#as sort of a cautionary tale to actually teach kids these things

[crumbleclub]

Mike trying to rationalize why Henry is okay with his dad hurting him, even when Michael isn't okay with him hurting his siblings. Even when nobody is okay with Michael hurting his siblings.

It wasn't as bad, right? He never laid a finger on them. They were only words.

Maybe it's because Mike is older. This bleeds into his protests, his haphazard attempts to protect. "Please, he's only six." Don't hurt him. Don't hurt him the way that you hurt me.

William finds this entertaining. He makes note of these things, wonders if he'd respond differently if William tried something else.

Maybe it's because William is an adult. He learns not to trust anyone older than him, but to let them do whatever they want. He learns to freeze; to shut down.

This makes him an easy target later on.

Is it because Michael deserves it? After Evan dies, he's sure that must be it. Willian knew what he was, and he only gave him what he already had coming. Michael was a murderer, after all. He deserved everything anyone might do to him.

It was his own fault.

[serialkillerinthemaking]

below the cut is my insanely long analysis of sa and its metaphors its bad but i did in an hour with a headache so it is what it is

analyzing sa even though it's been said so much it's redundant I just need a place to collect it all ya know

note: none of this is chronological to the story and its probably just going to be the song lyrics

there are many run-on sentences and grammar problems sorry. I'm writing this off the idea that everyone has a decent understanding of sa and its plot.

obviously, mama who bore is about Wendla’s mom not telling her about sex. mwbmr is the same thing except it shows none of the girl's mom tells them about sex.

all that's known starts with the boys robotically repeating Virgil's Aeneid before Melchior breaks out and starts singing. He explains that science and facts are pushed aside in favor of religion and his parents wanting him to fall in line and not question what is taught. that's the general theme of the song. he is determined not to become part of the hivemind and question what is taught. he wants to find and see and experience more than what they know of and are teaching in terms of the world and he himself.

He mentions the stars and them being sort of all-knowing. stars are brought up again in those you've known sort of being a metaphor for society and the children of his generation and the ones to come. In those youve known, he vows to read Moritz and Wendla's dreams to the stars because they are dead and can really communicate with him and therefore rely on him to spread the word of their thoughts and ideas and stories. this being a cautionary tale, those stories must be told.

he mentions the repression of free thought. children are naturally curious of the world around them but as they grow up the adults push them not to be and only to accept what we know now. he doesn't want to lose this and stop eternally searching for more. this is sort of put into the term "purple summer". meaning the story, the cause, the prevention, and the tragic beauty of the story. we'll come back to the meaning of purple summer itself.

he says one day all will know generally meaning what is happening beneath the surface and societies refusal to talk about it and explore it. in purple summer this comes back more concrete. instead of one day, more like a distant hope, he says all shall know. they will know now, soon, not one day in the distant future. In the end, his journey is complete and it goes from one day all will know to all shall know. 

tbol and my junk are pretty straight forward you guys don't need me for those.

touch me is basically about the yearning for sex and to know what is. there are some metaphors but they are pretty self-contained within the song itself and don't really have enough grasp on them to go too deep. either that or they're really not actually that deep lol.

woyb is basically about Melchior and Wendla wanting to be with each other and trying to resist the temptation because of oppression

The dark I know well is about the rape and sexual assault of Martha and Ilse at the hands of her father and artist friends, respectively. Again the song uses one central self-contained metaphor that is never brought up again in the context of the show and is pretty easy to understand. 

and then there were none has frau Gabor intermittently reading a letter she wrote in response to Moritz asking for money to escape. Moritz jumps in and sings his thoughts as he reads the letter and basically watches his last hope fall through. he feels she tries to sugarcoat the point of the letter. he is mad for saying things in an attempt to make him feel better and to try her best to help, such as writing a letter to his parents. she tells him she still cares for him but can't help him. he feels he has no other option left after failing his tests. you all know the plot you don't need me to explain it.

mirror blue night Melchior is horny blah blah blah I hate this song moving on

I believe while they disobey the church and its a church song irony yeah

(it's so late I'm sorry)

don't do sadness blue wind ohoho lets goooo

Moritz wishes to be a butterfly, no longer having to deal with life, and happily flying. he says he doesn't do sadness because he just can't handle it anymore. the failing the test hurt him and frau Gabor refusing to help was the straw that broke the camel's back. he can't take it anymore. Ilse comes in and sees he's sad. it's cold and dark outside symbolizing his current mood so she sings about the happiness of spring and summer to cheer him up. fall and winter are analogies for sadness and pessimism, spring and summer are happiness and optimism, hence spring awakening, the happiness coming back after the sad times. purple summer also references that but that's for later. she talks about when they were kids happily playing in the sun. wind, a cold sad month thing always comes back but it always goes away. happiness will always come and sadness will always go just like the seasons. Moritz is only living in fall and autumn, not seeing the spring and summer ahead. Ilse gets through her life through optimism relying on the blue wind never taking when it creeps up and always going away once again. and then it just kinda repeats you get the rest.

left behind. he never got to grow up and be an adult and its his parent's (mostly his dad's) fault. metaphor once again fully in the song not really brought up again.

you guys got the rest (more than sufficient critical conjecture on woybr) until WHISPERING whooo

she hears the ghosts because throughout she alive and dead. sort of. everyone is sad. she describes her family's grief at her funeral. the preacher uses her as a cautionary tale and warns others of her fate. they say she did bad things and this how she ended up. such a shame, such a sin. she feels powerless, like she didn't have a voice and only could do what was told of her. she didn't know any better despite her best efforts. she mentions summer longing in the wind. happiness being swept up by sadness was pretty much her whole "relationship" with Melchior.

👏those👏you've👏known

there is so much I'm just gonna analyze it line by line (i consider this the pinnacle of metaphors in theatre considering the buildup)

MORITZ

Those you’ve known

And lost, still walk behind you

All alone

They linger till they find you

self explanatory pretty much

Without them

The world grows dark around you

And nothing is the same until you know that they have found you

Melchior's world has crumbled, he feels like it never going to be the same without them, but he found them.

WENDLA

Those you’ve pained

May carry that still with them

All the same

They whisper: “All forgiven.”

He hurt her, and she's still hurting but she forgives him because there is love in heaven, all will be forgiven.

Still your heart says

The shadows bring the starlight

And everything you’ve ever been is still there in the dark night

everything she was was left behind, but she still finds it here.

WENDLA

When the northern wind blows

The sorrows your heart holds

There are those who still know –

They’re still home

We’re still home

he's still hurting, they're still there.

MORITZ (Sung In Counterpart)

Though you know

You’ve left them far behind

You walk on by yourself, and not with them –

Still you know

They will fill your heart and mind

When they say there’s a way through this

he's living and must continue without them but they are still there in his heart.

MELCHIOR, MORITZ AND WENDLA

Those you’ve known

And lost, still walk behind you

All alone

Their song still seems to find you

They call you

As if you knew their longing –

They whistle through the lonely wind, the long blue shadows falling

they are still there! 

MELCHIOR

All alone

But still I hear their yearning

Through the dark, the moon, alone there, burning

The stars too

They tell of spring returning –

And summer with another wind that no one yet has known

The stars are back! they are all knowing and tell of the sadness passing, the happiness returning, with something new.

(MORITZ and WENDLA Join with Counterparts)

They call me –

Through all things –

Night’s falling

But somehow I go on

You watch me

Just watch me –

I’m calling

From longing

a call back to all thats known

WENDLA (Sung in Counterpart)

When the northern wind blows

The sorrows your heart’s known –

I believe…

she still believes in forgiveness.

MORITZ (Sung in Counterpart)

Still you known

There’s so much more to find –

Another dream, another love you’ll hold

he doesn't have to be stuck on them and they are giving him permission to move on and find happiness again.

Still you know

To trust your own true mind

On your way – you are not alone

There are those who still know

a call back to all that's known, 

MELCHIOR (Sung Alone)

Now they’ll walk on my arm through the distant night

And I won’t let them stray from my heart

Through the wind, through the dark, through the winter light

I will read all their dreams to the stars

i dissected this line back in all thats known but STARS! they back

I'll walk now with them

I’ll call on their names

I’ll see their thoughts are known

they know now! all will know he knows and know they know! their story will be told!

WENDLA

Not gone –

Not gone –

they are still there!

MELCHIOR

They walk with my heart –

And I'll never let them go

they are still there!

I’ll never let them go

I’ll never let them go

You watch me

Just watch me

I’m calling

I’m calling –

And one day all will know

ALL👏WILL👏KNOW👏

P U R P L E  S U M M E R

purple has historically represented freedom, the kids now have freedom and summer here means happiness. so now they have both. purple summer is just yeah knowledge and freedom of oppression and the hivemind because this Germany 1890 bad (its a john Mulaney reference I'm so sorry im losing my mind)

And all shall know the wonder

I will sing the song of purple summer

All thats known, all will know all shall know. They will know because we will tell them.

And still, I wait

The swallow brings

A song of what's to follow -

The glory of the spring

The happiness! The knowledge! The freedom! Its coming! It waking it up! SPRING IS AWAKENING! ahhhhhhhhhh

[shinymooncolor]

Hi all!

As usual, I owe all of this to the wonderful world created by @lumosinlove. 🙏🏻

I love Kris so much. Single dad, hockey star is a mood. Apologies in advance. 😇

Enjoy!

Sweater weather chats #2

Kris joins a super secret club. Lily gets emotional. We get introduced to the bat cave. Kris is a cautionary tale for the rookies. Or that’s what Nado days. Kris is also an honorary mom. Celeste reminisces. Kasey, Nado and Kuny babysits. Everybody loves Remus. Ava wants a pony. Natalie has plans. SO MUCH BROMANCE.

—————

Emotional support group and Remus 🤩🥰🏒:

Friday 3.32 pm

NatNat added Kris to the group.

Allison: do I spy a new member? Welcome to the dark side, Kris. The rules are simple - this is a safe space for us to discuss our men, babies and other related topics.

Lucia: also, never tell the boys what happens at brunch. 😁

Celeste: welcome Kris. We thought you’d enjoy coming to brunch with us - Ava is always welcome.

Kris: woah? What is this? Shit. I’m honored. Also Remus? Wtf.

Remus: hi kris yeah I don’t know how I was allowed in, but it’s nice. 😁

NatNat: well Dumo might be the honorary dad but Kris is totally the honorary mom on the team. He wiped Gatorade off of Leo’s face last game. It was adorable 😍😍😍

Kris: well James did unscrew the top as a prank, not actually sure it’s a prank if you do it every game. And Leo didn’t realize. And he’s weird about not taking his blocker off. Had to help the kid out. 😆

Allison: well it made us enroll you in our secret and sacred club. Welcome! 🤩

NatNat: i forgot to send this on Wednesday!! Baby Russian with baby puppies

*kuny puppy pic*

GingerLily: awwww he looks so happy. James said he’s been depressed he cannot train this week. I love this. 😍

Anyaismyname: my baby. I knew him from he was 16. Such a sweet boy.

Kris: sweet? Are we talking about the same Kuny? He taught Ava to cuss a ref and last time the media asked her what she thought of the game and my playing, she parroted that. I had a trending tag for a month after that on Twitter😔

NatNat: I’m not condoning it but it was hilarious. I cried. But seriously he adopted a cat and named her Aya and they send me selfies with her every 7 minutes. They built her a castle in their ridiculous bat cave game room. 😅👑🐱

Remus: the bat cave is awesome. They’ve got pro surround sound and all. And a real slushee machine. 🤖 also kris, coach want you all back on the ice in 10.

NatNat: yeah haha kase is excited to go for halo night. Apparently they’ve got some sort of new VR stuff for practicing as well. 🏒🏒🏒

Celeste: Kris, don’t worry about the curse words. Marc spent three months yelling fuck at everything after Logan accidentally taught him. They get over it quick and the fans love you even more after that - haven’t you been on the most eligible list for your entire career? Also, didn’t Anya tell Kuny’s mom?

Anyaismyname: da, and believe me, Scolding work better in Russian. And I promised her to look out for her boy.

Kris: thanks guys, I know. I was just shocked. She’s my baby and sometimes I just can’t handle how quick she grows... it’s not fair... and yeah, apparently a single dad with a travel heavy job is eligible. Weird.... also - the boys’ game room is amazing and they did set up a my little pony game for her last time on the projector. Be there in three Re!!! 🏃‍♂️

GingerLily: awww I cant believe she was a baby when I first met her. She grows sooo quick! 😍

Kris: well it’s you soon! Good luck - you think you know what love feels like but. Damn, a baby just changes things. ☺️

GingerLily: we’re starting on the nursery next week and I can’t wait. James is hopeless with tools though but we’ve decided on a color theme at least 🥰🥰🥰

Celeste: mmh, that is always a big moment. I remember when I was pregnant with Adele, Pascal was still just settling into the Lions and we’d already moved twice, but something changed when we started working on the nursery. It got real then - he didn’t get the puck theme he wanted but nevertheless, I think that was when he really realized he was about to become a father 😍

NatNat: awwwww, can’t even imagine you two without your babies 😁

Celeste: me neither, honey, me neither. 😉

Friday, 4.38 pm

Kris: Natalie do you think we could find a puppy for Ava? We could house train it during off season and she’s been begging for a puppy for a while and i really want one too and hopefully with a puppy the “I want a pony” phase can be forgotten! :)

NatNat: of course!!! Also shouldn’t you be at training?

Kris: We finished 5 minutes ago. :) also thanks for cheering Kuny up, he was allowed to do stretches today.

NatNat: oh god. Forget the time out here. Is kase done too?

Kris: yeah but he’s currently unavailable. Something about hug a goalie day *pic of kasey and Leo, on the ice under a mountain of players*

GingerLily: 🤦🏽

Celeste: on another note my lovelies. I would love to host brunch next Sunday! We have full attendance - Elsa is visiting from Sweden! :) please let me know how many babies you’re bringing.

Sunday 7.03 am

Kris: hi Celeste. I’m really sorry to do this last minute but ava’s mom has cancelled again and I can’t get a sitter this late. I’d love to come for brunch next time though.

Celeste: oh my dear. Bring her. It’s absolutely no problem.

NatNat: hey kris. Kasey is going to nado and Kuny and he says they’re happy to babysit. Also he wants to know why you and Remus are invited to brunch. Don’t tell him anything. 😉😉😉

Kris: oh I don’t want to be a problem they probably don’t want a 4-year old to disturb their halo game...😬

NatNat: it’s not a problem at all :) (also need kase to practice - not getting any younger here 😏🤩)

Kris: well if it’s really no problem I know Ava would love to spend time with them. :) also totally rooting for baby blizzards soon!

———-

Blizzard created a new group: Babysitting

Blizzard added RussianGod, Nadotheman and KrisVolley

Blizzard: hey guys. Quick change of plans. Ava is hanging out with us today. Kris is going to brunch with the girls?! Said we’d be happy to spoil baby munchkin and teach her more Russian curse words

RussianGod: ok. Can we eat cookie? Also no bad words. Don’t want more yelling from Anya. She scary.

Blizzard: season diet Kuny. Oreos are only for Ava. And isn’t Anya like 5.2?

RussianGod: nado is still sleeping. But we can go to park and meet ladies. They love single dad. But Anya is little but scary. Have you not see how she keep sergei in check?

KrisVolley; you are not using my baby to meet ladies. Haha oh never thought of that. Anya is always nice to me 😂

KrisVolley: Here are the ground rules gentlemen!!!!

1) no begging - you need to say no and stick with it, unless she’s crying properly don’t give in to her. She hissy cries when she wants things her way

2) not too much sugar and candy alright? (Looking at you Kuny)

3) Kuny and nado can’t use her as a ploy to ensnare women.

4) do NOT teach her any more Russians words unless they’re good, safe and cute words. The press still hounds me from the time you taught her to cuss a ref....

5) have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Nadotheman: Morning boys. Also happy to babysit. But tHaNkS fOR aSkInG kase... 👍🏻 also @KrisVolley:

1) how the hell are we supposed to say no to that face? No idea how you made such a beautiful baby.

2) no problem. (Totally lying to you)

3) we would never use our baby niece in such a despicable way 😳 also it was one time and we can’t help that we are irresistible to baby-crazy ladies.

4) she can only scold a ref. According to Kuny totally safe and good words. Don’t believe what Sergei or Sunny says. Or the press.

5) so don’t knock up a fan at 18? Alright man got it.

KrisVolley: ....

Nadotheman: just keeping it real. You’re a cautionary tale for the rookies man. But your baby is cute. And you do a great job bro! 💪🏻

KrisVolley: I’m a what?? And thanks Nado. 😊

Blizzard: When you’re done with your moment.... I’m picking her up in five, can Nat go with you to Dumo’s? Ava and I will go have brunch at the bat cave and have an awesome time. And don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on the boys.

KrisVolley: thanks Blizzard. Good practice as well 😉

Kuny: 👀👀👀👀 baby blizzard????

Blizzard: alright calm down m8. We’re not even married (no judging kris)

Nadotheman: whatever you say bro. You gotta make a baby with that girl - she swooned at family skate. Also we all saw you makin heart eyes at the Brady bunch. 😆😆😆😆

Blizzard: they’re adorable and this conversation ends here. We’re outside now Kris. Also don’t encourage Nat. I’ve got a plan. 😬

——-

Nado: Kuny. Kuny. Is it baby safe? They’re here in 15 minutes.

Kuny: why you text me? I’m next door.

Kuny: also yes is fine. Maybe get bra down. It been in fan for 3 days

Nado: you’re the tall one. Get it down.

Kuny: I not put it there.

Nado: fine you lazy jerk. I’ll get it down.

Kuny: 😘

Nado: fuck off. But I love you too bro.

—-

Until next time, my lovelies 🥰

Always open for ideas, prompts, constructive criticism!

Also - does hug a goalie day exist? I think it should.

[sepublic]

Lilith learning from her mistakes

           A while ago I made a post analyzing and dissecting Eda and Lilith’s role as teachers, and the different ways they engage with this. And how Eda isn’t much of a great/academic, conventional teacher herself, while Lily is… but on the flipside, Eda is much more of an emotional role model with life-lessons, while Lilith is kind of a bad influence both as herself and as a medium for the Emperor’s Coven and its propaganda. But then a recent reblog just made the joke, reminding me of ANOTHER joke-post I made about Lilith…

           And I’m just considering that while Eda is the weird academic teacher and Lilith is the normal one- Eda is the conventional role model in that she has her stuff put together, and generally is experienced and street-wise, and well aware of her own shortcomings and tries to improve them… While Lilith serves as an unconventional purpose in that she’s a cautionary tale, of explicitly what NOT to do! It’s a very unorthodox, but in some ways potent, way of showing kids why you REALLY want to do the right thing, because the wrong thing can really mess you up in its own way…

           So you have Eda and Lilith; One is conventional as an academic teacher, the other not so much. But on the flipside, one is conventional as the kind of mentor that teaches you life-lessons and encourages you to grow, while the other… Isn’t. And it’s a hilarious duality, because in a lot of ways Eda is unorthodox while Lilith isn’t- But in just as many ways, Eda is the more conventional, in contrast to Lilith! 

          These sisters really are two sides of the same coin and parallels, I love it, and it’d be hilarious if Lilith herself came to this realization in-universe… Maybe with Luz admitting that after seeing how Lilith screwed up with Eda, Luz knows better than to lie to Camila about what happened, and will tell the truth as soon as she gets the chance. And Lilith just has this weird epiphany… And realizes that if others can learn from her mistakes, maybe she can learn from her own?

           Especially since Lilith has more access to the ‘educational materials’ (AKA her memories of her own shortcomings) than anyone else… So coupled with some outside input from others who can actually tell Lily what she’s doing or HAD been doing was wrong, and I think it could be an interesting way for Lilith to really self-reflect… To finally consider where she went wrong, with information from the people she actually wronged- So that when Lilith DOES try to improve herself, she can do so as efficiently as possible. And hopefully, she can recognize the distinctions between what she did right VS what she did wrong, so she can focus on repeating and expanding upon the former…

           If Lilith becomes resigned to the idea that she can only do wrong, Luz and Eda can really show her that the reason they’re even giving her this second chance, is because Lilith HAS proven she’s not a hopeless cause to them! And considering how much Lilith hurt those two, that’s saying a lot- So it can really provide a lot of hope for Lilith that hey, if Eda really does know better than you… Then maybe she knows better when she says Lilith is worth helping and loving, compared to when Lilith insists otherwise about herself. Plus, it’d just be really surreal for Lilith to look to herself for guidance for once, to actually look to herself for the responsibility and initiative of deciding what to do.

          Especially since the last time she made her worst mistake (cursing Eda), Lilith did so by considering what Belos would do… Not what SHE would do, because Lilith was a kid, and kids don’t have the best concept of self-identity, especially not when there’s a Coven System that actively discourages this. And maybe that’s what she does and DID do, for a while… Deflecting the blame onto Belos low-key, with Lilith reassuring herself that she’s only doing what HE would’ve done, in a “I was just following orders” sort of way that really culminates, when Lilith is called out by Eda for taking Luz hostage- And Lilith gets frustrated and even takes this personally, because she’s just doing what BELOS is telling her to do, in addition to of course the threat of execution- She’s just enforcing Belos’ will, just a humble messenger for the Emperor, as the Emperor is a humble messenger for the Titan…

          And so by taking responsibility for her own actions or at least considering her part in them, it’s this kind of self-reflection that will really force Lilith to consider her own identity, her sense of self… It will make Lilith consider what choices of hers were actually HERS, or just the toxic influence/decisions of others. She’ll have to reflect on where she DID have the freedom to make a choice, so Lilith can see where she could’ve done better, and apply that to the present. And Lilith has to consider how much personhood she’s actually built up in the Emperor’s Coven, how much of her identity is wrapped around it; And what parts of herself aren’t, what parts of herself she CAN build off of, etc.

          Lilith will actually have to consider who she is and what that means, and whether or not she wants to change that, and in what way… And hopefully, it can all lead to Lilith developing a better sense of self, and feeling so much more liberated in as she can now explore who she is, and create more of that person if there’s not much depth to be found. It’s by choosing where choices are offered to her, that Lilith can form any semblance of identity and decide who she is; And now, she has SO much more freedom to make these decisions!

          It’ll be scary the possibilities, the ways things could go wrong, all the potentially-amazing choices you might miss out on without someone telling you what to do… But that’s why Eda, Luz, and King are here to guide Lilith, and make her feel comfortable with making decisions, even if that means mistakes- Because Lilith can learn from new mistakes, just as she does from her old ones! Just as Eda provides this to Luz, Lilith now has the support network, the safety net to try out different things, without fearing backlash and consequences that make her regret the power of choice in the first place.

          She no longer has to fear failure, Lilith will realize that she can both recover and even learn from it… And that can encourage her to go ahead and attempt things, be it a new look for yourself, or the effort to help someone when you think there’s nothing you have that you can provide. It can give Lilith certainty in her decisions, leave no room for doubt on what she chose after exploring the other decisions… And maybe enable Lilith to keep fighting for a better future, even if she knows she might not win. Because it’s better to be true to yourself, to go down for maintaining your own sense of identity, than to become a covenscout to the system- And Lilith knows firsthand just how terrible that is! Even if Lilith knows she’ll fail, she might still insist on fighting alongside her sister Eda anyway, because going down together is much better than living on alone, as Lilith has experience in renouncing.

[aion-rsa]

In 2020, The Deutschland Series is As Relevant As Ever

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The final season of the Deutschland spy series begins with an ending. In the opening episode of Deutschland 89, the Berlin Wall falls, giving East German citizens free movement to West Germany and beyond for the first time in decades. What follows in the eight-episode final season is a social study in how different people react when their reality is suddenly and fundamentally altered. In the year 2020, as the world continues to reel from the seismic changes COVID-19 has wrought, it’s an unexpectedly relatable experience.

“Deutschland 89 is really about how people have to reinvent themselves during a crisis,” says Deutschland series co-creator Joerg Winger. “So I think, in that way, it does reflect today, but that was not intentional.”

From the beginning, the Deutschland series—which launched in 2015 with Deutschland 83, continued in 2018 with Deutschland 86, and just concluded with Deutschland 89—has used history as a metaphor for contemporary politics. Because of this and because, as Faulkner famously wrote, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past,” it has never been hard to find topical parallels in the Deutschland story, especially when the world skews unfortunately closer to the historic tensions depicted.

“I still remember when Joerg and I first started working on Deutschland 83, thinking, ‘Maybe we’ll have to remind people of the Cold War. Maybe they won’t remember any of this,’” says co-creator Anna Winger (who also co-created Netflix’s 2020 German-American drama Unorthodox). “And then the tension with Russia began again, and there was this sort of egocentric writer moment where you’re like, ‘Did I write it and make it happen? Why is this happening again?’ … Certainly, we couldn’t have predicted tension with Russia coming back, but I think that the polarization definitely, the idea that you’re on one side or you’re on the other side, and that there is this kind of way in which the world has become divided, we were definitely exploring that.” 

Deutschland 83 follows East German kid Martin Rauch (Jonas Nay) as he is forced by his HVA agent aunt Lenora (Maria Schrader) and his estranged father Walter (Sylvester Groth) to become a spy in West Germany. Using the real-life Able Archer incident (which some historians believe is the closest we’ve come to nuclear war since the Cuban Missile Crisis) as setting, the first season is a fast-paced yet complex cautionary tale of what can happen when we lose track of the bigger picture in favor of political allegiances. 

On a more character-driven level, Deutschland 83 is the story of a young man caught between a desperation to stay alive so he can return home to his ill mother and pregnant girlfriend and a desire to keep the world from erupting into nuclear disaster. Because of this, much of the success of that first season and moving forward relied on the casting of the overwhelmed yet capable Martin. When Nay read the script for the Deutschland 83 pilot, he knew he wanted the part.

“I think that the first episode of the whole series is a masterpiece in throwing you directly into something,” says Nay. “I think, dramaturgy-wise, it’s really brilliant. For me, as a reader, I was so addicted. I immediately wanted to know where it went and I so deeply wanted to play that part of Martin.”

Later, Nay would find out that Anna Winger had his picture on the wall during the writing process, imagining him as Martin, but Nay didn’t know that when he went for the part.

“I hadn’t played something of that genre, or anything comparable to that before,” says Nay. “So I don’t really know where she had the impression from that this could be a part for me, actually. The things I shot before were more like society drama, feature films. It was really, really, really different.”

Joerg Winger says that Nay was always their first choice.

“There was a discussion we had at a later point with the directors in 83, who were thinking, maybe we need someone who’s more of a conventional hero, like a young James Bond kind of actor,” says Joerg Winger. “But I think, for us, it was really important that he has something vulnerable since one of the tweaks of the spy genre in Deutschland 83 is that it’s a spy show combined with a coming-of-age drama, and Jonas has the vulnerability and almost the boyishness and innocence. He’s a very good, solid person. And that translates also, I think, into his performance.” 

The initial idea for the series came from Joerg Winger’s own military service experience during the 80s as a conscripted Bundeswehr soldier in West Germany, intercepting messages from Russian troops in the German Democratic Republic. But, for many people watching the series who were born after 89, a divided Germany may be hard to imagine.

“With young people, it’s almost like what you learn in school ends with World War II, and then you never really got to the Cold War,” says Anna Winger. “So, for a lot of young people, at least in Germany, they would say to us, ‘This is like science fiction.’ It’s like, ‘Imagine a world, and there’s a wall that goes down the middle of Berlin, and West Berlin is cut off from supplies, and you can’t get across it.’ And you know, if you were to describe all that to anyone who was born in Berlin since 1989, it would sound absurd. It’s like, ‘And the dinosaurs roamed the earth.’ It’s very crazy to them. So, in a funny way, I’ve always thought the show is a little bit like the past as science fiction.”

Nay, who was born in 1990, days before the reunification of Germany, is one of those people.

“I think there’s actually a lot that changed my awareness of close German history, in particular the 80s, of course,” says Nay. “I remember that when I read the first series, the first question that came to my mind was: ‘Were we really so close to a nuclear war? Would anybody have told me if it was so close? Isn’t that crazy that nobody told me before? Is it real or is it just made up, to increase attention?’ I was like, ‘OK, it seems a little odd to me that we were close before to a nuclear war and I never heard that before.’ I’m really curious now what is going on behind closed walls, what I don’t know about nowadays.”

While all three seasons of the Deutschland series explores many of the same themes, the three-year time jump built into the fabric of the show means each season gets a soft narrative reset for its characters and setting. When asked about the choice to have three-year time jumps, Joerg Winger said it was somewhat incidental. Because of Able Archer and some of the Neue Deutsche Welle music circa 1983, the Wingers knew they wanted to start their story in 1983. They also knew that they wanted to do a trilogy and that it should end in 1989, with the fall of the Berlin Wall. Because of this, of the three settings, 1986 is the most random.

“I think it’s a little bit like the Buddhist wisdom: wherever you dig, if you dig for long enough, you’ll find something,” says Joerg Winger of the 1986 setting. “We were a little bit nervous about the 86 question. When we started 86, we were like, ‘OK, so what are we going to find in ’86?’ But then there’s just so much.”

When we catch back up with Martin in Deutschland 86, he has been exiled from East Germany for three years, living in Angola where he teaches English at an orphanage. While the other two seasons in the story keep their focus relatively tight on East and West Germany, Deutschland 86 expands its Cold War scope to visit places like Libya and Paris, where geopolitical tensions are manifesting in different ways but are still part of the same global story.

“We started writing 86 the day after the Trump election,” says Anna Winger, “and I remember feeling really focused on looking at capitalism, because the story of 86 is kind of about the capitalist core of the engine that kept the communist regime going. And you see all these guys who are holding on to what they’ve managed to build at all costs, even though it’s all really coming apart.”

The Deutschland storyline comes to fruition in Deutschland 89. Three years following the events of Deutschland 86, the East German government is in even more dire straits. They are out of money, and the people are protesting. The final season is set against the backdrop of the collapse of the East German government.

“People didn’t know what was going to happen for a few months, and that is a very unusual situation,” says Anna Winger of the time period. “And also, for all these spies, they were really good spies, and suddenly, they had no country, the goals were completely unclear, and they were in the same place. The crazy thing about people in Berlin who live on the East side is they haven’t gone anywhere, but everything else has changed. It’s as if their country completely changed, and they’re still living on the same piece of earth, and that’s wild.”

The Deutschland series may explore East German life in the 1980s at different stages of Communist collapse, but the parallels to the experience of living in today’s crumbling capitalism are striking.

“I think as we came towards the end of the arc of the trilogy, certainly we got deeper and deeper into exploring late-stage capitalism and how that’s the patriarchy holding onto power in any sort of regime,” says Anna Winger. “We’re writing a show about late-stage communism or socialism, but it still has a lot of parallels to late-stage capitalism.”

In the midst of it all, is Martin Rauch, an audience surrogate for an everyday person just trying to live a good life with the people he loves amidst political and social turmoil. By Deutschland 89, Martin is understandably much more jaded than his 83-era self, but he has also somehow held onto his humanity.

“What Anna and Joerg always told me was that when they created Martin and how they wanted him to succeed, he should always have this moral compass that he’s following,” says Nay. “In a big contrast to all the people around him, like [his aunt] Lenora or [his father] Schweppenstette, that they are following rules given from somebody else or they’re following their idealism, their socialist idea. Martin had the chance of getting a pretty uncolored picture of East and West, of both the states and both the sides. He had to find his own [way].”

Martin’s ability to hold onto his humanity, to maintain some kind of admirable moral compass despite all of the things he has been through, is where much of the optimism in the Deutschland series ultimately lies. 

“I always saw it like Martin being in the middle and people from left and right trying to pull him in directions and he’s always trying to see or weigh out which is best for him and also for people around him,” says Nay. “He’s like, yeah, it’s a hero thing I guess. I don’t know. Yeah, Joerg and Anna wanted Martin to keep that. So it was kind of a challenge to, of course, let Martin grow up and let him harden and let him be very, very suspicious, more and more, not trusting anybody because what he learns is that, if he trusts somebody, he’s going to be betrayed so he has to keep it in himself. That is the development that he goes through through all the seasons. Then, given this little lovable touch of hero-ness and moral compass, not losing that. It was kind of a balance act I would say. I gave my very best.”

Ultimately, the Deutschland series ends as it told its story: thoughtfully, and with a fundamental empathy that doesn’t guarantee a happy ending but rather something better. The possibility of holding onto one’s humanity through pain and suffering and amongst forces so much larger than any one person. In 2020, that may be the flavor of happy ending we need most of all.

“In 89, the shit’s hit the fan, and it’s really over, and people are scrambling to redefine themselves,” says Anna Winger. “But I suppose, if there’s a message to the whole thing, it’s that there are possibilities in chaos. And this is truly something I think we can learn from Germany: is that maybe there’s the possibility of reinvention that is positive, that there’s hope in reinvention, and that maybe when things come apart, there’s a chance for something good to come out of it.”

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The entirety of the Deutschland series is now available to watch on Hulu.

The post In 2020, The Deutschland Series is As Relevant As Ever appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[constantlyirksome]

A Case for Big Mouth and Why it Works (Season 3 Review.)

South Park, Family Guy, Rick and Morty, for a long time we’ve been saddled with adult cartoons whose main goals were shock and awe to set them apart. But recently, with the introduction of streaming creators are taking risks. Bojack Horseman, a show equal in its whimsy and despair, is about to air it’s final, sixth season, proving a show can be mature, and tackle adult issues, and not resort to cheap shots or punching down with racism or sexism.

Big Mouth, created by Nick Kroll and Andrew Goldberg may not shy away from lewd, offensive and downright disturbing visuals, but I would argue that it falls more in the thoughtful and complex category.

The third season is just as debauched, but it still manages to carve out a lot of time to make thoughtful observations, in between dick jokes and people wanting to fuck turkeys. Peppered in here and there are jokes that are actually well crafted, and storylines that are progressive and joyful.

Season 3 picks up right after the Valentines Day special. Andrew, a newly recruited incel and asshole has gone full entitled male, violent chauvinist while his best friend Nick, now guided by Connie the hormone monstress, becomes more thoughtful, trying to become an ally to the girls in his school. He’s not good at it but he tries.

Guiding these two, and all the other freaks in their class, are Connie and Maurice the hormone monsters, who push the kids to do stupid things without thinking in an apt representation of how shit puberty actually feels. Maya Rudolph as Connie has been the shows MVP every season, her voice dripping like honey as she tells Nick and Jessie to rob people and jack it.

That’s my favourite thing about Big Mouth, all aspects of human development and thinking are recognized by some form of beast, wizard or hag driving the process. The embodiment of human shame, Shame Wizard, last season’s breakout star voiced by Harry Potter’s David Thewlis, only appeared once in S3, but many new friends showed up that were just as nuts. An old flying hag starts following Andrews's mother around, the embodiment of menopause, screaming both the joys and heartache of a woman’s reproductive going out of business sale. Voiced by Carol Kane (Kimmy Schmidt) she teaches Mrs. Glouberman to embrace her new stage of life.

A talking phone name Cellsea voiced by Chelsea Peretti sucks Nick into the virtual vortex, the embodiment of the human addiction to screens and phones. She’s basically Gina from B99 in a phone, she bullies and berates nick, goading him to do irresponsible shit, and it’s marvelous. Returning are the talking ladybug, Mirror Missy, Depression Kitty (a giant purple cat representing depression) and many more.

The creators of this show are coming out with a spinoff called “Human Resources”, which will likely feature all these whimsical nightmares that I’m very much looking forward to.

Bigmouth S3 focuses on more than the two boys this season, giving thoughtful, and dare I say heart-warming stories for it’s more minor characters Missy, Jay and Matthew. Matthew (another disciple of the always horny Maurice) has his first kiss with another boy, successfully taming his hormones (proving men can do this) to have a sweet romance with him. Missy grapples with being “too nice”, letting her mean alter ego loose against toxic men and bullies in a truly marvelous way.

Jay finally comes to terms with who he is.  After being all sorts of confused on Valentines, he binge watches a Netflix show about a queer magician to try and help him understand who he is. After an amazing musical number featuring Martin Short and the ghost of Freddie Mercury on the many different ways you may choose to self identify he becomes sure and confident in his own bisexuality. It’s an awesome thing to see a young kid unapologetically say he’s bi, refuting people who think “bi is just a stop towards gay.” With the help of a new pansexual classmate Ali (voiced by Ali Wong) encourages him he feels okay telling his classmates.

Although he lives with Nick and his parents most of the season after his family “home alones” him, not for the first time, he’s able to go home finally to try to help his family grow like he has.

The season tackles current politics, first with the trappings of toxic masculinity and double standards in how males and females are supposed to behave. At one point Andrew (before realizing what a jackass he’s being and unintentionally ending up at a Nazi rally) says “I do feel out of control all the time and I think I’ll use that as an excuse for my actions.” After starting an online manifesto the girls and Nick help him realise this is not the way to go. Mr. Lizer the fake woke teacher at the school is a cautionary tale against following this thought process into adulthood, coming across as truly repulsive.

Nick’s obsession with his phone and that whole storyline DOES feel like a boomer wrote it “kids these days on their phone”, it’s a bit ham-fisted but Cellsea is so funny and rude that it is still an entertaining plot thread.

Other funny threads include an incestuous trip to Florida, a story about the history of female orgasms and vibrators which is actually pretty informative, and a PSA against selling ADHD medication to people who don’t need it. Although these stories border on the obscene they never punch down. A person’s identity is never the butt of a joke, they’re celebrated (there’s a lovely little creative scene that describes the story and relevance of Passover Seder).

So go watch season three of big mouth! If you can look past all the cartoon genitals there’s something in there for everyone. Plus it’s worth it to watch Coach Steve (who is more of a cryptid that pops up for a few frames every episode this season) get a makeover from Queer Eye’s fab five, and to hear Tan France call him a “really dumb man.”

[bestworstcase]

bro can you just do like the entire ever on meme, I could read your headcanons and commentary all day (but for real, your takes are super interesting!)

a n o n. bsdhfsdh

How many kids do you want Rapunzel and Eugene to have?

in all honesty i Literally could not care less. maybe twins as a nod to the original fairytale, but like, a good ten years into the future. rapunzel deserves a nice long stint of just Living Her Best Life before she even thinks about having kids

Where do you want or see Cass going?

answered here. also, self indulgently, in my head at some point she ends up in antares, which is a city-state near the dark kingdom which i developed for bitter snow. it’s big and old and crowded and given that it’s built on top of a bunch of huge black rocks we’re going to just... ignore what happened to the black rocks in canon when the sundrop and moonstone fused, k?

What are some of Queen Rapunzel’s new policies?

blah! i like to think she would also institute widespread public schooling, because she’s so curious and so many of her skills are self taught out of passion and personal interest and i think she would want to inculcate those values in the children of her subjects. coronan literacy skyrockets under her reign

What will Varian think of next?

i think it’s sort of funny to take varian at his word when he calls himself an alchemist and assume he is, in fact, in a perpetual state of trying to make a philosopher’s stone. 

How many partners will Cass have, if any at all?

i mean look at her she could have her pick of any gay woman on the continent. um. in bitter snow she dates or has flings with 2... people, maybe 3 depending on how exactly we define “dates.”

What will Captain do now?

he will grow an ever more glorious beard. also this.

How will Hector, Adira, and Edmund live in the Dark Kingdom again?

they’re going to have a very welcoming immigration policy otherwise dark kingdom 2: electric boogaloo is not going to last for very long, now is it.

i think adira will spend a lot of time being the voice of reason considering that edmund lived in total isolation for twenty-five years and went a bit funny while hector lived in total isolation for twenty-five years and turned into a feral tree man and then got possessed. i also think the dark kingdom will be instrumental in the development of fantasy-telegraphs, because they do after all have a pretty pressing reason to do so

How are Stalyan and Brock doing?

stalyan met brock in, like, a dive bar somewhere and went oh my god you have to come to corona with me and pretend to be my date it’ll be so fucking funny so that’s what they did. anyway caine happened to be out on parole at the time and they bumped into each other and stalyan was like 👀 and caine was like 👀 and they’re pirate queens now. stalyan and brock are still bros.

How are the Stabbingtons doing?

they’re like three months away from getting out for good behavior. eugene is so proud.

How many times will Andrew keep trying to escape?

He Will Never Stop

How will Vex and Quaid rebuild Vardaros?

i mean we’re all basically agreed that quaid is an expy of sam vimes, right? right? which is to say they’re going to drag vardaros kicking and screaming out of the hole its in through sheer raw stubbornness and innate sense of justice and fair play. also at some point quaid is going to arrest a dragon, probably

How will the Baron react to Stalyan dating Brock?

you think stalyan is still in contact with her shitty dad? HA! it is to laugh

How are Hookfoot and Seraphina doing?

seraphina did several months of community service due to her sentence being considerably lightened after her willing return of the stolen pearl and she has since gotten her life in order and is doing a tour of the coastline with hookfoot while she tries to figure out what she wants to do with her life instead. possibly she will become a singer, since she is, as you’ll recall, immensely talented in this department.

How will the Pub Thugs react to reuniting with the Hook Brothers again?

all i know is big nose is going to ask seraphina if she has any mermaid friends she could set him up with and she is going to give him the most withering look on the planet and he’s going to write bad, sad poetry about it for at least a week. also there will be a dance party

Will Varian talk to Quirin about his mother?

my headcanon is that varian is old enough to remember his mother, and that she died when he was perhaps eight or nine. i think after the series quirin would understand that shutting down and refusing to talk about things with varian doesn’t help either of them so they will be able to have normal conversations about her sometimes.

Will Varian have his own adventure?

in all honesty i don’t think about post-series varian all that much outside of the canonical royal engineer thing so instead i’m going to talk about bitter snow varian and say that: yes, he gets a hell of a lot more adventure than he ever bargained for. 

Does Varian have a room in the Castle now? Or does he stay in Old Corona?

i mean he’s like sixteen i assume he’s still living with his dad for at least a couple more years. he’s more urban than quirin is so when he comes of age i think he’ll eventually get himself a nice little flat in corona somewhere. 

Will Faith stay as Rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting? If so, will they be close friends?

i think in once a handmaiden faith booked herself passage on the next carriage to koto and is living her best life there. it’s what she deserves

Will Nigel ever reunite with a dragon again?

[gets on my soapbox] nigel’s story is a cautionary tale about the perils of taking wild animals out of the wild and attempting to keep them as pets and having seen firsthand the dangers of doing so nigel is never going to make the same mistake again. however, he learns to appreciate them as they are, in their natural habitat, living as they please, and will one day found a dragonspotting club. [/gets off my soapbox]

Will Eugene ever talk to Edmund about his mother?

yes and edmund will tell eugene like nine million stories about her and show him the letters she wrote for their son on her deathbed and eugene will realize that he actually has more in common, personality-wise, with his mom than his dad and will end up feeling very close to her even though he never got the chance to know her. 

Is Lance still smitten over Adira?

nah not really, though he still admires her very much and i think they end up having a decent friendship. they’re foodie buddies and whenever she passes through corona she teaches the girls survival skills or practices fighting techniques with them.

Did Max and Pascal rescue the wedding cake?

probably

Will Varian and Cassandra keep in touch?

i think she’ll keep in touch with him as much as she keeps in touch with any of team corona, really. they’re friends but not especially close, yknow?

Who will Cass run into on her adventures?

like i said in one of the other asks i think she passes through ingvarr at some point and maybe bumps into the princesses there. i definitely think she encounters caine and stalyan at least a couple times in contexts that range from adversarial to reluctant allies. the idea of her passing through vardaros and helping quaid and vex out with some mystery is kind of fun. 

Will Cass become a famous adventurer or live elusively?

cass is going to fall into the sam vimes camp of her reputation preceding her completely by accident

Who will be at Rapunzel and Eugene’s child(ren)’s christening(s)?

i assume, like, all the important people. fred and arianna and edmund, lance, varian, cass if she’s around. plus they’re royalty so like, a lot of noble types and diplomats and whatnot. 

What will Rapunzel and Eugene name their children?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Who from their adventures will Rapunzel and Eugene visit? The Lorbs? Calliope? King Trevor? Vex and Quaid?

i think there will be occasional trips to the dark kingdom via hot air balloon and they’ll probably check in on vardaros from time to time. can’t see them visiting calliope unless they absolutely have to. diplomatic visits with equis are... probably unavoidable, but filled with Regret. i think the lorbs would probably be happier if the crazy fleinfloofers didn’t keep coming back to the island to trigger horb the lorb’s various failed magical cures for depression, all things considered.

Will Rapunzel make amends with Lady Caine? Will she pardon her father and let him reunite with Lady Caine?

i think caine’s dad is dead. and i think rapunzel would try to make amends, but caine is in the category of... things can’t always be made better? her father was taken from her in a horribly traumatizing way and then in all likelihood either executed (remember that corona canonically hangs thieves) or died on a prison barge years ago, and there’s nothing rapunzel can realistically do to make that better. sometimes an apology isn’t enough, you know? i think she could provide caine with some closure by helping her find out exactly what happened to him, but caine would never harbor any positive feelings for corona or for rapunzel.

Will Cassandra settle in Corona, abroad, or remain indefinitely itinerant?

i think she’ll eventually settle down but i also see her as developing a real love for travel and continuing to do it frequently even after she finds her home base, so to speak. i also tend to lean on the side of she comes back to corona to visit but doesn’t have enough positive connections to the place to ever feel completely at home there. 

Will Madame Canardist ever learn of Vigor’s origins?

madame canardist is a racist romani caricature and i don’t like thinking about her if i can possibly help it. it leaves a very bad taste in my mouth.

Will Varian rebuild any of Demanitus’ work?

dunno, maybe? varian is a demanitus fanboy for sure and if he encountered a demanitus blueprint for a machine that he could put to good use i think he’d absolutely build it at the first opportunity. i can see him rebuilding the weather device just in case zhan tiri’s blizzard were to reoccur, for example. but also, a lot of demanitus’s inventions were pretty dangerous (see: the portal to the lost realm, the body-switching ray) and varian as of season three has learned his lesson about doing Reckless Science so i think he would approach with a certain amount of caution.

Will Cass be nervous when meeting her New Dream nieces and nephews?

...a bit? maybe? i guess? prior to this i spent literally 0 braincells thinking about new dream children so i dunno. i’m not a kid person and i rarely if ever speculate about non-canonical children of fictional couples. she’d be the fun adventuring family friend i suppose.

[magicianapprenticelyra]

Q: ✨ If your OC were a deity of some kind, what would they represent? What do they look like? How are they worshiped and what offerings would they expect? What are their places of worship like? Their followers? Their teachings?

@vesuvianoak sent in this ask, and then helped that ask helped to get the ball rolling on the following.

Lyra, as a Goddess, would be known with the following epithets:

The Great Librarian; The Patron Goddess of Literature and Folktales; Our Weeping Lady of Ink; Patroness of Crossroads, Storytellers and Difficult Paths; The Ink Lobber; Guardian of Written Works; Exalter of Spoken Words; The Humble Archivist of the Muses

Traditional Warning/Cautionary Rhyme: "Be aware of the Great Librarian's tastes, for if you should violate them and are a writer there is no other curse so great.”

What she represents: Think of her as the librarian of the pantheon she’s situated in. Most myths are claimed to have been recorded by her, and then sent down into the minds of her oracles and/or great storytellers elsewhere. Differing retellings of all the myths, tales and legends are an often occurrence. No one story is a wrong story in the public; it just depends on the tastes of the region and the times they crop up in.

Depictions: With her statues, Lyra is dressed elegantly in either áo dài-like attire, or the region’s simpler day-to-day attire.

Her statues would be carved from obsidian, having silver plating or having silver-esque paint over and/or around her eye(lid)s. Her eyes themselves are either opened or closed, depending on what the artists are depicting her doing. In one of her hands is a stack of parchment, with lines of text. In her other hand is a book or a sort of writing tool [be it a stick of charcoal, a pen, or an inkwell with a feathered quill coming out of it]

Her motifs in more tragic tales typically show her face dripping silver ink and/or paint coming from her eyes or from the bottom of her eyelids. 

How She’s Paid Respects: In each region there is only one ‘big’ temple dedicated to her. All the regions argue where which of their locations came first, but somehow all the buildings were erected at about the same time.

If a place of worship is not within those temples, if depicting her in statuette form, they can be no bigger than the standard size of a person. Any massive monuments dedicated to her, outside of the one temple dedicated to her in each region, have always come across bad luck. Examples include walls shattering to pieces in the initial stages of construction, the land intended for use eventually becoming unsuitable to place a foundation on, ink on construction plans becoming illegible or the charcoal getting smeared, and so on.

Have you ever seen the Little Libraries people make? It’s like a birdhouse for books on their front lawns or in front of several different locations? A take a book, leave a book situation? That can be a little altar or a way to pay tribute to her. She is big on literacy (especially in modern times), after all.

Rule of thumb: she prefers small monuments, or a small place on people’s personal altars. Mini statuettes of her are popular among literary students to have on their desks as they write.

Types of Offerings: They can be dollops of ink on some parchment {so long as said parchment isn’t too ratty/been previously scribbled on before, it is fine}, personally decorated bookmarks, stamps… basically most stationary artfully created in her honor is enough of a tribute. Several of the temples dedicated to her have a whole floor dedicated to displaying all sorts of offerings.

If you're feeling truly brave, slip some book suggestions into a ceremonial pyre in her honor. If she really likes the suggestion, one will be blessed with either literary creativity or you may stumble upon a tale/book/story that will stick with you for the rest of your life. If she doesn't but is thankful for the suggestion, a book or a spoken tale will nudge you to another story within your preferred genre(s). If she is displeased, all your ink will get everywhere you don’t want it to be. How bad the ink will stain varies, as well as how long.

[Someone sent her something of a poor draft of an extremely graphic erotica once. The offerer was cursed for about a year with ink stains on EVERYTHING and EVERYWHERE INCONVENIENT.]

Basically, don't send her porn. Don't make any art of her in the erotic lenses either.

Additionally, if any attempts are made to do so with the myths she is said to have had relationships with people and/or celestial entities it'll disappear eventually in some way, somehow.

Offerings by children are always accepted. Seriously, if there is such a thing as a refrigerator on the celestial planes, she's got oodles of doors full of all the drawings kids have done for her.

Her Followers: Lyra is one of the few among the pantheon she is a part of that isn’t exactly an organized religion [I am not so sure about how religions focused on a deity within a pantheon works overall, but she’s more of a celestial entity than an actual religious figure(?)]. Still, at each temple, there is a Head Oracle that orates many of her stories. Their subordinates are typically librarians-in training or are experts in various literary genres within the region. They don't have to be explicit followers of her, but having the love of stories, treasuring them, and keeping them safe is just a few of the mandates in paying her due respect.

What Angers Her/What Manifests in Her Rage On the Physical Plane

Book burnings are what incite her wrath the most; seriously don't do it unless you really want her to make an appearance with divine fury. Any ink in the vicinity becomes more acrid and chemical and will come to a dangerous boil. The boiling ink eventually gives way to exploding and doing some serious damage to people.

One written record of an organizer orchestrating a book burning years ago states that they gained boils not long after committing the heinous act. The pus that was embedded under their skin somehow also contained hardened, sharp flecks of ink mixed in as well. They died a painful death from the infections.

Do not disrespect a book. Even if you heavily disagree with the contents within the book itself, do not disrespect it. There have been stories of the books coming to life and chasing the culprit until they apologize to the book in question.

The longest any person got without apologizing to the offended text went across three continents; the book had worn itself out by then. The criminal thought they were safe, until they got paid a visit from the goddess herself in their dreams.

When they woke up they were covered in inky burns roughly in the shape of the base of their inkwell. They had to pay a penance in the nearest temple in her honor for about seven years until the burns went away.

Oddly enough she does not mind if you annotate in books or dog-ear the pages.

This is as much as my brain can handle with this AU at the moment. If you wanna know more, just send some asks! :D

(thank you @fire-fira for the cautionary rhyme in the beginning of the post, @sunrisenfool of the addendum to the epithet after Our Weeping Lady of Ink, and to all the people across a number of discord servers that helped me to put all this together. Thanks so much you guys!)

[dknc3]

Do you think Catelyn meddled in her children's relationship with Jon by teaching them to hate bastards and to think of him as their half brother not their brother?

Hi, Anon,

This got a little long so I put it under the cut to save people who aren’t as interested in Catelyn and Jon as I am the trouble of scrolling past! :-)

I am guessing you are the same anon I just responded to about Sansa never calling Jon her brother because it’s kind of unlikely I’d get two anonymous questions about Catelyn’s impact on her children’s relationship with Jon sent on the same day, but just in case you aren’t, please take a look at the response I just posted to that ask as it addresses this question a bit, too, and I won’t repeat what I put there.

I believe Catelyn wanted her children to understand the difference between Jon’s status and their own because she honestly feared the threat he posed to their inheritance and potentially even their lives. Now, readers know that Jon loves his trueborn siblings dearly and that for all his perfectly understandable jealousy of them, he doesn’t want to take what is theirs. (Well, in the books anyway. I don’t watch the show, but from what I heard D&D basically made all of Catelyn’s fears justified in the show by having the Northmen declare Jon their king and having Jon accept it while Sansa was sitting right beside him. I’m not talking about that Jon. I’m talking about the , “Damn, Stannis, you’re killing me here because I really, really want to be Lord of Winterfell but WINTERFELL BELONGS TO MY SISTER SANSA” that I know from the books.) It can be HARD to empathize with Catelyn’s feelings of fear when we spend time in Jon’s head and know that he’d never challenge Robb or the others for Winterfell. But Catelyn is NOT in Jon’s head. And Westerosi history is full of cautionary tales of bastards who have laid claim to titles/lands/crowns, etc. that belonged to trueborn relatives. (And yes, there are tales of bastards who were very loyal and tremendously helpful to their trueborn siblings, too, I know. But scary history is still scary. Like, I’m sure there might be some honest, moral, intelligent billionaire businessmen out there that want to run for president for all the right reasons and do a good job, but after experiencing the current occupant of the Oval Office, I’m not gonna chance it and vote for any of them!) Catelyn’s desire for her children to be wary of Jon is grounded in her desire to protect them and for them to protect themselves rather than some vicious hatred toward Jon personally.

Catelyn is also personally hurt by Jon’s presence in Winterfell. At first, it was her pride and sense of self-worth as the Lady of Winterfell that was hurt by the fact that her husband chose to keep a bastard in her home with her and her children. Over the years, it was her heart that hurt as well as she came to love Ned and had to grapple with the fact that as much as he loved her, he must have loved Jon’s mother as much or more as nothing would convince him to send the boy away. Catelyn is jealous of Jon’s mother. Not because Ned slept with her and made a baby back when they barely knew each other. No. She wasn’t really bothered by the notion of a husband who was basically stranger at the time meeting his physical needs with some other woman or by him stepping up to the plate by claiming and seeing to the care of a kid that came from it. She’s jealous of Jon’s mother because she loves her husband, and Jon’s presence in Winterfell and his obvious deep affection for him makes her fear that her beloved husband still hold this woman tightly in his heart. I don’t know too many women who are going to feel good about that sort of thing.

So she wants Jon elsewhere. Not dead. Fostered, perhaps. Set up with an apprenticeship. Given a nice life far from Winterfell. She didn’t wish harm on him. That whole “praying for his death and then repenting and swearing she’d have Ned legitimize him and then going back on her word and being convinced she’s the cause of ALL THE BAD because she couldn’t love a motherless child” never happens in the books. Catelyn didn’t encourage Ned to send him to the Wall, either. That option doesn’t seem to have occurred to her until Maester Luwin tells her and Ned that Jon HIMSELF has asked to go there. Now, I freely admit she thinks it’s brilliant once she does hear it as the Wall means no descendants which neatly addresses her biggest problem with Jon–the threat to her children. But the big point here is that her first response to Jon’s existence was that she wanted Ned to have him raised elsewhere. And it’s clear in her POV segments that she expressed this wish more than once. It may sound cruel to our 21st century ears to ask a father to send his own child away, but that was actually what was done with noble bastards in this society by responsible dads. See to their welfare, acknowledge your responsibility for them, and get them away from your family. Ned was the one acting outside the norm in this, not Catelyn.

But he wouldn’t send Jon away. And he insisted on Jon’s inclusion in every aspect of family life that was feasible. Even Ned knew that seating a bastard at the high table with visiting lords or certainly the king was a big NOPE and that Jon had to learn early that Winterfell would never come to him. But he wanted to give Jon safety and a family and he forced Catelyn’s hand. And she obeyed him. She never prevented her children from interacting with him or calling him brother. He ate with her family (yes, folks, that’s canon. It’s only at the formal feasts that his status kept him from eating with his siblings), had lessons with her children, was ALWAYS there. And she could do nothing about it. So she allowed everything Ned insisted upon and not one thing more. She made it clear that he was Ned’s son, not hers. She took no interest in him, did not include him in things she did with the children without Ned, let her children know that Jon was not her child, and did not pretend to them or anyone else that she cared about him. Was that a selfless, loving act on her part. No. Was it more than a touch passive aggressive? Yep. But it isn’t incomprehensible. She had zero agency in a situation she found potentially threatening to herself and her children.She couldn’t defy her husband. So she exercised her right as Ned’s wife and the Lady of Winterfell to not be involved with his bastard. And Ned could not fault her for that. Did she actively teach her children to hate bastards in general? No. She didn’t even actively teach them to hate Jon. She just very visibly did not love him or even like him. She never let herself know him well enough to like him. And that certainly had an impact on her children and Jon. 

Jon, without question, was an innocent child. He did not deserve her disdain or her fear or resentment. He sure as hell didn’t deserve that awful remark she made in the depths of her grief over Bran right before he left for the Wall. Jon suffered emotional pain as a child who couldn’t understand why his siblings’ mother didn’t love him. Catelyn’s children suffered confusion and hurt as well because they loved their brother and their mother and knew those two didn’t love each other. So while I believe that Catelyn abided by Ned’s wishes and did not actively “meddle” in her children’s relationship with Jon, her own feelings about it were clear enough to all of them that each of their relationships with him was impacted to some degree. 

In the end, the entire Ned/Cat/Jon relationship is a painful, complex tangled mess that impacted all of the Starks negatively to some degree regardless of what either Ned or Catelyn wanted or intended–and I believe the primary motivators for the actions or reactions of both of them was the protection of children (Jon for Ned, and the other Starklings for Catelyn) which just makes the entire situation even sadder.

Short answer, Nonnie, is that while I think the evil, meddling Catelyn who constantly attempts to sabotage Jon’s relationships with is siblings is entirely a fandom creation, her feelings toward Jon did impact all the children. In fairness, I think discussing how Catelyn’s relationship (or non-relationship) with Jon impacted all the kids without discussing how Ned’s supposed infidelity/refusal to speak to ANYONE including Jon about his alleged mother/forcibly inserting his “bastard” into the family without regard for his wife impacted all the kids is only looking at a partial picture, but this post is more than long enough.

Cheers!  

[ambiengrey]

Loitering Ch 7

Maybe heed the warnings: summary.

<-previous

attempting bravery

‘But going back again to get his glasses, when he knew the wasps were there, when he was really scared. That was brave.’

― Neil Gaiman, Coraline

A trail of footprints in the snow decorated the driveway in his wake.

Evidence of his approach.

One more reason he could add to the seeming ever-growing list of why leaving now would only serve to make him feel more embarrassed and stupid than actually knocking on the door would.

…So he might as well?

He thought he didn’t particularly want to, but…potentially, that was just the influence of his own…what?

Fear?

Cowardice?

Jason didn’t know which one he wanted it to be; which one would be better.

…He was beginning to wonder if they weren’t inherently the same thing, after all.

If he was too afraid to enter this once sort-of-home from a childhood that seemed to belong to someone else entirely, the more he thought about it; wasn’t that cowardice?

Considering the circumstances? Considering his mental list of reasons for entering – one to dispute every excuse he’d had for not coming, every excuse he was conjuring up now against staying even as he made to knock. All of those reasons sounding much the same, but that somehow only reinforcing their importance, or, their need, rather than shrinking them against the variety of excuses they were meant to dispute.

…

No… Being afraid didn’t necessarily make you a coward.

Jason had never thought of himself as a coward before; had always tried hard to be brave, even and especially when he was, in fact, scared.

Times when his father went out at twilight and came back at dawn with new bruises colouring his skin, lengthy dark hair a new kind of disarray; staggering, drunk, and his breath a pungent stink of mixed drinks that burned Jason’s nostrils as he led his father inside, small hands on the man’s broad back.

Jason had been scared on those days.

Scared for his mother, who locked herself in the bathroom for Jason to find later; passed-out, pale and breathing too shallow, mumbling at him with little coherence.

He tried being brave then, washing her face, singing or humming because it made her smile even if he wasn’t sure she actually heard him right. Somehow, he’d tuck her into bed without crying.

Too much.

He was scared over his dad, too. Scared he wouldn’t come back at dawn. Scared he’d come back drunk. Scared he’d come back sober. Scared he’d come back with friends. Scared he’d come back with enemies.

Jason tried being brave, once he caught on that his dad was leaving, sometimes before sunset, sometimes long after – when Jason was supposed to be sleeping, instead of listening to the sounds of his parents talking, or fighting, or not speaking at all and the only noises to be heard then were the creaks of the apartment, and the ragged breathing of their tiny old dog in Jason’s arms.

Jason tried taking care of the dog; tried taking care of his mom; tried taking care of his dad when he came back; tried taking care of the house. Tried not crying.

Too much.

When his father eventually went to prison, Jason tried harder. He couldn’t always manage not being scared, but he could always try being brave. You could be one without the other. And you could be both.

If nothing else, he’d learned being brave took a lot of guts. Took something that was buried deep down inside, and just needed a purpose to get out. Like doing the right thing.

That was a purpose – a good purpose. That was brave, even when you were scared.

As Jason had gotten older he’d learned, and believed, that doing the wrong thing when you had the opportunity to do the right one, despite hurting yourself, or someone you loved – making that choice, picking the wrong road because it was easier to travel, more convenient not to care—was cowardice.

Jason knew all about that by now.

He’d been on the receiving end of those consequences for what felt like most of his life – both of them.

His father had been a thief and a gambler and a drunken bastard-liar who cared too much about the money, or the score, or the job, and the street-cred than either his wife or his son.

His mother…had been too caught up in herself, too dependent on her addictions to care for her son, or care about what her husband was doing.

Taking care of her had taught Jason how to take care of himself even as it had hurt.

…Under his skin.

…

On the inside.

Because, for all the pain she’d caused him, and all the ways she’d let him down, he loved her inexplicably, without hesitation.

…

Perhaps because, when she hadn’t been incomprehensible, wide-eyed, pale and scaring him half to death, unmoving, grinning childishly – high – she’d been…been his mother.

Wrapped her arms about his thin shoulders and pressed him close. Smiled beside his ear and said his name.

“Jason.

“Come here, let me hug you—!”

“Mooooom—” before she planted a peck on his cheek and laughed, wandering off when he made to swat her away with one hand. She’d come back with cookies, or a sandwich, or juice, or water, or another hug, and helped him with his homework. While he’d still had homework.

Jason had no memories like those of his father.

They’d done things together, sure. Maybe when he was very little they’d done father-son stuff. Whatever that might have entailed. Maybe he’d just been too little to remember.

He’d learned from his father’s mistakes long ago, and had built up his own unique skill-set from the man’s teachings and successes, which were the only memories of his father Jason had, excluding the more vivid bad ones.

His father had never been more than a frame of reference, and a thorn in young Jason’s side, and a demon in his head, and a haunting visage of what his future had the potential of being.

Jason had taught himself to heed that image earnestly, and steer as far clear of that path as he possibly could.

His father’s was a cautionary tale Jason carried with him, but had no love for and did not dwell on. Instead there was a different figure that had become more prominent in Jason’s life – in both of them – than his real – in the biological sense – father had ever been.

The same way his mother had been.

A man for looking up to and aspiring to be like. Whose back seemed even broader than his real father’s had been where Jason’s hands would rest, leading another body forward – after a late, gruelling patrol, Batman limping and stumbling forward even as Jason – as Robin – tried keeping him upright until they got to the cave’s Med Bay where Alfred could stitch the older vigilante up.

Bruce Wayne would pull back his cowl and smile at Jason, and Jason could still feel the stretch of his skin from when his face would split into a returned grin, whenever he thought about that. Because when Bruce had left the house in the middle of the night, he was tracking down the thieves and lackeys and drug-dealers that were making the lives of kids like Jason hell, and locking them up where they couldn’t hurt themselves or their families, or other innocent people’s families, anymore. He was Batman, and Jason had admired and respected that – as much as he admired and respected…and loved the man beneath the cowl.

He had vague recollections of one large, affectionate hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing.

“Good work, Jason.”

Of training, and late nights, talking, and watching movies and—

Jason shook his head fervently, dragged his fingers through his hair and rested his forehead against the cool wooden door.

He was scared.

But he couldn’t be a coward.

He needed to be brave, like he’d been when he was a kid – when his mom needed him, when his dad needed him. When Batman needed him.

He needed to be braver than Catherine Todd who couldn’t overcome her drug-addiction to take care of her son. Braver than Willis Todd who couldn’t get off his lazy ass and find a real job instead of going for easy money.

…Braver than Bruce Wayne. Batman. Who couldn’t – wouldn’t – sacrifice a little of himself to get justice for the boy he called his partner, his soldier. His…son. Maybe.

…

The way Bruce had been, before he’d died… his…father.

If only that wasn’t also the reason why he was so damn terrified.

The fact of the matter was, Bruce supposedly dying the first time had shook and angered Jason to the point of lashing out in the only, ridiculously childish manner he’d known, still openly clinging to things and flaunting beliefs he’d privately accepted his once-father and the man’s legacy would never agree with and were never meant to portray.

Coming back from the dead, confronting Bats about not killing the Joker in the wake of Jason’s murder, had left him with a searing sadness inside and a grudging increase of respect for the man whose partner he’d been.

Because for all that Bruce hadn’t done the right thing, hadn’t killed the Joker – for justice, for Jason, for all the innocent people he would hurt in the future (Barbara; Timmy…) – he hadn’t done it lightly.

It had been a hard choice for him.

He hadn’t picked a cowardly, easy way out even if Jason had thought so at first, and been disappointed in his father-figure.

Facing Bruce in that old, dilapidated apartment, Joker trussed up to a rickety chair and a bouquet of explosives ticking away at their feet—

Jason had spent weeks after the explosion, languidly recovering, while he tried figuring out how much of what Bruce had said the night of his return was real.

The man had never shown as much emotion wearing the cowl as he had that night, not even in the safety of his own cave – and in front of the Joker no less.

But Jason hadn’t been sure if it had been real, or a ploy to placate him. To diffuse the situation and take him down.

Had he been lying when he’d confessed to considering killing the clown practically every day after Jason’s death? Lying when he’d said it was too hard a choice to make, and the wrong one besides, because he – Bruce – had to sacrifice that desire; that need to kill the Joker for his son – because Gotham needed a Batman with boundaries.

A Batman who couldn’t lose control that way. He had to stay within the perimeters he’d set for himself; that the city had set for him. To be an example. To stay above the murderers and criminals he was meant to put away, and not become one himself, no matter how badly he wanted to.

…

That was brave…

…

…?

Jason could, however grudgingly, live with it, he’d decided eventually.

He could live with that even as some part of him wasn’t able to quell the flush of anger – or the stinging, bitter hurt – colouring his insides whenever he thought about it, or came across Bruce or his brood on patrols.

Nightwing – Dick – who’d stared and grinned, and maybe even cried a little seeing Jason for the first time, even though Jason had tried forcing his father to shoot another man and then blew them all up as a peak in the performance.

Robin, Red Robin – Tim. Tim who was just a kid. As if throwing Jason’s memory away, calling him a failure and a mistake as if he had been some botched experiment, and then discarding him as a bad Robin and a villain when he’d come back (broken…broken?), wasn’t enough, Bats had replaced him with a(nother) kid. Coming back from the dead, after dying at fifteen, Jason had learned several things from both experiences: kids weren’t meant to be sidekicks, psychopaths didn’t deserve to live, and, the next time he bit the bullet, he was being cremated.

Beating Tim to a bloody pulp wasn’t enough of a warning for Bruce though, because the kid stayed Robin, and after Bruce’s supposed death, Dickiebird in all his self-righteous glory, had passed on the mantel to Bruce’s biological little brat – Damian Wayne. He needed an outlet, was the sloppy excuse, and if Jason had thought it would make any kind of difference he’d have done more to argue the point – but then, he’d concluded at last, what did it matter; he wasn’t family anymore.

Besides which, a little more time finally taught them that lesson while Jason had still mostly been struggling with Bruce’s miraculous return from his time-traveling odyssey, anyway.

Not dead then, after all.

Nothing much had changed between them, either. Jason was still Bruce’s biggest mistake, and, spitefully, painfully, Jason was still the thorn in his “old man’s” side.

…

Jason had never said “I told you so” even though he’d felt the words scratching at the back of his throat several times. Because Jason knew what it felt like.

Losing family.

He’d lost Bruce…more than once. Been lost, and been abandoned, more than once.

He felt that loss – keenly – whenever their paths crossed.

But he could hardly admit it when nothing had changed for Bruce. He was still dead. He would always be fifteen year old Jason Todd, status deceased.

It took losing another Robin for Dick to attempt crossing the bridge and inviting him back over, but…even though Jason had made uneasy peace with Bruce’s inability to avenge any of them, apparently, he could never admit as much to the man’s face – not even after his regret when he’d believed Bruce to be dead – and neither was Bruce about to welcome him back with open arms no matter what Dick wanted to believe.

The best they could do was co-exist relatively peacefully – Bats and his brood on one side of the city, and Jason, discarded and secretly still damaged, ruling the other side.

He still didn’t know what the hell had possessed him, to cross that carefully, tentatively placed line, and march right up to the Bat’s damn house like it partially belonged to him; more or less eight months ago now.

Perhaps Damian’s last request had finally begun to influence him. Perhaps it had been the weather. The season. The date. Perhaps he’d simply been lost…adrift without direction. Which better way to go than home…?

Jason’s heart ached at the thought.

He opened his eyes, not knowing when they’d closed, and stared at the wooden door.

This wasn’t home. It had been, once, but he had no right to it any longer.

He hadn’t been brave enough to fight for it. He hadn’t been strong enough to forgive his sort-of-father, couldn’t give up his own beliefs and forget. Couldn’t go back to following the Bat’s rules – and would it really have been such a bad choice? It would have been easy…

Cowardly?

Really?

Locking up Gotham’s scumbags rather than sending them straight to the hell they deserved, if it gave him what he wanted?

If it allowed him home?

…Yes.

Fuckit, yes. Always yes.

Because his way had been the right way. The right way for him, for Gotham, and he couldn’t live with himself if he just let so many murderous, drug-peddling bastards rot in jail for a little bit only to come back out and wreak a hell of a revenge on new innocent people just because Jason craved his family back.

There were other people who deserved families more than he did.

He’d always known that.

So why he’d come looking for his old one that day he couldn’t begin to fathom.

And it scared him.

It had scared him ending up here with no purpose. And now it scared him because he was here with reason for a change.

Moreover, he’d been…well, he’d bloody well been invited. Fucking summoned, in fact.

Because…because it was different this time.

The old man was really…dying this time.

His…his father was—

Jason had to suck in a breath and turn his back on the door, clenching a fist against his forehead, eyes shut again, unable to finish the thought.

He breathed, deep, through his nose, and let it out in a huff, eyes opening to the snow-covered grounds, hands settling on his hips, a rigid tenseness in his shoulders. He rolled them back and forth uneasily, rubbed at the back of his neck with cold fingers – he’d put his gloves somewhere he couldn’t remember, which was stupid, but—

Not important.

…

Jason took another breath, letting it out slowly this time, as his gaze roamed across the snow, the footsteps he’d left – a solitary trail, pausing to backtrack at irregular intervals, before turning around again and again, and again, to create a dizzying mirage of stomping, trudging, sauntering feet belonging to more than one person, all of them crowding together and moving this way and that without anyone moving back and only one making it forwards.

Jason swallowed.

There was no more going back.

He was already here and he needed to do this. Selfishly, he wanted to – because this wouldn’t be for anyone other –well, mostly – than him.

He needed to be brave for himself, to be honest for a change – with Bruce, with himself, with the dead fifteen year old kid that didn’t exist anymore and wasn’t important no matter how much he’d thought he was or wanted to be.

There wouldn’t be another chance to settled this; once and for all.

Jason spun, boots sliding around and clearing a patch of snow from the porch, leaving white slush in a heap.

It was Cassandra who opened the door when he knocked – finally – almost at once, and Jason wondered if she’d been standing on the other side just waiting for him to pluck up the courage.

He swallowed again, throat unexpectedly dry, palms sweaty despite his cold, numb fingers.

She peered up at him, brown eyes squinting, and Jason would have opened his mouth to snap at her to stop it if he’d had any fire left in his gut, but…everything was cold and unfeeling at the thought of what he meant to do. As if he’d quite suddenly shut right down inside, like that would make it easier – not thinking about it, not feeling anything.

Lips thinning as she regarded him, her eyes darting this way and that between his own had Jason shifting his weight, unable to contain all of his discomfort – she was reading him, he knew that. Like a damn book, and he didn’t like it – until finally she shook her head, quickly, averted her gaze and stepped back, pulling the door further open as she went.

She was wearing a faded brown sweater at least three sizes too big for her small frame, the sleeve bundled up in the palm of her hand, held out for him in invitation.

Jason bit at his lip, staring at the clear entryway into the gloomy foyer with a bout of apprehension chewing away too quickly at his calm disassociation.

He was anxious and scared all over again.

He hadn’t set foot in the manor since before he’d died.

He hadn’t expected, in that damned warehouse, feeling all alone even as his biological mother stood not two feet away, to ever set foot in the manor again.

And then, much later still, he hadn’t thought he ever wanted to again.

That part of his life was over. That Jason was gone.

He didn’t want to—

He couldn’t—

Swallowing reflexively, for the third time in as many minutes, Jason made to move – forward, for goodness’ sake, but—

There was an itch in his throat, and a hitch in his breath, and his fingers were twitching and—

He thought he could feel every tic of his muscles, every blood-pumping beat of his heart, the expansion and contraction of his lungs as he breathed, and every pause between—

His lips were trembling—

A little sway, a stutter, to his shoulders, his knees, when he meant to step forward, but didn’t—

And then all the air in his lungs came out in a rush, shoulders slumping, his body just falling forward of its own accord as he bent over, one palm hitting the still-closed door on his right and the other making a smacking sound that seemed to echo in his ears as he hit his forehead.

I can’t—stuck somewhere in his head or halted on the tip of his tongue, or maybe he had said it after all, he didn’t know—

He clutched at his hair, yanked a little, and bit into his lip, and shut his eyes tight until all of it just hurt, before he could breathe again and straighten up.

It hadn’t occurred to him until he’d opened his eyes and found the entryway right in front of him still empty, how awful it would have been if someone had, in the meantime, entered the room.

The clench in his chest eased at the knowledge that no one had.

There was still Cassandra, of course, half-hidden behind the door as she’d been the very first time he’d seen her, her inviting gesture dropped and her gaze, he was embarrassingly thankful to see, on the wooden tiles at her feet.

Jason was just contemplating what he could possibly use to back-up a threat accompanied by “don’t tell anyone I was here,” and then sprint off, when she looked up – sharply, and narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly at him before she’d moved—

Out from behind the door, her sleeve-clad fingers grasping firmly around his wrist, forcing him forward as she pulled—

Jason pulled back – a quick, angry flick of his wrist, and, almost instinctively, unintentionally – habitually – he tapped into that trickle of seemingly ever-present anger, letting it spur him ahead, acting with it as his driving force – like he always seemed to do; like he’d always seemed to do—

“Let go, I don’t need your damn help—”

He’d tracked snow across Alfred’s immaculately polished floor with a jerky pause at the door, a scowl at Cassandra, another deep breath, and a determined set to his jaw as he finally crossed the threshold – only to halt, several steps into the dimly lit foyer, with a shuddering breath at the realization of what he’d done.

He rounded on Cassandra, furious, and scowled at her, blunt nails digging into the skin of his palms—

She was only just not grinning at him, the smug expression hovering at the edge of her features even as there lingered a hint of sympathy in her dark eyes. It only turned Jason’s scowl deeper, and he looked pointedly away, but couldn’t do much more than that – sound stuck in his throat, unable to escape and form words or sentences, and his limbs felt stiff and weighted, disabling movement.

He was stuck. Stuck in the foyer of a house he’d once called home, that had felt more home than any place had been before or after, for longer than any other place had ever felt.

And he remembered – trudging down the staircase, wrist trailing along the banister, and not a trace of dust on the end of his sleeve when he checked at the bottom.

When he’d only just arrived, Alfred would find him at the foot of the steps and greet him with a formal nod, and Jason – what had he been; twelve? – short, scrawny-ass kid, nervous as all hell and chewing at the inside of his cheek till it bled, would sort of nod back and almost smile, and try really, really hard not to cry like a damn baby because it had been several weeks already since he found his mom, pale in a different way than the usual, not breathing – taking him all of three minutes to realise she was dead, and five more before he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and fifteen more before he trailed off, no longer whispering at her to come back, dammit, don’t leave me, but she was – not coming back, and he wasn’t a baby anymore, and he couldn’t still be crying over her. Especially not in front of strangers.

Only, things had been so new and unfamiliar, and strange, and he missed her more because of it, and he felt guilty as sin, because things were better for him now – better than she’d ever managed to make it, better than his dad had ever tried to have it – and if he’d known, if he’d known, trying to jack the Bat’s wheels was all it would take to make things better he’d have done it a long time ago instead of trying to stay good and straight for his mom—

Jason blinked. And couldn’t breathe.

Alfred would lead him into the kitchen just around the stairs, through a doorway down the hall, into a pristine white palace Jason didn’t want to touch for fear of leaving smudges even though he knew, in the back of his mind, his hands were clean. He had decent baths nowadays—

Jason sucked in a heady breath of air—

Alfred would present him with freshly-prepared meals, enough to ignite his taste buds with unique and never-tasted-before flavours, and leaving him with the supposed certain promise of more to come when next his tummy rumbled.

Jason would smile gratefully, but watch the food with a trickle of apprehension before digging in, chewing around the guilt that came inexplicably with having food and a table to sit at when he’d been digging through dumpsters not a week ago, because he was still hungry, and barely a week from now he might yet find himself in front of that very same dumpster again.

Stretching his healing chest almost painfully—

So he ate everything presented no matter what kind of delicious or faintly atrocious taste it may have left in his mouth, from the medium-rare meat and steamed vegetables to Alfred’s neatly squared waffles, pasty as they tasted.

Jason remembered; eventually, when he went back to school, and got back into reading – how excited he was when Bruce came back from Wayne Enterprises one evening, presenting him with a book he could keep, for himself. In the foyer they’d been.

Right around where he was standing now—

And Alfred’s fine cuisine had extended from formal recipe books to fictional meals conjured up as if by magic with his old capable hands, like they had drawn the plates straight from the stories. On any and every day Alfred could manage it.

He couldn’t—

Have any of it back—

Remember it—

Eventually, Jason was only just not bounding down the staircase, long since not bothered by what unfathomable means Alfred was using to keep the place immaculate – because he had in fact picked up a few of them himself at this point – eager to see what meal the butler had pulled off the pages this morning—

The thought struck him without warning, catching his breath in his throat – chicken.

Alfred had fed him chicken for breakfast on his last day in the manor.

“‘Bet they don’t have chicken for breakfast at the White House’,” he’d quoted jokily, guessing as he did every morning what book his meal had come from – Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. Alfred had smiled, which he did more often than Jason thought – now – they ever gave him credit for.

He’d washed his dishes and gone down to the cave after that meal. And he’d trained, and he’d studied.

Jason remembered the way he’d studied when he was a kid – Batman’s formulas and chemicals and solutions, case files, and theoretical manoeuvres he needed to know the make-up of before he could even think about trying it in training. Jason had tried hard to impress, to always improve; to live up to the image of Robin Golden Boy Dick Grayson had left behind, but in the – three? – years he’d lived in this house, Jason wasn’t sure he ever had.

He’d thought he had, somewhere in the middle—

Somewhere around the time he could curl up on one of the wide window-sills in B’s office to read, and recite all the facts around their current case at once if prompted without missing a beat in his reading, and looking up only to catch the slightest wisp of a sly smile on his father’s – mentor’s – lips.

Around the time Dick would come by, and take the blame as instigator for their races down the railings, and he’d smile like a goofy moron when Jason did a successful flip off the highest beam, landing in a perfect roll, before he’d ruffle Jason’s hair and say something stupid like “Nice,” and calling him “Little Wing,” making Jason wonder for a moment why the hell he even disliked the guy in the first place—

Until he’d get caught in a bad argument with Bruce before the end of the day again, and Jason would be vaguely reminded of his parents, in a comparison where Dick had turned into his father and Bruce was his mother and things were just better when Dick went back to Blüdhaven—

And Jason could pick up that slack Dick had left – as Bruce’s son, if that’s what he’d really been – and Robin, because Jason was Robin now, and he was Bruce’s son now. He tried.

He had.

—

—

Jason couldn’t breathe.

His chest heaved anxiously up and down as he sucked in air he could somehow not feel breathing in, even as he knew his lungs were being filled—

“Good work, Jason.”

That was—

There were too many memories here, and for years he’d had no reason to look back on them – that Jason was gone, that Jason was dead, he didn’t want—

He couldn’t—have any of it back—

Live in that past; there was no future there—

Here—

He had to—

He couldn’t—

He’d—been kidding himself that he could—

He’d—

He’d rounded his back on the foyer and half-run, half-stumbled past Cassandra and whatever expression her face wore, whatever she thought she saw in him now, and shuffled through the snow, tripped down the porch’s steps to land, hard, on his knees, bloodless naked fingers sinking into wet snow as he bent forward, gasping for air—

“I can’t breathe—” he mumbled. “Can’t breathe, I can’t—

“I can’t breathe—

“I can’t breathe—” even as he swallowed big gulps of air.

“I can’t breathe,” he drew his head down to his knees, pulled his arms, his freezing hands, in closer.

“I can’t breathe…”

He could feel the frown across his forehead.

Saw darkness he couldn’t recall invoking.

“…You breathe…fine,” Cassandra’s voice was soft, to his right, and her hand gentle on his back.

Jason shook his head, though at what he didn’t know. He was breathing fine, the row of immaculate stitching across his chest stretching with every rise and fall evidence thereof despite the hammering heart in his chest feeling like the only thing inside doing any work to keep him alive.

Too alive.

It was cold outside, in the air, and around his fingers, and through his soaking knees in the snow. And the light outside was only marginally better than it had been inside. And the breeze ghosted past him – them – touching only quickly.

Cassandra was rubbing circles across his back and Jason wondered if Dick had taught her that, or…had her assassin-father been affectionate?

Jason opened his eyes.

“Stop that,” he mumbled, if only half-heartedly, as he shrugged his shoulder and got languidly to his feet; Cassandra coming nimbly to her own, hand retreated without comment.

Jason ran his fingers through his hair, eyed her beyond the view of his raised arm. She was watching him, the way she watched everyone, he could only assume, and he knew he was already thinking it, planning on doing it, and so she must already have seen it – read it on him the way she could read everyone. It was vexing, and made him feel incredibly vulnerable, the way she needed no more than a look to know what he meant to do, when, for years, he’d trained so hard to mask his intentions.

Since there was no point with her, though, and no way of pretending he didn’t know what he wanted to do now, he might as well just go ahead with it.

“Don’t follow me,” Jason said, much more intently than he might have before, as he dropped his hand and started off, pointedly not meeting her eyes and finding himself surprised when she didn’t immediately try to stop him. With his back fully to her, he rubbed his palms over aching, freezing fingers in an attempt to warm them some, before sticking his hands in his jacket pockets – all the while keeping an ear out for following footfalls, feeling an itch between his shoulder blades that must have been Cassandra’s stare. But apparently that’s as much as she did.

He assumed.

Right up to his sixth or seventh pace away, when a wet white mass landed with a hard smack against the back of his neck—

Jason yelped, and hissed, as the cold started slinking down the back of his shirt almost at once. He’d already stopped walking, arching his back at the invasive coolness of ice on his skin, tugging at the back of his shirt to force it to the ground quicker.

“What—” he started, “—the hell?” as he turned about, meaning to fix the girl with as intense a glare as he could conjure, only to be interrupted with another flurry of frost hurtled his way. Jason only just managed raising his arm in time to stop the projectile from colliding with his face.

“Would you quit throwing me with snow?!” he snapped, lowering his arm only slightly in case she had every intention of hitting him again.

But Cassandra, shorter though she was, stood several paces away, drawn up to her full height, shoulders squared and looking every inch the fear-inducing Black Bat of Gotham’s dark streets, even in her too-big sweater with its rolled-up sleeves slipping down her arms.

Jason swallowed, and dropped his arm carefully, finding himself on the receiving end of the glare he’d never quite gotten to mastering.

He scowled back, and might have said something if not for the need to protect his face again, Cassandra hurtling the snowball in her hand at him.

“Come—” she said, loud even though her voice sounded small, and like it could never possess so much volume.

“In—”

“Hey—” Jason moved closer, batting at a second – or, fourth – snowball with his arm.

“—side!” Cassandra snapped, and Jason ducked beneath her next assault. Gathering as much snow as he could, as tightly as he could, in both hands, he threw it almost aimlessly at her as he came erect, missing, of course, when Cassandra dodged effortlessly.

“Are you freaking kidding me?!” he exclaimed, frustrated, and angry all over again, “Did you not see that?!” he asked, gesturing at the door behind her with one embarrassingly trembling hand.

He held it there, hovering mid-air.

Cassandra already had two more snowballs clenched in each hand, but he’d apparently gotten her attention enough she didn’t feel the need to pelt him with them – yet, at least.

“...I can’t,” Jason started, slowly, into the stretching silence between them, “Go back in there.”

Cassandra’s lips thinned in response, her fingers twitching tighter into the snow.

Jason threw his hands up, exasperated, “Seriously! I don’t know why, okay? But that damn house—” he pointed a set of fingers at it sharply, “And—”

It was all the memories. All of them just rushing back to him at once, and he couldn’t will them away like he’d been doing for years, trying to put little now-dead Jason Todd to rest and leave him buried. He’d managed, because he’d left Jason inside that house, and going back in again would only wake him up further. It wasn’t fair.

“I just can’t!” he said at last, almost pleading and not knowing why he was pleading at her. Until a couple months ago he’d never even seen Cassandra Cain face to face. They’d spoken all of once, before, and part of Jason seethed at having to apparently explain himself to anyone at all.

The larger part of him, though, felt rotten, and guilty, and needed to make its case, and—

He’d come with reason, and intention – he’d been asked to come, and he’d said he would, and he’d meant to keep that commitment. He’d meant to be brave. He’d meant to try.

But, entering the house had left him more afraid than he’d been before he’d set foot inside, when the only fear he’d had was never seeing his once-father again and telling him—

Whatever the hell Jason decided on once he got there.

Jason hadn’t expected it would be so hard to come through the door of his destination, however – hadn’t expected to be bombarded with a hoard of happy memories he’d thought he’d buried next to dying.

And now he was intent on breaking his promise because he couldn’t manage to deal with his past.

Perhaps if he’d had more unpleasant experiences in the manor it would have been easier to shrug it off, be dismissive of the entire building, regard it with a cool aloofness and flip it off when he went away – his spat, or heart-to-heart, or whatever the hell it would have been, with the old man settled and done.

But the manor had been his home. And entering it now reminded him of that home. Of what it had meant, and—

And could it still…?

Dick always being so adamant that he was family.

Alfred had said the same thing. Replacement had damn well invited him inside months ago.

…

Cassandra had commanded just a moment earlier.

Damian had tried to make him promise—

“I can’t,” Jason breathed, shaking his head, defeated. He dragged a hand across his face, frowning at the whiteness around his boots. Footsteps still lay haphazardly in the snow, from when he’d arrived; turning as if to go back, only to decide at last there was no more going back.

Only, he’d been wrong. It seemed there was no more going forward.

He was just here, now.

…

Gotham needed someone cruel to keep her in line. Jason was the only one who could be that and not lose his head over it, too. He kept other families safe, the way he always had in red, and green, and yellow – he couldn’t have his own, too. Not when they didn’t want him as he was, anyway.

Neither of them deserved that mess.

…

…

Silence, so long he thought maybe Cassandra had left him alone, until a fistful’s worth of snow hit him in the leg.

Jason sighed.

“Will you stop throwing shit at me?” he snarled, looking up sharply – and recoiling instantly when another handful hit him in the chest, “Cassandra—”

Presumably relieved of all her ammo, sweater-sleeves hiding her hands again, Cassandra stood thin-lipped, and frowning, her shoulders slumped—

“This is…your fault,” she said, carefully, slowly, but…firmly.

Jason stared. “Like hell it is,” he breathed, fingers curling into fists.

“You do this!” Cassandra continued, though, almost not giving him chance to finish and cutting off whatever else Jason might have tried to say. “Our family,” she went on, haltingly, swinging one hand half behind her, indicating the manor, “Is…broken. All it wants, is—you—everyone—here, and – but—” she shook her head, shoulders hunching, shifting her weight from one foot to another, “You want—” she squinted, and frowned, and shook her head, “I don’t, I can’t…see – you don’t, know, either, I—” she had her hands up in front of her, fingers peeking out of the sleeves, reaching and clenching like she meant to grab hold of the words she was looking for in her palms.

“You could – I don’t—fix, it?”

Jason shook his head slightly, not knowing what to say to her. It wasn’t…it wasn’t as easy as that. It wasn’t as simple.

There was too much to “fix,” and not enough time to wade through all of their issues, and too much pride to sweep it under a rug and hug and call it done—

“Cassandra,” Jason began, stepping forward, one hand raised, placating, but Cassandra shook her head again, expression crumbling—

“Then leave!” her voice cracked, and she dropped briefly to her haunches, grabbing at snow, tossing it half-heartedly at him. Again and again, “Don’t come—back!” Jason visibly started at the words, suddenly quite aware that no one had actually ever chased him away before. They hadn’t needed to, in so many words – he was the Bat’s big failure, his one mistake; an outlaw from the family, a son disowned for the way he could no longer condone and follow his father’s antiquated, ineffective code of moral justice.

They hadn’t said it, but the Bat had never needed to use words with his Robins – Jason had always just known. He could read the cowl almost better than the man’s actual face, and just as well as any book. Batman – Bruce – had never needed to tell Jason to leave. He’d only needed to look at him, and he had, too many times.

Jason already knew he wasn’t welcome, knew he couldn’t be, but—

—inexplicably, hearing the words hurt.

“You always c-come—back,” Cassandra sniffed, and breathed, and fixed him with a glare that made Jason feel like he was thirteen again and had done something stupid, even though the corners of her eyes were glittering with moisture. “Always want to—but, you won’t, help, so—stay,” she tossed more snow at him, hands jerking with frustration, the edges of her sleeves wet, “Away!”

More snow.

Jason dropped his gaze, his hands still clenched tightly, but all the anger having rushed to the surface when she’d laid the blame at his feet, had evaporated in the interim – instead, he had his shoulders hunched, and his teeth grit, lips dry and his ears burning—

He didn’t know what to say.

…

He didn’t know how to fix it—

When he couldn’t even enter the house—

When he couldn’t—

Cassandra had chucked a last chunk of ice in his direction and turned on her heel, rushing away, up the stairs, almost colliding with Tim, who Jason hadn’t even noticed sneaking up on them.

Jason watched, feeling intrusive, when the kid caught her by her shoulders, sounding concerned – Cassandra in the way, he couldn’t see Tim’s face, “Cass?”

Her short hair shifted this way and that when she shook her head, and curled herself out of Tim’s loose grip, slipping around him and disappearing across the threshold, Tim half-turned back to watch her go.

Jason couldn’t move. He hadn’t seen Tim since before the Joker had—

Had what…?

Jason hadn't bothered finding out, he didn’t want to know.

Tim turned back to face him and Jason took a breath as he did, not sure what to expect on the younger boy’s face, but—

There was nothing.

No scars on his skin, or bruises, or marks, and – and Tim didn’t carry himself in any way suggesting he’d been beaten to a bloody pulp with a crowbar, made to watch the timer that was counting down the last seconds of his life, before the big Bat could swoop in and save him with time to spare—

He was thinner though, than when Jason had last seen him in civvies.

Jason blinked, drew himself up, carefully unclenching his fists as Tim took the steps down to meet him.

“What did you do?” Tim asked plainly, but there was no demand or accusation in his tone.

Jason scanned the kid’s face, looking for something he didn’t know – something just…felt, wrong about the kid. “I—” he started all the same, perhaps intent on defending himself, when really…he had no idea how to explain. He’d screwed up again. That’s what it was. “Nothing,” he said firmly, snapped almost, pushing aside some of the hurt from Cassandra’s words, and the surprise, and uncertainty, doubt, fear, false bravery, he’d been lugging around all day. He didn’t want another spat, especially, somehow, not with Tim – who’d been offering him juice, and inviting him in and getting his wrist twisted for his troubles; maybe if Jason had offered they share notes on the drug case after all, worked together, Joker wouldn’t have been able to—

He shook his head, angry. No.

“I was just leaving.”

“No,” Tim said, like he was answering a question. “You have to see Batsy, c’mon,” Jason frowned at the address, and Tim’s audacity, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and tugging as he made for the house—

Jason didn’t budge, caught him by the wrist, bending slightly forward so as to meet the kid’s eyes better, “Tim.”

Tim looked at him briefly, dropped his gaze to Jason’s hand around his arm, and his own hand on Jason’s jacket before he released the fabric, and Jason let go of him as well. He met Jason’s eyes, brows pinched, lips twisted into a frown before, slowly, they curled into a grin instead.

“I forgot.”

Jason eyed the kid carefully, but he could never have predicted Tim’s actions—

He lunged at him, and Jason moved instinctively to defend himself against an attack that never came, because Tim was not attacking him. Instead, the teenager had caught Jason about the waist, arms locked tight in a hug, his chin against Jason’s shoulder, and Jason—

Stood awkwardly with his mouth open and his arms hovering aimlessly in the air.

“Uh…” Jason stared at what he could see of the boy’s unruly mop of black hair from the corner of his eye, his hands moving to touch Tim’s unspeakably thin wrists at his back, intent on prying him loose, but, for all that he’d definitely lost some muscle mass, the kid still had an intensely good grip – and he wasn’t about to just let go, either. “Imitating Dickie, Pretender?” Jason scoffed, more than a little bite to it. Tim hardly noticed – if anything, he squeezed a little tighter. Jason didn’t really want to yank him away, for fear of bruising the boy, but he could hardly stand much more of this either.

He caught sight of Cassandra in the doorway then, eyes red, jaw clenched, and he felt—

Guilty.

“You’re bruising my ribs, here, kid, c’mon,” he said at last, tugging on Tim’s sleeve. Tim let him go almost at once, with a gasp and a yelp, taking two steps back, onto the porch, holding his hands close to his chest, biting hard at his bottom lip.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to, um, do that – or, um—” Tim stumbled over his words, eyes on where he’d been latched onto Jason just now, making the older man shift his shoulders, uncomfortable under the intent gaze.

“Please,” he scoffed, thus, playing it off as best he could. He straightened his jacket, brushed it off for something to do, “Like I bruise that easy,” he waved a hand dismissively. “What’s the matter, kid? Dickie skimping out on annual cuddles, so you’re jacking ’em wherever you can get away with it?”

Jason grinned at him, lopsided and snide, the way he was used to.

“Um,” Tim blinked, meeting Jason’s eyes, and then – he giggled. High-pitched, and in a way that made Jason’s insides quaver like they hadn’t in a while.

At once he was no longer grinning. Cassandra’s eyes had gone wide, Jason noticed. Tim, almost immediately, had slapped both hands over his mouth with a loud, probably not entirely painless, smack.

He was still giggling though, hiccupping as he tried in vain not to, shoulders shaking, eyes shutting tight and opening, blinking, gathering tears on his lashes—

“Timothy?” Jason tried, half-raising a hand, taking one cautious step up, coming just a little bit closer—

“Timmy—” Cassandra had her arms around Tim from behind before Jason could do much more, her nimble fingers working at the kid’s own, trying to loosen the grip he had on his face – but Tim clutched tighter, his nails scratching at his pale cheeks, and the back of one hand, leaving lines slowly reddening.

“Let it out—” Jason heard Cassandra say, urgent if quiet. He stared, at a loss for what to do, or what was happening—

Tim rocked forward, back, tried turning his head, shifting his shoulders, lifting his elbows to shrug Cassandra off – she wouldn’t budge—

Tim was hunched forward, looking smaller to Jason than even Cassandra was, despite being the same height, Tim’s shoulders broader—

He blinked, hard and fast, tears trailing down his cheeks, colliding with his clawing fingers—

“Let it out—” Cassandra hissed at him, digging her fingers in between Tim’s hands, but getting no further—

Tim was still giggling, louder and faster, sounding more strangled every second shudder as he tried hard to suppress it. He sounded just like…like Tim, but unlike Tim, and Jason—

Couldn’t take it anymore.

“Timmy,” he’d half-snapped, half-pled, before he knew he’d done it, and grabbed the kid by a shoulder with one hand – Tim gave a startled yell in between the giggles, hands springing free from his mouth, and his body hunching, dipping back, out of Cassandra’s hold—

Tim had spun around and run inside the manor, up the staircase before Jason had more than blinked, leaving them with another stuttered apology, and the echoes of his laughing, sobbing, choking voice bouncing off the walls as he fled.

Jason stood, dumbfounded, watching him go, only then becoming aware of the quickness of his breathing, the drumming of his heart—

“What the hell?” he mumbled at Cassandra, half-heartedly gesturing the stairs inside.

Her lips thinned, her gaze on the porch in thought, before she looked back to the staircase, and back around at Jason, her brown eyes sweeping over all of him before settling on his eyes, “He’s—” she looked away, the motion almost abrupt with the way she cut off as well, and Jason couldn’t help but think, with their earlier exchange, maybe she wasn’t about to tell him after all. But then—

“…Grateful…you know,” she shrugged one shoulder and frowned at the floor.

Jason frowned, too, not sure what she was on about now, “What?”

Cassandra glanced at him, unperturbed by his confusion, “Dick, told him…you found him, he’s…grateful,” she said, shortly.

Jason’s shoulders slumped, his still-hovering hands dropping to his sides. “Oh.” A beat passed. “But, what just – I mean, with the—” he brought his hands back up, unable to find the words, exactly, “He was—just—what the hell?” he asked again, voice tight, and when Cassandra regarded him, brows knit together, it was with a vague look of pity Jason wasn’t sure was for him, or actually Tim. There was anger there, too, though – that, Jason was sure was meant for him.

“The…Joker, he…” she started, slowly, and Jason swallowed. “You don’t, want to know,” she shook her head, looked away again. “You didn’t like the thought, before…less, now.”

Jason had clenched his hands without realising.

“And, you don’t like…when I—” she looked back at him, just a shift of her eyes.

“Read me like a damn book—no, I don’t,” he snapped, glaring at her.

She ducked her head, fingers peeking out the sleeves of her over-sized sweater to play at the hems.

Jason loosened his fists; spoke more quietly, “You can’t help it…can you?”

Jason watched her suck in a breath through her nose, and let it out slowly. She shrugged.

“Dick said, once…” she lifted her head, but kept her eyes averted. “Language…is not something, you unlearn. When you’ve known it…forever. He can…no more not understand a…different language he hears, on…accident, than I can…stop…” she met his eyes, “Seeing. It’s…hearing, to me. And I, wouldn’t want, to. Stop. It makes me…” she squinted at nothing. “Better,” she said at last, nodding firmly.

Jason frowned, “Better? At what…?”

“Being Batman,” she replied simply, as though it should have been obvious.

An exasperated little growl crept up Jason’s throat before he could stop it, “Cassandra—” he started.

“Cass,” she interrupted, and he paused. “Call me, Cass.”

“Er—” he blinked at her, heat rising up his neck, touching his ears, the memory of her words from before still echoing in his head, and the redness about her eyes still too fresh from the tears he’d caused her—

What the hell was she seeing in him now that made her give him permission to call her by a nickname?

“Cass…sandra,” he mumbled awkwardly, looked away, paused again. “You shouldn’t be… ‘being Batman’ – you’re a kid, you should,” he waved a hand, “Be in school or something—”

“I’m your age,” she interrupted plainly.

“Well, that’s just—” he scowled. She was short, and thin, and a dozen different kinds of lethal, he knew full well, but with her small frame he’d guessed her no older than Tim. Younger, even. Another teenager. Another kid, fighting Batman’s war. “…Still,” he muttered lamely, shifting his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets, long since having forgotten the mild chill clinging to his fingers. He still couldn’t quite meet her eyes again, “You didn’t…ask for this.” None of us did, not really. None of us knew what we were asking for.

“No,” she agreed. “I was…made. For it,” not a hint of self-deprecation in the statement, and Jason had to look up, a little surprised. “It’s…what I am. And, if I can…use that. To help,” she watched him, pointedly, and her eyes were pools of deep dark brown, pulling him under. “I know you understand.”

Jason swallowed, and looked away, because he did. He did understand. It’s the only reason any of them did anything – helping. Everyone but themselves.

“You don’t…have to,” she said, earnestly, and her dark eyes were filled again with moisture when Jason dared to look up, “Do this alone.”

Jason flinched, when she raised her hand to him, palm up, the sleeve of her sweater pulled back far enough he could see all her fingers. But his breath was stuck in his throat again at the offer she was making—

He clenched his hands to stop his fingers from trembling, and shook his head as much as he could manage – feeling frozen again, one boot in the snow and his other foot on the nearest stair—

“I don’t know—how, to fix it,” he whispered at her fingers. “I can’t—” he breathed.

“Please,” she whispered back, and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. “Just try,” she insisted, quietly—

Jason had ducked his head, could see her feet on the edge of the porch – she wasn’t wearing any shoes, and her bare toes seemed to be reaching toward the first step down like she was about to come even closer though he could already feel her breath against his forehead. Her toenails were bright blue.

“I’m…with you,” she said, and he shook his head at the sincerity in her tone, “Nothing…will happen to you – in there. We’re…your family, Jason—”

“No—” he whispered.

“You promised,” she said, and he shook his head, eyes closed, until she finished, “Alfred.”

The breath he sucked in at that both caught and didn’t, in his throat, making a noise close to sobbing—

He ducked his head farther, pressed his eyes closed tighter, and clenched his fingers around Cassandra’s strong wrists—

She was right.

He had promised Alfred.

A short, frustrated sound escaped his throat, and when he opened his eyes his vision was hazy, unfocused—

“That was low,” he said to the ground, voice rough. He blinked, and blinked, and let go of Cassandra’s wrists and pressed his palms against his eyelids.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, but didn’t release the grip on his jacket.

“No, you’re not,” he said, sharp and unforgiving when he finally straightened up.

She said nothing to the contrary, but stepped backwards, pulling him up the porch and closer to the threshold by his lapels, and he followed, trance-like, without protest.

He walked right up to the doorway, saw the staircase cast in shadow over her shoulder, and caught hold of her wrist again, stopping in his tracks.

He breathed in, deep, and her hold on his jacket loosened until it was nothing but the press of her fingertips against the fabric, feather-light on the outside of his chest, while his heart pounded again, harshly on the inside.

She watched him carefully, and he felt stripped to the bone, like her dark eyes were reflecting the depths of his soul she was looking right into—

“I’m scared,” he admitted, scarcely louder than a whisper, and unintentionally besides – not to mention, she’d probably already seen it, anyway—

She nodded, which came as no surprise, but said then, “So are we…” which did.

It was several loud heartbeats later, the silence seeming eternal between them, before Jason could manage to move again, stepping around her through the doorway, into the foyer proper—

—he breathed—

—chest heaving painfully as he looked around—

He felt dizzy—

Faint—

He was turned around a moment later, not sure whether he was about to go stumbling from the house a second time, or if he was going to spill his breakfast over Alfred’s nice clean floor, when—

Cassandra – Cass – was right in front of him, her fingers cool against his suddenly clammy face, her palms pressed against the line of his jaw—

“You’re…alright,” she insisted, and he blinked, tried to focus on her eyes swimming in front of him. “Jason—”

His fingers twitched – against the skin of her wrists though he didn’t remember reaching for them again—

His eyes were closed; his brow furrowed, his forehead, oddly, pressed against hers—

“Breathe,” she kept whispering at him, and he did—in deep, and out slow, trying to keep it even—“Just breathe, little brother—”

He blinked his eyes open at that, pulled away slightly, and stared at her, surprised, “Huh.”

Jason’s gaze drifted—his heart no longer beating too frantically at its cage, but his thoughts catching up to his actions and wondering what the hell he was doing—to the doorway on his right, leading off to what he remembered as sort of a lounge, with a wall-length bookcase housing little actual stories—

“Then what’s the point of all these…?”

“Master Bruce often entertains guests here, young sir. As a prominent social figure and business icon, he has a certain image to maintain. These…assist.”

“That’s boring.

“…And fake.”

“Such is a life of secrecy, Master Jason.”

“Well, it sucks, Al.”

Cassandra was still watching him, reading him, though the expression on her face suggested she didn’t quite know what she was seeing, which – Jason hardly knew what he was feeling himself.

Besides, he’d gotten distracted—

—for a fleeting moment Jason thought he could see himself, though the boy had no actual face he could make out, coming through the lounge’s doorway, looking up at the tall, black clad figure beside him – smiling, maybe – and Bruce put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed.

“Good work, Jason.”

For all the hard work he’d ever done, as Robin, as Jason, in this house, trying always, to impress, and succeed, and live up to a name and what had now become a legacy he’d always been uncertain about deserving even as he felt a rush of pride donning the suit, donning the ability, the capability, to help people, and change their lives in a big way—

For all the bad bits that came with that, he’d had family here, too.

This was home.

Every good bit of his existence that didn’t include his mom, had happened here. Because of here.

And then Jason was no longer smiling up at Bruce, but was instead settled in the older man’s arms, still clad in his uniform, being carried up the same stairs Jason stared at over his shoulder now, up to bed, feigning sleep – because Robin-training wouldn’t keep him ignorant of being lifted off the couch where he’d succumbed to slumber, despite being ill – because he could not, for the life of him, remember ever being carried and tucked into bed before, by his father. And it felt nice.

…

Jason breathed. Could feel the way his heart pounded, beat after beat.

It was overwhelming, and strange – strangely comforting, strangely disconcerting – to, so suddenly, be reminded of this, when he hadn’t considered these memories in years.

Things between him and Bruce had been at a stalemate for so long, Jason had thought it would go on forever as is.

They’d end up old men on different sides of the city, just…being.

But now – that wouldn’t be the case, anymore. He’d been having, what he thought was undoubtedly every version of whatever this conversation could be, with Bruce in his head since Dick had told him the truth about Bruce, and the old man’s condition, and practically begged him to come inside and settle things.

Sometimes Jason would tell him everything – everything he hated about him, everything he loved, everything he wished he could change, everything he’d learned from Bruce, and everything he hadn’t—

Sometimes Jason told him about dying.

Sometimes Jason told him about waking up in his coffin.

Sometimes Jason told him about the Lazarus Pit.

Sometimes Jason tried to make him understand.

Sometimes Bruce did. Sometimes he said it was alright, and he could accept Jason’s way of doing things. In fact – sometimes it wasn’t Tim who’d killed the Joker, but Bruce instead.

Jason’s mind couldn’t supply a method, exactly, because imagining Bruce wielding a gun, even for putting down that rabid psychopath, only made Jason’s stomach turn.

He’d realised, a long time after he’d tossed Batman his firearm in that old apartment so long ago, how much of a twisted act that had been.

Clowns and crowbars and fires and small, dark spaces, silences, and a host of other things he’d never thought of twice, before, had bothered him for the longest time after he’d come out of the grave – even out of the Pit, still.

He’d worked hard, trained hard to get over whatever he could, and move on, as much as he could.

But he’d realised, wondering how the thought hadn’t occurred to him before – or had it? Had it been intentional? – that Bruce, of course, hadn’t moved on after his parents were shot in front of his very young eyes.

He carried that image, that aversion to that kind of violence, and guns, with him. In hindsight, Jason thought he might have handled his return to Gotham a little better – with regards to the gun, at least.

Sometimes…Jason understood, too.

Sometimes things worked out. Sometimes…Bruce would hold him the way he had in one of those deeply locked-away memories.

Sometimes they shook hands.

Sometimes Bruce even smiled – properly.

Jason looked up, over Cassandra’s shoulder and saw his footprints in the snow again, the trail he’d left up to the steps…

What was he going to tell Bruce when he saw him now?

With the past clinging this tight to his insides, what sort of resentment and heartache and disapproval would that conjure inside him? How would he screw up this chance for—?

Jason didn’t know what, but—

Eyes on the snow, feeling Cassandra’s fingers slowly fall away from his face, her wrists slipping from his grip, Jason did know – there was no going back, even as the memories seemed too much—

No more forever.

This was…it.

Jason needed to do this. For himself. Maybe a little for Bruce, too, he didn’t know.

It was the right thing, regardless, and no matter how unsure he was, or how many happy memories ended up stumbling out of the dark, or how much easier leaving seemed – he needed to be braver than that.

He could do this.

Jason didn’t know how long it took him to gather his wits, but Cassandra had silently let him take his time, and when, with a quick breath, he’d turned around to face the foyer again, she was no longer by herself—

“Master Jason,” the butler stood several steps up the staircase. A couple rungs further up stood Tim, looking placid and plain and much more like himself.

“Al,” Jason replied, quiet, nodding at the man.

“I’m pleased to see you could make it after all, sir,” Alfred said formally, making it sound as if he’d given Jason a choice, but, when the elder man had stood speaking in Jason’s less-than-stellar safe-house only the day before, removing a pair of bloody surgical gloves and clashing ridiculously with the décor, he’d made it quite clear Jason was being all but ordered. There was no other way to take a friendly request from the butler.

Alfred only made requests straightforward and plainly when he knew they were absolutely pertinent, but his charges were being too stubborn or prideful to do what needed to be done.

Besides which, the old man had picked him apart, laid bare Jason’s own soul before him as if it had been Alfred’s, and Jason could not have denied a single thing he’d been told then even if he’d tried. He’d have only been lying.

Alfred had always known him best, and…if Jason owed anyone anything, it was Alfred, who didn’t deserve any of the hurt Jason must have caused all these years, and, while Jason couldn’t – wouldn’t – take it back, because he’d meant it at the time, because he’d wanted Bruce and Dick and Tim, to hurt, he hadn’t ever meant the same for Alfred. He had a chance to make it right now, and he’d promised…There was no more going back.

He did need to do this. For Alfred as much as for himself.

“If you’ll follow me, then, sir.”

Jason breathed, apprehensive at once, but.

Alfred waited with the perceived patience of a thousand resolute, battle-ready soldiers, and Jason set his jaw, determinedly making his way toward the stairs, very carefully not jumping when Cassandra – Cass – shut the door with a low thud once he was properly inside.

next->

[mattprivettwrites]

Re-entering the Dark Ages by our own volition: On the widespread access to and neglect of the word of God

Author’s Note: This post was originally written on August 15, 2013, and posted at my original web site, The MATTrix. As I transition away from that web site, I’m re-posting some things here along the way.

_______________________________________

Just a few short years ago the cliche was that every house in America seemed to have a Bible on the coffee table in their family room, but it was collecting dust for want of being used. Yet, as technology advances and the culture moves from a sort of respect-from-a-distance of Christianity to outright hostility for the faith, the Bible has been replaced by a remote control for each device contributing to our entertainment. Meanwhile, denominational leaders, pastors like me, and church members look out at empty pews, study membership rolls with myriad “inactives,” and wonder how the tide can be turned. We would all do better to realize how we got to this point.

Hint: One has something to do with the other.

Perhaps in previous generations this wasn’t the case, but today it can hardly be denied that a massive majority of people in America and the world at large do not have the worldview espoused by biblical Christianity. This is the necessarily result in a person who does not esteem God and His word rightly, which is where most people are. And that is ironic, because…

THERE HAS NEVER BEEN A TIME WHEN THE WORD OF GOD WAS MORE ACCESSIBLE TO MORE PEOPLE THAN IT IS RIGHT NOW.

Now I have several versions of the Bible in print in my possession. I’m a pastor so that is hardly a surprise. But even if I had no copies of the Bible in print I would be able to do my job just fine. Open your web browser and go to Bible Gateway and you’ll be able to access numerous translations for free. There’s even a sight for the Greek Bible, which I’ve used more than once.

There are Bible programs like Accordance and BibleWorks which I’ve used, and others like Logos that provide the user with too many tools for Bible study to list right here.

As technology has gotten smaller and mobile, access to the Scriptures has become easy. I’ve got the Bible Gateway app on both my iPhone and iPad, and before that I used YouVersion. Some of those study programs for the computer also come in mobile versions.

Bottom line: It’s just never been easier to get your eyes on the word of God, to go back and say nothing of the wide availability of print versions of the Bible, many of which you can get for free.

In more formats than ever, in more languages than ever, people can access the wonderful words of life, which is great news, but also sad, because…

THERE HAS NEVER BEEN A TIME WHEN THE WORD OF GOD WAS MORE FORSAKEN BY MORE PEOPLE WHO HAD ACCESS TO IT THAN IT IS RIGHT NOW.

When I was a kid I remember loving carrying my own Bible to church and even highlighting and underlining passages. Now I realize just how much grace God was showing me. Almost everyone had their own Bible, and if you didn’t there were Bibles readily available in the pews for you to use.

What a cultural shift we have seen. As a pastor I’m continually amazed by how many people don’t show up with a Bible and never bother picking one up when I tell them to turn to such and such a passage. Now sure, some use their iPads or iPhones as their Bibles. I’m absolutely fine with that. But a great many don’t even bother.

Maybe the churches themselves, in how they “present” the worship service, are partly to blame. More than one has taken the Bibles out of the pews and put it up on a PowerPoint type projection. I understand the thought behind projecting it, but I think it’s had an overall negative effect on the church. People don’t pick up the Bible and actually turn the pages. People don’t carry Bibles in and thus, when they might be struck by another verse somewhere else, they lack the ability to read it. Overall, there has just been an element of personal and corporate worship that has faded, or is greatly fading, away. And what’s happening in the church meetings themselves is just a microcosm of the bigger picture, where people just aren’t reading and studying the Bible.

Of course, there is nothing new under the sun (Eccl 1:9). We aren’t the first batch of “God’s people” to neglect His word. By the time Josiah became king when he was a mere eight years old, Judah had endured 77 years or so of evil rule from Manasseh and Amon. And really, who knows how long before that they’d really been forsaking the Scriptures (to say nothing of the northern kingdom)?

This is how bad it got. When Josiah sent Shaphan on an errand to tell Hilkiah the high priest to count the money brought into the temple, Hilkiah then came to Shaphan and said, “I have found the book of the law in the house of YHWH” (2 Kgs 22:8). It surely is a great thing that the Scriptures, presumably the Pentateuch and perhaps more, was found. However, the question the reader should be asking is, “Why was it lost in the first place?!?”

Israel was entrusted with the oracles of God (Rom 3:2) and in this instance it appears they had not merely abandoned the teaching, but the book and the words themselves for a period of several years, perhaps several decades. Now thanks be to God that Josiah rejoiced at the finding of the Scriptures and lead the way in repenting from this sin (2 Kgs 23:1-27), so much so that it would be said “Before him there was no king like him who turned to YHWH with all his heart and with all his soul and with all his might, according to all the law of Moses; nor did any like him arise after him” (2 Kgs 23:25), but Israel proved to be a disobedient cautionary tale. Yet, if history is any guide, people have long failed to learn from their bad example (1 Cor 10:6).

From around the middle of the first millennium after Christ and for the next thousand or so years, what became the Roman Catholic Church, for all intents and purposes, took the Scriptures away from the people so that they were devoid of the Spirit-breathed revelation of God about Himself and His redemptive plan in Christ.

As a result, while there was always a remnant, the gospel was lost to the vast majority of the people who looked to the “Church” for the truth. A false gospel of faith plus works prevailed, with a sprinkling in of indulgences, increasing devotion to Mary, papal controversies and schisms, and a heavy dash of superstition.

Thanks be to God for the Protestant Reformation, which simmered under the surface for a couple hundred years but really got going in 1517 and onward behind courageous men like Luther, Zwingli, Calvin, Knox, and others. Sola Scriptura became the first of the five solas of the Reformation. The Bible was, if not recovered, rediscovered and once again treasured, once again distributed to the people.

Nevertheless, today, almost 500 years after Martin Luther nailed his “95 Theses” to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenburg, our society, led by many who profess to know and love God, have re-entered the Dark Ages by their own volition. Never has there been a time when the Bible was so available, but “God’s people” were so biblically illiterate.

So-called pastors, shepherds of the flocks of God, do their people no favors with false gospels, prosperity theology, and watered down, entertainment and purpose-driven preaching, but every individual Christian is ultimately responsible before God. It’s His word and many of those who claim to be His people are forsaking it to their own peril, which leads us to one more point…

THERE HAS NEVER BEEN A TIME WHEN IT WAS MORE IMPORTANT FOR THE PEOPLE OF GOD TO BE SATURATED WITH THE WORD OF GOD THAN IT IS RIGHT NOW.

“Therefore be on the alert, for you do not know which day your Lord is coming.” – Matt 24:42

“Blessed are those slaves whom the master will find on the alert when he comes; truly I say to you, that he will gird himself to serve, and have them recline at the table, and will come up and wait on them.” – Luke 12:37

“Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong.” – 1 Cor 16:13

“With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints,” – Eph 6:18

“Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” – 1 Pet 5:8

This is but a sampling of the verses just in the New Testament in which believers are instructed to be on the alert, or be aware, or be watchful. Peter gives us one reason why in that last verse. The devil is seeking to devour us. But wait, there’s more…

“But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will also be false teachers among you, who will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing swift destruction upon themselves.” – 2 Pet 2:1

“But the Spirit explicitly says that in later times some will fall away from the faith, paying attention to deceitful spirits and doctrines of demons, by means of the hypocrisy of liars seared in their own conscience as with a branding iron.” – 1 Tim 4:1-2

“But realize this, that in the last days difficult times will come. For men will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant, revilers, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, unloving, irreconcilable, malicious gossips, without self-control, brutal, haters of good, treacherous, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, holding to a form of godliness, although they have denied its power; Avoid such men as these.” – 2 Tim 3:1-5

Guess what? We live in these times. When T.D. Jakes, Joel Osteen, Joyce Meyer are seen by a large number of people as qualified preachers and teachers of God’s word, we’re living in a spiritual desert full of “springs without water and mists driven by a storm, for whom the black darkness has been reserved” (2 Pet 2:17). And that’s just the prosperity preachers. Personally, the Steven Furticks, Perry Nobles, and James McDonalds are much more troublesome, to say nothing of the litany of story-telling, morality-espousing, Bible-lite preachers filling so many old-school and new-school pulpits each Sunday. Yes, we are living in these times.

So what do we do about it? We “contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all handed down to the saints” (Jude 3).

How? “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth” (2 Tim 2:15).

Word of truth? What’s that? “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work” (2 Tim 3:16-17).

So then what we do? “Holding fast the faithful word which is in accordance with the teaching, so that he will be able both to exhort in sound doctrine and to refute those who contradict” (Tit 1:9).

My what means? “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season [that is, whether the preacher feels like it or the listener likes that word or not]; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with great patience and instruction. . . . be sober in all things, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry” (2 Tim 4:2, 5).

So, as I believe it’s transparent, one cannot be a faithful Christian and forsake the word of God. Yet, it happens, it’s happening, and all signs point to it continuing to happen.

Let it not be said of you. This is God’s revelation of Himself, and if you are trusting in Him for everything [such as your salvation], then how can you not treasure His word? Do not live in your own version of the Dark Ages. God sent Jesus into the world that Light might shine out of the darkness. So treasure the word, love the word, read the word, study the word, memorizing the word. Pursue and live the truth to the glory of God.

[itriednottothinkaboutit]

Everyone Knows You Don’t Muck About with Time Travel

For Carry On Countdown. I’m planning to combine the Time Travel AU and Dreams prompts into the same fic but I’m a bit behind schedule. Here’s Part 1! 1344 words.

Part 1 — Penny

Everyone knows you don’t muck about with time travel. The concept is so fundamental even Normals get it (feel free to consult Wikipedia’s list of time travel films, most of which are utterly preposterous but serve as cautionary tales re: my first point that you don’t muck about with time travel). The last thing anyone wants is to watch your future self slowly disappear out of a photo all Back to the Future-style while you stand there and say “Oh drat!” like a total waste of the time-space continuum.

So when I saw The Insidious Humdrum for the first time I thought—through my haze of confusion and fear—Good gracious Simon has really done it this time. He’s managed to bloody time travel us.

One minute, we were in the Wavering Wood, watching in disbelief as Baz kissed Agatha, and the next we were just…not. I’d heard Simon take a deep, unsteady breath and I’d reached over to squeeze his hand and then my body was ripped away from the woods and tossed aside like a cosmic band-aid. Next thing I know we’re flat on our backs in a field, on a hill actually, still holding hands. Definitely not in Kansas anymore.

The sun was too hot and the sky was too blue and there was a ringing hum in my ears like how in films when there’s an explosion and then they sort of mute and muffle the sound temporarily to show you that the lead character’s really in for it now. I knew right away we’d landed in a dead spot and I was trying to make sense of how we’d gotten there, but it was hard to think because the air was so dry and my head was all spinny and I needed a glass of water or I didn’t think I’d be able to open my mouth and utter a single word (magickal or not) to help us get out of there. I guess traveling through an invisible wormhole will do that to you.

“Lancashire,” Simon said. He knew where we were. And he could speak, which was more than I could manage to do, so I considered that a win.

Then I saw Simon. Kid Simon. Past Simon. For one brief, mad second, I thought (real) Simon had somehow managed to accidentally conjure up some majorly off-limits time travel magic and had Simon-ed it up so hardcore that he’d flung as willy-nilly into the past. But then I knew Kid Simon had to be a trick the Humdrum was playing on us because of how he was making me feel, like he was a vacuum drawing all my life and breath and magic out of me, scrambling my insides up like eggs on an iron skillet. The scrawny 11-year old in ill-fitting jeans and grungy white tshirt looked just like Simon had looked, even had his old bouncy red ball he’d kept with him at all times during our first year, but he couldn’t actually be Simon, could he? Because, well, he wanted to kill us, didn’t he? And Simon was going to save us, not kill us. Then I realized it wasn’t a trick. Kid Simon was the Humdrum. Had to be.

I couldn’t manage a scream, not even a gasp, because my throat felt like sandpaper. But Simon could. The kid bounced his ball at Simon and he caught it and started howling at the Humdrum to show his real face. “Stop it! Show yourself, your coward—show yourself!”

The Humdrum was laughing, giggly-cackling really, and Simon was shouting so fierce his lips got all cracked and bloody. He kept squeezing the rubber ball like he wished it were the Humdrum’s skull. His hands were turning red and I thought he was sucking the red dye out of the ball but that’s when I realized the red on his hands was blood. And my hands and arms were bleeding too. Red and yellow puss-like fluid was seeping through my pours and that’s when voice-or-no I knew I had to get us the bloody hell out of there.

I grabbed the ball from Simon—ignoring how it burned straight through my skin—and threw it down the hill as hard as I could. It soared in a flaming arc like Icarus dispelled from his burning chariot. The kid went chasing after it and when he did the sucking stopped, thank Merlin.

I fell over, cradling my right hand that was blistered raw where the ball had touched it. Simon picked me up, sprouted wings and got us the hell out of dodge on nothing but a wish a wing and a prayer. Because he’s Simon bloody Snow and apparently that’s just what he does when he’s in a pinch and needs to escape a maniacal evil child that happens to share his face. He just defies all laws of time, space, magic, gravity and common sense. (It must show you where my head was at right then that I didn’t properly freak out about the whole Simon sprouting wings thing until we appeared to be out of harm’s way and then we couldn’t make the sodding things go away).

Up in the air, I could speak again, so I cast healing spells and strength spells and clinging spells so he couldn’t drop me and we made our escape. When we finally got our heads on straight we realized we’d be mad to try and fly all the way back to Watford so we landed because figured we should try and take a train instead.

But then there was the whole terrifying problem of the wings themselves. The wings that were a part of Simon, made of blood and bone and feathers that were his, that were part of him and we couldn’t make go away no matter how hard I tried, not until I remembered “Nonsense!”. It’s a spell for scared children to get rid of boogiemen and creepy crawlies and monsters under the bed. I hadn’t used it since I was five or six years old and scared out of my skull of Bloody Mary. My older brother had told me about her and I was sure she would appear in the washroom mirror whenever I needed to use the loo in the middle of the night, whether I said her name three times or not. It had gotten to the point where I actually wet the bed one night instead of getting up to use the loo, so my mother had taught me “Nonsense!”.

Just saying that spell aloud immediately brought with it a rush of memories I’d forgotten. Me hanging around my older brothers and insisting I was old enough for their scary stories. The boy smell and scratchy feel of my brother’s flannel sheets as I hid my head under the covers as he told me the story of how Mary lost her head, him describing the thin silken red ribbon that kept her neck attached to her head. Me reaching into the washroom with just my arm first so I could make sure the light was flicked on before I entered it. The total and utter shame of wetting my pajamas and sheets, knowing I was too old to be so scared. Wanting to hide the evidence from my parents but not knowing how. The flood of relief that my mum wasn’t mad at me after I told her why I’d done it. Her holding me, teaching me how to conquer my fears and then singing me to sleep.

The memories stuck with me as Simon’s wings disintegrated and I tried to clean the bloody remnants from his shoulder blades.

We somehow managed to make it back to Watford. But after that I knew that if we were going to figure out how to beat the Humdrum—and figure out why it looked like Simon—we were going to have to time travel into Simon’s past.

Exactly how we were going to do that, I had no idea.

[sepublic]

Eda and the Blight Family

           Before we start, I think it’s safe to say that Amity isn’t adopted. Aside from the fact that her parents would be way too elitist and bigoted to do that sort of thing… Amity’s resemblance to her mother is uncanny, they’re dead-ringers for one another! And we know brown hair runs in the family from her father, so…!

           I have to wonder which parent married in? MAYBE Mr. Blight, because his hair looks a bit messier than his future wife’s, so maybe he wasn’t as prim and proper and of ‘noble’ standing as her…? It’s a stretch. Either way they’re both awful, but have also been around for a LONG time as well…! Like, unless their parents specifically set them up to do it from childhood (which would not shock me), those awful two still nevertheless probably enjoyed each other’s company as kids!

           Also, it’s obvious that Mr. Blight isn’t the Abomination Head! We see him as a kid when Eda and Lilith are, yet we know that the Abomination Head was an adult who assisted Belos in his rise to power some years prior! Of course maybe it’s GRANDPA Blight who’s in charge of the Abomination Coven, hence both Blight Parents being in that track… But I digress! My point is, it’s not Mr. Blight!

           They were also THERE when Eda stood up against the Coven System, and as if by some cruel twist of fate just so happened to transform into a monster immediately afterwards… GOODNESS I can see how conceited Mrs. Blight is, no doubt snickering behind Eda’s back, probably contributing to bullying and actually thinking that Eda deserved this! Mr. Blight, from his expression LOOKS like he could’ve been a more apathetic dude… But obviously not anymore, as we see in Understanding Willow!

           I have to wonder if Eda and the Blight Parents ever actually interacted as children in any meaningful capacity, or if it was just them being in the same room as one another and noticing the other’s presence, and quietly reacting whenever something big went up? How did the Blight Parents feel about Lilith, Eda’s ‘better’ sister, who they may as well have trusted to tutor Amity, their Golden Child? Goodness, did the Blight Parents contribute to Eda’s bullying and torment for the curse!?

           Did they ever tell their children about Eda and Lilith? Did the Blight Parents set down their kids and tell them about Lilith, the proper, GOOD sister who is responsible and joined the Emperor’s Coven, and showed her unruly sister what was right… Versus Eda, the outcast and troublemaker with ideas, who was punished by the universe itself by being transformed into a monster?!

          What kind of horrific slander did they spread of Eda, speaking of the curse like it was her fault? Did the Blight Parents have some sort of sick and twisted respect for Lilith in that she proved herself better than Eda… That she was the golden example, the one who didn’t fall from the intended path and was rewarded as the Head of the Emperor’s Coven, while her rebellious sister only suffered?

          No doubt, when Eda the Owl Lady became a reputed criminal, the Blight Parents made sure to make it VERY clear what had happened that day, potentially even exaggerating a detail or two, making it obvious just how much of a savage Eda is… And, I think it says a lot. That when Emira and Edric meet Eda for the first time, they just do NOT bat an eye whatsoever at her! That at most they’re interested in her admittedly unorthodox method of teaching, but there’s no judgment on their part and Edric is even willing to give Eda’s advice a try!

          Like, those twins still suffered a LOT of abuse and absorbed plenty of toxicity from their parents, but. It’s clear from the way they approached Luz and embraced her as a friend immediately, that they do NOT care what their parents have to say about others! That if their parents have a bad opinion of someone, then that person is probably cool, that they’re defiantly telling off their parents by happily minding the presence of the freakish Owl Lady they had warned so much against! It’s just so open-minded, and while obvious Emira and Edric may have been too critical of Amity and her less open mind, it still speaks so much of their characters and how they just don’t mind other people!

          And Amity… Alas, Amity’s demeanor seems to become more cold and closed-off when Eda becomes more apparent. I’d always noticed that, which makes sense- She likes Luz, but Eda is a Wanted Criminal and Amity still has her things to unlearn! But coupled with what her parents like said of the Owl Lady, and…!

          Honestly, it says a lot just how much those kids have managed to grow and defy their parents. To ultimately accept this alleged ‘freak’ that they no doubt heard cautionary tales and stories about, of a witch who was punished by the universe itself for going down the wrong path… For ultimately accepting Eda! Specifically, how Amity and Eda share that small moment during Grom, where they regard one another, and make it clear that regardless of any preconceptions or feelings, Luz is in danger and they both agree that they love her!

          And then Amity sees how unconditionally loving and accepting of Luz that Eda is. She sees how safe Luz feels around her, so much more safe and open than Amity has ever felt around her parents. And so when her leg is broken, her visiting the Owl House and being accepted by Eda, because Eda KNOWS that Luz likes her… It says so much how Amity has grown! How much she’s rejected and unlearned the ‘Blight lineage’, alongside her siblings! That maybe she doesn’t exactly want to be like them, but in a way Amity still followed in the twins’ footsteps, namely down the path that mattered!

          And I can only imagine how it’ll turn out, when the Blight Kids side with Eda. When their abusive parents bring up the curse, and warn them that all three will likely be transformed into monsters by the universe as spiteful karma for their wrongdoing! And as scared as they are…

          The Blight Kids KNOW that won’t happen (especially since Lilith opened up about the truth), and they keep going on anyway. That they don’t know much about this funky Owl Lady, but if people like their parents and Belos hate her, then clearly she’s got something good going on; Especially since they feel safer and more accepted by her than by any other adult they’ve come across!

          And finally… It says a lot of Eda. That the Blight Parents, who likely contributed to her mistreatment, to her feelings of being a freak who deserved to be hated and despised… She sees their kids, and while she rightfully has reservations, she just. Quickly accepts them as family, gives them a spot and a home if they ever need it!

          No doubt Eda is operating under the correct assumption that the Blight Parents are abusive, if her memories of them as children are any indication… But still. Amity, Emira, and Edric were born of those two awful individuals, but Eda still gave them a chance to be individuals, because that’s what she always does, letting people embrace who they are REALLY, separate from what the Coven System or anything else may insist upon or dictate!

          That those kids have definitely been influenced toxicly by their parents, but they’re still kids and they’re still their own people! That Eda isn’t going to project her anger onto them, that she isn’t going to expect them to fit a specific standard laid out by their bloodline… Nah, she just gives these kids the chance to be who they really are! And the Blight kids recognize this, and are just… SO enamored by this funky Owl Lady! The twins especially, knowing she had to have been great if their parents hated her so!

          Imagine the Blight Parents raising their kids, warning them of Eda the Owl Lady, telling them that they wouldn’t want to be like her… When in reality, that’s EXACTLY who those kids want to be like, no doubt partly in defiance to their own parents’ abuse!

[ratemallet93-blog]

Ask Sam Mailbag: 01.04.19

I'll start off by saying nothing changes if nothing changes. I would like to see some changes. I was thrilled to get Parker. At the time the legend Of Chicago high school basketball was second on the team in scoring behind Zach Lavine. Suddenly Portis comes, Hoiberg is gone, and apparently so is Jabari. Teams seem willing to put up with a player who seldom scores as long as he plays defense, so why is it so hard to stick with a guy like Jabari who can score? I don't understand why we're not playing him at all. The kid is bound to have limitations after two surgeries. If his defense is suspect, don't coaches teach anymore? Tell him, show him, teach what you want him to do on defense. What did they see when they signed him for $20 million a year that they don't see now?? The starting lineup and the rotation has made no changes either. Holiday still starts even though he struggling. Carter still start even though he always gets into early fall trouble. If he came off the bench he could watch and learn for six or seven minutes and then go in against their subs not their starters. I suppose like anybody else maybe we are setting the stage to get Zion. What a huge huge huge move that would be for the Bulls or anyone who would get him. If we are trying to get lottery and first round draft picks, I get that. But I would also like to see a team that would make that guy want to be here.

Jo Morrison

Sam: And you wrote before the Orlando game, so it's without as much rancor. It's pretty obvious now that Parker isn't playing after they substituted Benny the Bull, the Red Panda and the quick dress lady into the game ahead of Parker Wednesday. Actually there is change despite what you note; just not the sort of changes you would like for now. We see this often, and it recently occurred with old buddies Luol Deng and Joakim Noah. They signed long-term contracts. And then managements changed in both places with a new philosophy, and nether played for two years until they basically were released. Jabari likely still would be playing with Fred Hoiberg, who wasn't thrilled with Jabari's defensive transition, but accepted, as you note, the tradeoff with his offense. But Jim Boylen has made clear he's coaching differently, focusing on defense and inside/outside offense (in theory) and a more deliberate pace and measured offense. Plus, Parker also apparently is being used as something of cautionary tale to the rest of the team. Play this way or don't play at all. So the team Parker was hired for no longer exists. The Bulls anticipated it to an extent with the one year guarantee. After all, Deng and Noah had four-year guarantees. Though your suggestions also illustrate the complex issues of starting over again with the same roster without a training camp. You say sit Wendell Carter Jr, but that means start Lopez, who presumably is not part of the team's future. So they really shouldn't want to do that. Felicio? Not as a starter, I presume. Maybe dip into the G-league from the smoking hot Windy City Bulls (six straight wins) for some guys to look at if they're not playing Parker? And now with Justin Holiday traded I suspect we see Chandler Hutchison a lot. I don't fully get why Parker is on the active roster, anyway, if he's not playing and apparently not going to. Though what you hit on clearly is the enigma wrapped in a riddle and all that. There's still a lot of sorting out to do, and the three everyone hopes eventually add a Big prefix just started playing together a week ago.

Let's give credit where credit is due! Garpax just acquired two borderline NBA players and two second round draft picks for Justin Holiday. Justin Holiday is an ideal teammate, a model citizen, and a smart player. So Memphis hit the jackpot if they're looking for a Scalabrine type for the end of the bench. If they're looking for a basketball player, they should keep looking. In 22 out of 38 games this season Justin Holiday shot below 40% from the field. And he shoots 7 threes a game! This is a man that can single handedly bring down your team shooting percentage on any given night. I, for one, am glad he's gone. But I'm sure Boylen is crushed and trying to find creative ways to play Robin Lopez at the 3.

Yuriy Fomin

Sam: Let's not be too hard on Justin since he did also learn to play the guitar on the road. Plus the guy made himself into at least an NBA specialist, and no one much thought he could in Europe, the G-league and a half dozen teams. You know he's got to be moving into Graceland, or at least heartbreak hotel with his guitar. I can understand that Boylen was trying to make his coaching case by winning some games, but he was playing Holiday way too much. In fact, the Bulls seemed to run a curl screen play to shoot a three on top for Holiday out of timeouts more than for anyone else. Enough of that! Management doesn't dictate to coaches who to play—or isn't supposed to—but they can get rid of guys being used too much. It's time for Hutchison, shaky offense and all, to play, and play more as he was playing well the other night in Toronto and then sat out the end of the game. Now you assume Hutchison will start, and whether it looks like a run to the lottery, it's the right thing to do for where and who this Bulls team is now. I'm assuming Lopez is next unless he starts making threes like his brother.

What is your prediction on what the bulls do with: Parker - will they trade him out for something? Or hold until the end of the season and not renew? Gee the Bulls management handled this situation terribly. Should have sugar coated him and played him but from the bench. Now we have driven his value to rock bottom. Lopez - see no logic in a buyout. Might as well clear him at seasons end Holiday - also Rock bottom value and don't see a valuable asset to trade him out for his 4.5 mil Portis - the best of the bunch but we have probably seen his ceiling. Hopefully offer him a lesser contract than earlier or a higher salary (12 mil/yr) but on a 2 yr deal. I was so excited at the start of the season. Now we'll be looking at a no.5-6 pick in an average draft.

Andrew Brown

Sam: At least no New Year's resolutions. I suspect they work out a deal with Portis. Having two injuries like he's had and missing almost half the season probably has been sobering for him. I suspect he'll be a bit more accommodating in negotiations. And he'll still be wealthier than any of us ever are. So no feeling sorry. Parker's fate seems determined. Holiday is no longer a part of the team, as anticipated given the likelihood he wasn't part of the future plan, and Lopez figures to be next. Perhaps Lopez could return at a reasonable price given he's a popular teammate and a tough guy with size. Though he may not want that mentor role quite yet. He'll be more difficult to trade given he makes $14.3 million and the Bulls would have to take back that much salary. Lopez didn't much like the post-All Star last year of seeing the kids. He wants to play. But does it make any sense if he's not going forward? Wendell Carter Jr. ended up with just 13 minutes against Orlando, which was probably an aberration. That's not likely to happen again. I didn't think he played that badly; or at least not so poorly as to stand out among others. He dealt with it amazingly well for a 19-year-old, and though he has had some issues with all these huge guys he's had to play, he's also suffered because the Bulls haven't been emphasizing offensive options for him. They will. The other side of it is understandable. There's a new coach and he wants to win some games to show he is deserving. That's certainly natural. Plus, he wants to win some games and make a point (defensively) in the name of that culture thing.

You want your young players in close games and have a chance to develop habits when the game is being contested. Yes, it would be great to get a top college kid. Really, really great. But it's hardly guaranteed with the bottom three teams having the same odds for the top pick, about 14 percent. Even if you have the fifth poorest record, you have a 10.5 percent chance for the top pick instead of 14 with the poorest record. Is that worth throwing away an entire season? Though with these trades the Bulls may be more so on that path. It is coming time to keep Carter and Chandler Hutchison in games and perhaps get a look at some hungry G-league guys. The move with Holiday assures that if you are not part of the future group, it's time to start making changes. Here come the kids! But it remains a balancing act with the messages the new coach and management still want to send. It doesn't happen in just a few weeks without a summer and a training camp.

How much will dunn make with his new contract? 15 million a year? We always hear “what the team and he agree he is worth" but that doesnt equate to good business. See felicio and jabari. Terry rozier is in line for 15-20 million. Dunn isnt that yet but there are a lot of similarities....rozier shoots the three better and dunn has more length though. Imo hes the most important part of this rebuild....he plays defense unlike lavine or markannen. He also carries a ton of risk due to his inabilities to score in the past. Will the bulls give him market value?

Jake Henry

Sam: Pretty much everyone but LaVine is on a tryout given he has a long contract. I suspect given Dunn's injuries and just settling into a regular role almost midway through this season, they'll treat him like Portis and make him an offer and then see if he wants to go to market. I support players who do that since it's their long and hard-earned right. It worked for Butler and not so much for Portis. Maybe Gibson could have gotten a little more money when he accepted the Bulls offer without becoming a restricted free agent, but as a conservative investor, I believe you're best guaranteeing that first set-for-life contract. The Bulls do what every team does: If you want a guarantee early, you have to give up a little. It's good business and fair for the players. Though the larger issue with Dunn remains, as you say, whether does his defensive abilities outweigh his offensive deficiencies? For now with Boylen you'd say he fits better, though he remains a bit too much a ball control guy who doesn't score enough. He needs to become more of a regular offensive threat even if it's not shooting threes. He's getting to the basket better, but he still doesn't get to the free throw line enough for a ball control player. I'd still be uncertain how much of an investment to make. Which also is an issue the Bulls have. How can you establish a player's value if he's never been in a playoff game or played in meaningful games?

This season is becoming so frustrating. I actually miss Hoiberg and Randy Brown. Is Boylen going to start coaching based on the players he has or continue trying to force this style that he's dreamed and understandbly waited for. However you have build your scheme based on the players you have, including Jabari Parker. Zach Lavine is not turning into John Starks (93') over night. But they owe the fans an apology if they are trying to lose games.

Paul Taylor

Sam: Randy will be pleased to hear. He's really dropped out of sight. Maybe not all fans based on some of my mail. I don't think in just a month with a coaching change the future is clear. I do know the Bulls don't want to hopelessly lose games, but it sometimes happens that way. Of course, they'd like a good draft pick and it's pretty likely they'll miss the playoffs and be in the lottery. I know it's popular among some segments of the community to go for the see-you-in-June strategy. But there's still much to be worked out, especially among LaVine, Markkanen and Dunn. It's clear LaVine and Markkanen are the scorers among this group, and I'd focus on LaVine as my No. 1 guy. I know some believe Markkanen has greater potential, but he doesn't create his shot and get to the free throw line like LaVine can. Dunn just doesn't do enough yet to occupy or upset defenses. Markkanen does mostly with stretching the floor with that beautiful shooting stroke. But it appears the elbow injury and two months out set him back. He seems less aggressive than he was the latter part of last season getting to the basket and initiating contact. Some of that obviously is the change in offensive philosophy since when he came back Boylen was taking over. LaVine basically was the offense until then with Markkanen, Dunn, Valentine and Portis out.

I know some see flaws in LaVine with his shots and passing, but I actually heard a lot of the same stuff in the 80s with that Jordan guy; you know, takes selfish shots, doesn't move the ball enough, makes turnovers. Yes, but he could score. No, Zach isn't defending like Jordan, but Zach can score. He can get to the basket better than anyone on the team, creates contact the best, has an excellent shooting touch and can make tough shots and plays for himself better than anyone on the roster. One of the issues the opposition has been taking advantage of has been the rotations. The Bulls lately have employed too many non-shooters when Markkanen and LaVine haven't played together. So the ball swings, but then ends up with Shaquille Harrison or Lopez or Hutchison. I'd force feed LaVine more shots because with Markkanen standing on the perimeter more, LaVine is really the only one who is getting to the line, making those tough shots and whom defenses fear. Then you get others going since Zach will pass. I can see things then becoming somewhat less frustrating. You're trying to develop a star, and LaVine and Markkanen seem the closest now.

In your story on Wendell it's notable that he views himself as a power forward and “short" at 6'-10". It's doubtful if Lauri would ever evolve into a real five if that is even desirable and Portis also seems to be a better fit at the four even at 6'-11". This seems like your power forward comparison to a Kennedy rush hour traffic jam. There have been references to Wendell as a version of Al Horford but do you recall examples of a successful Lauri & Wendell type combo? They are certainly not the Houston Twin Towers. I note that Davis of NOLA also is also listed at 6'-10" and as a four but he seems to be a better leaper/jumper and, for comparison, is a much more experienced six year vet. Ongoing do we need a Lopez type or even Lopez who is only thirty and a helpful vet? Do we wait for a true center in the draft, sign a less expensive free agent to replace Lopez or even trade?

John Petersen

Sam: I agree; the Bulls appear not to be a finished product yet. Remember, there's the upcoming lottery, free agency with perhaps $40 million or more available and players who will come as they are building it. There will be future drafts and trades and free agency, and by my count maybe leaves eight players on the current roster who probably will not be here next season. Wendell will, and I'm still satisfied that even if he doesn't get taller, being 19 years old he will get stronger, smarter and more skilled. I recall Wes Unseld doing pretty well at center against Wilt, Kareem, Reed (who also wasn't particularly tall), Nate Thurmond, Walt Bellamy and Bill Russell (who also wasn't that tall). Wes, by the way, was about 6-6. There are many ways to be effective at center in the NBA. Wendell just hasn't tried many yet. He's not an offensive priority compared with Dunn, LaVine and Markkanen. But he's a keeper.

What are the chances Kevin Durant shocks the world and signs with the Bulls next Summer? I'm thinking of LeBron's 2015 return to Cleveland. Maintaining his legacy and building a career narrative seemed to be the main reasons for his return to Cleveland. Sure, he won the two rings in Miami, but he cemented his legacy and became universally beloved by winning in 2016 for his hometown, blue collar, long-suffering, Midwest city. This came after he was perceived as selfish and preferring the easy way out by teaming up with superstars. Analogous to a KD-to-Chicago scenario perhaps? He still needs a championship that is uniquely his own, as I see it.

Mike Toner

Sam: And LeBron just did say that made him the greatest player ever. I'd have dismissed the Durant scenario, but if Durant can then claim being the greatest ever—really, to paraphrase Jordan, it's a lot easier to make Kevin Love and Kyrie Irving a champion compared to Ryan Arcidiacono and Cristiano Felicio—maybe that's something we hadn't thought about. But seriously I assume the Bulls will pursue top, elite free agents. All they can say is no. But despite the community negativity about the subject, Chicago is one of the three elite metropolitan areas in the country, a franchise with a championship legacy, great facilities, convenient with the arena and practice facility, a major world sports market and pizza that looks like cheese and tomato sauce on Wonder Bread. OK, other than the pizza, a world class place.

I am really sick & tired of the Boo-Birds. Today (reading comments after the Orlando game) I ‘learned' that Boylen is not an NBA coach. He's too negative & pessimistic and can't inspire players… so we need Hoiberg back. I also found out that Zach needs to pass to Lauri and let him take all the shots, or we should get rid of him. (Last night, they both played 28 minutes. Lauri was 6-12. Zach was 6-10 w/ 3 assists.) And of course – as we already knew – Gar/Pax have to go. (I agree. They lost that game. Neither of them scored or rebounded even once.)

Art Alenik

Sam: It is much more difficult to write my Ask Sam after a loss like that which follows several days off. Happy New Years! Perspective is more fleeting. Though they probably won't admit it, I'm sure Bulls employees read some of those fan comment blogs, too. For now I think the abiding belief is that, ‘Well, it's better than if they weren't upset and didn't care.' Caring is good; disappointment is inevitable when you are going through a rebuilding. The same people who call for tanking for a draft pick all season also watch the games and break down the mistakes and losses like the team is contending. It's part of the fan experience. My wife is a big fan of the post game Bears shows during which no matter the amount of the victory, there's relentless outrage to get rid of the quarterback. With the Bulls not doing as well, there isn't as much post game of that sort. But basketball analysis is fair, positive or negative. It's part of the job in sports. As long as it's not personal, I don't see any problem with questioning what anyone does and why. They should be asked to respond and everyone deserves a chance to have their question answered. It's why I answer all my mail; I don't answer Twitter because I can't figure out how it works and it's used by too many subversives. Write me at the Bulls and you get a response. That comes from my years with the Tribune. I know there was no internet then, but we experienced a similar level of anger and stupidity. It didn't come as an attachment to the internet. It's part of the human soul. I always disliked the way the newspaper editors often condescendingly dismissed the public. Hey, we're the First Amendment! Of course, some were rude, but most just wanted an answer. So it's no surprise in some cases why the media becomes a monolith and is condemned as it is despite it being just a bunch of not particularly special people with merely a different skill. Ah, basketball C'mon, where else in the world can the boss get away with—and be asked to—scream at employees throughout the work day and visitors get to boo the workers' results as they occur? This is not a normal business, so it doesn't draw a normal response.

After a game like last night, hard not to think “Man we suck right now." But Jim is now 4-5. Extrapolate to 82 and that almost makes the playoffs in the East. Break up the Bulls?

Chris Granner

Sam: Actually 5-9 since Boylen took over, which translates to 29 wins. They'd won four of the last eight before Wednesday. But they had been showing signs of a disciplined, defensive-oriented game which, even if not always aesthetically pleasing, was producing problems for some good teams. But when playing that way you have to be “on" more often because there are fewer easier shots and less margin for error on defense. Phil Jackson always talked to the team about looking ahead in five-game segments. Win those five, or four, and then go onto the next. In other words, don't look too far ahead, but realize we're playing a season. The Bulls have talent in Markkanen, LaVine and Dunn. The rest of this season has to be about bringing it out.

I love to recognize former Bulls from previous teams and several years ago. These players are still having long term careers and often have found more success playing roles elsewhere. I feel like the Bulls have missed out on opportunities to keep some of these very quality players to build around for extended periods of time and keep a positive reputation around the league. The players that come to mind are: Elton Brand Tyson Chandler (Never should have signed Ben Wallace and TC is still playing) Jamal Crawford (Moved on too quickly) Ron Artest - Needed more time to mature Tabo Selfalosha - Prime prospect Roger Mason Jr/Matt Bonner (Spurs years) Omer Asik (Rockets- should've matched) Kyle Korver (All star w the Hawks, still playing) Tony Snell (Nice reserve role shooter) Spencer Dinwiddie/DJ Augustine (perfect Backup PGs for right now) Taj and Derrick (The ultimate fan favorites and quality guys Jimmy (I understand moving on from him) Trades occur but I feel like Gar Foreman and John Paxson have not been able to fully maximize the potential of the careers of these players and this could've changed the course of our franchise then having to go through the multiple rebuilds and find other guys. Otherwise they Gar/Pax don't bother me. They are excellent at drafting quality players.

Josh King

Sam: Well, how would you feel about Oklahoma City's Sam Presti, who traded James Harden for some reserves and lost Kevin Durant for nothing? And even Jeff Green, who isn't horrible. Talk about blowing your chances for a championship. I got some of this when the great Spencer Dinwiddie had a big game against the Bulls a few weeks back. I always lobbied for Spencer, but he's a marginal starter. And basically is about everyone else on your list. Elton was perhaps the best (other than Rose and Butler for understandable reasons), and Krause's theory was right that you couldn't win ultimately with him. Of course, he couldn't make the playoffs with what he did instead. The point is you need stars to win. While you mention a lot of good players, basically none were even All-Stars, and when they were like Chandler more of a role player. Carlos Boozer was basically more successful than just about everyone on your list. The Bulls still are working on stars; I'm thrilled those guys had careers as most were good people and good players. Often players need a different landscape or role. Some guys I recall traded were Nate Archibald, Charles Barkley, Dave Bing, Dave DeBusschere, Elvin Hayes, Earl Monroe, Lenny Wilkins, Nate Thurmond and Robert Parish, all of whom had top 50 careers. It's about stars.

I seem to be suffering from a malady predominantly seen in Chicago Bulls fans/players, "Basketball Whiplash." In a period of a few days the Bulls go from emphasizing an uptempo, fast-paced offense to a slow-paced, walk-up emphasis on defense. We hire Hoiberg to help us join the popular, uptempo, 3-ball trend. We hire Jabari Parker hoping to ignite his offensive skills to fit this offense as he appears to believe that emphasizing defense is outdated. We are waiting for key players to return from injuries to see if this is going to work. Just before the players return Hoiberg is fired and Boylen is hired. We go into reverse emphasizing defense and a slow tempo basketball style. Jabari Parker is out of the rotation. Players appear lost in this abrupt change in philosophy. I wonder if you are also suffering from Basketball Whiplash?

Bruce Roberts

Sam: Change isn't easy for anyone. Really, when they keep asking you to change your password. Who really remembers?

Source: https://www.nba.com/bulls/news/ask-sam-mailbag-010419

[arrowreport7-blog]

Ask Sam Mailbag: 01.04.19

I'll start off by saying nothing changes if nothing changes. I would like to see some changes. I was thrilled to get Parker. At the time the legend Of Chicago high school basketball was second on the team in scoring behind Zach Lavine. Suddenly Portis comes, Hoiberg is gone, and apparently so is Jabari. Teams seem willing to put up with a player who seldom scores as long as he plays defense, so why is it so hard to stick with a guy like Jabari who can score? I don't understand why we're not playing him at all. The kid is bound to have limitations after two surgeries. If his defense is suspect, don't coaches teach anymore? Tell him, show him, teach what you want him to do on defense. What did they see when they signed him for $20 million a year that they don't see now?? The starting lineup and the rotation has made no changes either. Holiday still starts even though he struggling. Carter still start even though he always gets into early fall trouble. If he came off the bench he could watch and learn for six or seven minutes and then go in against their subs not their starters. I suppose like anybody else maybe we are setting the stage to get Zion. What a huge huge huge move that would be for the Bulls or anyone who would get him. If we are trying to get lottery and first round draft picks, I get that. But I would also like to see a team that would make that guy want to be here.

Jo Morrison

Sam: And you wrote before the Orlando game, so it's without as much rancor. It's pretty obvious now that Parker isn't playing after they substituted Benny the Bull, the Red Panda and the quick dress lady into the game ahead of Parker Wednesday. Actually there is change despite what you note; just not the sort of changes you would like for now. We see this often, and it recently occurred with old buddies Luol Deng and Joakim Noah. They signed long-term contracts. And then managements changed in both places with a new philosophy, and nether played for two years until they basically were released. Jabari likely still would be playing with Fred Hoiberg, who wasn't thrilled with Jabari's defensive transition, but accepted, as you note, the tradeoff with his offense. But Jim Boylen has made clear he's coaching differently, focusing on defense and inside/outside offense (in theory) and a more deliberate pace and measured offense. Plus, Parker also apparently is being used as something of cautionary tale to the rest of the team. Play this way or don't play at all. So the team Parker was hired for no longer exists. The Bulls anticipated it to an extent with the one year guarantee. After all, Deng and Noah had four-year guarantees. Though your suggestions also illustrate the complex issues of starting over again with the same roster without a training camp. You say sit Wendell Carter Jr, but that means start Lopez, who presumably is not part of the team's future. So they really shouldn't want to do that. Felicio? Not as a starter, I presume. Maybe dip into the G-league from the smoking hot Windy City Bulls (six straight wins) for some guys to look at if they're not playing Parker? And now with Justin Holiday traded I suspect we see Chandler Hutchison a lot. I don't fully get why Parker is on the active roster, anyway, if he's not playing and apparently not going to. Though what you hit on clearly is the enigma wrapped in a riddle and all that. There's still a lot of sorting out to do, and the three everyone hopes eventually add a Big prefix just started playing together a week ago.

Let's give credit where credit is due! Garpax just acquired two borderline NBA players and two second round draft picks for Justin Holiday. Justin Holiday is an ideal teammate, a model citizen, and a smart player. So Memphis hit the jackpot if they're looking for a Scalabrine type for the end of the bench. If they're looking for a basketball player, they should keep looking. In 22 out of 38 games this season Justin Holiday shot below 40% from the field. And he shoots 7 threes a game! This is a man that can single handedly bring down your team shooting percentage on any given night. I, for one, am glad he's gone. But I'm sure Boylen is crushed and trying to find creative ways to play Robin Lopez at the 3.

Yuriy Fomin

Sam: Let's not be too hard on Justin since he did also learn to play the guitar on the road. Plus the guy made himself into at least an NBA specialist, and no one much thought he could in Europe, the G-league and a half dozen teams. You know he's got to be moving into Graceland, or at least heartbreak hotel with his guitar. I can understand that Boylen was trying to make his coaching case by winning some games, but he was playing Holiday way too much. In fact, the Bulls seemed to run a curl screen play to shoot a three on top for Holiday out of timeouts more than for anyone else. Enough of that! Management doesn't dictate to coaches who to play—or isn't supposed to—but they can get rid of guys being used too much. It's time for Hutchison, shaky offense and all, to play, and play more as he was playing well the other night in Toronto and then sat out the end of the game. Now you assume Hutchison will start, and whether it looks like a run to the lottery, it's the right thing to do for where and who this Bulls team is now. I'm assuming Lopez is next unless he starts making threes like his brother.

What is your prediction on what the bulls do with: Parker - will they trade him out for something? Or hold until the end of the season and not renew? Gee the Bulls management handled this situation terribly. Should have sugar coated him and played him but from the bench. Now we have driven his value to rock bottom. Lopez - see no logic in a buyout. Might as well clear him at seasons end Holiday - also Rock bottom value and don't see a valuable asset to trade him out for his 4.5 mil Portis - the best of the bunch but we have probably seen his ceiling. Hopefully offer him a lesser contract than earlier or a higher salary (12 mil/yr) but on a 2 yr deal. I was so excited at the start of the season. Now we'll be looking at a no.5-6 pick in an average draft.

Andrew Brown

Sam: At least no New Year's resolutions. I suspect they work out a deal with Portis. Having two injuries like he's had and missing almost half the season probably has been sobering for him. I suspect he'll be a bit more accommodating in negotiations. And he'll still be wealthier than any of us ever are. So no feeling sorry. Parker's fate seems determined. Holiday is no longer a part of the team, as anticipated given the likelihood he wasn't part of the future plan, and Lopez figures to be next. Perhaps Lopez could return at a reasonable price given he's a popular teammate and a tough guy with size. Though he may not want that mentor role quite yet. He'll be more difficult to trade given he makes $14.3 million and the Bulls would have to take back that much salary. Lopez didn't much like the post-All Star last year of seeing the kids. He wants to play. But does it make any sense if he's not going forward? Wendell Carter Jr. ended up with just 13 minutes against Orlando, which was probably an aberration. That's not likely to happen again. I didn't think he played that badly; or at least not so poorly as to stand out among others. He dealt with it amazingly well for a 19-year-old, and though he has had some issues with all these huge guys he's had to play, he's also suffered because the Bulls haven't been emphasizing offensive options for him. They will. The other side of it is understandable. There's a new coach and he wants to win some games to show he is deserving. That's certainly natural. Plus, he wants to win some games and make a point (defensively) in the name of that culture thing.

You want your young players in close games and have a chance to develop habits when the game is being contested. Yes, it would be great to get a top college kid. Really, really great. But it's hardly guaranteed with the bottom three teams having the same odds for the top pick, about 14 percent. Even if you have the fifth poorest record, you have a 10.5 percent chance for the top pick instead of 14 with the poorest record. Is that worth throwing away an entire season? Though with these trades the Bulls may be more so on that path. It is coming time to keep Carter and Chandler Hutchison in games and perhaps get a look at some hungry G-league guys. The move with Holiday assures that if you are not part of the future group, it's time to start making changes. Here come the kids! But it remains a balancing act with the messages the new coach and management still want to send. It doesn't happen in just a few weeks without a summer and a training camp.

How much will dunn make with his new contract? 15 million a year? We always hear “what the team and he agree he is worth" but that doesnt equate to good business. See felicio and jabari. Terry rozier is in line for 15-20 million. Dunn isnt that yet but there are a lot of similarities....rozier shoots the three better and dunn has more length though. Imo hes the most important part of this rebuild....he plays defense unlike lavine or markannen. He also carries a ton of risk due to his inabilities to score in the past. Will the bulls give him market value?

Jake Henry

Sam: Pretty much everyone but LaVine is on a tryout given he has a long contract. I suspect given Dunn's injuries and just settling into a regular role almost midway through this season, they'll treat him like Portis and make him an offer and then see if he wants to go to market. I support players who do that since it's their long and hard-earned right. It worked for Butler and not so much for Portis. Maybe Gibson could have gotten a little more money when he accepted the Bulls offer without becoming a restricted free agent, but as a conservative investor, I believe you're best guaranteeing that first set-for-life contract. The Bulls do what every team does: If you want a guarantee early, you have to give up a little. It's good business and fair for the players. Though the larger issue with Dunn remains, as you say, whether does his defensive abilities outweigh his offensive deficiencies? For now with Boylen you'd say he fits better, though he remains a bit too much a ball control guy who doesn't score enough. He needs to become more of a regular offensive threat even if it's not shooting threes. He's getting to the basket better, but he still doesn't get to the free throw line enough for a ball control player. I'd still be uncertain how much of an investment to make. Which also is an issue the Bulls have. How can you establish a player's value if he's never been in a playoff game or played in meaningful games?

This season is becoming so frustrating. I actually miss Hoiberg and Randy Brown. Is Boylen going to start coaching based on the players he has or continue trying to force this style that he's dreamed and understandbly waited for. However you have build your scheme based on the players you have, including Jabari Parker. Zach Lavine is not turning into John Starks (93') over night. But they owe the fans an apology if they are trying to lose games.

Paul Taylor

Sam: Randy will be pleased to hear. He's really dropped out of sight. Maybe not all fans based on some of my mail. I don't think in just a month with a coaching change the future is clear. I do know the Bulls don't want to hopelessly lose games, but it sometimes happens that way. Of course, they'd like a good draft pick and it's pretty likely they'll miss the playoffs and be in the lottery. I know it's popular among some segments of the community to go for the see-you-in-June strategy. But there's still much to be worked out, especially among LaVine, Markkanen and Dunn. It's clear LaVine and Markkanen are the scorers among this group, and I'd focus on LaVine as my No. 1 guy. I know some believe Markkanen has greater potential, but he doesn't create his shot and get to the free throw line like LaVine can. Dunn just doesn't do enough yet to occupy or upset defenses. Markkanen does mostly with stretching the floor with that beautiful shooting stroke. But it appears the elbow injury and two months out set him back. He seems less aggressive than he was the latter part of last season getting to the basket and initiating contact. Some of that obviously is the change in offensive philosophy since when he came back Boylen was taking over. LaVine basically was the offense until then with Markkanen, Dunn, Valentine and Portis out.

I know some see flaws in LaVine with his shots and passing, but I actually heard a lot of the same stuff in the 80s with that Jordan guy; you know, takes selfish shots, doesn't move the ball enough, makes turnovers. Yes, but he could score. No, Zach isn't defending like Jordan, but Zach can score. He can get to the basket better than anyone on the team, creates contact the best, has an excellent shooting touch and can make tough shots and plays for himself better than anyone on the roster. One of the issues the opposition has been taking advantage of has been the rotations. The Bulls lately have employed too many non-shooters when Markkanen and LaVine haven't played together. So the ball swings, but then ends up with Shaquille Harrison or Lopez or Hutchison. I'd force feed LaVine more shots because with Markkanen standing on the perimeter more, LaVine is really the only one who is getting to the line, making those tough shots and whom defenses fear. Then you get others going since Zach will pass. I can see things then becoming somewhat less frustrating. You're trying to develop a star, and LaVine and Markkanen seem the closest now.

In your story on Wendell it's notable that he views himself as a power forward and “short" at 6'-10". It's doubtful if Lauri would ever evolve into a real five if that is even desirable and Portis also seems to be a better fit at the four even at 6'-11". This seems like your power forward comparison to a Kennedy rush hour traffic jam. There have been references to Wendell as a version of Al Horford but do you recall examples of a successful Lauri & Wendell type combo? They are certainly not the Houston Twin Towers. I note that Davis of NOLA also is also listed at 6'-10" and as a four but he seems to be a better leaper/jumper and, for comparison, is a much more experienced six year vet. Ongoing do we need a Lopez type or even Lopez who is only thirty and a helpful vet? Do we wait for a true center in the draft, sign a less expensive free agent to replace Lopez or even trade?

John Petersen

Sam: I agree; the Bulls appear not to be a finished product yet. Remember, there's the upcoming lottery, free agency with perhaps $40 million or more available and players who will come as they are building it. There will be future drafts and trades and free agency, and by my count maybe leaves eight players on the current roster who probably will not be here next season. Wendell will, and I'm still satisfied that even if he doesn't get taller, being 19 years old he will get stronger, smarter and more skilled. I recall Wes Unseld doing pretty well at center against Wilt, Kareem, Reed (who also wasn't particularly tall), Nate Thurmond, Walt Bellamy and Bill Russell (who also wasn't that tall). Wes, by the way, was about 6-6. There are many ways to be effective at center in the NBA. Wendell just hasn't tried many yet. He's not an offensive priority compared with Dunn, LaVine and Markkanen. But he's a keeper.

What are the chances Kevin Durant shocks the world and signs with the Bulls next Summer? I'm thinking of LeBron's 2015 return to Cleveland. Maintaining his legacy and building a career narrative seemed to be the main reasons for his return to Cleveland. Sure, he won the two rings in Miami, but he cemented his legacy and became universally beloved by winning in 2016 for his hometown, blue collar, long-suffering, Midwest city. This came after he was perceived as selfish and preferring the easy way out by teaming up with superstars. Analogous to a KD-to-Chicago scenario perhaps? He still needs a championship that is uniquely his own, as I see it.

Mike Toner

Sam: And LeBron just did say that made him the greatest player ever. I'd have dismissed the Durant scenario, but if Durant can then claim being the greatest ever—really, to paraphrase Jordan, it's a lot easier to make Kevin Love and Kyrie Irving a champion compared to Ryan Arcidiacono and Cristiano Felicio—maybe that's something we hadn't thought about. But seriously I assume the Bulls will pursue top, elite free agents. All they can say is no. But despite the community negativity about the subject, Chicago is one of the three elite metropolitan areas in the country, a franchise with a championship legacy, great facilities, convenient with the arena and practice facility, a major world sports market and pizza that looks like cheese and tomato sauce on Wonder Bread. OK, other than the pizza, a world class place.

I am really sick & tired of the Boo-Birds. Today (reading comments after the Orlando game) I ‘learned' that Boylen is not an NBA coach. He's too negative & pessimistic and can't inspire players… so we need Hoiberg back. I also found out that Zach needs to pass to Lauri and let him take all the shots, or we should get rid of him. (Last night, they both played 28 minutes. Lauri was 6-12. Zach was 6-10 w/ 3 assists.) And of course – as we already knew – Gar/Pax have to go. (I agree. They lost that game. Neither of them scored or rebounded even once.)

Art Alenik

Sam: It is much more difficult to write my Ask Sam after a loss like that which follows several days off. Happy New Years! Perspective is more fleeting. Though they probably won't admit it, I'm sure Bulls employees read some of those fan comment blogs, too. For now I think the abiding belief is that, ‘Well, it's better than if they weren't upset and didn't care.' Caring is good; disappointment is inevitable when you are going through a rebuilding. The same people who call for tanking for a draft pick all season also watch the games and break down the mistakes and losses like the team is contending. It's part of the fan experience. My wife is a big fan of the post game Bears shows during which no matter the amount of the victory, there's relentless outrage to get rid of the quarterback. With the Bulls not doing as well, there isn't as much post game of that sort. But basketball analysis is fair, positive or negative. It's part of the job in sports. As long as it's not personal, I don't see any problem with questioning what anyone does and why. They should be asked to respond and everyone deserves a chance to have their question answered. It's why I answer all my mail; I don't answer Twitter because I can't figure out how it works and it's used by too many subversives. Write me at the Bulls and you get a response. That comes from my years with the Tribune. I know there was no internet then, but we experienced a similar level of anger and stupidity. It didn't come as an attachment to the internet. It's part of the human soul. I always disliked the way the newspaper editors often condescendingly dismissed the public. Hey, we're the First Amendment! Of course, some were rude, but most just wanted an answer. So it's no surprise in some cases why the media becomes a monolith and is condemned as it is despite it being just a bunch of not particularly special people with merely a different skill. Ah, basketball C'mon, where else in the world can the boss get away with—and be asked to—scream at employees throughout the work day and visitors get to boo the workers' results as they occur? This is not a normal business, so it doesn't draw a normal response.

After a game like last night, hard not to think “Man we suck right now." But Jim is now 4-5. Extrapolate to 82 and that almost makes the playoffs in the East. Break up the Bulls?

Chris Granner

Sam: Actually 5-9 since Boylen took over, which translates to 29 wins. They'd won four of the last eight before Wednesday. But they had been showing signs of a disciplined, defensive-oriented game which, even if not always aesthetically pleasing, was producing problems for some good teams. But when playing that way you have to be “on" more often because there are fewer easier shots and less margin for error on defense. Phil Jackson always talked to the team about looking ahead in five-game segments. Win those five, or four, and then go onto the next. In other words, don't look too far ahead, but realize we're playing a season. The Bulls have talent in Markkanen, LaVine and Dunn. The rest of this season has to be about bringing it out.

I love to recognize former Bulls from previous teams and several years ago. These players are still having long term careers and often have found more success playing roles elsewhere. I feel like the Bulls have missed out on opportunities to keep some of these very quality players to build around for extended periods of time and keep a positive reputation around the league. The players that come to mind are: Elton Brand Tyson Chandler (Never should have signed Ben Wallace and TC is still playing) Jamal Crawford (Moved on too quickly) Ron Artest - Needed more time to mature Tabo Selfalosha - Prime prospect Roger Mason Jr/Matt Bonner (Spurs years) Omer Asik (Rockets- should've matched) Kyle Korver (All star w the Hawks, still playing) Tony Snell (Nice reserve role shooter) Spencer Dinwiddie/DJ Augustine (perfect Backup PGs for right now) Taj and Derrick (The ultimate fan favorites and quality guys Jimmy (I understand moving on from him) Trades occur but I feel like Gar Foreman and John Paxson have not been able to fully maximize the potential of the careers of these players and this could've changed the course of our franchise then having to go through the multiple rebuilds and find other guys. Otherwise they Gar/Pax don't bother me. They are excellent at drafting quality players.

Josh King

Sam: Well, how would you feel about Oklahoma City's Sam Presti, who traded James Harden for some reserves and lost Kevin Durant for nothing? And even Jeff Green, who isn't horrible. Talk about blowing your chances for a championship. I got some of this when the great Spencer Dinwiddie had a big game against the Bulls a few weeks back. I always lobbied for Spencer, but he's a marginal starter. And basically is about everyone else on your list. Elton was perhaps the best (other than Rose and Butler for understandable reasons), and Krause's theory was right that you couldn't win ultimately with him. Of course, he couldn't make the playoffs with what he did instead. The point is you need stars to win. While you mention a lot of good players, basically none were even All-Stars, and when they were like Chandler more of a role player. Carlos Boozer was basically more successful than just about everyone on your list. The Bulls still are working on stars; I'm thrilled those guys had careers as most were good people and good players. Often players need a different landscape or role. Some guys I recall traded were Nate Archibald, Charles Barkley, Dave Bing, Dave DeBusschere, Elvin Hayes, Earl Monroe, Lenny Wilkins, Nate Thurmond and Robert Parish, all of whom had top 50 careers. It's about stars.

I seem to be suffering from a malady predominantly seen in Chicago Bulls fans/players, "Basketball Whiplash." In a period of a few days the Bulls go from emphasizing an uptempo, fast-paced offense to a slow-paced, walk-up emphasis on defense. We hire Hoiberg to help us join the popular, uptempo, 3-ball trend. We hire Jabari Parker hoping to ignite his offensive skills to fit this offense as he appears to believe that emphasizing defense is outdated. We are waiting for key players to return from injuries to see if this is going to work. Just before the players return Hoiberg is fired and Boylen is hired. We go into reverse emphasizing defense and a slow tempo basketball style. Jabari Parker is out of the rotation. Players appear lost in this abrupt change in philosophy. I wonder if you are also suffering from Basketball Whiplash?

Bruce Roberts

Sam: Change isn't easy for anyone. Really, when they keep asking you to change your password. Who really remembers?

Source: https://www.nba.com/bulls/news/ask-sam-mailbag-010419

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I just started playing Cherry Tree High Comedy Club: I! MY! Girls!, the very strangely named sequel to the original CTHCC! So far, its pretty damn good!

Its a little odd though, the original was a visual novel with a LOT of gameplay involvement. It had explorable locations and a persona-esque skill training and befriending system to recruit all the friends to your comedy club. It was great! But then the sequel is a ‘kinetic novel’ thats literally just like a long movie without even any form of choices. All you do is have a few pause points every now and again, with it split up into a series of ‘episodes’. I suppose its an interesting way to deliver a story but its not really a ‘game’ anymore. I dont get it! And it sucks that the original was SO interactive that its even more of a huge change than just the difference between this and regular visual novels. Tho just to be clear, I don’t hate this sort of genre, I just really liked the original’s life sim aspects and I prefer that sort of thing. I’m still happy to see more epilogue spinoff adventures with mairu and co! it feels so nostalgic!

I really like the new teacher character, even though i find it weird that she wasn’t in the previous one if she existed this whole time! Did we even see a single teacher character before? O_O She has really hella handsome butch fashion, she looks like she stepped right out of a masquerade ball at Pride! And she goes to work EVERY DAY like this, I bet all her coworkers just keep fainting at the sight of her, holy shit... And besides just being a very nice character design, she also has a suprisingly heartwarming plot of being the mentor to the Grinmeisters, the comedy duo that inspired Mairu to start the club in the first game. She tells it as a cautionary tale, she feels like she failed those girls by encouraging them too much in their dreams. They lost all their friends because everyone resented them for being talented and famous, and then they dropped out of school early to get a career in showbiz. In one way, they were happy, but ol teach feels like there must have been a way that they could have achieved their dreams without losing their childhood in the process... So its really exciting that this teacher is gonna be the supervisor to the club, she’s only just been introduced and we already know she’s like The Ultimate Embodiment Of Grumpy Good, and she’s gonna make damn sure to help these kids avoid the same tragedy! Also i just didnt expect such a deep plot about the actual realities of pursuing a career in entertainment. This series manages to have a lot of good emotional moments behind all the funnyness!