#because he like. Physically flakes out from being in the mirror plane of where he's supposed to be etc. He CANT hide it

[rivilu]

Nurse come in, the fey nerd is getting emotional over the implications of the 'speak no falsehoods' rule again

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I know it's a lot! But all of the 65 questions you aren't used to!! I love getting to know the blogs I follow!

Okay love! The last one was a freebie so I guess I’ll just leave that one out haha.

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Na, usually it’s the opposite for me. I don’t feel important enough to be real.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

Maybe a 3? I don’t mind the dark as long as my imagination isn’t getting the best of me, which it usually is. I always have my little touch-activated lamp in my room left on at the dimmest setting at night.

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Donald Trump.

4. What is your favorite word?

Drumonios. It’s an Ancient Greek epithet of Artemis, and it means “haunting the woods.” (hey, no one said English word)

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

*in Monty Python voice* THE LARCH

No, but in all seriousness, I’d be a willow. So gentle and comforting, like the tree leaning over to hug you and give you shade.

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

Yikes.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

A black shirt with images of moon phases that says “to the moon and back”

8. What do you label yourself as?

Is this a gender/sexual identity question??? Cuz if not I could label myself as anything. But genderwise I’m a cis female and orientation-wise I’m lesbian, biromantic, possibly somewhere on the ace spectrum?

9. Bright room or dark room?

Dark room. Or mostly dark. Dim with a yellowish lamp because I hate white lights.

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Talking to my gf on the phone.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

tbh this year, 19. My anxiety’s been better than it ever was. I haven’t been actively suicidal at all this year. I’m just in a better place all around.

12. Who told you they loved you last?

Probably my mom?

13. Your worst enemy?

Myself

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

Romantically? My girlfriend. In general? Everyone who hasn’t crossed me.

16. The last song you listened to?

Right now I’m listening to LA Devotee by Panic! At The Disco :)

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Donald Trump, while he’s in a cabinet meeting so it blows up everyone else there too

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Donald Trump or my ex

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

I don’t really want a slave? Kinda against the whole idea? But ig Thomas Jefferson bc he needs to know what it feels like (Hamilton pettiness coming out oops)

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My eyes! Idk if I have a picture that shows them really well? But you can check my selfies tag. They’re deep hazel green with gold flecks.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I would look like historical Alexander Hamilton and I would hang out in history museums freaking people out.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

Wouldn’t be a secret if I told you. ;) But seriously, I’m not very private about my talents because I’m proud of them. I write, read, make up codes, solve puzzles, sing, do calligraphy. Sometimes my eyeshadow looks decent.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

Most of the unique things are PTSD triggers. The rest of my fears are just normal.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Grilled mac and cheese sandwich.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Put it towards saving up for a Switch so I can get the new Pokemon game when it comes out this fall.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

The British Isles, where I will do historical tours and live in the Highlands for a year.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

I don’t drink, I’m pretty against it in part because my uncle’s a recovering alcoholic, but I’d say strawberry daquiris? Idk brands, man.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Socialism and if you’re gonna mess up the process and turn it into communism then you’re off the island.

29. What is your favorite expletive?

Fuckweasel. Thanks, Raven Cycle.

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My phone I guess?

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Nothing. As much as I hate what I’ve been through (assault by my ex, manipulation by my dad) it’s taught me so much strength and made me who I am. I know red flags. I came out of my shell. I know how to say no, how to cut out toxic family.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

Scotland.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

FDR. We have a polio vaccine and he was my favorite president.

34. What was your last dream about?

I was doing a crossword puzzle but, like, it never ended. And the clues kept changing every time I started to write the answer. It sucked.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

Nothing was inserted haha so yes. I am a good.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

Twice. Once as a baby for my open heart surgery, and once when I was 4 for severe dehydration from the flu.

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Yes but it’s been like 13 years.

38. What is the color of your socks?

Light blue and white stripes.

39. What type of music do you like?

Pop, rock, folk, Celtic, classical, old country, like, Woodie Guthrie, and some new country like Kelsea Ballerini.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

SUNSETS

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Cherry!

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

Um, I guess the OSU Buckeyes cuz that’s where I live and I hate pro football.

43. Do you have any scars?

I have a huge scar down my chest from my heart surgery, a few self harm scars left, and quite a few from old cat scratches. Also my left knee is covered with scars from being a clumsy child. And I have small birthmarks which correlate to past life injuries which is fun

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

A librarian/history or English teacher

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

My weight.

46. Are you reliable?

Sometimes I flake on plans bc of mental illness, but yes. I am a strong shoulder to lean on, and I will always be there for you.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Am I trying for the right things?

48. Do you hold grudges?

Not consciously. But there are certain things I haven’t been able to forgive just yet.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

Sloth dragon. Sloth with little back scales and wings who flies very slowly and breathes fire when threatened.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

My mom and I have the funniest conversations. I couldn’t pick one. Every day between us is just hysterical.

51. Are you a good liar?

Yes. But I don’t lie anymore except when I have to.

52. How long could you go without talking?

Probably forever as long as I could write or text.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

When I was 9 I decided to get a shoulder length bob. My hair did not approve. Constant white-fro. I don’t have a picture of it full glory, but this is after having it styled, at age 11, as flat as it would go.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

Noooo I suck at baking. I’ve made cookies though.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

British, I guess? I do a good Hermione.

56. What do you like on your toast?

Butter lmao I’m classic

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Uhhh I sketched a flower on my church bulletin last week? Nothing fancy. I don’t draw.

58. What would be you dream car?

‘67 Impala baby.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I, uh give political speeches to the showerhead? It’s the Hamilton mood.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

I definitely believe we can’t live in a universe infinitely big all by ourselves.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

I don’t read my actual horoscope, but I look at those zodiac posts a lot, and I know my full birth chart.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

A and S.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Both. Dinsoaurs could have been dragons, we don’t know.

64. What do you think about babies?

They’re okay til they cry or poop or throw up lmao.

Thanks bb!

[sleemo]

Rian Johnson on the evolution of the Force in 'Star Wars: The Last Jedi' and more spoilers

Who is Snoke, anyway? Has Kylo Ren ever kissed a girl? Rian Johnson answers the burning ‘Star Wars: The Last Jedi’ questions. — LA Times | Dec 18, 2017

As Obi-Wan Kenobi once told young Luke Skywalker, “The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It’s an energy field created by all living things — it surrounds us, and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together.”

Ever since Tatooine’s favorite farm boy learned about the Force, “Star Wars” fans have devoured every bit of the universe that’s come alive in the galaxy far, far away over the course of eight movies and counting.

But in Disney’s weekend box-office smash “Star Wars: The Last Jedi,” writer-director Rian Johnson (“Brick,” “Looper”) takes bold leaps and shakes up the “Star Wars” universe, sending “Force Awakens” heroes Rey (Daisy Ridley), Finn (John Boyega), and Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) further into the fight between light and dark with one surprise after another.

How much does “The Last Jedi” redefine the rules of Force physics as we know it — and what do these tantalizing new possibilities mean for the future of “Star Wars?” Who is Snoke, anyway? What exactly can Force ghosts do from beyond the astral plane? Has Kylo Ren ever kissed a girl?

Back in Los Angeles between globe-trotting appearances, a week after his star-studded premiere, Johnson answered all these burning “Star Wars” questions and more. Heavy spoiler warning: Best to read after watching “Star Wars: The Last Jedi.”

“The Last Jedi” takes much of what we all thought we knew about this 40-year-old franchise and how the rules of the Force work, and expands them in some wild new ways. Knowing the doors you were going to open, what were your consultations like with Lucasfilm’s in-house protectors of the canon while writing the script?

There is a man named Pablo Hidalgo who is the sweetest dude in the universe, and he’s one of several keepers of the flame at Lucasfilm. It would always be a conversation, and if the story required it and if it felt like it stretches into new territory but doesn’t break the idea of what the Force can do, Pablo was down — I got the blessing.

The evolution of Rey’s relationship with Kylo Ren takes an intense and pivotal turn in “The Last Jedi.” We learn that Supreme Leader Snoke has linked them through the Force, as if he were connecting a call at a switchboard — an idea thematically mirrored in Poe’s “bad connection” scene with Hux earlier in the film. Where did that idea originate?

It was always through the demands of the story. With the Force connections between Rey and Kylo I thought, “OK, I need to get these two talking. But if I put them face to face they’re going to either fight, or one of them has to be tied up” —

Well, they could also make out …

They could also make out! I’m going to give you a spinoff movie …

Even if they make out, then they can’t be talking. So I knew I wanted them to talk, and to talk enough to where we could go from ���I hate you,” to her being forced to actually engage with him. That’s where the idea of these “Force connections” came from, which is kind of a new thing. It’s a little bit of a riff on what happens with Vader and Luke at the end of “The Empire Strikes Back,” but it’s entirely new in some regards.

I’ve got a catchy name for Rey and Kylo’s sexy “Force connection” sessions for you: “ForceTime.”

[Laughs] I’ve heard “Force Skyping,” but that’s good! I’ve got to talk to Apple. There’s a real big co-branding opportunity here.

Some of these revelatory new Force possibilities might be challenging for fans to accept. Are they such a stretch within “Star Wars” science and the greater franchise?

The truth is, because “Star Wars” until “The Force Awakens” has been set in amber and we hadn’t had a new “Star Wars” movie in 10 years, you forget that they were introducing new Force stuff with each movie, based on the requirements of the story. Force-grabbing didn’t come around until “Empire,” it wasn’t in “A New Hope.” Same with Force ghosts. They’d introduce new ideas of what could happen with the Force each time.

After the climactic battle on the salt planet Crait we learn Luke was projecting himself from his island the whole time. How does that scene rewrite the rules of the Force? Could a Force user projecting themselves physically influence the world around them, not just the minds of others?

That’s a question. When Luke shows up he’s projecting, it’s like a hardcore variation of what Kylo and Rey have been doing the whole time and that’s why it takes so much out of him. In the version that we play, no. We tried to play really, really fair. In terms of his footsteps – we removed all of his foley — there are no footstep sounds. They never touch. And if you look, the salt flakes that are falling are sparking off of Kylo’s saber and not off of Luke’s.

What about Force ghosts and the suggestion that Jedi masters wield even more previously unknown powers from beyond the grave? Can powerful Force users create physical, tangible manifestations?

The one point where we do introduce a bit of a twist in terms of Force ghosts is where Yoda calls down the lightning onto the tree. That, I think, is a tantalizing hint of the potential of someone who is a Force ghost interacting with the real world.

Hypothetically speaking, can dark Force users become Force ghosts?

I think that would be interesting. We haven’t seen them in the movies as far as I can remember. But that would be really interesting considering the dark side is about self-preservation, trying to find immortality, and the notion that the light side actually got to it through selflessness — what would the dark side version of that look like? There’s so much cool [stuff] to think about if you’re willing to open your head a little bit!

Another surprise in this film is seeing Leia use her latent Force powers after decades of being the Skywalker twin who doesn’t wield the Force. Why was that an important parting gift to give both Leia and Carrie Fisher?

That was something Kathy [Kennedy] was always asking: Why has this never manifested in Leia? She obviously made a choice, because in “Return of the Jedi” Luke tells her, “You have that power too.” I liked the idea that it’s not Luke concentrating, reaching for the lightsaber; it’s an instinctual survival thing, like when you hear stories of a parent whose toddler is caught under a car and they get superhuman strength, or a drowning person clawing their way to the surface. It’s basically just her not being done with the fight yet.

I wanted it to happen [for Carrie] and I knew it was going to be a stretch. It’s a big moment, and I’m sure it will land different ways for different people, but for me it felt like a really emotionally satisfying thing to see.

Han’s dice are a nice touch that resonates with Luke, Leia and Kylo, not to mention the fans, and a callback to how he got the Millennium Falcon in the first place.

When I wrote it, it was something that was in “The Force Awakens.” I think they shot it and didn’t end up using it: When Han comes onto the Falcon, he takes his dice out of his pocket and hangs them back up, like, “This is mine again.” When it got pulled out [of “The Force Awakens”] I thought, even if it’s not directly set up I think you’ll get it that these are Han’s dice. The notion that they get used different ways ending with Kylo, I liked.

Fans have been obsessed with Snoke’s origins since “The Force Awakens,” and while we get to know him much more in “The Last Jedi,” you don’t necessarily give that answer. Does it matter who he was?

Not in this story it doesn’t, which is not to say it wouldn’t be interesting — they might explore it in the next movie or elsewhere. I wrote this script before “The Force Awakens” came out, so when I wrote it, the “Who is Snoke?” mania hadn’t arisen with the fans yet. Even if it had, my perspective is it’s similar to how the Emperor was handled. The first three movies you know nothing about the Emperor because you don’t have to, because that’s not the story. You know exactly what you need to know. Whereas in the prequels, you know everything about him because that is the story.

In this movie, Rey doesn’t really care where he comes from, so if in any of their scenes he had stopped and done a 30-second monologue about how he is [Darth] Plagueis or whoever, Rey would have blinked and looked confused and the scene would have gone on … and we would have ended up cutting it in the editing room because it doesn’t matter to the story right now.

Why does it matter, then, who Rey’s parents are — the idea that she doesn’t come from a lineage of “special” Jedi kin?

It felt like the way to go because it’s the hardest thing that she could possibly hear. It would be the easy thing for her to be defined by, “yes, this is how you fit into this story — it’s because your parent is so and so!” In that moment, for Kylo to be able to use that [information] as a knife and twist it to try and get what he wants, felt like the most dramatically potent option.

Please explain the dramatic necessity of giving Kylo Ren a shirtless scene.

At the premiere I heard somebody in the balcony say, “Yesssss!” You can see Adam was training hardcore throughout the whole process. It’s fun but it also has a specific purpose, which is the increasing feeling of uncomfortable intimacy. That was sticking with the theme of trying to give Rey the hardest thing you could possibly give her, which would be unavoidable intimate conversation with this person that she wants to just hate. This was just one more way of upping that ante.

So … is this the first time Kylo has ever held hands with a girl?

I actually talked about that with Adam [Driver]. Adam was like, “So … have I actually kissed a girl before?” I would think maybe he has. Maybe after hours in the Jedi camp, there was a game of spin the bottle — “spin the lightsaber…”

— LA Times

[abitoflit]

Doc vs. Challenger

Character, “one of the attributes or features that make up and distinguish an individual,” (Merriam-Webster). If we were devoid of our traits, personality, and other attributes; we would fail to be distinct. We would be bland individuals who lacked depth. Therefore, when authors pen their work, they strive to imitate human nature by weaving some of man’s more common characteristics into their stories. They try to create “realistic” characters, which their readers can relate to and sympathize with because that is in part, what keeps their readers engaged. Doc Savage, from Kenneth Robeson’s novel, Doc Savage: The Land of Terror is written in such a way as to suggest that Robeson sought to engross his readers by creating a protagonist, which possessed the qualities of a “superhero.” This is due to the fact that it would appear as though Doc is good at everything—he is knowledgeable in a number of different fields such as chemistry and biology, can hypnotize people with his eyes, fly a plane, hold his breath underwater for extended periods of time, etc. Furthermore, he has the body of a Greek god, is physically strong, and an excellent fighter. He is also extremely agile, has keen senses, is modest, and polite. He travels the world with a group of friends and doesn’t seem to have any true flaws or weaknesses. Therefore, readers are bound to find some way to relate to him as there are many different aspects to be found within his character to which one can draw a connection. However, his “overabundance” of positive traits and interests transforms Doc Savage into an otherworldly, bland character because he is the “perfect, static character.” Nothing appears as though it presents a true challenge to him. In sharp contrast, the “ape-like” Professor Challenger from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World is an imperfect a being as they come. He proves to be a more complex and dynamic character than Doc, as he changes subtly throughout the course of the novel. He is also ill-tempered, poor mannered, and proficient in only a narrow area. Furthermore, it takes him the full length of the novel to make any friends, while Doc beganThe Land of Terror within the company of a small group of friends. However, Challenger began the novel as a married man, while Doc never demonstrated any interest in women.

           Professor Challenger and Doc Savage look nothing like one another. On his first meeting with the Professor, Mr. Malone provided a description of Challenger, which made him appear as though he was larger than life. Part of this characterization stems from the fact that Malone described his head as being “enormous,” (Doyle 23). Another portion stems from Challenger’s possession of both an imposing countenance and a black beard, which Malone associated “with an Assyrian bull,” (Doyle 23). The remainder of Challenger’s overwhelming presence originates from his “blue-gray eyes,” which were later described as “masterful,” broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and “two enormous hands covered with long black hair,” (Doyle 23-24). Furthermore, Professor Challenger’s resemblance to the king of the ape men whom he and his fellow travelers discovered while exploring Maple White Land accentuated the reader’s earlier impressions of both his massive and bestial appearance. Although it was said of the king “that his coloring was red instead of black,” (Doyle 115), little else differentiated the pair except for the disparity cast by the shape of their heads “above the eyebrows, where the sloping forehead and low, curved skull of the ape-men were in sharp contrast to the broad brow and magnificent cranium of the European,” (Doyle 115). Doc Savage, on the other hand, may be described as a being with the figure and strength of a Greek god. He had a distinctive and powerful face which was marked by “a remarkably high forehead,” a “muscular and strong mouth,” and “lean, corded cheeks,” (Robeson 73). He also had bronze-colored skin, which was mirrored by the color of his hair, although, it was a “shade darker than the bronze skin. It lay straight and smooth,” (Robeson 73). Doc was also known for being rather tall, with a frame “lost” in “perfect symmetry,” (Robeson 73). However, “the most striking thing about him was his eyes. They were like pools of fine flake gold glistening in the sun,” (Robeson 74). Doc was also extremely muscular, to the point where he was described as an “Atlas,” (Robeson 89). His muscles “were not knotty, but more like bundled piano wire lacquered a deep bronze color,” (Robeson 89). I feel as though each character’s appearance, which was strikingly different from the other, was utilized by their respective author in order to hint at the nature of the body’s owner. Professor Challenger’s appearance, which was likened to an ape, suggested that his character still needed to “evolve.” In other words, there was still room for growth, change, development, and overall refinement. Doc Savage’s, on the other hand, suggested that he had already reached the height of humanity and had ascended into godhood or at least something akin to the divine. In other words, he was the “ideal man,” someone who was polite, powerful both mentally and physically, and blessed with many different talents and skills.

           In creating a “superhuman” character within his work, Robeson developed a being who was proficient in many different areas. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Professor Challenger, on the other hand, possessed a more “human” skillset in the sense that he was proficient in only a narrow area. Professor Challenger being a “famous zoologist,” (Doyle 18), was wholly a man of science. Prior to the trip he would make with Mr. Malone and company, he had already “made a journey to South America… to verify some conclusions of Wallace and Bates,” (Doyle 29). He spent a great deal of time both contesting “lesser” individuals within his field or verifying the facts made by other keen observers and scientists. His breadth of knowledge in the field of zoology became particularly evident whenever he contested Professor Summerlee about some matter or tried to classify the prehistoric life forms, which the travelers found within the Maple White Land. Doc Savage, on the other hand, appeared to be a man who was good at everything and who knew everything. His vast skillset and knowledge were explained as a mixture of training beneath the most talented men in a particular field, (such as Jerome Coffern in the field of chemistry), and a series of mental and physical exercises, which he performed for a few hours out of every day. Doc’s vast stores of knowledge had allowed him to contribute “new discoveries to more than surgery and chemistry. Electricity, archaeology, geology, and other lines have received the benefit of his marvelous brain,” (Robeson 73). Furthermore, he was able to perform intricate math problems entirely in his head, impersonate other people with ease, track both humans and animal life effectively, fly an airplane, and hypnotize the unwary with his gaze. Such was the case in the beginning of the novel, when he used his amazing power upon one of Kar’s men, so that he could discover what had happened to his late mentor, Jerome Coffern. “It was amazing, the things Doc could do with his eyes. He had studied with the great masters of hypnotism, just as he had studied with famous surgeons… By the time Doc asked his next question, he had exerted such a hypnotic influence… that the fellow replied with the truth,” (Robeson 80). Naturally, his ability proved useful because it allowed him to learn of the existence of the dissolving agent, the “Smoke of Eternity.” Doc’s newfound knowledge was beneficial because he would need to avoid the substance upon his return trip home from Oliver Wording Bittman’s apartment. He accomplished this by jumping over the edge of the Central Park West bridge as it was engulfed by the “Smoke of Eternity” his assailant had unleashed. He hid underwater, which he found a simple enough feat because “his lungs were tremendous. He could readily stay under water twice as long as a South Sea pearl diver, and such men have been known to remain under several minutes,” (Robeson 89).

           Doc’s training in conjunction with his strength, also lent him a certain degree of agility and martial prowess, which Professor Challenger does not possess. Jerome Coffern said that Doc’s “strength and agility are incredible… for Doc Savage it is child’s play to twist horseshoes” and “bend silver half-dollars between thumb and forefinger,” (Robeson 73). The full extent of his strength is demonstrated towards the center of the novel when he is trapped within a passage of the Jolly Roger by Kar’s men and the ceiling begins to descend upon him. “The dropping roof would have crushed the life from a body a whit less like springy steel than Doc’s. The mass of the monster timbers must have weighed a full ton… Doc caught the massive weight… He broke the deadly force somewhat. But the shock bore him to hands and knees,” (Robeson 107). The extent of Doc’s agility becomes evident when he distracted the tyrannosaurus rex of Thunder Island as his friends escaped. “Only the power and agility of his mighty bronze body saved him, for once he had to dodge between the very legs of the monster, evading by a remarkable spring snapping, foul, fetid teeth that were nearly as long as a man’s arm,” (Robeson 122). Furthermore, he is a good marksman and very capable in both hand-to-hand and armed combat. Professor Challenger, on the other hand, is not described as being either particularly agile or strong. Perhaps his “barrel” chest in some way limited him, it is difficult to say. However, it can be said that like Doc, he has the capacity to shoot a gun, which proved useful in his fight against the dinosaurs and the ape men, which inhabited the Maple White Land.

           Due to the training exercises he performs each day, Doc Savage was not only able to develop his strength, agility, and his mental capabilities; but, his senses as well. As a result, his senses and powers of observation became far keener than those of an average human, which only added to his many “superhuman” qualities. For example, when Doc was chasing Jerome Coffern’s killers shortly after his death, “he saw a caterpillar which had been knocked from a leaf so recently it still squirmed to get off its back… He saw grass which had been stepped on, slowly straightening. The direction in which this grass bent showed him the course pursued by the feet which had borne it down,” (Robeson 76). This allowed him to continue his pursuit and put an end to several of Kar’s men. Another example would be when his sight allowed him to avoid being shot by one of Kar’s men. “The bullet would have slain Doc—if he had been one iota less quick on coordinating eye and muscles. For he had seen the rifle barrel stir out of the jungle foliage. He had flattened his giant form,” (Robeson 131). Professor Challenger, on the other hand, possessed none of Doc’s amazing qualities. Instead, his senses and power of observation were “average.” For Doyle made no effort as to say anything of the contrary throughout the entirety of his work, The Lost World.

           The character exhibited by the two men is rather different as well. Doc is the model of the “fine, upstanding gentleman.” His “goal was a life of service. To go from one end of the world to the other, looking for excitement and adventure, but always helping those who need help, punishing those who deserve it,” (Robeson 80). He was kind, gracious, and personable, which allowed him to make a number of friends and earn the respect of those around him. He also had good manners and was said to be modest. “Were Doc Savage to become a professional athlete, there is no doubt in my mind but that he would be a wonder of all time. But he will not employ his astounding strength to earn money, because he is one of those very rare persons—a genuinely modest man,” (Robeson 73). In sharp contrast, Professor Challenger was described as an ill-tempered hothead who had poor manners and remained rather arrogant throughout the course of the novel. His ill temper and poor manners become evident from the very beginning of The Lost World when he chastises Mr. Malone upon his visit to his residence by exclaiming, “‘did you think you could match cunning with me—you with your walnut of a brain?’” (Doyle 25), before becoming entangled in a physical altercation with Mr. Malone. Professor Challenger’s poor manners are evinced throughout the novel’s length, particularly when he and Professor Summerlee are arguing about some aspect of their expedition and the world around them. An example would be when the pair was moving through South America with their companions and arguing about the nature of the Indians who beat their drums in the surrounding forest, thus issuing threats on the traveler’s lives. In his closing arguments to Summerlee’s claims, which he deemed false, Challenger said, “‘no doubt, sir, a limited knowledge would have that effect. When one’s knowledge is exhaustive, one comes to other conclusions,’” (Doyle 60). Challenger may also be described as arrogant because he looked down upon everyone and let it be known that he did so. One example would include the time when he explained that he would be leading the expedition to the Maple White Land. “‘You need no chart or directions now, since you will have the inestimable advantage of my own guidance… The most elaborate charts would, as you will readily admit, be a poor substitute for my own intelligence and advice,’” (Doyle 55). A second example occurred following Challenger’s rescue from the ape men, when he exclaimed that his and Summerlee’s loss “‘would have left an appreciable gap in modern zoological history,’” (Doyle 117). His arrogance becoming evident when he arguably, overestimates his own value.

           Each character’s personality earned them a certain reputation—Professor Challenger became known as an ill-tempered individual who was “hated by everyone who comes across him,” (Doyle 21), while Doc Savage became known as a just and kind individual, whom people could look up to and respect. As a result, Doc developed long-term friendships with a small band of individuals. There were five men in total, who were all masters within their respective fields. “Renny was a great engineer, Long Tom an electrical wizard, Johnny an archaeologist and geologist, and Ham one of the cleverest lawyers Harvard ever turned out… Monk, with his magical knowledge of chemistry, completed the group,” (Robeson 88). In the company of his friends, Doc would travel the world and seek adventure, while doling out his own brand of justice wherever he felt it due. Professor Challenger, on the other hand, had no friends when the novel began; his personality simply did not allow it. However, as Doyle’s novel progressed, he began to make friends. Strangely, unlike Doc, Challenger was married at the beginning ofThe Lost World. Perhaps; however, this has more to do with the social expectations of the period surrounding the turn of the twentieth century, when The Lost World was set, than Challenger’s desirability as a husband. Robeson’s work, on the other hand, was almost entirely devoid of female characters. Furthermore, Doc expressed no interest in women throughout its length. Perhaps, he felt as though they would have hindered his ability to live the life of his choosing, it is difficult to say with any degree of certainty.

           Professor Challenger’s lack of friends at the beginning of The Lost World left his character with the means for growth throughout its length. This is due to the fact that by “softening” his harsh and unpleasant character traits throughout the journey he made with his companions, he was able to develop into a being with the capacity to make and maintain friendships. As a result, Challenger may be labeled as a dynamic character because he changed throughout the length of Doyle’s novel. Evidence of Challenger’s shift is subtle; but, permeates throughout the entirety of Doyle’s work, before becoming extremely evident at its culmination. An example would be when Challenger helped save Summerlee from the ape-men. After his “begging, pleading, imploring for his comrade’s life,” (Doyle 116), failed, Challenger aided in Summerlee’s rescue from the ape-men following Lord John Roxton’s and Mr. Malone’s attack upon their town. He accomplished this by grabbing Summerlee and helping him to flee to safety. Had his hatred for Summerlee persisted, he might not have made any effort to save the man who was slowly becoming his friend. The full extent of Challenger’s friendship with his traveling companions becomes evident at the novel’s end when the group “supped at Lord John Roxton’s rooms… smoked in good comradeship” (Doyle 148) and discussed their trip. This is due to the fact that Roxton reveals his having found a number of diamonds while on their journey, which amounted to a great sum of money. This he chose to share equally with each of his companions. Had he not considered Challenger a friend, I doubt Roxton would have chosen to share his good fortune with him.

           Doc Savage, having been our first superhero, was endowed with numerous positive traits, skills, and abilities by his creator Kenneth Robeson. As a result, people may find him easier to relate to than Challenger. This is due to the fact that there is a vast array of traits for people to identify with, whereas there is a narrower focus with Challenger, (which is what makes him both more human and a more realistic character than Doc). Doc’s physical form and his skillset; however, cause him to be viewed by some as a “bland character.” He is simply “too perfect.” It is a bit off-putting when one considers how different he is from the average human and how later superheroes, such as Superman, could be reduced to his knees by kryptonite. Doc’s amazing abilities and character also leave him with little room for growth or development, since he has already reached the height of man. As a result, Doc may be deemed a static character, since he is essentially the same person he was at the novel’s end as he was at its beginning. This is due to the fact that all he discovers is who the “mysterious” Kar is, (Oliver Wording Bittman), and his only real “weakness” is revealed as being his great affection for his late father. “‘You knew my father—you knew the affection that existed between us. You were certain your trick would blind me to any faults you might have,’” (Robeson 140). This, I would argue, isn’t much of a discovery any more than the knowledge of Doc’s flaw is really much of a flaw considering how religion often tells us to “honor thy mother and thy father.” Thus, Doc’s lack of development starkly contrasts with that of Challenger who began The Lost World as a man feared for his temper, a man who lacked friends and was a social outcast, and steadily transformed into a man who had a close group of friends and was revered within the scientific community for his discoveries and contributions to the field.

           In conclusion, Doc Savage from Kenneth Robeson’s novel, Doc Savage: The Land of Terror and Professor Challenger from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World are two entirely different characters. This is due to the fact that Doc is proficient in a number of different areas, whereas Professor Challenger has mastered only a narrow field. Furthermore, Doc is physically strong, a good fighter, and extremely handsome, while Challenger somewhat resembles an ape, is only an average fighter, and isn’t known for his strength. Doc is also an extremely agile individual with keen senses, whereas Challenger is not. Doc is known for being just, modest and polite, while Challenger is known for being both cantankerous and arrogant. Challenger proves to be a dynamic character because he changes throughout the course of The Lost World; becoming someone who is “softer” with friends of his own. Being that Doc was essentially “perfect” in every way, he remains the same throughout the course of his story and may be described as a somewhat bland, relatable, static character.

Works Cited

“Character.” Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster. nd. Web. 30 Jan. 2017.

Doyle, Arthur Conan. The Lost World. Ed. Paul Cook. Rockville, MD: Phoenix Pick, 2009. Print.

Robeson, Kenneth. Doc Savage: The Land of Terror. Vol. 14. Encinitas: Sanctum Productions, 2008. Print.

[sininensalo-a]

MEET THE MUSE POWER HOUR! 🌿

━━ take a seat and REPOST this detailed little bio with criteria to introduce the world to your muse.     no reblog karma or tagging ━  if you see this on your dash, feel free to partake in it!

Minä tulen milloin minulle sopii. Ehkä en tule ollenkaan, ehkä menen aivan toiselle suunnalle.

🌿 ━ B A S I C S .

NAME: Jaakko Heikki Järvinen → officially Suomen tasavalta / Republiken Finland / Republic of Finland. Or Suomi/Finland, simple as that.  NICKNAME(S): Jaakki, Jaakka, Jaska, Muumipappa. AGE: Physically he’s around 25 years of age, his real age is unknown due to vague dating of the past, probably around 1800-ish, give or take a century. Probably less than that though. GENDER:  Cis male, masculine appearing. NATIONALITY:  Finnish.

🌿 ━ A P P E A R A N C E .

EYE COLOR: His eyes are blue and one would call them icy [ LF-01 ] has it not been for a certain warm vibe they send out. They’re not hollow, neither are they two voids embed in their sockets. They’re tired but certainly not washed out of feelings or emotions. His eyes truly are the mirror of his soul, deep and enshrouded with a mist of ambiguity and yet if you’re familiar with him it’s unnecessary to ask him how he’s doing – you can read it all in them. HAIR COLOR: It’s not platinum blond, neither is it blond of dark hue. It’s somewhere in the middle [ or “Beeline Honey” here if you require a full name ]. It’s a color very pleasant to the eye, reminiscing the fields scattered all over the country. HAIRSTYLE: To put it simple, it’s messy. It’s most usual to see him with his hair parted in the middle of his forehead and running down a cascade of split ends, grim reminders of his famous and somewhat magnificent dreads he wore in the late 70s until early 90s and the fact that he’s perpetually at odds with probably every single hairdresser on this planet. It’s just not easy to trust someone with a sharp object in hand working around your neck. HEIGHT: He’s not short but he’s not the tallest either. He stands at 178 cm (or 5′10″). It’s not difficult for taller people to underestimate him and his abilities to wreck some shit despite not having several inches more in his height number. This has been a fair warning. WEIGHT: Last time he checked it was something around 90-92 kg (198-202 lbs). He just cannot deny himself something good to eat every now and then and this beer is just a bit too tempting to say no to it. BUILD: Because of the reasons stated above Jaakko is chubby and his cheeks are pudgy. Sometimes he feels a bit self-conscious about his appearance but it does not happen often enough for him to particularly care. He likes to joke that he’s as round and soft as a Moomin and he’s honestly not too far from being right.  TATTOO(S): His most prominent ones would be a bear on his right arm and a piece of forest on his left leg. He also has two smaller tattoos, a ‘sisu’ written on his left wrist and a Snufkin on inner left forearm. Jaakko’s not planning on getting any more tattoos. SCAR(S): This is a touchy topic for him and confronted about his scars he’ll withdraw into himself and just leer at the asker if they’re not close enough to him (but those are familiar with the meanings and reasons behind his scars so no conversation about them should occur). There’s one on the central side of his chest, leaning a bit towards left side, just about where his heart is. This one tells a tale of losing Karelia in Winter War. The other looks more terrible and represents the loss of Petsamo, or Finland’s Left Arm, to Soviet Union in the aftermath of Continuation War. It’s a long and writhing around his left shoulder – just where the arm connects with the corpus – scar that resembles the loss of his entire arm for several years to come. On the side of his neck there is also an ugly scar he bears after having been shot in artery what caused instant death on the battlefield (also during Continuation War). If one is a careful watcher they might also notice a shot scar on his left calf during Civil War of 1918.

They’re his relatively fresh scars, otherwise he’s covered in more or less faded ones, products of endless wars conducted on his territories in the past. He’s not certain where each of them comes from anymore, there’s too many, especially on his back and sides. There’s also several cut scars on his hands, he practiced the knife game on his hands very intensely. PIERCING(S): He wears them only occasionally but he has at least one eyebrow piercing and an industrial in right ear, alongside a few helix piercings on both ear flakes [ here’s a picture with explanations in case anyone needs it ]. There’s at least one pair in his upper lobe, too. He used to wear a lip piercing as well but he sort of forgot and he’d have to re-pierce it if he wanted to wear it again. PREFERRED FASHION: A disaster. He’s actually quite happy with his thrift store clothes, only slightly modified by his Finnish sister figure or human friend so they fit him better or embrace his personal style and taste a bit better. He’s either wearing checkered shirts with jeans, black band shirts or your local grandpa sweaters. All together with just tragic socks someone should get rid of immediately. And crocs. Jaakko can dress properly when he has to but it’s always an adventure as well. There’s this one suit he has but it could as well pass for a part of a museal exhibition. TYPICALLY SMELLS LIKE: It’s usually his aftershave, soap he uses during morning shower and cologne – if he doesn’t forget about it. His natural smell could be described as this earthy smell that lingers in the air after the tempest in a birch forest; smell of fields of grain rippling in the wind;  freshly baked crispy rye bread; tint of licorice, sea salt with faint alcoholic breeze accenting the whole. OTHER: He has several moles on his body, not too many, and mostly located on his neck and back. His right arm is stronger and longer a bit than left one which gets weary much faster than its right equivalent. His eyebrows are rather thick but not overly so, he’s more likely to be seen with some facial hair than with none at all. He enjoys simple jewelry and wears pendants such as Ukko’s hammer or a bear claw pendant.

🌿 ━ P E R S O N A L I T Y .

POSITIVE TRAITS: || ambitious || alert || benevolent || caring || clever || conscientious || considerate || courageous || discreet || dutiful || earnest || educated || efficient || eloquent || faithful || focused || genuine || hard-working || helpful || insightful || intelligent || loyal || meticulous || painstaking || patient || reliable || scrupulous || understanding || well-rounded || NEUTRAL TRAITS: || disciplined || forthright || humble || independent || invulnerable || leisurely || manly™ || modest ||  observant || orderly || private || protective || secretive || self-critical || self-denying || sensitive || self-conscious || shrewd || shy || steadfast || upright || venturesome ||  NEGATIVE TRAITS: || aloof || anxious || asocial || clumsy || coarse || destructive || difficult || escapist || gloomy || hesitant || irascible || melancholic || moody || offhand || paranoid || petty || pugnacious || restrained || stubborn || sullen || tactless ||  LIKES: sauna, alcohol (beer!), Moomins, coffee, rye bread, hockey, hunting, sailing, swimming, walks in the forest, bears, dogs, firearm, metal music, licorice, chocolate, berries, mushrooms, herbs, books, alcohol (vodka!), sun, singing, playing various instruments, woods, bonfires, baking, stormy weather, old comedies, black humor, gardening, card games, knife song game, LOTR, sea, lakes, beaches, sweets, mämmi. DISLIKES: Ivan, mosquitoes, scorching weather, Too Much Snow, losing in hockey, nosy people, public speaking, narrow/cramped spaces, constrained movement, being mistaken for a Russian/Swede, small talk, awkward situations, effusiveness, poorly made horrors, being underestimated, being sick, hangovers, politics, crowds, mämmi. PHOBIAS / FEARS: Being ignored/forgotten by those he cares for/loves, being ruled over by someone again, hospitals, osmophobia (hypersensitivity to smells causing aversion to odors). HABITS: Drinking issues away, swearing, sauna time each evening, cleaning up the entire house on Saturdays, keeping a journal, shooting range time once a week, arms workout three times a week, walking his dog at least once a day (otherwise the dog’s in the garden). 🌿 ━ R E L A T I O N S H I P S .

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pretty much (demi)bisexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. This one Estonian is really cute though.

🌿 ━ H E A L T H .

CHRONIC CONDITIONS: His entire left arm isn’t as strong as his right one. Fortunately he’s right-handed and therefore doesn’t use left hand too often. When he absolutely has to, however, the inequality in distribution of strength is quite visible. If this counts in here he also suffers from clinical depression. ADDICTIONS: Caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, salmiakki.   ALLERGIES: N/A

🌿 ━ H O M E .

PLACE OF RESIDENCE: Helsinki/Helsingfors as of late due to his current occupation. He’d be more than happy to leave elsewhere however. METHOD OF TRANSPORTATION: Preferably a car, public transportation when he absolutely has to; trains, planes, boats/ferries. PETS: A mixed breed dog Musti. 

🌿 ━ W O R K  &&  E D U C A T I O N.

JOB: History lecturer at the University of Helsinki.      SCHOOLING: PhD in History, MD in Agriculture. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Finnish, Swedish, Russian, German, English, Estonian, (understanding of) most Finnic languages, Northern Sámi. SKILLS: Good at problems solving, perseverance & motivation, genuine devotion to work, ingenuity.

🌿 ━ R A N D O M .

QUIRKS: Clearing throat, nervous lips licking and fiddling with fingers, playing with hair, sticking post-it-notes everywhere in his house so he doesn’t forget to do some things he’s probably bound to forget, usually chores, doodling idly while talking on the phone. HANDEDNESS: Right-handed.  RELIGION: eh Technically speaking he’s a Lutheran. Not exactly practicing but he tries to show up in the church every now and then. THEME SONG(S): Journey Man. BOSS BATTLE MUSIC: Darude - Sandstorm (I’m dead serious)

[foursprouthappiness-blog]

You Don’t Have To Sell Your Soul To Become An Artist (Trust Me, I Used My Wife’s Instead)

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/you-dont-have-to-sell-your-soul-to-become-an-artist-trust-me-i-used-my-wifes-instead/

You Don’t Have To Sell Your Soul To Become An Artist (Trust Me, I Used My Wife’s Instead)

Allef Vinicius / Unsplash

Madness isn’t usually loud like it’s portrayed on the screen. It’s not bright either — no supernova of unfettered emotion or physical deformity to hint at the rot inside. I didn’t bellow until my throat was raw or bloody my hands on my walls and mirrors. I didn’t splatter my paints across my skin or shred the half-finished canvases which mock my chosen identity.

My wife Joana even commented on how methodical I was when I gently placed each brush in their case, never to be opened again. If you count finger painting in pre-school, then it’s taken me 41 years to fully accept my failure. I should have realized it sooner, but I always managed to concoct an excuse before.

I didn’t try hard enough. That’s a good one. It makes it sound like I could just flip a switch in my mind and force myself to become a master through sheer willpower.

I wasn’t taught well enough. Even better: shifting the blame onto someone else. If only my teachers had been more qualified — if only they’d devoted themselves to nurture my potential like Domenico Ghirlandaio devoted himself to Michelangelo.

I’m not good enough — the hardest pill to swallow. I set out to capture the intrinsic beauty of the human spirit and display it for the world to see, but there is no beauty in me to share. I didn’t scream and throw a fit. I didn’t think much of anything at all. I just let my body move through the familiar motions of life and hoped no one would notice there was nothing below the surface.

Joana asked why my eyes were watering, but I blamed it on the movie we were watching. She punched my arm playfully, calling me a big softy.

“Aren’t you working on something tonight?” she asked.

I blinked hard, not taking my eyes off the TV.

“I remember you talking about that comic book store commission. How’s that coming?”

“It’s coming,” I lied. She tried to snuggle against me, but I slipped free and snuck off to the bathroom. It felt wrong to even let her touch me. She had this conception of who I was in her mind — just like I used to — but that person doesn’t exist. I’m a failure, a hack, a fraud. And that’s all I’d ever be. I stared at myself in the mirror, tracing the unfamiliar lines on my face. Poking at the bags under my eyes. Hating what I saw, and hating even more what I couldn’t see.

I mimed a gun with my fingers and put it against my head. Cocked the thumb, grinned my best phony smile, and BLAMO.

“Honey, can you get me a soda on your way back?” I heard from the living room.

But I couldn’t take my eyes away from the mirror. My reflection showed a crater in the side of my skull where the imaginary bullet entered. Blood, fragmented bone, and fleshy gray lumps splattered across the bathroom walls, more gushing from the exit wound on the other side of my head.

“Ooh and one of those Nutella cups,” Joana added. “Thanks, honey!”

I traced my fingers over my temple, withdrawing them clean. My reflection still wore the phony smile, although it was barely visible now under the torrent of blood flooding down its face.

“Two years, maybe less,” came a voice. I spun, startled, unable to find an orator in the empty bathroom. “First comes the depression. Then the withdrawal. Joana will pretend she’s just going to visit her family for awhile, but you’ll know she really just can’t stand being around you.”

My bloody reflection was talking to me. That’s normal. This is fine.

“She’ll expect you to call and explain what’s going on, but you won’t. She’ll extend her trip, thinking you just need time to yourself. And you do, but just because you’re too much of a coward to pull the trigger while someone’s watching. The silence will become too loud, and before you know it…”

The bloody figure mimed a finger to its head, the phony smile flashing through the red.

“You okay in there?” Joana called from the living room. “Mama wants her chocolate!”

“Okay,” I mumbled, replying to both.

“Or…” the reflection said.

“Or what?”

“Or you become the best painter the world has ever known, your name spoken with reverence a thousand years after your death.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, numb to the whole show. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

“This is where most people ask ‘what’s the catch?’” My reflection’s voice was coy.

“Probably my soul or something, right? That’s okay. I’m not using it for anything.”

“You don’t have to sell your soul. Any soul will do.”

“Never mind I’ll get it myself,” Joana said. “Geez, I wish I’d married a butler instead.”

“Think about it,” the reflection bubbled rapidly, spraying blood between his teeth as he did. “You won’t be able to enjoy your success without a soul. And your wife — she was going to leave you anyway. If anything, this would spare her a lifetime of regret and guilt over your death. You owe it to yourself — you owe it to both of you.”

“I can’t give something that isn’t mine,” I replied, immediately hating myself for even entertaining the thought.

“Anyone who loves without reservation exposes their soul. Paint her — not as she appears, but as she truly is. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“What are you doing, giving birth in there?” Joana asked from right outside the door. The handle rattled. The door wasn’t locked. I leaped to stop her from entering — too slow. The door swung inward and there she stood: tank top over pajama bottoms, hair frizzy and wild, licking Nutella off her fingers. My heart was beating so fast, but as much as I loved her, I think my fear was even stronger.

Back to the mirror, I stared at my reflection. No blood. No bullet wound. Just a tired, aging face, equally terrifying in its own way.

“Come on,” Joana wrapped her arms around me from behind. “The movie’s no fun without you blubbering over the dialog.”

“I can’t,” I said, still staring into the mirror. “I have a painting to finish.”

A feverish intensity imbued my work all night and into the next morning. A drowning man struggling for air could not have done so with more urgency than the flight of my desperate brush. No thoughts endured more than a second before they were replaced by the endless cycle of anticipation and release each stroke demanded. When my canvas was filled, I didn’t hesitate to slash the lines onto the walls on either side of my easel. Then the table — the dresser — my own body a vessel to carry the glory of her design.

My brush was unconfined by any shape, but in its erratic patterns, I felt myself carving something out of nothing — something that had never been seen by mortal eye before.

In the subtleties of the blending colors, I captured Joana’s wry humor and gentle grace. Her laughter exploded like shrapnel across the space, the light in her eyes reflected in my cascading colors. The way her heart broke when her aging dog nudged her goodbye — the anxious thrill of stepping off the plane in Paris — even her love for me and her unspoken dread of the great beyond, naked and frozen for all the world to see.

Paint beneath my fingernails, in my hair, blazoned across my body, a testament to the frenzied passion which had possessed me. Though working alone, I danced with Joana the whole night through. I have never seen her more plainly nor loved her more strongly than those forbidden hours, and not until morning’s light did I stop to understand what I had done.

‘Are you insane?’ That’s what I was expecting to hear. Any second the door to my studio would open and Joana would see the chaos I had the audacity to unfurl. She’d laugh at me, making a thousand playful guesses at the madness which leaked from my mind all night. We’d both laugh, then she’d say something like ‘I’m just happy to see you enjoying your work again,’ and offer to help me clean. That’s how kind she was: when I did something stupid she’d be there to help me fix it, no pointing accusation or blame.

Maybe I really was insane. But either way, she couldn’t fix this one for me.

She didn’t enter the room. Not in the kitchen making her coffee, not in the shower singing herself into lucidity. Joana never got up that morning. She said she wasn’t feeling herself, and I was too much of a coward to tell her why. If I’d taken a break in the night to check on her, I might have noticed the rot that had already started to set in. She managed to prop herself up on her elbows, leaving several layers of flaking skin on the pillow. Ashen cracked skin, yellowed eyes, balding patches where clumps of hair had already started to fall — my wife was still in my studio where I’d captured her. The woman struggling for breath was nothing but a stranger to me, and I left her without a word.

I slept little and ate less. I sought only to paint, vainly trying to recapture the intimacy I’d felt with her the night before. There was a brief thrill as I marveled at the dexterity of my fingers, although they lacked the passion that haunted me before. I could trace every mental image I dared conjure and map them flawlessly onto the canvas, but they were dead things being carved into a dead world.

It didn’t take long for me to sit back in exasperation. I had the technical skill to conquer any challenge, but it wasn’t an infernal magic which had possessed me the night before. I knew at that moment that there was nothing I could ever create that was more beautiful than the pandemonium of Joana’s soul. I heard that hollow thing call my name from the bedroom with a voice like wind through dry leaves, and Heaven and Hell as my witness, I wept for what I’d done.

“Give her soul back to her,” I begged the aging face in the mirror. “Take mine instead —”

“What an ugly painting that would be,” the demon with my face replied.

“Then another — it doesn’t matter whose. I’ll give you as many as you like!”

“Does another love you as she did? Have they exposed themselves as she has done?”

I had no reply to give. Coward that I was, I merely returned to my painting. Lifeless hollow forms came marching through my work, each accompanied by the soundtrack of my wife’s body slowly deteriorating without its soul. Each time I looked at her there would be another piece missing: fingers decomposing and littering the mattress around her, cheeks worn so thin that I could see her blackened teeth and languid tongue even when her mouth was closed. I’d listen to her moan while I worked, always stealing longing glances at the portrait of her soul splashed across the room.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I set fire to that place with her inside. And watching the smoke curl into the night sky, all that’s left is to hope her soul escaped its prison and is now soaring somewhere with its dignity returned.

As for me, I returned to my work. Until the day I paint something so marvelous as to trick some poor innocent into loving me. Then I will paint what I see, and sell them until Joana is home again.