#when the writers knew that players would have to sit through the dialogue they made it more concise

[henrikvanderhussy]

Okay, we've gotta talk about The Silent Spy. I didn't remember much about it before replaying, and you never really see anyone calling it their favorite game, so I knew it wasn't going to be great, but I was still disappointed.

Similar to The Shattered Medallion, which I talked about here, I do think there's a GOOD game in there somewhere, but it's bogged down in some really messy structural problems.

Those problems are also very similar to MED's problems, which makes sense since MED was the next release after SPY. Just like in MED, the character interactions were all over the fucking place. I felt like I had the same conversation with each character about 12 times. Asking Moria "What was the Colony operation?" I dunno Nancy, maybe you could have figured it out from the newspaper article, the archives database, the info from every other character, or the papers at the cabin. And it feels like this is something that would have been relevant way earlier in the game.

But then at the same time, there are these bizarre jumps where it seems like you've missed conversations. We're asking Ewan if we should trust Alec when we've never even talked to Ewan about Alec before and there's no reason they should know each other.

Speaking of feeling like I missed stuff, the poem was the worst. "I need the full color copy of my mom's Jabberwocky poem" Girl, what Jabberwocky poem?? Apparently it was in Nancy's luggage, but the luggage gets stolen immediately when you start the game and we have no idea what's inside of it. She briefly says something to Alec about a poem, but that was after Nancy already noted she needed it to solve a puzzle.

Also similar to MED, there was such a weird manufactured sense of urgency. I was soooo very frustrated by the tests set by Revenant. I got the first call and thought "hmm, not sure what choice I want to make. I'll poke around at some other things first and then decide if I want to follow their instructions or not." Then all of a sudden I get a call saying that I've failed their test.

How was I supposed to know there was a time limit? What was the time limit based on anyway? Was it a literal amount of real-world time? Did I trigger another plot point in the game that ended the window? Hell if I know

The result is that you're left feeling like things could end or change at any moment and you have to do them quickly, but also simultaneously feeling as if it doesn't matter since obviously the game will continue anyway if you miss anything time-sensitive.

A weird combo of both stressed and 'eh fuck it'. Thanks I hate it.

This post is getting longer than I planned, but here's the thing, I actually think these problems could have been addressed with a really simple fix: Let Nancy sleep.

If the call from Revenant says "you have until midnight to give us what we want," then the player knows that if they want to follow the instructions, they need to do it before sending Nancy to bed.

If all of that weirdness in character conversations was because I was talking to characters and doing things out of the intended order, then structure the game so that certain things need to happen before you can go to bed ("I can't sleep yet, I have to xyz!"). Then make it so other actions can't happen until the next day. VOILA, problem solved.

You still want the structure to be somewhat loose to allow the player to explore, and so not everything should be confined to specific days, but it would allow linearity in the things that do need to be linear.

Nancy has a hotel room! There's already a bed and everything! It would have been simple to put in a sleep mechanic, just like in so many of the other games.

Look, I'm not a game designer, so I'm definitely speaking more confidently than I have any right to, but I just feel like the problems in The Silent Spy are fixable! And I really wish they had been fixed!

[insertdisc5]

Devlog #3 - Musings About Text Speed

Hello everyone! Welcome to this month’s devlog! This one will be about what I did this month, and also text speed in video games.

Anyway, if you just stumbled upon this, I am Adrienne, also known as insertdisc5! I’m the developer, writer, artist, main programmer, etc of the game. The game being In Stars and Time, which is the next and final game in the START AGAIN series, following START AGAIN: a prologue (available here!).  You can find out more about In Stars and Time here!!! 

ALRIGHT LET’S GET TO IT

I've had quite the productive month, mostly because I took a one week break from my day job to chill and rest and work on the game. Which means…

Act 3-4 is more or less complete and implemented and tested!!! I say "more or less" because I'm still missing a few illustrations, and a few sidequests I'd like to add. BUT!!! The main story for those acts is complete!!! YAHOO!!!

I've also been drawing a bunch, which hasn't happened for a little bit. After months of not drawing, I hung out with a friend and we drew together, which helped me unblock myself art-wise! THANKS, FRIEND!!!!! Anyway here’s one cryptic illustration, just for you guys.

(Siffrin goes ^u^)

I’ve also been playtesting the game from beginning to (temporary) end! I haven’t done that in a while, so it was interesting to play it in its entirety and see what works, what doesn’t (and needs to be fixed), and also the parts that are broken code-wise and I need to jump into and figure out. There’s less of those than I anticipated though, so: YAHOO

I do want it on the record that while playing through I knew what was going to happen (of course I did, I wrote the damn thing), but I did get some very fun moments that made me go “oh god!!!! That’s really good!!!!!! Who wrote this!!!!” I wrote this. It’s always fun to feel surprised by your own work, and it happened a bunch, so I’m very happy!!!

And now it’s on to scripting the few things for Act 3-4 I have left, and then finally jump into scripting for the final acts, Act 5 and 6. I’ve had the base for the events written down for a very long time, as well as countless notes on “ok we GOTTA MAKE SURE that this thing happens”, so it’ll be a matter of sitting down and making sure all those notes become a cool thing. Which it will, because, come on guys (I strike a pose) it’s me.

What else, what else… Oh! Somehow I found myself wondering about text speed this month.

I’ve asked my followers on twitter what text speed they preferred in their games, (buzzfeed voice) AND THE ANSWERS WERE SURPRISING (not really)

A few random ramblings about text and dialogue in video games:

-I found it very interesting that most people set text speed to fast-but-not-instant (FBNI speed!), and that people using instant speed were relatively low. It almost made me wonder if I should just force the player to play the game at FBNI speed (kinda like how Ace Attorney forces you to use one speed), but hey. If I can add options, might as well add them. 

-I did leave instant speed in in ISAT, but it IS kind of sad to see the text appear all at once when I already made sure the text appearing would pause slightly at every comma or end of sentence (see above!) One of my gripes with instant speed is that it sometimes kills the pacing. Can you really feel the WEIGHT of a sentence if it appears all at once?!?! Thankfully, I did find out how to add very slight pauses with the instant speed! Heck yeah! Even at instant speed, you will go at MY pace, player!!!!

-Many people also love when, if your text speed isn’t instant, you can press A while the text is still appearing to make the text appear all at once! Thank god this is already a thing in RPGmaker and I don’t have to figure it out myself. What I DID figure out is how to make this NOT happen, for important moments! Again, you will go at MY pace, player!!! It’s a fun, subtle way to catch the player off guard, so I’m glad I figured it out, teehee.

-One of the reasons I was wondering about text speed is that I’m a very fast reader, and I didn’t really take that into account when I made START AGAIN: a prologue! I had a few dialogues where the text would advance to the next box on its own, without player input, mostly when a character would interrupt another or something like that. Because it’s fun and cool! Haha they interrupted this character so the text box advanced on its own! How realistic! What a good use of video game code powers!

    But here’s the thing: some players (especially streamers, who read everything aloud) did not have time to read what was on screen before it went away! And if they had the text speed on instant, the code made it so that they would get literally one frame of text before it went away! AND THAT’S NOT GOOD!!! So for ISAT, I made sure I would add text that advances automatically VERY rarely, and when I did (because, again, it’s fun and cool), I made sure the text speed would slow down significantly, and the text would stay on screen for as long as it took me to say aloud a few times. So you are welcome, slow readers everywhere. Sorry it took me so long!!!!

That’s it, that’s all for today! Let me know if you have any questions, or if there’s any aspect of the game development struggle you’d like me to talk about! See you next time!!!

AND DON’T FORGET TO WISHLIST THE GAME ON STEAM ALSO IT REALLY HELPS BECAUSE STEAM’S ALGORITHM IS MORE LIKELY TO SHOW OFF GAMES WITH A HIGH AMOUNT OF WISHLISTS THAT'S THE REASON WHY GAME DEVS ALWAYS ASK TO WISHLIST!!! OKAY BYE!!!! 

[sunlightwoo]

Going High

☀︎ pairing: sunwoo x reader

☀︎ genre: summer fling au,  fluff, some angst, theme is kinda like the one that got away type of thing?

☀︎ wc: 1.7k

☀︎ plot: summer flings are meant to be flings, nothing more than what it should’ve been known for. however you somehow found yourself reminiscing all those times that you have encountered the red headed boy that always took your breath away at the beach house you find yourself going to whenever you wanted a breather from the hard life you endured.

☀︎ a/n: before i say anything else and forget, there is a section between the breaks that is all italicized and in quotes!! that’s just a long dialogue of sunwoo’s pov of their relationship from the cassette tape. secondly: i hope that you guys liked this piece even though i feel as though it wasn’t my best HOGSJNGshuo it was really fun writing this though and would like to thank @atbzkingdom​​ for hosting the lovely collab with the other amazing writers in it!! be sure to check out everyone’s works as well in the link to the collab masterlist!!

collab masterlist | my tbz masterlist

The smell of the salty beach air fills your nose as the sun is slowly setting in the scenery in front of your eyes, your own body slightly leaning against the railing that was underneath your arms on the balcony at your beach house. You think that this might be the one place that you could call your comfort space.

Memories of being in the exact spot over the years come to mind as you reminisced all of them, wondering how long it has been since you had last been here. Was it a year? Maybe three?

You decide to head back into your room when you notice something sticking out from the floorboard that you didn’t notice earlier. Walking over towards it, you looked to see that there was a box that was visibly hidden underneath the floorboard, making you lean down to take it out from the loose wood and bring it out to your lap.

Opening it up while sitting on the floor, you noticed the various polaroids and notes that were in there along with a cassette tape that was taped against the box. You looked at it in confusion, not knowing where it had originated from or what it could’ve contained but you assumed it had once belonged to you in the past.

Getting up to play it on the cassette player that was on your desk, you carefully inserted it and plugged in your headphones before pressing play, waiting for whatever audio to appear as you flipped through the familiar polaroids. Brinks of red paint your eyes as you wonder who the red headed male in the photos with you were, your mind looking for the answers that you had needed when suddenly a deep voice interrupts you from your thoughts.

“Hey sweetheart, did you miss me?”

Your eyes widened as it finally clicked in your head who it was, hearing the evident smirk in his voice mirroring the one that you were staring at in one of the polaroids. Kim Sunwoo, better known to be your first love, as you can recall clearly from your past memories. He was the one person that happened to be your escapist from the real world after the many times you sought out this house as your getaway from your family and school.

“By the time that you’re listening to this, it must’ve been a while then since I never told you about this tape.”

He was right.

The last time that you saw him was back in 2017, which was roughly four years from how much you could remember. That was your last year of college, and you could remember all of the days that you had spent with him, endless mornings and starry nights that you stayed up for and got away from the reality that you had faced when you left him.

You wonder if he was doing well without you, knowing that you were the one that left him first.

“I don’t think I’m doing okay without you, sweetheart,” His voice vibrates from a pitied chuckle that left his chest as you could feel your heart clench in your chest at how sad his smile must’ve been while recording this.

“You were asking a lot when you told me to wait for you when you’ve finally answered my question from that night. Do you still remember it?”

“Of course I do,” You say out loud as if he were with you right now to hear your response, and you were brought back to the last memories of him that year before you left him once again.

“I hated myself for it because of how much I had hurt you, Sunwoo.”

“I remember the first time that we had met at the beach house. You thought that I was an intruder, when I had only come over to welcome you into the area knowing that the previous owners of it happened to be your distant family members.

There were tales that they used to tell me before you had arrived, different praises and stories that made you seem as though you were a cold person that only kept their nose into a book for fun. However, I think it was that first night where you had proven me wrong by being the complete opposite of what I had assumed of you.

And I think that’s when I might’ve fallen in love with you.

From all the nights that we spent stargazing, to all the times we messed around in the early mornings of sunrise by slashing water at the shorelines, to the campfires with the boys that we’d whisper our secrets to… I think I knew that I had fallen in love with you that night when we kissed under the moonlight of a full moon… until you had asked me about playing a game.

The long game, sweetheart… I think that was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard from your mouth, considering you were, ya know, the smarter one. You knew that I loved you in that moment, and I think that was the reason why you pushed me away from getting even closer to you by wanting to keep in touch with you after you leave this time around.

Was it something that I shouldn’t have done?

You haven’t been here in over a year now, and I miss you, sweetheart. Maybe I should’ve just let you go and keep whatever we had a summer fling, but I can’t help but wonder if you ever felt the same sparks that I felt every time we came close with one another.

That’s my question to you, in which I just want to know the simple answer to.

I don’t care how long it may take to get your answer, whether it be months after hearing this, or a couple years. Hell you can be married already, and I’d rather just let it be told that it was just me that had felt all the highs and the warm feelings of being free whenever we were together.

You already know where to find me, Y/N… and I’ll be waiting there whenever you figure it out on your own terms.

The moment that you hear the sound of a click of the cassette player finally stopping, you realized that your cheeks were wet as you moved your hand back up to wipe the tears away from your face. You couldn’t tell when you started to cry, but you sat in your chair while staring at the sunset that was setting outside of your balcony, thinking about the available choices that you were given in the moment that you were in.

For one part of your heart, there was the fear of him just being a fling that scared you; the fact that he was the one person that you had always relied on every summer when you came to get relief and happened to be available at the time. However, you also pondered about how much love you had felt with him, knowing that you had never been able to find someone like him in the reality of your world that had loved you the way that he did, made you feel as though you were high on cloud nine the way that he had.

Getting up from your chair almost abruptly, you grabbed your phone and made your way out to the familiar cliffs that weren’t too far away from the beach house.  The entire time that you had speed walked over to them had been filled with nervous thoughts and many ways to come up with the right words to say if he were to be there.

You weren’t even sure if he was still going to be there in the first place, cause you felt as though you had waited for too long in order to find the answer to the question.

You make it to the cliffs and get a better view of the sunset that was behind the horizons of the ocean, eyes darting across the waters when footsteps are made from behind you. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you hoped that maybe you weren’t just hearing things; if the person that was close was actually him, you weren’t sure what to say to him because of the lump that was caught in your throat.

“It took you long enough to find your answer.” You hear the person say and turn around slowly to see him once again, this time a coat of black painting his hair as it was no longer the bright red you were used to.

There’s a breath that escapes from your lips as you stare at him in a feeling that was similar to relief with the way that he stood in front of you with his hands in his jean pockets. Clad in a simple white tee like you remember seeing before in your polaroids, the small smirk that was so familiar to your heart and eyes was still painted across his lips as he raises an eyebrow at your somewhat disheveled figure.

“Am I too late?” You whisper, watching as he walks over towards you with an amused look and takes your hands into his before placing a chaste kiss on them and then on your lips slightly, making you relish in the memories of you kissing him all those years ago.

He pulls away slightly, eyes bored right into yours as the loud pounding in your chest was evident from how fast your heart was beating, and you had a feeling that he was able to feel it too. However, you were somewhat elated that he was here in front of you again, ready to hear your answer after years of waiting and you wonder if he’d still keep those same feelings just as you did for him.

“Not one second later,” He grins as he held a pinky up in front of you both with a teasing grin on his face just seconds before looping it with your own, “Are we finally done playing the long game?”

“Yeah… We’re finished playing, and my answer is that I love you too.”

[jerepars]

My QOTS 5x09 live reactions:

Oscar is in the “previously on”. Oscar x Jeresa team up?

SO MUCH Kote in the “previously on”. Whyyyyyy? We already had to sit through their episodes once, isn’t that enough?

James taking off that ski mask was somehow really hot

Is it bad if I want to skip through this suburbia Kote stuff and just get to the Jeresa team up lol

“Like the devil himself he lives in the shadows” uhhhhh that was a little…YA fiction-esque. Lol who wrote that line and are they serious.

If there were two very attractive people sitting across from me, dressed like yin and yang, promising me protection like that…I think I’d be very confused LOL

Konstantin Federov? Is Kostya like, a Russian hockey player? Did he play in Detroit with the Russian Five? I am howling.

an INSTRUMENT TO DEFEND OUR DEMOCRACY lol lol lol

again Devon leaves the room without being a blatantly obvious Jeresa shipper. Boooooooo.

suburbia suburbia why can’t we do away with ya?

what happened to don’t come out until I tell you to?! Do you understand the consequences of death or not?

oh good job just show the neighbors you guys have a fucking arsenal in your kitchen that’s not gonna be suspicious at all

“I am a soldado, I will never put my guard down” really REALLY we all know that’s not true this is how you guys got banished to Little Rock in the first place

“it was a big raccoon” Raccoons are adorable they look like little bandits leave them alone

Jeresa are sitting ~very close~!!!!

“in the DR” As in, in the Dominican Republic? Do people really say that? Sounds like I’m watching Big Brother and they’re talking about the Diary Room LOL

Wait what Teresa is doing coke right as James leaves the room? What if he forgot something and comes back??? Does he know? Has this just been accepted by him? This is never going to be addressed, is it?

Ooh, theory time. Is the coke...not coke? Is it something else and Teresa has been building up a tolerance to it so she can appear dead?

“I know you want things to go back to normal” BACK to normal? When were things normal? Why does half the episode have to be spent on these two?

“I don’t want to live like this anymore” You…you...WHAT? Why did you join a drug cartel? You BEGGED back in with them. Proved yourself. Worked too hard, isn’t that what you said? What did you think it was going to be like?

Do we, the audience, have to suffer through the garage sale, too?

HOW LONG IS THIS SCENE WHY ARE WE STILL IN SUBURBIA

Yeah snoop through your neighbor’s mail when the whole neighborhood is around THAT’S NOT SUSPICIOUS AT ALL

oh it’s his little girl’s team now we have to suffer through Pote’s redemption for his misogynist sexist comments from earlier in the season

Yo, why are we only meeting Domingo now? I like this guy. He’s fun. Plus he’s got cool piercings.

aaaaand he’s dead.

Oh, okay, not dead. But injured.

YO I LIKE DOMINGO

CHICHO HOW COULD YOU CALL POTE THIS IS NOT HOW I RAISED YOU

omg is KA going to tell Pote to go back to Teresa where he’s happy because she doesn’t want his spirit to die? If so, I think I might want to die.

I don’t need another tender Kote moment JFC MAKE IT STOP

BRICKS!!!! KISS TIME!!!!

“You wouldn’t let me do it, so why should I let you?” Dead. Dead. DEAAAADDDDD. 😭😭😭

I love you. SAME. (I still wish T had said it first)

So no conversation. Just straight to the sex? Okay. I guess we’ll roll with it.

The way he pauses to tuck her hair away from her face and looks at her all starry-eyed when she’s on top of him. Dead. Dead. Dead dead dead.

And then they SMILE. Can you be more dead than dead? I think that’s where I’m at. 👻

Sidenote: I don’t think we’ve ever seen this much of J’s tattoos up close. This is glorious. Lol yeah because there’s sex happening and I’m looking at the details of the tattoos hahaha

The hand on the thigh to end it before the camera pans and then fade to black. That’s great. I will accept it.

She’s touching his arm in the morning after scene. There is SUNLIGHT. This is the best lit Jeresa scene of this show’s existence, lol. Holy shit.

When does she tell him she loves him? This is obviously setting us up for a goodbye.

LOLOLOLOL James is talking about weapons and making sure she’s well equipped and she’s giving him heart eyes instead sooo is she about to say it?

SHE SAID IT!!!!!!!!!

Jeresa making out. Jeresa getting it on. Jeresa kissing after a love confession. In one episode. ❤️ 🥰 🎊 💞 💓 😘 🎇 🔥 Bask in the glory. Savor it. Let’s all enjoy this and rewatch and reblog gifs etc etc etc because it’s all we’re ever going to get. 🎁

“She’s not going in without us.” “I’ll go.” OoOoOoOo this is all part of the plan isn’t it?

But when did you have time to plan this when you spent all night making out and having sex. You must have been spent. Did you multitask in bed? 😂

Scared Puppy James :( :( :(

Wait. WAIT. This is very plot holey. Kostya didn’t know anything about Teresa’s business? He’s apparently the biggest bad-ass there is and he didn’t even vet her? He just let Oksana handle it? WHATTTTTTT

The tequila isn’t poisoned. She put something on the shot glass, probably? That’s why they had Chicho talk about how Oksana was killed at the beginning. Right?

So Kostya has been elusive all season. Fucked everything up. And he dies as soon as he meets her? WHAT. Just like that. This is so deflating.

Uhhhh, listen, I get it, Teresa is obviously gonna make it out of here. But why have Kostya’s guys not shot her in the head yet? This is very unrealistic. They wouldn’t hesitate. She would be on the ground in a second.

WHAT. NO. WHY IS POTE HERE. GO AWAY. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STEP UP, CHICHO.

I wish Pote had died. A final sacrifice for his family. That would have been his redemption. And I’m not apologizing for anything I just said. Full offense. Not sorry.

“You had enough on your plate.” Are you KIDDING ME? Yo WHO THE FUCK DOES CHICHO THINK HE IS? Making decisions for the boss? That’s not…that wouldn’t happen, helpful or not. Teresa would kill HIM. Know your place. Wow how nice of the writers to screw Chicho up.

“I’m only legit until Devon decides I’m not” So…okay. Jeresa have definitely talked about Devon and made the sniper plan now, right? If she’s saying this?

“Can you shut down operations in New Orleans and meet us when you’re done?” “Of course.” That’s the goodbye, isn’t it? We’re still on track for the sniper plan?

“When everything’s settled I’ll send for you.” Uh. Maybe KA is safer in Little Rock. But you’re gonna leave her out in the wind for an indefinite amount of time? OKAY.

“He may not be as nice” LOL

Omg this is like the most continuous dialogue James has had all season and it’s wasted on DEVON

Personally not a fan of this very predictable James-was-still-under-Devon’s-wing-the-whole-time because I think it’s lazy writing. Very lazy. BUT I bet in James’ mind, he’s for sure been pretending and this whole time whenever he’s been sitting boo-boo faced in the corner moping, he’s been planning out how to tell Teresa and going over the plan of how she’s going to “die” and they’re going to disappear. So he could tell her and they could execute it perfectly when the right time presented itself. Right? And that’s all going to be shoved into like the last few minutes of the finale, isn’t it?

Ah okay so sniper James is going to shoot Teresa through the window to make Devon think he followed orders. They WERE multitasking in bed. 😂😂

I knew it. I fucking knew it. It’s exactly the ending to this episode we all expected.

Finale preview: soooooooo Teresa is barely in it because she’s “dead” and we have to watch Pote carry out her “wishes” for most of it until it’s safe for her to come alive again? COME ON.

[whetstonefires]

atla flashfic that got over 1k so it gets a readmore!

Pu-On woke up in the middle of the night to a cloaked, masked figure with a naked blade.

"Oh spirits," he squeaked, after a second spent realizing that it wasn't a cast member trying to be funny, and pulled the bedclothes up under his chin like that would help. "I-I'll--" He wasn't sure whether threatening to scream or offering not to was more likely to work out.

"Pu-On Tim?" the figure asked, in a hushed voice that made it hard to tell anything about it except that it wasn't a bass-baritone and it was probably from around Caldera City, or trying to sound that way, which a lot of people did. "Staff scriptmaster with the Ember Island Players? Writer of the play 'The Boy In The Iceburg?'"

"Y...yes?" He hoped that was the right answer. Trying to lie about it didn't seem wise, considering they'd already found his bedroom.

"We're here on behalf of the Fire Lord."

The 'we' made Pu-On take his eyes off the figure at his bedside and realize there was another masked, cloaked figure lurking behind them. Oh, spirits.

"Listen, he wasn't written like that in the previous draft!" he blurted. "I know what you probably heard about the performance version, but that was just a matter of political exigency! I have nothing against Fire Lord Zuko!”

This was a slight exaggeration.

Zuko had figured in the earliest stage of the script as a quixotic, mildly absurd sympathetic figure, only to have to be rewritten with a character arc leading him toward betrayal after the great Tragedy of the North, and then rewritten again as the main hero of the piece, after he redeemed himself at Ba Sing Se.

Then not two weeks from opening night, on the Day of Black Sun, he'd turned on his father and joined forces with the Avatar, and Pu-On had had to hurriedly dig through his old drafts to restore less flattering dialogue, to spare himself having to fully rewrite all Zuko's scenes again. Shun had barely slept for three days getting the rewritten part down. Pu-On had begun to feel personally martyred by Prince Zuko of the ever-changing allegiances.

He might have made him a little more ridiculous than he’d had to, out of aggravation, but mostly in hopes of managing to get a watchable play in the end. A work focusing so much on enemies of the state had had to be the broadest of comedy to begin with, and making the brooding Zuko character fit into that on short notice hadn’t been easy.

And then Sozin's Comet had come, and they had a new Fire Lord.

He'd be lying if he said the possibility of reprisal hadn't crossed his mind, but the new Fire Lord had by and large shown considerable restraint about actions performed under his father's regime, even when he didn't like them. On the other hand, none of that had been personal.

"It was just a matter of political exigency," he wheedled the two masked agents in his bedroom. "The Fire Lord knows his father's laws, whatever I write has always had to conform with national policy."

"Lord Zuko knows," said the agent standing further back. "We're just here to ask you a few questions."

It was more than a few. The questions started on the subect of his loyalties and political opinions, quick darting things trading off quickly from one interrogator to the next, clearly designed to push him past the usual mealy platitudes and into sincerity. Pu-On has always been careful not to have too many sincere political opinions, since they tend to seep into your work and that's how you get dragged off to the coal and sulfur mines, but they wring a surprising amount out of him.

Then without his quite catching the instant of transition they were asking him about the research he did for 'The Boy In The Iceburg,' the various sources he listed as part of the script and how he tracked them down and what he did to get accounts from them, as well as which of a long list of inaccuracies in his script were intentional rhetorical devices and which the result of bad or no information on his part.

Toph the Earthbender's height and gender were bad information he recognized as such by comparison to other sources and used anyway; the mechanism behind her blindsight was pure supposition based on a text about bats. The agents were taking notes now. He found himself flattered, even though he knew this was unwise of him.

Pu-On had always been enthusiastic about his research process. He would have liked to go to university in his youth, if it were achievable for someone from his station of life, and he'd cribbed what academic tricks he could to bolster the story-collecting he'd started as a child haunting wineshops with a notebook of his own.

So he almost forgot to be frightened at some point in this stage of the discussion, sitting fully upright in bed with the bedclothes pooled into his lap and gesticulating for emphasis. “Prince Zuko’s hair!” he said. “Oh, that was a dramatic saga in the version that had to be scrapped last, the information I’d put together on his movements after the Siege of the North showed he was growing it out for the first time since he was thirteen, after obviously cutting his phoenix tail to go into hiding. The…well, anyway, we had to make all new wigs for the actual performances.”

He remembered himself suddenly, clutching the edge of the blanket again. “I didn’t mean any harm,” he added. “Please, tell the Fire Lord…would he like another rewrite? I’d be happy to—” He wouldn’t, he tore that play apart and cobbled it back together again so many times he’d prefer never to look at it again in his life.

In a few years he might go back over his notes and write something entirely new, but he was going to wait for the dust to settle first. Fire Lord Zuko had disrupted his work with dramatic upheavals enough times already. If only current events weren’t so irresistibly exciting; history was so much more accommodating.

(Although even history was currently being heavily rewritten. School curricula were among the many things the new Fire Lord was overturning.)

“Maybe he would,” said the agent in the middle of the room. “You can ask him yourself.”

“I can?”

The agent beside his bed nodded, stuck their knife into what must be a hidden sheath at their hip (note: find out how that’s done, the effects crew would love a new technique for fake stabbings) and reached up to take their mask off.

Revealing a round-faced girl with grey eyes, currently grinning widely at him. “Hi! I’m Ty Lee, and you’re invited to join His Majesty’s intelligence service!”

[labyrinth-runner]

Green or Blue

The Greatest Thing Chapter 8

Moulin Rouge Fanfic

Christian x OC

Words: 3k

Weeks turned to months and Christian felt himself becoming more and more familiar with Paris. When he first arrived, he would dance awkwardly to the rhythm of the night, and now his movements were fluid and second nature. His time was spent mostly writing or rehearsing, with the play slowly taking over his life. Getting to know Satine more and more, he grew to admire her, falling in love with the contrast that she represented. But, he knew they could never truly belong to each other. She was to be the Duke's, and he... well, he was beginning to wonder if his heart was truly his to give or if it still belonged to another. He thought of Estelle in fleeting moments, finding that the more he wallowed, the more disillusioned with this life he would become. Crumpled up papers littered his floor, the remnants of letters he destroyed before sending. None of them would be enough to undo the hurt he had undoubtedly caused her. He just hoped that she was happy wherever she was, and that she was being treated like the wonderful creature she was.

Words seemed to fail him every now and then as of late. He was stuck, unable to get past this one part in his draft where the penniless sitar player won over the courtesan. After spending hours with Satine trying to come up with a dialogue that felt natural, he'd gone home frustrated. He ran his hand through his hair as he fell back on his bed. The fact that the scene was later in the play comforted him, since he would have time to finish it, but he was still frustrated. He used to be able to wax on about love for hours, but lately he just found himself going through the motions. He could write treatises on freedom, beauty, and truth... but love? He was struggling. It vexed him even more that he couldn't write on the one topic he valued the most. His eyes fell over on the forgotten manuscript he had started when he first arrived in Paris. It had been left untouched for weeks, sitting there on the table and mocking him. His greatest love story, a story about falling in love while falling out of society, didn't have an ending. In truth, he didn't know how to end it, and thinking about how to end it was like a slap in the face. He could end it with the lovers growing apart, like some of the disillusioned literature of the time, but he wanted to give it a happy ending, but he also wanted that ending to be truthful. He sighed loudly. He could have a happy ending. Satine had offered him that happiness, and he could always go back to London if he was desperate enough. However, would he really be happy in either of those places? With Satine, he would never fully have her be his, and as much as he'd like to think he could handle that, deep down he knew it would tear him apart. In London, he'd grow bitter with society. Christian groaned.

"Is your play not going well?" a voice asked through the hole in his ceiling.

Christian looked up to find his short Parisian artist peering down at him.

"Toulouse, do you ever wonder if you made the right choice?" Christian asked.

Toulouse grimaced. "I feel like it's too early to be discussing what ifs. I think that if you've made a choice, then something told you it was the right thing to do in that moment."

Christian nodded. "And if you end up feeling miserable about it later?"

"Then you go upstairs to your neighbor's apartment and let him cheer you up," Toulouse grinned.

Christian smirked and shook his head. "I suppose I could use a distraction."

"Très bien," Toulouse winked before disappearing back into his apartment.

Christian went up the stairs and into the space, finding Toulouse staring intently at a canvas as he compared it to the woman in front of him.

"Christian, have you ever met Mademoiselle Avril?" Toulouse asked, gesturing to the woman.

"No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Although, I have seen you dance, Mademoiselle. You are quite good," he smiled.

"Call me Jane," she chuckled. "And, merci, Monsieur. They don't call me La Mélinite for nothing."

"Am I interrupting?" Christian asked.

"Not at all," Toulouse replied. "Besides, perhaps Jane can help with whatever is making you sigh so loud."

"I doubt that," Christian said with a sad smile.

"Try me," Jane challenged.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm not from here. I'm originally from London. I left a few months ago after being disowned by my father for wanting to join the Bohemian movement and be a writer," Christian told her.

"You're the one writing the play they're putting on at the Moulin, aren't you? It seems like you've achieved your goal," she replied.

"Yes and no," Christian sighed. "You see, I want to write about love, but I can't."

"Have you experienced love?" Jane asked.

"That's what I asked when he first got here!" Toulouse chuckled.

"I have," Christian said adamantly.

"Did she not love you back?" Jane followed up.

"I... I don't know," Christian admitted.

"You didn't ask her?" Jane asked incredulously.

"Well, I never really told her that I loved her either," Christian replied.

"Toulouse, you might have warned me that your friend is an idiot," Jane teased.

"He's friends with me, Jane, I thought it was implied," Toulouse winked.

Jane shook her head. "Men. Scoundrels of the Earth."

"Not intentionally," Christian reassured her.

"Oh, I know, some of you are not intentionally," she winked. "That doesn't change the fact that you are, though. However, if you never knew for certain that it was love, then perhaps that's why you can't write it. Deep down, you feel like a fraud. Or, maybe you just can't stand giving happiness to your characters when you denied it for yourself."

"That's silly," Christian replied.

"Hey, I'm not Freud, I'm just a woman who is trying to help you," she shrugged. "Have you spoken to her since you left?"

"No," Christian admitted.

"Thought about her?" Toulouse asked.

"Yes," Christian sighed. "When life gets quiet, she creeps in. Sometimes I'll see or do something and I'll think about how she might have enjoyed that. Sometimes I feel guilty when I'm with Satine, but then I have to remember that she could be with someone else. I'll write things and I'll realize they're conversations that she and I have had."

"You miss her," Jane commented sadly.

"I do."

"Do you still love her?" Toulouse asked as he swapped out to a new canvas.

"I... I don't know. I love what I remember, but she could be different now. I know I'm different now. She could hate me for leaving. She could have just been humoring me when I was there, and now she could be with someone who's better for her," Christian replied.

"Describe her," Toulouse smirked.

"What do you want to know?" Christian asked, sitting down on a backwards chair, resting his chin on the back.

"Everything. What does she look like? What does she think like?" Jane smiled, sitting down next to Toulouse.

"Well, she's my star. Her name is Estelle, but I've called her Ellie since we were kids," Christian smiled wistfully, "She's always been very headstrong, but she wants to do the right thing and sometimes that will outweigh her own wants. Her hair is dark, like roasted chestnuts in the winter. She usually has it pulled back out of her face these days, but back when we were younger, she always left it free so that she could feel the wind in her hair. It was quite funny, because she has these curls, and when she would run, they would bounce like a spring, always hitting her in the face. Perhaps that's why she has it pulled back now, so that it doesn't assault her face. She's pale, but not in a sickly way. It's almost as if the moon glows from within her skin. Her face fits perfectly in your hands when you hold it. Her lips are rosy, and her cheeks sometimes turn the color of a tomato if you say the right thing. She's not easy to ruffle these days, I think that comes mostly from having to grow up a little too soon after her mother died. However, when we were children she was quite easy to fluster," he grinned.

"So, she's a childhood friend of yours?" Jane asked.

"Yes, but we were out of touch for years. We only recently reconnected during the London social season," Christian explained.

"Is that when you fell in love with her?" Toulouse asked.

"I think a part of me has always admired her, but it didn't deepen until now. Prior to the season, the last time I had seen her, she seemed so small," he explained, brow furrowing. "Her mother had just started to become ill. Her mother would have headaches now and then, but they were starting to get more and more frequent and strong enough to keep her in bed. I suppose that was the beginning of the decline for her mother. She died a year and a half later."

A sad smile settled on his face as he remembered when she told him about it.

He'd been looking for her so that they could go on another adventure into the nature behind their estates, but she wasn't home. He checked around their usual hiding spots until he spotted her sitting on the bank of the river, holding her knees to her chest. As he got closer, he could hear her sniffling.

"Ellie?" he asked softly. "Are you alright?"

Estelle jumped and quickly rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine."

Christian frowned, settling down next to her. "You're crying."

"No, I'm not," she sniffed.

"Ellie, what's wrong? You know you can tell me anything," he said in concern, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's my mother," she sighed. "Her headaches are getting worse. The doctor doesn't know why she keeps getting them. Dad said she has good days and bad days, but she's not... she's not the same even on those good days."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"She's tired easily. She used to love music, but now she's irritable at loud noises," Ellie explained. She turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Christian, I'm scared. I don't know what's happening to my mother."

"I'm sure the doctor will be able to help her," Christian reassured her, but he knew that wasn't always the case. "I'm here for you, Ellie. No matter what. I promise."

Estelle nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You're a good friend, Christian."

"And her eyes?" Toulouse asked.

"Hmm?" Christian asked, coming out of it.

"You didn't describe her eyes," Toulouse repeated.

"Well her eyes are..." he trailed off. He tried to picture her, but for some reason he couldn't see her eye color in his mind's eye. "They're... they're either green or they're blue."

"You can't remember?"

"I think I've forgotten," Christian said softly. "But, they are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen. She's got a quiet strength in them. A resolve. I just hope that resolve never turns into resignation."

Toulouse smiled and moved his hands across the canvas.

"What was it like seeing her again?" Jane asked, noticing that Christian's demeanor had become solemn.

Christian perked up at the question. "It was... well... I had a few feelings in that moment. First of all, I saw her before she had first seen me," he chuckled. "I had introduced myself to this one woman who turned out to be Ellie's best friend. A dumb stroke of luck on my part. I only introduced myself to Ms. Renton because the bow on her dress had come untied and I didn't want her to trip. Then, we started talking, and I looked over her shoulder and saw my Ellie with the Queen. Part of me felt like returning home after being on a long trip away, wondering how things would have changed while I was gone. Another part of me was feeling a rush of nerves, because I wasn't sure that she'd recognize me, and if she didn't, then would she remember me? Then, the last part of me felt like I was being visited by some celestial creature. Watching her walk across the ballroom, I saw the spark in her eyes and I knew she remembered me."

"What was she wearing?" Toulouse asked.

"A green dress, embroidered with flowers. It was fitting, really," he said with an amused smirk.

"How so?" Jane asked curiously.

"You see, later that night we discussed how women were like flowers," Christian smiled dreamily at the memory. "She always did have a way with words and metaphors."

"Even more so than you?" Toulouse asked.

"We had the same tutor for a while growing up," Christian explained. "She always did get better marks than I did in English. She was especially fond of poetry."

"Have you ever written her a poem?"

"No. I haven't. I don't think I could capture all those feelings into one poem. It would take a novel to tell her how I felt," he sighed.

Toulouse finished what he was painting and leaned back. "Then, write her a novel, Christian."

"I've tried. I've gotten thoroughly stuck with the ending," he explained.

"Write the truth," Toulouse replied.

"That's the problem, I've run out of truth to write," Christian groaned.

"Then your story isn't over, either," Toulouse winked.

"She's in London," Christian sighed, "I'm here. That's as over as it could get."

Toulouse shook his head and got off his stool. He took his painting and turned it to show Christian. It was a portrait of Estelle based off the descriptions that Christian had been able to provide. "Physically, she may be in London, mon ami, but we both know the place she truly resides is right here," he said, tapping Christian's chest.

"Toulouse," Christian said softly, taking the painting from him. His eyes scanned over the picture. Toulouse had taken a gamble and painted blue eyes.

"Blue. They definitely are blue," Christian murmured, seeing her almost as if she were actually there. He turned to his friend and frowned, "I don't have anything to pay you with."

"Consider it a thank you for your friendship," Toulouse waved him off. "Most people would have fixed the hole by now. But, I appreciate you not forcing me to. It leaves more funds for art supplies."

Christian grinned and shook his head. "I'll go hang it up."

"Perhaps you should write home while you're at it?" Jane asked, getting up to leave. "I have to get back to the Moulin, but I'll see you two later."

Christian walked out with her and returned to his own apartment. Surveying the walls, he finally found a place to put it, sitting down on his couch to admire it. Perhaps Toulouse was right. Perhaps their story wasn't over yet. One could only hope. His gaze fell over to his typewriter and he sighed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he quickly typed up a letter to William. Then, he put it in an envelope and dropped it in the mail on his way to the Moulin Rouge for rehearsal.

As he walked into the space, Satine sidled up to him. "You seem different tonight."

"I've had a lot on my mind," he smiled.

"I see. Well, if you want, I can help clear your mind and make it go blank for a bit," she winked.

He blushed, coughing slightly to recover. "T-that's... I-I mean..."

"Alright, people, I want you all to get to work, this is my money you're wasting," The Duke huffed as he strode into the building, dropping his coat and hat into Christian's arms.

"My dear," the Duke smiled at Satine, offering her his arm.

Satine plastered her smile on and took it, but she turned to Christian and pointedly told him, "Think about it."

The Duke led her away and Christian let out a shaky breath. Rehearsal started and he went to work on the script. However, his mind went places, thinking about what Satine had said, but the Satine in his head quickly morphed into Estelle. He blushed even darker, a bit ashamed of thinking about her like that. Christian turned his attention back to rehearsal, forgetting about the script and getting lost in his previous words being spoken aloud. The first few scenes were good, and they were working on blocking it all in between dance numbers. Slowly though, people started to trickle away to get ready for that night's entertainment until it was only Christian left in the space. His mind replayed the penniless sitar player meeting the courtesan. He wondered what it might be like to meet Ellie again for the first time since becoming his own penniless self. Would she reject him like the courtesan does initially, or would she be happy to see him? All he knew was that should the world deign to put them together again, he would be over the moon.

[expertmakodriver]

30 Day Mass Effect Challenge: Day 5

5. Favorite character?

Surprising (hopefully) not a soul: Garry Vakary himself

(Disclaimer: I’m going to be talking about him in the context of the first two games while disregarding the third. Also, while Femshep technically is my favorite character, I already made a post about her, so I’m making this section about Garrus.)

Strap in, folks, because this is going to be a long post. 

When I first encountered Garrus, I immediately felt a connection to him since he seemed like one of the few people on the Citadel who actually gave a shit about stopping Saren. Despite being a C-Sec officer bound by red tape, he proved that he was a man of action by leaving all of the bureaucracy behind and getting some real work done with Shepard and the Normandy crew. Since turians and humans had a few remnants of tension between them as a result of the Relay 314 Incident/First Contact War, which was still somewhat recent, it was nice to see another turian, besides Nihlus, act civilly towards a human. 

Garrus was so eager to step up and take action against Saren; of course I let him aboard the Normandy. His struggle and Shepard’s struggle with politics are very similar; they both don’t like being told what to do by clueless politicians/higher-ups who try to prevent them from solving problems. This comes into play when Garrus and Shepard begin conversing more and more on the Normandy. I’ve always felt that Garrus’s interactions were a bit more profound than those of any other crew member; they don’t just talk to each other, but exchange opinions and feedback and really try to understand each other. They eventually develop a sort of mentor-protégé relationship to the point where Shepard really has a deep effect on Garrus in terms of his way of viewing the world. I had Shepard lead Garrus down the Renegade path while enforcing a few Paragon ideas (such as being cautious of the thin moral line that any Spectre walks as someone with nearly unlimited power in Citadel space), and I still do to this day.

I’ve always found it funny that Garrus is always super respectful to Shepard despite being a bit of a jerk to pretty much everyone else. Seeing him thank the commander at the end of the game for letting him in on the action and teaching him some valuable lessons was heartwarming, too. It made me kind of sad to think that he would go back to C-Sec after the war with Saren and Soverign was over, especially since he seemed to be so miserable there, but it was nice to know that he would follow Shepard’s lead and train to be a Spectre later on. 

Fast forward to Mass Effect 2, and I was so upset when The Illusive Man said that Garrus had disappeared a few months after the Normandy was destroyed. I kept wondering what had happened to him and if he would ever appear in the game again, but when I took a closer look at Archangel’s dossier and noticed the line “omni-tool expert and noted sniper” on it, I became very suspicious despite not wanting to get my hopes up.

Throughout Archangel’s recruitment mission, I kept worrying. Hearing the mercs talk about how Archangel had been cornered and put through hell for the past few days didn’t sit well with me. I think that was the one point at which I hoped that Archangel wasn’t Garrus, because I didn’t want to imagine Garrus going through all of that on his own. When I saw that Archangel had blue armor, I knew for sure it was him. Taking off his helmet and revealing his identity to Shepard made me so happy that I wasn’t at all bothered by how little I was surprised. I wasn’t entirely relieved, though, because Garrus was still in immediate danger. Seeing him so tired and damaged was rough; he was fairly different from the enthusiastic C-Sec officer that I had brought with me on every mission in the previous game. Even though he was exhausted and didn’t exactly have sufficient energy to physically display his emotion, you could tell just how happy he was to see Shepard alive and kicking. “Yeah I shot at you, Shepard. I wanted to get you moving so you could come get my ass out of here.”

When Shepard was forced to leave his side to close the shutters in the base’s lower level, I was in full panic mode. I didn’t trust Jacob or Miranda enough to leave them alone with him. Then when Garrus was nearly killed by the rocket that blew half of his face off, I literally had to pause the game and calm myself down because of how pissed I was. Of course I was distraught at the sight of his motionless body bleeding out on the ground, but I was also upset with the possibility that the game would give me a surprise reunion with my favorite character just to kill him off so quickly. I was, for the second time, overjoyed when I saw that he was alive a few moments later, but hearing him gasping for breath and choking on his own blood with Shepard, who is almost always composed and level-headed, freaking out while trying to help him was heart-wrenching. 

Then, right after I see Shepard looking very nervous and upset as Jacob explains the extent of Garrus’s injuries to her back on the Normandy, the smug bastard himself walks out of surgery and just casually waltzes up to Shepard like, “It’s only a flesh wound, I’ve had worse” and I literally thanked BioWare out loud for not killing Garrus. Shepard’s look of absolute relief and joy when she saw that he was okay was very touching, as was the fact that Garrus expresses that he’s more worried about Shepard than himself even though he nearly died a few hours ago. Garrus was so eager to fight alongside Shepard again that he put himself right to work at the Main Battery, and that really demonstrated how much trust he had in Shepard and her motives though I wish there was an option to have Shepard tell Garrus to focus on relaxing and getting some rest. Poor guy just went through hell and already wants to bury himself in calibrations. 

While Shepard and Garrus were catching up later on, Shepard was so gentle with Garrus while she asked him about his team and what he had been doing while she was gone, and I could see how broken he was by the death of his team and the betrayal of his former teammate. I felt bad for him. When he asked Shepard to help him find Sidonis a few hours of gameplay later, I knew it was because he wanted the moral support - he wanted Shepard to be there with him while he sought closure with Sidonis (regardless of how he gets it). 

Seeing Shepard and Garrus so synchronized while they tracked down Harkin and obtained information about Sidonis was great. They seem more like partners than mentor and student, and that was exactly what the writers were going for. 

When it came to allowing or preventing Sidonis’s death, I let Garrus shoot him, and I continue to do so during every playthrough. There are three main reasons for this, the first being that I felt that Shepard shouldn’t be involved in the situation as both a separate party and a non-turian. Turians have their own culture and deal with responsibility and leadership a bit differently than humans do; they pride themselves on taking ownership over their choices and putting the safety and interests of the whole before the individual. Sidonis broke both of these cardinal rules. Garrus, as both a turian and the leader of the group who Sidonis had betrayed, felt obligated to serve justice to Sidonis, another turian, and that is inherently something that Shepard cannot fully understand as a human. It wouldn’t feel right to let Shepard deny Garrus the right to deal with Sidonis in the way that he saw fit.

The second reason is that Sidonis was more than just a coward; he had the opportunity to warn Garrus of the trap set by the mercs for his squad, but he didn’t. Garrus says that he learned through some old contacts that Sidonis “booked transport off of Omega just before the attack” and disappeared. He didn’t even try to make things right with Garrus by confronting him afterwards and apologizing. This is why I’m not bothered by Garrus wanting to kill Sidonis. If I felt that Garrus was being too destructive or going too far, I would have had Shepard steer him back in the right direction. He kept himself in check well enough (like when he didn’t kill Harkin). 

And finally, the third reason: If Shepard came back to the Normandy one day and found that everyone - Garrus, Joker, Mordin, Tali, etc - had been slowly and painfully killed by an enemy group because, say, Jacob had been captured and sold Shepard out (and didn’t even try to warn Shepard or stop the attack), you know damn well that most, if not all, players would bring the fury of hell onto him. 

Now for the juicy part: Garrus’s romance. When I was innocently exploring Garrus’s dialogue options after his loyalty mission and stumbled across the “We could ease stress together” line, I lost my freaking mind. The game is going to let Shepard sleep with Garrus? Is this for real? I didn’t immediately realize that “easing tension” would turn into “making love and wordlessly declaring mutual feelings for each other”, so I was a little disappointed at first, but I was willing to take what I could get. Garrus was so flustered by Shepard’s proposition, to the point where he seems like he wasn’t expecting her to be interested in him at all, and seeing badass vigilante, merc leader, and hero of Omega turn into a shy softy around her was cute. 

Through further dialogue, Garrus began to hint that he had feelings for Shepard, and ugh it was so endearing. He made subtle remarks about wanting more than just “blowing off steam” with her without making his feelings obvious, probably because he didn’t want to chase her away with his heart, and when I combined this with the fact that despite these feelings, which he has had for who knows how long now (maybe even the first game?), he isn’t the one to make the first move, I realized that Garrus was probably too afraid of approaching Shepard with any sort of interest that he had in her because he didn’t want to be rejected and/or feared ruining their relationship. That was the final straw for me: I was super attached to his character at this point. The little dork wanted to watch porn to learn how to properly satisfy a human woman and thought that playing shitty club music was a good idea. The nerd. The doofus. I love him.

I’m just going to admit it: the first time I saw his romance scene with Shepard right before the Omega 4 Relay, I went from laughing as he awkwardly played techno music and tried to woo Shep with his bad flirting skills to tearing up as he confessed to her that he wanted their time together to be special and that he wanted to do things right. Notice how this is different from something he said previously about how if their romantic rendezvous goes south due to species incompatibility, fighting the Collectors would be “a welcome distraction” and wouldn’t be a big deal. Oh, no. It would be a big deal. Garrus wants to give Shepard the best final moment of peace he can before they take on the Collector base, and when Shepard shut him up and they touched foreheads (which I suppose is like the turian equivalent of a kiss given that turians don’t have lips to kiss with) I just lost my mind. I cried and I’m not ashamed to say it. It takes a lot to make me cry, since I’m not easily moved, but seeing Garrus and Shepard so happy in such a tender moment was too much for me. My two favorite characters enjoying peace and joy that they deserve. Beautiful. 

The suicide mission - I have all my upgrades, all loyalty missions complete, and I’m still freaking out about who is going to die and who is going to survive. I made the right choices in terms of who I assigned to what, but even with Garrus at Shepard’s side the whole time, I was again in full panic mode. I had like three separate heart attacks thinking that Garrus was about to be killed. I was literally shouting in horror as this happened: 

Everything worked out in the end, though. The whole crew survived, the base was destroyed, and Shepard got to snuggle with Garrus in her cabin afterwards. I was very, very happy.

So yeah, Garrus having such a profound character and being not just a likable badass but also Shepard’s most loyal companion is why I love him so much. Evidently, this is also why he’s one of the most, if not the most, popular characters from Mass Effect. Archangel owns all of our asses.

[hippychick006]

14.19 - Jack in the Box Recap

I mean I absolutely loved this episode, one of my favourites, if not the best episode ever written.

But enough about The Benders… this recap/review is on 14.19, Jack in the Box. Predictions have been coming in ever since the episode title was released that Jack was going to end up in the box that Dean built for himself way back in the season.  I was hoping we weren’t going to go that literal, but no, the episode ultimately does exactly what it says on the title.

Some excellent scenes, but as is usual with me, a lot of things that irk so scroll on by to the next post if you want to avoid negativity, particularly note the tags.

This one was a mixed bag, I’m not too sure how I feel yet about the episode as a whole.  It’s not a love love love, but it’s not a clunker either.  That aside, there’s no denying there were several stand out scenes that, regardless of who did what to whom, made for some pretty awesome television between the actors, all of whom brought their A game.  2 scenes in particular between Sam and Dean and 1 between Dean, Sam and Jack.  A lot of the other scenes were actually okay, and they packed a surprising amount into this episode that didn’t leave me with whiplash for once - which Buck-Leming episodes have a tendency to do.

Most of my negativity on this one is on the opening couple of scenes, but my mood does get better as the post goes on... I think.

I don’t know if anyone else notice the opening montages, but Sam and Dean are barely in this one.  This is the penultimate episode and your number 1 and 2 on the call sheet got a scant few seconds of recap.  It was all Castiel, Jack, Nick and the angels. We don’t even get a shot of Sam’s face at Mary’s replicant burning, just Dean. For me, it’s just a reflection of the issues I’ve been having with this season in particular; if the recap for the penultimate episode doesn’t have much of your leads in it, then that to me is a problem for your writing. JMHO.  Others can and do disagree, no biggie.

We open on what appears to be a wake for Mary. Complete and total strangers they’ve pulled off the streets of Vancouver to stand around looking sadly at personal objects of Mary’s on the map table.  I think once again I’m supposed to be sad, and I am, seriously, I’m in mourning for my show. I’m in mourning because this scene if they’d written the character and story correctly and hadn’t cheapened death, should have been sad and it just… isn’t.  kicks my stuck record player and moves on.  

Mary’s three sons – Sam, Dean and Castiel – and I can’t with this god damn fan fiction pandering shit – come out from the library and Dean speaks to the strangers.  “We know that her family were beyond just us.” (Family mention right out the gate, fantastic, I’m always worried they won’t fit in enough family references throughout the episode). Thankfully, for the safety of my television 28 floors up, Dean points to just Sam when he says, “just us.”  But I need someone else’s input, but was this line a dig?  I feel that it’s a dig, and given the writers and showrunners, I wouldn’t put it past them to get snarky because a lot of us haven’t liked the “found family” bullshit they’ve tried to force and haven’t been quiet about it.

I know I’m not meant to, but I can’t help laughing my way through this scene, particularly when Dean describes Mary as someone who was “tough, strong… stubborn as hell” (which she is, that’s not the problem), but it’s the fact that raises a chuckle from the complete strangers who all nod and go “yes, that was her!” Sam’s just nodding his way through this (like the Churchill bulldog in a British TV ad for insurance), but we do get the camera moving to him at one point so they’ve remembered he’s one of her sons, even though they didn’t show him the same way as Dean in the montage earlier… (sometimes I’m just a bitter Sam fan, ignore me and move on)

They raise a toast to mom and say goodbye.  

Just as they are finishing, one of the strangers gets hit with an axe to the head. All the hunters immediately rush into action, running for weapons and preparing to deal with whatever just did it because they are hunters, that’s how hunters react when under attack.

I wish, but no, they all just stand around not really doing much of anything, other than looking clueless, until fake!Bobby walks in and smiles at them.  

Turns out to be a wraith from a nest that Bobby and Mary took out on their last hunt.  Okay, I’m going to go ahead and allow that Sam and Dean are far too grief stricken to apply tests to people, so they just allow everyone to walk straight into the bunker (test for a wraith by the way would be a mirror).  I’m also going to presume they all knew the “hunter” wasn’t from the AU, but everyone just though he was Random!hunters plus 1 so didn’t think to ask who the hell he was.  

Fake!Bobby asks how Sam is.  He answers that it’s tough. Fake!Bobby asks “And the other one" nodding his head at Dean.  Sam responds, “Dean… he seems to doing okay, hard to say.”   Fake!Bobby: “Yeah, maybe he’s like me, being teary in public is not my style.” I think this line is to remind us that Fake!Bobby isn’t our Bobby and he really doesn’t know them at all. Worth noting that Castiel doesn’t get asked how he feels so make of that what you will.

Dean’s packing up the personal effects into a box, Sam tells him most everyone else is heading out, he suggests they open the bottle of scotch Ketch left, hang around and talk about mom.  Dean: “Talk about mom? Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” He leaves the room, leaving Fake!Bobby, Castiel and Sam just standing there.

Sastiel are in the kitchen looking at a picture of Mary, when Fake!Bobby joins them, bringing a beer for Sam.  Fake!Bobby asks Sam what happened to Mary because he’s hearing “the kid…” He doesn’t finish because Dean walks in. Castiel’s still trying to get back in Dean’s good books and asks if he needs anything.  Dean says that yeah, he needs a drink.  Fake!Bobby tells him the bar's open and points to the fridge.  Dean says no, he’s going to go out for a while.  

Sam says they need to talk about Jack (which is 100% Sam because he never allows himself to grieve, he locks it up and focuses on the problem at hand, he did the same with Jessica, their dad and now again with their mom). He’s as dysfunctional as Dean is when it comes to facing his grief.  But I think Sam is also more accepting of her death than Dean, because he knows she’s in a happy place (which he believed for Jessica and their dad due to his faith, but at the time of their deaths, he didn’t know for sure), so I think he’s sad, yes, but I don’t know that he thinks it’s altogether bad that she’s with their dad and no longer having to hunt, whereas I think Dean’s coming from his perspective, he’s lost his mother all over again.

Dean says, “we will” (talk about Jack later) and then walks out.  Sam’s not overly happy about it, but he knows his brother and he’s learned that this is the way Dean deals with grief and he doesn’t go running after him.

As soon as Dean leaves, Fake!Bobby turns to Sam and says, “About that, I liked the kid, we fought together, but there’s only one way this ends.”

Castiel: Bobby’s right, we have to find Jack and help him.

Oh Castiel, I really don’t think that’s what Fake!Bobby meant.

Sure enough, Fake!Bobby’s face when he looks at Castiel could turn him to stone, “What? That kid, he killed Mary.”

Castiel: I know that…

Fake!Bobby: Don’t say but…

Castiel: But…he, Jack may not even realise that what he did was wrong

Fake!Bobby: If his human side is gone, you know what’s left… Lucifer.  Now if you boys want to sit around and talk, fine, but me, I’m going to get on the horn to some of my people and go find that boy.

Castiel: And what then?

Fake!Bobby: An unstoppable monster, who don’t know right from wrong, gets put down, or the closest we can get to it, and anybody who don’t know that, needs to go back to school

I’ve put this whole dialogue in to point out that Sam says nothing during that entire scene.  He was window dressing. They wrote an entire scene for side character fake!Bobby and side character Castiel with Sam in it, so anyone, anyone at all that says we don’t get better writing for J2 because “J2 want time off…” I’ll be slapping this scene down every single time because Jared was there, he just wasn’t being used.  

Jack looks to be in an abandoned warehouse.  He’s flashing back to killing Mary. He says, “I wish you were here… mom” and I think some people (those watching the fan fiction version of the episode) are interpreting that as Mary, but it’s Kelly he’s calling for. He knows who his mother is. He asks her to tell him what to do.

Hallucifer appears saying the usual stuff; that the Winchesters don’t care about him.  He’s nothing to them, just a little pet monster.  Jack responds that no, they’ll understand, “I’ll explain to them, it was an accident, and I tried to bring her back, and… they’ve made mistakes too…” Hallucifer tells Jack they hate him and Jack’s all he’s got, and him.

We switch to night and see the impala is parked and the music in this scene would be best utilised in a b movie horror flick. Oh wait…

It’s really dark, but I eventually see Dean and he’s crying out in the middle of nowhere and yes this is sad, and yes Jensen is great, but I’d love the scene a lot more if it hadn’t become forced over the last couple of seasons.  It’s just “oh, it’s that time of the season where Dean cries.” Okay then.  And as I’ve said, this isn’t on Jensen at all, but these scenes are just no longer organic for me personally - great if you still enjoy them. 

We’re in heaven, I hate heaven.  I hate how corporate it is. The same with Hell. Actually the same with wherever Death lives too.  They’ve turned all these places into corporations. Duma hands a file to a minion and Cass appears.  He wants to see Naomi and Duma tells him once again that she is unavailable. Cass presses why, Duma tells him Naomi’s been demoted and is in a tiny cell, Duma’s currently in charge. Castiel tells her he needed Naomi’s help in finding an archangel. Zzzzzzzz

Duma says that there’s none left.  Castiel tells her about the problem with Jack and that he has grown “massively powerful… dangerously so”.  

Why would you tell the angels that?  Weren’t they after Jack’s powers at one point to sort out heaven?  Even without that, when have the angels ever done anything that can be trusted, Castiel?

Castiel tells her that Jack’s burned through his soul and is on the run from the Winchesters, fearing their fury, but he thinks Jack can be salvaged and “rehabilitated with patient moulding and guidance.”  

Duma says she’ll see what she can do.  Me: Yeah, I bet you will.

Sam’s on his laptop when Dean returns.   He asks Dean how he’s feeling, which Dean ignores to ask Sam what he’s working on. Sam says he’s trying to find Jack and that they need to find him, “before Bobby and his crew because if they find him first…”  Dean: “He’s going to kill them all.”  Sam says he doesn’t know. Then with no lead in, to what they were just talking about, Sam randomly says that he can’t stop thinking about mom.

Sam: I can’t stop thinking that… most people, it’s, it’s, it’s… hope and faith, right?  That’s all they have, but we know the truth, we know God is real, we know Angels are real, too…”

Dean: God writes paperback books in his underwear, okay… and angels are dicks.”

Sam: But, they’re real, right… we know that mom’s not sitting on a cloud, playing a harp, she’s in a good place, she’s in a great place, she’s with dad…”

Dean nods, and responds, “You know what else, there wasn’t even enough of her left to even try to bring her back.”

I think some people had a problem with this promo clip, and I did too when I saw it.  The conversation doesn’t seem to connect.  It could possibly have been written better, but I don’t think it’s supposed to connect.  Sam brings up mom, because he wants Dean to understand that even though she’s dead, they know she’s happy, that her being dead and with their dad isn’t the worst thing.  I believe it’s the start of Sam’s campaign on trying to get Dean to rethink about Jack. Sam - though he’s not coming right out and saying it (because he knows his brother) - is still Team Save Jack (with Castiel). Dean on the other hand is reminding Sam, that what Jack did was so terrible, that there was nothing that could be brought back and there’s no coming back from that.  So he knows what Sam is doing and he’s making it clear he’s no longer Team Save Jack.  That’s just my thoughts on this scene, because otherwise, yeah, I’ve got nothing.

Back with Jack, and Duma has found him.  Jack asks how she found him, but the writers don’t want to bother to explain the unexplainable, so Duma ignores it, and tells Jack exactly what he wants to hear, “It wasn’t your fault… it was a mistake. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve redemption.  I know, heaven knows, your mother knows that you have a glorious destiny.”

Puppy!Jack: I do?

Duma: You couldn’t save Mary Winchester, but you can save so many others, even heaven itself. You could make the world so much better.  And think how happy that would make Sam and Dean.

Oh you complete bit... 

Jack visits the office of a Dr Tate, who seems to write books on “the hidden agenda of religion.” and “imagine there is no heaven.” I quietly sing “above us only sky…” as Dr Tate asks (without looking up), “You’ve come about the leak in my bathroom?”   We switch back to Jack, and Duma has appeared suddenly beside him, and can I just say, Duma has to the be the quietest angel ever, not a single flap of wings to announce her presence, very similar to my other favourite angel Zachariah.  

She says “hardly.” (to the question about the leak).  She has a conversation with Dr Tate about his beliefs, which don’t seem to match with Heavens - in that he doesn’t believe in Heaven.  Duma tells him, “in more civilised times that was called heresy, and those ideas were an affront to heaven.”  

Dr Tate: If there were a heaven.

Puppy!Jack (enthusiastically): Oh… there is, I’ve been there.

Dr Tate: I see!  And I suppose you saw god?

Puppy!Jack (sadly): No… but he is my grandfather

Dr Tate: Huh… so that would make your father…

Puppy!Jack: Lucifer.

Duma: “Dr Tate, heaven is not unreasonable, you can avoid divine retribution by announcing to your considerable audience, that you’ve had a revelation, that everything you’ve written to date is false, that God is good...”

Dr Tate: Security!!

Or he tries to call security, but Jack TK’s the phone away and turns him to salt. Jack smiles when he’s done and the puppy thinks he’s done something good, but he’s done way worse than pee on the rug. Bad Jack, very, very bad!  

Once again, Dean is off to the side and Team Sastiel (also known as Team Save Jack) are sitting together at a table.  Castiel has updated Sam and Dean about his trip to heaven. Sam’s on board, “So the angels, they’re going to help us?”

Castiel: I was promised every effort would be made to locate Jack.

Dean (to Cass): Oh, heaven promised? Great. (to Sam). Well, we should take that to the bank.

Castiel: Jack’s powers could also be a threat, it serves them to help find him.

No shit Sherlock.  But it also serves them to find him and use him.  What were you even thinking?  But it’s that time of the season you try to help by doing something dumb that’s going to backfire spectaculacularly, so what can we all do, but accept it?

Sam says he’s been looking for anything weird and reads from his laptop telling them a university professor was turned into salt.  Dean asks why that sounds familiar and Castiel answers that it’s biblical.  The thing is, Dean’s been shown to know the bible, as has Sam so I would think they would know this common story - maybe not others, but this one for sure.

Sam goes on to explain that the professor was an atheist, that wrote a bunch of books trying to disprove god and heaven.

Dean: Okay, so you think an angel iced him.

Castiel: No ordinary angel could do something like that.

Switch to Dean’s thinky face.

Sam tells them there’s another, a few hours later a woman (a fake faith healer according to the headline) fell into a crevice that had opened up and she was killed.  Dean asks, “Like a sinkhole?”  Sam said, “That’s what I thought too, but a witness said it was more like a fissure opened under her feet then closed back up with her inside).

Castiel quotes from the bible and says its 26:10

Sam says she a tv evangelist under investigation for stealing thousands of dollars through fake charities.

Dean: So… either Chuck came back, which that ain’t gonna happen (sledgehammer anvil warning or spoiler alert) or…”

Castiel: Jack

Jack’s back in heaven with Duma who tells him he’s done excellent work.  That working together they can bring the glory days back (or words to that effect). Jack is only interested in one thing, “Sam and Dean will like that?”  Me: *pets.  Duma responds, “Words can’t begin to express how Sam and Dean will feel.” Me: Oh, you betcha. (wait, was I just channeling Donna?). Duma brings him to a room.  She wants Jack to take a human soul and forge it into an angel.  Wait, what?

Duma: What do you say?”

Me: “I SAY YOU ARE MAKING THIS UP AS YOU GO ALONG.”

Well, I don’t so much say it as shout it. Sorry about that outburst.  Angels came well before humans so I’m really looking forward to the explanation for how on earth a human soul can be made into an angel.  

Duma tells Jack that the room she’s brought him to is where his grandfather received prayers. She leaves him to make himself available to hear prayers.  

Jack sits on the throne and the more I see the throne, I can’t help but wonder if Dean is going to end up on that throne running heaven and Sam’s going to end up on the dark throne running hell.  I’m usually wrong, but I’ve just always got that feeling, from the speech Chuck gave once to Dean, “You, Sam, others that are the chosen, will have to find a way.  It’s why I saved you years ago.  You’re the firewall between light and darkness.”  Anyone that knows IT, knows there’s always 2 firewalls at either side of a connection.  Sam would be the firewall for Darkness (Hell), Dean would be the firewall for Light (Heaven) and the earth in between would be safe from both (because angel or demon, they are all dicks). Hippychick does meta... badly so we quickly move on!

Jack sits on the throne and hears many thoughts at once, until one voice comes through louder than others.  We switch to that voice, which is a woman delivering a prayer to a congregation. She tells them that “Pastor Aimes is coming by to discuss The Book of Samuel.”  Everyone seems very happy with that, so it’s obviously a group of Sam fans.  Jack flaps in and is invited to join them. Jack introduces himself and he’s ditched the name “Winchester.” He’s just “Jack”.  He asks them if they meant it when they said they wanted to go to heaven. They nod enthusiastically.  He asks if they wouldn’t mind becoming angels. Again, everyone is all on board the angel train.  The leader saying, “that would be a dream.”  Jack says it doesn’t have to be a dream, and shows his powers, and he’s his father’s son, because we get a lightning display outside the church and then Jack glows golden, his wings appearing as a shadow on the wall behind, before returning to normal.  He asks them to come with him to heaven.  

Pastor Aimes arrives.  Jack says he’s taking his friends to become angels, and would Pastor like to join them.  Pastor Aimes – who unfortunately for him missed Jack’s display of powers - is dismissive (while at the same time wondering why the audience and leader are in a trance).  Jack kills Pastor Aimes by having him be eaten by worms which is a bible reference to King Herod. Anyway, it’s a gruesome death.  Jack smiles because he’s doing such a good job and Sam and Dean will be so pleased with him.  He leaves with the congregation.

Oh wait, the pastor’s not actually dead, he’s in hospital, all bandaged up, so Sam and Dean - and of course Castiel because Chuck forbid they do what they used to do on their own any more without him being forced into every scene to avoid the meltdowns from his fanbase – pose as FBI and ask him what happened.  He tells them the congregation were taken to heaven to become angels.  They both look at Castiel who looks a little uncomfortable. Sam shows a photo of Jack and Pastor Aimes confirms that was who he saw. He explains that Jack waived his hand and cuts opened up and worms crawled out. He tells them that “he (Jack) said he was carrying out heaven’s orders and that I wasn’t a believer.”

Dean: Well… feel better.

Oh Dean.  Empathy!

They go outside the room to talk and Castiel quotes again from the bible.

Sam (surprised): So…this is another bible thing?

Seriously?  Seriously Dabb?  In your penultimate episode, you have Sam fucking Winchester look dumber than a bunch of rocks that he’s not already made that connection himself?      

Dean wonders what the hell is going on (probably with the writing for both he and his brother in this episode so far) and walks away.  

What the hell do you mean what the hell is going on? This case is probably the easiest you’ve ever worked on.  Jack has been misguided by heaven into carrying out their work.  Duh!

Sam is the last to leave and we see that the worms are still coming out of Pastor Aimes, and that’s a horrible death.  REMEMBER THIS DEATH FOR LATER!

Dean and Sam are arguing back at the bunker and whatever other issues I have with this episode, it certainly isn’t the scenes Jared and Jensen are in.  They once again show why I even continue to watch this show which is why this scene is in it’s entirety.

Dean: I didn’t want it to come to this either, but I know that that kid’s head is not right, and now that heaven has its hooks in him, we don’t have a choice.

Sam: Come to what?  What are you talking about?

Dean: Stopping Jack once and for all

Sam: Okay, fine, say I agree (said very much in a way that I don’t agree), Dean he can’t be killed.”

Dean: No, but he can be contained.  

He opens the door to a room in the bunker and Sam walks in behind him asking, “How are we supposed to do that?”

Oh Sam, as I said, dumber than a bunch of rocks this episode, I really, really feel for you. You are capable of making these connections, but have just been slapped with the dumb stick.

Sam looks at the room for the first time and sees a tarpaulin over something that can only be…

Sam and Dean are standing across from each other. Dean pulls off the tarpaulin to reveal the ma’lak box.  “With this.”

Sam: Are we seriously talking about locking Jack in this?

Dean: No, we’re seriously talking about not having a choice, we can’t kill him, okay, and this is warded to lock down an archangel.

Sam: Yeah… so… so what… we…we just… force him inside (Sam’s very uncomfortable right now).

Dean: No, no, he goes in here, it’s gotta be his choice.

Sam (stating the obvious): He’s never going to go along with that!

Dean: Maybe…

Me: Dean don’t do this, please do not do this, asking him to lie to Jack will destroy Sam.  You know how he feels about this.

Dean: But he might, he might if he only has to stay in here long enough to finish the spell to fix his soul.

Dean’s turned away from Sam for this next bit so Sam can’t see his face, but we can.

Sam: The spell?... What spell?  There is no spell!

Dean: We know that.

Sam (sighs): So, you want to lie to him.

Dean: No, but I want zeppelin to get back together (I think that’s what he said?), but what I need, what we need, is to stop Jack.  Big difference, but here’s the deal, we’ve both got to sign off on it. This might be our only shot and if he even catches a whiff that this is a scam, he’s off in the wind.”

Sam: Exactly, but how do you think he’s not going to know something’s up?

Dean: Because you’re going to be so damn sincere.

Sam: Me?  Why me?

Dean: Because you’ve always been in his corner, you’re his go to guy.  Sam, if you reach out, he’ll come.  If I do it, after what happened to mom, I could lose him.  (Sam looks away).  I will lose him.

Sam closes his eyes, he’s really not happy. But as I mentioned right at the start, regardless of what they are planning or what Dean is asking Sam to do, this is a fantastic scene between Jared and Jensen and the best thing about the episode so far.  Are we surprised?  

We see someone that looks to be homeless, warming themselves by a fire in a garbage can.  Turns out that he’s an angel near the sandpit portal and looks to be guarding it – presumably guarding it again since they now have Jack and don’t want Castiel to get anywhere near him.  Castiel demands the portal to be opened. And this is what I don’t understand – who let Castiel in to heaven earlier in the episode?  He can’t get in without the portal being opened and Duma would have told people not to open it for him, so how did he get in?   They just change it as and when they either need him to enter or not, it’s frustrating.  Anyway, the random angel tells him that heaven is closed.  Castiel says no, he was just there.

Random angel: I’m sorry, I said that wrong, Heaven is closed to you.

Angel fight!

Or not, as we switch to Jack in heaven with the people he abducted earlier.  He’s bringing them out of their trance one by one.  Me: Isn’t there a faster way that could maybe have freed up 5 minutes for something else?  No?  Okay then.

The random angel appears in the throne room, he’s tossed aside to reveal... Castiel behind him.  

Duma: Castiel! Good news… I found Jack

Puppy!Jack: Cass, look, I’m making angels!!

Castiel: Yes, you, umm… Duma, a word!...  Now!

Badass!Castiel alert.  Love him.  

Back at the bunker, Sam tells Dean he doesn’t think the plan is going to work. (translation for non Sam fans or people in denial: he really doesn’t want to do this plan)  

Dean: One way to find out

Not getting out of it, Sam prays to Jack, who we switch view to, and Jack is hearing Sam’s prayer. “Jack… I hope you can hear this… bad things happened but we’re family, we’re your family, and bad things happen in families… we want to talk with you, that’s how we can all get through this, that’s how we can all move forward.” (I think that’s a record, 3 family references in a single sentence - go Dabb!)

Back in heaven, Castiel accuses Duma of using Jack to solidify her hold on heaven.  That she’s “establishing a reign of terror… stripping heaven of its mercy”. Duma: “Well, Heaven never really had any mercy Castiel, you know that.”  She tells him that she’s saving Heaven, she’s saving our kind (angels) and she is saving the world.  God complex, (Season 6 and 8 or 10?)  Zzzzzzzzzz

Sam’s still praying: “Jack, we want, we need, to see you, our mother would want it, your mother would want it…”

My mom voice: Sam “whatever your middle name is” Winchester!  You did not just bring Jack’s mother into this mess!

Duma and Castiel are still talking, thankfully not for long, back with Sam: “Jack, we just want things to be the way they were, are you hearing this?”

Jack says he is.

Castiel says to Duma that he’s getting Jack out of here.  Duma stops him saying she’ll end Ma and Pa Winchester’s special heaven if he does anything.

She doesn’t get a chance to do the Thanos snap because Castiel ends her with an angel blade. Yes! Where have you been hiding?  Hmm?  I’m so done with Castiel trying to live and work and act like a human crap, he’s a fucking powerful angel and I hate what the show and fandom have reduced him to, this poor, little wooby that’s been reduced to human problems. He isn’t anything of the sort, which is why his story ended long ago.  Anyway, kicking my stuck record player once again, Badass!Castiel (which is the only Castiel this blog accepts) goes to find Jack.

Back at the bunker, Jack has not appeared, Sam says, “I guess he didn’t hear it.”  (is there a little relief in that statement Sam, hmmm).

A flap of wings though announces Jack’s appearance and he says, “I heard, and I was so glad.  I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”  He turns to Dean who looks like he wants to rip Jack’s head off, “I’ve been working with the angels to purify the world, oh and making angels…”

Okay, I’m going to kudos this one because I’m actually feeling for Jack here, he’s like a literal child, and he feels he’s done good (because Duma told him he was, and it would make Sam and Dean happy).  And all he wants is to make Sam and Dean proud of him for doing good and we’re meant to feel bad about what Sam and Dean are contemplating doing.  It’s horrible, this is a child they are going to put into a tiny, dark box and lock the door on. We’re supposed to stop and think about that.  But from Sam and Dean’s perspective, Jack isn’t just a child, he’s the most powerful being on the planet and he’s killing innocent people because he’s completely malleable to influence, he’s killing people because he doesn’t know any better. He’s killing people because he has a temper and can’t control it.  And they’ve got no idea how else to stop him, other than the box.  

Dean imo isn’t thinking straight, and not just from grief from Jack killing his mother.  Even before Mary died. Dean’s been affected by the things Michael did while wearing Dean’s body and using Dean’s hands for murder and we haven’t seen that come out yet, but from Dean’s perspective, it’s always been about eliminate the monster, which in his opinion, Jack has turned into and needs to be dealt with like any other monster.  

And Sam, as I’ve mentioned in a separate post, he’s going along with Dean because he doesn’t want to let his brother down again. He doesn’t want to make the wrong choice like he did with Ruby.  He’s never going to let his brother down again by choosing someone over Dean (Sam’s view of things, not mine), so his only choice is to trust Dean. He’s also struggling with decisions he’s made this season that he feels has led to the deaths of several people (unfairly imo), but it’s heavily on his mind and he doesn’t trust his judgement anymore so he’s looking to someone else to call the shots, unfortunately, that someone else is equally broken and equally not capable of calling the shots.  And screw anyone that is hating these boys right now because you haven’t been watching the season which has led up to this!

Kudos to Jensen, Jared and Alex as this is a great scene between the three of them.  Alex is so child-like, Jensen is barely containing his rage and Jared is alternating between being scared of Jack and really not being happy about what they are doing. Fan fiction or not, the show has portrayed that Sam feels a father/son relationship with Jack (moreso than Dean I would strongly argue).  I’m both an Aunt and a mother and I can say that although I love my nieces and nephew, it absolutely does not compare to a parent/child bond. Putting this scene in it’s entirety as it’s that good.

Jack: Yeah, I make angels… (Dean fake smiles), but, I really missed you guys.

Dean: Yeah, us too, right Sammy…

What I love about this scene is that during it, Sam got up silently and had been walking around the back of Dean.  Dean had his eyes on Jack the whole time, but he still knew that Sam had moved from the table and where he is now.

Dean: …Tell Jack how we want to clear things up, you know, between us

Sam looks like he’s walking up to the gallows as he’s moving closer to Jack. This is horrible to watch, but hey, for the first time in a few episodes, it’s actually great television no matter how painful!

Jack: I know, I know things have been bad, and… and if it helps, I regret it.

Now, since this was said in a similar tone to “I regret having that fifth cookie”, it’s not going down all that well with Sam and Dean so Sam and Dean just look at him and he continues, “The… accident.”

Sam (looks briefly back at Dean): The… accident?

Jack: What happened to Mary… she kept talking about my soul, that I didn’t have a soul, and she kept pushing…

Dean: Oh… so, she made you do it

Jack: No, it was me but, I didn’t want this “no soul thing” to become an issue between us. (Sam looks back at Dean who is trying very, very hard, not to react). I guess I… snapped.  Before I knew it, it was all over.

Dean: It… being the accident

Jack (steps forward): I wish it didn’t happen

Dean: yeah, Jack, so do we, but… we understand, and we forgive you, you know for the uh… accident.

Sam (moving closer to Jack and he’s close to losing it): That’s what you want, right Jack, I mean you’d, you’d like that?

Jack: I’d like for things to go back to the way they were.  (He sighs and smiles), I knew you’d understand.

Dean: So, if we told you that we were close to being able to fix your soul, we just need to keep you safe, until everything is ready… you, you’d be okay with that?

Jack: Safe?  What do you mean? 

Dean: Well, you could hurt other people, have another… accident.

Jack: Oh

Sam: We want to keep you safe Jack, that also means we have to… keep you safe from yourself (Sam reaches out and tentatively puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder), you know just so that nobody gets hurt, just until we get you better.

Jack looks at the hand on his shoulder and then at Sam and Dean and we (and likely they) are not sure if he’s going to have another “accident”, but he doesn’t, and they lead the lamb to the room with the box in it.  Dean tells Jack that the best feature of the box is that it’s warded so keeps Jack’s powers below “the meltdown level.” Sam does that enthusiastic parent thing where they try to make a bad thing sound good, “Yeah, so you can’t hurt anyone, and nobody can hurt you!” (doesn’t that sound wonderful Jack?!)

Jack says he understands, but I’m not sure he really does.  He goes into the box anyway.  He asks Sam how long before he can come out.  Sam answers, “not too long, (he looks nervously at Dean then back at Jack), Jack, we got this.” (Narrators voice: Sam does not have this, he’s close to breaking point).

Everybody is smiling (or grimacing) and Jack says, “Okay” and lies down in the box which Dean quickly closes and locks.  Sam closes his eyes and walks out. He can’t handle it.

Jack’s in the box and he’s calling for Sam and Dean and I can’t.  Sam and Dean are outside the room and they can hear him and it’s just awful. And it’s the panic room all over again, with a lot less space.  Fuck Dabb for this, seriously.  

Sam and Dean are finally drinking from the bottle of scotch mentioned earlier. I get an empty glass and join them because really, did we really just do this?   Sam asks Dean what they do now. “Just go on with Jack locked up in there forever?”

Dean: We have to

Sam: I don’t know if I can do that.

For those of you that think Sam’s went along with this plan without having the intention of finding some way to help Jack get out then I feel sorry for you, you are missing out on a great character. Sam will absolutely be spending hours upon hours not sleeping to do research to get Jack out of the box, while working on Dean to accept getting Jack out of the box (so he’s not seen to “betray” his brother again which Sam as I mentioned earlier will not do).  And similarly with Dean, he’s broken and not functioning and shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions right now, but Sam doesn’t trust himself, so what can you do? 

Dean doesn’t answer that, just appreciates the whisky Ketch left.

Sam: you know I never thought it would end like this, with Jack.

Dean: Sammy, we knew from the beginning it was a long shot with him.

Sam: Yeah, but long shots are kind of our thing

Back to the coffin and Jack’s still calling for them, “Guys, I don’t think I like this.”

You know what Jack, neither do I.

Hallucifer is with him, telling him he got played. Jack tells him they said he should trust them.  Hallucifer tells him that trust is a two-way street, that if they had trusted him, they wouldn’t have locked him up.

Castiel is back, he updates that Jack had been manipulated into doing what he was doing by Heaven (well duh again!), That Duma had told Jack that by doing those things, it would please Sam and Dean.

Dean: Oh, so now it’s our fault

Castiel: I’m just saying it’s urgent that we find him and tell him

Sam: Cass, he’s here.

Castiel (eyes narrow): What?

Dean: He’s locked up, safe, he’s in the ma’lak box

Castiel: No!

Dean: And that’s where he’s going to stay

Sam and Castiel look at each other.

Hallucifer is still working away at Jack and it seems to be working.  He tells Jack there is no coming back from killing their mother, so the box is it for the rest of time. Jack gets pissed, his eyes glow and we see the box shaking… but it doesn’t break.

Castiel: Even after hearing what I said, you want to keep Jack sealed in a living death.

Dean: He agreed to it, because deep down, I think he knows it’s best

Castiel: No, you’re doing what Duma… you are manipulating him!

Back to the coffin, Jack turns to Hallucifer who says, “Bring it.”  Eyes glow, warding seals glow and Hallucifer laughs.

Sam: Cass…

Cass: What?  You just want to forget about him.

Dean: I wish I could forget about him, after what he did, and you know what he can do, this is our only play…

Loud banging noise is heard by all three, the bunker is shaking, emergency lighting switches to red, alarms blare, they run to the room with the box, with Castiel in the lead (but how does he even know which room Dean had the box in? – even Sam didn’t know).  

Anyway, as we look into the smoke, yellow eyes appear first then Jack moves forward.

Sam: Jack…

Wow, let the meltdown ensue in the tags!  

Last cliffhanger of the series next week, loads of meta already, I’m on Team: Dean will try to kill Jack, Sam will try to stop him, Chuck will appear to sort it all out and Castiel will be sacrificed.   My prediction for Season 15 is that Dean will be told to sort out Heaven and Sam to get a grip on hell. And I will be way wrong, but it’s fun guessing where all of this is going to end. 

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on... a few games

[discussion of A Case of Distrust, Gray Skies Dark Waters, and The Lion’s Song below the cut. there won’t be any major spoilers, but I will be at least alluding to some things that you might be better off not having heard allusions to if you want to play the games.]

Thoughts on A Case of Distrust

I heard rumblings about A Case of Distrust on Games Twitter, and, while the pitch sounded enticing, there wasn’t any demo and I didn’t want to buy a game I knew next to nothing about. I put hands on it for a few minutes at PAX East this weekend and immediately bought it from the developer. (I confess the discounted PAX price helped.)

The enticing pitch is as follows: You play PC Malone, the only female private detective in 1924 San Francisco. PC mostly gets adultery gigs - snoop jobs for suspicious wives - but snags her first proper case from a shady rum runner investigating some death threats he’s received. Things get dicier when her client shows up dead the following morning. The art and presentation are killer, the downtempo jazz soundtrack is choice, and I appreciate the way the game leans in to having a female protagonist in a classically male role.

This isn’t some alternate-history 1924, where women are treated with equal respect to men. PC quit the police force after the death of her biggest advocate, her uncle Lewis, knowing that none of the other policemen would let her work real cases. So she struck out as a private dick, and is constantly underestimated by the suspects she interrogates. (Though it wasn’t explicitly mentioned in my playthrough, it’s a safe bet she goes by PC instead of Phyllis so that potential clients won’t know she’s a woman until they meet her in person.) (Also PC is interactive fiction speak for Player Character.)

The whole of the interface is a fairly robust notetaking system, where you can interrogate any suspect about any statement made by any other suspect or any evidence you’ve seen. Getting new bits of information and using them to contradict a suspect’s story is the whole game. It has one thing to do and it does it well: letting you construct a theory of what happened in your head and test every piece before making an accusation. It’s something a lot of mystery games imply while actually doing the hard parts for you, and, while I wouldn’t say A Case of Distrust completely forsakes handholding, it knows what the fun bits are and lets you do them yourself.

What the game is missing is... a plot. A Case of Distrust has a complete first act: it has an inciting incident with the rum runner hiring PC, it sets up its themes about PC’s feelings of failure as she tries to live up to her uncle’s example, it introduces its central characters and hints at its world of seedy speakeasies and businesses that serve as criminal fronts, it has an unexpected (and very artfully directed) dream sequence, and the first act ends with the rum runner’s death.

It also has an ending.

Between them, there’s no real plot. There’s a mystery, for sure, and what hardboiled detective story would work without one? And it opens with an excellent nod to the scene in The Long Goodbye where Philip Marlowe fails to feed his cat. But it doesn’t have the scene where Sam Spade meets with Gutman and then passes out from a spiked drink, or where Jake Gittes sleeps with Evelyn and then tails her car through Los Angeles, or where Brendan Frye gets thrown in Tug’s trunk and driven to meet with The Pin. There’s no rising or falling action, no setups or payoffs, no setbacks or reversals. There’s just the mystery. Every suspect stays right where you left them - one guy sits in a chair waiting for his barber to get back for the entire game - and the only thing that happens between you and any of them is conversation. There’s not even much in the way of red herrings; you can have a bad theory, but there’s never anything that sends you down the wrong path to eventually turn up nothing.

Even the threads about PC trying to be a proper detective in a world that doesn’t take her seriously, though not exactly dropped, are unsatisfactorily resolved. (Frankly, the defiance of gender politics would go down easier if the female suspects weren’t the same old noir tropes, jealous gangster molls with no real agency.) The whole affair ends pretty abruptly, save for an obligatory sequel tease.

The game is worth playing, certainly - more mysteries should have that notetaking system - but I hope the next one recognizes that the mystery itself is the least important part of a noir. It’s what happens around the mystery that makes or breaks it.

Thoughts on Gray Skies, Dark Waters

Another mystery of sorts, though, in this one, the female detective is simply a daughter trying to find out why her mother vanished the year before. There aren’t any interrogations or recovered murder weapons, just a girl wandering her home town and asking her friends and family what they know.

It’s hard to discuss Gray Skies, Dark Waters without addressing its production values. I’ve played a number of microbudget indie games in my day, but even small-scope adventure games have a hard time looking polished without a decent amount of money. Gray Skies, Dark Waters is maybe the roughest-hewn game I’ve ever bought off of Steam. There’s no character animation to speak of: main character Lina has a walk cycle and that’s it. Everyone else has a talk animation and a standing/sitting-in-place idle animation. (This is another game where everyone stays in the same place waiting for you to come talk to them for the entire game; only one character shows up in a second place.) No one’s lips move when they talk. No one moves their hands when ostensibly handing inventory objects to each other. Voice actors are very clearly recorded using different mics, because the audio quality differs wildly from character to character, sometimes from line to line spoken by the same person.

I want to say this up front because I want to get it over with. I came up on TIGSource, I’m used to rough edges. None of this matters if the story is good.

I’m not sure the story is good.

It’s definitely not bad, though it’s hard to talk about without spoiling anything because the game is very short. Lina and her family have been living alone with her dad for the last year, ever since their mom disappeared. Much of the game’s appeal is in the details: Looking for clues means hearing Lina’s musings on her house, and, by extension, her life before and after her mother’s disappearance. Talking to her siblings is one part investigation and several parts painting a picture of different ways children deal with grief. And, frankly, the dialogue and characterizations are quite good. Some of Lina’s poetic commentary is overwrought, and the siblings can be a bit one-note, but foibles of a talented writer who hits the mark more often than she misses.

The game’s biggest setback is that there’s just not much mystery to the mystery. The explanation is not the kind of thing you’d assume from the outset, but you’re going to have it figured out by the midpoint. This makes the gameplay feel less like uncovering a narrative and more going through the motions. It can almost feel like a third-person walking sim, where you’re just moving through the narrative, not really directing yourself through it.

But I like walking sims, so that’s not really a complaint either.

On the whole, I think there’s a lot of value to playing a game like this. I’m not sure I’ve experienced an adventure game that was this comfortable with sadness. Plenty of games have broken my heart before, but not many are about the laborious process of mending one. If it has a failing, it’s that it’s insubstantial. This isn’t a portrait of grief or of family life, it’s a sketch. It has barely enough time or budget to glimpse the big picture before its over. But it’s a big picture worth glimpsing, I suppose, of a subject rarely addressed in games.

I’d call it a worthwhile experience. That’s not quite a recommendation, but it’s not not a recommendation, either.

Thoughts on The Lion’s Song

Of these three games, The Lion’s Song is the most ambitious. It’s a pastiche of pre-war Austria’s art and science culture, viewed through three vignettes and a coda. Each character is devoted to a particular passion and is trying to create their first real masterpiece: Wilma is trying to compose a symphony (the titular Lion’s Song), Franz is trying to break through a person block with his painting, and Em is trying to write a mathematical proof but has to disguise herself as a man to work with other mathematicians.

The gameplay is largely about how each character manages the personal issues that both impede and inform their work. The player helps Wilma tune out the parts of her environment that distract her and focus on things that give her inspiration; helps Franz pick and converse with his portrait subjects to try and locate their essence; and helps Em extrapolate a proof about objects in conflicting states from her own dual existence as both man and woman. This is all done very artfully, with a number of visualization tricks and some gorgeous sepia pixel art.

The writing is also quite lovely across the board.

The weakest link is the final chapter. I’m not the first to say so. Each episode has cameos of the characters from the other chapters, and the episodes are even more tightly related thematically. But I’m not the first to say that the ending, which aims to tie them all together narratively shoots for the moon and lands somewhere short of the stars. What it’s going for is a sobering reality check on what happened to the mini-Renaissance in Europe at the dawning of Modernist thought, and it’s very poignant on paper, but in practice it just comes out of nowhere, to the point where it feels like a cheat. In an episodic story where you rely on the ending to tell you what it was all about, not sticking the landing casts a shadow backwards on the whole series.

The other elephant in the room is the problem with telling stories about genius artists: You have to be a genius to pull it off.

The devs can’t really sell Wilma as a genius composer if we’re going to hear snatches of her symphony, or Franz as a genius painter if they’re going to show us his paintings, or Em as a mathematical prodigy if they’re going to show us her proof, if any of these things are not made by actual geniuses. The music is lovely, but it’s being sold as holding its own with Stravinsky; the art is pretty, but it’s sold as holding its own with early Duchamp; Em’s proof is either based on real math but simplified until it’s unrecognizable, or it’s gobbledygook that’s meant to sound sort of like math.

I never want to be the guy who asks “why is this a game,” but one might pull this off better in a non-audio/visual medium. (Then again, Marc Estrin tried to pull this thing where he’d make up “genius” symphonies and ballets that took pages and pages to describe in Insect Dreams, and that book was insufferable.)

As an analysis of how artists and scientists push through creative blocks, it’s a bit over-simple. But as a kaleidoscope of the artistic culture and the social and political pressures of Vienna at the turn of the century, it’s kind of wonderful. (Or, at least, 3/4 of it is.) The first episode is free and the whole endeavor is worth checking out.

[im-too-old-for-bts]

Rewards [M]

Pairings: Reader X Namjoon

Genre: Filthy smut

Word Count: 2700 

Summary: Agreeing to help Namjoon conquer his writer’s block sure seemed like a good idea at the time, until he showed up at your front door wearing that stupid sleeveless shirt that is. 

A/N:  Our dear Leadermon just wants the best for us, right? And if reading and writing dirty, nasty smutty smut about him in celebration of his birthday is what we want, he’d totally support us, right? Good. Glad we got that cleared up. 

The low, urgent dialogue of the movie was the only sound in the room.

Occasionally, the sound of a pen scratching on paper met your ears as Namjoon noted something in the book on his lap.

“I can’t do thiiiisss!” one of the movie’s characters cried and you struggle to contain a nod in agreement.

Less than half a meter separated you, on one side of the couch, from Namjoon, on the other side. But the space felt closer to half the length of the equator, considering you were strictly forbidden from getting any nearer to him

“Just a little cloooossssserrrrr!” another character wailed and you sucked at your teeth in annoyance, trying to block out the sound.

In the case of Johnson versus Miller… you read for what felt like the fiftieth time.

You’d been staring those seven words for so long they were burned into your retinas.

While time ticked on, the pile of work next to you wasn’t getting any smaller; your desire to reach over and run your hands over Namjoon wasn’t getting any smaller either, but thanks to Min Yoongi, you really couldn’t do it.

When you next saw Yoongi, you were going to beat him the closest object on hand, which would probably be Jimin.

You pictured yourself flailing Jimin around like a club and grinned at Johnson versus Miller. Yes, that would be fitting justice.

When Namjoon had called you earlier in the day, you had been more than eager to agree to see him.

“I need to finish watching this movie for reference material and it’s chaos at the dorm,” he had sighed. “I can’t get anything done. I know we haven’t seen each other properly in a while and having me come over to work isn’t ideal, but being around you is the only other time I’m comfortable enough to concentrate on getting something like this done.”

That little throw-away line had sent your heart into flutters. The two of you had only been dating for a few months and since your work kept you just as busy as his work kept him, you had barely had time to see each other.

Still, just having him around would be nice – even if he was working – and maybe if you were lucky you could sneak in a little touchy touchy.

You had skipped to your bedroom to find something nice to change into, humming softly to yourself as you shimmied out of your practical, comfortable underwear and pulled on a sexy, highly uncomfortable pair.

“Helloooo,” you answered in a sing-song voice when your phone rang.

“No,” said Yoongi on the other end of the line and you paused with your underwear halfway up your legs.

“No?”

“No, don’t say hello like that,” he grumbled. “Namjoon isn’t coming over for sexy touchy touchy time. He needs to work and you need to let him do it.”

“I know he’s coming to work,” you replied, annoyed. “I’m not planning on touchy touchy-ing anything.”

“Then why are you changing?”

“What?” you said, looking around in alarm. “How do you know I’m changing?”

“We’ve been friends for much longer than you’ve been dating Namjoon,” Yoongi reminded you. “I know what you’re thinking before you do. More importantly, I know what you’re planning on doing before you do it.”

You pulled a face and Yoongi made an irritated noise.

“Don’t pull that face at me,” he said. “Namjoon has never had this much trouble writing lyrics and he’s looking for inspiration anywhere he can find it. He needs to finish this by tonight so we can start recording. No disturbing him under any circumstances.”

“But-”

“None.”

You had shot a dark look at the picture of Yoongi hanging on the wall. “Fine, no disturbing him.”

“And change back.”

“What?” you protested. “No, I need-”

“DO IT.”

“Fine!” you huffed into the phone, kicking off the lacy panties and pulling on the boring, cotton ones you had on before. You poked at the picture of a winking cat on the front of them and pulled another face; these definitely wouldn’t be getting any engines revving.

“You suck,” you muttered into the phone.

“Just make sure that between the two of us, I’m the only one who does.”

You ended the call with a groan and pulled on your sweatpants and t-shirt again.

The worst part was that Yoongi was right. Namjoon had told you about how much of a rut he was in and if he was here to work his way out of it, you needed to respect what he was doing.

Besides, you had just as much work to do. If you stayed in your lane and handled yourself like an adult, both of you could have a very productive Sunday afternoon.

Of course, when you had opened the door to find Namjoon standing on your doorstep, your steely resolve had immediately faltered.

He looked wan and tired and the smile he had given you had been half-hearted.

“Hello,” you had said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly, hoping to squeeze the drained look on his face away.

“Hello,” he said, running his hands up and down your back.

He needs your support, you chanted to yourself.

He needs your support.

He needs your support.

He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt.

He needs your support.

“Come in,” you said, untangling yourself from him and trying to keep your eyes on his face.

“Thanks,” he said and you congratulated yourself on keeping your gaze above his neck. But when he dropped his bag to the floor and reached inside for the DVD, your eyes had strayed to his arms and the curve of his chest visible through the gaping armholes.

You licked your lips unconsciously. You knew exactly what that skin tasted like and boy did it taste good. If only you could…

He needs your support! intoned the voice in your head that, you realised with a sigh, sounded a lot like Yoongi.

“Are you hungry?” you had asked, walking to the kitchen and leaning on the counter to watch him, your hands safely tucked into your armpits.

“No, thank you, baby,” he said, fiddling with the DVD player “I ate just before I came.”

“You want something to drink then?” you asked, your eyes raking along the planes of his back visible through the shirt. “Tea? Coffee? Beer?”

“Tea sounds good,” he said, getting to his feet and walking over to plant a light kiss on your forehead. Your eyes closed at the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said his lips still against your forehead. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You had moved your head up so that your faces were level. His mouth was so close to yours. If you just leaned forward a little bit…

The Yoongi voice bellowed in your ear again and you had swerved to give him a peck on the nose instead.

“Okay,” you said with a smile. You had cheated then, putting your hands on his bare arms and ushering him back to the couch. A swift blast of adrenaline shot through your spine. “Get to work then,” you said, ignoring the feeling.

You had made the two of you some tea and had decided to sit on the couch next to Namjoon, a stack of papers you had to read through on the table next to you.

For almost an hour you had done very well, steadily working your way through the pile while Namjoon scrawled away next to you.

But halfway through the movie, he had lifted his arm to run his fingers through his hair absently and a whiff of his cologne had floated lazily past you.

Oh.

You took a peek at him from under your eyelashes. His hair was messy from repeatedly running his fingers through it and there was a tiny frown on his face as he scribbled in his notebook.

“Just a little cloooossssserrrrr,” the character repeats with a wail and you watch with fascination as Namjoon’s tongue pokes out of his mouth and slowly traces along his bottom lip.

He stops writing then and turns to look at you.

Oh shit.

You had been so focused on him that you forgot to be subtle about what you were doing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks an amused note in his voice.

“Oh, you know,” you say, clearing your throat softly and turning back to your work. “It’s just nice to see you working so um fluidly.”

“Thank you, baby,” he says with a soft laugh, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek.

Really now, he wasn’t making this easy, was he?

As if he sensed the throbbing knot in your core, your phone suddenly rings, Yoongi’s name flashing across the screen.

You press the answer key but before you can put the phone against your ear Yoongi’s voice blares through the speaker.

“I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING YOU BETTER NOT-”

You end the call with a start, quickly putting it on silent and throwing it on the table next to you.

“Was that Yoongi?” Namjoon asks distractedly, his pen moving across the page again.

“Nah,” you lie, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Just a telemarketer.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says absently.

His gaze is fixed so intently to the page that you could take the opportunity to chuck Johnson versus Miller to the side and drink in as much as him as you wanted. But, no, you were being adult about the situation and-

“I think I’m done,” Namjoon says suddenly and you resist the urge to burst into tears from relief.

“Baby,” he says, turning to look at you shyly. “Will you read it?”

“You don’t have to do that,” you respond, the small smile on your face hiding your wildly beating heart. He wanted you to read his lyrics before anyone else saw them? Maybe he was dehydrated and delirious; he’d only taken a few sips of his tea after all.

“I want you to,” he says and your smile widens automatically.

“Okay,” you say, gratefully putting Johnson versus Miller on the table next to you and stretching your hand out to get the notebook from him.

But Namjoon shakes his head slowly. “You need to come over here to get it.”

You laugh softly. “I don’t think that telemarketer will be too happy if I do that.”

“We’ve both worked very hard today,” Namjoon reasons. “I think that telemarketer would agree that we could do with a reward.”

“And you know,” you say, scooting closer to him and settling on his lap, straddling him. “It’s a proven fact that people work harder if they know they’ll get a nice reward at the end.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon says planting soft butterfly kisses on your neck while his hands run down your back to your ass.

It’s difficult to concentrate on reading with Namjoon’s hands on you and your concentration takes a further dip when his hands slide under the waistband of your sweatpants.

“This is amazing,” you sigh, setting the notebook carefully on the table next to the couch and turning to look at Namjoon. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Good enough for a reward?” he asks and you nod slowly, the feeling of his hands kneading and squeezing your ass making it a challenge to form sentences.

You kiss him softly, letting your lips move over his like it’s the first time you’re doing it. You run your tongue over his top lip, pulling back slightly with a smile when you feel his tongue flick against your mouth. You move to run your tongue over his bottom lip, moving away again when his tongue darts out.

Namjoon makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and you grin, teasing his lips with the tip of your tongue until he grips your upper arms tightly and holds you in place, his tongue pushing urgently into your mouth.

You reach up to tangle your fingers through his hair, allowing his tongue to lap insistently at your mouth.

He only stops with a sharp breath in when you nip sharply at his bottom lip. He pulls away from you slightly and a shiver runs through your spine when you see his bruised, swollen lips.

Before you can think his hands are on your t-shirt, tugging it over your head and for a few furious seconds the two of you are all hands and limbs as you pull each other’s clothes off.

When you’re both undressed you settle back down on his lap, positioning yourself so that your clit is rubbing against his hard, thick length.

You grind on the length of his dick while he pulls your head back up into a deep kiss, his hands quickly moving down to your ass to help guide your rhythm.

“Oh god, yes,” you moan into his mouth when he helps adjust your angle to that the head of dick rubs against your clit.

You reach down to grip his dick in your hand, keeping it steady as you grind against the tip. Namjoon’s hand reaches under your ass and your rhythm becomes erratic when you feel two of his fingers slowly slide into you from behind.

Namjoon’s fingers keep up with your pace, plunging and curling inside you while you frantically chase your orgasm.

When you finally come, Namjoon adds a third finger, leisurely fucking you with his fingers while you cry out loudly.

When you’re done, you rest your head against his shoulder, your breathing wild and your walls still tightening around his fingers.

When you have just enough control over your breathing, you lift your head and kiss him deeply, your tongue plunging into his mouth just like he likes it.

After a few moments, you pull away from him, shimmying off his lap and feeling a slight sense of disappointment when his fingers slide out of you.

You move to the floor and Namjoon adjusts his position on the couch, knowing exactly what you want to do. You settle on your knees between his legs and glance up at him with a small smile before running your tongue slowly from the tip of his dick to the base.

The tip is wet with pre-cum and the length is moist from when you came; you wipe your tongue slowly over it, lapping all of it up.

Namjoon’s hands fist in your hair when you run the tip of your tongue over his head and he lets out a grunt when you suck at the tip before moving to put his whole length in your mouth.

You let his hands guide the movement of your head and he curses when you swallow around his dick.

“I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he chokes out and you let your tongue swirl once more over the velvety head of his penis before slowly dropping him out of your mouth.

He mutters another curse and pulls you to your feet, positioning you back on his lap. You slide effortlessly down his length and with your hands braced on his shoulders, you ride him urgently.

You weren’t going to wait; you weren’t going to take it slowly and enjoy the feeling of his dick deliciously stretching you.

You wanted to fuck him and you were going to do it sloppily and quickly.

One of Namjoon’s hands reach between your sweaty bodies and he rubs hard over your clit; so hard that your body instinctively convulses and your second orgasm rips through you, quickly followed by a third when Namjoon continues to drive you up and down his dick, riding out his own orgasm.

When you’re done you sag against him limply, your muscles feeling heavy and dull.

“Baby,” he says hoarsely.

“Hmmm?”

“You know, we’re only half-way through writing for the new album,” he says, laying down on the couch and pulling you down next to him.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” he says with a sigh. “It’s not ideal, but I might need to come over a few more times to work on some stuff.”

“How inconvenient,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face in his chest.

Our Masterlist

[aquatopaz]

“The Boss” Review/Thoughts

I’m not always the best at voicing my opinions but after I finished this game I knew that I had to try and say something.  First of all for those tl;dr- this game is amazing and if you love Jacksepticeye, please please go play this.  It’s free on GameJolt.  It’s highly story/dialogue driven, and for me a casual gamer the puzzles were not super difficult and the game is very forgiving (lots of save points and help if you die too much) so I found it really enjoyable. It’s clear that this was a labor of love from the team (and extended team) of @sarcastic-pasta-games​. So for more back story, gushing and possible spoilers, please read below the cut.

I had been hearing about this game for several months leading up to it. Seeing some tumblr posts going around etc. And I paid more attention to it when our JSE Community Discord server was talking about it and even Katie (the main creator) joined for a brief time. (We loved having you join us Katie, if even for a little while!) I played the demo when it came out and loved it, and then started following their blog. And even submitted an ask entry when requested.

And now it’s here!  I finished it in about 4- 4 1/2 hours?  It was super fun from start to finish.  I would have stayed up and completed the whole game in one sitting if I didn’t have to wake up the next morning and go to work. So I did it in two gaming sessions.  I was pleasantly surprised that my ask made it into the beginning. (Thank you team! I am really happy when I saw that :D )

The game controls beautifully.  It did not feel slippery really.  Maybe when I was doing the Fran Bow maze section where you couldn’t touch the sides, but I think that was more player error than game mechanics.  The story pacing was well done.  Just when I felt like I was getting tired of an area it would change to the next one. The sprites and scenes were beautifully crafted, and the character images that were next to the text (not sure what they’re called) were draw perfectly.  Close enough to their original artwork, yet different enough to stand out.

Oh and the games that were intermixed and weaved through out the whole thing! There were so many characters and game references!  And of course with all of that comes the dialogue and flavor text!  So much and I loved every minute of it. The original characters felt real, and I quickly fell in love with them and truly cared about their well being and getting them home safely in addition to Jack. And of course all the game characters felt true to their original counterparts- even Jack too. The writing was spot on. Hey and I’ve got to say- I got most of the Jack trivia right on the first try, thank you very much. (I’ve watched too many videos :P)

And that ending- I will tell you that I did tear up a little bit (Katie- yes you accomplished your mission, I did cry).  And yes I did think it was Anti at first.  Especially with the zalgo text messages at the top of the game and the black hoodie at the end of the game, but I glad that it wasn’t.  It was refreshing that it wasn’t and that it was just Seán.  The ending directly would impact Jack if he plays the game (and he really should), but you know what? That ending could also represent me too.  The real me vs. the me that is out there or that people see or my insecurities etc.  And thank you for putting in the direct message at the end to the player.  It was really touching (I wondered why I put my name in game in the first place).  It’s a good reminder. (And I heard you in there @ekhoecho and @ipredictacyborg Good job guys! I was like “Whoa I know them. My friends are in this! :D” )

And just when I think it’s done you guys throw a song in the end?!? That anthem had me laughing!  Speaking of which the music, how could I forget the music?Well done, well done! A game is nothing without great background music.  And the gallery at the end with all the touching thank yous and stories and information.  

Just thank you, thank you for making this game a reality.  I’m so glad I got to play this.  I can’t wait to check out more games by Sarcastic Pasta in the future. Thank you to all the artists, the voice actors, the writers, programmers, the music and sound designers, the play testers, everyone.  And of course I need to tack on the JSE community as well.  This was a group effort and it clearly shows. Once again thank you again.

<3 Aqua

[old-slubber]

A few things about Pyre (spoilers)

One the most eloquently written stories and fully realized worlds I’ve seen this year. Characters are given the same goal with different and understandable motivations, and having their be no overtly deadly threat did not make each encounter any less dire. I’ve played over 30 games this year and yeah, this is my number two so far, sitting just behind Nier: Automata and just in front of Night in the Woods

So here’s how I went about freeing my companions, leeding to an ending I can’t stop thinking about.

Gae (or any other variation of her name :V) went first. Initially I didn’t know how to go about sending people off considering not everyone was worthy yet. I chose her first because she seemed the most innocent out of everyone, though there was actually no way I could have known that because I hadn’t gotten her full backstory yet, so I felt like I kind of screwed the pooch in that regard. So from then on no one was getting out until I knew what they were all about. So I thought second to go was Hedwyn, he was generally the most sincere out of everyone.

However when it came time, I decided to free Ti’zo instead. He commited no crime and therefore had no reason for him to stay in the downside any longer. Also I assumed imps could come and go from the Commonwealth as they pleased, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Now around this time is when Volfred gives you the news that there are only a certain number of liberation rites before no one can be freed. I always figured something would happen that would just give us all pass considering how the game couldn’t be played with less than three characters (Or rather it would be almost impossibly difficult). This instead was Pyres answer to that. At this point I considered my characters freedom not based on there characters, but based on both what I believed to be their effectiveness in carrying out Volfreds plan, aswell as their gameplay abilities. During the end game I would need one defensive player (Jodariel or Volfred) one offensive character (Bertrude) and one evasive character (Rukey, Gilman, or Pamitha). That left Hedwyn as kind of a wild card. He was well rounded so it didn’t seem like a good idea to send him out considering some of my characters may still be unworthy, and he would go in there stead. Considering the Reader is just an avatar for you’re decisions, this felt like they’re kind of plan of action. So I was planning on getting out the most capable people while keeping those who’s abilities would serve me best in the rites.

Then I uncovered Sir Gilmans backstory. Needless to say he would leave next. The poor man did nothing wrong.

Jodariel followed. This is the first departure that had me a little emo. Being with us from the beginning and seeing her character develop into a better version of herself was enough to know that her ark was complete and was time to be sent off.

At this point the game takes a bit of a narrative dip. not in terms of writting quality but in terms of a noticeable lack of optional dialogue. I just chalked this up to being that as the character paths diverged the writers just didn’t write enough variations to keep the flow going, not to say that they didn’t in other aspects, frankly the amount of time and effort they put into connecting and disconnecting these threads is astounding, but while I think my previous statement is valid this also could hold narrative significance that as the reality that these characters could be stuck here forever was sinking in, leaving more to their own thoughts rather than engage in conversation.

Anyway, the next liberation rite that commenced was against the faction Pamithas sister was on (the name escapes me :V). She was the only  character whos backstory I hadn’t known yet so I sent her out to see if anything would develop. Instead in her mind I heard her beg for her sister to win rather than her. It was then that I decided that Pamitha would undoubtedly not be freed. If unlocking her backstory meant that I would have to sacrifice the plan at all it isn’t worth it, seeing how I didn’t know if I could even trust her or not. 

Bertrude was the other that I figured I wouldn’t be able to send over. She seemed to have a life for herself in the Downside despite everything, more than I could say for our other campanions.

So that leaves Volfred, Hedwyn, and Rukey. When he first took place in the rites, Volfred had claimed he did not want to go quite yet, a statement which he never went back on, and Hedwyn was my key to actually having a team that could even win the rites.

So Rukey was freed. So long doggo.

With only 4 team mates left and yourself, you deduce that their are only two more rites remain before the passage way is closed forever. Considering I could not pass through the gate, this was perfect. I already committed to keeping Bertrude and Pamitha here, so it was just Volfred and Hedwyn left.

I let Volfred go (I didn’t really enjoy his gameplay enough to consider him going before Hedwyn).

And so we get to the final liberation rite, facing off against the True Nightwings, whose leader was robbed of his freedom from the downside. Our team prevails, and of course, I choose to send Hedwyn. But in a change of standards, Hedwyn is then given the choice to send whomever he wants out of the Downside, himself included. And of course, because he is a sweet boy he chooses me. Him doing this also gives me the choice of whether to accept this freedom, return it back to Hedwyn, or give it to our opponent who was robbed of his freedom many rites ago.

I truly believe this is the best possible outcome of this game. Hedwyns freedom carries more weight here than any of your other companions. His goal from the beginning was to free his friends and himself, but he was always selfless rather than selfish. I don’t think that this final act of selflessness would be as impactful or as genuine as it is with Hedwyn. Others may have been drawn to other characters more but this falls so perfectly in line with Hedwyns personality from the beginning that it hardly felt like the last choice could have been anything but this.

But now I had to make the choice. Out of everyone I felt like the Reader was least deserving of this, seeing as she had only been exiled a short time. And as noble as Hedwyns sacrifice was I ultimately gave it to our opponent. Not only did I want him to get the freedom he was owed but I also figured that everyone left in the nightwings would be worse off if he were down here with them.

So there you go, despite feeling guilty for leaving such a good man down in the badlands, it made for such a good story moment that I can hardly feel shame for my actions. What an amazing game

Yeah that’s all thx bye ;V

[fakesam]

Madden 18′s Story Mode Has Aged Poorly

Of all the bizarre plot twists 2017 has thrown at us, the NFL becoming a battleground in the political discourse is… actually pretty low on the list. It’s been that kind of year. But it is still very weird. The Cheeto-in-Chief has made a habit out of picking nonsensical fights, spewing vitriol in the direction of everyone who dares to disagree with his agenda. The spray-tanned septic tank had bleated his displeasure about exiled quarterback Colin Kaepernick before,an easy appeal to his supporters to whom an admonishment of a dissenting minority is a reinforcement of national values. To love this country is to accept the word of our tiny-handed fascist wannabe unquestionably, accepting his every word without discerning between facts and the ramblings of an elderly hate-filled loon.

The Kaepernick “issue” had already been made inert anyway. Colin Kaepernick has yet to, and likely won’t ever be, signed by a NFL team despite relatively impressive numbers on a bad 49ers team, almost assuredly due to his insistence that unarmed black people shouldn’t end up dead after encounters with the police as often as they do in this country. America’s problems with race have been embedded in the core of this nation from the very beginning, but avoiding difficult, self-examining questions about itself is America’s most unshakeable habit. The dozens of videos revealing needless violence against citizens at the hands of their alleged protectors should speak for themselves, and yet the societal uproar over a person kneeling during the anthem often sounds louder than the cries from black people pleading for the establishment to give the slightest fuck about this civil injustice, at least in certain circles. Every argument against Kaepernick - that he’d be a distraction, that you’d have to rebuild an offense to suit him, that he’s somehow worse than Blake Bortles,Josh McCown, or Andy Dalton - wilts under the slightest whiff of scrutiny. But much of the furore over his unemployment had subsided, given way to disappointed acceptance by an industry that is much more comfortable exchanging takes of various temperatures anyway. The league’s stance is clear. Domestic abusers will receive second chances, someone who becomes the symbol for increased civil engagement in sports will not. Cool.

And then White Patriarchy Incarnate referred to Kaepernick, and all players who follow his lead, as sons of bitches at a rally in Alabama supporting Roy Moore, a probable child molestor.

This rash disparagement led to a spirit-lifting dragging session led by Lebron James, and galvanized dozens more football players to voice their opinions on the state of the country, forcing the sports media machine to bring potentially awkward race debates to the willfully ignorant. The death of sports as an apolitical sanctuary away from the rest of the world is a necessary one. To many, watching sports has been the primary escape hatch from the suffocating news cycle where you could just have fun, try to win a fantasy league, and not think about the crumbling state of society. This was always a false comfort, an illusion for people who have the luxury of not worrying about how the new regime might seismically reconfigure your daily life. The national anthem and the co-opting of patriotic symbols was a choice (It’s not a coincidence that the NBA and NFL’s official logs are utilize a red, white, and blue colorway.). Taxpayer money is used to build stadiums because no one needs financial help more than billionaires. Sports are still the most foolproof way for poorer people to break through the increasingly reinforced glass ceiling of class stratification. It’s all been there, it was just easier to look past before the last year happened. The commotion has died down again, but the impact is long-lasting. In spite of everything, Colin Kaepernick still won.

This is not the world Electronic Arts planned on entering, but it was a motivating factor for me to watch a playthrough of Madden NFL 18’s new single player mode. (Money’s tight and I don’t want to put money in the NFL’s pocket. Still think my opinion is valid.) Longshot tells the story of Devin Wade, a prodigious quarterback talent that loses his way after the death of his father, played by Mahershala Ali. The addition has received plenty of praise in reviews, mostly for the portrayal of the friendship between Devin and his ride-or-die best friend, Colt Cruise, natural and lifelike even as the tension between them becomes strained and tightened by their situations. There are several character moments that I found really endearing. But the further I got into the story, the more difficult it became to view the narrative through the lens of its creators, divorced from the controversial reality that has forever warped the NFL’s image.

Longshot was clearly made by diehard football fans - the phrase “football is family” is uttered by a character at one point -, but the ways it glosses over the problematic elements of the game to focus on football’s tendency to self-mythologize is the large elephant in the room. Football is seemingly the only source of happiness for these people, except for perhaps the lovably villainous slimeball executive running the show who is attracted to the money and high ratings that come from a connection to America’s favorite game. High school football games are the main event in this small Texas town, with and Wade and Cruise’s past triumphs easily recalled by them and their less athletic friends. There’s a visit to a military base for Wade and his crew, reinforcing the strange relationship between the NFL and the armed forces. This exaltation of football culture feels misleading in this climate. Devin Wade’s inner torment over the death of his parents is mostly left offscreen, framing sporting success as his only salvation. What Longshot does decide to depict traffics in tired stereotypes that should’ve went extinct years ago.

It’s established early on that Devin Wade is a superstar talent who was destined to make it to the NFL if not for his breakdown while at Texas. But it also makes it clear that he is the least knowledgeable football person in the game by a distance. He doesn’t know how to direct an offense, read formations, or even the most basic levels of game theory. It defies belief that a dude who doesn’t know that running on second and one is the smartest play for an offense is some unpolished diamond with the capacity for greatness. Longshot plays into this depressingly persistent idea that black quarterbacks, without proper teaching and moulding from coaching staffs - staffs who tend to be overwhelmingly white - are nothing but imprecise flourishes of talent, succeeding in spite of their lack of intelligence because of their “natural talent”.

Black people make up most of the NFL’s population, but the sight of a black QB is still incredibly rare. The position sits atop the highest pedestal in the game, with its occupants expected to be the leader and face of their franchises. America’s reticence to progress could only lead to one conclusion. This is a direct quote from Warren Moon, the first black quarterback inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame, via The Undefeated:

“Despite the fact that there were a lot of African-Americans playing in the National Football League in the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s, there was a stereotype that we weren’t capable of succeeding at certain positions. If you played those positions in college and you got drafted, you knew you were probably going to get moved in the NFL. Supposedly, we weren’t smart enough or had the leadership qualities or whatever it took. At every position, for African-Americans, conquering that myth at quarterback was so important.”

The stereotype is slowly eroding, although after seeing the flak Cam Newton caught in the past for celebrating himself and Colin Kaepernick got for speaking out, it’s clear that flagrant displays of confidence from black people still stirs up some uneasiness. It’s likely a mistake of oversight rather than malevolence. I don’t believe that the writers of Longshot had designs on making the one living black character in the game to be so dumb because he’s black. But when you create a story that uses sports movie cliches as a launching point, the origins of those cliches should be scrutinized.

EA’s workaround for Wade’s airheadedness is to allow his supporting cast to shape him however they see fit. Devin Wade has very little autonomy once he begins to practice with retired coach Jack Ford, a man who initially objected to Wade’s progression through the TV show, after failing to convince the higher-ups that another qb contestant was a better candidate (The tv exec overruled him because Wade would draw more viewers.). Wade’s rough edges eventually push the coach to the brink of quitting, only to be convinced to keep working with him by Cruise, who was brought up to help speed up the learning process. Wade’s lack of polish is a longstanding issue, he explains, and the duo work together simplifying the playbook to fit Wade’s skillset through an all-night montage, without any input from the star of the show. His success is only possible due to the machinations of his white cohorts working behind his back.

Everything falls into place after that. Wade’s prospects pick up after that, as the coach-player duo resolve their differences and truly become a team in order to progress through the show, the final test being a televised scrimmage against NFL washouts. Next comes the draft, the results of which are predicated on your performance during drills and some of your dialogue choices in conversations. Either way, both of them make it onto a roster. The ending of Longshot makes it clear that a sequel with the same characters is in play. I would be curious to see where Devin Wade’s life goes from here. This is the first time Electronic Arts has written a narrative for their football game, so growing pains are to be expected. While the business partnership with the NFL potentially complicates the scope of the story, I hope we see more of the issues complicit with Wade’s job now that he’s made it to the league. It’s not like they’re going away anytime soon.

[duanecbrooks]

She Made It After All

 "I'm not a great actress who can create a character. I play me."             Those were the words of the television icon Mary Tyler Moore, who, as you surely know, recently died of cardiopulmonary arrest with complications from pneumonia, to a journalist, summing up what, as she saw it, was her acting technique. Not only were said words incorrect by and of themselves as, as the TV-interviewing legend Dick Cavett pointed out, they represented a leonine misunderstanding of what comprises a believable and effective performance, they were an entirely unjust minimization of what she gave us television viewers these many years. And what she gave us television viewers these many years was unvarnished gaiety and laughter, not to mention, quite often, heart-tugging moments.             It all started, for me as with everybody else, when she portrayed the housewife/mother Laura Petrie on the classic TV sitcom The Dick Van Dyke Show. Like everybody else, I have fond memories of her strutting about in those tight black capri pants--which would alternate with a light-colored skirt--and looking quite scrumptious (The renowned cinema director Rob Reiner told a Playboy Magazine Interviewer a very humorous story concerning those pants. One day while Reiner was on the Van Dyke Show set--his Dad, of course, was the head honcho of the show--he became so turned-on looking at Moore in the aforementioned pants that he reached up and literally touched her ass. Moore, need it be said, was shocked and, need it be said, immediately told Reiner's Dad what his son had done. Which prompted the following dialogue between the Reiner father and the Reiner son. Father: "Did you touch Mary Tyler Moore on the ass?" Son: "Yeah." Father: "Well, don't do it again").             There are two scenes Moore was in during her time on that show wherein she most fully showed what she could do, wherein she best displayed her monumental comedic-acting chops.           .Sally (Rose Marie, of course), who usually did the typing during the Alan Brady writers' sessions, was--for a reason that, alas, has completely escaped my memory--unable to come to work. So Rob (Van Dyke, of course), after quite a lot of prodding from her, consented to allow wife Laura to fill Sally's place at the typewriter. During Laura's day on the job, she made a number of suggestions regarding the writing, some of which were quite good (Example: Rob and his colleague/friend Buddy [Morey Amsterdam, of course] had written a script wherein it was asked: "Why should we [Americans] want to go to the moon?" To which Laura piped up: "To find out whether it's chewy or chocolate cream"). Rob, however, rather than welcome his wife's input, was downright savage toward her, rather crudely telling her that she wasn't there to assist in the writing but to type and to stick to that. This behavior, sad to say, repeated itself several times. Naturally Laura became frustrated but when she tearily protested, Rob carved into her yet again ("You've been nothing but trouble ever since you've been here"). This of course was for Laura the straw that broke the camel's back and, after telling hubby off in kind ("The purpose [for my coming here] was to help you"), she stormed out, proclaiming: "I'm fired!" (Which caused Rob to yell after her: "You can't fire! I quit you!").       It was Moore's effortless charm during the office-writing scenes and, later, her deftly summoning just the right amounts of vulnerability and hurt in reacting to Van Dyke's verbal abuse that made that episode work, that were wholly responsible for its winning humanity.             .A teenage girl with whom Rob had become good friends--I, alas, have forgotten just what her position was in the episode--had developed a fervent crush on him, going so far as to openly tell him that she wanted to marry him. At first Laura was bemused by this but, as time wore on, she understandably became pissed. Which caused this dialogue between the Petries.                                                   Rob: "I'll tell [the girl] that if I marry her, you'll kill yourself."                                                 Laura, sardonically: "No, if you marry her, I'll kill you both."                                               (After a bit more dialogue)                                             Rob: "Well, I'm not going to marry [the girl]."                                                 Laura, with equal sarcasm: "Well, that's good news."         It was the unforced sass and pointed wit Moore displayed in this scene that had you watching, that kept you laughing.                 And Moore got even better when she got her own namesake television sitcom. The Mary Tyler Moore Show to this day stands as one of the most thoroughly stylish, most firmly adult sitcoms in network-TV history--indeed, there is considerable evidence to support the argument that it's the best such program in network-TV history. It was TV Guide that reported that when the show was being put together, CBS executives sent memos urging that there be "block comedy" scenes, like Moore being trapped in a roomful of monkeys and that "to jazz up the story," Moore "should date a visiting European prince." Happily, there were no--no--such times on the show. At all times--at all times--The Mary Tyler Moore Show grounded its humor in the recognizable and the believable. Also: Said program's episodes were always, always filled with what Moore herself would call "articulate, witty humor," never, ever devolving into the kind of televised hollering matches that were a staple of the "groundbreaking," vastly-overrated All in the Family--and, come to think of it, all of Norman Lear's prime-time sitcoms (One Day at a Time being the sole--the sole--exception). And while the Moore Show often dealt with topical subjects--anti-Semitism, the rise of the "happy-talk" television-news programs during the 1970s, the inequality in pay women experience in comparison with men--there was never, never the kind of self-applauding, look-Ma-we're-Dealing-With-An-Issue air that the Lear sitcoms--again, One Day being the only exception--took on when they did the same. Au contraire, the Moore Show's issue-exploration was always marvelously matter-of-fact, always blissfully devoid of self-indulgent chest-thumping.                 There were two episodes of the Moore Show, in particular, wherein its lead player best showed off her enormous talent, were the best frames for her towering ability.             .One episode--which was written by David Lloyd, who, come to think of it, wrote the vast majority of the funniest Moore Shows--began with Mary Richards (Moore, of course) happily working in front of a typewriter. We soon find out that she's written a short story, which she eventually gives to her boss/buddy Lou Grant (Ed Asner, of course), fervently urging him to read it and give her feedback. When Grant demurs on the grounds that if he tells Mary he doesn't like it, she'll resent him, she earnestly assures him that that won't happen ("Rather than hate you, I'll love you that much more"). Well, Grant agrees to read Mary's story and, after he does, gives her his honest reaction, which is quite negative. Despite the facts that Grant's negativity is given 1) very hesitantly and 2) very tactfully, Mary, as the man himself warned her she would be, is quite resentful ("You're really having a good time, aren't you, Mr. Grant?"). Being intensely pissed off, Mary storms toward the door, first telling off Grant ("[The fact that you don't like my story] doesn't mean that you're wrong and I'm right. It does mean, however, that you can do your own damn baby shopping"), then storming out, indignantly slamming the door behind her. We next see the two of them at a gathering at Mary's apartment, with Grant assuring her that he'll have her laughing again--by tickling her (Mary, with mega-intense sarcasm: "My, is there no limit to the realms of your expertise?"). Grant tickles her, but no dice: Mary doesn't even so much as crack a smile ("Would you like a feather?" she asks him). Naturally Grant gives up, repeating his view that Mary's story is inferior and telling her that she knows it. Here Mary, livid at him, blatantly lies, telling Grant that a major publication has bought her story. Grant, being chastened, backs off from his initial reaction ("I've never been so glad to have been proven wrong in my life"). Yet in time Mary confesses to him that she was lying--a fact, we find out, Grant knew all along. Here Grant throws down the gauntlet ("Mary, I don't know how you want to be treated...Do you want me to puff up your ego?...Treat you like some boob?"). To which Mary replies: "God, yes!" Knowing when he's licked, Grant at last finally tells our Mary what she wants, and has wanted from the start, to hear: "Mary, I loved your story."To which she smiles beatifically, coos: "Thank you, Mr. Grant," and, still smiling rather vapidly, leaves.               The comedic brio Moore showed in that episode, going from comedic earnestness to comedic disappointment to comedic manipulation to, at last finally, comedic satisfaction with stunning ease, powered that episode, gave it heft and spice.             .Through a series of events that would take too long to detail, Mary discovers that Grant had a one-night stand with Happy Homemaker Sue Ann Nivens (Betty White, of course). Grant of course demands that Mary sit on this information, not tell anybody for fear of how Sue Ann will react, an insistence that sends Mary into gales of laughter ("What are you afraid [Sue Ann] will do, hold a spatula to your throat?"). However, Grant persists and Mary, solely to pacify Grant, crosses her heart--as Grant demands she do. Yet in a very brief time Mary, in an act of damnable--and entirely uncharacteristic--insensitivity, breaks her vow and freely tells news writer Murray (Gavin MacLeod, of course) of Grant and Sue Ann's one-nighter. When Grant finds out about Mary's betrayal, he is of course deeply hurt and, displaying admirable maturity here, breaks off the friendship he had with her "I still respect you as a producer. I still want you to work here. We're still a business. But we're not friends any more"). Mary, fully distraught at this, breaks into tears, pleadingly urging Grant to reconsider. Her boss and former friend, however, is having none of it ("Have you finished crying so we can get on with business?"). In time, though, Grant hooks back up with Sue Ann, there's some business--sad to say, I've wholly forgotten what it consisted of--and then Grant returns to his office, where he discovers an anxious Mary. She after a while tells him about what she claims was a one-night stand, similar to the one Grant had with Sue Ann, with a leading TV-news person. And that leading TV-news person was, she dramatically claims: "Walter Cronkite." She sees Grant struggling to suppress a smile, so she goes at it a second time: "Roger Mudd?" She witnesses Grant struggling even harder to keep from smiling, so she bores in: "If you smile, that means we're friends again." The episode ends with Grant not only freely smiling but freely hugging Mary--clearly saying that he's fully forgiven her and that the close and deep friendship they shared is back on track.           It was in this episode that Mary fully, fully shined, being charmingly bemused upon hearing of Grant's assignation with Sue Ann, being charmingly gossipy when going against her crossing-of-the-heart and spilling the beans to Murray, and, at last finally, confronted with Grant being justly hurt by Mary's insensitivity and his ending the friendship he had with her and her struggling--successfully, as it happily turns out--to regain that friendship, being deeply moving and appealingly human.         It is all this great work, spanning not just one but two decades, that brings on prodigious regret and prodigious sadness that this girl who could turn the world on with her smile has been forever taken from us. However, we're compensated by the fact that, being able to catch her uber-deft comedic acting in not one but two television sitcoms thanks to DVD, we can savor her applying her stupendous talent and her stupendous professionalism--and, again, thanks to DVD, see with the Moore Show in particular that, in regularly bestowing upon us that talent and that professionalism, she really and truly did make it after all.        

[berryarmstrong]

Thoughts on Roleplaying and Monk lore.

I've been mulling over posting something like this lately -- even as I type this I barely know where to start.

Recently there have been splits/schisms on monk/chakra lore. Given that I'm here for pretendy fun times and to make friends, I decided to remove myself from that matter entirely for a time. It's honestly been a trip seeing some of the uh -- comments that have been made, but those don't really matter. I suppose I finally just wanted to account for my own monk roleplay, perhaps? I'm not sure if that's worded right.

To begin with -- I enjoy following the lore, a lot more than may be rumored, especially regarding my main. I do have a good time taking some of the more fantastic concepts from it and applying it to the more flashy plots in my own Free Company, as you may see from the Agency tumblr -- but that's neither here nor there. This is about me, my character Berrod and the things I do with him.

While combing through the monk lore back in 2.0, I realised that there was a little hole in it. They always made mention that monks harness the energy of the chakras, but they never went into any sort of detail how . There I decided to extrapolate a bit, and begin assigning in game monk mechanics to chakras. A simple start, but it ended up developing into something more. After a bit of research and conference with some IRL friends, I decided to utilise the concepts of the seven major chakras as pictured in hinduism. Very loosely did I pull from that inspiration, for I knew that one day there would probably be a lore drop to say 'ABSOLUTELY NOT'. So far, there hasn't been one - there has been absolutely no bit of lore that outright states 'THIS IS NOT AT ALL HOW THAT ENERGY IS HARNESSED, AND IT CANNOT BE HARNESSED IF A MONK DECIDES TO UTILISE IT'. If there has been such a bold, black and white statement, I'll probably have to re-evaluate! Who knows, with Stormblood coming, I may very well have to -- and I'd be happy to, honestly! In the meantime, the chakra stuff I posted is what I used, and still use, to fill that harnessing hole.

Back when I was scribbling the concepts for it, I noticed that the chakras in lore did not have names. I didn't want to name them -- but after some thought, I decided that my character, who names EVERYTHING, would work better with named ones. I arranged things so that his master was the one who gave them names so that he could learn better. In short, my chakra notes/scroll stuff is simply what Berrod has been taught by his master in order for him to learn easier, not a declaration of 'THIS IS TEH LORE' or, 'I AM BREAKING TEH LORE AND CALLING THEM THIS'. It...kind of caught on more than I intended it to, but people were having a lot of fun with it, so who was I to snatch it back and say, "NO THIS IS MINE!"

Regarding the whole 'emotions' thing -- I don't think I've ever explicity said that 'CHAKRAZ R OPENED WIT EMOTIONZ'. Rather, with my character relegated to the role of working on opening/harnessing his, and later on being asked to teach others to open theirs, I applied an emotional element to each -- especially regarding meditation, which is only mentioned by name in the monk lore -- another thing on which I firmly believe we are free to extrapolate on. Our characters are men (as in mankind). Emotions come into play in almost every aspect of our roleplay, so why not that? The emotional element that I have applied is a very minor, very individual thing, not against the lore in any direct way, and honestly a very appealing way to get each character to grow outside of NPC status. Exploring endurance, will, passion, fear, anger, and YES, even sexuality during roleplay with those I've interacted with has been an amazing and fulfilling experience, and has not ONCE shaken the pillars of the established lore. It still sits within that hole of 'how the energy is harnessed'. Developers and worldbuilders often tell us that they cannot build/write everything to the most minute detail, and sometimes we need to place our individual flair and speculation into the gaps. I believe this applies to the harnessing gap -- at least for myself!

I'd also like to point out that my character has, not once, referred to himself as a Fist of Rhalgr. He has worn his master's regalia on a few occasions, and spoke on what he believed to be their behalf at one event. Berrod calls himself a 'Son of the Fist', and more recently, thanks to a phrase I enjoyed from the lore book, a 'leaf on the wind'. I'd like to take a moment to emphasize how IMPORTANT that phrase is. It's blatantly giving us the freedom to take what is a lost art and carry it forward in what reasonable ways we see fit as roleplayers. The stuff I've done is just my own part in that.

Anyway, all that stuff aside, there's something else I wanted to say. All the lore drops, lore posts -- I'm all for them. I agree with everything cited; contrary to popular belief, I've always done by best to follow it as best as I can. The thing about my style of roleplay is that I believe in extrapolation. There's literally nothing that says that chakras have anything to do with emotions! No lore on it at all! Good! I agree with that. However, there's absolutely nothing that says, 'chakras are not related to emotions whatsoever'. Extrapolation requires working within the limits of the little holes and gaps, and so far, that has not been a hard set limitation. Chakras are power levels! Yes! I 100% agree with that too! However, with very little lore on their exact nature other than that, why not apply a little flavour to them! I could sit here and write about my four chakra monk being more powerful than your two chakra monk, OR, I can engage in a fulfilling literary journey that explores the nature of exactly why MY individual is weaker than ANOTHER individual -- all within that harnessing hole. A journey that provides character development, forges friendships and rivalries...and makes it an overall, richer experiene for me and the friends I've made here.

THAT SAID -- I will roleplay with you. Whether you are a hard stickler for the lore with no deviation and look down on what I have done, whether you want to use the stuff I prattled out, whether you've developed your own thing within those gaps...I will roleplay with you. If you've bent the lore a little bit to give your character some flavour, if you play a DBZ style crater-puncher, if you play a pugilist playing at being a monk -- I will roleplay with you. Is your character a friend? Is your character a rival? Is your character a student? Is your character someone who wants to kill mine because of the things he follows and teaches? I will roleplay with you -- though don't expect me to have my character killed just like that. He's my baby, after all. No matter what is written as lore, no matter what drops in Stormblood -- it has all been developed so that we, the players, can use it to have fun together. I want to be as inclusive as I can, so I can meet as many of you awesome people AS I can. I won't look down my nose at you. I won't be condescending toward you (BERROD MIGHT BE, JUST A LITTLE, BUT HE'S TRYING NOT TO BE A SHIT ANYMORE). I just want to play with you and have a grand time in this fantastic world that the developers have created.

I've...been sitting on these thoughts for a while now. It feels good to get them out, to be honest. I'd love to hear people's thoughts on it --publicly or privately -- though I beg that everyone be civil. I'm not going after anybody here, and I'm not trying to start a fight. I'm just putting my mind to pixels. I'M LIKE 90% SURE I LEFT OUT SOME SHIT THAT I'VE BEEN WANTING TO TALK ABOUT, BUT YOU KNOW, SCATTERBRAINED AND ALL. But yeah! May He smite your writer's block. THE BIGGEST FOE. 'May Rhalgr smite your foes' by the way, is another one of my extrapolations. AT LEAST I THINK IT IS. I HONESTLY CAN’T REMEMBER IF I SAW IT IN DIALOGUE SOMEWHERE. ALL I REMEMBER IS PULLING IT OUT OF MY ASS DURING RP WAY BACK WHEN. IT'S FUN.

Happy roleplaying, people -- I can't wait to see what you all bring to the table in Stormblood.

[blschaos3000-blog]

It is 1:43 pm hot/summer/torando sirens

Welcome to “8 Questions with…..”

    I met our next guest,writer and author Darnell Cureton around two years ago at a blogging party. A blogging party is hosted by a person and you are encouraged to come by and read other blogs and share your own.     I popped on Darnell’s blog and and was blown away with his writing talent. I hit the “Follow”button and during the course of the weeks after doing so,I started reading Darnell’s writing and commenting. Soon we started commenting and supporting each other’s work. Its always a joy to see a good friend achieve a hard earned goal and I was some happy to find out that Darnell’s work was being published in a magazine which is no mean feat.      I have many very talented writer friends who have yet to achieve that so this should tell you just how good of a writer Darnell really is.  His latest short story “Life Changes” is one of the most unnerving mix of sci-fi/horror I have read in a good long time and I highly recommend it.    Darnell has a interesting series on his blog called “Diary of a Bad Writer” in which you can get a idea of what a working writer goes through in sharping a new story,character or just sitting down and WRITING. This series has encouraged me when I find myself sitting and unfocused,I find myself re-reading Darnell’s tips and ideas on how to just start WRITING.      I really hope you enjoy meeting one of the kindest and most talented artists I know….as I ask my friend Darnell Cureton his 8 Questions……

Please introduce yourself and tell us about your current WIP.

    Hello everyone. My name is Darnell Cureton. I’m a blogger and writing coach. My blog features writing encouragement in a post I call the diary of a bad writer. It’s a play on words that I use to get readers to stop by. I provide writing tips and talk about personal experiences with writing in a three to five line format. I also write fiction. My stories are about 1,500 to 3,500 words long. That’s works out to something like a 10-minute to 25-minute story to read in various genres. My latest story is called  “LIFE CHANGE.” It’s part science fiction, part fantasy, about a woman on a date. She is so paranoid about someone putting something in her drink that she doesn’t see what the real threat is. I had fun writing it and I encourage all to read it. It has a nice twist at the end.

How have you been handling the pandemic? What have you been doing to stay active?

   I am considered essential personnel on two jobs so I’ve been steadily working through the pandemic. It has taken a toll on me as I have to gear up daily with personal protective equipment including gloves, masks, hand sanitizers, and disinfecting surface wipes. Covid-19 has affected my writing as well. I have ideas for short stories but getting them on paper is slow. It’s not writer’s block. It’s more like losing the desire to write because of the depressing current events happening worldwide. I’ve discovered this is happening to other authors in our community so I’m not alone. To continue actively writing, I pen a paragraph or two to take the pressure off creating, then stop to do something else. After a couple of days, I’ll resume with fresh eyes and write a little more. Since I’m out and about, I listen to audiobooks throughout the day and stream movies like everyone else. I keep in touch with family and friends using video and text. It’s the new way.

What was growing up in the Cureton house like? What are three of your favorite moments growing up?

 Growing up in the Cureton household was for me… pretty much vanilla. My parents were old school, meaning they handled family matters between themselves. Seldom did they raise their voices at each other or me. When times were hard, I never knew. I always had 3 meals a day and a stable roof over my head. By age 10 I had my own room, a huge tube black and white tv, and a 3 tier electric Ho scale race car track in my room that my dad set up on a table made just for it. I walked a half-mile to school and back home… alone. There was no need for protection in numbers. I could stay out on Saturday all day without checking in. Nobody thought twice about where I was or what I was doing. It was a different world back then. For me, it was all vanilla and no drama. Favorite moments were:

 (1) When I got to choose the movie we would go out to see as a family. I, of course, would pick a horror flick with Christopher Lee doing his Dracula thing. Another time I remember asking to see Night Of The Living Dead…and they took me! Scared the hell out of me but they gave me the victory of seeing it.

(2) My dad buying me a red Schwinn 5 speed bicycle. It had a skinny front wheel and a fat rear one that resembled a dragster. I was the only kid on the block with one.

(3) I had asthma as a child so when I asked for a pet the answer was always no. To my surprise, one day I came home from school and there was a pup staring at me when I walked in the door. It was a mixed breed German Shepherd and Great Dane. That dog grew bigger than me and provided me with some of the happiest moments of my life.

When did you get the writing bug? Who encouraged you to start writing and how did they do so?

I got the writing bug by accident. A friend of mine was performing standup comedy at a local club. I wanted to support him so I show up wearing a dress shirt, pants, tie, and polished shoes. I stood out like a sore thumb! All around me were a sea of twenty something’s dressed casual in denim shirts, jeans, and Timberland boots. It didn’t help when a comedian (not my friend) saw me and called me pops! I was 25 years behind the bar scene! The experience was laughable, so I got the idea to post it on Face Book. I later decided I wanted to provide details, so I created an account on WattPad, the writing platform used to create your own stories. Well, I wrote about the experience and posted it there. Only friends I told about it read it. It was bad writing, but I’ve been hooked ever since. I told a childhood friend of mine that I wanted to write, and he’s been supporting me along with the WordPress community since that day.

 What do you enjoy most about the writing process? Can you walk us through what your routine is when you write? How many hours a week do you write?

I like dialogue. Giving my characters a conversation that sounds real makes the story come to life. The main thing is to get the idea or the scene down on paper. It’s okay at this point to have typos, too many – he said… then she said… or using the word LIKE 4 times in 1 sentence. Once I get the idea on paper, I can go back and clean up the mistakes and dialogue. How much time I write varies. Covid-19 changed much of my writing habits. In general I write when an idea is fresh in my mind. I pen those thoughts as soon as I can. Sometimes inspiration comes at a time when I should be doing something else. When that happens I get out my phone recorder and I dictate the idea or scene so I don’t forget when I get back to writing. I’ve learned from experience to write down the idea or voice record it because 2 hours later I won’t remember a damn thing about that scene or idea.

 Tell us about your blog. When did you start it and how has it helped you in your writing?

I started my blog back in 2014. It was called “Writing Block,” but I didn’t do much with it. In fact, I only had two postings that year and two followers. Sometime in 2018, I decided to add content and post 3 or 4 times a month. I didn’t think “Writing Block” had enough content so I also blogged about favorite movies, books, and TV shows. That stuff was mostly filler. With experience under my belt, I’ve learned how to dedicate the entire blog to writing original fiction and providing writing encouragement. With that dedication, came the blog name “Fictionista.” The website helps me with my writing by keeping me focused on writing. The diary postings are for me as well as other writers. I follow my own advice and project the message – “just keep writing.”

What is it like telling folks you are a published author? How do you handle it when you get a rejection letter from a story you sent in?

Telling people that you are an author is a wonderful feeling. It means that you have written something that a company wants to share with the world. When my first short story was published, I did a happy dance that would make NFL players envious! Rejection letters have the opposite effect. They can make you angry, depressed, and withdrawn. They can make you stop writing altogether. The thing to keep in mind is a rejection means the publisher doesn’t want to use what you wrote. It doesn’t mean that the work is bad. I received my first rejection letter in January. I plan on sharing it and the story I wrote with readers to show them that sometimes a publisher may not “get” what you wrote, but it doesn’t mean the work is bad. The story and rejection letter will be posted for Halloween since the story has an All Hallow’s Eve – LGBTQ theme.

What are the three most critical elements in writing fiction?

There are a few things but I will focus on three.

First is the PLOT. To keep a reader interested and turning the page they should know what they are reading. If it’s a crime story, establish what the crime is and who is trying to solve it in the first chapter so the reader can identify with the protagonist. Who wants to read a story in which you don’t know why someone is risking their life to save someone you don’t know?

The second is CHARACTERS – The people in your story should be believable types that could live next door to you. The neighbor with the bad tattoo, the obnoxious 10-year old that curses and calls the parents by their first names, or the young blond that goes jogging at night in a bad neighborhood with a colt 45 in a granny pack. Id love to read about any of those people.

Third – DIALOGUE –  Conversation between characters should sound real. If my protagonist is defending a homeless person against three aggressors, would he say “hey, homeless people matter guys,” or “the first one touching him losses an arm!” Dialogue matters my friend.

 Who are your three favorite writers and what makes them special?

   That’s hard to answer but I can tell you who I’m thinking about today. Let’s start with Octavia Butler. She was recognized as the first black woman to write compelling science fiction stories. Her novels mix science fiction with historical fiction and African American themes. If you’ve never read her work, I recommend her novel “Kindred.” It involves time travel and human rights.    The next favorite is Stephen King. What I like about him is he can write in various genres, and do it quite well. I’ve read his horror, supernatural fiction, suspense, crime, and science fiction. I’m doing the same with flash fiction. My stories have different genres. I think that gives you the experience to make the best story. Three favorite King stories are “The Mist,” “Carrie,” and Geralds Game.”     Last, Michael Connelly. I choose Michael because of the fictional character he created called Harry Bosch. Bosch is a well seasoned Los Angeles homicide detective that is hard working. He has made plenty of enemies and has a teenage daughter that he cares much for. The genre is a crime drama, with police procedurals built-in. Michael Connelly has written 21 novels (to date) with the Bosch character. The first novel with Bosch was “The Black Echo.” Connelly has written Bosch so well that it has become a popular series on Amazon Prime Video. The actor Titus Welliver was cast perfectly as the silvered haired detective that people love and hate. I hope to be able one day to write a character that people know very well, like Bosch, or Batman.

 Which three bloggers are your favorites and what do you like about their writing?

Well, you support and encourage me to write and that’s worth a mention, but since you are interviewing me, you are disqualified today, but there is always a next time!    I’ll start with Chris Hall. She is a published author that supports and encourages other writers by reading and commenting on their work. She dabbles in different genres including adult fiction. My favorite is fantasy flash fiction on her website. I become immersed in the world she creates and the characters. She can be found at Lunasonline.wordpress.com.    In between writing, I visit a blog that I find helpful in managing a healthy lifestyle. Caz, who suffers from a chronic illness, reminds us that our struggles may be invisible, but we are not. I’ve found the information on her website to be useful to everyone. A tip about natural ways to find peace and tranquility comes at a time when the world is stressing us out more than ever. Do you know what mask to use during the coronavirus pandemic? Caz covers that in a post describing various mask types and where to buy them. I look forward to her Frugal Fridays for things on the cheap that I may need. Spare a minute and take a look around her site at Invisiblyme.com.      When I return to writing, I follow author Sam Kirk’s blog. He is very good at creating stories using writing prompts. A recent story written by Sam used the second point of view. It generated a lot of comments. Sam took the feedback about the story and improved it with minor editing. Authors doing this show writers to embrace helpful criticism. It will make you and your work stronger. In addition to the creative writing, Sam writes a news related opinion piece that is based on current events. It is written in a way to generate comments. He also has thought-provoking topics in the hashtag category. Find Sam at dailyflabbergast.wordpress.com.

What do you like doing for fun when you’re not writing or avoiding the Covid-19?

   I love to grill meats outdoors. In our backyard, I start with burgers and hotdogs then work my way into chicken and pork ribs. My dad taught me to grill them with low heat and high smoke. I finish cooking the meat inside using steam for tenderizing, seasoning for flavor. When tender, I add BBQ sauce hot enough to make the devil ask for water. Homemade potato salad goes on the side. I do this in the summer and winter. I’m a true BBQ carnivore!

 The cheetah and I are flying over to listen to you read from your latest flash fiction but we are a day early and now you are stuck playing tour guide. What are we doing?

Well, its summer so I’d invite you over for…guess what? BBQ Chicken and Ribs with homemade potato salad. After we eat, I’d take you on tour to the Prudential Center, home of the New Jersey Devils. If there is no game, we’d get a drink. Most likely a Gray Goose Bump, the drink I made up in my story “Life Change.” Not far from there is the Little Theatre, a landmark adult film movie theater that opened in 1928 and closed in 2018. It’s a piece of history along with Newark Symphony Hall, a very old performing arts center that was the pride of Newark. It had status like The Apollo Theater in New York City. A ten-minute ride will bring us to the Newark Museum, the largest in the state. We’d check out a treasure chest of Buddhist exhibits, science rooms, and planetarium. The Buddha stuff might bore the cheetah, so I figured we’d head over to the City With Out Walls on Crawford street. It has cutting edge artwork created by young contemporary artists living in the city.

  My feet are tired so I’m calling it a day, but everyone can find me at:

DarnellCureton.com

Twitter.com/DarnellCureton

Instagram.com/DarnellCureton

I like to thank Darnell for taking the time to sit down and doing this interview with me. In this most uncertain time,it is comforting to know that creative souls like Darnell are still making art for us all. I encourage you to follow his blog,Twitter and InstaGram to keep in the know of what Darnell is creating next.

This is part two of a special series of 8 Questions that I’m doing,please click here to meet Stacey Bryan as she is also  pretty important to me and my blog.

If you’re new to the 8 Questions with series…….you can catch up by clicking here and reading over 110 different interviews.

8 Questions with…………..writer Darnell Cureton It is 1:43 pm hot/summer/torando sirens Welcome to "8 Questions with....."     I met our next guest,writer and author Darnell Cureton around two years ago at a blogging party.