#commentary and discussion with soap

[soapywankenopy]

I'm watching the Death Cure movie for the first time and I have some thoughts

First of all, I'd like to say I never finished the book series. I've only read Maze Runner and Scorch Trials. but something I noticed on my last attempted reread of Maze Runner was that Thomas is such a bland character. I think he's definitely better in the movies, thanks in large part to Dylan O'Brien's performance because he just has so much raw charisma and he imbues that into every character he plays no matter how bland the source material is. but Thomas is a bland character even in the movies, even with what little personality Dylan was able to infuse. and I think that's in stark contrast to Katniss in The hunger games (in the books) and a big part of that is because her story is told in first person so we are actually in her head, and it gives us a lot of insight into her psyche, she feels like a real person. she has real emotions. she is complex. but in the books Thomas's story is told in third person and it removes you. it takes you out of the character's head and we don't get a sense of who he is. but beside that, he's still very much a blank slate and I think that this contributes to him having a little bit of main character syndrome, Mary Sue-ism, whatever you want to call it. like he's a born leader, he's Super smart. he's literally the Death Cure, like his blood is the Cure, like that's op as hell.

and even the main premise of the story you know like, it's called The Maze Runner series. The maze doesn't make sense. why were they in a maze? I still don't get it. And I don't know if my theory can be backed up by truth, but my theory is that James dashner had this cool idea for this post-apocalyptic zombie story and then the success of hunger games happened and he was like all right, i have to gamify this. how can I make this a gimmick, what's the catch. thus, the idea for the maze was born because if you think about the story as a whole, it really does feel tacked on. I was thinking about it the other day and I was like, it really does feel like the Maze Runner movie/book, that section of the story (the maze trials) is detached from the rest of the story. it feels tacked on in my opinion. it's so unlike The hunger games because everything in The hunger games is intentional, the games aren't just games you know like The Maze Runner had its gimmick divergent had its gimmick, but the games in The hunger games had a purpose in the story. it all goes back to the point that Suzanne Collins was trying to make. and I think that's why so many of the copycats fall short. their message was a bland one and it wasn't strong enough to come back to. it wasn't the center point of the story. the copycats boiled The hunger games story down to its basic parts and in doing so they missed the whole point of the series.

and I'd like to go back to comparing Katniss to Thomas because they're both the main characters in their series, but they have the opposite impacts because Katniss is a character who is not a leader but everyone makes her out to be one. Thomas is claimed to be a leader but it falls flat on a meta level because he doesn't inspire, Katniss worked as the rebellion's spearhead because she inspires. she literally leaks empathy. she has this facade of apathy, of being completely closed off but she is a kind and giving and she is passionate and fiery and that's why the rebellion chose her to be the Mockingjay. her kindness and peeta's kindness was the crack in the capital's dam. kindness was the instigator that propelled the movement forward. but with Thomas it just seems like he is a leader out of happenstance, which is a fine story to tell, but I don't think it was told in the right way because he doesn't feel like an actual leader, and maybe, maybe in the books, he does feel like more of a leader and I just haven't gotten to that part yet. or I am misremembering, it has been a while since I read them. but in the movies we don't get very many examples, we are told and we are not shown. it's hard to feel anything for Thomas because he doesn't feel real. he feels like a cardboard cutout of what a lead character should be.

So those are generally my thoughts. if I have more I might reblog this with them later. if you have thoughts about this reblog it or comment I want to know what people think, especially people who actually finished the book series because I do feel bad for critiquing a book series that I haven't finished, and only watched the movies. I'm always hounding people for not reading the books and just watching the movies so I do feel like a little bit of a hypocrite. I want to know what people think. I don't mean to start any fights if Thomas is your favorite character, he is also my favorite character out of the series. I just can't turn off my critical thinking brain even when I want to because this was supposed to be a chill watch, something to enjoy because I love Dylan O'Brien but alas I cannot turn off the critical thinking right now and can't help picking things apart, so here we are, writing an essay when I should be folding laundry and watching a movie.

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 6

Check out part 1 here. AO3

John texted memes. Something about that surprised you. He presented as such a straight-laced demeanor that the silly text images added a layer of intrigue to the man who already took such care not to share more the bare minimum.

He sent his commentary about his ‘muppets’ as he called the men under his command. The image of a man in suspenders, a tie, and a coffee mug in one hand with the text “If they could just not…” followed by any number of pictures of Jim Hensen’s muppets. It always prompts you to ask for the cleansed version of their nonsense. John had confirmed that the men who had come in asking about him were the men under his command. They were still under orders to leave you and your shop alone. When he mentioned that in the first week of texting you were surprised.

>I can hold my own in my shop John, release them to come by for fixes on anything you haven’t already stolen from their bags.

When he didn’t reply within a few hours you followed it up with.

>Your Scotsman seemed pretty excited about getting a family kilt fixed. Let them come by John. I don’t scare easy.

Halfway across the world, John squints at his phone in the darkness of the safe house he and Johnny are waiting for exfil in.

“What did you say to my girl Soap?” Price questions in the quiet.

Soap jerks from his nodding-off sleep in the corner where he had settled down.

“What’s up boss,” he asks sleepily.

He turned his phone to show Johnny the message from you.

“What did you do to my girl?”

Soap squinted through the brightness blasting his eyes.

“Dinne do nothing Cap. Alls I asked about was a kilt repair. Me granddad’s kilt was given to me when he passed, I want to get it fixed up is all.”

Soap lacked the guile to ever pull off being an undercover agent. John turned the phone back to himself, frowning.

“Fine. You can go visit her. Spread the word, but if I hear any of you gave her a bit of grief?” He let the warning linger unspoken behind his words.

“Got it. Can I go back to sleep now?”

John harrumphs and pulls out a cigar, lighting it up as he contemplates how to reply to you.

<:Rolling eye emoji: Fine, but you let me know if they give you any trouble.

>You reply with a gif of someone giving a salute with the text aye aye captain below it.

Physically rolling his eyes this time John settles in to watch the sky and think of you.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

Christmas had to be the most peaceful one you had ever experienced. Laughing with your aunts and eye contact across the table with your cousins when someone said something wild before taking a sip had never been the norm. Every Christmas season meant spending time with your Mum’s family and her resentful sniffs when Pop would inform you of the times when his sisters might be passing through so you could see them. You think Mum hated that you had real conversations with the other side of your family. Everything on her side sat stilted in past hostiles and clothed in niceness for the sake of Gran who still watched with a sharp eye.

You hadn’t expected any gifts but the highlight had to be the scarf from your favorite cousin. It sat light and delicate on your neck. When you said goodbye to everyone and headed up to the spare room your Nana had set up for you. Settling onto the bed you fired off a text to John.

<Merry Christmas! Did you have a good holiday?

>Decent.

>Merry Christmas.

Attached was a photo of John with what looked like egg nog in his mustache with an arm around a man and woman who also had white streaks along their upper lips. Standing so close together you can see they share the same eye-crinkling smile.

<Aww! You look so cute with your egg-nog mustache! Did someone spike it before cups were passed around?

>But of course, can’t discuss childhood stories without a healthy glug of whiskey. Added enough of a kick that even the scary stories were told with a laugh.

>How has yours gone? You mentioned you would be with extended family up north this year.

<It’s been a blast. Best Christmas I can remember for a long time. I am spending the night with my Nana before driving home tomorrow.

<You have any fun plans between now and New Years?

>Other than deep cleaning the mold from my fridge?

You laugh out loud in the empty room. He probably wasn’t kidding. John had mentioned that he can be called for a job at a moment’s notice and sometimes it leaves him with some nasty surprises when he eventually got home.

<Yes you silly man, other than that.

Those dots went on and off for a long time. When the message finally comes through you are disappointed.

>Nothing crazy, mostly catching up on my shows.

<What like The Golden Bachelor?

You can imagine him fighting down a smile as he contemplates a reply. He isn’t that much older than you, but the way he mothers his men has them calling him ‘Old Man’. John complains about it but always with love.

>The muppets would like to you if you would like to join them for New Years.

>I told them I had plans with you but they insisted and are watching for your response.

Smirking you fired off one last response before starting your bedtime routine.

<Should I wear jeans or a pretty dress?

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

Stepping from the cab you wave your thanks and turn to the building. John is standing at the glass door, waiting for you to get close enough that he can welcome you in. You smile at him, excited for his reaction to your dress. It is mostly visible through the undone buttons of your long coat. You had made it yourself, hands cramping late into the night with the number of times you have had to pleat the skirt to sit exactly right. Ironing the piece flat each time you wanted to pleat it slightly differently had been deeply frustrating work.

The black dress wrapped around, sending one tie through the side piece to stretch across your back and meet the other tie to create a bow. The long sleeves and v of the crossing front gave you an excuse to pull out your push-up bra and put the girls on display. You had chosen a long skirt. Reflective swirls of gold shined in the light from your skirt. It brushed the top of your shoes each time you took a step. Jewelry you kept simple; gold hoops and a single pendant on a long chain. Some light eye makeup and a lip stain are all you did for your face today. You would forget to wipe it off when you got home and refused to deal with the breakouts that overnight in your makeup would provide. Thankfully your hair cooperated and sat neatly in a sleek bun.

Looking John over as you approach you are pleased to see him in a suit. The juxtaposition of his winter beanie will never not make you smile. You hadn’t seen this one from him in all his times of coming by. You would tease him about the belt he needed to keep them up later. Perfect you could poke and prod at him tonight to confirm that you had the right size for his Christmas present. It sat in the back of your shop, waiting for his next visit to confirm the dark blue suit would contrast beautifully with his eyes. Double vested with a double vent, because something about that cute bum being covered just so gave you butterflies. The pants should cling to his thighs barely and give him a nice long silhouette

John took you in from top to bottom and back up again. You thought him unaffected until he took your hand as he opened the door and pulled you directly into a hug. Hugging him fired off a spring-loaded batch of emotions. Between the subtle smell of his cologne and the heat of his hands searing through the back of your coat, you’ve never wanted a New Years kiss more than now.

God. You had to say something. Fuck it all. You opened your mouth to say anything really but John beat you to it.

“You look stunning tonight,” he pulls back, hands still settled on your spine. He looks from your hair to your cleavage and back, a warm smile growing on his face.

“Thanks, you look pretty spiffy yourself,” tugging on the lapels of his jacket you continue, “But this doesn’t fit quite right, and was that a belt I saw? How could you keep something like this from me, John?”

His smile got impossibly wider. Joy spread through you like the first drink of a warm liquor.

“I wondered if you would notice. Gaz mentioned to wear a suit and when I went digging through my closet this was all I could find.”

John released you from the hug, one hand sliding from your back and down your arm to catch your hand. He holds it all the way up the elevator. When the elevator deposits you on the 26th floor you let John lead. Number 2607 he opens without hesitation.

All his muppets are present, some even have dates. Kyle stood at the island, cutting cheese for the board. The woman who you assumed to be Kyle’s girlfriend floated around the room. Charms weaved into her braids and a sleek body con dress matched her beautiful smile as she offered you and John both a drink. You were surprised to see that Gary was a blond. His choice of date made much more sense than his hair color and makes you smile. Sharing a look with John he nodded once; Gary had a thing for goth women. Johnny and Simon sat at a table, deep in discussion. Neither had a date to be seen.

“Simon doesn’t surprise me but why doesn’t Johnny have a date?” You turn to question John, wary of letting your voice travel in the open space.

John takes a sip of his drink, “They would have a date if either of them would buck up and ask the other.”

Your eyes widened as you snapped your gaze back to the men.

“You would not make a good agent,” he chuckled. “Johnny come hold this for me.”

Johnny pops up and out of his chair without question, closing the distance to take the drink John is holding out. John then takes your drink and passes it off to Johnny as well. Shivers assault your body as John’s rough fingers slide the coat from your shoulder and move away to hang it up.

“Miss Seamstress!” Johnny leans in and places a kiss on your cheek as he passes your drink back. “It is good to see you. How is your shop going?”

“Good, almost too good. If my space were any bigger I would bring on another seamstress full time. As it stands I might still hire someone to help with the simpler tasks.”

“What counts as a simpler task in a shop like yours?” Johnny cants his head to one side.

“Mostly ironing, unstitching simpler items, phone calls, running the register, things like that.” John appears at your side, a finger catching your pinky. You curl it tight to acknowledge his presence.

Movement over Johnny’s shoulder shows Simon and Kyle both heading toward you for a greeting. Kyle gives you a kiss much like Johnny did and Simon nods. When Gary sees everyone is saying hello he abandons his date for a rib-crushing hug since both your hands are busy.

The night flows on, laughter and food flowing more freely than the drinks do. You end up chatting with Kyle’s and Gary’s girlfriends about Pilates and how funny it would be to see the men try. They jump from history to space to fashion and beyond. Midnight sees Gary and Kyle kissing their girlfriends. Johnny and Simon stare at each other’s feet in abject longing and John places a kiss on the back of your hand, much to your chagrin.

As John had nursed his single drink all night he drove you home after one, passing through a sobriety checkpoint with ease. The conversation never stopped flowing with John, teasing and jokes kept your spirits lifted until you arrived at your flat. He walked you to your door, hand firmly in yours.

His thumb brushed against your knuckles as you stared up into his eyes, hoping, praying for a kiss.

“Thank you for coming. I left your gift at home since I didn’t want you to have to lug it about. When can I bring it by?”

“You’re gift is at the shop, so tomorrow maybe? About noon?”

“That would work fine. I had a lot of fun tonight and I know my guys like you.”

“They are important to you, it makes sense you would want someone in your life to get along with them.”

“And do you,” he paused here, eyes searching your face, “What to be part of my life?”

Desperately. More than anything. Fuck yes.

None of those words passed your lips. All you could do is nod.

With his free hand, John cradles your face, pressing his lips to yours.

It had to be the best first kiss you ever had because you can’t remember a damn second of it. When you finally blink John is halfway down the hall and turning back to see if you are okay since you haven’t moved.

Sending him a sheepish smile and a nod you fight with your key to get your lock open and fling yourself inside. Once the door finds its home you squeal as quietly as you can and happy dance like a dork.

Part 5 | Part 7

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

[anya-nya-nya]

A sudden concept that struck my head today.

SFW, GN! reader, slave! reader, mention of Aventurine’s past > mention of SA, slavery

All wealthy men are the same - thinking money and status not only open all the doors but also crush all the morality norms. The higher you step, the more godlike you felt, thinking there's nothing you could do that would lead to bearing the responsibility.

Aventurine knew that along with another conclusion - all wealthy men are stupid but with a goddamn good memory. Because even when he stood on the same level as them, the whisper about his past lingered in the air, always the same conversation that popped like a soap bubble the moment he entered another casino. Of course they never would discuss it in front of him - at least not straightforward. Commentaries about his unique eyes or rare luck never were aimed to please Aventurine, but to puncture the invisible pit that still separates him from all the other players in the room, no matter how long his win strikes would be.

One day the usual groveling teases and double views become boring, resulting in a more cruel joke.

“And… The ace makes a full house.” — The hand behind his back calmed enough from trembling to be slided back onto the table while the second sprawled lazily over open cards with the highest score around other sets. Not a surprise but adrenaline hits anyways. Though, even with steam in his blood, Aventurine could easily say today's atmosphere was slightly off.

“Well, aren't you lucky today?” — The phrase one of his opponents said the first evening they accidentally intercourse, that now flew from his cursing mouth every time they met again - like some inside joke. — “He even outplayed you, Jake, despite your precious gift!”

Interruption wasn't the best way to learn the information, so Aventurine kept his mouth shut for now, busied himself with the chill the edge of a champagne glass gave to his lips. His eyes flash to the addressed man anyway - cause there were no gifts.

“Well, maybe because he hasn't seen it yet? I'm sure after unwrapping our dear player would be more amiable toward us, huh?” — Jake smiled, but both his mettle and voice was too familiar to Aventurine now - that tone certainly wasn't good for him. — “Pardon, but it seems my surprise was spoiled a bit. I've arranged for it to be delivered to your hotel room. Go check anytime.”

Maybe if the chance that it was just some stupid tight bracelet laying in his VIP bedroom to remind him about all the chains Aventurine didn't freed from but switched material of which was high enough, then he wouldn't even bother to get up and finish the game. But for some reason this moment didn't seem quite suitable for any chances and bets.

“Oh, it's okay. We call it even, then - cause, pardon me, I'm too curious now to see what my dear friends decided to prepare for their humble Aventurine.” — Shoving himself away from the green table, he didn't even bother to collect win chips and redeem them back for currency.

Brisk stride drove Aventurine straight to the elevator, yet it seems he left not only prize money but also his stomach on the casino floor: elevator went up - something plummets in his insides. They never were really kind with him. Although regular reminders about Aventurine’s past keep him on toes - maybe it was a kindness in some way.

Door to his room was locked - how did they get inside? Bribed employees? There are many things a guy with minimum wage would do for a few coins - slipping a box or something inside someone's hotel room with duplicate keys wasn't the worst, probably. Yet as soon as Aventurine opened the bedroom, all the guesses were blotted out by sudden rustling.

Gloved hand flick the light on, and sound repeated - this time certainly with metallic echo - coming behind the other side of the bed.

“Is my gift alive? If so, I'm certainly not ready to have any pets..” — With a chuckle, Aventurine circled the bed, preparing to see something striking and painful that reminds of his past, or perhaps his home planet. Maybe these fuckers managed to bough a sand fennec that lives only on Sigonia.

But as his path drew a half a circle around the bed, he stopped.

Fucking hell.

Oh, how naive he could be! Thinking someone like guys who probably are still sitting in the casino and laughing their asses off, would think small and cheap!

Scantily clad, with arms and legs in metal chains. Is this their idea of wrapping?

“I'm sorry, didn't mean to call you like that.” — Gently kneeling on one leg - a rare sight, but his bespoke pants would endure the fur of a rug in an extraordinary situation - Aventurine tilted his head, not touching the trembling figure a few meters away from him. He knew better. — “These jerks send you here?”

Through these long years, Aventurine learned psychology and knew how to be so winning and appealing, yet not this knowledge helped him get you to talk - but shared experience does. In a slow, long hour of careful questions and small stories - because there's no trust in a chat without equivalent exchange - he learns enough about you, and about the way Jack paid for some cleaner to lock you there, and about how long you've been in these chains.

Of course there was no key near you - it's probably still hanging in the keychain in the pocket of one of the men down on the lower floor. They want Aventurine to get back and to ask about it - cause both they and he knew he wants you free - just to see quite an emotion on his face. Not like humiliation would hurt him that much, he's more worried about what to do with you after.

Luck kissed his forehead and blessed him with a hell named IPC, good enough for someone to even call it heaven, but Aventurine sure he couldn't bring you there on the same terms. And just unlock your chains and free you? All the paths he, as a slave, had in front of him - besides IPC - were even more revolting. To think you would need to survive on the streets on your own, without metal chains but with the weight of cold and hunger on your shoulders that would be equal to collar tugging you to sell yourself in dark alleys... No.

Aventurine didn't know but it seems his heart was as big as his wallet - cause no matter how expensive it would be to rehabilitate your life, he would invest. He just needs to make sure you wouldn't feel the need to pay back, and that's the problem - it's hard to wean someone off from a habit he can't shove away from himself too. One slave helps another to adapt: the irony some authors would thrive to write about in poetic books.

But the evening is still young and all these thoughts and questions only begin to bloom - Aventurine has enough time to discuss them all with you, and maybe warm his way into your heart a bit more.

[skarsjoy]

New live event!

Apple TV+’s Murderbot: Advance Screening and Alexander Skarsgård in Conversation with MTV’s Josh Horowitz (Happy Sad Confused podcast)

get tickets - 92Y

Streaming tickets are for the Talk only. They do not include the screening. Talk begins at approximately 8:40 pm ET.

Emmy Award winner Alexander Skarsgård joins MTV’s Josh Horowitz for a conversation following a special screening of the first two episodes of his new comedic sci-fi thriller series, Murderbot, premiering May 16 exclusively on Apple TV+.

Based on Martha Wells’ bestselling novels, Murderbot follows a rogue, budget-priced security construct who must hide its free will to complete a dangerous assignment. But all it really wants to do is binge futuristic soap operas and figure out its place in the universe. An action-packed sci-fi series and a shrewd satire of the internet age, Murderbot is anchored by a hilariously deadpan performance by Skarsgård.

Hear Skarsgård discuss the making of the show in a live taping of Horowitz’s Happy Sad Confused podcast — how he prepared for the role, why great sci-fi is always a commentary on the present, stories from the set, and more.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 39

Oh I am going to love this arc.

We're now at the sixth floor, the subterranean canals. When the party first traveled here, the level was hot, but now it's freezing cold.

There have been comments all throughout their journey that the dungeon has been shifting and it seems like the shift is more extreme the further down they go. The third floor was the first one that anyone commented on, and it seemed like the layout only changed enough that maps had to be redrawn. Meanwhile the fifth floor changes constantly. Hopefully the sixth floor doesn't also have the whole layout constantly changing thing.

There was no commentary on the fourth floor changing though. Maybe since it's a water level, actually trying to move things would cause flooding so it's left alone. If the sixth floor is a canal, it might also be best to not alter it.

For now, the party is going to look for where they lost all their gear. Does this mean Laios is going to recover that shield he was using in chapter 1? And I hope Marcille finds that soap she lost.

Some discussion about Delgal. I'm still hoping to find out if the Winged Lion was a figure before Delgal or not. When Marcille mentions inscriptions about him, there's a lion head with Delgal's name inscribed, so that should imply the lion was a thing at the same time as him. But considering the magician's obsession over Delgal, it's possible all the random inscriptions were made AFTER the kingdom turned into a dungeon.

But yeah, this chapter confirms that Delgal was the one who gave the offer of the kingdom when the dungeon was first discovered. He's dead and his soul is no longer in the dungeon. Depending on how effective that resurrection Marcille used is at resurrecting someone, maybe the magician might try using something like that if he ever finds out.

Laios actually remembered the stuff he saw in the living pictures. And he also managed to infer the magician's motivations based off that. Laios sucks at socializing and picking up cues, but he's not dumb. He can connect the dots when they're all laid out before him.

Some elf lore. They can live to about 500 years and there are records implying they lived longer. ...Poor Marcille. She's going to outlive the others by a gigantic margin.

I want to know what Marcille was saying but its getting drowned out by Senshi's lack of understanding or interest.

Who's hand does that belong to? No one in the party wears that gauntlet.

Now we get to the fun part. The party escapes the blizzard, Marcille conjures a light source and...

I really need to point out a bunch of details leading up to this moment that makes this so much better. First, and most obviously, when the party grabbed each others' hands in the blizzard, we never saw two people in the same panel. The clones had been made during the storm and as far as anyone was aware, they were holding the hands of the real companions.

Second, before the lights come on, everyone's voices are coming from different directions. Once we know what's happening, it turns out several copies were responding to Laios.

Third, Marcille covered her head during the blizzard. So no one would have been able to see what her hair looked like at the moment the fakes were made.

But still, none of the clones are wearing that gauntlet of the person Marcille was holding hands with. For a moment, I thought it looked like something Shuro would wear but he doesn't wear it either. I'm sure I've seen it somewhere.

I would hope Laios's story of shapeshifters is just a story. Or at the very least, they were only hunting sheep. If their disguises are based on peoples' recollections, it would be easier to hunt sheep than people most likely. A shepherd with 100 sheep probably isn't going to remember every unique feature of the sheep.

For simplicity sake, here's how I'm going to address everyone going forward. From left-to-right, top-to-bottom from this image:

F1 Laios

F2 Laios

F3 Laios

Laios

F1 Marcille

F2 Marcille

F3 Marcille

Marcille

F1 Chilchuck

Chilchuck

F2 Chilchuck

F3 Chilchuck

Senshi

F1 Senshi

F2 Senshi

F3 Senshi

I'd seen images of F2 Marcille from the anime and I always thought it was an edit based on the "Handsome Squidward" face.

So we have the first round of Spot the Imposter. The party eliminates the three Laios clones and F2 Marcille. Then Chilchuck and F3 Chilchuck point out F2 Chilchuck and F3 Senshi's outfits are wrong.

I think it's worth pointing out that F2 Chilchuck helped Chilchuck point out which of the Laios's were fakes. So even though it would be in their best interest to sow confusion, the fakes are acting exactly like the real ones would which includes trying to figure out who the fakes are. The fakes probably don't know they're fake.

In the second round, everyone shows off their gear and the ones with obviously fake equipment are locked away. Funny thing is, F3 Marcille is the one who began the line of thinking leading to this suggestion and F1 Marcille, F3 Chilchuck, and F1 Senshi were the ones who suggested showing their equipment which ended up exposing F3 Marcille, F1 Chilchuck, and F2 Senshi as fakes.

So far the party has managed to eliminate most of the fakes because the fakes keep selling each other out. And in the case of F3 Marcille, selling themselves out.

Marcille points out how F1 Marcille's grimoire has several grammatical errors, but it's never mentioned that F3 Chilchuck's lockpicking tools are wrong. We get a detailed look at them in chapter 13 that we can compare.

The chapter ends with them about to go onto the final round. Everyone else will cook a meal and Laios will observe them and decide who is real based on their behaviour.

The others are not confident considering Laios didn't realize he'd encountered the magician, or picked up on Shuro's feelings, or remembered where he'd met Kabru.

But really, that shouldn't matter. Laios doesn't have to realize a stranger is a specific person, understand anyone's feelings, or recall memories. He just has to pay attention to what the party is doing now and pick up on any behaviours outside the norm.

So who made what? The fakes are based on everyone's thoughts of the others so each of the fakes is what they look like in everyone's minds. I'm going to take a shot at guessing which fake was made by which person and when the arc is done, I'm going to look up the answer and talk about the implications.

Laios

His Chilchuck and Senshi were already stated to be F2 Chilchuck and F3 Senshi. They're very close to correct, but Laios missed trivial details like thinking Chilchuck wears a scarf or Senshi's helmet having holes in it. Along that train of thought, I'm going to guess that he made F1 Marcille. He doesn't remember exactly what her hair looked like before this, but he had a general idea how it was laid out. He also has been learning magic so he'd know enough about what the contents of her grimoire looks like to make a convincing fake.

Marcille

I'm basing this entirely on her being a long-lived species and how she interprets everyone else based on their given age. Back in chapter 13, she called Chilchuck a kid when he said he was 29. So I think F3 Chilchuck and F2 Laios are her creations since she'd see them as teenagers. Meanwhile, I think F1 Senshi is her creation as well for the opposite reason. She interprets him to be older than he actually is.

Chilchuck

Every time we got to see Chilchuck's internal thoughts on the party, it's never flattering. So I'd guess he created the dumbest and goofiest looking fakes, F3 Laios, F3 Marcille, and F2 Senshi. F3 Marcille doesn't have any obvious hints to being stupid, but her grimoire is very much wrong, and Chilchuck doesn't know a thing about magic. It also has the line "Spell to turn back time", which is something Marcille was looking for in front of Chilchuck in chapter 33. The word "turn" was also misspelled and crudely corrected, implying F3 Marcille is not as smart as she acts.

Senshi

He has not been with the party for long. And he doesn't pay much attention to anything that doesn't have to do with cooking. So his mental image of the party are probably closer to caricatures rather than their real selves. His internal thoughts on their looks are probably something like "Laios is tall and he is pretty strong. Everyone says the elf-girl is pretty, but I don't get it. Chilchuck is a little baby who I must protect and nurture." Therefore, I think he made F1 Laios, F2 Marcille, and F1 Chilchuck.

back

[anonymousboxcar]

TTTE Headcanons: Engines’ TV Habits

This is pretty goofy, but I’m thinking about what sorts of TV the engines might watch if they had a TV or a streaming device in their sheds. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far!

—————————————

Henry loves nature shows, of course. In addition, after his fireman lamented his spilt hot cocoa, he wanted to understand why humans care so much about food. This led him to cooking shows, which he found very relaxing. He likes to watch raw, disparate ingredients become something beautiful and complete.

Edward goes for mysteries — lighter, cozier shows like Midsomer Murders, Rosemary & Thyme, and Murder, She Wrote. He’s also a fan of Granada Studios’ 1984 Sherlock Holmes. It tickles the same part of him that enjoys ghost stories, giving him a slight thrill alongside a pleasing mind-teaser.

Gordon watches the news every morning and evening. He likes to feel up-to-date on important events, expounding on them to his colleagues. Any program about opera and orchestral performances also appeals to him. There’s some snobbery involved, but he does enjoy hearing and learning about musical genres.

James likes game and talent shows, often shouting answers and opinions at the TV. He’s so attuned to these shows’ editing that he’ll guess a season winner, set up a betting pool, and rake in all the favors after the finale with a smug grin. (Gordon and Henry only keep placing bets because they want to show him up someday.)

All three big engines indulge in the guilty pleasure of soap operas. They think nobody else knows about this. Pip and Emma “obliviously” intrude on their watch parties to make them squirm.

Thomas and Percy watch ghost hunting shows together. They scoff at the idea of ghosts, accuse each other of being ‘fraidy-cats, and huddle close in fear as an episode progresses. They also watch late-night airings of schlocky films with Toby, whose sly commentary cracks them all up.

On his own, Thomas watches motorsport broadcasts. Bertie hooked him on it not long after they started racing each other. He’s a fan of some F1 drivers and their cars, often comparing notes with Bertie in serious (and sometimes heated) discussions.

Percy has a soft spot for period dramas. He’ll laugh at historical inaccuracies, get invested in all the characters, and ponder common tropes. He’s not afraid to ask about the servants who have to endure the wealthy protagonists’ dramatics.

Toby doesn’t watch much TV outside of what he sees with Thomas and Percy. However, he and Henrietta are partial to some late-night talk shows. If the show’s interviewing someone they’re interested in, or if they think the host is funny, they’ll give an episode a try.

Duck adores How It’s Made. It’s very satisfying for him to watch a bunch of moving parts at work, slotting pieces into their rightful places to assemble something. Other nights, he watches travel shows. They explore locations all around the world, scratching his itch to see what’s beyond his horizon.

Donald watches stand-up comedy specials, going for a good laugh at the end of the day to decompress. Ever since Duck “gifted” him Dilly, he also watches nature programs and shows about training/caring for pets. (He and Dilly are working on some tricks.)

Oliver picks sci-fi shows, with Star Trek and Doctor Who as his favorites. He’s drawn in by the pulpy adventures, moral dilemmas, and complex protagonists. It all makes him feel better about himself: you can mess up on an astronomical scale, but still be capable of good things. You don’t have to be a perfect hero to be a good person.

Douglas enjoys shows about antiques and vintage items — things in the vein of Antique Roadshow, or American Pickers. He’s a sucker for knickknacks that meant something to someone, for all the stories behind each one, and for their loving restorations.

Bill and Ben think fitness shows are hysterical. They’re forever amused by the odd ways the instructors contort their bodies. But they also scheme for their crews to watch these shows, hoping they’ll participate and stay healthy for years to come.

Daisy’ll watch any program about fashion or body art (tattoos, piercings, etc). Being so attentive to her swerves, she’s curious about the ways that humans adorn themselves. She’ll sometimes take inspiration from what she sees, but she’ll always argue that fashion is an art form, pointing to these shows for examples.

——————————————

What are your guys’ thoughts/headcanons? I’d love to hear them!

[justforbooks]

America Elected A Man Who Said ‘Grab Them By The P***y’.

The way Donald Trump talks about women when everyone can hear — or read on Twitter — is pretty offensive. Imagine what he’s like in private.

A released secret video from 2005 captures it. Here’s what Trump says about the norms of being a famous man: “They let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ’em by the pussy.”

The recording, obtained and published by the Washington Post, is from a day when Trump made an appearance on the soap opera Days of Our Lives. Trump is talking to Billy Bush of Access Hollywood, and the audio is caught on a hot mic.

The recording starts partway through Trump telling a story about hitting on an unidentified woman — unsuccessfully. “I did try and fuck her,” Trump said. “She was married. I moved on her very heavily. In fact, I took her out furniture shopping. … I moved on her like a bitch, but I couldn’t get there and she was married.”

Then, Trump said, he saw her again: “Then all of a sudden I see her, she’s now got the big phony tits and everything.”

Moments later, Trump notices Arianne Zucker, the soap opera actress who would later escort him and Bush to the set. Bush calls her “hot as shit.” Trump jokes that he should “use some Tic Tacs” in case he starts kissing her.

“I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait,” Trump said. “When you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do anything.”

This isn’t necessarily new territory for Trump. An affair while he was married broke up his first marriage. In appearances on The Howard Stern Show, he frequently rated women based on their looks and desirability. In the office, according to the New York Times, his employees were subjected to “endless commentary on the female form.”

Trump might consider the most embarrassing part to be that his pursuit of a married woman was unsuccessful. In his books, he frequently depicted himself as sexually irresistible, claiming that all of the women on The Apprentice flirted with him and saying that married women had thrown themselves at him.

But the secretly recorded remarks aren’t just significantly more vulgar than his radio appearances — they demonstrate that, at the very least, Trump was willing to leverage his power to get sex.

Even more unusually, though, the video prompted a rare apology from Trump. “This was locker room banter, a private conversation that took place many years ago. Bill Clinton has said far worse to me on the golf course — not even close,” he said in a statement to the Washington Post. “I apologize if anyone was offended.”

Trump is clearly eager to discuss Clinton’s extramarital affairs. But this could be the first time during the campaign that he has apologized for anything at all.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[novelhater]

finished a memory called empire by arkady martine

i've (badly) drawn a graph mapping my enjoyment of this novel over my progress through it:

the cliff moment is when the adrenaline/confusion bubble burst and i finally had enough facts to form a clear and sober picture of the whole situation. at which point i went, "hey, wait a minute. this social commentary isn't very good, is it?" even so, i wanted to make the point that i never really hated the book. the dip i took into dislike was purely because i was bitterly aware of how quickly my opinion of it had fallen and i didn't enjoy that feeling.

spoilers from here on out. also this post is long (and could probably be several thousand words longer if i cared to spend the time).

to start with, the worldbuilding is immediately dazzling - both in the sense that it is well done and the sense that it is blinding/obfuscating. the characters would appreciate this double meaning.

this book is deeply interested in linguistics, narrative, and the way those two things construct culture and identity. i am hugely into these themes so i was pretty immediately delighted. the discussions surrounding translation felt real and interesting. i wanted to know more. i wanted to read the books and poems that were referenced and i wanted to watch the cheesy movies and soap operas. even better, occasionally the novel actually delivers on this desire! for example, in teixcalaan (the titular empire), messages are encrypted using poetry. that's not just hypothetical. martine actually writes some encrypted poetry. some of it is even like. decent.

which is rare. it scares me so bad when novelists start writing in verse. it tends to be awful which is bad enough but then the characters will all react to it like 'woooowww that was soooo goooooood' which is even worse.

the poetry in this book isn't ALWAYS good (one gets tired of the flower metaphors pretty quickly), but it's not embarrassing. and that is a bar a LOT of novelists do not clear.

it's also a political intrigue novel, which i love. the reader is immediately plunged into a confusing culture alongside the protagonist, mahit, who has no idea what's going on, who she can trust, or what her late predecessor has been up to. and i love that shit. i love not knowing what the hell is going on, but with 300+ pages to promise me i am eventually going to find out.

i don't typically read sci-fi so i'm trying not to be like... "reader who has only ever read the 'the left hand of darkness' says about second sci-fi novel ever read 'this is giving me a lot of 'the left hand of darkness' vibes'" but i think they really do have a lot in common and it's hard to imagine that martine wasn't influenced by le guin. most obviously because of the surface level diplomatic intrigue aspects but also because they both revolve around characters who are foreigners in a foreign land, confused and repulsed and afraid and, to cap it off, intrigued despite themselves.

that being said, this book lacks the profundity of the left hand of darkness. which is an extremely high bar to reach that i wouldn't expect from most books except that this one echoes it so much that comparisons become unfortunately, unfairly inevitable. which isn't to say that it totally lacks meaning.

the protagonist, mahit, is deftly crafted for the role she plays. ordinary and out of touch, she is constantly under threat of being swallowed by the politics and culture of the empire. yet she resists total consumption even as she teases at surrender. that is to say, she both resists consumption and fails to assimilate, and her feelings about this dual state of non-being are, appropriately, at once triumphant and disappointed. by virtue of standing in this strange cultural threshold, she shines through as the most compelling character in the novel, even when compared to more mysterious figures like yskandr. the other characters are also at their best when they resist consumption or fail to assimilate - when they do things they shouldn't.

which makes for a really interesting situation where everyone is vying for the power to make themselves and their perspectives into the normative one, but the very position of BEING normative renders them uninteresting and thus narratively dead - the sitting emperor case in point. and all this within a society that prizes poetry and narrative and literary allusion as a mode of communication and identity. it's a neat little interlocking puzzle.

at one point mahit thinks:

Maybe she'd get to come up with her own opinion. That felt frightening, and a little exhilarating, as a possibility.

and that's a pretty good summary of both the plot and the tone of the novel.

however....

(we have arrived at the bubble burst)

...that's basically it?

like, okay. this is a book about empire. it's in the title. it's a book about an empire that treats manifest destiny like a moral imperative. yet it has curiously little to say about what that means for anyone living in that reality. all of the political intrigue that occurs is about which specific individual is holding the reins. there are hints of 'anti-imperialism,' but no in-depth explorations of what that might mean or why a citizen of the empire might have anti-imperial leanings outside of a general anti-authoritarianism as expressed via subway graffiti (and maybe bombings? of deeply indeterminate motive).

here and there are the START of ideas - for example, prosthetics are apparently a taboo in teixcalaan culture (this is told to us in a SINGLE sentence what the fuck). for example, there are obvious shades of classism at play when three seagrass expects that she will be allowed to walk out of what is essentially a police blockade after a BOMBING purely due to her social status. for example, there are underlying themes of racism and eugenics, as exemplified by mahit making an off-hand comment about lighter skin being rare in the city because people there don't find it a desirable genetic trait to breed for (essentially; i'm paraphrasing). yet none of this is really explored or critiqued with much depth at all. it's just. mentioned. and then it vanishes into a burst of adrenaline as the next immediate, burning threat cusps the horizon.

nobody ever seems to express any real political views or desires. what specific policy or structural changes do people want? although there are references to anti-imperialist factions, there is no discussion of what they want to replace the imperial government with or if they want to change it at all and not just change the decore, so to speak. certainly they don't seem to be any more progressive in regards to colonialism - in mahit'a extremely brief encounter with a group of anti-imperialists, they are hostile and xenophobic. in fact, the only people in the novel who are LEAST xenophobic appear to be those with the most power and the most interest in maintaining the status quo of empire and colonialism.

ultimately the political desires all seems to boil down to 'war' or 'not war,' but even behind that is just 'war is my excuse to take power' and 'peace is my excuse to maintain power' and 'we are the helpless mob of citizenry who have been tricked into backing this particular position by nefarious career politicians. let's riot!' even the two primary side characters - three seagrass and twelve azalea - help mahit without it ever really being made clear WHY. mahit's motivations are obvious - to protect her people and figure out what happened to her predecessor and to, well, not die - but the other two dive pretty quickly into borderline seditious activity and their only expressed reason ever seems to be because 'it seems like fun.' and also, inexplicably, 'because we like you mahit.' they have known each other for One Week. you guys really don't have opinions about what's happening? really??

i mean, they do, and that opinion seems to be, 'riots are bad, let's preserve the status quo instead of having violence. which is bad.' which is just about the most boring, centrist stance it is possible to have, particularly if you are an important character in a political intrigue novel.

and then there's mahit. mahit starts off enamored with the empire and ends the novel enamored with the empire. but also, like, a bunch of people have tried to kill her and/or basically called her a non-human to her face, so she'd like to go home for a little while, thanks. that's all, folks!

i think the last thing i will say specifically about the social commentary is to point at the second rise in my graph. there's a moment when the emperor goes on live broadcast and starts talking and everyone is like *gasp* oh no! he's going to do it! and mahit is like oh fuck what is it??? what's happening??? and i sat up in interest because i thought he was going to rip off his mask of benevolence and do something deeply revealing of the selfish, destructive mindset he embodies as the eighty-year ruler of the 'COLONIALISM IS GOOD' empire. instead all he does is commit an act of extreme self-sacrifice so that the good guy career politicians can defeat the bad guy career politicians.

ho hum.

i feel like i have to re-emphasize that it's not an awful book. it's fine! it's just. well it's just not the left hand of darkness, you know??????

and speaking of the left hand of darkness - the romance between mahit and three seagrass is pretty boring and predictable. but even as i read it and was aware of it i simultaneously felt a broader (more important) existential glee at the fact that a romance between two women could ever be...so routine. it felt like one of those boring het romances where you know they're gonna end up together even though you don't really think they have much chemistry. which is beautiful! i'm glad we've entered an era where that kind of thing can happen to lesbians.

okay compliment sandwich we will return to that upward climb in the graph. so much of this novel really is an adrenaline rush of trying to figure out what's happening and why. it's a LOT of fun. i gasped out loud a couple times as new information came to light. i was desperate for yskandr to appear and to find out who was behind all these variously successful and unsuccessful murder attempts.

the problem is that once the fireworks end and the dazzle fades and the show comes to a close, what you're left with is breathing smoke while sitting on wet grass in the middle of a muggy, mosquito-filled summer night. and then you think about what traffic's gonna be like on the drive home and you kind of just wish the fireworks had kept going. you know what i mean?

i'm not good at metaphors or compliment sandwiches. compliment triple stack! i love the naming conventions of [number] [noun]. i got so used to it that i started to have snobbish opinions about names just like the book characters. *sniffs* eleven conifer is so pedestrian. you can tell just by seeing the name that he's a cannon fodder.

[wifeglor]

What’s the most surprising smut pairing you’ve written?

Share a DVD commentary on Scripts and Tongues?

Share a smut rec for Maedhros.

thank you so much for the asks! 💖

13. What’s the most surprising smut pairing you’ve written? 

I think at this point, Gandalf/Círdan! I told a friend on the phone that I was going to write that pairing a couple months ago and was cackling at her reaction. Otherwise, maybe Daeron/Thingol (and thank you for your support of both of these!) Both are the only smut fics for these ships in their AO3 tags, so I guess I'm happy to feel like they fill some kind of niche!

22. Share a DVD commentary on [one of your smut fic/smutty scene from a longer work]. (Scripts and Tongues, the aforementioned Gandalf/Círdan)

Heheh. So this fic was born of 2 things basically: a past discussion with @searchingforserendipity25 that set up Gandalf/Círdan as A Ship in my mind, ft. beach imagery, and then my preparing to write some things for smut week and having the VISION implanted in my brain of like "sex joke featuring 'I'm missing your STAFF'". And then I thought it'd be charming to have this sexting take place sometime around LotR, in familiar events--I wasn't at first decided when and where, or if it might be like a "throughout FotR" kind of thing, or in Moria, but, I'm rereading LotR quite slowly now on audiobook and so had the episode of Gandalf recounting at Elrond's Council his research in Gondor's library on the brain. Initially, I wasn't settled on that setting/moment but the more I wrote it (and the more innuendos I could work in related to it) I quickly decided I was keeping it. :D I'd thought initially I might write a longer, sexier scene, but realized I liked it as a briefer piece just moving into the sexier part, focused on the part I was most excited to write and share (the sexting).

Also, I'm honestly full of thoughts about them now: in my head there's like a dramatic whole soap opera thing where Gandalf arrives in Middle-earth and is perhaps greeted with a little skepticism from Círdan (who instantly sees he is a Maia and who's already lived thru like the whole First Age, drowning of Turgon's and his own mariners, sinking of Beleriand etc), vs. Evil Rivalmance smooth-talking Love Interest/Ex Saruman, Círdan coming to trust Gandalf and give him Narya as a token of MARRIAGE um trust, becoming snarky yet relied-upon confidants and then naturally boyfriends, Saruman very personal inevitable yet slay betrayal, later angst and hurt/comfort (pain when the osanwe bond is severed as Gandalf 'dies' and returns??), seaside retirement and coming to know Gandalf's Maia form in Valinor after they sail... IDK IDK. There's so much there and I'm coming to have a lot of feelings about Gandalf as a character. I wish I wrote faster and had the motivation to do some kind of 50k longfic old man yaoi for them; I doubt that will happen but I hope you can imagine and experience for yourself the beautiful vision that it would be.

23. Share a smut rec for [character]. (Maedhros)

Oooh okay. I'm going to share just a few of my favs from across time and space...

Maedhros/Maglor:

Do Not Bait Me With Your Laughter by The_First_And_The_Last - SEARINGLY HOT times in Valinor ft. slightly dubcon Maedhros seduction of trans!Maglor. Absolutely formative!!

Hunting Time installment 2 by Divano_Messiah - Yes I did read this via googletranslate which makes some interesting choices, but the sheer poetry of this omegaverse series transcends language and culture. In this fic, Maedhros returns to the family home to realize Celegorm has taken advantage of Maglor, who is his own, and he restakes his claim. Just brilliantly indulgent, and contains the line "Nelyafinwe, are you fucking insane?" from Celegorm that rewired my brain about unhinged Maedhros potential.

No Pearls, No Feathers by dur - For something entirely different, rough and highly charged moments between Maedhros and Maglor in late stage Beleriand. This fic is packed with beautiful, weighty writing that really arrests you, making the reader feel and experience each second of this brief in time, yet SO POWERFULLY CHARGED and sexy scene with its rise and awful fall alongside Maglor. Really breathtaking, and Maglor thinking of Maedhros denting a goblet in his hand won't leave me ever now.

Maedhros/Fingon:

I already recommended Death and Taxes on another one of these asks, but...

Pantië by orphan account - Maedhros/Fingon, past Maedhros/Sauron - to this day the ANGSTIEST Nirnaeth fic to me even though it ends right before the battle itself. Maedhros' intimacy issues. Maedhros' control issues and desperate need to give up control. Sexy angst and manipulation all around, alongside and coexisting with this real, strong undercurrent of loving romance between Russingon.

Exchange of Favors by daphnerunning - this fic series I honestly read before I read the Silmarillion itself and it's meant so much to me, even as I've moved off in some interests! This installment is the sweetest, funniest, most intimate and tenderly charged Elves Roleplaying As Humans (Maedhros as Fingon's mistress). I love it so!

Maedhros/Thingol:

YEAHH babey secret sexiest ship of the book.

Guidance by iddump (and in fact the whole series that goes with this, but this is an incredible, soo sexy bite-sized version) - Thingol edging Maedhros while advising him (mentor to mentee... one lord to another...) on his correspondence.

Maedhros' Good Report Card by @imakemywings - fem!Maedhros as fem!Thingol's younger sugar baby in a modern AU. Being dommed so thoroughly and with such steady affection could probably fix everything wrong with Maedhros. I have to mention this one because fem!Thingol blew my mind this past week and I'm still reeling and recovering.

[aaronsrpgs]

On Finishing Lost in 2023, In an Alternate USA From the One Oceanic Flight 815 Was Headed Toward

I started watching Lost with a very treasured friend on August 6, 2022. She'd seen it multiple times before, including when it was first airing; she'd even gone to Hawaii and experienced a "Lost tour" where she got to see the sets.

I'd seen half an episode while drunk circa 2008 and knew there was a smoke monster, time travel, and a despised final season.

Watching the show with my friend was a great social experience, and the social experience seems like it'll continue as I encounter other people who have seen it. And I liked the show okay! Like, a solid B. I give the same grade to the final season and the final episode. Which brings some angry responses from some people I've talked to.

Spoilers for Lost below.

FLASHBACK People who watched the show as it aired often went to message boards to discuss theories and to conventions to ask questions of the writers and producers of the show. There is a feeling (from people I've talked to who were there) that promises were made: everything will be explained in the end.

And the show's many mysteries, catalogued on forums and fan sites, were NOT explained (the story goes). And so the show was ruined. END FLASHBACK

Before going any further, it might help to watch this video essay, "Annihilation and Decoding Metaphor" by Folding Ideas. Basically, he explains that some stories are metaphorical, and as such, they don't always make literal sense. (I'm doing the essay a disservice explaining it that way; go watch it if you have time.)

Lost works best when viewed this way, as a metaphor, and I was lucky to experience without the paratext of message boards, creator commentaries, and an enforced weekly timeslot across six years.

So what are the themes of Lost, and how does it use its components to explore those themes?

First, Lost is a Robinsonade. Like Robinson Crusoe, it puts a bunch of people on a (seemingly) deserted island to see what they do. Key to most Robinsonades are:

What do we bring with us (personal, material, and cultural)?

What do we leave behind (personal, material, and cultural)?

And from those questions, how do the enforced scarcities (lack of food, water, infrastructure, human company and social structures) keep us from building our idealized form of society away from the world? And how do our internalized notions of what society should be keep from enjoying a potential Eden?

Before it gets tied in to any metaplot about the history of the island and the other people on it, Lost is a cast of people who are deeply traumatized, usually by fathers, wealth, and a mix of the two.

John Locke is directly traumatized by his father, who is responsible for him being in a wheelchair. Jack is trying to please his hyper-competent, also-alcoholic father who is now dead, making him impossible to please. Kate's stepfather is abusive, and her real father is gone. Sun's father is a wealthy businessman/gangster who also holds sway over Jin (who has the only nice dad). Hugo's dad disappeared and only comes back when Hugo wins the lottery decades later. Desmond is in love with a woman whose dad thinks he isn't good enough. Charlie and his brother get too famous too fast in a band inspired by their patriarchal heritage. Michael is himself a dad, and often a bad one (an example of the show's ongoing bad portrayal of people of color). Boone and Shannon are part of a fucked up family. Claire's dad is missing, as is the father of the baby she carries. Woof!

(Sayid is the only one seemingly free of hangups about wealth and dads. This often frees him from the rest of the group's hangups, letting him solve problems that no one else could. He is instead traumatized by war and his role as a torturer; no one gets off scot free in a soap opera.)

And while the show initially seems interested in some of the material scarcities of living on an island (food, medicine, water), all of this is ameliorated by the start of season two, with mysterious shipments of food and a hatch full of living supplies. Lost is clearly more interested in the personal and cultural hangups of a Robinsinade, only occasionally using material scarcity to heighten those personal issues. This isn't a show about creating new foodways for a post-capitalist world. It's about fucked up people who may or may not want to become less fucked up.

So let's talk about that! Lost's island is magic. It heals the sick (John Locke and Rose prime among them), giving them another chance at life. It's also unstuck in space and time, and there are forces at work that keep people from leaving. So even if you don't want another chance at life, you're FORCED to try. You can't get home, back to the systems you're used to, so you either have to try something new or constantly work against the people who are building something on the island.

The people who have the hardest time with this are Sawyer and Jack. Sawyer, despite seeming like a rebel, is entrenched in his life as a con man, a life he initially pursued for personal vengeance. But now he's done it so long, he doesn't know how to do anything else. And Jack has spent so long trying to please his doctor father by becoming a perfect doctor himself, through constant discipline and eschewing personal relations, that he can't do anything else on the island; he seizes control and tries to be perfect at everything.

But the island is unrelenting at its insistence that you try again to become a better person. There is something at its core ("negatively charged exotic matter") that produces all these strange effects. A group of people, the Others, have been on the island guarding for thousands of years at the instruction of Jacob, who inherited guardianship from a strange and violent woman. He follows the tradition she sat down without question. She's kind of a dad in that way.

So here are a bunch of people fucked up by capitalism and the patriarchy. John Locke had offered his trust over and over back in the old world, and he always came out worse for wear (betrayed, eviscerated, paralyzed), but he is resilient enough to keep trusting. He wants everyone to live a beautiful life on the island. (He gets betrayed and killed for his efforts. More on that later.)

People being people, though, they continue to fuck up their new chances at life. They steal, murder, and betray. They break promises. That's one constant in Lost: whenever anyone takes a moral stand, they inevitably change their mind. When two sides are formed in opposition, the boundaries are always permeable, and people go back and forth. The characters are weirdly realistic that way, and they resist becoming metaphors; they're slippery.

Even the Others, promised to protect the magic and sanctity of the island, fuck up. Benjamin Linus, the man in charge (and son of a bad dad, and bad dad in his own right) is a weird hybrid of islander (believer in the power of the island) and outsider (wanting to harness the island). Even with everyone changing their minds constantly, he manages to switch sides the most. And the victim of this is John Locke, who decided to trust Ben just like he tried to trust everyone else.

John Locke was the person who most embodied the possibilities of Robinsonade, who had a new chance at life and wanted to give that gift to everyone else. But Benjamin Linus was too tainted by scarcity: if someone else got what the island promised, that meant he couldn't have it. He split the force that was so huge as to be unsplittable.

So when everyone's ruining the possibilities of a Robinsinade, insisting on returning to their own lives or bringing the worst parts of the world to the island, the island gives them another chance. It sends people back in time. It gives them more understanding of its possible powers. It shows them life back home so that they'll be ready to try the island again.

And then Lost shows us its foundation. It shows us Jacob and his unnamed brother, indoctrinated by a murdering woman who is as unwilling to share the island's power as Ben is. The unnamed brother seems clever, and he seems ready to learn how to share the island's power to free people from scarcity and tradition. And the murdering mother seems to see him as an end to her own trauma. But Jacob, who lacks creativity, gets jealous and throws the nameless brother into the negatively charged exotic matter (which we never see; we only see light).

Lostopedia says the brother becomes the smoke monster, an evil force that longs to escape the island, which Jacob insists will bring evil to the world. But it seems more like Jacob released the smoke monster or created it by committing an evil act, insisting that the island's power can't be shared, and using it to limit life instead of freeing it. The nameless brother dies. The smoke monster persists. This smoke monster goes on to influence Ben, who feels the same way about the island's power.

People are so fucked up, right?

And eventually, aggressively confident Jack becomes the new Jacob. He inherits the traditions that Jacob hands down and tries to do the same things Jacob does. But in the end, perhaps influenced by all the chances he's had at remaking his life alongside influences from John Locke and his other fellow castaways, he sacrifices himself to save the island, and he names Hurley as his successor.

At this point, Hurley is the only non-white member of the main cast who hasn't died. He's similar to John Locke in that he's trusting of people and sees the good in them, but he also had his life literally destroyed by wealth and fame. And now he's in charge of the island's power.

(Jack had to sacrifice himself because the island's power/light was uncorked by Desmond, who thought he would be "sent somewhere else" by doing so. Desmond, you shouldn't be somewhere else! You should be on the island building a new life! You abused the island's power. But like everyone else, you get another chance.)

The final season, instead of flashing back like most of the show, flashed "sideways." At first, it seemed like a parallel universe where everyone's life was different, less traumatic, from the start. In the finale, this is revealed to be a kind of purgatory where everyone went after they died. Another chance to get it right. Things are better than the main plot of the show, but things are still bad! But they get to find each other here without the trauma of crashing on an island, without going to war with the Others, and in doing so, they gain the benefit of those situations without causing those problems. And when they find each other, they get to move on into more yellow light. Maybe to a more permanent resting place, but probably to another iteration, where they try again with a bit more experience, a bit more help, and a lot less taint of capitalism and bad dads.

Some other random thoughts: we get to see Hurley in charge of the island in the epilogue, and he's not following the same rules. He isn't out preaching the power of the island, but people are a bit more free to come and go. Folks can get acclimated to the possibility of freedom, little vaccine boosters of freedom and magic against the ongoing diseases of society.

And what about the unsolved mysteries? The numbers?! I don't know. If we believe a series of numbers is important, we make note of them everywhere. We assign meaning to their repetition. But there are only ten numbers. Of course we see them everywhere. And each time we see them, we bring new meaning to them. Another chance to see ourselves. Another chance to get it right.

Or at least that's the meaning I brought to the show in 2023, when freedom from capitalism and bad dads feels both impossible and closer than it ever was.

[katgametable]

OX Guild Season 3: The Orbpocalypse Saga Episode 9: Fools of Engagement

Written 18 May 2025, shortly after relistening, having watched and listened previously.

The cursed, animated flatpack chairs are charging at the cursed compulsion-wine filled cauldrons. Johnny gives each of the four currently present Oxventurers control of their own cohort of chairs to roll for. They narrate various successes and failures, but the mob is just about ready to tear them apart. But who is this emerging? It’s Dob with Calm Emotions!

As the crowd are distracted by the one remaining cauldron, Dob is annoyed with them. Prudence never replied to his second Message (probably lost to Prudence’s loss of magic) which had important news. They catch Dob up on the Vocatus situation. Then Katie Pearlhead steps out to tell them Dob’s big news: they’re engaged!

The rest of the Guild are not thrilled. Dob talks about how he chased her, he caught up, they caught up, and they got close, and one night after talking to a lawyer about spousal inheritance rights, Katie proposed!

The sane Oxventurers huddle to discuss how bizarre it is. Prudence attempts Detect Magic, which obviously fails. Merilwen offers to try Dispel Magic.

Dob comes over and mollifies Corazon by offering to position of Best Man, along with the speech opportunity, at the wedding, and Egbert with the promise of a buffet. Prudence and Merilwen go to talk to Katie. Don being very wealthy comes up, and when Merilwen points out the loot is owned jointly, Katie reveals she and Dob moved the loot to a new lake that morning, which riles everyone. Dob suggests she go to the apothecary to replenish her poison supplies. Corazon steals a book from Katie, a foraging book with some dog eared pages on poisons.

A voice behind them says he thought engagements were meant to be happy occasions - Vocatus has appeared. Corazon tackles him, and combat commences. He summons wine over to form a sort of power armour over him, but the Oxventurers, Katie and Dunnican do a good lot of damage (including a failed attempt from Merilwen at forcing Vocatus to drink his own wine), before Dob casts Shatter on his groin (accidentally catching Corazon and Egbert in the process). Vocatus ends up writhing on the floor. Corazon demands Vocatus give Prudence her magic back, but he claims what he’s unleashed can’t be undone. He’ll need to steal magic from someone.

They huddle and Prudence mentions Liliana. Katie asks who Liliana is, and Prudence says she’s Dob’s other girlfriend - she’s really into Drama now. Dob confesses that he does have a hair of Liliana’s. Things get awkward with Katie and she leaves. Dob tells Vocatus Liliana’s name so he can steal her power, but it seems he was faking, as he Banishes himself.

Notes from pre-show podcast commentary: Andy has dice to hand so Jane can do the tagline. They’re a few days from their next live show and talk costume maintenance. Andy is heading to MCM a day early to check it out. Jane informs Andy of a Shrek-themed burlesque show coming to Australia. Andy is appalled but wants to see it.

Notes from post-show podcast commentary: Jane thinks this is the most soap opera episode ever. Andy explains why Corazon isn’t more concerned with the engagement. Jane complements the faces everyone made. They wonder what Katie’s motivations are. They had no idea that Katie would be returning. Andy bemoans their naivety in trusting Vocatus might help them against Liliana - he compares it to trusting Shoelacey in Watch Out. They talk a little about trusting the DM and read out some reviews. They finish up by talking about upcoming game videos.

Katie Pearlhead, what a character. What a reveal. That was incredible. I don’t remember exactly how I felt at the reveal, but I remember being absolutely certain she was going to poison Dob. I hope Luke comes on the podcast to talk about Katie; I don’t remember if he did.

Okay, the fight with Vocatus. The thing is, Vocatus is a Lesser Demon, or possibly just a jumped-up Greater Imp. And Prudence has (or had) the spell Summon Lesser Demon. So it’s not inconceivable (to me) that the Guild could actually beat him in a fight. Also, I had forgotten how they got from the party city to the next phase of the saga, which involves Liliana. I loved the deployment of Shatter, because of all the talk of Shattering groins in the levelling vid. The wine armour was ingenious, as was Merilwen attempting to make Vocatus drink. But him going after Liliana, that does not sound good.

But is dealing with that better than dealing with Katie?

[thecanadianreport]

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[cross-my-heartt]

This is an interesting suggestion but I'd still like to offer some counterarguments. Because I do believe that for all their flaws, one thing the prequels did right in terms of storytelling was Padme and Anakin's relationship.

Starting with the argument that young Padme and Anakin's relationship is completely socially acceptable. That I believe is the point of the story. Anakin has a very natural wish to start a family with a woman his age who he is in love with, and the point is that his being a jedi is preventing him from doing that. Anakin was a child who was brought into the jedi order at an age where he was too old to accept an ascetic lifestyle (which most jedi seem to have adapted to much better than him). His past experience and trauma made him a child who naturally sought out close connections for comfort so of course his relationship with Padme developed so quickly and was in a way, inevitable.

This inevitability and the bizarre way everyone around them seemed to ignore it is by itself an in world commentary on the way the jedi were perceived by much of the galaxy. Namely as infallible heroes who were above such things as 'impropriety', too honorable to fall to such temptations. And that attitude makes sense given the jedi's own complacency and reluctance to address the shortcomings of their order.

Padme's own willingness to fall into this relationship also makes more sense to me if she's younger. An older woman of her status would, in my mind, have much more experience with lovers and affairs. But the clumsiness with which she handled her relationship with Anakin I think underlines her inexperience and the fact that she's been denied many of the joys of youth (such as falling in love with a handsome chap and enjoying that experience) because of her career. It underlines just how unfair and unsettling the existence of child politicians is.

Back to Anakin, the films encourage us to both sympathize and criticize him and they do both pretty well. We sympathize with him because we feel like he's being denied the healthy relationships he so clearly needs in his life (which leads to a deprivation that pushes his relationship with Padme into the realm of the unhealthy, but that's a separate discussion) and yet he's not infallible because the thing about Anakin is that he could leave the order and choose a life with Padme, a normal socially accepted life, but Anakin doesn't want to. Anakin wants to have his cake and eat it. He wants to be a jedi knight, a jedi master even, and he wants to have both those lifestyles instead of compromising and choosing one.

And the thing is, in the scenario of a much older Padme, the questions surrounding that unusual relationship would overshadow the fact that he has two viable options to choose from. The audience would be more focused on the moral question of their age difference, the danger of the pregnancy, Padme's own role in encouraging the relationship, etc. and all of that would distract from the much more straightforward choice Anakin was presented with in the films. Sure it would be more dramatic and it would add an element of convolutedness to the plot but I don't think that's what the movies were going for.

The prequel trilogy was much more focused on 'larger scale' moral questions, it was a space opera rather than a soap opera, with a grandiose narrative in which the social drama was a vehicle for the larger narrative rather than the main focus. And shifting that focus would result in a fundamentally different trilogy.

As for the dangers of Padme's pregnancy and its outcome, I know this is still a debated topic but I think it's been established that 'she died of grief' is an oversimplification of canon. Admittedly, the excuse that Palpatine was behind it is a bit wonky but it still fits into the narrative. Love it or hate it, it's canon that Paplatine put years of planning behind the fall of the jedi and given just how involved he was in Anakin's life and orchestrating his fall, it's not hard to imagine that he factored Padme's death into it and would have taken steps to ensure it. It was too crucial to be left to chance so I can't imagine that he wasn't involved in it.

And finally, regarding Anakin's visions. This is another thing where I'd argue that was the point in canon. The way I see it Anakin's visions were meant to be perceived as paranoid. An older Padme would have thought twice about dismissing them but a young Padme doesn't take them seriously. Which is a running theme for Anakin. Just like the order dismissed his emotional needs, Padme dismissed his connection to the force and was unable to understand the difference between a nightmare and a vision. She has no way of understanding just how impactful these visions are for him.

Cue Palaptine, the only one who seems to truly understand Anakin here. The sympathetic presence who accepts his troubles and struggles, validates them and even extends a helping hand. All of this is crucial to the outcome of the plot.

An Anakin worried about his older wife miscarrying is a 'no duh' moment. An Anakin plagued by persistent inexplicable force visions of her death is much more sinister and explains the paranoid fearful state of mind he's in that Palpatine eventually exploits. It also makes his refusal to share his worries with the order more telling.

Again, if you're worried about your older wife miscarrying you go to a doctor. If you feel like the force is telling you about some inexplicable impending doom you go to the jedi for help... except that Anakin refused to go into detail about his visions because it would reveal his marriage and potentially get him expelled from the order. And he wasn't ready to let go of that. So he naturally chooses the shady option of trusting Palpatine, the only one that lets him keep both.

And finally, because this has already gotten quite long, the fact that both the audience and Padme perceive his visions as paranoid and implausible, make the fact that they come true part of the ironic poignancy of the ending. Padme's death was a self fulfilling prophecy. It was the result of Anakin's desperate attempts to prevent it. So adding an element of medical likelihood to it? idk, I personally feel like that would detract from it.

For better or for worse these stories were about Anakin's journey and less so about Padme. Making her older would push her story forward but ultimately it wouldn't be in favor of Anakin's.

Had Padmé been 20-30 years older than anakin instead of 2-3 it wouldve fixed a significant portion of the franchise, including padmé's own chracterization

[niobiumao3]

Havoc Marauder Interior

Someone made a post about this a while ago but apparently they de-activated so it is possibly lost to the mists of time. Here is what I put together for myself as a writing reference. Image heavy, meta heavy.

Last edit: 2024/10/29

Edits: Replaced garbage text layout with actual ship overhead. Realized the two concept art images face different directions. This likely explains the magical moving jump seats. Also added discussion of a cargo hold. Added discussion of ship dimensions (specifically length). Replaced old guesstimates with numbers from Dawn of Rebellion. Added commentary about the magical seat. Added comment about the belly airlock and updated the floor plan.

I think people under- and over-estimate the Marauder's interior potential. Given its overall size and intended use (transporting about 10-15 troops plus assorted equipment and providing air support in a forward area), there's not much room left for creature comforts.

Except the Batch aren't 10-15 people, they're 5, and the shuttle is referred to as modified numerous times. This leaves plenty of room to make assumptions and freeform. So, as to what we have actual, visual evidence for from episodes and concept art, here is a rudimentary floor plan:

An important point about the two concept art images: they do NOT face the same direction. The top image faces to the aft/back of the ship, i.e. the tailgun. The second image faces to the fore/front of the ship.

Number key:

1: We know this is where the ramp and door are located from War Mantle and Metamorphsis.

2: We know about this upper storage area from Cut and Run

3: The access to the tail gun has changed visual from TCW s07e02 and various TBB episodes.

4: Access to a floor hatch with a narrow, vertical 'airlock' can be seen briefly in Bounty Lost.

The Airlock

With thanks to @megmca for reminding me of this: there's a narrow, belly-hatch airlock. We see it briefly in Bounty Lost, when they attach to the escape pod Omega has commandeered and Wrecker brings her in.

For all of you wondering what airlock-access the ship has, this is it.

The Magically Appearing/Disappearing Seat

In Cut and Run we have this moment with Hunter and Omega, but in most other shots each of these consoles has only one seat (eg. Tech and Echo in prior frames). I think this is actually NOT a magically appearing seat. I think it's the other console seat, because I suspect they can be moved. I base this one this shot from Replacements:

That looks like a seat with a moveable base.

Obviously this is bad design for a ship which is doing barrel rolls and what-not, so I have to assume they're magnetically locked. Even if it is the same seat, in the shots right before that one above, Omega walks up and it's not in that space. So it's almost like the scene was longer and was shortened, and we missed a few frames of her or Hunter unlocking it and moving it over.

Meta Discussions

tl;dr: I think of the Marauder as a small fishing vessel or a van-conversion RV. You can put a lot into a small space if you get creative.

Bathroom I know the writers have made weird assertions there isn't one and omg they all smell gross from no hygiene but that makes zero sense. Soldiers are constantly under stress, they're getting injured, they need to stay clean when possible or they're going to get sick and die from a systemic infection in short order. Anyone who's glanced in the general direction of military history knows this. You can argue about clone expendibility all you want but the Batch minimally qualify in that regard, being Nala Se's pet project. Can you imagine losing one of them to a staph infection because there's nowhere for them to bust out some no-rinse antimicrobial soap or get their scalp clean? I'm not saying they'll be doing photoshoots in between missions (well maybe Hunter would ) but, come on. (And are you going to tell me Mr. Sensor Sensoria is cool with doing long hauls with 4 people who don't bathe? Just, no.)

But that much aside, anyone who's ever been in an RV, a commercial airliner, or a modest-sized sea vessel knows you can cram a bathroom into a tiny space. Yes, you're going to be spinning in circles doing things, but the benefits of a spot to clean up, manage waste, and tend to injuries far outweigh any other use of that area. So regardless of what the writers say, a transport without a minimal refresher (to use the SW term) is counter to the ship's designed use. It has to be able to accommodate Wrecker, of course, but in the end it can double as storage when not in use. There is zero reason to not have one. Added to this, we now officially have a length for the Marauder, which is 30.3 meters (see below). RVs which are 1/5 of that size have bathrooms. You're going to tell me the Marauder doesn't?

If nothing else, since the TCW episodes and the beginning of S1 have pointed to them going on extended deployments with long hops between stops, they're going to need one or constantly be handling waste in much less efficient and sustainable ways.

Added to all of this, it's specifically called a modified variant of an Omicron. We're probably meant to think this means 'Tech would like to fly faster than the GAR and ship engineers think is reasonable for a shuttle' but IMO it extends to changes like this as well. So, there's a refresher in there, feel free to choose a spot. Right across from the fold out racks is a good candidate because in most imagery it's just weapons storage, and there's an entire upper-deck space which you could use for that.

Galley Definitely not one of these. The Batch are eating rations any time they're not on Kamino. You can make an argument they (and all clone units) have cook kits for improvised eating in the field; in the Batch's case I suspect that's a given, as they'd just start doing it because who's going to stop them? Additionally, the sheer amount of rations you would need to carry around to feed Wrecker would be ridiculous. (Remember when Wrecker talks about never being full in S2E13? I feel like this is an indication they did and still do, in fact, have to improvise a lot of additional caloric intake. Hunter probably thought Cut and Suu's farm was a genius idea. 'Grow your own food! Wrecker will never be hungry again! Fucking incredible.' Then Tech got the ship impounded.) I think you can argue for one being added, like with the refresher. Do they actually need those weapons racks anymore? Definitely no. But, it's not on there by default.

Beds As you can see in the concept art above, there are at least 3 racks that fold out from the wall on the port side. They're at a minimum wide enough to accommodate Wrecker, they may also be long enough for him to not need to curl up (unclear because in this shot from Bounty Lost his knees are bent and he's hugging Lula):

Three is a weird number since originally there were four of them. I figure the options here are:

The pilot/copilot/second row seats all look 100% more comfortable than the racks. We actually see Tech sleeping in one, at one point, so this has actual evidence to support it.

It's war time, they're never all asleep simultaneously. Someone is always flying the ship or on watch.

The floor is in effect the same as a rack, arguably preferable as you can't fall off it in the event Something Happens while you're out. So, one of them might actually be ON the floor sometimes.

They're not really intended to sleep on the ship for extended periods, but narratively we're lead to believe they have, many times, and needed to make adjustments to it as a result. Notice how quickly Wrecker whipped up a bed for Omega? IMO, not the first time they've done something like that--they did it for themselves first.

Cargo Hold Based on that screenshot of Omega above and the below shot from Cut and Run, the 'hold' of the ship is actually a storage area overhead, running the length of the ship. In that shot above of the rack, there are a series of yellow rungs which imply you can climb up somewhere on the port side. This is probably alternate access to that same overhead storage space.

In Cut and Run we see Echo, Omega, and Tech hide in it, coming back out from a slide-open hatch:

Given Tech's height this is probably somewhere around 1.5m high.

We can be reasonably certain the hold isn't under the ship, or at least storage there is minimal, due to a couple of things:

In all instances where the hyperdrive has been pulled, it's under the ship on the belly, and takes up a reasonable amount of space. Eg., in Retrieval, here's a bunch of stuff which has been pulled from the ship:

In instances where they're working on the ship from the outside, like in Cornered, the sides and belly never have panels open which contain empty space unless the ship's hardware have been removed to reach something:

So, the cargo hold is probably that space on the top from Cut and Run. It doesn't have much room; reasonably speaking, the area with the weapons and sleeping racks was probably a cargo hold as well, they just converted it to a more general purpose area. (So IMO this is a stronger argument for putting a commercial airliner-style bathroom in place of the weapons racks, particularly once they bail on the Empire.)

Dimensions - updated 11/3/23 Dawn of Rebellion has a Bad Batch section, and indicates the Marauder is 30.3m in length, 36.65m wide (presumably with the wings extended, and 12.41m tall (this probably includes the central stabilizer).

I will edit this to update it as we get more pictures. Since the toys that I know of have no basis the show from an internal perspective I didn't include anything from them.

Image sources:

All screencaps by me. Use at will.

Marauder underlay

Bad Batch Concept Art, Marauder Interior

[blurredcolour]

If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part One

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: Your assignment as Austin Butler’s bodyguard, masquerading as his personal assistant, begins after your boss’s successful pitch in Palm Springs.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Threatening letters, Discussion of death threats, Firearms, Language, Vaping, Alcohol consumption, Body image issues, Rating – T.  

Author’s note: As stated on the series page, Austin Butler has an unnamed model girlfriend in this series. She is not based on anyone in particular, please do not interpret my descriptions of her and her actions as commentary on any real individuals in Austin Butler’s life.

Word Count: 4428

“…You think you were so very clever, you filthy satanist. That you got away with it. You should have let the dead stay at peace! God knows! God has seen you for what you truly are! A witch! A warlock! A necramanzer raiser of the dead. There is a special spot in hell reserved just for you, Austin Butler, and it is my god given, heavenly ordained duty to see you there right quick...”

You set the photocopied sheets down on your lap, knowing the letter continued on in the same vein for several aggressively written pages. The author had pressed the pen so hard into the paper that the letters made shadow-filled hollows and curled the pages. Hatred had been scribed into the very fibres of the looseleaf before being crammed into an envelope and sent to an actor you, like most of the world, had only a nascent awareness of.

The car took a tight corner, pressing you up against the muscled form of your colleague Marwan, and you quickly straightened with an apology.

“Don’t worry about it, but why are you bothering with those letters again?” He gestured to the black and white photocopies in your lap.

You shook your head with a sigh.

“I... some notion that they might help me to know them if I ever see them out in a crowd somewhere?” Your shoulders rose and fell beneath your simple navy blazer, a knee-length dress with an A-line skirt in a matching shade beneath.

“But we don’t even have the job yet…” Argued Trey from your other side and you huffed out a self-deprecating laugh because it was true, you were absolutely over preparing for a proposal.

“Don’t you dare go jinxing this for me, Treyvon.” The owner and operator of Lane Protective Services, Scott Lane, quickly rejoined from the front seat.

You smirked and elbowed Trey in the ribs for getting him started again. It had been a very long drive from Los Angeles to Palm Springs. While only two hours in time, it had stretched into weeks in experience the longer Scott expounded on the business theories he ascribed to. He had finally trailed off about fifteen minutes ago but was once again feeling the need to mount his soap box.

“Terrible as it is that this is happening, award season is the perfect time for us to work for one of the hottest actors for the year. The public at large will have no idea, but those who know, will know. Free advertising. More work than we can handle, that is what I can only dream of…”

You did your best to tune him out, feigning interest in the threatening letters before you once more. It wasn’t that Scott was a bad person, he was just a little blunt and monetarily focused. The rest of you, Ari the driver included, were in the business to help people. You had each acquired a unique set of skills through your life experiences that lent themselves well to standing between notable people and the threats against them.

You had grown up in a rural area, raised by a hunting family, giving you a familiarity and confidence with firearms. In the same vein, you had also been a highly energetic child and an early encounter with the sport of judo had proven to be a useful outlet for you. You were also born with an innate talent for it and had progressed quickly to the competitive level. There were serious discussions about pursuing Olympic level training, but you had seen what that had cost the professional athletes.

And so, when Scott had appeared at one of your college tournaments with a business card and an interesting proposition you had made the decision to get into personal protection. Lane Protective Services had guided you through the training and licensing processes, and this would, if Mr. Butler’s team accepted the proposal, be your fourth assignment with the company.

To everyone’s relief, Ari pulled into the parking lot of the hotel where the potential protectee was staying for a weekend of events, and where time necessitated Scott would be delivering the proposal. Trey slid out and held the door for you to follow him, and you stepped out into the sun with a grateful stretch. Sharing a backseat with two well-built men for two hours had been snug. You grabbed your bag from the trunk and followed the group up to the room Scott had optimistically rented for two nights.

It was his hope that you and Ari would be staying to immediately begin accompanying and driving Mr. Butler while Marwan and Trey returned to his home to begin setting up the protection detail headquarters and sleeping space in the guesthouse. After one final inspection of the group’s business casual attire, Scott led you back to the elevator and up a few floors to where the suites were located. His knock on the door was answered by a redheaded woman you recognized from the briefing file as Mr. Butler’s Manager and Publicist Kate Rosen.

The group was ushered in, and Scott set up his slide deck on his laptop, giving you the proposal booklets to hand out. You swallowed back your sigh at the fact that he was delegating that to you, the only woman in the group, and you passed one to Kate. You glanced to see if Mr. Butler had joined you just as he stepped over the threshold from the bedroom into the sitting room. You had worked with celebrities before. Breathed the same air as many of them before. But the tall, long-limbed, tanned man in a suit and white button up, with maybe half of the buttons fastened, who appeared before you still selfishly stole all the oxygen from your lungs.

Silently, you waited until he had assumed the empty chair beside Kate before offering the booklet to him and going to stand beside Ari. Ari who had shot you a look with both eyebrows raised that you deliberately ignored. Turning your attention to Scott as he began to speak allowed you to breathe again. You listened patiently to the well rehearsed presentation which centered on you acting as Mr. Butler’s personal assistant for as long as it took the various law enforcement organizations involved in the investigation of the threatening letters to resolve the issue.

“She has a 7th-dan black belt in judo, is fully trained in close quarter fighting as well as tactical firearms, and has a multi-state, non-resident concealed carry permit.” Your eyes drifted to your shoes as Scott reached your list of selling points, finding it all-together awkward to be summed up by your achievements.

“Wait…are you armed right now?” A soft, resonant voice that tasted like honied whiskey interrupted Scott’s litany of your achievements and you raised your head to look at the man who had posed the question.

“Yes Mr. Butler.” You nodded politely.

You watched as he tilted his head, looking over your outfit. “But where?”

“A better question, Austin, would be why are we putting the smallest person in the room beside you the most? I recognize your argument about the optics and definitely want to keep this whole sordid thing out of the gossip columns but, what if the person threatening Austin is huge like one of these men? Are we not looking for overwhelming force?”

“An excellent question Ms. Rosen.” Scott looked to you and nodded. “Full force takedown of Trey please.” There was hint of glee in his voice, and you knew you were a device to provide payback for his earlier doubt of the success of this pitch.

Nodding once, you undid the button on your blazer, walking up to Trey before feinting at him. His response was to lunge forward, and you used his momentum against him, throwing him to the carpet in a perfected judo toss. You pulled your pocket pistol from its holster on your inner thigh, pressing it against the back of his head.

“Oh.” Came a quiet sound of realization from Austin as you answered his earlier question.

“Well then…” Kate cleared her throat and nodded.

You quickly holstered your firearm, having never released the safety, and helped the larger man back to his feet. Straightening your dress, you went to stand beside Ari quietly, once again looking at your shoes.

“Shall I proceed?” Scott asked cheerfully and continued his pitch after a few stunned nods.

He laid out the rest of the plan to have Ari take over as Austin’s driver and for Trey and Marwan to ensure security of the house and be on protective duty overnight. As Scott wrapped up, hands were shaken and your group headed back down to the room to wait, passing what looked like a football team in the hallway. Surely the next pitch. Scott’s idea was unique, you just weren’t sure if it was what they were looking for.

The wait was not long. Forty-five minutes later Scott got the call, confirming the contract. The group headed back up to finalize the paperwork, and you noticed that Austin seemed a lot more relaxed in the presence of Baz Luhrmann and his partner Catherine. It could also have been the glass of whiskey on the rocks gripped loosely in one hand, or the vape pen dangling from the fingers of his other. All they did for you was provide a distraction by pulling your focus to his plush pink lips as they took in the glowing amber liquid or exhaled plumes of sweet smelling vapour.

Hands were shaken again before Kate gave the keys to Austin’s house to Trey and he left along with Scott and Marwan in a rental car to make preparations. Ari went to have the town car the five of you had driven out in cleaned for the award ceremony that night and that left you to build a relationship with protectee. It would be crucial to keep him safe over the next while.

“If you’ll be my bodyguard, I can be your long-lost pal…” Baz sang in your direction, making you smile softly – after all, as far as most people would know you were a personal assistant, and stoicism would not suit that appearance at all.

“I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al!” Austin joined in, making you swallow thickly at the smooth, caramel quality of his voice.

“Baz, pleasure to meet you.” The world-famous directly shook your hand warmly as you introduced yourself in turn.

“No, no” Austin punctuated his statement with playful jabs of his vape pen and you finally became aware of the fact that he had button his shirt up the rest of the way and put on a tie. What a shame.

“I think that’s perfect. Betty. My personal assistant Betty.” He finished with a grin.

“Certainly, Mr. Butler, Betty is an acceptable cover name. Thank you.” You nodded.

“But you gotta call me Al, then.” He playfully pouted a little and you pressed your lips together to prevent too wide of a grin.

“I’m sorry Mr. Butler, I am not able to do that.”

“She can throw me across the room, but she can’t call me Al.” He teased, earning a chorus of laughter from Baz and Catherine.

Kate pulled you aside and took you through his schedule for the next few days – awards ceremony to start in two hours, after party, followed by brunch the next morning and then back to LA for a cocktail event.

“We’ll get you set up with the full thing later but for now, carry mine. Here’s the bag I use. He cannot walk the red carpet with his personal effects, they have a terrible habit of getting lost in all the hugging and interviews. I’ll have you carry them too, unless that interferes?” She looked to you with a tilt of her head, and you shook yours in response.

“Not at all, Ms. Rosen, I just might have to drop the bag during an incident.”

“Right ok…well I’ll pick it up then. That’ll be my thing during an incident.” She cleared her throat. “Scott said you would have a wardrobe? This looks good, blazers, dresses…if we go to the Oscars, they’ll want you in a gown but the rest this or a pant suit will do.” She nodded.

“I will call our wardrobe specialist when we get back in town day after tomorrow.” You nodded and she smiled in relief.

“Good…and you’ll keep him safe?” She looked into your eyes seriously.

“Yes ma’am, that is why I am here.” You replied earnestly.

“Good.” She beamed and bustled off to try and round up the trio who needed to get going.

As they finally made their way towards the door, you strode quickly forward.

“I will have to go first, is that all right?” You asked, quickly wedging yourself between Austin and the door as he reached for the handle.

“Oh uh, yeah, of course…” He nodded, pulling his outstretched hand back to rub the nape of his neck.

You offered a small smile and lowered your voice so that only he could hear.

“We’ll get better at this, Mr. Butler.” You nodded softly, smile widening as his stunning blue eyes met yours and crinkled at the corners.

“Yes, we will, Betty. Yes, we will.” He nodded warmly and gestured for you to proceed.

You nodded warmly and opened the door, doing a quick scan of the hall before stepping out, letting Kate hold the door and bring up the rear. Two town cars waited at the curb, and you led Austin over to where Ari stood holding the door open.

“I’ll sit up front.” You nodded to Kate and Austin, making sure they got into the back before sliding in beside Ari.

It felt somewhat silly to drive just two blocks over to the Palm Springs Convention Centre, but it was the ‘done thing’ and safer regardless. On the ride over, Kate gave you a crash course in how to be an assistant on a red carpet. Climbing out first, you surveyed the area as you moved to open Austin’s door before holding the bag open for him to hand over his personal effects. He smiled and squeezed your shoulder, and you could not help but notice the slight tremor in his hand.

“You’re going to do great, Betty.” He murmured and you nodded softly.

“You, too, Mr. Butler.” You tucked the bag on your arm before leading him up to the entrance to the red carpet and there your paths diverged.

You kept pace with him behind the row of reporters, noting the quickest path to him every few feet you moved towards the door of the building. You were reassured that Kate was permitted to be right up there with him and nodded to her every time her eyes sought yours. You barely knew the pair of them, but you could already tell they had a deep bond.

Inside the lobby, Austin retrieved his wallet, vape pen, and phone from your bag before heading inside to be seated. Kate spoke to one of the organizers who found you a space along the back of the room to stand, with a fairly good view of Austin. It was not ideal, and you would have a conversation with her about future ceremonies, but it would have to do for now.

A few hours in, however, you were starting to regret the heels. You would have a conversation with Shyla, the wardrobe specialist, about flats. Once Austin received his award, Kate came to lead you on a rather circuitous route to the press room where he and Baz were being hailed with camera flashes and questions from the assembled reporters. The two men were so very charismatic that it was tempting to allow them to distract you, but you found the professional fortitude to focus on the room, assess the threat, find the person who could not spell ‘necromancer.’

Once you were satisfied that individual was mostly likely not in that room, you were able to relax into a watchful patience. There was an afterparty before the very tipsy pair of men were herded back to the hotel. You made sure that Austin was safely in his room before retiring to the room you shared with Ari.

You used the steamer from the closet to smooth the wrinkles from your light gray dress and blazer from your bag to be ready for the brunch tomorrow. Locking your gun in the safe, you were nearly asleep by the time Ari returned from securing the car for the night.

Arriving at Austin’s suite at nine am, you sat down with Kate to go over the schedule.

“So, the hardest part for me was the separation during the ceremony. I am aware that it’s impossible for me to get tickets but is the back of the room really the best we have?” You asked carefully.

“Would it reassure you to know how difficult it is to get inside these things? Especially the rest of the ceremonies moving forward…Nonetheless I will see what I can do. Maybe you can have my spot for the ceremonies as long as I can remain nearby for the press moments. Stay tuned, ok?” She offered and you nodded.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“Oh no, call the authorities, what are you two conspiring about…” Austin rasped from the doorway behind you, making both of you turn to look at him.

You swallowed roughly as your eyes landed on his loosely tied robe, barely concealing his tanned skin with only his boxers underneath. The morning light glinted off the chain around his neck, highlighting the soft, golden dusting of hair across his chest.

“Good morning, Mr. Butler.” You said quickly and looked back to the schedule. “Thank you very much Ms. Rosen.”

“Austin, get dressed before you kill Betty. Brunch starts at eleven and I’m assuming you want some coffee?” Kate stood as Austin nodded. “Betty what’s your order, I’m going to Starbucks for the good stuff. We’ll send you in the future, I suppose, but you should get to know that boy…maybe you can teach him how to button his shirt.” She smirked and you bit your lip to hide your delight at her jibes.

Once she was armed with a full Starbucks order, Kate headed out, the door clicking softly in the silence in her wake. You turned back to the schedule in front of you, drafting an email in your phone for items you would need from both Shyla and IT. You looked up as the door to the bedroom opened again to reveal a fully dressed Austin.

“Better?” He drawled with a smirk, and you let out a short huff of laughter despite yourself.

“Yes, Mr. Butler.” You grinned and watched as he settled into a wide-legged seat on the couch.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, his long fingers stroking along his jaw, momentarily distracting you from his words before you managed a nod.

“Of course.” You replied as you moved to sit on the plush chair to his left, tucking the skirt of your dress underneath your butt before sinking into the cushion.

“Why does this person wanna kill me?” The voice asking that question seemed to come from someone much smaller and much younger than the man sitting beside you and you felt your throat clench.

“Well, I…I won’t claim to have any expertise in behavioural science, but it very much seems like an unstable person who has decided to fixate on your achievement.” You replied carefully, smoothing and pulling at the hem of your dress.

He exhaled slowly in response.

“They think I…summoned him from the dead or something?” He shook his head. “Makes me sad…”

“As far as I understand the police are making headway in the investigation. Hopefully, this won’t go on much longer and everyone can move on with their lives. And they can get the help they need.”

He nodded thoughtfully, those elegant digits of his moving to trace the contours of his lips.

“So where are you from, Betty? I want to get to know you…”

You smiled softly and happily indulged him, answering questions about yourself and posing them back to him in return. You were so ensconced in the conversation, that Kate’s return startled you a little. You accepted your beverage gratefully and retreated to the table as she moved in to go over his schedule with him for the day, which ended with the W Magazine & Louis Vuitton awards season dinner.

“So, we need to be in the car driving back to you house by three, ideally, to give you time to get changed and get you and your girlfriend loaded into the car and onto the next event.”

“Understood.” He acquiesced with an innocent smile, and you had a sneaking suspicion that time was an ongoing issue.

Over the course of the brunch, it became quite apparent why as, though gentle and soft spoken, Austin was also kind and affectionate and seemed to thoroughly enjoy connecting with people. He was also very much in demand at the event, with so much buzz around him that people were lingering in informal queues to get a chance to just shake his hand and congratulate him on the movie. You could only surmise it made the threats even more bitter as they tainted such remarkable success.

The four of you, with Ari behind the wheel, were not driving back to Los Angeles until four-thirty and Austin was frantically texting his girlfriend with apologies while Kate was on the phone making sure everything was set for an upcoming appearance on Jimmy Kimmel. You took the opportunity to have a small nap in the front seat, confident that Ari had the situation under control and equally confident that it would be a long night.

As Austin dashed inside to get ready, Kate grabbed her car and headed home, and you went to deposit your bags in the guest house you’d be sharing in rotation with Marwan, Trey, and Ari. There was a living room with pullout couch, small kitchen, bedroom, and a simple bathroom. You found a place to hang your clothes and stash the rest of your things, freshening up and eating something quickly before you and Ari headed out to wait for the couple.

And what a couple they made. Both equally tall and thin, strikingly beautiful, youthful…you swallowed the bitter taste of envy that flooded your mouth and smiled warmly to Austin’s girlfriend as he brought her over to make introductions.

“Very nice to meet you, miss.” You nodded professionally as you shook her delicate hand and tried not to take it personally as she barely looked at you before hugging Austin’s arm.

The lithe, long lines of her arm only served to make you acutely aware of every bulge and ripple of muscle beneath your clothes. With mere proximity she reignited every insecurity you had ever felt about the body that diligent judo practice had built. You were Hulk Hogan in a dress.

“We gotta get going, babe.” She reminded him and Ari moved forward quickly to open the car door for them to climb in, blessedly yanking you out of your descent into middle school angst.

During the drive to the dinner party, you respectfully kept your eyes forward and your ears closed to the hushed, intimate tones of conversation in the backseat, punctuated by husky laughter or feminine giggles. Accidental, unintentional glances in the rear-view mirror told you they were huddled together, heads bowed close, hands clasped. A stunning pair of human specimens that, for the first time in your career, left you feeling utterly out of place.

You were grateful for the quiet intimacy of the dinner, the bench at the back of the dinning room for you to wait, the low security risk. You found excuses to go over and check on Austin, but otherwise scanned the room and kept an eye on things from a distance.

Not only were they a beautiful couple but they were a favourite as well, with many of the other guests stopping by or rotating through the chairs near them once the formality of the courses broke and mingling resumed. A glance at your watch told you it was well past midnight, and you praised the foresight that had led to your nap in the car. Nevertheless, relief flooded you as Austin sauntered over to let you know you’d be heading home as soon as his girlfriend returned from the washroom.

“You must be starving!” He exclaimed softly, suddenly casting his eyes around for something to satiate hunger he thought he perceived in you.

“It’s all right Mr. Butler, I had something to eat while you were getting ready.” You reassured him and found yourself briefly blinded by the brilliant intensity of his smile loosened by alcohol.

“Oh good, can’t have you dying on the first day, Betty.” He smirked and elbowed you in the arm playfully, causing a chuckle to tumble from your lips.

“Second, technically…” You smirked but trailed off as you watched his statuesque girlfriend, with her rich hair and striking eyes reclaim control of his arm.

You saw a veil fall over his eyes…creating an invisible barrier between you as she drew his focus like a high-powered magnet. As though you simply ceased to exist in that moment. In her presence. Turning sharply on your heel, you began to weave your way out of the dining room, only glancing back to be sure they were keeping pace.

The consummate professional, you saw them safely to the car and into the house before going to take a shower and sitting on the small patio outside the guest house to eat some pizza the night shift had bought. The rustle of the Santa Ana winds through the palm fronds above worked its magic, capturing the tension in your body and carrying it away towards the Pacific Ocean. At last, you felt ready to retire for the night.

Standing to make your way inside for some proper sleep, a very distinct and enthusiastic female cry reached your ears from the main house. It only served to hasten your steps and you sent an earnest prayer out into the universe that the unstable letter writer was found sooner rather than later. Because this was going to be a very trying assignment.

Read Part Two

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

[petermorwood]

Soup is made: "Gosh, there's a lot. I'll get containers so we can freeze it."

Soup +1 day, in fridge. "I thought there was more than this. We don't need so many containers."

Soup +2 days, on stove. "Look, what say I just finish what's left and wash up. We'll make more for freezing next time."

It really was that good, and was just the sort of hearty, warming bowlful to counter wintery wind and rain. This one was made with beef; next time we'll try it with (more traditional) lamb.

*****

This Scotch Broth interest started with a German train dining-car menu from 1936 spotted in a documentary here:

The bill of fare, as far as we can read it, includes "Schottisches Gerstensuppe" (Scotch broth); "Kalbsrücken, Rosenkohl, Bratkartoffeln" (saddle of veal with Brussels sprouts and fried potatoes) OR "Heilbutt nach Sellerierot, Salzkartoffel" (halibut with celeriac and boiled potatoes) and "Reis mit Früchten" (rice (pudding?) with fruit).

*****

Now here's funny (peculiar, not ha-ha): despite that screencap, the existence of soup on on a train dining-car menu is downright denied by several on-line foodie sources - or more accurately by one source, then repeated by others.

What's under discussion is actually "Brown Windsor Soup", famous in memory and fiction but which may never have existed in other than its fictional form. However, these comments also include Declarative Pronouncements which are, as the screencap shows, Wrong. (The emphases are mine.)

Glyn Hughes "Foods of England" -

"Then there's the Railways. 'A Taste of Empire' by Cecilia Leong-Salobir (2011) says Brown Windsor was "a soup omnipresent on the train menus of British Railways" and an extraordinary number of people seem to definitely remember it being served on trains, which is very odd, as soup is pretty much never served on trains, for fairly obvious reasons."

Delishably.com -

"References are constantly made to the “fact” that Brown Windsor Soup was served daily in British Railway dining cars. Except that soup, being a substance susceptible to slopping over the sides of a bowl by the slightest lateral movement, is almost never served on trains."

BBC World's Table -

"The Brown Windsor Soup association with train travel runs deep in the British psyche, despite the fact that Hughes found no record of it in British Railways archives, with soups rarely served on bouncing, lurching trains for obvious reasons."

Atlas Obscura -

"Hughes even paid two researchers to go through a century’s worth of archives at the National Railway Museum, since many sources claimed that Brown Windsor soup was once a staple of British rail travel. Given that rail companies tend to avoid serving scalding-hot soups on moving vehicles, that claim already seemed suspect. Sure enough, not a single railway company menu or recipe book featured the soup."

The joke is that the "soup" may actually have been "soap".

Leaving this Brown Windsor question aside, if soup was "rarely served" on trains, then why does it appear on every one of the following on-board menus?

The English-language ones are from famous North American trains of the 1930s-1960s: the 20th Century Limited, the Hiawatha, the City of Los Angeles and the Canadian Streamliner.

The German ones are AFAIK from regular intercity services.

Also adding @dduane's and my personal experience aboard German, Austrian and Swiss dining-cars. There Was Definitely Soup.

Just because the rattly, wobbly Victorian-era British railway system wasn't safe for scalding-hot soup - though apparently just fine for beer, wine and scalding-hot tea - didn't mean there was a universal "No Soup On Trains" rule across the world, and any sweeping statement which claims so is, as with those pics, easily disproved.

*****

ETA: From a new old film on YouTube, here's soup being served on a British train in the 1950s.

Action from 6:30 - 6:53, and try not to wince at the doggerel verse of the commentary...

*****

Here's a photo from a New York Times article.

Aptly named journalist Evan Rail writes (again, emphasis is mine):

"For lunch, I chose the three-course, prix fixe menu (49 francs) and a glass of Von Salis Heidi-Wii Maienfelder Blanc de Noir (9 francs), an elegantly dry white wine. The service was impeccable, with palpable attention to detail. The buttery potato-leek soup arrived steaming hot. Chicken stroganoff included yellow heirloom carrots, perfectly cooked, a snowball of short-grain rice and a pepper-scented sauce. For dessert, the flaky, caramelized apple pie split the difference between an Old World tarte and the “as American as” recipe."

That article is dated 6th April 2023...

*****

Now I want a bowl of Gulaschsuppe, the first thing I ever tasted in my first ever Continental Speisewagen - and thanks to on-line shopping from the Austrian Supermarket...

...I can have some.

Maybe I'll rattle the table a bit for that proper dining-by-rail experience. Or maybe not.

But I might play a bit of music in the background...

(English version; official video, but not as visual.)

:->

So for those who were asking how the soup came out...

(meaning the Schottische Gerstensuppe or Scotch Broth discussed in this post): Not badly at all.

Here's the recipe. ("Graupen" turns out to be a dialect word for barley.)

It's a nice soup for a chilly night in Ireland with the rain coming down and Storm Ciarán on the way in...