#also you may have noticed things did get demonstrably worse as a result of his policies!
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I understand not liking all of Harris's policies. I understand not wanting her as president. I understand believing she will not improve things for the vast majority of people. what I don't understand is looking at the two choices we have and choosing to focus on how much she will not help, because if we're honest at worst she will maintain status quo, whereas Trump is vying to make it worse. like at a certain point you gotta man up and understand that sometimes you're not voting for who wins but rather who loses. why would you rather Harris lose than Trump
#uspol#this has been a post#also please note that I am not saying the status quo is good! it's terrible in a lot of ways for most people!#why would you want it to get worse#'we already survived one trump presidency' a lot of people didn't!!!!#also you may have noticed things did get demonstrably worse as a result of his policies!#there's a lot I hate about the Democratic Party. and their policies and the things that aren't THEIR policy but that they're too weak#or apathetic to change#I wish we had more than a two party system#but that won't happen without election reform
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This hangs some details on a rant I was going to release after they buried him in the cold, cold ground. (It's been long enough I'm starting to wonder if some patriot at Arlington is making excuses not to take him.)
"Foreign policy realism" turns out to not be realistic after all.
Henry Kissinger's obituary in the NYT wasn't half the fawning apologist trainwreck we all expected it to be, but they did bend over backwards to present his side of the argument, what he was thinking all those decades, based on interviews with many of his friends, co-workers, and his students at Harvard:
Kissinger's WWII experiences convinced him that America was the most moral and trustworthy country in the world. And, he reasoned, that is why the President of the United States should be able to give an order to anybody in the world, in any country, and reasonably expect to be obeyed. And since the evil countries won't want to acknowledge the American president as the Leader of the World, not only is he morally allowed to do whatever it takes to get his way, he's morally required to do so.
Which was what he was thinking when he taught "foreign policy realism" both in the halls of power and in the halls of the Ivy League schools, which meant that, given a range of options, he was always, every time, on the side that would result in the most innocent civilian deaths. The more innocent civilian deaths there are, the faster other countries will have to do the right and moral thing: accept the moral superiority and moral authority of the President of the United States.
To describe this as merely incoherent is to fail to notice the most idiotic part of it:
Every time a US president or secretary of state or CIA covert operations director, on Kissinger's advice, murdered tens or hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians, every single time, the result was the opposite of what Kissinger predicted it would be. At best, we replaced bad governments with worse. At worst, you can trace the origin story of every single one of the worst terrorist groups in the world to the results of Kissingerist "realism." And, even more appallingly to me, ...
Kissinger gave this same stupid, evil advice every few years for sixty years without learning a thing from his failures. Sixty years' worth of US leadership followed his bad advice and never even paid any attention to his track record. It's the same old disgusting cognitive bias over and over again: it takes no evidence to believe what you already want to believe, and no amount of evidence can disprove something once you've already made up your mind.
It's why, among other things, there's never any consequence to being demonstrably wrong in politics or elite journalism: if you were telling people in power that their darkest impulses are good and right, and it turns out you were wrong, that can't possibly be your fault, because "nobody could possibly have known" it wouldn't work, no "reasonable person" would have thought you were wrong. Nor can it be the fault of people who were persuaded by his "foreign policy realism" because "everybody knew" he was always right, knew it so confidently they never looked back and checked.
So I apologize to Henry Kissinger's family and friends for not letting them grieve, but if they're going to keep postponing the funeral service, I can't stay silent forever. Henry Kissinger was a monster, because he made the people he touched even more monstrous than they already were, and no matter how early he had died, I would have wished it had been sooner, and may the hallowed ground of Arlington spit out his evil corpse, and may his ghost spend eternity in a customized torture pit in the fiery depths of Tartarus as a warning to the next 100 generations that his kind of "realism" isn't just evil, that being a "foreign policy realist" isn't just monstrous, but it's also demonstrably, historically, really, really stupid. Psychopathic callousness isn't "realism." It doesn't even WORK.
VOR: Henry Kissinger
Ugh, HUGELY overrated, Bismark has nothing on him. What, truly are his accomplishments? Oh, rapprochement with China? You mean the country that had just experienced a huge split with the Soviet Union, to the point where they were scared of military conflict, that was simultaneously backing North Vietnam in a war against the US? And so we opened doors to them and gave them literally everything they asked for, hanging Taiwan out to dry, and in return got absolutely nothing; China's aid to North Vietnam actually *increased* the year after? The corpse of a roadkill dog could have done that.
The "cease fire" with North Vietnam? That's just losing with coat of paint to poorly cover the shame! At least he had the self-respect to try to return his Nobel Peace prize. Ho Chi Minh handed him his ass on a platter and somehow that is a win on his ledger.
Accelerating arms sales to the Shah of Iran in order to back separatist fighters in Iraq? Whoops! Wow, that uh, wow what a call there. Really picked the right side.
Coup against Allende in Chile? That went well! Not to mention...he didn't. Chile coup'd Chile, Allende was a complete disaster imploding the country's economy. The Chilean military asked for permission as like a token gesture, we gave them support that didn't matter. Its like taking credit for a sports team win because you bought box seats, except at this game they dropped the opposing team's family out of a helicopter headfirst onto the pitch.
All the SALT treaty stuff started under Johnson, he continued it which is fine but is VORcel stuff. His grand "pivot to Europe" was trying to link trade policy to increases in defense spending from European partners...which didn't happen. They didn't increase them. We gave them trade deals anyway. Its fucking Trump without the memes.
On March 1, 1973, Kissinger stated, "The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.
Awww "I'm such a cool little edgy boy, look at me and my joke about the Holocaust when discussing systemic discrimination against Jews the Soviet Union, surely this will somehow score me Realpolitik points on the Big Board that I can cash in for prize money while shedding America's moral legitimacy because it makes my dick hard."
He is the academic definition of style over substance, snottily walking from fuck-up to disaster to status-quo free ride and putting a pithy quote about The Nature of Power over it to pretend he had any to begin with. Hurry up and die already so I can stop running into you haggling over hostess tips at overpriced Georgetown restaurants.
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Penny Polendina alludes to Astro Boy - and how this allusion foreshadows Penny’s eventual resurrection
Some of you may remember my first post in which I compared Penny and Astro Boy, with a specific focus on the version of Astro from the 2009 3D animated film (if not, you can read it here, but I'll be repeating everything stated there anyway). In the month or two since I first made that post, more and more parallels have start to pop up, with one of those parallels matching one of our most popular theories and foreshadowing Penny's upcoming resurrection.
In order to write this, I went through and watched the entire film, taking notes as I went. I'm not going to include every single detail that I noticed, only the things that seem the most relevant and can be put together in a single post in a comprehensive manner. Believe me when I say that I've thought about this a lot, and the sheer amount of parallels and connections (and the fact that I'm not the only one to notice these connections) has lead me to believe that this has been done intentionally.
With that being said, I'm only going to focus on the Astro Boy film from 2009 - the Astro Boy franchise is massive, going back to the first manga coming out in 1952 with a few different adaptations and reboots with different versions of the story, and I just don't have the time to go through all of those. As such, I'm going to be focusing on the movie, due to the fact that it has the highest amount of parallels to both Penny specifically, and RWBY as a whole.
So, let's get into this.
Worldbuilding
Metro City and the Surface - Atlas and Mantle
One of the reasons I've decided to focus on the film in particular is due to the nature of the film's setting. Astro Boy (2009) takes place in two locations - Metro City, and the Surface.
According to the opening of the film, Metro City was created when the people who would become the founders of the city noticed the world changing for the worse, and responded by taking part of the land and lifting it into the sky, creating a floating city - the opening voiceover refers to it as "an oasis, a floating paradise". Everybody else is left behind on what is referred to as the Surface, left to fend for themselves while the people of Metro City largely ignore their existence.
The parallels to Atlas and Mantle are crystal clear. Atlas and Metro City are both set up as a beautiful city above the clouds, meant to serve as an inspiration for the rest of the world. In reality, it's a place where the rich and privileged can live in comfort while shunning the poor. Meanwhile, down in Mantle/on the Surface, people are suffering and struggling to get by. Additionally, both 'surface' and 'mantle' are words that are associated with the ground.
The Blue Core (and the Red Core) - Penny's soul and Maiden powers.
Another concept that is (as far as my research shows at least) unique to the film is the Blue Core and the Red Core.
The Blue Core is a small sphere that is filled with pure positive energy, referred to as Blue Core Energy. It was created by Dr. Elefun, made from the fragments of a star that no longer exists - meaning that the Blue Core is all that's left, and cannot be recreated. This is reminiscent of how Pietro has no more aura left to spare, and thus is unable to give any more of his soul to Penny like he did the first time she died. In this allusion, the Blue Core is representative of Penny's soul and the power of the Winter Maiden.
When the Blue Core was created, there was also a byproduct - the Red Core. Essentially, it's the same thing as the Blue Core, but with negative energy instead of positive. If the Blue Core and the Red Core make contact, they both die - this is relevant later.
You could compare the Red Core to Watts’ virus, due to the way that it causes a robot to have red eyes and that it coming into contact with the Blue Core destroys them both.
Character Parallels
Before I get into this properly, I wanna give a quick side note. While Astro matches up to Penny perfectly, things get a little bit messier with the others in that we have a case of characters taking on multiple roles. However, this is far from unheard of in RWBY - let's not forget about how Blake represents both Belle and the Beast, Yang is sometimes the Beast to Blake's Belle, and Adam is an amalgamation of every antagonistic force in Beauty and the Beast. It's far from uncommon for a character to allude to multiple characters from the same allusion, or vice versa, which is what we see with some of the characters in this allusion as well.
Astro - Penny Polendina
Unsurprisingly, Astro himself is our parallel to Penny.
After the death of his son Toby, Dr. Tenma rebuilds his son as a robot, using the Blue Core as his energy source. The Blue Core is stated to be unpredictable, and it's this that makes Astro who he is, what makes him unique from every other robot. As stated earlier, the Blue Core represents Penny's soul (and the Winter Maiden powers that are attached to it). When the Blue Core dies - and Astro dies with it - and Dr. Elefun is asked if he can be rebuilt, the answer is 'no' because the Core was unique and can't be remade - just like Penny's soul.
While Astro appears perfectly human on the surface, he's fitted with as much self-defence technology as Tenma could fit in him. The most iconic of these upgrades (and the only one that's consistent across every single version of Astro throughout the franchise) is the rocket boots. He even flies in a very similar way to Penny - pay attention to the posing, especially with the legs.
When Astro starts making friends with humans on the Surface, he conceals the fact that he's a robot, afraid of what they'll think of him when they learn he's not human. This matches up to Penny initially hiding the fact that she's not human, seeing herself as 'not a real girl'.
Astro has two father figures - Dr. Elefun and Dr. Tenma. Similarly, Penny has two father figures - Pietro and Ironwood.
During the climax of the film, Metro City starts to fall out of the sky and back down to the Surface. This is a parallel to two seperate moments in RWBY. The most obvious one is when Atlas is falling onto Mantle after the Staff of Creation is used. However, I think this scene more closely resembles the scene from Amity in which Amity Tower begins to fall.
When Astro sees that Metro City is falling, he immediately flies in to hold it up, despite the incredible strain it puts on him. This is a direct parallel to how Penny flew in to hold up Amity Tower.
Astro pushes himself to the limit when he holds up Metro City, to the point where the flames from his boots burn so brightly that they turn blue - oh hey, doesn't that look familiar?
Astro also demonstrates self-sacrificial tendencies at a few points in the film. When he's captured in order to have his Blue Core taken out and placed into another robot, he simply accepts it, saying that "I think maybe this is what's supposed to happen...this is my destiny". This becomes a lot more interesting when you remember that the Blue Core is representative of Penny's soul and Maiden powers. Astro giving himself up to President Stone (the film's main antagonist who later ends up in a sort of 'fusion' with the Red Core) so that Stone can use the Blue Core could be a reference to the virus making Penny want to give herself up to Ironwood so that he can use her soul to open the vault - especially if we believe that the Red Core is connected to the virus in some way.
Near the end of the film, in the fight against the fusion of President Stone and a giant robot containing the Red Core (it's a long story, I'll get to it later in the post), Astro makes the decision to sacrifice his own life in order to destroy both the Red Core and the Blue Core, saying “this is what I was created for” and saving the lives of everybody else in the process. I doubt I need to explain how "choosing to die in order to protect other people" relates back to Penny in Volume 8.
At the end of the film, and in the rest of the Astro Boy franchise as a whole, Astro takes it upon himself to be the protector of Metro City (and technically the Surface, but since Metro City has fallen, they're not exactly seperate locations anymore...). 'Robotic guardian of a city who's seen as a hero by the people' - you don't get much more obvious of a connection to the Protector of Mantle than that.
Additional details that may not be intentional but I still noticed anyway;
- Dr. Elefun describes as Astro by saying "That robot had more humanity than most of us". At this point, there's been many moments that affirm Penny's humanity - "You have an aura, Penny. A soul. That's who you are - our friend. Not a machine", "Her soul is who she is", the fact that she was able to receive the Maiden powers, all of these moments affirm that Penny has always been just as human as anybody else. This is also contrasted against Ironwood (and, for a while, Winter), who act more machine than human.
- Astro is actually rather heavily trans-coded. Penny is also trans-coded, but this is mostly likely a coincidence that happened as a result of the inherent transness of robots
- Elefun tells Astro that he's "not actually an entirely ordinary boy", which is reminiscent of Ruby describing Penny as "she's...not your typical girl."
- The shape of Penny's bow (the way that it sticks out more on one side while the other side is more vertical) looks similar to the shape of Astro's hair (this one was pointed out to me by @cosmokyrin when I mentioned this theory in the Frosen Steel server)
Dr. Elefun - Pietro Polendina
Dr. Elefun is one of Metro City's top scientists, and one of Astro's father figures. He is soft-spoken and gentle, a dreamer but a genius. In terms of personality alone, he's a pretty good match with Pietro. He's also the one who created the Blue Core, which draws a direct parallel to Pietro creating Penny's soul from part of his.
Dr. Elefun is the first person to truly see Astro as who he truly is. Dr. Tenma expects Astro to be a replacement for Toby, and is disappointed when he isn't. Similarly, everybody else sees Astro as a robot just like any other at first - an advanced robot, but nothing more than a robot. But Dr. Elefun gives him genuine praise, and encourages Astro to live his life and find his place in the world, just like how Pietro tells Penny that he wants to see her live her life.
It's also worth noting that in most other versions of Astro Boy, Elefun takes the role of Astro's primary caregiver after Dr. Tenma no longer wants him.
President Stone - James Ironwood
President Stone is the current political leader of Metro City. For the entire film, his entire focus is on combat and military strength, and on multiple occasions he actively expresses his intention to start a war with the Surface. He believes that the best way to get re-elected is with a show of military force and violence.
His primary goal throughout the film is to have Astro destroyed in order to retrieve the Blue Core and use it for his own gain. This is a direct parallel to Ironwood's goal in Volume 8 - to hunt down Penny and have her use her Maiden power to open the vault, and destroy herself.
Stone wants to use the Blue Core in order to power a specialised combat robot, ironically called the Peacekeeper. When Astro continues to escape his clutches, he decides to use the Red Core to power the Peacekeeper instead, but it doesn't completely go as planned. The Peacekeeper is equipped with what the film calls 'adaptive technology' - it's capable of absorbing anything it makes contact with into its own body.
And I do mean anything
After Stone is absorbed by the Peacekeeper, he's in full control of it - essentially the Peacekeeper is nothing more than a metal outer shell. President Stone has become a fusion of man and machine.
Dr. Tenma - both Pietro Polendina AND James Ironwood (a bit more Pietro than Ironwood but it's worth acknowledging both)
You might notice that while Elefun and Stone do have plenty of references to Pietro and Ironwood respectively, there are gaps where they don't cover every aspect of these characters and/or their dynamic with Penny. This is where Dr. Tenma comes in.
Dr. Tenma is Astro's dad, and the one who built him. He originally created Astro as a sort of 'replacement' for his biological son Toby after he died, giving Astro all of Toby's memories (more on this later). Naturally, this is a very clear connection to Pietro.
Additionally, Dr. Tenma uses the Blue Core - a completely unique, one-of-a-kind technological marvel - in order to power a single small robot that's intended to be nothing more than a replacement for his son, saying "I can't lose him again!". In this moment, Dr. Tenma is so focused on not losing his child that he doesn't acknowledge the big picture.
However, once Dr. Tenma realises that Astro isn't a perfect replica of Toby, but rather his own person, Tenma discards him, not caring if Astro gets destroyed or not. Similarly, when Penny stopped doing what Ironwood wanted her to do, Ironwood stopped caring about her as anything more than a container for the Maiden powers and is perfectly willing to let her die once the vault is opened.
Luckily, Dr. Tenma does have a change of heart, deciding that while Astro isn't Toby, he's still his son. Near the end of the film, Astro is very injured, and Dr. Tenma encourages him to get far away from the danger. However, Astro refuses to back down, instead choosing to sacrifice his life in order to stop President Stone, despite Dr. Tenma begging him not to go. Here, we have yet another parallel to this moment in Amity.
Bonus (aka characters that aren't perfect allusions, but connections do exist)
When Astro ends up on the Surface, he's taken in by a man who calls himself Hamegg. Hamegg ends up being a jerk, and while his personality and actions in the film don't particularly match up with any characters in RWBY, his backstory is a perfect match to Watts - a head scientist in Metro City who was shunned and fired for reasons unknown (Hamegg claims that they were 'intimated by his ideas and talent', but this was when he was trying to impress Astro and he lies a lot anyway, so this could be a complete lie).
On the Surface, Astro befriends four human kids (Cora, Zane, Sludge and Widget) and their robotic dog, Trashcan. While the personalities don't really match up (though Cora, Astro's closest friend, does bear a visual resemblance to Ruby), the idea of a 4-person group + a dog could be a parallel to Team RWBY and Zwei.
Zog is a very old, very large robot that had been 'dead' for several years until Astro found him and revived him by giving him some of his Blue Core Energy. Zog is our allusion to Winter - Astro giving Zog some of his Blue Core energy is a parallel to Penny giving Winter the Maiden powers. Additionally, in The Final Word, Winter explicitly calls herself a machine. While this does have significance on it's own, it could also be a nod to this allusion. That being said, the main connection between Winter and Zog (and possibly the most important part of this post) is based on events that have yet to happen in RWBY canon, and so I'm saving that part for the end of the post.
Story Parallels
Toby's Death
Toby Tenma, Dr. Tenma's biological son, was very similar to Astro in terms of personality (with some key differences), as well as having a strong physical resemblance.
When the Blue Core and the Red Core were first being shown off to President Stone, Toby was accidentally locked behind a sealed off barrier, trapped with the Peacekeeper containing the Red Core. Toby was killed in a blast that completely disintegrated him, leaving nothing but a hat containing a single strand of hair.
This hair is important, because Dr. Tenma used this hair in order to extract Toby's DNA and memories, which he was then able to implant into Astro in order to make him resemble Toby.
This scene is most likely a parallel to Penny's first death in the Vytal Festival. In her first death, Penny's body was destroyed, but her core remained intact. Her core, which contained all of her memories, was the key piece in properly putting her back together without erasing who she used to be. The strand of hair containing Toby's DNA is representative of Penny's core containing her memories.
Additionally, there's the fact that when Toby was rebuilt as Astro, he was given various upgrades to allow him to better hold his own in a fight, with the most obvious behind the ability to fly via rocket boots. Penny received similar upgrades when she was rebuilt as well.
It's worth acknowledging that Toby's death could potentially parallel the moment that Ambrosius separated Penny from her robotic body, with the strand of hair instead being her soul, separated from her dying body and then disintegrating. However, due to the timeline and order of events, I think that Toby's death is more likely to be a parallel to Penny's first death, and her separation from her robot body is instead a parallel to the next scene I'm about to mention.
Momentary Death
When Astro is captured by President Stone and taken back to Metro City, Dr. Tenma actually does remove the Blue Core from his body, which does cause Astro to temporarily die.
Luckily, it only takes a few moments for Dr. Tenma to change his mind and return the Blue Core to Astro, reviving him.
Astro's 'soul' was removed from his body, causing that robotic body to die, even though in the end Astro does survive it. This is reminiscent of Ambrosius removing Penny's soul from her robotic body, letting that body die, while Penny survives.
Zog
I briefly went over Zog earlier, but I wanna go into more in-depth about him, because the parallels between Winter and Zog and the implications of said parallels are the main reason I ultimately decided to make this post.
As I said earlier, Zog is a very old, broken down robot that nobody has been able to revive in years. When Astro finds him, he brings him back to life by giving him some of his Blue Core Energy. Astro essentially gives Zog some of his lifeforce, a part of his soul.
Winter was on the verge of death at Ironwood's hands, but Penny was able to save her by giving her the Maiden powers, and her soul with them.
However, Zog doesn't keep all of the Blue Core Energy Astro gave him all to himself...
Resurrection
As I've mentioned a few times in this post, Astro does die - and I mean properly die, not a death that lasted 2 minutes at the most and had no consequences. Astro sacrifices himself and his Blue Core dies, all in attempts to protect the people of Metro City/the Surface and his friends. Dr. Elefun says that he can't be rebuilt because his Blue Core, his soul, was unique.
But then, Zog comes around. Zog, who is holding onto what is a part of Astro's soul - the only surviving part of Astro's soul. Zog returns some of the Blue Core Energy to Astro, which brings Astro back to life.
So, to recap: Astro gives a part of his lifeforce, part of his soul, to Zog. When Astro dies, Zog gives some of that soul back to Astro in order to revive him.
If you've been looking at the theories regarding Penny and Winter recently, this will sound VERY familiar. While the specifics vary, the essentials of the most popular theory is that Penny transferred her soul to Winter to hold on to along with the Maiden powers, and that somehow, Winter will return that soul to Penny in one way or another (either by putting her into another robotic body, or just somehow extracting her soul and letting it form it's own body again). The fact that this movie has these exact events occurring makes this seem more and more like the most likely route.
If Penny really is an intentional allusion to Astro Boy - which, based on the sheer length of this post, seems pretty damn likely - then the film practically spells it out for us. Winter will give part of her aura, the part that Penny gave her, in order to bring Penny back to life.
thank you for coming to my ted talk
#rwby#penny polendina#rwby v8#rwby theory#rwby volume 8#I've spent the past 2 days working on this#but the amount of parallels is insane#there's lots of bits and pieces I left out too#combine this with Pinocchio's three resurrections and the Narnia/Aslan theory and that's three allusions that foreshadow Penny's return#honestly I was just kinda chilling in my room yesterday when suddenly the scene with Zog came to me and I yelled HOLY SHIT out loud-#-because I realised it was the exact same scenario#there's probably some typos here and i could've included more pictures but like...it's 4am#and this thing is like 4000 words
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[2021.08.22] Kitamura Kento (Hibari) 17LIVE livestream
(I live translated his stream, so there may be details I'm missing/misheard.)
Starting remarks:
He wants to play Hibari more
He usually has great memories of the plays he's worked on, but not quite for this one; It doesn't feel like it ended yet.
He feels like they can do the play again, do the future arc again
His little bro is a big fan of Amano's works, especially KHR, so he's very familiar with this series
His brother is babysitting in the US, so he sends him clips of the play lol
It's only been half a year since he started Twitter and he appreciates all the support (likes, RTs, replies)
His faves are Dino and Primo in the manga. He loves their visuals. He thinks they look cool.
He actually wants to play as Primo lmao
Was excited when he heard James was playing Dino; he's worked with him in at least 3 plays (?, Hakuouki SSL, Hataraki Saibou); Met the first time in a while thanks to this stage
Q&A Section:
Q: Why do you have so many Hibird photos in your makeup area?
A: They're from Yamamoto Ryosuke! Ryosuke receives a Hibird photo from the production team every performance, so he gives them all to Kento since he's Hibari after all. He has around 8 of them. Sometimes Ryosuke forgets to give it to him and he feels unnecessarily disappointed lmao
Q: Thoughts on receiving Hibari's role A: First he wondered a lot about how he'd portray Hibari's fighting style, and tried to portray his cloud-like, untouchable feeling. Kento was set on fighting with "pauses" and "urgency" for Hibari. Hibari's the fastest in thinking and acting, like that time when everyone was panicking about Byakuran's attack, while Hibari immediately left to check on Namimori since that's where the attack landed.
Hibari can also be misleading. When the Real 6 Funeral wreaths landed at Namimori, he was first to speak. However, just when you think he was going to propose a plan, he just states that one of them landed in Namimori, which makes you wonder just how much he loves the place haha.
That unexpectedness makes him interesting to the viewers. He tends to speak, pause in the middle, and then change his tone/aura when he continues his sentence.
Q: Thoughts on Hibari before and after playing him A: He talked about this in his blog post. After playing him, he thinks of other people more than you'd expect. He acts to protect Namimori, and as a result, saves people.
Q: Have you planned the curtain call interactions with Ryohei and Lambo beforehand? A: Nope. That was all thanks to Kimeru adlibbing, and Kento has no idea when Ryohei will jump in lol.
On a tangent, but he very much admires Kimeru for perfectly playing his role. He has already perfected the role even when they just started rehearsing. He has the formula for Lambo down pat. This makes it easy for someone to copy and stand in for him during rehearsals.
Q: Can you share more info on the action parts? A: Every week he gets the stunts instructor to teach him something new, then he practices it on his own for the rest of the week.
Apparently, he practiced while facing a tree at the park, haha. A lot of people commented, saying they want to be the tree. He was like, "No way lol". There were so many people wanting to become trees that he said they were going to turn into a forest lol.
He then talks in detail about how to do a roundhouse kick properly lmao. The left leg/standing leg is important apparently lmao. He repeats this sentence a couple of times and demonstrates it with his fingers.
Sometimes he got tired after doing it so many times. However, when he started doing 1 hour stretches everyday, it became a lot easier.
Does aftercare? (Is that the right term to use here? haha) after practice because it's a lot of strain on his left leg and arm.
Q: What are your similarities with Hibari? A: He likes to do things on his own. Hyperfocused on what he likes. Is stubborn.
He likes to have a lot of preparation before taking something on...
He'll leave when he feels like leaving, lol
Q: Thoughts on Tsuna and Hibari's relationship, and your relationship with Takenaka Ryohei A: Tsuna is an important person in Present and Future Hibari's life.
Takenaka Ryohei is amazing. He has a different reaction to Present Hibari and TYL Hibari and he can really see and feel it... Ryohei's act really contributes to Kento's own acting. It's because Ryohei reacted that way that Hibari seems even more fearsome.
Ryohei can portray Tsuna's fear of TYL!Hibari, but then also show a different reaction when he stops Present!Hibari during Choice.
Usually, it should be the protagonist who would do something proactively while everyone else reacts. As the protagonist, but it's hard to give large reactions. However, in KHR, it's often Tsuna who reacts. It's because Tsuna reacts in a certain way that you can figure out what type of person the other character is. Ryohei is amazing for being able to do that role.
Q: Was it you playing as Alaude's silhouette? A: Yes. Yamamoto also played as Ugetsu.
Random tidbit: At the part where Deisy gets caught with the huge handcuffs, they didn't have those huge handcuffs until they were at the venue lol. So they've been practicing without it until then.
That's why his actions during that scene slowly started to change, since he began to have ideas on what else he could do at that scene.
Q: Thoughts on the Hibari switch scene A: He asked viewers when they realized it wasn't Kento as Hibari onstage? On their first watch? During the stream?
Daiki tried really hard to copy Kento's Hibari, like his walk so people wouldn't catch on. Was really happy when it was decided Daiki was the one who'll be his body double. He actually thought it would be an ensemble doing it, until 2 weeks (?) into rehearsals
Q: Happenings onstage? A: He doesn't really want to talk about it... However, after he turned 25, he's become more open to his mistakes so he can talk about this now haha.
When wearing suits, he wants to look suave and used to wearing them. Having the box in his pants pocket ruins the silhouette of the suit, and so would placing it in his chest pocket, even though the latter seems cool. He talked with the costume designers to add some sort of leather pouch (?) at his waist.
However, after putting the box in and out of the pouch so many times, the leather pouch worse out and became looser. In one performance, the box dropped to the floor sometime without his notice. ("Roll rolled." LOL)
During his fight with Genkishi, he stuck his hand in the pouch while talking and realized it wasn't there. He was like, Oh Shit, lmao. Then clumsily tried to hide the fact that he has no box by taking out his hand and only showing the back of it to the audience, lmao.
He watched a clip of that performance afterwards and learned that the box fell while he did a roundhouse kick.
Also, during the fight with Deisy, he can't see anything. The lights were so bright. When he twirls the handcuffs, it has to face a certain side so that the cuff would close, but sometimes it ends up facing the wrong side, so he has to twirl it back. However, it's hard to figure out if it's facing the right side or not because of the light, so he accidentally dropped the handcuffs once.
(There were actually a few fan reports saying that Kento seemed to drop his props often lol)
Q: Thoughts on Hibari unbuttoning his suit before fighting A: When raising your arm while wearing suits, the middle part scrunches open and he doesn't like that. He wants Hibari to look flawless, so he tried to make it part of the act to unbutton the suit.
He doesn't do this for the part where he trains Tsuna, since he doesn't want to make it like Hibari's doing it for appearances. He tries to make it seem like it's an act Hibari does when he expects a good fight.
Q: Any special training? A: He has a lower center of gravity because he played ice hockey seriously for 9 years. He's jealous of actors who took karate and dance since they are useful skills as an actor. He believes that playing ice hockey and balancing on ice skates really contributed to doing action scenes.
Q: Do you do any weight/muscle training? A: He used to go to the gym, but stopped because of covid. He apparently started classic ballet recently. He likes gaining strength without getting too bulked up. Before he hated wearing tight clothes, but now he has embraced it lmao
Q: Any KHR weapons he would like to try? A: He likes Japanese swords, so he likes Yamamoto's sword style.
When Chrome was handed the Devil Lens, he wondered how one would fight with it? How do you make it look like you use it often? Do you twirl it like a pen?
He's seen James' whip skills live during Secret Bullet and was very impressed that James was able to use them to the fullest. It's a weapon you can more easily hurt yourself with after all.
During rehearsals, there wasn't a center door to come out from, so he had to wait at the sides while Dino and Deisy were fighting. Hibari often comes out from the center door, so he calls Hibari a "Center Door Guy", lol.
Q: Judging from how fast you changed into the yukata during curtain call, are you the type of person who changes clothes fast? A: He has to change from suit to yukata in 1 minute and 30 seconds and be careful not to make Hibari look sloppy, so he was really worried about it... That's why you'd see him touching his collar from time to time.
Final Words
He asks fans to answer the Reborn! The Stage questionnaire and request for a rerun of the Future arc stage plays. They were able to change the future in Future arc, so he believes we can change the future in real life as well. A rerun isn't impossible in his opinion.
He'd love to livestream again sometime with others, like Daiki-kun (Glo Xinia/Dino), and Daiki-kun, and Daiki-kun.😂
#katekyo hitman reborn#khr#reborn the stage#episode of future#kitamura kento#translation#livestream#kento is part of the primo gang lol congrats#also the staff was the one who took his photos for him apparently#but the idea on the poses and stuff was all him#lol in hindsight i shouldve done a couple of screenshots but i was too busy typing#i actually have some summaries for kohei and daikis streams that i never posted here oops#tho my notes on koheis were messy since i hadnt planned on writing an actual summary
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The TOXICITY of straight dating culture: Do you even realize what you teach?
A few months ago, a straight teenage girl explained her crush to me with the sentence “He’s so toxic.”
I know a 17-year-old girl with a little to no clue of how a non-toxic relationship should look like.
I started noticing a certain pattern online and in my real life too.
Now it’s a time for my first disclaimer: I am not straight myself. Nope. Not at all. Perhaps that’s why I see through it.
To this point, all I have done about this is that I have complained to some friends, got over it and went on with my life.
Today, a girl, no older than twelve, has told me about her crush on a “bad boy” and we talked about him for a second. He really did seem like what the definition of a bad boy is for tweens.
I snapped.
And here I am, writing my first tumblr post ever on this very topic.
I want to make clear, this is not an attack on those girls. This is an attack on the society, what it taught them and what it failed to teach.
The youngest girl and me, we talked about music. She said she liked “dramatic” songs and played me some of her favorites.
Disclaimer number two: I did know both the artists, but I don’t actually listen to them. The closest to mainstream music my playlists get is Take me to church by Hozier, the rest being a wide range of songs, interprets and genres from pop punk to death metal and everything in between.
I was actually surprised. One of the two artists she played for me was Billie Eilish. The beginning of the song went:
Don't be cautious, don't be kind
You committed, I'm your crime
Push my button anytime
You got your finger on the trigger
But your trigger finger's mine
The second song was by Maroon 5.
It was even worse:
So what you trying to do to me
It's like we can't stop, we're enemies
But we get along when I'm inside you, eh
You're like a drug that's killing me
I cut you out entirely
But I get so high when I'm inside you
Yeah you can start over you can run free
You can find other fish in the sea
You can pretend it's meant to be
But you can't stay away from me
I can still hear you making that sound
Taking me down rolling on the ground
You can pretend that it was me
But no, oh
I am not going to argue about whether it’s appropriate or whether she understands the lyrics the way I do. It doesn’t even matter. She understands the drama in the song. She understands it enough for me to be concerned.
There are other songs like that. There is a whole culture teaching pre-teen and teenage girls, that “they can’t get away”, romanticizing toxic people and toxic relationships, blurring the lines of consent and guess what? The girls believe it’s the way it’s supposed to be.
I texted my girlfriend and we spent some time looking for straight love-songs, celebrating healthy relationships. None of them were mainstream, but we found things like:
That the world is ugly
But you're beautiful to me
Are you thinking of me
Like I'm thinking of you
I would say I'm sorry, though
Though I really need to go
I just wanted you to know
I wanted you to know
I wanted you to know
I'm thinking of you every night, every day
(My Chemical romance)
And
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
I'm chasing after you
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held on to
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete
I'll take your invitation
You take all of me now
(Lifehouse)
First of all: Those are 4 extracts of songs, chosen by me to demonstrate my point and they may or may not reflect the reality, you (the reader) see: those two songs might be just an exception, but in that case this post is still not canceled, because there is enough of other correlations and causation for me to have a reason to write this.
Those songs are “dramatic”, but the drama shifts from the relationship itself and its toxicity to the circumstances and environment. My girlfriend even recommended a punk song called Ne touche pas moi (Do not touch me), which is entirely about consent.
I am not explicitly saying that the songs she played for me are bad. It’s not for me to decide.
But all Billie Eilish’ fans I ever met were in the age range between eleven and fourteen, so I am supposing that’s her target audience. As for Maroon 5, I have no idea. However, music influences us. The girl is old enough to know what kind of music she likes and wants to listen to and with the peer pressure going on there, her parents do not really have a say in what she listens to and they are not to be blamed for this.
It’s the culture.
Toxicity is not a positive trait to look for in a potential partner. Even if he is a good looking one.
Enough of music.
Do you know who the toxic crush was?
Draco Malfoy.
One of the most famous of all characters in media, famously portrayed by Tom Felton in the Harry Potter film series.
Disclaimer number four: I have a problem with the books and movies and I also have some issues with the author.
Still, I see a fandom celebrating the love of Severus Snape for Lilly Evans Potter. Except it’s not love and it’s not a crush either. It’s an obsession. One that has become so iconic, the word “Always” is one of the main symbols of Harry Potter.
It shouldn’t be.
It should have never happened.
Draco Malfoy is quite the same thing. He is a racist, a bully. He is raised to be one, sure... That’s not an excuse. He doesn’t actually have a canonical redemption arch (not counting the deleted scene from the last movie and the Cursed child). If he came up to Hermione, acknowledging his mistakes, apologizing for his behavior, then maybe. Perhaps... That’s another story though. My point is, Rowling fails to actually depict problematic characters as actually problematic, they are romanticized by her, the filmmakers, the fandom and the wider audience.
Girls are taught to be the ones to make the redemption arch happen, irl or in fiction. They are supposed to date whoever is into them, regardless of whether they like the person back, and it’s unbelievably often I see them crushing on villains and problematic people like Draco Malfoy, because they are taught, he would change for them or that they could change him.
Toxicity is not a positive trait to look for in a potential partner. Even if he is a good looking one.
Those together result in a complete lack of knowledge of how a healthy relationship should look like. That’s the case of the third girl I mentioned. Being best friends with both her and her current boyfriend, I had three points of view on their relationship. It’s only been the past few weeks, not more than two month it has shifted to a more positive, healthy relationship.
It’s not the girl’s fault. They learn what a healthy relationship is the hard way, mostly after going through a toxic one(s).
WHY?
The sentence: “I always fall for the bad guys.” lacks the essential: “because the society taught me to” part.
It’s so common.
It’s too common.
It’s not even that we wouldn’t talk about it: we do. But you celebrate it. And that is not okay and that is the reason I am typing this.
Disclaimer number 5: The gender roles in this post are based off of my observations. I do acknowledge the fact that girls can be and sometimes are the toxic person in the relationship and that the lesson boys are thought is no way better (more freeing perhaps, but not right either) . It might not be specific to the straight culture either, but again, my observations were.
I was about thirteen, when I figured out I was gay and I had to learn everything on my own. How the relationships should work out, what is healthy and what is not... I had to learn on my own because the society failed to teach me anything. I am yet to decide whether that’s better or worse than teaching the wrong one.
#lgbtq#spilled thoughts#punk#music#culture#society#feminist#teenagers#relationship#toxic is toxic#toxicity#gay girls#queer#random observations#harry potter#draco malfoy
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In Carcere Ch.40
Pairing: inahoxslaine (orangebat, inasure)
Rated: T Warnings: spoilers for series finale Chapter: 40/? (previous chapter) Chapter Word Count: 13k
Summary: At first Inaho visits out of duty and humanity. And then he finds he can’t stop going back to see Slaine Troyard.
“I’m sorry to say, I can’t reveal who our leader is yet,” Lemrina says the minute she can find some time alone with Inaho. “He actually requested it from me after meeting with Slaine. He says he’d like to talk to you without prior knowledge coloring the discussion.”
Meaning he wants to ensure I don’t have time to prepare or plan based on his identity. At least I know it’s a male, though that was hardly unexpected considering the male gender predominance in high Martian ranks.
“And while normally I would assume your lack of expression might help…”
“You don’t want to risk the breach of trust it would be if I accidentally reveal I knew in some way. I understand. I assume he revealed his motivation and plans to Slaine?”
“They didn’t have time to go over details of the current plan, but yes, he told Slaine why he’s doing all this and some other relevant information I can’t reveal.”
“And Slaine’s verdict?”
“Agrees the words made sense, and the emotion demonstrated seemed real, so Slaine ‘trusts him as far as he can shoot him’.”
Inaho nods. “So he has decided to believe this man but hasn’t been blindly led and is keeping a healthy skepticism. Good, in between you two choosing to follow him, I assume I will have the same opinion, unless I’m privy to information you both were not.”
Lemrina is pleased enough with the mild compliment, as Kaizuka acknowledging anyone else’s intellect is certainly one, and tries to be gentle. “I’m sure it all means he should be coming to you soon.”
“That depends, did he also ask Slaine not to tell me?”
“Hm, I don’t know actually.”
“If he asked the same of Slaine, it means he won’t be coming anytime soon.” Which is a nuisance; the faster I can discuss this with Slaine, the better.
“Maybe that will be for the best, I heard the medical staff say you’re making quite a bit of progress, but that doesn’t mean you’d be fully mentally ready for him soon.”
“Certainly. And did Slaine go forth with our plan?”
“You mean, that pathetic excuse of an idea, where you pretend to only be pretending to love him?” Lemrina hisses.
“Did you not once pretend to only be pretending to be in love with him as Asseylum?”
Lemrina gasps as if he’d physically slapped her. “That… was different . And much more toned down. And… and besides if you really think it’s the same situation, all the more reason for you to accept my opinion on the subject as the correct one.”
With that, she pushes her wheelchair out of the room.
Inaho is hardly concerned; Lemrina is hardly one to be fine with prolonged solitude. And his observation was perfectly logical, she will admit it herself soon if never out loud to him. She will be back.
*
And she certainly was.
“I think it’s time to tell you one more thing.”
You mean you forgot to do so yesterday when you left in exaggerated displeasure. “Yes?”
She recounts the Emperor’s situation as well as Slaine’s fears.
Inaho considers it. “This is something I should examine further when I’m fully recovered. But for now I agree with Slaine’s interest in this. How both the UFE and Vers treat you and Asseylum will change according to this knowledge. But, we have an edge over both.”
“Rayet’s attempt,” Lemrina says. “I asked her before coming over. She told me she tried strangling Asseylum to the point where she required CPR to be revived.”
Inaho nods. “Correct, and at that time, Asseylum was the one that had directly activated the Deucalion, and it stopped functioning, confirming her momentary death.”
“By then, Slaine had already received aldnoah from her by way of CPR—what?” Lemrina stops, noticing the rare sight of Inaho’s lips quivering upwards for a moment.
“Nothing, the coincidence amuses me.”
“I hope you’re not thinking this is a case of indirect kissing?” Lemrina asks in disgust.
“No. I never understood the logic behind attaching the sentimentality of a kiss to the action of sharing a surface at different—”
“No need to go further, I’m satisfied. What’s important is that Slaine retained his aldnoah access even after her momentary death.” She sighs. “If only all of the Deucalion crew hadn’t witnessed that death and subsequent system failure. It will be easy for either faction to get their hands on that information.”
Inaho shrugs. “Even if they do, it’s of little consequence unless the knowledge that Slaine piloted the Tharsis thanks to Asseylum is also information they can procure.”
Lemrina considers it. “It’s hard to say for certain, but I think not. He first used it when he was with Count Saazbaum.”
“During a fight between planets, where all eyes were elsewhere, and Slaine didn’t use the Tharsis to interfere in a way that would have gotten him noticed before he took off with Asseylum in tow. At which point one could assume that he drank her blood and only after was able to use the Tharsis to leave.”
“Count Saazbaum was aware of my existence, so one could assume if Saazbaum didn’t pass his aldnoah access to Slaine, I might have. They'd have to go as far as know Slaine only met me after using the Tharsis.”
“Although that only works for people that are aware of your existence. Meaning, assuming that you and Slaine met before his using the Tharsis is something that may only dissuade your leader from looking for— wait.” Inaho considers it further. “Slaine could have operated the Tharsis without the aldnoah drive, if Count Saazbaum had allowed it, unless he made a show of being able to operate it fully when he reached martians with Asseylum?”
Lemrina shakes her head. “No, initially there was an uproar as they focused on saving her life. Count Sauzbaum took over and simply acted as if her rescue was his plan and Slaine a mere follower of his. After that, they focused on silently keeping her coma a secret and pretending I was her, partially recovered. There was no interest from martians to getting to know Slaine, much less the extent of what he could do with the Tharsis.”
Inaho’s head begins to feel uncomfortable. Although he can still plough on further, he’d rather not do any damage that might show up on test results. “This is as far as I can go for now,” he says, pointing to his eye. “But I can still say at least this until I’m able to reflect further: I don’t think we are at the risk of either martians or terrans finding out the truth. One would have to have an intricate knowledge of Slaine's abilities with the Tharsis, a timeline, as well be aware the Deucalion shut down mid flight once. We never divulged to every crew that it was due to Asseylum nearly being murdered. I don’t see it happening. Besides—”
“Really, if it’s hurting you, you can stop and retake this another time!”
“This much I can handle. It’s one last thing. If your leader was on the path of closing in on the truth, he’d have to ask you, Slaine or Harklight for details on Slaine and the Tharsis. So long as neither of you ever divulged anything to him, only we know about this.”
“He never asked. So we know something neither the UFE or he does. I wonder if we can use that to our favor? Ah, but don’t think about that now!”
It is frustrating that he can’t reflect on it now. Even more so when Inaho acknowledges there are many things he could have already thought through if he’d been invested in it since the start.
There’s no point in regret now.
*
“ Ha! I win again. Told you that the second match was a fluke. There’s no way I’d lose to someone who… who…”
Rayet realizes too late that making fun of Slaine for being incarcerated and thus not being allowed to work out properly really isn’t a good look.
“I mean, of course I wouldn’t lose every match, but it’s actually really impressive you bet me in arm wrestle at all! You should be proud!”
Slaine bursts out laughing. “You are even worse at giving compliments than Inaho. It’s fine, really. It is the truth. I’ve been tying some stuff together and lifting those but the results are slow.”
Rayet relaxes; Slaine laughing without a biting edge to it is rare and a good sign. “I used to think anyone could pilot if they had the coordination for it. It took me a while to realize you do need strength to keep your stamina at the controls for long. Nina and Inko always complain about feeling bruised after too long.”
“Did you visit them before coming back? How are they?”
“In good spirits. Which is something, after being forced to work like that for the UFE.”
“Can’t they simply quit?”
“Not everyone can walk away that easily. They let me go at first because they thought I was touched in the head. Inaho, they assumed broken, plus I guess since he was only leaving to take up, well, you, I guess that worked out just fine. The old geezers aboard the Deucalion… I think they refuse to leave because they know the UFE is simply going to shove someone else in their place, so they might as well stay aboard to protect the Deucalion.
“And the rest… I guess they could ask to leave but… and go where? I guess this is my own fault because I keep complaining, and also because you only saw them when the UFE started doing shit. But the Deucalion itself… It feels like home. And safe. If there was a way to leave the UFE without sacrificing the Deucalion, who knows.”
“... Speaking of the Deucalion. Rayet?”
“Yeah?”
“Could you tell me about that time you once mentioned, when you tried to strangle Her Majesty?”
Rayet leans back on her chair, now worried again. “...Why?” Inaho had been very emphatic about not trying to pry the topic of Asseylum out of Slaine in his absence. The possibility of Slaine himself bringing it up hadn’t factored in. Especially not with this sort of request.
Then it hits her. “Oh, wait. Is this about the aldnoah thing? Lemrina asked about the same thing. Yeah, I tried killing her, she fainted, Deucalion went down, she was revived.”
“Yes. But I’d like the details, please.”
Not that Slaine truly needs the details, but it’s clear Rayet is treating him like some invalid that cannot handle even that, and it’s grating on his nerves to not be able to show he is not as unstable as he had been. “I think they might be important.” he lies. “And it’s fine, you won’t upset me.”
Rayet considers it, then shrugs. She can blame Slaine if Inaho complains later. “Alright then. My memory is a little foggy because I wasn’t in my right mind but uh… I was in the shower, reflecting on, well, watching my family be killed before my eyes.”
Slaine blinks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. You couldn’t have known. Anyway, in comes Asseylum chatting happily to her maid about how everyone is so nice to her and I just… broke? I know how ridiculous it sounds when I tell anyone. Hell, even back then I knew I wasn’t okay doing it. Anyway, the motivation was stupid so we can skip that—”
“You can skip it if that’s what you want. But as for stupid motivation to commit crimes, I certainly cannot judge you, if you wan’t to talk about it,” Slaine says with a mirthless smile.
“...I blamed her. But it wasn’t like my anger now. Now I can see her actively failing and harming people, so it feels like it’s okay to feel this way. But back then… I blamed her for things that weren’t really her fault. I mean, everything happened because she was so naive, but there’s a limit to what I can blame her for that. My family was tasked with murdering her with false promises of glory. Then they were betrayed and killed instead. We had lived a life of lies until then, not being allowed to reveal where we came from, even.
“I thought… if she hadn’t come to Earth, none of it would have happened. And then, despite the destruction that her arrival inadvertently caused, she went around skipping through the corridors of the Deucalion like she was out on a fun vacation. No one even blamed her for it! It was too much. My family was dead and she didn’t even look upset . I wanted her to stop smiling. ”
Rayet’s hands are balled into fists on the table. Slaine reaches out to place his hands over hers.
How different from the me of back then . Cruhteo would whip him, tell him he was worthless, the rest would at best ignore him, at worst steal his food and beat him up. Every day he had to walk in tiptoes, no mistake was ever too small to not get ruthlessly punished for.
And then there was her, smiling brightly and talking about seeing birds and water, unaware of his treatment.
He had loved that. He could bask in her obliviousness and for a while pretend nothing was wrong, nothing was happening to him. He had needed that small amount of joy to get through the day.
...But would he have ever suffered that much if she had known and done something to stop it?
No, don’t do that. Don’t blame her for the things you never told her about.
“What then?” He asks, hoping to pull them both away from a spiral by focusing elsewhere.
It works, and Rayet focuses. Her hands relax again, so Slaine takes his back. “So then the maid left to do… whatever, I don’t remember. I wasn’t in my right mind, like I was acting on autopilot. I went to where she was showering, and grabbed... the nearest object I could to choke her.”
“You choked her with a towel?” It would have been easier to use her bare hands.
“No, I don’t remember what that object was.”
“I deal with Inaho constantly. Don’t try to lie to me.”
“... It was that pendant.”
Slaine lets out a sound that is between incredulous laughter and choking.
“I really only brought her more misery, didn’t I?”
“Slaine—”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have given it to Inaho. I guess it brings bad luck.”
That he switched so fast from focusing on Asseylum to worrying about Inaho makes Rayet excited enough to speak without thinking. “He’d have taken it anyway.”
“What?”
“... Because… Because he doesn’t believe in that stuff, you know.”
“Ah, right. So, you used my pendant.”
“Right. She eventually stopped struggling and fainted so I let her fall to the floor. I just...stood there not really thinking. But then the Deucalion lurched, fell and stopped moving. Then Inaho and the maid came back.”
“He likely realized what the Deucalion losing power meant.”
“I guess. And then more people came, they brought in a defibrillator. Inaho personally administered CPR…”
There is a fleeting expression on Slaine’s face, that goes away too quickly for her to make out.
“She woke up again, but the Deucalion didn’t start up.”
“Yes, once turned off, aldnoah needs to be personally activated again.”
“Right. And… that was it. So, Lemrina said this all means even if the former Emperor does die, martians will keep their power?”
“...Yes.”
Rayet clicks her tongue in annoyance. “There really is no easy way to get rid of their power.”
I wonder. “Please don’t tell anyone. No one knows as much as we do.”
“Don’t worry. The only person I’m inclined to tell is Inaho, and I know Lemrina is going to fill him in. As for why knowing is so useful, I’ll leave you scheming people to it. Now, one more game before I leave?”
“Since Inaho isn’t around, how about poker?”
“Sure, but don’t invite that Harklight. He looks like he can keep a straight face a little too well.”
*
Slaine does, later on, invite Harklight for a game of poker.
Rayet was right; he does have a good poker face.
“That’s it,” Slaine says after the third loss in a row. “You are playing against Inaho when he comes back.”
“I fear I’m not quite that good.”
*
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”
“Don’t be silly, I know how packed your schedule is.”
Packed mostly with useless fluff. Still, it is necessary to establish a routine of continuous movement and meetings, so as to mask any suspicious activities.
Mazuurek, leading the way to a private room, continues the mindless chatter. “I’m surprised you came so early, in fact. I hope I haven’t interrupted any important meetings, I really have nothing urgent to say, I just miss personal company sometimes.”
“On the contrary,” Klancain replies. “I happened to have an opening.” True, as dropping a meeting to randomly visit Mazuurek might seem suspicious. “So it was simply luck that I could come over so soon.”
Instead of answering, Mazuurek stops in front of a door and opens it for Klancain to walk inside.
It’s one of Mazuurek’s favorite guest rooms, and Klancain is casual enough with Mazuurek to sit himself down on a couch.
“This room is safe, I always check,” Mazuurek assured him, sitting down on the opposite side.
“Is somewhere in your Landing Castle not safe right now?”
“Not that I’m aware. But, well, I thought it might be prudent to be careful.”
“Oh yes. Pardon me, I didn’t mean to come off as judging you, my friend. It is indeed better to be safe than sorry in these troubled times. It’s just that, if you had a more concrete belief on being spied upon, I could try and help.”
Before Mazuurek can answer, there is a knock on the door and a servant comes in bringing food, glasses and a bottle to set the low table between the two Counts.
“That was different,” Klancain comments mildly when they’re alone again. “Usually I see that former maid of Her Majesty’s.”
Mazuurek smiles as he grabs a pastry. “She had been granted some vacation time off. I made some calculations and realized she had accrued two months of vacation she had never bothered to request. Hungry?”
“Not really, thank you, but I’ll accept a drink. And that was nice of you.”
“Not that nice, according to her. She certainly acted like I was kicking her out, not rewarding her with some time to rest.” Mazuurek sighs. “I used to allow them to do as they wish with their vacation, but I’ve noticed my martian underlings all refuse to take time off, so I decided to set her as an example. Really, I do understand that in between needing to build up Vers to become hospitable and then getting ready for war, we hardly ever had time for such things. But now that we’re here, I want to increase Labor Rights so my workers have a better life. Even if it takes a while for it to sink in.”
“A commendable idea. I should reinforce that in my own Landing Castle. Oh!” Klancain had been examining the drink bottle and finally noticed the label on it. “This is new, and from your territory, no less. What’s this, Mazuurek?”
Mazuurek looks half apologetic. “I’m sorry, but I was hoping to hear your opinion on it? It’s something that has been around for a while here, but recently I thought of perhaps increasing production and trying to export to other territories. It might help the economy.”
“I’ll gladly be your test group. Let’s see…” He tries taking a sip. “Very good. I can definitely see this succeeding as an export.”
“I hope you aren’t saying that just to please me.”
“I wouldn't jeopardize your economic endeavors by lying about their success rate. But tell me, has something happened? I thought you were doing fine.”
“Fine is good, certainly, but I want more than that. Perhaps with a surplus of income I could expand and help more people. Not to mention… who knows how things will be in the future, considering the current situation.”
Ah, here we go .
Mazuurek waits, but when he sees Klancain has no plans to say anything, he continues, now serious.
“The UFE murdered Count Mikael.”
“...Yes.”
“And you knew about it.”
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you…”
“Do anything?” Klancain downs the rest of his glass in one motion, then looks at Mazuurek with sincere despondency. “Because there was nothing I could do. If I had sufficient sway, I would never had allowed the UFE to not only murder one of our own, but to go further and do it in a way to create strife between our people. Yes, I knew about it; but that is the extent of what I can do. The terrans that compose the UFE Council did not arrive there by easily listening to martians.
“...You could have told me.”
“Did Kaizuka tell you?”
“I... thought we were closer than Kaizuka and I,” Mazuurek says, and colors lightly, likely from frustration.
Klancain flinches; he’s gone too far. “I apologize, my friend. The subject is a complicated one for me. If you’re upset with me for not having done anything, rest assured I am even more so. I didn’t tell you because I saw no point in burdening you with it.”
“But I could have done something!”
“Do you truly think so? What would you have done, then? Revealed what the UFE was planning, thus restarting another planetary conflict and resulting in more bloodshed?”
“... I…”
“If Kaizuka also chose to keep this from you, then it’s because even he realized there was nothing you could do. But please, don’t take that as you are lacking. If it is a failure, it’s one we both share.”
Mazuurek silently stares at him, then his shoulders sag. He leans forward, reaching for his empty glass.
Klancain grabs the bottle and offers to pour for him. Mazuurek hesitates then, to Klancain’s surprise, grabs the whole bottle from him and drinks directly from it.
“That isn’t very respectful of you,” Klancain says with amusement.
“Ah, screw that,” Mazuurek says uncharacteristically, but he’s smiling.
“Care to share?”
“As much as you care to share your information.”
“Alright, I deserve that. Sobriety it is.”
“Ah, fine, you don’t,” Mazuurek admits, and hands the bottle over. Klancain considers it for a second before shrugging and following his example, foregoing the glass.
“I understand that it’s not as if I’d do anything about it. Just like about… Slaine Troyard.”
Ah. “Kaizuka told you that, too.”
“Oh, you have no idea .”
“Hm? I’m all ears.”
“... No, I will keep the details to myself. Not out of spite, but some things… are Kaizuka’s to talk about. You can go ask him.”
Oh? Did he mention his feelings for Slaine to Mazuurek? A pity it would be too suspicious to inquire about that. “Maybe I will. He and I never had a chance to talk, actually.”
“You’ll work out great, with those tendencies to not tell your friends the very relevant information you know.”
“Mazuurek…” Klancain tries to offer him the bottle again, but Mazuurek refuses.
“No. Look, as I said, I have to admit I really can do nothing about Troyard, nor could I have stopped the UFE without making it worse. But to think that even you will refuse to tell me such important things… it means not only do you not think me useless, you don’t even see me as trustworthy or care about me enough to ensure that I’m also aware!”
Maybe I shouldn’t tread too lightly after all. “I see. So, when will you be telling Her Majesty?”
“...!”
“Come now. Are you perhaps not fond of her enough to keep her informed?” It would be nice if you acknowledged she is hardly intelligent enough for you to ever risk it, but you won’t go down that path.
“That’s… I don’t want to hurt her.”
“And that, my friend, is why I haven’t told you. Sharing this with you, so you too can live knowing how powerless we are, wouldn’t make me happier.”
Mazuurek’s shoulders sag in defeat. “I suppose I understand. But still, now that I know this much, it’s not going to help me to keep more from me. Promise me you’ll now tell me if you know of the next attack.
“While I can swear I am not aware of any attack at the moment... no, I cannot promise you I’ll warn you of future ones. Not unless you promise you’ll take that information and do nothing with it.”
“...! But what if I find a way—”
“And what way would that be? Visit the Count and stay with him forever? No Mazuurek, I will not risk your life by telling you that information in advance.”
Mazuurek looks like he wants to argue, but again can’t find an argument. Klancain takes pity on him.
“Obviously, if you are ever their target,” he chuckles at the notion, “I will immediately warn you. Although, thanks to Kaizuka, I assume you’ll be on the lookout hereon for suspicious skycarriers requesting permission to land, and you can just shoot Troyard on sight.”
To Klancain’s surprise, Mazuurek groans, pulling at his bangs. “I… am going to try and avoid that. Shooting him down I mean.”
So Kaizuka did say something about his feelings. “What is this? Pity for him now?”
“I guess,” Mazuurek says, and can’t quite look him in the eyes, confirming Klancain’s assumption. “Oh. Maybe you can at least help me with his collar?”
“Hm?”
“Can you acquire the plans to how it was made? I could try and find a way to dismantle it.”
It’s a relief to finally hear something he can agree with, and Klancain smiles. “As a matter of fact, I might be able to procure that for you.” He had, in fact, already begun to do so; if he could remove the collar mid-operations, he could take Slaine from the UFE through the easiest route. “Or at the very least, the signal information. The UFE knows this collar is all that keeps Troyard in check and obedient outside of his cell, the plans won’t be something they’ve left unguarded.”
“I imagine so. But it’s fine, we have to try something. Maybe I could create a device to jam the signal, at least.”
“True, I’ll tell you of any updates I have on that, just don’t get your hopes up too much. And if the UFE tires of keeping Troyard alive, I’ll tell you after the fact. That’s the most I can do.”
Mazuurek sighs. “Fine, I know not to push my luck. That said, Slaine Troyard… I feel partially to blame for that.”
“Hm? Why so?”
“I’ve been thinking, ever since Inaho came over. I recalled when I first heard they’d use him as a scapegoat to secure peace.”
Klancain considers it. “Ah, yes. The UFE Council called Her Majesty in for a private meeting, and neither of us had the power or influence to join in.”
Mazuurek nods. “And then when she came to us later, with the idea of using him in her head, I remember… remember how I didn’t really object. I thought, ‘he’s dead, and nearly succeeded in hurting terrans and was keeping Her Majesty captive, why not?’. I was tired, I wanted an end to all the fighting already and besides, maybe it would be cathartic for Her Majesty to pay him back for the hurt he caused her. I never voiced a complaint.”
“You didn’t know he was alive.”
“Did you?”
“No. We landed on Earth together, remember? I still hadn’t managed to acquire any connections to terrans, much less the UFE or Kaizuka. I didn’t have the information,” Klancain answers truthfully.
“That’s the thing. You also didn’t know he was alive, but you thought things true. I remember how you tried dissuading Her Majesty. You said Count Saazbaum would be more appropriate. In fact, you even offered your father—”
“Ah, please don’t think that suggestion was a big sacrifice on my part. We weren’t close and besides, my dear father would want nothing more than to have his memory used for the sake of Vers’ future.”
“Even so, you tried . I said nothing. It never occurred to me just how fragile the peace we’ve brokered on this lie really is, until Inaho spelled it out to me. Maybe, if I had just said anything…”
“Maybe nothing would have changed.” Klancain cuts his thoughts short. “It wasn’t your job to think of it for Her Majesty, don’t blame yourself for something that you might not have achieved even if you had tried. I could also have done more. Insisted on it, or talked to you to get you to help me. But I dropped it quickly enough, too.”
He had initially wanted for Slaine to not be used, as he had known nothing would seal his fate tighter than that; in any other situation the UFE might lock him up but never as closely guarded as now that they cannot afford to lose their excuse.
That said, choosing Slaine as the figurehead did help him in other regards; by blaming a young boy, it speeded up martian suspicion of Asseylum by at least a year.
“I suppose. And I’m sure the UFE wouldn’t let Her Majesty change her mind so easily.”
Klancain considers if he can afford to push Mazuurek a little more. He doesn’t want him feeling worse, yet he does need to plant seeds of doubt on him, if he ever hopes to not have to fight him in the future. He chooses to try. “As a matter of fact, that is something I’ve been wondering.”
“Yes?”
“Was placing all the blame on Troyard something the UFE came up with?”
“You mean…!”
“When I think about it, wouldn’t the UFE rather blame a martian Count, instead of a terran boy that had just barely risen to power?”
“So, you think Her Majesty suggested him.”
It certainly sounds like the foolish, lacking in oversight, decision of someone who never had to think of the consequences of her actions in a negative light, and who wanted him to personally pay. “I’m afraid I am leaning towards that assumption, for now. Recall, if you please, that Troyard’s troops were poised on the eve of a victory. The peace protected terrans and not our people. It would not interest them to broker a peace too fragile that would result in Vers taking back the fight before they could even recover.”
“But then, why?”
“Maybe at that moment they wanted nothing more than to please the one person they had to thank for creating the ceasefire. And if her request was something that came with no sacrifice to them or their power, why start their relationship with a refusal? Better to give her that, start amicable relationships with a show of being willing to follow her lead then disagree and push back or more serious matters for the UFE.”
That, and now having something over Asseylum’s head. If she ever seems to be no longer following UFE’s interests, they can hold Slaine over her head. If she tries to amass martian power against terrans one day, they can ruin trust her people have in her by revealing the truth.
And that is the true reason they willingly kept Slaine alive even before they had any use for him. They could have killed him and claimed an accident, or suicide, to appease Asseylum’s sensibility if she ever cared to ask.
He is a tool to overturn regimes. The question is, who will use him.
Wherever you realize it or not, accept it or not, Asseylum, it was Slaine that gave you the power to create this false peace. Everything you built thanks to him, he can destroy.
And I’ll see to it that he does.
Mazuurek does not notice Klancain’s darkening face, lost in his own thoughts.
The UFE’s power must be diminished.
He’d been meaning to tell Klancain of his plans to increase his own influence, but now he’s changed his mind. It’s not that he wants to be petty over the lack of information; he simply feels it would best if Klancain continued to be oblivious, to not harm his own standing in the UFE.
Besides, Klancain is smart, he’ll notice it in time, if Mazuurek succeeds.
*
“Lemrina, how does the aldnoah transfer work?”
Lemrina frowns. “ You don’t know?”
“Assume I don’t.”
“Fine. By swearing fealty to the Royal Family then accepting our blood. The loyalty and the blood together allow for aldnoah use.”
“Slaine—”
“Other body fluids don’t carry the same power as blood. Rather than that, through skin to skin contact is how loyalty, or love, is verified. That gives the subject a temporary contract; you can use aldnoah to activate one thing to your will, but nothing else. To complete the contract and fully receive aldnoah, blood must then be ingested.”
“I presume you gave Slaine your blood then, during the war?”
Lemrina shifts uncomfortably. “... As a matter of fact, no. I… was foolish. I knew he’d need me less if I did give him, and I wanted to retain some power over him… “
“That was a very sensible decision on your part.”
“No, no it wasn’t. Maybe it sounds like it, but I know there was nothing logical about it, I just wanted attention. Anyway, I would give him my blood now, but I can’t ask for his loyalty.”
“About that, is there some basis, some test done, to ascertain it requires loyalty?”
“A text left behind by the ancients. It said:
“ Those who are loaned to ‘successor’ and ‘maneuver’ need to ‘recognize’ each other as part of their own. The consciousness that feels like a part of oneself, recognizing that the object is a personality different from oneself, can also be called ‘loyalty’. In other words, it is also called ‘love’. Only to those who pledge ‘loyalty’ or ‘love’, Ald Noah's ‘maneuver’ is borrowed .”
“...”
“What is it?”
“Nothing, just my head.” For once, it’s a lie.
*
“Kaizuka, you have a visitor.”
Inaho frowns at the unexpectedness. He doubts it’s his friends from the Deucalion, or else they’d come as a group. He glances at Lemrina, doing strength training a few feet away, but she looks back clearly just as lost.
“That’s fine, bring them in,” Inaho says.
Even more surprisingly, it turns out to be Eddelrittuo.
“Greetings, Inaho Kaizuka…” she says, and Inaho can’t quite place the look on her face.
Well, whatever it may be, she doesn’t seem pleased to be here. “It’s been a while, Eddelrittuo.”
“Yes…” Before she can say anything else, she catches sight of Lemrina and her eyes grow wide. “Y-You!”
Inaho sighs inwardly, wishing Eddelrittuo had learned to be a little less open and expressive.
“I suppose working under Mazuurek, you haven’t seen a fellow maid of Her Highness, so your surprise isn’t shocking.”
Annoyingly, she does not catch the hint. “W-What?”
“Hello, Eddelrittuo,” Lemrina says smoothly, coming over as fast as her wheelchair would allow. “It’s been a while since we both worked together under Her Majesty’s employ, hasn’t it?”
Finally Eddelrittuo understands. “Oh! Right! Yes, it’s been so long, how are you?”
“I’m doing better. My legs can almost move again.” To prove her point, Lemrina exerts some effort and her legs kick.
Eddelrittuo’s eyes grow wide again, but for the first time since her arrival, she smiles warmly. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you!”
“I’m done, we can relocate to my room,” Inaho says, trying to steer them towards privacy, but to his surprise Eddelrittuo scrunches up her nose.
“Why would I want to visit your room?”
So she wasn’t sent by Mazuurek due to a sensitive topic. “That’s fine then. So, why are you here?”
She stomps her foot. “Count Mazuurek he… he gave me a vacation! ” The last word is said as a wail.
Inaho looks to Lemrina, assuming this is a cultural thing.
Lemrina is frowning slightly. “Vacation…? Oh, yes, I recall that concept.” She giggles and turns to Inaho. “Receiving time off isn’t expected for martians, especially not those… those of us who work directly with the Royal Family. That is a privilege, you see, and needing to rest would imply weakness and dissatisfaction with the work. At most you receive a day or so of rest a month.”
“And I’m not tired!” Eddelrittuo whined. “I didn’t become Her Majesty’s personal maid on a whim! I was picked as the best, and I never shirked from duty!”
Child and slave labor rolled in one. Hm, is this a consequence of the harsh conditions of the planet, resulting in the need for more work and less ethics? Something similar even if not as drastic did occur in Japan after—
This isn’t the time for that. “That is stupid,” he says bluntly. “People need rest, for the sake of their psychological health. There are countless studies on it. Outside of martial law, Earth has civil rights and labor laws in place to protect people, and I assume Mazuurek is trying to implement them.”
Eddelrittuo sniffs. “Yes, he mentioned something of the kind. And said that…” She raised her head up proudly. “As a former maid of Her Majesty and someone that others hold in high esteem in the Landing Castle, I had to be the example to do it first, because if I did it, others would naturally follow.”
So are you upset or not? “So you decided to visit me?” Inaho doesn’t bother to hide the incredulity in his voice. Lemrina bites her lip, but it’s clear she’s stifling laughter.
Eddelrittuo puts her hands on her hips, and looks up at Inaho vexed again. “Obviously this isn’t my idea of this ‘vacation’ thing. When the Count told me to take off from work, I wanted to hang around the Landing Castle to help out. It’s my time off so I could right? But then Mazuurek asked me to run errands.”
“... You could have refused. If it’s your vacation, it means time away from work.”
Eddelrittuo looks horrified. “ Disobey direct orders from the Count?! I am an exemplary maid! I would never! ”
Trying to comprehend this further might just undo all the progress I’ve done with my recovery. I’ll send Mazuurek a list of materials to help him when I can, he’ll need it . “I see. So, what was the errand?”
“He wanted me to bring you... this!” She reaches into her bag and takes out a carefully wrapped up bottle.
He unwraps it as Lemrina looks over his shoulder. “... Alcohol?”
Eddelrittuo is looking proud again. “Not just any alcohol! That liquor was especially made in Count Mazuurek’s territory! He said he wants to start promoting it to other places, so you better show respect and be thankful he let you have such a thing for free!”
Is he planning to supplement his economic revenue by finally taking up trading? This is a luxury item so it won’t have much of a big impact. Then again, if the impact is small, less attention to him earlier on. And the revenue from this could then be used to invest in better items…
“Tell him I appreciate it. I’ll keep it safe and share it with my sister when I return home.”
Eddelrittuo looks satisfied. “Good!” She glances at Lemrina and hesitates. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Is that her loyalty to the Royal family, or did she grow fond of Lemrina after being with her for two years? So long as it isn’t pity it should be—
“I’m fine , thank you,” Lemrina says, too curtly.
Whether Eddelrittuo meant is a friendly gesture or not no longer mattered; Lemrina had interpreted it as pity.
It’s not enough to deter Eddelrittuo. “Now that Count Mazuurek managed to kick me out, I’m going to stay here. I know that if I come back earlier he’ll just send me on another long errand again. So, if you need me, or you just want to talk about… about our work, you can call me!”
“There won’t be a need,” Lemrina insists.
“Certainly, give us your address,” Inaho says instead, and ignores the glare from Lemrina.
He doubted he’d need it, but it might be useful to know where she was staying at, to use her to move around if he needed an excuse.
*
Inaho is finally seen as fit to walk outside soon enough.
Lemrina wonders if she should be polite and act happy for him, but decides not to when Inaho barely blinks at the news.
“It’s only natural. I’ve been fit to do so for some time, but since I never insisted on leaving, they decided to make use of that and pay extra heed. Everything points to me being discharged on time, so naturally they can’t keep me away from open spaces for longer, as they need to see how I react to the public. Besides, the level of rehabilitation necessary has been exaggerated from the start, to dissuade the UFE from using me more.”
Lemrina shakes her head at the predictability of his answer and focuses on moving her feet, frustration bubbling at being unable to follow suit just yet.
“You started your own rehabilitation after mine,” Inaho points out. “If we consider time spent and results, you are making progress faster.”
Is he trying to console her for not being allowed to walk with him? It doesn’t quite work.
“It’s not as if I’m missing out on anything,” Lemrina says, more for herself than him, and even Inaho knows better than to contradict such a thing.
He could have argued in favor of allowing her, accompanied by him, to walk outside with her crutches. However, while Inaho knows the UFE is not monitoring his every move, he has plans he’d rather not have something as conspicuous as someone on crutches accompanying him.
He barely pays attention to the rest of the medical facility as he walks to the exit; he only notes that it remains unchanged, as expected.
Outside he pauses and pays more attention. The flow of people remains the same as the last time he had been there. No, perhaps it had increased slightly.
Nothing he’d seen had reached the number of crowds he’d witnessed in his birth city before the war, but compared to other places, he supposed this city could be considered of the more populated ones for the current standards.
Just as well for him, as with that many people, he’d be able to find an exclusive martian bar.
Not that, technically, exclusivity was allowed. Asseylum had been vocal against bars that attempted to be specific to any race… which did not mean people had not found ways to circumvent that.
There are two places he’s been told of. One is a bar recommended by Lemrina, as the base for those of her faction in the city.
Not that she had to tell him that. The name alone was clear enough the owner was feeling disinclined to the current martian rule: The Sons of Zeus .
Even as Inaho is amused at the name —is it overconfidence that no one would understand the bar was, in a way, referencing the Dioscuri , or boldness to not care for consequences?— he would rather not go there. He wants to hear the regular opinion of martians, not the chatter of already converted dissidents.
Which brings him to the restaurant recommended by Mazuurek.
He finds it, entrance half hidden in a narrow alley, and it’s name is equally amusing to him: Prometheus Restaurant .
Martians quite enjoy their Greek. I wonder if the connection in name is on purpose.
There is no window to the inside, and the door is closed, manned by a waitress who jumps to attention when it becomes clear Inaho plans to enter.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the man says politely, “I’m afraid we are full. Do you have a reservation, sir?”
And as easily as that, a place could guarantee exclusivity while flying under the radar.
Wordlessly, Inaho takes out and shows him the token Mazuurek had long ago handed him for such a situation. The waiter examines it and smiles, opening the door for him to enter.
It’s dimly lit and, while not truly full, has a decent number of seated people. Inaho finds a table in between two filled ones and sits down. A television overhead is playing the news. He orders something and settles down for listening in.
For a while, nothing relevant is being said. At the table behind him are a couple who are lightly mocking their Count and laughing at their brilliance at having used an errand to make a date week between them. The table in front of Inaho has three martians who are unaffiliated to any Count —did they defect or have their Count die? They never say, but all martians on Earth are military so they must have worked for one— discussing the jobs they’ve been doing in the city to make ends meet. Sadly nothing relevant of the operations is being said, as they are clearly very low on the hierarchy and simply bemoan their work.
And then food and drinks arrive for both tables, and the conversations all converge into awe. Awe at what they’re currently tasting, reminiscent awe over things they’ve tasted before, and hopeful awe at what they’re planning to taste next.
Inaho’s own appetizer arrives, and it isn’t anything he hasn't tasted before.
If martians are still reacting like this to terran food after all this time, then the quality of their food on Vers is worse than I presumed.
And then, finally, something of use to him is said.
It happens, naturally, the moment the television brings news of Asseylum. A hush falls over the restaurant as everyone, even the waiters, stop to look at the news.
It’s nothing much: Asseylum is seen somewhere in Africa, talking to an affected population still struggling after the war, saying she feels for their plight and pledging to help.
“We are all humans,” Asseylum says to a microphone, surrounded by bodyguards, “we should not be harming each other. Vers will make up for the pain it caused our terran brothers and sisters.”
“Why are they so sure the war is the cause for their issues?” Someone grumbles in the restaurant. “I heard terrans were all fighting themselves before we came along.”
“Right, right. That’s why Vers was created in the first place, wasn’t it? To get less people on Earth to fix their problems.”
“Why is she pledging to help them when she hasn’t even helped us ?” One of the people on the table ahead of Inaho says, voice a little too loud. His companion hisses at him for it, but no one else tries to argue.
No other complaint is forthcoming, but even Inaho can read the displeasure on the faces around him. It’s soon gone, however.
This is not enough for a revolution, but the dissatisfaction has already settled in. If the dissidents want, they can spread and increase resentment until Asseylum’s defenders become the minority.
Inaho waits longer, but there is nothing else of note.
As he leaves, he glances at the name of the restaurant again, and wonders if in the future any call back to Prometheus will be removed.
*
Slaine lays in his bed, running over his talk with Klancain again. No matter how much he thinks back to it, or how much time passes, he can’t get any additional clarity.
Inaho should be coming back in less than a month, if he doesn’t dawdle, but Slaine doubts he will bring back any news of Klancain. Even if the man had requested that he keep the identity from Inaho, it would be foolish of him to go so soon. Whoever he has in his pocket in the UFE might accept a meeting with Slaine… but one followed quickly by a meeting with Inaho? No, Klancain had done everything slowly so far, he could afford to wait longer.
Slaine frowns as he looks at the dark ceiling. That is something he’s wondering about. Why has Klancain been so slow? Certainly, by letting things run their course, the martian acceptance of the Empress may decrease naturally… but he runs the risk of terrans fortifying themselves. Is it a mere oversight of Klancain’s? Slaine doubts it. Either Klancain has less power than he seems, and thus can barely make a move, or he is waiting for something.
How many times have I come back to this? There’s no point, there are too many possibilities, I need Inaho’s insight for this.
Not that Slaine is too frustrated. He had expected to gleam little from the conversation; his main priority was finally seeing who the leader was, and setting in motion his plan with Inaho.
If nothing else, hopefully I succeeded in…
In keeping Inaho alive?
Slaine blinks, and sits up from his bed as the realization dawned. He quickly covers his mouth with a hand before a nervous laugh escapes. He doesn’t want the guard coming in wondering why he is awake.
He could have gotten rid of him. Inaho is useful, but hardly as much as he had been before the brain damage. Not to mention, his status as a terran makes it clear where his allegiances would always truly lie.
If Slaine had wanted to, he could have instead told Klancain that Inaho will be a liability, no matter how nice he is to Slaine in his captivity. The Warden is in Klancain’s pocket, so is Harklight.
Honestly… they could even recreate what they had done for the Empress: stage an accident, murder Inaho, put Lemrina in disguise in his place.
Laughter bubbles again, and Slaine grabs the pillow to muffle it.
He hadn’t even contemplated that. He had so little desire of wanting to harm Inaho now that when the singular chance presented itself all he could focus on was how to protect him instead.
All that time he had wanted him gone and yet failed at every turn… and finally the opportunity only presents itself when he no longer has any desire to do it.
It truly is as if the universe is laughing at him.
Even so… more than the hilarious irony of it all, the situation feels… freeing.
For the first time, for truly the first time, Slaine feels the burden of their roles gone.
No matter how much Inaho treated him as an equal, and no matter how much Slaine truly believed it, the fact never changed that Inaho had his life in his hands.
Now, even if a little, Slaine has a similar power.
Maybe it shouldn’t change anything, yet it does, even if Slaine can’t quite place what.
*
“Do you have a detailed world map? No, of course you don’t. Do you have a personal device that can use the internet?”
Lemrina blinks. Inaho visiting her room was unexpected enough, and his appearance by asking strange questions was even more so.
“... Yes, I do not have a map. And no, I don’t have a personal device of that sort. Why?”
Inaho sits down on her bed. “I knew the probability was very low, but had to check.”
She observes him. She still can’t read his face, but Inaho is talking faster and being ruder than normal.
This may be his way of being upset. “What’s wrong? Why the map? Why not use your tablet?”
Inaho sighs. “They took away my personal tablet when I got here and gave me a pre-approved one, to avoid my looking at material that might overload my neural senses.”
“And this new tablet won’t allow you to look at a map?”
“It would. But it’s not as safe as mine.”
“Start from the beginning. Why do you need a map and why must it be kept a secret?”
“Inko called me. Inko is—”
“I know who she is, Rayet told me.”
“Inko and my other friends had been planning to pass by me here in a week, but the Deucalion’s route has been changed.”
“... I’m not following.” She hates to admit it, but she doubts Inaho will explain if she doesn't say it.
Inaho hesitates before replying. “The Deucalion has a pre-established route. It has never needed to be changed.”
“Did Inko not have a reason for the change?”
“They told her that with the escalating tension and suspicion due to the Landing Castle massacre, they want to avoid the Deucalion moving in the same pattern as it has for the last year, to avoid it becoming a target from martians. And the new route would also be better for monitoring all the Landing Castles as it focuses on Europe.”
Lemrina huffs. “Well, apart from the fact that we know it wasn’t my people that did it, isn’t this a logical step? The Deucalion is the most well known symbol of terran power, after all.”
“As you said, the UFE knows martians are nowhere near to attacking them yet. That said, yes, this could be simply a ruse to make it more believable that the UFE is just as worried and in the dark about the attack as anyone else. However, there are two other possibilities.”
“Which are?”
“They could be using this to have attention focused on the Deucalion, and with that act elsewhere without being noticed.”
Finally Lemrina understands. “They want attention on the Deucalion to attack another Landing Castle.”
“Possibly. However these two hypothesis—”
“Are you not exerting yourself?”
Inaho frowns. “I have less than three weeks before I’m discharged. I can do this much without backlash.”
“Alright. You were saying?”
“The two hypothesis we’ve talked about so far are easy to verify: if the Deucalion changing route becomes news, then indeed either the UFE wants to act worried over martians, or it wants attention diverted to the Deucalion. I’ve already checked the news, and there is nothing of the sort so far.”
“It could be early days yet. Official announcements often need to be reviewed. If your friends just learned of it, maybe it’s still being sent to the press. But, where does the map come in?”
“... If this change isn’t advertised at all, then something else is being done. I have one or two ideas, but I don’t want to voice probabilities without first checking a map. My knowledge of the European continent isn’t detailed enough to visualize their route and what they’ll be passing through without one.”
“... I think they’ll be allowing me to walk out of this place soon, I could look for one.”
“Bringing back a map will be strange. There is a museum close by. My sister took me to it the first time I was here, there’s a map that will suffice. I would go there myself but, in this case I think it would be prudent to be careful. So I’d like to have you with me as an excuse.”
“Alright. But if you need to acquire one faster—”
“I don’t. Even if we had confirmation, there is nothing we can do, so we might as well be cautious about it.”
“... I see.”
*
There is no news of the Deucalion the next day, or the next, or the following days either.
Lemrina sees Inaho frown sometimes, as he watches the news channels intently.
Perhaps a kinder person than Lemrina might try to placate him with platitutes on how maybe the staff is hiding such information from them, as a means to avoid a lapse in Inaho’s recovery now that it is almost done.
No, there is no reason for them to hide something so simple from him. And he isn’t the sort to feel better by silly words.
It is, however, frustrating to not know what are the possibilities Inaho is worrying about. But Lemrina’s pride won’t let her beg for information he has already refused to impart. She can demand answers again when they manage to procure a map.
If Slaine was around, he’d be able to keep up with Kaizuka and would explain it to me without acting like it’s an obvious conclusion to make.
“Your— Lemrina?” A timid voice brings her back from her reverie, and Lemrina is forced to focus on Eddelrittuo again.
The maid had decided to visit her, and Lemrina didn’t want to cause a stir by refusing to meet.
Worst of all, Eddelrittuo had assured her yet again she’d spend the remainder of her vacation nearby, in case Lemrina wanted her help.
“I apologize, my mind was far off. You were saying?” She asks with a plastered smile.
“N-Not a problem! I just said that it’s amazing how much progress you’ve made!”
Lemrina wants to use her once again functioning legs to kick the girl. Instead she keeps on her smile and pretends to focus on her physical exercise, to avoid having to look at Eddelrittuo.
It’s not, truly, as if the maid has done her ill. She treated Lemrina very well during their time working together, giving her the full respect and attention a legitimate royal member deserved.
… But Lemrina had caught her wistful gazes at her comatose sister. Much like Slaine, Eddelrittuo had seen her as a replacement for Asseylum, and had always hoped that was only temporary.
Of course, if she had forgiven Slaine for that, she could hardly lash out at Eddelrittuo for the same.
No, if the maid’s former actions had simply not created a bond between them, it had not brought out vengeance as well. What was making Lemrina wish to kick the girl out was her actions now. More precisely, her looks.
The pity. The terrible pity in her eyes. Eddelrittuo had never loved her, yet here she is throwing out praises for every little thing. As if she had seen Lemrina as so pitiful and weak that even this much success was beyond expectation. As if she needed validation to succeed. As if she was so miserable she needed the pity of a pathetic little maid who couldn’t even decide her own loyalties.
Slaine is alive. She wants to say that. It would shock Eddelrittuo more than any slap or kick would. She has the words on the tip of her tongue.
You think you can afford to act like I’m beneath you? Like I need your pity and your kindness and your silly little praises? Do you think your words or existence mean anything to me, change anything of mine? Foolish little girl! Pity yourself and the stupid life you’ve led. You gave your all to my sister, did you know she has kept Slaine prisoner all this time? She lied about his involvement, while he is alive and kicking and thanks to her, will never see the light of day! Pity—
She realizes she is stepping too hard and stops, breathing in deeply. To not only shake Eddelrittuo, but even make her fully push away Asseylum would feel vindictive but…
But that feeling would leave, and I’ll just feel guilty. This girl is so young. If my sister, who prepared all her life to rule, can turn out so pathetic, who am I to grow bitter over a little maid, who was taught nothing at all?
So what if she pities me now. I won’t be forced to bear this for long. Soon she will leave, and Kaizuka will treat me like I’m not in rehabilitation at all. Then I can go see Rayet, and Slaine, and Harklight, who will be happy for me but won’t look at me like I’m a charity case…
She sighs. Eddelrittuo is immediately alert.
“Is everything alright? Should I call someone? Can I help?”
Lemrina looks at the eager little face… and pities her instead.
“I might have stepped incorrectly just now, help me to a seat.” She doesn’t request, she demands, even if softly, yet Eddelrittuo happily obliges.
Maybe she doesn’t pity me as much as I think. Maybe what she wants is to be useful. Is she trying to make up for having chosen Asseylum?
… It doesn’t matter. Let her have her peace. I’ve found mine.
As for Slaine… no, she wouldn’t tell her. It would help no one.
Enough people are broken. If all goes well, one day she will know the truth. Let her have her last few moments of innocence.
Eddelrittuo helps her to a seat. Lemrina looks at her and smiles. “Thank you,” she says, then can’t help but giggle.
“What is it?”
“Oh, I apologize for laughing. I’m just… happy I’ve come this far.”
Actually, I’m imagining Rayet’s face if I tell her meeting her has stopped me from lashing out at a martian.
*
Another week, and finally Lemrina’s legs are good enough that she’s allowed out. She makes a show of telling staff she wants to visit the museum she heard is nearby, and Inaho agrees to take her there.
Inaho glances at Lemrina as they walk unheeded towards the exit of the medical facility. She seems focused on walking but nothing else.
Then again, this won’t be the first terran city she has visited, so it’s expected that she wouldn’t be nervous or excited about it.
They walk through a doorway and find themselves in a crowded corridor, with nurses running left and right, and people with physical disabilities being helped around. Inaho ignores it all, naturally as he’s been walking by alone for a while now, but Lemrina pays attention.
“It’s always surprising when I see how crowded the rest of the facility is,” Lemrina says as they pass by the doorway to a room where some wait in a line for physical training.
“It’s because we have connections, so we are rewarded with more space fully dedicated to us.”
Lemrina sighs. “I know.”
“This way,” Inaho says, then walks without waiting for her. His pace isn’t fast, so Lemrina can keep up without struggle. A good thing, as she’d never put herself low enough to ask Kaizuka to slow down for her sake.
Lemrina looks at their surroundings intently as they walk, then turns to him. “I always wondered, looking at all the buildings, is the sparse population a direct result of the last war only?”
“It depends on the location. Although everywhere was impacted by the last attempted invasion, many locations were already partially abandoned as a result of Heaven’s Fall.”
“... Although Mars is a vast planet, the habitable land is small. I have heard the soldiers talk about it, and seen pictures: the streets are lined with people. They have barely any space to walk, much less live. Meanwhile Earth has all this space… Vers could come here and inhabit it without needing to kill more terrans.”
“It’s not so simple. Not every land is equal in resources. Not everywhere can handle now the population density it once could.”
“I know. I’m just saying, it isn’t impossible.”
Inaho doesn’t bother to answer, as they’ve reached their destination.
The museum was hastily created; Inaho assumes the reasoning being that with the popular medical facility nearby, the museum might thrive.
It was set up in an abandoned office building with a large reception area.
“Lead the way,” Inaho whispers; although he is now certain he is being too cautious, since he can afford to do so, he will.
Lemrina nods, and steps ahead as if leading Inaho to where she wants to go. They pass by the entrance to the martian center as she heads straight to where the Earth exhibit is.
As expected, the room is dominated with a hologram 3-D map of Earth as it is. Thankfully, they are alone.
Inaho reaches out to touch it, and the map amplifies where his fingertip landed.
“It’s interactive, if you want,” he says nonchalantly to Lemrina, who nods and pushes him aside, understanding her cue.
She looks at the map: Inaho had amplified it in Europe.
Was that by chance or is that where he wants me to focus? This is Kaizuka, I’m sure even this was thought out.
Unwilling to ask for more directions, Lemrina focuses on pretending to be engrossed in it.
It soon isn’t pretense.
So much land, and it all had people living in it? Or perhaps, like the city itself, there was so much space for more…
Focus.
Inaho had told her what to look for before they’d arrived, so she simply scrolls around Europe, between the parts Inaho wants and her random choices.
She’s not sure how long she stood there; being able to see a detailed layout of Earth really did interest her, but eventually Inaho cuts her wandering hand.
“You’ve spent too much time at this, let’s go back,” he says, and Lemrina instinctively becomes defensive.
“It wasn’t that long!” She snaps, before realizing it’s likely just his excuse now that he’s seen enough. Lemrina tries to read the conclusion on his face, but it’s fruitless as usual.
Lemrina wishes she could say she patiently waited until they were back to the medical center to demand answers, but she makes it only as far as the empty road before rounding on Inaho.
“So?”
Inaho doesn’t look at her, but his brows crease slightly. “You need to understand this is mere conjecture, although I believe the probability of this happening to be around 80%—”
“Yes, yes! What is your theory?”
“... The Count that is currently aggressively campaigning against the UFE has a protection the last Count did not. His Landing Castle is based deep within the continent, so using abandoned ships like the last operation isn’t a possibility.”
“So the UFE would use the Deucalion? But that is so conspicuous.”
“Yes, too much so. There are abandoned military bases or simply half destroyed cities all over Earth that could be used for a short, secret, operation. Initially I had assumed that the UFE would take time, around months, to slowly arm and staff one of those near the Landing Castle without their movements being noticed. To try and make use of that in a short period without anyone noticing the movement of armaments and personnel would normally not be possible, in the layout.”
“Which is why you thought the Deucalion might be used as a distraction? Because while everyone looks at it, they could operate more freely?”
“Yes, but that is also flawed. Not everyone will focus that much on a simple route change, and not for long enough, unless they plan to have the Deucalion do more for attention. However, it’s been a week and so far there has been no news about it; which brings me to my other theory, which the map has confirmed.”
“Which is?”
“... The Deucalion will be used to transport people and tools to a chosen settlement. Whenever they land in a larger city, they’ll likely get people to secretly board along with equipment, then drop them off at strategic spots. Given the size of the Deucalion, and that the UFE can also supplement what it carries through some small ground operations, they can speed it up and have the bare minimum for training ready in weeks, and launch an attack in less time afterwards.”
“... You got all that from a map.” To her chagrin, Lemrina’s words don’t come at as flat as she hoped, and there’s a small tone of admiration.
If Inaho notices it, he takes no heed and simply shrugs. “Not necessarily just that map. I had previous knowledge I needed to confirm by viewing one.”
“So you knew which settlement they’d use for operations.”
“No, there are countless places and bases that could work. The relevant information isn’t that, but the traceability of the route chosen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Not all of Earth is covered in connectivity. The war, the destruction, the weapons used all caused spots where signals and transmissions don’t work well or at all unless you are side by side. Even if the Deucalion did carry equipment and people, anyone tracing it would notice if it kept landing in a spot that should have nothing. However, if the Deucalion does the landing in a transmission blind spot, no one far away would be able to tell.”
“So you… knew where the blindspots were?”
“I had a general overview, as it was necessary to either avoid or use them when we were in the Deucalion, especially trying to reach the Russian base. The map was necessary to confirm my memory: the route they are taking does pass through blindspots, two of which are right over abandoned bases.”
“I believe that’s what must be happening.”
“Don’t be too sure just yet. But we might know soon enough, maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell Dr. Yagarai I plan to stay another week around here after my treatment is done. If the UFE, however, tells me to go back home when it’s done, or even recalls me before I am done—”
Lemrina sucks in her breath. “They’ll want you to return to prepare to bring in Slaine.”
“Precisely. Obviously they could take longer and take Slaine by other means, but the longer the transport, the more danger of Slaine being seen or escaping there is, which they will never risk. In twenty six days the Deucalion will be on the route point nearest to Slaine’s location, so that is when they’ll want him to board it.”
“Let’s think of something we can do with the information in the meanwhile,” Lemrina says, though what she really means is that she’s hoping Kaizuka can come up with a plan.
“I don’t know if there is anything to be done.”
“There must be!”
*
But when they arrive back, Dr. Yagarai is waiting for them, looking both grave and apologetic.
“Inaho… I truly am sorry but… your presence was requested back in your home. Your… work has been piling up, it seems.”
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
Notes:
-A sentence was changed in the last chapter in the exchange between Inaho and Yagarai. I forgot that it was clear the UFE knew Inaho could use aldnoah, and a comment thankfully reminded me. The sentence was changed not long after I posted it, so if you've read last chapter recently, you probably got the corrected setence.
-I forgot to add this to ch39 but, after the 2year wait between ch37 and 38 I never imagined I'd get so many comments. I'm really thankful for everyone who comes back to read despite the ridiculous update frequency and then comment too!
-On how aldnoah works: I talked it over with some people. Many thanks to the Discord group chat for giving me the supposed poem that explain how it works. That said, the whole “oh it works with love/loyalty” thing is… bullshit to me. For many reasons. I wanted to explain them here but… let’s see if the characters don't eventually explain in the fic. If they don't, i'll make a future note explaining the reasoning behind what Ive chosen. because I have given up and decided I need to pick what I want because canon is so filled with plotholes over this that there is no valid answer there.
-My beta has begged me to go back and beta the early chapters (which had no beta). After even commenters started offering to beta those chapters, I came to the conclusion they were really that in need of work, so my beta is not only betaing the new chapter, but has now gone back to do former chapters too. Thank my poor beta. As of this moment, chapters 01 has been redone and reuploaded to AO3 a bit after this new chapter. I need to figure out if reuploading old chapters will make AO3 act like I’m uploading new content. I dont want to reupload and accidently have readers think theres new chapters, so I might only reupload along with new content, depending.
Regardless, here are the changes being made, so you guys dont fret: NO changes to story. No matter how cheesy or clunky i feel dialogue or plot progression used to be, any redoing of written plot will not be done, and in the rare case that I realize I should redo it, I will absolutely warn people in current chapter notes. But i feel like that cheapens the experience and i dont recall a need for that, so assume NO plot content is being altered. Changes are: fixing grammar and punctuation mistakes. Also removing the usage of “blond” “brunet” descriptors, as I’ve since realized using those arent that good and its better to just work harder on sentences to use names without too much repetition. Clunky or cheesy sentences will stay as they were (though my beta is still also fixing those in the current chapters).
-Deucalion is Prometheus son.
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De atracos y ab*rtos - Of heists and ab*rtions or How women are being robbed.
⚠️ this contains major spoilers for LA CASA DE PAPEL / MONEY HEIST season 1, specifically episode 3!
Personally, I have experienced the series la casa de papel (original title) or money heist as progressive, realistic and not afraid to deal with certain topics like domestic violence which I will be commenting on in posts yet to be published, female trans representation and occasionally peppered with numerous feminist parentheses (see characters like Nairobi and dialogues around/involving her opinion).
However, there are certain aspects I did not enjoy to watch / do not support. That is normal and every show has its flaws, those resulting all the more dangerous however, as money heist is not just any show. The series is thanks to its popularity by now a relevant aspect of people’s opinion-forming and plays into the perception of many people all around the world, coming from different cultures and having experienced all kinds of upbringing. The target audience is not specified, yet crime drama (the genre) is estimated to target both females and males aged 15-40 years old. Means, also targeting minors and adolescents. Again, all cultures / religions / races / classes etc etc included.
I am fully aware that this kind of range was not expected and therefore not taken into account by producers, talking about the first two seasons that were solely meant for a Spanish audience, not an international one. (The series was initially intended as a limited series to be told in two parts. It had its original run of 15 episodes on Spanish network Antena 3 from 2 May 2017 through 23 November 2017. Netflix acquired global streaming rights in late 2017). The analysed / discussed scene is indeed part of this maybe not so carefully crafted content. Cough.
Let’s get right into it.
Characters interacting: Mónica Gaztambide (Esther Acebo), one of the hostages who was also Arturo Román's secretary and introduced as his mistress and “Denver” (Jaime Lorente), one of the robbers participating in the heist [Denver is an alias, all robbers being referred to with city names]
Context: Mónica has an affair with Arturo Román (Enrique Arce) -hostage and former Director of the Royal Mint of Spain- which leads to an unwanted pregnancy. Numerous factors influence her (for now) final decision: she doesn’t want the child. Shortly after, the robbery unfolds and she’s taken hostage among other people. She then requests an ab*rtion pill, which at some point arrives in the mint alongside other medical supplies. The scene analysed: one of the robbers (Denver) is supposed to hand her mentioned ab*rtion pill. Before that he holds an emotional speech on the subject, morally risen forefinger, accusations and tears included.
Here the dialogue without comments:
————Now my opinion / the actual post:
“You need money, right?” One might think that the amount of money seen in this frame (20.000,-€ approx. $21.701,50 according to Denver) is an exaggerated, way too generous gesture. Let me tell you, it is not.
According to a 2017 report from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the average cost of raising a child from birth [to] age 17 is $233,610. If that made your heart skip a beat, take a deep breath before you read on. Incorporating inflation costs, it will be more like $284,570. Since that’s based on 2015 numbers, we can expect the cost will be even higher, babies born since then.
[…] This average includes everything from housing, food and transportation to healthcare, education and childcare to clothing, personal care items and entertainment.
Let me now remind you that Mónica is a secretary, so she likely earns (barely) enough money to be financially independent herself (taking into account that she lives near or maybe even in Madrid, her workplace, the Royal Mint situated there, so housing alone is hella expensive) and can’t really expect reliable support coming from the potential child’s father, Arturo Román, either, who initially denied support himself, their relationship a secret to the family and wife he already has. Phew.
Btw: A University of California at San Francisco study found that women who were turned away from ab*rtion clinics […] were three times more likely to be below the poverty level two years later than women who were able to obtain ab*rtions. 76% of the "turnaways" ended up on unemployment benefits, compared with 44% of the women who had ab*rtions.
“Enough to get the kid diapers until he graduates.” The problem or let’s say points raised above are now also being ridiculed or not taken seriously to say the least.
She takes the money, sticking to her decision however. “So, what’s the problem?” Or “Then, what is it?” A million additional things, Denver, believe it or not a potential child is a big deal. That and none of your business.
Also, see the reaction? How he stares at her in disbelief (and possibly even disgust, see the risen corner of his lips?). How he looks at her as if she were heartless, selfish, a monster – the picture often painted in this debate when it comes to women who decide to terminate a pregnancy. How he doesn’t respect her “no, thanks” and continues. Continues influencing her, later on even starts to mansplain his way into her stone cold heart. Okay, then let me continue as well.
“That he’ll f*ck up your life? […] Your son. Better to have your life f*cked up by your son than any of these sons of b*tches. Or me.” Call it ‘f*ck up’ or not – that is entirely her perception, her decision and I’d dare to say…she knows best.
First, because regardless of the fact that she is a woman and you are not – well it is indeed her life and, uhm, excuse me Denver, you’re no sibling, no friend, no acquaintance, quite the contrary, you have known her for what? Three minutes and already jump to conclusions?
Take the privilege of explaining her how a child would f*ck or not f*ck up her life?!!
Secondly, what makes him assume the gender of this cluster of cells, this potential future life, this basis for a potential life that may later on develop into a life (it is not a walking talking baby boy already, my friend!).
Personhood begins after a fetus becomes “viable” (able to survive outside the womb) or after birth, not at conception.
Does it provide a smooth transition for that awfully funny and figurative “son” – “sons of b*tches” (org. Hijo – hijos de p*ta) line or is it literal propaganda?
Why does he say “your son”, although he cannot possibly know? I’ll tell you. In order to distract the audience from the fact that he is referring to a pea-sized basis for a potential life by painting the picture of an already existing male human being. Mónica, do you really want to murder your son? Mónica, does that cute little doe eyed baby boy really f*ck up your life? Yeah, propaganda at its best.
Also, another example for ridiculing the point “a child would destroy my life” by comparing an unwanted pregnancy to a literal robbery at gun point. Great one.
“This f*cks your life up. A kid doesn’t.” Do you see that raised gun, that is quite literally an extension of a raised index finger? Wow, the drama. On a different note, did you notice the symbolism? A weapon stands for death, murder and guess what is also often equated with murder.
“How do you know what f*cks up my life? What do you know?” Finally. Exactly. He doesn’t know her, like at all. He doesn’t know her situation and no, he’s also not the pregnant one or anyone who would have to worry about that.
What do you answer to that, hmm? Let’s make this whole dispute even more emotional and dramatic. That ‘a cute little son isn’t as bad as a robbery’ didn’t convince her?
Let’s try with an extraordinary f*cked up and tragic life story, nobody asked for. Its goal? Showing the oblivious, naive, little secretary what real ‘f*ck up’ means, despite the evident lack of any sort of knowledge when it comes to her life (story). Again, conclusion-jumping and wallowing in prejudice at its best.
Have a look at his expression while ‘lecturing’ her. How disrespectful, how belittling. ‘Oh please, what do you know about life?’. On a wider scale: ‘How could we possibly trust women to rationally and with a clear conscience decide such things for themselves – concerning life and death, if they have not the slightest idea, living in their bubble of security and stability and no real problems’ etc. This is everything but taking women and their reasoning abilities, their judgement seriously.
“My mother was going to ab*rt me.” Now the audience doesn’t only have the mental image of a potential cute little son, it is furthermore provided with the image of a living, breathing human being standing right in front of them. Just look at him and his pleading puppy dog eyes. No actual child actor could have done it better.
Thank god she did not go through with the ab*rtion, right? Oh thank god she was not allowed to.
Taking advantage of this frame to remind you of the fact that we are still talking about a POTENTIAL future life, not an existing one that is nevertheless put above the mother’s already existing life in this impudent, low and unfair debate.
“But first…she inhaled the heroin she had to sell to be able to pay for the ab*rtion. Then she was caught by the police. Between jail, drugs and the police, I was born. What do you know?”
1)Adding even more emotions, subtle accusations and drama to that oh so rational dispute? Check. Making his situation seem two thousand times worse than hers (which he, again, has no clue about)? Check. Subconsciously painting the picture of reckless, irresponsible drug addicts/ “lowlifes” or generally female members of “society’s margins” usually being the ones to abort and make it seem like the state’s or whoever’s responsibility to prevent them from deciding for themselves? Check.
2) Then he even tears her valid ‘what do you know (about my life)’ out of the initial context of being confronted with endless assumptions and prejudice and blows it way out of proportion in order to demonstrate the insignificance of … everything concerning her? Her background, her life, her reasons. Everything.
And FINALLY *drum rolls* the wild theories and hypotheses and presumptions she was dying to hear because since he, I repeat for the twelfth time, has no actual clue about her life, let’s make up one.
“Because it seems that you don’t have a very exciting job. And maybe outside of work your life is not that great either. Or what is it that you do? ‘Kilates’? And Friday night drinks, right? What a f*cking drag. Another plan ruined by the kid[…]” That and the entire following paragraph. Wow. All accusations thrown at women who decide to abort in one.
Because OF COURSE a middle aged, down to earth, intelligent, responsible woman like Mónica Gaztambide has no other reason for terminating a pregnancy than not being able to drink alcoholic beverages or party anymore. Because OF COURSE it is valid to assume a woman or any person for that matter one has known for half an hour and interacted with for literal five minutes has a boring enough life that would not be affected in any way by a pregnancy, birth and ultimately being forced to raise an unwanted child. Because OF COURSE Denver would know how much a pregnancy can affect somebody, especially one that is forced upon a person. Quite frankly he has no idea and no right. The audacity.
“Do [your friends who are also mothers] seem f*cked up? / Do their lives look f*cked up? No, right?” Because you know best. Not only regarding her life but on top of that also that of her friends. Because those pregnancies or motherhood in general did under no circumstances end a career or prevent them from pursuing one in the first place or cause the end of a relationship or force them to stay in a toxic or even abusive relationship or change their financial situation completely or rob them of their fragile financial independence and/or free time altogether or cause any (mental) health complications or … you get the point. Oh, and because their situations are completely identical to Mónica’s situation, that is additionally not half as dramatic as your life story. Of course, Denver.
Seeing the ‘rational’ argument doesn’t really work, let’s add yet another dramatic, emotional rhetorical question. As a precaution.
“Do you know how much a child can love you?”
How could she, being the heartless, cruel, selfish, irresponsible, ridiculous and impulsive murderess you’re ‘exposing’ her as?
⚠️ Another spoiler warning for seasons 3 and 4 and still 1.
Would Cincinnati - that’s her sons actual name, not alias – really love her like he does now?
Friendly reminder: his biological father (Arturo Román) let her know - right from the start - that he wouldn’t take on any responsibility whatsoever, regardless of his later statements about doing so. Why those statements don’t matter? Despite his awareness of her state, despite knowing she was pregnant he shortly after urges her on to steal the cellphone she is caught with right after the analysed scene, ready to risk her life and the potential life of his unborn child. Literally, because as soon as she is caught with it, Berlín orders Denver to execute her.
So to those of you who will now say “but- but Cincinnati is okay and has an amazing life and does love her” etc etc, first think certain things through. If Denver wouldn’t have spared her, if she didn’t just happen to get together with him and if the heist didn’t just happen to work out like that, what then?
Cincinnati would have a different name. What else? Well for one, he wouldn’t have a father (that is now Denver) like at all, resulting in possible daddy issues / issues in general. How I know Arturo, the biological father, wouldn’t be there for them, wouldn’t fulfill all his empty promises?
Did he canonically care about his son? Was he devastated that he was not given the possibility to see him or did he instead focus on that random book of his and his speeches about heroism and honour and so on? If he wouldn’t have called his wife by his mistress’s name and through that expose himself, if his family wouldn’t have left him all alone, don’t you think he would stick to them? Just to paint a picture of who the father is and how he behaves and what we can assume from that behaviour. So the probability was high she would’ve been left alone with I quote “all the love” and of course all the responsibility. It’s a thing, Denver.
Secondly, if she didn’t just happen to turn into a millionaire thanks to the heist working out, would she really be able to provide a life for Cincinnati? Would she really be able to remain financially independent? Would her life at her son’s side really be all peace and harmony if she wouldn’t just so happen to be able to live from heist money?
So many coincidences, so many risks and no security. Can we really blame her? Do we have the right?
With these questions I will end this seemingly endless post and leave you to think about it, reflect certain things and – if you want to – share your opinion(s) with me. Please don’t hesitate to do so, as long as those contain rational arguments and most importantly respect. Thank you for reading!
(Also: sorry for the extensive censoring, I had to, otherwise it wouldn’t appear in the tags.)
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Day 65, part 1
Daryl was snoring. Not too loud, I could probably go back to sleep if I tried, but the contrast with the deep silence of the shared room and the corridor woke me up with a start. For a second I couldn’t picture where I was, the shriek cry of a baby that had been only in my dreams fading to nothing as I looked around trying to understand the singing crickets and cicadas’ absence. On the couch by the cot, now not reeking any sort of smell, Daryl didn’t even more a muscle, his low, constant snoring lulling my heart back to a normal beat.
A clock on the wall above the door showed it was early morning. At camp, the group would be up and about by now, woken up by the growing heat inside the tents. The silence showed it was not the case this morning. I thought it was good; these people deserved a lie in to get some rest.
I got up, though, and padded silently to the tiny adjoining toilet, where I found a small pack with disposable toothbrush and paste. Making a mental note to put it in my bag later if we ever had to leave this place, because the toothpaste I had brought from home was being scrapped out of the package already, I brushed my teeth, drank water from the faucet and washed my face before tying back my headful of dreads. Daryl was still snoring when I quietly left the room.
Jenner was in the cafeteria, the same we all had had dinner the previous night, behind the counters filling a mug of fresh coffee.
“Good morning,” he told me with a small, forced smile. “I think I probably shouldn’t offer you coffee.”
“Oh,” I said as I stood on the other side of the counter. “’Cause pregnant women shouldn’t drink coffee?”
“Well, yeah, people say. I wouldn’t know, I’ve always focused on other areas of medicine.”
“Right. Yeah, it’s – so you got the result then.”
“Yep,” he popped after a sip of coffee.
“Right. Yeah…” Ilooked down with both hands on the counter.
“Mazel Tov,” he said saluting with his mug and I looked at him again, snorting a laugh.
“Yeah, thanks. Fuck…”
Jenner went silent, staring at me with his brows creased. I didn’t know him at all, but it seemed to me that he was worried and thoughtful, maybe.
“Hey, I’m the girl in trouble here having to give birth and raise a child during the end of the world. Why’d ya look like that?”
“Well... it’s, uh… That’s it, isn’t it? A child, the dead…”
“Yeah, I’m a bit more positive now that we’ve found shelter,” I crossed my arms and stared up at him. “Right? We didn’t talk about this, I know, but I was wondering how this works. I got a big group, an elder man, a child, these women who are just now learning how to defend themselves… And now I got a bun in the oven confirmed, so I’d be kinda worried if we got to go back out there. This place might’ve saved our lives,” I paused and looked at Jenner for a moment. He had rested his mug down, still staring at me. “If we don’t stay, well... Gotta be prepared for this, anyway, you know, women’ve had babies for hundreds of thousands of years in nature, living in caves, defending helpless kids from animals and whatever…”
I then took a deep breath, suddenly nervous about the prospect, contrary to my words. Having it confirmed and my otherwise flat stomach showing turned everything even more real, scarier, and the timing of the unfortunate accident this pregnancy was just stunned me.
“I must say,” Jenner started after a few seconds of silence. “I’m impressed by your positivity. Really,” he looked down, nodding to himself, lips tight.
“Okay, what is it, Doc?” I lost it, but tried not to be rude. “I ain’t blind, alright? You ain’t just worried about some random pregnant person who you met. What is it? What you worried about? You ain’t gonna let us stay here, is that it?”
He looked up quickly holding out a hand to me, “Hey, it’s – it’s nothing, ok? Just –” he started walking backwards, away from me. “Don’t worry about it now. I just – I have work to do. Excuse me.”
I tried to say something but he was gone before I could think of how to persuade him to tell me that the hell was happening in his mind. Something was seriously wrong and, with an icy feeling on my stomach – maybe the child had felt it too – I was certain this shelter was not what we had dreamed of. Entering it had been a miracle, and there were no more miracles these days.
And holy fuck, I really was fucking pregnant!
“Hey, you alright over there?”
Startling out of my reverie, I saw T-Dog having just arrived, standing by the counter. I smiled, giving some poor excuse and greeting him with a smile, not mentioning any worries. Together, T-Dog and I started fumbling in the cafeteria cabinets as to find something to make the group breakfast. The man was by the stove doing his best to prepare powdered eggs and I was mixing some artificial juice when the others began to flow into the space, most of them quietly. Glenn looked the worst, eventual groans demonstrating just how bad he felt. Dale, Andrea, Lori and Carl were also sitting with bowls of old but still good cereal.
“Dude, did you puke yet?” I asked Glenn as I stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder. He groans louder and hangs his head. Carl, a mouthful of cereal, laughs at him. “If ya haven’t you should, trust me, you’ll feel better.”
Rick joined us just as T was serving scrambled eggs that surprisingly seem to be good and Lori was handing Glenn some aspirins. As they all started to eat, I leaned against the counter, sipping on my glass of juice. I was quiet with a smile so it would seem like I was following the conversations and quiet teasing going on by the table, but my mind is only half there.
I knew I was pregnant, I was sure ‘bout it, why was I feeling this now? I needed to tell them. They had to know, life was about to get shittier for everyone with a knocked-up woman and then a screaming baby. Where was Daryl, still sleeping? The eggs kinda smelled good, I wished there was bacon. Damnit, bacon.
Interrupting my thoughts, Shane passed in front of me like a storm, walking fast and hunched, quickly dismissing the good morning wishes. At the table Lori flinched, looking down at her eggs, and seemed to shrink unbeknownst to anybody other than me, the only quiet and observing one.
“Fell as bad as I do?” Rick, at the head of the table, asked his friend.
“Worse,” is all he said before turning around and heading to the table.
“What the hell happened to you?” T-Dog asked as he met Shane on his way. “Your neck?”
Shane sits nearly across from the Lori, who purposefully busied herself with her food. “Must’ve done it in my sleep.”
“Never seen you do that before,” Rick questioned as I was slowly abandoning my position at the counter and stepping around the table to stand close to Lori without having planned to do so.
Standing there I could see what T-Dog had asked about. Shane had scratch marks on his neck, as perfect as nails. The rest of the table was silent and I was glad I wasn’t the center of attention. Blood had risen to my face and my throat was tight. I was sure Lori had made the marks, simply by her reaction to Shane’s arrival. She’d had to defend herself from him, and that certainty burned on my chest like a physical blow. I remembered Ed slapping Carol – where are Carol and Sophia? Gotta go find them, see if they’re okay – and the desire to do to Shane the same I did to Ed was almost stronger than me.
“Me neither,” Shane answered and stared directly at Lori. “Not like me at all.”
I then took a step closer to Lori’s back, staring at Shane, whose eyes slid up from Lori straight to me. I stopped there and held his eyes hard, my own narrowed and head turning slightly to the left, daring him to say or do anything else or, I don’t know, breathe.
Jenner returned to the cafeteria just then, finishing the subject. I held Shane under my gaze for seconds longer, though. I wanted him to know that, if no one else did, I had noticed and that I’d keep an eye on him. His look going even harder than before told me he got the message.
***
Seeing the image of the brain dying, and then returning to life, though only in few parts, was not exactly news to anybody. It was impressive to see the transformation occurring on the inside, though. Extraordinary brain or not, it was how happened to everybody. It had happened to Amy, it had happened to Jim by now. But we had seen it in real life, we had shot freshly transformed people in the brain to put them to rest. Andrea had done it to her own sister. The mood in the room was now densely gloomy, verging hopelessness. Though he explained the procedure in detail, Dr. Jenner never mentioned a cause.
“You have no idea what it is, do you?” Andrea voices what was everybody’s impression.
“It could be microbial…” he started, vaguely, his answer to the question very clear. “Viral, parasitic, fungal.”
“Ain’t there nobody who’d know that?” I asked from where I was perched on a desk by Daryl. “Other centers, wherever, nobody could take the – the thing and analyze it to know what it is?”
“And how to stop it – kill it, more importantly?” Rick completed my question standing closer to Jenner
“There are others, right?” Carol also added her question. “Other facilities?”
“There may be some. People like me. There’s no way to be sure, though. Everything went down, communications, directives, all of it. I've been in the dark for almost a month.”
“So, it's not just here,” Andrea’s chin trembled as she spoke. “There's nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That's what you're really saying, right?”
The doctor didn’t answer. Instead, he lowered his head as he nodded, and for long seconds nobody spoke a word.
“Well, fuck,” I whispered making the others come out of their shock. Daryl stood up pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, mumbling to himself that he intended to get drunk again.
Behind the group, among the next row of desks and computers, Dale’s voice came changing the subject and alerting the others for something that hadn’t been noticed yet. “Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but... That clock,” he pointed to a wall further away and the whole group looked at its direction. A red digital clock had just marked one hour. “It's counting down. What happens at zero?”
Once again, like it was beginning to be customary for the doctor, he took seconds to answer, looked around as if in doubt of how to phrase something. “The basement generators... they run out of fuel.”
“And then?” Rick asked him, his voice grave, but it had no effect on Jenner. He just lowered his head again and started walking away, completely ignoring the question. Rick looked up at nothing, as if talking to God, “Vi, what happens when the power runs out?”
“When the power runs out,” the robotic voice started. “Facility-wide decontamination will occur.”
* * *
When Daryl entered the room we had shared the previous night, I was already shoving whatever personal belongings I had back inside my backpack.
“Hey, what ya doing?” he asked as he leaned against the doorframe, a bottle of whiskey in hand.
“Just making sure, leaving the bags ready to take and go,” and I entered the touled, collecting the toothpaste. “I don’t like this no-generator-power-fuel thing. The way the guy didn’t even answer what’ll happen – I don’t know. I told the others to have their packs ready too.
“’Kay, I’ll just –”
“Yours’ done already,” I cut him and pointed to his bag on the floor. “Didn’t have much out.”
“What you figure is gonna happen?”
“No fuckin’ clue,” I zipped the bag forcefully and rested my hands on my hips. “But just think ‘bout it, we’re underground, not a single window, if there’s no power at all how’re we gonna have air? You know?” I pointed up and Daryl looked at the vent on the ceiling.
“No lights, no fridge for the food, no air circulating…” he completed my though.
“Nope, don’t seem to me like a place we can be for long. ‘S why I told the others to get ready, Jenner’s gonna have to explain what the fuck we’re gonna do if when the guys come back they say there really ain’t no more fuel.”
Just as the last words filled the tense air of the room, the light went off, leaving only a faint emergency glow coming from the corridor, and the silent place became even more silent as the air from the vents stopped flowing. Everybody was out in the corridor at once, asking questions at Jenner, who had just appeared and was walking resolutely along the hallway. In seconds, the whole group was back in the control room, Rick, Shane, Glenn and T-Dog back from the lower levels informing there really wasn’t any more fuel in the barrels. With his already infamous half-words, Jenner explained shallowly that the system of the building made the decisions, not him, and that air and light were not as important as keeping the computers running until the very last second.
“Alright, that’s it!” I raised my voice above all the others. “Back to the rooms now, everybody, grab your things and we’ll get the fuck outta here!”
For one or two seconds, everybody was following my orders, running towards the door, but everyone froze in place again at the loud, deafening alarm sound and blaring red light that took hold of our senses.
“30 minutes to decontamination,” the robotic, cold voice informed.
“Everybody, you heard Sam!” Rick shouted at the top of his lungs, “Let’s get out of here, now!”
A metal door rose from within the ground just as he spoke, closing the only way out of the room. It had looked like there wasn’t any door there at all, but now it seemed like it was a solid, metal wall. Fear on the verge of despair washed the group like an ice-cold waterfall, screaming and cries and Daryl trying to attack the doctor, who now was calmly sitting down on his fancy chair.
“Jenner, open that door now,” Rick tried, sweat rolling down his face.
“There's no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed.”
“Well, open the damn things!” Daryl yelled from where he was being held away by Shane.
“That's not something I control. The computers do,” Jenner spoke firmly, but still carrying and annoying calm on his words. “I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that.”
“We heard you say they’d stay closed, not that we’d be locked in even if we wanted out!” I yelled, despising how my voice trembled. “You were not very clear ‘bout that, doc!”
“It's better this way.”
“What is better?” Rick asked. “What happens in 28 minutes?”
He didn’t answer, once again, turning away and trying to type something on his computer. There was yelling once again, the men around Jenner trying to get him to talk clearly for once. He finally did, getting up from his chair and screaming and spitting that the whole place had been designed to protect the public from horrible deceases, to keep viruses, bacteria and parasite inside and to just destroy everything in case any of it could ever get out. Calming himself down like what he was about to say was the most calming and reassuring thing, he explained how the system did that.
“It sets the air on fire,” he practically smiled. “No pain. An end to sorrow, grief... Regret. Everything.”
“You mean an end to your sorrow,” I shouldered though the men and got closer to Jenner. “You’re sitting there accepting your fate, the end to your grief, but making us stay when we want to go?”
“Open the damn door!”, Daryl yelled from the door, where he’d started kicking it. Shane approached the door with an axe he had found somewhere and they both attacked it, grunting and making sparks come out of the metal.
“You should've left well enough alone. It would've been so much easier,” Jenner said from his chair, watching us like he’d watch a movie. “You know what's out there... A short, brutal life and an agonizing death!”, he tried to convince us. Looking at Andrea, he proceeded. “Your sister, you know what this does. You've seen it,” and he looked back at Rick. “Is that really what you want for your wife and son?
“I don't want this!”
“There is no hope. There never was…”
“There's always hope!” Rick was nearly crying in anger. “Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here, but somebody somewhere –”
“What part of ‘everything is gone’ do you not understand?” Andrea cried from her spot on the floor.
“Listen to your friend. She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event,” Jenner said with a final tone, like the end of a discussion.
“This isn't right,” Carol was openly crying with Sofia on her arms. “You can't just keep us here!”
“One tiny moment... a millisecond. No pain,” the doctor carried on.
“What the fuck are you trying to convince us about, doctor?” I spoke again. “You want us to sit and accept the air around us will blow up and we’ll die?”
“Wouldn't it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?”
“Wanna hear what’d be kinder? Cause I don’t think you know much ‘bout it,” I bent a little to look at him. “Compassionate would be to let us choose our fate for ourselves. Lock people in and tell them they’ll die ain’t compassionate, it ain’t kind!”
“You may not see it, but I know what I’m talking about. There is nothing else out there other than dead people walking and ready to eat your flesh! Nothing!”
“You’re a fuckin’ liar, you know that?” I angrily whispered, but loud enough for everyone around to hear. “You didn’t kill yourself like the others. You stayed and you were still trying, weren’t you? Why is that, huh?”
“I didn’t stay alive because I wanted to!” he stood up making me straighten my back. Jenner pointed at the screen where he’d shown the image of the transforming brain before. “I made a promise... To her. My wife.”
“Test subject 19 was your wife?” Lori asked him.
“She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no? She was dying. It should've been me on that table. I wouldn't have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field, she was an Einstein. Me? I'm just... Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me.”
I snorted a bitter laugh. “Good. You kept your promise to her right to the end. And then you fucked it all up. Bravo!”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jenner took a step towards me just as Daryl restarted banging his axe on the door.
“You promised, you stayed, you researched, you did all of that. And then right at the end, in the very last minutes of your fuckin’ miserable life, you go and turn yourself into a fuckin murderer. Poor 19… Poor woman who’ll have a murderer for a husband.”
“Murder? Is that what – That’s not what I’m trying to do here!” he screamed and looked around trying to defend himself. “I’m helping you! You all came to me begging for help, and I’ve given it to you! You’re all going to die out there, a suffering, painful death, I’m being compassionate here –”
“Bullshit!” I yelled at his face. “You’re killing us! You’re lockin’ us in and giving us no choice! This is murder, plain and simple. Our lives are not yours to decide. If we wanna go back out there and die fighting to our last breaths, so we should be able to! These children’s lives are their mothers’ to decide about!” I cried out pointing at the direction where Lori and Carol held their kids. Then I pointed to my own stomach. “This child! My child! This life here is mine and I will fight like hell to save it. If we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die fighting. You don’t make this decision for us!”
Nobody seemed to be breathing now. Daryl’s banging on the door had ceased. Jenner stared down at me, eyes on mine for long seconds. Then he shook his head and walked towards the other side of his desk again.
“I told you topside's locked down. I can't open those,” and with a simple card and password, the metal door loudly slid open.
“Come on!” Daryl shouted from the threshold.
“This is the right thing to do,” I pointed at him. “Goodbye, doc!”
“Come on, Sam, let’s go!” Daryl called again as everybody else ran towards the exit.
“We have less than four minutes!” Glenn informed as he reached it.
On my way, I grabbed Jackie, who’d been standing motionless on her spot, and dragged the woman with me. On the rise that led to the door, Jackie stopped.
“No, no, I'm staying. I'm staying, sweetie.”
“What?! No, Jackie!”
“No, it's okay, I know. For the first time in a long time I’m sure about something. I'm not ending up like Jim and Amy.”
“You’re not, Jackie, we’re fighting for –”
“There's no time to argue and no point, not if you want to get out!”
“But Jackie –”
“Just get out, please Sam, you have a baby there! Just please, go!”
“Sam!”, Daryl returned from the hallway where he’d already reached. “Come on, Sam,” he said urgently, though in a muffled voice. “We gotta go now, come on!”
With a last look at Jackie, who nodded and smiled at me, I turned around and let Daryl drag me away.
* * *
Carol had a grenade.
Yep. Carol had a fucking grenade.
When the doors upstairs didn’t bolt even at gun shots, she suddenly took a grenade off her pack and handed it to Rick. He placed it by where the glass had been slightly cracked and everybody fell to the floor waiting for the explosion, Daryl right on top of me covering my whole body with his. The whole world shook as the glass broke at the explosion, the group climbing through the hole and out of the condemned building. Walkers outside fell like leaves at our shots, just not as scary as they had been just hours before. With seconds to spare everybody was inside the cars, ready to get out of there even before the explosion. Daryl pushed shoved me in before him into the truck through the driver’s door and just as he closed it we saw Andrea and Dale leaving the building, climbing out and running away, though not fast enough.
“Dale!!” I all but climbed over Daryl to be able to scream through the window. “Andrea! Get cover! It’ll blow – get cover!!”
There was still a moment to see them run and dive behind the sandbags before I was shoved down to the floor of the truck, Daryl over me and the deafening explosion, the heat on our skins threatening to burn everything around, an earthquake destroying anything that was still standing. For minutes we stayed like that, shaking, fearing the cars would not be enough to protect us, until it all started to fade, sound slowly lowering, heat cooling down degree by degree, faint cries coming from the other cars slowly reaching my ears.
“It’s over,” Daryl whispered from somewhere above me. “You okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, you?”
He sat up on the driver’s seat, still bent down to look at me on the floor, curved into a ball. “Fine! Come on, get up,” he reached for my hand and pulled me up. “You fine. It’s okay.”
“Good, good, we’re fine… They’re all fine?”
“All cars whole, Dale and Andrea just entered the RV. Everybody’s fine.”
Being pulled up by Daryl, I didn’t stop moving until I was all but over him, clutching to his shirt and sobbing into his shoulder. I didn’t plan to do it, my body acting on its own volition. I didn’t pay attention to him starting the truck and it moving away from the burning building, my emotions completely out of my control. Daryl didn’t say a word; he held me against him with one arm as he awkwardly drove away following the other cars, only Shane’s jeep behind us.
#twd#twd fic#twd fanfiction#twd fanfic#twdfanfic#twdfanfiction#The Walking Dead#the walking dead fanfic#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfiction#thewalkingdead#the#daryl#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl oc#daryl x oc#original female character#Daryl Dixon x Original Female Character#daryl original female character#daryl dixon original female character#sam danes#daryl sam#daryl dixon sam danes#daryl x sam
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Growing Pains: Facets of Film
When a production team makes a movie, there are things that they have to assemble in order to get it up to film standards. Costumes, sets, props and special effects all come with the territory of making a motion picture, and they aren’t done cheaply or quickly. As a natural result, movies tend to be bigger and more creative looking than their counterparts productions: television on much smaller screens.
While there are exceptions to the smaller budget equalling a much worse production design (typically in shows like Star Trek: The Next Generation or Babylon 5), for the most part, there simply isn’t the ability or freedom for the shows to look as good. Therefore, television shows are forced to rely on the old standbys: writing and performances.
That means that for today’s ‘Facets of Film’, we’re going to be doing things a little differently. Rather than focusing on the blockbuster trimmings, we’re going to be taking a look at a smaller scale. Join us for an examination of the ‘Facets of Film’ at use on Growing Pains.
Let’s take a look.
Growing Pains is a family sitcom, made and set in the 1980s. It’s a traditional series, with no costumes besides normal clothing, no chase or fight scenes, not much in props, no special effects, and only a handful of sets necessary. The actors and guest stars are good, but nothing huge, and there’s some decent camerawork, but again, nothing all that great. It’s a very standard show. To be honest, there’s not much to talk about in the vein of the typical ‘facets of film’, or storytelling shorthand, that we usually look at here.
In that case, what do we look at?
Thankfully, there are a few options left.
Facets of film are tricks used by the filmmakers to explain to the audience in shorthand what would be difficult to explain using dialogue. Whether a show is elaborately done or not, a production team still has to use their materials to tell the story as efficiently as possible. We’re going to be checking out the results of their efforts, starting with the opening theme.
A television show’s opening theme is extremely important for a number of reasons, as we’ve discussed earlier. The theme is the preview, introducing and summing up what a show is about, and demonstrating the tone. This is done in an audible and visual way.
The theme for Murder, She Wrote is small, homey, and charming, demonstrating the personality of the main character, Jessica Fletcher, as well as the mysteries she solves. The theme for The Twilight Zone is eerie, accompanied by outlandish visuals to introduce to the audience the weirdness they are about to witness. Both of these shows utilize their openings very well by immediately communicating to the audience everything you need to know about the individual show.
So, what’s the theme for Growing Pains?
The opening to each Growing Pains episode is the song: “As Long as We’ve Got Each Other”, played over pictures of the main characters throughout their lives. Every episode, you watch them grow up, right before the final shot: one of the entire family at that current stage in the show. While it may seem generic, this actually does its job very well.
The opening credits succeeds in telling the audience what they are about to see: a family. There is an immediate sense of the warm, homey stories they are about to see, and a basic setup of the characters. Looking at the clips, the viewers can tell that Mike is a bit of a goofball, Carol’s smart, and Ben’s energetic. They can also tell that, despite the usual family disagreements, this is a family that does love each other. Immediately, there’s a sense of comfort and fun, and the viewer gets a good idea of what they are getting themselves into.
There are other elements utilized on the show that demonstrate some of the personality traits of the characters, such as costuming (Carol’s sweaters, anyone?) or what is depicted in their rooms, etc. But that can be a little difficult. The Seavers didn’t really have a specific ‘look’ that set them apart, even as individual family members. They dressed as reasonably stylish, upper middle-class people from the 1980s. Not much else to say on that front.
It’d really seem like we’d be at a loss for discussion were it not for the most important element in bringing any characters to life: The performances.
Every actor brought wit, humor, and warmth to each character, ensuring that each person felt life-like to the audience. Not only that, there’s real chemistry between characters, making them feel gelled together as a family. The vivacity that Tracey Gold injected into Carol, or the intelligence that Joanna Kerns brought to Maggie, even Alan Thicke’s understanding portrayal of Jason is very real, giving these characters different enough personalities to be memorable.
As you may have noticed, a lot of the storytelling devices when it comes to television do tend to revolve around the characters, rather than the stories itself. As I’ve said before, characters are the draw, the reason we come back to television, and in Growing Pains, the characters are essential. Luckily, each one works very well due to the writing and acting necessary for each one. The ‘facets of film’ necessary to each show are extremely effective in introducing new viewers to the cast, and using every opportunity to keep it consistent.
When you get right down to it, despite the lack of special effects or large budget that we typically talk about here, the production team did know what they were doing, and used what elements they did have in order to portray what matters the most in any show: the main cast.
And it worked.
While perhaps not as iconic or memorable as some of their contemporaries, the Seavers are unique. Every one of them is relatable, normal, and yet special enough that the audience sees themselves in parts of each character. As such, they worked very well as a family that viewers wanted to see every week.
With that perspective, perhaps it’s easy to see why Growing Pains was so beloved during its runtime. With a charming premise, enjoyable characters, and consistently fun writing to go back to every week, it’s little wonder it was one of the most popular shows of its kind. In hindsight, it’s not a surprise that it’s remembered with as much fondness as it is.
Join us next time where we’re going to talk about the behind-the-scenes for Growing Pains and talk about it’s production! Thank you so much for reading. If you had a thought, question, suggestion or recommendation, or just want to say hi, don’t forget to leave an ask in the ask box! I hope to see you in the next article.
#Growing Pains#TV#Television#TV-G#80s#Comedy#Family#Alan Thicke#Joanna Kerns#Kirk Cameron#Tracey Gold#Jeremy Miller
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Is it true that Mary Jane drove Harry to drug addiction?
Not it is absolutely not.
That is a common misconception that is often used to unfairly belittle or criticise Mary Jane.
It’s rooted in ASM #97. In the prior issue MJ was openly flirting with Peter in front of both Harry and his father. She continued to do this (sans Norman) in ASM #97, and Harry consequently went to a drug dealer and got high. He got clingy with MJ leading her to not at all gently make it clear to him that they were absolutely not exclusive. You could even interpret this as her dumping him, though I don’t and given how they were dating again later on, I think she was just setting him straight.
After arguing with Peter and coming down Harry takes an overdose of the drugs (we don’t know what ones they were exactly).
The simplest way to debunk the idea that MJ was the cause of Harry’s drug problems if to simply check out earlier pages in the very same issue.
Here between how Harry acts, Peter’s dialogue and the artwork depicting the very same bottle of pills Harry uses later in the issue, the message is very clear.
Harry was ALREADY a drug addict before MJ ‘gave him the gate’.
Furthermore, it’s possible (and in my view highly likely, especially after the retcons to MJ’s character) that MJ was both aware of Harry’s drug problem and might even have subtly referenced it in this issue.
Turn your attention back to the scene where MJ lays into Harry. Notice her dialogue when Harry first approached her.
How chipper we suddenly sound.
That emphasis wasn’t added by me, that was all Stan Lee.
I don’t think that was accidental, I think it’s intended to clue us into the fact that MJ at least suspects why his mood has so suddenly changed. The comic, in it’s foreshadowing of Harry’s pill bottle is already demonstrating a certain subtly in parts of itself so this isn’t exactly a stretch to make.
But we can dig deeper.
Stan didn’t exactly depict young people as they really existed in the 1960s (he was middle aged and the comics code wouldn’t have allowed him anyway), but he wasn’t blind.
EVERYONE knew drugs were being passed around in the 1960s and that college kids in particular were using them. Stan himself had been to a fair few college campuses for lectures by this point in time so he may well have clued into this himself.
I’m not trying to throw shade at MJ by saying this, but given how she was kinda sorta a hippie, a girl who was ‘with it’ and who liked to party, it made it unbelievable for her to have not clued in on what might’ve been going on with Harry and Stan through her dialogue may well have been trying to reflect that.
We might also speculate her casualness about it could imply this isn’t the first time she’s seen Harry high, which (if you accept that) further proves that she didn’t drive him to drugs in this issue, it’d been happening for a long time. In fact the canonically debatable Death and Destiny mini-series (set several issues earlier than this) heavily implies Harry to already be using drugs, specifically cocaine.
Furthermore to blame MJ for this is really, really unfair.
When it comes to drug addiction she’s not Harry’s keeper. She’s not responsible for what he does to his own body.
And if we really are going to attribute blame to her, then we should also attribute some blame to Peter for not noticing the obvious. We should also attribute blame to both of them plus Gwen and Flash for not being there enough for Harry to help him deal with whatever issues drove him to drugs.
And boy of boy should we blame Norman. He’s Harry’s father, shouldn’t he be held accountable on some level?
Now if you want to look at it from a position of hindsight when retcons have revealed more about everyone, the truth is MJ REALLY wasn’t to blame for Harry’s drug problem.
We could argue in pushing him away when she knew he had a problem she was being a bad friend but like...there is only so much any of us can do. Personal story: one of my friends in high school went off the rails a bit when he was 16-17. Not due to drugs but other stuff and my grandma insisted I be responsible for setting him right. But my parents, quite correctly, set me and her straight that that wasn’t my responsibility and my abilities to help him were limited anyway.
MJ is in an even worse boat than I was.
She had less financial security, she was dealing with a legal adult with access to a lot of cash and much more cash than her, her mother had died maybe a year-18 months earlier than this, she was dealing with leaving her sister and getting into the swing of city/college life, and that’s not even touching upon her knowledge of Peter’s identity and her deep rooted commitment issues.
Of all people MJ was not in a position to help Harry at this time and giving him the gate was the emotionally healthiest thing for her to do for herself in that situation, even if it arguably came from a place of her own insecurities regarding commitment.*
On Harry’s end, MJ could never have been the sole factor that drove him to drugs. At worst she might’ve been one of many contributing factors or even the straw that broke the camel’s back. But Harry was VERY LIKELY to have fallen into drugs or some other destructive habit with or without her.
Harry’s grandfather was an alcoholic, meaning there was a genetic predisposition towards substance abuse in his family. I know Norman isn’t a drug addict or an alcoholic, but he is a power addict. He’s so much of a power addict he literally became a super villain when he already had wealth and social power.
Speaking of Harry’s Dad....hoooooooo boooooooooooy....Norman screwed his son up bad.
He alternated between neglecting him, verbally abusing and belittling him and just straight up hitting Harry when he was a child, with arguably a certain underlying resentment towards Harry over the death of Lydia, Harry’s mother/Norman’s wife; she possibly died due to complications in giving birth.
Norman put pressures on Harry to ‘be a man’ and to also live up to his own massive shadow, and combined with the fact that Harry was desperate for Norman’s love and approval, yeah Harry was a very messed up little boy.
And he grew into a very messed up vulnerable young man. He was so messed up he’d repressed his memories of his awful childhood and rewritten them in his head to be much happier than they really were.**
So MJ or no MJ, Harry was always going to be susceptible to something like drugs. For all we know he might’ve been experimenting as far back as high school or as a result of Gwen dumping him for Peter.
Bottom line: No, MJ did not drive Harry to drugs.
*I know some people might bring up how she helped Peter deal with Gwen’s death, but that’s very different.
For starters, grieving someone, hard and painful as it is, is in truth a lot easier than helping someone overcome addiction. 90% of the time, eventually the mourning passes. With an addict, they often have to struggle every day to not fall off the wagon.
In essence MJ, a woman in fear of commitment, was looking at a longer term commitment were she to have helped Harry.
More than this, Harry was already clingy and a rather needy person. In a lot of ways he was looking for someone to mother him (hence why he married someone with nursing experience) which was a turn off for MJ in general. Add in the very real possibility that he’d come to depend upon MJ to keep him clean and it would’ve been MJ’s version of Hell.
Peter in contrast was someone she didn’t need to mother, but was someone who did in that moment need his help and she was at a place in her life where she was more able and willing to give it. It helped that, unlike with Harry, she was you know in love with Peter too.
**Incidentally, Norman basically rewrote his own memories too, believing himself to be a great Dad when he really wasn’t.
Harry’s delusions occurred BEFORE he touched the Goblin formula by the way, speaking to hereditary mental illness in his family.
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Mirabile Visue
Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.
Characters: Dracula/Sister Agatha Van Helsing
Chapters: 3/6
Read on FFN and AO3
A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback! I can't express enough how much it means to me to know how you guys thought of each chapter! With that in mind, I wanted to briefly mention that for those who want to physically visualize what Sorina looks like now, my personal view is Violet McGraw when she played in "The Haunting of Hill House" or "Doctor Sleep" but a bit younger than that since she is only three at this point in the story. I just feel like the actress could pull off looking like the child of Agatha and Dracula. Okay, enough explaining, onward to the chapter! -Jen
Transylvania, 1900
Dracula's Castle
It was an exciting time by all accounts, particularly being the beginning of a new century as well as the final hundredth year of the 20th. But mostly, it marked the momentous occasion of Sorina's birth. For three years now, the child had thrived and flourished under the diligent care of her parents. A bright, outspoken little thing that had taken the castle by storm. A queen of her own crowning. She was her father's beating heart and her mother's only worldly possession.
But such love came with a cost. Fear. And Sorina, though free to roam the halls of her domain, was never allowed outside of the manor walls. Agatha had even gone so far as insisting on having every window sealed and the entrance ways only accessible by lock and key. Only Dracula ventured from their home to do his "business" and feeding, the mother too turning away from the sun. Even the moon felt at times like a memory. Still, none of that seemed to matter to the former nun. As long as her daughter was safe, she was at peace.
"Papa!"
The vampire hadn't taken but two steps into the main study when something small collided into him. He looked down and smiled as a set of arms wrapped around his leg, the little girl they belonged to burying her face into the fabric of his pants. As he knelt down to give her a proper hug, his gaze met hers and it was as if Agatha was looking back at him. Sure she had his dark hair that fell in wavy locks, but those stormy blue eyes clearly rivaled those of her mother.
"Ah micul mea liliac," he spoke, pulling her close. "What are you doing out of bed? You'll worry your mother if she wakes up and finds you missing."
"Not sleepy," she explained in as great detail as a small child her age could. "Papa, you left."
"So observant for someone so young," he smiled. "As if you don't keep me and your mother on our toes as it is." Dracula chuckled as Sorina looked at him expectantly, much like his wife did when awaiting an explanation for something he may have done wrong. "Well, I suppose you could say I was feeling rather hungry and decided to go farther than usual to…" He had to think of a good word, something easy enough to comprehend. Agatha insisted upon holding back on telling their child his true feeding habits until she was better capable at understanding. "...to find something really tasty." Or someone.
"Why?" Sorina asked innocently, cocking her head.
The vampire blinked, momentarily forgetting that recently Sorina had become quite the interrogator. Everything needed an answer, she was worse than Agatha. Clearly the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
"Well," he thought. "Because I wanted something different."
"Why?" The little girl inquired, as if needing more proof of his whereabouts.
Dracula exhaled, keeping his composure. "You could say your Papa likes to try new things."
Before Sorina could utter another word, a voice echoed down the hallway. Both had barely a moment to react when a nearly out of breath Agatha came into view. The anxiety etched on her face was quickly swept away by a look of relief when her gaze landed on her daughter. She hurried over almost seeming as if she didn't even realize Dracula was there.
"Sorina," she exhaled. "There you are. You simply cannot disappear like that in the middle of the night."
"Sorry, Mama," the young girl apologized, looking down at the ground. "But Papa's home!"
Agatha finally looked at her husband, who in turn gazed back at her with raised eyebrows. "So I see," she commented. "I suppose I can forgive your excitement, but next time do wake me up before you go running about. It's important that I'm awake when you play. I need to have at least some idea where you are."
"You should give her more credit than that, darling," Dracula smiled, lifting his daughter up. "Sorina may be young, but she's wise beyond her years."
The former nun folded her arms and frowned. "Need I remind you of…" she paused, realizing the girl's eyes were on her. She sighed. "I don't wish to discuss this matter in front of her. All things considered, she is just a child."
"I'm a big girl," Sorina cut in proudly. "I'm three!"
The count smiled, taking a moment to push a lock of hair behind his daughter's ear. Agatha's over-protectiveness had a way of showing itself and most certainly he would be reprimanded the minute they were in privacy, but he understood Sorina's desire to explore. It was a characteristic they both shared. Yet he also knew, as a parent, that his wife did pose some good points. Especially when it came to the uncertainty of what vampire traits she had inherited from him. She could sustain on both animal blood and human food as well as sleep outside of a coffin and its soil, but sunlight? Neither parent dared risk if such was deadly to her or not.
"Your mother is right, little one," the count responded. "You must be careful." He looked to Agatha who nodded in approval. "As goes for your mother and me too. Do you promise?"
"Okay," the girl yawned. "I promise."
"That's my girl," he smiled, placing a kiss on her temple. "Let's get you to bed now. I think we could all do with some rest. I don't have to go out for a while so perhaps later we can play? Does that sound good?"
Sorina nodded, not fighting the exhaustion that had finally found her. Adjusting her in his arms, Dracula ascended the staircase, Agatha in tow. His eyes were adjusted well enough to the darkness, but the torches still lit up the long hallway for both Agatha's and Sorina's sake. The door to the young girl's room was already open after her mother's panic of noticing her child was missing. Approaching her bed, the vampire gingerly placed Sorina down before covering her with a blanket.
"Are you going to berate me now?" Dracula asked coolly the second both adults stepped out of the room. "She didn't mean anything by it."
"Of course she didn't," Agatha hissed quietly. "But that doesn't mean you don't under-react when she wanders off like this without either of us knowing. She's a little girl, Dracula."
"Who should be allowed to explore! The manor is safe," he chuckled humorlessly. "I've made sure of it. Not even a fly has managed to sneak in, not to mention you got rid of all of the bodies I had in boxes-"
"Because the last thing we need is for our daughter to be traumatized by some undead creature popping out like a jack-in-a-box toy!" She countered, folding her arms so tightly over her chest that Dracula was surprised they didn't break. "You should be taking this more seriously!"
"I am," he insisted. "Everything you've asked, I've done without question. Everything. At this point, you might as well lock her away in a tower. You aren't the only one whose given up things, Agatha!"
Dracula realized his mistake the moment those words escaped from his lips. The former nun swallowed thickly and, without another word, turned on her heels and stormed off into her room.
"Agatha, wait!" He called after her, reaching her door just as it closed. "Look, I didn't mean-"
"You're right," Agatha's voice sounded muffled from behind the thick wood. "I have asked a lot of you. I'm feeling rather tired, so if you don't mind."
The vampire pinched the brim of his nose and closed his eyes tightly. Debating with his wife was one thing, but actually fighting with her took the fun out of it. Falling in love with Agatha had led him to experiencing new emotions and regretfully one of those had been guilt. It used to be so easy not to feel and yet, though it felt weird to admit it, he wouldn't change a thing.
"I'm sorry," he replied. "The sacrifices you've made will always trump mine. I know you only want what's best for her, and I swear upon everything I do too. You know," he exhaled. "When I came home tonight, she was bombarding me with questions. Reminds me of someone else I know."
He heard a quiet chuckle from the other side of the door. "Funny," she mused. "I could say the same about you when it comes to how hard-headed she is."
The bedroom door opened and for the first time that night, Dracula saw a genuine smile etched on the former nun's face. The vampire pulled her into his arms and held her close, Agatha allowing her eyes to close.
"Dracula?" She asked softly, still in his embrace.
"What business have you been doing exactly? Besides feeding?"
He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "I cannot go into detail now, but when the time comes, I will tell you everything. I must ask only for your trust. I promise everything will make sense in time."
Agatha was silent for a moment. "I trust you," she finally breathed. "Unconditionally."
"Where is Agatha and what have you done with her?" Dracula smirked, kissing the top of her head. He held her close, inhaling her scent. "This will be good for the three of us. Just you wait and see."
XXX
"No, Papa, like this!"
Agatha looked over her book only to see Dracula sitting on the floor, doll in hand, as Sorina demonstrated how to properly make the doll "walk". She smiled, never in a million lifetimes would she have ever pictured the infamous Count Dracula playing dolls with a daughter she shared with him no less. And yet, there he sat, looking as content as one could be.
"Ohh," he said, feigning surprise. "Terribly sorry. Like this?" He made the doll move as his daughter instructed, causing her to giggle. "And how are you today, Ms. Balaur? Going to the market, are we?"
"Oh yes," Sorina stated, bouncing the other doll. "Time for tea!"
"Balaur?" Agatha commented, a confused smile crossing her features. "That's quite a name to come up with, Sorina."
"Papa picked it," her daughter replied.
"Must've heard it somewhere," Dracula shrugged. "Was on my mind at the time."
"Papa, play," Sorina insisted. "Tea time!"
Agatha continued to eye her husband intently before returning to her book. It was on Atlantis, some lost city theorized to have existed that now lay in the depths of the Atlantic Ocean. Dracula had purchased it for her knowing her love for anything remotely supernatural or myth based. That's how she became intent on tracking him down. The reality of that had turned out much different than she planned.
Suddenly, there came a knock at the front entrance. Before Agatha even had a moment to set her book down, Dracula already had Sorina in his arms. He stood there, glowering at the direction of the sound when the banging came again. Only this time, it was much louder.
"Dracula, take Sorina upstairs." Agatha said calmly.
"Agatha," Dracula said, clearly displeased with her idea. "Ignore it."
"It's daytime," the former nun stated. "Go upstairs."
"Papa," Sorina asked, looking at her father. "What's wrong?"
"Go now," Agatha urged. "I'll be fine."
The vampire continued to eye the door before letting out a heavy sigh of defeat. He knew he couldn't win against Agatha. Holding his daughter closer, he met his wife's unblinking gaze.
"Go," she repeated. "I'll call out if something's wrong."
She waited until both were up the stairs and out of her sight before venturing towards the doors. As she passed by the fireplace, she carefully grabbed the iron rod that was the poker. At least she could have some form of a weapon. Locating the key, her hands slightly trembled as she began to undo the locks. However, it wasn't out of fear. No, it was excitement. Rarely, had Agatha seen the outside, much less the sun. Caring for Sorina had seen to that. So when she had finally unlocked the door, pushing it just open enough to see who was knocking, Agatha couldn't help the sharp inhale of delight when the warm rays hit her face.
"Miss?"
A gruff voice tugged the former nun back to reality. Agatha nearly jumped in surprise at the man who stood before her. An older fellow who, when noticing he'd caught her gaze, removed his cap from his balding head.
"My apologies, Miss," he cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Gellert. Gellert Bartok? You must be Count Dracula's wife."
"I am," Agatha said hesitantly. "Is there a matter I can assist you with? My husband isn't feeling well at the moment. I can handle any business matters of his."
"Right. Of course," Gellert said with a half smile. "Sorry for coming over so unexpectedly. Usually I come at night, as he requested? A few times a month, I'm sure he's told you."
"I'm aware," she nodded.
"We had an incident with some hogs. Something got 'em during the night? I wanted to talk to your husband about getting more. I brought what I could with me." He motioned to a rather small barrel by his feet. "I can carry it in for you."
"That's quite alright," Agatha said briskly. "I can handle-"
"I must insist," the farmer smiled, nudging the door to open wider with his foot. "I'm not going to make a lady like yourself carry something so heavy."
Agatha had never felt as tense as she did the moment the entrance way closed behind her. The stranger, to her at least, completely unaware of his surroundings strode over to the table and placed the barrel down. He looked around the room and whistled.
"I've never stepped foot in this place," he commented. "Always just dropped everything off or met your husband outside. This is quite the establishment. Never seen anything like it."
"I'm quite particular when it comes to decor."
Much to Agatha's horror, she recognized that voice all too well. She turned and with wide eyes stared at Dracula, who had now decided to join them.
"Count Dracula," the farmer smiled nervously. "Your wife told me you were ill."
"I'm feeling better," Dracula replied simply. "Might I inquire why you are standing in my dining room?"
"Oh," Gellert said, scratching the back of his neck. "I was just informing your wife that we had issues on the farm with the hogs. Something killed off a good many of them. I wanted to ask if you would be so generous as to perhaps provide-"
"Yes, yes, of course," Dracula waved dismissively. "Let us discuss the matter in a different room. Voices echo and my daughter is trying to sleep." He looked to Agatha. "Darling, would you mind retrieving some wine for our guest? Surely this won't take long, but I want to be a good host," he smiled at the farmer. "If you'd follow me."
Unbeknownst to either parent, Sorina watched from the shadows as her mother and father followed the strange man down one of the corridors. She'd never seen another person before, only heard about them in her story books. The young girl looked back over her shoulder at her bedroom. Surely her parents wouldn't be too cross. Besides, she'd recognize that scent anywhere. The one that wafted from the barrel on the table.
Quietly, she made her way down the steps and into the dining room. With ease, she climbed up a chair before kneeling in front of her prize. It was a little difficult, but with surprising strength considering her age, Sorina managed to get the top off. Her eyes sparked as the aroma of the crimson liquid filled her nose. With no means of properly drinking it, Sorina, much like a kid and a cookie jar, scooped out a palm full and began to slurp.
"What in God's name-"
Gellert looked on in horror as the young girl turned to face them, her tiny fangs and blood smeared mouth giving away that she was far from a normal child. But before he could react, Dracula shoved him hard against the wall, a yelp of pain escaping the man. Sorina began to cry, snapping Agatha out of her stunned state brought on by the situation.
"Take her upstairs," Dracula growled, his own features beginning to morph, his words mirroring Agatha's from before. "You don't want her to see this."
The woman didn't need to be told twice as she scooped her distressed child up and quickly ascended the steps. She could hear the man pleading with the vampire as she ran into Sorina's room and knocked the door closed with her hip.
"Sorry, Mama," the girl cried. "Sorry!"
"It's okay," Agatha soothed, her own voice shaking. She held Sorina close, pressing her face into her daughter's hair. "It's okay."
Time seemed to move slowly as Agatha sat in the dark room hugging Sorina tightly to her. It was only when the sound of familiar footsteps grew closer and the door open, did she see Dracula standing before her.
"Papa!" Sorina cried out, running into the arms of her father.
He picked her up and held her close before his eyes met those of his wife.
"Agatha," he said quietly. "I think it's time for me to tell you about England."
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[[ This post contains Part 1 of my review/analysis of the Forgotten Realms/Drizzt novel, Boundless, by R. A. Salvatore. As such, the entirety of this post’s content is OOC. ]]
Genre: Fantasy
Series: Generations: Book 2 | Legend of Drizzt #35 (#32 if not counting The Sellswords)
Publisher: Harper Collins (September 10, 2019)
My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
Additional Information: Artwork for the cover of Boundless and used above is originally done by Aleks Melnik. This post CONTAINS SPOILERS. Furthermore, this discussion concerns topics that I am very passionate about, and as such, at times I do use strong language. Read and expand the cut at your own discretion.
Contents:
Introduction
I. Positives (you are here) I.1 Pure Positives I.2 Muddled Positives
II. Mediocre Writing Style II.1 Bad Descriptions II.2 Salvatorisms II.3 Laborious "Action"
III. Poor Characterization III.1 "Maestro" III.2 Lieutenant III.3 Barbarian III.4 "Hero" III.5 Mother
IV. World Breaks IV.1 Blinders Against the Greater World IV.2 Befuddlement of Earth and Toril IV.3 Self-Inconsistency IV.4 Dungeon Amateur IV.5 Utter Nonsense
V. Ego Stroking V.1 The Ineffable Companions of the Hall V.2 Me, Myself, and I
VI. Problematic Themes VI.1 No Homo VI.2 Disrespect of Women VI.3 Social-normalization VI.4 Eugenics
VII. What's Next VII.1 Drizzt Ascends to Godhood VII.2 Profane Redemption VII.3 Passing the Torch VII.4 Don't Notice Me Senpai
Positives
I've found that the untrammeled positive elements of Boundless exclusively have to do with solid turns of phrase peppered throughout the book. There are also semi-positives in terms of characterizations and literary devices that Salvatore uses, but these are at best mixed.
Pure Positives
Salvatore pulls off some surprisingly good descriptions in Boundless through the usage of a more varied vocabulary than his standard repertoire, evocative imagery, compelling metaphors, and other effective strategies. An example of a good passage is, "The demon responded with a word of its own, a croaking, grating combination of hard syllables that sounded to Regis like a porcupine being rubbed across the flesh of a giant frog." in normal Salvatore tradition, the description would've been left without the metaphor. Heck, I'm not even sure that "croaking" and "grating" would've been employed in regular Salvatore fashion. In addition to speaking to the imagination, the metaphor evokes the fantastical nature of the world, a world where giant frogs exist, ones that wouldn't simply rupture when a porcupine is rubbed against them. Furthermore, the metaphor harmonizes with the adjective earlier in the sentence, for even though the frog is not the thing doing the croaking, "croaking" matches frog, just as grating matches porcupine quills.
Another example of solid writing in Boundless can be found here, "Every syllable hit Rethnorel the way the flowing breath of a speaker might make the flame of a candle blow back." Like the previous example, this one combines the usage of a noun associated with an uncommon adjective and demonstrative imagery to good effect. The metaphor shows us that the character is buffeted in an almost soft manner, for such is the flicker of a candle, but it is a continuous assault. A line that is almost too good to imagine coming from Salvatore is, "...scurrying along like a pair of giant rats fleeing the purring pursuit of a hungry displacer beast." This description is short, concise, and yet contains so many effective elements: "scurrying" instead of "running", the alliteration in "purring pursuit", and of course, alluding to a unique creature specific to the world. Putting all of these elements together paints an expressive image of an earnest and high-speed chase, the predator full of pleased anticipation but the necessity of its hunt not allowing its contentment to tamper its progress.
A passage that I wish every Salvatore paragraph could emulate is this one, "Even the way she talked grated on him, every bitten-off word making him feel like someone was running the bark of an old and gnarly oak tree down the back of his neck. It seemed like this drow woman could barely get the words out of her mouth, so tight was her jaw, and when they did come out, they carried the hissing timbre of an open fire in a downpour." The standard Salvatore version of this would be something along the lines of, "Even the way she talked grated on him. Every word was bitten off tightly", which, granted is more concise than what was published, but falls far from embodying the soul of wit in its brevity. The imagery in the published metaphor more than lets us hear the way the female character talks, it lets us feel it. So, too, can we feel what it'd be like to try to talk while our jaws are locked. "Hissing timbre" is a beautiful description on its own, but combined with inciting a sound that everyone can at least imagine, even if they may not have heard firsthand, results in a punchy and effective description. An example of another effective description, and one that doesn't make use of a metaphor is, "Some time later, they lay beside each other, the soft glow of candlelight catching pinpricks of sparkle in the beads of sweat they both wore." Sweat is not normally an attractive feature, even when it's associated with a sexy scene. The way that this imagery is presented however invokes a sense of soft decadence, as though the characters were covered with a delicate and exotic garment strewn with countless pearls. The many sparkles from this "garment" help to further set the romantic mood far more than the soft candlelight would have done by itself. Although the description, "bag of demonic despair", doesn't look like much when presented by itself, and isn't as strong as the preceding examples, it's worth a mention because of how it adequately serves as a concise summary. The object that it refers to is Entreri enveloped in an unbreakable cocoon that an unknown demon trapped him in. The word "cocoon" shows up many times in relation to this object, and admittedly, is an concise, if a bit bland, way to describe the object from both within and without. Inside the encasement, Entreri is held in a state of perpetual torment, whilst outside Dahlia, and to a much lesser extent, Regis, are worrying about his condition. Perhaps "demonic" could be replaced with another adjective but overall I'm fine with the way it is, for anything referring more to Entreri's suffering might run the risk of sounding melodramatic.
"Running stride" is also worth noting because in a world that doesn't use the same units of measurements that we do, it's always jarring when inches, feet, and miles are cited, especially when readers of the text hail from countries that aren’t the US. Without the known common terms, it is understandably difficult to effectively convey distances in a concise and comprehensible way, so units of measurements like this example are wonderful because they use something that we all understand, and do so without breaking immersion.
Tasteful omission is as important as smart inclusion. I'd criticized Salvatore for trying too hard in Timeless by using "fashioned" in in awkward way, and he's dropped this altogether in Boundless. By the same token, "six hundred pounds of panther" doesn't appear at all. Salvatore's favorite adjectives, "magnificent" and "fine", are both used better in Boundless. The former appears thirteen times in Boundless but unlike in Timeless, the usage of most of them aren't vague and lazy ways of characterizing splendid objects, characters, or actions. Six of those thirteen usages can maybe be improved still, but that is already a huge positive change from the fourteen out of seventeen occurrences in Timeless. Meanwhile, "fine" appears fifty times, but many of that is part of modifiers like finer, finest, etc, and through a cursory scan, by itself, relatively few are used in inane ways.
Muddled Positives
Aside from the examples in diction above, Boundless does contain praiseable elements, specifically even in areas where I usually criticize Salvatore. There are moments of decent, even good, characterization, and some of the negative potential I'd feared Timeless was leading towards are not realized in Boundless. Furthermore, there are improvements to be found in the themes that Salvatore employs, and some descriptors stand up to fact-checking.
One of my biggest criticisms of Salvatore is that he routinely disrespects what I describe as the beautiful tapestry of the Realms, which was woven together by the hands of many creatives who worked in harmony. In Boundless, the amount that Salvatore insensitively scribbles his name in Sharpie over the tapestry is reduced. Ironically, sometimes Salvatore scribbles over the portions of the tapestry that he'd worked with others to create, but in Boundless, he doesn't perpetuate this disservice to both himself and others as much as he has in the past. For better or worse, Salvatore did create a lot of information about drow, though his work is mostly limited to the city of Menzoberranzan. While the Drizzt books contain the most drow content than any other FR novel series, they've done so through their sheer volume, and they mainly portrayed the drow in a one-dimensional fashion. Just as there are many more drow settlements than the fanatic Menzoberranzan, so too, are even Menzoberranzanyr drow capable of qualities other than scheming self-service in the name of dedication to Lolth. In Boundless, we see more dimensions to the drow characters presented. Zaknafein is not the only drow in Menzoberranzan who possesses a moral compass. Loyalties born of motivations other than pride exist beyond the Do'Urden bloodline, with familial concern and the kind of love that'd been described as being unknown to drow inspiring or dissuading murderous deeds. In previous books, the closest that we got to "non-evil" drow were drow who had the potential to be good, perhaps even living for awhile in a goodly way, but eventually and inevitably squandering that potential. For example, Drizzt's sister Vierna was not as cruel as the other Do'Urden females, but ultimately, through trying to seduce her own brother and then turning a different brother into a drider, turned out to be just as bad as the rest of the Lolthites. Another similar example could be found with Tos'un Armgo, whom although having created a family with a surface elf, ultimately participated in the murder of his own family and returning himself and his daughter to the depraved society of Menzoberranzan.
In Boundless, although the priestess Dab'nay Tr'arach follows a course similar to Tos'un, her path is much more nuanced, and although she squanders her morality for station, she does so with great ambivalence and regret. Dab'nay's house is long destroyed, with she and her siblings' surnames changed to reflect this. She stands to gain nothing by preserving members of her bloodline, but nonetheless, she endangers her own life to see that her brother isn't killed, a selfish thought of rebuilding her long-lost house not at all factoring in to her concern for her kin. It is also clear from actions such as Dab'nay running her finger playfully along the top of Zaknafein's nose while telling him that he, not his services, were worth waiting for, that the feelings that she develops for him are more than those a female in a matriarchal society entertains towards a favored pet or sex object. Dab'nay allows her vulnerability to show in Zaknafein's presence and does not conceal the tears she sheds for the way that they must live their lives. She also fears for Zaknafein's safety even though she'd arguably stand to gain from his demise, and feels guilt for implicating him negatively for the sake of her own survival. Before the Generations trilogy, these qualities were not possible in any genuine or long-lasting way in any priestesses of Lolth, not even a disgraced one. Prior, a disgraced priestess who isn't killed or turned into a drider would become even more dangerous, with having nothing to lose by concentrating the proverbial venom in her veins.
Dab'nay isn't the only Menzoberranzanyr drow who demonstrates the capacity for multiple dimensions in Boundless. So, too, does Harbondair Tr'arch and Arathis Hune. Harbondair possesses the same familial loyalty as Dab'nay, and, like his sister, possesses the ability to genuinely overcome past prejudices. Despite Zaknafein having destroyed his house and despite Zaknafein issuing him a death threat should he attempt to harm him again, Harbondair grows to develop a real friendship with Zaknafein. Arathis, while definitively more "evil" than the Tr'arch siblings, is motivated by more than his rank in Bregan D'aerthe to eventually go to a head against Zaknafein. It's never stated that Arathis' rivalry with Zaknafein isn't based solely in Arathis feeling threatened in his second-in-command position. However, from the way that Arathis is described to behave while Zaknafein is absent, Arathis appears to be motivated by jealousy that he's no longer Jarlaxle's favorite and most trusted follower. Jarlaxle makes it abundantly clear on numerous occasions that he considers Zaknafein and Arathis equally valuable, hence why he prohibited either from trying to kill the other, so were Arathis worried about his position in the mercenary band, he needn't have gone so far because he and Zaknafein were equals in that regard but Zaknafein was definitely his better in combat. However, there can only be one favorite, a fact that Arathis couldn't engineer, but because he could ignore it when Zaknafein was away, his mood was noticeably better when he was the only lieutenant by Jarlaxle's side. It's actually quite pleasant that Salvatore didn't spell out the nature of Arathis' motivations, the way that Arathis is successful in that it is shown and not told to us. Unfortunately, Arathis' fate is soon met, which is probably for the best, as this lets him safely fall into the "gets killed off before too many books ruin him" category that I'd previously (and prematurely) populated with Zaknafein.
Although the Boundless version of Jarlaxle continues to be consistent with the Timeless version of Jarlaxle, ergo de-fanged to his current timeline self rather to the much more morally ambiguous character he was in the earlier Drizzt books, there is a comical and memorable scene in Boundless that is true to Jarlaxle's irrepressible humor even whilst in the middle of delivering a solemn ultimatum. While forbidding Zaknafein from going after Arathis Hune, Jarlaxle manages to bring a smile to the very angry weapons master by assuring him that in any other circumstance, "I promise you, if we two were trapped in a cave alone and starving, I would not kill you. But if you died first, I cannot promise that I wouldn't eat you."
There are improvements in Boundless even when it comes to the less morally gray drow of Menzoberranzan. One such individual that gets a more profound treatment is Mez'Barris Del'Armgo, the future Matron Mother of the second house of Menzoberranzan. During Boundless, her mother holds that title, and House Barrison Del'Armgo is far from its destined ranking. High Priestess Mez'Barris, the most promising member of her house, has her position recognized by being the only one allowed to copulate with the strange and giant Uthegentel, a dubious honor that the other priestesses aren't interested in anyway. Other priestesses tease Mez'Barris' preference of Uthegentel because "it was unusual, almost unheard of, for a drow woman to be attracted to a man so physically superior to her". However, "Mez'Barris couldn't deny the thrill she felt when Uthgentel so easily tossed her up upon his hips, holding her aloft while he took her, never tiring. He threw her about as if she were a child, but he knew how to throw her indeed!" Other than the more than slightly disturbing analogy to a child in the context of a sexual setting, which really could've been better done comparing Mez'Barris to anything else, a rag doll maybe, or heck, even an animal, there are a lot of things going on in the description of Mez'Barris and Uthegentel's relationship dynamic that are pretty outstanding for Salvatore. First, it is made clear in no uncertain terms that Uthegentel's size is unusual, which directly addresses the misconception that elves in the Forgotten Realms are larger than humans. Elves are larger than humans in worlds such as Middle-Earth and Azeroth, but this is not generally the case on Toril. Second, Boundless specifically states with regards to Uthegentel, "He was stronger than the women, too -- another anomaly among the drow -- and was easily the strongest dark elf in the city. Even with magical assistance, other men could not match him, and even with Lolth-blessed spells of physical enhancement, other women couldn't, either." An extremely too-oft practice among the many people who love the very popular drow race is to ascribe Earth human characteristics to them: that the males are usually bigger than the females. Drow of the Forgotten Realms, like many animals of our world, are a species in which the females are larger and stronger than the males. The aspect that stands out the most about Mez'Barris and Uthegentel is a message about reversed gender roles and how, by conforming to the norm, one might miss out on some very exciting experiences. I don't really dare hope that this is a message that Salvatore was consciously conveying, but it would be pretty awesome if it was intentional on his part. Taking that message and reversing the genders for our patriarchal world, if Salvatore could encourage the idea that men do not become any less masculine when they break conventional ideologies of what a man should be, I would be willing to consider putting serious effort into building him a pedestal, and even gazing upon it favorably from time to time.
There's one other thing going on with Mez'Barris with relation to Uthegentel, specifically, "as it pertains to the other priestesses' teasing, "'How can you be with a man who is stronger than you?' most women asked, seeming sincerely aghast at the thought. 'It isn't natural! Are you sure that you don't simply prefer the bed company of women?" Mez'Barris was sure." I'd actually completely overlooked this three times: as I was doing my read-through, as I was organizing my notes, and as I was reviewing my notes. It occurred to me, while I was writing the previous paragraph, that Mez'Barris' certainty about her preference of Uthegentel isn't based in anything sapphic, which, added to the fact that Boundless doesn't contain any gratuitous lesbian sex scenes means that Boundless is the first Drizzt book in quite possibly forever in which Salvatore doesn't fetishize female/female non-heterosexuality. This is, if it is what it is, HUGE. One of the things for which I regularly criticize Salvatore is how frustratingly often he drops in a female/female sex scene or has implied female/female sexytimes going on. Specifically its that this happens in a totally non-representative manner because, of course, the same treatment isn't even considered in terms of male/male representation. I've gone into this enough in the past and I'll go into it again later so there's no need to do that here, but seriously, just the fact that not once do we have anything even close to some random priestess whose name we won't remember banging this other random priestess whose name we similarly won't remember is such a large improvement. And with Mez'Barris conveying the reverse gender role ideology with Uthegentel, if Salvatore intentionally did all of this, I would totally consider, yet again, and pardon my french, building that fucking pedestal and putting him on it.
Dab'nay and Mez'Barris are two very different priestesses, but their respective scenes of intimacy are better done than such scenes in previous Drizzt books. The passion in Dab'nay and Zaknafein scenes are marked by affection, whereas in Mez'Barris and Uthegentel they're solely lustful. There is tenderness, even hints of trust, between Dab'nay and Zaknafein, whereas what's between Mez'Barris and Uthegentel is detached and mercenary. One is a silken handkerchief while the other is a stinging riding crop, and though each priestess doesn't feel jealousy that her lover is ridden by others, one willingly rents him out, while the other has thoroughly accepted that she is not entitled to possessive emotions.
The drow aren't the only characters who enjoy improved literary treatment in Boundless. The dramatis personae of the World Above receive some refreshing new dimensions. Wulfgar specifically, who has been hammered flat even prior to his resurrection, becomes more than a plot device that fights as much as he beds. Since his resurrection, the carefree barbarian has been primarily embodying getting the most out of his second life by sleeping with anyone and everyone willing to do so. In Boundless, we're told that Wulfgar has been with Penelope Harpell exclusively, even though she is a much older woman and, as Penelope herself realizes, Wulfgar can get practically any younger woman that he wants so he chooses. However, Wulfgar chooses Penelope and exclusively Penelope, because he's enamored with her confidence and authenticity. One of the things that I criticize Salvatore for is his poor handling of female characters, especially with regards to how the most redeeming features for his female characters are youth and beauty. For instance, Drizzt and Catti-brie's supposed great love has never been tested "on screen", for Catti died in her forties and was returned to Drizzt's side as a hot young thing. We never got to see how the glorious hero would've behaved as his mortal wife grew old and frail while he remained young and hale. Drizzt might've told himself that he'd never think Catti ugly, but he was never tested. Admittedly, Penelope isn't super old, but having the hunk that is young Wulfgar faithfully and exclusively stay by her side goes some distance in making up for the previous treatment and portrayal of women in the Drizzt books. The only downside to Wulfgar and Penelope is that their scenes of intimacy are awkward to the point of cringe-worthy, which suggests to me that Salvatore is writing outside of his comfort zone. Nonetheless, he's giving it an honest effort, and even though it doesn't work out, it looks to be a genuine attempt, for there aren't any contradictory messages in Wulfgar and Penelope's relationship.
Boundless is the first time that we see Dahlia up and about since Night of the Hunter. I'd feared that Salvatore was going to have Kimmuriel fix more than the damage wrought unto her by Methil El-Viddenvelp. It would've been an easy and lazy plot device, along the same lines of Idalia's Flute and the aboleth's influence in "developing" Entreri. Thankfully, Kimmuriel has not undone Dahlia's past traumas, nor even eliminated the more recent ones and the personality flaws that she has as a result of those traumas. What we see in Boundless is that Dahlia is still who she was during the Neverwinter Saga, modified by the experiences of her relationship with Entreri. As we follow Dahlia through a Waterdhavian nobles' ball, in addition to learning more about her through her thoughts, we're able to glean additional information through her physical appearance. Most of those details that are mentioned in the past, but certainly don't hurt to see repeated. For instance, "She was tall for an elf, nearly six feet, with black hair that she dyed with streaks of cardinal red." Specifics like height tend to be vague in Salvatore's writing, for after so many books it's clear that he can't keep track of his own details, so it's good to see Dahlia's, and even better that, once again, Salvatore reminds the readers that elves in Toril tend to be short. It's good to see that Dahlia still wears the diamonds she'd accrued from her years of being a black widow, for even though she's abandoned those practices, she hasn't abandoned her past and who she was. Furthermore, she now wears her hair in the manner that she'd use for her softer guise when she was with Drizzt, except this is presumably neither an illusion nor as a result of trying to manipulate Entreri as she did with it and Drizzt. It's a subtle reminder of how things have changed for her in a lasting way.
In the previous books, we'd only seen Dahlia be angry, vindictive, selfish and petty. Although I'd always liked her more than any of Salvatore's other female characters, my opinion regarding Dahlia is an unpopular one. Dahlia felt very much like a character that Salvatore wrote for readers to hate. In Boundless, he appears to be trying to make her more than that. During the ball, Dahlia is comical, even silly, both of which can begin to endear a reader to a character. Throughout the rest of the book, Dahlia exhibits courage and loyalty so steadfast that it's easy to forget that she was once a villainous character, but she doesn't do so in such a way as to come across as goody two-shoes either. Dahlia is still very much not a goodly character, nor should she be at this point. Unfortunately, there exists a rather large problem with Dahlia, and that is her relationship with Entreri. In just as artificial as a way that it started, so, too, are we told more than that we're shown, namely, that Entreri had overcome his childhood demons and is now helping her overcome hers. The thing is, that whole plot with how Entreri overcame his demons by doing Drizzt-like good deeds doesn't ring true at all, and we're not shown how Entreri has been helping Dahlia overcome her own demons. I doubt we ever will, but I'll discuss the poor handling of Entreri in this book later. For now, I will add that I thought it was a good touch by Salvatore to have the apartment shared by the couple to be located in the Southern Ward of Waterdeep. The Southern Ward is, as of fifth edition D&D and the current timeline (~1490s DR), is no longer the poor ward that it used to be, which is very fitting for Entreri because he wouldn't want to live in the grimy Dock Ward or the destitute Field Ward any more than he'd want to live in the aristocratic Sea Ward, the Watch-infested Castle Ward, or the noble-infested North Ward. The Southern Ward is inhabited by common folk instead of hoity-toity nobles, with a good portion of its population hailing from southern Faerûn. Although Entreri's Calishite heritage is not given much treatment in the Drizzt novels, it would make sense if, even with his rough and austere childhood, that associations of home would bring some degree of comfort or at least familiarity. Waterdeep's Southern Ward is home to some of the best singers of Calishite music and probably the best examples of Calishite cuisine. The location of homes above stables or around inn yards allows us to accept that Entreri would have been able to ensure a good sightline of the goings-on around his domicile, likely a necessity for one of Entreri's nature. The only downside to all of this is that Salvatore calls the Southern Ward the "South Ward", a nomenclature that only fools would use, according to Volo's Waterdeep Enchiridion.
The best-developed member among the resurrected Companions of the Hall is Regis/Spider Parrafin, and this continues to be the case in Boundless. In the past, I'd criticized Salvatore on numerous occasions about how his heroes perform a lot more questionable actions on screen than do his villains. In the travesty of the series, Hero, I'd specifically noted that Regis and Wulfgar kicking people who were already lying down to be decidedly not heroic, even if the victims of said kicking were highwaymen. In Boundless, Regis doesn't do anything of the sort. No, in fact, he actually performs what would be a humbling or even degrading act himself by normal Salvatore standards, and conveys a surprising and important message thereby. Much like how I'm uncertain that the message conveyed by Mez'Barris and Uthegentel is intentional, I'm not sure if this is the case with Regis, but Regis admits to using his looks to get what he wants, which is unfortunately a strategy traditionally attributed to women alone, both inside and outside of Salvatore's books. When Regis states to Dahlia, "Because I do the same thing, as does my lovely wife, Donnola" as he points out that Dahlia knows how to use her looks to gain an advantage in her negotiations, he, in my mind, is performing a much more admirable feat than slaying a hundred rampaging ogres singlehandedly. Humility is a mark of any true hero, and although Drizzt and his companions are supposed to possess tons of humility along with other virtuous qualities, we see so little of those qualities. Instead, much of their actions are full of sanctimony and self-satisfaction. Another thing that was done well with Regis is his reaction to being in Entreri's presence. Despite the significantly de-fanged current nature of Entreri, and Regis' intellectual knowledge that the assassin wouldn't hurt him, Regis struggles to suppress the fear he feels in Entreri's presence. This is one of the few instances in which Salvatore correctly portrays trauma. Regis has more than enough reason to behave the way that he does, Entreri inflicted significant distress in his previous life, and, as Regis notes, "Was there any amount of time and any number of deeds that could fully erase that?" Regis' musing is at the core of many trauma victims' journey to recovery. Furthermore, there is no contrived PTSD in Regis' experiences like was the case with Drizzt in Hero. Accurate, too, is the way that Regis' struggle is focused on the stub of his pinky, with which he fidgets while fighting to hold his voice steady. This shows us rather than telling us that Artemis Entreri is still very much a trigger for Regis, and speaks more to Regis' courage in facing that trigger than had he been the one facing down Demogorgon in Menzoberranzan.
Those are the major positives in terms of characterization and literary devices employed in Boundless. There are also good points dispersed among the descriptions and interactions with lesser characters and incidental elements. While we're not quite sure what the demon possessing the little girl named Sharon is (or if it's a demon at all), Salvatore did a decent job of making Sharon unsettling and creepy under the creature's influence. It's also refreshing to see intrigue in a Drizzt book that isn't confined to Menzoberranzan. Although Salvatore doesn't do the intrigues of Waterdeep justice, he does make an effort to include them, and even if he doesn't show us a great amount of it, I appreciate the nod that he gives to its complexity through indicating that despite months spent in the City of Splendors, one as acute as Entreri hasn't been able to unravel the mysteries he'd been tasked to solve. Unfortunately, there's a total hiatus from the further development of the Neverember plot. The final thing that I wanted to mention for this section is a detail, that, although minor, stood up to fact-checking, which delighted me. A lot of Salvatore's action scenes and descriptions, despite going into overlong detail, are often impractical or simply incorrect. Towards the end of Boundless, we see Drizzt running with everything he's got, "his arms pumping for maximum momentum in the desired direction". I'm not a runner, so I had to research this, but I was ecstatic to find that pumping one's arms does actually help one run faster! Bravo, Salvatore!
That concludes the positive-oriented analysis of Boundless. From this point onward, I'll be performing my brutally critical and honest breakdown of the novel. Fair warning, it's not going to be pretty, because Boundless isn't. Sit tight though, and I'll tell you all the ways that it was bad in excruciating detail, for better or worse.
#ooc#Boundless#Forgotten Realms#legend of drizzt#book review#Generations Trilogy#Zaknafein Do'Urden#Artemis Entreri#Jarlaxle Baenre#Penelope Harpell#Wulfgar son of Beornegar#Dahlia Sin'felle#Menzoberranzan#Waterdeep#drow#Kimmuriel Oblodra#Drizzt Do'Urden#Regis#Spider Parraffin#Mez'Barris Armgo#Catti-brie#uthegentel del'armgo#Effron
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Brexit: Boris Johnson’s Impossibility Theorem
Digital Elixir Brexit: Boris Johnson’s Impossibility Theorem
Even though the press paid a lot of attention to Boris Johnson’s taking of office theatrics, and in particular his doubling down on his promise of an October 31 exit and stocking his Cabinet with radicals to help assure that, there were a couple of signals from the EU side that are worth noting, which we’ll cover after a short recap.
We said early on that the course of Brexit was showing troubling parallels to the Greece 2015 bailout negotiations. Specifically, from the outset, the UK overestimated its bargaining leverage. Too many well placed pols and pundits convincing themselves that the EU would be more damaged by a crashout than the UK and therefore would be desperate to avoid a no deal. A more reality-based way of coming to a similar conclusion is that EU pols will always favor kick the can down the road over making a difficult decision, particularly one that will result in real damage. Thus push come to shove, given a way to avoid a Brexit, the EU will take advantage of it.
We now appear to have hit the point we anticipated, that of a game of chicken. The pro-Brexit faction, despite having lost support in the UK population, has embraced a more and more hard-line position, and the peculiarities of the UK system has allowed one of their favorites, Boris Johnson, to become Prime Minister. Some hoped that the fabulously unprincipled Johnson might find a way to reverse himself and call for a face-saving extension down the road, but Johnson looks to be doing everything he can to commit himself to an October 31 departure. The press was agog at Johnson’s Cabinet purge, in which he ousted anyone who was soft on Brexit, and populated his team heavily with MPs from the Leave campaign, leading some to speculate that despite Johnson’s protestations otherwise, he was preparing for an early election. Another indicator: the Tories launched a “blitz” of election ads to test messages.
In a further gesture to show his commitment to leaving on October 31, Johnson said in his first speech to the House of Commons that he will not nominate an EU Commissioner. Express pointed out that that would make it difficult to obtain an extension. The term of the current Commission ends on October 31 and the UK would need to field a new EU Commissioner were it to remain in the EU beyond that date.
A defining characteristic of the Johnson Government is its mediocrity. From vlade:
What’s really staggering the the proportion of people who are totally incompetent and believe their own BS (Raab, Moggie, Patel, Leadsom..). I despair for the UK’s education system with Williamson being allowed anywhere near it.
Johnson, in his first speech as Prime Minister, promised the UK was leaving the EU, “no ifs or buts,” in 99 days with a new deal. He also promised economic unicorns that would make Labour blush for its grandiose patter about “safer streets and better education and fantastic new road and rail infrastructure…higher wages, and a higher living wage, and higher productivity we close the opportunity gap” without any specifics as to how to produce such miraculous improvements. Johnson did acknowledge that there was a “remote possibility” that there would be no deal, and so
…we will now accelerate the work of getting ready and the ports will be ready and the banks will be ready and the factories will be ready and business will be ready and the hospitals will be ready and our amazing food and farming sector will be ready and waiting to continue selling ever more not just here but around the world….
I imagine at least some of you in the UK saw Johnson speak, and I feel very sorry for you. I can’t recall ever reading a major address that had so much hot air and so little substance, and what substance there was was deeply wrongheaded. Let’s start with the fact that Sir Ivan Rogers said it would take the UK five to ten years to be ready to trade with the rest of the world on a free trade agreement basis, and pretty much everyone competent to opine has made a similar assessment, if anything tending to the ten year end of the spectrum. So where is this Johnsonian readiness to be found?
On the other side of the channel, EU officials who prefer to communicate in diplo-speak are resorting to sharper notes in their register to try to penetrate the fog around No. 10 and Parliament. You have to wonder if they are responding to the clangor out of a sense of duty, or to demonstrate to their colleagues and history that they did everything they could.
Entirely predictably, they swatted down Johnson’s happy talk. Michel Barnier’s remarks via a Times reporter:
Barnier rejects Johnson’s plan as basis for talks in note to EU27 pic.twitter.com/Bu5qO24O4a
— Bruno Waterfield (@BrunoBrussels) July 25, 2019
Waterfield focused on Barnier’s intimating that a general election might be in store (the “many strong reactions….in the House of Commons”) and that Johnson’s no deal bluster was a gambit to split the EU. But at least as significant was Barnier’s reference to the mandate and his offer to remain the point person during the summer (“don’t worry about your holiday, I’ll let you know if there is anything you really need to hear about”).
By invoking the mandate, Barnier was reminding the EU national diplomats that there isn’t even remotely enough time to negotiate a new Withdrawal Agreement even if the EU was to have a massive change of heart. Barnier is saying that his hands are tied, that he couldn’t discuss a new deal with the UK unless and until the EU went back to square zero and gave him new marching orders. He’s almost certainly reminding them of this section of Article 50:
In the light of the guidelines provided by the European Council, the Union shall negotiate and conclude an agreement with that State, setting out the arrangements for its withdrawal, taking account of the framework for its future relationship with the Union.
Various EU national leaders have backed Barnier’s and Juncker’s position, that the Withdrawal Agreement is the only deal possible given the givens. Barnier is alluding to the notion that in extremis, he could be told to try again, but that would mean having the European Council come up with new guidelines. Even with the addition of an early European Council meeting, no way can this get done by October 31.
Juncker also entirely predictably sent the same message. Notice how closely the language of Juncker’s nein parallels Barnier’s text. From the Guardian:
The European commission president, Jean-Claude Juncker, has told Boris Johnson that the EU27 will not give in to his demand to renegotiate the Brexit withdrawal agreement.
On Thursday in his first telephone call with Johnson as prime minister, Juncker called the existing deal “the best and only agreement possible”…
Juncker said the EU would analyse any ideas put forward by the UK provided they were compatible with the withdrawal agreement, his spokeswoman Mina Andreeva tweeted in a readout of the phone call.
Politico underscored the significance of the minimalism:
But a Commission spokeswoman, providing a brief summary of the Juncker-Johnson phone call, did not even try to put a positive spin on things. She made clear that Juncker expressed no willingness to budge a millimeter, let alone an imperial inch, on the Withdrawal Agreement, which Brussels has stated repeatedly is not open for renegotiation.
But most important is the one possible spot where the UK might be able to drive a chink that could influence the EU is holding firm. From the Irish Times:
Taoiseach Leo Varadkar has told Boris Johnson, the new British prime minister, that an entirely new Brexit deal “is not going to happen”.
He also said negotiating a new deal “within weeks or months” – with Mr Johnson saying he can leave the EU with a new deal by the next Brexit deadline on October 31st – is “not in the real world”.
The press also made much of the fact that Juncker gave Johnson his cell phone number. But Barnier and Juncker appear to have nominated themselves, even more so than usual, to run interference for other EU figures. Juncker seems to like press attention, so putting himself on BoJo’s speed dial will make him less of a lame duck.
Macron has agreed to meet with Johnson in August, while Macron’s spokesperson insisted that the Withdrawal Agreement was not up for discussion. This again is no surprise, given that Macron has been taking a hard line on Brexit.
One wonders how Johnson will fight off a general election. LibDem leader Jo Swinson has written Corbyn to call him out for “aiding and abetting this Conservative Brexit” and insisting he Do Something. On the one hand, despite his bold talk, Corbyn must recognize that Labour is likely to lose seats in a general election, making the noble gesture of ousting Johnson costly. A no confidence motion may fail for that reason, as well as for the fact that previous whip counts found that Tory rebels were outnumbered by Labour MPs who would not vote to derail Brexit.
Will Johnson book so many meetings on the Continent that he can create the impression that motion equals progress? Will the press play along with Johnson, as it did with Theresa May, messaging that a deal is nigh when it was pretty clear no such thing was happening? And even with the Brexit train bearing down on the UK, will party interest manage to keep the opposition from mustering enough votes to turf out Johnson?
Even though politics in the UK still retains the appearance of normalcy, it’s hard to think this false calm will hold once the summer is over. As several astute readers have said, the UK political order is suffering a breakdown. And the early phases of revolutions typically make things worse for ordinary people.
Brexit: Boris Johnson’s Impossibility Theorem
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Man Flu
Book: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Liam x MC (Marcella)
Audience: PG. Humor and Fluff. Some sexual content. Nothing crazy.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixleberry Studios.
Masterlist
Tags: @museofbooks @callmetippytumbles @cocomaxley @hopefulmoonobject @pixieferry @i-choose-liam @zaffrenotes @brightpinkpeppercorn
Marcella laid sexily on the enormous bed. Scented candles flickered brightly, casting a warm glow to illuminate the dim room while emitting a delicious scent. Liam would walk in any minute now from his business trip in Italy. It had been days since she’d been in her husband’s arms and she was anxiously awaiting his return. She looked stunning in her sheer, white, beaded silk nightgown that hugged her curves in all the right places and smelled heavenly courtesy to the perfume Liam had gifted her on their most recent wedding anniversary. The bedroom door slowly opened, heralding her king’s return. She smiled, her body tingling with anticipation. Liam went straight for the bed and sprawled out, eyes closed, still clothed in his royal regalia. Shoes and all. She wasn’t even sure if he noticed she was there. “Liam?” she asked cautiously. He let out a small moan, but didn’t stir. Marcella looked with concern at her husband who lay unmoving on the bed. “Liam, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”
Liam opened his eyes. “Marcella…” he moaned hoarsely. “Don't come too close, my love. I’m dying…”
“You're what?” she asked, alarmed.
“I’m sick. I’m dying…” he repeated, coughing a few times to emphasize his point before closing his eyes again. She gave him a quick once over. He certainly didn’t look like he was dying. In fact, he didn’t even look extremely ill, just a slight flush in his cheeks and a groan or two. She got up to fetch him a cup of tea in hopes that it would make him feel a little less like he was “dying.” She blew out the candles with a sigh on her way out. Apparently this wasn’t going to be the romantic night she’d envisioned for them at all.
ooOoo
“Marcella, I need to go to the hospital!”
“Liam, your temperature is only slightly elevated,” she replied, stroking his forehead with an amused smile.
“That thermometer must be broken then,” he declared, sulking. Marcella had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
“It works perfectly fine, Liam. You’re not dying, you just have a cold, you'll live.” He didn’t look as though he believed her. “Marcella, you don't feel how I’m feeling right now!” he protested pathetically. Such a drama king. When she said her vows ‘in sickness and in health,’ she never imagined this. Last night, Liam had come down with a cold, as demonstrated by his runny/stuffy nose, sore throat, cough, and watery eyes, but from the way he’d been acting, you would have thought the man had caught the plague. Marcella’s expert diagnosis: man flu. The dreaded godfather of all ailments, which takes over the male species at any given time, resulting in grouchiness, moodiness, and general feeling of feebleness and pathetic whining and her brave, confident, resilient husband, the King of Cordonia wasn’t immune to such an affliction. And now she must also suffer. She tried calling for backup, but Liam refused all help from friends and staff not wanting to infect the population. He hadn’t left their bedroom since the night prior, curled up in bed like some kind of overly-large fetus, watching crappy talk shows and requesting honey and lemon drinks in the most pathetic voice she’d ever heard whenever she got anywhere near the vicinity of the landing. He was working her nerves.
“Marcella?” Liam coughed as she bypassed the bedroom on her way to the linen closet. “My love, is that you?” Oh for heaven’s sake. “Yes, Liam. It’s me.”
There he was in the bed, his head laid on a cloud of fluffy pillows, buried under a dozen blankets with Chance curled up at his side. His perfectly placed hair was now a disheveled mess, sticking up in every direction. He sniffled, wiping at his red nose with a tissue before tossing it in the bedside trashcan along with the rest of the discarded tissues. “What now, Liam?” she asked with a sigh. He looked up at her pitifully. “I’d think that in my vulnerable state, you’d speak to me a bit more nicely.”
“You have a cold, Liam.”
“I have the flu,” he replied, looking wounded.
“Yeah, man flu,” she countered. Just then Liam’s phone rang. Marcella answered since her husband claimed to be “too weak” to pick up. It was Drake asking how his best friend was holding up.
“He’s fine. Just over reacting a little,” Marcella said with a grin.
“I am not. You all may very well need a new king.”
“I swear you get more and more dramatic with each day that passes. You’re turning into Regina.” She smiled to herself, knowing he really hated to even consider being anything like the woman.
“Your words wound me more than any case of the flu ever could.”
Marcella sighed again as she entered the room. This was the fifth time in the last hour that Liam had called for her. She tried to rearrange her face into an expression of sympathy, which wasn’t too hard, actually. She wasn’t used to Liam being like this and the sight of him was rather pitiful. He pointed toward the end of the bed. “My feet are cold.” She shook her head. “That’s because you’ve pulled the blankets all the way up and around your chin.” He just looked at her, eyes begging for help. She rearranged his blankets, covering his feet and looked up to see him holding the banana she had brought to him earlier at his request, his look, perplexed, like he couldn’t figure out what to do with it. He held it out to her, a pleading look on his face.
“Seriously? I know you're sick and the king and all, but I know even you can handle peeling a banana. It’s not that hard.” He just sniffled and coughed, and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “Oh, give it here,” she sighed. “You big baby.”
“And could you please cut it up?” he added as she took the fruit from him and cut it up on the small tray that also held his untouched tea. “And be sure to drink up,” she added as she cut the banana. Liam looked at the teacup like it had grown horns. “But…no straw?”
“Since when the hell do you need a straw to drink tea?!” A coughing fit overtook the stricken king, and in between coughs he managed to choke out, “please,” blinking his watery eyes. “And not just any straw. My favorite straw.” Marcella put on a tight smile and mumbled something under her breath as she went to retrieve his swirly straw. When she returned Liam was cocooned so far down into the blankets that only his messy dark hair was visible. “Liam?” she whispered. No answer. She slipped out of the room shutting the door carefully and did a victory dance when she made it to the stairs. “Marcella! My feet are cold again!”
ooOoo
Marcella sighed and shut her eyes as she heard the ringing in her ears. Why did she give Liam that damn bell?! He’d been ringing it incessantly for two days now. She thought it would be better than him bellowing her name every five minutes. She was wrong. He was the king for goodness sake! The man who in his thirty years of life had endured more pain and suffering to last a lifetime, but somehow the common cold brought him to his knees. Every little symptom was cause for complaint and she wasn't sure how much more she could take. She heard the bell ring again, followed by a pitiful moan. “Marcella…” She entered the room, hands on her hips. “You rang, Your Majesty?”
“My love, could you please close the curtains? I’m afraid the sunlight is hurting my sensitive eyes.” She bit her lip and nodded. “Sure.” She walked over and pulled the curtains closed.
“But perhaps not that much. I enjoy a little bit of light.” Her fists clenched as she pulled the curtains open a bit, nearly pulling them off the rod with her solid grip. “Better?”
“Perfect.” He offered her a weak smile. “Thank you.”
“Anything else I can get you before I go? Lemon syrup? Cough drops? I dunno…cupcakes?”
He looked at her, stunned. “You’re leaving?”
“Liam," she sighed. "I’ve been waiting on you hand and foot for three days now. I have to get back to work and make sure things are in order. With Regina and Leo away there's been no one to help cover our duties.”
“I see. Well, my apologies for being so much trouble,” he mumbled.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew what he was doing and it wasn’t going to work. She handed him his phone. “If you need me, call me and I’ll come right back.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” he muttered. “I’m sure I can fend for myself in my declining state.” Against her better judgement, she pressed a kiss to his lips. She didn’t want to risk getting sick, but she knew a kiss would placate him for a bit. “You’ll be fine.” She assured him.
“I beg to differ. I feel like I’m on my deathbed and my head is going to explode. I still think I need to go to the hospital.”
“For the thousandth time, you do not need to go to the hospital. It's just the common cold.”
“There’s nothing common about it.” He scoffed. “Why isn't there a cure for this infernal disease?” he cried in frustration.
“First of all, it isn’t a disease and the only cure is to ride this thing out and try to relieve the symptoms with over the counter drugs like we’ve been doing.”
“I suppose I’ll just suffer then.”
"Whatever you say, my king."
Liam missed Marcella the moment she walked out the door, but then again he always missed her, but he was especially missing the fact that there was no one to take care of him now. Sure he could call on the wait staff, but he wanted his wife. He decided that the common cold was far worse than any other affliction he’d ever faced. Being confined in the bed for three days was absolute hell. He let out a sigh. He was bored. Maybe there was something on tv that would distract him from his pain and suffering. Where’s the remote? He looked on the bed, but didn’t see it. Damn it.
ooOoo
“Hey, Hawkins,” Drake greeted when he spotted Marcella in the hallway. “How’s Liam? Still under the weather?”
“Yeah. And being a huge baby.”
“And you’re surprised?” Said the new voice in the hallway. Olivia. “Men are such pussies when they’re sick.”
“Hey! I resent that.” Drake objected.
“Oh, please. You’re the worst of them all. Remember when you had strep throat?” Olivia grinned.
“I couldn’t swallow.”
“I found you laying in the fetal position on the bathroom floor.”
He shrugged. “It was painful.”
Just then Marcella’s cell phone rang and she saw the name on the screen. Liam. “Speak of the devil,” she said, answering the phone. “Yes, love?”
“I can’t find the remote control.”
“Maybe it fell on the floor or under the bed. Did you look there?”
“I didn't. I’m far too weak and lightheaded.” Marcella pinched the bridge of her nose. She heard him groan.
“Ah, there it is!” she breathed a sigh of relief. “…but…it’s out of reach.”
“Liam, you’re insane if you think I’m coming back just to pick up the remote.”
“Please, my love. I’m losing my mind with boredom.” She sighed. Heavily. “Fine. I’ll also bring you some chicken soup from the kitchens.”
“Thank you, my love.”
She entered the bedroom and found the remote three feet from the bed, handing it to the sick king. “Feeling any better?” she asked. “I am now that you’re here,” he smiled and she couldn’t help but to smile back at him. He was a royal pain in the ass, but he was her royal pain in the ass. “Here’s your soup. Eat up whenever you’re hungry,” she held it up for him to see and placed it on the nightstand. “You’re not going to feed it to me?” She swore that if she didn’t love the man so much she’d probably kill him.
Eventually, Liam gathered up the strength to sit up and eat the soup. He sighed. No spoon. He rung the bell, then remembered that no one would come. Marcella wasn’t there. He sighed again. The soup was now only lukewarm at best. He stared at the door, just the thought of having to go all the way downstairs to warm up the soup and get a spoon was too much to bear. He was far too weak.
Marcella groaned as she looked at the stack of paperwork that had accumulated on her desk over the last few days. She wasn’t even fifteen minutes in before her phone rang. “Yes, Liam?”
“The soup is cold…and I don’t have a spoon.”
She closed her eyes. “And I’m assuming there’s no chance of you going to the kitchen to warm it up and get a spoon.”
“I can’t even consider it in my debilitated state. I’m likely to fall down the stairs if I attempt such a thing.” She rubbed her temple and prayed for patience. He was tap dancing on her last nerve. You love him, you love him, you love him, she chanted in her head serving as a reminder that she vowed to love him no matter what. The worst part was that she knew he would do it for her, but of course, she wouldn’t be the big baby that he was being. But then, she wasn’t a man either. She shook her head. He’s not himself and he will be the caring, charming self-assured man you married in no time. She opened her eyes and glanced at the pile of paperwork, maybe she could use a break.
Marcella entered the bedroom to retrieve the lukewarm soup and she knew he was watching her ass as she left. He was so predictable, no matter how sick he claimed to be. She returned a short time later with piping hot soup and a spoon, agreeing to feed it to him to escape the mountain of paperwork. Liam smiled at her, and took her hand, the act the most natural thing in the world to him and she used her free hand to feed him the soup until he had his fill.
“Thank you for taking care of me, my love. I know I haven’t been the easiest patient.”
“You’re welcome. I know you would do the same for me.”
“I’d do anything for you.” He replied softly. And she knew it was the truth. “And I’m sorry that my intense illness ruined our evening the other night. You looked absolutely gorgeous in that nightgown. I wanted you so bad. But I didn’t want you to get sick too…”
“Yes, I wouldn’t have wanted to catch your uh…’intense illness,’” she agreed. “But its okay, Liam. I love you, and the only thing I want is for you to get better.”
“I love you too,” he replied softly, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feel of each other. Before long, Liam had fallen asleep, letting out a small snore, and she smiled at her beloved, hypochondriac husband as she left to go back to work.
ooOoo
The next morning, Liam was feeling a bit better. He watched his wife as she slept, looking like a peaceful, beautiful angel and felt a tinge of guilt for acting like a self-absorbed fool. He thanked his lucky stars for Marcella's remarkable restraint, obviously taking her vows 'in sickness and in health' very seriously as evidenced to the fact that she hadn't killed him. She was amazing and he needed her to know how grateful he was to be her husband. How fortunate he was to get to spend his life with her. How amazing his life had been since she became a part of it. He threw the covers back and, feeling a little unsteady, forced himself out of bed. He quickly and quietly showered, dressed, and headed downstairs.
Liam entered their bedroom with a tray of eggs, bacon, fruit, his famous Belgian waffles, and a cup of coffee made just how he knew she liked it. He could have easily called the cook, but he wanted to do this for her. With every move, he felt himself gaining more strength and energy. He was beginning to feel much better. I can do anything for her.
“Liam..you...what are you doing out of bed?” Marcella stammered as she sat up.
“Good morning, my love." He sat the tray on the table and sat beside her on the bed. “You’ve cared for me for three days and I wanted to do something to show you my gratitude. Please forgive me for my extreme behavior.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his lips. “There’s nothing to forgive. Like I said before, I know you would have done the same for me. Even though, I wouldn't act like the big baby you were being.” They chuckled and his hand cupped her check, thumb caressing her soft skin, as he looked into her beautiful brown eyes. “Just know that I will never take you for granted. You have made me happier than I've ever thought possible. Getting to wake up next to you every morning and have you fall asleep in my arms every night is nothing short of amazing. I am the luckiest man in the world to be able to call you my wife.” God I love this man. She looked into his dark eyes. The eyes she got to wake up to every morning. He never ceased to amaze her. They shared the amazing breakfast he prepared and ate every bite. “How did you do all of this if you were feeling so sick?”
“I guess love has incredible healing powers.” He winked. “I am feeling much better.” Marcella straddled his lap, snaking her arms around his neck. “Well enough for some extracurricular activities?” she asked seductively. If he wasn't before, he was now. He crushed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, flipping her onto the mattress, his body on top of hers. God how I've missed this. He pulled back and lovingly caressed her cheek as he stared into her eyes.There’s the man I married.
“I think it’s safe to say that someone has made a full recovery. It’s a miracle!” she teased.
“Yes. Thanks to you. You, my love, are the best medicine.” And he gladly accepted every dose of her powerful medicine every three to six hours. Just what the doctor ordered.
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Focus on World Outside Politics, After This Column
Nothing irritates a politician like solving your own problems. They hate the precedent. The thing that impedes life the most is going to make everything wonderful. Sickos who deep down enjoy being punished for existing want the cloddish entity specifically restricted by law to control lives with laws. Why is happiness so elusive?
I beg you to stop thinking about politics, at least for 35 minutes per day. Letting the worst part of life dominate it may not be a sure way to encourage blessings to rain down upon us. You might call someone who cuts you off in traffic a horse's ass. Obsessing about it is like letting that bastard motorist knock groceries out of your hand and unplug your charging phone.
Letting Satan's favorite vessel play a huge role in your life is doing his bidding. Lucifer is a senator at heart giving a monologue at a committee hearing disguised as a question.
Ceaseless focus on politics helps one particular side that both parties sadly tend to find sympathetic. It's inherently liberal to be interested in what Washington's devilish minions are scheming to inflict upon us for our own good.
The presumption that a monolithic demon as uncaring as it is clumsy should play a huge role has added so much. Unfortunately, debt and dependency aren't helpful things to create. Noticing everything sucks is actually a curse if you think you'll improve it.
Experience indicates it's merely a matter of how stupid life will get. Liberals who boast of being reality-based believe federal action can remedy ordinary challenges. By doing so, they make everything worse, which keeps the government they adore busy.
Some particularly obsessive amateur political junkies are ready to fume before brushing their teeth. There's a more important mission to the world than fighting cavities, namely letting the president know he's a dumb jerk as soon as eyes open every morning.
Waking up and wondering what awful thing Trump did overnight is a sure sign of fantastic mental health. Blame him for constant sputtering anger to really get the point. Professional tweet repliers are already scowling as they stab desperately until their phones are within reach. Jeez, focus attention on checking your ex's Instagram.
Unseemly obsession extends to preparing to defend him, too. The noblest knights check what His Majesty did after they have swung into action. Their king's frequent bouts with Mister Dictionary don't dissuade them from thinking the only thing of which he's incapable is error. Indignity aimed at anyone who would dare question a human they perceive as infallible is one version of loyalty.
The sort of people who scold those insufficiently praising rather flawed politicians is an appalling bipartisan trend. But it's purported conservatives who should feel most ashamed. The only thing they're supposed to hate more than government are those who beg for more than half the votes in order to be part of it. Instead, those allegedly devoted to constitutional fidelity found a hero to let make their decisions for them.
Groveling before a president isn't just for pathetic statists anymore. Explaining why virile Trump embodied masculinity by hoodwinking Mexico doesn't even require checking the results. Well, the words are nice. Even that's actually untrue, as the executive sounds like a kindergartener angry about a far-off nap, but at least his boasts are theoretically pleasant.
The only problem is the doing part. You never have to verify in the private sector or anything. A flimflam man who convinced enough marks that he was a success by slapping his name on any tacky product within reach demonstrates salesmanship in his way.
At least be conscious of self-loathing. I write about current events and hate it. The way we're ruled is the one thing I might hate more than Tom Brady's jewelry. Some of us masochistic freaks may be tired of caring about something so miserable. Complaints are with reality. The only legitimate reason to pay attention to politics is to reduce its role in lives that are miserable enough without the Commerce Department's help.
I'm a crazy dreamer who wants to forget we're ruled during everyday life. Is it okay to imagine like John Lennon if I want the exact opposite to happen of a song worse than any of Yoko's? Instead of communally organizing to bring utopia into being this congressional term, I hope for politicians so insignificant that you forget who to hate. The downside to such a beautiful vision is also what makes it possible, namely that we have to work on our own to make it so.
They'll need help to stop trying to help. Our self-appointed shepherds are not going to reduce power on their own. Those upon whom they afflict assistance have to make sure they know how much they're despised.
Toiling against active government is an active process. But preemptive effort beats being told how to spend. Celebrating Christmas on Trump's birthday does not keep him accountable. It's insubordinate to suggest he would ever need questioning. Do you even believe in divine right?
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Review for MAG123 (rambling/pondering/speculating/ etc. /o/)
- That’s it, time is catching up and we’re fully reaching Jon’s era as the Head Archivist: the statement was given on August 1st 2015, explicitly after the end of Gertrude’s reign, and the consequences culminated… when Jon was already firmly rooted in the position:
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: […] I did do some light searching myself on Gregory Cox. … Vanished, unsurprisingly. Sometime in late July 2016, which is… [CHUCKLE] Two years ago. […] It looks like the statement came in just after Gertrude disappeared. […] I may be the first person to actually read it, so… sorry Angie, I suppose.
I always felt strongly for people coming to the Institute as a last resort – not because they wanted to share a story, but because they needed help and that nobody was able or knowledgeable enough to believe them. They don’t appear often (and none has topped the heartbreak of MAG037′s Jason North for me… yet) but they still pop up from time to time, and this one was almost in that category, which served as a reminder that from then on, people’s calls for help will technically be… Jon’s responsibility, too, unless he follows the Institute/Elias’s guidelines (MAG017: “record and study, not interfere or contain” / MAG092: “Jonah Magnus did leave him in that place, Jon. […] it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all. That’s what this place is, Jon, never forget it.”) and declines to get involved. Jude Perry had also snarled about it, so it doesn’t sound like it’s an Institute thing, even less an Archivist, to intervene in anything (aside from stopping other rituals). Despite that, Jon still felt like he had to apologize to Angie – a bit light-heartedly… but he still did, as if he had indeed let down someone who was expecting assistance in her situation. Which… is not even something that Jon used to do in season 1. That’s pretty good?? I had feared that there would be something about his guilt getting cauterized, but no, it’s still sweetbean!Jon-trying-harder from the end of season 3???
(MAG123) BASIRA: Well, just back off. You haven’t been here. ARCHIVIST: O… Okay. You’re right. I haven’t. So explain it to me. […] BASIRA: That isn’t funny, Jon. ARCHIVIST: I know it’s not–! … Sorry. It’s just… it’s a lot.
He’s putting efforts in when interacting!! Relenting!! Taking a step back and calming himself down instead of taking offence right away!! Same strategy as with Tim in MAG114: developing what he’s thinking and avoiding to ask direct questions!! Jon!!!
- … so what the heck HAPPENED for Jon to apparently forget a chunk of memories, starting with the end of The Unknowing (and until – and including – when he apparently ~made his choice~ after Oliver’s statement). Jon might still be lying through his teeth when recording but… it sounds like he indeed doesn’t remember anything and still thinks he’s coming out of a normal (if long) coma (without any actual damage, since he’s back in office two days after waking up (the medical staff wanted to kick him out fast, didn’t they.), but still):
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: [HEAVY SIGHS] Where did the– [PAPERS RUFFLING, THEN MUTTERING] Coma, great! Let’s rearrange his office. Sleeping people don’t need… pens. […] MELANIE: Tim is dead. Daisy is dead. And you, what? You’re just fine? ARCHIVIST: No, I’ve been in hospital for six months! […] ARCHIVIST: [CHUCKLE] Two years ago. … That doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t feel like… … There’s just this… great… gap of time, where I wasn’t. […] [SIGHS] Two days out of a coma, and I’m already tired.
Is it Jon blocking out the memories because he can’t handle them? Beholding censoring them? The Spiders? Something else? (Also, has Jon had the time to visit his flat? Does he still have his flat? Does he still legally exist? I suppose that Tim’s body was Section 31’d, not sure that Jon was even reported as having been at the Wax Museum, the Institute could have transferred him without any proof… but aaaah, what is Jon’s current legal status.) I’m not sure whether the others never telling him outright that hi!! Jon!! only your brain has been functioning for the past six months, what the heck!! is a case of miscommunication (they tend to do that a lot ;;) or… something spooky preventing them from telling him, without them realizing it. Who will drop the news to Jon? Or will Jon remember it/pick up on the hints beforehand? Except his introduction with “the Archivist” and his feeling of being “more real��� (MAG122), there has been no indication whatsoever that… he’s actively aware of something being Different. And I don’t feel like he’s acting differently from the end of season 3 either? He still sounds like he’s Trying a lot, aware that he could make the situation worse by reacting badly? Even powers-wise: he hasn’t compulsed anyone since he woke up (unless the tape recorder doesn’t react to it anymore). And if he doesn’t remember anything of The Unknowing past Gertrude’s appearance, he probably doesn’t remember about the shiny new power of… apparently being able to See/unravel someone’s backstory…
(- But there’s no way that he hasn't in fact become a full Beholding avatar, since he now makes awful Eye puns. “I mean, I know me and Melanie have not always seen eye to eye before” jON UHJBIUBHJHJBNUIHJN NO, DON’T–)
- … yeaaaaAAAAAAaaah, I’m definitely dreading Elias&Jon’s next conversation, whenever it finally happens: I’m fearing more and more that Jon or someone will be reduced to asking for Elias’s help since… nothing is good right now, and how are they supposed to get rid of Peter? How are they supposed to stop becoming a target for other entities? (I’m still wondering if Jon’s clock in his hospital room was Elias’s, and maybe acted as a protection? It’s curious that Jon wasn’t attacked when at his most vulnerable (even half-dead, there could have been ways to ensure he would get a bit deader.), while other avatars, such as Nikola or “Michael”, had been able to track him down before. Then again, the spiders apparently sent Oliver to him, so maybe they’d actually been protecting him, too?) But whether it’s a visit-of-shame to Elias in prison, or Elias coming back by himself at some point… I’m D: that if Jon still doesn’t remember, Elias… might know about it already anyway… He seems aware of which statements Jon reads, according to MAG102, so even assuming he would not know or have witnessed the moment of ~choosing~ firsthand from Jon’s dreams (since he demonstrated that he could see them in MAG120), he… probably has already noticed the switch to “the Archivist” in Jon’s introductions. (And no mention of Jon getting his hands on MAG120′s tape so far, but that one surely won’t be pleasant either.)
- Jon explicitly said that it’s been “Two days” since he woke up, which means that heeee recorded two statements in two days (and received Oliver’s), which is… a lot, but not unheard of (he got three VERY intense weeks from MAG071 to MAG081, and five awful days from MAG089 to MAG094). But!! Interestingly, he ended up audibly drained after this one. I thought he was mostly emotionally drained, but he did explicitly mention getting tired (“Two days out of a coma, and I’m already tired. … End recording. [CLICK.]”) and his voice was getting slower and he sounded like he had trouble focusing. Which means that statements might still be taking their toll on him?
- Belated realisation, thanks to Melanie’s comment that… Well, I had assumed that Basira behaving so warily and firmly around Jon in MAG122 was because she suspected he might have fallen deeper into Beholding, hence the fact that he surprisingly managed to survive? But it’s because Elias’s statement in MAG120, and Oliver’s in MAG121, that we listeners knew that something was in the works in that regard. Other characters… had reason to suspect other things:
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: Me–Melanie, it’s me– MELANIE: No. No. […] How did you make it out, then, mm? […] Tim is dead. Daisy is dead. And you, what? You’re just fine? ARCHIVIST: No, I’ve been in hospital for six months! MELANIE: Something has been in hospital. Something that’s got your face like– I warned Basira, I said not to let you back in here, but she just doesn’t listen!
… with him back as basically a corpse with an active brain, did they initially think that he was one of the Stranger’s creatures that had managed to take his skin? Melanie’s description sounds exactly like… something resulting from an encounter with the Anglerfish… (AND AOUCH AOUCH AOUCH when thinking about Sasha ;; The Not!Them acted differently with her, overwriting her existence in the mind of others, but still… Melanie had been the only one to be able to tell that “Sasha” didn’t look like the Sasha she had met, and had to deal with people not believing her about the differences, back then… And unlike Jon, she actually liked Sasha, from their single encounter… even without taking her Possible Current Slaughter-Induced Condition into account, that would be enough to not want to go through that experience again…).
- ALL THE KUDOS TO LYDIA FOR HER PERFORMANCE THIS EPISODE HOLY HECK… The frenzy and irrationality and rejection was just WOW… And ;; Elias had pretty much stated that she would see Martin ensuring his arrest instead of letting her kill him as a form of betrayal (MAG120: “You didn't tell her. [CHUCKLES] Worried she might create too much of a scene. I understand. I just hope she… doesn’t hold it against you.”), and she hasn't even mentioned Martin in this one but… was not tender about Basira, worse towards Jon:
(MAG123) MELANIE: […] I warned Basira, I said not to let you back in here, but she just doesn’t listen! [STOMPING? AND FURIOUS STRANGLED NOISES] […] You don’t know me. And I don’t know… you, so stay the hell away from me, or I swear– ARCHIVIST: Okay– MELANIE: –I will…
It seems like the influence of the bullet (?) tends to make her see anyone as a potential enemy? ;; According to Elias, she mostly couldn’t stand the feeling of being trapped by the Institute (MAG102: “Even more than the others, she has a visceral hatred of being trapped. Regardless of how much freedom I afford her.” / MAG106: “A rationalization, of course. A lie, about your own selfishness, that you would rather be dead than trapped without the self-determination you prize so highly.”) and it seems to be confirmed that her biggest problem is with the concept of the Institute:
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: Basira said Elias was gone! MELANIE: Oh gone, right, yes yes, he is… he’s gone. Like that makes any difference. ARCHIVIST: I don’t understand. MELANIE: No? You don’t, do you? He’s still alive. You are still alive. So THIS PLACE is still–! [HEAVY STRANGLED BREATHING]
;; She had told Jon that she saw him as responsible when he had talked her into not killing Elias (right now) in MAG102 (“We’ll try it your way. But whatever your way actually is, you’d better figure it out fast. Because it is your fault that I’m here. Fix it, or get out of the way!”), and Elias’s arrest… indeed has fixed nothing. More dead people on the borders; a worst replacement; and attacks on the Institute itself. There is a part of irrationality in her reasoning (Jon wasn’t even there when she accepted the job, and he had done nothing to make her feel at ease in the Institute?) but also enough arguments that hit the mark so efficiently, holy heck. Her words were a riot, fifty shades of HURT and stabbing hearts here and there. She managed to render Jon speechless, for Arceus’s sake!!!
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: Melanie, Melanie: it’s… it’s me. MELANIE: Oh! Okay, so what, “Hi Jon, how are you, get anyone killed lately?” ARCHIVIST: … I… MELANIE: Wipe that look off your face. Like you’re not the reason all of this is happening. Like you’re any better than– ARCHIVIST: [MESSY STUTTERING] MELANIE: –than him!
AOUCH AOUCH AOUCH for the fact that she’s putting Elias and Jon in the same bag!!! D: (And for telling Jon that… the assistants are dying because of him. That it’s a thing that's happening because of him. Tim’s death wasn’t Jon’s fault, he didn’t lie to Tim, but he still used him to stop The Unknowing, just like Tim wanted… from an exterior point of view, it would sound just like Gertrude already. If Jon was remembering any of it in the first place. Right now, for all anyone knows, it’s “Jon came back while Daisy and Tim didn’t”, and Sasha died during the Prentiss attack while Jon didn’t, and it feels like a long string of having assistants dying around/for Jon… until the next ones ;;)
- The use of “we” to talk about Beholding stuff was a bit worrisome:
(MAG123) BASIRA: [SIGHS] Alright. Best I can understand it, Beholding, or The Eye or… whatever you want to call it, we’re one of the only powers that hasn’t actually taken a shot at our ritual. Yet. And everything out there knows it. ARCHIVIST: … No, I mean, we… we can’t be the only ones, surely? BASIRA: I don’t know. Probably not. But we made a big noise with The Unknowing and… other stuff, and… now they’ve taken notice.
… but at the same time, maybe a matter of pragmatism from Basira? Kind of “us against them” talk from an ex-police officer? They’re de facto a “we” since they’re all tied (/trapped) with the Institute right now, and they have more or less the same goal of surviving. (Still, all these “we” to talk about themselves as The Beholding’s ilk hurt ;;)
1°) Basira sounded very cold and not absolutely invested in helping Martin nor preventing Melanie from falling deeper in, but that’s how she was operating before, too, and it’s not far-off from how she used to behave overall with the Institute (the only thing she adamantly wanted to do was to do something against Elias because of what he had done to Melanie after MAG106 and, even then, she didn’t act on her own but invited the others to do something about it). She’s grown colder in these six months, sounds even less ready to help than before, but at the same time… is apparently not serving? It doesn’t sound like they kept recording statements while Jon was away, and Basira was pretty dismissive/downright insulting towards the concept of Beholding when referring to it? And she insisted on leaving as soon as Jon was going to read a statement both in MAG122 and MAG123, while it used to not bother her with Martin? At least, Basira has turned against the tape recorders (“And we’ve got an audience. Perfect. I thought you said you decided to throw them all out.” “Yup. And I did. And here’s another one.”) which… is probably a good thing (or she’ll pay for it later ;;). Will Jon will be back to being the only one to record statements for a while?
2°) Squinting at the “The Unknowing and… other stuff”: is it about Gertrude interrupting the other rituals before, or did the assistants… do some other things while Jon was away? (Was there another leak of statements to the public?)
3°) Aouch aouch that of course, them preventing the other rituals from succeeding would be perceived as a matter of ensuring that their ritual would win the game… and not just plainly preventing the world from being transformed into a “factory farm” for any of them. Last time, The Stranger’s attempt had been countered by avatars from The Slaughter, and we know that The Tundra had brought Gertrude and Michael Shelley to the place where The Spiral’s ritual would happen (+ The Dark might have made a move against the old Archives in Alexandria in the 4th century, according to MAG053): it’s not only an Archivist thing to meddle with others’ rituals, people serving the powers do it all the time… but the Magnus Institute has probably been a bit too good at it to go unnoticed. Of course it would be their turn to be perceived as The Enemy…
4°) It doesn’t look like there could be many options to get out of this, uh ;; Either they stay on standby in the Institute forever (/until another power manages to wipe them out); either they launch the ceremony to get a chance of survival, or out of loyalty (ahaha.); either they find a way to kill their ceremony in the egg; either they find alternative ways. Will Jon try to make an alliance with other avatars? I’m… not sure that the archive team going vocal about not wanting to launch theirs would result in anything good: sounds a bit too much like blasphemy for it to be well-perceived by others? Is it even possible to turn against your own god without dying pretty quickly, even if Jon keeps on with the regular feeding-what-feeds-you thing through the written statements and his own fears (and avoiding the live-statements)? There have been a suspicious amount of deaths by heart diseases/cancers amongst people who were not serving while theoretically being tied to an entity (Evan Lukas, Gerry…), I’m not sure those were… natural.
- … sudden realization that maayyyybe The Lonely doesn’t have a ritual? Gerry was a bit ambiguous about it but at the same time literally said that not all of them had one:
(MAG111) ARCHIVIST: […] Tell me about the rituals. GERARD: Well, they all have one. Most of them, anyway. Takes centuries to build up to a level of power where they can try it, and if they fail, it’s back to square one. ARCHIVIST: Okay, but what do the rituals do? GERARD: They… kind of “shift” the world, just enough for the Power to come through. Merge with reality. Some say, or well, they guess, that it could bring other entities through with them. I mean, I doubt The Buried would be bringing through The Vast, but you know.
Could this be why The Lonely is collaborating with many other powers’ projects and throwing money around despite its, uh, whole… concept… of isolation…? (The ties with the Institute dating from its foundation, given that Mordechai Lukas was already on friendly terms with Jonah Magnus, that the Lukas family are currently patronaging it, and that Peter even helped Gertrude when she went to stop The Spiral; the Lukas also co-financed the Daedalus project with people from The Dark and The Vast…) Does it need to leech on others in order to have a chance to sneak in?
- I’ve literally spent a whole weekend with someone who would occasionally suddenly snortgiggle before muttering “Coma? great! Let’s rearrange his office.” out of the blue so: same, I’m still laughing hard at the return of rambling grandpa!Jon, I’M JUST LOVE HIM…
(MAG123) [CLICK–] ARCHIVIST: [HEAVY SIGHS] Where did the– [PAPERS RUFFLING, THEN MUTTERING] Coma, great! Let’s rearrange his office. Sleeping people don’t need… pens. [DISGUSTING MOIST SOUND] Ewagh? Oh, wha–
and I effing love the writing because it was an incredibly funny line (Jon is SO funny when he complains and takes mundane little things personally), it was also a very functional one (informing us right away that he’s back in his office, and that people apparently got access to it/moved things around when he wasn’t there, possibly that The Flesh attack reached all the way into there?, and that it’s another detail in the stack of alien things making him disorientated) aaaand it made the verbal roughness, the bittersweetness and the heartbreak even more violent afterwards. We began the episode laughing about Jon, we end it feeling awfully sad, thanks Darkrai. (I was wondering what was the disgusting thing that Jon had found/perhaps tried to eat or drink? Apparently, Word Of God confirmed on Discord that it was something disgusting under his desk. So, I’m guessing it was something from The Flesh’s attack. Still: laughing HARD at Jon just being earnest in his disgust =D)
- I’m not even mad at Jon for cracking up about Peter Lukas because seriously:
(MAG123) BASIRA: He’s been… restructuring. Separating out the departments a bit. Not a surprise, I guess, with his pedigree. ARCHIVIST: But i–if you’ve never… seen him, I mean… BASIRA: Rumour is, a couple of researchers up on the third floor decided to ignore some of his new directives, and… wwwsssshhhh. ARCHIVIST: … Sorry, what’s “wwwshhhh”? BASIRA: Wsssshhhhh. Gone. ARCHIVIST: … oh.
Oh My Gods, Peter. (He had mentioned that Elias was “very protective of his people” and given that Elias had allowed Martin to be besieged by worms for two weeks, Sasha to get killed by an agent from The Stranger, Tim&Jon to get worm’d, and that he traumatized Martin&Melanie himself… yeah, it was already a huge red flag for Peter’s own standards. And the Institute’s people are not even Peter’s people.) I kinda hope that the researchers are still alive, “just” isolated, though, because I’m not too fond of NPC dying around the corners when they were only doing their job and are not given any attention outside of “they dead” for nervous laughter :w But I’m also cracking up a lot jknrhdfjnrf Peter, that was so gratuitously extra fezhjdcfdnk… … I wonder how Rosie is doing.
- But, more seriously, WOW about how Peter is… already unsettling precisely because characters can’t reach him while he has an effect on them anyway. And he’s unsettling to listeners too, in the way he totally avoids categorizations so far! We don’t know what his intentions are, we don’t know why he’s set his eyes on Martin (sheer dumb bad luck because Martin was in the office the first time? Martin being a prey of choice for The Lonely partially because of sad one-sided gay crush, lack of relationships and no family? Elias sending him after Martin because less valuable, or precisely because he was reading statements? Martin having ties to the Lukas?), we don’t even know why he was specifically chosen by Elias as a replacement (Is it to prepare The Watcher’s Crown? It is to buy some time by having the assistants focusing on a shared enemy instead of teaming up against The Beholding? Is it because Peter was still the lesser evil for the Institute? Is it because the Lukas would have taken over anyway and Elias tried to damage-control the transition? Is it because Peter is supposed to keep an eye on Jon and nobody else?) ;; Even if he’s not intrinsically tied to Martin, I’m worried that there could be rumours in the Institute about how Martin could actually be the one pretending to be Peter…
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: [LONG EXHALES] Yes. Well, I’m sure there are better ways to deal with it than getting cosy with Elias’s successor. Who I’ve yet to meet, by the way. BASIRA: [CHUCKLES] Yeah, join the club. ARCHIVIST: Sorry, you haven’t– BASIRA: Nop. Never seen him. As far as I can tell, Martin’s the only one who has. ARCHIVIST: … right. A–and you’re sure he’s… real? BASIRA: We get emails from him. Memos. ARCHIVIST: [HUMOROUS EXHALES]
…………….. the fact that Basira and Melanie have never met him is extra-weird, though, since he had asked Martin to bring them to him at the end of MAG120:
(MAG120) PETER: Oh, what’s that look for? You won! I am sorry if it doesn’t look quite like you hoped, but… here we are. MARTIN: I suppose so. So what now? PETER: Well, if you could send Melanie and Basira up to see me, I’d like to introduce myself.
Did Melanie&Basira come to the office and not realize that he was there (not seeing him while he was seeing them)? Or did they meet him and… immediately forget the encounter, somehow? It’s also strange, actually, that Elias never ever mentioned that he had chosen Peter as an interim director (even when he was escorted by the police officer, he didn’t taunt Martin about it), or even that he had been talking with Peter. We only have Peter’s word that he did…
- … is it a Lonely thing specifically, or is there something deeper about how some avatars (such as Agnes?) sound… more tied to a power than regular ones? This is the second time that a sentence referred Peter as an incarnation of The Lonely itself, and Martin had strongly reacted to it the first time (which… raised suspicions):
(MAG108) PETER: Ah, I see. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. It’s one of Elias’s little jokes. MARTIN: I don– What? PETER: Did he suggest you record a statement today? One that mentioned me? MARTIN: … yeah? Sssort of? I mean… not you specifically, but…
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: […] Haven’t seen Martin about yet? BASIRA: Yeah, he comes and goes. He’s busy. Well, he seems it. ARCHIVIST: Working for Peter Lukas. […] Martin is working very closely with The Lonely, who is, predictably enough, isolating him […].
I don’t really remember other cases in which a Fear and an agent of it were equated so directly? Is there something deeper in here? *squints*
- I wonder if Jon will meet him soon, or if Peter will avoid him too, or if Jon will try to force his way to him. Technically, communicating through emails and memos is the best way for anyone to avoid Jon’s compulsion, so… he could still elude Jon. (I would have found it extra-funnier if he had met everyone but prevented Jon specifically from meeting him, what with Jon getting so frustrated about Elias telling him to back off when the Lukas were involved in past statements, but it seems like nop, it’s everyone-except-Martin! … Martin T___T). … if it were season2!Jon, he would probably have tried to break into Elias’s office anyway, to force a meeting and/or to try to get the rest of the files that Elias had taken from Gertrude (he had stolen the key for the tunnels from Elias’s desk before MAG041, after all) but 1°) not sure that Elias’s office is still accessible, 2°) not sure that Jon would find anything (never mind anyone) inside, 3°) Peter could make sure that Jon would grow to regret it, given how things have been going so far. (*whispers* I have no idea what Jon’s plans are since he’s been baaaaack, aarrrrg!!!)
- One of the constant things for the past two episodes has been about Jon losing small anchors, small familiar details: Georgie having enough and leaving; Basira being cautious and wary, then cutting and dry (“Ah… what do I do if… Melanie comes back…?” “I don’t know. Play dead.” was just outright MEAN, holy heck…); Melanie being hostile and threatening; Martin being… absent and working for someone else. Tim and Daisy are dead. Elias is gone and that good news is tempered with the fact that he got replaced by Peter Lukas, messing up the Institute. Jon’s clothes have been thrown away (uh.), his request of tea was cut short (while until now it was usually offered to him); his office was meddled with. It indeed feels like waking up in another world, with his footing thrown off balance, since he is aware now of what had been lost (and that it also covers missed opportunities: “I wish I could talk it through with Martin. … Or Tim. Or Sasha. But we never really did that, did we…?”).
… I wonder how Jon will behave, next time he’ll see “Helen”. Six months have passed, there is no guarantee that she will still be as unsettled as she was in MAG115, but maybe Jon could understand that situation a bit deeper, now.
- The only “stable” thing has been the tape recorder popping up again, now fully acknowledged as being totally autonomous and… choosing to be there and record whether they agree to it or not.
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: […] Aaand we’ve got an audience. Perfect. I thought you said you decided to throw them all out. BASIRA: Yup. And I did. And here’s another one. ARCHIVIST: Maybe it’s hungry. BASIRA: Seriously? ARCHIVIST: I mean, I did have a statement I was planning to record. BASIRA: Great. Perfect. You can get on with that, and I’ll just leave, then. [CHAIR SCRAPING]
Laughing for a long while at the fact that they now sound like demanding babies that will ruin your life if you decide to not cater to their needs right away. ;; I’m sobbing a bit at the mix of… annoyance turning into “trust”, with Jon ending the follow-up with his own feelings about what has been lost. It’s nothing new, but, I don’t know. It always feels more intimate when Jon acknowledges the tape recorders as sentient or actively listening? He hadn’t done it much, so far (unlike Martin), mostly in indirect ways.
- Jon is still a sweet bean… but I didn’t feel like he was as disgusted/scared of spiders as usual…? Is it a matter of knowing a bit more about them, or has he lost some of his fears by turning full Archivist? He used to react very strongly when it came to spiders:
(MAG056) ARCHIVIST: […] As for the spider person, the only… proof of its existence seems to be that I am far too unlucky for it to simply be an old tramp’s hallucination. I need to have some words with Martin.
(MAG059) ARCHIVIST: […] I have done my best to prevent Martin reading this statement in too much detail. I have no interest in having another argument about spiders. In fact, after reading this statement, I have no interest in thinking about spiders any more than is professionally required.
(MAG068) ARCHIVIST: I’m in the tunnels. I was exploring and I got lost. I haven’t gone down any of the stairs and I– I think I’m still under the Institute. There were a couple of spiders, so I changed routes and found, I think it’s a gas main.
(MAG069) ARCHIVIST: Statement ends. More spiders. […]
But true that there hadn’t been any Web-related statement afterwards in season 3 (or not… explicitly), except for his own, the failed attempt in MAG100, and the one Martin read in MAG110 and explicitly mentioned that Jon hadn’t worked on it (“I mean, I think it sounds like a Jurgen Leitner book. About spiders. Hum. Good that Jon didn’t have to read this one, anyway, I know he’s not a fan – although this one wasn’t too bad, actually.”) Maybe the fact that Jon gave his own statement about Mr. Spider, and learned more about the entities and a bit about The Web, removed some of the horror? It’s an aspect of the Beholding that Jane Prentiss had denounced (MAG032: “I see now why the hive hates you. You can see it and log it and note its every detail but you can never understand it. You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.”); but at the same time, we know that Jon used to feel the fears of the statements he was reading, and he was terrified during his dreams when Elias described them in MAG120… (;; Given how turning into an avatar seems to steal from you, I’m a bit paranoid about everything and wondering if anything that feels different in Jon is related to thiiiis…)
- It isn’t established, either, whether he had planned to record this statement right now, or if he wanted to research it a bit more (“I mean, I did have a statement I was planning to record”) and ended up recording now since the tape recorder looked like it wanted to be fed! I’m curious about why it ended up being this statement in particular since… spiders. Was Jon drawn to this one by them? Has he started to investigate spiders-related ones because he’s suspecting that they’re actually more important and dangerous than what he thought before?
- Since Jon said “I have no theories on it, no… no sudden insights” -> I wonder if “Insight” is referring to what happened with him suddenly knowing that Gerry had travelled with Gertrude (MAG099/MAG102)? It sounds like the right word to cover the phenomenon, indeed.
- The statement was tied to so many incidents happening in the Archives that it… raised questions as to whether or not these events were connected. Gregory Cox was contacted to begin his work on the website shortly before Gertrude’s death; the statement was given to the Institute after Gertrude’s death (1st August 2015) and either when Jon had just been appointed as new Head Archivist, either shortly before; Gregory Cox himself disappeared in late July 2016, which was around Prentiss’s attack on the Institute (Jon took the statements from the staff post-attack on July 29th 2016). Jon got suspicious, at the very least, but it was also… a series of reminders of what had happened to Jon in the Archives since he began with the job, what was lost, and the gap between what truly happened and Jon’s awareness of it?
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: […] Sometime in late July 2016, which is… [CHUCKLE] Two years ago. … That doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t feel like… … There’s just this… great… gap of time, where I wasn’t. […] [SIGHS] I wish I could talk it through with Martin. … Or Tim. [SHORT SAD CHUCKLE] Or Sasha. But we never really did that, did we…? … Everything’s changed. … [SIGHS] Two days out of a coma, and I’m already tired. … End recording.
The Prentiss attack was also when Sasha got killed; she’s been dead for one year and a half, at present time. And yet, it took Jon six months to realize it, and he spent another six months in a “coma” afterwards – he was only aware of it for a third of that time (from February to August 2017). Tim has been dead for six months too, and yet for only two days for Jon. No wonder the timeline feels so messed up to him…
- Following up on dates: taking a step back to think about the passage of time also helps to contextualize a bit where characters are standing. It… might have influenced Basira and sheds some light on the fact that she sounds so firm (almost ruthless) to Jon right now. She had met him a few times before, but she joined the Institute (/was coerced into signing a contract) on April 28th 2017; Jon was barely present afterwards, keeping some distance with the assistants (as Martin mentioned in MAG098), then getting kidnapped for a month, then being sent to China and America, before they went to stop The Unknowing on August 6th. That’s barely three months and a half, during most of which Jon wasn’t physically there nor trying to be emotionally present with the assistants, versus more than six months with Melanie and (a bit of) Martin, trying to keep things afloat in a place she never chose to be, and which she joined only to save Daisy and/or herself and the other archival staff under Elias’s threats… when Daisy is now “dead”. I don’t think that Basira regrets stopping Daisy when she was on the verge of killing Jon, back in MAG091, but I cannot help but think that she at least wondered how things would have unraveled, afterwards, if she had allowed it? Maybe The Unknowing would have happened, but maybe other people would have stopped it. There is, at least, something very heart-wrenching in the fact that Basira had agreed to become a prisoner and coercing material to save someone from the Hunters of Section 31, when that person is currently officially dead, and that Basira is still trapped and that she was the one who had to be “keeping things together” (s4 trailer) in that place. I mean! She was planning to get in control of her own agency by the end of season 3:
(MAG117) BASIRA: I don’t want to be here. But by the end, I didn’t want to be police either, so… guess I don’t really know what I do want, which… maybe that’s just as well. My options… they’ve gotten a lot narrower over the last year. I don’t know. I feel kind of bad. Everyone seems to be having a much worse time of it than me, and I was meant to be the hostage. It’s amazing, how much you can ignore when you keep your head in a book. Mf! My dad would hate me talking like this. He couldn’t stand people who just passively moaned about their problems. He always said: “If you don’t like something, you accept it and you adapt; or your fight and you change it. Whining doesn’t help.” I’ve always tried to live like that, but I think sometimes… you feel like you’re adapting, but… it’s just denial. But not anymore. I’m going to fight and change it. I just hope I’m not heading into the wrong battle.
… but it was also when she was presenting Daisy as her own anchor (“she’s solid. She’s a fixed point. And if she’s there, I know exactly where I stand, exactly what I’m doing relative to her.”), and now she’s lost her. There would be enough to get very resentful and bitter about the Institute and the fact that she has to be the one in charge of everything, and that she doesn’t see Jon as a reliable person. Quite clearly, she doesn’t see him as a leader right now – and indeed, Jon… never was one.
- ;; for Basira being defensive of Melanie, despite it all!!!
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: You were attacked. … When? BASIRA: About two months ago. It was… it was The Flesh. ARCHIVIST: [MUTTERING] Oh god. BASIRA: Yeah, it was bad. We took them all out. Melanie did most of them. She was… she got a knife from somewhere and– ARCHIVIST: Basira, I… I don’t know if that’s a good sign…? BASIRA: … She saved my life, Jon. She saved all of us. I won’t forget that.
Jon is probably right on that one (the more Melanie gives in to The Slaughter, the worst it will get, probably); on the other hand, yeah, Basira indeed can’t really blame Melanie’s murderous urges if it actually protects them when nothing else does. She was also oddly defensive of Martin, after throwing some shade at him during season 3?
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: [SIGHS] Fine… Fine. Haven’t seen Martin about yet? BASIRA: Yeah, he comes and goes. He’s busy. Well, he seems it. ARCHIVIST: Working for Peter Lukas. BASIRA: Don’t be too hard on him, Jon. Your, er… “situation”, it hit him. Hard.
;; Not one to kick the puppy when he’s (too) down, is she.
- … I wondered if Martin’s visit to Jon from the trailer was after The Flesh attack. He had claimed that he had decided to be more active, in MAG117, which resulted in him confronting Elias in MAG118 and the arrest in MAG120… but now, we know that it made their whole situation even more unstable and threatening, since Peter didn’t even protect them against The Flesh? So Martin probably felt responsible for that failure? ;; He was the one who ultimately threw Elias out of the picture and that backfired badly… In the trailer, he asked if the others would be “safe”, apologized and said goodbye to Jon, so it did sound extremely bad already, but if it happened after The Flesh attacked and he only got saved thanks to Melanie going on a rampage… no wonder that he went for something that already sounds an awful lot like self-sacrificing, in turn… (No clue about the details of what he’s doing ;; Does he specifically have to avoid the others as part of the deal? Did he trade his cooperation for a bit more protection for the others? … Is he actually helping in preparing The Watcher’s Crown, whether he knows about it or not? Or something specifically tied to The Lonely?)
- IT BREAKS MY HEART that Jon apparently still doesn’t get Martin and… is kind of assuming the worst from him? His wording was almost insulting:
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: [LONG EXHALES] Yes. Well, I’m sure there are better ways to deal with it than getting cosy with Elias’s successor. […] Martin is working very closely with The Lonely, who is, predictably enough, isolating him […].
On the one hand, Jon already picked up that Martin being inaccessible is not natural. On the other hand, “cosy with Elias’s successor”?? He… didn’t raise the possibility that Martin had been coerced, or had no other choice since the assistants had to find ways to survive while Jon was simply not there?? It… could be, once again, Jon Biting Because Hurt – hurt that Martin, who was supposed to be a fixed point, is not there, and the bitterness turning into resentment. He was pretty insidiously vicious to Basira after Georgie’s departure in MAG122 (“… What about you? Disappointed to see me alive? … Basira?”), and it’s a usual Jon thing, so… But I’m really worried that the next time Jon and Martin finally see each other, it… will probably turn out to be a disaster. If Martin apologized to Jon in the trailer, it means he’s already doing something to feel ashamed of, and probably won’t want to have Jon anywhere close to it, or Jon misunderstanding what he’s aiming for. Or he could have changed, too, in these six months (;; when we left him in MAG120, he was very adamant about calling Peter ~Mr. Lukas~ to keep some distance between them, I really hope it hasn’t switched to “Peter” in the meantime. In a way, it would be more terrifying to picture Martin as not frightened of him anymore…?). And Jon sounds more peeved than worried about what Martin is doing, which makes me fear that he won’t be as patient with him as he was with Basira in this episode. There are so many ways it could go just awfully that… I don’t think that they will be ~nice~ to each other. (Hey!! Speaking of Hurting and How Things Could Get (More) Awful: it’s not like Idiot Jon could spit out that he heard about the crush in a moment where he would be blaming Martin for being fickle and switching loyalty so easily, is it!!)
- There is a question raised about who filed the statement, since it was given after Gertrude’s death:
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: […] No notes or follow-up here that I can see, just… [SIGHS] It looks like the statement came in just after Gertrude disappeared. Another gap. And whoever took it didn’t do any follow-up, just… filed it away. I may be the first person to actually read it, so…
It could have been Jon who filed it, while mindcontrolled? Or one of the assistants? Or a random staff member? But someone filed it after Gertrude’s death, and without following the usual procedure, so… there might be something.
- Ssssooo Annabelle (assuming it’s her but. That description. This “network of pale stitches that stretched over one side of her head” wasn’t made of surgical stitches, uh) has been doing her own stuff for the past seven years… lo… vely… *cries*
1°) Spiders seem to be adamantly polite. Mr. Spider had “IT IS POLITE TO KNOCK” (MAG080), Annabelle wanted to have “Come in!” where the ~threads~ (YUGHJBNYUGHB I HATE) would be posted (MAG123). THAT’S SO NICE FROM THE ENTITY THAT MINDCONTROLS PEOPLE…
2°) Thank you Nelja for picking up that the website’s name was “Chelicerae”, I wouldn’t have made the word out on my own, and I’m half admirative, half horrified that you immediately understood what it was. *screams*. (Either spiders are super-smooth, operating from the shadows, hiding their very existence, either they don’t give a funk and are just the unsubtlest things that ever unsubtled. Very urban/school-legend like, though, I got Jigoku shōjo and Higanbana no Saku Yoru ni vibes from the concept of the thing!)
3°) ;; The website was created and running during Gertrude’s last moments as the Archivist… and shortly before Jon took over, and we know that a few people from the website went to the Institute. So it feels like the spiders might have been using the opportunity given by the transition to sneak into it…?
- Ooooooookay, but anyway. The concept of the website sounded like a mirror of the Institute, inviting you to tell a “horrible event that had happened to you or to someone that you loved”, though, unlike the Institute, baiting people with a reward (getting someone killed), and with a bit more ruthless selection process than the Institute’s, where… fake made-up statements are just taken and won’t cause you any harm (the only risk being that your story will be put in the “Discredited” section in the Archives and receiving Jon’s glares). The “Chelicerae” on the other hand wins in both cases: if you give a fake story, you’ll apparently be the one getting consumed (“I’m sorry I lied”); if you give an actual one, the person you hate will get killed by them… annnnd as Jon put into perspective:
(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: […] There’s a small supplemental document with it, though, that is a… bit alarming. I–it’s apparently a list of people whose names appear in the various pieces of text Mr Cox was pasting into the code. It’s unclear if they were meant to be… users or victims, but I cannot help but note that there seem to be the names of several statement-givers who found their way to the Institute, including noted arachnophobe Carlos Vittery. Perhaps a coincidence, just… people… shopping their traumatic event around… but I have to wonder… how much their actions were their own.
… some of the people with actual stories were sent to the Institute. The whole basis of the website sounds like ~a spider catching flies in its web~, it sounded like the point of it: getting stories? Was it The Web gifting the statements to the Institute/Archives, or was it way to make its way inside of it? In any case, yIIIIIPS… (I love/hate how there were so many concerning things in this episode and then… the confirmation that The Web has been doing a lot from the shadows for a while, while we discover it has been more active than what we could fear…)
- I’m so mad about the pun for this episode (“Web development”) rizefjkdsnfd and… given the weird parallelism between Annabelle’s website and the work at the Institute (and the fact that The Web most likely sent people to give their statements to the Magnus Institute), I can’t help but think back to MAG065… and… I’m going… to be… very mad… if the trick… was that… the “power” at work in that one… was actually a Web+Beholding collaboration of some sort … because. The title. Was “Binary”.
(Which worked because Internet + Tim&Jon arguing at the end, and Jon making the distinction between the Institute’s agents/victims… but if!! the thing!! in the statement!! was that it was actually about two powers willingly trying to work together… I had personally suspected either Beholding, either The Web, either The Spiral for that one, but given that you can also summarize it as “someone was forced to watch a terrifying video, which would pursue her until she agreed to watch it through to the end”… there is the trapping and the seeing something that you would rather avoid but that you have to watch even if it makes you suffer. And we have known for a while that spiders were spreading in the tunnels below the Archives, and the whole thing about the Assistants being trapped by the Institute has always felt more like a Web thing than a Beholding one to me… So… *squints*. Is the Web trying to force its way into the Institute and/or to parasite its ritual and/or to prevent it, or is it an actual willing and mutual collaboration?)
As usual: what does Elias know about it? He said he hadn’t bothered with Tim’s backstory but surely he would have known about Jon’s and his encounter with The Web as a child, before hiring him, he wouldn’t be this dumb? (… I’m honestly not sure. It was already super dumb and lazy to not bother with Tim’s when, come on, there were only three assistants initially, you… could have… bothered…) And even if he hadn’t known before offering the position to Jon, he would have known after MAG081 and Jon giving his own statement…? And he didn’t especially change his stance on Jon afterwards, it didn’t seem to bother him that Jon had been marked by The Web. So what the heeeeeck Elias, did you plan something in that regard or were you completely fooled too… He had insisted a lot on his free will (“it’s also very important to me, in a personal capacity, that you understand I’m answering you of my own free will. […] There’s so much of this place, of ourselves, twisted by forces far beyond us. I just wanted you to know– […] It’s very important to me you understand that no action I have taken has been controlled. I have done everything because I wished to.”) and told Jon “And your will is still your own, mostly.” back in MAG092 (that “MOSTLY” was… uh.)… which sounds more and more concerning know that we have confirmation that The Web has been lurking and scheming… What do you know about it, you terrible garbage man, you……………………
(I love how there are so many reasons to get anxious about everything??? Spiders, Lonely, Watcher’s Crown incoming, Martin doing… stuff, Melanie getting worse and worse, Jon’s whole status / what happened for him to be able to wake up?? So many elements laid around for things to get terrible pretty quickly??? Aaarrrgggg.)
#*goes to make tea and pet a cat*#the magnus archives#mag123#4#5#tma spoilers/#tma season 4#tma liveblog
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