#and she's so clearly illustrated with Jean in those ending stills

[crimsonalchemistress]

So... let me get this straight...

Ymir was essentially trapped in a timeless eternal stasis because of her yearning for King Fritz... and she chose Mikasa to set her free... Mikasa who was similarly hopelessly devoted to a powerful figure who could never fully return Mikasa's affections... and Mikasa liberating Ymir ended the Curse of Ymir and all the Titan fuckery...

And people still want to say that Mikasa would be hung up on Eren for the rest of her life and never move on.

'Kay.

[dolphin1812]

The passive-aggressiveness towards the chief justice in the description of the house of the Rue Plumet is kind of funny:

“but behind the pavilion there was a narrow courtyard, and at the end of the courtyard a low building consisting of two rooms and a cellar, a sort of preparation destined to conceal a child and nurse in case of need”

The “in case of need” makes me laugh when it was clearly intended to be used that way, given that the paragraph begins with the note that the chief justice used this place for his mistress.

This detail was hilarious:

“Only the birds beheld this curiosity. It is probable that the linnets and tomtits of the last century gossiped a great deal about the chief justice.”

It simultaneously sets up the house as one tied to nature (it attracts lots of birds) and gives us the image of avian gossip circles.

The house is an escape from the convent. Aside from the general creepiness of it when we first read about it and the comparisons to prisons there, here, Valjean being “condemned” to the galleys is explicitly equated with Cosette being “condemned” to the convent if they’d stayed. This choice offers Cosette freedom, even if she benefited from the convent’s education and the shelter it provided for all of those years.

While “give Cosette freedom” is a noble goal, Valjean’s way of thinking about it is sad. His fear that Cosette will hate him is heartbreaking, and rather than conceptualizing the matter as what’s best for her, he imagines keeping her in the convent as a crime - more specifically, as a “robbery.” Even his relationship with his daughter is analyzed through the lens of his “crime,” with Valjean seeking to avoid being a thief again rather than to act in her best interest. He does do so in the end, and he does love her. The issue is more that his problems with his own self-image (seeing himself as a criminal) affect his ability to provide for Cosette in a way that’s healthy for himself. Cosette still gets the freedom she needs, but Valjean can’t think about that in a way that doesn’t make her rights a reflection of his morality. Worst of all, he doesn’t begin to think about Cosette’s freedom because of something she says or does; he thinks about it because he feels “too happy” in the convent:

“It will be remembered that Jean Valjean was happy in the convent, so happy that his conscience finally took the alarm.”

Leaving the convent is a good thing for Cosette, but unfortunately, it’s a move fueled most of all by Jean Valjean’s lack of self-worth. Having felt happy, he decided that something must be wrong – because how could he feel happy? – and sought to “rectify” whatever it was, with the constant fear that Cosette would hate him lingering in the background.

Moreover, while the house is freer than the convent, it’s not without its problems. Hugo’s phrasing in describing how this house was used for affairs may be funny, but it does reveal this place’s ties to an older social order, one embodied by M Gillenormand. That the house is run down may imply that these ties have eroded, but it’s nonetheless true that Cosette and her father will have to navigate the existing social order here to a much greater extent than in the convent. And having seen what being treated as a “mistress” in this time led to for Fantine, that can be dangerous, too.

Jean Valjean also can’t shake his old habits of isolating himself. Again, these habits are based on legitimate fears to an extent; not having neighbors and having various safehouses shelters him from the scrutiny of others and from the police. At the same time, he himself knows how unlikely it is that anyone’s looking for him after disappearing for so many years, especially with how much age has changed him. It’s difficult to evaluate how much his precautions are reasonable and how much they illustrate his constant need to hide, but they certainly leave both him and Cosette isolated. Being out of the convent may have actually limited her social circle, since she now only has Valjean to talk to instead of having the other pupils as well), and both of them are likely grieving Fauchelevent to some extent. This isolation is, again, understandable, but it’s not good for either of them.

Spoilers below:

The introduction to this house feels so representative of all it comes to be as well. It’s “solemn” and secretive because that’s what Valjean is. A house made to conceal is ideal to him. And yet what it’s supposed to hide is an affair, which is somewhat fitting for the place where Cosette first experiments with romance. The garden not only serves as the site of this, but symbolizes her youth as she enters the “spring” of her life. It combines Valjean’s sad secrecy with her blossoming youth and need for change, just as the plants in a garden transform each season.

[bloody-wonder]

Every time I come across one of those posts or fics about how Andrew should feel bad about choking Kevin/how it was bad writing for Nora to have Andrew do it, it always seems to be Kevin superfans who are upset that Kandreil didn’t make it into the final draft. And every time I’m just baffled. How can people possibly feel so slighted by the exclusion of a pairing that Nora has said wouldn’t have made sense or been healthy in the final story anyway? The entitlement is just ridiculous

wowowow some juicy unpopular opinions are on the menu today!

i have a lot to say so buckle up. it’s gonna be one of those rants.

i have answered an ask about choking already. to sum it up: is choking kevin an acceptable mature way to express frustration at your bf being kidnapped by the mafia? no. is it in character for andrew? yes. will andrew apologize for it? no. will he and kevin still be friends? yes. 

first of all, i personally don’t see why kandreil would be unhealthy. i haven’t read nora’s statement about it but she didn’t elaborate, did she? it would be interesting to know why she thinks so but that’s unlikely to happen seeing as every word she utters about the characters she created gets her unproportional amounts of hate.

that being said, i totally see why kandreil would be out of character for the versions of kevin, neil and andrew that we see in the books. the relationships between kevin and the other two are certainly intense but i wish i didn’t have to suggest in the year of our lord 2020 that relationships can be intense without being sexual or romantic.

lets look at neil who’s canonically demi which means he has to have a profound emotional bond with a person in order to feel something like that for them. he has developed this bond with andrew throughout the books because they have similar backgrounds and are uniquely positioned to understand each other but more importantly because neil was put in a situation where he had to constantly actively communicate with andrew. andreil dialogues take up a large part of the books and enable us to see how andreil develops and works. nothing comparable happens between neil and kevin. they have a different dynamic altogether where neil looks up to kevin in the beginning for his exy skills and in turn kevin looks up to neil in the end for his being feisty in the face of imminent doom skills. neil chose to throw his anonymity away in order to stand up for kevin at kathy’s show which must mean he values kevin a lot, but he also antagonized him throughout the books, faulted him for not getting over his trauma in a timely manner and said the meanest things to him. a great and complex dynamic by all means. i have no complaints whatsoever and certainly don’t see them falling in love.

now lets look at andrew who isn’t aspec and has probably checked kevin out seeing as kevin is conventionally attractive. kevin & andrew is one of the most complex and interesting relationships i’ve ever seen in fiction. when we first encounter them their interactions are so intense that many readers (and neil) have interpreted them as a couple (because like i said before we tragically live in a society where tension is always seen as sexual). kevin and andrew met at such a time in their lives when they sorely needed something only the other was able to give: for kevin it was someone to stop him from returning to an abusive environment and for andrew it was someone who could see his real potential and worth behind his hostile manic exterior. so they started this weird co-dependent non-friendship which didn’t turn into anything else because - my big guess - neither of them wanted it to. andrew knows when he wants to fuck someone and knows how to arrange it but he didn’t with kevin because he already was a more important person to him than, for example, roland. the risks outweighed the benefits. but andrew did “arrange” it with neil probably because neil had something to offer which kevin had not. unlike kevineil where extensive relationship development had to take place in order for it to happen, kandrew could happen just because one of them suggested it. but guess what neither of them did and it’s canon. i for one am very happy that this unique exciting relationship wasn’t spoiled by romance.

finally lets look at kevin who isn’t a pov character like neil nor a character who’s constantly in neil’s focus of attention like andrew. we don’t have a comparable amount of information about kevin’s inner world so we have to surmise a lot of it just based on what neil cared to impart. so naturally the interpretations will differ. i personally see no signs of kevin being attracted to any person or any gender at any point in the books. there’s thea of course but she’s such an obvious last minute addition that i don’t even want to consider her. the kevin i know is living his best life as an unmarried childless aroace exy legend surrounded by friends and family and friends who are family. i’m aroace and imagining kevin single and happy is very important to me. it’s probably equally important to kandreil shippers to see some good polyamorous rep which is only slightly less rare in media than aroace rep. but the difference between me and kandreil shippers is that i have a magical ability to disagree with the author without cursing the very earth she walks upon.

ah yes, another difference is of course that they have an argument set in stone - kandreil was canon in earlier drafts. but do you know what else was there in the earlier drafts? jean was dead in them. so was erik in some of them which made nicky a different person altogether. also i distinctly remember nora writing that she has been developing this story for so long that she has shipped all the possible pairings at some point or another. kandreil aren’t special in that sense. what i am getting at is that in order to have a productive discussion we have to choose a particular draft of the story and stick to it, so if it’s a kandreil draft we have to know what else was different in that version, and if it’s the books then well kandreil isn’t canon in them end of story. 

that of course doesn’t mean that people can’t write absolutely stellar kandreil fanfics but it does mean that they have to dial down what you called “the entitelment”. because aftg means different things to different readers and if you insult the author for writing it the way you don’t like you also insult the readers who see themselves represented in the way the story is written. and kandreil fans are so aggressive. it’s smart of you sending the ask on anon cause otherwise they’d come for you so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you. just the other day i saw a post which basically said that the reason kevin is portrayed in fics in such a reductive way and writers don’t know what to do with him except make fun of his exy obsession and alcoholism is because andreil is built on the bones of kandreil and, being excluded from this relationship by the author, kevin can never be happy. this take right here illustrates very clearly that the shipping culture damages human brain in such a way that a fulfilling life outside a romantic relationship becomes inconcievable. fic writers diminish kevin to those things not because nora decided she wants her final draft to be about andreil, but because most of them aren’t able to write about a character unless they’re in a relationship. maybe some day fanfiction will develop past that but today is not that day.

i have read some kandreil fanfiction to see what the fuss is all about and my expert opinion is that all of it is ooc. clearly in order for kandreil to happen some manipulations with the existing characters have to be made. i consider myself a kevin superfan but i mean the kevin as he is in the books (and in my awesome hc). the kevin in kandreil fics i don’t know, he’s a character from a book i didn’t read so he can do whatever and date whoever, i don’t care either way. i only care when people insult the books, andreil or nora because they’re bitter that their ship isn’t canon. what a way to live in the year of our lord 2020. 

[harrowscore]

Mikasa Ackermann, Levi Ackermann, Amane Misa, Aeron Greyjoy for the charactet ask :3

SOMEONE HEARD MY PRAYERS AND NOW MY TIME HAS COME, tysm!!!!! <3

okay, let's start with levi (my beloved):

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life (THEE little feral anime man after my heart)

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang (Dark, Tall and Snarky + piercing grey-blue eyes and chronic insomnia? clearly my type ❤)

hogwarts house: gryffindor (maybe....?) | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

ugh, the hp sorting house system is way too reductive. he has qualities of gryffindor, slytherin, and hufflepuff - brave, astute, loyal to a fault, etc. so it's a hard choice. but if i really have to choose, i'd go for gryffindor. i know that his Bad Boy facade shouts slytherin, but while he has larger goals (killing all the titans, then saving the world etc.), he's got no actual ambition for himself. hufflepuff would also be a good option.

daemon (from the his dark materials series): (because i've just decided that's just way more accurate than the hp method) some kind of big feline. maybe a panther - a black panther would be the ideal - aloof, predatory, dangerous, fiercely independent.

best quality: besides his obvious strenghts as a leader and warrior, the way he cares for his comrades-in-arms. it's very hard to gain his trust and respect, but once you have it, it's forever. he's pragmatic and ruthless, yes, but he also has a huge capacity for compassion and friendship. not that he would be effusive about his affections, of course.

worst quality: none, he's absolutely perfect ❤ jklsdfhjk jokes aside, he really struggles to open up (a serious understatement), idt he ever talked about his traumatic past with anyone. i mean, maybe he mentioned it to hange and erwin (erwin knew him when he was still an undergound thug, so...), but... he's not great with feelings. despite his apathetic, intimidating mask, he feels and cares deeply, but he has a long history with losing the people he loves, so he tries to not personally care about his squadmates, which can be both a strenght and a weakness. of course, he spectacularly fails at this.

ship them with: well, it's not a secret that i'm a huge rivamika fan, this ship is almost literally consuming my waking thoughts lmao. imo they're perfectly compatible: very similar personalities (stoic, the strongest warriors, absolutely terrifying on the battlefield but with a soft underbelly), very similar pasts/experiences, so many parallels that it's actually ridiculous, etc. i love how they're both each other's equals and likeness (yes, i took it from jane eyre. no, i don't regret anything lmao). a lot of tropes i love, too: Terrible First Impression (the Pride and Prejudice vibes are so strong with these two, you have no idea), Kindred Spirits/Mirror Images, Veteran/Young Prodigy, The Last of Their Kind, even Height Difference lmao. i could write a whole rivamika manifesto, but this is already too long. (maybe for some other time 👀) i would've loved for their dynamic to be more explored in canon but alas, isayama clearly didn't give a shit about the ackerman legacy, he just used it as a plot shortcut to give them conveniently unique powers, since they never really talked about it 🙄 (and before some troll comes into my askbox shouting "you iNcEsT fReAk!!!!1!!", they're only very distantly related. we know shit about the ackermans but we know for sure that they've got at least several generations between them. biologically their shared DNA is 0%, obviously they don't see each other as family, all the eldians have a dead ass common ancestor from 2000 years ago so they're all basically ⁓related anyway. if you really wanna scream about i.ncest, go watch got/dark/the borgias and shut the fuck up please. or alternatively go outside and touch some grass) sorry for the rant, uh. anyway, i can also see levi/erwin. idk if i'd ever care enough to read a fic about them (i'm usually a huge multishipper, but for some weird reason not when it comes to rivamika? same with braime and kastle tbh), but still, i can see it.

brotp them with: hange and erwin, obv. veteran trio >>> ema trio, sorry not sorry (at least h. and e. died before yams had the chance to ruin their character arcs)

needs to stay away from: ...uh, filth, i guess? lmao

misc. thoughts: besides the stupid teenage fangirl crush i have on him, i'm genuinely fascinated by the man himself. he's a huge mess of a contradictions, and yet somehow it works: he's violent and brash and kind of an asshole, but also has a strong moral code and integrity; he's obv very skilled at all the killing/torturing stuff and yet he has a huge respect for life; he's got a potty mouth to say the least, and yet some very aristocratic manners/tastes (the way he sits, his preference for tea and usually refined clothes); he comes from what's supposed to be an illustrous bloodline, he's methodical and very precise, and yet he was born and raised in the underground, he's been used to filth and blood and poverty since he was a child, kenny of all people was his father figure, and probably has known no other life than a perennial survival mode existence. he's "humanity's strongest soldier", but while well-built he's also small, the david to the titans' goliah, and probably not what people would assume a born warrior looks like. he's also one of the few characters who stayed true to himself and his original characterization until the end, bless you smol king ❤

(okay, this is getting long!)

mikasa:

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them (so much. she deserved better ❤️) | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! (stunning lady ❤) | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

this is actually easy: mikasa belongs to hufflepuff and no, i won't take criticism (just joking lol). enough with this "hufflepuffs are fluffy puppies/Cinnamon Rolls <3" thing: mikasa values loyalty and duty more than anything else. she's also hardworking... and fierce, strong, lethal. yes, hufflepuff and lethal are not mutually exclusive concepts.

daemon: (finally the better option) a she-wolf, fiercely protective of her pack.

best quality: loyal, brave, incredibly strong (alongside her more fragile qualities). practical and level-headed on the battlefield, at least when eren is not included in the picture.

worst quality: struggles to let go of the past (understandable, considering her trauma). tunnel-vision when it comes to eren, obv. extreme levels of delusions ("if only i spoke openly about my romantic feelings for him - as if i didn't made them abundantly clear in ⁓6 years - he wouldn't kill 80% of humanity :(((" lmao okay. just. okay), but that's more on the writing. she's sadly more static than any other main character throughtout the whole series.

ship them with: see above :) but recently i've also started to be intrigued by mikasa/annie and mikasa/sasha. also, i'm sympathetic to jeankasa fans, though i don't actually care for the ship.

brotp them with: EMA trio, especially armin+mikasa. their friendship is so beautiful and special. also sasha.

needs to stay away from: ...... eren, at least romantically. again, that's more on the writing than anything else, but e.remika unfortunately encompasses many tropes i loathe with all the strength of my old shriveled heart: childhood friends-to lovers where the (male) childhood friend doesn't acknolewdge/is completely indifferent to the other (female) friend's romantic feelings, she hopelessly pines for him for years without anything more than a cold shoulder... until in the last chapter it's revealed that he loved her all along and doesn't "want other men to have her!!! :((" (then why did you have no reaction whatsoever to jean's years-long crush on her while she was jealous of any vaguely female-shaped human being you were friendly to, including hange? are you that dumb, man?); the female character's development and entire arc 100% revolves around the male protagonist - she has no goals, no dreams of her own except staying with him forever and ever; the romance is based on an idealized childhood dream, therefore reaffirming those childish illusions would make the character regress, not actually grow up (and nope, epilogue!jk doesn’t count; that also lacks build-up - i would’ve said the same about rm as well, so it’s not about shipping, guys, it really isn’t - and mikasa needed an inner change; getting married to another man but still praying to eren’s shrine is not substitute to actual development lol). post-time skip she's never really frustrated/angry with him, they never get a confrontation about him becoming a, y'know, mass-murderer of gigantic (pun intended) proportions; she puts him on a pedestal, and never stops idealizing him/never sees him for what he actually is (the narrative framing him as some kind of tragic martyr/saint eren from paradis with zero agency and basically... no clear motivation for the abovementioned mass murder, and not the actual complex tragic anti-hero/villain motivated by revenge and righteous fury he deserved to be, does not help). it lacks a good or even decent build-up - it's basically all tell and not show. now, if they'd actually been childhood friends to enemies to lovers/mutually co-dependent... it could have been interesting. sadly, it's not my cup of tea. of course this is just my personal preference, no hard feelings to the shippers.

misc. thoughts: enormous potential. she's been my fav female character since s1 - and ah, i miss s1!mikasa, when she had actually other stuff to do besides mothering eren. i love that she's the strongest warrior (second only to levi, obv), that her skills are never called into questions despite her gender, i love how she stands up for herself and the people she loves, that she may seem cold and stoic and yet has a such a huge heart, that she's not perfect but also sometimes awe-inspiring. sadly, she never really gets out of eren's shadow; what she lacks is an arc focused on herself. that's why imo getting deeper into the ackerman lore would've helped (also, you cannot make the main female character and the most popular male character descend from the same Unique Bloodline or whatever, and never really make them acknowledge it out loud; as a writer, you just can't lol). my spite is so strong that i'm currently writing a ridiculously pretentious fic that's 70% development for her character, to give her a voice, and 30% ackerthirsting. (yes, that's the fic i'm always vagueblogging about lmao, rip @ my brain). if any other rivamika fan is interested… mind you, it’s in italian tho, and idt i have the skills to translate into english.

misa:

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

daemon: mmh, maybe some kind of butterfly? beautiful, colorful, and short-lived.

best quality: glorious fashion sense, more inventive and ingenious than fans actually give her credit for.

worst quality: shallow, impulsive, and obv her dependence on/obsession with light (which stems from trauma btw, but still… the very opposite of a relationship between equals).

ship them with: rem, kinda (monster/human ftw!). also weirdly enough mogi, a little bit? she deserves someone who actually respects her… though she’s far from being a perfect angel. she may actually be crazier than light on some aspects. but in this house we stan evil ladies anyway, so i have no problem with that <3

brotp them with: uh, idk, maybe matsuda?

needs to stay away from: obv light. also takada.

misc. thoughts: a tragic victim of sexist writing. she may be… unhinged to say the least, but she didn’t deserve the abuse she got from light (and from the fans). the female characters’ writing in dn is so bad that idk if it’s on purpose, to kinda mirror the reality of women in a patriarchal society (dependent on men, housewives whose life entirely revolves around their husband/boyfriend etc.), or just casual misogyny lol. it’s even more baffling since we don’t know the author’s gender (they may be a man, a woman, nb, anything really). i tend for the latter option tho.

aegon greyjoy (now, i wasn’t expecting him lol):

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

i’m so sorry, i haven’t the slightest idea lmao. maybe gryffindor? mind you, it’s been a long time since i’ve re-read the books, so i don’t have many thoughts about him.

daemon: maybe it’s cliché, but some kind of fish/squid lmao

best quality: ugh, i really can’t remember much from his chapters :(( he’s not a coward, i guess? (lame answer, sorry!)

worst quality: definitely his religious fanaticism.

ship them with: no one.

brotp them with: uh… his family, ig? except euron.

needs to stay away from: obv euron. brr ://

misc. thoughts: i genuinely like the greyjoys chapters, though i vastly prefer the martells (with the exception of theon and asha, bcs i love them). yes, they’re deranged. yes, victarion is… well, victarion lol. but the drowned god religion is actually interesting, grrm knows how to write trauma - every time aeron mentions euron and that freaking door i’m like… :// - and the tragedy of it all… just great writing all around.

okay, that’s the end lmao. thank you so much, love!!! ❤❤

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 8/18

gif not mine just the text

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7]

--

It was a busy night; full of nightmares and scares. Flavia Hodges didn’t sleep a wink all night, and consequently, neither did Kate. Around four o’clock in the morning, she fell into the bed next to the teacher’s, only to be woken up two hours later.

Cassandra Steiner shook the young healer’s shoulder until she opened her eyes. As if a rock were strapped to her chest, Kate slowly stood up and put her palm to one eye to get the sleep away.

“Have you spent the night here?” She only answered Cassandra with a nod and looked up to see that Professor Hodges was still sleeping.

“I couldn’t leave. She had nightmares all night, screaming, keeping us all awake. She said she didn’t want to teach anymore, she was quitting, and she’d tell the headmistress today.”

Cassandra tapped her fingers on her thigh. “Anything else?”

Kate looked down, “No.” Steiner nodded before leaving her side.

She decided not to comment that she thought Flavia was trying to pronounce Karkarov’s name, keeping the information for Astrid Rhode.

“I don’t want to give her more calming draught,” Kate began as she stood up, “I’m worried that...”

When she reached Flavia’s side, she removed some silver curls from in front of her ear and came over to inspect her neck. She pressed her eyes tightly, still struggling to keep them open, and looked again.

“Miss Steiner?” She said over her shoulder. Cassandra returned to her side with an almost exasperated look.

“Now what’s going on?”

“Look at this mark. It’s a bruise, but look closer.” Kate stepped aside to make room for her, and the mediwizard ducked to her level.

“It’s like a little hole. From a puncture...” Cassandra hummed, and after checking that she had no more marks, she got up to talk to Kate.

“Well, this is the ultimate proof: it was intentional and someone tried to kill her.”

“The foam coming out of her mouth didn’t convince you?” Steiner threw a fake smile at the comment, not too pleased with the sarcasm.

“You know what? Take the rest of the day off. And tomorrow, too. Come back on Monday.”

Of all the things Kate expected for her to say, that wasn’t one of them. Steiner kept talking but only heard that she was also giving another mediwizard a day off.

“If you leave now, you’ll get to breakfast before the kids.” With that, Cassandra turned around and set about ordering some untagged bottles.

Kate stood and watched Cassandra before slowly walking to the door. With one last look and a wrinkle between her eyebrows, she left the hospital wing and, without bothering to go through the dining room, decided to go straight up to her room.

She skipped lunch, too, having slept through the afternoon; she saw no daylight that Saturday because when she woke up, storm clouds were stalking the castle, leaving everything in darkness.

The respite Cassandra gave her, apart from being confusing and somewhat suspicious, also proved to be very convenient; Kate took advantage of that afternoon to recover her strength, which was rapidly beginning to run out.

She escaped to the kitchens without being seen, read the first of the stories in Corentin’s book, put her notes in order in her notebook, and was able to enjoy an afternoon without those bulky uniform skirts, sighing with relief when she could dress up in Charlie’s T-shirt and simple jeans.

She had also taken the opportunity to visit headmistress Rhode’s office, but she had left in a hurry to her class. She said that if she wanted to talk to her, she should go the next afternoon.

When her eyes got tired of reading in the dim light of her candle, she put her cape on the desk and placed the book and notebook right on top. With a quill, she traced part of the outline of the objects on the cloth and while looking at the parchment Corentin had written; she spent the rest of the afternoon entertaining herself with a needle.

 The next day, rested but not quite composed, Kate evaluated her options. She put her uniform back on, and with her new pockets sewn into her cloak, she armed herself with her notebook and book and set off on her adventure.

After breakfast, she walked through the halls, stopping to ask where the herbology class was being held, and after several confusing and contradictory directions, she left the castle.

The storm that finally decided to fall the night before had left the skies clear and cold, and Kate was grateful for the magical properties of her uniform that kept her from freezing.

She stopped short when she realised where she had ended up around the corner. The outer corridor where Corentin showed her the mark of Grindelwald. Only this time, she appeared at the other end.

With her head tilted to her right, she looked for the number 82 plaque that indicated the herbology classroom. It didn’t take long to find it, and when she arrived, she turned to look around.

There were few people outside. From where she stood she could clearly see the column with the mark, the quidditch field in the distance, and part of one of the lakes surrounding the castle.

The door was open, and she ventured inside with a determined step.

She was not sure what she expected to find. It had a blackboard that occupied an entire wall, a desk with a pile of books on it, and student desks that were facing it.

She went over to the desk and started opening drawers. A quill and several scrolls were all she found.

Then she inspected the books, the same ones Flavia had dropped that fateful day. She opened the one on top of the pile.

She could not resist raising her eyebrows at the innocent, and in her opinion, boring contents. She remembered the lessons with Professor Sprout and how they spent the days with their hands buried in pots.

“Do they learn anything from this? It doesn’t even have enough drawings,” she said under her breath and immediately chuckled as he imagined Corentin excited by some good illustrations.

She closed the book and sighed thoughtfully. There was no indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

“Let’s see,” she began moving to the board. She raised one arm and pretended to write. “I am Flavia Hodges, professor of herbology. I’m in my boring class, with no... posters or pictures, with my boring books and my bored students.”

She walked over to the desk and picked up all the books and immediately put them back down.

“Okay, you were carrying them with magic, weren’t you? So you should have been concentrated and just thinking about that.” She said to no one.

With a gesture of the wand the books raised in the air and Kate took them to the door, she went out and she continued through the corridor recreating the steps that Flavia must have done.

“There’s no one now, but at the time, I was walking among a wave of students and teachers who come from here to there.”

She looked at the column and switched the books to the side to see it better and went on her way.

“So I keep walking with my books, where am I going? To the library?”

She reached the end of the corridor and saw the stairs leading up to the castle where she and Corentin went.

“I go up those stairs and immediately collapse.” She turned to see the long road she had travelled. “And something happened between the classroom and the stairs. But what?”

She turned again, but she crashed against a firm body. Distracted, all the books fell to the floor.

“Hey! Where are you going in such a hurry?” Kent Jorgensen was standing in front of her with smiling eyes. “Were you going to return the books to Corentin?”

Kate made all the books back into an orderly pile as she thought about how to answer.

“Yes. Yes, exactly.” Jorgensen nodded.

“It’s very kind of you to help Flavia with everything that’s happening to her. Cassandra told me that you took the day off today and since I found you, perhaps you would like to join me,” he nodded towards the quidditch field.

“Today is game day, quite an experience.”

“Better not. I must take these books and... I don’t want to leave Professor Hodges alone. I know it’s my day off, but...”

“Nonsense. You deserve a break, and Cassandra can handle herself. So do these books.” He shook his wand and the mountain of copies rose in the air and made their way to the stairs; the door opened, and they disappeared inside the castle.

“Come on, you’ll have fun.” He said as he started to walk.

Kate sighed and followed in his footsteps, thinking that attending one, and only one, of the games would be enough to fulfil the promise she had made to Charlie and thus answer any questions he might have.

They walked together in silence, only accompanied by the sounds of screams and laughter that became more and more audible.

“No wonder there’s no one in the castle, everyone’s here.” Kate said as she arrived at the field.

“Oh, yes, we take it very seriously. First-year students are training now, but then the real game starts.”

A man with deep brown skin and the roundest eyes Kate’s ever seen, was in the middle of the field and when they were spotted, he raised his hand to greet them in their direction with a big smile.

Jorgensen reciprocated both the greeting and the joyous expression.

“That’s Sheyi Mawut, the coach, the best one!” He corrected, “He played for the Tchamba Charmers, do you know the team?”

“Yes, my b... yes, I’ve heard about them.” She cut the sentence before she could mention Charlie, and luckily the teacher was so engrossed in watching the man that he ignored it completely.

“Why don’t you find a seat, I’ll say hi to Sheyi.” Jorgensen said without looking at her, and started off on his way to center field.

Kate watched as the two chatted animatedly, patting each other on the back and laughing together.

 While climbing the stairs she dodged several boys and girls until she finally found a free place in the last row.

It was hard to think that the calm and wise looking Professor Jorgensen would have behaved so irrationally; accusing Libor Marek of stealing his ingredients. If it was true, Kate didn’t know.

At all times, she had to be reminded that everyone, including her, played a part in the plot she was in and no one was who they said they were.

She was about to close the book after reading the last word, when she heard a voice beside her.

Taking advantage of the sun and the wait, Kate reached into her cape and pulled out the Tales of Beedle the Bard, opening it for the second story: The Fountain of Good Fortune.

“Excuse me, you’re the healer who treated Professor Hodges, right?”

Kate looked up and found a blonde girl whose face was familiar. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“My name is Vic. You asked me for help when she was poisoned...”

“Yes, it’s true. Can I help you? Are you all right?” Vic shook her hands and her head.

“It’s not that, it’s just...” She sat down next to her and kept whispering, “I thought I should tell you that Professor Hodges didn’t accidentally fall down the stairs.”

Kate slammed the book shut and leaned over. “She didn’t?”

“I didn’t see it, but my best friend told me she saw the main staircase turn into a slide and then disappear.” She paused before adding, “In other circumstances I would have thought it was silly, but...”

“I understand. Thanks for telling me.”

“I really don’t understand. Why would anyone want to hurt Hodges? The only enemies she can have are her 15 students... if you can call them enemies…”

“Only fifteen?” Kate asked in surprise.

“Yes, herbology is only taught in the first year. Then it is an elective, but generally no one is interested. Popular lessons are Dark arts; with Rhode, advanced duelling and potions.”

“Yes, I know that...”

More and more people gathered in the seats in the stands as the centre of the camp was cleared. Coach Mawut, in his black and gold robes, flew in surfing style, picking up the quaffles that had been in use.

“The game is about to begin; The Screeching Eagles vs. the White Manticores, it will be exciting! No one has a chance in winter against the Manticores. By the way, I went to return Professor Hodges’ glasses.”

“I know. I saw them, thank you.” With a smile, Kate and Vic said their goodbyes and watched her go down the stairs looking for a seat next to her friends.

At that moment, Kent Jorgensen returned to her side.

“What a character Sheyi is,” he said with a mischievous smile, “every time I try to watch them practise the reverse pass, they just happen to be over.” He shook his head, still smiling, and didn’t notice Kate slipping the book under her cloak.

In a burst of courage, she thought perhaps she could test the waters with Jorgensen.

“I have been informed that Flavia did not stumble on the stairs.” 

The professor kept looking at the field. He didn’t even change his expression. Though uneasy, his mind was under control.

“Glisseo.” He simply commented, “It’s a spell to turn stairs into ramps. I was there, a small group of students were laughing, I imagine it was a joke gone wrong.”

Kate made no further comment on this and consequently, neither did he.

Sheyi Mawut stood in the centre of the field and introduced the teams, who shot out boasting of their manoeuvres in the air.

Kate calculated that the time she could stand watching a game without Charlie playing was thirty minutes. However, she had to watch the seventh graders circle in front of her for another hour and a half.

The most interesting moment occurred toward the end of the game, where the commentator announced that The White Manticore seeker had gone out in search of the snitch behind the mountains.

She smirked as she understood the all-white uniform of the Manticores and that when they rose higher than their opponents; it was difficult to keep track of them with the characteristic snowy peaks of the area in the background.

Kate sighed with relief when the phrase 250 to 210. The White Manticores win! End of the game. Echoed around.

It took a long time to descend from the stands; the crowd was walking in its own good time and as they waited, Kate took time to admire the views.

She watched from afar as the coach congratulated the champions and spoke animatedly to any student who approached. 

He chatted with a boy, and immediately they both climbed on their broomsticks. Kate looked at the ground to avoid tripping as she went down and missed how the boy went upside down in the air.

Once downstairs, she said goodbye to Jorgensen, but before she could make her way back to the castle, a cry caught his attention.

The boy practicing with Mawut was writhing in pain on the floor, his broom was on the floor and Sheyi kneeled by his side.

Kate shot out in his direction and knelt down beside him.

“He fell on his arm.” Mawut’s tone was calm and comforting. Kate raised the boy’s arm, and he hissed when she gently twisted it.

“It’s just crooked. Luckily it wasn’t very high.”

“How do you know it’s not broken?” asked the boy in a shy voice.

“Because if it was, when I turned it you would have tried to break your broom over my head.” The boy giggled at the comment, and Mawut and Kate exchanged a  smile.

“I’ll bandage it now, but we must go to the hospital wing and get you something for the swelling.” After some bandages appeared in the air and were tied to his arm, Kate looked at him and asked him to stand up when she noticed a purplish shadow next to his eye.

“How did this happen?” He turned his head violently and covered the side of his face.

Mawut and Kate grabbed him by the armpits to help him up. 

“Micael! Come here right now!” All three looked up and the boy’s panicked face didn’t go unnoticed.

Leron Angelov dashed towards them and wrestled with Kate to get Michael out of her grasp.

“What have I told you...?” He angry-whispered. Angelov grabbed him by the ear and pulled him to himself.

“Release him right now, please.” Kate’s tone was sharp and definitive. Angelov ignored her and pushed his son to walk in front of him. Kate chased them across the lawn.

“He must go to the infirmary at once! Professor Angelov!”

Leron turned so violently that Kate’s first reflex was to squeeze her wand and aim it at him without lifting her wrist from her hip.

“You decide nothing. Mind your own business.” He marched behind his son and they grew smaller as they walked away towards the castle.

A reassuring hand rested on her shoulder and tapped several times. Mawut smiled empathetically and set about collecting the brooms that had been left behind.

 After forcing herself to eat a sandwich at lunchtime, Kate tried to talk to Rhode again.

So far, everything seemed normal; the students were agitated about the exams that were just around the corner, but not about any intruder or unwelcome presence.

And the teachers... she couldn’t say anything about it. The truth was that she had had too little contact with them to draw any conclusions. She wasn’t sure that their being calm was a good sign.

“We need to talk.” Rhode announced from her chair when she saw Kate come in.

“I agree...”

“Me first, if you don’t mind.” She shifted in his seat and put her arms over the desk while Kate sat on the other side. She handed her a scroll to look at.

“This is the resignation of Flavia Hodges. She signed it a few hours ago and I’ve already stamped it.”

Kate looked at the document and then at Astrid, waiting for the next sentence.

“In view of the murder attempts she’s been suffering, I think this is the best option.”

“I think she meant to tell me it was Igor Karkarov.” She left the scroll on the table and waited for the headmistress’ reaction.

“Karkarov?” Her eyebrows immediately raised, and she interlocked her fingers in front of her.

Kate shrugged and shook her head. “I suggest increasing the security of the castle. Someone called the British Ministry for him, probably Hodges.”

“She would have warned me...” she thought for a few seconds and with a sharp inhalation continued, “Besides, that Ministry employee came before the attacks on Flavia began.”

“But what if he’s here? I mean, Karkarov arrives, someone sees him and warns the Ministry to come and get him, but he can’t find him and the man is still in the castle.”

Rhode opened one of her drawers and pulled out a blank parchment sheet.

“I’m going to write to Albus. I refuse bringing any more people from the Ministry into my school. Hodges will be transferred in a week or two, after which we’ll put guards on it if necessary.”

“I don’t think it’s right to leave Hodges alone if someone wants to kill her...”

“Until the time of her departure, she will be accompanied at all times. Now, I must wait for Dumbledore’s advice and in that time find a new herbology professor. If possible, by tomorrow.”

Kate sighed and got up from her seat. Understanding that the director could not give her any advice on how to proceed, or act on Voldemort’s alleged mole, she went to the door to let her work.

She was about to turn the knob when an idea was planted in her brain. And it took root. It would be hard to get rid of that plan.

Too irrational. Too risky.

But maybe...

Kate turned around and asked,

“Why does Flavia Hodges have her students’ textbooks?” Astrid looked at her curiously.

“All subjects have copies of the books for those students who don’t want or can’t afford them. Usually only students from wealthier families buy them.”

Kate hummed and slid back into the chair. “I need to get closer to the teachers and... you can say no, but...”

“What do you propose?”

“To be the new Herbology teacher.”

--

[Part 9]

A/N It just occurred to me that if you want to be tagged I can start a tag list, just say it and it’s done <3

[thecrownnet]

*Amy Roberts is nominated for an Emmy in Outstanding Period Costumes for episode 10 Cri de Coeur.

The third season of The Crown, Netflix’s lavish, semi-fictionalized series about Queen Elizabeth II and her family, sees the monarch, Prince Philip and Princess Margaret entering middle age. Claire Foy hands off the role of Elizabeth to Olivia Colman, with Helena Bonham-Carter and Tobias Menzies joining the cast as her sister and husband. Kicking off in 1964 with a Soviet spy scandal ripped from the headlines and ending with the Queen’s 1977 Silver Jubilee, this season of The Crown also covers events some viewers will remember firsthand. Though paparazzi activity hints that the show’s fans are ardently awaiting Princess Diana’s season four entry (and luckily for them, filming wrapped about a week before coronavirus lockdowns were instated), season three is a nuanced historical and personal portrait of the family making their way through a politically pivotal era, from Margaret’s charming of President Lyndon B. Johnson to Prince Charles’s investiture in Wales.

The season also spans one of the 20th century’s most distinct time periods in terms of fashion. Working with a team that can number from 45 people up to 130 on the biggest shooting days, costume designer Amy Roberts joined The Crown for seasons three and four, taking over from Jane Petrie and previously, Michele Clapton. Roberts balances the royal family’s distinctly staid aesthetic with glimpses of the styles of the era, seen on younger characters like Princess Anne (Erin Doherty) and Roddy Llewellyn (Harry Treadaway), Margaret’s youthful, long-term affair.

Queen Elizabeth, however, is still at the crux of every episode, and for the monarch, Roberts embraces an early version of the vivid colors and matching ensembles that have come to dominate her personal style. We spoke with the costume designer about building imagined looks versus hewing to history, her personal style favorites from the season, and the new hues that set the tone for the Queen’s next half-century of outfits.

How do you decide whether to put together new looks or look to history for costuming major, well-documented events, like the Queen’s Jubilee, Prince Charles’s investiture, or the tragedy of Aberfan?

I think it’s an emotional decision. And those big events, particularly Aberfan, it doesn’t make sense to veer away from it. Often, some generations remember it very clearly, and it would seem arrogant of me to even think, oh, I’m going to change history. That’s my strong feeling. Those are a few very key, important moments, but there is so much on The Crown where you don’t know what they wore, you don’t know what they said, you don’t know what went on, so there are plenty of other times when you can let your imagination run free or be more filmic. That’s the joy of The Crown.

Queen Elizabeth has such an interesting style legacy because you have people who think she’s the most fashionable woman in the world, as well as a camp that finds her rather dowdy. What’s your opinion, and what guides you as you’re designing for her?

Well, I was one of those people who thought the Queen’s dress-sense-look-style was not of great interest or groundbreaking. But the more I looked at her, not just my period of time — the 60s through the early 90s, up through season four — you realize she’s actually amazing. You can see where a lot of designers have drawn inspiration, whether it’s Dolce and Gabbana or Vivienne Westwood. So I was really surprised. And the color choices, they’re absolutely extraordinary, even in the present day. I know she dresses to be seen in vivid colors, but she owns it. You see her privately at Balmoral, maybe in her kilt and her twin set and some scarves, and she looks amazing, with a Burberry mac on. There are some really weird ones, like the investiture, but they’re always interesting.

The royal family has an aesthetic unto itself, which isn’t necessarily representative of the era. There are so many fashion hallmarks of the 1960s and 70s in particular, which are not things the Queen would ever wear. Was it difficult to conceive of costumes that illustrate the time period while still being accurate to the family?

The first two seasons, which are absolutely beautiful, had the aesthetic of the 30s, 40s, and 50s color palette.  I suppose in a way what opened the door for us in this era was color. We have a huge wall in our studio where we put up lots of images, each member of the royal family’s journey, in a huge chart. And I think what everybody realized was it’s the color — those sugar pinks, lemon, tangerines, and turquoises — suddenly you’ve got that, which you hadn’t got before. I think Jane [Petrie] slightly touched on it towards the end of season two, but we could really go for that, those more synthetic tones that heralded in the 60s and 70s, those post-war colors and patterns.

And as we get closer to modernity, can you buy and rent costumes for supporting characters, or is everything purpose-built?

All the principals are designed and made, but what we could start to do in this era was introduce a little bit of buying, for Princess Anne and some of the important smaller parts. The budget’s fantastic, but you can’t afford to make everyone, nor do you have the time. It’s got to be the best quality, obviously, but you can source the 60s and 70s clothes pretty easily. We didn’t do that at all for the Queen — maybe an old Burberry mac, actually — but for Princess Anne, we introduced a few buys, some knitwear, and we found some fantastic jeans. And obviously, for the crowd, that is all sourced and hired from costume houses in England, a little bit in Spain, and we used a fantastic place in Paris.

The real royals wear fur. How do you deal with that for the show?

Quite rightly, Netflix and Left Bank have a policy of no fresh fur. But you can use, and we would use, fur from the late 50s. Margaret and the Queen do occasionally wear fur coats, much to the horror particularly of Olivia Colman. They [Colman and Bonham-Carter] don’t love it at all. I have to stress that: there’s no enjoyment to them wearing fur coats. But you might be thinking about Charles’s investiture robe. There’s a good story there. That had to be made from scratch. The lining of that cloak is ermine. That was problematic because we could only use old ermine. They came from all over, the color had to be matched, they had to be cleaned and stretched by a furrier, and there aren’t many furriers anymore. But they had to be a certain date, none of it was fresh fur. It’s absolutely forbidden. So that took a long time to source, do it properly, and within strict guidelines. And it’s hard for actors, sometimes. They want a sign saying “this isn’t me, I don’t approve!” We only used fur coats when it was absolutely needed, and the odd fur stoles, but we steered away from it as much as possible.

Did you have a favorite character to dress in season three?

I always say this, but I loved doing Princess Alice of Greece, Prince Philip’s mother, the nun [Jane Lapotaire]. Because suddenly, after all that pomp, silk, and patterns and color, you do something completely different, and pure and simple. I don’t know, I just loved that beacon in the midst of it all. And I loved doing Wallis Simpson; her clothes and style were just very modern. The palette we went for was a personal favorite of mine. So Princess Alice and Wallis Simpson — two extremes, really, both as women and as looks.

[davidmann95]

All-Star Superman #3

This is gonna be a tough one.

Not the toughest, mind you - that’s probably going to be #7. But after two issues of establishing the tone, aesthetics, and thematic concerns of the series, this is one of the pair of issues in All-Star that for the most part functions as a ‘normal’ Superman adventure story, though in this case one following up on the themes established by the previous issue, while #7 will set up the one coming after it. It’s also likely the most commonly critiqued issue of the series in retrospect its use of Lois Lane as an essentially passive figure to be fought over, and while her characterization here lends some interesting dimension to that choice, it’s hard to disagree it’s the series’ most unfortunate framing and substantial missed opportunity. None of that however can overrule that on examination, there’s still considerably more going on in here than the traditional tale of Superman beating down monsters and showing up bullies, the harsh slap to the face of reality for Clark after his actions last issue and his redemption in the form of showing what makes him different from his predecessors as the strongman-savior template.

So I haven’t talked the lettering much in this series - it is, they say, the invisible art - but Phil Balsman absolutely kills it here with KRULL WILL EAT YOU!, and the decision on the next page to render the ZEE ZEE ZEE ZEE of Jimmy Olsen’s signal watch in the font of the title pages is absolutely inspired, nevermind what he does with the Ultrasphinx later on. The bombast of the bastard lizard prince of the underworld and his cronies wreaking havoc aside though, what this page succinctly does is set up the entire conflict of the issue. It’s not just a monster, it’s a monster out of the past mimicking the cover of Action Comics #1, and apparently by way of terraforming Metropolis via steam clouds, trying to take control of Superman’s ‘world’. From Krull to Steve Lombard (“You tell me what a spaceman flying around in his underwear can give her that a good old hunk of prime American manhood can’t?”) to Samson and Atlas to the Ultrasphinx, this is a story of Superman up against dinosaurs in his image.

Ironically, however, it’s this Superman vs. Bros comic that has perhaps the most Bro sensibilities in the series. Per Morrison on the subject, “For that particular story, I wanted to see Superman doing tough guy shit again, like he did in the early days and then again in the 70s, when he was written as a supremely cocky macho bastard for a while. I thought a little bit of that would be an antidote to the slightly soppy, Super–Christ portrayal that was starting to gain ground. Hence Samson’s broken arm, twisted in two directions beyond all repair. And Atlas in the hospital. And then Superman’s got his hot girlfriend dressed like a girl from Krypton and they’re making out on the moon.” That’s not unto itself a problem; it’s a precursor to Morrison’s t-shirt and jeans reinvention in that sense (which leapt back from the 70s to the 30s for inspiration), and when Superman himself finally gets his own back here it’s more than deserved. But it becomes a problem when Lois at theoretically her literal most empowered does little with her new powers and is framed narratively as a prize to be won in this ‘game’ of godlings, with Superman literally muttering “What do I have to do to make you keep your hands off my girl?” Morrison seems to be somewhat aware of the problems given Lois’s reasons for playing along (which are actually rather significant to the point of the issue) and her amused distaste at the suggestion of being ‘won’, and the issue is ultimately something of an argument against the macho storytelling tropes that drive that thinking. But it’s a far cry from the nuanced look at her and Superman’s relationship last issue offered, and there’s no virtue in overlooking it. As will be demonstrated again later on in the series in less structurally-embedded but more pointed ways, this was written almost 15 years ago, and mistakes were made.

Now we get to the book’s superheroed-up takes on Samson and Atlas, who are such delightful assholes. Occupying the Mxyzptlk/Prankster/Bizarro-in-his-friendlier-moods role of being the enemies to make Superman go ‘oh god, this guy’ as much as direct counterparts to him, they’re basically fratboys tooling around history and getting into trouble together, and Superman’s clearly had to clean up their messes before. They’re the champions of myth who operate by a morality that in no way precluded thievery, deception, and murder in pursuit of their grand ‘heroic’ conquests, the alpha male swaggering dipshit dudebro operating on Superman’s scale. And as much as they’re a pair of craven dumbasses who literally compare cock-sizes in here who Lois has no real interest in, their appearance is also the first and one of the only times in the series Superman puffs his chest out and does some traditional iconic posing, and he has good reason to be threatened - they’re trying to ply her with gifts and tales of miraculous feats basically exactly the same way he did last issue. He may have started to come clean with her, but he’s still playing his old Silver Age nervous bachelor games, and now that she’s got powers and costume to match his she’s showing him exactly where that bullshit is going to get him, teaching him a lesson just like he tried to teach her so many once upon a time.

As we’re around the midpoint of the issue, let’s talk the art. Quitely and Grant aren’t as showy with the tricks and effects as the first two issues; the one real noticeable structural thing is a consistent rhythm of zooming in-and-out on our four leads throughout the issue to keep a sense of momentum to a story mostly driven by conversation, culminating in the hyper zoom-ins of the Ultrasphnix sequence. But GOD there are so many perfect little details in here. The bow coming undone on Lois’s present, the glow of the super-serum (it feels so right that it literally glows, the ultimate alchemical potion), Lombard’s bouquet for Lois’s birthday party while Jimmy is bringing a conch of some sort as a presumed gift to whoever they’ll be meeting at Poseidonis, Jimmy’s happy-meal looking signal watch WHICH HAS A WRISTBAND SHAPED LIKE AN S, more beautiful Metropolis architecture and a good look at how the Daily Planet globe actually works, poor dopey-lookin’ Krull bursting through the satellite twirling around like a cat in a half-second of freefall, the Chronomobile, the far-off monumental stone towers of the Subterranosauri, the glow of the lava fading out as Samson reveals Superman’s fate, the bioelectric crackle around Atom-Hotep, mermaids waving up at Superman and Lois, and of course the pinup. It’s such a damn pretty book.

Just before the arrival of the Ultrasphnix, we have the mythic architecture of the series explained to us, naturally by the figure out of myth:

As noted by Morrison, the exact nature of the 12 challenges are never explained within the story because it’s only in retrospect that history will declare those specific feats as being of note in light of them being Superman’s last accomplishments before his ‘death’; Superman himself isn’t sure how many he’s done later on. It’s an apt if seemingly out-of-left-field bit of commentary on the way epics of the kind this story itself aspires towards are reinterpreted over time, but hindsight being 20/20? That this is a story of a massively iconic, archetypal take on Superman being brought out of the public eye to his physical and emotional lowest at every turn (hence the ACTUAL structure of the series being a solar arc across the sky, from day to a nighttime journey through the underworld and back again), that is now generally thought of being a fun fluffy story of how great and perfect Superman is, entirely bears it out. The 12 Labors of Superman are what Clark’s roughest year looks like to the awestruck onlookers, both in and as it turns out in large part out of text.

After Samson and Atlas seemingly show nobler colors by offering Superman aid in a genuinely stirring moment before Superman accurately dismisses it as the empty machismo posturing it is, Ultrasphinx - yet another super-champion of the past, this one an amoral god rather than a ‘hero’ on a quest - poses the unanswerable question of what happens when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object with Lois both alive and dead until he does (one of those unions of opposites Morrison loves), basically creating a high-stakes literalization of their relationship. Superman and Lois Lane had been playing will-they-or-won’t-they for almost 70 years at the time this was published (culturally at least), her trying to pry into his secrets while he screwed around with her in turn, running in circles until we finally reach the acidic psychodrama of Superman’s Forbidden Room and something has to break one way or another. And Superman answers that it’s time to surrender. Has he inspired the car ad we see at the end of the issue, or vice-versa? Either way, it’s illustrating by example what the deal is with the super-labors.

Superman, learning his lesson as he has and showing his greater heroism stems from his nobility, intellect, and willingness to transcend his worst instincts, still takes a minute to teach Samson and Atlas a well-deserved lesson (paired with that absolutely perfect shot of the rock cracking on Lois’s head), before taking us to my absolute favorite statement on why Superman loves Lois Lane which also connects back to the idea of surrender, and the iconic moon shot. And as Superman holds her as she falls asleep, his Clark voice in all its vulnerable humanity manifests itself as he tries to propose; the tough guys of the past wanted Lois for a day when she was finally operating on ‘their level’, Superman ‘lowers’ himself to his most human alongside her reassumed mortality as he tries to tell her he wants her for what lifetime he has left. We’re only halfway there at most, he still hasn’t admitted his condition and she still can’t accept that he’s Clark, but this is Superman taking his first step along his quiet character arc.

Additional notes

* Interestingly, the original solicitation for this issue declared “Meanwhile, Lex Luthor's plans simmer as the criminal mastermind exerts his charisma and intellect over the hardcore inmates who share his maximum-security prison.” One of many bits that changed in the process of actually putting the book together.

* Perhaps this story of very manly men out of time doing manly stuff and getting their asses kicked for it across generations is represented in part by Krull being the son of a king whose battle cry is KRULL WILL EAT YOUR CHILL-DRUNN! That might be reading a *bit* much into it though. That Morrison describes Krull in backmatter however as “the living embodiment of the savage, swaggering ‘R Complex’ or reptile brain” definitely plays into the ideas of the issue as I understood them.

* Jimmy’s declaration of “Ms. Grant, Mr. Lombard, I’m taking immediate steps” is a perfect little moment for him - he’s calm and on top of things, but there’s also that little touch of naive ego in thinking that it’s thanks to him that Superman’s going to notice the dinosaur invasion of Metropolis.

* In backmatter and interviews Morrison had substantially further fleshed-out backstories for several of the new characters here. Samson is indeed the original champion, plucked from his era by a pair of foolish time-travelers searching for a savior; instead, enamored and corrupted by future culture he stole their malfunctioning Chronomobile and went on adventures to slake his lust, for fortune, flesh, and adventure alike. Atlas meanwhile is the boisterous yet quietly burdened young prince of the New Mythos, a society of super-godlings torn between New Elysium and Hadia, Morrison’s vision of a Jack Kirby Olympian saga for DC following in the wake of Thor’s Norse myths rather than the full-blown invention of the New Gods. And the Ultrasphinx “is the super-champion of a lost Egyptian Atomic Age in the 80th century BC. When he crashed to Earth his otherworldly science founded the advanced, ancient dynasty of Atem-Hotep [sic], a civilization eventually destroyed by the nuclear war that left Northern Africa a desert”. A. Morrison backmatter rules and you should read it whenever you get the chance, and B. This notion of proto-civilizations mirroring the eventual legends of a mere handful of millennia past is one he followed much further in Seven Soldiers of Victory with Shining Knight and its antediluvian Camelot.

* The main inspiration for this particular story was the frequent use of ancient strongmen as rivals to the Man of Steel in the Silver Age, which Morrison noted preferring to the use of analogue characters like Majestic for their broad cultural standing, culminating in this:

...though with Atlas swapped in, as Marvel already had the definitive take on Hercules in superhero comics (and, one imagines, since putting Hercules in the comic where Superman gets 12 labors would have had to be addressed), though he’d tackle him later on in the...controversial Wonder Woman: Earth One. Morrison’s analysis of this cover in Supergods basically lays out the thesis of this issue quite cleanly: “This was what happened when you couldn’t make decisions or offer any lasting commitment. Samson pounced on your best girl. And for Superman, it was a horrific challenge to his modernity. Was he really no better than these archaic toughs? Or could he prove himself stronger, faster than any previous man-god?” Fun fact: I myself hate this comic because it’s an entirely standard issue that fully returns to status quo by the end, sullying the good name and promise of Imaginary Stories for nothing more than fooling readers into thinking this was one of the issues were anything could really happen. Shameful false advertisement.

* Worth noting this is a rare instance where the glowing-red angry heat vision eyes work for me. Those two were real dicks and had it coming, and for that matter Superman looking for all the world a wrathful god promising banishment to a very different sort of underworld more than underscores his relative position next to the suitably abashed adventurers.

* It’s an interesting choice to use Poseidonis here, the capital city of Aquaman - it’s a sensible place for Superman to travel (though the real implications regarding the Justice League in this world won’t be for awhile yet), but it’s Tritonis that’s the undersea home to Superman’s onetime love, the mermaid Lori Lemaris. Perhaps Morrison just didn’t want a subset of readers in the know and pining after all these decades for Clark to find succor in the arms of his fishy love to dwell on that particular what-could-have-been; either way, Atlantis in general as what sprung up from a devastated ancient civilization is a perfectly logical inclusion for this issue in general.

* Lois’s description of her super-senses is not only lovely, but sets up the victory of #12 right in the first act. Additionally Lois keeping a cactus is such a perfect little bit for her character - it’ll prick ya, but she’s working to keep the thing alive.

* The journeys to the moon and ‘underworld’ for this issue, but in playful and romantic contexts, marks this issue as the (depending on whether you read it as a 4 or 6 issue arc) final installment before All-Star Superman begins its structural descent into the night.

* A very happy birthday to Justin Martin (and a day-before-birthday to myself) with this, annotations of the issue of All-Star Superman about a birthday. Birthdays themselves being a signpost of time and evolution, a forward march, making it a potent occasion to highlight in this series in general and this installment in particular.

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Episode 24 Review: Top 5 Reasons Why the Holly Portrait Subplot Doesn’t Work

Welcome back to Maljardin, where the melodramatic master Jean Paul Desmond is God and the Devil is a snarky talking portrait.

Speaking of portraits, today we will be looking at the subplot about Tim’s portrait of “Erica” (or, rather, of Holly) and the main things that are wrong with it. This subplot is, in my opinion, the worst in the Maljardin arc and I’ve been holding off on writing a detailed explanation of why I feel that way until my review of this episode, which mostly centers around the damned Holly portrait.

The portrait, circa Episode 18. There aren’t any good shots of it from Episode 24, so I had to settle for this one.

To recap: After the death of Erica Desmond, her husband Jean Paul hired Tim Stanton, a young artist in debt to the mob, to paint a portrait of her. Erica being both dead and encased in a cryonics capsule which both Jean Paul and THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES refuse to open, Tim must instead use young heiress Holly Marshall as his model until Erica comes back to life as Jacques promised that she would.

Sound like a reasonable plan? No? I didn’t think so, either, and now I shall explain why. Here are the top five reasons why I think this subplot is stupid:

#5: Holly neither looks like Erica, nor knows what Erica looked like.

This screencap is actually from Episode 13, but I’m including it because it’s relevant.

I sometimes wonder if this criticism is unfair, because the only viewers up to this point in the show’s broadcast history who would have seen Erica were the viewers of Episodes 1, 2 (where Tim shows Alison his sketch of her), and 4. In the first scene of Episode 4, the Cryonics Society froze her corpse in the cryonics capsule, meaning that anyone who started watching after that scene would not have seen her face before Tim got his assignment from Jean Paul. Even so, neither Erica resembled Holly, which makes it absurd for her to sit for it. Why not have Alison pose instead when she’s not working? After all, they are sisters and they share a strong family resemblance according to the original pilot script. Holly barely resembles either Erica beyond being pretty.

Tim’s sketch of Erica from Episode 2, with a screencap of Alison from Episode 17 for comparison. With its upturned nose and full lips, the sketch is clearly intended to resemble Dawn Greenhalgh (Alison) and not Sylvia Feigel (Holly).

Because Holly hardly looks a thing like her, Tim complains in Episode 13 that he “can’t use her for anything but position and play of light.” In spite of this, later episodes including Episode 24 show that he has painted a sort of semi-abstraction of Holly’s face, with features about halfway between those of Holly and those of Erica. This means that he’s only making more work for himself for when Jacques brings Erica back to life--if he brings her back to life--because he will need to paint over the semi-abstraction with Erica’s face. In short, he’s wasting his time.

Besides, it’s unclear why Holly doesn’t know what Erica looked like if Erica was a very famous actress and she and her husband were stalked by the paparazzi until they escaped to Maljardin (as previous episodes have indicated). Surely she would have seen a photo of Erica in the newspaper at some point, or her face on the poster for one of her plays, or something. I realize that’s not the same as seeing someone in real life, but it’s just odd that she doesn’t know.

  #4: Tim doesn’t have even a photo of Erica with him and so has to rely mostly on memory.

He even says so in Episode 13: “I have to depend on my memory of your wife and that sketch I made of her at the café,” he tells Jean Paul (or, rather, Jacques while he is possessing him). As we saw in that episode, opening the cryonics capsule and posing Erica’s thawed-out corpse for Tim is too devilish even for Jacques, so the starving artist is left with a dilemma. Jean Paul, being a fancy rich guy of noble descent, naturally assumes that any criticisms of his assignment is just a case of beggars trying to be choosers and ignores them; in his mind, he did him a favor by paying his debts and taking him to his island, so Tim should obey his every whim without question. But the truth is that Jean Paul has no understanding of how artists work, nor why Tim needs the real Erica to complete the painting, and he may not even understand the creative process behind painting a portrait.

This could make for interesting social commentary if the writers had had Tim take a good hard look at the situation and realize that Jean Paul is not just imprisoning him on the island but flat-out exploiting him. They could have made his subplot about class conflict, the establishment’s lack of empathy towards creative types, or both. However, they choose not to use the subplot for such commentary, instead going in a much more conventional direction.

#3: The Holly portrait is mostly used to drive a clichéd romantic subplot.

Two people meet and hate each other at first sight--or at least pretend to--although they are clearly attracted to each other. They argue, bicker, treat each other indifferently at best and abuse each other at worst, until one day they realize that they have fallen in love. When was the first time you read or saw this story? Do you even remember the first time? Most likely you don’t, because the exact same plot has been used and reused so many times since Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing premiered that Western media is saturated with it. It’s not a bad plot in and of itself, but it’s been overused so much that you can usually see it coming from a mile away. When Tim and Holly first bickered over her being too young to order booze, I predicted that they were setting up a romance between them. There are many signs: Tim confesses to Vangie that he feels sorry for Holly, Elizabeth suspects that he’s hitting on her, and, while she claims to dislike them both, Holly seems slightly less irritated by Tim than by her former captor, Matt Dawson. Ian Martin was clearly setting up a romance between the heiress and the artist, who are gradually bickering less and less: a telling sign that they are getting closer to falling in love.

As creepy as it is and as much as I don’t want them to get together, I actually find the Matt/Holly subplot more interesting to watch than Tim/Holly. Danny Horn of Dark Shadows Every Day may have written about how “groovy priest attracted to the beautiful young girl that he wants to take care of” is an old soap cliché, but I’ve seen it done far less often, which I suspect has something to do with all the church scandals in the past twenty years. The Belligerent Sexual Tension plot, on the other hand, is still very popular, so it feels less fresh to me than Matt and Holly’s subplot. (That doesn’t mean that I don’t still think he should leave her alone. Personally, I ship Reverend Dawson with his right hand and I think they ought to stay together.)

#2: The use of the Holly portrait on the show doesn’t connect to the show’s use of portraits for symbolism.

This one is really nitpicky and based mostly on my personal interpretation, but bear with me. Although far more complex than the Dark Shadows ripoff that many critics reduce it to, Strange Paradise nevertheless relied on many of the same tropes and themes, including the way its writers used portraits. On Dark Shadows, the writers often used a trope that Cousin Barnabas of the Collinsport Historical Society blog calls the “Portrait as Id,” meaning the use of paintings to symbolize and illustrate the truth about whatever character they represented. We see this in Strange Paradise as well with the portrait of Jacques, who tells Jean Paul that he is “the man you are, the man you might have been,” implying that the ostensibly good Jean Paul is not so different from his evil ancestor. Later on after Robert Costello becomes producer and the show becomes more like Dark Shadows, we’ll meet another character whose portrait does not turn out as intended because of the evil in said character’s heart, which also connects to this idea of portraits reflecting hidden reality. Although the conjure doll also resembles and represents Jacques, he does not generally use it to communicate with Jean Paul the way he does with the portrait. This makes sense, given that the doll and silver pin ended his life, while the portrait was painted at some point while he was alive.

In contrast to the portraits mentioned above, Holly’s portrait does not convey any additional information about either her or Erica. Because it represents the late Mrs. Desmond in name only, the Holly portrait says nothing about Erica’s id, her personality, or the state of her soul. It doesn’t even say very much about Holly. Instead, it’s mostly just used as an excuse to force Holly and Tim to interact with each other and bicker until they can finally admit that they’re in love.

#1: It goes (almost) nowhere.

And when it does finally go somewhere, it’s only relevant for a few episodes before it’s forgotten about. Holly’s participation in the portrait sittings soon becomes completely irrelevant, much like so many of the show’s early subplots which Late Maljardin’s headwriter Cornelius Crane chose to ignore. I suspect that the Holly portrait would have eventually became more significant in the main plot had Martin not been fired around Week 9. We may never know how it would have become so, nor how significant it would have become in his original outline. Who knows? Perhaps Martin would have crafted a shocking plot twist involving Holly that justified its existence. Perhaps he would have connected the portrait and its eventual fate somehow to the nightmare she had about Tarasca, having it reveal some terrifying truth about Maljardin’s past. At the very least, he might have used it to cement the romance between Tim and Holly. But instead the subplot ends with little payoff.

Tim on his subplot.

Still, despite the focus on the Holly portrait, this episode isn’t entirely a waste. Raxl saves it with her pleas to the Serpent and her attempt to contact the Conjure Woman, in all her scenery-chewing, melodramatic glory. There’s also a scene where Holly pressures her to read the two Tarot cards--the King of Swords (whom Matt identifies as Jean Paul) and the Queen of Cups (whom he interprets as Holly)--that she dropped on the floor earlier in the scene “just for kicks,” and she refuses, shouting “No!” repeatedly. If you love Raxl like I do, you’ll enjoy her scenes. They’re not Best of Raxl material, but they’re fun.

So long until my next review, which will cover Episode 25, followed by Week 5′s long overdue Bad Subtitle Special. I know that this is a change of pace from my usual recap-style reviews, but I really wanted to go into more detail about why I don’t like Tim’s subplot. I hope you enjoyed this post and I’ll see you again soon.

Coming up next: Elizabeth continues her attempted seduction of Jean Paul as we explore inter-generational conflict on Maljardin.

{ <- Previous: Episode 23   ||   Next: Episode 25 -> }

[letstraveltoorion]

King, Warrior, Magician, Lover

rediscovering the archetypes of the mature masculine (Psychology)

Robert L. Moore, Douglas Gillette

ISBN : 9780062506061

Éditeur : HarperCollins Publishers (16/08/1991)

“The bestselling, widely heralded, Jungian introduction to the psychological foundation of a mature, authentic, and revitalized masculinity.

 Redefining age-old concepts of masculinity, Jungian analysts Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette make the argument that mature masculinity is not abusive or domineering, but generative, creative, and empowering of the self and others. Moore and Gillette clearly define the four mature male archetypes that stand out through myth and literature across history: the king (the energy of just and creative ordering), the warrior (the energy of aggressive but nonviolent action), the magician (the energy of initiation and transformation), and the lover (the energy that connects one to others and the world), as well as the four immature patterns that interfere with masculine potential (divine child, oedipal child, trickster and hero).  King, Warrior, Magician, Lover is an exploratory journey that will help men and women reimagine and deepen their understanding of the masculine psyche.”

 Well, that book turned out to be a bigger surprise than I thought. I’m reviewing this one for mainly two reasons: first and foremost, because I came upon this work at a time when I was trying to make sense of what I had already discovered … but also, to a very unexpected use of the knowledge contained in these pages.

 So, back at the late 2015, I kinda hit a brick wall that sent my whole universe crashing down (again). This sent me on a downward spiral that made 2016 and 2017, a living hell. Of course, as soon as I started to recognize the signs, I went to get help. Along this, a particularity in my behaviour in a time of crisis (a quirk of personality if you like) is to go into overdrive and collect a maximum of data as I’m trying to understand the problem (so I can solve it). As of result, it brings me to read stuff I would never have considerate in my fields of interests.

  I discovered that publication through a series of YouTube videos describing those archetypes and having this book in reference. At that point in time, I was becoming ever more frustrated by apparent lack of progress despite everything I had accomplished so far. I was feeling like a mechanic who had fixed and checked every part of a car and yet could still not make it work. Thus, when I watched those videos, I was quite intrigued by the fact that one of them, described the conditions, the environment in which I was raised … and the resulting consequences. My curiosity activated, I went and got the book.

 Now, before I go any further, I’d like to point out that this is NOT a self-help book or one of those “X” steps to make you feel better. What that book did was to give me an overview of the system and the way it work in its entirety. It made me understand that what I was considering as flaws of characters to be cast out, were in fact imbalances that needed only some gentle corrections (a bit more of this … a little less of that).

 Another point to emphasize, this work is in no way sexist. These masculine characteristics studied here are also found in women. The theme of masculinity is in fact alluding to one of the aspects of duality (Ying / yang) that dwell within each of us.

 Reading that book enable me to resume my journey toward a sunnier tomorrow (it is a never-ending road after all).

 Note: from pages 63 to 70, you’ll have the textual description of a certain person in charge of a current event (’nuff said).

 This brings me to the second part of my review: the unexpected use of this knowledge … in the internal worldbuilding of your characters.

 As I mentioned, I was surprised in the way this book can help in creating characters that will feel more “organic” in their behaviours. Although there are numerous books, documentation and video advising you on how to build your protagonist or what kind of trap to avoid during your creation; very few of them put the stress on the emotional motivations behind the behaviour … which often lead to 1 or 2 dimensional characters.

 Another flaw in creating your personages, which most beginner writers suffer (I included), is the over idealization of their hero … mostly because we have a tendency to project our ideals onto our creations. Which often end up to the “perfect” hero … he/she looks good, true, but is quite empty. This book could help you fill up the gap.

 A good example to illustrate my point is the character of Jean-Luc Picard of Star Trek: TNG (I chose him because he seemed to be at the forefront of the discussions recently). Throughout the sitcom and films, Jean-Luc Picard represent the “King” archetype (obviously because he is the Captain of the Enterprise). But as we move through the seri, episode by episode, we realize that the second trait of personality displayed by the captain is the magician as he coaches and advises the different members under his leadership. This was also demonstrated numerous times through his mastery on multiple diplomatic situations. We also learn that his warrior archetype was seriously kept in check after the accident that got him stabbed in the heart (he became more cautious). Finally, his greatest imbalance where at the level of his lover's side: he was uncomfortable in the presence of children and had a very hard time to admit his love for Beverley Crusher out of loyalty for his late friend. You can repeat this process with every protagonist or antagonist you want.

 In conclusion, I got that book to help me make sense of many things in my life and ended up with a more comprehensive way in creating characters and personages … both mature and immature … positive or negative … not bad.

 Which is why I recommend it.

 Have a nice read.

[the-tendo-blog]

City lights: part one

Disclaimer: this isn’t supposed to be ray x Charlotte at all nah miss me with that pedophillic shit

Here we go everyone, the ray and Charlotte friendship fluff we’re all horribly deprived of. Also sorry this in such a hard to read format, this garbage website wouldn’t let me post all of it in the original, easy to read format.

"Did you hear about it, ray?" Henry asked, taking out his gum and getting ready to switch out of his kid danger uniform. "The concert next Friday?"

"Yeah! The concert!" Jasper said. "Can we have work off next Friday so we can go?"

Charlotte nodded in agreement with the boys, she too wanted to know if she could go to this concert. Ray, who had already changed back and was getting ready to order a few water bottles from the autosnacker, gave the kids a confused look. "...what concert?" The kids all looked at him like they had seen a ghost. “How could you not know about it?" Jasper asked. "It's like, the biggest concert this year! Maybe ever!"

"Surely you've heard about it." Henry added. "Which one?" Ray replied, genuinely confused by their sudden shock. "I don't know about any concerts happening next Friday." Henry stared at him. "Are you serious, dude?" He asked, sitting down on the man cave couch. "Everyone has been talking about it for the past two months!"

"I've actually heard of a few concerts like that, you know." Ray answered, still incredibly confused. He's heard people talk about a few different concerts that have been anticipated for months on end, and his friends weren't being clear enough. "Which concert are you talking about?"

"It's the - nevermind, you're probably too old to know who it is." Henry said, jasper nodding in agreement while Charlotte rolled her eyes. Ray was going to reach for a bottle of water, but stopped dead in his tracks and turned around."...did you just call me old?" He asked, turning around and approaching the kids. "Okay, maybe not old..." Henry replied, the blond clearly regretted the comment. "Just boring."

"That's worse!" Ray shouted back, looking over the kids. "I'm not old, or boring! I'm like an older kid! Who thinks stuff from the eighties is cool!"

"Sure..." Henry said. "Any 'kid' who's like that is probably boring." Ray turned to Jasper and Charlotte. "Am I really boring?"

"Well..." Charlotte began."Sometimes," Jasper added, though everyone knew what he meant. Frustrated, ray thought for a moment. He had to think of some way to prove himself. No way was he going to let the kids think of him like that. Who would want to be around someone boring and old? No one, exactly. There had to be some way he could prove he was worth hanging out around. Ray had talked about what he did in his free time, it's not like it mattered to them, did it? It's not like they had much interests in common. Ray did go to a Hawkins concert once, but that's only because Henry wanted someone to go with, but he was the only one of his friends who liked the band too. Suddenly, it hit him. A part of his personality didn't come out much in front of these kids, and an upcoming event would be the perfect chance to show them a side of him that was anything but boring. Ray turned to face the three, smirking a little. "Meet me here in the man cave, at 6pm, next Friday." He began. Holding his head up like a small child bragging about their new toy. "We'll see if you still think I'm boring." The three kids exchanged looks. Henry said he'd meet ray then, although by the tone of his voice, he didn't seem serious.

*     *     *

Charlotte handed Henry a bowl of popcorn and sat down with the boys as they began to watch an entire season of a show they liked. It was the Friday night ray was supposed to spend with them, and it was fifteen minutes before they were supposed to go. Henry and Jasper seemed to be settling down for the movie without caring about the previous plans. Charlotte, However, was a trying not to let this bother her. Henry and Jasper would make it in time. One episode, and then they're off. It was a five minute walk and each episode was only ten minutes. But as Time went on, Charlotte began to think otherwise. Henry's phone got the occasional text from ray, asking if they would be late. Henry didn't answer. Two minutes into their third episode, Charlotte grabbed the remote and paused. "Guys, ray wanted us to come over and we're going to be late." She said, leaning forward to look at them.

"Oh, right! We forgot to tell you!" Henry began. "We're not going."

"What? Why?"

"He's probably going to make us play some stupid board game for old people." Jasper answered the question for henry, but the blond seemed to agree.

"Let's play very silly sentences!" Henry said, mocking ray's voice. "I'm not boring if we play a board game about making sentences!" Jasper burst out laughing. "Wait, wait! I got one! Jasper, Henry, let's go play with legos! I got a big bin of them in the back!" The two boys went back and forth like that for a while and laughing, while Charlotte simply got up and left. Even if ray really was going to make them do something like that, although she doubted he would, it wouldn't kill them to spend some time with the poor guy. But as usual, Charlotte had to be the voice of reason and go on her own. As she walked, she looked around outside. It was sunset, what could ray want them to go to that took place after dark?

By the time she arrived at junk-n-stuff, it was almost fifteen minutes past the agreed time. She let herself in with a key she got, from Henry, and headed to the elevator and plummeted down. On the trip, she couldn't help but wonder what ray wanted to do with the three of them that happened after dark. Did he plan on taking them on a small mission? To a movie? The questions ran through her head until she felt the elevator stop. As soon as those doors opened, nothing could have prepared her for what awaited her in the man cave. Ray was sitting on the couch, not realizing Charlotte had arrived, looking like a totally different person.

Ray sported a shirt with a split down the middle with one side solid black, and the other camouflage pattern. In the middle of the split was a huge illustration of a shark's face, bright red eyes and a gaping jaw overlaying the odd pattern. Underneath that Charlotte could tell he had a white shirt that poked out the bottom of the more expensive looking one, accompanied by a pair of gray jeans with a rose embroidered near the bottom which complimented the white with light blue accented sneakers he wore, a black baseball cap and a torn jean jacket covered in pins to finish the look. An odd look for ray, but not necessarily a bad one. “Ray? You look like an entirely different person." The brunet's head perked up, he seemed genuinely surprised that Charlotte had actually shown up. Suddenly, a huge smile spread across his face."Charlotte! You came!" He said, smiling. "I didn't think anyone was going to show up!"

"Henry and jasper won't be here..." Charlotte said sheepishly. Although ray definitely seemed to care about her, it seemed like he enjoyed their company more than hers.

"That's Okay! You're here!" Ray said once again, getting up and coming over to give her a big hug, lifting her off the ground for a few seconds. Once he put the girl back down, he asked why Henry and jasper won't be showing up.

"Well..." Charlotte wasn't sure how to tell him. It would likely be heartbreaking for him. "To put it nicely..."

"To put what nicely?"

"They.. they just had other plans!" Charlotte lied. How was she supposed to tell ray they didn't want to hang out with him?

"Really? Why didn't they just say so?" Ray asked, adjusting his hat.

"I don't know... they just didn't..."

Ray was quiet for a moment. "Is there something else going on?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Charlotte shifted uncomfortably.

Just tell him the truth, it's a lot easier.

"They didn't want to go because didn't believe you when you said you could prove you weren't boring." Charlotte confessed. "They ghosted you." Ray was clearly taken aback upon hearing this. Why would his friends not believe him? He was a literal superhero! Why would a superhero be boring? Despite this, he was overjoyed to know Charlotte believed him. He expected her to be brutally honest and say she wouldn't be going. The brunet scoffed. "We don't need them! We'll do fun stuff by ourselves, just you and me! A night on the town!" Charlotte wasn't sure what he meant by that. If he planned on taking her on some crime-busting spree, it would be a lot scarier than it would be fun, especially if she had gone out there without any kind of protection against weapons or bad guys. "Wait, where exactly are you taking me?" Charlotte asked, crossing her arms.

"It's a surprise." Ray replied as he grabbed two water bottles, handed one to Charlotte, and lead her to the tubes. "All I'm going to say is you'll need that water bottle."

Oh no. Charlotte thought, what would that mean for the night ahead of them?

Once they got in ray's car, he started off and plugged in his phone to play music, R&B, to be exact. Modern songs of the genre too.

This came as a surprise for Charlotte. But then again, many surprises had already awaited her the moment she walked into the man cave; from the looks of things, it seemed like many more awaited her. "I didn't know you listened to this stuff." Charlotte said, looking out the window. The sun was setting, and This fact only raised suspicions about the night ahead of her. "I thought you just listened to old eighties music plus the hawkins and that was it."

"Really? Then there's a lot you don't know about me." Ray replied, quickly checking the time. They were off to a late start, anyway. "But, I can turn that on if you want."

"No, it's okay," she assured him. "It's actually really cool you listen to this, you can keep it playing." Ray thanked her for the compliment, and stayed mostly quiet for the ride. He occasionally would tell her things like to stay by him because where they were going is crowded, or let her know he had earplugs with him because where they were going can get very loud at times.

At first, the trip seemed relatively normal, it was getting significantly dark out and ray drove through the suburbs of swellview, where she was most familiar with. As the drive went on, she found themselves in the outskirts of downtown swellview. Downtown swellview was about as urban as swellview got, it was a district known for its numerous shopping centers, many rather high-end, and it's uniquely minimalist yet modern architecture. But, downtown swellview was most known for it's nightlife. Clubs and bars littered the area, but Charlotte had only ever been to club soda, on the outskirts with the shopping centers. What lies beyond those few buildings was a mystery to her. It got darker, and Charlotte watched the lights flicker on. City lights and billboards were illuminated in seconds, the area became flooded with colors, but the ground still remained just slightly dim. As they drove, the girl realized she wasn't in this part of downtown swellview before.

"Ray? Where are we?" Charlotte asked.

"Downtown swellview. Well, inner downtown swellview." The brunet replied, looking around. "This is where a lot of concerts take place, but the amount of clubs and bars here made it a place where you won't see many people over eighteen in. Except for some shopping centers."

"What? Where are we even going?"

"Relax, Charlotte. Do you really think I'd take you to a place you wouldn't like?"

Charlotte wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer, so she spent the rest of the ride in silence and looking around the unfamiliar place.

Soon enough, they arrived. Ray instructed her to put in the earplugs he had with him, and then did the same with his own pair, and so they headed off. Ray explained that though it was crowded, he had enough friends in these places to get a lot of perks.

Once they entered the venue, Charlotte's eyes widened, and she grabbed ray's arm to pull him back.

"YOU TOOK ME TO A RAVE?"

[imaginaryboyfriendcollection]

HiddleHamlet: A firsthand account (Part II)

It’s 5 days later and I’m still suffering from what @hiddleston81 calls the Hiddleston Hangover.

This second half is now days late, oops, so a lot of this has already been said by now, but I still want to record it for posterity. Fair warning, this post is going to be a disorganised mess of my thoughts - swinging between genuine observations about play/performance and completely shameless fangirling - so, the usual. That’s what you’re here for, right?!

Here are some more things I want to remember about Tom’s Hamlet:

Tom’s already much-discussed perfect hair was just like in the programme photo above, but at a few key points, one lock of hair would escape from the slicked back gorgeousness and fall over his forehead. Yes, that’s right - an errant curl. And somehow I’m still here to tell this tale.

Dancing. IT HAPPENS. Only for a minute, but it is glorious. The first entry of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern comes with a beats pill playing danceable music (Kendrick Lamar, I think?) and they all bust out a few moves. I gasped. Snake-hipping, y’all! In the middle of Hamlet! Bless you, Sir Kenneth Branagh.

There’s one bit where Hamlet dives underneath the carpet and tunnels along and then comically pops out the other side. Another where he gets excited and leaps on and then over the back of the couch. He wears facepaint and wraps himself in a Danish flag. He does silly voices on behalf of the skull in the “Alas, poor Yorick” scene (a Scottish accented one, even - swoon). Tom was such a playful Hamlet in these moments, delighting in being unhinged. I loved that he was let loose like this - he had these offhand chances to laugh and play, while still being clearly and primarily defined by his grief and fury. Those contradictions seemed so human. I think, more than anything, Tom’s Hamlet is the most relatable one I’ve seen (I mean, apart from those times when he gets all murdery. But you know.)

His anger and sadness, though, were harrowing to behold. The scene in the very beginning where Hamlet comes out onto a nearly dark stage to play piano and sing is haunting - his pain is palpable, and the entire audience was hanging on his every word and motion. It was like a shot straight to the heart to begin the production. I recall reading some review that slightly criticised him as “obviously not a singer” in this scene, and I agree that it wasn’t his usual standard of vocal performance, but I would venture that this was intentional. I thought he still sounded rather lovely, but his voice was imperfect, thin and cracking with grief. This is supposed to be Hamlet alone in his sorrow, not performing for anyone as he does in other scenes throughout the play. The moment feels incredibly authentic, illustrating perfectly Hamlet’s current frame of mind, and it sets the tone for Tom’s entire performance.

I kept becoming mesmerized by the little details of him - a consequence of him being so close, in the flesh. It was impossible not to focus in on his overwhelming physical presence. He was so lean, lithe and yet all muscles, with this energy radiating off of him every time he moved. I couldn’t stop noticing and trying to memorize every tiny thing about him. I could see the veins in his hands, the freckles on his forearms, the sheen of sweat under the curls at the back of his neck. The pattern of his stubble and the little muscle clench in his jaw (urrghhh) and the way his eyes shone with tears in the stage lights. JFC, is he a beautiful human.

In his first scene (after the piano one) when he turned to our side of the stage, he did lock eyes with me and held it for a second, so I think that might’ve been him registering recognition. There will never be any way to know for sure...which means I am of course just gonna go ahead and believe my version, because why the hell wouldn’t I. Tom totally recognised me - IT IS CANON - at least in my head, forever, the end.

He did that face-cupping thing that he does to Ophelia in the scene where they kiss. His long, beautiful fingers stroking her cheek. Fucker. And the way he was looking at her...well, you can imagine it. Hamlet’s love for Ophelia in this scene is tangible, and the whole thing made my insides melt completely. Sighhh.

Oh, also - he PICKS UP tiny Rosencrantz and twirls her all the way around his body. It is literally the cutest thing and I nearly choked on my own saliva for how badly I want this thing that I’d never even thought of before, being grabbed around the waist by Tom and swung entirely around his body. UM GIVE ME THAT PLEASE. They were pretty adorable together and caused @hiddleston81 to immediately start shipping them (I would’ve too if I were a shipper, but I’m only able to ship my real-life crushes with one person, and that’s meeee). 

Hamlet and Horatia had great chemistry too - they really seemed like comfy best friends, but with a good degree of physical affection between them as well. Basically, Hamlet has sexual tension with every woman in this play. Or maybe I’m projecting.

Oh, let’s talk about the leather. It comes out right at the end, for the incredible fight scene. There’s the already-beloved leather jacket of course, but also - leather gloves. The time he spent putting on the gloves was probably only 20 seconds, but it seemed like a slo-mo 5 minutes in my head, with imaginary sexy music playing in the background (wee-wee-wowww). After he gets the gloves on, he immediately runs them through his hair to slick it back all the way, and it is maaaybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I somehow didn’t burst into flames. Amazing.

Little tummy peeks happened a couple of times throughout the show, which were just too damn delicious for words. Again, he looked so good in his clothes! When on top of that, his shirt would occasionally ride up a bit over his tight, low-slung jeans and show that bit of skin, uhhh...heavenly powers, restore me.

Hamlet’s death scene is heartbreaking, obviously, and my eyes were full of tears. But still it was impossible not to notice that his shirt had ridden up again and his lower abs were on display, creating a complicated and weird mix of emotions, ie I am very sad but also extremely turned on, what is wrong with me?? He was also so close that you could see his chest rising and falling with his breathing, which is just so intimate, and I couldn’t stop drinking it in with my eyes. I never could take my eyes off him for a single second when he was onstage, even when the action would move elsewhere.

The older lady sitting beside me leaned over before it started and said, “Well, we couldn’t get any closer than this, could we?” and I thought, “Aw how nice, a sweet theatre-loving lady who wants to chat.” Then she said “Tom Hiddleston will be practically on top of us!!” and I thought “OH NO SHE’S A KINDRED SPIRIT.” This was proven true at the intermission when she asked me if I was “enjoying the view of Hiddleston’s butt.”

Me (in my head) I LOVE HER

Me: It’s like a chorus of angels singing in my ears. 

Her: And his legs!! 

Me (getting too worked up) HE’S SO LEGGY

Her: Have you seen The Night Manager?

Me: OH GIRL

One last thing. I know I got to be in Tom’s presence once already, in a completely astounding circumstance, but it was really special to be in the same room with him for this particular experience. I feel extremely grateful to have had the chance to be there, and do not take it at all for granted. His talent, charisma and grace as an actor shone in this role. He was utterly moving. He came alive on stage, and it was absolutely thrilling to witness. As someone who has seen all of his work and adored him from afar for years, this was something new. Being there with him, in this intimate setting, in his element...was beautiful. I’ll never forget it.

[abitterlifethroughcinema]

THE SITGES Film Festival- Happy Samhain 2020 REVIEWS, VOL. II by Lucas Avram Cavazos

For starters, a couple of docs that skirt socio-cultural issues but are right up this critic’s alley…history. The Quiet Revolution: State, Society and the Canadian Horror Film looks at just how social and political tensions of the 60s and 70s within North America differed between the US and Canadian territories, and that aided in the creation of on-fleek horror film traditions from then until the present day in Canada but obviously beyond, as well. Think Montreal in those times and know that it bred a revolution in French-language cinema. Throw in filmmakers like David Cronenberg, whose son won Best Film this year at Sitges 2020, and we start to see that the difference between US horror and Canadian horror has distinctly been shaped by the differences in the state from which they are helmed. Nice touch with bountiful shards of film clip examples to illustrate for dorks like myself. ###-1/2

Be Water tells the story of Bruce Lee but in such an unexpected treasure kind-of-way, as so much unseen and long time not-seen footage of Bruce and his family makes the film rife with historical depictions. I never knew that he was a kid actor star for Asian cinema devotees across the globe AND that he was born in San Francisco. The documentary title is derived from one of Lee’s core philosophical beliefs and it must be clearly stated that water being fluid as it is, smooth and crystalline as it is and yet hard as anything else, capable of breaking down dams, walls and even presidencies. Superb and informative if not definitive. ####

Ahhh Becky…such a lauded name these days with Beyonce fans and the like…Telling the tragic story of lil Becky (young horror film maven Lulu Wilson) who, after losing her mother a year or so before, is doted on by her loving father (US comic actor Joel McHale) who, one day, takes her away for a respite to a) continue the healing process in nature; b) assure her they will keep their country home; and c) let her know that his now girlfriend is about to become her new mommy…with lil brother in tow. Insert a common theme in the US (the world?) right now and white supremacism rears its scary-ass head in the name of some scary, escaped convicts (led by chunky-and-charming King of Queens star Kevin James) and the hit gets real...really quickly. The unexpected force? Tween kween Becky and her boiling pre-teen angst/anger. Chil’! This film gives good thrills! ###-1/2 (now premiering on Movistar+)

There was a moment whilst screening Catalan director Lluis Danes’ interesting La Vampira de Barcelona where I felt a sense of deja vu, a sense that I was back in the 90s watching an intriguing arthouse film documenting a little remembered piece of history. At times it felt like a mix between a low-budget Age of Innocence mixed with a sincere element of Ferrara’s The Addiction. Detailing the story of Enriqeta Marti i Ripollés, known as the Vampire of the Raval or Vampire of Barcelona as the film title suggests, it has nothing to do with blood sucking and much more to do with the fact that she had connections in high places and made deals that provided children for the sexual pleasures of men amongst the rankings of high society. This spanned over years and allegedly claimed the lives of over a dozen pre-adolescent children. Some researchers have disputed this claim and deemed her merely a mental case, but this film takes the necessary steps to analyse the documented case. Winner of the Audience Award for Best Film at this years’s festival, the film opens in local cinemas on the 20/11/20. ###-1/2

Spree was a superb piece of celluloid to screen for this year’s Sitges film festival and is yet another social reflection of how the demented realm of youngsters without scruples but plenty of social media contact make for a bleak AF future. The movie tells the story of Kurt Kunkle (Stranger Thing’s Joe Keery) who is beyond obsessed with social media stardom and concocts a way to attain that by attempting to coerce a kid he used to babysit (and who is now a social media influencer) to aid him grab more live stream viewers. But what ends up happening is a slow, maddening yet funny descent into a psychopathic spree of death or near-deaths that border on all-too-real yet achingly not-real tidbits of modern reality, especially for this under 20! Superb as a thought piece, creepy thrill ride and post-modern drama. The film is now streaming on some international Amazon Prime platforms but should also see an indie cine release by early next year. ####

The Old Man: The Movie was so much fun to screen! It was like going into the millennium-style, sardonic and sarcastic humour that I so gravitate to and spinning it through an Estonian milk to butter churn. Helmed by Estonian filmmakers Mikk Magi and Oskar Lehemaa, this animated (personal fave) film goes off telling the fabled Estonian story of how cows explode and wreak havoc when doing so if they are not milked every day or so! Apparently, this tale is told to kids in Estonia and is brought to life with the story of farmer/milkman, Grandpa, whose three grandkids come to visit for the summer, only to learn a valuable lesson or two when their trusted dairy cow goes missing. What ensues is such a silly laugh riot, and yet it also touches on human emotions and fantasy at the sane time and in such a wonderfully unique way. Though released in its native Estonia late last year, it is still hard to come by and I’m grateful to have screened it this year! ####

While I was screening Polish director Lech Majewski’s latest odd offering called Valley of the Gods, it was hard not to feel an overwhelming feeling of otherworldliness. The feeling of deja vu was too true, with a tinged air of Lynch mixed with the opulent director’s-eye of Sorrentino and a dash of Kubrick-style art-rendered-reality...even that might only start to begin to explain this piece. Telling the story of a man’s breakdown due to love’s labour lost, we follow John Ecas (Josh Hartnett) trying to break free from his sadness by immersing himself into the work of a man who is an old trillionaire (John Malkovich) and documenting his life story. What enraptures the audience (if they’re able to be, that is) is how director Majewski captures the odd reality of the original US-Americans, native American tribesmen like the Navajo here, set against the realities of modern USA. Unexplainable in a way, this film either grows on you or you walk the hell away wondering, ‘WTF!’ the film opens in local cinemas on the 20/11/20. ###-1/2

When a fantastical-horror film piece is also doubling as a social-environmental thought piece that can make you laugh, you’re probably onto something interesting. That is what I kept feeling was going to occur and lo and behold, it did as I watched the new film Slaxx. Helmed by experimental Montreal film director Elza Kephart, we get the truth behind the realities of fast fashion by large corp clothiers, like Zara/H&M and yes, even YOU Bennetton…your ads are a smokescreen for the clothes maker you used to be…and I no longer can buy in the outlets, although I do find it harder than heck from time to tie not to break down and load up on canvas shoes…yet I digress. In this film, when go-getter Libby gets a post working for a fast fashion retailer, she is pumped and ready to learn, burn and chuuuuurn out sales, mostly as the ‘new season’ jeans’ are about to go on sale, but there just happens to be a twist. These ‘slacks’ are out for blood…why, you ask? Assuredly, this over the top concept come straight to us with a complete tongue-in-cheek manner but highlighting the fact that the slacks’ design came courtesy of/at the expense of a wee cotton-picking lass in the depths of India who was accidentally killed during a horrid machine snafu, says a lot. A personal favourite of mine this year. ###-1/2

[angeltriestoblog]

The One With All The Books: My favorites + tips on how to get out of your reading slump!

Ever since I was a kid, I've been obsessed with books: while most children I knew then were preoccupied with Barbie dolls and battleships, I immersed myself in fictional worlds and found trusty companions in protagonists who embarked on adventures that transcended the limits of the physical universe. Back then, I would sleep with them under my pillow, read them in the backseat of our family car even on rather turbulent road trips, and turn to them during boring class discussions.

Over time, they ended up shaping my opinions and world views, fueling my hunger for knowledge, and inspiring me to put my own thoughts down on paper. It's safe to say I wouldn't be the person I am now, had it not been for my love for the written word. Which is why I find it odd that I haven't made any of the standard recommendation posts that would normally be found on the personal blog of someone like me. In an attempt to fix that, I'm sharing with you my eight favorites of all time, not only to give them a fitting tribute (that will still not be able to do their profound impact any justice), but also encourage you to pick up a good read! Who knows, maybe it'll change your life as much as it did to mine!

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

As a kid, I loved both science and fiction, but always saw them as two concepts completely opposite from each other. When I found out that they could marry and live in perfect harmony in a genre of their own, I was over the moon. It was exciting enough, getting to teleport across universes by folding the fabric of space and time, encounter terrifying creatures who somehow parallel actual people on Earth, and learn about obscure scientific concepts. But, the fact that it manages to tie in the triumph of good over evil, and the power of familial love was just the cherry on top for me. I brought this with me everywhere I went for a solid two months, obviously with good reason.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

My mom had recommended this to me in high school, and I put off buying it for so long because I originally thought I was "too old to be reading stuff like that". Much to my surprise, what was practically disguised as a children's book, with its simple prose and watercolor illustrations, served as both as a moral allegory and criticism of the way adults operate in today's world. Though its length can trick you into thinking it's a fast read, most passages demand to be looked at a second time, reflected on, and shared to the nearest person—if you're the type to protest against annotating, you might have to rethink your stance.

Inkheart by Cornelia Funke

When I was in grade school, my parents had this rule where I was only allowed to buy a new book during special occasions, to control the growing number we had piling up in our house. I remember seeing this in the NBS branch in Glorietta, and having to wait until the end of the quarter to ask my parents to get it for me. Oh, well: as the cheesy saying goes, "True love waits." Although if there is anyone who loves books more than I do, it's Meggie Folchart, as she has inherited her father's gift of bringing fictional characters to life. But, when disaster strikes, as it always does, she must learn how to harness this special power and save her family. The world-building and imagery is unbelievably rich, Funke doesn't just paint a picture in your head: she creates a whole ass movie. No wonder eight year-old me put her up on a pedestal.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (the entire series, but maybe the third was my favorite) (ok it was, don't tell the two others) by Jenny Han

The blurb at the back of the book certainly doesn't do it justice: I remember finding this at a nearby Fully Booked and putting it down instantly, dismissing it as another cliche YA novel. Sure, Lara Jean Covey has to deal with all five of her unsent love letters to her crushes being mysteriously sent out, but she also grapples with important issues such as identity, family, and—in the third book—the future. I read Always and Forever, Lara Jean during the summer before I entered university, and every single line resonated with me so much I paused at the end of every chapter to take a crying selfie. Plus, Peter Kavinsky is my literary dream boy: if I ever expect my future significant other to take me on a cross-country road trip to go antique shopping, they'll only have him to blame.

Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler

We're taught that we shouldn't judge books by their covers, but I'm glad my twelve year old self decided to brush that aside when she bought this. Although I didn't end up reading it until five years after, I devoured the thick hardbound in a day and a half, and was reduced to a ball on my couch shortly afterwards. I know the book has the most self-explanatory title, but it's just that it takes on the universal experience of first love and heartbreak so authentically. The stream of consciousness writing style and slow pacing may be an issue for some, but I reckon it adds to its charm, as it allows Min to take readers through all the motions of a relationship in a way so relatable, entering her headspace feels like slipping into a second skin.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens by Sean Covey

A friend of mine in high school had complained to me that her mother had made this required reading for her, and I suggested I'd take it off her hands for a bit. I ended up going through her copy thrice in a month. (Ah, what I would give to go back to the days when I could still afford to read on school days.) An issue a lot of books that claim to "change your life" have is that they elaborate on these supposedly groundbreaking ideas, yet fail to break them down into doable action steps. Fortunately, Covey shares his practical advice in a structured manner, complete with examples, illustrations, and the occasional dad joke, freeing it from any preachy or condescending undertones. I don't know how to say that this is the only self-help book you'll ever need without sounding like someone from the Home Shopping Network.

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

This paperback intimidated me from the moment I first saw it on a shelf, because of the metaphorical title and steep price. But, good thing I got around to buying it eventually: this harrowing story is told by a promising doctor with his whole life ahead of him, who turns into a patient as soon as he is diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. Reading this was difficult, because I knew that no matter how hard I tried to dissect and reflect on the questions of life and death being posed by the author, I could never come close to understanding how he felt. But, that didn't make the experience any less necessary.

Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert

Creativity is a rather difficult concept to talk about in depth, because it seems so abstract. This is why the author advises readers to treat it as a living entity: one that bestows the best of ideas to those who nurture it, complements the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, and demands our full participation despite the looming presence of fear. I finished this on a school bus ride home from school, and the minute I got home, I marathoned Gilbert's TED talks and keynote speeches on YouTube: there is a distinctly tender, somewhat spiritual quality in the way she speaks about her craft, that easily makes you hang on to and follow every word she says.

Now I know books aren't everyone's go-to when looking for a way to pass the time: I've heard people say that they can't find time for it, that there's nothing out there that piques their interest, or they simply don't have the patience, given that social media posts and Netflix shows practically hold our attention spans captive in this day and age. While all are valid points, they can clearly be worked around! I was in a funk during the start of my Christmas break, because I hadn't touched a non-academic book since the new school year had started. But, I managed to finish four in the span of a month, and am currently on my fifth, as of this writing. Here are some tips I have, just in case you want to kick your reading slump in the ass as well.

Start small. Like with any habit you want to build, introduce the behavior in small increments: five push-ups, five minutes of meditation, fifty pages of a novella. Then, once you're starting to get the hang of it again and you don't feel your two brain cells shrieking for help because they can't figure out if "lived" is an actual word in the English language, you can increase it depending on your progress. This happened to me when, thanks to a notably bad case of tsundoku, I had amassed 14 (!!!) unread books in a year. I decided to tackle as soon as my vacation started, so I kicked it off with a rather easy read: Matilda by Roald Dahl, 232 pages thin, with numerous drawings.

Read something you'd actually enjoy! It's gonna be hard to stay engaged in something that doesn't excite or entice you: reading is supposed to be a hobby, not a household chore. Find something written on an interest of yours, a field of study that you've always been curious about, a person that you've looked up to for forever: I truly believe that there is no topic that hasn't been written about at this point in time.

On a somewhat related note, don't be afraid to DNF books that don't satisfy you. A lot of us pick books up because everyone else loves it, and are afraid to put it down for the fear of being othered. But, if we've all come to believe that we should sever ties with people who no longer serve us, what makes it any different for books that just don't touch our lives? I remember reading The Bell Jar when I was 13 because it came highly recommended by someone on Instagram who I found really cool. It was far too heavy for me, but I couldn't find the heart to shelf it especially after how much it cost me.

Remember that physical copies are not the only way to go. Thanks to the presence of audio and e-books, one can now enjoy stories anywhere and any time, without the daunting feel of several pages, or the burden of lugging around heavy hardbounds. (Although you are missing out on one of the best parts of reading: new book smell. Your loss.) One might find it easier to process the information this way, or even appreciate whatever the author has to say.

Talk about it with a friend! They could help keep you accountable in following through your reading goals, give you solid (and sometimes even personalized) recommendations, or accompany you in mourning over the death of a major character. It's always been a dream of mine to start or join a book club for these exact reasons, but I'm afraid this post is possibly the closest I could get to that right now. Nevertheless, I'd love to hear your suggestions and give you more of my own! Drop me a message here (or here, here, and here!) if ever you're interested.

Love and light,

Angel

[gins-potter]

fighting the good fight

Based on this fanart by Allarica

Also here on AO3

Annabeth hated her job.  She really did.

Ok, she knew she shouldn’t complain so much.  Being a lawyer after all, was nowhere near the worst thing she could be doing for money.  Especially in California.  But there was something draining about dragging herself into work everyday, doing a job she wasn’t passionate about.

She’d gone to law school because her father and her step-mother had insisted and had regretted it from the first day.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t good at it, she actually surprisingly good and was slowly making a name for herself, but there were days when she just couldn’t deal with the stupid kids who thought breaking into SeaWorld to swim with the dolphins was a good idea.

Annabeth strode down the hallway of the precinct, her heels clicking loudly against the linoleum floor, nodding to hello to the familiar faces around the place.  Despite being a defence attorney, Annabeth was respected amongst local officers, having built a reputation of a high moral standard.  Everyone around here knew she only took clients that she truly believed were innocent or that no one wanted to see put into jail; kids stealing from service stations to pay for their sick mum’s medical bills, teenagers dragged into the wrong side of the law, people who had never been taught a better way.

So when the officer stationed outside interrogation room 2 gave her a dubious once over, she wasn’t surprised.  “Don’t know why you’re here, Miss Chase.  This one’s guilty as,” he said as he stepped away to unlock the door and let her in.

“We all have to do what we have to do, Officer,” she said carelessly, not betraying how she had fought tooth and nail with her boss against taking this case.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he rumbled back as she stepped inside.

Perseus Jackson was not what she was expecting.  Although she hadn’t known what to expect from a guy named Perseus, from the crime she had been expecting a rich boy in designer clothes who thought he could do whatever he wanted because of Daddy’s money.  But Perseus was the exact opposite of anything she could have ever expected.

His black hair with an aqua undercurrent running through it was styled into a undercut and made his green eyes that much more startling.  His loose singlet - adorned with the proclamation “Save the Dolphins” with an illustration of a dolphin skeleton - exposed muscular biceps and ribs that were marked with ink.  Metal glinted at both his lip, eyebrow and ear lobe and deft fingers played with a silver band on his finger and a leather cord with beads that hung around his neck.  Annabeth was not surprised to find a skateboard sitting by the guy’s feet.

Those bright green eyes, alight with surprising intelligence, burned into her the second she stepped into the room.

“Let me guess,” he said lowly.  “My lawyer?”  His chuckle was a low as his voice and twice as husky.  His smile was that of a child who had been caught doing something wrong and knew it; a troublemaker’s smile that Annabeth had seen a million times in the halls of her high school.

“Yes.  You’re Perseus Jackson, I assume,” Annabeth replied briskly, her tone clearly leaving no room for jokes or games.

“Percy, if you would,” he replied.  “Still haven’t quite forgiven my mother for naming me that.”

“Greek mythology fan, is she?”

Percy quirked an amused eyebrow.  “Wise girl,” he said.  “My last lawyer wouldn’t know Greek from Roman.”

Annabeth jolted at the reminder.  She had allowed herself to relax around her client, let him lull her into a comfortable conversation about Greek and Roman mythology as though he knew somehow that was the perfect way into her heart.  And she had forgotten, if only for a moment, why she was here.

Annabeth smiled tightly.  “Get locked up a lot do you.”

“Yes,” said Percy honestly.  He spread his hands and glanced pointedly at the file in her hands.  “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

Annabeth gave up the pretense, took a seat at the interrogation table and flipped open the worryingly thick file she held.  “For being only 25 years old, your record is quite…” she trailed off when failing to find a word to aptly describe Percy’s record.

“Impressive,” he suggested with a grin.

“Not the word I would use,” she returned easily.

“Quite judgemental aren’t you,” Percy said.  He rocked back on his chair and gave her an appraising look up and down.

“Look,” Annabeth said abandoning the file and leaning forward.  “I didn’t want to take this case but it was either that or get fired.  So here we are and because it’s who I am, I’ll fight my best for you but that doesn’t mean I’m going to like you.  Are we clear?”

Percy swung forward again and the chair slammed back on all fours.  His sudden move put their faces mere inches away from each other.  “Crystal,” he grinned, all teeth.

Annabeth jerked back, ignoring the way his smile sent shivers down her spine and focussed on the job she was here to do.

“Ok so, usually breaking and entering is bumped up to a felony but because they can’t prove intent to do anything more than wander around rather than-”

“Steal a dolphin like I was planning?”

Annabeth stopped short.  “I- what?”

Percy looked up from the ring he had gone back to playing with.  “You’ve read my record.  You should know I was doing more than looking at all the pretty animals.”  By the end of his sentence, Percy’s tone had dissolved into something cynical and mocking.

Annabeth actually hadn’t read Percy’s file, or at least not in the depth she normally would have.  She had given it a cursory look over, enough to see that her client had done a surprisingly limited amount of jail time for the number of crimes he’d committed and make some assumptions, assumptions that apparently couldn’t be further from the truth.  

She glanced unwittingly down at the file, eyes tracing over the list of arrests.  The more she read, the more she understood; nights spent in holding cells for protests against marine animal captivity, weeks here and there for intervening with hunting permits, cases of vandalism, a year in jail when he was 21 for being involved with a group that stole a dolphin from a marine park and setting it free in the ocean, countless occurrences of suspicion for setting other animals free.

“Quite the activist aren’t you?”

Percy spread his hands again but this time didn’t say anything, just let his small smile speak for itself.

Despite herself, Annabeth felt a smile of her own spreading across her face and she pulled the arrest report closer.  “Then let’s see what we can do about getting you out of here.  Can’t have you locked up for fighting the good fight.”

Because she was as good as she was, fifteen minutes after they were called up by the judge they were walking out again, Percy grinning and squinting in the sun while Annabeth shook her head in fond exasperation.  She’d gotten him off on a fine and Percy was practically skipping.

“Man,” he crowed, bouncing down the steps.  “I’ve never gotten off that quick before.  I might just have to call you next time I get arrested.”

Annabeth scoffed.  Percy had pulled out the works inside, including baby seal eyes and an innocent ‘who me?’ voice as he promised the judge it would never happen again that even had Annabeth fooled for a second.  But only a second.

“Hey Annabeth,” Percy said as they neared the bottom of the steps and Annabeth didn’t bother correcting him ‘it’s Miss Chase’ again.  Distantly she noticed the tap, tap, tap of his fingers on his skateboard, the same compulsive beat he’d been tapping against his knee the whole time they’d been in court.  “Can I ask you something?  Why do you hate being a lawyer so much?”

Annabeth jerked, startled.  “How did you-”

Percy shrugged and gave her a lazy grin.  “A big win like that and not so much as a smile?  Besides there’s gotta be something you want to be doing more than helping punks like me stay out of jail.”

Annabeth shook her head, laughing a little.  “I’ve always wanted to be an architect.”  She didn’t know why she was telling him that but she was.

Percy cocked his head.  “So why aren’t you off being an architect then?”

“ That , is a very long story,” she said even though it really wasn’t and abruptly she turned on her heel and headed for her car.  Percy kept pace with her easily and Annabeth cursed his long legs.

“We could discuss it over dinner sometime?” he said hopefully, a stupidly adorable gleam in his eyes.

“I don’t date my clients,” she replied briskly.  And damn, because now that gleam was growing brighter and he was smiling at her again.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

Annabeth sighed and came to a halt, digging around in her blazer pocket for a business card which she held out of his reach for a second.  “Call me next time you’re going to do something stupid so I have some time to prepare.”

Percy snagged the card from her and tucked it away carefully in his jeans pocket.

“I think we should have dinner.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and chuckled, already turning to her car again.  “I don’t date clients, Mr Jackson,” she called over her shoulder.  “And you won’t be an exception.”

She could hear the grin in his voice as he called after her, “Oh, don’t you worry Miss Annabeth Chase, I live to be the exception,” and damn her, but she was smiling all over again.