#not strictly accurate but captured my feelings last year

[lostinmirkwood]

First kiss since separating from my husband 18 months ago was shotgunning a hit off a weed pen at the concert of the band who wrote my divorce anthem.

[bloomingcockroaches]

holding my hands out to you like a starving cold orphan boy fairweather friends directors commentary Perchance I reread it again and it still drives me craaaaaaaazy

anything for you of course!! i'm so flattered that you have returned to this fic so many times 😭 i'm very proud of it!!

Fairweather Friends by bloomingcockroaches (babilonium)

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom - A. C. Crispin

Relationship: Hector Barbossa/Jack Sparrow

Characters: Jack Sparrow, Hector Barbossa

Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Pre-Canon, Drunk Sex, May/December Relationship, Developing Relationship, Hook-Up, Explicit Consent

Words: 5,904

Summary: Five times Barbossa had Jack against a wall, and one time on the floor OR Five times Captains Sparrow and Barbossa crossed swords, and one time it was strictly business.

Director's Commentary

-> the little epithets at the opening of every chapter come from Everything Goes to Hell by Tom Waits, which is the song that first inspired me to start writing this fic. like most Tom Waits songs it has a very sleazy/tragicomedic kind of romance to it, which is exactly the vibe i wanted to capture in this fic. lots of tom waits songs have made their way on my sparrossa playlists over the years because this vibe in general is very apt for them.

-> the name of the clipper 20-year-old jack has spent 8 months serving on, the Daedalus, is from greek myth. Daedalus was Icarus' father and also the architect of the labyrinth that housed the minotaur.

Jack finds him leaning against the bar at the One Eyed Crow, tapping a tune against the hilt of his sword with his fingers. He is forty if he's a day, tall and wiry, his face weathered by a lifetime at sea. He wears his hair down to his shoulders, pulled back from his face, and a gold hoop in each ear. Despite the modesty of his origins and the butchery of his profession, he has an aristocratic bearing, and amid so low a den of thieves he is positively debonair. Jack approaches him with all the unearned confidence that youth and beauty can afford, with a tankard of ale in each hand.

-> i'm still very fond of this description of a younger barbossa, i think it's accurate and evocative. also a fun fact that i'm not sure if anyone picked up on is that i made barbossa twenty years jack's senior, making him exactly double his age when they first meet. going by actor's ages, in cotbp, jack is just shy of 40 and barbossa is 50. but barbossa has been dead for 10 years, meaning that he was 50 ten years ago when he marooned jack on rum runner's island. so, in reality, he is 60, but spent his last 10 years not aging at all.

i love this detail both because i love 20-year age gaps and because i'm obsessed with the impact it would have on their relationship that jack is "catching up" to barbossa in his age. they went from having a 20 year age gap to a 10 year age gap. i'm sure it rubs jack the wrong way (he's vain and terrified of death, his age is a sore and delicate subject) and amuses barbossa greatly.

"Welcome to the Caribbean, lad," he hisses in his ear, and leaves him weak kneed and bleary eyed to hold up the tavern wall on his lonesome.

-> this is one of my favorite little tidbits in this fic because it's what jack says to elizabeth on rum runner's island when she's heartbroken and disappointed in him

giving that line this particular backstory felt and feels so gross, i love it... that jack would think of meeting his own hero in that moment of their own first intimacy... [prolonged wicked cackling]

this is also a great time to point out that jack and elizabeth are exactly twenty years apart when they meet as well :^)

-> i did a lot of research into the locations for this fic and looked at a lot of 17th century maps to determine where they might bump into one another. idk if that sort of thing really matters to people, because idk the overlap of people reading sparrossa fanfiction in the 2020s and people who are familiar with 17th century colonial place names in the caribbean sea, but it helped me get a solid sense of time and place while writing and imo makes the world feel more concrete and developed.

Jack doesn't mind being on his knees, not on the worst of days, but there's an edge of victory to being on his knees here, now, in front of him. Myth and legend go a long way on the sea and among sea faring folk; there's something tantalizing about meeting the men behind them in the flesh.

-> more of the parallel between jack/barbossa and elizabeth/jack that i really liked exploring here, especially because elizabeth is smarter and more guarded than jack was at her age, and jack is just not as good a pirate as barbossa is at any age, though he's built an equivalent (if not larger) mythos for himself

"Heard you've called yourself Sparrah," he sneers, "Jack Sparrow, is it?" Jack can't take his eyes off his mouth. "Aye," he says. "What was it I heard the harbormaster call you? Horatio? Horace? Hornby?" "Hector," he growls, "and I'll thank ye not to get too familiar. Lest ye forget yourself." "God forbid we should become friendly." "God forbid."

-> i'm very pleased with how i stylized barbossa's accent in this fic, because i think we all agree that spelling someone's pronunciation out phonetically for every word is extremely annoying. i also have always held that jack named himself "sparrow" and the stupid backstory they gave him for that name in potc5 made me irrationally angry... i mean everything about that movie made me really upset but that was a highlight for sure. it felt good establishing this here! especially because jack was using his given surname, Teague, until some point between chapter 1 and 2 of this fic

The third time finds Jack skint broke, rum soaked, and lovesick, on St. Mary's Island.

-> this is the first sentence i ever wrote for this fic! chapter 3 was the first section i wrote, and probably my favorite

"Unfortunately for that funny little man what left me strung up and left for dead, I am a hard man to kill," says Jack, "to the eternal torment of those what might wish me otherwise." (...) "She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, Hector," he says at some point, between one application of his mouth and the next, "and she's gone isn't she? Took 'er just because he could." "Aye, and I'm a poor substitute I'd imagine," says Barbossa, and flips him on his belly. "No, you're just what I needed, mate," says Jack, and presses his face down into the poor excuse for a mattress, lest he think too long on his bonny lass, resting at the bottom of the sea, looking up at the underside of the waves.

-> i knew i wanted to include the backstory with beckett and the wicked wench, and i like how i did it in this chapter. subtle enough that if you didn't already know what i was referencing, it probably isn't that obvious. but very clear if you already know!

jack talks a lot about being in love with the Pearl, and i liked playing with this pillow talk in a way where barbossa could easily assume jack was talking about a woman when he was talking about her

"You make a lot of enemies, Ja - aaa - ack," says Barbossa, the vowel stretching like a cat in the sun, "'s no way to live." "Hasn't been a way to die just yet."

-> this description of how barbossa stretches out jack's name was a random snippet i wrote in a notebook somewhere many many years ago and it was so great finding a real place for it after all that time

"Insolent little chit," says Barbossa, "Alive enough to smarm means alive enough to settle your tab, which settles the first and last of my concern over the matter."

-> i chose this insult specifically because it refers to a defiant/brash young girl, and i like the idea of barbossa talking down to jack in that specifically gendered way, both because of his "womanly airs" and his youth ("womanly airs" here used in the specific historical context)

"Charming company you are," says Jack. "Not one that's bein' forced upon ye," says Hector. He sounds tired; weary in a way Jack never would have expected of him. He bites his tongue against the feeling in his chest that might resemble worry, but not before a shade of it runs past his lips. "I heard about the Cobra, mate, I'm sorry," he says, looking out into the common room at anything that isn't his tablemate. He'd planned on returning the courtesy paid to him on St. Mary's and avoid mention of Hector's misfortune almost entirely, but his mouth had run on ahead of him before he could catch it. "Spare me your pity." "Wouldn't worry about that, Hector, you don't even have my sympathy," he says as the barmaid drops off his ale and his stew (which he doesn't fail to notice is mostly broth) before running off again. "Found myself with business in the neighborhood, is all."

-> another piece of tPoF lore that i was happy to include here. again, vaguely enough that it could mean nothing to you, but if you know you know! i really love the juxtaposition of both these men coming to find one another when they had lost their ships and their captaincy.

being a ship's captain in potc-verse is very far removed from any historical reality in that every captain owns his own ship, mans his own crew, etc. but it's a huge part of every captain's identity in each case, and it's clearly established in the series lore. i liked exploring how these two would show up for one another at their lowest points. because of course barbossa did very pointedly go looking for jack after he lost the wench. i also like that jack is trying very hard to offer him the kind of support that he was offered just a few short years ago and he fails.

Lean times don't suit Barbossa, if only that Jack doesn't care for how he wears them. There is a troubling hunger to him now that speaks less to his frame and more to his soul. The edge of cruelty he'd always had in him had sharpened in a way Jack felt would make it much more difficult to skirt around.

-> idk if i have anything to add here i'm just very fond of this characterization. overall it was very fun and rewarding to write about barbossa from the perspective of a man hopelessly in love with him because, well, that's an easy frame of mind to enter

"I'm headed to Aruba after this," says Jack between mouthfuls, "t'go see a man about a horse. Or else... por darle gato por liebre. To put it another way. Could do with some time in the West Indies as it were, after all that on the Cantabrique." He glances over at Barbossa to give him the chance to ask the polite question. He doesn't. "I've been near Spain," Jack says anyway. Then, after a moment, "met a witch there, actually." Barbossa doesn't look too interested about the witch. Which is his loss anyway, because there had been plenty interesting about her. For a long while Jack talks and Hector doesn't. He talks about having found passage to Madagascar, and then to Clew Bay, before sailing to the Mediterranean. He's met a mermaid since they last spoke, the second he's run into and the more pleasant of the two. Met a princess as well, who was more pleasant than the mermaid but less interesting than her prince. You'll never guess where the witch came into all that.

-> just highlighting this because i was serious before, i did a lot of geographic research for this fic. also polyglot jack sparrow forever!!!

He lays in her bed as the night deepens around them with her curled into his side, his fingers in her pale hair. He thinks that it is good to be back at something that comes so easily to him. Jack doesn't care to be reminded of the things that don't, and this little excursion had been an amalgam of them.

-> as mentioned previously, i really like exploring jack's sense of personal failure here, of wanting to be there for someone he cares deeply about and not being able to do that

generally, the tension of jack's emotional investment in his relationship with barbossa vs. barbossa's investment in his relationship with jack, and the very clear upset of balance there, is something i find really interesting and sad to explore.

gibbs says in cotbp that jack plays things a bit closer to the chest now and that lifelong hurt from barbossa's betrayal is what really shapes my own understanding of jack as a character and of who he was before cotbp

He is only a few dozen steps up from shore when he sees former Captain Hector Barbossa leaning against exactly the building he's heading towards, under the wood placard that reads Jansen & Sons. His wide brimmed hat casts his face in shadow, and there's an edge to his smile that makes Jack feel like he's walking into something. Whatever it is, there's something not unlike a friend in the middle of it, which in a shrewder man would have raised suspicion and which in Jack Sparrow melts suspicion away.

-> and there he is again!!! letting his deeply held affections erase his self preservation instinct. another jack/barbossa elizabeth/jack parallel :3

Barbossa wears his nails long, which Jack's had little reason to notice until now, when they rake over his skin as his hands pin him down, lift him up, turn him over. There are scratches all over his thighs, his back, his shoulders, and four long bloodied trails over each of his hips where he was most ardently pulled forward. Himself he's not one for biting or scratching but he can't play the tease. He's too eager for it, too hungry to reciprocate, too lost in the ardor of coming together after so long apart and so long a stint of rough seas. If the intentionality of it had been suggested in the past this was it boiling over. It's near midday when they fall into bed together and past dusk when finally they roll apart, tired and content.

-> is it uncouth to mention this sort of thing in your director's commentary? idk and idc. the image of those eight long scratches dug into jack's hips is another random snippet that i've had somewhere in my head for many years, and it was once again a treat to find a home for it here.

barbossa isn't the only member of the Pearl's undead crew who wears his nails long, i think most if not all of them do (have you seen the clip of Lee Arenberg talking about how proud he is of the nails that he grew out au naturale? 🥰) but it's always made sense to me that barbossa kept his nails long before and after the curse. it's a very ~gentleman of fortune~ well bred foppish dandy thing to do.

Jack wakes up to the early morning sun coming through the open window; sober, well rested, and alone. He feels a fool for doing a double take around the room to make certain that he is. What might have been a pleasant soreness under nobler circumstances gnaws at him instead. The scratches on his body have turned to raised white lines and begun to scab over where they broke through his skin. He gets up and crosses the room, where he turns the little mirror above the water basin to look at the damn mess that's been made of his neck. His skin blooms in rings of blue and pink, some teeth marks pressed into the meat of his shoulder too deep and too angry to be mistaken for a wench's affection. His throat hurts. His back aches. He feels well worn in a way that makes him feel too much like a fishwife, kissed silly and left to languish at port. He gets dressed, pulls his collar up as high as he can get it, and makes his way downstairs. He chastises himself over a plate of rubbery eggs for his attachments, and gets on the first ship that can carry him off Nassau and out onto open waters.

-> i personally find this to be a very successful gut-punch after a good amount of build up. it made me sad to write and makes me sad to reread. would that our dear jack was in love with a better man.

i think after a lot of coming and going that jack convinces himself suits his fancy, it becomes very clear to him very quickly that it could be different, but it won't be.

i actually think that the 2 years he spent captaining the pearl with barbossa as his first mate were some of the happiest of his life because of that consistency.

All said, Jack's in the middle of a rather trying day, filled more so with avoiding people and things he doesn't want to cross paths with than with finding the one man whose path he has plans to cross. It's just past dusk when he stumbles out of the Rusted Sextant (where he'd stopped only briefly and only to ask for directions) and across the street towards The Broken Spyglass, a tavern on the North side of the island run by a Moroccan gentleman named Souhail who Jack is reasonably certain won't tell anyone what don't need telling that he's stopped by.

-> every single bar, brothel, or other such establishment named in this fic was named by my dear friend @grosskelly who i bothered repeatedly to provide me such things and who knocked it outta the park every time i harassed them for suggestions

"As ye like, but there's something else I've got that you'll want me to share." Then, very quickly, to outrun the onset of his wolfish expression, "Somethin' entirely unique and as yet unheard of."

-> of all the jack dialogue in this fic, both inner and outer, this is the line that i can hear most clearly in his voice, where i think i captured a specific cadence and affect that could've been in the original trilogy

this was SO FUN TO DO!!!!! i really hope some of it was interesting. thank you for your ask and for liking my fic :,)

[ayankun]

WandaVision episode 6

FIRST OFF

Whenever I go back to pause things for clues, and find exactly what I’m looking for, I don’t feel justified, I feel that much more insane:

It’s really hard to make out, but I had an alright look at it on my folks’ QLED, and it’s definitely a flying saucer doing an alien abduction on what looks to be a person inside an old CRT TV (with some kind of robot head/boombox on top???)  There are secret aliens in this show, you guys, the facts don’t lie.

HmmmMMMM I wonder if Agnes is as innocent as she looks:

Also, I didn’t see that she was wearing the brooch in this ep, and I was majorly disappointed in that.

Two things here:

No, that’s not a twins joke.

Another Moonmen Confirmed

I know green is his color or whatever, but that hat is literally 10 years ahead of its time

Also, I took the playing-DDR-at-home scenario at face value, and only on the first rewatch did I realize it was a very pointed turn-of-the-century reference.  I am an Old.

There’s a good, subtle Rule of Threes in this ep.  The Setup:

The Sokovian Halloween flashback works on so many levels.  It’s so funny:

The fact that they went trick-or-treating at all

The “speaking Sokovian”

The treat being a fish

They have to share the fish

The concept that this event gave them an infectious disease

“You probably suppressed a lot of the trauma” -- it’s a good sitcom joke but.  the trauma is the joke.  The joke IS THE TRAUMA!!!

Elizabeth Olson is a dream with all her wonderful faces she has this ep.

Vision’s unsettling passive-aggression-sitcom-cooperation whiplash is WOW, consider me unsettled!!!!!!  “Be. Good.”  UGH.

(Just noticed one here, but there are a number of continuity errors in this episode, enough to be distracting later on, and is this a deliberate choice?  Please let it be deliberate.  I didn’t watch a whole lot of Malcolm in the Middle, is it known for its continuity errors?

)

“It’s their first Halloween.” LOLOLOL they are TEN YEARS OLD and this is their FIRST halloween I LOVE IT

DOUBLE RED HERRING CONFIRRRRRRRRMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Agent Jimmy Woo accidentally identifying himself as the sassy best friend added 20 years to my life.

Found.  FOUND.  Not “created,” “manifested,” “willed into being using my insane witch powers.”  Third Party Confirmed.

I like that it’s the 90s and we can swear on TV now.  “Hell” “kick-ass” “damn it” “fu---dge”

I think the most biting part of Vision finding the whacked out folks is that the soundtrack just kind of ... ignores that anything’s wrong.  Yeah, it’s kinda-spooky Halloween music, but it’s still 100% in-world kinda-spooky-sitcom-Halloween-episode music. 

OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE AD:

As a 90s child, let me tell you, this is a blisteringly accurate representation of children’s marketing from the period.  The shark is wearing sunglasses AND he has a surfboard!!!  And he’s selling you yogurt of all things!!!!!  This is the supreme distillation of what being a child in the 90s was like.

How disappointed I am that they went with crab instead of lobster.

Heard it through the grapevine that this is a representative of Wanda’s imprisonment on the Raft.  That happened in Civil War, right?  So the next ad is The Snap?  We’re running out of iconic decades, too. so, hold on, new thought.

90s: Civil War

00s: Infinity War

10s?????: Endgame???? or?????????

??: Whatever happened between Endgame and WandaVision, given that the ads are stepping forward through Wanda’s IRL life events!!

I don’t want to know how many episodes are planned/announced, but I don’t know what to expect from the format after they run out of decades from which to draw.  Maybe there are only one or possibly two “sitcom” episodes left.  Maybe after that it just breaks down and they can pick and choose from the worlds/styles we’ve already established.  That’d be p neat.  A very unique kind of chaos.

god she’s so cute

Okay, somebody explain to me Pietro.  I honestly walked away from last week thinking he was just some townsperson chump, but then I was reminded that this is the Quicksilver actor from all those X-Mans movies I never watched, soooo people are saying Multiverse Confirmed?  But, if this is X-Mans’ Pietro, then why did he die the same as MCU Pietro?  Or is he literally MCU!Pietro’s corpse, given that he looked all dead same as when she saw Vision’s corpse?  If MCU!Pietro, then why different face???

????????????????

Also I found him highly suspicious, what with all the questions he was asking.  But the only sort of person who would truly want to know the answers to those questions would be someone who already had them ... so I think he was just asking on behalf of the audience, and the delivery was all wonked out.

Rule of Threes - The Reference:

Ok, real talk, whenever computers/networks/data/encryption/servers/mainframes et al come up in mainstream media, I just look away.  I don’t need the kind of psychic damage that comes with such egregious mishandling of the topic.

That being said, does Hayward having eyes through the barrier mean that he could possibly be involved in getting it set up?  Because look.  If Hayward-after-Hayward’s-Villianous-Ends is one antagonizing force, then is there really room for the Third Party (Confirmed) antagonizing force that’s lurking in the negative space silhouette of the Inciting Incident?  With Wanda as the Red Herring antagonizing force, that’s just.  There’s just too many villains, alright?  We gotta start merging these plotlines.

(then again, when I just said “eyes” I realize probably understanding the true nature of his new secret “CATARACT” project will clear a lot of things up.  I’ll wait for enlightenment)

Agnes’ license plate in this episode is 0A1-B2C, which I think is a reference to the way reality is getting pared down to bare bones at the edge of town.  Note that this is not the same license plate number as seen last ep.

ALSO, I drove home behind a NJ plate just an hour ago, and was staring at it for a long time, trying to fit it into the puzzle before A) realizing that this was Real Life and not part of the show and B) WTF is a NJ plate doing in front of me in California.  In any case, I can confirm that NJ plates do not appear to have this number-letter repeating format.

So let’s talk Agnes.

Demonstrated knowledge of the situation in ways others haven’t (”There’s the star of the show” “kids, you can’t control ‘em”)

Shows up when needed most (explained as being Wanda’s doing, but is it)

When Wanda was having her babies, though, who was trustworthy enough to be summoned?  Was it Agnes?

Wanted to babysit REAL BAD

Was in the opening credits framed possessively with the twins

Doesn’t appear to have an IRL identity according to Jimmy’s crime board

Keeps talking about her husband but we’ve never seen him.  Highly unlikely that he’s real

Was the one to find Sparky “dead” - internet thinks she was lying to Wanda about how or possibly if he was dead (I’m trying not to read the theories, so idk exactly what the angle is there)

In an episode where everyone is wearing their original comic outfits, Agnes is dressed as (and laughs like!) a witch

She name-drops Wanda as the one controlling everyone; Norm (or the guy playing Norm) only said “she” and “her” -- meaning Agnes?

Naughty

So we’re 99% sure Agnes is Agatha Harkness, right?  I never read no comics, so I’m taking the internet’s word for it, but from what I can tell, I think we must be right.  If that’s the case, then I’m thinking it’s not impossible for her to be pulling some strings around here (giving Wanda a justification for her “that wasn’t me” doorbell ring, for example, and pulling a double red herring on the fact that she shows up whenever the narrative Wanda her nefarious scheme calls for it).

To devil’s advocate myself, though, we also have Monica’s word that it was Wanda in her mind, lessening the impact of Agnes falsely confirming what Norm only implied.  Also she’d have to be acting for Vision’s sake (and ours) and, if so, then what did Vision’s brain-touch really do, and how did she know he’d find her there, and what did she intend as the result of that interaction etc etc.

If Wanda’s (or Wanda + Third Party Confirmed (Agnes??)’s) powers aren’t enough to sustain the simulation of life on the edges of town, how much worse is it going to be now that there is even more area to try to control???

I don’t know if this is strictly an intended read, but the idea of Halloween as a fun, scares-for-entertainment’s sake type holiday, the rounding off the edges of concepts like “skeletons and ghosts are what people are after they die, let’s decorate the town with them and have a good time” kind of is a haunting parallel to the nature of Wanda (et al) covering up the horrible truth of the situation with this happy-go-lucky sitcom glamour.

How much does one hate seeing Vision giving his life for the greater good (the greater good) for the second time?  In other news, I think I’m seeing some specifically Mind Stone type energy-colors coming off of him, and very little Wanda type energy-colors.  Third Party Confirmed.

Also, I was thinking from last week that perhaps Hayward’s Villainous Ends included capturing the reanimated Vision to be one of those Sentient Weapons his organization is all about, but I Do Not Think his reaction to seeing that sought-after prize disintegrate in front of his eyes really matches up with that theory.  Again, will be patiently waiting for Jimmy to check his email to see what CATARACT is all about!

Rule of Threes - The Payoff:

Also, anyone ID the movie playing in the background?

Ok, final thought.  I watched this about four times today, and on the big-ass TV at my parents’ house finally paused and got up close to see what that white shape is in the reflection.  Thought it might be a skull, but, it’s worse.

These caps do not contain enough data to verify my claim, but I PROMISE YOU it’s a TV

A square old thing with a round screen and antenna on top. 

I SWEAR to you, when I looked into the TV, into Wanda’s eyes, only to see the reflection of a TV, of her looking at me looking at her I had a visceral fear reaction.  Like.  LEGIT nauseous skin crawl.

(All the other episodes have ended with our POV as the fourth wall, from the general (or exact!!!) position their household TV is known to be.)

This is my favorite show Of All Time.

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Desired Disobedience:  Chapter 1

He's taking his time.  He enjoys this so much.

Ryou hated Haou.  He hated the monster with every scrap of his dead heart - he didn't even want to use the term 'monster'.  He'd met plenty of monsters who were perfectly decent beings.  But Haou was something more.

Currently Haou lounged across his throne, his eyes half-closed as he listened to a report, one of his hands playing idly with Johan's hair.  Ryou stayed quietly to one side, not that he could do anything else right now.  Haou had ordered him to do that until he was told otherwise.  It had been hours, and he'd not been allowed to move from his position.  He'd already fed earlier, when he'd first awoken, so that wasn't going to be a problem.  At least not yet.  He did need to feed more than once in a night.

"That's enough,"  Haou declared at last, opening his golden eyes.  The one offering the report shut up at once, trembling in fear.  There had been plenty of times where Haou ended a report and disposed of the one who made it, sometimes for no other reason than because he wanted to.  Anyone who tried to protest generally ended up as Ryou's latest meal.

He'd forgotten how many people he'd fed from because Haou ordered it.  Mostly he could find his own meals, but he always had to be ready to feed at a moment's notice.  Haou kept him on that edge of hunger to keep him sharp, or so he said.

Ryou thought he did it just because Haou savored hurting him any way that he could.  Being undead hadn't exactly limited his options.  It only changed his methods from physical to mental and emotional.  Haou excelled at all of those.

But tonight Haou simply waved away the servant and shifted his attention over to Ryou.  The vampire stiffened at once, and at Haou's gesture moved to kneel in front of him. 

"I don't know if you remember this but your anniversary is very soon."  Haou announced.  "Strictly speaking, in one week is the third anniversary of you becoming a vampire."  Those eyes gleamed in the light of the enchanted jewels illuminating the throne room.  Rumor had it he didn't actually need the light to see by.  He was darkness incarnate, after all.  "I think we're going to have a little celebration."

Ryou hadn't even thought about it.  He'd never considered celebrating the day that he'd died and been brought back as Haou's undead slave.  He couldn't remember the last time that he'd wanted to celebrate anything.  But Haou didn't care - there wasn't any reason that he would.  If he could find any way to hurt Ryou, then he would.  Ryou expected it by now.

"Now, the question is, what kind of celebration should we have,"  Haou mused.  He wasn't asking Ryou that directly.  One of the Death Duelists - Skull Bishop - cleared his throat a little and Haou glanced in his direction, eyebrow raised.

"Haou-sama, perhaps we could arrange for a number of rebels to be captured and brought here for Hell Kaiser to feed upon tomorrow night?"  He smirked.  "We might even be able to find his brother."

If blood had still run in Ryou's veins, then it would have run cold. For all the years of the war, Shou had somehow avoided being captured.  Part of Ryou had wondered after his own capture if Shou would make an attempt to get him back.  It was just the kind of thing that Shou would do.  So far if it had ever occurred to his brother, then someone else must have talked him out of it.  He didn't want to see Shou here.  He didn't want to see anyone that he knew here.

"Good idea,"  Haou agreed, lips curving faintly.  "You five go collect some rebels.  Bring them back alive.  Make an effort to find my vampire's brother and bring him in as well.  If you do, treat him with care.  I don't want him harmed – until celebration night."

All five of the Death Duelists bowed at once and withdrew to speak among themselves, making plans for their new mission.  Ryou could hear them, though he doubted anyone else could.  He wished he couldn't.

"Now,"  Haou turned his attention back to Ryou, "as not all of us can survive off of blood, a feast will be prepared.  I quite look forward to the celebration."  His fingers brushed again through Johan's hair and Johan turned his face so he could stare adoringly at the man who'd broken and reshaped him.  "Aren't you?"

His question was addressed to Johan, who nodded quickly.  "I look forward to everything you do, Master,"  he replied, voice pitched low and submissive.  Ryou hated hearing him speak these days, and heard it far more than he would have ever wanted.

"I'll have to ensure Camula is here for this as well,"  Haou mused before he flicked his fingers at Ryou.  "Go keep yourself occupied until dawn.  Only feed enough not to lose yourself. Be ready when the celebration night arrives."  He tapped his fingers for a second.  "And when that time comes, have a present for me."

Ryou could feel his head bowing and he stared down at the floor before Haou. "Yes, Haou-sama.  As you command."  The words came without thought.  He didn't always have to think when he spoke to Haou - or rather, his orders from Camula meant that he couldn't think when Haou gave him a command.  All he could do was obey.

He withdrew from the throne room, pleased at least that he didn't have to watch whatever Haou had in mind to do with Johan.  Everyone knew.  He'd smelled it quite clearly.  Being a vampire enhanced his senses to a ridiculous point.  He didn't like it, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.  All he could do was avoid it to the best of his abilities.

For now that meant going out and getting something to feed on.  Someone, if he were going to be truly accurate about it.  He couldn't feed on any of Haou's forces unless he were told and he didn't want to take the chance on feeding on unknown rebels - most of which were pretty far from Haou's castle if they had the faintest bit of sense.  Which not all of them did.  He would have considered trying to stop the Death Duelists, since he hadn't specifically been ordered not to.  But he knew what would happen if he did, and that wasn't worth the effort. 

Haou only said they should try to bring Shou back.  If Ryou crossed him too much, the order would change to "bring Shou back alive".  And after that - well, he knew exactly what would happen.  At least this way there was the chance that he'd not see his brother before him. 

There were still those who weren't rebels and who didn't serve Haou and there were a few of those who took pleasure in harming others almost as much as Haou did.  It would be at least four hours until dawn, and in that time Ryou could get quite a lot done.  Vampires moved very quickly when the need called.  He kept a sharp eye on all of those people, for those times when he wanted to feed and had no one around the castle he was allowed to feed on.

So now he flitted out, traveling along the quickest route, watching for any signs of others near him.  There were a few, Haou's patrols, but he ignored them and they ignored him.  Everyone in Haou's army knew Haou's vampire on sight.  For years now - three of them in fact - those few who weren't cowed by Haou's habit of murdering people who weren't cowed by him were kept in line by the simple fact they would be Ryou's dinner otherwise.  A few had tried to kill Ryou before they were given to him as a meal.  Haou's standing orders were to drain anyone who attempted to kill him dry.  Those were some of the orders Ryou hated following the most.

Tonight he kept his focus on traveling instead, thinking over who might be the best one of his list of targets to deal with.  He'd had his thoughts on one in particular for a while, so that was where he headed.  This particular scrap of scum had run the realm of Zuspuile from the capital city of Knife's Edge for over two hundred years, and the last Ryou had heard, he possessed quite a few items that could make an adequate gift for Haou.  He didn't know why wanted a gift from him but he would do as he was ordered.

This particular scum knew that Ryou kept an eye on him.�� Ryou made no secret of his distaste for all that the fool did, and only the fact he hadn't been ordered kept him at bay for now.  He didn't doubt for a second that his chosen prey knew exactly who and what he was and went out of his way to ensure that Ryou would have a very hard time getting to him.

The closer he got, the more Ryou thought that might be a very amusing way to spend a handful of hours.  He presumed that this one - a dark sorcerer who wasn't much better than Ryou himself, sucking the life out of those who served him - intended to distract him until the sun rose.  An amusing thought. 

The first hint that he received that the dark sorcerer Vail had set up defenses came to him on the wind, with the strong and clear scent of garlic.  Ryou wrinkled his nose.  He knew the traditional weaknesses of a vampire inside and out, and he knew which ones were true and which were false.  Garlic at best could be said to defend against those vampires who had sensitive noses.  Ryou's wasn't as sensitive as all that, so he simply forged onward. 

By now he could see the pale lights of Knife's Edge clear in the darkness.  There were other beings moving around in the shadows of the night.  A little checking showed that each of them carried talismans warded against the undead - which he could destroy easily enough - and sharp stakes - which might be more difficult to deal with but it wasn't impossible.  If this were the level of defense that Vail had, Ryou didn't think he'd have many problems dealing with this.

He avoided all of the guards as he made his way to Vail's stronghold.  Like in most places there were gemstones set that allowed a warm gentle glow of light.  They did make it difficult for him to work his way in since he favored the shadows for traveling. But he managed.  He knew exactly where Vail's personal quarters were, and as he drew closer, he could sense the presence of even more talismans, all of them strongly warded against undead. 

It was almost amusing.  All of this effort and it wouldn't mean anything in the end.  Ryou flitted around until he found what - or who - would serve his purposes.  He didn't like doing this by any means.  The need to feed and the need to follow Haou's orders allowed him few options.

He had already spent a good hour traveling here.  Now he spent another half hour searching until he spied a servant walking out of Vail's quarters with a load of laundry.  A quick sniff told him exactly what the dark sorcerer amused himself with tonight - exactly what Ryou expected. He wrinkled his nose, wishing he could get the stench of garlic out of it.  Had Vail planted an entire garden of it?  It seemed likely.

But that wasn't much to worry about.  Ryou moved onward.  He waited until the servant was far enough out of the building that no one would notice. Then he dropped down behind the servant and closed his fingers on their neck.  The servant stumbled to a halt, pile of clothes tumbling to the ground, and Ryou could hear their heart-rate pounding.

"Keep quiet,"  he murmured softly into the servant's ear.  "I'm not here to hurt you."  Ryou didn't blame servants for taking work where they could.  "Invite me inside.  That's all I want."

"You're here to kill Master Vail, aren't you?  You're - you're the Hell Kaiser.  Haou's vampire."  The servant whispered, fear lacing every word.  "You can't be here.  The garlic - the wards - they're to keep you out!"

Ryou chuckled, though he didn't think it had much amusement to it.  "I know."  He said nothing more than that right now.  "Now, invite me inside."

He hated a lot of things about being a vampire.  If it wasn't the fact of needing to feed on living blood, and being enslaved to Haou, it was that he needed to be invited inside human habitations.  He could toe the line, as he was now, being in the castle itself but in the open areas, those that the public were allowed to enter freely.  He couldn't enter the private areas - where Vail lived - without an invitation.  It was his luck, such as it was, that anyone inviting him in sufficed. 

At first he wasn't certain if the servant would listen.  He could control the minds of others, but he hated doing that to, and he wasn't gong to if he didn't have to.  Fear didn't make it any better, but at least he wasn't actively controlling their mind.  A tiny fraction of him wondered if he were being a hypocrite.  He suspected he might be but didn't worry himself about it.  It was either this or try something else even less ethical to get his necessary sustenance.

But then the servant bent his head quietly.  "Please wait here.  He'll kill me if I don't get his laundry done."

Ryou snorted softly.  He didn't hold good hopes for Vail being alive come dawn, but he could do this much at least.  He shadowed the servant as best he could as the other put the laundry where it needed to go and then started back.  A proper invitation needed to be done from the inside and by someone who did live in the location.  Anyone who lived there could do it, not just the owner of the structure.  Vampire restrictions could be strange and confusing, especially for the vampires.

The servant stepped inside and turned to look at Ryou, hovering there, arms crossed, making certain to keep his fangs visible.  He didn't want his unwilling ally to forget exactly what he was.  "You are welcome here,"  the servant said, stepping aside. "Come and go as you will."

The words varied, but this was enough to allow him inside.  Ryou entered, feeling the same shiver he always did whenever he crossed a new threshold.  The servant quickly departed, probably to spread the word that Vail would soon be deader than dead.  Ryou knew the outside of this place very well and quickly figured out where he needed to go.  The farther he went along, the more he could feel the presence of anti-undead wards and others meant to ward off evil.

I wonder how he can function with those around?  Ryou allowed himself a small smirk at the thought.  From everything he knew, Vail's deeds didn't equal Haou only because he'd never made the actual attempt to do so.  The massive bulk of his centuries had been spent draining the life force of others to sustain his own.  It wasn't much different from being a vampire, except Ryou took the liquid blood and Vail tore out insubstantial life.  Other than that, there wasn't much difference between them on that level.

Ryou wondered if Vail and Haou might even be allies, if Vail had ever approached him.  Probably not.  Haou didn't take kindly to anyone who didn't acknowledge his supremacy.  Vail might have tried, but it would end with his permanent death.  Ryou suspected Haou intended to kill him eventually anyway.  This was just taking care of it sooner.  If Haou didn't want Vail dead, he would have ordered Ryou not to bother him at all.

He found his way through several corridors and rooms - Vail's quarters were actually even larger with Haou's, and Ryou had always thought no one could match Haou for luxury and self-indulgence.  Rich carpets covered the floors and equally rich tapestries hung from the walls.  Wards, charms, and enchanted gems rested everywhere, and Ryou did have to force his way through some of them.  It wasn't as difficult as one might have thought.   Most of them were weak, which made them easier to bypass with only a mild twinge of annoyance.

The first one he encountered that wasn't that weak gave him a breath of pause.  It was set outside what had to be the main chamber of these quarters, most likely where Vail was at that moment.  It hung over the doorway, a circle of pure silver, gleaming bright with enchantments and shining in the moonlight.  Ryou wrinkled his nose at it.  The garlic scent here stung at his nose, covering up the usual scents in such a place, but by now he'd mostly put it out of his mind.  He regarded the ward carefully, nudging it until he had a feel for where the effects started and stopped.  It seemed fairly usual for one of these.  He thought he'd be able to take care of it.

He glanced around the corridor, looking for something that he could use.  No matter how weak, he didn't want to touch a ward, and this one wasn't weak.  He spied a spear in the hands of an ornamental suit of armor and wrenched it out, examining it and the distance up to the ward.  A normal human couldn't have done this.  That wasn't an issue for Ryou.

Carefully he rose up into the air and hovered in front of the ward, his lip curling up at the feel of it.  His stomach churned and he strained to focus his thoughts on what he was doing.  Then he drove the spear directly into the ward with all of his strength, shattering it.  The resistance he'd felt faded, to a degree.  Clearly there were other wards.  He'd have to deal with them before he could move on.  So he carefully moved forward, watching for more of those.  Wards could take any form, but their aura sang out to him regardless.

Wards of every kind appeared every few steps in this final corridors.  Most of them were crafted of silver and all of them were blessed by as many powers as Vail presumably could find.  He could even taste a small bit of the Light of Hope.  That fascinated him; as far as he knew, the avatars of Creation and Hope hadn't been seen in ages.  History said that the land of Hope, Norbu, had fallen in days of old, before Haou or even Ryou himself had been born.  What had been that land was now ruled over by Fallen Angel Desire.

Ryou had met many Fallen Angels by now.  They served as a vital part of Haou's court.  He did rather suspect Lucifer had guessed his true purpose from the moment he'd entered there.  Very little could be slipped by the old angel, who still looked as young as he'd been when he'd rained down destruction on the capital of Hope. 

He knew more about Desire than he would have really wanted if he had the option. Haou called him "uncle" and Desire's apparent standards for those to warm his bed seemed to be more or less "sentient" and most of the time with the basic human shape of two arms, two legs, a head, and a torso.  Wings and tail or possibly even extra heads or arms or legs were also allowed, as was fur.  Willingness didn't enter into it.  The fact he was one of the few to know what Desire looked like without his helmet on didn't make that situation any better. 

He shook his head to disperse the memories, focusing on what lay ahead of him.  Bit by bit he made his way through the corridor, disposing of every ward he could find.  His fangs itched a little; he was expending more energy than taking in, so he was getting a lot hungrier than he thought.  Breaking through the wards took more out of him than he'd thought they would at first.  He didn't =need to breathe for the air, but he did so now to focus himself.

With a mighty lunge he shattered the last of them and strode inside of the final chamber.  Frankly, he had no idea of why Vail set his mansion up like this when it would be so much easier to navigate in any number of other styles.  But that didn't matter now. 

The dark sorcerer lounged across a plush sofa, looking as elegant as he always did.  To anyone who didn't know any better, he looked like a normal human of perhaps thirty or so, with a deep cascade of golden blond hair, eyes as blue as sapphires, flawless skin, a slender figure that showed nothing of how he indulged himself on anything and everything.  He was arrayed in a robe of evening sky blue satin, bound by a golden sash around his waist, and with a ring on every finger.  Each ring shimmered with magic, mostly of the warding type. 

This wasn't what he'd originally looked like.  Vail had worked magic for quite some time to reshape himself into a shape many would ind attractive.  Ryou had seen images of what he looked like in the beginning, and didn't find this much more attractive than the original dark-haired saturnine model.  But there weren't many folk he'd ever seen as attractive in the first place.

"Welcome, Hell Kaiser,"  Vail purred, his voice as soft and dangerous as death.  "I've been expecting you for quite some time."

Ryou only snorted faintly.  "I noticed.  The garlic is growing quite well."

"Why, thank you.  I presume that your master still hasn't ordered you to kill me?"  Vail raised one slender golden eyebrow.  Ryou shook his head.

"I'm here because I chose to be."  A quick smirk crossed his lips.  "I need to bring him a present.  I think you have plenty that I would like to take him.  Starting with your head."

Vail chuckled.  "Come and get it if you want it so badly." 

Ryou didn't trust this.  Vail had never been what one might call sensible.  He'd noticed that while garlic aplenty grew here, as well as uncountable wards, there hadn't been any guards.  He'd killed several of Vail's guards on previous trips here.  Had the sorcerer learned that he couldn't keep Ryou out with them?  Or was this a trap of some kind? 

He breathed in, listening.  There weren't any other heartbeats aside from Vail's.  Not a single scent of anyone who was still there.  Soldiers had a distinctive scent, usually consisting of armor of some kind, and weaponry. There wasn't a sense of any spirits, either.  He did vaguely scent steel of some kind, but he'd seen enough decorative armor in the corridors not to think much of it.  Was Vail trying to cover the scent of whatever protected him?

"Oh, but before you do,"  Vail raised one hand, fingers spread wide, each one gleaming with gemstones and rippling with protective energies. "I would like to demonstrate something I'm sure you'll find fascinating.”

"I highly doubt that."  Ryou hadn't found anything fascinating since his death and rebirth.  It was a little difficult to get strong emotions going now, other than his unending hatred for Haou. That one survived quite nicely.

Vail smiled. The expression didn't look any better than Haou's.  "Even if you don't, I will."  He closed his hand and in that moment, everything changed.  The tapestries on the walls faded away, as did the rugs underneath Ryou's feet.  Where they'd all been there now glowed sigils, shining bright and strong in magic more powerful than almost anything Ryou had ever seen before.  Energy he had no name for wrapped around him, dragging him down to his knees.  If he'd needed to breath, he wouldn't have been able to.  He tried to push himself up but he couldn't move at all, save for the tiniest twitches of his fingers.

He heard footsteps coming towards him.  Vail's hand tucked under his chin and raised it so their eyes met.  The dark sorcerer smiled down at him.

"You never noticed.  You were so busy mocking my 'defenses' that you didn't see what was really there - sigils especially carved and created for you.  Sigils that have one purpose - to keep you trapped so I can do this."

With his free hand he held up a slender collar of beaten silver.  Etched into it were more sigils.  Ryou hadn't put any time in studying magic, but something about it sent chills down his spine. 

"I'm well aware that Camula commanded you to obey only Haou.  I've spent months researching how to overcome that.  This is the result of my work.  I am older than she is.  There's little she can do that I can't find a way around."  Slowly he traced one finger over Ryou's throat.  "You don't have to worry.  I'm going to be a much better master for you than Haou.  In fact, you're not going to object to my first true command to you at all."  Glee rippled through every word he spoke.  "You are going to kill Haou.  Drain every ounce of his blood.  Let him die knowing it's at my hand, with a weapon he forged himself. Then everything he has will be mine."

Ryou couldn't honestly say he wasn't tempted.  But he didn't want to do it like this, not being someone else's slave.  He tried to shake his head, not that he thought that would do any good with how little he could move.  Slowly, clearing savoring every moment, Vail fastened the collar around his neck and clicked the latch closed.

"You're not going to be able to take this off.  I had the sigils crafted so that only someone who has the power of Light in their veins can take it off.  Either Hope or Creation."  Vail chuckled.  "And we all know that neither of those lines exist anymore, don't we."

Ryou found his head bending forward.  The imprisoning sigils hadn't really lessened their hold on him, but the collar seemed to allow for some limited movement.  Not enough so he could snap Vail's neck, unfortunately.  Vail stepped back.

"I don't think I'll release you just yet.  I'm going to enjoy having you here for a little while first.  I want you nice and hungry when you go after Haou so you won't be fed."  He smirked.  "I am terribly sorry for being such a bad host."

One thing that hadn't change about the room was the luxurious couch.  Vail settled himself back on it, before he gestured again.  This time Ryou found himself slowly moving forward.  The sigils' power kept him very slow and unable to do much more than shift himself forward until he all but collapsed beside the couch.  Vail snickered.

"I could release you from the sigils, you know.  But I like seeing you like this."  He tapped his fingertips together and a few moments later, the servant that had let Ryou into the mansion entered.  He didn't so much as look at Ryou, but focused all of his attention on Vail.  "Bring me my celebratory dinner."

"Yes, master."  The servant bowed low then scurried out without a backward glance.  Ryou hadn't expected one, either.  Vail's servants were terrified of him.  They always had been. Vail lounged back, satisfied, and glanced at Ryou.

"You didn't guess.  I told him to let you in.  All of my servants had those orders.  You were mine from the moment you entered my realm"  Vail chuckled, fingers caressing across Ryou's face possessively.  Haou had done the same thing.  This was a sensation Ryou knew very well, and hated very well.  "The only way you could have not fallen into my trap was to not come here at all.  And you'd never do that, would you?"

If he'd had any idea - but he was very used to the ways people tried to protect themselves from vampires and he knew how to deal with most of them.  The garlic and the wards were exactly what he'd expected.  He'd seen them so many times they were almost cliche at this point.  He'd overestimated himself - the same reason he'd fallen prey to Haou once before. He should have learned.  He'd looked forward to draining Vail dry and not being very hungry for the next night's "feasting", just on the faint hope that he'd not have to feed off any rebels that he knew.  Now he'd return hungry and targeted for Haou's blood.

Being undead didn't offer a lot of opportunities to learn.  Ryou determined if he got out of this, he would make a point to try.  His body would never change.  That truly didn't mean his mind couldn't. 

Sigil magic.  It worked well against him; perhaps he could find a way to make it work for him.  And he could make an effort to speak to the spirits that inhabited his deck.  Haou didn't allow him to duel often, but he was allowed to keep the deck.  Perhaps as a mocking memory of what had once been.  Haou was like that. 

It won't work the way Vail thinks it will.  He's protected, even against me.  Not only was Haou powerful enough to defend himself in his own right, there were the Death Duelists, Dark General Freed, the Fallen Angels - especially their leader Lucifer.  Ryou had seen them all battle in many different forms since he'd first entered Haou's service in that failed attempt to free Johan.  He knew what they could do and what they would do.  Not to mention, despite what Vail said about who could remove the collar, Ryou wouldn't be surprised if Haou would tear it off him anyway.  He was the incarnation of Destruction, and he'd tipped the balance of power in the world from life to death.  There wasn't much that he couldn't do if he chose to do it.

What worried him far more was what Haou might do to him because of this.  Haou wasn't the type to make a fair and honest judgment.  But he knew he'd find out far too soon what Haou would do because of this.

To Be Continued

Notes: I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I hope you enoyed reading it! Next chapter next week!

[akimmito]

Heroes are made by the path they choose

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Chapter 6

Jason walks the corridors of the mansion until reaching the entrance to the cave, he feels confident enough to return knowing that the only inhabitants of the mansion are Dick, Tim and Alfred. Bruce and his idea for Batman Inc. have him going around the world... except Paris, why hadn't anyone noticed what was happening in France? A little look at the country and the fucking Constitution has an exclusive item for heroes and vigilantes! Fully proven, the United States fears success. France developed a good relationship with its vigilantes and they are a kind of team without taking orders from each other, but recognizing the authority where it should be.

Certainly nobody expected it, because they are surprised to see it arrive. Dick half-dressed in Batman and Tim's costume completely put, only Alfred remains calm and chances are it's because he already knew it would be there. One must only accept that Alfred is omniscient.

"Hey. Did anyone know that Paris has vigilantes?"Outside the sentimental greetings or whatever, he goes straight to the point. What does it matter that this is the first time you've spoken to them in five years?

"No?"Dick questions confused, they have not looked at Paris in years because they have been calm… disturbing, if he think about it, especially the last seven years, no traffic network of any kind connects with Paris or France in general, that must have caught his attention more than it did. Although if there are vigilantes, It would explain a little. "Since when?"

"Seven years, apparently. I was researching with Roy and we found some information, but as you will see, I don't have the resources you have here. It caught my attention that, according to this boy from twitter, there is also a team of heroes and they are two separate groups, it seems."

That captures more attention from of them, Tim accepts the USB memory that Jason gives him and some images taken by phones and some captures from Parisian news appear. He manages to classify it, putting name with appearance.

"It seems that the leader is Suzaku, I estimate that he could be my age. No idea of their civil identity, they use a kind of transport with portals and I don't know if it's magic or technology. Probably the called Augur is the one in charge of taking them from one place to another, that them to reach the scenes immediately. "

"Interesting. Can you explain us?"Dick gives the free pass to his younger brother to update them with the information, they will not go to a city with vigilantes (he knows that it bothers when they appear in his without warning), but knowing the situation will allow them to be careful if they cross their paths.

"Insurance. Let's see, replacement, unfold all the photographs and I will explain each one of them. What I managed to discover through twitter, because it is the only source of constant information about them. The media says little or almost nothing, beyond mentioning them and thanking them for their services. "

Tim just obeys, saving his thoughts about it. He did know about the vigilantes, but he didn't see it necessary to inform anyone, he even spoke to one of them while he was there, Caelum explained the ways in which the city was working and how they reached a balance with the government, something that took them two years to build and they hoped they would not have third parties hanging around without warning them. Sure, he's not going to tell any of that.

"Well, Suzaku, leader, has magical knowledge, according to users she has put in place safeguards to protect places of interest such as the so-called Akuma Refuges, I don't know what they are, the hospital and health centers, in addition to some government buildings that can also serve as shelters. She's normally paired with Corvus and five days ago she appeared on patrol with Thuban, everyone speculating that he's her son because of dark hair. They talk about her being kind and lethal, emphasis on lethal. One user listed the martial arts styles she mastered, I counted twelve combined with a style much like yours, Dick. "

Dick smiles and looks with some interest at the short-haired little lady, the costume fits perfectly leaving an ideal mobility and reflects a lot that does tricks, there is nothing in the costume that can get in her way. He's curious if she uses any type of weapon, they are not visible to the naked eye.

"Corvus, he seems second in command, his costume reminds me of mine... he seems to have the mettle of a trained assassin. According to users, it's rare that he speaks and if he does it is to give orders, otherwise, they mention that he's cold and even rude, very distant, his weapons use real bullets, but it's rare that he goes to the extreme of using them. There are many strange theories where he's also paired in a romantic relationship with Suzaku, Paris really is strange..."

Tim just stares at the image of the blonde in a costume that mimics the forms of a military one very well and not surprised that Jason knows so much, Paris enjoys talking about her heroes and vigilantes, they are almost celebrities and  they resign themselves to being the professionals who are ignoring all comments on the internet as best as possible.

"Genbu is ruthless and tends to scold civilians when they are endangered by ridiculousness, close combat and needles, acupuncture type, but as an attack, it sleeps their limbs and makes them easier to handle. Byakko usually deals a lot with civilians, she always asks questions and jokes with them, she wears a kind of yellow half-helmet and is really the only thing with color in her entire costume. Seiryuu is... according to twitter, a soulless ex-killer who ignores civilians unless she threatens them with her sword because they have purposely put themselves in danger, they call her Ice Queen... they consider her worse than Corvus. "

Tim laughs, he can vouch for it. While he only spoke to Caelum, the other two were nearby and seemed to want to point their weapons at him. If it wasn't for Suzaku holding them by the shoulders, he thinks they would have been close to him threatening him, she was sweetly dangerous as honey with poison. Remembering that, he decides that it's better to give his own information.

"Before you continue, why are you telling us this? You could just go to Paris and see everything with your own eyes. ”He doesn't pretend to be rude, but it seems he was from the annoyed look Jason gives him.

"Because, genius, I don't have the resources to go there and, as I said at the beginning, neither to investigate them further from here. You should sleep more, your brain hardly works. "

"Jason..."

"Whatever, I'll continue..."

"The easiest to speak are Pyxis, Caelum and Black Metal. Despite the fact that Suzaku is kind, she turns the whole conversation in her favor and always has Corvus around, which makes you feel like you are going to be shot if you neglect for a second, the feeling is worse if Seiryuu is present..."

"Tim, how do you know that?" Dick is curious, especially since he never mentioned having met any team of heroes, but, if he's honest with himself, Tim is like a little version of Bruce and that man won't say anything until it is absolutely and strictly necessary that should know and only says a part. It's frustrating.

"I was in Paris while looking for Bruce and I met them, being attacked by criminals definitely caught their attention. The information on Twitter, although accurate, doesn't do them justice, Paris only sees what the MT lets them see, they have managed to pass next to Batman without him noticing, that is a great feat. And I was able to meet them only because they stopped wanting to know some things, it was basically an exchange of information. "

"I get it."

"Do you know anything about their identities?" Jason asks, is what makes him curious. Little problem inherited from Batman? Yeah, It definitely frustrates not knowing anything.

"Not. I only know what everyone knows, but at least one or more of them must have money, their costume were of incredible quality and I have only seen that level of protection in us. Bruce never skimped on expenses for the costumes, I guess they didn't either..."

They nod to his answer, Tim is excellent at noticing details, so they may consider him to be true information.

"I'm curious, but if they're doing a good job, it's not our business, Jay. We can go browse Paris, but we definitely shouldn't get into her business. "

"You want to see Suzaku, right?" Tim lets out a sigh, why did Jason have to mention the stunts? He didn't say it directly, but made the suggestion when buying his styles. No one can do half the tricks he do, that there is someone in the world who can accompany him in his inhuman stunts and stretches, he must be excited...  and that she has a tight costume and a beautiful body should only generate more expectation.

"I would like to meet her."

"Professionally or in bed?" Jason is more direct and hits just where Tim's thoughts were heading.

"You offends m…"

"Dick, you've had sex with half the women you know..." Tim cuts him off, it's no secret to anyone how many lovers he's had over the years. He's very surprised that he doesn't have a lost son out there, but that only shows how careful he's.

"Yes, man, even villains. Gives you no shame?" Dick snorts at him.

"You have no right, Jay. I remind you that you slept with Talia and two of my girlfriends... in my bed!"

"They could not resist my charms, I think it was your foult. And Talia, well, I have nothing in my defense. "Tim sighs and gets up from his seat, he considers that it’s better to go to bed, he will not be able to work with those two arguing and he could well use a couple of hours of sleep.

He just hopes that if they go to Paris, Dick doesn't really intend to have sex with Suzaku. It gives him the impression that Thuban doesn't get the nickname Demon Boy for nothing and if he's really her son, well maybe Dick won't come back alive from there.

___________

Tim Drake @TimDrakeW_

Can I change families? I want new brothers, please.

____________

Talia Al Ghul.

Damian never expected or wanted to see her again. Why is she here? He doesn't want her close. In the midst of his discomfort, he can only frown at his progenitor.

He writhes, letting himself fall to knees against the hard asphalt, he feels his head throb with pain and each breath is more difficult than the last, it's as if fire breaks through his nose and burns his lungs little by little.

"My son." He growls when he hears her. It's an Akuma attack, he reasons, she's not real. "At last I find you. "She's not real, right? " I will take you back home. "

"You're not my mother." He manages to speak despite feeling his throat tear with every word. "I was just a tool for you and Grandpa, they made it clear... they got rid of me. "He looks furiously at the figure of his... no, Talia. They knew it, he's totally convinced that they knew it...

"That is not true, what that woman told you... "

"My mother said nothing to me! You sent me to my death, it was impossible for me to survive even if I completed the mission... "

Damian still has dreams of that mission, of his planning, of everything he did up to the inevitable outcome in what turned out to be the enemy base with around fifty targets scattered throughout the small underground fortress.

He complains and a groan escapes his throat, if he were using the prodigy would it be different? He hears a deep voice beside him, but everything is suffocated by Talia's presence and the pain that breathing generates.

A few more minutes and he falls unconscious, his mind plunges into the haze of memories that still haunt him.

The full moon hangs over the night sky at its highest point, the lighting is sufficient to allow you to see the entire perimeter from the trees. Damian watches the assassins move around, standing guard, looking like they are waiting for an attack, and he wonders if they have discovered it, although from their posture they seem to expect something more frontal and not as stealthy as their plans. It doesn't matter, he will only go for his target and if someone gets in the way, he will kill him on the spot. It just needs to be fast and efficient.

He jumps out of the tree to head towards the fortress, taking advantage of the minute it takes to turn around, just in time, when he has climbed the roof, the guards are positioned at the place where he climbed. He go his way as his plan how to get them out of the way, it would be much better if he get rid of all the low-level organization.

He walks the corridors cautiously, he has disabled several targets and has hidden them, they are dead, of course, the surprise factor gave him that benefit. Everything is going well, as expected, the group are just a bunch of incompetents.

Damian manages to reach his target without a scratch, but can't find it where it should be. He clicks his tongue in disgust, it's a setback.

"I am offended that Ra’s believes that a child will be enough to kill me. Bad luck for you, now, be a good boy and serve as training for my new power."

Damian turns to the origin of the voice and sees a man in a lilac costume simulating the standard equipment of the League of Assassins, his skin seems to glow in pink tones and his eyes turned dark... he looked discordant, very dark and colorful at the same time. He frowns and attacks him, pulls out his swords, but... his attack doesn't touch him.

The entire room suddenly begins to spin and as he tries to recover, the traitor is on him with twin swords running through his abdomen. The blood gushes immediately when the swords are removed and this time the dizziness is from the blood being lost at alarming rates.

The last thing Damian sees is a woman dressed in black wearing a whip with silver inscriptions, using it to grab the traitor by the neck, even in low light he can recognize her blue eyes that seem to glow much more as the darkness swallows his consciousness.

_________

Ladybug come back @ LadybugHero_89

Paris became Tokyo-3? Will an Eva appear? Is this night a NGE and The Mist crack fic?

Bro don´t leave me alone @DDD_Lol214

I don't want to be in that fog, brother, the screams are terrifying.

MarcusGentleman @ TheMaster_091

I can see Ladynoir fall into the mist, hell, no one warned me that I would be experiencing an angel's siege.

____________

Ladynoir jumps on the huge rhombus, it's certainly peculiar and their could not believe that there is a person inside. They must break through the outer cortex to reach the real Akuma and her objective, therefore her powers are the best point of action. It's a real problem that he had a force field.

"An AT field! I can't believe it. ”He manages to hear Max over the communications before falling straight into the mist. She can also listen to others talk.

"What is an AT field?" Kagami almost growled at the Akuma's troublesome abilities.

"It's basically a shield... which is troublesome, I think only the cataclysm could go through it if it has the same defensive properties as the anime."

"Perfect. I'll give the new Hawkmoth points for achieving a new level of annoyance. "Chloe complains from the roof of the Luxembourg Palace, everyone is analyzing the situation, but seeing that he has a shield that they won't be able to get through, they just have to wait for Marinette to recover… what is taking a time.

"It seems the mist is a problem." Nathaniel exposes everyone's concerns. If it were a normal mist, Ladynoir would be back on the rooftops by now.

"Many civilians report screaming in the mist, some liken it to a scene from a horror movie..." Kagami reviews the app with her yo-yo, looking at all the testimonies they are giving. That helps them determine the Akuma's powers.

"Ilusions?"Nathaniel questions.

"Probably." Felix agrees.

"What if it's not mist?" Luka questions, capturing everyone's attention, who wait for him to continue. "It could be a type of gas, they should collect a little and analyze it. That way they can use the filters on their weapons and not run the same fate as Ladynoir. "

And as they try to regroup, on the streets, just below the Akuma. Marinette meets Talia Al Ghul's voice, the suit protects her enough not to be so affected by the mist, but she still feels pain when breathing.

If you think you can steal my son, you are wrong. I'll take him back.

Marinette ignores her, it's just a voice in the middle of a mist caused by an Akuma. Yes, she fears that Damian decides to go with Talia or his biological father (even though the boy has not told her who he is), but she's in the middle of a battle and she's no longer girl, she has trained her mind and her fears will not be what stops her. However, without the cane, she should run towards the buildings, but between the voice and the pain when breathing, it becomes difficult.

He prefers to be with his REAL family.

She continues to move towards the closest building, it's incredible that the mist doesn't let her see the Akuma, but that's the way it's. It seems like a world apart... and seeing that it's not really moving in the direction she expects, she begins to think that it's.

He will never love you. You are not his real mother.

Marinette, surprisingly, stumbles and falls. She complains, she had spent years without tripping and much longer without falling by her own feet. When she looks up, she's surrounded by a body, she holds her breath, they are the people who were close when the mist appeared and without any protection, they only perished being chased by their fears.

It's beautiful to see, these scenarios are the ones that Damian loves.

Marinette blocks her voice, ignoring it. If there are civilians here… Damian should have been close and if he couldn't get away, he was trapped… Oh, no.

She gets up again and, trembling a little because they are all dead, begins to search, hoping that she doesn't meet the body of her little boy.

But she's not the bearer of the black cat for nothing, she sees it, her black suit with the details in green and runs towards him, stumbling again and falling to her knees in front of him. She takes him in her arms, he barely breathing.

"Oh honey." She hugs him to her chest and touches her communications. "Augur?"

"Oh, what a relief you communicate. We need you to break through the Akuma's defenses. "

"I understand, but you open a portal, please. The mist doesn't allow me to find high points and I lost the cane... also, I have Thuban here."

"Okay, I'll bring you to the MT for Plagg to eat something before you use his power."

"That would be fine. "

A portal opens in front of her and advances as fast as she can to avoid the mist passing through its, the difference is felt when she breathing. She drops down next to the transformation, hugging Damian tighter. Longg comes out of a hiding place inside the costume.

"I try talking to him, if he transformed he would last longer... but it seems he was looking at his birth mother." The little dragon looks with concern at his current owner and then looks at she with resolution. "Combine my prodigy with Plagg's, my beams must be strong enough to cross that field, so you won't leave him a chance to replace his shield."

"Okay, let's do that."

____________

Just Robert @PoorButterflies

District VI is a disaster. Suddenly I no longer miss Gabriel Agreste as a villain, he was not so creative with his evil.

Dick Grayson @TheFlyingGrayson

It seems that a visit to Paris is in sight.

Roy @RoyHarperQ

@TheFlyingGrayson I'm not surprised that you go.

Jason @IAmYisus_XD

@TheFlyingGrayson @RoyHarperQ See, Dick? Everyone knows your ways.

Polaris Vermilion @Elgato_Solaris

Is one of @BruceWayneOfficial's adoptive boys coming to Paris? Oh oh. Hey, @TheFlyingGrayson! You must know @MarieLenoir goes the same way as your adoptive father haha

[ploppythespaceship]

So I watched the Artemis Fowl movie...

Usually I make a list of good things and bad things in my reviews, but in this I literally do not have one good thing to say. Artemis Fowl fails as an adaptation, and it fails as a movie. It’s almost incomprehensible how terrible this film is -- Percy Jackson looks competent by comparison. So instead of my list, I’m gonna just talk about why it sucked.

The Plot

The movie combines the plots of the first two books in the series, with a few elements from later books tossed in for good measure. In the first book, Artemis learns of the existence of fairies and takes one hostage -- Captain Holly Short -- in order to extort them. In the second book, Artemis’s father has been captured, prompting Artemis to team up with Holly to rescue him.

The problem with combining these two is that they are fundamentally different stories. The latter relies greatly on the former to be well set up. Additionally, both are rather busy stories that need time and focus to do them well. The tension of Artemis holding Holly captive works because it lasts for a significant portion of the book. The development of Artemis teaming up with Holly works because they have hated each other for over a book now. This does not happen in the film. Everything is rushed, leading to a jumbled mess that barely makes any sense.

Artemis’s father is captured by Opal Koboi (a villain from the later books who does little to nothing in this film), who demands that Artemis give her something called the Aculos (a mcguffin that the movie made up). Artemis then captures Holly, and demands the Aculos as ransom. But when the fairies have no interest in giving him this ransom, Artemis teams up with Holly. Because it turns out her father, Beechwood, stole the Aculos years ago, and Artemis’s father knew Beechwood. The fairies send in a dwarf named Mulch to break in, and he locates the Aculos in the Fowl Manor. Mulch then teams up with Artemis, and there’s a long sequence where everyone fights a troll. Once that’s done, Holly uses the Aculos to rescue Artemis’s father. The end.

If you’re thinking that this plot makes no sense, that’s because it doesn’t. Information is presented at the strangest times, making things impossible to follow. Not to mention that character allegiances are constantly shifting for no discernible reason. There is no reason for Holly to trust Artemis, or vice versa -- yet they declare themselves “forever friends” before the end of the film. I can’t even tell you why Mulch sticks around, he just does.

The movie is also terribly paced. Despite only being ninety minutes long, it feels like it drags on for an eternity. Alternating between Artemis and Holly in the opening creates a distinct lack of tension, making it impossible to stay invested in any one thing for too long. Topping the whole thing off is the movie’s framing device -- the story is narrated by Mulch, as part of an interrogation that’s never properly explained. This setup feels so unnecessary, and it’s actually jarring every time we cut back to Mulch growling his exposition at the camera.

The Characters & Actors

I cannot think of one character that has not been butchered by the writing, the acting, or both. All of them are terrible. And across the board, the acting isn’t terribly good.

Artemis Fowl

The titular character gets it the worst of everyone. In the book, he’s a criminal mastermind. He’s cold, calculating, and eerie. He behaves so much like an adult that it unsettles people. He isn’t at all interested in typical child things, instead focusing on his own lofty goals. He’s an utter genius, learning the existence of fairies all on his own and coming up with the plan to capture one himself. Though he’s sympathetic in his own way, he’s also not presented as a terribly good person. As a protagonist, he’s almost unlikable -- it’s not until later books that he learns to have friends and become a better person.

But in the movie, Artemis is about as generic a fantasy film protagonist as you can get. He’s a more or less happy child who adores his father. He likes surfing and skateboarding. He doesn’t learn about fairies on his own -- his father tells him about them. And while he’s shown to be intelligent, it’s nowhere near the genius level he should be at. He’s so watered down and uninteresting that he’s unrecognizable as the same character. Even accepting that this isn’t the book character, he’s just boring to watch. There’s nothing interesting or compelling about this random kid. Ferdia Shaw’s performance doesn’t help -- while I’ve certainly seen worse child actors, I’ve also seen far, far better.

It’s worth mentioning that some of the best moments in the books are when something rattles Artemis so badly that the walls come down and he acts like a scared little kid. These moments work because they’re rare. This movie tosses them at you left and right. I don’t know who this kid is, but it ain’t Artemis Fowl.

Holly Short

In the books, Holly is an adult woman working an adult job -- she’s a police officer. She’s also described as having medium dark skin, with the phrases “olive” and “nut brown” being used most often. So the decision to cast a fourteen year old white actress... it boggles the mind. In fairness, Lara McDonnell did a decently good job in the role. But there wasn’t much role to do a good job with. Holly is a very bland character, with all of her drive and fire from the book simply gone. There’s also a backstory tossed in about her father, Beechwood Short, which is implemented in the strangest way and only comes up when it’s strictly relevant.

Domovoi Butler

Oh, Butler. Artemis’s bodyguard slash best friend slash pseudo father figure. A tremendously important character in the books who is barely in the movie at all. His role is so cut down that it’s absurd. I guess Nonso Anonzie was doing a fine job, but he was hardly there enough for me to tell. All indication that this man is a tremendously important figure in Artemis’s life is simply gone.

Edited to add: I didn’t initially think of anything wrong with Butler being a black man for the movie, but after seeing some complaints from others... yeah I think making a character from a family that’s been servants to a rich white family for generations now into a black man is uhhhhhhhhhh. It’s questionable.

Juliet Butler

Butler’s niece, Juliet, is in the movie so little that I kept forgetting she was there. Which is a damn shame, because I actually really liked Tamara Smart from The Worst Witch already and thought she was an excellent choice for Juliet. In the book, Juliet is the only other child around, and about the only kid that Artemis will remotely consider an equal. She’s great to balance him out and keep him more grounded. In the movie? Eh. She has a handful of lines.

Mulch Diggums

As far as being accurate to the book, Mulch is probably the closest. Though the decision to make a dwarf character not actually short boggles the mind... my main complaint is that Josh Gad likes to improvise his way through scenes, and his style of comedy is pretty grating. It gets old, fast. Throw in the fact that he’s also growling all of his lines to sound different, and you have a character that’s nearly unwatchable.

Julius Root

Speaking of growling all your lines! Commander Root is played by Dame Judi Dench in this movie, changing the character’s gender. I really don’t mind that, and the characterization is largely unchanged. What I do mind is Dench’s delivery. All of her lines are growled in such a low rumble that it sounds like she’s been smoking for eighty years. It becomes impossible to take anything she says or does seriously when she’s speaking like that. Josh Gad even pokes fun at it in a scene with the two of them, saying that they sound like “hippos with a throat infection” -- the only line to get a chuckle out of me.

Artemis Fowl, Sr.

To round it off, we have Colin Farrell as Artemis’s father. And... he’s here, I guess. Farrell mostly sounds bored in all of his scenes and it’s incredibly easy to forget about him.

Angeline Fowl

But wait! A fan of the book may ask. What about Artemis’s mother? How did the movie do her? Surely they didn’t forget Artemis’s mother! And my friends, I regret to inform you that the movie did, in fact, forget Artemis’s mother. She isn’t present, nor is she even mentioned. A major part of the books, a major force to drive Artemis’s character, just... gone. Lovely.

The Production Design

The best word I can think of is uninspired. Most things are serviceable, but unimpressive, leading to the film looking very generic. I was especially disappointed with the look of the fairy underground. A combination of magic and technology has a lot of potential to look visually interesting. Instead, the fairy police just look like the E.L.F.S. from The Santa Clause. And once you’ve seen it, you’ll never unsee it. So you’re welcome.

Additionally, the action scenes tend to be poorly shot and edited. Everything is extremely fast paced with a freely floating camera -- this makes things nearly impossible to follow. Several times I said out loud “what just happened?” because I legitimately could not tell where things were in relation to each other, and who was attacking, who was being attacked, etc. Thankfully there aren’t a lot of action scenes, but the few that do exist are pretty bad.

There are also several sequences of Mulch unhinging his jaw to burrow through the ground. In the book, it’s mildly amusing, but it doesn’t at all translate to film. It’s horrifying in every sense. The CG looks rubbery and fake, and Josh Gad’s performance doesn’t at all sell it. If there were any change from the books I would actually welcome, it’s this one. There are plenty of other ways he could dig. But nope. They stuck to that one. For some reason.

In Conclusion

This is easily the worst book to film adaptation I have ever seen. Please don’t watch it unless you’re a fan of the book and want a laugh.

[catie-does-things]

On My Way to Steal Yo...Seat: Ember Island Players & Zutara Shipbaiting

(Or: The best time for a Zutara Rant(TM) is all the time.)

Ah, Zutara, the ship of dreams, technically sunk ten years ago but still afloat in countless shipper hearts. The ways in which the creators of AtLA did the fans dirty on this one could be an entire discussion unto itself, but right now I want to focus on a particular episode, which I think suggests that, when it came to the show’s romantic relationships, the showrunners’ priorities were not where they should have been.

That episode is The Ember Island Players. And the trouble all starts with one little comedic moment.

An extremely awkward moment they went out of the way to include.

Before we dive in, let’s take a step back and establish our priorities here. I’m not going to use this post to make claims about secret Zutara subtext, or even argue the merits of Zutara as a ship, really. Conversely, to the extent that I critique Kataang, it’s going to focus strictly on writing choices and leave aside the question of whether Aang and Katara are romantically suited for each other as characters or not. For the purposes of this post, we will take as granted that Kataang was the intended endgame pairing from the beginning, and romantic Zutara was never intended at all, and look at how the showrunners went about handling that.

(under a cut because woah this got long)

The Ember Island Players is an entire episode built around the show parodying itself and its fandom. In such an episode, it would be almost impossible to avoid at least alluding to the ship wars, which for those of you not part of the fandom back then, were absolutely massive. (And encouraged by the show’s promotion - but that’s another story.) Whatever Bryke’s intentions, the Zutara phenomenon had grown so influential that Zuko was perceived by fans as Aang’s main rival for Katara’s affections - in spite of never being presented as such in the show. That’s begging for a joke or two, isn’t it?

So before the parody play even starts, we get the moment in the gif above, a joke which is painfully dragged out by Aang shyly pointing out that he wanted to sit next to Katara, and Zuko’s utter obliviousness as to why. (Katara herself shows no reaction to any of this fumbling - perhaps unintentionally foreshadowing some of the problems to come.) Aang relents, and sits on the other side of Zuko.

In practical terms, there are two things that justify this gag beyond a bit of awkward humor. The first is that subsequent moments in the episode where the characters comment on the play involve both Katara and Zuko interacting with each other, and Zuko and Aang interacting with each other, making it most effective for Zuko to be seated between Katara and Aang for blocking purposes. 

Aang and Katara don’t interact much during the play. More unintentional foreshadowing? You be the judge.

The other reason is that this moment of making a fuss over seating arrangements sets up early on what is actually going to be a significant theme addressed in the episode - the question of whether Zuko is going to figuratively come between Aang and Katara the way he literally does here. And make no mistake, the episode is very concerned with this question.

After a brief spoof of Jetara that gets only a mild reaction of embarrassment from Katara, the first time the play-within-the-show really dives into shipping is its sendup of ridiculous Zutara expectations of the crystal cave scene in The Crossroads of Destiny. Actress!Katara declares the Avatar to be like a little brother, professes her attraction to actor!Zuko, and the two embrace. This is, of course, absurd for these characters at this point in the story, but to be fair, it’s a pretty accurate rendition of the wildest Zutara fandom predictions for the episode. The silliest of enemies-to-lovers tropes have always had their place in Zutara fandom. Capture!fic was very much a thing. Haha, it’s good for us all to laugh at ourselves sometimes. 

Pictured: Artist’s reconstruction of Zutara fan fic c. December 1, 2006

Aang, however, is not laughing. After growing increasingly frustrated with his own portrayal in the play, this scene makes him so angry that he storms out of the theater. It’s clear that, to Aang, this is no joking matter - and that means it’s quickly going to become more serious for the audience as well, as we soon move into what might be the episode’s most controversial scene, and certainly the one that has the largest dramatic impact on the actual narrative of the show. The tone of this scene is a stark contrast to the majority of the light-hearted, self-referential, tongue-in-cheek episode.

When Katara goes to find Aang, he confronts her about what her actress counterpart said, and we finally, after fifty-six episodes, get a scene where Aang and Katara directly talk about their relationship. This is a big moment, not just because it’s a weighty scene in the middle of a fluff episode, but also because it’s a huge opportunity to push forward the relationship that, remember, we’re accepting as intended endgame all along. The writers know Aang and Katara are going to end up together. They’ve known it for years. After playing coy about Katara’s feelings for nearly three full seasons, they must have been dying to get to this moment. 

This isn’t a shy kiss-or-die scenario. (Let it never be said that Zutara has the monopoly on silly tropes.) This isn’t a heat of the moment, one-sided pre-battle kiss that will be ignored later because of more pressing concerns. This is the chance for these characters to have a frank conversation about where they stand and what the nature of their relationship should be.

Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t go well.

Obviously we can’t have any actual Kataang resolution in this episode - we have to save that for the finale. Fair enough. So what do we do instead? We muddy the waters a bit more, make things even more complicated to resolve in the four episodes we have left, after giving this relationship little to no serious development in the previous fifty-six episodes.

Katara dismisses what her actress counterpart said in the play, but admits she’s confused about her own feelings. When Aang tries to kiss her again, she’s upset by it and storms away. This is the first and last time we ever see Katara address the possibility of her romantic feelings for Aang, until they kiss in the final seconds of the very last episode, her confusion apparently resolved off-screen.

Zuko isn’t mentioned in this scene, but from the perspective of showrunners trying to set up Kataang and unexpectedly confronting a popular rival ship they never intended, in the context of the previous scenes discussed above, this having Katara be dismissive of the play’s portrayal of her also seems like a pretty clear dismissal of Zutara. In fact, arguably this scene is a better casual dismissal of Zutara than it is a setup of the last-minute Kataang endgame.

And then, when the gaang returns to the theater for the final act of the play with the seating arrangements now reshuffled, we get one last awkward reaction shot of Aang and Katara when their stage counterparts declare their platonic affection for each other. And look who’s also in the frame for some reason.

Since they’ve all left the theater and come back, Zuko doesn’t need to be sitting next to Katara at this point. 

So the overall effect of the “shipping” subplot of this episode comes across as the writers assuring us that Zutara is silly, and that in spite of fandom expectations Zuko is not a romantic rival for Aang, while at the same time maintaining enough ambiguity between Katara and Aang so as not to preempt the resolution of them getting together in the finale.

What’s bizarre about it is...they didn’t actually have to do any of that? Within the world of the show, nobody had ever raised the possibility of Zuko and Katara being romantically involved prior to this episode. If it was never going to happen, it wasn’t something that needed to be addressed. Instead of taking this opportunity to give us reasons why Katara is going to get together with Aang - perhaps the review of their past adventures helps her clarify some of her own feelings, while still leaving her reservations about the timing? - this subplot seems more interested in trying to tell us that she’s not going to get together with Zuko. 

This is writing to the fandom, rather than writing to the narrative. From a storytelling perspective, it’s a waste of time. If the Zuko/Katara/Aang triangle is just a product of silly fans and doesn’t actually exist in the show, then there’s no need to make such a big deal of it. Rather than a throwaway gag, the seating shenanigans and dramatic weight given to Aang’s insecurities make the on-stage Zutara romance a central feature of the episode. There was no reason this had to be the case. 

So why was it?

Welcome to the realm of speculation.

One possibillity is that the writers of this episode (or Bryke themselves, directing them) simply got carried away with spoofing the fandom and lost sight of the actual narrative work they should have been doing. This is a case of bad priorities and poor judgement, but it’s fairly innocent.

The other possibility, and the less innocent one, is that it was deliberate shipbaiting. The shipping subplot seems meant to dismiss the possibility of Zutara in hindsight, working under the assumption that Kataang was always intended and Zutara never was - but it obviously wasn’t read that way by Zutara fandom at the time. With Zuko and Katara’s dramatic reconciliation in The Southern Raiders coming immediately prior to this episode, now the question of romantic Zutara is introduced and Katara’s feelings for Aang are less clear than Kataang shippers had assumed? Sounds pretty promising for Zutara when you look at it that way.

Was this actually intentional? As mentioned earlier, promotional material for the show did outright encourage the idea of the love triangle, even though the show itself hadn’t before. If the idea of this subplot wasn’t explicitly to give Zutara shippers false hope and set them up for disappointment, it may yet have been the last effort to throw kerosene on the fire of the ship wars before the show’s finale. 

It’s hard to believe that fan reactions wouldn’t have been considered when writing such a metatextual episode that engaged with the fandom so directly, but I do hate to assign malice as a motive where incompetence is a suitable explanation, so let’s assume that if this was the case, Bryke thought it was all in good fun. It still reflects poor judgement and priorities, because egging on drama among your fans shouldn’t be more important than developing the narrative you’re actually trying to tell.

So whatever the reasoning, in this episode, on the eve of the show’s finale, it seems that dissing Zutara was more important than developing Kataang.

YMMV on whether this is better or worse than the finale itself, where developing Zutara was more important than developing Kataang.

[mysticsparklewings]

I’m Not Dead‪

I'm not laughin', You're not jokin' I'm not dead I only dress that way Out nowhere take me out there Far away and save me from my Self-destruction, hopeless for you Sing a song for California --My Chemical Romance, "Boy Division" ____ Have you heard?? Have you heard the news?? Well if not, I'm gonna tell ya: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE IS BACK, BABY!!! :D On Halloween, we got the announcement that they will be playing a show in Los Angeles, California on December 20th. And just a few days ago we got the news that they're also going to New Zealand, Australia, and Japan which basically confirms to me they're doing so sort of tour, whether they actually call it that or not. There's still a lot we don't know for sure; whether this is just a one-time reunion tour or their official comeback tour, if we'll be getting new original music both at the shows and available for download/purchase or if they're just going to redo their existing music and covers, if it's only going to be the main four that were there at the end or if there will be some of the other members that were in and out over the years rejoining them...Where all they're going to go on this tour...the list goes on. But! The important thing, at least to me, is that they came back at all. Six years. Six years we've waited and hoped and prayed, been let down by false rumors and speculation...And now it's actually happening. I just... Hence why I had to make an art piece celebrating the occasion and as an excuse to talk about it. (I figure if I'm going to dump my opinions on the internet I might as well make some art to go with them. Sue me. ) Originally, I was planning on making something more along the lines of true fan art, as this is more pseudo fan art here, but I just couldn't settle on one good idea that I felt really comfortable pursuing. Although I am still considering doing an updated (or at least colored in) version of my Killjoys, Make Some Noise! (lineart) I did a couple of years ago...we'll see. Anyway. Since we did get the news on Halloween, it's worth noting that originally I'd been debating if I wanted to do any makeup this year at all or just slide on a mask since my only plans were going to Krispy Kreme, who was offering a free donut if you showed up in costume. But after the news broke, my decision was made for me. I had to. MCR isn't strictly associated with skeletons/skulls, as has become my preferred Halloween costume, but The Black Parade, their second album, does have a little skeleton as the leader of the marching band, and the band members did wear skeleton/skull inspired makeup during that time. Admittedly this year's makeup wasn't nearly as involved or elaborate as what I've done in years' past, but it beats last year's absolutely nothing. I ended up taking a few pictures to preserve the look, as I always do even though I rarely take photos of myself, and I would decide to draw one of them where I was trying to do this face that Gerard (the frontman and lead singer of the band) has made on a several occasions; this wide-eyed intense stare. Partly because this, I'm sure, is very close to my actual face when I heard the news that they're back, the makeup was inspired by them anyway, and also because it pairs very well with one of my favorite lines from my favorite song by them. Said line being, obviously, "I'm not dead I only dress that way," from Boy Division, as cited at the top of the description. If I'm being completely truthful, I can't even really put my finger on what it is about Boy Division specifically that makes it my favorite, as I've yet to hear an MCR song I truly do not like, but I think there's something in the lyrics of the full song that just sells it for me in combination with the high-energy music. But whatever the case, it is my favorite nonetheless. Beyond that though, it's really hard to place the rest of them in any coherent order because, at least to my ears, they're all really great. Anyway. So I went about drawing my face, erring slightly more on the realistic side than usually (but obviously not too much) in hopes of capturing the facial expression. Which, it's pretty good, but I do think it could've been a little better. I think my biggest problem was getting the eyebrows a mouth right, and I'm still not sure they're quite there since my real eyebrows are pretty translucent and the mouth was hard to balance between looking logical and more neutral than sad/angry. And I think maybe the proper expression was a little more apparent in the sketch, but it's pretty normal to lose some feeling between the sketch and the final product so that I won't discount too much. After that, I had to take a break from the drawing to think about how to color it in any style it and everything. I ended up transferring the sketch to Mixed Media paper after deciding I wanted to use alcohol markers as a base but not knowing if I'd need to adjust it with colored pencil and/or other mediums on top or not, and I did the lines with my Faber Castell Polychromos once I felt like just black lines would be too harsh and thinking colored lines would be better. Plus, the Polychromos are very non-reactive to water, so if I really wanted to I could add watercolor or something water-activated without having to worry about the lines getting messed up. I did not consider how the Polychromos would react to the alcohol markers, but other than one or two spots where the top layer of pencil kinda dissolved after some heavy layering (which was easily fixed by just going back over the lines in that area again really quickly), fortunately, it worked out okay. Although sweet sparkles I swear it took at least twice as long to actually do the lines as opposed to normal between having to apply enough pressure to get the right amount of color down and working on the differences inline weight.   Anyway. I was a little worried about some of the shading/effects I'd be doing with the markers, but I think I did alright with it. This mixed media paper (Strathmore 400 series for anyone who cares) is nice and thick, so I had plenty of room to layer up and blend as I needed to get the look I was going for. This came in especially handy around the eyes and on the nose when I told myself to at least try and get the colors like the photo before cheesing it and just using straight (or nearly) black. The only area that I think came out a little rough is really the skin, mainly the forehead. But that has more to do with 1. There isn't much contrast on the face in the photo so I didn't want to take it too far in the drawing and 2. I think I may have started slightly too dark for skin this pale. I realize that's a weird thing to say, but when you're pale as a ghost like I am, you'd be surprised how easy that is to do. And to be fair, I probably could've tried to adjust that with colored pencils, and my original plan was to add some white pencil on top in the areas of the face where a highlight would naturally hit (forehead, bridge of the nose, cheekbones, etc.)  But by the time I got done with the markers, I honestly felt like it was nice enough without any additional pencil that I thought it might be best to just leave it alone. Since I still have the original drawing, my thoughts may change on that and I could update this eventually, but for now, my decision stands. On the other hand, I was actually pretty pleased with how the hair turned out once it was colored. That is until I scanned it in. I don't know why, but the darkest shadows in the hair were too dark and too bluish on the scan, despite everything else looking fairly color-accurate. I fiddled with the scanner settings for a few minutes to try and fix it, but it became quickly apparent there wasn't much to be done about it at the level. Which meant I had to try making the adjustments in Photoshop. Now, I've done my fair share of scan-fixing, photo editing, and just color adjustments on digital art, but for the life of me I could not get things to work the way I wanted them to here. It became to the point I'm starting to suspect if the actual true-to-life shades of purple of the drawing are just really hard or even impossible for computers to capture and/or create accurately. Fluorescent colors fall in that category, surely they're not the only ones. In the end, after more time than I bothered to document messing around with settings and adjustments, and firmly decided I was not going to essentially manually re-color/shade the hair digitally, I tried the only other thing I could think to do. I took the hair, as I had been for all my adjustments since the rest of the colors were fine, on a separate layer and took all the saturation out so I was left with just the gray values. And I noted while I was at that point that it didn't seem to be an issue of the contrast between the shadows and the rest of the hair. The transition looked perfectly acceptable in grayscale. Then, I added a color layer on top of that one, clipped it to only show up on the hair, and changed it to an "overlay" layer so that I would get the values from the gray layer, but colored purple. It did take a couple of tries to get the right shade of purple for the color layer, and I'm sure it's still not 100% accurate to the IRL drawing, but it's a heck of a lot closer than it was. And this gets even weirder when you consider that just a few days before I made this drawing, I made a different one for a friend where I used the exact same marker colors for the hair, blended in almost exactly the same manner, on the same paper, and it didn't have this problem when I scanned that one in. I have never in my life. Anyway. The accessories actually didn't give me much trouble in drawing or coloring. Admittedly, I did tone down how many feathers and stuff are actually on the tiny hat for my own sanity's sake, and while I did my best with the lace on the choker, I don't have a ton of practice with drawing lace like this so I'm sure it could be improved. Although I did decide to color both of those areas (what I didn't draw/fill in with the pencils at the line stage) with a super dark blue-violet instead of a gray or straight black for the purpose of not totally hiding the linework I'd put in and to make it just slightly more dynamic. Which I think was a good call as it seems to tie in pretty nicely with the grayish tones on the face. Other than that though, I did try to stay fairly accurate with my color choices, and I think I did pretty well with that, all things considered. (Despite having a much larger selection than I did just a few months ago, I do still need a wider selection of alcohol markers in some areas just for the sake of color accuracy and smooth transitions.) Once my face was done, then came the text. I searched for a while, hoping to find an MCR appropriate font that I could hopefully add by hand, but my search came up empty. I did find one I really liked the look of though, called "Miserable." So I scanned the drawing in and after the aforementioned hair struggles, I got to play with the placement and structure of the words. I knew I kinda wanted something that just has that "I'm a logo/t-shirt emblem" kind of feel, and in the end, I think I got that. But I do think I could've planned out the drawing itself a little bit better in terms of the space left to fit the words into. I really didn't do myself a lot of favors on that one.   It has its problems, but I'm still really actually kind of proud of how this turned out...and that's really all I have to say about it. Eh, maybe I'm just really happy because I know why I made it in the first place. Now if MCR can just come within 1-2 hours of my location so I can actually go see them...please... ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[arcanalogue]

Thelem-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Due to strictly enforced gender norms, I wasn’t allowed to be obsessed with the original She-Ra cartoon. I could play with a friend’s sister’s She-Ra toy, but I never dared ask for my own. 

That’s partly why Netflix’s remake She-Ra and the Princesses of Power means so much to me. Not only is it a version I can can openly discover and geek out over, but the characters’ wide range of age, gender expression and body type makes the fantasy realm of Etheria into a playground for the imagination -- one makes fans like me feel specifically included, even if it’s mainly aiming to entertain kids. 

Any storytelling that draws from mystical currents will end up echoing familiar tropes and ideas from our own world. Attempts to portray existing magickal practices accurately almost always disappoint, as they did in Netflix’s other “princess of power” story, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (which is really entertaining nevertheless). 

Isn’t it funny how the stories which offer up a wealth of artistic inspiration for magic often prove more durable than those depicting “real-life” magic use? The more abstract the characters’ powers are, the more possibilities we see in exploring them ourselves, and the more permission we feel to make something truly our own.

In the new She-Ra’s case (and in similar shows, like Steven Universe), magic is married to technology in a way that kids watching today will intrinsically understand, aligning neatly with post-modern chaos magick traditions. 

In terms of old-school stuff, the Princesses’ magic is elemental in nature -- an expression of the soul of their homeworld, and a tool for regulating planetary harmony. The show departs from the classical elements of Earth, Air, Fire, Water, etc., which is fine, because their planet is not our planet, and its properties are still being revealed... to the characters, as well as to us. 

But let’s not overlook that the very idea of “Princesses of Power” is old-school, and has a deep footprint in the history of tarot -- particularly the one crafted by the Dark Lord himself, Aleister Crowley.

Before Crowley’s Thoth deck, the tarot’s court cards historically consisted of King, Queen, Knight, and Page -- a total sausage-fest, though Pamela Colman Smith brought out a wonderful androgyny in her illustration of the Pages (and in many of her deck’s other figures), which seems to even out the gender spectrum a bit, and is partly why the deck remains appealing to new users over a century later.

Conceived in the 1930s, Crowley’s court consists of a Knight, a Queen, a Prince, and a Princess. This “modern” twist must have seemed terribly progressive at the time, dethroning the King and elevating the court’s lowest ranking member (a page is just a humble servant of the royal court), consecrating that role as female.

You could write an entire book about the gender problems in Thelema (the religion founded by Crowley, which remains popular today). In fact, that book probably exists already, and contemporary Thelemites are continually exploring and re-examining the way our evolving social and scientific views of gender mesh with their religion’s core beliefs. 

For now, all that’s important is that Crowley took a humble servant and elevated her to a PRINCESS OF POWER. 

The four roles in the tarot’s court each correspond to a different classical element, the Page/Princess’s being Earth. And each of these four earthy figures is herself an expression of the classical elements: Fire of Earth (Wands), Water of Earth (Cups), Air of Earth (Swords), and Earth of Earth (Pentacles, or in Crowley’s case, Disks).

Exploring these cards in an earlier lesson, I wrote:

“The Page’s defining quality is not sex but immaturity, a word which inspires unnecessarily negative associations. Let’s not forget the raw potential we find in the young and/or untested, or the curiosity and vivacity they may bring to their work.  As such, each of the four Pages represents a latent untamed force for change.”

What I love about Lady Frieda Harris’s illustrations in the Thoth deck is that the Princesses are all portrayed as doing something. These images could be pulled from the opening credits of She-Ra. 

Think about that: she drew them as superheroes. The 1930s were the period when these kinds of heroes began to proliferate in comics, and Superman himself debuted in 1938 -- the same year Crowley and Harris began working on the Thoth deck. 

Like She-Ra’s heroines, our tarot Princesses owe all their strength (as well as their weakness) to their signature elements, though in Crowley’s world there is a clear elemental hierarchy, due to spiritual ideas imparted by Western esotericism. As such, the Princess of Disks (Earth of Earth) sits at the bottom of the totem pole. 

This kind of hierarchical thinking (and binary gender) is exactly what drives many people away from traditional forms of magick. I sympathize, and agree that we should never stop challenging these ideas. 

However, what really we see in the Thoth deck is a setup for an archetypal story in which the low are made high; in which Princesses serve as the catalyst for changes that transform reality itself. 

Just like Ace -- the lowest number in the minor arcana, but a symbol of tremendous power -- the Princess represents a place to build upward and outward from. Though she mirrors the queen in her gender, it’s the King/Knight she reflects in her agency and authority.

“The Princess is the throne of her Ace,” observes Thelemic teacher and author Lon Milo Duquette. In his book The Chicken Qabalah, he writes at length about the importance of Princesses: “They are positioned at the lowest end of our elemental universe, but they also embody the foundation of our universe.”

Awakening and exploring our Princess nature will gradually help us “escape the prison of matter” and “live in the bliss of the highest world.”

He even presents a diagram that shows how you can use the Princess and Ace-through-Ten cards to divide up the globe -- a handy tool for readings involving a geographical component.

In the Netflix show, Adora is offered a very similar view of her world by First-Ones avatar Light Hope, who reveals how the Princesses -- each an expression of their respective element -- are all interconnected as regulators of Etheria’s holistic balance. 

Of course, this is just an abstract diagram of Etheria’s actual geography. Entrapta’s model in the same scene shows that these centers of power are just as unevenly dispersed on Etheria as they are on our own planet.

Duquette’s book offers a qabalistic Creation myth based on these feudal archetypes, which may explain why royal figures still play such a prominent role in our storytelling. 

“The you that you think is you is not you,” he explains. “It is a dream you. In fact, the you that you think is you is a dreamer inside a dreamer inside a dreamer inside a dreamer. You are the King of the universe, who has fallen asleep and is dreaming he is the Queen, who has fallen asleep and is dreaming she is the Prince, who has fallen asleep and is dreaming he is a sleeping princess.”

In Duquette’s fairytale of Creation, the Prince and Princess are twins birthed by the Queen -- different in sex, but alike in power. HELLO PEOPLE, this is the exact premise of the original She-Ra cartoon. 

Within the new show, we see the struggle of a world straining to evolve in two opposing directions. 

The Fright Zone is a technocratic military junta which only managed to come into power via political exploitation, capturing the Black Garnet runestone from the family of Scorpia, Etheria’s last “slumbering” princess. 

One could compare the Fright Zone’s hierarchy to that of the classic Rider-Waite-Smith court cards, in which Hordak serves as King, Shadow Weaver as Lord, Force Captains are Knights, and all the the various wanna-be’s (including Adora and Catra in the first episode), servants, robots, and various scavengers remain in the Peasant class.

It’s not clear yet how the rest of Etheria is governed. It bucks this traditional structure, resulting in a lumpy sort of meritocracy in which those with the most magical power wield the most influence, but rulers are mainly tasked with maintaining harmony and protecting their subjects against external invasion. There’s evidence of a soldier class, but the “lowest” citizens we encounter are shown existing peacefully in (apparently) self-governing tribal cultures. They don’t serve the Princesses, they simply enjoy the freedom afforded to them by the Princesses’ rule. People live for love, for pleasure, for adventure, and/or the pursuit of intellectual aims. 

(The only exception seems to be Entrapta, the Silicon Valley tech-bro stand-in who presides over her own servant class of attendants and robots. And it’s worth mentioning that she’s also the only Princess whose power isn’t anchored to an elemental source.)

In this sense, Etheria is an impressive embodiment of Thoth deck court structure, populated by Queens, industrious “princes” like Bow and SeaHawk, and true Princesses -- “Every man and every woman is a star,” with plenty of room to accommodate those who present neither as fully male or female, those with magical powers and those without.

But if you’ve already read this far, let’s take this one step even further and look at how SHE-RA IS ALSO A KNIGHT. 

That’s right, you heard me: everything that Adora symbolizes as Princess, She-Ra articulates as a Knight. She even gets a horse! And a sword, and a shield! Note that Adora hasn’t really changed: she was a Knight in Hordak’s world also. She has simply relocated from one symbolic reality to another -- a more Thelemic one, in which Knights are kings. Thus, as She-Ra, she becomes Hordak’s symbolic equal. 

And note that Noelle Stevenson’s re-imagining of the series is entitled “She-Ra and the Princesses of Power,” as opposed to the original title “She-Ra: Princess of Power.” She is of their ilk, but different. As Perfuma might say: “She is the She-Ra.”

Symbolically, Adora contains all the elemental potential of a Princess who must still evolve and struggle to awaken. She-Ra, however, is the elemental Fire that awaits on the other side -- the King who dreams he is a Queen, who dreams she is a Prince, who dreams he is a Princess. We know from Light Hope that She-Ra’s lineage extends thousands of years. She is not a person, she’s a function -- and that function is to protect Etheria by transforming reality. 

In other words: Adora’s glorious transformation into She-Ra is a microcosm of Etheria’s transformation, which She-Ra herself was created to oversee. 

In this way, the series bears the greatest resemblance to Alan Moore’s tremendous graphic novel Promethea, which tells the story of an ordinary young woman named Sophie who discovers she’s the latest incarnation of a mythical “science heroine” -- who may or may not have been created to usher in the Apocalypse. And she is guided in this process by other Prometheas, who represent an interesting range of ethnicities, body types, and genders. 

Sophie’s exploration of her own newfound identity sends her on an odyssey that matches many beats in Adora’s. What are the limits of her new powers? How can she learn to transform at will? What dangers will this confer on her loved ones? Which parts of her belong to Sophie, and which to Promethea?

These are classic superhero problems, but Sophie’s quest is one that’s specifically designed to transform the reader as well: Moore has crafted a story that also serves as a primer for modern occult traditions, including tarot cards. 

While Moore looks beyond Thelema, the works of Aleister Crowley remain a key influence -- the horny old magician even appears as a recurring character, in a handful of cheeky cameo roles.

Like She-Ra, Promethea points to the golden thread of continuity linking the individual and the divine. That’s a birthright that even the humblest, most overlooked person shares with the rest of humanity, but our world’s prevailing powers do everything they can to conceal that truth. Our own senses play tricks on us as well, supporting a view of the world in which we remain small and powerless, in which our lives, our suffering, our deaths, mean nothing.

The artists mentioned in this post -- Smith, Crowley, Duquette, Harris, Moore, Stevenson -- might not agree on everything, but they share the same quest: to awaken all these slumbering princesses. That includes you, dear reader. Wake up, your kingdom needs you!

Our language has another word for this sacred process: animation. 

This is why you shouldn’t feel silly enjoying She-Ra or any other fantasy, at any age. This is why little girls shouldn’t be discouraged from play-acting as princesses (and neither should little boys). Society can only stand to improve from humans exploring their Princess powers. Many of these magical abilities will prove to be connected to life-saving (perhaps even civilization-saving) advantages further down the road. Magic is real, and we all stand to benefit from it.

“The clothes you're wearing, the room, the house, the city that you're in. Everything in it started out in the human imagination,” Moore writes in Promethea. “Your lives, your personalities, your whole world. All invented. All made up. All the wars, the romances. The masterpieces and the machines. And there's nothing here but a funny little twist of amino acids, playing a marvelous game of pretend.” 

For the honor of Grayskull, it’s time to conduct yourself accordingly. 

Have a tarot reading request or tarot-related question for Arcanalogue? Ask here. Tips accepted (but not required) via Venmo, @arcanalogue. Or support my Patreon? I’d love that.

[imaginethatalena]

#45: Kylo Ren x Reader

Thanks for requesting anon ❤ i might do a Part 2 because I would love to flesh out this little story even more. It’s a great idea and I want to see how far I can go with it. 

Request: Hey can I request an imagine where the reader is soon-to-be Mrs. Hux because of an arranged thing but her and Kylo like eachother?? Thanks! ❤️

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE LAST JEDI

DISCLAIMER: I just saw the Last Jedi again and I am aware that the plot isn’t how I originally remembered it. I couldn’t remember it very well after only one viewing. Every imagine after this will be much more accurate now I promise ❤

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The galaxy hadn’t seen the First Order coming. They took hold quicker than anyone could fight back, and your planet was one of the first to go. You were the daughter of the king on your planet, and instead of putting up a fight and joining the Resistance, your father decided that a peaceful solution was the best. Marriage had historically been one of the most effective ways to forge peace, so you were to be married to Snoke’s highest ranking general, Armitage Hux. You met your betrothed the day you were sent to see the finished Starkiller Base with other political leaders in your system. It was also the day that your father had decided was perfect to make your engagement known to the galaxy.

“Soon my daughter, Y/N, will wed the general in command of this base,” he announced. “We back the First Order, and their marriage will ensure our support for years to come.”

General Hux stood at your side, his expression stoic, without saying a word to you. It only took one look to see that he was unfeeling and unrelenting, calculating and dangerous, everything the First Order valued. He frightened you, but you didn’t show it. Instead you stood in silence and looked curiously to Kylo Ren, the Knight of Ren who accompanied your soon to be husband. You had no idea now close you and Kylo would become.

Your father died when the Resistance destroyed Starkiller Base, but your engagement to Hux endured. Instead of returning to your planet, it was decided that you would stay at his side and accompany Hux on whatever ship his command was transferred to. That meant you saw a lot more of Kylo Ren. 

For awhile you were sure the things you were feeling were one sided, fabricated by loneliness on a battleship where everyone ignored you. He scared you to death at first, but after awhile the mystery he shrouded himself in drew you to him. He stalked about the ship with a purpose, his face always hidden by that helmet. Every time you saw him you grew even more curious. One day Hux summoned you to the bridge, and on the way there you saw Kylo, and you decided to try to talk to him.

“Commander Ren,” you called to him. It took him a moment to turn to you, almost as though he was shocked someone had acknowledged him. He waited for you to catch up to him, and he matched your pace as you walked.

“Would you mind guiding me to the bridge?” you asked him. “I’ve been summoned by my fiancé, but I’m afraid I don’t know the way.”

“Of course, Princess,” he said. You noticed the usual veiled anger in his voice was completely absent when he spoke to you, and the fear you previously had around him completely dispelled.

You walked in silence for a bit until you asked him, “Is there a reason for my presence on the bridge? It hardly seems like the place for me.”

“I think it would be best if General Hux shares that with you,” was all he said. It didn’t do anything to help your nervousness. Your relationship with Hux hadn’t gotten any better since that day on Starkiller Base. Your engagement was strictly political, and you weren’t looking forward to your life with him.

“I know my presence on this ship wasn’t expected,” you said. “This is a war ship. Someone like me doesn’t belong here. I hope I haven’t been a burden to your crew.”

“You haven’t been a burden,” he told you. “It’s true that I didn’t expect you to be on this ship, but you’ve become a welcome change from what my life here used to be.”

Had he meant to compliment you? You weren’t sure. Either way, it let you know that you had caught his attention as much as he had caught yours and that he possibly felt the same way. 

Kylo didn’t leave your side until you reached the bridge and had to go to Hux.

“You asked for me,” you said when you approached the general, not sure how to greet him.

“Yes. I wanted to show you something.” He put a hand to your back and guided you down the walkway to the windows at the front of the bridge, and you felt Kylo’s eyes on you and Hux the entire time.

“We’ll soon be transferred to the First Order’s newest ship,” he told you, gesturing to the battleship outside the window. It was bigger than any ship you had ever seen, built for utter destruction.

“The Dreadnought will obliterate the Resistance fleet, and your father’s death will be avenged,” Hux told you.

“It’s a ship deserving of a general such as you,” you said, deciding it was safest to compliment him. Your personal beliefs were better off hidden. If anyone around you knew that you truly wanted to support the Resistance, you would be executed.

“After the Resistance is wiped out we will be married,” he said. “The galaxy will see that the First Order has the support of the people.”

While he was talking you couldn’t stop yourself from looking to Kylo, and Hux noticed.

“I suggest you prepare to leave, Princess,” he told you, taking steps towards the commander. You didn’t want to stay to see what they talked about, so you left without another word.

“Careful, Ren,” Hux said to Kylo Ren. The commander turned to him, his mask hiding any emotion he could have shown. “I don’t think the Supreme Leader would like you developing feelings for a political tool.”

“She’s your betrothed,” Kylo said. “You should be the one practicing caution if you only mean to use her.”

“To see her as anything more than a means to an end would put the First Order at risk,” Hux snapped. “Princess Y/N will come with us to the Dreadnought, but she will be removed from the ship as soon as her usefulness runs out. We don’t need you getting distracted by every girl who captures your interest.”

Kylo stepped dangerously close to Hux, and the bridge fell silent.

“A general has no place commenting on my interests,” Kylo said lowly. “I would be careful, if i were you. Snoke may decide you’re unfit to use political tools and find someone who’s better at it. If he decides that is me, any other usefulness you think yourself to have will dwindle very quickly.” 

With that Kylo left the bridge, off to prepare himself to battle the Resistance once again and possibly see you one last time. 

[elenajohansenauthor]

Fictober18, Day 30: “Do we really have to do this again?”

OCs: Shannon and Orlando

Project: Untitled paranormal romance for Fictober18/NaNoWriMo, now tagged #spookyromancenovel on my blog

Potential Triggers: none

Word Count: 2,285

About: Sun magic and an unexpected phone call.

The process of capturing sunlight is mostly preparation, coupled with lots of waiting. Now, after my coffee date with my mother, the waiting was over.

I don't open the shop on Sundays, but I headed there, since that's where I'd likely be when the sun was shining, any other day of the week. I'd left my assembled kit of spell components there, waiting through every day serving my customers and tending the shelves for the rain to break, for even just five minutes of sunlight to get things started.

Of course it was sunny on my day off. Of course.

Everything was packed in a drawstring velvet bag (one of my most popular items, witches of every stripe go nuts for soft, pretty velvet) so I grabbed it and headed up to the roof, which I could access from a steel ladder on the back wall of my storeroom. Managing the hatch was a pain, I always wished I had stairs instead, especially when I was taking up vessels for collecting rain water, or bringing them in. I had a lot of roof, so I could put out a lot of pots, but they got dirty quickly if I left them up there—I'd found that out the hard way, and let me tell you, chipping off dried bird shit is no fun time. In theory, I could get one of those big weatherproof chests to keep things in, but how would I ever get it up there?

Hauling the bag up was easy, though, I simply looped the drawstring around my wrist and up I went.

The rainfall had lasted long enough to thoroughly soak the cement, but there were dry patches emerging from the scattered puddles. I sat in the center of one and opened my bag.

A scrap of bright golden silk came out first. It had come from an ao dai I'd worn as a child, and the square, cut from the front, still had faded embroidery in one corner. The thread had been bleached by the sun in a way that the silk itself hadn't, but I liked the effect, the white-gold stitches against the strong, mustardy yellow. I'd been using this cloth for ages, and I would keep using it until it disintegrated in my hands.

I weighed down each corner of the square with a piece of tumbled citrine, used to attract joy to one's life, and emblematic of the sun. They were pretty stones, not my favorite, but clear and warm. I only used them for this sunlight gathering spell, which I had done before, but not often. My mother had always frowned on magic in the house, but a natural sun lamp was one of the few things she permitted, once I'd explained how much of a help it would be in the rain and snow of a gray winter. She did prefer to test color palettes in sunlight, after all. The first summer she allowed it, I spent a whole week storing up sunshine, every afternoon until she called me in for dinner.

I wouldn't have that same reliable weather now, but all I could do was my best, which was coming up here as often as possible before the full moon.

A brief moment of curiosity distracted me—Ursula as a moon witch? It wasn't entirely out of the question, but it was a pretty large departure from her family's traditions, if Noah's gossip was accurate. Better that than a necromancer, I suppose, but then, I didn't actually know that much about necromancy. It wasn't, strictly speaking, raising the dead—we already had enough problems with ghouls for anyone to bother with that, I would think—but rather communing with them, as well as using the power of death and its trappings to affect change in the living world. But that was only the broadest outline of the branch, and I didn't know anything more specific.

I supposed if one of Ursula's brothers was capable of mind control, which wasn't necromantic at all, then she might also have ended up with talents that veered in  other directions.

But I was doing this for them, so I needed to do it, and stop dithering.

The next item from my bag was a smaller bag, the boring zipper top kind. It was filled with white sand I'd collected from a beach a few years back, and it was still half full, thankfully—I didn't get to travel often, so I was always keeping an eye out for spell components when I did. I measured out a handful and brought it close to my face, closing my eyes. “Warm sky and brilliance,” I whispered over it. The sand heated briefly in my hand, not unpleasantly. Like holding a bag of roasted, candied nuts. Without opening my eyes, I reached forward and tipped my hand, letting the sand spill over the silk, or at least where I thought the silk was.

When I opened my eyes, I was pleased to see I had a neat pile sitting almost exactly in the center of the square. Good luck, that. It's not that the spell wouldn't work off-center, but neatness and symmetry certainly aided most types of spells.

The last thing I needed was a plain old crystal ball, which I drew out carefully. Any scratches or nicks on the smooth surface could decrease its effectiveness as a vessel, and I was tired, run-down from all the stress of the past few weeks. The last thing I wanted was to drop the ball and have it roll clear across the roof, picking up grit the whole way, until it ran into the low brick lip at the edge and cracked.

I handled it gently, with just my fingertips, and set it firmly atop the sand pile.

Everything was in place. I put on my sunglasses, focused on the center of the crystal ball, and began to chant.

Sunshine, sunshine, bless this vessel. Sunshine, bright light, fill it full. Sunshine, white heat, hear me calling. Sunshine, great star, grant me life.

It wasn't the greatest poetry, but it did the job. If I'd written the chant, I would have at least tried to make it rhyme, but it did have a certain pulsing rhythm to it that I liked, that made it easy to fall into. Because I was going to be up here for hours, with any luck.

After the first twenty minutes of the spell, the crystal ball grew bright enough I was thankful for the sunglasses. After another fifteen, it was too bright to look at anyway—I had to shut my eyes. When I eventually paused to take a few sips of water—I'd stashed a bottle in my supply bag—I could see the gathered light pulsing even through my eyelids. This was going faster than I expected it to, which either meant the sun was unusually strong, or I was. Since the last time I'd gathered sunlight was near midsummer, and now we were in early fall, I doubted it was the former. But it had been years, so maybe I was more skilled than before?

Or more powerful?

A witch's power was a tentative, relative thing. So much depended on aptitude for a type of magic. Just like a person could have different types of intelligence—book-smart, people-smart, number-smart and so on—a witch would could incinerate a hay bale with a glance might find herself completely unable to scry, or imbue a promise with magic, or hear the truth in someone's voice. I had strong Healing magic, a smidge of truth-reading, and the most basic, rudimentary abilities in a few other areas, like sun magic. Yes, I could gather sunlight to store and use later, but I couldn't conjure it from nothing; I couldn't weave its light into illusions or focus it into a laser beam to cause harm.

For me to suddenly be so noticeably better at a spell I'd performed several times before was worrying. How could I have changed so radically? No amount of book-smart research could account for it.

It only took another hour to fill the crystal to bursting with light. I couldn't explain exactly how I could tell it was done, just like I couldn't explain exactly how I could see the invisible edge of one of Orlando's portals. But there was a feeling of pressure against my skin, and that precise kind of silence you hear just between the moment a piece of glass shivers, and the moment it cracks. I could imagine one more word of the chant filling the ball too much, and having the light flood out.

It had never happened to me. I didn't know if I would fry to a crisp, or just get badly sunburned. I stopped. I wasn't taking any chances.

Still with closed eyes, I reached out gently to find the ball. Despite the swirl of brightness I could see even through two layers of protection, the ball was only barely warm to the touch. I brought it to my lips and whispered, “Rest.”

The light died instantly. I left my eyes closed until the false colors my brain was producing stopped flashing and popping against my inner eyelids. When all was black again, I looked at the crystal. It was a solid, matte black, so deep it almost looked like a hole between my hands. The blackness had startled me the first time—I thought I'd failed. But when reawakened, the light had been there for the taking. No, the blackness was a precaution, preventing the loss of light, and preventing the caster from blindness. The amount of light I'd stored was dangerous, if unleashed too quickly or seen too closely.

I slipped the ball back into my big velvet bag. The sand beneath was scorched black, sooty more than sandy. After removing the pieces of citrine, I picked up the silk and shook the ruined sand out into the wind, hoping it would settle somewhere where the soil needed enriching.  I'd tried disposing of the sand in a few different ways, but it tended to burn through plastic trash bags, set puddles of water boiling, and eat like acid through most solids—it was that hot, magically speaking. The only way to disperse that intense energy seemed to be to disperse the sand itself, letting the wind carry and cool it.

I was just opening the hatch to go back inside when my phone rang from my jacket pocket. Orlando was calling. This probably wasn't good.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively.

“I need to see you about something,” he said without preamble. “Can you come by tonight?”

“Something you can't just talk to me over the phone about?” I was close to whining, but I was wrung out. “Do we really have to do this again?”

“That's the other thing,” he said grimly. Internally, I was sighing. There was another thing? “Don't bring Noah.”

“What?” I stepped back from the open hatch, afraid shock might pitch me straight into it. “I don't have the best record with keeping secrets from him, okay? Are you sure I have to come alone?”

“Positive, Shannon. But it'll be worth it.”

I reminded myself not to clench my teeth—bad for my blood pressure. “I can't promise when I'll show up, then. It'll have to be after he's left to hunt. If he even does, I can't exactly force him to if he's not hungry, and there's no way he'll let me leave alone if he's around.”

“Figure something out.” Orlando's voice was flat and hard. “You might think his protectiveness is cute now, but if he makes the transition to full gargoyle, he's either going to rip you to pieces in a frenzy, or guard you so well you'll die of starvation because he'll only bring you ghoul carcasses to eat instead of human food.”

His words were so ridiculous I wanted to dismiss them out of hand, Noah would never...

But he might. If that promise spell broke somehow, if he turned, Orlando was right—Noah would either kill me immediately, or doom me to a slow death of privation. There was no way gargoyle-Noah, with a surviving instinct to protect me at all costs, would ever let me do anything so mundane as go grocery shopping.

“That won't happen.”

“Not if we're all working merrily together to keep him human-ish and sane, it won't. So you need to meet me tonight, without him.”

“Fine,” I growled, my good mood from the success sunlight gathering completely ruined. “Remember, I have no idea when I'll make it.”

“I'll be waiting.” He hung up.

I cursed Orlando with every non-magical swear word I knew, then climbed down the ladder after I'd vented my rage. No temper tantrums would make me risk the charged crystal, but once I'd secured it safely in my office, I shut the door and gave into the temptation to shout my curses, a luxury I hadn't indulged in on top of the roof, in the open air. I wanted to store up my anger like that sunlight, to unleash it on Orlando when I saw him, but some part of me was still afraid of him, of his knowledge and power, neither of which I knew to their full extent. Until I understood him better, I couldn't risk becoming his enemy.

Not when Noah's humanity was still at stake.

By the time I got home, I was still and calm as the surface of an early morning pond. Noah would wake soon, and he must not know I planned to trick him, or then everyone would be pissed at me.

[aion-rsa]

Fear and Loathing in Aspen Plants Its Freak Flag High

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Hunter S. Thompson is a confounding figure. Though he didn’t invent Gonzo journalism, he is the most identifiable face of it. His first-person narrative style of news gathering makes him partially accountable for the overriding trends of internet journalism, on both sides of the aisle and all the cleanup calls which go along with them. Thompson’s 1970 attempt to run for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado, marked the beginning of baby boomer politicking. Writer-director Bobby Kennedy III’s Fear and Loathing in Aspen tells that story with wit, wisdom and weirdness.

Set just before Thomson, played by Jay Bulger, caught his stride with his 1971 novel Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream, the film conjures the energy of strange, new beginnings. Much of it is shot on vintage grade, grainy film stock, and it looks like the actors were free to taste at least medium grade, seedy, hemp stock, as well as mescaline, cocaine, and plain old tobacco, dipped in PCP. More than merely recreating the era, Fear and Loathing in Aspen accurately captures the underground filmmaking experience of the time period.

My favorite Bill Murray performance is his turn as Thompson in Where the Buffalo Roam. Though I love Terry Gilliam’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Art Linson’s film more accurately captures the offbeat social divide because it was closer to the source material. Murray was himself, with Thompson’s impish soul egging him to be what he was naturally. He sprinkled Thompson’s singular speaking approach like pepper, and never offended the chef. Bulger captures Thompson’s mannerisms without ever approaching caricature. It is a deeply felt performance, especially when Bulger allows Thompson to reveal his own inner disappointments, something which never occurs to Johnny Depp until The Rum Diary.

Murray and Depp got to hang out with Thompson in the flesh. Bulger doesn’t project inner wildness on the inner projector behind his eyes, but spent a large part of his real life immersed in Thompson’s job. He was also a gonzo journalist and Rolling Stone writer, and puts himself behind those tinted aviator glasses, converse sneakers, crumpled hat, and cigarette holder. We don’t doubt he is who he’s playing, and when we see the 8 mm home movie footage, we can imagine ourselves being fooled into thinking of Hunter with a full head of hair. The audience is guided by Hunter S. Thompson himself, through recordings he made during his political run. Thompson almost traded writing articles for tickets, and found a new buzz: political addiction. Bulger gives a visceral impression of the thrills and lows of the high.

While Gillian tried to bring the inner LSD experience to an artistic fruition, Fear and Loathing in Aspen shows the exterior surface of indulgent tripsters. But the low-budget, we-can-do-this-at-home intimacy explores the players’ interiors more deeply. It’s even hard to fear the sheriff Hunter is trying to depose when he says he got the chalk for his map of local intransigeants from his kids.

Thompson is as much an outlaw as Doc Holliday and Billy the Kid to Sheriff Carroll Whitmire (Laird Macintosh). He’s just running ‘em out of Dodge. He’d probably envy the handguns, rifles and other weaponry available up at Thompson’s place. But he’s at least reasonable. Whitmire’s opponent is running on a very Democratic “Jail Thompson” ticket, and de-pigs the top cop. Thompson runs on the “Freak Power” ticket. One inspired sequence shows Hunter shaving his head just so he can call the encumbered, incumbent Republican candidate for sheriff “his long-haired opponent.”

“The Battle of Aspen” was Thompson’s first Rolling Stone piece, and can be found in his essential collection The Great Shark Hunt. The race was also the focus of last year’s documentary Freak Power: The Ballot or the Bomb. After riding with the Hell’s Angels, former sports writer Hunter fled to a cabin in the woods to start a family and write a novel at the end of the 1960s. Acid clarity inspires him to discern unnatural elements in the stream, and to pour a bucket of the foul-smelling stuff at an Aspen town council meeting. This leads to the exposure of the town’s great divides, generational, racial, economic and corporate.

Cheryl Hines, as Aspen Mayor Eve Homeyer, is fun to loathe here. She brings a deliciously bland middle American flavor, and leaves an indistinct aftertaste. Homeyer is oblivious to how manipulative she is. She doesn’t see what she’s doing as wrong. Sees no evil in driving the real people of Aspen out to make room for the developers and the rich. The film’s main focus is subtle small-town bigotry and the overt insular structure which keeps the system in place. Kennedy keeps it contemporary by targeting gentrification, the unfairness of drug laws, calls for police reform and demilitarization, and a plea for the Colorado environment.

Amaryllis Fox, who was a former CIA analyst, plays Thompson’s fictionalized campaign manager. She also serves as his Jiminy Cricket, as well as Cricket lighter, burning feelings of conscience into his ear and grass in his pipe. Fear and Loathing in Aspen also presents Thompson’s home life. He educates his son on the ways of life, and toys with his wife in the ways of sons. Bobby Kennedy III, met Thompson as a child along with his father, Robert Kennedy Jr., the son of Robert F. Kennedy, who was a lifelong friend. He ensures Thompson the person comes out as much as the man who railed against social disparities and dysentery with equal rage, and often in the same sentence.

The only thing missing is a representational soundtrack. The score, written by Wayne Kramer, John Paul Roney, and The Futurebirds, captures the sound and feel of the time, but a recognizable song or two would have done wonders for the puzzles of the period piece.

A lot of what was outlaw in 1970 is mainstream now. Thompson, who died by suicide at age 67 on Feb. 20, 2005, is as much a reason for this as Chicago 7 alumni or Angela Davis. The freak has inherited the earth, but it’s still out of our price range. The end credits admit “This is a fictional story with fictional characters adapted from a true story.” Which is a roundabout way of saying you can’t make this shit up. It’s organic, and as real as it feels. Fear and Loathing in Aspen feels good, even though it doesn’t have a strictly happy ending. But feeling good is good enough in this case. It’s short, but satisfying, and yet frustrating enough to consider giving something like this a try at home.

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Fear and Loathing in Aspen will be available on digital and on demand Aug. 31.

The post Fear and Loathing in Aspen Plants Its Freak Flag High appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3Bo2Wwr

[mineofilms]

“Someone To Watch Over Me”

Episode 22, Season 5 of Star Trek Voyager (4/28/1999) is the story of the EMH (Emergency Medical Hologram) mentoring Seven of Nine (Earth-Human BORG rescued by Voyager and turned human again) in romance and dating. Things get complicated when the EMH develops feelings for Seven of Nine.

When I saw this episode it immediately peeked my interests. In the past I have written a lot about dating, relationships and sex. I have experienced so much in this area that I tried to rationalize how these 2 characters would actually react in these situations in the now.

We have to also examine when this episode came out and what was happening in the world and how TV stories were told in 1999.

We were about to change the 1st 9 in 1990’s to a Zero. TV was about to evolve. During this time Star Trek in general was still trying different things that was related to our society, as the Original Star Trek (OST) did in the 1960’s. Stories in Star Trek were still character driven. However, the Star Trek the Next Generation (TSG) films went from a very large character based show to bang bang, shoot’em up action films; with very little character structure. That is a separate subject all on it’s own.

Go watch the RedLetterMedia’s Mr. Plinkett Reviews on the TNG films.

The shows were untouched by this and were pushing for more complicated character based studies. Voyager was the last Star Trek show that made this a main point to their plot structures. You have two very complicated characters and their character arcs over the 7 seasons the show ran for.

This was right at the cusp of when realityTV began gaining momentum. It got so big in those first two to three years that most TV shows were now based in some sort of reality based situation. It even poured into fictional TV stories. No more 15-24, hour long, anthology and episodic style story telling. Nowadays almost all shows are between 8-15, hour long episodes that are directly connected to each other. One cannot miss an episode without missing key points in the story and characters. Think Mini-Series but double the episodes for the season.

Back to Voyager and 1999…

The EMH is exactly what it is described as. An Emergency Medical Hologram. However, this hologram has a complete medical database of human and other aliens programed into its memory. It’s personality is based on the MD that was the original person. During Voyager’s mission back to Earth they unlock some of the safe guards of the program because the ship’s actual Doctor was killed in the very 1st episode. The ship needed a Doctor that not only could think and feel on it’s own, but also be able to travel out of the medical bay where the holo emitters were. Voyager is in the 24th century and gains that ability stealing 29th century technology during their voyage. The EMH begins to develop his own independent feelings about his reality. How he fits into it and whether or not he is actually alive. He has his own thoughts and feelings, just like a human.

Seven of Nine, born on Earth to the name of Annika Hansen, was captured and assimilated by the BORG when Annika was only six years old. When a human is assimilated by the BORG they lose their individuality. From Annilka’s point of view she was 6, captured by scary Aliens and her consciousness drifts away once the BORG technology buries her personality/individuality forever. The next moment, 18 years later; she awakes when her link to the BORG collective is severed. Cut off from the Hive mind of balance, order and control, now 24, and being totally isolated. She has more memories of her BORG existence than as a human.

So basically, Seven of Nine has 3 separate distinct personalities all living/sharing/feeling/growing together. A mini-hive mind. You have her 6 year old self, her only pure human personality. You have her BORG memories, like a computer ruled by pure logic. Lastly, you have Annika… The human adult trying to blend her 6 year old self and her BORG self. She goes back and forth over the years dealing with this. She ultimately wants to become as human as she can. She makes huge strides with the crew as making friendships go and wants to go the next step.

The EMH has been mentoring her in human behavior, as he is programmed with all the knowledge and years of experience to do the job. The logical next step is to teach Seven what dating and romance is. I really liked how the EMH separates dating and romance as 2 separate distinct things.

The Doctor’s direct quote… “One step at a time. Dating is a human ritual, wherein two people share a social activity, get to know each other. In time, it can lead to a romantic involvement, and eventually, if all goes well, even marriage.” The keywords here are “One step at a time” and “can lead to.”

This does not imply dating will lead to romantic involvement, but could lead to… Our definition of Dating these days seems very broad to me and very open to interpretation! I mean this definition of dating seems pretty solid to me, even without looking it up.

On merriam-webster.com the only reference to romance directly associated to dating is; “that often has a romantic character.”  This does not mean “WILL.”

So, I feel the Doctor’s short version of this is pretty accurate. With that said, I feel the concept of dating here starts strictly as a platonic meeting of 2 people.  

It should also be noted that in 1999 on TV same sex romantic involvement was ok and normal in the Star Trek Fiction, just not widespread, like we see now on TV and in Star Trek show/film in this century. So I do not mean offense to same sex relationships here.

The message I got from this story was the Doctor working so close to Seven about dating and romance that he begins to have feelings for her and does not know how to communicate with Seven of how he feels. He tries several times to say what he feels but by the time he realizes how to say his feelings to Seven she becomes completely uninterested in furthering these interactions with the Doctor.

Basically, Seven feels she learned what she wanted to know from the Doctor and wanted to further her own research and discovery on this matter. The metaphor is like Friends With Benefits… One starts the arrangement and the other begins to develop more than friend feelings. One or even both begin to fall in love and it just wreaks havoc on a friendship. Now, not always. However, we all have gone through this ourselves or were close to someone that was going through that. We have seen so much of this but it doesn’t always have to be that way.

This story can also mirror how teenagers fall in love for the first time. With the complications of sex as adults. I am just talking about 2 teenagers that are growing into sexuality but fall in love young for the 1st time. It is really innocent in that respect. The Doctor even though he has the knowledge programmed into him. He still is just learning what loving someone else is all about. Seven, doesn’t even grasp what the emotion and affection is. In terms of teenagers. She is like 12 and over developed while the Doctor is 15 and knows what liking a girl is like already but feels even stronger here.

The lesson here for me is all about open communication with your lover. Not just your lover but the person you want to be your lover. Or even someone you like but are not sure how you feel romantically about them. It starts at the friends part.

How many times do we see this on the subject? “I just want my lover to be my best friend.” I see it a lot. It takes time to build that. It doesn’t happen right out of the gates. Even though realityTV will tell you. Yes, it can. Remember that shit is Scripted Reality. The parties know what is going to happen. What isn’t written is how they get there. That is all filled in by their reactions. That is the only Reality part of it.

A guy shouldn’t talk to 15 different women and just going for the one that will blindly follow his ass. A guy should talk to 5 women and try to make everlasting friendships with them. If one sparks romance then that works for me.

The quote goes… "Like Cold Water washing away Heated Emotions... Its Quality versus Quantity, but Quantity has a Quality all on its own..." Evan Currie. I say; Its Quality versus Quantity, Quality has a Quantity all on its own...

If you care about someone. Let them know… I love you… 

“Someone To Watch Over Me” By David-Angelo Mineo Words 1,507 1/1/2021

[waldorfphotographic]

Knoxville Wedding Photography Tips For Bride and Groom

Entering and exiting the vehicle When I meet with a couple for a discussion about their wedding photography I definitely offer a few recommendations that they could make during their arrangements that will assist me with taking care of my job all the more effectively. I have collected a wealth of experience over the last years and I am happy to share it with the couples that make time to find my different or unique style of wedding photography. A while prior, I understood that I am regularly rehashing similar wedding photography tips from meeting to meeting and chose to formalize the recommendations in a central repository for easy reference and sharing. These wedding photography tips are in no means, shape, although that is my ultimate aim; they will be edited and improved upon as unique ideas come to mind. Much like the wedding photography FAQ, you ought to consider this report a nonstop work in progress. 

The Reason for Wedding Photography Tips for Couples 

The objective of this article is to assist you in helping me deliver remarkable knoxville wedding photography by assembling a marvelous, efficient, and wonderful wedding celebration. 

As a wedding photographer, I can just capture what I see unfurling before my eyes in light of the fact that my impact over the pictures is restricted to point, the field of view, center, and timing.  It is your obligation to design and plan your wedding with the intention of an incredible picture in mind, accurately because I don't improve trinkets, decorations, or furniture, or intrude on couples during touching moments with prompts to move here or remain over there. 

Read More: Best Photographers in Knoxville TN

While perusing these wedding photography tips, it would be ideal if you comprehend they are completely discretionary. Don't hesitate to join the same number of or as not many of these wedding photography tips as you see fit. This article is coordinated around the advancement of a commonplace wedding day. Let us begin.

Preparations and Getting Ready

Get your wedding photographer to capture you getting ready and preparing

At whatever point I meet with couples whose fixed wedding photography budgets mean they need to settle on photographic coverage prior in the day (getting ready and preparing) or later at evening (when the dance party begins), I generally suggest they pick the previous. There are a lot more contacting and passionate minutes occurring toward the start of the day than towards its decision. Once the supper, speeches, and cake-cutting traditions are over, and the dancing (and drinking) has started, the utility of having a dedicated wedding photographer on location decreases dramatically.  There are two main reasons for this. First, with a couple uncommon exceptions, the schedule for this piece of the night no longer has any reserved occasions, customs, or ceremonies to observe.  The nighttime celebration rarely yields more than a handful or two of unique photographs, after which you quickly get unavoidable losses. 

Obviously, your wedding might not have any of these components, or your dance party includes a social convention, dance schedule, or special performance. For this situation, feel free to hire a Waldorf Photographic Art for as long as you need wedding photography.

Choose Unique Lodging

Couples that select to have an overnight remain at an inn just before their wedding should consider upgrading their accommodations to lodgings with character. Since traditional lodgings are intended to speak to the best number of individuals, they strictly hold fast to the same set of unsuitable interior design, and this seeps into your photographs. Most couples comprehend the importance of choosing a remarkable venue for their reception, however regularly disregard the significance a particularly excellent location adds to readiness photography. 

Transportation & Logistics

Entering and exiting the vehicle

Now and then, it is a smart thought to have your wedding photographer ride with you to the service. If so for your wedding, guarantee that the wedding photographer is the last to enter the vehicle and the first to exit upon appearance. This permits them to capture the second you emerge. If somebody is helping you out of the vehicle, prep them early, so they open the entryway from the direction towards which it opens. 

For more information about wedding photography in Knoxville contact Waldorf Photographic Art. We are the best wedding photographer, event, portrait & headshot photography in Knoxville, TN. Call us at 865-567-5755 or visit our website and book your session today!

[trinityvixen]

Whatever happened to “show don’t tell”?

Spoilers for season seven of Game of Thrones!

When I think of the scenes I liked best in season six of Game of Thrones, the one thing they have in common is silence. The absence of dialogue and other noises allowed what wasn’t said to come to the forefront. The music carried some scenes, like the montage of people getting ready for the trial in the season six finale. In others, like Jon’s resurrection, the use of an otherwise mundane sound—breathing—to emphasize just how miraculous (and awful) Jon’s return to life following his murder was. Sometimes, there are no words for an emotion, and you have to trust actors to convey emotion. Season six gave that up in spades. Melisandre’s depression and loss of faith. Jon’s confrontation with the abject horror of his own murder. Sansa and Jon’s joy at their reunion. Theon’s insecurity as he returned to the Iron Islands. The best actor on the show, Lena Headey, letting her face crumple from height of joy and relief to the depths of despair in one glorious shot. Then, of course, the ultimate reveal of the show—Jon Snow’s true parentage—is told in a vision that transitions to Jon’s face. It’s good, but compared to the other scenes, perhaps a little on-the-nose.

Now imagine how much more so it would be if Bran had been speaking over it—“My father lied all his life to protect his sister’s child who is my supposed half-brother.” You don’t have to imagine it: the season seven finale did it. Any time there could have just been emotion, or acting to convey it, we got explanation instead. As a friend of mine put it, “so was that whole episode just a really long explanation for people who haven't been keeping up?” Exposition dumps haven’t been this heavy-handed since season one, when Littlefinger explained the world to Ned and Sansa Stark as a way of explaining it to us, the viewers.

At every turn this season, someone is Explaining How It Is to someone else. It’s why Sandor Clegane is the season’s most refreshing character because he just tells people to shut up and get on with it. Explaining How It Is doesn’t have to be boring if the conversation reveals character. In season one, Cersei and Robert Baratheon have an extraordinary exchange of words in which their mutual dislike of and disappointment in the other is the only bit of honesty we ever see between them. It’s unexpected for them—previously unable to speak without fighting—and it captures in one conversation what the years of their marriage have been like to lead them to this point. Cersei has another such amazing conversation with Tyrion—a man she hasn’t seen for two years and who until recently she thought responsible for the death of her son—in the season seven finale that is easily the highlight of the episode (and this in an episode where the Wall comes down because of a zombie dragon). Part of that must be attributed to Lena Headey being able to turn words into weapons, to inform more with the inflection of her voice than any dialogue could as to how Cersei is feeling in the moment. (It also helps that she is paired off with two actors of her caliber in those scenes.)

Explaining How It Is gets boring when it is solely for the audience because there are only seven episodes to get across the major reveal of the season, again having to do with Jon’s lineage. Quite apart from the ire for this development that book readers have (no book spoilers here), it’s pretty grating because it’s a cliché and it is communicated poorly and it requires a strange nonsensical reason for it to have been held back. Bran has sat on the information he has about Jon for an entire season. He could have told this sister, Sansa, to give her something use in her fight against Littlefinger; you could only have forgiven him for not doing so if he didn’t care about that struggle, but seeing as he helps her eventually convict the man of treason, that explanation makes no sense. Instead, the first person Bran tells is Sam. They don’t even get a moment for them to Explain How It Is to each other since Sam let Bran go beyond the Wall (the guilt Sam must have felt, letting his best friend’s crippled brother go off to near-certain death, the relief he feels seeing that decision hasn’t led to something horrible). It’s all about the elephant in the room—or, more accurately, the elephant on a boat currently having sex with his aunt. Bran Explains How It Is that Jon is actually the crown prince, not a royal or any other kind of bastard, but the boy who knows all apparently needs Sam to help him know that much. That beggars belief, again, as we must believe that Bran, having learned Jon is not his brother but his cousin, would, despite having all of space and time to gander at, not investigate further.*

Explaining How It Is is how Jon and Daenerys end up in bed together, too. These two are a fated couple, so the writing has been on the wall for a while about them boning (despite their familial relation). It makes a lot of sense, even. But just because something is Fated to Happen doesn’t mean we should just accept that that fate explains away lack of chemistry and lack of interaction. I call it the First Class failure. In X-Men: First Class, Charles Xavier is a prick, a man born to incredible privilege who tries to talk a victim of the Holocaust (Magneto) out of killing people who tried to kill him because “they were just following orders.” There is no coming back from that dick move, but the movie franchise still supports Xavier as “ the good guy” because that’s the role he is fated to play later.** The First Class failure is one in which a writer or writers feel they can be as narratively lazy as they like so long as the audience has a sense of where things are going already.

The internet loves to get into shipping wars, so a lot of people who don’t see Jon and Daenerys as a couple (especially, as seems to be argued by the show, a couple like his father and mother, that are in love) get dismissed as being disappointed at not getting their pairing of choice. Debate gets heated, the gifs proving that Jon and Daenerys make googly eyes at each other so they’re in love, QED, are circulated. Sticking strictly with the characters as we’ve known them up until now and the events of season 7 versus seasons 1 through 6, I argue that there is a lot of Explaining How It Is because there is no effort to show it naturally developing with a whopping dose of First Class failure thrown in.

Consider the characters first, specifically their respective romances to date and what those relationships have done to shape them as people. Daenerys was raped by her husband but came to love him. His people, his way of life, her marriage to those things as well as him is what first gave her the strength to be a queen. It gave her power and responsibility. She may not have initially chosen him, but she chooses those things. She gains the confidence that eventually overthrows slavery, unites her with several great houses from the land of her birth, and, of course, gives her the courage to birth dragons (and, by consequence, great magic) back into the world. Her romance with Daario is less world-shakingly terrifying, but it shapes her no less because it is a romance she chooses. Daenerys is setting about to break chains; taking Daario as a lover is about breaking the chain that says a woman belongs to a man. Part of that is privilege—it’s fine for a queen to take a lover, but the further down the hierarchy you go, the less likely that is to be permitted—but it’s an important character moment: Daenerys chooses for herself. That, in addition to the confidence built out of her previous relationship, is how the Dragon Queen comes to Westeros.

Jon’s romantic entanglements deal primarily with the chip he has on his shoulder about being a bastard. He is a virgin almost not by choice because he is terrified of being what everyone thinks all bastards are: lustful, sinful creatures. He not only doesn’t want to father bastards himself (because in his drama king mindset, it is the worst thing to be: a well-fed, educated man with an inconvenient last name), he has a somewhat understandable fear, given that he knows nothing of his mother, that any woman he desires could be related to him.*** Ygritte is therefore not only the first woman to aggressively pursue him, but she is the first woman he can guarantee will not be either related to him or caring about children with him. He is using her to establish his cover, and yes, he falls in love with her. It’s understandable that he does—he has no experience negotiating romantic relationships, much less as a spy, so he does best to deceive her by believing his own lie (and even then, she is aware he is not totally turned traitor for her). But damn if the lady still doesn’t have to work for it. Ygritte goes the full-body press on Jon, literally, as she finally takes his virginity by stripping naked and kissing him. She challenges him to prove his manhood, and Jon, who relies on his honor as a man to find any measure of respect for himself in a world that would deny it to him, accepts that challenge. That is something of a theme with Jon, both the women needing to throw themselves at him naked—Melisandre takes a similar tack—and the appeal to his honor being what decides whether he will won’t sleep with them. Melisandre fails in her seduction because Jon’s honor as Lord Commander and his mourning his love for Ygritte preclude his having sex with anyone. It takes losing both those things—stepping down as Lord Commander because of his murder and time passing for Ygritte’s memory to have less hold on him—for him to be in a position to find another person. Jon’s relationships have been fewer than Daenerys, but they removed the mystique and taint of sex for him enough that he can now focus on the bigger picture (the war against the undead). It’s almost cliché that the man has to get laid to be able to concentrate on real problems, but it does describe, more or less, how Jon matures due to his romantic relationships.****

So that is where they are before they meet in season seven. Season seven reduces them both to caricatures of themselves, sadly. Daenerys has always walked a fine line between doing justifiable violence and being a mad queen. She showed every promise of being able to compromise, to learn from advisors who reign in her worst instincts—Ser Barristan, Jorah, and then Tyrion. She was even willing to give away part of the lands she hoped to rule to Yara Greyjoy. This is a woman who knows something of compromise. And while it’s one thing to promise away the Iron Islands in return for alliance and security against raiders at sea and quite another to ignore another person claiming the largest swath of the lands she claims, it is still unjustifiably harsh of Daenerys to come down so fiercely on Jon Snow when they meet. It could have been the moment for her to learn more about the consequences of her family member’s behaviors again and to react to such news that the Targaryens weren’t all Mona Lisa Sapersteins (“I have never done anything wrong ever”) with compassion and understanding. Instead, she is reduced to Dragon Queen. The same thread will be picked up again later with her treatment of the Tarlys, although she is more in the right there to say that men who were actively opposing her on the battlefield and expressed an intention to do so again, are fair game for execution.****** All around her are people worried she has become unstable, and for good reason: she has suddenly been written as being unstable and unsympathetic.

For his part, Jon is wildly unable to find his footing as a king coming to treat with a queen. Part of that is due to Tyrion neglecting to mention Daenerys wanted him to swear fealty to her. But Jon has, for two episodes prior, spent a great deal of time succeeding better than one would have thought at being kingly, despite being challenged from a surprising corners (both Sansa and Lyanna Mormont tell him not to go to Dragonstone). He also managed to convince the Night’s Watch, back in the day, to let him bring Wildlings through the Wall. Yes, he was murdered, but he got it done first. He even got Aliser Thorne on side for beheading Janos Slynt. Point is, Jon is capable of defending himself as a leader. He has shed his insecurity about being a bastard and decided to be a king. For him, as soon as he meets Daenerys, that means behaving as stupidly as possible and reverting back to pre-Ygritte Jon, he of the moody silences and pouts. He never mentions dragonglass to her, the whole reason for his coming. Despite his experience with the incredulity of literally every person who has not seen a wight or White Walker, he somehow expects Daenerys to believe him about the army of the dead and to decide to fight against it. This despite, again, every person who hasn’t seen it whom he has tried to cajole into fighting (when he wasn’t in power to make them), having brushed him off. He is suddenly too embarrassed to use the fact of his own resurrection to prove that, just maybe, the dead don’t stay dead. The stupidity snowball avalanches from there, culminating in the worst atrocity committed against Jon’s intelligence in the entire show: the wight hunt.

So that is how the First Class problem happens. Daenerys is reduced to madness and Jon imbecility, but we should still want them to get together despite their characters being hollow images of their former glory. They’re end game, so the writers don’t have to make their romance convincing. Looks are exchanged that are meant to be significant, but we have seen both these characters look at lovers before and, well, these are not those looks. Enemies to lovers is a great trope, but with so little time to nudge that progression along, and with both of them engaged in battles away from the other, there is nothing to build out of any looks that might actually be significant. Worst crime of all: we come back to Explaining How It Is because both Davos and Tyrion are given leaden lines to say that their respective monarchs are obviously in love with the other. If you have to tell, you haven’t shown.

It does get better. Daenerys seeing the army of the dead and losing a dragon softens her character, and Jon realizing the height of his idiocy has harmed her badly is the first genuinely understanding, caring, and, yes, romantic, moment they share. The hand-holding bit, her curiosity about his unexplained scars, his guilt over killing what he learns is her child—that is the good shit right there. If the season had just two more episodes after it instead of one, I fully could have believed them to fall for one another. There just wasn’t time. The writers didn’t let the actors do the work and their dialogue didn’t get it done either. Anything that got built by episode six was premised on character assassination and the worst plot thread since they let Ramsay Bolton torture Theon for three seasons. The center could not hold.

Is it wrong to root for Jon/Daenerys or to find their dry humping set to the tune of Bran monologuing sexy? No. Naked people are frequently sexy. Indeed, the scene, divorced from the narration and the narrative that led to it, as has been populating tumblr since, can be sexy. The show should have done better by the fans who wanted to see it. I’m glad that some of them can still be happy with events. I feel the show failed them because it told them how things were to be instead of letting it just be.

  *Then again, he doesn’t investigate anything further. He learns how the Night King was created, but he never looks to see how the last war against him, in which both men and the Children of the Forest fought together, to learn how they drove him back long enough for Bran the Builder to construct the Wall to keep him out. Seems like that information could be more useful than just occasionally checking in via warged ravens as to how close to said Wall the Night King was traveling.

**Xavier also ends the movie non-consensually erasing the mind of a woman so she cannot know about him or his school. It is framed as being done to protect her from interrogation. He literally mindwipes a woman “for her own good” without her consent. Rape culture, in the mutant world.

***It’s ironic, then, that his major fanfic and now canon pairings are all way more incestuous than him hooking up with Roz the plucky prostitute from the show.

****And possible his non-romantic ones, depending on how you read his post-resurrection scenes with people he clearly loves. Dolorous Edd is Jon’s friend, but they undoubtedly love each other, if Edd’s fury at his death and their relieved hug when Jon lives again are any indication. From there, it can get fuzzy with shipper lenses on. But yeah, Edd was Jon’s friend and the show has forgotten him, which is too bad. Then again, it has isolated Jon from people he loves for the entire season, partially, I think, to make his falling into love with Daenerys more believable.*****

*****It’s not that it couldn’t happen any other way, but if you’re alone, isolated from your loved ones, on a desperate quest no one takes seriously, and a frustrating, beautiful woman even gives you a slightest bit of help, well, romances have been built on less.

******Daenerys is not a mad queen for fighting with dragons on a battlefield. Honestly, compared to the gory horror of amputations, eviscerations, and impaling that went on at the Battle of the Bastards*******, what she does is almost merciful and has a lot less to clean up to prevent corpses from coming back.

*******Still don’t like the show title being the in-canon name for that battle.

[uschickens]

Getting to know you meme

Okay. Okayokayokay. I said I was going to post more, actually engage more, so that requires, you know. Actually posting more. (Plus @momosandlemonsoda has graciously tagged me twice now, with no response from me, and that shall not stand!)

So. That meme thing going around.

Part I

name: Fannishly, I’m uschickens pretty much everywhere. Back in The Olden Times, I used Vix as my first name with uschickens, as in short for Vixen, as in a fox in the henhouse, which, like so many things with me, is so obscure as to only amuse myself.

star sign: Sagittarius, which seems a little ::skeptical headtilt:: at first, until you pair it with my Gemini rising and Virgo moon, and then it becomes a lot more we-know-but-hey-john-mulaney.gif

height: 5'5" (165.1cm)

time: 11:12pm

birthday: every handful of years, it coincides with Thanksgiving, so I get cake AND turkey.

nationality: american

fave bands/groups/solo artists: Like, currently listening to, or of all time, or or or??? This is a loaded question! Recently, Taemin’s Never Gonna Dance album hooked me hard. My other most-played playlists are called “last of the hardcore troubadours,” “frenzied banjos,” and “forest gods,” so I’m working the alt country/folk pop/whatever Florence and her Machine and Hozier have going on. Oh, and the Sleep No More soundtrack, so 1930s jazz, Hitchcockian strings, and edm all mashed together.

song stuck in your head: not even a song, just the one line from Taemin “we were just two kids/too young and dumb” over and over and over on repeat.

last movie you watched: I...have not watched a movie in a long, long time. Possibly a Knives Out rewatch? It Part Two? No, all my media consumption time lately has been devoted to...

last show you binged: All Things Tomb. I started watching reboot in, hmmm, late October? Early November? And with very few exceptions, various dmbj adaptions have been ALL I watched since then. It’s...kind of a problem. It goes in fits and starts, not a true binge since reboot, except for some blocking-out-the-outside-world plunges into Ultimate Note in early January. Reboot is the Tomb of My Heart, with Sha Hai a microscopically close second. Chen Minghao is my one! true! Pangzi, with surfer!Pangzi from tlt2 being a worthy predecessor. I am mostly here for post-Bronze Gate Wu Xies, and I vastly prefer the more realistic fighting style of reboot!Xiaoge than emo!XG, mathnerd!XG, or dancer!XG. But this was supposed to be about a binge, not my Standard Tomb Opinions Dissertation.

when you created your blog: 2010? There was a brief period when apparently I used tumblr for...interior design porn?? Rather than porn porn??? I quickly learned my lesson.

the last thing you googled: firstly, that would be the last thing I duckduckgoed, if we’re being strictly accurate, but I digress. It was [Richard Diebenkorn Guggenheim], part of a long-running conversation with my dad, who is a landscape painter currently going through an abstract expressionism phase. It’s getting wild up in here, folks.

other blogs: as I said, uschickens everywhere, by which I mean Twitter and dreamwidth and ao3.

why i chose my url: back in The Early Days of Livejournal, I lurked even more than I do now, so when I finally took the plunge, I couldn’t resist going with a name that really captured my inner Do Not Perceive Me, crossed with big band music and Louis Jordan. Ergo my tag line was “ain’t nobody here but... [us chickens]”.

how many people are you following: fuck if I know

how many followers do you have: fuck if I care

average hours of sleep: NOT. ENOUGH. But better than it used to be; see also my Twitter for some of the more bizarre paths my mind goes down when I’m in the middle of a juicy bit of insomnia.

lucky numbers: 3

instruments: a couple decades of piano and a solid eight months of French horn.

what i’m currently wearing: the dress I wore to work over pajama bottoms. I’m getting ready for bed, I swear. Halfway there!

dream job: ::hollow laughter:: I feel I would be excellent at being independently wealthy, at which point all my time would be devoted to travel, food, and writing about/photographing that travel and food, plus whatever experimental theater/circus/dance performances I happened to run across. But I shudder to think of actually relying on that sort of writing/photography to earn my keep, because there’s no faster way to kill my joy in a thing than to make it an obligation. Is “dilettante” still a thing? I’d be very good at that.

dream trip: do you want that chronologically or alphabetically? I have spreadsheets! I *will* be going to Singapore once all this ::gestures vaguely at the world:: sorts itself out. There’s a weeklong food tour in Mexico City for which I have lust in my heart. I want to rent a beachside with a million bedrooms for a month and just have friends show up for as much or as little of that month as they want. When I want true escapism, I look at the Aman hotel website, pick a location at random, and decide which suite I would like for a) myself, solo, b) myself with family, c) myself with friends and d) whichever characters currently live in my brain.

fave food: ha, I couldn’t pick a favorite band, and you want me to pick a favorite FOOD? Gumbo. Spaghetti and meatballs (but only good ones). Georgian khachapuri and aubergine satsivi. Fresh strawberries and cream.

top three fictional universe you’d like to live in: something written by Diana Wynne Jones, because it’s always a good mix of fantastic and pragmatic, with fundamentally decent people. Probably Howl and Sophie’s neck of the woods. Star Wars, because fuck it I want a lightsaber. And faster than light space travel. And I can’t think of a third offhand, but something with magic. Because if you’re going fictional, go big fictional or go home.

Part II

last song: the moody acoustic version of the Guardian theme song.

last movie last stream last podcast: We’ve already talked movies, and Vix Does Not Stream, so let’s go to the only thing that means my laundry gets folded in a timely manner - podcasts. I would be remiss in not mentioning the primary ‘castular joy in my life, the I Saw What You Did pod, which is two fortysomething women of color talking nerdily about two movies based on a theme each week. You’ve probably never seen most of these movies, and it doesn’t matter in the slightest. They themselves are a delight, and it’s exactly the sort of chewy discussion over media that I adore, especially because it is not done in an exclusionary, clerk-at-that-one-independent-video-store-who-always-seemed-to-be-sneering-at-your-choices way. Highly recommended. But, uh, the one I really should talk about is All About Agatha, a very good podcast reading and ranking all of Agatha Christie’s novels in order, because it is an excellent segue into...

currently reading: ...the fact that I am a solid 80% of the way through all of Agatha Christie’s novels in audiobook. In, like, the last two months. I haven’t read a book with my eyeballs since ::gestures vaguely at the world again:: (wait, no, I made it through the dmbj novels, for better or for worse), as reading with my eyes seems to be reserved for fic these days. But I am plowing through these audiobooks like it’s a part-time job. What even is life if not narrated by Hugh Fraser at this point? I’m not sure if I recommend the endeavor or not, but I and my knitting and my mystery audiobooks will be over here getting our Miss Marple on as long as possible. (For the record, the audiobooks have edited out some but not all of the egregious bits of racism but left most of the anti-Semitism. So, uh, there’s that.)

currently watching: Mystic Nine, my last full Tomb series. The only I’m not going into preemptive withdrawal is the presence of several side stories on iqiyi with English subtitles. Naturally not the ones I really want (heeeey, Liu Sang vs haunted paint can, plus whatever the hell is going on with Hei Xiazi from last month), but needs must. I suppose after that, I’m back to a reboot rewatch, for fic research purposes, if nothing else. I mean, I suppose I could watch a non-dmbj property? Like the backlog of recommendations I’ve been collecting?? Sounds fake, but okay.

what is antipoetry to you: I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s another form of poetry. Something something even by rebelling against the form one is inherently bound by its concepts, especially when one tries to define oneself in opposition to something one cannot help but be shaped by it blah blah.

currently craving: I could say something existential about what the pandemic has made me yearn for (live! theater! with! friends!), or I could talk about the roast pork from Big Wong’s that I’m seriously contemplating for lunch tomorrow, but what I want most right now is for the goddamn construction crew that dug a hole in the road right outside my window starting at 10pm would finish and go away ASAP.