#I love digging too deep into red dead redemption 2

[outlawruben]

No I’m not thinking about Hosea Matthews living up to his name and being the prophet of doom in the Van Der Linde Gang..

But not only that, I’m also thinking about how Arthur seems to be turning into his own prophet of doom.

I always think about these two Hosea quotes that were both directed at Dutch:

“They want to parlay? it’s a trap!” Which is what he predicted, and Arthur agrees. Of course, Hosea and Arthur’s opinions are overruled by Dutch and Micah, and Dutch, Arthur, and Micah meet up with Colm O’Driscoll. This leads to Arthur being bushwhacked and kidnapped by the O’Driscolls, and nearly beaten to death within an inch of his life, and shot point blank in the shoulder. Arthur barely makes it back to camp, when he brings up his and Hosea’s argument from earlier. “I told you it was a set up Dutch.”

The next quote I’d like to mention is:

“You’ll damn us all.” Which was of course a cutting remark Hosea shot Dutch’s way. This quote was said in the mission before Bronte’s death, which lead to the story- let’s just say- concluding.. (we all know how it ended for Hosea and the rest of the gang) Aka, Dutch damned them all.

And as for Arthur, we see him become Hosea in many ways in chapter 6. Before we play the mission: “That’s Murfree Country” Dutch states: “You sound like Hosea.” When Arthur suggests saving the women, and children (aka something that Hosea’s been talking about since chapter 1) and several times Micah makes comments on how Arthur is becoming like Hosea. Especially in the mission: “The Delights of Van Horn” you can have a hidden interaction with Micah where he mocks Arthur’s “whiny” tone and then states: “You almost make me miss Hosea.” both of these prove that the only thing Arthur became as he was inching closer to death is a carbon copy of his father figure/mentor.

[papenniesandbentoboxes]

Spoiler-Free KEY Review

Alright. I finished KEY. I'm going to play it again with my sister and then probably do a more in depth review of it, but for now I've got a just-finished-it review, and we'll see how this one compares to my second review after a second playthrough.

Plot:

The plot wasn't too bad! A bit linear compared to other games but I did enjoy it. It wasn't as visual novel-y as MID but wasn't as interactive as some other games. But overall it was fun and entertaining!

Characters:

The characters were enjoyable. I liked having some characters there being only barely involved when others were SUPER involved, so we have a lot more range with suspects and suspicions. I definitely would have liked digging deeper into the characters, like in CUR and GTH and SAW and such. Although, I'll admit, in most of the other games we didn't get super deep backgrounds either. There weren't a lot of dialogue options, so maybe in the future we can get more dialogue and character deep dives! I want more substance!

The only part about the characters I actively didn't like was a certain character's hair (bro, that's some Assassin's Creed Caterina Sforza hair, Sims hair, idk but it wasn't good enough), and the random unimportant NPCs. The NPCs were a bit distracting and did take me out of the game if I paid too much attention to them, so that's my take on that. In the future, I want to random unimportant NPCs to be completely gone and I want to VEN sound design back. That was immersive without needing the actual people standing around.

Now the phone characters were almost useless, only there to push the plot forward with barely any fun shit. In the future, I NEED more interaction with them. Less texting, more actual conversations. And they don't even need to be strictly about the game, give me conversations like what we had with Savannah Woodham. Not just a phone call here or there for only the purpose of moving forward in the plot. I need weird phone calls where they're like "hello! what do you want!" and the only dialogue option is "bye!" so then you hang up. I also want to actually be able to call them, because if there isn't a plot reason for it, you can't call them. So. Yeah. Oversight from the game devs.

Controls:

This game I feel was not designed with point and click in mind. I feel like it was added as a second option while favoring the "modern" controls of free roam stuff. However, I enjoyed the free roam! Maybe this is because I play a lot of other video games that aren't point and click, but I ended up really liking it. Other than that, the controls CAN be a bit clunky to get used to, but that happens with every video game with new controls you don't know yet (when I started playing Red Dead Redemption 2 I punched my horse so many times because I couldn't get used to the controls and I felt so bad). I think they could definitely work on it more, but it is WAY better than Midnight in Salem. Way WAY better.

Music:

While not as iconic at the Kevin Manthei tracks I am in love with, I did like the music! It was pretty good, with some tracks standing above the others. I will say though that the track that plays in the tech store is my least favorite as it just sounds... meh. In every sense of the word.

Puzzles and Minigames:

Oh my god. OH MY GOD. There are actually puzzles!!!! After all, what, two puzzles in Midnight in Salem, we actually get REAL PUZZLES! They have some new puzzles, some recycled puzzles (THAT I WANT MORE OF), some pretty puzzles, some clunky but fine puzzles, and just a good variety of them. They also offer hints if you are struggling.

I think my favorite puzzle is... Well, I don't want to spoil it, but there are a few contending for the top place. (Although fuck math, all my homies hate math.)

As for the minigames, the coffee making is fun, although a bit daunting with the instructions. I recommend making your own notes aside from the in-game recipe books. The latte art can be irritating but eventually you get the hang of it. Not quite as bad as the SAW calligraphy but nowhere near the delight I got from the SPY cookies minigame.

Glitches and Issues:

I did catch a few typos and a few glitches, but they weren't the norm. Just look at the HeR site for what to look out for, and make sure your PC can handle the game. I didn't need to look out for that since I'm currently playing Red Dead Redemption 2 and my laptop is running that fine (on low graphics lol). Way less messed up than MID, worse than some of the other games, but hey, it's not like we've never had bugs in the games before (there have been a few times the games have crashed on me because of bugs). And this time we have autosaves to help out with that.

Overall Impression:

It's a solid game. I thoroughly enjoyed it. While the UI and controls are still similar to MID, the game itself is a step in the right direction where I want the Nancy Drew games to go. It isn't perfect, I don't think we'll ever get a perfect Nancy Drew game, but it's good enough for me.

I'm happy with it. I got to have the joy of a new Nancy Drew game, which is something I haven't had since Midnight in Salem, and we know how that went. I got to find new clues, see new places, meet new characters, complete puzzles that were both new and recycled, and enjoy a new mystery. It brought a smile to my face multiple times and made me squeal in delight when I solved something. I haven't had a good new Nancy Drew game experience since I played SEA when it came out.

So I'm happy. Is it my favorite? No. But do I think it's bad? Also no. I think it's somewhere in the middle for me, but that's okay. These games make me happy, and I hope we get more so they can continue my happiness in the future.

Tentative rating: 7/10

[margowritesthings]

Ghosts and Smoke

*i wrote this with this song in mind, so please feel free to listen for extra vibes!*

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 2791

warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE END OF RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2, angst, death, smoking, suggested post-sex scene

a/n: y'all i am GONE. it killed me. the end of red dead killed me and all i've done since is cry and write this damn angst. i'm sorry, but i'm also not. hope you enjoy!! also, thank you for all the love on my latest piece! im so glad youre as into this silly cowboy man as much as i am rn.

It was so quiet. You were used to the quiet lately, going it alone, but not here. Not Shady Belle, which was always full of laughter and fire and swearing and gunshots. The leaves rustled and your broken heart beat every so often but other than that, there was nothing. No laughter, no fire, nothing. You’d hitched your horse about a mile away, careful to keep her hidden well, so you were well and truly alone here. 

You looked up at the house, still somehow standing tall amongst the ghosts and smoke and tried your best to take a deep breath. It was about 30 paces away from you, past the campfire, your old tent and the fountain. A twig snapped under your boot as you took the first step, fingernails digging little moons into the palm of your hand. You could do this. Just past the campfire and you’d be halfway there.

═══════☆═══════

“What’re you always lookin’ at when I do this, huh?” Arthur asked, meeting your eye and wearing that amused smirk that suited him so well, sending your heart fluttering each and every time. 

That awful feeling people only get when they realise the other knows you’ve been watching them churned your stomach for a second. Honestly, you hadn’t even realised you were staring. 

“Nothin’. I just… my daddy used to smoke those things. He always tried to teach me to roll them for him and I never could. You seem so good at it.”

Sat around the fire with some of the camp, Arthur had been rolling some tobacco into a cigarette. You always found yourself watching him, finding the way his fingers expertly knew what they were doing somewhat hypnotising. And then there was that moment his tongue darted out from his teeth to lick the paper, which was… a sight to behold, to say the least. 

“I’ve got years of experience… I can teach ya sometime, if you’d like.” 

The opportunity to spend more time with Arthur dangled in front of you, shining like a medal. You reached out and grabbed it, nodding at him eagerly, “I’ll warn ya, my daddy tried real hard. I’m a difficult student.” 

Arthur’s head tilted, a cocky grin dominating his features beautifully before he pulled the masterfully rolled cigarette to his lips and licked down the length of the paper. You tried to remain composed while the air was stolen by an outlaw straight from your lungs. 

“I guess I’ll just have t’work you real hard then, won’t I?”

═══════☆═══════

The camp always smelled like smoke, so the fresh air felt wrong as you stepped past the plot that was formerly the fire you’d spent so many nights beside. The logs and stumps repurposed into chairs still sat around the burnt blackened circle, waiting for people who would never again be together. 

You kept walking, jaw clenched so hard your teeth ached. Your old tent caught your eye, at least what was left of it, singed and ripped canvas still hanging pathetically, tangled in a branch. In and amongst the ruins of your former home, your eye is caught by a piece of metal catching the dappled sunlight above. Kneeling down briefly, you pushed damp soil and leaves out of the way to reveal a metal cup trodden into the ground. For a silly little cup, it hurt far too much.

═══════☆═══════

“God damn it!” You swore, watching the tobacco scatter across your legs. Arthur chuckled, low and throaty, leaning against the tree your tent was hung around and taking a long, leisurely sip of coffee out of his cup. Gathering the tiny leaves back together on your skirts, you scowled at Arthur before starting to load the paper back up again.

“You gotta loosen up. Your fingers are too stiff.” He advised, watching his student intently. Easier said than done, really, hunched over a lantern in a tent, but you didn’t want to sound like you were making excuses. 

“Right, yeah... Got it.” You mumbled, your tongue poking out between your teeth, a sure sign of absolute concentration. It was all in vain, though, as the paper crumpled at a funny angle and sent tobacco flying once more onto your person. 

“Shit!” You hissed, flexing out your hands in a futile attempt to 

“Alright, easy now…” he cooed, earning another glare when you realised you recognised the phrase and tone of voice from when a snake spooked Arthur’s horse.

“I give up. This is hopeless.” You tried to reach up to hand him the paper to roll his own damn cigarette and he stepped forwards towards you. Expecting him to take it, you were surprised when he instead handed you his mug and sat down right up next to you. You hadn’t been this close since he first rode you into camp and you felt so small flushed against his broad shoulders like this. 

“Hold that, warm your hands up and I’ll show you again.” You obeyed your orders, doing just as Arthur said as he rubbed his own hands together, occasionally blowing into them. Without another word, he covered your hands, sandwiching them in between calloused palms and heated metal. The unexpected contact knocks you pretty hard, but you somehow manage to find the composure to mutter a thank you and hope you weren’t blushing too hard. 

You looked up to Arthur, only to find he was already looking at you. When your eyes met properly, it felt as though someone had just lit a fire right beside you. The air felt… heavier? No, lighter. Both? You didn’t know and couldn’t quite seem to figure it out, feeling the fuzziness of 4 whiskies that you hadn’t actually drank.

All from the touch of a hand?

The moment was weighted now, and you both knew it. The quiet between you twisted and grew and almost became palpable, but you physically couldn’t talk, not knowing if any actual words would leave or lips or some incoherent murmurings.

“Here. Let me show you.” Arthur took his hands away and the lack of contact had you almost… pouting? You didn’t have time to examine why you were so disappointed, though, as Arthur sat behind you, his chest right up against your back. His legs pressed against the outside of you and you were worried that he was close enough to hear your heart, beating right out of your chest. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Y’have t’make sure you get it nice and tight, so the bottom doesn’t fall out…” His arms wrapped around yours and his hands cupped yours again. The contrast was stark, his tanned, hardened skin making your hands look even tinier. You couldn’t breathe, wedged between the smell of dried tobacco and coffee on one side and smoked tobacco and Arthur on the other. Your fingers so naturally followed what he was doing, and before you could even register it, you had a perfectly rolled cigarette in your hands.

“Oh shit! I did it!” You twisted slightly, only to see the excited grin on Arthur’s face as he watched you squeal proudly. He took the roll from you, placing it right between your teeth and pulling out a match. A questioning brow raised as he lit a match, suspending it in front of the cigarette until you nodded your permission and he lit it. You coughed. He laughed, chest still pressed firmly against your back.

“I’m real proud of you. Now y’gotta learn to smoke the damn things.”

═══════☆═══════

You left your first tent for the last time, vowing to never look back. Wet leaves clung to your boots, dragging across the floor past the crumbling fountain and some other tents being reclaimed by nature, muddy and covered in ivy. The final path up to the house was so familiar after so many hours watching it, waiting for your beloved to return from a job, wringing your hands with worry. The porch creaked as you stepped on it, the site of so many tear-filled reunions. The door was no longer on its hinges and fell with a bang at your touch, echoing out into the forest and sending the wildlife running. 

You were home. For the last time.

═══════☆═══════

“I’ve got a surprise for you-uuu.” you sang out, hands held behind your back as Arthur stepped the threshold into the abandoned manor. He looked tired, but still managed a sleepy smile as you reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He caught the kiss, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you closer for a more tender moment. You hadn’t seen each other in 3 days, Arthur off near Strawberry following a lead, so being back encased in his arms felt like home had come back to you.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, gentle smile tugging on his lip, “A surprise? For me? Y’shouldn’t have, darlin’.” The humbleness that appeared whenever you tried to do something nice for Arthur reared its adorable head and you shook your head, one hand still pinned to your back, clutching your gift. 

“Close your eyes!”

“Alright, alright…” Arthur chuckled, holding his hands up in a mock surrender as he closed his eyes. You waved at him a few times, just to be sure, before pulling a single, wonky cigarette out from behind you and tapping Arhur on the chest.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. Nonetheless, his face lit up with pride as he realised what exactly it was that he was looking at.

“You did it?”“I did it!”

“Yes!” He was so excited for you, more so than you’d ever seen him and your heart swelled. This big, scary cowboy, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around because you finally managed to roll something smokeable.

“I’m so proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and never told you that it fell apart before he had the chance to light the damn thing.

═══════☆═══════

The stairs groaned under your weight miserably, each step feeling more and more likely to collapse. It always was the loudest staircase you’d ever heard, impossibly difficult to sneak around on when trying not to let a whole camp know that you and Arthur were both going upstairs. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you knew if you started now you’d never make it upstairs. You couldn’t break, because there was nobody left to put you back together.

Every step required a more laboured breath, splinters half-heartedly brushing your fingertips as you traced them over the rotting bannister. You were alone, but the ghosts ran up and down around you, laughing and teasing and smiling and kissing and loving and taunting just how alone you really were. 

A few more strides and you were there. His door was closed and for some reason that made it all that harder to breach the barrier and enter Arthur’s room. A shaky hand reached for the handle, twisting agonisingly slowly and pushing through.

Arthur always, always stole the breath from you, but it was always in the best way. Not like this, not how winded you felt seeing the empty, abandoned room. It was never exactly a palace, Arthur being the first to admit to that, but whenever you used to be there it had this… energy woven into the air. You realized, standing there in that moment, that it wasn’t the place at all. The place was… just that. A place, dying where it stood, rotting and filled with ghosts. The air was clean, but it couldn’t fill your lungs. You needed the fire, built by your soulmate, keeping you warm every night. You needed the cigarette smoke he breathed, tickling your lungs and coating his lip. But it was gone, stamped out and extinguished by God’s great plan. It hurt so much that you laughed, just once, harsh and loud, before your back fell into the wall of Arthur’s bedroom and you slid downwards, your legs finally giving in. Your lungs burned for the cry that just wouldn’t come as you pulled your languid legs towards your chest. 

You hugged your legs close for a second, before the exhaustion reached your arms and they dropped to your sides. One hand hit the damp wooden floorboard, where the other hit something much colder, the ring on your finger clanging against it loudly. The sudden break of agonising silence shocked you for a second, instinct and past trauma screaming at you that you were in a shootout, but you managed to calm down quickly as soon as you figured out the cause of such a volume. 

The floor fell out from under you. Not physically, though you wouldn’t have been surprised, but everything around you seemed to fall when you laid your eyes on the little metal box beside you, rust embellishing the corners and hinges.

Arthur’s tin.

═══════☆═══════

You felt the rise and fall of Arthur’s bare chest, your head resting on it as you tried to gain control of your own breath. The blood was still rushing in your ears as you came back down from the intense high what you’d just experienced with Arthur gave you. Limbs jelly, vision fuzzy, you pressed a lazy kiss to his skin. The fingers mindlessly running through your hair stopped, Arthur in a momentary contemplation that resulted in him reaching over and grabbing a cigarette from the table beside his bed.

“Pass the matches over will ya’, sweetheart? They’re in with my tobacco.” 

You nodded, rolling over to your other side to reach over to your side of the bed, where Arthur’s stash tin sat. While Arthur waited, cigarette hanging limply from the side of his lip, you opened the tin and froze. There was the usual hit of the strong scent of tobacco, the little box of matches, and papers, but those were to be expected. What you didn’t expect to see was a charcoal sketch stuffed in there, staring back at you. It was a remarkable likeness, though you were sure you’d never looked as beautiful as how Arthur had drawn you, laughing in a way that lit up your whole face. The emotion was all too much, sitting in your throat and filling your eyes with wet tears.

“Y’alright? Are they in there?” A concerned voice asked, forcing you to swallow the overwhelming happiness for a moment or two, nodding, handing Arthur the matches and closing the tin. You nuzzled back into his chest, swirling a finger around the little hairs that trailed down his abs.

“I love you, you know that?”“I know. I love you too.”

═══════☆═══════

The tin was so cold in your hands, that cold that you could feel it through your shirt as you held it close to your chest, so hard it was though you were willing more into existence than was there anymore, as if Arthur himself was in there. One last deep breath to find the courage and the tin popped open. The smell of tobacco hit your nostrils and infiltrated your lungs and it hurt. The scent was so undeniably Arthur that it felt so wrong that he wasn’t there with it. He was gone, you knew that, but there was some hope in you that you’d find him hiding in the smoke, just like he always was. 

Clumps of leaves were a little damp in your fingers, attacked by the elements, but you managed to gather enough dry bits and pull out one of the papers. It was cold, but your hands didn’t seem to notice. You had to do this, there was nothing else left. No leads, no job, no Arthur. Just you, alone in an empty room in a lonely house.

Your nimble fingers worked slowly, savouring the ritual of sprinkling in the grind, rolling it up and sealing it, just as he taught you.

That’s it. You got it, sweetheart.

Take your time.

You pictured him, arms closing you in as he guided the paper over with you. 

Just one step at a time.

Soon enough, there was a cigarette wedged between your fingers. 

See? Look at you.

The first few matches were duds, ruined by the water, but eventually you got one lit. You remembered Arthur, cupping his hands over the match as he lit to protect the flame from the weather. You did the same, not trusting the hole where a window once stood proud. 

The tip lit and you breathed in. You coughed. You cried.

The last cigarette of Arthur Morgan. 

You got this, darlin’.

You inhaled smoke. You exhaled ghosts, swirling and wisping around you, caressing your cheek just like he did.

I’m so proud of you.

[galadrieljones]

A Funeral: Chapter 20 (Arthur Morgan x Mary Beth Gaskill)

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Existential Angst, Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nature, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Marriage, Epiphanies, Backstory, Banter, Deep Emotions, Sharing a Bed, Swimming, Arthur to the Rescue, Forests, Abduction, Angst, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Content, Sexual Themes, Adult Content, Canon Divergence, Found Families, Brotherhood, Fatherhood

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life is full of uncertainty and complications, and in their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to the insidious dangers of the natural world, as well as to one another, and to their future.

Credit to @bearly-tolerable for the banner!! Art is my own.

***For the rest of this story, you can visit the masterpost or AO3, both linked in the replies to this post and also at my blog.***

Chapter 20: A Man of No Mystery

They walked along the swampy river bank. Dutch had his hands in his pockets. He seemed highly contemplative, almost dreamy. Arthur was curious and unperturbed, but he did feel distant—in a way he had not truly felt before. Like he was on the outside of things now, looking in. He adjusted his hat, lit a cigarette, smoked casually. Once they got far enough away from the property, he heard Dutch make a huge, walloping sigh. Then Dutch stopped, hands still shoved in his pockets. He stared up at the long, white clouds.

“How are you, son?” he said, searching.

“I’m good,” said Arthur. “I heard things was quiet, while we was gone.”

“That, they were,” said Dutch. He nodded, as if affirming his own sense of solace. “That they were.”

“What’s going on, Dutch?”

“I heard that you and Miss Gaskill—you’ve kindled something. Something…real.” Finally, he looked at Arthur. “Is that true?”

Arthur smoked. He tried seeing the earnestness in Dutch’s eyes. He thought, maybe it was true. Maybe it was. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Is that what you wanna talk about?”

“It is,” said Dutch. “I mean, there’s a great deal to talk about, but we could start…there. It interests me greatly.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Just—” Dutch took a deep breath. “Just tell tell me about it.”

Arthur took a long drag off the cigarette, smoking it down to his fingertips. He blew the smoke tossed the nubbin to the grass. “Up north, we ran into some bad, bad characters.”

“Everything turned out okay, I expect?”

“It’s fine,” said Arthur. “But at the time, it wasn’t fine. It made things desperate. It took us by surprise and put things into perspective a little. We’ve always been friends, but I think we just realized, after that, that we was more. More than friends. Things changed.”

Dutch seemed pained at this, but desperately curious. “Hosea came to me today,” he said, rubbing the scruff at his chin. “He told me that you love her.”

“I do,” said Arthur. He shrugged. He smiled. “She gets me, Dutch.”

Dutch smiled, like he was wondering wistfully at what it was to be got. “Tell me about that.”

Arthur looked out at the river, surveying the fish, the huge and the brown fish splashing around in the water. “She lets me be…me. She listens to me. She makes me feel safe.”

“Safe?” said Dutch.

“Yes, sir.”

“You gonna marry her, son?”

“Yes,” said Arthur. “As soon as I can. I don’t wanna wait on it too long.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s time,” said Arthur. “It's just time. I’m thirty-six years old, Dutch. I’m a man without any mystery left inside me. She's good with that, and I ain’t letting her get away.”

“That's...inspiring, Arthur,” said Dutch. "Really."

Arthur gave him a look, not entirely sure what to say next. “So, what?” said Arthur, squaring up with him. "That's all?"

“Excuse me?"

Arthur shoved his own hands in his own pockets. “I don't know. I just keep waiting for you to...call me into question. You keep doing that, Dutch. Like you don't trust my judgment. Like you ain't known me for...twenty-two years."

Dutch shook his head out, once, real quickly. He seemed lost. “I trust your judgment. I just wanted to hear it from you, about your relationship with Mary Beth. I'm happy for you, Arthur. Is that what you want to hear?"

Arthur sighed, he looked down at his boots. He felt bad, and then he looked back up at Dutch. “Maybe," he said.

“Well then, there you have it."

“I just—I assumed this talk here, the one we’re having, is a product of whatever Hosea said to you in St. Denis, and that really, it's about what comes next. That it’s about us leaving.”

“I—” Dutch trailed off. “That is a part of it, yes."

“Can I say something?” said Arthur. "Before you go on."

“Of course,” said Dutch.

“Just in my own defense. I feel like—I feel you’ve known me for a long time, and I need to just…explain something to you.”

“Arthur. Please. Talk.”

“Okay,” said Arthur. He took a deep breath, very serious. He took his hands out of his pockets and sort of held them out in front of him, a peace offering. “I love you, Dutch,” he said, looking him in the eye. “I do.”

“I love you, too, son.”

“And I mean it. This ain’t no ploy for your sympathies. I know how you feel about loyalty. I care about it, a lot, too. You and Hosea, you been like a couple of fathers to me, and I ain’t calculating to do anything without telling the two of you. I know I’ve screwed up my share of relationships with women. You’re probably looking me right now like I’m goddam crazy. Because I’ll admit, I’ve fucked up a lot, in the past. I’ve ruined so much. Eliza. Mary. I lost—I lost a great deal. But this ain’t about me repeating my old mistakes. That I promise you. It’s about me making a life I can be proud of, something of my own, and living it with a person who I care about, and who cares about me. Who don’t try to—to change me.” He looked down at his hands, such battered creatures, this old habit he could not shake. “I wanna be with her, so badly. It strangles me, Dutch. I ain’t felt this way in—hell I’m not sure I ever have. And I just—the way things look right now, with the gang and what we’re doing and the hell we’re getting ourselves into, everything we’re running from—I can’t protect her forever in this sorry state in which we’ve found ourselves. And if—when there’s a child. My child, in the mix of all this—I won't fuck that up. Not again.”

“Arthur—”

“I’m almost finished,” said Arthur. “I swear.”

Dutch nodded.

“I just want you to know,” he went on, “that this ain’t about you.” Arthur lit another cigarette, smoked somewhat frantically. He felt stripped, kind of cracked for some reason. He closed his eyes. “It’s about me and her,” he said. “That’s all. I will always be loyal to you, Dutch. But I can no longer put myself at risk for this life that we lead, when I don’t even know what I’m fighting for anymore. It’s too dangerous. It’s too uncertain.” He opened his eyes again, looking right at Dutch, the smoke crawling in the air between them. “The way I see it sometimes, the only way out of this for me is at the end of a rope, or on a chain gang somewhere, digging holes in the long, hot sun—a fate I probably deserve, to be honest. But I won’t do that to her, Dutch. I won’t. I can’t.”

Dutch watched him closely. He had his hands on his hips, had been nodding along, listening with intent. Or at least it seemed that way. Sometimes, when he was talking to Dutch, Arthur felt as if he were talking into an empty village. A place where loved ones used to live and thrive but have since migrated elsewhere. He was desperate not to feel this way. He harbored so much guilt, so much ugly weight inside. He wanted freedom, but he was terrified of losing Dutch for reasons he could not always comprehend, explain, or even deal with anymore.

"You do not deserve that fate," said Dutch. "You deserve happiness."

“I'm trying to get there," said Arthur.

“Everything you're saying to me," said Dutch, "I hear you, and I think it's beautiful. I am not here to stop you from pursuing a life and family of your own. How could I? After what happened to Eliza, and your son. I remember that like it was yesterday. I remember what it did to you, what it did to all of us. How I almost lost you that year. And I won’t ask you to give up your shot at a second chance with Mary Beth.”

Arthur just stared at him, almost confused. “Thank you,” he said, again.

“You’re welcome, son,” said Dutch. He looked out at the brown water. Way, way out in the distance, you could see a river boat, coming down the aisle, with a couple men fishing off the ledge. “But, Arthur,” he went on.

Arthur followed his gaze. He sighed. He knew there had to be something. He polished off the cigarette and tossed it into the river. “What, Dutch.”

“Can you just give me…a little more time.”

Arthur squinted at him, trying to suss out his agenda. “More time.”

“Yes,” said Dutch, releasing his shoulders back, holding out his hands in reason. “Just a little…more…time.”

“Time for what, Dutch?”

“Time to—to get us out of this…this mess that you so deftly pointed out. All of us. Time for me to do my part in giving you and yours a real chance at a better life.”

“In Tahiti?” said Arthur. “I don’t wanna go to Tahiti, Dutch. That life, that fantasy. It ain’t for me.”

“It doesn’t have to be Tahiti,” said Dutch. “That’s a—a pipe dream. It’s over there.”

“Over where?”

“You know what I’m saying,” said Dutch. “I just mean—help me, Arthur.”

“Help you?”

“Help me figure out what to do. We can…have your wedding. Reverend Swanson, assuming we can get him sober enough for the day, can do it right here, at Shady Belle. Or we’ll get a church. A river boat with a ship captain. Whatever you and Miss Gaskill would prefer. We’ll get her a dress, a ring. We’ll get all the women dresses, and we’ll see the two of you through this. Like a family. And in our execution of your day—this monumental moment for you, and for her, we get a little. More. Time.”

Arthur studied him. He didn’t feel turned around, though he was surprised. “You wanna throw us a wedding?”

“Of course I do,” said Dutch. “You’re my children. Both of you. I want to give you the goddam world, Arthur.”

“And during this…time you’re asking for,” said Arthur. “While Mary Beth is busy with Abigail and Tilly, picking out a dress and a church, a ring from the jewelry shop in St. Denis, what’re you gonna ask me to do? Odd jobs for Mr. Angelo Bronte? Rob a bank? Collect debts? Get shot?”

Dutch shook his head right away. “No, son. No. Like I said before, I hear everything you’re saying. I won’t ask you to do anything if it means risking your life.”

“You won’t.”

“No. That is what you want, isn't it?"

Arthur nodded, once.

"I just—help me," pleaded Dutch.

“Help you what?”

“Help me formulate a plan, Arthur. To get us out of here.”

“You want my help, formulating a plan to get us out of here?”

“Yes. Yours. And Hosea’s, of course. The three of us, we work together, not separately—with and not against one another—I think we can do it, Arthur. I really do.”

Arthur pressed his eyes shut. He shook his head. "Are you gonna actually listen to me, Dutch?" he said. "Are you gonna keep accusing me of things like betrayal and losing my faith? Because I hear it when you say those things to me, and they don't feel good."

"I'll listen," said Dutch, straightening up, appearing to be strong and focused. Maybe like the old Dutch, before Annabelle got taken away. "I will."

Staring at him hard, Arthur was picking through a fiery landscape trying to figure out whether this was a reliable pledge. "Can I believe you?"

“Yes,” said Dutch. "And I'll prove it. I just need a little more time."

“How much time,” said Arthur. “In this grand scheme of yours, how much time do you reckon you need.”

“One month,” said Dutch, hands on his hips again. “The way I see it, Arthur, we don’t have much longer than that anyway. The Pinkertons—somebody’s gonna find us eventually.”

“And I should take that gamble. For one month,” said Arthur.

“I am not telling you what to do,” said Dutch. “I am only. Asking.”

Arthur bit down, flexed his jaw real hard. “I need to talk to her,” he said. “I need to see what—how she’s feeling.”

“By all means,” said Dutch, back on his toes again, full of hope and that tell tale van der Linde idealism. “Take the night. Take tomorrow, too. Talk to Mary Beth. Let me know what it is you decide. When you decide.”

Arthur nodded. He looked over to the side of the house, by the medicine wagon. He saw Tilly playing fetch with Cain the dog. “Fine.”

“One more thing,” said Dutch.

Arthur sighed. “What’s that.”

“It ain’t specifically about you and Mary Beth—who, by the way, I think is a splendid woman—a beautiful woman at that, and I have no doubt she’ll bring you infinite happiness for the rest of your days—”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get on with it. This is about Bronte, I presume?”

“It is, my good sir.” He turned to look back at the house, with Arthur. Together, they measured its dying grace. “Mr. Bronte has invited us, meaning me and my associates, to the gilded cage.”

“Which is?”

“A party. A fabulous social engagement to be attended by the likes of every important person in this greater southern region of the United States. It’s in St. Denis, at the Mayor’s house.”

“A party?” said Arthur, disbelieving. “He’s invited us to a party? At the Mayor’s house?”

“Yes, sir. I was thinking you, me, Hosea, maybe Bill—”

“Bill?”

“Well, we can’t bring Javier or Lenny or Charles, not to an event populated by the veritable scum of the earth. And we need a seasoned man on the job. Somebody who can keep his mouth shut and just look…big.”

Arthur waved him off. “If you say so.”

“Anyway, you didn’t let me finish.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Arthur. “Please, continue.”

“As I was saying,” said Dutch. “You, me, Hosea, Bill, and Miss Gaskill are going to the ball.”

Full surprised, Arthur balked. “Miss Gaskill?” he said.

“That’s right.”

“You wanna bring Mary Beth on a job?”

“I do.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Just hear me out, Arthur.”

“The answer is no.”

“Please.”

Arthur sighed, hands on his hips.

“There will be no guns at this job, Arthur,” said Dutch. “No guns. No violence. No danger whatsoever. It’s a party. It’s…reconnaissance.”

“Reconnaissance for what?” said Arthur.

“Reconnaissance for...what we might be able to get out of all this. If there's anything to be gotten, of course.”

“And how can Miss Gaskill aid us in our…reconnaissance?”

“We dress her up. We call her your wife—an oil heiress from Galveston, Texas. She injects enough charm into the situation to throw Bronte off by even a sliver, and she elevates us and our station in the meantime. With oil money at our back, Bronte will be far less likely to mess with our intentions, Arthur.”

“But we don’t got no oil money at our back.”

“Details, my boy,” said Dutch. “Details.”

Arthur dropped his chin to his chest, shook his head like he’d never heard something both so certifiably insane and yet oddly ingenious. “Why Mary Beth? Why not Abigail?”

“Because we need him to believe the story,” said Dutch. “Surely a true romantic I-talian like himself will appreciate the heat between you. It’ll add a whole new layer of truth to the plan. And we can’t bring John. Those fresh scars of his are likely to...scare the delicate nobles. Plus, Mary Beth has a quintessential American style. Big hair, big eyes, freckles. She looks like an oil heiress, and you know it.”

Arthur gave him a long and careful look, almost scathing. Dutch was holding up his hands, as if in surrender. “It ain’t a bad plan,” said Arthur. “But I don’t know.”

“No guns,” said Dutch. “I promise you. Talk to Hosea. He’ll back me up on this.”

“I will talk to Hosea,” said Arthur. “And this is another thing I need to talk to Mary Beth about, since I don’t know that she’ll go for it.”

“In which case, we’ll ask fair Abigail,” said Dutch. “A worthy understudy, by all means. The two of you have...a history anyway, don't you?”

Arthur gave him a look. "I ain't got no history with Abigail, sir. We've only ever been friends."

"Well, then, you'll fake it."

“When’s the party," said Arthur.

“The day after tomorrow, in the evening.”

“Fine,” said Arthur. He adjusted his hat, looked around. “Fine. We done here?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Good,” said Arthur. Somewhere up in the yard, you could hear a scuffle take place. Likely Bill, already punch drunk at six in the evening. Arthur looked right at Dutch then, very serious and very hard. “I’m choosing to trust you, Dutch,” he said. “I’ll talk to Mary Beth. You and me, we can reconvene tomorrow.”

Dutch leaned in close then, real close to Arthur’s face. He clapped one hand to each of Arthur’s shoulders, lowered his voice. “Thank you, son.” Then he pushed off, tipped his hat, and went up the porch steps and into the house.

Arthur took a very deep breath.

That night, Arthur and Mary Beth lie in Arthur’s bed, entangled and post-sex, with Mary Beth’s hair big and everywhere, and Arthur lighting another cigarette. He'd been smoking a lot that night—all through dinner, more than usual. He smoked, sure, thought Mary Beth, but he wasn’t really the chain-smoking variety by any means. She mostly saw him smoke under two circumstances—nerves and idle boredom. He was flexing his hand open and shut when she plucked the cigarette from between his lips and brought it to her own. She took a single drag and then handed it back to him.

“You’re smoking a lot,” she said.

He seemed surprised. "I am?"

“You gonna tell me what happened with Dutch?”

Arthur glanced down at the cigarette. He put it out on the window sill. Then he looked at her. She looked real pretty in the light from the moon, as it was coming through the window casting all in its lines of silver. He sighed. He kissed her. “A lot happened with Dutch,” he said.

“Tell me.”

Arthur put a little bit of hair behind her ear. He told her all about their conversation, starting with the beginning, skipping over the Bronte stuff for the time being. Mary Beth listened with intent. She held his hands as he talked. "He's happy?" she said at some point. She had had her misgivings, it was true. She didn't know what to expect.

“Well, he’s a difficult man to read,” said Arthur. “I don’t always trust him. But he did seem—I don’t know—halfway sincere in all this. I known the man a long time. I like to think I can see some stuff coming, or at least for what it is. He was happy for us, in his way. He didn’t try to poison me or challenge me. At least not in any overt fashion. But he did ask for more time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he wants us to wait a little bit before we cut and run.”

Mary Beth picked up Arthur’s hand. She traced the calluses and how they ran like little mountain ranges through his palm. “How much time?” she said.

“A month,” he said.

“That ain’t so bad,” said Mary Beth, shrugging. “What does he want you to do, in the meantime, I mean?”

“That’s just the thing,” said Arthur, tracing his big fingers past her arm. “He said he wanted me to stick with him, to try and help him formulate a plan to get us all out of here. He said he wouldn’t subject me to no violence. He said it didn’t have to be like that no more, said he understood why I needed to protect myself. I thought it sounded insane, but I had to believe him, in the moment.”

Mary Beth was looking at him. She palmed his jaw to make him look at her. “Do you believe him?” she said.

Arthur blinked, nodded. “I think so,” he said. “It still don’t mean nothing. I need to know how you feel. What you wanna do, Mary Beth.”

“You know me, Arthur,” she said. “I been doing this for five years. What’s another month?”

“Because a month, Mary Beth, turns into two months, turns into six, turns into a year.”

“That won’t happen,” she said.

Arthur thought on this, kissed the back of her hand, grazing his thumb past her delicate knuckles. She had a way with simple truths. She was right.

“Give him his month,” she went on. “Unless you sincerely don’t want to, Arthur. If that’s the case, and you ain't trusting in him, or the situation, then let’s go. Let’s leave in the morning. I’m with you. I wanna go, too. I don't wanna be a...van der Linde girl forever. I wanna be your girl. Wherever we end up. But I can be practical, too, Arthur, and I also know that it don’t have to be right this minute in order to come true.”

Staring at her, he got calm. Got peaceful. Wanted to rest. He nodded. “Okay,” he said. “We'll give him his month and try to stay...I don't know...positive I guess. But we’ll play it by ear, too. If things get…out of hand for any reason, we’re gone. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, and she kissed him on the forehead. Then she kissed him on the mouth. They kissed more. It was moving back in that heated direction again like it always seemed to be. She was always wanting for him in those days, and so she reached into the sheets to find him half-hard—but he stopped her, smiling, took her by the wrist. “What’s the matter?” she said.

“There’s one more thing,” he said, looking at her.

“With what?” she said. She was trying not to get too dreamy.

“Dutch wants you to come on a job with us,” he said. “Day after tomorrow.”

“What?” she said, sort of coming to. She sat up real straight and pushed the hair off her face. She had forgotten all about what she'd just been doing. “What kind of job?”

“A party,” he said. He placed his big hand on her knee. “A fancy party, at the Mayor’s house in St. Denis. Dutch called it reconnaissance. He wants you to come along and pretend to be some oil man’s daughter, from Texas.”

Mary Beth covered her mouth and started laughing. “An oil man’s daughter from Texas?”

“That’s right. You’d be posing as my wife. He thinks having some sort of status, running with us, that might keep Bronte in check.”

“Why me?” she said.

“Because you’re with me,” he said. “Makes it more…believable. I don’t know. Plus, you’re you. You got the right look. It makes sense, I just—I don’t know, Mary Beth. What do you think?”

“Just a party?” she said. “With people everywhere?”

“Yes,” said Arthur. “Dutch said no guns. No fighting or anything like that. Just surveying. I'm gonna double-check with Hosea, but also, I know that Dutch is planning to bring Hosea with on the job. My feelings is, he wouldn't be doing that unless he knew it was guaranteed to be safe."

"Why's that?"

"Because Dutch don't like risking Hosea's life," said Arthur. "I seen it. Only lately, since Hosea's health has started to...decline. It's one of the reasons I keep finding myself believing him when he says he won't put me at no unnecessary risk either. Though I suppose that could also be my childish naiveté talking."

"You ain't childish," said Mary Beth. "What you're saying makes perfect sense."

Arthur shrugged. "Thanks, Mary Beth."

“Do you think I can pull it off?” she said.

"Pull what off?"

"Being an oil man's daughter? From Texas?"

Arthur renewed his grip on her knee. “I think you can pull off anything, Mary Beth. It’s just a matter of whether you’re comfortable with the situation or not.”

She sighed, thought about it, looking out the window. Outside, there were coyotes yelping and howling in the distance. You could hear rummaging, too, throughout the camp, while Pearson and Susan packed up their business from the day. “Do I get to wear a fancy dress?” said Mary Beth after a little while.

Arthur found this amusing. He nodded, smiling real low. “Yes, you do.”

“Then count me in,” she said. She grabbed his face with both hands, and she kissed him good. “I never been to a fancy party before.”

“Me neither,” said Arthur.

“Then at least it’ll be memorable,” she said.

“Hopefully not too memorable.”

She kissed his eyes. He was relaxed now. Soft and sleepy. She was, too. Like a big blanket of cotton pulled over them. Like they were floating out on a limb somewhere, in the clouds.

Arthur pushed the hair all off her shoulders then, kissed the top of her head as she nestled in beside him.

After a little while of leaning, Arthur realized he had been listening to himself breathing in a slow and even fashion. He thought about what he had said to Dutch that day, about feeling safe, and feeling got, and how Dutch didn't seem to recognize these concepts, and that made Arthur sad. He decided to just take a risk that night, though he knew it was a good risk with plentiful odds, it was still a risk, but one worth taking nonetheless. The beauty and softness of this moment was too good and too pure. He took a deep breath, and he closed his eyes.

“Marry me,” he said to her, almost like he was not even thinking.

"What?" she said.

“Mary Beth," he said. "Marry me.”

She sat up then. Right away. She was alert. He just let his eyes fall open, looking up at her, lazy like. “Really?” she said.

He took her hand, his head heavy against the pillow. He had no fears at all. “Yes,” he said. “I don’t see no point in denying my intentions, or wasting time. Unless you’d like to wait, or you’re not sure—”

She gathered up his hands, brought them to her lips, smiling, listening.

“I ain’t got no ring, not yet at least," Arthur continued. "I’m sorry about that. Maybe I should’ve…planned this out better.”

“Don’t need a ring,” she said, almost crying. She put both of her hands on top of his head, like she was covering him, and she kissed his hair. She whispered, "Yes."

He just smiled. He put his arms around her and it was like sinking—through the mattress, through the floor, into the earth. A familiar sensation he felt, being with Mary Beth. He loved her so much. It was like a story. She made the future seem possible and less like dying every day. The coyotes were still howling in the swamps, but he didn't care. He could already hear Javier, just swearing up a storm, heading out to shoot them quiet, or at least chase them off into the terrain. He and Mary Beth talked a little bit more before they fell asleep. She was shaken and excited but she did manage to tell him about how Charles had taught her how to make poison for dipping arrows.

Arthur laughed. "What'll do with your poison arrows?" said Arthur.

"Shoot all our enemies," she said, matter of fact. His eyes were closed, but he could hear the smiling in her voice. "What else?"

Arthur nodded. He could see it. He fell asleep after that, dreaming of river boats.

[lazycollectionofcoffee]

Stranger Things 3 Rambles

What we know so far from season 2

At the end of season two we see El closing the gate. We are told that she will have to wait another year before coming out of hiding. Sam Owens gives Hopper El’s birth certificate which declares him as the father. Nancy and Jonathan are together, which means poor Steve is left alone. The lab is closed down, and Murray Buaman knows a good portion of the truth.

Of course Will is okay, and the Duffers have said that they will be lying off his character so he doesn’t suffer as much in season three. I think we can also safely assume that Max and Lucas are still going strong after their cute kiss at the end of season 2 along with Mike and Eleven.

What we’ve been told

We have been told a few times that this season is not only taking place in the summer of 1985, but I will have a Back to The Future influence. We will also be getting a lot of summer love and romance. I can’t wait to see what they do with all the little ships and how they are going to grow some of the friendships. We also know that it will revolve around July 4th that is pretty much a dead giveaway. For anyone who is familiar or aware of the significance of July 4th, it is an American holiday.

We have heard Noah Schnapp mention “It’s spreading” again, and I can’t wait to see how they bring that into the story. I would like to think it has to do with the red vines shown in the poster given to us on New Year’s, and it probably has to do with the rats as well since they are a species known to spread disease.

We also know that the mall is going to have great significance in the story line. Star Court mall is going to be the center of whatever is happening this season.

We also have the kids growing up so it’s going to be interesting to see how they bring in the coming of age vibes, and how they are going to show the angst and pain of being a teenager.

Now for what we see

The trailer starts off great. We have the entire party back together, and even though Lucas gets blinded by hair spray I think it’s safe to say that they are all relatively happy. Their choice of Baba O’Riley or Teenage Waste Land as people tend to call it by The Who is brilliant, and I don’t think they could have picked a better song to go with the trailer and overall theme of what is being shown.

I first want to focus on the big antenna that is erected by the party on the grass hill. My thoughts go back to A.V. club. I would like to think they are trying their hand of maybe building their own radio; trying to see how far they can get their radio waves to go with a hand built antenna. I think this could play a big role in government spying, and or listening in to what they are messing with. I also think of alien communication. Even now people still use large ground sidelights and antennas to try and find weird alien radio waves in space. This could also be used for alternate realities or dimensions. It also reminds me of the antenna from E.T. I could be digging too deep into it, but I thought that this was really interesting and I can’t wait to see what they do with it.

Side note: when they are raising it, it looks like the rising of the American flag. Here’s a picture for reference.

I also found it cool that Mike and Eleven weren’t there when they were putting it up. Maybe they snuck away to have their own time. If you guys follow me you know I’m all about the Mileven vibes so I can’t wait to see what that’s all about. I will of course talk more about them further down this thread.

Hawkins Post

I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what Nancy and Jonathan are up to. When it came to season two I never saw them trying to expose the lab, it was a surprise to me. My guess is that they are just trying to get a summer job, but they end up uncover something they didn’t mean to find out. Maybe something to do with the mayor and his relationship to the lab or just something that happens with the upside down. We do get like a one second clip of Murray toward the end, so maybe they are working together again.

We do know that they said one of the new characters is going to be a journalist so I guess we will see how that goes, and what happens with them.

Let’s talk about Billy for a moment

I’m actually a really big fan of Billy. I wrote a post about him months ago, you can find that here if you’re interested. Now I don’t condone his actions, but I’m all about that human antagonist, and I really hope he gets a small redemption ark, but I don’t think that’s happening. It’s clear to see that in the trailer he is a life guard. Episode three is titled “The Case of the Missing Lifeguard”, he also has some weird infection on his arm. This leads me to believe that he is the lifeguard that goes missing. This infection could also make him go a little crazy meaning he could have done something to the girl lifeguard we see him looking at.

I’m one of those weird people that wants to know if something happens between him and Karen. It’s such a real life situation and I really like that they don’t stray away from those real life stories. We didn’t really see Mike’s family, but I hope they make a good appearance in the show.

Hopper and Joyce

Jopper is end game; I don’t care what anyone says. I want to know if he asked Joyce to dinner and she didn’t show and that’s why he’s alone at the nice restaurant. His speech of wanting her feel safe is interesting too. It’s like he’s trying to tell her that he wants her to stay, like maybe Joyce was thinking of leaving Hawkins after everything that’s happened. I could see this happen since in season two Bob brings up moving out of Hawkins with her and the boys. I’m sure she wants to leave all those bad memories behind and get Will out of that environment too. She probably still dealing with Bob’s death and finds it easier to just leave.

We didn’t see much Joyce in the trailer and I really want to know what they do with her character. I’m sure she’s going to have a lot of ptsd like she did in season two. We are told in season one that she always had issues with anxiety so I can’t wait to see what they do with that.

Coming Of Age

I am interested in seeing who Mike is talking to when he talks about not being kids anymore. At first I was like, “is he talking to Will” and then I thought that he would never talk to Will with aggression like that. Maybe he’s talking to Dustin, or he could be talking to his mom. Maybe she doesn’t like how fast he’s growing up and this is what he tells her. I mean, it’s clear to see that this isn’t just the kids being kids anymore. I kind of want to hear your guys take on these kids getting older. For me it really just makes me happy. This is bringing me back to my years as a teenager and is giving me serous vibes right now. I totally get that feeling of what it’s like to be in that age of not being a kid, but not being an adult either. I’m sure there is going to be a lot of angst that can tie into that.

Will

*sigh* they tell us that they won’t be putting Will through a lot and then we get this trailer. It’s clear that he isn’t emotionally there. I think it might have a lot to do with Joyce and her wanting to move (if that is what’s happening). I don’t think he wanted to leave his friends behind, but he might also feel like they have already left him behind. Mike has El, Lucas has Max, and Dustin has Steve. Who does that leave for Will? The poor guy just can’t catch a break and it makes me so sad. He’s already missed so much because of everything that he’s been through that I think he isn’t ready to leave his childhood behind.

Guy With The Gun

At first I thought the guy in the mirror maze was after Hopper. And then I really started to think. The kids are probably at the Fun Fair, they are probably in that mirror maze. I think he might be after El and if someone gets in the way he’s going to kill them. I think Hopper is there trying to keep them safe. Maybe he wants to kill El, maybe he wants to kill someone else, but he does have a silencer on that gun so he is ready to shoot.

He looks special opps so we’ll see.

Erica

She back! I’m so freaking excited. Seeing her crawling through the air ducks freaks me out, I don’t want her to get hurt. We see a second of her with Steve, Dustin, and Robin and I’m here for this. I don’t know I just had to gush over it because I love her character and I can’t want to see how they develop her.

Mr. Mayor

I’m going to say a no to this guy. I think he’s hiding something and I don’t like it. I feel like he might have known what was going on at the lab, and he’s trying to sweep it under the rug. It’s too early to tell, but there is no trust.

Cary Elwse playing him is exciting though. I love Princess Bride and I also love him is Psych so I’m so happy that he is a part of this show.

El and Max

I’m so happy! I think this is the friendship we have all been waiting for. I love the scene with them in the mall, and I also love the picture of them eating ice cream on what looks like a bus.

Forget Mike and Lucas. These girls are goals for sure.

Ugh!!! El has freedom and I’m living for it. To see them getting along and to have this friendship that every teenage girl dreams of is just great. I’m thriving.

Teenage Romance

Can we just talk about the fact that Mike and El  are that couple. They are holding hands and just staying close. I just don’t even know what to say about this. I’m thinking about writing it on a separate post, along with lumax because this is just so exciting.

El

This poor girl. She looks so happy at the beginning and it so obvious it’s going to fall apart. There is a part when she is in the void, it looks like she was in the tub or she falls through the tub. I wonder if she tries to use water again to help her really figure out what’s going on. There’s also a part where it looks like she’s falling and reaching for help. *sigh* this poor girl. I’m so scared she is going to be taken away by the end of the season. I don’t know, let’s see what happens.

Guys, there is so much I didn’t touch on, but these are the things that really made me think. What do you guys think? What’s your opinion? I know a lot of this is going to change as I continue to watch the trailer and they begin to release more stuff.

I will say they did great on not really touching on the story line. A lot of trailers these days just give everything away and I love that they didn’t really give us much even though it was like 2 minutes of pure fuel.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Secret-Diary’s Annual Awards Show, 2018

Here we are. Xmas is over for another year and the last dregs of 2018 are circling the plug-hole of time like inedible week-old gravy. Soon, the drain-unblocker that is New Year will be emptied on top of it, disposing of it forever… and nobody will be very sorry. It’s always possible that, in the last four days of the year, something incredible will happen. Maybe Will Self will invent time travel and go back to the early 1600s to become Shakespeare. Maybe Theresa May’s face will swing outward like a poorly-secured cupboard door and reveal an electric aquarium where a panel of Sea Monkeys control all her movements and decisions. Barring both of those two events, however, I think its safe to say that 2018 was a complete write-off.

Mainly, this year has felt like an unnecessary and unwanted continuation of 2017. 2017: Part Two, if you like. Brexit continued to drag on like a wounded moose looking for a place to die. The idiotic decision to cast Whittaker as Doctor Who, made in 2017, was enacted here in 2018, causing waves of uncontainable ennui to sweep a nation. The Space Elevator still remains resolutely unbuilt and Elon Musk (mankind’s Token Sensible Person) doesn’t seem overly inclined to do anything about that just yet. In short, we’re standing at the far edge of a year that has been, by and large, a complete and total waste of everyone’s time… especially mine. I’d normally leave my End Of Year Awards for New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day, but fuck it. Almost everything else this year has been  vaguely disappointing, so let’s stick to the theme. We’ll ejaculate these awards out early and get it over with. You all know how this works by now: I make up some tenuously-related categories and proclaim a cultural event or piece of media the winner according to the dictates of my own diseased logic and the voices in my head. Let’s just crack on.

THE AWARD FOR BEST DVD OR BLU-RAY RELEASE Normally, I try to make the category names funny, but the best DVD/Blu-Ray released in 2018 was the remastered Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Boxset. Somebody cleaned up a six-episode sci-fi show from the 1980s and stuck a bunch of special features on it and it was instantly better than anything actually produced in the present day. That’s funny enough in itself, assuming you find cultural atrophy funny.

THE INSTANTLY-REGRETTED WANK AWARD FOR BEST MOVIE STARRING A SEXY FISH MAN … Goes to The Shape of Water, which may actually have come out last year. I also really enjoyed Aquaman, too, but I can’t pretend it was a superior piece of film-making. You know what, though? The fact that there are two movies about sexy fish men having non-conformist adventures says something important. It says “OUR CG ANIMATORS HAVE FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO WATER, SO LET THE GOOD TIMES FUCKING ROLL!”

THE BERNIE MADOFF AWARD FOR MOST SUSPICIOUS DISCREPANCY … Goes to Doctor Who’s score on Rotten Tomatoes. Yeah, you knew you weren’t getting through this drivel without having to listen to my opinions on Doctor Who again, so let’s just get it out the way early. Critics gave the most recent series of Whittaker-flavoured Who a 94% rating. Fans gave it 31%. So people who can’t risk saying something culturally unacceptable because they could be fired loved it, while people who cared enough to review it unpaid and had no consequences to fear fucking loathed it. Let’s try not to blame Whittaker, for this though. It’s actually Chibnall’s fault, with his determination to minimise the sci-fi elements in the world’s most beloved sci-fi show. And the BBC’s fault for hiring Chibnall. And all our faults for not dragging every single BBC exec into the streets and whipping them to death years ago. Jodie Whittaker casting was a point-scoring ploy on behalf of a cynical organisation desperately trying and failing to be progressive, but never forget that it’s just the tip of an iceberg made of frozen penguin shit.

THE SPECIAL AWARD FOR RUINING AN ENTIRE NATION … Goes to Donald Trump, who is a fucking arsehole of truly unprecedented proportions. At the time of writing, he’s currently throwing a massive temper tantrum and has shut down entire branches of government just because the real politicians won’t give him the money he needs to build his preposterous, unworkable and illegal border-wall. Thanks to this one pathetic tool’s incalculably large ego, America is currently in a state of abject chaos.

THE AWARD FOR MOST NEEDLESSLY HARROWING TV SHOW Did you see The Haunting of Hill House on Netflix? If not, congratulations: you might need slightly fewer anti-depressants than people who did. A spooky romp through the lives of people who used to live in a haunted house turns into an uninterrupted misery binge when it starts digging into their feelings. One of them is a drug addict, one of them is depressed in a dangerous and unstable way, one of them has issues with intimacy, one of them is a writer reliving his own miserable past for a living and one of them is a straight-up, 24 carat arsehole. Oh, and they all sort-of hate their beleaguered father for not saving their mother (who was mad as a tin of pigeons) from Death By Ghost. Thanks, Netflix. 2018 wasn’t a deep enough well of despair already.

THE AWARD FOR MOST UNDERAPPRECIATED HUMAN BEING … Goes to Jeremy Corbyn, who spent his Xmas dispensing broth and socialist good-vibes in a soup-kitchen. He’s constantly attacked and ridiculed in the media… possibly because the British media isn’t used to dealing with high-ranking politicians who aren’t psychopaths. Also, he once accidentally high-fived Dianne Abbott's tit, thereby gifting the world the most entertaining five seconds of television in history.

THE NAKED BRIAN COX AWARD FOR MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER … Goes to Sapphire and Steel, a TV from the 70s that I recently rediscovered. Trying to explain it in normal English will undoubtedly make me sound like a man whose brain is slowly eating itself, because it defies all ordinary conceptions. Nevertheless, I’ll try. It’s about two elements from the period table who are also people from a higher dimension who handle anomalies in space-time using methods that make perfect sense but aren’t necessarily clear to the audience. This prevents entities that often manifest as patches of light or shadow from breaking into time from outside and stealing people or feeding off the resentment of the dead. Make sense? Well, it will when you watch it, and you absolutely should watch it.

THE NAKED STEVE BUSCEMI AWARD FOR MOST EYE-GOUGINGLY HORRIBLE THING EVER This is actually a tie between that time Theresa May attempted to dance and… pretty much the entire year itself. If 2017 was like watching a man fall off a cliff, 2018 has been like watching him hit every outcropping of rock as he plunged downwards towards a merciless ocean.

THE AWARD FOR MOST SLATHERING BETRAYAL OF A FAN-BASE … Goes to Fallout 76, which, by all accounts, turned the bleak, lonely world of Fallout into a perfunctory MMO with all the beloved series’ characteristic and recognisable features sucked out or watered down. A great game series screwed over in the name of chasing casual gamers. Oh, when will the industry learn. Never. The answer is never.

THE SHATNER AWARD MOST DRAMATIC OVERREACTION TO AN UNDERWHELMING SITUATION … Goes to the UK tabloid ‘news’ papers, who went into swivel-eyed paroxysms of outrage and confusion when a handful of drones brought air traffic to a halt at Gatwick Airport almost a week before Xmas. They squealed angrily about how ‘possible terrorism’ and how Xmas had been ruined for thousands of people (despite the fact that they were perfectly entitled to just get on other flights a day or two later). It later turned out that there hadn’t necessarily been any drones, and that air traffic had been brought to a standstill because the police got confused and mistakenly thought that there were.

And that’s more or less it. Lots of other things happened in 2018, but I never made any concerted effort to remember them, beyond noting that they were all pretty bloody stupid. Roll on 2019. I have no reason to believe it will be any better than 2018, globally speaking, but maybe I’ll finally buy a copy of Red Dead Redemption 2 and stop caring.

[breakingarrows]

What makes a game a good game? I’ve been thinking about this, as well as what I have to offer to the greater conversations that are perpetually in motion Online. Taking a break from my usual outlet due to a huge feeling of apathy, I looked back towards my younger days just posting whatever it was on my mind on Tumblr and thought that was a time I was more satisfied. Not with a byline or great recognition but just kinda creating and putting it out there for nobody but myself to look over on a portfolio. So here are some thoughts on game criticism and media and the way they are used and could be used.

There is no such thing as an objective review. A great example of this is Objective Game Reviews that would post “Game reviews that are fact, not opinion.” An example from their “review” of RAGE:

One of the weapons in RAGE is the “wingstick,” a thrown blade weapon that can slice off the limbs of enemies and return to the player. Wingsticks can be steered through the air by moving the crosshair, and if they hit a hard surface or an armored enemy they can break. The player can craft wingsticks and alternative ammunition with parts looted from the world or purchased from vendors. Normal ammunition can be looted from enemies and refilled during a fight, whereas if alternative ammunition runs out the player must pause to craft more.

Another great example is Jim Sterling’s “review” of Final Fantasy XIII. Sterling did not like Final Fantasy XIII, giving it a Below Average, 4/10, for Destructoid on March 16, 2010. Of course reactions ranged from “whoa!” to “you didn’t even play the game.” In response, Sterling wrote up an objective review:

The videogame has graphics and sound. The graphics are seen with your eyes and the sound is heard by your ears. When you start the game the graphics and the sound will occur almost at the same time, letting you know that the game has started. There is also text which players can read.

Gamers who cry out against reviews that are not objective just disagree with what is being said, and don’t actually want an objective review that is just listing the things in the game as factual statements with no opinion on whether those things are good or bad. The same can be said of those who cry that a reviewer is “biased” towards a certain game/company/genre/etc. Most famously this is hurled towards Nintendo reviews for games that are perceived as bad but get good reviews “because Nintendo.” Sometimes it can be hard to not fall into this trap, as my reaction towards Skyward Sword getting hugely praised in 2011 was viewed as coming from people who couldn’t help but worship at the feet of Zelda and Nintendo.

The issue though, of universal praise for nearly every major title every year is something worth discussing. Both Nick Capozzoli, Vincent Kinian, and Tevis Thompson have talked about this before, the latter with a bit more hostility and other issues all his own, but the fact remains that there is a deep hole of variety when it comes to game reviews. This isn’t helped by the fact that more sites are beginning to realize the stupidity of assigning a score to a game, as if a number can accurately sum up a game’s worth and that elevating all games on the scale of numerical weight means games never meant to be compared to each other will be. See the meme of IGN’s review of Party Babyz Wii whose 7.5 was copy+pasted next to “better” games that got a lower review score for years.

Tevis links back the inability for game critics to come out and say Red Dead Redemption 2 sucks to the universally praised Bioshock Infinite of 2013, a game that mainstream media made multiple offerings to in the form of breathless praise, whereas others wrote out their criticisms on the periphery, best exemplified by the recent Critical Compilation on the game.

One critic he mentions is Videogamedunkey, a YouTuber who puts out short videos about whatever game is currently in the discourse. His slant is generally as an entertainment, comedian, wanting to make his viewers laugh, but also he talks about what he liked in the game and what he didn’t like. With Red Dead Redemption 2 Dunkey’s conclusion is the excess bears down on the game and he became as disillusioned as protagonist Arthur Morgan does with his mentor Dutch. It’s a fine video/review, though doesn’t nearly have the bite Tevis appears to want with regards to Red Dead Redemption 2, a bite I personally found in Jess Joho’s review of the game for Mashable which most aligned with my own feelings on the game and one he does list. Listing Dunkey also either shows Tevis’ ignorance or agreement with another Dunkey video: Game Critics, which provoked lots of conversations about people who review games for larger sites. Though, reading through Tevis’ piece, that video might be why he apparently looks up to Dunkey for good criticism. It is not like some of the issues Dunkey lists are wrong.

You’ve got your fanboys, your hobbyists, your escapists.  Your ‘objective’ reviewers, your consumer advisers, your spec hounds.  Your people pleasers, your twitter cheerleaders, your industry bootlickers.  Your never hate a game philosophers, your games are hard to make sympathizers, your but some people like it! tsk-tskers.  You’ve got old critics who’ve given up and young critics who’re getting there.  You’ve got so many internet professionals and professional apologists.  The tired, the self-censored, the players of the game.  None mutually exclusive.  All guardians of the status quo.

I think the real issue here is that the required work to put into really proving this sort of thing is massive. Reading and sorting the reviews based on site and author, taking into account Twitter posts that extend the conversation into an endless timeline unsearchable by keyword due to the often vague nature of criticizing criticism publicly. There have probably been hundreds of tweets in response to just Tevis’ blog as well as games criticism in general. It seems like the conversation about reviewers, their role, their work, their compensation, their method, is repeated ad nauseum monthly. Games media loves to talk about games media. I mean here I am, someone much lower than those I’ve mentioned, talking about it myself.

This sort of work loses the point, about what is it that makes a game good? Objective reviews are useless, subjective reviews are useful. What makes a subjective opinion worth reading? What makes the work their talking about worth something? These are the sorts of things that have many answers.

Some small things to get out of the way are some more useless things, specifically the belief that a 10/10 means a game is perfect, is a belief that is hard to get around despite how simple it is. A 10/10 just means it is the pinnacle of what games can achieve and others should be more like this one. What constitutes a 10/10 is, as everything is, up to personal taste. For myself, 10/10’s practically don’t exist since no piece of art is without flaw. We are all humans. Remember before when I said assigning numerical value is stupid? Well given the circumstances of Metacritic, assigning a numerical score might not actually be a dumb thing when it's used as a statement, a punctuation at the end of your text. If Tevis used numerical scores in his reviews and got onto Metacritic he would be able to wield them much more usefully as a way to vocalize dissent through metascore than as just a page of text most will pass by without reading.

Phrases such as “Isn’t for everyone” or “not a perfect [x].” are also useless in terms of criticism. Not every game is made for everyone or could even accomplish that if it were the intention. That phrase can be applied to any and every game and is therefore useless. As mentioned before, no piece of art is perfect, so simply stating that as some sort of qualifier that, “I like this but it’s far from perfect,” is such a pathetic qualifier that should never be used.

A review worth reading is one that brings a point, a perspective, an idea that you didn’t have before about a piece of art and put it in your head. It also has to have supporting evidence for its conclusions, the sort of Philosophy 102 cogent argumentative qualities that blew my mind as a college kid. Given that we have already had decades of consumer grade reviews: ones that break a game into categories and tie them together into a qualitative statement at the end, that we would be able to move on from that into something different. This includes the derogatorily described “blog” reviews, ones that are less about whether or not the graphics never stuttered and more about whether or not a personal connection was made to a specific aspect of a game, whether large or incidental. These are the kind of conversations that bring something new than whether or not the guns sounded satisfactory. This is the sort of conversation that differentiates critical YouTubers like Raycevick from Noah Caldwell-Gervais. Both put out videos on the recent Wolfenstein series and both took very different approaches to what they wanted to say about the game. Raycevick was more focused on the mechanics, the variation of the map, the way it linked together its setpieces. Noah was more interested in what the game had to say about America, Nazism, and the ways to resist and cope with a fallen country. The former might make for a good quick recap of what the games are and what they do in a input-output sense (think right-trigger, left-trigger of Call of Duty), but it's the latter that does the digging into what the game is beyond whether the shooting was good or the stealth sections not too frustrating.

When ascertaining whether or not a game is good there are some easy questions to ask. Did I make an emotional connection? Was that emotional connection cheap (say showing a dog dying) or earned? Does the game have something to say about a topic and do I agree with or disagree with its conclusion about said topic? Did I enjoy spending time within the game and why? Was this a worthwhile spending of my time?

Mechanic’s based criticism is also valid, but personally less interesting. Does it matter if Anthem has good shooting and flying if the things surrounding it are bland? This is where subjectivity again comes in. So far, out of all the shlooters released, I’ve found that you can have the most mechanically satisfying circle, but if that is surrounded by mediocrity it doesn’t matter, it’s a bad game. I don’t care whether or not the shooting felt good in a game, I want to know if the things surrounding those mechanics is worth investing time into. Red Dead Redemption 2 had a rote shooting gallery mechanic underlying most all of its missions, and that couldn’t be saved by the characters and world surrounding it which left me feeling like I had wasted my time come the credits. Of course many felt the opposite, and its the ways we craft the arguments and explanations for why we felt that way that make a good criticism. A review is likely not going to and not meant to convince you that a game you hate is good, but it should at least allow you to understand why the author felt that way about it.

Something that has cropped up recently when covering games is the conditions under which they are made. As we, hopefully, work our way towards a labor revolution not only in games but across all aspects of culture, we have become more aware of the way corporations exploit the lower class workforce. AAA development means overwork, let’s not even get started on the lie of the 40 hour workweek, underpaid, and stress that routinely leads to the end of careers. Rockstar management came out and boasted about their 100 hour work weeks in New York Magazine, which was then qualified as just the writing team, and then was further qualified by a Kotaku report (that has been the norm) about the conditions under which Red Dead Redemption 2 was created. The question became whether or not this would affect reception of the game. It didn’t.

I sometimes struggled to enjoy Red Dead Redemption 2’s most impressive elements because I knew how challenging—and damaging—some of them must have been to make. Yet just as often, I found myself appreciating those things even more, knowing that so many talented people had poured their lives into crafting something this incredible.

The game currently has a 97 on Metacritic, there was only one “mixed” scored review, and even those who didn’t give scores offered only a slight hand wringing at the way the game was created in their text. Kotaku’s section ends with a shrug, “yeah the people who made this were exploited but I’ll be damned if that exploited work isn’t impressive.” It’s useless to have in the text as it leads nowhere, and the question of, “was their labor worth it?” should always be answered with a resounding NO. We are attempting to unionize the industry in order to keep exploitation from happening. What a fucking useless gesture to contemplate whether or not someone spending weeks crunching was “worth it.” It’s the sort of thing Tevis called out in his post,

They couch any troublesome truths in acceptable gamerese, outline all possible caveats, neuter any rhetorical force, maybe dress it up for their academic buddies while they’re at it.  Suddenly everything is ‘messy’ or ‘complicated’ or ‘full of fascinating contradictions’.  Sure, they’re ‘frustrated’, even ‘disappointed’, but they’re still rooting for the game.  And always with due deference to their audience.  It’s not for me but it’s cool if you and it’s totally just a taste thing now don’t get me wrong now I know what you’re thinking now I’m not saying that, y’all.

Some of this comes from the fact that games media is largely made up of, and rooted in, enthusiasts: people who do it out of a love for the media itself. This may best be exemplified by a recent (now deleted) tweet from Brian Altano, video host/producer at IGN Entertainment:

I've been working in the video game industry since 2007 and I don't think I've ever heard more than three people legitimately call themselves "game journalists" without being sarcastic, ironic, or putting it in air quotes while laughing about it. That's... not an actual thing.

Brian has never been someone you go to for criticism or news, the things journalists do. He exists to make you laugh, to entertain you. Going to Brian to determine whether or not you should buy a game will end with “Yes!” or “Maybe try it out.” Brian exemplifies the type of critic Tevis decries in his opening paragraph. He isn’t a critic, but he does represent a larger audience than critics do. There isn’t a real large audience for the type of work done at Bullet Points Monthly, or else their Patreon would be much higher than it currently is. People go to websites like IGN and GameSpot to have their already convinced minds reinforced that what they like is Important. This is why there are multiple articles whenever a new trailer or piece of information comes out about the next Star Wars or Marvel movie or Game of Thrones. These things are big so we have to talk about them and reinforce their importance, further enriching the pockets of corps like Disney, whose billion dollar company is immoral with its continued existence.

The roots of game criticism comes from the game magazines and websites of the 1990’s. Work that existed to be read and shared not because they did a good job interrogating the things they proclaimed to love but because they were entertaining to read and reinforced your love, whether it be Nintendo, Sega, Sony, or Microsoft. The same sort of circular reinforcement continues in the larger sites today, which is why AAA games will never fall below a favorable average on numerical compilation sites, with exceptions of course. Not that this sort of status quo is unique to just games media. Noam Chomsky, in the book On Western Terrorism, mentions how the media in the West give no time to dissenting opinion,

If you want to say that China is a totalitarian state you can say it, you know. If you want to say something like the U.S. is the biggest terrorist state in the world, they are not going to stop you, but you do sound like you are from Neptune, because you are not given the next five minutes to explain it. So you have two choices, to either repeat propaganda, repeat standard doctrine, or sound like you are a lunatic.

I hope you’ll forgive me for likening the universal love of game critics to the propaganda machine of western news media, as it's comically different in terms of importance, but the similarity is there. People who don’t conform to the generally accepted opinion on a game are labeled contrarians just looking to make a buck off a different opinion. Those who are praising Breath of the Wild are just Nintendo hacks. Those who call into question aspects of God of War are just SJW cucks.

Michael Thomsen touches on this status quo as well in his review of Jason Schreier’s book Blood, Sweat, and Pixels for The New Inquiry,

In these times, the most important task of game journalism isn’t to serve a public interest but to ensure that fans can continue to identify some version of themselves in the games they have played, and ensure future releases will allow them access to even deeper levels of self-expression and understanding. In playing the next game, owning the newest console, having an opinion on the latest patch, we feel like we can become stabler versions of ourselves, all at the cost of clearing out space—both mental and financial—for open-ended consumption of a form without any purpose beyond this increasingly tautological pleasure. This process is necessarily dehumanizing. Games matter because you are here to play them, and you remain here to play them because they matter.

We can do better, as being human is to strive to be more than we are (yeah its a corny Star Trek clip but that episode fucks me up). I think it should be obvious that better games criticism is probably pretty low in terms of importance when you look at other things, but I do think it has influence on creating and leading conversations, the kind that lead towards stronger rights for laborers and are more critical of the output of corporations who seek only to deepen their own pockets.

[danithebookaholic-blog]

NEW RELEASE!

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Demon Magic and a Martini (The Guild Codex: Spellbound #4) 

By Annette Marie

Published by: Dark Owl Fantasy Inc. Publication Date: April 12th 2019 Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy

Synopsis:

When I first landed a bartending job at the local guild, I didn’t know a thing about magic. These days, I’m practically an expert on the different magical classes, but there’s one nobody ever talks about: Demonica.

Turns out they have a good reason for that. My guild is strictly hellion-free, because who wants to risk life and limb to control the biggest bullies on the mythic playground?

Well, some people do, and now a demon has been loosed in the city. My three best friends are determined to slay it, but even badass combat mages are critically out-magicked. And that’s not all. The monster they’re tracking—it’s not hiding. It’s not fleeing. It’s not leaving a trail of corpses everywhere it goes.

The demon is hunting too. And in a city full of mythics, it’s searching for deadlier prey.

If we can’t unravel the demon’s sinister motivations, more innocent people will die, but finding the answers means digging into dark secrets … and learning truths I never wanted to know.

— Note: The three mages are definitely sexy, but this series isn’t a reverse harem. It’s 100% fun, sassy, fast-paced urban fantasy.

— THE GUILD CODEX: SPELLBOUND Three Mages and a Margarita (#1) Dark Arts and a Daiquiri (#2) Two Witches and a Whiskey (#3) Demon Magic and a Martini (#4)

Goodreads

Excerpt:

Six face-down cards were arranged in a circle. Sabrina gathered up the remaining deck and set it aside, then studied the six rectangles I’d selected.

“In this spread, we start with the card that represents your current situation.” She turned the top card, revealing a woman wearing a crown and holding a sword and a scale. “Justice. An ominous beginning ...”

Why was I not surprised that we were starting with bad news? “What does it mean?”

“You will need to make a decision soon—something that will irreversibly change your future. A choice you can’t come back from.”

Oh goody. Who didn’t love those kinds of decisions?

She touched the next card. “This one represents the cause of conflict.”

Flipping it, she frowned at the horned creature that dominated the card. A naked man and woman stood on either side of it, loose chains around their necks, the ends held by the beast.

My stomach sank to the floor. Under the illustration was the card’s name: The Devil. Sabrina tapped her cheek. “Hmm, not what I expected. Are you having issues with addiction,

Tori?”

“Uh, no.”

“What about a new obsession? An unusual fixation? Wanton temptation?”

“No, no, and no.”

She studied my face, then the card. “Could The Devil represent someone else in your life? Someone trapped by addiction or a compulsion of their own?”

The heavy weight dragging my innards to the earth’s core grew colder. I said nothing.

“Let’s see what the other cards reveal.” Her fingers nimbly turned the next one. The air rushed out of her lungs. “Oh.”

Even if her dismayed exhalation hadn’t been a dead giveaway, the card’s illustration was hardly inspiring: a heart impaled by three swords. How much did I want to bet the heart represented mine?

“The Three of Swords,” Sabrina whispered. “Heartbreak. Loss.” I pressed a hand to my hollow gut. “Is someone going to die?”

“Let’s keep going.” She hastily flipped over the next card, revealing a robed man holding a wand in the air. “The Magician! Yes, this is good. This means the loss you’re facing is within your control—you have the power to affect the outcome.”

That was encouraging, but also terrifying. “So, you’re saying ... I can maybe prevent someone from dying, then?”

She nodded and flipped over the second last card. “Oh, hmm. The Seven of Swords.”

“I got that card in my first reading. It meant ... betrayal? Because someone was deceiving me?”

“The Seven of Swords is the thief.” She pointed to the image of a man sneaking off with an armful of stolen weapons. “In this position in the spread, it speaks of you, not others. You are the thief.”

“I am not a—” I broke off, distracted by the thought of my Queen of Spades artifact. I had stolen that ... and my fall-spell crystal too.

“The thief keeps secrets and moves with stealth.” Sabrina considered the card. “Paired with the Magician, which is the power to enact your goals, this card is telling you how to reach the outcome you desire.”

“By stealing?”

She gave me a long look. “By embodying the virtues of the thief—caution, cunning, discretion, and deception.”

I wasn’t great at the first one, or the second, or ... well, any of those things. Lovely. I pointed at the last card. “That one is the outcome, right?”

Nodding, she touched two fingers to the back of the final card in the spread, then turned it over. A crumbling tower struck by lightning and lit by flames sparked recognition through me. I recognized it from my first reading.

“The Tower.” She sighed unhappily. “A foreboding omen. Chaos and upheaval are coming— soon. Even if you succeed, your life will irrevocably change.”

In the card’s illustration, a man and a woman had leaped from the burning tower and were plunging toward the dark abyss below. Gooseflesh erupted across my skin and I sucked in an unsteady breath. “Your cards never have anything good to say.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, I mean ... the Tower is also a card of redemption, so there’s that.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied sarcastically. “That makes it all better.”

Her gaze traveled across the spread, and she lightly touched the Devil card. “Do you know who the Devil represents?”

I studied the cards. The Devil holding a man and a woman in chains. A woman casting judgment. Two victims falling from a broken tower.

A heart pierced by three swords.

The tarot cards or the universe or whatever mystical force powered a diviner’s fortune telling was sending damn strong signals my way, and I could almost grasp it. The meaning hovered within reach—but the harder I focused on the elusive message, the higher my anxiety spiked.

Purchase:

Amazon

Author Bio:

Annette Marie is the author of Amazon best-selling YA urban fantasy series Steel & Stone, its prequel trilogy Spell Weaver, and romantic fantasy trilogy Red Winter. Her first love is fantasy, but fast-paced adventures and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She lives in the frozen winter wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it's not quite that bad) with her husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

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From one bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

Have a book you’d like to suggest or one you’d like me to review? Please feel free to leave your comments down below.

[barbosaasouza]

Most Anticipated Xbox One Games of 2018

There are a lot of fantastic games set to release this year across multiple platforms and those of us who enjoy gaming on Xbox One have a lot to look forward to in 2018. Though Xbox has had trouble with first-party exclusive content, the future is bright for Microsoft’s gaming platform.

For Xbox One, the idea of exclusive games has transcended the confines of a single platform and instead encompasses Microsoft’s other major platform, Windows 10 PC. A game that releases on one, typically releases on the other, and thanks to the Play Anywhere program, regardless of your preferred platform (PC or Xbox), you can play together.

Let’s be honest, Microsoft needs more exclusive games, and that is something Phil Spencer is aware of and has commented on in his interview on Unlocked. If what Phil Spencer has hinted at comes to fruition, we could be in store for an exciting E3 2018, with Microsoft revealing a big line-up of exclusives. So there is hope, for now though, let’s take a look at some of the most anticipated Xbox One games of 2018.

Crackdown 3

The original Crackdown came out 11 years ago, and on that day, Xbox 360 players fell in-love with the superhuman take on Grand Theft Auto. Sure, there was a sequel in 2010, but it paled in comparison to the first title. It’s been 8 years and a handful of delays, but we’re finally set to get Crackdown 3, and boy does it look good.

Aside from the handful of videos from E3 and gameplay videos floating around, we know very little about Crackdown 3 other than it is being developed through a collaborative effort with Reagent Games, Sumo Digital, Fuffian Games, and Cloudgine. Though what we do know is that Crackdown 3 is sticking with tradition, offering 4-player co-op and for the first time, a multiplayer experience. Look, there have been a lot of delays, but that certainly hasn’t dampened the excitement!

Red Dead Redemption 2

Red Dead Redemption 2 has received an official release date and I couldn’t be more excited about experiencing this title on my Xbox One X. Though no word has surfaced about 4K functionality, Rockstar Games is undeniably one of the best developers out there and were I a betting man, I’d wager Red Dead Redemption 2 will be taking full advantage of the tech. It’s been 8 years since we first stepped into the boots of John Marston and fulfilled the dream of being a cowboy in the wild west, so we’re all long overdue.

As we’ve come to expect from Rockstar Games, they are extremely tight-lipped about their titles, divulging only the bare essentials to get us excited, and it works. Every time a Red Dead Redemption 2 teaser or trailer is released, we comb through every frame in an attempt to extrude every ounce of information we can. And yet, we still know very little.

State of Decay 2

After the success of the first game, it’s no surprise that Microsoft lined up a sequel in the form of State of Decay 2. Fans of the first will be pleased with how far along the series has come, with improvements to all facets of gameplay. Graphically, State of Decay 2 is looking incredible, with hundreds of zombies on-screen at any given moment. Then there is the in-depth base building, exploration and survival, and difficult choices, all of which make this a must-have for when it releases later this year.

Darksiders 3

It was a bit of a rocky path that led to Darksiders 3, we weren’t really too sure whether we would see another entry into this post-apocalyptic series after its creators, Vigil Games, closed down in 2013. Since that date, fans who wanted to know what happened to War, one of the Horseman of the Apocalypse, and now thanks to Gunfire Games, we’ll get another entry in this dungeon-crawling, hack-n-slash series. Taking on the role of Fury, players will get to experience another side of the story as she hunts down the Seven Deadly Sins, using a badass whip and magic.

Deep Rock Galactic

Deep Rock Galactic has only just entered the Game Preview program on Xbox One which allows players to experience an early build of the game before its full release. Though it’s technically available to play now, I think it deserves a spot on this list of most anticipated Xbox One games of 2018.

If you’ve been living under a rock and haven’t heard of this game, don’t worry, these dwarves will dig to you, fight off hordes of aliens, and take the precious resources back to the ship for extraction. It’s the perfect blend of MineCraft and PayDay 2, allowing you to play co-op with up to 3 friends as you kick alien ass underground.

Sea of Thieves

Last, but certainly not least, is Sea of Thieves. Rare has somehow managed to create something truly exceptional with this title. They’ve managed to capture the sense of adventure that comes with being a pirate and fuse it together with what is arguably gaming’s greatest water effects and physics to date.

At its core, Sea of Thieves offers a gameplay loop of sailing, hunting treasure, and reaping the rewards, and while that might sound simple, ever single step along the way feels incredible. Struggling with the helm as you sail through a storm, scouring an island for where you think the “X” on the map is leading you, and even engaging in ship-to-ship combat creates an experience like no other. Even now, on the cusp of the next Sea of Thieves beta, we’re all chomping at the bit to get back in and set sail in the magic world Rare has created.

There are still tons of other games coming out this year, and we’ll continue to expand this collection as new titles are announced (looking at you E3 2018). But for now, these are just a few of our most anticipated Xbox One games of 2018.

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