#<- joke. not admissible in court and not something to be taken seriously

[neonpinksnake]

ME WHEN. MY FAMILY IS UNABLE TO BE NORMAL ABOUT MY EMOTIONS SO I AM FORCED TO EITHER TAKE THEIR ANGER AT ME AND SHUT ANY NEGATIVE EMOTION I HAVE OR PRESENT NEGATIVE EMOTIONS AND RISK GETTING FUCKING KICKED OUT.

#my mom is Built Different. She's just Like That. She's a Professional Gaslighter. I am going to Kill Myse- #<- joke. not admissible in court and not something to be taken seriously #'hey mom I feel angry. I need some time today' #'And what did I do to you? Why are you saying it's my fault. All you do is make ME angry and I never say anything about it' (mom) #'what. I didn't. what. I didn't say it was your fault-' #'If you hate me so much I should justleave this house. why don't you go find another mother huh? yeah. go do that. we'll see how it goes' #<- actual conversation I once had. not too long ago. actually it was last year. I am 22 she's 56. #once she hit me with the 'I can't keep suffering for your choices' when I told her I needed time cause I felt bad #she lectured me about the importance of going to university (yelling. she was yelling and would not let me go) when #I told her I didn't feel well and might be sick so I didn't want to go to uni #sorry for oversharing in the internet it will happen again. I feel like I'm going insane. #okay last one- once she told me to stop being lazy and keep the bathroom clean. I was vomiting. in front of her at that very second. #also yes I still ask for permission to not go somewhere. I am 22. I genuinely can't keep living like this

[lady-therion]

The Ties That Bind [Nessian]

Summary: Cassian likes to play with Nesta’s hair too.

(Post-bonding. Post ACOWAR. NSFW.)

A/N: A little weekend warm up in the Nessian pool—enjoy!

Tagging: @aelin-and-feyre​

***

   Nesta loathed having anyone touch her hair. Even as a child, she refused to let others—her mother, her maids, her governesses—brush or braid it. Their touch felt too close, too personal, and she hated how it always made her feel so...exposed.

   It was why she preferred to style her own hair, much to Nuala and Cerridwen’s disappointment. Even her own sisters knew not to challenge her on this. She had always been very particular about her grooming  and she wouldn’t relinquish her control over it to just anyone.

    Her mate, however, was a different story.

    She had seen the dreamy way Cassian looked at her when she sat at her vanity; how spellbound he was every time she undid her hair. That the General Commander of the Night Court’s armies could be enthralled by something so common, so ordinary...it made her feel strangely giddy. Girlish even. As though his admiration of her was a sparkling wine she would never stop craving.

    He craved her just as much, it seemed.

    She didn’t know exactly when Cassian had developed this particular hobby. But she found it suspect that no matter how long his duties claimed him, he would always arrive home just in time to see her let her hair down.

    Tonight was no exception.

    No sooner had she clasped the handle of her hairbrush than she heard the beat of his wings sweeping over the balcony. This, followed by the sure and steady cadence of his footsteps, sent her heart racing. As did the open-and-shut creak of the double doors that led to their bedroom.

    Gods above, what had he done to her?

    How could she feel such joy, such delight, at something as simple as her lover, her husband, her mate, coming home to her arms?

    “Hello, sweetheart.”

    His voice is low and rough and teasing and it is all she could do to hide her smile as he approached her from behind. Tucking in his wings, he bent to kiss her temple, her cheek, then linger at the crook of her neck. Her eyes shuttered as the faint stubble on his chin grazed her. With him this close, she could breathe in his heady scent. All earth and woodsmoke and something else that was uniquely and undoubtedly him.

    Mine, she thought and sent a tendril of affection through their bond.

   Yours...

    He kissed her again, this time claiming her lips. His teeth and tongue were burning and possessive, as though it had been decades since he’d last seen her, not merely a few hours.

   It was just as she liked.

   “Mmm. Is this new?”

   He plunged his rough and calloused fingers down the V of her light blue nightgown, the lace and satin material a stark contrast against his black leathers.  

   “You ruined the last one.”

    His answering smirk told her he was not the least bit sorry and that he was looking forward to ruining this one as well.

   Not that she would entirely mind it.

   After a short exchange of casual words he kissed her again—softly, sweetly—before leaving to run a bath. Some nights, she would join him. Other nights, she would wait for him in their bed.

   This time, she decided to play a new game once he finished.

   He had just come out of the bath dressed in a soft tunic and loose pants before she sent a firm tug through their bond. Rhys once joked that Nesta liked to keep his general on a tight leash, which she would have rebuffed had Cassian not claimed that he enjoyed being mastered by a strong hand.

   It had taken every ounce of willpower not to blush at his admission.

   He came to her side at once, brimming with rakish curiosity. She was still sitting at her vanity, her hair still bound—a fact he wouldn’t fail to notice.

   “Would you like to help?”

    Her mate’s expression barely changed, but the surge of exhilaration she felt through their bond was unmistakable. Suddenly, her mind was sifting with images, as quick and bright as the shuffling of cards. They were memories of days long past—memories from before they were bonded.

   His memories.

    Nesta, joining them for dinner at the House of Wind, her hair held back with glittering combs, stunning him into a stupor ...

   Nesta, settling into his arms as they flew to the library in Velaris, the scent of her hair distracting him so much he was almost angry...

   Nesta again, bandaging his wrist, a loose curl falling onto her face and oh how his fingers ached to tuck it behind her pointed ear...

   “Stop simpering,” she chided. “It doesn’t become you.”  

   His hazel eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. The kind that always sent a thrill through her body, making her tighten her thighs—and the damn brute knew it.

   “I’m your mate,” he said. “I have the right to honor and adore you however I wish.”

   “Such honeyed words. Do you intend to talk all night?”  

   “That depends.” He leaned down to whisper into the shell of her ear, so much more sensitive than when she was mortal. “Would you like me to use my mouth in other ways? I’d be more than willing to oblige...”

    She rolled her eyes despite his smoldering promise. She knew very well what his sinful mouth could do. Even so, she would not lose her composure so easily.

    “I’m growing bored, my love.”

    “So cruel,” he said, his arrogance undiminished. “Where should I start?”

    “Here.” She reached up into her hair and took out a pin. “Take these out.”  

    “How many are there?”

    “That’s for me to know and you to discover,” she said, setting her jaw in a way that brooked no further questioning.

    Cassian, as a rule, never liked to simply do what she told him to—even when it was clear that it would be to his advantage. No, her mate enjoyed provoking her. He still did, even after all this time. Anything to stir a reaction, to set her blood on fire, to goad her into a verbal (or physical) sparring match which neither of them would win, but both would emerge as the victor.

    Especially when most of their arguments ended in earth-shattering bliss.

    But how antagonizing it all was; that little dance of theirs. How exhausting! But over time she began to realize that the real reason why her beloved general could be so infuriating was because he was terrified. Perhaps even more terrified than she was when it came to acknowledging the feelings between them—their vastness and intensity. Terrified that if he didn’t fight for what he wanted, then he would lose everything. That if he didn’t bait and bicker with her, then she would leave.

    How far they had come since then.

    Little by little, they had both conquered that fear. Diminishing it with concessions and compromises, with acts of trust and moments of truth. Moments like this—where she laid aside her walls for him and him alone.

    Did he know how much that meant? To have him see her the way she truly was? Surely, he knew. Surely, she didn’t have to say it out loud…

   Did she?

   “You’re so quiet,” he said.

    His deft fingers were gentle as they probed for pins, handing her each one as he found them. She placed the pins into a little porcelain bowl—something Feyre had painted for her long ago, in that little house at the edge of the woods. When all she knew was hate and anger and resentment.  

   “I’m just happy,” she said, deciding it was true.

   Cassian returned her small smile with one of his own before moving onto her braid, his scarred brow furrowing as he surveyed the task before him as seriously as any battlefield. Though she hardly expected anything less from the male who watched her do this every night since they began sharing a bed. He unwound the long coil from the crown of her head, careful not to tug or pull. Then held each strand as though they were spun gold before separating them with his fingers.

    She did not fail to hear the way his breath caught as her tresses tumbled down her back.

    There were times, like now, where he would pause to look at her as if he had never seen her before; his face a potent mixture of awe and utter devotion. Nesta was not coy or modest. Men had always found her beautiful. But Cassian made her feel more than beautiful.

    He made her feel cherished.

    Nesta hummed as he took her ran her hairbrush in deep, long, and thorough strokes. Her skin flushed as a tingle bloomed from the back of her neck, then raced down her spine, and from there spread to other unexpected places. And he was only brushing her hair! No wonder he enjoyed it so much when she combed and played with his.

    “Sometimes, I don’t think I deserve this,” he said, softly.

    “Don’t think you deserve...what?” she said.

    He set aside her brush and replaced it once again with his fingers, smoothing down her golden-brown layers before tucking a lock behind her ear.

    “You,” he said, finally. “This. Life.”

    She reached up to grab the hand that settled on her shoulder, turning to look into his eyes. Though they still smoldered with passion, there was an undercurrent of melancholy there. A remnant of pain left over from when he was cast out as a child, unwanted and alone. A child that did not think he was entitled to anything, not even love. It was a wound that had never fully healed no matter how many centuries had passed or how many victories he had won. The root of it so deep and unending that it made her ache inside.

    And that would simply not do.

    She took her hand in hers, then brushed the back of his knuckles with her lips—still red and bruised from the day’s training. Then she kissed them in earnest as if doing so would soothe all of his hurts, inside and out. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes as she trailed more kisses along his wrist, pausing to suck gently at his pulse, which grew more frantic at her ministrations.

    “I thought that once too,” she admitted. “That I didn’t deserve you, or this, or life.” She stopped his ensuing protest with another kiss, this time on the band of his mating ring, its onyx gem matching the one on her own. “But I think...I think you and I were inevitable, Cassian.” As inevitable as a wildfire after a bolt of lightning struck a dry field. “And I think that it’s time we both set aside who deserves what...we found each other. Against all odds, we found each other. ” She caught his fevered gaze, almost pleading with him. “You made me want to stay, Cassian. You made me want to live.”

    From the way he swallowed, it seemed her mate felt the same.

    Then he swept her in his arms as though a spark ignited between them. And perhaps it had. Cassian’s passion was contagious and all-consuming. She surrendered to it every time, just as he surrendered to hers. Every kiss was searing, scorching, scalding...making her body sing for more, more, more.

    Yet it would never be enough. Not even if they lived for another several thousand years.

    He growled low and deep when she bared her throat to him, the gesture undoing him in the most primal of ways. She knew by the glaze in his eyes, the shift in his scent, that he would love nothing more than to dominate and be dominated. Fortunately, Nesta could understand what it meant to want to chase a storm and then stand in the eye of it. And while they had always been of equal footing in bed, the self-doubt that lingered in Cassian’s eyes had convinced Nesta to yield—and yield to him completely.

    So she submitted, baring her her soul to him through their bond like an opponent tossing aside their shield. One by one, her walls came down, until she revealed what lay within—the well of her love for him. Golden and infinite and everlasting.

    Pupils blown and nostrils flared, her mate did not misread her gesture.

    Mine, mine, mine…

    Soon their bond became a fierce ballad of want and desperation. Beginning as a whisper and then building towards a crescendo. Their feral harmony was so complete that Nesta did not know which one of them wanted the other more. Not even as Cassian sank his canines into her neck. Hard enough to bruise, to mark, to claim. Nesta moaned aloud, the soaked heat between her legs yearning for the steel hardness between his.

    He trembled—her loyal and fearsome general—actually trembled when she plunged her fingers into his night-dark hair, clinging to him as he drove his hips into her. Though the layers between them were few, it might as well have been walls of iron.

    The bond roared for skin on skin, flesh on flesh....closer, closer...they had to be much closer.  

    “Turn around,” he said. “Turn around and face the mirror.”

    She spun in his arms, kicking away her stool as she gripped the edge of her vanity.

    Together, they watched their reflections in a haze of lust so palpable that a dagger could have sliced right through it. It was akin to a frenzy. And though they were not newly mated, it was shocking—absolutely, shocking—how much they still desired one another this way.

    No, not just desired.

   Needed.

   They were as vital to one another as their next breath, their next heartbeat.

   So when Cassian indeed ripped the straps of her night gown so that it fell at her hips, she watched him. Watched him with hooded eyes as he reached up to cup her breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers as it peaked into a hard bud of arousal.

   She hissed with pleasure as his other hand felt her slickness. She was wet, practically drenched, and embarrassingly so. But her shame faded the instant his fingers sank into her, opening her, massaging her, curling into her so deliciously that she keened.

   “Keep your eyes open, Nesta,” he said, sucking on the pulse on her throat. “I want you to see what you do to me. I want you to see how pretty you are when you come.”  

    Things had begun to clatter onto the floor: her hair brush, bottles of kohl and rouge, and then somehow, Cassian’s clothing. But Nesta could barely pay attention as Cassian lifted the hem of her gown, kissing and nipping at her collarbone before he slipped inside. And despite his command to keep her eyes open, she could not help fluttering them once—twice—as the hot and hard length of him filled her.

    “Cassian...Cassian…”

    “Yes, yes. Like that, like that,” he crooned, his pace relentless. 

     Nesta had never considered herself a voyeur. But watching them together in the mirror, locked in the most intimate ways, stirred her in ways that she could not even imagine. The carnality of it was so distracting that she almost didn’t notice when Cassian pulled her hair to one side of her neck, plunging his hands into it before grasping the ends as though they were reins. The unbidden thought of being bridled by him in such a way would haunt her dreams for weeks.  

    “Are you there, sweetheart? Are you close?”

    He knew that she was, she just couldn’t give voice to it. It was impossible, she thought. Impossible to feel such swells of pleasure and not simply die from it.

    And there it was...that glorious and radiant peak. Together they raced towards it, tumbling over the edge, moaning together as they came, watching each other as they did so.

    “So good,” he gasped against her throat. “So, so good. Look at you…”

     She could and yet she couldn’t. Nesta hardly recognized herself, or him, as they rode out the waves of such indescribable ecstasy. Eventually, they ebbed and abated. The bond between them collapsing and reforming in relief. A firestorm that reached its fevered pinnacle before quelling itself to a pile of embers.

     Cassian could always be so smug after such blinding intimacy. And she, haughty. But for now they were content to submerge themselves in the moment’s sweet contentment. The both of them liquid and sated and so, so loved.

    “What are you thinking about?” she asked, when she caught him looking at her again. Not as though he wanted to devour her, but rather throw himself at her feet.

    He kissed a freckle on her exposed shoulder. Then another, then another.

   “I’m thinking...that I should brush your hair more often.”

    She grinned as he gathered her close, scooping her up in his arms as they made the short distance to their bed.

   “Maybe if you’re good,” she said as he laid her down, “I’ll even let you braid it.”

***

Thank you for reading, my loves.

Check out my Masterlist in my Bio / I am Lady_Therion on AO3

#nessian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #sjmaas

[bluesakura007]

Undeniable - Chapter 7 (Sad Ending): Never Let Me Go - Khan Noonien Singh x OC

Summary: What was previously a formulated plan for a happy future goes to hell, leaving only a condemned man and a now lonely woman who longs to see him again, even though she knows that it’s never going to happen. 

Warning: This is the alternative sad ending to the story, which I decided to throw in thanks to the fact that I’m basically a little bit of a sadist, so a large majority of this chapter is angst. 

When she did look around the room in this moment, Zinalya saw that the remainder of the court only had a small handful of others who'd raised their hands in favour of the exile sentence.

Her heart instantly sank without hesitation.

"All those against?" Said the judge, to which the amount of the audience's remainder who raised their hand was about three times that of the ones who had answered in favour.

"No..." She said quietly to herself before she could stop the word from coming out. Khan, of course, noticed this reaction, causing his head to turn away and towards this lieutenant-commander instead, his eyes full of concern for both her and for himself. He had only realised that her feelings were mutual yesterday, and it seemed that he was already going to be torn away from her.

"The results of the vote are certain; Khan Noonien Singh, you are hereby sentenced to be transported to the Starfleet facility Sierra-Lambda 3 where you shall be placed into cryogenic stasis with the remainder of your crew indefinitely."

"No..." Zinalya spoke the same word, somewhat louder this time and once more not entirely registering that she had even said it in the first place.

"Guards, take the convicted back to his cell room. This trial is now declared closed." At this, the personnel surrounding the Augment himself did as they were told, causing the pair to only be able to look at one another very, very briefly, whilst everyone behind them got up from their seats and began leaving, with the expressions of her fellow senior officers including Carol showing Khan's same concern. "I'll give you five minutes with him, Miss Hamilton."

It took no more than thirty seconds for her to rush into this same location, the place where they'd shared their heart to heart and the full revelation of his origins and past.

She was slightly out of breath due to her having ran at the highest speed her legs would allow, meaning some strands of her hair in a couple of places were strewn around somewhat messily to match.

"I'm sorry, Khan." She'd expected to feel some kind of huge jolt of despair and a feeling of inner stinging pain if the possibility of her plan failing came true, but she was surprised - also inwardly - because instead, her predominant feeling was a different type of sadness which was making her feel as if her limbs had gone numb. "It obviously didn't work. I tried to give us a chance to leave and be together but it didn't work..." She sniffed. "It just didn't work in the end..."

"I'm beginning to think this is some form of new habit of yours: blaming yourself for things that are beyond your control. You did everything you could; there's nothing either of us could have done to prevent this, which means that includes you." He told her while shaking his head in reassurance, after which he walked forwards and put his arms around Zinalya. 

She wasted no time in putting her own around the back of his torso in return, during which she could have sworn that she momentarily felt his chest tremble up and down to a tiny degree and heard the faintest sound of his breathing becoming slightly hitched and shaky within this same minuscule amount of time, as if he were crying silently and without shedding any tears. Another reminder after yesterday that Khan wasn't as bulletproof as he often seemed.

"What do we do now?" She spoke into his chest as, at this same time, he put his own head on top of hers. "Seriously, what the hell do we do?"

"I don't believe there's anything that we can do without making the matter worse." The man with the black hair and bright turquoise eyes replied reluctantly.

This revelation of him now being due to be rendered dead to the world made him feel like he was trapped in the marionette strings of admiral Marcus all over again; backed into a corner with no way out from what was going to be. He did also remember to himself that, as he'd said the previous afternoon, it was the acts he'd committed in his quest for vengeance that had gotten him and Zin into this predicament in the first place, but that didn't mean this aforementioned current feeling of entrapment was alleviated in the slightest.

"So I guess this is how it ends..." The female one of the two made her own reluctant admission. "I felt like you and me had such good times to come."

"I had the same thoughts, as well." He gave slow, small nods of his head, and then there came the growing misty sensation in his eyes. "But being with you for these last two days and our moments of conversation on your Enterprise were already good times in themselves. Despite our time together being short, I still cherish it, Zinalya." He paused for a second, reflecting on how he was facing yet another misfortune, this one being because of a complex emotion which he'd developed. "Am I damned? Was this because of my life being placed under some form of curse without me being aware of it?"

"No, of course not, Khan. You're not cursed, or doomed, or anything like that. You might not have had the happiest childhood growing up or the happiest reason for being woken up in this century, but bad things just happen to people without any curses being involved. I am glad that, as you said, I was able to be the source of moments you’re cherishing, though."

And then he did something that she’d never from him until this second: as she looked up at him while she gave this reply, he afterwards looked back down at her and smiled. Not one of his calculating smiles she’d seen during the incident of his crimes, but a genuine, soft one. "The days where I saw you you were some of the happiest that I’ve known recently."

"And at least we can touch each other this time." Zin added with her own small smile, as on this occasion he was still in this same room of the court building as the glass cell in which he’d been held yesterday, but he wasn’t currently held inside the aforementioned cell itself, which was why they were able to hold one another at this moment.

Khan pulled her in closer again, him wanting to make the most of this fact as much as she did, and gave her a slow but tender kiss on the side of her forehead. "I’d have no intention of exchanging that for anything right now."

Then, while her own eyes were reaching their maximum point of welling up in return, a tear flowed freely from his right eye, and then the left in addition a few seconds later.

There was no rush to move apart from each other. The two were going to savour every single second of these last few minutes that they had together, even though Zinalya still knew very well that her plan had been turned to dust right before her eyes. 

And, with her heart clenching even more tightly than it already had been doing, the answer to the question in her mind well and truly escaped her: how were they supposed to fit the joys of what was supposed to be a lifetime into what was now only about five minutes?

Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Uhura, Chekov, Sulu and Carol were all assembled side-by-side on the roof of the building, having just observed Khan being taken away and vanishing out of view, never to see him again. There was obviously somewhat stronger gusts of wind up here, meaning that their hair was been blown about to a degree.

The last remaining senior officer out of the group appeared behind them, on the other side of the roof. "I was told you guys were up here."

They turned around to see that the look in her eyes was very clearly a sunken one, eventually managing to make out wet outlines underneath them - it reinforced the feeling of concern for her that had already been sitting deep inside themselves.

"Hello Zinalya." Carol greeted in response, to which the woman she just addressed didn’t give a verbal reply but instead looked back at her and nodded her head for the same purpose.

"Why did you two vote in favour back there?" The security chief’s voice sounded fractionally monotonous as she briefly looked at Spock and Bones before then diverting her gaze to the wide, open sky around them.

The former of this pair answered after a moment, "Because it seemed logical to contribute to allowing you to do what you felt was right, as you are a trusted crewmate, lieutenant-commander Hunter."

"The translation is he wanted to help you out because he thinks you’re a good friend." Said Nyota, smiling slightly in a joking manner.

"And I didn’t wanna hang on to what happened yesterday." Said Bones. Unlike the last time he and the woman he was addressing spoke to each other, his expression wasn’t tight and confrontational: this time, it was full of honest regret. "I didn’t wanna stand in the way of you being happy. I'm sorry Zin, I said some things that were way outta line."

"It's okay." She managed to curl one corner of her mouth into a friendly smile. "Sorry I slapped you."

The doctor raised one hand reassuringly. "It's alright, if I was in your shoes I probably would've done the same thing."

But now that these apologies were finished, the present situation came flooding back to her: Khan was gone, taken away to be put into an eternal sleep, and he was never coming back. Without being able to help herself, Zinalya took in a breath as both of her eyes simultaneously released another pent up tear each, to which Scotty approached and hugged her, gently patting her shoulder with one of his hands. 

She appreciated this comfort that her best friend had just begun to provide her with, but if she was honest with herself, it simply wasn't the same as the loving kind that she'd been given a few minutes ago by the man whose absence was causing her this newfound pain.

In that moment, the hope and optimism within her vanished.

#khan x oc #star trek into darkness #aos #star trek #star trek aos #into darkness khan #into darkness #khan noonien singh #khan noonien singh x oc #benedict cumberbatch #khanbatch #khan singh #stid

[momen-alhoot97]

6:44 PM, Sun, 22nd of November, 2020.

It would have been easier for me to contact you directly but honestly I don't like you. So, I've decided to choose a different approach of publicly shaming us and painting a very disturbing scenery out of our collective but rather unpleasant past. Also, I'm a basic white bitch, so, I honestly don't care about how you feel.. Never did. It's in my job description as a former non-gay friend who hates you from a distance but is so insecure to strike another conversation with you that would end in me rather telling you how I actually feel. Also, have I told you I'm a basic white bitch? I don't want you to get any ideas about how non-racist I can be. This is of outmost importance to me. It's code red priority, next to me emphasising that I'm NOT gay in every sense of the word and any other words associated with it.. Like for example, gay sex or gay marriage, but mostly sex. Also, I'm tripping because I'm on meth. Not methamphetamine, I'm just high on the word "meth" because it sounds like maths and I liked maths in high school -get the pun? High school? As in h i g h school? A place where you get high on science? Never mind, the joke literally explains itself unless you are short-witted like some of you who are reading this non-sense, honestly tho, why are you still reading?- anyway, I'm still high and you are still stupid for caring about how other people think about us. Seriously man, it's 2020. We could have been toast right now because of covid-19. It's the fucking apocalypse, nobody cares who had a dumb fight 2 something years ago and still don't talk to each other. Honestly such a cry baby. Ugh! Why are you even alive? I'm not asking for covid-19 research purposes because it's possible we've all got covid-19 at some point. Maybe it never even left our bodies and we are just moving around unaware of the organisms that have made a fiesta into our little average body fluids. I find it weird that people would even wanna shake hands, hug, or even kiss each other -romantically (that's a thing a non-gay person would say)-. On a second thought, I think people are more allowed to kiss now than ever. I mean.. This is the apocalypse! Who knows if we are gonna survive this. We should at least have tried it once. And I should mention it's better if you have got her consent first, that's the first thing they teach you in sex class (not that I've taken one, I'm just saying). Also, it would be even better if you double-checked, you know, these bitches be changing their narrative every now and then, making you sound like you are the bad guy in her story who raped her uncle when he was 7. You gotta be safe these days. Get them on audio tape or a wire! Anything that can be admissible in court. Also, I have a cousin who happened to be an attorney (this is A PAID promotion, he got me a pretzel once and this is me paying his cheap mf ass back), all I am saying is that you should hire him for sex -pauses for quite enough time to make it uncomfortable- related legal issues. He is also a male stripper on the side, so you can actually hire him for sex, fifty bucks an hour, sixty for that one extra thing you like -winks-. A happy ending for all of us. Byye.

[badsithnocookie]

Unification (5/?)

Acina, much to Eirn's surprise, kept to her word - she had a pilot of her own in her shuttle, an Imperial whose identity was shrouded by their standard-issue headgear, but there were no others accompanying her. Eirn didn't doubt for a moment that there were snipers trained on the position, of course (Theron claiming to have spotted at least two, in her earpiece, did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves - and there were friendly ones, of course, though Eirn knew better than to hope that this might be enough to save her, should Acina try to strike) but-

'Wrath.' Acina looked about as impressed as she had over the holo - both the one that the Republic had captured, and the one that Eirn had taken on Odessen, in the moments following the news that they would not be standing with the Sith Empire.

'Empress,' Eirn replied - offering her a small, polite bow. The title, as it always did, made her bristle; it was an accusation, any more, as much as a honorific. 'Thank you for agreeing to talk.'

Acina just snorted, at that - crossed her arms, and glanced over Eirn with evident disdain.'So talk. My patience is thin, Wrath, and my time is short.'

Which was a good start, though Eirn couldn't say she was surprised. Acina had been brusque even when she'd courted Eirn's attention; now that Eirn had all but declared herself the other Sith's enemy, Acina had even less cause to pretend towards civility than she ever had done. She'd agreed to this, though - the two of them, at the centrepoint between the Republic and Imperial lines, equidistant from backup, and accompanied only by their shuttle pilots. The air was tense, all the same - meetings between Sith always were, but between Sith who were poised to have their sabers at each other's throats, all the more so.

'Empress,' Eirn began - attempting not to pace nervously, and barely succeeding, 'Let's- get straight to the point. We both know why you're here, on Iokath. We both know,' she added, 'That it's the same reason that the Republic are here.' Possibly not an admission that would help her cause, but it was better than attempting to deny such an obvious truth.

'I want,' Eirn added, 'to ask you to reconsider.'

Acina actually laughed at that, after a moment - a surprised, accusatory laugh, but a laugh all the same.

'Reconsider? You must be joking. Are you seriously asking me to step aside, and let you claim this weapon? For the Republic?' Acina was smiling, as she spoke, but her eyes were hard and her posture tightly wound, hostile defensiveness radiating through her aura.

'No,' Eirn replied, firmly - granted, the more she thought on it, the less she had any real hope that the Republic might be persuaded to see reason, but that was why she was hoping Koth and his people would come through. For all that she had come to hate imposing her will on others through violence - for all that she knew it would undermine every pretty speech she'd ever made about wanting to truly change, for wanting the Sith to be something better than the schoolyard bullies that they were - it wasn't a move she was above making, either, not if her bluff was called and her hand forced.

('We have saying, on Onderon,' Aemilia had mused. 'Hope for peace. Prepare for war.'

'That doesn't sound like a very Jedi sentiment,' Eirn had replied, amused. Granted, Eirn knew very little about the Jedi orthodoxy, and in truth, didn't care too, either. but prepare for war sounded more like a sentiment that Baras would have been fond of - at least, if you ignored the hope for peace part.

'I said it was from Onderon,' Aemilia had replied, smiling to herself, 'Not the Temple.')

'I don't intend to let the Republic claim it, either,' she added - 'Or the Alliance, for that matter. The sort of power this place can unleash shouldn't be wielded by any one of us.'

Acina, though, just snorted - looked Eirn up and down, at that, judging her for every moment. 'And who are you, Wrath, to judge what power I may wield?'

'I'm not here to judge, Empress,' Eirn replied, sourly - though there was more than enough judgement on Iokath to go around. 'But the last people to be so blasé about destroying whole worlds were Arcann - and Vitiate. I was hoping you might be more reasonable.'

An insult, probably; Acina certainly looked insulted, though her expression seemed to be cycling between insulting and derisive as it was. Being reasonable was not generally a quality prized among Sith - certainly not the kinds of Sith who clawed their way onto the Dark Council, never mind those who managed to seat themselves on the Empire's throne.

'I am perfectly reasonable,' she replied, sharply - glaring at Eirn, as if daring her to challenge this. 'And I am doing what any reasonable person would to defend my Empire.'

'And you think this will be the end of it?' Eirn replied - who was rapidly running out of ground, and she knew it. 'That if you take this world and its technology for your own, that the Republic won't be scrambling to build something just as bad? That they won't use it, as soon as you do?'

Acina's gaze hardened further, at that - her nostrils flared, her lips thinned, her aura bristled with the static that built before a storm. 'Is that a threat, Wrath?'

'It's not a threat, Empress,' Eirn replied, flatly. 'It's a fact. Or are you really telling me,' she added, 'That you wouldn't do exactly the same, in their place?'

'I'd do whatever was necessary to defend myself,' Acina replied, tartly - or some facsimile thereof, an attempt to cover up her own defensiveness with wit. 'And the best defence is a good offence, Wrath. Surely Baras taught you that much, before you turned on him?' she scoffed - crossing her arms, a slight, arrogant, slouch working its way into her otherwise perfect posture.

'Baras turned on me,' Eirn replied - immediately side-tracked by ancient history, of course, and floundering to try and keep up. 'And what he taught me,' she added, 'Is that Sith who would wage war at all costs do more harm to the Empire than the Republic ever could.' There. Back on track.

Acina, at that, just smirked - a smug, victorious expression, that promised nothing good. 'Then you will be relieved to know, dear Meliora, that I do not intend to wage war. I will end it, with or without you.'

Well, that didn't bode incredibly poorly - just like everything else about this place, and Eirn was about to reply when Acina got there first.

'The truth, Wrath,' Acina added, 'Is that by even asking for this, you have shown your hand. You don't have control of Iokath,' she mused, 'Or you'd have forced us off, with or without your new friends. So you've come crawling to me, in the hope that- what? You can bluff your way to victory? Please. You may have skill with a lightsaber,' she smirked, 'But that's not what's going to win this war, and we both know that.'

Not just one insult - a series of them, Acina not just taking jabs at Eirn but everything she had haltingly attempted. Eirn's first thought was that Acina wasn't being much better; her second was that at least she had skill with a lightsaber, and her third was annoyance that Acina had so expertly derailed her thoughts entirely.

'I would prefer, Empress,' Eirn replied, slowly, 'For there not to be war at all. That's not a bluff. It's the truth. Nobody else has to die, here. But if you try to control Iokath-'

Acina just snorted again, not letting Eirn finish. 'Don't threaten me, Meliora. Strike at the Empire again, and-'

'It's not a threat, Acina,' Eirn hissed - interrupting the Empress, this time. 'The people of Iokath destroyed themselves fighting over the weapons here, and-'

'In that case, Wrath,' Acina replied, interrupting her again in turn, 'You should probably leave, while you still can.' She smiled, at that - her expression that of Sith diplomacy, all poisoned honey and slim knives. 'It would be terrible, after all, were anyone to needlessly die.'

-

The air was no better, in Acina's absence; just as tense, just as sharp, and just as judgemental. It took every gram of Eirn's self-control not to sprint back to her shuttle, as though it could provide some rest or refuge that seemed as elusive on this world as it did on any other.

The fact it couldn't, helped; all it contained was Lana, her own aura muddied with concern, though Eirn didn't like to entertain too many possibilities as to that concern's focus. Lana, for all her having parted with the Empire, was far more Sith than Eirn was - at least, the sort of Sith the Empire prized, instead of punished.

'I take it,' Lana began, as the shuttle lifted off - headed, ostensibly, back towards Republic command - 'That the Empress was not amenable to your suggestions?'

It was accompanied, of course, by a mildly amused smile; a smile, not a smirk, as though Eirn was somehow not the punchline. Lana approved of this stop the war plan almost as much as Acina did - almost as much as Malcom seemed to, and Eirn was rapidly starting to wonder if there was anyone left in the galaxy who was fed up with all the fighting.

'Just tell me that was worth it,' Eirn just sighed - slumping in the copilot's seat, trying not to let her exhausted dejection get the better of her, and mostly failing.

'It was worth it,' Lana replied - her own attention mostly on the shuttle, as they took off, but paying Eirn at least enough to reply. 'I was able to take a peek into the Imperial data network. I'd need time to run a full comparison, but it seems that the information they were working from was the same that we and the Republic received. But that's not our only problem.'

Of course it is. Eirn hadn't expected anything else, though she'd needed to be sure - needed to know, if nothing else, that Acina and M- Quinn hadn't been the ones responsible for forcing this confrontation. That the Empire wasn't- well, the Empire was always fixing for a fight, and fights it couldn't win, at that - but this wasn't their doing, not this time.

Of course, there was a chance that Lana was not telling the whole truth; a chance, at that, that the Empire had anticipated even this, and lain a trap accordingly. This hadn't been the first time Acina had gambled on Eirn's loyalty, and it was the second time she'd lost (but what, her paranoia murmured, if this was no loss? If she is looking for a way to destroy you, to avenge what she sees as your betrayal? And the Empire will see you as a traitor, after this - never mind after your refusal of their aid on Voss, and to aid them in turn against Zakuul. And after that oath you swore the Council, too-)

'Problem?' Eirn repeated, eventually - that word finally burrowing its way through her paranoia's ramblings and not so much grabbing her attention as demanding it, banging its fists on her walls until she paid it the attention it thought itself due.

'Yes,' Lana replied - nodding curtly and, when Eirn glanced at her, furrowing her brow faintly in distant worry. 'I'd need to look into the data more, but it seems as though the Empire have begun construction on their own control device, based on the plans in the data package. The incomplete plans.'

Shit. 'That's not good,' Eirn replied - that was a whole world of not good. If Iokath's own inhabitants hadn't managed to slice into the superweapon without triggering its faildeadly-

'No,' Lana replied, 'It's not. I need to check the data, but-'

'Pass me the flight controls,' Eirn interrupted, sitting up - focusing up, grabbing at her worried adrenaline and attempting to direct it somewhere useful. 'You check the data. If Acina's building something that could-'

She paused at that, though - half not wanting to give that worried train of thought more voice than she had to, and half because Lana had passed her the controls and she needed to concentrate. Her piloting skills had never been more than 'adequate' - she would be useless if they were caught in combat, but adequate was more than enough to get them to the Republic command post.

'We'll need to move quickly,' Eirn finished, slightly absently, the task at hand routine enough that she could let her hands do the thinking, and complex enough to demand enough of her attention that her paranoia was, for once, almost drowned out.

'I'll be in the back,' Lana just replied - disentangling herself from the pilot's chair, before standing to move. 'And-'

'Signal the Republic,' Eirn added, before Lana could finish that thought. There was no way the Alliance could do this on their own; they both knew that much, even if neither Sith was entirely happy with their arrangements (even if one was distinctly more unhappy than the other). 'We need to stop this, before it gets any further out of hand.'

For a moment, Lana didn't respond; for a moment, Eirn was half convinced that she was about to argue, but the moment passed and the tension in the air resolved itself into muted disagreement.

'Very well,' Lana replied - along with a curt nod, and with that, was gone to the comm panel, leaving Eirn at the helm, alone.

Which was, as always, the least of her problems.

#swtor #war for iokath #sith warrior #ficlet: unification #my writing #lana beniko #empress acina #outlander!eirn

[xtruss]

The Father of the Theory of Evolution! Al Jahiz Observed the Phenomenon of Natural Selection a Millennium Before Darwin

— Published: September 27, 2012 | By Joseph A. Kéchichian Special to Weekend Review | Gulf News

Abu ‘Uthman ‘Amr Ibn Bahr Al Qinanih Al Fuqaymih Al Basrih, known to most people as Al Jahiz, was born in Basra (Iraq) in AD776. He excelled as a writer of Arabic prose, with serious contributions to literature and to the corpus of Mu‘tazili theology, and was uniquely placed to add to the period’s various politico-religious polemics. As a biologist, he proposed his theory of animal evolution that entailed natural selection, long before Darwin developed his, and relied on satire and irony to get his points across. Long neglected by contemporary authors and rarely discussed in school texts save for brief introductions, Al Jahiz deserved to be widely read, if for no other reason than to discover his significant contributions to humanity.

Life and Times

Al Jahiz’s family origins are obscure, most likely in Abyssinia (contemporary Ethiopia). He owes his sobriquet to a malformation of the eyes (jahiz means “with a projecting cornea”), which did not make his life easy, though the revulsion he suffered for it may only have sharpened his sense of humour and use of irony to express his opinions. A precocious child, Al Jahiz displayed an invincible desire to learn, coupled with an inquisitive mind that pushed him towards a life of independence. As a practising Muslim, he was fond of discussing a wide range of questions with lecturers in mosque services and, in debates with ‘Ulamah (learned men), he delved into philology, lexicography and poetry. Regular conversations with fellow Basrawis, such as Al Asma’i, Abu ‘Ubaydah, Abu Zayed and others, sharpened his language skills.

This was the first of his several significant accomplishments, even if his more controversial association with Mu‘tazilism, the Muslim school of theology that maintained the Quran could not have been created and that the holy scriptures must not be co-eternal with God because of his perfect unity and eternal nature. Of course, this was, and still is, a highly controversial school, though several philosophers adhered to it as learned men confronted the Muslim conscience. In the realm of theology, how the ‘Ulamah could harmonise faith and reason and in politics, what to do with the thorny question of the Caliphate, an institution that was constantly brought up by the enemies of the ‘Abbasids, were issues that were vigorously debated then as now. Conflicts between Muslim sects and ties with non-Arabs preoccupied him as well, given that he lived among a mixed population that, fortunately, added to his knowledge of human nature. An avid reader, Al Jahiz acquired a vast collection of books.

Al Jahiz contemplated a move to Baghdad, then the growing capital of the ‘Abbasid empire that added value to humanity, where he would interact with eminent scholars, even if his attachments to Basra never waned. While still in the southern city, Al Jahiz wrote an essay about the institution of the Caliphate that won him the compliments of the Caliph Al Ma’mun, the seventh ‘Abbasid caliph (r 813–833), who was known for his attempts to end sectarian rivalry in Islam and to impose upon his subjects a rationalist Muslim creed. This was Al Jahiz’s ticket to Baghdad, where his talents were recognized. But it might be safe to conclude that he was a commuter rather than a permanent resident. He frequently stayed for long periods in Baghdad (and later Samarra), where he composed many of his works, most of which perished over time. Interestingly, he started earning his living by compiling nearly two hundred books, though barely 30 survive. By his own admission, Al Jahiz received considerable sums of money for the dedications he inscribed in his books to supplement his modest court allowance. He did not have an official position, was not a courtier, and did not act the part of an éminence grise or hold any unofficial adviser’s role. He took no regular employment. While the Caliph wanted Al Jahiz to teach his children, this was not to be because, according to a legend, the youngsters were repulsed by his sight.

Consequently, Al Jahiz earned his living through the pen, which give some veracity to the notion that he composed many tomes. As his writings became known and earned him recognition, they encouraged the author to address a series of dedications to various officials, many of whom he met in person. Although he was never close to the Caliphs, he stayed in touch with the leading political figures. Perhaps the most famous Baghdadi official he composed for was Mohammad Bin ‘Abdul Malek Al Zayyat, and when the latter fell from favour in 847, Al Jahiz became a confidant of the Supreme Judge Ahmad Bin Abi Du‘ad and his son Mohammad.

Such contacts notwithstanding, Al Jahiz retained a level of independence in his work and was smart enough to ingratiate himself enough to take advantage of his many contacts, to further his intellectual training and to travel. Towards that end, he went to Damascus and Beirut, although critics were offended when he attempted to write a geography book after one or two trips to nearby cities. The geographers held the view that he ought to spend more time on the road and acquire a deeper knowledge before contributing to the field.

Al Jahiz was not offended and found a rich store of learning in the many translations from Greek undertaken during the Caliphate of Al Ma’mum in Baghdad. He studied Aristotle and other Greek philosophers, an exposure that sharpened his theological outlooks, which he expanded under the supervision of the great Mu‘tazili of the day, Abu Ishaq Ebrahim Bin Sayyar Al Nazzam.

Towards the end of his life, suffering from hemiplegia (total paralysis of one side of the body), he retired to Basra, where he died in December 868. The exact cause of death was never clear, though a popular assumption was an accident, in which the books piling up in his private library toppled and crushed him. When he died, Al Jahiz was 93, a relatively happy man.

Philosophical Ideas and the Theory of Evolution

Al Jahiz was the first Muslim “biologist” to develop a theory on evolution. Indeed, he wrote on the effects of the environment on an animal’s survival chances, as he observed and carefully described the evident struggle for existence among all species. Interestingly, he made a linkage between food consumption and the environment, determining that the latter established, or perhaps, contributed to the physical characteristics of all plants and animals. Long before Darwin advanced his own theories, Al Jahiz noticed how the environment was responsible for the different human skin colours. His “Kitab Al Hayawan” (Book of Animals) stood as an encyclopaedia of at least 350 varieties of animals and, though seldom read nowadays, included critical notions that were unique to the Basrawi. Few can deny his valuable work on natural selection long before Darwin’s Origin of Species: Al Jahiz discovered the notion of biological evolution, Darwin perfected it.

A sense of Humour

This significant contribution notwithstanding, Arabs in general and Arab scholars in particular perceived Al Jahiz as a buffoon, or at least someone who was a jester and could not be taken seriously. Regrettably, part of the reason for this perception was the philosopher’s own fault, as his favourite method was to mix most of his serious work with numerous anecdotes, jokes, and other tales that were not deemed scientific or serious enough. Muslim writings, then as now, were inclined towards soberness and gravity and Al Jahiz stood out as a writer who, even in his weightiest passages, could easily slip in anecdotes, or offer witty observations, or even add what appeared to him to be amusing comments. Whether his preferred method was the result of how people reacted to his physical appearance was impossible to know, although something must also be said to the effect that he consumed oodles of dull prose that, truth be told, disappointed him. Al Jahiz mastered the Arabic language , refused to be bored by what he was doing and, importantly, was strongly persuaded that a deliberately lighter approach would allow many more individuals to absorb serious subjects. So, he popularised some unorthodox ideas and probably enjoyed shocking his critics with his new thoughts. Humour was not simply a tool to entertain but a medium to propagate solemn notions to as wide an audience as possible. His “Kitab Al Tarbi‘wal Tadwir” (Book of Expressions and Refinements) is a masterpiece of ironic writing. The “Kitab Al Bukhalah” (Book of Misers) is that rare collection of stories about the greedy, which apply to all generations, across times. Without the formal training of a modern psychologist, Al Jahiz was nevertheless eminently qualified to write on his observations of human beings, and especially of their behaviour, in his own unique style. How he ridicules schoolmasters and scribes alike, and his jest of singers or even his comments on beggars are all worthy of attention.

AL-JAHIZ (781 – 869)! The Greatest First Muslim Zoologist!

Legacy to Arabs and Muslims

Al Jahiz warned authorities against any regression that could result from abandoning Mu‘tazilism, although he probably gave up the struggle with Baghdadi officials once he concluded that the Sunni reaction inevitably weakened the pro-Mu‘tazili arguments. Consequently, he altered his outlook and devoted his life to literary and scientific activities, perhaps aware that not all battles were of the winnable kind. The fact that he wrote the Book of Misers in the latter part of his life supports this hypothesis, for the avarice he concluded was real and also existed among so-called learned men. Both in politics as in theology, Al Jahiz was a Mu‘tazili through and through, even if he took “for granted the right to submit to scrutiny, accepted attitudes to natural phenomena, [and welcomed] ancient history and legends handed down as truths”, to better restate problems and suggest rational solutions. He never stepped outside the boundaries of the faith, but wished to enrich his proud Arab heritage, which he defended with passion, and was wary of foreign influences. While he tolerated Greek thought, he was “always careful to curb the intrusion of the Persian tradition, which he considered too dangerous for the future of Islam, into the culture he longed to bestow on his co-religionists”.

Many admirers, imitators and even counterfeiters borrowed from Al Jahiz, although history reserved a somewhat distorted image of his many contributions, concluding that he was nothing more than a master of rhetoric. In fact, he was much more than that, a thinker who made serious contributions to Mu‘tazilism, a theoretician who added to our scientific knowledge base and, equally important, someone who seldom took himself so seriously that he could not crack a joke or resort to irony to make his point. He was, in short, a major contributor to the study of adab, a philosopher who rejected the jahiliyyah, and who brilliantly analysed knowledge.

Selected Readings

The bulk of Al Jahiz books that survive are only available in Arabic, including the seven volumes printed in Cairo that make up the Kitab Al Hayawan (Book of Animals), which a zoological goldmine (available online). “The Book of Misers”, translated by R.B. Serjeant, New York: Ithaca Press, 2000, is probably the author’s masterpiece, in which he discusses greed and avarice, long before Molière (1622-1673) — one of the greatest writers of all time — penned his own opus “L’Avare” (The Miser — also available as Avarice & The Avaricious, London: Routledge, 1999).

There are several analytical books, in French, by Charles Pellat, who is considered to be the foremost contemporary expert on Al Jahiz. One of the more interesting is available in English. See Charles Pellat, “The Life and Works of Jahiz”, Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1969. For other useful bibliographical sources, see Conway Zirkle, “Natural Selection before the ‘Origin of Species’”, “Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society” 84:1, 1941, pp. 71-123; Mehmet Bayrakdar, “Al-Jahiz and the Rise of Biological Evolution”, “The Islamic Quarterly” 27:3, 1983, pp. 307-315; William M. Hutchins, “Nine Essays of Al Jahiz”, New York: Peter Lang Publishing, 1989; and Daniel Heller-Roazen, “Secrets of Al Jahiz: 100 Notes, 100 Thoughts”, Ostfildern, Germany: Hatje Cantz Verlag, 2012.

This article is the fifth of a series on Muslim thinkers who greatly influenced Arab societies across the centuries.

Dr. Joseph A. Kéchichian is the author of the forthcoming Legal and Political Reforms in Saudi Arabia (Routledge, 2012).

[metawitches]

In episode 5 of Snowpiercer, LJ goes to trial for her part in the murders of Sean and Nikki, Josie goes uptrain to search for Andre and Miss Audrey takes action to ensure that Melanie will get Nikki the justice she deserves. The Folgers pressure Melanie to go easy on LJ. Bess moves in with Jinju and gets a 2nd class chip implant to go with her bourgeois 2nd class privileges.

It’s a tough episode for Melanie, but she manages to find some stress relief.

Recap

We begin with Andre, who is sealed up tight in a drawer. He normally looks so robust, despite 7 years in the Tail, but now he has a grayish cast to his skin. The version of kronole used as a suppression drug is so poisonous that it gives the entire body a death pall, while turning the insides jet black, which can be seen externally by viewing the gums.

As Nikki claimed, it’s not like sleep. He’s having a combination of flashbacks and dreams. He’s back in the Tail, reliving memories of subduing the cannibal cult. That story was real, and largely happened the way he told it, if these dreams reflect reality. But he killed the cult leaders alone, at the insistence of the rest of the Tail, using a shiv they’d created, instead of the story about group solidarity overcoming an evil villain that Andre told in the Drawers.

The Tail leaders did all share in eating the heart, including Josie, Pike, Last Australian, Z-Wreck, Strong Boy, Big John and Lights.

Interspersed with his memories, Andre hears Nikki singing Sealed with a Kiss, the Bobby Vinton song that LJ played for him. He repeatedly sees Nikki’s bloody, mutilated body standing at the end of an aisle in the Drawers, singing the song, staring at him as if she’s the evil little girl in a horror movie.

Was it trading away the ring that doomed him?

Andre knows that he hasn’t really gotten justice for Nikki. He’s gotten an errand boy killed as a literal sacrificial lamb and sent a 1st Class designer accessory out to take the fall, so the mob can feel like someone uptrain paid for the murders of Thirdies.

The person or people who are really responsible, the ones who ordered all of the murders, are still untouchable, free to order more murders when someone gets too close to their business dealings or secrets.

Layton thought he could put his revolution above individual justice, but his dreams are keeping him honest. The bodies of the victims have probably gotten progressively more gruesome with each murder because they’re being used to send harsher and harsher warnings.

Has his subconscious mind figured out who’s ordering the murders, and who they’re warning off?

Miss Audrey’s spoken voiceover: “I see now that as the Freeze killed everyone I ever knew, I mistook my survival for freedom. But justice never boarded and Wilford doubled down with a jackboot on our throats and a fat finger on the scales. Now, some of us are ready to change his terms. It will be perilous, filthy work. More precious souls may be lost. But we didn’t come this far, suffer this much, to give in to the same tyranny that destroyed us in the first place. Even on a frozen dead planet, humanity needs hope. For these are our revolutions on Snowpiercer, 1,001 cars long.”

Audrey is in the empty Night Car, holding a photo of Nikki from before the Freeze. Did they know each other then? Audrey looks ten years older than she does when she’s performing, onstage or otherwise, as she silently weeps for Nikki.

Snowpiercer has taken its toll on her, as it does on everyone.

Her assistant pokes his head in to signal they’re ready. She nods to confirm that it’s time to enact their plan. In 1st Class, one of the Night Car staff switches places with a busboy from the 1st Class dining car. He pulls out a covered dish from the underside of the cart and places it on top.

It’s lunchtime again for Lead Brakeman Roche. LJ is in the cell and she’s as fascinated by his perfectly formed and packed lunches as I am. She asks him questions about himself, but gets no respect. He remains silent, until he finally tells her that anything she says to him is admissible in court.

LJ doesn’t care, because she’s innocent, so she can’t incriminate herself. Since he won’t tell her how he and his wife met, she tells him that her parents met in St Moritz on a chair lift.

Of course they did. The frozen Swiss playground of the rich and amoral.

She’s just getting around to threatening him a little when Melanie brings the Folgers in. It’s LJ’s trial day, so she gets to go home and prepare. Melanie makes sure she understands that she’s on trial for murder, will be judged by a tribunal of ticketed passengers and will be expected to testify.

Melanie says that Wilford will be following along with the trial. Robert is glad, so that Wilford can see how silly the accusations against LJ are. Roche gets angry, since the Thirdies are taking the trial very seriously. They want justice for their 3 victims. Guess that first victim from years ago, when LJ was 12ish, is back on the table.

Lilah reminds Melanie that LJ is a minor child and the actual murderer is dead. Melanie says this was just the required pretrial detainment.

There’s no provision for a judge or Wilford to determine whether she should stand trial as an adult or a minor then? Because it seems like she’s being treated as an adult, but she was arrested based on evidence that only pointed to Erik, not her. Andre made up the rest of the story and she didn’t argue with him, allowing him to persuade her into becoming a public sacrifice.

Rewatch the scenes if you don’t remember it that way. Layton does the talking and LJ never admits to anything, beyond recognizing the J-hook and being close to Erik, neither of which was a crime. She fully cooperates with the investigation. Layton makes up a scenario he finds plausible, then exaggerates it further to make sure 3rd Class will hate the spoiled 1st Class suspect.

He turned her into another Nikki, so Nikki is haunting him. As a cop, he knows the murders aren’t over.

On her way out of the garrison, LJ tells Melanie that she doesn’t belong in the drawers and she just wants to thank Mr Wilford for the chance to prove it.

Roche and Melanie agree that there’ll be trouble in 3rd if she isn’t convicted.

Josie treats the remainder of Suzanne’s arm, which has developed a serious infection. It’s revealed that Josie was a vet before the Freeze. She’s qualified medically to help Suzanne, but has no supplies to work with and no way to keep a wound clean. Winnie brings Josie a new message from Astrid, asking Josie to meet her in sanitation today.

Bess and Jinju are moving in together, which means that Bess gets a shiny new 2nd Class chip inserted in her hand. The Notary and the Doctor go through a little ceremony with them, in which Jinju promises she’ll be responsible for Bess during the probationary period. If Bess makes a mistake, Jinju will be punished too.

With that, Bess is granted access to 2nd Class and all of its entitlements. The officials offer congratulations, then leave the lovebirds to their celebration. They’re both sure about their relationship and very happy. Three months is the longest Jinju has waited to move in with someone.

Still Snowpiercer’s most adorable couple, with no serious competition.

Back in their own car, the Folgers worry that something could go wrong during the trial, leading the tribunal to convict their daughter. Lilah wants LJ to rehearse her testimony again. LJ is distracted, playing a game, then wondering what it’s like in the drawers. Finally she asks Robert if she can… pop out his glass eye and mess around with it, putting it in her own mouth and pretending it’s a mouth-eye.

Robert chuckles, but Lilah is impatient and insists they get serious. She tells LJ to remember to tell the jury, “He forced me.”

LJ: “He did force me. You do know that, right?”

Robert: “We know that, sweetheart. We know.”

Lilah silently walks away. Maybe because she doesn’t believe LJ, maybe because she feels so helpless.

As the breakfast rush empties out of the 1st Class dining car, Ruth orders her assistant, Tristan, to stop staring out the window. He explains that he used to dream of seeing the Amazon, so he likes to watch it when it goes by. As lacking in imagination as ever, Ruth snaps that now it’s just a frozen lump. She tells him to set the car up for the Tribunal once everyone is gone, using the usual floor plan.

Weren’t we led to believe that there had only been one tribunal, Nikki’s? Or did they just mean there had only been the one murder trial, but there have been trials for other, lesser crimes? If there are regular trials, that makes it even more important to root out unfairness in the system.

Audrey’s replacement busboy wheels his cart into 1st Class and over to Sharma’s table. He says to enjoy the dish, complements of the Night Car, then leaves the dining car while the dish is still covered.

Ruth has taken notice of this unusual display- Sharma didn’t order anything and breakfast service is over anyway. Sharma lifts the cover just as she’s telling him not to. Inside, the dish is live bugs served on top of dead bugs. While everyone screams, Ruth sends Tristan to get Melanie.

Melanie visits Miss Audrey in the Night Car and says, “That stunt was beneath you, Audrey.”

Audrey: “No, it really wasn’t.”

If Melanie won’t play fair, neither will Audrey.

Melanie expresses her condolences for Nikki’s death. But she doesn’t understand Audrey’s anger, when there’s one suspect in custody, waiting to stand trial, and another is dead. What more does Audrey want?

Audrey says that the trial is a joke, since it takes place 5 miles uptrain, with a jury made up of passengers from 1st and 2nd, who are judging whether another upper class passenger killed three of her people from 3rd. They have no motivation to find one of their own guilty.

Melanie: “The Night Car is supposed to be Switzerland. Why are you politicizing it?”

Audrey has a thick book open on the counter. She points to it now: “Third has the right to petition Wilford in labor disputes and matters of jurisprudence. We want a new tribunal drawn. One representative from each class. And a delegation to observe the trial.”

Audrey says that Melanie used to try to make a difference, but working closely with Wilford has hardened her. Melanie remembers when Audrey told Wilford she wanted the Night Car to be more than the brothel he envisioned. Melanie backed her up when she explained that she thought the train would need a place to work through their grief. Now the train depends on Audrey and her vision of the Night Car as that place. If Audrey overtly takes sides, her club will no longer be a place where everyone feels welcome.

But Audrey sees her role as the caretaker and voice of the needy on the train, the ones Wilford and Melanie might forget. She might have been separate from 3rd class in the beginning, but she’s seen how much more they suffer than 1st and 2nd. She’s not the type to stand by and do nothing.

Melanie walks the train everyday, so she’s no stranger to its conditions. But people share their inner lives with Audrey in a way they never will with Wilford’s mouthpiece.

Audrey: “We depend on you… On your voice to Wilford’s ear. Recommend a new tribunal.”

Melanie tries to call Audrey’s bluff, the way she did with Lilah, but this isn’t a bluff. Audrey reminds her that Thirdies work in every department of the train and they can make life very difficult.

And with one significant pause, Audrey hints to Melanie that she knows the truth about Wilford.

Melanie’s next stop is the Drawers, where she asks Klimpt what his autopsy showed about how the suspension drug affected Nikki. He says she had necrosis of her adrenal tissue and hepatic insufficiencies, but he didn’t have enough time to find out whether she would have regained her normal mental state. She wasn’t fully detoxed when she died.

In other words, in addition to all of the obvious side effects of the drug, Nikki’s liver and adrenal glands were severely damaged. This is a terribly unethical situation to continue to keep the other Sleepers in.

Jinju asks if the Sleepers have Locked-In Syndrome, a rare disorder in which patients are fully conscious but unable to move or communicate. Klimpt says they might. He insists that the Sleepers need to be awakened more slowly than Nikki was.

That won’t cure the damage to their internal organs.

Melanie says they have 400 drawers, which someday might all hold Sleepers. They have to make sure the Sleepers won’t wake up traumatized. Klimpt says he’s trying.

That’s a lot of prisoners and experiments and a lot of concern for their welfare when they wake up. Something else is going on here. Is she hoping to eventually sell spots in stasis to the highest bidder, so Firsties can sleep through the rest of the ice age instead of using up resources and growing old?

They should start by using a drug that doesn’t turn sleepers’ mouths black.

Jinju has heard the rumor that the Thirdies want a spot on the Tribunal. Melanie is considering giving in. She tells Jinju that LJ may get what she deserves. Jinju doesn’t look as certain as Melanie that it’s a good idea.

Up in the engine, Ben and Javi are also skeptical about upsetting the status quo, especially Javi, who thinks pushing the Firsties too hard will aggravate the train’s class divisions too much.

Which leaves Melanie stuck, since 3rd is already aggravated. She asks Javi to take the wheel while she speaks to Ben privately.

Melanie and Ben go to her cabin, where they have an afternoon quickie on her desk, not even pausing to move Mr Wilford’s paperwork.

What will the boss think???

Afterwards, Ben lies in Melanie’s tiny single bed and says they haven’t had sex since the bees died. He’s sensing a pattern.

You think??? The woman really is a death goddess.

They briefly indulge in remembering what they miss most- Melanie wishes she could open a window or go for a walk. Ben misses the sound of rain. When he asks if she’s really going to change the rules for the tribunal, she says she just wants to breathe.

The tribunal is chosen using ping pong balls randomly drawn from a cage, the way bingo numbers are chosen. Each passenger is assigned a number. The Voice of the Train announces that Mr Wilford has agreed to allow a 3rd Class member on the Tribunal, so one name has been chosen from each class.

Ruth’s face makes it clear that this decision is sure to bring on the general downfall of civilization.

The tribunal members are Firstie Edith Gusterfeld, 2nd Class primary teacher Mary-Elizabeth Gillies, and Thirdie papermaker Walter Flemming. 3rd Class cheers their representative as he makes his way to Hospitality.

Josie has joined the sanitation crew again so she can search for Andre. At break time, Astrid knocks on the second door in the break room and tells the Tailie crew that Josie should meet Terence the Janitor in the Market, at the symbol of the yellow butterfly. She and Josie switch clothes so that Astrid can take Josie’s place until the next break.

Melanie greets the tribunal members as they arrive in the hospitality office. The tribunal members are friendly and open with each other as they get acquainted, even the Firstie, Edith Gusterfeld. She laments that she doesn’t get to mingle with other classes more.

Ruth: “Doesn’t Mr Wilford understand that you can’t just change the rules?”

Melanie: “I guess they’re his rules to change. He chose the will of the people.”

Ruth: “We don’t have will. We have order.”

Ruth walks out. Her assistant opens and closes the door for her.

Guess Ruth missed the page in the Big Book of Snowpiercer’s Rules of Order that Audrey pointed out earlier.

Till and Oz are tasked with bringing the delegation from 3rd to the 1st Class dining car. He accuses her of having joined the bourgeoisie. She retaliates by asking if he’s still trading drugs for sex. He says his probation is almost over. She says she wants to stay at the trial long enough to hear Jinju’s testimony. They achieve a truce of sorts.

He gathers the delegation and makes a speech instructing them to act like people rather than animals while they’re uptrain, then he and Till lead the delegation the 5 miles from the Night Car to the 1st Class dining car, accompanied by a unit of jackboots.

As the delegation moves uptrain, Robert tries to convince Lilah that everything will be fine. But Lilah understands the truth: “You don’t see what’s happening, do you? There’s an idea traveling uptrain, Robert. It wants to live, this idea. It wants to set the train ablaze and all it needs is a spark. All it needs is to wrap its thick fingers around your daughter’s throat and choke her out for the working man.”

Lj enters the room and Lilah tells her they should continue working on her testimony. Lilah must have gotten through to Robert, because he tells her he’ll take care of it.

From Lilah’s prediction to Layton in the drawer, having nightmares about the cannibals in the Tail. It’s not clear if these are accurate, if jumbled, memories, but I’m assuming they are. If so, it’s a strange story, since everyone else made Layton face the cannibals alone. When Layton told the story, he made it sound like most of the Tail had fought the kill cult.

He looks like he might have been drugged into taking the job, as if the rest of the Tail tried to send him back to the cannibals to be their next sacrifice and got lucky when he killed the cannibals instead. He puts Miles up in a bunk to keep him safe. Everyone wishes him luck as they insist he has to save them. Mama Grandé gives him a weapon, then he charges the cannibals’ lair.

Josie finds the Market, then one of the janitors finds her and brings her to Terence at knifepoint. Terence hasn’t been paid for this meeting and is only interested in how it might benefit him. Josie explains that they think Layton is in a drawer. Terence suggests that Layton might have made Wilford mad and have gotten “his head stuck out a port.”

There’s a fun thought. That would certainly make it hard to identify his body, unless you knew him really well.

Terence and Annie were considering taking a trip to the drawers themselves, so they decide to go along with Josie that afternoon, while the train is distracted with LJ’s trial.

Robert and a delegation of Firsties, including Sharma, Eugenia and Martin Colvin, meet with Commander Grey to discuss a regime change. Robert makes it clear that he’s not a bigot. He’s just a conservative attempting to maintain order. It doesn’t do anyone any good for Thirdies to get ideas above their station.

Grey asks if Robert is speaking as a citizen or LJ’s father. Robert says both. The rest of the delegation stand behind him. They’re all afraid that 3rd will come for their children. Grey says his job is to uphold the rules. He doesn’t make them.

Eugenia says that since Wilford has locked himself away, he’s grown out of touch with the needs of the people. Grey points out that Wilford has “the skills to keep us all alive.” He asks what Eugenia brings to the table. She says she has hundreds of millions of dollars in early investor status and “a whole world of pain when it comes to my survival.”

What does that threat mean? She’s talking to the man who commands the only remaining standing army. How does she think she’ll physically harm him? Does she have nuclear codes that she thinks will still work? A mobster shadow army?

Sharma interrupts Eugenia’s rant and explains that they’re fine leaving Wilford to himself. They’re more concerned with the day-to-day aspects of running the train- everything that isn’t military and infrastructure- and feel they’d do a better job in charge of those aspects. Grey asks about Melanie. Robert says she’d be the first to go.

Grey nods slightly, but stays silent.

I thought Grey hated Melanie and wanted her out, but something about that conversation makes me think he knows she’s Wilford and supports her. Kudos again to Timothy V. Murphy. He kills it in this role.

Martin Colvin turns out to be one of Melanie’s spies and runs straight to her with the story. She asks how Grey reacted. Colvin says the Commander just stared at them, coldly.  She tells Colvin she’ll speed up his renovations.

As they leave for the trial, Lilah gives LJ a few last minute reminders: cry contrite tears, make eye contact and be sincere. Robert pulls his Lilahs in for a family hug. A jackboot escorts LJ to the trial.

In the dining car, Ruth acts as judge to keep order during the trial. She says that tribunals are called to handle cases of crime, conspiracy or negligence. LJ is accused of 2 counts of murder.

Roche is the first witness: “Once the accused was apprehended, the brakemen did a full and thorough search of the Folgers’ quarters. There we found the most striking evidence in the case. Hidden in Lilah Junior’s jewelry box were the particularly preserved, severed penises of two male victims.”

Tristan brings out a jewelry box with the souvenirs in it and shows the Tribunal and the crowd.

I hate to discredit Roche, but every witness in this trial has serious issues. LJ looks shocked when the jewelry box is brought out. If it was found in her room, shouldn’t she and her parents have known and been prepared for this testimony? More importantly, it would have been simple for one of the brakemen who searched the room (cough *OZ* cough) to plant the souvenirs in the jewelry box or even just in the evidence file later, in order to falsify evidence.

Most importantly, no teenage girl hides severed penises in her jewelry box, where her mother might find them while looking for a pair of earrings. The souvenirs would have been hidden more carefully. A jewelry box is the kind of place a man would think a woman would put them and would have easy access to during a search when he wanted to plant evidence. Roche may or may not know the evidence was planted.

Erik could have also known he was in trouble and have planted them there to implicate LJ.

Let’s remember how many men have died in recent episodes, from Tailies to butchers to Erik. Penises to preserve and use as false evidence aren’t hard to come by on Snowpiercer. But my guess is that they found the appendages when they searched Erik’s hidey hole in the storage closet, then planted them to ensure LJ’s conviction. Erik was the serial killer and collector, not LJ.

Next up is Dr Pelton, who did her very first autopsy on Sean Wise. She was led through it by Layton, but now she’s an expert, embellishing her findings as well. As she discusses her findings, Tristan shows the J-Hook around, which now has LJ’s fingerprints on it.

That would explain why LJ sat in front of Layton and made the chopping motion with it.

Sometimes I’m extra slow on the uptake. This why I write 10k word recaps instead of 1 page police detective reports.

Dr Pelton: “Sean Wise was bound and choked multiple times with a thin ligature. He was very much alive when his genitals were chopped off.”

Moving on, the Tunnelman who found Sean’s body plays up the horror of finding such a coldly mutilated human being. If you’ll recall, when Layton and Till interviewed him at the cannibal lunch counter, his only emotion was impatience at having to tell the story a second time, since he’d already told everything he remembered to the brakemen.

Then it’s Jinju’s turn. She sells LJ up the river as the criminal mastermind who controlled Erik, her serial killer puppet and partner in a wicked conspiracy.

Jinju: The whole time, Erik’s focus was Lilah Junior. I was as much her hostage as I was his. (Jinju takes a long look at LJ.) That was what they wanted, Erik and LJ, to kill us all in a nihilistic rage. But the Eternal Engine is still here.”

In fact, Erik said “she” had predicted something and Jinju asked if he meant his girl. Erik ignored her. A little later, Jinju repeatedly asked him his name, which he ignored. But Erik was careful to make sure Jinju wasn’t harmed, even when he shot at the electrical box and knew he was about to die. There’s no evidence that the “she” he referred to was LJ and there was no way for Jinju to know what he was thinking about, unless she’s psychic.

Miss Audrey testifies on behalf of Nikki. She tells her listeners that Nikki was a beautiful person who’s been ignored by the upper classes, just like 3rd Class always is. But it’s time for them to start caring, because they depend on Thirdies for their lives to run smoothly. Meanwhile the Thirdies suffer physical hardships 2nd Class and Firsties don’t experience. Miss Audrey says that she hasn’t come to her current political stance easily. In the beginning, she agreed with Wilfred’s order. But after 7 years, the train needs compassion and justice for more than just the rich.

She says Nikki’s name, in a nod to the “Say Her Name” movement, as the crowd erupts. Ruth calls a recess, after which LJ will testify.

Annie the janitor stops Klimpt as he’s on his way back to the trial and pickpockets his keys to the drawers. Josie, Terence and Annie break in, then the two janitors quickly steal large quantities of chemicals, probably the suppression drug or its precursors, and leave. They toss Josie the keys to the individual drawers on their way out and wish her luck, assuring her this isn’t personal, just business. Josie also pockets a few tubes of medication, likely including an antibiotic for Suzanne.

Melanie pulls Lilah aside in the corridor and warns her to stop her political machinations.

Lilah: “Let me tell you a Folger family story. When LJ was 7, she put out Robert’s eye. Lashed out with a fork and punctured it all over his face. And even as the jelly was running down his cheek, he held her through the tantrum, protecting her. So you go ahead with your Hospitality show trial and prepare to suffer the consequences. Because you’re messing with my bloodline.”

Lilah walks away. A group of passengers is standing several feet behind Melanie, undoubtedly eavesdropping, ready to spread the story of LJ’s history. Rather than proclaim Lilah Junior’s innocence to the train, Lilah’s defense strategy is to turn her daughter into a force to be reckoned with, just as LJ wished for in her conversation with Layton about cannibalism.

As always, the eye story may or may not be the whole truth. It doesn’t matter, just like it doesn’t matter with the testimony against LJ. The point is that Lilah claims royal privilege for her daughter and has already proven in words and deeds that she’ll back it up with a scorched earth war against Melanie if her child comes to any real harm.

Josie frantically searches the files and open surfaces in the Drawers, hoping to find something that will indicate which drawer Layton is in. She knows she doesn’t have time to open 400 drawers.

LJ swears to tell the truth, then goes straight for the contrite tears her mother suggested. She says she loved Erik, but he had a power over her that left her afraid and confused. She’s unsure whether that was really love, but Erik said it was.

She looks straight at Melanie when she gets to the important part.

LJ: “He made me watch him do terrible things and I can still hear those men begging for it to end. Uh, but Erik said fear makes people honest. I think that’s true. Sean Wise, just before he died, said he was an informant, a spy for Mr Wilford. Sean said that shadows and lies were taking over our beautiful train, from tip to Tail, from Ag-Sec to the Drawers. “400 hundred secrets that rock us to the rails,” he said. But he would never spill them. (LJ speaks to Ruth) Can I say this part to Mr Wilford?”

Ruth: “Yes, he’s following along.”

LJ: “I am so sorry for the part that I played in this tragedy. I was silent when I should have spoken, but Sean Wise gave his life to save humanity from the darkness that almost swallowed me whole. If the train shows me mercy, I promise to do my part for her, too. That’s all I can say.”

She stops crying to make her promise and looks Melanie directly in the eye. Melanie has been visibly distressed during LJ’s testimony, since she understands that Sean knew and spilled her deepest secrets. LJ offered to trade her silence for her life and help she could give Melanie in the future. Melanie has to wonder how many other people know her secrets and whether LJ wrote anything down and hid it, maybe in a letter sealed with a kiss. This is a turning point in Melanie’s strategy of violently silencing anyone who finds out that isn’t already a close ally.

Ruth calls another break while the Tribunal deliberates.

Josie seems to develop some sixth sense for which drawers hold Tailies and opens a few. The first two hold children who’d been chosen for the apprenticeshop program, Mia and a young boy. Layton is in the third.

Melanie and Jinju retreat to the Hospitality office and discuss LJ’s testimony.

Melanie: “Maybe he told her the drawers are experimental. Maybe he told her about the list.”

Jinju: “Well, that changes the calculus, doesn’t it?”

Melanie sends a note to Ben and Javi through the vacuum tubes. Javi doesn’t like what it says. He’s mad that he’s even working in the engine. He confronts Ben about his relationship with Melanie.

When Josie can’t wake Layton up, she removes a wrist cuff which results in his heart stopping. Oz and Bess are outside in the hall and notice that the Drawers have been broken into. They investigate and find Josie hiding in the drawer with Layton. Oz pulls her out and brutally beats her until Till knocks him out with her baton.

Till, like everyone else, thought Layton had gone back to the Tail. He’s convulsing and barely has a heartbeat. Josie injects him with something which begins to bring him around. Till tells her they have to get out of the Drawers before they get caught.

The Tribunal finds LJ guilty on all counts, by unanimous vote. Jinju and the teacher look especially pleased. In the engine, Ben tells Javi that he has to follow Melanie’s orders for the worst case scenario. Javi doesn’t think Melanie should interfere with the results of the Tribunal. Ben sends a message to the 1st Class dining car.

Ruth reads the message, which says Mr Wilford is commuting LJ’s sentence due to her status as a minor. The 3rd Class delegation explodes into a riot as the Folgers and the rest of 1st Class are rushed out of the dining car.

Till helps Josie drag Layton to Zarah’s place in the Chains. Josie tells Zarah that Layton was drawered and the Tail needs to be able to trust her now. Zarah pretends she doesn’t know about the blue chip. Josie rushes back to sanitation to relieve Astrid. Zarah helps Layton up to one of her hiding spots.

Melanie has a chat with LJ in the Hospitality office about discretion and secrets. Jennifer Connelly earns her pay with some excellent line delivery, as she tries to convince LJ to play by her rules from now on. LJ promises to keep Mr Wilford’s secrets and look out for his well being, but she also seems overconfident. She thinks she’s safe, but she’s now also a very important pawn, since she’s been exposed as the Folgers’ greatest weakness and as a danger to Melanie. She might not go to the drawers, but accidents can happen to anyone.

Till returns to the Drawers for Oz. He’s gone, but the wall next to where he was lying is marked with red blood and black scuff marks, as if a fight took place. It’s not from his fight with Josie. Who found him there and who won the fight? The jackboots?

Layton continues to convulse, with Zarah holding him down so he doesn’t hurt himself. He remembers bringing a heart out from the cannibals’ section of the Tail and slicing it up. Everyone took a piece and said, “Never again,” before eating it. He remembers Strong Boy, Mama Grandé, Santiago, Josie, Lights, Z-Wreck and Last Australian. No one says OneTail.

Then he wakes up and opens his eyes. He doesn’t know where he is, but Zarah is curled around him and kisses his forehead.

Commentary

Will try to add more screen caps soon.

Cannibals, Sacrificial Lambs and Switzerland

The themes of this episode are cannibals, sacrificial lambs and Switzerland. Sacrificial lambs in the sense of a symbolic sacrifice made by a group which is meant to take the place of the group itself. LJ takes the place of 1st Class. Suzanne’s arm took the place of all of the other rebels who escaped, most especially her own lamb, Winnie. Layton may have unknowingly entered the cannibals’ lair as a sacrifice rather than a protector. The shot of him placing Miles out of the way symbolizes Miles as the potential lamb he’s replacing/protecting.

In the film, children tasted the best, so the cannibals went for them first. People place great value on their children, so they would make the best sacrificial lambs. Curtis gives up cannibalism and eventually sacrifices himself for the children in the film. Layton defeats the cannibals in the Tail. But Melanie makes a deal with the 1st Class cannibals uptrain in order to protect her secrets, though she tells herself it’s to protect the train.

The cannibals and the Swiss are nearly equal symbols in Snowpiercer, with the cannibals admitting that they are motivated by their worst impulses, while the Swiss pretend they are neutral. They have situational morality and thus define what is right as whatever is good for the wealthy and powerful, sacrificing the moral beliefs that drive most of the world’s great religions on the altar of greed and ambition.

As Audrey pointed out, though Melanie defines herself as separate from 1st Class, in her actions she is actually no different from them. It becomes more clear with every episode that Ruth considers herself a de facto member of 1st Class, though it’s not clear yet why she believes she’s above the rest of the senior staff. Ruth enjoys every bit of class based injustice she hands out.

The irony of this episode is that 3rd Class was looking for real change, but would have accepted LJ as a sacrificial lamb, had she received a punishment commensurate with her alleged crimes. The problem is, no one would willingly allow their only child to be sacrificed to appease an angry mob, not even the most amoral of gangsters. By convincing LJ to let herself be caught, Layton hit 1st Class in the one place they couldn’t easily defend. They might have abandoned another adult to their fate, but not a child. Now 1st Class doesn’t trust Melanie to protect their children and 3rd Class doesn’t trust her to give them the justice they deserve.

I suspect that the discovery of Mia and the other boy in the drawers will have the same effect on the Tail. I don’t know how Layton could have planned for Josie to find them or if he saw clues while he was in the Drawers as an investigator that led him to believe Mia was in one. But now the Tailies have another reason to rebel, since their children are being taken, experimented on and left to die. Since no new babies are being born in the Tail, in a sense they have nothing left to lose. The apprenticeship program was the one beacon of hope for the Tailies. If they think that’s a lie, there’s no reason for them not to tear everything down.

Lilah is a bit of a Cassandra. with a very strong sense of  where things stand on the train. I think she’s more than just a classist Firstie interested in staging a coup, though she is that. She also wants to preserve the status quo for the safety of her daughter more than anything else and can see how badly a class war would affect the train as a whole. While she’s willing to make the threat of war to protect her daughter and to go through with it, she’d rather win with a bloodless coup.

Lilah and Melanie have called each other’s bluffs now and made the other back down. They’re testing each other’s limits, and sooner or later, they’re going to hit the point where neither will back down.

Or Melanie will find that she’s hit Audrey’s limit on the other side, if she didn’t do it with her pardon of LJ. Audrey wanted a show of justice and Melanie gave her hollow spectacle. Now Layton is waking up to further stir the pot in 3rd and the Tail.

Amidst the talk of cannibals, there’s also been talk of eating utensils. Now that he’s an apprentice, Miles has his own fork. LJ put out her father’s eye with her fork. There are knives all over the place on the train. Jinju’s are some of the sharpest. Roche’s lunches and Melanie’s dinners are precisely made but don’t require a utensil.

Don’t be fooled by 1st Class with their love of money and jewels. On Snowpiercer, food and emotional ties are the true valuables and the best weapons.

  Zarah was very affectionate with Andre once Josie was out of the way, giving hope to my shipper heart. Andre seemed to melt into her more than he did with Josie as well.

I missed Andre in the present day in this episode. At least they found a clever way to include him and he was only sidelined for one episode.

Now that LJ is free and clearly had what she needed to free herself, I can forgive him for his part in her arrest and trial and be angry at Melanie for experimenting on children instead. What the heck are Melanie, Jinju and Klimpt up to? It seems like they’re attempting long term stasis, but Nikki’s results should be enough to stop the drug trials and pull everyone out.

How on earth does Melanie justify doing such dangerous experiments on children when there are so few left in the world? We knew she was cold and classist, but I had hope that she wasn’t as bad as she seems. Apparently, she’s worse. So is Jinju, though she always seems like she might have no choice but to go along with whatever Melanie wants.

And what is the list Melanie and Jinju mentioned? Is it a naughty list or a nice list? Is stasis solely for criminal and political prisoners, or is Melanie afraid it’s the only way humans will survive the Freeze?

Please, can a Tailie computer hacker walk by those server banks and get curious? Or can Javi defect to the rebels and explain what they’re for? We’re shown them multiple times an episode. That’s not a coincidence.

Josie tells Terence that Layton isn’t the dying type. Is this another hint that he was sent into the cannibals alone as a sacrifice but unexpectedly survived?

Wow, Ruth is really invested in the system and the rule of unchanging order. Like to a pathological degree. Maybe Erik was her hitman.

I bet Ruth loves the Big Book of Snowpiercer’s Rules of Order. Where did that book come from? Is it a covenant between Wilford and the passengers?

So Josie is actually a medical professional. The visuals were confusing me. Sometimes it seemed she was just comforting the patient while someone else was doing the doctoring.

Now that Josie’s seen what’s happening in the drawers, will she be instrumental in solving the detox issue or improving the stasis drug? As a vet, she might have a slightly different knowledge base to work from than Klimpt and Jinju. Plus, she has some real world experience with kronole that they don’t have.

Why on earth has Melanie left so many professionals with valuable skills back in the Tail? I’m never going to get over that. Plus, if the train is emptying out cars that were used for food storage, why can’t the Tail expand into some of those?

Melanie could incorporate the Tailies into the rest of the train much more quickly than she is. It’s hard to guess how much she’s dragging her heels because she likes having the example of the Tail to use to scare the rest of the train into doing what she says, so they don’t end up starving and in rags; and how much she needs to integrate the Tailies slowly to keep the resentment of the ticketed passengers to a reasonable level.

Miss Audrey Is Much More Than a Pretty Face

Miss Audrey’s look during the opening sequence is the result of a masterful blend of cinematic techniques which are used to add depth to her character. Audrey (and Lena Hall, the actor who portrays her) is a beautiful, glamorous woman. But in this scene, she looks older and harsher than we’ve ever seen her. Instead of a pampered star, she looks like an aging working class night club manager.

Miss Audrey also looks like a survivor with the moxie to take on 1st Class and Melanie. She’s fought a few wars of her own and isn’t afraid to get down in the dirt. She may work in show business, but she’s not Norma Desmond from Sunset Boulevard. She’s Rick Blaine, the world weary café owner from Casablanca. She knows who she is and who her people are.

She’s chosen her side, because there is no true neutrality, even in the real world.

Switzerland is actually a wealthy country which caters to the wealthy of the world. It’s far from neutral; it simply chooses to protect the wealthiest class rather than taking sides in politics, as Melanie attempted to persuade Miss Audrey to do. Switzerland chooses to remain neutral in political disputes between the factions of other countries and regions not out of some moral position, but rather because choosing sides would interfere with its business transactions. Far from promoting morality, the country facilitates the high crimes and safeguards the fortunes of some of the most morally corrupt people in the world.

Melanie tries to argue that if Audrey takes the side of 3rd Class, she’ll inconvenience the upper classes, who then might feel uncomfortable in the Night Car, affecting business and affecting the mental health of the train, since the Night Car functions as a therapy car. It’s a circular argument which doesn’t take into account the mental health or physical wellbeing of 3rd Class, by assuming the wealth of 1st Class is what keeps the Night Car in business.

Miss Audrey’s look in this scene is achieved through several techniques, such as lighting, hair, makeup and camera work. The lighting is deceptively golden, tricking the eye into thinking it will soften her features, but there’s an underlying clarity of tone to the color and a harshness to the contrast that the shadows bring.

The camera is also in such sharp focus that it brings out every fine line in Miss Audrey’s face, probably because of the lens that was used, but I’m no cinematographer. It’s hard to see this in a screen cap, but if you have a good TV or other screen, pause the scene in a few spots and take a look at how they worked to make the lighting and focus unflattering to Lena.

Lena also positions herself to make her face look sad, old and unhappy by gritting her teeth and tensing her jaw and neck. Her makeup, which is perhaps meant to look like stage makeup, is too intense to be flattering up close, especially her lips and eyebrows, and also helps to emphasize the fine lines in her face. Her hair, which is normally perfect, is dull and bordering on frizzy.

She has a fake (?) tattoo and glitter on her chest and shoulder which almost look like a rash or burn scars at first glance. I thought of this later during her testimony when she brought up the diseases in 3rd Class that don’t get treatment and wondered if the decoration hides something else, like a scar or skin cancer.

Taken together, all of these pieces show us that Miss Audrey may be able to pull herself together to put on a good public show in her widow’s weeds, but she’s privately devastated by Nikki’s death. If you thought the widow’s weeds in episode 4 were simply a dramatic performance, you were wrong.

When her look is combined with the photo and the voiceover, we can guess that Nikki symbolizes everything Miss Audrey has lost. She was the one who Audrey had held onto through the Freeze and the inequality of the train. Now she’s been unfairly taken away and Miss Audrey will be sending some messages of her own. The words of the song resonate for her as well.

Though we’ve gotta say goodbye for the summer,

Hey, I’ll promise you this,

I’ll send you all my love in a letter,

Sealed with a kiss.

Sealed with a Kiss

The way Sealed with a Kiss was emphasized in episode 4 kept nagging at me, since it suggested that the song was more than just a random choice by the creators. This episode makes me certain of that. Layton knows he’s missed something in the case and it’s nagging at him, even in the drawer, in the form of a song stuck in his head.

Nikki sings the same lyrics from Sealed with a Kiss that were emphasized by LJ in episode 4, except for changing “baby” to “hey”: “Though we’ve gotta say goodbye for the summer, hey, I’ll promise you this, I’ll send you all my love in a letter, sealed with a kiss.”

The lyrics, by themselves, suggest a few possibilities.

“Say goodbye for the summer” has obvious significance on Snowpiercer. They’ve all said goodbye to the summer, forever. Movement from summer to fall and winter is also a reminder of the power structure on the train. For example, Roche shook hands a few times with Wilford before they boarded the train, but hasn’t seen him since he holed up in the biosecure engine after the permanent winter journey began. Saying goodbye to the summer was also saying goodbye to the original, accessible Wilford.

In this episode Miss Audrey reminds Melanie that they were once united in convincing Wilford to do the right thing for the lower classes. She hints that she knows Melanie is Wilford, but keeps it ambiguous.

Nikki and Audrey were close. Layton only spoke a few words with Nikki in life, but if there’s some sort of shared consciousness happening between residents of the drawers, courtesy of those endless server banks, he may be haunted by an upload of her mind or seeing and hearing a leftover echo.

“I’ll promise you this” I have a few thoughts here. First, it’s time to mention that Sealed with a Kiss was used in the 2006 cult slasher film All the Boys Love Mandy Lane. In the film, Emmet and Mandy, a pair of bullied high school students, get revenge on their classmates while keeping her involvement a secret. They have a suicide pact, which Mandy reneges on. At the end, Mandy and Emmet fight each other to the death, she wins, and then rides off into the sunset with Garth, a 2nd, cuter boy, who thinks she’s a heroic victim. The film turns the Final Girl trope on its head by revealing that she survives because she’s a villain, in addition to fulfilling the usual characteristics of the trope. Plus she also kills the slasher when he turns on her, suggesting their alliance was tenuous all along.

I’m not sure what the “Mandy” filmmakers were trying to say and I’m not sure where Snowpiercer’s showrunners are going with LJ’s arc, but there are some obvious similarities between these two stories. It rarely occurs to male writers when they write women’s stories like this film or LJ’s arc on Snowpiercer that women are frequently coerced by their violent, abusive boyfriends into cooperating with the boyfriends’ violent crimes. It’s as if Stockholm Syndrome doesn’t exist.

Male creators have often observed women’s behaviors very closely and can write women accurately from an external point of view. But they don’t understand the potential motivations behind the behaviors at all, as if it’s never occurred to them to just talk to a few women who’ve been in similar situations.

They write these shows in such a way that the only understandable motivation for the characters, as written, is that they were coerced and abused. But in the shows, the woman is the femme fatale, the criminal mastermind, the evil Eve or Lolita who led the poor, unsuspecting male astray. And of course an evil woman deserves a harsh punishment. Eve was thrown out of Eden. Lolita was thrown out of the Eden of childhood, passed between men and finally left a single teenage mother. The show becomes nothing but another male fantasy.

Our culture, as a whole, trains us to be oblivious to so many forms of everyday abuse, whether its racism or ableism or sexualized violence or abuse of power by an authority figure. The higher your natural position in the power structure, the less you notice what’s going on around you, unless you’ve been a victim of that particular form of abuse. This is true of everyone. We all live in our own bubble.

The lover in the song promises to send love in a letter, sealed with a kiss. Promises can be coerced. During torture, promises are broken.

A promise is also form of consent, which a minor child like LJ can’t legally give to an adult man like Erik.

This song is associated with both Nikki and LJ. 3rd Class still wants the justice they were promised for Nikki’s death, while LJ has promised to keep Wilford’s secrets and make herself useful in exchange for her pardon. Those two promises are about to start a class war, unless Melanie does some quick thinking. Layton was in the drawer for these developments, but he knew something like this would happen. He helped create Nikki as the ultimate 3rd Class victim and LJ as the ultimate symbol of 1st Class privilege, with both as symbols of broken promises.

“I’ll send you all my love in a letter” I have a few ideas for this one and very little evidence. Something must be tickling the back of Andre’s mind. Maybe Zarah sent a message to the Tail telling him about Miss Audrey’s giant book of Snowpiercer’s rules and regulations. That would be something he could use if they went for negotiation and a less violent revolution. That book will be important in some capacity, that’s for certain.

Maybe he realized the implications of something he read and pushed to the side in the Folgers car. Or another message he received from uptrain when he was still in the Tail. Or maybe Melanie slipped up somehow. Maybe something about her Fight Night message from Wilford clicked in his brain. Was that a message to Erik or another of her minions?

There’s also still that puzzling quote from Erik to Jinju, “She said this was coming.” Was Melanie sleeping with Erik, too? Humbert Humbert sleeps with Lolita and her mother, so the precedent is there.

“Sealed with a kiss.” That can only be secrets and/or poison. Poisonous lipstick, the Judas kiss, the Kiss of the Spider Woman, the kronole stuck in the cheek: there’s just no other way this is going. Betrayal is in the air. Every witness at the trial lied or seriously embellished the truth. Even those we thought were honorable. I’d bet a lot that a brakeman, probably Oz, planted the penises in the jewelry box. That’s just not where LJ would keep them.

The cop in Andre knows he needs to look into the connection between the black market, kronole and the murders. Just as the Tail couldn’t be safe until the cannibals were gone, kronole will cannibalize the entire train unless it’s eliminated. Terence and Annie showed us in this episode that they are far from benevolent.

In her testimony, LJ said that Sean Wise told her and Erik that “Shadows and lies were taking over our beautiful train.” and “Sean Wise gave his life to save humanity from the darkness that almost swallowed me whole.” She’s talking about kronole. That second quote suggests that she was threatened somehow. She also says his death helped save humanity from kronole. How? Was he selling it as well as informing? Did he try to get LJ hooked?

Nikki’s Body and LJ’s Guilt

LJ has an airtight alibi for Nikki’s murder. The entire train saw LJ in the Night Car for the fight, right up until the very end, when the Folgers were forced to leave at last call. That was the period of time when Nikki was being murdered.

When he was done with Nikki, Erik stayed in public for hours, where he’d be seen, in the 3rd Class dining car, perhaps so that LJ couldn’t be implicated. He only left when he knew Nikki’s body was about to be found. Then he went to the bee storage unit, and stayed there until Till and Oz found him.

Was he leading the brakemen to his hiding place, so they could find something important he’d hidden there? The J-hook that he left among his possessions in the Folgers’ car also leads back to the storage unit, providing another tip off to search that area. As LJ basically says in her trial, Erik is the one who tortured and questioned Sean. He heard the secrets Sean spilled. That’s likely why Erik was targeted for death next, after Nikki and Sean. (Remember, someone told him this was coming.)

But whoever Erik works for, or whoever put the hit out on him, didn’t count on him carving up Nikki so thoroughly. Her throat isn’t just slit (well, it might be when he leaves her). By the time Melanie and Andre get to her it’s opened wide and something electronic, with a flashing light, has been inserted inside.

Is that a message for Melanie, the Voice of the Train? Is it a medical implant Nikki had due to a previous injury or illness? We’ve already been shown that Klimpt violates the bodies of the living. He’d have no problem violating the bodies of the dead.

Whoever wanted Erik dead also thought that his secrets would die with him. Melanie was honestly floored to realize how much LJ knows, which means she didn’t think LJ was actually the mastermind who ordered Erik around, or even involved in the crimes at all. She knew the trial was a sham. As did virtually everyone involved in it. They were all playing out a piece of theatre meant to appease 3rd Class so they could get back to their normal lives as soon as possible.

Melanie would never have allowed LJ to take the stand if she thought LJ could reveal her secret. Since Sean was her informant, he had a high likelihood of guessing the truth. Layton guessed that was the real reason why he was brought out of the Tail- because Melanie was afraid Sean told the killer her secret.

Melanie thought her secret died with Erik and that LJ had no involvement, so putting her on trial would show Melanie’s own power over 1st and gain her some favor with 3rd. But either Layton or Erik shared the truth with LJ, or she was really present when Sean died. My money is on Layton giving her the ammunition she needed, but Erik also fed her pieces of the story.

Graphic photos of Nikki’s injures from episode 4 follow. Fair warning if you want to skip them.

Layton is dreaming about Nikki singing LJ’s song with a mutilated neck , with lyrics about sealing letters with a kiss. He knows he’s missed something with this case, and that Nikki’s throat holds a key clue.

Layton must have caught the tiny flashing light inside Nikki’s mutilated neck, but was distracted from processing it by all of the anger and regret in the room. Roche helped heap blame on everyone, extending the argument. That’s not the only time I’ve questioned Roche’s motives lately. Maybe he’s not as  honest as he seems.

No idea what’s causing the light.

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  Screen Caps from Opening Credits

Collider interview with Daveed Diggs

Interview with Snowpiercer Production Designer Barry Robison– Includes an in universe explanation of how the chains came to be.

Snowpiercer Zoom call backgrounds

    Essential viewing: Explore the Train

This might be the greatest fan theory of all time.

Images courtesy of TNT.

Snowpiercer S1E5: Justice Never Boarded Recap-Layton is in a drawer, Melanie is stressed out, LJ is on trial & Josie uses the chip again. But Jinju & Bess find some happiness & Melanie & Ben find some stress relief. #Snowpiercer In episode 5 of Snowpiercer, LJ goes to trial for her part in the murders of Sean and Nikki, Josie goes uptrain to search for Andre and Miss Audrey takes action to ensure that Melanie will get Nikki the justice she deserves.

#Daveed Diggs #dystopia #Jennifer Connelly #Justice Never Boarded #lena hall #metacrone #post apocalypse #recaps #review #science fiction #Snowpiercer