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i-hate-accidents · 5 months

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i hate accidents: the beginning

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings: classism, mentions of financial survival, microaggressive sexism, microaggressive gender assumption, positive/supportive families, allusions to alcohol abuse in [I.viii]

word count: 13.9k (of 38.8k)

story context: everything in s1 and s2 of the tv series is canon for this story except for the s2 epilogue with the bridgertons. this story takes place leading up to and into the 1815 season.

additional notes: this story is incomplete. scenes that are not written are described in chevrons <> with third person pov or are delineated by isolated ellipses. additionally, the author has only watched s2! she has not watched any of s1 aside from clips, and they have not read the books aside from quotes used in edits. they have not yet watched queen charlotte. the author kinda knows the gist of an offer from a gentleman; they are familiar with sophie beckett (and are excited to meet her/them in the tv series!).

author’s note: this is the first time the author has written fanfic in 13-15 years. :) it is her hope that they have made some progress since her pre/teens. additionally, this fanfic has been written, on and off, over the course of two years. the author sincerely hopes you find some sort of joy in it, especially the readers who maybe hope to see themself a little more specifically in the world we so love.

reading tip: whilst the author is proud of it, she understands the intro to the first section is long. if you wish to get more straight to y/n and benedict's story, the author suggests jumping to [I.ii]. they won't be offended that you did heh.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.i ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you do not know how you got here.

well, that is not true; you quite literally walked from the markets and followed the directions that penelope had given you, but you did not think those directions would lead you here.

this is a mistake. i must have taken a wrong turn, gone up instead of down, made a left when i should’ve taken a right.

or perhaps this is a dream? yes! that has to be it! a dream! i must have lulled off and dreamt myself here, for whatever reason. once i close my eyes and open them again, surely i will be at home, or the markets, or the workshop even. surely!

so, you close your eyes shut.

you had been walking about the markets on your non-work day, some weeks ago, browsing the wares you wouldn’t (and couldn’t) buy, eavesdropping on any conversation of intrigue, observing the bustle of the crowd going about their day, mindlessly thinking of the next thing to write, daydreaming—when you had collided with someone. they had let out a squeak, their materials flying out of their hands, as you had fallen on your back, thankfully not hitting your head. in your periphery, you had seen how the person had crawled to your side and looked at you with urgency and concern.

“i am so sorry!” their voice was pretty. sweet and lovely. you lifted yourself up a bit to see the person you had collided with. they were also pretty— beautiful, red-haired, and hooded in blue.

their eyes widened.

“er, i meant,” they spoke again, but this time with an— irish accent? their voice was still sweet and lovely but very distinctly irish and distinctly different from their voice mere moments before. “are you hurt?”

“i am all right, thank you.”

“very well,” they said, still in their irish accent, “then i must be going—” and they shot themself up and turned, you assumed, to run away.

“wait! you’re a writer, yes?”

as you had hoped, the person in blue froze. they slowly turned to you again, apprehension and intrigue in their eyes.

“how do you know?” their voice was mangled between their two accents.

“unless you pluck birds for fun,” you stated as you collected the scattered materials they had dropped in the collision, “these are quills.”

you stood up, approached them, and held out their quills to take, offering a smile. the stranger took the quills and put them in their bag. they returned their eyes to you and returned your smile.

“thank you,” they responded in their english accent.

“i know how precious those are, so i am very glad to see they won’t go to waste. well, they wouldn’t have gone to waste either way; i would’ve taken them if you hadn’t turned around.”

that caused the person in blue to laugh.

“i assume you are a writer?” they inquired.

you don’t know what had overcome you; you don’t know why you had been so trusting of this stranger, especially with something such as your writing, but you had been. you reached for your then most recent, folded up quarto, kept between your bosom and your blouse, and offered it to the stranger to read. they took it, shifted their eyes from line to line, turned it to read the crossed lines, and then looked up at you, beaming.

“this is brilliant!— oh, forgive me; i did not even ask for your name.”

“y/n,” you extended your hand. “and you?”

the stranger seemed to stiffen but quickly relaxed themself, taking your hand in theirs and shaking them. they beamed still, but something of their smile had grown quietly mischievous.

“can you keep a secret?”

when you open your eyes, you huff out a breath in a poor attempt to assuage yourself from the reality of your situation: you are not dreaming. here you are—you—at grosvenor square.

you knew of your friend’s circumstances as she had shared it: she is a noble lady, a third sister of the featherington family, who has been writing scandal sheets of high society’s romps and happenings since her ‘debut,’ as she had put it (you hadn’t understood how she had used that word and became further confused upon her explanation of it), under a pseudonym called lady whistledown. penelope has been kind enough to let you read her sheets, and you find it ridiculous what these high society persons do for their lives and utterly brilliant with what wit, snark, and compassion even penelope commentates on that world.

but you did not ever, ever think that she would bring you to it, let alone into it. when penelope had said that you were to meet her most beloved friend, you had thought it would be in an obscure alley or a room hidden behind a bookcase in an unassuming shop—not the literal neighborhood in which she, and presumably her friend, lives! by your posture, by your clothes, by your very existence, it is blatant how much you do not belong here.

i should run. i am going to run.

and so you turn and start—

“y/n!”

—when you hear the sweet voice of your friend. you scrunch your eyes closed, inhaling and exhaling through your nose, and turn around and see penelope in a picturesque green dress, lifting up her skirt with gloved hands, scurrying down the pavement of her neighborhood towards you, beaming. despite the anxiety that rages within you at this very moment, your heart swells upon seeing your friend in such enthusiastic spirits, and you smile despite yourself.

“good day, pen.”

she takes hold of your bare hands in her gloved ones and gives them a squeeze. perhaps she can discern your nerves because you start to feel yourself calm ever so slightly by her gesture.

“i am so glad you are here,” she says.

“i am—— glad to see you,” you then lower your voice. you do not know why; it is not as if your lowered voice will help conceal your existence in this place. “are you certain i am permitted to be here?”

letting go of your hands, penelope swats at the question.

“the bridgertons and i care not about such things.”

“the— bridgertons?”

“yes!” she turns and gestures to the grand brick house with wisterias. “it is at their home, after all, in which we will be spending our time together.”

your jaw drops.

“we are staying inside the house? not simply meeting outside the house?”

this is not a dream. this is a nightmare.

penelope returns her eyes to yours, and it startles you with what tenderness she gazes at you.

“i understand that you are fearful, y/n. i had presumed you would not have come if you had known we would be here. but i would not have led you to bridgerton house if i did not think you would be safe here. the bridgertons are the most inviting, kindly family of the ton— of high society,” she amends upon seeing your confusion at the word ‘ton.’ their name for their world, it seems. “eloise has assured me that we shall be in her bedchamber for the entirety of our time together. and if you wish to leave, for any reason, at any point, i shall accompany you, and we shall leave together.”

with closed eyes you heave a sigh through your nose. you flutter your eyes open and offer penelope a weak, but sincere, smile.

“very well.”

penelope squeaks in excitement, taking hold of your hand once more, giving it another squeeze of encouragement, and leads you towards this bridgerton house as she so called it. she raps at the stately door thrice with great eagerness, seeming to knock in perfect tandem with your beating-too-quickly heart.

an elderly man opens the door, about to greet penelope and her guest, when a young femme shoves herself through the opening.

“thank you, giles!” she calls out as if the man is across the road and then looks at you, ferocity in her eyes. it ought to unnerve you, the whirlwind force of this stranger, but it doesn’t. you just return her gaze with a large, albeit a bit bemused, smile.

“penelope has shared so much about you,” the stranger states and takes hold of your hand. “let us get inside!” and yanks you into the house. she turns, looking straight ahead, and barrels forward, pulling you with her.

as the fiery femme seems to soliloquize excitedly to herself, you look back at penelope who merely wears an amused smile at her friend’s antics as she follows behind.

“oh!” the femme exclaims suddenly. she halts you both and sharply turns to you, still gripping your hand, grinning. “my name is eloise. eloise bridgerton.”

“y/n y/l/n.”

“excellent. now! with introductions all sorted—”

and she turns and barrels you both right, rather than heading straight ahead to the grand staircase as you had presumed she would.

“eloise—” eloise’s fervency had provided a reprieve to your anxiety, but the confusion in penelope’s voice puts you back ill at ease, “where are you—”

“it’ll take just a moment, worry not, pen!”

eloise leads you down a hall, noises and voices of all sorts coming from an entrance to a room, growing louder and louder as you approach until they reach the peaks of their volume as eloise halts you both once more, to your mortification, at the entrance of that very room.

“family, penelope, y/n, and i shall be in my bedchamber. we have much to discuss. please do not bother us,” eloise proudly announces to the entirety of the room.

silence falls. all eyes—and there are many eyes—are on you.

oh, my god.

you turn to penelope. her overall manner is calm and composed, but you can see the disquiet in her eyes. she peers into you, the apologetic look conveying, i did not know this would happen.

you turn back to the family.

a lady. a lady of older age. two gentlemen with a difference in age. a boy. a girl, the youngest amongst them.

how is it with a house this massive in the middle of the city that the entire family is present in this one room? well, the room is the size of the two floors of your home combined, if not larger, so in that sense it is sound—but your question still stands.

this has to be the entire family. surely. there are so many of them. this has to be the entire family. yes?

“no talking, no music playing, no fighting?” inquires a droll voice walking into the room, “has someone—”

you turn your head to follow the source of the voice and make contact with dumbfounded ocean eyes.

butterflies flutter in your stomach.

oh.

shit.

“y/n, this is my second eldest brother, benedict bridgerton,” eloise states. “benedict, this is my friend, y/n y/l/n. do not bother us once we are in my bedchamber.”

he stares and blinks at you but then assumes a gentlemanly posture and bows his head.

“it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss y/l/n.”

without any forethought you start to extend a hand to benedict until you hear penelope give a slight cough only you, she, eloise, and he can hear. receiving the hint, you retract your hand and pretend to swat at your skirt.

“err— yes. likewise.”

another cough.

“mis, ter?— brid… ger?—ton,” you articulate with complete and utter uncertainty of how this world’s introductions function.

he cocks his head and furrows his eyebrows at you, something like amusement playing at his features. he wears a lopsided smile that he is barely attempting to conceal. his expression should be infuriating. and it is. but, it is... charming, too. and welcomed.

you have never felt more embarrassed or more pleased in your life.

shit.

“before the three of you retreat to eloise’s bedchamber,” declares an authoritative voice, breaking your reverie. you turn away from ocean eyes and see the lady of the room approaching you. much to your surprise, she smiles. to an even greater surprise, her smile seems sincere. “i must insist that i introduce myself and the rest of the family to our guest.

“i am viscountess kathani sharma bridgerton, the lady of this house,” she curtsies with perfect elegance. “it is a delight to welcome you to our home, miss y/l/n.”

“thank you for having me— lady bridgerton. and you may call me ‘y/n.’ you need not use such, uh, formalities with me.”

“very well; then you may call me ‘kate.’”

you furrow your eyebrows. she had introduced herself as ‘kathani’ but now asks you to call her ‘kate.’ it makes you think of mama and papa; they shared with you once how they had chosen to go by different names upon emigrating to england. when you had asked why, they simply replied that it would be easier for others in this country to address them.

“may i call you ‘kathani’ instead?”

surprise flashes over the dignified demeanor of the viscountess. she regards you with softness in her eyes.

“yes. yes, you may.”

resuming her full composure, kathani guides you to the eldest of the gentlemen and introduces him as her husband, viscount anthony bridgerton, the lord of the house. he offers you a small smile with a bow of his head and greets you ‘good day.’ you try not to wince at his decorous use of ‘miss’ with your first name, but you suppose it is merely in these people’s natures.

kathani continues and leads you to the lady of older age, introducing her as dowager viscountess violet bridgerton. she dips into a lovely curtsy and, on her rise, gazes upon you with a gentle smile. you feel compelled to respond in kind, but it would certainly not be as graceful as hers, and worse, she may interpret your slovenly attempt as a lark. so, you refrain.

the viscountess next introduces you to mister colin bridgerton (you summon all your self-restraint to keep your countenance neutral—this is the boy who hurt penelope); then to mister gregory bridgerton (he bows so ceremoniously towards you, you cannot help but be endeared by his resolve); and lastly to miss hyacinth bridgerton.

“why are you dressed like that?” she inquires.

“hyacinth!” the dowager viscountess reprimands. she must be her mother. she sounds like a mother. it reminds you of how your mama reprimanded you and your siblings as little ones; the memory and the exchange make you hold back a laugh.

“what! what did i say wrong?”

you ought to feel self-conscious, your lower standing brought into further display to everyone in the room, but you detect neither malice nor judgment in the young girl’s voice. just genuine curiosity. so, you smile.

“my family and i have different means to clothes, amongst other things. i wear these when i work or go about my day. though,” you regard your attire and then— hyacinth?, feeling the glimmer in your eye, “it makes for running around and playing make-believe quite easy.”

“make-believe! gregory, do you hear that! miss!— miss—“ she turns to you with a cocked head.

“y/n.”

her eyes shine once again.

“miss y/n plays make-believe! we must play!” hyacinth latches onto your hand and, with remarkable strength for a child who cannot be older than two and ten, pulls and drags you towards the entrance of the room. “come along, gregory! wouldn’t want to be the last one there!”

“no fair! you cheated!” the second youngest shouts back, dropping all previous ceremonies, and scrambles towards the entrance.

“hyacinth! y/n is not your playmate! she is here with me and penelope!”

“plans do change, dear sister,” hyacinth retorts. eloise’s jaw drops, and the rest of the family bursts into laughter. the entire exchange warms your heart. in so many ways, they are so proper, so wealthy, and yet they are not all so different from your own family. they seem to really care for one another.

“when did you get so smug!” eloise shoots back.

“small wonder where she could’ve learned that from,” you hear colin, the traitor, murmur. turning your head, you see him give amused, pointed looks to eloise and kathani. the latter grins wickedly, and her husband beams at her with pride.

“there are only so many hours in a day!” hyacinth complains. you face her once more, still holding her hand.

“what about this? i will play with you and your brother for an hour, and then i will be with your sister and penelope for my remaining time here. i want to honor the wishes of each of my new friends.”

hyacinth considers this with much theatricality to her expression. she then grins.

“that is an excellent plan,” she remarks, looking to eloise for her thoughts. you follow her line of sight. eloise rolls her eyes and sighs, but a smile rests on her lips.

“very well, then.”

feeling peace restored, you smile in return and, in doing so, in your periphery, catch the ocean eyes of the second eldest brother. benedict. he is looking at you. why is that? you feel your cheeks flush and the tips of your ears heat. his gaze is somehow gentle and intense and indecipherable all at once, and the flutterings in the pit of your stomach grow, and intensify, and start to overwhelm you—

when you are tugged back to reality with a tug forward.

–

< hyacinth leads y/n through the house to the gardens with gregory by her side. y/n is both uneasy and in awe of the things she sees. eventually, they arrive in the gardens. y/n notices two swings hanging off of a large branch of an old tree and is utterly endeared by the sight; it confirms what she has been thinking: though the bridgertons are wealthy, they are warm and welcoming.

< just as hyacinth declares that she has found a suitable spot for make-believe, two male voices ask if they may join. hyacinth, gregory, and y/n turn and see benedict and colin approaching. colin shares that though y/n seems lovely, it would be unwise of the family to leave the two youngest with a stranger; though y/n agrees with his family’s caution, she refrains from wanting to strangle the person who hurt her friend.

< gregory whines and asks if they can begin before eloise complains. hyacinth agrees and says that they need to assign characters. y/n suggests that hyacinth should be a sorceress and gregory should be a knight; these proposals delight the youngest bridgertons. y/n volunteers herself as the villain and decides to be a banshee; she turns to the elder bridgertons and asks what they wish to be.

< before they have a chance to respond, hyacinth proposes that benedict should be the princess who has been captured. benedict indignantly asks why, and hyacinth simply states because he is the most sensitive of the family. sensing how the sibling argument is about to evolve, y/n intervenes and suggests that, like a sensitive princess, perhaps benedict is merely in tuned with his emotions, even amidst adversity; it is, in its own way, a compliment. benedict’s eyes become indecipherable upon the comment, but he wears a small sincere smile. gregory then proposes that colin is y/n’s changeling henchman.

< make-believe ensues, and it is very sweet and very silly. eventually, gregory is called in for latin tutoring and thanks y/n for the fun with a deep bow; hyacinth is called in for pianoforte lessons. >

hyacinth launches herself at you with a hug. pulling back from the embrace, she beams.

“we must continue when you return next!”

before you can even start to reply, she turns and skips off towards the house. you hear how gregory makes a comment about coming in first, and suddenly the youngest bridgertons are in a race against one another, shouting taunts and insults. you can’t help but smile.

“they seem to quite like you.”

your smile falls. you turn and face towards the two elder bridgertons, the traitor being the one to have spoken.

“colin bridgerton,” you begin, “yes?”

he smiles and nods. you surge forward and shove your finger into his face, his smile now wiped.

“if you ever hurt penelope again, i shall make certain that it is the last time you ever do. do i make myself clear?”

when he does not respond, you repeat yourself, and he slowly then quickly nods. satisfied, you turn towards ocean eyes and point your finger at him.

“and you look after him.”

“what did i do?”

“be a proper elder brother and serve as an example for your misguided sibling. understood?”

“i— yes. of course. understood.”

you smile again.

“wonderful. i am glad we three are in agreement. it was good speaking with you, gentlemen. good day.”

you turn away and start to walk towards the house.

“i quite like her too,” and you hear the restored smile in the third bridgerton’s voice. “what about you, brother?”

you hasten your steps towards the house. though mere moments before you had felt emboldened and brave, you fear hearing benedict’s response. you do not why.

–

< eloise, penelope, and y/n extensively discuss literature and writing; upon talking about women writers, y/n shares how she does not fully see herself as just a woman. >

“so, what are you?”

you wince. you have kept good on your promise and joined eloise and penelope in the former’s bedchamber, but you are swiftly wishing you had been able to stay with hyacinth, gregory, colin even, and benedict. you had attempted to explain an aspect of yourself to eloise but not to very much fruit, it seems. you want to hide and escape and run from this place—

“eloise.”

—when penelope comes to your defense.

“what? what is it?”

“perhaps you could have phrased your question with more tact and thoughtfulness.”

eloise looks between the two of you, concern flooding her eyes.

“did i— did i not?”

penelope turns to you.

“are you comfortable to answer?”

“i would prefer that i didn’t.”

you hope that your eyes are sufficient enough to convey the immensity of gratitude that you feel towards penelope in this very moment.

“y/n,” begins eloise, “i did not realize—”

“and what are you three gossiping about?”

you jump, penelope squeaks, and eloise growls a noise of exasperation. turning towards the voice in the doorway, you are visited, once again, by the third and second bridgerton siblings.

“and what makes you think we are gossiping?” demands eloise, “because we are w— people?”

you feel the corners of your mouth tug upward. at least she is trying. wanting to keep the attention on benedict and colin rather than yourself, however, and with genuine curiosity, you cock your head at the two gentlemen.

“do you two always come in a pair?”

“not always,” replies benedict. and he smiles at you, “today is merely a special occasion.”

stupid butterflies.

“speaking of such,” colin proceeds. “kate has requested that the three of you join the family in the drawing room.”

< the five of them make their way to the drawing room. kate shares that, on behalf of the family, she would like to invite both y/n and penelope to dinner. though at first honored to have been invited, upon hearing “dinner,” y/n realizes how late it has become and looks out the window: the sun is halfway set. she apologizes and says that she cannot stay because she resumes work the next day. her latter statement renders some of the people in the room confused, but kathani states how she understands and that y/n is welcomed to join dinner whenever she visits.

< seeing how confused y/n is, anthony shares that y/n is welcomed to visit their home whenever she is able and whenever she would like, and the rest of the family pipes in with how delighted they would be if she does. not knowing how she deserved such kindness from people who were mere strangers at the start of the day, y/n thanks the bridgertons and says that she would love to. penelope chooses to stay for dinner and says that she will see y/n next week. y/n affirms that she, and the bridgertons, will.

< kathani and benedict offer to escort y/n to the entrance. y/n walks down the steps and passes the gate but, before she goes, takes one last look at number five until next week and sees benedict still in the doorway. y/n notices, but reprimands herself for perhaps imagining it, that his smile grows when his eyes lock with hers. with flutterings in her stomach, y/n offers a wave. he gives a small wave back. she turns and goes, smiling all the way home. >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.ii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“benedict has been making more appearances as of late,” penelope remarks.

the three of you all look up—you and pen from your writing, eloise from her reading—to see benedict entering through the doors and heading towards the other side of the drawing room. he looks over at you— at you all and offers a smile before he plops himself down onto a chaise and begins to draw.

“yes, it is strange,” eloise considers to the two of you. “for so long he had been moping about, locked away in his bedchamber aside from mealtime or the occasional visit to the drawing room. he’s even picked up his charcoal again.”

“again?” you inquire, averting your gaze from the artist to your friend. “had he stopped prior?”

“he had entirely put it down after—” eloise sighs. whatever memory she has recounted, it does not seem to be a pleasant one. you look to penelope; you sense that she shares a similar sentiment by the sad look in her eyes. you are curious but you choose not to press.

“it has been quite some time since he’s last drawn. but now, whenever i see him, whether in his bedchamber or the billiards room or some other room in the house, he’s drawing. he frequently arrives to mealtime with charcoal stained fingers—much to the chagrin of mama and anthony.”

you all laugh. benedict looks up at you three, and from here you can tell he wears a curious expression, no doubt wondering what you are laughing about. when he exaggeratedly arches an eyebrow, eloise just makes a face at him. benedict rolls his eyes, smiling, and for the briefest moment, you feel as though he is looking at you. but you’ve always had an active imagination. when you blink, he has returned to his drawing, a smile still on his lips.

“i wonder what has changed?” eloise softly says, still looking at benedict. for all her fire and spirit, you see how deeply she cares for her second eldest brother.

“perhaps he has found a muse,” penelope poses rather than queries. you shift your gaze from eloise to penelope, and you’re curious about her expression. she seems... delighted? benedict finding his passion for art again does sound delightful; you know firsthand how difficult it is to pick yourself up from a slump. but that’s not what she seems delighted by. she just looks at you. with a soft smile. why? what does benedict have anything to do with you?

you feel your cheeks and the tips of your ears flood with warmth. you don’t know why, but penelope’s expression unnerves you, in a pleasant sensational way.

you clear your throat.

“i am happy for him,” you say, returning to your quill and folded quarto, haphazardly writing down whatever words come to your mind.

ocean. charcoal. smile. flutters.

shit.

it is not until what feels like an uncharacteristically long moment later that you hear penelope resume her writing and eloise resume her reading. you try not to imagine what they could have silently exchanged with your gaze averted.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.iii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you suck in a sharp breath and shoot out of your seat.

“you do not!” you shriek, hastening towards kathani, eloise, and the stack of books they have just settled onto the table. you had arrived early to the bridgertons’ home, at the invitation of kathani, so early that the rest of the family seems not yet to be awake.

(which is strange, you find, as it is nearing 8 o’clock. most mornings, at this time, you are already well into the bustle of work.)

kathani had prefaced, rather enigmatically, that she and eloise had a surprise they wished to share with you. you had your suspicions as to what it could be related to, and with each passing moment, you are suspecting, very excitingly!, that you are very correct.

“indeed, we do,” kathani grins and gestures to the stacks.

taking no hesitation to the offer, you grab from the top of a stack and open to the title page.

the dramatic works of william shakespeare. vol. 2: a midsummer night’s dream / the merry wives of windsor / much ado about nothing.

you shriek again, this time accompanied with hops of excitement, flipping to the final third of the book.

“much ado! this is the one i’ve read!”

dorothea, a fruit seller, had offered a copy of it to you (at a lowered price, she had emphasized) when she had learned of your liking to stories. she grandly stated that she had started to write down the dialogue during low-attendance performances at the theater and then brought her handiwork to be typed and printed at a not-to-be-named press. but if the pages’ handwritten annotations alluded to anything, you suspected that she had managed to purloin a performer’s copy of the script. you felt a bit of pity for the poor performer who misplaced it, but you respected, and still respect!, dorothea’s moonlighting.

you shoot your head up from the book and are greeted by the grins of your two friends. “which one has romeo and juliet?”

this past autumn you had overheard several candlemakers at the markets animatedly discussing the ‘incandescent’ portrayal of the titular character by an actress from ireland. a performance, described as ‘incandescent’ by candlemakers! embodied by a storyteller who has emigrated here! hearing all those wondrous things made you insatiably curious to one day read the text that made such wondrous things happen.

“i believe,” eloise says, pulling the second from the bottom of a stack, “it is this one.”

you twitch your fingers; you have to refrain yourself from snatching the book from your friend’s hand. when it is in yours, you open to the title page and feel your eyes, along with your smile, widen.

“it is, it is! oh, this is extraordinary!” you flip furiously to your desired page and, once you find it, start to read,

prologue. two households—

—when you hear kathani say, “we had thought of starting with that one.”

that makes you rip your eyes away from the words and look up at the two ladies.

“‘starting with’?”

“when eloise, penelope, and i learned of your eagerness to read shakespeare,” elaborates kathani. her saying that makes you flush; you had not realized with what apparent enthusiasm you had spoken of the poet. “the three of us had discussed that the four of us could read his plays together. if you would like, of course.”

your jaw drops. you cannot help the squeal that emits from your mouth. hopping once again in your excitement, you throw yourself at your friends and wrap your arms around them both.

“if i would like! i would be delighted!”

you pull back from your hug with the two ladies and are greeted by gleaming eyes and wide grins. you feel how your expression matches theirs. it has only been a little over a month of your friendship with eloise and kathani, and the rest of the bridgertons at number five, but they each have somehow found a way to carve themselves out in your heart. and if this most recent kindness by eloise and kathani indicates anything, perhaps you have found a way to carve yourself out in each of theirs.

(and you promptly ignore the thought of what that could possibly mean for ocean eyes and charcoal-stained hands, flutterings within you be damned.)

“how shall we allocate the book?” you say aloud out of genuine inquiry and a deep desire to revert your heart, mind elsewhere. “shall we read passages aloud and then pass it on to the next reader?”

< eloise makes a remark that indicates her confusion at y/n’s question. kathani, who is more privy to the situation, shares how she has her own copy as do eloise and penelope. the stack that they’ve brought is an extra set that the bridgerton house has that y/n can use. this perplexes y/n. she cannot understand how a household can have multiple copies of a book, let alone copies of a whole anthology of many books. before y/n can doom-spiral into thinking, penelope arrives at the entrance of the drawing room. reading of romeo and juliet commences.

< just as y/n finishes reading the scene in which romeo and juliet meet for the first time at the capulet ball and then kiss, y/n notices in her periphery benedict approaching the four. kathani remarks how unusually early he is to be awake and ready for the day; y/n notes to herself how there seems to be some sort of mischief in the viscountess’s smile. >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.iv ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“i shall be y/n’s teacher,” the viscount declares.

“you were adamant on her not fencing, and now you are insistent on being her teacher?”

“it would be hardly appropriate, colin, for two young unmarried men to be in such close proximity to a young unmarried lady, as proximity of teacher and student in fencing would require.”

“are you always this— antiquated?” you inquire.

that earns a snort from kathani. anthony, looking betrayed, turns to his wife; she merely shrugs in reply, mirth shining in her eyes. he turns back to you, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth fully frowning.

“and what do you insinuate by that!”

“are you so distrustful of your own brothers, the ones for whom you have served, and still serve, as a model, that you think they would take advantage of me in such a situation—”

you sense how the eldest bridgerton is about to retaliate and arch a severe eyebrow at him in response; you refuse to be interrupted.

“or are you so unbelieving in persons of feminine dispositions that you think i shall be compromised by the mere closeness of a body different from my own sex?”

there is a silence, and though you cannot see them as you stare down the viscount, you can feel how the others exchange delighted glances with one another and hold back their laughter.

“you have two choices, my lord,” you offer.

“neither of them are suitable! and do not call me ‘my lord’!”

“is that not the proper way to address you?”

“it is, but you—!” he huffs out air through his nostrils, like an indignant dragon in a fairytale; it is a very silly, very amusing sight. “we have not even begun the lesson and you are already the most exasperating student i’ve ever had!”

you turn to colin and benedict, grinning.

“you two must have been saints then.”

“would you expect any less?” colin grins back.

your wide smile remains intact until your eyes fall on the expression of benedict. you are entirely uncertain of what emotion he could be possibly feeling until he seems to realize where he is, and how you are looking at him, and breaks out into a brilliant smile with matching brilliant ocean eyes. you quickly snap your head away from him, ignoring the fluttering of butterflies summoned within you upon the shift in benedict’s expression, and turn to anthony.

“shall we begin, then?”

–

it turns out that you are quite the quick learner when it comes to fencing. after putting on a fencing vest that had previously belonged to benedict—

“because you are the shortest of the three of us, brother,” remarked colin after the second son inquired why it had to be his former vest that you were to wear. benedict scrunched his nose and eyebrows in displeasure. (perhaps you should have taken offense to his opposition, but it was truly of no personal consequence to you and the reaction it created in him was truly adorable.)

“i am not!”

“you are, indeed,” anthony deadpanned.

“prove it!”

and the three eldest sons of the esteemed bridgerton family stood next to one another, comparing their heights. you turned to kathani, eloise, and penelope.

“are they always like this?”

“idiotic?” eloise deadpanned, sounding remarkably like her eldest brother.

“indeed, they are,” grinned kathani.

—over your blouse, you are immediately put to lessons. anthony explains the basic concepts of fencing and then demonstrates elementary strikes and parries, occasionally adjusting your stances to the proper forms. noting how quickly you took to the lessons, he calls for a match between the two of you to observe how you would apply your skills in combat.

“you are retaining information exceptionally well, as well as executing the techniques rather impressively,” states your teacher as you deflect his strike. you try to hide your gladness in his praise as you smirk and push his blade away with the terzo of yours.

“ah, so my sex is not a detriment to my abilities; that is good to know.”

you hear snickers and snorts from around you.

“i said nothing of the sort!”

“did you think it?”

your opponent frowns further, slightly turning his head away from you to steal a glance at his wife. he turns back to you.

“i did,” he admits defeatedly.

“it takes a true man of honor to rise up to his folly,” you remark honestly, as you strike anthony’s arm with the tip of your sabre. loud cheers burst from the onlookers and an aghast but proud look emerges on the countenance of your teacher; you grin, “and a fool to leave his defenses so easily open.”

impressed by your display of sport, and seemingly overcoming his antiquation, at least for the moment, anthony decides that you will match against colin and then benedict.

“how are you to improve if you are to face the same opponent?” claims your teacher with his usual air of annoyance, but you detect his pride in your accomplishment.

it is also decided that the matches will end when one scores a point.

and so, you face colin. it is easy to keep pace with him, not due to lack of skill on his part but complete and utter determination on yours. you tried to convince yourself, in the beginning of your match, that the remnants of your anger towards the third bridgerton brother, and how he treated your friend, did not fuel your determination to score the point— but it did and does. and successfully so, as you strike colin in his left shoulder. perhaps you do it with too much force as the strike reels him off balance (and perhaps you are delighted that it has done so), but he quickly resumes composure and flashes you a grin.

“i see more and more everyday why you and pen are friends.”

that softens your heart. you should be dubious of his charming remark, but you aren’t; it is too sincere, as is he, and you begin to see, even if minutely, why penelope cares for him.

“she has good taste in the company she keeps, i’m learning.”

that makes him laugh, as it does the others, and you look over and see how pen’s countenance shines with joy. that is enough to put your anger towards colin at ease, and turning towards your defeated foe once more, you return his smile and bow your head. bowing his head in kind, colin leaves, and in his place arrives your next and final opponent; he is smiling like a boy.

“best for last?” he remarks as he prepares his starting position. you roll your eyes, ignoring the warmth that starts to fill the center of your chest.

“this shall determine that,” and settled in your starting position, you and benedict begin your duel.

you have observed something of the eldest bridgerton brothers in your matches against them. anthony struck like fire, bombastic and ferocious. colin stood his ground like earth, his guards resolute. and benedict—

benedict moves like water. free. fluid.

as if he is dancing while dueling.

both you and he have reached a stalemate. you have managed to parry every one of his strikes, and he has managed to deflect every one of yours. you can feel how those watching are holding their breaths, waiting for someone to land the point.

you try not to startle when you hear benedict’s voice as you guard against his strike.

“it takes quite an astonishing person to earn the praise of anthony bridgerton.”

“are you so surprised that i am such a person?”

“quite the opposite, y/n,” he catches one of your strikes and grins at you. “i think you are entirely perfect in that regard.”

you roll your eyes once again but cannot help the blush that you feel spread across your cheeks as you push back his sabre with yours.

“do you honestly think charm will win you the point?”

“do you find me charming?” you ignore the heat that creeps up your neck and the voice in your head that has already answered his question far too quickly for your liking. “no, i do not think so lowly of such a formidable foe.”

and he winks at you.

and somehow, without you realizing how you got there, benedict strikes the center of your chest.

“but a little distraction does help.”

his point earns a round of groans and bleats from the crowd. instead of looking offended, benedict just laughs and approaches you, gloved hand outstretched, a boyish smile once again on his face. despite your loss, you cannot help but smile too. you place your gloved hand in his.

“it was a pleasure to duel with you.”

“yes. likewise.”

perhaps you imagine it, but you feel his thumb swipe against the side of your hand. it is featherlight, hardly felt with both your and his hands gloved, but felt nevertheless. before you can process the sensation any further, he lets go of your hand. with another smile, he bows his head at you as the crowd of people approach you both, penelope raving about your matches, eloise expressing her wish to fence now, anthony already commenting on what you could do better in your next match.

and without you realizing it, you gently swipe against the side of your gloved hand.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.v ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

"mama? papa?"

it is a rare occasion when you, mama, papa, and your sibling eat together, and an even rarer occasion to do so for a second meal, but this night was such a night. the three of them halt their conversation and look over to you.

"how did you know you were in love with one another?"

there is a small silence, but then, without looking at one another, they smile in tandem.

"it was at first sight, really, for me,” your papa says as he offers his hand to mama. “as trite as that sounds."

mama takes his hand into hers.

"i as well."

"when i looked into your mama’s eyes, i knew that something was different. that my life had changed."

"for the better, dearest?"

papa laughs heartily.

"no, actually. it has been misery ever since."

you and your family laugh as mama playfully slaps at papa’s hand. it warms your soul every time they do this, when they tease one another and are light because of the other. it makes you believe in love each time.

mama and papa lace their fingers together again, smiling, still gazing at one another. as if it is just the two of them in their own world. mama, turning her smile from papa to you, speaks again.

"the flutterings in my stomach wouldn’t quiet, and they only intensified as we approached closer to one another that day and grew closer to one another with time."

she looks nostalgic until something mischievous quickly overcedes her countenance.

"why do you ask, my dear? has someone captured your eye?"

"or, better yet, your heart?" papa tags along.

ocean eyes and charcoal-stained hands flash by in your mind.

"no!" you say too hastily. "no, of course not. it’s— for one of my writings, is all."

you repeatedly poke at your bit of boiled chicken to avoid any further inquisition from your parents’ gazes.

–

sat by your window, you stare up at the night sky when the voice of your sibling infiltrates your dreaming.

“it’s one of the brothers, isn’t it?”

you whip your head over to them. they don’t even look at you; they are preparing for bed.

“pardon me?”

“is it the artist brother?”

“what!”

fluffing their pillow, they smile.

“so i am correct.”

“i didn’t even say anything!”

“that is not true. you said ‘what.’”

“that reveals nothing!”

pleased with the setting of their bed, they ruin their work by plopping their bottom onto it as they finally face you in what you realize now is a confrontation.

“of course it doesn’t, the word on its own. your reaction, however? could not be more transparent of your feelings.”

“i have no feelings!”

“is that why you asked mama and papa about being in love? because you have no feelings and you need to be told what they are?”

“i!—— i am going to bed!” you lift yourself up from your seat at the window sill, turning away from the peace of the night sky, and crash onto your bed. you lay on your side, faced towards the wall, refusing to make eye contact with your sibling. you lift up your sheet with too much force and lay it over your body and head. “good! night!”

after some silence, you hear the creak of your sibling’s bed and, a moment later, feel a featherlight touch on your upper arm. you give it a thought, and perhaps against your better judgment, you lift off your sheet, turn, and are greeted by the gentlest of expressions from your sibling.

“i think it is wonderful, y/n. whoever it is, they are very blessed to have your affections.”

your heart swells. you love your sibling.

“how did you know it was the artist brother?”

“so i am correct!” they smile with a shrug. “i deduced based on how much you’ve been writing about paint and charcoal as of late.”

you almost shoot upright from your bed.

“you’ve been reading my writing?”

“well, if they weren’t to be read, why do you leave them spread out on the table?”

“because there is no other place to store them!”

“and how good that is, or else i wouldn’t be able to read your fantastical stories or have been able to discover who your beloved is.”

“you are impossible!”

they kneel next to your bed and place their head on your shoulder.

“i love you too.”

you exhale the last of your frustrations, adjusting yourself a bit so that your sibling can rest their head more comfortably. without realizing, you stroke their hair, just as you always have.

“i quite like the story about the mushroom family,” they state after some time. “i’m happy that the middle mushroom child befriends the peony and then the hyacinths. i am happy they are happy.”

you feel your eyes start to drift.

“his name is benedict, by the way.”

you hear your sibling’s need for sleep in their reply.

“that’s a lovely name.”

“he is,” you murmur as the peace of the night falls over you.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.vi ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“good day!— robert?”

“good day, y/n!” and robert holds the door of bridgerton house open for you to pass.

“pardon the confusion in my greetings—”

“no offense taken on my part!” the late adolescence beams. you grin back. with how utterly enthusiastic robert is all the time, one would think it is part of some ruse. but it is not; he is just that genuinely delighted by life, you’ve observed.

“i am grateful. i had expected to be greeted by giles, is all.”

robert frowns. you feel the corners of your mouth tug downward in response, concern starting to swell your heart.

“he is ill at the moment.”

“ill! with what?”

“i know not. i had admitted the doctor perhaps not even a quarter of an hour ago. but worry not too much, y/n! from what the viscountess has shared with the servants earlier this day, giles shall make a quick recovery. and lady bridgerton has yet to be wrong in anything!”

relief floods your body. giles is of elderly age, so it calms you to hear that his ailment seems not to be too severe. and you can’t help but smile not only by robert’s sunny temperament but also by his rightful faith in kathani.

“that is all good to hear.”

“shall i announce you to the drawing room?”

“oh god no. i am quite all right, but thank you.”

“understood! then i must pardon myself; i must retrieve miss bridgerton and miss featherington.”

“‘retrieve’? are they not in the drawing room?”

“i was informed by dowager lady bridgerton, who was accompanied by miss bridgerton and miss featherington themselves at the time, that they would be in the gardens until your arrival and to retrieve the young misses upon your arrival.”

“i see. well, i shall be in the drawing room then. thank you again, robert.”

“it is my pleasure, y/n!” he beams once more and takes off to complete his task.

how odd, you think to yourself. this day seems rather unusual to the ones you’ve had thus far at bridgerton home. and it is hardly even noon! you become lost in your thoughts as you approach the entrance to the drawing room—

when you are greeted by benedict, and benedict alone, lounging with his legs thrown over the arm of a chair, staring sternly at the page he draws on.

“oh,” is all you say.

benedict snaps his focus from his book to you, his countenance transforming from deep concentration to frustration to genuine surprise in a mere moment. he scrambles up from his seat, book in one hand and charcoal in the other, posture now proper, and he bows his head.

“miss y/l/n.”

never before have you been alone in a room with a man. a gentleman. a gentleman with a handsome face, charcoal-stained hands, and beautiful ocean eyes.

you roll your eyes.

“blimey, it is just me. there is no need to bow. and why are you calling me miss y/l/n?”

benedict smiles.

“all right. y/n.”

shit.

perhaps that was a mistake.

“where has your family gone?” you inquire as you go to sit in the chair parallel to his, ignoring the flutterings within your stomach. “it is uncommon to enter the drawing room of bridgerton house and not be greeted by talking, or music playing, or fighting.”

smiling, benedict falls back into his seat and resumes his drawing.

“hyacinth is with her reading tutor; gregory is with his fencing instructor; colin is eating some sort of pastry, i am certain, in town; anthony and kate are likely— preoccupied—”

you snort; benedict’s smile grows broader as he smudges charcoal with his thumb, a small furrow in his eyebrows now forming.

“and mother has managed to rope eloise into learning about the flowers of the gardens, and eloise, being eloise, has roped penelope into doing the same.”

“and what of you?”

“and what of me?”

“why have you chosen the drawing room as your whereabouts?”

benedict cocks his head towards his drawing.

“it’s in the name of the room, is it not?”

“ah, a man of wit, i see.”

“i am a man of many attributes, y/n.”

ignore the butterflies.

“such as?”

“what attributes would win your favor?”

“so that you may lie to me and say you possess them?”

“of course not; the list is merely too long and i shan’t bore you with a soliloquy.”

“so, a man of thoughtfulness.”

“oh yes, a myriad of thoughts.”

“name one.”

“how much i am enjoying our conversation.”

and benedict shifts his ocean eyes from his drawing to you, a smile on his lips. he is being playful, but you detect no deceit in his expression. it infuriates you, really. how charming he is. how endearing. how sincere.

you return his smile.

“as am i, benedict.”

you sit in comfortable silence a moment more until benedict breaks the gaze, returning his oceans eyes and smile back to his drawing. his smile, however, does not last for very long.

“this sketch, on the contrary—”

and he rips out the paper from his book, crumples it in his hand, and throws it onto the carpet of the floor, giving his deed not another moment’s notice. he puts his charcoal to a new page in the moment next.

your smile falls.

“do you know how much paper costs?” you demand.

benedict looks back up at you with scrunched eyebrows and a smile having returned to his lips. he tilts his head.

“why? should i?” he inquires. nonchalantly. delight in his ocean eyes.

as if you are making a jest.

as if this is amusing. as if this is nothing.

it reminds you of a recent memory.

eloise had generously given you sheets of paper. hitting a stride in your writing and wanting to continue, you had asked, after much internal deliberation, if you could have a ripped half of a quarto upon running out of all negative space on your current one.

“have a foolscap. have a whole lot of them, actually,” she said easily, taking a good chunk of her stack and handing it off to you.

“eloise, are you certain?”

“of course. it is just paper, after all.”

“right. yes— of course. thank you.”

eloise hummed affirmatively in response, returning to her passage, as you stared at the small stack of foolscap in your hand. that amount of paper would have been eight months’ wage, perhaps even more.

a gentle touch of a hand on yours brought you out of your clouding thoughts. you looked over and saw penelope looking at you softly. understanding her unspoken thoughts, you held her hand and gave it a squeeze.

thank you, you mouthed.

"i must be going,” you say aloud. “goodbye, mr. bridgerton.”

you stand, turn, and quickly exit the drawing room.

“y/n. y/n!”

you hear him scuffling up from his lounge and start to follow you. you hasten your steps towards the entrance.

moments before you can open the doors of bridgerton house to the respite of the outside world, you feel benedict take hold of your wrist, stopping you in your steps, and it infuriates you how gently he does it. how you can pull away from his touch if you want to, how you can just go if you choose to. but you do not.

it infuriates you how much you want him to hold you.

you turn to face him.

“please— wait,” he breathes. “what did i do wrong? what have i done to upset you?”

you look at him incredulously. then it dawns on you.

“please. tell me,” benedict practically begs. with such softness in his voice.

it infuriates you.

“i know money is of no concern to you, or your family, or fair ladies and pretty gentlemen. but it is for the rest of us. for the rest of us who have to work to keep the ones we love fed, clothed, warmed, sheltered. that is a fact with which i have been concerned since the very moment i could think for myself. and for you—of the male sex, of pale skin, of inherited riches—it is something to discard onto the carpet of one of your family’s many houses. the paper you threw to the ground would have paid for a month’s worth of warmth for the entirety of my family’s home. and you ask me what you have done to upset me?”

he says nothing. he just looks at you, damned ocean eyes and all. gentle. attentive. like he could care; like he does care.

you feel your nostrils flaring, your blood pounding in every vein of your body. you finally rip your wrist away from his loose hold, already missing his touch.

“i shall take my leave. please give my regards as well as my apologies to eloise and penelope. goodbye, benedict.”

you turn away from him, yank the door open by its handle, and step outside, walking composedly at first, then quickly, then sprinting, then running. to be as far away from number five of grosvenor square as you possibly can be. to be far away from crumpled up paper, charcoal-stained hands, gentle touches, and ocean eyes.

you rub your wrists against your eyes.

stupid bloody tears.

stupid fucking heart.

why am i so afflicted by this? why am i crying? why do i hurt?

because i love—

no.

you cannot fall for him. he is someone you cannot have, cannot want, cannot— cannot…

it cannot happen, the two of you.

and most likely of all, you are not someone he wants. not someone who he would love. not the way you—

you are a fool for getting this far. but these feelings, they will pass. somehow. you will forget them. you will forget him. this is not the fairytales you read, not the fairytales you write. daydreams, hopes, love for a gentleman— there is a reason you are a writer.

you write the things you can never have, the things that will never happen.

you and benedict will never happen.

this is the prayer you tell yourself that evening before sleep takes you. you pretend not to be affected by the tears that afflict you as you do so.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.vii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< y/n does not go to number five the next week on her non-work day as she had grown accustomed to. she had tried to write at her table in her home to preoccupy herself, but her teardrops were ruining what she had already written. she considers going to work to distract herself, but y/n knows her unexpected presence would be a detriment to her fellow workers’ established flow of day. she decides to go to the markets to try and get fresh air and a change of scenery and to do anything to interrupt her spiral of thoughts and emotions.

< while at the markets, y/n hears her name called and turns to see penelope in her blue cloak. y/n asks what penelope is doing here, and penelope gently replies that she can ask y/n the same thing. she shares with y/n how, the week prior, after she received news that y/n had left bridgerton house, she left to find y/n in the markets and at her workplace but to no avail.

< their conversation continues. penelope shares how y/n was missed last week; by her, by the family, by benedict. y/n tries to dismiss her words and how the past few months have been a mistake and that she shouldn’t be there with pen or the bridgertons, that she’s not meant to be in their world.

< with patience and empathy and grace, penelope gently encourages y/n to return to bridgerton house next week, and y/n, though her heart aching and reluctant, agrees because she misses them. >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.viii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you sigh deeply.

have courage, y/n.

and you rap your knuckles twice against the stately door of number five. a moment later, the door opens, and you are greeted by a beloved grin.

“miss y/n! i have not seen you in weeks!”

you cannot help but smile back.

“good day, giles.”

“oh, where are my manners!” and the elderly doorman bows at you. you huff out a laugh, feeling how your face contorts with distaste.

“blimey, please don’t. i am not a lady, giles.”

“you could’ve fooled me, miss y/n.”

you shoot him a severe look; he merely continues to grin.

“you know of my feelings towards being called ‘miss.’”

“i am getting older; my memory frequently fails me, miss y/n.”

“and yet you’ve recalled how we haven’t seen each other in two weeks.”

“three.”

you grin.

“precisely.”

“well, it was quite the surprise when I fell ill the following week!” then giles frowns. “and it was an even greater surprise to have not seen you when i had returned the week following that.”

you look at the ground, unable to face the inquisition in his sad, kindly look, but when you bring your head back up, you manage a smile.

“it is no matter. i am here now. that is most important, yes?”

the elderly man smiles.

“yes, i suppose you are right, y/n,” and he holds the door open for you to pass.

“aside from bouts with ailment, how have you been, giles?”

“still standing upright, still opening and closing doors,” he beams without a bit of sarcasm. “and what of you? how have you been?”

“i’ve been—— well. and the family?” you say quickly, wanting to move the conversation away from you and your feelings.

“the same as is to be expected. though—”

concern starts to swell in your heart. what has happened in the fortnight you have not been present?

“mister benedict has been absolutely despondent.”

“oh,” is all you say. giles’ gentle joviality transforms into solemnity, and it makes your heart ache even further.

“on the rare occasions i do see him now, he is leaving for the gentleman’s club in the bright light of day and coming home at an ungodly hour, drunk as a wheelbarrow, wreaking of what smells like every available spirit in london. he had stopped dipping rather deep sometime ago, much to my relief, so it was an utter shock to return to my station and to see him back on the cut, and deeply at that,” the elderly man sighs. “i wonder what has happened for him to be so…” he unexpectedly turns to you, his countenance sanguine, “do you happen to know?”

you swallow as you ignore the sensation pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“no, i— i do not.”

“i see. well, whatever it might be, it is clear how much it deeply afflicts him,” and giles offers you a small, sad smile. “you know mister benedict; he has always been the most sensitive of the family.”

i do.

i do know benedict.

you clear your throat.

“do you happen to know where eloise and penelope are at this moment?”

giles cocks his head at you but is kind enough (you thank the heavens) not to press your change of topic.

“the last i had seen them, they had spoken of viewing the art gallery. do you know the way?”

“i am unfamiliar.”

he smiles again, and it makes you smile in return.

“then i am most glad to escort you there.”

–

giles opens the doors to the gallery, and ahead, in front of a portrait, you see the turnings of penelope, eloise, and—

“y/n,” he utters.

“benedict,” you breathe.

and he looks just as surprised as you are.

you look to giles, his eyes wide and mouth agape, and then to eloise and penelope. upon seeing their expressions, you feel your eyes narrow.

“ah, penelope!” shouts eloise. everyone else turns to stare at her. “with y/n’s arrival, i must change out of my, my art gallery viewing dress! and— and, into my... drawing room! sitting— dress...”

eloise scrunches her entire face in displeasure, confused by her own poorly concocted excuse. that does nothing to deter her, however, from clamping onto penelope’s wrist and barreling forward towards the doors of the gallery.

“come along, pen!” she calls out to the friend she is pulling right behind her. as they pass you, eloise gives you a strange and strained smile bearing all teeth, and penelope offers apologetic eyes and an encouraging smile.

giles looks to you, to benedict, and to the two escaping ladies. mouth still agape, all he manages is,

“i suppose— i shall see to that— miss bridgerton and miss featherington arrive to miss bridgerton’s bedchamber... safe—ly…?”

he mouths, i’m sorry!, at you before quickly bowing his head at benedict, fleeing the scene with remarkable speed for an elderly man who has recently recovered from illness, and leaving you at the entrance of the art gallery.

closing your eyes, you deeply inhale through your nostrils as you place your hand to the space between your eye and your temple. on your exhale, you wipe your hand hard against the side of your face and open your eyes, whipping your head to look at the second eldest bridgerton brother. it seems that he has been staring at you this entire time, stupid (stunning) ocean eyes and all.

“would you like to paint a picture?” you snark. “you are the artist in the room, and it would certainly last longer. or perhaps you have run out of paper?”

he does not respond, indecipherable expression unchanging, and it unnerves you how guilty you feel at goading him, at taunting him, and he merely takes it. you sigh again and cross the gallery to where he stands. resisting the urge to look at him again, as you feel his gaze still on you, you instead look at the painting ahead of you.

it is a portrait of a gentleman. with dark chestnut hair and mutton chops. he wears a blue jacket, a darker blue vest, a cream cravat, green breeches, and brown boots. a watch on a ribbon hangs from his vest; it looks familiar. he looks familiar. a benevolent smile rests on his lips.

you look at the plaque at the bottom of the gilded frame.

edmund bridgerton, the 8th viscount bridgerton.

you look back up at the painting, captured by a particular feature.

“you have his eyes.”

“his are gray; mine are blue.”

you roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. (you try to ignore the flutterings that bloom upon hearing his voice again.)

“yes, but that’s not what i was referring to. they peer into you— not with scrutiny, nor judgment, but with kindness, curiosity, compassion. an eagerness to learn about you. pools of welcoming. cool tones that radiate warmth.”

you cough, ripping your eyes away from the portrait to inspect the scuffs of your boots. you feel embarrassment spread throughout your entire body as heat creeps up your neck.

“the painter is excellent at their craft. it is as if i know him, your father.”

silence falls in the expansive gallery, the calm and kind eyes of viscount bridgerton looking down upon you and his second eldest.

“i’ve missed you.”

you snap your head up to look at benedict, your eyes making contact with his ocean ones. welcoming and warm. honest and... hopeful?

i’ve missed you, too.

“benedict, it has only been a fortnight since we saw each other last,” you respond aloud, your voice coming out so much softer than you had intended. you offer him a small smile, an olive branch of sorts. something of relief starts to fill his ocean eyes, but his demeanor does not change.

“i behaved arrogantly, and you did not deserve to be the recipient of such behavior. no one does, and i am so— i am so sorry, y/n.”

and you know he is. you resist the urge to touch his cheek, to comfort him with your caress, to selfishly have your skin touch his. instead, you look on at him.

“i do not ask you to grant me your forgiveness; i know i am unworthy of it. i just— i just wanted you to know how i felt, and feel still. and how i shall work on myself to be better, to do better.”

the butterflies in your stomach flutter maddeningly. you emit an exhale from your nostrils. the urge to touch him intensifies, and you feel yourself flex your hand to let go of the sensation. you huff out another breath, and smile brightly, sincerely, at benedict.

“well,” you begin, “with our friendship renewed, care to show me what other paintings you love in this gallery?”

benedict’s ocean eyes beam with relief and joy, a brilliant smile lighting up his face, and it takes all your self-control not to drop all discretion and wrap your arms around him in a crushing embrace.

“i would love nothing more, y/n,” he declares.

you try not to flutter your eyes closed at the words ‘i,’ ‘love,’ and your name in the same breath from benedict’s lips. at the pleasantness and home you feel in them. you smile on.

“where shall we begin, then?”

you and benedict walk together as he approaches a miniature in a wooden frame ornately carved with floral motifs. he admits that he has not the slightest clue which bridgerton ancestor this is, and that makes you snort. grinning, he points out how adeptly the artist portrayed the translucency and fluidity of the lady’s veil and how particularly impressive it must have been to accomplish such effects in paints during the early 1600s, if the remnant dating of the artist’s signature is correct. you remark how particularly impressive it is that a painting has endured two hundred years of existence, details still intact, and benedict responds simply that rich people have a way. that makes you snort again, and that makes benedict grin again.

he then leads you to a portrait of kathani and anthony, the viscountess sat in a chair with the viscount stood behind. you marvel at the painting—how much it looks like them, how much it captures kathani’s confidence, how much it captures anthony’s conviction, how much it captures their love. excitement coloring his voice, benedict imparts to you how he was given the opportunity to observe and assist the painter on the days the latter was commissioned to portray the viscountess and the viscount. he also shares with you how impossibly difficult they were as models, always giggling and kissing and looking away from the painter and talking to one another, being overall sickeningly saccharine. you chortle and share with him how that does not surprise you in the least bit. despite his annoyance upon recalling the memory, an incredibly fond smile rests on benedict’s lips. turning from his lips back to the painting, you remark how in love they are, and he remarks that, indeed, they very much are—and turns his fond smile from the painting to you.

coughing, you walk over and ask about the landscape of an enormous building. benedict names it as aubrey hall, the ancestral home of the bridgertons. you recall how you had heard of it early on in your friendship with the bridgertons; you had been unable to see them one week as they were preparing for kathani’s first ball as viscountess at the home. you also recall how the usually collected and confident kathani was anxious and uncertain during that time. benedict, beaming with pride, says how, of course, she absolutely excelled and how all of the ton—he rolls his eyes then and you guffaw—enjoyed themselves at the event. while kathani had done an unsurprisingly resplendent job, the ball was not very entertaining to benedict. he much more enjoyed the annual bridgerton game of pall mall leading up to the event. after announcing how kathani had won—much to the contradictory disappointment and delight of her husband—and answering your questions about what sounds, to you, like a very silly, very fun game, benedict suggests that you join them next year. you laugh, finding it impossible to imagine yourself at a home such as aubrey hall, particularly for the entirety of three days, but your heart swells at the invitation and the sincerity in his voice, and you say aloud how you would love nothing more.

your spontaneous tour eventually comes to an end, and the two of you make your way towards the entrance, still discussing the various art you had seen. as you and benedict walk out of the gallery, a thought crosses your mind.

“none of your work is on display.”

you notice how benedict stiffens. you feel your smile tug into a frown.

“ah, yes. i do not think my work is— up to snuff— with the work on display here.”

“horse shit.”

benedict’s jaw drops, his face aghast and regaled in reaction to what you assume is your choice of language. you merely shrug.

“you have not even seen my work!”

“i do not need to see your work when i can already see how harsh you are being.”

he scoffs, and it aggravates you.

“fine— i will show you, then, and prove to you my point.”

“fine, then! show me, and i will prove to you my point!”

–

“you are full of horse shit!”

you and benedict are in his bedchamber, where all his works are hidden away. he has shown you canvas after canvas, sketch after sketch, charcoal drawing after charcoal drawing, his palette of color ideas— and he still has the audacity to say that his work is not “up to snuff” for the bridgerton gallery.

benedict looks aghast again, perhaps by your language, perhaps by what you are (very rightly, very correctly) insisting. he shakes the canvas that he holds in his hand in your face.

“look at the proportions, y/n! they are entirely off!”

you roll your eyes, swatting his arm away, and begin to rummage through his other work. you pull a sheet and hold it up to benedict’s face.

“look at this sketch, then look at the canvas. there is a very clear, marked improvement, and with only a—” you look at the dates at the bottom right corners for confirmation, “—a difference of two days!”

“what does ‘improvement’ mean if the improvement is not even good!”

“it is good! and! improvement is everything, benedict! it is progress!”

“what—”

you and benedict jump back from one another by the sudden new voice. you had not realized how close the two of you were as you were shouting at one another, how close your faces were to one another, how close your lips were to—

a blazing heat creeps up your neck, at the tip of your ears, and across your cheeks as you turn from benedict’s flustered face to the scowl of the eldest bridgerton sibling in the doorway.

“—are the two of you doing?”

“brother! i— i was merely showing y/n my work.”

you vigorously nod your head. anthony’s glare remains unaffected.

“alone? together? in your bedchamber?”

your heart almost leaps out of your chest, your eyes about to bulge out of their sockets as you look around the room, suddenly aware of where you are. you are in benedict’s bedchamber. alone. together.

“i—” you start, very pathetically. “i—— we—”

anthony curtly bows his head at you.

“y/n, i would like to have a word with my brother. in private. please.”

“of— of course, right— of course!”

you hastily put the sketch on a nearby table and walk towards the door, pass anthony as he steps in, and are about to run down the hall and away from the scene when—

you turn and steal a glance at benedict, mustering up all the apologies you can convey through your eyes. despite the peril of his current predicament, his ocean eyes soften immediately, and a thousand butterflies erupt in your stomach and flutter around viciously. he offers you a slight smile, one that is sincere and unregretful. you offer one back, just as sincere, just as unregretful, before anthony gives you another bow of his head and closes the door.

–

“are you pleased by the results of your consorted trickery?” you state blandly upon seeing the young ladies that you thought were your friends sitting in the drawing room.

eloise looks up from her pamphlet, beaming at you, as penelope wears a wide and proud smile. well, at least they have answered your question.

“trickery?” eloise feigns. you roll your eyes; their expressions answer honestly, but their words continue their game. “i have no idea what you are referring to. pen and i were merely keen on viewing the art gallery today, and i thought, my blue-deviled of an elder brother ought to stop moping about; what better to get him to leave his bedchamber than by way of his favorite topic?”

“and his other favorite topic,” penelope adds. eloise chortles, and you feel the tips of your ears heat.

“what is that supposed to mean!”

eloise waves a dismissive hand at you.

“benedict knew nothing of your arrival, as i am sure you deduced by his surprise,” but the second eldest daughter grins wickedly. “though, from the sheer amount of time you have spent together thus far today, i am also sure the surprise was very welcomed, indeed.”

“by both parties, it seems.”

you promptly ignore the flush you feel on the apples of your cheeks. your friends are lucifer incarnate split into two.

“well, then you must be delighted to know that your shared plot has led to punitive action against him.”

that surprises them. (good. you are relieved to finally have some sort of an upperhand in this conversation.)

“‘punitive action’? by whom? for what?”

“by—”

the three of you hear a set of footsteps. you look to where the sounds are heard and see the two eldest bridgerton siblings enter the drawing room, the elder approaching you with conviction and the younger trailing behind him like a pet that has just been reprimanded. the sight would make you laugh, if you weren’t the one to have instigated the current conflict between the two brothers.

anthony stands before you, posture perfect and chin held up high.

“y/n, thank you for your patience. please allow me to apologize most ardently on behalf of my brother for his complete and utter lack of propriety. it will not happen again as i shall be more vigilant in tracking his every deed. i do hope this incident of my brother’s disrespect does not taint the beloved friendship between you and our family.”

and he deeply bows his head at you.

your jaw drops. benedict shuts his eyes tight and scrunches his face. penelope bops her gaze amongst the three of you. and eloise just howls, causing anthony to break the gravitas of his decorum and shoot a glare at her.

“it is no laughing matter, eloise!”

“it is harmless fun, brother! a pursuit of intellect exchanged between two creatives, who also happened to be by themselves. i have never heard of a baby being conceived from sharing some art.”

“ELOISE BRIDGERTON!”

you have now entirely hidden your face behind your hands; no one needs to witness the deep crimson that you are certain is spreading very rapidly across your countenance. an absurd hope also blooms in you that if you cannot see the others, then the others cannot see you.

“what ever is the matter in here?”

your eyes shoot open upon hearing the much needed voice of reason. removing your hands from your face, you see kathani enter the drawing room, a confused expression worn on her face.

“my dearest,” anthony begins, “i have offered my deepest apologies to y/n for benedict’s disgrace.”

“disgrace,” scoffs eloise, crossing her arms.

“disgrace!” reiterates anthony with increased fervor. kathani’s confusion does not lighten. she looks to benedict, whose eyes are scrunched closed again (his nose looks adorable this way), and then to you.

“are you all right, y/n?” she inquires gently.

“i—” you had intended to say, am well, but that would be a lie. you are utterly mortified. so, instead, you state the truth.

“benedict has been a gentleman. he has treated me with the utmost respect, and when he has done wrong by me— which! which has nothing to do with our being in his bedchamber!— he—” you steady your voice, determined to say this right, as you know and feel it with and in your heart, “he has corrected himself and bettered his words and thoughts and deeds.”

“you hear that, brother? no harm has been done.”

“eloise, you were not even there!”

“i believe what eloise means, anbe, is that you are being dramatic.”

“dramat— they were in his bedchamber, kathani! together! alone!”

kathani rolls her eyes, her attempt at diplomacy entirely gone.

“speak louder, anthony; just a bit more and the entire country shall hear you.”

the viscount pouts grumpily at his beloved, emitting a huff of air through his nostrils.

“you must trust y/n by her word,” the viscountess states.

“or do you not trust someone of feminine disposition to speak for herself?” eloise inquires.

“pen!”

you all snap your gazes to the entrance of the drawing room and see colin making his way to your friend in blue, followed by—

“y/n!” shouts gregory and hyacinth as they run towards you.

“y/n, penelope!” remarks violet and approaches you both. “how delightful it is to see you! you—” she says, reaching out for your hand, gently taking it in hers, and smiling kindly at you, “—in particular. it has been a moment, y/n.”

it melts your heart, really. the sincerity of affection that flows so easily from violet bridgerton. you recall the kind eyes and benevolent smile of her late husband. it is no wonder you so easily fell in love with this family; true, real love is woven into the very fabrics of each of their beings.

you look at them. hyacinth and gregory cling onto your slides, holding you tight. kathani and anthony are engrossed in debate, affection in their eyes despite the heat in their words. colin and penelope speak with and blush around one another as eloise, unknowingly (and, in your opinion, frustratingly, endearingly), butts into their conversation. and benedict. who, with the gaze of the entire room no longer on his so-called indiscretion, is looking at you. softly. with those damned, wondrous, bewitching ocean eyes. a smile on his lips that makes the flutterings in your stomach unbearingly, wonderfully unyielding.

you truly, really love this family.

you love the bridgertons.

“though,” the dowager viscountess starts.

shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you see how violet looks at the others in the room as half of them now pointedly avoid eye contact with the matriarch and the other half share a similar sentiment to her.

“is everything all right?” she turns to you, peering curiously into your eyes. “has something happened?”

you cannot help the laugh that bubbles out of you. violet seems taken aback by your reaction, as are the others in your periphery, but her eyes, as well as theirs, shine on.

“i think,” you say, smiling, “it is just another day with the bridgertons.”

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anotherkindofmindpod · 11 months

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I think you guys need to make a special tweet for the segment where you explain how Lewisohn literally edits (disingenuously, without parenthesis) out the part in John’s statement about Jim’s physical abuse. Because, wow: that’s a game-changer. That he felt comfortable doing so is beyond the pale. I can’t even express how it makes me feel, entirely, but I think it taps into that wrong place in everyone who’s experienced abuse. It’s infuriating, actually.

Thanks, Anon. We agree- it's infuriating! Here's the section from the transcript of the episode: ---

Daphne: He writes on page 33: It was all irresistibly magnetic. But Paul's predicament never changed: his dad didn't approve. This wasn't going to stop him, but he loved his dad and valued his own good reputation too much to openly rebel like John. It made John mad, and all the more determined to be the troublemaker Jim said he was.

Phoebe: Lewisohn then quotes John from the 1971 St. Regis interview the source of which, by the way, is given in a footnote not in the text. He quotes John as saying, Paul always wanted the home life. He liked it with daddy and the brother, and obviously missed his mother. And his dad was the whole thing. Just simple things like he wouldn't go against his dad and wear drainpipe trousers. He treated Paul like a child all the time, cut his hair and telling him what to wear at 17, 18. I was always saying 'don't take that shit off him.' I was brought up by a woman so maybe it was different. But I wouldn't let the old man treat me like that.

Okay, the problem with this is that Lewisohn omits, with no ellipses, what we believe is a vitally important line from this classic Lennon rant. John does say the thing about drainpipe trousers, but then he adds this:

And I was always saying, face up to your dad, tell him to fuck off! He can't hit you. You can kill him! He's an old man. I used to say 'don't take that shit off of him!' Because I was always brought up by a woman. So maybe it was different. But I wouldn't let the old man treat me like that.

Daphne: So he omits the part about John mentioning Jim hitting Paul.

--- As I mentioned in the episode, Lewisohn using John's quote to frame John as being "mad" at Paul for being weak and image-conscious is not the best judgment (are we 1000% certain John is mad at Paul here rather than Jim?) and, given what we know about Jim's abuse, in especially poor taste. The full conversation can be head HERE

#AKOM #Fine Tuning #Shells & Barriers

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foreverlogical · 3 months

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It long had seemed that the “stall” would be the worst thing the Supreme Court could do when it came to Donald Trump’s claim of immunity from prosecution. How naive.

Delay there will be. The six justices in the Republican-appointed supermajority held, “A former president is entitled to absolute immunity from criminal prosecution for actions within his ‘conclusive and preclusive constitutional authority.’” They added, “There is no immunity for unofficial acts.” Rather than make clear that trying to overthrow the Constitution’s peaceful transfer of power is not an official act, the justices send the whole matter back to trial judge Tanya Chutkan. Expect more consideration, more parsing, more rulings, more appeals. It will all likely end up at the Supreme Court again in a year, if the whole prosecution isn’t shut down entirely.

But damage to our system goes well beyond delay. Trump v. U.S. astounds in its implications. It grants the president the power of a monarch. Richard Nixon defended his conduct in Watergate, telling interviewer David Frost, “When the president does it, that means it’s not illegal.” Effectively, the Supreme Court’s supermajority has now enshrined that brazen claim.

To be clear, there are reasons to be nervous about prosecuting former chief executives, so some standards make sense. In this case, though, the Court has issued an instruction manual for future lawbreaking presidents: Make sure you conspire only with other government employees. You’ll never be held to account.

What makes something an official act? “In dividing official from unofficial conduct, courts may not inquire into the President’s motives,” the justices ruled. And a jury cannot learn about the other parts of a criminal conspiracy that may involve official acts.

Justice Amy Coney Barrett did not agree with this last critical point. She said that of course juries can consider the context of a criminal act. Neither Justice Samuel Alito (who flew insurrectionist flags outside his two homes) nor Justice Clarence Thomas (whose wife was on the Ellipse on January 6) recused themselves. They cast the deciding votes to keep from jurors the full story of the attempted overthrow of the Constitution.

The founders said repeatedly that presidents have no special immunity, as a brief filed by the Brennan Center on behalf of top historians made plain. After all, that was one of the very things about the British monarchy that they hated and against which they rebelled.

Even more directly, this ruling undoes the restrictions on presidential abuse of power put in place by officials and jurists of both parties since the 1970s.

The imperial presidency described an age of growing executive authority and abuse of power. It came crashing to an end during Watergate and after revelations about the misuse of intelligence and law enforcement by Nixon’s predecessors.

The presidential immunity concocted today would have blessed most of Nixon’s crimes. Nixon ordered his White House counsel to pay hush money to burglars in an Oval Office meeting on March 21, 1973. Presumptively an official act? He dangled clemency before E. Howard Hunt, one of the conspirators. Use of the pardon power — entirely immune? He resigned when a tape revealed he had ordered the CIA to go to the FBI to end the investigation of the burglars sent by his campaign committee. “Play it tough,” he told his White House chief of staff. On its face, official.

What about other criminal cases involving high officials? In the Iran-Contra scandal of the late 1980s, numerous officials were charged (including the national security advisor and the defense secretary). Ronald Reagan faced no charges, but not because he was presumed immune. What if he did break the law — would he have escaped accountability? In 2001, federal prosecutors probed whether Bill Clinton sold pardons. They cleared him — but issuing a pardon is surely an official act.

In her dissent, Justice Sonia Sotomayor said it plainly: “Under [the majority’s] rule, any use of official power for any purpose, even the most corrupt purpose indicated by objective evidence of the most corrupt motives and intent, remains official and immune. Under the majority’s test, if it can be called a test, the category of Presidential action that can be deemed ‘unofficial’ is destined to be vanishingly small.”

So, yes, all this will delay Trump’s trial. In that sense, he gets what he craved. But the implications are far worse for the structure of American self-government.

It is a massive failure for Chief Justice John Roberts. The other major rulings on presidential accountability for legal wrongdoing have been unanimous. U.S. v. Nixon (limiting executive privilege) was written by the Republican chief justice Nixon appointed, and it was unanimous. Clinton v. Jones (opening the president to civil suit even while in office) was unanimous. Let’s grant that Roberts is an institutionalist. He is presiding over the collapse of public trust in the very institution he purports to revere.

And Trump v. U.S. has enormous implications for the future of the presidency. Remember that utterly bonkers hypothetical from the appeals court argument — that a president could order SEAL Team Six to assassinate an opponent? Sotomayor again: “A hypothetical President who admits to having ordered the assassinations of his political rivals or critics . . . has a fair shot at getting immunity under the majority’s new Presidential accountability model.”

We read sonorous language in the majority opinion that “the president is not above the law.” But just in time for Independence Day, the Supreme Court brings us closer to having a king again.

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gettingfrilly · 1 year

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Let's talk about Eddy's family

Out of the three boys, I feel we know the least about Eddy's family. We may have met his brother, the only adult to ever have a role in the show, but of the Eds, he talks about his parents the least. And I refuse to believe his brother is just Like That all on his own. Something happened to that guy and I wanna know what.

So, let's look at what we know:

Eddy was physically abused by his big brother. On the flip side, his big brother also passed his knowledge onto him, the show implying that his bro took on the role of a mentor in Eddy's life. Eddy also inherited a lot of his brother's stuff from him; whether Eddy's brother had a choice in that matter or not is unknown, since Eddy could have simply taken the items out of his brother's room after he was gone.

Bro is much older than Eddy, though we don't know exactly by how much.

in the episode 'Ed... Pass it on...' we learn that the older boys in the neighborhood (Kevin and Rolf), who would have clearer memories of him than the other kids, are terrified of bro.

Eddy idolizes his brother. He pulls his pranks, wears his clothes, and speaks his praises any chance he gets.

Eddy's dad is most likely a homophobe judging by the implications of the only direct description we get of him in the bible. He doesn't want his son to be gay and worries that he is.

Eddy's mom thinks Eddy can do no wrong. Now, I've seen a lot of people interpret the line about Eddy's mom as a continuation of the line about his dad, and that she, too, is homophobic but doesn't believe Eddy is gay. However, I think they're separate statements. Eddy is a guy who gets in a lot of trouble, and usually when a kid gets in trouble, their mom is the first to be told. I think what the bible is communicating to us is that Eddy's mom flat out doesn't believe the stories about the trouble Eddy gets up to. It's probably one of the biggest reasons he keeps making trouble without fear of consequences.

Here's where things get a little more up to interpretation-y:

Here we have Eddy throwing a mug that says "#1 son" out of his closet. So. Yeah. He's the favorite child and his parents aren't afraid to say it out loud.

Eddy's dad, like Eddy, seems to have a short temper and isn't shy of getting physical with people, including his own children (important to keep in mind that this is a hyperbolic, slapstick cartoon, and not any sort of canon proof that Eddy's dad is abusive.)

Then there's the way Bro is talked about in the bible. "Before his brother went... away," why the ellipses? Was there something else to be said other than just "away?" I think the hint here is that Eddy's brother didn't just grow up and move out. There was some sort of inciting incident that lead to him living on his own. There's also the fact that Eddy has no idea where his brother lives in BPS, and that when he does show up, the first thing his bro asks is "Do mom and dad know you're here?" Eddy answers "AS IF!" which tells me that Eddy's parents would not approve of Eddy being around his brother, and both brothers are aware of that. This is followed up by bro asking "Does ANYONE know you're here?" Which. Big scary imo. Really fucking weird thing to ask your little brother before you start beating on him. Like he wanted to know what he could get away with.

So with all that in mind, here's my own personal headcanon that is not in anyway present in canon this is just what i like to imagine happened:

Eddy's brother was the family's scapegoat, whereas Eddy (in his mother's eyes, at least) was the golden child. Extremely rarely do children grow up to be violent just because. I think bro learned that behavior at home. I've discussed before that I think Eddy has ADHD, and that shit hella genetic, so I think his bro has it, too. Their mom and dad were new parents when they first had bro, and probably knew squat about raising a neurodivergent kid, and neurodivergent children are more likely to be victims of abuse. When corporal punishment didn't end up working out so well on bro, I think his parents changed tactics for Eddy. I also personally think that his mom felt guilty for how bro was raised, which is why she's so lenient with Eddy. So now, bro is jealous of Eddy and bitter about his own abusive upbringing, and he takes this out on Eddy by being exceptionally cruel and violent towards him.

This led to bro eventually doing something bad enough to get his ass sent to either juvie or prison, depending on how old he was at the time. This was hidden from Eddy, who adores his older brother, and was told that his brother had simply moved out. And that's how things ended up how they are in the show and how Eddy's brother ended up the way that he is. Again, this is just my own imagination. While it makes sense as something that could be true when you look at canon, I don't think canon actually props it up as accurate in any way. Anyway, I'm curious to hear what you guys think of bro and Eddy's family!!! especially if any of you know what the hell "Eddy's genes are working the fastest" means.

#eene #ed edd n eddy #gettingfrillyspeaks

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theboarsbride · 1 year

Text

A Court of Thorns and Roses (Rant) Review.

Rating: 2⭐⭐/5 stars

Genre: Fantasy/Romance

Length: 420 pages

Review: Soooo……..needless to say I really did not enjoy this book (nor did I ever really anticipate such because this was a hate-read and I cannot stand SJM as both an author and a person lmao). This is going to be a long rant review, and I know a lot of what I'll bring up has been brought up previously in other reviews, but I will still try to provide new insight nonetheless! This review will come in segments, and can be accessed beneath the cut.

ALSO!! There will be spoilers throughout this review. Don't read any further if you don't wish to be spoiled!

AND ALSO! This is merely my opinion. If you enjoy this series, AWESOME! I'm glad for you, this just isn't for me, and I, in good faith, cannot give this book a good review.

⚠️AND NOW CONTENT WARNINGS⚠️ There will be mentions of sexual assault and overall abusive and possessive behavior. I will mark parts of the review that mention these themes with an asterisks (*) so that you may avoid that content if you're not up for reading about it.

NOW ONTO THE REVIEW!!

1. What I liked - While this was still a hate-read I don't want to be a total downer and I wanted to find something about SJM's writing that I enjoyed. Granted there wasn't a lot, but they were still there!

- To start, I feel like SJM can write really interesting and tense action scenes. The opening scene with the killing of the wolf, the naga chase scene (which, like… why are we getting naga in this very clearly English/Celtic folklore-inspired world, and to never have similar creatures featured again?), the trials Under the Mountain, etc. Just, overall, the third act taking place Under the Mountain was so fun!! Like, it wasn't great and still riddled with SJM's writing and other uhhhh questionable stuff (we'll get there), but overall I enjoyed it so much more than the previous two-thirds of the book!

- There were also some romantic moments that I thought were really sweet, and I wish we saw more of that! I wish we saw more of Feyre and Tamlin’s relationship blossom more!

Now onto stuff I didn't like…..(there's a lot)

1. The Writing and Characters - I can't stand SJM's writing style. The obvious annoyance is her overuse of em dashes, and also ellipses. Both of these were so incredibly unnecessary in her work, and only distracted me, and slowed my reading.

- And also she reuses the same sentence structure, and it annoyed me once I noticed it (ex.- i was going to the bathroom, which was white and clean and shining. Then, I went to school, a place that was dull and bland and boring.)

- Like jfc. I wholeheartedly believe the conspiracy that no one actually edits SJM's book because good LORD.

- I refuse to believe that SJM knows, or would even care to know, how to write believable poor people. I refuse to believe that Feyre’s family has been destitute for nearly a decade - because they sure as hell don’t come across like it. Feyre’s sisters, Elaine and Nesta, act so dainty and bitchy about work and survival despite living this way for ALMOST 10 YEARS. Their mentalities, how they react to being poor, how they treat their belongings, how they treat and handle their food, how they handle their money, etc. doesn’t line up for me. I just don’t buy it.

- Also in relation to this point: Feyre is weirdly quick to let Tamlin’s servants wait on her hand and foot. Her psychology, how she thinks, and engages with Tamlin’s manor around her doesn’t fit with someone who’s spent eight years living in violent poverty and starving.

- A bit of a nitpick but, it bothers me that SJM writes Feyre as a painter yet I, for the life of me, couldn't tell you what her style is, how her artwork looks, or even what ANY piece of art looks like in this world. Feyre talks about her artistic eye and all that, but to me that description means nothing. Being a painter and liking art does nothing for Feyre's character, it's such a useless detail when it could be something that adds depth to her character and shows the reader how she views art, how she views the world, etc. This just shows me that SJM did nothing to research art, styles, and mediums, nor does she actually care about her character writing enough to utilize art as a way to elevate Feyre as a character.

- The pacing is so boring. It’s just painfully slow and stuff that could be exciting is skimmed over and never elaborated on, and all that really happens for the first two-thirds of the book is just Feyre vibing (and being passive aggressive towards) Tamlin and Lucien.

2. This is a fairytale retelling? - This book has EVERYTHING I absolutely loathe about modern day fairytale retellings - more specifically retellings of Beauty and the Beast.

- It fails as a retelling, in general, because it completely misses the point of the fairytaleS (there are multiple going on in ACOTAR) and ends up being a shallow husk of these classic tales.

- ACOTAR markets itself as a retelling of several fairytales: Beauty and the Beast, East of the Sun, West of the Moon (a Norwegian variant of BatB featuring a 'beast' that is a polar bear by day and a handsome prince by night), Eros & Psyche (a Greek myth that's widely accepted as one of the original versions of the 'monster bride-groom' narrative framework), and the Ballad of Tam-Lin (a Scottish folktale that features a man cursed by a queen of faeries). And yet I feel like it fails all of these stories, primarily Beauty and the Beast. BatB is a story about kindness and love, and loving someone for who they are as opposed to what they look like, and ACOTAR embodies the very thing I hate about modern retellings of this story: a ‘beast’ that is outwardly handsome and the only ‘beastly’ thing about him is being hypermasculine, aggressive, toxic, and cruel while offering little opportunities of redemption. Except, Tamlin isn’t necessarily all of those things. Conventionally hot and hypermasculine, yes, but he’s been nothing but gracious and nice to Feyre. And WHY is he named ‘Tamlin’, obviously being named after the titular Tam-Lin from Scottish folklore, and SJM does nothing to give this story a ‘Scottish flair’? Which brings me to my next point:

3. Worldbuilding - There is nothing about this world that convinces me that this is unique. It does nothing to differentiate itself from other fantasy worlds, or even our modern world! You can tell that there are medieval and Rococo/Georgian Europe influences, but that’s only in fashion and aesthetics. But the faeries?

- To me, they’re nothing more than conventionally attractive people with pointy ears and MAYBE magic. Tolkien elves, pretty much! Like, deadass, I pictured Tamlin looking like Legolas but jacked as fuck (AND WHY COULDN’T WE GET MORE OF TAMLIN’S BEAST FORM!?!?!?!? UUGHH!!!! BIG SAD!!). There were so few, like… FAERIE faeries, and whenever there were any the only indicators SJM would offer are differing skin tones, sharp teeth, claws, wings, etc. They just felt so uninspired and lazy (teetering between underdeveloped spectral entities or LOTR elves) … why write about faeries if you’re not going to put in the effort to flesh them out as FAERIES? I once saw someone say that what SJM is doing to faeries is what Stephanie Meyer did to vampires and honestly??? I agree.

- I will forever be bitter that SJM decided to write about faeries and did NOTHING new with fae lore.

- *I know this gets explained a little more in the second book (which… I will get to that when I write my ACOMAF review because i’ve thoughts) but what exactly is this world’s religious system? Because you never get a good feel for it. I say this because several times Lucien mentions ‘Hell’, as in capital ‘h’ Hell - Christian Hell. Why would he say this when humans are agnostic/athiest with a sparse numbr of fae-worshiping cults (and were once implied to have had a polytheistic religion that differs from our world’s Christianity) and fae worship the Cauldron and other faerie deities so like.....why would SJM not use a few extra braincells to create her own version of Hell rather than using lazy cultural shorthand that, by the logic of this book's world, doesn't work???? And this is a recurring theme in ACOTAR: lazy, underdeveloped, under explained world-building.

- *This might just be me but I hate the fated mates trope in this series. It just seems like a way to sexualize domestic abuse, and it doesn’t allow me to enjoy seeing a budding relationship to develop if we’re told that these two characters are SUPPOSED to be together and are MEANT to be in love and have sex!! (also a me thing: the way SJM sexualizes stuff is a personal ick… her ships are built more upon sex and sexual attraction rather than romantic feelings, which just isn’t for me and makes me struggle to believe people to actually be in love despite how much the author tries to convince me of such). Also the violent gender essentialism and heteronormativity :( ….it only gets worse in the second book.

- Why must we refer to everyone as male and female??? I would give this a pass if the faeries were more faerie and less human but… these fae are just humans with pointy ears, so I am deeply uncomfortable by the constant use of ‘male’ and ‘female.’ (I’m convinced that SJM is into omegaverse erotica, and I’d honestly have more respect for her if she just wrote straight-up, shameless omegaverse erotica rather than trying to write a vaguely developed fantasy story that fails to deliver on the epic plot it’s trying to sell to me.)

4. Feyre - She is a dumb protagonist (and I blame the author). She is dumb and deserves death - and you can tell that this is a plot-convenience brand of stupidity, unfortunately. Like the instance with the Puca. She suddenly sees her crippled father on Tamlin's land in Prythian in the middle of the night??? Given the wary hostility and aggression and distrust she's been displaying towards everyone and everything so far in Prythian, why isn't she doing the same in this instance???? She's said herself she is wary of faerie tricks, and acknowledged that not even whole, able-bodied humans are able to survive in Prythian without the help of a faerie, so why would she think her disabled father, who is helpless in the mortal realm, be any different??? And why would she care that her father has come for her??? Did she not wish that her family starves without her, so that they realize she's important to them and she holds them in such an embittered contempt?????

- Tamlin and Feyre have no chemistry. It just feels like I should be shipping them because this is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast and all that, but I just don't. SJM is relying heavily on a fairytale framework while also doing nothing to even try to convince me that these two characters are meant to be together. Their relationship is so dry and it feels like the attraction comes from nowhere, and only starting with physical attraction - which, to me, goes against the message of BATB, of loving someone for who they are rather than what they look like. The two of them, respectively, have more chemistry with Lucien than each other. Hell, why not make them a throuple???🤨 now THAT I'd ship because all three have banter, and any interaction with Lucien is so much fun to read.

- Also……how the fuck did Feyre not figure out Amarantha’s riddle?

5. *Rhysand - Yes. He gets his own section because I HATE him - and I HATE that he is destined to be the endgame love interest. He is a character we’re meant to root redemption for but I fucking refuse. And this is why.

- Rhysand has the perfect set up to be a scary asf villain, not a love interest. We will talk more about Rhysand and why he and Feyre are a ship I refuse to get behind, but that will be reserved for future updates.

- For now: Rhys is great for a scary villain! He is night incarnate, he has snark, he has an imposing presence, and he can invade the minds of others......and he invades Feyre's mind, which she described as being immensely uncomfortable and painful, and she is afraid. Mind you, he does this without her consent. Keep in mind that everything he does beyond this point is without her consent and he is doing it as himself and for his own gain, not the influence of love pollen or magic. He is doing it while totally aware and sober. That's why he is a horrible person and a creep.

- He does many things without Feyre’s consent. He tortures, assaults, drugs, and harms her all without consent without anything else compelling his will other than himself.

- He forces her into a deal in which she is to spend one week a month in the Night Court with him, and he does this by twisting and pulling her broken arm when she refuses. He drugs and assaults her by making her drink faerie wine (which she refuses to drink as she was warned against doing so), dresses her scantily clad AGAINST HER WILL, covers her in paint so he knows where people all touch her AGAINST HER WILL, and makes her perform lap dances until she gets sick and then makes her all do it again AGAINST HER WILL. After catching her and Tamlin stealing a moment, he pushes her against a wall and kisses her WITH TONGUE to make it seem like he was the one that muddied the paint on her body rather than Tamlin. All of this he’s done AGAINST HER WILL.

- Have I mentioned how he does this against her will yet??? Did I emphasize enough that Rhysand does all this to Feyre without her consent???

- Rhysand is an evil creep that I refuse to redeem. What he did for Feyre Under the Mountain is awful and not at all deserving of redemption. And I don’t care if he says ‘I did this to help defeat Amarantha and save my court’ or ‘I did it to make Tamlin more mad and to kill Amrantha instantly’ or ‘I did it for your own good.’ I don’t fucking care, those are the excuses of an abuser. He didn’t need to literally torture and assault her.

- Also, on that note: why does he do this for the sake of making Tamlin more mad? Like??? Tamlin saw his court be cursed, he was sexually harassed by Amarantha ever since he was a child, and he witnessed Amarantha torture a woman he loves. Why would he need anything more to make him kill Amarantha faster? This argument fails to work for me. Fuck you, Rhysand, I hate you.

6. *Calanmai - This gets its own section because it’s just… so messy, and I wish to blame SJM for it’s messiness because the characters are all victims to her insensitive, careless writing.

- This is a very weird scenario??? Because, let's be frank, Tamlin assaulted Feyre and Feyre is a victim... HOWEVER. on multiple occasions she is told by FAERIES THAT HAVE EONS OF KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THIS WORLD, THEIR CULTURES, CUSTOMS, AND ACCOMPONYING DANGERS to stay in her room and that this is not safe for humans, especially her once the Great Rite occurs because Tamlin will be drawn to her. But she goes against these warnings, going to the festival and leaving her room before dawn.

- HOW DUMB ARE YOU FEYRE??!?!?!?!?! WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID???!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!??!?! JUST UUGGHHH!!!!!!!!

- And then there's Tamlin. With how the Great Rite is explained, it's like he is possessed by some springtime magic so that he is a vehicle for said magic? So the scene where he pins Feyre and bites her is almost set up like he both is and isn't possessed? It's more like he's drunk off of love pollen?? I don't know, but to me I think that both are and are not at fault - they are because Feyre didn't listen to SEVERAL warnings in a situation that is obviously unsafe for her and Tamlin could've prepared better by explaining things to her and setting up safeguards, and they aren't because Feyre is a victim and Tamlin is being possessed by a power that's greater him (which is kind of implied to be something he really doesn't want to do). Again, this is a very weird and highly uncomfortable situation - both are victims to SJM’s writing.

- Ultimately, the situation of Calanmai is poorly written and handled on SJM's behalf. It feels like her trying to eroticize a moment of assault, which in of itself is gross (bear in mind that this was initially published as a YA novel - and I initially read it as a YA novel in middle school), and to introduce Rhysand, the second half of this love triangle, which there are so many other ways this could've been done. And the fact that the assault is brushed off and treated like a friendly joke without having actual discussion about it makes it worse. - This is arguably the most 'fae' thing in this book so far? Like it feels so fae because of connections to celebrating springtime and fertility, and drinking and festivals, but at the same time this just feels like an oversexualization of traditional pagan beliefs by being a massive orgy?

- Just. Ew. Sarah J Mass, you’re gross for writing a moment like this and not being responsible enough to execute this concept with more nuance.

7. The Ending - This is really brief, but boooooo to Feyre being resurrected with all the powers of all the High Lords. :(

- (Also I know that Rhysand hints at him and Feyre being mates and uugghhh kill me now)

So these are my main thoughts regarding ACOTAR… It’s a fantasy romance that should be advertised more for it’s romance than fantasy elements as the fantasy-action takes a major backseat and acts more as a subplot to the main romance. It’s a fantasy world that is underdeveloped and is full to the brim of underutilized lore. It butchers existing faerie lore, and leaves much to be desired. Characters are unlikeable and stupid, and the only thing that got me through this book was Lucien.

SJM I do not like you, and I cannot wait to return to write about my hate for ACOMAF.

#jojo reads #anti acotar #anti sjm #anti sarah j maas #anti rhysand #anti feysand #rant review #book review #rant book review #acotar #anti a court of thorns and roses #readers of tumblr

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azriona · 1 month

Text

No brain fog on this covid run (at least, no substantial brain fog), so I' editing, and have made the following conclusions:

I overuse ellipses to the point where it's abusive. Like, in the middle of perfectly... reasonable... sentences. I am basically writing the perfect William Shatner monologue here.

I start way too many sentences with But & And.

My MC is "pretty sure" of so... many... things. Argh.

My characters CAN do so many things. I have deleted so many cans that I really ought to donate them to a food pantry.

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harlequinoccult · 9 months

Note

what kind of texters are the ro's?

(i bet overdose goes ham on the emojis when texting, has shit grammar, sends multiple quickfire short messages, replies instantly, capitalises words for emphasis and uses !!!!!!!!! a lot. cold on the other hand is a lot more composed and impersonal and they end all their messages with a fullstop. black dahlia is curt and to the point. and i'm guessing sweetheart uses the heart emoji a lot.)

Very accurate~

Elysium LOVES being overly verbose as a bit. on some "Shall we have a luncheon at two or three in the afternoon my dearest?" type shit. Likes sending audio of his voice in a message and will often send pics through their day. sends those cheesy ass Thinking about you! gifs that moms send ironically. frequently used emojis -> 😘✨💋💪🏾

Overdose never capitalizes anything unless its For A Bit, they typo a lot and its 50/50 if they bother to fix it, no emoji spam unless its funny, but does use emojis as contact names (surprisingly smart, just in case someone goes through their busted ass phone). will constantly send memes. frequently used emojis -> 😈🥴🤘🤪

For Cold, it does depend on how much they like you, they are very formal when they don't know you, basically like they wrote a letter, otherwise if they're friendly/romanced they're more casual. Never makes typos. Saves contacts by their initials. frequently used emojis -> 🙂😑🤐🐈(sends you pics of cats they see)

Dahlia is a...very efficient texter, yes. very particular about using punctuation, LOVES using ominous ellipses.....she wants more plant emojis. apple are you listening. give her more. saves people with different emoji plants. frequently used emojis -> 🥀🙄😡🖕🏿

Sweetheart is a double triple quadruple texter. Does not know texting etiquette. sends those cheesy ass Thinking about you! gifs that moms send completely unironically. saves people by nicknames. frequently used emojis -> 💖🥰😝🫰🏽

The Host has their phone all suped up and untraceable so they use and abuse text styling often, for emphasis. Auto correct is the bane of their existence however, and they can't turn it off. very proper texter otherwise. doesn't save people by name, they memorize numbers. frequently used emojis -> 🤩😫🥺📸

#SLSQ:Sweetheart #SLSQ:Elysium #SLSQ:Black Dahlia #SLSQ:Cold #SLSQ:Overdose #SLSQ:The Host

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norellenilia · 1 year

Text

Eldarya, A New Era - Episode 20

Originellement publié ici le 16 octobre 2023.

Et bien nous y voilà, l’épisode final d’Eldarya est là, c’est la fin des aventures d’Erika !

Je suis sincèrement désolée d’avance pour la longueur gargantuesque de cet avis 😆

Je vais le dire d’emblée, comme ça c’est fait, cet épisode n’est pas digne d’une fin de saison, encore moins d’une fin d’histoire. On croirait un peu revoir la malédiction de la dernière saison de Game of Thrones. Il y a eu beaucoup de raccourcis et de facilités, et la scène finale tombe terriblement à plat.

Après, ce serait malhonnête de notre part de prétendre qu’il ne s’agit que d’un problème de scénario et de rédaction. Les circonstances ont fait qu’il n’était pas possible de produire un épisode à la hauteur de ce qu’on aurait pu en attendre.

Bon après c’est loin de tout excuser et y’a aussi des décisions complètement lunaires, hein, faut pas abuser non plus 😆

J’ai dépensé 2474 maanas, je suis assez surprise, je pensais que ça ferait plus.

Allez, pour la dernière fois : c’est parti mon kiki !

CDC TO : Valkyky de Mémoria-peut-être-on-sait-pas CDC ANE : Personne, route de Mathieu

L’épisode s’ouvre sur Terre, juste après que 10 000 faëries ont traversé la faille d’Eel. Tout le monde ne peut rien faire d’autre que de regarder ladite faille se refermer, puis disparaître, emportant avec elle tout ce qui pouvait rester de leur monde d’origine (et d’adoption, pour Mathieu et Erika lol).

Après, c’est là que ça se gâte, parce qu’on rentre dans les considérations techniques que plusieurs autres personnes ont déjà évoquées de façon claire et développée : comment gérer 10 000 faëries paniqué-e-s qui viennent d’être définitivement séparé-e-s de tout ce qu’iels connaissaient ?

Bien sûr, je peux comprendre que, pour les besoins du scénario et à cause du fait qu’il fallait tout boucler en un épisode, on ne pouvait pas perdre trois heures sur un mouvement de panique et/ou sur l’impossibilité matérielle de gérer 10 000 pégus à 15, de les diriger comme il faut et de les installer vaguement confortablement en attendant de trouver mieux, ou sur le fait qu’il est tout bonnement impossible que cet attroupement n’ait pas été repéré par quelqu’un habitant la ville qui est littéralement à quelques minutes de marche de la forêt. Impossible. Mais malheureusement, les faits sont là : c’est complètement irréaliste. J’y reviendrai plus tard en détails mais je pense qu’une majorité du contenu de cet épisode aurait dû être une ellipse. Ne pas s’attarder sur cette scène dans le présent aurait permis d’éviter qu’elle ne fasse aucun sens puisque c’était impossible de la décrire de façon réaliste si notre perso la vit en direct.

Après c’est un choix de le faire quand même dans le but de, j’imagine, montrer la panique et la désorganisation après l’arrivée sur Terre, mais quitte à faire ça, je pense qu’il y aurait eu des moyens plus pertinents de les montrer que de se farcir Jamon qui pleure pour Hua pour le drama, Adalric qui s’égare pour le lol, les deux Purrekos les plus insupportables de la Création qui se découvrent soudainement de l’empathie alors qu’on leur a jamais demandé l’heure, et Orgelz et Maora qui jouent les têtes-à-claques de privilégié-e-s énervé-e-s de pas être au centre de l’attention pour… Pour on ne sait quelle raison ??

Même pas 10 minutes après le début de l’épisode c’est mesquin

Il y a un tas de scènes qui ne méritaient pas d’être dans cet épisode ou bien qui n’auraient pas dû s’étirer autant, mais celle-là elle est au moins dans le top 3 : on vous l’a déjà DIT, on sait TRÈS BIEN qu’Orgelz est un abruti hors-sol qui ne comprend rien à la réalité qui existe en dehors de sa bulle de privilège, POURQUOI on perd deux minutes et 45 secondes à lire Orgelz et Maora chialer qu’on prend pas soin d’eux et Karenn et Chrome se foutre ouvertement de leur gueule ??? On en a RIEN à cirer, ça n’apporte RIEN à qui que ce soit, on a déjà eu la même scène 36 fois depuis l’épisode 15, les inquiétudes sur l’existence de la Garde d’Eel sont déjà évoquées plus tard et le déni sur la disparition d’Eldarya aurait pu se faire à travers au bas mot au moins 250 autres personnages, plutôt qu’à travers celui dont le seul vrai rôle est l’idiot du village que personne peut encadrer.

On peut au moins reconnaître à Huang Chù qu’elle tente de prendre les choses en mains en faisant collaborer le BOAE avec des membres de la Garde pour gérer la foule. Par contre le passage où Mathieu suggère qu’ils se fassent passer pour des cosplayers, bon déjà perso moi j’aurais dit que GNiste ça aurait eu plus de sens mais je suppose que cosplayer c’est plus connu, ensuite de ça si un flic passe et voit un môme avec une épée plus large que lui je suis presque sûre que ça va mal se passer, cosplay/GN ou pas 😆

Le coup de Cobra qui dit que s’il avait voulu s’opposer à ce que les 4 gus passent avec nous, il n’était pas en mesure de le faire, je sais pas ce que ça signifie, mais moi j’y vois juste une confiance aveugle alors que la go elle pourrait juste faire sortir ses meilleurs assassins pour buter toute la ville et il y aurait vu que du feu…

Il est temps de prendre d’assaut la commanderie de Papounet.

La scène commence sur la tristesse d’Erika en remarquant à quel point l’ambiance est différente de la dernière fois qu’elle a marché dans ces rues. Pour le coup ça passe bien, ça retranscrit la douleur et le choc, et c’est quand même bien dommage qu’on n’ait pas eu ça plus souvent. C’est un peu le problème qu’on a retrouvé tout au long de la saison : on trouve çà et là de bonnes scènes qui arrivent à faire passer les bonnes émotions, mais ce sont les exceptions et non la règle.

Après malgré tout j’suis pas sûre que certains passages dans la route de Mathieu soient nécessaires quand on répond qu’on aurait fait le même rêve machin. Le ton clash un peu.

Alors qu’on aurait pu se demander pourquoi une commanderie d’une organisation top secrète se trouve en plein centre-ville ou pourquoi y’a zéro personnel à l’accueil d’une organisation top secrète, on finit par se demander pourquoi nos seuls choix pour s’annoncer c’est de beugler un truc, dire à Mathieu de beugler un truc, ou cogner une poubelle… Même l’Elfe qui toque à la porte des ennemis pour qu’on vienne leur ouvrir dans le Donjon de Naheulbeuk ça avait plus de sens.

MAIS BON. On n’en a pas fini avec le non-sens dans cette scène. Elle commence de façon logique, avec les soldats armés qui débarquent, suivis de près par le méchant cro méchant qui mise tout sur le charisme et son petit pistolet inutile. Après Erika tente son super plan de la mort-qui-tue, à savoir tout jouer au bluff pour prendre le contrôle de la commanderie et espérer que les soldats sont aussi stupides qu’elle l’imagine. Je m’attends alors à quelque chose d’impressionnant, quelque chose qui justifierait un retournement soudain des soldats, parce qu’à ce stade c’est pas des jolis mots qui vont changer la do–

« HERIBRAND GROMEYCHAN MOI JONTILLE FAËRIE OBÉISSEZ-MOA ET VOUS VERREZ DES ELFES ET DES SIRÈNES ET VOUS POURREZ DEVENIR JONTIS A VOTRE TOUR APRÈS QUE VOUS NOUS AVEZ TORTURÉS ET COMME JE ÊTRE JONTILLE JE VOUS PRÉVENIR QUE SI VOUS COOPÉREZ PAS C’EST PANPAN-CUCUL »

…

Le seul truc qui m’a pas fait rage-quit c’est l’espoir que le chemin daemon lui fasse dire des trucs plus menaçants qui ont quand même plus de chance de leur faire retourner leur veste >_> Parce que là tout ce qu’on a c’est « arrêtez d’être méchants et suivez-moi svp » couplé à « ouais en fait il est nul notre chef j’préfère en changer » et c’est d’une paresse incroyable.

Alors que pourtant on avait le début d’une bonne idée avec Erika qui fait joujou avec sa lumière magique et ses ailes, imaginez qu’elle ait fait ça x1000 en se transformant en ange de lumière/démon de ténèbres, c’est réussite critique au jet de présence, c’est rapide et c’est beaucoup plus crédible que ce qu’on se tape dans cette scène ??

Imaginez une apparition quasi-divine sur des soldats impressionnables

Perso ça m’aurait bien plus convaincue qu’elle joue à fond la carte de l’aengel/daemon, parce qu’entre nous à part quelques coups pour impressionner les gens elle s’en sert jamais et ça n’a aucun impact dans l’histoire qu’elle en soit une. On laisse quand même un petit discours, mais même son discours pourri il aurait eu plus d’impact avec un visuel pareil. Ça aurait potentiellement toujours eu l’air expédié et un peu facile mais ça aurait eu le mérite d’avoir de la classe et d’être plus crédible. C’est possible de faire une scène du genre qui tienne la route mais au bout d’un moment faut le vouloir aussi.

Mais non, Héribrand cro nul et soldats cro marre de lui du coup ils préfèrent suivre une meuf qui sort de nulle part mais elle fait de la lumière avec ses mains et c’est joli.

Erika s’en va dans les geôles pour vérifier que tout va bien, et on retrouve notre bon vieux Guerric, qu’on avait laissé à l’abandon la dernière fois. Lui aussi il devient jonti parce que c’est pas sympa de la part des Templiers de l’avoir oublié, et puis t’façon il a jamais aimé Héribrand. Puis Erika s’en va dans la salle de stockage (et je sais pas pourquoi on me dit que j’y suis jamais allée parce que c’est faux j’ai vérifié j’y suis allée dans l’épisode 12 j’ai juste pas eu de dialogues lol) et libère le maana en se faisant chier à ouvrir les bocaux un par un au lieu de genre faire tomber toutes les étagères ou j’en sais rien, puis le maana, je cite, « disparaît. ».

Et du coup ça corrobore d’autres répliques qu’on a pu avoir, à savoir qu’une fois le maana échappé d’Eldarya, c’est fini y’en a plus, mais ça pose plusieurs questions :

- Il est rappelé rien que dans cet épisode que le maana est l’énergie vitale des faëries… S’il disparaît, comment les faëries survivent ? A moins qu’il ne disparaisse que quand il est extrait d’un être vivant ? Pourquoi c’est pas précisé ? Que se passera-t-il pour les faëries « pur sang » qui naîtront sur Terre ? - Du coup pareil pour la magie, est-elle liée au maana ? Comment peut-elle fonctionner sur Terre si le maana disparaît ? Peut-être qu’il y a des infos que j’ai juste pas comprises mais je trouve que le système de magie est très mal expliqué. - Et pour le coup ça c’est sûr c’est une incohérence : qui dit plus de maana, dit, plus d’ingrédients eldaryens. Et comme ça a été souligné par d’autres personnes, comment fabriquer des potions magiques, et comment nourrir les familiers qui ne mangent pas de nourriture terrestres ? Peuvent-ils s’acclimater ou vont-ils juste dépérir faute de nourriture adaptée à leur condition d’êtres purement magiques ? Les familiers n’ont jamais été terriens, c’est pour ça qu’ils peuvent se nourrir avec les plantes et bestioles d’Eldarya, contrairement aux faëries qui ont besoin de nourriture terrienne pour survivre.

Punaise cette affaire de bouffe ça m’aura poursuivie jusqu’à la fin, hein !

C’était mignon Lance avec le téléphone. Très pratique aussi que les terrains de la commanderie soient éloignés, entourés de clôtures et apparemment assez grands pour faire tenir tranquille 10 000 personnes – je suis pas géographe mais ça fait quand même beaucoup, pour ce qu’on en sait c’est plus que les habitant-e-s de la ville juste à côté donc bon, encore une fois on est obligé-e-s de faire jouer la suspension d’incrédulité parce qu’on a pas l’temps de détailler mais y’a des gros airs de forêt des coïncidences dans Galavant où oh là là ça alors ça tombe bien dis donc, les terrains sont super bien placés et assez grands pour y construire un village, c’est fou !!!

C’est surtout vachement gros, oui 🙄

On va passer sur le mot de passe de Papounet, même Erika est dépitée, c’est pour dire. Même une scène avec un soldat random hackeur qui tape très vite sur le clavier ça aurait été plus rigolo.

J’ai pas trop compris ce qu’elle passe la nuit à chercher, si c’est du matos de construction chez Castorama ou les comptes bancaires de Papounet, mais pas le temps de s’en occuper, Nevra nous exhorte à le suivre, c’est très urgent !!!

Le vampire nous traîne jusqu’au manoir familial d’Erika, qui se dit « oui bon t’as voulu y installer tes potes je comprends c’est pas grave on va pas en faire un fromage ! » Mais non, c’est pas ça, il a voulu mettre quelqu’un à l’abri… « Oui bon bah la première personne qui me vient en tête parmi la myriade de possibilités c’est Eweleïn car pourquoi pas, mais je comprends, Nevra, elle est choquée elle a besoin de repos etc » Mais non Erika c’est toujours pas ça, va voir tu vas comprendre !!!

Bon, très hésitante, je me dis que ça doit être une grosse surprise, si ça se trouve c’est un autre perso important genre un horrible retour de Miikonne, je sais pas à quoi m’attendre, et là je me dis « hahaha imaginez c’est Hua mais ça serait franchement con ça n’aurait aucun sens lol bon alors qui... »

…

Pardon ?!

C’est une illusion de Koori hein, c’est ça ??

Comme beaucoup de mes camarades au-dessus, je suis tombée des nues en la voyant assise là tranquille. D’autant plus que cette histoire du phénix qui renaît de ses cendres, c’est beau c’est poétique, mais c’est en contradiction avec le lore donné en saison 1, ce que les persos reconnaissent, mais la deuxième théorie est tout aussi bancale ???

On en a parlé tout à l’heure mais il a été établi que le maana est l’énergie vitale des faëries, comment la résurrection de Hua peut-elle être liée au fait que son énergie vitale a disparu ??? Je ne comprends pas la logique, le maana c’est tout et son contraire, il y a rien d’expliqué c’est un foutoir sans nom et c’est incroyablement frustrant. Vous allez me dire, « mais Nore t’es débile le maana était perturbé donc maintenant qu’elle a plus de maana ‘corrompu’ en elle bah ça va mieux >_> » Bah oui mais ça change rien au fait qu’elle a plus l’énergie vitale qui faisait d’elle une faërie ?? Du coup quoi elle devient une terrienne comme les autres ? Ça colle pas avec le fait que tous les prisonniers de la commanderie sont morts quand on leur a aspiré trop de maana… Les calculs sont pas bons, Kévin.

Et je vous parle même pas de l’intérêt scénaristique de ce retour à la vie parce qu’en fait… Y’en a pas. Les résurrections j’suis pas contre mais y’a intérêt à y avoir une justification en béton parce que sinon c’est soit du osef total, soit du fanservice inutile, soit un deus ex machina fainéant. Ici je penche pour un mix entre le osef et le fanservice parce que vraiment qu’est-ce que ça apporte, sa résurrection ?? A part que vous aimez bien trop ce perso par rapport à ce qu’elle mérite et pour faire genre « HAHA en fait y’aura un couple homo qui aura bien une fin heureuse nik votre diffamation » ?? Parce que même pour ce dernier point c’est tout juste effleuré, et Hua n’a AUCUN rôle significatif qui aurait pu justifier sa présence dans cet épisode…

« Nore stop je te sens venir gros comme une maison tu vas encore parler de ton perso chouchou parce qu’il a été ressuscité lui aussi >_> » Alors oui exactement parlons de Gaara dans Naruto et de pourquoi je suis pas fâchée qu’il ait été résurrectionné !!!

Résumé : Gaara c’est un chef de village avec un démon scellé en lui, et un jour son village est attaqué par un méchant, et en protégeant son village il est kidnappé, les méchants extraient le démon qui est en lui mais lui non plus il a plus d’énergie vitale après donc il meurt. Sauf que son super pote est pas d’accord, tape les méchants, une vieille utilise une technique interdite pour transférer son énergie vitale et une partie de celle du pote à Gaara, du coup elle meurt et il revit après.

Pourquoi selon moi ça marche mieux ? Premièrement, ça a du sens pour le background du personnage : Gaara son histoire elle est basée sur le fait qu’il a été rejeté par tout le monde et maintenant il essaie de se racheter et de se faire accepter, et à son réveil il découvre que tout son village était venu pour le sauver, y’a la comparaison avec Naruto et le développement de leur amitié, bref émotionnellement ça fait du sens pour développer le caractère du personnage et sa relation avec les autres. Ici on a vaguement la notion au moins que Hua retrouve sa meuf, et encore, et Erika est contente de retrouver sa pote mais ça a zéro impact sur leur développement en tant que persos.

Deuxièmement, ça a du sens dans l’histoire : ses expériences et ses discours vont avoir un impact dans les derniers arcs du manga (le discours en tant que chef des armées, par exemple), son statut en tant qu’ancien porteur de démon, et aussi il lui restait des trucs à régler, genre apprendre la vérité sur sa mère et avoir une explication avec son père. On peut rétorquer qu’on aurait pu se passer de ces derniers points mais ça a le mérite d’avoir étoffé un personnage populaire. Ici, Hua, n’a absolument aucune influence sur le reste de l’épisode, elle est là elle fait sa vie mais ça sert à rien. Et je dis pas qu’il aurait fallu qu’elle ait un rôle décisif mais c’est à peine si elle a un rôle de soutien, Koori le fait très bien toute seule, alors c’est quoi l’intérêt ?

Troisièmement, c’est pas gratuit : j’entends par là qu’il est pas revenu à la vie comme ça, pouf, y’a quelque chose qui a été donné en échange, la vie de la vieille. Et ça aura pas été une vieille random, c’était une vieille qu’on avait appris à connaître depuis le début de l’arc, on s’y était attaché-e-s (ou en tout cas c’était le but), et du fait de son lien avec Gaara dans l’histoire, son sacrifice pour le ramener à la vie et faire en sorte qu’il répare les erreurs qu’elle a pu commettre etc ça a du sens. Ici, bah y’a plus d’maana déréglé du coup plus besoin d’être morte ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Quatrièmement, de toute façon il est bien plus stylé.

A titre de comparaison j’ai jamais digéré la résurrection de Kakashi dans ce même manga lol, même s’il a un rôle après désolée c’était du pur fanservice et ça n’avait aucune justification.

Et sans transition nous avons une première ellipse durant laquelle le chantier de construction du village de fortune commence, avec Jamon et les Templiers qui construisent des préfabriqués qui ressemblent vachement à des maisons, et Erika qui fouille les affaires de son père pour trouver des sous et on ne sait quelles infos. J’aimerais juste savoir comme ils ont fait pour « acheminer DISCRÈTEMENT » les faëries au village « par PETITS groupes de PLUSIEURS CENTAINES » parce que j’avoue que chez moi ces notions vont pas très bien ensemble et j’ai du mal à visualiser la chose.

L’on apprend ensuite que le Conseil ainsi que quelques gardien-ne-s, AKA les persos principaux qui ont vraiment de l’intérêt en gros, se sont octroyé le luxe de loger dans un manoir géant et profitent des services d’un cuisinier et d’un majordome personnel pour se nourrir… Y’aurait beaucoup de choses à dire sur le fait d’avoir choisi de donner une vie de palace aux chefs pendant que les gueux traînent dans un village a priori sans eau courante, électricité ou évacuation des eaux usées, mais bon.

Et pour toutes les utilisations utiles qu’auraient pu avoir les quelques potions de camouflage qu’on a sauvées, Erika choisit de s’en servir pour aller au ciné et en profiter pour galocher son mec, puisqu’apparemment c’est ce que font « la plupart des couples » qui vont au cinéma. Mince alors, ma meuf et moi on a pas eu le mémo, faudra que je lui en parle.

Vient ensuite la conversation avec Mathieu (pour ma part), et ça vient soulever des points importants. Déjà, je note qu’il a l’air plus en phase avec les faëries exilé-e-s que ne peut l’être Erika, puisqu’il passe ses journées avec eux sur le chantier. On nous dit qu’elle passe tous les jours au village pour voir si ça se passe bien, mais pas beaucoup plus. J’ai le sentiment qu’il sait mieux ce que vivent les faëries que notre héroïne. Et ensuite, Mathieu nous parle un peu de lui, et on arrive à un détail que je trouve invraisemblable.

Je suis sa route depuis le début, et je ne sais toujours pas pourquoi il lui manque une jambe.

Tout ce qu’il nous dira, c’est que ses parents « auraient préféré avoir un fils entier. » Mais ça ne nous éclaire pas sur ce qu’il lui est arrivé, on sait juste que c’est pré-Eldarya et probablement pré-armée, puisqu’il s’est émancipé à 16 ans (ok vu Castiel). Ça ne nous dit toujours pas comment il s’est retrouvé dans cet état. Est-ce que c’est de naissance ? Si oui, comment ? Sinon, est-ce une maladie ? Laquelle ? Est-ce un accident de la route ? De moissonneuse-batteuse ? D’écureuil enragé ? De transmutation humaine ratée ?

On me répondra peut-être qu’au final, est-ce vraiment important de savoir d’où vient l’infirmité d’un personnage ? « Après tout Nore ça n’apporte aucune info essentielle à l’histoire, toi qui nous casses les pieds avec ça à chaque occasion qui se présente è_é »

Bah ça apporte des infos sur le personnage et son histoire déjà ptdr puis d’autant plus quand c’est notre CDC ??? Moi je retourne la question, c’est quoi l’intérêt de lui donner une particularité si c’est pour jamais en donner l’origine, même au détour d’une conversation de routine ? On a bien eu l’explication pour l’œil de Nevra (et tant mieux), pourquoi on l’a pas eue pour la jambe de Mathieu ???

(J’aurais aussi des questions sur comment il est entré dans l’armée en tant que soldat avec une jambe en moins mais je sais pas comment ça se passe lol)

Erika fait une crise existentielle parce qu’elle a pas assez regardé C’est Pas Sorcier et Le Bus Magique quand elle était môme et maintenant elle sait rien expliquer de son monde. Bon, pourquoi pas, puis tout le monde sait qu’elle a pas la lumière à tous les étages, mais bon la fontaine et le conseil municipal c’est quand même une question de logique… Oui, je sais, elle en a pas beaucoup non plus, mais c’est quand même frustrant de la voir dire qu’elle sait pas qui décide de la présence de trucs dans la commune, de la savoir incapable de dire que c’est une obligation légale pour les restos et les bars de te donner de la flotte gratos si t’en demandes pour nous caser ensuite un laïus moralisateur sur « oh là là sur Terre on donne pas à boire aux gens qui ont soif » ça m’énerve.

Retour dans la forêt des coïncidences lorsqu’on apprend que d’autres failles se sont ouvertes et que les campagnes de désinformation suffisent à éloigner les curieux et les médias… Encore une fois c’est complètement surréaliste mais je sais même pas comment ça se passe : c’est d’autres branches du BOAE ? Je suis pas sûre de me souvenir si on nous a dit qu’ils avaient des antennes ailleurs, on sait juste que l’organisation est très jeune (par rapport à l’Ordre qui a quelques siècles) et que Cobra communique avec des gens qui lui disent que y’a eu des failles et des faëries qui en sont sorti-e-s, sans plus.

La scène du dîner est inutilement longue, on s’en fout un peu de la comparaison nutritionnelle entre la ratatouille et un cheeseburger, surtout quand on nous a déjà saoulé-e-s avec la scène du fast-food à l’épisode 11.

Vraiment je déclare la nourriture taboue dans Eldarya.

Arrive enfin la fameuse scène où, ah oui, on se souvient qu’Erika est censée être une humaine avec des émotions, une histoire, des traumas, et que tout ça peut avoir des conséquences sur sa psyché.

Attention : qu’elle ait un moment de faiblesse, qu’elle craque à ce moment de l’histoire, c’est logique. Pour une fois, oui c’est vrai que ces derniers jours ne lui ont pas laissé le temps de réaliser ce qui se passait, et que globalement c’est la première fois qu’elle a le temps de comprendre qu’elle ne reverra plus Eldarya. Mon problème c’est quand vous lui faites dire que « c’est pas la pression de ces derniers jours c’est celle depuis ma sortie du Cristal parce que j’ai jamais pris le temps de faire mon deuil j’ai scellé mes sentiments du coup je ne réalise que maintenant ce que j’ai perdu » etc.

Parce que c’est tout simplement faux.

On compte plus les moments où elle est partie se promener pour prendre l’air, les épisodes à se préparer pour un bal, pour un enterrement de vie de garçon où elle a rien foutu, les nuits à la belle étoile à penser à tout sauf à ce dont elle parle dans cette scène. Le problème c’est pas qu’elle a scellé ses souvenirs pour se protéger, le problème c’est qu’elle est terriblement mal écrite.

Et ça, c’est pareil, y’avait aucun moyen de s’en sortir correctement avec ça dans cet épisode, parce qu’il aurait fallu qu’elle ait ces révélations beaucoup plus tôt. On le sait, vous le savez, mais vous avez pas agi dessus, alors vous faites comme avec Hua dans l’épisode précédent et vous casez tout maintenant dans une scène émotionnelle qui a sa place dans l’histoire à ce moment précis, mais pas avec ce contenu-là. Réaliser la perte d’Eldarya, mais aussi que sa vie sur Terre n’est plus là alors qu’elle y est revenue, oui, très bien. Mais Valkyon, c’est non.

On n’écrit pas de la même façon un personnage où vraiment la pensée de son ex mort (ou parti à l’autre bout de la map mais je sais pas comment ça a été géré avec Ezarel) ne lui traverse absolument pas le cerveau, et un personnage qui choisit d’ignorer ses pensées sur le sujet. Erika, elle a été écrite d’une telle façon qu’on peut facilement croire qu’elle ne sait même plus qui était Valkyon pour elle, elle ne réagit pas comme un personnage qui veut tout faire pour ne pas se souvenir de lui, mais comme un personnage qui ne se souvient pas de lui. Elle est là votre grosse erreur, et j’ose espérer que vous en avez conscience.

D’ailleurs lol y’a une vague évocation de Mémoria, mais pourquoi faire ? Est-ce que c’est une manière subtile d’enfin nous révéler où il était enterré ? Parce que si oui moi ça me suffit pas, je veux qu’on me dise texto « On m’a dit que Mémoria, sa dernière demeure, avait disparu, » c’est pas un truc qui se devine, nous Mémoria on sait que c’est le repos de l’âme des dragons mais personne a parlé des dépouilles, du coup même là j’aurai jamais la certitude de s’il a été enterré là ou bien si son âme est là-bas et c’est censé être l’essentiel mais on sait pas où il aura reposé sur Eldarya, et je ne comprends pas l’intérêt de ne PAS donner cette info-là non plus, encore une fois même au détour d’une conversation, pourquoi une telle rétention d’informations sur des persos que l’on a, pour certain-e-s d’entre nous, mis en CDC/ancien CDC ? Ça me dépasse…

Bien sûr, ça n’empêche pas que ces éléments puissent quand même faire partie de sa crise de larmes, au même titre que la réalisation qu’elle ne reverra jamais sa mère, c’est normal qu’elle pleure pour ça et c’est normal que se mêlent à ça tous ses autres traumas, le problème c’est que certains ont été oubliés par l’histoire alors qu’elle aurait dû en parler bien plus tôt, plutôt que de tout caser dans un épisode final qui aurait gagné à explorer d’autres choses.

Bref, que quelqu’un trouve un-e psy compétent-e à Erika.

Et un neurologue pour sa mémoire.

J’ai choisi, avec un peu d’appréhension, d’aller voir Hua et Ewe pour savoir ce qu’elles avaient à nous dire. Au final ça va, Hua dit « j’suis là pour toi » et Ewe « on aurait pas dû compter autant sur toi pour sauver le monde »… Je sais, retranscrit comme ça c’est pas positif, mais déjà c’est rigolo, et entre nous ça me fait prendre conscience qu’au final dans cette saison, Erika est loin d’avoir un rôle aussi important à jouer que dans The Origins. Elle est qualifiée d’« enfant des deux mondes » par l’Oracle à plusieurs reprises, mais ça nous apporte quoi ? Le seul intérêt de son statut de terrienne dans cette saison, c’est qu’elle était la fille d’un chef d’une commanderie de Templiers, mais en fin de compte, si on omet son temps dans le Cristal, Mathieu il a pas passé beaucoup moins de temps qu’elle sur Eldarya, on a convenu que la saison 1 dure un an si on est généreux, et Mathieu est arrivé environ un an avant le début de la saison 2… Grosse vibe de Neville qui aurait très bien pu remplir la prophétie à la place de Harry Potter mdr, la seule différence c’est qu’Erika a des pouvoirs d’aengel/daemon, et comme je l’ai dit ça n’a pas beaucoup de conséquences à part impressionner les ennemis, son statut d’aengel ne sert pas à grand-chose, comparé à The Origins où c’était la clé pour réparer le Cristal, quoi.

Chù a apparemment de grandes et importantes nouvelles à nous annoncer. Pour la première, elle commence par nous dire qu’elle ne peut plus rester cheffe de Garde, puisque la Garde n’a plus les mêmes missions. Soit, ça s’entend, je commençais à me demander s’ils allaient pas essayer de remettre Hua en place et j’ai eu peur, mais je suis pas sûre qu’on y gagne au change.

En effet, quand elle a commencé à dire qu’elle y connaissait rien aux humains, j’ai senti le coup venir, en me disant que non, c’était pas possible, ils allaient quand même pas faire ça…

Et ben si…

Erika devient co-cheffe de la Garde d’Eel ?!?!

On est dans Vidéo Gag hein, c’est ça ?

Honnêtement j’ai espéré très fort qu’on ait la possibilité de refuser plus tard dans le dialogue et ai été bien déçue que ce ne soit pas le cas, tant cette décision me paraît incongrue.

Alors oui ok dans la théorie ça fait sens parce qu’elle est terrienne et connaît un peu Eldarya, et en plus elle a du sang faélien, mais allô c’est E.R.I.K.A les enfants, elle a jamais rien dirigé, elle a jamais eu de respect pour la hiérarchie, elle sait pas comment fonctionne son monde, elle sait à peine comment fonctionne Eldarya, sa définition de la diplomatie c’est de sortir des jets de lumière en disant « suivez nos ordres sinon je vous dégomme avec ma lumière, » elle est pas fichue d’écrire un discours qui se résume à « moi aussi je suis triste mais vous verrez ça va aller les humains sont sympa et on a le Pouvoir de l’Amitié™ » en moins de six jours, je suis désolée mais même Mathieu s’en sortirait probablement mieux, ça n’a aucun sens, elle a ce rôle que parce que c’est l’héroïne, ça valait bien la peine de faire dire à Ewe qu’on avait trop fait peser sur ses épaules y’a deux minutes si c’est pour que maintenant on la colle cheffe de la Garde, même en tandem avec Chù…

C’est même pas juste une histoire de pas aimer le personnage, vraiment elle a jamais montré à aucun moment des qualités de leader, j’suis désolée…

Y’a l’histoire de l’addendum je vais pas revenir dessus, y’a la musique d’angoisse qui colle pas avec cette scène, y’a le fait que je vois pas trop l’intérêt de faire voter celleux qui font pas partie du Conseil parce que dans ce cas-là qu’est-ce qui justifie que Caméria et Adalric ont pas pu voter parce qu’iels étaient pas là, bref. Après dans l’absolu c’est pas con comme idée de mettre deux chef-fe-s à la Garde pour gérer aussi les relations avec les humains, mais vraiment Erika je hurle. Et j’ai pas spécialement de solution de remplacement à part Mathieu, c’est juste que rien depuis décembre 2014 ne nous a laissé penser qu’elle pouvait avoir une quelconque capacité à être cheffe de quoi que ce soit. C’est pourtant pas faute de pas savoir écrire des personnages de leaders, on a eu Nevra et Lance, donc bon.

Le deuxième truc que Chù voulait dire à Erika c’est qu’elle veut qu’elle prononce un discours aux faëries pour les rassurer. J’ai un peu envie de dire que ça fait au moins deux ou trois semaines qu’iels sont là et qu’il serait peut-être temps d’y songer, mais je suppose que c’est trop s’attarder sur les détails.

Perso de base j’avais pas confiance dans la capacité d’Erika à écrire un discours parce qu’on a déjà parlé de sa notion de diplomatie, mais il semblerait qu’elle n’ait pas plus confiance que moi, parce qu’au bout de trois jours à se focaliser sur ça elle a toujours rien écrit, et il faut une intervention de Koori pour la débloquer. J’ai d’ailleurs pas compris le délire dans cette scène où Koori nous dit qu’elle a écrit des trucs mais faut pas qu’on sache quoi, je sais pas si y’a une option de dialogue qui nous permet de l’apprendre, si oui je veux bien savoir de quoi elle parle, sinon encore une fois je vois pas l’intérêt d’évoquer ça si c’est pour jamais donner de réponse claire.

Il faudra encore trois jours de plus à Erika pour pondre son discours, et à lire les descriptions à nouveau elle a l’air de foutre que ça de ses journées et finalement c’est un assez bon résumé de son séjour sur Eldarya : à quelques exceptions près, elle ne fiche absolument rien de constructif pour Eldarya ou les faëries entre deux événements racontés de l’histoire. Je sais pas, juste dire « après être rentrée du village où j’avais aidé à l’installation de quelques familles encore perdues, je me remis à mon discours » ou j’en sais rien, qu’on n’ait pas l’impression qu’elle a passé littéralement 6 jours à écrire une page de texte et deux jours à juste répéter avec Mathieu, quoi.

Ah heureusement qu’elle est pas leader, hein, hahaha !

Ensuite on notera qu’elle a dépensé toute la thune dans des matériaux de construction, mais des mégaphones pour se faire entendre dans une foule pendant qu’il faut les installer, bon, whatever. Le discours en lui-même n’est pas mauvais, un peu gnan-gnan mais je n’ai vu que la version aengel, à lire les autres avis la version daemon est un peu plus agressive et je serais curieuse de savoir ce qu’elle donne. Ici son discours est assez bateau et générique mais ça positive et encourage à garder espoir, c’est dans la lignée de ce qu’on a pu voir dans l’histoire donc bon y’a pas grand-chose à dire de plus.

Commence alors la phase « que sont-iels devenu-e-s » après quelques mois passés sur Terre. Parmi les différents postes occupés, je suis très déçue que Lance ne soit pas devenu électricien mdr. Le rôle de Mathieu de dissuader les humains d’ébruiter le fait qu’ils avaient vu des faëries me fait doucement rigoler, je pense que tout le monde a conscience ici que statistiquement c’est mission impossible. Nevra et son service de renseignement oui ça tient la route, les remarques sur Orgelz mais qu’est-ce qu’on s’en serait bien passé vous avez pas idée, suffisait de nous dire qu’il avait son clan avec quelques fidèles de son côté et c’est marre. L’idée d’avoir les Purrekos en train d’essayer d’arnaquer les gens j’avoue ça me fait marrer, y’a pas de petit profit comme on dit.

Karuto et son resto ça rentre dans la problématique globale du camouflage parce que bon Monsieur a des jambes de chèvre ?? C’est bien beau de nous parler sans relâche des potions de camouflage où va bien falloir nous expliquer d’où elles sortent vu qu’il y a plus les ingrédients, mais le bougre il va pas en avaler 6 par semaine pour tenir son resto ?? De même pour les faëries qui, on nous l’indique après, finissent par trouver un travail (avec quoi ? Quel numéro de sécu ? Quel compte bancaire ? Quelle identité ? Est-ce le BOAE qui leur fournit ça ? Si oui, une ligne pour le préciser ça coûte quoi ?), pour celleux comme Leiftan, Chù, Lance ou Hua, qui ont une apparence relativement humaine, ça va, mais si demain Jamon il veut devenir bénévole à la SPA il va faire quoi ?

Pareil l’alchimie c’est censé donner quoi ? Sur Eldarya c’est mélanger des ingrédients eldaryens en y infusant de la magie au moyen d’incantations le plus souvent, s’il y a plus de maana, comment ça peut fonctionner ? Comment on transfère l’alchimie eldaryenne à la Terre et à ses ingrédients ? Est-ce qu’il s’agira juste de faire des mélanges incongrus de plantes et PAF ça fait un nouveau médoc ? Parce que du coup ça a plus grand-chose à voir avec l’alchimie, que ce soit celle d’Eldarya ou celle qui a pu être pseudo-pratiquée sur Terre.

C’est donc au bout de quelques mois (???) que la Garde s’installe enfin parmi les faëries au lieu de leur faire traverser la ville pour aller au manoir et parler aux seigneurs. On a quelques phrases sur la situation globale entre quelques faëries agressé-e-s et se défendant et quelques humains s’installant au village.

Arrive la scène finale. Comme beaucoup, je pensais que CDC allait demander Erika en mariage, et j’avais aussi été perturbée par le dessert qui lui filait la nausée, et finalement, le gars lui dit juste « je t’aime » pour la première fois et lui propose de s’installer ensemble, fin, adieu, finito, sayonara, adios.

C’est… Expéditif et plat.

Je dis pas que demander à vivre ensemble c’est pas une grande étape dans la vie de couple au même titre qu’un mariage, mais c’est le côté « ah on est ensemble depuis l’épisode 9 et c’est que maintenant qu’on se dit ‘je t’aime’, » déjà pourquoi ça aussi ça arrive que maintenant on est toujours censé-e-s être dans une jeu de romance, ensuite bah « eh on habite ensemble ? » ; « oué ok allons là » ; « trop bien ! » (j’ai flippé sur la réponse mdr mais j’imagine que CDC répond pareil à chaque fois) avec simplement une illustration sans fond alors qu’on aurait pu avoir la vue d’ensemble du village dont ils parlaient juste avant, ça laisse un gros goût d’inachevé dans la bouche. La scène dure littéralement 30 secondes à peine, alors qu’elle conclut la saison, l’histoire et la romance entre notre perso et son CDC, du coup je pense que même si c’était mignon, on était en droit d’en attendre un peu plus.

Et c’est la fin de l’épisode !!!

… Mais désolée, c’est pas encore la fin de cet avis :’) J’aimerais m’attarder un peu sur l’aspect fin précipitée de notre histoire en faisant une petite comparaison.

« Oh non Nore tu vas encore nous casser les bonbons avec une analyse comparative qui n’intéresse que toi ?? u_u » Parfaitement !!! Moi ça me permet de mieux poser mes idées en les appuyant sur des exemples concrets, mais je mets ça dans une partie à part comme ça vous pouvez l’ignorer si ça vous chante :’)

Pour commencer, restons un peu sur Eldarya : qu’est-ce qui fait que cet épisode ne fait pas une conclusion satisfaisante ?

- Pas assez de temps : un seul épisode pour tout conclure, c’est très peu. Ce n’est pas mission impossible, mais la question est de savoir ce qu’on fait du temps qui nous est imparti, comme dirait Gandalf. Ce qui m’amène à mon deuxième point.

- Une focalisation mal choisie : la majorité de l’épisode se concentre sur les jours qui suivent l’arrivée sur Terre, et je pense que c’était une erreur, parce qu’alors vous vous retrouvez obligé-e-s de détailler des choses que vous ne pouvez pas expliquer de façon réaliste avec les contraintes que vous avez, à savoir le temps et le monde dans lequel les personnages évoluent.

- Des bases très mal construites : c’est pas nouveau, très peu de personnages ont leur relation développée au cours de l’histoire (et malheureusement ça n’inclut pas Erika et son CDC, dont la relation est excessivement creuse), le lore est très peu fouillé, et les éléments importants comme les portails, la magie et le maana ne sont pas cohérents. Comment apporter une conclusion à des points qui ne sont pas clairs de base ?

Maintenant, ma comparaison : j’ai choisi l’anime de 2003 de FullMetal Alchemist, déjà parce que j’aime bien mdr, et ensuite on parle d’un personnage vivant dans un monde fantasy relié à la Terre, et il se retrouve coincé sur Terre en passant par un portail compliqué, je me suis dit que c’était de circonstance 😆 De plus, l’histoire devait se conclure par une mini-série, mais par manque de temps, ça s’est fini avec un film, qui lui-même a été bien raccourci. J’ai pensé que c’était pertinent.

Je pense aussi que ça a son importance de préciser que si l’intrigue dans cet anime de manière générale tient une grande place, la focalisation se fait aussi énormément sur les personnages, leur développement et leurs relations les uns aux autres. Dans Eldarya, l’histoire tient une plus grande place, et si en soi c’est pas une mauvaise chose de choisir l’histoire par rapport aux persos, je m’interroge tout de même sur la pertinence de ce choix dans un otome, dont l’aspect principal est normalement la romance, et donc les relations entre personnages. Ici, au lieu d’avoir l’histoire mise en avant en complément de la romance, elle a été mise en avant au détriment de la romance. Et encore, on le sait, ça n’a même pas été exploité comme ça aurait pu l’être.

Surtout qu’en plus, cette saison a été beaucoup plus focalisée sur le texte pour des raisons évidentes, alors on aurait pu s’attendre à un développement de l’histoire et des dialogues pertinents, mais les choix ont été douteux 🙄

J’accélère, j’accélère (enfin j’essaie)

Concernant l’anime, l’un des premiers points que je veux comparer est le contexte dans lequel les personnages se retrouvent embarqués et la façon de gérer le tout. Je reconnais d’abord que la grosse différence c’est que dans FMA, Edward, le héros, se retrouve dans l’Allemagne des années 1920, et il est le seul à se retrouver dans la situation, à part son père au début du film puis son frère à la fin, ce qui n’a pas grand-chose à voir avec des milliers de faëries qui débarquent d’un coup dans un champ de patates.

Ensuite, faire débarquer un personnage en Allemagne il y a un siècle n’aura pas les mêmes conséquences pour le lecteur qu’un groupe de personnages dans ce qui est censé représenter notre époque, et très probablement la France. Dans les deux cas, le récit est très profondément ancré dans le contexte terrien : le film FMA se situe début novembre 1923 à Munich quelques jours avant le putsch, qui sera évoqué, il y a des institutions et des personnages historiques, et le contexte du NSDAP et de la traque de personnes Roms est central à l’histoire, et dans Eldarya on a tou-te-s repéré la myriade de références à la pop culture moderne, aux technologies que vous et moi utilisons tous les jours, à la bouffe, les décors nous sont particulièrement familiers, etc.

Ce qui veut dire qu’à la différence de FMA, il sera beaucoup plus facile pour le lecteur de repérer les anomalies dans le contexte d’Eldarya, puisque c’est littéralement le lieu et l’époque où l’on vit. Ça veut pas dire qu’il aurait fallu que les faëries débarquent à Munich en 1923, mais ça veut dire que bien ancrer un récit dans un contexte ça suffit pas, il faut aussi prendre en compte le fait que plus le contexte est proche de nous dans le temps et dans la culture, plus les lecteurs seront capables de l’analyser. C’est pour ça qu’on est déjà un certain nombre à avoir souligné tout ce qui ne va pas dans la gestion de l’arrivée des faëries : on connaît ce monde, on connaît Internet, on connaît les réseaux sociaux, beaucoup d’entre nous savons aussi que gérer une foule paniquée ne se fait pas aussi facilement, on sait donc que c’est irréaliste que tout se passe aussi bien sans que jamais la rumeur ne s’ébruite à grande échelle. Et le problème c’est que vous avez placé ça dans un contexte réaliste, qui ne colle pas avec le niveau d’improbabilité auquel on a eu droit dans l’épisode.

Est-ce que j’ai une solution magique pour que tout se passe tranquillement sans perdre trois heures avec des péripéties pour calmer des foules, faire taire des rumeurs mondiales et construire un village digne de ce nom ? Non, parce que je ne vois honnêtement pas dans quelle version de la Terre où le surnaturel et le merveilleux ne sont pas connus du grand public ça pourrait passer. Mais je pense qu’il y avait un moyen de limiter les dégâts : l’ellipse.

A la toute fin de l’anime, Edward est projeté sur Terre en 1921, à Londres de mémoire. Et le film se passe donc deux ans plus tard, dans un autre pays, où on peut voir qu’il s’est assez adapté pour passer pour un mec lambda juste un peu bizarre. Avec cette ellipse, pas besoin de se poser 36 questions sur ce qu’il a fait pendant deux ans, et on peut se concentrer sur l’intrigue du film, qui vaut ce qu’elle vaut, mais qui a le mérite de continuer d’explorer les thèmes de l’anime, qui apporte une fin aux persos, qui réussit même à en intégrer des nouveaux, et qui apporte une fin à l’histoire.

Est-ce que j’aurais pas voulu savoir comment son atterrissage sur Terre s’est passé alors qu’a priori il y arrive à moitié à poil avec un bras et une jambe arrachés ? Comment il a retrouvé son père planqué on ne sait où ? Comment il a appris l’allemand ? Comment il a rencontré son coloc ? Où il a trouvé le fric pour vivre et voyager ? Si, et je suppose que la mini-série prévue de base devait en parler, mais voilà, quand on a pas l’temps, ben on a pas l’temps.

C’est triste mais heureusement, les fanfictions existent.

Et pour moi, une ellipse au début de l’épisode 20 aurait permis de s’épargner beaucoup de problèmes. C’est une opinion personnelle et tout le monde ne sera sans doute pas d’accord, mais je pense que non seulement ça aurait peut-être permis de se concentrer sur d’autres trucs, mais ça aurait permis d’éviter d’écrire autant d’incohérences. On aurait sans doute pas pu en éviter si vous tenez absolument à partir du principe que les faëries ne seront pas découverts à l’échelle mondiale, mais au moins l’attention n’aurait pas été focalisée là-dessus et sur les autres détails qui ne font pas sens, de la gestion de l’arrivée à la construction du village, en passant par la prise nanardesque de la commanderie.

J’aurais pas été contre une mini-intrigue le temps de l’épisode, il aurait pu s’ouvrir sur de la narration qui explique que l’arrivée a été chaotique, les rumeurs n’avaient que difficilement été contenues, la commanderie avait été prise d’assaut par la Garde, etc, et avoir une ultime confrontation avec un Papounet qui se sera échappé, aura été trouver des Templiers j’sais pas où, baston et discours larmoyant sur la nécessité de cohabiter avec des gens qui n’ont rien demandé à personne, genre jsp ça se passe en ville et des humains en sont témoins, et c’est le début de la révélation des faëries au monde où malgré parfois des tensions les humains sont ok parce que y’a rien de mal non plus à une histoire qui finit bien, j’en sais rien j’invente n’importe quoi mais c’est pour dire qu’il y aurait eu plein de solutions possibles pour en faire un épisode intéressant, qui couvre le fait qu’Eldarya n’existe plus mais les faëries finissent par vivre en paix sur Terre (après partir sur une mauvaise fin moi j’m’en fiche ça me gêne pas ce qu’il faut c’est que ça tienne la route lol). Avec, on aurait bien aimé, une scène de fin entre Erika et CDC un peu plus fournie en émotions.

(D’ailleurs j’y pense mais la fin du film FMA c’est juste le héros qui part sur les routes avec son frère, mais y’a eu aussi deux ou trois OAV (mini-épisodes de quelques minutes à peine pour un anime) dont un où à la fin on voit Edward en 2005, et on a des plan sur des photos de son temps sur Terre, des souvenirs etc, et je me disais ça aurait été joli pour une illu de fin pour notre couple ? Bon pas forcément alors qu’ils ont 100 ans hein mais genre quelques années après entouré-e-s de souvenirs et de photos d’eux et/ou des copains ? Moi c’est mon kif ce genre de trucs mdr après voilà mais vraiment pour une illu de fin elle était quand même décevante. Très jolie, mais pas différente de toutes celles d’avant. J’ai l’impression qu’en plus cette saison il n’y a eu que très rarement des fonds originaux, le plus souvent c’est les persos collés sur une version flou d’un fond qu’on trouve en jeu.)

Oui y’a ce style aussi mais c’est pas les mêmes implications lol

Oui ça aurait été dommage de pas en savoir plus sur l’acclimatation des faëries, de comment on s’est organisé, de pas voir de baston pour la commanderie, ce qu’on veut, mais j’aurais préféré ça à essayer de se dépatouiller dans des choix qui, de toute façon, ne pouvaient pas fonctionner. Et bon, tout ça c’est sans compter sur les trucs qui auraient dû être réglés plus tôt, comme le fonctionnement du maana en général et sur Terre en particulier, ou développer le BOAE pour qu’on ait un minimum l’impression qu’ils peuvent s’organiser à l’internationale et fournir par exemple des papiers aux faëries, parce que là on dirait juste que les mecs ils viennent de débarquer et ils savent pas trop quoi faire de leur vie, quoi. Et ça, même dans notre épisode ça aurait pu être dit.

BREF, tout ça pour conclure que : écrire un épisode de fin quand on a pas le temps, non c’est pas facile, oui va falloir faire des choix, oui y’aura des frustrations, mais c’est pas mission impossible si on y met un peu de logique.

Ça y est, c’est la fin de notre aventure avec Erika, après quasiment neuf ans de bons et loyaux services. A priori c’est la fin de notre aventure à Eldarya tout court mais bon ça faudrait encore que ce soit confirmé officiellement ahem.

Qu’est-ce qu’on peut en conclure pour cette saison ?

1) L’écriture Je l’aurai évoqué plusieurs fois au cours de mes avis de A New Era, mais il est clair qu’un gros effort a été fait. En saison 1, on avait fini par nous parler de bêta-readers et de relecteurs, mais honnêtement je n’en avais jamais vu la couleur, car tout du long la rédaction était parsemée d’erreurs de grammaire et d’orthographe à un niveau qui frôlait la faute professionnelle, si vous voulez mon avis. Le contraste saisissant qu’on a pu voir à partir de l’épisode 30 (sur lequel est arrivé le nouveau scénariste, si j’ai bien compris) était plus que bienvenu de ce point de vue-là. C’était également beaucoup plus fluide à lire, même si sa manie de caser des mots obsolètes ou très peu usités n’était pas nécessaire (et pas toujours bien employée, n’en déplaise au scénariste).

Je dirai quand même un mot sur la gestion du ton. La saison 1 a commencé sur une ambiance très guillerette, un peu je-m’en-foutiste de la fin du monde imminente, pour plonger petit à petit dans une direction que l’on voulait qualifier de « mature » (mais on a déjà vu que ça avait été compliqué lol car je pense que les scénaristes de l’époque n’avaient pas forcément intégré qu’on ne rend pas une histoire « mature » simplement en y ajoutant des thèmes adultes et en tuant des enfants), et si en saison 2 on a pas eu vraiment de problèmes de pseudo-maturité en lâchant du pathos à tire-larigot, on a quand même souvent eu des soucis avec les scènes dramatiques qui sortaient de nulle part ou qui ne sont pas apparues quand il le fallait, une très mauvaise gestion des sentiments des personnages, ce qui nous donne une Erika qui n’évoque jamais Valkyon/Ezarel (j’imagine) en se cachant derrière une indisponibilité physique et émotionnelle (inventée de surcroît parce qu’elle aurait eu mille occasions d’y penser), ainsi que des persos qui la démontent parce qu’elle est en colère et qui ne sont JAMAIS contredits par l’histoire, à part un mot d’excuse à la toute fin parce qu’on gueule là-dessus depuis deux ans et demi.

2) Le scénario Très frustrant. Vraiment frustrant. Parce que y’avait de l’idée, à tous les stades de la saison. L’immeuble à Genkaku avec des humains coincés dedans et le background de Koori ? Incroyable. L’idée de failles entre les mondes avec le maana qui s’échappe et des trucs eldaryens qui disparaissent vers la Terre ? 10/10. Le retour sur Terre avec Papounet dans une organisation de Templiers avec des infos qui coïncident pas avec ce qu’on nous a dit sur Eldarya ? J’achète sans réfléchir. Mais à chaque fois, ça s’est éclaté par terre de façon hyper pathétique, parce que y’avait un méchant qui ressemble à rien, parce que l’arc se clôt aussi vite qu’il commence, parce que finalement c’est manichéen au possible alors que ça se donne toutes les peines du monde pour se faire passer pour nuancé, parce qu’on se retrouve bloqué par des incohérences liées à la saison 1 et/ou à l’absence totale de tentative de les redresser en saison 2. Du coup on se retrouve avec des ascenseurs émotionnels où on a l’ébauche de trucs construits et haletants, qui viennent se retrouver gâchés par votre impossibilité à prendre en compte le lore donné en saison 1, directement ou en essayant de le réparer, à écrire des antagonistes dignes de ce nom et à gérer le rythme du récit. Parce que désolée mais je me remets toujours pas du fait qu’on a perdu trois épisodes à rien faire dans le dernier quart de la saison, alors que l’intrigue ET la romance auraient pu en profiter.

Gif réglementaire d’animal mignon pour aérer le texte.

3) Les personnages On a bien assez parlé des antagonistes. Qu’en est-il des héros ?

- Erika : Les dieux soient loués, elle a beaucoup moins de réactions complètement idiotes et de remarques insultantes envers la notion même d’intelligence, mais c’est toujours pas ça. De plus, j’ai l’impression qu’elle n’a pas eu l’occasion de grandir en tant que personnage, et c’est un peu pareil pour beaucoup d’autres, en fait. De son réveil à la scène de fin de l’épisode, elle aura les mêmes réactions, les mêmes idéaux, et la seule conséquence de nos choix ce sera la teneur de ses discours à la commanderie et aux faëries, et d’autres détails sans grande influence. En tant que daemon je pense que ça a un intérêt, mais en tant qu’aengel, ça ne change rien à ce qu’elle était déjà en saison 1 : un ange représentant la pureté et la beauté du sacrifice, par opposition à l’« égoïsme » des daemons. Elle restera donc au final un personnage assez plat, que nous n’aurons pas eu beaucoup l’occasion de façonner, vu que nos choix de réponses nous apporte un sentiment de contrôle sur sa réaction sur le coup, mais ça ne changera rien à l’histoire, ni beaucoup de choses dans les dialogues avec les autres.

- Mathieu : Avant toute chose, c’est moi ou j’aurai été quasiment la seule personne à poster des avis suivant sa route ?? 😆 Le pauvre Mathieu est parti sur de mauvaises bases, parce que beaucoup ne voyaient pas d’intérêt à romancer un humain dans un monde fantasy. Je comprends le raisonnement, moi je suis partie un peu par défaut vers lui, mais pour moi c’était aussi évident qu’il allait avoir un gros secret à cacher. Ça s’est d’ailleurs révélé assez vite. Il a pas beaucoup évolué non plus, mais au moins on s’est éloigné de sa relation malsaine avec Koori. C’est d’ailleurs dommage que ça n’ait pas été réévoqué plus tard, une petite ligne ici ou là sur comment iels sont toujours ami-e-s mais sans s’envoyer d’insultes. Au final c’était le bon p’tit gars un peu marrant, naïf et qui balance les trucs comme ça lui vient, il casse pas trois pattes à un canard (si je puis me permettre) mais c’était pas un mauvais personnage non plus. Je ne regrette pas d’avoir testé sa route. Par contre j’admets toujours pas qu’on ne sache pas ce qui est arrivé à sa jambe.

- Nevra : Honnêtement ? Un de mes pref. Et j’aurais jamais pensé dire ça un jour, surtout alors qu’à sa première apparition il se prenait pour le perso trop dark et mystérieux qui te regarde en coin en marmonnant des menaces dans les ténèbres. Mais je préfère mille fois ça plutôt que la figure du séducteur/harceleur dans The Origins ; cet archétype ne m’intéresse absolument pas. Et il se révélera plus tard, surtout dans la deuxième moitié de la saison, être un leader charismatique qui sait donner des ordres et diriger une troupe en ayant la tête froide, et c’est appréciable, surtout quand c’est bien la première fois qu’on voit un chef digne de ce nom dans Eldarya.

- Lance : Bon, je vais pas revenir sur ce que je pense de sa réintroduction dans l’histoire, moi non plus j’ai plus le temps. Mais dans l’ensemble, son personnage était agréable à côtoyer. Il est similaire à Valkyon comme ça a déjà été noté, et j’aime bien les persos calmes x) Je pense que là le problème c’est surtout qu’il avait une personnalité trop proche de celle de Nevra : ferme, sérieux, en retrait, avec de la répartie. Il ne se démarquait pas assez de lui, et comme craint, il a perdu le sel de ce qui avait fait de lui un personnage attrayant en tant qu’Ashkore. Pour moi un perso comme ça c’est pas un souci, mais là il ressemblait trop à Nevra.

- Leiftan : Alors lui c’est la pire déception de la saison, genre c’est littéralement un personnage qui ne sert à RIEN. Non seulement il allait en mission sans y avoir sa place mais vraiment il a RIEN FAIT pour faire avancer l'histoire en fait, il aurait pas été là que ça n’aurait rien changé, j'ai l'impression que la seule fois où il a vaguement servi à quelque chose c'est quand il a buté tout le monde à la commanderie mais bon à part ça… Et encore, les seules conséquences que ça a eues c'est que Karenn et Chrome sont allé-e-s sur Terre et nous ont posé des questions après. Alors que les autres ont leur propre rôle au sein de la saison (Nevra est un bras droit/chef, il a Yaqut, Lance il a son passif, il participe aux missions et à l'action, Mathieu il est l'humain qui vient des templiers), Leiftan n’a rien à lui dans l'histoire en elle-même… Il participe pas à l'action, il participe à peine aux décisions, sa seule particularité c'est qu'il essaie de retrouver ses pouvoirs via la méditation, et encore selon nos choix il nous jarte quand on essaie de méditer avec lui mdr. J'aime pas le personnage mais c'est quand même con, c'est un CDC et il n'apporte absolument rien de concret à l'histoire, quoi.

- Les autres : Si Hua est moins mauvaise que Miiko comme cheffe, elle reste antipathique de mon point de vue. Elle cache des choses, elle n’a pas de considération pour Erika, et son gros problème vient surtout de l’adulation qui lui a été portée alors qu’au final elle n’a pas de rôle prophétique, et sa mort et sa résurrection resteront incompréhensibles. Au moins elle est moins insupportable que dans TO. Chrome est l’un de ceux qui m’auront le plus surprise en bien : il a toujours un rôle de comic relief, mais c’est beaucoup moins casse-pied et enfantin, même si ça n’empêche pas qu’il aura souvent été à l’origine de dialogues bouffe-maanas inutiles. Karuto aura été plus agréable aussi, le trope du bougon qui crie sur tout le monde ça va cinq minutes (et son histoire avec Cif aura été le gros point noir de son personnage). Ewe et Karenn auront été égales à elles-mêmes par rapport à la saison 1, la première comme médecin la tête sur les épaules, la seconde comme peste dont chaque réplique me donnait envie de lui clouer la bouche :’) Koori aura rapidement laissé tomber son petit jeu de séductrice qui ne devait pas amuser grand monde, pour au final devenir le personnage de bonne amie un peu extravagante mais mignonne quand même, et Chù aura été le personnage sérieux, très (trop ?) terre à terre, qui n’hésite pas à s’exprimer quand elle a quelque chose à dire (même si des fois c’est impoli ou juste bête), et son gros problème c’est qu’elle n’aura à aucun moment été contredite directement dans l’histoire sur son comportement avec Mathieu. Adalric était fun mais parfois sur-utilisé.

Courage on est presque au bout !!!

4) La romance Ah, le point qui fâche… Eldarya est décrit sur la page d’accueil comme un otome et un dating sim, ce qui implique, comme on l’a vu, que la romance doit tenir une place importante. Et comme on l’a vu aussi, ANE n’a rien à envier à TO sur ce point, puisque la romance peine à se faire sentir. Comme elle commence pareil pour tout le monde, c’est déjà très gênant quand on avait Ezarel ou Valkyon en CDC, ou bien qu’on choisit quelqu’un d’autre que Nevra/Leiftan alors qu’on l’avait avant, puisque les premiers signes arrivent très vite sans l’ombre d’une pensée pour l’ancien CDC, puis plus rien, puis « oh là là malgré mon expérience à Genkaku je réalise que ce mec est mignon hihi, » une vague phase de séduction sur laquelle on ne s’appesantit pas vraiment alors que globalement c’est un peu l’un des meilleurs trucs sur un otome, et après le premier baiser, la « romance » est représentée par des scènes de sexe sans saveur, sans romantisme, par d’occasionnels « je passai la nuit à parler avec CDC » et de vagues « il m’embrassa avant de partir en mission. »

Et c’est tout.

Ah ça le côté aventure et fantasy du contrat il est rempli, ça y’a aucun souci, mais le côté romance c’est peut mieux faire, alors que c’est un des deux arguments de vente du jeu. J’entends bien que c’est compliqué d’équilibrer les deux sans qu’il y en ait un qui passe au second plan, mais là y’a même pas eu de tentative d’équilibrage, en fait. Vous pouvez faire un jeu d’aventures moi ça me dérange pas, mais juste n’appelez pas ça un dating sim, parce que ça n’en est pas un. On a été extrêmement passif-ve-s en tant que joueurs/euses cette saison je trouve, les choix permettaient d’apporter un peu de saveur à nos réponses, mais ils ont eu beaucoup moins de répercussions dans les dialogues avec les autres persos qu’en saison 1. Ce qui est quand même sacrément ironique quand le focus de la saison a été sur les dialogues.

5) Les réponses aux interrogations Alors oui y’a les trucs avec lesquels je fais chier tout le monde comme la sépulture de Valkyon et la jambe de Mathieu, mais au final plein de détails n’auront jamais de réponses, ceci incluant des trucs de la saison 1. On saura jamais qui avait appris à Naytili à corrompre le Cristal, à un moment dans une vision Erika voyait un coffre mystérieux en lien avec Hua, on sait pas ce qui motivait personnellement Leiftan à détruire le Cristal, on a jamais rien su de son passé, on saura pas ce qu’était le dernier truc qu’il a fait juste avant qu’on rentre dans le Cristal, on saura pas comment Caméria a failli être une valkyrie, on saura pas pourquoi Karuto s’est pas marié, on saura pas ce qu’a écrit Koori, on saura pas ce que devient Papounet, on saura pas comment la magie fonctionne sans maana, ça va du détail qui permet de connaître un perso à des trucs de l’intrigue principale et ça me fume. Je comprends pas comment c’est possible, est-ce que personne n’a jamais relu les épisodes antérieurs ? Quelques trucs par-ci par-là osef, mais là il suffit de se pencher pour trouver un truc qui n’aura pas de réponse…

Une réponse qui me manque aussi c’est pourquoi y’a eu un CDC sur « Personne » vu que visiblement ça change absolument rien ?

Bon, rassurez-vous, je crois que j’ai fait le tour x)

C’était donc officiellement la fin d’Eldarya telle que nous la connaissons, l’histoire d’Erika est terminée. On n’attend plus qu’un mot de votre part pour officialiser la fin du jeu tout court, puisque c’est apparemment ce qui nous attend, mais les seules infos qu’on a viennent de screenshots d’échanges avec le support, disant que le jeu ne s’est pas relevé depuis l’incendie d’OVH et doit donc prendre fin. On aimerait bien juste savoir ce que ça signifie pour nous. Allez-vous vendre le jeu comme Cromimi ou le laisser dans un coin comme Ma Bimbo ?

Honnêtement on va pas se mentir, l’incendie n’a, à mon avis, fait que précipiter l’inéluctable. Je pense que tout le monde ici connaît au moins une personne qui a fait le choix de ne pas se recréer de compte au retour du site parce qu’iel n’était déjà plus convaincu-e par le jeu et/ou l’histoire (ou bien était trop dégoûté-e d’avoir perdu ses ressources plus ou moins bien acquises). Et quand il n’y a pas eu d’amélioration au niveau du contenu et de la communication, ça n’a pas aidé. Du coup ben pas étonnant que le jeu ne se soit pas relevé.

Je vais reprendre des trucs que j’avais dits dans mon avis sur l’épisode 30 quand je pensais que je jouerais pas à ANE : merci aux personnes qui ont eu la foi de lire mes pavés, et merci pour vos réactions ! Mon but n’a jamais été de basher pour basher parce que ça n’aide personne, mais je prends plaisir à l’exercice de l’analyse, et je pense qu’une œuvre qui se prend un minimum au sérieux comme Eldarya mérite qu’on essaie au moins de creuser un peu. Alors que j’en suis à la seizième page de cet avis, je me vexerai si on me dit que je ne suis pas une joueuse un minimum investie x)

Je n’ai pas toujours été aussi critique d’Eldarya, j’étais très hypée au tout début, et jusqu’à la fin il y aura eu des choses qui m’auront maintenue en jeu : des tropes qui m’intéressent, des familiers à attraper, des jolies tenues, des répliques cinglantes et des persos qui auront su être attachants. La nostalgie a beaucoup joué aussi, je suis sur le jeu depuis le début, je l’avais attendu après les teasers, et mine de rien je me suis beaucoup impliquée dans ces avis. Au final, le seul épisode que je n’aurai jamais commenté est le spin-off de Valkyon, je suis une fake fan :’)

Je remercie les personnes qui ont participé à l’élaboration des épisodes, parce que malgré mes râleries, bah si y’a personne pour faire les épisodes, y’a pas d’épisode à commenter x) Ça reste un gros travail, et je crois en l’amélioration, je ne désespère pas que la prochaine fois, ce sera mieux.

Petite mention spéciale à la musique, il n’y a personne de crédité donc je sais pas d’où elle sort mais il y avait de très bons morceaux, notamment celui de fin, c’est juste dommage que le bug persiste encore à ce jour.

Merci à toutes les personnes qui ont fait vivre le site, que ce soient les développeurs, les illustrateurs ou les membres actifs du forum. On ne sait pas encore ce qu’il va advenir d’Eldarya, mais malgré tout je ne regrette pas d’avoir participé à l’aventure, parce que je mentirais si je disais que je n’y avais pas passé de bons moments et que ça ne me fait rien que tout se termine.

Eh bien écoutez, si on se revoit pas, je vous souhaite à tou-te-s une très bonne continuation, continuez à être critiques même envers les œuvres que vous adorez, prenez soin de vous, prenez soin de vos proches, moi je vous laisse avec le même gribouillis nul que j’avais mis en fin d’épisode 30 parce que pourquoi pas, après tout x)

Au revoir, et peut-être à une prochaine fois vers d’autres horizons !

#eldarya #eldarya a new era #eldarya spoilers #mes avis #eldarya a new era episode 20 #ptn en vrai j'ai du mal à me dire que c'est fini #enfin fini ça serait bien qu'on ait une confirmation un mot quelque chose #qu'on se retrouve pas tou-te-s comme des cons à faire nos adieux alors qu'en fait ça reprend dans trois mois #ça m'étonnerait mais bon quand même #cela dit on est pas à l'abri d'une reprise #enfin j'ai pu caser mes deux fils préférés dans le même avis je peux partir en paix lol #je parle de gaara et du edward de 2003 #also 17 pages word cet avis c'est mon record #que vais-je faire de ce tumblr maintenant #un peu tout et n'imp je pense mdr #peut-être qu'un jour je reprendrai moonlight lovers #je pourrais aussi tester uncoven remarquez quitte à rester dans beemoov #d'ailleurs je repense à fma03 y'aurait sûrement des trucs à dire entre lance et roy #en tant que génocidaires qu'on rend sympas #bon ce serait un peu injuste parce que les thèmes des 2 oeuvres sont différents mais ce serait marrant

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