#Richard Gruesome

[digitaldieselfuel]

A handful of my ocs and their favorite colors :3

[mariocki]

Mansion of the Doomed (Massacre Mansion, 1976)

"You must trust me. I'm going to give you back your eyes, all of you. Soon. As soon as I've succeeded with Nancy, as soon as I... I discover the truth. I will share that truth with you. For the whole world! I believe in humanity, that's - that's what it's all about."

[dustedmagazine]

The Tubs — Dead Meat (Trouble in Mind)

Dead Meat by The Tubs

The Tubs start in a scramble but end in haunting delicacy in this first full-length. Much has been made of lead singer Owen “O” Williams’ warbly Richard Thompson-ish voice. He vibrates with feeling, as he sings earnest but highly caffeinated folk melodies over the clash and clatter of agitated post-punk. Yet perhaps equally important is the fervor and romantic energy with which the band pushes him along. The Tubs are tight and aggressive and exciting; you’ll be hopping from one foot to another a little bit even in the dreamy, sensitive bits.

A little history if you haven’t been keeping up. The band, from London, is part of the Joanna Gruesome diaspora. Along with Ex-Vöid (whose Lan McArdle makes a cameo here), they are one of two bands demonstrably better and more interesting than their predecessor. They’ve had two EPs before this one. Chris Liberato enjoyed The Names in mid-2021, especially “Two Person Love,” of which he wrote: “[It’s] the best track of the bunch, though, with its classic sounding riff that swoops in and out allowing room for the chiming and chugging rhythm section to do the hard work.”

All that is prelude to one of 2023’s first certified bangers, and album that’s as touching as it is taut and which speaks to the heart as well as the adrenal gland. Dead Meat cruises ahead on the kinds of melodies you’ll end up singing along to. However badly you do it, it will feel pretty good

The title track has a snarl in its rant but a lilting, rising, falsetto chorus. “You can blame it all on me,” croons Williams and at least one of his bandmates in a voice like spider’s web. It floats to rest on a firestorm of clashing guitar/bass/drums. “Duped” scrambles rapid-fire between emphatic guitar chords, all scissor kicks and amp jumps, except for the yearning radiance of William’s sighing, “Why did I bother?” If “Pictures of Lily” is your favorite Who song, you will like this tune.

The last song, “Wretched Lie” is the clear highlight, an R.E.M.-ish jangle hopped up on cold brew, but the singing a tracery of longing, memory and regret. “You were always on my mind,” breathes the singer, with all the wistfulness of C86, while a racket explodes behind him. It’s like the scene in the action movie where the hero walks away from a firestorm, except it makes you want to fall in love again.  

Jennifer Kelly

[natequarter]

best second doctor stories: we put patrick troughton up against patrick troughton. we analysed the horrors of autocracy and fascism. and it rocks

best third doctor stories: the master has fucked up with the humankiller 3000 machine and now the doctor must stop his incompetence from destroying the brigadier's sanity

best fourth doctor stories: it's the daleks! again! but you can't even complain because it actually is good and also a defining episode for the show's lore

best fifth doctor stories: what if shakespeare was richard iii?

best sixth doctor stories: a fascinating deconstruction of the everyday trauma of the doctor's lifestyle, taking a small, insignificant death and working it into the great tragedy it is and analysing the awful psychological toll seeing people die in front of you every day would have on your psyche, no matter how involved you were in the death, concluding that it is not your fault and life is ultimately worth living. also it's a gilbert and sullivan-esque musical

best seventh doctor stories: gruelling deconstruction of the doctor's role in the narrative as the doctor manipulates ace into nearly killing herself or something in order to save her life, all whilst sylvester mccoy plays the spoons

best eighth doctor stories: a straight hour of scifi nonsense interspersed by audio of paul mcgann moaning and/or screaming as he is tortured gruesomely. alternatively, the same but in prose format

[museenkuss]

Marie Museenkuss Advent Calendar

For this advent season, I've prepared a selection of little treats - recipes, things to read or things to watch that I enjoy (or wrote) and am excited to share with you over the next few days. Each day, I'll 'open' another door to reveal the treat. I hope we can celebrate and have fun together!

[💎] To start, a cosy Christmas crime classic: Hercule Poirot's Christmas

[🦊] One of my all-time favourite fairy tales, Allerleirauh, can be read on this website! If you'd like to turn pages and see an illustration or two, you can also read it in the Green Fairy Book via archive.org, but beware - that version is censored!

[🪞] An all-time classic of a different kind, maybe just in time now that the New Year is slowly seeping in: Joan Didion's Essay "On Self Respect"

[💌] Feelings inspired to write? I’ve got some shimmering, cool, delicate december prompts ready for you!

[🗝️] In the spirit of the censored Allerleirauh: Read my thoughts on death, mutilation and the gruesome in fairy tales

[👢] On the morning of the sixth, German children will find little treats in their boots that Nikolaus left for them the night before. Let's use some of them (apples, marzipan(optional), nuts) to make a traditional German christmas treat - the Bratapfel. Rezept. Authentic English recipe.

[🏮] Let's take a virtual trip to the Tate and look at Sargent's Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose in two short videos that focus on description and technique!

[✨] The nostalgic excitement of entering a theatre and watching the other guests before the show - Chanel's A/W 2024/25 Haute Couture Show blends Opera and High Fashion.

[☕️] Today (very appropriate for the temperature drop), we're learning how to make French hot chocolate: [written recipe] [video]

[🦢] Do you have an hour to spare? Enjoy this charming little volume on perfume from 1928, a love letter to fragrance filled with anecdotes from all over the world and illustrated by the wonderful George Barbier: The romance of perfume by Richard Le Gallienne

[🌹] A Renaissance princess and her baroque prince... Here's a magical performance of Sleeping Beauty by the Bolshoi Ballet

[12] 🎪

[🍰 ] With eleven days left, there's still more than enough time to make the Fortnum&Mason Christmas Cake in time for Christmas! [the official F&M christmas cookbook has a very similar recipe for a fruit cake, but without the soaking and with a layer of fondant on top. let me know if you'd be interested in that, I'll post a pic]

[💋] today, let’s read one of my favourite sensual poems for winter: Francis Jammes — Tu Seras Nu (You will be nude), translated by Kenneth Rexroth

[🖋] This sunday, let's write! Or, alternatively: Let's daydream! Here are some brand new prompts for inspiration.

[🎞️] In the spirit of daydreaming: You and I by Papooz, Weak for your Love by Thee Sacred Souls, Mystery by Raveena are three extremely different but visually stunning music videos to songs I absolutely adore. To start this week, take a little moment to watch and listen, dream and dance.

[🍷] Easy poached pears in red wine with vanilla - a gorgeous, ruby-coloured dessert. I've made (regular) poached pears before and they are just as easy as this title suggests. But I'm SO eager to try (and share <3) this variant!

[18] 🎠

[🐻] After a long, tiring day of Christmas shopping (or Christmas stress), let's relax with a whimsical film! Panna a netvor (Beauty And The Beast) from 1978 <3

[💫] Imagine a zine, except more whimsical and more complicated - today, we're learning how to make a Victorian Puzzle Purse! They're so pretty, perfect add-ons for a christmas gift - or adorable presents in their own right.

[🩰] I feel like Christmas is the time where we can truly reconnect to the magic of childhood. So today, let's put on our (imaginary) ballet slippers and do a little 5-min Nutcracker ballet choreo in our living room! Whether we're dancers or not honestly doesn't matter - nobody is watching us, this is all about enjoying the fantasy of a snow-sparkling night. We're playing pretend! And if you'd rather improvise to something more dramatic, I used to whirl around to Borodin's Polovtsian Dances.

[🕰️] During this cold, dark evening, I present to you one of my favourite poems, caught between romanticism and irony: Heine's Old Chimney Piece (in translation).

[🎟️] About a year ago, Joel Haver made a video looking back on 4 years of uploading weekly short films. It's one of my favourite videos, visually, in its tone and regarding its message, and I feel now that the year is coming to a close, it might be a really inspiring watch: it's been fun.

[🎄] I wish I could invite you all over to show you the illustrated edition of E.T.A. Hoffmann's Nutcracker that my parents gifted me in 2001. Instead, I offer you a very nice translation: Nutcracker and the King of Mice - and, if you're the audiobook type, I found a good translation with Tchaikovsky's music here. The story is haunting, delicate, glittering, unheimlich. It starts on Christmas Day and infuses the following days and nights with magic. It was such a joy to share this Advent Calendar with you and I hope that with this, I can share some of my Christmas festivities with you, too, since they're so entwined with this story (and since the first chapters also somewhat accurately depict how I celebrate Christmas, too - on the evening of the 24th, after decorating the tree). Lots and lots of Love, darlings! I hope you have a magical day, a magical evening, and a very Merry Christmas!

[morbidology]

A crime scene photograph showing a blender that was used by Richard Chase, the serial killer known as "The Vampire of Sacramento." During his killing spree in the 1970s, Chase was notorious for his gruesome practices, which included blending the organs and blood of his victims.

Chase suffered from severe mental illness, particularly schizophrenia, and had a delusional belief that his blood was turning to powder. To "replenish" himself, he would consume blood. He used blenders, like the one depicted in the photograph, to mix the blood and body parts of his victims with animal parts or even Coca-Cola. This grim mixture was then consumed as part of his belief that it would prevent his body from deteriorating.

[vintagerpg]

Man, Palladium RPGs exhaust me. In a good way, but still, exhausting. This is the first edition of Beyond the Supernatural (1987). Players take various sorts of psychics who then investigate supernatural mysteries that can fall anywhere on the horror spectrum, from farcical to gruesome.

As with most Palladium games, there are at least two truckloads of rules too many. The main innovation here is Potential Psychic Energy (PPE) which is how Psychic Character Classes (PCCs — it wouldn’t be Palladium without lots of abbreviations) do their thing. It’s basically a point system for any sort of mental powers or magic and replaces the D&D-derived spells-per-day style systems that were in TMNT, Palladium Fantasy and other games up to this point. PPE and the underlying psychic/magic systems would become an important component of Rifts. A fun section of source material tackles Ley lines and sites of power that will also be important for that later game (and is, along with the bestiary, which includes a lot of unusual monsters from non-European traditions, is the most fun section of the book). I tend to think Palladium games are too complicated for me, and I definitely think this one is too much for horror (and too combat oriented). YMMV of course.

So much amazing artwork, though. A cover by Richard Corben? Hell yea! Kevin Long was still pumping out illustrations for Palladium at this point, but this is one of the rare times I think he’s out-shined — Steve Bissette contributes a ton of work to this book, and it is all grimy and shadowy and full of toothy danger. It’s hard to compete with a master.

[crowlixcx]

Please god please HOW WAS MACBETH

Okay bestie lets get into it!! Obvs it's...literally Macbeth lol so I doubt i'm spoiling the plot for anyone here however if anyone reading this does have tickets and doesn't want to know anything about staging etc i suggest u avert your eyes now

Anon babes it was marvellous. David was so commanding?? he's built like a string bean but when he was up on stage he looked BIG and powerful. The character development was so nuanced, the descent into madness was manic and chaotic but eventually steady and calm - he literally snapped a little boys neck with his bare hands in the battle scene it was gruesome. I've seen one too many productions of Macbeth where its pretty much all pinned on Lady Macbeth being the brains behind the operation but it was very obvious from the start of this production that Macbeth had plenty of malicious thoughts and intentions of his own. He needed a little bit of convincing from LM but obviously your average person cannot be coerced into murder lol this man was out for blood from the START. Cush Jumbo was DIVINE and the perfect enabler, their chemistry was spicy and sensual and I loved it. They changed the script so that LM visits Lady MacDuff before the latter is murdered and its sooo good it makes Lady Macbeth so much more 3 dimensional rather than the usual evil witchy woman, it makes her human and Jumbo portrays her beautifully. It really was exciting for the production to be so intimate. The Donmar is a LOVELY black box theatre not many seats at all so you're very close to the action. This is my 5th time seeing DT on stage (prev. Much Ado About Nothing, Richard II, Don Juan in Soho & Good) and they've all been at big venues so it felt very different. The use of headphones was soooo good and it helped them keep the pace of the show (it was 1hr50 with no interval). Rather than dramatic asides like in the script the actors could whisper and it was RIGHT in your ear which made it feel very personal and dark like you were really in the character's heads. You never saw any of the visions (the dagger, the witches, banquo's ghost) which is how i always prefer it to be portrayed personally because you know... they're not actually there this man is just guilty AF and losing his grasp on reality!! But the sound effects they used in these moments were verrrry good and helped set the scene, lots of spooky music and sounds of screaming and whispering etc. And just generally through out the production you heard every. single. word. because of the headphones which was just delicious.

Final note because when u came into my inbox u were probably just expecting a simple 'yeah i really enjoyed it!!' and instead i've written a mini essay BUT in the battle scene at the end David really did win the award for most agile man in his 50s, he head-butt like 4 people and i was like...damn boy can u come over and fight me some time

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED BY HOLLYWOOD REPORTER MAGAZINE.

WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION TO READING THIS GRUESOME TURN OF EVENTS WHEN YOU FIRST LEARNED ABOUT IT?

"I knew it was coming."

"When it was coming, I wasn’t aware."

"But my immediate reaction was about how it came together by our amazing writers with this sort of amazing, theatrical, rousing, terrifying, unpredictable craftsmanship that I was very happy to be on the receiving end of."

FIRST LOOKING BACK ON EPISODE FOUR, WHILE IT SEEMED PRETTY OBVIOUS TO THE VIEWER, I'M WONDERING WHAT DO YOU THINK WAS GOING THROUGH AEGON'S MIND WHEN HE GOT ON SUNFYRE AND WENT CHARGING INTO THE BATTLE?

"He’d been a bit backed into a corner by all the things that have accumulated over time with being king, where his worst fears and insecurities were coming into plain sight and becoming true."

"He felt weak, and he was seen as weak, and kind of useless — with what Alicent (Olivia Cooke) had said to him (“Do nothing”) in his chamber, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back."

And he was just resigned: “I don’t have any option, I’ve got to prove myself in some way.”

"But you know, being the way he is, and not being an actual warrior with that sort of fearless courage that other people have, he had to numb himself and so he got blind drunk and jumped on a dragon."

HOW DO YOU THINK HE FELT ABOUT AEMOND'S BETRAYAL? IT SEEMED LIKE IT WAS CLEAR? I DID WONDER IF AEGON WAS TRULY SURPRISED...

"I think the moment of recognition was the fact that the fireball was coming at it."

"I don’t think he had time to think that he’s done this on purpose."

"If those thoughts are to come off, they will probably come later."

"As a viewer, I’m still unsure."

"I want people to make up their own minds."

THERE'S AN ARGUMENT TO BE MADE THAT SINCE THE BATTLE, AS DISASTROUS AS IT WAS, WAS EVENTUALLY WON, THAT HE SAVED THE DAY? AEGON THE HERO? OR NO.

"You’ve got to take them where you can get them."

"Yeah, he’s a hero."

WHAT'S THE PROSTHETIC PROCESS LIKE FOR YOU MOVING FORWARD?

"Long."

"Very detailed."

"I got to know my amazing hair and makeup team very well."

"I also got to know myself very well."

HOW DO YOU MEAN?

"The amount of time I was spending in that chair with those people in my own thoughts…. But yeah, [the prosthetics] really influences and informs my performance."

"It sort of instructs me how to move now."

"How you breathe, how you speak changes."

"I have a piece inside my mouth that I asked for to sort of distort my speech."

"So all this is great because it makes me feel like we’ve made a shift."

"Aegon has to have changed after this."

"We’re going to find a difference in him and and allow that to continue and [impact] his decisions and have a new approach to life."

YOU'VE MENTIONED CHANGING HOW HE MOVES. IN A PREVIOUS INTERVIEW YOU MENTIONED HOW AEGON USED TO MOVE DIFFERENTLY THAN YOU DO. WHAT WAS THAT DIFFERENCE?

"He’s a little bit more hunched."

"He is a bit narrower."

"I feel it’s a bit weak and more weaselly."

IS IT WEIRDLY MORE FUN TO PLAY HIM AS NOW? BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH MORE THEATRICAL, IN A WAY.

"Yeah! It feels like we’ve transitioned from Richard II to Richard III, if that makes any sense to you."

"Almost like a level up — though on paper, obviously, it’s a level down."

"I think what he loses physically he gains emotionally and mentally."

"I’m trying to see it like that."

THERE'S OBVIOUSLY A PARALLEL THERE TO HOW VISERYS WAS AT THE END, INFIRM AND GHOULISH. DID THAT INFORM YOUR PROCESS AT ALL?

"I mean, it’s just fraught with danger, isn’t it?"

"Having a crown on your head."

"Something nasty is going to happen to you at some point."

"Isn’t it being not having my crown on yet?"

"There’s definitely a Viserys comparison, especially toward his final days and in bed."

"No quality of life whatsoever."

"It was only weeks, months before his dad was in that same position and in that same bed."

LET'S SAY HIS FATE WASN'T LITERALLY WRITTEN. WHAT, IDEALLY, WOULD YOU WANT FOR YOUR AEGON'S FATE?

"I want it to be, in an ideal world, for there to be an opportunity to prove himself and make decisions that he has made — not somebody else who thinks they know better."

"To carve out his own path as king."

"And then just see if he fucks it up as much as people think he might."

"I’d like to give him the space and the time to work it out."

"It’s a dangerous request because they could go horribly wrong."

"I think people underestimate him."

I FOUND IT INTERESTING THAT NOT ONE PERSON SAT BY HIS BEDSIDE OR HELD HIS HAND OR TRIED TO COMFORT HIM IN ANY WAY — AT LEAST NOT IN THIS EPISODE. SEEMS PRETTY HARSH.

"It’s desperately, desperately sad."

"Aegon is a boy in a man’s body and all he’s ever wanted is to be shown love and made to feel seen or not judged."

"All these things that he’s done in the past that have given him a reputation, I believe he’s felt that any attention is good attention."

"Unfortunately, he’s made a name for himself now — people kind of want to keep their distance and they see him as a poisoned chalice."

"At the end of the day, he’s a product of his history."

"He hasn’t had the emotional intelligence to be able to deal with that in a healthy way and move forward from it."

"Back then, therapy wasn’t really a thing, was it?"

"He’s been left to his own devices."

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

Y'know, for a series that's themed so heavily around deception, misplaced trust, and things not being as great as they seem, it's so interesting to me how we have a total of three characters who have stories that involve a powerful, wealthy individual manipulating them and causing them or their loved ones harm during times of financial struggle or straight-up poverty XF-Ture Tech greeted the impoverish Jeung family with the offer to pay off all of their expenses, only at the cost of their daughter, Min, becoming the Ultimate Student 12 years down the line. This led Min from ages five to seventeen to work away her entire life to achieve this goal, turning her into the perfect image of an Ultimate that Hope's Peak Academy wanted to see, at the cost of her childhood and her autonomy.

Min: I don't know why that man would sponsor some random child, nor why it would be me of all people. And I never had the time nor space to figure out the answer to that question. Min: Failure was not something I even considered, because if I failed, then there would be no future for me or my family. Min: I had simply accepted for my whole life that I would be the Ultimate Student, and I lived my life accordingly. That's why the Academy chose me.

The Lacroix family was sent into a river of debt by their daughter Rose, and when all hope seemed to be lost, Richard Spurling offered to clear her charges and pay off her fines if she decided to work under him as a painter for the Spurling Foundation. Any semblance of herself in Rose's works has now dissipated, her sense of identity only tied to the contract she signed with an angelic devil.

Rose: Forever working to pay off my mistakes, and never being able to call my art my own... This isn't the life of an artist that I wanted. It's not what anyone would want. Rose: All I do is make paintings on others' beck and call. It's been so long that I don't think I remember how to paint something original anymore. Rose: That spark of vitality is missing from anything I make. Like this painting. And I can't help but feel like I'm missing a part of myself.

Little is known about the details of Xander's story at this time, but we know enough to know that he falls into this category too. The Matthews family lived in a town with an understaffed hospital and a river as their only water source, leaving them unprepared for an incident that would gruesomely wipe them out. Meanwhile, Duke Spurling, a wealthy man in extreme power being a politician, who instead of using his power for good was, from what we can tell, sitting on his dollar bills while the innocents around him lost function in their limbs.

Xander: I read that it was like rotting from the outside in. Xander: Your limbs would stop working before your organs did, and you would lie there and feel yourself die and be unable to do anything about it. Xander: There was only one dinky understaffed hospital for miles, one that could barely handle a minor flu outbreak, much less that 'incident' Xander: I read that it took weeks before they even figured out what to do with all the bodies. They left them where they died. After all, there was no one left to move them. Xander: It was during May, that time of the year there when the temperature quickly grows to be excruciatingly hot. Xander: You know what that does to corpses, right? I'm sure the smell was unbearable--

It's just really interesting to me how this is a theme across all three characters, and I can't help but wonder if this will carry over to some of the other characters as well.

[blueycarpenter]

Lydia Deetz HCs

teenager // post-Beetlejuice

────────                                                                                  GIFs are not mine

would have nightmares of/about Betelgeuse and be awoken and comforted by Barbara & Adam

learned how to play the piano 

grew distant with Delia and Charles for a short period of time, where she rarely interacted or talked to them outside of having dinner together when she was forced to

started seeing ghosts wherever she went, some of which terrified her. she’d end up in the counselor’s office at school due to outbursts of “visions”

she was bullied in school because of it, and when she refused to go to therapy recommended by her parents and teachers, Delia forced her to get out of the house and spend time with other girls in her classes as a distraction

Lydia found that the type of ghosts she sees (how scary or non-scary they look) vary based on her emotional state. Barbara & Adam were the only ones that ever stay consistent through them all

on one of the days Lydia was with the girls group, they locked her in a closet with a light switch on the outside and repetitively turned the lights on and off as a joke to her seeing ghosts. every time the lights came on, Lydia would see a new ghost, and because she was stressed, anxious, and panicked, all those that appeared were violently and/or gruesomely presented

she never trusted anyone after that, aside from her parents and the Maitlands. And then she met Richard…

adult // post-Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

────────                                                                                  GIFs are not mine

growls at people. i don’t make the rules

midnight is the earliest she goes to sleep. she may “go to bed” around 10:00 but she’ll always be awake at least until midnight. Astrid knows this and consistently goes into her room just to talk, even after midnight

she and Astrid get much closer as mother and daughter. like that wasn’t obvious

isn’t scared of much in regards to ghosts or demons, but she still can’t stand snakes, since Beetlegeuse’s rattlesnake mutant from her adolescence. she knows it was him, but that thing’s fucking terrifying

is very welcoming of who Astrid brings home, but has the over-protective instinct of seeing and hearing everything, even when the teens don’t think she does

she exploits, embarrasses, and calls Astrid out for shits and giggles

she’s prefers cats to dogs. she makes friends with all the feral cats around, especially the black ones 

is always down for a Halloween movie night!

actually kinda misses Betelgeuse every now and then but refuses to admit it

[silentcrowsilentravens]

Stars alpha reacting to their partner pulling a Richard and sacrificing themselves for them?

"Pulling a Richard" lol.

I'd like to apologize in advance to Lisa Trevor for this.

Joseph Frost, Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, Brad Vickers, Barry Burton, and Albert Wesker reacting to their s/o sacrificing themselves to save them.

(Gender ambiguous).

Warnings: death, blood, gore.

Masterlists here!

Joseph Frost

Arklay Mountains. It’s the evening of July 24, 1998. Led by Captain Wesker, you and four other members of the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team are searching for signs of Bravo team and pilot Kevin Dooley, with whom contact was lost the day prior. 

You trudge through the tall grass, gun unholstered and flashlight scanning over every dark shape in your path.

A persistent sense of unease hangs in the air. You’d be hard-pressed to think of another time you’ve felt so on edge while on the job. 

There's shifting behind you. You whip your head around.

Joseph is standing there with his gun. "Jumpy?" he teases half-heartedly. You roll your eyes at him and resume what you were doing.

"Hey... wait a sec..." He motions for you to come over.

"What is it?" You point your light down as you approach. It catches a metal object laying in the grass between you. It's a gun. A standard-issue Beretta.

Joseph bends down to pick it up, which is when you realize that it's attached to something.

It's...

It's a hand.

A human hand with no human attached to it.

Joseph drops the severed part in shock. Both of you jolt away from it with a yelp.

Upon further inspection, realize that you know who it used to belong to. You recognize the fingerless glove and the wristwatch. They're part of a S.T.A.R.S. uniform. More specifically, the uniform of Edward Dewey from Bravo team.

For a moment, the only thing you can hear is the wind and your heart pounding in your ears. You can do nothing but stare in disbelief. 

There have been a lot of deaths lately. Gruesome ones. 

You’ve seen the crime scene photos.

You’ve seen the crime scenes.

They’re difficult to stomach.

But the feeling that washes over you here and now is particularly visceral. Every last drop of blood in your body has run cold. You feel dangerously close to hurling.

Edward is someone you see almost every day. He...

He’s a great man. A friend of yours.

He can’t be...

You finally manage to tear your gaze away and look at Joseph. 

“...Eddie can still be kicking,” he says blankly. “Guy doesn’t need both hands to live.”

Yeah. 

Yeah, Edward can still be out there. Alive. Hopefully. He's tough...

...

Is that...

...growling you're hearing?

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize something—multiple somethings are rapidly approaching. Joseph notices just a beat later than you do.

“Joey, watch out!” With all of your might, you shove your partner out of harm’s way.

He hits the ground. 

A bloody creature collides with you, its sharp teeth sinking into the exposed skin of your forearm. You cry out, wrenching your arm to the side in a desperate attempt to make it release you. It does, tearing a chunk of flesh away in the process, and quickly latches back on.

A second beast joins in, causing you to lose your balance and fall.

Followed by another one.

And another.

And another.

There are so many. They look like dogs and smell like rotting corpses, but you aren't paying much attention to that. You're in so much pain, it's difficult to think. They're quite literally eating you alive and all you can manage to do is flail about, weakly attempting to get them off.

Joseph shouts your name in alarm, scrambling to pick up his gun. His weapon-mounted light illuminates the mass of creatures pinning you down. Blood and viscera glisten.

He fires round after round, trying to kill them.

Jill, Barry, Chris, and Wesker rush over to help.

Your screams abruptly stop, cut off by an awful, strangled, gurgling noise as a set of teeth manage to rip your throat out.

"No!" Joseph keeps firing, unable to process it all. Just because you've gone quiet doesn't mean you're dead, right? Right? There's a chance you're still alive. There has to be! "Get off! Get off!"

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

"Joseph, it's too late!" Chris grabs Joseph's shoulder, trying to make him stop. Joseph won't. "We have to go!"

This can't be happening. This can't be real. You're not gone. You're not!

The remaining beasts turn their attention toward the rest of the team.

Finally, Chris and Barry seize Joseph by the back of his tactical vest and physically drag him along as they start running. He doesn't stop calling your name, doesn't stop reaching for you even as your body becomes further and further away from them.

"Brad!" Chris shouts as their helicopter abandons them. "Brad! Where's he going?!"

This night can't get any worse. They end up seeking refuge in a mansion. The moment Jill slams the doors shut and locks them, Joseph plops down on the floor, breathing hard and cradling his head in his hands.

He can't believe it. You're gone just like that. It all happened so fast... And if you hadn't done what you did, it would've been him instead.

He wishes it were him instead. His eyes begin to burn.

Jill Valentine

It's the dead of night in the summer of 2005. You and Jill are stranded in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea on the Queen Zenobia, which just narrowly avoided being completely obliterated by the Regia SOLIS.

Unfortunately, the ship still ended up getting caught in the shockwave of the blast, leaving you to deal with even more water pouring into the ship.

It's time to clear out and fast.

Both of you are swimming through the flooded corridors in search of an exit when eventually, you make your way into a room that has yet to fill completely. The surface of the water is in view. You speed up, sparing a glance over your shoulder to where Jill ought to be.

She isn't there.

You come to an immediate stop, a jolt of panic passing through you as you spin around in an attempt to locate her.

You find her a little ways back, having fallen behind because she's busy grappling with a sea creeper that's caught up to her. Damn things!

It's gotten ahold of her legs and she's fighting to keep its wide maw away. Despite their spindly limbs, earlier encounters have let you know that they're rather strong.

There's already been quite a stretch between this and the last opportunity you got to get some air. In the time it would take you to pop your head out and swim back to help Jill, it could already be too late.

With that thought at the forefront of your mind, you ignore your body's desperate pleas to breathe and make your way over.

You unsheathe your Bowie knife. Using all of your might, you drive it straight into the B.O.W.'s soft shell.

Blood turns the water red. The creature reels back with a high-pitched cry and you take the opportunity to seize your partner.

With a tight grip on the equipment harness strapped to her back, you begin to swim upward, pushing yourself to go as fast as you can.

You're so close. Fresh oxygen is just within reach when something grabs hold of your ankle and sharply tries to yank you back.

Looking down, you find the same sea creeper giving things another go.

'Get offa me, dammit!' You slam the heel of your boot down on its covered head until it releases you, then kick away.

You lift Jill and force her above the surface, managing to get her arms hooked onto a ladder leading up to a catwalk.

There's yet another tug on your leg, far harsher than the last.

You release Jill, not wanting to risk pulling her down with you.

Bubbles begin to stream past your parted lips and water floods your lungs. The burning in your chest is beginning to worsen exponentially as you're dragged away, simply unable to hold your breath any longer than you already have. You're certain this is it for you.

Jill coughs and sputters. As the darkness begins to fade back to the edges of her vision and she's able to form a thought other than 'I need air or I'm gonna die down here', she processes that you haven't resurfaced along with her.

Her still-pounding heart leaps into her throat and she curses, diving back down without a moment's hesitation.

Her eyes instantly lock onto a red cloud in the water, which both you and the sea creeper are in. It has you in its grasp and you aren't struggling. You aren't moving at all.

As Jill closes the rest of the distance, she continues to hope against all hope that she can save you.

The handle of your blade is sticking out of the creature's back. She yanks it out and plunges it into a new spot, tugging you free and kicking the thing as hard as she can, sending it into a wall.

With you in tow, Jill makes her way above the water and back to the ladder.

You aren't breathing anymore when she successfully gets you onto the catwalk. She hastily begins to perform CPR, determined to fix that. She has to.

Unfortunately, she can't. It's already too late for you.

Finally, resignation begins to set in and she lets her hands still on your chest.

Jill is no stranger to losing people, and there's a persistent nagging fear in the back of her mind about losing more. You've often been at the forefront of it.

She's always tried to push it aside, though, always hoped that it wouldn't come to pass.

Her fingers tremble slightly as they curl into fists. She lets her head hang.

If only she hadn't let that damn B.O.W. catch up to her...

There's a lump forming in her throat that she tries to swallow as she stands, sending you a silent apology for letting you down.

...

Even if she wants to stay here with you, she knows this ship isn't going to last much longer. Cursing under her breath and blinking away the tears beginning to form in her eyes, Jill keeps moving. She has to...

Chris Redfield

"We're picking up a large bogey on radar. It's heading right for you!"

Just when you thought shit had already hit the fan, that message came through on comms and not even a minute later, a tandem rotor helicopter appeared, dropping off another absolutely massive—probably a good thirty feet tall—B.O.W. onto the team's already full plate.

Echo needs three anti-aircraft guns taken out before further help can be given, so everyone tries to provide cover for Finn as he sets the charges needed to blow them up.

The wrecked buildings around you provide little cover from the ogroman, which is intent on crushing the lot of you.

Chris points out a weakness that can be exploited: Soft, exposed red flesh around where a big metal connector is sticking out of its back.

You and a few others distract the beast with bullets. Chris manages to leap onto its back while you do so, ripping out a bit of protruding bone and driving it straight into the weak point. The process is rinsed and repeated a few times before the ogroman dies, dissolving into a foul-smelling, steaming goop that leaves you coughing.

Two anti-aircraft guns down, one more to go.

Everyone's comms crackle. "There's another giant B.O.W. closing in on your location!"

A loud roar rings out.

A massive hand grabs onto a rooftop, sending shingles raining down onto a few j'avo.

"It's the one we lost at the Two of Hearts," Piers points out.

Chris orders the team to prepare to engage. You follow Finn to the last gun, making use of an underground passage that leads you into another building. When you're standing on the top floor, the target of the objective comes into view, sitting on the ground below beside a barricade.

"Let's try to make this quick."

The ogroman has other plans.

Finn and Piers, a little ways ahead of you, head down the ladder.

You and Chris are stepping out from behind a partially destroyed wall when it turns and spots you there.

The two of you begin to unload your clips into it, not getting too many hits on that weak spot thanks to the way it's positioned itself.

Click.

Click.

Click.

"I'm out!" you announce.

"Me too," Chris says. "Look out!"

A massive hand shoots out toward you.

You both dive out of the way in time. You land back behind the wall, and Chris is still out in the open stretch. Another hole is smashed into the building.

The ogroman draws its arm back, then raises it up and prepares to sweep it across.

"Chris!" You don't even think, you just act, launching yourself back onto your feet and sprinting toward him. It'll hit him if you're not quick enough!

The arm grows closer.

With mere seconds to spare, you shove Chris back to the floor.

All the wind is knocked out of you as the ogroman makes contact, sending you sailing straight over the edge.

You make a graceful arc before colliding harshly with the pavement down below.

"Shit!" Chris shouts your name in alarm.

He needs to get to you.

"Cover me!"

He slides down the ladder while other members of the team show up to keep the ogroman busy.

A red puddle has begun to form beneath you. By some miracle, you're still responsive, but only barely.

"You're gonna be alright. You're gonna make it. Just hold on, okay?" Chris begins to drag you over to cover. You let out a groan, unable to process any of what you're hearing. "I need you here." Speaking into his comm, he calls for urgent first aid.

Before long, your feeble movements begin to peter out. Chris feels his stomach drop.

"No... No, come on. You have to stay with me. You have to!" You mean so much to him. He can't lose you. He can't. Not like this.

One last raspy, rattling breath leaves your lips before you're gone.

The grief, the devastation is like an instant weight settling upon Chris' shoulders. He slams his fists against the ground and cries out, leaning down to rest his head against your chest.

This is his fault... He'll never forgive himself.

Brad Vickers

"Pizza's here," you announce, shutting the apartment door with your foot. It's late in the evening, and you and Brad decided to call in and order one for dinner.

(Both of you also went ahead and ordered one for Brad's friend, Jill, who has scarcely left her home since being suspended. Brad would've been as well, had he joined in on the shouting match she and three other S.T.A.R.S. members got into with Chief Irons over the mansion incident. You know Brad still feels guilty about it).

"Brad. Pizza." You pop open the box and waft it in front of his face before placing it on the coffee table. He snaps out of it and sends you a small smile.

"You pick out something for us to watch already?"

"Uh-huh." He places the TV Guide down and picks up the remote. "They're showing one of our favorite flicks tonight, actually."

"Yeah? Which one?" You plop down beside him on the couch with a few paper plates in hand.

...

Hours have passed, and you've fallen asleep living room. The movie has long since ended, the remaining half of dinner is sitting abandoned, and Brad is snoring lightly beside you. You might've remained that way until morning...

...if not for a loud noise from somewhere on the street below waking you up.

You slowly straighten up, removing your head from your partner's shoulder.

Then, you begin to process the not-so-distant sounds of chaos. There are sirens and people screaming.

'What is going on...?'

An orange glow is bleeding from around the edges of the drawn curtains. You get up and pull them open. Multiple fires are burning.

You hurriedly wake Brad. "Hey. Something is wrong," you tell him as you drag him over to the window. "Very, very wrong. Look."

"Holy shit." He blanches. "We need to go."

You throw on a coat and shoes while Brad puts on his S.T.A.R.S. getup. He grabs his Beretta. All you have is a pocket knife.

The two of you make your way out of the apartment, hurriedly heading down the corridor and into the stairwell.

When you reach the emergency exit at the bottom of the stairs, you encounter a problem. Before Brad even gets the chance to push the door open, something rips it off the hinges. It's a huge figure clad head to toe in a black outfit, which is dotted with small yellow hazard symbols and staples.

"S.T.A.R.S...." it growls.

After a moment's hesitation, Brad seizes you by your sleeve and begins to high-tail it toward the front of the building. Time to try the front doors instead.

The thing gives chase. It's fast. Surprisingly so.

Brad aims his gun over his shoulder and opens fire. The bullets appear to have no effect. Not good.

It lifts its hand. A thin tentacle shoots out quick as lightning, wrapping around one of Brad's ankles and tripping him up. He lands harshly on the floor, his weapon slipping from his grasp. It begins to drag him.

"Help!"

You stagger to a stop, whipping around and grabbing hold of him. All that accomplishes is making the pursuer pull you along as well.

"Let go of him!" You take your blade and slice the appendage in two. The half still attached to it retreats. You help Brad up.

"S.T.A.R.S.!"

A new tentacle pops out of its sleeves. The moment you catch a glimpse of it, you put yourself directly behind Brad.

Rougher than before, the pursuer swings its arm back, yanking you over to it.

"Brad, run!"

Brad doesn't. He freezes in place.

It picks you up by your face, squeezing so tightly that it feels as though your skull might shatter. You struggle. "Run! Before it gets y—"

Your sentence is cut off by the tentacle going straight through your mouth and out the back of your head.

You're tossed aside, dead as dead can be.

You land facing Brad, your face stained red and your eyes wide open. He feels himself begin to shake.

Then, he runs.

This can't be happening. This seriously can't be happening!

He should have stepped in to help you. Doubly so after you had done that for him.

He should have done something. Anything but just stand there! What the hell is wrong with him?!

'Oh, god...'

When it seems that he's finally lost the pursuer, Brad slumps against the wall and slides down it until he's sitting. Alone in a random building, he cries harder than he has in a long time. He's so incredibly angry with himself for practically letting that happen.

There's a hole in his heart where you used to be that can simply never be filled again. You're gone. Gone. He can't believe it...

Barry Burton

As the Starlight slowly sinks into the waters below, explosions rattle it, illuminating the pitch-black night sky with bright oranges and yellows.

You, Barry, Leon, and Lucia stand safely aboard the deck of the Umbrella submarine Barry hijacked. Admittedly, you're still a little mad that he scared you again. A few years back, when you were both part of S.T.A.R.S., he pretended to betray you and the others the same way Wesker had.

He did it to protect your daughters and kept the ruse up long enough for Wesker to let his guard down. Tonight, he pulled a similar stunt. He made a fake deal with Umbrella and acted as though he was going to hand Lucia over to them, abandoning you and Leon on the ocean liner in the process.

"Sorry, honey," Barry says, noticing the sour look on your face. "I couldn't risk them finding out."

You sigh. "No, I get it. I just can't believe I fell for it again, even if only briefly."

"I guess I must be that good of an actor, huh?"

"I wouldn't go that far," you tease lightly. "It was just the panic of it all..."

"Ouch." Barry puts on a hurt expression.

Somewhere behind you, you hear the crackle of a radio. "Hey, I'm finally getting through to headquarters," Leon announces.

Barry places a hand on Lucia's shoulder. "I'm sure Polly and Moira will be excited to meet their new sister."

Lucia's eyes widen. "You guys were being serious?"

"Of course!" Your hand lands on her free shoulder. "Welcome to the family."

She grins. A genuine, happy-as-can-be grin.

"HQ, this is Leon. Mission accomplished. We're heading home."

You glance behind you in an attempt to see Leon, but he's standing closer to Barry. Your gaze only finds his shadow. You look away.

Over the sound of the rain and explosions, your ears manage to pick on a subtle gurgling noise.

Once again, you turn your head. The shadow is beginning to change. It's distorting and growing.

With dawning horror, you realize that all of the B.O.W.s haven't been eradicated, that it isn't actually Leon standing with you guys, that he's probably still aboard the Starlight.

"We aren't out of the woods yet!" is all you can manage in warning before the Tyrant finishes turning into its true form, red, intestine-like tentacles shooting out of the wide cavity in its stomach.

Barry doesn't even get the chance to fully pull his magnum from its holster before you throw yourself into the path of danger.

Rather than your husband, the appendages end up grabbing you instead. With how your arms end up pinned to your sides, you can't grab your pistol or knife to try and free yourself.

Panic instantly tightens itself around Barry's lungs. "Good god! Lucia, get inside!" He opens fire on the monster, desperate to make it release you.

It swings you all around, making it difficult for him to get a clean shot. It slowly but surely begins to squeeze you.

A big gray forearm collides with Barry, sending both him and his weapon flying across the deck.

The monster leaps off the sub and into the cold ocean, slowly sinking.

"No, no, no!" Barry practically throws himself over the railing, grasping it with one hand and desperately grabbing for you with the other. Just barely, he manages to take hold of your webbing.

The monster tightens its grip and there's an audible crack. You stop struggling.

...

Barry stills, his fingers going slack. He can't breathe, can't believe it. The devastation hits like a sucker punch to the gut.

Your body fully disappears into the dark waters. This is one of his worst nightmares.

He curses, banging his fist against the sub. It should have been him, not you! Why did you do that?

...He knows the answer. It's because he means as much to you as you do to him.

He knows he would've risked himself like that too if the roles were swapped.

He wishes that they were. What is he meant to do without you?

Albert Wesker

By all accounts, Albert Wesker should be dead. Instead, he's woken up as something else. Something more than human.

And now, he needs to leave this place before it turns into a pile of burning rubble. It isn't clear how much time is left before the self-destruct sequence goes off, but it ought to be enough for him to make it back out the doors.

Most of the bioweapons are easy enough to take out and get past.

There is, however, one problem—one nuisance that is refusing to leave him alone: Lisa Trevor. She's followed him all the way back up to the mansion proper. Since she doesn't have the good sense to give up, he's had to take a different route in an attempt to lose her.

Finally, he thinks he might have. The exit is close. Just down the stairs, in fact. He can see it.

A door behind him flies open. He turns, tightening his finger on the trigger of his Samurai Edge.

"Captain Wesker!"

Oh. It's only you.

Albert is pleased to see that you've made it this far. Not that there was much doubt in his mind that you would. You're one of the best S.T.A.R.S. has to offer when it comes to your combat abilities.

"Where'd—" Your eyes widen before your features twist in concern. "What the hell happened to you?"

It's evident that you haven't run into Jill, Chris, Barry, or Rebecca since everything that happened down in the basement labs. This could work to his advantage. He was hoping to have you join him.

Sparing a glance at the absurd amount of red staining the front of his tactical vest, Albert tells you, "It's nothing serious."

You head closer and stare at him incredulously. It's a lot of blood. As in, more than should be outside of anyone's body if they're still alive. Maybe not all of is his? He isn't acting like he's injured.

"...Alright, if you say so," you reply, unable to shake your worry completely.

"Come with me. We're leaving." Without waiting for another second, Albert starts heading down the stairs.

"But what about the others?"

"There's no point in going after them now,'" he answers vaguely. "I'll explain everything once we get outside."

You hesitate for a moment before beginning to follow him...

...Only to be stopped moments later by an awful, raspy moan and a hunched figure hobbling into the entrance hall with surprising speed.

'What is that?!'

It's clad in a raggedy blue medical gown, wearing a mask that appears to be made of stitched-together human faces, and making a beeline for Albert.

He moves to pull out the gun he just reholstered.

The monster hunches further. A load of worm-like tendrils shoot out of its back.

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion. Wordlessly, you throw yourself between the two of them in order to save your captain from further injury,

As though they were sharp knives, two of the tendrils pierce straight through you. One through your stomach, and another through your chest. You land in a limp pile on the marble floor, blood pouring from your wounds and past your lips.

...

No...

No, this won't do at all.

White-hot anger slowly begins to crawl through Albert's veins.

"You have no idea how grave of a mistake you've just made."

Yet again, he deals with her, this time ensuring that it will be the last time. You watch through half-lidded eyes, unable to truly process any of it. You're teetering dangerously on the edge of nothingness and it's far too late for you to be saved.

Albert just about unloads the rest of his ammunition into Lisa, saving his last bullet so that he can send the chandelier crashing upon her.

"Be a good girl and stay dead." He sneers, then turns to you.

You're already dead. He picks you up.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll fix this. I will help you rise from the ashes as I did. I will make you something more."

[kaibutsushidousha]

So does Minase joins Meteo of being a writer that picked a figure from regions that aren’t as used as much in TM with the Trung sisters belonging to him?

This one is just a self-answering yes-no question, so I'll instead use it as a platform for the Minase thoughts I've been having since the wombo-combo of the new mats, the anniversary interview, and the Dubai event. It's probably what the anon wanted out of it anyway.

My inner ramblings start from something Nasu said in last year's interview and made a point to reiterate this year.

Ordeal Calls are meant to be each writer's best and most emblematic piece. Their artistic identity taken to its peak. That's something I believe Sakurai accomplished and Minase didn't. That obviously raises one question: what would a real Minase masterpiece look like?

By the Ordeal Call's premise, it would still need to be something that gave the supplementary information we were missing about the Alterego class, but let's ignore that angle and focus only on the goal of expressing Minase's personality in the best way possible.

What works with Minase and what doesn't? Compare his worst and best pieces. Agartha sucks because it focuses on his opinions about women and those are categorically rancid. Yuga Kshetra succeeds because it focuses on his opinions about ableism, which are far more poignant and agreeable. Minase has enough care about the subject to ensure that the plot is a series of arrangements where the characters triumph not despite their so-called flaws but specifically because of them.

So an ideal Minase Ordeal would focus on a different subject that Minase recurrently displays passionate, empathetic, and agreeable opinions about. So what can we find in his roster of character? Minase made Servant versions:

Zenobia, whose historical significance is entirely about resisting Roman colonization, although she failed. Minase portrays as someone who literally wears her failure and tries to conduct herself with dignity regardless to prove the point that the Roman conquerors couldn't truly defeat her Palmyra spirit. I think this one is a bust execution-wise, but it's significant that the idea is there.

Lakshmi Bai, whose historical significance is entirely about resisting English colonization. Minase portrays her as someone who can't help but disdain the innocent English civilian Holmes and acknowledges the irrationality of it, but the entire surrounding cast including Holmes himself assure her that she is entitled to her feeling because colonization is that gruesome and traumatic of a process.

The Trung sisters, whose historical significance comes not exactly from resisting colonization, but from leading an independence war, which is similar enough in spirit.

Columbus, whose historical significance comes from being a colonizer. I don't need to tell you how Minase chose to portray him.

With Fate/ drawing its action cast from history books, it's inevitable that we get a decent amount of characters whose bulk of their offscreen backstory was spent conquering, slaughtering, and assimilating other cultures. Some certified colonizers, like Richard and Takeru, are very self-critical about it. On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have Iskandar, who gets flak from Faker and Ptolemy for his stupid decisions toward the Diadochi, but the journey of conquest and domination gets framed as the fun adventure no one is critical of. Either way, none of other characters not written by Minase get irredeemable treatment that Columbus gets.

The franchise's most prominent colonizer is, of course, Arthur(ia) Pendragon. Both versions are defined by the regret that comes with ultimately failing their kingdom, but their failings are never credited to the notion that violently conquering the British tribes and unifying the isles is an inherently bad thing. That's the image of greater good they fought for, and that part remains unchallenged. The closest Nasu got to criticizing Arthuria for being a colonizer is by showing the Round Table's brutal treatment of the Arabs in the Sixth Singularity. I'm mentioned this specially because this is Percival's first reaction to eating a mixed breakfast buffet in the current Minase-written Dubai event:

Minase's Percival is strongly defined by his respectful interest in foreign cultures and, fittingly enough for a knight who opposed the Lion King, he's maybe the first character to directly criticize Arthuria on her disregard for the traditions she trampled in the unification of Britain. That's a thing I'd appreciate more of and can only imagine Minase daring to touch on.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #28 – The Dead Take The A Train by Cassandra Khaw and Richard Kadrey

Oh I wanted to love this book so very much. On paper it’s basically made for me – incredibly messy fuckup of a heroine, cosmic horror through the idiom of wall street corporate sharks, grimy and gory urban fantasy full of knifing people in back alleys, the works! For the first fifty pages or so, I thought I was in love – which just made the disappointment as the wheels came off all the more bitter.

The book follows Julie, ‘barbed wire magician’ (it’s at least as unpleasant as it sounds), professional monster hunter, and all-around personal disaster. Her life takes a turn for the even messier when a) her best friend/comically oversized unresolved crush shows up at her door begging for help running from her abusive husband and b) unrelatededly but more or less simultaneously, her ex-partner-and-also-boyfriend, looking up to clean up embarrassing loose ends on his rise up the elldritch corporate ladder, baits her into trying to summon a guardian angel from a sabotaged tome and ends up releasing a metaphysical parasite that starts murdering its way through the city’s occult underground. From there things just get messier.

Drilling down as much as I can, my issues with this can be summed up as it feels like a first draft. There’s stuff there on the page – character arcs, relationships, bits of scenery and action setpieces, even themes! - but it’s all just..there. Exaggerated line sketches no one ever went back and turned into full illustrations. It’s most painful with the characters – every one of them is a caricature, precisely and exactly what they first appear to be with the same beats hit again and again every single time they appear on screen. Which more or less for the quirky supporting cast but like – we get multiple chapters from the perspective of the aforementioned abusive husband, and something like a fifth of the book is from the POV of the sleazy corporate striver ex. At no point does either one get the slightest bit of nuance or pathos – Tyler’s chapters in particular end up reading like bad SCP field reports, with so much self-destructive instituional backstabbing and betrayal it all ends up being slapstick.

Sarah the love interest gets a special anti-shout-out here. Like, I know I’m just picky about and have a low tolerance for romances, but I swear – the single most important dynamic in the book in terms of both wordcount and narrative signposting is her and Julie’s romance, and it is just So. Bad. Every single scene she’s in is dedicated to rubbing your face in how fragile and traumatized and selfless and adorable and good-hearted and damaged she is, and the entirety of the romance is essentially one of those jokes about how lesbians will spend six years living with each other awkwardly waiting for the other to ask them out but stretched across 400 pages. I spent half the book patiently waiting for any hint of hidden depths or surprising twists to her character, but nope! Just a perfect domestic angel.

The setting actually has something of a similar issue. It feels like an exaggerated pastiche of urban fantasy, assuming the reader is already familiar with all the tropes and conceits and making only the most perfunctory possible gestures towards exploring or justifying them. This can absolutely work, but if you’re doing it you kind of need to use the genre as the background or setup for something else that the book is actually about – deconstruction or satire or character study or Wacky Hijinks or something. When what’s gruesome action and drama is supposed to be the star attraction, the grounding and verisimilitude of the world is actually pretty key.

A really tight, tense plot could have absolutely redeemed the whole but, well, nope. The literal entire plot hinges on Tyler, in the course of one conversation several drinks in at a crowded bar, baiting Julie into looking for a particular type of tome from a particular store so she’ll try the ritual he had swapped out with one to curse her – but then also that he didn’t know what the ritual he swapped in actually did. The big evil wall street law firm has a corporate culture that should have collapsed about 48 hours after it was founded, and absolutely nothing about it makes sense for a place with lasting institutional power. Everyone’s morality and perceptiveness changes as the plot requires. The pacing feels like they had to pull a happy ending out of their asses at the 2/3 mark and shove the rest of the book into a sequel. It’s just, it’s bad!

Also the prose starts at fun and evocative and keeps pushing into Lovecraftian levels of adjective-addiction, and neither the A-Train nor the dead are actually at all important to the story.

Just, argh. This could have been good! The first 40 pages were a really fun schlocky monster-of-the-week story! The first ritual summoning the Proctor was basically perfect! I wanted to love this!

[horizon-verizon]

Aegon III and Jaehaera “healing together” would be like:

Jaehaera: I miss my father.

Aegon III, having a PTSD trigger: Well, I miss my mother! AND YOU KNOW WHO GRUESOMELY KILLED MY MOTHER WHILE I WAS WATCHING ?!

Jaehaera: And I miss my twin brother! AND YOU KNOW WHO SEND THE MEN WHO BEHEADED HIM IN FRONT OF ME & MY MOM ?!

Aegon III: Nothing would have happened if your grandmother didn’t usurped my mother and your uncle didn’t ruthlessly murdered my brother.

Their marriage would have been SOOO INCREDIBLY UGLY, BITTER, MISERABLE AND HOPELESS. That union never stood a chance. Aegon III spent about 3 years married to her and never made any attempt to befriend her and had more interactions with Unwin Peake’s daughter than her. They wouldn’t have any children, he’d abdicate in favor of Viserys if he didn’t marry Daenaera and then locked himself in a tower.

Yeah, I agree. I understand that the real English War of the Roses that war/sub-battles ended with a happier and successful marriage between the two warring houses of York and Lancaster so it seems that Aegon III and Jaehaera could have also had a great marriage--or at least a civil one with a lot of kids/heirs. However, though yes we had the structure of "one child of the two warring families marry for peace" of the War of Roses, the Dance was modeled and takes inspiration from the Anarchy, where Empress Matilda fought against her male cousin, Stephen of Blois, for the English throne. Where the conflict was strictly about who deserves the throne: the female declared heir or the eldest male relative? And who will obtain it, who fights for them, who suffers, etc.

Plus Henry VII of the Plantagenet branch of Tudor (through Jon of Gaunt) & Elizabeth of the house of York--the people who married each other while from the opposing houses after the Battle of Bosworth Field--were both relatively healthy adults AND Henry actually won the throne through his own leadership in battle after killing Richard II (her paternal uncle). The same uncle whose mainly held responsible for Elizabeth's younger brothers' disappearances. So Henry & Elizabeth had a way better beginning than Aegon III & Jaehaera.

Even with the Anarchy, GRRM doesn't transfer all of the events or major ones/results into his fiction. The conclusion of the anarchy was still a woman being passed over: Stephen won and got to rule but Empress Matilda's son--Henry Plantagenet-- was designated as the next to rule in the Treaty of Wallingford. But she wasn't brutally murdered in front of said son like Rhaenyra; yet despite Stephen's efforts his own sons never sat the throne like Aegon; yet the war ravaged England as the Dance did Westeros enough that in both the lords/barons sought peace above all AND Matilda lost the throne.

GRRM seemed to want to capture the sense of futility of the war's destruction (not its cause though, not absolutely) with how it should have never happened to begin with from a place of usurping a woman. There was no happy-dappy marriage or even an attempt at one in the real thing.

Jaehaera was made totally disadvantaged for a reason:

a) making her and Aegon both children in the aftermath of the war, controlled by ambitious adults still who do not have their best interests at heart makes to highlight theie vulnerability and the cause being misogyny and classism leading those in power to declare such wars

b) their parents fighting and destroying each other to the bitter end instead of what occurred in the actual Anarchy

c) the greens pushed for war under the principle of "men only" at the cost of its female members' mental and physical health or putting those in danger (mainly Helaena and Jaehaera) for the sake of power. Jaehaera could have grown up happier and for longer if her own father hadn't decided to calm down and not try to go after several of Rhaenyra's supporters in the way that he was planning to, nor should he have usurped his older sister. He shouldn't have celebrated Lucerys' murder at the feast he threw that was almost certainly part of the inspiration for Blood & Cheese whereby his oldest male heir was killed. His other male heir was put into danger when he, again, usurped Rhaenyra and led armies against her when she had been already declared and ACCEPTED as Viserys heir for years. All he had left was his daughter, but bc the whole point of his claim was "males only" AND he was himself an asshole, he decided to marry again to get another male heir. It was also Alicent who tried to intimidate or persuade her granddaughter to kill Aegon as if the child wasn't already scarred from war and mentally fragile from her disabilities so that she, Alicent, could get revenge against the already dead Rhaenyra. The greens, not the blacks or Rhaenyra, are the main ones at fault for Jaehaera's demise--her death is on their hands since every which way, they chose power over her.

[beardedherculestrucker]

This very cute and absolutely breathtaking musclemonster, a 554 pounds heavy fascist and ex-soldier revisited the army academy ar this celebration day; a whisper was going 'round here: almost every gay-musclebull and average built an-wanted him as a lover so much...!

What his admirers don't know yet: this 66 years old, active fascist called Richard, has a private prison, where he keeps about 50 refugees in cells to give them a very gruesome treatment...

...a rather bloody sight, that is...