#truths that are sad and necessities that are not his. for the greater good etc etc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

travllingbunny · 4 years

Text

The 100: 7x03 False Gods

Although I liked this episode less than the first two episodes of season 7, which were great, especially 7x02. I quite enjoyed False Gods for what it was. This seems to be an unpopular opinion in the fandom, which mostly hated it for what it wasn’t. And I get it - Bellamy has been missing for almost 3 episodes (even though it’s not even been 2 days since he left Sanctum), Clarke took a back seat here, and the new SciFi Anomaly storyline is far more interesting than the power struggles in Sanctum. Plus the A plot of this episode was problem-of-the-week, another potential nuclear meltdown - of a reactor we didn’t even know about before.

it feels like a setup/breather before we get to the real story. Yes, it's high time the storylines finally converge and Clarke and the others learn that Bellamy and others are missing, and get involved in the Anomaly plot. I guess I’m more patient than most, and it helped that I already knew this would only happen in the next episode.The biggest problem of this episode is probably that it didn’t address what was happening in the other storyline, for the benefit of all the viewers who are watching this weekly, don’t necessarily think about the show’s timeline and aren’t aware of the fact that it’s been a little over one day since Bellamy, Octavia, Echo and Gabriel went to research the Anomaly Stone, that there’s absolutely nothing surprising about the fact they haven’t come back yet (people were absent for similar periods of time in season 6 even when they went to a less distant location), that there is no reason whatsoever for Clarke and others to think that there are any other threats on the moon or any other humans outside Sanctum, and that there are no radio signals or mobile phones they could use to call them before they get back. And that, if she doesn’t have reasons to think Bellamy is in danger, it’s not OOC at all for Clarke to not be whining about the fact that he left with his girlfriend, his sister and Gabriel to do research instead of stay and help her as a co-leader in Sanctum, while she is also grieving her mom... Actually, you know what, I do have a problem with people criticizing Clarke for that. But I do see why a mention would help the viewers get a sense of coherence, that both this and the previous episode belong to the same story.

But at the same time, this episode delivered some of the things many fans have been saying they wanted to see: it was focused on the characters who have been there from season 1, Raven and Murphy (and Emori, who has been there since season 2 and has had the most long-lasting relationship in the show), it gave Raven an arc and character development and put her in the situation to make “impossible choices” and understand how Clarke has felt so many times (something that many were asking for after her season 6 characterization), it, put an end to Madi being a Commander, and let Clarke grieve for the loss of her mother for another episode.

Raven's storyline was still really engaging and the scenes in the reactor intense. And damn it, I liked Hatch, even though he was in just two episodes and a few scenes. He stole the show and made me really sad when I realized he was definitely doomed. I knew from the trailer that Nikki would beat the crap out of Raven, but I didn't know why. A lot of people thought Nikki would just be a straight-up villain like McCreary, but instead, she's given a good reason to feel the way she does. And it was high time the show addressed the fact that the Eligius prisoners are looked down on as second class people or barely people. Sure, they are murderers and thieves and not nice people, but that doesn’t make it OK to see them as barely human, as Eligius Corporation did when they were going to leave them to die as expendable.

This is probably leading to the friendship between Raven and Clarke getting stronger again. Other things this episode seemed to be setting up:

future conflicts in Sanctum: SheidhedaRussell (SheidRussell? RussellHeda?) getting more control, while Clarke and others have no idea about who he really is, while the Eligius prisoners are going to be led by a very angry Nikki;

Clarke has a continuation of her story from 7x01 and gets a kind of closure to her grief over her mother. She gets to say that she cannot lose anyone else, a very obvious setup for learning about Bellamy’s (and others’) disappearance. At first, this made me roll my eyes a little bit - it’s not like this is a new motivation for Clarke. She is always trying to save her people, and anyone who isn’t aware how important Bellamy is to her, has not been paying attention. But then it struck me - the show was doing extra work to set up Clarke being ready to leave Madi in Sanctum without looking like a ‘bad mother’ - and for that purpose, she now 1) knows Madi is not a Heda anymore and can breathe a sign of relief that Madi can be a normal kid now, 2) has no idea about Sheidheda, and 3) has started to trust Gaia enough as someone who could take care of Madi.

This time it’s Luisa's voice saying "Previously". It looks like they're having a different cast member say it at the start of each episode (Eliza in 7x01, Marie in 7x02).

James wasn’t losing any time, did he. It’s been just a little over a day since they came from the ship, and he’s already hooking up with a girl from Sanctum. And the show really did the horror trope of a couple that goes to a secluded place to hook up and dies.

There is a nuclear reactor in Sanctum? We go to another planet moon, and again the same problems, just as Indra said.

The opening titles ended with a new shot of the mansion and the grave next to it - this is presumably what Abby’s grave will look in the future. At the moment, it’s a heap of rocks with flowers over them. (Maybe it's meant to be Kane's, too - they don't have either of their bodies, though Abby did die on Sanctum and they could at least bury her clothes.) Contrary to what many fans thought, Clarke burying Jake’s ring was not Abby’s “funeral” - the funeral had already been held, so the answer to the often asked question “why weren’t Madi, Raven, Jackson, Murphy etc. there", is - they were, when the funeral was held. Clarke just went later, alone, to bury the ring, the remembrance of both her parents. With the grave being so close to the mansion, Gaia saw Clarke coming to bury the ring and then came to talk and bury the Flame.

It’s good that Clarke has another confidante/budding friendship, someone to talk to in her increasingly small circle. But I’m not sure that Clarke and Gaia managed to connect that much over grief - because losing a parent and losing your religion are very different kinds of loss. Clarke doesn’t even have a religion and doesn’t have that kind of experience.

I love the way the show acknowledged that everyone knows Clarke will always be the first one to risk her life to save everyone - and Murphy knows it. But the plot mechanics ket Clarke away from this storyline (because Murphy and Emori had have it) - Indra said Calrke had her hands full with Russell’s execution, even though it wasn’t clear why she’d have to be the one to organize it (especially since Indra herself seems to be capable of dealing with the politics) and Clarke didn’t look too busy the rest of the episode.

I’m glad we’re done with the plot of Madi being Heda or having to pretend to be Heda. Although I’m sure this will haunt her still, because she has memories of other Commanders - including Becca and Sheidheda, and she may find it the easiest to recognize SH, because she knows him better than anyone.

I completely understand why Clarke wasn’t going to let Madi order Wonkru members to perform such a dangerous task - she doesn’t want to let Madi feel responsible for sending people to their deaths, feel the same guilt she did, but at an even younger age.

Gaia telling the truth both was and wasn’t the right thing to do - morally right, but with potentially terrible consequences, if no welders had been found. Here’s a song for her by one of my favorite bands. On the other hand, Raven lied to people in the name of necessity and the greater good of them all, and achieved her goal but ended up sending people to their deaths, and felt the consequences of lying.

One revelation I really liked is that the guy from Sangedakru thinks of the infamous Dark Commander as “Sangedakru’s greatest champion”. That feels a lot more realistic than the idea that all Grounders hate him and think of him as a monster - even though their culture is based on war and killing, and we’ve seen other Grounder leaders (Queen Nia) be just as ruthless. Sheidheda being from another clan helps makes sense of Indra’s story from 6x13 of the time SH “took Trikru” and was going from village to village and killing everyone who refused to kneel. I’ve been wondering for a long time what exactly Heda were commanding before Lexa united the clans. I suppose they were trying to command, but clans were still divided and preferred Hedas from their own. And it seems that Sheidheda was also trying to ‘unite’ the clans, but not by negotiations! Of course he is considered a monster by people from all the other clans, whom he was killing and torturing and trying to conquer, but is still remembered as a hero by his own clan. Of course. That’s how it usually goes.

Small moments of Sheidheda enjoying the fact he’s corporeal again - from touching his own arms to eating a cookie - are a nice touch.

I like the fact that Sheidheda is smart and much sneakier than the pompous Russell was. He had to be smart to be able to manipulate the AI in the way no other Commander could, not even Becca, its creator, ti isolate the other Commanders, get control of Madi, and later download himself to Russell’s mind drive. SH was also using the captivity to read some of the books he’s found and apparently gain some technical knowledge about Sanctum,

Delilah’s parents are finally back. I don’t think we had seen them since they killed Priya. And Trey (the annoying “adjustor” who was brainwashing Jordan) can go f(ck himself. Really? Blaming Delilah’s parents for avenging her death?

I’m still unsure where exactly the show is going with Jordan. His brainwashing will have to be addressed at some point. It may not have been fully successful - he doesn’t think of the Primes as gods - but it was sure enough for him to stop despising them as murderers and to start believing their BS (and even to form some sort of attachment to Priya). If he weren’t brainwashed, he’d be spending time with Delilah’s grieving parents, rather than the people who worship her murderers. Right now, the show is playing it ambiguously, so some people may even forget about brainwashing and just see Jordan as a gullible naive guy (which he is, of course, he grew up just interacting with his parents) or as Jordan sees himself, as a moral compass/substitute for his father. Someone should tell him that Monty was never naive and knew when it was necessary to fight and kill, even though he hated it and tried to avoid it. Maybe realizing that he’s been manipulated by the Devout and by SH will be a wake-up call.

Jackson has had more character focus in S7 than he had for seasons - the mild doctor now wants revenge for his mentor-mother figure. Good to see more focus on his and Miller’s relationship, including their arguments. What Jackson said about Miller seems to have hurt Miller, who’s still feeling guilty for his role in the Blodreina regime. Maybe this Mackson disagreement contributes to Miller deciding to leave, to prove something to himself, and save Bellamy this time, since he didn’t do it in season 5.

Memori continue to be adorable. and we learn that Raven having no respect for her friends’ privacy is a recurring thing. Another snippet about the life on the Ring.

There was one line that didn’t make sense to me. Raven to Murphy: “Go do your job, be Emori’s moral anchor”. What?! Isn’t it usually the exact opposite?

Speaking of couples - Hatch called Nikki “Honey bunny”. That has to be a Pulp Fiction reference. Raven got the job done here, but I feel like Hatch’s death will have dire consequences for the possibility of peace in Sanctum. Both because he was the more optimistic and tolerant one, willing to expect good and to try to work to earn respect, and because Nikki is now going to be even angrier and more extreme. And just like we had different views about Sheidheda among the Grounders, here we see different views among prisoners about McCreary - Hatch calls him a jackass he won’t miss, but Nikki thinks he would have fought for the rights and better treatment of the prisoners. (I wonder what any of them have been told about Diyoza.)

“Welcome to the world of grey”

A few more words about Raven’s storyline -

One thing that bothers me about this storyline is the idea that this is the first time Raven is in the "world of grey". I guess the writing staff Murphy doesn't remember that time when she tried to give him to the Grounders to be tortured and killed in Finn's place for a crime Finn committed. She also tried to get Clarke to kill Lexa and start a war over Finn in that same episode, basically to sacrifice a bunch of people for him. There was also that time when she tortured Lincoln with electric shocks to save Finn. Or that time when she was withholding medicine from the dying people, including a dying child, because of rationing. Or the time when she was ready to turn the plug on 283 prisoners in cryo sleep. Or when she gave Echo an OK to kill Shaw, her ally, in season 5.

But all this got forgotten because she's never before had to deal with the consequences of her actions. Lincoln didn't die, the others stopped her from turning over Murphy and Finn gave himself up, Clarke opted to mercy kill Finn and do what's best for everyone instead, Murphy stole the meds and gave them to Abby so the child was given the medicine but died anyway, they didn't have to - and then couldn't - kill the prisoners in their sleep, Echo did not kill Shaw...

There were also plenty of times when Raven gave others the responsibility - like when she decided Clarke needed to make the list of 100 people who'll get to survive Praimfaya in the Arkadia as shelter (while passively aggressively bashing her at the same time, which was weird: "I'm in charge of rationing, but deciding who lives or dies is your specialty"), and then Clarke got blamed for it.U

Now, the writers (going by Jason's recent interview where he said that Raven had never done anything morally wrong in the first 6 seasons) seem to have forgotten about it - which I guess is why they wrote her as a self-righteous moralizer in season 6 - unintentionally making her really hypocritical. Which I hated, because she used to be one of my favorite characters, but became quite hard to like in season 6.

The way I see it, it’s best to ignore ridiculous BTS statements of the writers when those statements don’t match canon. I’m all for “Death of the Author” in that case, at least. If we just ignore it, Raven’t entire arc starts making more sense. Maybe they had some weird idea that they were writing her as the moral compass of the show in season 6 (but people who have acted as a moral compass usually don’t say things like “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life!” and refuse to acknowledge their own mistakes), but I’ve always interpreted Raven’s behavior in S6 as lashing out - she was hurting and lashing out, because she had been betrayed by her substitute mom Abby in the same way and for the same reasons as her real mom; she also felt betrayed by Clarke; and then she lost Shaw, the one person who would have put her first, so she felt she had no one left who would. (Though she did get better later in the season, making up with Abby, acting less judgmental and making up with Clarke. )

This is either the show course-correcting her earlier characterization, or fixing a long-standing flaw - Raven’s tendency to be harsh and judgmental to others, which had already been there before season 6. This was seen in this episode, too, from some of her disparaging comments to Murphy, to her contempt for the Eligius prisoners (not that this isn’t understandable, with the fact that she had been tortured by McCreary’s men).

So this feels like an important step in Raven starting to face the world of grey she often tried to see as black and white, and for once be in a situation where she has, almost directly, caused people’s deaths, by decisions she made on her own.

(The show also seems to be course-correcting a few other things about Raven: she looks more like her old self, she has gotten back some of her snark, and the show is showing her disability more - after having largely ignored it for the last couple of seasons.)

To be fair to Raven, she did not know from the start that she was sending Hatch and others to their deaths. She had assumed at first that the task would be dangerous, but not lethal. When she realized it was, the men were already irradiated, and it was necessary to fix the reactor so it would not kill everyone. The bigger problem was that Raven had lied - because she did not respect these people enough to give them an opportunity to maybe volunteer while knowing what the danger was. I think that Hatch, at least, still would have. He did prove smarter than she thought but realizing what was going on, while she was still lying to them that they weren’t going to die in minutes, and, contrary to what she had assumed - he did still want to fix the reactor, in spite of knowing he’d die, to save someone he loved. Raven also showed a similar disrespect towards Murphy - locking him inside to get the job done. It feels like this is something that has never been fully resolved between them - the fact that Murphy was a POS in season 1 and crippled Raven, but also, that she was fully prepared to give him to the Grounders to be tortured and killed in Finn’s place. I feel like this is going to make her start thinking differently and maybe give people the benefit of a doubt.

I knew Nikki was going to beat the crap out of Raven from the trailer, but I didn’t know what her reasons would be. It felt like Raven herself almost wanted this as punishment, because she felt guilty, and would rather take a beating than comfort (”Don’t touch me!”) And I’m sure Raven can understand how Nikki feels, since she has lost Shaw so recently, and Finn before.

I liked Hatch’s conversation with Murphy and the parallels Murphy could see there - Hatch and Nikki were another Bonnie and Clyde-style thief or rather robber duo.... except it went too far and they became murderers. Which Memori were not... but Murphy was a murderer even in season 1. In season 6, Murphy died and thought he had gone to hell for his sins, so it must have resonated with him when Hatch replied that, no, he wasn’t looking for redemption, because “There is no making up for it”.

Body count: James (RIP to yet another Arker from Wonkru, though we first met him in 6x02), his Sanctum girlfriend, and 4 Eligius prisoners including Hatch (which means that 32 remain).

Rating: 7/10

#the 100 #the 100 7x03 #false gods #the 100 season 7 #raven reyes #john murphy #emori #clarke griffin #gaia kom trikru #sheidheda #jordan green #indra kom trikru

18 notes · View notes

obaewankenope · 5 years

Note

work your sad magic on my fluff headcanons! 1. Azi is responsible for Crowley's current hair. He'd kept it long for a lonnng time and Azi wondered (after some wine) if maybe it was time for a change, and they found some scissors, and then this bouffant happened. Azi is very sorry, and Crowley is very happy. 2. Crowley retains a lot of snake-habits esp. when he's tired/stressed/his brain turns off. Such as hissing/lisping, curling into a ball, taste-smelling etc.

Okay, you’ve got one of these filled for now :)

“To be trustedis a greater compliment than being loved.” - GeorgeMacDonald

When Crowley had been in heaven, his hair had been oneof his most favoured things about his Appearance. The locks rolling down hisback to his hips, curling and bouncing with motion and celestial power. Deep,burning red like some of his most beloved parts of the cosmos.

The fall had dulled the shine, taken much of thecelestial glow from his hair, but the curls remained. Shorter, less beautiful,but still beautiful. Different yet the same. Or the other way around. Like him[1].

Several hundred years and he rarely cut it. Perhapsthree times before the 18th century came and went. Once was out ofnecessity—too much hellfire being tossed around—but the other two were becausehe wanted—needed—a change.

Now, in this twenty-first century, full of a lot morevanity and confusion and self-doubt, Crowley’s hair stands out as a tad bitunusual—especially when he doesn’t bother to pull it back into a bun or braidit or any of the other myriad of ways humans have developed over the ages fortheir hair[2].

One of the styles he often uses is a simple bun,sometimes scraggly as all hell, that pulls enough of his hair back that itdoesn’t get in his way but he still feels like it’s got something to it. Someweight.

People probably don’t even realise how heavy hair is—especially people who are used to longhair and suddenly have it short. It’s very much like having a tonne weighttaken off you and being replaced with a cloud[3].

Back in Rome, Crowley had cut his hair but he hadn’t liked it. It just fit in with the styleof the times. Marked him as Not Briton and thus not a slave—he’d had enough ofthat after one day and he may or may not have caused a lot of suffering tobefall an entire line of Roman leaders for making the mistake.

In the 1970s, he’d cut it to be a little less obviousthat he was Different to the humans, especially since he needed to blend in andnot Stand Out[4]. He’d let it grow outafter and in the mid-90s it was a decent enough length that he quite enjoyedit. Of course, then he was informed he’d be taking the Antichrist to his DesignatedStarting Point on the gameboard called Armageddon and he’d forgotten all abouthis hair for a Good Long While.

Until Aziraphale touches it reverently after imbibingfar too much wine and declares, “it’s time you had a haircut dear” as though itwas the most normal thing to declare when neck-deep in your cups and half-fondlingyour demonic not-friend friend without any awareness of what said fondling was doing to said not friend demon friend.

This is how Crowley finds himself sat on a ricketystool—knees bent at odd angles so his feet can perch on the cross beam on thebottom of the stool legs, head back, shoulders taut—while an angel runs his fingersthrough red locks and hums appreciatively.

In short: it’s sheer fucking agony.

“You really ought to take better care of your hair,Crowley, it’s far too lovely to—to—be—left to get all tangled like this,”Aziraphale says, tripping over words because of his state of inebriation and nothingelse. Obviously.

Crowley wants to reach out and touch the angel whenAziraphale comes to stand in front of him but the demon keeps his fingers to himself and firmlycontrols his reactions. He may be drunk as all hell himself but he’ll be blessed if he fucks up now just for afew seconds of gratification.

“Been a rough few weeks, angel,” Crowley sighs, unableto stop himself from leaning into the touch of Aziraphale’s hand on his templewhen the angel touches the hair there with a gentle grace. “You’d be a littlebedraggled yourself in my place.”

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale disagrees, smiling, “I’d be anabsolute mess—a ‘hot mess’ as the kids say, right?”

No. No that is notright but Crowley doesn’t correct the angel, too distracted by the softness inthose angelic eyes affixed to the demon. “Something like that, yeah.”

It’s no wonder at all that Crowley agrees to letAziraphale cut his hair and doesn’t even complain about it—well, not muchanyway, he has to complain; it’s what he does—afterthe angel has given him an absolutely idioticcut that works for him only because Crowley has one of Those Faces.

“I am sorry,” Aziraphale says for what is probably thetwentieth time in as many minutes and Crowley waves him off.

“It’s fine, angel,” he says, turning his head left andright to look at the style from both angles. “This is—yeah—not—not bad.”

“Oh! Wonderful!” Aziraphale exclaims, clapping hishands together, forgetting entirely that he’s holding a pair of scissors thatdon’t impale his hands only because Crowley doesn’t want them to. “I really wasworried you wouldn’t like it!”

Crowley has no way to explain to Aziraphale that evenif the angel had made him bald hewouldn’t have said he disliked it without sounding Supremely Pathetic And Besottedand revealing far too muchat an inconvenient time. Instead, the demon miracles the scissors into his ownhands and gives Aziraphale a smirk. “My turn to return the favour,” he jokes,snipping with the scissors in the air.

Aziraphale instantly backs away with his nervousno-thank-you-very-much-I’d-rather-not smile and Crowley laughs.

“I’m only joking, angel,” he says, banishing thescissors away to wherever. “Your hairsuits you just fine.”

[1]No matter how much Crowley may argue to the counter, he is—and always has been—fundamentallythe same person whether he is Archangel or Fallen. It is revealed in the wayshe refuses to leave children to suffer, injuries to fester, and death to happenunless it’s Deserved or Entirely Necessary. Yes, he is only onedemon-eternal-being and thus cannot prevent all the suffering and pain anddeath there is, but—and this is the most important part—he tries. Oh, how he tries.

[2]Haircare—or hairdressing, as it is known—is something humanity developed thousandsof years ago, with Greek writers mentioning the habit of hairdressers. In someunabridged versions of Aristophanes works, hairdressers are referred to as both‘blessings’ and ‘nightmares incarnate’, likely owing to the tendency of ahairdresser to either be the nicest person on the planet or someone who likelyneeds to be strangled with a hair extension. Those specific works ofAristophanes are not to be found bythe common websearcher or archive-hunter; indeed, they can be found only in Aziraphale’s shop on the thirdshelf from the bottom of the first aisle of shelves on the right of the door.But that’s not a hint to go looking. The Principality is very protective of hisbooks, even the ones documenting HairdressersFrom Hell (published 1902 by anonymous). He will hurt you.

[3]This metaphor comes from the author’s own experiences with long ass hair thatis just Too Long To Be Practical and thus was cut short in a rebellious act ofFuck You Mum and turned out rather well in the long run.

[4]Ostensibly, Crowley argued that it was to be better at demoning but the truthwas so he would be less obvious to any demons in the area and also—mostly actually—because he had to reportregularly to hell in the 1970s and 1980s and he wanted to spice it up a littleconsidering the last time they’d seen him he’d had… well… sideburns.

#Good Omens #GOmens #Good Omens fic #Aziraphale #Crowley #Ineffable husbands #my writing #mothfluff #Kat answers #People talk to me!!!

51 notes · View notes

keptforlater · 3 years

Text

200523 | #forsaken-carnival-grounds

location: outskirts of town.

( CONTINUED FROM: CLUB VORTEX )

CT:

𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙀𝘿 ˟ PRIOR TO MATING &&. NESTING SEASON ; TW! GORE, BLOOD, TORTURE, MURDER, ETC. just to be safe

a near crack in the plan, a slip of the tongue, a ‘you’re serious’ could’ve meant the end of his plans, the close to a night, and carter would’ve called it quits just like that. his need for control is as overbearing as his blood lust and so he couldn’t run the risk of kaleb changing things too much. the smaller details were his to bear, transportation, tools, even down to lighting because carter’s not one to waste any chance for a show. he’d joked about it not too long ago when bambi was with them too, an innocent connotation twisted and contorted now to match the ‘show’ developing in front of him. without him to distract her, the woman he’d been flirting with is the first to grow weary. a human’s sense of survival is severely lacking if this is the basis on which he has to go off — really, how does one only begin to feel unsure when they’ve already drove minutes deep into unknown territory?

but she’s easy to lure back into a state of lust and it’s goddamn laughable. she’s practically begging for it, but they have different happy endings in mind and it shows in the way carter reaches for a ball gag and blindfold, tossing the same items into kaleb’s lap with a grin. the look in his eyes asking the gamma to trust him but when they’re this far along, carter’s at least sure he could catch kaleb’s partner no problem should one arise.

it must be good timing on the gamma’s part to have caught him on his way out tonight instead of days before when he’d gone through the measures of getting every small detail out of the way so he could have fun. leading the group through the strip of woods less traveled, less tracks to trace back to them, everything is just where he’d left it and the wood boards are what he looks forward to the most, nodding his head for kaleb to follow his lead once more. rusted metal locked around their wrists and ankles, he grabs the leather bag between the large displays, taking out a roll of knives in matching material, too new to be considered his, just like the clothes they stopped to ‘borrow’ for kaleb to wear. “i’ll let you decide, do you want them to watch?”

KB: calming someone down had never been his strong suit. there was always too much energy in him at even the worst times, and perhaps there was merit in always having an innately cheerful demeanor. it came so easily, the way he spoke to the woman, and how for the moment, he found himself distracted by her presence. the wistful sigh that escaped him right before he joined the others in the woods found itself buried in the night ambience; the crickets and other nocturnal animals. if only he knew what carter had planned, because this was clearly not his first rodeo. at the very least, that part was intriguing. he even got a new set of clothes. just how long and how often had their beta been doing this for?

kaleb simply happened to be a goddamn variable in it. but he couldn’t help his jump of excitement when the women were bound and gagged. “not that i didn’t have faith in ya, but ya really had me goin’ there.” sending a two-finger salute of acknowledgement, he followed carter more freely with the woman in tow. “why not?” looking at their surroundings, how far away they were to human and wolf habitation, along with how much detail carter put into this, screaming wouldn’t be an issue. after all, he was the type to bask in the cries. “do i get a pick o’ knives, too?” the thought of carving into human flesh in much the same way he did a slab of beef, cooked so intricately with just the right seasoning, couldn’t leave his mind quite so easily. “say, ya don’t think we could cook ‘em, do ya? i know my way around a blade and flame.”

CT: unfurling the knife set, he hands it to kaleb with a grin, bowing slightly at the waist just for the theatrics. “that’s the whole point of it, ya’no. the faces you made are too priceless. i can’t believe they were stupid enough to not notice. isn’t it sad? women this easy. men too. such a waste.” of what, he doesn’t say, doesn’t care to narrow it down, because, truth be told, he could think of a few times some wolves have been just as eager, just as desperate. it really is fascinating how people act with liquid courage freeing their pathetic inhibitions. luckily, there’s a fold up table not too far away. one half is unstable, doesn’t want to stay locked in place and so carter lodges it into the ground, fist hammering the side down and he shrugs looking at the slanted surface. it’ll have to do. of all the things he forgot, he didn’t think much of a place to set the knives down. by luck, he happened to grab those too and it’s practically kismet. kaleb oughta feel lucky. knives seemed more his style than carter’s, even as he spins his own pocket knife in one hand.

gesturing for kaleb to set the knives down on the table, he walks over to the woman he’d accompanied earlier, grasping her face as he slid the pocket knife along the side of her face, hushing her as she begins to whimper and plea to be let go, for this joke to be over. edge of the blade cutting the blindfold off, he watches as it falls slowly, as it gives way to bleary eyes, her sniffling matching the fall of tears onto his hand, and he squeezes her cheeks more, forces her to look at him. “do i look like i’m joking?” his gaze softens after, directed mostly towards kaleb as he lets go, haphazardly cutting her cheek with the pocket knife before he walks back over towards the gamma. “i do feel hungry... i’ll leave that to you. in fact, should we start the fire already, sparky? you seem rarin’ to go. ‘sides, it’s been a while since i saw you kill a female human. the screams are so shrill, so funny.”

KB: impatiently being a temporary table, he raised a brow at the beta. it only made him more curious over his experience with this, what made him start, and what his favorite thing about this was. if it wasn’t already obvious, prolonged torture was his own, but it wasn’t as if he could do it regularly. everything was always a life or death situation; either they die or he does. there was a sense of freedom in this, and he couldn’t be thanking carter just yet—not when all they did thus far was kidnap them. “if yer in for a monologue, might as well give me yer life story, beta. dun’ half-ass it.” it was amusing how carter had every single thing ready, meticulously at that, yet it was a fold up table that nearly bested the beta.

as soon as he placed the knives set down—unsure why they even needed the table now—he picked out a carver knife; perfect for cutting meat cleanly. kaleb’s brunette was starting to squirm. well, more than usual, that is, to which he kicked and grinded his covered soles on her moving feet. “shut up, will ya? i’m tryna watch.” unfortunately, he missed the cut, but bore witness to the blood flowing out of the woman's cheek. “lame. thought for sure you’d cut her lips off.” his brunette was crying, drool going down her chin from the ball-gag, causing him to roll his eyes in annoyance. if they were in for both bloody murder and a home cooked meal, then it was going to take a while. “okay so,” he crouched down to the woman’s eye-level—expression more contemplative than stereotypically ’psychomaniac’—but directed his next question to the wolf. “how do you like your human?”

CT: "you? making fun of how much i'm talkin? that's rich comin' from you. what do ya need my life story for?" he would've continued, would've pointed out they were both born to the pack without much of an age difference but it still meant carter had this particular secret and that kaleb is the first to know that isn't out of necessity.

chuckling, carter shrugs, takes a few steps back from his 'partner' for the evening and looks over to kaleb as he crosses his arms. " 'm not as neat as you're planning to be with whatever skinning and filleting you've got over there. i'm more into bitin'. i thought you'd be one that knew that by now."

he barely remembers her name by now, something beginning with an 'a' and he tries his best to remember, thinks she seems the type to cower more when her name is said but nothing comes to mind and he throws his knife right next to her ear, another scratch just to taunt her. "chef's choice, how 'bout that? hell, raw is good with me too. that first bite, mm," he wets his lips, purposely lifting a brow at— ah, there we go, it was— ahreum. "how long has it been for you? got a favorite part?"

KB: “Well, ain’t this a bondin’ experience?” He listlessly waved his knife around as he spoke. “Plus, the more you talk, the greater the anticipation these two have.” Both women visibly flinched at his gesturing, causing him to put a firm hand on his brunette’s shoulder. “As well as my own.” Her eyes were blown wide as the last of her tears slid down her cheeks. Shock, fear, and a whole lot of adrenaline tended to overpower the feeling of helplessness. The alcohol probably wore off now as well, and they were dehydrated. “I want to see how you kill.”

Kaleb forewent his contemplation and properly looked over the woman. His eyes took in every inch of exposed skin before pulling out a second knife, a chef’s knife. “Got ahead of myself,” he said with almost a trance-like lull in his tone. “Can’t do a thing if they’re clothed.” The gamma cut the silver sequin fabric from the collarbones all the way to the thigh, except the woman kept moving and he cut her stomach in the process. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re a lawful evil.” As if by some stroke of routine, he started making markers with shallow cuts. They were primarily the joints, such as the knees and elbows, but then he moved onto the torso. Miss Brunette, whose name he had forever forgotten now, continued to wail and wiggle around in a futile attempt at avoiding this. “Relax, it ain’t even that bad yet.”

“Chef’s choice, how posh,” he snorted. Whatever trance he was in had cut its chord, and he was back to the juxtaposition that was their friendly banter to the horrifying beautiful degree of murder. “Yaknow, if ya want it raw, ya coulda jus’ ate ‘em as a wolf. These knives are beggin’ to be used otherwise.” He leaned over to lick the accidental cut on brunette’s stomach before it dried. “Guess ya got a thing for knife play.” Raising himself, he smirked at Carter. “Few months. Pretty sure I ate someone’s dick once. Ain’t that great, really. So prob...” he gripped the woman’s left leg, “this. ‘Cause they’ll still be alive, but can’t run away and they can have some, too.”

CT: "yeah? you actually wanna hear me talkin' instead of their screamin'? damn, i'm honored. you must like my voice that much," he chuckles. "mm, you wanna talk about anticipation?" tongue brushing over the tip of his front teeth, he lets his canines develop more, wicked grin on his lips as he walks back over to ahreum. knowing their names made it more sentimental, he admits, but isn't it cruel that he knew a name, learned what little he did earlier in the night, and didn't doesn't care for their humanity, let alone whatever he had as a wolf. funny that they call it humanity when he's seen them turn on each other just as much, whether it was in person or on the news. what's so damn great about humanity?

he could sense the begging coming, watched the way her chest rose and fell with her crying, and he cooed at her, hushing her as he pulled the knife out, the blade pressing into her side as he rested said hand on her hip. "how i kill? you gonna watch while strippin' yours down? you seem pretty busy," carter jokes, glancing over at how loud kaleb's is getting with a raised brow. "you've got her pretty excited over there."

hearing how loud kaleb's brunette is makes him bored of his own rather quickly, hand swift to move and the blade tucked underneath her shirt, dull side against fabric as skin is cut with each back and forth motion. with an accentuated 'oops' he turns the knife around, cutting through the shirt before he stabs the knife above her shoulder, angled low so that it digs into part of her shoulder, the cut superficial but enough to streak blood down over her collarbone so he can tear at the skirt. "aw, you gave it away, kay. damn, wanted to see their faces when we shifted. think they believe ya?" snorting at the joke, he turns away, arms crossed as he watches kaleb. "i think you're the one into knife play. 'course you've eaten dick. but yeah, leg meat is pretty good... they seem pretty lean though. what do ya think?"

KB: “Can’t stand someone wantin’ ta give ya center stage or what?” He initially piped in thinking Carter wanted to say more on his sadistic side, so he didn’t expect to explain it. Nevertheless, he was sort of preoccupied by the familiar smell of blood in the air now. It was rich with iron, but not enough had spilled for much of a visible reaction. He shrugged. “Not my fault yer takin’ an eternity over there.” He cut the rest of the clothing off the woman’s body and threw them in a pile off to the side. There didn’t seem to be any flammable items around them otherwise, so this would have to do. “Ya think? They taste better when they’re excited. Keeps the blood flowin’.”

Even with most of his attention on his own person, he made sure to glance over at Carter every now and then. Kaleb couldn’t help but smile at the more deliberate cut now. It certainly wouldn’t be his first choice, but neither was the cheek cut. Just before he stood up, he cut two lines from each shoulder to intersect at her breastbone. It was deep enough to trickle out blood, but shallow enough not to pour out haphazardly. He was rather meticulous with his meats. “Don’t think they do,” he reckoned as he pulled his lighter out. “Prob’ly thinkin’ we woulda done it by now if we were.” He flickered it listlessly at first, then finally lit the pile of clothing from the cotton underwear. “Yer right,” he raised the knife only to catch the drip, “knife play’s pretty sweet.” Humming along as he strolled past Carter and to the table, he made the exchange for the initial carver knife. “Yer the one who picked ‘em. I assume ya only take one at a time anyways. Ya usually full after just one?”

CT: "come on, you know i don't dislike attention but i like givin' it to ya more. you've always made such nice sounds when i give ya more attention," carter teases, a hint of a grin playing on his lips as he gives ahreum a look-over. "an eternity huh? sorry, guess i'm more into you right now than her. take it as a compliment. but alright, i can take a hint." the cleaver in the set of knives isn't as substantial as he'd like but it'll do. kaleb said something about making it so they can't run away but he'd be damned if that isn't his favorite part, sighing under his breath as he ran his fingers over the back edge.

he hadn't lied though— he is, quite easily at that, more interested in kaleb than the female human in front of him and he realizes it must be because she's too quiet or because his anger is tempered by the gamma's presence. huh, imagine that. a calculation he hadn't even thought to consider plagues him now. a slight flaw in the plan but nothing he minded, nothing he couldn't resolve by reminding himself of how she thought she could touch him so freely, how mindless it felt to deceive both females. his hatred for humans should be groundless and yet the rage consumed him— a mislabel really, when it's pure bloodlust in the end.

turning the handle of the cleaver over a few times in hand, the growl he lets out is louder, more feral than intended, when metal cleanly lodges just above her left wrist. in the end, he did want her to be able to run. for now, he'd let her bleed, let her think maybe she could get away in the end as long as she had her legs. he wanted to see that naivete fade away, bit by bit, until her eyes reflected the true nature of humans. the darkness, the vacancy, the fake claims of a soul with pity and mercy. everyone's in it for themselves in the end. hell, maybe he could get her to turn on her friend.

"another time," he suggests, wanting to gauge kaleb's interest in this again. it's a new experience for him, sure, but it brings a freshness to it that he'd been lacking lately, excitement that his last few kills couldn't bring and thus he kept going out more and more. "nah, picked these two 'cause i wasn't sure you'd go along with it at first. 'sides, i told you, your reactions were ace. imagine, wanting to fuck these humans when they'd probably cry the moment either of us got rough. so fragile aren't they?" all the more fun to shatter and break.

KB: "Aww, well aren't you sweet?" He pursed his lips, teasing the beta in the small way he could at the moment. "Am I that good to eat?" His eyes shone cerise at that; brighter, perhaps. The implication that Carter would actually eat him slipped from his mind's directory as he said it. But wouldn't it be one helluva way to go? Kaleb was getting more impatient as the seconds grew to minutes, but at least the beta was getting to it already. The fire that raged near his brunette kept his breathing a little short, and attention divided, however. His fingers clawed over his clothed thighs.

Before he knew it, he was slicing the brunette's right middle finger off. Holding it by the end of the carver, he licked off the blood that started to spill more freely. It was like a snack, a little flavor to the meat itself. Raw meat always tasted better as a wolf--human form far too used to the cooked and seasoned now. He was closer to the fire now, at least, and sweat--whether due to the external heat or the internal one--started sticking the shirt's fabric onto his skin. Tilting his head at Carter in question, however, he dragged the finger over his lips in brief thought. "They really are," partially lidded eyes gazed over both humans now, then over to Carter. "After havin' fucked you, why'd anyone ever want them anyways? They're missin' out." Kaleb ignored the screams that only got louder, but he knew humans wouldn't pass out in shock from that. At least, he hoped this one wouldn't. That wouldn't be any fun.

CT: immediately narrowing his eyes at kaleb, he stifles a snort, debating following through on that question and reminding kaleb that he shouldn't bite off more than he can chew. so many possibilities, not enough time. literally. if they waste too much, sunrise will come in no time and it's a hell of a lot more difficult to deal with disposing of the bodies then. speaking of eating, it's an easier route to go but he doubts he and kaleb would wanna go through that much at once.

he's not one to bother much with a human hand. so much bone and cartilage but watching kaleb indulge in the blood from a single finger— he just might reconsider. recovering from the shock, the human he'd focused on screams with kay's and carter keeps his focus on the gamma, unable to look away from how he drags the cut finger across plush tiers. "what a messy eater," carter grins, taking strides closer to kaleb and pulling the gamma close by the nape of his neck, staring into cerise that could compete with the flames of the fire, the blood that carter licks clean from supple lips. "get on with it. if you're really planning on cooking, you make me starve any longer, i might actually go eat you up instead." grin widening, he tightens his grip around the back of kaleb's neck. "though you might like that, wouldn't ya?"

KB: Sometimes things just get better and better. There's a part of him that wonders whether it's temporary and exceptionally fleeting, while the rest of him longs for it to continue. That it can be prolonged. Such as this, when Carter grins down at him and holds him by the neck, he wants to have him instead. Granted, he'd never have sex with a human anyway, so there really isn't a choice to be made. "Mhmm, yes, master." He says it in such a loving manner that he thinks he's just too into it now.

Kaleb's pulling the brunette back from her pathetic attempt at crawling away when Carter speaks again. "Oh, Carter, don't threaten me with a good time!" He exclaims with a grin that hurts his cheekbones. But yes, he'll admit that he's been prolonging this as well and heightens his resolve. "Damn right I would," he says finally before assuring his cuts on the brunette's every joints stay clean—her wrists, elbows, ankles, knees, and shoulders. They cut deeper than before, following the shallow ones he left earlier as the fire continues to seep into his skin; rousing him so uncomfortably in his pants. Why is this his attire anyway?

CT: the term paired with the compliance warms carter more than the fire and he's chuckling lowly, breath becoming ragged when he forces himself to take a step back, allow kaleb the space to continue his own ravaging. as much as he'd enjoy teasing kaleb more, drawn in more by each reaction he gets, whether it's the shock from earlier when they first approached the women or the cheeky exclamations.

returning to ahreum, he practically coos as he pulls her off the board, free of restraints yet blood drips from her wrist, body shuddering in repulsion and likely the loss of blood by now. cupping her cheek, he whispers, "run." she falls to her knees as soon as he lets go and carter looks to kaleb with a devilish grin as she scrambles to her feet, the cries and whimpering making him blissfully sighs, pupils beginning to blow out from the latent satisfaction of an impending chase. "be right back. doubt it'll take long." laughing to himself, the sound melts into a growl as he begins to shift, and it truly isn't long til the shrill screams are heard from the surrounding forest.

KB: When Carter takes off, there's not an ounce of doubt within him that the 'escape' is safety theater. Giving then promptly destroying the hope of a human seems to be an ongoing theme he's quite fond of. He's been the one chased before, by their alpha even, and that was pretty fun. At least, for the minutes it lasted due to his impatience. He just wanted to get on with it, after all. Why wait when it was a mutual desire, right? Kaleb licks up some of the blood that pours over the body, rather certain that the woman's dead now. He kept her alive long enough to only know suffering. Shock can only do so much when all that's intact is her torso. He's done this enough to have a rough estimate of when that happens, so he kills them just before. It's always a pleasure to watch the life die in their eyes, particularly when he's in control of when that occurs.

Though skinning is the more mundane task out of all genuine acts of cooking, he finishes setting aside properly cut meat on the table. If he tries, he can probably set up a few skewers, though wouldn't that take too much time? He's already wasted enough and the growl in his stomach forces his mind elsewhere. Looking over the body—or what's left of it—it's certainly cleaner than he normally allows; perhaps because he's not in his animal. So he shifts then, making the most of his sharper teeth and claws to rip the skin off her lifeless face. 'Tsk, should've removed her hair first. Whatever.'

CT: there's a part of him that wishes he had the patience to let her bleed out while watching kay do the same to her friend, the pace much more accelerated, gorier even, but the smell of fear? fuck, does he love it. the scent of perspiration, the quake in her legs, the scream that's buried in her throat, how she trips over something in her frenzied attempt to escape and is paralyzed as he leans over her. her screams finally fill the night air and they're only cut short by the merciless bite to her neck, to how he tears it from her shoulders, blood covering his muzzle, dripping from his face when he shifts back. the metallic taste lingers after he licks his lips clean and he sighs at the carnage before him. if he didn't want to leave any chance of authorities finding the head, he should bring it back instead of leaving it for other wildlife.

with a sigh, he heaves the lifeless torso over his shoulder, carrying the head by long locks, mindlessly twirling it about. the blood is something he can't help now, likely to be muddied soon anyway. ah, if only it were storming soon, the freedom he could have knowing that. upon his return, he tosses the head into the fire, body thrown down beside it as he looks to kaleb. "and here i thought we were gonna have a proper roast," he chuckles, wiping at his chin only to find more blood.

KB: His eyes narrow at the returning figure. With senses much more prominent in his natural form, there's no doubt about the state of Carter's human, his kill. If ever possible, he'd laugh out loud for seeing them both ripping their head and torsos apart, but he settles for an internal one. Kaleb's quite content with how easy it all is, albeit acknowledging Carter's prepared it all anyway. Perhaps he'd return the favor— that is, if he can get his head on straight and care about not getting caught by authorities as much as the beta seems to. He guesses it's the frequently he does it in, though. Has done it countless times before that he's grown accustomed to the routine.

Nonetheless, the gamma shifts back to his mundane form and spits out an eyeball now too glassy for his mouth. "Are ya really that hungry? Figured you'd eat that one raw otherwise." He points at the headless torso with his chin, dipping in red in a similar fashion, as he ambles closer, throwing his own severed head into the fire. It burns bright and hot, and he can't help the erection now so terribly in display now. It's not like he could jack off in wolf, now could he? But now— "Imma stick 'em on roast then, fine cuts." Through partially lidded eyes, he grabs few slabs of meat off the table and makes his way back to the arousing flame, using leftover knives as makeshift skewers.

CT: “now now, didn’t i say chef’s choice. bad manners to eat before the chef’s finished, right?” then again, he thinks more of the precautions he’s used to taking, how it’s different to cater that to two instead of one. though he doesn’t expect kaleb to resist or protest— too much anyway— if there’s more work to be done than any standard kill, then any kill for some pathetic hunter he comes across. to him, hunters are the most vile and it’s for that exact reason that he does the same. call it petty vengeance, a type of karma he willingly inflicts, or his need to kill hidden with good intentions for the sake of wolf hybrids in general. on a good day, carter calls it fun. on a bad day, he considers it penance for his own shortcomings. even now, he sees fire and thinks of regret instead of power. what some of the others find appealing about it, he doesn’t see but he has his own addictions.

“ooh, an eye.” he clucks his tongue, taking a few steps closer. “not your favorite type of human— forgive the lack of a better word— delicacy?” one aspect of the word’s accurate. they are fragile but the positive connotation tied to the word, definitely not one he’d associate with human. watching as kaleb actually goes through with cooking the meat, he chuckles, realizes they could try taking it back home and goosebumps line his forearm in curiosity, at the excitement, but he has an answer for why he’s never done it, one he ignores now while he waits. only when kaleb has some of the meat roasting does he take the chance to shove the gamma to the ground, unapologetic as he pins him down with a grin, his own cock grazing kaleb’s. “now how will we pass the time...” voice low and tinged with lust— blood lust, carnal lust, similar cravings if he tries hard enough to pass one off with another, he presses his body to theirs, a teasing kiss to let the blood slip from his lips to theirs. “any suggestions?”

#( unfinished )

0 notes

amberjoblog · 5 years

Text

Wives of Warriors...

Not too long ago, I was asked to speak to group of military wives on base. I was surprised by the invitation because my husband had retired quite a while ago.

As I walked into the room that morning and felt the sadness of the women hanging in the air, so many feelings came rushing back to me. The feelings of anxiety, frustration, anger, and helplessness were all there, hovering in the room like a bad storm. The women stared at me, like sad spectators. It was overwhelming and intimidating. What could I possibly say to these women?

Because of my work schedule, I hadn’t given much thought about what I would say or prepared for the intensity of the experience. In truth, if I had given it much thought at all, I would have declined the invitation. I was hardly the exemplary military wife. None of the protocol or staffing decisions made any sense to me, and the lifestyle was maddening.

I did not grown up in a military family or with anyone who was on active duty. I was not prepared for the lifestyle and soon discovered that I had unrealistic expectations, mostly from movies like Top Gun and An Officer and Gentlemen. The reality of it, though, was nothing like the movies.

As I began talking that day, I sensed that many were in need of encouragement and that fluff or fakery were not in order. I decided to put it all out there that day, sharing from my heart, and letting God do HIS work.

I started talking about how difficult it was for me to be a military wife- how much I dreaded the deployments, the anxiety and depression, and the thoughts of divorce, and then I talked about the emotional fall out for my kids. My oldest had become angry, my middle struggled with anxiety, and the youngest had gone completely off the deep end.

The long term deployments had taken its toll on us and anger had become my closest friend. Entire chunks of years were gone from my memory. But what a good face I put on as I dutifully hugged my husband on his way out for the umpteenth time. After all, it was expected. I was told to “be strong” for my soldier and never let him know that I or we were struggling.

As the years rolled by and the deployments continued, we began to count the days to retirement. If we could just make it to retirement, everything would be as it should: our marriage, our children, and our life would be as we dreamed.

And then it happened, my soldier "separated" from the military. The BIG day came with a quick ceremony and send-off. It was depressing, really. For all those years of service, sacrifice, and commitment- he left with a flag and a pin. Ugh.

And then the depressing reality of starting over set it. He was expected to seamlessly transition into a new job, his family, day-to-day activities and leave behind the action, purpose, calling, and comradery. People no longer asked him for battlefield stories, perspective on world events, or speaking engagements like he had done in the past. In the course of a year, his entire life changed.

After I spoke that morning, several women came to me in tears. I scheduled coffee with several and each told me about their loneliness, anger, fear, etc. They were battling depression, struggling with their children, and considering divorce. I saw myself in each of their stories. But, there was something different about their struggle. A sense of serving for a higher purpose or sacrificing for a greater good was gone. The honor in the calling or service to country seemed less important. Something had changed.

Now our soldiers are relegated to the sideline of necessity, not to the warrior calling of every generation. As our culture diminishes the honor of our warriors we are, in a sense, stealing from them. Our soldiers and their families are fighting for our freedom and we are barely paying attention.

In ancient times, soldiers were often chosen and trained from childhood, and this brought esteem and honor to the community and family. They accepted the cost of war, suffered the losses together, and supported each other as needed. Gone are the days when people waited anxiously for the soldiers to return and hosted parties or parades when they did- with pride and relief the community honored these soldiers.

Sure, we give due credit on Memorial Day, Veterans’ Day, and the 4th of July, but what about the other days? Do we often think about and give thanks to our soldiers? I don’t think we do. How are we supporting our military families? Do we surround and lift them up, as we ought to? I don’t think we do. This was apparent after speaking with these military wives.

I left the meeting feeling convicted about taking them for granted. It is time to bring our soldiers back into focus. With this in mind, I am committing to and humbly asking you to join me in the following:

Praying for our military daily

Thanking a military active duty or retired service person often

Visiting a military landmark regularly (and don't forget your kids)

Talking to friends, family neighbor, and co-workers regularly about the sacrifice of our soldiers, and honoring their efforts

Taking time to talk with a military active duty or retired soldier about their service

If you have children, speaking often about soldiers and their service to our country

If you have a friend whose family member is deployed, asking about their soldier and how you can pray for them

Thank you for taking time to read this post. It is my heartfelt prayer that we will change how we think about and regard our soldiers, and we would once again honor and esteem these warriors as they rightly deserve.

I leave you with this incredible verse as reminder of a soldier’s sacrifice: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13 (KJV)

#militaryfamilies supportmilitarywives Godhonorcountry

0 notes

silviajburke · 7 years

Text

It’s Not Just Amazon. Changing Consumers are Killing Retail.

This post It’s Not Just Amazon. Changing Consumers are Killing Retail. appeared first on Daily Reckoning.

Retail stocks have been annihilated recently, despite the economy eking out growth. The fundamentals of the retail business look horrible: Sales are stagnating and profitability is getting worse with every passing quarter.

Jeff Bezos and Amazon get most of the credit, but this credit is misplaced. Today, online sales represent only 8.5 percent of total retail sales. Amazon, at $80 billion in sales, accounts only for 1.5 percent of total U.S. retail sales, which at the end of 2016 were around $5.5 trillion. Though it is human nature to look for the simplest explanation, in truth, the confluence of a half-dozen unrelated developments is responsible for weak retail sales.

Our consumption needs and preferences have changed significantly. Ten years ago we spent a pittance on cellphones. Today Apple sells roughly $100 billion worth of i-goods in the U.S., and about two-thirds of those sales are iPhones. Apple’s U.S. market share is about 44 percent, thus the total smart mobile phone market in the U.S. is $150 billion a year. Add spending on smartphone accessories (cases, cables, glass protectors, etc.) and we are probably looking at $200 billion total spending a year on smartphones and accessories.

Ten years ago (before the introduction of the iPhone) smartphone sales were close to zero. Nokia was the king of dumb phones, with sales in the U.S. in 2006 of $4 billion. The total dumb cellphone handset market in the U.S. in 2006 was probably closer to $10 billion.

Consumer income has not changed much since 2006, thus over the last 10 years $190 billion in consumer spending was diverted toward mobile phones.

It gets more interesting. In 2006 a cellphone was a luxury only affordable by adults, but today 7-year-olds have iPhones. Our phone bill per household more than doubled over the last decade. Not to bore you with too many data points, but Verizon’s wireless’s revenue in 2006 was $38 billion. Fast-forward 10 years and it is $89 billion — a $51 billion increase. Verizon’s market share is about 30 percent, thus the total spending increase on wireless services is close to $150 billion.

Between phones and their services, this is $340 billion that will not be spent on T-shirts and shoes.

But we are not done. The combination of mid-single-digit health-care inflation and the proliferation of high-deductible plans has increased consumer direct health-care costs and further chipped away at our discretionary dollars. Health-care spending in the U.S. is $3.3 trillion, and just 3 percent of that figure is almost $100 billion.

Then there are soft, hard-to-quantify factors. Millennials and millennial-want-to-be generations (speaking for myself here) don’t really care about clothes as much as we may have 10 years ago. After all, our high-tech billionaires wear hoodies and flip-flops to work. Lack of fashion sense did not hinder their success, so why should the rest of us care about the dress code?

In the ’90s casual Fridays were a big deal – yippee, we could wear jeans to work! Fast-forward 20 years, and every day is casual. Suits? They are worn to job interviews or to impress old-fashioned clients. Consumer habits have slowly changed, and we now put less value on clothes (and thus spend less money on them) and more value on having the latest iThing.

All this brings us to a hard and sad reality: The U.S. is over-retailed. We simply have too many stores. Americans have four or five times more square footage per capita than other developed countries. This bloated square footage was created for a different consumer, the one who in in the ’90s and ’00s was borrowing money against her house and spending it at her local shopping mall.

Today’s post-Great Recession consumer is deleveraging, paying off her debt, spending money on new necessities such as mobile phones, and paying more for the old ones such as health care.

Yes, Amazon and online sales do matter. Ten years ago only 2.5 percent of retail sales took place online, and today that number is 8.5 percent – about a $300 billion change. Some of these online sales were captured by brick-and-mortar online sales, some by e-commerce giants like Amazon, and some by brands selling directly to consumers.

But as you can see, online sales are just one piece of a very complex retail puzzle. All the aforementioned factors combined explain why, when gasoline prices declined by almost 50 percent (gifting consumers hundreds of dollars of discretionary spending a month), retailers’ profitability and consumer spending did not flinch – those savings were more than absorbed by other expenses.

Understanding that online sales (when we say this we really mean Amazon) are not the only culprit responsible for horrible retail numbers is crucial in the analysis of retail stocks. If you are only solving “who can fight back the best against Amazon?” you are only solving for one variable in a multivariable problem: – Consumers’ habits have changed; the U.S. is over-retailed; and consumer spending is being diverted to different parts of the economy.

As value investors we are naturally attracted to hated sectors. However, we demand a much greater margin of safety from retail stocks, because estimating their future cash flows (and thus fair value) is becoming increasingly difficult. Warren Buffett has said that you want to own a business that can be run by an idiot, because one day it will be. A successful retail business in today’s world cannot be run by by an idiot. It requires Bezos-like qualities: being totally consumer-focused, taking risks, thinking long term.

Looking for stocks that will triple tomorrow? They’re the ones that are hated today. Here are a few case studies to convince you.

Fantastic Fantastique

Louis-Hector Berlioz (1803-1869) was not a child prodigy; at age 12 he was a latecomer to music (by that age Mozart had already completed his first performance tour). His father discouraged him from studying piano, so he did not. His parents wanted him to be a doctor (every Jewish mother wants her son to be a doctor), and Berlioz was sent to Paris to study medicine.

At the age of 23, despite his parents’ objections, he formally abandoned the study of medicine and focused solely on music. Berlioz never received classical musical training, and thus it was easy for him to break the rules of music composition since he didn’t know them.

It’s hard to say whether Berlioz’s musical adventure would have amounted to much if he hadn’t fallen in love. When he was 27 he attended a performance of Hamlet. There he saw her: Harriet Smithson, Irish Shakespearean actress. He was fatally smitten. He wrote her love letters, but his love went unrequited. He rented an apartment across the street from her and then wrote her the ultimate love letter: Symphony Fantastique.

Fantastique was written in the pain of unreturned love. Berlioz wrote:

Oh, if only I did not suffer so much!… So many musical ideas are seething within me.… Now that I have broken the chains of routine, I see an immense territory stretching before me, which academic rules forbade me to enter.

In another letter he wrote:

Sometimes I can scarcely endure this mental or physical pain (I can’t separate the two) … I see that wide horizon and the sun, and I suffer so much, so much, that if I did not take a grip of myself, I should shout and roll on the ground. I have found only one way of completely satisfying this immense appetite for emotion, and this is music.

As a side note, the topic of pain and creativity is very dear to me. I strongly believe most creativity in the world is unleashed by pain. If it was not for pain we would not have Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2, which he wrote after suffering a three-year depression from the failure of his first symphony. Or think about this: Beethoven was deaf the last ten years of his life, and this is when he composed his best work.

Back to Berlioz. Either Berlioz could not take the pain or he needed additional stimulants to access his newfound creativity; in any case, he consumed a lot of opium in the course of writing Fantastique. Fantastique premiered to incredible success in 1830 and turned Berlioz into a huge star. Harriett was unfortunately not at the premier and only heard the symphony two years later. By then Berlioz is famous, and she recognizes his genius. They get married and… are unhappy and separate.

Nevertheless, we should all thank Harriet for this incredible masterpiece.

Here is how Leonard Bernstein summarized this symphony: “Berlioz tells it like it is. You take a trip, you wind up screaming at your own funeral.”

Final point. Fantastique is a five-movement program symphony. (Program music means that the symphony follows written program notes; think of them as silent opera.) It’s the love story of Berlioz’s unrequited love for Harriet – on psychedelics.

There is a glittering ball, a lonely idyll in the countryside, and other visions induced by opium. (I kid you not; here is what Berlioz wrote in his program notes: “The Artist, knowing beyond all doubt that his love is not returned, poisons himself with opium. The narcotic plunges him into sleep, accompanied by the most horrible visions.”)

The symphony continues with the murder of the artist’s love interest, the execution of the artist after a stirring march to the gallows, the artist’s funeral, and the artist’s love interest’s reappearance as a witch).

Regards, Vitaliy N. Katsenelson for Contrarian Edge

Vitaliy N. Katsenelson is chief investment officer at Investment Management Associates in Denver, Colo. He is the author of “Active Value Investing” (Wiley) and “The Little Book of Sideways Markets” (Wiley). This article first appeared on Katsenelson’s Contrarian Edge blog.

Ed Note: Ronald Reagan’s right hand man for the economy is sending out a trigger warning. Donald Trump may soon face an immediate halt to governance in the coming weeks and months. Our experts are now sending out a crucial Total Preparation Blueprint Package equipped with information that can help you not only survive but thrive in the event the economy is slammed by government negligence. Find the completely FREE report here.

The post It’s Not Just Amazon. Changing Consumers are Killing Retail. appeared first on Daily Reckoning.

0 notes