#just thought I’d put it out there Griff is NOT mine!

[mysticcomfort]

Day 7+8= Griff does what Griff wants

[5bi5]

We have known about the vampires in this town for a long time now.

Our whole way of living is sort of built around it, actually. The whole water supply is holy water – the water in our taps, in our pools, in our fire hydrants. I've always thought if I had to kill a vampire I'd want to do it with a fire hydrant. You have to think about these things, you know. They teach you in school: wear a cross, carry a stake, hang garlic over your door. Never invite someone into your home unless you are certain you can trust them. And for God's sake, don't go walking alone after dark without some kind of weapon handy.

Things happen, of course. Things are always happening. People will just quietly disappear – most of the time the bodies are never recovered – and although it can't technically be said for certain just what happened, everyone knows. And then they talk. In hushed voices, in places where the family of the deceased – sorry, the "missing, presumed dead" – can't hear them, they talk. She must have done something wrong, they whisper. If she had just worn a cross like she was supposed to, if she had just stayed inside after dark, this would never have happened. Stupid girl – this was always bound to happen to her.

We all grew up watching those same vampire movies as everyone else. Dracula, Nosferatu, even Twilight. Let me tell you something: vampires don't sparkle. There is no sure way to identify a vampire until it's too late. Until there's no time to reach for that stake that you always keep in your purse, that if you could just get to it, maybe you could save yourself, fuck, where is it, where is your purse – there's no time for that. You're already dead.

Although I grew up knowing about the vampires, constantly hearing warnings and rules and stories, I didn't see one (not knowingly, at least) until I was twenty. At this point, although I knew theoretically that I could be attacked on any given day and it was important to be prepared, subconsciously I had begun to believe that it was never going to happen to me. I'd never so much as glimpsed a vampire in two decades, and everyone just droned about them constantly. Surely, if it were going to happen, it would have happened by now.

So, as I cooked a romantic dinner for myself and my boyfriend of three months, the threat of vampires seemed as distant as the possibility of an anvil falling out of the sky and crushing me to death. I was gearing myself up to tell him I loved him for the first time; I was not a romantic person by nature, but things had been going really well so far, so I wanted to make an effort. That effort also included making coq au vin and, in the interest of staying as kissable as possible, omitting the two cloves of garlic which the recipe called for.

That particular evening was one of the darkest and rainiest I had seen in some time, so when my boyfriend showed up twenty minutes late and apologizing profusely, I just told him not to worry, and ushered him in out of the rain.

"Why don't you take a shower while I get dinner on the table?" I suggested. "I can give you a pair of sweatpants and a t shirt." I wasn't really sure my clothes would fit him, but he was soaking and shivering, and he took me up on my offer right away. At worst, I got to see him in a too-tight shirt, right?

I gave him the biggest t shirt and sweatpants I owned, and I set about pouring wine and dishing up soup. In the interest of both warmth and atmosphere, I dug out just about every candle I owned – which, to be fair, was only a handful – and set them on the coffee table, where we could admire them without the smell mingling with the scent of the food. By the time everything was ready, he was back, wearing my sweats and shirt. They fit him better than I would have guessed, but he was still clearly uncomfortable, frowning and tugging at the shirt hem to stop it from riding up. It wasn't exactly the start I had pictured to our perfect romantic night, but hey, if something had to go wrong, this didn't seem so bad, right?

"You look cute." I said, grabbing his hand away from his hem and squeezing it in both of mine. "Come on, Griff, let's just have some dinner."

Griff gave me what might have been a forced smile, and sat down. "Thanks for making this."

"Happy to." I smiled back and took my seat across from him. I decided to wait until his mood improved a little before I sprang the whole "I love you" thing on him. I didn't want to freak him out.

We ate mostly in silence, and I regretted not thinking of a romantic soundtrack to put on. By the time we finished, I was desperate for some kind of noise – or just something to take the sullen expression off of Griff's face – so I suggested we watch a movie. We settled on The Hangover; again, not exactly how I had hoped the evening would go, but whatever made Griff happy.

It didn't take long for his attention to wander away from watching the movie and towards kissing me, which was all fine as far as I was concerned. Good thing I'd left out that garlic, right? I closed my eyes and leaned into the kiss, trying to parse whether this was the right moment to tell him. Before I could decide, however, he suddenly sprang away from me with a gasp.

When I opened my eyes, it was obvious what had happened, but my brain refused to register it. That burn mark in the shape of a cross had been there before I leaned towards him, hadn't it? It wasn't from my cross, the one I always wore around my neck, was it? It wasn't from any cross, of course not, my eyes were playing tricks on me.

I wish I hadn't wasted precious seconds processing all of this. Maybe I could have done something, said something, at least moved, before he was tearing the cross off of my neck with another pained yelp and leaning back over me. The jig was up now, and it was clear that unlike me, he wasn't wasting any time.

I wish also that I could say I survived through some great, heroic moment, but that's not what happened. I just sat there, shellshocked, until his mouth reached my neck and he began to bite – and then my body seemed to act of its own volition, thrusting him away from me with both hands. This caught him off guard, and he fell backwards, landing directly on top of every candle I owned. His shirt – my shirt – caught fire, and he dashed out the door into the rain.

At the very least, I can say that I made the conscious decision to lock the door, and then barricade it with a table. That's about all I managed to do before collapsing on the couch, back into the same spot I had been just minutes beforehand, and burst into tears. I didn't even bother trying to stop the blood leeching from my neck; I just cried until at some point I eventually fell asleep.

They taught us so much about preventing vampire attacks that it never even occurred to me before that moment that I had never been taught what to do if one did take place. Maybe it was assumed that if you got attacked by a vampire, you weren't surviving. Still, that seemed to nullify the point of carrying stakes and wearing crosses and blessing the water and whatnot. Maybe it was because everyone in this town seemed to believe that if you got attacked by a vampire, it was your fault – if you were smart, you wouldn't be out after dark in the first place, now would you?

Except I wasn't out after dark. I was wearing a cross. I survived. And now I had to continue surviving with no idea how to proceed. I couldn't ask anyone, either – even if they didn't lecture me to my face, surely they would whisper about me behind my back. Stupid girl, didn't even realize her own boyfriend was a vampire. What was she doing, inviting him into the house, when he clearly wasn't trustworthy? She should have known better.

For days, I stayed in my apartment, afraid to go out. I showered, with holy water, of course – except, weeks later, it dawned on me that Griff should have been hurt by the holy water. So, what was the truth? Was holy water not really an effective weapon against vampires, as we had always been taught, or was the water we had always been told was holy not really holy at all?

I did the best to cover the wound on my neck with makeup and collared shirts. There was no one there to see it, but I couldn't bear to look at it, and when it wasn't covered, I couldn't stop. I'd just stand in front of the mirror and stare at my neck, thinking of everything I should have done differently. Still, I was alive, wasn't I?

Wasn't I?

The first time I went out, it was to gather supplies: more stakes, more crosses, more garlic. Matches, bottles, spirits, and rags. Knives, too, although I didn't know if they would help or not. I wasn't really sure what I knew anymore.

The second time I went out, it was to hunt. No more being shocked, no more being attacked in my own home. I was taking the fight to them. After all, what was the point in trying to stay somewhere safe if nowhere was safe? What was the point in following the rules if they weren't going to protect me?

The vampires in this town have known about us for a long time now. What started as a solo effort has now grown into a small movement, which I'm proud to say consists of several people whom I saved from vampires. People who, like me, had no instructions on how to proceed – except for the ones that I gave them.

Of course, they've had time to prepare now. They protect their hearts more carefully, they don't reveal that they're vampires until they're alone with a victim, they even carry what I assume is non-holy water to put out any fires we might start. Often, our efforts feel futile; sometimes I'll go hunting several times and not come across anyone I can say for certain is a vampire. It's hard to know for sure if I'm making the right call. Sometimes it feels as if I am making no difference at all, as if I am still sitting on the couch doing nothing.

Still, things happen.

[spectraspecs-writes]

Tatooine - Chapter 80 (Bastila)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 79. Chapter 81.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

——————

We have to spend the night on Tatooine, because when we get there it’s pretty late. The Czerka office is closed, the only thing open is the cantina. I saw Carth and Canderous head off in that direction. I told Carth I’d lock the ship down for the night. I know how to do that, at least, even if I can’t actually fly the thing.

I closed the engine vents almost as soon as we landed. I don’t want to be grounded here for an hour trying to clean them like last time. I want to get Griff the tach glands and go. No idea which planet I want to go to next. Manaan or Korriban. I don’t really know anything about either planet. I’d been on Tatooine before - not for long, but I’d been. And everyone’s heard of Wookiees and knows they’re from Kashyyyk. But Korriban is in the opposite direction from the planets I did my scouting on, and Manaan’s closer to the core than I’ve ever been. (I know, it’s hard to believe I never went to Coruscant. I never needed to. It wouldn’t have been cost effective to the Republic to bring us in that far just to send us back out to the Outer Rim. No, our orders got transmitted.) I don’t know much about either planet. If I didn’t know about the Star Maps, I wouldn’t know anything about them.

I reach into my back pocket for my datapad - maybe there’s some information in there that I didn’t pay attention to - and I find a second datapad. There’s mine, which all things considered is in pretty good shape. And the other, which has moss growing on it, a cracked screen - I forgot I’d picked it up on Kashyyyk when we fought the Great Beast. This, a circlet, and a lightsaber. Right.

Well, I’m not doing anything right now, and it’s too early to go to bed. So I curl up in the engine room. Might as well read it.

It’s a personal journal, belonging to one Guun Han Saresh. It goes back a long time, at least twenty years before the final entry. From what I read, I know Guun Han was a prideful man. Which isn’t surprising, because there’s a number of references to his wealthy Tarisian family. Even Jedi training can’t quell the ego of little rich kids, it would seem. His father commissioned the circlet for him. It has benefits, so says Guun Han, but no Dark Jedi could ever take advantage of those benefits. If nothing else, it’s cute, the circlet. Modest, but sort of fashionable? I mean, what would I know about fashion, I’m usually happily covered in dirt, but I think it’s cute. I’ll give it a shot when I face Malak. I think I’m a light side Jedi. I’m a nice person, if that means anything.

Guun Han’s journal also talks about the war with Exar Kun. Exar Kun was well before my time, I was just a kid when the war ended, it didn’t really concern me. But Guun Han was living it. He talks about friends and fellow Padawans leaving the Order, following Exar Kun to the Dark Side. Guun Han fought in the war, and helped to rebuild when it ended. The journal starts to get interesting when it talks about an animal called the terentatek. He doesn’t say much about what they are, or much of anything about them. Only that they killed Jedi and the Jedi set out to kill them in turn. I have no idea when they stopped or how many they killed when they sent Guun Han to look for more. 

Not just Guun Han, though. He mentions a bunch of times before the terentatek even comes up, his two best friends, Duran Qel-Droma and Shaela Nur. The Council sent the three of them off together, apparently on the grounds of their devotion to the light. Which didn’t do anything to help Guun Han’s ego.

But he also mentions a bond between the three of them, a lot like the bond Bastila and I have, I guess. He talks about knowing what the others thought, felt, dreamt about, and that they knew the same about him.

And from there it sort of… devolves. As the entries go on, Guun Han starts to sound angrier, and he’s a lot less verbose. He also starts to sound a tad paranoid. He acts like he was the leader of the group but I get the feeling Duran and Shaela felt differently. 

The last entry feels quite derailed and angry: “Duran and Shaela have given in to their passion for each other, and are doomed to fall to the dark side. I tried to warn them against expressing their love, but they called me arrogant and accused me - ME! - of being the one on the dark path. I left the fools on Korriban.” His first mistake. “But I am not about to abandon the mandate given me by the Jedi Council. I will destroy the terentatek wherever I find them. I have heard rumors such a beast may exist in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk.” Must be the Great Beast. “I shall go there and slay the beast, proving that I do not need either Duran or Shaela with me to defeat these creatures!” And his last mistake.

I don’t know anything about terentateks, but I know the one we apparently took out was not a one-person job. Guun Han was an idiot for thinking he could take one out on his own. But my thoughts keep drifting to Duran and Shaela. I don’t know why, I have only third-person information about them. Maybe I’m just getting anxious about the whole love thing. Who do I trust about this? Out of the four people I’ve talked to about it, three of them are very vehemently against Jedi love. Master Zhar wasn’t vocally vehement about it, but he tried to steer me away from it. Bastila’s… well, been Bastila about it. And Guun Han felt strongly enough about it to leave his friends behind. Jolee’s the only one who’s been cool about it. And I don’t know what his motivations are or where his views come from for sure. I just have hunches. I don’t think he would actively try to mislead me or hurt me, but I don’t know a whole hell of a lot about him. I don’t know. I just don’t know. I don’t like not knowing. And the first thing I want to know is more about these terentatek things. I just killed something that maybe wasn’t a natural predator, not if there’s also one on Korriban and they’re still the same animal.

“Rena?” Bastila comes in. I didn’t even hear her. “Are you all right?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah,” I say, “Just got a lot going on in my head. I’m okay.”

She looks sideways at Guun Han’s datapad. “What are you reading?”

I put it away. “Nothing. Just a datapad I picked up.” She’s got a feeling coming off her, that wasn’t the only question she came in here with. “You’re curious about something?”

She sighs shortly. “Am I so transparent?” she says, coming further into the engine room. I stand up and lean against the engine. “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, considering our bond. Yes, there is something I would like to ask, if you'll permit it.”

“Yeah, sure, go for it,” I shrug.

“In our time together I've been watching you.” Oh, really, because I’m--? “No, not because I’m attracted to you, honestly, Rena, and I would prefer not to joke at the moment.” Okay, no problem. “You are a true servant of the light, you follow the tenets of the Jedi Order despite the lure of the Dark Side. And with so little training. For me it has always been a constant battle. Don't you find it difficult at all? You make it seem so easy. Or is that only an illusion?”

I shrug again. “I don’t know, I guess I don’t think about it much.”

“You don't?” she repeats, “Sometimes I find that it is nearly all I can think of. I have never found the Jedi training easy to master.” She sighs and leans on the wall. “I've always struggled for control over my passions. I've always been too quick to anger, too quick to get involved.” I can believe that. “My instructors constantly berated me for it. I've often dreamed that I might be able to confront Darth Malak myself. I dream I can use all this power I have to kill him and stop all the death and destruction. I just think about all the evil that the Sith have caused and I... I get so furious! Yet we are told that these feelings are the path to the Dark Side.”

“Well, we might disagree on the love thing, but we definitely agree there. Anger leads to hate, hate is definitely the Dark Side,” I say, “But, I don’t know, if that’s what it would take to take out Malak, then maybe it would be worth it. That kind of evil…”

“But what comes next?” she interrupts, “After using all that power, would you decide to impose your own view on the universe? The Dark Side corrupts your very thoughts! The very thought that I could become as evil as Malak… I just can't fathom it. It just doesn't seem possible! How could I…?” Then she stops. Completely changes her train of thought. “No, wait.” What? “I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be asking you this. The Jedi teachings are clear - who am I to question them? And even worse, who am I to try and make you question them?” She shakes her head and starts to leave. “These are dangerous thoughts, the indulgence of a vain mind.” She turns now to the entrance, before briefly turning back. “Please, forget I ever mentioned this. I’m sorry.” And she leaves.

Well, that was very confusing. Sounds like Bastila’s got her own demons in her head to deal with. Weird as it sounds it makes me think of Guun Han. He thought he could use all the power of the Force to take out the terentatek himself, and look where it got him. Dead on a world far from home. All that pride gone to waste. It just killed him.

[storyswept]

Sansa: Five Suitors For Her Claim and One For Love

I knew the Ashford Tourney had been linked to Sansa’s storyline and when reading the Dunk and Egg novellas myself, I couldn’t help but notice her common points with Rohanne Webber, known as the Red Widow.

When I started writing this post, I didn’t realise that norwaywolf123 had already adressed the Sansa Stark-Rohanne Webber connection on Westeros.org (link here). He thinks that Sansa might marry Jaime, which is certainly not outside the realm of possibility.

I have a different interpretation which expands on the Ashford theory, so I still decided to post this.

The Ashford Tourney Theory: A Recap

I’d like to give credit to nobodysuspectsthebutterfly and bluefoot3 (reddit) for noticing the parallel between the champions at the end of the first day and Sansa’s suitors in the books.

You can check out nobodysuspectsthebutterfly’s post here and bluefoot3′s here.

The Tourney is organised by Lord Ashford to celebrate the thirteenth birthday of his daughter, who is reigning Queen of Love and Beauty. Each of her defenders is wearing her favor, a wisp of orange silk knotted around their arm.

At the end of the first day, the champions are:

Lyonel Baratheon, Tybolt Lannister, after defeating Robert Ashford and Androw Ashford respectively (the brothers of the thirteen years old maid)

Leo Tyrell

Humfrey Hardyng, unable to continue after his tilt with Aerion Targaryen, whose lance targeted his horse in a display of bad sportmanship.

Prince Valarr Targaryen

Four of these champions share a family name with Sansa’s suitors, which raises the question: is a Targaryen going to be her next suitor?

The Tourney doesn’t proceed the next day. A trial of seven is organised instead, after Aerion attacks a group of puppeters for slaying a mummer’s dragon, and Duncan intervenes, striking the Prince.

Rohanne Webber and Sansa Stark’s Similarities

Both have red hair

Rohanne Webber’s red hair was bound up in a braid so long it brushed past her thighs, and she had a dimpled chin, a snub nose, and a light spray of freckles across her cheeks.

- The Sworn Sword

"Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.

- ACOK, Catelyn VII

They’re said to use poison or sorcery to kill husbands / betrothed

Dunk wanted no trouble with the Lady of the Coldmoat. At Standfast you heard ill things of her. The Red Widow, she was called, for the husbands she had put into the ground. Old Sam Stoops said she was a witch, a poisoner, and worse.

- The Sworn Sword

Assuming Joffrey had not simply choked to death on a bit of food, which even Tyrion found hard to swallow, Sansa must have poisoned him.

- ASOS, Tyrion IX

"What wife?"

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

That's stupid, Arya thought. Sansa only knows songs, not spells, and she'd never marry the Imp.

- ASOS, Arya XIII

One of their husbands / betrothed was said to have died by choking

My brother was [the third husband], Ser Simon Staunton, who had the great misfortune to choke upon a chicken bone.

- The Sworn Sword

The High Septon knelt beside him. "Father Above, judge our good King Joffrey justly," he intoned, beginning the prayer for the dead. Margaery Tyrell began to sob, and Tyrion heard her mother Lady Alerie saying, "He choked, sweetling. He choked on the pie. It was naught to do with you. He choked. We all saw."

- ASOS, Tyrion VIII

Suitors are more interested in her lands than her person

Cleyton Caswell and Simon Leygood have been the most persistent [suitors], though they seem more interested in her lands than in her person.

- The Sworn Sword

"His Grace the royal pustule has made Sansa's life a misery since the day her father died, and now that she is finally rid of Joffrey you propose to marry her to me. That seems singularly cruel. Even for you, Father."

"Why, do you plan to mistreat her?" His father sounded more curious than concerned. "The girl's happiness is not my purpose, nor should it be yours. Our alliances in the south may be as solid as Casterly Rock, but there remains the north to win, and the key to the north is Sansa Stark."

- ASOS, Tyrion III

They both disappear on a Lannister husband, (thought to be) a kinslayer

A genial man, known to be exceedingly clever, Gerold had served as regent for his young niece, but the suddenness of her death at such a tender age set tongues to wagging, and it was whispered widely in the west that both Lady Cerelle and Tybolt had died at his hands.

(...)

He ruled the westerlands for thirty-one years, earning the sobriquet Gerold the Golden. Yet the tragedies that befell House Lannister in the years that followed were proof enough for Lord Gerold's enemies. His beloved second wife, Lady Rohanne, vanished under mysterious circumstances in 230 AC, less than a year after giving birth to his lordship's fourth and youngest son, Jason.

- A World of Ice and Fire

Of course, Rohanne Webber also shares common points with other characters: Margaery and Cersei (Rohanne’s great-granddaughter) for example. She and Sansa also have their differences (last I checked, Sansa did not take up archery). Still, it’s interesting to see how much they have in common.

Sansa’s Fifth Suitor: Aegon Targaryen

If the Ashford theory is true, Sansa’s next suitor should bear the name Targaryen.

While it has been theorised that Sansa’s fifth suitor could be Jon (if R+L=J), I think it’s more likely that it is “Aegon Targaryen”.

Five reasons why:

1. The Name: Aegon Targaryen fits with the pattern previously etablished, Jon Snow does not.

While I think Jon will probably find out about his heritage at some point (it would be strange to hint at a character’s hidden heritage, if it doesn’t have any effect on the plot), I don’t believe Jon will start calling himself “Targaryen” unless he has to.

It’s not the name he always yearned for. Not to mention he might not be able to use it (depending on whether he’s legitimate or not).

2. Timing: at the end of ADWD, Aegon Targaryen arrives in Westeros. It’s mentioned in passing that a marriage alliance would be a good way to gain support in his quest for the Iron Throne.

"My lord does have one prize to offer," Haldon Halfmaester pointed out. "Prince Aegon's hand. A marriage alliance, to bring some great House to our banners."

- ADWD, The Griffin Reborn

If the Key to the North was to resurface, no doubt she would be thought of as an interesting prospect.

Meanwhile... Jon Snow still knows nothing about his origins. Nor has he a reason to wish for Sansa’s hand, who...

he thinks is his sister

he hasn’t seen since they left Winterfell

he could have taken Winterfell from, if he wished (I’m referring to Stannis’ offer)

Jon’s feelings towards Sansa could take a non-platonic turn in future books. Even so, it will take revelations and time for marriage to be considered. Time during which Aegon might have asked for Sansa’s hand.

3. The Mummer’s Dragon: during the tourney of Ashford, there’s not only a Targaryen champion, but a mummer’s dragon as well...

As he ate he watched a painted wooden knight battle a painted wooden dragon. The puppeteer who worked the dragon was good to watch too; a tall drink of water, with the olive skin and black hair of Dorne. She was slim as a lance with no breasts to speak of, but Dunk liked her face and the way her fingers made the dragon snap and slither at the end of its strings. He would have tossed the girl a copper if he’d had one to spare, but just now he needed every coin.

There were armorers amongst the merchants, as he had hoped. A Tyroshi with a forked blue beard was selling ornate helms, gorgeous fantastical things wrought in the shapes of birds and beasts and chased with gold and silver.

- The Hedge Knight

Several hints link this passage to Aegon:

Quaithe’s warning to Daenerys:

“The glass candles are burning. Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun’s son and the mummer’s dragon. Trust none of them. Remember the Undying. Beware the perfumed seneschal.”

- ADWD, Daenerys II

Aegon survived because of Varys, who used to be a mummer and has been plotting to put Aegon on the throne.

The Dornishwoman as slim as a lance. Elia Sand, who also calls herself Lady Lance, is travelling with Arianne (Dornish, but not known to be flat-chested) to meet with Aegon Targaryen.

Tyroshi blue: when posing as Young Griff, Aegon was dying his hair blue, supposedly in honor of his Tyroshi mother.

4. Rohanne Webber’s Fifth Husband: Eustace Osgrey fought for Daemon Blackfyre, the King who Bore the Sword.

Like Eustace Osgrey, Aegon’s family has suffered losses for being on the losing side. To regain what was lost, he needs a Spider’s help.

5. Aegon’s Link to Daemon Blackfyre: like Daemon before him, Aegon wishes to take another’s place on the Iron Throne and had set his sights on a Daenerys Targaryen. Daemon ended up marrying Rohanne of Tyrosh instead... whose namesake, Rohanne Webber, shares a lot of similarities with Sansa...

Additionally, Aegon shares some similarities with Valarr. He’s also a king’s grandson, with a Dornish mother. I didn’t cite this among my arguments because if R+L=J, Jon is also a king’s grandson and like Valarr, he takes after his mother in looks.

Sansa’s Sixth Suitor: Will Marry Her For Love?

Should we ever wed, you'll have to send Saffron back to her father. I'll be all the spice you'll want."

He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?"

"You may not. It is promised to...another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.

- TWOW, Alayne I

I believe that Sansa may have a sixth suitor, different from the previous ones, paralleling Rohanne Webber’s six husbands.

From AWOIAF, we know that Rohanne Webber’s last husband was Gerold Lannister. He was already mentioned as a possible suitor in “The Sworn Sword”, though he had yet to make an appearance.

Were I given to wagering, I should place my gold on Gerold Lannister. He has yet to put in an appearance, but they say he is golden-haired and quick of wit, and more than six feet tall …” “… and Lady Webber is much taken with his letters.” The lady in question stood in the doorway, beside a homely young maester with a great, hooked nose. “You would lose your wager, good-brother. Gerold will never willingly forsake the pleasures of Lannisport and the splendor of Casterly Rock for some little lordship. He has more influence as Lord Tybolt’s brother and advisor than he could ever hope for as my husband. (...)”

- The Sworn Sword

Rohanne didn’t believe Gerold would marry her, because he had nothing to gain from it.

Sansa doesn’t believe anyone will ever marry her for love.

It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love. 

- ASOS, Sansa VI

Well, maybe someone will...

[jaredfielding]

The style and performance of these scooters is surprising!

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[booksandwords]

The Making of Jonty Bloom by Barbara Elsborg

Series: Unfinished Business, #1 Read Time: 3 Days Rating: 4/5

The quote: “What’s going through your mind?” [...] “I’m wondering if you’re going to break my heart.” “If you don’t give me another chance, you’re going to break mine.” — Devan Smith & Jonty Bloom

Warnings: domestic/ family violence, rape, attempted murder, stalking

The Making of Jonty Bloom is a book that I'm been getting recommended to me by Goodreads and Amazon for a long while. After reading it I understand why. MM, men with a past and some darker elements. It's right up my street. I'd never read Barbara Elsborg, I like her style, she signposts her plot well you can see what is there if you want to guess but it's enjoyable if you don't. It's a beautiful story in a way, it hits hard though. There is some pretty dark content domestic/ family violence, rape, attempted murder, stalking. Most of the darker content is told in a matter of fact tone, with little emotion to drag the reader in, it's nowhere near as problematic as some books can be in its style. But you do need to be on its wavelength to enjoy it at least to start with. A lot of the character decisions aren't explained until the second half of the book. The ending does feel more than a little rushed. But some of that is because of the heavy ties to A Long Way Back.

Initially, both Jonty and Devan are more than a little off-putting for different reasons. Devan is understandably grumpy and bitter given he has just been essentially told by his boss leave and don't come back for a month after finding out his brother Griff is marrying Ravi is ex. Jonty is confusing. There is a lot going on he has sarcastic offbeat humour and comes across as unprofessional but you know he is hiding a lot. He is a master at fast talk though. As the story develops a lot of the reasons for both of their actions and just being are explained but in the first 4-5 chapters, it's hard. I quite liked them by the end, it just took perseverance. The supporting cast is largely minimal but used well. Brad is the antagonist. There is no possibility of redemption there. Or with the other antagonistic characters. They are mostly written to be black and white. Not entirely sure how to feel about that, especially with Rosie. That situation, in reality, should have been anything but black and white. As an aside Jonty's piercings are used to effect. I did not expect a writer to use them that well. But Barbara Elsborg surprised me.

There are some great formatting choices in this book. A bit of background first. For the entirety of The Making of Jonty Bloom one of the pivotal characters in the book, Tay Jonty's best friend, is in a coma. Jonty has full-blown conversations with him in his head. It's his way of processing, not just his missing Tay but all the other things that happen in his life. Jonty will just be having two conversations at once, one with a real person, one with Tay. This was formatted fairly simply using bold and italics. But it is effective once you pick up what is going on. It's a clever mechanic for the plot too, it tells the reader exactly how much Jonty knows subconsciously.

"Dead. Jonty sucked in a breath. You’re not. As good as. His heart felt like someone had reached into his chest and crushed it, kept crushing it. Say it. Shut up. I know what you’re thinking. No, you don’t. You like Devan Smith. You’re coming back to life, Jonty. I want you to be okay again. That can’t happen for me, but it can for you. It didn’t feel like it. I can’t stay with you forever. I know. Just be my friend for a bit longer."

Just a random thought collection • "People are upset for you, Dev. Your marriage slams to a halt and eight months later your brother is marrying your ex? Not hard for people to wonder and come to the right conclusion."  — I mean it's not hard. I wish we had seen more of Devan's family though. I like that we saw two that supported him • I cringed so hard when Aussie Mike appeared. My Australian ass does not handle Australians in fiction well. There is just something seriously bad about how we are written. All stereotypes. But Aussie Mike isn't too bad. • Flakes and sea glass are two things I never expected to pay such a major role in a novel like this. • “Oh God. What’s happening in the south? Have you run out of coffee? Toilet rolls? It can’t be the sea level rising or we’d be underwater. Zombie apocalypse?” — Oh in 2020/21 this is just too close to home. • Griff is a good character. I like his cerebral palsy not being an excuse for all things. His blindness to Ravi works well. • There is an act in here that while I don't think is physically impossible it is in the realm of high-level contortion. It's unlikely that the average man could ever do it. At least the author acknowledges it? • Jonty makes veiled references to locked in syndrome. That is possibly one of the most terrifying things.

Book 2 of Unfinished Business is A Long Way Back, Tay's story. I won't be reading it at this time. There are too many trigger warnings that raise red flags attached to it for my liking. Which are "bullying, death of a minor, violence, terrorism and drug addiction". Problematically, in my opinion, there are no trigger warnings on the blurb for The Making of Jonty Bloom and there is some dark stuff in here that probably needs it.

[realitys-vast-majority]

The Shadow Trail: Chapter 1

This is not the outcome I anticipated…

Somehow, through impossible odds, you all survived the process…

But this is not like before…

You may have fought through nightmares of your own creation…

Survived through a hell made by your actions…

But this is my world now…

This is where you will atone for your sins that you tried so hard to erase…

This city will be your grave, and I will be the one to bury you…

   I jumped awake, startled, breathing heavily with a cold sweat rolling down my neck. My heart was pounding faster than a piston as I tried to figure out where I was. I had hoped that I was somewhere familiar, but that slowly diminished as my surrounds showed no familiarity to me.

   I was in an alleyway. It was dimly lit by the flickering and buzzing light from the street lamp from the walkway above. The filth covered brick floor I was laying on was covered in shards of broken glass and blood. Whether the blood was mine or another’s was didn’t matter at the time, but it did leave me curious since I didn’t have any injuries at the time. The strong, repulsive stench of the garbage cans and trash that were tossed around was the first thing my senses picked up; making me nauseous along with my increased heart rate. I got up using the brick wall of the building as leverage, my hand covering a poster of a boxing match advertisement. “Where am I?” and “How did I get here?” were a few of the many questions racing through my mind as I continued to survey the area in a panic.

   That’s when I heard it for the first time. A soft mew from above broke the silence as well as my train of thought. I looked up toward the sound and saw a snow white cat looking down at me from a shattered window. Before I could make an inference, the faint sounds of music made me look to the streets at the end of the alley. When I looked back up, the cat had left the window and appeared in front of me on the spot I was laying on, startling me and almost making me fall back down. It began to walk slowly toward the streets and towards the music.

   Thousands of red flags were raised in my head at the time, and normally I would heed these warnings, but given the circumstances, and my curiosity, only one thing came to mind: Follow that cat.

     The streets were filled with abandoned cars and trucks, all laid out like if they had swerved out of control. The street lights and signs on each of the buildings gave the world around a rust colored tint, making the creepy atmosphere that much more unsettling. Some of the buildings’ windows were either broken or boarded up and, like the cars, were deserted. Yet when I walked down the streets of the abandoned city, an unnerving feeling rose. The feeling that I knew this area and that I was supposed to be here for some reason.

   During my observation of the streets, I noticed the cat walking into a building at the end of the road. The well designed sign above the entrance read The Scarlet Cabana in red neon lights, with musical notes underlining it. The music rose as I got closer to the building, allowing me to hear the jazz beat it had. I hummed along to it nervously in an attempt to calm my nerves from this entire situation as I entered the building.

   The light smell of alcohol was the first thing I noticed when I walked in, giving me a hint to what this place was. The entertainment lounge seemed to be unaffected by whatever caused the situation outside; it almost made me forget the condition the streets were in. The color scheme of the lounge was the same as the name sake, scarlet. From the mood lighting, to the tables, to the main stage and the bar, it was all in a red aesthetic. The stage was lit up by spotlights but no one was on stage to be focused on; no instruments or a microphone stand either, yet the music was still playing. I found the source of the music to come from a radio on the countertop of the bar on the far side of the lounge. I walked toward it, looking around for any signs of life, or even the white cat. I started turning the dials on the radio, trying to find a station or broadcast that may explain what exactly happened in this city. The static and distortion while searching for a station lasted for minutes with no success.

   “Come on…” I muttered under my breath.

   Then a vague voice started to emerge from the static. I hastily tried to get the signal, turning the nob back and forth, only to be stopped abruptly by the barrel of a gun firmly pressed against the back of my head.

     “Hands where I can see ‘em!” a stern voice from behind me ordered. Without hesitation, my hands left the radio and were raised high. ”Don’t do anything funny or I’ll splatter your brains across the counter!”

   “I-I’m not going to,” I said with my heart racing again. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

   “I need some answers and you seem to be the only one in this ghost town.”

   “So am I,” I responded, trying to look her way.

   There was silence for a moment. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything!?”

   “I know just as much as you at this point,” I said slowly putting my arms down.

   “God… dammit!” The gun was pulled away from my head and I turned around to see my interrogator.

   It was a woman, looking at least in her early twenties, with shoulder length hair and a snub nosed revolver in her hand. An untucked shirt, overhauls and an untied bow tie made her look like she should be making drinks for the lounge. Her stern and angry face made it look like she wasn’t a people person, but I was just relieved to see another person — even if she did threaten to shoot me.

   She put the gun back in the holster on her side, giving a look of irritation and disappointment. I didn’t know what to say that would reassure her or calm her down in anyway, so I stood silent to avoid any confrontation. My silence only made her confused.

   “Not going to ask anything?” she asked, arms crossed.

   “I’m sorry?” I questioned being more confused than her.

   “I was expecting you to ask questions. Especially since… y’know.”

I assumed she meant her threat to shoot me. ”You don’t look like you are in the mood to answer anything, just to find answers.”

“Well you got me there,” she sighed while looking to the side.

I felt the need to break the tension in the room. “I’m trying to find answers as well. Maybe we could help one another?”

“Maybe…” she said, turning to look at me. Her eyes began to look up and down my body. “What’s your name?”

“My name…” I stopped for a brief moment. This simple question had stumped me for a moment. I had to recall my own name longer than any other person should. It did come to me eventually, after I recalled my father calling out for me. “Gryphon. My name is Gryphon.”

“You don’t seem sure about that.”

“It has been a strange night to say the least,” I said with a subtle laugh.

“Tell me about it,” she responded with a slight smirk. “The name’s Amora.”

“A pleasure,” I gave a nod and extended my hand.

She shook my hand with a very firm grip. “So, Griff, why were you messing with that radio?”

“Oh!” Our encounter had made me forget what I was attempting to do. “That’s right, I was trying to get a signal for an emergency broadcast or a news briefing,” I turned back to the radio and continued to acquire the faint voice lost in the static, this time tinkering with the antenna on the back of it

“Sounds like you almost got it,” she said as she moved closer to the radio.

I knew a few things about electronics. I had fixed and dismantled many devices in my life; it became somewhat of a hobby of mine. I would go to the pawnshop with a fixed radio, television or circuit board that I gotten from junk yards or alleys ways and they would pay for the items. My father taught me how to fix engines as well; use to tell me that it was similar to what I already do. On top of fixing electronics, fixing vehicles was a talent that I used to make a profit from as well working alongside my father. I was a mechanic and a technician, all to help out my family, and I guess to help myself with adjusting radio frequencies.

   The radio became clearer and a voice started to emerge from the static. “-ry nine three two… Liberty four five zero…”

   “Did you tune in to the lottery? What the hell is this?” she said smacking the top of the radio.

   “Linen one one six… Tesla one zero five zero” it continued over her.

   I tried to think of what it meant by these names and numbers. “Are they a code?”

   “Marcy nine three two… Liberty four five zero…”

   “Great, cryptic codes from a radio in an abandoned city,” she said with sarcasm and hate. “Fan-freakin’-tastic.”

   “Linen one one six… Tesla-”

   “Is there a pen?” I asked “I would like to write this down.”

   “I doubt you’d find that out here,” she moved away “I’d try the dressing rooms backstage.”

   “There are dressing rooms here?”

   “There are always rooms for performers. Where did you think they get ready, the alley?”

I realized it was a ridiculous question and her response emphasized it. “R-Right…” I responded, looking down. “I’ll be back.” I got out of the seat and proceeded behind the main stage.

   “Don’t hurt yourself now.”

     The backstage walkway was dimly lit with only the exit sign being the brightest light there. I entered the first dressing room I came across, preparing myself for, by chance, another random encounter and turned on the light. The room had clothes scattered across the floor, the chair to the dresser tossed to the side and dried up flower petals and stems on the couch. The giant horizontal mirror above the couch reflected my dirty pale face and my rugged suit.

   Looking at myself brought up more questions: Why am I in my suit? Was I going somewhere important? How did I end up here? Why am I covered in filth? I shook my head trying to brush off the questions and proceeded to the dresser. I started looking for a pen, pencil, lipstick, eyeliner, anything that I could write with. Eventually, I found something in one of the drawers – something I wasn’t expecting – a pistol with initials “D.R” written on the handle. After a short debate with myself on whether I should take it with me or not, I put the pistol in the inside pocket of my blazer.

   Mew

   I turned around in panic, like if the sound was a whistle from behind. There, lying on the couch was the white cat from before staring at me, swaying its tail back and forth. I went toward the cat trying to reach for it, but as soon as I took a step, the cat jumped off the couch and walked to me. The cat circled around one of my legs, rubbing its head on me and purring softly. The cat seemed fond of me, even though I didn’t recall ever seeing it before that night. I crouched down slowly and petted its soft silk fur gently. Petting it calmed my nerves almost immediately, making me laugh lightly with a smile on my face. “Nice kitty,” I said while petting its head. “You must be a part of this somehow.”

   Mew

   “…I’ll take that as a yes.”

   The cat proceeded out the door and, like before, I followed it into the room next door. The room was the same as the other only with the mirror shattered, leaving shards on the floor instead of flower petals. The cat jumped onto the couch and started pawing at something lying on the cushion. It was a small brown leather covered book with a logo of four diamonds around a ring. The creases on its spine showed that the book was opened frequently. I opened it to the first page and noticed that it was a journal of sorts.

   Mew

   I looked towards the cat, then back to the book. “…I’ll read this later,” I said putting the book in my pocket. “I need a-”

   Mew

   The cat rolled a pen towards my feet. “…Good kitty.”

     I walked out of the backstage area and back to the show floor, fiddling with the pen in hand. I quickly glanced behind and noticed the cat wasn’t following me.

   “Hey,” Amora called out, pouring herself a drink from behind the bar. “You find anything?”

   “Y-Yes,” I replied. “I found a couple of things.”

   “Good. I was getting tired of hearing this noise.” The radio was still repeating its chant-like code.

   I took out the book and flipped through for a blank page.

   “I take it you found a pen,” she said taking a drink.

   “Yes. A cat helped me find one.”

   “A cat?”

   I nodded. “It was the one that led me here in the first place.”

   “Where is this cat?”

   “I thought it was following me,” I turned around to the backstage entrance, “but I guess it left again.”

   “Well,” she took another drink, “glad it’s helping then.”

   I started writing down the names and numbers on the last page of the journal. The book was filled till the very end where the writing seemed to end abruptly. “Alright, I’m done.”

   “So what now?”

   I tapped the pen on the cover as I thought of what to do. “Well,” I said nibbling on the pen, “we could look around the city. See if anyone else is out there.”

   She took one last chug of the drink. “Guess that’s a better plan than doing nothing.” She went around the bar and took out her revolver.

   “Oh!” I exclaimed remembering the gun in my blazer. “I found this backstage as well.” I took out the pistol and showed it to her.

   She looked at the grip of the gun. “D.R.”

   “I found it inside one of the drawers. I guess performers need to take precautions.”

   “I know that well enough. You know how to use it?”

   “Not really, no,” I said reluctantly. “It’s just a matter of having a firm grip and not aiming the barrel at your companions, right?”

   “…Sure.” Her hesitance was not reassuring. “Keep the safety on when you’re not using it. Got it?”

   I nodded and she started walking toward the exit. I followed her, putting the pistol away with a slight smile on my face. The feeling of loneliness in this city was lessened with Amora there, even though I knew she didn’t want to get close to anyone. As I let her lead, I started reading the first entries in the brown journal to pass the time.

[aroselane]

The Devil in Me Ch. 14

Chapter Fourteen:

Shay:

I laid face up on my bed.

“You’re joking,” Jody said.

“No,” I said, “It was him.”

“For real?” she asked.

“For realsies,” I said, “It was Noah.”

“That’s nuts,” she said.

She laid down next to me.

“I don’t even know what to say,” she said, “I couldn’t be happier for you.”

I felt myself smiling.

“Its official now,” she said, “Baird said I can talk to you once you had your interview.”

“Yeah, he said the same to me.”

“What do you think about this whole Devil thing?” she asked.

“I’m still not sure,” I admitted, “But you can’t help how you’re born.”

“That’s true,” she said.

This whole thing barely felt real sometimes.

“So,” Jody said, “Did you see him change?”

I had to actively turn my head just to look at her.

“What?” I asked.

Of course, I heard her, I just needed a minute to really let it register.

“You heard me,” she stated, “Did you see him change.”

“A little,” I said.

“Was it weird?” she asked.

“It was a kind of strange,” I said, “But it really wasn’t too crazy of a change.”

She nodded.

“Did you see your guy change?”

She looked at me, and I could see it on her face.

“Was it like a gnarly change?” I asked.

“You ever see a boy grow scales, Shay?” she asked me seriously.

“What?” I had to ask, “Scales?”

“Oh yes,” she said, “His skin changed colors, and his eyes did too.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Noah didn’t really change at all?” she asked.

“His eyes changed,” I said, “Oh, and his tongue split in half.”

“That sounds a lot hotter than it probably is,” she said.

I thought it was pretty weird, but the second his tongue made contact with my skin, I’d say it is beyond hot.

“Is this our new normal?” she asked me.

“What do you mean?”

“Do we need to schedule dates?” she asked, “Do we have to always see them at the facility?”

I never thought to ask either of those questions.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, “I hope not.”

“I want to know how they get their freak on,” Jody said.

“Come on,” I said, “I’m sure they do it the same way we do.”

She shook her head, “Nope.”

“What do you mean, no?” I asked.

“Delaney said that a lot of Devil’s don’t handle excitement well,” she stated.

“You seriously asked him about sex?” I asked.

“I mean, it did come up,” she shrugged.

“Did he elaborate on how?”

“Well, I guess it's different with humans,” she said, “But he said that when a Devil tries to plow their mate, it gets a bit, freaky.”

I don’t think I could handle her strange answers right now.

“Freaky, how?” I asked.

“They can’t control themselves or their change.”

“So, they would change in the middle, or before,” I said.

“Imagine being the girl that has to have sex with that rock guy,” she said, “Is his penis made up of rocks too?”

“One would assume so,” I stated, “But if he just changes for his power, it might not be something to worry about.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she said, “But then he isn’t a Devil.”

“Exactly,” I stated.

“Shay,” Jody said.

“Yeah?”

“If you could have a power,” she said, “What would it be?”

I didn’t even know.

“That’s a hard question,” I said, “What power would you want?”

“I want to be stretchy,” she said.

“Really?” I asked.

I actually had to laugh, because that was one of the powers I asked if Noah had.

“Yeah,” she said, “I could do all kinds of things.”

“Like slip under doors.”

“If I fall off a building, I can make a parachute out of myself,” she stated.

“You can also get a drink from the fridge and not have to get off the couch.”

“Hell yeah,” she said.

I nodded. Being stretchy might be cool.

“Hey,” Jody said, “Got any vodka?”

“Uh,” I thought about it, “I think so.”

She got up, “Let’s go on a treasure hunt.”

-

Noah:

I woke up feeling too many things to really decipher what it meant.

I didn’t want to get up.

My mind drifted to yesterday.

I wish I had more time with her.

I had to sit up.

This wasn’t productive. Wishing for all the things I want in life.

It was crazy when it popped into my head, but I agreed.

I would trade a lot to just have her.

The ghost of her scent filled the air.

My body shivered.

I already wanted to see her again. I wanted to talk to her without Baird present.

It was going to take a few days, maybe longer, for me to forgive him.

What the hell was I going to do with myself today?

I didn’t have to go to the program center anymore. Work isn’t until later.

I couldn’t go see Eileen.

The only thing I could think of to do is go see how Griff and Breena are doing.

Or I could lay in bed all day.

I took in a decent-sized breath.

Maybe, I could talk to Delaney about this girl Jody. I wanted to know if she is a good person or not. I didn’t want Shay to get hurt by anybody. Not if I could help it at least.

I already felt like the kind of guy I knew a girl didn’t want. Being overprotective wasn’t always the right choice. I needed to be careful with that.

It wouldn’t hurt to actually be friends with Delaney. If our girls are friends, we’ll probably be forced to spend more time together anyway.

The best part about it would be if either of us experienced to crazy of a change, we could hold the other back. Friendship couldn’t hurt. In fact, it could be quite beneficial.

I got up and put on whatever I came in contact with first.

Faded blue jeans and a short-sleeve green shirt. Black lace-up shoes, and pretty much everything else I needed to be tracked and monitored.

I had to really think if I knew where Delaney’s room was.

I felt myself frown when I realized I had no idea where his room is. I didn’t even know what his job was.

My legs just kept going as I searched the building. I would find somebody that knows.

I made my way to the room Breena worked from.

She would know. I think she would anyway.

I didn’t need to knock. The door was open, and there were several other people around.

Breena glanced over at me.

“Are you looking for Griff?” she asked.

I shook my head, “I was looking for Delaney.”

She just stared back at me.

“I don’t know where his room is,” I stated, “I was going to ask you if you know.”

She shook her head, “Devon is working security today, you can ask her.”

“Thank you,” I said.

She turned back to the nurse she was speaking to before I walked in.

Devon is working security today. Lucky me, I guess.

I turned a few times until I found the room I was looking for. Security was written in large black letters.

I knocked and waited.

No response.

I knocked again, and before I even finished my second knock, the door opened.

Devon stood there looking irritated.

Her blue hair was always a trip. A trait shared by both her and her brother. Different blues for different abilities.

“Devon,” I greeted.

“No,” she said.

“No?” I asked, “You don’t even know what I am going to ask.”

“Raisa told me you haven’t been coming around,” she stated, “I can only assume that is why you’re here.”

She thought I was trying to fuck her?

“I was going to ask about your brother, actually,” I stated.

“You want to hook up with Delaney?” she asked, “I didn’t think you were into that.”

I sighed. It felt like she was trying to fuck with me.

“No,” I sighed, “I was hoping I could talk to him, but I don’t know where his room is.”

“Oh,” she shrugged, “He isn’t there, so there is no point in telling you.”

What?

“Is he here?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

“Devon,” I said, “Please, I just need to talk to him.”

We all may have grown up together, but I didn’t know much about her. Sometimes I regret not being more involved with their lives. Most of the time, though, I’m glad I don’t have to hear a lot of their drama.

“About what?” she asked.

I knew she was protective over her older brother, but hell.

“His mate and mine are close,” I stated, “I want to talk to him about her.”

She looked surprised.

“I can text him for you,” she said, “He had some stuff to do today, so even I don’t know exactly where he is.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Do you know what his mate looks like?” she asked.

I watched her pull her phone out of her pocket. I noticed just how short her shorts were.

She typed into her phone before bringing her attention back to me.

“Yeah,” I said, raising my eyes to make eye contact with her.

“Is she,” she hesitated, “Is she pretty?”

I didn’t really put a lot of thought into the pink-haired girl.

“She definitely looks like she might be his type,” I stated.

“I would like to meet her,” she said, “Delaney has told me good things.”

I felt a little relieved to hear that, actually.

“Sneak into the program center next time they have a meeting,” I suggested.

She met my eyes with a serious expression, “I heard about what happened with you and your mate.”

I had to really think about it. What happened that sounded so bad?

“What happened with me and my mate?” I asked.

“I overheard Baird briefing Dr. Olsen,” she said, “You met her outside of the program, and you were punished.”

“Yes,” I said, “At the daycare Eileen works at.”

She actually gasped, “Really?”

I nodded, “Her younger brothers go there.”

“Wow,” she said, “And you’ve only just met her?”

It did sound weird when she said it like that.

“I was pretty pissed about it actually,” I admitted.

“I can imagine,” she said with a small smile, “Having your mate be so close and never running into them.”

It looked like she got a response because her attention went back to the device in her hand.

“He said he is curious about your mate too,” she said, “But he is doing something for work, so he will meet you later.”

“Okay,” I said, “Thank you.”

She nodded, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I said.

She shut the door.

Damn it.

What the hell was I going to do now?

-

Shay:

I think I overdid it. I felt sick.

Jody grinned at the television.

“I could totally make that,” she slurred as she pointed at the screen.

I don’t even know what it was, it looked like a mixed rice and shrimp dish.

I nodded, even though I was pretty sure she didn’t know what it was either.

I would have stopped drinking earlier if I had to get the boys. Thankfully Andre got off work early tonight.

I didn’t know if I was ready to go to the daycare and see Eileen yet.

There were so many questions I had, I didn’t want to drown her with them.

Cody walked into my room and smiled at me.

“Hey,” I said, “What’s up?”

“Can you paint my toes?” he asked.

I wasn’t expecting that, but I nodded.

“Go pick a color,” I pointed to the small box I kept the bottles in.

He grinned wide as he pulled the box out to go through them.

“Can I paint one foot?” Jody asked, “And Shay paints the other?”

Cody nodded with so much excitement, I couldn’t help but think it was cute.

“Pick two colors,” Jody said.

She moved back towards the headboard of my bed so that when Cody got on the bed, it would be easier to paint his toes.

He never asked me to paint them before.

Cody practically jumped on my bed before he sat in front of us. He handed me purple, and he handed Jody blue.

I smiled at the face he made when he extended his leg to give me his foot.

Jody giggled next to me. I knew she was just as excited as I was to paint his nails.

“What made you decide to paint your nails?” I asked.

He frowned a little.

“Don’t worry,” I said as I unscrewed the lid, “I am just curious.”

“I think painted nails are pretty,” he said, “But the boys at school said only girls paint their nails.”

Jody made a disapproving noise, “That is not true.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“Of course,” she said, “Boys and girls both paint their nails all the time.”

“Andre doesn’t,” he said with a frown.

“That’s because Andre doesn’t like nail polish,” I stated, “Everybody likes what they like.”

I didn’t hesitate to hold his toes still as I painted his first toenail.

He grinned wide as the color made contact with the nail.

“There is nothing wrong with being who you want to be,” Jody said, “Not everybody knows who they are, so they have to learn.”

I was thankful for her.

“She’s right,” I said, “You are the only one who knows who you really are and what you really like.”

“And once you know the real you,” Jody added, “People will love you for it.”

“And some people won’t,” he said.

“Those people don’t deserve to know you if they can’t see past a few painted nails,” I stated, “People are more complex than that.”

“The people who support you and the things you like,” Jody said, “Will stay with you forever.”

He grinned at us.

“Like you guys?” he asked.

“Of course,” Jody said, “You see how weird Aunt Jody is, and you guys love me, right?”

He looked like he realized what she meant, and he nodded.

She grinned so wide at him, it hurt me. It also warmed my heart.

“That is love,” she said, “Just like I love you.”

I could see the tears form in his eyes.

“I love you too, Jody,” he said, “And I love you, Shay.”

My eyes started to sting as I watched him wipe at his eyes.

“Do you want your fingers painted too?” Jody asked.

He looked at us both a little worried.

“What is it?” I asked.

“A boy at school,” he said, “I wanted to paint my nails like him.”

Awe, he really is precious.

“The other boys in my class picked on him up for it,” he said, “They called him a girl.”

“Little shits,” Jody frowned.

“It is a shame,” I said to him, “There will always be small-minded people in this world.”

He looked at me, confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Some people don’t understand what they aren’t used to,” I said, “Those boys were raised differently, and it isn’t their fault.”

“But they could still learn,” he asked, “Right?”

I nodded, “Sometimes, you just need to be patient.”

“Not this time,” he said, “Maybe we can paint my fingernails next time.”

“Okay,” I said, “Whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you,” he said.

He wiggled his toes happily as he studied the end result.

Andre poked his head in the room, and I could see Cody get a little scared.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked.

“Painting toes,” I said.

Andre’s hazel eyes went to Cody.

“Are yours done too?” he asked.

Cody looked a little nervous, but he nodded.

Andre walked into the room to study our handiwork.

“They look good,” he said.

I smiled at him.

Cody looked relieved before he grinned back at Andre.

I was thankful Andre didn’t say what I thought he was going to.

“Be careful, okay,” Andre said, “Some boys at school won’t understand.”

Cody nodded.

“Some girls won’t either,” Jody said, “Just be patient with them.”

“It’s time to get ready for bed,” Andre said as he pat Cody’s head.

Cody nodded before leaning forward to hug me tightly. He did the same to Jody.

Once he was off the bed, he hugged Andre just as tightly before going to his room.

“Thank you,” I said to Andre quietly.

“I’m not completely clueless,” he said, “He’s different.”

It’s true, actually. Cody likes frills and sparkles.

“Does that bother you?” I asked.

He looked like he was thinking about it.

“No,” he shook his head, “What bothers me is the way other kids will treat him.”

“It just means we need to love him harder,” I stated, “And make sure he knows that no matter what he likes, that we are always going to be there.”

He nodded, “We’re lucky to have you, Shay.”

“True,” Jody said.

“We’re lucky to have you too,” Andre said, looking at her, “Don’t forget, you’re family too.”

Jody made a face I can only compare to a child. Her bottom lip came out a little, almost like a pout, and her eyes watered. She appreciated him saying that to her.

Her arms spread for a hug, “Bring it in, brother.”

“Fucking hell,” he said.

She got to her knees to go to the side of the bed he stood at, and she hugged him.

I didn’t hesitate to get in on that hug.

“We’re lucky to have you too,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “I need to head to bed now.”

“Goodnight,” Jody said once she was detached.

“Goodnight,” I said.

“Night,” he said, “Sleep well.”

Andre walked out.

This strange sensation went through me, and I could only describe it as love.

“I don’t know what I would do without you guys,” Jody said suddenly.

I turned to look at her.

“I’ve always been that weird in your face kid,” she said, “A lot of people are put off by it.”

That was just Jody. I loved her for it.

“You were the only one that didn’t treat me like I was annoying,” she admitted.

“We were seven,” I stated, “Everyone was annoying.”

She grinned, “But you were patient with me, while everyone else just refused to be my friend.”

I took her hand in mine, “Nobody could take your place.”

She squeezed my hand and grinned.

“Besides,” I said, “You’re my nipple godmother, remember?”

She laughed, “For life.”

I grinned at her, “Damn right.”

-

Noah:

I couldn’t sleep.

It felt like a small electric current went through me.

Every cell of my body was wide awake.

Frustration settled heavily in my gut.

I forced myself up, and I went right for my socks and shoes.

This feeling was unpleasant, I needed to get out.

I pulled a loose red tank top out of my dresser and slipped it on.

The basketball short I already wore were sufficient enough. I had to grab my phone from the charger and make sure I had my tracker on.

My jaw ached.

“Fuck,” I growled.

I couldn’t mess around here anymore, I had to get out. I had to get out now.

I found myself outside of the facility.

It was still dark out.

My legs started to move on their own. I ran.

I ran and ran.

By the time I made it back, the sun was already high in the sky.

My body shook. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the strain I just put it through, or because I couldn’t forget the taste of her skin.

“Noah.”

I didn’t even hear him. Part of me wished I had just gone inside the building instead of stopping outside.

“What are you doing?”

Baird looked at me, surprised.

“I was out for a run,” I stated.

His eyes went to the tablet.

I hated that device. It was practically glued to his hand.

“What happened?” he asked, “Your vitals are irregular.”

I knew that without him having to tell me.

His eyes scanned the screen, and he frowned.

“You left the facility at 5:17 AM, and,” his frown deepened, “You are just arriving back, at 12:47 PM.”

Fuck, was I really gone that long?

“What is going on?” he demanded.

I shook my head, “I don’t know.”

“Noah,” he said quietly, “You need to see Dr. Olsen.”

“Baird,” I said simply, “No.”

“I do not think you realize just how serious this could be,” he said.

For the first time today, I felt tired. I think it was because of this conversation.

“You might be having a residual reaction from Shay,” he said, “This restlessness you are clearly experiencing might be a side effect.”

“Baird,” I said, “I’m fine.”

“Your vitals say otherwise.”

“Please,” I practically begged, “Please don’t keep me away from her.”

His expression said it all. He was torn.

“This cannot be good for,” he said, “You need to make sure this is just from your first real meeting.”

“And if it’s not?” I asked.

“I do not know,” he admitted, “But this is not good for you.”

I didn’t give the slightest fuck if it was good for me.

I found her. I didn’t care what that meant for me. I needed to see her again.

“That also means that you can’t keep her away from me,” I realized what his word meant, “In order to figure out if it is a one-time occurrence, I need to see her again.”

“Yes,” he said like it was obvious.

“When?” I asked.

“I still have yet to talk to Dr. Olsen,” he said, “I would say, maybe a week.”

I couldn’t wait that long.

“Noah,” Baird said, “This is not optional.”

He acts like I don’t already know that.

“You need to see Dr. Gardiner,” Baird said, “Now.”

I glared at him.

“You need a sedative,” he stated, “Something to help calm you down.”

I didn’t want to see Dr. Gardiner.

“Now, Noah,” Bard said sternly.

He really pissed me off lately.

“I will talk to Dr. Olsen later today,” he said, “By the time you are awake, I will have some answers for you.”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

I didn’t expect him to expedite protocol. He was a stickler for that shit.

Baird was predictable. That was one of his defining qualities.

I would take his advice. I will see Dr. Gardiner and get a sedative.

I could already feel the desire to run again.

I couldn’t go on like this.

The walk to his small clinic in the main building always felt longer than it really was.

My body stopped outside his door. The red occupied indicator was up.

I sat in one of the chairs across from the entrance.

This was the last thing I needed.

A small sound came from behind the door.

Maybe someone was actually hurt.

The next sound was something hitting the floor.

That sounded like a container was dropped. Was everything alright?

Another box hit the ground, and I was quick to my feet.

I didn’t hesitate to open the door.

Regret poured through me.

This was the last thing I needed.

Raisa stared wide-eyed at me, and so did the man that had his dick buried in her.

Honestly, I didn’t give a shit who she fucked, I just didn’t want to see it.

“I thought somebody was hurt,” I stated.

“This is a clinic,” Dr. Gardiner hissed, “That’s why the occupied sign was up.”

He didn’t even try to hide what he was doing.

She was facing the counter, holding it for support while he came at her from behind.

I suspected that he might be trying to get at her, but to see it. I needed a shower. I felt disgusted.

“You can wait outside,” Raisa said.

“And listen to the two of you fuck?” I asked, “I’d rather not.”

Dr. Gardiner looked more pissed off than she did.

“I need a sedative,” I stated.

“You look fine to me,” he stated.

It was really awkward trying to have a civilized conversation, and them still being in that position. She wore a short dress that he just pushed up almost all the way to her shoulders, and he only had his pants at his ankles.

“Baird’s suggestion,” I stated, “I could go get him if you don’t believe me.”

The look on Dr. Gardiner’s face said it all. He didn’t want Baird to report him.

“You little fucker,” he hissed.

“Neither of us has a choice here, Clive,” I stated, “I want to be here less than you want me here.”

“Side cabinet,” he pointed, “Orange bottle.”

I walked over to the small cabinet he indicated, and I opened the doors.

“Orange,” Clive said.

I know, asshole.

I scanned the shelf, but I didn’t see anything with an orange label.

“There is nothing orange here,” I stated.

“Are you fucking blind?” he gasped.

Raisa made an irritated noise.

I felt something bump my shoulder, and I frowned.

Dr. Gardiner was next to me, scanning the shelf.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “Cassandra must have moved them.”

Just my fucking luck.

He opened a few other cabinets before he smacked my shoulder.

“Take two and get out.”

He held out the white bottle with the orange lid and matching label.

I opened the container and took two of the large white ovals out.

I was thankful he didn’t reach his hand in and grab them. I know where they’ve been.

His irritation was evident as I took my time to twist the container shut before setting it on the other counter.

I left the room after that.

The door shut behind me, and even without focusing, I could hear them pick up where they left off.

My body moved quickly to get away from the small office.

I put the pills in my mouth, and I chewed them. They tasted foul.

The sooner they got into my system, the better. I just needed to sleep this off.

The walk back to my room was slow, but when I got there, I felt it again.

Frustration.

I know it hasn’t been that long, has it?

I groaned once I was secure in my room.

Seeing those two fucking idiots.

I shook my head. The desire to run again was strong, but another desire was unyielding.

I pulled the red tank top off and tossed it into the small hamper. I kicked off my shoes and laid flat on my back.

Sometimes I hated how my anatomy betrayed me. I hoped the running would help tire me out to the point my body wouldn’t be able to react. I was mistaken.

The forming erection only got worse.

Maybe I shouldn’t have licked her knuckles.

I groaned at the thought. There were at least a dozen other places I wanted to lick.

My brain wasn’t helping.

My problem was only getting harder, literally.

I glanced down at the protrusion and sighed.

I was passed the point of just being able to ignore it. Damn it.

Part of me felt the sedatives kicking in, but something inside me demanded release.

My hand slid under the thin fabric.

Guilt filled me as I thought of the mate I have yet to claim.

[cabinboy100]

BABY DRIVER: Screening #2 brain dump…

This post is gonna be a spoiler-tastic collection of notes, thoughts, Edgar/Easter eggs, and crazy talk on elements of Edgar Wright's BABY DRIVER after a second screening tonight.

(You can review my post-screening-1 ramble here.)

About names and casting…

Buddy—Jason Van Horn.

I couldn't hold onto his last name after my first screening, just vaguely recalled it being Van Winklevossy, y'know? Something that fit Bats's educated guess from an uneducated man. But this time, I remembered, and hours later, I get it! I think? Jason VAN HORN! =)

Darling—Monica Costello.

In the car after taking care of the Butcher & friends, the crew press each other about their names and Buddy explains that they only know each other by nicknames, aka "monickers." With punny timing, Darling then reveals that her real name is Monica. We find out her last name is Costello from a breaking news bulletin later. My mind always jumps to Abbott-and- but I don't think that applies here. =)

Griff—short for Griffin.

We never get his real name, but that doesn't matter so much here. We do get Griffin, as in the legendary eagle-lion mashup beast, depending on the culture and time in which you ask, supposedly supernaturally wise and partial to gold treasure and testing humans with riddles.

Frack, am I confusing them w/sphinxes? Hrm…I'm gonna go with it, just to get my thoughts down.

After the first heist, Griff takes it on himself to find out what makes Baby tick, believing his quiet and aloofness to be signs that he considers himself better than the rest of the crew. He explains to Baby—You can't do crime without being a little criminal…One day, you're gonna get blood on your hands.

I wish I could remember more/all of what he says to Baby, but I'd bet all of it is and/or comes true.

Even if the name isn't a perfect connect, he still plays a Cassandra-like Wrightian soothsayer in the shape of a bank robber.

Doc.

I don't think we get any clue as to his altar ego, if he has one. All we know is he's a heist mastermind with impressive resources and a line on people with nasal troubles. We do see him sharing drinks w/Big Boi and Killer Mike at Bacchanalia, tho. ENT to hip-hop stars who was once in love, too? =)

Bats—Leon.

The batty lion. That works. I think we must've gotten his last name in that breaking news report, too, but I missed it. Nuts.

Eddie No-Nose—formerly Eddie the Nose.

Heh. That's a No-Nose no-no, page 1.

J.D.

I didn't catch any hint as to his real name. Maybe it's a filmmaking reference, like R2-D2? But specific to something or someone disposable? Or maybe a clue as to his fate, when or if he's ever discovered, post-sunset, he'd surely be tagged as a John Doe, right?

The Butcher—never get his name, but the actor? OMG! STILL ALIVE! =)

Crazy amazing casting and a damn impressive delivery of a pig-themed bad cop sales pitch! Perhaps PHANTOM holds a special place in Wright's heart? I know it does in mine. Or perhaps it's the man's extensive and inspiring oeuvre as a whole. In any case, a joyous experience seeing him in the BABY DRIVER world.

And the rest…

Now, whatever I can recall that I want to not forget, roughly in the order of appearance in the film…

The graffiti behind Baby is definitely updated between his trip to Octane and back to the Healey building. Maybe in more than one place, but I'm only sure about the "RIGHT" + "Shake Shake" art. On the way to Octane, along with Baby's "Harlem Shuffle" track syncing with graffiti and posted words in the environment, we see Baby match poses with wall art of a guy looking up to the sky and play "air horn" in front of show window featuring a trumpet. On his way back, a sandwich board doomsayer tells him that he must save himself from sin, and when crossing the street, a police car just passes him by before turning on its siren.

I wonder…Could the lyrics to "Harlem Shuffle" be a map to one of the getaway scenes? Or the acts and plot of the entire film…?

Hrm…Maybe…? Certainly can't put it past Professor Wright =)

When Baby flips thru channels at home w/Joe early on, there's a series of channel audio bits that felt a lot like SHAUN OF THE DEAD. The MONSTERS, INC bit that Baby uses on Doc—"You and I are a team. Nothing is more important than our friendship."—is part of it. At the end, we see coverage of a bullfight, a matador stepping around a skewered but undefeated bull. We hear, and see via cc—"The bull still stands." In the moment, that seems to be comment on Baby's sticking with his one-more-job-and-I'm-done plan, despite Joe's objection.

However, before we cut to the next scene, the announcer continues, talking about how the matador, having failed to finish the bull from horseback, must now try his luck on foot, which is kind of what happens to Baby after the Post Office robbery and also in his finale duel with Buddy in the parking garage. Post-Post Office, after skewering Bats, Baby (and Buddy and Darling) have to abandon their steed and escape on foot.

Later, when it's down to Baby and Deb vs. Buddy, they start car-v-car (the red Charger and the police cruiser), but Baby tells Debra they have to get out of the car so that he can end this, and although he does that just to get into a different car, the final confrontation has all of the players on their feet. Well, y'know, until they're not any more.

I think the second time we see Baby or Joe channel-hopping at home, Noel Fielding appears on screen for a few seconds. On my first screening, I thought it was a clip from THE MIGHTY BOOSH, but now I realize that it's from the video for Mint Royale's "Blue Song," which Wright directed and was sort of an early short form riff of his BABY DRIVER concept. A wheelman waiting on his crew to the sound—and duration—of a favorite song of the right length.

Debora vs. her sister Mary for songs with their names.

Bo's Diner decor/wall art—Route 66, couple in a convertible. Same as one of the postcards Deb sends Baby in jail.

Where is Bo's Diner? If ever in the area, gotta go—gotta go!

Laundromat decor/wall art—rockets and space.

Was the decor in the dinner and 'mat redone for the movie, or left as found?

The senior waitress says that Baby's been coming there since before she started. She thinks/heard that his mom used to work there. Lucky for Baby Deb thinks that more sweet than creepy. =)

BABY: I have different iPods for different days, different moods…

Bo's Diner number—555-1270. I think that was it. December 1970? Does that line up with a significant birthday or cinematic event?

There's a beautiful pair of shots one after the other when Baby, at home, calls Debora at Bo's. He's framed in a doorway of a darkened room, Joe in the lit living room behind him, with most of the dark on screen to the right. Then we see Deb, framed by the dark foreground of part of the kitchen, or maybe a supply/pantry area, to the left, with the light of the diner behind her. There's a palpable sense of their connection thru that phone line that crosses a darkness between them.

Or something. =)

Baby notices JD's "HAT" neck tattoo. JD explains that it used to read "HATE" but he had it "fixed" to be more marketable to prospective employers. After all…

JD: Who doesn't like hats?

Baby invites Debora to "Buck & Ella" (I think w/his earbuds in and sight reading from the side, he doesn’t perfectly catch “Bacchanalia” =) for the finest wining and dining of all the wine and dine in town.

Deb and Baby make music with their glasses at Buck & Ella. The whole non-verbal carousel cam montage of their date there is in wonderful sync to the music. LA LA LAND, eat your hat. =)

DOC: Take the buds out, shades off. Take the nephew, it'll be less suspicious.

I remember thinking that this seems like a way for Doc to set Baby up for capture later, getting his uncovered face caught on camera. A contingency plan to keep Doc under his thumb? Or put him away after this job?

NEPHEW SAM: You have a mint that says "Sam?"

When Baby and Sam deliver their reconnaissance report, I think Doc says, "Chips off the old block." A hint of actual fatherly affection? A Fagin-like show of pride? A clue to his brother's identity? Something else?

POSTAL WORKER: Everybody wants happiness, nobody wants pain, but you can't have a rainbow without a little rain.

This after saying she's working "9 to 5, just like Dolly."

It's a sweet connect to the rain that falls the next day, the day of the Post Office heist, and the rainbow that appears five years later when Deb picks up Miles on his release from prison, ready to drive west on 20 in a car they can't afford with a plan they don't have.

I guess that's romantic? Sounds like a lot of stress to me. =)

Whenever someone slams a door or trunk, we hear Baby's tinnitus ringing. Always a flashback to the accident?

BATS: You don't need a score for a score!

And he talks about Hex Songs…

"Knockin' on Heaven's Door" "End of the Road" "Hotel California"

BATS: An educated guess from an uneducated man.

Bats at Bo's "reading" Buddy and Darling. They rob banks to support doing drugs. Bats does drugs to support robbing banks. They're on vacation; he's at work.

The bill at Bo's for four Cokes, aka three Cokes and one Coca: $5.70. Baby leaves a 20 and a note: Road trip 2am.

When Baby and Deb are on the run after shooting Buddy at Bo's, Baby steps into a phone booth in a bit of empty lot to call Doc, who is not helpful. The booth has graffiti on its clear walls of tentacles reaching up from the ground—a visual representation of the realization of Griff's prophecy? This is just before they—Bonnie and Clyde? More like Bonnie and Bonnie—acquire the red Charger from the vaping punks. One of them asks Baby to leave him his phone but since it's playing the music, Baby says—Nope. =)

BABY: Fuck you, Buddy.

Paraphrasing Elvis? FYB vs TCB? =)

I didn't mention it in my previous ramble, but Baby definitely vibes Elvis at least as much as Han throughout the movie, and earlier, actually. When lip syncing to the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion's "Bellbottoms" in the opening heist, he's definitely channeling Elvis for me.

Caught in the credits this time that WALTER HILL is the ASL interpreter for Joe in the courtroom at Baby's trial. Only heard, not seen. Cinema-cool… =)

Also, Baby's prisoner number is 28071978—the release date of Walter Hill's THE DRIVER! =)

WHO gives Baby his mail in jail? Not credited (in order of appearance, he should've been last, and the judge was last). Whoever it is has a very unique look, and a distinctive voice. Guess I'll just have to see it again!

Keep on keepin' on~