#and i feel they would be able to perfectly capture how intimidating but proper the owl was in that book without over-exaggerating

[konakoro]

While I'm still a little bit soured from how the My Father's Dragon movie was generally handled in the tone/writing department, I genuinely believe that Cartoon Saloon could do an amazing adaption of the Tales from Dimwood Forest books

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Reviewing Adventure Time graphic novel: “Thunder Road”

 by Jeremy Sorese (Steven Universe comic writer) and Zachary Sterling (Adventure Time main comic artist)

Okay, so after purchasing and reading it today, I can safely say the DESCRIPTION of this graphic novel is ENTIRELY INCORRECT: 

Marceline starts feeling restless and comes across a motorcycle gang of storm clouds. Taking this as a chance to try something new, Marceline sets off on the open road with her new friends but things take a turn when she realizes that the storm clouds might be taking things a bit too far when it comes to their pranks. Marceline has to make a choice, to join in and create a natural disaster bigger than Ooo has ever seen or to go back to her boring quiet life--luckily, the answer comes from an unexpected source who just happened to be trailing the clouds...for research, of course.

No, nonono. This doesn’t even remotely resemble what happens. 

Actually, there is still a motorcycle gang, but this isn’t really a book about Marceline - it’s mostly about a drama with Bubblegum, and how she ends up taking her frustration out on Marceline. It’s about some difficulties they have communicating with each other, too. 

The Candy Kingdom is being flooded by non-stop rain. Jake is acting as a giant canopy to try and protect the castle, but it’s not working, and everything is falling apart - candy people are getting seriously injured, and it seems this has been going on for weeks. Everybody is exhausted, and things are looking dire. This was an eerily familiar situation for me, living in the RCT, which got demolished by flooding last February before the Corona crisis, and which is still recovering.  They’re all working together to solve this crisis, and PB is glad to see Marceline caring about other people. Marceline flies up in the sky and discovers a motorcycle gang is making the clouds rain down. 

PB is entirely at her wits end, she yells at the motorcycle gang, gets bullied by them, and decides to challenge them to a race. If she wins, they leave. If they win, then they will drive all over the Candy Kingdom and destroy it. Bubblegum gets incredibly angry at herself for making such a reckless bet, when she’ll have to race in the goddamn sky, and she insists this problem is her fault, so she needs to solve it by herself.

Marceline gets fed up that PB wants to solve it by herself and is pushing her away, so as a ploy of reverse psychology she says, “Fine, I WON’T help”, and flies away to investigate the gang further.

Bubblegum thinks Marcie has fucked off and ditched them. Marceline hasn't actually given up on her - she tries to perform some secret reconnaissance, befriending the gang and sabotaging their bikes. Marceline returns bits of cloud to the kingdom as well, to a still-bitter PB who won’t thank her.  However, things turn for the worse when the biker gang discover the bikes were damaged, and they confront PB about the sabotage, with Marceline's life possibly on the line.

Thankfully, the gang let Marceline go. Bubblegum proper goes off on Marceline for not trusting her to be able to do things by herself, while Marceline says that she should have just accepted help in the first place. They have a falling out. Marceline is upset that PB keeps taking out her anger on her, and lashes out a bit, tells PB this is her fault so she’s on her own. 

Shenanigans ensue. After a tense and highly dangerous bike race, Bubblegum manages to scrape a victory - without Marceline’s help - due to electromagnetic shenanigans with her cloud bike’s fuel tank.

I don’t want to post images of the race, because it has some awesome moments that I want you to see for yourself in the novel. 

However, she realises she had accidentally cheated, and apologises to Marceline for taking everything out on her earlier - she says that it shouldn’t be that way, that she shouldn’t just get mad at Marceline whenever she’s stressed.   

She tells Marcie that she doesn't want to treat her like shit every time she has a bad day.

They have a motorbike race. PB forgets Marceline can fly, and drives off a cliff to save her. Marceline ends up saving PB. Lots of cute moments. 

It turns out, also, that PB has become a bit of a legend in the sky biker community. 

[EDIT: I just realised the jackets say “We Talked It Out”! They’re proud that they were able to have a conversation about their problems! Awwwww]

So, this comic seems to take place during season 6. Most likely between The Cooler and Hot Diggety Doom - when PB is still kind of hyper-aggro and overworked, but is trying to cool down, and when Marceline hasn’t learnt how to communicate properly with her.   At the same time, the stakes are high enough that it does make sense for the characters to behave in this way at ANY time after Sky Witch, provided it’s not after the series finale.    Finn, notably, still has his right arm. He doesn’t pick up a sword. If he did, I might have been able to directly tell where this fit in the show’s continuity.  

Anyway, it’s outstanding. Easily the best of the Adventure Time graphic novels I’ve read. What I loved is how tense the situation really felt, how the emotions the characters were feeling were extensions of what they would feel if this happened in the show. It didn’t feel out of character for PB to be breaking down and acting like a tool, or for Marceline to be secretive and indirect, and then lash out a bit when PB hurts her. It was an awesome character study on their relationship and how it could have its toxic moments.   The situation seemed genuinely dire. The biker gang were genuinely hateable and intimidating. The threat they made to the characters felt real, which is rare for this show. And the emotional moments hit me hard.  It works super well after watching Obsidian, wherein you saw PB in the past take her anger out on Marcie and how that contributed to their breakup. 

It also has Marcie and PB racing around on motorbikes, which is funny because that's what they did in Obsidian.

You can tell that Jeremy Sorese did work on SU comic stuff, because he does a good job at capturing those brief emotions, those epic moments, that SU did so well. This comic is also more dramatic than the usual AT flare. 

The art is okay. It is in graphic novel format, and it’s meant to look a lot like the show. It is nice and colourful. It is clean, and sells emotions perfectly fine. However, Zachary Sterling has historically had issues drawing the arms of the characters - he makes them look far too much like stiff bendy tubes, when they are more free-form and can bend at full right-angles in the show. I feel like he was trying to stay too on-model, and didn’t take his art to its full potential. Some panels are also recycled and slightly edited. 

8/10 - A good read for fans of PB and Marcy, a plot with convincing tension from the first page, with an interesting character study on how PB’s stress can cause her to hurt the people closest to her and she needs to manage that.  However, the description on the back of the book is entirely incorrect for no reason. Well worth the £11 I spent to get a paperback copy sent today. 

You can buy a copy on Amazon for same day delivery. You used to be able to buy a copy on Comixology, but for some reason, it’s been removed. 

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 14: Haunt - No Vacancy

Danny’s a protective guy, and an especially protective ghost. There’s no way he’d let someone potentially genuinely dangerous stay in his town. His ghost side especially won’t.

Danny knows what he has to do with this situation, he doesn’t like it, but it has to be done. It’s his job and this is his home, so he’ll handle it. Sighing, steeling himself, and phasing through the classroom door. Watching the teacher grading papers for a small while, “why are you here?”.

She doesn’t look up to him, “I’m grading papers. No I haven’t gotten to yours yet”.

Danny narrows his eyes slightly, “that’s not what I mean, and I know you’re aware of that”. So far things haven’t gotten violent and she wasn’t yelling or freaking out, so he feels slightly justified in hoping this goes well.

She sighs and looks to him, “and why can’t I be here? What? Do you think you get to pick and chose who’s allowed to be here?”, and bares her teeth at him slightly. Well... there goes being completely non-confrontational.

Danny crosses his arms, “actually yeah, yeah I do. I don’t know if you remember this or not, but I protect this town. Have for years. And I definitely do not let anyone I think might be even slightly dangerous stay here. Visiting is one thing. Passing through. Tourism. But that’s clearly not what you’re doing here. Considering”, uncrossing his arms to point at the stack of homework and recrossing them. He’s not going to give her an inch, considering how easily taken advantage of doing that could make someone. And protecting his town, his lair, his haunt, isn’t something he’s about to compromise because someone else has issues with it. Ghost or human.

She stands up with a scowl, clearly attempting to make him feel small by looming over him. He just floats higher of course which makes her scowl deepen. He knows doing that makes it clear he isn’t intimidated or interested in backing down. “I am doing my job. What I’m meant to do-”.

Danny cuts her off, “then do it somewhere else. Someplace meant for you”, and hoping his meaning will clue her in, put ideas in her head and draw her away. Whatever it takes to get her gone without getting physical or violent.

She practically roars at him, “NO. This is my classroom and has been longer than you’ve been in this town, Phantom. How about you get out of my classroom”, and moves to swipe at him.

Danny sighs, uncrossing his arms to catch her wrist. Of course she was genuinely attached. She wasn’t just here out of familiarity. But still. “You’re weak. Newly formed. This isn’t a fight you can win. And this classroom is part of what’s mine, and has been long before you formed. You do not have claim, I do”, and pulls her wrist making her smack into the whiteboard; clearly she doesn’t have a grasp on her abilities yet. Expected but it does make this easier. Driving off the young was much easier. He does feel slightly bad, but his feelings change nothing. Turning in the air to look down at her, “look, I get it. But this’ll hurt less the sooner you leave. The Realms will form you a perfectly fine lair”.

She snarls at him, eyes flashing orange, “I don’t want that. I already have what’s mine. I already have my lair. Now get out!”, and lunges at him again; Danny simply going intangible and grabbing her back as she passes through him, pinning her to the ground.

Danny sits cross-legged on her back, her snarling and trying to scratch at him all the while, “you can’t form a lair in someone else’s. That’s not how things work. Especially not with me. If you were stronger maybe, but you're not. In this situation, I am a wolf and you are a little pinned baby rabbit. I am giving you the option to leave. I am being nice. Normally I’d just capture you-”, readjusting to avoid her arm as she clearly is starting to get a handle on body manipulation, “-but you haven’t connected to the Realms proper yet. You haven’t formed an actual lair there. You’ll be destroyed if I capture you. Even I have a lair there, it’s not so bad”.

She sneers and snarls at him, trying to push up off the ground but unable to, “then why don’t you screw off to the Realms and leave me alone!”.

“Because here’s my primary lair and I have no reason to leave it. Even if that wasn’t the case, I am the stronger older one here. And I have more claim to any section of the Mortal Realm than any other ghost”, sighing and adding off-handedly, trying to keep a handle on his aggression, “except Wisconsin, but if you want to fight with the ghost whose lair is there, be my guest. He won’t hesitate to destroy you. Eat you”. He wants her to get that that is a serious threat. She is not staying. He is not allowing that. She is nothing short of lucky that his halfa status gives him better control over his ghostly nature. Otherwise, he probably would have already torn her to shreds.

She turns her head around, “I am not moving my haunt, now get OFF!”, and tries biting his knee, he goes intangible but her teeth connect anyway. Her smug look disappears when he doesn’t so much as wince.

Danny forcibly phases his fingers through her teeth, easily overwhelming her energy that’s trying to fight him, and pries her mouth open and off him. She’s starting to get on his nerves and poking at his protectiveness; and his possessiveness, “lady, you are not staying here”, leaning his mouth closer to her ear and pressing her into the floor a bit harder, “you will leave. I do not care if you want to claim this school or even this single classroom as yours. It is not yours. It will never be yours. You are in my haunt, my lair, without my permission and you will get out or I will eat you”, pressing her down a little more and flaring his eyes, “let me reiterate. If you do not leave. If you do not go to the Realms. If you even try to stay here. In my lair. Around my humans. Within what I haunt. I. Will. Eat. YOU”, his pitch rising and reverberating enough to shake the walls.

He can feel and see her watching his teeth as he snarls at her, making sure every single one of his fangs is on display. “You are a child ghost, but that does not change that you are a threat to what’s mine. GET OUT”.

She claws at the ground a little before whimpering when his energy nips at hers for a little added encouragement. Though if he’s being honest with himself, he hadn’t done that entirely intentionally. Her glancing at the desk, “can I... finish marking first”, and whimpers again when he presses down on her again.

Him snarling, “NO. You lost that chance”. He immediately chomps on part of the ecto-energy that makes up her hair and tears it off when she starts up protesting him again, “but-“. So long as she hasn’t connected to the Realms proper she won’t be able to reform or replenish her ectoplasm and energy. And he knows on a primal level that she can sense that just the same as him. That makes her prey to him, and he twitches harshly from trying to not act on that predatory feeling.

“GET OUT. NOW”. Grabbing her head and roughly forcing her to look at him, her ectoplasm splattered and smeared on his face will hopefully be enough.

“I- okay”, her voice is a little shaky, “okay. I’ll- I’ll go. Just... get off me and- and don’t take anymore”, the last bit coming out almost pleading.

He frowns, teeth still bared. Shoving her head to get out a bit of aggression before pushing himself to sit up on her back again, watching her, “give me a second. But if you move, I will bite you again”. He needs to calm down, or he’s going to lunge at her the second she starts moving around.

“Okay”. He feels slightly bad but also unpleasantly pleased over how pathetic that sounded. He had asserted his dominance and ownership, and she had bent a knee.

She seems to regain a bit of her confidence while he’s sitting there breathing, “will the lair the Realms forms me be like... here”. He can feel the struggle there to avoid calling ‘here’ her lair; which he’s certain he would have harmed her for.

“It will be exactly as you need it to be. What will let you satisfy your Obsession perfectly. That’s how Ghost Realm lairs work. It may resemble here. May. But I make no guarantees”.

“Does... yours there have somewhere that resembles here”.

Danny sighs, he knows she’s not asking to move to his Ghost Realm lair. She’s asking if it looks like Amity, his Mortal Realm lair. “I am different. My lairs fulfill different needs. We aren’t comparable”.

She snaps at him, “why the Hell not”, which he pushes on her back for.

Snarling slightly, “because you’re a normal ghost. I am not. The one I have there was conquered from another ghost who was ultimately weaker than me and threatened my lair”, sighing and breathing, “unlike you, the Realms will not form me a lair. And Mortal Realm lairs do not reform, if it were not for my conquered one then if this one were to get destroyed then I would be without a lair. Hauntless. Understand?”. He knows that was part of the reason for his overprotectiveness, the fact that his Obsession was protection only exacerbated that.

She stares off into space a little before shivering, obviously picturing what it would be like to simply not have a haunt. “Oh”.

Danny snarks a little, feeling a little more like himself, “yeah. ‘Oh’”. Shifting a little before pushing himself to float up off her. Her eyeing his hand as he holds it out to her and she turns over to sit up, cautiously standing. He sighs at her paranoia, understandable as it was, “you’ve agreed to leave. So I’ll help you to do that. The way from here to there lies with ghost hunters. It’s not the safest trip”. Continuing when she glances at herself, she was a rather human-looking ghost, “they have equipment that can tell”.

Thankfully she takes his hand, him transferring over enough energy to her for her to float and to turn her invisible and intangible. Her looking mystified as he pulls them up through the ceiling. That manages to get a bit of a smile on his face as he flies them off to FentonWorks, child ghosts could be cute; especially newly formed ones.

Danny parks her on the roof, “stay. Or else”, flashing green stained fangs for emphasis, and phases inside to check that his parents are gone. He’s very thankful they are. He can’t deal with them right now.

Floating back up, pleased she’s stayed put instead of making a run for it. He must have given her a decent scare then. Her taking his hand again without prompting this time and them heading to the lab.

He leaves her standing in front of the portal as he goes to active it, the doors clanging open and bathing the room in a toxic green glow. She fiddles with her fingers and glances to him, “do I have to?”.

Danny glares and hisses slightly, “yes”, and licks off a bit of the ectoplasm from his face.

“Will it hurt?”. He softens at that and shakes his head, sticking his arm through, “no. Don’t worry. I and plenty others pass through here all the time. And you’re not the first newly formed I’ve had to give the boot”, Sam and Tucker had asked the same before their first trip.

She nods and swallows a little, still practicing the lingering habits she had as one of the living. “I... thanks for not eating me”.

“Don’t mention it. But you can repay me by leaving”. Thankfully that’s enough prompting for her to walk through on her own.

Danny sticks his head through purely to check on her after wiping of his mouth properly, grinning at the Ghost Realms ectoplasm wrapping around her and pulling on her, urging her towards the lair that was already forming. At least things go right and she can feel the pull properly, clearly wants to follow. Turning her head to him, “I think this time I actually mean it, but thanks”.

Danny chuckles, “expected. Ghosts aren’t supposed to have lairs amongst the living. It’s unnatural. A haunt maybe, but not a haunt that’s a genuine lair”.

“Then what’s so special about you?”.

“Ah that’s simple. I’m still alive”, and pulls his head back through the portal. She'll hear about halfas soon enough. For now, she’s got a lair to focus on and he’s got his to get back to guarding.

End.

[carewyncromwell]

Anybody want some more POTC AU? Well, this time we’re getting some focus on our Davy Jones (Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws, based on this concept) and our Commodore “Carey Weasley” (Carewyn Cromwell)! In the original films, their respective roles are on opposite sides of the fence (hell, Davy Jones kills Norrington in the movies damnitDisneyNorringtondeservedbetter >>), and even in this AU, Davy!Finn has some history with Carewyn’s brother Jacob...so how will they interact, when they collide? We’ll just have to wait and see...

17th-18th century pirate ships were -- in a bizarre way -- tiny, floating representative democracies, about 50-60 years before the American Revolution. In a world where nearly all European countries were run by kings chosen by “divine right” and one could usually only “rise above their station” through fighting in wars or through marrying someone of a higher class, pirate ships operated under the idea of “one man, one vote” and their captains both were chosen by popular vote and could be replaced at any time, oftentimes rather peacefully. The Age of Enlightenment sparked by thinkers like John Locke started in the midst of the Golden Age of Piracy and really kicked off as soon as it was over, circa 1730. Those same ideas ended up inspiring both the American and French Revolutions in the later 18th and early 19th centuries...so yeah, in a weird way, you could draw a direct connection between the values and grievances against the monarchy expressed by pirates to the ones expressed by America’s Founding Fathers and the figures of the French Revolution!

Previous part is here, whole tag is here...and I hope y’all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

When the Flying Dutchman returned from Tortuga, the brig was stuffed to the brim with about two hundred prisoners -- and yet, even with that, Cutler Beckett was not pleased. None of those captured were particularly well-known or wanted pirates: instead the group largely consisted of retired pirates, pirates’ families, or other such refugees from the law who hadn’t committed any crimes except through association.

“The pirates refused to be taken alive, Beckett,” spat Jones impatiently. “All of the ones we captured fought to the death rather than be imprisoned.”

“Admirable excuse, Jones,” said Beckett airily, “but at present, we need prisoners to interrogate -- and although you may be comfortable dealing with dead men, they don’t do much good for us that way. Unless you can give us the location of Shipwreck Cove yourself?���

Jones’s eyes flashed dangerously. Alas, he couldn’t answer that question -- and so Beckett railroaded him.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that you need some oversight, Jones -- so from now on, Commodore Weasley and my associate, Patricia Rakepick, will remain on board the Dutchman...just to make sure things run smoothly.”

Jones watched as a line of soldiers escorted the Dead Man’s Chest on board his ship. He had felt the presence of his heart earlier, but it being so close made his chest feel like it was on fire, blazing with wild, storm-like emotions he hadn’t felt in years that made him want to hit something, scream in pain, and burst into tears all at the same time. It was agony, after so long, and it made Jones whirl on Beckett with a murderous expression.

“I will not have that thing on my ship!” he snarled.

“Perhaps you will not, but I will,” said Beckett.

He glanced at Rakepick. “Did the key Jones handed over work?”

Rakepick dangled the key to the Chest off of her finger with a smirk. “Aye -- I checked it before we brought it over.”

“Good.”

Beckett returned his gaze to Jones.

“From here on out, you shall answer to the Commodore and Madam Rakepick for your orders -- all orders, naturally, that come directly from me. Should you not, they will have the authority to discipline any misbehavior.”

Jones’s gaze flickered over Rakepick and then over to the shorter Navy-dressed officer standing perfectly straight beside her.

The Commodore -- yes. This was the one called “Carey Weasley” -- Black Jack Roberts’s younger sister and, as per Jones’s deal with Jack, his future crew member, Carewyn Cromwell. She truly didn’t resemble her brother much at all, Jones thought: it was little wonder no one had made a connection between her and the infamous captain of the Tower Raven. And Jones thought, it was irony at its finest, the thought that one of the people Beckett was using to restrain him was in fact destined to scrape before him instead, within the next two months.

Jones’s gaze returned to Beckett pretty quickly. He snapped his claw at his side as he loomed over the much smaller man.

“The Flying Dutchman sails as its captain commands,” he said fiercely.

“And its captain will sail it as he is commanded!” Beckett shot back, his usually detached and arrogant voice betraying some real aggression for the first time.

Jones’s crew muttered among themselves, both shocked and a bit intimidated. The leader of the East India Trading Company took several steps forward, his eyes boring into Jones with pure contempt.

“I already disposed of your pet,” he said softly. “I would hate to have to also dispose of you so quickly, when you might still have some use.”

Despite saying this, it was clear that Beckett felt no compassion for Jones’s life at all.

“This is no longer your world, Jones. There’s no place in this new world of ours for the immaterial. In short, the immaterial...has become immaterial. Best you learn that quickly, and fill the new role you’ve been dealt.”

Jones loathed having the two red-haired women and their battalion of Navy soldiers aboard. Although a lot of the time neither of them spoke to him, he hated having their eyes on his back and hated knowing that they as agents of Beckett’s were there to be his “leash.”

Rakepick flaunted her authority noticeably more than Carewyn did, dictating their course and openly contradicting Jones’s orders. About the only time Carewyn seemed to speak up was in response to the treatment of prisoners -- while the Flying Dutchman sailed back toward Port Royal, the Commodore frequently checked on the condition of the prisoners in the brig. One of Jones’s sailors even reported to him that he’d seen her bringing one of them a Bible on request. It was odd, considering that every single one of those prisoners was going to hang as soon as they arrived in Port Royal, unless they had “valuable information” to give. Unfortunately the only valuable information that Beckett wanted were the identities of all seven Pirate Lords, the significance of their “Pieces of Eight,” and the location of Shipwreck Cove, the last secret pirate haven on Earth -- and, to every prisoner’s credit, if any of them did know the answers to those questions, they refused to say...perhaps because they knew that it’d be the place the pirates who were able to escape the Dutchman’s attack would go.

Carewyn escorted the prisoners on shore to Port Royal, while Rakepick stayed behind with the troops aboard the Flying Dutchman. When she arrived, she met up with Percy, who had been in charge of the fort in her absence. The hangings started the very next day. A long, long line of prisoners all locked in irons pooled out of the brig and were walked one by one closer to the gallows. In groups of seven, they were sent up to the hangman’s noose -- men, women, even children -- all without trial and without any chance for mercy...all thanks to Lord Beckett, and by extension the King of England who had given him that power. It broke Carewyn’s heart standing on the sidelines with Percy, unable to do a thing to stop it.

Cutler Beckett arrived in Port Royal in the midst of the executions, looking incredibly smug. It took everything in Carewyn to not yank out her pistol and stick in his disgusting, weasel-like face...especially when he brought her and Percy away from the gallows to speak to them privately.

“I admit, Commodore...your plan has not produced the intelligence I wished for,” said Beckett as he considered the map in front of him. Once again, he was playing with a silver piece of eight absently in his right hand. “But it has been a very effective showcase of the British Empire’s new position on piracy. My proclamation would’ve lacked the proper teeth, without such a visible display.”

‘You’re despicable,’ Carewyn thought, hatred pulsing through her heart as a tiny boy was placed up on a barrel at the gallows.

“Thank you, sir,” she said lowly.

Percy glanced at the gallows too, and he winced at the sight of the boy standing on the barrel.

“It’s unfortunate that the information they offered was not useful to you, Lord Beckett,” he said, his voice betraying some hesitance. “I thought that the locations the boy provided for where the Dennis and the Andromeda make berth and the routes the Blackbird uses to plunder ships seemed promising...”

“You think too small, Captain,” said Beckett.

There was a rather arrogant gleam in his eye as he glanced from Percy to Carewyn, the piece of eight lingering between his pointer and middle finger.

“Chasing pirates one at a time would take up more resources and time than I have a desire to use. What I want is to bring order to this world -- and to do that, all pirates must be dealt with...either by being brought into line to serve our interests, or by being disposed of. And to do that, the pirates’ spirit must be decisively crushed.”

He glanced at the piece of eight between his fingers.

“...How much do you two know about the Pirate Brethren Court?”

Percy turned to Carewyn. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“I’ve heard of it, but I’m afraid I don’t know much.”

That was a bald-faced lie. Charles Cromwell himself had been one of the original Pirate Lords ages ago, before the curse no doubt interfered with his old duties and the Mediterranean was taken over by someone else.

“They are -- from what I understand -- representatives, who only gather whenever pirates as a whole need united leadership,” said Beckett. “They are a Parliament for piracy -- one that selects a ‘King’ to represent them all, in times of crisis.”

Percy frowned in confusion. “A King chosen by the people? I’ve never heard of such a thing...”

“Pirates do not believe in divine right,” Carewyn explained. “Even when it comes to their captains, the crew can vote to replace them at any time.”

Percy turned to Beckett. “...Then do you think the pirates will attempt to convene this ‘Brethren Court,’ in response to the attack on Tortuga?”

‘That’s definitely what I hope...’ Carewyn thought to herself.

Beckett nodded. “I am assured of it.”

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away, back up to the line of chained prisoners still being forced up onto the gallows.

“If they were to convene this ‘Court’ of theirs and select a King, my Lord,” she said softly, “it sounds like they could be a greater threat than ever. Individual pirates might be more expensive to chase one at a time...but if they were somehow able to unite, they could create a formidable army.”

Beckett raised his eyebrows. “I did not think you would fear a War, Commodore.”

“Not at all,” said Carewyn. “If the British Navy could stand toe to toe with the Spanish and French, we should more than be a match for a smattering of rag-tag galleons -- especially with the funding of the East India Trading Company behind us...”

Her eyes narrowed a bit more as they swiveled over to Beckett’s face.

“...But...if you were to advocate such a mission, you’d be at the head of the charge for it. Its success or failure would rest on your head more than any of ours...regardless of any efforts we might make to protect your reputation.”

Beckett’s lips curled up in a smile that held no warmth.

“Your concern is appreciated, Commodore Weasley,” he said, and his eyes seemed to gleam upon her. “But I assure you...I’ve waited long enough, to get the revenge I’m owed...”

He turned his focus to the piece of eight coin in his hand.

“After the injuries I’ve sustained, thanks to one of these ‘Pirate Lords,’” he said in a very soft, cold voice, “I have no intention of letting them live in peace. Wherever they decide to make their final stand...I shall be there to meet and destroy them.”

He slammed the coin down into the table with a slap of his hand, making both Carewyn and Percy flinch despite themselves.

After the hangings were complete, Carewyn returned to the Flying Dutchman, once again leaving Percy in Port Royal. The youngest Weasley brother was troubled by the thought of Carewyn being on board Jones’s ship, and she tried to reassure him as best as she was able.

“Captain Jones has to follow Lord Beckett’s orders just as much as we do,” she said softly. “Regardless of who he is, he’s been impressed into our service...it wouldn’t be in his best interest, to fight against that.”

Percy, however, didn’t look very reassured. His gaze kept flickering up to the Dutchman, even though he tried hard to look Carewyn in the face.

The Commodore offered her surrogate younger brother a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” she reassured him gently.

Percy stared at Carewyn for a long moment, his brown eyes dark with emotion. Then, very abruptly, he actually threw out his arms, grabbing hold of her and pulling her into a full hug.

“Percy?” said Carewyn, completely taken aback.

Percy didn’t say anything -- instead he just gave her a squeeze, his chin resting on her shoulder. Although he was facing away from her, Carewyn could hear a faint shakiness in the breath he took.

“Come back safely,” he mumbled, his voice harsher than normal as he tried to keep his composure. “You hear me? Come back just as you are now.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes filled with pain as she realized what was going through Percy’s head. Yes, he was scared for her safety, but it wasn’t just because he cared about her -- it was also because, with the loss of Charlie and Bill, his real brothers...she was the only family Percy had left, here in Port Royal. The only sibling he could rely on, for emotional support.

Her heart filling with compassion and affection for the young Captain, she brought her arms around Percy tightly in return, resting a hand on the back of his head and cradling it as though she were his mother.

“We will see each other again soon, Perce,” she murmured in his ear. ���I promise.”

After she and Percy parted ways, Rakepick met Carewyn at the top of the ramp heading up to the deck of the Flying Dutchman. The older woman gave Carewyn another long, analytical look as she came up on deck, which Carewyn returned with a much shorter, faintly suspicious look. She didn’t like how Rakepick looked at her. It just made Carewyn feel like she knew something...but Carewyn frankly had no idea what that “something” was. One thing Carewyn did take note of, however, was the chain she wore around her neck and tucked under the low collar of her red jacket -- the chain that no doubt held the key to the Dead Man’s Chest.

That night, after all of the officers went to sleep, Carewyn entered the Dutchman’s captain’s cabin and ordered one of her lieutenants to send Davy Jones to her. Jones was not pleased to be summoned to his own cabin, least of all by the Commodore Beckett assigned to “watch” him.

“I cannot be called like some mongrel pup,” he snapped.

“Yet you came,” said Carewyn coolly. “I appreciate the promptness.”

Jones looked incredibly surly. The ginger-haired Commodore looked at her lieutenant, who was trying hard not to cower in Jones’s shadow.

“Go ahead and return to your patrol down below with the Chest, Lieutenant,” she told him. “I’ll take it from here.”

The scared young man gave a salute and then quickly left the room. Once the door was closed, Carewyn turned up at Jones with a much grimmer look on her face, her arms crossed behind her back in standard “Naval” fashion.

“...Captain Jones...Lord Beckett has ordered that we seek out Shipwreck Cove.”

Jones’s lip curled. “I believe I’ve already made it clear that I don’t know where the damned Brethren Court meets.”

“I know you don’t. And I’m glad for it.”

Jones’s eyebrows knit together suspiciously. Carewyn’s eyes flickered absently over to the door as she listened for a moment to make absolutely sure no one was listening it.

“...I don’t want Beckett to find Shipwreck Cove,” she said lowly. “I don’t want him to send Navy ships after us once we’ve found it and destroy it. Just as I frankly don’t want you under Beckett’s rule at all.”

Jones gave a loud snort. “Haha! And I suppose this is all out of the goodness of your heart, this...sympathy you deign to spare such a pathetic wretch as me?”

His eyes hardened as he bore down on her, dwarfing her with his height.

“I don’t need your pity, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said very coldly.

Carewyn was visibly taken aback.

“Oh, aye,” said Jones with a smirk, “I know your name. A ferryman of the damned knows everyone’s true names.”

Despite how taken aback and faintly disconcerted Carewyn was, however, she didn’t seem intimidated. Instead she kept her posture straight and tall and looked Jones straight in the eye.

“Then you know why I don’t want Beckett to succeed,” she said seriously. “A lot of people I love are probably on their way to Shipwreck Cove right now. As much as I know a battle will be imminent, I want them to initiate it. I don’t want Beckett to get there before they’re ready.”

“So you aim to make a deal with me, then, Miss Commodore?” asked Jones, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“No,” said Carewyn firmly. “I just want to set you free.”

Now it was Davy Jones’s turn to look startled.

“I don’t believe in anyone being impressed into service against their will -- least of all by a captor as cruel and despicable as Cutler Beckett,” the Commodore said, feeling glad to finally let loose her bile a bit. “And if getting your heart back to you so that you can do as you please makes it that much harder for Beckett to destroy Shipwreck Cove...all the better.”

“Ah...so you think to trade my assurance that I won’t attack Shipwreck Cove for your services,” said Jones coolly. “Well, I hate to break it to you -- but I have no love for the Brethren Court myself, since they took all ownership of the seas for themselves. I daresay your dear granddaddy told you all about that...”

“‘The seas be ours and by the powers, where we will, we’ll roam’ -- yes, I know the song,” said Carewyn. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m not asking you to help the Brethren Court. I’m not asking you to help me with anything. I plan to set you free whether you want to be nice to me or not.”

Jones’s eyes narrowed as they flickered over Carewyn’s face, analyzing her critically. At last he raised his claw the way a man might raise a hand, but its size made it so it came within inches of her face.

“...Let me make sure I have this right, missie,” he said lowly. “You’re offering your assistance in restoring my heart to me...without making any sort of deal with me that benefits you?”

Carewyn nodded, not flinching at all in response to Jones’s claw getting into her personal space.

“Because you being free helps me, as it is -- by making things harder for Beckett.”

Jones considered Carewyn for a long moment. Whatever he had been expecting from the sister of Black Jack Roberts, it certainly wasn’t this. Even from a sanctimonious Navy officer, he didn’t expect this level of...well, for lack of a better word, decency...especially for someone who had showed her no kindness and she owed absolutely nothing to. He never would’ve admitted it aloud...but it impressed him.

‘Seems a bit of a shame that such a decent person should be fated for a lifetime of service aboard my ship,’ Jones thought to himself.

Perhaps because his heart was so close to him, the thought made some reluctance and guilt pick at the inside of his chest.

Pushing the feeling aside, the captain of the damned lowered his claw again. Then very, very slowly his tentacled face spread into a fuller, brighter smirk.

“...What do you have in mind?”

[retorioworld]

The One-Stop, Interview Prep-Shop for Video Interview

If you’ve ever wanted a one-stop, interview prep-shop, this is IT. 

From an in-person meeting or a video interview, we're here to help.Interviews can be the most intimidating thing in the entire world. A close second could be asking someone on a date—in real life. You know, not through an app. Swipes aside, we’re aiming to lay out the prep work for a fantastic interview.

 The kind that feels like you’re floating on air afterwards or the kind where you hear the cash register’s KA-CHING after an eloquent and to-the-point response.

We’ve outlined:

Interview homework: what to do to prepare for the (video) interview

During the interview: what to expect, what to avoid, and what to deliver

The interviewer's 3 essential questions 

Interview Homework

Like a quote on Pinterest once said, “Proper preparation prevents poor performance”. Abraham Lincoln may not have said it, but if he had a fondness for alliteration, he probably would have. After all, he is the figure that said, “Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe”. Preparation is where you win the interview. The interview is where you show the interviewer you won.

Research the Company

The first line of defense is a good offense, a well-known military strategy. The same goes with an interview. Researching the company is essential to create a positive impression. It shows you’ve prepared well, take the opportunity seriously, and may possess a few ideas on how to contribute. Not all research is created equal. It’s important to land on a few key areas. These areas will prepare you to freestyle if any unexpected questions arise; they also showcase how thoughtfully you’ve considered the company, its industry, and its potential roadmap.

When researching, find the answer to these questions:

How do they view themselves?

What sets them apart in their particular niche or field?

What are keywords that showcase their uniqueness?

What are some ways that their intention may fall short of the reality?

If possible, learn about these areas:

Recent news and/or highlights.

You can find this out in the PR/News section of their website—companies love to brag about themselves understandably. Check out their social media channels, including their Twitter, LinkedIn, and Facebook for news. For negative things (or less-glamorous news), ask ye olde search engine, Google. Type in the company’s name and hit “News” and a slew of information will be listed.

Most famous client and/or project.

Check out who their customers are and check out whether these organisations are small, mid-sized, or giant corporations. You’ll be able to get a grasp onto who their audience is, giving you information on what their potential business goals may be. Additionally, it sheds light on a specific company’s niche: they may be selling accounting software to airlines or FitBits to dog food companies. If they’ve historically been selling FitBits to dog food manufacturers but also landed a big project with an agricultural firm, this could give you ideas about you’re a great fit as they expand.

Know the Job Position

This may be the most “Dad-like” advice—ahem, obvious—but it’s an important point to thoroughly investigate. Look over the job description, and take some notes. A little exercise might be helpful:

Print out the job description

Pick a colored marker or pen and circle skills or areas you have direct experience in, that was your main “job”.

Pick another colored marker and circle skills or areas you do not have direct experience in, but have been related. ie. you ran a company’s social media, but learned to create infographics.

Write down how you’ve developed and/or learned these skills, like attending a webinar or an online course.

Your “direct skills” education

Your “related skills” education

Write down why this job position stood out to you personally—do you have a particular passion about the product, the industry, etc? Why are YOU drawn to it?

Know Why You’re a Fit

Use the earlier job description analysis to help you build a story in your mind about why you’re a fit. This is the time to reflect on possible questions or concerns the interviewer might have, “You worked as cosmetics store manager and now you want to work as a Data Scientist at our company?” Highlight how you taught yourself, took online courses, and always had interest in computers (your thesis was on how cybersecurity after multi-stakeholder organizations). Don’t be ashamed of your past; this is your story: own it and then construct the narrative.

Practice Talking About Yourself

Now that you know you’re a fit and you’re taking control of your narrative, it’s practice time. Another quote coming your way: “Practice makes perfect”. Interviews are often a nerve-racking affair. However practice is the proverbial shot of Vodka to interview anxiety. It makes things a bit better. You’ll know what to expect and how to answer. Use the list of common interview questions below to make flashcards or have a friend interview you. Research by Rice University and Michigan State University shows that "deliberate practice” or “engagement in structured activities created specifically to improve performance” as the biggest predictor for success and performance improvement.

What is deliberate practice?

Deliberate practice is purposeful and systematic; it requires focused attention over a period of time. A famed golfer, Ben Hogan, broke down each section of the golf game and studied how to master each section.

Similarly, deliberately break down each step of the interview process:

the introduction/overview,

insight into skills and experiences

the “challenges” faced

odd-ball questions (questions about industry, position, random trivia)

availability

closing questions.

DURING THE INTERVIEW

Show up on time.

If you’re a person that has a habit of arriving late. Make it your goal to get there 30 minutes beforehand. Being late to an interview puts you on the weaker foot; remember YOU’RE the prize—finding dedicated and skilled talent these days is getting tough. When you’re running behind schedule, you forfeit that hand. Now you just look like the genius who is a jerk. Avoid being late at all costs. If you're lucky enough to be having a video interview (video interviews means worrying less about road traffic), still make eye contact and be on time.

Always Call Casual Cannibals Into Pink Washpots

Don’t worry, you won’t have to call a cannibal anywhere—it’s a pneumonic device to help you remember 8 essential characteristics to exude in an interview: be authentic, concise, confident, interested, passionate, and warm. The (video) interview should be a pleasure to hold, both for you and your interviewer(s). These traits are guideposts in what important feelings to project, from the moment you shake their hand till you send a follow-up email. With a video job interview, you may want to emphasize body language, eye contact, or vocal pauses or a bit more. In video interviews, sometimes the camera may disengage, so be sure to make the potential employer can see you emotionally connect with questions.

Authentic

No need to be anyone else but you, boo. Really. You got this interview, so be the best version of yourself. The real “you” may be a person who prefers to observe and stay silent or be a slob at home. At an interview, you’re showcasing how you’ll be at the workplace, what kind of colleague you’ll be. Remember, job interviews are meant to assess fit between the organization and employee. This experience, an in-person interview or video, should be unique and mutually beneficial. Being authentic is one way to assure a match.

Concise

You’ve practiced your responses. Great. Be sure to keep responses under 90 seconds. That doesn’t necessarily mean taking the whole 90 seconds, but in general keep your answers to the point. Add emotion to them, if appropriate. In video interviews, be sure the camera is capturing your expressions.

Confidence

Keep things upbeat and positive. Remain confident in outlining how your skills align perfectly with the job requirements. Don’t feel ashamed or anxious about gaps in your resume; be confident in how you present them and how hard you worked to make up for any deficiencies. Employers want to see people who know their skillset is solid, but also confident to highlight their weak points and how they’re addressing them. In interview videos, be sure to come across sincere with marked pauses, emphatic head nods, and at least one ear-to-ear smile.

Passionate

Employers receive several applications for a position. If you’re interviewing for big corporations like Google, they receive thousands of applications. Share what excites you. Tell why this job aligns with your personal values and goals. Passion is one of those traits that’s difficult to hide or fake..

Warmth

Your hands may be a little clammy from nerves, but keep the conversation warm and easy-going. How to show warmth? When you’re doing prep work, jot down some potential warmth-inducing stories. Even if it's not in-person interview, a candidate story creates a special memory for the interviewer.

“Tell Me About Yourself”

This may be the most dreaded question in an interview. “Um…I studied Chemistry and like bread?” It’s a tough one as its encompassing and open-ended. This is simply an introductory question; as the interview progresses, they’ll be able to learn more about you from your later responses. To assist you in answering this, examine yourself:

What am I good at?

What do I enjoy?

What is the unique way I approach a problem?

Give an example of how that happened in the workplace

  The Interviewer’s Secret 3 Questions

At the core, a potential employer has 3 essential questions. The questions that interviewers wish they could ask, but try to answer for themselves:

“What’s it like working with you?”

They’re trying to answer whether you’ll be a cool person to work with. Again they know they’ll be spending considerable time alongside you; they don’t want to hire a jerk or someone that doesn’t contribute to a team project. The more you share, the better picture they’ll gain about working with you.

“Are you a willing learner?”

Are you a person that is teachable? Do you have a good attitude about trying to learn new things? Or are you a person that doesn’t really value trying to learn new skills as needed? Most employers understand if you don’t have the tools necessary for the job; they’re looking for someone who is an eager student.

“Do you take the initiative?”

No one wants a team member that waits for instruction. Are you an individual that has taken on new challenges and projects because that’s what your past employer needed—even before the employer realized it? Highlight your initiate with an example or two. Show the interviewer you can “pull your weight”, while still always trying to contribute to the larger team’s success. Self-starters are a great addition to any team.

Any other special tips if it's a video interview?

Interviewing videos and in-person interviews differ by only one variable: creating the best setting for a video interview. Luckily that's one variable within your control. Video interviewing is very much a candidate-centric approach to interviews. It gives a candidate and those scheduling job interviews a range of conveniences. For a video interview, you may want to keep these key choices in mind:

Use a well-lit space

Interviewers want to see your face; video interviews with good lighting goes a long way. It’s a little odd when people’s faces are in the dark. That may be the primates in us speaking, but we don’t really tend to trust those in dark lighting. Find a room or corner that has natural light that hits your face. Be sure that the light is not behind you, otherwise your face will be in a shadow.

Eliminate a distracting background

A video interview may be an excuse to clean up your living space. Clear out any distracting pieces of artwork, clothes, or anything else that may make an interviewer go, “Wow, that’s a little messy” or “That’s a bit inappropriate”. If you have any questions, stray on the more conservative side. If your prize, mounted stuffed pig head seems a bit too much, just take down for the video interview.

Check your tools (camera, phone, connection, etc.)

Double check that your Internet connection is fast and reliable. You may want to check out Speedtest.net the day before an interview. As a broadband speed testing tool, it assists in measuring how quickly your connection is. If you do it the day before, chances that connection will crash minimizes. Be sure your camera is up and running. You may want to do a test call with a sibling or friend. If your video interview is on-the-go, make sure your phone is charged, or have a charging cord nearby.

Dress simply

In a video interview, an employer typically sees only above your shoulders via the camera. Which is great if you're just wearing pajama pants. Focus on wearing non-distracting clothing. Sometimes even the most fabulous outfits don't translate that well on video. Wear a simple blouse or collared shirt for video interviews that will allow them to concentrate on you.

Interviews, video or not, don’t have to be intimidating. It’s a conversation where you get to showcase your professional narrative and interject what makes you so special.

Retorio is a video-based behavioral assessment powered by AI. It uses facial expression, language, gesture, and voice to create a Big 5 Personality profile. Companies like BMW and Lufthansa, leverage Retorio's AI to support their own talent management teams. 

LEARN WHAT MAKES ELON MUSK, ELON MUSK?

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[revangerang]

Fate’s Reprise

Chapter 1 - Prologue [Cont.]

Apparently post length limit is a thing.

Part 1 here

[[MORE]]

“I tried to stop her,” Jaken squawked. “It’s not befitting for a ward of the Great Sesshoumaru-sama to be begg-“

”Jaken.” He sent the imp a withering glare, and he shut up immediately.

“Are you leaving now?” his ward asked.

He inclined his head.

“You will come see me again soon, won’t you?”

His eyes gentled. “Do not ask foolish questions, Rin.”

Straightening, she smiled and gave her usual, “Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama!”

He placed his hand briefly upon her head.

“Tonight was so much fun! I’m glad that Kagome-sama is here with us this year. Don’t you think it’s wonderful she has returned to us?”

He raised a brow. “Hnn.”

Said woman approached then, picking her way through remaining stalls and banners.

Scenting lingering distress on the miko once more, his mouth turned down slightly in displeasure. In his opinion, she should not allow his brother to affect her so. Was she not having a pleasant evening with all of the others?

Inuyasha’s behavior was strange however. Did he not want the Miko? Three years ago the two had been inseparable, and he had even been willing to leap into the meido to retrieve her. He had been most upset when she had disappeared.

“Shippou-chan, Rin-chan, let's go back- ah. Sesshoumaru, you’re still here.” He did not miss the way her scent shifted, the subtle pine fragrance of her happiness reaching his sensitive nose.

He inclined his head. “I trust you enjoyed the remainder of your evening?”

The woman gave a bright smile, “Yes, we had so much fun dancing, didn’t we guys?”

“Yeah! Kohaku showed us a new dance!” Rin provided eagerly.

The boy gave a soft nod as he joined them.

“You were the best dancer Kagome,” the kit approached, lingering closer to Kagome than he might normally these days. He had matured greatly while away at Kitsune school. It occurred to Sesshoumaru that this was the nearest he’d ever dared to come to the Taiyoukai. So he was still intimidated, was he?

“I really wasn’t, Shippou-chan. I’m not even very familiar with this style.”

“The important matter is to flow with the music, rather than performing the steps perfectly- particularly when first learning- which you did well,” Sesshoumaru told her.

The miko’s shocked expression morphed into a blush coupled with the soft scent of plum wine. Embarrassment? Quite endearing.

“You dance?” the kit asked with wide eyes.

“Upon occasion.”

Rin caught his sleeve. “I have never seen that! Sesshoumaru-sama you must dance with us next time!”

The miko’s eyes shot up to him, and he slanted his gaze to hers.

“Perhaps.”

Kohaku looked intrigued. Stroking the nekomata on his shoulder, he moved closer. “Are there any youkai dances you might teach us, Sesshoumaru-sama?”

The kit hopped up and down. “Oh, oh! I’ll try to learn some at school for next time!”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Shippou-chan,” the miko said.

The kit folded his arms and chuckled, grinning proudly. “We foxes are-“ whatever he had been intending to say was cut off when he yawned loudly.

The miko smiled. “I think it’s about time we head to bed.”

The kit yawned again, nodding his head and rubbing an eye. “I think you’re right, Kagome.”

“Ready to head back, Rin-chan?”

“Yes, Kagome-sama.” His ward released his sleeve and moved to stand by the miko.

He found this was pleasing to him. She was good to the children, though they were not in truth her responsibility. Yet still she claims them. Having the miko here in the village to look after Rin was more than he originally could have hoped for when entrusting her to the care of the elder miko some months ago, particularly now he was aware of how educated she was.

He was anticipating learning more about the world she came from.

The miko gave a small bow. “Thank you again for earlier, Sesshoumaru. See you later!”

As she turned to leave, he captured her gaze. “I shall hold you to that, Miko.” And with that he turned from the stunned miko and walked into the forest, Jaken trailing behind and his ward calling out her goodbyes after them.

~ ~ ~

Kagome stood a moment watching Sesshoumaru walk away, before shaking her head and following the kids back towards the village. I guess he really is curious about my time after all. And did he say he would dance with us? Why did that make her feel happy?

Kohaku parted ways with them, going to spend the night with Sango and Miroku. Kagome walked back to Kaede’s hut, just listening to Shippou and Rin’s chatter. It was so cute the things that were important to kids. The scraps from the dango seller seemed to outshine the rest of the evening, except maybe the fireworks which were an even rarer treat for a poor village in the Sengoku Jidai. Though according to Shippou, kitsune youjutsu was able to create even more spectacular tricks. He promised to show Rin as soon as he was able to perform them.

Snuggled up in bed with Shippou and Rin later that night, Kagome drifted to sleep feeling more content than she had since her return to the Sengoku Jidai.

~ ~ ~

Thanks for reading!

Fun fact: any statistics/numbers are correct for the late 90’s/early 2000’s as best as I can figure. I think Kagome would actually know these things from looking them up to tell the others about the modern era. She might have paid even more attention to such things after the well closed as a way to latch onto something from her adventures with her friends. And/or just developed a genuine interest.

Also I know a poor, tiny village probably wouldn’t have had access to proper fireworks at this time, but you know what if Ginkotsu can exist, they can have fireworks okay hahaha

[angstmongertina]

A Holiday Medley: Winter Wonderland

Part 2/3 (the last one for now but keep an eye out in the future) of my Secret Santa gift for @corgi-shepard! I may or may not have replayed Regency Love for this. Hope this is IC for your character (because I couldn’t just ASK, you know)!

December dawned over Cambridgeshire, as it so often did in the English countryside, in cold and grey. The leaves had long since fallen in the brisk cold wind, leaving bare branches and strewn brown across the grass. Clouds hung, dark and bulging, over the land, bringing occasional torrents of rain but nothing more.

To Mrs. Elizabeth Graham, formerly Miss Kaye of Hertfordshire, however, the weather was hardly a deterrent. In fact, it was a commonly established index of the neighboring families that, if Mr. and Mrs. James Graham were not seen out, either arm in arm or, on those rare days when the rain or wind proved too strong even for Mrs. Graham’s sensibilities, within the comfortable interior of their carriage, the weather was not safe for any to venture into.

Indeed, it was not uncommon to find the lady out on her own, running errands while her husband managed the matters of their estate. And as the days grew ever shorter, the more frequent were her visits, for fabrics and cloth, furniture and food, with all deliveries accompanied by an insistence that her husband was not to find out.

The shopkeeps, knowing of her intentions and her impending visitors, smiled and said nothing.

Morning dawned in a light dusting of white. A military man through and through despite his most recent months of civilian life, James awoke at dawn, though, as was true every morning, he did not so much as let himself stir until slumber released his wife. As she awakened, she, as was tradition, raised a teasing eyebrow at her husband, lips pursed in a show of disapproval.

“Mr. Graham, have you no thoughts of propriety? What would the maids say if they saw you here?”

She received a lazy smirk. “No doubt the same thing they think every morning, my dear. Either admiring my exemplary physique—”

A most unladylike snort escaped her lips.

“Or impressed at how serious their masters are towards their duty in producing an heir.”

Hiding a smile, she slapped him gently on the shoulder. “Certainly, they couldn’t think anything scandalous when there are so many generous interpretations.”

“Of course not. My wife? Scandalous? Perish the thought.”

She rolled her eyes, relenting as he kissed her, slow and languid, though she knew full well that she couldn’t have stopped held back her laughter if she tried. “Oh, certainly not, especially if they saw that display. Perish indeed.” She shook her head, still with that silly grin tugging on the corners of her mouth. “Now if you’re quite done, I believe we have a busy day today.”

At that, he groaned with all the theatrics of a stage performer and she offered him an arch look. “Has civilian life spoilt you so, that you have such difficulty rising after the winter sun?”

He laughed, rich and clear. “Perhaps that’s it. Or perhaps it is nothing to due with that but rather due to the irresistible Mrs. Graham?” When she simply raised another skeptical eyebrow, he groaned again, turning to glare at the sky as though he thought he could intimidate the sun back below the horizon if he stared hard enough.

The next minute, however, he was on his feet, practically throwing the blanket off of her bed in his eagerness. She yelped, pulling it back over herself before the rest of the warmth could escape, but he hardly seemed to notice as he rushed toward the window, evidently all of his previous complaints about the time or the chill put out of his mind.

“James?”

When he failed to respond, instead standing, almost transfixed, she forced herself to her feet, biting back a curse at the sudden chill, and made her way to his side, before gasping in delight.

Everything she could see was white. Snowflakes filled the air, swirling in the light breeze and covering the trees and remnants of autumn in a layer of soft powder. Farther in the distance, the forest too was blanketed in snow, pristine and untouched.

Overnight, it seemed, the countryside had been transformed.

She was not entirely surprised when James fairly rushed through his morning routine, rushing her all the while. In fact, it seemed as though she had barely been dressed and settled herself at her desk before he was entreating her to join him for an errand in town before settling to break their fast.

His grin told her, even before his actions, that it was naught more than an excuse to explore the wilderness. Then again, if she were to be perfectly honest with herself, she knew her husband well enough that she wouldn’t have expected anything else… and herself well enough to admit that if he had not, she would have made the same suggestion.

In fact, given the speed with which her maid was able to assist her into a gown more appropriate for the elements, it seemed even their servants had been expecting the excursion, and also had given up requesting that she limit her activity in what they would consider inclement weather.

Properly attired, she found him awaiting her arrival in the foyer, looking somewhat as though he would pace a hole into the floor if she had delayed any longer. As it was, she barely had time to put on her gloves before he was leading her outside.

In the snowy morning, there was hardly a soul to be seen, something that suited the pair of them just as well. The white expanse lay open and unblemished, save for their tracks as they laughed and floundered through the snow, sometimes she in the lead and sometimes he, but always hand in hand.

When they had first moved to Cambridgeshire and the estate that had once been his family’s, the path to town had been strange to traverse. Both overly reminiscent of their walks to Darlington and yet just different enough to be disorienting, the walk proved to be at once a source of homesickness and a reminder of how far from her childhood home she was.

Walking through, hand in hand with James, however, the familiarity was a comfort. The road passed over rolling hills and snow-covered woods, not so different from the path to Darlington that they had taken strolls down, those quiet, warm days, that she had traversed more times than she could count. In fact, if she stopped, she could almost imagine herself, accompanied by her parents. Or not she and her parents, but instead, she, James, and…

“Elizabeth?”

His voice pulled her from her reverie, where she had been so absorbed that she did not realize she had fallen behind, lingering over the view in her mind’s eye. She smiled, shaking her head at his questioning look and brushing her hand over a low-hanging branch, watching as the snow fell softly to the ground.

“You have been in a contemplative mood as of late, my dear.”

“Indeed, and for good reason,” she returned, deliberately evasive, and tilted her face towards the still-falling snow, hiding a smile at the brief frustration that crossed his mien.

“And what contemplation has so possessed my wife that she must answer with such evasiveness?” He raised an eyebrow, a teasing look replacing the frustration on his face. “Have I lost my ability to hold her attention so quickly?”

She laughed. “Certainly not. I am merely considering what differences there will be to grow up here rather than in Hertfordshire.” When he appeared still to be puzzled, she took his hand, eyes dancing. “Though, I must admit I am also wondering whether your interest will soon be captured by someone else far more than by his poor mother.”

Gratification flooded her system at the indignation suffusing his face. “Hardly! The only possibility of that would be…”

As his expression shifted with his slowly dawning realization, she giggled, watching confusion, understanding, surprise, and then finally joy dance across his visage. “Mother?”

The word was uttered so softly that she could scarcely hear him. When she nodded, however, he whooped, enough that a nearby flock of birds took offense, fluttering into the air with cries of displeasure.

She laughed with him, which abruptly became a shriek as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her bodily off her feet and twirling her in a circle. Pressed against him, she could feel his laughter in his chest, the joy that radiated out in waves.

His eyes glinted as he set her back on her feet, shining with a thousand different emotions, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke again. “This is the happiest day of my life.”

Smirking and carefully disguising her own breathlessness, she raised an eyebrow. “I would never have guessed.”

His laughter echoed through the trees, much at odds with the mock dismay on his features as he stepped closer, shaking his head. “So impudent. What would our daughter think?”

She raised her chin, though she knew perfectly well that it did nothing to hide her wide smile at his words. “No doubt our son would believe that his mother is a scamp and a scoundrel who is very fortunate indeed to have caught the eye of a proper captain to provide her with at least some level of respectability?”

“Or that she and her father are both lucky to have such a clever, spirited, and beautiful woman in their lives?”

She huffed a laugh when he stepped closer still, a gloved hand cupping her cheek as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Flatterer.”

“Only the best for the mother of my child.”

“And your wife?”

“That too.”

She laughed again, though it was soft, more affectionate than teasing, and let her eyes flutter closed as their lips met, warm and gentle and slow. Of joy and wonder and promise.

For a long moment, they stood still, relishing the moment, before she cleared her throat. He started with a chuckle and bowed, offering his arm.

With a laugh of her own, she accepted it and they resumed walking, arm in arm, down the serene, snow-covered path.

[anodyne-sunflower]

Neptune-BalemxReader (Request)

A/N: Balem is ridiculous, and makes it hard to enjoy the Christmas spirit. So picking a plot for him was a challenge lol Also, this takes care of another request...for a reaction I wouldn’t consider very ‘Balem’ but fun to write ;)

MOOD MUSIC: Battlefield by Svrcina

***

A strong-willed woman, that’s what it took, and Balem would find himself incapable of denying you even the smallest of requests. He could not fathom how low he had sunk on his own personal view of people, but who was he to find fault in the love he held for you. As far as he could remember, you had undeniably hooked him into your world and refused to let go. Breaking down each barrier of his brash personality, until all that was left was a ruler who found his one weakness in the form of a gorgeous earthling.

“No.”

“Balem-“ The Primary growled deeply in his throat, almost a purr of annoyance that you had sensed building. He was a stubborn man, but you knew better than to give up on the first try with him. “My dear husband...”

Balem’s inquisitive eyes fell upon your figure, voyaging over the curve of your tempting hip and stopping just when those pretty lips came into his view. He could play this game with you, pretend you had little to no effect over him, but that would be disastrous by the end of it. It was unlikely he was even able to feign such a display, because those pleading eyes of yours were enough to earn a ‘yes’ from him. “Very well....” By now his tone had lost some of its potency, but it would be in bad taste to immediately destroy the aloof reputation he had built himself. He couldn’t have his staff bare witness to these softer moments with you, and judging by the curious stares of his advisor he already felt that part of his life ending.

“Mr. Night,” Balem stared icily towards the splice, not appreciating the way he lingered behind him like some child awaiting permission. The intimate moments he shared with you would remain behind closed doors, and he intended for that rule to apply to the throne room as well. “Do not stand there like some fool-!”

“You can go, Mr. Night.” Your palm fell over Balem’s clenched fist, acting as an instant calmative for the rage filled man. It was endearing how quarrelsome he could become under the scrutiny of his staff, but you suspected being the intimidating ruler of planets could make anyone testy. “You really shouldn’t be so cruel, Balem.” You waited until the rest of the servants left the throne room, knowing he’d be better off to receive your affections that way. “If you really don’t want to go then-“

“You’re a bothersome woman.” Balem scoffed in frustration, crossing his arms as he took a seat back on his hovering throne. You knew better than to take his words seriously in this instance, but it still made you pout down at him. Call it a sweet revenge, but you took advantage of the influence you had over him.

“I only asked for one thing...don’t be so melancholy.” Your fingers tugged gently on the ends of your dress, lifting it up and out of the way as you took a seat on his lap. Despite his initial cold shoulder, you still felt the brush of his fingertips on your lower back, softly massaging the skin that was bare from the dip of your gown. “Do you really not want to go?”

“Hm.” It was barely a reply, but you understood him well enough to know that his simple remarks meant he was caving to your desires.

“Oh, thank you!” With a relieved sigh, you tangled your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek happily and leaving him to gripe about the upcoming trip as you went away to pack.

***

“Neptune?! I thought we agreed we would go to earth? You said that-“

“Earth, Neptune...it’s all the same.” Balem shrugged your exasperation off, his shortened nails tapping away at the rim of his wine glass. He was in no fine spirits to be traveling away from Jupiter, as he usually was, but for you he was willing to make the small sacrifice. He hated most planets, they were often over populated, and the customs changed so frequently he never had time to register what was going on. He relied heavily on his advisor to notify him of such trivial details, but if he had to pick one planet he found tolerable alongside Jupiter, it would be Neptune. It was cold, desolate, and held a peaceful silence he was proud to call his own. He may have promised you a trip for the holidays, a Christmas tradition you forced upon him, but he was under no obligation to make it on earth.

“You stubborn, bull-headed, man!” Was it really so much to expect him to keep his word? He was always so skilled at deceiving his business rivals, you felt he might be transferring those ideals to his marriage. “One Christmas, just one, that’s all I wanted. Back home where people actually decorate, make hot chocolate, sing carols, and exchange gifts!” There was no use covering up your disappointment, and in hindsight you were being rather childish about it. But you were homesick, as anyone would get during the holidays. All you wished was for one Christmas abroad, and to delight in the extravagant traditions earth offered.

“You begged me for a winter, and now you have it.” Balem muttered back to you, gesturing to the white landscape below as his clipper descended onto the docking bay. “Neptune is forever in a state of endless snowstorms. You have your wish, my queen. Do not presume to ask me for more.”

Balem was not an easy man to be married to, but you loved him anyway. However, your forgiving nature didn’t extend to trickery and lies, or his terrible attitude on most things. Christmas was your favorite time of year, and having to brave the boring atmosphere of Jupiter for one more year would’ve been hell. “You are selfish, Balem! I hope you enjoy your solitude, because I’m,” With a displeased demeanor, you grabbed your pale blue cloak from the bed and stormed out of his clipper chambers, barely acknowledging him on your way out. “Going out and enjoying what I can of this foreign place you’ve brought me.” Drama wasn’t your talent, but being with Balem sometimes brought that out in you. Mainly when you wanted to get away and deal with your conflicting emotions on your own. Or, if you were being perfectly honest, to gain some sympathy from your husband.

“Y/N.” Balem rose from his seat, debating whether to chase after you or let you simmer in your anger. He despised conversations about feelings, but he couldn’t deny the small pang of grief he felt at your departure. “Wait...” He grumbled to himself, cursing the gods for ever letting him fall victim to his heart’s passions.

The ship came to a halt on the docks, anchoring to the metal and releasing the ramp for you to exit. You could feel Balem’s presence looming behind you, but in your sour mood it wasn’t worth giving him the time of day now. “That awful...handsome, petulant man...” To say it was difficult to insult your husband would be an understatement, because he brought you more joy than headaches in the past years. However, today he was on your list of people you wanted to slap upside the head for their unbecoming behavior. “I swear.”

You greeted Mr. Night on your way out, smiling when he fussed over you staying warm whilst exploring about. You had never set foot on Neptune before, but the minute you looked out at the sea of white in front of you, your heart nearly stopped from the grand scenery. It was stunningly beautiful, sparkling white in the soft glow of the sun that beamed from so far away. There was very little light that was given to the planet, but regardless of that fact, you were amazed at how gorgeous it looked. Darkened trees dotted the horizon, the lakes frozen over and proving even prettier upon closer inspection. If ever there was a winter wonderland, it was this. The odd part was, that it angered you, because not only had he specifically chosen a planet that would perfectly capture what you wanted, but he went out of his way to even agree to travel. It sounded immature and petty, but you liked to actually stay mad at him for once. Instead of finding out his selfish nature was actually him just working around what you had requested of him.

With a small groan of annoyance, you finally trekked into the snow. The chill of it running up to your knees and causing you to smile in fondness of your childhood memories. You had missed such weather, and knowing Neptune was in a perpetual state of winter made you warm with joy. Unfortunately, the holiday spirit was meant to be shared with your hotheaded husband, who didn’t seem to be following you any longer. “Merry Christmas, to me...” You sullenly whispered, stopping at a stone archway that was covered in iced over vines. The path lead down into the valley, where an enchanting castle stood alone on the hill surrounded by old metal gates and plants that had withered away without proper care. Even then, it still looked elegant to you, and the more you thought it over the more you were willing to spend your vacation here.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His dark voice trailed into your mind, making you turn around and come face to face with him in his brooding company.

“Yes.” There was more descriptive words you could’ve used to explain your love for this place, but Balem would’ve been smug about it. Something you weren’t willing to fully put up with just yet. “It is.”

Balem sighed heavily, picking up on your cold shoulder and not wanting to further the wrath you had developed against him. Normally he’d be fine with the silence, but the sentimental half of him loathed your aloofness towards him. “My flower.” He eagerly reached for you, ignoring your gentle resistance of his touch when he tugged you into his arms.

He stayed silent, but you felt the love he harbored for you through his embrace. The warmth that came with his hold, it was comforting to your frustrated soul, and even if you still wanted to bite back for his irritable ways you allowed him the proximity. “You’re still in trouble, Balem.”

The Primary smirked at your weak threat, burying his nose into your hair and drinking in the heavy scent of your perfume. It provided its own pleasure for him, and if this was the events Christmas would bring in the future, he was happy to play along next time. “Will this palace suffice?”

The answer, was an obvious yes, but you weren’t going to satisfy his ego with it just yet. He could wait to hear how much you adored him for bringing you to Neptune. Especially when all you wanted to do now was hurry inside and bask in the heat of the fireplace that undoubtedly adorned the castle walls. “Balem,” You pulled away from him, still staying within his hold as you gazed lovingly up at the Primary. He looked devilishly handsome against the backdrop of winter, the distinguished gold and black cloak he wore emitting a kingly vibe. If it wasn’t for your vengeful side, you’d of enthusiastically dragged him into his winter palace and spent Christmas locked in his heated embrace. But that special gift could wait until you got precisely what you wanted. “Do you love me?”

The inquiry caught him off guard, his eyebrow raising in suspicion as he stared curiously down at you. “Little bird,” he warned, scowl growing deep when you simply smiled up at him. He couldn’t gauge what your plan was, but he assumed you wished for nothing more than his suffering. Dramatic as it was, he was not capable of voicing the extent of his adoration of you. “Do not-“

“Answer me, Balem.” You prodded him for a confession, even when you knew he loved you deeper than anything else in his life. You valued actions above words most days, but on the rare occasion, you rather enjoyed hearing him admit it. Nothing screamed payback like watching the most powerful man succumb to his woman.

Balem could not comprehend why you’d burden him with this nonsense, and truthfully he just wanted to whisk you away into the castle and find more creative ways to keep warm. But that determined stare of yours was making him feel a vulnerability he wasn’t accustomed to, and he hated every minute of it. “I...” He muttered, brow furrowing in distaste of this topic. Courting you was the most romantic side of him you’d likely ever witness. He had hoped, in vain, that you’d be satisfied with that outcome. Only now, it would appear otherwise. “This is nonsense, enough of it.”

Balem gently shoved you aside, his mind set on leaving this foolish conversation behind. He had better things to attend to than placate the sentiments of your earthling heart. “Come, I’ll have the servants build us a fire. We’ll have dinner together.”

It was his way of showing you just how much you meant to him, you were aware of that. And you couldn’t help but smile at his discomfort over the topic of love. He was never going to be an open person, but you were his wife, and you intended to tease him about it until the end of your days. “Balem, just say it. It won’t kill you.” You hooked your arm around his, leaning your head happily against his shoulder as you walked along the snowy path and towards the palace gates.

“I said enough.” His words were straight and to the point, laced in a discontent that made you giggle madly. He could be curt all he wanted, because when you glanced up and saw that heated trail of pink along his cheeks you knew you had won this time.

***

A/N: In case it wasn’t obvious, the request was for ‘Balem blushing’. Not a very realistic reaction for the ass, but I tried to put him into a position where I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d blush lol So, hope it was decent 🤷🏻‍♀️

[logh-icebergs]

Episode 29: One Narrow Thread

Early 798/489. Adrian Rubinsky meets with Bishop Degsby of the Earth Cult to discuss his plans to aid Reinhard’s forces in capturing Iserlohn and then assassinate Reinhard to seize power for Phezzan. Degsby points out that under this scheme the Earth Cult’s investment in setting up a puppet government on Heinessen would be a wasted resource, but Rubinsky plans to use his financial control over the Alliance government to manipulate them into backing Yang into a corner. Degsby reminds Rubinsky that he owes the Grand Archbishop for his current position and had better tread carefully. Rubinsky sends his minion Kesserling to Remschild to propose a scheme that will ensure that the Empire and Alliance continue to fight each other, while Admiral Kempf attempts to perfectly sync twelve warp engines to avoid trapping all of Geiersberg fortress in null space. ….....Meanwhile back in the actual show we’ve been watching, Yang loses at 3D chess, Julian attempts to drink wine, and Hilda visits Kircheis’s grave.

A Quick Language Rant

“Words are like icebergs floating on the ocean called ‘heart.’” This quote provides the guiding philosophy for this project: LoGH is a text that uses the nuances of language, in concert with facial expressions, body language, symbolism, etc., to point the viewer to deeper layers of meaning in the story being told. As a close reading of the queer narratives in LoGH, this blog attempts to tease out and expose these slightly hidden layers. But…..we are writing in English. You’re reading this in English. The gifs we reference have English subtitles and no sound. And uhh, how do I put this diplomatically…

Every English translation of LoGH sucks.

...Okay that’s a bit harsh. Translation is fucking hard, especially of such a complicated work, and everyone who’s put hours and hours and hours into bringing LoGH to the English-speaking world deserves a hell of a lot of gratitude and credit. We never would have been able to watch the show without them. But. When we get into the nitty-gritty details of analyzing a scene, the fact that often none of the existing translations matches the nuance of the Japanese gets in the way. I’d much rather be plunging into yelling at Cazellnu right now than writing this note, but the conversation between Cazellnu and Yang in this episode is a mess in both sets of subtitles that I have access to, so here we are.

Let’s start with the fansubs, on the left—notice a couple whole clauses that aren’t in the official Hidive subs at all? Care to guess where they come from? That’s right, they come directly from the novels, as does the word “perfect” in Yang’s “perfect parent” line. Hey, I totally get it, fansubbers, the novels are a fantastic resource for figuring out the kanji or double-checking words that are hard to hear. But the dialogue in the anime is not in fact lifted verbatim from the novels; and while not every difference is super meaningful, we are interested in the intentional choices made by the anime staff, and that makes deviation from the books especially ripe for analysis.

The official subs, which are generally quite reliable, are also unsatisfying in this scene. As I’ll discuss below, the word that Yang uses replacing the novel’s “perfect” is 人並みに, hitonami ni, an adverb meaning “like others/as much as anyone else.” The official sub translation makes it sound more like “under normal circumstances” than “like normal people,” and while that’s not a life-altering difference, the nuance is relevant to my analysis. And they got the grammar of the sentence in the last gif here backwards; indeed, neither subtitle translation understood what I believe Yang is saying in those lines, but the English translation of the novel agrees with my interpretation. (Not that the novels don’t have their own translation problems, which is outside the scope of this blog but also frustrating…)

Phew. What all of this means is that before we can even start writing a post, we have to go through a whole process of triangulating all of the slightly different translations of any scene we want to analyze in detail, making sure that we understand the nuances of the language and can convey them accurately. (Not to mention checking the original LD version to make sure no significant changes were made to the animation in the DVD remaster!) In the case of the conversation between Yang and Cazellnu, the subtitles used in this post are my own synthesis based on the fansubs (modified to reflect the actual anime dialogue) and the translation in the novel (where I believe it to be more accurate).

With that out of the way, we are now ready to plunge into the main battle of this episode, so buckle up for....

Yang vs. Cazellnu!

That’s right, we’ve seen Yang battle Imperial fleets to improbable stalemates at Astate and Amlitzer, outsmart the commanders of Iserlohn to capture it from the inside, and annihilate one of his own nation’s fleets on his way to defeating the military coup; but how does Yang the Magician handle the most intimidating of all battles: having dinner with a married friend?? I’ve said before that Icebergs is not a relationship advice column, and nor is it, usually, a tips and tricks guide for dealing with pressure from peers to conform to heteronormative expectations, but hey—when we have the chance to learn from a Master Tactician, we should take it, right?

...Hmm.

...Well in any case, what’s fascinating and important about this conversation is that it does have the back-and-forth tension of a battle, with multiple strikes and counterstrikes: Yang employs a wide range of different strategies tactics to parry the various arguments that Cazellnu makes in his quest to convince Yang of his duty to marry. This conversation is key to understanding both Yang’s attitude toward marriage and family, and the way that Cazellnu often speaks explicitly in the voice of the normative pressures society puts on people to fit into the “married with kids” box. The dynamics of the entire interaction set Yang and Cazellnu up as opponents, and the sum total of Yang’s resistance to all of Cazellnu’s different angles of attack paints a clear picture of his current reluctance to see himself in the role of husband or father.

Yang does indeed provide the first opening to be scolded about marriage, when he takes offense at Charlotte using the suffix -ojichama (an affectionate “uncle”) in contrast to -oniichama, “big brother,” for Julian. Keep this moment in mind; I’ll be coming back to it in…*checks calendar* about eight months.

Immediately Cazellnu frames marriage as a societal obligation, and failure to marry as a “luxury.” Aww Cazellnu you romantic you.

In the previous episode we saw Mittermeyer pushed toward a normative marriage by subtle, insidious pressures—his upbringing within the context of a traditional family and the (possibly unspoken) expectations from his parents that he’d follow that model; the preponderance of visible heterosexual romance in his society. We’ve seen Yang swept along passively into romantic situations in which he was obviously uncomfortable. But Cazellnu’s line right here is the first time that a character has actually given voice to the institutional heteronormativity of society, actually advocated for it in so many words, actually leveraged it to criticize someone’s deviation from that norm.

Bantering with a friend in the abstract is way less uncomfortable for Yang than being thrust directly into a potentially romantic/sexual situation—unlike when Lapp pushed him to dance with Jessica or when Jessica threw herself at him, here there is no immediate danger, no specific person to reject or offend. This is an intellectual battlefield. And so Yang does fight back actively, starting with Tactic #1: appeal to historical precedent.

Note that while in his initial grumbling Yang said he wanted to be called oniichama while *still* a bachelor, now that he’s talking in the abstract rather than about himself he’s taking the even stronger stance that people can be productive members of society while *never* getting married. This line of argument makes sense; history is where Yang feels like an authority, and even the syntax of his “shall I make you a list?” reinforces his expertise here.

If Cazellnu’s thesis were that marrying is the only way to be an asset to society, Yang pointing out the existence of plenty of queer people—er sorry, “lifelong bachelors”—making contributions throughout history would be an effective rebuttal. (No, I don’t think that Yang is consciously talking about queerness, but yes I do think the creators are, through him.) But Cazellnu’s thesis is that participating in marriage and reproduction is an obligation on top of whatever other accomplishments someone might have, and Yang bringing up historical precedent opens the door to Cazellnu pointing out that not only is marriage the norm right now, but it has been for much of history. 

In case you think I’m just being overly cute with all the battle analogies, it comes directly from the source material: The narration in the novel here contains lines like “And the point goes to Cazellnu, Julian thought” and “Yang didn’t attempt another counterstrike.”

In the anime, however, Yang does attempt one more counterstrike here, which is important because it’s the closest he gets to just saying “but I don’t want to.” 

For Tactic #2, Yang complains that he didn’t pass thirty on purpose; in other words, Cazellnu may think he’s at an age where he ought to be married, but on the inside he doesn’t feel ready for that role. In case there was any suspense about Julian’s feelings on the matter, he is in no rush for Yang to decide he has to get married—keep this line in mind too, as I’ll be coming back to it in a mere six months.

Cazellnu switches the issue from Yang’s feelings to his outward appearance—a subtle but symbolic shift. If only Yang would suck it up and play the proper role, he would become (outwardly at least) a true adult. The issue of Yang’s desires is casually brushed aside.

This entire exchange is good-natured banter—Cazellnu’s intention here, at least on the surface, is to tease Yang, not to seriously condemn him for his choices. But the framework in which people joke is telling; and Cazellnu’s teasing is framed around the assertion that Yang is selfish for neglecting his duty to play the part of husband. Stage one of the battle is interrupted at this point for dinner, and for stage two, during a 3D chess match after dinner, Cazellnu’s joking tone is gone. The topic at issue this time is not just marriage but also parenting; when Cazellnu casually (but correctly) criticizes Yang’s parenting skills, Yang defends himself with Tactic #3: appeal to special circumstances.

Notice that Julian is paralleled to Hortence here in the role of caretaker to the girls. He’s simultaneously being included by implication in the younger generation—as Cazellnu and Yang discuss Yang’s pseudo-parental role in his life—and acting as an adult vis-à-vis the younger kids. At the risk of becoming a broken record...keep this moment in mind, as I’ll be coming back to it in the future.

The key to what Yang’s trying to say here is that adverb I mentioned earlier, hitonami ni, which is a deviation from the dialogue in the novel and therefore something the anime staff thought about explicitly. Hitonami is an adjective meaning average or ordinary (literally “in line with people”), so the adverb form means “like other/most people.” Yang is situating himself as fundamentally outside of the norms that Cazellnu is so fond of imposing: He couldn’t be expected to be a parent like normal people, because he didn’t grow up with a model of a traditional family and because he’s single.

His upbringing is in the past and outside his control; but being single is (on the surface) a choice that he has made—between the tables full of love letters, and Jessica being none too subtle about her continued interest, and everyone on all of Iserlohn knowing that Frederica has a thing for him, it’s always been clear that he’d have options if he were interested. It’s not that his point here doesn’t stand—I agree, the fact that he’s a bachelor who lives alone and has zero interest in or experience with kids did make him a strange choice for Julian’s guardian. But tactically, within this conversation, this was a huge blunder: It opens the door right back up for Cazellnu to continue the marriage guilt trip that was interrupted earlier. And sure enough...

This is such an obvious error that it seems revealing; in Yang’s subconscious, when he’s thinking about why he can’t be expected to be a parent “like most people,” his status as single might feel like something more innate about himself than a temporary circumstance or choice. His shock here is overdone considering the earlier banter. Tactic #4, blaming the ongoing war, is presumably one he’s used before, as Cazellnu is expecting it and doesn’t bother engaging with it directly at all, instead…

...finally delivering his thesis statement on marriage and reproduction clearly. And well, it’s a doozy.

A human being’s greatest duty is to bring forth new life. Damn Cazellnu. The use of the word “duty” (Japanese: 義務, gimu) echoes what Poplan started to say to Konev and Julian about a man’s “duty” to have sex with women; within the first three episodes of the season we’ve had two different characters explicitly describe heterosexual sex and/or reproduction as an obligation. (And throw in the slightly more coded discussion of Mittermeyer’s parents’ “expectations” about his role in society that preface the depiction of his marriage, as well as Reuental’s discussion of his own parents’ unhealthy and unromantic marriage that we haven’t even had time to talk about yet…..hmmmm is it possible that a theme is being established here?)

I can’t emphasize the importance of these lines enough: This is not passive, silent, subtle heteronormativity. This is Cazellnu voicing a view of the main purpose of human life that positions essentially all queerness as not just unusual or different, but specifically a deviation from the greatest duty of human beings. He is not joking. He’s not bantering. This is his worldview.

...And it pisses Yang off. Leaning forward in his seat, setting his brandy glass down with a noticeable thud, furrowing his eyebrows—this is more visibly angry body language than we usually see from Yang. As for the actual content of Tactic #5, well, as much as I love Yang I have to accuse him of a bit of an obnoxious-Reddit-poster argument style here, completely avoiding what Cazellnu actually said and deflecting the topic to something he’d rather be arguing about instead.

Yang: “Yo can we please go back to talking about how much war sucks? I thought I signed up to be on an anti-war show, not to be lectured at about heteronormative social structures…”

The best I can do to relate this reply to what Cazellnu said is that Yang’s either implying that his own record of causing death as a commander morally disqualifies him from being worthy of participating in the whole creation of new life thing, or possibly questioning the wisdom of bringing new life into the middle of a war. Cazellnu seems to take it to be about Yang’s sins, as he counters with—somehow—an even more obnoxious view of the point of reproduction. 

“Okay little Timmy, I’ve caused the deaths of approximately three million soldiers in war, so just be a good boy and go do enough good to compensate for that so Daddy doesn’t go to hell, okay?”

Yang is done with this crap by now, and the next gif is a tactical three-for-one: First he points out that for this specific point of Cazellnu’s, about passing along one’s unfinished ambitions to the next generation, there’s no need for one’s protégés to be biological children (#6); then without giving Cazellnu time to respond (perhaps by pointing out that this doesn’t address his original argument about biological imperative to create life), he adds that this whole discussion is moot in the case that there isn’t unfinished ambition to pass along in the first place—again positioning himself as outside the scope of Cazellnu’s arguments (#7); and finally…

...the ultimate maneuver to win any difficult argument: Tactic #8: get up to go pee.

If you’re keeping score, I’d say that the great undefeated Admiral Yang loses this battle badly. Cazellnu is constantly a step ahead, turning Yang’s arguments back around on him and taking advantage of every opening. Yang is a scholar and a brilliant logical thinker, but you can’t fight convictions like “humans have a duty to reproduce” or “being a bachelor is anti-social behavior” with the kind of logic that Yang is practiced in. Heteronormativity is, for Yang, a more difficult opponent than the Imperial army.

Julian

hey-did-we-mention-Julian-has-dual-identities-of-soldier-and-caretaker.gif

The first episode of season two was all about Julian beginning to grow up as a soldier; this episode forms the natural complement by focusing on Julian’s more domestic roles. Back when Julian was first introduced I mentioned that he’s one of the only male characters who embraces more traditionally feminine roles, and in this episode that side of his personality is emphasized—from happily puttering around the kitchen doing laundry and cooking dinner, to helping look after Charlotte and her little sister (henceforth known as Demon Child Cazellnu, D.C. for short, until someone gives me a better explanation for her namelessness…). 

Did I say Yang vs. Cazellnu is the main battle of this episode? I should have said it’s second after the epic clash of Gensui vs. the Roomba.

Fun fact: 1600 years in the future everyone has finally gotten over being pedantic about calling it “Frankenstein’s monster”!

It’s not played up in the anime except in background shots like this, but from Julian’s diary it’s clear that, along with Yang, Schenkopp, Poplan, etc., Hortence also serves as a role model and mentor for Julian—he speaks admirably of her ability to quickly turn her new Iserlohn quarters into a true home, and eagerly seeks out new cooking ideas and tips from her.

Julian is by nature a caretaker and nurturer; it’s as much a part of his identity as his urge to fight to protect the things he cares about. I can’t express how fucking cool it is that one of the main protagonists of this show is a teenaged boy who’s completely comfortable putting on an apron and making stew while the washing machine whirs in the background, who looks up to both soldiers and housewives, who spends the evening playing with two little girls until they fall asleep on his lap. The landscape of fiction is generally not filled with men who are defined by empathy and nurturing. It’s so badass and so important that Julian embraces these sides of himself, without feeling the need to somehow reject or outgrow them in order to become a Real Man.™

.....Okay Julian yes you are a badass but please dear god learn how to hold a wine glass.

...and Yang

Icebergs Canon: The reason Julian’s suit and Yang’s pajamas are the exact same color is not the animators being lazy, it’s that both items were gifts from Hortence, who clearly bought them at the same store.

Oooh what is this? Actual backstory about what the fuck Julian is even doing in Yang’s life? One keyword of the storytelling style of LoGH is “patience,” and the show has taken its sweet time offering any real explanation of their whole deal. From episode 3 we know that Yang is Julian’s “guardian,” that Julian’s father was also a soldier, and that the military has paid for Julian’s schooling, but in typical LoGH fashion we’re forced to try to piece the details together ourselves. Here, finally, we’re given a few more snippets: Julian was sent to live with Yang four years ago, when he was twelve, and the person who had the brilliant idea to entrust Yang with a child was none other than…

This is the one skirmish of their battle in which Yang is clearly victorious. Even Cazellnu can’t come up with a defense of this decision. Seriously, Cazellnu…..why.

Poor baffled Yang has absolutely no clue what to do with this small human who showed up at his house and immediately started cleaning up. I love that Yang appears to have repeatedly gotten frustrated while writing something and strewn crumpled drafts all over the room...wtf Yang.

This flashback, which takes place earlier in the episode, complements and reinforces Yang and Cazellnu’s discussion of Yang’s total lack of parental instincts: Although he’s come to care about Julian a lot, he had no enthusiasm for this arrangement when Cazellnu first foisted it upon him. He’s Julian’s guardian not because he wanted a child, but because Cazellnu, tasked with managing supplies of all kinds, had a surplus of war orphans needing housing and pressured his friend into taking one in.

Back in the present, Julian continues to stress about Yang’s disapproval of his military career, leading to my third-favorite failure of the Yang-Bechdel Test:

Julian’s main reaction to his promotion is to wonder how Yang will react; his pout shows that, doing a bit of Icebergs-style analysis himself, he reads between the lines of Frederica’s words to understand that Yang did not act pleased.

This tension is underscored again when Yang, rather than toasting to Julian’s promotion, toasts his safe return. Geez Yang, kinda passive aggressive.

This episode is all set-up, laying out clearly the main themes of Julian’s arc that will continue to develop through the season: 1) He’s awkwardly between child and adult—offered wine but unable to drink it smoothly; playing together with the girls but in a caretaker role; promoted for his heroics in battle but insecure about Yang’s reaction. And 2) his dynamic with Yang is evolving, with question marks about how exactly they’ll relate as he grows up and about how Yang will deal with the reality of his becoming a soldier.

And of course, we’ll be keeping an eye on Gensui’s evolving dynamic with the Roomba as well.

Stray Tidbits

This breathtaking scene in which Hilda visits Kircheis’s grave is one of the first key signs of how seriously the show takes Reinhard’s grief and the hole that Kircheis left in his life going forward. Naturally we’ll be coming back to this moment in the future, so for now I’ll just say, god damn, I have chills.

Worldbuilding alert! Yang’s fleet may be currently stationed on Iserlohn, but lest we forget that it was originally constructed by the Empire, the incredibly fancy paneling of the living quarters is here to remind us. The animators really live and breathe this world and it shows in these details.

I’d be off-brand if I didn’t comment on Hortence Cazellnu finally getting more than a few frames of screen time; but other than being a cheerful hostess and more or less actually knowing how to hold a wine glass (unlike anyone else at the table—I made fun of Julian but in fact he’s just imitating Yang and Cazellnu!), she remains an enigma. Patience, the Hortence Discourse will come.

And then there’s Phezzan, back on its anime bullshit... Seriously wtf is this guy and what’s wrong with his eyes?? I’m scared.

[2-fast-2-curious]

This Photograph is Proof You Know I Know

Pairing: Negan x reader

Summary: You’re stuck in an unfulfilling job at the Sanctuary when Negan offers you a chance to pursue your passion

Warnings: inappropriate language because it’s Negan, a sexual situation between people of differing power dynamics (Is that a warning? Basically, Negan has sex with one of the workers at the Sanctuary), oral sex

Words: 1895

Author’s Note: This was written for @i-am-negan-trash  ‘s fic exchange. My fic partner, @jdmfanfiction wrote me this amazing piece of writing and I ended up waiting almost up until the deadline to finish mine.   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I was going to name this piece after a Nickleback song until I dug into my repertoire of angsty emo music

“The best thing about a picture is that it never changes, even when the people in it do.” - Andy Warhol

It started when the Saviors found an abandoned department store. Of course, the outdoor/sporting goods section had been absolutely annihilated. There wasn’t a single item left on the shelves. But the rest of the store was perfectly intact. You guessed whoever raided the place had done so before permanent settlements had formed. Groups travelling on foot didn’t have much use for frilly lingerie or dishwashers. While the other Saviors loaded the trucks with appliances and furniture. You were stuck filling suitcases with clothes. You sighed, your job at the Sanctuary was basically to act as a personal shopper for Negan’s wives. As he put it, you were responsible for keeping his wives looking hot for him. Negan had mentioned that he might be adding a couple of new wives to the roster so you grabbed a black dress in every size you could find.

You had zipped up your last suitcase and handed it off to Laura when you spotted two men carrying a flat screen tv. “Where did you get that?”

They nodded towards the corner where you saw an electronics section. You hadn’t noticed that before which was shocking since it looked like it was the most popular section for the Negan's men. They were all helping themselves to various video game consoles and carrying armfuls of games. You rolled your eyes and walked past them to reach the only device you were interested in. You kneeled down and grabbed a camera, the fancy kind with interchangeable lenses, the kind you could've never imagined being able to afford before the world was overrun with zombies.

You had your pick of the entire photography section and you were helping yourself to as much as you could carry. Suddenly you felt a chill come over you, you felt uneasy. Having survived as long as you did before you joined the Saviors, you knew when you were being watched.

"Boo," said an intimidating but familiar voice.

You gasped, using one hand to cover your mouth and the other to playfully slap the shoulder of the culprit. “Negan! You scared me.“

Negan chuckled pleased with your reaction. “Sorry sweetcheeks, just trying to finding something other than Who's The Boss for Dwight to watch." You saw that Negan did indeed have a handful of DVDs in his hand "Do you think he’d like the first season of Siesta Key?“

You laughed "I'm sure he'll love it." You found Negan quite easy going which was something not everyone could say. Of course, you witnessed how irrational and erratic he could be as a rule. However, you actually liked spending one-on-one time with him and his dark sense of humour. Besides, your job was crucial to keeping Negan's wives happy so he knew not to rub you the wrong way.

Negan glanced over at the boxes you had clutched in your hands. "What do you have here? A camera? You know we got one of those from Alexandria."

You scoffed. "No offence Negan but this one is top of the line with all the bells of whistles"

Negan shrugged. "So what are you going to do with it?"

“Well..." The question stumped you. The answer should be obvious, take photos but what would be your subject? The land surrounding the Sanctuary wasn't anything like the bucolic fields and trails of its past "I used to love taking photos before everything happened.”

Negan noticed your puzzled expression. "Well darlin’, how would you like to use this little hobby of yours to earn your keep around here"

You raised an eyebrow, sure he had his men snag some priceless pieces from the Smithsonian but Negan wasn't exactly known to be a patron of the arts. You couldn't see him offering you points to shoot photos of wildlife for his private collection."What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm out here doing all this rad shit and I'm thinking it's a little unfair that not everyone gets to see it." Negan grabbed a couple more DVDs. "Effective immediately, I'm putting you in charge of communications here at the Sanctuary. Dwight can take over finding shit for the wives. You just got a promotion, you are going to follow me like a shadow and let everyone know what they are missing. Any questions, darlin’?"

You bit your lip and nodded your head. When Negan offered you a chance to end your days of digging through lacey undergarments, you were going to take it.

Negan handed you back your camera. "Get that thing charged and I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."

You became the in-house photojournalist for Negan, you accompanied him everywhere and took photos of him. You wrote a weekly newsletter which was printed and distributed around the Sanctuary and gave updates on what their fearless leader was doing. Yup, your job was basically producing propaganda for Negan. The propinquity to Negan your new job provided also meant that you developed a certain fondness for your leader. It also didn’t hurt that he was charismatic as fuck and had killer arms from carrying around Lucille.

You were on the computer adding meta tags to some of the photos you took and you couldn't help but chuckle at a couple of them. The way Simon could contort his face should make him a national treasure. You blushed when you came across a photo you took for completely selfish reasons. You moved the image of Negan stretching, the hem of his white t-shirt just above his navel exposing his happy trail, into your personal folder with the other gratuitous photos you had taken of him. You quickly switched back to looking at a relatively tame photo of Negan and some of the Saviors next to the produce they collected from the Kingdom.

Negan strolled into your office carrying a freshly cleaned Lucille. He peered over your shoulder and squinted at the computer screen. "Who's that?"

You glanced where Negan was pointing. "Darren"

"And her?"

"Melissa"

"Darlin', that's the fucking problem we have so many fucking people here I can't remember all their fucking names." It was true there had been many new additions to the Sanctuary, anyone would have a hard time keeping them straight. Negan rubbed his jaw, you could tell he was thinking up a plan. "You’re going to stay behind for the next little while. I need my personal photographer to capture portraits of every fucker here and pass them onto my men working the gates."

Instead of shadowing Negan like you usually did, you went all over the Sanctuary. One by one, you took photos of everyone, tapping them on the shoulder and pressing the button on your camera. By the end of the week, you had completed your assignment and you felt quite proud to present Negan with your album of hand labelled photos.

You couldn’t help but fidget as you watched Negan flip through the pages. You saw him nod approvingly and thought you were off the hook but it wasn't long until his brows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" You really didn't want to redo the assignment. It was quite tedious to track everyone down and have them agree to pose for a photo.

“Darlin’, we have a problem. We have photos of everyone here except for you.“

"Oh" to be honest, you hadn't considered the fact that Negan would need your photo. He already knew who you were. And almost all his men recognized you from your days shadowing Negan.

"Give me your camera, I'll do the honours." You gingerly handed your camera to Negan and prayed that he would be gentle with your baby. You sat up straight on the chaise in your office and looked directly at the camera. Having your photo taken in such formal circumstances brought you right back to picture day in school.

Negan sighed, putting down your camera before taking a proper shot. “This isn’t a fucking mugshot, look like you’re having a good time. I’ve seen people more excited staring down the shaft of Lucille.”

You laughed, the result of both Negan’s comments and your effort to look less miserable in your Sanctuary directory photo.

Negan was fiddling with your camera when a devilish smirk crossed his face. “Darlin’, I didn’t know everyone here needed to see such close-up photos of my arm.”

You smiled, your time had come, you had finally gotten caught red-handed. “Those are for my private collection.”

Negan licked his lips. “Really? Well, maybe I need to start assembling a fucking private portfolio of my own.”

Negan leaned over and brushed some of your hair out of your face. You leaned over and kissed him, you had always wondered how it would feel to be so close to Negan.

He pulled away from the kiss and trailed his finger down the sleeve of your shirt. "Come on darling, show me some skin."

You nodded, fumbling around with your top until it over your head and off your body. “Much better.” Negan groaned as he took photos of your newly exposed body on your camera.

Hearing the reaction you could incite out of Negan made initial stagefright you felt about being so exposed dissipate. In fact, his intense stare was starting to make you feel incredibly desirable. You went ahead and removed more of your clothes and even started to experiment with your poses.

You were lying completely naked on your back. When you heard the telltale sound of your camera turn itself off. It must’ve run out of power.

“Now that my private collection is completed. The real fun can begin.” Negan was sporting his usual shit-eating grin. You watched as he got on his knees and used his hands to pull your legs apart.

You spread your limbs, exposing yourself completely to the man. Negan licked his lips at the glistening wetness between your legs. “Don’t you look good enough to eat?”

He ran a finger down your slit. You shivered at the feeling of his buttery leather glove on your cunt. You whimpered. “Negan, I want you.”

Negan chuckled, removing his finger and pretending not to hear you. “What was that, darlin’?”

You arched your back trying to get closer to Negan’s digits. “I need your mouth between my legs! Please!”

Negan obliged, pressing his tongue flat against your slit, and making you scream. You tried to clamp your legs closed but Negan held them open, keeping your pussy exposed for him. His tongue worked wonders on your cunt. You felt your orgasm radiate from your core and you gave in, letting Negan see you in all your glory. You stretched yourself out on the chaise, enjoying the looseness you felt in your limbs.

You made an attempt to grab your camera from Negan’s hands in your post-orgasmic state. But you were too slow and Negan easily kept the device out of your reach. “Nuh uh, darling. Like I said these are for my private collection”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to pout. Negan smirked at your reaction, “But I’m an equal opportunist. If you never want to print the Sanctuary's own fucking version of Playgirl. You know where to find me.”

Negan pulled the memory card out of your camera and left your office, whistling as he walked down the hallway with the camera’s memory card in the pocket of his leather jacket.

[somevirtualnolife]

A Challenge

2971 Rating: T (To be on the safe side)   Pairing: Mage Trevelyan x Cassandra (Featuring the Skyhold Gang) Summary: Reagan wants Cassandra to have her ideal romance. But where should he start? It’s time to ask the experts.  Previous One Shot: Lost in Translation Author’s Notes: A long one that I’ve been writing for a couple of weeks. I really love the fact that you have to go on a side quest before you can properly  ‘date’ Cassandra. How does the Inquisitor know where to get all the things for the perfect date? This is basically what this is.

You don’t… actually intend to go through with courting me do you?

Cassandra and Reagan’s last little chat had played through his head again and again for the past week. After everything they had been through, after all the moments they had exchanged, after they clearly knew how they felt about each other, she didn’t expect him to court her? Because he was the Inquisitor? Oh, how foolish a challenge she had set for him.

It was not a challenge, milord. The words echoed in the back of his mind.

It was a challenge.

It’s. Not. A. Challenge.

“It is a challenge,” he said under his breath. And he would win.

There was, however, a slight snag in Reagan’s plan to woo the Seeker. The young man had never actually courted anyone. Not properly, that is. Of course, he had relationships in the past, but the Circle wasn’t exactly a space for magical romance, so to speak. There were books of love and romance and poetry, but they were all so old… so dated in their methods. Not to mention that anything remotely romantic was rather discouraged. You couldn’t exactly take someone out to a fancy dinner or a lovely stroll around the town. No, most courting, in his experience, were carried out in secret, writing cryptic love letters and making out in the library, hoping that no one would spot you (he was always spotted). And if you were spotted, hoping that you wouldn’t be reprimanded (he was always reprimanded). One where you didn’t have to lie about never doing it again and having the cycle repeat itself.

Now he finally had a chance at real romance. One without a stern-looking templar and a disappointed enchanter were lecturing you about secret affair despite well knowing that they were also bedding each other.

Andraste’s tits, if the Circles were ever reinstated after this, he knew exactly what changes he’d demand.

But that wasn’t important right now. What was important was that he figured out what to do to impress Cassandra. To give her the perfect evening.

The first thing he had to do was just try to understand the Seeker a bit more. Find out why she was so insistent that she couldn’t be with someone who is the Inquisitor. Which meant that it was time that he asked from the experts. He knew exactly where his first stop should be.

“Commander Cullen!” Reagan said, not bothering to knock the door to his office. Sure enough, the Commander was in his office, standing cross-armed next to a woman with light-brown hair and violet eyes. “Oh, and you’re here too Hawke. Excellent,” He could have two perspectives instead of just one.

“…Inquisitor,” the older man said, trying to hide his annoyance as he took a few steps forward. “Is everything alright? Is there an emergency?”

“Did I come at a bad time?”

“No, you came at a perfectly fine time,” Hawke interjected, smiling at the Inquisitor. “How can we help you?”

“Well, Cullen is Cassandra’s best friend. Aside from Leliana,”

“… I am?”

“She doesn’t threaten you nearly as much as she does the rest of us,” the mage said very casually. That would constitute Cullen being her closest friend in Reagan’s opinion. “You’re also essentially a male, blonder version of her,”

Where are you going with this, Inquisitor?” The commander was already regretting this conversation. It’s not that he disliked Trevelyan by any means. He was actually quite a bright and understanding young man. But every now and then, the Inquisitor was just… odd. That was the only way he could put it.

Reagan quickly closed the door behind him and then got closer and hushed his voice. “I wish to court Cassandra. We both clearly have feelings for each other, but she still seems to think that it’s not possible for us to be together,”

“Did she give you any reasons why?” Hawke asked, leaning back on the Commander’s desk.

“Me being the Inquisitor seemed to be a rather large issue,” Reagan answered. One of those things that he couldn’t exactly change about himself in an instant.  

“Well, I could sort of see her point,” Cullen said, his face returning to its normal shade. “Being the Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste, you’re not just any normal man. You’re a pillar of hope to not only our cause, but all people of Thedas. Cassandra is a woman of strong convictions and duty to the Inquisition. To have a romantic relationship with you… it complicates things,”  

“It doesn’t have to be complicated though,” Hawke added glancing at Cullen for a moment. “Just because you have a fancy title to your name now doesn’t mean it’s the only thing that defines you. Being a hero and being a lover aren’t mutually exclusive. You just need to remind her that you’re a mortal like the rest of us, Herald or not. Of course, you need to be smart about things. Realistic,”

“Both valid points,” Reagan said, nodding in approval. “But I will side with the lovely Aerianne Hawke on this one. No offence Commander,” There was a small ‘ha’ that came from the rogue to which Cullen muttered something about the Maker under his breath. “The question is, what should I do?”

“Well, just as you don’t want to be viewed as only the Inquisitor, I’m sure she doesn’t always to be seen as a Seeker. Surely you must know of some of her interests that don’t involve stabbing someone,” Hawke heard enough stories from Varric, and there was one brief and slightly intimidating conversation they had when she first arrived to Skyohold. Cassandra stare alone was enough to send a shiver down the Champion’s spine.  

Reagan crossed his arms, clearly thinking. It’s funny, it felt like he knew Cassandra so well at times, yet in other ways, he felt like he had a huge blind spot. “She loves to read. But the last time I bought her favorite series for the Skyhold library, she was less than satisfied and forbade me from reading them,”

“You know there are other books Cassandra likes beyond Varric’s spectacularly bad romance series,” Cullen said. “Poetry being one of them,”

I want a man who sweeps me off my feet, gives me flowers and reads me poetry by the candlelight.

The Seeker’s words echoed in Reagan’s ears. He had just assumed she meant that a little as an exaggeration. Just a sort of off-handed comment in the heat of the moment. But, what if…

“Hawke. You’re a modern woman with a heroic past, who’s quite the romantic at heart. Like Cassandra,”

“I am?”

“He’s read Varric’s book. And Varric was very thorough in capturing your personality, surprisingly enough,” Cullen said while Reagan nodded. Hawke groaned and shook her head. She loved the dwarf, but sometimes she wished he would just stop writing. Forever.  

“Okay, yes. I was a bit of a… naïve romanticist at the time,” she said, her cheeks a bit flushed.  “I’ve matured since then, I assure you,”

“Regardless, is your opinion on poetry, candlelight and flowers?”

The rogue snorted slightly “An embarrassing, girlhood fantasy that most grow out of rather quickly when we realize that most men will do the bare minimum to bed us, if that in comparison to all the tales we read,”

Both Reagan and Cullen winced a bit, looking a little cut by her words, but also not dismissing them either. There were exceptions they could think of, certainly, but she wasn’t exactly… incorrect in her statement.

“That came out wrong,” Hawke said, shaking her head when she noticed their expressions. “What I mean to say is that it’s just something that we have in our heads, but we don’t actually expect the real thing to come along. But… if you plan to chase that girlhood fantasy of hers, don’t make her regret telling you about it. You’re the Inquisitor, so make it unique,”

“Make it hers,” Cullen added, nodding in agreement with the Champion for once. He then cleared his throat. “You need to go back to Redcliffe, right? It’s not exactly Val Royeaux, but from what I recall, they used to have a decent book selection in town, with some unique finds… if you find the right merchant,”

Reagan’s green eyes lit up with excitement. That’s what he was talking about. Proper application to theory. A  real lead! “Right. Redcliffe!”

“Fereldan’s not much for flowers or intricate bouquets though. You may need to go elsewhere for those,”

“You know about bouquets? Well, now I’m curious who you’re trying to court,” the rogue teased, nudging him with her hip.

“That’s not- it was a long time ago,” Cullen stammered. “Stop trying to pry into my private affairs!”

“Not a problem, Commander. You might not know, but I think a certain Grey Warden might be able to point me in the right direction,” Regan grinned as he opened the door behind him again. “Well, this was both incredibly riveting and helpful. Don’t tell Cassandra,”  

“Good luck, Inquisitor,” Hawke said with a casual wave with a slight nod from Cullen. As the door closed behind him, Reagan could briefly hear Cullen begin to say something to Hawke, but he couldn’t quite catch it. No doubt more bickering either way.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Flowers?” Blackwall said as he put his tools down beside the latest wooden griffon he had been carving.

“They’re for Cassandra,” So much for keeping this a secret.

The bearded man laughed a bit. “Eyeing the Lady Seeker are you? I can see why. She’s a very striking. Good for you,”

The mage let out a sigh of relief. He knew that Blackwall would understand. Cassandra and him seemed to have a mutual respect for each other during combat, and on occasion, would catch a pint together at the tavern. Reagan was also quite find of the older man. The Grey Warden reminded him a little of his uncle when he was younger.

“I was hoping you could figure out something that Cassandra would like. You do seem to be the flower expert around here,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Blackwall, I’m the Inquisitor. I inquisite things,”

“I believe you mean inquire about things,”

“Details. I pass by Josephine’s desk nearly every day. I grew curious of the lovely flowers fixed there and couldn’t help but ask about them. They’re a nice choice,” Reagan thought it was actually a very lovely and endearing gesture. If only he had thought of it before! That would have been the perfect thing to do for Cassandra. Really get his point across.

Blackwall coughed. Perhaps he had even blushed, but you couldn’t tell with the beard.“Well, there aren’t much flowers to be had in the northern mountains other than those ones. However, the next time you’re in Val Royeaux, I’m sure you’ll be able to fine a nice variety. Even in times of civil war, those Orlesians always seem to find a way to preserve beauty, I’ll give them that,”

The mage nodded. Val Royeaux and Redcliffe were a little far from each other, but it’s not like he wasn’t travelling between the two often enough anyway. He’d just be sure that the flowers were to be last on his list. Speaking of list, he still had one more item that he had to get.

“You wouldn’t also happen to know anything about romantic candles?”

“That I can’t help you with, but I’m sure there are two pompous mages that may be able to nudge you in the right direction,”

-------------------------------------------------------

“Reagan, my darling,” Vivienne said, looking away from the chessboard and to the Inquisitor with both pity and disappointment. “You’re from a wealthy family. And you’re a mage who has studied the flame extensively… you’re trying to tell me that you don’t know which candles to buy for a romantic evening?”

“He’s from the Free Marches, the poor boy. What do you expect? If you have one servant there, it’s considered high class,” Dorian said with a shrug as he moved one of his pieces across the board.

“Oh, that’s true,” the woman shuddered. “And they actually think that Fereldan cheese is good,”

“Ew, that’s horrifying. No wonder your cousin ran off to Tevinter, Inquisitor,”  

“While I’m glad that you’re both getting along swimmingly after all this time, I’d appreciate it if it wasn’t at my expense,” the Inquisitor said with slight irritation in his voice. There was no living with them when they actually agreed on something.

“Oh darling, you know that we love you just the way you are,” the First Enchanter waved her hand a little dismissively at younger mage. “Perfect the way you are. Well. Almost. Your hair has gotten shaggier these days, so you really should get a haircut. And a wardrobe. Be thankful that you’ve your mother’s Antivan charms to get you through all of… this,” Vivienne looked as though she wanted to say more about the topic of how he presented himself, but that would be for another time. “Obviously none of that matters when it comes to Seeker Pentaghast as she already appeared quite smitten with you,”  

“I was wondering why Cassandra’s cheeks looked so flushed anytime your name was brought up. Ha! Good on you messerre! She could use a younger man in her life. Get the stiffness out of her armour,” Dorian said with a mischievous grin.

Reagan would be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought of the Seeker without her armour. Or much else at all. Her curves pressed up against his body as they intertwined for an evening of passion. But that would come later. This was all about her fantasy right now! Not his.

Well, a little bit of his.  

“So, candles,” he said, snapping back into reality.

“Right. Candles,” Dorian said, knowing exactly what the Inquisitor had been thinking about. “Cassandra seems to be the type of person who would appreciate something that has a subtle, refreshing smell. Something like the floral smell Crystal Grace,”

“Oh yes. Crystal Grace seems to be quite a la mode. I’m sure you could find some lovely candles with that scent in Val Royeaux. Oh, let me get you the name of a lovely shop. If they don’t have any, they can no doubt have some made for you,” Vivienne added.

Right, so candles and flowers in Val Royeaux, poetry from Redcliffe. Not too bad and he knew exactly where he was going to set it all up. This was perfect. Cassandra wouldn’t know what hit her. “I knew I could count on you two,”

“Darling, but of course,”

“Who else could you count on for impeccable taste in this place?”  

“I’ll leave you your game then,” the Inquisitor said with a slight wave as the two mages went back to playing chess, throwing witty insults at each other.

-----------------------------------------------------

There he had it. He had the list, he had the reason, now it was just a matter of getting it all organized and not jeopardizing any Inquisition business, as much as he wanted to just push it all aside. But still, he knew that Cassandra would be even more upset if he shirked his work because of her.

Speaking of the Seeker herself, he had been so lost in his thoughts that he had nearly bumped into her which pulled him back to the present.  

“Ah, Lady Pentaghast,” Reagan grinned. “Always a pleasure to bump into the most beautiful woman in Skyhold,”

“You will have to try a little harder than that by this point, Inquisitor,” she said, crossing her arms with a bit of a sigh.

“Ah, but I am allowed to try now?”

“Well, it seems that there is no stopping you when you’ve made up your mind about something, is there?” It was clear that she still didn’t understand what Reagan saw in her, but she also didn’t seem to mind the attention as much as she previously did. The way that she was with him now seemed to display restraint, but also a certain desire and curiosity. Reagan a little was less ambiguous lately, showing restraint in many of his actions, but very little on his words.  

“And I assure you, I intend to put in every bit of effort that you deserve, milady,” he said, grinning with an overly former bow.

The Seeker shook her head with a sigh, but there was a small smile that formed on her face as she did so. Reagan was a bit of a fool., but a charming one, she’d give him that. “And what does the Inquisitor have in mind?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be any fun if I told you, would it?” he said, taking her hand in his and lifting it up to his lips, kissing. The Seeker felt her cheeks flush and her body stiffen, but she didn’t pull away. “Well, I suppose it would, but then I would just want to do more than just talk,”  

“Oh? Would you now?”

“I would. And many times before this,” he pulled his lips away from her hand, but still ran his thumb over her fingers, playfully. Something he hadn’t had a chance to do for some time. “But of course, there are many things to be done before that, isn’t there? That’s all part of the fun of courting. Or so I’ve heard,”    

There was a small chuckle in the Seeker’s voice. “Well, I’ll have to wait until you complete the challenge, then, won’t I?”

“Why, Lady Pentaghast. I thought you told me it wasn’t a challenge,”

The dark-haired Seeker then lightly pulled her hand out of his and swept by him.

“I’ve changed my mind,” was all she said before walking off.

And so it was just that; a challenge.

And Reagan Trevelyan couldn’t be happier.