#got a statue that came with some lore unexpectedly

[artbytesslyn]

may i please make you aware that kleo’s canon height is over 7 ft tall

[hassakuus]

Alllll-righty then, here are my Hassel Fam hcs/lore/some story shizzle. It’s a bit of long read so here we freaking go,,,

(Also contains a lil sneak preview of one of my ocs I’m writing about)

(Also also, a tw for ab*se and mentions of sc*rs)

- Hass family tree traces back to the 18th century

- They live southwest of Hammerlocke, on dozens of acres of land. Almost like a small village.

- It’s quite hidden deep in the forest. The only way you’d know you’re on their property is if you’re greeted by two statues of dragons leading to an archway.

- The clan has quite the menagerie of dragon Pokémon, breeding them for family and also for up and coming dragon tamers outside of their family.

- Raihan’s family are on somewhat good terms with Hass’s family, but Raihan always felt….. something kinda off about them??? But he never really spoke about that in public.

- They are very traditional. The head of the family is always male and arranged marriages are absolute.

- The current leader is Hassel’s father, Adonis. He is widowed and has three children: two sons, Hassel and Virgil (the latter who is the youngest child), and a daughter named Freya (who is the middle child)

- Adonis is INCREDIBLY two-faced. He knows how to put on an act to strangers: the sweet old man act. But to those who know him, Adonis is very tough, stoic, calculating, ruling over the clan with an iron fist. Always knows that he’ll get what he wants. On top of that, he is an absolute gaslighter.

- Virgil is extremely resentful towards Hassel, wishing he was the next head instead of his older brother. He is also sharp tongued and blunt. Virgil is currently married and has 2 sons (who are just as rude and sharp tongued as him)

- Freya on the other hand, is more reasonable. Regardless, she thinks quite highly of herself and thinks Hassel was selfish of abandoning the family. She was also one of the main people who would regularly sent to retrieve her brother, besides the elders. She is married and has no children.

- Adonis’s wife was named Helene. She was beautiful and strong willed. Although she was resilient like her husband, Helene was more softer towards her children.

- By the time the children turned 10, they began intense training. When they were young, it would start with basics like learning about each type of dragon and bonding time. And when they get older, then the true intense dragon taming sessions would begin.

- It wasn’t uncommon for the children to be verbally abused over just the little mistakes. The clan always DEMANDS perfection, no mistakes whatsoever.

- Adonis and the elders would always say “if they didn’t have any scars, they weren’t training hard enough.”

- It was pretty common in the clan to have training scars.

- They were especially rough with Hassel, considering he was the next head of the family. Hassel was expected to lead the family to greatness and sire a male heir.

- The clan was in a panic when they found out that 16 year old Hassel ran away, basically disappearing.

- “The boy is bluffing. He’ll come back here. I’ll give it a few days before he decides to come back blubbering” Adonis scoffed. Nope, that’s not what happened.

- It would be 7 years until they located Hassel in Paldea. But he stood firm on his decision to stay there and refuse to come home.

- Suddenly, Helene had unexpectedly passed away. It left Adonis and his children crushed. That was the only time Hassel came back home.

- Initially he was going to stay for a while but after a huge blowout with his father, a day after the funeral, Hassel went back to Paldea. He would never return home.

- And so began relatives trying to convince him to come home. Virgil only did it once and,,,,,, let’s just say it didn’t turn out so good

- Adonis never went. Not only because of tending to the clan at home, but being a stubborn ass.

- The next time he would hear from Hass is when he got married to his first wife. The clan was overjoyed (albeit it wasn’t a woman of his father’s choosing, his son was married regardless)

- Adonis didn’t visit but he did send a telegram congratulating Hassel on his marriage.

- Regardless, they still continued to pester him to come home.

- Once again, it would be another 6 years when he would hear from his son again. Only this time, it came to light that Hassel had become a father.

- Now Adonis was fucking GIDDY about this piece of news. Like this mf was excited that his son was bringing a new heir.

- Once again he was unable to visit but a year later, he decided to go see his son. It had been years since they last saw each other and they left on sour terms.

- Freya decided to come along. Adonis was excited to see their new heir.

- Hassel thought his father was bluffing when he said he was coming over but nope it was true :’)

- “Where is my grandson? I would like to see him” Adonis asked. Hassel was super hesitant about the whole ordeal but he had to come clean.

- Two revelations had came out. A: Hassel and his wife had divorced and had been divorced for over a year. B and the biggest reveal of all: instead of a son, Hassel had a daughter. He was raising the girl by himself.

- Hassel brought the baby to see her aunt and grandfather. But he was clutching her a little tightly, having a feeling of they would try to do something .

- “Oh.” That was the only thing Adonis could say. He was….. well, no one could really tell how he felt or what he was thinking because his face was just in a blank stare.

- He decided to talk to Hassel alone. Adonis began asking him if he had been back in the dating scene

- Hassel knew he would ask this. Currently, dating is the last thing on his mind as he has a bigger task at hand at the moment.

- “But what if, one of these days, your daughter would want a sibling? Perhaps a baby brother” Adonis asked.

- There it is. He knew it. He knew his father wouldn’t accept her. Adonis tried to be all innocent about it: “Hassel, she is an adorable baby, there is no doubt about that. But you know she can’t be the next heir. That would break our clan’s law and-“

- “Get. Out.” Hassel growled. They began to leave, not before Adonis promising that he will find another wife for Hassel and that he WILL give him a grandson. That was the last time he saw his son.

- Years passed and other clan members continued to pester Hassel on coming back. Adonis refused to go back to Paldea.

- The ONLY time the clan was proud of Hassel was when he was inducted into the Elite Four. But found it nonsensical that he became a teacher and on top of that, dating a grass type gym leader.

- Adonis began to realize deep down that he’s fighting a losing battle. And he was feeling…. regret and shame???? All throughout Hassel’s youth, he was tough on him. Forcing him to do something he didn’t want to do, belittling him. He thought he was toughening Hassel up but that wasn’t it.

- His stubbornness and actions had pushed his son away and denying a relationship with his granddaughter.

- However, he would never admit this and was still under the belief that Hassel will come home one of these days.

- Currently, the clan is still going strong. However, now they are all starting to realize that Hassel will never come back no matter how hard they push (he’s been saying that for 38 years and NOW they’re starting to realize they’re losing smh)

ANDDDDD that’s all imma write for now. Sorry that this is long as shit 😭 I wasn’t intending this to be this long but fuck it (also sorry if the writing sucks, tried my best hsjshsj)

I’ll add some more shit down the road and do a lil edit here and there and etc but yea this is my au thing for Hass and his fam

[the-lupine-sojourner]

The Tale of Astoria Kenobi [Prologue] [Obitine and Anidala featured] [Dad!Obi-Wan/Daughter!OC]

Please be aware before you read this that I am by no means an expert at all things Star Wars, much as I would like to be.

So please understand that there are more than likely errors in what I've written, especially with the timeline.

Please don't jump down my throat, as the errors are unintentional. I tried to make it as accurate as I could, with my current understanding of the Star Wars lore. If you spot anything wrong, please gently point it out so I can correct it and be patient with me. I'm still learning the lore.

Okay so the initial post I made about Astoria got some interest, so I’m putting in an impromptu taglist. Let me know if you want to be added! 

Tagging: @forcearama​ who created the Scandalore/Obitine Secret Marriage AU I’m using in this story, @elite-guard-hardygal​ for being the first to express interest in my OC, @sunshineisdelightful​ for being supportive about my Obitine baby lol, and @fwtcanimelover​ for also being interested in being tagged in this fic. 

You guys honestly helped me not be as nervous about diving into this story. 

Anyway, I will let you guys read the story now and I hope you all enjoy it!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

(I think I’ll let this GiF kinda serve as the cover, I guess. I love it!)

Meetings in back alleys and secluded corners of Mandalore was not uncommon, a pair of hooded figures no exception as they near each other.

"Is it true?" A man's voice asks, simple hooded robe around his shoulders, the hood lowered as he addresses the woman before him, who smiles in greeting as she lowers her own, more ornate, hood.

The woman, Duchess Satine of Mandalore, knew what this meant, for both of them, but she didn't care. It was well worth it.

"...Yes, love. It is. I'm 3 months along now."

The breath the Padawan before her, Obi-Wan Kenobi, releases is full of terror of the unknown, wonder at the power of creation, and anxiety about their next move.

The man she loved was always so conflicted, it seems. She puts a comforting hand on his cheek. "Darling, we'll work it out. Somehow." She assures him, wishing she knew the words to ease his worries and fears.

"I fear this is an impossible task."

"Nonsense. We've been married six months now and no one's the wiser, not even your Master Qui Gon."

That was a valid point, but Obi-Wan suspected Qui Gon either knew or was growing suspicious.

There was another problem Obi-Wan saw arising in the future… "But when the child is older, when they connect with the Force, how will we-?"

"You once said the Force connects with random people, correct? If that is so, we'll pretend it is a miracle and she'll report to the Jedi Temple for training. She'll be- -"

"It's a girl?" Obi-Wan asks, breathless, hardly aware he was interrupting in his excitement at the news.

His hand goes to feel the slightly swollen stomach, eyes on his wife's abdomen as if to see his growing child.

Satine smiles serenely, hand over her husband's. "Yes. I just found out the gender myself, actually. And if she is to be a Jedi, I'll act as if I have no idea how she developed these powers."

Much as he wanted that to be enough, Obi-Wan knew better, his smile faltering before leaving altogether. "That won't work. The Council will know as soon as she steps foot in the Temple." He takes a breath. "I fear they could already have their suspicions."

Satine breathes a heavy sigh. She loved Obi-Wan, truly she did, but he could be rather paranoid sometimes. "We won't feed any rumors. We'll act innocent."

Obi-Wan smiles almost sadly, knowing it won't do much, if anything, to delay the truth coming out.

But, for Satine's sake, he could act like it would work.

So he puts a tender hand on her cheek, easing her in for a kiss. "Let's hope that's enough."

=#=#=#=#=

"Mommy mommy!" A five-year-old voice cries out, the only warning Satine had before she was pounced on by her daughter, Astoria. "Wake up, Mommy!"

Satine groggily sits up. "What is it, Astoria?" She asks, rubbing her eyes as Astoria burrows almost painfully into Satine's lap.

"The funny man says there's a ship here. He says it's a Jedi ship." Satine's heart skips a beat. Obi-Wan wouldn't appear unannounced like this without something dreadful happening. He'd done this when Qui-Gon was killed and he was suddenly Knighted with a Padawan to train. She'd been woken up by him easing himself through her window. He'd arrived in the dead of night and snuck past her guards.

She hoped it wasn't too serious this time. "Really?" She asks, managing to keep a level voice, scooping her daughter up and setting her on the floor as she stands to get dressed.

"Yeah, but not Uncle Obi's ship." Over the brief five years Satine had been blessed with Astoria, she had always told Astoria that Obi-Wan was something of an uncle, since Obi-Wan was such a close friend of hers. The truth about Astoria's father was a topic Satine avoided almost at all costs, unwilling to have that conversation with her child yet.

It pained both Satine and Obi-Wan horribly to not be truthful with their daughter, but they agreed it was better for everyone that they not tell Astoria and maintain their lie.

"Oh?" Satine turns as the door opens to reveal the 'funny man' Astoria had mentioned. Astoria was still too young to fully understand why the armored men followed them around, and as such referred to the guards collectively as 'funny man'. Especially the captain, whose helmet seemed to amuse Astoria.

"Afraid not. A Jedi by the name of Master Fisto wishes to have an audience with you, my lady." The captain reports, having stepped into the room moments before. Satine is intrigued, but also has a gut feeling she knew why the Jedi had shown up so unexpectedly.

Hurriedly, she dresses in her usual green, purple, and blue outfit, wanting to appear presentable to the Jedi Master.

Then, she takes Astoria's hand and follows the captain to the throne room. There was a member of the Nautolan race, his tentacles serving as a kind of hair halfway down his back. He turns as the doors open and greets the Duchess and her daughter with a warm, wide smile, nodding and half-bowing in respect to Satine and waving kindly at Astoria.

"Ah, Duchess Satine, what an honor." He says with a deep, charming voice. His eyes were large and black, subtly unsettling at first, but his personality soon set Satine at ease.

"Master Jedi. To what do we owe the pleasure?" Satine asks, accepting a kiss on the knuckles from the Jedi, who seems to ooze manners and charisma.

"I'm afraid it's official Jedi business, madam. Regarding Astoria." Satine's heart skipped as Astoria, settled in her mother's lap as usual, looked at her mother with curious eyes.

Satine had known this day would come. Now came the part where she acted clueless.

"What about my daughter?" She asks and gets a feeling this Jedi knew that she knew what this was about, but humors her with an explanation.

"Are you aware of the Force?" He asks.

"In some aspects, yes. I understand it's what you Jedi use to keep the peace, correct?" Satine replies. She'd picked up much of the Jedi customs during her time under Jedi protection and marriage to a Jedi Padawan, and didn't need to act like she didn't.

"Yes. The Force guides every living thing, and reveals those it has chosen to be future Jedi. Those who have a strong connection to the Force ought to be trained how to use it properly, at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant." Satine frowns, arms around Astoria protectively.

"And you believe my daughter has this connection to your Force?" She asks, knowing the answer. After all, there were already signs Satine had seen of the Force within her daughter.

Astoria had once drawn herself with Jedi robes on, saying she wanted to be just like Uncle Obi one day. She'd then stated that she could make things move like her 'uncle' and proceeded, after several moments of intense concentration, to make her drink move the short distance to her outstretched hand.

There were a few other instances of precise throwing of toys that shouldn't be possible in a girl her age.

How the Jedi knew Astoria had a Force connection was beyond the Duchess.

"We've seen it, Duchess." Master Fisto replies as if he had heard the Duchess' thoughts. "I understand your hesitance but believe me, it is in Astoria's best interest." He explains, and Satine reluctantly decides to hear him out before making any decision.

"How so?" She asks, "As I understand it, the Jedi go to unknown worlds and oftentimes are involved in combat and war. I hardly see how that is in Astoria's best interest."

"As a mother, I can only imagine how difficult this is for you." Fisto says placatingly and Satine could tell he meant every word. "However, we Jedi go through much training as younglings before we are assigned to a Master for further intense training. Astoria will not see combat for many years."

"Mommy, are we going to Coruscant?" Astoria asks excitedly. "Are we gonna see where Uncle Obi works?" Satine had explained briefly about Obi-Wan's status as a Jedi, referring to it as a job.

Astoria had heard of Coruscant, but had never left Mandolore.

"...I'm...not sure, darling." Satine replies, mind stormy with indecision. Kit Fisto hums to himself in thought.

"Perhaps the Counsel would allow you to come with Astoria and me, so you may see for yourself where Astoria will be staying and training." He suggests. "Would that help ease your conscience, Duchess?"

"If it could be done, that would greatly ease my mind." Satine concedes, thinking it highly unlikely the Jedi Counsel would allow an outsider, much less a Mandalorian, into their secret temple. Obi-Wan had told her how carefully the Temple was guarded.

Kit Fisto bows at the waist, smiling happily at this turn of events. "I will contact them right away, if you like."

Satine nods. Best to see what arrangements might be made for Satine going to the Temple or not before she made a decision. "Astoria and I must excuse ourselves for our breakfast. Perhaps you can join us when you are through with the Counsel?" She offers, wanting to make a fresh start between Mandalore and the Jedi. Kit Fisto smiles brightly.

"I would like that very much. I'll step outside for a few minutes, and join you shortly." Satine rises, nodding to the Jedi before walking out of the throne room.

"Can I bring my toy blaster?" Astoria asks excitedly as they walk. "I can show Uncle Obi!"

Satine chuckles. "We have to see what the Jedi says once he's talked to the Counsel, Astoria." She explains gently. "But if we do go to Coruscant, you may take your toy blaster. I cannot guarantee we will see your uncle, but if we do, I'm sure he'll love your toy."

=#=#=#=

Kit Fisto, on the other side of the doors to the palace, chuckles to himself.

What he had thought was a simple negotiation for a future Jedi was turning out to be something very intriguing.

For one thing, the Duchess was surprisingly civil and courteous with the Jedi, beyond some understandable doubts about what he was suggesting.

For another, Astoria held a connection to the Force that surprised him. It felt...well, it felt exactly like the new Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi's connection.

That meant Obi-Wan had some explaining to do.

Fisto then had a realization; Satine and Obi-Wan, if they had indeed formed enough of an attachment to each other to have a child together, they would know better than to let anyone know of what they'd done.

Fisto found that he couldn't see himself turning them in. He rather liked Obi-Wan and didn't want to see the look on the boy's face when it was discovered that he had violated the Jedi Code. Especially since Obi-Wan had just lost his master and barely begun training that new Youngling, Anakin Skywalker.

Kit Fisto decided he would do what he could to make sure his friend's secret remained hidden.

His conference with the Counsel was short. They were in agreement that it was best for all parties if Satine came with her daughter to Coruscant. The tension between the Jedi and Mandalore had been high until Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been assigned to protect the new Duchess. If they wished for true peace, they had to be willing to make a few concessions.

Normally, the Force-sensitive child was brought back to the Temple without family members, but refusing to allow Satine, such a high-ranking official of Mandalore, to accompany her daughter may raise tensions again, undoing the progress made toward peace.

Fisto thanked the Counsel and once more entered the palace, asking a guard where Satine and Astoria would be eating breakfast.

A few minutes later, he found the pair eating and laughing together. He chuckled as he walked closer. "I have good news." He calls, and the laughter slowly dies. Satine motions for the Jedi to sit on her other side, across from Astoria, who smiles at him around a mouthful of fruit.

"Chew and swallow, Astoria." Satine orders gently before turning to Fisto. "They'll allow me to come with you and Astoria?"

"Yes, in the name of peace between Mandalore and the Jedi. You understand this is an exception to the rule."

Satine nods, unable to believe her luck. "Yes, I am sure. I will tell them how grateful I am when I meet them." She replies.

"I would hate for Astoria to have any trouble adjusting to life in the Temple. It seems harsh to separate you two immediately, given how old Astoria is." Kit Fisto continues, looking at Astoria kindly.

Satine frowns. "What is the average age of the children you bring to the Temple?" Obi-Wan mentioned he was very young when he was brought to the Temple, but he'd never given an exact age.

"I'm afraid it's a deal younger than Astoria is, but the Force doesn't always select the new generation of Jedi at the same ages. However, she is still young enough to begin her training."

"I see."

"Madam, if I may, I have watched a few classes of Younglings from arriving in the Temple to being selected by a Master. All of them have been treated very well and grow up with everything they need provided to them."

"I know, Master Jedi." Satine replies, eyes still sorrowful. "As a mother, however, it pains me that I won't see her grow up." Kit Fisto feels an immense sympathy for Satine. He knew it was a very difficult thing, giving your child away like this.

"Believe me, I understand how painful this must be, but there is hope. We are not forbidden from contacting our families if we choose. Astoria will be permitted to talk to you at fairly regular intervals, and even perhaps make a few visits."

Satine finds that comforting and nods. "Thank you."

Fisto smiles (an expression he used often, Satine notes). "Not at all, Duchess."

By noon, Astoria was ready to go. Fisto had explained that she would be provided Jedi robes, so there was no need to pack clothes. However, he conceded to let Astoria bring a few personal things and two pieces of jewelry.

Satine took off a necklace around her neck when they were left alone.

It was a simple crystal, purple in hue, and still in perfect condition. Obi-Wan had found the crystal, claimed it was a good luck charm, and strung it craftily on a strong chain, putting it on Satine when he first confessed attraction to her. It seemed fitting she pass it on to her daughter now.

"Come here, Astoria." Satine calls and Astoria comes over from deciding what three toys she'd bring. Astoria spots the necklace and seems to know her mother wanted to put it on her. "Your father would want you to have it." Satine says, remembering the way Obi-Wan had smiled at her as he proclaimed it would bring her good luck and protection.

"Really?" Astoria asks eagerly, drinking up any information about her father like a dry sponge.

"Yes. He is so proud of you, you know." Satine felt suddenly ready to cry, even though they would not be separated yet. She desperately wished Obi-Wan were here. He'd make this so much easier.

Astoria slips the necklace under her shirt before hugging her mom. "Thank you, Mommy!" She chirps and Satine felt the sadness temporarily ease as she hugs Astoria.

"Come along now, darling. Let's not keep Master Fisto waiting."

=#=#=#=#=

The trip to Coruscant was rather uneventful. Kit Fisto was in his own ship and could not answer Satine's burning questions about what Astoria was getting into.

She did, however, have an opportunity to slip into a small side room and contact Obi-Wan to tell him the news.

"Darling, I have news." She says when he picks up. Obi-Wan smiles at her and walks a few paces, probably to get somewhere a tad more private.

"What is it?" He asks.

"Astoria and I are on our way to Coruscant." She says. Obi-Wan frowns.

"Is everything alright?" He asks.

"Quite. We had a visit from a Master Fisto, and it seems the day has come for Astoria to begin her Jedi training." Obi-Wan's eyes go wide. Neither of them had much of a clue as to what they'd actually do when the time came for Astoria to begin training.

"I see. Unfortunately, I won't be able to train her myself. I have Anakin to worry about." Satine nods. Obi-Wan had told her all about Anakin.

"Not to worry. Master Fisto assures me she'll be well looked after, no matter who she's trained by."

Obi-Wan nods. "Oh, I'm certain she'll fit right in here at the Temple." His eyes turn sad and Satine knows duty called. "I'm afraid I have something to take care of. Send me a signal when you make the final approach and I'll see if I can meet you." Satine nods, blowing a kiss in their traditional farewell before ending the transmission.

Suddenly, Satine didn't feel as upset and anxious as she had about this development. She'd soon see her darling husband, leaving their daughter in him and Fisto's more than capable hands.

Perhaps one day Astoria would learn the truth about who she was and would forgive her parents for their deception.

[queen-scribbles]

Time Well Spent

For @pillarspromptsweekly: Afterword. I kinda stretched it a little, since most of my Watchers got endings to everything I’m pretty happy to leave alone. (There’s always Derrin, but I’ve written that fix-it fic before) So this is me “fixing” the fact that the Watcher always stays in Caed Nua at the end. (Really I just wanted an excuse to write Adi and Kana buddyfic /cough)

Ah-CHOO! It was a big sneeze for a tiny person, and the acoustics of the stone chamber made it echo even louder. Adela sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, picking up the lantern she’d dropped. “Gods, it’s dusty in here.”

Kana’s chuckle echoed much lower than her sneeze had. “Adi, it’s a crypt. No one’s been down here for six or seven hundred years at least. I’d be more surprised if it wasn’t dusty.”

“That would portend some advancement in burial procedures we’ve not yet encountered,” she agreed with a laugh. “I’ve never met a culture that knew how to completely seal a crypt. Coffins and caskets, yes; crypts, no.” She ran her finger through the dust on the wall, revealing a thin line of the colors painted underneath. “Most kith are more worried about grave robbers than a little dust...”

“Which accounts for all the traps,” he muttered, absently rubbing one shoulder.

“I told you to wait,” Adela said fondly. “You’re lucky your reflexes have gotten better and I can yell louder than one would think.”

Kana nodded acknowledgement. “That I am. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“No, you, won’t,” she laughed. “I’ve heard that promise three times in the span of six months. You forget about it every time you get excited about something.”

He wiped the dust off a larger section of the wall. “I do try. But some of the things we’ve found since you joined me... They’re so fantastic I can’t help but get excited.”

“I know. And I’d never ask you to change. I will, however, tease occasionally.” Adela winked at him before studying the door they needed to get through. “And this is heaps more fun than being Roadwarden. I just don’t wanna watch my best friend die or get hurt ‘cause he was too caught up to properly check for traps.”

She squinted at the characters carved into the door frame. They looked almost familiar, as if from something studied long ago and half forgotten. With a little more concentration, she realized that was exactly what they were. But that only brought more questions. Chiefly, why the blazes there was a dead Ixamitl dialect in a crypt on an island so small it wasn’t even on the map.

But mysteries like this was exactly why Adela had jumped to accept when Kana invited her along on his explorations once he’d made his report to the lore college. She didn’t have anything against being Lady of Caed Nua, but this was type of puzzle she liked to solve. Not how to fund restorations without raising taxes, or work out trade disputes between two groups with equally low opinions of orlans, and thus her.

“Adi?” Kana prompted, dragging her from her reverie.

“Sorry. This is Katl, a dead language, and one I’m rusty on, so it’s taking longer to translate.” She brushed her fingers over the stone, nails catching briefly on the carven words. “This is the way we want, but it has the typical ‘only the worthy’ rhetoric, so...”

“Take it slow?” he finished with a meaningful look. “Look out for traps?”

“Exactly.” Adela grabbed the pulley chain next to the door and hauled on it. Even digging in her heels, it barely moved.

Kana chuckled and reached one big hand over her shoulder to wrap around the handle. It opened easily for him, with the rough grinding of ancient stone they’d become all too accustomed to over the past several months. “There we go.”

“Thanks.” Shaking out stiff fingers, she peered suspiciously down the hall they’d revealed. “Y’know, for a crypt built in an overwhelmingly aumaua region, that looks awfully small.” She looked up at Kana. “Are you gonna fit?”

He took a moment to examine the passage. “I may have to duck in a couple spots, but I believe so.”

“I’m more worried about traps,” Adela said pointedly. “If you don’t have much--if any--extra room, Wael forbid we set anything off. You wouldn’t be able to dodge.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to keep a sharp eye out, won’t I?” Kana said with a reassuring smile. “I’m as curious about this place as you are, Adi. I’ll not be turned back by close quarters.”

Part of her wanted to protest further, but Adela bit her tongue. Risky as it might have been in the close confines of the crypt, it made sense for Kana to go first. He’d always had a better eyes for picking out traps than she did. (Didn’t stop him from triggering them if he was sufficiently distracted by some tantalizing discovery)

So she fell in step behind him and drank in the beautiful--if faded--frescoes that decorated the walls. She was so lost in that she almost missed the faint shink as Kana’s shoulder grazed the wall despite his best efforts. At first, nothing seemed to have happened. Then she noticed some of the floor tiles, scattered in a seemingly-random order, had sunk fractionally further in their settings. Including the one she was standing on.

Oh, no. Adela tensed. Something clicked in the wall and she flung herself forward, rolling past Kana as the tile dropped away completely. “Wael’s eyes, whoever built this crypt really didn’t want aumaua getting in.”

“They picked a bad location for a grave they didn’t want my people visiting,” Kana said with a wry chuckle. “Are you alright?”

She nodded and twirled the end of her braid. “Is this worth it, Kana? I’m just worried you’re going to wind up with more than a bruised shoulder if we keep going...”

“I appreciate your concern, Adi, but we’re almost there.” He gestured at the doorway ahead, flanked by statues indicative of the crypt’s central chamber. “We came looking for something, I’d much rather find it. And we have some questions that need answers, do we not?”

She was rather desperately curious why there was a crypt with Katl inscriptions two days’ sail from Rauatai. “Alright, you have a point. Just be careful, yeah? This hallway turned into a minefield of trigger tiles when you bumped the wall just now.”

Kana glanced at the remaining distance and frowned. “It looks the same to me...”

“Must be ‘cause you’re so tall,” Adela teased. “You can’t see the difference from up there. I’ll have to tell you which ones are safe to step on, then. Follow me.”

Now she took the position of guide, stepping--and occasionally hopping--from one safe tile to the next. Kana followed behind her, laughing that this reminded him of some of the Engwithan ruins they’d explored more than any other culture.

“One more thing to add to the mystery of this place,” Adela rejoined with a chuckle. “Dead Ixamitl language, built near Rauatai but practically designed to keep aumaua out... let’s toss elements of Engwithan design into the pot as well. Why not? It makes as much sense as everything else here.” She paused by the dark doorway, chewing her lip in thought. “Unless... what if our contradictory dead friend was Leaden Key?” Adela curled the tail of her braid around her thumb as she tested the theory. “We know they were... widespread, to vastly understate things, which explains the Katl. That they were missionary, which explains why this kith is here. They were Engwithan, giving the mixed design styles. And they’re blazing secretive, which explains why this place is not designed to accommodate the locals. But they clearly wanted access to what’s in here--hopefully the writings we’re after--hence there being a way around all the traps for kith who know what to do.” She snapped her fingers. “Those who are worthy to find it, as in, other Leaden Key members.”

Kana looked thoughtful, trying to peer through the darkness of the room ahead. “A sound theory, my friend. But if it was of such import, why does this place look to have been abandoned for several hundred years?”

Adela shrugged. “Whoever was responsible for passing down the location died unexpectedly. Or they decided the writings or whatever’s here were no longer important, so they just sealed it up. But with the number of traps in this place, it must’ve been really important.” She glanced at him slyly. “Perhaps the sort of knowledge someone dogged enough to hunt down the Tanvii ora Toa would look for?”

Kana laughed and shook his head. “Dogged is a kind way to put it, Adi. It’s a sound theory, though, far as I can tell. I suppose you appreciate the irony of being unable to avoid the Leaden Key if you’re correct?”

Adela nodded. “That and us finding something that might be ancient Key activity when Aloth’s busy hunting down the more modern branches.” She sighed. “I wish the records pointing this way had been just a little more clear. Knowing what we’re walking into would be nice.”

“It would, but we can manage,” Kana said encouragingly. He gestured toward the doorway. “Shall we?”

Adela gave her braid one last tug and scanned the doorway for any sign of traps. She didn’t see anything. “Might as well.”

The two entered the central chamber cautiously, lanterns held high. Even with the illumination, they couldn’t see more than a fraction of the huge room. Unlike the hallways and entry chamber, the walls here were plain. Not a fresco or inscription in sight.

“Huh.” Adela chewed her lower lip in thought as she examined what she could see. Kana followed as she walked closer to the sealed sarcophagus on the far side of the room, both keeping an eye out for things that might set off traps. 

When they reached the sarcophagus, it was plain save a short inscription in Katl along the rim facing the door: Given to the gods and their service.

Adela ran her fingers over the words as she murmured the translation for Kana. He pursed his lips in thought and surveyed the room thoughtfully once more.

“Sadly lacking in iconography if this is truly the final resting place for one of their own,” he commented.

She shrugged. “They are all about secrecy. And maybe they figure everything out there”--a gesture back the way they’d come--”was sufficient.”

Kana chuckled. “Perhaps. What next?”

“Since there’s no writing or decoration on the walls, I’m pretty sure there aren’t any secret compartments...” Adela said under her breath, more thinking out loud then talking to him. She looked at the sarcophagus, eyes narrowing. “Which means the writing we’re after, if it’s here, is probably in with our nameless dead friend.” She tentatively rested one hand against the stone. No enchantments or traps that she could sense. “Help me open it.”

Kana shot her a skeptical look. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“C’mon, Kana,” she wheedled, flashing him a wide smile. “It’s just a box. No harm ever ever came from opening a box.”

He made a noise of not-quite-disagreement and raised an eyebrow. “I seem to recall hearing that one before, shortly preceding a battle with several walking skeletons.”

“That only happened once,” Adela protested, rolling her eyes. “And I hadn’t checked that tomb for enchantments. This one I did.” She pushed against the stone lid, but her slight frame wasn’t even enough to make it rattle. “Come on, we’ve made it this for and we’re so close.”

“If you’re right,” Kana pointed out, then shook his head. “Ondra’s teeth, you know how to use a man’s curiosity against him...” He smiled fondly. “Though I suppose I did know what I was getting myself into when I invited you to join me. Very well, then.”

He swung his pack down from his shoulder to the floor, produced a prybar, and in short order had created enough of a gap they could slide aside the sarcophagus lid. Adela barely had time to register the partitioned inside--one compartment holding the occupants’ bones, the other a set of beautifully preserved scrolls--before a shimmering bluish-white spirit rose between her and Kana and their prize. It paused a moment, as if to get its bearings, before deigning to notice its company.

When it did, Adela felt an icy wave of suspicion radiate out from the spectral form as it spoke imperiously. “You stand before the Keeper of the Book. State your name and purpose.”

Caught off-guard by its presence and manner both, all she managed was a confused, “Huh?”

It was clearly not the answer the spirit had sought. It let out an angry screech and dove toward her. Adela yelped and batted it away with her grimoire.

Knew there was a reason I brought that, she thought with a grim smile as she dropped her lantern to pull out her sceptre.

It was, unsurprisingly, not much of a fight. There were two of them to the one spirit, and they’d been fighting together long enough to make quite a deadly pair when they needed to. Sure, by the end of their scrap Adela’s hair was singed and Kana had a lightning burn along his forearm from the one nasty spell it managed to cast, but they’d beaten the spirit back to a more... charitable disposition.

It still bore an air of supremely ruffled feathers as it resumed its position between them and the sarcophagus, but there was trace more respect in its voice. “Tell me of your labors.”

That’s when it clicked--even though it skipped a question--and Adela couldn’t stop herself from slapping one hand to her face and letting out a heavy sigh. I’m. An. Idiot. It had been her damned theory and she hadn’t connected those dots.  “To see that the craft of kith and wilder does not disturb what bones the gods have buried,” she replied.

The spirit flickered approvingly. “And how is your oath guarded?”

“It is sealed by the Leaden Key.” So she’d been right. Galawain’s beard, why couldn’t she get away from these people?

Another approving flicker as the spirit swayed to the side. “And why have you come here, young acolyte?”

“I seek the centuries-guarded knowledge,” Adela said, reaching back to grab the side of Kana’s hand and squeeze as he started to interject. Shhh. “I wish to share in the knowledge and protect it.” By taking it away from here.

The spirit flickered a few more times as it deliberated, then bobbed in assent.  “Very well, child. You are worthy to share my knowledge. Treat it with the respect it deserves.”

“I will,” she promised. She waited for the spirit to dissipate before approaching the sarcophagus. Now with time to look, she could see the skeleton that occupied most of the space. It looked to be either a tall elf or short folk from the stature. Any clothing they’d been wearing had long since turned to dust, leaving only the jewelry at hands and neck to show their importance.

Satisfied on that score, Adela turned to the scrolls. Dark green seals on all of them gave off a faint aura of magic, explaining how they were still in such good condition after centuries. She ran a finger along the one on top and felt the preservation spell shiver at her touch. Such a shame most enchantment methods like this have been lost...

“Adi.” Kana nudged her shoulder. When she glanced over, he was holding out one of the extra shoulder bags they brought on expeditions for exactly this purpose. 

“Oh, thank you.” She eyed the number of scrolls. “If I hold the bag, can you put them in? I don’t wanna drop any.”

He chuckled and handed it over. “Of course.”

In short order, the two of them had all the scrolls--fourteen, total--in the bag, which Adela shouldered. (It was only fair; Kana was carrying everything else, plus he’d gotten the worst of the fight.)

“Ready to be on our way?” Kana asked, already turning toward the exit. His arm probably hurt like the blazes, Adela mused. She couldn’t blame him for being in a hurry. But just as she was about to agree and lead the way back up that infernal hallway, a flash of pink caught her eye inside the sarcophagus.

“One second,” she said instead. Upon closer inspection, it was a ring on the skeleton’s little finger; silver band with a round, inset pink gem. She briefly battled the little voice screaming grave robber! before giving in to temptation and scooping up the ring.

The crypt didn’t collapse on their heads, and no angry spirits rose to call her a thief, so she took that as a sign she was safe. It’s my favorite color, I’ll appreciate it more than a skeleton can, it’s not like I’m planning to sell it....

Rolling her eyes at the rambling justifications, Adela turned back to Kana and smiled brightly as she slipped the ring on her thumb. “Now I’m ready.” She nodded toward his arm. “Let’s get back to the ship so you can get patched up.”

“I would appreciate that, yes,” Kana said with a sheepish smile. “Hopefully the way out will go more smoothly than the way in, since we know where all the dangers lie.” 

“Hopefully,” Adela agreed with a laugh.

It did. The trapped hallway was still tricky to navigate, but she had a good memory and they made it out without triggering anything. After that, it was a short walk back to the beach and an uneventful ride out to the Seeker with a waiting crewman.

“Don’t start without me,” Kana said, tone teasing but eyes serious as he nodded toward the scrolls before heading down to see the ship’s doctor.

“Cross my heart,” Adela promised and headed to his cabin to wait. It was hard--she was so very curious--but Kana had put just as much time and effort into finding the scrolls. It was only fair they read them together. So she waited, all but vibrating with excitement as she perched on the edge of Kana’s bunk, until he showed up. “All taken care of?”

Kana nodded. “It wasn’t as bad as it looked.” He ran his fingers over the bandages. “Carinna said it should be fine, so long as I don’t try to do too much the next few days.”

“I don’t think she has anything to worry about.” Adela grinned and handed him a scroll. “We have a lot of reading to do.”

He laughed and carefully broke the seal. “Indeed we do. Let’s get started on that, shall we?”

So they did. And both considered the next several days time well spent.

[wakraya]

Hiveswap: The Theorizening

Having finished Hiveswap, there’s a lot of different things going through my head at once, thoughts, theories, characters, so I’ll try to not mix things together! That being said, as theories tend to be, Spoiler Warning under the cut! Also sadly I won’t be able to post images in it quite yet since they’re not too easily available around right now, will probably have to wait until some Youtube Video pops up with the gameplay/cutscenes. Without further ado!

Grandpa Harley - There’s a lot that has been revealed about Grandpa in the first half of Act 1, before moving to Alternia. He’s an absent father, and his absence obviously affects Joey a lot. She doesn’t like to blame herself for him not being there, and thus channels this as well deserved anger towards him, specially as she cannot relate to him in the slightest with his disdain for animal life. However, I noticed a few things Joey mentions. He’s been coming back home less and less ever since his wife died, and having ‘vacations to the Pacific Ocean’. I don’t know what’s going through that moustached head of his, but Jake didn’t come across the Frog Temple by mere chance, he actively seeked it for years before bumping into it. Where did he learn about it? What’s going on? Also the basement is full of Crockercorp Tools, old, but still present there. Is there some mind control and manipulation going on perhaps? Jane had to bear with the Baroness for a long while before she straight up faded, but Jake just ‘left her’, perhaps Crockercorp things reminded him of his departed sister? For all the hoarding and aimless adventuring we always thought he did, it seems like he does have a goal. That being said, the obsession doesn’t excuse his neglect for his family or being a shitty parent and being absolutely crazy but, yeah. There’s something deeper going on with him, and I’ll be glad to explore this facet of him on Hauntswitch.

A. Claire - She’s dead. From the very first moment you start the game, in the very first room, you get heavy clues that she’s already dead. However, while I thought A. Claire was nothing more than ‘Joey’s Mom’ before, after playing through the game I can’t help but feel there’s something more to it. She had the Key. The Key was a ‘Heirloom’ she stored in her jewelry box? Or did it appear there afterwards? Joey heavily associates it to her, and with Grandpa’s obsession of tracking down the Frog Temple growing stronger after she died, I have to wonder if there’s something more going on with her. How did she die, exactly? What was she hiding? Again, something really interesting to have in mind for Hauntswitch.

Tetrarch Dammek - Wow. I don’t think any of us expected him to be such a dick. Look at that name, too- Tetrarch Dammek. Tetrarch is basically ‘one of four rulers’, and I believe Xefros alludes to there being another 3 Tetrarchs within the resistance. With him gone, the power structure of the Rebellion is shaking, and now Trizza will make her move- They have to make do, and they’re very likely going to have to get Joey to help them. Back to Dammek himself though, Tetrarch is ALSO an 8-Letter title, like Adults on Alternia seem to use. The Tetrarch. Along with his ideals and how he treats Xefros, it seems that he’s living a sort of Highblood Power Fantasy of Leadership and Control to bring Trizza down. If we’re supposed to care about him, Jude/Roxy are very likely going to shove him in the right direction. Maybe without his guns and in an alien planet, he shows his true colors, scared, defenceless, with no one backing him up- And he learns to be a better person before going back to Alternia. I sure hope so.

Xefros Tritoh - Sweet cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too PURE. I fell in love the moment Joey started to talk with him, poor thing has been pretty much brainwashed. It puts in perspective just how shitty Rustbloods REALLY have it on Alternia, and makes me wonder if Aradia’s complacency comes from this too. Like... It’s not just that it’s her thing, she was ‘0kay’ with things, but rather just a... Grim outlook on not being able to do anything about her situation. “That’s fine. It’s how things are.” That being said, Joey came to the rescue quite unexpectedly, I didn’t think she’d lash out against Dammek like that and I’m VERY glad she did! I still think Dammek has a chance of redemption on Earth, but what he’s done to Xefros is intolerable, and I’ll be glad to see his confidence AND his psychic skills develop over time as he journeys with Joey through Alternia to bring down the Empress!

Doc Scratch - We have little information about him so far. There was the delivery to Xefros but that’s about it. That was incredibly creepy. Someone also mentioned the Hint System sounded a bit like Scratch- But I’m not quite sure since I never clicked the ? Button, I might check it at a later date. For now, his involvement seems to be pretty tame, but if he’s pulling the strings behind Trizza, it’s been a nice little cameo so far.

Trizza Tethis - What a bitch. I love her. We didn’t see much about her, but we heard more about how awful she is, and got that one last image at the end. “Wish you were here”, what a piece of shit. Who was she saying it to? The other members of the resistance perhaps?

Axolotl - We actually did get a little bit teased about that! The painting in the hallway had what, to me, looked like Aztec representations of the Grimalkin, the Sloth and the Axolotl, which is very interesting. Foreshadowing? Or perhaps something more? There was also a weird tapestry in the Trophy Room I can’t quite remember, but it could be something really interesting to analyse at a later date.

Biggest Fan - I’m assuming Xefros and Joey are going to see Cridea at the end of the game. Maybe? The only other option I can think of is the Rebel Marshall. I believe they said their biggest fan was a ‘she’, unless I’m thinking wrong, otherwise it could be Fiamet too! (Wait is Fiamet a guy? I actually think I just assumed he was a guy because the Axolotl from Animal Crossing is a guy. God dammit, it could really be anyone huh? What a mess). Whoever it is, given he mentioned it’s a ‘Fan’, I doubt it’ll be another Tetrarch.

Tetrarchs - The leaders of the Rebellion. Dammek was one of them. I wonder if Cridea or Fiamet are Tetrarchs too. Who knows, maybe the Canon Fantrolls are Tetrarchs! That would be an interesting plot twist wouldn’t it? I’m assuming Fiamet IS one, merely based on the fact he has the power of the Green Sun on his side. Too valuable and powerful of an asset to NOT be a leader.

Alternia - We’ve gotten a few glimpses at life in Alternia! Lo and behold, it just so happens that Hellworld is EVEN WORSE than I thought from the canon! Even with Trizza being excessive in her killings, it just feels like absolutely no one cares about Rustbloods and lives of the lower bloods can be taken for like, anything at all. Seems like there are contests that can change people’s lives however, like the music one Xefros and Dammek seemed to want to attend, that would either give them a life of ‘luxury’, or death. There was a comment on how it took SWEEPS for Scythian to deliver something to Rustbloods, which means that apparently you MUST register your caste on literally EVERYTHING online. Another interesting fact, aside from the Stickball sports which seems a mixture of Rugby, Quidditch and Pool, Xefros mentions Rustblood Dead Communion, and also Blueblood posh attitude and crushing strength, making it canon that, yeah, those kind of powers aren’t actually genetic oddities but are commonplace among castes! Of course comparing Aradia’s telekinesis with Xefros’, it’s obvious some Trolls may be better gifted than others, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some outright lack them. Still, interesting.

Jude - He’s still convinced that the figures are behind this, but something the previews and trailers didn’t mention is that he believes the figures are after the portal. In the same vein, on Alternia, the interviews said that Trizza wants to get her hands on the portal too, which after driving Joey and Xefros away is incredibly easy. Seems like the villains of both games are after this thing, whatever it is. I thought Jude would be nervous and shaky and scared, but NOPE, he’s fucking ready, he’s been ready all his life to take those things down, and I think that’s kind of impressive. Still a dork though.

Joey - Poor thing knows nothing about Alternia, and it’s hilarious to see how confused and grossed out she is through the game. I wonder if she’ll have to eat bugs at some point. I hope she has to eat bugs at some point. She’s so pure too. I like how at the end, Xefros blushed grabbing at her, but she just flashed a little, comfortable smile. I ship Xefros <> Joey already, and feel like, given how her orientation has been leaning so far with the paintings and statues in the Harley Household, she’s totally gonna fall in love with some blueblood lady. Watch her blush when Cridea enters the scene.

The Portal - God this fucking THING. Up in the attic I tried to see if I could see the God Tier’s symbol next to the portal, but it was too difficult. I think it was somewhat round? It might’ve been Mind? But I might’ve just imagined things too, who even knows. The portal itself though, I did NOT expect it to be artificial. It’s not just a structure someone found. Jude has Blueprints. And on Alternia, the more futuristic looking version is also built and has Blueprints. Xefros calls it a ‘weapon’ but he also obviously has no idea what it does, meaning Dammek likely has some more idea about it, just like Joey does. Did they build it? was it some attempt to contact both words? Can a built structure actually be a Juju? I have so, so many questions about that thing and I hope the game solves all of them eventually. But for now, there’s just not enough information to determine anything. It’s soooo weird.

Those are my thoughts on the lore the game added upon so far. We’ll see how things go as more things about Hiveswap and Act 2 start to pop up!

[redantsunderneath]

Bruce Springsteen: Born to Run (an autobiography)

This is going to be more exorcism than exegesis – this book is odd, and I can’t stop thinking about why. The review line here is that this recent Springsteen autobiography is worthwhile enough if you are somewhere north of a casual Springsteen fan but if you are looking for a single Springsteen historical document, you’d be better served with the Dave Marsh biographies.  Superfans will of course love it, the curious will find it entertaining if they wind up with a copy, and the odd people like me who are obsessives without being real superfans will, well, find it peculiar but involving.  

 Bona fides: I’m an obsessive in that I’ve listened to every Springsteen song, legally released or leaked, up to 2006-ish, have read many of related books, filtered through ephemera, had the concert experience numerous times at different stages of his carrier, and have intermittent year long bouts of compulsively listening/getting moved/thinking about the whole Springsteen enchilada.  What really attracted me to him as an artist was that, unlike chameleons such as (Bruce fan) Bowie who committed to one thing at a time, he seemed to carry a bunch of different influences simultaneously, the skills of which he was proficient in, and would combine and project them - the arena rawker, the street party leader, the acoustic poet, the rock and roll revivalist, the RnB review, the storyteller, the piano balladeer - often capturing several in the space of a song. He also had such great phenomenological and artist-as-story interest: I had seen this with Elvis, but this was more complicated and comprised the sum of on stage relationships, story content, song preoccupations, personal life leaks, and attitude towards fans coalescing into a legend of an avatar of the American working class and underclass, coming in with a bunch of buddies who together were a family, to redeem something in the American spirit, all on the shoulders of some incredible will and discipline.

 So why am I exiled like Moses, able to see the super fan promised land but never enter? First (and this is not restricted to Springsteen) I find the fan ethos offputting.  It combines a deification I loathe with a fake chumminess that makes me nauseated.  More importantly, though, I really don’t like much he has produced since Tunnel of Love marked his most significant career transition.  I note only one great song (“Terry’s Song”) written since the Chimes of Freedom EP which marked the end of the ToL tour, his first marriage, and the initial E Street Band run.  This includes a take it or leave it attitude towards current concerts on my part (the spark isn’t there for me) and wariness about where the Springsteen “story” has gone. One of the greatest things about him early on was the mastery of basically every corner of rock and roll, and his attempt to incorporate new elements and stay fresh are kind of embarrassing (I like Rage Against the Machine too, but the weak link there is Tom Morello’s guitar, and Springsteen hired him to “rejuvenate his sound”.  Ugh).

 So, why is it weird? I don’t read many autobiographies (only one I can remember finishing is No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish) so maybe it’s par for the course, but this isn’t a sculpted recounting of history but a chain of 80 or so “stories” like extended versions of the ones he would tell on stage, and are concerned more with internal rhythm than an external sense of pace or continuity.   There is a lot of backtracking where the reader needs to “match” events. This story approach extends to frequent use of his stage voice(s), where he will go into revival preacher or beat poet mode, do stream of consciousness riffs, and recount back and forth embellished dialogue (without quotes, but with interjections like ‘Marone!’) like he is arguing with himself.  The good news is you can truly hear his voice in the semi-poetic prose. The bad news is it doesn’t flow well, leaves strange things out, cuts back and forth, and the story seems incomplete.

 The best thing about the book is an authentic third angle on the Springsteen legend that I legit had never heard before.  The Springsteen myth is heavily curated by the Boss himself and has always painted a picture, as I noted above, of a rock’n’roll family bringing a fun redemption to the world. This had to be resolved with journalistic and tabloid information that challenged the story, but there was always a fan synthesis that incorporated the info and left the godhead intact.  My memory of rec.arts.music.springsteen (one such recounting was called “a good man,” gagh!) is that Juliana Philips was seen as “a mistake of exposure to big success” and “a vain actress,” and he soon realized that what he needed was a good Jersey girl (which resolves how the marriage never fit fan image of him and sands the edges off of the inconvenient timing of the affair). Springsteen’s recounting of this is a good example of the value of his non-filtered point of view.  He goes out of his way to demonstrate the small town authenticity of Phillips and describe her as wonderful and loving.  The problem was that he was impossible to get along with for anyone after a couple of years and his mishandling of the separation (not wanting the press to know while he began another relationship and got caught) is the biggest regret of his life (because of how it impacted his then-wife).

 This approach reveals him as a hard guy to know.  He describes himself as a narcissist and self-hater (cue Venn diagram of the overlap of narcissism and self-doubt being Art), and he tells story after story of the men in his life where he lengthily but gently drags them through the mud, then says “but we would die for each other and I love him.” These stories come off as whatever happens to passive aggressiveness after expensive therapy (and this book is therapy-speak rich), and often serves to make him look worse than outside data does (the Mike Appel story especially where Springsteen was utterly in the right and was maliciously kept from recording for several years, but here Springsteen does everything to make excuses for him, gives him a butload of credit, and still manages to come off a little petty, i.e. these stories tend to backfire).  He spends a lot of time recounting how he told the bandmembers that they just had to understand that he needed all the control and that he had all the power, so they needed to suck it up.

 The upbringing stuff is probably the best material and the most untrod ground. His family history is pretty compelling and I finally understand how his religious and ethnic background shaped his personality.  The sex stuff makes him look idiosyncratic and selfish: a monk sometimes, do anything that moves one year, but usually a serial monogamist with uncondoned cheating.   He comes off like a terrible boyfriend and worse husband (lots of lost weekend stuff), but this doesn’t really capture how odd the sex stuff is as much as that one passage about he and his dad went to Tijuana and he came back with the crabs.  He mentions prostitutes more times than he mentions groupies.  

 He picks several concerts to elevate to most important status that are not big ones in Springsteeen lore, but have some kind of multicultural underpinning.  To at least some extent, this is to craft a version of a guy who is in touch with human experience. He spends so much time on post Katrina, 9-11, and his hurt at the cops rejecting him after what he thought was the evenhanded “American Skin (41 Shots)” (the fact that he was surprised surprises me).  His talk about race and Clarence Clemons is fascinating – their relationship was molded on stage because he thought it was an important one to America both as an example and as an aesthetic statement.  They only knew each other in this context and rarely ever saw each other outside of stage and studio.  So their friendship, such as it was, was a Springsteen story performed into existence.  He is very conscious of (and calculated about) his cultural legacy.

 So much is left out, yet there are a lot of stories that are barely OK, but seem there specifically to mark time so that it’s not Born in the USA cut-to everybody starts dying (thinking of the horse riding stuff as an example). His discussion of his depression is very valuable, but asynchronously told and thus hard to follow.  The book is full of “aw shucks” enthusiasm, idiom, and showmanship, but is somehow unexpectedly unguarded about the inner workings of his mind. He comes off as someone driven and not comfortable in his own skin unless he is accomplishing something, but in a human, actually painful way, that I have only ever seen divulged by a celebrity once before (David Foster Wallace).  I had an idea of Springsteen as reasonably well adjusted, but after this if he commits suicide I would not be surprised.

 In the end, the book crystalizes in a new set for meanings of that old story of him ripping down the posters saying “the future of rock and roll” at the Hammersmith Odeon in London, 1975 – Springsteen is a control freak, most of all about what people think of him, crippled by self-doubt, with the constant need do something, anything, to reassert mastery over his art, his message, and his mind.  That this is at odds with the book’s willingness to go deep and spill stuff he would usually keep close and it is this tension (along with its storyteller-quilted nature) gives it its strange charge.  In the end, there is a grandiose humility that keeps it together and I’m glad I read it.