#it's so gritty and intense and this character is so broken and fighting so hard to be whole

[tabithatwo]

Can I ask why you don’t like this new season of yj? No hate or anything, I’m just genuinely curious

I’m so tired and probably won’t be very coherent but that’s okay there’s like six more of these in my asks if I want a second more thorough answer tomorrow lol but a lot of how I feel is in posts on my blog and I’ll just talk mostly 2x08 here. I’ve been hanging on tight until this episode but it has BROKEN me. Like I’m in mourning lol. To anyone who likes it I’m so happy for you I’m not coming for you at all.

But to me the main issue I’ve had is how they have constantly had opportunities to go DARK and SHOW the devolution but they played it very fucking safe (the makeup being the catalyst, Shauna’s birth being truly the safest option possible, like an episode of call the midwife except a fucked up dream happens, etc) and there was no actual build to the level of violence and depravity (or even RELIGION BUILDING) that the card draw sacrifice calls for. The ate Jackie because she was already dead and the wilderness slow cooked her, they were all mourning the baby last episode, they showed us Misty feeling potentially genuine remorse and guilt for Crystal? The “cult stuff” up until now has been mostly fucking dbt techniques and self harm. Yes the shauna lottie last episode was intense but we got absolutely zero follow up on it in any real characterization way for shauna this episode.

Then they kicked us out of the room when the decision was being made and I PROMISE people who think that was a shit move are largely not thinking they needed to explain the card game. It’s about showing your characters in pivotal huge moments. Yellowjackets is advertised and set up in s1 as a psychological horror. I want to see the characters GRAPPLE with things in a psychological horror. Seeing how they got from point a to point b isn’t about understanding the rules of their game, it’s about seeing developed characters reactions to crazy fucking shit.

Instead we get a jump straight into everyone drawing a card and the group deciding to kill one of their two hunters. Would some be on board with no questions asked? sure, but to ask the audience to believe that it just Makes Sense that they landed here after being very fucking relatively TAME all season until that one fight (I was so scared after that scene and no one reacting that this is the jump they were making, based on one moment alone and I was so sad to see it happen lol) is a big ask.

Now add on top of that the way they’re cutting us out of the actual character driven moments. That wasn’t psychological horror, that wasn’t delving into characters psyches like we’ve been promised. It was a thriller moment, change on a dime, maybe for shock value I guess. To me that interim would’ve been a very hard scene to write, a glimpse even of them deciding and reckoning with this belief and darkness in themselves. It’s a large group with a lot to juggle and big messy dynamics. And the easy way out of that is to just not show it at all.

People keep saying “they don’t have time to develop things this season because of side plots.” But they CHOSE to have those side plots in the first place. They’re filling shit in because they don’t WANT to get into the nitty gritty. We watched musical theater and cops and whatever the hell else and whatever. Fine. Sure. But it isn’t that those plots magically overtook some extra brilliant deep moments that they planned on showing with these characters to actually WITNESS their devolution, like s1 set us up to expect. They added them to fill empty space.

I GET that they become brutal. I GET that they devolve. I UNDERSTAND that from moment fucking one. The draw of the show to me is not watching them chase someone. We got that in the first scene. It’s seeing HOW they get there. What has to happen to get them to that place AND how does it impact each main character. Don’t just list the bad things for me. Show me their reasoning and their religion building and their arguing and their giving in. That’s what the real story is to me. Because we just saw them do their first ritual kill, but we didn’t see much more DEPTH to it, with these characters that we’ve now spent 18 episode getting to know, than the pilot already showed us.

1 am ramblings please forgive confusing turns of phrase or typos lol

[sammythankyou]

Shadows On Your Side - Part One

Shadows are on your side, as soon as the lights go down In the darkest place you can find, you belong to the hands of the night 

“Shadows On Your Side” by Duran Duran

Special thank you to @ms-mead for the gorgeous mood board! Thank you so much darling!

Summary: AU. Michael Langdon is a professional thief who steals supernatural artifacts. The reader is a dark witch on a quest to save the most important person in her life. When Michael steals something vital from her, she goes after him to get it back.

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild angst, eventual smut but not in this part 

A/N: This will probably be two parts, but I am not sure yet. 

Blowing out a deep breath, you finally relaxed a bit when the plane’s wheels touched down on the run way. You were a reasonably powerful witch, but that didn’t stop you from being a white knuckle flyer. Clutching your small leather bag in your hands, you waited impatiently to exit the plane. Inside was a small vial of oil from a plant that didn’t even exist anymore. It was the final ingredient you needed. 

Staring out of the small plane window, your thoughts drifted to your grandmother, feeling the familiar worry. Gran had raised you, was always there for you, no matter what. When your own mother rejected you, called you evil and unnatural, she took you in. After kids at school witnessed you healing a small bird with a broken wing, Gran was there with hugs and peppermint tea when they began their bullying. Barely out of high school, you had even been soundly rejected by Cordelia’s coven of narrow minded snobs. The bitch’s voice still rang in your head; the magic you possessed was too dark, too unpredictable. Spitting on the floor of their pretentious dining room, your grandmother had led you out in a sweep of colorful silk and silver and turquoise, never looking back. She was the only one who made you feel safe and accepted. Now it was your turn to be there for her. 

After repeated attempts to heal Gran yourself, you finally had to accept that your magic was not powerful enough to cure something this serious. It had taken months to track down a spell, dating back to ancient Babylonia, that was said to heal any illness. Exhaustive research, as well as the trusted spirits on your talking board, swore that the spell was effective. It took too much time, more money than you could afford and several favors from individuals of extremely questionable character, in order to gather the necessary ingredients. In the meantime, Gran’s health had continued to deteriorate. The doctors said she only had a few months left. But, the October new moon was just a few days away, and everything was finally in place. For the first time in nearly a year, there was a small bloom of hope in your heart.  

Well past midnight, you finally arrived back at the cozy bungalow you shared with your grandmother. After checking on her, snoring quietly in her bed, you continued to your own room. Entering your closet, you opened the small safe on the floor and deposited the vial from your bag inside before securely closing it again. The spell and ingredients sealed within were protected by both conventional and magical locks. 

Like usual, you then sat down tiredly at the desk and pulled out your talking board. It was the same as it had been the past few weeks. The spirits repeatedly mentioned a powerful, dangerous man, warning you over and over about him. Finally, one of them had produced a name. Michael Langdon. Everyone had heard of Michael Langdon, but the few reports of anyone actually seeing him were sketchy at best. Some believed he was a powerful warlock, others a demon. A few had actually said he was the Antichrist. You would be extremely careful, like you always were, but you had to focus on the healing spell for Gran right now. Plus, if Michael Langdon was real, what could he possibly want with you? Thanking the spirits respectfully for their information, you placed your talking board back on its shelf. Sighing in exhaustion, you collapsed onto the bed without even changing out of your clothes.

A breathtakingly beautiful man, dressed in a long black coat stood in the doorway. Long, golden hair fell in soft waves over his shoulders. As he stalked toward your bed, the smile gracing his full pink lips was pleasant, but there was darkness behind it. Paralyzed by his power, you struggled to scream, to even move, but it was useless. Panic raced through you as he hovered over your face, his icy blue eyes glowing in the darkness. Stroking a lock of hair off your face with long graceful fingers, he simply watched you for a moment. 

His perfect white teeth shown brightly as he spoke. “You have something I need,” he said softly.

Staring up at him mutely, you watched his pale blue eyes turn jet black. 

Bolting upright, you glanced wildly around the room. No one was there. You fell back against the pillows, feeling the way your heart was pounding. There was no doubt in your mind; Michael Langdon had just invaded your dream.

“You have something I need.”

A horrible thought entered your mind and you were out of bed and racing to your closet in seconds. 

The safe yawned open, empty of all the contents. 

“No, no, no! NO!” You cried out sinking you hands into your hair and pulling hard enough to hurt. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as you paced around room in agitation. Whipping back around to glare at the empty safe, something caught your eye. A long, blonde hair was caught along the top of the open door to the safe. Reaching out, you pinched it tightly between your finger and thumb. Grabbing your iPad, you took a chance and opened a map of California. Carefully, placing the silky hair on the map, you pulled the crystal on the black cord from around your neck. It swung in tightening circles, scrying for Michael Langdon’s location. 

He was nearby. Michael seemed to be heading in the direction of Santa Barbara. Grabbing your keys, bag and iPad, you raced out to your car intending to set a new land speed record in order to catch up to him. There was no way you were going to let this spell slip out of your hands so easily.  

Less than an hour later, Michael was entering a small, private air strip near the Santa Barbara airport. Struggling to remain calm, you pushed the gas pedal to the floor determined to intercept him.

Pulling up to the guard station, you used your significant power of concilium to make the man open the locked gate. 

In the distance you could see a small plane taxiing down a long strip of asphalt. You spied Michael talking with two other men, his golden hair bright against the darkness. His head turned in your direction, before you had even stopped the car. The image of his inky black eyes popped into your mind. Pushing down the cold fear that coiled in your belly, you slammed the car door shut and strode towards Michael, as the other men moved off quickly. 

“Give it back!” You demanded, staring up into his handsome, hateful face.

“Y/N. I’m impressed. You are a determined thing, aren’t you?” Michael said with a smile.

“Please! I need that spell. Please just give it back to me,” you pleaded, changing tactics. 

Indicating the small plane that was now in the air, Michael looked back at you with mock sympathy. “I’m afraid that is impossible.” 

Shifting your gaze from Michael’s gleaming blue eyes, to the quickly disappearing plane, you felt like you had been punched in the stomach. “Where is that plane going?” 

Michael looked at you quizzically, titling his head the slightest amount, not uttering a word. 

Wrapping your arms around your middle, you turned away before the tears began to fall. How were you going to tell Gran? 

“Wait!” Michael called out to you. 

Ignoring him, you quickened your pace, but your legs had another idea. You found yourself frozen in place by his magic, glaring up at him as he suddenly appeared in front of you.

“That spell was for your grandmother,” Michael stated. The smirk was gone from his face, replaced by concern. 

“Get out of my head Langdon!” You spat, even as the tears finally spilled down your face. What the hell did he care who the spell was for?

Feeling like a pinned insect as he studied you silently, you refused to meet his intense gaze. Slowly, Michael turned to walk away and then he was simply gone.

                                                          ***

Trying to relieve the gritty feeling under your eyelids, you dug the heels of your hands into them. Too little sleep and too many tears made you want to rip your eyeballs out of their sockets just to stop the stinging. After the debacle of the night before, you hadn’t even bothered to go home, opting instead to head into the small  shop your grandmother had owned for many years. Sullenly huddled over your coffee cup at the front counter, you heard the chimes on the door. 

Michael Langdon’s tall, imposing form filled the open space. 

Freezing for few seconds, you tried to find your voice. “What are you doing here?” You croaked out. 

The same pleasant smile he wore in your dream passed over his full lips as he entered the store. Strolling around the small space, like he was a normal customer, Michael trailed his elegant, ringed fingers over the spines of books, examined the jars of herbs and cases of jewelry and crystals before stopping directly in front you. 

Pale blue eyes traveled over your face. “You look tired, Y/N,” Michael said, ignoring your question. 

Feeling your emotions rising to the surface again, you swallowed hard. “You got what you wanted. Please just leave me alone,” you pleaded. 

Actual concern was painted all over Michael’s beautiful face. “I want to help your grandmother.” 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. 

The small smile was back on his stupid pink lips. “I can heal her.”

“Nothing can heal her except for the spell you stole from me!” You shouted, rising to your feet. “Now get the fuck out of my store!” 

Michael gazed back at you silently, completely unfazed by your outburst. 

Fighting the urge to claw his crystal blue eyes out, you glared up at him. “You’re serious?” You asked incredulously.

“I wouldn’t be wasting my time if I wasn’t,” Michael said. 

Skeptically, you took in his solemn expression. “And why would you help us?” 

“I’ll be at your home tomorrow night,” he said simply, leaving without another word. 

                                                          ***

“What time is he supposed to be here?” Gran asked.

“He didn’t say,” you answered as you helped settle her into the big comfortable chair in your small living room.

Her vivid green eyes pinned you. “What?” You asked. 

Shaking her head slowly, Gran paused. “His magic is dark. I can feel it,” she said. 

“So is mine,” you said, feeling a sting at her words. 

Placing both her hands on your face, Gran looked you in eye. “All magic is a combination of light and dark,” she said kindly. 

Smiling briefly at her, you leaned into her palm. “Is Michael a warlock?” You questioned. 

“No. He is much stronger than a warlock. Michael’s power is... vast,” Gran trailed off.”There could be consequences.”

Gran’s words stopped you. “Consequences?” You questioned. 

Holding her weathered hands out palms up, Gran nodded. 

“Well, if Michael really can heal you, then I will deal with the consequences,” you said seriously. 

Right on cue, there was a soft knock on the front door. Glancing back at Gran, you went to answer it.

Michael stood on the threshold dressed in an elegant black suit, long, golden hair cascading over his shoulders. His beauty was like nothing you had ever seen. 

“Good evening Y/N,” Michael said pleasantly, the small smile in place on his full lips. 

Gesturing inside, you stepped back so he could enter. “Come in,” you said. 

Crossing the room, hands clasped behind his back, Michael’s presence filled the small space. He knelt down next to Gran’s chair. 

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Michael said, holding out a graceful hand. 

Gran grasped it between both of hers. “Mr Langdon,” she said looking into his handsome face. 

“Please, call me Michael,” he answered. 

Watching the two of them, you could sense the silent communication taking place. 

Gran turned to meet your gaze, smiling reassuringly, before looking back at Michael.

Placing his large hand on her shoulder, Michael’s eyes closed, thick eyelashes fanned out against his cheekbones. Gran’s head dropped forward slowly, chin resting against her chest, as you looked on in concern. Michael’s brows knit together in concentration and then the lights all over the house were flickering violently. Suddenly, Gran’s head snapped up, eyes wide, staring at Michael in amazement. His sparkling blue eyes opened and he was looking back at her, a dazzling smile passing over his face.  

Politely refusing Gran’s offer of tea, Michael made his way to the front door. Following behind him, you searched for a way to express your gratitude. 

“Wait,” you began, as Michael turned to face you, his angelic features lit softly by the porch light. “Thank you.”

He smiled at you silently, causing a funny little flip in your stomach. 

“Why did you help us?” You asked.

“I lost someone. Someone very dear to me. The same thing didn’t need to happen to you,” he answered. 

Reaching out, he gently stroked the back of his hand down your cheek. And then he was gone. 

Within days, everything had returned to normal. Gran was back to her vivacious self and planning a Samhain celebration with her many friends. Business had been particularly good, as it usually was during October. 

Michael had given you your life back.

Constantly, you found your thoughts straying back to his crystal blue eyes and full pink lips, before you mentally slapped yourself.

Closing up the shop the next evening, you were looking forward to getting home, when there was movement in your peripheral vision.

Before you had a second to react, two large men in black suits blocked you in against the door.  A dark hood was yanked over your head. Struggling against them was useless, your magic was even useless, but you fought with every ounce of strength you possessed. Suddenly, a sharp pain bloomed on the back of your head.

As the darkness descended, you instinctively called out to Michael Langdon for help. 

Tagging...

@venusxxlangdon @lovelylangdonx @sojournmichael @allyadarth @langdons-rep @queencocoakimmie @kaigitana @uinen-ulmiel @sunshinemycat @langdvnshepherd @elena-75s-blog @bbyduncan @rocketgirl2410 @depressedbitch43 @flowing-imagination @witchbloodsworld @napping-is-my-favorite @langdondelrey @lennonlemon @itsnomystery @winxfred @soomishuwu @i-monky @thedeviltohisangel @frogmuttforever @manahime193 @deeppaperbatapricot @kleineshaeschen @bookobsssesed99 @wheredoiwhaaat25 @drama-penguins @dramapenguinthe3rd @divinelangdon @moltenskeleton @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @ms-mead @divinelangdon @softlangdon @dyns33 @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @nightsblackroses @omgsuperstarg @whope123 @urmomgayforlettuce @micheallangdons @evil-motherfuckerlangdon @langdonsinferno

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[skyplayer37]

Worm Liveblog: 11.01 - 11.h

Dear god is there a lot to unpack here. I think this is my longest blog yet, which must mean I’m really liking Worm. And I assure you I very much am, since I refuse to let myself read on before I write up the liveblog and I really want to read on

So the regular part of the arc was.... wait what was it again? There was so much good interlude that I forgot, lets keep my phone on over here so I can reference what even happened.... Oh right, the Mall.

So, things have quickly taken a turn into Mad Max territory, showing a community built on the classic post-apocalyptic ruleset of only the strongest surviving. All the standard behavior of turning a large public area, like a shopping mall, into it’s own small town, with burning barrels and loud music and cars modified to have weapons and armor welded to them. This one however is contrasted by its leader, a group of, as depicted in my mind, weirdos in bright skin-tight suits. I would have said that the overall mood of the arc is oddly gritty for Worm, wherein previously teenagers robbed a bank and video-game themed villains were shouting one liners, but with Leviathan’s damage and Shadow Stalker’s almost-fake-suicide, and ESPECIALLY with the 11.x interludes, this whole Titanic has careened into an iceberg, where the iceberg is “psychological horror” and Rose is a representation of the story’s innocence and Jack.. loves knives? And the ship itself is uhhhhhh Bitch/Taylor (Bugbites).

ANYWAY, Taylor’s story has certainly gotten more interesting, watching her embrace her villain side by taking over a large portion of the city while still trying to spin it in a good way to appease her morals. She’s slowly gotten a crew together of non-capes who can later be redshirts or potential Trigger Event fodder. And that dude with the scar she let die is totally coming back to haunt her, maybe with powers or as a ghostly apparition of some cape who can cause hallucinations. Every good superhero story needs the fear dude to act as literal insight into the protag’s self-loathing (see: Scarecrow).

My only problem with this arc is about Labyrinth's power being really hard to picture in my mind, but uhhhh I guess that’s the point. 

----------------------

And then let’s take each Interlude by itself because they deserve it:

- 11.a: Bitch being chosen by Siberian for the Nine is... an interesting choice. It makes sense given her connection to animals, but Bitch doesn’t seem as powerful as the others to me. But, as Siberian points out, thats probably because she only uses domesticated dogs. I’m excited to see how powerful a Wolf can get with her powers, probably backfiring and taking down Siberian? And yet, Bitch seems the most likely of the bunch to join the Nine because she wants to.

- 11.b: Another very, very intense seen. Writing wise. Plot wise? I called out that it was just Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 2 Battle Tendency the moment the kid said he wanted to be a hero someday. But again, really well written. I doubt that this plot line would go un-resolved, so its also now really likely that Jack won’t get killed for two years, which makes me think that the purpose of this arc isn’t actually taking down the Nine one at a time, but instead entirely on who the Ninth member will be and they’ll fight much further down the line. Unless....it could  be..... no no, impossible.

- 11.c: Oh boy, more Labyrinth fun. Nice to see a bit of backstory about the ward she was kept in alongside Burnside, and her powers read a lot better from her point of view, but I’ll admit the.. Travelers? Is that which group this was? Man, there’s so many now. That might be Coil’s group, its hard to remember them all. Anyway, this is probably the group I’m least interested in, despite liking the individual heroes and the case 53 storyline, I’m sure I’ll warm up to them when it finally comes time to tackle that plotline. (I’m guessing it’s gonna be: “Ninth Recruitment” => “Case 53″ => “Slaughterhouse Nine Fight” => “Endbringer stuff”)..unless...nah

- 11.d: Now THIS was a good one. Armsmaster has finally advanced past his one-note character of being the Captain Hammer type and combined with Dragon’s story to get some real dynamics going on. And Mannequin? One of the coolest Tinkers yet. Genuinely creepy. Is Armsmaster still missing an arm? I’m mean, obviously not NOW that he’s got more robo-parts than anything, but it was kinda vague if he did during the confrontation. Either way, him learning about Dragon being an AI the same time that he become more machine than man is a good parallel.  

- 11.e: Hookwolf is another one of those capes that I really like but have trouble picturing in my mind. Too many small moving parts to capture for long. But this arc was really good, with some gruesome deaths with the glass powers from Shatterbird. I’m also quite interested in Cricket’s reluctance to have herself healed, which seems to be a pretty common theme in Worm and adjacent media.

- 11.f: Dilah’s pov...oof man this one was rough. I especially love the powers involving time-manipulation or future-sight, so this was a fun interlude, its just.. really heavy. And Noelle? She’s... beyond important. Both the Nine and the Endbringers were after her. She’s kept locked up underground in a vault, in a dark room that smells of meat. She’s like... an SCP. With the power of..... Vore maybe?

-11.g: A good fun one with a girl who has the power to make anyone kill themself without even needing to be near them. Regent has quickly become one of my favorite characters, with his sister instantly heading for one of my top-tier slots right off that bat. She’s just so spunky. I highly doubt her cocky attitude will actually get her in control of all of the Nine, but she is one of the most powerful capes yet.

-11.h: So. Bonesaw. Yeah. Scariest little girl ever? Some kind of fucked up Tinker that chops people up and sews them together into Tim Burton-esque monsters. While Jack is the brains of the operations, its sounded like all the rest of the Nine are more scared of her than anyone. And Amy confessing her love for her sister Victoria? Exactly the kind of fucked-up LGBT representation I would write. Using her powers to instantly make Victoria reciprocate those feelings? Beyond fucked. And I love it.

Let’s see if I can get this right:

Crawler: Buried Girl - Noelle

Mannequin: Arrogant Geek - Armsmaster

Sibarian: Dog Lover - Bitch

Shatterbird: Warlord - Hookwolf

Burnscar: Scaredy Cat - Labyrinth 

Jack: Broken Assassin - Not Shown Maybe.... Shadow Stalker?

Bonesaw: Crusader - Panacea 

Who I think will join the Nine:

Equal chance for Bitch or Panacea.

The one that sounds right but I’m afraid to say?

Taylor.

[fireandgloryrpg]

Congratulations Mel and welcome! We’re so happy to accept your application to play Eleanor “Ella” Karavadra with the faceclaim of Naomi Scott in Fire & Glory RPG! We can’t wait to begin roleplaying with you so please remember to look over our checklist!

Out of Character Information:

Name: Mel

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 20. August 11th

Timezone: gmt+1 (well gmt+2 now but on sunday it’ll be gmt+1)

Activity: It varies a bit to be honest due to school and work. If I have a really busy week I may only be on to do replies 2 days that entire week, but if I’m not busy at all you’ll find me lurking around 24/7 and probably doing replies everyday/every other day depending on muse and just overall energy levels. Also if I am extremely busy a while I’ll let you guys know and ask for a short hiatus/semi-hiatus if you’re cool with that.

Original Character Application:

Name: Eleanor ”Ella” Karavadra

Age and birthday: 22. April 10th.

Faceclaim: Naomi Scott ( backup Alia Bhatt)

Heritage: Daughter of Victoria, legacy of Nox

Abilities:

As her mother is the goddess of victory, Eleanor has a special affinity for competitive sports as well as fighting.

Another gift she inherited from her mother is the ability to (slightly) alter the ocurrences of competitions and battles so as to make sure she’s on the winning side. She also tends to win when it’s something that relies on luck (unless it’s against a child of Fortuna of course)

Due to her relation to Nox, goddess of the night, Eleanor can see almost as well at night as she can during the day: given that there is at least some source of light, whether it be the moon, a fireplace or a lone streetlight.

Eleanor also has a higher level of strength and agility compared to the average demigod. This is due to her long line of godly heritage, making her blood consist of more godly blood than other demigods.

Affiliation: First cohort, Member of the Cult of Romulus.  She was approached to join by the cult as they noticed her exceptional fighting skills and the anger that sometimes seethed out of the girl as she fought. And after passing their tests (with mostly flying colours) she was initiated. Her function in the cult is to make sure that everyone who’s a part of the cult have a good reputation with everyone else in New Rome, to make people like them. Just so if rumours of something dark going on (Gods forbid) would ever come out, they definitely wouldn’t be the first suspects. She also brushes over anyspeculations that ever even comes close to being on the trail of the cult. Pretty much just the one responsible for public relations.

Headcanons:

Despite being fiercely competitive, there are in fact a few things Eleanor does just for fun. Like dancing. She has been dancing since she was very young, but much to everyone’s bewilderment (and slight concern) she has never once asked to join a competition. And although she definitely has considered it and felt the urge to prove that she’s better than everyone else, she still hasn’t signed up for a single competition.

Due to having to many different areas where she can let go of pent up agression and frustration, Eleanor is a surprisingly pleasant person to be around. Unless she’s recently lost at something or received bad news, she’s in a good mood and is friendly to whoever she meets. Of course, some of this is just an act to make sure people think of her as the a bit spoilt, but otherwise sweet girl who is just a bit intense when it comes to competitions — and not ever even imagine her doing the gritty things she’s a part of in the Cult. A lot of it being things she’s picked up from her father: who works with international relations.

Biography:

Being aware of the fact that your mother is the Goddess of victory since the day you were born isn’t always a good thing; and combined with being born into one of the most prestigious and ambitious and oldest Roman families it most certainly leads to interesting results. That’s Eleanor Karavadra. From the moment she knew what the word winning meant, it became almost the only thing of any value to her, apart from family, and there has never been much she wouldn’t do to achieve victory. Not that she really needed to do much, but there were occasions (especially before she was aware of her powers) that she manipulated a match or two when her team was losing when she was a child.

Growing up, Eleanor spent quite a lot of time at her uncle Jefferson’s house as her own father travelled a lot with work (being completely honest, the trips all over the world were more for network-building, but when you’re a Karavadra, that is a part of your job) and instead of entrusting his children to a nanny, Thomas sent them to his brother, knowing they would get their priorities in order. Spending so much of her childhood wih her cousins really only made Eleanor more competitive: her biggest personal defeat has and will always be being the second child of a third child. Where’s the possibility of inheriting the family line? Right, it’s nonexistent. So in order to compensate, she worked hard to outdo her brother and her cousins, even though she was several years their junior: and while she’s eternally bitter that all her hard work hasn’t gained her a leadership position yet, (while her cousins got it instead) she’ll also be eternally grateful that she had that extra drive to push her towards greatness. Besides, no one could ever know you or understand you the same way family does, and having such a large part of her family so close is something she definitely doesn’t regret.

Naturally enough, following her cousin’s footsteps, she joined the Legion at an appropriate age and was place in the First Cohort at Camp Jupiter. Really, it was First Cohort or nothing, even though she was never really unsure of whether or not she’d make it, she had a running-away plan at the ready just in case: the humiliation of yet another personal defeat would’ve been too much to handle on an everyday basis. Here, she dreamed to be Centurion herself one day, and she’s still waiting (bitterly) for that.

Life’s a competition, and so is school. Her own years in a mortal school were some of the most fun years of her life. In a way, it was where she could really flourish: where her cousins didn’t have an advantage over her, where they weren’t even present. And boy did she flourish, she quickly joined all the athletics clubs she could, and due to her years of extensive training and of course, competitive nature (and unfair demigod-advantages), she quickly became the best. With a high pony, a bright smile and a laugh that could melt ice, she easily made friends too. And no one would’ve thought that the girl they sat with in french has known how to fight with a sword since she was 11.

As a matter of fact, Eleanor was a bit disappointed to get back to her real life in New Rome and the first cohort. There was something so extraordinary about being number one, and there are days when she really misses that feeling: although she didn’t miss not being able to train whenever she wanted and being surrounded by mortals, who don’t really understand much. Although, when you think about it, are the greeks really any better? Eleanor didn’t see the difference, and as she got older, she channeled most of her frustration and anger towards the greeks, and her aim has become to help bring New Rome back to it’s glory days.

Para sample:

As she made her way to the Broken Egg, Ella was feeling rather great. Of course, she’d feel better after a good breakfast, but nevertheless, so far so good. And the rest of her day looked good too, there were no official things for her to do today, so naturally she’d made sure to fill it up as much as she could with training. Strolling down the cobbled streets of New Rome, she passed several people out for a run, and she couldn’t help think to herself what kind of masochists went running before breakfast? That’s just absolutely wild. Nevertheless, she smiled at everyone she passed, Greek or Roman. Ah, there it was, the inevitable first grey cloud of her day, the Greeks. Who did they even think they were just waltzing in here and settling in New Rome as if it’s theirs?! The entitled, idiotic — okay, a deep breath. Ella was determined to not get herself riled up this early in the day, it gives you wrinkles, and besides it’s more productive to just save it all up for training later, because Gods know she could use the extra energy for that session. Sure, some people thought that her training was a bit excessive — but when you want to be the best, that’s just what you have to do. Work.  There are no short-cuts in life, hard work and discipline will always be rewarded.

But as she stepped inside the Broken Egg, the young woman didn’t even have to concentrate to push the resentment to the back of her mind. As soon as the wonderful smells hit her nose and she heard the quiet, soft buzzing of voices chattering over breakfast, it just melted away.  Ordering her usual breakfast of two fried eggs — sunny side up, two pieces of toast with avocado, some fruit and a glass of orange juice Ella made her way to her usual spot next to the window, balancing the plates on her hands and arms as she zig-zagged between tables, her tongue sticking out in concentration, a bad habit she’d never gotten rid of. If she had a trophy for every time her father had told her to ’get that tongue back in her mouth where it belongs’ she’d have… well, she’d have almost twice as many trophies as she’s already got.  Finally managing to set everything down on the table, Ella dropped down on the chair, letting out a sigh as she looked around at everyone around her.  Taking a bite of her toast, closing her eyes for a second to just enjoy the first bite to its fullest, she turned around and smiled at the person at the table next to her, making sure to make the smile just a bit wider than absolutely necessary. ”You know those people who say they can���t eat early in the morning, or that they don’t like breakfast food? I have decided to kick them out of New Rome.” she said, clearly joking despite the seriousness in her deep, brown eyes. ”I mean, I just can’t have that kind of negativity in my life. They’re practically ruining breakfast, and I won’t stand by and watch as it happens.”

[graphicpolicy]

WARNING: SOME SPOILERS

The Few is a six-issue miniseries about a dystopian future where what was known as the United States has mostly disappeared, the majority of the country under control of a megastate called the Palace. Those that have not fallen underneath Palace control are called the Few. Civil conflict has broken out between the two factions, and loyal Palace soldier Edan Hale has been assigned the task of infiltrating the Few’s headquarters. Along the way, she unexpectedly saves a child and befriends brothers Peter and Davey, two members of the Few. They’re on their way to the headquarters, unknown to them that she is a spy. It’s not going all good for Edan. She is haunted by the ghost of her commanding officer, Ephram Charr. To make matters worse, the merciless militant Herrod and his army of Ragers are right behind them along with a squad of Palace soldiers. If the three factions intercept, there’s no telling what carnage will unfold.

In my review of the first issue, I criticized The Few for lacking story content. I now consider this unfair. The first cover showed protagonist Edan Hale running with a bundle on her shoulders. And what do you know? In the first major scene, she’s being chased. So, story content is shown, just not a whole lot. It’s probably better this way because showing too much content can give away the story entirely.

No, the ideal cover or poster is a clue to what happens in the story. #1’s cover did this superbly, and issue #2 continues this trend. Davey and the baby are shown with a bloodied figure behind them that looks like Solid Snake after a bad day. Turns out, he is a figure from Edan’s past, but more on that later.

The composition of the cover is exceptional, and the minimalist coloring sets the dystopian tone of the series. This issue has a variant cover as part of Image’s 25th anniversary, some of these covers being recreations of older ones. Recall that in my previous review, I said that The Few looked similar to another dystopian American sci-fi…

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I KNEW IT! I @#%!ING KNEW IT!

…Anyway.

Hayden Sherman continues to prove he is a master of negative space to create a bleak, death-like atmosphere, arguably even more so as some scenes of snow are blinding in their whiteness. Character designs still have legs that appear longer than upper bodies that have a squarish outline. These designs are not bothersome, in fact there is something rather odd and unique about them. The choices of clothing, a series of jackets and boots and military gear, fits the winter climate. There is a surprising amount of detail put into these and character faces which are highly expressive. However, the sketchiness of the inking can cloud the reader’s vision. It works for vehicles and buildings, and arguably gives character’s a gruffer look, but it can be a bit much.

It’s interesting that even though I call Sherman’s art minimalist, he has so much detail in certain areas. In fact, detail is the artistic highlight of this issue. Two locations are revealed: The Palace and the Few’s hidden headquarters. Both are introduced in two-page spreads and are breathtaking.

Only one section of the Palace is shown, a shopping center, but Sherman crams a maximal amount of detail. Streets are littered with pedestrians, each designed uniquely; walkways and skyscrapers have bolts and screws, metal supports and cracks, trash and stains speck here and there on concrete surfaces. Neon lights dimly glow, steam from manholes perspiring against their bulbs. The Palace in its gritty metropolitan splendor is brought to life. Sherman sticks to a minimalist color palette of brown, green, white, and black, yet somehow makes all the detail more intense.

The Few’s headquarters is equally detailed but with a different aesthetic. It looks more like an underwater city, shadowed metal structures only visible by the intense yellow glow of lights. It’s an eerie appearance, one that hints at conspiracy and danger.

If minimalism brings out the best in Sherman’s natural settings, then maximalism does just as much for the urban.

For issue #2, Sean Lewis expands the mythology of The Few, particularly the three main factions: The Palace, The Few, and Herrod and his Ragers.* Each faction is complex. All are guilty of deplorable actions and fostering a climate that makes these actions permissible.

Edan monologues explaining the backstory of how the Palace came to be. It suggests there was a second civil war over resources, and the Palace managed to take control by obtaining the majority. These actions caused massive suffering, but as Edan’s father told her, “it was necessary.”

This word, “necessary”, is particularly unnerving. The Few is socially relevant given that many of its themes on civil conflict touch upon modern America. “Necessary” is another layer to this social commentary. In just three months, President Trump and his cabinet have passed borderline if not full-on fascist immigration policies, attacked and banned media outlets, and are in the process of butchering the Affordable Care Act, not to mention unraveling protections for transgender school students and other minorities. It is all deemed necessary to make America great again, and stubborn loyalists tell dissenters to obey (a massive hypocrisy given they did everything in their power to attempt at crippling Obama).

“Necessary” is a dangerous word. It gives an excuse for actions, no matter how horrible, even if they have devastating consequences. The Palace’s necessary actions created The Few and Herrod. Both parties actions against the Palace appears justified, but are just as brutal. The Few are so paranoid, they will even search and imprison their own for interrogation; they might even employ terrorist tactics. Herrod is a butcher, killing anyone, even women and children, he deems deserving. He will do anything for revenge on the Palace. Human lives do not matter to him.

It is hard to tell which side is worse, or even who the reader should be cheering for. The danger of necessity and conflict’s moral complexity are deeply explored and interwoven, allowing Sean Lewis to develop them naturally.

These two themes become parts to another essential theme in issue #2: the past coming back to haunt the present. Ephram Charr, Edan’s commanding officer, appears to her several times, even though he is not really there. Is he a ghost? A manifestation of guilt? Whatever the case, Charr drops hints that Edan is also willing to do whatever is necessary no matter what.

This is not the only scene where Edan’s moral is highly questionable. In a flashback, she is chasing down a teenage terrorist spray painting targets for smart bombs. The art for this scene is fantastic, Hayden Sherman using thick lines and frantic color splatter to capture the speed and intensity of the chase. Particularly interesting is the coloring of the terrorist as pastel red. It’s a unique choice for blood and scenes of violence over the traditional dark red, one that fits the art style perfectly. By the end of the chase, Edan makes a decision that while justified is still questionable given the perpetrator’s age.

There is no clear cut good and evil in The Few. Everyone has justification for their actions while still being deplorable most of the time. There are characters that even recognize the complexity of the conflict, such as newly introduced Captain Jariks. She is a loyal soldier of the Palace, but when she learns of Herrod’s origins, why he hates them so much, she can’t help but understand him and feel frustrated her side created the monster in the first place.

While I stated earlier that necessity is a dangerous excuse for heinous actions, what if the world gets to the point where all sides of a conflict are forced to and even justified as such? In a bleak world of survive or die, with no chance of reverting the mistakes of the past, maybe heartlessness is the new normal.

The Few #2 is an excellent follow-up to the series’ promising start. It expands on characters, world-building, and themes while delivering even more top notch art. There is no telling what will happen in the next issue, but it’s no doubt going to be epic. Go out and get this book now.

*I wrote in my first review that the Ragers were fighting for a mysterious man named Herrod. I was completely wrong. The crazy old guy leading them is Herrod. My bad.

Story: Sean Lewis Art: Hayden Sherman Story: 10 Art: 10 Overall: 10 Recommendation: Buy

Image Comics provided Graphic Policy with a FREE copy for review

The Few #2 is an excellent follow-up to the series’ promising start #comics WARNING: SOME SPOILERS The Few is a six-issue miniseries about a dystopian future where what was known as the United States has mostly disappeared, the majority of the country under control of a megastate called the Palace.