#also nightingale and guleed but like

[luthienebonyx]

I posted 1,091 times in 2022

13 posts created (1%)

1,078 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@whiteorangeflower

@tanoraqui

@ophidiae

@it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined

@bethanyactually

I tagged 741 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#cats - 143 posts

#writing - 59 posts

#fanart - 30 posts

#kittens - 26 posts

#dogs - 25 posts

#art - 22 posts

#doctor who - 22 posts

#persuasion - 22 posts

#star trek - 17 posts

#sga - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#taking a paper spill from the jar she re-lit the candle that had lighted her way to bed - more than an hour ago now according to the bracket

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

10 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

#4

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Peter Grant (Rivers of London), Sahra Guleed, Jennifer Vaughan, Miriam Stephanopoulos, Thomas Nightingale, Kimberley Reynolds Additional Tags: Case Fic, architecture, gothic architecture, Gargoyles Summary:

Peter is called to a break-in at just about the last place he expects, and soon discovers that the intruder's identity is even less expected.

*

This is the story I wrote for Yuletide this year. I was SO sure that I was going to get Ted Lasso that when I got my assignment and saw I’d been matched on Rivers of London I didn’t have any idea what to write at first. But when I looked at my recipient keerawa’s prompts, the idea of a case fic touching on real events jumped out at me - if I could think of the right real event. Luckily, @firesign23 suggested Big Ben’s renovations, and something clicked in my brain and said: gargoyles!

And almost 11,000 words later, here we are. 😂

18 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

#3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth Characters: Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister, Josmyn "Peck" Peckledon Additional Tags: One Night Stands, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Summary:

Six months after an eventful night in the mountains that feels more like a dream than reality, Brienne makes an unwelcome discovery on the day she starts her new job.

~

This is my story for the JB Fic Exchange, which I wrote for the lovely @writergirl2011

It’s been eight months since I last wrote anything, so it was really nice to sit down and let the words flow again.

A big thanks to @firesign23 and her team for all their hard work running the exchange this year! (And also thanks to @firesign23 for reading this baby through when she had so much else going on yesterday.)

19 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

#2

What a truly progressive government looks like

The man in this photo is Gough (pronounced Goff) Whitlam, the 21st prime minister of Australia. Fifty years ago, on 2 December 1972, Gough Whitlam’s Australian Labor Party won the federal election, and ushered in easily the most progressive government Australia has ever had. It was a government that truly changed Australia, and set it on the path towards being the country it is today.

Gough (he was one of those rare politicians who was widely known simply by his first name. There was truly only one Gough) was tall and imposing, with silver hair and dark eyebrows, and a booming voice that delivered his razor sharp wit. When he led the ALP to victory in 1972, the party had been out of government for 23 long years, and were determined to make a difference when at last they were back in power. As you’ve probably worked out from the glorious 1970s t-shirts in the picture, the election campaign slogan was It’s Time. It featured in a famous election ad jingle, performed by Alison McCallum and accompanied by many famous faces of the time.

After winning the 1972 election, Gough wasted no time in implementing his election promises. Not willing to wait until the final results of the election were confirmed and the full ministry could be appointed, he and his deputy, Lance Barnard, were sworn in as prime minister and deputy prime minister on 5 December. Between the two of them, they held all 27 government portfolios for two weeks until the rest of the ministry was sworn in. The duumvirate, as it was known:

ordered negotiations to establish full relations with China

ended conscription in the Vietnam War

freed the conscientious objectors who had been jailed for refusing conscription

ordered home all remaining Australian troops in Vietnam

re-opened the equal pay case (for women, who were at that time by law paid less than men for doing the same job) and appointed a woman, Elizabeth Evatt, to the Commonwealth Conciliation and Arbitration Commission, the body that made the decision

abolished sales tax on the contraceptive pill

announced major grants for the arts

appointed an interim schools commission

barred racially discriminatory sport teams from Australia, and instructed the Australian delegation at the United Nations to vote in favour of sanctions on apartheid South Africa and Rhodesia

And that was just the first two weeks.

In the three years that followed, the Whitlam government:

introduced a national universal health scheme

abolished university fees

abolished the death penalty for federal crimes

established Legal Aid

replaced God Save the Queen with Advance Australia Fair as the national anthem

replaced the British honours system with the Order of Australia

created the family court and introduced no fault divorce, the first country in the world to do so

ended the White Australia policy

introduced the racial discrimination act

advocated for Indigenous rights, including creating the Aboriginal Land Fund and the Aboriginal Loans Commission, and returned some of their traditional lands to the Gurunji people in the Northern Territory. This was the first time that any Australian government had returned land to its original custodians. Here’s a famous photograph by Mervyn Bishop of Gough pouring a handful of red earth into the hands of Gurunji leader Vincent Lingiari, ‘as a sign that this land will be in the possession of you and your children forever‘:

See the full post

45 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You...watched it??? The Netflix-so-called-Persuasion???? I mean. I don't think I have an actual question. Was it just that human urge to stare at a car crash/doom scroll?

@firesign23 and I watched it together. It was good to have someone to scream at as we somehow made our way through it.

I have to say: NOTHING could have prepared me for how bad it is. It is WAY worse than the trailer. And it's not just a dreadful, dreadful DREADFUL adaptation that understands NOTHING about the novel it's allegedly based on. It's not just that it neither knows nor cares about the social rules, styles and fashions of the Regency period.

It's quite simply one of the worst movies I've ever seen in my life. Just so, SO bad. The makers of it clearly have utter contempt for their audience. The way it veers wildly between slapstick comedy and angst, the complete lack of chemistry between (allegedly) Anne and the block of wood playing Wentworth, the random decisions that the characters make which make NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. (Eg. After a conversation with Wentworth on a beach, Anne walks into the water, fully-clothed, and then swims around for a bit. Presumably she then walks back to where she's staying in a soaking wet dress. And yeah, that's a spoiler, but honestly it should serve as a warning, if anyone needs one.)

Henry Golding, who plays Mr Elliot, is the one member of the cast who seems to have realised just what sort of movie he's in, and his performance is COMPLETELY over the top. Perhaps the scene where he explains his Sekrit Plan to Anne with no prompting (because clearly the audience would not have picked up on it without it being spelled out to them) gave him a clue. The bit right near the end where he's kissing Mrs Clay in the street was so extreme that @firesign23 and I both completely lost it. I guess it's better to laugh derisively than to scream in horror?

So, I bet you're sorry you (didn't) ask that question, hey? 😂

51 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #tbh I'm surprised there were only 143 cat posts

[sixth-light]

uncommonsockeater

replied to your post

“Coming to the realization that the Nightingale I’m writing for the...”

Prompts? .... Abigail, ghost tour heckler? All quail before her withering contempt?

roisindubh211 replied to your post “Coming to the realization that the Nightingale I’m writing for the...”

Abigail asks Peter questions because he's her big cousin who's into weird stuff and probably won't rat her out to her folks

Accountability check: I wrote 1200 words of the arranged marriage AU today while waiting for someone to get back to me so I could submit a revised paper I’M NOT GETTING DISTRACTED FROM MY FANFIC GOALS

(I am but. manageably.) 

“...Sir Henry died over a hundred and twenty years ago,” said the tour guide, “but –“

“Hang on,” Abigail said, pitching her voice to the tone that had brought looks ranging from resignation to terror to the eyes of her schoolteachers. “This place wasn’t even built until after the First World War. What’s this Victorian bloke doing haunting it?”

The guide, who was a white guy called Simon probably not too much older than Abigail was herself, had smiled politely when she’d opened her mouth. By the time she was done, the smile had gone a bit thin.

“I think you must have got it mixed up,” he said, with a chuckle. “Look around at this Gothic Revival -”

“They didn’t just all down tools one day in nineteen-oh-one and start on Art Deco buildings the next,” Abigail said. “My cousin’s an architect, he goes on about this stuff.”

That wasn’t exactly true but Peter had done his degree, right, it was just that jobs were hard to get. His tours were way better than this one, too.

Simon’s eyes narrowed, although he managed to keep up the smile. Some of the other people on the tour – all tourists as far as Abigail could tell, mostly white and a few East Asians – were starting to look uncomfortable.

“Look, do you want to hear about the ghost of Sir Henry or not?”

“I just think if you’re going to tell ghost stories they should be real ones,” Abigail told him. She meant it, too.

“As I was saying,” he said, loudly and firmly and making eye contact with everybody to draw them back in, “this building was occupied by an advertising firm before the Second World War, and the copywriters used to report -”

Abigail stopped listening and edged towards the back of the group, trying to look appropriately abashed. Nobody looked at her; they wanted to pretend she hadn’t said anything. Which also meant, she was betting, that when someone eventually noticed she was gone, ten or fifteen minutes from now, Simon the tour guide wouldn’t be interested in finding out where she’d gone to. He’d think it was good riddance.

She sidled down a hallway, tried two doors before finding one that was unlocked, and settled in to wait in the office inside. Nobody even walked past the door – they hadn’t noticed she was gone. Perfect.

She gave it half an hour before she went back down to the main foyer. Peter had done a ghost tour for a couple of years – he’d given it up for strict history because he said it got too many people who took it seriously – and Abigail had asked him about this place. One of the things he’d told her, or more like let slip because she was pretty sure he didn’t know what she’d been planning, was that there were security cameras but they weren’t infra-red or anything. And ghosts didn’t show up on camera, not the real kind, so as long as she didn’t turn any lights on she’d be fine. Now it was just a case of waiting until her ghost – the real one, not whatever that story had been – showed up. She sat down in one of the less-comfortable-than-they-looked chairs to wait.

Twenty minutes later, she thought she heard something – a door creaking – but when she strained to listen, there was nothing else. Then she thought she heard people talking quietly, but that went away, too.

That was the worst bit about ghost-hunting; you got worked up looking for things and started to hear things that weren’t there. Real ghosts, Abigail had found, were not subtle at all, and didn’t require any special equipment or concentration or anything like that to see them. They were just...there.

She shifted a bit, because her left leg was starting to go numb, and then sprang to her feet when the door across the foyer from her opened – not the main one – and a torch flashed right into her eyes. Her left leg gave out, prickly with pins and needles, and she stumbled, putting up a hand against the light. “Aaaaaahhh!”

“Well, that’s not a ghost,” said a sardonic female voice. “I’m disappointed.” Abigail couldn’t make out anything else after half an hour in the dark; she could barely see figures behind the torch, let alone details.

“Excuse me,” said a second voice – man, very posh, in a way that made Abigail hopeful neither of them was the building’s night manager, but not very hopeful that they’d accept her back-up excuse of having got lost from the ghost tour. It sounded more like a voice that was going to tell her to wait for the police to be called. It was, all things considered, probably a good time to make a bolt for it.

“Hold on,” said a third voice, and the torch dropped; Abigail blinked, trying to focus at the same time as she tensed to turn and run. “Abigail, is that you?”

“Peter?” She turned back. “What – you don’t do the ghost tour anymore!”

“No, I don’t,” said her cousin Peter, sounding baffled. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s for a story,” Abigail said, shrugging like it was totally normal to be found in an office building in central London at quarter to midnight by her cousin who did walking tours and – who were those other two people, anyway? “What are you doing here, then?”

With the torch directed at the floor, now, she could see that the woman – whose expression was about as sardonic as her voice had been – was tall for a girl and wearing a black hijab and a very cool leather jacket. Posh Voice was a white man in a three-piece suit carrying an actual cane, which would have made him a good candidate for the ghost she was trying to interview if he hadn’t obviously been not a ghost, and instead a real person studying her with a frown of mild confusion.

“I take it you know this young lady?” he asked Peter.

“Yeah, this is my cousin Abigail, she’s studying journalism,” said Peter, like a complete traitor. “For a story, Abigail, really? What the hell?”

“I am!” Abigail insisted. She could live with Peter thinking she was breaking and entering; she wasn’t going to tell him she was here to interview a ghost. He’d never let her live it down. He probably still remembered when she’d tried to tell him about the ghost on the train tracks, five years ago. “Come on, why are you here? You don’t do the ghost tour anymore.”

“Favour for a friend,” Peter said. “The night manager still remembers me, and there’s two law firms in this building so they’re not thrilled about warrants...does he know you’re here?”

“I –“ Abigail was already figuring out how to answer that when she processed the rest of that sentence. “Wait, warrants?” She took a step to the side, so the chair wasn’t blocking her path to the side door. It was probably futile with Peter right here and telling all and sundry she was his cousin, but still. She turned her attention to Posh Voice and the hijabi woman. “Are you the filth?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Posh Voice. “May I ask what sort of story you’re following up?”

“It’s for a class,” Abigail said quickly. “I’m a student.” She had a flash of inspiration. “I was supposed to meet someone, but I guess they haven’t shown up.”

“Mind telling  us who that someone is?” asked the woman in the hijab. She looked familiar but Abigail couldn’t remember where from.

“I wouldn’t want to reveal a source. And you haven’t told me who you are.”

The woman made a hmph noise and looked away, like she was trying not to laugh. Which was just insulting, really.

“Quite right,” said Posh Voice, and showed her his warrant card, which said he was Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale. Abigail made a show of inspecting it like she’d seen Peter do once when she’d come with him on a research trip and someone had made a fuss about them being there, but she didn’t know what she was looking for, really. It was just a way to gain a second, and see how Peter was taking this. He looked exasperated, and slightly suspicious, but not really worried. So maybe it would come out alright, if she could just persuade them to go away, somehow.

“Okay, Detective Inspector Nightingale,” she said. “And you are?” she asked the woman.

“Detective Sergeant Sahra Guleed,” said the woman. “Hey, that’s where I’ve seen you – you live on the same estate as Peter’s parents, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” said Abigail.

“Yeah, all her life,” said Peter. “You’ve probably seen her round. Sahra lives near me,” he explained to Abigail. “So she’s fine, and Inspector Nightingale’s a friend of mine, so – look, you shouldn’t be here, it’s nearly midnight. How about I walk you out?”

“I can find my own way out,” Abigail said, trying to look dejected. “It’s fine.”

“Ms - Abigail,” said Inspector Nightingale. “As Sergeant Guleed said – would you very much mind telling us who you were intending to meet? In general terms. I won’t ask for a name.”

“A guy,” Abigail said, figuring she could work with this. “Who had some things to say about…a cold case.”

“It wasn’t, by any chance,” he said, “John Geraldson?”

Abigail tried really hard not to react to that but she wasn’t sure she succeeded. “Uh…who’s that?”

Peter narrowed his eyes. He’d known her way too long. “Abigail. You know a few years ago when you told me about that thing, near school, on the train tracks…is it like that?”

“You didn’t believe me then,” Abigail said, and knew she sounded bitter and was annoyed at herself that she did. “Why are you asking about it now?”

“You changed your mind and said you were joking,” said Peter. “I thought I’d give you the benefit of the doubt.” He paused. “Also, fine, I didn’t believe you then, but I’ve had reason to change my mind since. So. Anything like that?”

“Are you telling me,” Abigail said, incredulous, “that these are the ghost police?”

“Wow,” said Sergeant Guleed. “That’s actually worse than anything I’ve heard down at Belgravia.”

“In that case,” said Inspector Nightingale, “perhaps -”

That was when the ghost threw the chair Abigail had been sitting in across the room, so things got a bit complicated after that.

                                                             *

Because it was after midnight they retired to an all-night caf and Peter bought Abigail a Coke, which was frankly the least he owed her.

“It’s that annoying time when I really want a drink but it’s too late to start,” he said, looking around. Inspector Nightingale made a noise of agreement.  

“You’ll live,” said Sergeant Guleed, not very sympathetically. “Besides, you can’t tell me Abigail’s old enough to drink.”

“I am so,” said Abigail, which made her sound like she wasn’t but was one of those things you had to push back on. “What, you want to see my ID?”

“Sure,” said Sergeant Guleed.

“She is, not that it matters right now,” said Peter. “Was that an exorcism, then?”

“Not really,” said Inspector Nightingale. “More like a red card. Although hopefully it lasts for longer than eighty minutes.”

“Now I’m going to have to go to a library and do research,” Abigail said, still feeling aggrieved. “You could have let me talk to him.”

“He didn’t seem to be in the mood,” said Sergeant Guleed. “In my extensive experience of ghosts.”

“Three months is rather more extensive than anybody else on the force at present,” said her boss. “So I’d say you’re qualified to make that judgement.”

“Oh, fantastic,” she said, and eyed Peter dubiously. “Have I thanked you again lately for getting me into this?”

“Every time you see me,” said Peter. “Abigail, look - I’ll put you in touch with someone at the British Library, I bet she’d love to help. She’s friends with Mum. And she knows all about ghosts and – all about ghosts, so you can just tell her the whole story.” He paused to take a bite of his kebab. “Isn’t this all a bit excessive for a first-year assignment, though?”

“It’s not just for the assignment,” Abigail explained. “I mean, it is, but sometimes I can publish things online, and sometimes I even get money for them, and that’s gonna look way better for my portfolio than just assignments.” Especially when there were people who had parents who worked for newspapers and things and got their stuff in them. She had to try harder, that was all there was to it. 

“What sort of website was going to publish a story with a ghost as an interviewee?” Inspector Nightingale asked, like he was just curious, but his eyes were sharp.

“I wasn’t going to put that in the story,” Abigail said. “Then all you get is, like, really terrible tabloids. I was going to figure out where I was supposed to have found things out after I found them out.”

“That doesn’t sound like great journalism,” said Peter.

“I wasn’t going to write anything that wasn’t true.”

“Ghosts,” said the Inspector, “are not always reliable witnesses, anymore than humans are – in fact they’re often worse.”

“Yes, but they’ll talk to you, and sometimes people won’t,” said Abigail. “Talk to me. And I know nobody else is out there interviewing ghosts, so it’s something I’ve got they don’t. Totally worth it.” She paused to sip her Coke. “But Peter just said ghosts and, so tell me, Inspector Nightingale. What’s ‘and’?”

“How about,” he said, “we won’t discuss and, and we also won’t discuss breaking and entering.”

Peter made a noise of protest at this – at least he was good for something.

“I didn’t break and enter anything,” Abigail said, not breaking eye contact with Inspector Nightingale. “I paid to go on a perfectly legit walking tour which had permission to be in the building, and I got lost on the way out.”

“Oh, Jesus,” said Peter. “Was that Simon’s tour? Were you heckling him?”

“Only at that last stop,” Abigail said. “So he wouldn’t be sorry I was gone.” She sniffed. “He was totally making everything up, anyway, it was embarrassing just listening to it.”

“It’s embarrassing knowing he’s in business, is what,” said Peter, “but I’m really disappointed in you, Abigail.” He paused for emphasis. “You should have heckled him at every stop.”

“Then he would have asked me to leave early,” Abigail said, but she grinned at Peter, and he grinned back, so at least they were all right and he wasn’t going to tell on her to her dad, which would be the worst, or to his mum, which would be the same thing except he could claim he hadn’t. Even Sergeant Guleed made an amused noise.

“I’ll accept there’s an argument about the legalities,” said Inspector Nightingale, and he was smiling a little bit too.

“So,” Abigail said. “And what?”

“She’s very persistent,” said Peter. “Fair warning.”

“A family trait, I see,” said Inspector Nightingale.

“She also did see you do sort of an exorcism,” said Sergeant Guleed. “I think it might be faster if we came clean.”

Inspector Nightingale sighed. “Ghosts, and – I’m a wizard.”

He said it very matter-of-factly, as if he were saying I’m a policeman or lovely weather today. Abigail took a moment to consider it.

“Why are you hanging out with a wizard policeman?” she asked Peter. She glanced at Sergeant Guleed. “Two wizard police officers.”

“They have a very interesting library,” said Peter. “And he’s right, we are a very persistent family.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Abigail said, and sat up a bit straighter, and decided that, even though it was nearly one in the morning and she had class tomorrow – today, this might be something worth being persistent about.

#uncommonsockeater #roisindubh211 #rivers of london #historical tour guide peter #abigail kamara #peter grant #tumblr fic #my fanfic #also nightingale and guleed but like #not enough that I feel I should tag them #writing this actually HELPED me with a plot hole for the arranged marriage au #so really it's winning all around

[iamchrissi]

Amongst our weapons thoughts...

spoiler free: it was decent, but nothing like, super special? I wasn't super interested in the case, but I had fun reading it but I wasn't glued to the page.

full spoiler thoughts under the cut, kinda unsorted

Like I said, the case wasn't all that great. It wasn't bad, as such, though I really don't think the whole spanish inquisition angle worked that well. Like, it makes sense, sort of, and I kind of love how much it goes into historical magic and all that, but the Angel of Death and how she works and why she targeted the victims was all very vague.

Like, what exactly happened to program her to want to kill that prayer group? I get it, weird magic, but that was so vague and felt like a serious weak link. What was the time in that lamp like for her? Did anyone know about her? Did anyone know about anything there? What exactly happened with the rings? It was all so vague, which stood out all the more for the explanations Peter gives for other stuff, and I felt it was kind of unsatisfying.

Though I did very much appreciate all the backstory stuff on English magic and Casterbrook and the like. That was very nice.

Also, follow up on Faceless 1 and his victims! I do like that at least some of the were saved and are still alive.

Caroline! I loved Caroline. And her wonderful girlfriend. Who is the grandmaster of the Sons of Wayland. Though I do wonder if she's the only/last one or are there others? Was this mentioned? I feel like it wasn't, though I could have missed it.

I loved Danni, too. I really like the idea of basically having interns rotating in and out. It makes sense as a way of in depth teaching as long as Casterbrook isn't running, and she was nice.

I also very much liked the Seawoll stuff. Nice to learn more about his family. And how he grew up. It was all pretty fitting for him, and fun to learn.

Glossop was also brilliant, different from the other rivers but still recognizable, if that makes sense.

Not all that buzzed about the sidequest thing though. Like, the actual thing was super interesting and fun, and kind of tragic, to have so many ghosts lost there. And I like how Peter had compassion with them. But like, calling it out as a sidequest is... I was rolling my eyes at that moment.

I am really hoping for a Guleed novella at some point. Like, she was in this one a fair bit, but only like, her work self. There was only one mention of her private life, where she mentions driving her fiances car, but I really really want to learn more about her family her fiance the magic she's been learning... everything, really.

Not sure about Nightingale putting actual, like, timeframes on his plans for retirement. Like, from a personal perspective that makes sense I guess, he's clearly getting healthier, and I do like the idea of him travelling the world and teaching, but from a doylist pov I feel like the books need him to stay Peters boss for a bit longer? Peter's not even a seargant yet, no way he can lead the Folly in a police setting.

Apropos healthier, I very much appreciated the repeated mentions of Peter going to a therapist who makes him deal with emotions. Very nice, get better!

I liked Peter and Bev, and especially how they like, have this big family around them. Bev getting checked up by a doctor send by Father Thames, Bev's sisters being all around them for the last few weeks of the pregnancy and birth, Peter's Mum there, Seawoll as the uncle, Abigail everywhere... it felt truly like a big family, and I very much loved that.

Also the domesticity of Peter and Bev was very sweet and I loved it.

Also loved Bev noting how much of a networker Peter is, and the callback to Stacy Carter and Tyrel Johnson from last book. Peter is such a community builder, it's one of my favorite parts of his character.

Also the twins are here! It felt kind of anti climatic, to be honest, though I do appreciate it not being another super panicky birth where the guy is just running around headlessly. It'll be interesting in future books if the twins will actually grow into characters of if they'll essentially stay artifacts for a while

Nice to think of Peter on paternity leave, and how Guleed doesn't really want to be Falcon Two but will take the job for the duration.

And last but definitively not least, Lesley

I feel like this is a bit of a retooling of her character? Like, while reading this, it felt a bit like this was what BA had originally planned for her. Because like, she did not feel the same as the Lesley of the books six and seven. She felt much lighter, somehow.

Like, idk, maybe the idea is that books six and seven were her absolute low points and she's getting a hold of herself now. But like it definitively felt like BA is paving the way for her to not be the big bad, which, like, after book seven I was definitively expecting her to become the big bad at some point.

Now though she's saved Peters life twice and actually helped him with that spell for Francisca. Like, I appreciate that Peter still doesn't trust her, but she will always be a bit of soft spot for Peter and I feel like BA wants to show that Peter is also a soft spot for her.

And I feel like the whole... rogue thing that Lesley's got going in this book, working as a thief, accidently causing havock, being known to be ruthless if necessary but people quickly agree she's not the murderer this time, helping when push comes to shove...

There were certain Catwoman (DC) vibes there, is what I'm saying, and I'm wondering whether that wasn't the idea for her the whole time that just kind of went sideways a bit in recent books.

Which doesn't mean I can't imagine her turning the big bad after all, but this book felt like an attempt to give her the chance to be the rogue with a soft spot for the hero instead.

Which I'm honestly not sure how I feel about that? Like, there's been lots of meta about how unhealthy the relationship between Peter and Lesley is and I don't feel like it gets that much healthier in this book?

Though ultimately we'll have to see about that I guess.

#amongst our weapons #amongst our weapons spoilers #rol spoilers #rivers of london spoilers #spoilers #rivers of london

[leupagus]

Don't tell me people don't gossip about Nightingale's eligible bachelor status because they ABSOLUTELY do

I wrote this upcoming scene in the fic It's Complicated specifically for my friend mneme, who wrote the joke "but does it come in Muslim?" like five years ago.

*

'Mind you,' said Guleed thoughtfully, 'I would.'

Some beer went up my nose. 'What?'

'Oh, don't tell me you've never thought about it!' She passed me some napkins from her pocket. 'He's got a good job, he lives in a mansion, he's fit,' she said, ticking off her fingers. 'Kind to children, the elderly, and small yappy dogs who don't deserve it. There's a few drawbacks, but if he came in Muslim I would've bagged, shagged and tagged already.'

Lurking in the back of my mind was a dirty joke about coming in Muslim, but I was too arseholed to try. 'I don't think he's interested in women.' I really needed to stop drinking, I thought, and took another pull from the bottle.

Guleed gave me a look, but just said, 'That's one of the drawbacks, true. Also he's a hundred years old.'

'Eleventy-three,' I corrected.

'What?'

'Never mind.' I trundled to my feet and waited for the world to reorient itself. 'Right, we need to rescue him.'

'Rescue whom?' asked Nightingale.

We both spun around, although I overspun a bit and ended up facing the street again. Guleed muttered something about the great and merciful while I made another attempt. This time I managed it. Nightingale was stood in the middle of the pavement, wearing his coat and holding my jacket. He looked like a parent picking up a stroppy pre-teen from a sleepover gone wrong, compete with disapprovingly amused expression.

'Five-oh, mate, it's the filth,' I said to Guleed, who laughed and took my beer away. Nightingale sighed.

#rivers of london #like I get the canonical reasons why no one ever hits on Nightingale #but every once in a while I'm like 'how is he not DROWNING in ass of whatever gender he prefers' #and I need to like #express that

[mariacallous]

so I have to assume you finished Lies Sleeping by now so questions:

favorite book of series? (so far)

Favorite Major Character?

favorite minor character?

favorite one book character?

favorite moment or scene?

quote thats gonna live rent free in your head?

what do you want more of?

Favorite book (so far): Probably the Hanging Tree? (Also Midnight Riot/the first book, and Broken Homes).

Favorite major character: Nightingale, obviously. He's like Savile Row-made to appeal to me.

Favorite minor character: Tie between Lady Ty and Sahra Guleed (though neither are exactly "minor" really), with Miriam Stephanopoulos and Beverley tied right behind them.

Favorite one book character (so far): Varvara Sidorovna, with Lady Caroline and Lady Helena right behind.

Favorite moment or scene: Probably the fight in Lies Sleeping involving the past of London. After that it'd be the collapse of Skygarden and the fight in the Royal Opera House.

Quote that's gonna live rent free in your head:

“The gentry always buggers off when London’s in danger. Have you noticed that?” he said. “One whiff of the plague, some social unrest, a bit of light bombing and the Establishment’s nowhere to be found.”

Also, "If you're afraid of wolves, don't go to the woods."

What do I want more of: Varvara Sidorovna, obviously. More about what the Folly did between WWII and the present-day. More about Thomas Nightingale and specifically romances. More non-London/England based adventures. More Lady Helena and Lady Caroline (although I feel like they're being set up to potentially be competitors or further antagonists, though that's really Lady Helena). More situations or mysteries involving the Wars of the Roses period, or the Georgian and Regency eras. More about the Great Stink. Building on other parts of British history and folklore...

[weepylucifer]

Let’s Go in the Garden - Ch. 7

Peter has a moment. David is just going to go ahead and assume the game is afoot. Thomas has calmed down a bit, but that’s not going to last.

The West End address Guleed had given me turned out to be a theatre house, and not one of the more impressive ones. Posters up front were advertising a musical that I could vaguely remember watching a movie version of once, many years ago on a slow night.

I squeezed the Jag into one of the few remaining parking spaces next to an array of squad cars from Belgravia. It didn’t seem like a good idea to take Mellenby in with me, but although we were relatively close, I still didn’t have time to drop him off back at the Folly, and my suggestion for him to wait in the car had about zero effect. He simply latched on to me as I entered the building.

We were barely past the ticket console and the first team of forensic suits when we were waylaid by Seawoll in all his glory. I wondered what about this fresh corpse necessitated DCI Seawoll being there, then it occurred to me that this was the first notable Falcon-related case that had cropped up since Lesley had shot Chorley and, for all intents and purposes, vanished. If there was even the slightest possibility of her involvement, that meant all hands on deck.

I gave him a nod, and tried to scope out the mood. “Sir.”

“Grant.” He didn’t go out of his way to give me a smile, but his scowl lessened slightly around the corners. Once upon a time, he would now have started bemoaning the necessity of my presence, but he just said, “We’ve got the body backstage, Sahra said it might be something for you. She got Thomas to come in, might already be around here somewhere.”

“Great.” If Nightingale was at the scene, it seemed like the consequences for Jag theft would be imminent and carried out embarrassingly in public. “I’ll go have a look.”

Seawoll had now spotted Mellenby behind me. “And who’s this?”

“He’s...” Nightingale’s boyfriend. “He’s a Falcon-specialist consultant affiliated with the SAU,” I said, pulling this completely out of my bum.

Seawoll looked at me and raised an eyebrow, communicating without words that he wasn’t buying this for a second. “And where did you dig him up?” he asked.

“Enchanted cave,” Mellenby said, stepping around me and insinuating himself into the conversation. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

Seawoll gave him a level glare. He had almost a whole head on Mellenby. “You know, I told Thomas about a thousand times, I don’t love you lot bringing civilians to my fucking crime scenes.”

Mellenby parried with a grin. “A civilian? No one has called me that in quite a while.” He profferred a hand for a handshake. “David Mellenby, Lieutenant First Grade.” He stared right back into Seawoll’s eyes. Next to the bulk of Seawoll, he looked like a bantam rooster. But his gaze held the weight of a world war.

Veteran, I thought again.

With a sort of grunt, Seawoll caved and shook the offered hand. “DCI Seawoll, Belgravia. You’re one of Nightingale’s, then?”

David nodded. “First and foremost.”

Seawoll rolled his eyes a bit.

“Sir, are we looking at a potential situation here with Lesley?” I asked, thinking it high time this conversation got back on track. There was a body somewhere here for me to look at, and vestigia faded awfully fast.

“Eh.” Seawoll made a vague hand gesture. “We can’t dismiss the possibility at this point. But not every weird-bollocks-related crime in London can be Lesley.”

“But it doesn’t hurt to check?”

“Precisely. Now, Sahra can take you out back.”

Like the ninja she was most likely training to become, Guleed materialized at his elbow. She gave me a grin and a nod, and glanced curiously at David.

“You’re magical,” David told her as soon as Seawoll left us to it.

“Thanks,” Guleed replied. “I have a boyfriend.”

David clapped his hands and smiled beatifically. “Such a coincidence. I have one of those too. Even around here, I’m told.” He grew serious again. He got that look in his eyes that said clipboard and that I was beginning to recognize. “I mean to say, you’re magical but not Folly. Who’s training you?”

Guleed looked from him to me. “Who’s that?”

“Nightingale’s boyfriend,” I said. This was Guleed, after all. And I didn’t miss the split-second of David flinching and then perking up and smiling brightly when he remembered it was okay now to openly be Nightingale’s boyfriend.

Guleed raised an eyebrow. “Is that so.”

“I have been with Thomas for a hundred years,” David proclaimed. And of course he would. Of course he’d count the years he’d spent in a magical coma, with Nightingale believing he was dead.

Guleed’s eyebrows threatened to disappear within her hijab.

“He really has,” I explained. “Holdover from his war... stuff.”

“And is this one also magically not growing older?”

Huh. I hadn’t had time to consider that before. “We’ll have to wait and see, I guess.”

“I definitely plan to research this phenomenon in depth,” David said eagerly. “Thomas and his reverse-aging, that is. The way that’s been neglected is a travesty. There’s been no evidence so far pointing us towards the theory that I myself might also be affected, but who knows? I won’t be able to tell until I discover the cause of this... affliction.”

It would be sad, I supposed, in a karmic way, the two of them getting this second chance, and then one of them starting to age past the other. But the world didn’t run on karma. Perhaps if David indeed found a cause and a way to explain it all... but that had to wait for now.

I nudged David’s side. “Can’t wait to get the clipboard out on your boyfriend, can you?”

He sputtered, blushing a bit, obviously not being used to being so publicly teased, but also delighted by it.

“I don’t appreciate that kind of talk,” said a voice in our backs, “nor the bandying about of the term ‘boyfriend’.”

Nightingale had arrived on stage.

Quite literally on stage, too, and this time he had even lowered himself to putting a proper forensic suit on.

In crass dissonance to his words, he reached past me for David and gave him an almost absentminded kiss on the forehead. “Hello, love.”

Guleed stared. Mellenby lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Thomas!” he breathed.

Nightingale gave him that lopsided Captain-of-the-rugby-team grin (which, I would learn later, was very different from his Captain-in-the-war-effort grin). “Welcome to the 21st century,” he said, patting David on the back. David was glowing. “Oh, don’t cream yourself.”

My jaw joined Guleed’s on the floor.

Nightingale turned to me. “You are in a world of trouble,” he announced. “Both of you.”

“What, and no kiss for me, sir?”

I had no idea where that had come from. I wanted to unsay it about as soon as it left my mouth. More than that, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

Nightingale, to his credit, only shook his head a little. David in my periphery looked... amused and entertained, and was maybe mentally putting me back on a list.

“We’ll talk about your absconding with my car at a later point. Right now, it seems high time we took a look at our victim.”

----

The victim had been found in a room we were told housed the theatre’s props, all cluttered shelves and musty cupboards full of... things. There were heaps of prop swords, cases stuffed with plastic jewelry, set furnishings piled up in corners. Forensics had already been through, and left their little stickers and varied evidence of their work everywhere. The victim was a white woman, I put her in her mid- to late fifties. She was a tall, slightly corpulent lady of forbidding hairstyle (it was short, wavy, stiff with spray and completely aubergine), dressed in a sort of flowing black blouse sporting a variety of frills and tassles. The cause of death seemed mundane enough: she had taken a blow to the back of the head with a blunt object.

I got to my knees and bent down to inspect her. The vestigia took a few seconds to hit, and they were flighty, scrambled impressions. I felt the sensation of something... convex, and glass, and nice to hold in your hand, and then a piercing sting of... desire, of greed, a consuming need to own something, so manifest and physical that it felt like an actual stab to my stomach.

I looked up. “Something... round. Made of glass, like a snowglobe? And there’s this... greedy feeling.”

Nightingale and David both nodded.

“Yes,” David said quietly. “I can feel them from here.”

“David’s always been good with vestigia,” Nightingale said. “Better than me.”

“Because I listen harder.” It carried the tone of an oft-repeated inside joke. But Mellenby had paled again and was looking faintly ill, trying to cast his eyes anywhere but at the body.

“Um, sir,” I muttered at Nightingale and discreetly inclined my head in David’s direction.

“Yes. Quite.” Nightingale gave me a nod - thank you for bringing this to my attention - and turned to David. “First corpse since Ettersberg, eh?”

David shuddered. The colour was draining from his face even faster now. “Please, don’t name that place!”

“Avoiding the name won’t help with anything. And you really shouldn’t be in here. Why did they let you in here in the first place? Come, let me escort you out.” Nightingale put a hand on David’s back and gently led him to the door. Looking back at me, he asked, “Will you be alright here?”

“Yep.” I nodded. Beyond the initial vestigia check, there wasn’t much I could do with this corpse, anyhow, and I assumed it would quite swiftly be turned over to the tender mercies of Dr. Walid. I had another look around the room, but there was nothing to spot that would have been missed by your regular forensic tech.

There was no trace of the object that would have been used to deal the blow.

----

Our victim’s name was Deirdre Maxwell, 54 years of age, and she had been in charge of the props department at the theatre at which she was murdered.

At the time of the murder, as was later found once Dr. Walid had determined the exact time of Ms. Maxwell’s death, as it had been late in the evening and long past rehearsal had ended, only five people had been in the house with her.

There was Howard Sheen, the theatre director. Ajinder Singh, the night porter and watchman. Darja Polunowskaja, the cleaning lady, Derrick Johnson, the janitor, and Cora Watley, an actress.

I went over their alibis as soon as we got back to the Folly and Nightingale had stopped sternly lecturing us about the Jag theft. The director had been in his office at the time of the murder, busy with bookkeeping. The actress had been in her dressing room going over her script one last time before going home, she claimed. The cleaning lady and janitor claimed to have been at their jobs in entirely different parts of the building, and the night watchman had spent most of the night in his cubby hole observing the front door. None of these alibis were good.

The front door had been under watch by the night guard and had not been entered by anyone up to the time of Ms. Maxwell’s death. None of the windows or skylights showed signs of forced entry or magical tampering. There were back and maintenance doors, each outfitted with a CCTV camera. Guess who had to sort through all the camera footage? That’s right, me, next to the metric ton of Latin homework Nightingale had seen fit to punish me with for letting David elope with the Jag.

The footage, once I was through with it, showed a great load of nothing. Nobody had entered or exited the theatre all evening until all present within the building at the time had gone home, except, of course, for Ms. Maxwell. Unless someone had gotten in in some way that we couldn’t of yet determine - a slim possibility - that narrowed our list of suspects down to the original five.

“A locked-room mystery,” David called it. He was hovering nearby as I sifted through the camera footage in the tech cave, superficially leafing through a new issue of Nat Geo he had badgered Nightingale into getting on the way home, in reality watching me. “I’m assuming you’re going to interview all five of them?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Nightingale reminded him. “Civilian.” A corner of his mouth quirked up as he said it, but still the message was clear. David had no place in the investigation.

“Don’t be like that, Thomas,” David pouted. “Who doesn’t love a good whodunnit?”

“This is a police matter, it’s not for you to play detective,” Nightingale said. “Besides which, the matter of ‘who done it’,” I could hear the scathingly sarcastic air quotes, “will most likely end up being handled by the colleagues at Belgravia. Our concern will be the whereabouts of the magical object.”

Mundane murderer, magical murder weapon, that was Nightingale’s theory. I for one thought it much too early to judge that, seeing as the murder weapon had inconveniently vanished.

But before that could even be determined, it was up to us to get the lowdown on Ms. Deirdre Maxwell.

----

We went to her flat first thing the next morning. The door was opened by a dejected-looking man in his late twenties or early thirties who turned out to be the victim’s son, and introduced himself as “Hey, I’m Logan.”

He was a white man with short, mousy brown hair, dressed in jeans and a dark-gray fleece jacket over a black t-shirt, probably random clothes he’d just thrown on this morning. He didn’t look like he’d gotten much sleep the previous night. He wasn’t looking to be the type who cried and emoted messily all over the place, I noted, but perhaps that would simply come later, once the immediate shock died down. Right now, he looked... dazed, I suppose. A common reaction in the face of sudden, jarring tragedy.

I was assuming Belgravia had already sent someone over the previous day to help him get over the worst of it, but it couldn’t hurt to play up that role. It wasn’t anything I was stellar at, but unfortunately the last several years had equipped me with some experience in the matter. Didn’t mean any of that ever got any easier.

“How are you holding up?” Nightingale inquired. I hadn’t thought he’d volunteer himself to step up for the role of supportive cop, but I was glad he did.

“Like pure shite,” Logan Maxwell stated soberly. “But thanks for asking, guv.”

“We’re going to have to take a quick look around the flat,” I said.

“Why?” Logan Maxwell wondered. “My mother’s been murdered. Shouldn’t you be out looking for the killer? Surely there’s nothing in here for you to find?”

“This is pure procedure,” Nightingale told him. “We’ll be in and out of here within a minute, I’m sure. And of course a highly capable team of investigative forces is looking into finding our perpetrator as we speak. May we step into the kitchen and just have a short talk about all this?”

Ushering Mr. Maxwell on, almost herding him really, into his mother’s kitchen, Nightingale looked round at me and, with the slightest shift of his eyes, ordered me to search the other rooms. I nodded quietly and got to it.

Apart from the kitchen, there were three more rooms branching off the tiny, cramped hallway. A small bathroom (nothing at all special), Ms. Maxwell’s bedroom, a living room and what I assumed had been Logan Maxwell’s room once, but it became fairly obvious that he didn’t permanently live here any longer. Through the thin walls, I could hear Logan ask, “Do you mind if I just...?” to which Nightingale replied, “Oh, by all means, no, let me join you. I recently started again myself.” A lighter clicked twice, and soon I could smell smoke.

The living room was gaudy, chintz and little horrible knick-knacks everywhere. Not the fussy-old-lady sort, not porcelain dolls, you understand, but dream catchers, silk shawls, supposedly healing crystals and the like. It wasn’t anything I thought I had to worry about. Many people felt the need to spruce up their lives with a touch of magic, but most ended up completely off base. A light affinity for crystals wouldn’t do to explain Ms. Maxwell’s falling victim to a magical crime. Above the small TV, there was a cluttered bookshelf mounted to the wall, filled with romance novels and mediocre fantasy and some books that might have belonged to Logan as a kid.

“What is it that you do, Mr. Maxwell?” Nightingale asked politely one room over.

“I’m in insurance, actually, um, just started,” Logan Maxwell replied. There was a strained chuckle. “May I interest you in life insurance, guv?”

I heard Nightingale make a small, understated noise of genuine amusement. “You shan’t make a good living off of me in that respect.”

It seemed a common enough story. The quirky, hippie single mom and the son who rebelled by turning out as mundane and bougie as humanly possible. Perhaps this one’s grades hadn’t been sufficiently impressive for law school. I moved on to the bedroom.

“I’m not a grief counselor, no,” I heard Nightingale say as I opened drawers and found nothing at all of interest. “Merely someone of great personal experience with loss.”

“Good,” Maxwell replied. “I don’t want to be counselled. At least... not right now. The people from the murder team offered, but... I just need to... sit down and let it really sink in.”

“I understand all too well,” Nightingale said.

I opened up the door to what I assumed led into the second bedroom.

There was a little surprise there for me.

“If I may, Mr. Maxwell. Did your mother perchance do anything... unusual, strange, lately?”

“I told the other coppers, no. Not more unusual than always, I mean... I don’t know. Nothing comes to mind, really.”

I could practically see Nightingale’s immaculate, raised eyebrow. “Is that to say your mother did unusual things regularly?”

“Eh. She has this... had this... this dumb hobby of hers. She always... I mean, it’s just this thing she’d do on the weekends. It’s nothing.”

I examined everything and made my way back into the kitchen. Maxwell was seated at the kitchen table, an overflowing ashtray in front of him. Nightingale, cigarette clenched between his teeth, was making tea.

“Um, sir?”

----

“A fortune teller,” Nightingale surmised.

We were looking at the setup in what had once been the second bedroom. Apparently, once Logan Maxwell had moved out, Deirdre Maxwell had remodeled his childhood bedroom to house her fortune-telling operation. There was a small table covered in a large, purple velvet shawl, and a deck of cards and other paraphernalia on that table. There was a ouija board mounted to a wall, another bookshelf on the opposite wall, this one filled with a different kind of literature. Tarot, spirit healing, seances, palm reading, something called ‘green witchcraft’.

She had apparently recorded herself for the benefit of online customers, seeing as there was a laptop and camera rig positioned in a strategic angle to the purple coffee table.

And something... something was missing. I had never been in this room before, but there was a thought nagging at the back of my mind that something that should be here, that I’d expect to be here, was... missing.

“Yeah,” Logan Maxwell said sheepishly, “that was her thing. The Mysterious Madame Delilah. Load of bollocks.”

“You don’t think there might’ve been something to it?” I asked. I stole a glance at Nightingale, who ever-so-lightly made a so-so hand gesture.

“Nah,” Logan Maxwell said. “She always was on about some nonsense like that. Sure, people paid her for it, but... truth be told, I was embarrassed. The Mysterious Madame Delilah,” he repeated. “I don’t think she ever made any actual magic up in here.”

I ambled through the small room, examining the shelf once more, touching a chunky rose quartz, running my fingertips over the purple cloth that covered the table. And then it struck me: the smooth feeling of something under my hand, like glass, and a stab of desire.

Same vestigia, I mouthed at Nightingale.

Now I saw his raised eyebrow in action.

----

“I never met a fortune teller who wasn’t completely bogus,” he told me later, when we were walking back to the Jag. “Besides which, she had none of the literature on actual magic at her disposal. But if the last several years have taught me anything, it’s that there are... more than enough things I don’t know.”

I shrugged. “People come by magic in all sorts of ways.”

“Perhaps so,” he granted.

He had made a cup of tea for Mr. Maxwell, I thought. He had left his card with the man, “in case there’s ever anything out of the ordinary that occurs to you regarding the circumstances of your mother’s death”. He had smoked with him and apparently gotten chummy enough to be mistaken for a grief counselor. That was new, and it had started happening fairly recently, maybe, I suspected, as recently as David’s return. He seemed different, too. Something in his face, in the way he walked. Imperceptible to someone who didn’t know him well, but he seemed... more present, somehow. More involved with the world around him. Like something was waking up, or thawing out, that had been numb and silent for at least as long as I knew him.

The men’s emotional and psychological needs, Mellenby said within my short-term memory, all fell under Thomas’s purview.

Just then, another thought clicked into place, and I knew what I’d been missing, up in the flat earlier.

“No crystal ball,” I said.

“Pardon?” Nightingale asked.

“There was no crystal ball. What fortune teller doesn’t have a crystal ball? And the object we’re looking for is likely something round, smooth, made of glass. I’m sure you can deal a bit of a blow with a thing like that.”

Nightingale gave me a slight smile. “A thought worth keeping in mind,” he said in that tone of his that really meant well done, and he gave me an appreciative sort of look, and I felt... well, I felt looked at. No one looks at you like Nightingale sometimes.

Just then, his phone rang.

He took it from his pocket and, peering at the screen, I could see it said ‘David’, and just that. If I’d been expecting heart emojis, I was cruelly let down.

“Aww,” I said, “it’s the boyfriend.”

“I told you his status is pending,” Nightingale told me sternly. “He’s not presently my boyfriend.” He accepted the call. “Hello, darling.”

If I’d had a drink just then, I would have spat it.

“Mh,” Nightingale said, in reply to something on David’s side. “Yes. You can tell Molly that I’ll definitely be home for dinner. I can make no such promises regarding Peter. Unless...?”

He gave me a questioning look, but I shook my head. I was going to have dinner at Bev’s. What with there being a new case now, things were bound to get busy for me, and I wanted to spend as much time with Bev as I could.

“Ah,” Nightingale said. “Apparently not. Well, I’ll be seeing you shortly. What? Oh. Yes, yes, I love you too, David, goodbye.”

He hung up and gave me a token annoyed look. There was no real force behind it. “Well, that was David.”

I grinned at him. “Cute,” I said. “Did you two make up?”

Nightingale shook his head. “Not in the slightest. What makes you think that?”

I gestured a bit awkwardly. “Well... just now, you said...”

“It was a statement of fact. I am angry at David - inordinately furious, really, at David - but that doesn’t mean I don’t also love him. My anger and my regard for him can coexist.”

That seemed weird to me, but also... so simple. He wasn’t having a big crisis about that part of things at the very least. Nightingale was frighteningly straightforward sometimes, and ready to accept all manner of things. And then I saw how he was trying very hard not to smile as he pocketed his phone, and how he kept looking around the place as we walked to the parking lot where we’d left the Jag with a kind of wonder, like he was seeing London with new eyes - and liking what he saw. And I thought, yeah, they’ll be alright.

And I felt... weird about that.

Not because I still felt horrified by the gay sex thing.

At least I dearly hoped so.

There was something else...

I didn’t know what.

But just then, for a split-second, I had felt almost... annoyed by David calling, because Nightingale and I had been having a moment here goddamn it, and these moments of the two of us just doing something together without there being immediate combat had grown sparse of late, what with Lesley and Chorley. And I’d thought, oh sure, it’s his boyfriend, in an acidic tone that took me aback. I’d wanted... I don’t know. To have Nightingale to myself, maybe, for a few minutes before I’d get permanently busy with Bev and... well... and all that.

“Oh god, I’m having a child,” I said out loud.

“I’m sure you’ll make a splendid parent,” Nightingale said, almost absentmindedly. His eyes were far away, probably resting on some distant, David-related memory. “Don’t forget to apply for paternal leave.”

Apparently his new emotional approachability only extended so far.

----

By the time we got back to the Folly, Guleed had sent me the initial witness testimonials, but I would have to go talk to them all again anyway to check for magic. I decided to start right there at the theatre.

Rehearsals were already in full swing again when I walked in - I found that morbid but the show must go on, I suppose. I swung by Mr. Johnson in the janitorial office first. He was rather helpful in establishing a timeline for the evening: he made a round of the building before going home at about 8 pm, during which he crossed the night watchman, Mr. Singh. Apart from that, he was either in his office or performing maintenance duties in and around the building as-needed. Ms. Maxwell had died at about seven thirty. And sure, Guleed had already asked about this stuff, and included it in her e-mail to me, but it never hurt to ask again. At least one of the people here was holding something back, and sometimes people maintaining a lie got confused.

The cleaning lady reminded me of Varvara, but that was probably just her Russianness and didn’t necessarily have to mean something. While she had all sorts of delightful opinions on the actors, technicians, director, owner of the theatre and about everyone else working here, none of it was precisely helpful. “The place is going to the dumps,” she opined. “I have been cleaning here for five years and haven’t looked at a pay raise in three.”

I expressed my sympathies and, in a lowered voice, she told me, “I hear next year they’re going to put... the Scottish play on.”

Not quite knowing what to do with that, I nodded and left her to her work.

Mr. Sheen, the director didn’t have much time for me, seeing as he was supervising the rehearsal. When I asked him to confirm the cleaning lady’s account of whether the establishment was struggling financially, he said something to the effect of, “Well, we’ve always muddled through. It’s an uncertain business, with the audience, predicting what will land is always a gamble.” When asked about Ms. Maxwell, he said it was a pity, and that she’d been a dependable employee, and not much more.

He seemed stressed, concerned. The opening night of their musical was soon. Perhaps people weren’t going to patronize an establishment where someone had been murdered, he said, like that was the most important thing here. When I went to interview the actress in her dressing room, she said “I play the character of Janet” before telling me her actual name. These people were weird, and not a type of weird I was privy to.

But let’s tell it in order. I knocked, went into the actress’s dressing room, and found none other than David Mellenby there drinking tea with her. They were seated next to the vanity that held all her stage makeup, drinking from mismatched cups, the actress thumbing through her role book as they talked, as though this was commonplace, as though David was even remotely supposed to be here.

“Hello,” he said when he saw me, his face lighting up in a genuine smile. “This is Constable Grant, he’s very capable at his job,” he introduced me to the actress, all gallantry and outdated manners and breezing blithely past the fact that I had no bloody idea why he was here and it was likely to make my day substantially more complicated.

“And what... on earth... are you doing here?” I asked him.

“I thought it interesting to return here,” David said mildly, sipping green tea from a mug that bore the classic “You Don’t Have To Be Mad To Work Here, But It Helps!” slogan.

I took a deep breath, about ready to tell him that he absolutely should not have come, that he was in no way affiliated with this investigation, and that Nightingale would blow his fuse if he heard, and... I didn’t. I snapped my mouth shut again. Discussing this in front of one of the suspects would make both of us look bad, and that wasn’t something I was prepared to deal with.

So I simply also took a seat on the last free chair. “Alright,” I said.”Great. Now, I’d like to ask a few questions, just quickly.”

“I’ve been asked many questions by many policemen already,” the actress said. She had a quiet, melodic voice. “And they kind of need me at rehearsal.”

“I’ll just be a minute,” I replied. “And then I’m sure we’ll all be out of your hair for now.”

The actress sighed. She was a thin white girl, late twenties I thought, who’d recently dyed her hair blonde, maybe for the role. Combined with her dark clothes, it had the effect of making her look a bit disfavorably pallid and drawn. “I guess go ahead.”

I got out my notebook and a ballpoint pen and tossed them at David. if he was going to hang around, he might as well take notes.

“How long have you been an actress here, Ms...?” There. Nice and general.

“I’m engaged for the year,” she replied. “I play the role of Janet. It’s the female lead.”

“Impressive,” I said, because she really seemed to want me to. “And your name was...?”

“Cora Watley, um, Cora Jane Watley.” She shifted a bit in her seat, clasping her tea cup with both hands. “But I already told PC Guleed, and then DCI Nightingale.”

This gave me pause, because I’d had no idea that Nightingale had been through here, but then David caught my eye and stealthily held up... Nightingale’s warrant card, and wiggled it at me by way of explanantion.

Un-fucking-believable.

“I... okay.” I nodded at David, trying to send him a glare that silently communicated that we’d need to address this later. “As I said, Ms. Watley, just one or two more questions for the records.”

“What kinds of questions?” the actress asked. She seemed nervous, but trying to appear unflappable, but everyone here, down to the cleaning lady, seemed high-strung, what with their opening night coming up and the murder (and, yes, very much in that order of importance). Besides which, being a suspect in a criminal investigation is bound to unnerve most people. But did her nerves look like those of a guilty person, or simply like someone hoping not to get caught in the crossfire?

“For example, how well did you know Ms. Maxwell?” I asked.

The young woman shrugged. “Not too well. We’ve talked in passing. But she seemed... nice. Not the kind of person you’d murder, I’d think.”

“But she was... not well-liked here?” I tried.

“No, I do think she was. I don’t know, I’ve only been here for a year. But what gives you that idea?”

I took another deep breath. It felt strange, and tasted strange too, like there was greasepaint coating my lips and tongue. Weird. Was that just the air in here? It smelled pervasively of stage makeup. “Well, nobody here I’ve talked to seemed very... affected by the murder. Was Ms. Maxwell unpopular, or did she keep to herself...?”

Ms. Watley laughed. “Oh, she did not keep to herself, no. I’m certain people are affected. It just needs time to settle in, and with opening night so close, the place is a madhouse anyway. Even murder becomes just one more thing.”

I exchanged a look with David, who looked quizzically back. He was tugging at his cuffs again, even harder than usual.

“Would you have noticed if Ms. Maxwell had done anything... unusual, lately?”

“Unusual how?” The actress asked. There was that feeling again, that strange taste on my tongue when I breathed. Now it was accompanied by a sensation like scratchy cloth on my skin, and a glare of too-warm light from overhead. Were these vestigia? But then what was emanating them? “She had that weird hobby, I don’t know. Something about occultism, not really my thing at all. Do you mean that?”

I put on a neutral face that I hoped looked just like the one Nightingale always did. Gosh, but that glaring light was getting annoying. “Do I mean that?”

“It’s about the most unusual thing Deirdre had going on, I guess. I mean, I don’t know. Two months ago she said she was going to make a business of it, selling... palm readings or something to people online. No idea how that’s supposed to work.”

“This might be tangentially related. Did she ever... bring that hobby of hers into work in any way?”

Cora Watley crossed her arms. “What do you mean by that?”

What did I mean by that? It probably wasn’t the most intelligent way to find out about Ms. Maxwell’s fortune telling business and if it had led to her murder. But David being here irritated me, and these sensations or vestigia that I couldn’t place irritated me, and... maybe it was time to get out of here.

I said my bit, gestured to David to follow, and left the dressing room. We stood out in the hallway leading from the dressing rooms back out to the stage, facing each other.

“Why did we leave?” David asked.

“Why do you have Nightingale’s warrant card?” I rounded on him.

“I took the liberty of removing it out of his jacket.” He didn’t look the least bit regretful of this. “I’m confident I’ll be able to replace it before he even notices it’s gone.”

“I’m... pretty sure that’s a crime,” I said.

David shrugged his shoulders. “I thank you for your discretion, then.”

“That’s not how the police works these days,” I said. “That’s not how I work. You can’t wave at me and make me go away. I’m not the help.”

David had looked like he was going to be rebellious, but now he visibly deflated. He averted his eyes, picking at his sleeve. “I am dearly sorry,” he admitted.

I sighed, willing my irritation to simmer down. “Just what are you doing?” I asked, more calmly. “Nightingale said you are to stay away from the investigation. He was very clear, and he was right. People don’t play detective and crack the code, normally.”

He lifted his chin, suddenly again defiant. “Thomas is not my Captain anymore. Where does he get off, anyway, thinking I’ll obey his every order?”

Was that what this was? Another way to passive-aggressively carry out their lovers’ spat? I already felt exhausted with this. “Look, the way I see it... Nightingale is coming around. You guys might be okay, why go on pissing him off more?”

Not really wanting to stand around waiting for his answer, I started making my way back out to the stage. David was keeping pace with me. “Ingratiating myself to Thomas is not my entire purpose, you know,” he said. “I am a scientist foremost. I can’t not investigate things. There is a conundrum here, and I must know. Knowledge is not gained by adhering to what others say, or by failing to take risks.”

I was tempted to remind him that this here was a real crime scene, not a Sherlock Holmes story with him in the titular role. What did end up coming out of my mouth was, “I heard that was the exact attitude that led you all to Ettersberg.”

As soon as I’d said it, I knew it might have been a bit too much. As I stepped out on stage where the actors and director had since ended their rehearsal and cleared out, I heard nothing but silence behind me and, then, a long, deep, guttural sigh.

“You’re right,” David said, drawing level with me - he was pressing his hands to his temples. “I’m doing all the same things that I did before. I’m slipping back into the same behaviors. Assuming I know better. How have I not learned from what happened?”

Well, what could I say to that?

“I just get so blinkered sometimes,” David continued. “I don’t know why. And Thomas...”

He sighed once more. “Thomas was always the golden boy with all the natural talent. Coasting by when others struggled. I just want to show him that I also can achieve greatly. That I can stand beside him as his equal, not always one step behind playing catch-up. But Thomas never understood my efforts, my work. My research. And then I found friends at Weimar who were genuinely appreciative of my theories, but they took my work and made... well... of course, I told myself, Thomas couldn’t understand why I felt slighted. Why I felt hurt. But he simply looked at the way things were with clearer eyes. Of course 800 human lives were more important than my hurt.”

I gave him a strained smile. “You know what, it might do a great deal in your favor if you told him what you just told me.”

I took another step onto the stage. This environment was bringing back persistent little wisps of uncomfortable memories of the Punch case. Sure, this stage was a lot smaller and less glamorous than the one at the Royal Opera House. But... still. But surely this wasn’t Punch-related, right? We hadn’t heard of him since the incident with Chorley’s bell. I’d have to ask Les-

No.

No.

What the hell, brain? Really, still? After all this time?

“These... weird vestigia in here,” David said suddenly. “Do you feel them too?”

And I did feel them. For a fleeting moment, I felt in full force the glare of the stage lights, the bead of sweat running into my neck down into the collar of my costume, the theater makeup itchy on my face, the exhilaration coupled with stage fright and before me the murmur of the audience, waiting to be entranced, or disappointed, by me.

I shook my head, and was myself again. “Yeah, it’s like... like an actor, ten seconds before their big scene, or whatever.”

“Hmm.” David tugged at his cuffs again.

“We should get out of here.”

----

“Why did we leave?” David asked again, as we were standing out in the street up front of the theatre again. Why indeed? I had felt... dazed, in there, I’d felt a need to leave the building. I was sure he had felt the same.

“I don’t know. But something was extremely strange about that crime scene.”

“We don’t know what we’re dealing with, so we’re... retreating?”

It had a militaristic air to it, ‘retreating’. He had probably intended that. “Let’s call it regrouping,” I said. “Besides, Nightingale was right. Our concern should be the magical object. Guess I’ll have to find whoever would know about a magical crystal ball around which murders happen.”

That was going to be a needle-in-a-haystack search. The exact kind of busy work everyone wishes they could delegate to someone lower on the chain of command. With the Folly’s command structure being as it was, unfortunately I was the person this type of work was delegated to.

David must have seen my displeasure with the situation, because he said, “You could let me do it.”

Really? Hadn’t we had that conversation about five minutes ago? I told him as such.

“Sure,” he said. “But I don’t have anything else to do. I’m going out of my mind with the amount of nothing I’m contributing. Please.”

So he was determined to keep on learning nothing from his experiences. Not exactly stellar practice. But was that really my problem?

“Look,” I said, “You’ll talk to Nightingale, okay?”

#david mellenby lives AU #look i didn't have a good time writing this. i had such a not good time that i stalled the whole weekend #i don't like doing a plot i just want to do emotional gays saying stuff at each other #the next chapter will be that again but sometimes you need filler chapters #this is such a one

[buffintruder]

So I’ve been thinking about a Supernatural au for Rivers of London. Peter Grant is like the exact opposite of almost everything supernatural stands for (also it’s been like four years since I’ve thought about that show), so it’s incredibly hard to find a balance between the two stories, but this is the best I could come up with.

Peter Grant is a cop somewhere in America. One day, he and his partner Lesley May come across a bunch of murders that are being committed by a ghost. Of course, they don’t believe in ghosts and aren’t prepared at all to handle them, but they put a lot of the pieces together and get pretty close to figuring it all out, though the two of them can’t quite agree on the nature of their murderer. They manage to track down the ghost and are about to be killed in the confrontation when Nightingale, a mysterious man who has been popping up for most of their investigation, rushes in at the last minute and saves Peter and Lesley.

During the fight, Leslie gets pretty hurt, and her face especially is ruined. She ends up in the hospital for a couple months, but after she’s released, she joins Peter and Nightingale.

Meanwhile, Peter is learning what’s really going on. He learns that the world is full of ghosts and demons and vampires and every kind of creature imaginable, and that there are people who hunt them down to stop them from killing humans. Most work solo or in pairs now, but there was once an organization built to stop them, the Men of Letters. A demon attack left them all dead decades ago, but Nightingale managed to survive and, for reasons unknown, started aging backwards in the late ‘60s.

There are a lot of issues that Peter has with the way things are done. First of all, the Men of Letters were the ones that set up most of the procedures when it comes to hunting. They were all a bunch of upper middle class white guys, and we all know how well they are at making decisions that benefit everybody, so  their system is far from perfect. But at the same time, he does think it’s better than a bunch of vigilantes running around killing everyone who isn’t human. There needs to be something in place that ensures these things are fair and efficiently dealt with. It needs to be something that humans and magical creatures alike agree upon because a handful of hunters are not effective against millions of gods and spirits and werewolves. It can only work through cooperation and mutual respect.

Nightingale does recognize that not all magic is evil and that ‘not human’ does not necessarily equal ‘threat.’ After all, there is Molly who lives in the Men of Letters bunker and a few river deities that he speaks to. So although he’s a bit skeptical, he agrees to help, and so does Lesley once she’s released from the hospital. They can’t involve the American government, but they can set up their own thing. The People of Letters (because why keep around sexist terms?) agree that they can’t be in charge of whatever magical governing system because no one would trust them; they can only organize it by drawing relevant parties together and make sure that things don’t get violent. 

Peter meets the river goddesses, eventually even getting into a relationship with one of them. The rivers are interested in having a major role in this new system, and they have more contacts in the magical community (though most of it is too unconnected and distant for it all to truly be called a community) so it works out well enough.

Things are coming along slowly, but they aren’t going terribly yet, and even Nightingale is starting to feel optimistic about this. Peter is busy researching laws and how they are enforced, trying to figure out how to apply them to beings who can deal in souls and live forever.

But around that time, more cases involving demons are happening each month. Peter runs into one of his former colleagues, Sahra Guleed, and she ends up learning about the existence of the supernatural. It actually ends up working well, because now Sahra is far better equipped to deal with those sort of cases and it means that hunters don’t have to worry about small stuff in the area. (She isn’t the only outsider who finds out, since Peter accidentally reveals to his younger cousin the existence of magic and she demands to be let in on all the secrets). It makes Peter start to question whether or not it’s a good idea to keep this all from the government. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to simply create a new branch of the government dedicated to dealing with this kind of thing?

But before Peter can start thinking about how to implement such a thing, Lesley makes a deal with the mysterious and faceless king of the crossroads. She gets her face back in exchange for service to the crossroad demons. This is in direct conflict with the People of Letters because the crossroad demons don’t like the regulations the system Peter Grant is trying to set up would put on them. They don’t like the idea that anybody would be allowed to stop them from cheating people of their souls.

I don’t really have the rest of this figured out, but yeah

#rivers of london #peter grant #thomas nightingale #sahra guleed #the faceless man #martin chorley #lesley may #abigail kamara #beverley brook #no spoilers past broken homes #my post #supernatural

[definitely-not-an-alb]

Okay so I was thinking about how I’d do a Rivers of London TV Adaptation, and I was having a few thoughts;

I honestly think our best bet is something Whitechaple-esq, with short seasons and long episodes (45 min to an hour, I’d say) with overarching Plots. Actually, I’d take A LOT of pointers from Whitechaple, because that series was fucking good and I still haven’t seen the end ugh. Anyways, moving on.

I’d say four episodes for the first season/the first book; Take the first episode to set up the Punch case, then the second episode is going to be our season’s filler: This is where the entire Thames conflict goes, and it’s an entire episode where Nightingale can go take a nap and we’ll spent with Peter, Bev and Lesley. That’d a) give Bev more screen time and b) give me the opportunity to make the difference in relationship clear (aka Peter & Lesley is a friendship with a weird sexual undercurrent that won’t pan out vs. Bev as a future Love Interest). I’d actually resolve the Thames Plot in E2 and then have Bev hang around for E3 and E4 with that ‘I’m gonna be put on a bus at the end of the season’ in the background. It’s better for pacing to do it all at once and not have it interfere with the (already complicated enough) plot of the main arc and gives us the opportunity to firmly establish that Bev Will Return at some point. I’d also introduce Abigail as a side character in E2 already, just to have her Already Been Around from the beginning.

Season 2 I’d go with six episodes. The first three are just going to be MoS, then you have a season break, then one episode filler with Guleed & Peter. Set up the Chinese Tradition (and generally some of the Demi-Monde stuff from THT) and foreshadowing Sahra/Micheal here, we won’t have time for it later, plus Sahra get’s to be even more of a badass even sooner. Plus having Peter watch someone else have a shot at a relationship while he’s still realing from his (consensually and ethically iffy) femme fatale can give the viewer (but not him) some closure on that arc. Simone is done, and we’re (narratively) moving on.

E5 and E6 is WuG. That book is the shortest, and it’s only a week, so we’ll have some time for Lesley’s & Peter’s bullshit and we can also, since Ash presumably returned upstream during E4, have Bev return around this time. I’d actually have Peter and Bev have that confrontation about Peter not calling her here, making it clear that she’s considering him her LI and that her complete absencs from the Season was a deliberate choice (and Peter being an oblivious dumbass).

I’d actually do Season 3 much the same way, except I’d put BH into E1, E3, and then the betrayal in E4, with the filler being in E2. I’d do E2 with something more lighthearted with some screen time for Bev and Abigail (maybe incorporate the Spring Court here instead of into the main plot). Make it seem in a few scenes as if we’re calling back to Season 1′s second episode with Bev & Lesley, actually, go full in and make it the crime procedurals’ version of a funky double date episode, Bev and Peter are obviously becoming a thing in need of some serious pushing to become A Thing here, and have Lesley seem better and being newly in love with Zach in the background. Make it almost saccharine, in a way that no one actually care’s about this episode’s plot. Make it so that people complain about there not being a proper Mid Season Climax. Make it seem dumb. Season break. At this point, everyone will have forgotten about E3′s plot, and expect a continued focus on the romantic relationships (because this is a TV show and that’s just what happens around Season 3. Season 7, Time For A Wedding and all that) so now it’s BETRAYAL TIME BITCHES.

Add to the regular betrayal that E3′s super-dumb plot no one cared about or remembered was actually 100% Lesley running interference on behalf of Faceless. No sinister pans or any shit like that during E3, though, just reframing of actions through new revelations. Lesley dismissing this lead. Lesley steering Peter away from that thing. This is to keep people from complaining her betrayal was OOC, because we have a really recent and unsubtle (in comparison to the other stuff throughout the series) example of her already having turned ages ago.

Get the betrayal out of the way relatively early for a climax, so about 2/3 through the episode. Then we get some Quality Peter Reeling And Pushing People Away and some Concerned And Shut-Out Bev and some Slightly Concerned Nightingale, and end E4 with Peter driving out for FS, because even when he’s fucked up, he still can’t stop.

FS, again, is a bit shorter, and there’s again a lot happening in very short time, so I think 2 Hours are more then enough here. Also this way we get to end S3 on Peter opening up and Peter and Bev getting together, which makes for a pretty neat Season finally.

And then I’d do Season 4 with THT and LS as a double arc with each three episodes. No filler episodes here, except if the studio deigns to lent a seventh episode for something like Furthest Station.

AND BEFORE I FORGET: NO dumb Starlingale queerbaiting (a few jokes along the lines of the books are fine, but non of that Sherlock Crap or I’ll flip, I can’t do this again) and make Nightingale and Molly the Series’ comic duo with both of them playing the Straitlaced One. idk BBC give me a TV series I’m obviously better at this then Moffat. (I know this isn’t produced by BBC I’m just kidding)

Some additions by @gaymelie: 1) Cast and actually mute actress for Molly; 2) go deeper into how Peter/Simone is kinda creepy.

#rivers of london #rivers of london TV #anyone else any input? #I wrote this in like an hour and concentrated on the Mess that's going to be Lesley On TV so that's why I'm mostly touching on that #because while I get that it's going to be annoying a bit we have to set that up properly or it won't work #and also also she's; in the end; a really well-written antagonist #and a well-written (!) DISABLED; WOMAN Antagonist #And I'd prefare they don't fuck that up

[luthienebonyx]

Yuletide Recs

This is the first time in about five years that I've participated in Yuletide, and I was the very lucky recipient of two lovely gift fics, both of which gave me exactly what I wanted for their respective fandoms. I've also done recs for nine other stories that I enjoyed a lot. My two gifts: Peelian Principles Fandom: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch Author's summary: "You're very calm about this," Seawoll said on the fifth day. Characters: Peter Grant, Thomas Nightingale, Alexander Seawoll, Martin Chorley, Sahra Guleed This is Nightingale's POV during the period in Lies Sleeping when Peter was held prisoner. I really felt the lack of Nightingale after I read Lies Sleeping, and this story does a terrific job of satisfying the ache I had to know what was going on with him. This is a fabulous portrait of Nightingale. I particularly love all the little, Nightingale-ish ways in which he betrays that he's frantically worried about Peter. I love this story and would rec it even if it wasn't written for me - but it WAS written for me, which just makes it all the better. Who Interrupts the Act Fandom: Sebastian St Cyr Mysteries - CS Harris Author's summary: Sebastian just wants to reunite with his wife. Unfortunately for him, everyone else seems to have other ideas. Characters/Pairing: Sebastian St Cyr/Hero Jarvis I asked in my request for a story in which Sebastian and Hero at least try to be a normal Regency titled couple without a murder or some sort of mystery getting in the way for at least a little while - and this story has fulfilled that beautifully. The setting has been realised in just the right way and the constant interruptions provide little cameos for various other characters. I love the clues to a possible case that each visitor brings, and would really love to read about it at some point. Sebastian and Hero have other things on their minds, however. ;) I'm just so happy that this story exists! Other recs: A love so much refined Fandom: Devil's Cub - Georgette Heyer Author's summary: "Your transformation into a doting husband astounds, but you must also be seen out and about in order to ensure no one questions the legitimacy of the story we've concocted." Characters/Pairing: Dominic Alistair/Mary Challoner, Justin Alistair, Leonie Alistair Devil's Cub has a certain something about it that sets it a little apart from Heyer's other works for me. I'm not quite sure exactly what that certain something is, except that this story has nailed it. It feels like the world of Devil's Cub. It's Dominic's POV, and I do love the way he's written here, but all of the characters are done well - most particularly Justin - and the married relationship between Dominic and Mary is everything I could have asked for. The Bones of the Hills Fandom: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, The Tiffany Aching series - Terry Pratchett Author's summary: The old people called the biggest flints 'calkins', which meant 'chalk children'. Characters: Tiffany Aching, Nac Mac Feegle The Nac Mac Feegle find an orphaned baby troll, and the usual sorts of things ensue. This story manages to capture not just Tiffany and the Nac Mac Feegle but the essence of Pratchett. The dialogue and Tiffany's POV are both top-notch, but the pun… OMG, the pun - or play on words - towards the end is as terrible as the best puns always are. Madalena and the Dark Dark Evil Wings Fandom: Galavant Author's summary: The day that Madalena wakes up with wings is a good day. Characters: Madalena, Wormwood Oh, man, post-canon Madalena wing fic!!! I loved Madalena's POV all through this, her shallowness and self-absorption and utter disdain for anyone who isn't her, and her delight in her beautiful black Dark Dark Evil Wings. I loved the Dark Dark Evil Everything in this, and had to stop to listen to 'Do the D'DEW' when I was halfway through reading. Precedent Fandom: The Good Place Author's summary: What do you do when God kisses you? Characters/Pairing: Chidi Anagonye/Eleanor Shellstrop Set during Season 4. Eleanor kisses Chidi and Chidi is plunged into a crisis of indecision (more than usual). Chidi's constantly stressed running inner commentary is VERY him, and I can also hear Eleanor clearly in her dialogue. I love the point he's at when the story reaches its end. Never Be Anyone Else But You Fandom: The Marvelous Mrs Maisel Author's summary: Susie Myerson is on tour with her favourite (only) client. It could be worse. Characters/Pairings: Midge Maisel/Susie Myerson, Midge Maisel/Lenny Bruce This is a fabulous character study of Susie and her many feelings about Midge the entertainer and Midge the person. I loved how brash her inner voice is, even when she's reflecting on past pain and unhappiness. Need Against Need Fandom: Mindhunter Author's summary: At the end of the hall there was another door, a bedroom door, Bill suddenly realized, and his breath caught. Holden opened it without hesitation, and Bill followed him across the threshold. Characters/Pairing: Holden Ford/Bill Tench A small window into Bill's deepest and darkest desires. This story is short and intense, and suits the canon and the characters really well. The Snow Woman Fandom: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch Author's summary: Teresa Nightingale and Peggy Grant deal with someone freezing people to death in London. Characters: Peter Grant, Thomas Nightingale A genderswap/Rule 63 case fic. Peter/Peggy's narrator sounds just right, and I particularly love this Nightingale, and all the ways in which she is so very much a female product of the Edwardian age while still being very much Nightingale. Through All the Years, This is My Home Fandom: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch Author's summary: At night, when the rest of the staff and most, if not all, of the masters were asleep, Molly would wander the moonlit halls and remember what fresh air felt like on her skin. Of Molly, of Thomas, and of the years they've spent together - and of the Folly, strong and everlasting. Characters: Molly, Thomas Nightingale This is a lovely character study of Molly through the years, and about her bond with Nightingale - and with the Folly itself. If You Could Only See the Beast You've Made of Me Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows (2014) Author's summary: One must never lose sight of what's really important, even especially if one is a werewolf. Characters/Pairing: Stu, Nick, with a hint of pre Stu/Nick Stu POV after he becomes a werewolf. This story made me laugh and laugh and laugh. The Stu voice is perfect, and there are so many great lines that the story left me with a huge grin on my face.

#yuletide #recs #yuletide recs #spotlight saturday

[sixth-light]

Chekhov’s Garden Shed

For the last four or five years, the RoL fandom has had a masterpost of Chekhov’s guns/unanswered questions from the series – the last version, with links to the original, can be found here. Past contributors include @deviantaccumulation, @the-high-meggas, @maple-clef, @uncommonsockeater​, and @flannelgiraffe, as well as others who I have doubtless forgotten. [If that’s you or someone you know, please speak up!]

Ben Aaronovitch has indicated that he views the various open questions of the series as less of a set of ‘guns on the mantelpiece’ (which must be taken down and fired before the series is finished) and more a ‘garden shed’ of things he thinks might be useful one day but could also end up rusting in the back after getting buried under other things. The fun is finding out which is which. (Thanks to @ilikesallydonovan for originally reporting this and chasing down the link!)

So, without further ado, here is the renamed Chekhov’s Garden Shed Of Stuff That Might Come Back Later. It’s separated into Answered Questions, Partially-Answered Questions, and Things Still Buried At The Back Of The Shed. I enthusiastically welcome comments, corrections, and missing items. Contains spoilers for all published RoL-related material including the novellas, comics, online snippets, and interviews with the author. A mirror of this version can be found at Dreamwidth – I will try and keep it updated as I update this one.

ANSWERED QUESTIONS:

·        What the fox said to Abigail in WuG It was warning her about Chorley’s involvement with/interest in Skygarden. 

·        Peter’s father needs a few thousand for dental work; his mum is very keen to get the money so that he might re-launch his career. They’ve already done a gig (beaucoup money) for Ty. Will this be a vulnerability for Peter at some point? Apparently not; his dad’s band do regular gigs for the demi-monde, his dad has his new teeth, and Ty doesn’t seem to have been involved at all. Peter just has to live with his parents being better-informed about his work and new world than he might like! 

·        Will we see Awa Shambir again? Her of the suspiciously expensive hijab to be cleaning the offices (of a front organisation for an evil wizard) in… Goodbye Awa Shambir the Somali cleaning lady, hello Lady Caroline Elizabeth Louise Linden-Limmer, surreptitiously aerial scion of nobility. 

·        What was Molly doing in the tech cave? Is she on facebook/twitter/tumblr/a cooking forum? Looking up recipes? Has she discovered online shopping? Molly is active on Twitter gossiping and swapping recipes; it’s not a secret from either Peter or Nightingale, they just pretend not to know. 

·        Is that watch Nightingale gave Peter going to have any future relevance? Peter and Caroline had a watch-off in The Hanging Tree which Peter won, and the practitioner habit of wearing mechanical (and hideously expensive) watches enabled Peter to identify Chorley as the Faceless Man. 

·        Who is Mr. Nolfi’s mother? Where did she learn magic? and Have any other Newtonian wizards continued to practice in secret and/or trained apprentices in other parts of the country, without telling Nightingale? (Broader: was Nightingale mostly wrong about being the last wizard in Britain or really, totally, 100% wrong?) and What about the “female affiliates” of the Little Crocodiles? and How many wizards did Wheatcroft actually train and where are they now? Most of an answer to all of these: there’s a long-standing tradition of women practicing and teaching each other Newtonian magic dating back to before the founding of the official Folly. Mr Nolfi’s mother and the ‘female affiliates’ of the Little Crocodiles could well have come from this tradition. And Nightingale was totally utterly wrong about being the last wizard in Britain. Practitioners exist trained by ‘hedge’ wizards and witches, trained by Little Crocodiles, immigrated and bringing other traditions with them…that cat is not only out of the bag, it was never even in it. C.f. Patrick Gale and co. in Detective Stories and Lies Sleeping. However, many Little Crocodiles never really learned magic at all, or managed to brush it off after university as unimportant – unfortunately for them, Martin Chorley targeted them as tools and bait.

PARTIALLY-ANSWERED QUESTIONS:

·        What happened at Ettersberg that caused magic to disappear? Answered in various interviews: magic didn’t disappear at Ettersberg as an objective thing, but a lot of practitioners were wiped out by the war and the Nazis, as well as a lot of genii locorum and other fae and magical people. Nightingale over-indexed on this because he was depressed and traumatised, and the magic ‘coming back’ is a combination of a new generation of gods, fae, and practitioners growing up, and Nightingale noticing the ones who were there all along.

·        Where are the notes Peter was promised? Peter has a deal with Nightingale about getting questions answered in return for magical progress; we haven’t seen him look at any old wizard’s notes specifically but he doesn’t seem to be waiting on them. 

·        What was Nightingale doing in the 70s that he managed to miss the original FM’s adventure in Soho? Working with the Met, apparently - he was called in when Woodville-Gentle got his at Lady Helena’s hands, but too late to determine whether it was magic. Seems like he just wasn’t paying enough attention to what was going on around him!

·        What was Peter doing after he left school and while he was a PCSO? Why did he have problems during his A levels? Why did he join the police? Peter flatted and worked retail for a while after he left school (possibly while he was at school, too). We still don’t know what happened with his A-levels or what led him to join the police. 

·        Outwith the Met, does the Folly answer to the Home Office (or higher)? There are hints at that (cf. Walid in RoL), but nothing more and Who is Nightingale’s boss/who does Postmartin send his files to?  No direct answer to who they answer to beyond what we already knew, but we learn in THT that they have their own source of funding and aren’t an official part of the Met. Nightingale does not appear to have any direct supervisor beyond the Commissioner (or presumably they would have been informed/called when he was kidnapped in Night Witch). 

·        How do “Hedge Witches” practise magic; how does it differ from formal Newtonian magic and will we get to meet any? Are “Hedge Wizards” simply rusticated Newtonian wizards, or do they also have informally-developed skillz? Per the one we meet in Black Mould: hedge witches and wizards have informally-developed skills rather than just being rusticated Folly wizards, but how close their magic is to the style Peter is learning, it’s hard to say (because it was a comic.) Others are probably from the female tradition, ex-Newtonian wizards, etc – it’s a mixed group.

·        How old is Postmartin, exactly (Peter thinks he looks older and frailer than his Dad, who’s in his 70s, but that’s just his guess)? How did he get that job, and is he ‘just’ a civilian affiliate, like Walid, or something else? Who does he answer to, and what happens if/when he needs replacing? What’s his twitter handle?! Postmartin served during the Korean War, so must have been born between 1928 and 1936 (per @sparrow-wings) - he’s currently in his 80s, as it’s late 2015 in current book time. His Twitter handle might be “dyingforafag” (who Molly is chatting to in Body Work). 

·        What sort of experiments were the Nazis doing with vampires? (Do we want to know? Proooooooooooobably not.) and Can the Rivers be killed, if they’re badly injured enough far enough away from their river? What happens then? We found out in Lies Sleeping you can use ‘tinned vampires’ to kill and hurt genii locorum and discomfit practitioners, so that’s…you know…fine. Rivers can definitely be killed in general, c.f. the former Lugg whom the Methodists got to. It’s only functional immortality.

·        What’s the deal with Mr. Punch when Peter’s leaving London at the beginning of Foxglove Summer? Is he coming back? Is it only Peter who senses him? If so, why? and How are Lesley and Punch connected? And What powers does Lesley have now aside from face-changing, if any? Martin Chorley was trying to murder Punch, who was a god of chaos and vengeance, in order to 1) gain magical power 2) ????? 3) glorious white supremacy. Lesley agreed to help Chorley to get back at Punch, but may still have some connection to him, having survived possession by him; she certainly has magical powers of her own now, being able to change her face at will. They wanted Punch powered up so he’d be a better source of magic when taken down. Punch was still pinned to London Bridge, but was freed by Peter. He can be talked down by his daughter Walbrook, but for better or worse, he’s out and a player in London’s magical ecosystem. Let’s hope Peter’s right and he plays an important role in it.  

·        How and why did Isis become immortal, since just marrying a River doesn’t appear to do the trick? Kelly tells Tobi Winter in The October Man that sometimes the partners/spouses/better halves of Rivers do just pick up immortality, although even she as an elder River doesn’t know exactly how or why that happens. Probably it’s what happened to Isis. Why it hasn’t happened to George McAlister is an open question.

·        What does it mean that Michael Cheung is ‘the new guy in Chinatown’? and Is there something going on with Guleed (PLEASE NO) or is she just picking up things about the demi-monde via her friendship with Bev (…and others)? Michael Cheung is the latest of a long line of people who have responsibility for any magical shenanigans in London’s Chinatown, so 1) the Folly/Nightingale don’t have to worry about it and 2) Chinatown doesn’t have to be offended by their attempts to worry about it. He’s dating Guleed and teaching her cool martial arts magic. Whether she has other demi-monde contacts is not yet clear.

·        Who is Chorley’s mole within the Met?  Probably not Seawoll, Stephanopoulos, Richard Folsom, Guleed, or Carey, due to the security practices put in place during Operation Jennifer. But if not any of them….then who?

·        How/why the fox knows about [Skygarden and Chorley], (and why it would tell Abigail) According to Abigail, the talking foxes view themselves as secret agents, and someone like Chorley would naturally draw their attention. Why they do so and who they think they should be reporting to is still unclear (but may be elucidated in the Abigail novella).

STILL BURIED IN THE SHED SOMEWHERE:

·        What about the paintings of Molly and a blue-eyed elderly man who looks like Nightingale that Peter found in the coach house?

·        Are there really werewolves or just creepy magic trackers called werewolves? (I’m waiting for them to turn up.)

·        Why does Fleet have a captain of dogs? What do her dogs do? (Is this related to the werewolves? Were-dogs?)

·        What’s the actual connection between Wheatcroft, FM1 (Woodville-Gentle, if that’s him) and FM2? Did he train them both, or did W-G train FM2? NB: Unlikely to be directly answered now Chorley is dead.

·        What’s up with Abigail’s apparently useless protection charm?

·        Is there a special reason that Nightingale is called The Nightingale? (+ is he strong/good at magic because of hard work or something else.)

·        People I’d like to know more about: Nightingale’s uncle, David Mellenby, Nightingale’s family.

·        How much do senior officers in the Met really know about the Folly/Nightingale/magic? Is it well-known that Nightingale has been running the Folly since the 1940s?

·        How did Nightingale learn the language Father Thames speaks?

·        How much does Nightingale and/or Walid know/suspect about the deaging thing? How much of this aren’t he/they telling Peter?

·        How did Walid and Nightingale meet?

·        Are there aliens?

·        Was the 1911 decrease of odd magical activity in Herefordshire linked to Molly?

·        Why does Seawoll dislike Nightingale so viscerally?

·        Did Peter really drop architecture because of his draughtsmanship or was it something else? Is it related to why his chemistry teacher wrote that letter to the newspaper?

·        How active is the ex-wizard grapevine, really? Is the FM connected to it at all?

·        What was the Faceless Man actually planning on doing with his Crossrail lair? Why build it so close to the Folly?

·        What happens if one river tries to userp, unseat or in any way properly fight another? Are the results ‘mythic’?

·        Was Emma Wall really a waste of space? As a character she is a bit of a smoking gun - red herring, or something else? She was living next door to our two, and *in* one of the flats where… stuff was being put. Any happily waltzed out on d-day. Peter never really got a chance to speak to her - but Lesley did, and was the one to dismiss her from suspicion. Which is suspicious (to me)!

·        Although we found out after that he’s been around for much longer, Nightingale said that Father Thames was definitely the same person in 1914. So presumably they met then… In what circumstances?

·        Are fae genetically different to other humans? Are they human? What about changelings (like Zoe in FS) - and will she get in contact with Dr Walid? NB: Dr Vaughan is getting some genomes sequenced, so answers to this question may be forthcoming....

·        What did Lesley say to her family about what happened to her face? Do they know about magic?

·        Just how much of an age gap is there between Peter’s parents?

·        Why did the Virtuous Men blame the British for Ettersberg? What was the agreement between them that Nightingale was referring to?

·        Postmartin made a show of wanting to get Peter alone to have a ”big” talk with him. Yet, the discussion we, the readers have witnessed was relatively small. Nightingale only arrived to The Eagle and the Child an hour later. What was said between Postmartin and Peter in the meantime?

·        Peter’s narration at certain points (like Chapter 14 in Moon Over Soho) waivers between past and present tense, and he is occasionally referring to events in (presumably) later books. Just what point in the future is Peter actually narrating these books?

·        When Nightingale got an infection in MoS, how did Walid know? Did Molly phone him and do her Nightingale’s being an idiot silence, or was he just visiting anyway?

·        What does Molly do on her days off?

·        When Nightingale doesn’t go to Peter’s parents’ for Christmas, did his not wanting to leave Molly excuse have any truth to it, or did he just say that so Peter didn’t realise that Nightingale planned to work (and so Peter didn’t feel he should be missing his own Christmas to help)/ he had a reasonable excuse to not go to Peter’s family’s Christmas celebrations?

·        (tongue-in-cheek) What would have happened if Peter and Lesley had given Molly a Heston Blumenthal cookbook?

·        What’s the deal with Lady Helena (and Caroline) - are they connected to Chorley and/or Lesley’s face being healed?

·        What does Caroline want to escape from? What was she doing posing as a cleaning lady at the County Gard offices? 

·        What do the Virginian Gentlemen want, and how connected are they with the American government?

·        What’s their specific definition of a ‘shade’? 

·        When and how did MI5 learn about magic, and do they have any practitioners of their own?

·        Was Christina Chorley a practitioner, possessed, or something else? 

·        Who sold and bought Molly, Foxglove, 'Charlotte' (the Pale Nanny), and 'Alice' (the Pale Lady)? Where were Foxglove, Charlotte, and Alice before they were put in the oubliette and rescued by Woodville-Gentle and then Chorley? Where is the fifth girl who was with them before they were split up?

·        Is it important that Walbrook is also Isis of London? Are there any other Isis-figures in the UK and Europe (aside from Isis who is married to Oxley, and is probably an Isis of Oxford?)

·        Are there any other non-Mama-Thames tidal Rivers? What exactly is Lea’s relationship with Mama Thames, as they see it?

·        What WAS Chorley's master plan, aside from ‘become Merlin, Profit!’?

·        How is the Difference Engine linked to magic, and why? NB: May be answered in ‘False Value’, which is about computing to some degree

·        Who or what is killing talking foxes (as Peter discovers in The Furthest Station)? Why?

#rivers of london #ben aaronovitch #meta #word of god #chekov's garden shed

[iamchrissi]

I’ve read False Value!

Non-spoilery thoughts:

It’s fun, it’s neat, it’s a lot less emotionally taxing then Lies Sleeping. Lot’s of character moments and growth.

And the longer review, FULL SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!

I was admittedly very worried in the first chapter. Peter not being a police officer anymore was a definite possibility after the end of Lies Sleeping, and RoL is one of the few series where I’d really mind if the main character stopped being in the police. It just... it’s not just the supporting cast we’d lose, it’s also so much of the world. It means something to Peter to be a copper, and I was very relieved when it became clear in the second chapter that he’s undercover.

He gets to be very competent at it, too, which I adore, but  even more I adore the scene where he gets out his uniform and metvest in the end because he prefers open, honest police work. Also, Seawoll calling him one of life’s honest coppers was an absolute highlight. I knew you liked him.

It’s definitively a bit of a setting up book. It was necessary, I think, what with Chorley biting it in the last book. Lesley isn’t quite ready to be an evil mastermind just yet, and she does in fact not even appear in this book, which is pretty good on Peter’s mental health, I think.

In fact, Peter is in a much better place emotionally and mentally then he was in Lies Sleeping. He is mentioned to go to therapy, and actually listens to the therapists advice concerning acknowledging emotions. He actually talks to Bev a lot, so much in fact that I’m fairly sure BA read some of our criticism of the last book, and it’s awesome!

I like that they’re mostly but not completely sure that the kids will be normal, I like that it’s twins, I like how comfortably normal all the interaction between Peter and Bev is. Their relationship feels lived in in the best ways, they talk and sometimes disagree and it never feels as though they might break up over something stupid or anything like that. I also very much like the small notes of how Bev and Peter have two good bottles of wine ready at all times for surprise visits of her sisters, and how Peter ceeps candy for Brent. Those things show that it’s not just Bev that gets along with Peter’s family, he also gets along with hers.

Bev also gets to do something on her own this time, too. Taking a great interest in Peter’s fake bosses family, holding court, calling on river connections, writing her phd... I liked the developement she had. I like that she had opinions about Peter’s undercover work, and that she didn’t always agree with him.

Nightingale also seems to be much happier. He’s mentioned to be smiling so often, and he talks about retirement! A retirement spend going through the Black Library (which we got to see!!!) to find out the fates of the prisoners who died, which sounds very grim, but all in all I’m quite sure that he’s going to therapy and it does wonders for him. And his comfort with his reputation was gold.

Guleed’s not in it so much, and I missed her very much in the first half, but what we get in the second half is great. I love her friendship with Peter, and they actually talk about their life! She’s engaged to Michael!!! (I really want to read a whole novella just with the two of them, by the way, doing magic and keeping the peace and meeting the relatives and being in love) I liked how they talked about her meeting his family, too, and how she’s not sure she wants to be in a family for whom her being black is like, a Thing. And then Peter asking if she loves Michael, and her just laughing because Peter does not use the word love. It just... I absolutely believed that they are good friends. It’s so important to me to see strong friendships between characters, and this was an absolute treat.

The others weren’t in it so much. Seawoll, Stephanopoulus, Abigail and all the rest mostly got cameos. Good ones, though. Reynolds got a few appearances, mostly over Skype, which were a treat and make me want that novella right now.

As to the new (and possibly one off) characters:

Stephen and Mrs. Chin were awesome. I adore libraries, so the idea of magical librarians is just... it’s like BA read my mind. Mrs. Chin’s delight at battling Nightingale, and his delight at battling her, were amazing. Also that Stephen and Peter couldn’t help but stare. I’d adore it if they showed up again. Maybe Reynolds can get them to teach her magic? I feel like if she’s the only FBI agent dealing with magical crime, she should get to learn magic too.

Tyrel and Stacy were amazing, too, and I really hope they show up in future books, if only as cameos. I really thought Tyrel would end up being a bad guy on introduction, something about how much he didn’t follow the  company nerd thing I think, but after we met his wife and kids he was just awesome.

Skinner... well, he felt like a typical fictional billionaire. He wasn’t particularly anything to me. Made a decent enough antagonist, but nothing more.

And I’ve got to say I wasn’t sold on Deep Thought at all. Maybe it’s just my absolute disinterest in stories that are about whether or not an AI is evil or nort, but the whole mystery didn’t grip me at all. And the solution didn’t help it much. But at least the Mary Engine is out of play now?

Victor and Everest were nice enough, but I don’t think I’ll miss them if they don’t turn up again.

All in all, I liked it very much, but now I also really want to read the new novellas because I want to get in everyone else’s heads.

#false value #false value spoilers #rivers of london spoilers #rol spoilers #rivers of london #spoilers #rol

[maple-clef]

Lies Sleeping obligatory flail

Well, that was a helluva ride!

Spoilers in review behind cut, obvs.

There’s a fun reference in Lies Sleeping to Sneakers, which happens to be a film I’m fond of. The scene referred to is where Whistler, a blind man, is coaxing Marty to reconstruct his journey in the boot of a car, using audio cues to trace where his kidnappers took him and culminating in a flamingo “cocktail party” by a reservoir which allows them to locate the baddies’ HQ. You should watch the film, it’s pretty great and a lot of fun. I was actually talking about it with my husband the other day, partly because we went past a load of geese at a bird reserve and they sounded like the flamingos, but also because we both reckon it’s a film that has aged well - if you ignore the specifics of the technology side of things. And thematically, it happens to resonate quite strongly with Lies Sleeping, too.

It’s all about power, and who holds it, and what you would do if you could take it: get some lever, some key which gives you access to the reins of power and lets you rewrite the rules. No more secrets, let it all hang loose... You can see how it resonates today in things like Wikileaks, the breakdown of trust between people and their governments and also the populist surge behind Trump and Brexit. People are angry, and they want to burn it all down - the system isn’t working for many, and that anger is exploited in a cynical way by the usual suspects: Farage, Trump, Boris. Entitled types who spin a speech, whip people into a frenzy. They aim to bring down the whole applecart, and ooh - they’ve got a brand new cider press they’ll sell you for the right price. See also: The Big Short etc.

And that’s kinda what Lies Sleeping is about, on one level. It’s about Brexit Britain - the people who insist the country is broken so that they can further break it and re-mould it in a fashion which pleases them, and those who understand that it’s not perfect, it’s often a bit shit, but let’s try and make it better and anyway it’s not a good idea to sink your own liferaft, who are trying to plug the leaks. Peter, Nightingale et al. (law and order, keeping the Queen’s Peace for the benefit of all) are in the latter camp. Chorley is - as we’ve always suspected, I think - a Boris, Bullingdon club figure. While he hides behind the conceit of wanting to make Britain great again, his “romantic” notions of reviving the greats of Arthurian legend to do this turn out to be a lie: he doesn’t really believe it. He just wants power. To make a legend of himself. Lesley does, I think, believe it - she talks in vague but apparently sincere terms about wanting to make the world a better place, in the vein of so many Brexiters. She even echoes the dissatisfaction that many have with London, the idea that the city bleeds the rest of the country dry. Peter denies this, because he’s a staunch Londoner and how dare she (although I’m not sure he really addresses all her grievances). Although in the end, she mostly wants revenge on Punch. She’s hurting and she wants to hurt him.

In Sneakers, Marty’s old friend Cosmo talks the talk about wanting to change the world too, but ends up wanting mostly to turn a profit on anarchy. But their estrangement and the different ways they both feel the other has moved away from their (originally strong) friendship and partnership kind of reflect Peter and Lesley’s arc, too.

Okay, enough about Sneakers. Although you should totally watch it.

I loved the book - it felt really solidly plotted, and there was lots of meaty stuff I’m sure we’ll all be talking about for a while in terms of the Follyverse: the new info on Molly’s background, and her new companion was a particular favourite thing for me. We also get a hint at Guleed levelling up, the Chinatown arrangement (hers and the Folly’s), quite a bit of additional background on the Folly’s history, the pound shop version of the Folly (in the Paternoster Society), *lots* of cool scenes in the proto-London-verse with the old (and new?) Rivers, another Court, this time upstream and oodles of Rivers stuff.

It was really interesting to see how the Folly had expanded by necessity and been brought more firmly into the fold of the Met, operations becoming much more of a team affair. With all those extra Met staff and with the additional help from Doctor Vaughan and Abigail, and more regular Postmartin involvement, Peter and Nightingale (and Guleed, and Carey) get freed up to go and do their action-filled actioning, which I think was part of why there was so much ground covered in this one, and why the pace never felt like it was laggy. The exposition could be farmed out and kind of drip-fed, rather than Peter having to essentially do all the leg-work (which can make pacing difficult in a first-person pov).

I felt that it was a really satisfying story, and that it did a really good job of bringing together lots of threads and characters and themes that have been initiated in the earlier books, and really weaving them together in a meaty and filling way. Like... a Greggs pasty (I’m hungry okay). It was so thorough that it really felt like an end to the story arc that began back in the first book - obviously the Punch/Lesley story bookends things, but it also feels like a definite punctuation in terms of most of the characters’ arcs. I obviously am not hoping it ends here, and don’t think BA has said anything about wrapping up, but it *could* conclude here and it would feel finished, I think.

But there are plenty of unresolved things, too - Peter’s fatherhood (!), what Lesley does/becomes next, and all the possibilities that come from opening the Folly up, with Guleed and Abigail becoming practitioners in their own right. And Peter hints at further recruitment, to aid in his reorganisation efforts and to ensure the SAU can sustain their workload... Nightingale’s retirement plans (!) and new pupils...

I also am keen to see more from the Rivers and explore their weird dual persona/timey wimey stuff, and the High Fae, and what goes on in America (is there a new Yellowstone, now, and what are they like?) and elsewhere in the former colonies... The idea that they’re taking Peter’s lead and developing a network/outreach of their own beyond their watersheds is a fun touch that could be explored further.

So, plenty of exciting possibilities for future installments. Can’t wait!

Other nice touches - the character development for David Carey, the increasingly sympathetic Alexander Seawoll, the way that Peter and Nightingale are developing into more of a partnership as Peter levels up, the character of Nguyễn, Walid and Vaughan’s double act. Guleed and Peter’s banter.

The bonus story from Abigail’s pov was great - I’d be really keen to read more in her ‘voice’.

I’m sure I’ll have plenty more to say when it’s all sunk in, and when I inevitably re-read it, and read everyone else’s reactions and theories on here :)

The only complaint I have relates to the number of typos and errors I kept finding, which made me a little distraught if I’m honest. Partly because I’m a professional proofer/copy-editor and would have probably done it for free once I start seeing this sort of thing it becomes very hard to relax and enjoy the read, and partly because it was *such* a good book that it deserved to be properly shiny and finished off, and why don’t publishers invest in their products you’d think a flagship series like this would warrant it grumble grumble. Sad times. But only a bit.

#rivers of london #lies sleeping #lies sleeping spoilers #ben aaronovitch #flail #meta

[drchiropterajones]

So I just finished Lies Sleeping and on the whole thought it was great! Here are some thoughts, in no particular order!

- I was really expecting Lesley to have a more.... coherent justification for throwing in with the Faceless Man? Like, I don’t think she could have had any train of thought that would have made me think ‘yeah that’s reasonable’, and Peter didn’t exactly sit down to have an indepth chat with her about it. But all she has is “Britain is awful in some nebulous way and we’re going to do a magic thing and that’ll Fix It”? Huh. 

- Kind of meh on the whole ‘we all go to the Spirit Realm and have a big fight between Romans and Vikings’ as a climax. Like... I’m emotionally invested in the Peter/Lesley/Chorley interactions, you don’t have to throw in a battle scene out of the blue to spice things up a bit. Also don’t make me visualise a battle scene with tons of characters without warning, that’s too much mental effort =P (I am being tongue in cheek here, but my point stands) 

- Feeling... really kinda gross about the whole bit with Abigail at the Thames festival and Beverly talking Peter out of intervening or looking in on her.

I mean, come on, she’s what, 15? Peter is a police officer and family friend who took a teenager into an environment that’s expected to contain a ton of sex, on the understanding he would be looking out for her. And we’re expected to think he should be fine with some unknown person of unknown age and intentions possibly having sex with her? 

Like, yeah, she’s very smart and capable, but precocious intelligent teenagers are still teenagers. 

I feel like we’re getting into ‘oh, the age of consent is a silly modern invention, Old Magic doesn’t care about things like that (so you shouldn’t either)’ territory, which is pretty gross.  

- It’s really interesting to see how BIG the Folly and its assorted stuff is getting. This is something that’s been building up for a while, with Peter making the case that the Folly will need to adapt, and it’s finally happening, the Folly is a real department now. 

- There were some... odd contradictory things in this book about Peter’s work-life balance. I mean, on the one hand you’ve got Nightingale’s ‘for it in theory but of course it doesn’t apply to apprentices’ comment, and then on the other hand you have Seawol giving Guleed and Peter the little chat about how mental health is important and macho posturing about taking a teaspoon of cement and pretending you’re fine is really really dumb. 

I mean, that is fairly realistically how a lot of high stress professions do work. (Yes, I have had a boss tell me that mental health was important and I should tell him if I was feeling overwhelmed because he didn’t want me to burn out... and then, five minutes later, tell me that people who didn’t cope with the overtime and long hours ‘are never going to be real vets because they can’t cut it’... gee boss, I feel very able to come to you with my mental health concerns...) 

- I find it interesting how it.... genuinely wasn’t difficult at all to persuade Foxglove over to Peter’s side. I mean, yeah, he was locked up and had nothing else to do, but.... just a smidge of compassion and interest in her and that was it! I think it is kind of a sad comment on Lesley that she never thought to communicate with Foxglove and the other fae, like, at all. 

#Lies Sleeping spoilers #Rivers of London #Lies Sleeping

[themonsterblogofmonsters]

Monsterblog Recommends: Ben Aaronovitch’s Rivers of London Series

Previously - Monsterblog Recommends: The Underworld Film Series

So, I was recommended this series years ago (no joke) but only started reading it a couple of years ago when I spotted the books at the bookstore in my University’s student union. I read the first over a couple of days, and then promptly bought all of the rest. And the comics. 

I love this series a lot.

Rivers of London [a largely spoiler free rec]

[the books and comics as they are so far. I think. there may be more now. Regardless: i love this whole damn series a lot]

1. What is Rivers of London?

Its... part of my brain wants to say “Harry Potter for adults” except its not as like. Sexual and gritty as that would imply. It’s adults with magic, really, what you want once you’ve aged out of Harry Potter (Ha. As if we ever truly do) and want to play with similar ideas in a similar setting but with differing rules. The lives lived are what you’d probably expect of the people involved, just plus magic. There is a system for magic, and negative consequences for overuse of magic, and magic does not get along with technology, but not for the same reasons or in the same way as Harry Potter. It’s set in London and involves solving crimes that involve magic though, so if you want ideas for Auror Harry this is a great one. 

It’s also incredibly funny, beautifully on the nose, and so incredibly British that reading it makes me feel at home in a very particular way.

And I’m British born, raised and still dwelling there.

2. Why I’m Recommending It

[This is Peter and Sahra Guleed. Sahra is great. She doesn’t have magic but magic doesn’t wig her out so she often gets assigned to work with Peter]

It’s good. It’s really damn good. The characters are wonderfully compelling and interesting, and the main character, Peter Grant, police officer and trainee wizard, has a life beyond work which creates a lovingly real feel. Further, being set in London it doesn’t make all the characters white - Peter himself is mixed race, with his mother coming from Sierra Leone. His girlfriend, a minor river goddess, is black, and one of the daughters of Mama Thames. One of the police officers that Peter works with is Muslim; one of the doctors they work with is a Scotsman living in London who converted to Islam.

This book does not fuck around with the level of diversity you can and should expect from London. Not one bit.

Oh, also one of Peter’s superior officers is stated to be a lesbian. This isn’t even danced around, it just is. One of the grandchildren of Mama Thames is also gay as I recall. There’s mixed race relationships and there’s an awesome magic practitioner who we meet and know to be cool and who is eventually revealed to be trans and just.

Do you get it? This is a series with well constructed well told stories - both the primary plot and individual character arcs, as well as coherently building the overarching series plot and the world.

I’m not even kidding it combines aspects of Peter learning from Nightingale with developing the overarching series-plot but also in ways which impact the book-plot. There’s ... not entirely non-human creatures affected by magic which means they can channel more magic than a human without dying but this also means they tend to... be... odd. There’s a magical black mould possessed by a jazz ghost. There’s weird Fae creatures. There’s transforming talking foxes. 

Also there is a dog. His name is Toby. He can detect ghosts.

3. Less Good Things / Trigger Warnings

[the cover of the Cry Fox RoL comic. figured you guys might want a break before I give you shit to worry about]

Uh. Well. The case in the first book is kind of. Horrifying. It involves Punch and Judy and also warping the face in ways that permanently fuck with the bones and one character survives this and yeah. It’s also while this character is possessed so its just uh. Body horror and psychological horror and... a lot of horror.

Further you get things like Molly. Molly, who is lovely. Molly who never speaks. Molly who never so much as opens her mouth until the time that she does and by god you wish she hadn’t oh gods Molly WHY.

It turns out ok but also DEAR GOD MOLLY. 

Less cheerfully... There’s a dryad. Or... tree spirit, lets go with that. And her tree is mutilated. And this affects her human form. If I recall rightly, she dies, because her tree is destroyed. And it’s horrible and horrifying and what’s worse is you can’t do anything and you know this character and she’s sweet as anything and you can’t do anything and Peter cannot do anything and she is there, injured and dying because some bastards just mutilated her goddamn tree and there is nothing you can do.

There’s some mind influencing stuff as well, which is... complicated? Mama Thames for example is the goddess of the lower Thames. She is... magic personified, almost. She says that she was a woman who threw herself off a bridge and in dying and the latent magic of the area she became Mama Thames, but it’s not entirely certain if that’s what happened. But she now is an entity of magic, unaging. And her presence can compel people into her service. Being a goddess, she sees no reason to let them go. She won’t necessarily mistreat them, but they... have a portion of their will taken away and for some of you that may be deeply unnerving. Further, her daughters can do this too, if not to the same extent. 

Uh. Also some mild horror in the form of: overuse of magic can completely fry one’s brain and eventually cause dementia and/or a stroke, due to how it interacts with neurons. This is also why it tends to affect highly complex modern technology, but not older tech (old cars etc.). In order to try to prevent this from happening to Peter, he has periodic brain scans with Dr. Walid, who also has a large number of brain tissue samples from deceased magic practitioners, or those who died as a result of exposure to magic because it interests him to study this phenomenon. 

4. SPOILERS And Further Points

This series will torture you over how much you love a character it will then take away in some fashion or make you distrust.

Also Molly! I love Molly. She’s adorable and you will love her too and her backstory especially as it gets fleshed out is deeply sad-making.

Uh. The story is largely told in first person, which if you find annoying: forewarning. I would say though that the story and world are very compelling and serve to mitigate this issue some. 

Also, the faceless man is a DICK.

5. Further Reading

1. The comics! There’s comics as well, which you can see some of in the first image. They happen between certain stories and end up mildly referenced in some of the books/they reference events in the books, providing context and a sense of a world beyond just what you’re reading at that moment. The art is uhh. Not really much to write home about in my opinion, but it does the job well.

2. THIS FIC. Which is hilarious. The faceless man’s dicking about accidentally sends Peter to the Disc and he has to figure out how to get home - and he doesn’t particularly want to get back via the Ankh.

3. THIS ART by @agarthanguide - she whom I have commissioned before and no doubt will again. She did art of a bunch of the mains from the series and its all lovely. 

#monsterblog recommends #rivers of london

[imgonnabeyourbubblegumwitch]

Lies Sleeping - A Review

Lies sleeping by Ben Aaronovitch 

Chances were I was going to like this book - I liked the rest of the series after all. So how did Lies Sleeping compare?

The spoiler free bit -

This book was one long call back to the first book, the most obvious being the return of Mr Punch (not counting this as a spoiler since its announced in the blurb). As with the previous books I found there was no way I could really follow what was happening - I'm no good at remembering names of people or places and these are often key to "getting" the plot. Not only are you bombarded with people and places and companies and names, so much happens and you aren't sure what's important and what's a random side trip somewhere. I think there are a couple of reasons why that has never bothered me historically with this series and why it didn't bother me this time round.

The first is that the books are still an enjoyable read (even Foxglove Summer) even when I don't have a clue what's going on. Another is that things do make sense in retrospect with a second read, and I really do enjoy reading these books a second, third and even in the case of approximately 60% of the series (skipped Whispers Underground and Foxglove Summer) a fourth time. Four times is by no means a personal record for me rereading, but these books still have a lot of life left in them and I don't see myself getting bored of them anytime soon.

There is another reason why  I tend to give these books a pass at the fact the plot absolutely escapes me, given that this would normally be within my top three complaints (others being boring/unnecessary and/or boringly unnecessary love interest with bonus points for tired clichés applied lazily, and character (lack of)). It only really occurred to me in Lies Sleeping, but the flood of information is (probably) what an investigation is like. A series of events and you have to figure out what's connected and how. Aaronovitch tends to be clever enough with his foreshadowing that I connect enough dots to keep me happy, but the hints are hints enough that I'm never 100% sure of myself so that if I'm right I get to feel smug and if I'm wrong I get to feel delight at being tricked.

An example of this from Lies Sleeping, kept to a spoiler free minimum but expanded below the cut, is the sense that this book was a gamechanger. I thought it would be as such before I'd even read the first sentence: the reintroduction of Mr Punch in the blurb and the fact The Faceless Man was unmasked suggested this book would further change the status quo somehow.

That's probably all I can get away with saying spoiler free so I'll carry on below the cut.

So continued from the point above I knew we'd end on some kind of shift in dynamics. By the time I was approximately two thirds of the way through I had narrowed this guess down to a) Nightingale dying or b) Martin Chorley actually accomplishing what he wanted to do which somehow altered magic's status possibly even bringing it into the public consciousness. What we got, of course was Peter being suspended. I didn't expect it but I didn't feel cheated in any way. And then there was the second game changer - Beverly being pregnant. In retrospect comments about Peter acting as Abby's parent have more weight - at the time I took them to be hinting towards a baby but maybe in a couple of books time. I'm actually really excited about Peter and Beverly having a child because I think it will bring an interesting new dimension to Peter - will he act the same when he has a child to think about? Is he still going to be as reckless? Will magic start to worry him?

And of course there's Lesley.

If I liked the Peter being suspended thing and the baby thing, I loved Lesley shooting Chorley. It's going to add another layer of changed dynamic and world shift. Peter isn't fighting a "Faceless man" (pardon the pun) anymore, someone he doesn't have any particular personal history with other than the two repeatedly trying to outwit and maim each other. Now it's Lesley and that's a whole different kettle of fish. I really like how Lesley's arc mirrors that of Mr Punch. Lesley has always seemed preoccupied with law and seemed more frustrated than Peter whenever she saw someone from the magic-world apparently getting away with crimes, just as Mr Punch was originally fond of the law and order the Romans brought. You could argue that Lesley is now slipping into chaos, however much she believes that she is trying to make things better: shooting Chorley for instance is not something I could see her doing in previous books but it felt right at this point in her journey.

I'm very interested to see what happens next with Lesley and where she's going to go. Did Chorley have something in the pipeline in case the whole Arthurian thing didn't work out, that she'll now take over? Or perhaps she'll go her own way.

One thing is certain: this book felt like the end and a new beginning and I think the series will continue to shift from here. It's not just the big details that have changed: this was the first book where it wasn't just Nightingale and Peter helped somewhat distantly by whichever police were involved in the crime of the day.  With magic seeping into the police as a whole and what with the exchange about other societies not revealing magic between Peter and Nightingale I wonder if we are going to start dealing with magic becoming common knowledge as was my original prediction for the ending of this book.

I'll leave the speculation there - I'd like to re-read Lies Sleeping, and possibly the whole series - before I get into any serious guess work. I'll finish off this review for now with some little things I enjoyed that weren't to do with the ending as well as my one little niggle.

The first thing I really liked was the introduction of Foxglove (which I'm only know realising ties into Foxglove Summer - yeah I'm slow). I didn't really have much to say for the reveal that Molly might be high fae. It didn't annoy or upset me but equally it didn't really interest me. But with the introduction of Foxglove and the links to the Pale Lady, the Pale Nanny and the awful strip club I have changed my mind on this revelation. I really like how threads I thought were finished with come back later on - as confusing and haphazard as the worldbuilding can feel at times, I enjoy when it comes back together and pulls tight. On a more basic level I just really like that Molly has a friend.

I enjoyed the way the book followed a trajectory of Rivers of London, while remaining it's own story. It'd be more precise on this but I'm lending out Rivers of London at the moment so can't check on all the things that felt familiar but the more obvious ones are the back through history to meet Mr Punch ending, the actor's church, Mr Punch being in it at all. As a beginning and an end this provided a nice symmetry.

Nightingale is  my favourite character by a fair amount and so I really enjoyed that we got to see more of him being kickass. I especially enjoyed his command of magic in the interview with Patrick Gale. I mean I enjoy any and all magic Nightingale does, but after seeing his explosive, fighting magic seeing him perform something more subtle was a treat and gives us a better indication of what he really could do if he set his mind to it. Let's all be glad he's on the side of the "good guys". Continuing with the Nightingale is incredibly powerful line, the list of reasons why Nightingale is absent to allow Peter to get into all the dangerous situations is fantastic. One of the problems with having one significantly more powerful character is the well why haven't they just stopped the bad guy already? Nightingale's absences from key moments allowing Peter to get into trouble are noticeable, but they do feel organic enough that though I find it funny I don't find it distracting or unrealistic.  

On the magic front I also enjoyed hearing more about everyone's signares. The first description of Nightingale's as being "as heavy as a mallet and as sharp and as controlled as the point of a needle" was a great description that completely sums up his character, while the later descriptions of it as the precise tick-tock are lovely. Lesley's being a combination of Nightingale's, Chorley's and a cry like a seagull screaming was both hilarious and somehow completely fitting.

On the favourite character front my favourite rivers (plus possible war spirit) are Lady Ty, Effra, Oberon and Ash. I was disappointed to not hear much from Effra, Oberon and Ash therefore (he wasn't even at the Summer Court) but I wasn't surprised either. Can't have everything. I did, however, greatly enjoy the Lady Ty scene where Peter offers her a sacrifice as well as the return of the original Tyburn who I love as much as his modern counterpart.

Continuing with character for a moment is my one niggle with the book. I'm not sure if it was because this book had more continually high stakes, as the team tried to predict and forestall Chorley, but there didn't seem to be as many character moments. As many isn't no, and some were really unexpected but lovely such as Seawoll reminding Peter and Guleed to look out for each other and talk to someone if the pressure gets too much.

I think the main place it was noticeable was the reunion between Nightingale and Peter, or lack thereof. And I know Nightingale isn't the sort of hugging, crying, making a scene sort of guy, and they had other operational priorities at that moment as well as an audience. I wasn't expecting a huge scene at that moment. But information later on in the narrative about what Nightingale had done to try and find Peter would have been fitting in with the character and the time limits the characters have - could have come as an offhand comment from Guleed or someone else during a conversation about work for example. A kind of well we know Nightingale can do a-awesome-thing because he did it while searching for you thing. Or even Nightingale looking tired, Peter commenting on it and someone, probably Guleed or maybe Abdul, answering it was because he'd barely slept while looking for Peter. Nightingale has shown he feels responsible for Peter, so the lack of acknowledgment of the fact Peter was missing for a considerable chunk of time just felt like a missed opportunity to me.

Still it wasn't enough to ruin this book for me by any stretch of the imagination and I'm excited to re-read it and connect all the dots I missed the first time around. A great, read and a solid addition to the series that has me desperate for the next book.

Lies Sleeping: 5/5

#rivers of london #lies sleeping #lies sleeping spoilers #book review