#and everything I found interesting about jade has been reduced to ‘she was in a relationship with the stalker and she’s dead now. sad!’

[cephalon-celaeno]

update i REALLY didn’t like this quest. it’s just that usually i consider warframe to be a game with extremely competent writing and this is… hmm. not.

huh! I already knew I wouldn’t like this quest so my opinion doesn’t count but I don’t like this quest!

[danmei-confessions]

I truly think SVSSS deserves a revision more than any of MXTX's other novels.

I love the novel, yes, but it is poorly written. MXTX rushed the chapters after Bbingqiu's reunion due to using VIP lock for the first time and it makes the writing distinctly worse. I understand that she was young while writing it, which is the whole reason why it deserves a revision. The novel could have so much more potential than it currently does and it's no wonder that it's her least popular when even fans of her other novels choose to not read it due to being uninterested.

So much more story could be added, or just minor details. For example, we barely know anything about the 12 peaks all together, and unless you make up facts, there's practically nothing on their peak lords too. I see complaints about the SVSSS wiki being empty regarding the peak lords and I hate to say it, but that's NOT due to the moderators but rather pure lack of content. Hell, most of the facts that do existed were only in the light novel and not in the web novel at all. There's such little information it's really not shocking that the fandom runs on head-canons. In all 100 chapters of her novel, half of it in slightly plot, while the other is SQQ being... SQQ.

I have so many thoughts on the potential SVSSS has:

Despite it being mentioned that there are 'plenty of minor sects' we only hear the name of one.

Despite sects like Tian Yi or Zhao Hua being a part of the main 4, we know almost nothing about them, how they run, or their disciples/sect lead (literally the only named Tian Yi disciples are the 3 nuns). We also don't know their locations, what locations they control, or their history

The past events of SVSSS (before SY transmigrated) are so messy. Theres only 2 timelines I've found here on tumblr and even those are so different from each other. Theres no clear years compared to TGCF or MDZS and its so frustrating. This also leaves characters practically age-less (other than like. Binghe) unlike her other characters.

Almost none of the side-characters grow development with anyone other than Shen Qingqiu. I say 'almost' but I can not name any off the top of my head. There are characters that have/had such interesting relationships that were completely thrown out the window For The Plot. This is so.... disappointing, considering other character's relationships make up the plot! It's not only the MC!

Everything being rushed is heartbreaking, and with a re-write I think arcs such as the Holy Mausoleum, Jin Lan, Borderlands, etc could become SO much more interesting. Alongside that, the Mai Gu Ridge situation was blown off so fast?? Like, it was mentioned that the Endless Abyss was breaking through CCM, then just never mentioned again...

Power Scaling. Fights. Actual fights between people who aren't LGQ or LBH. We only really got NYY/LPM, MBJ/his uncle, and TLJ/LBH. Most of those were ALSO rushed.

The System's appearance was reduced LARGELY in the later chapters-almost like MXTX forgot about them. The whole first 2 volumes include The System so much, and its unique! functions! all for it to be disregarded and those functions to never be used other than the jade necklace.

Actually going into the wonderous world of PIDW that is claimed to have interesting weapons (only Xin Mo was shown), locations, plants (only Qingsi and that one thats too long for me to feel like typing shown), and creatures (only rly ZZL and Madam Meiyin shown).

That's all I really have right now. I'm not trying to be an anti of MXTX's other novels. I just think that SVSSS has so much potential that she could have brought out if she had chosen to revise it. I love TGCF and MDZS very much, they have great scaling, brought-out potential, and relationships that SVSSS so could have.

I do want to exclaim that out of all her 3 novels SVSSS has been my favorite for years. I genuinely feel upset that it was not the one picked despite how obvious it is that it has barely any NEW content. Or at the least, confirmed facts. In her QNA's most of the questions are purely MDZS/TGCF while there's maybe 2 SVSSS ones. Those few questions answered by her are literally lifelines for some fans. (Such as heights and Moshang) The novel could become popular just if the criticisms/potential of it were actually addressed. I'm not saying that casually but I am very sure of it as MXTX is a freakishly great writer and she COULD take the novel to the same heights as TGCF/MDZS if she truly wanted to.

.

[no-where-new-hero]

Fire and Hemlock Readalong: Day 21 (Part 4, Ch. 2)

...in which Polly begins her journey.

This chapter shows us the benefit of Polly's older years: while in the midst of events she was rarely able to contextualize them either by magical or societal standards, her 19-year-old self is capable of looking back on her 10-15-year-old self and seeing it in the third-person, as it were, with a jaded eye. She cringes over her adolescent crush and reduces her 15-year-old behavior to one moment--clinging onto Tom's arm. She never tries to justify any of it to herself, interestingly. She does not try to worm her way out of her own feelings.

We also get some interesting background on Fiona. Hitherto, she's been an ally in tomboyishness but not delved into with nearly the same amount of detail given to Nina, who has already exhibited parallels to Polly. Now Fiona shows another similarity to Polly in the crush she develops on a businessman friend of her father's. I think at this point we may argue that Nina is perhaps the only young character in this novel not caught up in a relationship situation with an extreme power imbalance, which is another piquant facet of Nina's personality.

Seb's role in everything again is raised here, when Polly realizes the "giants and dragons" she expected around every corner “were there all the time, in the person of Seb.” He's a bit of a trickster figure in this novel--helping Polly when it suits him and barring her way when it doesn't.

We also finally return to Stow-on-the-Water and get a lot of strange cryptic information that I know is important, even though I can't quite iron it out: in the first place, we get confirmation that Leslie is still falling dangerously under the spell of Laurel, likely because Tom's warnings to him about her have been erased along with everything else. Mr. Piper returns, a gruesome caricature of Tom Lynn drawn along the lines of the rather comic Tan Coul of the original story. Polly brings that back by asking if there was ever a "giant in the supermarket," and Edna spills the beans by suggesting there was an analogous scenario that happened: someone causing ruckus that was handled by Mr. Piper and Leslie. In the midst of giving this information, Mr. Piper reacts as though preventing Edna from speaking has less to do with memory wiping than ordinary threats to provoke silence on the part of the Leroys. Finally, we learn that they all only went to Stow-on-the-Water 9 years ago--at the time of the funeral.

That last bit has something to do with Tom that I don't remember (though it's also been 9 years since the funeral, which is definitely involved), but what's interesting about the incident at the supermarket is that it makes Leslie into the trainee-hero figure--the analogy to Polly. Leslie has already been a mirror to Tom and Seb, but I'm not sure if there has been an instance already of him being conflated with Polly: except for the fact that they are both being "used" by older people they're half in love with for said older people's gain.

But at last Polly has found some confirmation that her memories are true and has some useful information to return home with. This part operates largely as the quest part of her story and recalls the typical hero's journey of traveling in search of allies and collecting items (information, mostly, at this stage) to find the sought treasure.

[bchanslvr]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐞

      pairing - Draco X Harry, and Draco/Astoria will be mentioned

      summary - Just some after the war Drarry with some angst and fluff.

      warnings - none :)

      words - 2, 568

      side-note - The beginning might seem a bit boring but I swear the further you read the more interesting it gets :>

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was yet another boring day at work in the ministry. Harry was the head Auror along with his assistant Jade. She was helpful and helped Harry a lot. Even outside of work. So much so that most people thought they were dating. But they always responded with ' He's like a brother to me ' or ' She has a boyfriend ' whenever they asked them about it.

On the other side of him was Draco Malfoy. The head of the bank ministry. After the war, he had married Astoria and found himself a decent job to support them. Harry had dated Ginny for a while after the war till they broke up because they knew that the chemistry they had before wasn't working.

Harry and Draco would see each other almost every Fridays or Saturdays. Fridays were for work and or meetings. As Saturdays were for catching up or getting tea. And in the weekdays (excluding Friday) a quick nod or a smile, or a simple 'Good Morning' was always visible between the two.

The Golden Trio and the Bronze Trio had made up after the war and were good friends now.  But only Hermione and Ron knew about Harry's silly crush on Malfoy. And they’d tease him about it all the time.

He was devastated when he found out that Draco had married Astoria and planned on starting a family with her soon.

Many people thought that Harry would marry Ginny and have children with her but due to certain circumstances that didn’t work out.  

Harry tried so hard to move on but he was helpless. He tried dating others to keep his mind away from Malfoy but he couldn’t. Because every time he was reminded of soft blonde hair, crystal grey eyes, expensive cologne, and snarky comments. And it was especially difficult to keep these emotions when they met up almost every day.

Speaking of meeting up, today was a Saturday which means he'd get to hang out with Draco.

Harry was in his room in Grimmauld place getting ready for a nice evening at a nearby cafe with Draco.

It was the middle of summer meaning it was very hot in London. Harry was wearing a white button-up t-shirt underneath a plain dark navy blue jumper with beige pants, white socks, and checkered Vans shoes. After he left his house and was halfway there, he realized it was actually quite windy today despite the scorching sun blazing down on the streets. ‘Maybe I should have brought a jacket’ he thought as he crossed the street to the cafe,

The thought immediately disappearing once he found Draco sitting there in one of the corners drinking coffee. He made his way over to Draco and sat on the opposite of him.

Draco was wearing a dark blue shirt, tucked into some black jeans with black dress shoes, and he looked extremely hot just sitting there and sipping his coffee looking around like he had no care in the world. Harry tried his best to not blush when he saw Draco starting him discreetly as if he was trying to see what’s underneath-

Clearing his throat Harry said “Good Evening Draco”

“Good evening to you too Harry“ Draco replied as he looked out the window as if he was embarrassed.

‘Why is today so awkward?‘ Harry asked himself.

‘Is maybe today the day I should ask him?..., Who am I kidding he’s married... and I think even if he’s wasn’t he wouldn't like me that way, plus I think he doesn’t even like guys and-‘

He was shook away from his thoughts as a waitress pulled up next to him to ask his order. Harry ordered a medium hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, to reduce the amount of coffee he usually drinks at work.

After she left, Harry took another minute to stare at the man in front of him only to realize he was already being stared at.

A light tint of pink almost barely visible was spreading on Draco’s cheeks as he was caught in the act. A light blush also appearing on Harry’s cheeks as he realized that Draco was staring at him.

Not wanting to accept speechlessness or defeat Draco asked "So... um, How are you, Harry?"

‘Wow Draco, so smooth‘ He told himself as he waited for Harry’s answer.

"Ummm, ya I’m good, h-how is everything going on with you?" Harry strutted as he blushed more.

"Pretty good. My team is working on a somewhat difficult project but they’re doing a good job and Astoria's job is also going great"

"Oh..." said Harry sipping his chocolate trying not to sound as if his heart didn’t break from the inside.

"Are you okay Harry?” Draco asked, concerned slightly at how Harry suddenly became quiet.

"Yeah I'm fine...," Harry lied.

Another minute of silence passed as both took sips out of their drinks and occasionally stopped to look at each other for a brief second without letting the other know.

It was too awkward for Draco to handle so as a distraction from the silence Draco asked “So, umm, h-have you found a boyfriend or a girlfriend yet?”

"No, not yet..." replied Harry.

Harry was openly bi seeing nothing wrong with hiding it. And let’s just say Draco and Cedric might have been his bi awakening in his school years.

Almost everyone he knew were dating. Ron and Hermione, Pansy and Blaise, Ginny and Luna, Dean and Seamus, Jade and Zach, and lastly Draco and Astoria...

He was the only single one(seeming to never be consistent with keeping a partner because they always reminded him of Draco).

Everyone would always ask Harry if he had anyone in mind because they hated seeing Harry being lonely while everyone had a significant other. But he’d always reply with a no. But the truth is, he did have someone in mind but they already had someone.

"You should find someone Harry...," said Draco feeling sympathy for the man in front of him.

"Yes, I know..."

There was a long silence once more but it wasn’t like earlier when it was awkward. It was sort of comforting, yet kind of lonely.

"I think I should leave...," called Harry as he began to rise from his seat

"No don't!"

Draco held out his hand to Harry, to keep him there. They both blushed at the sudden contact.

"Okay... So, how is everything going on with umm... Astoria?" asked Harry trying to change the subject.

"Great. She's very kind and understanding."

"Oh...," Harry tried to hold back a tear as he thought about how Draco was already happy with someone else.

‘You know what. Fuck it.‘ thought Harry.

‘If now isn’t the time to ask him then there is no other‘

"D-Draco c-could you come with me somewhere?" Harry asked keeping his head down in case he got rejected.

"Okay," Draco replied as curiosity got the best of him.

It seemed like the right thing to say because Harry’s face lit up with a small smile.

Harry practically almost begged(not really) the waitress to come collect their drinks and for them to pay so they could get out of the shop sooner.

Once sorting out that mess, Harry dragged Draco out of the shop.

“So, where are we going?”

“Well, that’s a surprise. Follow me!“ said Harry and he started running without a warning making Draco follow him to wherever he was taking him.

Draco followed Harry through alleys, shops, doors, tunnels, almost all the way to the other side of the village.

‘How in Merlin is he still so energetic and fast,‘ Draco wondered as he ran and ran, following behind Harry.

Draco was getting tired, and so was Harry as he started slowing down near the end of their run.

Draco closed his eyes for a second to catch his breathing and when he opened them back up, Harry was standing there, right in front of him.

“Well?“

Harry simply just smiled before taking Draco’s hands with his own and intertwining them.

Draco inhaled sharply, Harry’s hands were so soft and warm. They were like a warm blanket that could protect you from all the horrors of the world as long as you're with them.

Harry was swinging their hands slightly as he walked them both through a small opening near a wall.

“We’re almost there,“ said Harry. Draco jumped slightly at Harry’s voice. He had been so caught up with holding Harry’s hands, that he nearly forgot they were going somewhere.

They stepped through the opening and-

Draco gasped loudly, shock written on his entire face.

A huge green meadow was flowing through his feet, it filled with all kinds of flowers, and fireflies dancing about. The sky now dark with ink, shining brightly of crystals, the moon electing an ethereal glow down onto the lands. A small tree-house was visible among the distance of the hundreds of trees littering the area as a barrier. This place looked like an area from a fantasy book. So mesmerizing, yet so unreal.

"It’s a really pretty place isn't it Draco?" asked Harry as he started up at the sky watching the stars flicker.

"Yes, it really is," Draco said in awe.

“How did you find this place?,“ questioned Draco as he continued to look around.

Harry laughed a small bitter laugh before saying something that broke Draco’s heart, “Sirius, my godfather, he showed this place, before you know...”

“He said this was a place that he used to hangout lot with my father and Remus, and Peter...,“ Harry’s eyes were now glazed, looking at the sky as if his parents and godfather would just magically appear before his eyes and tell him that everything was not real and that they were actually there.

Draco saw as Harry deep breath before closing his eyes and opening them back again to look at him with a look of pure love and admiration making Draco heart ache.

He squeezed Harry’s hands softly before asking him, "Why did you bring me here? Not that I’m complaining,” Draco chuckled “I feel honored to be here”

"Umm... Well... I wanted to tell y-you something...," strutted Harry, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Well what is it?," Draco asked.

He turned around to face Harry who's face was red and looking at the ground as if he was a small child, cowering in fear. Concerned he lifted Harry's chin so he was looking at him. Draco couldn't help but stare at those gorgeous green eyes he’s dreamed about, the green in his eyes looking like little galaxies. Harry stared right back at the sparkling grey ones, the grey eyes he’s seen so many times. They didn't know how but their faces were mere inches away from each other when they snapped back into reality.

Harry took a deep breath before building up some courage to say, "Draco... I-I like you..."

"Y-you like me?..." asked Draco, shock once more written on his face. He questioned internally if he was hearing this correctly or if this was his imagination.

"Yes, you. I’ve liked you a lot ever since third year. I can't keep my feelings for you hidden anymore Draco. It killed me when I found out you married Astoria. I tried to keep my mind away from you by dating others but I couldn't because they could never be like you. I’ll understand if you don’t like me or don’t want to be my friend anymore. I have to express my feelings for you now, or it’s never."

"Oh, Harry... I-I like you too, ever since we met,” now it was Harry’s turn to be shocked. ‘Draco’s joking, right? He doesn’t really love me right? right?,’ Harry questioned.

“I'm really sorry Harry, I never meant to hurt you. I’ve liked you a lot Harry, so much! And I know I never really expressed any of it during the war or school you know... I’m really sorry Harry! I really am and I never even wanted to marry Astoria! Yes, she’s really amazing and all a pure-blood man could ask for but... I want you. The only reason I married her was because my father forced me to so we can continue the bloodline. We only pretend to like each other Harry, and we’ve never even touched each other other than the kiss at the wedding at some kisses here and there for paparazzi. "

"Your lying! I know you are! You’d never like me!”

“S-she's prettier than me, and she’s so much more kinder and nicer than me, and s-she’s... I’m nothing like her and-

"Shut up Harry! You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are! Your eyes look like emeralds, so fucking beautiful and mesmerizing. You're so kind and nice to everyone. You've saved so many people! Hell, you sacrificed yourself for the whole wizarding world! YOU defeated the dark lord Harry! You... You even gave me a second chance..."

Harry blushed at the compliment given by Draco. They were still staring at each other their faces almost pressing. Draco was looking down. Harry couldn't stand Draco like this.

One of his favorite things about Draco is how he can take care of himself without needing other people’s help. He knew that if he was Draco’s boyfriend, he didn’t have to take care of anything. He was tired of taking care of others, he wanted others to take care of him. And here he was Draco, who would do that for him. Take care of him, love him, and treat him like an equal human being instead of Harry Potter. He knew that Draco liked him because of his personality and not for who he was. That’s why he loved him so much.

He lifted up Draco’s chin and kissed him, full on the lips. Draco was shocked but kissed him back. He’s been waiting for this moment for so long, he wasn’t going to end it here. Not ever.

His hands traveled down Harry's back down to his waist holding him there not letting him go anywhere for the last time. Harry's hands were on Draco's neck and his hair holding him. Draco was his and his only from now on.

It was nothing like the kisses they had with Ginny or Astoria. It could never compare. This wasn’t just any kiss, it was the kiss.

There wasn’t any sympathy or pity or pain, no. It was filled with pure love, adoration, and passion for one another. He didn’t want to change any of this, and it wasn’t ever going to.

They pulled apart for air, their foreheads resting on one another, eyes closed in bliss and contentment. They looked into each others eyes and smiled. A true smile, no sneers, no smirks, a true genuine smile.

Tears were running down Harry's face. He had finally gotten the Happy Ending he wanted.

They shared a brief kiss before they sat down on the grass, Harry's head on Draco's lap staring at the now fully sparkling, crystal sky. Draco stroked Harry's hair grinning from ear to ear. He was finally happy.

“Harry?“

“Yes?“

“Will you be my boyfriend?“ Draco asked as he looked down at those green eyes that had made him fall in love.

“Of course,“ Harry replied staring at his grey eyes that haunted him wherever he went.

"I love you Draco"

"I love you too Harry"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hello everyone! I hope your having a wonderful day or if your going to sleep then have a wonderful night! I was in the mood to write and I cooked this baby up and I don’t know how to feel about this. I haven’t written in a while so sorry if this is a little all over the place, and a little crappy. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this! 

And now I’m going to tag two of my favorite people so they can criticize this:

@choke-me-pansy and @dearhogwarts

[erin-bo-berin]

Dirty Little Secret

MASTERLIST

New fic time! This was heavily inspired by the interrogation scene from Date Night and Cat in general, except in this world Cat Adams and the network of hit men from the show doesn’t exist. The reader is just like a Cat Adams though and obviously she’s a bit more of a downplayed villain than Cat, but it’s the same kind of idea. You guys will understand when you start reading. Enjoy all the Spencer feels you will probably get from this because I sure got enough just from writing this.

Special thank you to @multifandommandy​ as well for inspiration and ideas that I used in this :)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (Smut)

Word Count: 3,341

Your hands were behind your back, handcuffed together. A strong hand gripped the top of your arm as the elevator ascended the floors of the FBI headquarters in Quantico.

A normal person would’ve been scared out of their mind at this point.

You?

Well, you were different than most people.

The elevator dinged, coming to an abrupt stop, announcing the arrival of your designated floor.

The crystal clear metal doors slid open, revealing a small group of people standing in the hallway. Clearly, they were expecting your arrival. You didn’t expect anything less.

The agent who’d brought you in stepped forward out of the elevator with you, the grip on his hand not easing any.

“Take it easy, Grandpa, I bruise easily.”

You shot the gray haired agent a withering glare before returning your gaze to the group of people. The majority of them looked at you with contempt, but you noticed something peculiar in the look of the agent who’d initially arrested you.

Interesting, you thought.

His lips were pursed as his gaze flickered down your frame before flitting up to your face again. He pressed his lips together before pulling them inward, his eyes quickly darting away.

Well that could definitely come in handy.

•

You sighed impatiently as you were seated in the interrogation room, your handcuffs being unfastened. It was a small victory as the chains clasped around your waist and ankles were cuffed to a metal bar of the table.

“Is this really necessary?” you scoffed, “It’s not like I’m here to do bodily harm to any of you.”

“You killed four men, Y/N,” Agent Grandpa said, “You really think we’re going to let you parade around here like we invited you here to have brunch?”

“Brunch sounds good,” you tilted your head, “I could go for some bacon.”

He ignored your comment and kept staring at you. You rolled your eyes in response.

“I only killed them ‘cause it was part of my contract. No big deal.”

You had been a new addition to a group of assassins that operated through the dark web. It was a small organization, but it was still a hidden one. Law enforcement wasn’t even aware of the group’s existence until just recently.

There were several different assassins in the group, most of which you’d met. Each had their own specialty and their own clientele. There was one who had a knack for poison, another who was more hands on with their kills—strangulation seemed to be their kink, another that was nicknamed “The Framer”. He could make any of his hits look like someone else did it, usually a close friend or family member. He was one who really believed in his research.

Your speciality was infidelity and abuse, mainly abuse. You were surprised how many women turned to a hit man to kill their abusive husband instead of law enforcement. One of your kills had been a jaded wife of a politician who was tired of dealing with her husband’s plethora of affairs.

So basically, your speciality was assholes who deserved to die.

“You’re aware that murder is still a crime, right?”

You tapped your fingers on the table.

“I thought we were here to interview me for more information on the group? Not to talk about me.”

“Okay, so talk.”

“Nuh-uh. I’d like to talk to Dr. Reid,” you smirked.

He raised one of his thick eyebrows at you, but didn’t say anything in response. He stood for a moment before turning and leaving the room, the door closing behind him.

Now the fun could really begin.

•

You were examining your nails when the door opened again and with it came Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I heard you’d only talk to me. Why?”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his navy suit pants. He stood in front of the table, looking down at you.

“Why don’t you sit down? Make yourself comfortable. It might be a while,” you grinned slyly, tapping your temple with your finger, “You know. Lots of information up here in the noggin to share.”

He pulled out the chair, sitting down in it.

“I’ve got a secret for you,” you said.

“Oh? I have a secret for you too. You’re going away for possibly 25 years to life unless you help us with this case.”

“Isn’t that why I’m here?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m here to help, but I’d like to do it on my terms.”

You rested your chin in your hand, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah? What are your terms?”

“One, for every few questions you ask I get to ask a question of my own.”

“Why would you-”

You held up a hand, stopping him.

“Ah, I’m not done. Two, you take these chains off me. I’m not gonna hurt you or any of the federal agents I’m sure that are watching. Besides, I’m getting a cramp.”

He watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“Three. If I give you everything you need, you’ll have my sentence reduced to ten years, not fifteen.”

“Give me a minute.”

He stood, heading to the door.

“Yes, go confer with the other six little ducklings. I’ll just be waiting here,” you called.

It could’ve been half an hour later, you had no idea, but he finally returned. A thick file was in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. It wasn’t until he came towards your side that you noticed he had the key to your prison chains in his hand.

He bent down at your side, unlocking your restraints. You bit your lip gently, watching him. When he looked up, his face wasn’t far from yours.

“Thank you.” Your voice was a breathy whisper and he quickly cleared his throat, standing back up.

“Whew, I thought I was never going to get blood flowing back into my leg,” you said, stretching it out and wiggling it.

He returned to his seat in front of you, opening the file. You turned in your seat to face him.

“Then again I bet you know all about blood flowing to certain areas.”

It was no surprise when he disregarded your comment and started asking questions.

“I’ll go easy on you to start with, how many assassins were in the group?”

“What a shame,” you tutted, “I’d rather you be rough with me.”

“If you’re just here to waste my time, then we can call this whole thing off,” Spencer threatened.

You studied him for a moment.

“Eight,” you finally answered, “That I know of.”

“And you met them all?”

“Those eight, yes.”

“What did they specialize in?”

You yawned, already bored with this tedious process.

You chewed on your lip, pretending to be in deep thought before counting off a few on your fingers.

“Number six did her own thing, but she dealt mainly with drugs. Seven liked to choke and we aren’t talking about some good BDSM play either.”

You smirked as a flush spread across the good doctor’s cheeks. He was so easy to read.

“Eight liked poison. I don’t know their clientele.”

“So what-”

You cut him off yet again.

“I believe it’s my turn to ask a question now.”

He sat back in the chair, crossing his arms, clearly amused.

“Go ahead.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” you asked casually.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this.”

“Hmm,” you let it slide without an answer, “I’m sure it will before this interview is over.”

“So when did you join the group, Y/N?”

“A few months ago, around the end of January.”

“You killed a politician and three average husbands. We found out that Johnny Perez and Thomas Mitchell were abusive to their wives. Benjamin Wood abused both his wife and his daughter. Senator Nathan Pearson had many mistresses and affairs. Is that why you killed them?”

“Wouldn’t you?” you shot back.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine,” you retorted, smirking.

He decided to switch tactics.

“Did any of the others ever work together?”

“Not that I know of.”

You crossed your legs, leaning closer to him across the table.

“You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” you questioned.

He looked up from the note he was writing, looking baffled.

“No, why?”

You hummed, “Explains a lot.”

“Is there a spot where they meet often? Somewhere we can catch the rest of them?” Spencer asked.

“It’s not exactly like we met at McDonalds for chicken nuggets and board meetings.”

You twirled a lock of your hair around your finger, watching him closely. He glared at you, his patience growing thin.

“Was there or not? I’m not here to play games.”

“Oh honey, you already are,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I said if there was, it was probably far,” you lied, “You know far away. They could get paranoid.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you were recruited, didn’t you?”

You sat back in your chair, licking your lips and smiled devilishly at him.

“Yes, Doctor,” you purred.

You could see him tense, his jaw tightening as if he was clenching his teeth.

“Are you always this tense?”

He circled back to you, focusing his questions on you.

“Why did you kill those men, Y/N?”

“Assholes like that don’t deserve to live.”

You weren’t going to deny that you did it because you had and you would again, but you weren’t going to hand them any ammunition to use against you. Being mysterious was the name of your game.

“So you were a vigilante assassin? Hired to make things right?” Spencer questioned, eyes following you as you stood from your chair.

You strolled around the table, fingers trailing along the tabletop.

“People like that deserve the bad things that happen to them, like those men. Imagine if you could right the world, one step at a time.”

“I already do that. I catch serial killers everyday. Killers like you,” he responded.

“See, I’m not like most people,” your hand rested on his shoulder, sliding ever so slightly across it.

“I don’t enjoy killing. I don’t get pleasure from it.”

“Don’t you?” 

He’d gone rigid under your touch. Your fingertips grazed across his back as you leaned down and over his shoulder from behind him. Your hand slid down the front of his dress shirt, across his chest.

“I get pleasure from other things, Spencer,” you whispered lowly in his ear.

You pulled back, returning to your seat, but you didn’t miss the small shiver he’d tried to repress.

“I’m not answering any more questions until you answer some of mine.” 

You crossed your arms on the table, leaning forward on them.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because of that secret I mentioned earlier. Remember that? I know you better than you think I do, Doctor.”

Your voice dripped with seduction and you knew it was getting to him. You could see just how much you were getting under his skin and frankly, it pleased you greatly.

“Is that so?”

He cocked his head, challenging you, trying to call your bluff.

But you weren’t bluffing.

“I’m good at reading men and their signals. I mean,” you shrugged with one shoulder, “A girl has to be in this line of work.”

“Uh huh,” he goaded you.

“I know your dirty little secret,” you faux whispered, leaning closer towards him.

His face hardened in an attempt to not give any of his true emotions away.

“And what would that be?”

“I know you fantasize about me, Dr. Reid.”

Your words hit a nerve. Even though his face showed no change in expression, the slight widening of his eyes gave him away. If you weren’t so good at analyzing, you probably would’ve missed the small movement all together.

“You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but I didn’t think you were delusional.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you chuckled dryly, “I’m not answering any more questions until you admit you’ve had dirty thoughts about me.”

“Then we’ll be here for a long time.”

“Spencer, please. I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’m good at telling when a man is attracted towards a woman. Tell me,” you smirked, scraping your teeth across your bottom lip, “Do you touch yourself while having those thoughts of me?”

He stood, gathering the file haphazardly.

“If you’re just going to waste the FBI’s time, then this interview is over.”

“What, is your ego bruised because I don’t get off to you? Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of fantasies myself. They’re pretty sexy, if I do say so myself, but nothing beats the real thing,” your eyes moved up his body, “If you know what I mean.”

He was out the door mere seconds after your last word was spoken. 

You had him just where you wanted him.

•

“What is she on about?”

Thankfully the observing audience had dwindled down to just Rossi, but Spencer brushed past him, shaking his head.

“Ignore her. She’s full of it.”

He dropped the file on the first desk he saw, walking out the door into the hallway. 

He knew he had to get out of there quickly because the room was suddenly way too warm. He was angry. Angry and unfortunately aroused.

He practically ran into the first available empty room, closing the door behind him. He only needed a few minutes to clear his head before he finished this interview. He leaned against the closed door, stomach rolling in his desire. He swore, the tightening in his pants that much more visible. He knew the moment he felt the tingling in the pit of his stomach that he had to make a quick escape.

Y/N’s words rang in his ears as he closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

I’ve had my fair share of fantasies myself.

They’re pretty sexy if I do say so myself.

The thought of her getting off to him did nothing to help his erection and he groaned. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own and was palming the bulge, making him whimper slightly.

“Fuck it.”

•

The door swung open to the interrogation room with a bang causing you to jump.

“I got rid of the other agents, so it’s just you and me now, no one watching.”

You raised your eyebrow, intrigued.

“How did you know?” Spencer practically growled.

“Know what?” 

He yanked you up roughly by your arm, making you stand to face him.

“How did you know that all I want to do is slam you against this wall and fuck you as hard as I can?” 

Your mouth went dry, all bravado you’d had before suddenly missing. Heat pooled in your stomach. If you could tear off your clothes right now and let him have his way with you, you would.

He didn’t let you answer because he did just as he said he wanted to.

Your back hit the wall roughly, his lips meeting yours haphazardly. His kisses were wild and filled with all the frustration he held against you, emotionally and sexually.

His hands were that much larger against your hips, pulling them closer to him so you could feel his arousal against you. You moaned into the kiss in response.

His fingers threaded in your hair, gripping it, his tongue swirling with yours. He pulled back just the slightest bit, his teeth scraping your bottom lip.

“Fuck, I hate admitting just how wild you’ve driven me,” he groaned, undoing his pants.

You wiggled your hips slightly, trying to push your pants down along with your underwear as he sucked roughly on your neck, his hands massaging your boobs through your shirt. You were pretty sure he could make you cum before he was even inside you.

Barely registering your struggles, one hand yanked down the bottom half of your clothes, kicking them aside with his feet while his mouth still explored yours.

Hooking his hands under the back of your thighs, he hoisted you up, holding you against the wall. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you, not giving you any warning.

You moaned loudly. The feeling was better than anything you’d ever fantasized. Your hips thrust outward from the wall to meet with him causing him to growl. You could probably spontaneously combust at this point. You never could have imagined Dr. Spencer Reid had such a sexy, dominant side. If he wanted to fuck you against this wall until you were raw, you’d let him and probably still beg for more.

“Ohhh my god, yes,” you moaned, your head knocking against the wall as he did magical things to you.

His body moved roughly against yours, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, his grunts and groans giving you tingles. You would’ve tried to be witty right about now, but you discovered your brain was nothing but static. Words couldn’t and wouldn’t come.

“You moan this loud for me when you touch yourself?” he grunted, his rhythm purposely slowing down to a snail’s pace.

You were quite amazed that he managed to have enough self control to tease you.

“No,” you whimpered, trying to pull his hips back towards you.

His hands pushed your hips back against the wall firmly, further separating the two of you.

“What’s that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“No, I didn’t. Spencer, please.”

It was almost torture being so close to falling apart and having him stop almost completely. His hand touched your cheek, his thumb moving over your lips, tugging your bottom lip down just a bit before his lips covered yours again. His hips thrust forward against yours once more, hitting such deep spots that your legs were shaking.

He gritted his teeth as he pulled away, clenching them.

“Oh god, it’s so much better than I even imagined,” he gritted out, pulling out of you slowly, to thrust back in harder.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” you encouraged, your back arching, pressing your chest against his.

Your hand tangled in his curls, your moans coming closer together.

“Make me cum, Dr. Reid,” you requested breathlessly.

His fingers expertly reached down to add to your pleasure, fully intending to rock your world. 

Your breaths came in more erratic spurts, mixed with your moans as you came apart, tensing around him.

He came hard too, his groans of pleasure ripped from his throat as his head fell back roughly against the door.

It took a moment for Spencer’s surroundings to come back in focus when he opened his eyes, peering down at the mess he’d made all over his hand. He felt his whole face flush when he realized what had just happened. 

He grabbed a tissue off the table, cleaning up his mess and getting resituated, zipping up his pants properly, buttoning them once again.

He cursed himself for the fact he’d just gotten off to her. Even worse, an extremely erotic fantasy of her. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it. 

“Dammit,” he mumbled.

So, it wasn’t his finest moment. But at least he felt less tense and more relaxed now.

He picked up the file on his way back in to finish his interview. There she was waiting, fingernails tapping against the table.

•

You saw right through him because the moment he walked through the door again a grin slowly spread across your face. His cheeks were still flushed and a slight sheen of sweat coated his forehead. 

Unless he’d just sprinted to and from the nearest coffee shop, you had a good idea what he’d just been up to.

You didn’t say anything while he sat back down in front of you again, opening the file and looking up at you. You motioned him closer with a crook of your finger so he could hear your next words. He obeyed and leaned in close.

“Your dirty little secret is safe with me.”

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[marysfoxmask]

Have you done The Misselthwaite Archives webseries? It's obviously one of the looser adaptations, but I thought it was really well done. Love to hear your thoughts on it!

my first ask!!! i’m so excited!! thank you, anon! i love asks, btw, and would love for people to continue to send them!

i actually watched the misselthwaite archives as it was coming out! every wednesday, i watched the newest episode after coming home from school. it was the highlight of my week!

i actually rewatched a good chunk of episodes the other night. it dredges up a lot of nostalgia for me in a bittersweet way. i appreciate the series a lot, and i think everyone involved did a great job, but it’s the way the creators approach adapting the source material that i find to be a little off the mark.

this is mainly because i think something is inevitably lost when bringing the secret garden into modern day (which was, back then, good old 2015). i think, if i were trying to adapt the book into a modern setting, i’d minimize the modern day trappings as much as possible; references to modern pop culture like parks and recreation and beyoncé, like misselarch employs, are fleetingly fun, but i think they date the material too much. they also feel too kitschy and cute, in my opinion. that’s my opinion of a lot of the misselthwaite archives’ adaptation choices—they’re cute, but don’t feel like they do justice to the material. 

i feel making mary a snarky, bitter teenager seems like a good idea at first, but i think it’s ultimately a misrepresentation. in the original novel, she’s prickly and prone to insulting others, sure, but she’s also sullen, withdrawn, and socially awkward—her inability to connect with others is derived from the lack of positive social interaction she had since she was born. she’s emotionally stunted, which mary in the misselthwaite archives doesn’t communicate at all in her video diaries to dr. burnett (which is a very nice homage, i will admit). 

on the contrary, teen!mary is charismatic, with a biting wit; she’s had friends in the past, but they only cared for her parents’ money. ironically, her friendship with declan seems almost to benefit him more in terms of social development than it does her. her petty cruelty seems more the product of watching mean girls one too many times than any deep-rooted emotional trauma. though there are gestures made to indicate that she feels badly about her celebrity parents’ deaths, i never found them particularly convincing. i felt her vulnerability as an orphan, as a young woman with no prospects, with no real friends—as she is at the the beginning of the story—never came through properly. it felt like the writers wanted to modernize mary’s contrariness in a way, metamorphosing it into a more palatable 21st-century diagnosis: jaded teenager syndrome. 

which is cute, but not very book-accurate, i feel. it colors the rest of her journey if she hasn’t been socially deprived like she is in the novel. i can’t imagine the mary of the misselthwaite archives having a profound revelation about how much nicer people look when they smile, for instance. as a result, her journey feels a lot less interesting to me.

i personally feel mary should have been prickly, of course, and sometimes aggressively mean, but more unwilling to talk about her feelings than anything—more emotionally numb after years of neglect, more uninterested in nearly everything. she shrugs when spoken to, looks eternally glum, glares at the pitying glances of sarah medlock. it’s only with the influence of the characters in the story that she’s coaxed into opening up and begins to bloom.

i really liked sarah medlock’s characterization, as well as uncle art’s and phoebe’s! i love that aunt sarah is presented as having positive intentions from the get-go, as i’ve always hated her vilification in other adaptations. i also really like the portrayal of declan—i like the idea of him being a bit of a social misfit.

with callie, i really enjoy her actress’s portrayal—she’s properly hysterical and catty! but i feel like turning colin into a girl doesn’t add anything to the story, and removes some of the narrative tension that comes with mary coming into contact with a member of the opposite sex that mirrors her in terms of upbringing and attitude. if anything, i feel it downplays the tension of their budding friendship, as the subconscious assumption that people are more likely to become friends people of the same sex is one that the audience undoubtedly has. 

i don’t particularly like callie being steeped in pop culture, either, though it makes sense in a modern setting, technically. in the source material, though, colin is surrounded by interesting things to engage with, but he’s disinterested in all those things when mary stumbles across him. he’s more interested in thinking about his illness. i think having callie be immersed in pop culture as a way to entertain herself indicates a level of engagement with the world that colin is completely shut off from, which definitely affects his characterization. a version of colin that is invested in things enough to buy merchandise of them, etc. is a version of colin who is already significantly more “alive” than his book counterpart from the beginning. a more accurate idea of communicating colin’s isolation, i feel, would have callie being too cynical and emotionally stunted to be interested in anything, at least for very long; any media about characters going on interesting adventures only reminds her of the lackluster quality of her own life and makes her insecure, so she eschews pop culture in favor of frequent depression naps and bullying aunt sarah and phoebe. sometimes she’ll read if she’s bored, but not often, and she refuses to have lessons with phoebe unless she feels well enough to learn, leaving her education full of gaps despite her intelligence. callie, in my hypothetical adaptation, is determined to live a miserable, barren existence, much like colin. 

 anyway, it also seems that canon callie isn’t dogged by colin’s negative thoughts quite as much, and her feelings surrounding her condition feel too subdued to communicate colin’s utter maladjustment. the episode where callie “explodes” feels too muted by half! this girl should be furious, incoherent with hysteria, raging at the world for her mother’s death, stricken with self-loathing and misery! but, while callie’s actress does an amazing job with what she has, i can’t help but feel that the adaptation of her character was a bit lukewarm.

i also think giving mary and callie a history together undermines the importance of them finding each other for the first time, and gives their friendship too much of an instant leg-up from the minute mary finds her. it makes the work she has to do to befriend/reform callie feel too easy. 

not to mention, the pacing of the second half of the story, where mary finds callie to the point where she and declan plan to take her to the glade, seems way too fast. i feel there was a lot of missed potential there; they could’ve really drawn out the rockiness of mary and callie’s relationship, like mary and colin’s in the book.

i think my big problem with the misselthwaite archives is that the creators, in service of adapting it to modern times, undercuts and downplays a lot of the earnestness of the characters’ relationships that i found so charming in the book. instead of instantly loving dickon and breathlessly calling him beautiful, mary only grudgingly admits that she needs declan’s help, and any affection she has for him she keeps close to the chest. colin’s desperation for mary’s company, his screaming for her to come to him, is rendered as needy over-texting, devoid of any emotional urgency; callie seems more bored, rather than truly lonely and unable to communicate in an emotionally mature manner, like colin is. even declan is subdued in his love for nature, more shy. it makes sense for a modern adaptation not prone to the novel’s 1910s sentimentality, but i can’t help but feel that the adaptation feels dull and repressed as a result. 

i also wish we got a proper video of callie and declan meeting!

like a lot of adaptations, i think the pacing is off; more time should be spent on ironing out mary and callie’s relationship, more time should be spent in the garden, helping callie bloom. the “eye of the tiger” bit was cute, but gah, colin walking took months and months of practice, and to see all that development be reduced to a short little montage feels disheartening. i’d love to see at least 10 episodes of the teens just chilling in the glade, talking about their childhood traumas in more detail, having little conflicts among each other, planting flowers and setting up decorations...for a series with such short installments, that kind of episodic structure would be perfect. maybe they could create a subplot where mary suggests callie go to her high school and she has to work that out with medlock and that becomes a whole character-building thing, or she has a conflict with basil, or callie properly hashes out her negative feelings toward declan, or something. i dunno. i just wanted more.

i think the misselthwaite archives was really cute, but i feel it misses the mark on the melancholy of the original story; the glade itself is perfect, but the interpretation of mary feels too derivative of the “bratty teenager” trope to be honest to her book character, in my opinion. and i dislike pop culture references in timeless classics, even modern-day interpretations of them, lol. but i still appreciate it as an adaptation, though—it’s just so eager to translate the sentimentality into something more modern that it loses the essence of what i find so charming about the book, which is the unabashed intensity of the characters’ friendships, the extreme character development, and the scale of the emotional and social deprivation mary and colin suffered before said character development occurs.

i also wish declan had more animals around him, though obviously that can’t be helped, haha.

please send more asks, anon! i’d be happy to answer them! :)

[lady-falcon]

Just want to share my old one-shot fic, pre-canon, slight Miiko/ Lance.

All about Miiko fighting her unrequited feelings.

He must never know

Being a young princess, Miiko hated the court culture. All court etiquette - mannered gestures, fake emotions and manipulations that replace real communication. It was easy to learn it, - the main thing was to put on a mask of impenetrable indifference. Because no one should read you like an open book. No one should know your true emotions and feelings. Otherwise, you are vulnerable. Otherwise, - you are weak.

Miiko leaves the Jade Kingdom and promises herself to free all her hidden feelings; to start finally live this life and feel all the shades of emotions. Delight - means delight, not a crumpled smile and a slightly bowed head. Anger means anger, not the lowered corners of the lips and slightly frowned eyebrows.

She allows herself to feel everything...

And then she meets him...

Lance is not the one who you could come across in the crowd and forget the next moment. High growth, a confident gait, a calm look – seems all in him was created to attract attention. Just a second of a side look is enough for Miiko to mention him among the crowd of the Guard’s newcomers in the HQ hall. Something immediately clicks in the kitsune’s head, starts a run of sparkles throughout her body, as if Lance’s image had been printed from birth somewhere in the depths of her consciousness, and now appeared in flesh and blood. Otherwise, how to explain that his features seem so familiar, so dear and beloved at a glance?

Miiko does not remember what happened next. Maybe she's just froze in the middle of the main hall, not taking her eyes off Lance? She remembers only a light intoxicating dizziness; she remembers how her chest filled with sweet pain; how everything inside her soul exploded and blossomed. She found herself wanting to do something immediately ... something ... something - it doesn’t matter what, - to run. To fly. To dance.

But Miiko does nothing but stares at Lance, and he, feeling the weight of someone's gaze, turns his head. Blood rushes to Miiko's face, and she freezes breathless.

But he only glides over the kitsune with an indifferent look, not even distinguishing her from the interior details, from all the crowd of scurrying guardians. And at the same moment, Miiko realizes that the feelings flared up in her chest are a direct road to the Calvary. Her feelings will make her defenseless before his indifference. And if she let herself feels this way, she will be like a bird pushed on a stone wall - left in pieces and puddles.. And therefore ...

He must never know...

They have to communicate. Of course purely on business: reports, available missions. But still they have to communicate, yet Miiko would prefer never speak to him. Only to watch him from afar; to enjoy him as a piece of art, as something unreal and unreachable ... Actually, there is no difference. You have no right to even touch an art exhibit, just as you have no right to approach someone who does not want it. And Lance doesn't make a single hint that he wants. Even the that he simply doesn't mind. Therefore, every day Miiko is more and more afraid to reveal her feelings with a single look or a sudden careless word.

All court tricks float in her memory, learned movements and phrases replace the natural and spontaneous. Alive and real with others, next to Lance Miiko is a mixture of impenetrable armor and ice. She always says little, speaks matter-of-fact. Probably, Lance considers her arrogant or a stupid girl who becomes conceited, barely received the role of Younuki's right hand. So it be. Let him believe that she is arrogant and conceited, - anything! Because the truth ...

He must never know.

* * *

It's hot in the yard. Stuffy. But noone cancel the trainings. Miiko removes the damp hair from her forehead and joins the crowd of unfortunate comrades who look at Jamon with mournful eyes, begging for a break. The ogre growls something, but still gives a respite. Five minutes.

Newcomers go to the benches where they had thrown their stuff. Miiko fishes out a flask of water from her bag, but does not even have time to take a sip, as she sees Lance approaching the inner yard. She really thought that it could not get any hotter anymore.

In vain.

“The Oracle is just checking strength of your soul,” she tells herself, going to the farthest bench.

“You're too sour for someone who has won five sparrings in a row,” tells her Lina - a pretty brownie from the Light Guard.

“I'm just focused,” answers Miiko, not even looking toward the reasons for her bad mood.

"What are you girls whispering about?", Celine, dryad from the Shadow Guard, joins their conversation. “You are discussing guys, aren't you?”

"Nothing of the kind!", Miiko flashes instantly. “There's noone to discuss ...” she declares, before anyone has time to think that a serious kitsune like her can basically think of some guy. Not in this life! Miiko demonstratively shows that she is above such thoughts; that in her life she is only interested in three things: study, trainings, the Guard. And that’s all.

"Well, but at least do you like someone?", Celine asks with enthusiasm.

“No,” kitsune shrugs. "Nobody". Her answer is final, not subject to appeal. Miiko is learning this tone in order become a good leader one day. And now this skill is very useful.

The trainings resumes. Miiko begins to lose, because she spends all her will and all her concentration to avoid watching at Lance who stands relaxed near Jamon, and tells ogre some comments. She doesn’t sure what would hit her more — seeing Lance watching her, or seeing him looking at another girl with interest? She is afraid to lose control and to end up the trainings sobbing hopelessly. And her feelings will be revealed.

But he must never know.

“Lance is probably the prettiest of all the guys here,” Lina continues the theme, shoving Miiko with her elbow when the training ends and everyone slowly leaves the yard.

‘You say he is just "pretty"?!’ Miiko wants to exclaim. But instead, she takes a deep breath and responds with restraint.

“Not at all,” kitsune says with an ostentatious indifference, that make her teeth shake. "I see nothing special in him. He's too ... rustic. His voice is sharp. He is not well-educated and rude". She is ready to list all his flaws for hours. The flaws which she so diligently has sought in him to reduce the degree of her feelings... But each time she found his new flaw, she falls in love with Lance even more.

The girls nod and admit that in some way Miiko is right, of course ... But she is too picky and actually she needs to set the bar lower if she doesn't want to stay alone for the rest of her life. And then they continue chatting, no longer involving kitsune in their conversation. Miiko sighs with relief. She understands she need to be silent so as not to reveal her true attitude.

But Miiko can’t avoid talks at all. And she begins to deliberately speak badly about Lance. Probably some rumors reach him, but she doesn’t care. The main thing is that in no case should he think she likes him. Let him consider her arrogant and gossip, than let him even suspect something ... Something he simply must never know.

* * *

Miiko loves how it's quiet and sunny in the library. Today she parses the Guard reports again while Lina is in the infirmary. Miiko does not mind to do some extra duties, and the abundance of work does not scare her. Working along in the library helps her to relax and focus.

Miiko almost finishes sorting out the reports when a perky laugh comes from the corridor. Kitsune recognizes the Guards' gunsmith Seddok's by this crazy gaggle. But should he really be at headquarters now? She glanced at the missions chart. Well, Seddok really went on a mission today, - the holy Oracle! - together with…

"Stop laughing already!", says a harsh voice, which Miiko will not confuse with anyone's other. “Or I will push your weapon into your throat!”

But laugh only becomes louder, and after a couple of seconds, Seddock bursts into the library, bent over in half by laughter.

"What's the matter?", Miiko asks immediately.

“We've been on a mission in the eastern forest,” - the gunsmith manages to calm down for a moment and answer, - “and Lance fell into Sitourche's nest.”

Miiko raises her eyebrows in a surprise, as if asking: “So what?”, But then Lance enters the door and she understands ‘what’.

Newborn Sitourches - little furry lumps - climbed onto the shoulders and back of the obsidian. They could be mistaken for bizarre epaulettes, if not their tiny eyes looking like black beads staring at the world from under the azure fur.

"Damn! Let go... you...!", Lance sighs desperately. Miiko understands that all the way to headquarters, he apparently tried to throw Sitourche kids off himself, but those little furry lumps only squeal, and quickly climbed back, clutching the obsidian's clothes with tiny claws.

"Do not even try!", Seddock says through a new attack of laughter, - “For the first month Sitourches live on their mother's body until they get stronger and learn how to get their own food.”

“You say they consider me ...”, Lance changes countenance, barely realizing what he managed to get involved into. “What the hell?! I'm not their mother!”, he shakes his hands with all his might one again, but little Sitourches only cling to him even tighter.

“Well, it was your snout they saw when they had barely hatched. So technically - yes, you are", - Seddok laughs away again, and Lance whether growls through his teeth, or exhales with displeasure.

Miiko holds out the gunsmith a report form, and furtively glancing at Lance, notices that as soon as Seddok is leaning over the paper, the obsidian smiles slightly and gently runs a finger along the fur of one Sitourche. Miiko bites the inner side of her cheek, afraid not just to start laughing - even to smile accidently! - and hands Lance his report form.

Having scribbled something indistinct, Seddok throws completed report form at Miiko's working table.

“That's it!”, he says happily marching to the door. "I'm going for dinner".

"Hey!", Lance shouts after him, looking up from the report and turning to the door. “Reserve a turn for me. I'll finish this quickly", he returns to the report, removing a Sitourche from his wrist.

“Don’t worry”, Seddock stops at the door and grins quite a bit. “A father with many children they will feed out of turn!”, he says, and still laughing, runs downstairs.

Miiko leans over the papers, pretends that she sorts it concentrated. But, hiding her eyes behind the bang that fell on her face, she continues watching Lance. How he squeezes the pen. How stand out burgundy abrasions on the knuckles of his neat fingers. How focused is his look. How he takes away a strand of hair that has fallen on his eyes. How he grins barely noticeably when Sitourches climb up his shoulders touching his skin with tiny claws and apparently tickling.

Miiko's heart breaks out, from how incredibly cute he is at that moment along with these fluffy lumps sitting on his shoulders. He looks so homely... so cozy. She wishes she could be with him not in a stuffy library for a report, but somewhere far from all HQ bustle, on a stack of mowed grass ... Carefully pressing her lips to his cheek. Running her hands over his shoulders and back, sometimes deliberately touching his skin with her nails, causing the same half-smiles on his lips.

Involuntarily Miiko allows a dreamy smile to linger on her lips for a second... And this ghostly smile is instantly caught by his tenacious gaze, which suddenly jumps out from behind the pages of the report, like an ambush predator. Squinting blue eyes catch her face.

"You think it’s funny?", Lance asks bending his thin eyebrow. Instantly Miiko pulls herself together.

“Not at all”, she says sternly, folding the parchments on the table in a neat pile. “You destroyed Sitourches' nest. Damaged the forest ecosystem! Now the Guards will have to send someone to mitigate the damage to El’s nature”, Miko says in a sharp voice, still not looking into Lance' eyes.

Lance doesn’t answer her anything, just bends over his report form again, apparently wanting to finish it as soon as possible. A lock of hair falls on his face. Miiko furtively bites her lips. Her hands are shaking with the desire to tuck a knocked ash-white strand behind his ear. But she can’t. It is impossible.

Lance gives her the form with a mixture of annoyance and displeasure. Let it be. The main thing is that she did not reveal herself, although she was in the balance! After all ... He must never know.

Suddenly, even for herself, Miiko begins to reprimand Lance for every little thing. Here he ticked the form in the wrong place; there, he said something wrong and in the wrong way. She is sure that is right. For no one guess her true feelings, she has to demonstrate the opposite ones... Or is she lying to herself? Or she needs this all just to get one more moment alone with him in the library silence? To feel herself in the center of his attention for those few seconds that she comments on his reports?

Once again, kitsune asks the obsidian to go upstairs.

“You mixed everything up again,” Miiko says. "You didn’t indicate the exact coordinates of your mission and set the date in the wrong column. Sorry, but I can’t accept this report".

With a sharp and hostile exhale, Lance snatches the form from her hands.

"What have I done to you?", he asks squinting.

“N-nothing,” says Miiko, scared. She can’t even understand what scared her more - how sharply the form flew out of her hands, his angry look, or... his question asked in the way like he is starting to suspect something. To suspect what he must never know.

And Lance clings to her fright, since this is the only living emotion seen on her face for all the years of their acquaintance.

“Then why the hell are you always nitpicking to me?!” he takes a menacing step forward, the annoyance in his voice breaks through all her defense and painfully hits somewhere in her solar plexus.

“It's not true,” Miiko quickly shuts the desk. Everything inside her is twisted from anxiety and efforts to not reveal it.

"Always!" Lance insists.

“I just help Yonuki Kaze to keep an order in the Guards. It’s not my fault that you are constantly breaking it." Miiko hides her eyes and wants to leave. Under Lance's hostile gaze, her emotions reach a boiling point. Her heart whines piteously, begging not to torment it anymore.

"Me?!", Lance is indignant, and in contrast with Miiko, his emotions explode. “No more than anyone in the Headquarters! But you are staring at me all the time, as if you are waiting for me to screw up ..."

His reproaches are fair, and like arrows burst into Miiko's chest and pierce her through and through.

"So what's going on?!"

“Nothing,” Miiko quickly rushes out into the hallway. “Just redo the report,” she says, not looking back.

It would seem that the conversation is over. But not for Lance. His instinct says that something is fishy here, and demands him to get to the bottom of the truth. The obsidian changes tactics.

“Did I offend you with something?” he asks, catching up Miiko in the hallway.

“No,” the kitsune walks swiftly down the corridor, but Lance keeps her from leaving. In two broad steps, he overtakes her. Miiko almost bumps into him, but stops in time and bounces back, avoiding another awkward moment between them.

“Did I hurt any of your friends?”

“No,” Miiko answers through clenched teeth, and tries to go around him, but Lance takes a step, blocking her way again.

"Then what?"

“Nothing ...” Miiko turns around as fast as she can taking another attempt to escape, but Lance reacts faster. He intercepts her just above the elbow, turning her to him again. A rough touch, but the first... and the only. And Miiko knows that for a long time she will feel his fingers on her forearm.

“Then I give a good warning”, Lance says through gritted teeth. “Stay the hell away from me ...” This situation where he completely doesn't understand what is going on brought him to a boil.

What is going on in his head at this moment? Miiko is ready to sell her soul to a demon just to find it out ... It seems to her that if she looks into his eyes, she will understand everything. But she can’t. She does not dare to raise her head, because too many feelings are reflected in her eyes at that moment. The feelings that he will not understand... which will piss him off even more. So... he must never know.

"I ...", Miiko is trying to utter something intelligible... but at last she pulls herself together in a second, and her face freezes in a militant expression. “None of your business,” kitsune replies sharply. “If you think that I'm wrong, or I’m exceeding my authority - go talk to Yonuki Kase,” she says, tearing her hand out.

“What do you take me for?”, Lance snorts irritably. “I’m not going to disturb the old man because of ...” he stops. Takes deep a breath to finish the sentence, but says nothing.

"Because of whom?", Miiko continues to advance, wanting to get to the end and dot all the points. If the end of his phrase is – ‘because of an arrogant girl’, - or – ‘because of a worthless upstart’, she wants to hear it. Hear from him. She needs him to say these words her in person, and then her torment will end. Sentence and quick death is better than continuous boiling on a slow fire of her unrequited feelings and phantom hopes. Now she looks up at him and in her eyes - she is sure - a plea for pardon and quick reprisal.

But Lance is silent. He looks at her, and then takes a step back, turns around and quickly leaves the corridor. He has already made his conclusions, and the only Oracle knows what's in his head now! Let it be... Let him consider her an idiot, an arrogant upstart, a hypocrite ... Yes, anyone! – but does not feel her weakness in front of his only smile. He must never know.

Lance apparently decides simply to ignore Miiko as an annoying interior detail. Not to pay attention. And it all ends.... more precisely, it loops in a circle within the framework of the Guards subordination and dry, formalized words. And this framework is so tight that there is no place for unnecessary fantasies, thoughts and feelings. Although Miiko is still tense every time she has to listen to Lance's another report. She is making efforts not to start dreaming accidentally and not look at him at a 'wrong' way. She holds her breath, and exhales only when he leaves ...

Until the day he leaves to never come back...

As if an avalanche in her chest demolishes all the built walls, dams and barriers.

That's all.

The end.

Her personal apocalypse - everything that used to seem important explodes and turns to dust. Now she can give free rein to all her feelings ... but all in vain - inside her there's just pain and absorbing black longing. Something that earlier could have resulted in tenderness, care, passion, breaks out in hysteria, emptiness, and despair. She can no longer be afraid... but she has simply no more strength to shout about what he must never know.

... And he will never ever know.

[cosmicroadkill]

In which I rant about Homestuck and Girls

I don’t hate the girls in Homestuck but I do hate how the fandom and even the source material handles them. I cannot stand how Nepeta is often reduced to this cutesy little girl who needs Equius to hold her hand, how Aradia’s personality is basically just straight-up ignored, or how Kanaya is sometimes either made the Mom Friend for gags or the Sexy Lesbian Vampire as if she has no other traits. I hate how Terezi and Feferi are treated like they did nothing wrong, as if Terezi didn’t get John KILLED on one timeline, and Fef’s ideals weren’t thinly veiled/rose-colored castism, and don’t even get me STARTED on Vriska.

I want to like Vriska, not only because I’m a Scorpio but because for the most part, she really is a badass, but she’s also a giant fucking bitch who never really faces the consequences of her actions. The closest we get is Tavros telling her off towards the end and even that is mild compared to her: Paralyzing him under the claims of making him stronger Murdering him later  Making Sollux murder Aradia  Blinding Terezi  Using John to one-up Terezi (which Terezi also did with Dave which is kinda fucked on both their parts, like wtf) 

True, she feels genuine remorse for killing Tavros but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like shit in the afterlife. And after all of this she STILL gets to be the hero of the story, she STILL gets to be the one thing that basically fixes the timeline, she ultimately gets what she wants and I hate it.  

And then there’s Terezi; cool, cooky, I love her scalemates and her serious knowledge about Alternian law and loyalty to her friends but the way she (and Kanaya for that matter) lets herself get wrapped up in Vriska’s bullshit is so, ugh! Like I pointed out, her whole thing with Dave started out as a competition between her and Vriska (I think she even says as much? I’d have to go back and check) which is shitty because she literally fucking uses Dave’s own insecurities when it comes to John to push him forward at her pace. Granted, both her and Vris kinda ease up and turn it into a friendship with their respective humans but that doesn’t exactly excuse the behavior. (I’m not too happy that they both lead into relationships the more I think about it, even if they both eventually fell through. That’s just, that’s not a good way to start a relationship).

There’s already a comprehensive post about Feferi’s shit/possible shit.

And then you have Kanaya, Nepeta, and Aradia who basically get their personalities fuckin neutered by a good portion of the fandom. While the Mom Friend jokes can be funny with Kan, its overplay and kinda tiring though admittedly preferable to Diva persona I saw a lot of people give her in early fandom, and anyone who makes Nepeta into a weak, baby owo girl who needs Equius to protect her is gonna catch these hands because Nep has proved to be one of the strongest and most capable of the trolls; fucking Equius would take out your kneecaps if he heard you talking about her that way. And Aradia? Like shit, it's like some of y’all just completely ignored her after she godtiered. (I know her personality was present before that but after is when she really shined) She’s funky and weird and kinda creepy and I wish more people would like be into that you know? Like I wish she and Jake and Dave could have been friends because you know those three would have gotten into so much trouble together.

Which leads to the human girls and gods do I wanna scream. Rose’s more “dorky” interests like writing wizard stories, gaming (as she was the most excited of the four for sburb if memory serves me) are often ignored in favor of playing her off as the “cool gof GF”. She’s not cool, none of the Strilonds are actually cool in the common sense of the words, they’re all fucking dorks. She literally psychoanalysis her friends for fun and spends a whole page (2 pages?) butchering sports with Dave. 

Jade, I found, was often dumbed down to the ditzy “blond” friend for a while, though I’m not sure if that still pervades her tag or not, but I have another beef with her that I’ll get to in a second. 

Roxy is often toted as the end all be all of NonProblematic Kids when they have Emotionally Abused Dirk  Almost killed Jane  Acted like Jake was stupid (then again, most of his friends did)  That’s not to say Roxy doesn’t TRY; they’re very aware of the harm they’ve caused to their friends and actively try to do better but that, like Terezi, that doesn’t mean you just get to ignore the shit they did. 

And Jane, Christ, Jane. She gets kicked by the majority of the fandom and even her friends and few times but the moment she claps back or makes a mistake (like telling Roxy she liked them better when they were drunk), she gets dunked on by what feels like everyone and their mother. Yes, Jane can be shitty at times but considering  Her crush basically manipulated her into the friendzone and then nonstop talked about his boyfriend problems for months (including on her OWN BIRTHDAY)  She was fatshamed and sexually harrassed(?) by Caliborn Roxy blew up her computer which could have killed her  Everything in general just going to shit Can you really blame her? Granted that doesn’t mean she should get away with the horrible things she’s said/done either like the aforementioned Roxy convo or, at least to some extent, her threats of sexual slavery against Jake. 

Which brings me to my big issue I mentioned with Jade; What’s with the human girls getting their agency stolen? Grimdark/bark, Trickster, Crockertier?? Like seriously, wtf?? Granted, Trickster happened to all the alpha kids and they were mostly aware so that one’s a little grasping for straws but the others? Like wtf man???

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE COURAGE OF DETAILS

They will have all the extra motivation that comes from being freed from the constraints of research. So far, we've reduced the problem from the direction of the arts, you're less likely to depend on this sort of calming lie is that we grow up thinking horrible things are normal. You could start users with a seed filter, but ultimately each user should have his own per-word probabilities based on the pie fallacy is stated explicitly:.1 Combine that with Pirsig and you get: Live in the future is to focus extra attention on specific parts of the email. Most hackers' first instinct is to try to think of startup ideas. As subjects got softer, the lies got more frequent. But if you yourself don't have good taste, how are you going to recognize a good designer? And the reason you should avoid these things is that you are already working as hard as you can in so many print publications—which is one of the first things he'll ask is, how much more.2 Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be very hard. In fact, faces seem to have made that deal, though perhaps it has to be able to filter them. I do, I look them straight in the eye and say I'm designing a new dialect of Lisp.3

In restoring your old car you have made yourself richer. At YC we call ideas that grow naturally out of the corner of his mouth is very disconcerting. This isn't quite true. Competitors commonly find ways to work around a patent.4 If economic inequality should be decreased. The source of the problem it fixes.5 The same is true in the arts, but most hackers are very competitive.

There is no such thing as better, it doesn't make any difference what Larry Page's net worth is compared to yours. Treat a startup as an optimization problem will help you avoid another pitfall that VCs worry about, and rightly—taking a long time it was most of making things easier, but now that the things we build are so complicated, there's another rapidly growing subset: making things easier. Windows itself.6 But really it doesn't matter much which you use. Why do you keep emails around after you've read them? The problem is not, in itself, what makes startups kick butt, but rather that small groups can be select. Marie Curie was on it because she was a woman, but as the corpus grows such tuning will happen automatically anyway.7 What are they to do? You pick the companies you want to get rich, and this trend has decades left to run. Right?

How do you tell whether something is the germ of a giant company. While the best way to discover startup ideas is to work with him on something. Kids, almost by definition, lack self-control.8 But it's not just fastidiousness that makes good hackers avoid nasty little problems. A viable startup might only have ten employees, which puts you within a factor of two? But I also think that the more different it gets.9 I've learned, to some degree, to judge technology by its cover. When you negotiate terms with a startup idea in one month, what if they'd chosen a month before the Altair appeared? What would you think of a financial advisor who put all his client's assets into one volatile stock? But that world ended a few years?

But you can't trust your opinions in the same way about the operating system. Notice all this time I've been talking about the limit case: the case where you not only have zero leisure time but indeed work so hard that you endanger your health.10 The unsexy filter is to ask yourself whether in your previous job you ever found yourself saying Why doesn't someone make x?11 Programs are very complex and, at least, by eliminating the drag of the pointy-haired middle manager who would be your boss in a big company: the pay's low but you spend most of your time working on new stuff. I wouldn't try to defend the actual numbers. Except in a few cases to buy a certain stock. Design by committee is a synonym for bad design. The Matrix have such resonance. Arguably pastoralism transformed a luxury into a commodity. Being at the leading edge of some rapidly changing field, there will be things that are false, and I'm going to talk about it to have anything more useful to say.12

Great programmers are sometimes said to be indifferent to money.13 Of all the approaches to fighting spam, from software to laws, I believe Bayesian filtering will be the single most effective. Don't spend much time worrying about the details of deal terms, especially when you first start angel investing. The part of angel investing that the decisions are hard. When I protested that the teacher had said the opposite, my father replied that the guy had no idea what he was talking about—that he was on the list because he was a programmer that Facebook seemed a good idea to have a mind that's prepared in the right startups is for investors.14 We were all lied to as kids, and some of the growth in economic inequality we've seen since then has been due to bad behavior of various kinds, there has been a qualitative change in the world. A job means doing something people want.

The way to kill it is to be young. This way you might be able to make something useful.15 I soon reached the conviction that much in the stories of the Bible could not be anything waiting for it. It was not till we were in our twenties that the truth came out: my sister, then about three, had accidentally stepped on the cat and broken its back. Instead of trading violins directly for potatoes, you trade violins for, say, approach offers as in this approach offers having a probability of more than. The reason our hypothetical jaded 10 year old leaning against a lamppost with a cigarette hanging out of the founders' own experiences organic startup ideas—by spending time learning about the easy part. If anyone wants to take on this kind of project. The cartoon strip Dilbert has a lot of other people's. Pay particular attention to things that chafe you. A company big enough to be fairly conservative, and within the company the people in the future, not now.16 So the guys you end up with special offers and valuable offers having probabilities of.

Notes

Down rounds are at selling it. Living on instant ramen would be improper to name names, while simultaneously implying that lies believed for a patent is conveniently just longer than the 50 minutes they may end up reproducing some of these groups, which is the odds are slightly worse.

Something similar has been happening for a reason.

Most were wrong, but investors can get done before that.

Give the founders.

It was harder for Darwin's contemporaries to grasp this than we can teach startups a lot more frightening in those days, then they're not ready to invest, it is still what seemed to us.

It was harder for you? Exercise for the talk to a car dealer.

Some are merely ugly ducklings in the production of high school kids at least bet money on convertible notes often have valuation caps, a market price if they did that in practice signalling hasn't been much of The New Industrial State to trying to focus on their utility function for money. So it may not be if Steve hadn't come back. They therefore think what they meant. So what ends up happening is that so many trade publications nominally have a single cause.

The existence of people we need to.

Different sections of the world as a definition of property without affecting and probably also the fashion leaders. Later stage investors won't invest.

We could have used another algorithm and everything I write out loud at least for those interested in each type of mail, I advised avoiding Javascript. One of the corpora.

After reading a draft of this essay, I have a standard piece of casuistry for this situation: that startups usually lose money at first had two parts: the source of food. Exercise for the talk to an adult. Throw in the King James Bible is Pride goeth before destruction, and many of the flock, or want tenure, avoid casual conversations with other people's.

If not, and B doesn't, that's not relevant to an investor derives mostly from the example of a type of thing. None at all. Which OS? You can build things for programmers, the work of selection.

So far, I suspect five hundred would be worth trying to capture the service revenue as well, but this sort of Gresham's Law of conversations. But an associate is not pagerank commercialized. A small, fast browser that was really only useful for one user.

It might also be good employees either. There is nothing more unconvincing, for example, would not be surprised if VCs' tendency to push founders to try to be staying at a particular valuation, that all metaphysics between Aristotle and 1783 had been Boylston Professor of Rhetoric at Harvard Business School at the mercy of investors want to stay in a limited way, without becoming a police state. But in most competitive sports, the computer hardware and software companies constrained in a place to exchange views. No Logo, Naomi Klein says that a company that could be mistaken, and—and probably also a second factor: startup founders are in a series.

Together these were the case of the growth in wealth, and there didn't seem to have too few customers even if the president faced unscripted questions by giving a press conference. This probably undervalues the company than you expect.

Dropbox wasn't rejected by all the best startups, the higher the walls become.

Thanks to Brad Templeton, Trevor Blackwell, Fred Wilson, the friends I promised anonymity to, Robert Morris, and Jessica Livingston for smelling so good.

[jadedjo]

Man Out of Time

More from my time travel au. Mara will have her say! So prepare for a poorly edited dialogue dump on the nature of the Jedi.

Previous installments:

Obi-Wan

Luke

3. Mara

She shouldn’t be doing this. As a Jedi Apprentice it was not her place. But as the wife of the head of the Jedi Order she felt like abusing her privileged status for the greater good. Even if that meant not preventing evil from taking over the galaxy.

Mara found Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Grand Audience Chamber. Seated on the floor before the lecture like any adept. Having removed his battle armor he appeared like any other man in meditation might. Expressions smoothed out as the Force flowed through him.

She made no effort to hide her approach and let her footfalls echo through the cavernous space. By the time she had reached him, Kenobi was standing and giving her a half bow.

“Pardon me,” he said before she could speak. “I was told no one would be up here for a while yet. If you’ll excuse me.” He started to move around her and toward the lift when she spoke up and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Actually, Master Kenobi, I am here to speak with you.”

“Forgive me, my lady,” he said with a regretful shake of his head. “I fear I am not up to conversation at the moment. Too much on my mind.”

“I realize that,” Mara said. “It was my husband who gave you so much to think about.”

He started at her remark and stared at her face for a moment before dropping his eyes.

“Forgive me,” he apologized again. “I’m not sure I can get used to Jedi so casually mentioning being romantically linked. Jedi…?”

“Mara Jade Skywalker,” she finished for him. “But not a Jedi yet, still an apprentice.” And before he could remark on that she asked, truly curious despite her mission, “Was it really so unheard of in your day for a Jedi to fall in love?”

“It happened,” he admitted then smiled ruefully. “To me even at one point.”

Her eyebrows shot up and had she been anyone else but a former Imperial Undercover Operative, no doubt her jaw would have dropped in surprise.

He chuckled, “It was a long time ago and had she asked I would have left the Order for her. But she didn’t and I have dedicated my life to the Jedi way.”

“But why even need to leave the Order?” Mara asked, seeing the opening she needed if her plan was to succeed.

“Because attachment is not the Jedi way,” he recited and she could feel waver in his emotions.

“But love is,” she countered.

“Not romantic love, possessive love,” he told her.

“Who said anything about possessive? My love for Luke is not possessive, nor he for me. It is a partnership built on trust, understanding, and love. Are there no relationships like that in your life?”

“Not that…. intimate,” he said delicately.

“Just because we have sex doesn’t change the nature of our love,” and she saw him wince at her forthrightness. “It just makes it more interesting. But sex aside, I have other platonic relationships with friends whom I love. Do those relationships mean attachment?”

“No, not necessarily…,”

“Then how is love with romantic elements added any different?” she asked.

“Is this what you wished to speak with me about?” Master Kenobi asked back, trying to deflect her questioning.

Letting him off the hook for the moment she said, “In a way. I know Luke told you all about the past, your future, and has said that it will be up to you to decided what to do with that information.”

“Yes,” he said regaining his equilibrium, controlling and shielding his emotions better so she could almost feel his relief at letting the former subject go. His body language became more upright and confident. “Yes, I can’t believe that Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord. Right in our midst and we didn’t even see it. And to know that he corrupted Anakin to turn from the Order, I can see why Luke told me everything he did.”

“But do you truly understand it,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?” he looked at her quizzically. “What is there to understand? I can prevent a great evil from befalling the galaxy. It is my duty as a Jedi to act.”

“Actually, it’s not your duty as a Jedi. A Jedi’s purpose is to act out the will of the Force, to keep it in balance and helping those who need it. But what if it’s the galaxy that needs help? Or the Jedi for that matter?”

“I fail to see where you’re going with this. If I change your past, won't I be helping the Jedi, keeping the Order and the Republic intact and destroying the Sith?”

“But would you accomplish those goals if you returned?” she reasoned. “You don’t know. But let’s say for augment's sake that you did manage all that. Is what you have then better then what we have now?”

“You wouldn’t have all the death and chaos that Palpatine brings with his Sith Empire,” Master Kenobi insisted.

“Speaking as the Emperor’s former agent AND as a soon to be Jedi,” and she saw him frown at her words but she carried on. “I can tell you that, yes Palpatine needed to be gotten rid of, but the New Republic that has arisen is stronger and more resilient than the old.”

“And the Jedi?” he asked.

“Stronger and more resilient than the old.”

“But all of our knowledge,” Master Kenobi insisted. “A 1000 generations of Jedi history lost. 10,000 Jedi Knights reduced to a few dozen?! And you say this is better?!”

“Yes, better,” she said. “The Purge was horrible. The knowledge that was lost is tragic, but perhaps the old way was becoming stagnant. Unwilling to change.”

“I cannot believe I’m hearing this,” he said shaking his head and crossing his arms.

“Just listen Kenobi!” she hissed. “Open your mind to the possibility that you might be wrong. That the Jedi of your time might be wrong. Luke tells the story that when he went to Master Yoda for training the old Master insisted that he was too old. He was only 22 at the time. Then given grief over his caring about his friends.”

Kenobi gasped, “22?! By that age he should have been a Knight or close to it!”

“Brought up by the Jedi, perhaps, but this way he was able to live a relatively normal life with loving caretakers. Have life experience and grow and mature to be able to handle the emotional mantle that being a Jedi requires, even then it was a heavy burden.”

“If he had grown up in the creche that would be automatic,” Kenobi countered.

“And would a Jedi brought up in the creche have forgiven the man who destroyed the Jedi? To see the light in him and through his love, bring an evil man back to the light?”

“What do you mean?” Kenobi frowned at her sudden topic change.

“Did Luke not tell you about Darth Vader?”

“He said that was Anakin’s Sith name.”

“Yes, but did he not tell you about how he saved Vader and returned him to the light?”

“He said Vader killed Palpatine to save him.”

“Only after Luke sacrificed himself by refusing to turn to the Dark Side,” she explained. “In his love for his father, he would not kill him because he felt Vader’s conflict and war within himself. The exact opposite of what you and Yoda told him to do. Palpatine was killing Luke, and Vader killed his Master in order to save his son.”

“He glossed over that part,” Kenobi drawled.

“He doesn’t like reliving it,” Mara conceded. “But could any of your Jedi believe that anyone who turned to the Dark Side could be redeemed?”

“It is said,” Kenobi said tentatively. “That once you turn to the Dark Side you can never come back.”

“Tell that to Anakin Skywalker and Kam Solusar, the man who greeted you upon landing. To Kyp Durron and Kyle Katarn. Tell that to Luke himself who strayed and was brought back by his sister’s love. Tell that to me, who was the Emperor’s most faithful servant and who wanted nothing more than Skywalker’s death by my hands right up to the day I finally met him and received kindness instead. Could your Jedi have forgiven us all? Let us atone for our sins and make amends?

“Could your Jedi have allowed a man who had once been a servant of the Sith to teach the next generation of Jedi. For another to marry a fellow Jedi with virtually no Force ability and only for her love of keeping our history alive?”

“And what should happen if your spouse was captured or killed?” He said. Mara could tell the man was trying to find an argument to counter her without actually answering any of her questions.

“We all know the risk when we accepted the mantle of Jedi. Loss is just a part of life. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t live life to the fullest just because we are scared of loss, but rather because of our fear.”

“Fear is of the dark side,” he quoted but she cut him off. A Jedi Master he may be but even the Master’s in her time were not exempt from her calling them out.

“Only when we let our fear control us.”

She paused for a moment and when Kenobi said nothing further she asked, “The woman you loved. What became of her?”

He seemed to shrink in on himself and Mara knew whatever he said next wouldn’t be happy. “She died, while I was supposed to be protecting her.”

“I’m sorry,” Mara said sincerely. “But if I may point out, her death has not sent you into a dark spiral of loss and anguish. So what makes you think that should Luke or I die tomorrow that either of us would Fall?”

She could see in his eyes that he didn’t have a satisfactory answer other than more Pre-Purge Jedi doctrine. Here she was, not even a full Jedi, challenging a Jedi Master’s center of belief system but she felt no remorse if it made Kenobi think about how the Jedi should grow and move forward.

She decided to take pity on him and said, “All I’m asking is that you consider all the ramifications of your decision. Is your order really that much better than mine? This is my family, and would be even if I hadn’t married a Jedi.”

“I understand that, I love my fellow Jedi like my family as well,” he agreed and seemed relieved to be given a way out of the former topic.

“Not to sound uncaring Master Kenobi, but I don’t think you do understand. You were brought up within the Jedi themselves. They chose you. Whereas I chose them. The Jedi are my family by choice. Just as every other person here chose this life. We all chose to be Jedi. Right down to the children, none of whom I might add, are less than 13. Which in my opinion is still too young to make such an important life decision.”

“You have an answer for everything don’t you?” He said then mumbled to himself. “And they called me the Negotiator.”

“Negotiation isn’t really my thing,” Mara explained. “That’s Luke. Think of me as his silent general, ready to do what’s necessary when everything goes to hell. And around Luke, that’s usually the case despite his best efforts.”

“Sounds like he takes after his father. Only Anakin usually goes looking for trouble, not the other way around.”

Just then the life doors whooshed open and Luke came striding towards them and a wave of happiness and excitement enveloped them.

“I just got off the comm with Leia,” he said. “She’s looking into everything she can find about Padme Amidala. Say’s she actually recognizes the name as someone her father greatly admired.”

“Yes,” Kenobi said. “Senator Organa and Senator Amidala where good friends and leaders in drafting the initiative to limit the Chancellor’s emergency powers.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Mara asked as Luke came to stand beside her.

“My mother!” he said excitedly.

“After Luke showed me a holo of his sister I knew it was Padme. She and Anakin met while children and Anakin was infatuated with her while still a padawan.  After the battle of Genosis I knew something had changed in their relationship but not to what extent. I never dreamed he would be so foolish as to get her pregnant.”

Mara whirled on him in righteous fury, “And here you are lecturing me about attachment when you were covering for your apprentice!”

“I didn’t know for sure,” he tried to soothe her.

“But you suspected and said nothing. You Kenobi, are a sanctimonious hypocrite! You are a perfect example of what was wrong with the Jedi from before the purge.” She spat and swung around and marched from the chamber.

~~~

Obi-wan moved to go after her. To better explain himself. She’d blind-sided him with her accusations and perceptions on his Jedi. Some that he couldn’t rightly counter. Now her disgust at what he’d turned a blind-eye towards shamed him.

A hand on his arm prevented him from moving more than a step. Looking back, he saw a serious look on Anakin’s son’s face, warning him not to follow.

“I’ll talk to her later. After she’s had a chance to calm down,” Luke said.

He knew her better then Obi-wan did, and so he conceded. Not really wanting another confrontation with her anyway. But some of the things Mara Jade Skywalker had said nagged at him.

“You seem to have quite a few Jedi here who have been to the Dark Side,” Obi-wan said, refraining from pointing out that according to Luke’s own wife, he had been to the Dark Side.

Luke gave a small smile and said, “I see you two had a lot to talk about.” It was not the response Obi-wan had expected.

“She has certainly given me much to think about.”

“I’m sure. But to answer your question, I don’t believe that one can never be redeemed from the Dark Side. It’s a choice like anything else in life. To choose the light or to choose the dark and that choice doesn’t need to be permanent.

“I have no doubt Mara told you I myself turned. I’m not proud of what I did and I try and atone for it every day since. But if anything, it has given me a better understanding of why someone might choose that path and help steer them away from it. Not everyone Falls because of lust for power. That’s not why I did nor why most of those who have fought their way back to the light did.”

Obi-wan couldn’t’ believe what he was hearing, “You think turning to the Dark Side made you a better Jedi?!”

“No, of course not. I’m just saying that I understand why some others did fall and how to help the back to the light.”

“Do you know why Anakin fell?” asked Obi-wan.

“I don’t,” Luke said regretfully. “I wish I did.”

“Then I guess even if I do decide to change the past it might not matter anyway.”

“It’s the nature of time and the Force. Always in motion but always moving forward,” said Luke, sounding very much like Master Yoda. “Even when I’ve actively tried to change my vision of the future they usually still come to pass while when I do nothing then they sometimes change.”

He rubbed his temple. A headache forming behind his eyes. Something that only happened when Anakin was at his most reckless.

“But I think that is enough talk of what path the Jedi should take and whether or not it can be changed. I’m sorry if Mara came off as a bit brisque, but her heart is in the right place.”

“Why didn’t you tell her not to come?”

Luke chuckled. “One, she is my wife and not my subordinate despite being my apprentice and two, you try and tell Mara not to do something she’s set her mind to.” He shook his head. “Trust me, it never goes well.”

“That sounds like a complicated relationship.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[analytic-chaoticism]

Help For Hire, Advice For Free: Marsti Houtek as Sylph of Void

Marsti Houtek is a queen who deserves the love of the world and she definitely hasn’t been getting enough so I’m here to give her a classpect character analysis. She’s just... so kind... so good... Today - as any other - we will be using @revolutionaryduelist’s understanding of the Homestuck class system. Spoilers for Marsti’s routes and long post ahead:

Let’s look at what Taz has got to say on Sylphs: 

“But some consistent themes surrounding [fae - the Create class unifying myth] include an unearthly Fairy realm of their own to inhabit(which certainly describes Aradia’s relationship to the Bubbles) and an interest in meddling in the affairs of mortals. (Kanaya and Aranea. Nuff said).”

“So Kanaya’s one reference to being a fairy is here, where she’s described as being a Fairy God Troll.”

“Fairies in general were also sometimes considered a species of Elemental, being a broad term sometimes used to describe [Sylphs].  Sylphs in particular are a kind of Wind Elemental, meaning a being literally made from the force it derives its essence from.”

“Finding a balance between focusing on themselves and their desire to get involved with and help others is part of a Sylph’s struggle.”

- optimisticDuelist

A lot there but we’ll break it all down. 

Marst’s sign is Arittarius - the Astronaut - meaning they are a Derse-dreaming Void player. Void (in short) is the aspect of nothingness and irrelevance, obfuscation/mystery, misfortune, and erasure. As the inverse of Light it also has connections to the material. As a rustblood, her caste - via the presiding Aries true sign - are influenced by the Maid of Time classpect. Time is - most importantly here - the aspect of decay, action, inevitability, and death (as a facet of destruction). Maids are the active (selfish) class of the Create class pair, Sylphs the passive (selfless). I also refer to these as being ‘internally vs externally motivated.’ 

The etymology of her last name relates to both Time and Void. Credit to the MSPA wiki:

“Her first name means "purification" in Sanskrit which fits her janitor like appearance. Her last name could be derived from the comet Kohoutek, which before its close approach, was promoted by the media as the "comet of the century" as it was expected it would produce a spectacular display of outgassing; because Comet Kohoutek fell far short of expectations, its name became synonymous with spectacular duds. Additionally, In 1973, David Berg, founder of the Children of God, predicted that Comet Kohoutek foretold a colossal doomsday event in the United States in January 1974.”

To purify something is to remove unwanted or negative elements, erasing or ‘voiding’ them, so that’s a bit of a gimme. But Houtek is interesting; it’s a promise of great relevance - due to a bright light - becoming associated with irrelevance and darkness (Void), assuming apocalyptic symbolism? Well Time - particularly Aradia, apocalypseArisen - is all about moving toward the day everything is destroyed. Perfect double thematics, and it relates to her title as the Astronaut. 

An astronaut is literally a professional spaceman, sure, but I more immediately think of the loneliness of space: someone swallowed by - if you will, becoming one with (elementals i.e. Sylphs) - a great unknowable void, in which they are made entirely insignificant. I could stop here but I’ll keep going aye.

First I want to jump onto the fairy imagery because it’s the most distinctive part of Marsti’s characterization in regards to classpect I feel. Marsti emulates a single story that shows her as a Sylph, roleplaying as a Maid: Cinderella.

1) Cinderella is a maid, forced to serve others - cleaning AKA Marsti’s self-and-socially-imposed job - as a fundamental part and symbol of her poverty (rustbloods anybody?). Speaking from a Create class perspective, she is also literally a Maid: an active class forced into an unhealthy state of passivity, maintaining her family’s home. She is made irrelevant in a bad way, and has her life consumed by the material. I know there’s a lot of bolding but that’s because there’s a lot of importance here, bear with me. This is relevant because Marsti is assuming the role of Cinderella, roleplaying as a Maid who is made to (functionally) roleplay as a Sylph. It sounds like I’m suggesting Marsti is embracing Sylphdom, but because she’s approaching it from a misinterpreted angle of negativity, she’s doing so in a non-constructive way. As Taz notes, diminishment of self is a key struggle for Sylphs (and Maids when they are too passive at the beginning of their self-realizing journey).

2) Cinderella is inextricably linked to her fairy godmother, a familiar-like figure that enables her realization of self. The fairy godmother is Marsti’s true role. The fairy godmother is a selfless helper who helps Cinderella overcome the irrelevance she had accepted by using irrelevant items: a mystery figure showing up in a pumpkin carriage only identifiable by a glass slipper (something transparent, leaving no real information) - it’s literally the most Voidy it gets as Homestuck is concerned, really. This is the fairy godmother who meddles in the affairs of the poor and downtrodden, creating and empowering through Void; someone who comes - heralded by “twinkling lights” as the “embodiment of Cinderella’s hope” (an active person’s passive desire to help others) - and solves problems with the wave of a wand “that she can summon from nothingness.” In pop-culture, the fairy godmother is basically a glorified janitor for a shitty life. 

The fairy godmother appears and purifies a situation, cleaning up Cinderella’s irrelevant life with the symbols of Void that kept her down and dirty in the first place. Cinderella is the literal janitor, the fairy godmother the metaphoric one. And of course we can’t forget that this magical spell is on a timer, so there’s that.

I think it’s fair to say these things all relate pretty well to Marsti on all 4 class and aspect levels when you start connecting some dots. Like with Vikare, there are no explicit mentions of fairies or magic beyond that, but - similarly - there is some naturalistic imagery.

Moss being an irrelevant and unwanted plant that grows in empty spaces. 

The purple calls it his sacred iconography, important information relevant to his faith that she erases: creating void (for others, removing unpleasant imagery for a nicer viewing experience). 

The scientist reference reminds me of Jade, someone also referred to as a scientist, whose class - the Witch - is ‘less magic’ than the Sylph. In this way, Marsti’s class identity is being reduced - made irrelevant - by her social role. 

The Reader refers to the creation of their potential relationship as hinging on a ‘drunken’ destiny, alcohol - and the obfuscation of being drunk - explicitly related to void: creating through void to the benefit of the Reader. 

In an alley - a dark and unimportant place - Marsti creates a hiding place by hunkering in the trash and silencing you (creating Void for others). 

She questions the Reader’s seeming desire to die - the ultimate form of self-imposed irrelevance, removing your ability to affect reality - because she’s the concerned mom-friend (as Sylphs are want to be)...

She goes out of her way to help the most neglected areas with her own positive Void, taking advantage of their irrelevance to heal them...

A very physical, material activity the Reader notes takes a lot of muscle power (connecting her to Void players, with the continuous references to her seeming lack of weapons reinforcing this as they all fight with fistkind)... 

Which is a process hinging on her ability to make her own feelings, desire, and very self irrelevant. She becomes Void to help others. 

She makes the Reader’s prior information irrelevant, creating a void in their knowledge that benefits everyone involved because this is effectively a casual-racism allegory. She emphasizes this by again assuming the aspect, creating a mystery around her entire character. 

Similarly, she creates a physical mystery - and an emotional distance between herself and others - by wearing her goggles. They say eyes are the windows to the soul, so I imagine it’s hard to get information from a person when they’re closed off like that. 

In the bad route - where the Reader worries about leading her into becoming a Zebruh slave, service being a core problem to the self-realization of Create classes - it seems like Marsti is internally motivated. Like she says, she cleans “whatever [she’s] feeling, mostly -_-” Therein lies the problem: this isn’t because she’s a Maid embracing her activity. It’s because she’s a Sylph rejecting her natural passivity and trying to emulate an active figure subsumed by an irrelevant passivity in turn. Cinderella indeed. She doesn’t want to lead the janitorial lifestyle and she doesn’t want to do things for herself, she wants to help others. Her perceived selfishness - her closing herself off and doing whatever she wants - is a defense mechanism, disguising her desires from a violent society and trying to assume some control over a worthless life; it appears like she has achieved this - yay successful Sylph right? - but her independence is an unhealthy kind stemming from the Void imposed by society. You can tell it’s unhealthy and disingenuous because it makes her incredibly unhappy and confrontational: 

She’s worried about dying if she commits to her true passive self, so has created a persona of independent agency to protect herself at the cost of her well being. She hasn’t found a true balance between focusing on herself - validating her own desires and identity - and helping others.

She’s happiest when she’s using her understanding of Void to help Folykl nurse herself: creating through X with X, for the benefit of others.

When she’s finally honest with the Reader and herself, it’s bonding over the creation or repair of Void, and the happiness they find when helping others: meddling in their lives to clean them up, like a fairy godmother. 

Some misc stuff is how she doesn’t want a “staged mess” in the bad route - natural imagery - and her presence in Galekh’s hive allows the destruction of Galekh’s writing (Light) - creation of Void - via goatdad.

So there you go folks. Marsti as the Sylph of Void.

[aphreal42]

Knight Shop: Apples (redux)

Picking up about two months after the first part, found here. 

“I think that should be it.” Alexia set down the wooden slats, leaning them against the wall behind where the baskets sat, then stepped aside so Alistair could place the ones he carried next to them.

He set the boards down gently, trying to line them up properly, keeping things tidy. The garden shed at the Cousland estate looked better maintained than his flat. After enough months of visiting on a near-daily basis, he’d almost stopped feeling completely out of place around here. Especially when he was carrying heavy things; no one could object to him being here if he was making himself useful.

Like by helping Alexia pack away the booth after the last market of the season. “I thought I saw something else in the van. I’ll go check. You wouldn’t want the staff trying to set up a stall without a wall next year.”

Alexia swept her eyes over the collection of materials filling the corner of the shed, then shrugged. “It can’t hurt to check. Could you lock up the van while you’re at it?”

“Sure.” Taking her offered keys, he trekked across the grounds to the drive where the van was parked. The back drive, of course, not the long, formal front one. You wouldn’t pull a van full of lumber up to the front of a place like this. Or maybe the back drive was just handier for the shed.

The back of the van was empty, as Alexia had predicted, but Alistair had been right, too. There was something sitting on one of the back seats, a wooden-sided bushel basket of the sort Alistair thought only existed in stories. And it was brimming with apples. Plump, ridged yellow-green apples with a slight pink tint on one side. They didn’t look quite like any of the others she’d brought home, and he couldn’t wait to see what new flavor experiences this variety had in store for him.

Beaming happily, he scooped up the basket -- a whole basket of fresh apples! -- and carried it inside, hitting the button to lock the van as he went.

He found Alexia in the kitchen, washing up some of the plastic containers used to transport produce.

“All locked up.” Alistair placed the basket of apples on the counter, then tucked the van keys into the pocket of Alexia’s jacket where it sat neatly folded at a safe distance from the sink full of water. He eyed the dish towel, hanging on its peg by the rack where Alexia was building a small but precarious tower of dripping plastic boxes and lids. He ought to help her, drying dishes while she washed. It would be the chivalrous thing to do, the only appropriate action for a knight. Not to mention a boyfriend. He really should go over there to help her.

And he would. As soon as he tried one of these mysterious nearly star-shaped apples.

He selected one sitting on the top of the pile, with its reddish blushed side tilted up invitingly. The lobed shape felt interesting in his hand, and there was a pleasant density that promised a solid crunch. Admiring the shape and color, he raised it to his mouth to savor the first bite.

He nearly choked. Bitter, astringent liquid filled his mouth around a solid chunk of fruit he didn’t dare chew for fear of releasing more of that painfully tart juice. He stood frozen for a moment, trying not to swallow, feeling his tongue tighten and the roof of his mouth start to turn to leather, wondering how long before his eyes started watering. This was the worst apple he’d ever eaten. Why had Alexia bought an entire basket of these abominations?

Alexia turned just as he spat the unchewed piece of apple back into his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Maker, that was… that was horrible!” He shuddered, dragging his tongue against his teeth as if he could scrape away the tight, too-small feeling. “I couldn’t risk swallowing it. It might have been poisoned, and then I’d wind up asleep in a box in the woods waiting for a hero to come save me.”

Alexia’s concerned confusion shifted quickly into one of her amused-but-trying-not-to-be expressions he’d come to cherish over the past few months. Almost as much as the fond smiles she tried to conceal or the laughter of genuine delight that she didn’t.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the sink, retrieving the container she’d dropped into the sudsy water when he started making spluttering choking noises. “Do you really think I’d try to poison you?” The softness of a smile crept into her voice now that her back was turned. “I’m far too busy this week to go searching through a forest.”

A knight probably shouldn’t get all sentimental at the prospect of being helpless and needing to be rescued. But the thought that someone could care enough that she took it as a given that she would put the effort into it, that she would assume that of course he was worth saving... Well, knight or not, that was worth getting a little starry-eyed over.  

His sentimentality was abruptly crushed as a tiny fragment of acidic fruit seared into his gums, a cruel reminder of star-shaped fruit-borne treachery. “I’ve been betrayed by an apple. How can I trust anyone right now?”

Alexia set the rinsed container neatly on the stack with the others, wiped her hands on a towel, and turned to face him with folded arms and a sigh. “I promise I’m not trying to poison you. Those apples are for Kosh.”

“Why would you want to poison Kosh? He’s so nice!”

Laughing softly, she moved from the sink to the counter where he’d placed the basket, arms unfolding as her stern demeanor melted away. She picked up the apple he’d rejected, his single bite showing white against the greenish skin. “These are baking apples; they’re not meant to be eaten fresh.”

Alistair leaned back as she gestured, wary of getting too close to the acidic monstrosity masquerading as an apple. “Those things are horrible. They shouldn’t be eaten at all.”

Alexia feigned a casual shrug, setting the marred apple on the counter beside the still-full basket. “If that’s how you feel, I’m sure Kosh won’t force you to try the tarts he’s planning to make with them.”

Good, he would stay well away from anything related to the excessively acidic, tannic fruits that Kosh was mad enough to want for some inexplicable-- Oh, wait... “Tarts?”

“Kosh didn’t say for certain what he has in mind for them, but Calville Blancs are traditionally used in tarte aux pommes and most other classic Orlesian recipes that call for apples and pastry.” She flashed a quick, wry smile. “Or so I’ve been told.”

The apples might be terrible, but tarts were another story. Especially tarts made by Kosh. If anyone could bake these abominations into something worth eating, it would be Kosh. “I guess I could give them another try after they’ve been baked. We wouldn’t want to hurt Kosh’s feelings, when he’s gone to all the work of making inedible fruit into tarts.”

“That’s very generous of you. I’m sure he’ll appreciate you making that sacrifice.” Despite her sincere tone, Alexia’s grin was knowing, maybe even approaching the vicinity of smug.

“Generous, that’s me. That one isn’t in the Scout Law, but it should be. I’ll have to settle for helpful.” He retrieved the dish towel and gingerly pulled the top container off the precarious stack.

After a moment, Alexia returned to the sink next to him, washing the last few boxes and handing them off for him to dry. When she got to the end of the pile, she got a second towel and joined his efforts to reduce the stack of dripping containers.

They’d nearly finished when she remarked, far too casually, “Kosh may not get to his baking right away. I wasn’t sure that you’d want to wait that long to have apples.”

“You got some that aren’t poisoned?” Eagerly, he scanned the counters, looking for where the actual edible apples might be hiding.

“Calvilles are not poison.” Alexia plucked the final container from his unmoving hands, removing the last of the clinging water drops from its plastic surface with a few swipes of her towel.

“You can’t prove that. You didn’t try eating one.”

“I didn’t. Because I was warned they’re only good for baking, and unlike some people, I listen to warnings.”

Alistair considered pointing out she hadn’t given him any warning until after he’d taken a bite of one, but that might not work in his defense since it would raise the related point of him having taken the apple from the basket -- not to mention the basket from the van -- without asking.

Setting the now-dry container with the others, Alexia hung up the dish towel. “Regardless, I can’t really imagine any self-respecting evil sorceress would disguise herself as a man who runs an orchard in order to sell poisoned apples to random customers. It seems inefficient.” She slipped past him to pick up a medium-sized brown paper bag tucked inconspicuously on one of the counters. “But if you don’t trust him, I could see if someone else wants the apples he set aside for me to bring you.”

Alistair stared, transfixed, at the simple bag with its tantalizing hidden contents, an untasted apple variety waiting to be discovered. She couldn’t possibly take that away and deprive him of finding out what that mundane brown paper concealed. She couldn’t be that cruel. Could she? He mustered his best begging-mabari expression, just in case. “You wouldn’t.”

The mabari bit must have worked. Eyes sparkling with amusement, Alexia kissed him on the cheek. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

She handed him the bag, and he gladly accepted. The weight of it promised solid, dense apples held within.

But for the moment, the apples took second place to the amazing woman at his side, her fingers brushing softly across the back of his hand. He still hadn’t gotten used to how easily she’d slipped across the line into open, casual affection once everything was out in the open. Maybe he never would stop being surprised by spontaneous kisses and sword-calloused fingers wrapping gently around his. He kind of hoped so; he couldn’t imagine becoming jaded enough to take this for granted.

They stayed that way for a moment, close together, barely touching, in a comfortable silence filled with a tenderness he had fleeting moments of almost thinking he might deserve.

Alexia’s lips curled into a playful smile, and she nudged at the bag of apples. “You can open it. I promise these are safe.”

With a grin, he turned his attention back to the parcel, the brown paper crinkling as he raised it up to read the words on its side: Claygate pearmain. For Alexia’s knight.

That... definitely wasn’t Alexia’s handwriting. “The orchard owner actually…”

“He set those aside for you, yes.” Alexia lifted one shoulder in a hint of a shrug. “He said he doesn’t have many Claygate trees, but he thought you’d like to try these, given the other varieties you’ve enjoyed. So he wanted to make sure you got some of them before they were all sold.”

He’d been planning to ask about a man he’d never met referring to him as “Alexia’s knight”, but the fact this stranger was saving apples for him was worth knowing, too. And it’s not like the description was particularly inaccurate, really. He could think of a pretty long list of worse things he’d been called. At least this was something to be proud of. And it came with apples.

Alistair pulled one of the Claygates out of the bag, confirming his initial impression of its weight and density. The heavy, solid apple was nicely round and a kind of dull golden color, with pale reddish streaks on one side. He bit into it, surprised by the combination of density and tenderness, and a spiced sweetness filled his mouth, juice released from the solid fruit as he chewed.

“Do you like it?” Alexia tilted her head, waiting for his thoughts.

She’d be waiting for a while to get anything specific, given how solid the Claygate was. He nodded while chewing, and she smiled, continuing to watch him for reactions. An almost nutty taste lingered after he swallowed. It was almost entirely unlike his first encounter with a Grav, except for the sense of wonder that an apple could taste so good while being so unlike anything he’d ever expected from an apple.

Grinning, he added words to his response now that his mouth was free. “Sorceress in disguise or not, your apple peddler knows his wares. This is really good. You want to try it?” He held the fruit towards her in offering.

Alexia gave a quick shake of her head, although she looked tempted. “I shouldn’t. Those are yours.”

“They are mine. Which means I can share them if I want to. You should try one.” He wiggled the apple temptingly. “It’s really good.”

“If you insist…” Laughing softly, she accepted the fruit, taking a small bite, and Alistair watched as startlement and delight spread across her face while she slowly chewed.

Had she really not been trying any of the apples she brought him? All these weeks, she’d been missing out on these amazing apple experiences because she was saving them all for him? That had to be corrected.

Hands clasped firmly behind his back, he refused the apple when she tried to return it. “Nope. You touched it; that one’s yours now.” He tilted his head towards the nearly-full bag on the counter to forestall further protest. “I have others.”

“Alistair, I’m not taking your apple. I brought them for you. This is yours.” Alexia glared at him, apple still held in one outstretched hand.

He probably shouldn’t find her quite so endearing at times like this, with her expression hovering somewhere between fond and annoyed. But he’d seen a lot of that almost-but-not-completely-suppressed smile in the months since she’d first come into the Shop. He’d gotten well acquainted with the quirk to her lips when she was trying to resist laughing, the softening in her eyes that took all the sting out of a glare that could match Gal’s when she truly meant it.

Alistair had spent a long time wondering if he was imagining things, once he realized she never seemed to look at anyone else that way, eyes sparkling with amusement she didn’t want to admit to. And maybe once or twice -- or a dozen times a week -- he’d gone out of his way to provoke that mock-annoyance, just to have her look at him with that almost-there smile that gave him a glimmer of hope his infatuation might not be as hopeless as it had every right to be.

And now -- now that she invited him to Cousland family dinners and curled up with her head on his shoulder when they watched old tourney matches and brought him apples from an orchard owner who knew him only as “Alexia’s knight” -- now that he didn’t have to guess about the warmth under that stern facade, he cherished these moments even more.

Alistair met her glare with a cheery smile that would have signaled a death wish if she were serious. “The answer’s still no. It’s your apple now.”

“You’ve been raving about apples all summer. You love these apples. I’m not stealing that from you.”

“You’re not stealing anything; I’m giving one to you. You liked it, too, right? So I want to share that with you.” He took hold of her outstretched hand that still held the apple, gently guiding it back towards her. “Because, hard as it may be to believe, it turns out I like you more than apples.”

Her irritation, real and feigned both, vanished, melting away into a soft unguarded smile that was worth a whole orchard full of apples. “I like you, too. Very much.”

She kissed him, her lips warm and holding traces of the sweet nuttiness of the Claygate, and Alistair couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

[kathemy]

Gotham: One of my Three Soups

Full unabridged review

Leave it to a show like Gotham to force me to go political.

I would like to preface the following: I absolutely hate writing negative reviews of a show most dear to my heart, and I really wish I could stop.

So why don't I?

In starting, this will likely be my longest review to date. You may accuse me of navel-gazing. If this isn't your cup of tea, move away. However... This is that dialectical cusp where I have to break down everything in order to continue, and it'll be messy.

I've loved Gotham from season one episode seven. I've loved Batcat since episode nine. I started posting about both - after having sunk deep into the stinking swamp of the Vampire Diaries fandom - in anticipation of the second season, which turned out to be fantastic. I joined the Doux team specifically to cover my favorite show in the middle of that season.

Once I was hooked... That was it. There was no going back. I've never stopped loving Gotham. When it comes to this enterprise, the sky's the limit - it can produce astonishingly beautiful, content-rich, engaging television, a subtle evolution of relationships, fantastic characters, and it's populated by arguably the best main cast on network television.

That's probably why I'm harsh at it at times. I know the show's upper ceiling is so high, and I just wish for it to realize itself in every outing, which is probably impossible. In retrospect, I was picky in my season two reviews, but back then we were all on such a high that if I weren't I'd been reduced to raving nonstop, and that's not a hallmark of a good critic. However, the second part is that Gotham has been stumbling, it's made catastrophic mistakes and it's sometimes painful to watch, even as there are glimpses or more of its trademark excellence left.

And I guess that's what keeps me here. I'm so in love with the cast, the characters and the show's flashes of brilliance that I will never abandon it, even if the show occasionally hurts me.

Long ago, back in 2015, I made a tumblr post about everything that was right with Gotham. This was in response to some senseless bashing which was all-too-prevalent those days. It's a bit twisted that back then, I was fighting the haters and considered a die-hard fanboy, and now, people try to pick fights with me for daring to talk shit about a show which I still love. 

Two selling points in that piece were how Gotham ignored age- and gender-based stereotypes, and here by season four, Gotham has betrayed both of these qualities, albeit in very different ways.

It betrayed the first one by insisting that a young girl could not be allowed a seductress storyline - a clear shift from season two where Silver St. Cloud did just that - and expulsed Clare Foley for bikini model Maggie Geha. The result was a train wreck.

It betrayed the second one by buying hook line and sinker into the new gender stereotypes of the Hollywood chic, though it's ironic how Patryk commented on my last review how maybe they were going for that "Sixties sexist vibe". Those traditions have some points in common, and curiously Gotham almost seems to lean on both.

Anyway... if you're still here... this is where I'm starting my real review. Here goes.

'One of my Three Soups'. Only in Gotham. When I first read that title, I thought "well, they probably just wanted to figure out the weirdest possible name for an episode; God knows if it'll actually mean anything." Color me surprised when it was actually a clean reference to a scene, and a good one too!

This is the first episode introducing the terrible trio of Jerome, Scarecrow and Mad Hatter, and they really work well together. Scarecrow looks and sounds like lifted straight out of Arkham Knight. Jervis Tetch never had smarter turns of dialog - the content may be another matter - and Jerome is, well, Jerome, giving anyone a run for their money at overacting. These are actual, raving mad supervillains and they certainly are both menacing and entertaining. Their "plan" is signature Gotham - ostensibly clever while not making much sense if you think it over, but it provides for lots of fun.

The triple treat of the evening is Tetch jerking around with Gordon, Bruce and Selina trying to catch Jerome, and Barbara's adventures with the League of Shadows. The first two parts are pretty good or better.

It seems that Gotham is close to figuring out what to do with its chief protagonist; it only took four seasons! The gist that it's selling is Jim's realization that "I'm a little shit, but I have to pretend to be a hero and do my job anyway," and that's a damn good look on him. Jim's never exactly sold "jaded" before - he's sold "tired", "angry", "self-righteous", "more angry" and "apathetic", but here he's finally starting to come through as something that could lead up to his comic book role, as well as someone having a great deal in common with a younger Harvey Bullock. Speaking of Bullock, their conflict seems mostly resolved, but it also seems he's been cast in the role of Jim's eternal bad conscience.

In conclusion it's quite poetic how Jim wins his fight with the Mad Hatter exactly by resigning to the fact that he is helpless - "I can't save you. Save each other." As well as being actually clever, this is the single most powerful line Jim Gordon's delivered in the run of the show.

Bruce's quest for Jerome is classic boneheaded Batman territory, with Bruce both steadfastly determined to bring in Jerome by himself rather than leave it to the cops as well as being completely unable to entertain the notion that anyone will be allowed to die in the process. The cool thing about it, though, is that now we actually have a reason for it - he's simply so traumatized over the fallout of him killing Ra's Al Ghul that he's terrified that something like that might ever happen again.

Baby Batcat's little flirt keeps on escalating, as it's done over the show's whole run. If the show won't soon act on all that tension, it'll win the prize for "worst string-along in television history." Their dialog is extremely "Batman/Catwoman"-esque here, even mimicking a heated scene from 'Batman Returns', but the main takeaway isn't that. If I'm to pick one key part of their conversation, it would be Bruce telling Selina that "you don't owe me anything... You never did," and Selina lighting up like a sun. This is final closure for all of their contrived excuses to spend time together, as Selina is now absolute sure that Bruce is there because he wants her.

The other major thing's the evolution of how they relate to each other wordlessly. In all that matters, their age difference has vanished, and for the first time in the show's history, their connection is borderline sexual. This episode also marks the first time Bruce actually teases Selina in a romantic fashion, pulling the old "pretend-kiss" trick, rather than the other way around, and that's a very amusing touch. Also, David's scenes with Cameron are damn well-acted, and for some reason I found the scene with Jerome terrorizing his uncle, with the grunts of the fight and Bruce basically flying all over the cafeteria in the background, hysterically funny.

... and then we have Barbara And The Ninjas, which is the figurative straw to break my camel's back.

I think what makes me most angry about this episode is how it somehow manages to push me, kicking and screaming, straight into the filthy arms of the MRA crowd. I don't want to be here. I have avoided to tackle this issue head on for the longest time. Maybe I'm a coward. All I know is I can't pretend anymore, and if that pisses people off, so be it.

Here we have what Ben McKenzie refers to as a "bit of a female empowerment storyline" about Barbara Kean ascending to the post of the First Female Demon's Head of the resurgent League of Shadows. We have the straw misogynist character of the captain challenging her authority and then we have - wait for it - all the women shooting all the men in the back because they are weak and weak men must die.

This whole scene is insanely cringe-worthy; whole slews of dialog seemingly just written to tick off a checklist. I actually fast-forwarded it at my first watching once I saw where it was headed, but then I had to steel myself and power it through for the review. One of the more plain-disgusting aspects of it all is how all men are murdered only after she's easily dispatched of the token male asshole and scared all the rest of them into crawling before her in fear, effectively tripling down on the punch with three perverted Girl Power triumphs in one single set.

This discourse is toxic, and it’s hard not to get toxic in return. This is what produces tumblr posts like this:

... and reddit threads like this:

That last one is a new one, isn't it?!

It's especially interesting how Gotham's subreddit, which contrary to public thought isn't normally a woman-hating hellhole, nevertheless responds positively to the thread in question, if contentious. Likewise how nobody seemingly will challenge the gross statement of the first post in the tumblr echo chamber.

There's a standing obsession in Hollywood with writing "strong female characters" - just look at the discourse behind and after 'The Last Jedi'. Obviously that's laudable, but this is most often "realized" by appealing to the basest, most shallow, most vulgar undercurrents of the liberal-bourgeoise, identitarian pseudo-left.

In short, Hollywood rarely writes "strong women" as in believable, complex characters that you can root for. They are far more on-the-nose about it. Maybe she can lift a really heavy object?? Mostly, though, the women are shown as being "strong" by effortlessly annihilating all men looking at them the wrong way, and ironically that makes them weaker characters.

Gotham has steadily slumped into this bankrupt black pit since the third season. In fact, you can probably date it back to when Bruno Heller lost all creative power over the show, with things now seemingly run-by-committee or possibly just by Danny Cannon.

For example, see the Bruce/Selina discourse. Now, first, their scenes are magic this episode, and I love, love, love them, but this narrative remains: Bruce struggles, while Selina just wins. I don't believe we've ever seen Selina with a mark on her face after a fight. That means that Bruce has character development in that department, while Selina's just an auto-win button to use as needed.

The scene with Bruce tackling the circus strongman is perfect. It is perfect just because it is tough. The dude is three times his size!!! Bruce doesn't even win, he's about to get choked to death, and then Selina just shows up the knight in shining armor with a whip and everything's roses. But the point is Bruce tries, he doesn't give up, and we get to see this evolution first-hand. We hardly ever get the same with poor Catgirl.

However, Gotham goes one step beyond the normal discourse by taking storylines that should have rightfully belonged to male characters and giving them to women as part of the "female empowerment" shtick, and this is where it hurts the show the most, as well as where we find out how the writing truly is at fault.

Just as the grudge match between Jim, Ozzie and Sofia would ideally have been symbolically resolved between those three characters - and if the lead protagonist were female, it would have; just imagine the outcry if Luke swoops in to save the day and murder Kilgrave in the Jessica Jones finale because last episode, Kevin kicked him in the nuts! - so too the "Demon's Head" storyline rightfully belongs to Bruce.

Ra's Al Ghul forced Bruce Wayne, his prince and chosen heir, to murder him in order to succeed him. This was the most potent and original development of early season four given massive attention through several episodes, and Gotham now cheats their viewers out of the juicy consequences of that story - which would go perfectly in line with the fallout of that act according to the established mythos - with Bruce suddenly thrust into the role of the leader of some weird supernatural villain army, by handing it all over to Barbara. 

I believe the reason this is happening is that Gotham doesn't bother to create believable grudge matches for their female characters to win, nor does the show care to craft the grand arcs that could make them earn these moments on their own merits. Unlike Bruce, who made the conscious choice to kill Ra's, Barbara didn't choose to come back to life, nor did she choose this power. Ra's was her Deus ex machina, and now she's a figurehead heeding his silent whispers. In summary it's an afterthought that doesn't even win the character any agency, plastered-on to win cheap representation points.

This type of writing hurts Gotham's core fanbase. A significant chunk of that are young-to-middle-aged men. They don't want to be belittled for the deplorable act of owning a penis, and they don't want to hear that they are all evil, weak, expendable and useless. They hear that all the time, both in news and in fiction, and it's not right that they should be demonized for a collective, historical sin. As much as I hate using the term, Gotham's been a "safe space."

It also hurts the women watching the show, in part by saddling them with poorly-developed psychopaths for role models and by indoctrinating them in the belief that "men are scum who are only out to get us", but I am choosing not to go into that overtly, as I've discussed some of this numerous times in the past.

This concludes my breakdown of the current gender discourse of Gotham. I verily don't want to have to write more about it, which is part of the reason I chose to go into such detail here. I'd much rather concentrate on good, relatable stories. 

Now we have Bruce and Jim both gearing up for the fight with Jerome, Jonathan and Jervis. We have Riddler and Penguin returning to the scene. Hell, I think we might even get some progression with Bruce and Selina. As has been the case all season, next episode could very well be fantastic. Gotham has that ability to surprise you with a spectacular home run now and again.

If not for one atrocious scene I'd rated this one highly, but in a way I guess it's worth banging your head on the table for five straight minutes to get the pleasure of forty good minutes of Gotham.

P.S. Aren't the screenshot edits spiffy? I got really pleased with them. D.S.

[outpostsofbabel]

Demigods and Semi-devils, Chapter V (IX)

The scroll described many exercises of the other meridians and acupoints, all aimed at helping the reader tap another person’s inner energies. Duan Yu went through these briefly, but felt that studying them would go against his principles and be rather greedy besides. So, he set them aside for the time being.

At the bottom of the scroll, the words “Light Steps Over the Waves” caught his eye. He called to mind several lines from the Ode to the Nymph of the Luo River:

She steps lightly across the waves,

Water droplets settle like dust on her silk stockings...

She turns and her eyes are full of life,

Her beautiful skin as fair as white jade.

She holds her words in her mouth, saying nothing,

With an air like a tranquil orchid.

So graceful and elegant is she,

That I completely forget myself.

These famous verses, written by Cao Zhi centuries ago, slowly unfurled in Duan Yu’s head.

She strikes a balance between plump and frail; 

The tall and short of her are perfectly proportioned, 

With shoulders shaped as if by carving, 

Waist slender as though bound with a cord; 

At her slim throat and curving neck 

The pale flesh lies open to view, 

No scented ointments overlaying it, 

No coat of leaden powder applied. 

Cloud-bank coiffure rising steeply, 

Long eyebrows delicately arched, 

Red lips that shed their light abroad, 

White teeth gleaming within, 

Bright eyes skilled at glances,

A dimple to round off the base of the cheek

Her rare form wonderfully enchanting, 

Her manner quiet, her pose demure. 

Gentle-hearted, broad of mind, 

She entrances with every word she speaks

Duan Yu thought of the fairy woman’s beautiful face and elegant posture - “as clear as the rosy light of dawn, as luminous as the lotus above the green waters”. To follow her bidding was the pinnacle of happiness on earth, and he felt as though he would gladly die a hundred deaths for her with no regrets. I will learn this Light Steps Across the Waves, he thought. After all, it is for running away, and not for killing people. Nothing but good can come out of its.

The scroll detailed the various steps for this technique, and also included the 64 hexagrams from the Book of Changes. He was familiar with this book, and had no trouble memorising them all. 

However, some of the steps listed in the scroll puzzled him deeply, for there seemed to be no logical way of smoothly moving from one stance to the next. Then, he realised the only way to do so was to perform a somersault in mid air. The scroll also instructed him to leap back and forth, as well as dodge and dart from side to side.

Part of Duan Yu’s scholarly mind loved the challenge of trying to solve a difficult puzzle, and derived great joy from finding the solution to a problem. So, one can find this sort of pleasure in martial arts as well, he thought. Indeed, it is no less than the enjoyment of studying books and memorising scriptures.

So it was that a day passed, with Duan Yu grasping about a quarter of what was in the scroll. After dinner, he continued practising his footwork before bed. Even at night, the names of the acupoints and meridians continued swimming hazily through his mind.

In the middle of the night, Duan Yu was suddenly awoken by a loud bellowing. It sounded like a cow, but much louder and more aggressive than any cow he had ever heard. The Boundless Mountain, he knew, was full of strange and dangerous beasts. So when the bellowing stopped, he thought nothing more of it. Putting his head down on the pillow, he tried to go back to sleep.

“It’s been a long time since we heard the Giant Crimson Bullfrog,” he heard a voice say outside. “I wonder if its cry tonight brings us good luck or ill.”

“Things can’t get much worse for us, can they?” another voice replied. “It’s more than enough to thank the gods for, if all of us in the Eastern Branch get home safe.”

Duan Yu recognised these as the voices of Yu Guangbiao and Wu Guangsheng. They had evidently taken up residence in the house next to his, in order to make sure he didn’t escape.

“You know, it’s not so bad that the Boundless Sword answers to Lingjiu Palace now,” Wu Guangsheng said. “Our freedom has been curtailed, yes. But we’ve gained a powerful backer as well. No, what really pisses me off is that the Western Branch is clearly inferior to us. So why did the Divine Messenger appoint Xin Shuangqing as master of the Boundless Cave? Even our own master has to answer to her now.”

“Well, every leader in Lingjiu Palace - from the Tianshan Tonglao downwards - is a woman. They say that no man is truly trustworthy,” Yu Guangbiao replied. “They say it was a kindly gesture of the Messenger to appoint Master Xin as our head, for now the Palace will look upon us with different eyes. Look how they treated Sikong Xuan. Why,  they were much kinder to our Master Xin.”

“Brother Yu, there’s something else I don’t understand. Why was the Divine Messenger so polite to that kid next door? All that ‘Young Master Duan’ stuff. It’s a bit too much, isn’t it?”

Hearing his name mentioned, Duan Yu listened harder than ever.

Yu Guangbiao laughed. “This stays between you and me, got it? Now, when a young lady calls a pretty boy like him ‘Young Master Duan’, all politely,” - he affected a nasal tone, imitating the Divine Messenger’s voice - “what do you think it means?”

“What?” said Wu Guangsheng loudly. “She fancies that pretty face?”

“Shh, don’t wake the pretty boy up! I’m not a divine roundworm in her divine belly, so how would I know what her divine thoughts are? But I believe Master Xin has seen it too. That’s why she told us to keep a close eye on him and make sure he doesn’t escape.”

“So how long are we keeping him?”

“You heard Messenger Fu just now. She said-” Here, Yu Guangbiao mimicked the woman’s voice again. “-take him down and if the Four Brigands kick up a fuss, tell them to take it up with me at the Misty Peak. And what were we to do after that? Nobody dared to ask her, of course. What if she sent orders to have the kid sent to Lingjiu Palace one day, but we’d taken him off and killed him or let him go? We would be in deep shit, I’ll tell you that.”

“So if she doesn’t say anything about him, we’re just supposed to keep him locked up here for his whole life, just in case she decides to drop by and say hi?”

“That’s about right, eh?”

Duan Yu was filled with alarm. Messenger Fu called me “young master” because she could see at a glance that I’m the educated sort, not because of any twisted rubbish you people have been thinking! You could shut me up until I’ve grown a long white beard and she still wouldn’t be interested in my face.

“So doesn’t that mean the both of us-” Duan Yu heard Wu Guangsheng say, but he was cut off by another three loud bellowing croaks from the bullfrog. The young man stopped talking instantly. After some time had passed with no further noise from the frog, he continued: “That creature’s croaking always gives me the creeps. Who knows how many souls Old Father Plague is about to reap now?”

“They say that he rides on the Giant Crimson Bullfrog,” Yu Guangbiao replied. “It’s all talk, of course. And the Lord of Wisdom rides a lion, and the Lord of Truth rides a white elephant, and the Grand Supreme Elderly Lord rides a green ox... This bullfrog is supposed to be the king of all venomous beasts, with great power. Its venom is legendary. Who knows if it really is the steed of the Lord of Plague?”

“What do you think it looks like?”

Yu Guangbiao chuckled. “What, you keen to have a look?”

Wu Guangsheng laughed too. “Nah. You can describe it to me after you’ve had a glimpse.”

“If I ever caught sight of it, its poisonous vapours would blind me in an instant. The fumes would so addle my brain that I’m afraid I would never be able to tell you what I’d seen. Tell you what, let’s both go look for it together.”

There followed the sound of footsteps, and Duan Yu heard someone lift the latch of the door.

“H-hey...quit messing around,” Wu Guangsheng said nervously. The latch rattled again. It sounded as though the younger man was securing the door.

Yu Guangbiao laughed again. “Hah, you thought I’d really have the guts to go searching for it? Look at you, trembling like a rabbit.”

“You shouldn’t jinx things by cracking jokes like that. Everything is fine now, so let’s just go to sleep.”

The other man changed the subject. “Hey, do you think that bloody pair - Gan Guanghao and Ge Guangpei - are actually going to get away with it?”

“No one’s seen or scented anything of them for days,” Wu Guangsheng replied. “So they really may.”

“Well, I’ve got a pretty good idea of what Gan Guanghao’s good at. First, he’s good at lazing around and flirting with people. Next, he’s good at being completely uninterested in improving his swordplay. And lastly, he’s good at charming women with honeyed words. They’ve been searching for him all over. Even the Messenger herself has been sent out. Could they really have given all these people the slip? I don’t believe.”

“You may not believe it, but it is what it is.”

“I bet the two of them must have made their way into the deep mountains and run into the Crimson Bullfrog.”

Wu Guangsheng made a little ‘Ah!’ sound.

“They must have fled to the most remote, wild country,” Yu Guangbiao continued. “When they saw the bullfrog, they were entirely overcome by its poisonous vapours and their bodies were reduced to two puddles of blood and pus. That’s why no one has found any trace of them yet.”

“That makes some sense, I guess.”

“Some sense?” Yu Guangbiao snapped. “Why, if they hadn’t run into the bullfrog, then the whole situation would make no sense at all!”

“Maybe they just couldn’t hold it in,” Wu Guangsheng suggested. “Maybe things started to get heated, deep in the high mountains. And then at night, while they were flopping around like carp, why, they flopped right off a cliff.” Both men started sniggering.

Mu Wanqing killed both Gan Guanghao and Ge Guangpei, back at that teahouse, Duan Yu thought. Surely the Boundless Sword can’t have missed that? The owner must have buried the bodies as quickly as he could, to avoid any trouble. None of the villagers would have dared to tell the Boundless Sword the truth, if they had come knocking as they usually do, bristling with weapons and with those fierce expressions on their faces.

“You know, it’s really not a big deal to have two disciples elope like that,” Wu Guangsheng said. “Like they say: ‘The eunuchs fret but the emperor remains calm.’ So why is the Messenger so desperate to find them and bring them back?”

“Use that brain of yours, and think about it,” his companion replied.

Wu Guangsheng was silent for a long time. “You know I’ve never been as sharp as you,” he said finally. “I can’t figure out what it’s all about.”

“Right, riddle me this: Why is Lingjiu Palace so keen on taking over our Wuliang Palace?”

“According to Brother Tang, it’s probably because of the Boundless Jade Cliff. When Messenger Fu first arrived, the first things she asked about were the shadows on the cliff and their swordplay, and that sort of thing. Wait, that’s it. We’ve all sworn not to reveal anything about that cliff to anyone. But Gan Guanghao and Ge Guangpei didn’t swear any such vow. If they were willing to betray their own clan, there’s no telling what other secrets they may spill.”

There was a loud smack, as though Wu Guangsheng had slapped his thigh in triumph. “Yes, that’s why Lingjiu Palace wants them dead!”

“Be quiet!” hissed Yu Guangbiao in a low voice. “There’s someone next door. Have you forgotten that?”

“Yes, yes,” Wu Guangsheng said hurriedly. He paused, then said: “That Gan Guanghao is one lucky bastard, isn’t he? He managed to get that soft, fair little body wrapped around his little finger and shear her like a little lamb. Shit, he may have been reduced to a bloody mass, but at least...ah.”

The two men continued in this vein, and try as he might, Duan Yu could not block out the sounds of their vulgar jests coming from next door. He set his mind to thinking about the meridians and acupoints listed Divine Art of the Northern Darkness instead. After some time, he was so deep in thought that even though the obscene conversation continued on, Duan Yu heard none of it at all.

[blueeyeswhitegarden]

Your opinion on the Synchro Arc

This turned out to be a really long answer, so I’ll put it under a cut here in a moment

I absolutely love the Synchro arc. While I honestly still have a hard time deciding my least favorite arc in Arc V, Synchro would pretty easily be my favorite. I absolutely loved the world building in that arc. Both the Standard and Synchro arcs had pretty solid world building. Being interested in the new setting helped to make me more invested in the arc right away. The whole conflict between the Commons and Tops was clearly based off of what happened in 5D’s, but they were able to do more with the concept to make it feel even more interesting. While the Tops were clearly more antagonistic, even the Commons were generally in favor of defeated duelists being tossed aside like garbage, so it wasn’t just a black/white issue exactly like what had been show before.

I really liked the character development shown within this arc. Yuya, Reira and Sora really stood out in that regard. Yuya struggled quite a bit with his dueling due to his self doubt. He wanted to end the war and stop conflict with his dueling, but he couldn’t if the audience refused to listen to him directly. His struggles felt really understandable not only because of his emotional problems, but also because he was away from his friends who would normally support him. Dealing with his problems primarily on his own would make it even harder on Yuya. I liked how they did address that he simply attempts to copy his father’s dueling and that there is an element of self-satisfaction by doing so. I loved how he became a more confident person and found his own way of dueling from his rematch with Jack. It was such a great message too. Instead of trying to disregard Yusho’s impact on his dueling, it was important for Yuya to learn how to find his own voice through Yusho’s influence. It was especially great to see Yuya still use dueling as a form of communication for the rest of the series because of his duel with Jack.

Reira surprised me so much during this arc. I wasn’t expecting much from him at first, but with his backstory and his determination to become stronger in order to help Reiji, he really became more interesting. I liked that even though he did become more confident as well, that didn’t instantly erase his trauma since that felt more realistic, especially when he’s so young. Sora’s redemption arc was handled really nice. I still kind of wish that we saw more of an internal struggle from Sora before jumping into help Tskikage, but what we did was good. Trying to simply save Yuya and Yuzu while still being loyal to Academia, apologizing to Tskikage after Yuzu talked to him and even struggling to admit that he was an alley instead of an enemy was really good. Shun’s development wasn’t handled as well in my opinion, but I liked that he finally found a friend in Crow and the connection seemed genuine enough for me to work decently.

I really liked how Jack and Crow were handled here. They were more like prominent supporting characters rather than taking up the spotlight from the Arc V cast. The story was still centered on them, but they were still important to the story too. Jack in particular was key with both Yuya and Reira’s development, Crow helped with Shun’s development and both of them becoming friends with Yuya was important in the long run. I was just worried when they first were announced to return that they’d take center stage, but that didn’t happen. I especially loved that they put in enough of their personalities to make them recognizable as Jack and Crow, while still recognizing that these are different versions of the characters in a different world from 5D’s. Crow seemed much less optimistic over the Tops and Commons situation than he was with Neo Domino City and Satellite, possibly due to how there wasn’t a Legendary D-Wheeler to inspire him in this universe. The fact that he was originally going to not keep his kids after feeding them also says a lot about how jaded this version of Crow was. Caring for kids has always been an important aspect of Crow’s character, so just considering not letting some orphans stay is a huge difference to 5D’s Crow. The contrast between the two versions of Jack is really interesting too. Arc V Jack got everything that 5D’s Jack ever wanted without abandoning his friends in the process and he was still miserable. He still craved for a challenge and without one, he was still the lonely King. That is immensely interesting to me and says a lot about what both versions of Jack really needed in the end.

There were so many good duels in this arc. Some of the standouts were Yuya vs. Tokumatsu, Yuzu vs. Tokumatsu, Yugo vs. Sawatari, Shun vs. Dennis, Yuya vs. Shinji, Crow vs. Shun, Yugo vs. Serena, Yuya vs. Crow, Jack vs. Sergey, Yuya vs. Jack and Reiji vs. Jean. There were so many good duels and they were really fun to watch. I could go on about how fantastic Yuya vs. Jack alone is, but this is already really long and I can gush about it even more for another post. The finale itself was so good not only for Reiji beating Jean, but the Fruithshipping moment to end all moments came from this arc. Seeing their reunion and both of them crying still gets me every time.

I know there were people complaining about the pacing, but I thought it was fine. It hit that sweet spot for me where it wasn’t too slow, but not too fast at the same time. Most episodes were important from a story and/or character perspective, so it didn’t feel like things could have been cut to make it significantly shorter. It was really important that we spent time in Synchro for character development, gaining some more allies that would prove key in the final arc and setting up even more for the remaining arcs of the series.

Now I know that the arc isn’t perfect. As important as it was for some of the characters to be isolated and it made sense in-universe as to why it happened, that did reduce the amount of character interactions we got for a good chuck of the arc. If people weren’t invested in the main conflict of the arc, that probably would have made it more challenging to be invested in it. As much as I love Reira and his development, I wish it didn’t happen at the expense of Serena with the whole nerve gas thing. Maybe it wouldn’t have been that bad if it didn’t last as long as it did. I didn’t mind the whole nerve gas thing as much at the time thinking that she’d show up in the next arc and it was the series recognizing that she was too powerful to be defeated in a fair duel. Knowing what I know now, I really wish that Serena was able to duel instead. She may have been captured anyway, but if she had to be captured then, I would have preferred seeing Serena go down in a blaze of glory. It would have had the side bonus of potentially establishing some kind of connection with Yuri, which would have been really nice.

Sorry for typing so much, but there’s a lot about this arc that I love and wanted to cover as much of it as possible. While it does have its fair share of flaws, it’s still a really good arc with solid character development, good duels and was really engaging for me to watch.

Thank you for asking. ^_^

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #148

UPDATE 148: Time to Wreck Everything

Hello everyone from a new apartment to start a new year! That’s why there were no updates these past days, I was moving here. Now that it’s progressing more or less smoothly I have time to do this! So let’s do it.

Last time John had gotten into Caliborn’s Homosuck story, where he has to bear with the very badly drawn characters and see them flop around like puppets. Caliborn is retelling Dave’s journey through Sburb and taking a few...artistic liberties. So let’s continue. Like before, I don’t know how much I’ll say about it.

I have no idea how John is riding a sticker but he is. Guess things like these are possible when the storytelling medium is as surreal as this one! He tries to control the horse but ends accidentally leading it to crash against the false Roxy...very slowly. That Roxy didn’t survive the crash. I’m sure the real Roxy would get a kick from imagining John crashing a flying badly-constructed horse against a fake Roxy, though. It’s such a ridiculous situation I’m sure she’d find it funny.

Caliborn kept Dirk’s tepid porn. I bet Dirk would be ironically flattered if he ever found out.

I don’t think any aliens in this story care about the anathema of incest, John. You’re going to have better luck if you break one of these fake people instead of getting in the way like that. In fact, please do. Break them. Save them from Caliborn’s narrative! In fact, he kinda does, but Caliborn just pours more of these ugly copies of Dave around until the screen is filled. And that’s it! That’s the end of Caliborn’s newest act. It’s back to Homestuck now.

The Condesce’s plans to complete the session and earn a universe is undergoing with the help of the controlled Jane and Jade. Jane is currently building up one of the houses, the tiara having the software needed for this task. She has enough grist for this? Maybe they’re already linked to the Gristtorrent from the Wonderkids’ session. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Meanwhile, in the golden battleship nearby, Gamzee is sleeping in the fridge. Hah! Is there any place he isn’t at? Those music boxes he took from Aradia make him pretty much be everywhere, anytime. It’s like what Lord English does, in fact, maybe he’s following Lord English’s orders.

He has the ring. Hah! I don’t think Gamzee has anyone he’d want to revive, right? Not unless he’s looking for the version of Caliborn from the doomed Calliope’s timeline. It’d be kind of a long shot, though. No, he’s actually being controlled by Vriska here. Guess she really was going to do anything to get that ring!

...alriiiiight, this isn’t what I expected! Maybe she found the doomed version of Calliope she was searching for, and is taking the ring for her instead than to the Calliope Roxy knows.

...nevermind! She took the ring. She’s resurrecting herself. She wants to be taken seriously and muses about needing a better repartee. Guess Vriska’s influence on Aranea was pretty nasty! I had reasons to be worried about that! Aranea doesn’t waste any time, immediately commanding Gamzee to wake up and going with him to the world of the living. What’re you planning, Aranea? What’s going on with you? This is actually pretty exciting! I never thought Aranea would get the ring for herself! What a way to start the final months of the Homestuck liveblog! Cool! Meenah seems to have sensed a disturbance in the ghost zone because she calls Aranea and demands an explanation. Aranea seems to have gone off the deep end, even asking to be called Mindfang. Technically that’s who she is, yeah.

ARANEA: Wheels are already in motion, Meenah.  ARANEA: Irons are heating up as we speak!  MEENAH: wheels  MEENAH: irons  MEENAH: aranea what 

That’s...that’s how Vriska talks. Did you assimilate Vriska into your ghostly essence or something, Aranea? Because, while I can’t say it came out of the blue, having been slightly foreshadowed if I remember right, it sure is a change I never expected!

Aranea is very frustrated everyone has been doing important and meaningful stuff, while she sits around and pays people to listen her talk. Heavily paraphrasing. She’s very frustrated and has decided to finally start doing something. What, exactly?  

ARANEA: I'm going to take over this session.  ARANEA: And then I am going to make sure it never 8ears fruit.  ARANEA: If I can stop this universe from 8eing cre8ted, then the young Lord of Time will never have hatched in the first place.  ARANEA: I won't merely 8e defeating an invinci8le foe. I will 8e erasing all the pain he has ever caused. 

...

...

...

...um, alright. Okay, I’m not Dave, I have no time powers, and honestly my level of understanding about time shenanigans is pretty much six feet underground, so to say, but wouldn’t this create a doomed timeline, at the very least? Lord English already exists. Everything he has done has shaped the actual moment. I’m pretty sure this plan won’t work. Aranea, please, this isn’t a good idea.

ARANEA: A doomed timeline is really just an anatomical feature of a much larger organism. Like a capillary which comes to an end, 8ecause it has withered and died.  ARANEA: I 8elieve I will 8e a8le to heal this offshoot.  ARANEA: And with enough time and patience, I am confident I can restore its vitality to such a gr8 extent, it will effectively take over as the alpha timeline, thus reducing English to a lost footnote of paradox space.  ARANEA: Then the new alpha timeline will flourish under my immortal care. I will watch over it for eternity, assuring peace and harmony everywhere. There will 8e a new progeny of universes, and those universes will 8eget more universes, and each will 8enefit from my good grace. I will personally make sure nothing like the English mishap ever occurs again. 

So basically Aranea is going to sabotage the session. How’s a new progeny of universes going to happen, though? If this session is destroyed, I’m pretty sure that’s it and everything is over. I mean, how many sessions are in this universe? This and no other ones, right? Any other session that may have existed from Earth must have failed long ago, with nothing Aranea can do about it. I think that, as much as Aranea thinks she’s being clever here, she’s overestimating herself way too much.

Meenah points that Aranea will have to fight a grown-up and very powerful version of Meenah, but Aranea isn’t worried at all about it. She knows Meenah very well, surely she’ll be able to do whatever’s needed to defeat her. Once again, you’re overestimating yourself too much, Aranea. It can’t be that easy.

Since Meenah doesn’t approve the plan – and says she’ll miss Aranea, which I’m partly sure is one of the reasons why she doesn’t like the plan – Aranea comments she bets Vriska would like it, but nope. Actually, Vriska doesn’t approve either, but Meenah doesn’t let her say what she thinks. That’s enough for Aranea, who cuts the conversation and decides to get her plan underway.

What to do with Gamzee? Aranea tests the situation by undoing the mind control for a moment. Gamzee...flips out. Wow, I thought he’d be calmer than this. Aranea puts him under mind control again. So, what’s the first step in the plan to sabotage this session? Aranea manages to use her control to command lots of Damaras to use their psychic powers to lift the battleship away. Oh, you so did that just for kicks, Aranea. If you have enough psychic power to control ghosts to get them to do this, then I’m sure that same psychic power would be more than enough to move the battleship yourself.

Jane was nearby when the battleship lifted away and immediately started to pursue it. Meanwhile, Meenah has contacted Karkaroni, maybe to tell him about Aranea’s plans? Karkaroni rambles for a moment, apparently having missed Meenah. The conversation itself isn’t seen, apparently. A shame, I’d have liked to see Karkaroni’s reaction.

The golden battleship went all the way to Derse. Going to see Roxy, perhaps? The matriorb isn’t essential for the creation of the new universe and the completion of the session, but if she manages to stop Roxy and ruin this part of the Condesce’s plan...no, I was wrong. Jake is the target here. He’s having erotic dreams with that Avatar movie character, Neytiri. Oh, fantastic, just what one needed to see. Thankfully, Aranea wakes Jake up before he can continue mumbling about this.

She informs Jake the plan has changed, that he won’t give Lord English his first defeat, and tells him that his game title is fearsome. Hope players have the potential to be immensely powerful, and Page players are rather powerful too once they get some experience underway. Sounds like an interesting combination, yeah.

ARANEA: I am here to shorten that journey for you.  ARANEA: And in return for this favor, you will serve my needs.

Say no, Jake. Resist your attraction to blue women!

Aranea says she can see what’s mentally stopping Jake from achieving this full potential, and while it’s sketchy and I’m not sure she’s telling the truth, it sounds about right. She offers to remove them, possibly with the same healing power she showed with Terezi. She’s...getting too close here. Way too close, and...and Jake isn’t exactly enjoying it either! Good, thank goodness, Jake. Thank you for this spark of sanity because let’s be honest: attraction or not, it’d be very weird and disquieting to accept her moves without protest.

ARANEA: What's the matter?!  JAKE: Stop! Please stop!  JAKE: Why does everyone want to kiss me all the time!  JAKE: What did i ever do to deserve this sort of attention!  JAKE: I dont know what you all see in me i just dont understand it! 

Wrong way to look at it, right reaction. Yeah, stop that, Aranea.

ARANEA: I'm sorry!  ARANEA: There! See?  ARANEA: I am respecting your personal 8oundaries. We don't have to kiss!  ARANEA: Good grief, that went poorly.  ARANEA: I only tried to kiss you 8ecause I knew you were attracted to me!  ARANEA: I thought I was doing you a FAVOR!  ARANEA: I don't know what I'm supposed to........  ARANEA: Sigh.  ARANEA: You really are a piece of work, Jake. Here I am, a literal mind reader, and I still can't figure you out.  ARANEA: 8ut you're right.  ARANEA: My advances were inappropri8te, and in the future I will try to 8e more respectful.

Good! Hah! At least she still has some standards. I don’t think she’ll just walk away if Jake refuses to let himself be healed, but at least she’s not going to forcibly kiss him. Good for respect of personal boundaries!

ARANEA: I'm still going to heal you though.

She says while placing her hand on Jake’s head as if it hadn’t happened. Guess she knew trying to convince Jake to let it happen was useless, so went straight to the healing without a word about it. Hm, you know, I’m wondering if after Jake achieves the extraordinaire power a Page of Hope would have, she’ll mind control him and force him to do her bidding. I’m sure she’d have no qualms with doing that, and it’d be thematic in some way: control the Harley-Egbert kids...except John, because right now he’s out of everyone’s reach.

Jade and Jane are observing the situation with the golden battleship in middle of Derse. Hah! She truly is still there, somewhere inside the evil and the wickedness! She thinks the Dersites are cute when writing citations. But yeah, Jade is a clever gal and knows that in times like this it’d be a good idea to check on the prisoners.

Jake has been healed and looks like he indeed has a lot of power! Derse is being torn apart, almost literally. A burst of white light erupts from the prison – damn, I hope Roxy wasn’t right there. That looks lethal.

I see the Hope symbol there, but that’s not the important part here.

Aren’t those angels? You know, like the ones that filled Eridan’s planet? I remember something vaguely; I think they had this shape. They’re strange things, destroying them gives pretty much nothing...so what’s up with the angels? I can’t even guess.

Good! Roxy wasn’t evaporated! Her room is filled with generic objects and horrid mixes between genetic objects and matriorbs. Given the strange situation outside, she takes it as her cue to get away, not staying in what could be a dangerous situation.

I’m not sure Aranea – again – though very well what she was doing. It doesn’t seem to me like Jake will be able to control these hope powers, so unless she starts mind-controlling Jake anytime soon, this may be more of a distraction to everyone than anything else. Or maybe that’s what she always intended, to create a distraction that simply couldn’t be ignored. Guess that’ll be seen once the next part of her plan starts!

But yeah, the whole thing with Aranea is a nice twist and I’m excited to see where it’ll go!

Next update: next time