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sunriseskog · 5 years

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comethru- Auston Matthews

Request: n/a this was entirely self induglent bc im sad and ive had comethru by Jermey Zucker stuck in my head for weeks

Word Count: 2,267

Warnings: cursing, angst, dudes being assholes, mentions of tr*ding auston

A/N: ive been on hiatus for a long ass time so any feedback is more than welcome!!!! also i am fully aware that i used this gift for my last post but its hot and i dont care

It had been a little over a month since Auston left. No… that’s not quite right. It had been a little over a month since Auston left Toronto. It had been just barely under a month since you had left Auston.

You weren’t entirely sure who the trade surprised more, but you did know for a fact that it had had a far greater effect on you than it had on Auston.

He had remained optimistic in the beginning. After all, Buffalo is barely a 2-hour drive on a bad day. On a good day, he could probably make it in an hour and a half. But the two of you had quickly reached the conclusion that either of you driving 4+ hours a day wasn’t practical, and it wasn’t fair to whoever drew the short end of the stick, pun intended. You knew he would never ask you to move for him, hell even moving in together had been a stretch for you, but you also knew that there was an unspoken expectation that eventually the both of you would relocate closer to the arena.

Before he had even reached the border, you had managed to convince yourself that this short distance relationship would cripple your relationship before you could even begin filling out the US immigration forms to move with him, let alone actually convince yourself to do it. So you backed off. You knew that trying to exhaust what was left of the relationship would only end up destroying you the both of you more than was necessary, so you let go. You knew it wouldn’t take him long to pick up on the fact that you were becoming distant, taking longer to respond to texts, barely calling him back and conveniently timing your responses with the specific intention of him not being able to pick up. You may have been stupid, but you sure as hell weren’t subtle. You knew that as long you were the bad guy in the scenario, it wouldn’t take him nearly as long to get over you, and as long as you remained in control of the situation, you knew that you’d come out of the tail end of things perfectly fine.

And you were. You were absolutely, positively fine. But that was all you were. You weren’t good or great or doing well, you were just… fine. You were off-kilter, sure, but you were surviving, and that was honestly all you had come to ask of yourself. You were sure that the other shoe would drop soon enough, you had ridden the high and now you were at the plateau, but the comedown seemed to always be lurking around the corner.

One too many sleepless nights in a row had come to significantly impact your sleeping schedule. It had gotten to the point where your boss had come to expect your work day to end at 5 am instead of 5 pm. It was nice, though. To see the city when it felt like no one else could. To have your whole day to yourself, even though it was technically night. Everything was much quieter, and there were moments where it felt like you might be the only person in the entire city to be awake, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You rarely interacted with anyone, you didn’t even wake up until hours after the last of your coworkers had left the building, and every errand you had to run could be completed via the self-checkout of the 24 hr supermarket a few blocks away from your apartment building. You weren’t lonely by any means, you just so happened to be alone.

Except on game nights. You were never alone on game nights. Luckily, there weren’t very many Toronto residents that enjoyed watching one of their franchise players play in a different teams jersey, but you still couldn’t help but punish yourself by watching his games whenever they were on at the sports bar you frequented. You told yourself that as long as someone else put the game on, and as long as you left with someone new before the game was over, then it wasn’t nearly as pathetic as it seemed.

An issue arose the first time Toronto played the Sabres. You hadn’t checked the schedule, you just knew that there was a game. You also knew that if you were ever alone when a game was on you would curl up with far too much ice cream and a borderline dangerous amount of rum, neither of which were ideal. Immediately upon entering the bar, you knew that it was far too crowded for there to not be a Leafs game on, it was nowhere near baseball season, and the sea of blue jerseys couldn’t be for any other team. An involuntary wince consumed your face as Auston’s name reached your ears, it seemed like every congregation of fans in the entire establishment were talking about him, and a cursory glance at the nearest screen confirmed your fears.

The bad news was that if you stayed, you would have to watch Auston play, which was bound to be painful for any Leafs fan, but this one would hurt you just a little more than all the others— the knowledge that he was just across the city weighed heavily on your shoulders as you pushed through the crowd to find an empty stool somewhere. The worse news was that there was no way in hell a single guy in here would be willing to leave before the game was over, so you’d either have to watch all of it and then fuck the feelings away, or go home and watch all of it and probably end up crying for a majority of the third period. The former seemed like a more viable option at the time.

Now, though? You wished you had just gone home. Because it turns out you were wrong, there was a dude at the bar who was willing to leave before the end, as it would turn out, he was ready to leave before the second period was halfway through. That should have been your first red flag.

In your defense, you had a lot of other shit going on, and your brain was far too preoccupied coping with the stress that the game was bringing to consider the fact that the nice guy who had been paying for your drinks might not turn out to be that nice after all.

On the cab ride back to your apartment, you found out that his name was Sam and he was a lifelong Leafs fan. The two of you bonded over having grown up around hockey without actually playing it, and you even shared a cigarette at the entrance of your building’s lobby. It wasn’t until the two of you stepped into your living room that things took a turn for the worse.

The framed and signed Matthews jersey on the mantle had been more of a joke than anything else, all of your friends thought it was funny while the two of you were together, and you hadn’t had anyone over since the breakup, so you hadn’t found a reason to convince yourself to take it down. The look of disgust on Sam’s face as soon as he laid eyes on it would have been a fairly convincing reason if you actually gave a shit what he thought about you.

“That’s borderline sacrilege,” he commented, gesturing towards the display. You shot him an incredulous look, waiting for him to give any indication that he was making a joke.

“What?” You questioned, not really confused, just wanting to clarify if he was saying. What you thought he was saying.

“You can’t seriously call yourself a leafs fan and still support that guy! He’s a traitor,” He asserted. His over passionate gesturing indicated that he was genuinely this invested in the topic, which should have been your second red flag.

“I mean c’mon, (Y/N),” He continued. “You’re not stupid, are you?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at how pretentious and condescending he was being, without seeming to realize that he was acting like an absolute prick.

“I can assure you, Samuel,” You drawled sarcastically. “I am anything but stupid, but you have got to be absolutely moronic if you genuinely believe that I’m going to let you fuck me after speaking to me like I'm a goddamn child. Your kinks are your business but that's not really my style,” you sneered as you moved towards the doorway in order to invite him to throw himself out so you didn’t have to bother touching him any more than you already had.

“Now why don’t you get the fuck out of my house, dick head,” You spoke as your lip curled and your brow quirked, gesturing through the doorway to drive the point through his thick skull.

“Gladly,” He scoffed, slamming his shoulder into yours as he stepped past you. “Not like I’d want to fuck a whore like you anyways!” He shouted over his should as he started towards the stairs.

“Open your mouth that wide again and I’m gonna have to ask you to chortle my cock, Samuel” You responded, giving a middle finger to his back for your own satisfaction. You had never been one to censor your insults, and over the years they had become more and more lewd. This, of course, had never really presented itself as a problem until you caught the eye of your neighbor as you turned to storm back inside of your apartment. You couldn’t help but wince apologetically at the old woman, giving her a repentant head nod as you shuffled back inside.

You let your back hit the inside of the door, sliding roughly down until your tailbone hit the hardwood floor beneath your feet. Of course, the first substantial interaction you had in over a month would turn out to be a spectacular disaster. And of course, it was because of Auston. Realistically, you knew it wasn’t his fault, you just really really needed someone else to blame right now. You carded your fingers through your scalp roughly, and let out an elongated groan in the hopes that it would satisfy the overwhelming urge that you had had to scream at the top of your lungs for the past month or so.

As you stared at your own intertwined fingers in an attempt to calm yourself down, you couldn’t help but notice that your fingers were shaking. This wasn’t a recent development by any means, but this was the first time that you had noticed it being this aggressive. It usually only happened when you had coffee, which was why you had abstained from it for a majority of your life. As you looked back on what your routine had become, you realized that through all the late nights and later mornings, you had been popping caffeine pills and ordering espressos far more than the ‘one-time thing’ you told yourself it was. The realization that your life had done a complete 180 in the span of 5 weeks began to weigh on you, and it seemed like your mind was consumed entirely by flurries of memories of bad habits you had fallen back into and the lifeless moments you had spent floundering, convincing yourself that you were fine on your own, despite the fact that that was anything but the truth.

It didn’t take very long to find his contact picture in your recent messages. You hadn’t had much of a reason to talk to that many people lately. It took longer to open up the message thread, trying to prepare yourself to view the unbearably awkward finality of your most recent messages to each other. The preview underneath his name only served as a painful reminder that the last time he had texted you was to say that he loved you. And you hadn’t said it back.

You weren’t sure if he was going to respond, hell you went sure he was even going to read it. For all you knew it was entirely within the realm of possibility that he had blocked you a while ago. You knew exactly what to say, surprisingly, that wasn’t the hard part. Of the few letters that you typed, the closer you got to reaching out to him again seemed to calm you down more and more. By the time you tacked on the question mark at the end, your fingers had stopped trembling for there first time in what you could assume had been at least a couple of weeks. You let your phone drop to the floor as soon as you hit send, either he would be here within the hour or his response wouldn’t be worth reading. Those were the only options on the table. Either he was going to come and the two of you were going to get to be okay for a little while, or it truly was the end. If that was the case then you really didn’t want to see what he had to say. You heard your phone vibrate from where it laid just a couple feet away, and as much as the desire consumed you, you couldn’t bring yourself to move to see what it said. So you sat there, and waited to see if you would be able to hear those oh so familiar footsteps ascending your staircase again, responding to your oh so familiar request.

‘come thru?’

#i am literally begging you to tell me what you think #auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #Toronto Maple Leafs #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #imagines #imagine

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beyondthedreamline · 5 years

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You reblogged a post from my side blog about Thor! It made me happy because I’ve been following you for 2 years and I really respect your opinions. I was starting to doubt my righteous anger because I saw people say that those who didn’t like EG!Thor were fake fatphobic Ragnarok!Thor fans, no matter their reasons. I am glad to see we share the feeling of disappointment, even though I’m satisfied with Thor’s final development as a big bearded warrior and looking forward to the rest of his story.

Thankyou for that! I appreciated your post very much because itarticulated a couple of points that had bothered me a lot. ApparentlyI still have feelings on this subject, so be warned, you’re in fora bit of an essay now.

Firstoff, I care a lot about Thor as a character. I love Norse mythology,I love Douglas Adams’ The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, Ilove nearly every iteration of Thor as a character that I have everencountered and I love him as a superhero. I enjoyed all of thestandalone Thor movies very much. I have more mixed feelings aboutthe Avengers ensemble movies, but there was no member of the team Iactively did not like and I kept up with most of their solo moviestoo, because I enjoy superhero films as a genre and because theMarvel universe is a very rich playing ground for a whole range ofstories.

Therewas a lot of emotional investment in these last two films –Infinity War and Endgame are the conclusion to years ofworld-building and character development, weaving in dozens ofbackstories and in jokes, all the hellos and goodbyes and moments ofcatharsis that we have been waiting on for years. That is a massive askof any storyteller and there were always going to be disappointments,because with the best will in the world there is no chance ofpleasing every viewer. And this is fandom; perfection is unachievable and disagreement isinevitable. The best we can do is handle disagreements with grace and respect one another’s perspectives.

All.That. Said.

Forme, Infinity War andEndgame failed pretty much everycharacter, one way or another. Other people have written eloquent posts on theway these storylines failed the female characters of the franchise,whose motivations are mostly subsumed by the wants and needs of themen around them. Gamora ismurdered by the man who abducted and abused her, but her death isframed as hissacrifice, a way to advance hisjourney. ClintBarton becomes a grief-driven vigilante serial killer in otherpeople’s countries, but he gets absolution and Natasha ‘red in myledger’ Romanoff dies the martyr’s death in his place. PeggyCarter, furious brave Peggy Carter, becomes a literal trophywife in a goddamn Gordion knot of time-travel nonsense. SteveRogers brought war onto thesoil of a peaceful and well-defended African nation and a whole armywas sent out to fight because he couldn’t face losing a friend, butat the very end he ditches every single friend he’s got in the 21stcentury in order to experience a white picket fence of a happy endingthat erases all of his character development since TheFirst Avenger.

Andthen there’s Thor. Over the course of his three solo movies, he’slost his mother, his father, his brother (multipletimes), his girlfriend (thankgoodness she’s still alive, but it looks like she got Darcy andEric in the break-up), his planet,most of his peopleand all peace of mind.Throughout that litany of suffering, he is kind. He is patient. Hegrows as a man and as a leader, listening to the knowledge of thepeople around him in order to make decisions that benefit everyone,not just himself. He isintelligent, though often underestimated even by those closest tohim. He is capableand resourceful and a friendto anyone who needs him, the very definition of what a superheroought to be.

I’mgoing to talk about schema here for a second. A schema is a cognitiveframework. It’s a psychology term referring to how we organiseinformation based on preconceived ideas. Stories shape perception,telling us what is good and what is bad, what can happen and whatcannot. There is a very narrow pre-existing framework defining what asuperhero can look likeand it’s a shock to the system when that gets challenged. I wasshocked by seeing a fat Thor, and I’m glad of it – it means I hadto think more criticallyabout my personal preconceptions. Thiscould have been a wonderful storyline,dealing with PTSD, bodyimage and negotiating self-perception in the wake of grief andregret. It could have been apositive portrayal of a fat superhero, which outside of maybe comics– which I don’t read and can’t speak for – is absolutely anew and needed thing. It could have offered a vital reminder that howa person’s worth and strength and skill is not bound to theirphysical appearance.

Itdid not do that.

Asyou pointed out in your post, Thor was turned into a sidekick. Morethan that, he was turned into ajoke that revolved around his weight and his trauma, like he was notentitled be anything other than brawn.While Tony Stark gotan emotionally charged reunion with his long-dead father, Thor’sdialogue with Frigga soundedlike a badfirst draft, a scene rushed through with no respect for eithercharacter. He calls her ‘mom’; she tells him to ‘eat a salad’.He walks straight past Loki, the brother he wept over time and again,who died under absurd narrative contrivance about five minutes ago byAsgardian standards. Steve Rogers wasallowed the time to starewistfully at a woman he once lovedbut Thor wasrushed through his own reunion like he waswasting everyone’s time by being sad.

Thoris not permitted to contribute to the narrative in any meaningfulway; where every other lead Avenger hits a beat, however dubious orminor, that establishes theirpurpose in the story, Thoraccomplishes nothing of significance in strategy, battleor reconstruction. The powerdisplayed in Ragnarok and,in a more hit-and-miss style, in Infinity War, isabsent in Endgame. Hissignature weapon is actually handed off to another Avenger. He’snot even allowed to remain a leader of his people. And, look, I loveValkyrie as a character, but she spent centuries as a boozed-upmercenary enslaving gladiators for a glam-rock despot and it took theactual apocalypse to get her to give a damn about the fate of Asgardagain, so the idea that Thor taking a few years off to grieve in away that only harmed himself somehow makes him unfit to rule is atruly staggering double standard. Instead of continuing his growth as a king, he gets shoehorned intosomeone else’s franchise to bicker pointlessly over who gets tomake any decisions at all. I don’t know if Chris Hemsworth is upfor making more movies with Marvel, but I do not trust them to give Thor ameaningful arc any more. Where can he go from here?

Thiswas not an ensemble movie – this was the last Iron Man movie, withCaptain America taking second billing and every other characterscrambling for scraps of narrative significance. Endgamemademe resent characters I usedto like. Italienated me from a series that used to be a source of comfort.It hurts. Not as muchas it did, because I’ve emotionally checked out of the MCU for now,but apart from any other consideration, that level of storytellingfailure offends me.

Iwill acknowledge that Thor’s hair was very good in the big battlesequence. That’s one of the few positive things I have to say aboutEndgame. Great braids.

Youknow what I’d have loved? I’d have loved Wakanda to offer asylumto Asgardian refugees and for a miniseries to revolve around theircross-cultural community building. Two advanced civilisations reelingin the wake of recent upheaval but working together to build a sharedfuture, and Wakanda actually getting something out of it for onceinstead of taking a hit on behalf of the Earth. Shuri would adoreAsgardian tech and she might get to ride a flying horse, whichshe deserves; T’challa andThor would have a lot of common ground what with the disappointingfather figures and modern warrior king lifestyle. Thorwould get heavily involved in agriculture and have fun playing crashdummy for Shuri’s wilder experiments. He’d arrange a travel visaso that Jane Foster could come and play with all that beautiful shinytechnology and they wouldn’t get back together but they would befriends, like they always were underneath the first glow ofattraction. Loki would be there, because to pretend he’ll stay deadat this point is just an insult to our collective intelligence, and he wouldimmediately imprint on Queen Ramonda like an extremely defensive,resentful and heavily-armed duckling.Valkyriemight get to talk through her complicated feelings about duty andbetrayal with the Dora Milaje, particularly Okoye, who couldempathiseafter the Wakandan royal family’s disastrous power struggle.Wakanda could send outintergalactic ambassadors, headed by Nakia, to start playing a rolein the wider universe. The other Avengers could visit sometimes, ifthey behaved themselves.

Soif you’re wondering where Thor goes next for me personally, that’sthe answer.

#asks #superheroes #thor #meta #endgame negativity #that turned into a rant and actually it feels really good to have channelled all my frustration into something approaching coherence #fatphobia #sexism #racism #storytelling

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skyplayer37 · 6 years

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Worm Liveblog: End.

So thats how Worm ends.... where do I begin?

I haven't done a serious liveblog for the second half because I just wanted to take it all in, but I guess I'm at the point now where the taking it in is over and I need to vomit out some words. The fact that I'm writing this one in a word processor instead of the Tumblr text editor means I'm already subconsciously knowing that this is going to be pretty long, so buckle up.

In short? It was awesome. Everything in the story came together perfectly. At the beginning I just couldn't concieve an ending that would involve Cauldron, Scion, Endbringers, Passengers, and all the various capes in a way that was satisfying. But it was pulled off pretty damn well.

Let's take a look at some of my predictions and use those as launch points for some discussion:

- Arc 1: "Taylor remains adamant about being good even after enjoying the company of the villains. Her descent to evil will be a slow corruption, but the story will justify it by making the superheroes look bad."

She did indeed descend into madness as Khepri, with a large focus on self-justification. Taylor always thinks she's doing the right thing, which is a staple of any good villain. Except she wasn't truly a villain and did save the day in the end. Except she accept her villainy and wanted to die in the end. Except the heroes decided to keep her alive. So the morals are all over the place. In the end, Taylor gets a happy ending. With (kinda) both her parents, and a self that isn't defined by her powers. Skitter and Weaver were personas shaped by her Passenger, and for all intents and purposes were actually killed in the end. But Taylor, the little girl from the beginning of the story, gets the happy ending.

- Arc 3: "the Birdcage sounds like an interesting location. And no story ever says “No one has ever escaped that prison!” without the protag later escaping that prison (or the big bad to show how big and bad they are)."

Nope. The Birdcage was made rather pointless by Doormaker, despite the set-up that teleportation tricks wouldn't work. Even Kehpri, without much practice with Doorman's power, was able to break in and out easily. There wasn't the all out war in the Birdcage that I expected, but I expect a similar prison to be used in Ward, perhaps the same Birdcage but upgraded. At the very least it made Panacea much more tolerable and brought in Marquis, one of the coolest parahumans. But it also introduced Teacher, one of the more boring ones. Assuming Ward is a true direct sequel, I expect Teacher to go down in the first few arcs as the intro-villain before being surpassed by someone a thousand times more evil.

- Arc 5: " It’s too obvious that Grue’s little sister will get powers".. " Regent’s gonna die real soon. He’s expendable."... "Taylor is going to get a good boost to her power soon"

Correct on all accounts. Imp is one of the best characters left alive by the end. Regent had to go because Taylor just ends up with a better version of his power. It's left pretty vague when she had her second trigger event thought. I'd guess sometime during Leviathan? It was after that, when she took over her territory, that her multi-tasking powers really ramped up.

- Arc 10: "Everything happening went right over my head until they arrived at the Wards after being “caught”, which is to say I didn’t realize we were being introduced to Regent’s actual power of body possession. A power eerily similar to what I guessed Taylor’s endgame powers would be, just a bit more limited and requiring conscious movement on Regent’s part for every motion and not how Taylor just taps into natural instincts."

So let's talk about Khepri. Taylor finally thinks she has the power-limitation thing figured out, so she goes to Panacea who just... kinda gets it instantly? A bit odd that the ability for Taylor to go crazy like that was so easily reached and out of nowhere. But I guess Panacea had gotten to the point where she barely needed to second-guess messing with someone's head. So Taylor comes up with a crazy idea and 5 minutes later has powers worthy of instantly jumping to Class-S, taking control of every parahuman in existence with some quick synergy, combining Doormaker and his clairvoyent bf and ballooning in power like a good Binding of Isaac build. Thematically though, it works beautifully. She's become the Queen of her swarm, with all of humankind nothing but insects in comparison to a mighty godlike entity. Scion treated humans like we would ants, toying with them as one would burn ants with a magnifying glass. But as Taylor proved with her insects against humans, enough humans working together through a hivemind can overcome an entity thousands of times their scale. She killed the impenetrable Alexandria by commanding bugs, and now the immortal Scion by commanding humans. Wow you can really look back at the first few arcs where the teenage girl is learning about the heroes and say "yeah she fucking kills all of them eventually, weird huh?"

- Epilogue

Where does the story go now? Assuming again, that Ward is a standard sequel. Which it heavily implied by Bitch's epilogue, with trigger events now going haywire without Scion and being a very cool way to get his POV on the last few moments of his life. Teacher is doing his thing but again, I assume that wouldn't last for long into a sequel besides getting a new hero protag set-up with someone easy to fight. Dragon and Defiant had a very touching epilogue, and I'm excited that at least they might be around for a whole other 2 million word story. Unsarcastically: these characters are good enough to warrant ~44 YA novels worth of story. I'd hope that Taylor doesn't make much more than a cameo though, her story is over. But if this story grew to be so epic in scale, its hard to imagine a sequel that wouldn't involve Earth Aleph getting fucked up. Imp is set-up to get a pretty good protag role, I'd wager one of the Heartbreaker kids as the most likely to get the main POV. Someone with the birthright of a villain proving themselves to be a Hero, in contrast to Taylor being a hero trapped as a villain and succoming to the role. Although I've figured out myself that Dragon already fills the role as her foil, being coded and trapped into being a Hero against her will, with the pun of being a "Wyrm". Which might have made for a cool sequel name, albiet a very confusing one when talked about out-loud.

Is a sequel to a nearly 2 million word story needed? I'd say.... yeah. There's still plenty left unanswered. The Endbringers for instance. It's implied that Eidolon made them, outside the knowledge of anyone else, but only really implied. They go silent after Scion goes down for some reason. How much did The Simurgh know of the future? She was responsible for setting up Panacea's stay in the Birdcage (fitting name here) and of the Yang-Ban Emperor being one that was critical for Taylor to have control over after Panacea fucked up her head. So did she know about Khepri? She was, after all, responsible for setting up Echidna, the only other Human-Turned-Endbringer. And what of Scion's partner? How did Cauldron kill something like that? Granted it was the more passive of the cherubic-twins. (Aranea's talk about Cherubs was before the Interlude about the Entity right? Let's check... Aranea's was in March 2013, 26.X Interlude was in August 2013.... pretty crazy to both have the idea of invincible serpents flying through the multiverse, reproducing by tearing their scales off, with one more aggressive and one more focused on passively studying humans, granted I’m taking some liberties but you get the idea) (Chuckles the Clown raised Scion calling it now). But I guess the same odds as Vriska/Marceline being introduced the same summer with the defining traits of "grey skin, gay, and loves wearing red-colored boots".

This would be the part where I talk about how emotionally wrecked I am from this journey being over. Of investing in these characters and seeing them grow up. From clueless children to powerful pseudo-gods with the power to kill unfathomable monstrosities. Of the good times and the bad, of the nostalgia of the simple bank heist scenes, of taking a moment to remember those that didn't make it. Regent, Emma, Clockblocker, Grue, Taylor's virginity. Damn, Clockblocker dieing actually hurt me the most. Maybe I should say a few words about how Worm has changed me as a person and become one of those major pillars supporting my future that I'll someday look back on with "that specifically effected the way I Create" as Homestuck once did.

But no, I don't get to say that quite yet. Because even after 6 months. Of reading almost nightly since I started on the plane-ride home from spending a weekend across the country with my boyfriend, knowing it would be this long and still not see him again and deciding to start on this journey to take my mind off being in such an emotional ride home. Thousand of feet in the air and reading about some girl trapped in a bathroom stall having juice poured on her head... Half a year dedicated to Worm, around 5 times longer than it took me to read Homestuck. Nearly 2 million words, an estimated 22 regular novels in length, longer than the entire Percy Jackson series I was obsessed with as a teenager (probably not anymore, theres way too many of those) and now, having read that much, what can I say now?

There's still more I haven't read.

Guess this liveblog is gonna keep going into Ward

#worm #parahumans #liveblog

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andrewuttaro · 5 years

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New Look Sabres: Amerks Angle - November Edition

The Rochester Americans are for real. That feels a little silly saying because they were for real last season too and they didn’t even have this much talent. It’s worth saying because Rochester needs a winner right now. I feel like a broken record repeating the way last season ended but that exceedingly short lived playoff run seemed like a failure against the backdrop of the 91 point season that preceded it. The Amerks started out this season last month making us wonder if this campaign would be as good as that one and they turned it around. By the end of last month the Amerks sat atop the North Division and looked convincing. November has seen some fears resurface. Just like those plugged into the psyche of Sabres fans, Amerks fans similarly wait for something to go wrong. As dark as it may sound both parent and farm club fans in this organization feel like success is the intermission between disappointments in recent years; just like in Buffalo it wasn’t always this way. But I’ll save a history lesson for a history post. This Amerks team is not winning in convincing fashion. Rochester is 3-3 since November 9th when Buffalo’s win streak was beginning. Five out of Six of those games were one goal games punctuated by 4-9 thumping by the Springfield Thunderbirds. What’s gone wrong? As gratifying as it would be to place the blame on a Brendan Guhle turnover versus Utica for example, the truth maybe more complicated. The Amerks are showing how young and inexperienced they really are, showing how rookie mistakes do cause losses. Perhaps rookie mistakes could be blamed for the losses in this tough stretch barring that Springfield massacre. With this backdrop you can probably imagine why a rookie mistake on the part of the Front Office really grated everyone the wrong way.

Heavily touted European free agent pickup Lawrence Pilut was called up by the Buffalo Sabres on Wednesday the 21st. The first player call up of the season was met with the normal reactions: excitement from Sabres fans wanting to see the AHL dominating defenseman and caution from Amerks fans awaiting a Friday game just hoping he’d be utilized properly and returned fairly. Then, for that sympathetic win against Philadelphia on Thanksgiving Eve he was sat. Ok, sure… then he was sat again on Friday night against Montreal before being returned to Rochester too late for that night’s Amerks game: a stint in the Press Box? What is this all about? It seemed like the complaints from the fanbase both in Rochester and Buffalo was justified this time. Sure, you can teach the big club system from watching games but the whole idea of the farm system is to implement the system with that club so fitting in with the big boy’s system is just a matter of playing games for adjustment. No games were played and now, a week later the same situation is happening. Pilut, called up before Tuesday night’s home win against San Jose, did not play in that game and now rides the plane down to Florida for a road trip that won’t end until Monday Night. Missing two Amerks games without getting a start for the Sabres would be a repeat of the prior fiasco just on a larger scale. That is yet to be seen as of the posting of this blog but the point remains: is there a problem managing the personnel in the Sabres-Amerks pipeline in this organization?

So let’s just get a couple of overly-simplistic arguments out of the way. No: the parent-farm club relationship does dictate the big club calls up players from the farm club at will but that does not grant a pardon to misusing players at will. The Linus Ullmark situation last season is heavily derided in Rochester but the justification for Buffalo was there: a backup was needed while Robin Lehner was out. Maybe call up the goaltender that isn’t the AHL All-star preparing to backstop the team in the AHL playoffs but the Sabres (who were already out of a playoff spot at that point) had a solid justification. The concussion Ullmark got in Buffalo that ruined him for the AHL playoffs was sustained in practice in a stretch Ullmark hardly even got a start in a Sabres sweater. This leads me to the second overly-simplistic argument in these disputes. No, just because the parent club mismanages sometimes doesn’t mean they’re sabotaging the AHL club. That is flatly stupid and counter to all the rhetoric and action that the Jason Botterill regime has put into AHL Rochester. So where does that leave us? Well it’s a mystery. In the same way we all wondered why Tage Thompson wasn’t sent down yet earlier this month the answer may just be a development plan we’re all not privy to. It’s hard to imagine what that maybe but I recommend patience while we find out.

This post hasn’t been all that funny. I take pride in enjoying the informality and humor of this blog and being a Rochesterian from birth I think there is some humor in how the Amerks are faring right now. There were two dreams last season for Rochester Americans fans: showing the North Division Rochester was back and going on a deep Calder Cup run. While that first dream of ascending to the top of the North Division is realized for now it comes with the dampers of two of those divisional rivals declining in large part through graduation and an overall less dominate division compared to the rest of the AHL. Don’t worry, that wasn’t the punch line. The punch line is that it means outside of fighting for that division title this season, Amerks fans really get to focus primarily on the great skill they now have. I find it somewhat ironic that the season more Sabres oriented fans really turn their attention to Rochester is also the season that Amerks fans have very little choice other than to show off those dynamos on either end of the ice. You may call it a self-fulfilling prophesy but I call it divine intervention for an Amerks fanbase often insecure for no good reason and complaining about the Sabres just because they can. That is, this season is a chance to mend whatever divide grew between the two, ultimately already conjoined fanbases and stop bickering about stupid shit. Perhaps that’s what twitter is for but stuff is looking up everywhere in the organization and maybe let’s just enjoy that.

I really need input on Amerks Angle. I feel caught between just fawning over the team I followed the closer as a child and providing something like analysis. Yeah, this whole blog isn’t really about analysis but I don’t want to go hard talking banners and shit if I am not going to cover each individual game. Leave me a comment, hostile or not, I want some thoughts on my conundrum. Like this and share it as the posts here are fun and getting more fun each week if I do say so myself. The Amerks, Pilut or not, will get out of this rut and I look forward to seeing how they do it.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. The Pegulas will never move the Amerks out of Rochester. They are looking to solidify a long term deal to operate the Blue Cross Arena and the improvements they make and investments they make in downtown Rochester will similarly indicate their commitment as investment in downtown Buffalo has indicated their commitment there.

#rochester americans #rochester #hockey #ahl

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kalico-to-the-letter · 6 years

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STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI is GREAT (4.5/5)

I’ve seen this film twice already (because I have no actual life) and I feel like I can put proper voice to my thoughts on it now. For once, I’m going to do a write-up with no spoilers, because this is a bit different to writing about RWBY, isn’t it?

First, some preamble. I enjoy Star Wars, to a point, but am by no means devoted. I mean, the prequel films are unwatchable, and The Empire Strikes Back shades the other original films by a considerable distance. With that context, how can I be devoted? But I’ve always enjoyed the commitment of the franchise to its own high-science-fantasy, and I acknowledge the place in history of that original trilogy. And I liked The Force Awakens. I know it’s cool to say now that it’s not all that good, but I think it performed an unenviable task in admirable fashion.

Being familiarised with Rian Johnson ever since his directorship on The Last Jedi was announced, I was expecting this film to depart from the safety that J.J. Abrams ensured on The Force Awakens, but within reason, of course. This is part of a massive, global machine, after all. Nonetheless, I went into this expecting very little other than that it would probably be good.

As you could infer from the title of this post, this film is more than just good. In my opinion, of course.

I’m not hypebeasting here, either, or at least trying not to. I remember immediately after The Force Awakens first screenings, it had 100% approval on Rotten Tomatoes (which, it must be said, is not a reliable or comprehensive measure of a film’s quality). Even so, all I could see was love for Episode VII. The accusations of cribbing the plot from A New Hope were there, but at the same time kind of excused or overlooked.

I get why. The Force Awakens essentially functioned as the revival of the universe and franchise, and familiarity through nostalgia was always going to be integral. (Not that the film was ever likely to tank at the box office, regardless of what creative direction it took – stick Star Wars in the title and you’re good.)

And The Last Jedi does similar things here, taking from the basic premise of Empire Strikes Back to establish its own situation. It starts with the heroes’ base coming under attack from the villains, and a major storyline is focused on a young up-and-comer learning the trade from the wizened and regretful master.

But a retread, this is not.

Last takes the establishing premise of Empire, but then it runs off in a new direction – and the resultant experiment pays dividends for the future of the continuing Star Wars story and franchise, while also delivering a film which is 150 minutes long, but rarely feels like it sags; a complete arc of narrative and character (mostly the latter) which helps to no end with the continued investment in the newer franchise members; and something which remains faithful to the history of Star Wars, whilst building something new and refreshing and exciting to take its place.

This film is a thrill ride, packed with tension and drama. There is almost an actual ticking clock feel to everything, that for our heroes, pressure is mounting on three sides and going with the fourth is a gamble that may keep them alive a little longer, or very well destroy everything they’ve built in a second.

Often in this film, the odds are stacked so heavily against the heroes that you think, “They’re actually going to lose here”, because there is no conceivable way for them to escape. Of course, this can create a problem, where “deux”, “ex”, and “machina” become the three most secretly important words to the writer, but this film seldom solves its conflicts with solutions that can’t ultimately be justified, such is the intelligence of Johnson and co. and the resolve to put firm conclusions on the major stories of the film.

“Kill the past”, says Kylo Ren in the trailer of The Last Jedi. You certainly couldn’t accuse this film of shying away from that, or taking such a bold statement lightly. More so than just moving on from the old mythologies of the franchise, it takes its direction in ways which are unfamiliar, almost unexpected given the available formula composed by a body of seven prior chapters.

Simply, this film is what happens when a plan comes together and the people at the locus of it bring their A-game. And I’m not even going to compare; it’s really a fool’s task to attempt. My advice is to accept that two things from different times must be weighted differently but can still stand on equal footing. This is just so you can just avoid the task of measuring two films with more than thirty years put between them.

Without spoiling this film, I cannot say much more, so go and see this if you are interested. A last word: In my opinion, The Last Jedi comfortably stands with Empire Strikes Back as the best that the Star Wars franchise has had to offer.

If you’ve seen the film, what did you think? Which storylines/character arcs did you like or dislike the most? Like me, were you absolutely astounded by the nonsense about the audience reception? And if you haven’t seen this film, what are you looking forward to? Have the stories about the audiences affected your anticipation?

– Kallie

#star wars #the last jedi

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moonlitgleek · 7 years

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Can you tell me why do you enjoy Glee? I'm not one of those who hate on the show for being LGBT-friendly, it's just that the characters are so inconsistent, the pairings are often forced and the storylines can be cringeworthy to really bad. Not that there isn't talent on the cast. I liked the earlier seasons, but I thought it became so nonsense later on... Maybe I'm not watching the way it should be watched, idk...

I’ve been sitting on a similar message for months now, trying to figure out how to respond. The problem with these messages that always leave me in a bind is that I do not think my answer would be really satisfactory to you. We all respond to media in different ways, have our own lines in the sand as to how much we can suspend our belief, like different things, etc. So I don’t know if I can really give you a different perspective on the show or anything; all I can offer is my own viewing experience.

I did not like the first season of Glee. I almost quit so many times during that first season but I was always pulled back and convinced to give the show another chance. Every time I planned to stop, a magical moment would happen - Mercedes singing I Am Beautiful, Burt telling Kurt that his job was to be himself and Burt’s job was to love him no matter what, the kids pulling a setlist out of thin air as Will listened and cried, the Glee club singing Lean on Me to Finn and a pregnant Quinn, Quinn giving birth to the tune of Bohemian Rhapsody, to name a few - and I’d be so moved that I’d decide to stick it out with the show for a little while longer. That’s not to say the first season was necessarily bad, I just did not enjoy it. The Will\Sue rivalry did not sustain the season on its own, I hated the Will\Teri story, I did not think the team gelled, and I wasn’t pulled by any of the characters.

Come season 2, things changed. I fell in love with the characters. My starting point in any show is the characters - if I can’t even like the characters, I can not go on watching even if the story is phenomenal. Season 2 got me interested in these characters as people, really delved into the characterization of the students and their stories which was a million time more interesting than Will, Teri and Sue. They introduced my favorite character, the writing got tighter, and they did a marvelous job with Kurt’s and Santana’s arcs. This was the season that cemented my love for Glee, aided by how much I started relating to these characters. I started to watch the show between seasons 3 and 4 when I was fresh out of college and feeling pressured to make it, scared that my academic success would not translate to a good career “in the real world” or that I just was not enough. So I understood these characters and their struggles. I saw my own fears in theirs. I related to them and rooted for them.

Now, I know that lots of people did not like the latter seasons but honestly, seasons 4 and 5 are my absolute favorites in this series. I genuinely enjoyed them despite some glaring problems. See, I watched Glee with my eyes wide open. I knew its problems and was infuriated by some of them: storylines that didn’t really go anywhere, stories that were set up perfectly but wrapped up sloppily, some obvious pace issues, big name guest stars that tended to become a plot black hole - if a big name guest star appeared, often the plotlines of the regulars got shelved in favor of showcasing said guest star - the writing even became reactionary at one point as some shippers took to social media to hound the writers over their ships, and Ryan responded by making a point through the writing. I saw all of that.But while I admit that there were issues worthy of criticism in Glee, I also think that there came a point where it became “cool” to disparage the show, and that fed to a widespread feeling of negativity towards it. I’d see someone lamenting how Glee stopped being silly and fun and now took itself too seriously but when the show did a cracky ridiculous episode like the ones it used to do in earlier seasons, it was criticized for being too silly and not taking its audience seriously. The writers got flayed for doing PSA episodes and I’d read think pieces on how they should employ subtle storytelling and not throw their themes in our face, but when they did so with their story about race - one of the subtlest and longest running storylines - it largely got dismissed because people simply did not notice it since Glee did not wave a red flag saying “this is a race story” (though honestly, when it did explicitly tell us it’s a race story in Asian F, some still failed to understand that yes, this is about race.) At one point, there was no winning for the show, everything was criticized.

One of my favorite things about Glee, though, is that it managed to sell me on things I thought I’d never accept and made me love characters that I wasn’t a big fan of even four and five seasons in. For the love of god, Glee somehow managed to make me really care about Dave freaking Karofsky which is a damn feat. Like, Finn and Santana were two characters that I’ve always struggled with. I outright disliked and resented Finn at the end of season 3, and then season 4 happened and my god, did I fall in love with Finn - that goofy, stubborn, supportive kid who stepped up, learned from his mistakes and became a rock to the younger generation. Santana was just intriguing in that season and she drew me in in a way that she hadn’t done before. Season 4 had its problems, but it’s the season that genuinely made me so attached to Glee. Blaine was a bloody revelation and a joy to watch. Sam somehow managed to steal my heart. Tina had really good material that I enjoyed to death to make up for three seasons of sidelining. The NND had a very rough start and the show struggled in the beginning to give the newbies distinguishing characterization that did not echo the graduated characters’ but once they found their groove, they became a team that I loved with all my heart, one that I enjoyed seeing interact far more than I ever did the previous team. Season 4 was primarily about friendships and support, it allowed the characters to fly their nerd flags and they felt like real teenagers in their silliness. And hey, very little Will. That was always a plus.

While season 5 was heavily impacted by Cory’s death, and despite how that forced the writers to throw away their plans for the season which unfortunately led to some storylines getting axed, I found it a solid season with some excellent episodes that capitalized and improved on the relationships they set in season 4, and that did a much, much better job with its pacing. I find it admirable that they managed such a good season after a heavy personal and professional loss as Cory’s death.

As for characterization, I disagree that it was inconsistent. Obviously I have no idea which characters you have in mind but the two characters I often saw this criticism directed at are Blaine and Tina, and I just don’t agree. The bones of Blaine and Tina’s later characterization are laid in seasons 2 and 3 if one looks for them, and can we really call them inconsistent when they were only truly fleshed out in the same season that prompted people to criticize their characterization? Because both characters were underdeveloped in earlier seasons. Butcharacters are constantly developing and I can’t expect the characters to be the same four or five seasons in as they were in season 1. As long as the change falls in line with previous storylines or expands in them in a non-contradictory way, then it’s not inconsistent. That’s not to say that I enjoyed every bit of characterization from every character (I was very vocal in my dislike for s4!Rachel’s characterization), but just because I did not enjoy it does not necessarily mean that it was inconsistent. That’s a line I had to find while watching.

But it all comes down really to the fact that I still found magic in Glee despite its problems. I found as much joy in On Our Way as I did in Ride Wit Me and as much beauty in If I Were A Boy as in I Am Beautiful. NND were even more important to me than OND were, Blam meant the world to me, as did Blaine’s struggle with his insecurities, Kitty’s journey, Jake’s anger, Ryder’s ridiculousness, Marley’s steadiness, Unique’s bravery, Rachel’s stumbling, Tina’s resentment, it all meant something to me. I loved these characters and was invested in their happiness and their success. I started watching Glee for the story of these underdogs standing up to the world around them and picking themselves up after they were knocked down again and again, I stayed for the sense of community and support they built against all odds which is something the show never lost, and I ended it with them, with Rachel Berry accepting that Tony, with Kurt and Blaine happily married with a baby on the way, with Mercedes successful and fulfilled. It ended with a show of friendship as these kids who stuck by each other through thick and thin gathered to support one of their own, and with that weird, crazy, dysfunctional, flawed group of people coming together to honor the person who made Mckinley just a little bit brighter for many of them. Perhaps he never got the chance to walk these halls as a teacher, or to become the teacher that future Mckinley students deserved, but he still left a legacy behind.

Moments like these are why I enjoyed Glee, and why, despite all of its problems, it remains one of few shows that touched me the most.

#Anon asks #ask box #glee

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draumrfold · 5 years

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Half Haven: The Elf That Was On Fire

The early morning light drifts into my room, I’ve woken at the crack of dawn to see the sun just starting to ascend into the sky, I take this time to find my center and meditate on all that has happened recently. While I am meditating the ground starts to shake violently, which I find quite alarming, it lasts for about a minute or so. When it stops I head out to check on everyone, apparently earthquakes are quite normal and there is no need for concern. This plane of existence is very odd.

After realizing everyone was fine, I went downstairs and ordered us all breakfast. They also had tea and coffee, it was delicious, it’s been quite some time since I had had either. Honestly, I find indulging in tea and coffee more enjoyable than drinking ale. Last night was well deserved and amusing and it looked like everyone else had a great time...there are just better ways for me to spend my time.

After we had all eaten our fill we set out for the Bard’s College. BoBo seems very hesitant on fulfilling his promise he made me, but I don’t press him on it. However when we arrive at the College, we are denied access because only students and alumni are allowed to enter, and BoBo is neither of those. To say I am disappointed in BoBo would be an understatement, I keep this to myself though, because now is not the time, later I will talk with him about it. Maybe there is more to the story, but that seems doubtful knowing what I do so far about BoBo. I turn my attention so finding another solution and ask BoBo if he knows of any public library or places that would have information on plane shifting. He leads us to a small shop that sells parchment and ink, I’m starting to think we are wasting our time when a nice little old lady appears behind the counter.

Turns out she use to be a pretty good mage and is able to offer some very useful information on plane shifting. She tells us that:

The plane we are currently on is guarded against plane shifting by a divine barrier.

The Doomvault must have been a demi-plane with multiple connections or a nexus of sorts.

Tells us of a realm of doors/realm of sigils, which connects to all planes.

We will need a powerful spellcaster to cast the spell “Plane Shifting” in order to send me back to the right plane. However the Divine Barrier is what is going to stop me from going back, we have to find a way to bring it down or to get through it. Otherwise, I’m pretty stuck here.

At the end of our discussion, she tries to banish me, despite saying that I didn’t wish to be banished, but it kinda worked? At least for a few seconds. However, I was in the strangest of places. It was a black room, with a man, who looked up at me and said “You’re not dead,” I looked back at him and said, “Ya I know, I’m lost and now confused,” he replied “Good luck with that,” snapped his fingers and I was back in the shop.

On our way out of the shop, we ran into Talrean. “Glad you’re not dead,” I say to him. He randomly disappeared upon our arrival into the city yesterday. “It takes a lot to kill me.” He replies. “That remains to be seen,” I say flatly.

Our conversation is interrupted by Galadin who stole Ashrah’s parchment and was running down the ally with it, while she shouted “Stop that thief,” Talrean raised his bow and threatened to shoot him. Of course, Guards happened to be walking by and came to check out the commotion. Maliadin managed to talk our way out of trouble.

After leaving the ally and the guards we headed over to see the Hero’s of Easthaven monument in the Nobel district of the city. It was very peaceful. The monument is in a section of the city known as “The Hanging Gardens” flowers, and gardens, and magical plants were everywhere. I thought about how Maelin and Aura would have loved to see this place and would have loved to inspect each and every plant. Hopefully, they aren't dead, they seem like good people, and I would like to see them again even if they annoy me and aren’t most useful in fights. Even if it’s just to recount this tale to them.

While we were at the monument and everyone was paying their respects I decided to wait patiently and meditate, the Ki here is strange, it all seems to flow strongest from on top of BoBo’s statues head. It would be wildly inappropriate to climb on his statue so I just sit in front and make due.

“Sir Bradford is a Knight from Thrallia. He was sent to East Haven by his father who thought some time out of the city would do him some good as well as teach him the lessons he needed to be a successful leader”

Not long after we see Brightclaw appear in the sky with two riders. The Princess and Sir Bradford approach, the princess explains she's here to drop Sir Bradford off with us and she is on her way to see her father. Sir Bradford has a quest for us. Sir Bradford is the Prince of Thrallia (& the Princesses brother) and will be joining us as backup on our quest. He outfits us with war horses that are fully equipped.

We set out for a Giants outpost our mission is to gather intelligence. I find it rather strange to be sending a party made up of mostly heavily armored people to gather intelligence when it seems more of a job for more sneaky people, but this is what the party has decided to do, so off we go. The day’s travel is fine, we rest at the same camp where we encountered the Man, Pig, Bear sighting which admittedly gives me pause but we have BoBo’s hut for protection.

The next morning arrives and Sir Bradford makes some kind of attempt of conversation with me but in the end, fails or gives up, I’m not sure. It seems like he has something on his mind, but he asked the weirdest question about my master’s wisdom. I don’t think I’ve ever considered him wise is the thing. Crazy, interesting, obsessive, a little too invested in death sure, but wise? Mmmm. I’m not so sure. He did know a lot, and his research was top notch, but there is a difference in being intelligent and wise, I would definitely say my master was intelligent. He was a far cry from the Monks at the monastery, the council that ran it was made up of the most diplomatic, most honest people in the monastery. I would say they were wise, but maybe not so much my master.

On our ride we notice the grass growing rather wildly, and Talrean seems to think it is growing at a rapid pace. At one point it’s so tall that I take my quarterstaff to see if I can cut it down so I can see. Vines entangle it and myself and throw me from my horse on to the ground. We end u facing several monsters all the while I am stuck on the stupid ground entangled in poisonous vines. The vines tingle kind of like acupuncture, it’s a bit relaxing after a while. When I am finally released most of the creatures are already dead and there is just one left. Thankfully this party is pretty good at fighting. I rush over to the last creature and with Talrean’s help we put it down. With the defeat of the creatures the grass resides and is back to normal, we continue on our journey. The rest of the journey is uneventful, thankfully.

When we arrive outside of the Giant’s outpost Sir Bradford tells us that this is as far as his scouts have made it, and reinforces that he is here to serve as back up. That his “adventuring skills” do not compare to ours, that he is better at running a city and fighting on front lines. Talrean then compares running a city to adventuring like it’s the same thing. I give him a look of what an idiot, which Sir Bradford shares with me.

It is soon revealed this is a terrible idea in general. We run into the problem of we have no idea where we are going and can’t really sneak around, nor do we know specifically what kind of intelligence we are looking for. In the end, we’re put into a position of having to figure out a distraction so we can all make it across a hallway and into another door without being seen. Talrean decides to attempt to distract them and/or self-sacrifice in order to cause a distraction. I don’t see exactly what he does but there is shouting and smells of smoke and fire. I do hear him shout for us to run, it’s then that I am faced with a critical decision, what he’s done is incredibly stupid, but I also hear my master's voice floating in my head.

He’s reading from a scroll from one of his many friends “To expire in service to its principle is one of the most profoundly holy experiences a living being can hope to enjoy.” It is with this that I see Talrean and I have something in common, both of us have mastered the fear of death, and use it to our advantage in our own ways.

#tales of arie #the lost monk #session 4 #dnd #tales of Thrallia #dnd 5e #player journal #dungeons and dragons #Thrallia #plane shifting #time travel #giants #way of the long death #disciple of saint sollars #disciple of san sollars the twice-martyed #order of the yellow rose #dungeon journal

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snootysith · 7 years

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The Mark of a Good Sith (1/?)

@fluffynexu This is way overdue. So overdue.

Title: The Mark of a Good Sith Words: 4269 Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters/(Pairings): Darth Vowrawn/Lord Cytharat, Darth Vowrawn/Darth Gravus, Lord Haresh, Overseer Harkun Rating: Mature (for now) Warning: Age Difference (it’s huge), Power Imbalance (also huge), Vowrawn’s Ego (astronomical) Summary: Darth Vowrawn spies promise in young Cytharat. A/N: I haven’t dedicated this much effort in writing in actual years lmao but Vowrawn is worth it. I’m trying to pace myself and drop lines here and there to expand in future fics. Hopefully. Story under the cut.

Korriban was exceptionally frigid today.

Darth Vowrawn would call it bracing.

After having spent the last few hours rattling off the annual budget plan, he needed something to lift his spirits. The attendance of Dark Councilors tended to flounder this time of year. It was practically a holiday and he would have been happy to treat it as one himself if Darth Marr wasn’t so insufferably diligent.

Always present, always punctual, and never asleep behind that mask. Definitely not. Never the great Darth Marr.

Vowrawn gave a snort, startling an acolyte who hadn’t noticed him standing in the shadow of the statue. Amused, he watched her bow her head and quicken her pace. Fifty years and the novelty still hadn’t rubbed off. He enjoyed the attention. It came with being a social magnet and not a terror like Ravage whose temper evoked hysteria more than deference.

Unseemly. Where was the panache?

Vowrawn spotted sleek, silver hair bobbing up the steps. Why, here he was.

Vowrawn pressed himself closer to the statue and carefully blanketed his presence, waiting until his quarry passed him. He propelled forward. “Surprise!”

Darth Gravus didn’t so much as bat an eyelash as he latched to his arm. “Still beating that dead horse?”

“If it worked once…”

Gravus raised his eyes upwards praying for strength as Vowrawn cheerfully rattled on about their academy days-- how Gravus nearly gutted him like a fish the first time they crossed, how the overseers had to keep them in separate dorms following the incident, how the two of them had been rivals until a compromise was made inside a second-floor utility closet, and how the overseers had to keep them in separate dorms again for all the racket they made—

“Are you proposing we recreate our first time?” Gravus interrupted. “I’ll have to disappoint you. I can’t lift you up without killing my back.”

“Nothing so pedestrian,” Vowrawn huffed. “You could at least try to play along. I’ve had a dreadful day as is.”

“Ah, Darth Marr was in attendance again?”

“He’s doing it to spite me,” Vowrawn said peevishly. “He thinks I’m up to no good in my free time.”

It was truly a mark of their bond that Gravus made no attempt to take the bait. Disappointing.

“You never relax,” he replied. “Even when you sleep. Business is your pleasure. You capitalize your time and effort. Which begs the question: why else are you here?”

“Can’t a man spend time with his oldest and dearest friend?” Vowrawn asked innocently.

Gravus gave him a long-suffering look.

Vowrawn chuckled and leaned heavily on his companion. “I’m in the market for a new apprentice if you must know,” he said.

Gravus’s mouth twitched. “As am I.”

“What are the chances! I hear there’s a promising batch of acolytes this month. I wanted a sneak peek.”

“What are the chances, indeed…” Gravus said, narrowing his eyes. “You still have Qet, don’t you? He could just as easily do this for you. There’s no reason to get your hands dirty.”

“I might as well stamp my name on his forehead,” Vowrawn drawled. “They all know who he serves. It’s counterproductive. Besides, I thought you could use the company.”

Gravus raised an eyebrow. “I should be so lucky.”

“How is dear Thana?” Vowrawn simpered. He gave Gravus’s hand a brief squeeze before those brown eyes could harden. “I’m only teasing.”

“She’ll be back,” Gravus said dismissively. “Until then, an extra pair of hands would not go amiss. I don’t have time or the appropriate people to run other operations.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Really?”

They stopped short in front of the ancient obelisk that dwarfed the room but they might as well have been standing beside rubble for all the attention they drew. Overseers and acolytes alike stared at them as they passed. Whether it was out of curiosity, awe, or fear it mattered not. No one, not even a fresh initiate, could be heedless of their power.

“You’ve always spoke so highly of Qet,” Gravus continued. “I thought he was more than capable.”

“He’ll never lack in enthusiasm,” Vowrawn said. “But I want someone with more finesse. More guile. Someone able to move about without riding any coattails. Chiefly, mine.”

“An assassin.”

“Of sorts.”

“A glorified errand boy.”

“You’re so sure it’s going to be a boy.”

“You have a track record. And a predisposition.”

Vowrawn pulled a face. “Sith in glass houses should not throw lightning.” With that, he broke away to head down the lower hallways.

“And just where are you going?” Gravus caught up to him and grabbed him by the elbow. “The acolytes are upstairs with Cestus.”

Vowrawn shook off his hand. “The academy has more than one room, you know.”

“There aren’t any ‘rooms’ where you’re going. Only slave pens.”

“Semantics.” “Slaves, aliens, and Harkun’s ilk.” Gravus sneered as though the words left a bad taste in his mouth. “They are not worthy of your time. You shouldn’t be seen with them.”

Ah, there it was. Rearing its ugly head again. Always so quick to discard diamonds in the rough.

Vowrawn made a dismissive noise. “By all means, head upstairs if the muck scares you. I have other robes and a strong stomach.”

He really ought to stop baiting the man but he wanted his company and a second opinion once they got around to reaching the training room.

Good student that he was, Vowrawn had done his homework before coming to the academy. The subject had changed but the principle was relatively the same. Analyzing class rosters, weighing each potential’s strengths and weaknesses, predicting the likelihood of improvement—he had done so in his youth to help cull his competition early. Now, it would help in preserving where it mattered.

But numbers and secondhand information only painted broad strokes. Something like this required a deft hand, a critical eye, and—

Vowrawn paused briefly as he was hit with a potent smell of battle and musk.

— apparently, his nose too.

His interest only intensified when he slipped into the training room amidst the fracas of clashing vibroblades and curses. He leaned against the doorjamb right beside a ragged training dummy while Gravus lurked just out of sight near the doorway, clearly too proud to step further inside but apprehensive about letting Vowrawn out of his sight.

Darling man.

There was suddenly a ferocious snarl and Vowrawn was immediately drawn back to the other occupants in the room.

A Zabrak with dusky orange skin and a web of black facial tattoos had launched himself at another acolyte, nearly toppling them both. The strength of his attack belayed his lanky form. There was no technique in his attacks just raw instinct. This clearly wasn’t his first fight though. His response to the other acolyte’s flurry of swings was almost immediate, weaving side to side, managing to dodge all attacks— save one.

The Zabrak stumbled back with another curse as the vibroblade landed a blow on his upper arm. Tricked by a clever little feint by a surprisingly proficient swordsman.

And, hello, what a dashing swordsman it was.

Vowrawn’s nose twitched as he scented the air again. There was no missing a fellow Sith pureblood, especially one battered, bruised, and drenched in sweat. There were deep shadows beneath his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and long training hours but in the heat of the duel, those yellow eyes shone bright as gold.

His steps were more certain than the Zabrak’s, more practiced and quick, but there was a pattern to his movement. His eyes kept darting to the position of his blade, he constantly corrected his posture, and his lips moved soundlessly to form… encouragement? Or was he reciting instructions? Right foot forward, lunge, disengage, parry, advance, retreat, advance, advance.

The footwork did look pretty if one ignored how much ground he lost for it.

“What is he doing here?” Gravus muttered. “Blood as blue as he is red… what is he trying to prove pitting himself against slaves?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Vowrawn said absently. His gaze remained fixed on the young Sith pureblood, admiring his lean but strong figure as he pressed another attack.

“Beg—oh.” Comprehension flickered in Gravus’s eyes as he reexamined the young Sith pureblood more closely. Tailored robes. Perfect posture. A fondness for jewelry.

Vowrawn’s eyes crinkled in amusement when Gravus gave him a sidelong look. Why, yes darling, the similarity was uncanny. It tickled his interest and, admittedly, his vanity too.

“A boy like that doesn’t accidentally find himself in a slave pen,” Gravus said slowly. “A fall from grace?”

“Oh, most certainly.”

“How far up?”

“Very.”

Gravus clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Politics.”

Vowrawn stifled a laugh and crossed his arms. “Politics,” he agreed. Such was the capricious life of the Sith aristocracy. Hosts of houses could be made and unmade over mere trifles. The pretense, the promises, the scandal—it always upset Gravus’s nouveau riche sensibilities. Ho hum.

It was disappointing but perhaps it was for the best. Politics, while entertaining, demanded the highest stakes for the greatest rewards and he was not ready to surrender his favorite just yet. He’d invested so much in him, after all. He had aged so well and was clever enough to keep him amused after all these years. Losing him would be a terrible waste.

The duel carried on a great deal longer. Neither acolytes would yield despite the toll it was taking on them. Their footwork became less steady, every swing seemed to shave a week off their very lifespan, and drawing breath was its own labor. So wrapped up in wearing each other down, they still had yet to even notice their audience. Incredible.

“That boy.” Gravus indicated the Sith pureblood with a raised chin. “Caught your eye, has he?”

Vowrawn raised his brow. “Perhaps.”

“I heard Malgus has designs on him already.”

Vowrawn finally tore his gaze away to give him an odd look. Darth “Gossip is For Spinsters” Gravus?

“You aren’t the only one who likes to know things,” Gravus said dryly. “Besides, do you really want to make an enemy of that man?”

Vowrawn smiled. “I love it when you fuss over me,” he said. “Have no fear. I know what I’m doing.”

He waited until the Zabrak pressed an advantage over the Sith pureblood, virtually throwing all his weight behind one last desperate attack. The Sith pureblood stumbled down to one knee, chest heaving, arms trembling, and he seemed to brace for a blow that would knock him clean out.

Which, no doubt, would have been his fate if Vowrawn hadn’t chosen that precise moment to loudly clear his throat.

The Zabrak gave a start and whirled around—only to trip on his opponent’s vibroblade and land face-first into the sweat soaked mat.

Gravus wrinkled his nose.

Vowrawn smothered his chuckle with a cough and scampered out the room, shoving lightly at Gravus to pick up the pace before the young Sith pureblood could catch sight of them.

It wasn’t until they were both entrenched in the second-floor library that Vowrawn allowed himself to laugh. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“The boy.”

Gravus rubbed his chin as he mulled over this. “He’s pretty,” he said at length. He suddenly glanced at Vowrawn. “He looks like you when you were his age.”

Vowrawn’s lips quirked up into a playful smile. “You thought I was pretty?”

“There were other things that came to mind when I thought of you.”

“Disgusting,” Vowrawn crooned.

Gravus smirked. “Truthfully,” he went on. “His pedigree is plain. He must have come out of preparatory school with high marks. If not, I wonder how he hasn’t choked on the silver spoon in his mouth yet. It must be small then if he’s still sorted with aliens. Politics. Everything to lose and little to gain. But then…” He gave Vowrawn a sidelong look. “You already know all this, don’t you?”

Vowrawn only smiled.

“Is this you testing my good sense again?” There was a touch of annoyance in his voice. “Or do you really intend to make the boy your apprentice?”

“Perhaps.” If anything, the demonstration today also kindled an interest in the Zabrak but Vowrawn kept that thought safely to himself. Gravus had a limit in tolerating his eccentricities.

“What is his name? The boy.”

“Cytharat.” More a title than a name. Much like Vowrawn had inherited his from his own father.

Gravus wrinkled his nose. “My condolences.”

“It’s from the Old Tongue. It’s lovely.”

“As I’m sure you’ll describe ‘it’ once you’re through with him.”

“Cestus is calling,” Vowrawn huffed. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Gravus answered with a knowing smirk before departing. Vowrawn chalked this up as a tie.

Despite all the unsavory rumors of his private life, he seldom dabbled with men as young as Cytharat. Youth had its advantages but when it came to romance, they tended to fall in love too easily and it was more trouble than it was worth disentangling from them. Qet was evidence enough of that.

But that wasn’t to say he couldn’t indulge himself once in awhile.

With a little skip in his step, Darth Vowrawn made his way back downstairs, acolytes scattering in his wake.

Cytharat held Harkun’s stare in the thundering silence that followed.

He had already taken a sound beating in the training room. His pride could withstand a little more.

After dragging themselves to the nearest refreshers to scrub off the worse of the grime, he and Haresh were immediately summoned to Harkun’s office. More acolytes had huddled in the closed space before but their numbers had dwindled in a matter of weeks. Now it had come down to just four of them.

Haresh was a formidable rival, more so because he prevailed despite the deck stacked against him, and Cytharat respected him for it. The feeling was not mutual. Harkun had seen fit to drive a wedge between them at every turn. He was intent upon driving Haresh into the ground and considered Cytharat’s predicament with little more than a sneer.

There was no honor in being handed someone else’s accolades but Harkun had done so time and time again. It wasn’t even out of favoritism so much as ease. Cytharat just happened to be the nearest receptacle. He had tried to explain it to Haresh once the Zabrak had dragged himself out of the lower wilds.

Haresh had glowered at him. “You never turned them down.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Haresh’s laugh was devoid of humor. “Right, because you know how that feels more than me.”

No. They’d never be friends.

The Sith Academy was a treacherous path to navigate alone. Cytharat endured but he had his limits.

Haresh was stone-faced as Harkun’s hurled insults at him, while Cytharat stood to the side watching with a tired detachment.

“—any wonder why I have to suffer when you can’t amount to anything more than an animal,” Harkun snapped. “Even against the lowest Sith, you fail. What good is being an animal if you can’t even hold your own against a few swats—”

“No.” Cytharat could not stomach the indignity.

A terrible hush fell upon the room.

Haresh was giving him an odd look. Harkun had gone tightlipped with anger as he suddenly turned to glare at him.

“No,” Cytharat said in a low voice. “Haresh would have won.”

Harkun’s eyes narrowed. “Modesty will get you nowhere.”

“It is a fact.”

“Then it is a wretched lie. Are you a liar, boy, or just a fool?”

An insult sat heavily on Cytharat’s tongue. It pressed tight behind his teeth. He need only open his mouth.

Harkun stared into his face expectantly. “Well?”

Cytharat stared back at his overseer and felt his disapproval bake on his skin. Foolish. One step to completing his trials. One step to breaking free of the humiliation. He had inherited a legacy of soul crushing shame, what was a little more? It was only temporary and—and mother. To disappoint her would… to have come so far, to have sacrificed what favors they had left for nothing—

Cytharat lowered his eyes and swallowed.

Harkun’s smugness was almost palpable. “I thought so.” He turned his back to him. “Spineless like your old man.”

Oh no.

Bile rose in his throat. “And are you spineless, overseer, or just a fool?”

Harkun went ramrod straight as though he were hit with a bolt of lightning. He turned back ever so slowly, his eyes brimming with murder. “What did you say to me?” he whispered.

Mother was going to skin him alive. “Haresh would have won,” Cytharat said. “He is strong, he has potential to be Sith, he is an asset. We stand to gain nothing from squandering power.”

“You dare tell me how to do my own job, acolyte?”

“Someone must.”

Harkun reddened. His knuckles audibly popped as his hands curled into fists.

Cytharat resolutely held his gaze and braced for the brunt of his rage. He was only distantly aware of Haresh stepping to the side. Out of firing range.

Smart.

His tongue swiped out to wet his cracked lips. He wondered if his punishment would be greater if he threw up his own protective barrier.

The tension was thick and crackled with energy—or perhaps that was just the lightning between Harkun’s fingers.

There was suddenly a smattering of applause.

Harkun glanced towards the doorway and his face fell. The tension bled from his body and he seemed to curl inwards. He was as pale as a sheet, looking for all the world like a lost child.

There was no time to relish the moment. Not when Cytharat’s own mind stalled when he turned around to look at their visitor.

“D… Darth…” Harkun seemed only capable of wheezing.

“Darth Vowrawn…” Cytharat breathed.

The elderly Sith leaned against the doorway with a crooked smile. He wiggled a few fingers at them in a half-hearted wave. “Have you considered being an actor?” He smiled at Cytharat. “Playing martyr wins you many hearts.”

No. The novelty had definitely not worn off.

Harkun’s face alone could cheer him up for several rainy days.

The Zabrak—Haresh— looked at him warily but uncomprehendingly. An fresh, off-world slave, no doubt, if his name invoked such little reaction.

Ah, but Cytharat recognized him in an instant. Interesting.

“So sorry for the intrusion,” Vowrawn said. “All the excitement piqued my curiosity. It is always a pleasure to see an acolyte take his education so seriously, no?”

“As you say, my lord,” Harkun said weakly.

“Might I borrow him?”

Harkun’s mouth audibly clicked shut and he glanced back and forth between Vowrawn and Cytharat. Did the man have the stomach to swallow all that pride and answer a smile with a smile?

A grin—a grimace really—split Harkun’s face. Close enough. “He is yours, Dark Lord. May you find him as agreeable as I do.” Well, well. Bold move, overseer.

Vowrawn’s gaze drifted to Cytharat’s bald faced astonishment and then briefly on Haresh.

Resentment bled from the Zabrak like an open, festering wound but he wore his mask well enough. Such potential there, too. Quiet and insidious and familiar to Vowrawn as his own limb.

“This won’t take long,” Vowrawn said once Cytharat fell into step. “As I’m sure you’re eager to join the fray again. I take it introductions are unnecessary?”

“I… yes, Darth Vowrawn. It is an honor.”

“The honor is entirely mine, dear boy,” Vowrawn purred. “I am rarely afforded the time to mingle with acolytes but it is always refreshing to find one with such passion and avant-garde. Between you and me…” He lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “The empire could stand to have more of you.”

The young Sith cracked a smile and Vowrawn counted it a victory.

He led them further down the hall and into to the academy’s cantina—empty, always curiously empty— where they settled comfortably on a couch. Or he did anyway.

Cytharat carefully put distance between them and kept his spine perfectly straight. He kept his eyes lowered, deferential and attentive, while Vowrawn’s mouth started running on autopilot.

Such a dutiful, well-mannered son of the empire.

A dime a dozen. How droll.

Where was the initiative he saw?

Cytharat chuckled softly at something he said and—

What was he saying? “—cient history, of course. You should thank your stars Overseer Ragate only administers the rite. The mortality rate of Sith purebloods increased under her tutelage no thanks to me.” Gossip. Hmph. Gravus was right. He could write an entire series of holomagazines.

“You know, it’s positively criminal that we haven’t been acquainted yet,” Vowrawn said abruptly.

Cytharat blinked the glaze from his eyes. “We have met before. Once.”

“Oh? I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

“I was only a boy then,” Cytharat said. “It was at a party celebrating Darth Ananta’s sixtieth birthday.”

Vowrawn stifled a laugh. His dear aunt had been celebrating her sixtieth birthday for almost four decades now. He’d be hard pressed to pick one face from swarming partygoers—not least because he’d been blind drunk more often than not.

“Cytharat, Cytharat, Cytharat…” Vowrawn hummed as he racked his brain. The name had come attached to someone that was certainly not a child then. Someone of note. Someone he had bothered to remember, fuzzy outline notwithstanding.

His eyes drew to the intricate gold bar clamped to the bridge of his nose. There were stories in the bits and baubles a Sith pureblood wore and it was a mark of pride that Cytharat stubbornly kept his.

Trying his best not to ogle, Vowrawn managed to translate bits of the High Sith he could decipher—something, something, valor and honor and… “to live is to serve”… the empire? No, that term represented a more abstract concept—ah! “the greater good”.

Yes… he’d heard that before. Not spoken at him precisely but… whispered against his skin. He remembered the brandy fogging up the air between two bodies. Hands clumsily navigating through robes while he laughed, head full of fluff, at how clever this man was calling him his greater good while he sank to his knees, pulled down his trousers, and—

Oh. Oh.

“Yes…” Vowrawn dragged the word out into two syllables. His eyes flicked away from Cytharat’s jewelry. “That’s right. Your… father was there.” Doing very unfatherly things in dark corners.

“You knew my father well?” Cytharat asked, giving a start.

Vowrawn regarded him with a tight smile. “We were well-acquainted, he and I.”

“I see.”

“Surprised?”

Cytharat’s eyes dimmed. “My father was dedicated to his work. He was a man of solitude who lived as he died in glorious servitude to the Empire. I am honored to carry on his legacy. Acquaintances were… rare.” There was as much passion and candor in his voice as a loaf of bread. He might as well have been reciting a dictionary. His father must have been a complete stranger to him.

A terrible shame. Such raw intellect and strength deserved to be honed by the best. Cytharat should never be left wanting.

“Socializing with the unsociable happens to be a gift of mine,” Vowrawn said. “Perks of being an extrovert.”

“As you say, my lord.”

Oh dear. He hit a nerve.

“Forgive me but I should return to my training.” Cytharat suddenly rising to his feet. “My trials…”

“Of course, of course. You’ve more important business than listening to an old man natter the day away.”

Cytharat looked utterly thunderstruck. “My lord, you more than that. You stand amongst the greatest Sith. You are a pillar of the empire. It is wisdom you speak and it is honor that I feel in attending to you. I am yours. I am—”

Vowrawn pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him before he could draw breath.

Mmph. He could stand to hear that in a more private setting.

“I think I can squeeze you in somewhere,” the older Sith purred and pressed a kiss to the corner of Cytharat’s mouth.

Cytharat’s eyes went comically wide and his mouth moved soundlessly for a minute.

Vowrawn watched him carefully, patiently waiting to see how his message would be received.

Another minute passed and Cytharat remained unresponsive.

With a heavy sigh, Vowrawn rose to his feet to leave but a hand suddenly closed around his wrist.

Bemused, he looked at Cytharat who immediately let go of him and clasped his arms behind his back.

“If… if you will have me, my lord,” he mumbled.

Vowrawn chuckled.

The young man beat a hasty retreat to the door and Vowrawn waited until he was out of sight before he followed, a skip in his step. He was pass the door when someone behind him spoke.

“‘Well-acquainted’? Is that what you call it now?”

Vowrawn tipped his head down with a smirk. “It’s poor etiquette to tell someone you’ve fornicated with their father,” he said without turning.

“I would have told him.”

Vowrawn laughed and faced his companion. "Of course you would. You’re beastly.”

Gravus’s lip curled and he pushed away from the wall. “Going to send him a dinner invitation?”

“You’re not invited,” Vowrawn retorted.

“Yet.”

Vowrawn held his knowing look for all of five seconds before he relented with a smile. “Yet,” he amended. For now, Cytharat was his and his alone to enjoy. Nothing stimulated intellect like a generously spiced meal.

And if the night took them out of the dining room and into his bedchamber…

Well.

It wouldn’t be the first time he served dessert there.

#darth vowrawn #lord cytharat #darth gravus #lord haresh #overseer harkun #swtor #slash #m/m #fanfiction #star wars #the old republic

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redscullyrevival · 7 years

Text

Ship of Destiny: Liveship Traders Rundown

@sonnetscrewdriver this has been a wild ride! TW: Spoilers abound and discussion of rape follows.

Setting/Plot/Narrative

For being my least favorite installment I do feel that this created world and it’s social/magical systems arrives at it’s most cohesive fruition in this last book, which makes sense, and I am thankful for that.

I also found the idea that a large bulk of what was expressed and used to motivate and further the story is tossed away, or altered, by the end of the book - in the sense that Tintaglia and the reintroduction of dragons into the world along with the recognition of the Pirate Isles reorders power, society, and economy - to be a unique and interesting choice.

Its a bit of a tricky move but it didn’t feel like “a waste” to me to have learned so thoroughly the world only for it to be rearranged at the end. It all worked towards the total theme of the series of inevitable change and response, in accepting life and taking responsibility for only what we can control.

Or, at least, that’s the big takeaway I got!

Althea Vestrit

Fuck

Okay

We’ll... we’ll have to come back to Althea in a second.

Captain Kennit

HHHHMMMMMMMSLDKFNL:KSLDK

This fucker.

Like a lot of characters with well done tragic backstories I was rooting for Kennit. I didn’t hate him but I didn’t really like him either, you know? As I said last time he exudes the “cool motive, still murder” type of deal - Kennit is a character who the majority of the series straddles the line of never being someone who gains reader sympathy while still being recognized by the reader as a deeply damaged person not entirely of his own making.

So I rooted for him.

Through out the entire series Kennit gets away with a lot of stuff and I understand from a narrative perspective that him raping Althea was a choice to have him cross a line. As the reader we know he raped Althea whereas everyone around, aside from Althea and Etta, isn’t sure he is capable of it.

Which turned into some intense fucking writing.

Because it isn’t ‘Kennit raped Althea so now he is the bad man everyone hates and a common enemy’, no. He remains captain. He remains a hero, the pirate king, the freer of slaves. A “good man”. We know Kennit isn’t a good man, but then again we’ve known that all along. We really have. All the signs were there. What was done to Kennit was all that was left of Kennit. Paragon tried to take that pain and suffering from him, but Kennit gave the hurt he received and that’s one reality of trauma and failure to cope. Because Kennit was never coping.

Ultimately I pitied Kennit while also accepting his actions as being abhorrent - getting angry and baring frothing teeth wasn’t my reaction. That isn’t how I react to this type of thing in narratives a lot of the time, especially with one that is trying it’s darnedest to be honest and respectable when it comes to this particular reflection of real life.

In the chapter the rape happened, the second my eyes read it, I came to hate Kennit. And that was the right response. That’s why it was written the way it was, I believe, so as to finally push the reader into having a real solid opinion about Kennit beyond his fake persona and his personal grab for power and fame elevating others; to remove benefit of the doubt completely and say “This is not a good person” no matter what his puzzled together sob story is and no matter what he has done in the name of social and political progress. Kennit is a shitbag human.

This series stresses, to an almost anxiety inducing degree, that people and life and situations are complex ever shifting, evolving, and decaying breathing entities. The only character who was truly stagnant and unmovable was Kennit, who hid under the guise of modernization and revolution. He had to be made irredeemable and dead.

This is a tight narrative that doesn’t abide such a person, doesn’t let such a person survive - that’s why so much emphasis was placed on the idea of Kennit’s luck. Something had to keep him around until he finally made a change, a choice, that would actually alter him.

To that end, I “like” the character as a device but not as an idea of a person or as a character-character.

What’s just as cutting is that Winthrow, Vivacia, Jek, (and probably society/history) doubt Althea. It’s gut wrenchingly frustrating. And it taints those characters just as much as it paints Kennit; and entirely because we know the total truth how they don’t.

Althea Vestrit

Phew, okay, lets try this again.

This was some hard shit.

Althea’s rape wasn’t the “worst” rape scene I’ve ever read and it probably won’t be the last, but what made the scene so difficult wasn’t any fucked up occupation with focusing on the physical but by focusing on the emotional and psychological confusion, terror, and exhaustion of the moment which worked to heighten the violation. I was thankful it wasn’t a long scene or I’d have to have skimmed it, and making it short was a smart choice because it gives strength to the idea that any form of unwanted physicality, no matter how briefly depicted (or in actuality), has massive repercussions. Basically it was a small mercy that we didn’t have to linger and wallow in the misery of the act to get across the wrongness of it and that’s all do to the writing.

I feel a bit bad for focusing on Althea’s rape so heavily when talking about her and when talking about Kennit because it’s kind of like “Wow, well, there is more to her than this” - but I also think that’s a thought better reserved for a real person more than a character.

I said my reaction to this kind of thing in stories a lot of the time isn’t real true anger, and I stand by that, but come on! Obviously I get a little angry at the same time! I invest in characters and I get mad at what is done to them in-story just as much as I get mad they had something done to them because that was a choice made for the story, ya know?

Like, sometimes the emotion is “UGH this character wouldn’t do that, why is this happening?” anger and other times it’s “UGH what is this character doing stop being a dummy (because I understand them as being capable of doing this dumb thing)” anger. And sometimes it’s both lol. I’m a mysterious woman!

Anyways, my point is that poor Althea gets a bit overshadowed by her rape but that isn’t to say I think her aftermath was handled poorly - on the contrary I was pleased with her outrage and paranoia and cunning and muddled swamp of complex reactions and fears and triumphs.

What I can’t decide is whether my still not totally endearing myself to Althea even after all she came through is the biggest fault of the series or it’s most crowned achievement if I’m completely honest.

Kyle Haven

Bye bitch.

Winthrow Vestrit

This fucking kid.

I’m almost devastated that Winthrow was so enamored with Kennit but like I get it? uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughghghghgh

I love Winthrow and Etta, they have a kind of relationship I enjoy, and I guess I’m happy they’re on the mend post-Kennit?

From Winthrow’s faulted, stunted, half-truth perspective of Kennit doubt over the man’s ability to rape makes some sense - but as the reader I felt I couldn’t allow Winthrow the grace of understanding his hesitation to believe his aunt.

So, Winthrow was tainted by Kennit and now writing this I’m a little shocked to find I’m a little bitter about it! LOL

My sweet precious priest boy where did you go?!

sigh

Its one of those things were I respect the choice and it makes total sense and thus speaks true of the character for Winthrow to doubt Althea and only realize it possible after talking to Etta - but as a reader and fan I wish Winthrow disowned Kennit immediately so I could continue to like him as I had all along.

sigh

I thought it hilarious Winthrow was scandalized by his sister and Reyn’s relationship though, lol, like step back and get some perspective you prude.

Keffria Vestrit

STILL THE FAVORITE!

I’m biased at this point though.

Locking down the home front by doing all she could, especially by letting go of things she didn’t want to - that’s some badass guts and fucking growth right there.

FUCK YEAH

Her struggle with how to rearrange her bedroom in tandem with her understanding of Kyle and her place in the world was brilliance.

Ronica Vestrit

My favorite spy.

I really wanted her to take Serilla under her wing and phew thankfully that kind of happened at the end - I was so worried about my girl Serilla, I’m glad her fate is tied with Ronica’s.

Malta

Oh boy oh boy what a treat!

Malta is my hero lol

She is a lot more like her mother than she thinks - her ability to navigate social standings, to become smaller or larger as needed, and to read others and bargain comes from mama not Kyle. I hope, I really hope, she knows that.

My little survivor.

Seriously though, Malta evolved so much faster than anyone else and proved to be much more adapt at it then anyone else. The political/social manipulation she grows to be an expert in was some of my favorite world building/scenes in the entire series.

I love her so much.

Reyn Khuprus

I love him too.

I’m so glad the Rain Wilder’s drop their veils and open up, I can’t wait to read more and see how that goes for them!

Reyn’s desperate search for Malta was some fun pining but the best bits was how the trip worked to better illustrate the workings of dragons and give some insight into the Elderlings and what’s in store for the future before we ever get to the bardering table.

Just a sweet, sweet dragon boy.

Vivacia

Good for her, I guess.

Pretty apathetic to be honest lol

I don’t know why Vivacia slipped away from me, especially since she is now in a good place, her own real entity! What’s wrong with me as a reader?!

Paragon

I’m so relieved but so upset omg

Etta

Oh baby girl I’m so so so sorry.

Etta is a really fascinating character and I really hope to see, or at least hear of her, again. She isn’t done, she has the least resolve and most open ended goodbye out of everyone and I want more of her and for her than that.

I really grew to appreciate Etta and if I was going to make a friend out of this cast of characters she and Keffria are my first picks; and I’d love if ever they got a chance to meet. They’d help each other so much.

I wonder if their parallels are intentional as the two most influential women in Winthrow’s life? Hmm. Probably not. Both are much more interesting as they are on their own without pitting them against Winthrow; especially Etta.

Satrap Cosgo

This fuck nugget gets no props for growing.

Kiki redeemed herself by like a thousand and I felt for her in the end but Cosgo can suck an egg.

Although there is a part of me that enjoyed his detached and surly attitude towards everything.

#liveship traders #multiplayer notepad #fandom talks #realm of the elderlings #year of book

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treeyo · 5 years

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Harvesting yields is one of the obvious goals of Permaculture and the summer season is indeed bountiful. Rhythms change from spring, foods diversify, and the heat intensifies. Time is an interesting dynamic with day

Home: Treasure Lake

length long but shortening day after day after the summer solstice. With time, the buildup of a permaculture site is about both short term bursts and waiting long term. I wish I could say my plums are ripening but they are still too young to produce. However the forest remains abundant with wild foods and the lake continues with its never ending beauty. Summer, it is a season of enduring heat, managing systems, and yeah picking food. The extreme heat of this region is obvious again this year with the oddity of lack of rain after a spring inundation. Finally a reprieve yesterday through some good rain. Photosynthesis again rages as everything springs back to life. And I get the chance to develop the tinystead with others as evolution of living at the lake continues as well.

Education

Summer is also about travel, people coming together here and there, and having fun. Chances to teach come from this cultural trend. I got to do exactly this at Whippoorwill festival in the Red River Gorge area of Kentucky. After learning from others like Bill’s body hacking (kneepainguru.com) and Tim Hnesley’s mushroom mastery in the field, I got my time to teach as well. Active forest enhancement, a movement I am pioneering that combines so many fields including permaculture, agroforestry, syntropic farming, and my degree in fish and wildlife management. It’s about seeing the forest as another important part of the ecosystem that needs intervention to obtain even more yields for ourselves and the other players of the ecosystem. I had a very engaged group in a sweltering day walking through the forest and learning tips and tricks from my 20 years of experience doing this. I look forward to further launching this movement. I also got a chance to teach about the interesting tips for a tree planting jar which has been able to plant over a 1000 dollars worth of trees in our local community and Treasure Lake where I live. In essence we need to drive home investment in tree planting. Even if you have no land, how can you give back to the earth for this vital resource and noble act? I encourage you to do so. Skip going shopping or the bar one night, unless your bar is like mine, where the tips for the night go directly to tree planting. In the end Whippoorwill was not just about teaching but gathering with community, old friends and new connections.

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Tip money from Treasure Lake collected for tree planting rather than income, a community fund

Tim Hensley of Berea, KY schooling us on mushroom ID

My next teaching opportunity is right around the corner with me and Abby coming together once again. Its almost paw paw season and I am stoked to continue to educate people about this plant as it exemplifies my work of active forest enhancement. My focus will be on the propagation side of it all this time. Lets see what we make with the harvest this year as well!

https://treeyopermaculture.com/permaculture-design-courses-pdc/herbal-walk-and-permaculture-planting-with-abby-and-doug/

Paw Paw fruit

Harvest and Foraging

I have planted countless gardens over the years and one of the staples in them is tomato plants. Everyone loves them, they are challenging but abundant, and aromatic. You have to trellis them, baby them, and voila, delicious veg. However I don’t eat tomatoes raw, so all these gardens I have barely enjoyed them. This year I planted amish paste tomatoes as my Italian blood asks for this kind of food everyonce in awhile. So I have been getting nice yields from my plants in the guilds of two newly planted Mt Ash trees out in front of the bar. Mixing perennials with annuals, I love doing it and don’t forget that part of food forest management. Plug some annuals in before the perennials fill out and obtain a yield. Soon I will share my recipe for pasta sauce! Also in the forest when we have had our little bit of rain the oysters growing on fallen hickory and chicken of the woods on well rotted oak have flushed. I need to go check again now that it finally rained again! Definitely after whippoorwill andTim’s session i am seeing even more. It’s also one of the reason I love working with Abby because she is always teaching me something new as I adjust back to this ecosystem. Another harvest we obtained based off of our handwork and ecosystem management was honey. Well its mainly the bees hardwork but we took a tiny bit, a fraction of a normal harvest as well still encourage bees at this site. It’s been a challenge with how we have managed this hive but as I get into it more, well more yield comes.

Chicken of the Woods Primordia

Chicken of the woods maturing

Amish Paste Tomatoes

Daniel, My neighbor down the road, holding a bit of his Egyptian Walking Onion Harvest dried at the lake

honey from our hive

oyster flush on pignut hickory

TinyStead Development

I still am moving into the tiny house and developing its surrounding area. I need to go slow with this, again tiny steps as i said in my last update blog. But me and my friend, carpentry master, Tom, hammered out a deck on the northside of the tiny house. Two years ago we took apart a deck and built picnic tables for the campgrounds at the lake with the bigger wood. The deck planking we still had and I got a chance to salvage more deck wood from a project my friend Bryan was working on. So then me and Tom combined this into an oddly shape deck maximizes all the reused materials. Ok me and Tom occasionally screamed and yelled at each other, but we are like that. In the end it was fun and I’ am grateful for Tom’s effort to build this with me. Community continues to be vital in this project and I am grateful for all who put in effort to evolve this place.

Tom being Tom

deck construction

Before deck

Deck after

Urban Permaculture

Occasionally side gigs pop up for me here and there like puffball mushrooms in a field. I have been heavily vested in the Cincinnati Permaculture Insittutes edible Nursery both in the city of Cincinnati and here at the lake. Its one way in which I practice urban permaculture as our nursery helps to fuel edible plantings. I enjoy it. Through that, I have gotten hooked up with a landscaping job of furthering bringing life and functionality to an urban garden that has had some issues with continuity. Its definitely a problem in designs that one must solve. Anyway i have been just cracking on when i can, clearing the jungle overgrowth and mulching the existing fruit trees that have been growing. The overgrowth has not been welcome by the community of Lincoln Heights where the garden is located. Its a African American community, set up in the 1800’s, that really could use a space like this to help with food insecurity and connection with nature. So i chop and drop vegetation and sheet mulch as i slowly bring the jungle under control for the purpose of making the space more usable. Its been a fun job, not easy at all, but indeed when i leave the site i look back and say, wow, that looks much better than it did before.

Beginnings of sheet mulch

freshly mowed with next layer of sheet mulch of grass clippings on top of previously mulched fruit trees

Thick mulching

Fruit trees and gardens

And with that phrase what if humanity could do that? What if our time on earth granted us the opportunity to co create with nature and others to beautify this planet. In the face of so much social turmoil, just as Rob Hopkins, predicted in his book Transition Towns, well it really comes down to what will be your legacy? You cant control humanity but you can control your actions and being an influencer of positive change.

Treasure Lake

Mussel shell eroding

Monarch, will the world still see this in 50 years

the lake

Bee Balm

Sunset boat rides

the campsite we call florida, a favorite spot on the land for me

lake

paw paw

Summer Yields Much: TreeYo Project Update Blog Harvesting yields is one of the obvious goals of Permaculture and the summer season is indeed bountiful.

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