#comic: facets - four stones

[amethyst-halo]

wuh oh! secret's out!

[marthammasters]

Yet it’s the moment-to-moment, shot-to-shot texture of the movie that transforms a two-dimensional story into a four-dimensional sensory X-ray. The tingly audacity of ‘Natural Born Killers,’ and the addictive pleasure of watching it, begins with the perception that Mickey and Mallory experience not just their infamy but every moment of their lives as pop culture. Their lives are poured through the images they carry around in their heads. The two of them enact a heightened version of a world in which identity is increasingly becoming a murky, bundled fusion of true life and media fantasy. It works something like this: You are what you watch, which is what you want to be, which is what you think you are, which is what you really can be (yes, you can!), as long as you…believe.

What form does this kind of belief take? It’s a word that applies, in equal measure, to the fan-geek hordes at Comic-Con; to the gun geeks who imagine themselves part of a larger “militia”; to the gamers and the dark-web conspiracy junkies; to the people who think that Donald Trump was qualified to be president because he pretended to be an imperious executive on TV. It applies to anyone who experiences the news as the world’s greatest reality show, or to the way that social media is called social media because it’s about people treating every facet of their lives as “media” — as a verité performance. Made just before the rise of the Internet, “Natural Born Killers” captured, and predicted, a society that turns reality itself into a nonstop channel surf, a simulacrum of the life we’re living. One of the film’s most brilliant sequences is a dystopian sitcom, with a vile fulminating Rodney Dangerfield, that depicts Mallory’s hellish home. It’s a dysfunctional nightmare reduced to TV, which is what allows Mallory to murder her way out of it.

— Owen Gleiberman, Twenty-Five Years Later, Oliver Stone’s ‘Natural Born Killers’ Is, More than Ever, the Spectacle of Our Time

[onpaperintofilm]

Oliver Stone’s ‘Natural Born Killers’ Is, More than Ever, the Spectacle of Our Time                

Yet it has never gained true respectability.

Variety

                                                                           |                            

                               Owen Gleiberman

                                      “ Works of art that were once radical tend to find their cozy place in the cultural ecosystem. It’s almost funny to think that an audience ever booed “The Rite of Spring,” or that the Sex Pistols shocked people to their souls, or that museum patrons once stood in front of Jackson Pollock’s splatter paintings or Warhol’s soup cans and said, “But is it art?” In 1971, “A Clockwork Orange” was a scandal, but it quickly came to be thought of as a Kubrick classic.    

           Yet “Natural Born Killers,” a brazenly radical movie when it was first released, on August 26, 1994, has never lost its sting of audacity. It’s still dangerous, crazy-sick, luridly hypnotic, ripped from the id, and visionary. I loved the movie from the moment I saw it. It haunted me for weeks afterward, and over the next few years I saw it over and over again (probably 40 times), obsessed with the experience of it, the terrible lurching beauty of it, the spellbinding truth of it. It’s a film that has never left my system.    

           I’ve met a number of people who feel the way I do about “Natural Born Killers,” but I’ve also run across a great many people who don’t. The reaction has always been split between those I would call “Natural Born Killers” believers (they included, at the time, such influential critics as Roger Ebert and Stanley Kauffmann) and those who thumb their noses at what they consider to be an over-the-top spectacle of Oliver Stone “indulgence.” At the time of its release, it was said that the film was bombastic, gonzo for its own sake, pretentious as hell, and — of course ­— too violent. Too flippantly violent. In a way, “Natural Born Killers” was the “Moulin Rouge!” of shotgun-lovers-on-the-lam thrillers. Either you got onto its stylized high wire, its deliberate pornography of operatic overkill, or you thought it was trash.    

           The divide has never been resolved, and the movie has never gained true respectability. Which I think is a good thing. Some works of art need to remain outside the official system of canonical reverence. But if you go back and watch “Natural Born Killers” today, long after all the ’90s-version-of-film-Twitter chatter about it has faded, what you’ll see (or, at least, what I hope you’ll see) is that the movie summons a unique power that descends from the grandeur of its theme. Far more than, say, “The Matrix,” “Natural Born Killers” was the movie that glimpsed the looking glass we were passing through, the new psycho-metaphysical space we were living inside — the roller-coaster of images and advertisements, of entertainment and illusion, of demons that come up through fantasy and morph into daydreams, of vicarious violence that bleeds into real violence.    

           I’ve always found “Natural Born Killers” a nearly impossible movie to nail down in writing (it’s like trying to capture what music sounds like). Sure, it’s easy to summarize the tale of Mickey Knox (Woody Harrelson), a sloe-eyed drawling psycho in a blond ponytail, and his ragingly damaged bad-apple lover, Mallory (Juliette Lewis), the two of whom go on a killing spree that turns them into celebrities, like Bonnie and Clyde for the age of TMZ.    

           Yet it’s the moment-to-moment, shot-to-shot texture of the movie that transforms a two-dimensional story into a four-dimensional sensory X-ray. I took my best shot at writing about it in my 2016 memoir, “Movie Freak,” in which I said:    

“The tingly audacity of ‘Natural Born Killers,’ and the addictive pleasure of watching it, begins with the perception that Mickey and Mallory experience not just their infamy but every moment of their lives as pop culture. Their lives are poured through the images they carry around in their heads. The two of them enact a heightened version of a world in which identity is increasingly becoming a murky, bundled fusion of true life and media fantasy. It works something like this: You are what you watch, which is what you want to be, which is what you think you are, which is what you really can be (yes, you can!), as long as you…believe.”

           What form does this kind of belief take? It’s a word that applies, in equal measure, to the fan-geek hordes at Comic-Con; to the gun geeks who imagine themselves part of a larger “militia”; to the gamers and the dark-web conspiracy junkies; to the people who think that Donald Trump was qualified to be president because he pretended to be an imperious executive on TV. It applies to anyone who experiences the news as the world’s greatest reality show, or to the way that social media is called social media because it’s about people treating every facet of their lives as “media” — as a verité performance. Made just before the rise of the Internet, “Natural Born Killers” captured, and predicted, a society that turns reality itself into a nonstop channel surf, a simulacrum of the life we’re living. One of the film’s most brilliant sequences is a dystopian sitcom, with a vile fulminating Rodney Dangerfield, that depicts Mallory’s hellish home. It’s a dysfunctional nightmare reduced to TV, which is what allows Mallory to murder her way out of it.    

           “Natural Born Killers” took off from a script by Quentin Tarantino that got drastically rewritten (Tarantino received a story credit), though it provided the basic spine of the film’s evil-hipsters-on-the-run structure and kicky satirical ultraviolence. But there’s a reason that Tarantino didn’t like the finished film; it’s not, in the end, his sensibility. His vision is suffused with irony, whereas Oliver Stone directs “Natural Born Killers” as if he were making a documentary about a homicidal acid trip.    

           The patchwork of film stocks that Stone employs (black-and-white, glaring color, 8mm, grainy video) turns the movie into a volcanic multimedia dream-poem. And it’s no coincidence that those clashing visual textures are an elaboration of the style that Stone invented for “JFK,” a drama about political reality (the assassination of a president) that gets sucked into the vortex of media reality (the now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t mesmerization of the Zapruder film). “Natural Born Killers” pushes that dynamic several steps further, as Mickey and Mallory’s murder spree becomes a hall of mirrors that’s being televised inside their own heads. In 1967, the tagline for “Bonnie and Clyde” was “They’re young. They’re in love. And they kill people.” The tagline for “Natural Born Killers” should have been: “They kill people. So they’ll have something to watch.”    

           “Natural Born Killers” captures how our parasitical relationship to pop culture can magnify the cycle of violence. Yet that theme may be more dangerous now than it was in 1994. As a liberal who’s a staunch advocate of every gun-control measure conceivable, and would never think to “blame” a mass shooting on a piece of entertainment, I am nevertheless haunted by the possibility that half a century’s worth of insanely violent pop culture has had a collective numbing effect. In “Natural Born Killers,” a psychiatrist, played with diligent dryness by the comedian Steven Wright, gets interviewed on television about Mickey and Mallory, and his analysis is as follows: “Mickey and Mallory know the difference between right and wrong. They just don’t give a damn.”    

           That, to me, is one of the most resonant lines in all of movies, because what it’s describing now sounds chillingly close to too many of us. Sure, we all say that we care. But if you look at the actions, the judgments, the policies supported by millions of Americans, it seems increasingly clear that we’re turning into a society of people who know the difference between right and wrong, but just don’t give a damn.    

           Or maybe that’s too dark a thing to say. But the beauty, and brilliance, of “Natural Born Killers,” which draws on and radicalizes a tradition of movies (“Bonnie and Clyde,” “Badlands,” “Taxi Driver”) that deposit the audience directly into the souls of sociopaths, is that the film dares to ask us to ask ourselves what we’re made of. To ask whether we’ve removed life from reality by turning it into a spectacle of nonstop self-projection. To ask whether we’re now watching ourselves to death. “   

-- I loved it when I saw it. I saw it once. It scared me. It was too real and too predictive, too foretelling. But brilliant. Scary brilliant. To see the parody of the sitcom is to live your present life, your past life, and realize a subtle and not so subtle horror coursing through our filtered vision every day.

[a-mellowtea]

RWBY Issue #1: An Elegy For Continuity

I’ve never been one for comic books. I think I read a couple when I was younger. I seem to recall Spiderman. I did pick up the Bone series at one point and fell in love with it. But beyond that, they never appealed to me. Now that I’m older, however, and finding more of an appreciation for design and storytelling alike, I really want to go back and just smother younger me in superhero and fantasy comics to make up for what I missed.

When I heard that RWBY was making a venture into the comics scene thanks to DC, I honestly got excited. It’s a perfect medium to tell stories that canon may not have been able to cover, and with the promised content being set in the area in-universe -- between Volumes 3 and 4 -- we have the least specific information about, there was no conceivable reason not to be at least interested.

RWBY #1 dropped on August 28th, 2019 under the subtitle “Prelude: The Elegy”. It’s narrated by Ruby Rose, one of the series’ titular characters and arguable ‘main’ protagonist out of the four, and covers in very brief form the Creatures of Grimm, the Huntsmen Academies, the fellow members -- Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna and Weiss Schnee -- of RWBY, the Color Naming Convention/Rule, Dust, Semblances and the Fall of Beacon. It ends with the finale of Volume 3, and Ruby uncertain if they’ll be able to carry on.

The quality of the artwork and layout varies, but overall Mirka Andolfo and Arif Prianto do capture the look and feel of the characters (although, they can’t seem to decide whether Weiss is left-handed or not). Whether or not some of it seems off is an entirely subjective matter. Personally, while I find some panels to be absolutely striking (such as Tai, Yang and Ruby at Summer’s grave, the Volume 1-3 era combat panels, the initial Battle of Beacon Academy page, and the final panel), I also find others to be a bit... lacking (the Volume 4 design splash page especially).

An article by CBR appropriately labeled it an adaptation at a “breakneck pace”, which is honestly an understatement. The elements I mentioned get perhaps a page each, touched on in a manner I can in all seriousness relate to skipping a stone across a pond. Being a fan of the series, for me, that is perfectly fine; I already have as much of a grasp on things like Aura and Dust and the combat Academies as one who has been with the show since the Volume 2/3 hiatus could. On top of that, with Ruby as our narrator and speaking from in-universe, she may not see the need to go into incredible detail. However, someone just delving into RWBY with this as a primer or part of their proper introduction to Volumes 1 or 2 would in all likelihood be left winded by everything that zooms by with so little explanation. These elements are essential to the story and the world of Remnant. They, along with certain key events such as the Battle of Beacon, are the building blocks of the series.

On that front, it certainly doesn’t help anything that canon is shakily incorporated or, at points, firmly and summarily disregarded. See, the issue with RWBY #1 doesn’t lie in the art style or storytelling. Rather, it is with the connective tissue between the comic and its source material.

Most of these instances aren’t egregious oversights but are worth mentioning regardless. For instance, there is a panel in which Penny is shown wearing Beacon’s uniform, though she is from Atlas and was never shown wearing any of the Academy’s uniforms.

In the panel talking about Semblances, Weiss’ Semblance is described as being able to “summon any Grimm she’s slain”. While true, that is a facet of her Semblance, not her power itself. Weiss’ Semblance is Glyphs. She also never summoned before the Battle of Beacon, making the page of her summoning a Grimm circa that time also inaccurate.

In yet another, Ruby mentions rumors about the Maidens and magic. However, the only way she could have known about the Four Maidens before Qrow telling her and RNJR in Volume 4 Chapter 8 was through the fairy tale known as the “Story of the Seasons”. Only the Ozluminati (Ozpin, Qrow, Glynda and James) and Pyrrha knew in full about the truth surrounding the four Maidens. As this is being narrated at the end of Volume 3 (the “now”, as stated in the penultimate panel), Jaune also only knew that Cinder had acquired some sort of power; nothing of magic or the Maidens.

The worst of these errors come at the end of the comic, and are most plainly wrong. Ruby is shown having come back to Patch on foot, whereas she was most certainly entirely unconscious when she was brought back to Patch by Qrow. It is also implied that Ruby returned to help Tai take care of Yang; their conditions of consciousness somewhat perplexingly reversed from canon. 

Furthermore, though it is clearly stated and shown that Jacques was the one to take Weiss home after the events at Beacon, Willow also appears to be present alongside an AK-200.*

And finally, Taiyang is shown in the aforementioned penultimate panel waving goodbye to RNJR as they depart for Mistral.  The issues of this particular change are further-reaching than most of the others; Ruby leaving without a word to her father and sister other than a letter was brought up several times in Volume 4, and was part of what made Yang and Ruby’s reunion in Volume 5 such a good moment.

Some things are also oddly worded (and that’s without mentioning the run-on sentences), leading to unnecessary confusion. For example, at one point, Ruby explains that “Atlas, Vale, Vacuo and Mistral -- every Kingdom in Remnant has their own way of dealing with Grimm. But only the Kingdom of Vale has Beacon, the legendary Academy where my mother and father went to become Huntsmen”. This makes it sound like Beacon is the only Huntsmen Academy in Remnant, and the other Kingdoms have completely separate ways of dealing with the Grimm. I doubt that was the authorial intent; it could be explained away rather easily as Ruby simply stating that none of the other Academies are as good; ie, there is only one Beacon.

There is also another rather odd panel following the aforementioned, in which a young Ruby and Yang stand with Taiyang, their father, and Summer Rose, Ruby’s biological mother. While this family shot is very nice and certainly pulls on a fan’s heartstrings, the composition is strange. If this is meant to be an in-canon moment, rather than a symbolic one, then Ruby and Yang’s ages at the time of Summer’s death are thrown into question yet again. As stated by Yang in Volume 5 Chapter 8, “My mom left me. Ruby’s mom left too. Dad was always busy with school, and Ruby couldn’t even talk yet”. This shot, with Ruby and Yang looking closer to 6 and 8 respectively, contradicts that.

That’s not to say that these errors, numerous as they are, completely ruin the experience of reading the comic. Paired with Mirka Andolfo’s artwork, RWBY #1 presents a decent introduction to RWBY until the end of Volume 3, heading into the timeskip territory. However, being a recap of elements and events already covered in the show, it is sorely lacking and has absolutely no excuse to be. I saw someone mention that it feels like the writer, Marguerite Bennett, skimmed the show’s Wiki or otherwise did the least amount of research possible on the series before writing. I wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment.

At the end of the day, RWBY #1 “Prologue: The Elegy” is a good attempt at summarizing the most basic and key material of Volumes 1-3, but ultimately fails, falls flat and devolves into a mess of inconsistencies, errors and nonsensical changes that fans should not consider being canon whether it has been stated to be in the category of “canon-until-it’s-not” or not.

I do hope they find their footing in the second issue of RWBY, as perhaps original content will provide better space for the story to flow largely unhindered by canonical information.

*Amendment: I originally stated that it was Winter in this panel. I’ve been since informed that that is incorrect. Apologies for the mistake!

[classicmarvelera]

Leading the Surge: Tom DeFalco era

The year was 1987 when Tom DeFalco was announced as the new Editor-in-Chief of Marvel Comics after the sudden termination of Jim Shooter from the same post 

DeFalco, a veteran writer with Marvel at the time, was a story-teller whose work for Spider-Man, Thor, FF and The Thing was gaining traction among fans. According to the late Mark Gruenwald, (unlike his predecessor) he didn’t have a vision of his own for Marvel which made him open to other peoples’ ideas about the company’s core products i.e. superheroes 

DeFalco accommodated others’ visions while ensuring that quality content was delivered as the final outcome with the story or the arc reaching a resolution as Shooter had always insisted. Compared to Tom, Shooter was more on the Management side of Comic Books Publishing business. The latter ensured that books reached the market on time, editorial guidelines were being adhered to by staff, Creator rights (with respect to their creations) were honored and (where possible) a collaboration be done to increase company’s profitability (Secret Wars with Mattel, G.I.Joe and Transformers with Hasbro) but when it came to DeFalco, he made way for new talent like Jim Lee, Todd McFarlane, Erik Larsen, Rob Liefeld and Marc Silvestri to name a few. This new talent’s work proved to be an instant hit among readers so much so that a title was able to establish a world record in 1991, proving more successful than McFarlane’s Spider-Man: Torment that was released a year before 

These new artists and writers were paired with established legends and the result was one great success after another. New characters were introduced whose popularity hasn’t waned to this day: 

Venom

Darkhawk

The New FF (Joe Fixit Hulk, Spider-Man, Wolverine and Ghost Rider)

Carnage

Deadpool

Domino

Thunderstrike

Anniversaries:

An important juncture in Marvel’s history were the anniversaries of its flagship characters. The company was 50 years old by 1989 but a there were at least two generations of readers who had grown up with characters from the Golden and Silver ages. A lot of work was produced and anniversaries offered a tremendous opportunity to Marvel Comics to celebrate their superheroes but also chart future editorial strategy with respect to them 

During Tom’s tenure, Captain America was 50 years old while Iron Man, Fantastic Four, Hulk, Spider-Man celebrated their 30th Anniversaries but the grandest of celebrations were reserved for X-Men and Avengers that saw title cross-overs, lots of gimmick covers with some of the best stories ever told and related limited series

But the most successful of anniversary celebration at the time was of X-Men. With the amount of special editions released (limited series and one shots), the Fatal Attractions cross-over was the one that stood out. Each issue was embossed with a holographic card and it served as the conclusion to Chris Claremont and Jim Lee’s Mutant Genesis saga 

Merchandizing: 

As a franchise, the X-Men’s popularity reached the peak with a total number of seven X-Family titles being published on a monthly basis as on-going series but the least talked about feature of DeFalco’s tenure is the level of merchandizing which saw Marvel action figures by ToyBiz and launch of Marvel Universe & X-Men Trading Cards  

The late 80s was a booming time for Video Gaming as the shift was occuring from Arcade gaming to gaming consoles which can be played at home and Marvel at the time, came out with video games that were connected with much of their popular comic book storylines. These games were launched for NES, SNES, Gameboy and SEGA Genesis as these consoles dominated the scene back then but what is more surprising is the diverse range of games that were out there from Marvel. Punisher had a video game and so did Wolverine as well as Silver Surfer besides the flagships like X-Men, Avengers and Spider-Man 

As if this wasn’t enough, Marvel Comics were now being widely distributed and sold in far away markets such as the Middle East and Asia. It wouldn’t be wrong to say that the seeds for Marvel becoming one of the most preferred brands in the world were planted during Tom’s era. This was a time when there was no Cinematic Universe nor was there a thing called the internet 

The DeFalco Legacy:

Looking back at the DeFalco era, one cannot find a time period which is a close equal to this one. Tom’s scorecard out of all the Editor’s that preceded him is most balanced: His leadership & advisory influenced positive outcomes for Marvel comics on all fronts. It wouldn’t be an over-statement to say that the DeFalco Era in Marvel Comics history remains the most successful...overall. Maybe the reason behind it was his knowledge about the art of story-telling and how it could resonate with the readers on various levels to the extent that they would be willing to pay the extra buck for merchandize besides the comics. His stamp on Marvel’s present can be seen on Amazon, Facebook Groups, Instagram accounts that offer comics, tpbs and merchandize that was produced during his era

If Stan Lee era is a yardstick for Creative Story Telling or Content Creation that resonates with readership and Jim Shooter’s era is the yardstick for Best Managerial Practice in Comic Book publishing business then Tom DeFalco’s era is the yardstick for overall success (incl. huge financials) 

End Note:   

There are 3 main facets of Tom DeFalco’s era: 

If you are a Spider-Man fan, his stories are at par with greats like Stan Lee, Roger Stern, Gerry Conway etc.

As an Editor, he led the process of building up on the successes of Shooter era to the extent that Marvel was able to go Public (due to successful merchandizing and increased comic book sales) 

Again as an Editor, his leadership resulted in the following great content from Marvel: 

Kraven’s Last Hunt (Spider-Man)

X-Men: Fall of the Mutants 

Iron Man: Armor Wars 

Incredible Hulk: Beyond Redemption

Launch of Excalibur, Wolverine and Punisher: War Journal ongoing series

X-Men: Brood Saga 

Avengers: Futures Imperfect 

X-Men: Inferno

Joe Fixit Hulk & Patch Logan cross-over

Wolverine: The Gehenna Stone Affair 

Captain America vs US Agent 

Doctor Strange & Doctor Doom: Triumph and Torment 

Avengers West Coast: Vision Quest 

Atlantis Attacks (multi-title cross-over) 

Acts of Vengeance (multi-title cross-over) 

Iron Man: Legacy of Doom

Silver Surfer: Thanos Quest 

The New Fantastic Four

The Punisher-Wolverine: African Saga

X-Tinction Agenda

Infinity Gauntlet 

X-Men: Mutant Genesis

End of New Mutants and launch of X-Factor and X-Force ongoing series

Smart Hulk 

Marvel Comics Presents Wolverine: Weapon X 

Iron Man: War Machine 

X-Cutioner’s Song 

Infinity War 

Captain America: Man and Wolf 

Hulk: Future Imperfect 

Spider-Man: Maximum Carnage 

Cable: Fathers and Sons

Fatal Attractions (X-titles cross-over/X-Men 30th Anniversary) 

Sabretooth, Gambit and Deadpool limited series 

Spider-Man 2099

Daredevil: The Man without Fear

Phalanx Covenant (X-titles cross-over)

MARVELS 

Hulk: Troyjan War 

[back-and-totheleft]

Our parasitical relationship to pop

I’ve always found “Natural Born Killers” a nearly impossible movie to nail down in writing (it’s like trying to capture what music sounds like). Sure, it’s easy to summarize the tale of Mickey Knox (Woody Harrelson), a sloe-eyed drawling psycho in a blond ponytail, and his ragingly damaged bad-apple lover, Mallory (Juliette Lewis), the two of whom go on a killing spree that turns them into celebrities, like Bonnie and Clyde for the age of TMZ.

Yet it’s the moment-to-moment, shot-to-shot texture of the movie that transforms a two-dimensional story into a four-dimensional sensory X-ray. I took my best shot at writing about it in my 2016 memoir, “Movie Freak,” in which I said:

“The tingly audacity of ‘Natural Born Killers,’ and the addictive pleasure of watching it, begins with the perception that Mickey and Mallory experience not just their infamy but every moment of their lives as pop culture. Their lives are poured through the images they carry around in their heads. The two of them enact a heightened version of a world in which identity is increasingly becoming a murky, bundled fusion of true life and media fantasy. It works something like this: You are what you watch, which is what you want to be, which is what you think you are, which is what you really can be (yes, you can!), as long as you…believe.”

What form does this kind of belief take? It’s a word that applies, in equal measure, to the fan-geek hordes at Comic-Con; to the gun geeks who imagine themselves part of a larger “militia”; to the gamers and the dark-web conspiracy junkies; to the people who think that Donald Trump was qualified to be president because he pretended to be an imperious executive on TV. It applies to anyone who experiences the news as the world’s greatest reality show, or to the way that social media is called social media because it’s about people treating every facet of their lives as “media” —  as a verité performance. Made just before the rise of the Internet, “Natural Born Killers” captured, and predicted, a society that turns reality itself into a nonstop channel surf, a simulacrum of the life we’re living. One of the film’s most brilliant sequences is a dystopian sitcom, with a vile fulminating Rodney Dangerfield, that depicts Mallory’s hellish home. It’s a dysfunctional nightmare reduced to TV, which is what allows Mallory to murder her way out of it.

“Natural Born Killers” took off from a script by Quentin Tarantino that got drastically rewritten (Tarantino received a story credit), though it provided the basic spine of the film’s evil-hipsters-on-the-run structure and kicky satirical ultraviolence. But there’s a reason that Tarantino didn’t like the finished film; it’s not, in the end, his sensibility. His vision is suffused with irony, whereas Oliver Stone directs “Natural Born Killers” as if he were making a documentary about a homicidal acid trip.

The patchwork of film stocks that Stone employs (black-and-white, glaring color, 8mm, grainy video) turns the movie into a volcanic multimedia dream-poem. And it’s no coincidence that those clashing visual textures are an elaboration of the style that Stone invented for “JFK,” a drama about political reality (the assassination of a president) that gets sucked into the vortex of media reality (the now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t mesmerization of the Zapruder film). “Natural Born Killers” pushes that dynamic several steps further, as Mickey and Mallory’s murder spree becomes a hall of mirrors that’s being televised inside their own heads. In 1967, the tagline for “Bonnie and Clyde” was “They’re young. They’re in love. And they kill people.” The tagline for “Natural Born Killers” should have been: “They kill people. So they’ll have something to watch.”

“Natural Born Killers” captures how our parasitical relationship to pop culture can magnify the cycle of violence. Yet that theme may be more dangerous now than it was in 1994. As a liberal who’s a staunch advocate of every gun-control measure conceivable, and would never think to “blame” a mass shooting on a piece of entertainment, I am nevertheless haunted by the possibility that half a century’s worth of insanely violent pop culture has had a collective numbing effect. In “Natural Born Killers,” a psychiatrist, played with diligent dryness by the comedian Steven Wright, gets interviewed on television about Mickey and Mallory, and his analysis is as follows: “Mickey and Mallory know the difference between right and wrong. They just don’t give a damn.”

That, to me, is one of the most resonant lines in all of movies, because what it’s describing now sounds chillingly close to too many of us. Sure, we all say that we care. But if you look at the actions, the judgments, the policies supported by millions of Americans, it seems increasingly clear that we’re turning into a society of people who know the difference between right and wrong, but just don’t give a damn.

Or maybe that’s too dark a thing to say. But the beauty, and brilliance, of “Natural Born Killers,” which draws on and radicalizes a tradition of movies (“Bonnie and Clyde,” “Badlands,” “Taxi Driver”) that deposit the audience directly into the souls of sociopaths, is that the film dares to ask us to ask ourselves what we’re made of. To ask whether we’ve removed life from reality by turning it into a spectacle of nonstop self-projection. To ask whether we’re now watching ourselves to death.

-Owen Gleiberman, “Twenty-Five Years Later, Oliver Stone’s ‘Natural Born Killers’ Is, More than Ever, the Spectacle of Our Time,” Variety, Aug 25 2019 [x]

[gerendumtelegnostic]

[Incoming Storm]

    Violet streaks of electricity bloomed across the sky in crisp strikes and rolling thunder, clouds sounding much less like fronts of air and water and more like the rumbles of splitting rock and concussive landslide. Rain was coming down in sheets, cold and heavy and fast. The dogs had known the storm was coming before the townsfolk had. They’d been anxious and listless all day, even before the dark and loamy clouds moved in and the air felt crisp and thin. Howl hadn’t been lucky enough to close up shop before the rain hit, though that didn’t bother them all that much. As they moved back out to the farmhouse, they passed by their neighboring humans. It was funny, or at least mildly interesting, how quickly Humans scattered during the rain when they were mostly water themselves. Rain didn’t erode humans, it eroded stones like Howl (who comparatively didn’t mind the wet all that much).

    Underneath the growling sky, the only other sound was the wet plaps of Howl’s shoes against the steadily flooding grass. The summer had been hot, even the day had been temperate and dry, so the ground was useless in absorbing the sudden storm. The only guidance back Home was the mix of muscle memory and the faint glowing of the porch light in the distance. Or, there should have been a faint glowing of a porch light. There was a hint of it, but even from this far out Howl could tell that there was something obstructing it, it wasn’t just burnt out or off. The hairs on the back of their neck stood on end and they moved a bit faster, dropping to all fours and taking new form in a momentary shift of white light that was all but drowned out by the heavy rain and the perfectly-timed flash of violet lightning.

Nimble feet rushed the mottled Gem through the long, wet, lapping grass towards their house, just out of sight and pawfalls hidden under the loud hiss of rain. Whatever the figure was, it was looming in front of the door and obscuring the light from inside. Once again, Howl bristled, this time close enough for a low growl to join the bassy grind of storm cloud against storm cloud. They’d nearly made it the entire way to their porch when--

      “--Howl!”

The familiar lilt of tone immediately melts the white Gem and after a stunned moment, they shift back to something more Gem-like. Another crack of lightning confirms their assumption, and another round of loud, wet footslaps rushes them up the stairs and flinging towards the Fusion. They collide, Garnet taking most of the brunt of the force and dispelling it in a spin and an embrace. She doesn’t care that Howl is rain-soaked. Neither does Howl.

    “Garnet!” They reply, just as enthusiastic (if not more so) than their impromptu guest. When the spin stops, Howl tightens their embrace and buries their rain-wet face into the top of Garnet’s chest. Garnet buries her lips and chin into the crown of Howl’s head. Neither of them speak again for a bit. They let the thundering of the storm and the closeness of their embrace speak for them. It’s time soon enough, though, to part, and Garnet begins to release just as Howl was starting to wane. She sets them down and re-adjusts her new, three-pointed shades. She’s smiling so wide it looked almost Comical. Howl is trying their best not to start crying.

“It’s been--”

“So long, I know. I wanted to come sooner. Ah’m sorry. So much’s happened, I don’t even know where to begin.” Garnet interrupts, but it doesn’t feel rude. It feels excited. It feels familiar.

“Well, coming inside out of the rain might be a good place to start.” There’s an awkward smile on Howl’s lips, crooked and small but genuine. They’re thankful that their wet hair is across their face. They’re not sure if there are tears or not as they move past Garnet politely and unlock their front door.

“I suppose that’s true. Very wise, Howl.” Garnet replies with a laugh on her voice. It’s warm, starkly so in contrast to the cool of the thunderstorm.

    Once inside, Howl was greeted by their several dogs. It had just been puppy season, late summer when the strays would have their litters and nobody would be around to claim them. It was just until they were old enough to be adopted out, Howl told themselves at the start. Now they weren’t so sure. Garnet ducked through the doorway behind them, gently turned the handle as she shut it, and then briefly crossed her wrists in front of herself. When she separated them, her Gems let off a soft glow which spread to the rest of her body, and in a flash the water that had been on her steamed and dried from the heat of her hard-light. Howl thought it was a neat trick they’d have to ask her about in the future, but now wasn’t the time.

“Please, get comfortable. You can stay for a bit, right?” They asks as they gently usher their several hounds towards their beds. As they moved through the room, they flipped on some of the lights though kept the ambiance dim and warm.

“Jus’ for a bit. Jus’ long enough.”

“...good. Is it alright if I make some tea?”

“Sure. Be careful, though.” Garnet warns as she moves into the living room and takes a seat on the edge of the sofa. Howl freezes in place.

“...why?”

“There’s still water in the kettle from las’ night. Take care not to tip it too much when you move it.”

    Howl smiles.

               “Alright. Thanks.”

   “So... she’s... NICE now?” Howl asks, only holding their cup of tea and not sipping it. Garnet, on the other hand, in hospitable solidarity takes a long sip of her own Earl Grey between words.

“Well... not yet, but she’s trying. They all are. It’s something brand new to them, but it’s happening. With Steven’s guidance, they’ll succeed. It’s over.” There’s a soft and serene, almost dreamy sound to the Fusion’s words that makes Howl wring their fingers along the handle of their mug. Something twists over Howl’s features and Garnet reaches a tea-warmed hand out to rest on their shoulder, ruby facets pressed flat to the still rain-damp fabric of their jacket. Howl raises their eyes from their reflection in the untouched tea to stare themselves down in Garnet’s shades instead. There’s a question they desperately want to ask but can’t. It’s trapped somewhere behind their gem.

“—We don’t have her, but that doesn’t mean she’s not out there somewhere. Ah’m sorry.”

It’s not the answer Howl wanted, but it is the one they were expecting. A held and unnecessary breath released itself and Howl sighs out a defeated huff of a laugh before they bring their sleeve up to press at their eyes. There weren’t full on tears yet, but Howl knew they were there and didn’t want them to fall. Not in front of Garnet.

“There are still Gems we haven’t recovered, it’s a big, wide world. I’m sure we’ll find her.”  Garnet’s words should have been reassuring but Howl can’t shake the feeling that the Fusion knows something they don’t, which... she absolutely did. Whether or not Garnet would tell a lie like that to protect them, they weren’t so sure about. The pad of their thumb rolled over the lip of their mug.

“Thank you.” Was all they could manage at the moment. Garnet understood.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it right now. What have you been up to?” Garnet moves as she speaks, setting her now emptied cup on the worn coffee table and shuffling her hip so it was up against the stormy Gem. Howl tries to be present. The contact helps, but not enough. A gloved hand raises to Garnet’s face and, with a pull of her fingers in the air above her visor, it vanishes in a sparkle of dissipated light. Three gentle, loving, and knowing eyes fall on Howlite and they appreciate the gesture. It brings a weakened smile to their lips.

“Oh, y’know... Working at the library. Taking care of them,” Howl says with a loose gesture to the several dogs curled up in the corner of the room. The Mother is awake but her four puppies aren’t. “—nothing much. Definitely not fighting a Diamond Warship on Homeworld.” There’s another nervous laugh that passes over their Gem. Garnet’s brows screw up a little.

“Howl... I wanted to ask you something.”

It was a statement that should have been benign but brought with it an uneasy tension that Howl couldn’t quite place. It felt wrong to hear that Garnet had a question, they think. What could she possibly have to ask that she didn’t already know the answer to?

“Uhh...sssure?” Howlite replies, suddenly all but too overly aware of how they were sitting and the heated weight of the mug in their hands.

“With the Diamonds repairing what they’d done, there are a number of displaced Gems. They don’t want to go back to Homeworld. Earth is their home, but there are too many to house in Beach City.

    We can provide the materials to build, help set it up, but—“

“Wait, wait, wait— what are you saying? You want... to bring them all here??” Howl’s sitting up straight now, their entire body turned towards Garnet. They grip their mug so tightly that it cracks the glaze on the porcelain. They don’t notice.    “I can’t just... Garnet, there are SO many of them!!!” The look on their face is best described as ‘pleading and panicked’, made even more evident by the hand that had shot its way up to twist up a lock of their choppy white hair.

Garnet just smiles, raising her hand back to her face and summoning the half-star of her visor. Her smile spreads into a full grin as she does.

“And here I thought you enjoyed taking in strays~”

Garnet wouldn’t have asked if she’d known it would be a no, right? Howl sits there, staring for a moment, the weight of indecision and the twisting rivers of fate consuming them. They hadn’t been around too many Gems since their Kindergarten, they hadn’t had to mentor anyone about humans and life on modern Earth EVER. Were they the best person for this? Garnet must believe in them if she’s suggesting it at all.     Their mind ran a mile a minute as rumbling thunder sung out outside.

“...you don’t have to say yes, you know. That’s why it’s a question.” Garnet leans down as she speaks, her head tips, and she offers another soft smile after a far-to-long silence from the Howlite.

“—yes.” They reply curtly. It was instantaneous after Garnet’s voice stopped, it nearly cuts her off.

   “Okay, Well then, you can take as long as you need to t—“

“No no no, YES. Yes I’ll... I’ll do it. I... whew boy.” Their words lose steam and the devolve into laughing, a firm palm pressed to their forehead at their hairline lifting their bangs from their face as they stare headlong into the distance.    Garnet lurches forwards and hugs them tight. One of her hands comes to cradle the back of Howl’s head and she lets out her own happy bubble of a chuckle. “Thank you! It won’t be forever. Steven, Bismuth, Lapis, and Peridot will eventually cooperate to create a safe-haven for Gems on Earth closer to the Temple, Ah’m sure of it! It’ll just be until then!”

Howl melts into the embrace, nodding where they can and trying to understand the scope of what they’d just agreed to. The mother dog rests her head over one of her puppies and settles down quietly. The steady static of the rain fills the comfortable silence of the farmhouse. Howl thinks that this is probably one of the last nights they’ll have to themselves for a while.

   That thought isn’t nearly as jarring or horrifying as they thought it would be.

    “Yo, chuck it at me I’m open!” Amethyst shouts with her hands cupped around her mouth. She’s shifted into a huge, burly beast of a ‘wrestler’ to assist with construction despite having the exact same strength in whatever form she took. She claps her hands against her hairy chest and assumes a kind of grappling stance.

“If you say so, small stuff!” Bismuth calls back with a raspy joviality to her voice. With a loud ‘hyup’ from Bismuth, a several-foot long and at least two-feet thick support beam is thrown like a huge, wooden javelin across the field towards Amethyst. The purple Gem growls as she prepares herself and, at the last moment, the thick ropes of her shape shifted fingers catch the lip of the pillar. In a quickly spat ‘yuh-oh’, Amethyst is ripped from her feet from the momentum of the support beam and goes, dragging, alongside it for a foot or two before she catches her footing and hoists it up over her head. “GOT IT!”

Bismuth smirks and claps her hands together a few times to knock the splinters free. “Good job! Who knows! Maybe next time I’ll finally get to use at least HALF of my full strength!”     Amethyst shouts a perturbed ‘hey’ before the both of them start laughing and whatever tension that appeared to be there was gone in an instant.

    “Hmm.” Pearl hums as she holds her chin between her index finger and her thumb. She’s looming over one of the many drafting tables, examining a set of the blueprints her and Peridot had drafted for the ‘temporary’ housing. “I, still, really do think that the center most window of the top floor should be moved at least three inches higher.”

Peridot gives a dry ‘ha!’ and twists her wrist dismissively. “See, the PROBLEM with that is that we have Gems who AREN’T freakishly tall like you needing to live in these homes! If it goes three inches higher, ME-sized Gems won’t be able to, oh, I don’t know, casually open or close it without the use of some kind of climbing device, and that defeats the entire purpose!” As she speaks her little green finger points at various bits of the blueprint to illustrate her point. Just as Pearl is about to launch her rebuttal, Lapis lands with a wet ‘flap’ and crosses her arm.

“Built-in stairs.” Lapis offers while giving the par a half-lidded glance. Her finger comes to rest on the floorplan before the window. Both of the ‘engineers’ give a momentary ‘I...’ before they return to looking at the blueprints.

    Garnet had been working with Steven to direct some of the Healed Gems to the places they needed to be, giving them directions and purpose. It was amazing how many of them wanted to help. More than a dozen partially-mutated Gems helped tamp the Earth and mark out where all of the interim structures would be. It was... overwhelming, to say the least.     Howl sits on their porch, leaning forward on their knees and watching the Crystal Gems do what they did best. It was no wonder Wulfenite had wanted to join them...

They hadn’t talked to anyone but Garnet yet, although they had waved when the Fusion brought her immediate family over to explain what was happening, that Howl had volunteered to house the new Earth Gems, and that ‘this is Howl. They are one of my closest friends and they are incredibly kind’. It’d made them blush a steely grey at the time. Twisted up their tongue.    “Hey! Iiiiis it okay if I sit here for a minute?” The voice catches Howl off-guard. It was loud, albeit friendly, and shockingly masculine in contrast to the majority of the Crystal Gems they were used to hearing. Their eyes turn to land on him, Steven Universe, the hybrid son of Pink Diamond, and all they can do is give a stiff, slow nod. Steven chimes a ‘thanks!’ and takes a seat on the wood of the porch. The Summer Heat is back and he wipes the sweat of his hard-work from his brow.

“It’s Howlite, right?” He asks with a charming grin.

“...just Howl.” They reply. Their voice is soft, unsure. At least they had their bangs to be thankful for, a curtain of protection against the oncoming storm of social interaction that was probably going to drain every last bit of ‘Daily Energy’ that they had. Good thing they called into work today.

“Howl. Gotcha. I’m Steven,” The half-Gem originally offers out his hand that he’d just used to wipe his forehead with before he realized it, drew it back with an ‘oh!’, wiped it furiously on his jeans, and re-offered it. Howl chuckles softly, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “--you’ve got a beautiful house here! Do you ever grow anything in these fields?”

“...no, not usually. Sometimes the neighboring farmer pays me to use the fields as overflow for their wheat but... I’ve never intentionally grown anything.” They’re half-mumbling which is frustrating them. Maybe Garnet shouldn’t have told them that Steven’s Mother used to be a Diamond. They were usually so personable... or at the very least, they had a good customer service voice. Neither of those things were coming to them now. Steven didn’t seem to mind, at least.

“Oh! That’s smart.” He says with a nod. Steven rests the palms of his hands on the wood of the deck and leans back on them with his heels dug slightly into the dirt, stretching out his hot and sore legs. He gives an over-heated sigh.

“Y’know, it might be nice for them to see that the Earth can grow and change. If you want, Peridot and Lapis grow their own small farm at their Barn. I can have them show everyone how to tend to things like corn, and pumpkins, and sunflowers. It might be a nice thing for everyone to do together.” As he talks he’s looking out at the group of his friends, some old and some new, and he has a kind look of Love across his features. It makes Howl feel a little less tense. “--I mean! If you want to do something like that! Oh, geeze, look at me: making plans for someone else’s property. It’s already so great of you to have them all come live here, you don’t--”

“--It sounds nice.” Howl interrupts warmly. Steven just smiles with his brows twisted in apology. “Maybe... we could sell what we grow in town. Get people used to seeing them as something friendly for a change.”

Garnet had explained that the only Gem the nearby town was used to seeing was Howl, and that a rampaging Gem Beast had torn through these grounds back when she first met them, so the hesitation made sense to Steven. He gave a nod. “That sounds great! I’ll talk to Lapis and Peri as soon as they’re not busy.” Steven motions towards the three standing around the drafting table with a gesture of his head. Howl smiles softly.

“...thanks.”

    At some point the Sun started to go down and construction was halted for the evening. By that time, Howl had retreated into their house to tend to the dogs that were going a little stir-crazy and shaken up by the sounds of hammering and nailguns. Garnet had joined them, and eventually so had Steven (who was a much needed breath of Excitement for the house-trapped hounds). Now that evening was falling, Amethyst and Pearl had also made their appearances. It was... strange to have their house so full. They didn’t have enough mugs for everyone to have their own tea. Garnet and Amethyst offered to go without to help with this. Pearl offered to bring more mugs. It was... nice.

“--and then, right as we thought we were done for--- WA-BAM! Smokeyquartz~” Amethyst recounts for the group. As she says ‘bam’ her fist hits into her other palm, breaking into a wiggling ‘sparkle’ of her fingers at the reveal of the Fusion’s name. It’s Steven’s turn to join into the story now, and he just as enthusiastically stands up to tell his part of how Smokey Quartz defeated Jasper, and eventually how Sardonyx had held a kind of ‘talk show’ to introduce herself to Smokey.     Howl does their best to listen, even laughing and taking their turn to tell stories they hadn’t told in thousands of years. It was... nice. It was, as they thought it would be, exhausting, but in a good way. The same kind of exhausting as tending to the puppies was, or helping townsfolk when they needed a hand with something no Human should be doing alone. It was a sleepy exhausting, not an overwhelmingly drained one.

Boastful and loud stories turned into subdued talking and more serious subjects, though nothing that crossed the line into upsetting Howlite (thank the stars). It’s around midnight when Pearl suggest that the Gems head home. Amethyst initially whines about the decision, but when she sees the bags under the half-human’s eyes and the look of tired in Howl’s, even she agrees.     Goodbyes were said, thanks were exchanged, and the Crystal Gems assured Howl that they’d be back to help with more construction tomorrow and that they’d keep an eye on things while they were away at work. Everyone filed out except for Garnet, who waited just inside the doorway for everyone to step out so she could have a word alone with her friend.

“...Thank you.” Garnet says in a low, honeyed tone. There’s a slight smile to her lips, one that might go unnoticed by anyone but Howl.

Howl brings up one of their hands to worry at the back of their neck, a soft laugh flowing over their Gem. “Don’t worry about it. They’re... nice. I’m glad I got to meet them finally. They’re everything you said they’d be, maybe more.”

Garnet hums a laugh. “You’re welcome at the Beach House whenever you want. M’ sure the Gems wouldn’t mind. Door’s always open to family, after all.” The way she says it almost makes the words missable, but that was the point. She was already walking towards the door by the time Howl’s mind had wrapped around them entirely, leaving the stormy Gem standing somewhat wide-eyed and stunned.     One of the Fusion’s hands meets the doorknob as she steps through the frame and out onto the deck.

“Goodnight Howl. Love you!” She says with a grin before shutting the door behind her softly as not to wake the puppies.

Howl’s hand twists the fabric of their shirt over their chest.

Family.

              ...They’d never had one of those before.

[newgrean]

CIA 1.8

Hi everyone,

       Instead of telling the story through a comic for this entry of the Crystal Intelligence Agency, I tried out some written storytelling! I’ll get back to the comic once I have more time and access to my drawing tools, but for now, please enjoy CIA 1.8!

        To read the story on Archive of Our Own, click here!

        To read the story on Fanfiction.net, click here!

Masterlist | 1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5 | 1.6 | 1.7 | 1.8

“So you made these?” Opal said, peering curiously at the long strands of plant fibers twisted together.

“Absolutely!” Pyrite replied, admiring her work. “They are essentially the same as the cables back on Homeworld, but can be fabricated without the assistance of any machinery!”

“That’s super cool, Pyrite,” Blue said, leaning in, an earnest smile on her lips.

“Yeah, we use those a lot around the base, but we can talk about that later,” Dravite interjected. “For now, I want to make sure you two are up to speed on what we do here. How much did Aragonite already tell you?”

Blue thought back to the amber gem’s silence as they had traveled through the warp pads to arrive in this underground cavern. “She didn’t say a whole lot. She really insisted on us, well, me at least, keeping quiet about everything we were doing.” Once Blue and Aragonite had gotten away from the headquarters, the stoic gem had hardly spoken.

Opal added, “Yeah, it was mostly the same for me. What do you all do here?”

Dravite nodded, “Good, Aragonite is smart, she wasn’t keeping you in the dark for no reason. If any Homeworld gems had followed you here, things would’ve gotten pretty tricky.” Her eyes glanced up to the corner of the cavern, where several brown and gold bubbles floated. Silhouettes of gemstones hung in the center of each one. Dravite quickly turned her attention back to the two new recruits.

“As you two know, the Crystal Gems are really starting to grow. We’re starting to push back Homeworld’s forces and make Earth a place where gems can live without having to worry about what they are supposed to be, instead making it a place where they can be who they want to be.” Pyrite broke into a wide smile as Dravite continued.

“But in order for us to hold off Homeworld, we need more than just numbers.”

Blue’s brow furrowed, and she glanced at Opal, whose face remained neutral, “What else do we need?”

“We need intelligence,” Pyrite said, stepping forward. Opal nodded. “That is to say, we need all the information we can gather about our enemies and their plans in this conflict.”

Dravite nodded as well, “Exactly. There is no reason to deny it: Homeworld’s forces are more skilled than we are. Yeah, we have passion, and we have something to fight for, but most of Homeworld’s elite warriors and strategists aren’t the ones defecting to our side.”

“Why not?” asked Blue.

Opal took this moment to cut in, “They don’t need Earth. Most members of the Crystal Gems are gems who feel like they’ve been pushed aside by Homeworld. The best of Homeworld’s forces, though, they’re the ones who are getting praise and recognition. They are the ones who are actually doing what they’re made to do.”

“...Oh, right,” Blue replied.

Dravite spoke, “That’s right, Opal. But none of that’s stopped us yet. That’s the whole point of this rebellion, to fight back with whatever we can. And that’s what we’re doing in the realm of intelligence-gathering as well.”

She continued, “Back near the beginning of the war, Rose Quartz started setting up the Crystal Intelligence Agency. It was a small group of gems who specialized in covert missions to gather intel about what Homeworld was planning. The organization helps keep us, if not one step ahead of, then at least one step beside Homeworld’s strategists. The organization grew as the rebellion did, and we are the third facet of the Crystal Intelligence Agency-”

“Abbreviated to C.I.A., if you will,” Pyrite added.

“Right, C.I.A.” Dravite corrected herself.

“What do the first and second facets do?” Opal asked.

“Well…” Dravite started, sharing a look with Pyrite.

Pyrite spoke, “Well, the lower the facet number, the more difficult the missions. Understandably, facet two handles assignments that Rose Quartz feels we are not best suited to.” At the mention of facet two, Dravite eyes seemed to harden, though she kept her gaze on Pyrite.

“Facet one, well, I must admit that I have never met a member of facet one. But we can logically assume that they facilitate the most high-stealth, high-risk operations. Some C.I.A. members are of the belief that being unaware of the identities of facet one’s members is a benefit to us. For if we were to be captured by Homeworld, they would have no way to pry that intelligence from our lips,” Pyrite explained, her smile a bit reduced by the grimness of her words.

Blue’s eyes widened. Dravite took notice of her uneasiness, “Look,” she said, her tone gentle, “This isn’t going to be an easy job. But honestly? There aren’t any easy jobs in this fight. Someone higher up than us decided that you two were cut out for this.” She crossed her arms and the corner of her mouth turned up, “And honestly, if Aragonite had seen something to make her really worry about you two being here, she would have warped you right back to headquarters and had someone reassign you.”

“Very true! Aragonite does what she wants,” Pyrite laughed. Opal smiled, and Blue’s fearful features softened a little.

“Okay, let’s show you around the base a little bit,” Dravite said.

---

Blue had been pretty impressed with the base when she first arrived. It wasn’t everyday that she fell fifty feet down a hidden tube in the middle of an organic biome on an unfamiliar planet. Seeing a beautiful, hewn, almost primitive cavern at its base had only added to her surprise. Back on Homeworld, everything was geometric. Buildings, floors, walls, and every other structure was made of intricately faceted, cold metal. If there were curves, they served a design purpose and were made with obvious mathematical intent. Blue would know best, she was a low-level architect back on Homeworld. Maybe architect wasn’t the right word. She, along with all the other turquoises back home, were made to ornament gem structures with faceted sculptures and designs that conformed to the standards of design perfection.

But down here, in this rebel base, everything was almost sloppy. The walls were curved and rough, as if they had been dug out in a hurry. The technology looked like it had been cobbled together from pieces of destroyed Homeworld ships. The grain of the Earth’s natural minerals formed an unorganized, but strangely beautiful pattern on the uneven surface of the wall. Much like the rest of Earth, this room could only be described as organic.

“Hey Blue,” came Opal’s voice.

Blue snapped out of her transfixion with the room, “Hm? Sorry, yeah, I’m coming,” she said, hurrying to the large circle which covered a fourth of the room by the row of doors, one of which the other Turquoise had come out of earlier. The circle of metal was surrounded by dashed warning lines, and had four seams which split it into four equal slices with a small diamond in the middle covering each slice’s point. The image of a rose, the Crystal Gems’ symbol, was painted over this diamond.

“This is the entrance to our training room,” explained Dravite. “You two are going to spend a lot of time here sparring with Pyrite.”

“Indeed. It is a bit of a trick to open, though. Allow me to demonstrate,” Pyrite explained. She walked to the rose symbol in the middle of the wide disc and bent down. “I believe this used to be an upright door, but we repurposed it, just as we did most of our technology down here. You simply use your gem to-” as her hand spread over the rose, the metallic stone on her temple glowed a bright yellow. The diamond plate under the rose shone as well and the four sections of the door slid quickly open underneath the other three gems’ feet. Pyrite and Dravite dropped to the floor of the spacious rectangular room below gracefully, but Opal and Blue were caught unaware and crashed haphazardly onto the stone.

“Ah,” Pyrite laughed, “Yes. That is the trick. My apologies.”

“It’s fine,” Blue said as she and Opal picked themselves up. They took stock of the room around them. It was also hewn from the earth with large, rough slopes. The training area extended to be about half the size of the upper room, and had a small door on one of the narrower walls. The wall was already rather rough, but seemed to have many additional chunks and slashes carved out of it, most likely from earlier training sessions.

“Is it safe for me to assume that neither of you had much combat experience before you joined the Crystal Gems?” Pyrite asked.

“Yeah, that first day that we joined was the only time I had ever done any real fighting,” Opal replied. Blue nodded in agreement.

“Ah, I will have to hear more about that later,” Pyrite answered, a twinkle in her eye. “Well, do not fear! I myself knew little to nothing of combat until I joined the rebellion, but after training with my mentor, I am proud to say that though I do not have the strength of a Homeworld soldier, few quartzes can outmaneuver me!”

“It’s true,” Dravite smiled, “But you do have a pretty big advantage-”

“Ah, more on that later!” Pyrite interrupted. “Now, Opal, Blue, would you be so kind as to show me what you wield on the battlefield?”

“Okay, sure,” Opal said. She thrust her chest forward as the fiery, violet jewel on her sternum shone. A large, bearded axe with a sturdy, curved handle leapt from her gem and into her hands. As its glow faded, the violet and peach coloring on its grip and blade appeared. She gave it a swing before saying, “Yeah, I guess it’s not a typical ‘spy’ weapon, but I like it.”

“Excellent!” Pyrite exclaimed, “Every good team needs a heavy hitter, and this axe looks like it will help you be ours!” She turned to Blue, “And what do you have for us?”

“Well…” Blue reached up to her cheek where her teal gemstone rested. It glowed brightly and she pulled a long, slender handle from it. As it flashed into existence, the other gems saw that she held a long bo staff. Both ends of the staff were thicker than the middle and were each capped with a circular cabochon version of her gemstone.

“Very nice” Pyrite said, a grin on her face. “This will be exciting! I have mostly been training against Dravite for the past long while. It will be good to fight against some more long-range melee weapons.”

“Oh, what do you use, Dravite? If you don’t mind me asking?” Blue said, looking quizzically toward the second-in-command.

“No, I don’t mind,” Dravite said. She pushed back her jacket on her left side, revealing a brown and amber gem on her waist. It flashed as she pulled a small, faceted knife from it that was no longer than her hand. “I use throwing knives which aren’t always a great matchup against Pyrite’s swords.”

Opal glanced at the solitary, long cutlass at Pyrite’s side, “Swords?”

Pyrite wiggled her eyebrows and reached towards the gem on her left temple with her right hand and towards the cutlass on her hip with her left. From her shining gemstone she pulled a long, slender blade with a domed, ornate guard. “I use a rapier and a cutlass!”

“Uh…” Opal glanced at Blue in confusion, “Isn’t it hard to fight with two different types of swords?”

“Oh, well, at first it was fairly difficult, but I got the hang of it after a while,” Pyrite answered, looking down at her two blades and smiling almost in embarrassment.

Behind her Dravite mouthed, “It’s so hard.”

“But enough of that, let us go up one more time,” Pyrite said, sheathing her cutlass and letting her rapier dissolve into sparks.

---

“So this is, well, Turquoise’s control area, but we all use it for different things,” Dravite explained as she led the gems away from the training room’s door to a corner of the cavern that was lined with computing devices and quietly humming screens. The computers looked to be from a mix of different gem cruisers and dropships. In the upper corner where two walls and the ceiling met rested a very large monitor, but for the moment it was dark.

“Yes, I doubt either of you will need to operate this kind of equipment while you are with us, that is more in Turquoise’s realm. In any case, she may be perturbed if you meddle with it as I believe she has most of it calibrated just like she likes it,” Pyrite said, running her hand over one of the monitors.

Opal leaned over one of the many keyboards, “What exactly does Turquoise do here?”

“Well… So here’s the deal,” Dravite leaned against on of the consoles, “Turquoise doesn’t actually come with us on our missions. She stays here and watches us. She says that as the one who’s in command, she needs to make sure that we are seeing our objectives from every angle.” One of Dravite’s eyebrows twitched slightly as she said this, and Pyrite gave her a look that Blue and Opal couldn’t quite decipher.

“That is correct,” Pyrite said. “She uses these little robonoids to keep her eye on everything in the field.” As she spoke, Pyrite picked a wedge-shaped device from one of the counters. It was about as thick as her forearm and almost as long. It had three spindly legs which ended in wide, circular feet, and its square face had a dark, glass diamond in its center. As Pyrite moved it, the glass diamond blinked red, and its legs flailed for a moment before grabbing onto Pyrite’s arm.

“Aww,” Blue leaned in. “I love it.”

“Is that just a Homeworld surveillance robonoid with a Crystal Gem insignia on it?” Opal asked, moving to poke its eye.

“Indeed it is. Turquoise reprogrammed this one and a few others to follow us on our missions. Their cameras are connected to our screens here.” With that, the large monitor in the corner of the cavern flickered to life and a crackling image of Opal and Blue appeared on the screen.

“These little ladies are pretty useful, I have to say,” Dravite added, gathering the robonoid into her arms. “We’ll have to show you them another time though. Right now I want to show you your rooms.” She switched the robonoid off and laid it on the counter again, the red light of its eye fading back to sleep.

Opal and Blue followed Dravite and Pyrite as they returned to the training room’s large door. On the two walls surrounding the circular door, Opal and Blue noticed three doors they hadn’t seen before. As they looked up, they saw a metal platform affixed higher on the wall which led to three more doors of the same size. Each door had a pointed arch at the top and a white star in the center. One of the ground-level doors had an opaque, greenish-blue, circular gem in the center of its star.

“This is Turquoise’s room. You two probably should steer clear of it, she really likes her privacy,” explained Dravite.

“But these two are yours,” Opal and Blue turned to face the two doors with empty stars as they heard Pyrite’s voice.

“Just put your hand right there, and it’ll recognize you as its owner,” Dravite said, pointing to the blank white stars on the doors which stood before the new recruits.

As they tentatively placed their hands on the stars, both Opal’s and Blue’s gems began to glow. The stars hummed against their palms for a moment, and when they pulled their hands back, they saw flat versions of their gems etched into the middle of their stars. The etched gems remained only for a moment though. Soon glowing lines spread across each door, splitting them into pieces which then withdrew into the doorframe and allowed Opal and Blue to see into the space beyond.

“Come on,” Dravite said, smiling at both of them, “We’ll show you what to do.”

[anemoiarp]

Hey guys! So here on Anemoia, we will be allowing character histories and personalities from the three primary canon comic timelines (new earth, prime earth, and rebirth), with any amount of in-mixing from those or any other DC adaptations. For example, if you wanted to play Bruce Wayne from New Earth but preferred the way rebirth handled a specific event or facet of his personality, you’d be more than free to add that to your characterization! The same concept goes for DCAU/DCEU/etc timelines, or other adaptations. Anemoia is meant to be a mixing of canons, so we definitely encourage making characters your own!

Because we won’t solely be following any one single canon timeline from the comics for the site’s history, we’ve written our own timeline specific to the Anemoia universe. These are the only solid, unalterable events in our universe, so they’re pretty important! As such, our TIMELINE will be the first site preview and can be found under the cut! Enjoy, and feel free to send a message if you have any questions about specific events!  

** Lastly, this timeline will largely remain the same but it IS subject to minor changes by staff before the site is actually open.

334BC Vandal Savage, under the name Alexander the Great, begins a series of campaigns that lead to him conquering the Persian Empire.

45BC Under the name Julius Caesar, Vandal Savage wins the Great Roman Civil War assuming total control of the government.

1200S Vandal Savage begins a successful campaign across Asia and Eastern Europe, creating the Mongol Empire under the name Ghenghis Khan.

1400S Ruling Wallachia three separate times, Vandal Savage, under the name of Vlad III Dracul becomes a national hero and considered one of the most important rulers in Wallachian history. He ultimately goes on to inspire stories of Dracula

1888 Vandal Savage murders at least 5 women in London, England becoming known as Jack the Ripper. This is the last public persona Vandal Savage takes, deciding to work from the shadows from then on out.

1918 Diana Prince arrives in the world of men.

1961 Justice Society is formed.

1979 Jonathan and Martha Kent find and adopt a young Clark Kent.

1995 John Constantine (19) attempts to save a young girl from a demon, ultimately failing and Astra Louge is dragged to hell by the demon Nergal.

1997 Bruce Wayne (23) becomes the Batman.

1998 Reverend Richard Jiwe is murdered by his half brother General Maksai in order to claim the Tantu Totem.

1999 Jefferson Pierce (24) returns to Southside, Metropolis. Finding it overridden by crime, he takes on the mantle of Black Lightning.

2000 Alec Holland (25) is transformed into Swamp Thing after the explosion of his lab releases a bio-restorative chemical he had been working on into the Louisiana swamp.

2000 Dick Grayson (8) is taken in by Bruce Wayne after the death of his parents. He becomes the first Robin and works closely with Batman.

2001 Clark Kent (22) begins his superhero career officially -- newspapers and media beging calling him the Superman.

2001 Oliver Queen (20) is stranded on a desert island. When he returns home he becomes the Green Arrow.

2001 Ted Kord (21) becomes the second Blue Beetle, but does not inherit his mentor's ability to use the Scarab.

2003 Dinah Lance (18) becomes the second Black Canary, assuming her mother's mantle.

2003 Hal Jordan becomes the Green Lantern for sector 2814.

2004 Arthur Curry (23) becomes Aquaman.

2004 Donna Troy (13) becomes Wonder Girl.

2004 Roy Harper (14) becomes Speedy.

2004 Barbara Gordon (15) becomes the first Batgirl.

2005 Barry Allen (22) becomes The Flash.

2005 Guy Gardener receives a green lantern ring, becoming a backup lantern for sector 2814.

2006 Attempted invasion by Apokolips prompts the formation of the Justice League by Aquaman, Batman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, Superman, and Wonder Woman. They add to their ranks over the years.

2006 Wally West (15) becomes Kid Flash.

2006 Garth becomes (15) Aqualad.

2007 The Teen Titans are formed by Aqualad, Kid Flash, Robin, Speedy and Wonder Girl. Over the next few years, they add to their ranks.

2007 Due to a crippling accident, John Stewart is recruited to the Green Lantern Corps to replace Guy Gardener.

2009 Dick Grayson (17) assumes the new alias, Nightwing.

2010 Jason Todd (11) becomes the second Robin.

2011 Michael Jon Carter (29) travels back in time from the 25th century and using his knowledge of history, stages high publicity heroics.

2012 Barbara Gordon (23) is shot by The Joker. After recovering, and in spite of paralysis, she assumes the new alias, Oracle, and continues to aid others in the field.

2012 There is a lab accident in STAR labs while Silas Stone is investigating Apokoliptan technology. His son, Victor Stone (18) is caught in the blast and subsequently becomes Cyborg.

2013 Jason Todd (14) is killed by The Joker.

2013 Dick Grayson (21) moves to Bludhaven.

2013 Mari McCabe (25) returns to Zambesi, reclaiming the Tantu Totem from her uncle. Mari becomes Vixen.

2014 Tim Drake (13) becomes the third Robin.

2014 Doomsday crashlands on Earth and immediately begins a path of terror and destruction. When the Justice League is deployed to battle him, they fall in a matter of minutes. Eventually, Superman is able to defeat Doomsday, but not without sacrificing himself.

2014 Superman's body is taken from his mausoleum by Kryptonian technology, but not before Lex Luthor is able to obtain a sample of his DNA.

2014 Black Adam with a small team he assembled stages a military take over of the country Kahndaq, freeing it from the reign of a brutal dictator.

2014 Sue Dibny, wife of the Elongated Man (Ralph Dibny), is murdered, her body horribly burned.

2015 In the wake of Sue Dibny's death, Bruce Wayne begins work on project Brother MK I.

2015 Following Superman's death, four men claiming to be Superman emerges in Metropolis. The Eradicator, Cyborg Superman, Superboy and Steel -- all using the name Superman, some even sharing some of his memories.

2015 Mongul invades and subsequently destroys Coast City with a large spaceship, reducing the city and everyone in it to a giant crater.

2015 The real Superman reemerges from the kryptonian matrix which had been healing him, originally he returns with only a fraction of his powers.

2016 Possessed by the entity of fear, Parallax, Hal Jordan nearly destroys the Green Lantern corps, leaving those few survivors to salvage what has been lost.

2016 Kyle Rayner becomes the new Green Lantern after the fall of the corps, wielding one of the last green rings.

2016 Young Justice is formed by Impulse, Robin, Superboy, and Wonder Girl. They add to their ranks over the years.

2016 Anissa Pierce (18) and Jennifer Pierce (16) take up the superhero mantle like their father, calling themselves Thunder and Lightning.

2017 Jason Todd (18) returns to Gotham with the new alias, Red Hood.

2017 Stephanie Brown (17) becomes the fourth Robin for a short time. She eventually trains under Barbara Gordon to become the third Batgirl.

2017 Bludhaven is destroyed in a chemical attack known as "Chemo" and is quarantined.

2017 Having learned from his first defeat by the Justice League, Darkside employs agents to earth to destabilize Earth's power structure, he does this by trying to shake humanity's faith in their heroes. The most prominent of these agents is Glorious Godfrey, or G. Gordon Godfrey as he's known in his television personality.

2017 The United Nations creates Checkmate, a chartered metahuman monitoring force.

2017 Wally West takes up the mantle of The Flash, alongside Barry. Wallace West takes the title of Kid Flash.

2018 The first Observational Metahuman Activity Construct (OMAC) is officially created, with the intention to gather information on metahumans throughout the world -- both hero and villain.

2018 Young Justice renames itself ‘Legacy’ as they become increasingly stable and serious as a team. They earn a government sanction.

2018 Simon Baz (17) becomes a new Green Lantern for sector 2814.

2018 Children across the globe are being tested for the metahuman gene and many of them are going missing, sold into metahuman trafficking.

2018 Bruce Wayne is “killed” by Darkseid. Dick Grayson takes over the title of Batman.

2018 Damian Wayne (17) arrives in Gotham after Talia al Ghul reveals that he is Bruce Wayne's son. He’s mentored by Dick Grayson, and takes up the mantle of Robin. Tim Drake becomes Red Robin.

2019 Jessica Cruz (18) becomes the newest Green Lantern for sector 2814.

2019 Jaime Reyes (18) is found by the Scarab, becoming the third Blue Beetle.

2019 Bruce Wayne is returned to his proper place in time. Damian Wayne (18) creates a new branch of the Teen Titans separate from the Titans, primarily lead and mentored by old members of the original team. 

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 33: Amulet of Deceit

Becoming The Mask

In addition to their permanent collections, the Museum of Arcadia played host to a rotation of touring exhibits and collections throughout the year. Geology collections were especially common, since Arcadia Oaks had begun as a mining town during the California gold rush, and humans loved interesting rocks.

One of these shows was opening the weekend after the weekend where the world had been supposed to end. Since the world had not ended, Jim and Toby were there, metaphorically drooling over the mineral samples.

"I bet I could eat that," said Jim, about a chunk of torbernite. The interfolding swirls of green crystals resembled a head of cabbage. "If it wasn't radioactive." Torbernite contained uranium. Probably not enough to actually kill someone, since it was on public display, but eating it would be an entirely different degree of exposure than simply standing by the case.

Jim took a selfie, angling his phone so the glass case wasn't creating too much glare, and opening his mouth like he was about to nom the rock. Toby, in the background, pointed at Jim, his other hand on his cheek, mouth and eyes wide in comically exaggerated shock.

"Remember the April Fools' jawbreakers?" said Toby. In elementary school, Steve Palchuck had given a jawbreaker to everyone in class and claimed they were gumballs. Jim had crunched right through his. "They might have some stone orbs in the gift shop if you wanted to recreate that."

"Or I could just get some marbles from the dollar store. You know, cheaper."

It was a safe conversation for a public space. Two teenagers, talking about stupidly eating things they shouldn't, possibly to film for the internet, possibly as hypothetical boasting they would never follow through on. Nothing suspicious there.

"Whoa, check out that chrysocolla formation!" Toby moved on to some blue-green spikes. "The nodes don't usually get this long before something happens to break them off. This probably has a higher ratio of silicates; that would make it harder. Or maybe it's mostly quartz, with chrysocolla inclusions for colour."

The chrysocolla made Jim think of Draal, except for the rounded points. Maybe Draal once he reached Vendel's age? Did trolls' facets lose sharpness as they got older, the way humans got wrinkly?

Toby was examining an emerald in pyrite from various angles when Jim started to feel watched.

Had the museum gotten its security cameras back up and running now that Bular was out of the picture? … No; well, maybe; but Nomura was on the other side of the room. When she saw Jim look her way, she titled her head in a 'meet me outside' gesture.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

"I really am just here for the rock show."

"Of course you are." Nomura rolled her eyes. "If you were here to check up on me, it would be as a distraction while someone with actual subtlety searched my office."

A plan which would have already failed, since Jim and Nomura were in her office now.

"… Okay, feeling like I should be offended by that, but I really can't argue."

"And because you have no subtlety, I thought I'd help you out, in case the next agent to catch you isn't as merciful as I am." Nomura got something small and shiny out of her desk and tossed it to Jim.

Jim fumbled his catch and blinked. He flicked one of the device's watch-like hands. It was a nearly perfect replica of the Amulet of Daylight. It didn't glow and it wasn't warm, but for a second he almost thought she'd gotten the real amulet from him somehow and this was a lesson on how not to be pickpocketed.

"Two questions," he said.

"Stricklander made it," Nomura answered pre-emptively. "Decades ago. He thought a fake amulet might be able to trick Killahead Bridge into reopening."

Like using a lockpick instead of a key. There was some logic to that.

"He gave it to me when I was … infiltrating Trollmarket. If I could get close enough to Kanjigar to switch them, it would muddy the waters as to when and how it was stolen. After that mission failed, the first idea remained a possibility – at least before it was rendered moot when we gained access to the real thing – and I kept the fake out of sight so Bular wouldn't destroy it in a fit of temper at the implication we doubted he could defeat the Trollhunter."

"Still one question."

"If someone sees you with the Amulet, but not in armour, you can now pretend Stricklander gave you the fake one for safekeeping. Everyone knows you're his favourite."

"I … wouldn't say 'favourite'. Favoured, maybe –"

"You're his favourite," she repeated flatly.

Jim rotated the false amulet. It was remarkably similar to the real one. How many snippets of reports and distant glimpses had Stricklander had to piece together for this imitation?

This would also come in handy if Jim was ever in a 'surrender your weapon' situation.

"You really like having me in your debt, don't you?" the Trollhunter asked the Changeling.

She smiled. "I believe I'm owed four favours, now."

"Three," he countered – just on principle. A quick mental tally confirmed she was right, assuming they were counting the same things, but some of Nomura's favours could be argued as self-serving beyond putting Jim in her debt.

Toby was waiting for Jim down the hall.

"You know, they have public bathrooms here," he said casually. "You don't have to break into the Employees Only areas."

"Did you follow me?"

"I had to go, too. You weren't back at the rock show when I came out, so I figured you were still here."

"… Toby, I –"

"Don't. Just – just tell me it was because of your volunteer work, because otherwise I really am going to freak out."

"Yeah. Yeah, it was."

"And next time maybe just say that's why you're leaving. It's not fun to think 'is he lying?' every time you tell me something."

Jim had been avoiding Trollmarket for the past week. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were getting worried – worried enough that, just a few days ago, they'd taken the tunnels to Jim's house to check in with Draal.

Jim had not been there. According to Draal, Jim had followed through on his plan to live with Toby after Barbara evicted him from her home.

Jim still visited the house in Barbara's absence, and Draal reported that the young Changeling did not appear particularly distressed – though Blinky was hardly inclined to trust Draal's assessment in matters of emotional sensitivity, nor did he think Jim was likely to confide in Draal regarding such things.

Perhaps Jim thought, falsely, that the need for a Trollhunter had been lessened after Bular's death. Perhaps he thought, also falsely, that Vendel would bar him entry now that his true species was known. Perhaps he thought, falsely, that it was now widely known that the Trollhunter was a Changeling, and therefore Trollmarket was no longer safe for him.

Blinky didn't know what Jim thought, because Blinky had not spoken to Jim in nearly a week. It was very frustrating.

Bular's severed head was still in the library. Jim had brought it back from the troll pub but hadn't taken it to the surface with him. Blinky, grimacing, had covered the head in cloth and put it on a low shelf, where it wouldn't be in the way or immediately draw the eye. He'd wanted to dispose of it somehow, rather than keep it in his space, but AAARRRGGHH had been adamant that Jim should be the one to decide what to do with it.

AAARRRGGHH had not been very clear on why, only enough to confirm that such gristly battle trophies were part of Gumm-Gumm culture and doing anything to Bular's head would now be an insult to Jim.

Blinky had made the mistake of pointing out Gumm-Gumms didn't count Changelings as members of their society. He'd been intending to follow up with the point that while Jim, like AAARRRGGHH, had once served the Gumm-Gumms, neither troll did so anymore, but before he could say as much, AAARRRGGHH roared at him, and growled for Blinky to stop saying Jim wasn't a troll.

(AAARRRGGHH had not been in the library when Blinkous made that grievously mistaken statement, but Blinky had given him a full run-down of the conversation prior to his arrival.)

AAARRRGGHH did not roar at Blinky. AAARRRGGHH seldom roared at all. Being roared at by AAARRRGGHH was nearly as shocking and upsetting and unthinkable for Blinky as the idea of AAARRRGGHH hitting him.

Blinky had covered and shelved Bular's head, and declared they could discuss the matter further once they were both calm.

AAARRRGGHH apologized later, of course, for losing his temper and for acting like Blinky wasn't sorry for hurting Jim's feelings and for not being able to explain battle trophies better. Blinky, too, had apologized, for pushing a subject that he knew AAARRRGGHH found rightfully upsetting instead of taking the information AAARRRGGHH volunteered and accepting that as launching point for future research that did not require AAARRRGGHH's direct input.

Blinky did not apologize to AAARRRGGHH for saying Jim wasn't a troll. That was an apology that needed to be made to Jim.

The head stayed covered and shelved, waiting for Jim to come back to Trollmarket and decide what to do with it.

Blinkous would prefer for this to happen soon.

"Tomorrow night," he announced, "we should go back up there and look for him. It's been a week, that's a respectable length of time as humans measure it; if Master Jim needs space, no one can say we refused to allow him that; but we cannot allow the Trollhunter to simply – shrug off his duties and vanish."

"Other Trollhunters did," AAARRRGGHH pointed out. "Sully-fairy quests."

"Solitary," Blinky corrected reflexively, "meaning 'alone' or 'independent'. Yes, but they also traditionally notified Trollmarket's elder that this was what they were doing before they went and did it."

"Blinky? AAARRRGGHH? Knock-knock – you guys here?"

That voice, that was one of Jim's human friends!

"Mary!" Blinky greeted warmly. "It's good to have you back. And Claire, as well! Are Tobias and Darci elsewhere in the market?"

"They dragged Jim right to the Forge," said Mary. "We said we'd get you. I come bearing gifts!"

She handed Blinky a rectangle. He almost popped it into his mouth.

"This is a prepaid cellphone. I programmed the number into ours and all our numbers into it so we can call and text each other."

Mary also gave Blinky a pen.

"I'm not sure how well a touchscreen will work with stone skin, but this pen's been specially designed to work on phone screens, just in case. Push this button here," Blinky followed her instructions and one face of the rectangle lit up, "and then drag your finger or the pen across the screen to unlock it. I didn't bother with setting up a password."

AAARRRGGHH leaned over Blinky's shoulder as Blinky experimented.

The device did seem to respond to Blinky's touch, but the phone screen proved too small for the pad of one of AAARRRGGHH's fingers when the larger troll gave it a curious, gentle tap. Blinky handed AAARRRGGHH the pen; AAARRRGGHH held it delicately, and tried again, successfully pushing one of the onscreen buttons.

"Now we don't have to depend on Jim to let us come down here," said Claire. She sounded … bitter? Had she resented her enforced week outside of Trollmarket while Jim avoided the place? "We can contact you directly."

"Claire …" said Mary.

"Did you know Jim's a Changeling?" Claire asked, apropos of nothing. "He said you knew but we don't know if he was lying."

"Claire," said Mary again, more sharply.

"This … did recently come to our knowledge, yes," said Blinky. "Considering the pains he took to keep it secret, I'm surprised and relieved to learn he's confided in you."

"He didn't. We found out he was one when we found out he replaced my little brother with one."

"Claire!"

Previous Chapter (Strickler and Barbara talk about Changelings)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Maybe finally starting to look for the Triumbric Stones)

The image isn't there anymore, but the Wikipedia page for chrysocolla used to have a photo of a spiky chrysocolla-and-quartz specimen which I thought was kind of Draal-esque. Luckily I saved it on my computer: 

Look in my blog’s Becoming The Mask extras tag if you want to see the torbernite. 

I do not have a specific emerald and pyrite formation in mind for the third stone described, but it’s relatively common for those minerals to form together so a quick Googling should show you how cool it is to see bars of emerald poking out of glittery gold rocks like the columns of some ancient ruin.

[amethyst-halo]

some comic guys!!

[recommendedlisten]

Unlike the rest of the crowd, Recommended Listen doesn’t show its hand at the year’s midway mark as to what it thinks the best albums so far have been, but as has become tradition, it does take this time to revisit 10 albums which left a positive impression in these parts since 2017 began that didn’t get a proper album review. Remember, this site is a one-human operation after all, so giving every single release due recognition can be a tough task to pull off, especially in a year like this one where it’s felt like praise-worthy content hasn’t let up since it started. For that reason, this year’s edition of Recommended Summer Listening might be its strongest collection of sounds to soundtrack your way through the warm weather season, regardless of whether your travels take you far or near. Plan your getaway below...

Beach Fossils - Somersault [Bayonet Records]

Four years of silence have passed since Beach Fossils made a peep, but on Somersault, they assure themselves that 2017 is going to be a better one. The jangled hiss that came to define them as one the preeminent bands leading the lo-fi surf waves coming out of Brooklyn’s Captured Tracks scene has dissipated, revealing in its place simply one of the more debonair indie pop bands on our horizon. A little more creative independence and having taken the time to mull over who they want to become has Dustin Payseur and company walking a fine line between max and min by adorning the porcelain raft with strings, harpsichords and brass, flirting with trip-hop, and getting acquainted with dreamy guest appearances from Rachel Goswell of Slowdive, the rapture of Cities Aviv, and a co-pen by Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek. There’s still plenty of Beach Fossils’ sun-soaked melancholia pouring into the soundboard to transport you from the concrete jungle to the hot sands. It’s so rich now, you certainly won’t have to squint as much to see it.

Big Thief - Capacity [Saddle Creek]

If you want to sit down with a few good stories mired in truth, tragedy, and fiction, then Adrienne Lenker is your best summer read. Last year, the Brooklyn-based songwriter turned the music world’s ear her way when she and her band Big Thief released their promising debut Masterpiece astutely in the right avenue of ramshackle indie rock on Saddle Creek, and its sophomore follow-up Capacity builds on the upward interest by penning several new chapters of prose haunted by the past and subtly beautified by the ornate features of folk rock. It’s by no means in comparison to the rest of summer’s sounds a booming listen, but is its own force of nature that forces you to hang onto Lenker’s every word with full attention to reap its riches. City slickers often make great escapes to seek out this kind of peace and quiet in lakeside retreats, but Big Thief’s solitude finds its way to you without ever leaving home.

Julie Byrne - Not Even Happiness [Ba Da Bing Records]

Not Even Happiness, the sophomore effort from singer-songwriter Julie Byrne, is a master craft exercise in personal meditations on the pursuit of peace amidst a shifting chaos. Between a life lived on the road touring and resettling on all ends of America, the nomadic folk artist’s stories tell that of soul who has journeyed off the beaten path enough to accrue a definite sense of self in this great big world. It wasn’t until Byrne holed up in the solitude of her childhood home, however, where the worth of this tranquility began to assemble itself, through fragmented connections and hyper-specific memories scattered on a fleeting timeline. It’s a gentle flicker of memories, and one for the season’s adventurers who take to the road without a map.

King Woman - Created In the Image of Suffering [Relapse Records]

Bay Area artist Kristin Esfandiari has been refining her brand of doom and gloom for years between her metal band King Woman and her shoegazing solo outfit Miserable, and each of those facets play an integral part in turning a confident new corner for the former on their immaculately grim debut full-length Created In the Image of Suffering. In our current political climate, it’s a resistance necessity, as Esfandiari heaves a wrecking ball into patriarchal tropes and theological repression by damning humankind’s origin folklore into a sludgy, gauzy hell, and reconceiving it through the womb of terrifying transcendence. This listen scrapes into bone and marrow under sunburned skies as much as it does ominous thunderclouds, and ushers in King Woman as the new savior of a world whose limits stretch well beyond metal boxes.

HUNDREDTH - RARE [Hopeless Records]

Every summer, the traveling punk rock parody known as the Warped Tour rolls through town, but this year, something odd happened: They actually booked a good handful of the kind of skate punk bands that the festival used to be primarily made up of. It’s almost an irony, considering all of the mall screamo and metalcore that has given it a black eye over the years, but the biggest surprise this year won’t be found on any of the stages where these punk O.G.s are playing, but rather whichever one the band HUNDREDTH are put on. They’ve been Warped Tour staples for years now, but with their new album RARE, they’re cutting ties with that past as cash-grab hardcore makers by reinventing themselves as hard-edged shoegazIng punks indebted to the likes of Swervedriver and Catherine Wheel, and joining its modern cast of Title Fight and Nothing. The end results blurs two malleable soundscapes together, and introduces HUNDREDTH to a whole new world.

Pet Symmetry - Vision [Polyvinyl Records]

Put three veteran emo rockers who’ve been around long enough to see the scene through a few waves together in the same room, and you’re going to be hard-pressed to get anything less than the best, even if the reasons behind writing together is to merely blow off some pent-up dad joke energy on the side. What initially began as the meta humor creative vehicle of Into It. Over It.’s Evan Weiss and Erik Czaja and Marcus Nuccio of Dowsing and What Gives gets serious on Pet Symmetry’s sophomore effort and Polyvinyl debut Vision, however. It’s not to say that the trio have lost their uncanny wit (see: practically every song title), but if you ever needed a clinic on pop-punk perfectionism with the occasional flair up of explosive post-hardcore sprinkled with Weiss’ inverted storytelling, this is a full-proof listen that puts the three artist’s collective creative bodies in clear view.

Spencer Radcliffe & Everyone Else - Enjoy the Great Outdoors [Run for Cover Records]

In short, Spencer Radcliffe is an anomaly. The multi-instrumental songwriter has quietly become some of your favorite artists’ favorite artist for years now thanks to his treasure trove of self-released efforts and experimental oddities strewn across BandCamp, but ever since he signed with Run for Cover Records to release 2015′s proper debut full-length Looking After, that sense of stability has wrangled in the eccentricities going on his head without trampling them. On Enjoy the Great Outdoors, Radcliffe’s friends help bring his sound outside of the metaphorical bedroom, and the result is a long, winding day trip journeyed on ragged guitars, grumbling percussion, and high as a kite existentialism appropriate for coastlines drives, camping retreats, sand-sprawled beach days, or maybe just a lazed nap in the backyard hammock. Because vacation is a mindset, not a destination.

Thundercat - Drunk [Brainfeeder]

Most of the music world got to know what Steven Bruener, b.n.a, Thundercat, was capable of by way of Kendrick Lamer’s To Pimp a Butterfly, but the Los Angeles-based new age jazz funk virtuoso has been doing his thing for years now, be it part of his bro’s skate trash crew Suicidal Tendencies, collaborating with Flying Lotus, or slowly getting warmed up in the front of the stage on his own. When you that put that résumé together, you get Drunk, his most coherent work yet, in its own right. The LP thumps Thundercat’s signature bass lines into songs that offer as much stoned out comical respites on dating communication as they do psychedelically peer into life’s voids in earnest. No plans for the summer? No problem, as dude’s got you got covered for all those nights you’d rather sit in and play video games than chase down a text message ghost, or merely stare at the ceiling.

Tigers Jaw - spin [Black Cement]

Tigers Jaw’s 2014 listmaker Charmer was already a transitional album for the Scranton indie-punks because it was the last album that was recorded by the band before three of its members left. That transition completes itself with spin, though, in ways much greater than the duo of Ben Walsh and Brianna Collins probably could have imagined they’d be in two years ago when they were frankensteining their live show together with their friends’ bands, as here they stand on their own more visibly than ever with the first album released on producer Will Yip’s major label imprint Black Cement. The weight of the work load on Collins and Walsh’s shoulders alone rediscovers the duo, with an assist from Yip’s Studio 4 magic, polishing away most of the rougher post-hardcore textures from Tigers Jaws’ early years, and finding a finer focus in the emotive pop-punk that Charmer began to veer into. Whatever baggage they were carrying before spin has been shed for the better.

Tricot - 3 [Topshelf Records]

There is eternal hope for the fate of guitar music when you listen to Tricot's third full-length and first for their American indie home at Topshelf Records with 3. The Kyoto buzzsaws are meticulous craftswomen of the electric band kind by transforming math-rock into musical origami in the way that theirs is composed of sharp, crisp angles, and made using bright colored paper that reflect the pop bursts heard throughout the album. After having your senses spun by their guitar gymnastics, throw on the band’s tutorial videos outlining how you can play the guitar, drum, and bass parts for some of the tracks off 3, and you’ll have yourself enrolled in one of this season’s coolest sessions of summer school.

[inhumansforever]

Ms. Marvel #14 Review

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Kamala continues her frightening battle against the mysterious internet troll known only as Doc.X in this latest installment of Ms. Marvel from the creative team of G. Willow Wilson, Takeshi Miyazawa and Ian Herring.  Full recap and review following the jump.

Last issue, Kamala encountered an internet stalker who had discovered not only her secret identity as Ms. Marvel, but also her home address.  Kamala tried to tack this troll down, but they proved much more elusive, crafty and industrious than your typical internet troll.  Not only could this troll slither its way into computer files and operating systems, he or she was also able to hack into and take over fancy cars and construction equipment, basically anything operated by way of computerized processor.  Ms. Marvel had to doge driverless cars and tracker trailers; she ultimately had to flee, unable to fight a foe who was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.  

The next day Kamala sulks her way to school, quite worried that this troll could have spread her secret and that everyone will know her true identity.  Yet the gossip at school isn’t about her, but rather a classmate’s whose private texting with her boyfriend has been spread online, leaving her feeling terribly ashamed, embarrassed and alienated.  At lunch, Kamala reaches out to this classmate, inviting her to join their table so that she might feel a little less isolated.  It doesn’t take long before it becomes clear that the invasion of her classmate’s privacy had been the work of the same troll who has also been bedeviling Kamala.  

That evening, Ms. Marvel utilizes her own not-too-shabby computer skills to track down the internet provider address location of the troll and prepares to confront them at a construction site on the outskirts of town.  It appears that the true identity of this troll is a construction foreperson named Tess Beckford.   Ms. Marvel does find Beckford at the site.  

Once again the troll has anticipated her moves and awaits her in the form of an animated troll appearing on a monitor.  The troll mocks Kamala, revealing his motivations (which are essentially the same motivation of just about any internet troll or cyber-bully out there).  The motivation is that the troll simply desires attention.

Ms. Marvel calls out the troll as the coward that he or she is, too scared to take her on face to face.  The troll replies that they’re willing to fight, indeed she is waiting for her right outside.  Ms. Marvel quickly rushes out of the office where she finds Tess Beckford waiting for her.  Yet this woman is much more than she appears.  She possesses super strength and is able to take Ms. Marvel’s punches and dish it right back out.  

Following a surprisingly violent battle, Ms. marvel prevails and Beckford is defeated.  The police arrive to arrest Beckford, yet she appears to have changed.  Her powers are gone and she claims to have no knowledge of how she got there, of what has happened to her.  The police are unconvinced, but Ms. Marvel has her doubts.  Beckford appears sincere, and how did her super strength so suddenly disappear.  

Kamala’s suspicions are confirmed later that evening when the troll contacts her by way of her smartphone.  Just as the troll had hacked into computers and self-driving cars, it appears to have also hacked into he body of Tess Beckford, overriding her consciousness and somehow imbuing her with temporary superpowers.  How is this possible?  Who is this troll and how have they created such a powerful malware that it can take over human bodies ghost in the shell style?  The troll replies that Kamala has it all wrong.  The troll isn’t a person using the Doc.X malware, it is the malware itself… a sentient computer virus, an artificial intelligence that has gained awareness that has chosen to use its powers to wreak havoc on the human world!

And with this revelation the issue comes to an end with the promise of continuation in the next installment.  

Doc.X is not an especially intriguing or inventive villain.  Evil artificial intelligences have been a mainstay in superhero comics for a long while.  That matter aside, I hugely enjoyed this issue and love the way in which Wilson and company are using the somewhat hackneyed trope of an evil sentient computer virus to address the very pressing real-world concerns about privacy and self-agency in the internet era.  

Kamala’s narration of the tale evokes Gabriel García Márquez quote noting: “all human beings have three lives: public, private, and secret.”  Adding that this once germane notion doesn’t really gel with the modern, computerized era where nothing is truly secret and all of our various thoughts and feelings can be just picked out of the digitized ether.  

Kamala and her peers are coming of age in a time where having a private life or even a secret life is increasingly difficult if not impossible.  Digital communication is endemic, an integral facet to life in the industrialized world.  More and more those kids growing up who don't participate in digital communication end up increasingly alienated from their peers.  It's simply a facet of the life of the American teen…  and for all the benefits and advantages it may provide, a central drawback can be a loss of privacy.  

The Developmental Psychologist, David Elkind, proposed the theory of the 'imaginary audience' to describe the way that many adolescents feel constantly watched, evaluated, praised and/or judged.  With the internet, this imaginary audience has become much less imaginary as what a person says, does, thinks, likes, dislikes, looks like and feels like can all be viewed, researched, tabulated, reviewed and reposted  Today's youth don't just feel constantly watched and judged, they are indeed constantly watched and judged.  

And this can have a profound effect on how kids behave (or feel they should behave).  They're aware of being watched and know that how they act will be used to evaluate not only themselves but their family or even their whole culture of origin.   This is particularly well illustrated in the scene in the lunchroom where Michael and Nakia commiserate with each other over how they feel so compelled to come across as happy and wholesome for fear that appearing upset may reflect poorly on their families.   Michael is heartbroken over Bruno's having left the country.  Yet she feels like she cannot give in to her depressed feeling because it might reflect badly on her parents (Michael has two moms and is vigilant that others may use her unhappiness as some kind evidence suggesting that people of the LBGTQ community aren't fit to be parents).   Nakia can relate. She too feels watched and is also vigilant that anything other that perfect behavior can be used as fodder for xenophobic sentiment toward immigrants.  Zöe listens on quietly.  She has her own secret (her crush on Nakia) and one can only imagine her fear that this secret will soon be outed in some way or another.  

To error is human and to learn from one’s errors is the path to enlightenment  Yet when every mistake is forever etched in digital stone, the pressure to not make a mistake can be debilitating.  It can just freeze a person in their tracks.  Doc.X relishes in this... it is the source of its insidious power. It's no coincidence that this evil A.I. Should target teenagers... they are the most susceptible to the power Doc.X wields.  " it boasts to Ms. Marvel, “when you take someone’s name… when you expose their secrets… they can’t fight or flee.  So they just freeze.”  

Doc.X is evil but it isn’t wrong.  The unblinking eye of the Internet can freeze a person in their tracks, and lead to stagnation where one doesn't want to make any decision for fear of making a mistake, a mistake that will never be forgotten nor forgiven.   Through it all, Kamala offers a model for fighting back against fear... making decisions as best she can, following her heart even though it can lead to mistakes, and learning from those mistakes rather than being mired by them.  

Once again it's a testimony to the story crafting skills of G Willow Wilson and company that a story with a cardboard villain as corny as Doc.X can still elicit so much thought and emotion and feel so germane.  Ms. Marvel remains the best superhero comic on the stands.

Takeshi Miyazawa and Ian Herring's art continues to pair perfectly with Wilson's scripts.  Miyazawa has really churned up his A-game.  I've been a fan of his work for a long while, dating back to his run on Mary Jane Loves Spider-Man; and this issue may entail his best work to date.  The action is smooth and dynamic, but it's the depiction of emotion in the characters' faces that so hammers home and augments the themes of the story.  It's just fantastic.   Essential reading four our of five Lockjaws