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heartofstanding · 2 years

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Hi, I have a question about Henry V if thats ok?How reliable are reports about Henrys “wild youth” ? Are there any contemporary sources for it or is it a latter invention?

Hi, that is definitely more than OK! I love getting questions about my boy.

There are contemporary sources for Henry's wild youth. The earliest version of the "great change" from the riotous prince to dignified king is found Thomas Walsingham’s chronicle:

as soon as he was invested with the emblems of royalty, he suddenly became a different man. His care now was for self-restraint and goodness and gravity, and there was no kind of virtue which he put on one side and did not desire to practise himself. [1]

However, as much as I love him, Shakespeare's "madcap prince" Hal as depicted in Henry IV, Parts One and Two, has very little in common with the historical Henry. The story of his criminal tendencies and arrest by Chief Justice Gascoigne are 16th century inventions. Most of his Eastcheap associates are characters invented by Shakespeare - there was no historical counterparts for Poins, Mistress Quickly, Doll Tearsheet, Bardolph and Peto, and the historical counterparts for Falstaff (Sir John Oldcastle, Sir John Fastolf) have little in common with him.

So what did the historical Henry's wildness look like? The anonymous Vita et Gesta Henrici Quinti tells us Henry was:

an assiduous pursuer of fun, devoted to organ instruments [an intentional double entendre] which relaxed the rein on his modesty, although under the military service of Mars, he seethed youthfully with the flames of Venus too, and tended to be open to other novelties as befitted the age of his untamed youth. [2]

The Vita et Gesta had been commissioned by Walter, Lord Hungerford who was close to Henry (reportedly, Hungerford held him in his arms as he died) and similar sentiments are found in Tito Livio Frulovisi's Vita Henrici Quinti, commissioned by Henry's youngest brother, Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester:

He delighted in song and musical instruments, he exercised meanly the feats of Venus and of Mars, and other pastimes of youth for so long as the King his father lived. [3]

Both of these texts were written in the mid-to-late 1430s after Henry's death and this, alongside with their sources, suggests that they should be taken seriously. Basically, they seem to be saying that he was young, he liked fun, he liked music, he liked sex and while he may have worked hard, he partied hard too.

Some of these claims are verifiable. We know Henry liked music, we know he played the harp, recorder and pipes/flutes and that he may have been the "Roy Henry" who composed two mass movements found in the Old Hall Manuscript collection, though the Vita et Gesta probably didn’t mean that kind of music. We know that much of Henry's adolescence was spent dealing with Owain Glyndŵr's revolt and that at sixteen, he fought at the Battle of Shrewsbury and was seriously wounded.

The claims that Henry "seethed youthfully with the flames of Venus" are more difficult to substantiate. There is no evidence Henry had mistresses or illegitimate children though it’s possible, even likely, that such evidence wouldn’t survive, particularly if he had no long term sexual relationships. Nor were there rumours that he engaged in relationships with favourites that were "not without some taint of an obscene relationship", to quote Walsingham on Richard II’s relationship with Robert de Vere [1]. One of Henry’s close friends, Richard Courtenay, Bishop of Norwich, apparently commented that he did not believe "that [Henry] had known women carnally after having received the crown" [4], which might, as some historians suggest, imply that this celibacy was notable in comparison to what came before. It also might be notable that Courtenay has been suggested to have been Henry’s lover. So the image of Henry as a playboy prince is more difficult to prove but not impossible.

The story that Henry banished his unsuitable companions upon his coronation first appears in an anonymous version of The Brut, written in 1478-1479. Gwilym Dodd attempted to find evidence of this story in contemporary records such as charter witnesses, household appointments and the coronation livery roll, and there is no evidence of a great purge of Henry’s household. He did distance himself from the “infamous heretic”, Sir John Oldcastle, and fourteen lower status men who had been retained for life by Henry when Prince of Wales did not appear to have been taken on by him as king. But “there is no other evidence to suggest that he turned his back on his former associates“. The story he did might simply reflect “the inevitable transformation of [...] the relatively small, exclusive ‘private’ affinity of a Prince into a much enlarged and inclusive 'public' affinity of a king” [5].

With all this caveats about Henry V’s “wildness” it might be worth noting that Dodd suggests the story of Henry’s household purge might be to allow the author to acknowledge some of the less... salubrious aspects of Henry’s behaviour as prince without blaming Henry himself but on the nameless unsuitable companions who had already been appropriately “dealt with” by Henry. James C. Bulman, editor of the Arden Henry IV, Part Two, also offers the possible solution that the “wild youth” might have disguised the more serious conflicts between Henry and his father.

In the last years of Henry IV’s reign, Henry was often in serious conflict with his father. This “wildness” might have been a way of talking about this conflict without acknowledging the often treasonous undertones and undercurrents of both patricide and filicide. The image we have of Henry in the last years of Henry IV’s reign is of, as Katherine J. Lewis puts it, “an ambitious young man refusing to wait his turn for power within the the patriarchal hierarchy patiently and submissively” [6]. There were rumours that he or Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester had urged Henry IV to abdicate in his favour, something that was hardly going to go down well with the king. There were also rumours that Henry had been plotting to usurp his father which Henry felt he had to strenuously denied and allegations of misconduct that he was eventually cleared of. On his part, Henry IV was rumoured to be considering disinheriting Prince Henry to allow the crown to pass to his second and favourite son, Thomas, Duke of Clarence, and may have been playing his sons off each other to maintain control of them. The First English Life of Henry the Fifth, written in 1513, contains a story where Prince Henry sought to reconcile with his father and, granted an audience with him, gave his father a knife and told him "I desire you in your honour of God, for the easing of your heart, here before your knees to slay me with this dagger" [7]. The fact that the First English Life was written 100 years after Henry IV’s death and it’s source for this story is unknown may make this story doubtful but it does speak to the tensions around Henry’s relationship with his father. In addition to the possibility that the “wild prince” story was a way of acknowledging this conflict indirectly, two of Henry’s biographers, Teresa Cole and John Matusiak, both speculated that Henry’s wayward behaviour might have been come as a reaction to this conflict.

Henry also clashed with some of the “old guard” of his father’s regime, most notably Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury and possibly William Gascoigne, the Chief Justice of England in Henry IV’s reign, who was either removed from office or resigned shortly after Henry V’s accession. Peter McNiven in also makes a convincing case for Prince Henry having some sympathies with or at least tolerance for Lollardy, which might made him an alarming prospect for those, such as Henry IV and Archbishop Arundel, who supported a hardline approach the “Lollard problem” (the second year of Henry IV’s reign saw the passing of De heretico comburendo, a law which punished heresy by burning at the stake; it is largely viewed to be Arundel’s pet project). It might be that Henry V’s wildness might have been, to build on Bulman’s suggestion, a way to disguise less acceptable and more controversial positions Henry might have held.

Personally, yes, I think that the idea of the “wild youth” might be to disguise the more serious conflicts going on at the centre of power and in some ways makes for a “sexier” story than political conflicts. I also think that if there is truth to the “worked hard, partied hard” image, this may have come as a reaction to the situation Henry found himself in. Henry had come to adulthood in the midst of immense pressures, from civil war, rebellion and conflict with his father and brother. He turned thirteen in the middle of his father’s usurpation of the throne and the deposition of Richard II - someone Henry seems to have been fond of. A handful of months after Henry’s thirteenth birthday, he survived the Epiphany Rising, a plot to restore Richard II to the throne and to kill his father - and, allegedly, to kill himself and his three younger brothers. He was just sixteen years old at the Battle of Shrewsbury, one of the bloodiest battles fought on English soil. He was severely injured, taking an arrow to the face, and left permanently disfigured - no doubt a traumatic experience. It would be hardly surprising if he sought outlets for these stresses and trauma in sex, alcohol and other wayward behaviour.

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[1] The Chronica Maiora of Thomas Walsingham, trans. David Preest (The Boydell Press 2005)

[2] Anne Curry, Henry V: From Playboy Prince to Warrior King (Penguin Monarchs 2015), annotations as in text.

[3] my modernisation of "He delighted in songe and musicall Instruments, he exercised meanelie the feates of Venus; and of Mars, and other pastimes of youth, for so longe as the Kinge his father liued" from C.L. Kingsford, ed., The First English Life of Henry V (Clarendon Press 1911)). The First English Life is largely a translation of Frulovisi's Vita and the only English translation.

[4] original Latin: "non credebat quod cognovisset mulierem carnaliter post quam ipse coronam susceperat”

[5] “Henry V’s Establishment: Service, Loyalty and Reward in 1413“ in Henry V: New Interpretations, ed. Gwilym Dodd (York Medieval Press 2018). All quotes in this paragraph come from here.

[6] Kingship and Masculinity in Late Medieval England (Routledge 2013)

[7] A. R. Myers, ed. English Historical Documents: 1327-1485 (Routledge 1969), modernised from C.L. Kingsford, ed., The First English Life of Henry V (Clarendon Press 1911)).

Other sources mentioned:

Cole, Teresa, Henry V: The Life of the Warrior King & the Battle of Agincourt (Amberley 2016) Matusiak, John, Henry V (Routledge 2013) McNiven, Peter, Heresy and Politics in the Reign of Henry IV: The Burning of John Badby (The Boydell Press 1987) Shakespeare, William, King Henry IV, Part 2, ed. James C. Bulman (Bloomsbury 2016)

#henry v #henry iv #asks #anonymous #text posts

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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Anonymous asked: I read a past answer that you gave on the greatness of Shakespeare and I admit it was an almost convincing argument - if he had written his own plays. But now we’re supposed to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the death of Moliere? Why? I don’t see why the French are making a big deal about Moliere. I would have kept quiet about it. Like Shakespeare he was an imposter who didn’t write his own plays, and the reason he was so popular was because he was best friends with Louis XIV who backed Moliere financially. He has nothing to say about us today (nothing about gender or race or social justice). I don’t understand why the French venerate him.

I don’t even know where to begin in answering all this. So let me try unpack some of the questions I think you’re asking when you’re not being a tad rude to Molière. Good manners are a prerequisite to civilised conversation. There’s no point winning an argument if you fail to win over the person first.

Let’s get the authorial question out of the way first because it is - frankly speaking - ignorant. Anyone who believes this nonsense even after looking at the whole evidence is just confirming just how intellectually illiterate they really are.

You may be be aware - and I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you do - that one of the more persistent prejudices has been did Molière write his own Molière repertoire? The criticism has been that Molière did not write his work, which was attributed to others, in particular Pierre Corneille. This is the thesis of the poet Pierre Louÿs in articles in Comœdia published in 1919 - in two articles entitled respectively Corneille est-il l'auteur d'Amphitryon ? and L'imposteur de Corneille et le Tartuffe de Molière. He claimed that Molière was just the pen name for Corneille. In this Louÿes was parroting the ideas of Abel Lefranc, an established scholar on Rabelais,

LeFranc, for some reason also believed William Stanley, 6th earl of Derby was the true author of the Shakespearian plays in his largely forgotten work, Sous le masque de William Shakespeare: William Stanley, Vie comte de Derby (2 vol., 1918). Lefranc in turn was parroting the exact same ideas as James Greenstreet first spouted this outlandish theory in the 1890s.

So let’s get this ‘Shakespeare never wrote his own plays’ trope out of the way first because as a Shakespearian lover I can’t just let it slide as the yanks say. And who knows I may even educate some who reads this to put this tired parlour game to bed. The same for Molière. I hope in doing so I can also kill two birds with one stone.

The case for William Stanley (Derby) as Shakespeare rests primarily on two 1599 documents, one describing him as “busied only in penning comedies for the common players,” and the other, by his wife in a letter to Sir Robert Cecil, as “taking delight in the players.” It is worth pausing to note that Derby’s wife was Elizabeth Vere Stanley, Countess of Derby and Lord of Mann (1575–1627), the eldest daughter of Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford - the other candidate to have been the real author behind Shakespeare’s plays - the so-called Oxford School.

This documented evidence, that Oxford’s own son-in-law was one of the closeted aristocratic playwrights of the period, serves, as some critics have suggested, to confirm how secretive much literary activity associated with the theatre remained. Despite the two letters which record his theatrical activities, no public documents of any sort acknowledge that Derby was a closeted playwright.

But no one, not even Shakespearean conspiracists, seriously consider Derby as the real author. there is the inconvenient fact that Derby (like Francis Bacon, anther candidate as the real Shakespeare) lived far too long - until 1642 - to fit with the known chronology of the author’s career. Did Derby just fall unaccountably silent for the last 30 years of his life? That’s almost the last 38 years, more than 80% of his adult life, if one considers the sudden drop-off in new Shakespearean publications after 1604.

The most persistent and popularised theory is of course that Edward de Vere, the Earl of Oxford, was the true author and Will was just a front man. This is the so-called Oxford School.

It is established beyond doubt that Edward De Vere did have literary ability. Edward wrote and published a considerable number of poems and a good amount of prose under his own name. Having studied Edward De Vere, I believe that Edward De Vere was genuinely proud of his poems since he defended these quite violently when other aristocrats mocked or criticised them. In all honesty, I think his poems and prose are good and make enjoyable reading. But I would also concede that they do not match the soaring brilliance of Shakespeare. So why would Edward De Vere publish “good” literature under his own name, with great pride, and yet conceal the fact that he was writing plays of unrivalled brilliance?

Here I am not alone, computer experts have performed “stylometric” analysis. They have fed all the known prose and poetic writings of Edward de Vere and all the plays and poems of William Shakespeare into a computer, and looked for similarities, There are absolutely no crossovers whatsoever.

Everything that we know of Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford, is that he was a real shit. Alan Nelson’s 2003 meticulous biography called him a ‘monstrous adversary’. Edward was a proud, arrogant, self-centred man, convinced of his own greatness, who became angry if criticised in any way. He frequently challenged people to duels, killing some of his opponents: had he not been an Earl, and well-connected, he might have been hanged for murder. He got his own retainers to beat up, even kill servants of those he did not like.

Are we to believe that the proud, arrogant, self-obsessed, self-seeking Edward De Vere would have been likely to conceal the fact that he was writing plays of unrivaled brilliance? And why would he spend twenty years writing plays, expend all that time and energy to produce these great works of literature, then take elaborate measures to conceal the fact that he was writing them?

In the sixteenth century, England was an incredibly class-conscious society. Edward De Vere was an Earl, the heir to the longest line of Earls in England. He would have expected 99% of the population, even many of his fellow aristocrats, to defer to him. If the self-aggrandising, aristocratic Edward De Vere spent twenty years of his life writing plays, wouldn’t you have expected him to show the plays to his fellow aristocrats to prove what a brilliant writer he was, rather than conceal them as the work of a mere plebian glover’s son, a mere commoner, a person, whom Edward De Vere would probably have considered it beneath his dignity to speak to?

Would Edward De Vere, an Earl, give all these plays, his life’s work, to William Shakespeare, a mere commoner, somebody who, by the protocols of the time, could not even have been called an “esquire” or even a “gentleman”, and silently stand by for over ten years, letting William Shakespeare receive all the plaudits, praise, and adulation for writing these plays?

Edward De Vere was a patron of other writers. He was a leading sponsor of John Lyly (c.1553–1606): Lyly dedicated some of his books to Edward. Edward De Vere was related to Arthur Golding (1536–1606), the poet and translator: Edward De Vere did much to advance Golding’s career. One of Golding’s great achievements was his translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which Shakespeare used as source material. Well, if Edward De Vere was so close to these literary figures, wouldn’t you think he might have discussed his plays with them, or that they might have suspected that he was writing these plays?

Edward De Vere was a patron of the dramatist Robert Greene (1558–1592), who wrote several popular plays: one, entitled Gwydonius, was dedicated to Edward. But, nowadays, Robert Greene is best known to history because he wrote a vitriolic attack on Shakespeare, calling Shakespeare an “Upstart Crow”, complaining that Shakespeare’s plays were not really all that good, and did not deserve the popularity they had attracted, because they were full of “gimmicks” and lacked true literary quality. Robert Greene said that Shakespeare was just an actor, and actors had no business to write plays. Yet if Robert Greene was familiar with Edward De Vere, might Robert Greene have known that it was really Edward De Vere who was writing the plays? And if Edward De Vere wrote these plays, by attacking the author of the plays attributed to Shakespeare, Robert Greene was rather “biting the hand that fed him”!

Yet, for all Edward De Vere’s involvement in the literary world of Elizabethan (and early Jacobean) England, there is no record or mention that Edward De Vere and William Shakespeare were in any way acquainted with each other, or that they ever met. There is a large amount of source material for William Shakespeare's life, all of which has been subjected to the most minute analysis. Yet not one single historical source suggests that William Shakespeare ever met Edward De Vere, or that the two of them even once shared even the remotest connection. I find that this is especially puzzling if Edward De Vere was really writing Shakespeare’s plays.

Shakespeare belonged to a theatrical company called “The Lord Chamberlain’s Men”, and it is established that The Lord Chamberlains Man performed many of Shakespeare’s plays. Yet there is no record that Edward De Vere was even remotely connected with any of the people in “The Lord Chamberlain’s Men”. Instead, Edward De Vere financed a group of players called “Oxford’s Men” or “The Earl of Oxford’s Men”.

If Edward De Vere was writing plays, and he wanted to conceal his identity by pretending that somebody else was writing them, wouldn’t he have been more likely to pass them off as the work of one of the actors from “Oxford’s Men”, his own theatrical company, rather than that of somebody with whom he had no connection whatsoever?

Surely, if Edward De Vere was really writing Shakespeare’s plays, wouldn’t you have expected his own personal troupe of actors to perform some of the Shakespeare plays? But while the activities of Oxford’s Men are well documented, there is no record that they ever performed a Shakespeare play.

This brings me on to another point: Edward De Vere would have been on familiar terms with Queen Elizabeth I, He married Anne Cecil, the daughter of William Cecil, Lord Burleigh, who was Elizabeth’s chief minister. He was related to many of the other leading aristocrats of the day. He officiated at the coronation of Elizabeth’s successor, King James I. Edward De Vere must have been on speaking terms with all “the great and the good” of Elizabethan and early Jacobean England. And none of these people were even remotely aware that Edward De Vere was writing all these incredible plays?

Edward De Vere died in 1604, leaving an 11-year-old son, Henry, who held the title of 18th Earl of Oxford until his death in 1625, aged 32. Well, wouldn’t Edward De Vere’s son have known that his father was writing Shakespeare’s plays? Wouldn’t Henry De Vere, Edward's own son, have mentioned this fact, just once in his lifetime?

Henry De Vere had no children, so the title of Earl Of Oxford passed to a distant cousin, Robert De Vere, who became 19th Earl of Oxford, leaving a son, Aubrey De Vere, the 20th and last Earl of Oxford, who died in 1702. Thus, for 98 years after Edward De Vere’s death, the De Vere family was still playing a role in English (and foreign) affairs. Wouldn’t just one member of the De Vere family have just once mentioned that it was really their kinsman who wrote these plays? Wouldn’t one of them have once made just one faint protest that William Shakespeare had stolen the De Vere family’s rightful claim to fame?

William Shakespeare died in 1616. To ensure that his genius survived, in 1623 some admirers produced what is now known as “The First Folio” giving the full text of 36 of his plays. More importantly, 18 of these plays, practically half of Shakespeare’s known work, were first published in “The First Folio”. The “First Folio” includes a long introduction by some of Shakespeare’s admirers, constantly praising his brilliance. It even features Shakespeare’s woodcut engraving.

The “First Folio” is, more than anything else, THE work that ensured that these incomparable plays would be preserved for posterity and that Shakespeare would come to be regarded as the world’s greatest playwright.

Well, the “First Folio” is dedicated to Philip Herbert, Earl of Montgomery, who was married to Edward De Vere’s daughter, Susan. So are we to believe that Edward De Vere’s own daughter and his son-in-law, members of the very elite of English aristocratic society, would allow themselves to be implicated in a fraudulent attempt to attribute Edward De Vere’s literary genius to William Shakespeare, a mere commoner, and never once quibble or protest about this?

Not only that, but Ben Jonson (1572–1637) the poet and dramatist, (a candidate for England’s second-best playwright) was personally acquainted with William Shakespeare. There are stories that Jonson and Shakespeare conducted a “friendly rivalry” in which they subjected each other to what might be termed “affectionate sarcasm”. Yet for all their supposed differences, after Shakespeare’s death, Ben Jonson collaborated in producing the First Folio, writing a poem praising Shakespeare’s genius at the start of the book. I find it hard to believe that, if Shakespeare was not really writing the plays, but was only acting as a “front” for Edward De Vere, that Ben Jonson, the second-best playwright of the age, never suspected this.

So, not only did Edward De Vere conceal the fact that he was writing these fantastic plays while he was alive. But, after his death, there was a comprehensive effort, backed by the leading writers of the age, and Edward De Vere’s own family, to mislead the whole world, by publishing all the plays in a book that attributed the authorship to a total imposter, while not even alluding to the true creator of the plays? Again, if Edward De Vere had really written the plays, would not one person who was involved in producing the First Folio have even suspected this? Would not just one person have made just the faintest protest that they were giving the glory to the wrong person?

There was a historian, author, and pioneer archaeologist called John Aubrey, who lived between 1626 and 1697. John Aubrey compiled a work, now called “Brief Lives”, which was a collection of biographies of famous contemporary or near-contemporary people. Aubrey’s Brief Lives includes information about both Edward De Vere and William Shakespeare (as well as Ben Jonson). Now, Edward De Vere and William Shakespeare both died before John Aubrey was born. But John Aubrey sought out old people who knew, or whose parents or grandparents had known, Edward De Vere and William Shakespeare. People who have studied Edward De Vere and William Shakespeare think that Aubrey’s Brief Lives is the very last “oral” record, the very last source of “first-hand information” about these two people. Yet not only does John Aubrey never even vaguely suggest that Edward De Vere wrote Shakespeare’s plays; John Aubrey also seems to have been fully convinced that William Shakespeare had written these plays.

If Edward De Vere had really written William Shakespeare’s plays, it seems wholly incredible to me, that, during the whole of the Elizabethan and Jacobean era, not one single member of the De Vere family, or the literary establishment, or the political elite, or the court circles in which the Earls of Oxford moved, or that one of the hundreds and thousands of manuscript sources that have survived from the Elizabethan era, or that one of the hundreds of books that were printed during the Elizabethan era, or any of Edward De Vere’s literary friends, or any of Edward De Vere’s many enemies, or even Edward De Vere himself, never once made even the vaguest murmur that all the glory of writing an entire body of literature that ranks among the highest achievements of humanity had been completely and unjustly attributed to the son of a glover from Stratford Upon Avon.

Our reasons for believing that William Shakespeare of Stratford wrote the plays published under his name are the same type as the reasons for believing that any other Elizabethan author wrote the works ascribed to him; indeed, as I've said many times before, the evidence for Shakespeare's authorship is more extensive than the comparable evidence for the great majority of Elizabethan authors, especially playwrights. If you insist on disbelieving in Shakespeare's authorship, fine, but then you'll have to also disbelieve in the authorship of most other Elizabethan and Jacobean drama, if you're going to be consistent.

And why Oxford? Why not other candidates who could have authored Shakespeare plays? Even I could also make a damn good case for the Earl of Essex or Marlowe. And of course, the "evidence" for Bacon has long been presented by Baconians, even though most Oxfordians seem unaware of its extent. In fact, many Oxfordians seem to be under the impression that Oxford stands alone as an alternative to Shakespeare, when actually he's a relatively weak member of a rather large pack of potential "candidates". Oxford's candidacy is so widespread for essentially political reasons: an English schoolteacher just happened to latch on to Oxford rather than somebody else 80 years ago (based on a poem that Oxford probably didn't write), and the Oxfordians found some elements of Oxford's biography that they could construct into a romantic version of the person they thought should have written Shakespeare's plays.

Bah! Humbug! As my grandfather would say.

The whole question of Shakespeare authorship, much like the Molière question is about proper scholarship, or the lack thereof. I am dismissive of Derbyites, Oxfordians, Baconians, or even Marlovians (Marlowe lovers) because in all their respective cases they almost entirely make their argument solely on the internal evidence from the plays, when orthodox scholars have often used evidence from the plays to speculate on such aspects of Shakespeare's life as the Lost Years. The difference - and it is a big fucking deal - is that orthodox scholars do not use such speculation as evidence as to who wrote the plays; rather, they use it to supplement and flesh out the external evidence, all of which indicates that William Shakespeare of Stratford was the author. The contrarians on the other hand,, treat such internal reconstructions as primary "evidence" (despite their inherent subjectivity), simply rationalising away all the considerable external evidence when it does not agree with their impressions of who the author must have been.

In his book, Contested Will: Who Wrote Shakespeare? James Shapiro, the Larry Miller Professor of English and Comparative Literature at Columbia University, traced the history of the authorship question. Interestingly, he noted that by the early 1980s the Oxfordian theory was largely moribund. It was revived partly through the ceaseless efforts of Charlton Ogburn (a more capable soldier than he was a scholar).

It also received a great deal of media exposure through two mock trials, one before American Supreme Court Justices William Brennan, Harry Blackmun and John Paul Stevens and one before three British judges, Lord Oliver of Aylmerton, Lord Templeman and Lord Ackner. Oxford lost both cases, but the trials gave the theory media attention and legitimacy, especially since both Blackmun and Stevens showed some sympathy for the Oxfordian cause, although, since the burden of proof was on the Oxfordians, they did not feel enough evidence for his authorship had been presented. Stevens has subsequently decided that Oxford did indeed write the plays. Certain elements of the Oxford theory are unlikely to be generally compelling except to those who are fond of conspiracy theories, but these elements tend to be missing or downplayed when the theory is mooted in the popular media mainstream.

The idea that Shakespeare was too ill-educated to write the plays is arrogant elitism in my view - intellectual masturbation of so-called higher minds. The idea that Shakespeare’s experience and personality do not match his writings is denying that writers imagine and inhabit characters very different from their own - it’s called fiction. The fact that Oxford died before a significant number of the plays was apparently written is difficult if not laughable to explain. And it is far easier to imagine middle class Shakespeare observing courtly manners than it is imagining Oxford learning about the fauna and flora of the Forest of Arden.

It is also true that Shakespeare probably did not go to Oxford or Cambridge, but then, neither did a number of other playwrights of the time, including some, like Ben Jonson, who were more classically-inclined than Shakespeare. We have no documentary evidence that Shakespeare attended grammar school, but that is because enrolment records from the King’s New School in Stratford do not survive. Because Shakespeare’s father John was an alderman and later High Bailiff, his son would have been eligible to attend the school for free.

According to Shapiro, “Scholars have exhaustively reconstructed the curriculum in Elizabethan grammar schools and have shown that what Shakespeare…would have learned there…was roughly equivalent to a university degree today, with a better facility in Latin than that of a typical classics major”.

Either way you look at it it’s both a condemnation of our current woeful education system and our hubris of how superior we think modern education is compared to the past. I say let’s give King’s New School its due for the quality of its education in the 16th century and Shakespeare for his creative skills.

I digress. Back to Molière.

In more recent years this literary paternity has had the gloss of ‘scientific’ verification by the academic Dominique Labbé who, on the basis of computer processing of the texts, established it was indeed it was Cornielle was the real author of Molière’s plays in his book ‘Corneille dans l'ombre de Molière’ (2003). The argument he makes in his own book is that 16 of Molière's plays are in fact by Corneille's hand. But, like Shakespeare, the most recent textual analysis work confirms, using methods from stylometry, that Molière's plays and Corneille's were written by two different authors.

Other fanciful studies see Molière as the nominee of Louis XIV himself. This is the thesis of the canon and astronomer Georges Lemaître, which he sets out in Une Paire de Molière(s) (2013), in which he attempts to demonstrate that 'Molière is a double star', around which the Sun King, the author, according to him, of almost half of his plays, particularly the first ones, gravitates.

Again, like Shakespeare, people disregard the historical method of scrutinising the external evidence over the subjective internal evidence from within the plays. I also think people are not using their common sense to think properly about historical context. At a time when the performance of plays generally preceded their publication - which depended on their success on stage - when intellectual property and copyright were not yet guaranteed by law It is understandable that Molière, primarily an actor and troupe leader, took little care in publishing his comedies, which he only signed at a later date without having managed to compile them into complete works.

Nevertheless, the way in which he fought, from the Précieuses ridicules onwards, against pirate editions and counterfeits of his works, as well as against the extent of the profits amassed on some of his plays, do not allow us to doubt the authorship of his repertoire.

Molière's statements, in the preamble to the publication of some of his works, affirming the primacy of performance over printing, are more a matter of posture than of real conviction. Thus, the Avis au lecteur (Notice to the reader) of L'Amour médecin, published one year after its creation in 1666, states: "Everyone knows that comedies are made to be performed, and I advise reading this one only to people who have eyes to discover in reading all the play of the theatre”. And while it is likely that Louis XIV did suggest the addition of the hunter's scene to Les Fâcheux - after its premiere at Fouquet's castle in Vaux-Le-Vicomte in 1661 according to Molière - this does not make him the secret writer of all or even part of his work.

Was Molière privileged writer favoured by King Louis XIV? Yes, of course he was but were they bosom buddies? I think not.

Molière's prominent position at court from the 1660s onwards, as well as his position as the king's upholsterer, inspired the idea of a poet-courtesan, a favourite of the king, with whom he was supposed to maintain a close relationship. The fact that Louis XIV was the godfather of his first son, Louis Poquelin, lends credence to this ill-founded conception. This benevolence, according to legend, earned him both the king's privacies and the enmity of the domestic staff and the court, who were jealous of such familiarity outside of all protocol.

This trope crystallises around a dramatic scene of political fiction, that of the famous 'dinner' between Molière and Louis XIV. This iconic dinner was set up by Louis XIV himself, who ostensibly invited Molière, the in-vogue man of the theatre, to his table in order to make up for the insult he had received from the king’s valets by refusing to eat with him.

According to this account, which inspired several famous paintings, the two men shared a chicken leg, served by the king himself, in front of the astonished eyes of the eminent members of the court, who would then have shown him all the respect required by his rank. This political vision of Molière as a friend of kings was taken up by many subsequent monarchs in office, first and foremost Louis-Philippe I, who was anxious to include the line of the Dukes of Orléans, the youngest branch of the French monarchy, in the prestigious heritage of the legitimate branch of Louis the Great.

However we know this dinner never happened. Royal court protocol formally forbade a comedian, an infamous profession in the Church, to sit at the table of a king. The meal, like all the ritualised moments of court life, was taken in public. It was governed by dozens of articles from various regulations inherited from Henry III.

It’s clear that it was a scene of pure invention which nevertheless has inspired the great historical paintings of famous artists such as Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres with Molière à la table de Louis XIV (1857), Jean-Léon Gérôme with Louis XIV and Molière (1862), Jean Hégésippe Vetter with Molière reçu par Louis XIV, scène de fiction (Salon of 1864) or Jean-François Garneray with Molière honoré par Louis XIV (1824).

At the Grand Couvert, however, only the royal family is invited, and at the Petit Couvert, the king dines alone in his room, served by the officers of the Bouche.

This legend was inspired, during the 19th century, by a confusion over the prerogatives of Poquelin's position as upholsterer and valet, which was certainly part of the chamber service, but it did not make him a valet in the service of the monarch. It is amplified by a fantasy based on the figure of the jester or the king's fool. This rather Shakespearean vision alters the understanding of the relationship between the pensioned artist and the prince who commissioned him, which is part of the very strict framework of royal patronage.

The numerous eulogies of the king that punctuate the prologues, interludes and epilogues of Molière's plays, not to mention the prefaces and dedications of the printed versions, particularly in the comédies-ballets resulting from royal commissions, are less a spontaneous tribute to a friendly and personal relationship than an exercise in style imposed by the rules of patronage, which require artists to show their gratitude to their protector, especially when they benefit from a pension and the privileged status of a royal troupe, as was the case for Molière from 1665 onwards.

The written compliment to the sovereign in the prefaces of Molière’s works was in accordance to the established practice and codes from which the writer could not deviate. This is not to say that Louis XIV and Molière were kindred spirits who shared values and beliefs of gallantry and worldly pleasures within a libertine culture that was in vogue the court. Louis XIV's practical support for Molière, during the controversial theatre run of of L'École des femmes from 1662, especially Tartuffe, between 1664 and 1669, and Dom Juan, in 1665, was real. It was all the more admirable because the monarch never disowned his artist, even though it did put Louis into hot water with the austere authority of the Catholic Church.

I would also agree with you that Molière was a populist writer, up to a point. But can you hold it against him or even Shakespeare that he became so popular amongst the masses because they could recognise something of themselves in his plays? Molière did something different - he made his plays popular at the royal court.

Such was the universal appeal of Molière across society that many easily believed that its author, Molière, was close to the working classes. Observers tend to latch onto his manservant, Lafôret. The French poet and critic, Boileau, is credited with creating the striking image of a writer testing the humour of his plays by reciting them to his maid in the first reading, cutting out the passages she disapproved of. Some accounts even suggest that this wise servant was invited to the literary dinners that the playwright organised in his house in Auteuil.

The iconic value of such a scene inspired, in the following centuries, plays such as Le Souper d'Auteuil (1795) by Charles-Louis Cadet-Gassicourt, Le Ménage de Molière (1822) by Jean-Marie Alexandre Justin-Guensoul and Jean-Aimé-Nicolas Naudet, La Servante de Molière (1867) by Maurice Millot or Molière à Auteuil (1876) by Emile Blémont. This vision of servants sharing the creative secrets of the genius, immortalised by Émile-Jean-Horace Vernet in the painting Molière consultant sa servante (1819), was taken up and amplified by Romantic and socialist writers throughout the 19th century, and then by militant leftist artists during the 20th century, who were quick to outline a Marxist reading of Molière's comedies.

The truth is that Molière, coming from a bourgeois background, lived comfortably, and lead a career in direct contact with the social elite, the literary salons, and the aristocratic circles of the court. But he wasn’t remote from every day grind of life either. He was after all born in the Halles district, with the Pont-Neuf next door. It was the liveliest district in Paris. So he met the water carriers, the workers in the printing workshops, and so on. He had his ear to the ground in a manner of speaking.

Molière was not a populist writer in this context. If his work can be considered a true human comedy, by virtue of the social diversity of his characters, there is nothing in his values or in his way of life to suggest a particular sensitivity to the people.

This received idea of the benevolent master, who listens to his servants, is reinforced by another stereotype, that of the "love of humanity" advocated by Dom Juan, who is wrongly presented as the author's spokesman character in the famous scene of the poor man in Peter's Feast or the Atheist struck down (1665). It inspired the painter Édouard-Henri Pingret to paint Molière faisan l'aumône (1834). The blasphemous dimension of the line is interpreted, at the cost of a misinterpretation, as a proof of charity and deference towards the poor on the part of a man of the theatre who is presented as being concerned with the subsistence and respect of the people. It does not stand up to a reading of the work, which remains relatively conventional in terms of the relationships between masters and servants, unlike the theatre of his successors such as Marivaux and Beaumarchais.

I know critics carp, as they do with Shakespeare, that Molière was a modern invention of the 19th Century. Partly true but hardly the point. For his works still stand the test of time. He’s not responsible for how different generations have seen him or shaped him. It was the 19th century that made Molière a romantic hero and especially the second half of the 19th century that made Molière the national hero, the one who would carry the French spirit. France was licking its wounds after the humiliation of defeat at Sedan by Prussia, which was itself in raising the flag of German nationalism with the unification of Germany. France stood politically and militarily defeated and so it sought solace in its cultural domination throughout Europe as a response to national chauvinism being seen in both England and Germany.

It’s no wonder in Molière that France found both its hero and herald. Molière was seen as the heir to the Gallic tradition dating back to the Middle Ages, to this rebellious and uniquely French spirit of populist resistance. Within Molière’s comedies the foibles of society could be laid bare and even addressed. It was the bourgeois elites that got the most stick on stage.

In Molière’s time it was the Church and the aristocracy that he mocked and their codes, customs, and hypocritical behaviour with the middle classes laughing in the stalls. By the 19th Century it was the the caricatures of the ruling haute bourgeois and the professional classes - taking the place of the church and the aristocracy - that was mocked on stage but with now with the masses looking in and laughing at their social masters.

Molière remains one of the most widely performed authors in France. So how does one explain the longevity of his success if there wasn’t an element of greatness to his works?

One obvious answer is that Molière's comedic power was truly exceptional. A comic power that no other French author of comedies has ever had, and with a continuity in the reception - of Molière's comedy - that hasn’t changed. In other words his comedy, despite the changing times and customs, has not lost their power or meaning down the ages to our current generation.

The second reason is that the very subject of his plays, i.e. the fact that Molière stages contemporary characters in order to satirise their behaviour and values, has an echo in all eras. Because satirising the behaviour of pedants, snobs, and especially people who want to convert everyone around them, concerns every period. At the same time, it gives the impression of touching the depth of human nature. So all eras can recognise themselves in Molière's plays.

Molière is still contemporary and his work still resonates with us through his characters: Tartuffe, Harpagon, le malade imaginaire…all are the creation of timeless and universal archetypes.

In the case of Tartuffe, for example, originally it was a question of making fun of what were called zealous people, i.e. people with a zealous conception of religion, with the will to impose their religious ideas in his time. Religious zealotry was obviously talked about and seen with some concern wether in the salons or in the wider society. So by playing on this, by satirising devotion and devotees, Molière is obviously putting into a humorous perspective a way of making fun of a certain type of character, a certain type of values. And in the same way as in The School for Wives, he mocks certain values that come from the Catholic religion, there too, in particular marriage as the Catholic religion conceives it, that is to say, a conception that comes from Saint Paul, with the man presented as the heart and the centre of the household, and the wife who owes absolute obedience to her husband.

Obviously the place of religion has fallen away in society but doesn’t mean other extremely rigid forms of beliefs demanding our conformity haven’t taken the place of religion. An explosion of ‘isms’ have taken the place of formalised religion - rationalism, scientism, socialism, Communism, feminism, secularism, religious fundamentalism, and more recently, woke-ism. Much of Molière’s comedies and the characters therein can be seen through the prism of his plays.

You might think Molière has nothing to say to us today then you would be sorely wrong as I have shown. I wonder what Molière would have made of our woke culture of weaponising language and compassion (race and social justice) and censoring those who took issue with its core ideas?

"To make someone’s weakness a laughing-stock is to deal them a mighty blow. People easily endure criticism, but they cannot endure mockery. People are happy to be seen as wicked, but not ridiculous." These are the words of Molière, and I think that is worthy to stand alongside anything that Shakespeare or Sophocles may have written. He used these words to defend his controversial play “Le Tartuffe”, a biting satire which attacked the hypocrisy and weaknesses of so many in Molière’s day. Almost immediately after its performance before Louis XIV, it was banned due to the perceived attack on religion. As Molière explained at the time, it was not an attack on the Church, but on hypocrites and impostors who use religion to their own selfish ends. Whatever ‘ism’ is in the ascendency and however idealistic or laudatory (as they see it) human nature doesn’t change.

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #moliere #shakespeare #literature #theatre #france #england #arts #genius #history #culture

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lovely-laurent · 3 years

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Concept: where Laurent is a prosecuting attorney and Damen is a defense attorney. Damen is defending a client and Laurent is prosecuting them. Damen is passionate about justice and helping people caught up in bad circumstances and Laurent is ruthless and revels in catching people off guard. Damen secretly stares at Laurent's ass during the opening statements meanwhile Laurent drools over Damen's muscles. It's a ficlet. Only the opening statements!!! Approx 800 words.

Prosecuting attorney Laurent Revere was standing before the jury, dressed in that stupid navy blue suit that made his stupid ass look too nice to be appropriate for court. Was he expecting to seduce the jury? Damen was half surprised that he wasn’t thrown out by the judge. Surely, she had to notice. Though Damen hadn’t been practicing law very long in Vere, having spent most of his career in Akielos, he knew Judge Vannes. He knew she didn’t tolerate any nonsense. He’d witness her call attorney’s idiots to their faces, in front of their clients. Surely, she wouldn’t tolerate a prosecutor trying to bribe a jury with good looks.

“She said, ‘It wasn’t me, I wasn’t there. It was somebody else.’ Well, what about that gap in time, her cellphone is turned off, no calls are going in, none are coming out, no one can get a hold of her. ‘I got lost. I got so lost I can’t tell you where I was.’”

His voice was grating. He sounded bored, which was offensive in and of itself. He sounded as though he was discussing the weather, not a murder. Damen glanced over at Jokaste. She, also, looked bored. Her lips were tugged down into a frown as she watched Laurent Revere pace the courtroom and spin his narrative. He might as well have been discussing the weather, as far as she was concerned. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Try and be emotional.” She gave him a studious look as she considered his opinion. Eventually, she leaned over and grabbed a tissue, and pretended to dab her eyes and wipe her nose. This was going to be difficult. Extremely difficult.

Jokaste had dug herself into a hole. A deep hole. And getting her out was going to take some serious work, even Damen knew this. Jokaste was accused of murdering an ex-boyfriend while visiting him in Vere. According to Revere’s narrative, Jokaste had planned the murder in advance and even went as far as turning off her cellphone so it wouldn’t track her location and filling up gas cans so she wouldn’t get spotted on any cameras while filling up her tank.

At first, she had denied any involvement in the murder. She had insisted she hadn’t been in Vere for several months. Eventually, when confronted with the evidence, she admitted to being present but claimed she was not the one who killed him. Yet, even Damen knew the evidence was damning.

Revere went on, “She claimed she’d never even shot a gun before. She claimed that someone else had shot the gun. Who? Well, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know who committed the murder. And now, her story has changed once again. Now, it’s not that she wasn’t there. Now, it’s not that it was someone else. Now, she admits it. She’s the one who did it. I ask that you remember this during your final deliberation when you’re marking the guilty verdict. Thank you.”

Laurent went back to his seat, brushing past Damen on the way there. He wrinkled his nose as they made eye contact. Damen wasn’t sure what face he was making, but he was positive it wasn’t good-natured. He took one last sip of water before he stood and went up in front of the jury.

“Jokaste Dimakos killed Adras Leos. The big question is, what could have forced her to do it? To answer that question, we must go back to the beginning.” Damen unwound his narrative for the jury, detailing how Jokaste met her former boyfriend, how she ended up in the job position that led to them being introduced, how she had ended up in Vere in the first place. He detailed the nature of their relationship, and how Jokaste had killed the victim in self defense. He spoke confidently and in fluent Veretian.

“If Jokaste had not made that last minute decision, none of us would be here. If she had not chosen to defend herself, she would not be here. Thank you.”

He stepped down, sitting back beside Jokaste.

Judge Vannes checked her watch. “Alright, we will take a ten-minute recess. Please be back at 1:24. Thank you.”

When the jury was gone, Damen looked over at Laurent Revere. He was glaring over at Damen, with hard eyes and the deepest frown Damen had ever seen.

“Self defense is pretty cheap, don’t you think?”

“Excuse me?” Damen said.

“Do you really think anyone’s going to buy that?”

Damen shook his head. “Just mind your own business and get ready for your first witness. You’re harassing my client.”

Beside him, Damen heard Jokaste scoff. This was going to be a very, very, very long trial.

#mine #capri #captive prince #damen x laurent #damen of akielos #laurent of vere #lamen

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

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Monday 15 August 1836

6 50

12 5

no kiss very fine morning and F64° at 7 ¾ am (vid. line 22 below) -

from 6 to 6 50 pm wrote 3pp. to Lady Stuart to say ‘I am astonished to send you this very worthless letter - but do pray excuse me - I sent you 2 brace of moorgame by this morning’s mail, and directed them to Whitehall - they were quite fresh this morning, will be in London very early tomorrow and ought to be at the Lodge in time for your dinner - I wish I could think of anything you would like - you do not know the pleasure it would give me - it quite grieves me when you fancy you can be a trouble to all, or to any of your friends - I am sure everybody is delighted to do anything in the world for you - I only wish I was nearer to you - I hope you enjoy yourself in your pretty garden, and that you will gain a little strength by and by - I think you very often, and am always, my dearest Lady Stuart, very affectionately yours A. Lister’ - the 2 preceding pp. thanks for her note last night - the weather with us now ‘so hot, and close and relaxing, almost everybody is suffering more or less - I have had several of my workmen laid up - my aunt however is perhaps better rather than worse - when I shall be able to get off from here I cannot yet tell - my domestic troubles are not at an end, tho’ I hope they are progressing rapidly towards it - Lady Stuart de R- thinks, I had better not take a housekeeper by proxy - the thought is a wise one - I look forward with great pleasure to seeing you - I fear however it will be so long delayed, that you will have left the Lodge for the winter - you shall have the earliest notice of my movements, that I can give you - In fact, you are always the first to hear all about my plans - suppose dear Vere has not yet got the event over - mention having heard from her on Thursday but do not mention what about - had just written so far and put my letter into the bag at 7 ¼ to ‘the Honourable Lady Stuart, Richmond Park, Surrey’ out at 8 this morning - 1 of Mr. Hoylands’ painters here all the day painting the parlour for my aunt - the painters have always drinkings and dinner in the house - said (told the man myself) old Jerry the painter might always go on in the same way, but no other painter - no workmen even to have beer - with Robert Mann + Wood and Matthew and Sam and Jack till breakfast at 9 - Robert at the traverses up the high embankment near (not far from) the rocks - and the other 4 laying the run to finish the embankment against the low fish-pond - A- said her vocabulary this morning but did not read French - so out at 9 40 - 2 of Mr. George Robinson’s men came to say his dam had burst, and to beg me to let him have my men - Wood, Matthew and Sam, went to him at 9 ¾ - Robert had a justice business and had taken Jack with him - both to be here in the afternoon - went I suppose to GR-‘s dam for they were not here - about with Booth and his 2 masons till off with A- at 11 ½ and we walked to Hilltop and had Booth there - I would not like the plan of building a new house against the end of widow Drake’s house - but told B- to calculate for new house in the place of the 3 old cottages and new barn - and the worth of old materials - he said £50 old materials + £250 - it happened to be exactly my own calculation - ½ hour at Cliff hill till 1 ¾ - returned by A-s’ water-seeking pit in the tanhouse land to get water for the Travellers’ Inn and cottages - water found - returned by Lower brea and the walk - sat a minute or 2 in the hut - home and put A- (tired) to bed and I out again at 2 50 - with Booth - at the Lodge - the plasterers there - with the painter set Robert Schofield and Joseph Sharpe to take out some more stuff for the west tower buttress, and came in at 5 - heated and sleepy - crept into the north chamber, locked the door, and threw myself on the bed, and slept or dozed an hour - then vid. line 2 of the last p. wrote to Lady S- dinner at 7 - coffee - A- read her French as usual - a brace of moorgame for dinner today and ate a plate gooseberries at dessert as I have done these last 4 or 5 days - sent 2 brace by the new mail to ‘the Honourable Lady Stuart Whitehall London 15 August per mail carriage paid’ and sent at the same time 2 brace to ‘William Duffin Esquire, Micklegate, York 15 August per mail carriage paid’ and at the bottom of the direction card ‘see the other side’ and wrote on the other side - 4 brace of moorgame - ‘if the Miss Norcliffes are at home 2 brace for them - if not, the 4 brace for Mr. and Mrs. Duffin’ - letter tonight 3pp. and ends from M- Lawton - Grantham says a sovereign would only pay about ½ Rawlinson’s expense here - that he would lose time ( 2 ½ days) and money if he did not get the place - he is at present a market gardener - wants an immediate answer in order to settle about his winter crops - M- has no personal knowledge of him or his wife - but the gardener at Rhode Hall gives him a good character - so does the man’s uncle the head gardener at Crowe M- thinks the Scotchman may be more experienced and being unmarried would be more easily got rid of if he did not suit us - M-‘s journey to Wiesbaden given up - her sister Ann has been again dangerously ill - inflammation on the chest - Mrs. Belcombe harassed- M- has promised to go and see her before Xmas - ‘I sometimes think I shall muster courage enough to make you a morning call. I should like to see the old place once more, from your account you must be making great alterations, all which I am sure will be great improvements - well! after all, my Fred, you have much to thank me for - I hope we shall not cease to love each other in this world, I will try to deserve to meet you in the next when we last parted you promised if I was in danger you would come to me, does the feeling which prompted the assurance, still live?’ - with my aunt from 9 ¾ to 10 ¼ - then at my desk and wrote the last 13 ½ lines of the last p. and so far of this - very fine day - hot - F56° now at 10 50 pm

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trashytoastboi · 4 years

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I really love the person who start asking for whitebeard and then others start doing it. They have my heart ahhash. I will leave a request here: Sanji, Shanks and Whitebeard. Scenarios ; They are trying to get your attention in the middle of a fight. In a flirtatious way. Thank hoy vere much for your work, is amazing ❤.

Heyya!🍀 thank you so much🙈 sorry for the long wait on this and hope I did your request justice~

(Gender Neutral)

Short Scenarios: Sanji, Shanks, Whitebeard – Trying to get {Name’s} attention in the middle of a fight in a flirtatious way.

Total Word Count: 722 words

🍽Sanji🍽

Word Count: 259 words

Sanji skilfully dodged another hit from {Name}, who never let up for a moment. Deciding to keep up their barrage, and with Sanji moving without being hit a single time only served to frustrate {Name} more that they had previously been. “Are you looking down on me?” They ask, annoyed distinctly by the fact that Sanji had only been dodging, and not once did he fight back. Opting to keep his hands in his pockets the entire time, he moves swiftly out of their range once again and to {Name’s} surprise the distance Sanji just created was closed in an instance when he got close to {Name}. His hands leave his pockets and they prepare themselves for an attack, only to notice that between his fingers Sanji was holding a flower…and presenting it to them. “You see, I’m more of a lover than a fighter, my hands are strictly for cooking and other things of course. I will never use them for fighting.”

{Name} is halted, taken aback by the gesture. Not sure whether they should continue to attack him or accept the flower that Sanji presented to them.

{Name} sighs, “You haven’t been fighting me seriously at all and then you pull out a flower. Is this a joke to you?” Sanji smiles, coming closer to {Name} “Not at all.”

He leans in to whisper something to them “I’m giving it to you because I’d rather love you than fight with you.” {Name} stumbles back, extremely flustered by his words and not entirely sure how to process it.

☠Shanks☠

Word Count: 239 words

“Not again!” {Name} griped, as they noticed themselves being swept up into Shanks’s speed, the fight turned instantly and was following whatever he wanted. Was one even able to call it a fight? Shanks simply deflected {Name’s} every attack, and when they did get close he would pull them even closer and it looked as if they were dancing. Shanks continued to mislead them, occasionally pulling them in for a step or two. {Name} was growing frustrated, they gritted their teeth. Looking up at his smile, mustering a charismatic charm he spoke “I promise it is not to humiliate or demean in any way, I simply don’t want to fight someone I’ve taken such a liking to.”

{Name} chuckled “You have an unusual way of showing it.” Shanks wraps an arm around their waist and pulls them in close against his body as he smiles “Do I now?”

Shanks places a sneaky peck on their cheek as {Name} pushes him away. “What do you say {Name}? Want to go for a drink?”

{Name} sighs and realizes how infuriating he is to deal with… “Knock me down and I’ll consider it” they reply with a smirk, before they can even process what’s happened, {Name} can see the sky and Shanks smiling above them with his hand out.

“About that drink?” he smiles, “Ah, alright you got me.” {Name} states, knowing that it truly would be easier to agree with him.

🎅Whitebeard (Edward Newgate)🎅

Word Count: 224 words

This situation certainly got out of hand, {Name} was currently fighting against Whitebeard, the strongest pirate… It was simply out of fascination, a question. “How strong are you?” “How strong am I?” questions such as those gave {Name} the courage to challenge him to a friendly fight. Whitebeard usually would turn it down the instant the challenge was offered, but he couldn’t say no to {Name} and felt the need to oblige their wishes.

“And then brat? You need a few more years before you can challenge me again.” Whitebeard’s voice bellows as {Name} goes for another hit, successfully landing one on him, they are grabbed by his hand. The hit did not affect him in the slightest, nor did he even flinch. He allowed them to get closer so Whitebeard could get a closer look at {Name}. “I admire young’uns like it, it’s refreshing” Whitebeard states before gently setting {Name} down.

Whitebeard takes a seat and consequently ends the fight, leaving {Name} in disbelief. “Um…the f-fight?”

Whitebeard smiles “It’s over, I’ll let you have it”

“Why, you’re clearly the winner!” {Name} insists.

“I’m being nice since I’ve taken a shine to you. Enjoy it brat. Besides, I would rather flirt over a drink than in a fight.” Whitebeard pats {Name} on the back with a bout of laughter after seeing their flustered face.

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shredsandpatches · 3 years

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WIP Guessing Game: tile, gesture, elsewhere

Going with the novelthing for this one, since it's what I've been working the most on:

"Tile" doesn't appear in it at all, despite the presence of Wat Tyler! In my defense, I will point out that there is certainly debate among scholars as to the question of whether he was actually a tiler and his surname was occupational, or whether it was just inherited (as apparently-occupational surnames could be at this point in history: Geoffrey Chaucer was the son of a vintner but has a surname that suggests shoe or hose production). Some of the chronicles spell it "Tegheler." Now, it could well have been an occupational name, of course; Maidstone in Kent was a major center of tile production. In any case my version of him hasn't mentioned anything about his profession, though he has mentioned fighting in the war in France.

I'm gonna do the gesture one behind a cut and put "elsewhere" in the reblog because it's a long novel with a lot of words and apparently my characters wave their hands around a lot.

"Gesture":

Arundel quickly bows his head, the safest gesture of obeisance he can make without dropping his king.

He thinks of the automaton in the shape of a golden angel that had presented him with a crown during his procession yesterday: he feels like he has become an automaton himself, nodding to people and making benign gestures.

He gestures to the servants at the edge of the room who are busily preparing the boutehors (sweet spices, and more comfits; the Richard of days past, who had been able to think of food without dread, would have been excited about the comfits).

“And yet those men—” he gestures toward the royal party— “have everything, while the great majority of men and women—” and now he gestures toward the massed commons that surround them— “have little, or nothing.”

He and Ball exchange a glance; Ball shakes his head in a tight little gesture, and after another moment Straw nods.

He gestures toward the assembled crowd, those in front of the hospital and those surrounding them in the field.

“We found the arch-traitors, and we did justice. It wasn’t pretty, but neither are the lives of these people.” He gestures again toward the crowd.

Tresilian rests a hand on Richard’s shoulder, just for a moment, in a gesture that might be a paternal reassurance, but the slight pressure he applies might also be a stern warning: now is not the time for mercy.

Before the doors of the great hall close, he presses his fingers to his lips and then holds them toward Anne in a gesture of benediction.

She gestures toward the door, and Richard lifts his head and blinks at her—he’d been very careful not to bring it up in any way, and apparently Anne can guess what he’s thinking because she adds, “My mother warned me about it. Actually, she said people would probably want to watch, or at least be in the room.”

Anne gestures frantically at the sheets.

He shrugs, but there’s no real insouciance in the gesture, and he presses a hand to his eyes.

He gestures to Mowbray. “Tom and I,” he continues, “we only wanted de Vere out of favor! That’s all it’s ever been!”

He gestures towards the blood-soaked stones. “Get that filth off the floor,” he says.

#the novelthing #richard ii #wip word game #i like this meme because it allows me to show off bits out of context with minimal effort

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inky-duchess · 4 years

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The Villain's Ending: How to Serve Your Villain Their Comeuppance

The Villain is one of the most important characters in your story, the driving force for everything that happens your heroes and your world. The Villain must be dealt with, we can all agree on this one point. The Villain has been tormenting our hero and they must be punished. And not by a falling brick, Dave and Dan. The audience deserves a real ending and your villain must be punished accordingly for their actions.

Punishment fits the crime/ Poetic Justic

The Villain has been cruel, they have done horrible things to our hero. The world decides to get its own back in the most ironic and poetic way possible. These endings are perhaps the most enjoyable to both read and write, they allow both you and the audience to have closure but while making echoes in the story.

Carrie is one of my favourite novels. Carrie has been pushed far past breaking point by the conclusion of her story, she has been bullied, humiliated and betrayed. Every character who has ever hurt Carrie (either physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually) gets their just desserts. She has been tortured for her strangeness and inability to fit in... and now, her strangeness is what she wields against her villains. She destroys her bullies at the school dance (wiping them put at an event which was meant to be the happiest night of their life), getting rid of Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan, the puppeteers of her humiliation (using Chris and Billy's status symbol [the car] against them and taking control of it away from them to hurt them with it) and good ol' Mama Margaret White dies at her daughter's hands, slowing her heartbeat with her TK (Margaret is punished by her own daughter, her life taken by the gene she passed to her own daughter and via the symbol of love, a commodity she denied her own child).

Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a beautifully shot film and one of Disney's gems. At the film's climax, Frollo is trying to kill Esmeralda and Quasimodo atop the apex of Notre Dame. Frollo has a sword in his hand and seems to be winning, raising his sword to smite Esmeralda as she tries to help Quasimodo, reciting "And He shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!" But he has weakened the stone gargoyle he stands on and his movements cause him to fall and cling to the gargoyle as it cracks, its eyes glowing with sudden divine rage. Frollo falls backwards into the fiery blaze of Paris to his death. Justice is served.

In Game of Thrones/ASOIAF, we see this in spades. Ramsay Snow has hunted down young women in the woods with his hounds, tormented Theon Greyjoy into madness, had his stepmother and half brother fed to his hounds only minutes after the boy is born, killed his father (though this is a service to society), might have killed his own elder half brother, burned Winterfell, raped Jeyne/Sansa and being a pretty bad human being. In the show, Ramsay is fed to his own dogs while Sansa watches. Tywin Lannister has also been a terrible human being: having his son's wife raped while he watches, arranging the Red Wedding, allowing Cersei to set Tyrion up for murder, punishing Alayaya, his actions against the Reynes and Tarbecks, his terrible parenting and his general evilness. He is shot while taking a dump by Tyrion, the child he disparaged most in a rather inglorious fashion. Tywin dies leaving his dreams of dynasty to crumble, his unsavory relationship with Shae to be uncovered and humiliated after his death. The Seven were truly good that day. And not to mention Walder Frey, being served his own dead sons in a pie and killed by the daughter and sister of the woman he had slain in the very room he sits in. You can see the confusion and fear in his face as he tries to work out why this is happening, mirroring Catelyn and Robb's own horror and fear. Arya cuts his throat, echoing her mother's death.

In Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, we are introduced to the hunter Ken Wheatley. He hunts the dinosaurs, helping the main villain in rounding them up. He has a habit of collecting the teeth of the animals he hunts. He pulls out a Stegosaurus's tooth, relishing in the prize without caring for the creature's fear and pain. Wheatley tries to do the same with the Indoraptor, thinking the beast has been tranquilized but Indy was just playing. The Indoraptor bites his arm off as he tries to pull her tooth, killing him in gory glorious fashion. Indy was a very good and clever girl.

Book Ends

The Villain sometimes is treated to a walk down memory lane in their final moments. The beginning of their story is echoed in their final moments, bringing the circle to a finish and creating a nice clean break. The end feels earned in these circumstances, rounding off the arc nicely.

In Harry Potter, Voldemort fears death. He has done all he has done for his preservation and longevity. Voldemort faces off Harry in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, one on one as it had been when Voldemort stood in Harry's bedroom in Godric's Hollow. As before, the action that begun the tale ends it for Voldemort. He fires the Killing Curse at Harry and it gets turned on him. Voldemort dies simply, with no thunderous drama. He gets both his worst fears wrapped up in some poetic justice. The circle is complete.

Arya Stark faces all kinds of villains in her trek across the riverlands in A Clash of Kings. She and her gang of misfits (Gendry, Hotpie and an injured Lommy) are cornered by Lannister soldiers. The soldiers gather the gang to send them to Harrenhal. Raff the Sweetling, one of the soldiers asks Lommy "Is there something wrong with your leg, boy?" And Lommy replies, that yes he is hurt and he has to be carried. Raff stabs the boy through the throat and jokingly repeats Lommy's request. Arya encounters him again in Braavos in the Mercy Chapter of Winds of Winter. She stabs him in the thigh and feigns worry for his condition, asking him whether she should help him to the physician. Instead, Arya stabs him in the throat. The circle is complete.

Though Braveheart is a rather mixed bag of tricks, it does get this echo right. Muireann has her throat cut for both marrying without the Lord's permission and attacking the English soldier who tried to rape her. Enter William Wallace who takes on the garrison and raises the village to utterly destroy the soldiers. He marches into the Lord's fort (the place he felt safest in as Muireann did in her village and metaphorically in her marriage to Wallace) and drags the fucker to the same post he executed Muireann at, cutting the Lord's throat. The circle is complete.

In Captive Prince, the whole conflict of the series kicks off at Marlas where Damen kills the Veretian Prince in battle, brother to Prince Laurent. Kastor has taken his brother Damen's throne and forced him into slavery. Damen's opening chapter has him being readied for his ordeals in the slave's baths before being sent off to Vere to serve Laurent. Fast forward to our ending and Damen has come home for his throne. He confronts Kastor in the slave baths where Kastor tries to kill him. Laurent steps in and delivers a killing blow, killing Damen's brother as Damen killed his. Two circles are fulfilled.

In The Heroes of Olympus: The Blood of Olympus, Gaia has begun to destroy Camp Half Blood, levelling the forces of the gods and demigods. Gaia began the first first cycle of the PJO Universe by having her husband, Ouranos/Uranus killed. Gaia had Ouranos come down from his domain the sky, away from his source of power. She had him ambushed and killed, her son Kronos, the original antagonist do the deed. We fast forward to the present and Kronos has been taken down by Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter. Gaia is mad af and rises to take out the heroes. In the end, Gaia's fate is that of Ouranos, driven from her point of power, the earth and destroyed. The bookends are a couple of millennia apart but the circle is complete.

There is always somebody else.

The Villain and hero are mortal enemies. The Hero has suffered at the Villain's hand for the length of the story, battling them in tests of strength, power and wills. The Hero must over come the Villain... or do they? The Villain must be beaten, that is a fact or else the story has no purpose or no meaning. One must triumph over the other. But there is no written rule that states that it must be the protagonist who must deal the blow and here is where justice can be done for even the most minor character.

The Captive Prince series has this ending in spades. Throughout the story we are pelted with the Regent's evil actions: Hurting Erasmus, killing Laurent's horse, setting his own nephew up to be sexually assaulted and murdered at the hands of the man who killed his brother, constantly being creepy, keeping children as pets, taunting Laurent about abusing him, killing his own brother the King, ordering the death of Pashcal's brother who knew the Regent ordered the King's death, of the killing Nicaise, corrupting Aimeric and his takeover of the Kingdoms of Vere and Akielon. We spend the story waiting for his downfall, waiting for Laurent or Damen to strike the blow. But it isn't them. Instead, the Regent seems to have won, trapping both heroes. Then comes the justice. The truth comes to light. Aimeric's mother testifies against the Regent. Evidence gathered by Nicaise and Pashcal's testimony of his brother's actions both prove to be a nail in the Regent's coffin. In the end, it is the ghosts of three of the Regent's victims who beat him and drive his supporters to abandon him. The victims get the revenge, not just the heroes. It isn't an empty victory for them.

In Outlander, Claire is kidnapped and subjected to torture and abuse at the hands of Lionel and his men. He broke into her home, snatched her, beat Marsali and tortured her. When Claire is rescued by the men of the Ridge, Jamie asks her which men attacked her but she cannot recall so he has them all killed excepting Lionel that is. He is kept because of his value to his brother and Claire's belief that a patient shouldn't be harmed by the doctor. Enter Marsali. She has hurt in the kidnapping and had to watch the strongest woman she has ever known subjected to horrors. She understands Claire will not take revenge because of her Hippocratic oath but she swore no such vow. Even the speech, is striking reminding us that Claire is not just the only one has hurt. "I've been learning the art of healing. Mistress Fraser taught me well. She took an oath to do no harm... I have taken no such oath. You hurt me, you hurt my family, you hurt my ma. I will watch you burn in hell before I let you harm another soul in this house..." Also, she kills him with a syringe which is a nod to his destruction of the one at the battle with the regulators. I for one hope it hurt.

In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, we see this happen a lot. Neville takes out the sword of Gryffindor and fucking charges at Nagini, a piece of Voldemort, avenging his parents' torture and his own brutal treatment in his final year. Bellatrix has killed Sirius and Dobby, both two characters very dear to Harry and his friends. They do not get to bring her down. It is Molly Weasley who gets to do it, a mother who has lost her brother, her son and almost her world to the ideals of Bellatrix. She fucking snaps and we cheered her on.

In the Lion King, we watch waiting for Scar to get his comeuppance after he pushes his brother off a cliff, chases away his nephew and destroys the pride lands. Though Simba fights a good fight, he gets a case of Hero-itus and decides not to kill his uncle (it is a Disney movie after all) but events transpire and then Scar is trapped with the hyenas, the same hyenas he just tried to throw under the bus only a few seconds before this.

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ladiesoftheages · 4 years

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On my lord of Norfolk and the King's Council departing from the Tower, I went before the Queen into her lodging. She said unto me, "Mr. Kingston, shall I go into a dungeon?" I said, "No, Madam. You shall go into the lodging you lay in at your coronation." "It is too g[ood] for me, she said; Jesu have mercy on me;" and kneeled down, weeping a [good] pace, and in the same sorrow fell into a great laughing, as she has done many times since. "She desyred me to move the Kynges hynes that she [might] have the sacarment in the closet by hyr chamber, that she my[ght pray] for mercy, for I am as clere from the company of man as for s[in as I] am clear from you, and am the Kynges trew wedded wyf. And then s[he said], Mr. Kynston, do you know wher for I am here? and I sayd, Nay. And th[en she asked me], When saw you the Kynge? and I sayd I saw hym not syns I saw [him in] the Tylte Yerde. And then, Mr. K., I pray you to telle me wher my [Lord, my fa]der, ys? And I told hyr I saw hym afore dyner in the Cort. O[where is m]y sweet broder? I sayd I left hym at York Place; and so I dyd. I [hear say, sai]d she, that I shuld be accused with iij. men; and I can say [no more but] nay, withyowt I shuld oppen my body. And ther with opynd her gown. O, No[res], hast thow accused me? Thow ar in the Towre with me, [and thow and I shall] dy together; and, Marke, thow art here to. O, my mother, [thou wilt die with] sorow; and myche lamented my lady of Worceter, for by c[ause that her child di]d not store in hyre body. And my wyf sayd, what shuld [be the cause? And she sai]d, for the sorow she toke for me. And then she sayd, Mr. [Kyngston, shall I die with]yowt justes? And I sayd, the porest sugett the Ky[ng hath, hath justice. And t]her with she lawed. Alle thys sayinges was yesterny[ght] . . . . . . . . . . and thys mornyng dyd talke with Mestrys Co[fyn. (fn. 4) And she said, Mr. Norr]es dyd say on Sunday last unto the Quenes am[ner that he would s]vere for the Quene that she was a gud woman. [And then said Mrs.] Cofyn, Madam, Why shuld ther be hony seche maters [spoken of? Marry,] sayd she, I bad hym do so: for I asked hym why he [did not go through with] hys maryage, and he made ansure he wold tary [a time. Then I said, Y]ou loke for ded men's showys, for yf owth ca[m to the King but good], you would loke to have me. And he sayd yf he [should have any such thought] he wold hys hed war of. And then she sayd [she could undo him if she wou]ld; and ther with thay felle yowt, bot. . . . . . . . . . . . . . and sayd on Wysson Twysday (fn. 5) last . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . that Nores cam more . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . age and further * * * "Wher I was commaunded to charge the gentelwomen that gyfes thayr atendans apon the Quene, that ys to say thay shuld have now (i.e., no) commynycasion with hyr in lese my wyf ware present; and so I dyd hit, notwithstandynge it canot be so, for my lady Bolen and Mestrys Cofyn lyes on the Quenes palet, and I and my wyf at the dore with yowt, so at thay must nedes talke at be within; (fn. 6) bot I have every thynge told me by Mestrys Cofyn that she thinkes met for you (fn. 7) to know, and tother ij. gentelweymen lyes withyowt me, and as I may knowe t[he] Kynges plesure in the premysses I shalle folow. From the Towre, thys morny[ng]. "Sir, syns the makynge of thys letter the Quene spake of Wes[ton, saying that she] had spoke to hym bycause he did love hyr kynswoman [Mrs. Skelton, and] sayd he loved not hys wyf, and he made ansere to hyr [again that h]e loved wone in hyr howse

A letter from William Kingston to Thomas Cromwell, 3 May 1536 (via British History Online, The Letters and Papers of Henry VIII May 1-10)

#anne boleyn #william kingston #quotes #tudor history

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eve-of-halloween · 4 years

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So I might be a little late to this. But how did Deadstick die? Not sure if you answered or explained this so if you did, sorry for repeating the question.

I have answered what happened to Deadstick before! He died during the triple changer program. But since so many people have respectively asked what happened i’ll show y’all through a little story blurb of what happened that awful day.

Warning don't read if death, especially of a young character bothers you. There is nothing graphic at all in this story, but i will give a warning.

Story and art of what happened to Deadstick and Blitzy below the cut!

The halls were eerily quiet as Blitzwing stared at the medbay doors. He and his younger brother, Deadstick, had been transported from their settlement to this rickety ship for what Megatron had told them would be for a greater purpose. Blitzwing was finally going to be able to get revenge for his carrier, he’d be strong enough to kill the bot that took him away. He was nervous about what may lay ahead but he couldn't let it show, he had to be strong, he had to do it for his carrier. Unfortunately, his younger sibling didn’t appear to share his conviction.

The scrawny mechling didn’t shut up about how nervous he was feeling the entire trip, and Blitzwing's patience was wearing thin. Deadstick was sat next to his older sibling with his body tucked in making himself look even smaller than he was to begin with. The young bot was shaking so violently that his armor clattered, him being so much smaller than his older brother, tried to scoot closer for some form of comfort. He didn’t feel safe here, but his big brother could help him feel safe, but every time Deadstick got closer, Blitzy scooted further away. “Stop being so clingy, Deadstick. Jour nearly a mechling, stop acting like a bitlet.” Blitzwing growled with a heavy frown.

“S-sorry.” Deadstick whimpered as he pulled away and curled into himself even more. So much for receiving comfort from his brother, “I’m j-just scared.”

“Zhat’s not my problem. Stop being veak und act like a mech.”

The boy’s sat in silence as they watched more young bots be called into the medbay in front of them. Every single bot in the waiting area was barely older than a bitlet, in fact, Blitzwing appeared to be the oldest of the children there. Deadstick watched as more bots went in but grew more and more fearful as none came back out.

“H-hey Blitzving?” He said, finally turning his helm to look over at his brother.

“Vhat?” He grumbled without taking his optics off the door.

“Don’t jou zhink it’s weird z-zat no ones come back out jet?”

“Do jou expect a bot to just valk out five minutes after major frame augmentation? Jour supposed to be smart for jour age, jet jou just asked a pretty stupid question.”

“Zat vas mean...” Deadstick frowned. “I dont care. Jou’ve been acting like a sparkling all cycle.” “Vhy? Cause i’m sc-scared? Carrier always said it’s ok to be scared.” Deadstick watched as the scowl on his brothers face grew, but it didn’t stop the young bitlet from continuing, “H-how are jou not scared, zhe medics said ve could easily offline!” “Jou are insufferable! Do jou forget ve are here so ve can get justice for him?” Blitzwing barked, “I von’t show fear or weakness because I vant to see zhe autobot who killed our carrier dead! If jou cared about our carrier jou’d be strong for him!” “I loved our carrier!” “Zhen act like it und shut up!” The volume of Blitzwing’s voice made deadstick flinch. “J-just because I am scared doesn’t mean I don’t vant justice for our carrier. I...I’m not as strong as jou are Blitzving, zhe medics even said I vas too little to be a good candidate for zhe triple changer program.”

“Frag zhe medics vhat do zhey know? Primus I hate how veak und pazetic jou act! Zhe only reason I’ve put up vith it is because I promised carrier i’d look out for jou. Frag even sire left us because jou vere weak. Carrier vould be ashamed!” “Z-Zhats not true!” Deadstick barked back as his optics began to flood with coolant. He hated when Blitzwing got mad, he always directed it at him, “S-sire vas mourning und she couldn’t keep us because of her grief! Und carrier vould never hate us or be ashamed of us for being scared.”

“How vould jou know anyzing about carrier, jou barely knew him like i did, jou could barely fly before he vas taken from us. I vant the bot who killed him in cold blood, dead. I hate how I have to keep explaining zhis to jou. Zhis program will make us somezing better, so zhat innocent decepticons no longer have to die to zhose filzy oppressive autobots.”

“B-Blitzy...h-he vas my carrier t-too.” Blitzwing ceased his ranting as he watched his brother make himself look as small as possible as he curled himself into a corner to hide his crying from his older brother.

“It’s not my fault zhose zings happened Blitzy.” Deadstick whimpered, “I hate it vhen jou get mad, i-it vas just a question.” “Jou hate zhat I get mad, vell I hate being stuck vith a vimpy sparkling!” He barked and sat on the farthest side of the bench from Deadstick. Blitzwing gave a heavy vent and shut his optics as he did his best to ignore the sound of his brother’s crying.

After what felt like groons, Deadstick’s crying quieted to sniffling and hiccups, annoying but far less grating than what it was. Blitzwing felt a bit guilty over unloading his frustration onto his brother like he had, but he was far too angry to admit he was wrong, let alone apologize.

The silence was broken when the medbay doors slid open and two medics walked out, both had come to collect the brothers. Blitzwing said nothing as he stood up and followed the mech, but out of the corner of his optics, he noticed the femme trying to gently coax Deadstick from his corner. The site made Blitzwing roll his eyes as the door shut behind him.

As for the surgery, Blitzwing couldn't say he remembered much, he had walked in, sat on the slab and the next thing he knew some creepy techno-organic femme had her gross servo’s examining him, it made him shiver to see her fidget with his outer frame, mumbling things about the density of his frame, and something about metal quality being better than the bitlet she examined before him. And before he knew it the world had gone black.

When Blitzwing woke up all he could feel was pain. His body felt like it was both freezing, yet on fire, and his helm was killing him. He let out a gargled groan as he opened his optics to harsh white lights, he tried to sit up but he felt so heavy it took nearly all his strength to manage such a feat, but a voice came from beside him that caught his attention. “Oh! This one is awake, that's a first. Take it easy there, don’t wanna pop a fuse.” The medic said with a fake smile as that techno-organic approached him from the other side and snapped her digits in his face to make him blink. “He seems responsive.” Her voice seemed laced in pride, not towards Blitzwig but more so her own work, “Can you hear us TC-O1?” “My name is Blitzving, Not TC-01.” He responded, but the femme merely rolled her 4 eyes.

“Right. Well welcome to the world of the functional, you are officially the Decepticon rebellion’s first triple changer. Hence the name TC-01, kid.” The femme said with a bit of snark as she lowered a large mirror beside the berth, “Care to take a gander at your new frame?”

Blitzwing was initially taken aback when he first saw himself, he could barely recognize himself. He saw the large pauldrons set on his shoulders, from what he could deduce from their shape he guessed they were rocket housing, commonly seen with war frame flyers. He also noticed his stabilizers had a very strange set of treads, not tire treads, they looked to be like those of a tank, Blitzwing thought it incredibly interesting, especially when he noticed he could move the strange canons sticking out of his back, he couldn’t quite move his wings like he used too, but he assumed he was just stiff from augmentation.

Then he wondered how different Deadstick must have looked.

“If I am TC-O1, zhen is my little brozer TC-02?”

“TC-02?” The bots in the room with him looked at him in confusion, “There is no TC-02.” “Zhen vhat about Deadstick, did he not go zrough with it?” Blitzwing arched an eyebrow and winced from the pain, why did his face hurt? “Oh, you mean that bitlet who came in with you? We tried to tell him he wasn’t a good candidate for this procedure, he was far too small at only 33% growth, unlike you who’s closer to 80% growth. His armor was also far too thin due to his age and poor development in the chamber. He was riddled with coding errors, he never rebooted once we shut him down for the procedure. We pronounced him offline three hours after his operation. That was two days ago.”

The world seemed to stop for Blitzwing. Offline? Did she really say his brother was offline? Blitzwings spark started to race as he started to get worked up.

“Vhat do jou mean he’s offline! Jou killed him?!”

“No. We told him not to have the operation due to being too young and too weak, he insisted on it anyway saying “I don’t want my brother to hate me, I can’t back out now,” So I wouldn’t go blaming us for a choice he made. If it is anyone’s fault it’s yours. You pressured him to join.” The spiderlike femme said in a voice so cold and lacking of empathy that Blitzwing’s anger exploded.

And then there was nothing but searing pain as he heard a strange click, followed by a whirl as the world spun around him, his vision turning red from some sort of vizor that obscured his optics. The mech grabbed his faceplates as he screamed out in pain, the mixture of his emotional pain and physical pain causing him to breakdown into hysterics, the world spun again as he began sobbing with each rotation of his facial plates, pain shot through his circuits. He couldn’t find his balance or his grounding as he fell from the berth, dizzy from both pain and the spinning. The coolant pouring from his optics was flung everywhere as his head continued to spin, over, and over, and over again. He felt sick, sick at himself. His brother was dead and it was all his fault.

It was all his fault.

As the medics tried to restrain him, he lashed out, severing the neck cables of one, before they could pin him down and sedate him. As a numb feeling filled his body the spinning started to slow down and all he could do was whimper over and over to himself-

“I’m sorry, deadstick, I’m so sorry.” And after several moments of his own whimpering, his world went back to black.

#tw death #death #blitzwing #deadstick #tfa blitzwing #tfa deadstick #blitzbee family #my work #my art #my writing #story #deadsticks death #black arachnia #tfa black arachnia #angst #tfa #tfa oc

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