#also i wasnt planning on drawing him at all today but i simply had to. you forced my hand. 🥰

[dizzybizz]

>:DDDDD THANKS FOR JOINING @polyphonial, @scrolpencer, @davactivated and @thekittyfox2999 !!!!! <333333

also these ^^^ are being hung up on the fridge i totally have in my mind.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! Dom!Minho x sub!reader criminal!skz, gang!au, angst(?), criminality, mentions of scars, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, explicit language, mentions of robbery, mentions of police, mentions of cuts, alcohol consumption, mentions of fights, public sex, PIV, fingering, unsafe sex (STAY SAFE), orgasm (m/f), cum, slight bulge kink, squint to see the degradation. 

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS SINCE THIS PIECE CONTAINS VIOLENCE!

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.6 k 

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: EEEEP part 2 of purple hearts that is more of a background story to the first one so if you haven’t read the first one please do so here!~ (also jesus fucking christ did i struggle with this sooo... don’t expect much lmao)

OH if you want a song recommendation; A good song never dies - Saint Motel (fits this fic heheh...) 

A loud bang erupted through the room alerting the 7 other boys. Bangchan’s fist was firmly planted on the table as he looked at the shoked faces off the seven boys.

“We can’t go on like this anymore”

He spoke in a raspy voice, his breath quivering as the other boys avoided eye contact with both Bangchan and between themselves.

“Did you see what happened out there?!” Felix flinched at Chan’s loud shout as Changbin smirked, spinning in the office chair and staring at the ceiling. 

“It’s not that serious, Chan! Just a couple bruises tha-” Changbin started speaking but was soon cut off.

“Nonsense!” Chan growled out. “All of this because that son of a bitch won’t get a job, we included you because you were a detective. You were useful once, Minho”.

The entire room glanced over at Minho. His cheek scarred, a droplet of blood desended down from his knuckles as he swept his hair back with one hand. 

“Not my fault, you wanted me to plan the different robbing schemes so how the fuck can I work, huh? Ever though about that?” He spat on the floor as his gaze was locked with Bangchan’s. The leader getting visibly annoyed by Minho’s tone. 

“Calm down everybody” Seungmin said, carefully nudging at the curtain infront of the window and looking down at the blue and red lights that was flashing all over town. “Continue like this and we’ll all be dead meat for the police”.

Hyunjin was sitting across from Changbin, only the big white table seperating them as a lonely lightbulb hanged in the middle. 

“I agree with Chan, Minho used to help by getting access to information only the detectives had but now... well, he’s not doing much” he scratched the back of his neck while talking. 

Minho was aggrivated by his words, ready to lunge at anyone that dared to open their mouth about how he wasnt helpful after he’d been fired from his job as a detective.

“I-I’m gonna find a job, not like you fuckers sitting here and living off others pain”. He tried to defend himself but only earned a scoff from Felix.

“Please,,, don’t try to judge us when you’re in it yourself” Felix remarked snarkily, sitting on the cold stone flooring. A first aid kit was laid out infront of him as he treated a big wound on his forearm, wrapping bandage over the cut and hissing as the material stinged against the raw wound. 

“I’ll find my ways, don’t worry” he devilishly smirks, many of the boys sighing and rolling their eyes. All except one. Bangchan. His blood was boiling. Did Minho not see how the whole groups future was hanging on by a thin red thread? The red representing how much blood has been shed by these boys in order to survive in this vile world.

Silence filled the room, only the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from outside. Minho clenched his jaw, looking around at the silent boys before grabbing his coat from the wobbly coathanger and exiting the mobs headquarter, shutting the door loud enough to startle both Jeongin and Jisung. Confused glances were exchanged while Bangchan just stood at the end of the table, staring out into the dark night. 

---

The nightlife was well and alive in the big city. Music blaring, people chattering and cars humming. The neon lights were all around him as well as the vast crowds of people enjoying the night. Minho walked into a bar that was a couple of blocks away from where he and the boys had been moments earlier, robbing a jewely store and beating up the owners until puddles of blood formed around them. Most of the times it was easy but today the police were a step ahead and bad planning by Bangchan almost led to the boys in handcuffs. Luckily, all eight managed to escape, leaving the bodies and the spray painted SKZ mob logo on the old fashioned walls of the jewerly store. 

The bar reeked of alcohol as the lights were low, only a couple of silhouette visible. Unsteady bar chairs decorated the dim bar along with a wall of fancy liquor bottles and as Minho sat down he looked down at the bar table before croaking out;

“One boulevardier“ 

He licked his lips as he looked cockily at the bartender that quickly nodded, intimidated by the wound on his cheek. Minho rubbed the back of his neck whilst comtemplating his life choices. Graduated with a law degree, once being a well respected detective but what was he worth now? He was just a dirty criminal, ruining lives in order to survive. The drink was placed infront of him, a coaster on the bottom of the wide glas as the drink condensed, forming beeds of liquid on the rim. Just as he lifted the glas to his chapped lips you tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me” 

You stood behind his hunched figure and met his gaze as he turned around, drink in hand. You show your detective badge before speaking.

“y/n, y/l/n. Happened to see any commotion here tonight, sir?

He scoffs which makes you confused as you look him straight into his cold brown eyes.

“Detective? At least you got to keep your job”

Minho turns back and you stand there, wondering if he’s drunk or just refusing to cooperate.

“Sir, I asked you if you’d seen anything that could lead us to the SKZ mob? I’m pretty sure you know who they are. You know, the ones that makes the entire city shake of fear.” 

“Sure, I know of them.” He smirked with his answer.

He patted the empty bar chair next to him, signaling for you to sit which caught you off guard. You were hesitant since he didn’t look like the friendliest type but you nodded, slowly sitting down next to him. 

“Look, I might even surprise you about how much I know” he remarked, steadily raising the glas to his dry lips. 

“Is that so? How do you know so much?” you asked, geniunly interested in him and that scar on his cheek.

“Former detective” he stated simply. 

Your eyebrows jerked at his words. ‘Former detective?’ you thought, losing his job must have been hard on him judging from his scruffy appearence and by the way he waved his finger at the bartender, ordering another drink. 

“Then why did you lose your job?” Curiosity was going to be the death of you.

“Aren’t you asking too many questions, baby?”

Who was he calling baby? The two of you had met minutes ago but something in the way his voice rang through that word caused shivers to descend down your spine. 

“I’m a detective, that my job and you should know that” you replied sassily, not knowing what to do with the butterflies in your stomach upon hearing him call you baby. 

“I could help you but it comes with a cost.”

He moved his hand in a circular motion, swirling the liquor as the floating ice cubes bumped against eachother, the sound being completely masked by the distinct chattering of other guests. 

“Well,,, what do you want me to do?” You looked at him as he stared straight ahead, his silvery earring swaying as he turned his head towards you, grinning. 

“A job and you.” 

His deep brown eyes seemed to draw you in but you had to resist, you were on a patrolling shift after all. 

“I’m s-sorry,,, This is not appropriate behaviour” you say as you try to get up before being abruptly pulled back by your wrist, the purple heart on your bracelet reflecting in the minimally lit bar. 

“I know damn well that there is a promotion looming in the air” he said, not breaking eye contact with the bracelet on your arm. He was right. If he had valuable information it could change your career, make you climb higher in the ladder of success and peer down at all your co-workers that were once laughing at your lack of skills.

“H-how’d you know?” you said, flustered at his big hand that was still tightly gripping your wrist. He flashed his devilish grin before yanking you by the arm, dragging you to the bathroom. 

“W-wait,,, what are you-”

Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he slammed you against a cubical as he crashed his lips onto yours. Luckily the bathroom was empty leaving Minho without any hesitation to fuck you so hard that you’d be longing for more, fuck you so that you’d be left with no other choice but to hire him. You melted in his touch and as much as you knew how wrong this was something about his mysterious aura had you answering his kiss, pursing your lips and slipping your tongue inside of him. The kiss quickly got heated, sparks flying as his fingertips lightly nudged on the band of your jeans. Minho tilted his head, cupping your warm soft cheek with his brittle and bloody hands as you moaned into the kiss, adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of getting caught at any moment. 

Minho pulled you into a cubical, your bracelet jingling from the sudden movement. Locking the door, he put his hand by the side of your head and towered over you making you feel helpless. You needed him inside of you. 

“Deal?” he leaned over to your ear, his hot breath tickled your ear and all you could do was nod as you desperatly clenched around nothing. 

You reattached your lips on his, the bitter taste of liquor spreading in your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance. Minho stroked your hair until his hand slowly moved to peel off your shirt, exposing your bra strap. His touch on your bare shoulder made you shudder and your core quivering in anticipation, feeling a wet patch on your underwear. His hand unbuttoned your pants causing you to gulp loudly, holding the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.  Without warning his cold fingertips slid down beneath your panties, grazing your sopping folds and feeling himself get painfully hard, not wanting to admit the effect you had on him. 

“Already this wet, babygirl?” 

He broke the kiss, looking at your pained expression as he inserted a finger into your dripping pussy. Your eyes tightly shut as your hands wrapped around his arm, needing something to hold on to before your trembling legs gave up on you. You quickly stripped yourself from your pants and underwear, the fabric pooling around your feet and touching the surprisingly clean bathroom tiles. 

“Needy I see” he scoffed, inserting a second finger and sending you over the moon with pleasure, your hands still wrapped around his wrist. 

“s-shut up, you m-made me like this” you stutter back at him, trying to impose some sort of dominance but Minho only swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, looking at you with hungry dark eyes. A broken moan escaped your lips that glistened from saliva, Minho curled his fingers upwards, grazing your g-spot with every move. Before another strained moan managed to escape your lips he retracted his fingers, lapping off your juices from his long fingers with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Turn around”

His cold voice pierced your eardrums and as if you’d been hexed you complied, your body moving to his command. Your hot cheek pressed up against the cubical door as Minho’s body was dangerously close to yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare ass. The sound of his belt unbuckling echoed as you pressed your ass up against his bulge, desperate for his cock. 

In a swift motion both his pants and underwear dropped down to the floor, his erect veiny member springing out, the tip shining with precum. He pumped his length a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your dripping heat making you mewl out in suspense, the burning feeling in your core growing stronger. Minho alined himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in the tip to which you hissed, a momentary sting hitting your senses. He teased you by dragging his fingertips across your buttcheeks and up your spine, goosebumps erupting. 

Not being able to control yourself you pushed your butt out making you sink deeper on his length, earning a groan from the dark haired boy. 

“Desperate much?” he cooed from behind you. 

Your hands formed into fists as they held you body up from the door.

“F-fuck,,, hurry, I’m still on my shift you know?” you spat out at him, your legs shaking from how his dick stretched out your tight walls. 

“Whatever you say”

He laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful before turning his hand and yanking you towards him, your back arching as his hips slam against yours causing your butt to jiggle. You choked on your own moan as Minho’s hand tightly held you by the roots. 

The movement repeated and got harder by each thrust causing you to bite your lip in order to stop from screaming out in pleasure. Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, stray pieces of hair landing infront of your hair. Sweat beaded on Minho’s forehead, his groans getting louder as he neared his sweet release. 

“S-so tight,,, fuck.” He spoke haltingly, hating the fact that you made him weak. In order to hold on for longer you clenched around him not knowing that he’d grunt loudly.

“Now you’re c-clenching around me like a little whore?” 

A string of moans ensued from your delicate lips upon hearing his new nickname to you. How did he know that you liked it? You could only nod, your speech all slurred from the impact of his dick burrowing deep into your cervix. The knot in your stomach tightened, your head dazed as Minho’s thrusts became uneven, the grip on your hair tightening. Not feeling your legs any longer the knot unraveled, your body shivering from the orgasm that washed upon you, your juices coating Minho’s dick that was still pounding into you at an immense speed. 

“A-aah,,,s-shit!” you screamed out as he rushed after his own orgasm, overstimulating you in the meantime. Tears prickled in the corners of your watery eyes as Minho’s last moan echoed in the room, the moan being high in pitch. He pulled out of you leaving your cunt dripping as he pumped his length a couple of times, throwing his head back before his white cum spurted onto your butt, feeling the warm substance drip down your leg. The two of you panted, chest heaving as your forehead made contact with the door, legs weak. 

In your peripheral vision you see the boy stretching out a paper towel, his chest heaving as he wiped off the small sweat beads with the back of his hand. You shake your head in order to come back to earth before taking the paper towel from his hand, muttering a small “thank you”. 

“So what you say, babygirl?” His dick turning flaccid before pulling up his pants, looking at you wonderingly. You wipe off the cum and discard the paper in a small waste bin before you reach down to grab your panties and pants, pulling them briskly up. You reach for your back pocket, holding out a business card between your pointer and long finger with one hand, the other hand messing with your hair, making it look presentable. 

“Call me on Monday” you say before stumbling out of the cubical, leaving the grinning boy behind you. 

[bitchfitch]

Aleistar and Haze with grey to multi-coloured? :O (i am just really fond of the grey to multi-colored for some reason)

this one was just Sweet, Tooth Rotting, just Absolutely Delectable and it has Killed me.

zjsnnsnsns thank you for the prompt!

A Blue Armchair

There was a blue armchair in Aleistar's living room. It was his chair, more sonthan any of the others in his home. It was where he had gone to relax and read or to watch the city far below from his window for almost a decade now. A home within a home.

It was a blue armchair, but he only knew it was blue because the clerk at the furniture store had assured him it was blue when he bought it.

Aleistar had never really bemoaned the lack of color in his life. As far as he was concerned color didn't matter. Simply put, he'd never once in his 56 years of life seen color, so he couldn't exactly miss it. Couldn't morn it, or really notice that it wasnt there. He knew he was lacking color, of course he did, he saw it in the art works made to only be viewable by those who had found their soul mates, and he saw it in, as he got older, how everyone around him would look at him with some passive pitty. How his friends stopped inviting him out so that he might meet someone who would show him color, and how people had begun to whisper about him when they thought he wasn't listening.

Of course there were millions of people who never saw color, who's soulmates died before they met, or who died before they could bring color to their own soulmate, or who just never had one. 

For a while he had fancied himself one of the last types. He wasn’t a warm and caring man and he'd never felt the draw to find his other half that everyone described. But those types always said they felt complete as they were, that even without a soulmate they were truly happy. 

Aleistar thought he was one of them until he broke down, drunk and crying against his best friends shoulder. He didn’t remember much, of what he said the next day, just that now that he'd accidentally picked open this wound it was seeping constantly. 

///

Leonard had handed him the book as a joke. 

It was old and bound in a musty smelling leather but its pages were pristine. Leo said it's title translated something like "Desperation and Victory" but Aleistar couldn't make it out on the books front. The lettering was the same value as the leather it was printed on, and something about that felt like it was meant to be an insult.

///

He almost made it a week before he read the book for the first time. 

He sat in his old armchair that the clerk at the furniture shop had told him was blue, and put his feet up on his coffee table which was a deep brown according to Leo, and flicked through the pages that he suspected would be yellow if they weren't just as grey as everything else. 

///

The book had made it sound so effortless to trade his soul for the chance to have everything he could ever want. It listed wealth and riches and beauty or talent as examples of what someone might ask for, but all he wanted was to meet his soulmate. 

A fancy circle here and a few drops of blood there, and boom he'd have a demon who could find them for him. 

Was it worth it though? Was giving up his soul to meet someone he was already fated to meet worth it?

///

A month passed. he was 57 now.

Fifty-seven. 

That number hurt to think about. He wasn’t old old yet, but he had three years until his planned retirement, and an average of maybe eighteen more to follow, if he was lucky.

///

He spent a lot of nights crying in the armnchair he was told was blue with the book he thought of as yellow in his lap. He still remembered how badly he had wanted a family when he was young. Two kids. He'd always wanted two because it felt right to him. If they were both conceived today he was likely to be dead before they would be old enough to share a drink together at his favorite bar. 

Had he truly wasted his life? Had he let himself become so comfortable with the grey that he let a lifetime of color pass him by? 

He was 57. His college classmates were all probably starting to welcome grandchildren now. 

He was 57 and hed already been invited to so many funerals.

He dreaded that he might have already missed his soulmate's.

///

Aleistar habitually took notes at work, always had, but now they were more summoning circles than to-do lists.

///

He was 57, and he didn't care about having a soul anymore, because he desperately needed to find his soulmate and knew he would do whatever he needed to do to make that happen. 

///

The flash of the circle igniting all at once almost made him regret this decision. 

For a moment all that his senses could take in was the stark white light followed by a blurred buzzing of sensation as he struggled back onto his feet after having been thrown by the force of the demon entering his home. 

He was older, and his joints creaked under him as he finally got eyes on the hell beast who would own his soul in a scant few minutes.

He met the demon's eyes across the boundaries line of his summoning circle, his body going tight and rigid as the demon stared right back at him.

The demon's eyes were black and round and open wide. His lips were also black, and his teeth a sharp white where they showed in the slight gape mouthed expression the demon wore. The grey scale that Aleistar knew so well, that he had been so comfortable with for all these years, could hold only the demon's eyes and lips and teeth within itself.

Aleistar had heard that when someone finally found their soul mate they would be able to name one or two colors wothout being told what they were.

Maybe thats why he knew the demon's hair was blue. Deep dark blue. Like the sky at midnight if all the stars blinked out of existence. The ring around the demon's neck, along with its counter parts around his horns, and upper arms, and thighs had to be gold. True pure gold that could buy out everything he had ever owned and still be only a tiny fraction of the way through it's value.

Blue and gold were the colors he could name, Blue for the demons hair and lashes, gold for his markings, But the paled so much next to the color of the demon's skin. Warm and strange and beyond inhuman. Decadent, and bold and rare. and so... magic. So very magical. The color of this demon's skin would be his favorite from now on, and nothing would ever manage to compare to it again.

Nothing would ever again manage to compare to the demon who was slowly standing from where he had been knelt. The corners of his lips were up turned in a way that was almost a smile, more disbelieving than joyous but well on its way towards that destination.

"Hello-" the demon tried to speak, his voice smooth and low as he blurred at the edges, like a fog cloud barely forced into the shape of a man, but his voice cought in his throat as he swirled around the circle, to just look at everything, "Did… Did everything just get very… colorful for you?" the demon asked with a weak but hopeful smile as he pressed his hands up against the invisible boundry between them.

Aleistar thought he'd be scared to approach a demon, that this part would make his stomach turn. But he took the demon's hands in his own without hesitation and without flinching at the feeling of his soft and hell hot skin burning his own just that little bit.

Oh the demon was beautiful, not just his colors that felt so unearthly after of a lifetime of grey, but his fine and delicate features that buzzed around the edges like he might vanish if Aleistar stopped looking at him. 

Aleistar wanted to speak, wanted to say Something to the demon, but he was still struck dumb by the boiling joy and wonder in his own chest that bubbled over everything he met the demon's eyes again.

Some faint part of Aleistar's brain told him he should be panicked about how just holding this demon's hands made all the colors that much more intoxicatingly vibrant. That he shouldn't be on the verge of tears or laughter in this moment because all these colors could mean only one thing

"The silent type huh? Are you broody too?" the demon tried to joke before he caught himself even as his delicat fingers held onto Aleistar's a little tighter, "Oh, uh, the contract. You summoned me because you want me to find you your soulmate right? Uhm," the demon smiled and Aleistar knew he was grinning too. 

Finally, Aleistar understood all those people hed seen collide in the middle of the walkway. Desperate to just touch and hold their other half after far too long separated from them.

"Wow, ok, so I knew I was exceptionally good at my job, but this is a new record for me," The demon babbled on, "Uhm, I- You see the colors too right? I'm not just going crazy, and this is real, right?"

"It is, I- It really is isnt it?" Aleistar was laughing softly and he didn't know why, but the demon was laughing too now and pulling him closer and past the edge of the circle.

The book had been very specific about never being in the circle with an un named demon, said that the demon could use all sort of tricks against you if you made that mistake, but this one seemed perfectly content to just press up against him while burrying his face in the fabric of Aleistar's shirt. Still holding his hands and still chucking something that was almost a hiccups as he sought out his soulmate's touch.

Aleistar wrapped his arms around the demon, around his soulmate just to hold him close for the moment it took them both to stop giggling like school boys. There was something impossibly grounding about holding the demon, something that made him determined to never let his soulmate go

The demon's cute little horns bumped up against his chin every time either of them moved and there was something just immensely endearing about that to Aleistar, so he pressed a kiss to one, marveling at how his skin buzzed from such a little touch before doing it again and again until he was peppering his soulmate's face with kisses that carried all the emotions he couldn't put into words.

"I still need to make a contract with you," his soulmate said after Aleistar tried to kiss him properly for the first time, "I- I've already found you your soulmate, so you're going have to ask for something else… Something that will take very long for me to deliver on so I dont have to leave you," He looked up from where he was still pressed against Aleistar's chest, those coal black eyes so hopeful.

"Be mine," Aleistar said without thinking, "Stay with me and just- Just be mine," smiling this much was starting to hurt, "Please," he cupped either side of the demon's face in his hands to tilt him up just that little bit more, "Please," he repeated again, his breath tight and nervous in his chest like he was just a school boy confessing to his crush under the slide, light and nervwracking and desperate for things he didn't fully understand yet.

The demon grinned and nodded, "Give me a name and it will be done," his hands braced against Aleistar's chest, his fingers tangling in the fabric as he tried to ground himself there. 

Aleistar nodded and took a breath just to steady himself enough to not stutter. He remembered all the ways you could name a demon that the book had listed, all the ways you could bind one to yourself and all the ways those ways could fail, but there was only one he had any interest in trying in that moment.

"Haze," he said, a single syllable to describe his soulmate completely, it was all he needed. If the fervor with which Haze kissed him the moment the his new name was spoken was anything to go off of, then Aleistar felt confident in assuming he'd chosen correctly.

When they finally slowed to let Aleistar catch his breath after minutes of heavy petting and being too needy to let the other more than an inch or two away, they were sat in an armchair that Aleistar didn't need to be told was blue anymore.

[zeitgeistghoul]

“First Day”

Axel Cluney x Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of gore and violence 

(hello!! sry if this fic is total garbage and if Axel is OOC, i haven’t tried writing fics like this for a long time. just wanted to show my fav barf boy some love hehe)

Your first day as an honorary X-Force member was far from normal. Wade was beyond thrilled to have a new face on the team, even going as far to ensure you received the best training you could ask for. Your mutant ability made an interesting addition to the team. You had been born with abnormally sharp and long canine teeth, making dentist visits as a kid beyond horrifying Your dentist had put an unsuspecting finger in your mouth and you had nearly bit it clean off. He was fine after a multitude of stitches, but your mother was sure he stopped being a dentist after that. Wade had referred to you as “Toothy” and “Dracula” more times than you could count, Domino finally suggesting “Saber” as your superhero name. It had stuck, finally making you feel apart of the team.

Everyone was extremely kind and helpful, the other members frequently offering to train with you and assist you on missions. The only member you hadn’t worked with yet was “Zeitgeist” or Axel Cluney as you had come to know. He was definitely an intriguing individual, not to mention extremely intimidating. He was tall; his arms and shoulders decorated with...odd tattoos. The first day you met him was when Wade had first recruited you and brought you back to the X-Mansion and introduced you to the rest of the team. All the other X-Force members were making a fuss over you, excited to have a new face around and to act as your mentors. However, Axel was the only one who stood to the side and leaned against the door frame, observing you with a odd look on his face. You wanted to introduce yourself then, but the ‘eat shit and die’ tattoo peeking out from the front of his mesh tank top told you otherwise.

That had been a few months ago and you were officially done with your training today. You and him were acquainted, but never been on a mission together. Wade quickly noticed this and worked to immediately change that.

“(Your name), as an official member of the X-Force, today will be your first official mission.” he said, excitedly tugging your arm to get you to follow him into one of the many rooms in the house. An assortment of papers and folders were strewn across the table. Wade motioned for you to sit down with him as he began to explain your first mission.

“Nothing too crazy, just some asshole who’s disguising his corporate business as an underground human trafficking ring.” Wade said, sliding you a manilla folder. Upon opening the cover, you were met with a photo of the supposed man you were being sent after.

“He looks like he was born to do this.” you commented, noticing just how abnormally creepy this man was. Wade laughed at this and pointed to the address scrawled onto a post-it note on top of the picture.

“That’s your place.” he said. “It’s his warehouse about an two hours outside of the city. He should be there all day.” You nodded in understanding and stood up to go gather what you would need for the mission. Your weapons were kept mostly in the room they had assigned you, so you grabbed the dagger you kept under your bed. It probably wouldn’t be needed with your ability and all, but always a nice plan B. You went back downstairs and stopped halfway down when you saw who was standing with Wade. Axel was suited up for a mission, his bright green vomit-guard mask held in one hand. You hesitantly climbed down the rest of the stairs, already feeling apprehensive.

“As fuckin’ dandy as it would be to send you on this mission by yourself, I thought otherwise.” Wade said. “Barf boy here will be your babysitter-I mean partner.” Wade pushed the both of you towards the door to where your jet would be waiting. “Have fun, you crazy kids!” he called after the two of you. “And don’t even think about getting fresh with my student, ya fuckin’ clown!” The door slammed behind you guys. You awkwardly glanced at Axel, feeling embarrassment already beginning to bubble to the surface. He practically towered over you, his green eyes piercing into your own.

“Let’s go, then.” he said, making his way towards the jet. You stammered out in agreement, quickly following behind. You took a seat across from him and the jet’s door closed automatically as you sat down. It rumbled and shook as it shot into take-off, causing you to jerk backward as it did. Axel began to adjust his suit and pulled his mask over his mouth and eyes. You occasionally stole glances at him and watched his movements curiously. You felt awkward and wanted to discuss the mission, but you were afraid of being an annoying rookie who asked too many questions. He peered at you over his mask.

“Excited?” he called to you over the whir of the jet engine. You flashed him a small smile, your pointy teeth poking out as you did. He jokingly grinned back, his mask lifting with the movement of his smile. The two of you sat in silence until Axel stood up, the ramp of the jet lowering again, signalling it was time to go. Axel tossed you a parachute backpack and you attached it to yourself, adrenaline beginning to course through your veins as you approached the ramp.

“See you at the bottom!” Axel shouted, adjusting his parachute one last time and jumping off the ramp. You had made this jump numerous times on other missions, but you had never quite gotten used to it. You pulled goggles over your eyes and blinked furiously as if to snap yourself out of your fear. Your heart was practically forcing itself out of your chest as you took a deep breath and dove off the ramp. Wind whipped through your hair as you hurtled towards the open field coming into view below you. Axel was further down from you, simply a green spec from where you were in comparison. You saw his parachute burst from the pack attached to him and he began to float towards the field. You soon did the same thing, however not having much luck. The force of deploying your parachute jerked you to the right, sending you floating straight towards the woods near the field. You braced yourself for what was to come, half expecting you collide head first with it. To your dismay and embarrassment, your parachute became entangled with tree branches, leaving you dangling there like an idiot. Bright green leaves floated down from the impact you made, one sticking to your hair. You wracked your brain from how to get yourself out of this situation. Your mind instantly went to the dagger you brought, but it was in your belt, which was unreachable to how you were positioned. You also tried to unclip the pack from your chest, but it was ironically jammed.

“Axel..?” you pathetically called out, turning your head to see him walking towards you with his parachute trailing behind him. He unclipped it from himself, the parachute crumpling to the ground.

“How’s the weather up there?” he mocked, putting a hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up at you. You scowled at his comment, desperately trying to reach for your dagger again.

“Don’t just stand there!” you yelled, squirming around. “My dagger is in my belt pocket.” Axel chuckled. You were beyond embarrassed. This was your first mission with Axel and you had already made a huge scene. The tree wasn’t tall enough for him to have to climb up that far up and cut you down, so he was able to reach inside your belt pocket and grab your dagger. Luckily, he was tall enough to do so. He struggled to cut the rope that held you captive, the dagger barely making a dent. What kind of parachute was this damn durable? It seemed unrealistic. It also didn’t help that you didn’t sharpen your dagger enough this morning.

“Hold on,” Axel said, slipping the dagger back into your belt and stepping back. “Don’t move.” He moved behind you and the tree shake, then you heard him cough. You immediately realized what he was about to do.

“Wait, what the fu-”, You barely got out the rest of your sentence before you crashed to the ground. You turned around to see the ropes and part of the tree’s branches were eroded away. Axel approached you, turning on his head to spit on the ground.

“You absolute, fucking asshole!” you shouted, checking your body for burns. “You could have killed me!” Axel grinned and held out a hand to help you up.

“I know what I’m doing,” he responded. “I just spit on it a little.” You begrudgingly took his hand and dusted yourself off. The noise the two of you had made had caught some attention, four men were sprinting towards you, most likely henchmen. The warehouse was at least a mile away from where you guys had landed, meaning they had seen you come in. This mission was already a disaster.

“We got company.” Axel yelled, immediately running towards the group of men approaching the two of you. He projectile vomited on the first guy that got too close and the man screeched in agony, stumbling backwards and colliding with the others. You kicked into fighting mode and launched yourself at a guy who now had Axel in a headlock. You sunk your fangs into his neck, ripping out his jugular and sending a geyser of blood shooting into the air. You and Axel picked off the men fairly quickly, your fighting styles syncing up faster than you anticipated. It wasn’t long before you were surrounding by the corpses of the henchmen, the two of you spattered with blood. Your mouth had a dribble of blood dripping from it, which you promptly wiped away. The two of you began making your way towards the warehouse, keeping your eyes peeled for any more surprise visitors. The warehouse was huge, guards placed at every entrance. You and Axel crept along the border, keeping low and close to the woods. You spotted an entrance towards the back that could be a way in and nudged Axel to show him.

“That’ll draw too much attention,” he said. “We should try to get to the roof.” He pointed to a ladder that was close to the entrance your pointed out earlier. “There.” he whispered. He sprinted towards the ladder, climbing up it quickly and throwing himself onto the roof as quietly as he could. He laid low and waved frantically for you to follow. You made a mad dash for the ladder but a guard spotted you and tried to cut you off. You bowled him over, not wasting any time to bite down on his cheek. You forced yourself to get up and scrambled up the ladder. Breathing heavily, you watched Axel pull open a hatch door towards the center of the roof. You crawled over to him and peered down the hatch. It led straight into the warehouse and gave you  a clear shot into saving the women most likely being held captive there. You watched a man in a suit inspect a frail, underfed woman. She was being forced to stand up by a guard pointing a gun to her back. Other women cowered in fear as they watched the man inspect all of them. You assumed the man in the suit was your guy. You needed to take him and the rest of his men out, then get the women to safety. You couldn’t help but notice just how many henchmen this guy had, they were literally everywhere. It was going to be tough, especially it just being the two of you. You needed to be strategic. Axel must have seen the worried look on your face because surprisingly, he placed his hand over yours.

“Everything ok?” he questioned, looking concerned. He quickly retracted his hand looking sheepish, as if he had done that without meaning to. You nodded.

“There’s a lot of enemies.” you observed. “I’m just anxious that’s all.” Axel cracked his knuckles.

“We’ll be just fine.” he responded. “Just follow my lead and try to think of it as another training session.” You couldn’t help but smile. Your anxiety began to loosen its grip on you, giving you the confidence you needed to focus.

“Let’s fucking go.” you said. You jumped down into the warehouse, the man in the suit yelling out in surprise and the captured women screamed. You tackled him to the ground, your jaw snapping towards his face as he tried to push your face away. Bullets began to rain down as the henchmen tried to take you out, forcing you to duck for safety. Axel followed just after you did, spilling vomit from his mouth as he landed directly onto a guard running below him. He dove for safety as well, the crates placed sporadically around the warehouse providing minimal cover. The women were being forced outside by the man in the suit as he frantically looked over his shoulder. Axel began throwing punches and unleashing streams of vomit onto enemy after enemy. You quickly joined his side and you two began taking out enemies twice as fast. He would spew acid onto the floor, forcing henchmen to slip and fall. They would either get horribly burned from the vomit or stunned enough to give you time to land a swift bite to the neck. The two of you moved unpredictably fast, the bullets being shot at you almost unnoticeable. The henchmen were taken out in minutes, leaving only the man in the suit trying to force the women he had been keeping hostage into a large truck outside. Axel dashed ahead of you, grabbing the man from the front seat and throwing him to the ground. He cowered in fear, holding his shaking hands over his face. Axel stepped back to let you do the honors.

“Please,” he begged. “I have a family.” You approached him slowly, rage building up inside of you. “Plea-,” the man wasn’t able to get another word out because you had already wrapped your jaw around his neck.

“Rot in hell.” you said, spitting his own blood back at him as he sputtered and clasped his hands over the open wound on his neck.

The ride home had a different feel to it than when the mission had first started, for obvious reasons of course. You were mentally and physically exhausted. You and Axel sat next to each other this time, you being so tired, you hardly noticed that your knee was touching his. He became tense when you rested your head against his, but eventually relaxed. The two of you sat like that until you arrived back at the mansion. The women rescued from the warehouse were brought to the local police station, successfully marking the end of the mission. Wade threw open the door and pulled you and Axel into a group hug, chattering excitedly about how proud of you he was. The rest of X-Force congratulated you and asked you two questions about the mission. You later excused yourself to the bathroom to clean up. You stared at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you was someone you didn’t recognize.You were an X-Force member now. You were supposed to kill, but it never got any easier. You turned on the sink faucet and splashed water onto your face, the water tinged pink as the blood swirled down the drain. You dried off and opened the door to rejoin the rest of the team. You nearly jumped when you saw Axel waiting for you outside the door.

“Hey.” he said, giving you a small smile. “How are you?” You ran your hand through your hair, feeling some dried blood near the ends. You needed a shower. You suddenly were very aware of your physical appearance.

“I’m alright,” you said, giving him a shrug. “Just not entirely used to the gore..and the vomit.” You instantly regretted that last part. Axel chuckled.

“Trust me, it takes some getting used to.” he said. “But you’re tough.” You smiled, suddenly a swelling feeling rising from your chest. Axel was standing closer than usual to you. You both stood in silence for a moment before you broke it.

“Thanks for being my babysitter today,” you said. “You’re quite the partner.” Axel laughed.

“Any time, I’m open to doing it again.” he said. You walked past him before he called after you. “(Your name),” You turned to look back at him. “We should grab a drink sometime.”

“This weekend,” you said. “You can pick me up.” Axel did his best to hide his smile as he watched you go join the others.

“You got it.”

[comicteaparty]

June 14th, 2018 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party chat that occurred on June 14th, 2018, from 5PM - 7PM PDT.  The chat focused on Obelisk by Ashley McCammon.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

COMIC TEA PARTY START!

Good day everyone~! This week’s Comic Tea Party is now officially beginning~! Today we are discussing Obelisk by Ashley McCammon~! (http://www.obeliskcomic.com/) For those new or in need of a reminder, discussions about the comic are freeform, so please feel free to bring up whatever you wish. However, every 30 minutes I will be dropping in a discussion question to help those who would like a prompt. These questions are totally OPTIONAL to answer, and you can pay them no mind if you wish. If you miss out on any though, they’ll be pinned for the duration of the chat once they’re posted~! Remember, constructive criticism is allowed, but the primary focus here is to have fun and appreciate the amazing comics that the community makes~! As a bonus, each chat a top comment will be picked and featured in the archives and on an ad for CTP! All that being said, let’s get started and have a great discussion!

QUESTION 1. What is your favorite scene in the comic so far and why?

🌟Draco Plato🌟

The story has flowed so smoothly so far that it'd be hard for me to pick a certain scene as a favorite. I've really enjoyed the fluidity of the art, with it's beautiful backgrounds and very human seeming characters. Evie has been quite interesting to get to know so far and I'm looking forward to learning more about her as the story goes on.

Her hair has been particularly fascinating to me, I adore how it's drawn.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i appreciate how shes been drawn with a variety of hair styles and clothing. its one of those unnecessary details that can add a lot of life and make everything feel less like a video game.

but man the backgrounds. those are some heavily detailed backgrounds with a lot of love and care put into them and they really express the world so well

if i had to pick a favorite scene id pick when we meet margot. i really like the slight additions of red because something about the wispy way its drawn expressives a hint of...something sinister

🌟Draco Plato🌟

I really enjoyed that too, it also I think was the point where the real feel of the story came into play

and I think we really got a much better grasp on evie(edited)

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

yes though for eve's character i enjoyed the current page aftermath a bit more. if only cause i like that she kind of had a really human reaction to being told to butt out of things that weren't her business XD

🌟Draco Plato🌟

oh yeah, for sure!

I'm really looking forward to seeing where the current story arc is heading(edited)

zestwitch

I love the whole comic so far but I gotta say the way the party scene was drawn is so memorable for me, the panel variation is so creatively done and makes each page feel so energetic

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

I liked the scene where Eve was partly hung over and came into the kitchen and her brother regaled her with all the info off a casual remark. I think part of what made that stick too was realizing in the post-script how it was based on REAL history.

🌟Draco Plato🌟

the party scene was especially well done I thought too! Really captured the feeling of what being there would be like

zestwitch

The comic also has so many small details in the sidelines that make the world feel incredibly well rounded and rich like I can tell a ton of research was put into this and that makes me so much more excited about where it's going

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Speaking of how things are drawn, fascinating plan to really only have red be the outsider colour. Definitely makes certain things pop.

Yeah, I have no idea how much research was put into fashions and trends of the time period, but I have to imagine a ton.

🌟Draco Plato🌟

yeah i've researched that time quite a bit and you can really tell that the creator put a lot of work into accuracy

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Speaking as someone who has almost zero knowledge of the time period, I find I can still appreciate it.

In modern day, they'd be all over that concussion issue from falling off a stool.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i liked eve being hung over too just because how it was draw i think had subtle details other comics dont really capture when its depicted. like just the way her face is like "what is life i hate this damn sun why am i awake."

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Interesting how it led into the flashback memories too.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Oh hey there

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

hey super~!

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Glad to be here!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

yeah i thought it was interesting how the flashback memories were juxtaposed with that scene.

and how it transitioned to it

i also enjoy the hangover scene just cause i can relate to eve being partly aware of a thing but having no interest while the other person just rambles on passionately

and youre just like yeah okay

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

That may also be part of why I liked it. ^.-

I wonder if we'll meet this Alice.

🌟Draco Plato🌟

I really liked her hair and nightgown in the hang over scene

saetje

I agree the story flows so well it’s hard to pick a favorite scene- it’s also so early! But, if I’m honest? Margot’s introduction b/c dayyuuum

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

She did have a commanding presence.

saetje

my gay heart can’t handle her

I so appreciate all the research into costume and setting design as well! I simply adore period pieces so I appreciate the effort on that front

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Daww~

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

QUESTION 2. Throughout the comic we meet an interesting cast of side characters, from Eve’s friends to the seemingly criminal Peter Murphy to Agostino. Was there any side character that caught your eye, and if so why? When it comes to Peter and Agostino, do you think we will be seeing more of them? If so, in what way? Will Agostino’s interaction with Margot affect him in some dire way? What do you think will happen if Eve meets Peter? Why do you think Eve isn’t fond of her brother’s new fiancée? Are there any other character details you think the comic might explore?

saetje

I really liked Agostino’s reaction to Margot, it’s so foreboding. I most definitely feel we’ll be seeing all the characters that have introduced so far, again. I must say the story so far has so seamlessly and entertainingly set up many relationships, varied characters, and intrigue to delve into that it’s exciting waiting for what comes next!

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

I admit, I'm curious about seeing Eve and Alice... wondering what it is she's not fond of, whether it's something about personality or just the way she dresses and talks to her brother...

saetje

I just feel like they’ve set up a lot of questions we want answered all wrapped up in a varied and entertaining cast

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Agostino may be all hypnotized now.

saetje

yeah it’s possible- going a sort of Renfield on us?

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

yeah i do think weve got an interesting plate of characters going on here who are gonna have some future interesting and interactions with eve thatll take the story to unexpected places.

i really loved the way whatever happened to agostino was depicted

i can see why he freaked

though im really curious why only he was effected

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I do want to add in this story looks like it could be fun as a live action flick, seems like it could work

especially for it's early 1900's setting

saetje

I could see it adapted fairly well!

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

I'm pretty sure he was affected because it was his blood left behind when he moved the crate into the place initially. They've already got a sample of him.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Glad you agree, Saetje.

saetje

But the comic as the media for the story itself here is still done really well. I like how the author plays with visual narrative and panel flow

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Yea, it's done extremely well

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Interesting that the owners (possible vampires?) are into antiques. I'd figure it'd be something that they could collect more blood samples from.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

especially all the markerwork

saetje

Oh yeah. That was my take too, they already have some blood from him. But time will tell

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Though I guess if you've got all those children's toys left over from 300 years ago... ^.^

...Then again, they came overseas with only the one box. So idk.

Do you think all the sites being investigated are owned by the same group?

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

lol

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

To tie it back in, maybe that Peter guy is their broker.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

http://www.obeliskcomic.com/comic/chapter-1/p43/ OMG CUTE KID

Some quality family time. I hope everyone celebrating has a lovely holiday, and if not, I hope you have a lovely day anyway. I’ll see you all next week!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

maybe it wasnt so much that it was a blood connection thing but in that the blood told margot hed been to the shop before and therefore wanted him to gtfo. since he helped with delivery.

on a different note i do want to say im in math's corner and super want to know why eve doesnt care for alice O_O

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

I'm pretty sure she was gtfo-ing him, but I still feel like it was through the blood somehow.

Related to what SJ posted, maybe it's because Eve helped to raise her brother, and doesn't like that the status quo is being messed with? Though Alice could also be real shallow, who knows.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Perhaps

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Maybe Alice is also a vampire!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

that could be. and again could just be personality. maybe alice just tried to get eve to do lots of thing eve wasnt comfortable with in an attempt to bond. or maybe alice aggressively tries to set eve up with ppl

the mystery increases!

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

The town is going to be completely taken over by vampires. Eve will be the only real woman left.

It's like that old tv show about the pod people.

draculing

(I will confirm or deny nothing but I love seeing everyone's thoughts and theories so far )

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Hey there!

Pleased to see ya!

saetje

Welcome! Thanks for the lovely comic

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

And thank you as well~

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Hihi draculing! I like tossing out crazy theories, don't worry about me.

draculing

Hi~ I'm in and out a bit but it's good to be here

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

also omg Marghot looks so handsome~

draculing

The comic is still so early on its cool to see that people are already guessing at stuff

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

thanks for being here draculing~!

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Eve will win Margot's heart by teaching her to ride a bicycle.

draculing

And yes Margot is the Most handsome

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

She is and I love her (edited)

Everything about her looks and personality(edited)

she's so(edited)

dandy

draculing

She's a lady ;D

saetje

Yeah Margot is actually I was under the impression Margot is female? Or they-them?

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Well that's not the first time I'vewgotten my genders confused

draculing

Margot is a butch woman, dw i definitely get that a lot

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

lmao

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Heh. Probably the pants, I don't think ladies wore them much, but I know little to nothing of the time period.

saetje

Ok well I love Margot as I’ve said throughout this chat UM I can’t wait for vampire intrigue romance adventures

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

heehee~

And I made it to the end of the story so far

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

I get the vibe that Eve is into the ladies. The way she blushes sometimes, and is upset about not being married herself yet.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

It sure has come a long way since it first started~

saetje

I... completely read Eve as queer? She also hangs out with a cast of LGBT folks yes?

draculing

They wore pants (or bloomers like eve's bike pants) if they were doing sports or being tomboyish but it was still pretty rare and not looked on fondly

Actual men's clothing was not a thing for women yet except for in theater/music halls

saetje

Er- that being what her friend circle is/the party scene as about

draculing

Or yknow... gay circles

Yeah pretty much!

saetje

I appreciate all the research you’ve done into period clothing and setting!

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Oh really?

saetje

I really love horror/romance time periods and I love seeing all the different props and outfits

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Cool about the info. I'd ship Eve and Alice, just to be contrary, except we know they don't get along. Unless... that's just what they want others to think. (edited)

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I was actually about to ask how much you researched 1900's/1910's society and such

draculing

I wanted to establish that Eve has a social circle of other queer people and they aren't miserable or self hating

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

ooohhhh

saetje

I really appreciated the party scene tbh

draculing

Cuz thats all we ever get from historical settings usually

With lgbt characters

saetje

Yes!

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

LGBT characters are always welcome

saetje

As a queer person it meant a lot to me

draculing

Yeah its really personal to me and I'm glad it resonates!

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I'm pro-LGBT to the end.

saetje

Because I love time period pieces but so many gay romances or lgbt characters are so depressing in that setting. I enjoyed that Eve has a friend group that celebrated themselves and seemed happy

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

^

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

QUESTION 3. As Eve hunts down a lost property, she runs into the mysterious shop owner Margot who somehow bought one of her father’s properties. Who exactly is Margot do you think? Why do you think Margot has moved into the property now of all times, and why do you think Margot chose to run an antiques store? Why do you think Margot was so defensive about Eve’s questions (despite there being simpler, more polite answers as Eve points out)? Do you think Eve will continue to interrogate Margot for information, and do you think she will succeed? Do you think it’s even safe for Eve to interact with Margot given what happened to Agostino? Do you have any other theories about Margot?

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Margot is secretly a werewolf.

saetje

And I think it (the party scene) was a nice way to set up Eve as queer, it was, to me, obvious her preferences after the party scene without being voyeuristic or over the top of that makes sense? Just enough.

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Seriously though, she must be part of some syndicate or something. To get that shop set up in so little time.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I have a feeling it may have something to do with that ring.

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Or the djinn/genie inside it.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

If it's not her well-sculpted legs

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Or those of the djinn/genie.

So, actually, it's probably a bloodstone or something. I wonder if Eve will research.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Maybe.

I never thought "bloodstone"

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Actually.... is it possible that Margot or her syndicate killed Eve's father in the first place?

saetje

I get the feeling there’s going to be some romantic Margot/Eve back and forth and I look forward to that, but I think ultimately Margot will be dangerous- or at least as it’s set up now, every storytelling sign points foreboding when it comes to Margot(edited)

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

"Sign over this property. Good, excellent. Oh no, you fell down a flight of stairs."

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i feel like if they were responsible theyd know he was dead and not have the reaction that was had over it.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Yea

Thankfully he lived

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Well, we only know Margot's reaction.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i definitely forsee eve pestering margot more. cause im willing to bet shes either 1) going to run into a dead end making margot her only option for answers or 2) shes gonna find peter and peter is going to make her super duper suspicious by saying things like "you dont want to know nun ya business."

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

"I'm not a nun!"

Eve strikes me as the type who might lurk outside the place to see if other leads show up. That could make Margot decide to just tell her stuff to get rid of her, since "just go away" failed.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

oh i hope eve comes back and is like "im here to buy something you cant kick me out."

but yeah. margot is....isnt doing a good job of making her go away. there were so many better answers then the shifty eye nun ya business XD

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

That would be a clever way of doing things too. "The customer is always right." To be fair, Margot was pretty nice up front too, remarking on how she should have heard someone come in... it's only the details of how they got the place that seems to have vexed her.

saetje

Maybe she WANTS Eve to come back I feel like Margot knows how to throw a line and reel em in with intrigue and mystery

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Also, did Margot arrive in the box? Or was she simply hired to deal with some other dude who now lives upstairs who is a vampire? Maybe SHE'S under control, thanks to the ring. And Eve frees her from the evil spell.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Maybe

The personality seems to hit at it

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

"Only a kiss can save me from this vampire ring."

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i assume margot was in the box. i think margot is too commanding of a presence to be someone elses mindslave.

and thats true

it could be margot wants eve to come back

alternatively maybe margot hires peter and peter tells eve its in her best interest to stay away or something might happen to her brothers fiancee O_O

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

There is that, or at least not be taken in quite as quickly as seems to have been the case.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

and eve will be like "great good thing i dont like alice"

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

"You don't want to kiss me? Oh, I guess I'll simply have to get Alice to do it..." "You wouldn't dare."

Eve's brother walks in and is all, uhhhhhh....

saetje

I get the feeling it’s going to be Hattie/Eve

I felt like that was hinted at too in the party scene?

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

That's possible. I admit I'm bad for the names, as usual.

Also, I like going for the improbable ships.

saetje

Hattie is the blond friend who took her to the party and there was a panel where it was like their hands almost touched/had been holding and left etc. just feels like it’s possible we might have a romance starting with Eve and Hattie with Margot in there messing it up. But again- so early rn hard to make predictions!

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Yea.

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Makes sense... was she the one who opened the old wine?

saetje

Yes I think so!

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

'kk.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

i would like to see more of hattie before i put my eggs in that basket. i feel of all the friends she was the one i feel most distant from sadly :"D even though i thought her design was snazzy

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Yeah, it could be a one way relationship there.

Maybe that's why Eve hasn't been hanging with them as much...? I think that was implied.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

maybe although i assumed its cause shes still not quite over her father's death

grief does take time

QUESTION 4. As we learn from Eve, some documents on her father’s properties seem to be missing. Further, he seemed to know possible criminal Peter Murphy and mysterious Margot. Why and how do you think Eve’s father got involved with such people? Was it blackmail, some sort of under the table charity, or something else? Do you think his co-worker Alex knew about the dealings, or was it something private to Eve’s father? If it’s the latter, why do you believe he’d keep it a secret? Do you think Margot’s shop is the only missing property, or do you suspect Eve might find even more? Even if Eve finds the answers to all these questions, do you think she can or would do anything about the situation? Lastly, do these missing properties have anything to do with her father being dead?

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Right, that's a good point too. Though you'd think that you'd want others to help console you.

Her father was apparently really good with records and bookkeeping. Maybe he was doing some work on the side that turned out to be shadier than he thought... the flashback seemed to imply that they might have had money troubles. What with Dad not being able to pay the nanny enough wages to keep her on.

✨���� RebelVampire 🐱✨

could be. it was implied in that scene that he was also a single father too at that point right?

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

It was, yes. Maybe the mother died in childbirth?

So Dad took on shady business deals to help make ends meet. Probably why he sold off properties and kept it all locked in that box.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

that seems very plausible for how he got involved. albeit alternatively, maybe thats why they have money troubles

is that he was secret selling properties for a low cost and had to cover it up so it wouldnt be discovered

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

True, hard to say which came first. Oh, that's a good theory.

Maybe Peter knows him... just went into business for himself after the death...

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Maybe so.

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

peter and the dad were clearly best friends from primary O_O

im curious about his death cause i feel like it must have been unexpected? cause he certainly didnt clean up his affairs. in the sense that ya know he never said "eve by the way i sold some properties to vampires. surprise."

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Yeah, that's a good point. Things were left in something of a disarray at the business too.

Interesting how his daughter has been able to take over.

"She has a ... STAKE, in the business."

draculing

(Re: research question way earlier, I have a lot of 1900s fashion catalogue reprints and PDFs of 1890s-1900s sears catalogues!! I love.. clothing as personality.. so details are important to me)

Lmao niceee

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Oh wow, nifty. Is that part of why it's been set in the States, like that's where the catalogues are from?

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Oh nice!

That sounds like a good way to get research, all those old catalogues~

Make sure you keep em safe! I bet they'd be considered collectables in this day and age.

draculing

Nah I'm just from New Jersey ;; i grew up going into NYC and went to school there so I have a big attachment to the history and feel of it

Aw i dont have anything original sadly, it would be real cool if i did

saetje

I own a few Edwardian sears catalogues too and it’s such a treasure trove tbh. As I’ve said, I appreciate all the detail you’ve put into your costume and setting design. Every character’s clothing choices really does say something strong about them

draculing

Its also a good setting for like.. the immigration/othering themes often attached to vampire stories

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Aah

and yea that's understandable

saetje

Ohh that’s a cool take

draculing

It's not at the forefront of the narrative but each character's sort of.. class and life situation is involved in their design and that plays into it

Hopefully I'm not derailing the convo too much by jumping back to that!

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

That makes sense. Nope, just thinking theories over here.

Alice is secretly behind everything.

saetje

yeah we’re mostly just speculating based off what we have so far, it’s nice to get insight into the creation a bit!

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

nah your fine.

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Seconding saetje

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

I was also trying to think about when the New York World's Fair was, but it was like, 1939, so never mind. I don't know historical details.

draculing

I've had a lot of stuff where I've realized "wait this hasn't happened yet how weird"

Like... the titanic sinking

If my comic hits 1910 will it address that? We just don't know

*1912

saetje

is there anything like prop wise you’ve wanted to put in and then had to go “oh wait. Not invented yet”

draculing

Ohhh yeah for sure

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

XD

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Sliced bread?

saetje

Because I imagine there’s so many little things we take for granted now that they didn’t have back then

draculing

Or like.. finding references for very specific things??

saetje

Haha the bread point was too powerful

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Napples likes the historical bread.

draculing

Like "what does a cereal box in 1908 look like"

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

I'm curious now too lol

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

Gotta watch out for cereal killers.

draculing

Its little stuff that gets you

A lot of finding the closest approximation and then winging it like "hopefully some big history expert won't swoop in and yell at me"

The historical fiction police

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Heehee

Gotta keep all your facts 100% authentic

(and accurate)

draculing

It's a worry even though probably no one minds at all

saetje

Because vampires sure are real ha but I get it! You really want that authentic feel

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Yea All that matters is your readers have a good time and enjoy the story(edited)

saetje

But yeah unless someone is just being pedantic I don’t think you’re going to get mobbed for a small historical mistake

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Anyways seems like we're heading into the final minute of the CTP

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

tbf tho does happen. historical fiction police do tear things apart but theyre in the minority. i think you do a really great job and pay more attention to detail than a lot of other historical fiction ive seen.

MathTans the Pun 👑Prince👑

I don't notice such things at least. I enjoyed it.

Including the hairstyle, just to circle us all the way back. Nice crazy hair.

draculing

it's very cool and encouraging to see all your ideas about what's going on

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Anyways, thanks for the comic, Drac~! It was a fun read and I hope it grows nice and strong.

saetje

Fair fair. I just think people who call out details like that on indie creators are lame

draculing

Thank you for reading it!

saetje

And yeah! It’s a gorgeous comic!

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

^

saetje

I can’t wait to see what happens next!

Superjustingo of ✨Time🕑&Space☄✨

Me neither~(edited)

draculing

Can't believe we already spoiled that Margot is definitely a werewolf, the whole time

✨🐱 RebelVampire 🐱✨

COMIC TEA PARTY END!

Unfortunately, the scheduled Comic Tea Party time is now up~! Thank you everyone so much for reading and joining this week’s chat~! We want to give a special thank you to Ashley McCammon, as well, for making Obelisk and volunteering it for our reading queue. If you liked the comic, please be sure to support Ashley McCammon’s efforts however you’re able to. All that being said, if you would like to continue discussing this week’s comic, we highly encourage you to do so~!

For next week, Comic Tea Party will focus on Fate by Anthea West. As always, please use the next several days to read as much of the comic as you would like. We hope to see you next Thursday on June 21st from 5PM to 7PM PDT for the chat~! Until then, happy reading~! Comic: http://www.fatecomic.com/

[caredogstips]

The age of joke

The long speak: It used to be precisely a word now it is a way of life. But is it is necessary to get down the banter bus?

Its the most fucking laughable storey, isnt it? We went to watch fucking dolphins, and we ended up in fucking Syria. Last-place summertime in the Mediterranean party resort of Ayia Napa, Lewis Ellis was wielding as a guild rep. I represent, it was fucking 8am, he told an Australian website soon afterwards, and the last fucking golf-club had closed, and we remembered, We can still depart dolphin watching. Well blag our mode on to a fucking craft and croak dolphin watching.

But when the boat voyaged so far that Cyprus disappeared from panorama, Ellis explained, they started to worry. Why are we so far from tract? they questioned the crew. Were fucking miles away and weve got no fucking wifi. Something, Ellis said, had been lost in rendition; his exuberant season as a shepherd for the useds party pilgrims used to go terribly awry. The gang wasnt taking them to watch dolphins: they were going to a Russian naval basi in the towns of Tartus, on Syrias Mediterranean coast. Yeah, it is a little ridiculous.

It was , nonetheless, a fib that had legs. Hungover lads boat errand boob territory them in Syria, wahey-ed the Mirror; British holidaymakers board defendant barge in Ayia Napa and be brought to an end in war-torn SYRIA, laughed the Express. If you envisioned these headlines at the time, you may dimly remember the rest. A stubborn trawler captain, chugging doggedly onwards to Tartus, where he turfed the friends out upon territory; interrogation at the mitts of Russian intelligence officers; mutual hilarity as the Russians realised what had happened; and, after a red-hot banquet, a speedy tour of the expanse, and a good darkness sleep, spots on the next angling boat headed back to Cyprus. It was never made clear why the captain had let them on the craft in the first place, but whatever. Everyone lapped it up.

Reflecting on the whole circumstance five a few months later, Ellis, a 26 -year-old with a business position and a marketing lords, couldnt altogether wrap his head around it. I ponder I experienced 35 narratives about us, he told me. I read about myself in the Hawaiian Express, do you know what I symbolize?( Notwithstanding that there is nothing to doesnt appear to be any such newspaper, yes, I emphatically do .)

What became it really weird to see the media pile in with such unstinting passion was that the storey was total cobblers. I could not belief how unsophisticated they were, Ellis said, a top memo of hilarity still in his tone. We were just having a chortle! It was banter!

Lads: this is the age of joke. Its long been somewhat about the banter, but over the last few years, it has come to seem that its all about the banter an unabashedly bumptious posture that took up a position on the outskirts of different cultures in the early 90 s and has been larging its road towards the centre ever since. “Theres” hundreds of banter groups on Facebook, from Banter Britain( no memes insinuating child abuse/ dead children !!!) to Wanker Banter 18+( Have a laugh and keep it sick) to the Premier League Banter Page( The only ruler: keep it banter ). You can buy an I banter jugs on Amazon for 9, or an Archbishop of Banterbury T-shirt for 9.99.

There are now four sprigs of a restaurant announced Scoff& Banter. When circumstances were going badly at Chelsea FC under Jos Mourinho, it was reported the team had banned all joke in an attempt to focus their subconscious, and that word appeared in the newspapers, as if you would know exactly what it entail. Person has created a banter map of London using a keyword scour on the flatshare website SpareRoom, indicating exactly where people “re looking for a” roommate with good banter( Clapham tends to facet prominently ). When a 26 -year-old man from Leeds constituted for a selfie with a baffled aeroplane hijacker, Vice swore it the high-water rating of banter.

Lewis Ellis( left) and friends in Ayia Napa, pretending to be in Syria. Photograph: Lewis Ellis

If you are younger than about 35, you are likely to hear the expression all the time. Either you have banter( if you are funny and can take a pun) or you dont( if you arent and cannot ). The mainstream, in summary, is now drink and asleep on the sofa, and banter is delightedly drawing a penis on its forehead.

As banter has risen, it has expanded. Long a word used to describe submerged sayings of fraternal charity, it is now likewise a word allows one to excuse uninhibited exhibitions of masculine bravado. Today, it is segregated by class, seized on by brands, picked over by psychologists, and regretted by culture reviewers; it is dominant, fiercely contested and exclusively hazily understood.

And so, whether he purposes it to or not, Ellis use of the expression parent some questions. Is he shedding his pile in with the most prevalent division of the blokeish mainstream, a sanitised and gracious gaiety that elongates from lad-dad panel shows to your teammates zinger about your dreadful haircut? Or is he lining up with the misogynist impersonators of the Bullingdon club, a sprinkling of prejudiceds, and, as we shall identify, an actual murderer purveyors of a malicious and insidious masculinity that insists on its indivisible dominion and calls you a slut if you object?

Ellis isnt preoccupied by these questions, but for what its worth, he does say that he and his friends never had the slightest planned of going to Syria. We werent actually trying to clown anyone, he told me, although Im not sure thats wholly consistent with the facts of the case. We were out for a saunter, and we went across this area that gazed actually run down, we thought it was like Syria. So we apply it on the team reps[ Facebook] page that thats where we were. And everyone started liking it. And then one of the people who contacted us was from LADBible which is like the Bible, but for LADS so we pronounced, well have a mess around here. Well tell a completely ridiculous tale, see if the media believes it. Find if we can become LADBible famous.

It did, we are able to. Eventually, the truth “re coming out” , not thanks to any especially determined investigative journalism, but because Ellis cheerily admitted on Facebook that his narration of superb foolishnes was a story. Hahaha what a prank, he wrote, with some justification.

The confession simply raised another repetition of notice. Books that had picked up the legend in the first place resurfaced it with new headlines to manifest the daring of the fabrication; social media useds adduced it as evidence for their own views of young men, or the media, or both. The Russian delegation Twitter account announced it a telling illustration of how many Syria( and Russia) stories are made up by UK newspapers, which was great geopolitical banter. The courtesy entertained Ellis, but he alleges it wasnt the stage. We simply thought it was funny, he responded. People are too serious. I hinder being told to grow up, but I still want to have a good time. Ive had the jobs, Ive got the education. But when Im off production, I want to escape.

Ellis is an enthusiast and an optimist. He is, he told me late last year, hopeless to take every opportunity, simply to enunciate yes to everything I can. We were on a nighttime out in Manchester with his pals Tyson, John and Chris. In such courses of the evening, the following circumstances knew their mode into my brew: fingers; salt; vinegar; mayonnaise; a chip; saliva; a 10 greenback; and, I hazily recollect being told after the fact, at the least two shootings of vodka.

Everyones got a thought in the group, Ellis said, as we walked from one saloon to the next. One person, hes not even that ugly, we say he looks just like a Peperami. Tysons get this mole on his appearance, its like a Coco Pop, so youve got a Coco Pop on your appearance. I looked like Harry Potter when I was a kid, so they announce me Potter, thats my moniker. Every single one of us has something. So you youve gone Chinese attentions. Youre Chinese.

For the record, I didnt think this was OK, but coming after such a harmless litany, it didnt seem malicious enough to confront. Of course, tacit promotion is what shapes such offensive epithets a platitude, and so it is a matter of concern that it saw “i m feeling” mysteriously accepted, just as it had when John perforated me softly in the pellets when I arrived. There was no doubting Elliss candour: as he spoke, the sheer daft beautiful of male friendship seems to astounded him, almost to the point of physical suffering. We just take the piss out of each other, and thats how we establish our passion , he spoke. So many group converses on the phone, and you just take the piss until they cry . And its like, when youre certainly killing them, you go, Ill stop if you miss, because you know they cant say yes, so you exactly keep going. Then we arrived at the next rail, where I was made to drink something called a Zombie.

Early in the evening, before any of this had eroded my ability to take helpful notes, Ellis smashed off from talking as we moved down wall street and sidled into a window display at Next Home, where he Tracey Emined a carefully established bottom by climbing into it and reeling around. Everyone cracked up. Contribute “the worlds” a shriek, Ellis tends to think, and the world will smile back at you. Jump on a craft, and youll end up somewhere enormous; stimulate the boat up, and youll got to get faster. Its all about having fun, its all about the banter, he articulated, after hed rejoined us outside. Banter is about realise “the worlds” a more exciting place.

If nobody can agree on what joke is, thats scarcely a new difficulty. The first habit of the word recorded in the Oxford English Dictionary comes from memo Restoration lad Thomas dUrfey, also known for his hit hymn The Fart, in a sarcastic 1677 participate called Madam Fickle. Banter him, banter him, Toby, a character called Zechiel urges, which may be the first time that someone called Toby was so instructed, but certainly wasnt the last.

The OED also notes early attempts at a description by Jonathan Swift and Samuel Johnson.( Speedy mentions a banter upon transubstantiation, in which a cork is turned into a horse, and fair enough, revolving a stopper into a mare “wouldve been” classic joke .) Both “re a bit” disgusted by the word, and neither unearths often of an origin narrative: by their chronicles, joke is so coarse that it rose, amply structured and without antecedent, out of the mouths of oafs.

As it is about to change, though, the OED is not at present amply able to handle the banter. According to Eleanor Maier, an associate editor on the dictionary, a research of earlier English texts reveals that a number of previous patterns are missing from the dictionarys definition, which is now being first drafted in 1885 including a quote from a 1657 rendition of Don Quixote.( After examining the history, Maier told him that she would be adding banter to the listing of introductions that are up for evaluate .)

dougie stew (@ DougieStew)

Welcome to London #BagelGate pic.twitter.com/ KcJoz0ycZU

February 26, 2017

In recent years, joke has barged into our lives at a impressive time. Googles Ngram Viewer, a implement that assesses( with some limitations) the frequency with which a period shall be published in a large database of written sources, finds that banter popped up approximately twice as often in 2008, the most recent year plowed, as it did in 1980.

But banter plugged away for a very long time before it became an overnight success. In the 19 th century, it often designated a kind of formal sparring. Even as the term progressed over the 20 th, it continued to seem a bit prissy. In the House of Commons in 1936, Ramsay MacDonald, the former Labour prime minister who had recalled in a brand-new sit after losing his old one, was subjected to a great deal of banter Dear old-time Granny MacDonald !, among other witticisms.In 1981, a Guardian report that chess champion Anatoly Karpov and his handlers have succeeded in protested at his challenger Viktor Korchnois constant cross-board talk ran under the unlikely headline: Chess joke banned.

Such floors do little to prepare us for what banter has become. Consider the viral video that became known as #bagelgate earlier this year. In the recording, a minor hassle broke out on the 00.54 improve from Kings Cross to Huntingdon, and then for no plainly related rationale the status of women who had a large crate of bagels decided to put one on the heads of state of the person sitting in front of her, and then another after “hes taking” it off and hurled it out of the window, and another and another, and then everyone in the carriage started chanting hes got a bagel on his head, and eventually the slightly spoddy prey who is me when I was 13 and someone filled my pencil client with Mr Kipling apple pies( squashed, exuding) because I was fatty completely lost and hollered Get the fuck out of my appearance !, and then another campaign broke out on the programme, and then the police got on to the teach, and every single person fell into not-me-guv stillnes: this is not Granny MacDonalds joke any more.

If it is hard to understand how these activities can fall under the same umbrella, it should be noted that a phenomenon may predate our choice of expression to describe it its precisely that the act of description draws it most visible, and perhaps more likely to be imitated. At some place, though, joke became the call for what British boys already regarded as their natural tone of voice. There is a very deeply embedded folk culture in the UK of public ribaldry, extreme satire, facetiousness in other words, of laddishness, speaks Tony Thorne, a linguist and cultural historian. What you might think of as banter now is rooted in that tradition.

That tradition firstly flogged itself to banters mast in the early 1990 s, and polemic soon followed. In June 1992, a Guardian storey headlined Police fire sex banter officer, about the removal of a sergeant for sexual harassment, entered an early skirmish in the modern banter battles, and its significant brand-new bed to its meaning in the wild: The move is seen as part of the Metropolitan polices desire to reassure women officers that what has previously been tolerated as banter is greater acceptable. Two year later, the cubs mags arrived.

The first edition of Loaded magazine appeared in May 1994, with a picture of Gary Oldman on the figurehead inhaling a dog-end, under a placard that showed him a super cub. What fresh crazines is this? the editors note spoken. Loaded is a new publication dedicated to life, liberty and the endeavours of fornication, booze, football and less serious matters Loaded is for “the mens” who guesses he can do anything, if merely he wasnt hungover.

If banter chagrins you, James Brown, the magazines firstly writer, is quite an easy bogeyman. As he recognise himself, he composed a claim that defined a genre. Loaded was swiftly recognised as a foundational text for a resurgent and exuberant masculinity that had been searching for public showing. While it was always overtly horny, the publication was initially more interested in a lonesome, slackjawed and self-ironising acknowledgment of -Alisters( one reversible posting had Cindy Crawford on one side and a steam train on the other) than the grot-plus-football formula that successors and imitators like Maxim, Zoo and Nuts milked to shattering. But the committee is also flirted with something murkier.

To its pundits, Loaded and its imitators aimed to sanitise any particular hooliganistic worldview with a tactical renunciation. Banter emerges as this relentless gloss of incongruity over everything, told Bethan Benwell, elderly lecturer in speech and linguistics at the University of Stirling and the author of several newspapers on mens publications. The constant explain of sexist or homophobic feelings with this winking that says you dont really mean it. Benwell drawn attention to Loadeds emblematic strapline: For men who should know better.

Brown is denying that his periodical fabricated banter. Instead, he tells, it captured a zeitgeist that the media had previously failed to acknowledge; the kinfolk culture that Tony Thorne refers to, brought forward into the open. Before Browns intervention, GQ had extended John Major and Michael Heseltine as embrace hotshots, for Gods sake. I took the advantages and the mentality of the young men that I knew, and I give them in a publication, Brown suggested. Im not responsible for the atmosphere of the later entrants to the market. We were criticised because we fancied wives , not because we maligned them.

The thing about Loaded was that the mode we wrote manifested the way we were with our mates, he went on. Theres definitely a act that exists in the male outlook: you take the piss out of the person or persons you like, and you ignore the people you dont.

Accept this as your starting point, and dissents become exhausting to prolong: what youre objecting to is an behave of affection. Of route, “its what” stimulates it insidious. Because Browns account remainders on the intention behind the publication, and Benwells on the effect it had, they are impossible to reconcile. Its a very difficult act to withstand or objection without looking like the stereotypical humourless feminist, said Benwell. But by laughing, you are complicit.

Loaded leaved this new various kinds of banter escape velocity, and it has started to colonise other worlds. On BBC2, for example, David Baddiel and Frank Skinner were staking out their own territory with Fantasy Football League, a mixture of sketches and personality chit-chat that managed to be enthusiastic and satirical at the same occasion, and reached its peak when the pair became national icons, thanks to their Euro 96 chant, Three Lions. While a long-running joke about the Nottingham Forest striker Jason Lees pineapple haircut seems flatly racist in retrospect Baddiel did an impression of him in blackface by and large, the colour was milder and more conventional than the publications were: this was the insight of colleges and universities graduate slumming it before starting on grown-up life.

Baddiel implied that laddism is likely to be dominates a range from ogling to literature, depicting a line to Nick Hornbys memoir of life as an Arsenal fan, Fever Pitch. Hornby formerly said to me that all this stuff you are familiar with, imagination football and his journal is gentlemen speak about things that they like and for a while in the mid-8 0s they werent allowed to, he said in 1995. Ive always liked football and Ive always liked naked women, and its easier to talk about that now than it was eight years ago. Those explains manifest a kind of sneer at its pundits that you could often detect in Fantasy Football League, even as its hosts protested that they were just having a laugh though Baddiel himself is denying that view. Twenty times on, he, like Brown, is at hurtings to draw a line between the approach that he and Skinner popularised, and the forms that arose afterward. I approximate me and Frank did specialise in joke, he said in an email. In a hour before it was known as bantz.

Over the next 10 times, two things happened that ushered in persons under the age of joke.( You might call it matured joke, except that its too the opposite .) First, instead of just has become a circumstance that happened, it became a situation that people talked about. Then, as it became a more tangible culture make, everyone started trying to make money out of it. The watershed instant, the forms equivalent to Dylan extending electric, was the invention of Dave.

Like most good theories, it examines simple enough in retrospect. Before Dave was Dave, it was UKTV Gold 2. The precede channels gathering share was 0.761%, and no one could tell who on globe it was supposed to be for. But we had the contents, remarks Steve North, the channels brand director in 2007 and content of a specific kind that the existing appoint did very little to communicate: Have I Got News for You, They Belief Its All Over, Top Gear. Sees said they adoration the repartee, the comedy. It reminded them of spending time with their funniest friends.

The first issue of Loaded magazine, from May 1994

The target audience was highly specific. It was men marriage or in relationships, maybe with young children , not going to the inn as much as they used to, enunciates Andy Bryant, managing director of Red Bee, relevant agencies brought in to work on the rebrand. And they missed that camaraderie.

Their purpose thus fixed, North started to run brainstorming periods at which people would shout out recommendations for the call. One of the ones we compiled was Dave, he enunciates. We felt, enormous, but we cant call it that. But then we reputed, Its a replacement friend. If the audience really pictures it as that, if they see it as genuinely providing the banter, maybe we can really pay it a name.

They employed their hunch through its paces. The market research corporation YouGov was commissioned to test Dave alongside a cluster of other refers( Matthew and Kevin were also on the shortlist ), but nothing else had the same everyman resonance. For us, Dave is a sensibility, a place, an spirit, a sense, announced North, his tone astute, virtually gnomic. Everyone has their own gumption of who Dave is, thats the important thing. Its difficult to find anyone who doesnt know someone called Dave.

Now the channel had a firebrand, it needed a motto. Lots of people claim they played a part in the identify, announces Bryant. But it was just as important to encapsulate what the channel was all about. And at some part someone, I dont was well known that, wrote it on members of the board: The dwelling of funny joke. The rebrand contributed 8m brand-new spectators in six months; Dave watched a 71% increase in its target audience of affluent young men.

Conceived by the first generation of senior professionals to have grown up with joke as an unremarkable part of their demographics culture desegregate, the canal crystallised a change, and accelerated it. In 2006, The Ricky Gervais Show, in which Gervais and Stephen Merchant relentlessly poked fun at their in-house jerk savant Karl Pilkington, became the most popular podcast of all time. In 2007, its first year of Daves rebrand, Top Gears ratings shoot from below 5m to a record high-pitched of 8m. The following year, QI moved from BBC4 to BBC2.( A tie-in volume written the same year, QI: Advanced Banter, sold more than 125,000 transcripts .)

North checked the kind of fraternal pestering that was being monetised by his canal, and the panel shows that were its lifeblood, as fundamentally benign. The key happening is that its two-way, he responded. Its about two parties riffing off each other.

But like his 20 th-century forebears, he can see that something ugly has advanced, and he wants to keep his brand well away from it. Bants, he added with dislike. That circumstance of cover for dubious behaviour we detest and hate it massively. When we propelled, it was about enjoyable, being light-hearted, maybe pushing one another without being disrespectful. When people talk about Ive had a go at that person, great banter no, thats just nasty.

By the become of the decade, as other labelling bureaux simulated the success of Dave, banter was everywhere, a folk tradition that had acquired a strange kind of respectability. The all those people who celebrated it werent precisely fellows in the inn any more: they had spending ability and organisation allies on their surface. But they were, by the same token, more visible to commentators. Invasion from an underdog can be overlooked; aggressivenes from the establishment is serious enough to become a matter of public concern.

Take Richard Keys and Andy Gray, Sky Sports brand-defining football presenters, who got themselves up to their cervixes in some highly bad joke in 2011. Keys accused dark armies, but everybody else blamed him and Gray for being misogynists. We knew this because there was footage.

The firestorm, as Keys called it, centred on claims that the two men had said and done heinously sexist acts off-air. Most memorable, at the least for its phrase-making, was the time in which Keys eagerly requested his fellow pundit Jamie Redknapp if hed smashed it it being a woman and asserted that he could often be found hanging out the back of it.

Gray became promptly. In the days before he followed, Keys burned hot with sin in a series of mea-sorta-culpas, specially focused on the strip in which he conveyed his derision at the idea that the status of women, Sian Massey-Ellis, could be an aide referee in the Premier League.

It was just banter , he suggested. Or, more exactly, just a bit of joke, as he mentioned Massey-Ellis had assured him she understood in a later telephone conversation in which, he added, much joke elapsed between us. She and I enjoyed some joke, he protested. It was lads-mag joke, he contended. It was stone-age banter, he acknowledged. We liked to have banter, he explained. Richard Keys was sorry if you were offended, but likewise, it wasnt his faulting if you didnt get onto. It was just banter, for goodness sake!

Up to their necks in some particularly bad banter Andy Gray and Richard Keys in 2011. Picture: Richard Saker/ Rex

Keys insistence that his correct was simply a failure to move with the times was nothing new: banter has always seemed to carry a longing for the past, for the purposes of an guessed age before male love was so cramped by the tedious obligations of feminist scrutiny. But while his underlying deems were painfully dated, his thought of joke was only modern: a sly expansion of the words signify, and a self-conscious contention that it provided an impregnable defence.

The Keys variation understood banter, first, as a catch-all means of disavowing responsibility if someone was hurt; and, second, as a means of reinforcing a bail between two beings by being cruel about a third. The comparison wouldnt satisfy got a couple of alphas like Keys and Gray, but both strategies accompanied it closer to a style of communicating with classically feminine associations: gossip. Deborah Cameron, the Rupert Murdoch( lol) Professor in Language and Communication at Oxford University, argues that the two modes of interaction follow basically the same organization. People gab as a trust competition, she alleged. You tell someone your unsayable private secret, and it bonds you closer together. Theyre supposed to do now reciprocate with a confidence of their own. Well, banter works in the same way now. You say something appalling, and you see if the other person dares to top your remark.

The trust game in joke was traditionally is expected to be: do you trust me when I read were friends in spite of the aim circumstances Im replying about you? But now theres two seconds version of the game: do I trust you not to tell anyone the mean thoughts Im announcing about other parties? I repute initially it was a harmless event, enunciated Cameron, whose analysis is rooted in an repository of male group conversation, predominantly entered by her students, that goes back to the 1980 s. But then it started to be used as an excuse when gentlemen were caught out fully participate in forms of it that werent so harmless.

It comes down to context and meaning, says the comedian Bridget Christie. The gentler pattern of joke is still knocking around, she suggested, but now it exists alongside something darker: I obtained The Inbetweeners youngster banter hilarious, because it was equal and unthreatening. But there is obviously a world of difference between a group of teenage boys benignly taking the piss out of each other, and a bigot being racist or misogynist and trying to pass it off as a joke.

Trace the rise of banter, and you will find that it corresponds to the rise of political correctness or, anyway, to the backlash against political correctness gone mad. That word and just joke reflect each other perfectly: one denoting a priggish culture that is deemed to have overreached, the other a laid-back culture that is deemed to have been unfairly reined in. Ironically enough, merely joke does exactly what it alleges political correctness of, seeking to close down argument by say to you that making is settled by category rather than material. Political correctness is saying that a racist prank is mainly racist, whereas banter asserts that a racist pun is mainly a pun. In the past, the men who use it rarely had to define it, or to explain themselves to anybody else. Today, in contrast, it is mentioned all the time. The biggest change isnt the banter itself, remarks Bethan Benwell. Its the explicit call of the word as a disclaimer.

By sheer repetition and by its give as an unanswerable defense, joke has altered from an abstract into a vast and calcified description of wars as well as texts: started from a lane of talking to a way of life, a form that inadvertently became a worldview. He joked you, people sometimes remark: you always used to banter with your copulates, but now it often sounds like something you do to them. Once it was directionless, inconclusive yak with wit as the engine that drove it, said the comedian Russell Kane. Now, if I errand you up, thats banter.

You might think the mortification suffers from Keys and Gray would have constituted banter less plea as a get-out, but not a bit of it. Banter, increasingly, seems like the first sanctuary of the indefensible. In 2014, Malky Mackay, who had been fired as manager of Cardiff City Football Club a year earlier, was caught having transported textbook that referred to Chinese beings devouring bird-dogs, black people being criminals, Jewish people being avaricious, and lesbian parties being snakes all of which were initially optimistically defended by the League Managers Association as letting off steam to a friend during some friendly text letter banter. The comedian Dapper Laughs, whose real identify is Daniel OReilly, established himself as jokes rat king, with his very own ITV2 display, and then completely lost after he suggested that an audience member at one of his gigs was gagging for a assault. A man was convicted of assassinate after he mashed his friend against a wall with a Jeep Cherokee after an disagreement over badger-baiting, a course of action that he added had been intended as banter. Another trounced the throat of someone he had met in a pub and described the accident as a few moments of joke after 14 or 15 pints. Both are now in prison.

By any sane quantity, joke was falling into dishonor, as often a disguise for malice as a word for the ribaldry of fellows on the lash. Still it did not go away: instead, the worst of it has mutated again, insisting its expert in public and saving its creepiest partialities for the shadows or, at the least, for the company of five, or 10, or 20 of your closest mates.

At the London School of Economics, it started with a circular. Each year at the universitys freshers fair, LSE Rugby Football Club shared a banterous primer on rugby culture. In October 2014, suggests the then-president of the student solidarity, Nona Buckley-Irvine, a student has now come to her in tears with a emulate in her hand. The brochure “was talkin about a” trollops, slags, crumpet, mingers, and the desirability of misogyny; there were legislating cites to the frights of lesbian mortification and outright lesbian gluttony. Anyone charmed by all this was invited to sign up for the team and meet the banter register, entitling them to participate in the exchange of chappish email conversation.

To anyone with a run knowledge of university laddism, it was hard to suppose a more everyday iteration. Still, after the unreconstructed chappishness of the circular has now come to sunlight, the association knew it had a problem. It questioned a collective justification admitted that we have a lot to learn about the injurious effects of joke, and promised to organise a workshop. But there are still reason to be sceptical about the magnitude of that commitment.

When Buckley-Irvine and her peers published a report on the accident, they memo a fibre of others, including an antisemitic assault on a university ski tour to Val dIsere in 2011. And there were other follies it didnt mention. According to two people who were present, one club dinner at an Indian restaurant on Brick Lane ended with a stripper having bottles thrown at her when, already intimidated, she refused to take her invests off. She obscured in the toilet, and had to be escorted out by a member of staff as the team vandalised the restaurant.

Photograph: Alamy

According to five people who were either members of the rugby society or closely associated with it, one notorious elderly member was widely thought to be responsible for the booklet.( He did not respond to requests for explain .) But when they came to defend themselves to the student uniting, members of the squad fell back on one of “the worlds largest” revered mainstays of laddism: all for one, one for all. Theyd clearly worked out a line, mentions Nona Buckley-Irvine. No private individuals was responsible. They were sorry. It was just joke. Thats what they all said.

The accountancy firm KPMG, which sponsored colleges and universities wider Athletics Union, “ve decided that” banter was not an specially helpful firebrand association, and moved funding merit 22,000. The students uniting decided to disband the golf-club for the academic year. The decision moved some commentators to disgust. It was a gross overreaction, a former unit member told me. We were the best-behaved unit when it came to actually playing rugbies but they censored that bit and they couldnt proscribe any of the rest.

Others took a less measured tint. I had old-fashioned members emailing me and calling me a tyrant, articulates Buckley-Irvine. Expecting me if I didnt understand that it was just joke. Rugby actors sung mistreat at her on nights out, she told me. They shoulder-barged her, and called her a cunt.

These kinds of interactions would tend to take place on Wednesdays, also known as boasts night, at a prohibit in Leicester Square. Sports night was the apotheosis of the rugby organizations bleak solidarity. In homage to what you might call the wingers-before-mingers code, for example, representatives from the squad who were expected to dress in dress werent allowed to speak to women before 9pm. So they would just holler abuse instead, one girl former student, who Ill call Anna, remembered. One chant, she replied, get, Nine nos and a yes is a yes. At the time, Anna thought that it was all a pun. Beings would say, Its precisely banter all the time. After everything. Absolutely everything, she spoke, sitting in a cafe in south London. If you were convening someone brand-new, saying they had good banter, that was a reasonably high congratulate. Whereas if you dont go along with that material, its seen as, you cant take the chat, you cant take the banter. And its not to be considered as having a stance against it. Its seen as not being able to keep up.

After the rugby squad was disbanded , good-for-nothing much altered in plays night social life. Many members of the club still went on the same darkness out; they are only colonised other squads. They still addressed girlfriends as Sarah 2 or Sarah 8 depending on how attractive they considered them out of 10; they are continuing had shouted speeches about their copulation lives in front of the women they had slept with but refused to acknowledge.

That culture was not confined to Wednesday nights. Anna recollects a person who took her portrait as she slept, naked, in the bunk they were sharing, and circulated it to another non-university plays crew via WhatsApp. She wasnt meant to see it on his phone.

Ask anyone well-informed where joke resides now, and theyll give the same reaction: WhatsApp groups and email yarns, the safe seats of the lad class. What youd get out of those WhatsApp threads, its a different world of drama, one former member of the football club pronounced. The details of girls people that youd read, a few amusing jibes, that was the limit for me. But where reference is moved on to, like, really, really bad trash, always about sex it was too much. Those strands are the source of everything.

If the threads were an store, they were by no means the limit. Banter, by common consent, wasnt confined to lampooning each other: it was about action. If you dressed up for a night out, one girl student remembered, “its just” kind of status quo that you could have your arse grab. It was just like, Oh, that was kind of strange, but OK, thatll happen. Like everybody else willing to speak about it, her position of that culture was perplexingly nuanced, sometimes self-contradictory. It seems spooky, she said, but that tell me anything, some of my best nighttimes were there, and like it was enjoyable. But then she enunciated: What was defined as serious just got so pushed . I envision for someone to lodge a complaint they would have to be actually hurt.

Anna recollects lots of sketchy incidents. She remembers nighttimes when her choices faded into a blur, and she wondered if she had really been in control. But at the time, I would never call it out, she remarked. And then, youre all living in vestibules together, and the next day, its like: What did you do last nighttime? Thats funny. Thats banter.

When Anna thinks about the behaviour of some of “the mens” she knew at university, she find it hard to pin down exactly what she recalls of them. Theres one in particular who sticks in her recollection. On a Wednesday night, he was a joke person, she told. He was a Wednesday animal. But the rest of the time, he was my friend.

Controversial though all this was at the time , no one seems to think that it will have expenditure the perpetrators often. Ive tried so hard to leave all that behind, said the former is part of the football crew. But those guys theyre all going on to run banks, or the two countries, or whatever. The senior rugby boy who numerous held responsible, by the way, has territory on his hoofs. Today, he has a activity at KPMG.

In 2017, every new instance of banter is immediately discerned and put through the journalistic wringer.( Immorality Joel Golby, who wrote the definitive verse on the bagel thing, has made a career from his exquisite close readings of the structure .) But when each new absolute myth rises, we dont typically have the context to shape the essential points finding: do the proponents tend towards the harmless excitement of Ellis and his copulates, or the frank hatred of the LSE rugby boys? Is their affection of irony straightforward, or a mask for something else?

As Richard Keys and Dapper Laughs and their cohorts have polluted the idea of joke, the commercial entities that endorsed its rise had now become uneasy with the label. They wanted it to go viral; they hadnt expected it to runs postal. Dave, for example, has plunged the residence of funny banter slogan. Its not about classic male mood any more, its a bit smarter, alleges UKTVs Steve North. We certainly say it less than we used to.

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Calm down, Game of Thrones followers, spoilers aren’t the end of the world | Gareth McLean

Fans were livid when Ian McShane let slip some forthcoming plan details but surely spoilers simply sharpen the appetite

Loose lips allows one to subside carries. Of course, this was back when most events mattered, in the 20 th century when we had world wars and menaces of nuclear armageddon. But even living with the ever-present danger of being subjected to dissolving up like the characters off Threads, it at least felt as if parties were worrying about the right things. Scarier, but somehow simpler times.

Today, it seems that our collective psychological barometer is so out of hit that while most people seem to be entirely sanguine about the arriving tragedy of climate change, they fuss, fear, rampage and are concerned about “the worlds largest” banal, insignificant happens. With no carries to scupper, it seems that careless whisperings still injure, but they do more damage to people gratification of their favourite Tv programs than anything. Sometimes youd were of the view that spoilers were a short bounce from hate speech.

Actor Ian McShane is the latest to feel his audiences wrath specific, love of Game of Thrones. For, in the course of doing interviews to publicise the brand-new serial( position done there, Ian, well done !) McShane let slip some major details of the upcoming floors that infuriated some. This advance knowledge would have been hard enough for most Game of Thrones followers can be a po-faced bunch. That McShane then lent revile to injury by rejecting the serial as nonsense about tits and dragons did nothing to alleviate followers furrowed brows.

At this stage, Im not entirely sure what their displeasure is comprised of. Itll either be the vengeful carnage of his entire family on what should have been a glad daylight for them, or itll be some croak on Twitter and some very detailed line drawing of him in reputation. Either space, its a lesson that he wont forget in a hurry.

You may, quite rightly, be allowed to attribute the incommensurate sorenes about spoilers to the irate souls wonky internal barometer because in my own experience, it is always incommensurate exasperation that responds the unwieldy resound of a dropped spoiler. Attributing this( over) reaction to the other persons dodgy mental wire would be a great way to avoid accepting any blame: this person who I thought was my friend and is now very upset because I disclosed who Kylo Ren really is in Star Wars is clearly an excitable and knotty nightmare and I must henceforth avoid them.

But such theory doesnt assistant where reference is not just their disproportionate response you have to deal with. There are your own more. The regret “youre feeling” if, just for example, you accidentally made a acquaintance whos a big fan of The Good Wife far too much notes the fact that Will Gardner was going to be killed off? Its icky and sticky and, every so often, it pops back into your premier to remind you that you devastated a friends pleasure of something they liked. Then, perhaps because you have a tendency to catastrophise, it isnt long before you decide that youre a socially clumsy nitwit that no one really likes regardless. Every avalanche starts with one snowflake.

But I cant help but think that this singular prickliness about spoilers is insane and old-fashioned. True , no one wants every twist and turn of a brand-new drama or novel telegraphed to them but most people want to be intrigued, to be tantalised, to be tantalized. Theres a pleasure to be had in a certain kind of advised prospect, of knowing the floor already a spectacular irony.

The last-place performance of the last Shakespeare play would have been hundreds of years ago if people were wired not to want to hear the same storeys, or versions of them, over and over again. We take more consolation in familiar floors than their familiarity reproductions disregard in us. Theres something about being accustomed to a narrative that can be reassure, even if the narrative itself is dark, distressing or difficult.

And thats as true of real life as it is of myth. Its one of the reason why so many secreted captives reoffend to get sent back to jail its the only narrative they are aware, and theres convenience in it. And its why the cold war was bewildering there was a perverse convenience to be had living in the shade of mutually assured termination, a consolation that numerous Americans evidently still miss if the notoriety of Donald Trumps sabre-rattling is anything to go by.

And Id argue that spoilers have a part to play in sharpening cravings, creating anticipation, placing panoramas. After all, most of us are grown-ups now and, as sure as we know that happy-ever-afters dont subsist, we should also know that having advance knowledge of scheme twistings does not annul further viewing of the programme in question. Because story what happens isnt the same as that used legend why what happens happens. The real grist of a storey its heart and soul and bones isnt the events that undid or the incidents that occur: its how the specific characteristics deal with whats happening to them.

Stories arent enormous or compelling or timeless because dramatic stuffs happen in them. Theyre great and dramatic and compelling because of how the characters cope with their lives. And in personas lives and fights, we attend our own. If a few spoilers peril a storys vitality, it genuinely wasnt often of a legend in the beginning. Likewise, stuns are overrated. A surprise is just a disturbance that you have to look pleased about.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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