okay so the n route has been bothering me ever since i played it and i needed to air my frustrations out as a way to cope i suppose
for reference my main detective who i use for n is felicity, but sometimes i also use arabella to test out some options i wouldn't normally pick and just to see how the romance works with a detective that isn't exactly that compatible with n. so when i first played, i used felicity and then later on when i was doing a deep dive into the romance and the plot, i was using arabella just to see if certain things held up yk! and lord how i wish it did LMFAO
just a little disclaimer that this is all just my opinion and i'm willing to listen to other points of view about this! and i do not mean any of what i say as a dig or to be hateful toward n, they are my favorite li in twc and the fact that i love their romance and their character so much is probably most if not all of the reason why their route in book 3 was so weird to me, and why i make the critiques that i do.
under the cut because this is a doozy and also book 3 spoilers
first of all the main thing in the demo chapters is that n gets mad if you try and fight the trappers bc they are so scared of losing you and like i GUESS i get it but this is literally our life now you're just gonna have to get used to it. and this wouldn't have even been an big issue for me if it was properly addressed! when i played using arabella i tried being mad, i tried staying mad, and it kept getting swept under the rug by the plot. like are we seriously not going to talk about this??? at all?????? and it seems very ooc for n NOT to say anything about it when you get a moment alone because why would they not address it, ESPECIALLY if your mc was still upset over it. AND ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE IN A RELATIONSHIP LIKE- these things need to be discussed in order to grow as a couple and there needs to be healthy communication or else this is not going to work. like you're telling me we were living with unit bravo for WEEKS and this shit just never got brought up again?
this also ties into my next gripe- n's backstory. so, if you snooped in the demo they won't tell you anything, which okay. mc shouldn't have done that, sure, but n doesn't even give a reason as to why they're upset by that. obviously you can be like "well i think anyone would be upset if you delved into their past without their knowledge or permission" but YOU ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH THIS PERSON WHY IS THERE NO COMMUNICATION OF FEELINGS. i would have appreciated that scene a hell of a lot more if n sat you down and was like "i'm upset that you did this, here's why," but all they do is get sad and then that's it. when i played as arabella i had her snoop AND get upset over the argument during the trapper fight, and n said something along the lines of "i know sometimes we regret doing things" as a reference to snooping AND the argument which??? just does NOT hold up at all and had me irritated as hell.
if you didn't snoop in the demo, n takes you to their room and shows you a picture of their family and talks about them and how his brother joined the navy and didn't come back (their brother was killed by vampires) and that's why they decided to join the navy, as a way to try and figure out what actually happened. this scene started off great, but it's cut short way too quickly because n drops the photo and the frame breaks. and then they basically just shoo you out. there's really not any option to comfort them, and the option that is there is not good enough. and it's not that n had to tell us EVERYTHING in that one scene, but it's more so the fact that it NEVER gets brought up again. your mc can't take a moment to bring it up and n sure as hell doesn't say anything else about it. which is so ?????? im sorry you supposedly love this person (im saying this for both mc and n) and yet neither of you address it again??? it makes no sense at all.
onto the research/combat scene… i've done the combat scene once so i can't really speak on that as much as the research one so. most of the research scene is fine aside from the fact if you're not in a relationship (which i did for one playthrough with felicity) n brings up bobby if you dated them which felt so bizarre but anyways. the option to realize you love n… i would love this IF the option where you tell n you love them actually mattered. LMFAO if you tell n you love them they literally just stare at you and then the sex scene pops up. like are you kidding me??? n would not just leave you hanging like that even if it was just to say that they don't feel that way yet. and the sex scene itself is… fine i suppose but it doesn't feel as intimate as it should be. there's little to no dialogue and it just feels so weird to read. like why would neither of you be saying anything?? not to mention the fact that you're literally OUTSIDE of the warehouse where any of ub could see you at any point it just feels wrong to have sex at that point at least in my opinion. and the talk after feels so short and weird i feel like both the detective and n would have more to say. and that moment is quickly brushed away by the plot.
i guess the next plot line is whether u told tina or verda or nobody about the supernatural. going into book 3 this was probably what i looked forward to the most and ofc it barely delivered. i liked seeing tina and n interact but that quickly turned sour for me, not because tina started rightfully bringing up how much mc has been through, but because n really does not do anything with that pov being voiced to them, which is so fucking ooc it pains me. when they go to talk to mc after their conversation there's no discussion just "i wanted to see you" okay but WHY did you? i would have taken a li pov of what tina relayed to them literally anything! and it's just another thing that gets swept under the rug because of the stupid ass plot.
another thing about the dinner that gets lost in the plot of book 3: tina/verda bringing up your li possibly drinking your blood and mc can react a number of different ways and i wish it had been talked about more than just in that moment 😭
the only scene that i genuinely enjoyed in all of n's route was after that building caves in on mc and you're back at the warehouse traumatized and bruised and defeated. n runs you a bath and if you pick that option helps you out of your clothes and then helps you settle into bed. i wish there had been more discussion of anything in that scene but mc was so out of it i was okay with no talking. and then redacted petname <3 the other thing i was most looking forward to! one thing i did dislike about this scene though was that we didn't really get a glimpse on how n was feeling yk usually mishka offers the li's pov on a scene and not having that made that moment not feel as rounded out.
the pool scene… first of all why did n get this one. like it would have made sense for m, hell even a! and again the scene felt so shallow and then the option to have sex. you're telling me your first time with n can be on a fucking pool table???? that is so not their vibe AT ALL and it feels so weird to even have that there. it was unnecessary as well as the other opportunity to have sex and i feel like mishka just put them in there as like fan service when who (in my opinion) genuinely wants this if they romance n and have them as their main route. i had hoped the first time n and mc have the opportunity to have sex it would be a more intimate setting because that's more fitting for them and my nate mc, felicity. but nope! and then the scene gets cut short because n has to go on patrol??? and again the sex scene itself … neither of them feel personable it's like a "one size fits all" type of approach and that just does not work if this is supposed to be interactive fiction where we create a personality for our mc's that cannot fit this specific mold mishka wants to put everyone in.
being invited to what might as well just be a fucking slave trade (i have many thoughts about this auction plotline as well but for now im discussing n's route) had me so confused because why would mishka even do that and then n's comment about the stationary? i need you to be fucking for real. the scene before you leave for the mission with n just felt so weird like we get it n is protective of mc but at this point it just felt like a hinderance which sucks because one of the things i love most about n is their deep care for mc and they just sounded like a broken record and it annoyed me so bad.
after all that, the scene when you come back and n is in tears confessing their love for mc i wanted to enjoy it i really did and i just could not upon replaying because it feels so unbelievably hollow. we have not discussed anything pertaining our relationship and when there are things that need to be discussed they are so underwhelming it's hard to even care. there are a handful of things n and mc both need to work on in order for this relationship to work and the fact that they're not being addressed makes it difficult for me to enjoy anything about this route. you can't even tell n you love them back for fuck's sake like hello.
a theme that i did not think was going to be as prominent as it was in this book but n contemplating mc turning into a vampire and AGAIN there wasn't ever really a discussion about this between mc and n and i feel like this will come to a head as the books progress but i don't think it fit into book 3 considering so many other things were being thrown at us.
all in all i truly desperately wanted to enjoy book 3 and enjoy being with n but i cannot when there are so many things ignored, sidelined, or just completely forgotten in order to push the plot forward.
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i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?
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Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.
“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”
At that moment, Kara saw the painting.
She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.
Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.
Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.
It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”
Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.
“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.
“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”
Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.
“What’s the title?”
The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”
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Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.
Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.
At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.
She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.
The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.
The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.
With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.
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The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.
But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.
Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.
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The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.
She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.
The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.
A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.
Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.
They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.
While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.
Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”
The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.
“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.
Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”
“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.
Kara watched her every step.
Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.
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There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.
After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.
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Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.
Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.
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Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.
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