cannot. Holy shit.
Jean turned on Kevin and spoke in quick, furious French. “What the hell is this?”
“His antagonism is a personality flaw we’ve learned to live with,” Kevin said.
Pfftftftftftt. Kevin is entirely done with this situation and I love it.
However, fun times are immediately the fuck over, as Jean Valjean hints at someone having “bought” Neil and assumes Kevin had recruited him because of that.
And just as I was beginning to wonder hat hell he is talking about – he drops this.
“Riko will have a few moments of your time later,” Jean said. “I suggest you speak with him if you do not want everyone to know you are the Butcher’s son.”
WHAT.
WHAT.
OH SHIT T H E Y K N O W I FUCKING SAID IT OH SHIT WHAT.
Kevin, who has skillfully repressed his memories of Neil up until this point, is about as shocked by this development as I am and has to go have some emergency vodka, like, asap.
Neil, on the other hand, shows some wonderful, wonderful signs of character development.
“Neil, if you can’t be here say so,” Wymack said. “Abby can take you elsewhere until it’s time to leave. Get out of here and get some fresh air.”
It was the perfect opening, but Neil couldn’t take it. If he did, he really would go, and he wouldn’t come back. Running wasn’t easy, but it was easier than trusting Andrew. But Neil remembered the weight of a key in his palm, its metal soaked through with another person’s body heat. He remembered Andrew’s promise to see this year through with him.
“No,” Neil said, finally finding his voice. “I knew this was going to happen. I just wasn’t ready for it. I’m fine.”
Ma BOY <3 Neil slowly learning to trust people and deal with his problems is my No 1 kink.
Actually, No 2 kink. No 1 would be Neil absolutely shade-wrecking people.
They leave their mess of a seating arrangement and find some new spots elsewhere, and later go mingling with the other teams. This goes surprisingly well, mostly due to the fact that it gives Neil and Kevin an excuse to talk about Exy and Exy alone – which is, as we all know, the only fucking thing those two morons can talk about.
However, those admirable avoiding tactics only go well for so long.
It took him a few seconds to realize the Ravens were coming. The entire team was crossing the court toward Kevin, walking in V formation like a flock of birds going south.
Are you serious. What level of dramatic holy SHIT.
Did they, like, form this like a dance formation before walking over? Riko instructing everyone where to stand, ‘no, you over there, leave equal amounts of space, come on guys, just form a diagonal line, we need to get going, we need to look intimidating, gUYS’
Or do they do this so often that is has become second nature by now and it’s just how they go everywhere?
I genuinely don’t know which option I find funnier.
But wait – it gets better.
Riko stopped further away than Neil thought he would, but Neil understood a moment later. The rest of the Ravens kept going, flipping their V until they’d trapped the three Foxes between them.
I am crying so much how is this a thing you do, literally what level of Extra and Dramatic™ are you ON, I cannot deal with this.
Please – next time I comment on how extra the Foxes are being, remind me of The V Incident.
Now, just as I was thinking ‘oh shit, this is going to go south again so quickly’… Foxes to the rescue!
Renee appeared out of nowhere at Kevin’s other side. She looped one arm through Kevin’s and held her free hand out to Jean. “Jean, wasn’t it? My name is Renee Walker. We didn’t really get a chance to talk earlier.”
Confusion eased Jean’s stoic mask into something more than a little uncomfortable, be he accepted her handshake. “Jean Moreau.”
For real, I’m so interested in what the fuck is going on with these two. My money is on shared history. This could be my Renee’s-backstory-hungry brain talking, but reading their passages this sounds v v likely.
Did someone say backstory??
[Matt] held out his hand but didn’t look surprised when no one took it. “Guess the pleasure’s all mine.”
“We’re sure it is,” the Raven striker said, “seeing how you’re dating a prostitute.”
“Stripper,” Dan corrected as she showed up and wound an arm around Matt’s waist. (…) “Hopefully you’re smart enough to distinguish between the two professions. If you’re not, I have serious concerns about your academic standings.”
FUCK, YEAH.
DAN, MY GIRL MY DUDE MY DAUGHTER.
She was a stripper! Holy shit! And she’s not ashamed of it, but admits it freely and is even proud of it! Holy! Shit!
Positive depictions of sex workers in pop culture is so, so rare, and I’m so happy we get some here. I did not expect this and I’m v pleasantly surprised right now.
“Hennessey, right?” one of the strikers said. “Such a good name for such a fierce spirit.”
“We were a little disappointed that you didn’t sign up as part of the entertainment tonight,” one of the others said. “We were looking forward to the show.” (…)
The striker grinned at Matt over [Dan’s] shoulder, then tilted forward and sucked a deep breath against her neck.
Dan brought her stilettos between his legs inn a vicious punch.
I repeat myself: FUCK. YEAH.
Also, that’s what a Hennessey is. Noted.
Fun backstory done – That Fucker, Senior™ has arrived. Tetsuji Moriyama is about everything I don’t want near my Foxes, combined into one slimy sack of asshole. The whole “master” thing still both scares and infuriates me.
However, we don’t have to spend long enjoying his absolutely unenjoyable company as Neil is called off to have a little tête-à-tête with That Fucker, Junior™.
“Nathaniel, it has been so long.”
NATHANIEL???????
Did we just discover Neil’s true name, holy shit?????
Nathaniel is a beautiful name, though. I’ve always liked it. Shame.
Apparently, the way That Fucker™ could find Neil so quickly was by getting a glass with Neil’s fingerprints on it from Kathy Ferdinand. Well, fuck.
Riko started across the room on slow steps. “Jean says Kevin did not know who you are. After seeing Kevin’s reaction, I’m inclined to believe him. (…) But you must know who you are, so I am very, very curious to know what you think you are doing.”
Bitch, aren’t we all! Aren’t we fucking all!!
And now- we’ve reached the point where shit gets so, so painfully real.
Did I say earlier I stopped breathing when Neil was dragging Riko?
Fuck that. That was nothing compared to what followed next.
I was not remotely ready.
“You have already cost my family a sizeable fortune and eight years of trouble.”
“How?” Neil asked. “The money I took was my father’s.” (…)
“Nothing your father owned was his!” Riko snapped.
What.
Riko grabbed Neil by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. Neil’s head hit hard enough to rattle teeth.
“I refuse to believe she never told you. All this time running and you never asked why?”
What.
“You were not running from your father, Nathaniel. You were running from his master.”
WHAT.
WHAT IN THE FUCKING WHAT????
What Riko was suggesting was impossible. The Butcher was one of the biggest names on the eastern seaboard. He made Baltimore his home, but his territory extended from D.C. to outer Newark. He had a fiercely loyal syndicate and a penchant for grotesque executions. (…)
If the Moriyamas really were powerful enough to keep a man like the butcher under lock and key Neil was so far in over his head he might as well be six feet under.
That is amazingly worded, well done. Also, I’m kinda peeing my pants here.
If I’ve looked this up correctly, that’s a territory about twice the size of New York City.
Like. Imagine controlling New York City. And then that – TWICE.
And THEN imagine controlling the guy who controls all of that, and then some more.
Yeah. You dead, bro.
“Learn your place. I will never tolerate this level of disrespect from you again. Do you understand?”
Neil was already in his coffin. He might as well nail it shut. “Yeah, I understand you’re a complete asshole.”
Riko: Neil, no.
The Foxes: Neil, no.
Common sense: Neil, no.
Me: NEIL, FUCK NO.
Neil: Neil, yes.
Thankfully, Matt arrives in order to save Neil from digging his sass-induced grave even deeper, and after some nice threats about ratting his shitty ass behaviour out to the ERC, Riko finally fucks off.
“I don’t think Riko likes me very much. Should I be disappointed?”
Are you fucking serious bruh. Are you serious.
Matt looked skyward as if searching for patience.
Which is, incidentally, the No 1 reaction people have to Neil speaking more than a few polite sentences at a time.
Never talk to me or my short-tempered sassmaster idiot son ever again.
And with that trainwreck of an encounter, the Foxes take their curt leave from the banquet. Some more comments are made – Neil and Kevin will have A Talk™ tomorrow, Andrew got called Doe earlier by Jean Valjean because that was his preliminary surname when he entered the foster system (which probably means the Ravens also know more about Andrew than we should be comfortable with) – but all of that pales in comparison to the absolute FUCKERY we just witnessed.
Holy shit.
I have to go, like, breathe into a bag for five hours.
See you Wednesday.
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