#“rori are you projecting” NO because I actually had no intentions of pulling an all nighter last night

[rotisseries]

mike and will stayed up until midnight last night for the legend of zelda tears of the kingdom release and they were planning on pulling an all nighter but they passed out a few hours into it because they're too old for that now. trust me I was there

[kindaeccentric]

When I was writing my university bachelor's degree thesis (that I'm still to defend) about Penny Dreadful as a modern adaptation of Frankenstein I noticed how the original novel's homoeroticism is realized by the series in an interesting way.

In the way he is presented, it seems to me that Victor secretly desires men, but thinks that only through creating a perfect one by himself he's allowed to touch other man's skin. His endeavour to pierce the veil between life and death is an excuse, since Victor from the series grew up lonely after the death of his mother and he searches for companionship, for someone who would love him unconditionally, like his mother used to. He believes he can find such love only in a person he creates himself, brings from the dead, and who would see him as his only friend, calm and obedient. Yet his first instinct is to make a man, not a woman, and a handsome man at that.

I can imagine both Rory Kinnear and Alex Price are not everybody's cup of tea (I do find them attractive, they are quite charismatic), but the way the original Creature and Proteus are shown makes them attractive. Proteus we see through Victor's eyes, when he is tending to his body before its even reanimated, when he sketches him (a sure sign of affection) and when he teaches him how to eat in a way that becomes seductive, because of how the camera lingers on his lips and then, in a closeup, on his fingers running down his long throat, immediately bringing to mind erotic imagery. Some may argue that Victor tries to emulate the relationship between his mother and himself taking the parental role and projecting onto Proteus the role of his childhood self, and as much as it is partially true, their relationship bears these marks of hidden desire on Victor's part from the start. The image at the end of the first episode when Proteus is born shows Victor trembling, teary-eyed, looking at the body, a torn and stitched back together, but human body, of a naked man. He's afraid, but not necessarily of the man, but of finally getting what he wanted, it's a fear resulting from excitement. Then the man is touching his face tenderly and Victor, still trembling, cannot stop himself from a little smile. Their faces are softly illuminated by the orange light of the gas lamp, creating an intimate atmosphere of a warm bedroom. Victor practically gasps hearing his own name smoken by Proteus. I doubt all of it was intentional in the way I read it, but it doesn't change the fact that the final scene can be easily interpreted this way.

Then the original Creature, with the violence surrounding his return, presents him as highly masculine, smart, powerful, a direct opposite to the delicate, clueless Proteus Victor could easily form into whatever he wanted. The Creature throughout the entire series is perceived as ugly by some and easily tolerated by others, making his ugliness purely subjective, since, despite his small deformities he remains strangely alluring with his gothic qualities (black long hair, black lips, white skin, yellow eyes, proportional features) of a dark brooding gentleman. With blood on his face he becomes vampire-like (vampires always a symbol of hidden desires and 'depraved' sexuality, the Creature and Victor becoming a mirror image of Vanessa and vampire Mina, both Creature's and Mina's monstrosity an indirect result of Victor's and Vanessa's desire towards having a same-sex companion). The Creature touches Victor's face, a callback to Proteus doing it, but the Creature is not gentle, he smears blood all over Victor's face (blood in vampire narratives was always a symbol for other bodily fluids, that's why it seems so sexy, it also gained another meaning in the 80s, due to the HIV epidemic, which no filmmaker can shake off if they tried, I could discuss it more with The Lost Boys, but no time for that right now).

The dynamic between Victor and the Creature is a reversal of Victor's budding relationship with Proteus, experience winning over innocence. Victor is under another man's rule, and it terrifies him, because it would force him into a position of having to admit his attraction, whereas as the one in control he could have still easily deny it. The Creature, with all his attributes, symbolizes carnal love, he's all 'body', where Proteus was virginal, pious love (to an extent). In one of the scenes where we see Proteus he looks up into the skylight at Victor's apartment and appears angelic, as if in a halo of white light.

It's revealed Victor never had a woman, and the series wants the viewer to believe it's because of his awkwardness and passion for science that consumed him, but his dedication to creating himself male companions instead of searching for a living female one is exactly what makes him seem more queer coded.

It's clear that the lack of paternal figure results in Victor quickly becoming close with older men he encounters (Sir Malcolm, Van Helsing), but it also puts him into a position where he's constantly surrounded by men, with whom he feels more at ease, and is intimidated by women. The rivalry between him and Ethan is that of siblings, until the moment when Ethan teaches him how to shoot a gun. It might be a stretch (it is a bit of a stretch, I admit), but a gun often, especially in horror, alongside a knife, represents manhood and masculine power. Victor allows Ethan to touch him and encourages him to show off with the gun, which is a scene all too familiar from many other movies where the role of Victor is reserved for a woman and the interaction is flirtatious (can't pull examples out of thin air, but if you saw over 1400 movies like me you know I'm not lying). All this adds to the general image of Victor.

The Creature and Victor, when they are on a walk, have a very revealing conversation in which the Creature points out how quick Victor was to grow attached to his more perfect man, and Victor doesn't deny it, he admits that he did in fact feel affection towards Proteus, although the meaning of it as the scorned past partner expressing jealousy over the love he didn't get while someone else did is largely subtext. When the Creature says that he's lonely, Victor answers 'I cannot love you' (paraphrase, because I can't find the exact quote right now) and the Creature, disillusioned, mocks him, 'I do not want what you cannot give' suggesting that Victor, by making himself a meek obedient man, is selfish, cruel, manipulating, and a coward, therefore could not have loved Proteus truly. Then again, Victor cannot bring himself to love his original Creature, because he's not the ideal man he envisioned and by then the Creature being too aware of his flaws of character. The Creature/Caliban/John Clare knows that Victor is 'monstrous', not just because he's someone who desecrates dead bodies, plays God and abandons his creation, but because of his queer desire. It's important that in the case of Penny Dreadful 'monstrosity' signifies many different things, literal (being a vampire werewolf, witch, and so on), metaphorical (bad deeds, like letting your son die a horrible death, cheating, killing etc.) and wholy subjective, merely condemned by ignorant society (Sembene's blackness, Brona's sex work, Lily's want to be equal or greater than men, Vanessa's want for sexual freedom, the Creature's ugliness, Angelique being transgender and other cases), so it's NOT that much of a stretch this time.

We also have the whole problem with Lily. Victor is so attached to Lily (who takes up both Elizabeth's and creature's bride parts in the novel) because he believes that only by possessing a good woman he'll be redeemed for his 'sinful' desires, but he's foolish to think that. This belief reduces a woman to a semi-maternal, semi-virginal angelic ideal with no sexual urges or agency, like virgin Mary. Lily is a true replacement for Victor's mother, and his imagined redemption. As long as she's similar to Proteus, in that she's not sexual, and pure like an angel. Yet Lily is not a woman in that sense. She is another of Victor's creatures, so she partially also takes over the role of the original Creature from the novel, a male. She's not an ideal of a Victorian obedient wife, she has power, or tries to have it, but power in the context of patriarchal society is masculine by nature. The moment she drops her pretenses of a weak delicate wife-like girl Victor does not want her like this. He doesn't want a woman that is sexually liberated, because he doesn't like women in this way, and yet, by being similar to the first Creature (from Victor's perspective, from hers John Clare is similar to Victor-a man, I could delve into Brona's sexuality, but later, this thing is already way longer than I intended) she's 'the man' he wanted.

There is also Henry. Henry Jekyll takes the role of his namesake in the novel, Henry Clerval, Victor's closest friend, and a character most often cited to have homoerotic tension with Victor. It's true that some of the eroticism might be accidental, stemming from the prevalence of homosocial interactions in 'Frankenstein' which in turn is a result of misogynistic nature of 19th century Genevian society and in-novel universe reflecting it, but like I mentioned before, it still feeds into the queer reading of the text and translates beautifully into Jekyll and Victor being both extremely misogynistic towards Lily and their mutual homoerotic tension. In the scenes where Henry purposes his plan to Victor he practically seductively purrs it into his ear, Lily becomes merely a female buffer that allows for that interaction, a female presence which is an excuse for male closeness (here I have a couple of examples actually: Dead Ringers, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Scream (in a roundabout way, through murder) and a couple others, but that deserves its own article). I won't even mention more references to the novel, because that's a lot already.

Penny Dreadful, although I believe largely unintentionally, expands on what is already there through the changes it introduces in relation to the novel's plot. I have nothing else smart to say, I just think it's worth considering.

*I use the word 'queer', because that's the umbrella term we use in academic writing for years now and even our lgbt+ group at university is called 'queer', so don't come at me with stupid takes

[the-perfunctorily]

Who Killed Jon?

A meta post intended to (not very) seriously look at all the possible suspects in the Mutiny at Castle Black, and narrow it down to a few characters with motive, and means to be involved.

Wick Whittlestick slashed at his throat,[...]"For the Watch." Wick slashed at him again. [...] Then Bowen Marsh stood there before him, tears running down his cheeks. "For the Watch." He punched Jon in the belly. When he pulled his hand away, the dagger stayed where he had buried it. (ADWD, Jon XII)

We know for a fact that Bowen Marsh and Wick Whittlestick were part of the mutiny. But at least four people stab Jon, likely more. So, who were they?

This is intended mostly just as reference for myself as to who was where and when, and a fun game of clue, and mostly just speculation and headcanon to procrastinate on projects, and not really meant to be taken seriously (yes, I wrote 5000 words on a post that is not meant to be taken seriously. Such is life) I’m sure nothing I’ve put down is very revolutionary. We just like to have fun here.

This post also came into being because I think it’s very easy to imagine that it’s just Everyone that turns against Jon, which leads to a really bleak outlook for the Wall plot in TWOW. I’ve seen people worrying that Satin will be harmed by the other brothers, or that Val and Little Monster may be hurt, either by them or by Melisandre. These are all possibilities,  but I don’t believe that it’s necessarily true that Jon has no allies left. So I wanted to eliminate as many people as I could. When I get right down to it, I can only come up with 9 people who have either circumstantial evidence to suggest their involvement, or motive I can scrape together. So I believe there could be a solid pro-Jon contingent still at the Wall post-assassination, and his friends and vulnerable people he was protecting might not be doomed.

The suspect list is near the end in bolded large font so if you want to skip the long and mostly unnecessary eliminations, just scroll to there to see who I actually think might have been involved.

For formatting and clarity reasons all lists will be bolded, and I’ll bold every name at the point that I either count them in or out of the suspect list.

First off, I’m going to assume that Bowen Marsh was the main force of will behind the mutiny, and base my assessment of who was involved on who would ally themselves with him and what I believe to be his motives. This might not be true. He might just have been a participant, but I think he has the means, and the motive to have orchestrated it, and don’t see any other candidates for mastermind, unless GRRM pulls a complete Asimov ‘Mule’ gambit, which I will get to in my final suspect list. I think Bowen Marsh did not want to kill Jon, but believed he had to, for the good of the watch. I believe his anti-wildling feelings and traditionalist values were a big part of why he did it, and I think he did it to preserve the way he believed the watch is supposed to and has always operated. So people who hate wildlings, people who hate Jon’s radical policies and would want a return to how it was during Mormont’s command and before, people who are close associates of Marsh’s, and people who have personal reasons to hate Jon are my main suspects.

Now. To get started, I have to ask. Who would want to kill Jon? Fortunately, several people have openly threatened, or implied that they want to kill him in the past! Unfortunately, they all have strong alibis.

Ser Alliser Thorne: 

You'd best pray that it's a wildling blade that kills me, though. The ones the Others kill don't stay dead … and they remember. I'm coming back, Lord Snow (ADWD, Jon VI)

Alibi: is currently out ranging with Dywen, MIA beyond the Wall

Mance Rayder: 

I could visit you as easily, my lord. Those guards at your door are a bad jape. A man who has climbed the Wall half a hundred times can climb in a window easy enough (ADWD, Melisandre)

Alibi: is currently trapped in Winterfell on a mission to rescue ‘Arya’, allegedly imprisoned in a cage

Stannis:

 He only threatened to behead me twice. (ADWD, Jon I)

Alibi: Is snowbound in a crofter’s village about three days from Winterfell, and probably didn’t even really mean it.

Cotter Pyke: 

“Lord Snow," said Cotter Pyke, "if you muck this up, I'm going to rip your liver out and eat it raw with onions." (ASOS, Jon XII)

Alibi: Is currently having a very bad time on a boat near hardhome, on Jon’s orders, also probably didn’t really mean it.

That leaves everyone at Castle Black at the time of the mutiny. This includes Selyse, her household and knights, Melisandre, Tormund and his ~50 wildlings, and all the sworn brothers and recruits of the Watch.

I’m going to discount anyone in Selyse’s camp, despite them being at Castle Black at the time of the attack, and even present at the event, because Jon is Stannis’ principal ally at the Wall, and much as Selyse might dislike him personally, I don’t think she would involve any of her knights or retainers in a plot to have him killed. Melisandre might have the ability to take control of Selyse’s knights because they are all fervent believers, but she likes Jon, and thinks he is an important ally, so I don’t think she would do anything to harm him either.

Similarly, I’m going to discount Tormund and any of the wildlings he brought from Oakenshield. The mutiny was motivated partly by anti-wildling sentiment, and disapproval of Jon’s welcoming of wildlings south of the Wall, so I don’t think that Bowen Marsh would ally himself with them. Furthermore, the mutiny takes place right after Jon has given a speech endearing himself to the wildlings, I don’t think they would suddenly turn against him after cheering and swearing to come with him to Winterfell. This includes Borroq, who, though he speaks derisively to Jon, and Ghost reacts aggressively towards him and his boar, I think means no ill will towards them. I actually think he will be instrumental in facilitating Jon’s resurrection. For what it’s worth, I think most of his smugness and rudeness toward Jon is because Jon is not acknowledging his own warging abilities, not because of personal animosity. And Ghost’s aggression is more due to his past experience with other skinchangers (namely Orell the eagle trying to break his neck and then later trying to rip Jon’s eye out) being averse, than any sense of ill-intent. A lot of stock is put in the direwolves’ intuition about who means their Starkling harm, but in reality I think it is more based on the kid’s personal feelings that they aren’t acknowledging. Grey Wind wants to hurt Tyrion in AGOT despite him being innocent of the attempt on Bran’s life, but shows no ill will towards Lothar Frey, one of the main architects of the Red Wedding. Jon is suspicious of Borroq, so Ghost is, that doesn’t necessarily mean that he is an enemy.

I’m also going to exclude guys who are not explicitly stated to have died or been sent elsewhere, but for some reason do not appear in the ADWD appendix or the wiki as being at Castle Black during ADWD. These are:

Bass: The Castle Black master of hounds, I’m assuming he went on the ranging and didn’t survive, since nobody seems to be keeping any hounds at Castle Black anymore.

Red Jack Crabb and Rusty Flowers: Were supposed to escort Janos Slynt to Greyguard. Presumably they were sent there after his execution.

Rudge: helps Donal Noye fix Longclaw in AGoT, but is not mentioned again, nor does he appear in any other appendix. Maybe he died on the ranging, or was sent to another tower. Maybe he died of personal problems.

Ser Wynton Stout: Ostensibly commanded Castle Black while Bowen marsh was away with the Garrison chasing raiders and then fighting on the bridge of skulls. He appears in the AFFC appendix but not in the ADWD one, I’m assuming he died of old age somewhere between books.

Also not included in the appendix are the two unnamed recruits that were part of Conwy’s first group of prisoners, a barber “a greybeard leaning on a staff” and a brigand “some grinning loon who must have fancied himself a warrior” (ACOK, Jon I). These guys might have died during the attack on Castle Black, might have sworn their vows at some point during ADWD, or might still be recruits with Hop-Robin and Jace. But they aren’t named so I’m not going to worry about them.

This leaves the men of the Watch who are stated, or implied to be at Castle Black at the time of the mutiny for our suspect list. Here they are in alphabetical order, according to both the wiki and the ADWD appendix.

Albett, Alf of Runnymudd, Arron, Bearded Ben, Black Bernarr, Septon Cellador, Clydas, Cugen (or Cuger), Dannel, Sweet Donnel Hill, Duncan “Big” Liddle, Elron, Emrick, Fulk the Flea, Garrett Greenspear, Geoff the Squirrel, Goady, Halder, Hareth “Horse”, Three-Finger Hobb, Hop-Robin, Jace, Jax, Jeren, Kegs, Leathers, Left Hand Lew, Luke of Longtown, Matthar, Mully, Othell Yarwyck, Owen the Oaf, Rory, Satin, Spare Boot, Tim Stone, Tim Tangletongue, Ty, Tom Barleycorn, and Ulmer of the Kingswood.

Obviously there are probably more men than this, I don’t think it’s ever actually said how many brothers are still at the castle at the end of ADWD, but it’s probably more than just 40. (though maybe not by much? it feels quite empty there and everyone expresses feeling outnumbered by wildings and Kings/Queens men) However, this is a post about who, of the people we know, killed Jon. There isn’t much of a point if it’s unnamed stewards #23 and #17.

Next, I’ll remove people I believe like Jon and wouldn’t hurt him, and have no reason to suspect. However, I wouldn’t put it past GRRM to make one or more of these guys a mutineer for the emotional toll it would take.

Albett, Matthar, and Jeren: All of them were recruits with Jon that he never clashed with directly, they were even friends. Matt had Septon Cellador light a candle for Ned when news came to Castle Black of his execution and he was one of the boys that went with Pyp and Grenn to bring Jon back when he rode off. (side note, I find it very funny that these guys are all just At The Castle while Jon is doing his ‘woe is me the lonely friendless commander’ bit. Dude, half of your graduating class is standing right there)

Arron and Emrick, Horse, Jace, and Hop-Robin: Recruits that came to the Wall either right before or while the great ranging was gone. They fought alongside Jon to defend the Wall, and trained under him briefly. Horse lived in mole’s town and only survived the attack because Jon warned the people there, and he decided to take the black after the battle. I would imagine that he thinks very highly of Jon. When they are made brothers, the twins accompany Horse (and Leathers and Jax, all followers of the old gods) to the wierwood grove to say their vows despite following the Seven. They are all close enough in age to Jon’s friends and would have had lots of time to get to know them during the ranging. None of them ever knew the Old Bear, so wouldn’t have any nostalgia about his tenure as LC. They seem like the best candidates for Jon loyalists to me.

Duncan “Big” Liddle: As the eldest son of Torren Liddle, he is Morgan “Middle” Liddle’s big brother. Morgan Liddle is among the northmen that join with Stannis’ army. He is the loudest shouter of the “Ned’s Girl” refrain, suggesting that his main reason for joining is because of him and his house’s strong feelings of loyalty to house Stark and Ned’s legacy. Also, Bran runs into a Liddle subject (or so he thinks) on the way to the Wall who expresses strong pro-Stark sentiments. I’m going to say that Big Liddle shares his family’s warm feelings toward the Starks, and would be loyal to Jon, him being ‘Ned’s Boy’.

Three-finger Hobb: Was always nice to Jon, even if he was exasperated about the wildlings and having to do a whole wedding feast. He seems an easygoing sort and not someone that could be manipulated into doing a mutiny. Also he was nice to Sam and gave him a salted ham for a nameday present, so I will not hear anything bad about the man. That said, he’s a long-time associate of Bowen Marsh, and being the chief cook, they would work very closely together, so it wouldn’t actually surprise me if he was involved.

Jax and Leathers: As former wildlings, I don’t think they would work with Bowen Marsh. It was Jon who facilitated their coming south and they took the black of their own free will. Also leathers was actively intervening in Wun Wun’s meltdown during the mutiny, so he had his hands full, and besides, he seemed like a good pal to Jon.

Owen the Oaf: He’s a nice boy and was happy to follow Jon’s orders, also Jon let him have Janos Slynt’s Boots.

Satin: If GRRM makes Satin complicit in the mutiny I’ll cry, so I simply won’t entertain the possibility.

I’ll also mention that in Jon VI, he sends out nine men on a ranging. I’ve taken out all the ones that are named: Dywen, Ser Alliser Thorne, Kedge Whiteye, and the three men who’s eyeless heads turn up just outside the gate, victims of the Weeper: Hairy Hal, Black Jack Bulwer, And Garth Greyfeather. This leaves three men that go unnamed. One in Dywen and Ser Alliser’s party, and two in Kedge’s. They are presumably experienced rangers. They might just be unnamed, unlisted watchmen, but they also might be some of the above brothers. Bearded Ben, Black Bernarr, Sweet Donnel Hill, Elron, Geoff, Goady, and Tim Stone are not mentioned after Jon sends out the ranging, so it might be any of them. I’m going to discount them all, because I don’t see any real motives there anyway, except Sweet Donnel and Goady, for reasons I’ll get to later.

Jon also sends an unknown number of guides with Stannis in Jon IV, and later with Tycho Nestoris in Jon IX. None of them are named, they might have been stewards or rangers, who knows, I’m not going to speculate.

Now,  there are several Rangers here who could go one way or the other, so I’m not going to spend time on the ones that are at Castle Black during the mutiny but don’t have much of a motive. They might have, they might not have been part of the mutiny. But Since Bowen Marsh was in charge, I think that it was mostly made up of stewards. So I’m going to take Garrett Greenspear, Luke of Longtown, Rory, Tom Barleycorn, and Ulmer off the suspect list. (Also I like Ulmer, and think he’s cool, so there. Also what’s up with Tom Barleycorn. Have you guys ever heard the song John Barleycorn must die? Where a symbolic figure of the harvest named John Barleycorn is sacrificed to be resurrected in spring and keep people alive with sustenance and alcohol? Kind of sus when this guy named TOM Barleycorn is at the castle where a main character named Jon dies and is presumably going to be resurrected, and likely have a hand in ending the winter.)

Similarly, for the builders, Othell Yarwyck, as the first Builder, and frequent Naysayer of Jon’s, is a prime suspect. However, even if Othell was involved, which is a distinct possibility, I don’t think he would have ordered his men to also involve themselves. So I’m going to take Kegs and Spare Boot off the list, since I don’t see a motive for either of them, and they both seemed very enthusiastic about fighting alongside Jon during Mance’s assault.

And as for stewards. As the men directly under Bowen Marsh’s command, they are the most likely to be involved, So I’m just going to say that I have no real reason to think Ty, Cugen, Tim Tangletongue (who does not appear in the text but is in the appendix), or Dannel would turn on Jon, but they very well might have, and I wouldn’t be very surprised if they did. For the record, Dannel gave Alys Karstark a sausage from the kitchen when he and Ty found her, and that alone endears him to me enough to take him off the list, and Cugen is only ever mentioned here:

Sam will remain in training, with the likes of Rast and Cuger and these new boys who are coming up the Kingsroad. Gods only know what they'll be like (AGOT Jon V)

as a recruit that might hurt Sam if he did not graduate with Jon and the others, so perhaps he would be anti-Jon, as someone associated with Rast

All of this said, Chett’s prologue is pretty much a direct message from GRRM that even guys who Jon barely notices might hate him and wish him ill. Since we only see the Wall through Jon’s PoV, we are going to have the same blind spots he does. So any of these half mentioned, mostly forgotten guys might harbor some intense resentment, and have all the reason in the world to kill Jon. But for the purposes of this post, I am focusing on characters that I think make sense as being anti-Jon, and there’s no way to speculate on people with no evidence to suggest them.

So, finally, having eliminated everyone without motive or evidence, this leaves only the characters I actually have reason to suspect were involved. The suspect list is as follows:

Alf of Runnymudd, Septon Cellador, Clydas, Sweet Donnel Hill, Fulk the Flea, Goady, Left Hand Lew, Mully, and Othell Yarwyck.  

I’ll go from least to most likely mutineers, listing reasons I suspect them, and reasons I think they might not have been involved.

9&8 : Mully and Fulk the Flea.

Evidence: Ghost acts aggressively towards them while they are guarding the armory the day of the Mutiny.

Fulk the Flea [said], "but your wolf's in no mood for company today.”

Mully agreed. "He tried to take a bite o' me, he did.” (ADWD, Jon XIII)

Alibi: Neither has any history of being anti-Jon that I can find, and personally, I like Mully because he is named after Mulligan the orange cat, here pictured with Parris  

which I think is just too cute, so if either of them were involved I would prefer it were Fulk. I know that’s not a real reason but its my list and I make the rules. Anyway as I said before, Ghost being aggressive doesn’t necessarily mean guilt. At this point, Ghost is paranoid because Jon is paranoid, feeling people around him plotting against him. Fulk and Mully might just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

7: Goady

Evidence: He was part of Jarman Buckwell’s scouting party on the Giant’s Stair, which spotted Jon among the wildlings. I imagine it would be very hard to shake the image of Jon as a wildling, even after he is elected Lord Commander. Especially if he then turns around and lets those same wildlings through the Wall.

Alibi: He does not appear in the text of ADWD, only the appendix, and his only mention in the books at all is in the Storm of Swords Chett prologue, in Kedge Whiteye’s dialogue

 “Harma the Dogshead has the van, the poxy bitch. Goady crept up on her camp and saw her” (ASOS, Prologue) 

so who knows what he’s actually up to. He may very well be with Kedge Whiteye out ranging right now, since he’s an experienced scout,  and they seem to be good buds. I just wanted to include him because he’s the only surviving member of Buckwell’s party that isn’t explicitly stated to be elsewhere.

6: Septon Cellador

Evidence: Vocally disapproving of most of Jon’s decisions, extremely homophobic towards Satin, Religiously intolerant towards followers of the old gods, and racist toward the wildlings, he is definitely a leader in the anti-Jon contingent. In fact, I don’t doubt at all that the had a hand in planning the mutiny.

Alibi: I don’t think he has the guts to actually stab anyone, and considering the mutiny took place at night, he was probably too drunk to stand, let alone participate.

5: Clydas

Evidence: Here is the Mule theory. (I don’t actually believe this, but it would be a wild curveball for GRRM to throw, and I wouldn’t put it past him) Clydas was the last person to handle the Pink Letter, being the one to give it to Jon. Clydas can read, and manages all the correspondences coming to, or going from Castle Black. This gives him ample opportunity to interfere with incoming mail. We know the letter may have been faked or at least tampered with, since the wax seal is only a smear by the time it comes into Jon’s possession. It’s entirely possible that Clydas was working with, or masterminding the mutineers to forge all or some part of the Pink Letter in order to incite Jon to forswear himself.

Here’s the thing. Clydas has been assisting Maester Aemon since before Jon Arrived at the Wall, he likely was aware of Jon’s hand in getting Sam into Chett’s position, he was privy to Jon’s chafing about being assigned to the stewards, and probably knew about Jon’s desertion attempt. Clydas helped Sam count the votes for Lord Commander, and who knows how much he figured out about the election rigging. He has never stated much of an opinion on any of it, and often plays the dim, forgettable assistant. However, what if he was smarter than he was letting on? What if his impression of Jon was that of a manipulative ambitious young man willing to cheat the system to get what he wants. What if he, knowing Jon, having observed him from the age of fourteen, and read every letter written by, to, or about him, and was likely also privy to many conversations between high officers (including his uncle) about him, knew exactly what Jon cared about, and what buttons to press that would make Jon instantly too angry to think straight, and decided to put that into action, and team up with (or even manipulate) Bowen Marsh, who had his own reasons to want Jon gone, and the command of enough men to get the job done.

Alibi: I don’t want him to be involved!! :(( He’s never been anything but kind to Jon, asking if he’s alright, seeing if he’s ok after the news about ‘Arya’, calling him Jon instead of my lord, almost fondly. I would be really sad if he was. Also, while he may have been involved in the planning and orchestration part, I don’t think he participated in the physical assassination attempt. He is frail and old with poor vision, and two hours and change before the mutiny, Jon has Mully and Satin escort him back up to his chamber in the maester’s keep because it is so icy. I don’t know if he could make it back down to the yard in the dark to do a stabbing in that time.  

4: Sweet Donnel Hill

Evidence: He was part of the Chett’s planned mutiny at the Fist of the First Men, survived the Fight at the Fist, and made it to Craster’s keep. However at Craster’s he stayed loyal to the Watch, and was among those survivors to make it back to the Wall with Grenn and Dolorous Edd. This seems to me like a man that is fully willing to get rid of a Lord Commander if he disagrees with his leadership, but who remains loyal to the principles of the Watch. This is exactly what the spirit of the mutiny was, in my opinion, and puts him high on my list. Not to mention the fact that he is a steward, and thus under Marsh’s command.

Alibi: He is not mentioned after Jon III when he is one of the archers that shoots Rattleshirt disguised as Mance as he is burned alive, he may have been sent elsewhere by the time of the mutiny, or is simply not an active enough Jon disapprover to be noticed by him, which suggests his uninvolvement.

3: Othell Yarwyck

Evidence: As I stated before, Othell is a close associate of Bowen Marsh’s and among the chorus of naysayers that become constant fixtures in Jon’s ADWD chapters. He’s a traditionalist, and a better follower than a leader. 

Othell Yarwyck was not a man of strong convictions (ASOS, Jon XIII) 

I definitely think Bowen could sway him, they are on first name terms, have worked together for a while, and probably talk about what Jon is doing that they don’t like when he isn’t there. He is also present in the Shield Hall by Bowen when Jon reads the letter, and leaves with him when he storms out.

Alibi: The first inkling we get that Bowen is harboring malice towards Jon is that he refuses wine or food in Jon VIII. At that time, Othell happily takes a seat and a sausage. As the sort not to think too deeply on things, 

Othell Yarwyck was as stolid and unimaginative as he was taciturn (ADWD. Jon V) 

he might not second guess Jon’s orders beyond what Bowen tells him to, so he might not harbor the same anti-Jon sentiments. He’s not one to rock the boat, killing the lord commander is a big boat rocking. I believe he knew about the plot, and that Bowen would want him in on it, but IDK if he would be directly involved.

2: Left Hand Lew

I must admit I have no motive for him. But he’s standing right with Bowen and Wick Whittlestick in the shield hall, 

Bowen had Wick Whittlestick, Left Hand Lew, and Alf of Runnymudd beside him] (ADWD Jon XIII)

and we have no other evidence for Wick until he physically tries to cut Jon’s throat (well besides that he is the keeper of the keys to the food stores, which would obviously be a position that worked VERY closely under Bowen Marsh), so I have to put him top of the list. He’s standing with the primary perpetrators just moments before the crime is committed. He was probably the third or fourth knife. I don’t have an alibi for him either.

1: Alf of Runnymudd

The same things can be said about Alf that have been said about Lew. He was standing with Bowen and Wick in the shield hall, he left with them when they stormed out. However. Unlike Lew or Wick, Alf has a definite motive.

In Melisandre’s chapter, we get some characterization for Alf. He is a builder, he took R’hllor for his god (of his own free will) and, most importantly, when it is revealed who was killed by the Weeper, he screams and breaks down crying to hear that Garth Greyfeather was one of them. He’s so distraught he has to be drugged and put to bed.

“Who is it?" asked Owen the Oaf. "Not Dywen, is it?"

"Nor Garth," said the queen's man she knew as Alf of Runnymudd, one of the first to exchange his seven false gods for the truth of R'hllor. "Garth's too clever for them wildlings."

"How many?" Mully asked.

"Three," Jon told them. "Black Jack, Hairy Hal, and Garth."

Alf of Runnymudd let out a howl loud enough to wake sleepers in the Shadow Tower.

"Put him to bed and get some mulled wine into him," Jon told Three-Finger Hobb.  (ADWD, Melisandre)

@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly​ has written before about the possibility that Alf and Garth were in a gay relationship. I fully subscribe to this idea, and if you know me at all, you know I am a huge proponent of the Wall Husbands concept, and think there is probably a decent population of gay men on the Wall (my main choices for this being Benjen, Dolorous Edd, Big Liddle, and Waymar Royce [you may notice the pattern of them being sons of lords who joined of their own free will. It just makes sense to me that a lord’s son who for SOME reason didn’t want to have to get married to a woman would consider the option of joining an order of men that live together and never marry]) 

So my theory regarding Alf, is that he blames Jon for the death of Garth Greyfeather, his lover. Because Jon sent the ranging out knowing full well that few rangers are making it back alive, and here’s the clincher. Despite his many crimes, Jon is still willing to pardon the Weeper  

“Surely the lord commander cannot mean to allow that ... that demon [The Weeper] through as well?” [said Bowen Marsh]

“Not gladly.” Jon had not forgotten the heads the Weeping Man had left him, with bloody holes where their eyes had been. Black Jack Bulwer, Hairy Hal, Garth Greyfeather. I cannot avenge them, but I will not forget their names. “But yes, my lord, him as well. We cannot pick and choose amongst the free folk, saying this one may pass, this one may not. Peace means peace for all. [...] When a man takes the black, his crimes are forgiven,” Jon reminded them. “If we want the free folk to fight beside us, we must pardon their past crimes as we would for our own.” (ADWD, Jon XI)

If news of that got to Alf, I easily imagine he would be fully on board with killing him, and might have gone and tried it himself even without Bowen Marsh’s prompting. All of this makes him my suspect #1 for third or fourth knife. I think his story is a tragedy and really really hope he gets some moments in TWOW and is not just killed off right away. 

[welcometotheocverse]

🌟 for Elliot pls?

:D aaaah! I’ve had him in the brain a lot lately okay sorry this got long And also im rewatching rn so its sorta season 1ish.

Elliot is Rory’s younger twin. He was given Christopher’s middle name. He’s mostly grateful it was the middle name.

He and Rory are super close. It was just the two of them ( and then Lane) The Twins That Read A Lot. Because they had each other they didn’t have much incentive to make friends outside of each other ( Elliot more than Rory) and extrapolating from the Pilot where Rory doesn’t seem like she has a lot of friends ( or any sans Lane) and is lowkey scoffed at for reading the assignment I’m gonna go with “other kids weren’t that keen on making friends with them either”

Rory’s the talkative one, he’s the quiet one. This is a bit of Rory also being protective of him/noticing when he looks overwhelmed and just...talking up a storm as is her wont and subtly getting attention away from Elliot. For a lot of the early season they’re not seen one without the other ( keeping in mind their arch is to learn it’s okay to have different dreams and even go different places ) 

Sorta shy and a bit more introverted than Rory. Once you become his friend however he pretty much would die for you and his face absolutely lights up when he sees you as opposed to his usual reserved nature and he talks to you albeit not as much as his twin ( unless hes super excited or talking about something he finds interesting then the resemblance kicks in lmao but thats the exception)  its like a switch ( seen with Rory, Luke, and Lane in canon and Sophie/Paige in their xover)

Likes hanging out at Luke’s. They both sorta enjoy... being quiet around each other. Elliot thinks he has a really calming vibe …when Taylor’s not there.

Ms Kim doesn’t like him because he’s a boy so he’s not allowed at Lane’s like Rory is ( honestly the feeling’s mutual bc “I’m pretty  sure locking you up for days and keeping you from school falls under child abuse also wtf” and lowkey the girls are like “lets just keep you not in the house” Lane might be closer to Rory but they still talk music together. She’s part of the reason his music taste actually started deviating  from  Lorelai’s and Rory’s.)

He doesn’t like unfair treatment of other people. It really gets to him. Examples are Ms. Kim to Lane and his grandparents and father to his mom. Later examples are Mitchum Huntzberger, and Marty. ( he’s pretty unimpressed with Marty and how his feelings for Rory make him act in general tbh but what he does with Lucy is just...it really bothers him he’s adamant that  Rory should tell Lucy the truth.)

Highkey  he has about zero patience for bad/toxic parents partly bc of his own feelings about Christopher and to an extent his grandparents that he keeps minimizing so they get projected on...everyone else with bad parents lol.

 Logan’s still a bit amazed that this shy soft spoken kid he met in his junior year went off like “He’s not your fucking property” when Mitchum went on his “You’re available when i say you’re available” tirade ( Elliot was ngl intimidated/scared of Mitchum who pretty much went “Who the hell are you??!” but Logan’s his friend and that wasn’t okay and he kept eye contact with the asshole until Logan diverted his attention back to him/the fight they were having and made sure he at least told Logan afterwards because “but he shouldn’t..” and “he shouldn’t have” and “No! No..it’s not Okay. “)

But also like constantly “it’s not a big deal” when it comes to his aforementioned feelings about Christopher and pretty much anything he might be angry about. 

Lowkey spends a lot of time Rory goes through relationship drama between “????” and “wowww dodged a bullet” Rory throws pillows at him for the latter because “If I’m gonna rant at you El, you could at least give me sympathy.”

He does have some insecurities about his orientation born out of just..f.eeling othered due to isolation and also some stuff he’s heard his dad say.

He figures out he’s asexual before he figures out he’s aromantic and has to deal with a lot of “Are you sure?” and “is that..is that normal?” from some townsfolks before he figures out Luke can scare them off and he lowkey spends a lot of time at the dinner during this time. Luke smiles at him and gives him muffins tho he’ll deny deny deny if you mention it.

A bit more sensitive than Rory like on the pilot episode when he notices Lorelai is worried about Chilton/having to ask her parents for money he stops at the base of the stairs and asks “is...everything okay mom?” and is kinda just in tune with how the people he cares about are feeling/picks up on things like that.

He...doesn’t super like his grandparents because of how they treat his mother.  Emily already made him a bit anxious because of her passive  aggressive nature ( he’s giving me some anxiety vibes tbh) and the fact that he thought the fact that his mom kept them away sorta ominous.  A lot of season 1 is him looking down at his plate and tensing with every “your mother’s golf clubs are in the attic along with the rest of her potential” and Richard’s “he ( Christopher) always was a smart one that  boy, you two must take after  him” and “as a maid with all your brains and talents” and it sorta...yeah he spends a lot of time looking at his plate and swallowing resentment. There are times where it gets better but overall he’s never completely at ease around them. He’s very quiet but civil around them even as he grows some affection and builds bridges with them along Lorelai and Rory. And I haven’t even figured out the fallout with the thing they pull at the wedding.

Emily at least once asked off handedly why Elliot wasn’t seeing anyone and I’m still figuring out if she says something like “that’s not normal” before Lorelai or Rory intervene.

(( Full disclosure Emily reminds me a bit too much of my own relationship with my mom and its really hard to write her favorably though I at least try to be fair. So Elliot is sometimes  a bit harsh on her and very in Lorelai’s corner when Emily and Richard are...less than nice. ))

Sort of a mamma’s boy. Rory and Lorelai have their special connection but so do Elliot and Lorelai. Rory was a bit more extroverted and would play/hang out with Lane while Elliot was perfectly content as a babie curling up with his mom and reading. It worried Lorelai a bit, how hard it was for him to reach out ( she never had that moment she had with Rory and Lane of “my kid has a friend” with him) but he always had Rory yknow so she calmed herself with that. Sometimes when Rory’s with Lane he’ll hang out at the Inn and work there. He somehow got in to Michel’s good graces ( “because you are quiet and unobtrusive”  and got him to teach him French 

Very tactile. When he’s getting nervous Rory will reach out and grab his hand or Lore will put her hands on his shoulder and he’ll calm down. He does the same when wanting to comfort friends or just wanting to show affection ( will lean on Finn and Colin a lot as he gets closer to them or accept that they’ll just throw an arm around him)

Meeting the LAD bridgade kids makes social events with his grandparents so much easier like ohmygod subparties with Logan Colin Finn and Rory  become lifesavers. ( its not so much the drinking as having someone you can laugh with while dodging your grandparents friends and the girl they told to look for you yknow)

He has more resentment towards Christopher than his sister and doesn’t see him with the rose colored glasses Rory sees him in their younger years. His absence hurts him a lot. He hides it well and is nice enough towards him because he loves Lorelai and Rory and wants them to be happy/have a good time but if you catch him on a bad day you might get a rant about how little Christopher knows about them and how little he was there  and “he just drops by, spends like a day with us and leaves yknow...it’s...and we’re supposed to be happy???” and the fact that he doesn’t wanna tell Rory or Lorelai bc he thinks it’ll upset them just  sorta...makes it worse.

And then at some point  Christopher pops off with “and how long are you gonna entertain this phase of his Lore, a boy his age should be dating” and while Rory’s making angry noises and Lorelai’s saying “Outside. Now” ( though they don’t know the twins are listening) he just gets...this thin unsurprised smile and...yeah it’s not great. 

Very supportive of people he loves. He’s constantly telling Rory through the Chilton years that she’s smart enough, more than smart enough to get through this and helps her study. He makes sure he tells Lorelai he loves her or hugs her if he can tell the dinners are a bit hard on her. Honestly a total cream puff. The resentment for his grandparents and father is mostly buried and comes out like when he’s upset/they do something that provokes it. Mostly he’s a really soft boy and kinda soft spoken, loves reading about science and space ( he balances out Rory’s preference for literature and history though they both like poetry and Elliot occasionally reads prose as Rory lets him infodump sometimes about science journals) and loves his friends so so dearly. Will get angry a la Beware The Nice Ones if you hurt them though the first thing he’ll do is comfort them/try to cheer them up.

He loves Stars Hollow but being the only aroace person he knows of there ( and fielding well intentioned “are you sures?” and “oh honey you’ll find someone someday”s and just..alot of early 2000s Star Hollow-ness ( “Hey kiddo you gonna bid on a basket this year?” “oh you’re getting handsome, gonna find yourself a girl for the starlight festival?” “is he..youknow?” is just...a lot? He wants to spread his wings and find his place/people like him/feel less isolated.

He still loves his town though as its his home and raised him his sister and in a way his mother. He visits while he’s at Yale ( the distance helps tremendously as does the ability to just...leave again) like Rory and says hi to Miss Patty and Gypsy and Andrew ( he loves Andrew omg. One of the few people who didn’t just assume he and Rory were always reading the same books) He helps the 30-Something gang find jobs/fine tune resumes  though im not including anything else form ayit and checks in how they’re doing bc..its still his town. They’re his family. “my nuts-o, extended...well meaning but sometimes overly invested and too-pushy-and-slightly-overbearing family.” even as he dreams of getting out a lot and once he does he...really likes it. He loves them

He goes to Yale because Rory goes to Yale (because again the whole Learning To Be Independent From Your Twin...kind of a slow process for him) and gets sibling-adopted by Finn and Colin  in a turn of events he’s pretty much confused over like im p sure they were like “hes ours now” and Elliot was like “im ...you’re...w..what?” and Logan who Knows Finn and Colin is like “don’t fight it” and lowkey adopted him too.

Im cutting myself off bc this got Long and im sorry lol

Thank you so much for the ask <3

send me a ✨ and i’ll tell you about a random OC

[maergheritas-moved]

S L A Y E R S, a novel by margarita p. g.

CHAPTER 00 - OLIVER

For being under Marco’s wing for a few weeks now, Oliver still hasn’t managed to master “the art of repair” even a little bit. He’s realized, instead, that he really isn’t good at this, that his nimble hands that once, in his younger years, served him for pickpocketing, for dumbkres with his mates, don’t work for handing tiny bot parts. It sucks, really… Marco thought Oliver would be of some use. And Oliver did, too. A part of him, a small part, maybe hoped that this stay would be permanent. 

But, like all things in his life, it soon proved to be nothing but momentary. He realized this on a burning hot summer morning, when the sun was high and the sulfur in the air even higher. He was only getting used to the life in Bajo then, trying to find a place amongst the renegades and runaways, and the many generations and cultural legacies found within the ancient walls of his new tiny town. The locals knew him as escurridizo, a nod to his late night appearances literally anywhere in town… he had the ability to slip out of where he was and be somewhere else in what looked like seconds. Lightning speed. Faster than a teleporter. Some people even thought he was one. He very much was not. That much he knew. 

Oliver woke up late that June morning, to the high-pitched whirring of centuries-old engines. He had hoped to get some rest after his rendezvous with Rory last night. But, as the heroes in video games would say, duty called. So, he got himself out of bed, put his sandals on, helped himself to burnt toast and already cold coffee, and headed to the taller. 

There lay Marco, working on his new project: the restoration of a humanoid bot found by some archeologists a couple of miles from here. It was clearly a very, very old model, and Marco had been promised a very large sum of money if he restored it back to working condition. Maybe the archeologists were planning to take it to a museum or a college or something like that, Oliver thought. 

It was very large, probably over three meters tall, and had a masculine shape. To Oliver, it looked like the military droids he saw on films. 

The military humanoid death machine thing lay with its stomach part open on the table, and by the smell of coltan in the air, Oliver knew Marco was dealing with the motherboard. It was definitely from the 22nd century, maybe early, when they still put moderboards on the torso and not the head. Marco had his microglasses on, and was very intently working on opening something really really small. There was soft jazz music playing somewhere, which, mixed with the birds chirping and the sound of schoolboys close, painted a picture in Oliver’s head that resembled a time when everyone was still together and life was easy. He let the memory wrap him under. 

An order from Marco pulls him back to reality. “Hey, nene,” he says, not even a hello beforehand, “can you check this wiring for me please?”

Without a word, Oliver walked over to the table, where the chemical smell is almost uncomfortable, and looked at the tangle of loose wires on the open motherboard. They were color coded, thank god. To Oliver, non-colored coded wires were the reason God left the Earth. Marcus and him always took hours to set them right. Almost instantly, he got a vague idea of how the circuits should go. They were like magnets, and he could feel where one ended and the other began, the many channels of energy running through the bot’s body, like blood rushing down veins. He had an instinct for this sort of things, a sixth sense, and it was hardly ever wrong. Oliver knew this wasn’t exactly normal, he knew it since he was a kid and could feel the many forces coming onto him way more than other people could, but he was not a might. Or at least, not a bolter (he’d already tried; sparks never came out of his palms). Whatever he was, he never gave it much thought. It would not do him good, especially not in this country.

Trusting his weird instinct, Oliver got to work, ordering Marco what went where, offering clear directions and vague explanations. Marco didn’t mind. To him, this boy was some sort of wizard, and not the “evil” kind. He did the work because he knew how to. If Oliver did it himself, he might as well cause a short circuit so strong it left the whole town with no power for a few hours. Oliver never understood why things like this seemed to happen, he guessed the wires just hated him. 

Thus, they fell into a steady rhythm of work, sorting circuits out, monotone actions, with problems coming up as they went along, which they solved together. Oliver and Marco were a good team in that sense, Marco’s vast knowledge mixing with Oliver’s knack for improvisation to come up with increasingly creative solutions. These came naturally to Oliver. No one had ever given him a book on how to life, so everything he’d learned, he learned it by doing. By figuring things out, just like they were at that moment. Maybe he could be of use there, he thought. The idea of having a place to stay, even if he didn’t realize it then, gave him comfort. 

Time passed quickly when you were at work, and soon it was time for lunch. Marco called a break, and Oliver lifted his head from the wiring of the bot’s eyes that he was attempting to figure out. 

“Hungry?” Marco asked. Oliver nodded. He was, indeed, starving, and had been for a while, but with the task in front of him, it had been a second thought in his mind. 

“Alright, then, uhhhh” Marco thought out loud. “Mara won’t be home until tonight, and there’s nothing from last night”. 

Bummer, Oliver thought. Would they have something to it until Mara came back? There were days like this, when Aymara, Marco’s wife, was out working twelve hours at the rest stop outside of town. They had to do with whatever leftover there was from breakfast. 

“So, we’re eating crackers, then?” Oliver asked, defeated. 

Marco’s eye brightened up, his torso straightening up a little. “Actually, I think there’s some money in my bedroom. Go get yourself a mixto or whatnot, kid.”

Oliver practically springed to his feet and rushed to Marco’s bedroom. Indeed, there was money in his dresser, enough to buy two mixtos and maybe a sugary. With that, Oliver rushed out of the house and into the secluded Clovel Street. 

The sun burned his skin, and he definitely should not have been out in this weather, but he was hungry and Lala’s tiny shop in the corner was open. There were a few neighbors having tartitas, who said hi to him. He went up to Arpy, the AI assistant, and ordered two mixtos, one for Marco and one for him. They would be ready in ten. 

Oliver sat on the counter, watching Arpy put the mixtos in the toaster, and looked out the door, where there was a small stray dog trying to catch a fly. That was when he saw him. 

His stare froze Oliver’s blood, made him paralyze all over. There was something about it…. something stomach-turning, revolting, repulsive, wrong. Like the man had crossed all of Oliver’s boundaries. It felt like a violation, but Oliver didn’t know of what. Or even how. 

He wanted to run away. As far as his legs allowed him. That’s what his mind told him to do, that the man was a predator just like the MIMIC or the police. But his body told him otherwise. His body told him to stay; he felt a pull to the man like those of his wires, he did not care what fate met him there, what the man might bring him, he just had to go. It was impertinent, urgent. Now. 

Yet, he stayed seated, watching his mixtos slowly get browner and cheesier, focusing on repelling that driving instinct within him, that… whatever he was doing to him. Sweat rolled down his brow and the people of the shop were completely unfazed or perhaps even unaware of whatever was going on between him and the man down the street, what strange energetic transaction was taking place Because it felt like that. It felt like electrons pushing down orbitals and moving, shifting, mixing, reacting, exploding. He felt like that: like a nuclear bomb that would go off if the man didn’t do anything about it first. He tried breathing. He tried focusing on anything else, on the smell of the food or the sound of cheese burning or the conversations taking place behind him. Nothing worked. 

When his mixtos were ready, he grabbed them and rushed outside, without even saying goodbye. Without thinking, he crossed the street, to the man. It felt eternal. And the man’s eyes…. they followed him. Wide and large and dark, open, focused… they felt, to Oliver, that they were feeding on his energy. 

Oliver let out a shaky breath when he got to him. He was at least a head taller than Oliver, could crash him in a split second, and very, very dark. His demeanor was unexpectedly calm. His eyes loosened for a bit, and Oliver was terrified for a half second. Then, his large hand wrapped over Oliver’s frail arm, and he hitched a breath in fear. He could not form words. The energy-sucking man started walking him down the street in double time. How is no one seeing this? Oliver thought. 

He wanted to ask so many things, who are you, where are you taking me, leave me alone, I have to get back home, but he couldn’t. If he did, what would this guy do to him? He was scary, villain-level scary. So, Oliver just went along. He got thrown into the back of a white transport. There was a brunette woman on the shotgun seat. Her eyes looked even more threatening than the man’s. 

They were kidnapping him. God, they were going to throw im on the sea or on a deep pit and let him die there. Immediately, Oliver started thinking up escape plans. He could still run. The didn’t bind his hands with anything. Dumbasses. 

The man got in the car. The woman was clutching her head, as if she had a migraine. They were discussing something, Oliver realized. But they were not talking. They were doing it through looks. Can she communicate with him in some sort of eye language? Or is it telepathy?

After a while, they both settled down and looked at him. Oliver was going to run. But he also couldn’t. Something kept him from running and this time it wasn’t any of their looks. 

“Sorry about that” the man said, “it’s pretty terrifying, i know, trust me” 

What the hell? Oliver thought. He was apologizing to him?

“I’m Drake, by the way” he said, with a smirk and friendly eyes. Oliver wanted to vomit. 

“And I’m Alyx” the woman said. Her eyes were warm and heavy-lidded, and Oliver had a feeling he should stay as far from her as she could. 

There was a beat of silence. “Who… Who are you and what… why…?” Oliver tried to speak, tried to form questions, but he didn’t know where to start. 

“Um, in short, kid,” Drake said, shifting in his seat. He opened his mouth, closed it again. “Okay, so: We are from the Cali Might Army. I’m Lieutenant Colonel Drake Emerson and she’s Officer Alyx Warren. That’s the important thing”.

Oliver gaped in awe at them. They were the Might Army. He had never met them, no one has, but he has certainly heard of them; in late night horror stories and headlines detailing tragedies. People spoke of them as violent, relentless insurgents who would abuse of their monstrous abilities to overtake the country. They almost seemed too powerful to be real. They couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real. Is it a prank? 

Alyx looked at Drake. “He’s very confused, he’s saying… it’s a prank or something, um…”

Oliver panicked. Immediately he tried to open the door, tried to break the window, anything to get away from this… woman. She was reading his thoughts! Has she always been doing that? He didn’t even feel it, she just walked into his mind without even asking for permission. 

Drake reacted immediately, moving to pin him down, stop him. Oliver was on fire, his legs kicking to get away, powerless against Drake’s weight, screaming and panting and crying, he only now realized he was crying. 

“Oliver!” Alyx yelled. “Oliver. Please. Please calm down, I don’t want to calm you down, please don’t make me calm you down.” She was as panicked as he was. Oliver just failed to form curses at her and kept kicking. He was not going to calm down. He was going to get away, these people couldn’t mean well. He had to get back to Marco, to the work, have lunch. 

But he would never get there. 

With Drake Emerson pinning him down and Alyx  Warren in his mind, plus the thousand questions that grew by the second, he would never get there. Ever. 

After a while, Oliver sat in the car seat, unmoving and breathing heavily, powerless. Alyx and Drake were in their seats, panting. Alyx let out a curse. 

“Listen,” Drake said, softly, calm, “we won’t hurt you. Really.”

You already have, Oliver thought. “Then… why are you doing this? Why are you taking me?” he asked over shaky breaths.

“Because,” Alyx  started, voice trembling, “You have a very strange ability that no one has ever had before, and you might really, really, be of help for us.”

Oliver wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore. 

Alyx continued. “So, you’re coming with us, because, if you don’t, then someone else will take you, and you won’t be safe and neither will the world.”

TAGLIST (ask to be added/removed!): @andromdae @rapunzelles @herondalelucies @posideon @mayaeri @vicisse @pnstaudt @themillionthdraft @ditzysworld @vandorens @partheneos   

[firsttime-writer]

Hi can I request for Logan x reader x Jess? Where they are both fighting for you.

I’m still sorry I got the pairing wrong but here you go! its long as fuck and I’m bad at love triangles lmao @mywckdmnd

(basically in this version, rory and dean dont get back together after the first breakup when he says i love you)

You hadn’t been working at Lukes since you were 13. He knew you needed money, living alone with a mother who doesn’t quite care as much as a mother should, but we’re so mature at that age that you wouldn’t take charity. So he let you serve food and take orders and paid you under the table in cash. 

He was probably paying you more than he would a normal waitress but at 13 you were too young to know better and too happy that you would have money for school supplies AND groceries that month. 

Now you were 17 and had been working at the diner for years.

When Dean first moved to town, he started coming to Lukes every once in a while after school. You thought it was to see Rory more, and at the time you were right.

They started dating, and you had bigger things to worry about than what could have been with the boy you never knew well enough to have a crush on.

After a while, he and Rory broke up, and Dean avoided Lukes as to not start ANOTHER fight with the owner, and you did what you always do. You kept working.

Eventually, Dean started coming back in when things cooled off, he and Rory were on good terms, just not together. And Dean had his eye on a certain girl who never seemed to stop working. 

The two of you never talked much outside of a business interaction at Lukes and that time you were paired up for a project at school.

But now Dean was always around, chatting with you when the Diner was less full, helping you carry your books at school, and walking you home at night when you helped Luke close up.

And to be honest, you didn’t hate the attention. It was nice to have someone to talk to and hang out with that wasn’t Luke. He may be like a father to you but he’s not quite the conversationalist. 

And so you and Dean got close. When you weren’t working or at school (which is not that often), you were with him and you were laughing and smiling more than ever.

Dean was always there to pull you away from the bad stuff for a while. When Luke wouldn’t let you overwork yourself anymore, you ran out of schoolwork to distract yourself with, and you needed a reason to stay away from all the crap that comes from being home, Dean would sweep you away to a home-cooked dinner with his family, and a movie night at the Black White and Red. Dean was your first friend in a long time and your only friend from just before your 16th till you were 17.

And then Jess came to live with his uncle. 

Despite the fact that he could be a little bit of a jerk sometimes, you get it. The burden of a shitty parent is a tough one, and you empathize. 

And the fact that he lives with Luke, and eventually started working with you, meant that the two of you saw a lot of each other. 

The closeness was unavoidable. You still saw Dean lots, but because of work you ended up seeing a lot more of Jess and it showed. 

The two of you had a rhythm when you worked. Despite the bickering between uncle and nephew, the diner still had a way of flowing between you all. 

Jess was touchy with you. You didn’t make anything of it because you didn’t know any better. How were you to know he wasn’t like that with anyone else?

When you moved between tables at the same time, his hand was on your hip, when you switched tripped on someone’s foot he always seemed to have a steadying hand on your lower back, and when your hands were full and your hair fell into your eyes, he would push it back behind your ear when you walked by.

You didn’t notice that he liked you like that. But two people you know certainly did. 

The first was Luke. He had always been protective of you, ever since you came into his store with a handwritten resume and determination in your eyes. He was already wary, knowing Dean had eyes for you. But when he watched Jess pinch your ribs to make you laugh on a slow day at the diner, he knew that you had another suitor. 

He might have actually been even worse than he was when Jess started dating Rory in the show. The talk he gave Jess was 90% threats

“If you even THINK about hurting her, I will know, and I will throw you in the lake again, and then make you live with Taylor Doosey.”

Jess, ever the asshole, brushed it off. But he knew that he would never hurt her. Not her, who understood his issues with his mother and knew how hard the move to Stars Hollow was. Not her, who dug beneath his hard shell so fast that he never even knew it happened until she was there, touching his heart and learning every intimate detail that he never had any intention of sharing. 

Dean was aware of Jess. Jess was aware of Dean. Neither had addressed the tension yet, and you had no idea it was happening at all. 

Eventually, Dean got tired of watching you and Jess being so touchy at work, and Jess got tired of Dean’s arm around you every time he walked you home. 

Just as you were done closing up the Diner, Jess noticed Dean was late.

“Come on, just let me drive you home. If you want we can stop and grab Al’s or something.” 

After a little pestering and the offer that he would pay, you took him up on it. Just as you were about to get in Jess’ car, Dean came around the corner. He spotted you getting in and didn’t seem too happy about it. 

“What the hell are you doing Jess, I can walk her home.”

“Well bag boy, maybe if you showed up on time you would have had that chance!  Come on y/n, Al’s is closing soon.”

You looked between the boys before looking at Dean apologetically. 

“Honestly Dean it’s okay, Jess and I are just gonna grab some food then he will drop me right at my house, promise.”

“No y/n that’s not the point here, the point here is that I like you. I like you a lot and I know Jess likes you too.”

Taken aback, you stared Dean in the face. “you.. you like me?” and then it registered what else he said. 

Whipping around to look at Jess, you gasped. “You like me?”

Jess nodded once, and when you turned back to Dean he scoffed. 

“You must have known. He’s all over you, all the time! I walk you home every night and carry all your stuff wherever we go. You had to have known.”

You shook your head at that, starting to feel angry. 

“Don’t tell me what I must know Dean. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a lot more serious shit in my life outside of two boys liking me. I had no idea.”

Then you heard Jess chuckle under his breath behind you before asking the million-dollar question. “Well, y/n? Who is it gonna be? Either walk home with him, and we go back to being just coworkers because I gotta be honest, I can’t do friends with you. Or. You can get in my car, and we can to Al’s, and I’ll take you home.”

His statement left you a little breathless. You looked to Dean and he sighed. 

“I’m not gonna ditch you if you choose him, but I don’t know if I can spend my every moment with you if I know you chose him Y/n. Its gonna hurt, but we won’t be as close. I can’t be as close because that will hurt way more.”

And so you had your choice. Dean or Jess. Your two best friends in this world. A step away from the car into Dean’s arms, or a step back towards the car, into Jess’ waiting hands. 

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and took a step.

[welcometophu]

Into the Split: Reconstruction 2

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Reconstruction 2

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Nikolai almost expects a celebration in Haverhill the next day, but there is nothing overtly done. Instead there is an air of calm that replaces the anxious expectation that had suffused them all in the recent weeks. In many ways, that’s easier. Nikolai feels like he can finally relax, even if there are still things that he needs to do. The worst of it is over; they have time for the rest.

His home will still be there, his family alive and waiting for him, and that’s the most important thing.

The delegates drift away, most of the older crowd and Clan leaving earlier, while many of the Mages linger. Rory says goodbye to his parents and grandparents, but Valentine stays, her daughter trailing after Alaric like a brightly-caped duckling, while her son lingers around the edges of the PHU crowd, listening intently.

At one point Cass turns to Elijah, her lips pursed. He blinks, as if surprised to gain the regard of one of the older people. “You’re staring,” she says curtly.

“So?” he retorts. “You do the same thing. Besides. I might want to go to PHU someday. I’m studying you.”

“Hmph.” Cass crosses her arms and turns her back on Elijah. At the same time, she takes a step to the right, a little closer to Nate, making space for Elijah in the circle.

He hesitates before stepping in and allowing them to include him.

Dayton makes a late entrance, moving as if she doesn’t have a care in the world while the rest of her community’s contingent waits impatiently to start the long drive home. Stormy trails behind her, barefoot and still in a rumpled sleep shirt and shorts. Stormy rubs at her eyes, yawning, stretching just as Dayton turns around and reaches for her.

Stormy falls against her with a small noise that turns to a low rumble as Dayton kisses her, then rubs her cheek against Stormy’s. Dayton sets her back on her feet, and Stormy sways slightly, her cheek flushed from the attention.

“I knew that was flirting when you met her,” Rory mutters.

“It wasn’t, not then, but oh man, she is fun,” Stormy admits. “It’s probably not a long-term thing, but it is going to be a good time every time we meet up. When are you planning on staging another crisis? I’ll pencil in another round of crisis survival sex.”

Mac coughs around a laugh while Rory looks pained. “I don’t need the details,” he mumbles, while Stormy nudges him with her shoulder.

“You’re still taking me back to PHU for the festival this weekend, right?” she says. “I promise to behave better than Thorne. Just let me go shower and pack up, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“It’s not hard to behave better than Thorne!” Rory calls after her, and Stormy laughs as she blows him a kiss before walking away.

Heather’s phone pings, and she opens it up, frowning. “I think I’m missing an exam. I don’t even remember an exam being scheduled this week. Why would anyone schedule an exam for election week? Everyone skips classes this week.”

“The professor’s a dick, remember?” Cass mutters. “I’m pretty sure he scheduled it on purpose because everyone still on campus probably got drunk last night.”

“Your absences are excused,” Pawel says. “I spoke to administration and you have all been noted as working on a special project for me, details to be provided upon my return to the school. You’ll be able to make up the exam next week, just in time for finals.”

“Lovely,” Heather mutters. “I didn’t have enough work to do in the next two weeks. Is there any chance they’ll just drop those grades? We did save the world.”

“I don’t think there’s any magic you can work for that one,” Nikita murmurs, her arm around Heather’s back. “But that’s okay. We just need to get through the tests—we can scream a lot during primal scream time—and then we get a whole summer off.”

“Some of us have to work for the summer,” Rory points out.

“You’re touring,” Nikita counters.

“That’s work! Have you ever set up heavy equipment, then spent an hour performing on a hot stage, and then lugged that heavy equipment off stage again so you could pack it up before getting stuck in a small, beat up van for hours on the road? It’s hard work,” Rory grumbles. “Plus it stinks. And I think Andy’s fiancé is coming along with us, and that’s just going to make all the arrangements at the motels messy. Plus we have an album to record. That we need to write songs for.”

Someone else counters with an example of working on a farm for the summer, and someone else complains about serving ice cream to hoards of small children. It’s all outside of Nikolai’s frame of reference, but it sounds like it’s normal for them.

Seth wraps his arms around Nikolai, whispering, “I’m looking forward to getting back to Havenhill and getting our own jobs. It’ll be hard work there, but it’ll be safe. Imagine what it’s going to be like when nothing’s chasing us, and the world isn’t falling into darkness.”

It sounds like bliss.

“Dax!” Cass’s voice breaks through the low chatter as Dax comes into the room. His light jacket is unzipped, hanging open, and his curly hair is windswept. He smiles, and there’s something lighter in his expression as he approaches Cass, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her quickly.

“Well?” Alaric asks.

“It’s done,” Dax says, his smile infusing his tone. “Orson’s settled, finally. He might still be around; I get the impression he wanted to stick around for you and Drea, if you want him to. But he’s not worried about war anymore. If he’s worried about you in general, that’s something you’ll have to solve yourself. If you go there to talk, he might be listening.”

“Is there a point, if he can’t talk back?” Alaric growls softly. Chris’s hand on his back stops him from stepping forward, but his expression is gloomy.

“Would it make you feel better?” Dax asks.

Alaric rocks back, gaze dropping.

“Let’s take a walk,” Chris says quietly. “We don’t have to leave right this second, and I don’t mind heading out there.” He slides his hand into Alaric’s and waits.

Alaric huffs, a disgruntled sound. “Thanks,” he grumbles before he turns away.

“Hey.” Carolyn touches Nikolai’s arm. “Can we talk for a second? Before we all get into cars and things get even more chaotic than they already feel.”

Nikolai glances at Seth; with his tacit approval, they both head for the back of the house and Carolyn follows them outside.

They sit on the bench that says for cats.

“Del left early,” Carolyn says quietly. “She woke me up before she went, but Sam and Shawn wanted to get home, and I think they were worried that if she stayed, she’d go back into the Dreamscape.”

“They think taking her home is going to change that?” Nikolai knows Carolyn understands from the way she smiles. “I don’t think anything will keep Del out of the Dreaming.”

“It wasn’t always about that for her,” Carolyn admits. “A long time ago we were very different people. We’re still trying to catch up with who we are now. But yeah, she’ll be there. She said to tell you that she’ll stay in touch with you, and that she promises not to get lost.”

Nikolai isn’t sure he believes that. He thinks the Dreamscape is a siren’s song to Del, something that wants to pull her in. It’s different from how it usually is for other Dreamwalkers who want to pull the Dreamscape into the real world instead. “You can tell her I’ll come find her after I’m home,” he promises in return. “But first Seth and I have to figure out how to get home.”

“Actually.” Carolyn twists her hands together. “I have a favor to ask you. Before you go.”

Nikolai can’t think why she’s nervous, unless…. “Does it involve staying? Because we really don’t want to unless we’re stuck,” he admits. “You’ve got a lot of good things here, but home has Josef and Mikhail.”

A soft, rough laugh. “No, I know you want to go, and I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine being somewhere separated from Kit, and yes, we’re twins, so maybe it’s different, and actually that—” She looks at him sideways. “Have you thought about what it’ll be like to be apart from Nikita now?”

“We aren’t that kind of close.” The words come easily, because they aren’t. Not like twins who were raised together, and not even like his brothers, despite the years when Nikolai thought they were dead. “It’s more like we’re the same person, not like siblings.” He likes Nikita, but he can handle the idea of being in a different world again. That seems more right than how they are now.

“I’d actually like to take a look at that scientifically.” Carolyn’s fingers tighten where they’re tangled in her lap. “This probably isn’t a thing in your world anymore; maybe it was before the Split. But we do a lot of genetic testing. People can send off their spit and have it come back with a report saying whether they’re related. People are always trying to find out their genetic heritage, or seeking out lost relatives. But I was thinking that I’d like to see how you and Nikita are related. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Does it hurt?” Nikolai asks. When Carolyn shakes her head, he adds, “Is it dangerous?”

“Not at all. It’d just be a blueprint for who you are, and nothing really could be done with it.” Carolyn wrinkles her nose. “It might cause some confusion with the government since technically you don’t exist, but that’s what Sera’s for, I think. We can have her take care of things.” Her shoulders are still hunched and tense. “If you’re leaving, you probably won’t ever find out what—”

“Tell Del, have her tell me if you want to make sure I have that kind of closure,” Nikolai suggests. “You’ve already said she and I have a date to lie around in the meadow and watch butterflies, right?”

Carolyn’s shoulders soften as she laughs. “Right. I guess you do. I think—this might tell us something more about the genetics of Talent. Which I really would like to know more about, even though that’s not my field. I think it’ll help Kit, though. He wants to be a doctor. And I want to study why people do what they do, and sometimes knowing how things work helps. And the more we know about these twinned worlds—”

“The more of them you can go off and save?” Nikolai asks.

Carolyn gives him a startled look. “That’s not—”

“You said your Traveling is linked to the same kind of Talent that Dreamwalkers have and Shadowwalkers have, right?” It makes a kind of sense to Nikolai. “Now that the Split isn’t a pit of darkness, maybe it’s something you can use, too. Maybe you’re more like a traditional Shadowwalker than the corrupted kind that had been Emerging, and that’s why you couldn’t figure out how you fit in.”

“I—” Carolyn cuts off, her mouth slightly open.

Nikolai figures that’s a thought for later, because it might take Carolyn some time to come to terms with it. He reaches over, covers her tightly clasped hands with his own and squeezes. “Maybe I’ll see you again someday, too. I’m not sure I can say I’m glad about all of the things that have happened, but I’m glad we met, and I’m glad we were able to help each other here.”

He rises, Seth coming with him. When Nikolai reaches, Seth’s hand is there, fingers tangling together like they’ve always fit.

Carolyn stays where they left her, head bowed, brow furrowed.

“Do you want us to tell someone—”

Carolyn shakes her head. “Pretty sure Kit won’t let them leave without me,” she says quietly. “I’m just going to sit here and think for a little bit.”

“That was a hell of a theory to drop on her,” Seth whispers as they walk back into the house. Voices come from the front and they head in that direction so they can catch up with their ride back to PHU. “I didn’t even think of it.”

“I might be wrong,” Nikolai says. He doesn’t think he is, though. The more he rolls it over in his head, the more sense it makes. And he suspects that’s how they made it from one world to another in the first place. She might not be able to control it now, but he suspects that Carolyn is some kind of hybrid Shadowwalker that let her use the Split as it was. And hopefully as it is, eventually, too.

Valentine stands in the hall, meeting them before they can get to the crowd at the front. “I spent some time talking to Alaric,” she says.

“About Havenhill?” Seth asks, nodding as soon as he asks. “Okay, yes, about Havenhill.”

“Empaths are honestly a little disturbing,” Valentine replies. She looks down the hall, then motions for them to move into the great hall. It’s empty and echoing, aside from some tables around the edges, and a few chairs.

Nikolai really isn’t in the mood to sit down for another serious conversation again. “He told you about Val?”

“My counterpart that’s married to Alia’s counterpart? Yes,” Valentine agrees. “And that I apparently helped create this safe haven, and that I’m Alia’s right hand there, and her reasonability. And that I told you to leave.”

“It was a group decision, I think,” Nikolai says. “And we didn’t argue it. We broke the wards and let the Shadows in. We broke the rules of Havenhill.”

“Do you get to go back?” Valentine asks.

Seth laughs dryly.

“If we can figure out how,” Nikolai admits. “Why?”

Valentine stands with arms akimbo, hands resting on her hips and wrists bent with her elbows wide. She turns on her heels, looking out over the large room. As she exhales, tight shoulders lower and loosen, although her stance remains stiff. “Do you think you can carry anything back with you? I’d like to send you some research to give to the me of your world. They’re things I’d understand, and things I might not have thought of because we’re just different enough.”

“If we can carry it, maybe,” Seth says slowly. “Or if we read it, we might remember enough.”

Valentine makes a small displeased noise. “I think it’s going to be more than you’ll want to memorize. And you aren’t traditional Mages. You don’t know the Rituals and if you make mistakes when translating it through your memory, it might not go well when Val tries to use it. I’ll email Pawel. He can print it, and if you can carry it, fine. If not, well, I tried.”

“And what about here?” Seth asks.

Valentine turns back slowly, her weight resting on one heel as she turns. “What about here?”

“You’re going to work toward forging a relationship with Alia now, right?” Seth says firmly. “We may have pushed out the darkness created by the Shadows, but you still have a government out there that created them in the first place. You’re going to need each other.”

“What kind of relationship do you mean?” Valentine says curtly.

Seth raises his eyebrows. “The alliance kind. She’s married. I’m guessing you have a husband somewhere—”

“We divorced,” Valentine interrupts.

Seth makes a motion with his hand as if that isn’t important. “I’m not saying to get involved with her romantically. But befriend her. Forge that alliance between here and Burlington, the same one that Alaric already started.”

Valentine rocks backwards, turns away again as her hands slowly fall from her hips to hang by her sides. “We’ve started, too. I met with Theobald yesterday, and with Alaric, and we aren’t going to stay separate. We need each other, you’re right. The world needs to change, and I’m ready for that. From what I’ve heard of your world, it sounds like that change was pivotal to helping keep Talented people safe. We aren’t as endangered, but there are things here, as well. Like the virus that broke out in New Hampshire. Like the Shadows. Like the old histories between us that we could repeat again if we don’t watch out. So yes.” She turns back slowly. “We’ve made our alliance. This might not be your Havenhill, but we will work on creating a haven, both here and in Burlington, and possibly amongst the other communities as well. We are bringing our world together.”

Seth hesitates, his expression intent as if he’s trying to read her. He finally nods, and reaches back to tug Nikolai forward. “I think we’re all set, then. I’m glad things are in good hands here.”

Valentine doesn’t ask before stepping forward, her arms around both of them as she tugs them in. It feels awkward and strange, as she kisses first Seth’s cheek, then Nikolai’s. This Valentine is much more open—much less hardened—than their Val.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Valentine says. “Give her time to warm up to you. And to relax. I can imagine what she’s like.”

“You should see Alia,” Nikolai mutters.

Valentine laughs at that.

She keeps her arms around them as they move through the house and out to the front, where most of the cars are gone, but a few still linger. Pawel stands with Alia, his hand out and clasped in hers. She stands almost relaxed, her shoulders rested and loose as they speak quietly before Pawel finally draws back.

He looks up at waves as Nikolai and Seth emerge from the house. “I’d wondered if I was going to have to go find you. Mac’s already in the car. Ready to go?”

Pawel still looks like he’s half a ghost. His skin is pale, his eyes darkly rimmed in shadows. But there’s a life to his step that’s been missing, and Nikolai suspects that he’s slept more than anyone else. Which is good; he needed it.

Nikolai pauses by the car to take one last look at the big house. Alia stands on the step, as Valentine turns to go inside. It’s familiar, but not, and Nikolai hopes that the next time he sees something similar, he’ll be home.

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[village-skeptic]

on “having it both ways”: thinking about S2 and looking ahead to S3

So apparently once a year I end up latching on to Riverdale pre-season promo and having WAY TOO MUCH to say about it.

Image analysis, pop-culture riffing, S2 criticism, meditations on resistant reading, my own discomfort with “wrongfully accused” narratives in this particular historical moment, and some hopes on the literal eve of the S3 premiere, below the cut...

So, last week when this piece of promo dropped, the very first thing that I thought of was the visual reference to Chicago and the Cell-Block Tango.

(I didn’t do it! - but if I’d done it? - how could you tell me that I was wrong?)

HOW perfect is that homage? The red lighting, the raised arms? The promo still just FEELS like a snapshot from a Fosse dance routine. (A little more on legendary choreographer Bob Fosse here.)

It’s a defiant pose, right in the center of the frame, but a slightly vulnerable one at the same time. There’s nothing hidden here; everything’s on display. The pose draws the viewer’s eyes inescapably to the body - a muscled body, but one which here seems like a gymnast or dancer’s body: lithe figure, tapered waist, power that is channeled into performance.

(this is tasty; this is plenty; this is hungry work)

So, on a first pass, insofar as it puts this demonstrative male body on display, it’s a little bit of a subversive image, I think. And that’s well in line with the way that Riverdale so often courts the female (and/or gay male) gaze, and at its best does some really unusual stuff with masculinity. 

I thought about all of this - and then, silly me, I saw that this piece of promo was NOT a still, but is, instead, a short clip. 

Archie doing pull-ups on the prison bars, as another heavily muscled dude saunters behind him, reads to me like a completely different type of performance! To the degree that it invites the eye, it sends the message: don’t fuck with me. In motion, we have purely the pursuit of greater strength, the purging of weakness in favor of the means of self-protection. 

Instead of Chicago, my mind jumps to 3x01′s title source: Fortune and Men’s Eyes. Dominate or be dominated. 

Realistically, I’m willing to believe that the ambiguous interpretation here between “still” and clip is just a quirk of how it happened to be uploaded to Twitter by a social media intern. 

Still - the interpretative gulf between the still image and the image in motion got me thinking how often Riverdale seems to want to “have it both ways,” and what that does to the audience’s experience and expectations of the show.

For instance:

Other people have written at length about how Riverdale’s pursuit of aesthetic homage or plot contrivance has created character inconsistencies that occasionally baffle. Cheryl is alternately a tragic Gothic heroine and a lacquered, ruthless Mean Girl; Jughead is both a sensitive loner writer and also a bad-boy gang leader; Betty is both Betty and Dark Betty. (GOD.)

Other folks have discussed how the show needs to really play out the consequences of conflicts between the characters. It’s not that the show shouldn’t drop bombshells like the Bughead breakup(s) or the conflict between Betty and Veronica/Jughead and Archie, but it seems all too willing to reset back to milkshakes in a booth at Pop’s without doing enough work to explain WHY things are okay again. (See also: resolving major conflicts between characters literally with a song.)

The desire to “have it both ways” also really shows up in the show’s tendency to engage complicated issues (racism, sexism, colonialism, the prison-industrial complex) on a shallow level - thus getting credit for mentioning them, without really taking the time to explore them meaningfully or to explain the characters’ investment in them. 

The result of this, in terms of storytelling, is that you leave a lot of room for resistant (even combative) readings of the text to emerge. To name a few of my own:

frustration with Jughead’s acceptance of what feels like a suuuuper patriarchal role as “the Serpent Prince” (and later King)

the fact that it’s really hard to sympathize with Veronica throughout entire swathes of season 2

a profound opposition to a storyline that sexualizes Betty’s mental health issues in a really exploitative fashion

And then... there’s Archie.

In the “Cell Block Tango,” the murderesses of Chicago (bar one) get to justify their crimes. Conversely, as we open the third season of Riverdale, the audience knows that Archie’s being blamed for something he didn’t do. Despite bragging about it (!!) to a bunch of mobsters (!!!!), Archie is not guilty of the murder of Cassidy Bullock. 

...but he IS guilty of so! many! other! things! across Season 2. I’m sure I’m forgetting some, but aiding and abetting a criminal, covering up a murder, blowing up a car, and forming an extralegal vigilante militia group - TWICE - all come to mind. 

The last bits of S2 offer us a version of Archie’s amends-making that comes in the form of defending the Serpents, turning on Hiram, supporting his father, et cetera. And then the very last image of S2 - Archie being clapped in cuffs right at the moment that he’s supposed to be sworn into office - is meant to distress us.

But a season of watching Archie embrace fascism leaves some marks, y’all. And a not insignificant portion of the audience, still frustrated with the character’s choices, couldn’t help but say - well, he had it coming.

So, yeah. It’s been a few months between the close of S2 and the open of S3, and in most cases that would be enough time for me to sit with the story in and of itself, to consider more broadly where it had failed or succeeded, and to allow some of that “resistant reader” response to drain away.

But real talk, you guys: I’m finding it really hard right now, at this moment in American history, to connect emotionally with the story of a young man trying to fight the charges of which he has been wrongfully-yet-ever-so-plausibly accused.  

[Please note, I am NOT trying to say that RAS is somehow trying to weigh in explicitly on the SCOTUS debacle. The S2 finale laying the groundwork for this plot aired this spring, and S3E1 has (presumably?) been in the can for a while now. And, to its credit, Riverdale has in both seasons explicitly criticized a sexual culture that objectifies young women and reduces them to “points” (the football team’s playbook) and to prey (Nick St. Clair).]

But, for me personally, I can’t help looking at this plot and hearing echoes of “It's a very scary time for young men in America when you can be guilty of something you may not be guilty of.”

Here’s the interesting thing: I think RAS knows this, and I think the promo around this plot is partially designed to try to dispel these connections. 

(For me, at least, it’s having mixed results.)

(source)

For instance, I can’t look at this still (young man, formal suit intended to project good character and youthful vulnerability, sullen face, flanked by counsel) without thinking, “Wow, this feels....Brock Turner-y.” 

I don’t know if anyone’s written about courtroom photos and sketches as a genre of visual composition, but I feel like I’ve seen variations of the Riverdale still a million times, often printed on the front page of the local university newspaper, discussing the controversy over the conviction (or NON-conviction) of a promising young athlete accused of something awful that no one who knows him EVER would have suspected he would do. (Nice boy, nice family, so many extracurriculars, such good grades!)

Of course, there’s a major difference between the photos above: Archie’s defense team is entirely female. 

Obviously this makes sense because Mary Andrews and Sierra McCoy are both major supporting characters who are also lawyers - but it also makes sense in trying to dismantle some of the potential gut reactions to this visual framing. There’s some “innocence by association” going on here, I think. And after all, Archie IS innocent of this particular crime!

This still lands with mixed effect for me though, because any defense strategy that suggests the intentional composition of a visual tableau feels inherently cynical, even when the character is sympathetic or innocent. 

For instance: I just watched The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, which features a scene where the main character shows up in the courtroom in full Upper West Side respectable regalia to try to get the obscenity charges against her dismissed - she fails and ends up having to plead guilty, because she mouths off at the judge. Anyone who’s familiar with Amy Sherman-Palladino’s work will recognize this bones of this plot point in the courtroom scene in Gilmore Girls: Rory’s grandparents’/lawyer’s attempt to portray her as a naive little angel backfires, and she ends up getting a ton of community service as penance for stealing a boat. It’s important to note that the characters are both guilty of their charges - although, as another favorite show of mine might note, “the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that.”)

(source | source)

Another way in which the pre-season promo is distancing Archie from both his actions last season, and the present context external to the show, is to emphasize his profound contrition. In this teaser from Riverdale 3x01, we get Archie declaring that “whatever happens to me in the courtroom on Tuesday - that is what I deserve.” This a statement of universal guilt and responsibility (one might say martyrdom?) that goes well beyond the scope of his actual infractions.

Now - I really, really appreciate that we’re getting a sad Archie rather than a mad Archie. And I want to acknowledge that he’s so definitely a kid here, trying hard to “man up” and to grapple with the fact that he screwed up big time and that there are consequences for his actions. After a season of doing the wrong thing over and over and OVER again, he’s trying to do the right thing. 

But here’s the thing: Fred responds to this confession of near-universal guilt with what (in this snippet) feels like a pair of universally-exculpatory statements: “You are a good kid. You got manipulated by a mobster.” (Mary is more nuanced: “You do not deserve to be framed for murder.”)

Archie does not deserve to be framed for murder, and he certainly did get manipulated by a mobster. In fact, I would like to formally start a petition to have Archie not fall under the control of an unscrupulous adult in S3!

However. 

Instead of accepting guilt for anything and everything and being immediately absolved for non-specific sins because of his inherent “goodness,” I really want to know that Archie understands what he actually DID do last season. He climbed wholeheartedly on board with the plan to Make Riverdale Great Again, and in that process, he did things that were NOT AT ALL commensurate with being “a good kid.” I think both the character and the show would benefit from a more explicit meditation on exactly why Hiram’s manipulation was so effective, and why Archie moved so quickly past being merely Hiram’s pawn, and voluntarily embraced the role of Hiram’s very ambitious accomplice. 

One of the specific preconditions of restorative justice is that the offender has to acknowledge their actions and the hurt that they caused. Reconciliation and vagueness are incompatible for so many reasons, but one of them is because a BIG part of learning from your mistakes is thinking precisely about what you did so that you can choose not to do it again.

I read a bunch of the new Archie comics over the break, and I think I now have a greater appreciation for the trope of Archie as a schlemiel. Despite his best intentions, the Archie archetype keeps making the same goofy, klutzy mistakes over and over again. This is fine, even funny, when it means that Archie just keeps accidentally ending up with a bucket on his head. Whoops! 

It is super not okay if it means that Archie just keeps finding himself supporting fascists. ...whoops?

(At present, my entire country is being “manipulated by mobsters.” Clearly, I have some feelings about this.)

I don’t actually know how to wrap all the loose ends of this analysis up meaningfully and coherently at the finish here - but then again, that probably puts me into good company with our showrunners. Optimistically, I’m going to hope that that’s intentional - that I’m judging in media res, and that plotlines and character arcs in S3 will weave together in a way that will surprise and delight me! 

But mostly, I’m going to reiterate my hope that S3 makes meaningful choices. That the people in charge don’t waste their actors’ time filming oodles and oodles of material that gets sliced and diced to ribbons. That they make choices EARLY about major plot points; that they stick to them; and that they let the rising action and falling action of your narrative reflect those choices, and the consequences that naturally accompany them. 

I hope that the people in charge of S3 will resist the ever-present temptation to “have it both ways” - which ultimately works out to really no definitive way at all. Telling a sturdy story is risky in a totally different way than courting controversy - but it’s so, so worth it. 

[darkshrimpemotions]

I AGREE WITH YOU ABOUT MICK SO MUCH, MICK DESERVED SO MUCH MORE FROM THE LEGENDS, ESPECIALLY FROM STEIN AND AMAYA. STEIN AND MICK HAVE COLLABORATED ON SO MANY PROJECT THIS SEASON, AND TIME AND TIME AGAIN MICK HAS PROVEN HIS WORTH TO THE TEAM AND HIS LOYALTY, AND STEIN STILL THROWS A FUSS ABOUT WORKING WITH HIM, AND AMAYA, THE ONE PERSON WHO COULD RELATE TO HIS FAMILY PROBLEMS, STILL DISTANCES HERSELF FROM HIM BECAUSE HE'S A CRIMINAL AND BETRAYS HIM.

THANK YOU.

Like I could understand if Mick had thought he was hallucinating like...Eobard for some reason and told him all the team’s plans, but it was Leonard. Leonard, who Mick trusted. Leonard, who sacrificed everything--including Mick himself at one point--to protect the team. Leonard, who was always scowling and cold on the outside but who was so much more than that underneath. He told their plans to Leonard. Not even a real Leonard, in his mind. A hallucination of Leonard.

And somehow that’s supposed to supply proof, in Stein’s mind, that Mick isn’t really part of the team and doesn’t really fight for them. Uh, okay man. I hope you didn’t pull anything when you were doing that stretch.

Don’t even get me started on the fact that this entire season, Mick has been more withdrawn than usual, drinking more, and hallucinating, and members of the team knew about this--none of them knew all of it necessarily but all of them knew some of it--and they never took ten fucking seconds to really try to reach out to him.

Not Ray, who Mick has literally carried to safety while he was unconscious.

Not Sara, who Mick has literally carried to safety while she was injured, and who is supposed to be the leader of this team besides.

Not Stein, who was the one Mick came to--clearly upset and desperate--about the hallucinations both times.

Not Jax, who Mick has saved more times than I can count.

Not Amaya, who Mick actually bonded with and talked to and shared with.

Not Nate, whose introduction to Mick was Mick rescuing the entire team from being time-scattered.

Not Rip, who is not only the reason they’re in this mess, but who knows better than anyone what the consequences of underestimating and not appreciating Mick Rory are, since he was the one who did it the last time!

Like...this guy has had his mind repeatedly violated, has endured literal lifetimes of torment, because of these people. And they didn’t have the basic human decency to repay him with something other than open scorn and derision repeatedly. 

I’m so mad. The only thing I’m glad about--and it’s a vicious, vindictive sort of happiness, mind--is that apparently all of those horrid, dissonant moments of assholery toward Mick throughout this season were actually intentional and not just the writers misreading their own amazing character, and that now they’re going to make the Legends pay for their shitty treatment of Mick.

I just hope Mick doesn’t end up paying for it too. And that he gets some goddamn compassion from someone, somewhere before this is all over with.

[tinaparkerusa]

This New York Estate is the Most Amazing Historical Home I’ve Ever Stepped Inside

  by Elizabeth Finkelstein

Living in New York’s Lower Hudson Valley, I’m surrounded by incredible old houses. I see them every day; I gawk at them, I take pictures of them, I drag all of my out-of-town guests on long neighborhood walks, and I talk ad nauseam about them. My entire town is eye candy; frankly, it’s why I live here. Every so often, the opportunity presents itself for me to visit an old house being sold nearby. AND I JUMP AT THE CHANCE.   As you probably know by now, the fabulous team over at Houlihan Lawrence has been sending buckets of gorgeous historical home listings our way, which we’ve been lucky enough to showcase on CIRCA. When they asked me to spend a bit of time looking into the story of this amazing estate for sale in Dobbs Ferry (just 15 minutes from my house, and a hop, skip and a jump from New York City), I was practically squealing with delight.   I mean, can you blame me? As much as the photos show off the home’s features, this one really has to be seen to be believed. The texture, overall feeling of history and quality of the materials are just things you can’t capture in a photo.   THIS HOUSE HAS SPOILED ALL OTHER HOUSES FOR ME.     Here’s the thing: I see a lot of amazing old houses, but this one is really special. THIS ONE is much more than just incredible architecture. I actually feel a much deeper personal connection to it, because it reminds me a bit of the home I grew up in. As you all probably know by now, CIRCA comes from a very personal place for me, having been born out my frustration in watching my parents try to market and sell my 1850s Greek Revival childhood home. It was a house that my parents restored with their own two hands, much as the owners of this house did when they purchased it 16 years ago.   My parents’ house was in such bad shape that the realtor who sold them the house said that they were the first people who would even get out of the car when he pulled up with them to show it. Of course, 30 years later, when they went to sell it, it was a showpiece. Yet it was going to take a special buyer—and they had a very hard time finding them. Inspired by my parents’ story, I started CIRCA with the intention to build a large community of people who already loved and understood historical homes. People who couldn’t imagine buying anything BUT an old house.   I digress. Let’s get back to this house. THIS kind of house is why I started CIRCA. Though I have to be honest—when I first drove up to it, it made me a bit nervous. The outside is so unbelievably spectacular that I was bracing myself to be woefully disappointed with the interior (I could already picture the all-white walls and open floor plan).       So, you can imagine my delight when I pushed open the 5-foot wide front door (seriously, it’s the MOST AMAZING DOOR I’VE EVER SEEN) and saw that the inside is even better than the outside.   This is the first thing I saw:       RIGHT!?!?   I have been in a LOT of old houses, but I have never, ever been in an old house like this one. The house has EIGHT WORKING FIREPLACES, one of which is in an inglenook. And when I met the owners (who raised 5 children here), and heard how much love and care went into restoring every single detail in this home, I knew why it felt so special. Because this is a house that has been loved very deeply.   See this? Quarter-sawn oak paneling EVERYWHERE. It’s almost unreal.           A few things were very obvious to me as soon as I stepped inside. For one, I could tell that this house has been meticulously cared for. Having grown up in a restoration project, I can say from experience that you simply cannot restore an old house to this level of detail without becoming familiar with every nook and cranny.   I was struck when I first entered this house at how light it felt despite the dark wood. And the owners told me that the many, many windows were so filthy when they bought the house that you hardly saw any light come through. You can imagine how dark it must have felt. And they restored EVERY SINGLE ONE.       (Another thing you can’t tell from the photos is that the dining room windows have the most beautiful opalescent detailing in this wonderful blueish/purple color. Amazing.)       Also, I could tell right away that this is a house with pedigree, because every single appointment has been meticulously designed. Like many of the old estates along the river, this was built as a summer house. Michael and Mary Van Beuren were the original owners, and they came from extreme wealth; Michael was an heir to the Campbell’s Soup fortune and Mary’s father was the successor to John Rockefeller as CEO of Standard Oil. It was built by a very esteemed architect by the name of Algernon Bell and was known as the “Tee House” and later as “Topside”, and it’s thought that all the little T’s in the stained glass designs are a nod that those names.         I’ll say one final thing about this house, and that is how livable it feels despite its size. No one wants to feel like they’re living in a museum, and in a 9,000 sq. ft house of this stature, it’s a challenge to balance the preservation of history with the comfort of modern convenience. There’s a careful art to that, and it’s something I like to call working with the house. A lot of people TRY to do this, but they don’t get it right. They update the kitchen and bathrooms to the latest trends, and break up the flow of the home. And once that gone, there’s no getting it back.   These owners did not make that mistake, and so it’s difficult to know when you walk around the house which parts are new and which are original. It all just feels right.       The kitchen is newer, and yet it maintains the proportions, the tones and the materials that are carried through the rest of the house. The garage is actually an addition in disguise; it blends so seamlessly with the rest of the house that one would swear it was part of the original configuration.       The icing on the cake? There’s an art studio in the tippy-top. OBSESSED.     Thank you to the amazing team at Houlihan Lawrence for allowing me the opportunity to get to know this incredible property, and here’s hoping it lands in the most loving hands! The asking price is $3,650,000. For more information, contact Rory Tishelman (914.671.1757) or Carolyn Joy (646.246.8949), or visit the full listing on CIRCA or over at Houlihan Lawrence.        

    AUTHOR ELIZABETH FINKELSTEIN

Elizabeth is the founder of CIRCA and a practicing writer, architectural historian and preservation consultant living in Nyack, NY. Elizabeth has loved historic houses for as long as she can remember, having grown up in an 1850’s Greek Revival gem that was lovingly restored by her parents. Elizabeth, her husband Ethan and their beagle Banjo remain on a relentless hunt for their perfect “Thanksgiving house.”

from House Retoration Tips https://circaoldhouses.com/this-new-york-estate-is-the-most-amazing-historical-home-ive-ever-stepped-inside/

[cristinkgarzaky]

This New York Estate is the Most Amazing Historical Home I’ve Ever Stepped Inside

  by Elizabeth Finkelstein

Living in New York’s Lower Hudson Valley, I’m surrounded by incredible old houses. I see them every day; I gawk at them, I take pictures of them, I drag all of my out-of-town guests on long neighborhood walks, and I talk ad nauseam about them. My entire town is eye candy; frankly, it’s why I live here. Every so often, the opportunity presents itself for me to visit an old house being sold nearby. AND I JUMP AT THE CHANCE.   As you probably know by now, the fabulous team over at Houlihan Lawrence has been sending buckets of gorgeous historical home listings our way, which we’ve been lucky enough to showcase on CIRCA. When they asked me to spend a bit of time looking into the story of this amazing estate for sale in Dobbs Ferry (just 15 minutes from my house, and a hop, skip and a jump from New York City), I was practically squealing with delight.   I mean, can you blame me? As much as the photos show off the home’s features, this one really has to be seen to be believed. The texture, overall feeling of history and quality of the materials are just things you can’t capture in a photo.   THIS HOUSE HAS SPOILED ALL OTHER HOUSES FOR ME.     Here’s the thing: I see a lot of amazing old houses, but this one is really special. THIS ONE is much more than just incredible architecture. I actually feel a much deeper personal connection to it, because it reminds me a bit of the home I grew up in. As you all probably know by now, CIRCA comes from a very personal place for me, having been born out my frustration in watching my parents try to market and sell my 1850s Greek Revival childhood home. It was a house that my parents restored with their own two hands, much as the owners of this house did when they purchased it 16 years ago.   My parents’ house was in such bad shape that the realtor who sold them the house said that they were the first people who would even get out of the car when he pulled up with them to show it. Of course, 30 years later, when they went to sell it, it was a showpiece. Yet it was going to take a special buyer—and they had a very hard time finding them. Inspired by my parents’ story, I started CIRCA with the intention to build a large community of people who already loved and understood historical homes. People who couldn’t imagine buying anything BUT an old house.   I digress. Let’s get back to this house. THIS kind of house is why I started CIRCA. Though I have to be honest—when I first drove up to it, it made me a bit nervous. The outside is so unbelievably spectacular that I was bracing myself to be woefully disappointed with the interior (I could already picture the all-white walls and open floor plan).       So, you can imagine my delight when I pushed open the 5-foot wide front door (seriously, it’s the MOST AMAZING DOOR I’VE EVER SEEN) and saw that the inside is even better than the outside.   This is the first thing I saw:       RIGHT!?!?   I have been in a LOT of old houses, but I have never, ever been in an old house like this one. The house has EIGHT WORKING FIREPLACES, one of which is in an inglenook. And when I met the owners (who raised 5 children here), and heard how much love and care went into restoring every single detail in this home, I knew why it felt so special. Because this is a house that has been loved very deeply.   See this? Quarter-sawn oak paneling EVERYWHERE. It’s almost unreal.           A few things were very obvious to me as soon as I stepped inside. For one, I could tell that this house has been meticulously cared for. Having grown up in a restoration project, I can say from experience that you simply cannot restore an old house to this level of detail without becoming familiar with every nook and cranny.   I was struck when I first entered this house at how light it felt despite the dark wood. And the owners told me that the many, many windows were so filthy when they bought the house that you hardly saw any light come through. You can imagine how dark it must have felt. And they restored EVERY SINGLE ONE.       (Another thing you can’t tell from the photos is that the dining room windows have the most beautiful opalescent detailing in this wonderful blueish/purple color. Amazing.)       Also, I could tell right away that this is a house with pedigree, because every single appointment has been meticulously designed. Like many of the old estates along the river, this was built as a summer house. Michael and Mary Van Beuren were the original owners, and they came from extreme wealth; Michael was an heir to the Campbell’s Soup fortune and Mary’s father was the successor to John Rockefeller as CEO of Standard Oil. It was built by a very esteemed architect by the name of Algernon Bell and was known as the “Tee House” and later as “Topside”, and it’s thought that all the little T’s in the stained glass designs are a nod that those names.         I’ll say one final thing about this house, and that is how livable it feels despite its size. No one wants to feel like they’re living in a museum, and in a 9,000 sq. ft house of this stature, it’s a challenge to balance the preservation of history with the comfort of modern convenience. There’s a careful art to that, and it’s something I like to call working with the house. A lot of people TRY to do this, but they don’t get it right. They update the kitchen and bathrooms to the latest trends, and break up the flow of the home. And once that gone, there’s no getting it back.   These owners did not make that mistake, and so it’s difficult to know when you walk around the house which parts are new and which are original. It all just feels right.       The kitchen is newer, and yet it maintains the proportions, the tones and the materials that are carried through the rest of the house. The garage is actually an addition in disguise; it blends so seamlessly with the rest of the house that one would swear it was part of the original configuration.       The icing on the cake? There’s an art studio in the tippy-top. OBSESSED.     Thank you to the amazing team at Houlihan Lawrence for allowing me the opportunity to get to know this incredible property, and here’s hoping it lands in the most loving hands! The asking price is $3,650,000. For more information, contact Rory Tishelman (914.671.1757) or Carolyn Joy (646.246.8949), or visit the full listing on CIRCA or over at Houlihan Lawrence.        

    AUTHOR ELIZABETH FINKELSTEIN

Elizabeth is the founder of CIRCA and a practicing writer, architectural historian and preservation consultant living in Nyack, NY. Elizabeth has loved historic houses for as long as she can remember, having grown up in an 1850’s Greek Revival gem that was lovingly restored by her parents. Elizabeth, her husband Ethan and their beagle Banjo remain on a relentless hunt for their perfect “Thanksgiving house.”

from House Retoration Tips https://circaoldhouses.com/this-new-york-estate-is-the-most-amazing-historical-home-ive-ever-stepped-inside/

[kylejosephus]

This New York Estate is the Most Amazing Historical Home I’ve Ever Stepped Inside

  by Elizabeth Finkelstein

Living in New York’s Lower Hudson Valley, I’m surrounded by incredible old houses. I see them every day; I gawk at them, I take pictures of them, I drag all of my out-of-town guests on long neighborhood walks, and I talk ad nauseam about them. My entire town is eye candy; frankly, it’s why I live here. Every so often, the opportunity presents itself for me to visit an old house being sold nearby. AND I JUMP AT THE CHANCE.   As you probably know by now, the fabulous team over at Houlihan Lawrence has been sending buckets of gorgeous historical home listings our way, which we’ve been lucky enough to showcase on CIRCA. When they asked me to spend a bit of time looking into the story of this amazing estate for sale in Dobbs Ferry (just 15 minutes from my house, and a hop, skip and a jump from New York City), I was practically squealing with delight.   I mean, can you blame me? As much as the photos show off the home’s features, this one really has to be seen to be believed. The texture, overall feeling of history and quality of the materials are just things you can’t capture in a photo.   THIS HOUSE HAS SPOILED ALL OTHER HOUSES FOR ME.     Here’s the thing: I see a lot of amazing old houses, but this one is really special. THIS ONE is much more than just incredible architecture. I actually feel a much deeper personal connection to it, because it reminds me a bit of the home I grew up in. As you all probably know by now, CIRCA comes from a very personal place for me, having been born out my frustration in watching my parents try to market and sell my 1850s Greek Revival childhood home. It was a house that my parents restored with their own two hands, much as the owners of this house did when they purchased it 16 years ago.   My parents’ house was in such bad shape that the realtor who sold them the house said that they were the first people who would even get out of the car when he pulled up with them to show it. Of course, 30 years later, when they went to sell it, it was a showpiece. Yet it was going to take a special buyer—and they had a very hard time finding them. Inspired by my parents’ story, I started CIRCA with the intention to build a large community of people who already loved and understood historical homes. People who couldn’t imagine buying anything BUT an old house.   I digress. Let’s get back to this house. THIS kind of house is why I started CIRCA. Though I have to be honest—when I first drove up to it, it made me a bit nervous. The outside is so unbelievably spectacular that I was bracing myself to be woefully disappointed with the interior (I could already picture the all-white walls and open floor plan).       So, you can imagine my delight when I pushed open the 5-foot wide front door (seriously, it’s the MOST AMAZING DOOR I’VE EVER SEEN) and saw that the inside is even better than the outside.   This is the first thing I saw:       RIGHT!?!?   I have been in a LOT of old houses, but I have never, ever been in an old house like this one. The house has EIGHT WORKING FIREPLACES, one of which is in an inglenook. And when I met the owners (who raised 5 children here), and heard how much love and care went into restoring every single detail in this home, I knew why it felt so special. Because this is a house that has been loved very deeply.   See this? Quarter-sawn oak paneling EVERYWHERE. It’s almost unreal.           A few things were very obvious to me as soon as I stepped inside. For one, I could tell that this house has been meticulously cared for. Having grown up in a restoration project, I can say from experience that you simply cannot restore an old house to this level of detail without becoming familiar with every nook and cranny.   I was struck when I first entered this house at how light it felt despite the dark wood. And the owners told me that the many, many windows were so filthy when they bought the house that you hardly saw any light come through. You can imagine how dark it must have felt. And they restored EVERY SINGLE ONE.       (Another thing you can’t tell from the photos is that the dining room windows have the most beautiful opalescent detailing in this wonderful blueish/purple color. Amazing.)       Also, I could tell right away that this is a house with pedigree, because every single appointment has been meticulously designed. Like many of the old estates along the river, this was built as a summer house. Michael and Mary Van Beuren were the original owners, and they came from extreme wealth; Michael was an heir to the Campbells Soup fortune and Mary’s father was the successor to John Rockefeller as CEO of Standard Oil. It was built by a very esteemed architect by the name of Algernon Bell and was known as the “Tee House” and later as “Topside”, and it’s thought that all the little T’s in the stained glass designs are a nod that those names.         I’ll say one final thing about this house, and that is livable the house feels despite its size. No one wants to feel like they’re living in a museum, and in a 9,000 sq. ft house of this stature, it’s a challenge to balance the preservation of history with the comfort of modern convenience. There’s a careful art to that, and it’s something I like to call working with the house. A lot of people TRY to do this, but they don’t get it right. They update the kitchen and bathrooms to the latest trends, and break up the flow of the home. And once that gone, there’s no getting it back.   These owners did not make that mistake, and so it’s difficult to know when you walk around the house which parts are new and which are original. It all just feels right.       The kitchen is newer, and yet it maintains the proportions, the tones and the materials that are carried through the rest of the house. The garage is actually an addition in disguise; it blends so seamlessly with the rest of the house that one would swear it was part of the original configuration.       The icing on the cake? There’s an art studio in the tippy-top. OBSESSED.     Thank you to the amazing team at Houlihan Lawrence for allowing me the opportunity to get to know this incredible property, and here’s hoping it lands in the most loving hands! For more information, contact Rory Tishelman (914.671.1757) or Carolyn Joy (646.246.8949), or visit the full listing on CIRCA or over at Houlihan Lawrence.        

    AUTHOR ELIZABETH FINKELSTEIN

Elizabeth is the founder of CIRCA and a practicing writer, architectural historian and preservation consultant living in Nyack, NY. Elizabeth has loved historic houses for as long as she can remember, having grown up in an 1850’s Greek Revival gem that was lovingly restored by her parents. Elizabeth, her husband Ethan and their beagle Banjo remain on a relentless hunt for their perfect “Thanksgiving house.”

from House Retoration Tips https://circaoldhouses.com/this-new-york-estate-is-the-most-amazing-historical-home-ive-ever-stepped-inside/

[welcometophu]

Missed Fortunes: Self 3

Twinned Book 2: Missed Fortunes

Self 3

[ Previous | First | Next ]

Sunday is peaceful, and Carolyn’s thankful for a little quiet. Mac leaves the house early in the morning for a taekwondo tournament. Carolyn doesn’t remember where they’re heading today. She just knows that a layer of tension seems to lift from the house once she’s gone, as no one worries about Cass and Mac butting heads again.

They haven’t been arguing constantly, but things haven’t been completely normal between them either. It’s a little like living in the cold war, and everyone’s waiting for another explosion. And while Mac has assured Carolyn that it isn’t coming, Carolyn doesn’t necessarily read the situation that way.

Although Carolyn isn’t particularly good at reading people in general, so she could be wrong. She hopes she’s wrong. Still. With Mac gone, Cass spends the day in the living room, her feet tucked under herself as she reads through a book for class. Carolyn brings her own work down to join her, and the morning passes in a haze of reading through notes and trying to collate everything in a way that gives her more points to research.

It’s tempting to simple travel over to the special collections room and come back with a book so she can work in the comfort of the house, but Carolyn doesn’t want to be that person who uses her Talent to completely get around the law. Getting into the building early is bad enough, but removing books would just be wrong. Instead, she and Cass walk over to the library after lunch so that Carolyn can work there, while Cass keeps her company. Carolyn has no idea what project Cass is working on, but it doesn’t seem to matter as they both work silently.

When they head back to the house, Cass nearly walks into Soledad as she comes out, Trish close behind.

“Hey, we’re just heading over to Teas Please to get something to eat,” Trish calls out. “Since we don’t have a formal dinner this weekend, we figured we’d do something fun tonight.”

Serina’s on shift. Carolyn knows because Serina pauses to text periodically, and sends funny stories about the things people order or the strange stories she overhears in the restaurant. But Trish and Soledad… Carolyn isn’t sure she wants to barge in on any big/little sister bonding time. She glances at Soledad, uncertain.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Soledad encourages. “We’ll make notes for ideas on what we can cook next time it’s our turn.”

“None of us are good cooks,” Carolyn points out. “That’s why we eat a lot of pasta for formal dinners.” It’s true. She remembers her freshman year, when one of the seniors was a History major, specializing in food history, and was an amazing cook. Every four weeks they’d have a great meal, something different every time.

The rest of the time, it’s usually macaroni and cheese or some other form of pasta. It’s easy to make enough for an entire house that way.

“It’s always Teas Please, isn’t it?” Cass says dryly. “But it sounds better than ordering pizza. I’m in.”

Trish glances at Cass, then at Carolyn, and shrugs. “Let’s go.”

There’s a light snow falling as they walk over, and Soledad holds out her hands, catching the flakes on her mittens. “I know you all hate it, but I still love snow. I wish it snowed more.”

“Nikita accidents aside, it’s been a mild winter,” Carolyn agrees. When they’ve had anything more than flurries, the storms have been bad, but she’s fairly certain that every single one of them was caused by Nikita.

“And they say global warming’s a lie,” Cass mutters. She pulls her phone from her pocket, swipes to look at something, then shoves it away again.

“You okay?”

Cass smiles sweetly. “I’m fine. Trish, Soledad, did you have a good weekend? I’ve been buried in reading for my modern women’s lit course. Which is actually a good class—we’ve been following female identifying authors writing any time in the last hundred years, and comparing and contrasting tropes and ideology.”

“I was actually looking at that class, but you have to be a junior or a senior to get in, I heard.” Soledad’s brow furrows. “How did you get in as a sophomore?”

“I explained that I wanted to take it early for my Psychology major,” Cass says. Her voice is lighter now, warming to the topic rather than simply being polite. “The way the class looks at how women write—and how their work is received—is more than just literature. It’s a sociological and psychological look at how we perceive and present our view differently.” She glances over, gestures at Carolyn. “You’d probably love it.”

Carolyn can’t deny that, but she also can’t think when she’d fit it in her schedule with only one year to go, and a thesis to do in that time.

“I’d hate it,” Trish says mildly. She pulls open the door as they arrive at Teas Please. “I love looking at how people think, but I hate dissecting things people wrote. I mean, I write music—I know that every writer puts meaning into their words. But I don’t think we can really know what someone else meant unless we ask them. It’s like how sometimes I write a song, and when it gets popular, everyone thinks I meant something else entirely. Readers and listeners find what they want in words, not necessarily what was put there.”

“That’s part of what we talk about, as well as how the perceptions of literature are different depending on who’s reading, and when they’re reading,” Cass says. “Which is why it’s so interesting. A teenager in the fifties would’ve read something completely different than how we read it today.”

Carolyn tunes them out as they go on, Soledad jumping in periodically. There’s a short wait at the hostess station, but Carolyn doesn’t mind as she scans the restaurant. She spots Nate in his usual section toward the back. He waves and ducks into the kitchen, and a few minutes later Serina emerges and waves cheerfully.

She carries a tray of drinks and pauses at two tables to drop them off and reassure her customers that she’ll be back momentarily for their orders. Then she approaches Carolyn, smiling happily. “Did you come to break up the monotony of my shift?” Serina asks. “I get a break soon. I could come visit you, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Carolyn agrees. She’d ask the others, but the conversation has shifted to discussing some book that she’s never read, and she doesn’t want to interrupt.

Serina looks away, then reaches for menus. “Come with me. Nate’s pointing to a booth in his section, so I’m going to put you there.”

Carolyn taps Trish on the shoulder, and the other three girls trail after, still discussing. When they arrive at the booth, Carolyn waits to let Trish and Cass slide into either side, so she can manage an end seat.

Serina drops the menus on the table. “Nate’ll be over to get your order soon, and I’ll be back with water for you in just a minute when I take my break. Do you want to give me your tea order?” Serina writes down their choices quickly, grins as she taps the pad with her pencil. “Perfect, I’ll be back!”

“Writing songs,” Trish says. Carolyn isn’t sure what she’s responding to, as she apparently returns to an earlier conversation. “Or well, one song, and some music. I was working with Thorne today, because he wanted an opinion that wasn’t Rory for some reason. Plus we decided a while back that we should do some collabs, so we were working on those, too. We want to blind drop an EP of just the two of us singing songs about completely random things—totally innocuous things, like ice cream, or flowers—and see what people do with it. It goes back to that whole question of interpretation versus intention. We’ve got reputations. It’ll be interesting to see how that affects what people hear in our music.”

“Aren’t you afraid everyone will think you’re sleeping with him?” Soledad asks, and Trish brushes off the question with a wave of her hand.

“Everyone here already does. I’m pan and poly, he’s pan and poly, they figure that means we obviously had sex. Which, no.” Trish wrinkles her nose, leans on her elbows on the table. “He’s just not what I’m looking for. I don’t know what I’m looking for lately.”

Carolyn meets her gaze, and Trish looks down. Carolyn’s fairly certain that’s a lie, but she figures that Trish isn’t ready to talk about Sera to anyone else.

It’s strange being the only person who knows about something. Or probably the only person; it’s possible Trish talked to someone else. This is not normal for Carolyn.

Serina reappears with Nate right behind her. She sets down four pots of tea, nudging the correct one in front of each person, and keeping a fifth for herself. Nate pushes mugs across the table, along with silverware.

“Is it okay…?” Serina gestures to the bench next to Carolyn, and Carolyn squeezes closer to Cass to give Serina room. “Thanks,” Serina says, cradling her mug in her hands.

Carolyn smells chocolate, and there’s a thin sheen of cream on the top, as if Serina’s already licked away a mound of whipped cream. Carolyn was hungry when they started walking over, and her stomach growls at the scent. When Serina grins, Carolyn flushes. “It smells good,” she admits.

“Taste,” Serina orders, holding the mug up to Carolyn’s lips. “It’s not searingly hot; I like my cocoa a little cooled.”

It’s as rich as it smells, the consistency thicker than Carolyn’s used to. “There’s melted chocolate—”

“Blended in, yes.” Serina presses her knee against Carolyn, looks over at the others. “I totally didn’t mean to interrupt. I mean, I’m just sitting here while I’m on break. I get like fifteen minutes, but I spent a few of that making myself cocoa. And I kind of still need to eat a snack, too, unless Nate’s nice enough to bring me something.” She cranes her head, tilting back as she looks for him. “Nope, he’s busy. So don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon.” She taps her knee again Carolyn’s. “Thanks for coming to visit me.”

Cass snorts softly.

“Any time one of us decides to head to Teas Please, it turns into a party,” Trish says. She pours her tea and offers the cup to Soledad to taste, and Soledad offers her own in return. They seem to be getting along better again, and Carolyn wonders if that’s because Sera has been spending time with TJ instead of Trish.

She doesn’t wish ill on Trish’s friendship, but she’s glad to see her sisterhood isn’t faltering now.

“I got a care package from my parents,” Soledad says, leaning on the table, her voice low. “It’s four bottles of homemade wine. And I was thinking I could bring it over to the house, and we could have a wine tasting one night, with just some of the sisters. My aunt and uncle are really proud of these four batches, and I’d love to be able to share.”

“I take it your parents don’t believe in the drinking age?” Cass asks, fingernails tapping against the wood of the table.

“Are you going to tell?” Trish asks just as quickly, and Cass pulls back, affronted.

“No. That was conversational. Most parents don’t seem to just give their kids alcohol.”

“My aunt and uncle own a vineyard, and we all grew up tasting wine since we were little,” Soledad explains. “My father wanted to work with them for a long time, but he has a talent—not a Talent, we don’t think, but who knows—for working with computers. And he really doesn’t have any kind of a nose for wine, so my uncle encouraged him to follow his passion. But we help there when we can, and we all grew up close enough that we have their wines at home all the time. I’ve been missing it, and I asked at Christmas if I could have some so… care package.”

“Never did understand why more parents don’t teach their kids how to handle alcohol,” Trish says, her accent thickening softly. “All my friends never had a drop unless they stole a six pack from their folks, and they all thought it was this big deal to get hammered and drive around like fools. Momma said she didn’t raise her kids to drink or do drugs, but that hasn’t helped—”

“What?” Serina asks, her smile falling away when Trish looks at her.

“My older sisters Patsy’s an alcoholic, and Momma doesn’t know,” Trish says quietly. “We’re close as hell—Momma’s two bookends—but I don’t feel that need to drink. But Patsy started when she was on the road, and she’d never had it before, and next think she knew she was drinking herself under the table, no help required. She’s on the wagon now, but she says sometimes it’s hard, especially after she comes home. Momma’s got a strict no alcohol policy at home, though. Just like her strict no magic policy.” Trish turns her hand palm up, like maybe they can see the way her Talent plays across her skin.

Soledad’s brow furrows. “Trish, can I ask a weird question?”

“Sure. Might not have an answer,” Trish admits.

“Are you and your sister both named Patricia?”

It’s funny, because Carolyn’s never thought of that, and she’s been friends with Trish since freshman year. Cass laughs into her drink, and Serina’s eyes go wide.

“Whoa, really?” Serina asks. “I thought that was like this total fictional stereotype, having a family with the kids all named the same thing.”

“It’s just me an Patsy,” Trish says easily. “Patsy was already a teenager when I was born, and there’s like six other kids between me and her. She was all rebellious, and Momma asked what she had to do to get Patsy to help out around the house instead of leaving. Patsy said name the baby after her, so that’s what Momma did. Then Patsy left anyway, went out on tour without even graduating high school.”

“You don’t sound upset by that.” Soledad sounds bewildered. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“Because sometimes family leaves,” Cass mumbles. She pulls her phone out, looks at it, then turns it upside down on the table.

“She came back,” Trish says firmly. She reaches for Soledad’s teapot and pours herself a cup. “She was there more than not when I was twelve, and she stuck around and made sure I made it through high school without being stupid like her—her words, not mine. I was already writing songs, and I’d sent her some, and she helped me start recording. But she said I had to get my high school diploma first, and when she found out I liked engines, and that I was good at working with them, she said I should go to school for that, too. She pays my tuition now, even though I could afford it, and like I said, we’re close. She didn’t abandon me. She just needed to grow up a bit away from Momma. And I think maybe she had the right idea with that one.” She smiles ruefully. “I love my Momma, but sometimes I don’t really like her all that much.”

Nate appears at the table, sets down two baskets of crispy breadsticks and two ramekins of dipping sauces. “Serina, you’re needed in the back. Your section is filling up and people are going to want service, and I can’t do it all.”

“Gotcha.” Serina quickly downs the rest of her hot cocoa, then glances at everyone. “Anyone need a refill? Cass?” she says when Cass raises her hand. “Okay, I’ll put that in and bring out more tea shortly.”

“I’ll bring out more tea and you’ll go back to your section,” Nate repeats. “Go earn your own tips.” He stands tall until she hurries away, but as soon as she’s gone his shoulders slump. “She was excited to see you come in, but we’re too busy tonight for much social. Even for me.” He takes their orders and pockets his pencil and pad. “Carolyn, have you got a minute?”

It’s strangely formal for Nate, his usual cheerfulness held at bay. Carolyn rises, follows when he motions for her to head toward the narrow hall leading to the back where the restrooms are. “I’m not good at advice,” she says when they are out of sight. “No matter what anyone else might say. I’m really not.”

“I’m not looking to get advice,” Nate says softly. “I’m looking to give it. Anyone with eyes can see that Serina’s fallen hard, and I just don’t want to see her get hurt again. She wears her heart on her sleeve.”

Carolyn blinks. “What?”

“First she had that crush on me, and I had to let her down easy because as much as I adore her—and I do adore her—she’s just not my type.” Nate ticks points off on long fingers as he speaks. “Then there was Kit, and she was over the moon, and then suddenly they just weren’t together. And she didn’t seem all that upset, and I wasn’t sure why, but then I saw you.”

“Me?” Carolyn’s still not following.

“If you’re not interested, you need to let her know,” Nate says.

Oh.

“I don’t know if I’m interested,” Carolyn admits, just as quietly. “I mean, I think I am. But there’s—” She doesn’t want to get into all the details with Nate, and doesn’t really feel like he belongs that deeply in her psychology. “I don’t want to hurt her, either. I like Serina. A lot. And I’m comfortable with her, and when I needed someone to flee to, she’s who my subconscious chose.” She shrugs her shoulders, wraps her arms around her center before anything else slips free. “Take that as you will.”

Nate regards her for a long moment, then opens his arms and gestures for her to come closer. He wraps her up in a hug, holding on tight as he pats her back. “Don’t let her hurt you, either, Carolyn,” he murmurs. “Remember that you’re just as important as she is.”

Carolyn disengages slowly. “Weren’t you just giving me the shovel talk on her behalf?”

“You’re both my friends; I can give you both the shovel talk,” Nate says seriously. He keeps his hands on her shoulders, watching her. Carolyn isn’t sure what he’s looking for, but he eventually drops his hands and steps back. “I need to get back to my shift; we really are busy.”

“Have you had any luck with your risks?” Carolyn asks. She follows him back out, doesn’t miss the way he checks her table. Heather and Nikita must have just arrived, standing nearby. Cass slides out of the bench, pushing past them roughly as she heads out. “Nate?”

“Hm?” He glances over at her, shakes his head. “Risks? Oh, you mean fighting off the dicks for purposes of valor. No, sorry, he remains gorgeous, straight, and absolutely unattainable. And to be honest, if I could stop thinking about him, I would, but sometimes there’s nothing sensible about crushes? Right. Me, I have a thing for a human stats machine. He isn’t even my usual type. But don’t worry, I’ll get over him soon enough. Summer’s a great time around here for flirting with tourists trying to get away from the city.”

“It’s still February,” Carolyn points out.

Nate pats her cheek. “Don’t lose hope; spring is coming. Let me get that order in before you all starve waiting for me.”

They part ways, and by the time Carolyn makes it back to the table, Heather and Nikita have taken over the other side of the bench, and Cass is gone. Rather than squeeze in, Carolyn grabs an empty chair from another table, and makes her own spot at the end. “What happened to Cass? She was all over her phone tonight.”

“She got a text and stormed out,” Soledad says, looking at the door as if she could still see Cass. “She was really upset about it.”

“Dax?”

Trish shakes her head. “Not Dax; we asked if he’s okay and she said she has no idea. He’s got a project he’s working on, since Chris is away helping out with that tournament today. She didn’t want to talk about it, froze us out like Cass does.”

But it’s not like Cass does, not anymore. Carolyn’s begun to think of Cass as someone closer to her, sometime who trusts her, and that she can trust in return. She pulls out her phone as Nik and Heather pore over the menu and flag down Nate to add their orders and cancel Cass’s.

You okay? She sends the text to Cass, not really expecting an answer.

They have their food by the time Cass replies, I’m as okay as I’m going to be. It’s nothing major. Just family drama again.

For a moment Carolyn wants to ask if it’s about her sister, but she doubts that would be true. Not now, not after all these years. So instead she replies, If you want to talk about it at all, I’m here.

She figures that Cass understands just how rare an offer that is for Carolyn. And just how truly she means it.

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