#-cares for it extensively. but a machine? coming here? i wonder if something wicked has the ability to interact with the terminals at all

[mipexch]

been thinking about something wicked a little too much lately. no harm in romanticizing the ominous dreadful unstoppable force

[thebeethathums]

The Baker - 4

From the frustrated look on Sherlock’s face when he emerged from the morgue with John, the brother’s body had held very little information to aid in solving the case, something you’d anticipated. For that reason, you hadn’t minded waiting outside to take care of a pressing phone call while they went in and took a look, the call had been more important anyways- a matter of national security.

The cab ride home from there consisted of Sherlock filling you in on what you’d missed while you tapped feverishly at your phone, nodding every so often, and John just looking on with a sigh. As they walked through the door to the flat, you announced, “I have some work to do. I hope you don’t mind if I commandeer the table?”

Sherlock just waved a hand, already flopping down on the couch in his thinking position, and John shrugged indifferently, so you set up your laptop and things on the table in the living room and, after slapping an antistatic bracelet on each of their wrists as a precaution, settled in to work.

A number of hours later, Sherlock bolted up, finding John in his chair with his laptop and you in the middle of dissecting what looked to be some sort of satellite-targeted grappling gun, a pair of magnifying glasses pressed on your face. He smirked at you, “You owe me ten pounds. I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” you hummed distractedly, not looking up, and Sherlock rolled his eyes, “The case, of course.”

Pausing in your work, you looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow, “You were still working on that?”

He blinked at you and then had a realization, letting out a sigh, “When?”

You went back to your work as you responded, “Nearly three hours ago. I texted Lestrade and he’s already made the arrest… so I believe it is you that owes me ten pounds. You’re getting slow, Sherlock.”

John stifled a chuckle as Sherlock rolled over to sulk over the fact that you’d not only figured it out first but that you’d hadn’t told him right away and you continued on as if nothing had happened. It was around five in the afternoon and you could have easily gone home but you had wanted to see how long it took him to figure it out and now you were more than focused on your work- it made more sense to stay. You’d missed 221B and Sherlock anyways.

It was tensely quiet for a while and when John absolutely couldn’t take it anymore, he went out to get some take away for dinner and some air, hoping that giving the two of you some time alone would help.

“You can’t sulk forever, Sherlock,” you stated when the outer door to the flat shut downstairs and he simply grunted, causing you to laugh.

He scooted so you could sit next to him when you put down your work to join him on the couch, tucking his toes under your arm as you stretched out in the opposite direction of him. There was barely enough room for the both of you to sit like that but somehow you always managed to fit and he studied you from his position across from you for a long moment.

When you leaned your head back with a tired sigh, he started in, “You’ve taken on more work from the government than ever before in addition to nearly single-handedly running your bakery, doing most -if not all- the baking yourself. You’ve dated three… no four men and two women since you left but none of them could keep up with you or keep your interest. Not to mention the fact that Mycroft has been doing his duties as an elder brother and discreetly sabotages any dates with those he does not approve of, which in this case is all of them. You talk to Mycroft as little as possible because you are angry with him and the excessive amount of work you put upon yourself has isolated you from your usual group of friends... You are bored and lonely, little sister.”

You patted his leg lightly, closing your eyes, “I was not lying when I said I missed you terribly. Three years is quite a long time to go without being challenged on both a professional and personal level. Mycroft tries to keep me from going completely off the edge with challenging assignments but I’m afraid technology can only go so far.”

Sherlock stroked your leg sympathetically, knowing that feeling all too well and unable to imagine going as long as you had without simply blowing something up, “Come back then. Challenging each other as we used to keeps us both sharp and I certainly wouldn’t mind having you along with me again.”

A hesitant look passed across your face and he pressed, “You don’t have to stay here. Keep your flat and the bakery… it seems to provide as good a distraction for you as the violin does for me, but join me on cases again. I know John will feel less animosity towards me with you along- you always were better at dealing with social conventions- and I’d like to make up for lost time.”

“But Mycroft-“ you started and he was quick to cut you off, “We’ve both long since stopped listening to him. Why begin to do so now?”

A wicked grin spread across your face, “A fair point, elder brother.”

“Glad you find it such, little sister,” he hummed, returning just as mischievous a grin, and the two of you giggled at each other.

John came home to the ringing sound of gunshots, bolting up the stairs to find you folded in his chair rapidly typing away at your laptop and Sherlock slouched down in his own chair across from you, the gun hanging loosely from his long pale fingers.

He rapidly demanded, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Bored,” you offered, not looking up, and Sherlock echoed the sentiment, making John bewilderedly stumble, “What?”

Before John could move further into the flat, Sherlock was up and shooting the wall again as he shouted, “Bored!”

You rolled your eyes as John grabbed the gun from him, “I do wish you’d find a quieter way of dealing with it, Sherly. What happened to the crossbow?”

“Didn’t pack enough punch,” he answered simply as John gaped and then he huffed, “What is it with the criminal classes these days… at the very least they could mix it up. Rude, is what it is.”

John's eyebrows shot up, “So you take it out on the wall?”

“The wall had it coming,” he answered dully, flopping down on the couch as John blinked at him and you flatly stated, “Hardly.”

Sherlock glared at you for a moment, “It certainly deserved it far more so than the object of your boredom. Who are you toying with today?”

“Anderson and by extension Donovan.”

He gave a weak chuckle, “I take it back. They are more than deserving.”

“Do you think he’ll ever figure out why the elevator door keeps closing on him?” you wondered lazily and Sherlock scoffed, “Of course not. He’s an idiot.”

John looked between the two of you and then furrowed his brow, “What?”

Sherlock sighed, “It’s quite simple, John. Honestly. When there is nothing else to do and the boredom sets in, (F/n) hacks CCTV -among other things- and messes with the lives of strangers and those she dislikes. Today she has rightfully chosen Anderson. I suspect she may even be behind your row with the chip and pin machine.”

John looked accusingly towards you and you shrugged, “I have no idea what he’s talking about but if I did, I could assure you it was only a passive-aggressive expression of jealousy.”

Sherlock snorted, “John could never replace you, (F/n)”

Though you wouldn’t admit it, John was fairly certain that Sherlock's suspicion was correct and was mildly smug over the fact you’d been jealous of him before turning his attention back to the wall. He ran a hand down his face with a sigh, he should have known two Holmes' under the same roof was never good- no matter how corrigible you seemed.

[popculturespiritwow]

THE WICKED + THE DIVINE #18: BAD SPIDER IS MY NEW BAND NAME

INTO THE GREAT WILD OPEN

Rereading Arc Four, the thing that has struck me the most over and over is just how wide open it is. It’s like we’ve been in this long tunnel (although Arc Three never felt like that at the time), and suddenly we’ve emerged into a story that is just MOVING. Forget finding out what happened to Laura, the best we can do is hold on and keep up with what she’s got planned.

Likewise, all the idiosyncrasies of the great artists from arc three have fallen to the wayside. Jamie and Matt deliver in contrast this clean and often-bright style (love the Woden disco-teleport beams so much) that is very accessible.

Each time I’ve come to this arc this shift into high gear has thrown me. It seems somehow “less” after the deep dives and unusual textures of what’s come directly before. Or maybe somehow “simpler”, more straightforward.  

I don’t think that interpretation is simply a matter of contrast with the prior arc. Arc Four presents a classic super hero trope, Super Hero Big Fight. In its standard form that trope is always high octane, big visuals, quick and dirty reads.

Kieron has often said in his Writer’s Notes that he and Jamie imagine WicDiv as a journey through and comment on everything that they’ve ever done. I think what we’re being “told” in issue 18 is, here’s our super hero moment. Get ready for some spandex fisticuffs.

And also, probably, beware. Because this is not a super hero book. And when these guys seem standard or straightforward, the floor is probably going to drop out. (They got razors in their hats, guys!)

(I just started watching Peaky Blinders. Finding it really traumatizing.)

SETTING THE TABLE

God we’ve missed you.

As with every arc, Kieron seeds most of the major elements of this arc early. Laura is back (and she has A PLAN!); Ananke has A MACHINE!, and it’s for Minerva; Minerva’s parents are THE WORST, but she still wants to save them; Baphomet and Persephone know a lot about each other, and the Morrigan is NOT GOING TO LIKE IT.

Plus, Ananke wants everyone to believe Laura is THE DESTROYER!; and Persephone is IN HELL!

(Actually, those last two are more arcs for the entire middle/Act Two of WicDiv. And they’re mysteries more than they are statements. This arc we’ve got Ananke saying Laura is the Destroyer as a means to try and get her Pantheon to kill her; but as we move into Imperial Phase more and more we’ll wonder if she wasn’t right. Everything Laura-as-Persephone does (starting with sleeping with Baphomet) ends up messing people up. And Laura herself clearly believes she is the Destroyer.

Meanwhile the true import of “Persephone is in Hell” won’t become clear until the very end of Imperial Phase II, when Laura reveals her belief that she’s responsible for the deaths of her family, and that she deserves nothing but punishment.

And though that reveal stunned me to the core, looking back on this issue the very first thing that we get from Laura after her return is her remembering her family’s murders. In fact it’s the only moment in the whole of what I’m thinking of as Act Two where we get inside Laura’s head. For me, one of the most unsettling and jarring parts of the next three arcs, in fact, is that after having established a relationship with the character through inner monologue we are now suddenly completely shut out of her inner life. Kieron will use that silence to feed our suspicions that she could very well be the Destroyer as the Act goes on. Tricksy tricksy hobbit. 

But it’s also just like a hole in everything as the story goes on, like we really never did get Laura back, even if she’s there shooting tendrils on the page.

Or as Ananke puts it next issue, when Woden asks why she didn’t tell him Laura is alive:

Is it wrong to call Arc Four the beginning of Act Two of WicDiv? Certainly Arc Three keeps moving the story along, and has some big moments in it. But I don’t know, for me tonally it feels as an arc more like when a movie pauses after a Turning PointTM to sort of let you catch up and learn how to fill your lungs with air again.  

On the other hand, much of what happens in the Imperial Phase arcs really gets set up in Arc Three. So maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about here.

Ron Howard Voice: He was right. He did not.

MOMSTER AND DADSTER

I have to give a nod to Mini’s relationship with her parents in this issue. Although we’ve seen them before (and watched them trick her out), this is our first experience with them up close. And they are pretty much worse than we thought. It’s her thirteenth birthday; cool! Here’s what they have planned:

A pony for your birthday? But what about all the people who have paid all this money to see you? (There is no way that kid’s parents are not Catholic.)

Yet when the danger comes, Minerva’s only concern is for their well-being. In fact, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think there’s a single moment in the entire run where she speaks bad about her parents. 

Which in a way is a great extension of one of the themes of Arc Three – monstrous or not we’re all just human beings, and precious.

It’s also another brilliant way to make us love Minerva, so that when he takes her from us Who is This Winifred Burkle I am Illyria-style Kieron can really enjoy it.

No he isn’t, Gollum. No, he most definitely isn’t.

I also note we have in issue 18 Mini repeating the nonsense Ananke used to reassure her, and to Baphomet, of all people.

Oh that poor kid.

But also: this question of whether it’s all going to be okay or not keeps coming up. To such an extent I almost wonder, is it possible there is some way it might actually prove to be okay in the end?

It can’t, right? They’re all going to die. How can it possibly work out?

...

Okay I admit it. Somehow even now I’m still rooting for a Shakespeare in Love ending.

HENRIETTA PUSSYCAT SAYS HELLO

Thinking of the issue as Something A Writer Can Learn From, in addition to How to Make Readers Love a Character That’s Going to Be Murdered, I admire how Kieron uses this new plan of Laura’s to subvert my desire to find out What Happened to Laura, Tell Me Right Now, I Need This.

Given that she’s just returned, we think we’re at the beginning of something, but then it turns out no, we’re in the middle; all the fun scenes where George Clooney convinced a bunch of other men to do men stuff happened while we were busy watching Sakhmet eat her dad and now they’re about to steal from Ananke Garcia in front of us. 

(Andy Garcia would kill as Ananke. Hollywood make this happen.)

On the surface our desire to find out about Persephone and our desire to learn about/see this plan enacted would not seem to be parallel in intensity. But in fact they’re close enough, perhaps because the plan is all about Ananke getting her comeuppance.

Actually as I write this I’m suddenly realizing from a strictly emotional point of view our desire to see Ananke get smited is much bigger, isn’t it. We hunger for answers, but what we NEED is catharsis. And that’s all about taking care of Ananke.

So by offering us what we feel we need, we’re willing to let go of what we want.

And now suddenly I have this image that basically we’re cats and Kieron and Jamie have a laser pointer.

Hmm. Maybe that’s an interesting way of thinking about being a writer.