#remove scenes and change sentences completely to make those characters look worse

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

mfw finding out that the localization of hopes literally cut an entire frame out of a scene

like can we not

can we not try to make felix seem more angry and edgy than he actually is by removing him smiling/not being aggressive for the explicit purpose of making him seem significantly angrier as a person/purposely not portraying him in a good light

like no seriously tell me why they literally went out of their way to remove an entire frame of him when it didn't improve the scene to remove it and instead paints him in a worse light

[mybg3notebook]

Astarion and Power - Part 1

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were made up to the game version v4.1.101.4425. As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

Before talking about Power, Cazador, and other details, I would like to quickly gather what little we have about Astarion’s past. 

Backstory: Mortal Astarion.

About his past we have little information, mostly given by Swen in interviews with game magazines or via his on-live demonstrations of the game early in 2020 before the release of EA. All this information is subjected to changes, of course, so we should take it with a pinch of salt. 

As a mortal, Astarion was a corrupt magistrate who judged criminals he later sent to the local vampire coven of the Szarr family as food. After a while, his greed got the best of him and started to sell those criminals into slavery as well, having a double profit from this. This movement brought the fury of the Szarr family upon him. 

From this short story we can infer that there was a high probability that his judgements were unfair, condemning criminals who needed a death sentence to lighter ones (this is related to his strange comment of “death is a harsh sentence” in Arabella’s scene, see the post Astarion's Standards and Manipulation) while condemning innocent ones; all with the goal of having a decent amount of living creatures to offer to the local vampire or to the slave traders.

We also know, by his own words in game, that when he was turned into a vampire, he had been the victim of an attack of thugs/Gurs (he says this information in different moments of the game, changing details. I don't know if this is on purpose to show Astarion’s manipulative nature depending on your reaction to Gandrel, or it’s a consequence of unpolished details during EA). What we know for sure is that these Gurs/thugs were angry because of a judgement he had previously made. It’s easy for us to infer, using the info above, two situations:

Astarion may have condemned some isolated Gur to an unfair trial who ended up in a slavery network, being discovered later by their Gur fellows who simply avenged them in Baldur’s Gate. This theory has been developed as a way to see fit the concept of Maiden Fel.  If Gandrel dies and Astarion performs a Speak with Dead, he will reveal that Maiden Fel is the head of his tribe who asked him to return with Astarion “unblemished”. Digging for more details about who Maiden Fel is, Gandrel says she is the “reason even monsters have nightmares”. Walking on the speculation ground, there is a chance that Maiden Fel could be a nightmare Hag, since Gurs consider hags as “wise women'', and unlike the rest of the humans, they respect them a bit more than common folks.

Or the whole setting was done by Cazador, who plotted this ambush to make it look as an act of barbarism using furious Gurs (which attack could be seen as an obvious reaction since Gurs are despised everywhere due to their nomadic lifestyle and all the stigmas they carry) as a way to punish Astarion for trying to outsmart him.

Among the many conclusions that we can draw from here is that, if Astarion’s backstory is not retconned and rewritten later in the full game, we can be almost sure he was an Evil-aligned character as a mortal. We can’t say that vampirism twisted his morals; they were rather poor in the first place. 

Astarion, the Vampire spawn

After the bite scene, Astarion presents himself as a vampire spawn, a creature lesser than a slave for his master, since Cazador’s commands are impossible to resist. He explicitly says that his body always reacts to Cazador’s word and for two hundred years he was tormented by him. Thanks to datamining information, we know that Cazador performed an infernal deal, and part of the contract is carved on his back. 

Due to datamining information as well, we know that the first dream that Astarion experiences may not be the one related to the tadpole dreams mechanics since he dreams without having made use of the tadpole powers yet. I prefer to suppose that this dream is product of his own psychology, or even it could be an effect of Cazador’s power on him (maybe he can’t dream of anything but of his Sire, considering how possessive Cazador is)

As I said, this is not a dream of power and desire in the same way that the other companions or Tav have, and for this reason I’m inclined to say that the vampiric power of Cazador is the one making an effect instead of the tadpole (or simply Astarion’s trauma showing). This dream looks like a reminder, like a reiterative dream for Astarion about Cazador’s rule, which are:

rule 1: he will not drink from thinking creatures.

rule 2: he will obey him in all things.

rule 3: he will not leave Cazador’s side unless directed.

rule 4: he will know that he is Cazador’s proprietary.

Most options end up in the similar idea of: “Free? Lie to yourself, boy, but not to me. You are mine, forever.”

Cazador and Astarion

[Astarion has just related what Cazador made him eat] “Flies? What did you do to deserve that?”

“I existed, that was enough for him. He revelled in having power over me, because those with power can do whatever the hell they want.”

If we are going to talk about power with a character as Astarion in mind, we need to talk first about Cazador. Let’s start with the way Astarion describes him:

“The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire. They're scheming, paranoid, power hungry beasts. So why would any vampire give up control over a spawn to create a competitor? Trust me, it doesn't happen.”

“Cazador Szarr is a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power.(...) Not political power or military power. Power over people. The power to control them completely. (...) He turned me nearly two hundred years ago. I became his spawn and he became my tormentor.” 

“He had me go out Baldur’s Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find. It was a fun little ritual of his—I’d bring them back and he’d ask if I wanted to dine with him. And if I said yes, he’d serve me a dead, putrid rat. Of course if I said no, he’d have me flayed. Hard to say which was worse.”

“Cazador liked to make them art, spent all night with a razor, drafting a sonnet on my back. (Puppy eyes) Apparently the more I screamed, the more mistakes he made. And the more editing was required.”

“It was a group of Gur/thugs that attacked me that night in Baldur’s Gate. I would have died had Cazador not appeared and saved me. (...) He chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life. Given that my choices were “eternal life” or “bleed to death on the street”, I took him up on the offer. It was also afterwards I realised just how long “eternity” could be.” 

“Cazador likes to toy with people. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don’t play games unless they know they’ll win.” 

(About Raphael’s encounter) “All that 'take your time. I'll wait' nonsense? He's playing with us. It reminds me of Cazador, taunting his slaves with hope when he knew the game was rigged. "

Tav: “Would he send another Gur to capture?” / Ast: “Yes, he probably thought it was funny.”

(“We can kill him.”) “No, you don't understand. You don't know him. Just trust me when I say we need to be careful. He'll send more lackies – he has plenty of souls to command. We just have to be vigilant. Keep our wits about us. And kill any monster hunters on sight. We can probably make an exception with Wyll... Probably.”

>>So far we know that Cazador has a particular pleasure for control, especially the one related to people’s will. With the nightmare information, we know he has powers related to mind control. He has many slaves, and enjoys cruelty, humiliation, and torture. He enjoys making Astarion eat putrid animals, carving his back with an infernal contract, and playing psychologically with him. He also likes to give false hope, making his victims believe that there is hope, removing it right in front of them. 

I want to highlight that this twisted way of giving hope just to offer a perverted solution to a person’s problem, and enjoying the pleasure caused by the break of the hope, can be seen in Astarion during EA: in the approval that Astarion gives to Tav when you revive Connor, and that pinch of hope in Mayrina turns into horror when she sees Undead!Connor. For Astarion this situation is “funny”. Similar can be said when he approves telling Arabella’s parents that she will be released after the end of the ritual, when she is in fact dead. 

Astarion describes a bit more what power we should expect from a Lord Vampire:

Shapeshift: turning into mist.

Calling wolves to do his bidding.

Shrugging off blows.

He “could walk into our camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands.”

Astarion and Slavery

One of the characteristics that so far in EA has got my attention was how little conflict Astarion has with slavery, despite having been his former condition. 

He is apathetic to slavery in the best case, or even supporting it in the worse case. Proof of this can be found in the Myconid Colony, when interacting with a duergar slave. He speaks as if it were a totally useful tool that inspires little sympathy in him, since they don't have consciousness. However, he leaves a quite open question when finally adding “Or maybe not”.

But this “maybe not” is not left to speculation, we can see what Astarion truly feels with a non-Gur human slave in another part of the game: in the Zhentarim hideout. This can be checked with Oskar, the painter slave.

You can free Oskar using persuasion with his kidnapper (Astarion keeps neutral, he doesn’t approve the freeing). Now, if you can buy Oskar by paying the gold directly or by using intimidation to lower the price, it would keep Astarion neutral until the moment of the payment is stated, which he disapproves. At first I thought it was because he was truly against slavery of thinking creatures... but it was not. It was because you are paying a lot of money (we need to remember Astarion is greedy [1] as well, he wouldn’t be a vampire if it weren't for his greed). 

Once bought, if you keep Oskar as a slave, and you demand him to keep silent because "you want your slaves silent unless they are spoken to", Oskar will think it's a joke, and you, again, can use the option "I don't joke with my slaves" and then Astarion will approve. None of these options is under any tag to make them believe they are part of a preformative act to prank Oskar. And this is key... this is not a joke. They are used as your real sentiments and intentions, and Astarion approves them.

These reactions are not random, they make sense with his—until this moment unchanged or retconned—backstory, where he had no problem trafficking with criminals as vampire food and later as slaves to have higher profits. So, these two aspects remain in his vampire nature unaltered: the most important thing is always to have profits, and his relationship with slavery is absolutely fine as much as it gives benefits, it’s useful or at least, gives him some entertainment.

The tadpole

We know the tadpole has a particular effect on Astarion. Unlike the other companions, Astarion doesn’t dream of a person who represents to him both desire and power. Power? undoubtedly, but desire? It’s hard to say. The implied, vague concept that Astarion has been sexually abused by Cazador is there (because we know these dreams are about “sensual” desire as well). 

It’s maybe a consequence of the vampirism and, by extension, of Cazador’s power, that makes Astarion unable to dream of anything else but his master. From the datamining information about the non-tadpole dream of Astarion, in which Cazador lists four rules, we know that the fourth one is about never stopping to be Cazador’s propriety, unable to be free, not even in dreams. Maybe Cazador’s effect also applies to Astarion’s dreams as well (but this is a mere speculation, there is no real proof of it on EA or datamining info so far). 

So when Astarion awakes in the beach and sees that some rules of his vampiric nature have been changed, he gets excited about the tadpole, and unlike the rest of the companions, he doesn’t want to get rid of it. He wants to master it, to have control of it. However, when the opportunity of controlling the tadpole appears with Raphael encounter, Astarion is one of the few companions who is completely against it at first. 

“Raphael is playing with us; Cazador liked to toy with people too. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don't play games unless they know they'll win.”

In that moment, he claims he won’t change a vampiric master for an infernal one. However, when the first use of the Tadpole causes the first symptoms of transformation evident, Astarion falls in despair: he is scared and, calling for Raphael to take him from the camp, he says a curious phrase: 

“I would choose servitude over oblivion any day”

So, after this moment, he is not completely convinced that Raphael is the true solution to his problem but he is more open to keep him as a plan B if anything else fails. Later he claims that it doesn't matter to be a servant of a devil, because he knows Cazador, and he wants to get rid of his power for good. 

“I won't lie, it's tempting. If I keep the tadpole, I risk transforming into a grotesque monster. If I lose the tadpole, Cazador has control of me, body and soul, and I return to the shadows. It's grim either way, so why not sell what's left of my soul to a devil? Better he has it than cazador. Whatever it's coming we need to have our options open.”

Astarion’s process of seeing the potential of the power of the tadpole increases along the game. It gets higher and wilder. The first instances of the tadpole use are about Astarion discovering how much this tadpole gives him powers he can barely understand. 

“The tadpoles are not so bad at all. (...) First I can walk in the sun, then make people dance like puppets? *laughs * I've certainly had worse days.”

He is not an idiot, he knows that, without control, they will end up turning into mind flayers, so he needs to find something powerful that can give him control over his tadpole. This is the reason why he encourages the use of the tadpole after knowing about the netherese magic containing the transformation via Omellun or Ethel.

Ethel explains that the tadpole had been tampered, so the dialogue goes:

Tav: “It's giving us more time, sounds good to me”. 

Astarion: “Perhaps. And who's to say it can't be tampered with further?” (She said it was netherese magic) “it must be powerful magic to stop the parasite in its tracks, I wonder what else it could do?

At that point in the story, he knows that the netherese magic is powerful enough to contain the transformation: so he is now sure that there is more time to use it. So he will end up being the only companion in EA who encourages everyone to use the power:

“What's not to enjoy (with this tadpole)? I can walk in sunlight, trespass upon any home, manipulate minds – I'm the most powerful vampire in the realms. Granted, the looming doom is an issue, but why not enjoy the benefits while we can?

Despite the nightmares happening after every use of the tadpole powers, Astarion doesn’t want to stop. At this point, he is the only companion who doesn’t want to. 

“The power to twist a mind to your will is worth some nightmares.”

By the end of the game, we are sure that Astarion wants this power without doubts. He revels in the power of mind-controlling people, ironically, despite having suffered so much of it under Cazador’s control. If we see all the situations where Astarion’s mind is controlled, or violated, his reactions will be extremely more aggressive than the other companions. He has suffered it a lot, but by the end of EA he is enjoying being on the other side of that power. 

This post was written on April 2021. → For more Astarion: Analysis Series Index

[ishouldreallybeelsewhere]

okay so that loki video essay thing was going well, and then like a day into writing it i lost the hyperfixation so it's never gonna be finished. i still think it's alright, completely unedited, entirely a train of thought, i hope you like commas and pacific rim, it's only 2.8k

btw if something doesn't make sense, i was writing this while watching some video essays, and also haven't read it

Introduction

Loki is a show, well you know that, but a show that does everything right, until it doesn’t (crazy, I know). If you’re here, I assume you’ll already know a fair bit about it, but if you don’t, here’s a quick refresher. Spoilers for everything MCU.

Loki begins in 2012, technically, just after the Avengers go back through time from Endgame to meet themselves and grab the infinity stones. Unfortunately, the plan goes awri, and Loki ends up in possession of the Tesseract, the mind stone. With this, he teleports to a desert in [a place] and is quickly arrested and apprehended by the Time Keepers for ‘Crimes Against the Sacred Timeline.’ Sounds a bit cult-y if you ask me, and given that you’re stuck here, you will ask me. Essentially, his actions (taking the tesseract) were not supposed to happen. They created a branch, a new timeline, and, according to the TVA, if left unchecked, the timeline could cause a multiversal war that would result in the end of time. This is, to put it simply, a very interesting premise, and the first two episodes do a wonderful job of exploring the TVA and searching for the mysterious Loki variant who causes chaos and mischief, all while evading the time cops.

What is the TVA? Well, it’s the Time Variance Authority, which clears up nothing to those who haven’t seen the show. I would let a clip explaining it play, but I think I’d get a copyright strike, even though I’m fairly sure it’s within fair use. Regardless, the TVA is an organisation supposedly created by the Time Keepers, space lizards who brought together all of time into a singular sacred timeline. Had they not done this, time itself would have ended, how they did this is unexplained, and likely either impossible, or they are greater than gods in their power. Loki is immediately doubtful, but can’t deny that they must hold some power, because not only does his magic not work in the TVA, but infinity stones are useless too. Time is also stranger there too, more an idea as opposed to a set part of their reality. Many theorise that they reside within the quantum realm, which makes sense, as that is how one travels through time, at least in the marvel universe, but we can’t be sure until we get an explanation. Of course, I’m writing this long before I’ll see the finale, so who knows, perhaps I’ll have to rewrite it.

Now I’ve said all that without explaining what the TVA actually does. It’s pretty simple, similar to Stephen Hawking’s (???) ideas of the multiverse, every decision you make has the ability to make another timeline, one that is not part of the sacred way of time, and therefore must be pruned by the TVA before it grows enough to cause another multiversal war, despite multiverses being well-established in the MCU, but I know that’s different. Or perhaps the Time Keepers are lying (spoiler, they are, just not exactly in that way). Anyway, when someone makes a decision or takes an action that creates a new timeline, the TVA arrives. Minutemen arrest the ‘Variant’ responsible, despite their lack of intentional crime, and prune the new timeline, which we are told destroys it. Then Variants must stand trial for their crimes, in which they can either plead guilty or not, but really, that doesn’t make much difference, as they’re unable to make a case, let alone get away as innocent. Before they reach the court, however, Variants are dressed in TVA jumpsuits, have to sign off every word they’ve ever said, and a snapshot of their temporal aura is taken, for some reason. Yeah, it’s not really ever explained why they have to go through all that, like, why don’t they just prune them all, or just send them straight to court. It seems like they’re putting on a big show for nothing. Of course, if you have to go through all that, you probably won’t have time to think about the whys of your situation, which I’m sure the TVA uses to their advantage.

Now, we’re heading into real spoiler-y stuff, just in case anyone here hasn't watched episode three. If you haven’t, why are you here? Go, finish the whole series, and then come back. Alrighty. Now that everyone’s seen it all (apart from me at this point) we can continue.

Everyone working at the TVA is a Variant, and they don’t know it. The Time Keepers are said to have created everything within the TVA, every analyst, Minuteman, and whatever the other roles are. But that’s not true. They’re all variants who’ve been taken from their own timelines and had their memories wiped. This gives an explanation for the courtrooms, and the process to get into them. Robots will be melted from the inside out if they go through the temporal aura machine thingy, and I have a feeling it’s harder to reset a robot’s memories. Living beings are let through, and their actions in the courtroom could give a good overview of their strengths and intelligence, so it can be decided whether they’ll be pruned or ‘reset’ which we are told is killed, but with the information of them all being variants now available, is more likely having all their memories hidden, replaced with the idea that they’ve been at the TVA their whole lives, and that they were created by the timekeepers. Though why would space lizards create workers in the image of humans instead of like their own lizard-y selves. The TVA as a whole, as we are introduced to it, feels very cult-y. Things such as the videos Variants are shown upon being arrested, the whole ‘Sacred Timeline’ thing, the Time Keepers being viewed as almost gods, and that when one of the TVA’s own minutemen is told the truth (C-20) she is, well, removed. The TVA views Variants as criminals of the highest order. How dare they violate the sacred timeline?!!? Only, no variant knew that what they were doing was wrong, or that it even mattered, but if you’re late to work on a day where you weren’t supposed to be, then you’re removed from your timeline and charged. The sentence? Essentially death, or removal of all your memories and being lied to about everything, which might be worse depending on your stance on that kind of thing.

Anyway, the minutemen themselves are another issue that the TVA has. They respond with violence at every available opportunity, like when a young french child from the 1500s walks into a church, the first thing a minuteman does is reach for his weapon. This is also the scene where we’re introduced to my favourite character, Mobius, but more on him later. For now, I need to stay on track and keep in mind this part of the view has to remain consistent. All I can think of are the nerds I split. It seems I have an inability to stay on topic, however, I’m gonna try so you have fun keeping up with that.

Loki stood trial for crimes against the Sacred Timeline and, like any logical person may in that situation, relentlessly questions the validity of his conviction. The answers he’s provided with he just,, kind of,, disagrees with, which is fair. The concept of the TVA and the sacred timeline as a whole is absurd to him, as who would a god serve?

Part one: Glorious Purpose

Loki, in his own words, it ‘Burdened With Glorious Purpose.’ I’m so glad no one but me is gonna read this draft cuz I managed to spell many of those words wrong. His glorious purpose, in his eyes, is becoming the ruler of all, removing free will and choice from those beneath him, in a twisted attempt to make it easy for all living things. He believes in free will, at least, the free will of himself, and also believes that, out of everyone in the universe, he is the one who is right, the one who can make the world better, that is his burden. Now, you may look at that and think, ‘hey, for a god of mischief, that doesn’t seem very mischievous,’ and you’d be right. It isn’t. He’s evil, like, without a doubt, an evil person in his ideals and views of the universe, however, the change from mischief to villainy was rapid, as it’s shown that he was D.B. Cooper, and, when asked, said it was because he was ‘young and lost a bet to Thor’, which, like, okay, but that was the 60s or something. 50 years aren’t a lot in the face of 1,500, but a lot can happen then

Part something: ethics

So, as you’ve probably gathered by now, I’m a pretentious asshole, and with that comes three years of philosophy classes and a superiority complex, though perhaps that comes from the whole leftist thing. Anyway, as per usual, I got sidetracked. I’m watching a really good video atm, so lots of things are happening in my head right now. Back to being pretentious, I’m going to be talking about ethics, fun, and how that relates to the TVA, the sacred timeline, Kang, sorry, he who remains. Regarding the whole Kang thing, I haven’t read a single Marvel comic since I was a member of the comic book club 4(???) years ago. Gods, I’m so old. Yup Percy Jackson took up too much of my childhood. Sidetracked again! I apologise, anyway, everything I know about Kang the Conqueror comes from Tumblr, so I’m not going to spend any time talking about any parts of the character that aren’t shown in the show. I really want to be writing about Doctor Who right now but I have my notes up so I’m gonna do this. Okay, right. Ethics. I hope I don’t go into free will right now because I will never stop going on about that. Anyway, let's look at the TVA, ignoring Kang, not for simplicity, but to see if the ends do in fact justify the means as Mobius said. And by that I mean, if what employees of the TVA think is true, are their actions justified? Finally got to the point, after how many words? Too many, anyway, let’s start from the start (kinda).

In an actual, proper, organised essay, I think that whole last paragraph was supposed to be 1 (one) sentence long, maybe. I have been writing year nine level essays for many years, despite not being in year nine for many, many years, so, be glad you’re reading something I’m interested in. Back to the topic at hand, please. Sorry I just got distracted again. I shouldn’t have Tumblr open atm. Anyway, what are the TVA’s means? So, I’ve already explained what the TVA is, and what it does, but let’s use a fun example to show what they really do. Imagine you’re a kid (or maybe you are a kid, so imagine you’re a younger one) and you just got home from school. You just made an awesome new friend who believes in you and loves your art. This sparks your interest in art, leading to countless pieces, days and days spent drawing and painting and having a great time. Your art begins to take hold on the world, speaking to people, letting them believe in themselves, thousands upon thousands of people inspired to start their own art, to rebel against the system of capitalism and teach people that there’s more to life than a job. This begins the global radicalisation of the working class, and with that, rebellion and the downfall of capitalism. I’m in a good mood rn, feeling optimistic, so don’t worry about what’s happening. Anyway, with the downfall of human exploitation and eradication of poverty comes a branch in the Sacred Timeline, and as the root of it is you as a child making a friend, your 5-year-old self just committed a crime that, according to the TVA, is worthy of what they believe to be actual death, like, being pruned.

Now, this was a very umm, off-the-top-of-my-head example, and entirely makes no sense, but give me two seconds and I’ll remember my original point. Right. The risk of allowing the downfall of capitalism is the end of all time. Always. Maybe? But, in the eyes of the TVA, kidnapping a 5-year-old, putting them through a dehumanising process to be shoved in a courtroom and being accused of crimes against the sacred timeline, and what was the crime? Making a goddamn friend. As a child. Being supported in art. Doing what you enjoy, destroying oppressive systems that will eventually be the downfall of us all and so entwined with all the problems in the world that any chance of saving it revolves around its deconstruction. I’ve been hunched over too long and my back is really starting to hurt, but the essay must go on. And remember, the domino effect of that friendship never actually happened. The timeline was pruned before it could happen, so the crime is literally making a friend. Very extreme example sorry, but shock makes your point go across faster, and also sparks outrage, which I don’t want to happen, but with doing literally anything comes backlash, like stepping on the wrong leaf, or a butterfly. I hope you guys know that this is unplanned and probably unedited. Okay I need to watch Pacific Rim again. Okay imagine now they kill the child. Right. That’s likely what would happen. Children are weak (usually, Sylvie is just on another level of awesome) [author’s note, Crimson Peak is a horror movie and I’m very upset by that cuz now I won’t be able to watch it]. Alright, so, kill a child, or destroy all of time. Always. Maybe. The way we see the TVA in the first two episodes is through Loki’s eyes, as a cult-like lie with a cool retro/futuristic aesthetic (like Doctor Who, but more on that later). I have been sitting here for 4 hours and I can confidently say my cat is an asshole whose sole purpose in life is to want to come in right when I’m in the middle of a point only to not want to come in but allow me to lose exactly what I was about to say, meaning I’ve gotten next to nothing done. Hi, I'm back. I got distracted by My Little Pony and Pacific Rim. And checkers. Issues with pacing? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Okay, so, I’m going to say something possibly controversial. When the stakes are the endings of the entirety of time, it’s okay to let a child die, and technically they might not die they’d just be sent to be either devoured the void or saved by a ragtag team of loki variants. Which is not great. That might sound like I agree with the TVA, but trust me, I do not. Not in the slightest. I hate the slimy bastards. (I do love every single character though, like all of them are awesome) The prickly pricks will bury us all!!! I don’t agree with them because I think there is a better way to handle the multiversal problem and the issue that arises regarding the particular cause of the multiversal war. That made no sense. You’re really just gonna have to guess at this point, however, for the solution, we must look into the finale and the reasoning behind He Who Remains’ plan. I said I wasn’t going to talk about him, but I lied (rule number one). Basically, from what I understood of his plan (which wasn’t much, I’m pretty stupid) was that there were two options; option number one was to leave him there, looking over all of time, preventing free will, so that the infinite variants of him that would come from timelines wouldn’t once again attempt to conquer all of the timelines (though if there are infinite ones, how would that work? Just kidding, you’re not allowed to question this). He dictates all. There’s no such thing as free will, and if you dare veer off the path, you will be pruned, and your timeline destroyed. His plan is to hand that power over to Loki and Sylvie, because he’s getting old and has lived long enough. The other option (and the one that’s taken in the show) is to allow Sylvie to kill He Who Remains and let the multiverse unfold, allow free will and chaos to reign, with the possibility and established likelihood of the destruction of time itself. Now, just putting this out here, what if there was a third option? My proposition is based of knowing next to nothing and not having seen Loki in a while, and that is,

[nhatlynguyennln]

HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

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HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

Link Video:

Opening

Following the resounding success of the 2001 animated classic Spirited Away, director Hayao Miyazaki continued to release a Japanese animated fantasy Howl’s moving castle. The film was inspired by the 1986 novel of the same name by British author Diana Wynne Jones.

Most Studio Ghibli fans turn to the book after watching the movie. This caused a little disappointment, a bit of “disillusionment” for the ladies who put too many dreams into the handsome wizard Howl in the movie. Although both the novel and the movie revolve around the two main characters – Sophie and Howl, there are huge differences in the storyline and character construction that cause both the novel and the film to turn in two directions.

Stay tuned with ASK KPOP until the end of the video to see what made “romantic fiction” fans disillusioned with the difference between novels and movies Howl’s moving castle.

Body

Sophie Hatter, a girl born into a family of hat makers, does not believe that luck will come to her and she will do something great in her life. She decided she would spend the rest of her life looking after the hat shop her father left. But her life changes after being cursed by the Witch of the Waste, turning her into an old woman, and worse yet, she can’t tell anyone about it. Fearing that her family would no longer recognize her, Sophie set out to find a way to cure the curse, and then arrived at Wizard Howl’s castle. Since then there is a big difference between books and movies, especially the plot and character lines.

The difference in the story between the novel and the movie

Because the novel Howl’s moving castle was written for children by writer Diana Wynne Jones, these factors such as : magic ,humor, fantasy come first. The content of the novel mainly tells about Sophie’s journey to break the curse. In that journey, Sophie has discovered the true strength of herself and the good qualities of those around her. However, when it was adapted to the big screen, director Hayao Miyazaki incorporated many lofty messages about love, peace, and anti-war.

Throughout the movie, we see a fight break out between Ingary (the land of Howl and Sophie is in) and the neighboring country, whereas there is no fierce battle in the original novel.

The whole movie revolves around the theme of anti-war, and its true villain is the pointless war and cause the loss. However, the original story directs the reader towards Sophie’s journey to find herself, how Sophie realizes her worth, which is partly through the movie. Coming to the movie, you will experience the brutal combat scene, the dark battleships .As for the book, Howl has to confront the Witch of the Waste and her powerful fire demon. The two missions of the movie and the novel have different message stories with different audiences, both great stories with their own merits.

The difference in the character’s personality between the novel and the movie

The second most highlighted difference between the novel and the movie is the characters. The characters in the book and in the movie are transformed from the original. Some minor characters have been removed or merged together with other characters. Characters with significant changes include:

(Howl)

Howl in the movie is a perfect version, a “Prince Charming” with many advantages in personality: courteous, gentle, and also the hero of fighting to protect Sophie.If you are familiar with this Howl image then Please be mentally prepared before reading the novel of the same name. Real name’s Howl  is Howell Jenkins, from Wales. It is mentioned in the book that the castle door leads to different places according to the color on the door, and the blackness opens into a dark night. However, the side when that black curtain was Wales in the 1980s, with modern equipment such as cars and computers . This is not mentioned in the movie.

In terms of personality, Howl in the novel is actually a “lady-killer” who flirts with so many beautiful ladies and any girl will not escape by him, until they fall in love with him, he leaves without leaving a trace. This was also the source of his trouble with the Witch of the Waste Throughout the novel, Howl spends most of his time dressing and grooming in order to win the hearts of beautiful girls, including her sister Sophie. The rest of the time, Howl sulked and acted like a child beside Sophie. Howl in the novel does not want to tie and always tries to avoid responsibility. But the more we read, the more we like Howl in the novel, because his personality is especially funny and witty. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell myself I’m not doing it.”  Throughout the novel, we see only a Howl chasing the girls, his words in the last chapter confuse readers and other characters: Howl is still searching and saving people from being lost from the Witch. Meanwhile, he tells himself “I’m not doing it”.

Howl in the movie gets rid of Howl’s flaws of the novel. Because the movie’s message is hind-minded about peace protection and anti-war, a heroic character is needed to be able to send the message to the audience. The hero in the movie is Howl, he is idealized in the film, becomes a hero fighting for peace, denouncing the destructive power of war. When the court asked Howl to go to war, Howl refused ,not for his cowardness. He knew from which side the war was coming from, then the end was like that for everyone, just bring pain only. However, at night, Howl quietly turns into a monster out to fight alone, fighting against planes and monsters that both sides release to tear each other up. It is an ideal, incredibly romantic image of a hero fighting evil, fighting for peace, and fighting for the things he loves. In the end, Howl in both the novel and movie has to face Howl’s problems and settle it.

(Sophie)

Sophie in the novel has red hair, stubborn, straightforward, and always seems angry after being cursed. She sees cleaning as a way to forget about the problem she is facing. She often talks to hats, clothes, objects around and this brings miracles, even life to them. Meanwhile, Sophie in the movie has brown hair and is much softer. She also knows how to control her emotions better, and she cleans out of order. However, Sophie in the movie has no magical powers. This is most noticeable in the part where Sophie meets Turnip-Head. Turnip-Head in the story is an inanimate scarecrow, but gets up and follows Sophie after hearing her talk. In the movie, Turnip-Head had life when Sophie met him. While the-story Sophie was very scared of Turnip Head and wanted to chase him many times, the Sophie-movie was friendly, even grateful to the Turnip-Head.

Sophie in the story has sent a message: “When we are young, let us go out and explore ourselves, we will find our power hidden and know what our strength is. and where is our limit. ” That is a very precious meaning that Sophie’s journey to find herself brings back.

  (Author)

Author Diana Wynne Jones observed that Howl and Sophie on-screen seemed “softer and more noble than their characters in my book.” In the movie, we really liked how Howl became “lost” as he transformed into a giant crow in battles and gradually “couldn’t return.” Meanwhile, Sophie’s curse fades more and more as she becomes stronger to save Howl and to heal herself. These details are not included in the book. However, I also want to say that Howl and Sophie in the book seem more real and that the quarrel between the two is what makes me appreciate their feelings more; love each other and learn to accept each other’s imperfections.

(Witch)

She was once a charming, powerful woman. Howl in the novel once chased and abandoned her. Both the story and the movie show Howl once captured a shooting meteor and gave it his heart in exchange for power, which is Calcifer. However, the sorceress in the novel cursed Howl to complete a list of things to do and they slowly led Howl back to her hand. In the movie, the witch tries to cast a curse on Howl, but he easily removes it. In the end, she lost her magic and became a pitiful, harmless old woman.

()

There are also some minor differences in the side characters. Sophie in the novel has two younger sisters, Lettie and Martha. Lettie is the younger sister sent to learn magic, and Martha is the assistant at the bakery. These two sisters exchanged looks and names in the beginning. Lettie is a huge support character in the series, even part 2 is present. However, the film only mentions Lettie – the sister at the bakery, and she can only say a sentence or two to Sophie and finish. Howl has an apprentice. In the book, he names Michael Fisher , a teenager. And, in the movie he names Markl , a boy. In the story, Suliman is the Royal Mage, male and missing. On screen, Suliman is a female magician who taught Howl before, and she is a bit mean.

  Ending

“Howl’s Moving Castle” is a film with a stunning image and a beautiful European context, but it does not lose the Japanese culture, oriental styles of Ghibli. The good soundtrack both “The Promise With The World” and “Merry Go Round of Life” are great tunes but for us  “Merry Go Round of Life” is still more beautiful, the scene of Howl holding Sophie’s hand , two people walking in the air together forever is a very beautiful, very romantic scene that is hard to describe in words.

Howl’s Moving Castle is not just a love story, a magical adventure and heart-fluttering romance, but also a story of growth and a journey to find oneself. Whether it’s a novel or a movie, the film’s meaningful message is expressed in tolerance, forgiveness after struggles, hatred, and curse. In addition, the extraordinary life energy of the people who have suffered many injuries in the film overcoming all the difficulties to achieve a happy destination is also the message that the filmmakers send to the audience.

[weareallfallengods]

Flight from Grace Chapter 1 - A small stumble

The long-awaited complete 1st chapter of my WIP novel! I started this over 6 months ago and I’m finally getting into the swing of it.

Synopsis: What happens when a Fallen Angel with no memory of her own eternal past meets a woman who can see her for who she really is? A head on collision between the world as we know it and an eternal battle between the immortals tasked with safeguarding the mortal realm. 

Grace can see things she shouldn’t be able to; after all, immortals have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we can’t see them as they really are, so Something Has Changed, and she and her Fallen Angel will find out what’s going on, and why they seem to always be stuck in the middle of it all.

Themes: Angels and Demons, examination of mortality and our understanding of and belief in the supernatural as well as the eternal nature of existence. The battle between good and evil, and how no one is ever what they seem to be when we look past prejudices and social judgements. LGBTQ+, proper ethnic and cultural representation (read: most characters aren’t straight or white!).

Triggers: If you don’t like stories that put an often irreverant and sacriligeous spin on Christian mythos, this isn’t for you. LGBTQ+ romance, slow burn, non-explicit.

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“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Some neanderthal interrupted my deep contemplation of the double whiskey sour in front of me. Which was very rude. Whiskey sours demand your undivided attention and get cranky if ignored for too long. He should have known that, but either he didn’t know or didnt care, so either way- neanderthal.

He was leaning on the bar with the casual air of someone who has done this same dance too many times, the practiced ease of a used car salesman slapping the roof of a car. At least this one’s breath wasn’t too foul. Not that this hadn’t happened before. Oh no, I’d never been badly hit on in this bar like ten thousand times already. No that never happened. I was able to just sit in peace with my drink for the entire night. Yeah, right. Why do I keep coming back then, you ask? Well, Grace makes one hell of a whiskey sour for one thing.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Ugh, this one wasn't going away with simply being ignored. Lovely.

“Excuse me?” I looked over languidly, with as much disdainful irritation on my face as I could possibly muster from the depths of my three-drinks-in soul.

“I said, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

His stupid shit-eating leer didnt help my mood any. I wasn’t ever in a good mood if I showed up here, and that’s probably one of the reasons I kept coming back- assholes like this gave me a vent for my foul mood.

“No actually. It’s less of a fall and more of a stumble really. More like getting tossed out of a club by a bouncer than falling down the stairs. Couple of bruises, a minor scrape, more damaged pride than anything really.”

I could see his monkey-brain churning slowly to try and digest my response that didn’t fit his pre-programmed scenario. I half expected to see steam coming out of an ear. God, some men are just so... ew.

“Um, what?”

Apparently I broke him. Well, that happens sometimes, when I give someone a response they weren’t expecting. Which happens more often than I’d be willing to admit to myself.

“I said that getting tossed out of heaven doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would. It’s not that far of a tumble really.”

He chuckled, “That’s real cute darlin’, never heard that one before! How’s about you and me find a table so I can hear more about it? Maybe have a look at those bruises, make sure you don't need more…attention.”

Sweet Mother of Mikhail, that was bad. Like even worse than his initial pickup line. I almost had to respect his commitment to such a shitty way of trying to pick me up. He had some balls, that’s for sure, either from drunken stupidity or pure ignorant self-confidence. They say that bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, and here was their shining example.

“Believe me sweetie, you don’t want my 'attention’,” I said softly, for the first time raising my eyes to lock with his glazed gaze. “My attention can become very… uncomfortable.”

He started to smirk for just a split second, but when my eyes met his, both the smirk and the color melted from his face. His mouth hung slack as he felt his soul staring down the opening fiery abyss that he found reflected in my eyes. I watched his mind recoil in horror at the emptiness it saw as it tried futilely to pull back from the horror of empty infinity it was confronted with. I saw in his eyes the sudden awareness of how small and insignificant his place in the universe was, and shrink in horror, trying to flee internally only to find that there’s no escape from your own mind and the finality of human existence.

I looked away just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. No need to cause a scene with him passing out. After all, my whiskey sour was crying from being ignored. As they do.

“I think you should probably go home now Blake,” I demurred softly. “You’ve probably had enough, and your wife would be happy if you tucked the children into bed for once. Oh, and coffee won’t remove the smell of alcohol, so just have a peppermint. Your kids like that smell, reminds them of Christmas.”

He kind of half nodded, like a sleepwalker. I sighed. Hopefully he doesn't have an existential crisis later and just shrugs it off as being too drunk. Hell, maybe he’ll cut back on the sauce. I hate it when I hear about someone offing themselves after meeting me, especially if they have kids. Well, hopefully he just takes the daily inebriation down a notch or two. I can hope, can’t I?

As he shuffled off, lager forgotten at the bar, I hoped he’d be alright. Genuinely. Sure, I enjoyed taking my frustration at being stuck here out on them, but I didn't actually wish them lasting harm. A lesson or two in politeness and decency, a minor scuffle to break up the monotony, but no real damage. That’s what I told myself anyway. Made it easier to pretend to sleep at night. Hope he makes it home ok. Hope his kids get a happy memory of daddy saying goodnight for once. Hope he says he loves his wife, and apologizes. Hah. Yeah. Like that’ll happen. But, what can I say, I’m a foolish optimist at heart. And nothing hurts more than having your hopes crushed. I should know.

Damn. My drink was crying, a small puddle of condensation soaking into the bar napkin it rested on. Again. Another sigh. And one more for the first sigh. I hate sighing. It’s the most comprehensive sound of the acceptance of defeat ever created. The acknowledgment of futility. And I hate that. I thought I’d be fighting to the bitter end, but apparently Destiny had other plans. Fucking Destiny. She’s the whole reason I’m even drinking in the first place.

“Get you a fresh one?”

A sweet silver-bell tinkle of a voice broke my unintentional reverie. Grace was back, checking on me. She knew my peccadilloes by now. She knew how much I hated when my drink got watered down by the ice melting if it got ignored for too long. I nodded.

She smiled pleasantly and slid over a new drink, already prepped.

“I figured, after that creep pounced on ya.”

I frowned slightly. There was something different about this one. Hunh. Oh, the ice. There wasn’t any. There were two black cubes sitting in it instead. OK, why are there rocks in my drink?

I looked up at Grace, still slightly puzzled.

“Oh those? Yeah I noticed you didn’t like it when your drink gets watered down, so I bought some Irish whiskey stones! That way your drink stays cold, but doesn't dilute. Got 'em special, just for you.”

I cocked one eyebrow slightly, “Just for me?”

“Yep! Let’s face it, you’re the only one who comes in here with that kind of class, so I put 'em in the freezer back here with a big 'ol note so Jimmy doesn’t think I’m crazy for keeping rocks in the fridge,” her airy chuckle sprinkled across my ears.

I stared. I was in shock. OK, well maybe I’m being dramatic, but I was still surprised. People don’t normally do nice things for me. Or to me for that matter. If I’m honest, they mostly run away.

“Why…” I couldn't even formulate a coherent sentence. Jesus, get yourself together!

“I dunno, I just figured you don't seem like you have anyone looking out for you, and you seem to attract a lot of the wrong sort of attention, so I thought you could use a nice surprise, y’know, cheer you up a little.”

I nodded, more in surprise than agreement. I literally couldn’t recall the last time someone voluntarily tried to do something nice, just for me, no hope or expectation of reward or compensation. I was probably silent a little too long for a comfortable conversation. Hey, I was revelling in the new experience, cut me some slack.

“Well. Wow, um, thanks.” Yeah real smooth. Sweet Mikhail’s Grave I have no idea how to actually talk to this woman.

In retrospect, that should have been my first clue, but hey, I was a little distracted.

“I appreciate it, that’s really sweet of you.” Ok that’s slightly less glaringly awkward.

“Not trying to be rude at all, but I gotta ask- what’s your deal? Like you come in here all the time, lookin’ like a million bucks, never talk to anyone, get in fights every so often, get harassed like every single time but you keep coming back? I mean, I’m not trying to pry if you don’t wanna talk, but you know, like I’m totally trying to pry!”

Now it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. Oh Fates, how your twists are cruel. I closed my mouth a lot faster than the sot from earlier though, so my pride wasn't too damaged.

“It’s kind of a long and uninteresting story really. Mostly, you make the best whiskey sour. And the people here are…interesting.”

“Honey, there’s no way a story coming from someone who looks like that,” she waved generally up and down at me, “could possibly be boring. Plus, it’s slow, as always, so humor me.”

Sometimes, I can be kind of thick. Slow. Moronic. A nincompoop. A maroon. Several minutes of conversation with this girl and I only just now noticed- she hadn’t looked away from my eyes. She was meeting my gaze with no problem. She wasn't sweating and shaking and passing out. She was looking me right in the eye, just like a normal person, no fear showing on her face. No reaction at all. Just a normal girl, having a normal conversation, with what she thought was another normal person.

“Are…you OK?” Grace looked a bit concerned.

Aw shit, I was staring, and not even trying to hide it. Well now I felt dumb. And, why did I feel dumb? What was up with this girl that she made me feel so self conscious, so uncomfortable, like one of those fainting goats that just freezes and falls over when you blink too hard at them. Speaking of blinking really hard.

“Um, oh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Really. Sorry, just not many people actually want to have a real conversation with me.”

Grace leaned over the bar a little, propping up on her elbows, lowering her tone a bit. “Well, I don’t know why, 'cuz you sure seem hella interesting to me.”

“Hunh. Well, I don't know about that. But I would like to ask you something first, if you don't mind?”

“Fire away honey!”

“This might sound odd, but, why aren’t you looking away? What do you see when you look at me?”

She pulled a tiny bit closer. “Nothin’ more than just about the sparkly-est green eyes I ever seen; a dash of blue, like the Bahamas. Somethin’ else I can't quite put my finger on…” as she trailed off, I felt her finger lightly brush the knuckles on my hand that was still holding my drink. “I kinda wanna find out though.”

OK, now that was smooth. Holy fuck, that was really, really smooth. Like two hundred year old Laphroaig single malt filtered through the blessed socks of His Holiness the Pope smooth. Hold up, now she was trying to pick me up? What the hell universe? What’s going on here?

I swallowed, unable to look away now myself. “That’s all? Nothing that scares you?”

“Not yet, sugar.”

Alright, that’s different.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I grabbed her hand. Maybe a little too hard from the slight wince I saw.

“OK we need to leave. NOW.”

“Hold up honey, we were just talkin’, we ain’t there yet!” She tried pulling back a little.

“No, no, you don’t understand! I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be able to see that. I can’t explain right now, but we have to figure out how you can see me that way.”

“But my shift’s not over for a couple more hours!”

“OK OK, I’m not being clear, sorry, this is the first time this has happened, so I’m a little shaken.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She actually blushed a little. “I just saw how you shot down every guy who came up to you, and I thought….well, you know, maybe…omg I’m sorry I didn't mean to upset you! I come on strong sometimes, when I’m interested in something, and when you first walked in, I saw those heels and that dress, and I just was like ‘oh wow’ and kinda couldn’t breathe for a minute, you know I don't see many girls come here lookin’ like that and oh God now I’m babbling and someone please shut me up I'm so sorry…”

I put a finger over her lips, gently.

“I’m not upset. Far from it actually. But we have something a tiny bit more urgent than that to address. I’m not who you think I am. Or what, I should say. But more to the point, there’s something bigger going on here. And I need to find out what. Fast.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad I hit on you?”

“We don’t have time for that now!” She recoiled slightly at my vehemence. “No, I’m not upset, but that’s not the point! You shouldnt be able to see my eyes. My real ones anyway. I was too slow on picking that up right away, and I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, now, because something is different, and in my world, that’s never a good thing.”

“Your world?”

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but I’ll explain later! I need you to come with me now. We need answers, and we need them fast. So, do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Yeeeeees? I think? Like I wanna, but I don’t really know you?”

“Good enough for now! Let’s go!”

To her credit, she just dropped her bar towel, grabbed her phone from under the bar and came out from behind it, grabbing my hand as she yelled to the back, “Hey Jimmy! I gotta leave! Personal thing- cover for me?”

Just then, there was a bit of a commotion at the door. Grace turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what was there. I just clutched her hand even tighter and yanked her towards the back; there was an emergency exit near the bathrooms from what I remembered of that one really bad 'birthday’. Yeah, that was a bad one. But we ran.

Good thing I’m not super tall, wouldn’t want to draw attention, I thought to myself sarcastically. Goddamn heels. Why do I even wear these?

Sounds of glass breaking and shouting reached us as we plowed through the emergency exit into the alleyway. Don’t worry about that now, just keep moving.

“This way!” I pulled her to the front of the alley.

“Holy shit, that’s your bike?” She sounded genuinely impressed. Finally, I wasn’t the only one who had that reaction at seeing it. 

“Oh yeah, she’s a sweet ride, and perfect for this situation. Or any situation, really. Jump on.”

I probably should have shut the door behind us, but hey, it was a day for me missing obvious things. The noise coming from the bar was getting louder.

“I’ve never done this before!” Grace exclaimed excitedly in my ear as I kicked my beast to life.

We roared out into the street, my white and gold Valentino’s left sparkling on the pavement where I kicked them. Fuckin’ useless, beautiful shoes. Sigh, they weren’t cheap. Oh well, they’re just shoes.

“Where are we going!?” Grace yelled over the rush of wind whipping our hair like tiny flails of purgatory.

“Not sure yet! But we’re going to find out!”

“I don't even know your name!”

My heart sank a bit.

“Don't worry! Neither do I! ”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The bar exploded behind us as it faded into the night thanks to the fabulous Ducati between our legs. Oh and that wasn’t metaphorical- I glanced in the mirror at the sound; it literally exploded. Ball of fire and all. I guess that’s to be expected, what with all the alcohol and what I’d suspected for a while was going on in the basement. Way too many flammable liquids in one place. But that didn't really matter now. All that mattered was getting away from what caused the explosion as fast as we possibly could. 

“What the hell was that!?” Grace yelled in my ear. Again. I’m going to have to get some headsets or something if this is going to be a habit. Well, the riding together part, not the fleeing for our lives part anyway. 

“I’ll explain as soon as we can talk, promise! For now, just hold on! And don't look behind us!" 

“As if I’m gonna let go now!”

That glance in the rear view told me as much as I needed to know, which was more than I wanted, but enough to have an idea of what we were running from. I mean, I figured that’s what it was, but I’m still tired of being right, even after all this time. You’d think I'd be used to it by now. 

That pale blue and red glow was enough. Hell, the noise it made had been enough for me to know what it was. And trust me, I was not overreacting by running first. I’d seen that color a few too many times in my life to think that there was anything else to be done except run. Once was more than enough for anyone. Who am I kidding? Most people don't get a chance to see it more than once. Guess I’m just lucky. Or the opposite. Pretty sure I’m the latter actually. 

Grace was shivering on my back as we sped away. She’d gone quiet, her mood matching the night around us, the neon signs and street lights reflecting their multi-colored halos in the rain-slicked streets. Fog was starting to rise from the pavement, adding to the soft glow the streets were taking on. Thin, wispy strands curling around street lights and bus stops, blasted into nothing as the bike tore through them, the roar of the exhaust shattering the relative quiet of the late night calm. 

Well, it should have been quiet anyway. The explosion of the bar kind of changed that. Then came the sound. 

It mixed with the growing whine from the crotch rocket under us, which seemed like a fitting counterpoint to the cacophony of something that sounded like if you’d thrown a hundred maltese dogs into a tornado and then blasted it over a crappy school intercom. I hated that sound. Almost as much as the dogs it reminded me of. 

“Aw shit, it saw us.” Time to see if the tires on this baby gripped as well as the kid at the shop claimed they did. 

Well, at least there wasn’t too much traffic. Still, even though there weren’t many trucks and accountant-driven sedans to weave in and out of, there were still enough of them that it took a hell of a lot more concentration than my alcohol soaked brain was ready to deal with. Definitely hadn’t planned on being the next Lewis Hamilton after a night at the bar, that’s for damn sure. 

“What the fuu….?” Grace’s expletive trailed off in the whipping wind as I kept us weaving in and out and through, gunning the shit out of my bike whenever there was an opening big enough to do so without turning us into extremely messy, if fashionable, pancakes.

“Try not to worry about it! OK I mean, yeah, worry, but not like understand worry!”

“How the hell do you not worry about...that!?”

I took a good look back for the first time as we whipped around a corner, using the rain-slick street to slide without losing any speed. My heart sank. At least it wasn’t in my throat choking me anymore. Sarcastic positivity in the face of death? Yeah that’s my jam. Even if I do keep it to myself. Most of the time anyway.

The damn thing was getting closer. Faster than I thought it could. Damn, tonight just wasn’t my night for noticing things, now was it?

That second of splitting my attention nearly sent us flying and a tired busboy standing at the corner bus stop to the hospital, but we only just missed him, with barely enough room to avoid slamming into the back end of something that should have been parked at a kids soccer game, not getting on the expressway at this time of night. 

Slipping into an alley entrance, Grace’s nails dug through the flimsy material I was wrapped in, making me yelp in surprise. 

“Sorry,” she muttered.

I was about to tell her it was cool, considering the circumstances, and given that I wasn’t sure if it made me jump because it hurt, or her hands were cold, or because of where they’d slid down to, when we blew out the other side of the alley, causing a literal postcard explosion from the stand I clipped as we bounced out on to the main road again, just in time to swerve hard to avoid becoming Penske poster-girls for a single truck. 

"Sweet Jesus fuck! What the hell IS that?"

Goddammit, didn’t I tell her not to look back? I wasn’t going to tell her how the beast chasing us had seen us dart down the alley, and since it couldn't fit through the traffic as neatly as we could, silently charge down the side of the building, slamming into the same shop front that had so recently lost it's postcard stand as it tried to take the same corner, still snuffling the ground and air to track us. I managed to gain us a few precious seconds of lead as it disentangled itself from the fruit cart, re-launching itself down the alley, bicycle wheel still caught in it's whiskers that streamed and whipped behind it.

“It’s running fucking sideways on the buildings!”

Aw shit. She can see it. I was afraid of that.

And that was all the distraction it needed too. 

With a last spring off the corner of an empty flower shop, the beast took a massive swipe at us. Come on, come on, make the corner! It's thick talons cut a blazing arc through the rain as it howled. One of its claws caught the rear end of the bike, knocking it heavily to the side, and nearly throwing Grace off. Good thing she’s got a death grip on my hips right now. Oh boy don’t think of that, too distracting right now, that’s how you get killed!

Grace screamed again as the bike was whipped around violently from behind, and Grace she was confronted with a vision not even her wildest nightmares could have come up with. At least, I hope she doesn’t have nightmares like this anymore. 

The beast’s jaws opened wide to crush us like a nutcracker on adderall, glowing drool whipping around in thick, viscous strands from teeth bigger than my hand, while she seemed mesmerized by the halo of tentacle-like whiskers that seemed to float in slow motion, despite how fast everything was happening. The beast looked at me, it’s eyes burning red meeting mine as I tried to maintain my grip on the bike that was rapidly being torn from my hands. I was holding on to that tank with my knees in a way that would have made the Russian Women’s weightlifting team proud. I could hear the scream that tried to jump from Grace’s mouth only for it to turn into a slow rush of soundless breath as she slammed into my back from the force of me yanking that bike around as hard as I could possibly manage. 

Ground. Street. Tires on. People off. Stay upright. Don’t let go. Run.

The bellow from the beast behind us meant nothing to me now. I was numb, my world narrowing to the few feet in front of me, and Grace behind me. Swerve. Dodge. Car. Bike. Red light. Faster. Green. Faster. Faster. Get away. Car. Car. Bus. Turn. 

Suddenly the cars all dropped away. The turnpike. Oh thank God. I opened up the throttle all the way and finally realized I should probably start breathing again. 

Grace was trying to yell something, probably wanting an explanation. I mean I can’t blame her, but I said I’d explain! Did it look like now was suddenly the time for it? Then again, maybe it was important. 

I turned my head a bit to try to talk to her, but I paused with my mouth still open. The beast was gone.Like gone gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Not even like really far away gone, just not there any more. I squinted. Yeah, that was a little too easy.

“Did we get away?” 

I was actually about to answer her, when a glowing blue shape cashed into us from the side, just as I was starting to finally let my legs relax a little. Everything seemed to slow down. I know, everyone says that, but it’s true! I don’t know, maybe it was the whiskey sours, but as soon as we got hit, the world turned in to super slow-mo as the bike was ripped from my hands, and I felt Grace be pulled away from me. 

This thing tossed us like a couple of rag dolls thrown from a child’s stroller being kicked by a football player. Or at least it started to go that way. Somehow, as the bike ground across the pavement, with just my left hand managing to keep any kind of hold on the bike, I managed to swing myself around it like a gymnast on a gold-medal winning vault-horse routine, snagged Grace’s bar apron with my free hand, and with sheer desperate strength, yank all three back together, right as the beast’s slavering maw snapped shut on empty air where Grace’s head had been just milliseconds before. Through pure accident of positioning, my toes raked across it’s eyes as my leg swung around and I slammed them back down on the pegs, jammed the throttle all the way open, even as Grace somehow managed to complete the circle I’d pulled her in, ending by straddling my hips, arms and hair akimbo while we slid sideways, fortunately tires first. 

Grace’s eyes were wider than a kid who opened their eyes to Disneyland on a Christmas morning as she slammed into me, and I used our momentum to get the bike fully upright, only barely escaping a second snap from the beast as it lunged again, trying to tear us apart. 

That near miss, and the sigh of relief I almost let happen, didn’t get a chance to last long. 

Her damn hair was in my face, which at any other time, wouldn’t have been a problem, really, but just at that second, was incredibly, blindingly, distracting. And it might have saved our lives. 

Something hot burned into my shoulder and face as the sound of crashing metal and people yelling slammed into me. Hm, spicy.

“Shit! Watch out! Sorry!” Grace called to the one lady who wasn’t running for the hills as we smashed through her food cart. Can you get third-degree barbecue sauce burns? Food trays, sauces and meat all went flying as we dervished our way right through the middle of her street-side restaurant, sweet and spicy and sticky all at once, all over the ground, and all over me and Grace as well. I couldn’t think of anything more than just keeping everything together and moving forward. Run. The only thought occupying my mind. Just run.

“Hey.”

The softness of her voice is what brought me back to the girl squished up against me and out of the rabbit-instinct flight mode I was in. 

I don’t know why but for some reason, my brain decided that was the perfect moment to notice that I’d never realized how captivating the color brown could be. Grace’s eyes were less than inches from mine, and I froze for a second. Again. 

“I think it’s stopped.”

I glanced back. The beast had been right on top of us when we hit the food cart, but now it was standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, sniffing around for all the world like the biggest, dumbest, glowiest dog you’ve ever seen. OK, a dog that could tear a truck apart like a box of tissues, but still. 

“What the hell is it doing?” 

“Maybe it’s hungry.”

I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I’d never seen one of these things just...stop like that. It didn't make sense. 

No time to think of that right now, just enough time to dart down another alley, blocking the beast from view as it sat down to lap up all the spilled barbecued beef at its feet. 

As we weaved and darted through alleys and parking lots, squeezing through sidewalks and darting across small streets, I started to recognize where we were now, and had the barest inkling of a plan besides ‘get away without dying.’

“Whatever that thing is, I think it likes barbecue.”   

Grace’s whispered comment snapped me back to what was right in front of me, the whole reason I was in this kind of mess again in the first place. . 

“Hunh?”

“I think it stopped to eat at the barbecue stand we knocked over. It’s not chasing us anymore- look.”

I tried to check the mirror again, only to find they’d both been ripped off by now, so switched to glancing over my shoulder quickly, and saw no ominous glow behind us, other than the few street lamps on the small boulevard we were going down. 

“Barbecue?” I was still pretty confused. Probably drunk too. But definitely confused. 

Grace’s laugh was carried away on the night like fireworks swept away in a light breeze. “Well, I dunno what the hell that thing was, but I haven’t met anyone yet who wouldn’t drop everything for good barbecue, honey.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Well it’s good to see I’m not the only one here who can make wildly ridiculous comments with horrible timing!”

“Funny the things you think about when you should be focusing on other stuff that’s a little more important, hunh? Like right now, all I can think about is a nice rack of ribs.” Grace grew quieter as her head sank back down on to my shoulder. “Where we headed, sugar?”

“Somewhere close. Safe. I think.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The old loft was just as dank and dirty and run down on the inside as it looked on the outside. Probably worse. No diamonds in the rough here, that’s for sure. Broken glass scattered on the beat up industrial floor scattered the glow of the streetlight through the mist that filled the space. Definitely not up to my usual standard, but hey, we couldn’t really complain too much.

Throwing an old, discarded, and probably moldy, but definitely more disgusting than I wanted to ever touch again, mover’s blanket over the plate window helped to at least hide a little bit of how gross this place looked. Plus, privacy. A quick scan around and I found a pile of old tarps and a couple skeezy mattresses that I definitely wasn’t going to think about where they’d been or who’d done what on them for how long. It’d have to do. A dirty mattress was a small price to pay for still being alive.

"It's not the Four Seasons, but it'll do for now. It's kinda cold- I don't think the building even has heat, but I think we can keep warm enough to make it through the rest of tonight at least."

Grace flopped down heavily on the mattress, exhausted, shoulders slumped, staring vacantly at the floor.

"That was...was that...I don't even know where to start. My brain's been turned to oatmeal. What…? What happened? What in the name of all fucks just happened?"

“Yeah, there’s kind of a lot to unpack here isn’t there?” I just crumpled down into one of the old blankets like a sock puppet being dropped into its nest. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Ya think? Like one minute, I’m trying to mind my business, working my shift at the bar, wondering whether I’m going to have to give another statement to the cops after another bar fight breaks out, and the next I’m getting tossed around like a hot sweet-potato, almost get eaten by a glowing, walking catfish that got beaten a little too hard with the ugly stick, get covered in barbecue sauce, do-si-doed by a goddamn motorcycle ninja, only to wind up in some place that looks like it was lifted straight out of Zillow for Crackheads!”

A snort of wry, tired amusement escaped me. “Yeah, I guess it really does look that bad here. I mean, I’m surprised this place is even still standing after all this time, but you’re right, it definitely looks a bit sketchy.”

“Way to avoid the point, hun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not sure why, but she kept making me nervous, and the way she was sort of frowning while pinning me down with those sparkling coffee eyes definitely wasn’t helping. Probably just wasn’t used to people making eye contact. Which was the whole reason I was in this mess to begin with. Another sigh. 

“Alright. I’ll explain as much as I can. You deserve that much.”

Grace flopped down on the edge of the mattress, chin propped in her hands for all the world like a kid during goddamn story time. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when she’s doing things like that? Look away! Only way to save myself for now. 

“OK, here goes. So the thing you saw? Well, it’s a…” I scowled. “It’s a...sunuvabitch, I don’t really know what it’s called. Alright, further back then. The basics. Got it.

“Supernatural things exist. Like you believe that humans are the highest species on this planet and that you’re all alone in the universe, and no one can quite agree on whether there was anything before or after this life or what happens when you die, right? Well, a lot of what most people believe to be myth or religious superstition is actually, um, real.”

So she hasn’t tried to run away just yet. That’s a good sign, right?

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, from the bits I can remember, what you would call ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ are real places- they’re just not really visible to mortals. Most of the time. ‘Angels’ and ‘demons’ are real things too, but they’re a little bit different than most people tend to think of them from what I’ve seen. 

“I don’t know how many there are, but there’s angels and demons walking around, living just like you and me, every day. The thing is, that mortals like you can’t see them. And that’s where the problem is.”

“Like me?” It wasn’t really a question. Her tone made that clear enough.

“Oh boy. OK, here’s the big one- because with the heaven and hell stuff, most people can be like ‘meh, it’s all superstitious nonsense anyway’ and brush it off. This? Not so much. 

“I’m not human. Or mortal. I can see angels and demons walking around plain as day, just like the ones I’ve met can see me. Mortals...see something else.”

“Like the creep at the bar earlier? Did he see...something else? In you?”

“Yeah. On the outside, at first glance, I look like any other girl. But look closer? Well, you saw what happened. People just aren’t ready to see my real nature.”

“But that didn’t happen to me.” Now Grace was looking a little bit confused- but the kind of confused you get when a teacher is explaining something that you know should make sense, even if you were having a hard time getting it. 

“No, it didn’t. And it took me way too long to pick up on that. I should’ve realized right away. If I had, maybe I could have gotten you out of there faster and that whole ‘sweet potato’ thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“So what should I be seeing? When I look into your eyes I mean?”

“Probably something along the lines of falling through an eternally expanding universe, a sense that you’re tinier than a piece of sand in the scope of the cosmos, that sort of thing. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from a couple of the ones who were able to be slightly coherent afterwards. There haven’t been many of those over the years.”

“Wow. I definitely don’t see that.”

“And that’s the problem, really. I’ve never heard of something like that happening before. I don’t know what it means, or why you can, or anything! All I know is that something is very, very different, and very, very wrong, otherwise that thing wouldn’t have been after us. And right now, I don’t know if what’s wrong is you, or me, or both of us. But we need to find out if we’re going to not be looking over our shoulders for...what did you call it again?”

Grace laughed. A genuine laugh, not weighed down by worry or terror. “A glowing, walking catfish?”

“Ha ha, yeah, that got beaten too many times with the ugly stick!”

Grace sat up suddenly, nodding sharply to herself. “Alright, well, you’re either batshit crazy, or I owe my gran an apology.” Grace was still half chuckling, but looking very intent. 

“Your gran?”

“Yeah, she was super religious, always prayin’, talkin’ and singin’ about god. She must’ve gone to church three times a week! Boy, would she have loved to hear all this.”

“I’ll bet!”

“So, I just wanna make sure I’ve got all the stuff you said- angels are real, and something’s wrong with the fact that I can see your real eyes, and not like, the fires of the Big Bang or something, but you don’t know why that’s a problem or what caused it.. Right?”

“I’d say that about covers it for now, yeah.”

“Alright, I can live with that much for now. I’m clean tuckered out, and you look like you’re about to just fall over any second now. Whaddya say we call it a night?”

“Yeah.” I really could barely keep my eyes open at this point. I guess pretending my motorbike was a juggling pin kind of took it out of me.

Grace popped up, suddenly all business.

“So doesn’t look like this place has a big ol’ tub to dump you in, so we’ll have to settle for a couple of wet wipes. Here, help me get these blankets on to the mattress here. They’re gross, but it’s better than freezing to death.”

“You’re the boss!” Those wet wipes were a pocket-sized blessing, wrapped in foil paper. I’m more of a Chanel and gunpowder type, not so big on the earthy, barbecue scents.

I was starting to stumble a bit as we plopped the discarded blankets down as well as we could in the relative darkness of the loft.

“Probably better to stay dressed with how dirty these blankets are.” Grace frowned as she watched me struggle to pick up one of the heavier blankets a couple of times.

That didn’t even register until much later.

“OK, you, lay down. No more for you tonight. Sleep.”

I couldn’t even argue with her. I just curled up in a ball on the bed, barely aware of Grace pulling a couple of the blankets over me, but I thought I could just make out her arm resting on mine as we both drifted off into the heavy, dreamless sleep that comes when you’ve been pushed to your limits. At least, I kind of hope it was. 

=============================================

Story tag list

@random-with-garlic @a-dinosaurs-left-phgkneecap @flower-in-the-ashes @nixabee @luvnaught @pens-swords-stuff @alice-and-cheshire-cat @humans-are-seriously-weird @flying-f1shsticks @Neil-gaiman @glumshoe @lykanyouko @kaylewiswrites @just-a-bit-paranoid @thatsmybluefondue @Alice-and-Cheshire-cat @violet-galaxies @biggest-gaidiest-patronuses @midnight-spectrum-again @slytherinlovespuff @friendofcybermen @hemi528i @mirbisduschoen @khelladon @walkin-in-the-cosmos

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list, just shoot me a message and your wish is my command. 

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 11

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 4,380 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Also on ff.net and AO3.

There was a time when I was alone Nowhere to go and no place to call home My only friend was the man in the moon And even sometimes he would go away, too

-Ruth B, "Lost Boy"

————————–

Before.

“Batman, wait!”

Robin was too late; Batman had already charged ahead by ruthlessly breaking down the door to the house with the sole of his boot.  A low-key villain calling himself “Cluemaster” (whom Robin had incidentally never heard much of until now compared to the likes of Riddler or Joker, having supposedly gone “straight” for a couple years – at least according to Batman) had led them on a lengthy chase, and they ended up pursuing him all the way out to a small neighborhood in the suburbs.  As they infiltrated the dwelling, Robin hastily checked around to make sure no homeowners were present who could be caught in the fray – or worse, taken as collateral.

Fortunately the room was empty, aside from their glaringly orange-clad target in the middle of it, reaching for one of the plasti-glass pellets attached to the front of his costume. Batman had already anticipated the move though and launched forward faster than the other, lurching a blurred glove into his opponent’s throat, which caused him to drop the canister as his body was slammed hard against the wall.

“You’re under arrest for multiple counts of grand larceny, Cluemaster.  Or should I say, Arthur Brown?”

With his other hand, he grasped at the bandana covering the lower half of the man’s face, which had already come loose from the force of impact.  He jerked the rest of the kerchief off to expose a snarl under the guise, the owner evidently infuriated by the idea his identity had been so easily discovered.

“Now, where’s the money you stole?”

Arthur sneered.

“Why don’t I give you a clue to its whereabouts, and you can figure it out yourself, since you’re so smart?”

Batman growled as he grabbed his foe’s collar, lifting high into the air, letting free-dangling feet flail frantically.

“I don’t have time for these games.  Either you tell me voluntarily, or I’ll make you confess.”

Robin was getting anxious by the aggressiveness in Batman’s tone; making threats of violence wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but he’d been out of sorts all night, acting excessively and extremely hostile, leaping into enemy territory with heedless disregard to danger – to himself or those around him.  Sans his usual sangfroid.  He was starting to sound like that time Scarecrow dosed him with a gas that took away all his fear, resulting in Batman almost taking a henchman’s life.  It had taken all of Robin’s strength to haul him back up after Batman cut the line…

The current captive seemed to be getting panicky too, as he quickly changed his attitude, appealing to sympathy instead.

“Listen, I’ve got a wife and kid.  They’re asleep upstairs.  I just needed the cash to help support them.  We’re in a bit of a financial jam, y’see…”

Robin’s conscience wavered, recalling the time they had to prevent a penniless man from holding up a drugstore in order to obtain medicine for his daughter, who was simply sick with a high fever.  Of course this was theft on a much greater scale, but he still couldn’t help having some lingering empathy – especially based on his own past experiences dealing with poverty.

“That's one of the hardest things about this job, Robin.  Sometimes we have to stop someone from doing the wrong thing for the right reason.”

“…Daddy?”

As if on cue, all three revolved towards the top of the staircase, where a young girl with golden curls – probably about his age – was standing in bare feet and violet nightgown, beholding the scene before her with baffled eyes, big and blue and broad.

“Darling, why don’t you go back to bed?”  Arthur choked out, his own eyes bulging as cheeks turned indigo as well.  “You’re just having a bad dream.”

“Arthur?  What’s going on here?  I heard a loud noise…”

Robin swallowed as a woman emerged from behind the adolescent, gripping the girl’s shoulders as she drew her daughter in protectively, eyeing the pair of home intruders with fear and suspicion.  The situation was steadily turning from bad to worse.  He hurriedly bounded up the steps, trying to block at least the shorter one’s view with his arms and cape, acting as both shield and shroud.

“Both of you should stay back…”

Batman’s prey put on a pleading, pathetic look.

“Now now, you wouldn’t hit a guy in front of his family, would you?”

While his quivering lips pouted, his pupils seemed to flash triumphant.  Robin felt a sick chill in his stomach.  Had he set this up just to take advantage of innocent citizens – and his provider status for them – as an alibi?

Whatever the reason, Batman wasn’t falling for it.  While he slowly lowered his fist, he continued to glower viciously at his victim.

“I’m still taking you in. The police will be here soon, they can interrogate you.  And if you don’t admit to them, well…”  He leaned in close, crescent slivers narrowing.  Intimidating.  “They’ll just have to call me.”

With that, he twisted his prisoner around, pressing head harshly against partition again as he slapped a pair of handcuffs on.  Robin sensed the two frightened females peering over his shoulders, crying and clinging to each other as sirens started to wail outside, and the junior one almost looked like she was about to join them.   He thought about reaching out to try and comfort her, but a cold bark from Batman halted him.

“Let’s go, Robin.”

“But Batman-”

“Now.”

He was already halfway out the side exit when he said this, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Robin bit his lip and vaulted over the railing to race after him, cloak whisking out of sight just as officers began filing in.  As they headed back towards the Batmobile parked in the shadows close by, Robin hissed his irritation.

“You know, there were a million other ways you could’ve handled that.”

“I did what was necessary in order to get him to talk.  The police should have an easier time of it now.”

“Yeah, but did you have to do it while his wife and child were watching?  This is exactly the reason Nightwing left you, remember?”

Batman blatantly ignored the bold declaration of disapproval as his pager began to beep: a message from Batgirl, requesting backup.

“Armed robbery in progress, escalated to a hostage situation over on the north side.  We’re needed.”

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

Batman brusquely cut him off.

“We’ll discuss this later, at home.  Now get in the car.”

Robin grumbled, but grudgingly obeyed.

They never did discuss it though.  Concurring collectively, both Batman and Batgirl determined there were too many hired guns in the building, deeming it far too “risky” to bring Robin – the “kid” – along. …Plus it was a school night.  So Batman swung swiftly by the manor on the way, dropping Robin – Tim – off unceremoniously at the front gate despite loud and adamant protests, where Alfred was waiting to pick him up and march him straight on inside to get changed and ready for dinner.

“And ‘don’t forget to do your homework’,’” Tim mimicked Bruce’s reprimanding voice with a querulous whine as the vehicle sped off, leaving him in the dust.  “God, he still treats me like such a child.”

The butler patted his charge’s back consolingly, ushering within.

“Come along, Master Timothy. There are cookies and cocoa waiting for you inside – after you finish with your studies, that is.  We wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite, now would we?”

Tim shot an exasperated expression at the patronizing statement, but acquiesced.  Upon entering, he immediately tore off the mask and tossed it on the table in frustrated anger, flopping sullenly onto the couch without even bothering to remove the rest of the suit.  Alfred tutted, but made no remark as he disappeared into the kitchen, promising food would be served shortly.

As Tim gazed at the fireplace, he stewed over Batman’s earlier reckless – not to mention downright rude – behavior.  How could he even be so cruel and insensitive?  It wasn’t just the bossing around that bugged him, but he was genuinely rather troubled by Bruce’s mental state.  …Truth be told, he had a guess as to the cause for callousness.  He’d noticed a common trend in increasing indiscretion (and intractability) after their latest visit to Arkham, when they stopped by Two-Face’s cell following another escape – and subsequent suicide attempt.  Ever since he’d developed a third personality who judged himself guilty and sentenced to death for his sins, his condition had been gradually worsening.  It was to the point he – and his coin – had to be kept under constant watch and isolated lockdown.

Tim was never really sure how to feel about Two-Face (in the same way his chest was always confused and ached a little whenever he faced Clayface).  The man murdered his father; Tim supposed he should hate him for that. In addition, he’d even once mercilessly electrocuted Nightwing with a wire taser, forcing the senior superhero’s heart to completely stop.  …Had he not promptly administered CPR and literally brought his brother back from the brink of death, he might have lost another family member that day.

But, according to Dick, Bruce and Harvey had been good friends once – which explained why his guardian always bore a grieved semblance whenever they went up against Dent.  …Tim tried to imagine what it must be like, to watch one’s once close companion fight a losing battle against himself.  Clearly it was taking a capricious toll on the old man’s emotional and psychological well-being as well, making him far more mercurial and volatile – prone to violent vagaries.

Yet, even Tim recognized that didn’t excuse him taking it out on others, especially when it interfered with their work.  (Frankly that didn’t seem to be the only thing distracting recently either, given Batman and Batgirl had been ditching him more and more often as of late, citing his “immaturity” as pretense.  …But he didn’t really want to think about that right now.)  He was concerned about that girl as well.  Screw Batman, he should’ve stayed to try and talk to her.  At least give her some reassurance after witnessing such a harrowing event.

Making up his mind, he snatched his domino from the counter and was out the door (cautiously evading the security cameras he knew were watching overhead) just as Alfred came to call him for dinner.  Upon finding the parlor empty, and after exhausting all other options of where the lad might have gone to within the mansion (including underground area), the caretaker finally murmured in alarm.

“…Oh dear.”

…

It took Robin longer to get back by grapple alone, but eventually he made it to his destination. Descending on the rooftop from a nearby tree, he tiptoed towards a single annexed dormer window which jutted prominently from the tiles.  Testing the lucarne’s latch, it luckily wasn’t locked and slid open with relative ease. Silently slipping in, he was greeted almost instantly by an unpredicted punch to the face.

As he was thrown flat onto the bed, survival instinct triggered to roll over and try to fight back, but his own fists arrested when he saw his assailant was the same girl from before, glaring at him with mistrust.

“Who are you?!  Some kind of creepazoid stalker?”

“Whoa, whoa!  It’s me, Robin.  You know, from before?”

She stared at him, realization dawning.

“Oh.  …Sorry.  I didn’t know it was you.”

The way she said it, she still didn’t seem very impressed.

“…I’d hate to be someone you were expecting,” Robin muttered, rubbing at his sore jaw.

She folded her arms firmly.

“So?  What the heck are you doing here?  Again?”

“I- I just wanted to check and see if you were okay, after… all that.”

An eyebrow raised.

“And you thought coming in through the window was the best way to go about it?”

“…In hindsight that might not have been the best plan,” he acknowledged, repentant.  “Sorry.  Being with him tends to rub off on you.  I apologize if he scared you earlier.  He’s really not a bad guy.”

She exhaled, letting her limbs down.

“No, my father is, right? …It’s okay.  I know who and what my dad is.  He deserves to go to jail.”

Robin cocked in confusion at this unanticipated acceptance.

“But… He’s still your dad.”

“Yeah, and I hate him.” Her knuckles clenched, tightening. “He just wanted to use Mom and me to get away with his crimes.  We’re basically just tools, a means to an end for him.  He’s a total class-A jerk.”

Robin blinked, unsure how to respond to that.  He certainly hadn’t been prepared for this outcome.  An uncomfortable hush filled the chamber, which he idly noted details of as he glanced around nervously.  He’d never actually been in a girl’s room before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect.  He supposed the piles of stuffed animals and boy band posters were probably typical, though he was surprised to see some large prints of Superman lining the walls, and a bulletin board covered with newspaper clippings of Batman and Robin – mostly his predecessor – busting the Cluemaster’s previous petty heists.  She apparently wasn’t kidding when she said she had it in for her father.  (…The image felt almost eerily familiar, reminding of the days when he kept a similar chronicle in a corner of his own pops’ apartment, much to the old man’s displeasure.)

“…You’ve got weird taste for a girl,” he mused aloud.

“And you’ve got weird fashion sense for a boy,” she retorted, nose wrinkling.

“Hey, I didn’t design the suit,” he huffed defensively.

“And who did?  Your mom?”

Robin winced a bit, but bit his tongue.  “…Would you believe me if I said Batman?”

She sniffed.  “I mean seriously, what’s with that getup anyway? It’s so bright, it makes you look like a clown.”

Fed up with her criticism, he started to skulk back towards the outlet again.

“Look, I didn’t come here just to be insulted.”

A hand reached out to clasp his wrist, and he rotated to see her regarding him sincerely.

“Sorry, I was just joking. …You don’t have to leave.”

He gulped, blushing a little at the light touch.  The last time a girl held his hand like this for so long, she’d followed with a…

“Um, okay.”  He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily, growing tense as she inclined forward and grinned – before passing him by to hop onto the sill instead, sticking out her tongue at him.

“Ladies first.”

He whirled around in shock as she stepped out over the ledge.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?  That’s dangerous, get back here.”

“Relax, I do this all the time.  Besides, you jump around rooftops every night, don’t you?”

He impulsively climbed after her, keeping a careful eye on her footing, hovering close behind in case she fell.  But, true to her word, she did seem to have practiced this pattern many times before, effortlessly picking her way over the slates to the top, where she plopped down and petted the spot next to her.  Indicating invitation.  Tentatively, he took it and traced her wondering sightline to the stars above.

“…You know, I used to dream I’d see the Batman someday.  Drifting across the moon, dark against the night sky…”  She hugged her knees to her breast.  “This is the first time I’ve actually seen him in person.  For a second, I almost thought he was a monster.”

Robin remained quiet as she continued.

“But, my dad’s the real monster.  I know he’s hurt a lot of people – myself and Mom included.  He doesn’t care about us at all.”

“How come she doesn’t just divorce him?”

“She can’t afford a lawyer to kick him out.  He still owns the mortgage on the house.”

She smiled bitterly, drawing circles on the shingles.

“As a kid, I used to think about running away.  Getting on a plane and going somewhere far, far away from here.  Someplace exotic, where no one knows who I am or where I come from – like Africa.  …But, I could never do that to my Mom.  She’d be lonely if I left.  Even though she has some… ‘difficulties’, I still love her.”

She looked at Robin, who was still listening attentively.  Patiently.

“Sorry,” she mumbled in a slightly sheepish manner.  “I’m just making you sit through my random rambling.  I don’t usually get a chance to talk to anyone about this, let alone someone my age.  Having a lame, insane supercriminal for a dad isn’t exactly something I can tell all my friends at school.”

“It’s all right.  I wish there was more I could do to help…”

He replied, feeling as utterly useless – hopeless – as when he came across a bunch of homeless youths in his hunt for Annie after they’d gotten separated, the ragtag group of street rats sleeping together on a filthy mattress in an abandoned shelter; huddled under each other for warmth, sharing but one thin, dingy blanket between them.  (…The kind of neglected kid he could’ve easily ended up as had he not happened to be so lucky, to be “chosen” – caught before he slipped through the cracks into faded obscurity and was overlooked – forgotten – by society.)  There were some things punches and kicks just couldn’t fix.

“You’ve already done more than enough, thanks.  I’m grateful to you both for putting a stop to him.  …Even if it’s probably only temporary.”

“There has to be something that can be done though.”

“Really, you don’t have to go out of your way or anything.  Besides, why do you care so much anyway?”

He shrugged, surveying the distance.  “Maybe it’s because you kinda remind me of someone.”

She scanned his wistful countenance, scrutinizing closely.

“…Was she cute?”

“What- no.  I mean yes.  I mean, uh-” Robin stammered, flushing red as he was abruptly taken aback by the unexpected inquiry.  She giggled in snorting amusement at his oh-so-obvious reaction.

“Relax, Boy Wonder, I’m just teasing you.”

He coughed, regaining composure.

“To be honest, that’s not the only reason.  My dad wasn’t much of a prize either.  …Although he can’t compete with yours.”

“Ehhh?”  She gaped at him in astonished awe.  “But he’s so cool!”

“Huh?”  He puzzled for a beat, then it clicked what she was talking about.  “Oh, you think that Batman’s- no, he’s not my real dad.  I’m not even sure I would even go so far as to call him much of a ‘father figure’ actually.  He’s more like a… mentor?”

It was her turn to listen as he ruminated, reflecting.

“He saved me though. Took me in when I had no place else to go.  Gave me a second chance.  I’ve… done things I’m not exactly proud of either.  If he hadn’t found me, I’d likely be dead or in jail myself right now.”

Sensing a buzzing interruption from his waist – a warning summons from the butler no doubt – he consulted the timestamp in the corner of the display, and cringed upon calculating how much interval had elapsed in his absence.

“…Speaking of which, I should probably get back soon.  Batman’s gonna kill me once he finds out I’m gone without letting anyone know.”

Her forehead creased with contriteness.

“You didn’t have to go that far for me…”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. It’s the least I could do.”

She looked reluctant to end the conversation though.  He wondered if he was the first person she’d ever been this open to about her feelings. …After some thought, he fished around in a pocket and pulled out another spare backup communicator.

“Listen, don’t tell anyone about this; Batman doesn’t like me lending out tech.  But if you ever need anything, you can get in touch with me on this.  I’ll come as soon as I can.  …Only if it’s an emergency though.  He’ll really give me an earful if he finds out I’m using our gadgets for personal stuff.”

She looked down at the device in trepidation.

“Is it really okay for me to have this?”

“Yeah.  It’s no problem, don’t worry.  I know how to keep a secret.  And I’ll definitely stop by again sometime, so we can hang out some more if you want.  Whaddya say?”

Her eyes lit up, and- without warning, she flung her arms around him in an appreciative hug (that very nearly knocked him off balance).

“…Thanks, Robin.”

His hue embarrassed again, but he gently reciprocated the gesture.

“Hey, what are heroes for?”

After an awkwardly long minute, she propelled back from the embrace with a self-conscious laugh.  Once the rapid beating in both their ribs had calmed down (and she’d surreptitiously wiped some tears from her face), she afforded him a somewhat odd look.

“…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just… Calling you ‘Robin’ feels kinda weird.  It’s like a girl’s name.”

“Hey, it can be a boy’s name too,” he sulked in indignation.  “Besides, at least it is a name.”

She shook her head, concentrating intently on him as she contemplated.  After a bit, she brightened with sudden brilliance.

“I know!  I’ll call you ‘Peter’ – since you came in through the window.  …And ‘cuz of the tights.”

Robin blanched as she pointed playfully at his leggings.

“…I think I’d rather be called ‘Robin’.”

“Nope,” she cheerfully announced.  “You’re ‘Peter’ to me now.”

Robin sighed, but didn’t object further to the nickname.  It wasn’t like he could tell her his real title.

“Fine.  ‘Peter’ it is then.  …Does that make you ‘Wendy’?”

She smirked with a wink.

“If you want me to be.”

He blinked, clearing his throat as he stood up, almost stumbling over his heels as he backed up in haste.

“Right.  Well then.  Wendy.  …Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.  See ya.”

“…’Kay, bye.”

“’Kay, bye.”

He waved as he fired his grapple into the branches and swung away, and she merrily returned the motion. Elated, Robin’s spirit soared over heightening city structures back to the estate, performing as many flips and tricks as he could on the way.  …Although come to think of it, he had failed to ask for her actual name.  …Oh, well. There was always next time.

Rather than directly approach the porch or cave entrance, Robin thought about endeavoring to sneak back in through the second-story opening to his own bedroom, so he could pretend he’d been there all along.  …Unfortunately, as soon as he’d made it inside and detached his façade, he bumped straight into a severely stern-looking Bruce towering over him.

“Where the devil have you been?  We’ve been trying to contact you for the past hour.  Barbara’s out there searching all over for you right now.  Meanwhile I’ve had to help Alfred double-check every secret room and passage in the manor.  Do you know how long that takes?”

Tim merely shrugged.

“I went out for a stroll. Is that a crime?”

“In this house, it is. Do I need to start putting a tracer on your utility belt again?”

“No, sir,” he squeaked meekly.

Bruce heaved a grunt.

“Just hurry up and go get changed, young man.  Your dinner’s cold already.  Alfred made soup.  Make sure you apologize to him too, he’s been worried sick.”

“Yeah yeah, I hear ya, old man.”

“And did you finish your homework?”

Tim flinched.  He knew there was something else he’d forgotten.

“You had better get to it if you want to come patrolling with us tomorrow night.”

“I will.”

Before he vanished into the privacy of his enormous closet (which, in his own private opinion, was way too overly spacious – though no one would certainly hear him complain), Tim paused, calling softly back over his shoulder.

“Bruce.”

“What?”

“Thanks… for caring.”

…

About a month later, a couple men dressed in black arrived at the Brown residence, carrying grim, serious auras and stiff briefcases containing various important-looking official documents.  An obstinate Stephanie insisted on sitting down alongside her mother on the sofa as they discreetly disclosed the news she never once conceived she’d get to hear like this:

Her dad was dead.

Apparently he’d cut a deal while in prison, and became a part of something clandestinely known by a select few outside those in power as a “Suicide Squad”.  He’d perished while on a covert mission for the government, and – according to these strange men’s confidential report – he’d died a “heroic sacrifice”.

Stephanie didn’t know how to react.  What to feel. …How she was supposed to feel.

As she sat in her room, trying to write in her diary but coming up blank, her observation shifted to the window still left ajar each evening, through which a mild breeze blew. Opening her desk drawer, she retrieved the hidden miniature handset from the far back, tucked neatly behind all sorts of stationery.  She had avoided using it up to now, afraid of coming off as an annoyance.  …But she hadn’t seen Robin at all since then.  No one had.  Based on what she’d gathered from growing gossip, he’d been fully MIA over the course of the past few weeks, and rumors were starting to spread.  It was like his existence had been entirely erased, simply evaporated off the surface of the earth.  …She was worried about him too.

She pushed the button, hands shaking in mounting apprehension as she elevated to her ear.

There was a long, low hum of crackling static, before someone (presumably) picked up at last.

“…”

“Hello?”

“…Who is this?  How did you get access to this comm line?”

“I’m… a friend of Pet- Robin’s.  Is… he there?”

An extensive gap stretched.

“There is no more Robin.”

The pronouncement was deep. Disturbing.  Definite.

“Do not contact here again.”

With a final click, the other end hung up.

She tried, repeatedly – desperately – to dial back – but the machine seemed to have been remotely disconnected.  Slumping forward in defeat as she let go the last potential link – lifeline – she buried her face in her sleeves, and burst into sobs.

At length, she dried her sniffles and rose, dragging her feet to the wide frame.  Casting one last look of longing out at the pitch gloom, she shut the pane.  …Shutting out pain, and all the brief memories associated with it.

…

She never saw Robin again.

————————–

He sprinkled me in pixie dust and told me to believe Believe in him and believe in me Together we will fly away in a cloud of green To your beautiful destiny As we soared above the town that never loved me I realized I finally had a family

[spongebobsins]

Everything Wrong With The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie

(Full disclosure: I actually did this before on DA a few years ago, so this is a spruced up version of that post. It’s been updated with my current standards and some new jokes but isn’t totally different. Still, hope you enjoy)

1.Viacom

2.There’s a whole opening scene with pirates, yet Patchy is nowhere to be seen

3.This guy thought it wouldn’t be a good idea to step out of the way of the door before the guy came out.

4.Because this is a SpongeBob movie, I can ignore a lot of stuff here, but there are like 50 pirates here, and only like 6 tickets.

5.These pirates are making a huge rowdy mess…and yet if I was there, it wold still be one my better theater expereinces.

6.Wait, the movie within the movie just starts with no title? There’s s no title in the credits, which is part of the movie within the movie, so what kind of movie has no title in it at all?

7.Also, the screening just starts with no trailers?

8.Why wasn’t the manager here to begin with, if the place was open.

9.They seriously called the cops about the cheese? Can’t someone else just…put cheese on it

9.“Weird sound in dream turns out be normal sound waking them up” cliché.

10.It being a dream forgives a few sins…but it’s still a dream cliche so..

11. Let’s talk about the Krusty Krab 2. How could have a hugely popular restaurant, function for this only with only ONE in existence?

12 Also, at no point do we see them hire extra employees for the other  KK, there’s just a new manager, but there’s like 2 employees in this place besides Mr Krabs. …How did a place like this ever function with only two employees, anyway?

13.Spongebob has underwear in this shot, but when his pants…open up, he’s nude.

14.Also, Butt joke.

15.SpongeBob’s teeth should not be in good shape if he only brushes his eyes.

16.Even for SpongeBob, barging in Squid’s shower is…creepy.

17.There’s nothing under this rock so where did Patrick’s pants come from? 18.All this excitement over a place that has never been mentioned before now.

19.Wait, KK 2 is next to the first one? That’s really stupid.

20.”Lord knows I’ve tried” Which lord though? Is relgion a thing under the sea?

21/know Plankton doesn’t always have common sense, but he seriously has never heard of the letter Z?! Or at least he hasn’t seen that file clearly there.

22. Plan Z seems to be Plan Porn, ew.

23.The Chum Bucket isn’t directly across the street like it should be.

24.How he does not hear his screams?

25.Also, the plankton smear vanishes in the next shot.

26.“I paid 9 dollars for this?” ‘I paid ten”. That’s racist.

27.I know SpongeBob is” immature” but Squidward is literately the worst worker ever, so why was he picked? At least SB is a good worker.

28.If you listen really closely, you near hear Mr  Krabs whispering jackass. That’s sinful because he said swearing is bad back in Sailor Mouth and got trouble with his Mom over it.

29.Another butt joke. 30.Wait, he doesn’t like people touching the crown yet he hired someone to clean it?

31.Even if this is meant to a different character than the God Neptune, why are we only just now knowing there’s a King of the sea, especially since he’s so close to a place the leads apparently go to a lot?

32.How the hell did no one notice Plankton taking the crown? Mindy is looking in the general direction of it, and while plankton is tiny, they should at least hear it moving or something.

33.There’s no guards outside to possible see the crown flying away.

34/Goofy Goober has a lollipop in this shot, but when that hand thing comes out, it’s gone

35.  There’s only one row of chairs in the nut bar here, but when SpongeBob starts to leave, there’s another corner where more chairs are over there. 36.And they’re drunk, in a family film.

37/They didn’t kick them out for getting drunk in front of kids?

38.Wait, if they’re at the KK 2, who is taking care of the first one right now?

39.”You left one DAMNING piece of evidence-” Whoa, Language!

40.We did not see Plankton bring paper with him at all so I must question this.

41.Also, Mr. Krabs could try to find some stuff he wrote to show this isn’t his handwriting. 42.There’s never a phone here but it’s now there for this joke.

43.How can Plankton hear over anything over the phone if Mr Krabs hung up?

44.Mr Krabs’ clothes magically grow back

45.Discount My Leg!

46.Everyone in the Krusty Krab magically appears before that part, and disappears right after. Hell, you can see two fish eating in the background like nothing’s happening!

47.Patrick, out of nowhere!

48.Patrick being horny for Mindy goes nowhere and is a bit creepy.

49.The wheels are made of pickles in this shot, but when they leave, they are real wheels.

50.There’s seriously no one at the Krusty Krab or even outside to see this?

51.Stereotypical hillbillies are Stereotypical, and a bit annoying.

52.”No Patrick they’re laughing next to us” Hey, only I get to be pedantic around here!

53.How did no one see that guy coming?

54.How did she get that footage?

55.I like that the airhorn from the previous scene is sitll here but it was nowhere to be seen before than so..

56.The thug doesn’t recognize Patrick from earlier.

57 No one in the bar is seen with any tools normally used for bubble blowing, and since they somehow don’t know it came from the bathroom, no one in that room should be suspected.

58.They were standing in place the whole time and everything was far away when they beat up the double dude, so how did Patrick get the key?

59.Villain asks who can stop them now and it cuts to the heroes cliché.

60.A monster having an part that looks like a talking old lady makes no sense  and you know it, so let’s move on.

61.How did the bubble soap get outside?

62.The stairs to the trench randomly appear and reappear throughout this scene.

63.Patrick has only worn those underpants once in the whole show…and it was in an episode after this movie!

64.Even with that carriage, how did Mindy get here so fast? She has no mermaid magic.

65.“Did you see my underwear?” “No Patrick ‘ “Did you want to?” …Ew.

66. The plankton statue in complete in this shot, but in the next shot it’s under construction.

67.I know Plankton wanted Neptune to fry Mr Krabs, but since he controls everyone, couldn’t he storm the castle and use the bucket on Neptune to get the job done quicker?

68.Hate to get critical, but sometimes these cuts to Dennis ruin the flow of scenes.

69.How does that seaweed stay on?

70.“Why did we jump over the edge instead of taking the stairs?” Spongebob would be great at SpongeBobSins.

71.This song is awesome until you realized they lazily reused some title card music from the show.

…But it’s still awesome, so..

71. ”Even the hideous disgusting monsters!” That’s racist.

72.“That way you’ll never found out that he stole the crown” Dennis is an idiot.

73.Man, what is with this movie and characters appearing without being heard?

74.You know, randomly walking around underwater in a desolate area with barely any fish isn’t really that efficient, given what he’s using them for as we find out in a minute.(Although it clearly worked before so this sin is debatable)

75.Why does he wear his diver’s outfit while on land?

76.“Alexander Clam Bell!” Booooo

77.Okay, so how did Plankton get the crown all the way here anyway?

78.How the heck did they not see that huge crown this whole time?

The entire scene is insanely emotional, especially for SpongeBob. I’m not made of stone so…yeah.

78.The pirates ruins it a tad though.

79.Discount Potty, which makes the lack of Patchy worse. He’s even voiced by Stephen!

80.“Tears bring someone back to life” cliché.

81.Also, these detectors do not work that way.

82..Because a bit of water will bring dead fish back to life, right? It makes sense for the duo but not the ones that have been dead for ages.

83.Poop joke.

84.The Hasselhoff cameo is funny but how many kids even know him, even I 2004?

85,I’m not even gonna ask how Dennis got here with the boot. Still sinning it, of course.

86.Hoff barely feels this epic battle going on, on his back.

87.You’ve got a time limit but sure, 10 seconds to liftoff.

88.They made a big deal out of that lock but now it’s just gone.

89.Karen isn’t there before SB and Pat show up, but now she’s here.

90. Why didn’t he put the bucket on Neptune beforehand? Would have made this a lot easier, makes my previous sin more of an issue.

91.Now the talking cheese is gonna preach to us!

92.This is amazing, one of the best things ever…but it’s also the biggest Deus Ex Machina ever.

93.”No freakin’ way!” The soundtrack version changes this because freakin’ is just too intense for kids I guess.

Eh screw it, sin removed!

93. From the looks of it, the town literally fixed itself in a matter of hours.

94.“I was just tell you that  that your fly is down!” …He doesn’t wear pants. 95,Freeze frame ending.

96.The credits feel the need to inform us that Karen is a computer wife.

97. Way too many minutes of credits for the sake of padding the soundtrack. 98.Post credits scene. SpongeBob is my favorite Marvel movie.

MOVIE SIN TALLY: 98

SENTENCE: Beaten senseless (by every able boded patron in the bar)

And after a slight delay, this is finally done. Even though I had to refurbish something I already did, this sitll took some more, to see what new sins to add and what to keep I tried my best to make sure the sins are good here and hopefully only a few are weird/filler.

This is certainly a few easy movie to sin, but is still highly enjoyable. Might do a win post for it someday, we’ll see. But for now, here are the sins of a good representation of the series.

With that out of the way come back in about mid February or a bit later as dive into Season 4 and see how sinful it ends up being. I’m judging all SpongeBob on the same level, so we’ll see how the sins are.

See ya then.

(Dedicated to Stephen Hilenburg)

[kpopdancings]

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE, SỰ KHÁC NHAU GIỮA TIỂU THUYẾT VÀ PHIM

New Post has been published on http://www.whatsupkpop.com/howls-moving-castle-su-khac-nhau-giua-tieu-thuyet-va-phim/

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE, SỰ KHÁC NHAU GIỮA TIỂU THUYẾT VÀ PHIM

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

Link Video:

Opening

Following the resounding success of the 2001 animated classic Spirited Away, director Hayao Miyazaki continued to release a Japanese animated fantasy Howl’s moving castle. The film was inspired by the 1986 novel of the same name by British author Diana Wynne Jones.

Most Studio Ghibli fans turn to the book after watching the movie. This caused a little disappointment, a bit of “disillusionment” for the ladies who put too many dreams into the handsome wizard Howl in the movie. Although both the novel and the movie revolve around the two main characters – Sophie and Howl, there are huge differences in the storyline and character construction that cause both the novel and the film to turn in two directions.

Stay tuned with ASK KPOP until the end of the video to see what made “romantic fiction” fans disillusioned with the difference between novels and movies Howl’s moving castle.

Body

Sophie Hatter, a girl born into a family of hat makers, does not believe that luck will come to her and she will do something great in her life. She decided she would spend the rest of her life looking after the hat shop her father left. But her life changes after being cursed by the Witch of the Waste, turning her into an old woman, and worse yet, she can’t tell anyone about it. Fearing that her family would no longer recognize her, Sophie set out to find a way to cure the curse, and then arrived at Wizard Howl’s castle. Since then there is a big difference between books and movies, especially the plot and character lines.

The difference in the story between the novel and the movie

Because the novel Howl’s moving castle was written for children by writer Diana Wynne Jones, these factors such as : magic ,humor, fantasy come first. The content of the novel mainly tells about Sophie’s journey to break the curse. In that journey, Sophie has discovered the true strength of herself and the good qualities of those around her. However, when it was adapted to the big screen, director Hayao Miyazaki incorporated many lofty messages about love, peace, and anti-war.

Throughout the movie, we see a fight break out between Ingary (the land of Howl and Sophie is in) and the neighboring country, whereas there is no fierce battle in the original novel.

The whole movie revolves around the theme of anti-war, and its true villain is the pointless war and cause the loss. However, the original story directs the reader towards Sophie’s journey to find herself, how Sophie realizes her worth, which is partly through the movie. Coming to the movie, you will experience the brutal combat scene, the dark battleships .As for the book, Howl has to confront the Witch of the Waste and her powerful fire demon. The two missions of the movie and the novel have different message stories with different audiences, both great stories with their own merits.

The difference in the character’s personality between the novel and the movie

The second most highlighted difference between the novel and the movie is the characters. The characters in the book and in the movie are transformed from the original. Some minor characters have been removed or merged together with other characters. Characters with significant changes include:

(Howl)

Howl in the movie is a perfect version, a “Prince Charming” with many advantages in personality: courteous, gentle, and also the hero of fighting to protect Sophie.If you are familiar with this Howl image then Please be mentally prepared before reading the novel of the same name. Real name’s Howl  is Howell Jenkins, from Wales. It is mentioned in the book that the castle door leads to different places according to the color on the door, and the blackness opens into a dark night. However, the side when that black curtain was Wales in the 1980s, with modern equipment such as cars and computers . This is not mentioned in the movie.

In terms of personality, Howl in the novel is actually a “lady-killer” who flirts with so many beautiful ladies and any girl will not escape by him, until they fall in love with him, he leaves without leaving a trace. This was also the source of his trouble with the Witch of the Waste Throughout the novel, Howl spends most of his time dressing and grooming in order to win the hearts of beautiful girls, including her sister Sophie. The rest of the time, Howl sulked and acted like a child beside Sophie. Howl in the novel does not want to tie and always tries to avoid responsibility. But the more we read, the more we like Howl in the novel, because his personality is especially funny and witty. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell myself I’m not doing it.”  Throughout the novel, we see only a Howl chasing the girls, his words in the last chapter confuse readers and other characters: Howl is still searching and saving people from being lost from the Witch. Meanwhile, he tells himself “I’m not doing it”.

Howl in the movie gets rid of Howl’s flaws of the novel. Because the movie’s message is hind-minded about peace protection and anti-war, a heroic character is needed to be able to send the message to the audience. The hero in the movie is Howl, he is idealized in the film, becomes a hero fighting for peace, denouncing the destructive power of war. When the court asked Howl to go to war, Howl refused ,not for his cowardness. He knew from which side the war was coming from, then the end was like that for everyone, just bring pain only. However, at night, Howl quietly turns into a monster out to fight alone, fighting against planes and monsters that both sides release to tear each other up. It is an ideal, incredibly romantic image of a hero fighting evil, fighting for peace, and fighting for the things he loves. In the end, Howl in both the novel and movie has to face Howl’s problems and settle it.

(Sophie)

Sophie in the novel has red hair, stubborn, straightforward, and always seems angry after being cursed. She sees cleaning as a way to forget about the problem she is facing. She often talks to hats, clothes, objects around and this brings miracles, even life to them. Meanwhile, Sophie in the movie has brown hair and is much softer. She also knows how to control her emotions better, and she cleans out of order. However, Sophie in the movie has no magical powers. This is most noticeable in the part where Sophie meets Turnip-Head. Turnip-Head in the story is an inanimate scarecrow, but gets up and follows Sophie after hearing her talk. In the movie, Turnip-Head had life when Sophie met him. While the-story Sophie was very scared of Turnip Head and wanted to chase him many times, the Sophie-movie was friendly, even grateful to the Turnip-Head.

Sophie in the story has sent a message: “When we are young, let us go out and explore ourselves, we will find our power hidden and know what our strength is. and where is our limit. ” That is a very precious meaning that Sophie’s journey to find herself brings back.

  (Author)

Author Diana Wynne Jones observed that Howl and Sophie on-screen seemed “softer and more noble than their characters in my book.” In the movie, we really liked how Howl became “lost” as he transformed into a giant crow in battles and gradually “couldn’t return.” Meanwhile, Sophie’s curse fades more and more as she becomes stronger to save Howl and to heal herself. These details are not included in the book. However, I also want to say that Howl and Sophie in the book seem more real and that the quarrel between the two is what makes me appreciate their feelings more; love each other and learn to accept each other’s imperfections.

(Witch)

She was once a charming, powerful woman. Howl in the novel once chased and abandoned her. Both the story and the movie show Howl once captured a shooting meteor and gave it his heart in exchange for power, which is Calcifer. However, the sorceress in the novel cursed Howl to complete a list of things to do and they slowly led Howl back to her hand. In the movie, the witch tries to cast a curse on Howl, but he easily removes it. In the end, she lost her magic and became a pitiful, harmless old woman.

()

There are also some minor differences in the side characters. Sophie in the novel has two younger sisters, Lettie and Martha. Lettie is the younger sister sent to learn magic, and Martha is the assistant at the bakery. These two sisters exchanged looks and names in the beginning. Lettie is a huge support character in the series, even part 2 is present. However, the film only mentions Lettie – the sister at the bakery, and she can only say a sentence or two to Sophie and finish. Howl has an apprentice. In the book, he names Michael Fisher , a teenager. And, in the movie he names Markl , a boy. In the story, Suliman is the Royal Mage, male and missing. On screen, Suliman is a female magician who taught Howl before, and she is a bit mean.

  Ending

“Howl’s Moving Castle” is a film with a stunning image and a beautiful European context, but it does not lose the Japanese culture, oriental styles of Ghibli. The good soundtrack both “The Promise With The World” and “Merry Go Round of Life” are great tunes but for us  “Merry Go Round of Life” is still more beautiful, the scene of Howl holding Sophie’s hand , two people walking in the air together forever is a very beautiful, very romantic scene that is hard to describe in words.

Howl’s Moving Castle is not just a love story, a magical adventure and heart-fluttering romance, but also a story of growth and a journey to find oneself. Whether it’s a novel or a movie, the film’s meaningful message is expressed in tolerance, forgiveness after struggles, hatred, and curse. In addition, the extraordinary life energy of the people who have suffered many injuries in the film overcoming all the difficulties to achieve a happy destination is also the message that the filmmakers send to the audience.

[imaginekpoplikethis]

When It’s Her - Detective! Jung Hoseok X Reader - Part 3

Sorry, I was going to post this earlier but woke up to a message asking me to come into work 😭

But Guys omg i already know how this story is going to end and I don’t know when that is but I’m exciteddd 

Here’s the next part with lots of love from me 💕💕

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 - Here

Hoseok would be lying if he said he didn’t believe Dae-Jun had something do with this case. With her case.

Then again, it was his job to not jump into conclusions. Just because he disliked the man did not mean he could throw him behind bars and call it a day. That would simply bring about no justice, not to mention there would be a possibility of never seeing Y/N again if he pissed him off too much. If he was the culprit, he is completely capable of getting someone to finish the job he started whether he has or has not been caught.

It had been a couple of days since his visit to the company, each day bringing about no new information.

He and Jin-Sun had gotten together to summarise what they already knew and to, hopefully, make some small speculations. Drawing up a suspect list this early in the case with the limited amount of information they had was usually illogical. This was proven with the fact that it only contained one name, Dae-Jun.

It seemed as if he had hit yet another dead end and he was close to pulling his hair out.

“Jung, I’ve got your coffee.” With Jin-Sun’s words came a tinge of sadness. He already knew the bland taste of the coffee the young man had made for him would be disappointing. When Jin-Sun strolled from the entrance of the break room to him, he couldn’t help but discreetly grimace at the steaming coffee he held in his hands.

No offence to him but he can’t make coffee for shit.

Jin-Sun offered Hoseok a nervous smile. The slight glare said man was giving was one he would rather not be on the receiving end of. When Hoseok realised he was emitting a somewhat foul mood, he quickly dropped his expression, replacing it with one that could only be described as blank.

Jin-Sun didn’t know which was worse. The new expression his face held was, dare he say it, creepy. When he first entered the department, his new colleagues had jokingly introduced Hoseok as a ray of sunshine and he was quick to find out why. The young man was bursting with joy and constantly smiling. It seemed like there was never a dull moment with him around. The only times he would adopt a serious outtake was when he was working on a case but even then he was never as emotionally drained as he is now.

“Sir, can I ask... do you know the victim?” Hoseok’s eyes snapped up to meet Jin-Sun’s before he had even finished his sentence.

“No. I wouldn’t be working on this case if I did. Why?”

His eyebrows furrowed as if he was thinking about how to word his next sentence without offending Hoseok.

“Well, you’re noticeably sadder recently. It’s really out of character...”

Hoseok barely stopped himself from visibly breathing out a sigh of relief.

For a second I thought he was catching on...

“Just an extreme lack of sleep is all.”

That isn’t necessarily a lie though it is playing into the reason why I’m like this.

“To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were kind of sad about this. She made the best coffee and she was a great person to speak to too. I’m kind of upset she’s gone.”

His eyes were lowered, a downcast look wiping away the small bit of nervousness that had been etched on his face.

“Jung, there’s someone waiting to speak to you.” A female colleague popped her head around the entrance of the door, shooting both men a polite smile. Yi-Hyun was the name of the dark haired girl who currently stood at the doorway. She was fairly new to the department, only having worked on maybe four cases in total, her first being with Hoseok. You could say she was sort of like his apprentice and a good one at that. She graduated at the top of her class just missing top spot which was something she was unbothered about. All in all, she was a talented addition to the department.

A tap to his shoulder brought Hoseok out of his thoughts to see Jin-Sun motion towards her with his head. Rising from his seat, he exited the room and followed Yi-Hyun to the interview room, causing him to raise an eyebrow. She simply turned towards him, giving him a small wave and set on her way back to what he assumed was her desk.

Pushing open the door, he was greeted with none other than Dae-Jun. He was seated comfortable on the semi plush chair, a leg resting on his thigh and his arms crossed.

A smirk was dancing on his lips.

Hoseok frowned at him, a corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a disgusted manner.

“Hey, detective. Gosh, do I have something interesting to tell you.”

Hoseok’s eyebrow raised once more.

“I’m a private investigator.”

Dae-Jun dismissed his words with a flick of his wrist.

“Same thing. Anyway, there’s someone who holds a grudge against my beautiful lady and you may just want to look into her.”

Hoseok didn’t comment on his choice of words and opted to remain silent.

“It may seem strange but Lee So-Min was extremely jealous of Y/N and she just so happens to work at my company as head director of the marketing team!”

He spoke in an ecstatic tone as if he was delivering news of presents.

“Jealous of what? Last I checked, she seems to have the better job.”

“Well, what do you think girls get jealous over? Men of course. Y/N had all of my affection and time whilst So-Min was left alone. Maybe, I acted as a catalyst to her hatred towards Y/N but who knew a couple of nights alone together could change someone like that?”

Did I miss something here?

“Wait, hatred? I thought you said she was just jealous? Those are two different emotions.”

Dae-Jun leaned back in his seat, an indifferent expression replacing the smug one he had moments prior.

“Please. It wasn’t unknown how much she disliked her. Besides, with jealousy most of the time comes hatred. Especially between two women.”

He spoke so confidently you would think he studied women’s behaviour as a living.

“Why are you selling your go to woman out?”

His face grew dark at Hoseok’s words and he rested his hands on his knees, leaning forward.

“Watch what you say... that’s all in the past. I’d never do anything to hurt Y/N now.”

Paying no mind to his attempt at sounding intimidating, Hoseok pressed him for more information.

“Now?”

The smirk returned as did Hoseok’s annoyance.

“Well why do you think we broke up in the first place? You don’t think she just fell out of love with me, do you?”

With a personality like that I wouldn’t be surprised.

Hoseok narrowed his eyes at the man who seemed way too calm for it to be natural. In fact, he seemed to be gaining pleasure from discussing the apparent tension between the women in his life.

“So you cheated on her and she found out.”

Though Hoseok’s face bore an unimpressed look, his words held no particular tone to them. Dae-Jun dropped his smile and glanced towards the only window in the room.

“That bitch So-Min told her. She must have thought that by fucking up the relationship I had with the only woman I truly care about, i’d somehow begin to love her. She’s delusional.”

“I think the correct word would be ‘misled’.”

Dae-Jun’s eyes briefly snapped back to glare at Hoseok before he returned his attention to the window.

“Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. She ruined my relationship all over some stupid one off night. Or maybe three but that’s not the point. The point is, after I rejected her and gave her a piece of my mind, she had it out for  Y/N. Man, if you knew what she had done to her...”

Hoseok’s interest was piqued as Dae-Jun’s words trailed off.

“I heard one time she dumped a steaming hot drink on her at work. I guess that was one of the more recent incidents...”

-

Hoseok had once again managed to sneak away from work for half an hour which he decided to spend at Latte Da, unsurprisingly. As he reached the glass door, a grin plastered on his face, he had to jump back to avoid being hit with the door. If it hadn’t been for his good reflexes he’s probably be nursing an injured nose right about now.

Spinning on his heel to spot his would have been attacker, he was met with the rather tall frame of an office worker, speeding towards her car. Without a glance back she threw open her car door, got inside and drove off.

Frowning to himself, he finally made his way into the café only to be met with the scene of the girl he was currently interested in dripping wet with a dark liquid. Her usual co-worker had taken it upon herself to untie her apron and remove her jumper for her when she cried out in pain. It was only then that Hoseok noticed the scalding red marks that were decorating the skin of her neck, hands and partially her cheeks. Before he reached the desk, she was ushered into the staff room and disappeared from sight. She was soon replaced with Ki-Yong

“What just happened? She’s covered with red marks that look really painful.”

“I don’t even know. Some woman just came in, ordered a drink, asked for it to be heated up a bit more and just threw the whole think at her. I couldn’t go after her because she was crouched on the floor in pain. It was so hot! I don’t think it was enough to scar or anything but still... I wouldn’t want a hot drink thrown on me...”

It was then that both workers noticed Hoseok’s presence and returned to their respectful jobs, the girl asking for his order in a slightly disturbed voice.

Her words didn’t register in Hoseok’s brain as all he could think about was the look of agony that danced on the pretty face he thought about so often.

-

Hoseok was fuming when he had realised the reason behind that whole incident. Blaming the man sitting in front of him was like second nature and he had to clench his fists tightly, digging his nails into the palms of his hands to stop himself from doing something he knew he would come to regret.

“Man, I flipped at So-Min when I heard that.”

His eyes were distant as he was recalling the memory he had just voiced. It was then that Hoseok realised that there was one thing he didn’t quite understand.

“If she was this much of a problem, why didn’t you fire her?”

Nervousness flickered briefly across his face, his eyes dropping to inspect the floor. He seemed to be mentally debating with himself whether he should explain his reason for not ridding the company of its marketing head.

“Well, between you and me... she’s got a shit ton of dirt on me. Nothing too serious but... enough to fuck up my dads company.”

What a surprise. The Vice President has some secrets he’s keeping.

“Anyway, we’re going off topic. What I came to say is, you might want to question Lee So-Min. She’s...”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead rising from his seat and stretching, going out of his way to groan rather loudly. Giving Hoseok a mock salute, he strolled out of the door, no words being said.

Dae-Jun is holding way too many secrets for his own good...

[ges-sa]

Cosplayer Of The Month June 2017 | Chaotic Good Cosplay

New Post has been published on http://ges-sa.com/cosplayer-of-the-month-june-2017-chaotic-good-cosplay/

Cosplayer Of The Month June 2017 | Chaotic Good Cosplay

[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”25694″ img_size=”large” alignment=”right” style=”vc_box_circle”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”25693,25692,25691,25688,25686″][vc_column_text]Welcome to this wintery edition of Cosplayer Of The Month! The chilly season is definitely upon us now and we experienced it first hand during GeekFest 2017 right?? This is also where we got to know this month’s featured Cosplayer – Bronwyn from Chaotic Good Cosplay. She walked away with some of the awards from the GES Cosplay Contest and we wanted to get to know her a bit more and find out how she goes about crafting those amazing outfits….[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]Hi Bronwyn! Tell us a bit more about the person behind the cosplay persona?

Hi! I’m an electrical engineer by trade. I love making things and absorbing inspiration from everywhere!

How and when did you get started in Cosplay and why do you enjoy it?         

I first started being interested in cosplay at Geekfest 2016 while watching the skits. I threw on a few things from my cupboard for ICON 2016 then there was no looking back! I did my first proper cosplay at rAge 2016 and immediately wanted to start the next 100 projects! The most alluring thing about cosplay for me is being able to take a whole bunch of crafts and hobbies that I enjoy and create one masterpiece from them! It’s really awesome to have a hobby which teaches you so many new skills

Do you have any hobbies or interests outside of cosplaying? If yes, please tell us more about it      

Plenty! With crafts I always have at least three projects going at a time! I knit my own jerseys, I love embroidering, painting and sewing, not to mention cooking and baking! I’m also a super big fan of many series and anime as well as a gamer. Whenever I have the time I also enjoy dancing, running and hiking.

We all know that cosplay has been become a very expensive hobby these days, do you have hints or tips for other cosplayers as far as cutting down expenses etc are concerned?

Plan ahead. You can save a lot by only having to buy from a supplier every few months. I always buy at least two/three items from a supplier at a time to make shipping/petrol costs worth it. Buying in bulk also gives you the opportunity to negotiate the price with the seller at many places. Also shop around. China mall is your friend!

What is the one thing that you try and avoid when making a new costume?

Leaving everything to the last minute! My work becomes sloppy when I am rushing and also then it isn’t fun anymore, it becomes more a chore than a hobby. Also if you are up the whole night before a convention you probably aren’t going to enjoy yourself as much

Every Cosplayer has a favourite part of creating a costume or something they are really good at, what is yours?        

This is going to sound extremely silly but the planning of the costume. I treat each costume as a puzzle and think of different ways of tackling the problem before I actually start making anything. I get excited about all the different methods I could use. Planning is invaluable because it saves a lot of money if you know exactly how to approach the costume before you start and removes a lot of anxiety from the actual making of the costume. And having a backup plan is always a good idea!

Tell us about your most epic fail ever, whilst crafting a cosplay costume         

Maya from Borderlands that I made for rAge 2016! I had never made armour before and messed it up completely so I remade it the day before and then needed to attach it to my leotard somehow. So at midnight I was slapping on contact glue where the velcro was going to go, using myself as a model not knowing that contact glue can give you chemical burns! Then at the con itself whenever I sat down my armour folded in on itself and created a nasty crease. And if things couldn’t get worse the side popped open and I had to ask a stranger in the bathroom to pin me back together. Fail! Haha! I learnt a lot from that experience though

Which character do you consider to be your Holy Grail of cosplays?    

Erza Scarlet’s Heaven’s Wheel armour! I mean have you seen it? It’s amazing!

Which international con would you really love to go to and why?       

All of them!!!! I think DragonCon is freshest in my mind at the moment though. They really had some amazing panels and some epic cosplays this year! So much FOMO!

Congrats on winning all those awards at GeekFest 2017! Can you tell us a bit more about your Nico Yazawa from Love Live cosplay?     

Absolutely! I chose Nico because we (Triple Threat Cosplay) did a skit as Bibi from Love Live! We decided on the animal costumes because they are so cute and fitted the theme of the dance. My entire costume is made of black and white fur with a wave pattern rippling through it. I spent a lot of time making sure that everything was perfectly aligned, fitted and hemmed properly but my big magic trick was that the entire thing is pattern matched!. Yup, even the flaps of the pockets. It was my first time attempting this technique so I was really chuffed with the results. I also made my own pom-poms out of the scraps and styled the wig myself. Those pigtails were hard to get to be that bouncy but it was absolutely worth it!

South Africa’s convention scene has been growing leaps and bounds over the last couple of years. Do you have any tips for the other cosplayers as to how to stay comfortable throughout the day?

Think about how you are going to get into and out of a costume and how you are going to transport it. You don’t want to have to leave half of your costume behind because it didn’t fit in the car! Make sure you can sit down, eat and drink in your costume (as well as use the loo by yourself!). Do your research! See how other cosplayers have done the same character before and find out why because it may just save your bacon! Lastly bring a change of clothes just in case as well as eye drops and a LOT of water.[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”25685″ img_size=”large” alignment=”center” onclick=”img_link_large”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1445504261410border-top-width: 3px !important;border-top-color: #aa71e2 !important;border-top-style: solid !important;”][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_column_text]

COSPLAYER BIO

Real name Bronwyn Scott Cosplay name Chaotic Good Cosplay Age 24 Current home town Johannesburg

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FIND CHAOTIC GOOD COSPLAY ON SOCIAL MEDIA

Facebook Chaotic Good Cosplay Instagram @chaoticgoodcosplay WorldCosplay.net Chaotic Good Cosplay

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COSPLAYER ROULETTE

My favorite anime/manga from this list Naruto / Dragon Ball Z / Sailor Moon / Fullmetal Alchemist / Fairy Tail is

Fairy Tail

Why do you like this particular title?        

Because it always motivates me to push myself and the feels are so real!

My favorite platform to watch or experience my favorite titles is – Movies / TV / Series / Books / Comics

TV Series

Complete the sentence: I want to run after them and tell them that ……          the cake is a lie![/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”25687″ img_size=”large”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”25690,25689″ img_size=”medium” title=”Bronwyn’s GeekFest Cosplay Contest 2017 Winning Entry”][vc_column_text]

Pictures were supplied to GES-SA by the featured Cosplayer. We do not own these pictures so if you do, and you would like to us to add the credit please drop us a mail to linda@ges-sa.com

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[weareallfallengods]

Flight from Grace Chapter 1- A small stumble

The long-awaited, actually edited, complete first chapter of the novel that I began for NaNoWriMo 2019! Please, like, reblog, but most of all, COMMENT!

Synopsis: What happens when a Fallen Angel with no memory of her own eternal past meets a woman who can see her for who she really is? A head on collision between the world as we know it and an eternal battle between the immortals tasked with safeguarding the mortal realm. 

Grace can see things she shouldn’t be able to; after all, immortals have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we can’t see them as they really are, so Something Has Changed, so she and her Fallen Angel will find out what’s going on, and why they seem to always be stuck in the middle of it all, but most importantly, why they’re drawn to each other in the first place.

Themes: Angels and Demons, examination of mortality and our understanding of and belief in the supernatural as well as the eternal nature of existence. The battle between good and evil covering a multi-planar universe, and how no one is ever what they seem to be when we look past prejudices and social judgements. LGBTQ+, proper ethnic and cultural representation (read: most characters aren’t straight or white!).

Triggers: If you don’t like stories that put an often irreverant and sacriligeous spin on Christian mythos, this isn’t for you. LGBTQ+ romance, slow burn, non-explicit. 

——————————————————————————————–

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Some neanderthal interrupted my deep contemplation of the double whiskey sour in front of me. Which was very rude. Whiskey sours demand your undivided attention and get cranky if ignored for too long. He should have known that, but either he didn’t know or didnt care, so either way- neanderthal.

He was leaning on the bar with the casual air of someone who has done this same dance too many times, the practiced ease of a used car salesman slapping the roof of a car. At least this one’s breath wasn’t too foul. Not that this hadn’t happened before. Oh no, I’d never been badly hit on in this bar like ten thousand times already. No that never happened. I was able to just sit in peace with my drink for the entire night. Yeah, right. Why do I keep coming back then, you ask? Well, Grace makes one hell of a whiskey sour for one thing.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Ugh, this one wasn’t going away with simply being ignored. Lovely.

“Excuse me?” I looked over languidly, with as much disdainful irritation on my face as I could possibly muster from the depths of my three-drinks-in soul.

“I said, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

His stupid shit-eating leer didnt help my mood any. I wasn’t ever in a good mood if I showed up here, and that’s probably one of the reasons I kept coming back- assholes like this gave me a vent for my foul mood.

“No actually. It’s less of a fall and more of a stumble really. More like getting tossed out of a club by a bouncer than falling down the stairs. Couple of bruises, a minor scrape, more damaged pride than anything really.”

I could see his monkey-brain churning slowly to try and digest my response that didn’t fit his pre-programmed scenario. I half expected to see steam coming out of an ear. God, some men are just so… ew.

“Um, what?”

Apparently I broke him. Well, that happens sometimes, when I give someone a response they weren’t expecting. Which happens more often than I’d be willing to admit to myself.

“I said that getting tossed out of heaven doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would. It’s not that far of a tumble really.”

He chuckled, “That’s real cute darlin’, never heard that one before! How’s about you and me find a table so I can hear more about it? Maybe have a look at those bruises, make sure you don’t need more…attention.”

Sweet Mother of Mikhail, that was bad. Like even worse than his initial pickup line. I almost had to respect his commitment to such a shitty way of trying to pick me up. He had some balls, that’s for sure, either from drunken stupidity or pure ignorant self-confidence. They say that bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, and here was their shining example.

“Believe me sweetie, you don’t want my ‘attention’,” I said softly, for the first time raising my eyes to lock with his glazed gaze. “My attention can become very… uncomfortable.”

He started to smirk for just a split second, but when my eyes met his, both the smirk and the color melted from his face. His mouth hung slack as he felt his soul staring down the opening fiery abyss that he found reflected in my eyes. I watched his mind recoil in horror at the emptiness it saw as it tried futilely to pull back from the horror of empty infinity it was confronted with. I saw in his eyes the sudden awareness of how small and insignificant his place in the universe was, and shrink in horror, trying to flee internally only to find that there’s no escape from your own mind and the finality of human existence.

I looked away just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. No need to cause a scene with him passing out. After all, my whiskey sour was crying from being ignored. As they do.

“I think you should probably go home now Blake,” I demurred softly. “You’ve probably had enough, and your wife would be happy if you tucked the children into bed for once. Oh, and coffee won’t remove the smell of alcohol, so just have a peppermint. Your kids like that smell, reminds them of Christmas.”

He kind of half nodded, like a sleepwalker. I sighed. Hopefully he doesn’t have an existential crisis later and just shrugs it off as being too drunk. Hell, maybe he’ll cut back on the sauce. I hate it when I hear about someone offing themselves after meeting me, especially if they have kids. Well, hopefully he just takes the daily inebriation down a notch or two. I can hope, can’t I?

As he shuffled off, lager forgotten at the bar, I hoped he’d be alright. Genuinely. Sure, I enjoyed taking my frustration at being stuck here out on them, but I didn’t actually wish them lasting harm. A lesson or two in politeness and decency, a minor scuffle to break up the monotony, but no real damage. That’s what I told myself anyway. Made it easier to pretend to sleep at night. Hope he makes it home ok. Hope his kids get a happy memory of daddy saying goodnight for once. Hope he says he loves his wife, and apologizes. Hah. Yeah. Like that’ll happen. But, what can I say, I’m a foolish optimist at heart. And nothing hurts more than having your hopes crushed. I should know.

Damn. My drink was crying, a small puddle of condensation soaking into the bar napkin it rested on. Again. Another sigh. And one more for the first sigh. I hate sighing. It’s the most comprehensive sound of the acceptance of defeat ever created. The acknowledgment of futility. And I hate that. I thought I’d be fighting to the bitter end, but apparently Destiny had other plans. Fucking Destiny. She’s the whole reason I’m even drinking in the first place.

“Get you a fresh one?”

A sweet silver-bell tinkle of a voice broke my unintentional reverie. Grace was back, checking on me. She knew my peccadilloes by now. She knew how much I hated when my drink got watered down by the ice melting if it got ignored for too long. I nodded.

She smiled pleasantly and slid over a new drink, already prepped.

“I figured, after that creep pounced on ya.”

I frowned slightly. There was something different about this one. Hunh. Oh, the ice. There wasn’t any. There were two black cubes sitting in it instead. OK, why are there rocks in my drink?

I looked up at Grace, still slightly puzzled.

“Oh those? Yeah I noticed you didn’t like it when your drink gets watered down, so I bought some Irish whiskey stones! That way your drink stays cold, but doesn’t dilute. Got 'em special, just for you.”

I cocked one eyebrow slightly, “Just for me?”

“Yep! Let’s face it, you’re the only one who comes in here with that kind of class, so I put 'em in the freezer back here with a big 'ol note so Jimmy doesn’t think I’m crazy for keeping rocks in the fridge,” her airy chuckle sprinkled across my ears.

I stared. I was in shock. OK, well maybe I’m being dramatic, but I was still surprised. People don’t normally do nice things for me. Or to me for that matter. If I’m honest, they mostly run away.

“Why…” I couldn’t even formulate a coherent sentence. Jesus, get yourself together!

“I dunno, I just figured you don’t seem like you have anyone looking out for you, and you seem to attract a lot of the wrong sort of attention, so I thought you could use a nice surprise, y’know, cheer you up a little.”

I nodded, more in surprise than agreement. I literally couldn’t recall the last time someone voluntarily tried to do something nice, just for me, no hope or expectation of reward or compensation. I was probably silent a little too long for a comfortable conversation. Hey, I was revelling in the new experience, cut me some slack.

“Well. Wow, um, thanks.” Yeah real smooth. Sweet Mikhail’s Grave I have no idea how to actually talk to this woman.

In retrospect, that should have been my first clue, but hey, I was a little distracted.

“I appreciate it, that’s really sweet of you.” Ok that’s slightly less glaringly awkward.

“Not trying to be rude at all, but I gotta ask- what’s your deal? Like you come in here all the time, lookin’ like a million bucks, never talk to anyone, get in fights every so often, get harassed like every single time but you keep coming back? I mean, I’m not trying to pry if you don’t wanna talk, but you know, like I’m totally trying to pry!”

Now it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. Oh Fates, how your twists are cruel. I closed my mouth a lot faster than the sot from earlier though, so my pride wasn’t too damaged.

“It’s kind of a long and uninteresting story really. Mostly, you make the best whiskey sour. And the people here are…interesting.”

“Honey, there’s no way a story coming from someone who looks like that,” she waved generally up and down at me, “could possibly be boring. Plus, it’s slow, as always, so humor me.”

Sometimes, I can be kind of thick. Slow. Moronic. A nincompoop. A maroon. Several minutes of conversation with this girl and I only just now noticed- she hadn’t looked away from my eyes. She was meeting my gaze with no problem. She wasn’t sweating and shaking and passing out. She was looking me right in the eye, just like a normal person, no fear showing on her face. No reaction at all. Just a normal girl, having a normal conversation, with what she thought was another normal person.

“Are…you OK?” Grace looked a bit concerned.

Aw shit, I was staring, and not even trying to hide it. Well now I felt dumb. And, why did I feel dumb? What was up with this girl that she made me feel so self conscious, so uncomfortable, like one of those fainting goats that just freezes and falls over when you blink too hard at them. Speaking of blinking really hard.

“Um, oh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Really. Sorry, just not many people actually want to have a real conversation with me.”

Grace leaned over the bar a little, propping up on her elbows, lowering her tone a bit. “Well, I don’t know why, 'cuz you sure seem hella interesting to me.”

“Hunh. Well, I don’t know about that. But I would like to ask you something first, if you don’t mind?”

“Fire away honey!”

“This might sound odd, but, why aren’t you looking away? What do you see when you look at me?”

She pulled a tiny bit closer. “Nothin’ more than just about the sparkly-est green eyes I ever seen; a dash of blue, like the Bahamas. Somethin’ else I can’t quite put my finger on…” as she trailed off, I felt her finger lightly brush the knuckles on my hand that was still holding my drink. “I kinda wanna find out though.”

OK, now that was smooth. Holy fuck, that was really, really smooth. Like two hundred year old Laphroaig single malt filtered through the blessed socks of His Holiness the Pope smooth. Hold up, now she was trying to pick me up? What the hell universe? What’s going on here?

I swallowed, unable to look away now myself. “That’s all? Nothing that scares you?”

“Not yet, sugar.”

Alright, that’s different.

         * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I grabbed her hand. Maybe a little too hard from the slight wince I saw.

“OK we need to leave. NOW.”

“Hold up honey, we were just talkin’, we ain’t there yet!” She tried pulling back a little.

“No, no, you don’t understand! I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be able to see that. I can’t explain right now, but we have to figure out how you can see me that way.”

“But my shift’s not over for a couple more hours!”

“OK OK, I’m not being clear, sorry, this is the first time this has happened, so I’m a little shaken.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She actually blushed a little. “I just saw how you shot down every guy who came up to you, and I thought….well, you know, maybe…omg I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you! I come on strong sometimes, when I’m interested in something, and when you first walked in, I saw those heels and that dress, and I just was like ‘oh wow’ and kinda couldn’t breathe for a minute, you know I don’t see many girls come here lookin’ like that and oh God now I’m babbling and someone please shut me up I’m so sorry…”

I put a finger over her lips, gently.

“I’m not upset. Far from it actually. But we have something a tiny bit more urgent than that to address. I’m not who you think I am. Or what, I should say. But more to the point, there’s something bigger going on here. And I need to find out what. Fast.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad I hit on you?”

“We don’t have time for that now!” She recoiled slightly at my vehemence. “No, I’m not upset, but that’s not the point! You shouldnt be able to see my eyes. My real ones anyway. I was too slow on picking that up right away, and I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, now, because something is different, and in my world, that’s never a good thing.”

“Your world?”

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but I’ll explain later! I need you to come with me now. We need answers, and we need them fast. So, do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Yeeeeees? I think? Like I wanna, but I don’t really know you?”

“Good enough for now! Let’s go!”

To her credit, she just dropped her bar towel, grabbed her phone from under the bar and came out from behind it, grabbing my hand as she yelled to the back, “Hey Jimmy! I gotta leave! Personal thing- cover for me?”

Just then, there was a bit of a commotion at the door. Grace turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what was there. I just clutched her hand even tighter and yanked her towards the back; there was an emergency exit near the bathrooms from what I remembered of that one really bad 'birthday’. Yeah, that was a bad one. But we ran.

Good thing I’m not super tall, wouldn’t want to draw attention, I thought to myself sarcastically. Goddamn heels. Why do I even wear these?

Sounds of glass breaking and shouting reached us as we plowed through the emergency exit into the alleyway. Don’t worry about that now, just keep moving.

“This way!” I pulled her to the front of the alley.

“Holy shit, that’s your bike?” She sounded genuinely impressed. Finally, I wasn’t the only one who had that reaction at seeing it. 

“Oh yeah, she’s a sweet ride, and perfect for this situation. Or any situation, really. Jump on.”

I probably should have shut the door behind us, but hey, it was a day for me missing obvious things. The noise coming from the bar was getting louder.

“I’ve never done this before!” Grace exclaimed excitedly in my ear as I kicked my beast to life.

We roared out into the street, my white and gold Valentino’s left sparkling on the pavement where I kicked them. Fuckin’ useless, beautiful shoes. Sigh, they weren’t cheap. Oh well, they’re just shoes.

“Where are we going!?” Grace yelled over the rush of wind whipping our hair like tiny flails of purgatory.

“Not sure yet! But we’re going to find out!”

“I don’t even know your name!”

My heart sank a bit.

“Don’t worry! Neither do I! ”

                  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The bar exploded behind us as it faded into the night thanks to the fabulous Ducati between our legs. Oh and that wasn’t metaphorical- I glanced in the mirror at the sound; it literally exploded. Ball of fire and all. I guess that’s to be expected, what with all the alcohol and what I’d suspected for a while was going on in the basement. Way too many flammable liquids in one place. But that didn’t really matter now. All that mattered was getting away from what caused the explosion as fast as we possibly could. 

“What the hell was that!?” Grace yelled in my ear. Again. I’m going to have to get some headsets or something if this is going to be a habit. Well, the riding together part, not the fleeing for our lives part anyway. 

“I’ll explain as soon as we can talk, promise! For now, just hold on! And don’t look behind us!“ 

“As if I’m gonna let go now!”

That glance in the rear view told me as much as I needed to know, which was more than I wanted, but enough to have an idea of what we were running from. I mean, I figured that’s what it was, but I’m still tired of being right, even after all this time. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. 

That pale blue and red glow was enough. Hell, the noise it made had been enough for me to know what it was. And trust me, I was not overreacting by running first. I’d seen that color a few too many times in my life to think that there was anything else to be done except run. Once was more than enough for anyone. Who am I kidding? Most people don’t get a chance to see it more than once. Guess I’m just lucky. Or the opposite. Pretty sure I’m the latter actually. 

Grace was shivering on my back as we sped away. She’d gone quiet, her mood matching the night around us, the neon signs and street lights reflecting their multi-colored halos in the rain-slicked streets. Fog was starting to rise from the pavement, adding to the soft glow the streets were taking on. Thin, wispy strands curling around street lights and bus stops, blasted into nothing as the bike tore through them, the roar of the exhaust shattering the relative quiet of the late night calm. 

Well, it should have been quiet anyway. The explosion of the bar kind of changed that. Then came the sound. 

It mixed with the growing whine from the crotch rocket under us, which seemed like a fitting counterpoint to the cacophony of something that sounded like if you’d thrown a hundred maltese dogs into a tornado and then blasted it over a crappy school intercom. I hated that sound. Almost as much as the dogs it reminded me of. 

“Aw shit, it saw us.” Time to see if the tires on this baby gripped as well as the kid at the shop claimed they did. 

Well, at least there wasn’t too much traffic. Still, even though there weren’t many trucks and accountant-driven sedans to weave in and out of, there were still enough of them that it took a hell of a lot more concentration than my alcohol soaked brain was ready to deal with. Definitely hadn’t planned on being the next Lewis Hamilton after a night at the bar, that’s for damn sure. 

“What the fuu….?” Grace’s expletive trailed off in the whipping wind as I kept us weaving in and out and through, gunning the shit out of my bike whenever there was an opening big enough to do so without turning us into extremely messy, if fashionable, pancakes.

“Try not to worry about it! OK I mean, yeah, worry, but not like understand worry!”

“How the hell do you not worry about…that!?”

I took a good look back for the first time as we whipped around a corner, using the rain-slick street to slide without losing any speed. My heart sank. At least it wasn’t in my throat choking me anymore. Sarcastic positivity in the face of death? Yeah that’s my jam. Even if I do keep it to myself. Most of the time anyway.

The damn thing was getting closer. Faster than I thought it could. Damn, tonight just wasn’t my night for noticing things, now was it?

That second of splitting my attention nearly sent us flying and a tired busboy standing at the corner bus stop to the hospital, but we only just missed him, with barely enough room to avoid slamming into the back end of something that should have been parked at a kids soccer game, not getting on the expressway at this time of night. 

Slipping into an alley entrance, Grace’s nails dug through the flimsy material I was wrapped in, making me yelp in surprise. 

“Sorry,” she muttered.

I was about to tell her it was cool, considering the circumstances, and given that I wasn’t sure if it made me jump because it hurt, or her hands were cold, or because of where they’d slid down to, when we blew out the other side of the alley, causing a literal postcard explosion from the stand I clipped as we bounced out on to the main road again, just in time to swerve hard to avoid becoming Penske poster-girls for a single truck. 

"Sweet Jesus fuck! What the hell IS that?”

Goddammit, didn’t I tell her not to look back? I wasn’t going to tell her how the beast chasing us had seen us dart down the alley, and since it couldn’t fit through the traffic as neatly as we could, silently charge down the side of the building, slamming into the same shop front that had so recently lost it’s postcard stand as it tried to take the same corner, still snuffling the ground and air to track us. I managed to gain us a few precious seconds of lead as it disentangled itself from the fruit cart, re-launching itself down the alley, bicycle wheel still caught in it’s whiskers that streamed and whipped behind it.

“It’s running fucking sideways on the buildings!”

Aw shit. She can see it. I was afraid of that.

And that was all the distraction it needed too. 

With a last spring off the corner of an empty flower shop, the beast took a massive swipe at us. Come on, come on, make the corner! It’s thick talons cut a blazing arc through the rain as it howled. One of its claws caught the rear end of the bike, knocking it heavily to the side, and nearly throwing Grace off. Good thing she’s got a death grip on my hips right now. Oh boy don’t think of that, too distracting right now, that’s how you get killed!

Grace screamed again as the bike was whipped around violently from behind, and Grace she was confronted with a vision not even her wildest nightmares could have come up with. At least, I hope she doesn’t have nightmares like this anymore. 

The beast’s jaws opened wide to crush us like a nutcracker on adderall, glowing drool whipping around in thick, viscous strands from teeth bigger than my hand, while she seemed mesmerized by the halo of tentacle-like whiskers that seemed to float in slow motion, despite how fast everything was happening. The beast looked at me, it’s eyes burning red meeting mine as I tried to maintain my grip on the bike that was rapidly being torn from my hands. I was holding on to that tank with my knees in a way that would have made the Russian Women’s weightlifting team proud. I could hear the scream that tried to jump from Grace’s mouth only for it to turn into a slow rush of soundless breath as she slammed into my back from the force of me yanking that bike around as hard as I could possibly manage. 

Ground. Street. Tires on. People off. Stay upright. Don’t let go. Run.

The bellow from the beast behind us meant nothing to me now. I was numb, my world narrowing to the few feet in front of me, and Grace behind me. Swerve. Dodge. Car. Bike. Red light. Faster. Green. Faster. Faster. Get away. Car. Car. Bus. Turn. 

Suddenly the cars all dropped away. The turnpike. Oh thank God. I opened up the throttle all the way and finally realized I should probably start breathing again. 

Grace was trying to yell something, probably wanting an explanation. I mean I can’t blame her, but I said I’d explain! Did it look like now was suddenly the time for it? Then again, maybe it was important. 

I turned my head a bit to try to talk to her, but I paused with my mouth still open. The beast was gone.Like gone gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Not even like really far away gone, just not there any more. I squinted. Yeah, that was a little too easy.

“Did we get away?” 

I was actually about to answer her, when a glowing blue shape cashed into us from the side, just as I was starting to finally let my legs relax a little. Everything seemed to slow down. I know, everyone says that, but it’s true! I don’t know, maybe it was the whiskey sours, but as soon as we got hit, the world turned in to super slow-mo as the bike was ripped from my hands, and I felt Grace be pulled away from me. 

This thing tossed us like a couple of rag dolls thrown from a child’s stroller being kicked by a football player. Or at least it started to go that way. Somehow, as the bike ground across the pavement, with just my left hand managing to keep any kind of hold on the bike, I managed to swing myself around it like a gymnast on a gold-medal winning vault-horse routine, snagged Grace’s bar apron with my free hand, and with sheer desperate strength, yank all three back together, right as the beast’s slavering maw snapped shut on empty air where Grace’s head had been just milliseconds before. Through pure accident of positioning, my toes raked across it’s eyes as my leg swung around and I slammed them back down on the pegs, jammed the throttle all the way open, even as Grace somehow managed to complete the circle I’d pulled her in, ending by straddling my hips, arms and hair akimbo while we slid sideways, fortunately tires first. 

Grace’s eyes were wider than a kid who opened their eyes to Disneyland on a Christmas morning as she slammed into me, and I used our momentum to get the bike fully upright, only barely escaping a second snap from the beast as it lunged again, trying to tear us apart. 

That near miss, and the sigh of relief I almost let happen, didn’t get a chance to last long. 

Her damn hair was in my face, which at any other time, wouldn’t have been a problem, really, but just at that second, was incredibly, blindingly, distracting. And it might have saved our lives. 

Something hot burned into my shoulder and face as the sound of crashing metal and people yelling slammed into me. Hm, spicy.

“Shit! Watch out! Sorry!” Grace called to the one lady who wasn’t running for the hills as we smashed through her food cart. Can you get third-degree barbecue sauce burns? Food trays, sauces and meat all went flying as we dervished our way right through the middle of her street-side restaurant, sweet and spicy and sticky all at once, all over the ground, and all over me and Grace as well. I couldn’t think of anything more than just keeping everything together and moving forward. Run. The only thought occupying my mind. Just run.

“Hey.”

The softness of her voice is what brought me back to the girl squished up against me and out of the rabbit-instinct flight mode I was in. 

I don’t know why but for some reason, my brain decided that was the perfect moment to notice that I’d never realized how captivating the color brown could be. Grace’s eyes were less than inches from mine, and I froze for a second. Again. 

“I think it’s stopped.”

I glanced back. The beast had been right on top of us when we hit the food cart, but now it was standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, sniffing around for all the world like the biggest, dumbest, glowiest dog you’ve ever seen. OK, a dog that could tear a truck apart like a box of tissues, but still. 

“What the hell is it doing?” 

“Maybe it’s hungry.”

I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I’d never seen one of these things just…stop like that. It didn’t make sense. 

No time to think of that right now, just enough time to dart down another alley, blocking the beast from view as it sat down to lap up all the spilled barbecued beef at its feet. 

As we weaved and darted through alleys and parking lots, squeezing through sidewalks and darting across small streets, I started to recognize where we were now, and had the barest inkling of a plan besides ‘get away without dying.’

“Whatever that thing is, I think it likes barbecue.”   

Grace’s whispered comment snapped me back to what was right in front of me, the whole reason I was in this kind of mess again in the first place. . 

“Hunh?”

“I think it stopped to eat at the barbecue stand we knocked over. It’s not chasing us anymore- look.”

I tried to check the mirror again, only to find they’d both been ripped off by now, so switched to glancing over my shoulder quickly, and saw no ominous glow behind us, other than the few street lamps on the small boulevard we were going down. 

“Barbecue?” I was still pretty confused. Probably drunk too. But definitely confused. 

Grace’s laugh was carried away on the night like fireworks swept away in a light breeze. “Well, I dunno what the hell that thing was, but I haven’t met anyone yet who wouldn’t drop everything for good barbecue, honey.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Well it’s good to see I’m not the only one here who can make wildly ridiculous comments with horrible timing!”

“Funny the things you think about when you should be focusing on other stuff that’s a little more important, hunh? Like right now, all I can think about is a nice rack of ribs.” Grace grew quieter as her head sank back down on to my shoulder. “Where we headed, sugar?”

“Somewhere close. Safe. I think.”

                     * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The old loft was just as dank and dirty and run down on the inside as it looked on the outside. Probably worse. No diamonds in the rough here, that’s for sure. Broken glass scattered on the beat up industrial floor scattered the glow of the streetlight through the mist that filled the space. Definitely not up to my usual standard, but hey, we couldn’t really complain too much.

Throwing an old, discarded, and probably moldy, but definitely more disgusting than I wanted to ever touch again, mover’s blanket over the plate window helped to at least hide a little bit of how gross this place looked. Plus, privacy. A quick scan around and I found a pile of old tarps and a couple skeezy mattresses that I definitely wasn’t going to think about where they’d been or who’d done what on them for how long. It’d have to do. A dirty mattress was a small price to pay for still being alive.

“It’s not the Four Seasons, but it’ll do for now. It’s kinda cold- I don’t think the building even has heat, but I think we can keep warm enough to make it through the rest of tonight at least.”

Grace flopped down heavily on the mattress, exhausted, shoulders slumped, staring vacantly at the floor.

“That was…was that…I don’t even know where to start. My brain’s been turned to oatmeal. What…? What happened? What in the name of all fucks just happened?”

“Yeah, there’s kind of a lot to unpack here isn’t there?” I just crumpled down into one of the old blankets like a sock puppet being dropped into its nest. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Ya think? Like one minute, I’m trying to mind my business, working my shift at the bar, wondering whether I’m going to have to give another statement to the cops after another bar fight breaks out, and the next I’m getting tossed around like a hot sweet-potato, almost get eaten by a glowing, walking catfish that got beaten a little too hard with the ugly stick, get covered in barbecue sauce, do-si-doed by a goddamn motorcycle ninja, only to wind up in some place that looks like it was lifted straight out of Zillow for Crackheads!”

A snort of wry, tired amusement escaped me. “Yeah, I guess it really does look that bad here. I mean, I’m surprised this place is even still standing after all this time, but you’re right, it definitely looks a bit sketchy.”

“Way to avoid the point, hun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not sure why, but she kept making me nervous, and the way she was sort of frowning while pinning me down with those sparkling coffee eyes definitely wasn’t helping. Probably just wasn’t used to people making eye contact. Which was the whole reason I was in this mess to begin with. Another sigh. 

“Alright. I’ll explain as much as I can. You deserve that much.”

Grace flopped down on the edge of the mattress, chin propped in her hands for all the world like a kid during goddamn story time. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when she’s doing things like that? Look away! Only way to save myself for now. 

“OK, here goes. So the thing you saw? Well, it’s a…” I scowled. “It’s a…sunuvabitch, I don’t really know what it’s called. Alright, further back then. The basics. Got it.

“Supernatural things exist. Like you believe that humans are the highest species on this planet and that you’re all alone in the universe, and no one can quite agree on whether there was anything before or after this life or what happens when you die, right? Well, a lot of what most people believe to be myth or religious superstition is actually, um, real.”

So she hasn’t tried to run away just yet. That’s a good sign, right?

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, from the bits I can remember, what you would call ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ are real places- they’re just not really visible to mortals. Most of the time. ‘Angels’ and ‘demons’ are real things too, but they’re a little bit different than most people tend to think of them from what I’ve seen. 

“I don’t know how many there are, but there’s angels and demons walking around, living just like you and me, every day. The thing is, that mortals like you can’t see them. And that’s where the problem is.”

“Like me?” It wasn’t really a question. Her tone made that clear enough.

“Oh boy. OK, here’s the big one- because with the heaven and hell stuff, most people can be like ‘meh, it’s all superstitious nonsense anyway’ and brush it off. This? Not so much. 

“I’m not human. Or mortal. I can see angels and demons walking around plain as day, just like the ones I’ve met can see me. Mortals…see something else.”

“Like the creep at the bar earlier? Did he see…something else? In you?”

“Yeah. On the outside, at first glance, I look like any other girl. But look closer? Well, you saw what happened. People just aren’t ready to see my real nature.”

“But that didn’t happen to me.” Now Grace was looking a little bit confused- but the kind of confused you get when a teacher is explaining something that you know should make sense, even if you were having a hard time getting it. 

“No, it didn’t. And it took me way too long to pick up on that. I should’ve realized right away. If I had, maybe I could have gotten you out of there faster and that whole ‘sweet potato’ thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“So what should I be seeing? When I look into your eyes I mean?”

“Probably something along the lines of falling through an eternally expanding universe, a sense that you’re tinier than a piece of sand in the scope of the cosmos, that sort of thing. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from a couple of the ones who were able to be slightly coherent afterwards. There haven’t been many of those over the years.”

“Wow. I definitely don’t see that.”

“And that’s the problem, really. I’ve never heard of something like that happening before. I don’t know what it means, or why you can, or anything! All I know is that something is very, very different, and very, very wrong, otherwise that thing wouldn’t have been after us. And right now, I don’t know if what’s wrong is you, or me, or both of us. But we need to find out if we’re going to not be looking over our shoulders for…what did you call it again?”

Grace laughed. A genuine laugh, not weighed down by worry or terror. “A glowing, walking catfish?”

“Ha ha, yeah, that got beaten too many times with the ugly stick!”

Grace sat up suddenly, nodding sharply to herself. “Alright, well, you’re either batshit crazy, or I owe my gran an apology.” Grace was still half chuckling, but looking very intent. 

“Your gran?”

“Yeah, she was super religious, always prayin’, talkin’ and singin’ about god. She must’ve gone to church three times a week! Boy, would she have loved to hear all this.”

“I’ll bet!”

“So, I just wanna make sure I’ve got all the stuff you said- angels are real, and something’s wrong with the fact that I can see your real eyes, and not like, the fires of the Big Bang or something, but you don’t know why that’s a problem or what caused it.. Right?”

“I’d say that about covers it for now, yeah.”

“Alright, I can live with that much for now. I’m clean tuckered out, and you look like you’re about to just fall over any second now. Whaddya say we call it a night?”

“Yeah.” I really could barely keep my eyes open at this point. I guess pretending my motorbike was a juggling pin kind of took it out of me.

Grace popped up, suddenly all business.

“So doesn’t look like this place has a big ol’ tub to dump you in, so we’ll have to settle for a couple of wet wipes. Here, help me get these blankets on to the mattress here. They’re gross, but it’s better than freezing to death.”

“You’re the boss!” Those wet wipes were a pocket-sized blessing, wrapped in foil paper. I’m more of a Chanel and gunpowder type, not so big on the earthy, barbecue scents.

I was starting to stumble a bit as we plopped the discarded blankets down as well as we could in the relative darkness of the loft.

“Probably better to stay dressed with how dirty these blankets are.” Grace frowned as she watched me struggle to pick up one of the heavier blankets a couple of times.

That didn’t even register until much later.

“OK, you, lay down. No more for you tonight. Sleep.”

I couldn’t even argue with her. I just curled up in a ball on the bed, barely aware of Grace pulling a couple of the blankets over me, but I thought I could just make out her arm resting on mine as we both drifted off into the heavy, dreamless sleep that comes when you’ve been pushed to your limits. At least, I kind of hope it was. 

================================================

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