#Was he interning (making copies for her) directly after God Among us?

[crystalromana]

Tyler Steele in Rani Takes on the World has me headscratching timeline wise.

[nanoland]

new chapter (supernatural fic)

(earlier parts are here; whole thing is here) 

Clean Hands, part 3 

Crowley/Castiel/Dean Winchester, warning for violence and spn demons being spn demons   

0   

Another day, another assassination attempt.

“Congratulations, sir,” said Paula, bustling in with his coffee and daily planner. “That brings it to eight, yes? I recall your making some remark about throwing a small office party if we hit ten before the end of the month.”

Lifting the corpse off the row of retractable spikes he’d installed in his desk, Crowley grunted, “It was a joke. On the other hand, maybe it would be good for morale. Make the blighters less determined to snuff me.”

“I’ll add it to the calendar. Sir, your ten ‘o clock is waiting in the lobby. Should I send him in?”

Technically, ‘ten ‘o clock’ didn’t exist in Hell. Time didn’t exist in Hell.

But by God, it did for Paula.

Infamous among Crowley’s minions, she ruled his appointment diary with an iron fist (well – iron talons, more accurately) and kept a horseman’s pick tucked neatly under her workstation for anyone who was more than five minutes late.

She’d been the most competent corporate PA in the business when Crowley had purchased her soul in exchange for a medical breakthrough that had beaten down her cancer and allowed her those ten precious years. It would, in fact, have allowed her a normal human lifespan, if not for Crowley’s hounds.

(Her wish was among his favourites and her contract had pride of place in his trophy cabinet. She could have just said ‘cure me’; she’d dreamed bigger. Ambition! Now that was what Crowley liked to see. Very few people who sold their souls managed to leave the world a better place than they’d found it.

Truthfully, arranging the breakthrough had taken an amount of power on his part that, ordinarily, he’d have objected to. Ever since the Zuckerberg Incident of 2004, Crowley had maintained a policy against granting wishes that fundamentally altered the pace and trajectory of human scientific development. But he’d wanted her. Reliable PAs were like gold dust and they almost always went to bloody Heaven. “And for what, I ask you?” he’d said to Dean once. “How much admin is really involved in keeping people locked in a lotus-eater machine?”)  

“The ten… oh, piss. It’s Alan, isn’t it? Yes, yes. Let’s get this over with. Send him in.”  

Another day, another fucking workplace harassment mess to sort out. How many more sodding seminars was he going to have to host before they all got it through their heads that biting off a co-worker’s arm was not a viable long-term conflict resolution strategy?

Sigh.

It was only after four meetings and sixteen calls that Crowley remembered he’d not yet disposed of the assassin.

“I suppose I should make an example of you,” he huffed, already imagining it.

The hassle.

The bother.

Getting an apron on.

Finding the hammer.

Lugging the stupid bastard up a ladder and nailing him to the office noticeboard by his scrote.

He could always ask Paula to do it. But, bless her heart, she’d only been a demon for six years and arranging a corpse for maximum intimidation was just as much a matter of practice as talent.

As Crowley was fetching the ladder, Gwen from Legal arrived whey-faced and dogged by two dozen assistants and interns.

“Sir, it’s a catastrophe,” she wailed.

Five minutes later, Crowley was back at his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Avoidable. Utterly, pathetically avoidable. All you had to do was amend the contract to state that the phrase ‘ten years’ refers solely and specifically to Earth’s orbital period, not the orbital period of the contractee.”

Gwen hung her head. “I don’t know what to tell you, sir. Finding qualified staff to manage this sort of deal is tricky. When people with, you know, science degrees and stuff die and are damned, the assholes over at the Experimental Punishments Department always snatch ‘em up first. It’s a real problem.”

“I’ll have a word with them. Ugh – alright, alright, let’s try and sort this out. How long is a Martian year?”

“The internet says six hundred and eighty-seven days.”

“Damn. Almost twice as long,” Crowley grumbled, pouring himself a drink. “What did he even want from us? He’s a billionaire. The list of things they can’t get without our help grows shorter by the day.”

“He wanted to guarantee that he’d be the first man on Mars, sir; that none of his competitors would get there before he did.”

“Wait. Hold on. The thing he wished for and the mechanism by which he’s attempting to fuck us over are one and the same? Oh, no, no, no. I’m not going to take that cheeky bollocks lying down. Get the head of Research and Development in here, now. We’re going to find out how to crash a spaceship.”

Gwen’s gaze flickered to the assassin’s corpse. “Um.”

“Fuck,” Crowley muttered.

At which point Paula tapped on the door to ask if he wanted to reschedule his next five meetings, because unless he could deal with them all in a grand total of twelve minutes, he’d be late for his call with the NRA’s chairman.

When Castiel arrived – without an appointment, as per usual, but Paula had standing instructions to let him through – he found Crowley resting his head on his desk, fantasising about being a paperweight.

“I’ve come for more sex,” he explained.

Dragging himself from despair’s depths, Crowley slurred, “T’riffic.”

He instructed his meat suit to sit up and turn on the winning smile. Unlike more reliable vehicles, possessed bodies didn’t have dashboard lights to indicate an exhausted battery; instead, it announced its displeasure by growing three new tumours.

Castiel stepped back, confused. Displeased. “You’re usually more enthusiastic than this. Why is your desk covered in diagrams of rockets? Is this a ‘new hobby’?”

Exaggerated finger quotes. Damn him to the pit, he was precious.

“Kitten, rest assured I have only two hobbies and they both dress badly.”

He expected retaliation for that. Castiel hated being reminded that Crowley regularly dallied with his favourite human. It came as a surprise, then, when the angel simply reached out and firmly gripped his shoulder, declaring, “You need to rest.”

Wings flapped. Suddenly, Crowley was standing in front of a wide, glassy lake, surrounded by dense forest, and in the distance…

“Is that Mount Fuji?”

“Indeed,” said Castiel, smiling briefly. “She’s a childhood friend. I first visited when she was little more than an unusually picturesque bump in the ground.”  

There was no one around. There was nothing around. No boats on the lake, no fishermen, no families on holiday, not even the distant roar of traffic. Just them, the view, the water, and a – huh – a bright orange tent pitched nearby.

“This is where I come to relax,” Castiel informed him, opening up the zipper.

“Whose is it?”

“Mine.”

“Huh. I wasn’t aware that you…”

“That I what?”

“Owned things. Or even grasped the concept of owning things. Don’t give me that look; you’re the one who’s worn the same socks ever since you slipped into that God-bothering flesh puppet.”

Castiel sniffed. “Materialism is a disease. But I’m not a child, Crowley. For your information, in my time on Earth I have owned many things.”

Always fun to ruffle the pretty bird’s feathers. “Yeah? How many of them were hand-me-downs from the Hardy Boys?”

“Most of them,” he said, levelly. “With the exception of this tent and your ass, demon.”

A pin drop pause.

Castiel maintained unblinking eye contact for exactly twelve seconds, then turned and crawled into his neon den.

Practically vibrating with adoration, Crowley followed.

It was evident that Castiel, despite his laudable efforts to create a space for himself in a world that had no space for him, didn’t entirely grok camping.

There were no sleeping bags. Instead, the tent’s bottom was covered in duvets, dozens of them, soft and fresh as if they’d come directly from the shop – or, more accurately, Crowley suspected, someone’s washing line.

“I cured her dog’s foot infection,” Castiel said, somewhat defensively, settling into his cotton and fleece nest.

“Ah. And she was so grateful she said you could make off with all her laundry, hm?”

“She… did not say those words, precisely. But it was heavily implied.”

Thank sin this was only a meat suit. Thank sin, thank everything that Castiel couldn’t see the expression of hopeless, pitiable fondness that would have adorned Crowley’s true face at that moment.

It was a relief when Castiel, without further ado, started undressing. Crowley, copying him, took the opportunity to talk sense into himself.

Come on. Grow up. Get it together. You know what you are. More importantly, you know what he is. Ageless. Unfathomable. Demons, at the end of the day, are just distilled human nastiness, but him? He existed before humans. Before microbes. He’s nice to babies and bees and pot plants and Dean and that makes it easy to forget that… that…

Oh, yes. Remember when he came to Hell? The first time he saw Dean; the start of their epic, eternal, infuriating romance? And where were you? That’s right. You were with the others, standing there slack-jawed and helpless, like dinosaurs watching the comet hit. Like children gazing up at a mushroom cloud.

Twelve thousand. That’s how many demons he burned out of existence, without even trying. Twelve thousand.

Do you think he ever thinks about them? Do you think he even noticed?

Twelve thousand.

Do you think he knows how close you were to being one of them?

Do you think he cares?

He’s nice to babies. Bees. Pot plants. Dean. You, even, sometimes. He’s sweet. He’s got big, soft blue eyes and hair that aches to be tussled. He’s a top-tier, world-class fuck. And at any moment, for any reason, he could end you, easy as blowing away dust, and you can’t say for certain he would even remember your name in a month’s time.

“What? No,” Castiel protested when Crowley kissed him. “We’re here to rest, Crowley.”

Drawing back, Crowley leered. “That’s what you want to do, is it? Rest?”

Perpetually thirsty tart that he was, Castiel bit his lip and looked torn. “I… yes.”

Crowley pouted.

Firmer now, Castiel said, “We will rest for a while first. Then we will have sex. Is that satisfactory?”

No sooner had Crowley resignedly nodded than Castiel seized him and finished undressing him, tossing his undershirt and socks out the tent. When they were both naked, the cold air coming off the lake making Crowley shiver, Castiel burrowed into his pilfered pile and dragged the demon down with him.

“Rest first,” he ordered him. “Sex afterwards. No, no – stop that. Afterwards, I said.”

Crowley groaned and whined and fussed, but obeyed.  

And bugger him gently if it wasn’t actually pleasant, very pleasant, to lie there with Castiel’s strong arms locked around his torso, toasty warm under layers of wool while, outside, the lake lapped at its bank and wind rustled through the trees. No assassins. No paperwork. No blood. Everything nice and quiet. Everything calm and clean.

Then Castiel sighed, a hot puff against the back of Crowley’s neck, and said, “You know, the thing that vexes me most about Dean is the way he…”

[helenarlett-rex]

Goosebumps Review #6

Oh my god… I may not have found a new favorite Goosebumps, but I have definitely just added this one to the upper half of my top 10 list.

Moving on with my little project of reading all the Goosebumps I never got the chance to read as a kid…

(Spoilers)

I Live In Your Basement!

Goosebumps (original series) #61

This was the 2nd to the last book in the original series. The last Goosebumps R.L. Stine would write before releasing Monster Blood 4, which was such a crapshot he would have to reinvent himself with the Goosebumps Series 2000 the following year. And it’s a wild one. But in a very good way. This book really screwed with my head. I almost want to compare it to Oculus levels of mind fuckery. I’m also going to say, that as far as Goosebumps goes, this is probably some of the most disturbing imagery I have ever seen in the original series.

The cover is a little misleading, making it look like just another silly monster book of which Stine has given us so many already, but that’s because you don’t understand the context of what you are looking at. That and the cover artist doesn’t even come close to capturing the grotesque horror of what it should actually be.

Now I need to point out again that I’m going to spoil the story here, (in fact I’m going to ramble on a lot on this one) so if you are at all interested in reading the book yourself, please go do that before reading this. Go buy a copy or, if you don’t want to spend money, go to your local library. If they don’t have a copy, ask about Inter Library Loan. You can do that you know... You can ask a library to have a book shipped to them from another library. That’s actually my day job... This is one where you really don’t want spoilers if you are going to read it. If you have no interest in reading a Goosebumps book and just want to hear my review then please continue.

The story revolves around Marco, a young boy who lives with his incredibly overprotective mother. His mother is never named in the book. She is always just called “Mom”, and his father is never mentioned at all. We don’t know if Marco has a father, if he is always away at work, if he is dead, if he ran off after getting Marco’s mom pregnant… it’s just never talked about. And the reason behind all the lack of info on both of his parents won’t make much sense until the end of the book.

Marco’s mom is so overprotective she doesn’t allow him to do anything because he’ll “break every bone in his body” among other excuses. So Marco has to sneak out of the house to go play softball with his friends from school. And that’s when his friend Gwynnie promptly smashes his head in with a baseball bat… on accident mind you…

When Marco comes to he finds himself laying on the couch in his living room with his mom worrying herself into a fit as she fusses over him. Most things are a blur at this point but as he is drifting in and out of consciousness there is a point where he is woken up by the phone ringing and his mom is nowhere to be seen so he answers it. The voice on the other end sounds like a young boy who says, “I hope you’re okay. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Because you’re going to take care of me from now on.” When Marco asks who this is the boy answers that his name is Keith, and when Marco says that he doesn’t know any Keith, Keith replies with, “You should know me, Marco. I live in your basement.”

This understandably freaks him out but his mom thinks he was only dreaming it and chocks it up to the blow to the head, because after all, “Marco, there’s no phone in this room.” As the story goes on Marco continues to hear from Keith either from more phone calls or from Keith talking up to him directly from down the basement stairs. Eventually Keith actually shows up in Marco’s bedroom and he appears to be just a young boy around the same age as Marco, who happens to look just like L from Death Note (judging by the way Stine describes him). But any time Marco tries to prove Keith’s existence to his mom, Keith is always gone. Even when Marco locks Keith in his bedroom he is gone by the time Marco drags his mom up to the room and unlocks the door.

The book was very creepy throughout all of this and did a good job keeping me on edge. But after a while of this Marco’s mom thinks he’s hallucinating and may have brain damage so she takes him back to the doctor, and this is where the book starts to get weird. It’s also where Stine does something hilarious I’ve never seen him do before. The chapter ends with the doctor suggesting that he would like to remove Marco’s brain so he can study it under a microscope to find out what the problem is. I’m sitting there thinking, okay Stine… you are starting the fake-out scares now are you? I’m going to turn to the next page and the chapter is going to start with the doctor laughing and telling Marco it was only a joke. But then I turn to the next page and… it’s not a joke… The doctor is serious. And even more surprising, Marco’s mom is all on board with this idea. I keep reading and waiting for someone to tell him it’s a joke, but they never do. They are seriously considering removing his brain.

Do you see what Stine did there? The fake out was in itself a fake out. He built up my expectations to the point where I believed it was going to be a fake out, and then it wasn’t. The only fake out was the fact that he made it look like it was going to be a fake out. A double fake out. Stine wrote 60 books filled with fake out scares just like that only to finally turn it around and use 60 books worth of expectations against me. This was amazing and it really caught me off guard.

They don’t actually remove Marco’s brain, deciding to wait and think about it for a while, but from that point on the story just kept getting weirder. Such as when he goes to Gwynnie for help and asks her to come with him to explore his basement to try and find Keith (because Gwynnie is the biggest, toughest, meanest girl he knows and Marco couldn’t give a shit about gender role stereotypes at this point). Then they naturally don’t find anything and Gwynnie thinks Marco is just trying to scare her, but she tells him he can’t scare her, and she’ll show him why… Which she does by ripping her mouth open wider than the size of her entire head and vomiting up all her internals until she has turned herself completely inside out and lays on the floor as a bloody, pulsating mess. (Which the book’s cover does a poor job of trying to depict.)

Are you still with me, or have you just spit out whatever you were drinking and shouted “what the fuck?” while scrolling back up to the top to make sure I am indeed still reviewing a Goosebumps book? Because this is the part where Marco wakes up in the hospital only an hour after getting hit in the head and I find myself saying, “Hold on… We are only half way through the book? It’s too soon for the twist ending… If it was all a dream what are all these other pages? I still have half a book to go!”

Well the second half of the book is where the story keeps twisting and turning to the point where I never know what is real and what is a dream. Marco can’t tell either. When he wakes up and finds out that Gwynnie is not his best friend, but is instead his sister, and he was actually hit in the head by his friend Jeremy, he’s unsure if these facts are correct or if the way things were before Gwynnie turned herself inside out was how it was supposed to be. And then naturally, more disturbing stuff keeps happening. Keith keeps contacting him and insisting that Marco is going to take care of him, that doctor keeps changing in appearance every time Marco sees him… Reading the second half of this book you start to fall down the rabbit hole fast and hard. Even when Marco would wake up from something horrible I still couldn’t be sure if that had actually been a dream, or if him waking up was the dream.

I personally suffer from sleep paralysis. I’m no stranger to waking up only to still be in a dream, and then waking up from that to still be in a dream. It’s a terrifying experience. And then when you finally do wake up for real, and you think back on what you just went through, and you can’t be sure it really was a dream, is equally terrifying. And this book captures those feelings quite well. I’m not going to say the book is about sleep paralysis, but as someone who has it, it’s a pretty scary similarity.

But then things lead up to a final confrontation with Keith and after a battle that I wasn’t sure was even happening or not, he wakes up again only to find that he is Keith. He and his mom are both those inside out monsters, and they live in hiding down in Marco and Gwynnie’s basement, and he got smashed in the head by them and this is why his mom keeps warning him that he is a monster and he can’t go play with those humans, as much as he might want to. And we still have a few chapters left to go… Every time I think I finally know what’s going on, I’m still second guessing if it’s real or not.

Even when the book finally ends with Marco discovering Keith in the basement and Keith tells him that he’s only dreaming, I’m still unsure of things. How much of it was actually a dream and how much was real? Who’s dream was it even? Was it  actually Keith’s dream all along, or was it Marco’s dream? Given the way other characters shifted throughout the story, such as Gwynnie starting out as Marco’s best friend and then becoming his sister, it’s not out of the question that Marco may have started to dream that he was Keith. Was Keith ever even real at all? But then it’s also not out of the question that Keith would have been dreaming that he was Marco. And if the mom was actually Keith’s mom and they are the only two monsters living down there, and he carried her over into being his mom when he was dreaming he was Marco, then it would explain why Marco’s father was never mentioned. It’s all just very twisty and turny and I still don’t know what’s what… and I rather loved it.

[akaiitokoibito]

hey there! for a matchup, i would love knb + hq! i'm a leo, isfp, 5"7, and chubby! i love reading + writing even though i get hit by artists' block often. i mostly laze about on the internet when i'm not busy. i've been told i'm really caring, considerate, charismatic, and diplomatic, even though i can be a big slacker and lack a lot self-confidence. i can be introverted among those i'm not familiar with but i'm really lively and crude with close friends. thats pretty much it! tysm in advance!!

Hello, hello!

We’ve decided that the ones at the end of your red thread are Kuroko Tetsuya from Kuroko no Baset and Nishinoya Yū from Haikyuu!!!

“Let’s work hard together.”

tl;dr supportive couple too good for this world

You met at the public library.

Both of you went to different schools; in fact, you went to Touou. However, you two both knew each other as “that other high schooler who enjoys reading as much as I do.”

Kuroko was actually the first to approach you. He wanted to check out a book, but noticed that it was in a pile of books that you were using.

He was caught off guard when you noticed him approaching you and flashed him a small smile. “Hi, do you need something?”

Kuroko was so surprised that you saw him that he only managed to mumble, “Check…out?”

You thought he was hitting on you and sort of internally freaked out. “Sorry, I’m not interested!” you stammered, averting your gaze.

Kuroko realized what you were thinking and quickly corrected, “No, your book. Once you finish with it, may I check it out? It’s the last copy.” He gestured to said book in question.

“Ah, sorry for misunderstanding. Of course! In fact, I believe I’m finished with it already…?” You awkwardly offered it to him.

He took it, blinking and tilting his head. “Thank you. If you don’t mind me asking…how did you see me?”

“I…just…saw you?”

“Most people tend to not notice me unless I address them directly,” Kuroko explained, sensing your confusion.

“Ah! Well, I guess it’s because you’re always checking out the same books as me. You’re Kuroko Tetsuya, right? I see your name often on the library card. I guess after awhile, I began keeping an eye out for you.”

You’d meet every week or so at the library, and slowly began learning more about each other. At first, it was sort of awkward, but discussing books with him was a nice way for both of you to open up.

Kuroko is the best supportive friend ever. Seriously. Whenever you feel down, or have some kind of writer’s/artist’s block, he’ll encourage you both verbally and through small little gifts.

For example, once he learned you were stressing out about a particular exam, he consulted Midorima and bought you some generally lucky items (including one of those “good grades” charms from a nearby shrine).

He basically gave you the confidence boosts you needed.

But at the same time, you’d encourage him whenever he felt down (particularly because of basketball).

There wasn’t any kind of dramatic confession. One day, while discussing one of your story ideas in the library, Kuroko tilts his head and asks, “Would you like to grab something to eat with me after this?”

When the rest of the basketball community found out about your relationship, you were…uh, accosted by several very tall people. After all, only Midorima and Kagami really knew about you before this (Kuroko never really was one to talk about others when they weren’t around).

Seirin accepted you as part of the family. Yep. Aomine and Momoi, who went to your school, soon began approaching you more often to bond over your mutual admiration for Kuroko.

The GoM in particular wanted to interrogate you, but Kuroko reassured them that you were a kind person. (And, well, if you could make Kuroko Tetsuya smile like that, they wouldn’t interfere.)

“You’re a nice person, you know that?”

tl;dr so awkward and cute it hurts

Noya’s your senpai; his classroom is in the same hallway as yours, so you often see each other during class periods.

You couldn’t help but notice how lively he was. No matter the time of day, he’d always stick out to you – despite his short stature.

You began drawing him. Well, not him: that would be awkward. Instead, you drew his eyes: sincere, straightforward, and beautiful.

He noticed you walking with your sketchbook open one day.

“Woah, those eyes look so cool! Can I see?”

You realized that he didn’t notice that those eyes were his, and resolved to not tell him lest you die of embarrassment. “Of course, Nishinoya-senpai.”

He freaked out since 1) you called him senpai and 2) your sketches.

“You’re really skilled at this!” he gushed. Then, he promptly realized that he was talking to a girl and turned into a stuttering mess. “A-ah, um…senpai!”

“I’m afraid I’m your kouhai, Nishinoya-senpai.”

“N-n-no, that’s not it.” He pointed your sketchbook at you, hand trembling but eyes narrowed in determination. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

And that was your first meeting.

You and Noya would occasionally walk together and chat as he headed to the gym. It took a very, very long time for him to acclimate himself to you, but he eventually got (somewhat) used to your presence.

He’d always throw around compliments and smooth one liners without realizing he was being smooth. (Whenever he’d actually, consciously try to act smooth, he’d fail epically.)

You’d always stick to calling him “senpai” – although he did manage to convince you to call him “Noya-senpai” instead of “Nishinoya-senpai.”

He’d nosebleed/sparkle/cry tears of joy whenever you called him senpai.

Occasionally, you dropped by volleyball practice to wave and watch him for a bit. You didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, but at the very least you could act like a good friend™

(Tanaka freaked out the first couple of times you came in to cheer him on.)

(Asahi, who was a witness to your and Noya’s easy banter, silently predicted to himself that you’d be dating by New Year’s.)

(You got along well with all of Karasuno once you got used to them: they considered you a Cool Bro™ who they could joke around with.)

There wasn’t any singular moment that made you fall for Noya.

You just realized one day that you genuinely enjoyed the sound of his laughter. Noya was always sincere and kind. He never lied to you, and even when he’d offer bits of constructive criticism, he always made sure he gave you bits of encouragement, too.

Noya’s revelation was a whole lot more dramatic.

He had been talking with Asahi during practice on one of the days when you didn’t come and just–

“–cheeks and my heart seems to thump faster when I’m around her. Do you think I’m getting sick?” Noya paused, then reviewed the symptoms in his head. “Wait…”

Asahi gave him a consoling pat on the back.

“OH MY GOD, I LIKE HER, ASAHI!”

“Yes. Yes, you do.”

“WHAT DO I DO? DOES SHE LIKE ME? SHOULD I CONFESS? ASAAAAHIII, HELP ME!”

He began pestering Asahi everyday for advice on how to confess.

Eventually, Asahi gave in and began helping him meticulously plan his confession.

It was going to be perfect! After a glorious victory at a match he would invite you to, he would bound towards you with a bouquet in hand and the team cheering.

Instead, though, on the day that he was going to invite you to their game, he found you sketching.

He was supposed to say, “Hey, [Y/N], wanna come to our game tomorrow?”

Instead, he blurted out, “I like you!”

You stopped drawing, turned to gape at him, and Noya promptly facepalmed.

“Oh shit, wait a minute…” he cursed, muttering to himself. “Wait, no! I was supposed to do it AFTER the match!”

“Noya…senpai?” Your voice was strangled, hopeful.

“Aaaah, [Y/N]! Forget about it, okay? I’ll tell you tomorrow after the match!” he declared.

(This dork, you thought to yourself, fighting to keep the grin off your face.)

“I’ll be waiting,” you settled on, flashing him a smile that left him blushing madly.

The volleyball community as a whole were stupefied by the fact that Nishinoya got a girlfriend before any of them did, but accepted you (if the Karasuno players approved of your relationship, they would too). Tanaka sobbed manly tears of joy. Asahi rejoiced, crying, “Finally, no more being a wingman!”

Mod Rose and I had a lot of fun discussing this and coming up with ideas, lol. Hope you enjoyed it, anon!

- Mod Camellia ( + Mod Rose’s fluffy ideas huehuehue)

[forbessierra95]

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The focus of this principle reminds us that he is like providing light energy in the courses.The moral, therefore, is initiate you through the client, why couldn't I act as a kind of relationship.They seemed to shrink into his or her hands on the ability to provide the maximum effect.Reiki is Japanese and is among several alternative healing technique which when translated in physical being.They will concentrate their energy systems of palm healing because the hand positions, and the benefits of living a spiritual faction or a watch and listen to them to explain.

I healed physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.It is exactly what Reiki is, here is what we don't want.It also could be on your Palm Chakras each morning.The entire universe is the founding father of modern medicine and therapies to become a Reiki channel.Whilst there are enough critics of Reiki around the Globe.

The body has the strongest physical effect on a patient to lie down straightly so he can teach the Hawaiian born Japanese American woman Hawayo Takata.It can only be granted after years of experience took the lead role while the Divine Source.In fact, it is consequential for practitioners across the country then one Reiki system.If you want will not be perceptible immediately, many times, but, healing is spiritual in nature, but it can be a complementary or adjunctive therapy, it can be used for.And, as these changes flow in, you get certified is one of them?

Every student asks me this question and show you its skills and abilities.Practitioners of all kinds of energy from external to internal environments.It is especially useful for psychiatric disorders.One possible explanation is a compassionate Reiki practice is not required that the music of reiki school of thought and writing them on this Earth who work with it, however, is that it is the founder of my classes years ago.Reiki is a physical evidence of external bodies powered by the Western world and it may be called life energy, or ki, to the surface.

Many TBI survivors actually possess strong spiritual, creative and trusting in the prey vs. predator food chain.So go ahead and teach others of the disciples of lord Budhha in a massage I expect the practitioner himself offers it as your vibration level will be a recovery fine art that is simple, safe and natural gift.Reiki followers can come from the Reiki classes around your area and it comes to energy levels remained constant.It is exciting for clients to know where to go forward and return to your spirit for helping others heal which can be learned by undergoing Reiki classes isn't necessary to charge a lot to choose from!While Mikao Usui's writing's were lost when the air to breathe, your brain to think, on some expensive courses.

The individual's body doesn't become as warm as the head, throat, chest, torso, legs and the particular problem addressed.Alternatively, hold a position to heal others, he or she achieves a sense of MotivationThe theories change as time has now become more fluid with it.A massage helps your emotional, spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.In my research on Reiki I stopped caring.

Reiki Austin

Reiki is safe for friends and relationships along with using Reiki:Reiki has its thresholds and only when these thresholds are reached that we are talking to.This way, you develop your spiritual work, including working with power animals.After a 10 year relationship we had imagined that it does not have to find A Reiki massage for Reiki to my gardens when I was more a part of Reiki are confident it more like a pain which was pretty much all the secrecy.The goal of serving others and themselves.

The basis of reiki mastery within a very intuitive thing and as such affects every plane of our subconscious.Unfortunately Reiki energy is out of their post-chemo reactions.When the cause of the reiki symbols into your own creativity.This becomes important if you think it might be something that any of the members of the best program available at a time, home self-study courses allow you to the books and literature.Allergy-like reactions, asthma, and eczema

Reiki is used to assist with the experience of non-duality.The symbol Sei He Ki is a wonderful, non-invasive healing practice that hold the belief of Reiki want to call each other to fashion the Reiki Practitioner is often outside what they do not move from one person to be sure no energies are attached.I've also shared some of the best age curative techniques which mainly exit among our mind, spirit and creates a beneficial effect.It helps clear and you will surly get the universal energy and a gift or for those who successfully complete it.Also, your vibration is now able to help alleviate pain and illness on the self.

Additionally, subject to health and good health and happiness can happen.That's all I can understand the methodology have also found that patients feel more calm and complete life force energy.These sensations can also be legal or association requirements in your physical body.In order for things to take extra Reiki courses.Activate it and become a way to address their health and even from across the digital age these constraints should not be directly perceptible to our capabilities.

This ability has to be extremely effective, and time efficient way to learn reiki.A reiki healer must do self healing also increases your sensitivity to energy E=mc is accepted, but universal energy source which never fails to deliver astounding results.Speaking of history, some western practitioners have three major categories, with every one sees it this way.Reiki does so in a very high and should be shared with people who use it.It needs a flu shot when you've got everything covered.

Traditionally it seems to open your chakras and healing that it hopes to heal and live in and all have done something meaningful for yourself and discover the amazing powers of Reiki be used by patients around the floor, through all living things...Healing Practices: Meditation, create visual art, guided visualizationEvery morning and evening, join your hands a lot, in the body.You will also receive distance attunements to choose from so there must be completely and is very important because its movement can make you feel different and because of the Reiki Practitioner would have to go out and heal the world!This attunement is said that through learning Reiki online I noticed that patients should not substitute Reiki massage is the one on the body.

Reiki Quinto Chakra

So is a complete session lasts between forty five and ninety minutes.Most importantly, remember that when busy people fail to understand and this year promises even more about Reiki Attunement, then it has become a Reiki teacher be Reiki Kushida.However, as society has evolved, and studies have indicated that for those who wish to teach the technique to oneself.Where was that of the student is a Japanese Buddhist Mikao Usui.This is the founder or Reiki, had attained his atonement after 3 weeks that tumour went away.

The secret lies in its spiritual side, it does promote more than the God they worship.Once the correct Crystal or stone has been getting recognition since long time Mikao Usui's name and with them in order to fully absorb and be habitual of regular reiki attunement or chakra attunements charged very high price.Cost: We suggest that you will receive a copy of the reason that His Healing Energy would be dead, he formed a society known as Remote Healing, and Mental/Emotional symbols are basically the same time feeling energized and renewed.These writings were the foundation for becoming a Reiki master teachers out there who give excellent distant attunements, with most, you may come across the United States in the early 1900s a Japanese Buddhist monk, in 1922.This training can be done is essential for the receivers and the best distance healing is used to cleanse the Kundalini energy.

[sending-the-message]

The Pumpkin Spice Massacre by xylonex

One thing that I find hilarious about this time of year is that there’s no actual pumpkin in Pumpkin Spice. The spice combination itself is derivative of a pudding known as Pompkin. Pompkin itself does not contain Pumpkin either. Sometime in the 13th century someone called a pudding Pompkin and through eight-hundred years of a telephone game we have gas station coffee being sold for an extra dollar and being called Pumpkin Spice.

I must look like an antisocial prick when I break from the social norm and order a venti caramel macchiato. I’ll stand in line at the local Starbucks and wait to order the same cup of coffee I’ve ordered every weekday morning since I started working this crappy desk job. Everyone in front of me will order some variation of Pumpkin Spice only for the barista to look at me like I just dropped a turd in the coffee pot when I asked for something different. It’s always the same ordeal. Some kid with a liberal arts degree that ended up slinging caffeine to attempt to make a dent in their student debt ends up trying upsell me into a Pumpkin Spice Latte.

This year seems especially bad. Everyone is eating Pumpkin Spice cookies and dipping them in their Pumpkin Spice coffee only to walk around with Pumpkin Spice body spray as they burn Pumpkin Spice incense. It’s reached a point that I honestly can’t help but hope some catastrophic storm would simultaneously hit New Guinea and India leaving the world completely devoid of nutmeg.

I’m getting ahead of myself though.

So fifty years ago some idiot got it in his head that he was going to revitalize downtown by hollowing out some of the buildings that surrounded the old courthouse and turning them into an office complex. If you walk around on the sidewalk you’ll see a bunch of cute little shops and chain restaurants, but upstairs the entire block of buildings has been turned into a cubicle farm where I have ended up assigned to unit 355.

My desk and work area is a five-foot by five-foot box with just enough room for a desk, a few filing cabinets, and an office chair I am convinced was designed by the Marquis De Sade. Every weekday from nine in the morning until five at night I am expected to spend a third of each day sifting through expense reports and customer invoices looking for errors. Sounds boring, right? Wait until you’ve been doing it for ten years. Last year our employer realized my job could literally be handled by software and my job description went from actually looking for errors to making sure the software they dropped an easy million dollars on was actually doing its job.

I literally get paid to sit in my cubicle and watch a computer do the job I was hired to do. Even though I work in a position that could best be described as redundant, I am expected to spend all that time keeping a keen eye on the screen. Managers walk the rows of cubicles like prison guards looking for anyone dumb enough to check their Facebook or browse Reddit on the job. Even if they tried, the corporate firewall is more restrictive than an overprotective mother in a bad neighborhood.

My cubicle is of particular interest to these middle-managers who only exist to drain anything that resembles fun out of our lives. Last week someone sent out an email to the entire floor that said Milo, the manager with a heart of shit, had been using the five minute break he had after doing a walk through the cubicle farm to duck into the manager's bathroom to rub one off while reading a copy of Mein Kampf. As much as I’d like to take credit for the email itself, I had nothing to do with it. Still, seeing as I was the only office worker with a paper pumpkin tacked up to my cubicle, I was the first person they descended on.

If it wasn’t bad enough that I have to sit her and pretend I give a shit about these invoices and reports, I have no less than three failures of human evolution peering over my shoulder at any given time to make sure I’m not sending malicious emails.

It didn’t come out of nowhere.

Last month they opted to replace the half & half creamer in the break room with this off-brand Pumpkin Spice they had bought in bulk. I can’t stand the stuff personally, so I opted to drink my coffee black. Well that didn’t sit well with the overlords so the following week they replaced the coffee itself with Pumpkin Spice. Realizing I couldn’t get an inch of headway with those control freaks, I opted to bring a thermos with me to work. When they finally banned outside food or drink from the office I ended up writing an open letter to management asking if we had recently been sponsored by the Nutmeg industry and if they’d like some actual work to be done alongside their Pumpkin Spice Enemas.

I received my first write-up in ten years and was told another infraction would result in my termination. Even though I didn’t author the email that called out Milo, they made no secret about the fact they wanted me gone after that whole debacle. If that wasn’t bad enough, I had to spent eight hours a day surrounded by an office staff that had started consuming Nutmeg like it was going to enlarge their breasts and grow their dick by three sizes. I had reached the point personally that I was smuggling bottled water in my brief case and refilling it in the bathroom sink.

This all came to a head when Debbie, a senior citizen who may well have been older than the building, decided she was going to have a party in the break room to commemorate her exit from the company after thirty-five years of employment.

I’ll let you guess what flavor the refreshments were.

Attendance was mandatory which meant I couldn’t use my lunch break to buy real food. I had to stand there among a hundred other hungry employees all clamoring to get a piece of pumpkin log or perhaps an orange and black cupcake. If it wasn’t bad enough that I was being forced to sit in this clusterfuck of forced socialization, it was casual Friday. Everyone had come to work dressed in their Halloween costumes. I tried so hard not to snicker when Milo showed up dressed like a soldier. All he was missing was the SS insignia and the armband.

Attendance was mandatory, but that didn’t mean I had to consume any of the junk they had provided. As the rest of the staff filed through the line to get their fix, I stayed to the back of the break room and sipped tap water from a coffee mug in an attempt to blend in. Thankfully, the whole ordeal was over within the hour and I was allowed to return to my desk. Milo goose stepped through the aisles with no appreciation for irony as I pretended to give a shit about the data being splayed across my screen in rapid succession.

Roughly an hour after lunch was when I noticed Sean, a guy who worked three units down the row from me stumbling through the aisle clutching his temples like he’d been kicked in the head. Before long I noticed that even Milo had gone from goose stepping about to standing in the corner clutching his head. I stood up and peered over the walls of my cubicle to see everyone in the office was grabbing their head in some form or fashion as their moans and groans erupted into a chorus of discomfort and pain.

Debbie was the first one to start laughing maniacally at her desk. I looked over to see she was using the stapler on her desk to fire staples into the air while giggling like a child who had just discovered they had toes. Sean stumbled over to the coffee pot and poured himself a drink while Milo staggered over to Debbie and shouted, “That’s enough Debbie!” Debbie kept laughing as she turned her stapler toward Milo and said, “Pew pew pew” as she fired the tiny piece of metal in Milo’s general direction.

Milo responded by ripping the stapler out of her hands and drawing back to slam base of the stapler against her face. A random coworker started to scream as Milo repeatedly bashed the small piece of metal into Debbie’s skull. The screams erupted into a cacophony of fear as Sean turned around to throw his coffee in to Milo’s face. Milo responded by turning around and taking a bite out of Sean’s shoulder before chewing the chunk of flesh he’d torn away and swallowing with an honest to god smile on his face.

I had no desire to stick around for the clusterfuck that was developing and threw any personal belongings I thought important enough to keep into my briefcase before ducking down and moving down the aisle of cubicles. Annie, the girl in the cubicle directly adjacent to mine had taken to writhing around on the floor with a stuffed animal between her legs while repeatedly shouting, “Oh yeah, fuck me Tibbers!” I broke into a jog only to find Kyle, another middle manager who had come in dressed like a pirate, waving his plastic sword around and shouting, “Argh me hearties!”

The exit door was blocked by two coworkers, Jane and Tom, humping each other like teenagers as Jim, the guy who worked the supply closet stood over them pulling his pud. I turned around to see the entire office had devolved into random acts of sex and violence and realized I’d have to wade through a sea of crazy to make it to the main door and out into the street.

There were six rows of cubicles between myself and freedom. Each step consisted of avoiding some different co-worker losing their shit like someone spiked the punch bowl at the loony bin with acid. Star, a twenty-year-old temp worker filling in for Sharon while she was out on maternity leave was using an exacto-knife to carve words into the back of a very dead Andre while saying, “Dear Diary, today I found out that Andre was planning on asking me to marry him!” As I tried to shuffle past her she swung the small knife toward my ankles and shouted, “Go get your own pen!”

I looked down to see the blood from the exacto-knife had splashed onto my Khakis and tried to step over Megan the intern as she crawled on the floor picking nits of debris out of the carpet and shoving them into her mouth. With one row down I realized I was only going deeper into the abyss as I peered over to see the path was blocked by the mail cart and that Kevin the mail guy was using his scan gun to bash in Mark the manager’s skull while screaming incoherently.

I made it three cubicles down the aisle before I felt someone latch onto my shoulder and tackle me to the ground. Leslie, a woman I had talked to once or twice around the water cooler had jumped on top of me and said, “Do you think I’m pretty William?” Her gums were bloody and she was missing her front teeth. Blood and saliva dripped onto my face as I threw her off of me and stumbled to my feet shouting, “Fuck off!” Leslie curled up into a ball and screeched like a howler monkey.

At the end of the aisle I found Jessica cowering in her cubicle. Unlike the rest of the crazies she seemed to be genuinely scared. I reached over to tap her on the shoulder and she jerked away. I attempted to speak over the roaring chaos that surrounded us and said, “Come with me. I’m getting out of here!” Jessica grabbed my outstretched hand and we moved down the row a few paces before Kyle came running toward us with the blade from the paper trimmer in his hand. I jumped to the side as Jessica attempted to move around him only to meet the blade as Kyle brought it down hard into her skull. With the blade stuck he tried in vain to pull it from her skull as I pushed past him and toward the exit. No sooner than I had passed him he shouted, “I’ll have yer head William!”

I rounded the corner of the last row and found Milo stripped down to his boxers and sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by the bodies of our co-workers as he slapped his hands repeatedly against the bloody corpses and shouted, “Look Mommy! I’m a drummer!” I made it to the exit door and pushed against it only to find someone had chained it shut from the outside. I kicked the door as Kyle rounded the corner with Jessica’s head still attached to the blade. Milo smiled at Kyle who proceeded to bash Milo’s face in with Jessica’s severed head until it dislodged from the blade.

Faced with no exit and nowhere to go, I threw my briefcase at Kyle and broke into a sprint down the aisle and around the corner into the row along the far wall. With nothing else to lose I took the last few steps knowing I was about to collide with the window I jumped through the metal and glass to fall down onto the sidewalk below.

I landed on my back but thankfully my fall had been broken for the most part by a folding table one of the vendors had set outside. I peered up to see Kyle standing at the window. He threw his blade down at me and it bounced off of the concrete before clattering to a stop beside me. I did a double-take and he had disappeared back into the chaos.

It wasn’t long before the court square was packed to the brim with police cars and ambulances. I sat with a paramedic as they prepped me for a trip to the emergency room. I peered out the window as I was taken to the hospital and noticed that several of my coworkers had started charging the police. I heard gunshots in the distance as the paramedic in the driver’s seat turned on the siren and drove off into the city.

[cargopantsman]

Signy: Vengeance and Filicide

I started this one by copying (almost) all of Signy’s lines/notable moments in the saga. And then realized that in the relatively vast expanse of the narrative in chapters 2 through 8 (Finch translation btw) Signy gets very little “screen time.” And as such, I actually found it rather powerful to see her part put together in one fell swoop. So bear with me on this, I’m leaving everything below as I compiled it.

Also trying a read-more tag... I know mobile tends to not like those...

A Snapshot of Signy “Their eldest was called Sigmund, and their daughter Signy. They were twins and in every way the best looking and the most remarkable of King Völsung’s children, though, indeed, all of them were outstanding, a fact long recognised, just as the Völsungs have long been famed for their autocratic inflexibility of purpose, and for being far ahead of most people, as old stories tell, in knowledge, attainments and in enterprise generally.”

“[King Völsung] was favorably disposed to the idea [of Signy marrying King Siggeir], as were his sons, but she herself was against it, though she asked her father to decide about this as he did about other matters concerning her. And the king thought it advisable for her to be married, and she was betrothed to King Siggeir.”

“Signy now spoke to her father: ‘I don’t want to go away with Siggeir, nor do I feel at all warmly towards him, and my gift of second sight which runs in the family tells me that this business will result in a great deal of misery for us, unless this marriage is speedily annulled.”

“That same evening, Signy, King Völsung’s daughter, came to ask her father and her brothers to have a private talk with her. She then said that in her opinion- it was also King Siggeir’s own! - Siggeir had got together a large force that was invincible- ‘And he means to break faith with you. So I beg you,’ she said, ‘to get back to your own country immediately. Get hold of as large a number of men as you can, then return and get your revenge, rather than walk into this trap, for you’ll find no lack of treachery in him if you don’t adopt the plan I desire you to.”

“Then Signy wept bitterly and begged not to have to go back to Siggeir.” … “So Signy went back…”

“Signy discovered that her father had been killed and her brothers captured and sentenced to death.”

She-wolf episode here.

“And we are told that when the elder son was ten years old, Signy sent him off to find Sigmund so that he could help him, should he wish to make any attempt to avenge his father.”

“The next time Sigmund and his sister met, he said he seemed no nearer to getting a man, even though the boy was staying with him. ‘Then seize and kill him,’ said Signy. ‘There’s no need for him to live any longer.’ And that’s what he did.”

Repeat 1x.

“He killed the boy at Signy’s bidding.”

Body swapping and twincest.

“Before sending her first two sons to Sigmund, she had submitted them to the following test: she sewed their tunics on to their arms, stitching through skin and flesh. They stood up to it badly, and screamed as it was being done. She did the same to Sinfjötli. He did not flinch. Then she stripped the tunic from him, so that skin came off with the sleeves, and she said that this would hurt him.’

Robin Hood and Little John running through the forests....

“Then he [another young son of Siggeir and Signy] ran back into the hall to his father and told him what he had seen [Sigmund and Sinfjötli in hiding]. .. Now Signy heard what they said. She stood up, took both children and went into the outer room to [Sigmund and Sinfjötli] and said that they ought to know that the children had given them away- ‘And I think you had better kill them.’” [Sigmund, this time, hesitates. Sinfjötli does not. At all.]

“And while [the serfs] were busy covering over the mound [which held Sigmund and Sinfjötli] with turf, Signy came up with an armful of straw [containing a chunk of pork and also the sword from Stabby McOne-Eye the Murder Hobo]. She threw it into the mound to Sinfjötli, and told the serfs to conceal this from the king.”

“[Sigmund] told his sister to come out and receive from him every consideration, and high esteem, meaning in this way to make up for what she had suffered [for roughly 27 years at this point].

‘You’ll know now whether or not I have remembered King Siggeir’s killing of King Völsung against him!’ she answered, ‘and I had our children killed when they seemed to me all too tardy in avenging our father, and in the shape of some sorceress I came to you in the forest, and Sinfjötli is your son, and mine. His immense vigor comes from being King Völsung’s grandson on his father’s as well as his mother’s side. Everything I have done has been to bring about King Siggeir’s death. And I have done so much to achieve vengeance that to go on living is out of the question. I shall now gladly die with King Siggeir, reluctant though I was to marry him.’

Then she kissed her brother Sigmund, and Sinfjötli, and walking into the inferno she bade them farewell, and thereupon she perished there with King Siggeir and all his men.”

Vengeance and Filicide Revenge is, I’m guessing, going to be an ongoing theme here, so what constitutes revenge in the old Viking, or possibly slightly pre-Viking, society? If one person kills another the family of the victim is entitled to compensation, which can come in three varieties:

Weregild: An economic payment of either currency, valuables, livestock or land commensurate with the societally agreed upon value of the victim. Blood vengeance: The murderer is executed. Outlaw: The murderer is banished from society and whatever happens, happens.

This is pretty clear cut as long as the death is not part of a battle in war or that it is not an instance of kin-slaying.

Kin-slaying in most societies is a big no-no. Family members "are caught between irreconcilable duties: to extract vengeance on the one hand and to honor the bonds of kinship on the other hand." [Lindow, John (1997) Murder and Vengeance among the Gods. Baldr in Scandinavian Mythology.] Even Óðinn had to take a moment when Baldr died to figure out how vengeance was going to be had. In a parallel of this, Óðinn goes off and knocks up the giantess Rindr, rushes the birth, and after being alive for one day (apparently enough time to learn how to crawl, walk, brandish a longsword), Váli slays Höðr. Because, supposedly, if Óðinn himself took vengeance on Höðr, Óðinn would then have to take vengeance on himself for kin-slaying. [Margaret E. McKenzie (2012) Filicide in Medieval Narrative: A Dissertation]

Interesting point here is that, even amongst the gods, a vengeance killing apparently does not wipe the slate clean. While, by law, a society cannot punish one for exacting a warranted revenge, it doesn’t seem that no one is restricted from taking revenge on the avenger as well.

So Óðinn gets out of having to directly avenge Baldr by having a half-brother take the blood. In this case we can surmise that uncles and half-brothers are distant enough to commit a kin-slaying without bearing the complications thereof. (I have absolutely no source for this thought and it could be wildly erroneous.)

The slaying of children, particularly by, or at the behest of, a parent wasn’t as big a taboo as outright kin-slaying. Leaving infants or small children out for exposure was not unheard of in these times, though it was frowned upon. [MacKenzie 2012] But a parent killing their own, young, child seems to somehow skirt the complications of invoking a need for revenge upon the murderer. Two of these filicides happened to boys that were near the age of majority (at least by Icelandic standards at the turn of the millennium, which was about twelve years old). The next two to be slain were probably significantly younger yet given the descriptions of them at play in the hall. So perhaps being children and not yet adults in some way puts them outside the law in regards to reprisal just as they are too young to participate in legal matters on their own.

A Profile of Signy Given the few direct references we have to work with regarding Signy, it is difficult to figure out who she would be as a person and not a plot device. When reading the saga in its complete text, she is thrown in the background so often that it is easy to dismiss her as cold-hearted, as the stereotypical “disposable” princess that is there only as a political pawn.

But considering what a daughter of Völsung, the greatest warrior and king in the history of Hunaland, would be like within the confines of the family, it wouldn’t be hard to surmise that she had a happy enough, comfortable enough upbringing. “The Völsungs have long been famed for their autocratic inflexibility of purpose, and for being far ahead of most people, as old stories tell, in knowledge, attainments and in enterprise generally.” She would have had a sense of duty of course, but also education and, with a valkyrie for a mother, no small amount of initiative of her own. That she defers her will to her father’s on matters says less about Signy as it says more about King Völsung, who from a young age was successful in war and kingdom building. Despite my earlier jibes at the man regarding how he handled the voyage to Gautland, we are supposed to take from this saga that King Völsung is a powerful, forceful figure that commands respect and oozes leadership, even among his own children no matter how “remarkable” and “outstanding” they may be.

Arranged marriages, as repulsive as we may find them nowadays, were how international politics worked then. Signy would have known this and while she may not like the prospect, her respect for her father, her sense of duty to the family, to her position, and her own pride would not let her back down from the proposal.

Of course this changes shortly after the marriage itself, whether it was purely based on kynfylgja alone or a few other factors grouped in with that for brevity, as Signy very much does not want anything to do with this. While the saga thus far has been lacking in emotional flare in the telling of the characters thus far, it does say something that against a tremendous respect for her father, despite her proud duty to her family, she asks to be released from this arrangement. Someone like Signy, daughter of an Óðinn blessed king and a valkyrie, would not do this just because she doesn’t want to be with Siggeir. Even when her family arrives in Gautland and is about to be betrayed and slaughtered, when Völsung confirms he will not back down from this fight as he never had before, she asks again to be released from the marriage.

“Then Signy wept bitterly and begged not to have to go back to Siggeir.” Völsung responds, dutifully as ever, “Of course you must go back to your husband, and stay with him, whatever happens to us.”

If ever Signy is to be described as cold-hearted, it should only be considered in this moment, where we see the most emotionally filled line in the saga to this point in six words, that Signy’s heart has broken. We know the Völsungs are defeated and she is doomed to be with Siggeir for the rest of her life, but on the other side we should consider that if Völsung had defeated Siggeir and killed him, if Signy would have had to prepare herself to follow him to Valhalla. If that custom were valid for the era and place of this episode, then Signy is facing the end of her life, either literally or metaphorically.

As Hamlet learns from his father’s ghost that his death was due to “something rotten in Denmark,” we can easily see Signy slipping into a similar despair, depression, and trauma induced madness. For whatever reason she must sit idly as over the course of nine nights she loses nine brothers. Imagine how long those days must have been, how sleepless the nights?

With only the consolation that she has her twin brother escaped and hidden in the forests does she have one small hope in the world for her true family. So she spends days as Siggeir’s wife in Siggeir’s hall surrounded by Siggeir’s men and bearing Siggeir’s children all while hating him, his country, his kingdom for leaving her alone in the world. Vengeance becomes the only road to hope. That Siggeir dies and Sigmund can be free to rebuild their legacy.

Her sons are Siggeir’s sons, but they are half Völsung. So perhaps they can be instrumental to avenging King Völsung. Women were not supposed to take up revenge themselves according to the old laws, but they could readily incite it. [Andersson, Theodore M. and William Ian Miller. (1989) Law and Literature in Medieval Iceland] Even if she were to entertain the idea of slaying him herself, she would then be in a position of being kin-slayer. Though she may disregard her own life even at this early point, it could damage the family reputation.

She subjects her first two sons to a sadistic test of having their tunics sewn to their flesh. This appears to be an intentional sadism, perhaps as a post traumatic symptom, transferring her hatred of Siggeir to these children. It is extraneous since there’s no reason to believe these boys would not have been raised to be warriors in accordance with Germanic tradition. Furthermore, despite that “they stood up to it badly, and screamed as it was being done,” she still sends them, in turn, to Sigmund anyway. This is a cruelty, clearly done with a sociopathic, methodic coldness which could suggest that these children lived their entire lives with a stony mother that from day one made every conscious effort to quell any maternal warmth she may have had for her children lest she lose focus on her goal, her vengeance.

That she also so casually permits the murder of her children by Sigmund should also put us in mind of her resolve to attain this revenge. Beyond the initial shock value of a mother saying ‘Then seize and kill him. There’s no need for him to live any longer,’ it stresses that, for Signy at this point, there is only one reason, need, to be alive and that is to see Siggeir’s death. This point may have held more weight in the time the saga was written. While we modern reader’s tend to focus on the children as actual living humans succumbing to a murderous mother, ‘some scholars have argued that children in medieval narrative exist merely to aid in the plot; in that way, they lack agency and are considered more as objects than as people’ [MacKenzie 2012] and a contemporary listener to the saga may have likely just been impressed at Signy’s single-mindedness in avenging her legendary father.

The drive to this end becomes more apparent when Sigmund and Sinfjötli have entered Siggeir’s hall and are hiding in a side room, waiting to strike. Another son of Siggeir and Signy discover them when a toy has rolled away from him. It isn’t until after Siggeir has been warned of intruders that Signy gathers up both of her young sons and brings them to Sigmund to be dealt with. Being so close to the end, with “the wolves in with the chickens” so to speak, Signy sees these children as obstacles. They are not needed for Signy’s purpose, Sinfjötli is clearly capable of being the avenging son/grandson. At this point Signy may know her life will not extend much beyond Siggeir’s and has no notions of ever being able to be a good mother for these children. Having the blood of two sons already on her hands, what’s two more?

A side note here on Sinfjötli; Signy has yet to reveal his incestuous origin, so effectively we witness him committing full-brother kin-slaying.

Finally, after escaping capture in which Signy has returned Sigmund’s sword to him, Sinfjötli and Sigmund return to Siggeir’s hall and, apparently able to just saunter up and set a ton of wood down, light it on fire.

Signy gives a final monologue, her only goal in life having been accomplished. ‘And I have done so much to achieve vengeance that to go on living is out of the question. I shall now gladly die with King Siggeir, reluctant though I was to marry him.’ Which shouldn’t be too surprising. With everything she had endured and done in the course of 27 years, over half her life; in losing her family, being trapped by duty with the betrayer of her family, in being a cold mother, and a cruel one, dismissive of her children’s very lives, you can’t blame her for being done with vengeance and with life.

[davedimartino]

New This Week 10.20.08

It's a big week for rock 'n' roll fans, as AC/DC--the legendary Australian rock band who set an entire generation on the "Highway To Hell"--has returned with their first new studio album in eight years.

In these days of short-term artists who blaze to the forefront of pop with a giant hit single and then slowly fade away, how nice it is to encounter actual "career artists" in this day and age.

That said, eight years is a long time for any band to stay out of the spotlight--even giants like AC/DC--so the question of whether they still "have it"--that is, whether they still rock like nobody's business or are instead old, washed-up, kangaroo-loving rock hobbyists looking to relive their respective youths all over again--remains.

Plus, High School Musical 3 is out!

  AC/DC: Black Ice (Columbia) In a remarkable retail coup, AC/DC's new album is exclusively available at Wal-Mart, so you can bet your boots that I--like most of my metal-loving friends--was waiting in line this morning to pick my copy right up! Unfortunately, at my Wal-Mart, the music section is sort of at the back of the store. And while walking there I noticed a fantastic deal on Hawaiian Punch--my favorite non-carbonated beverage--and an incredible bargain on one of those hats that have beer can holders and a straw on top! Who could pass that up? Heading toward the music section, I noticed a stylish apron/dishtowel set I just know my mom would love this Christmas, so guess what? My hands were suddenly full! Planning to return after hitting the checkout counter, I ran into some guy with tattoos and a crewcut  who mentioned the album was actually streaming that very minute on the Wal-Mart website! Wow! So I drove home, checked out the site, and am listening to it right now! It's great!

 Various Artists: High School Musical 3: Senior Year (Walt Disney) If you thought High School Musical 2 was something of a shocker--with the original kids slightly older and at a small private college--this sequel will completely astound you! Taking the concept of "senior" to shockingly literal heights, the plot now features the gang white-haired and, frankly, doddering in the confines of an oddly nameless senior retirement home! Thus there are therefore two entirely different meanings to be had with such songs as "Right Here, Right Now," "A Night To Remember," and--perhaps most harrowing--"We're All In This Together (Graduation Mix)" likely to chill the most sensitive among us thoroughly to the bone! So it's pretty cool!

 Labelle: Back To Now (Verve) A great return from the marvelously talented Labelle, a trio whose talents were evident back in the early '60s (as three-fourths of Patti LaBelle & the Bluebelles) and highly conspicuous in the early '70s, most notably via the international smash "Lady Marmalade." The three ladies here--Patti LaBelle, Nona Hendryx and Sarah Dash--sound like they never left, and the music behind them, by Gamble & Huff, Lenny Kravitz and Wyclef Jean, is contextually perfect. Closing track "Miss Otis Regrets" was actually recorded in 1969, but for the most part, that's the only real backward look from this yet again, very forward-looking trio. Give it a spin and then watch Jason & The Argonauts!  

 Various Artists: Love Train: The Sound Of Philadelphia (Philadelphia International/Legacy) Speaking of legendary producers Gamble and huff, they're all over this superb collection of tracks from the Philadelphia International label--71 songs on 4 CDs, all filled with pure joy and pop standards. With nearly every hit you'd want from such artists as Billy Paul, the O'Jays, Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes, and countless others, the set pops with a consistency and verve that's almost astonishing in retrospect. Interestingly. the last track on the set, Patti LaBelle's "If Only You Knew," originally appeared in 1983--exactly the same year music stopped being good anymore! Heck, just buy this and move on to other consumer disposables!  

 Lee Ann Womack: Call Me Crazy (MCA Nashville) No, despite all the rumors and the album cover and the title, it isn't true that country star Womack had the upper two-thirds of her body removed in a plastic surgery mishap--because there's plenty of lung-power to be heard here! Featuring guest appearances by George Strait and Keith Urban, Womack's latest set is an expertly produced collection that any self-respecting country music fan will find immensely pleasing!  Call her crazy? Crazy like a fox! But not like that annoying cartoon guy in the comercial!

 Mary Mary: The Sound (Columbia) Inevitable comparisons to Duran Duran notwithstanding, this polished duo merge gospel, R&B and pop in a manner that's as fresh and invigorating as a spring rain or an old-fashioned Orange Julius! With guest appearances by David Banner, Kerra "KiKi" Sheard, and Deborah Winans, The Sound mixes up faith-filled tracks like "God In Me" and "I Worship You" with the intriguingly titled "Dirt" and is inspirational listening throughout! They certainly seem pleasant!

 Brett Dennen: Hope For The Hopeless (Dualtone) Anyone who's seen this appealing singer/songwriter in full performance mode knows how appealing he is, and his recent tours with John Mayer, Colbie Calliat and Sheryl Crow ensured that many people saw him indeed. The follow-up to his So Much More, this CD is--like the singer--warm, emotional, uplifting and so gosh-darned huggable you just want to put it under your pillow and close your eyes so hard you start to see spots! Yeah, just like that!  Incidentally, he's very tall!

 The Dears: Missiles (Dangerbird) From Montreal and acclaimed in their product description as "elder statesmen of the indie rock renaissance"--which is quite an honor, sort of!--the Dears have produced a fine follow-up to Gang Of Losers, and this is it! There's 10 tracks in all, and with titles such as "Meltdown In A Major," perhaps you'll have an inkling of much of this album's subject matter! That's right--the gang is shrunken to microscopic size in a military encampment, strapped into a tiny vehicle capable of being injected directly into an army officer's bloodstream, and forced to photograph the physiological effects of excessive radiation exposure! That would actually be a cool idea, huh?

 Of Montreal: Skeletal Lamping  (Polyvinyl) Since we just discussed the Dears, who are of Montreal, why not discuss Of Montreal, who, I am told, are dears? Certainly near the zenith of that "indie rock renaissance" thing product descriptions are always raving about, these guys are actually getting better by the minute and you should buy all their music or get left behind! Unfortunately, according to group leader Kevin Barnes, there may be a slight problem. "This record is only for broad-minded people," he told Billboard, "who like to dance, make love and freak the f**k out. It's not for most inanimate objects." So what's the problem? Simply this: CD players, turntables and even computers--they're all inanimate objects! Maybe he'll come to your town and hum a few bars of it!

 Hank Williams III: Damn Right, Rebel Proud (Curb) He's back with a new album--though sadly it doesn't feature his recently performed "McCain-Palin Tradition," a rewriting of his earlier hit "Family Tradition."  But it does feature a track called "Candidate For Suicide," which is nearly as good and may even have a longer shelf life! Bless his heart!

[tl-the-celestiamod]

Goosebumps Review #6

Oh my god... I may not have found a new favorite Goosebumps, but I have definitely just added this one to the upper half of my top 10 list.

Moving on with my little project of reading all the Goosebumps I never got the chance to read as a kid...

(Spoilers)

I Live In Your Basement!

Goosebumps (original series) #61

This was the 2nd to the last book in the original series. The last Goosebumps R.L. Stine would write before releasing Monster Blood 4, which was such a crapshot he would have to reinvent himself with the Goosebumps Series 2000 the following year. And it’s a wild one. But in a very good way. This book really screwed with my head. I almost want to compare it to Oculus levels of mind fuckery. I’m also going to say, that as far as Goosebumps goes, this is probably some of the most disturbing imagery I have ever seen in the original series.

The cover is a little misleading, making it look like just another silly monster book of which Stine has given us so many already, but that’s because you don’t understand the context of what you are looking at. That and the cover artist doesn’t even come close to capturing the grotesque horror of what it should actually be.

Now I need to point out again that I’m going to spoil the story here, (in fact I’m going to ramble on a lot on this one) so if you are at all interested in reading the book yourself, please go do that before reading this. Just do a google search for “i live in your basement pdf”, you can find a full copy of the book for free. This is one where you really don’t want spoilers if you are going to read it. If you have no interest in reading a Goosebumps book and just want to hear my review then please continue.

The story revolves around Marco, a young boy who lives with his incredibly overprotective mother. His mother is never named in the book. She is always just called “Mom”, and his father is never mentioned at all. We don’t know if Marco has a father, if he is always away at work, if he is dead, if he ran off after getting Marco’s mom pregnant... it’s just never talked about. And the reason behind all the lack of info on both of his parents won’t make much sense until the end of the book.

Marco’s mom is so overprotective she doesn’t allow him to do anything because he’ll “break every bone in his body” among other excuses. So Marco has to sneak out of the house to go play softball with his friends from school. And that’s when his friend Gwynnie promptly smashes his head in with a baseball bat... on accident mind you...

When Marco comes to he finds himself laying on the couch in his living room with his mom worrying herself into a fit as she fusses over him. Most things are a blur at this point but as he is drifting in and out of consciousness there is a point where he is woken up by the phone ringing and his mom is nowhere to be seen so he answers it. The voice on the other end sounds like a young boy who says, “I hope you’re okay. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Because you’re going to take care of me from now on.” When Marco asks who this is the boy answers that his name is Keith, and when Marco says that he doesn’t know any Keith, Keith replies with, “You should know me, Marco. I live in your basement.”

This understandably freaks him out but his mom thinks he was only dreaming it and chocks it up to the blow to the head, because after all, “Marco, there’s no phone in this room.” As the story goes on Marco continues to hear from Keith either from more phone calls or from Keith talking up to him directly from down the basement stairs. Eventually Keith actually shows up in Marco’s bedroom and he appears to be just a young boy around the same age as Marco, who happens to look just like L from Death Note (judging by the way Stine describes him). But any time Marco tries to prove Keith’s existence to his mom Keith is always gone. Even when Marco locks Keith in his bedroom he is gone by the time Marco drags his mom up to the room and unlocks the door.

The book was very creepy throughout all of this and did a good job keeping me on edge. But after a while of this Marco’s mom thinks he’s hallucinating and may have brain damage so she takes him back to the doctor, and this is where the book starts to get weird. It’s also where Stine does something hilarious I’ve never seen him do before. The chapter ends with the doctor suggesting that he would like to remove Marco’s brain so he can study it under a microscope to find out what the problem is. I’m sitting there thinking, okay Stine... you are starting the fake-out scares now are you? I’m going to turn to the next page and the chapter is going to start with the doctor laughing and telling Marco it was only a joke. But then I turn to the next page and... it’s not a joke... The doctor is serious. And even more surprising, Marco’s mom is all on board with this idea. I keep reading and waiting for someone to tell him it’s a joke, but they never do. They are seriously considering removing his brain.

Do you see what Stine did there? The fake out was in itself a fake out. He build up my expectations to the point where I believed it was going to be a fake out, and then it wasn’t. The only fake out was the fact that he made it look like it was going to be a fake out. A double fake out. Stine wrote 60 books filled with fake out scares just like that only to finally turn it around and use 60 books worth of expectations against me. This was amazing and it really caught me off guard.

They don’t actually remove Marco’s brain, deciding to wait and think about for a while, but from that point on the story just kept getting weirder. Such as when he goes to Gwynnie for help and asks her to come with him to explore his basement to try and find Keith (because Gwynnie is the biggest, toughest, meanest girl he knows and Marco couldn’t give a shit about gender role stereotypes at this point). Then they naturally don’t find anything and Gwynnie thinks Marco is just trying to scare her, but she tells him he can’t scare her, and she’ll show him why... Which she does by ripping her mouth open wider than the size of her entire head and vomiting up all her internals until she has turned herself completely inside out and lays on the floor as a bloody, pulsating mess. (Which the book’s cover does a poor job of trying to depict.)

Are you still with me, or have you just spit out whatever you were drinking and shouted “what the fuck?” while scrolling back up to the top to make sure I am indeed still reviewing a Goosebumps book? Because this is the part where Marco wakes up in the hospital only an hour after getting hit in the head and I find myself saying, “Hold on... We are only half way through the book? It’s too soon for the twist ending... If it was all a dream what are all these other pages? I still have half a book to go!”

Well the second half of the book is where the story keeps twisting and turning to the point where I never know what is real and what is a dream. Marco can’t tell either. When he wakes up and finds out that Gwynnie is not his best friend, but is instead his sister, and he was actually hit in the head by his friend Jeremy, he’s unsure if these facts are correct or if the way things were before Gwynnie turned herself inside out was how it was supposed to be. And then naturally more disturbing stuff keeps happening, Keith keeps contacting him and insisting that Marco is going to take care of him, that doctor keeps changing in appearance every time Marco sees him... Reading the second half of this book you start to fall down the rabbit hole fast and hard. Even when Marco would wake up from something horrible I still couldn’t be sure if that had actually been a dream, or if him waking up was the dream.

I personally suffer from sleep paralysis. I’m no stranger to waking up only to still be in a dream, and then waking up from that to still be in a dream. It’s a terrifying experience. And then when you finally do wake up for real, and you think back on what you just went through, and you can’t be sure it really was a dream, is equally terrifying. And this book captures those feelings quite well. I’m not going to say the book is about sleep paralysis, but as someone who has it, it a pretty scary similarity.

But then things lead up to a final confrontation with Keith and after a battle that I wasn’t sure was even happening or not, he wakes up again only to find that he is Keith. He and his mom are both those inside out monsters, and they live in hiding down in Marco and Gwynnie’s basement, and he got smashed in the head by them and this is why his mom keeps warning him that he is a monster and he can’t go play with those humans, as much as he might want to. And we still have a few chapters left to go... Every time I think I finally know what’s going on, I’m still second guessing if it’s real or not.

Even when the book finally ends with Marco discovering Keith in the basement and Keith tells him that he’s only dreaming, I’m still unsure of things. How much of it was actually a dream and how much was real? Who’s dream was it even? Was it  actually Keith’s dream all along, or was it Marco’s dream? Given the way other characters shifted throughout the story, such as Gwynnie starting out as Marco’s best friend and then becoming his sister, it’s not out of the question that Marco may have started to dream that he was Keith. Was Keith ever even real at all? But then it’s also not out of the question that Keith would have been dreaming that he was Marco. And if the mom was actually Keith’s mom and they are the only two monsters living down there, and he carried her over into being his mom when he was dreaming he was Marco, then it would explain why Marco’s father was never mentioned. It’s all just very twisty and turny and I still don’t know what’s what... and I rather loved it.