#meanwhile she's lauded and loved by the characters who side with her

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Funny how that's actually true about how the characters/story would treat Dimitri, but when Edelgard does it it's "for a just cause" and it's always totally acceptable. This game really does love its waifu double standards.

#DCB Three Hopes Run #this is literally what she does (or claims to do) #fights ''for the people'' (a lie mind) but abandons them when it's better for her #not only does she admit she would sacrifice them but she does... a lot #meanwhile she's lauded and loved by the characters who side with her #meanwhile dimitri (the mentally ill one mind) has to do everything in his power #to actually do things for his people and prove himself when he's been proving himself right along #he has to /prove/ and /show/ he means what he says (which he does) #but it's often treated as if it's bc he's done smth wrong and so has to prove it (hence why I mention... the mentally ill one) #(and for that matter he doesn't even do anything ''wrong'' in Hopes) #then /she/ /says/ nice things but never has to actually prove it. sigh. the edeljerking from the devs just #gets so old and annoying bc it's done again and again and again while other characters have to actually suffer consequences #like yeah it's great that they do but she should too. it's like it serves to be like #they all have to face consequences for doing bad (or ''bad'') things but it treats her doing bad things as a get out of jail free card #and it does it every single time. this line just... really reeks of it even if unintentionally

[juszar2]

This homosexual spends its time pursuing, soliciting, and propositioning this what the tp self identifies as a "white man" asking him to have her and asking to live my life... I wonder does her family know that she is this sick... I mean they know the felony charges, anything goes lifestyle and no modesty nor dignity, but do they know that it is pursuing a dignified adolescent that grew to be more than it could imagine, it being not 30% of me. Do they know that it spends its time soliciting this "white man" asking to live my life and that While narrating what it calls black love to the community and portraying that it was making a simp out of him and relaying that he was a character who would leave his family because it had superior prostitution skills. I'm sure it knows how I might be regarded... And so life for it is trying hard to compete. Why I do not know, just an obsession. The entire illustration is interesting. When rejected it was even more disrespectful while making effort to "motivate" the tp to let it play a role as me in life... So that others will find it acceptable or worthy more than what it is. It made it a group effort. The very best it has been offered is an acceptance when it solicited the woman that lives as a man for its relationship.. While at the same time have a ball pretending to be me offering its body to the tp and talking yes publicly about what it calls p****. It is treacherous. Telling publicly the woman who lives as a man that it "swears it loves her" and likely telling this tp the same thing... At the exact same time to see if he would have it... And then update the band and they get giddy about any harm that could come to me. It is a fascinating sickness and you'd think they were all 15 years old. They have kids and have no problem with the filth that they are... Cannot even understand that they are filth... Oblivious. That is what they teach how to stalk Those that want then nowhere near their lives. How to use Treachery if ya want to get away and then.. Praise God as if he will be mocked ultimately. It is a sick stew of disgust. Because the homosexual, it narrated and made folk aware... And so if they think positively of the woman I am, they'd have to find it something if it could get the tp to let something like it harm me and play a role. Such success happening of this woman and if the tp would be reduced, it could look like..... Well, something, anything worthy. I have several real ones with their actual names assigned to the assets they pay for and they pursue me to no success. But those are not men that would pursue the homosexual, they know what that is and it is 10 for $1.00. This is the best that this homosexual could do. Try and make a life from my life. And continuously solicit. But I will admit that this tp is lowly... If true, yes. He understands that I will not be okay with being harassed and absolutely we need to understand what he is. Cause if doing this, he does not understand even the basics of life or personhood. And I need to understand this homosexual harassing and pursuing me. Stalking.

Meanwhile the tp who shall be named... Definitely shall. Says anyone who would do such with my stalker enemies would be a scumbag. And he is a white (really only half) Trump voter lauding conservatism and he would not do things like this or deal with these types.. And says none of his friends will believe he is this. They wouldn't believe that having a beautiful dignified woman and the success born of her in family due to her and definitely not an effort of him.... would have him reaching in the garbage to collude with her homosexual enemy stalker and every bit of what that is and brings. But all appearances say.... Yes, this is exactly who and what he who shall be named is. He was never the decent part of the equation.... That was always me, he was just improved by it. But when lowly Sadistic gets the ear of closet lowly, weak and cowardice you see trash from the side of town that he keeps telling me he might of by happenstance resided in. If you are not trash.... It will come to pursue you... If you are well then "you cool"

[kdramafeminist]

Performative Badassery & Women in Kdramas

When I said I wrote an essay, I meant essay. This is a long one! Grab a snack and venture below the read more. I’ll see you at the end!

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You know the feeling. The drama begins. Our female main lead walks onto screen. She’s a successful businesswoman, a hotshot detective, clever lawyer, smartass retail worker, etc, etc. She stares down a random man to prove she’s the powerful one here. Or kicks some ass. Or rattles off a bunch of demands to her workers. Or talks fast to show off her intelligence.

Then she meets the male lead. There’re fireworks. Slowly we find our female lead has a softer side. Good to know. 3-dimensional and complex characters are important. It’s nice to see women on-screen who are both capable and emotional. Kick ass and feminine. 

But slowly... something starts to go wrong. She seems to be crying more than showing literally any other kind of emotion. And is it just me or is she getting saved and manhandled and flustered quite a lot for a woman who we were told was so well put together? Sure, the circumstances are extreme. But they’re extreme for the male lead too and he seems to be managing just fine for some reason. Also, if both of them are ordinary people with no on-screen fighting experience, how come he’s so great at throwing fists out of nowhere and she’s busy keeping hidden or needing rescuing? Exactly how many times can one person just faint like that without anyone checking to see if she has a medical condition?

By the drama’s end our lead has gone through trials and tribulations. She’s fallen in love too, I’m happy for her. But... now that the story’s ending and she’s getting in one last chance to show us she’s a “badass”, why am I left feeling hollow? She’s showing us how tough she is but... we ALL spent this whole drama watching her have absolutely no agency or such a little amount that she might as well have been trying to put out a fire with a water-pistol. It’s almost like her previous badassery (in whatever form it may have been - I don’t mean badass only in terms of being able to throw a good punch) was just a façade. A way to hook in female viewers like me who want to see something more than a wilting wallflower or one-trick Cinderella. But the tiniest knock and the cardboard house collapses.

And no matter how many times we get throwaway lines about her being “the smartest/toughest/scariest/most capable one here” it doesn’t ring true compared to the actual character we’re watching.

Rom-coms, melos and sagueks especially (but many more genres besides), have a real problem when it comes to performative badassery in their female characters. The writers give us a female lead they claim is hyper competent, but the reality is totally different. Any plot that features romance, almost always features this. Honestly the way the start of the relationship in dramas actively MURDERS the female character’s agency could be its own essay so I won’t go deep, just know the two are 100% linked.

The “Faux Action Girl” Problem 

A Faux Action Girl happens when a writer wants the popularity that comes with having a cool action girl character, or they want the praise that comes with writing a lead that breaks gender norms, or they want to be lauded for writing a FL whose more capable & progressive than the female kdrama lead we’d imagine, but they don’t end up actually giving us her. Instead we get the fake or faux version. The reasons are usually a combination of:

Relying on outdated tropes. Wrist grabs, damsels in distress, a girl fainting so she misses some vital plot related moment to increase runtime etc...

Sexist worldviews. As a by-product of being Korean which is still a heavily sexist country because of the holdover of Confucianism mixed in with the Christianity westerners brought over that leads many writers to (often without even realising) inserting moments that inadvertently reduce their female leads because they think that’s what correct or natural for the female character based on their opinion of women in general. Even if it doesn’t actually fit the type of character they’ve set out to create.

Executive meddling. Producers who think their demographic wouldn’t be able to handle a real badass but also know their female viewers want more complexity and agency in their FLs these days and so give us the paper-version instead of the 3D model.

This character’s more “badass” traits are nearly always just an Informed Ability (the writers tell us via other characters what she can do but never actually show us on-screen these same things) or we only ever see her utilise them once/twice at the beginning and maybe if we’re lucky once at the end, but never again. 

It really hurts.

The “Badass Decay/Chickification” Problem

Sometimes she really is a legitimate action girl though. She’ll be a cop whose good at her job or an ordinary citizen whose well-versed in taekwondo. She has actual moments on-screen to prove herself. 

Well. She has moments in episodes 1 and 2. Then she almost always goes through Badass Decay/Chickification. Which means that writers (& producers) believe that if we don’t see her having a softer side, she’ll become unrealistic or unlikeable. 

They fix her. So she becomes more vulnerable. As the only girl on the team (usually), she becomes the one who ends up injured more often or needs rescuing most. Her life begins to revolve entirely around her romance and nothing else. (Meanwhile the male leads gets to have the romance and keep his side-quest - have you noticed that? If the FL is really lucky she gets to keep one side-quest too, maybe a dream job or solving some family mystery. Never more though.. only men get to be complicated here). Once she was competent... now it feels like she legitimately had a personality transplant. 

Is this even the same person we began with?

The “Worf Effect” Problem 

Worf Effect is when the danger/power level of a villain is shown to the audience by making him successfully attack/hurt/ruin the plans of someone that the audience knows is skilled. This isn’t a bad thing alone and writers use it all the time. We need to acknowledge the villain as a proper threat and this is a useful way to do it!

But in kdramas it’s something used almost always against the lead female character. The one we’ve seen is intelligent, or strong-willed or quick-witted. 

And because it’s always her, this character begins to look weak. If this writing trope is abused, her reputation as the "biggest, toughest" etc. begins to look like it never existed and we’re back to her having an informed ability. 

That this is something that happens to the female characters not only more often but almost exclusively is a sign of sexism. Plain and simple.

Competent, Real Badass Female Characters Aren’t Scary

 If you’re going to sell me a capable woman, give me her. 

Not someone who has one very unique, specialised skill but otherwise can do nothing else except for that one time when her one skill is useful. 

Or has built up her own empire, implying a certain level of smarts, business ability or networking skills, but then once she’s removed from it she becomes so utterly useless it begs the question how she built that empire in the first place. 

Or has a rep as the detective whose taken down the toughest guys off-screen, but whatever skills she used to do that seem to disappear the moment anything really challenging happens on-screen. 

I’m not saying she needs to win all the time. Of course she doesn’t, how boring is that? All I’m asking is that when she loses, it’s in keeping with the character I’m supposedly watching. A woman that can kick ass can still be outwitted. A clever woman can be physically beaten. A street-smart girl can be foiled by rules and regulations. A leader-type can be beat by someone whose more unconventional.

It’s not difficult to write someone like this. I know the writers can do it because every male lead is written this way. I’ve never once, whilst watching a badass male lead lose, get beaten and cry, thought “oh no, his badassery was fake all along!”

Because when he loses it makes sense. It’s in character. There’s a solid plot reason behind why it happens.

Meanwhile my ladies who are meant to be able to kick ass and take names somehow just got kidnapped out of nowhere?

Make it make sense!

Consistent Characterisation is Good Writing

I get wanting moments where one is injured and the other fusses over them. I love those moments! All I ask is more imagination taken to get us to that point. Make it in-character. If my taekwondo black belt is kidnapped, I want to see her really fight. I want the kidnapping to be shown as genuinely tough on the people trying to nab her. Imagine how much more satisfying it would be to see her fight off all these bad guys, yet still end up losing? How much more heart-breaking?

We’d be so much more invested in the mind games or politics the villain is playing if the female lead we’ve been told is good at that stuff is playing the game just as hard. When she loses it’ll hurt more.

Writers need to stop being afraid that her remaining capable in some way diminishes the masculinity, attractiveness, prowess or “hero” status of the male lead. Trust me. It doesn’t. Ever. 

It’s not a case of either/or. We don’t think less of the male lead because his partner is as capable as him in whatever way that may be. Instead, we think more of them both. Once a romance begins, the heightened worry both characters have for each other should only make both of them stronger in whatever area they’re skill lies in. Not just make the man a sudden defence wall and the woman a worrying mess. 

I’m sure everyone who reads this can immediately think of at least one drama with a FL who is a Performative Badass. I know I had about ten in mind as I wrote this. 

There are exceptions. Cases where the badass gets to stay a badass. Usually these cases happen in genres without romance because like I said above, those problems are linked. But I can think of a few romcoms/sageuks/melos where it happens too. 

But those are the minority.

Women in kdramas. Give them agency. Make their characterisation genuine, not just a bit-part for the sake of a cool trailer. Not just one moment someone can edit into a “badass multifemale” video edit - only for us to watch the drama from the clip and discover we’ve been sold a lie. 

How satisfied would we be?

Writers! Give us a story we enjoyed because of the excellent characterisation. A new female character we can add to our lists of faves. Women who proved themselves as consistently badass as their first scenes claimed. Women in kdramas who, no matter what problem they faced, don’t become echoes or paper-thin versions of who we were promised.

Actual, complex, layered, enjoyable, KICK-ASS AND BADASS female leads.

Wouldn’t that be a miracle.

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PS. This is an open notice that it’s OKAY to reblog with added commentary/thoughts/rambles of your own. I would *love* to see it if you have anything to add.

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(Disclaimer: This essay was written with a specific female character type in mind. I am not saying every FL needs to be a badass or hyper competent. Soft, shy, physically weak female characters exist and can be just as realistic and complex. There’s a few I can think of who I adore. Instead my essay is very specifically about characters who are *meant* to be badass from the start but then... don’t end up being. So, yeah, before anyone claims I’m some angry feminist who needs every FL to be some tough martial artist or something. Absolutely not! Diversity is amazing and interesting. All I ask is that when I am told I’ll be getting a badass in a drama I get her. Not have my heart broken by the fake wilting flower I find in her place. Ok. End disclaimer. ^^)

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Also I’m tagging a bunch of you because you reblogged my post saying you wanted this so here! TY for making it to the end ^^

@kdramaxoxo​ @islandsofchaos @storytellergirl @vernalagnia-blog @lostindramas @salaamdreamer​ @planb-is-in-effect​ 

#kdrama #kdrama discourse #kdrama feminist #women in kdrama #badass women #strong female lead #though to be clear I am an angry feminist lmfao #how does a woman living in this world not be tbh

[pines-troz]

Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Cinderella AU

I’ve been playing around with this idea for a while, and I wanna share my ideas for a Cinderella AU involving the cast of Animaniacs. And since there’s been a great surge in fun Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain AUs based off of Disney movies (The wonderful Brainladdin AU by @deez-art and the sweet Beauty and the Beast AU by @themurphyzone), I’d figure that I’d showcase my ideas for a Cinderella AU!

Pinky - Cinderella

Brain - Prince Charming (Has a lot more character and agency in this AU)

Dot - The Fairy Godmother 

CEO Norita - Lady Tremaine/The Wicked Stepmother

Katie Ka-Boom - Drizella/Stepsister #1

Elmyra - Anastasia/Stepsister #2 (I was originally gonna put Mindy in this role, but she’s just a toddler who doesn’t know any better. Elmyra, on the other hand, is the worst and she’s much better suited for the role)

Yakko and Wakko - The Grand Dukes (They’re essentially Brain’s support group in this AU, trying to cheer him up and doling out terrible romantic advice)

Plotz- The King

Bobby, Squit, Pesto  - Jacques and Gus (Since Pinky’s already a mouse, he takes care of the birds that fly by the house, feeding them leftover food and making them shirts and hats)

Rita, Runt, Buttons, Pharfignewton - Various animals that reside by the manor

Pinky’s early childhood were years of happiness spent with his mom, dad and sis. But his mom and sis perished, and his dad remarries to CEO Norita, who feigns affection for Pinky but treats him like dirt when his dad isn’t around. Her daughters, Katie and Elmyra aren’t much better, especially Elmyra who takes great joy in torturing Pinky. After his dad dies of an illness, Pinky is reduced to servant status, and is constantly tending to the needs of his stepmother and stepsisters. 

Despite the terrible circumstances, Pinky remains kind, optimistic and resiliently hopeful. He is very caring towards the animals he cares for, and even makes clothes for the birds who drop by his window. He also sings a lot while doing chores, which lifts his spirits and charms the animals.

Meanwhile, at the royal castle, Brain returns home after graduating summa cum laude from a foreign university. Now that he competed his studies, he eagerly wants to get back to his plans of taking over the world, but his father, Plotz, decides to give him ‘the talk’ so to speak and berates him on why he doesn’t have a girlfriend or any grandkids. Brain dismisses this as trivial malarkey, reminds him that he’s bisexual, and states that his plans for world domination are more important, ending his rant with a good “I don’t owe you anything old man!” before storming off in a huff. Yakko and Wakko joke about how they’d have to drag Brain to a party should he want to date someone, which unwittingly inspires Plotz to hold a royal ball for all potential suitors for Brain.

Brain goes into his room, which is full of blueprints and potential plans for world domination. While he doesn’t want to get married, he wishes to find someone who is supportive of his vision and ambitions.

While completing his chores, Pinky answers the door to find Yakko and Wakko handing out invitations for a royal ball, calling for all eligible single people to attend. Pinky is absolutely thrilled at the idea of going to a ball and having a night off, and he plans his free time to make a dress for himself. Norita, Katie, and Elmyra catch wind of Pinky’s excitement for the ball and decide to do everything possible to prevent him from going.

Pinky is halfway done with his dress, but Norita piles on another batch of chores for him to complete, in addition to tending to Katie’s needs and ‘playing’ with Elmyra. The animals see this great injustice and have a group meeting, and decide to put in a team effort to finish the dress for Pinky to repay him for all the kindness he has given them. Bobby, Squit and Pesto rummage through the house to find jewelry for the dress while Rita, Runt, Buttons and Pharfignewton focus on sewing. When Pinky comes back to his room, he’s astounded to find his dress complete, with the animals standing by. Pinky stands there speechless and utterly grateful for their kindness. He eagerly thanks them for their help and quickly changes into the dress.

When it’s time to leave for the ball, Pinky comes down the stairs in his homemade dress, clearly excited to attend the ball. Norita stares at Pinky and mocks him for even thinking about attending the ball. She yanks off Pinky’s necklace, then Katie and Elmyra proceed to rip his dress to shreds until it’s nothing but rags. When Norita, Katie and Elmyra leave the manor, Pinky is absolutely devastated that all of his hopes for a fun night were so cruelly dashed in a single moment. He flees to the courtyard and starts sobbing, saying that he was a fool for even having dreams. The animals all look on forlornly, helpless to even try to comfort Pinky. 

During Pinky’s lowest point, Dot heeds his call, arriving in a ball of light before materializing into her physical form, comforting Pinky as he cries. When he realizes that he is being consoled, Pinky looks up and is surprised to see Dot hugging him. She explains that she’s his Fairy Godmother and that she will help him prepare for the ball. She first turns an empty spool into a carriage. She then turns Bobby, Squint, Pesto, and Buttons into horses, Pharfignewton into the driver, and Rita and Runt into footwoman and footman respectively. Dot finally turns Pinky’s ruined dress into a beautiful sparkling silver gown with glass slippers. Dot warns Pinky that the spell will be broken by midnight, and she then tells him to have a good time at the ball. 

When it’s time for the ball, Brain is already busy building his latest invention for his intricate plot for global conquest. Plotz interrupts his plans, demanding his presence at the ball, but Brain refuses to go to the party. Yakko and Wakko have to physically drag Brain to attend the ball, who is just clawing at the carpets like “I don’t wanna go, you can’t make me!” He takes his seat on the throne while all the eligible suitors drop by. Brain is bored out of his mind. And he doesn’t even try to hide it, he is like a bored kid whose parent just ran into a friend at the store and is like “can I go home now!?”. Brain even gives Plotz sour looks from time to time to express his disinterest in the ball. Yakko and Wakko try to encourage Brain to at least have fun at the ball. Rolling his eyes, Brain He excuses himself to get some drinks from the refreshments table. 

Pinky arrives at the ball and everyone is captivated by his beauty. He walks in the ballroom and is just spellbound by the pristine surroundings, and he bumps into Brain, not knowing that he’s the Prince. Brain takes one look at Pinky and is immediately enamored by him. The two talk for a while, and Brain looks over his shoulder and sees Yakko and Wakko gesturing that they should hit the dance floor, so he asks Pinky for a dance, and he eagerly accepts. 

Pinky and Brain dance around the ballroom, capturing the interest of everyone, including Plotz. Norita, Katie and Elmyra look at Pinky and they don’t recognize him due to Dot’s magic sparking from his dress. The mice then make their escape to the gardens and they get to know each other. Pinky talks about his home life (but downplays the abuse he endures), but talks about how he wants to live a simple life in a nice house surrounded by loved ones, which deeply humbles the Prince. Brain talks about his ambitions for taking over the world and how he could make things better under his rule, and Pinky admires him. Brain muses to himself that Pinky is the perfect person to have by his side when planning to take over the world. But before Brain could make a proposal, the clock strikes midnight. 

Pinky looks at the clock, remembering that the spell would be broken. Pinky apologizes to Brain and says that he has to return home. Brain follows him and sees Pinky rush down the stairs, losing one of his glass slippers. Brain tries to pursue Pinky as fast as he can, but he’s a total klutz and falls down the stairs. By the time Pinky returns home everything his dress is back in rags and the animals return to their original forms. But Pinky realizes that the glass slipper on his right foot is still on and keeps it as a souvenir.

When Brain wakes up, he suffers from short-term amnesia. He has memories of dancing and conversing with Pinky, but he forgot his name. The only evidence he has to go by is the glass slipper he found. Brain decides to launch an investigation to find his mystery date, but Plotz forbids him to leave. Brain re-enacts that one funny moment from Cinderella 3 by jumping out from the window and going off on his own. Yakko and Wakko decide to accompany him, but Plotz warns that if they don’t find Brain’s suitor he plans of executing them. While the three are off in town, Brain converses with Yakko and Wakko and realizes how flawed his plan is and says “wait a minute, anyone could fit into this shoe. what if the wrong person tries it one first?” And Yakko goes “well, then that’s your problem chief,”

Pinky returns to his usual routine of completing chores for his stepmother and stepsister. Norita sees Pinky singing a song and swaying around in a waltz. She realizes that Pinky was the one dancing with the Prince. Katie and Elmyra spot Brain, Yakko, and Wakko from the window, and Pinky is eager to see Brain again, thinking that he’s dropping by for a friendly visit. Norita grabs Pinky, shoves him into his room, locking him in. 

Brain sees the two stepsisters and realizes that they don’t fit the shoe, but they insist on trying it on anyways (which backfires).

Instead of trying to retrieve the key, The Goodfeathers decide to help out by flying Pinky down from his room out the window. After some slight issues trying to carry Pinky, they safely lower him to the ground. 

Brain, Yakko, and Wakko are about to leave, feeling hopeless over their fruitless search for Brain’s love interest. They open the door to find Pinky standing outside, who’s clearly happy to see Brain again. Norita scoffs at this, but Brain decides that Pinky would be a good fit for the shoe and asks him if he wants to try it on. Pinky eagerly accepts, thinking it’s some sort of game. Wakko runs in with the glass slipper on a satin pillow, but Norita trips him with her cane. Brain is heartbroken that the last evidence he has of his mystery date had been shattered. Pinky consoles him and offers him the other glass slipper like “I have a spare glass slipper if you want to have it.” and Brain puts two and two together and realizes that it was Pinky. Brain kneels down and offers Pinky his glass slipper, who graciously tries it on. The shoe fits.

After an unspecified amount of time, Pinky and Brain get married, and Plotz is happy that Brain is hitched so he could get grandkids. But instead of having human grandkids, Pinky brings along the animals from the manor to live with them in the castle.

The End

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #brinky #patb au

[wetalkinboutbooks]

Reaper of Souls by Rena Barron

Summary: After so many years yearning for the gift of magic, Arrah has the one thing she’s always wanted—at a terrible price. Now the last surviving witchdoctor, she’s been left to pick up the shattered pieces of a family that betrayed her, a kingdom in shambles, and long-buried secrets about who she is. 

Desperate not to repeat her mother’s mistakes, Arrah must return to the tribal lands to search for help from the remnants of her parents’ people. But the Demon King’s shadow looms closer than she thinks. And as Arrah struggles to unravel her connection to him, defeating him begins to seem more and more impossible—if it’s something she can bring herself to do at all.

Set in a richly imagined world inspired by spine-tingling tales of voodoo and folk magic, Kingdom of Souls was lauded as “masterful” by the School Library Journal in a starred review. This explosively epic sequel will have readers racing to the can’t-miss conclusion. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:  

 → Geena:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️🌗

 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: A messy sequel to an amazing series, we get to see the after effects of the fall out of Arrah vs. Efiya from KOS… and when we tell you it is MESS!!!

~Spoiler-Full Review Below~

The Good: 

→ Arrah and Dimma

Geena: One of my favourite things about Reaper was the sprinkle of Dimma’s POVs throughout the story. We got an insight into Dimma’s life before she was Arrah, and how her relationship with the other Orisha and Daho developed. It also really helped build up the suspense near the end and set up plot twists that clocked us near the end. Dimma aside, let’s talk about Arrah. Rena Barron said brooding boys are out, brooding girls are IN! And you know what, we love to read it. The story starts off with Arrah trying to save Sukkar after she snapped all his bones while trying to save him, and she does save him :) Or so she thinks but that’s besides the point. Over the length of the book we follow Arrah’s inner turmoil of suddenly having the power of 10 tribal chieftains and being insecure about whether or not she even deserves it.

I loved Arrah, even when she was holding herself up to a terribly high bar and beating herself up about everything she did. Arrah helped bring her Auntie back from the dead and was like “Damn I suck :/” and thought shattering a girl’s glass (who was flirting with Rudjek) put her on the same level as her mom and Efiya. I was sitting there like NO GIRL YOU’RE PERFECT, YOU, YOUR MISSING TOOTH AND YOUR PETTY NATURE!! 

Kae: YAAAAAAAAAS! Geena summed Arrah and Dimma up perfectly. 

But I would like to add how much I love Arrah and how selfless she is. She’s always thinking about her friends and their safety, the safety of the tribal people, and of course the kingdom. She’s a worry woman, but for all the right reasons. And she also cares about herself; so much even that like Geena said, she beats herself up for the smallest of things. She’s so worried about being evil like her mother and her sister, that she calculates every single move that she makes, debating if it’s really worth it to use strong magic or not. 

As for Dimma, I loved her POV’S. She is a complex character who has been demonized since book 1. We were taught to believe, through the POV of some of the Gods, that Dimma was a horrible Goddess who wrought nothing but chaos. They erased her name from history, LITERALLY. And Dimma became known as the Unnamed Orisha. While reading her POV, we learn that Dimma was quite selfless, much like Arrah (since they are technically the same person). Dimma was full of love and loved even harder. She went out of her way to give Daho immortality as well as his people, because she loved them so much. She defied the rules of the universe for her love, and it only came to bite her in the ass in the end. Like her siblings told her, “A God’s love is a dangerous thing.” And it was, but not exactly for the reasons one might think.

Geena:  Kae’s summary of Dimma and Arrah is AMAZING, you know my ability to connect dots when reading is kinda shit so reading Kae’s summary gave me realization…  Arrah tries so hard to separate herself from Dimma, because she refuses to believe that a part of her is in love with Daho because she herself is in love with Rudjek… but it’s like girl… you have travelled to the ends of the earth to fight and bring back the people you love (the tribespeople) just like Dimma searched the ends of the universe for immortality to give to Daho. It’d be much easier to reconcile your feelings if you just accepted that “Okay, I may have been Dimma but now I am Arrah”

Also another thing I love about Arrah is how she had…. For a time… three dudes in love with her… or at least what she thought was three dudes. Real hot girl shit. 

→ Rudjek and Daho

Geena: You know the character archetype that’s like a snarky boy who knows he’s hot shit and acts accordingly, but when it comes to the person he’s in love with he’s just a bowl of mush. That’s Rudjek, and only Rudjek can pull it off. In KOS, he was slated to be the next vizier because of his father, in Reaper he’s known as a prince because his dad snaked his way into becoming the monarch. So, now he’s the snarky prince…. And the only snarky prince with rights! His POVs were actually so fun to read, like following the politics of the Kingdom and him dealing with his new craven powers…. Which also had him being able to smell pheromones when people were doing the dirty around him 😭

I really liked that Rena gave him a POV, because now we get to see how he develops given the fact that him and Arrah are dangerous to one another, because he saps her magic with a single touch and could kill her. The whole time Arrah is stressing like “Damn, what if he doesn’t like me anymore because we can’t touch” meanwhile Rudjek is like “I’ll fight the Gods if I have to, to keep her by my side” and it’s like 🥺Also, who let a teenager be in control of a whole army… I thought the vizier was a sly and smart man but I digress… Another thing I liked about Rudjek in this book was that he didn’t shy away from uncomfortable conversations with Arrah, regarding the fact that he confused Efiya for Arrah when they did the unspeakable in the clearing in KOS. Like, that was very mature of them and I’m glad they could deal with that misunderstanding… But… hands down… my favourite scene… During the climax of the book Rudjek gets a demon soul shoved down his body, and immediately assumes it’s the demon king…. And his only command to his friends is to not let him near Arrah😭😭😭 I was like PEAK ROMANCE, SOFTEST SHIT, SACRIFICIAL LOVER!!!!! 

Kae: SO GEENA SUMMED UP RUDJEK SO DAMN WELL. LIKE DUDE OMG? Correct. He is perfect. I really don’t have much to add but I just genuinely loved him as a character. He is caring for both Arrah and his friends. He is also one of the few male characters I’ve read that actively tries to go against their father. Most dudes in books are like “Fine puhpa, I shall do your evil bidding.” But Rudjek is like “Sike bitch, I’ll let you think that but I’m doing what I WAAAANT!” 

But okay, let’s talk about Daho. So first off, I love him??? Am I a villain sympathizer now? Tbh, I don’t really see him as a villain. Man’s didn’t commit a genocide or try to scheme Arrah out of her pants. AND HE VERY MUCH HAD THE CHANCE TO and he was like “nah.” And I appreciate that. Because there are a few certain villainous men who I shan’t name, that be on that scant shit. And Daho is just like… genuinely trying to avenge his wife’s death (Dimma) and try to get Arrah to remember that she is Dimma. 

YES, I know he got Arti to bring him back. BUUUUUT, he didn’t tell her to kill a bunch of kids and shit to do it. Arti did all that evil shit on her own and Daho was like “look, i don’t condone that shit. But it’s over and I’m sorry it happened but I can’t change it.” And I’m like… okay, mood. I get it. Daho is sweet and caring. He looked out for Arrah in *redacted’s* body because we didn’t know *redacted* was dead the whole time. And even then, Daho was still like “My bad… But he wasn’t using his body??? So I took it???” Why let it go to waste, amiright? 

Geena: STOOOOP FOR REAL HE WAS LIKE “It was empty, I didn’t think you’d mind” 

Kae: LMAOOO OKAY BUT DEADASS. And like, idk man. He just seriously isn’t a bad person. He was trapped because after the God’s killed Dimma, he was like “BET IMMA JUST KILL THEM” and they lowkey were shook so they trapped his ass in a box for a millenia or whatever. He wasn’t even out to kill all humanity or anything. The God’s were just being some haters and now he’s suddenly the bad guy. Anyway, we stan Daho in this house. 

Geena: Daho is how you write a sympathetic villain. He owns up to his own mistakes even while his demons run free terrorizing people. Kae said it best that he just wants justice for his wife and unfortunately history is written by the victors so the Orisha painted him out to be a bad guy… My dude was just chugging that respecting my wife juice and they killed her… and he also thinks they killed his son… Guess me and Kae are just villain sympathizers now 

The Bad:   

→ The Ending 

Kae: Okay, let’s get it. And I also just want to clarify that when we say “the bad”, we don’t mean we hate it. This is just something that was like “oh fuck, this is BAAAAD! THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GO DOOOWN.” 

But like, good Lord. The ending? That shit was crazy. First of all, we find out that *redacted* aka, SUKKAR. OUR SWEET, PLAYFUL, SARCASTIC SUKKAR. IS DEAD. HE HAS BEEN DEAD THIS WHOLE TIME!? Excuse me while I *SCREEEEEEEEEEEAM*. Like, what an unforeseen twist. This mf kicked the bucket back in KOS when Arrah tried to save him. Turns out… She maybe… Totally… possibly… Absolutely killed my guy on accident. He dead-dead. And this is how we find out that Daho took over his body, once Sukkar’s spirit ascended. It was a really sad reveal and my heart kind of hurt reading it. I straight up wasn’t expecting that to happen. THEEEEEN. GOTDAMN EFIYA. IS BROUGHT BACK. 

Geena: No joke, the ending of Reaper was just one sucker punch followed by another… At first you think Tyrek (the prince from KOS who joins Arrah and her crew on a journey to save the tribespeople) is the demon king, then you think it’s Rudjek because he’s getting possessed, and then you learn it’s Sukkar… The final punch to the gut was Daho bringing back Efiya because his close general asked for her… because she’s his daughter. We were like, DAHO ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU SAW THE DAMAGE SHE DID TO THE HUMANS!!! Like Efiya may have grown quickly in a few months but her brain isn’t fully developed, like that girl is UNHINGED!!! I thought we were done with the Efiya chapter but here we are, and I’m scared to see what role she’ll play in the final instalment of the series. I guess this is the case of bringing back an old villain that can work out really well…  I trusted Rena with the messy Arrah/Daho/Rudjek love triangle, so I trust her with this too 

The Ugly:  

→ Tyrek 

Geena: Remember how I said Rudjek is the only valid snarky prince… Yea, Tyrek can CHOKE!! In KOS he sides with Efiya and she wreaks havoc in the Kingdom, and in Reaper he’s brought to his knees. Rudjek’s dad wants to execute him for his crimes, but Arrah sympathizes with him because she knows how Efiya’s mind control worked. As you read, you get a sense of “Okay, maybe he isn’t bad, he’s helping Arrah and them” but then you get to the climax and you’re like okay nvm this boy was insane… Imagine travelling to a whole other dimension and making deals with demons, because you’re in a fucked up sort of romance with a half-demon girl. He managed to lie to Arrah that he was being controlled by Efiyah, when he was really with Efiya the whole way…. Even when she told him to murder his whole family… this man was vile!! He’s also one of our first fake outs, when he pretends to be the demon king I was kinda disappointed… I was like no this ruins the messy love triangle I’ve been waiting for! But it was just a fake out, Tyrek was just trying to scare Arrah into freeing Efiya, whose soul was in the demon dagger that Arrah used to kill her in KOS. Overall, 1/10 for this man… the 1 point is for when he figured out “Sukkar” had a crush on Arrah before Arrah even knew.  

Conclusion 

Kae: So, I don't have much to add to Tyrek’s snake ass. He really was ugly in the end. I’m glad he’s dead. 

But to conclude, this was such an amazing, refreshing read. Reaper of Souls was a wonderful sequel to Kingdom of Souls. Rena writes so beautifully and she didn’t hesitate to have us readers shaking in our boots. Getting more background information on Dimma, the Gods, and their old ass war, was really fun and insightful! IT added to the story in a way I hadn’t even thought about until I was consuming it all! 

Arrah and Rudjek are perfect angels and I can’t wait to see where book three leads them. I also want to give a shout out to Essnai and Majka for being such good friends to Arrah and Rudjek. Same to Kira and the Cravens. This is a really close knit group of friends who will go to the ends of the Earth (and literally new dimensions) for each other. THAT’S LOVE, BITCH. And we LOVE to see it. 

Geena: For real! Rena Barron set up such an amazing cast of characters, and she really emphasizes the power of friendship in her series and it’s one of my favourite things to read. With Reaper, from the very start, she sets up the story in such a way you’re literally screaming by the end… I think it requires a special kind of skill to be able to set up a story so well that while you do make predictions about what’s going to happen, it still shocks you when you realize you’re right. Cannot wait to see the absolute mess that will be the final book, with Rudjek/Arrah vs. Daho… and the drama it will bring now that the Orishas realize that Arrah is Dimma’s reincarnation.  

#Reaper of Souls #Rena Barron #YA #Kingdom of Souls #booklr #book review #wetalkinboutbooks #bookish #book blogging #book blogger #books #reading #Arrah #Rudjek #our post

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday: Rose the Prude

Rose starts a new chapter of her life in her first starring episode, and Golden Girls has its first frank, serious discussion about our ladies’ sex lives.

Picture It...

Dorothy and Sophia are playing a game of gin rummy on the lanai, when Blanche comes out with a problem -- her date has unexpectedly invited his brother and she needs to find a fourth person to make it a double. She asks Dorothy (and gently rebuffs a willing Sophia), but Dorothy is determined to win a game of gin against her mother after 30 years of losses.

Rose comes out to the lanai, and Blanche immediately asks her to go on the double-date. Rose initially resists, as she’s lost interest in dating since her husband Charlie died 15 years ago, but relents when Blanche pleads. Rose complains that dating isn’t fun, whereas Dorothy will have fun beating her mother at cards. Sophia of course lays down a winning hand at that remark.

That night, Blanche returns from the date just as Dorothy takes another loss. At Blanche’s remark that playing gin obviously makes her upset, Dorothy refuses to play with Sophia anymore. Sophia knows that’s not going to last long.

SOPHIA: You’ll be back. You know why? You’re too competitive. It’s always been your worst feature. Actually, your ears are your worst feature. But competitive is right up there!

When a delighted Rose walks in, Dorothy asks how the date went, and Rose effuses that she had a great time with her beau Arnie. Blanche’s date, Jeffrey, turned out to be a bore. Rose is going on another date with Arnie, while Blanche has to be reminded that she knows many other more interesting men.

Later, the girls notice that Rose and Arnie (played by future recurring cast member Harold Gould) are becoming very close, but Rose is distressed. Arnie’s asked her to go away on a romantic cruise -- and Rose hasn’t been intimate with anyone since Charlie, her only lover, died. Dorothy and Blanche encourage her to go on the cruise, and give herself the chance.

Rose is a bundle of nerves in the stateroom, though Arnie tries to put her at ease by slow-dancing to Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade.” This brings back memories of Charlie, and Rose starts telling Arnie that he reminds her of Charlie. Arnie reminds her that he isn’t Charlie, and Rose says she likes him for who he is. But one kiss and Rose is running to the bathroom like a scared rabbit.

Back at home, the girls are speculating on how Rose is doing, and discuss how long it took them after their respective husbands died or left for them to get back on the wagon. Blanche made eyes at the minister performing her husband’s funeral service, though the consummation left something to be desired. Dorothy hooked up with her divorce lawyer, and comments that it was a terrible time for her. To demonstrate to Blanche how the ravages of age take their toll, she tells her to lean over a mirror and look at her own face. Blanche is suitably horrified.

The next morning, Rose apologizes to Arnie for chickening out. Arnie understands and relates his own struggles with grief after his wife Molly died. He eventually got on with his life when his daughter pointed out that’s what Molly would have wanted. Rose concedes Charlie would probably want the same for her. Arnie tells her he’s alright with whatever makes her comfortable, and she tentatively asks him to hold her.

Meanwhile, Sophia admits to Dorothy she never played gin for the game, but because she likes the conversation they have while they play. Rose returns, Blanche and Sophia want to interrogate her on whether she fooled around, but it’s Dorothy who breaks first and asks her outright. Rose plays coy, but then reveals they did -- and she’s overjoyed that she can move on to the next part of her romantic life. The episode ends with Dorothy and Sophia playing cards, swapping stories.

“Oh back off, Blanche. Not all of us are classified by the Navy as a friendly port.”

After Blanche and Dorothy had their own spotlight episodes, it’s time for Rose to have her moment in the sun. GG does this neat little trick of assigning subject matter to the character who, at the surface, doesn’t necessarily seem best suited to it -- and then making it work anyway. So it’s fitting that the first episode that seriously addresses sex is a Rose-centric episode.

One of the things Golden Girls has always been (rightly) lauded for is the way it handles sexual and romantic topics, especially as they pertain to seniors. After all, your life doesn’t end just because you get old, or are widowed, and this show handles that with grace and honesty. Well, with Blanche the “grace” part is questionable, but you take my meaning.

While later revelations show that Rose might be far more experienced than Blanche given how close she and Charlie were (and, according to Betty White, Rue McClanahan enjoyed pointing that out behind the scenes), the first impression she’s given on the show is rather chaste compared to Blanche. Add in that she’s also a widow, and it makes her the perfect candidate for an episode about putting yourself back out there and moving on with your life.

If there’s one thing about this episode that looks especially pleasant through a modern lens, it’s the gentle way both the girls and Arnie talk to Rose about her sex life (Blanche’s shock over her 15-year dry spell notwithstanding). Dorothy doesn’t tell her to sleep with Arnie, but to go on the cruise and at least give herself the option -- she can always back out if the situation isn’t right. And they outright cheer for her when she confirms she did play “find the cannoli.” The show offers many examples of how a healthy, supportive friendship should work, and this is one of the first and strongest.

Arnie, for his part, is a total gentleman: He doesn’t push Rose, does his best to make her comfortable, and sympathizes with her feelings for her late husband. In short, he behaves exactly the way Rose needs her paramour to behave if she’s going to get her groove back on her terms. It’s kind of wonderful to watch, even if one does cringe at Arnie saying he “patted a few bottoms” while married. 80s mentality, Rachel, 80s mentality.

This is the first time the show has had a B-plot to keep the non-spotlight characters busy. Blanche serves her part in the A-plot, the one about Rose and Arnie, by setting it in motion. This leaves Sophia and Dorothy without much to do, so they have their own story centering around their longstanding rummy rivalry.

This is the episode where Sophia first gets to show her teeth – you can definitely see where Dorothy gets her’s from. Up to now she’s been a sort of caustic side character who existed to puncture dramatic moments with a comment she didn’t realize was too blunt. Here we get our first real glimpse of her as the witty, clever, somewhat devious woman we all know and love.

The timing is a little bit wonky, as they keep repeating throughout the episode that Rose has been a widow for 15 years, while the other girls’ marriages have only been over for a few years. Given Rose is roughly Dorothy’s age, she either married around the same age as Dorothy (not likely) or her marriage was much shorter than she’s led anyone to believe, but at the beginning she says she a “long and happy marriage.” But that’s a relatively minor quibble, even for me.

Episode rating: Three cheesecakes out of five... maybe I can make emoji work? 🍰🍰🍰

Favorite Part of the Episode

DOROTHY: Only on your back, Blanche. That way everything slides back and you look like you just had a facelift. BLANCHE: (leaning back and looking up at her mirror) Oh, you’re right. I’m gorgeous. I’m going to have to meet men lying down. SOPHIA: I thought you did.

#stay golden sunday #golden girls #stay golden #rose nylund #dorothy zbornak #sophia petrillo #blanche devereaux #s01e03 #rose the prude

[docholligay]

The Time Traveler’s Bullshit

@katrani comissioned me to write out my full review of The Time Traverler’s Wife, my most hated book of the year thus far, and I feel like it won’t be dethroned. nearly 3,000 words and I skipped a whole section I was going to write about, ENJOY

Three dollars and ninety nine cents will buy you a Big Mac. It will buy you four hours of downtown parking in my city. Three dollars and ninety-nine cents will buy you a latte made with burnt coffee at Starbucks. For Three dollars and ninety-nine cents, I can get a can of terrible beer and have a dollar left over for tip. All of which would have been a better choice than what I ultimately spent that three dollars and ninety-nine cents on, which was this book. 

I am careful to read hyped books out of their time, so that I’m not influenced by something that has been so lauded no book could ever hope to reach those heights. So when this first came around, and I saw many women talking about how much they had loved it, I figured I would just read it later. I buy books used, so this is generally what I do even outside of worrying about being affected. 

I finally picked this book up after a reader of mine told me it reminded them of my writing. 

After reading it, several years after all the hype, I have one question: Are women who fuck men okay? 

(“Why not just straight women, Doc?” you may rightly ask me, and I, unfortunately, am forced to answer that I know a number of bisexual women who also enjoyed this book, leading me to believe that the trouble is far worse than previously imagined.)

I found this book to be borderline insulting, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have claimed this book was written by a man. The entire way through I felt the constant assault of the idea that this reminded someone of ME. What have I been doing wrong all my life, I asked? I should probably give up writing. 

Let’s go into the book itself!

The core of the novel hinges around the idea that Henry goes through time without wanting to and with no consious conrol, and so in a sense lives his life out of order. This is a fascinating idea but for the fact that book’s main hinge is the relationship between Clare and Henry. 

Who Henry meets, as an adult out of time, when she is six. 

And proceeds to groom her to be his wife someday. 

Oh, it isn’t put that way, of course, it’s simply that they end up married and so, I suppose the author might say, it’s only natural that Henry interact with her when he comes the “the Meadow” nearby where she lives. But this sort of “things are already decided” that the author is extremely fond of does not remove this intensely squicky framework from their relationship. Henry begins with Clare when she is six years old, and it comes on VERY fast that they are supposed to get married. She is at a sleepover, still as a literal child, ELEVEN YEARS OLD, when the Ouija board spells out his name as the boy who likes her. 

The book takes pains to describe how he won;t have sex with her until she’s 18, but how difficult it is for a thirties to forties man not to have sex with her when she’s 15, 16, 17. I want to say there might be a part where he describes it when she’s 14, but I can’t find it in the book right now, so we’ll pretend it’s not there. “But they’re married in the furute!” one might say, listen if my wife had to resist having sex with sixteen year old me, and didn’t see me as a fucking child, I would think she was gross. It’s gross for a thirty-something to forty -something dde to struggle not to fuck a teenager, period, end of story. 

All of this is wrapped in the book’s idea that this is romantic, instead of the idea that Clare’s “date with destiny” is tragic. She doesn’t ever have a boyfriend, because she is “waiting for Henry”. She sleeps with one of Henry’s friends before he and Clare ever officially “meet” and bursts into tears because she feels as if she has been unfaithful. Meanwhile, Henry is out having girlfriends like no one’s business, and “Well Doc he doesn’t know” why is Clare the one who has to bear this arranged marriage? 

Clare herself even alludes to the way she’s being groomed to be the woman he wants in a way that I DO NOT THINK the author intended, as the author is desperately wrapped up in the idea that this is sexy and romantic and not deeply fucking unsettling. 

Pretentious-ass Henry is dropping German into a casual conversation with a thirteen year old so that you know he is learned and cool, and explain that it’s from Rilke, one of their (note: Not your, but OUR) favorite poets. 

Clare responds: “You’re doing it again!” 

“What?” 

“Telling me what I like.” Clare burrows into my lap with her feet. Without thinking I put my feet on her shoulders, but then that seems too sexual, somehow, and I quickly take Clare’s feet in my hands again and hold them together with one hand in the air as she lies on her back, innocent and angelic with her hair spread nimbus-like around her on the blanket. (Sidebar: I can only fucking imagine that the sort of people that are into this are the sort of people who think nothing at the idea of some Victorian gentleman marrying his attractive young ward, as apparently there’s no problem with having seen someone as a child and then having them marry you! It’s not deeply fucked up at all!)  …..

“Henry?” 

“Yes?”

“You are making me different.” 

“I know.” 

These brief asides are meant to make us feel that Henry has done enough to assuage his guilt, that we are meant to forget that what he is doing is wrong. The book goes so far as to have sixteen year old Clare be the aggressor with a 37 or so year old Henry, as a way of trying to tell us, “Oh look none of this can be Henry’s fault” and an absolutely cringeworthy section where Henry goes and beats up a kid who took Clare on a date and proceeded to assault her. (She dates him to prove she’s not a dyke wow what a great book and thank you for reminding us that Clare never wants to see anyone else for her own sake even as a teenager, very healthy)

All of which would make me a hell of a lot more mad if I managed to like Clare even a little bit. But it’s not at all surprising that I don't--Clare is hardly a character in this story so much as she’s a cardboard cutout that exists for Henry. 

Each of her desires and thoughts revolves around him, from the time she’s a child, save for minor pouting incidents when Henry either won’t tell her something, or disagrees with her. But she always caves, but for the exception of having a child, another horrible thing we’re meant to feel sorry for them in, but I, at least, never really do, as they know the problem, they know how horribly Henry’s life has been affected, and yet they persevere. I find myself asking why in the fuck they don’t use donor sperm, but I suppose that would not fulfill Clare’s real use as being Henry’s vessel. It might have been very touching to write about their experience of infertility if they were likeable at all, or the chapters were anything but flat and emotionless despite dealing with really high-emotion topics. It’s essentially Clare saying “I want a baby inside me” and having a series of miscarriages. I’ve read more compelling narratives on online message boards. 

Not to mention when Henry suggests adopting and Clare says “That would be pretending” bitch fuck ALL THE WAY OFF. I repeat: WE ARE MEANT TO LIKE THIS CHARACTER. NOTHING ABOUT HER IS SHOWN AS A NEGATIVE. 

A fair amount of time in the book is spent describing how hot Clare is, and it’s a bit cringey to read about a super hot redhead with great tits and also rich, who’s a visual artist, and then flip to the back and see a redheaded visual artist as the author. It’s not that I don’t believe that authors are ever allowed to find themselves in a character, quite the contrary, but one hopes that there would be a level of detachment or at least plausible deniability. But no, Clare is nothing but wish fulfillment for the author, but unfortunately cannot fulfill any of ours. I get the sense that these characters are far more complex and layered in Niffenegger’s head, but they fall completely flat on the page, sketches of annoying human beings. 

Clare seems to have been raised in an Austen novel, where the home is noted for its architecture and we ‘dress for dinner’ which could be intensely compelling if they ever went anywhere with it. But we don’t. Because of course Clare’s raising in a straightlaced, extremely wealthy family has no affect on her and she is a very cool girl who is laid back and likes the right music and poetry. (Sidebar: The name dropping in this novel is SO TIRESOME. Every band, artist, poet, etc has to be named and identified so your are aware of how absolutely well-read and smart and cool Niffenegger is) 

The we’re meant to feel for Henry when her family finds out that he is half-Jewish which I suppose is meant to be shocking when he doesn’t practice or isn’t different in any marked way from her family? The character has no Jewishness in him but as a side note and dare I say for shock value. Her family isn’t even written as believably against the union, as no one can resist super cool hipster protag Henry DeTamble (Even his name sounds INSUFFERABLE) 

The problem, of course, is that the very wealthy can buy their way out of many problems, meaning that an author has to have a particular deftness of hand in order to make you feel something for them. This is not that author. Any sympathy one might have for Clare goes immediately out the window when she’s complaining about having only a small room for a studio in which to create, while she’s living off the INTEREST from her trust fund, and hiring a cleaning service because neither of them is willing to vacuum. Not her trust fund. The INTEREST from her trust fund, which means there must be so much fucking money in there we all want to scream. 

Of course, Henry goes into the future and wins the lottery so they can give her a new studio, I shit you not this is a thing that happens in a novel where we are supposedly meant to identify with the characters and feel for them. They buy a nice house with a separate studio in the backyard, not even in the house, just a large brick edifice where Clare can do whatever she wants because these people don’t have consequences until Henry’s death, and by the time he dies, we’re all thanking God that at least there’s one thing they can’t weasel out of. The book has the audacity to have them, later, describe having a private box as one of their “little indulgences” friends a private box is the realm of $1,800 dollars for ONE showing of an opera, and while I am a believer in the good of occasionally saving up to do something that is an experience, there is no way I would describe that as an ‘indulgence” but these people have such wealth that they never need worry about anything at all, except the central point, which is that Henry drifts in and out of time and we would like to sentence a child to that. 

Henry himself is a collection of traits rather than a person--it is so important to the author that we know he is a real punk with great musical taste, that he knows German and poetry and Chicago--it’s all rather a laundry list of the long-haired, tall, punkish but very classically learned boyfriend Niffenegger would like to have rather than someone who has a heart or a mind.  But the luck of it all is that she clearly cares about henry far more than she does Clare, and so he gets a bit of fleshing out with a tragic anime backstory and all that, and from time to time we see bursts of real humanity in his character. 

Their love, even if it were not burdened by the exceptional trouble of CLARE BEING GROOMED AS A CHILD, has the weight of air. Henry is a womanizer with a drug problem, but then he meets Clare, hot rich redhead who proves she’s known him her whole life, and suddenly the magic swelling violins are in the background, love has found its day, and no more is ever said about it.The book refuses to get anywhere deep into how they feel about things and why, it is only glancing blows that seem to suggest an emotion rather than allowing ourselves to get into their minds.  

The bulk of the description of their love is sex. Sex sex sex. I get it, they are hot for each other, I am trying very hard to get over the fact that they are married when Clare is 22 and Henry is thirty, but you’re giving me nothing to pin their relationship on but the fact that they enjoy railing each other and Henry has been around since Clare was a child. I don’t understand the why of their relationship even once, it all seems so accidental, and I wanted there to be a lesson, or something to be said about humanity and relationships, but I found nothing save for maybe the idea that women are fully engrossed in their relationships and men basically luck into them and then drop out from time to time? But even that is far far deeper than I think the novel deserves credit for. 

The side characters are somehow worse, mainly racist stereotypes or one note characters who ALSO exist to have their lives enhanced by the protagonists. Even their friends only exist so that Gomez can have the hots for Clare for years, because Everyone Wants To Bone Clare. 

The writing itself is terrible too, written in the style of a script, almost, rapidly shifting between first person narratives in a matter of one or two paragraphs, often, helpfully telling who is talking by, I shit you not, putting “CLARE:” or “HENRY:” before the paragraphs, so we can enjoy who it is that is navel gazing and picking over the conversation without saying anything really, save for how badly Henry wants to fuck his super hot wife, who may or may not currently be a teenager, and how desperately Clare loves him, and has loved him since she was a child, for reasons that remain unclear. 

It’s padded out and ridiculous and reads like some of the drafts when I am being a complete garbage pile, and thank you to the person online who had already typed this out so I didn’t have to:

Henry:

Clare is wearing a wine-colored velvet dress and pearls. She looks like a Botticelli by way of John Graham: huge gray eyes, long nose, tiny delicate mouth like a geisha. She has long red hair that covers her shoulders and falls to the middle of her back. Clare is so pale she looks like a waxwork in the candlelight. I thrust the roses at her. "For you."

Please try to read that with a straight face and get back to me, i could not manage it, and it was early on the book, and this sort of thing goes on for pages, if you don’t like hearing about how pale Clare is, and that she has red hair, her two most dominating character traits, you are in for a very, very rough time. 

The narrative voice of the characters is identical. I mean, I suppose I should thank whatever god is responsible for this clusterfuck for the CLARE and HENRY bits because otherwise I would have no clue who was talking from moment to moment. Does NIffenegger think all people think alike? That their internal monologues are the same? It seems to me she must because I can’t figure any other way that one could write two characters and have them, even when their opinions differ, sound like the exact same person. 

I did enjoy the letter at the end of this story--and this is where I saw where my reader connected me to this book--it almost seems as if it was written for a different novel, a novel about a doomed love between two people that truly loved each other and had rich inner lives. It’s beautiful, or it would be totally removed from this novel. 

This review has, in itself, gotten to be as rambling and listing as the novel, and so I will let it rest here. I read incredibly fast. This took me something like five or six hours to read. It was a waste of every single one of those hours and I wish I had gotten a Big Mac instead. Save yourself, save six hours, save three dollars and ninety-nine cents, and read literally anything else. 

#Doc Reads

[flightfoot]

You know I sometimes see posts talking about how the ML writers clearly favor Marinette or clearly favor Adrien. I think it depends what you consider to be “treating a character better”.

Because on the one hand, there’s Adrien. He’s a model, gets good grades, and is pretty popular. He also happens to be the object of desire for four of the girls in the series, though for Chloe and Lila I’d consider it to be more possessiveness than actual romantic attraction. Watching Kagami and Marinette conflict over him is painful, though notably he himself has pretty much nothing to do with it, as he’s pretty oblivious to their feelings towards him (or at least Marinette’s feelings towards him, and is probably not aware of how deep Kagami’s feelings for him run), and DEFINITELY oblivious to their rivalry.

He possesses all the important plot connections, but is unaware of them and so far they’ve been criminally underused. The plot usually just kind of happens around him; it’s rare for him to be the one who caused it, or be the main one resolving it. He doesn’t get put through the kind of anxiety-inducing situations Marinette usually is, but he usually doesn’t get the kind of payoff she does either. The show has him stuck as a second-tier deuteragonist - he’s there, but Marinette’s CLEARLY the main character and gets most of the focus, for better or worse. 

It’s shown pretty clearly just by considering how many episodes of Miraculous revolve around Marinette’s actions driving the plot rather than Adrien’s, or perhaps even more telling, how many episodes of ML only show Adrien as a civilian long enough for him to get away and transform, and how many episodes do the same with Marinette. (From what I can remember, there are actually NO episodes of ML where Marinette is only shown in civilian form to show her finding out about the akuma and transforming)

So Adrien has a lot of stuff as part of his backstory, but it’s mostly just stuff that’s going on around him, not anything he causes. He IS a more passive character. He doesn’t do much actively, so he generally doesn’t cause a lot of things to happen by himself, but he also doesn’t have things blow up in his face that often.

And then there’s Marinette. She’s very clearly the protagonist and by far the most active person in the series. She doesn’t start off with a ton of background stuff like Adrien does, but slowly gains as the series advances. She became class president. She designed Jagged Stone’s glasses impressing him SO much that he began commissioning her regularly and takes her opinions and advice seriously. Her kwami actually recognized that the Miraculous Grimoire was important, so she was able to take it to Master Fu and be the one to get all the explanations and to choose all the Miraculous Holders. 

Like Adrien she also has multiple boys crushing on her, though hers tend to be more temporary (Theo *gag*, Nino, Nathaneal, Chat, and Luka), and she’s aware that all of them like or liked her except MAYBE Theo. Shout out to Luka especially who she seemed to get a mild crush on the moment she saw him, considering that she was stuttering when she first started talking to him and she only does that when anxious. He seemed to get a crush on her just as quickly. There probably WOULD be a rivalry between Chat and Luka over Marinette if Chat had any clue who Ladybug really was and if Luka wasn’t some flawless being who’s totally immune to jealousy and the heartbreak of seeing the person you like in love with someone else. As it is, there’s been no rivalry and the conflict has been entirely on Marinette’s side, with it being totally her prerogative who to choose and how much to pursue someone. The onus is entirely on her to make a move, but so is the ability to choose what happens next. 

And really, that’s a theme with Marinette. She gets most of the responsibility and pressure, but she ALSO gets more of the power to determine her own fate.

Marinette’s typically the one these days to make a mistake if someone’s going to, but I think that’s mostly because she’s the one who drives the plot. In the old days of season 1 Chloe was usually the inciter of the akuma and a major driving force of the plot, but after that season it diversified a bit. Marinette has to be at least one of the inciters of the conflict these days it seems, but she’s also the main one to fix things. She’s the one who tends to have things backfire on her and be humiliated, or to be the one who does something to cause an akuma, but on the other hand, she’s also the one who gets to advance, grow, and develop, who gets to make her own choices, the one who gets to do new things, to increase her capabilities and become more powerful, more connected.

Marinette’s the one who gets to advance from just being the nice girl in class who likes designing clothes in her spare time, to being class president, a regularly commissioned artist and generally favorite person of a famous musician, a lauded designer who managed to impress two of the most difficult to impress, influential people in the fashion world to the extent that she got to have her design for a hat shown off on the runway and be offered a place in New York at the young age of 14, to get to choose new Miraculous holders AND to become the guardian, along with designing the outfits for Kitty Section which looks like it might take off. 

Adrien meanwhile is stuck pretty much where he was at the beginning of the series. He models and learns fencing, piano, and Chinese because his father wants him to. (I’m not counting Adrien being in Kitty Section here since it seems like he doesn’t get to do that very often). Aside from that, he doesn’t get to advance or develop his capabilities or social standing generally - at least not of his own accord, of his own choosing. He’s a minor celebrity, but only for things he’s forced to do, not for anything he CHOSE to do. He doesn’t always mind it, but it’s still not really a result of his own actions or decisions, or something that he had much input in. Even as Chat he’s still stuck pretty much where he was before, except that now Ladybug knows a lot more than him so she relays info to him on a need-to-know basis. 

Mairnette’s just gotten to develop into a crazy powerful person in general, considering that she was able to wear nearly all the Miraculous AND to use several of them at the same time for a decently long period of time. Though at least on that front, it was shown that Chat at least can also handle at least two at a time just fine, so he’s not TOO far behind her on that.

Honestly, I’d argue that Marinette’s favored more in that she’s allowed to grow and become more powerful, while Adrien hasn’t really. She does get humiliated more, having things backfire on her sometimes, but at least she often gets to DO things that can backfire, and gets to fix them afterwards.

I do wonder; if Adrien was the one who regularly went through all the turmoil and pressure that Marinette does, getting humiliated at times but also getting to slowly become as influential and powerful as Marinette has become, while Marinette stayed mostly static in terms of status and power BUT didn’t get humiliated as often, what would the opinions of favoritism be then? Especially if it flipped so the focus was as much on Adrien in this alternate world as it is on Marinette in canon.

Personally, I’m hoping that season 4 has the writers letting Adrien advance more, make more of his own decisions, take on more responsibility but also more control. To date Marinette’s taken on pretty much all the extra responsibility, pressure, and control, but that’s a LOT to do by herself. She can’t really give Chat any of the responsibility that comes with being Ladybug, or Jagged Stone’s favored designer. But she might be able to offload some guardian duties to him, perhaps. And being Class president on top of that is a lot, so maybe that too? She’s just stretched too thin at the moment and I’d like Adrien to take up the slack, but he has to be GIVEN that slack to pick up in the first place, and so far the writers haven’t let him have it.

#marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #miraculous ladybug #ml analysis #miracle queen spoilers

[ambidextrousarcher]

Arjuna- Fortune’s favorite child?

@an-oranophobic-maniac, this post is dedicated to our mutual Karna fan.

Recently, I read Arjuna by Anuja Chandramouli, which was a good book, but one aspect of the book bothered me. Then, I had the misfortune to stumble upon StarBharat’s eulogy of Karna. This is me giving vent to my frustrations that arose from these, apologies if I offend anyone.

Also, if I am wrong about any citation, you are welcome to correct me from equally authentic sources (My source is Ramesh Menon’s rendition of the KMG, and a little bit of the Bori CE)

Let’s come to the part that bothered me, shall we? The author Anuja called Arjuna Fortune’s favorite, while Karna was supposed to have a star-crossed destiny. As for StarBharat, Karna was outright a good character, even protesting against the Varnavrat scheme.

Warning: Long post under the cut.

First things first: Is Arjuna actually Fortune’s favorite, and Karna a victim of destiny? I don’t think so, and here’s why:

Yes, Kunti abandoned Karna is a baby. She gets a lot of flak for that, and even I hated her for the same, but then I read the Mahabharata. 

Kunti was a child (11-13 years of age) when Durvasa blessed her with the infamous boon and when she called Surya using the same. He came to her, and stipulated that he will give her a child. Kunti, scared, begged him not to, for she was an unmarried virgin and she had called him out of nothing but childish curiosity. Surya does not budge. He tells her that if he leaves without doing what he was called for, childish curiosity or not, he will be ridiculed amongst the Gods. Kunti, seeing no way out of it, agrees on the condition that the child gets divine protection. Basically, he rapes her.

That’s right, Kunti is the reason that Karna has his famed Kavacha and Kundala!

Kunti casts Karna on a river, and Adiratha and his wife find him, and give him a loving family. Unlike popular perception, Sutas were not low caste. In fact, they were pretty high caste. Proof: Virata’s Queen is a Suta, Plus, Adiratha was indirectly connected to Anga’s royal family. (Check out Sacredtexts.com)

So, anyway. Karna gets a wealthy family (Adiratha was Dhritarashtra’s friend to boot), and a loving upbringing.

Meanwhile, Kunti has her swayamvar, and marries Pandu. He marries Madri, gets cursed by the Deer Rishis, and leaves for exile. It is in exile that the Pandavas are born. By the time Arjuna is born, Karna is 18 (He’s 16 years older than Yudhisthir). The Pandavas have a childhood in the forest, as opposed to Karna’s earlier years, and then Pandu dies.

Madri does Sati with him, so Kunti is left a single mother with five young children, who she brings to Hastinapur. The Pandava/Kaurava rivalry starts pretty quickly, with Bheema as the bully of the bunch. The Kauravas are quick to retaliate, poisoning Bheema. He does return, but that was the childhood that Arjuna (and his brothers) had. Surrounded by hate rather than love.

Then the princes meet Dronacharya, and it’s time for their gurukul shiksha. Karna is also a student of Drona. It is mentioned clearly in the Mahabharata, along with the fact that he’s Duryodhana’s friend. Arjuna outshines everybody, becoming an Athirathi in the gurukul itself, also becoming the Guru’s favorite through sheer determination. He alone saves Drona from the crocodile, something even Drona’s beloved Ashwathamma is hesitant to do. Karna is envious of him.

Here we come to the infamous Ekalavya incident, one that is used to blacken Arjuna’s character often. Yes, Arjuna was irritated, but it was that of a child who is promised something he did not get. He did not ask for Ekalavya to be mutilated, that was Drona’s own decision. Arjuna’s feeling here is that of the hurt honor student asking his teacher if he is no longer the best.

For example, I myself have felt jealous of other students who were compared to me, but that doesn’t mean I want them dead and gone! So it probably was with Arjuna.

When their shiksha is finished, the royal princes exhibit their skills. Here, Arjuna shines...until Karna enters the fray, and replicates Arjuna’s feats. Duryodhana is very pleased and welcomes Karna as a friend, who goes on to challenge Arjuna to a duel.

I have a question here: If a grown man challenges a child just out of school for a duel, is it a matter of pride and prestige for the man? I find it laughable that Karna is lauded for replicating the feats of a boy less than half his age, and that many people think he is the greatest based simply on this. For this is indeed the situation here. Yudhisthir is 18, which makes Arjuna 16 and Karna 36. 

Arjuna is ready to duel Karna nonetheless, but then Drona and Kripa step in, asking Karna of his lineage. Here, it is Bheema and not Arjuna who insults Karna as a Sutaputra. (The title itself is not the insult, but Bheema’s intent surely is.) 

By the end of it, Karna is the King of Anga. For the rest of his life, he lives in palaces. Karna is also a student of Parashurama, and is cursed by him for lying about his identity. (Don’t give the thing about Parashurama and Brahmin students only. He taught Bhishma, who was Kshatriya). Oh, and did I mention that Drona did not teach him the Brahmastra not because of his suta status but because he was not worthy? Arjuna had to go through a test before he learnt the same.

Now, it is time for Drona’s Guru Dakshina. He asks his students to capture Draupada. The Kauravas and Karna together fail. Arjuna and Bhima alone succeed, with Arjuna defeating Draupada single-handedly. Arjuna is the person to give his Guru Dakshina, no one else.

Sometime later, Yudhishthir is crowned Crown Prince. What do the Dushtha Chautyam do? (In the Mahabharata, in the Vyasa’s own words, Shakuni, Duryodhana, Dushassana and Karna form the Evil Four.) They plan the Varnavrat fiasco. Karna is an avid part of the nefarious plan, and also of the previous tries to kill the Pandavas, especially Arjuna and Bheema.

Arjuna, on the other hand, does not even think of Karna after the almost-duel.

The Pandavas escape Varnavrat, and go into the forest as Brahmins. They live on alms. (Oh, Arjuna too. The guy who is ostensibly Fortune’s favorite was living as a mendicant, while the guy who is ostensibly with a star-crossed destiny was living it up in Hastinapur. You were saying?) Arjuna wins Draupadi’s swayamvar where she does not insult Karna according to the Critical edition. KMG says she did then goes on to contradict itself. So basically, Arjuna proved himself as a better archer than Karna, the permanent blower of trumpets.

The Pandavas return to Hastinapur, and beget Khandavprastha. Cue Khandavdahan. Arjuna (without Gandiva) and Krishna defeat almost all Gods. I think Arjuna defeats Indra in single combat. Not sure. but Arjuna and Krishna together defeat almost all Gods, please Agni and Arjuna gets Gandiva.

(Point to be noted: Arjuna gets Gandiva through hard work. It is not an advantage he was born with).

The Pandavas build Indraprastha. Arjuna conquers the North and returns as Dhananjaya (bringer of wealth). He is already Savyasachi (ambidextrous) in his gurukul days I think.

Somewhere during this time, Arjuna interrupts Draupadi and Yudhisthir to get Gandiva so that he can help a poor Brahmin, and is exiled for 12 years. During these years, he is kidnapped by Ulupi (I count it rape by coercion. He had no choice here.), and abducted Subhadra. (We do not have Subhadra’s own views on this, but it was supported by Krishna, and Arjuna and Subhadra seem to have a good relationship along with Draupadi too.)

Indraprastha prospers.

 Dushtha Chautyam get jealous and get Yudhisthir to play dice, whereupon he loses his Kingdom, his brothers, himself and finally his wife.

This is when Cheerharan occurs. Even though Arjuna and Bheema are slaves and cannot defend Draupadi, Bheema tries to physically (he is stopped by Arjuna who realizes that they cannot afford to break their unity, for then they are lost. Here is the only character flaw of Arjuna I have seen. His excessive obedience to his eldest brother.) Arjuna himself also rises a question on the validity of the stake, for Yudhisthir had already lost himself.

Karna, the beacon of morality, calls Draupadi a whore and initiates the disrobing. Fortunately, she is saved by Krishna.

This is where Arjuna starts hating Karna, as opposed to Karna himself who has hated Arjuna from the beginning, just because he was better.

So, the Pandavas leave for exile. (Side note: Arjuna spent nearly 26 years in exile.) Here, Arjuna does tapasya and manages to please the Gods, especially Shiva. (Becoming Gudakesha, the man who won over sleep on the way.) He ascends to heaven. Not because he is Indra’s son, but because he won the Gods over with his austerities. Even in Heaven, the Gods ask his help in defeating demons. Arjuna defeats the demons even the Gods couldn’t and learns celestial weapons, music and dance. According to the KMG, he is cursed by Urvashi during this time, but Critical Edition has removed it. Before Arjuna’s tapasaya, Karna and Duryodhana organize a Ghoshayatra to humiliate the Pandavas and Duryodhana ends up a prisoner of the Gandharvas. His friend, Karna, runs away to save his own skin, leaving Bheema and Arjuna to come to the rescue.

The Pandavas start Agyatvasa. Arjuna, the best warrior in the world, is disguised as an eunuch. (Yeah, he’s so fortune’s favorite). At the end of Agyatvasa, he defeat the entire Kuru army which includes Drona, Bhishma and Karna single-handedly. Did I mention Karna runs away once more?

Now, the Pandavas and Kauravas start preparing for war. Arjuna and Duryodhana arrive at Dwarka at the same time, Arjuna leaving with Krishna and Duryodhana with Krishna’s army.

Kurukshetra begins. Before the war begins, Indra asks for Karna’s Kavacha Kundala, which Karna, the Danveer, exchanges for the Vasavi Sakthi, so that he can kill Arjuna. (It is also documented that Karna starts doing Daan for one reason. So that he gets enough punya to kill Arjuna.) Indra does so to eliminate Karna’s unfair advantage (it was inborn, not hard-won.)

Arjuna’s son is killed by 6 men at once, while they distracted Arjuna himself with an army of suicidal killers, which he again, defeated single-handedly.

Karna, however, cannot defend his own son when Arjuna kills him in single combat in front of his father. Finally, the Arjuna-Karna showdown begins. Arjuna injures Karna badly. Karna is struggling to stand when his chariot sinks in the mud. He asks Arjuna to desist, citing rules of war. (Really? Where did the rules of war go when a chariotless Arjuna was attacked during the 14th day? When Abhimanyu was killed?) Still, Arjuna does, until Krishna reminds him of the insult to Draupadi at which he fires the Anjalika astra, killing Karna. Who, by the way, was armed. Many, many warriors, including Arjuna, have fought on on foot in the War. Why did Karna not do so? That decision was Karna’s alone, it is not Arjuna’s.

All his life, it was Arjuna who had an elder brother who did not give two hoots about his individuality (thanks, @ambitiousandcunning!), a brother who was envious of him and who called the man who gave Krishna and Shiva the credit for all his victories along with Yudhisthir himself as arrogant when he fell down from grief, not Karna, who had a good friend and a loving family.

At the end, I just want to say that there are ample examples of Karna’s less than exemplary conduct, both as a man and a warrior. There are also examples of Karna being luckier than basically all the Pandavas. Equally, there are examples of why Arjuna was not Fortune’s Favorite, and also of Arjuna as a peerless warrior, one who even Shiva called his equal.     

#arjuna #karna #anti-karna #mahabharata #karna is not the folkhero he is portrayed as!

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 46

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 13. Go to previous. Go to next. TW: Mental snap, body horror. Things feel a little henny-penny.

________________________

A small building something akin to a shack or garage stood separate from the mudded dwelling intermixed with what had once been a blue country house. They walked up to the opening of the dwelling. Sticks poked his head inside, and knocked to somewhat hollow effect. A dry chuckle within drew a grin out of the ghoul, and he set down his flamer to wave ‘Choly inside. Angel, as always, remained in the Furriers’ doorways.

Hand-sculpted shelves both dug into and emanated out from the walls of the dwelling’s dome-like main room. As Reese’s house, series lighting embedded in the topmost region of the surface of the room illuminated it. While Sticks greeted the inhabitant, ‘Choly eyed the shelving, and the old man’s belongings. Hood finials, dashboard ornaments, rear view mirror dangles--so this Furrier shared a love of vehicles with Sticks. He glanced over to the pair to find them engaging in what seemed at first a sort of secret handshake: They crisscrossed their arms to grip together all four hands between them. Both the old man’s arms belonged to the right side of his body, one of which originated where a neck should have been, and his neck and head came instead from his left shoulder. Clad in an apron-like glossy, ruddy leather garment with a dusty grey-blue wrapped shirt beneath, this Furrier wore a mummy mask comprised of several materials. Its sallow eyelids hung heavy and sarcastic, and the lipless mouth shape could not contain the insinuation of teeth. Wild silver-white hair bushed out anywhere the mask was not affixed. ‘Choly stared as the two sealed the gesture with a long tight hug.

“Lacked you something sorry, Sticks. Know you visited the higher ups before you came to see me,” the old man known as Ick play-scolded. Barrel-chested and modestly burly, he projected his voice with a certain benevolent insistence. The hand of the top arm smushed down Sticks’s ushanka and the ghoul stifled a wheeze out of his noseless nostrils. “Who’s this picayune?”

“I’m...” ‘Choly stiffened. “I’m Melancholy.”

The mummy-faced trapper approached him and looked over his coat, then tapped his nameplate.

“Melancholy,” Ick repeated thoughtfully with a nod. “Sure he’s said it, but I’m Ick.”

The trapper offered his shoulder-arm and its bright red glove for a handshake and ‘Choly swallowed, trying to remember how Sticks had done it. But Ick didn’t give him the chance, and dragged him into a hug and vigorous shoulder-pat. The chemist smiled nervously once he let go of him, and did his best not to look unnerved by all the physical contact the ghoul had warned him to avoid.

“How’s the Riverhawk?” Sticks began.

“Keepin’ her sharp as ever.” The mummy skirted the ghoul’s directness. “Stay for dinner? I’ve got a bunch’a pelt hangin’ in the kitchen just this mornin’.”

“Meals sit better shared,” the ghoul quietly agreed. “You really gotta show me your curved needle technique again. I think I’ve lost it. Last mounted animal I did myself came out looking more like a prewar cartoon character.”

Ick chuckled, patting his hands together.

“Then you’re around for a few days. Bless it all, I don’t even care if I’m getting too old to unfold. Really, I wish you’d move into Voire proper, you misanthrope. I’m not the only one that’s lacked you.”

“The fishing’s better out Pawtucketville side.” Sticks leaned against a smooth part of the wall. “You know I stay out there as the lifeline between y’all and the General, besides. ...Wish you’d move out to Sampas with me, gonna be like that. We’d get into much better mischief.”

“I do miss scavvin’ lots with you,” Ick resigned with a shrug. “But the fur and leather’s so much better in Dracut’s backyard. You tell me how much radstag runs into you.”

‘Choly mentally squirmed, excluded from the familiarity of their conversation. He’d known Sticks for less than a year and they’d grown near-instantly close, but from the sound of it, the ghoul and this Furrier had known one another for half a century or longer. Time hadn’t stopped just because the chemist had succumbed to a cryogenic coma. The jet lag hooked at his temples and stitched around his scalp.

As the two continued to catch up without him, he readily scrutinized Ick’s physique unnoticed. Something about the asymmetrical arrangement of Ick’s pair of arms unsettled him in a way the other Furriers’ oddity had not. He identified that the old man had a third hand, though he lacked full use of it largely owing to it jutting halfway down his left side absent of an arm. This third hand was gnarled up and fused to Ick’s flesh, and ‘Choly choked up at recognizing that the hand looked distinctly ghoulish. His delayed disbelief snapped all at once, and with a terse snarl he lurched forward to grab the mask off Ick.

The old man’s very regular and very aged features stared back at him almost expectantly. ‘Choly hyperventilated as he gawked at the fullest concept of the Furrier’s anatomical dishevelment. Sticks looked on, disappointed and pained but not the least bit surprised at ‘Choly’s behavior.

“--Mindy, what were you expecting?”

“...I thought you said your name was Melancholy.” Ick’s bushy eyebrows raised then lowered as he tried to figure out for himself why the chemist had unmasked him.

“I have a lot of names, I guess!” ‘Choly slouched apologetically, confused as ever. “I get the feeling Sticks nicknames anybody he gets a little close to.”

“The fifth.” Sticks feigned a sneer as he held up his gloved hand to flourish his fingers.

“No, no...” Ick stepped nearer the chemist, squinting. “Carey... Great-gramma talked about a Carey from Deenwood. General gave you the digs of a real dark an’ wicked man.”

‘Choly scrunched his chin into his neck to grimace down at his nameplate.

“Certainly looks so...” He laughed weakly in agreement. “How come great-gramma knew anything about Deenwood?”

“Furriers came from that place. Our great-great gramparents served the General’s lot. She won’t let us back on base, but most of us don’t want to go back no ways.”

He could feel something in his skull pop.

“...Do you want to go back?”

“Never been,” Ick shrugged. “Never met the General even. I... I can’t say. Got all I need in Voire. Sticks’s made it sound like Deenwood’s some kinda paradise full’a robot butlers, but what good would it do me to have a bunch’a robots do as I say?”

“Robots can do a lot of good,” he replied a little too readily, “...depending on whose care they provide.” He glanced to Angel in the doorway with a smile. “Angel’s become my everything as my health deteriorates.”

Sticks had watched to gauge the conflict, and his mouth hung open about to say something, but Ick grinned and patted ‘Choly’s hand in both of his good hands.

“Gettin’ old has its costs, just as everything else.” The old man laughed and took his mask from ‘Choly to put it back on. “Sticks, let’s turn over the ol’ Riverhawk and get ‘er over with. Wanna be back before dinner.”

“Music to my ears.”

Ick opened the wooden rolling shutter door of the shack beside his house, revealing a Pick-R-Up truck with paneling salvaged from three different colors--black, blue, and white. The old mummy popped the hood and cackled as he crawled around to check fluid levels on all the main lines. Meanwhile, ‘Choly and Angel followed Sticks’s lead loading up the cargo bed with two crates from the shack. A cradle mount jutted from the center of the bed into which the ghoul tossed his flamer.

“Mister Ick is most generous to be permitting us the use of his vehicle,” Angel lauded quietly.

“This is becoming an all day affair for certain.” ‘Choly took off his glasses to rub at his face a moment. “What the fuck is with the masks, Sticks? Do they think it’s Halloween every day now!”

Up in the cargo bed, Sticks slumped to sit on the crates to glare at him.

“Rhetorical question: Can you get your feet out of your mouth for two seconds?”

‘Choly’s face drooped, and he put his glasses back on.

“--Wait. You said there was a drainage pipeline from Deenwood to the river... Do you know where that empties out?”

“A half-baked theory, but an interesting one. You’re gonna drive me to smoke at this rate.” The ghoul shook his head. “I’d imagine that it emptied into what used to be the Christian Hill Reservoir. At least some of the cogs in that defrosted skull are turning. Not well, but. ...No. That pipeline empties out under O’Donnell Bridge. In case you were wondering why there’s such a crustacean issue there.”

“Then--” He deflated in a huffing pout. “You’re the only person being honest and full disclosure with me here, Jacob. Please... please just tell me.”

“You really don’t get it, do you? They’re family.” He grinned sarcastically at him. “All I can say is you’re right about it being Halloween every day for the Furriers. Symbols of harvest and unity celebrate this place. The masks are, ah. Ironic. Something for strangers to focus on over their folds. But they’re a nice leper colony. Pushy, and a real huge batch of weird, but they’re good people.”

“A leper colony that insists on throwing some kind of massive costume party before they’ll even consider agreeing to help Olivia Francis flush the raiders out of Lowell for good.”

The ghoul barked, and sniffed before laying into another roar of laughter.

“Costume party. That’s a good one. ...Which reminds me.” He jammed a finger his way. “Ick is probably the most milquetoast Furrier you could have unmasked. Don’t fuckin’ do that again if you value staying in one piece.”

“Are they really so grotesque?” Sticks deadpanned him and he screwed up his face. “Curiosity’s only worse now.”

Sticks mashed his face into his palm. Ick turned over the engine, and the ghoul stood up to square his footing and get his flamer properly mounted.

“Let’s just get in and out of Boott Mills already. Hopefully the wildlife stays small and manageable. Mating season can make Downtown recon hairy as sin.”

‘Choly hopped up on Angel with his syringer filled with pencils, to follow behind the pair in the truck. They made their way South out of Voire, and crossed Cox Bridge weaving through the vehicles long abandoned there. Once they crossed the river, Ick leaned out the window and waved ‘Choly to match pace. The Handy and chemist complied and the old mummy guffawed heartily, then spoke over the volume of the engine.

“Gawd almighty never met a body knew Sticks longer’n me. He’s lacked you something AWFUL. Told me all about you. Called you Mindy! You’re MINDY!”

'Choly paled, not knowing how to even begin to object.

“Oh, don’t choke on your humility, son,” Ick insisted. “Won’t tell a soul. Not my business to say a body’s a ghoul when he doesn’t look it.”

Sticks could hear it all through the window opening which once would have held a glass panel between the cab and the bed, and he frowned to ‘Choly apologetically.

“Guess you know for sure now, that you’re family,” the ghoul quipped sheepishly off the side of the truck. “They’re your children, Mindy.”

The generational cascade of his military legacy crashed down on him like the sky shattered, and if Angel had not been steering he would have spilled off it.

Go to Next »»»

#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #sole survivor #the anatomy of melancholy #melancholy #sticks #ick #angel #lowell #centralville #chase r&d

[digitalmagus]

My growing list of Disney Princess Anakin Skywalker AUs

Of the Obikin and Obianidala variety that @subskywalker asked me to compile after spamming her with them during the last week. Disney Princess Anakin Skywalker includes the following:

Sleeping Beauty!Anakin is currently a few asks Cas has in her inbox and I won’t spoil unless she wants me too.

Vanellope!Anakin. Like i know she's got no love interest at her age but the premise is what I’m going for here. Anakin being the Chosen One but got usurped and is now glitched out until Obi-wan comes along and figures somethings not right or he could help Anakin and all I can think of is Anakin pulling Vanellope's execution bit on all the Jedi for being asses to him while he was glitched (you know he would and I am living for it). Maybe the glitch makes him go Vader when he gets angry? Or maybe Vader is a separate character and switched them but Anakin kinda fails at being the big bad villain. But I can't tell which version I like more, glitch-to-Vader Anakin cause angst or the-fail-villain Anakin who's so bad at his job but only Obi-wan sees it cause he's outside the set dialogue due to being from a different game (spin off/same franchise though?)

Mulan!Anakin is already covered via CT-Skywalker by Selcier

Snow White!Anakin.  Ashoka and the 7 clones who find the lost chosen one, cursed to sleep by the Sith Lord Sidious who dies from falling down a reactor shaft evading the clones shots. Obi-wan gets alerted and comes to Anakin's side only to be told it's hopeless cause the cure requires an attachment Jedi can not have but there’s no one outside the order who can do so either. But of course fully in love with Anakin as he is he doesn't hesitate to free him of the curse. By just planting one on him right there in the healing hall, right in front of the council cause of course he's gonna save his precious sub who takes all of two seconds to come to awareness and just hauls him closer(maybe there's some mewling)cause of course he knows it’s Obi-wan.

Kuzco!Anakin. Aka if anything is gonna be Obianidala it’d be this. But I came up with a twist!  Imagine some Vaderwan emperor's new groove BUT they're Kronk and Ezma, Vaderkin is Ezma and Obi-wan is Kronk adn Kuzco is Asajj or Qui-gon who's having that background adventure with Ashoka or Tahl as Pacha. If it's Qui-gon then Vaderkin is trying to oust him cause he's had it with Qui-gon taking all of Obi-wan's attention but also being a terrible master to him, not realizing that Obi-wan is literally letting him stage a coup and make one of them emperor as a clear sign he loves Vaderkin more. The spinach puffs line is cause he's craving pancakes like woah but Obi-wan thinks it's unhealthy to eat that many pancakes. If It's Asajj then Ashoka's husband is Rex but the kids are other clones, they're just on vacation cause Vaderkin didn't want them to get caught up in the coup and wasn’t expecting Asajj to run into them. Or maybe it’s just Sidious and he was planning the Death Star in place of that palace and so Vaderkin shoved him out and by the time he gets back with Pacha!Dooku Vaderkin and Obi-wan are already lauded as excellent co-emperor’s and no one wants him back.

Anastasia!Anakin(yes she’s a disney princesss now) I could go classic and make Ana=Anakin Dimitri=Obi-wan or throw Padme in and make it Obianidala(either as one of the three or as Sophie) or make Ana=Ashoka while Dimitri and Vlad as Obikin try to restore her to Shili’s throne with Shakk Ti as the grandmother. EVEN BIGGER TWIST Rasputin=Vaderkin who’s trying to rescue an amnesic Padme from Yoda with Sith magic and Obi-wan as a sassy cursed-into-a-bat/vampire who’s trying to keep Vaderkin from burning himself out cause even as the chosen one he still has limits and stuck as a bat he can’t really rescue Padme and watch Vaderkin at the same time.

Beauty and the Beast!Anakin. Plot twist. Sidious is the beast, Anakin bargained himself to get Ahsoka’s/Qui-gon's soul out and now Obi-wan has to mount a rescue while also freeing every Jedi soul Sidious has trapped in his castle(holocrons?). For regular Beauty and the Beast how about Obi-wan be the beast and Anakin wanders in one day but because he's a brat he winds up losing a bet and now has to stay in the castle and help Obi-wan fix all the equipment cause Obi-wan can't with his hands like they are. Meanwhile instead of an asshole like Gaston the Lady of the Manor Amidala returns from court to find her husband has been 'kidnapped' by the Beast that lives in the forest castle. Cue her busting in fully ready to kick ass with her handmaidens only to find Anakin quite happily upgrading everything and Obi-wan making sure he actually eats and sasses him back. She then moves in with them cause really it's a nice place once it's clean though it could use some better colors. Cue seduction of the castle's owner and the curse breaking and all the objects weren’t people but were broken droids that love Anakin for fixing them. Cause I love the image of Obi-wan having to put with R2-D2 only for the droid to actually listen to Anakin more after only five minutes of them meeting.

Little Mermaid!Anakin. In a twist Anakin is now an octo-merman and was chased out of his home of Tatooine for being suspected as a witch only while he can use magic he has no idea how to do spells cause it’s not like there’s books or a teacher around. He settles near Coruscant cause while they’re leery of a ‘witch’ they’ve got like every kind of mer there already. Padme/Obi-wan comes to him after hearing all the rumors cause they want a spell to turn them human/some other wish. Now Obi-wan/Padme in this is in love with another mer/human(ie Padme/Obi-wan) and while Anakin scrounges around for a lead on how to do the spell for them he starts falling for not just one but the other. But he figures they wouldn’t love him back so he stays away/tries not to lead on he’s in love with them and angst until a happy ending happens. If it’s the human/mer couple then there’s none of that hiding thing, they’re species have interacted before though a romance has only ever been seen to fail due to the differences. Cause I get the image of Anakin having his tentacles wrapped around a rock on the water’s edge while the human stands on land and the mer is in the sea waiting to see if Anakin’s new try at the spell is going to work. Also the image of Anakin singing a version of Poor Unfortunate Souls is masterful.

#star wars #obikin #obianidala #Anakin Skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #padme amidala #disney princess anakin skywalker #disney aus

[claryaastark]

Would I love me?

062418

Isn’t it strange? To look at someone and see yourself. Not the virtual but the real image of you. Isn’t it strange? To see your thoughts on someone, to feel your emotions on someone, to see the things you admire on someone, to have a taste of your favorite food on someone. To have a sip of your favorite coffee on someone. To fight the ideas that you believe on someone. Isn’t it strange? To have a glimpse of your soul on someone, someone who isn’t you, and someone who is different from you.

Well, perhaps yes, perhaps no.

It was a very long and tiring day. I was on my way home, thinking about how bad I am on fixing the right format of my final thesis output. I really suck at revising. But instead of thinking about acads, I divert my attention into the bustling city. All I hear were the loud blasting sound of the vehicles, the gossip of two high school students on the right part of the bus. The gentle utterance of the woman in front who wears a red polo shirt with a coca-cola logo on the left side. And judging her looks, I think she is some sort of a saleswoman, maybe a manager? Or simply an employee as she talks to someone over the phone. Meanwhile, on the back part of my mind, it feels weird but I can also hear the clicking of coins as the bus’ conductor collected our fare. I hate being this meticulous and observer sometimes.

I almost throw myself in front as the driver stepped on the break. A hint, either someone will come down or someone will ride. And the latter thinking was right, a man on his mid-20s I guess? I looked away and focused myself on the street lights which are unsurprisingly blurred because of my myopia. Without looking, I felt that the man sat beside me, and for no apparent reason he pushed himself beside me. Wtf?

“You’re occupying too much seat and with the right comprehension, I regret to tell you that this seat is for two passenger, and YOU ARE OCCUPYING TOO MUCH.”

He repeated his first statement with diction and sarcasm.

“I’m sorry,” that’s all I said, I want to argue because of his reckless and improper behavior but I’m too tired to fight with an arrogant stranger.

But he rolled his eyes instead. And for the second time, I ignored his disrespectful behavior. It was a one hour ride to reach the street of our home. So I busied myself on scrolling the gallery of my phone.

“Are you okay?” He said out of nowhere.

“Huh? Me?” I said while pointing myself awkwardly.

“No, I am actually talking to myself” he said sarcastically and he rolled his eyes. For a man, this one is really arrogant.

“Uhh, I’m doing good I guess, and why do you asked?” I said awkwardly.

It was weird, after he freaked out because of the seat, he is now asking my current state like we were close or something? What’s with this man?

“Nothing, is it bad to ask? You should be thankful that I asked if you’re okay. You seem stressed and by looking at you, I can already tell that no one really cares for you, and everybody is ignoring you. Like you don’t belong anywhere”

And he laughed. He fucking laughed. First he mocked me, and now he is insulting me? Which I found very offensive. I’m dealing with too much stress right now, and I can’t even breathe properly because of so many reasons, and now, a stranger is insulting me like he knows what I’ve been dealing with? I felt a sudden pang on my chest. I am offended.

“Fuck-off” I said bravely, despite the fact that I nearly cried.

He was shocked, I can tell.

“Ooh. I’m sorry, I was just joking, and... I thought that it was the most unique way of telling sorry. I’m sorry for freaking out”

And that’s where we started. I do not know as well, what power of Gods and Goddesses had put us together. He was an arrogant man, disrespectful and talks a lot of offensive things, so am I. But I loved him anyway, and I admit, that I learned a lot of things from him. We were mainly pragmatic. He is no sweet, gentle and showy. But he was pure, sincere and mature.

But just like anyone else, he left. He came for no apparent reason, and he left for no apparent reason as well. Maybe, just maybe, on a scientific basis, what happened to us is repel. He is he and I am me, we are the same and attraction is really not working with us. I guess?

It was a normal Sunday afternoon. I was bored, and the only thing that gives me comfort during tedious times on this very dull life is : coffee. I made my way on the nearest coffee shop downtown.

The aroma of sweet vanilla and bitter cocoa welcomed me. The dream catcher that was hanging on the door had clicked, a signal that someone is making their way in or out. I look for my favorite spot, where I can peacefully sit and be drowned by the deafening silence. I ordered my favorite matcha coffee, and a piece of custard cake. I pulled the Young Adult novel series that I was reading since last week, I am on the third book of the series. It was Sarah J. Maas’ A Court of Wings and Ruin, and damn, I just love the character of the God-like Rhysand. Most of the time, I wished that I was like the protagonist or the fictional characters on books, and movies. Might at least get a happy ending despite of struggles. But the fuck, no matter how good you are on escaping reality through arts and fictions, at the end of the day, you will sleep and wake up on the bitter slap of reality.

I put my earphones on, browsed my phone and look for my favorite app, the spotify. I am no great person, but I can brag that I got a very good taste when it comes to music. I can enumerate a lot of artists, genres, bands, albums, and the likes all day if someone would let me to. Though I’m bad at singing, at least, I got a big contribution through appreciation. I got them all! I played Movements’ Feel Something, one on the lists of my Album of the Year. Then here we go, my kind of escaping shits in life. What a very peaceful moment for me.

I was sitting alone and peacefully for almost one hour, in fact, I was halfway on finishing my cake and coffee until I noticed a man who’s staring at me. I faked a cough and tilted my body on the other side, to at least stop him from staring at me. But ugh! I can see on my peripheral vision the he’s still looking at me.

“What are you staring at?” I put my book on the table, loud enough for him to hear.

I didn’t get a verbal response, instead, he pouted his lips, a sign that he was pointing on something. Then I waved my book upward.

“On the book?” I asked with irritation, he is damn lazy. Can’t he speak?

“Yup, I love Feyre since day 1, and I didn’t trust Tamlin since then, that psychopath-sex-addict-obsessed-and-pseudo-lordshit.” He said coldly.

Ohh. So he read Maas’ ACOTAR?! My irritation suddenly turned into amusement. I removed my earphones and smiled at him. I patted the seat next to me, inviting him so we can talk more about this series. I mean, it is odd, to find someone who reads the same goddamn book that you are reading. Reading is a cool interest after all.

He sat hesitantly. I pushed the lock button to see what time is it. It’s 4:35 in the afternoon.

“Woaaah, man?”

I was taken aback when he spoke.

“You listen to Movements?”

Then I forgot that the album is still playing on my spotify app. And I guess, he saw it on my lock screen. But wait...

“Yup, and you too?” I said with amusement on my voice.

“Yeah, damn same man! Patrick is a wholesome piece of shit!”

And we laughed. Those laughter turned into weeks, months and years. A stranger that I met unexpectedly, is now a person that I used to know. Again, someone left my life.

We had the same interest in almost everything, we attended a lot of book signing, book launch. We bought a lot of albums from our favorite bands. We attended concert, gigs. We watched countless movies, we drank a lot of coffees. We travelled places to taste various delicacies and kind of foods. We jogged at sunrise, and walk at sunset. We were happy. Or... should I say, we were almost happy?

It is weird but he was totally just like me. We share the same interests, we fight the same ideologies, we have the same belief in almost everything. But again, he came to me, without me, asking for it, and now he didn’t even give me a chance to ask again, to ask why he left. I loved him, and I guess, things won’t really work on the way that we want them to be. So is us. And it’s sad.

It’s almost the end.

The end of the semester. And after all the hardships, sleepless nights, frustrations, failures, we are finally wearing the black toga! It’s the graduation season.

“Congrats, B!”

It was Kat, one of my thesis group mates. I returned her congratulations with a nod and smile. I’m too lazy to speak, it still overwhelms me that I survived and finished College with a Latin honor. Not to brag though.

I’m so excited to share this to him. I smiled, my heart is beating fast as I make my way to our favorite spot : under the mango tree.

It was a peaceful and underrated spot. Underrated to the point that we’re the only people who knew this place. I guess not all accidents are bad, because I found this place accidentally, so is he.

I smiled as I saw him playing the guitar again. He seems too preoccupied that he didn’t notice my arrival. I pouted my lips then a silly idea entered my mind. I tiptoed carefully then I cover his eyes from behind. He stopped his fingers from moving along with the guitar strings, and I felt him smile.

“Uhm, since I don’t want to mess with your tricks, let me pretend that I didn’t know it was you. So, who’s this?”

He joked.

I kissed his cheeks from behind and whispered.

“Your future wife saw her name on the final list of graduates and guess what, a Cum Laude!”

“Wow! Congrats, B! I’m proud of you. You finally made it!”

He hugged me tight.

I opened my eyes with the bittersweet memory. It’s been a year since I graduated College, and it is the first time that I visited this place again. Still peaceful, the only different thing is that, the people who used to own this place, are now the people who used to know each other.

For the third time, someone left me again. He is one of the kindest persons that I know. He brings out the kindness in me. A responsible man, very family and school oriented. He’s the one who makes me realize the essence of being responsible. He taught me to appreciate little things, and the most important thing that he planted me is, I realized that I am not bad. That we’re like each other.

He used to sing me a lot of songs, he motivates me to always do better not just for myself but for my family. I was happy. We were happy. But I guess, happiness is not enough to bind people together. There are things that are more important than being in love.

And that’s my biggest realization.

The stories that I’ve told you is just a piece of a whole. I didn’t tell you the hardships, the pains, the sleepless nights that I experienced when they left. It was hard, to be left behind. With or without explanations, it was hard.

I started asking myself what’s wrong with me. I started doubting myself, I hated myself. And I started feeling afraid of taking risks. I began to wonder, do these wrong people deserve my time, invested feelings, and love?

I met a stranger on a bus, and I took a piece of him. I was an arrogant, sarcastic and disrespectful being sometimes, so is he. We were the same. I saw my bad sides in him. And I fell in love with those evil. I learned to accept that there is good in every wicked.

I met a stranger on a coffee shop. I took a piece of him. I saw myself in him. The things that I admire, my interests, my ideologies and all the stuff that makes me happy. He will always be my real life reflection.

I met a stranger under the mango tree. I took a piece of him. I saw my good sides in him. I was kind, compassionate and I realized that I really care for those people around me. He made me love my soft spots.

I always see myself in them. They are like a reflection of my different sides. It was bitter, that they made me doubt myself. They made me feel insecure for leaving me behind. They made me hate myself. But after all, it was all about me. Piece by piece, I assemble myself into whole.

Funny because, I just fell in love with myself. That they are just the representation of who I truly am, that they are me. I was the stranger in the bus. I was the stranger in the coffee shop. I was the stranger under the mango tree. Every piece of them is equal to the remnants of myself that I was trying to build.

If I were them, would I love me? And I got the answer, yes, because I just did. I fell in love with myself.

© to owner of the photos.

️

#self love #short story #fiction #self worth #writings #literature

[pluckyredhead]

Daredevil 101: Typhoid Mary, Part 1

Hello, friends! With Miller back off the main Daredevil book for good after “Born Again” (though not done with Daredevil forever, as we’ll see), it’s time for Ann Nocenti’s run (mostly with John Romita, Jr. on pencils), which is most notable for introducing the villain Typhoid Mary.

In recent years Nocenti’s Daredevil has been lauded as an underrated gem of DD canon. I...disagree. I find her run to be a real slog to get through, boring and histrionic by turns, and frankly deeply misogynistic. Because she’s a woman, I keep second-guessing that last judgment call, wondering if there are nuances here I’m somehow missing, but so far...yeah, to me it’s just virulently sexist. She’s definitely consciously doing stuff with gender, deliberately subverting some norms, but in the end I think it falls flat. But let me know what you think!

CONTENT WARNING: Dubcon, attempted sexual assault, sexual violence, infidelity, child abuse, ableist depictions of mental illness.

In the aftermath of “Born Again,” Matt was left disbarred and homeless, squatting in a tenement in Hell’s Kitchen with ex-junkie Karen and working as a short order cook at a diner, but very happy about it. He’s totally content to let that state of affairs continue, but Karen is not:

Like. Can we just appreciate Karen for a moment here? You saw her last week, she was barely walking upright. Now she’s applying for grants and opening a legal clinic/drug addiction hotline while Matt’s obliviously flipping burgers in his blousey-waisted pants. She’s amazing.

Matt throws a big whiny tantrum about how that part of his life is over now Karen!!! Don’t you understand!!! but gets with the program eventually.

He also wanders off to the park and chats with a little boy who is sailing his toy sailboat:

As Matt’s radar-sensing, though, a truck dumps chemicals into the water - chemicals that have a very bad effect on poor Tyrone:

Matt rushes Tyrone to get medical assistance, but it’s too late - he’s permanently blinded. Matt, naturally, is very personally affected by his case and determined to help his family in any way he can.

Meanwhile, the clinic is bustling:

I like this because it’s really the first time we’ve seen the Hell’s Kitchen community form around Matt. This is the closest the comics ever get to what N&M looks like at the beginning of Season 2, I think.

I also want to point out the little kids in the first panel: the Fatboys, a little gang of skateboarding urchins who hero-worship Matt, Karen, and Daredevil. I love them so much and want them to show up in the comics again. Here’s another little bit with some of the more central ones:

So cute!

Meanwhile, what’s Foggy up to? Well, he’s gotten an extremely plush job in a corporate firm that, unbeknownst to him, is owned by Fisk. Unfortunately for everyone concerned, it’s the same company that dumped the toxic materials that blinded Tyrone, and Tyrone’s family is now suing. So Foggy goes to check out the company’s usual waste disposal site:

Foggy is horrified by how disgusting and irresponsible Kelco is, but they’re still his client, and he still needs to defend them, even though Glori thinks that he shouldn’t and that Matt wouldn’t. (Matt probably wouldn’t. It is, however, literally Foggy’s job.)

Okay, you’re saying, but where’s the character this post is named after already?

Here you go:

...Yeah. Welcome to the late 80s, folks!

That narration on the side, by the way, is part of why I’m not a fan of Nocenti’s writing. It’s...it’s pretty incoherent, huh? There’s a lot of that in her run. It’s worse in the dialogue.

I also want to talk about the art for a second. Starting a couple pages up we’ve got John Romita, Jr., one of the artists most associated with Daredevil thanks to this run and his work on the Miller-written miniseries “Man Without Fear.” I can’t really say that I like Romita’s work but I find it really interesting. His shapes and poses and choices are all really blunt and strange and striking. (I feel similarly about Miller’s art, actually.) He’s also one of those artists whose attempts to draw aggressive male power often come out very, well, fetish-y (his Frank is a straight-up sexy bear). It winds up working really well for this story which is in a lot of ways all about sexual dominance and gender roles.

Anyway, Typhoid Mary has a split personality: “Mary Walker” is sweet and innocent, and “Typhoid” is a sadistic killer, who comes to New York and starts mowing down criminals because eh, why not. (Matt isn’t particularly troubled by this, even though he freaks out whenever Frank does it.) Mary has no knowledge of Typhoid, somehow, but Typhoid hates Mary. Typhoid is also telekinetic, pyrokinetic, and has some kind of pheromone powers that give her limited mind control over men. Oh, and her heartbeat and scent are completely different between the two personalities.

Basically, she’s a random assortment of powers and physiological quirks that target Matt’s weaknesses specifically. It’s preeeetty contrived. Plus she’s her own madonna/whore complex, compounded when contrasted further with patient, loving, good girl Karen.

She’s also sexually dominant, which is portrayed as extremely transgressive and dangerous:

Yeah, she fucks this random guy in a burning warehouse next to a bunch of corpses. On top, because Typhoid is evil you guys!!! Siiiigh.

Meanwhile, Matt is trying desperately to teach Tyrone to use his other senses the way Matt does:

Matt’s using a milder version of what Stick did to him as an attempt to jumpstart Tyrone’s “abilities,” but Tyrone doesn’t have Matt’s abilities, so this is basically just Matt breaking into a disabled child’s hospital room in the middle of the night to berate and imperil him. On one level it’s an interesting contrast to Miller’s argument that anyone can do what Matt and Stick do - that they don’t have special abilities, they’re just tapped into their awareness more than ordinary people. On the other hand...Matthew, stop. He’s clearly projecting, but...STOP.

(Tyrone also displays an acceptance of his own blindness in that last panel that Matt never has - he always speaks of his blindness in terms of his powers being a compensation for it, and in Nocenti’s run in particular he’s extremely self-loathing about being “a blind man,” which Nocenti for some reason thinks is one word. “A blindman.” It’s weird.)

Meanwhile, Fisk has heard of Typhoid, and thinks she could be useful to him:

This is one of those strategems that you’re like “Okay, okay,” when you’re reading it and then you think about it and you’re like “...Wait. Why is the ruler of crime in the largest city in America hiring a street person to break someone’s heart?” JUST SHOOT HIM, WILSON. This is so silly.

So Typhoid sets off to win Matt’s heart:

THIS DIALOGUE IS TERRIBLE. NO ONE TALKS LIKE THAT. UGH.

Again, I’m so frustrated by how contrived the Mary/Typhoid split is and how the rules change in order to make the plot work. This is definitely Mary - we see Mary later, unaware of Typhoid’s interference and very much in love with Matt - but Typhoid’s the one who gets them the job working with Tyrone, who makes up the story about a blind father, who uses her poorly-defined powers in the first panel to compel Matt to sit with her. It just seems lazy to me.

Matt is captivated, and uses his work “helping” Tyrone (he is now serving as a “ghost lawyer” for Tyrone’s father and the affordable baby lawyer they’ve hired) as an excuse to see Mary and, well, basically begin an affair with her:

1. MATT THERE IS A TERRIFIED BLIND CHILD YOU ARE NEGLECTING YOU SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT

2. MATT YOU CHEATING BASTARD

3. MATT I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LET STRANGERS HEAR KAREN CALL YOU “BIG M,” SHE SHOULD BREAK UP WITH YOU JUST FOR THAT

Seriously, Matt is The Worst. It’s unclear how far he and Mary go (though he does discuss leaving Karen for her), and also, to be fair to him, unclear how much of this is happening of Matt’s volition, given Typhoid’s powers. But then, Mary’s consent is just as dubious as Matt’s. This is all so fucked up.

(I should also note that a few years after this plotline, after Karen has left him and they’ve painstakingly rebuilt their relationship for the second time, he cheats on her again with Elektra, this time in full control of his body and mind. So Matt You Cheating Bastard still stands.)

Meanwhile, the Tyrone v. Kelco case finally makes it to the courts, and Foggy is finally confronted with his old friends:

You know, Karen, you’re awfully high-and-mighty there for someone who last saw Foggy when you showed up on his doorstep as a strung-out junkie and then broke a lamp over his head and disappeared, leaving like a dozen dead bodies on his street.

Look. I freely admit that I am biased in Foggy’s favor and tend to give him more of a pass than I should, and the narrative is very, very clear that he is in the wrong in defending Kelco. Though Foggy is right that the legal system only works when everyone has the right to dedicated legal counsel doing their best to win, Matt and Karen are also right that sticking up for a company whose willful neglect caused massive environmental destruction as well as the blinding of a little boy is not exactly Foggy’s most shining moment. (Matt also makes the point later that Foggy should’ve known he was working for Fisk, but I think a suicidally depressed, recently divorced lawyer who just lost his livelihood and whose partner was just disbarred probably isn’t gonna look any job offer horses in the mouth.)

But Karen and Matt both act like Foggy has committed some horrible personal crime against them when Foggy stuck his neck out for both of them in “Born Again,” did everything he possibly could to help him, and they both disappeared and from what I can tell didn’t even bother to let him know they were alive. By the time of this story Foggy knows about the clinic and that they’re together, but it’s not clear how - legal scuttlebutt?

Basically, Matt and Karen have a lot of nerve, and if there’s anyone who owes anyone else a personal apology here, it’s not Foggy.

While Karen is snubbing Foggy, Daredevil is finally battling Typhoid, who he does not recognize as Mary (even though, ironically, a sighted person probably would):

Oh, I forgot, she also disrupts Matt’s radar. Sure. Whatever. *throws hands up in the air*

Anyway please note Matt calling her “bewitching” and Mary’s seductive dialogue and pose in the second panel.

Matt’s attracted to and repulsed by her simultaneously. She’s hot, feverish, burning - desirable and sickening at once. He’s confused by her dominance before violently rejecting it. She’s screwed up the gender roles he’s used to - dominant and submissive, pursuer and pursued - and it’s literally making him ill even as it fascinates him. (It’s worth noting that Mary, who he’s enchanted by, is totally helpless and submissive around him, constantly begging him to hold her and guide her and make her feel safe.)

Again, if this had been written by a man, I’d write it off the combination of the madonna/whore complex and the transgressiveness of female domination instantly as gross misogyny. Since it wasn’t, I can’t help feeling like Nocenti was trying for...something? Some subversion of what are very, very old comic book tropes? (“Nice lady with villainous split personality” has been around since the 40s, for example.) But maybe I’m giving her too much credit.

Up next: Matt and Foggy reunite, and Typhoid kills Daredevil!

#daredevil #daredevil 101

[ladystylestores]

Nicolas Ghesquière Photographs Louis Vuitton’s Fall Campaign – WWD

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Confinement pushed many fashion people to be creative in different ways, to move outside their comfort zone and usual perimeter of expression.

It gave Nicolas Ghesquière the bold idea to shoot Louis Vuitton’s fall campaign, his extensive “portrait gallery” as direct, sharp and carefully considered as his fashions, though with a lighter spirit. He even coaxed some full-on smiles.

“It was something I wanted to do for a long time, in a very humble way,” he said. “I thought it was interesting to add a new point of view for Vuitton, and they were kind enough to agree to take a risk on a very young, new photographer.”

Ghesquière laughed. He’s actually not such a newbie, recalling that he photographed his designs earlier in his career “to try to give them that second dimension,” and for years toted an old Leica to snap personal pics, accumulating boxes and boxes of images. “I think maturity, probably, and experience give you confidence to take positions you never took before,” he mused.

Mariam de Vinzelle  Courtesy Photo

His pitch to Vuitton chief executive officer Michael Burke and executive vice president Delphine Arnault was to bring coherence and unity in communication across multiple categories of product. “And I told them, ‘I think I’m ready to do that,’” he related in an exclusive interview.

Indeed, the campaign, slated to run over three months after it breaks Aug. 1 in Le Figaro, amalgamates what would have been several campaigns: showcasing not only the fall runway collection, but also the new Since 1854 range, plus permanent products designed long before Ghesquière arrived at the French luxury house in 2013.

Ghesquière acknowledged that one of the most challenging aspects was photographing the leather goods. “You know how essential handbags are at Vuitton, and we love handbags, but it is so hard to give handbags a great visual effect,” he said.

French actress Léa Seydoux, in perhaps the most joyful of the images, found a way to suspend a monogram Dauphine bag over her forearm and elbow as she folds her arms behind her head and lets out a laugh.

“There are so many things that I like about this picture: the attitude, the fact that he captured a genuine moment where I was laughing. He didn’t ask me to laugh on purpose,” Seydoux marveled. “As with everything he does, Nicolas was a pro. He knew exactly what he wanted, talked me through the brief and took the time to explain what he wanted to achieve. He guided the team and me throughout the session, creating a really relaxed atmosphere, so we got the shot very quickly.”

Léa Seydoux  Courtesy Photo

Ghesquière said his motivation to shoot a campaign was to “show that I could have a point of view.”

To be sure, the French designer said he has long been inspired by fashion photography “so it was interesting to be on the other side of the camera,” he said. “Some people have this crazy capacity to be so photogenic, and some other people that are so gorgeous in real life are not that easy to photograph. I mean, it is the reality and this is a discussion I have had with many photographers.”

He’s worked with the crème de la crème: Annie Leibovitz, Bruce Weber, Steven Meisel, David Sims, Juergen Teller, Collier Schorr, Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin among them. What’s more, Irving Penn has shot the designer’s portrait, and he attended a Penn fashion shoot for American Vogue featuring model Gemma Ward.

All have different working methods, and Ghesquière gleaned many insights.

“Some people can catch the moment very quickly, and the first picture will often be the right one. Bruce catches that moment of emotion that is very raw, and David has that gift, too,” he said. Penn, meanwhile, was all about building up the image slowly and methodically. “The way he was putting the girl and the clothes and the composition together was exactly like what you can imagine a painter would do, and the time for him was limitless,” Ghesquière said. “He could take days to do one shot.”

During his debut Vuitton shoot, “what I was looking for was the direct emotion,” Ghesquière said. “So I was the more quick type. I was trying to get something right at the beginning of this session.”

A heritage trunkmaker still closely associated with travel, Vuitton campaigns have been shot all over the world, from the swamps of Cambodia and downtown Moscow to Pompano Beach, Fla., and the storied Île Saint-Louis in Paris.

Yet Ghesquière decided to stay put, inviting the entire cast and crew to his Paris apartment, where he could closely follow all safety precautions to protect everyone from the coronavirus.

“I wanted to welcome people at home, to make them comfortable, and to set up a relationship of trust,” he said, also describing the space as very feng shui. “Today I think home means a lot to people. In the moment we all just went through, going home, being at home, is even a stronger symbol than before. So that was why I wanted to do it there.”

Dina Asher-Smith  Courtesy Photo

The designer assembled a large and diverse cast for the shoot. They include British sprinter Dina Asher-Smith, transgender model Krow Kian, actress Stacy Martin and the Congolese-Belgian singer known as Lous and the Yakuza. Ghesquière said he was often sneaking off to the makeup area to listen in on conversations, always curious to know about the personalities he recruits, their artistic expressions, and their interests.

“You have to try to shoot models for who they are in real life, not because they are models,” he said, noting, for example, that sleepy-eyed Mariam de Vinzelle is studying engineering and talks science as fluently as the designer does fashion history. “She’s a model, but I see her more as the student she is,” he said.

For Seydoux, who will be seen late this year in the James Bond film “No Time to Die” and in Wes Anderson’s “The French Dispatch,” the designer “wanted to catch that sense of humor she has in real life and this lightness,” not forgetting her inimitable mix of French beauty and Hollywood glamour.

Martin, who stars in the acclaimed sci-fi film “Archive,” said Ghesquière approached the shoot with a “precise eye” and clear intentions.

“Nicolas always seems to see beyond the clothing — he creates not only a silhouette but also a character in a distinctive world. I think that’s why I respond to it so much, it echoes cinematic worlds,” she said. “He looks for what magnifies women and makes them feel unique by going past the conventions of beauty and fashion.”

French actress Marina Foïs lauds Ghesquière’s bold use of color and mash-up of references in his fashions, and yet “no one disappears behind what they wear,” she says. “What strikes me about these photos, mine and the others, is the directness, the strength of the gazes and the truth of the smiles. It’s simple and sophisticated.”

Ghesquière worked with professional crews to achieve the lighting and framing he had in mind, leaving him free to conjure moments he described as simple, positive and at times joyful. “It’s also the message I wanted to give,” he said.

“Probably my work when I do fashion shows is much more about drama, because the fashion show is usually quite dramatic. And I thought the campaign would be interesting if I could achieve a different kind of emotion,” he said.

Ghesquière acknowledged that he had to occasionally resist the urge to drop the camera, and jump onto the set to adjust the clothes, leaving that job to stylist Marie-Amélie Sauvé, who draped a hoodie over Asher-Smith’s head, a wink to her athleticism.

He said it was inspiring to see how “all these elements came together with great coherency. There is a strong proposition at Vuitton that says a lot about how much people are working together in that brand.”

The designer also felt a strong sense of accomplishment having followed his clothes from their creation to the “final point,” which is the campaign. “It was interesting to take control of that and to really go through the whole process until photographing the clothes,” he said. “I took so much pleasure to do it. It was a joyful experience, and safely done. I shot the different talents one by one.”

Very few designers pick up a camera themselves, with the late Karl Lagerfeld perhaps the most accomplished of them all, having lensed campaigns for Chanel, Fendi and his own brand for decades, along with advertisements for Dom Pérignon, Adidas and Coca-Cola. Hedi Slimane followed in his footsteps and shoots all brand imagery for Celine.

Recently, Valentino’s Pierpaolo Piccioli and Balmain’s Olivier Rousteing picked up a camera to shoot their resort campaigns.

Ghesquière made it clear his expansive fall campaign is not a one-off.

“Yes, I hope to continue shooting,” he said, “but I also want to keep working with great talents. Vuitton is so large and we always need different images.”

Ghesquière suggested to Burke and Arnault that he could do a “working session” just to reassure them he was up to the task, but they did not insist.

“They were very supportive right at the beginning, they never saw any picture that I did before. And they really trust my vision from in the first minute I shared the idea of this project with them. It was really great to explore a new artistic expression I could add to the Vuitton story we’ve been telling over the last years,” Ghesquiere said, describing himself as “someone that could really put together this message with a lot of unity, a universal message about what is Louis Vuitton today and how it can reflect the world of today.”

According to Burke, Ghesquière offered “a more focused point of view” for Vuitton at a time when new media is exploding. “There are very few global buys anymore,” he said. “We’ve empowered completely all our countries and regions.”

Also, Vuitton is forgoing the past impulse to dedicate campaigns to certain seasons or product categories. “People want to see Nicolas’ point of view on the Vuitton woman,” he said. “There’s more movement, more attitude, more inclusivity — all the things that resonate with digital media platforms.”

While he didn’t give numbers, Burke said Vuitton would spend more on advertising in the second half of 2020 than the same period last year, reflecting a rebound in business in many markets, and unspent monies carried over from the first half. It is also to support a stronger pipeline of new products, headlined by Since 1854, a range of clothes and leather goods featuring a new jacquard.

Burke said the new campaign would lead to a sequel, done with the same dedication to diversity and inclusion, and a reliance on local casting. While the latter was a necessity this year due to travel restrictions, Burke said “that’s also the future.”

While he didn’t rule out campaign shoots in cities other than Paris, Burke said Vuitton would rely on talents in town at the time rather than flying in models, singers and actresses from all over the world. “It makes for a much more authentic set,” he said.

Vuitton will also run separate campaigns for its men’s product universe and high jewelry in the second half, he noted.

Deciding to shoot the women’s campaign was not the only new idea Ghesquière had during lockdown.

“I took that opportunity to step back, to think more deeply about how I do things,” he said. “I want to be an actor of change. To change in everyday actions, in everyday decisions is important.”

In lieu of a destination cruise show — Vuitton has shown as far afield as Brazil and Japan — the designer created a more concise collection of about 20 looks, pouring a lot of energy into fabric development, including a new monogram toile incorporating playing-card motifs.

“It is a very strong statement in fashion, I did it with the same honest message, the same conviction, with no compromise,” he said. “It pushed us to go straight to the essentials, maybe to do fewer prototypes, to waste less maybe, to be more focused on the message.”

He said he was heartened by the positive feedback, though he still plans to do a physical show in October,

“I’m going to do digital stuff like everyone, I’m working on different projects that can reach the people who will be far away from us unfortunately,” he said. “But I need a physical, live event that will take place in Paris and I’m doing everything to make it happen, limited obviously by the sanitary conditions. I really hope the fashion week will exist. Everyone has a responsibility and the big brands are important in this calendar.”

He allowed that the show is likely to be smaller, “more adapted to what we’re going through.”

More from WWD.com:

Louis Vuitton Switches to a New Model for Men’s Shows

Coronavirus Crisis Hits Fall 2020 Advertising Campaign Productions

The Best Fashion Ad Campaigns of Spring 2020

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[boschlingtumbles]

It’s a Nice Day for a White Wedding (Chapters 4 - 9)

Chapter 4 – Stannis

Stannis groaned as the phone went off at three in the morning. In the pitch black, he groggily reached for it, his hand groping blindly across the bedside table. Finally he found it and cracked an eye open.

A picture of Robert mid sneeze greeted him.

With a sigh, Stannis sent it to voicemail. Trust Robert to get wasted and decide that three in the morning was an appropriate time for a heart to heart. Didn’t he have practice tomorrow morning? Didn’t his entire job depend on some measure of well-rested sobriety?

Stannis ground his teeth and snuggled deeper into the bed. 

He was just drifting back to sleep when Melisandre’s phone began buzzing.

Stannis groaned again. Not a good sign.

There was a pause as the phone continued to ring cheerily and Melisandre fumbled for it in the darkness. Stannis didn’t even bother trying to see who was calling because there was only one possibility.

“Hi Thoros,” Melisandre yawned. Something inaudible on the other end.

“It’s three in the morning and I’m a two hour drive away, can’t you ask Beric?”

Another pause.

“Ha Beric too?” Melisandre sounded amused. “Well I suppose that’s a sight worth driving two hours for. I’ll see you in a while.”

The phone was placed back on the bedside table. The bed shifted as Melisandre got up.

“Thoros and Robert and Beric are all in the drunk tank at Oldtown. I’m going to drive out there and pick them up,” Melisandre said.

Stannis grunted.

Melisandre went into their bathroom and the light turned on. Stannis rolled onto his other side. He could hear the faucet turn on as she began to wash her face and he moved the pillow over his head to block out the sound.

The bed shifted again as Melisandre sat down to pull her boots on.

“Fine, I’m coming!” Stannis huffed.

“As you like,” Melisandre said serenely.

Stannis continued to brood in the car. It was just like his brother. And her brother for that matter. They were two peas in a disastrous slow-motion car crash of a pod. Selfish, irresponsible, completely disrespectful of authority...

“If you’re going to keep grinding your teeth, I’m going to have to make you another dentist appointment,” Melisandre warned from the passenger seat.

Stannis unclenched his jaw. Robert got this from their parents, who were currently hunting big game in Sothyros. If anything, all three Baratheons had turned out rather well considering they had been raised like feral animals with a checkbook. Where Thoros had gotten it from, Stannis had no idea since he’d never actually met Melisandre’s parents, who had basically abandoned their children in high school.

No, Robert was their father through and through. Steffon had spent years assuring them that the family shipping company was fine being entirely managed by a board of directors comprised of half a dozen of his father’s golfing chums. Of course the moment Stannis had looked into it, it had been clear that the company that had been in the family for five generations was if not hemorrhaging money, not thriving like Stannis knew it could with robust leadership. There had been nothing for it but to graduate college in three years and take over the business and give it the kick in the pants it needed. In the last two years, Stormsend Shipping had consistently beat market competitors and their profits had grown.

Meanwhile, Robert was off playing professional football. Sure he made a couple million a year at it, but it didn’t change the fact that he was wasting his life doing exactly what children did on the playground. So much for being a contributing member of society. And while Steffon and Cassana had never once mentioned Stannis’ feature article in Forbes, there was nothing they liked better at a cocktail party than to name drop their son Robert, the professional athlete. Meanwhile Stannis was the one who graduated early summa cum laude, Stannis was the one securing the family legacy, Stannis was the one making sure he and his brothers would be comfortable for the rest of their lives (not an easy task given Robert and Renly’s spending habits).

“Don’t glower like that, your face will stick,” Melisandre teased, snaking her arm around his elbow and kissing him on the temple.

Stannis slowly felt the tension ebb away. It was not Robert’s fault that their parents could not be bothered to do normal parent things like care. He didn’t need their approval anyway. This life that he and Mel had built together made him happy and that was enough.

They pulled up to the Oldtown police station as dawn broke across the sky. The station seemed surprisingly busy for five in the morning. 

“Do you want to wait in the car?” Melisandre offered.

“Drove all the way here, I may as well get to watch you yell at them,” Stannis smiled. 

“I’m not going to yell, I’m just disappointed,” Melisandre said drily.

“That’s the spirit,” Stannis opened the door for her.

Frankly the police seemed all too relieved to be rid of them. Nobody was pressing charges, nobody was hurt... Melisandre and Stannis were escorted back as the officer talked.

The holding cell was full of all manner of disreputable characters, and Stannis would have taken some pleasure in letting Robert languish for another hour or two were he not convinced that Robert felt right at home. The man in question was retelling some football game to a group of college kids in Maesters jerseys who were eagerly hanging on to every word.

Thoros looked up on their entrance and waved, the movement jostling Beric who had been using his shoulder as a pillow.

“Stanny!” Robert shouted. “This is my bro guys, the one I was telling you about.”

The guys turned to look. Stannis internally sighed at the confused expression. They had the same black hair and dark blue eyes, but that was where the family resemblance ended. He was shorter and significantly leaner than Robert. Robert looked younger than his twenty four years and Stannis looked older than his twenty two. Side by side, it would not have been clear who the older brother was.

“Robert,” Stannis nodded stiffly.

“You three out,” the police officer snapped, putting an end to their touching reunion.

“I hope you are all ashamed of yourselves,” Melisandre said haughtily. 

Robert scratched his ass. Thoros yawned.

“I am,” Beric said mournfully, and then promptly clapped a hand over his mouth. Stannis eyed him warily but Beric managed to relax after a minute with no further incident, although the color had drained from his face.

“Well I’m proud of you,” Thoros said stubbornly. “Douchebag had it coming.”

“Did I have it coming?!” Melisandre snapped. “Did I deserve to be woken up in the middle of the night from my deliciously cozy bed and dragged from the strong arms of my boyfriend—“

“His arms aren’t strong,” Robert interjected. “He’s never beaten me in arm-wrestling.”

“You are a professional athlete!” Stannis snapped. “Maybe if someone paid me millions of dollars to lift weights I would.”

“—drive hours through the darkness across the country to rescue you and now it’s already morning and I’m going to have to use a sick day at the lab and you haven’t even said thank you,” Melisandre ignored the Baratheons entirely as she lectured Thoros who was looking sullen.

“Thank you, Mel, now stop yelling and we can go back to the pub and I’ll make everybody breakfast,” Thoros offered. 

“YES! Gods I’m starving, I could eat a moose,” Robert beamed. “Everything just keeps getting better and better.”

As he said that, the door to the police station swung open with a crack.

“ROBERT!” The scream was pure fury distilled into a sound that cut through the room like scalpel. Robert’s face fell.

An all too familiar willowy blonde stormed into the station, flanked by Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth.

“Hide me!” Robert whispered and dove behind him. Stannis blinked. He was still completely visible, as Robert was significantly larger than him.

Cersei Lannister marched up to them, and treating the rest of them more or less as furniture, planted herself in front of Robert, eye twitching.

“Hi queen—“

“DON’T—YOU—QUEENIE—ME!” Cersei howled, punctuating each word by whacking him with a rolled up magazine. Finally Robert picked up Stannis and put him between them again.

When the next blow of the magazine hit him instead of Robert, Stannis decided he had had enough. He caught the magazine and yanked it firmly out of Cersei’s grip.

“What are you doing here?” He asked Brienne. “Renly said you were in Hardhome?”

“Cersei caught the evening edition of that,” Brienne said glumly, jerking her head toward the magazine.

Stannis unrolled the offending object. Just a normal tabloid glossy, the usual trash, weddings, divorces, bar brawl.... oh.

“Congrats,” he said to Robert. “Your stupid fight made the magazine.”

“Not just any magazine!” Cersei wailed. “That’s Yes! Weekly, they have three million subscribers! What kind of publicity is that for our wedding?!”

Wedding?

“You’re working yourself up again,” Jaime said soothingly, trying to pull his sister away from Robert. “Deep breaths. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”

BABY?!

“Explain,” Stannis growled at Robert. 

“Well when a boy and a girl love each other very much—“ there was a harsh bark of laughter from Cersei, “I mean when a boy loves a girl very much and she’s using him for sex because he has mind blowing skills in the bedroom—“ 

“Robert!” Stannis felt his fraying patience snap. “Did you knock Cersei up and not tell me?!”

“To be fair, I only found out like two days ago. Surprise, you’re going to be an uncle,” Robert patted Stannis on the head.

“That was forty-eight hours ago! Is your phone broken?!”

“Excuse me?” Cersei tried to break in.

“I knew it! I knew this day would come, you irresponsible idiot!”

“See this is why I don’t tell you things Stanny, you don’t have any sense of humor—“

“It’s a child Robert! Not some hilarious misunderstanding with the Myrrish mafia! Haven’t you ever heard of a fucking condom?!”

“Excuse me!” Cersei stomped on Robert foot hard with her stiletto heel and simultaneously smacked Stannis in the back of the head. Ow?

“If the two of you are quite done with whatever hissy fit this is, can we refocus on MY PROBLEMS?!” Cersei snapped. “Robert, I need to convince Vogue to do a feature length story and full spread of our wedding in two months, even though it will require them to completely reshuffle that issue. But maybe, just maybe, I can sell it as a universally adored and admired socialite marrying her childhood sweetheart. What I cannot do is sell it as some kind of appalling shotgun wedding to a drunken second-string football player with ANGER MANAGEMENT ISSUES!”

There was a pause.

“I’m not second-string,” Robert said sulkily. “I’m the starting quarterback.”

Jaime managed to grab Cersei before she could claw his eyes out, holding her from behind until she ceased struggling.

“Let’s all get breakfast,” Thoros interjected, pushing Robert away from the Lannisters. “Things will seem better once we’ve all had something to eat. Also, those guys totally had it coming.”

“You keep saying that,” Melisandre rolled her eyes. “What did they do, bring up the three interceptions?”

“It was one bad game!” Robert whined. “And yes. And then that guy called Beric maimed and said he must be dating Thoros because he was too fucked up looking to do any better.”

Beric winced.

“What guy?” Melisandre said, in a very serene and calm voice that gave everyone present chills, Stannis included.

“It’s fine, I broke his nose,” Beric mumbled, even as Robert said “Crakehall right?”

Stannis was very quiet as they piled into the cars to drive to Thoros’ bar, because Melisandre was very quiet. He pretty much thought his girlfriend was perfect. She was brilliant and stubborn and completely fearless, not to mention way too hot for him. But if there was one character trait that he possibly liked a tiny fraction less than her other character traits, it was her tendency toward psychotically disproportionate acts of vengeance. The last person who had really gotten on her bad side, one Kinvara Volantis, had been last seen fleeing for Essos. And Thoros was family and Beric as good as—the Dondarrions had basically adopted them in high school—and Stannis was starting to feel like maybe warning this Crakehall fellow to lay low for a couple years might not be the worst thing in the world.

He, Mel, Beric and Thoros arrived at the bar first, followed by Brienne driving herself, Jaime, Cersei and Robert. He was annoyed but not surprised to find that a dramatic reconciliation had taken place between Cersei and Robert and that they were now holding hands. Jaime, trailing behind them, looked vaguely ill.

“And I’ll put a call in to Varys and it will all be sorted. I think we should move on this quickly to beat the evening news cycle. We won’t name any names of course, but it won’t be hard to let something slip to Varys, just between old school friends. We’ll do a follow story next week. We should talk to Stannis about setting up some kind of donation in your name, maybe get some photos with you throwing the football with a couple of tragic looking orphans…”

“Talk to me about what?” Stannis said flatly.

“Oh I’ve sorted everything,” Cersei waved her hand airily. “We’ll just leak a counter story that Beric was being bullied on account of his disabilities, when Robert stepped in to save the day. By the way, Beric, you probably have a Westerosis with Disabilities Act case against those boys, but I think we can probably get them expelled without you having to go to court.”

“Expelled?!” Beric blurted, looking even more ill than Jaime.

“They were harassing you for your disability,” Cersei explained slowly. “Robert naturally feels very strongly about bullying people with disabilities, because Stannis has whatever personality disorder he has…”

“I don’t have a disorder!” Stannis snapped.

“You don’t?” Cersei frowned for a second. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Then why are you so… well, never mind. So yes, Robert stepped in to save the day, and he’s going to start a foundation to provide support for children with physical disabilities to play sports.”

“Robert didn’t save me!” Beric interjected. “And I wasn’t being bullied, or not anything I couldn’t handle MYSELF, and I’m not some charity case that needs a bunch of internet strangers feeling sorry for me! I’m missing my eye, I’m not a quadruple amputee over here!”

“Details,” Cersei shook her head dismissively. “If any photographers try to snap a picture, try to look pathetic.”

Beric glared at her.

“Yes just like that,” she patted him on the shoulder. “Now how is Thoros coming on that breakfast? I’m simply famished!”

“Well you are eating for two,” Robert kissed the hand he was holding, and she beamed at him and Stannis hated them both.

Chapter 5 – Robert

Two evenings previously, Robert had been woken by the sound of someone letting themselves into his penthouse high rise. He had been passed out naked on his bed, still clutching a mostly empty handle of bourbon. Which it turned out was handy, since he was dealing with a creepy intruder in the middle of the night and needed to defend himself. As he listened to the footsteps—definitely two people—moving through his massive open floor apartment he tried to keep his eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. Once they got close he would spring and crack the bottle over the head of the first one and then gut the second with the shards. That was the plan. It was a good plan. “Robert stop being an ass and open your eyes,” an all too familiar voice snapped. “I heard your snoring stop when I let myself in.” Robert cracked an eye. Tywin Lannister was standing in the sunken sitting room area, flanked by one of the Lannister security goons, looking deeply unimpressed. “Well done. Now why don’t you get dressed like a good boy and get me something to drink,” Tywin said in a condescending sneer that made Robert wonder if he shouldn’t just stick with the plan. Robert sat up and put the bottle of bourbon down with a wistful sigh. On seeing Tywin’s arched eyebrow, he decided to double down and dressed himself like a good boy by stripping the bedsheet from the bed and folding it into a toga. Once be-toga’ed, he killed the bourbon and then swaggered past his guests to the kitchen, arcing his bottle into the recycling bin with a perfect jump shot from across the room. “Tallisker?” He asked Tywin. “If you have nothing less peaty,” Tywin sniffed. “Nope,” Robert had already started pouring. “What’s your friend having?” “Mr. Lorch isn’t drinking,” Tywin said coldly. Robert brought him the glass and then proceeded to go back and pour himself a much larger glass. “Another?” Tywin asked drily. Robert turned in some surprise. Tywin’s glass was empty. He shrugged and brought the bottle over when he returned. Tywin poured himself a second glass just as large as Robert’s. Robert flopped down in an armchair and adjusted his toga. Tywin continued to stand. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here,” Tywin began. Not really. More like how? Because this building had like doormen and shit, and his security system was pretty state of the art to keep angry and/or amorous fans at bay. “There comes a time in every man’s life when he is called upon to do the right thing. A test of character, of conscience.” Maybe this Lorch guy had special skills? Was he going to find a bunch of dead doormen when he came down tomorrow morning? “For me, that time came when I was forced to choose between a highly lucrative partnership with a childhood friend and the safety of countless strangers. I speak of course, of the episode the press so affectionately refer to as Robert’s Rebellion.” Hahaha, that’s right. Robert. That was him. They didn’t call it Tywin and Police Rebellion. They didn’t call it Jaime-Lannister-Is-An-Asshole-Who-Got-My-Brother-Shot-Rebellion. “I have always believed in nature over nurture. A child with innate gifts will find a way to rise to the top, regardless of circumstance. Frankly, you have spent your life testing that theory,” Tywin was pacing back and forth in front of the gas fireplace, which he had taken the liberty of turning on. Sure, if you’re going to break into a guy’s home in the middle of the night, why not make yourself comfortable.

“You are not without potential. Your father was much the same way. Unmotivated perhaps. I have spent your entire life watching you squander the many gifts you were born with in relative indifference. I would not have let you get away with this…” Tywin made a vague gesture that somehow encompassed Robert’s stunningly expensive flat, his toga, the bottle of Tallisker he was now drinking from—“puerile nonsense, but you are not my child.”

Thank the gods for that.

“But here we are. You are now facing your test of character, as ill-prepared as you are. And I deeply hope you will do the right thing. Truly,” Tywin glared at him, and even though Robert would never admit it to anybody, he felt just the teensiest bit unnerved. “But if you don’t, rest assured, I can think of plenty of incentives to make your choice easier. After all, accidents happen on the football field every day. Just look what happened to my son. Wouldn’t it be a shame if something like that happened to you?”

“Why don’t you cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do?” Robert said tiredly. Because you know, it was three in the morning and he was hungover and confused and a little intimidated.

“You don’t know?” Tywin raised an eyebrow. “Oh.”

The funny thing was that Tywin had been so convinced that this would be some kind of crisis for Robert. First, he liked kids. Kids were great. Cat and Ned had just had one last year and they’d named him Robb. Robert loved to visit them up north and toss his little namesake in the air and pretend that maybe one he could do this with a child that looked a little more like him.

Second, it had been increasingly obvious to Robert that even if Cersei claimed she could do better (and psh who was she kidding, he was the best), she didn’t want to do better. Every girl he’d ever dated had found him difficult to break up with, but Cersei seemed to find it impossible. She had dumped him when he graduated, then after getting back together and doing the whole long distance thing, she had dumped him when she got to school because he was being “clingy”. She had dumped him after an imbroglio with a cheerleader who could put her legs all the way behind her head. She had dumped him for flunking his world civ class. She had dumped him, she claimed, for the very last time when he had dropped out of college to join the professional football draft—but they’d still been sleeping together plenty and he knew it was only a matter of time before she yelled at him for looking at another girl because he was HER BOYFRIEND, and then they would be back on again. But that was so much work. This way seemed much easier. 

Plus they got to have a really epic party on Tywin Lannister’s dime. If she wanted him to enter riding on an elephant to greet her as she descended from a hot air balloon, that was fine in his book. Anything Cersei wanted, he was fine with. Including, whatever... this was.

“And would you say you are often subject to bullying?” Varys was asking in a sympathetic tone, pen at the ready.

“What?! No!” Beric spluttered.

“But surely you get some second looks because of your off-putting appearance.”

“I don’t have an off-putting appearance!” Beric huffed.

“So no second looks?”

“Maybe some second looks,” Beric grudgingly allowed.

“The subject was subjected to a persistent whisper campaign that made his life hell,” Varys said into a recorder. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“Please trust the process Beric,” Varys shook his head. “And would you say that Robert has always been a hero of yours?”

“No,” Beric growled. Ouch. 

“But he’s very protective of the little guy? You know, the downtrodden, the victims, the pathetic losers?”

Beric groaned and buried his head in his arms. 

“I guess,” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

“Overcome with emotion, the subject had to turn away. However, before he did, I caught a glimpse of a tear in his lone—”

“I’m not crying!” Beric snapped, lifting his head immediately.

Mostly he just looked acutely embarrassed. 

“I think it’s going well,” Cersei said, tugging at his arm and favoring him with a beaming smile.

“You do?” Robert asked dubiously. The smile faded markedly.

“I mean—you do! It’s going great!” He shifted gears. “

“Well I’ll have my people call your people about setting up a foundation,” Cersei said.

“I’m not sure I have people,” Robert admitted.

“I’ll have my people call Stannis and the Oldtown Maesters’ PR department. Varys’ story will run tomorrow, the follow up identifying this Crakehall character will run Wednesday, and I’m thinking we have a photo shoot with the children Friday to get some good press this weekend.”

“I have to be at practice Friday, there’s a game on Saturday,” Robert pointed out. Cersei narrowed her eyes.

“But the kids could come to practice,” Robert said hastily. “It’d probably be really fun for them to watch?” He hoped that would be okay with the team. Really all of this. He wasn’t in the best standing with the coach. Something about being consistently late to practice and bar fights being bad press for the team. Honestly Robert tried not to worry about it. He didn’t have time for that kind of negativity in his life.

“So how are you feeling?” He asked Cersei.

“I was feeling better before you got on the front page of Yes! Weekly,” Cersei pursed her lips. “I know it was a good cause, but I don’t have time to put out these kinds of fires before our wedding.”

“It won’t happen again,” Robert promised earnestly, squeezing her hand.

“That’s good,” Cersei rested her head on his shoulder, and he felt a giddy wave of happiness.

“Because if I lose my Vogue cover, this wedding is off,” Cersei continued sweetly. “To hell with father and to hell with you. Am I making myself quite clear?”

“Totally,” Robert swallowed. She cuddled closer.

“Oh good. And I told Jaime he could stay with you while he’s in town.”

Robert tried not to flinch. Cersei’s moody, sarcastic brother was the last person he needed to see first thing upon waking up. Well, Tywin hadn’t been a picnic. Second to last.

“He wouldn’t rather stay with you?” Robert tried to sound casual.

“Of course he would. But Brienne’s staying with me and if I let them stay together unsupervised, I’ll have to sit on my couch every day knowing my brother probably just had sex there.”

“Why doesn’t he stay with you and Brienne stays with m—“

“Really Robert, you’ll say something crass and traumatize her. I have a deep exfoliation treatment set up for us tomorrow morning at 5:30 and then one of those new massages where the Ibben masseuse beats you half to death and you feel marvelous after. Then we’re going to the ring maker’s to design an APPROPRIATE engagement ring”—she’d totally dug the soda tab thing, who was she kidding—“and I have an appointment in the afternoon at the boutique where Argella Durrandon got her wedding dress. So there’s no time to pick her up from your apartment anyway,” Cersei waved a hand. Brienne looked forlorn and Robert wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to be traumatized anyway.

“Cool,” he said agreeably. He gave Jaime a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Shall we head out Lannister? I mean, future brother in law?”

Jaime’s expression could have curdled milk and Robert gave his own forlorn glance at Brienne. She was so quiet! He probably would have forgotten she was even there after a couple days!

“I assume your eye sore of a car is parked around here somewhere?” Jaime drawled.

Robert wondered if this was one of those problems that couldn’t better be solved with violence. And then he remembered Cersei threatening to call the wedding off.

“I suppose my car is a little loud,” Robert ground out. “It’s in the back.”

Jaime’s completely unimpressed expression didn’t even falter when Robert pushed the penthouse button on the apartment building elevator, or when the doors opened literally in the apartment to a breathtaking vista of Oldtown harbor.

“Don’t you have rooms?” Jaime sneered, taking in the open space floor plan that some designer Cersei had delivered on his doorstep had created.

“Cersei likes it this way,” Robert said, a trifle smugly.

“Probably so you don’t have anywhere to hide your side pieces,” Jaime sniped back.

Gods it was going to be a long two months.

Robert hit a button and part of the wall folded down into a guest bed.

“Good luck child proofing that,” Jaime snorted.

“This is where Renly and Stannis sleep when they visit,” Robert said, trying to envision a calm tranquil pool. The team’s sports psychiatrist had told him to do this when a referee made a bad call. In the perfect stillness of the pool nothing mattered. 

“Robert?” Jaime snapped his fingers inches from his eyes. “Are you still there? Fricking space cadet, and this is who she wants to marry?!”

Robert’s hand shot out, grabbing Jaime’s shoulder in a crushing grip, fingers digging under his collar bone.

“Oh physical violence too? Yeah that’s a positive attribute in a life partner,” Jaime appeared in acute discomfort but snarked back, determined not to yield. “You’re not good enough to marry my sister, you’ll never be good enough to marry my sister, and this wedding will happen over my dead body.’

Fuck the pool.

“We are getting married,” Robert said as calmly as he could under the circumstances. “And there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it. And if you try, well,” he squeezed just a little harder, “I know where you sleep.”

“Like I’m scared of you?” Jaime arched an eyebrow. “Maybe that speech would have been more impressive coming from my father.”

Instead of the pool he saw Cersei’s face, threatening to call off the wedding.

Robert let go of Jaime, brushing the wrinkles out of his shirt. Jaime glared at him, rolling his shoulder, which made an audible popping sound. Probably fine. Joints did that sometimes.

“You’re right of course,” Robert shrugged. “It’s just, like, you wouldn’t be the first person to underestimate me. And somehow I usually win. Maybe I just get lucky?”

From Jaime’s visible flinch, that shot at least found its mark.

Chapter 6 – Jaime

Jaime groaned and turned, trying to bury his head deeper under the pillow as Robert’s snoring from across the apartment grew even louder. How did Cersei handle it?! He hoped someday the biscuit would appreciate the lengths to which Uncle Jaime had gone to rescue him/her from the clutches of this ape. Cersei would probably not appreciate it, which was why Operation Derail Wedding had to remain a secret. But the poor darling was just overwhelmed and dealing with pregnancy hormones and the stress of an overbearing father and if she wasn’t going to voluntarily run away to Essos to raise the biscuit with him and Brienne, he would simply have to break up the wedding himself. It was partly for that reason that he had agreed to move to Oldtown for the next two months. Although he had ostensibly started at Lannister Corp after graduation, he considered his hours to be rather... fluid. And his father would hardly object to him supporting the family. Family, after all, came first. The second reason was that Brienne had agreed to move to Oldtown for the next two months, and it was painfully clear that if he didn’t jump in as a human buffer from his sister, her entire summer would devolve into an indentured servitude to the eldritch horror that was the Lannister-Baratheon nuptials. And the fact was that even though they were far too young to be thinking about such matters, Jaime kind of sort of already knew that Brienne was his forever person. So to have her exposed to his entire extended family, very obviously in the context and framing of a wedding—well, he had to do everything in his power to stop her from running away screaming. So the prime directive was to save Brienne from Cersei. The secondary directive was to save Cersei from Cersei. Jaime finally began to drift off to sleep, comforted in the knowledge that if nothing else, nobody knew his enemy better than Jaime. He’d been with her literally since birth. If there was anyone who could subtly undermine the notion that she should marry this loser because she had internalized her need for her father’s approval as a burning desire to run Lannister Corp, it was him. Plus how hard could it be? All he had to do was point out Robert’s many many failings as both a potential father/life partner and functional human being, but in a way that it didn’t seem like he was the one doing it. (Partly because Cersei definitely followed the ethos of shooting the messenger and partly because Robert actually was kind of scary when he was mad. Not in a Tywin Lannister I’ll kill you and bury the body way, but more in a I’ll get really mad and kill you on accident kind of way.) So it was with drowsy dreams of living in a seaside cottage with Brienne and a very single Cersei living next door with her biscuit that Jaime fell asleep. Only for Robert’s alarm to go off at five. And again at 5:15. And again at 5:30. “ROBERT!” Jaime finally yelled. “Get the fuck out of bed before I shove that alarm clock up your ass!” Not that Robert awake was any better. That sound was Robert running a blender to make his morning smoothie. That sound was Robert starting the dishwasher. That sound was Robert gargling. For the stranger’s sake, he even walked loudly! When he finally, thankfully left the apartment at seven, Jaime dared to let out a sigh of pure relief and put his pillow beneath his head instead of above it. First thing today he was investing in some ear plugs. He took some small consolation in the knowledge that even if Robert and Cersei did get married, she would undoubtedly murder him within a week of moving in. But then biscuit’s mother would be in prison! No the wedding really had to be stopped. At eight the phone rang. That was when Jaime discovered the first thing he was doing today was actually painting a nursery. “Pink?” Jaime said doubtfully, looking at the cans that Cersei was shoving at him. “I thought you wouldn’t know what gender...” “Biscuit will be a girl of course,” Cersei sniffed. “I’m sure of it. A beautiful little girl who looks exactly like me. And it’s not pink, it’s blush.” Jaime shot a look at Brienne who was shaking her head. Poor Brienne was already showing signs of the deep fatigue that no doubt lined his face as well. “I’m think of naming her Genna,” Cersei said. “After Aunt Genna? Why?!” Jaime blurted. Because Aunt Genna was almost as scary as their father. “She’s the swing vote on the Lannister Corp board of course. Uncle Kevan always votes with father and Uncle Gerion and Uncle Tygett always vote against.” “You’d name your daughter—I mean your child—after Genna to get a vote at corporate board meetings?!” Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Really Jaime, I don’t have time to explain it all to you,” Cersei frowned. “Brienne and I need to go look at engagement rings and you have to be here for when the crib gets delivered.” “Why?” Jaime asked suspiciously. “It’s a doorman apartment.” “So you can put it together of course.”

The crib had dozens of interlacing parts that were supposed to form some kind of intricate Norvosi forest scene, and just trying to read the directions (which were naturally in Norvosi Valyrian) gave Jaime a splitting headache. 

The first time he was able to be alone with Brienne was when she managed to slip away after lunch. Jaime was spattered in pink—blush—paint, staring blankly at an assembled crib and several parts that were (hopefully) extras? Or maybe optional? He inspected a screw that might or might not be vitally important to the crib’s structural integrity. It was probably a spare. “Jaime,” Brienne said from the door softly and he grinned at her, and swept her into his arms and gave her one of those slow motion romantic kisses from the old movies that Brienne loved. “You’ll get paint on me,” Brienne finally laughed, pushing him away. Seeing her smile made him almost giddy with happiness, that she hadn’t cracked under the completely unnecessary stress Cersei was putting her through. “Be honest, how bad is it?” “It’s not... great,” Brienne admitted. “If I don’t get to eat meat in the next twenty-four hours I might die. Seaweed does not a meal make.” “My poor carnivorous wench,” Jaime murmured, nuzzling her neck. “I’ll take you to a diner. We’ll get burgers wrapped with bacon.” “Mmmm,” Brienne smiled against his temple. “But I only have two months to drop a size. Cersei and I are dieting together in solidarity.” Jaime rolled his eyes. “You can say no to her. I’m serious. And I’ll do it for you if you want. I have a lifetime of practice. Just let me know.” “It’s fine,” Brienne protested weakly. “Only maybe... do you think you could talk to Cersei about letting me go to my real job with Archmaester Marwyn at some point?” “You want me to talk to Cersei about giving you more work?” Jaime raised his eyebrows. “Well it really is such a unique opportunity, and if he’s going to slap my name on some article I was hoping to at least assist him with some research or even get his coffee or something,” Brienne bit her lip. “You’re inscrutable,” Jaime kissed her lightly. That was his lip to bite. “I’ll talk to her.” “She wants to spend her afternoons in some dusty library?” Cersei wrinkled her nose when Jaime finally managed to corner her as she stalked the aisles of a boutique dress store. “These are all too hideous. I really think I’m going to have to hire a designer and start from scratch.” “Yes, and since you made her last job disappear, you are going to let her,” Jaime said firmly. “I suppose she can work from two to five,” Cersei allowed grudgingly, “and we can do the real wedding planning in the morning.” “Thank you,” Jaime squeezed her hand. “I saw Varys’ article made front page of the Daily Raven.”

Cersei’s lips curved into a smirk.

“It was brilliant wasn’t it? And such a good photo of Robert. And did you catch the reference to our wedding? I’ve already had a call from Agora about covering the wedding—no Vogue yet, but it’ll come.”

Jaime had personally thought that Robert looked exactly the same as he usually did. Sort of good-naturedly vacant. Beric Dondarrion, nearly swamped in the photo by Robert’s larger frame, was looking at him with an admiring expression that bordered on pathetic. Jaime wondered how they had managed to produce that effect, since when last seen, Beric had been close to giving both Robert and Cersei a stern talking to, which was about as mad as Beric could get.

Regardless, he knew he had to get Cersei focused on the actual concept of marriage (which he knew she’d always been more or less bored by) and not on the social coup that would be a feature in Vogue.

“So when will you actually move in with Robert,” Jaime asked.

“When will Robert move in with me, you mean. Can you imagine child-proofing that apartment?!” Cersei laughed lightly.

“Have you ever actually lived with him for an extended period of time?” Jaime prodded.

“We’ve gone on trips together,” Cersei shrugged.

“A little loud isn’t he?”

“You mean the snoring?” Cersei smiled. “Doesn’t he sound like an adorable snuffly bear?”

“I would not have described him as an adorable snuffly bear, no,” Jaime said stiffly.

“Oh really Jaime, it’s nothing a pair of ear plugs won’t fix,” Cersei waved a hand. 

“And will he be helping with the nursery?” Jaime huffed.

“He bought the crib,” Cersei beamed. “Not quite my taste, but I thought it was a sweet gesture.”

Jaime shoved his hands into his pockets where they were promptly scratched by severally hopefully spare parts.

“Very sweet,” Jaime ground out. Robert Baratheon may have won this round, but he was only just getting started. Clearly reinforcements were needed.

“No,” Brienne sighed, possibly in dismay, possibly in pleasure, as Jaime kissed her shoulder from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I will not help you break up this wedding,” Brienne managed, despite Jaime nuzzling her with his stubble in a way that he knew secretly drove her crazy.

“Please wench? What if I put on a suit and asked?” Brienne had been known to gush over Jaime in a suit.

“Mmmm... I mean no! Jaime, I realize this isn’t a traditional wedding, but they both seem very happy and I think you’re letting your jealousy—“

“Jealousy?!” Jaime sputtered. “I’m not jealous of that buffoon! What could I possibly be jealous of? Being one concussion short of brain dead? His alcoholism? His anger management issues?”

“That he has a career in football like you could have if you hadn’t shattered your hand,” Brienne turned to face him, her enormous blue eyes warm with empathy. “That you saved the entire city of King’s Landing and somehow he walked away with all the credit. But those aren’t really his fault, and he has always been nice to you and he’s always been nice to me and…”

Jaime ground his teeth.

“I have known him my entire life and I have never liked him and it has nothing to do with those things! And you expect me to watch my sister throw her life away because he’s NICE?!”

Brienne looked unimpressed. His wench had clearly been brainwashed. Sleep deprivation, a restricted diet, beatings at the hands of Ibbenese masseuses...

“I’m sorry,” Jaime leaned forward and kissed her. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now. I’m just being silly. I promise not to put on a suit and ask you to help me derail this wedding.”

“Thank you Jaime,” Brienne smiled, and watching how her face brightened sent a warm rush of endorphins through him.

“I’m so glad you’ve decided to give up this nonsensical idea,” she said as she melted against him. He stroked her hair.

Oh sweet naive Brienne. He wasn’t giving up shit. He could find somebody else to help him. Not Tyrion, who had always found Robert hilarious. Ugh, siblings. No he needed someone else who appreciated the gravity of the situation. Wait a minute... Very serious siblings...

“I’m sure you can appreciate the gravity of the situation,” Jaime said smoothly, cradling the phone in one hand as he hid from Brienne behind a couch.

“It’s going to be a train wreck,” Stannis said flatly.

“They’re completely unsuitable.”

“Indeed.”

“And you hate to see somebody with so much potential shackle their lives to somebody who will just drag them down!”

“I know! Are we even sure she’s actually pregnant?! This is exactly the psycho next level shit that she pulls all the time!”

Jaime blinked.

“Wait, you think Cersei is the shackle that’s going to drag ROBERT down?” He said.

“Well yeah, she’s a vindictive, manipulative, completely crazy control freak and she’s been obsessed with him since high school and...”

“My sister is a SAINT and he’s an obnoxious boor who has broken her heart countless times...”

“A saint?! What about the time that she spread a rumor that Lysa Tully had an abortion?!”

“She fixed that...”

“Or got that girl Ros expelled by planting drugs in her locker...”

“That wasn’t proven...”

“Or set up a website dedicated to Euron Greyjoy’s autoerotic asphyxiation obsession?”

“He deserved that...”

“My point is that she’s evil!”

“And Robert is a fucking choirboy?!”

“It’s an impulse control problem, not a demented god complex!”

Jaime forced himself to take a deep breath because if he screamed at Stannis then Brienne would definitely hear him and he would be caught.

“We need not get into specifics,” he continued, trying to keep the edge out of his tone. “The point is that I think we can both agree that this wedding should be stopped.”

“Hmph.”

“And the two of us have a strong track record of teaming up to stop the forces of darkness.”

“Do we?”

“Duh! What about when we teamed up to stop Gregor Clegane?!”

“You ended up locked in a room somewhere. Also I think Beric technically died.”

“Well what about when we teamed up to stop Aerys Targaryen?!”

“You ended up locked in a room somewhere. Also I think I technically died.”

Jaime ground his teeth. Then inspiration struck.

“What about when we teamed up to rig the school elections?!”

“Beric and I ended up locked in a room somewhere. Also I think Beric almost died. Were you even there?!”

“I played a very important role!” Jaime huffed. “Look, we will avoid locked rooms and Beric Dondarrion, and we will rescue our siblings from this temporary bout of insanity by any means necessary.”

There was a long silence punctuated by Stannis muttering something about Tywin Lannister not being his father in law. 

“Fine,” Stannis said presently. “I accept.”

Chapter 7 – Thoros

Thoros did not consider himself a morning person. All the same, when the alarm went off at six in the morning, he turned it off before the second ring and was out of bed before Beric had even rolled over. He pulled on some clothes, cursing slightly when he managed to get his shirt on inside out and then deciding it didn’t matter and throwing a sweatshirt over it He stepped out into the small landing of the fourth floor walk up they rented in whatever Oldtown’s equivalent of Flea Bottom was. Even only paying half the rent, it was all he could afford on a bartender’s wages, and even though Beric and his parents would have been happy to foot the entire rent, Thoros was doggedly determined that they would do no such thing. And if Beric minded walking down four flights of stairs in the morning, waiting at an exceptionally sketchy bus stop and then taking two different buses across town to get to the Citadel because his boyfriend wasn’t good at accepting handouts, he had never betrayed any sign of it. Which was part of the reason Thoros was getting out of bed at this ungodly hour. He stopped at the newsstand that Beric walked by every day to get to the bus stop. Sure enough, on the front page of the Daily Raven, there were Robert and a frail looking Beric. Thoros rolled his eyes. “How many Daily Ravens do you have?” He asked the surly proprietor. The man was glaring at him like he could tell a petty thief when he saw one and Thoros better not try shit. Prejudiced jackass. “How many?” The proprietor sneered. “I dunno, two hundred at the start of the day, bit less now?” “Right,” Thoros sighed, fingering his not particularly fat wallet. “I’ll take them all.” Despite some aggressive haggling, the man refused to give him a discount for buying in bulk. Thoros retaliated by lifting several packets of gum on the way out. It turned out it was not especially easy to walk back to the apartment with a teetering pile of one hundred and eighty three newspapers. Thoros stopped at every garbage and recycling bin he could find (carefully ripping the first page of every copy just so nobody would fish it out of a dumpster and spoil the whole thing), and had winnowed it down to about twenty leftovers when he reached the apartment building. Fine. He would stuff the remainder into the crawl space in their apartment where Beric refused to go because there were spiders. He trudged up the four flights of stairs and had inserted his keys into the lock when he heard the unmistakeable sounds of Beric moving in the apartment. Fuck. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to!” Beric called cheerfully. “I’m making waffles!” Thoros looked around their spartan and sad little landing for a hiding space. He managed to fit exactly one newspaper under their doormat. Great, just nineteen more to go. “Thoros?” Beric called, and his voice was definitely coming closer. Hastily, Thoros shoved all of them into the back of his shirt, tucking it in so they wouldn’t promptly spill out. With the sweatshirt concealing most of it, he thought he stood up to inspection reasonably well. The door opened. “I thought I heard you,” Beric grinned, still looking a little tousled from sleep. He was wearing one of the matching sets of silk pajamas that his mother was always buying for him, and his eye patch was a little askew, and Thoros felt his normal surge of affectionate incredulity that somebody like this was living in a shithole with him. “Morning,” Thoros leaned up to give him a quick kiss, already edging toward the back hallway. “Where are you going so fast,” Beric’s fingers wrapped in his sweatshirt. “Bathroom,” Thoros disentangled with a gentle push. It was a moment’s work to hide the papers and he returned much relieved and ready to resume that conversation. Beric however had turned his attention to carefully pouring the batter into the waffle iron. Thoros, who did most of his cooking in industrial kitchens for an already drunk and indifferent audience, was often amused at the strange gadgets that Beric seemed intent on filling their apartment with. The waffle iron had earned its keep though. “When will they be ready?” Thoros wrapped his arms around Beric from behind, eyeing the batter with interest. “Patience is a virtue,” Beric said absent-mindedly, head bent to the task at hand. Thoros stealthily reached a hand out for the bowl of batter. Beric swatted it away without looking. “What’s the occasion?” Thoros asked nonchalantly, continuing his stretch just a little further to try and reach the whip cream can. “Us being awake at the same time,” Beric pushed the can further away. “Beric,” Thoros pouted. “Thoros,” Beric turned with a teasing smile. He placed a drop of batter on Thoros’ nose. Thoros scowled and wiped it off with a finger, sucking that finger sulkily. “It’s all ending up in my stomach anyway.” “It’s not always about the destination,” Beric smirked, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Thoros’. “Sometimes the... anticipation is half the fun.” “If we’re still talking about waffles, I’m going to be very disappointed,” Thoros arched an eyebrow. Beric stepped back with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I’m going down to check our mail. I’m expecting to find everything exactly as I left it,” Beric said over his shoulder. “If you can manage that, I think I can manage not to disappoint.” Thoros promptly removed himself from the kitchen area and settled himself into a couch. He was watching a sportscast with utter disinterest when Beric returned. To his surprise, all of the earlier energy seemed to have dissipated. Beric tossed the mail on their kitchen table and went into their bedroom without even glancing at the waffle iron. Thoros blinked. Then he looked at the kitchen table. There, with all the usual bills and junk mail, was a copy of the Daily Raven. Thoros cursed and grabbed the offending copy and dumped it into the garbage. He went back and poked his head out the front door, nudging the door mat with his foot. The copy he had stashed under there was gone. Fuck. Twenty minutes later, Thoros knocked on the door with his head, his hands being otherwise occupied cradling a plate with a waffle generously dowsed with syrup and whip cream, a mug of hot chocolate, and some cutlery. When there was no response one way or the other, Thoros pushed it open. Beric had gotten back into bed, buried deep under the covers. Thoros sighed and sat down on the bed, putting the plate down on the nightstand. He wafted the smell toward the lump under the covers. Beric’s face peeked out from under the comforter. “Take it—mine’s getting cold on the counter,” Thoros prodded. Beric pulled himself up and took the mug, cradling it in both hands. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Thoros went and got his, gave it a healthy kick of Baileys and then with a deep breath returned to the lion’s den. Beric could get a little self-conscious about his appearance, and on an already introverted person, extra social anxiety wasn’t... ideal? And it didn’t help that Thoros was acutely aware that if this situation were somehow reversed, Beric would be all understanding and sensitive and know exactly what to say. Beric was big on talking out problems. Thoros, not so much. So instead, he crawled into the bed next to Beric and snuggled against him, slurping loudly from his mug. Beric look at him with a spark of tired amusement. “So are you going to eat that waffle or admire my handiwork,” Thoros nudged him. “Not hungry.” “What if I cut it up into little bites and made airplane noises?” “Please don’t.” Thoros ignored him and cut a piece. “Air traffic control to Beric, air traffic control to Beric, do you copy?” Beric sighed and took the fork from him and obediently took the bite. Thoros pulled the plate over and balanced it in his lap. For a while they alternated taking bites of the waffle, eating in companionable silence. “I just don’t get how the newspaper even ended up under our mat,” Beric said abruptly and a little sulkily. “We barely even know our neighbors.” “Er right,” Thoros scratched his head sheepishly. “I might have hid it there.” “You bought up a copy?” Beric groaned. “Why, to torment me?” “Um I might have bought a lot of copies? To keep you from seeing them because I knew you would be upset?” Beric stared at him. Thoros took a defensive sip of hot chocolate. “How many copies?” Beric asked finally. “A hundred and eighty three?” Thoros winced. There was a pause and then Beric gave a snort of laughter. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard! You know the moment I got to class somebody would have said something right?” “Well saying something is different from seeing it!” Thoros protested. “Right, they would have said something and then I would have gone to the website...” Beric picked up his phone from where it was charging and typed in an address. The picture immediately popped up. “And we would be at the exact same place.” “Well I didn’t think that far ahead!” Thoros huffed. “I know,” Beric kissed him, tasting of maple syrup. “And you have terrible instincts.” “What?” Thoros finally registered what Beric was saying because he’d been distracted by the kiss. “I have great instincts!” “If our apartment caught on fire, you would freak out and pour gasoline on the flames,” Beric laughed. “I would not!” “It’s okay, I think it’s adorable.” “I’m not adorable,” Thoros protested. “Sweet then.” “I’m not sweet either!” “You just don’t want people knowing that you’re nice. That’s different.” “I stole two packets of gum today,” Thoros crossed his arms. “Not sweet.” Beric kissed him again. “Objectively false. Very sweet.” “That’s the maple syrup!” Beric smiled, and it seemed like they were in the clear. “That was a composite photo you know,” Beric said. “Hmmm?” “I wasn’t really looking at Robert when they took that, you had just come out from the back kitchen.” “Well I’m glad you weren’t looking at Robert,” Thoros joked to distract from his blush. “I’d have to beat him up.” Beric rolled his eye. “You don’t think I could?!” Thoros poked him playfully. “I don’t think you could and I don’t think you WOULD.” “What’s that supposed to mean?!” “That you can’t stay mad at Robert. It’s okay, it’s hard for me too. It’s like some kind of weird conversational jujitsu he does.” “I can stay mad at Robert! In fact, I AM mad at Robert. He needs to get his woman under control! I don’t have the money to keep buying every issue of the Daily Raven!” Thoros downed his hot chocolate and set it down with an emphatic thump. “Sure,” Beric pushed him. “I’m serious. I am marching over there as soon as he gets back from practice and giving him a piece of my mind!” “If you say so,” Beric shrugged. “But that’s not for another six hours.” “Whatever shall we do in the meantime?” Thoros drawled. Six hours later, Thoros was chewing some gum and reading one of his many editions of the Daily Raven in the third row of the Oldtown Maesters Stadium. “What up?” A very sweaty Robert vaulted the wall and landed in front of him. “You’re an asshole!” Thoros snapped, shoving the paper in his face. “How could you let them embarrass Beric like this?!” “Woah! What the fuck is that picture? We never posed for that! Ha Beric looks like such a dork!” Robert pulled the paper from him and studied it. Thoros paused, his head of steam a little stymied. “How did you not know this was going to happen?” He scowled, shoving Robert. Robert shoved him back and he tripped backwards over the stadium seating, landing hard on his back. “I swear I didn’t, dude. Cersei doesn’t run this shit by me,” Robert lifted him to his feet. “Well she’s put him in a shitty situation! You know how much he hates to be the center of attention, and how much he REALLY hates people talking about his scars. He totally skipped class today and you’re a bad friend for letting your baby mama walk all over him!” “Okay first, he’s an adult who is just as capable or incapable of standing up to Cersei as I am, and second, she is the mother of my child! This shit is so delicate, you have no idea. She could get cold feet at any moment, I swear Jaime is plotting against me, Stannis just sent me a fucking Venmo request for his gas bill to Oldtown and I need to submit my picks for the bands to Cersei by Friday.” Thoros opened his mouth and then shut it. “Thoros! I’m stress eating! I think I’m going to get fat!” “You work out too much to get fat,” Thoros offered. “You’re supposed to say, don’t be ridiculous, Robert, it’s all going to be fine.” “No these all sound like real problems. Except that Stannis thing. Just pay him.” “It means he’s mad at me! If I pay him, we don’t resolve our issues!” “Your issues are incapable of resolution. Just learn to treat them as a charming facet of your relationship with him.” “Fuck,” Robert groaned, collapsing into one of the seats and burying his head in his hands. “Why does everything have to be so hard?” “I’m sorry buddy,” Thoros leaned over and pat him on the back. “Is there anything I can do to help?” “Could you pick up Ned from the airport?” Robert looked up hopefully. “Sure?” Thoros frowned. “When?” “Friday. It’s the soonest he could come.” “Why does he need to be here?” “Evil forces are on the move,” Robert tapped his nose. “We must gather our strength.” “For the night is dark and full of terrors,” Thoros rolled his eyes. There was no reasoning with him once Robert had gone into conspiracy mode. “Alright, text me the details.” It wasn’t until he got home that he realized Beric might have a point. “How’d it go?” Beric looked up from a legal textbook. Poor boy didn’t know the first thing about cutting class. “What go?” Thoros yawned, checking his watch. Only an hour before his shift. “Telling Robert off?” “Huh,” Thoros opened his mouth and then shut it. “Really great. He was very sorry. There was some groveling. He’ll never do it again.” “You’re a terrible liar,” Beric told him. “I’m an excellent liar,” Thoros snorted, poking through his dirty laundry to try and find a work shirt. “I just don’t like lying to you.” “Then what really happened?” Beric laughed. “I don’t know exactly,” Thoros scratched his head. “I went over there to yell at him and then all of a sudden I was promising to pick Ned up from the airport.” “Conversational jujitsu,” Beric nodded wisely. “Since when could he do that?!” “He could always do that. Your problem is just you usually don’t need any convincing,” Beric sighed. “Why is Ned coming anyway?! Doesn’t he have a child to take care of?!” Thoros shrugged. “Dunno. Robert just said that the forces of evil were on the move.”

Chapter 8 – Melisandre

Melisandre’s face brightened when her phone buzzed with Brienne’s name. She started to reach for it only to be cut off by the disapproving cough of her lab supervisor.

She gave a haughty sniff. As if she cared one whit for lab supervisors and their petty concerns.

“Hi Brienne,” Melisandre said in a hushed voice from the women’s restroom, her voice dropped into a whisper so that nobody would hear her. Petty concerns or not, she really needed this job on her resume to apply for medical school. The good news was that there were only a handful of female researchers, so the odds of being interrupted were low.

“Hi Melisandre,” Brienne said warmly. “It’s been too long.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been meaning to call you! I assume we both know why we’re having this conversation.”

“Oh did Thoros say something?”

“No why would he? I just figured it out. I can’t believe this is happening, it’s such a nightmare!”

“Oh,” Brienne cleared her throat uncomfortably. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have asked, it’s such an imposition. You don’t need to help—“

“Of course I need to help! I can’t leave you to deal with this on your own! We both remember the last time, they’ll get themselves killed!”

“Errr, last time? What are talking about?”

“That our nincompoop boyfriends think they’re going to stop this wedding?” Melisandre prodded impatiently. She’d seen that dreadful Yes! Weekly cover, and had picked up a phone to call Thoros to warn him that he should probably burn down the newsstand by his apartment before Beric saw it, only to hear Stannis talking to Jaime Lannister of all people. 

“Wait, THEY WHAT?!” Brienne snapped. “Jaime specifically told me he was past this!”

“Wait, what were you talking about?”

“Oh, um, Cersei really really needs a fourth bridesmaid and she asked me to find someone.”

“WHAT?!”

“I mean your thing is objectively worse—“

“No it’s not! Brienne, you know how I feel about the wedding industry! It’s a gross capitalist swindle that corrupts both the sanctity of religion and the purity of love!”

“I’m not sure the sanctity of religion or the purity of love will be big selling points at this wedding,” Brienne coughed.

“Well I can’t! As a follower of R’hllor, I am forbidden from participating in other religious ceremonies!”

“Are you just doing that thing you do where you make up facts about your religion because nobody knows enough to correct you?”

“...NO!”

“Well okay, because Thoros is going to be a groomsman—“

“He’s a heretic! I refuse!”

“I really wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency, but I’m desperate! I called every girl in Cersei’s sorority! Do you know how many people hung up on me? And those were the good ones! I got a ‘May that witch burn in hell’, somebody who just sobbed on the line for twenty minutes, another girl who asked me to tell Cersei she still loves her and would do anything for her...”

Melisandre groaned.

“And if Jaime and Stannis really are teaming up to stop this wedding, we need to have an excuse for us to be hanging out as well! Otherwise I don’t even want to know what Tywin will do when he catches up to them!”

Melisandre groaned again.

“Please Melisandre? I know you hate all this crap, but I’m at the end of my rope and I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“Catelyn Tully.”

“Already a bridesmaid. And so is Lysa.”

“Ellaria Sand.”

“She said she would consider it if I flew down to Dorne and... persuaded her.”

Melisandre had to snort at that, imagining Brienne’s blush on the other side of the phone. Honestly, she was as bad as Beric.

“I’ll think about it,” Melisandre sighed.

“Could you think about it really fast?” Brienne said nervously. Melisandre’s phone buzzed with another text.

“Why?” Melisandre said suspiciously.

“Um because I might have already told Cersei you would do it and we’re going to be in King’s Landing this evening for a dress fitting?”

“What?!” Melisandre’s voice dipped into permafrost territory.

“Surprise?” Brienne squeaked.

“There’d better be champagne,” Melisandre growled. 

She hung up. The buzz had been an invitation from Cersei to her wedding calendar. With a feeling of doom, Melisandre clicked accept.

There was not champagne. It was sparkling apple cider, which was not the same thing at all, but Cersei had given a delicate bell-like laugh and said she didn’t want to tempt herself with the biscuit around and it really tasted about the same. It did not.

“I didn’t even realize bridal boutiques stayed open this late,” Melisandre confided to Brienne.

“They don’t. They made an exception for Cersei because she’s custom designing her gown with them.”

“Shouldn’t Catelyn and Lysa be here?” Melisandre looked around, trying not to gag at all of the frills and tulle.

“Catelyn said that Robb has whooping cough and her family is coming to visit any day now and there’s no way she can fly down to King’s Landing just to try on a dress. And Cersei told me not to bother inviting Lysa because she’ll do as she’s told and like it.”

Melisandre eyed the dresses dubiously. 

“It’s all set,” Cersei said briskly. “I’ve instructed them to bring out every shade of pink they have.”

Melisandre stared at her.

“Er pink, Cersei?” Brienne asked hesitantly. “Three of your four bridesmaids are redheads and two of Robert’s groomsmen... you don’t think—“

“Oh it’ll clash hideously,” Cersei agreed blithely. “Which is perfect, I really want to accentuate the difference in attractiveness between everyone else and me. I’m thinking pink flowers as well, just to make sure you all blend into the background in photos. Don’t look so glum! At least it’ll bring out the roses in your cheeks. Yours too Melisandre. You both have skin that’s so...”

“Alabaster?” Melisandre offered with a shade of snark.

“Corpse-like,” Cersei continued. “Excuse me miss? I’ve narrowed it down to these seven shades.”

“But,” Brienne shot a nervous look at Melisandre. Melisandre only shrugged indifferently. She had spent a lifetime wearing various shades of red and was used to things clashing with her hair. Plus she refused to involve herself in this enterprise more than she absolutely had to. But if Cersei thought she was wearing anything with frills, she had another thing coming. Difference in attractiveness? Melisandre was fairly deft with a needle. They would see who would be blending into the background.

“Of course you’ll have to wear flats. Melisandre stand up for a second?”

Melisandre stood.

“I’m wearing three inch, so nothing higher than one inch for you, dear.”

She made a mental note to wear the tallest heels she could find.

“Excuse me, Susayn, was it? I’m think a mermaid dress with lots of frills. Oh and plenty of tulle at the bottom. What do you have like that?”

Melisandre shot a look at Brienne, who had the decency to blush.

The situation did not approve once the dresses arrived. Cersei insisted Melisandre try on them all, claiming that Brienne’s figure was much too unique for her to visualize what the others would look like wearing off the rack. 

Melisandre stood, chin lifted haughtily, in one monstrous pink confection after another, as Cersei prowled around her, determined to find ways to make the dress ever more awful.

It was nearly ten o’clock at night before they were done, and both Melisandre and Brienne’s stomachs were growling loudly.

“Time for a slice before you head back to Oldtown?” Melisandre asked Brienne, pointedly ignoring Cersei.

“Pizza? Heavens, you must work out a lot,” Cersei smiled, putting her hand on Brienne’s arm. “Better to skip dinner tonight I think, there’s so much sugar in apple cider as it is.”

Brienne looked like a childhood friend had died.

“Well if you change your mind about anything,” Melisandre arched an eyebrow to encompass every terrible life decision that had led Brienne to this point, “do let me know.”

Brienne swallowed. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” she said weakly.

“See, she’s fine,” Cersei cooed. Melisandre considered whether Stannis and Jaime weren’t on to something.

“You were out late,” Stannis eyed her as she let herself into their flat. It was just where Stormlands gave way to downtown King’s Landing, which let Stannis drop in on Renly when his parents had been away for exceptionally long periods. The style was sleek modern, all clean lines and impeccably clean. It was all very Stannis, except for the artwork which was all very her. Poor dear didn’t really understand that you couldn’t have too much red.

“It was ghastly,” Melisandre said tiredly, balancing a large pizza box, of which she’d already managed to devour half. “What’s up with you?”

“Robert hasn’t responded to my Venmo request,” Stannis huffed, helping her with her jacket and then taking the box from her so she could collapse dramatically across the sofa. She did, and then watched fondly as he carefully put the pizza down and then hung her jacket on their rack just so. She reminded herself that she really should be annoyed with him—after the whole Robert’s Rebellion debacle, he had PROMISED her no more secrets—but it was hard to be annoyed as he rehung the jacket when it didn’t fall exactly right.

“Oh leave it,” Melisandre as he prepared to give it a third go. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s not,” Stannis scowled at the jacket.

“You’re perfect then,” Melisandre stretched out on the couch. “Speaking of Robert, anything you want to tell me?”

“I know you said not to send the Venmo request, but it’s the principle of the thing! He can’t just expect that I’ll drop everything and run to help him clean up his messes! I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, I can’t just fuck off to bail my brother out of whatever disaster he’s created! And now I’ve got Cersei breathing down my neck to sign off on this trust agreement for that stupid charity she’s creating, and I need a speech for the shareholder’s presentation on Friday and I’m not remotely close to prepared, and...”

Melisandre stuck a piece of pizza in his mouth. Stannis glared at her as he chewed mechanically and then gulped.

“Anything else,” she toyed with the collar of his dress shirt, unbuttoning the top button. 

“That seems like a lot,” he said doubtfully, distracted by her hands which were continue to unbutton.

“I just thought,” Melisandre breathed against his ear, her lips brushing the shell. Stannis shivered and she pressed a kiss against his neck. “That there might be...” she began to unbuckle his belt, “... something new.”

“Nothing new,” Stannis managed, his hands falling to her hips. She pushed him off playfully, even as she slipped the belt out of his pants and tossed it on the couch.

“You’re sure?” She asked coyly, sliding the pants off him. They hit the ground in a puddle. Stannis was staring at her hungrily.

“Well?” She pushed him lightly back into an arm chair and then stood over him, starting to take off her own top.

“Well what?” Stannis asked, voice dazed. She dropped the top, leaned forward. Automatically he reached to unclasp her bra and again she pushed him off.

“Nothing you want to tell me?” She purred.

“Nothing,” Stannis rasped.

Melisandre blinked. She pushed herself back upright and retrieved her top. 

“Mel?” Stannis looked bewildered. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to watch television and then I’m going to bed,” Melisandre said. 

“Um, did I do something?”

“Apparently nothing at all,” Melisandre snarked.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Don’t be silly. How could I be mad at you when you’ve done nothing?” She grabbed the pizza box.

“Wait!” Stannis called, as she opened the door of their bedroom. She smiled, but carefully wiped the expression back to neutral before she turned to him.

“Can I have another slice of pizza?”

The entire apartment reverberated with the force of the door slam.

Chapter 9 – Ned

It had been a long night, punctuated by Robb’s hacking cough, and when his one year old son woke up at day break, Ned had the peculiar sensation that he had never actually fallen asleep. He was across the room to the crib before Catelyn had fully woken, lifting Robb into his arms. 

“There there little man,” Ned whispered, and Rob gurgled at him, the soft morning light catching the blue of Robb’s eyes. Catelyn’s eyes, and Ned had to give him a quick kiss on the forehead because it was constantly hitting him all over again, how much he loved his son.

Robb was one now, had followed almost nine months to the day after his and Catelyn’s marriage. And every day he became a little more of a person, a little closer to walking and talking, a little closer to growing up. Ned kissed him again, and then wandered into the kitchen with him to heat up some formula. Catelyn had planned to breast feed until about eighteen months, but was not so secretly hoping that Robb would lose interest sooner. To that end, they were mixing in formula, especially in the morning and at night, and Catelyn deserved to savor her sleep a little longer.

Ned glanced briefly at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and winced. His brownish-red hair was rumpled and he badly needed a shave. There were dark circles under his eyes like bruises. Abruptly, he turned to go back to the kitchenette and managed to bonk Robb’s head on the door. Robb immediately started to wail.

“I’m sorry!” Ned rubbed his head. “Daddy didn’t mean it, Daddy’s sorry.” Inwardly he cursed this awful graduate student housing for making such tiny spaces and having no conception of what family living entailed. Both he and Cat were graduate students at Winterfell—Cat in Medieval Literature and Ned in Westerosi History—and trying to study and grade papers and write their theses and raise a child in an oversized closet was driving them both slightly mad.

If that didn’t make things worse, Catelyn’s entire family was coming this weekend as a prelude to the annual two-week Tully family summer holiday. He didn’t know where they were all going to fit. He tested the temperature of the formula and then put it into the sippy cup for Robb. Robb stopped crying and began working at it with greedy sips.

Honestly, Robert’s invitation/command/desperate cry for help couldn’t have come at a better time. If they blew up an air mattress in the nursery, Catelyn and Lysa could sleep there. Edmure could sleep on the couch. Hoster could sleep in the master bedroom. Plus that got him out of the dorm. It was no secret that Hoster was deeply disappointed in Cat’s marriage. He had always liked Ned’s brother Brandon better, and had been convinced that their relationship was just puppy love that would run its course. When it hadn’t—when Ned had proposed their senior year, and Cat, crying and laughing through her tears had said yes—Hoster Tully had been furious. Ned didn’t have the ambition of his older brother, the earning potential, the connections. If Cat married him, she would just be some professor’s wife. Cat knew that of course. She just didn’t care.

Ned knew that Cat felt the estrangement with her family keenly. This visit, ostensibly to see little Robb and for Catelyn and Robb to join them on the Tully family vacation, was their chance at reconciliation, a chance at putting the past behind them. Ned knew that Cat hoped her father would thaw in Robb’s presence, would be so pleased with his grandson that he might unbend over her less than strategic marriage. Ned also knew that his presence was a hindrance in that effort.

Robb was already asleep again in his arms when Ned made his way back to the master bedroom and put him in his daybed. He climbed back into bed, pausing to brush the hair out of his sleeping wife’s face. Softly illuminated in the morning light, Catelyn Tully was as beautiful as the day he’d married her.

“Mmm,” she shifted in the bed, rolling toward him. “Is it time to get up already?”

“I think we have a minute or two longer,” Ned whispered, his voice rough with sleep still.

When he had tentatively brought up Robert’s request that he visit as soon as possible, Catelyn had been more than supportive. She would never deliberately hide him from her father, but if he happened to be gone while Hoster happened to be there... Ned wasn’t sure who would be more relieved, himself, Cat or Hoster.

Not to mention, he had been feeling rather guilty that he wasn’t there to celebrate with Robert. He could still remember Robert’s delight when they had told him about Robb—he’d been playing for Sunspear then and had driven all the way up to take Ned and Cat out to celebrate at Moondoor, driving through the night to surprise them in the Vale the very next day. Now it had been ten days, ten days since his best friend had found out he was going to be a father AND gotten engaged—and Ned was still watching his wife sleep and wondering if he shouldn’t just stay here and squeeze in three last days with his family, Hoster be damned.

As if sensing his thoughts, little Robb started to cry again, this time punctuated by the cough that Ned had grown to dread.

“Well it was nice while it lasted,” Cat yawned, and rolled out of bed to collect him.

“Mmm,” Ned said noncommittally.

“What are you thinking about so hard this early in the morning,” Cat teased as she brought Robb back to their bed and cuddled against Ned’s shoulder.

“Robert’s wedding. And flying to Oldtown, I guess,” Ned admitted. “Are you sure you won’t need me here?”

Catelyn rolled her eyes.

“You know Lysa is obsessed with babies. She’ll take care of Robb the entire time, I’ll be lucky if I even get to see him. And with Daddy and Edmure... I’m not so sure your presence will be much of a help,” she smiled wanly.

“I never meant to take you from your family,” Ned frowned, taking her hand.

“You haven’t,” Catelyn squeezed back. “As you can see, they are very much still in the picture. I haven’t regretted our marriage for a moment, and Daddy can accept that fact or not. I just hate how much stress it’s put on you, when you’ve done nothing but love me. Knowing that you’re off in Oldtown goofing around with Robert instead of listening to my father’s snide comments about you and Brandon makes me happy. Promise me you’ll have fun Ned? I want to think about you having fun while I’m on this horrendous family vacation.”

“I’ll try,” Ned said doubtfully. It would be his first nights apart from Cat and Robb since Robb had been born.

Catelyn put a hand on her hip.

“Do better than try,” she scolded. “Don’t make me take Cersei up on her offer to relocate all of us to the Citadel.”

Ned winced at the mention of Robert’s on and off again girlfriend turned baby mama turned fiancée.

“I promise,” he sighed, a doleful sound completely at odds with the sentiment expressed.

“Such enthusiasm,” Catelyn had to laugh. “Well who knows, maybe some fun will sneak up on you.”

And for an afternoon it seemed like Catelyn Tully Stark had been right. He got off the plane to a markedly warmer climate, a sunny afternoon and a high school friend leaning against a beat up sedan.

“Did Robert make you pick me up?” Ned groaned.  “I’m so sorry, I could have totally gotten a taxi.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t send flowers and a mariachi band,” Thoros Asshai laughed.

Ned had only gotten to know him senior year of high school through Robert (he had an anti-authoritarian streak that made Ned a little nervous sometimes and meant the two of them would have been unlikely to really bond one on one) but he was easy going and good natured, and after working for two years with exclusively high strung academic types, it was nice to talk sports and commiserate about Cersei’s crazy plans to get publicity for the wedding and hear about Robert’s latest misadventures.

By the time Thoros dropped Ned off at Robert’s apartment, with the assurance that Robert should be home from practice within an hour or two, Ned was feeling almost relaxed. He had time to get unpacked, take a shower, call Cat... the elevator whooshed open and there was Jaime Lannister, looking up in surprise.

Ned froze. Jaime’s surprise melted from bewilderment to scorn with a heaping side of malice in the shade of an instant.

“I should have known you would eventually turn up. I don’t suppose you’re here to confess your undying love for Robert and beg him to call off the wedding?” Jaime arched an eyebrow. Ned was at a loss for words, but a response did not really seem to be required.

“Pity, that would have made my life easier. Well Robert’s bed is over there. I assume you’d prefer sleeping with him over a murderer,” Jaime said lightly, before walking past, his shoulder hitting Ned’s in the process. Then the elevator doors whooshed closed again, and Ned dropped his bags really wishing he’d stayed up north with Cat.

The worst part about it was that Ned had nobody to blame but himself. He and Jaime Lannister had never gotten along particularly well—he found Jaime to be rude and sarcastic, and he suspected that Jaime found him annoying and dull. But they had more or less co-existed without incident until the end of senior year, when the mayor had gone mad and tried to burn the city down.

Ned had helped though! He and Robert had corralled the police and gotten them to the mayor’s house where he had taken Jaime hostage. And when they finally broke the door down, Ned had only said the first thing that popped into his head—“you shot him in the back”—okay was it kind or tactful, no, but it was a factually accurate description of the scene, he was a high schooler looking at a dead body, what exactly was the right thing to say?! And then the police body cam video had leaked and Ned’s accusation had become immortalized as incontrovertible fact and Jaime had never forgiven him.

Ned groaned and slumped on Robert’s bed. And now Jaime Lannister was going to be Robert’s brother-in-law. They were literally sleeping under the same roof! Jaime hated him and Ned was a terrible person and Robert was going to be so disappointed that they couldn’t get along and absolutely everything was a complete disaster.

“Everything is going exactly according to plan!” Robert beamed in the car on the way to dinner.

“Wait what?” Ned blinked. “Jaime looked like he was about to murder me! I mean, not that I actually think he does that, of course, except for that one time and I’m sure it was self-defense but...” Ned realized he was babbling and shut his mouth. Fuck, see, this was why he shouldn’t be accountable for things he said when he was nervous! 

“I know!” Robert gave him a one armed hug and the car swerved. Ned shut his eyes as they narrowly missed oncoming traffic.

“Jaime’s trying to sabotage the wedding. Or he will. Or he might. He’s plotting something Ned, I know he is,” Robert told him.

“Robert, we’ve talked about you reading comic books before bed time,” Ned pinched the bridge of his nose. “And how the entire world doesn’t actually run on vast conspiracy theories?!“

“Except for that time that Rhaegar was murdered by his father and then it was covered up as a political assassination gone wrong? And that other time that Aerys tried to destroy the city with wildfire?” 

“Yes except for those two times which were actually one time because they were connected,” Ned sighed.

“And I totally called it and nobody believed me?!” 

“Actually you managed to convince like a weirdly high number of people. All things considering.”

“Whatever! The point is that this isn’t a conspiracy because Jaime told me to my face!” Robert huffed.

Ned massaged his temples.

“What did he say exactly?”

“You’re not good enough for my sister, you’ll never be good enough for my sister and this wedding is happening over my dead body.”

Okay, well that was a little difficult to misconstrue.

“And I can’t have anything go wrong! Cersei said if I did anything to fuck with her Vogue coverage she would call off the wedding!” Robert groaned as they sat down at the table for dinner and buried his head in his arms.

“Hey it’s going to be okay,” Ned frantically summoned the waiter. “Everything will look better once we’ve had a couple beers, you’ll see.”

“Maybe,” Ned said thoughtfully on his fourth beer and their third bar, “maybe he means he has a terminal health condition and won’t survive until the wedding.”

Robert groaned.

“If only. Appreciate the positive thinking Neddy. Also how long has it been since you were out drinking?”

Ned blinked at the beer in his hand.

“Umm definitely before Robb was born. And then we were so busy with classes... maybe the wedding?”

“Hmmm,” Robert yoinked the beer from him and drained it himself. “Maybe we should let me do the thinking.”

Ned blinked at his now empty hand.

“Okay,” he said amiably. “What do you want me to do?”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Robert grinned. “Almost nothing. I just want you to stick to Lannister like glue. It’s perfect! He hates your guts! He’ll be so freaked out that he won’t be able to focus at all!”

“I don’t want him to hate me,” Ned said plaintively. “I really think if we could spend some time together he would understand how sorry I am about what happened.”

“That’s the spirit!” Robert clapped him on the back.

It was that thought that kept Ned cheerful through his fifth and sixth beer and the taxi home. When the doors whooshed open at three in the morning and they staggered back into Robert’s apartment, Ned was even inspired to wander over to the guest bed.

“Jaime,” he whispered loudly. The lump under the covers twitched. Ned sat down heavily on the bed next to him and prodded him a couple times.

“Jaime, I want you to know—“ he hiccuped, “how awful I feel about what I said that day with Aerys—“ this one was more of a burp, “I’ve never doubted that it was self defense, I’m sorry it seemed like I didn’t, I—“ woah like a really BIG burp, “I just think we should start over you know? Like a blank—“

His entire stomach rebelled and he threw up the contents of his dinner on to Jaime’s bed.

[canvaswolfdoll]

CanvasReads: Spice & Wolf

I so rarely do books.

Well, guess I did the entire Harry Potter series recently.

Point is, I’m not a voracious reader. I read, sure, but at a leisurely pace, reading bits and pieces before bed. It usually takes me about a month or more to get through a book because life gets busy, I have many interests, and it’s hard to multitask while reading.[1] Books also tend to be such a time commitment for me that I have really high standards.

What this means is it took me about seven years to crawl through the Spice & Wolf light novel series. Why did I do this? Well, I read almost the entirety of the Discworld series,[2] and I liked the anime, so might as well.

So I spent a few years alternating in and out of the series with abandon. It never really grabbed me fully at any point, but it served as a decent “Ugh, need a new book. Might as well” series. Now that I’ve read the initial 17 volumes, the time has come to ask “Do I read the Spring Logs and Wolf & Parchment, or is it time to let go?”

Great question, myself. You brillant, handsome bearded man you.

A big criticism you should know going in is that the actual writing is… not great on a technical level.

I don’t know if this is the case with the original Japanese text (which may have a different set of writing rules than the West) or the translation (because translation gets more difficult with more text) or a mixture, but the writing in the books is boring and sometimes confusing.

A big stumbling block is the lack of clear dialogue tags. When Lawrence and Holo start conversing, it’s easy to lose track of who says what because often lines of dialogue get entire paragraphs to themselves, then there’s a line of action, then a line of dialogue that’s unattributed. And, unlike in the Dub of the Spice & Wolf anime, Holo’s antiquated style of speech is not played up nearly as much, and there isn’t as much difference in word usage to distinguish between our leads.

Then they pick up some random kid named Col in volume 6, and suddenly it’s that’s much harder to track.

To be fair, writing unique voices can be very, very difficult, and I’m not even sure I could claim to have mastered it, since I’m too close to my own works to judge fairly.

The issue compounds with the books’ tendency to tell over showing (such as Holo’s much lauded wisdom, despite spending most of the series sitting about stubbornly waiting for Lawrence to solve the issue, before jumping in saying she knew so all along!) and also leaving a lot of details vaguely implied (such as the status of Lawrence and Holo’s relationship at any given time).

Leaving things unexplained and for the audience to figure out is fine, as long as the writer either explains themselves eventually (giving the solution to a mystery plot) or doesn’t require deciphering the meaning to understand the plot (as is the case with most secondary romance plots).

Spice & Wolf however seems to have a tendency to just assume the reader’s following in lock step with its various implication and winks, then proceeds forward without clarity. Which is pretty frustrating when half the book is about Medieval Economics and key concepts only get a very meager explanation.

Again, I don’t know if this because the original Japanese text was vague in parts, or if the translation did a poor job of elaborating on meaning and subtext that may have been inherent to the Japanese.

Then there’s the overuse of passive voice, which I know I can blame of the translator.

The passive voice is a technique that can help you reach your goal, provided that your goal is to have your writing be deprived of excitement and motion. It’s a sentence written in such a way where nouns have verbs occur to them rather than nouns performing verbs.  Basically, if the sentence sounds like an exaggerated police report, it’s probably written in a passive voice. It deprives the characters of ownership.

It took me several books to actually catch on that passive voice was to blame for how unexciting it felt to read.

But enough with my uncharacteristic dive into actual literary form and function! What about the actual story?

It was serviceable. On the whole, the anime adaption was a better experience, since that included a level of visual excitement that riding around in Lawrence’s head doesn’t afford. The actual economic hijinks had the potential to be interesting, but could be hard to follow without visual aids.

The anime adapted Books One through Three, skipped Four, and then adapted the fifth book. Besides some brief world details and a few changes, the anime did a good job of covering the stories.

The fourth volume, however, is probably my favorite story, since it did a good job of utilizing its low fantasy setting, working the medieval economics and socio-political environment into a plot, and actually acting upon Holo’s vaguely defined capabilities (it’s the only time she does anything related to being a harvest goddess).

In fact, unlike in the anime, the biggest drain on the narrative is Kraft Lawrence. In the anime, Lawrence is an everyman with a level of charm and knowledge, while book Lawrence is overly plain and becomes increasingly passive as the books go on. He takes risks less readily, and is just boring.

The extended cast is filled with interesting characters and hidden histories, all of who could carry a story of their own, and our protagonist is a guy moseying along, vaguely wants to own a store, but doesn’t actually pursue the goal with any vigor.

Even Holo, a literal deity trying to find her homeland from centuries ago, is slow to action.

Often throughout the series both will reflect melancholically on how they can’t journey together forever, and they’re both acutely aware of their growing affections, but they never commit to any certain course of action. For a dozen plus volumes, they go vaguely north, sometimes arguing, but such conflicts spawn from Holo being a ‘Mysterious Woman’.

Holo’s been around for ages, and is actually living through a period of decline for her ilk (pagan gods), but she never talks about it, and the narrative never explores it. There is fertile ground in Holo’s being, but nothing grows.

The protagonists are complacent, and the excitement usually comes from a third party. A miller and his priest girlfriend feeling alienated from their community. A Sheep god turned shepherd. A merchant guild attempting to build a town without the backing of noble blood, but with economic bedrock.

All along, Lawrence is wobbling back and forth asking if he should do something about anything.

Then he plays a relatively minor role in the resolutions, and rides on.

Even the introduction of Col to the merchant’s wagon doesn’t really add anything. He’s just kind of there, sometimes making dialogue a little more confusing.

The best stories are the short ones where neither Lawrence nor Holo appear, but instead develop the backstories of those they encounter.

There’s a story in one of the Side Colors volumes that actually shows how Eve became the ruthless merchant we meet in Volume 5. It’s pretty cool.

Then, when she appears in a later story (after Lawrence and Holo somehow manage to backpedal into going south), Lawrence treats the woman who conned and stabbed him with relative indifference.

There’s also two stories following Norah (the shepherd girl from Volume 2) told in first person perspective of her dog Enek.

They’re charming and I really want to steal the conceit for myself at some point.

The strengths of the anime and the books themselves are an interesting dichotomy. The anime finds strength in its characters and the relationship of the leads, with some economic lectures mixed in. The books, meanwhile, really thrive with the world it builds. With some economic lessons built in.

The nameless world of Spice & Wolf is clearly in the middle of change. The power of a monotheistic church is on the rise, pagan gods are diminishing and either disappearing or finding new jobs,[3] and there’s even a subtle shift in how economies function and hints of the inevitable rise of paper money.

Times are a changing, but it’s on the edges of the story, never full addressed but still lending a weight to the proceedings.

It’s a good setting, and would make good inspirations for a RPG setting. There’s something exciting about the concept of gods who’ve already lost a culture war they didn’t know was occuring. They’re living relics hiding in the fringes of society, even those trying to maintain some power in the new world order finding the earth shifting out from beneath of their feet at inopportune moments.

In short, I found the books inspiring if not particularly good. There’s plenty of ideas I would love to steal and run with, whether in my own fictions or collaborative works.[4]

As for if I’ll be reading the continuation… I might as well, I suppose. The stronger volumes are the vignette collections, which Spring Log promises to be, and I am rather fond of next generation stories, so seeing how Lawrence and Holo’s offspring turns out is a inviting concept.

However, she’s being teamed up with Col, who was a weakly written character in this original run of stories, and I’ve often talked of my dislike of large age differences in romantic pairings, so if Wolf & Parchment heads in that direction, I’ll probably jump ship in short order.

Well, this has been a rambling… review, I guess? New job had me out of sorts for a while, so I apologize if my writing’s ended up below my usual standards. I’ll try to shape back up.

If you wish to support me, considering checking out my other works, send me comments or questions, or even giving a few dollars to my patreon. Money brings me closer to my dream of… not having to be on the frontline against the general public.

Gall, do I hate customer service…

Kataal kataal.

[1] Audiobooks are expensive, and I have podcasts to listen to besides. [2] Still have to find and read Science of Discworld. Been reluctant because, well, science is the one subject that neither interests me nor am I good at. [3] An interesting parallel to the Discworld, especially Small Gods and Hogfather. Also Thief of Time I suppose… [4] Ryuutama, in particular, seems like a good fit for adapting Spice & Wolf plots for the table.

#CanvasReads #spice and wolf #CanvasReviews