#Orion was a menace and i mean this as the best possible case

[aktosage]

I really loved your stuff on brainstorm and Perceptor! (I really like any and all science boys) What do you have on prowl? I liked his tfa version and I also liked the idw version with the while battle tactician thing. I think that my favorite version of him is honestly the G1 fanon version, where he still has emotions and can be nice, but he still has that rather cold front. (Also jazzprowl). There's a lot of different ways you could take him. Also is there anything that you changed for shockwave. Especially about empurata since technically it is a strictly idw thing and was never mentioned in tfp. So you could have a purely scientific shockwave before empurata and not have the senator part. Honestly I think it makes more sense. A scientist loosing his morality makes any option, no matter how dark, a possibility.

Hello again!!!!!! I LOVE your questions they are so interesting oml

Prowl (dash of Tarantulas and Jazz)

Mix of G1, TFA and a dash of IDW (will not make him nearly as evil oh my god he is a menace?????????????)

He was a cop/detective before the war so he’s pretty by the book and takes things literally. VERY curious so he learns things rather quickly :] He sometimes is TOO literal, and will act on impulse. He’s more of a “boss” and not a “leader” if you get me (like, he wouldn’t sacrifice a mission or pull back because a ‘few’ dead were less valuable than victory) Basically, he didn’t look at the War, he looked at individual battles they could win

He is a good fella tho :( He wants the best, but HIS best not everyone’s best. Before the war he was a sweetheart but very intelligent and all the praise as well as recognition got to his head and forced him to maintain an image thus he started loosing himself in all that

He met Jazz in the academy and they got along rather well! They mostly bonded over Jazz’s extroverted tendencies and a need to be Jazz which left room for Prowl to micromanage. Jazz was one of the RARE people that liked that about Prowl and didn’t take his nagging to heart. Prowl did notice that and was baffled at first, he wouldn’t admit it but he definitely did appreciate Jazz a lot

He moved up in ranks quickly and eventually befriended Orion through Jazz :] So naturally once the war started Optimus could put his trust in those two without much overthinking

His curiosity actually got him tangled up with sir Tarantulas himself👀 Curiosity and his “they’re not doing this right, a few dead is a small price to pay for xy experiment by Tarantulas (Tarantulas is a deceiver and a LIAR, chaotic) Optimus was of course HEAVILY against that and advised certain bots to keep an eye on Prowl just in case

[redacted] happened with Tarantulas and Prowl rightfully to blame (I have to think of WHAT exactly tho I will definitely work on this, but I’m thinking about the Springer/Ostaros thing👀) and Optimus removed Prowl from his high position to not endanger any more people. Even Jazz was heavily disappointed and hurt by Prowl’s actions to a point where even he openly told Prowl quite a handful of ‘mean’ (but true) things

This affected Prowl HEAVILY, like okay everyone else but Optimus… ORION and JAZZ, his best friends??? So he started to look at everyone as backstabbers and deceivers which lead to him fleeing and joining Tarantulas for comfort (which was false comfort. Their relationship was based on toxic dependency on each other and they bonded over their ideals, situation aka being banished (even though Prowl just got a smack on the wrist lol) as well as their intellect

Eventually Prowl left Tarantulas, which caused more damage to both of them. Tarantulas was always in an alliance with Megatron (though he preferred solo work) and after Prowl left he put more trust in Megatron. He rarely came to Earth and started coming even rarer once Shockwave left Cybertron unattended and ready for Tarantulas’ reign (lol)

Shockwave (just a few things for now :D you can ask more about him)

I knooooow that empurata is purely an IDW thing but I absolutely adore it and wanted to kinda add it here👀

In Shockwave’s case, I think that he did it as a warning to others per Megatron’s request. That would make it SO RAW AND SHOW HIS LOYALTY TO MEGATRON???? He did it himself! Which was hard and don’t ask me how he really did it 💀 but he did

He just did his helm, his gun is a war upgrade. That hand was used for science and his laboratory. It was made out of the same material/alloy like makeshift so it could transform into certain equipment without much hassle :]

Another procedure he thought of and performed himself, for work efficiency ofc

Shockwave has a very ‘beastly’ look imo? He reminds me so much of an insecticon (antennae, his legs/feet, as quiet as a bug ha ha) He no doubt heavily experimented on himself, but since his abilities are beyond almost any Cybertronian they went right 90% of the time

He was never a senator here! Rather just a scientist that also worked as a consultant for Megatronus. The two met very early, before Megatron even named himself Megatronus

^^While Shockwave was a scientist, he didn’t move up in ranks BECAUSE of his self performed empurata. He was frowned upon and actually feared (which is also understandable, while I do love the guy) Megatronus looked at him as he did anyone, he didn’t fear his modifications but actually looked at them in amazement. Which made him resent the higher ups more, for letting such a skilled mind rot because he was eccentric

^would be the kid that performs autopsy on dead frogs he finds in the kindergarten yard 💀

I really hope you like this!!! I loved writing this one a loooooooot, especially making all the connections (I literally need to start making a map of connections bc this is getting inconvenient)

Thank you again for asking! You always make my day with these and I’m forever grateful my friend! 💚💚💚💚

Asks are still open for anything! Feel free to ask anything or share your thoughts!

#ask #transformers #maccadam #tfp headcanons #tarantulas #prowl #jazz #shockwave

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Blood Stained Name (AldoxFem!Reader)

Requested by @svonschroeder​

@owba-chan​ @inglourious-imagines​ @war-obsessed​ @tealaquinn​ @struggling-bee​ @frozenhuntress67​

Let me know if you wanna be added to the basterds or OUATIH taglist :)

You were, what some may call, a legend during the war. And like many other legends, you served as a warning to the cruel, and an idol to the just.  And, like any other legend, you were hunted. In fact, there was quite a large bounty placed on your head, complimentary of the nazi party.

Dead or alive. The only problem was...your name was unknown. Your age was unknown. Your nationality was unknown. Any general description of you was flawed, full of anomalies thanks to  fearful stutters and shudders. You made it known that you were helping resistances and rebellions throughout Europe. With that many allies, and so few clues, you were even harder to track down. The truth was, it was hard to hunt a hunter...because in spite of all you'd done for others, every rescue, every code, every message... your real gift was hunting. Nazi hunting, to be precise. So, with nothing better to go on than "nazi-hunter," you were dubbed 'Orion,' and filed as an enemy of the state. The Orion Initiative started in 1941: An extensive mission and intensive investigation aimed at tracking you down, led by your polar opposite, the Jew Hunter: Hans Landa. Rumors of the nazi hunting started just months after the nazi party took over... An official (though top secret) report was started in 1940, when the hunt was clearly more than just a rumor. An official investigation was launched in 1941. By late 1942, a group of nazi hunters was identified, and originally considered a set of 'copy cats.' The theory was struck down...and the group became known as the ‘basterds.' It was now 1944... The Orion mystery remained unsolved, making it the longest investigation Landa had ever been on. It was a record... Something he was not proud of. He had to solve it.... The only problem was he'd never seen such a clean trail...such meticulous murder... Nearly a perfect crime, every time. Just enough evidence left behind to drive him insane, and just less than enough to piece anything together. It was done on purpose. It was a mockery, and he knew it.

What he didn't know was your name... In fact, nearly no one knew it. The French Resistance knew you as Anaïs Bellamy, a saving grace. To the Soviets, Tatiana Zima. To the Belgian Resistance, you were Cassandra Willems. But that was as many names as Landa could collect (through the most heinous means). Neither of them were legitimate, and all of them led to dead ends. You were a myth with a thousand names. Faceless, but full of lore. Each resistance that knew you, knew you as a hero. Nothing more, nothing less. Each nazi that knew you, never saw anything again. To the allies, you were an asset. To the nazis, you were a faceless, nameless menace. To Hans Landa, you were an abomination, and an embarassment. He would uncover your name and face,  and close that case and file, if it was the last thing he did.

He swore that he'd find you. You were just like him at the end of the day. You used the same strategies, same intimidation, you played the same game... Of course, you knew that. And it drove you crazy. Because you wanted to be nothing like him... Nothing like your father. Unaware of your million names, you were simply Y/n to him. His daughter.  To you, he was simply a nazi. Dead to you, the moment he first put on his SS uniform... But he didn't know that. He was too busy with work, and you didn't quite mind your game of cat and mouse. You liked driving him crazy without him even knowing. As he worked overtime trying to find a single connection, you smirked, as he rattled on and on about names and clues. He’d never been so frantic over any case before... Every once in a while, you’d throw him a bone. A useless, broken bone, at that. A puzzle piece to a puzzle without a picture.  Still, he’d smile at you, the only thing in the world he had, and sighed, “Danke, Y/n...” Y/N.  Very few people knew that to be your name. And one yank hillbilly by the name of Lieutenant Aldo Raine knew it.... 

By accident, of course. He never quite had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, but he did know enough of your friends in the resistance, and as a basterd, he was privy to some information most people weren't. It was rare, but he somehow connected the dots. He saw one of your identifications. One of the many.... He may have been a bootlegging redneck from the humble Maynardville Tennessee, but he was no idiot. And he practically had a photographic memory.

There were faces he never forgot. And yours, on those fake French papers, was one of them. Your name stuck with him... Your name....the thing you hated most about yourself.  "You're so much like him!" "Same eyes!" "Same brains, too!" You forced a smile through it all. You couldn't take much more of this. You were trapped in a crowded lobby, in a cinema, surrounded by your enemy. Your name... This was the exact reason very few of your allies knew your real name. They equated you to your father. They were suspicious of you, a possible double crosser... It took so much to convince people of your true colors. But...you couldn't blame them. You still carried all the blame of your father's sins. You didn't think twice. You just fought. And you fought the urge to cry and scream, and burn the place down in that moment. Landa was a blood stained name, and there was nothing you could do about it... You sighed, as your father interceded, accepted compliments on your behalf...and proceeded to encourage you to mingle. "I want grandchildren some day." It took every ounce of you to brace yourself, and remind yourself that there was already a plan for the night. You forced a smile as you lost yourself in the crowd, away from him, and leaned over the railing of the second floor, watching the final night of your life come and go, there at the Nations Pride premier. ******** The war went on, and the basterds built up a way into Emmanuelle Mimeau's cinema: Operation Kino. Along the way, Bridget revealed she had eyes on the sinde of the regime....and the theater. She showed the basterds the picture of her spy.  A 'darling little thing,' as she held up a newspaper clipping. A daughter of a renowned nazi officer. A face Aldo recognized.... but no... It couldn’t be... He’d believe it when he saw it. And there you were, in the lobby with the rest of the nazis, for the premier of Nation's Pride. Aldo spotted you from across the room as he walked in with Bridget, Omar, and Donny. He was caught off guard, seeing a legend like you in person was almost like seeing a ghost story come to life. He whispered with astonishment, "Y/N Landa." You had spotted them from a mile away, on the second floor, as you leaned over the rails. You smiled, having learned to read lips long ago,  as you looked Aldo in the eye. You knew time was running out. You knew Operation Kino in and out. It was a sign of the times...so you may as well have fun with what you had left of it. You winked at Aldo, and blew him a kiss. He was flustered for a split second. 

Donny snickered, Omar smirked, and Bridget looked away, blushing as she giggled. Only moments before the boys could make their way to you for last minute updates, they ran into a little problem. Your father. ....Still, Aldo smiled and nodded snarkily as he made conversation in an embarassingly tragic excuse for Italian. Aldo couldn't believe it.... Hans Landa had no idea who his own daughter was. **********1943*********** "Monsieur Raine, you've just missed her!" The Basterds' contact in the French Resistance, Etienne, chuckled. "Who?" He smiled, "Your counterpart. Orion." Donny raised his eyebrow, "You said 'her'?" Etienne nodded, "Her." He held out a copy of your resistance identification. Aldo held the paper, and looked up, "Orion's a woman?" He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the fake name: Anaïs Bellamy. Hirschberg leaned over his shoulder, inspecting the documents... a bit disappointed, having hoped that Orion was an American. Etienne rolled his eyes, "German. Y/n Landa. One of the best we got." Another resistance fighter smiled as he cleaned nazi blood off his guns, "Good kid. Good aim. Fast runner." ---Meanwhile--- "Verdammt. Verdaaaamnt. Verdamnt." You muttered under your breath, as you climbed through your bedroom window, threw off your bloody, war-torn clothes, and threw on something presentable. You quickly glanced into your mirror. You popped your thumb in your mouth, and then wiped away some blood from your cheekbone. Your hair was a mess, and you looked tired. Perfect. You practically flew down the stairs, and rushed down the halls. You had a job to do in Paris. You couldn’t exactly waste time conversing with that fiend that dared call himself a father.

But you were stopped by an old familiar voice. "Another bad night, liebling?" You sighed, and shuffled toward the doorway in the dining room. "Ja..." Your father sighed as he put down his newspaper, and looked at you, as he smoked his pipe. He shook his head, and went on about being worried, and telling you for the millionth time that you should see a doctor. "No, but I-" "Your grades are slipping! Don't think I haven't noticed." He grumbled a little.

"I'm still graduating next semester." "You're still seeing a doctor." "But-" "Tomorrow morning." "But." He raised his voice, "Case closed." That was it... 

Once Hans Landa said 'case closed,' he meant it. ************************ The night went on, as expected... Mostly.

As he interrogated Aldo and Smitty, he expected he had it all figured out. "What shall the history books read?" Aldo raised his eyebrow, "Yeah? An' what about Y/n? Ain’t that kid still in the theater? Be a shame. Ain’t that right, Utivich?" Utivich smirked a little, “Yes, sir.” Landa stopped smirking... His face grew spiteful, his eyes narrowed with the intent to kill, "Tell me how you know my daughter's name or I swear I'll send word to the theater, I'll have the rest of your men shot, and-"

"Relax Landa. I know all my associate's names." Landa shook  his head, "Associates?" He smiled, thinking he had it figured out again, "She was infiltrating your basterds, and didn't tell me!" He grinned, "I tell you, that girl is just like me. That's it, isn't it?" Aldo smirked this time, and shook his head once, "Nope." Landa's face fell. If looks could kill... "So you either make that there deal, or not. Y/n is my man on the inside. And ain't no way you takin em boys out without settin' em bombs off." Landa left the desk, and immediately sent orders out for you to be found, and escorted directly to him. Then he took the deal with the general.  He would deal with you later. He couldn't tell if what Aldo said was true, but he desparately hoped it wasn't... and even more so, he wanted you out of that cinema. As Smitty and Aldo were escorted onto the truck to be taken behind allied lines, a nazi ran up to Landa with some news. You were not found... He was silent for a moment, and looked down as he nodded slowly, bracing himself for the possibility that you never would be found. Perhaps, you'd gone out for some air. Maube you'd gone home, and finally got some sleep. Or you went out looking for your dear old dad... Maybe....maybe you'd met someone worth loving there, a high ranking officer. (You had...but Aldo wasn't exactly the man Landa had in mind for you.) "Sir." Hans snapped out of it, and nodded as he made his way to his seat. Everything went well...too welll... The next thing he knew, Aldo had carved a swastika onto his face, and as he screamed in agony, Landa saw a nazi truck pulling up.  A hijacked one. One with three familiar faces. Two basterds, and a hunter.

Landa was a smart man, but, his hope and sentimenatality won out for once. He believed for a few moments you were there to save him, that you'd apprehended Donny and Omar, and you'd given him a fighting chance. You were just like him, after all, all the people said so. Maybe you'd be a double crosser, and help him. But you didn't. As blood from Aldo's mark dripped into Landa's eyes, he looked up at you, betrayed for a moment. Then....it all came together. He pursed his lips, as he pieced every single bit of evidence together.  You knew things there was no way for you to know. You had been right under his nose all along. It had been the perfect place to hide.... He gave one psychotic smile, as he watched you raise your pistol, and aim it at him. "I knew you'd outsmart me some day." You heard Aldo step up from behind you, "Y/n...he's still your father. We can take care of this." Landa, at the moment, was truly intrigued at what would happen next. But you didn't put your gun down. You shook your head, not even looking at Aldo. In fact, you looked at your ‘father’ the whole time.  You muttered, "I don't have a father." He seemed betrayed again, for an instant, but then again, you were just like him. A double crosser with a mission. He nodded. He smiled as he nodded.

He accepted it... You were just like him, after all... And he finally had an answer to the Orion Initiative. It would remain unofficial, and lost... But the case was finally closed. To him, at least. The Orion Initiative had an answer. It had been right under his nose, all along. He really was impressed, and psychotic as it was...he was proud of you. But the feeling was not mutual. You knew even after all that, he wasn't sorry. And the guilt of the nazis had done would forever weigh on you...So one less nazi in the world, one last hunt was all you could ask for. The war was over, but at that moment, there were things you and every other resitance, soldier, and victim would never forget. This was it... He smiled, and shrugged, "Case closed, Orion." You pulled the trigger. At that moment, there were thousands filing into streets, drinking, celebrating, dancing in the streets.... But when the confetti was swept up, and the soldiers went home, and the toppled regimes’ dust settled...everyone would have somewhere to go.

The gunsmoke cleared, and you took a breath, for the first time in a long time. You lowered your shoulders, and unclenched your jaw... For the first time in a long time, you could rest... But you had no place to call home. No one to call your own, in spite of the thousands that knew you, your face, and your story, few knew your name... Even fewer knew you. But you felt a hand on your shoulder, and a soft voice with a strange accent. "Y/n..." And you turned to see a warm smile, and kinder eyes: Lieutenant Aldo Raine... But he'd tell you you could call him Aldo, later that day.  And your world turned upside down. "Well...” He put his hands at his hips and sighed as he smiled at you, “You ain't part of the deal, Orion, and I sure as hell am gon' get chewed out for this...but I think we'll find somethin' for ya." You smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time... That was the first, honest thing you'd heard in longer than you could remember... He took your hand, as you walked with the basterds to the west, to the general, and to freedom. As you smiled at Aldo, and he smiled at you, you knew you were going somewhere safe, somewhere far. Perhaps on a mountain, somewhere in the middle of Tennessee. It wouldn't be like the mountains in Austria that you knew, but, a kinder place, one far from war, and farther from your memories of it. There in Aldo's eyes, you found something new as the sun began to rise in the horizon. A beginning... A place to call your own, a name without a blood stain.

#Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #aldo raine #aldo the apache #aldo raine x reader #hans landa

[writingguide003-blog]

Top writers choose their perfect crime

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/top-writers-choose-their-perfect-crime/

Top writers choose their perfect crime

Crime fiction is now the UKs bestselling genre. So which crime novels should everyone read? We asked the writers who know …

On Beulah Height by Reginald Hill Val McDermid

This is the perfect crime novel. Its beautifully written elegiac, emotionally intelligent, evocative of the landscape and history that holds its characters in thrall and its clever plotting delivers a genuine shock. Theres intellectual satisfaction in working out a plot involving disappearing children, whose counterpoint is Mahlers Kindertotenlieder. Theres darkness and light, fear and relief. And then theres the cross-grained pairing of Dalziel and Pascoe. Everything about this book is spot on.

Although Hills roots were firmly in the traditional English detective novel, he brought to it an ambivalence and ambiguity that allowed him to display the complexities of contemporary life. He created characters who changed and developed in response to their experiences. I urge you to read this with a glass of Andy Dalziels favourite Highland Park whisky.

Insidious Intent by Val McDermid is published by Sphere.

The Damned and the Destroyed by Kenneth Orvis Lee Child

My formative reading was before the internet, before fanzines, before also-boughts, so for me the best ever is inevitably influenced by the gloriously chanced-upon lucky finds, the greatest of which was a 60 cent Belmont US paperback, bought in an import record shop on a back street in Birmingham in 1969. It had a lurid purple cover, and an irresistible strapline: She was beautiful, young, blonde, and a junkie I had to help her! It turned out to be Canadian, set in Montreal. The hero was a solid stiff named Maxwell Dent. The villain was a dealer named The Back Man. The blonde had an older sister. Dents sidekicks were jazz pianists. The story was patient, suspenseful, educational and utterly superb. In many ways its the target I still aim at.

The Midnight Line by Lee Child is published by Bantam.

Bleak House by Charles Dickens Ian Rankin

Does this count as a crime novel? I think so. Dickens presents us with a mazey mystery, a shocking murder, a charismatic police detective, a slippery lawyer and a plethora of other memorable characters many of whom are suspects. The story has pace and humour, is bitingly satirical about the English legal process, and also touches on large moral and political themes. As in all great crime novels, the central mystery is a driver for a broad and deep investigation of society and culture. And theres a vibrant sense of place, too in this case, London, a city built on secret connections, a location Dickens knows right down to its dark, beating heart.

Rather Be the Devil by Ian Rankin is published by Orion. Siege Mentality by Chris Brookmyre is published by Little, Brown.

The Hollow by Agatha Christie Sophie Hannah

This is my current favourite, in its own way just as good as Murder on the Orient Express. As well as being a perfectly constructed mystery, its a gripping, acutely observed story about a group of people, their ambitions, loves and regrets. The characters are vividly alive, even the more minor ones, and the pace is expertly handled. The outdoor swimming pool scene in which Poirot discovers the murder is, I think, the most memorable discovery-of-the-body scene in all of crime fiction. Interestingly, Christie is said to have believed that the novel would have been better without Poirot. His presence here is handled differently he feels at one remove from the action for much of the time but it works brilliantly, since he is the stranger who must decipher the baffling goings on in the Angkatell family. The murderers reaction to being confronted by Poirot is pure genius. It would have been so easy to give that character, once exposed, the most obvious motivation, but the contents of this killers mind turn out to be much more interesting

Did You See Melody by Sophie Hannah is published by Hodder.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier SJ Watson

SJ Watsno

I first came to Rebecca, published in 1938, with one of the most recognisable first lines in literature, not knowing exactly what to expect. That it was a classic I was in no doubt, but a classic what? I suspected a drama, possibly a romance, a book heavy on character but light on plot and one Id read and then forget. How wrong I was.

It is a dark, brooding psychological thriller, hauntingly beautiful, literature yes, but with a killer plot. I loved everything about it. The way Du Maurier slowly twists the screw until we have no idea who to trust, the fact that the title character never appears and exists only as an absence at the heart of the book, the fact that the narrator herself is unnamed throughout. But, more importantly, this thriller is an exploration of power, of the men who have it and the women who dont, and the secrets told to preserve it.

Second Life by SJ Watson is published by Black Swan.

Mystic River by Dennis Lehane James Lee Burke

To my mind this is the best crime novel written in the English language. Lehane describes horrible events with poetic lines that somehow heal the injury that his subject matter involves, not unlike Shakespeare or the creators of the King James Old Testament. Thats not a hyper-bolic statement. His use of metaphysical imagery is obviously influenced by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Mystic River is one for the ages.

Robicheaux by James Lee Burke is published by Orion.

The Expendable Man by Dorothy B Hughes Sara Paretsky

Author Sara Paretsky for Arts. Photo by Linda Nylind. 15/7/2015.

Today, Hughes is remembered for In a Lonely Place (1947) Bogart starred in the 1950 film version. My personal favourite is The Expendable Man (1963). Hughes lived in New Mexico and her love of its bleak landscape comes through in carefully painted details. She knows how to use the land sparingly, so it creates mood. The narrative shifts from the sandscape to the doctor, who reluctantly picks up a teen hitchhiker. When shes found dead a day later, hes the chief suspect, and the secrets we know hes harbouring from the first page are slowly revealed.

Hughess novels crackle with menace. Like a Bauhaus devotee, she understood that in creating suspense, less is more. Insinuation, not graphic detail, gives her books an edge of true terror. Shes the master we all could learn from.

Fallout by Sara Paretsky is published by Hodder.

Killing Floor by Lee Child Dreda Say Mitchell

What is it about any particular novel that means youre so engrossed that you miss your bus stop or stay up way past your bedtime? A spare, concise style that doesnt waste a word. A striking lead character who manages to be both traditional and original. A plot thats put together like a Swiss watch. Childs debut has all these things, but like all great crime novels it has the x-factor.

In the case of Killing Floor that factor is a righteous anger, rooted in personal experience, that makes the book shake in your hands. Its the story of a military policeman who loses his job and gets kicked to the kerb. Jack Reacher becomes a Clint Eastwood-style loner who rides into town and makes it his business to dish out justice and protect the underdog, but without the usual props of cynicism or alcohol. We can all identify with that anger and with that thirst for justice. We dont see much of the latter in real life. At least in Killing Floor we do.

Blood Daughter by Dreda Say Mitchell is published by Hodder.

The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler Benjamin Black (John Banville)

The Long Goodbye is not the most polished, and certainly not the most convincingly plotted, of Chandlers novels, but it is the most heartfelt. This may seem an odd epithet to apply to one of the great practitioners of hard-boiled crime fiction. The fact is, Chandler was not hard-boiled at all, but a late romantic artist exquisitely attuned to the bittersweet melancholy of post-Depression America. His closest literary cousin is F Scott Fitzgerald.

Philip Marlowes love and surely it is nothing less than love for the disreputable Terry Lennox is the core of the book, the rhapsodic theme that transcends and redeems the creaky storyline and the somewhat cliched characterisation. And if Lennox is a variant of Jay Gatsby, and Marlowe a stand in for Nick Carraway, Fitzgeralds self-effacing but ever-present narrator, then Roger Wade, the drink-soaked churner-out of potboilers that he despises, is an all too recognisable portrait of Chandler himself, and a vengefully caricatured one at that. However, be assured that any pot The Long Goodbye might boil is fashioned from hammered bronze.

Prague Nights by Benjamin Black is published by Viking.

Love in Amsterdam by Nicolas Freeling Ann Cleeves

Although Nicolas Freeling wrote in English he was a European by choice an itinerant chef who roamed between postwar France, Belgium and Holland, and who instilled in me a passion for crime set in foreign places. He detested the rules of the traditional British detective novel: stories in which plot seemed to be paramount. Love in Amsterdam (1962) is Freelings first novel and it breaks those rules both in terms of structure and of theme.

It is a tale of sexual obsession and much of the book is a conversation between the suspect, Martin, whos been accused of killing his former lover, and the cop. Van der Valk, Freelings detective, is a rule-breaker too, curious and compassionate, and although we see his investigative skills in later books, here his interrogation is almost that of a psychologist, teasing the truth from Martin, forcing him to confront his destructive relationship with the victim.

The Seagullby Ann Cleeves is published by Pan.

Laidlaw by William McIlvanney Chris Brookmyre

I first read Laidlaw in 1990, shortly after moving to London, when I was aching for something with the flavour of home, and what a gamey, pungent flavour McIlvanneys novel served up. A sense of place is crucial to crime fiction, and Laidlaw brought Glasgow to life more viscerally than any book I had read before: the good and the bad, the language and the humour, the violence and the drinking.

Laidlaws turf is a male hierarchy ruled by unwritten codes of honour, a milieu of pubs and hard men rendered so convincingly by McIlvanneys taut prose. His face looked like an argument you couldnt win, he writes of one character, encapsulating not only the mans appearance but his entire biography in a mere nine words.

This book made me realise that pacey, streetwise thrillers didnt have to be American: we had mean streets enough of our own. It emboldened me to write about the places I knew and in my own accent.

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov Laura Lippman

Im going to claim Lolita for crime fiction, something I never used to do. But it has kidnapping, murder and its important to use this term rape. It also has multiple allusions to Edgar Allan Poe and even hides an important clue well, not exactly in plain sight, but in the text of, yes, a purloined letter. And now we know, thanks to the dogged scholarship of Sarah Weinman, that it was based on a real case in the United States. (Weinmans book, The Real Lolita, will be published later this year.)

Dorothy Parker meant well when she said Lolita was a book about love, but, no its about the rape of a child by a solipsistic paedophile who rationalises his actions, another crime that is too often hidden in plain sight. Some think that calling Lolita a crime novel cheapens it, but I think it elevates the book, reminds us of the pedestrian ugliness that is always there, thrumming beneath the beautiful language.

Sunburn by Laura Lippman is published by Faber.

The Moving Target by Ross Macdonald Donna Leon

Ross Macdonald, an American who wrote in the 60s and 70s, has enchanted me since then with the beauty of his writing and the decency of his protagonist, Lew Archer. I envy him his prose: easy, elegant, at times poetically beautiful. I also admire the absence of violence in the novels, for he usually follows Aristotles admonition that gore be kept out of the view of the audience. When Archer discovers the various wicked things one person has done to another, he does not linger in describing it but makes it clear how his protagonist mourns not only the loss of human life but also the loss of humanity that leads to it.

Macdonalds plotting is elegant: often, as Archer searches for the motive for todays crime, he unearths a past injustice that has returned to haunt the present and provoke its violence. His sympathy for the victims is endless, as is his empathy for some of the killers.

The Temptation of Forgiveness by Donna Leon is published by William Heinemann.

The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins Nicci French

http://www.theguardian.com/us

[rajinedgeofdarkness]

Skyfyre's Last Fight

Skyfyre lost her mind somehow. Something in her mind snapped during this very moment. She got on Blaze’s saddle and flew off away from everyone else and not listening to her fellow allies not even Eldoron who kept yelling at her to stop. Sky took a straight shot towards the enemy’s weapons that were aimed directly towards her. She didn’t change course despite the arrows that flung past her. She tried to concentrate her magic and both her and Blaze began to glow brightly with a fire elemental based aura. The aura grew until the two almost appeared as a big fireball shooting towards the group. The enemy continued to shoot at them but the fire burned all the projectiles to ashes before it even got close to both of them. Skyfyre let out a scream as she re absorbed Blaze’s soul and completely bonded with his magic as well before touching down the cliff side with an explosion. The blast was powerful enough to destroy the majority of the weapons and set fire to most of the enemies who tried to dodge her magic as she continue to blast the area with fire balls. She made her way slowly past the line of charred ballistas and cannons that were melting due to the extreme heat. Her hair and eyes were bright red with anger and power as they met with that of Acheron who stood in fazed by the destruction around him. He smiled and showed his fangs that glistened amongst the flames. “You have learned a lot since the last time I met you.” A tear could be seen running down Skyfyre’s cheek as she clenched her teeth and gave him a menacing look. “You were the one who killed my parents!!!” Skyfyre began to charge a fireball and shoot one straight towards him only for it to dissipate before it reaches him. “Nice try……is that the best you got?” Suddenly a dark purple aura became visible as a force field surround him and he began to laugh to himself as he reached his hand out. A snap of his fingers caused the earth to shatter under Sky’s feet and she barely jumps out of the way. Grabbing onto the side of the newly formed chasm as she tries to re summon Blaze, she begins to feel a piercing pain within her mind that prevents her from channeling her magic and no longer have the mental connection with her draconian ally. Acheron walks towards the side only to grab her arm and pull her up forcefully. His purple eyes met with her red ones that were slowly turning back to brown as the magic leaves her body. “Nooooooooo!!!!” 

 A gunshot could be heard from behind and a bullet shatters upon contact with his force field, but not without exploding that forces the two apart. Skyfyre readies herself for a fight when Eldoron grabs her and tries to get her under control. “Let go of me!!!!.” “Sky, you can’t beat him, he’s going to kill you!!!” Pixel flies past the two as Orion and Jessie can be heard not far behind with the copter ready. “We need to go…..now!!!” Jessie notices Acheron from a distance getting back onto his feet, his aura glowing brighter than ever as he eyes Skyfyre with malicious intentions. Eldoron continues to try to snap Sky out of it, but she only struggles more. “I will not let him leave alive, not after what he did to my family!!!” Eldoron is forced to let go as Sky super heats her skin getting him to let go. “Yes,….come closer and see what you can do against me.” Acheron prepares another magical attack as he summons the dark spirits around him. The spirits lunge forward with a crackling sound as a trail of black fire follows close behind. Sky jumps to the side to dodge the first attack and she ducks under the second. As the spiritual emblems fade behind her, the burn mark on her chest begins to glow. “Sky…..he’s too strong, you can’t beat him.” She can hear Blaze as he breaks her mental wall to force her out of her current mental state. No response…….”Please Sky, you’re going to get hurt, if not killed entirely”…no response still. “Ahhhhhhhh!!!.....Urg!” Sky clenches her chest with her fist as she can feel Blaze’s soul forcing himself out and materialize before her. Blaze’s large body blocks Sky from going further as he slams his tail on the ground making her stop in her tracks. The others have time to catch up. Sky stands still clenching her chest in pain from the forced summoning. When Blaze materialized, she lost a lot of her magic and physical energy, but she was still filled with rage and a lust for revenge. Blaze immediately turns his head to face Acheron, smoke blaring from his flared nostrils. He bares his teeth letting out a low pitched grumbling roar as Acheron walks towards the group. He spreads out his wings to cover the entire group from any further danger. “Hmmmmm, now I have you all right where I need you.” Acheron grins and laughs as he thinks on his next move. Skyfyre felt hands on her shoulder as she sat crouched down with a tear coming down her cheek. She looks over to see Eldoron hovering over her and Jessie and Orion standing close to by to the sides of her.

 A subtle glowing can be felt as Pixel hovers close by. Everyone was here…..the people that came to her despite everything. Her muscles relax as she lets herself fall to her knees and hands trying to catch her breath. The red in her eyes and hair fade to a dull version and her skin returns to a normal temperature allowing Eldoron to wrap his arms around as he tries to get her back on her feet. “Duck!!!” Orion yells as a huge purple fireball barely grazes over everyone’s head as Blaze’s wing extends over the entire group like a tent with his head and neck wrapped around everyone. An explosion could be heard and a cracking sound as the earth below their feet becomes unstable. Looking behind they can see a newly formed chasm. They are trapped and their only hope is to take Blaze back to the airship. “Blaze, we have to go now, before Sky loses her magic altogether.” As the group begin to mount his neck, Sky suddenly curls her body in pain. Ughhhhhh!!!!, Blaze lets out an awful sound as he gaps his jaw and whips his head upward forcing everyone off. He falls to the ground and begins to dematerialize as Sky reabsorbs his soul. Once Blaze is out of the picture Acheron can be seen with his fists clenched upward with a black flame charging in one hand as he continues to slowly walk towards everyone. “You’re not leaving that easily, not until I get finished with her…..” He points at Sky curled up in pain on the ground still. Eldoron refuses to leave her side as Jessie and Orion take their place in front. Orion begins to use his telekinesis to bring up loose rocks shielding the group. The rock wall doesn't last for long as they explode and scatter. Orion continues to form a new wall and keep it standing for as long as possible until it gets destroyed again. “Running out of time….” Eldoron tries to lift Skyfyre up and carries her as far from Acheron as possible before placing her down where Jessie and Pixel can try to help ease the pain and get her back on her feet.

 Eldoron runs back to where Orion is struggling and prepares to fire his newest invention as he waits for the wall to explode to have an opening. A loud buzzing sound can be heard as the gun charges. Eldoron reaches into his trench coat to reach out for a white gem and stick it into a slot on the top of the contraption. A large laser is emitted blasting the ground before Acheron before blasting him. The force of the beam pushes him back and away from everyone. Buying them a little time, they run back to the other side of the cliff.. “Sky!!!!......Skyfyre?.....can you still hear me.” Jessie could see something was terribly wrong and it wasn’t just a simple case of fatigue from the fight. Continuing to get her attention, but she remains unresponsive almost with a blank stare as if she is unable to move. Sky’s vision begins to blur as she feels faint and almost powerless. “What’s happening to me?” She tries to touch Blaze’s mind with hers only to hear him groaning in pain. “Blaze………bla……?” Contact becomes lost as she continues to become disoriented feeling the rumbling and hearing the sounds of weapons and magic going off on both ends, she feels helpless. The others continue to fight keeping Acheron away from them as they try to make their way back to the ship. Darkness takes over in Sky’s mind as she begins to hear an almost familiar voice. “Sky…….you are more powerful than you know,…….you will be more use to me than you are to those pathetic allies of yours.” Sky clenches her eyes as she fights the dark presence in your head “With you by my side, we can rule the universe and destroy those that resist us.” “Noooo,…..noooooo, you can’t…..you WON’T!!!” “Too bad, you are already mine.” 

 Everything suddenly becomes quiet and still, she opens up her eyes to see everyone in a frozen pose. She can see Jessie with glazed eyes looking down on her as she tries to get out of her now limp grasp. She looks around to see everyone else stopped in their tracks as Eldoron and Orion are seen running away. Rocks and debris floating in mid-air. She can barely move herself every motion now becomes a struggle, but she still remains aware of everything as she. She tries to stand up only to fall back down. “No use fighting your fate.” She looks around only to suddenly feel a hand clenching down on her shoulder with great force. Acheron stands over her keeping her in her place. “You know, you and me aren’t that different…..”. Heavy breathing and frustration can be seen as Sky fights his hold on her. “I’m nothing like you!!!!” “What makes you say that?” Before Sky can utter another word, his other hand comes over and and covers her mouth……”mmmmph”. “We are both powerful magic users, very powerful indeed and you seem to grow in power every day. I mean you think you are using your powers for good, but I assure you, you are not. Those powers are still those meant for destruction, whether you believe otherwise, you are still hurting more than aiding…”. He takes his hand off her mouth and releases his hold on her. Sky tries to get up and face him. “You’re wrong, I’ve used my powers to save lives, to help people, you want to kill everything and destroy planets with your dark magic.” This part will continue to be about Acheron using his dark forces to prove to Skyfyre otherwise that she is better off coming to his side as he threatens to kill everyone in the most brutal way possible if she still doesn’t abide to his wishes. 

 Acheron lets time continue, but him and Sky are long gone once everyone realizes what’s happened. “She’s gone…..”. Eldoron desperately searches for her. “Acheron must of taken her while she was in that weakened state, but how? I don’t even recall him coming anywhere near us.” Jessie remains skeptical and confused. Orion looks up to the sky “we’ve underestimated him.” “We have to find her, before it’s too late, who knows what he will do to her. I could never forgive myself if something bad was to happen to her….” Eldoron, frustrated, pounds the side of the ship with his fist. “We need to head back to Rajin and regroup there, our navigation systems will help us track her down, but in the meantime, we have to heal up.” Pixel remarks as she notices major cuts and bruises on everyone. Orion and Jessie board the ship as Pixel follows. Eldoron stalls for a moment before going in as well while whispering under his breath. “I can’t imagine my life without her by my side.”