#but it still motivated me to edit this piece!! and I alluded to it!!!!!

[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 6 - IN BLOOM

The door to the tower room is much too heavy – that’s the next thing Efri needs to try to get them to change. She has to shove her whole weight against it with her shoulder to budge it, which is a dangerous game with her hands full of books and paper and an inkbottle and pen with a chewed nib. She doesn’t drop anything, luckily; but she does bash her ankle on the hefty slab of wood, which is almost as bad.

She doesn’t bother to knock, because why should she – she entered very audibly. Instead she just marches, vaguely irritated, past the entryway – almost slipping on the silky blue rug (honestly, she’ll need to make them remodel the whole place at this rate) – and into the room proper. One of the chests has been moved, she notices at a cursory glance; the Archmage is watching her from the desk, twisted around in his seat, brows knitted. He doesn’t have his hood on, which startles Efri far more than the change in furniture. (She can see his whole face. It’s weird.)

His lips press tightly together inside the little window left by his facial hair. It’s an expression she normally would not be able to see so clearly and does not make it any less weird. But Efri’s not one to be rude – when she remembers to try not to be, at least – so, very politely and with no small effort, she says, “Hi,” and doesn’t mention it.

The Archmage’s lips go even thinner.

“Hello,” he replies slowly. “You didn’t bring your friend.”

Efri shakes her head. Hair tumbles in her face – she cut it just a mite too short when she gave it a trim last week, and now it’s doing all sorts of silly things – and she purses her lips funny-like to blow it away. “Sissel’s talking to one of the teachers,” she informs him. She frowns. “And Kazari’s resting, but you didn’t ask, because you still haven’t met them, because you still haven’t fixed the stairwells.”

(The stairs are too narrow, the turns too tight, and Kazari – taller than Efri standing on four legs and at least twice as long – doesn’t even want to try to climb them for fear of getting stuck.)

(She didn’t want to come up today, anyway; something about being bothersome. But she has wanted to come up before – like two weeks ago, when they had to explain the Saarthal thing, and a week and a half ago, when they had to ask why no-one was telling them why the College doesn’t have books about Saarthal anymore – and besides, it’s the principle of the thing.)

One of the magic lights fizzes and bobs. The Archmage’s eyes flicker away. “We’re not widening the stairwells,” he says, voice dry, hands beginning to fuss with something on the desk.

“Yes,” Efri tells him, “you are. It’s not fair otherwise.”

He tips his head so she can’t see his face. (It might actually be a more comfortable arrangement for both of them.) “These are my rooms. I’m the only one who needs to be able to access them.” A page slips from his hands onto the floor and he mutters something. As he’s bending over in his chair to pick it up he adds, “If you didn’t need anything…”

Efri shifts on her feet, balancing her books as carefully as she can. She says, “I wanted to look at the garden.”

Silently, the Archmage picks up his paper and smooths it with careful attention over the surface of his desk. He doesn’t sigh exasperatedly, but he certainly has the posture of someone who would like to.

“I’ll be quiet,” Efri says. (Because she’s polite. And because she really wants to look at the garden.)

The Archmage, who doesn’t seem to be much concerned with politeness, flaps a hand. Efri takes it as approval, and goes to set herself on the low stone steps by the bed of soil.

(To be fair, he doesn’t have to be polite. He’s the boss. If Efri was in charge she probably wouldn’t be as polite. She still would be when she liked the people, or when she wanted to – but she’d be much less polite to him, because he’s ridiculous.)

The garden is as bright and wonderful as it always is, a strange little pocket of life bowered by cold stone. It looks a bit like a moon set into the slate-grey sky of the flagstones. (A rainbow moon. Incandescent moon. Are there plants on the moons? Almost certainly not, but it would be very cool if so.) Efri sits carefully at the edge, her books and things arrayed around her, pen set over the paper of her word-book and inkbottle uncorked and ready. (She’ll have to make sure not to spill it.)

She takes a good minute, first, just to stare; the Archmage lapses into quiet scribbling, with only the faint scrape of the nib or rustle of the page to remind her that he’s there, while she eyes the odd pointy-tipped flowers, the sprawl of spiky roots, the tasselled mushrooms. She wants to touch it all really badly but the Archmage told her that some of it is poisonous and she doesn’t yet know well enough to know which ones.

But that’s what she’s here to learn, isn’t it? She picks up the heavy book she’d wheedled out of the Arcaeneum. It’s nice, bound in smooth leather, the pages thick and old-smelling. And it’s illustrated. She flips through, the dense words interspersed with printed pictures of plants she doesn’t recognise any better than the ones in the garden. Lumpy fungus, prickly fruits, tangled vines. Finally, there it is – one of the garden plants, the straggly little bush with its toothy yellow flowers, printed in plain ink on the page. Efri checks the picture against the real thing several times, just to make sure they match.

Satisfied on that front, she sets the book down, holding it open to the right page with the heel of one hand, and begins the lengthy process of sounding out the name. “D – R – A –”

It’s not one of the quicker words she’s worked out.

It’s also a bit frustrating. Normally Sissel helps her with these things – she didn’t anticipate it being so much more difficult on her own. Much harder to focus. But she sticks with it, manages the first word (it’s dragons – what dragons have to do with anything, she has no idea) and begins to tackle the second with a determination that disregards the increased sighing and rustling of paper from the desk a ways behind her.

Somewhere in the middle of her heroic effort to parse vowel forms and plosive consonants, the Archmage says, “I can tell you what it is.”

“Shh.” Efri flings up a hand, twisting around in her stone-step seat to glare at him. “I’m learning.”

He is not appropriately impressed by her academic commitment, but at least he shuts up. She turns back around and squints at the word.

After a moment, she adds, “Besides, I already know what it says.” She stabs at it with her finger for emphasis, reaching for a slip of the spare paper she brought to mark the page. “It’s ton-g-you.”

(It might not be, actually. She hasn’t accounted for the E at the end. But those aren’t always there to make sound, Sissel told her – although now that she thinks it might make more sense. It could be said like gooey, which she knows is a word.)

“It’s dragon’s tongue,” the Archmage says, and she hears the legs of his chair scrape against the stone floor.

Efri peers at the printed letters. “Oh.” It’s a stupid way to spell the word, but a lot of words are spelled stupid. She tucks her slip of paper in anyway; as she reaches for her word-book, a hand taps her on the shoulder.

She looks up. The Archmage looks down, eyes red as the snowberries in the garden (she knows those ones), a hand held out, palm up, waiting. When she doesn’t move he gestures, impatient, to the book in her hand. She passes it up.

It’s a good book. Nice paper. She likes the sound it makes as he flicks through. “Urag gro-Shub let you borrow this?” he asks doubtfully.

Efri leans over the paper of her word-book, dipping her splodgy pen in the inkpot. “I wheedled it out of him,” she says, voice bright, and marks down a careful D. “I have to bring it right back, though. And I can’t take it outside.”

“Hm,” the Archmage says. He turns another page.

Ink drips from the pen nib to spot the page. Efri swears under her breath and blots it with her thumb. (It doesn’t help. Now her finger is just black.) Not looking up from her work, she asks, “What’s it say about the dragon flower?” She hopes it’s interesting – its name was far too difficult to decipher for a boring plant.

“Hm,” the Archmage says again, and flips back. Efri manages an impressively neat G. “It’s native to Black Marsh –”

“Ooh. I’ve never been there.” She’s barely even heard of it – knows it’s down south, and warm, and wet, and that’s about it.

The Archmage pauses, continues, “– but it also grows in, among other places, the volcanic tundra of Eastmarch’s Aalto.” Another pause. “It looks like that’s the only place it grows in Skyrim at all. Interesting.”

“Maybe it’s because they’re both wet,” Efri suggests. Swamps and springs are close enough, probably. Her pen goes a bit awry on the T, and she frowns at it. “I mean, so I hear. I’ve never been to Eastmarch either.”

The Archmage hums. “Neither have I,” he says passively. When Efri looks up, she sees him fixed on the page, engrossed, his eyes leaping over the text like jumping fish.

Brow wrinkled, she asks, “Really?” Eastmarch is only a hold over, and he’s a wizard. He’s nominally in charge of the whole College. “I would have thought you would’ve been all over.”

The Archmage glances down at her, head tilting. “Why?” he asks.

Good point. Efri shrugs. “I don’t know. I just feel like wizards go places. Make expeditions. They’ve at least been to the next hold.” All her wizard friends have gone far and wide. It’s what she’d do. It’s what she has done, and plans to continue to do.

Though she supposes it makes sense that the Archmage wouldn’t have gone many places. He barely leaves his tower, let alone Winterhold.

He’s still looking at her. (He does that sometimes – normally he doesn’t even meet her eye, staring at his desk or his book or the walls or his hands, and then every now and again he just looks for ages at a time. It’s weird. She can never tell what he’s thinking.) “I’m not overfond of travel,” he tells her. The skin under his eyes, in the weird look of the lighting from underneath, looks like it’s smudged hollow with ink.

Efri shrugs. She looks back at her page, marks down the best O she can. (The circle turns all wobbly by accident – but oh well, she did her best.) “How do you think they had to change the flowers so they could grow here?” she asks.

(He told her all about it, last time – in so many too-long words she’s mostly forgotten it. But she remembers the gist; the plants that grow in the Archmage’s garden are the descendants of plants collected by Archmages long before, precious few of which naturally grow in weather like Winterhold’s. So the wizards of yore, with some esoteric botanical magic, had altered each plant’s characteristics so it could survive in the relatively controlled – but still chilly – environment of the Archmage’s tower.)

(He’d talked about it more, something about microclimates and innovation and it’s fascinating, really, but by that point she’d just been looking at the shrubs. He stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and didn’t speak for another ten minutes.)

The shadow the Archmage casts over the garden is long and spindly as a wintertime tree. He replies, “I don’t know.”

Efri draws an N, a G, a U.

“I know what had to be done to that one,” he says. Efri looks up and follows his pointing finger.

She squints, asks, “The spiky one?”

“No, underneath. The little mushrooms.”

Efri outlines an E and sets her word-book aside. The mushrooms he points to are flat and pale, tucked under the leaves of a bigger shrub. “What had to be done to them?”

The Archmage wears silver in his beard, she’s just noticing. It flashes when he moves. “Ordinarily, they grow in caves –”

“I met my friend in a cave,” Efri tells him brightly.

He blinks. “Not this sort, I’m assuming,” he says. “They only grow deep underground, and often out of decaying matter.” There’s a pause; then, “Dead things,” he adds, for clarification.

Efri peers at them. “So they had to make them able to grow in the light, out of dirt.” It’s interesting. She’s interested. But the closer she looks –

It just looks familiar, is all. (Old dust and corroded metal and blue, blue, blue.)

The mushrooms grow very low to the ground, broad and wrinkled and papery. She thinks of touching one, to check the texture, but the idea makes her fingers flex, hands gripping hard at her scrunched-up skirt.

“Precisely,” the Archmage says.

Efri clasps her fingers together and jams her hands between her chin and her chest. With some difficulty – it’s hard to talk when she’s using her jaw to pin something – she says, “I think I’ve seen them.”

The Archmage’s feet shift beside her. “They grow very deep underground. I can’t imagine –”

“On the dead man.” Efri’s face is getting all scrunched up. “In Saarthal.”

She doesn’t think she likes the dead-man-mushrooms. She’ll look at something else, next.

The Archmage says, “Ah.”

She scrunches up her face harder, looking over all the bright colours of all the other things in the garden. There is a moment’s silence.

When the Archmage speaks again, his voice is careful. “I doubt it,” he says. “The fungus derives some of its names from its resemblance to withered flesh.”

“Oh.” That actually is very interesting. Efri wriggles her fingers. Maybe it’s like a sort of camouflage – though why a mushroom would need camouflage she has no idea.

And when she thinks about it, her dead man would have been embalmed, so there wouldn’t have been much decay for mushrooms to grow from anyway. She squints at them, the little cluster of shrivelled-looking things. Still doesn’t really want to touch them, but her stomach isn’t lurching like it did when first she made the connection, so it’s fine.

She hears the Archmage’s coat rustling. He says, “Efri?”

Efri glances up at him out of the corners of her eyes. “Have you ever seen a dead man?”

The Archmage’s face creases; he sighs, a quiet exhale. He tilts his head away again so his face is in shadow and holds out her leather-bound book, his body already angling back towards his desk.

Efri looks at it. She says, “You can tell me the other ones, if you want.” He clearly knows his garden well.

She thinks he frowns, though he’s still at that odd angle so it’s hard to see. “I’m rather busy at the moment.”

The magelights flash. Efri knows she frowns, then. “No, you’re not,” she points out, because he isn’t. Mirabelle does everything. The Archmage sits around being important.

He twists his head to look at her again, his face all lordly and severe. He does that sometimes, looks down his nose all haughty. Efri’s not sure if he does it on purpose or not, but just to be safe, she tips her head way back so she can look down her own nose back at him. Beside them, the garden shimmers, a rainbow bouquet of plants and textures and smells, a round motley moon set into the cold flagstones of the floor.

The Archmage sighs again (at some point Efri should start counting, make a game of beating the record) and folds his hands, with their heavy book, behind his back. Efri’s eyes crinkle, victorious. “If you look there,” he says, “at the base of the tree trunk, you can see the grapevines…”

[aheathen-conceivably]

how do you go about planning your storyline? :) especially for your decades challenge

Hello there dearest! I’m sorry this took me a while. It’s a bit of a difficult one and I wanted to take some time to sort out the chaotic process in my brain before I tried to type it out 😅

This is just a rough outline of what works for me specifically in writing a historical story on simblr. I can’t speak to writing advice in general because it’s not something I have experience with; nor do I think this will be helpful for everyone. So please feel free to pick and choose whatever suits your fancy or ignore it all completely.

Of course, it’s time to take this below the cut, since you know it’s going to get a bit long 😉

1. Find Inspiration (Nonfiction books, Blogs, TV shows, YouTube videos, Period Pieces, etc etc…)

For a decades challenge/history based story I think this is really the starting point for me. Whether it be styles of architecture, clothing trends, a historical fact, or an individual’s story, there’s so much real life inspiration to be found for this type of story. It can often seem small, but sometimes pinpointing what you know you want to include and working it in there can be the crux of so much of a story.

I’ve said this before but one of the very first things I knew I wanted to include was the Titanic, since it was the first historical event I ever became interested in. Other examples are New Orleans as a setting, the inclusion of Storyville, and even something as small as the axe man that I included in this post.

When I find these moments of inspiration, I try to immediately transform them into tangible scenes or plot points rather than simply jot them down as a note or like a “maybe for later”. This keeps me from getting mired in too many ideas or overwhelmed with things I like, but that don’t necessarily have a place in the story.

However, sometimes it also means I will need to tweak ideas as the plot develops, such as changing the original storyline of Rosella and Lord Harrington to Rosella and Georgiana; but even with these edits, this process still creates a sort of scaffolding structure for the story as a whole. It gives me plot points or small, specific scenes that I am working and writing toward. I’m then able to allude to the eventual outcome beforehand as well as weave a larger narrative around it while still having clear points of guidance for where I want to go. 2. Connect the Dots

The “dots” here are the aforementioned scenes and/or plot points that I have written well in advance. I have dozens and dozens of these, and I’m basically constantly adding to the document where I keep my writing. This is all kept in chronological order so I can see the progression as well as where I need more narrative to fill out a decade. I generally look at this structure and ask myself: how do I realistically reach that point?

To use the example of the Titanic again: this meant somehow getting the oldest daughter of a relatively poor and close knit family aboard a ship bound for America. It meant not only putting her in contact with someone who would have access to these tickets, but also giving her a reason to leave the people she loved. Then once those larger dots are connected, I continue to focus on smaller and smaller threads, like the details of Georgiana herself or Rosella’s relationship to Zelda, until the storyline feels fully fleshed out and a character’s motivations are coming through. 3. Character Consistency

That last bit is very important to me, and I always try and think about how the characters are functioning within the framework of what I’ve written and the historical landscape. Sometimes this comes into play before connecting the dots, but often it is actually what finally puts the puzzle pieces in place. Something sim-specific here is that I really do use sims traits as guidance on who the characters are, how they interact with the world, and how the world has affected them. So often when I am referencing a prewritten plot point or scene I will ask myself, how would that character get to this point? What may have happened that would lead them here? How does their personality interact with this historical event or point of inspiration?

Many scenes have often come from more outward facing questions, like, is this trait clear to everyone reading as well as me? Has this visibly impacted their life and done so in a sensible way? This is in part responsible for many extra scenes we saw at the end of the 1920s when a few of my best simblr babes pointed out to me that Antoine’s motivations weren’t very clear. It also helps me to fill in and round out that base storyline structure with more small, real-life scenes that showcase and develop certain traits as characters grow and interact with the world around them.

—

With all that said, this is often a very long process that involves reading or watching historical content, going over my own writing again and again, and just waiting for the day when my brain suddenly writes 5-6 scenes unprompted. Other times I’m flying by the tip of my boots, watching y’all feedback and incorporating it or reading through scenes with friends for their help.

So the process has looked very different at various points in the narrative and through the many months I’ve been writing this story. But overall, having those points to write toward as well as tangible character traits have guided the process throughout.

[fordarkisthesuede]

The Tolls of Justice: the Tarot, Name Meanings, and More!

Gentlepeople…

BEHOLD!

All the tarot-aligned hints! All the future foretellings! All the silly references! :) Everything you might have overlooked is here for you easy-to-read pleasure!

Naturally, there be spoilers a-plenty ahead for Batman the TellTale Series: The Tolls of Justice, so if you haven't read it (or maybe you're thinking about reading it, or this is your first time hearing about it), I'd advise waiting until you're done with each chapter to read through the sections. You can either click the link and be redirected to Ao3, or look through my tumblr tag #ttoj!

*One forwarding note: the tarot references build slowly in this story, and I only use the traditional Major & Minor Arcana. You'll see a lot of jokes and name-type references before we get to the tarot. I also simplified the numerics, but they're often displayed as roman numerals on cards, hint hint.

Prologue

gang member "Four Ears" - a very very off-the-collar reference to the line "Listen up, four-ears!" from J-Men Forever; in context, it was an off-shoot of the insult "four-eyes" but for music taste, also implying the person's taste was "square".

gang member "Muddy Nye" - his name can be boiled down to "muddy river". It works as an allusion to the messy, unclear case ahead of Bruce and the Batfam, but also as a hint to Clayface, who acted as Muddy in his first sighting of the story.

"Sunset" - a reference to everyone's favorite vampire series to pick on, the Twilight series; back when it was at the height of it's popularity, some drug dealers sold heroin marketed towards the crowd based off it's terrible and unfortunately iconic(?) line from Edward Cullen, "You're my own personal brand of heroin"…hence why the drug of choice BM is shipping here is heroin. Essentially, this plot setup is one big joke.

"FIGS" - a reference to POP! vinyls, hence the capitalized name and spiky word balloon on the packages.

"Gray Ghost [memorabilia]" - one of my (and everyone else's) favorite BtAS episodes, which proves definitively that Bruce Wayne | Batman is not only a Huge Nerd™, but also a massive collector of normal fandom things. (Do you think he troughs through blogs and fanwikis…? What am I saying, of course he does. He edits them.)

gang members "Jack Whendleham and Kirby Noltz" - nod to Jack Kirby, comic artist extraordinaire!

Ch.1: A Different Ceiling

[chapter title] - John does not wake up in Arkham at the start of the story, hence waking up to a different ceiling. He also hits different limitations on what he can do, so it's also a different kind of "ceiling". (Like the term "the glass ceiling", the invisible barrier a demographic hits in a hierarchy.)

St. Dymphna New Life Home - named after Saint Dymphna, the patron saint of mental illness. There's no "'s" at the end because I saw other clinics named after Saints didn't use the possessive form when referencing them.

The Lucky Hotel - an oxymoron, really; the unluckiest place to get stuck at with it's seedy history, but also the place where John "gets lucky"…in a couple of different ways!

Stitched Up Alterations - a heavy nod to the wonderful batjokesy line from S2, "We're two threads in the same stitch". It's pretty deeply ingrained in fanon (and technically canon, if you go with The Dark Knight) that Joker makes his own clothes, hence Batman rarely finding him through his tailor. Since John's thrifty and clearly made his original Joker outfit(s), I piggybacked off it as a legit skill to give him. I mean, come on, the guy is always so stylish! And you're really going to look at me and say he didn't alter his thrifted shirts and vests to fit his sleek frame? Puh-leeease.

13th Street - 13 is a traditionally unlucky number in western culture; hence the "Lucky Hotel" there having a bloody history, along with a failed, closed casino nearby.

Corazón gang - okay, I admit…I'm still a weeb at heart. It's a One Piece reference. Corazon was one of the few post-timeskip new characters I really liked; his name is Spanish for "heart", and he sported a heart motif. Like the gang in this story, he also died before the start of the main storyline.

Ch. 2: Face Values

[chapter title] - A reference to the phrase "not taking things at face value", which is very evident in this story. Also doubles as a rather loose reference to the upcoming Tarot cards.

Sebastian Overfield - The name Sebastian means "from Sebaste", as is derived from the Greek word sebastos ("venerable", someone who has a lot of respect). Overfield of course is "over" and "field", implying the family is on a high hill overlooking/overseeing/maintaining a certain field. As Seb is a reverend, this name is well-fit for him.

orange rose [gift from John] - means "passion" in the language of flowers, and can allude to fascination; this can be taken platonically or romantically…but it's definitely romantic when it's coming from John.

blue iris [gift from John] - means "faith and hope" in the language of flowers, and sometimes are associated with royalty; an allusion to Batman/Bruce's overall symbolism in the eyes of Gotham…and John.

Chandis [ship, circa Prologue] - A reference to Chandi | Chandika, the Hindu deity; the short version of their story is that they are a demon slayer, known to be angry and passionate, wield multiple weapons, and ride a lion. And who was on the ship? Hmm…

Ch. 3: Ink Trails

[chapter title] - A reference to the Alterations' claim slip John finds, which ends up leading back to the Court of Owls. It doubles as a reference to the mask tattoo/clue on Ian 'Nito'.

Faith Ackart - "Ackart" is a variant of "ackhart", derived from "ekkehard", which we can say roughly means "brave/hardy". The name "faith" and "hardy" together is another very subtle clue for the audience towards the villains' motives. (Well, I say that, but it was really more of a joke-clue for me to giggle at. And it makes a good reporter name!)

Lou Monger - the guy's a fish monger…with the last name Monger. It's-a joke! ;D

Ian 'Nito' Coggs - first mentioned without his real last name, but "Ian Coggs, Nito", is a pun on the word "incognito"…which is what Clayface is here.

FriendBook/Chirp/bloggr/uBox - takes on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and YouTube respectively. (This started back in my 'Season 3' story, At the Brink of Midnight, though I've since learned that bloggr was a real thing. :T) The 'uBox' is meant to be a play on 'jumping box'/'the box' as other terms for TV, like 'the tube'.

"whole tomato of pins" - the supposed history of tomato-shaped pincushions is that tomatoes placed on mantels repelled evil spirits and guaranteed prosperity, but I really wanted to just allude to the common pin-cushion shape. (My mom once had a whole little basket of strawberry shaped pin-cushions. I remember "borrowing" them a lot as a kid to play with. And then "losing" them.)

"sock and buskin masks" - these are a reference to the "comedic sock" and "tragic buskin (i.e. boot)" of the Greek comedy-tragedy theatre masks. I figured something like them would be a good logo for the "false faces", as BM is obsessed with masks. It also doubles as a natural callback to the "your relationship with x has changed" feature of TT games.

Ch. 4: Suite of Cups

[chapter title] - the first chapter to be a reference to the Tarot, in specific the Minor Arcana of Cups; rather than specifying the card at play outright, this title is a pun on the aforementioned arcana "suite", as the main location of events this chapter are in a casino's hotel suite. One can interpret many Cups cards at play here, but...

○ Specifically, in the Casino's suite/crime scene, there are 8 visible seats, but 7 cups on the table. The 7 of Cups refers to choices, fantasy, and illusion, an indicates there are multiple opportunities or many paths you can take, but they should be chosen carefully; when reversed, it can mean confusion, diversion, and temptation, and indicate a lack of choice or failure to choose.

○ The upright version is definitely in play, with the overall root of TellTale games being choices, and some "the player" makes this chapter will move your relationships with Tiffany and John in different ways, which can strengthen your relationships with them. If "the player" has chosen to be a more violent Batman, the way the Talon - and later, the Court - treats Batman is different.

○ The Reversed reading can be interpreted for the Court's complete disregard for the mere notion of choice.

Bauta - a Venetian carnival mask, meant to represent 'anonymous decisions' via it's original design of protecting identities. It's quite common in carnivals.

Melpomene-Thalia - the Venetian masks for comedy and tragedy, a la 'sock and buskin', the masks used as a general symbol for theatre. You can practically taste the irony, given who's shown wearing it...

Volto - a Venetian mask, meant to represent 'anonymity, quiet exit' for it's blank face. It's also known as the "Citizen Mask" because of it's worn by the common folk (in comparison to the more elaborate masks).

The Lot [casino] - named for "drawing lots", like drawing straws or matches to pick a person to do a task (usually with the shortest straw having to do the task, but it varies). This is both a pun on the fact that it's a casino - where you try your luck at gambling - and corresponds with the theme of foretelling the future that's woven throughout much of the story.

The Wednesday Nighters gang - this doesn't mean anything in particular. I'm a big fan of Midsomer Murders, and there's an episode ("Death in a Chocolate Box") where it references a few dirty cops who frequently took the Friday night shift at a station for episode-plot-reasons, who called themselves The Friday Nighters. It's an off-shoot reference to it, hence the corrupt cops on the gang in this story. :)

[John's voicemail] - Another BtAS episode I love is "the terrible secret of Bruce Wayne". In particular, I loved Joker's voicemail when Dr. Strange calls in ("Boy, do YOU have the wrong number!") and I wanted to do something like that. But, y'know, way less murdery.

"F85H4ND" - l33t-written "Fate's Hand", for…well, the hand of fate, supposedly guiding you through life/events. Another correspondent to the foretelling the future theme.

Michael Hodgson - not all of the names I pick for characters mean anything. Sometimes their names are just loose references to things I like. This is a silly mish-mashup of the original hosts of Mystery Science Theater 3000, Michael [Nelson] and [Joel] Hodgeson. (Joel was the first host + show creator, and Mike was the second host who closed out the original series run.)

"40F5WRD5" [Batcomputer archive] - l33t for the 4 of Swords, a card in the Minor Arcana for rest and restoration; since the archives and file names are randomly generated when not prompted otherwise with manual input, an otherworldly force seems to be saying 'get some damn sleep Bruce'.

[John's ringtone] - I know, TT always has everyone's phone on silent. I don't care. Bruce's ringtone for John is "Mack the Knife", a song about a violent mobster, played on a carnival organ. Chosen because 1) John probably loves that song, 2) I thought it was funny that it has the line "the shark bites - with his teeth, dear - when he shows them pearly whites" and how well that goes with John's A+ dental care... 3) TeamFourStar made jokes in their BtTTS S2 playthrough about having "a special ringtone whenever John calls [them]"…why would I not carry that through? They did get me to where we are now, you know. ;)

Ryde - the in-game stand-in for Lyft, the not-a-taxi service.

Ch. 5: The Wheel Still Spins on the Upturned Chariot

[chapter title] - a reference to 2 tarot cards in the Major Arcana. 1) "The Wheel"/"The Wheel of Fortune", which is a sign for continuous cycles, inevitable fate, and usually indicates good fortune and pre-destiny when the card is presented upright. When reversed, it can signify bad luck and an unfavorable fate. 2) "The Chariot", symbolizing a path forward to success, confidence, and overcoming obstacles; when reversed, it's stands for recklessness and lack of direction/control. 3) As the Chariot is upside down, John's original plans have been upended and everything goes out of his control in a chaotic situation. He’s essentially "not at the driver’s seat" for a little while. "The player" decides which direction to take the wheel in - either letting him lash out violently and send him on more solitary and dangerous path, or satisfy his need for stability by embracing his new relationships. The Chariot is always upturned here, but whether the wheel spins forward or backward is up to "the player's" decisions.

511 N. Blade Street - this one's a bit messy. 511 = V I I, or VII in roman numerals, which =7. The tarot cards are traditionally numbered in roman numerals. North, for pointing upright, and "blade" is synonymous with "sword". So it’s the "7 of Swords", in the upright position – referring to deception and trickery, which is of course what's going on in regards to who Ian 'Nito' Coggs really is…

Apt 1005 - even muddier, but this is referring to the 10 of Swords, which is for betrayal and backstabbing, hinting at the true motives of "Ian" | Clayface. 10-0-5, so 10 and the l33t for "OS" = 10-o-S.

900 Wanda Way - Both a pun on the phrase “wander away” and the 9 of Wands in the Minor Arcana, which alludes to pushing forward to achieve victory. A good allusion for a clinic, me-thought.

400 Wanda Way - The 4 of Wands in the Minor Arcana stands for community, another good allusion for a clinic.

Karen McCarthy - named after the most stereotypically uptight narcissistic asshole the masses have agreed to call 'Karen', and both McCarthyism and another famous lady with the surname McCarthy. Because I wanted you to know the second you see her name that she is *horrible*. (Funny, though, there's 2 senators named McCarthy that are pieces of shit and one infamous quasi-celeb who's the face of the anti-vax scene. Is it just a cursed family name?)

Ch. 6: The Tips of Our Swords

[chapter title] - Refers to the 4 of Swords card in the Minor Arcana, as the "swords" are alluding to the four active members in the Batfam - Bruce, John, Tiffany, and Iman - who work together on the case[s]; you can infer this title to a presentation not unlike the Musketeers joining swords to affirm themselves as a team, as they all gather together. The reversed reading of the card is for restlessness/stress in Bruce's case, and the clear signal of the universe to tell him to relax, and the reading when presented right-side up is for the break it gives to "the player", with the homey atmosphere of the Batfam spending time together. Either reading is completely valid here.

○ BUT, as Alfred is a non-active member of the Batfam, we could also say that 5 of Swords is also at play, right-side-up for the fighting and resentment with Alfred, and John's hinted budding conflict with him; and 5 reversed for Bruce's attempts at making up with Tiffany. If one illustrated the gathering of our four heroes joining swords like the musketeers over a breakfast table, then Alfred would be sitting drinking tea, standing as a symbol of the Ace of Cups, signifying new emotions or stirrings of feelings.

○ If we stretch the metaphor eeeven further, the title can also be a loose reference to the Sword of Damocles; threats always hang above the heads of powerful people, and in this case the looming threat of Black Mask and the mysterious assassin, ever-present in Batman's world…

Dr. Brandi September - literally "Sword" and "Seventh Month", alluding to the 7 of Swords, hinting to deception and manipulation at play.

"I was tired of the soup du jour" - a shameless Devo reference; a tiring of the routine/everyday. "I'm tired of the soup du jour - I want to end this prophylactic tour - ain't nobody around me - understands my potato - I'm only a spud boy - lookin' for a real tomato" - DEVO, "Mr DNA/Smart Patrol".

Motel 11, Augury Road - "augury" is another word for crows; as a gathering of crows can be a method of fortune-telling, this a reference to a gathering of 11 crows, which when seen is supposed to be indicative of disguising or revealing secrets.

Ch. 7: Drawing the Strings

[chapter title] - meant to allude to John aligning the strings connecting the people and crimes together, like an old-fashioned way of mapping clues; can be interpreted as these crime-strings on the proverbial board being drawn closer together, marking the center of the "web" as the Court of Owls

Frieda Baast - Frieda, an allusion to the Norse goddess Freya, who rode on a chariot driven by cats, and Baast, the Egyptian goddess who had the form of a cat. It makes it really obvious who was staying at the Motel 11, huh?

room 14 [Selina Kyle's motel room] - a reference to the 14th tarot card, "Temperance", which when upright is meant for choosing the middle path between choices. This is meant to reference Selina herself, currently at a secret, personal crossroads and being in "the middle"; John can influence her hidden choice by either making her think about what her potential job's employers are really aligning themselves with, or taunting her into how she can't leave her old life behind. (Whether John is violent or not doesn't completely impact her choice, but it does impact how they interact later if Selina winds up in the hands of our villains.)

Oracle, Spoiler, Batgirl, Spectrum - Batman's had a lot of non-Robin sidekicks in comics, including Batgirl (originally Barbara Gordon), Oracle (Barbara Gordon, post-Batgirl-forced-retirement and computer hacker extraordinaire), and Spoiler (Stephanie Brown, who "spoiled" crimes). As a fan of Ao3/tumblr's @fractualized 's own Telltale Bat-verse fics (the "Release John Doe" series), I added in the reference to "Spectrum", which Tiffany became in lieu of "Robin". A wink from one fan-writer to another! ;)

"I'm steppin' out, my dear - to breathe an atmosphere […] - that simply reeks […] with class" - John's singing a classic Fred Astaire hit, "Top Hat, White Tie, and Tails".

Eric, Jerome, Jeremiah, Jack [John's "Normal name" ideas] - As this story allows "the player" to pick a name for John to use in place of his own, you can pick between some classic and modern references to Joker's alternate personas over the years. Eric White Border (edit: goddang it that's what i get for looking at White Knight while writing this up and never double-checking), Joker's regular persona in the New 52 Batman comic line; Jerome or Jeremiah of the Gotham TV series, both of which are different aspects of Joker's personality through media, with a more modern gritty version in Jerome (think Heath Ledger's Joker) and a more modern take on Joker's sociopathy in Jeremiah; and last but not least Jack Napier, the first official name of Joker circa Tim Burton's Batman (1989), and the one most popularly used (BtAS and other comics throughout the years since use this name). "The player"'s choice doesn't impact the story or the way John acts, but it does give a surprise feature later. ;)

Matt Chaney - Aka, "Clayface", Matt has both new and old elements in his name alone. Matt, for Matt Hagen, the most well-known/used of the Clayface personas, and Chaney, for classic film actor Lon Chaney, AKA the man of a thousand faces. This Clayface is an aspiring actor who is psychologically dependent on Moddy to keep him handsome after a terrible car accident left his face marred. He uses his excellent makeup skills and acting to infiltrate the False Face Society, and double-plays them and the Court of Owls.

Root / MuSec - stand-ins for Vine and TikTok, respectively. "MuSec" is both a play on the word "musac" (the word for 'elevator music' and generic produced music you hear in fake stores and the like) and the mish-mash of the words "music" and "second", referencing the short length of the videos. "Root" was used in a prior story (At the Brink of Midnight), and acts as another "natural network" type name akin to Vine; though I do recognize "Vine" might have come along as part of the phrase "I heard it through the grape-vine". I have a feeling some Aussie fans might find the fake-Vine name funny...or just awkward.

Ch. 8: It Had to Be You

[chapter title] - A reference to the classic crooner song, "It Had to Be You"; specifically, the one that flows through the first scene is a cover done by Frank Sinatra, meant to align with other Bat-media's use of Sinatra where Joker and Batman are concerned. The Arkham games got his famous "Under My Skin", and another crooner's "Only You". Batjokes fans/content creators have also used "Strangers in the Night" for their relationship. I wanted to present one that would feel at-home in the TellTale universe regardless of what route you end up with, and what's more perfect than a song about finally discovering the love of your life? The song fits them to a tee, in my humble opinion…

Estella Art Gallery - Selina's art gallery, mentioned previously to have been the site of a Talon attack. "Estella" translates to "star", for the tarot card "The Star". When presented upright, it means hope and rebirth; this card can be presented after a disaster, such as an event like "The Tower". Normally, it can be interpreted as a card to show a phase where you have trust and faith in yourself and the universe. Selina was turning over a new leaf and enjoying her new life until the Owls found out who she was.

Mrs. Bollard - "bald-headed person"…this poor woman got her wig snatched as John stole Bruce from her on the dance floor. xD

"I knew today's horoscope was bullshit" - a nod to earlier, where Roman mentioned his horoscope when visiting Bruce; "a friend will help you out of a tight bind." Not that it was mentioned like that... still! I wonder what today's was? "You will be fortunate in your business endeavors"? Ha ha ha! But really, the horoscope is another nod to the theme of foretelling the future, as it's a popular method to try and see how your day, month, season, or year will be. Not that I know what sign Roman is… *thinking face*

[Achievement Unlocked: Batman Who Laughs] - John showing up in the Batman cowl was not only funny, but a direct nod to the Batman Who Laughs. The TT games had Batman comic titles often used as Achievements, so I figured I'd put in some…

[Achievement Unlocked: Batwoman Rises] - Iman helping the team out in the spare Batman suit is naturally a nod to Batwoman, and something I wanted to do for a while. ;D

Brighella - a Venetian mask taken from a play now used to depict a cunning and mischievous servant. Originally the mask was used to depict a greedy villain character.

The Two Gilded Cups - A restaurant in-story that references "The Two of Cups" tarot card, a card representing unity, partnership, and two becoming one. When upright, it's a card that can reference lovers or a new relationship; when reversed, it can represent broken communication, imbalance, or tension. As such, the couple who were seen at the restaurant - Sonja Townsend and her husband - are established lovers who work together for the Court of Owls, but those who were really there are Jackie Lant and Matt Chaney, who are in an imbalanced relationship. "Gilded" implies that "The Cups" are covered unnecessarily with gold - this is both in reference to Jackie and Matt's disguise of the Townsends and the truth about their relationship. Matt's lies are covering for his narcissism and selfishness, and ultimately is the only thing holding him and Jackie's relationship together.

Moddy - A fictional body modification clay-mud-putty that's a product of Janus Industries, this makeup is the favorite of Matt Chaney and the reason we can call him "Clayface". Like the traditional Clayface, Matt is in dire need to have his fix of the makeup, despite what it does to him - as John notes, it leaves a weird burn-like sensation, and since Matt has deep scar tissue he covers every minute of every day, it's made the skin damage worse.

"You’re really committed to drowning in that river" - A riff on the old joke "denial ("de Nile") isn't just a river in Egypt".

"Your words are honey in my ears, but my brain always turns it into bitter wax" - In Futurama, Fry has a silly line of “Sweet words! Sweet words that turn into bitter wax in my ears!”. It always had the potential to be a great metaphor if the words were twisted around! :) Plus, I mean, come on, this is a totally On Brand™ thing for John to say!

Ch. 9: Strength in Numbers

[chapter title] - Referencing the Strength card, for bravery, compassion, and inner strength; the title also doubles as a play on “different kinds of strengths”. Strength is the will the expose your truths. Strength is finding compassion to help others. Strength is staying true to your convictions in the face of opposition. We see all different kinds of strength on display here.

○ It can also a reference to the different partnerships going on, with Jackie joining the team (unofficially), Bruce and Tiffany going off to tackle the other half of our case, and John and Iman’s team-up. :)

"[John] could barely hear it over the tinny electronic whistling tune emitting from his own phone, telling him the person on the other end was a mystery" - this is referencing an old tumblr joke! Yes, John has the “It is a mystery” tone on his phone for unknown calls…complete with the little (:o) ghost icon.

CUP5K1NG [license plate] - Referring to the King of Cups card, a card portraying emotional balance and compassion. As it's not written as "K1NGCUP5", it implies it's a reversed card, signifying there's manipulation and instability at work. Even though Matt doesn't own the car this license plate belongs to, it's definitely tied to him since it's his getaway ride, and thus hints at what's to be revealed in his and Jackie's hotel room.

Aylin Street - the name "Alyin" translates into “moon halo; one that belongs to the moon”, thereby being a reference to the Moon card, representing mysteries and illusions. An investigation is afoot!

“Looks like I’ve got the red light, kiddo.” - In stage acts, the red light is to indicate to the performer their time on stage is up. Generally, it’s reserved for comedians who either overrun their time or are losing the audience. John's joking that he's been given the red light to exit stage left (but not persued by bear).

"What’s the ‘G’ for?” - Iman's 'Gotham Construction' jumpsuit has a G different from John's - it's shaped more like a gear. This is another Mystery Science Theater reference, in particular the logo for Gizmonic Institute, the company/labs that "employed" original host Joel and the mad scientist Dr. Forrester (and his assistant, TV's Frank), who started the experiments of forcing a guy and his robot friends to watch reeeally bad movies. The result was 12 (soon to be 13!) seasons of some guys making hilarious and very memorable jokes at said bad movies' expense. Does this reference mean that Bruce is just as huge a dork as I am, or does it mean that MST3K is real in this universe?! You make the call! ;D

○ …if you read 'What's the 'G' for?' in Invader Zim's voice, that's also valid. Especially if you followed it with “I dON’t know!” in GIR's. (There is no cringing here! We openly embrace our childhood silliness!)

MasterOfClayFace / #IdW3arThat [Matt Chaney's social media login] - naturally Matt is so far up on his high horse that he considers himself a master of clay work…and of course his nickname is ClayFace! His password is a joke in and out of canon, being a riff on Lemon Demon song: “A mask of my own face – I’d wear that” ~ Lemon Demon, “Mask of My Own Face” [Nature Tapes].

3055 [Jackie Lant's InstaPic followers] - According to research, the average Instagram following is about 1000, so Jackie is above average popularity. Anything above 10k is usually(?) celeb status. The number 3055 is meant to be broken up and turned partially into l33t, to make 3-O-S-S, or 3 of Sword[s]. The 3 of Swords card in the tarot signifies heartbreak and grief, stemming from betrayal, loneliness, and rejection. Jackie experienced all three of these heart-piercing swords during her return to Gotham, with Matt basically forcing her into isolation, betraying her trust, and rejecting her input and values in favor of his own; but she didn't really know it until the truth was exposed.

8055 [Matt Chaney's InstaPic followers] - similarly, Matt's follower count is meant to be 8-O-S-S, or the 8 of Swords card. It signifies self-victimization and imprisonment. In particular, the card shows a person restrained and trapped, but their helplessness is a show…they could choose to get out, if they got over themselves. Matt is incredibly selfish, so it comes as no surprise that he will play the victim card.

#OnlyInGotham - Another tumblr reference! I love the @hashtagonlyingotham blog! ( ^3^)

The Herold Rite's Theatre - A play on the word "Hierophant": Herold, like “herald (ruler/champion)” and Rites, like “sacred rites”. In the tarot, the Hierophant card represents following tradition and values, which for the Owls is their very core. This is basically a big ol' hint that Iman and John are heading into Owl territory, but also foreshadows the religious undercut of The Court and Reverend Sebastian Overfield's role.

"a familiar red-pyramid-and-floating-eyeball" [graffiti] - A reference to my icon! ;D You think I can't self-promo?

trading cards [found in theatre storage] - In the Theatre, John finds "old promotional trading cards for an old sci-fi film with big-brained aliens". This is a shameless and loving reference to Tim Burton's 1996 film Mars Attacks!, of which my AO3/tumblr icon and username is lifted - the movie was based on a series of Topps trading cards from the 1960's, and had it's own set of cards with movie scenes and behind-the-scenes pictures (and summaries of events) printed for the movie! They also used them as promotional tools, and if you get very lucky purchasing a copy of the old single-issue comic books from the 1995 Mars Attacks run from Image Comics, you can get a promo card.

https://bit.gt.gd/S3272019F?=RO - Originally "gd" stood for a derivative of Google Drive, but I can’t look at it and not see “get good”. The "S3272019F?" is meant to stand for "Started: March 27, 2019 Finished: ?". I can't believe I started uploading the story in March of 2019! Man, 2020 really messed with my sense of time…

Ch. 10: Tantara Bounces Off of Moonlit Walls

[chapter title] - "Tantara" is defined as "the blare of a trumpet or horn", as seen in the Judgement card, which stands for self-reflection as well as reckoning, and can indicate rebirth. There's of course another reference to the Moon card, for intuitions and the unconscious being. Then what are the "[Moonlit] Walls"? Well, they're the part of the only Major Arcana tarot card to represent a building - they are the walls of the Tower, symbolizing destruction and disaster. When all the cards' meanings are put all together, this alludes to a time of discovery among absolute disaster.

○ Expanded, the whole title is a reference to both forms of Judgement occurring – self-reflection and change are happening with Bruce and John as their mysteries and anxieties are finally put to rest: John is undergoing his final "rebirth", seeing his reality clearly in Arkham’s padded cell; Bruce seems to finally come to terms with working with Tiffany, as his fear of not being able to protect her comes through with her showing she's able take care of herself and prove she's a true asset to the team; and the Court of Owls finally comes to light, with Matt Chaney, the Talon Adam, and the Talon Sonja Townsend finally showing their real motivations.

○ We can also interpret the title as a reckoning coming for the Owls, who have long been obscuring the truth of their deeds and whose true motives have been murky. They've built their own tower of disaster with bricks of delusion, and judgement's horn is blaring a warning through their hallways…

"X-Sharp Manufacturing" - a reference to the 10 of Swords (hence the "sharp"), the tarot card for betrayal, backstabbing, and defeat. For Bruce, there is disaster here beyond his control that ends in a [temporary] defeat. For Roman Sionis, owner of the small factory as part of Janus Inc., he's unwittingly walked into his own betrayal.

"Merlin's Flower Arrangements" - Merlin, a famous wizard, is a reference to The Magician card, who defines “as above, so below”… And as John is taken to a secondary location, so is Bruce. :)

"La Luna Painting" - La Luna, aka The Moon; remember, shadows can play tricks on your eye, so something’s afoot here… Aka "HEY GUYS THIS TOTALLY ISN’T SUSPICIOUS OR ANYTHING NO SIR"

Yelsnia Theater - Yelsnia is…actually a name. But searching for it shows my true hint, as it's "Ainsley" backwards. "Ainsley" derives from Scottish words meaning “alone, solitary” or “hermitage”. This is a reference to the Hermit card – in this case, it's blatantly upside down, referring to loneliness, isolation, and a general disconnection with mankind. AKA, the path Matt is on.

"the looming pillar tower" [Arkham] - A blatant representation of The Tower. It stands for impending disaster and "an upheaval of a foundation of reality". Of course, this can be taken in two ways. 1) That John has overcome/avoided the disaster of another mental breakdown. 2) That John’s foundation of his delusions - that he’ll wake up in or get sent back to Arkham for his sickness - was wrong in a realistic sense, as he’s made serious progress in managing his emotional issues, and right in an unrealistic one, where the only way he could be sent back was through an outside force, i.e. the Owls.

10210475 [inmate number] - When separated for the numeric cipher, we get 10-21-4-7-5, or J-U-D-G-E

13051420 [inmate number] - When separated for the numeric cipher, we get 13-5-14-20, or M-E-N-T

○ When put together, the inmate numbers read "Judgement", the tarot card is shown here for John's choices and character arc on display throughout this chapter. When the card is reversed, it implies a lack of self-awareness, which we can also attribute to "the player's" choices for John if they make Bad Decisions. If you simply take the word "judgement" at face-value (without involving the tarot) it also works wonderfully, applying to John's entire situation as being a trial/judgement set by a higher force.

"The prince returned to the tower" dialogue [the prophetic cell mate] - Whether the person speaking is physical or not, John notes he can hear the scratching of pencil on paper within the cell, implying a person is writing their words down like a story… “The prince,” (John Doe, alias Joker, traditionally the ‘Clown Prince’ of Gotham) “having returned to the tower” (Arkham Asylum, the foundations of John's issues) “to reclaim his crown,” (assurance in himself and his reality; the completion of John's "self" with his final choices and becoming Vigilante!Joker for good) “trails after the fiend” (confronts the Talon Adam, alias Owl-man) “who's flying on wings of retribution” (core beliefs, perceived sense of justice). “The fiend’s wings are big, but the bones are brittle” (the Owl-man is imposing and persistent, but his physical "wings" are his weakness).

○ If you couple the Court of Owl's belief that G*d has written down the destinies of everyone in the world [as they are each born] with the knowledge that someone was writing down a short version of John's events at Arkham…hmmm.....

Room 11 [Iman's cell room] - The 11th card in the Major Arcana is "Justice". This can reference either 1) The just-desserts coming for Talon Adam/"The Owlman", or 2) The outcome of the player’s choice to take Iman with them or not.

11 minutes + 16 seconds [remaining time on bomb timer] - 11:16. 11/16, aka my birthday! :) I only wish I had finished Chapter 10 in time for the chapter's publishing year (2020), lol~

"Our Faith brings Perseverance, and Our Perseverance guides Justice, for Mercy to God." - The Court of Owls' beliefs circle around 3 principles bringing people closer to G*d: Faith, Perseverance, and Justice. Their belief hardens their persistence in their actions (as they are written and not guided by "Evil"), and their goals are ultimately to deliver justice where the human system failed and "Evil" prevailed in "escaping", hence the guiding of one principle to another. "Mercy to God" is what is granted by righting the injustices of the world; as G*d wrote your future down exactly, Evil can corrupt it, and once corrupted this does G*d a harmful injustice. The Court considers themselves close to G*d by "mercifully" stopping further corruption via eliminating "Evil" in all it's worldly forms…

Speaking of the 3 principles, our main Owls are meant to be "embodiments" of these in the story.

○ Talon Sonja Townsend represents Faith, driving home her belief in G*d's absolute destiny. She is corrupted by her own selfish goal of eliminating her son-in-law, but is also so by-the-book she does not think to look at the obvious double-standards of the Court, and doesn't think her underlying actions are guided by "Evil".

○ Talon Adam represents Perseverance, having fought Joker to unconsciousness, and was willing to blow up Arkham with himself still inside just to eliminate it; he is the most brainwashed, but the least corrupt in motivations, only striving to get what he feels is "justice". On the flip side of Adam is Talon Evan, who despite serious injury still appeared in Court and jumped at the chance to kill Joker and Batman, despite the Court's general appreciation of Batman; he is corrupt in personal selfishness, as he possesses no "real" faith in the Court's belief system and doesn't like others getting credit by stealing his targets.

§ ...it's also worth mentioning that the names for Adam and Evan are meant to be derivative of "Adam and Eve". In this way, it can also be seen as a parallel to The Lovers card, which one can attribute to Bruce and John. While Bruce + John are oddly harmonious and undeniably have a strong bond regardless of story paths, Adam + Evan are discontent rivals, with Adam "stealing" Evan's target and good graces with the Court, and Evan very pointedly beating up and kidnapping Batman (who Adam admires) to set up Batman's eventual Judgement.

○ Reverend Sebastian Overfield is the main representation of Justice, though he embodies all 3 principles. The Court’s belief is that their pursuit of justice – stopping Evil/chaos via deaths of criminals – overrides their own traditional sins. Because they are being helpful to G*d, granting Them mercy by righting the injustices of Evil and putting G*d’s Word back on the right path, they are in G*d’s favor. Therefore, as the leader of the Court and the one who organized everything by handing down "God's word", he is the carrier of Justice; without him, the Court would be nowhere and G*d would be shedding more tears over their ruined work…at least, in his mind. Naturally, he is the exact opposite of what justice should be. He is biased and unwavering in strict faith, as much a carrier of chaos as he doesn't want to be…

○ Of course, this is all also up to interpretation. One can interpret Adam as "justice", Evan as "perseverance", and Sebastian as the stand-in for "God", as he is the Court's ruler and is the sole person to hand down "the word of God".

"[…]if two people you normally count on for one reason or another" - Alfred made a subtle dig at John being Bruce's boy-toy. Ouch, Al'…

"[…]given it's your pet project, and all" - Even though Selina is talking about Arkham, she's making a dig at former-Arkham-resident John being Bruce's "pet", who in her eyes was Bruce's main reason for getting Arkham revitalized. :\ Man, everybody's picking on their relationship…

petrichor - The smell proceeding rain. Because it's not a climactic fight scene in Gotham city without rain.

Ch. 11: The Tolls of Justice

[chapter title] - Naturally referring to the Justice card of the tarot, this title is the same as the story title. Funnily enough, this is the 11th chapter, and the 11th card in the tarot deck. (I guarantee you I did not plan this bit… Funny how these things play out, ain't it?) The Justice card naturally stands for cause and effect, clarity, or truth; ultimately, it's a representation of karmic retribution, and what the Owls are in dire need of facing. The title overall is referring to both the [para]phrase "do not ask for whom the bell tolls, for it tolls for thee" (in the original context: a grievance over death for all out of love for community/mankind, not just one person) and the "toll" - as in cost or damage - of enacting justice. What Bruce has put himself through to become and keep being Batman, the enactor of vengeance for all those wronged in the city of Gotham, and what ultimately the Court of Owls has sacrificed - either wittingly or unwittingly - in the name of justice. It also extends to John, who for the sake of "justice" is routinely stuck in Arkham, in one way or another, and has never had a conceivably just or fair life at all - thus paying the unwilling toll opposing Bruce and the Owls. We can also extend it to Tiffany, who is making good on her work with Bruce to "pay her toll" for her own crime, with her toll being seen in a positive light as Robin, compared to what life sentence she might have been paying otherwise.

[the sword in the pulpit] - a symbolic reference to The Justice card, as the Justice card in the major arcana often depicts a sword, either alone or in someone's hand. This can also be interpreted as a reference to the Ace of Swords in the minor arcana, which is normally pointing upwards, referring to victory, truth, or ideas; when flipped, as it would be when looking at the initial depiction of the sword as a "cross", it stands for lies and confusion. The sword in the story itself is a symbol of justice, and uses snakes as the stand-in for the forces of Evil, which are destroyed by the owl making up the handle and supposedly wielding the blade.

"the skull peeking out of the knight’s helmet" [card in the box on Reverend's desk] - A very clear reference to the Death card, famous in the tarot deck. It signifies change, inevitable cycles, and new beginnings/directions. Depending on the reading, it can be interpreted as an actual death, but more often than not it’s merely showing of a life change. As this is the Reverend’s deck, it seems the last card he drew was Death… The viewer can interpret this as a reading from the Reverend into the Arkham plot, where Death is representing John’s own changes, the end of Talon Adam’s latest “cycle”, or the actual deaths that had occurred (no matter how many there are in the end). The viewer can also read this as the Reverend trying to find his own fate, the fate of Roman Sionis for his trial, or Batman’s fate. All of them are quite valid, but I feel the most accurate interpretation is that the Rev' was trying to read the future of the Court of Owls.

○ …as mentioned above, the Death card is the most overt reference to the Tarot. This way, if someone didn't piece together the weird chapter titles, the specified numbers and number-letter strings, and/or the odd names of people and places, they'd be able to double-back and see them as clues. They are put there purely as a storytelling clue for the audience. As you can tell, the tarot references increased with each chapter…almost like someone is trying to get your attention…

[the framed painting] - a reference to The High Priestess, aka card II of the tarot. This card is indicative of intuition and looking within, and can signal to mysteries at hand or a higher power at work. The pillars on the card are (hilariously enough) marked with a B and J, and are in black and white, respectively. They stand for Boaz (Strength) and Jachin (Establishment), and are meant to represent the duality of nature, good/evil, masculine/femine, etc. Naturally, both pillars are equal. In this depiction, it is both relating to “the player’s” own duality, with the ability to be flexible as Bruce and John and have both good and bad decisions play through the story, and as a strong hint to a higher power being present.

8-9-6-3 [candle puzzle] - It takes a bit to work out by sorting through the alphabetic values to each number, but it doesn’t make a complete word. On ye olde phone keypad, 1 is always null in value, so it’s always unlit in the candle sequence, and since there are 4 other numbers present we know it doesn’t count as part of the string. (If there were only 3, you could guess a year from your notes.) My idea for the “game” specs of this part would be that the key-code would be somewhat randomized, either using a specific year (if Tiffany and/or Iman are not present, this is *always* the case, as you have to utilize your background notes and the candles by yourself), a few translated letter combinations just for fun, or an occasional number-card type combo, as presented here. (In some lucky scenarios, “the player” doesn’t have to solve the candle puzzle, since Tiffany can figure out the year by herself and just call you over when she opens the door. You still have the option of looking around, though!) In this case, the values are another tarot-themed hint, using the card number first: 8-w-n-d, for the 8 of Wands, which alludes to quick actions. AKA “Get ready for quick-time events!!!”

"looking more like the king on the throne than a judge" - Meant to allude to The Emperor card, the ultimate royal symbol in the major arcana and always depicted with a king. Traditionally this symbolizes power, authority, control, etc., but when reversed it alludes to overbearingness, arrogance, and chaos. For the Owls, they would likely see themselves as the upright depictions, even when presented upside down before the person doing their reading… And here is no better example, with the Reverend Overfield taking place as the ultimate authority over the Court.

"like [Sonja] had a say in commanding the room" - Alluding to The Empress, in conjunction with Rev’s position, this card alludes to femininity, motherhood, nurturing, creativity, and/or abundance. When reversed, it stands for neglect, creative blocks, overbearing, and/or uncaring. Sonja is a good example of an overbearing mother, trying to make decisions for her child because she thinks she knows best - thus fits the reversed reading well.

[Courtroom layout] - How curious is it that I haven't referenced The Devil when we have so many opportunities? That's because I strove to show this card rather than reference it overtly. The Devil card depicts El Diablo in the upper middle, lording over the card, with two souls chained to him at the bottom. The classic depiction shows a female demon-like human on one side and a male demon-like human on the other. As such, Rev. Sebastian sits on the high bench as the judge, overlooking the courtroom, and Sonja and Evan sit beneath him, one embedded on each side of the lower bench, sitting before him rather than beside him. Naturally, The Devil card represents temptation, manipulation, and materialism (though not necessarily of physical things). There is nothing more suited to The Devil card than the Reverend Sebastian Overfield and the Talons.

Circe | Cindy Peterson - Circe was the original Black Mask's downfall, or at least serious decent into who would be Black Mask. In her origin, she was a model who seduced Roman and ended up being blamed for his poor business choices, as he completely revolved Janus Inc.'s new direction around her image, somewhat at her insistence. Roman seemed to love her, but grew vengeful when she dumped him. She was named Circe, after the witch who lured men to their doom. In this story, she plays a much less active role but ultimately still serves as Roman's downfall, though in a very different way. : she does seem to care about Roman, going so far as to hide him on her yacht, not rat him out for his overt gang activities, and even leave Gotham with him for good to run from Batman despite not being in a relationship with him for long. But Bruce is able to spin this to his advantage, openly lying that she was working for him undercover and twisting Roman's affection for her into paranoid doubt, which he eventually lashed out with and ended up being caught because of. Circe never got a ~proper~ name in the original canon, so I dubbed her Cindy. The name "Cindy" can be boiled down to “person from Kynthos” and since Circe is Greek… Well, it fits well enough!

"[…]waltzing into the danger-zone without his wingman" - It’s Top Gun's “You can be my wingman anytime”, but with ALL the homoerotic implications!

"the Degnah Club" - The Degnah Club can be inferred to be one of Roman Sionis’ clubs, or just one his False-Face Society visited on occasion, but the event that happened there is implied to have taken place before the start of the story. “Degnah” when written backwards is “hanged”, referencing the Hanged Man card. When upright, this card means sacrifice and selfless acts. When reversed, as very much implied here, it’s an unnecessary sacrifice. This is both a play on what Roman’s implying – which is likely a very violent event – being an “unnecessary sacrifice” as part of Matt Chaney’s greater scheme for the Court of Owls, and as an allusion to Matt’s fate, where his morals/good choices/old law-abiding life were thrown away for an inevitably failed pursuit.

"[Tiffany | Robin's] personal count of 13" - The 13th card in the tarot is Death, bringer of change and ender of cycles. It’s also a traditionally unlucky number. This number is the “body-count” of Tiffany’s run through the Court so far. Does it reference the end of the Court's latest cycle, or something else…?

Accompanying the Tarot, as mentioned earlier I also tied in other fortune-telling methods, with the counting of crows and reference to the zodiacal horoscope. I also threw in allusions to luck, with The Lucky Hotel and The Lot (in both name and the fact that it's a casino). This is all tied entirely around the concept of fate and being able to change it with the choices you have made or currently make as "the player". Luck itself has nothing to do with your choices and the fates you guide Bruce and John to, and it's not something "the player" can control - it's an illusion, with things seemingly lucky for our heroes having already been written in on purpose to lead to the next event. It's essentially a long, drawn-out joke.

Talons/Reverend's Owl Masks - I wanted the Talons to be set apart from the rest of the Court and have special owl faces. The Court's owl masks are as follows:

○ Talon Adam - Great Horned Owl; chosen for the owl's large size and hunting ability, as well as the protruding "horn" feathers mimicking Batman's cowl. This is the most common owl used in media. The "horns" are meant to clue the reader into the culprit early on. Adam's a Batman-fan, so he mimicked Bats' style.

○ Talon Sonja - Snowy Owl; chosen for the owl's fairly elegant feather pattern and Sonja's ~colder~ personality. Sonja had a masquerade one to show her "humane" side to prospective Owls, but always wears a full-faced mask for the rest of the Court.

○ Talon Evan - Barn Owl; chosen for it's ghost-like face and screeching call, and it's hunting skills. They sometimes are seen as bad omens. While Adam was a mysterious stalker, Evan is overtly dangerous upon appearance, in no due part to his temper.

○ Reverend Sebastian Overfield - Eastern Screech Owl; this owl is smaller than the other, but has similar "horn" feathers to the Great Horned, and a gray face. The "horns" are meant to be another a mirror to Batman, but can be considered another allusion to The Devil. It isn't the largest or flashiest owl of the bunch, but Sebastian has the most power of all the Court members.

[The "Justice" bell-toll] - traditionally, a church bell tolls to signify someone passing into death. In the Court/Church of Mercy's case, they use a bell rung at midnight to signify a complete "trial" and a carry-out of their own brand of "justice"…which also culminates in death. The "trial" shown in this chapter is a rarity, as the offenders are actually present to get a talking-to before their sentencing - generally, the Church will hold a mock-trial to decide the fates of the perpetrators…after some previous counseling with Talons and select older members. (Think of the Trial like a ceremonial conference for the majority of the time.)

Chapter 12: Ten Cheers to the World!

[title] - The act of cheering, aka toasting, is to raise a cup and drink towards someone or something in celebration or tribute. Here, it's referring to the tarot's Ten (X) of Cups, which is pretty much the best card you could pull in a reading - when upright, as it is here, it means celebration, fulfillment, and happiness! The World card is the final card in the Major Arcana, encapsulating completion, accomplishment, and harmony, all from inner and outer sources. It might seem redundant at first, but the Cups suite in the Minor Arcana is all in regards to emotions, relationships, and love; in comparison, the Major Arcana represents a journey from innocence and ignorance to wisdom and completion. So you have an emotional celebration with fulfilling relationships, and the story's path marked as complete in both a literal and figurative sense.

"An accident at Ace Chemicals" [Iman & John's convo] - Referencing the majority of Joker origins, wherein pre-Joker fell into the vat of chemicals at Ace Chemicals and survived, leading to a psychotic breakdown due to his changed appearance and/or the circumstances around to what led him to Ace Chemicals in the first place.

"the string of deaths in the Velestra mafia" [Iman & John's convo] - a ref to the former mafia/main antagonists in Batman: Mask of the Phantom that kept getting killed off one by one by the Phantom. Whether The Phantom exists in this world…we'll have to wait and see, I guess!

"an unrecoverable ‘data loss’ at the Agency" [Iman & John's convo] - not a reference to canon, but my own theory on a potential background for John being a former Agent…(see further below)

"Et tu, Peeps?" - a riff on "Et tu, Brute?", Julius Ceasar's last words as he was betrayed and stabbed to death.

"Maybe I was someone in the wrong place at the wrong time" / "someone at the right place at the wrong time" [John monologue] - Another reference to the most popular background choice, the Ace Chemical origin story, and it’s variations. Though probably lacking Batsy’s involvement, considering the timeframe…

"Maybe I was some experiment gone wrong" [John monologue] - A reference to a different author's Season 3 replacement fanfic, where John ended up being a genetically modified human/test tube baby. Unfortunately the work got deleted from Ao3??? And my bookmark is gone, so I can't name the fic… But I still remember you, Unknown Author!!! It was a fun story and I've never forgotten that twist!!!! \( >o< )/

"Maybe I was even an Agent, like you" [John monologue] - My own little theory as to why the Agency was so keen on getting him for the Suicide Squad – and why he was considered a dangerous part of the gang despite not doing too much of interest in Season 1 (even if you consider the theory that he was helping Lady Arkham get her chemicals/drugs) – was that he was part of the Agency somehow. Either an agent who screwed up on the job, a rogue agent that escaped death via Agency trap…or maybe a guy who knew too much! But it's a fun, fresh idea to bring to Joker's multi-choice past, right? (( ;w;)) <(please say yes)

hippocampus - The region(s) of the brain that primarily deals with memory.

[the photo] - I wanted to leave it up to the reader/"player" to decide what kind of pre-Arkham past the TellTale!Joker has… So whether you think the picture Iman has is a "real" photo of him or not is entirely up to you.

"[…]'you're the moon to my sun'" [John, 'paraphrasing' Bruce] - In Tarot terms, this is a reference to the Sun card, representing joy, success, and masculinity, as well as another reference to the Moon card. One can also interpret the Sun card as "success in overcoming your obstacles or fears". As the Moon card can represent inner fears and femininity, it's a fitting opposite for interpreting this romantic line. While Bruce doesn't exactly embody the "positivity" and "joy" that this card represents, he brings that feeling into John's life, and Bruce is more traditionally masculine in contrast to John. This is also an overt use of the phrase "[they're] the moon to their sun" - a romantic notion that one person, though the opposite to the other, is completely complementary, like a One True Love. TeamFourStar's playthrough of TellTale Batman: The Enemy Within had not one, but TWO mentions of the "moon to [their] sun" line, the second of which was referring to John and Bruce. This one's for you, fellas!!! ( ^3^)

○ Funnily enough, The Moon is a very broadly interpreted card. Sometimes it's not a good card to have because deception, manipulation, illusion, and mystery/confusion are all potentially at work in your life. Sometimes it's an excellent card, because it tells you examine your feelings to resolve a problem, or tells you that you aren't seeing the whole picture. The reversed of the card is often attributed to avoidance of one's problems and further confusion, but also clarity, truth, and the full view of what's going on. If John is the embodiment of The Moon in the upright position, then I say Bruce is that of the Reversed Moon…

"[…] two lovers against the world" - Another classic romantic phrase that can be turned into a Tarot reference. The original phrase is meaning two romantic partners are pitted against "the world"/external forces that threaten to tear them apart, but they are committed to each other regardless. You can't really pit cards against each other in a reading, but you can read Past-Present-Future. In which case, in story terms, The Fool is always the Past, The Lovers is the Present here, and The World is the Future. As mentioned earlier, The World represents harmony and completion - if reversed, it would mean incompletion and chaos. The Lovers card is representing a strong union being forged between two people, very often romantic in terms of the Tarot. The meaning is usually attributed to decisions in a relationship being made (whether to start a new one, or to deepen the one you have), but it can also represent people outright, as well as an indication that a new partnership/relationship is on the way. When reversed, Lovers represents disharmony, imbalance, or a loss of relationship. In our story, of course, our two lovers are representing the upright reading of the card in the Present, showing as a strong couple. As it's "against", it implies that The World is something that will be a challenge, so it's likely Reversed. Which is a pretty good representation of Gotham in general, isn't it? lol~

○ The Lovers can also be seen symbolically in chapters 8 and 9, when Bruce and John are laying opposite each other and linking pinkies/holding hands at the hotel. :)

○ John uses the romantic line regardless of whether he's a vigilante or not! If you didn't get the Best Ending, aka our Sleepover Ending, Bruce would wind up back in the parlor with John as usual, and once the rest of the fam are gone (if they were there at all), he uses it to describe themselves. In the villain route, Bruce and John converse in the Batmobile on the way back to Arkham, and John uses the line there, too. ;3c

○ Naturally, you don't really get this complete scene if "your" Bruce is with Selina in the vigilante route.

Ending Type - …it's not a tarot reference or anything specific. I just wanted to let you know that you can ONLY get the Sleepover Ending if you have Tiffany and John in Bruce's party on good terms with each other AND with Bruce.

○ You can drive Tiffy away from Bruce by saying she shouldn't be with them at the Court Battle, but also by generally not believing in her/being mean and giving a neutral reaction to her staying during Battle; she won't go back to the cave with Bruce, so you don't get a chance to speak to her directly afterwards as either character. (John can still have his conversation with her via text, and they can still end on the same terms.)

○ If you don't have vigilante!John, there's no one else to help lift the things, so Tiffy's idea is never brought up.

○ John is always simping desperate for Bruce's attention, so even if you don't treat him as well in a platonic relationship, he'll still be there for this Ending type. ;_;

○ If you have a Romanced!Selina in your party, Selina will join you in both Court Battle and the Ending as seen in this story. It'll either cause her to take Iman's place (if she is not present) or to have extra spot suddenly appear above the rest of the group. Like Tiffy, she overheats and needs more space too cool off.

§ You can also talk to her as John, and sort of makeup/say your part of the team now. (But John will still be somewhat jealous of the attention she gets.)

§ John doesn't get the emotional hug with Bruce if Selina is around - especially since she doesn't temporarily leave with Tiffany and Iman - but the conversation is almost the same.

§ Naturally you can talk to her as Bruce, too. I don't think on her options too much, but they'll likely talk about change and what it means to have this "job" and internalizing too much of their emotions/themselves.

§ If you and Selina are only friends, Selina can join you in the Court Battle, but will text you instead of sticking around.

1:06 A.M & [Clock time on Belltower in Chapter 11] - Bruce's sense of time is off, which is why he's surprised it's after 1AM and not closer to 2AM. (Can't blame him, he was unconscious for a while and a whole bunch of stuff happened.) I figured if Bruce broke out of his kidnapping ropes at 10PM sharp, and drove all the way to the GCPD, that's about 20-30 minutes in his supercharged car, if not a little less, plus with 5 minutes to escape proper. If we think GCPD is sort of a halfway point to Old Gotham/The Coventry district, it's another 15 minutes to there. So he'd arrive at the Church of Mercy before 11PM, and wait John for around another 10-15 minutes, including with all the investigating inside. The "trial" scene probably took another 10 minutes until Batman crashed it, and fight scenes seem long because of all the action going on, but by the time Bruce and co' leave, it's not 12AM yet. The bell-tower in the Church of Mercy is actually off by about 20 minutes… And what do you know, card XX (20) of the tarot's Major Arcana is Judgement, alluding to karma at work! It can also be attributed to a life change. ;D

"11:43:20PM" - this wasn't deliberately meant to allude to anything. It took the batfam about 2 minutes from the last toll to leave the church. Bells' tolling speed is varying between clocks and towers, but you can estimate about 30-45 seconds for a full twelve. If it rang at 11:40 exactly, then���ugh, this is sounding like math homework.

Epilogue:

[Still a WIP, so will be updated after it's uploaded! Shouldn't have much, though! Saay, isn't there a Major Arcana card missing? (9v9) I wonder what that iiiiis~]

So that was [just about] all of them! I had a lot of fun weaving them throughout the story this time, especially with the story's themes! AtBoM didn't have as nearly as many, so they weren't really worth mentioning before.

I hope this was helpful to those of you who were interested in diving beneath the surface of BtTTS: TToJ~!

[stray-tori]

TPN S02E06 - Initial Thoughts (anime-only)

hhh everything went wrong with my reaction video this time - the video is lagging (so i replaced the screenrecording with the actual episode), also facecam broken so my friends won’t get to see me tearing up and the wrong mic input was recorded so I’m sorry for the shitty quality. I’m so upset :(

Edit: Google Drive Link! :)

.

I don’t even know what to really talk about because I liked everything?? it was such a good episode and I just... AHHH. I wish we had so much more of THIS. please give them more seasons.... ik its already too late for that but pleaseee fidusdj- they just... do so well when they adapt imo. the whole comparison panels I’ve seen of the interactions with Norman, I just... genuinely think it’s such a highpoint and they did so friggin well.

I just... I’m so sad this will likely be the last season. I hope we’ll get more, in whatever form. I know there’s the manga and unless we get an announcement about more anime content at light speed, I do plan on reading it! I just... I love the anime. And it’s art. The manga’s art is unique but the style isn’t my jam and some stuff just looks a bit too stylized for my liking hhhh-

That won’t stop me but... it does make me emotional, I guess.

Let’s hope they stay on this path now that they’ve joined back in with the manga, somewhat (still, you couldnt even give them 12 episodes??).

.

. the reunion

It gave me flutters!! it’s so nice and intimate and sweet and dusdhj- THE NORMAN SQUISH. And him noticing Emma’s ear is gone TvT Her sweet, kinda embarrassed “I left it back at home” efiojsd

also the clothing line here separates the two groups, alluding to the conflict between them later in the episode. They’re strangers on two sides, and Norman is the only connecting piece.

I didn’t really dislike anything aside from Ray being left out. I just wanted them both to run for him I guess :( though it makes sense to be more distant, he also was at the shipment itself but idk, it just makes Norman seem so,,, rude that he doesn’t acknowledge Ray at all until Emma is like “hey btw I brought him too” :”D

Slap kinda deserved, on multiple fronts haha-

Though the mutual “baka” calling between Norman and Ray was adorable duihdasjdas

.

. Emma’s arc

a few days ago, I made that whole “anime emma’s arc” post about her feeling useless and how that might come into play - and I do hope they address it and I think they kind of are? Because GF arc Emma was always ready to have her way, even if it seemed impossible.

Either way, I feel like part of why she didn’t speak up is kind of as alluded to, that she doesn’t feel like she has the right to when she doesn’t know any other way right now. And I hope that in the next few episode we will see her headstrong and do things and be pro-active and kind of challenge that and Norman.

.

. Norman (+ his crew)

It was kind of on the nose when Norman held that whole speech about what she had said before, a small hint to it would have been enough I feel like, for the audience -- because I think realizing that part of his motivation in all of this was just her words and that he wanted to do that for her (I think that’s the implication) is really sweet. He is kind of the carrier here and I hope that will change because it feels like we haven’t earned this bio weapon at all - which is okay, because it probably won’t be the solution, so it’s more of a plot-moving element than an actual solution. And I hope that whatever the solution really does entail will feel less like an ass-pull and more deserved.

I feel it may have been interesting to have a pov switch somewhere in ep4 or ep5 to Norman and what he’s been up to. The reveal was kind of “...? okay?” anyway so I feel like that would have made things a little interesting, but I also really enjoy getting to know his squad now.

I’m also HIGHKEY SUS (all alarm bells are ringing) at Norman being like “Oh I just did tests” like.... BABY. PRECIOUS SON, ARE YOU PRETENDING EVERYTHING’S FINE AGAIN?

The fact that Norman didn’t bother explaining further just solidifies (to me, anyway) that he’s avoiding talking about it somewhat. He spoke about it very distantly and from an objective viewpoint.

Alone getting that tattoo on his chest must have hurt a lot. So. Please, give me a lot of angst, CW.

I hope both him and his crew will get some flashbacks or trauma moments to really solidify how badly they’ve been treated (and deliver some juicy angst).

I really loved the close-up on the meat Barbara was eating in that scene too. I felt like it didn't even have to spell it out for us that they're eating demon meat but. Oh well - it was well conveyed but I guess the characters had to confirm.

I also love that whole part about how he’s always cold to them auidhjhs - I really do feel like making a gif out of that haha.

Lambda person: “Boss?” Norman: “What? :/” Emma/Ray: “Norman!” Norman: “Yes? :)”

Also only vaguely related but what’s with people who are made to be eaten, in a state of “dead??? who knows” and then coming back as a “boss” :D Yes I’m talking about beastars.

.

. Mujika

Norman called her the “evil-blooded girl” and the old guy called the temple “evil-blooded” too. And he said it wasn’t a place for kids to be --- and he likely assumed that they were demon kids.

Also some nice clue before we even know to connect Mujika with the temple.

A demon temple that’s “evil-blooded” and too dangerous for demon kids?

It could just be because it’s a ruin, but he IS praying for the world to change there. Mujika seems to be able to maintain her form without eating humans, so maybe that’s what this is all aiming towards.

I guess it also means that the statue with the violet veil is Mujika??? She does have purple hair I suppose.

At first, I was surprised that Norman recognized her just by the description - there’s more than one demon girl :D but I guess only one demon girl who doesn’t need to eat humans? - and I thought he may have crossed paths with her.

But for that to be the case AND for him to assume she’s alive because Emma and Ray have met her, it can’t mean he actually MET her. Because well, RayEm met her like 2 months after his shipment. Assuming he didn’t break out immediately, he couldn’t have met AND tried to do something to her (likely kill). So my guess is that she’s some sort of legend or diety or just like, commonly known and she’s supposedly dead and he’s shocked because she isn’t.

He also first asked “where did you hear about that?” assuming he also only heard about it. Norman's reaction to them having met them also isn't "when?" (so he could confirm if it was after or before his supposed encounter with her), it's shock that they met her AT ALL. Which to me, implies that she's supposedly dead (which lines up with the temple in ruin, so something happened to her line, or whatever she's a part of). And since Norman couldn't have met her before their escape (Mujika hasn't seen a human when they meet the GF escapees), that's my conclusion.

Assuming she’s dead also makes sense since her (religion’s) temples seem to be in ruin. maybe that’s why no other demons seem to have that ability (that we know of), because it was lost when her presence was destroyed (therefore the ruins) or something of the sort.

She’s never seen a human before apparantly though, so I’m not sure what exactly that means. She doesn’t seem to have wanted freedom for humans prior to meeting them either (she only seemed hesitant about eating them after all that), so I’m not sure what her own motivation in having that sort of religion would even be.

There’s of course also sonju, so maybe it is after all a religion-thing? Who knows-

.

As I’ve talked about before, I think it makes a lot of sense if the demons are part of the solution, I’m just really curious what that solution actually entails for the demons / what exactly Mujika is. I still think it’s plausible that another promise between Mujika and Emma will happen, considering the narrative mirroring TPN does a lot.

.

. other random stuff

there’s mass production farms! I shouldn’t be surprised, but I hope we get to know more about those (likely not since yknow 5 episodes left and all that)

I also liked how they showed the different plants while talking about it, mirroring how we too mutated plants and some animals to further benefit our needs and exploitation...

The pep talk from Ray was good and the sunrise was SO BEAUTIFUL, TAKE ME NOW ANIMATORS

generally the animation, especially in the trio scene and the lambda squad hideout scenes, was so BEAUTIFUL

I liked that I kept joking about how the WM system was rly insecure if a random guy just dropped the pen for Krone to find, but NOW WE HAVE CONFIRMATION IT WAS INTENTIONAL and Smee is truly the MVP / big brain puppet master of this series.

It did seem kind of weird that Norman just left like "yeah this will probably be discovered soon. anyway, I'm leaving you here to go to my base, see ya" - LIKE BRO TAKE THEM WITH YOU SO YOU CAN PROTECT THEM IF THEY SHOW UP LIKE, TONIGHT

[mego42]

author meme redux

HELLO I’M BACK tagged by @septiembur  to talk about how swaying evergreens came about! 

okay so the backstory goes like this:

A friend of mine and I love playing this game we call to the pain where we send each other songs with instructions to listen to them and think about this ship/scene/story/etc and sit back and watch the other one go completely unhinged and incoherent bc the right song and the right dynamic will Do That To You. she also introduced me to tow’rs and we share a fairly rabid obsession with that band.

fast forward to this past december, she kicks down the door of my messages (or texts me, i suppose, if you want to be boring about it) like hey so tow’rs dropped a christmas album and even though i don’t really go here, special edition of to the pain, listen to swaying evergreens and think of brio. so i did and, even though the song was not a vibe i would generally gravitate towards for them, it hooked me and all i could think about was soft, quiet, snowed in morning sex bc like, idk, have y’all listened to it???? literally what else am i supposed to think about.

ANYWAY so that song lowkey ruined my life and i started crying to @foxmagpie about it as i do. she went a touch feral over the concept and even though i kept saying stuff like but megan! how did they get snowed in? why are they soft with each other? how did they get there from s3? she kept saying stuff like WHO CARES MEG OH MY GOD JUST WRITE IT. it slowly took root in my head and one night i literally sat straight up in the middle of the night (being married to me is SO FUN) like OH WAIT WHAT ABOUT LISTENING VERSE and I decided to write it for megan as a present.

As far as the backstory stuff goes, I’ve alluded to it a bit on here but I’ve lost a bunch of people this year and without getting too into it, one of those losses was very fresh when I got serious about writing swaying evergreens. I’ve been thinking a lot about grief and memory and how it shapes you in ways that never unshape and how we carry pieces of the people we love with us inside ourselves. All of that was compounded by a lot of angst over not being able to be with my family this holiday season and thinking about our traditions throughout the year (shamelessly stole the its a wonderful life stuff from my dad). Additionally I’ve always been mmmm I guess extremely conscious of how little the show gives us with so many of the characters’ backstories (I know we like to point to Rio a lot and true!! extremely valid! but also like, what holidays do Beth and Annie celebrate, you know? they’re all pretty blank slate) and that’s something I haven’t really engaged with much in my fic but something I want to try and get into more.

idek where I’m going with any of this but all of that was on my mind and ended up mixing together with the quiet little romantic pwp I initially wanted to write and the result was swaying evergreens which, fun fact! i have not been able to go back and reread since I posted it because I’m still a touch raw over the whole thing tbh, hahaha.

tl;dr go listen to tow’rs christmas album the holly & the ivy bc even if you’re not into christmas music (which i am VEHEMENTLY AGAINST TBH) it’s beautiful and i love it a lot.

tagging @pynkhues to tell me in detail how fake dating is going to feature in the pirate au which is not at all the point of this meme but she dropped that grenade as i was getting ready to post this and now i can’t think about anything else

okay but also @riosnecktattoo to tell me about how she came to foist clown porn upon us all or heart and soul bc i’m obsessed (or both both is good)

and @bathroombreaks to tell me about the origin of the howl’s au that lives rent free in my head

meme questions

recently I have become really fascinated with fanfic authors and what exactly was rumbling around in their brain that inspired a fic?

Was it a line of dialogue you couldn’t get out of your head?

A scene you wrote WAY in advance and then crafted the whole story around?

An image in your mind?

Inspiration from another form of media?

Maybe someone suggested something to you and it just TOOK off from there?

What is the root of your fic? The cornerstone -what is it all built around? The idea that started it all?

Tag an author & their fic. Let’s hear about what sparked your story. What exactly got your booty movin’ shakin’ motivated and writin’

[sapphireemeralds]

DnD Ask Meme - DM edition!  Both the meme itself and the questions answered here are courtesy @thejenesaisquoigirl

3) Describe your DM style. Has it evolved or changed?

     Essentially, (1) There’s a general plot and plan here, but it’s up to the players exactly we proceed, (2) rules are good guidelines, but instincts and common sense are better, (3) math is only important in combat, and (4) in-depth RP is highly encouraged.  I also go a little ham on the world-building - food and folklore in particular, as y’all have noticed - and try to devote a few hours to prep a day or two before the next session.

     As for how my style’s changed... well, for one, I’m not scared shitless of improv anymore!  And this hasn’t changed yet, but I intend to change it after we wrap up the current story arc - fewer tag-along NPCs.  Juggling 4+ NPCs in combat and every conversation is NOT fun, and doesn’t do the individual characters any favors.

8) What is your favorite house rule? Homebrew item? Piece of lore?

     House rule: We... don’t really have a lot of those, so I guess how we roll stats?

     Homebrew item: As proud as I am of The Green Lady’s Lyre and the Crown Jewels, I gotta give it to the magical hair dye from Witches Wander.

     Piece of lore: God, there’s a LOT of lore to choose from.  Celebrations like La Fioritura and the Festival of the Flame were fun to plan, but the Dragon Kings and the Court of the Winter Moon turned out to be so important to the main plot of P&C, I gotta go with them.

10) How do you plot out your story while also integrating PC backstory?

     I start off plotting the main story and the integration of PC backstories separately, but keep an eye out for places they can intersect, either due to geography/proximity or due to shared goals that may motivate antagonists from the PCs’ backstories to ally with the main story’s antagonist(s).  The goal, though, is to make the main conflict immediately relevant to all the characters, regardless of the commonalities and divergences in their backstories - it presents a direct threat to all the PCs, or to the people they love, or to the very world as they know it, or all of the above.  One PC’s backstory may not be enough to motivate all the PCs and drive the plot forward without it feeling forced; however, sprinkling everyone’s backstory bits throughout the adventure keeps people on their toes and results in some dramatic reveals and great RP.

11) Do you ever ship your PCs with other PCs and/or your NPCs? If so, describe your favorite of both and why.

     Oh HELL yeah!

     PC/PC: Jax/Talise, 100% - watching that slow-burn get warmer and warmer is immensely satisfying.  Also, Quiggley/Briony, because they’re precious and wholesome and Q tries so hard but has no idea what he’s doing, god love him.

     PC/NPC: Nothing’s clicked yet.  Theoretically, any NPC that’s single is datable/fuckable, but with two inter-party-member ships, the opportunities for that are now limited.  It’s up to you, Caspian! 😉

14) Do you enjoy when a PC contributes something original to your narrative or lore? What’s been your favorite player addition big and small?

     Absolutely!  It’s good collaborative story-telling, it adds fun little details that breathe extra life into the characters, and it helps really ground the PCs in the world where the story takes place.  (Most modules don’t have this much narrative flexibility, which is, in my opinion, one of their major downsides.)  I loved your addition that, yes, actually, the founding “myth” of the Court of the Winter Moon is factual, and the references to what Hozanna and Yanis’s relationship was like growing up; the Green Lady Stewards are also tons of fun and I look forward to bringing them back when Baroness McDowell isn’t breathing down everyone’s necks.

16) How do you balance multiple PC storylines and their different playing styles?

     Still figuring out how to do that, honestly.  Because both groups I’ve DM’d for thus far are well-established and full of players who generally prefer emotive RP over combat or classic dungeon-delving, I haven’t had to balance different play styles.  As for storylines, though, I just try to give everyone a turn in the spotlight; if someone seems a little dissatisfied or disengaged, I try to focus on them for a bit, check in on what their character’s doing and how they and their character are feeling.

17) Do you like it when they give you a lot of backstory or when they give you very little?

     My greedy ass will take as much backstory as a player can stand to give me.  The more juicy details I can incorporate and allude to somewhere along the line, the better.

19) What was your favorite moment that has ever happened in your campaigns?

     Oh god, I can’t pick just one, uh, HIGHLIGHTS

Jax just straight-up giving his name to a puca and having no idea why that’s a bad idea

Ponce & Circumstance’s reaction to finding out Q’s real age

Zone of Truth or... Truth.  (I would love to see a version that does include some Dares, because my god.  The resulting shenaniganery would be beautiful.)

20) What do you consider to be your greatest success as a DM?

     I’m honestly just glad to see y’all having fun.  There’s a lot that I want to do differently if I ever run another homebrew campaign, but for now, if you guys are happy, I am, too. 💕

[firstdove15]

2019 Fic Roundup

I actually wrote enough this year to answer most of these questions. 😂 If you haven’t done this yourself, feel free to join in the fun! ❤️💕

Stats

Total words written: 18,030

Shortest story: The Death of a Montague (832)

Longest story: Akane One-Half (ongoing) (14k+ in general; roughly 11k this year, FFN)

Fics Posted (Gen)

Akane One-Half: More like updating because I’ve been writing on and off for two years but I did add three chapters this year.

Through the Forest: It’s technically gen because Pidge and Lance don’t have romantic feelings for each other (yet). It was completely inspired by @krissychan2 ’s art of them as nymph and fairy respectively.

Fics Posted (Plance)

Love from the Future - Inspired by a prompt generator that said to write about a person who gets a typewriter and finds a love letter from the future and they attempt to find that person. I didn’t follow the prompt to the T but I had fun with it. And getting encouragement from @rueitae during the letter part meant a lot because I was worried about it staying in-character and whether or not it was going to be too fluffy. X3

Chocolat - Self-indulgent oneshot inspired by a little college get together. XD It was actually originally going to be part of a multichapter story (that I thoroughly outlined from beginning to end, no less!) but it just didn’t work out. OTL

Fics Posted (Rosvolio)

The Death of a Montague - The prompt was to write a fic based on a song for Rosvolio and I knew right away I wanted to do it to Brendon Urie’s Death of a Bachelor. Plus I’m a sucker for guys taking on the wives’ last name. XD

Specifics

Best Title: The Death of a Montague. Only because of Brendon Urie though since his title was genius to describe a man happily getting married. Same thing here on top of Benvolio cutting off the last remaining ties to his abusive uncle.

Worst Title: Probably Through the Forest. I could’ve picked a better title to reflect the game Lance was playing on Pidge or his motives, but *shrugs*.

Favorite opening lines:

-

“I caught you, you sneaky little bastard!”

The fairy in her hands didn’t even try to struggle from her grasp. Instead he licked the remaining berry juice off the corner of his lips and grinned at her. “So you have, little nymph.”

-

I was fresh off of writing for Akane One-Half so, yeah, that’s why you’re seeing swearing from me here. XP

Favorite closing lines:

-

The card included two ticket stubs for the Killbot Phastasm movie that long faded. He wondered if Lance knew she kept it all these years.

He put the card down and got to work. He’d let him find it. It would be another opportunity for her to talk about her feelings with current Lance rather than past Lance.

He smiled at the thought.

Tonight would be a good night.

-

Endings aren’t my strong suits but I did like tying up the stable time loop. XD

General Questions:

- Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Given my personality, just about what I predicted. I wish I had done more though. Oh well, that’s what 2020 is going to be for. XD

- What pairing/genre/fandom did you write most?

Plance/fluff/Voltron respectively. Especially fluff because The Death of a Montague was fluffy and Akane One-Half had some fluff toward the end of the last chapter I posted on FFN.

- What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

Rosvolio/Still Star-Crossed for sure! I wish I hadn’t taken so long with the soulmate AU but I’m still in the middle of writing it so it’ll be for this year. XD

- Did you take any writing risks this year?

Other than trying to get familiar with Pidge and Lance’s personality? Not really. 😅 I almost did with one of the oneshots in mind to take place after Through the Forest (I actually had a rough draft of it), but I was worried one of them would be too dark. I mean, I’ve written dark stuff before, but someone probably would’ve been like, “What the heck, Faye?!” and I wouldn’t have blamed them one bit. XDD

- Do you have any fanfic or general writing goals for the new year?

Well, I saved up and got a new laptop so I’m just hoping I’ll be more productive this year writing wise.

- What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest?

Hoo, boy. Tie between Through the Forest and Love from the Future. The former because I was happy to write something coherent inspired by a beautiful piece of art and the latter because fluff. ❤️💕

- Okay, NOW your most popular story.

Definitely Love from the Future and I’m okay with that. XD

- Story most underappreciated by the universe:

Haha, Chocolat. Which I am also okay with because 1) It was literally just posted and 2) It was super self-indulgent. XP

- Story that could’ve been better:

The Death of a Montague. Most of my energy went into the sonnet (it took me HOURS to compose that sonnet alone 😂) so I felt like I didn’t put as much heart into the rest of the story. T_T. But a good amount of people enjoyed it and I appreciated that.

- Story with the sexiest scene:

HAHAHAHA! I JUST CAN WRITE A CHASTE KISS SCENE.

- Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

N/A. Again, if I had gone with that oneshot as a sequel to Through the Forest, that would have been a different story. To be fair, it was going to follow the aftermath of the Thing™ rather than during, but still….

- Saddest story?

Eh, none of them really? I mean Through the Forest has super light angst but only toward the end. Pidge clearly missing her brother and the story alluding to Lance having lost someone permanently. The second other sequel would have been part fluffy part angsty but… there is a reason I haven’t gone through with them for editing/posting…

- Most fun?

Let me shake it up and say Akane One-Half. XD Everything is still a puzzle and I think I’m getting the gist of how most events will go.

- Story with single sweetest moment?

Chip and his scenes with Lance and Pidge, I think in Love from the Future. ❤️💕

- Hardest story to write?

I mean, I had challenges with the parts that were supposed to be the meat of the story (e.g. the love letter and the sonnet) but outside of that I could recognize when something needed to be cut or expanded on and I’m happy for that.

- Easiest/Most fun story to write?

Chocolat. XD Got to include Hunk being a troll and not being afraid of Pidge’s wrath because he’s currently overseas. He has to come back to America sometime. 😂

- Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

That’s part of the point of me writing Akane One-Half. Wanted to see if changing the situation would change their characters and I’m having fun figuring it out. Waiting for someone to complain about certain characterization later down the road but…*shrugs*

- Most overdue story?

Complete wise: The Death of a Montague

WIP wise: The Rosvolio soulmate AU. I got a bit ambitious on how the whole soulmate thing works in that AU and I’m working on it not being so info dumpy. 😅

- What are your fic writing goals for next year?

1) Finish the Rosvolio soulmate AU fic

2) Update Akane One-Half faster (Like I legit have two arcs written in first drafts and detailed notes for the two arcs after that. I have no excuse 😂).

3) Write that Plance Vampire/Fledgling-esque AU. I will figure something out, dangit.

4) MAYBE write a long ATLA oneshot based on that Probending AU an artist made for Katara, Toph, and Azula with Suki as their coach. It wouldn’t take me long to find the artist and give credit if I do go this route. Just thought it’d be fun to explore Azula’s character based on what Aaron Ehaz had in mind.

5) (super tentative) Write that oneshot idea I had for Dororo. I miss my babies. 😭

Welp, that was fun! Saw @rueitae ’s post and wanted to give it a shot if I published four things and updated one this year. 👍 Hope you guys have fun with this is you decide to do it!

[usagi-chan95]

So a few days ago I was on TV tropic looking up a few shows I like and of course I'm a huge Umineko Fan so I looked up the character and everybody who knows me just a little bit now I said I ship this one character with Black Hat. So why not list all hee traits that he would probably like about her. In the end I think the two would get along with each other.

Affably Evil: She is completely indifferent towards the suffering of everybody else, but she sure is polite.

All-Powerful Bystander: She has more than enough power to solve any problem in the setting or destroy everything in the blink of an eye if she wanted to. Fortunately, Featherine prefers to remain a spectator for the most part while she lets Bernkastel cause all the trouble she wants. The one time she does intervene in the plot during her "fight" with Lambdadelta we see that everything would have been lost with Featherine as an active enemy.

Always Someone Better: Bernkastel is regarded as the strongest Witch, but even she knows not to get on Featherine's bad side. Even Lambdadelta, who was more than holding her own against Bernkastel earlier, is terrified at the thought of having Featherine as an opponent. It makes sense when you realize Featherine is not just a Witch, but a Creator as well. She may just be a Witch in name only.

Ambiguously Evil: Both Bern and Lambda describe her as extremely nasty, and indeed she doesn't think much of humans, but she doesn't really have any Kick the Dog moments, and in the end she gives up on publicly revealing the contents of Eva's diary, thus preserving the catbox as Battler and Beato wished.

Curb-Stomp Battle: Delivers one to Lambdadelta in Episode 8. Special mention to the fact that Featherine didn't even have fight at all; she simply wrote down "I utterly defeated Lambdadelta and sliced her into pieces". And then poof, Lambda is completely dismembered.

The Dreaded: Anyone that can inspire genuine fear from Lambdadelta and even Bernkastel is definitely not to be trifled with.

Evil Mentor: Implied to have been Bernkastel's in the ???? of EP6.

The Fog of Ages: She has lived for so long that she needs a special horseshoe-shaped device around her head to keep her memories and avoid insanity.

God Is Evil: Averted, though just barely. She's not so much evil as she is uncaring of how she achieves her goals... though given the things she does do in the story (and apparently before it), you'd be forgiven for thinking it was played straight.

Greater-Scope Villain: Featherine is said to be a Witch thousands of times more powerful and evil than Bernkastel could ever be, but she never becomes a direct villain to the story and remains a bystander for the most part. However, she is indirectly responsible for all the problems from EP7 afterwards as she was the one who gave Bernkastel the power to keep messing with the game board because she wanted Bernkastel to rip the game apart for her and give her the answers to the mystery.

Insult Backfire: When Lambda pulls a You Monster! on her, she takes it as a compliment, which really makes you wonder what amount of chaos she caused in her distant past. It's fully possible that, being Bernkastel's mentor, she possess a trolling capacity far surpassing her miko Bern's... and considering Bern is the most malicious character in the story, that is a scary thought.

It Amused Me: The main reason she doesn't fit into God Is Evil instead. Physical Godliness and lack of a Freudian Excuse notwithstanding, she's still a Witch at heart and will do whatever it takes to keep herself entertained.

Lack of Empathy: Definitely, but better off than Bernkastel at least. Like any other Witch, Featherine sees human lives as nothing but means of entertainment, but she can show her respect to her opponents when it's due and at least now, doesn't seek to actively make others miserable for amusement's sake.

Manipulative Bitch: In the past, she's used Bernkastel as her monkey wrench to unlock the mysteries of worlds and game boards alike, whether Bern wanted to do it or not. Worse yet, Bern was aware she was being used but couldn't do anything about it because Featherine was just that good. This does in fact happen in the story, where she makes Bern the Game Master to crack the mystery of Rokkenjima when the rest of the cast loses interest in it, using Bern's desire for revenge against the family as her motivation.

Offstage Villainy: Bernkastel, the cruelest example of a witch so far seen, finds her a hundred times more horrific than she could ever be. The evidence is suggested at, but never concretely shown. Within the series, Featherine never does anything nearly as horrible as the other witches. Of course, Bernkastel is no doubt very biased, seeing as how she came into existence because of Featherine's callousness and indifference. She probably has room to exaggerate.

The Older Immortal: By far the oldest witch in the series.

The Omnipotent: Without a doubt, the most powerful character in the setting. She's perfectly capable of pausing the plot when she wants a scene to play out a different way.

Outside-Context Problem: Needless to say Featherine is in a whole other league compared to the other witches Battler deals with in the story, which is really saying something. A single wave of her hand to make Bernkastel the Game Master is all she needed to do turn Battler's happy ending into a non-ending.

Physical God: One of the Creators described in Episode 4's TIPS.

The definitive example is that she's ultimately the one responsible for bringing Bernkastel as we know herinto existence. It's heavily implied that she was the one who abandoned Bern as a piece in the Unwinnable game (that she ended up winning anyway), and while it's never explained how she pieced together/recruited all the physically and emotionally destroyed Rika Furudes, it's made clear in the narration that Featherine was the one who taught what would eventually become her miko and the Cruelest Witch. And why? Because she was bored and wanted someone to help stave off future boredom.It's not so much that she meant harm by creating Bern, more that she doesn't care as long as she is entertained.

If you want a more "literal" example, she can use her power to rewrite the script of reality itself and have people do as she dictates. And you would never even know she's doing it.

Really 700 Years Old: She is said to be older than Bernkastel and Lambdadelta, both who are said to be centuries old. By the way it's alluded, Featherine might as well be a Time Abyss.

Retired Monster: Given what Bernkastel and Lambadelta say about (and to) her, this is heavily implied. Featherine herself personally thinks she's much worse.

Rewriting Reality: Her power as a Witch/Creator and as an Author Avatar. Featherine can literally rewrite the script of reality itself to make events go as however she likes. She doesn't even need to write how things go, she only needs to write the result.

Story-Breaker Power:

Literally. When Lambdadelta tries to attack her with magic, Featherine just says that she doesn't like the development of the story, stops time and begins editing the script of the story herself. Not willing to write a fight scene at the moment, she starts from the end of the fight where she dictates Lambdadelta was smashed into a bookshelf and had all her limbs severed. She doesn't even think about how she accomplished such a brutal attack, deciding to "figure it out later". When Featherine starts time again, Lambdadelta ends up just as she wrote, with "what the fuck just happened" being her last conscious thoughts before dying.

She couldn't comprehend the 'something' that Featherine had killed her with. However, that was only natural. After all, Featherine herself hadn't decided what the 'something' was. However, Lambdadelta did understand one thing. She was already dead.

You Cannot Grasp the True Form: The memory device around her head also preserves her form. At one point in the past it got damaged, abruptly changing her personality and appearance. Her witch power also allows her to weaponize this. Refer to the spoiler in Story-Breaker Power above.

[dotshiiki]

I read it.

Cut because spoilers, of course.

Okay, it’s kind of hard to sum this book up because, ouch, it’s a real knife in the gut. And I guess I should thank all you guys who read it first (or knew things about it) for not dropping any spoilers at all because ... the thing I thought was a spoiler? Totally wasn’t.

I guess I’ll start with one point I noted somewhere towards the end, which was that the series plot is really heating up now (literally, lol, burning maze heh). And it sort of mirrors what I felt about TC in the initial PJO series. The first two books were lighthearted fun, and then things started to get real in book 3. People died. Characters got deeper. Here we see Meg changing and showing a ruthless side when her ‘roots’ are threatened—and coming into a power she’s not sure she deserves or can control. We see Apollo shocked into really understanding what humanity means. (And I agree that the character death was necessitated to spur that revelatory moment. So from a plot perspective I can accept its necessity. From a I-love-these-characters perspective, I’m gutted that we had to trade Jason for Apollo. Because, you know, four thousand year old god. How’s that fair? But more on my feelings about this later.) We even see ruptures and upheaval in Jason and Piper’s relationship, and Piper on a likely traumatic journey through all of it. The kid gloves are off—We’re not in your average ‘fun adventure’ territory any more and I will admit I was wrong ... RR DID go dark with this one. (To Melpomene indeed.) It will be interesting to see how he moves on after this.

I found the tone shift interesting. It’s really hard to pull off angst with a first-person narrator like Apollo, whose every second sentence is a humorous aside. And I did find that transition tough to swallow. The jokes and comedic references were jarring in the last few chapters, and it makes me wonder if the main character is really capable of matching the overall plot set-up. But ... I guess we’ll see with the next book. (The Tyrant’s Tomb, hmmmm.)

Speaking of the next book, it’s also interesting that we didn’t get the full sonnet prophecy unravelled after all. And yeah I totally messed up predicting that they’d get to Camp Jupiter and then get into the Labyrinth. We didn’t even see anything on that—the whole bad news stuff happened entirely offscreen! (And did we even get a resolution on what that was, or just a cliffy? Surprise surprise, Mr Supreme Lord of the Cliffhangers strikes. You guys think I’m evil with my weekly cliffhangers? We’re waiting a year with all of his!) The only things I managed to guess were Caligula and Incitatus.

So on the character deaths. Wrong about that too: I did not see it coming. I started out this book deathly afraid for Grover. Because at the end of Ship of the Dead, with Percy and Annabeth crying when Magnus contacted them, I was sure they’d suffered a great loss. And since Grover had been summoned at the end of TDP, that seemed to be the logical answer.

So every ‘spoiler’ I came across that hinted at RR actually killing off a character, or alluding to whatever I feared—well, I thought it’d be Grover. I really didn’t even expect Jason and Piper to be a big part of this book, but once that prophecy about one of them popped up, I kind of figured this might be Grover’s get-out-of-Erebus-free card.

Am I relieved Grover didn’t die? Tremendously! (Do NOT mess with the sacred trio, man!) Am I thankful it was Jason instead? Sadly ... yes. I’m sorry. I do love Grover more than Jason, and that’s just that.

Jason still strikes me as this too-perfect character (the kind we’d have called a Gary-Stu in the old days). Always doing the right thing, his ‘flaws’ coming across as not really that deep. (And go ahead and change my mind on this, I’m open to changing my perspective.) I didn’t have a real connection to him, possibly because first impressions—well, he knew nothing about himself ergo the reader knows nothing too. But one thing that IS evident about him: he’s a good friend. He’s still a good guy. And thus the impact his death has—it is tremendous.

So yeah, I’m still gutted that Jason kicked it. And his death scene was pretty darn powerful. Also, the fact that he died broken up with his girlfriend whom he obviously still loved—okay that’s the stuff broken hearts are made of, you know? We got to see all these reactions as well, and more are definitely coming. Remind me to prepare stacks of hankies for next year’s book release. When I think ‘Jason’s dead,’ I just get this sense of ‘huh. Okay.’ (As opposed to the jitters I had all week anticipating this book and thinking we’d lose Grover.) But then I think about Annabeth and Percy getting the news. Of Thalia hearing about it. I got Leo popping in at the end, oh gods. And Reyna, who is certain to be in the next book and probably the third quest member. And I think of all of them dealing with the loss of a good friend and my heart crumbles into teensy tiny pieces. Guys, I do not know how I’m going to drag myself into work tomorrow and attempt to tackle editing my papers because of this devastation.

I’m feeling a bit guilty as well because besides feeling relieved that he died not Grover, it’s almost like as a reader I was all, naaaah don’t like Jason. And then RR goes, I see. All right, he’s expendable, let’s kill him! Do you love him now, huh? It’s almost like the Dobby thing. Everyone probably called him annoying at some point, but you wanna tell me you didn’t shed a tear after Malfoy Manor?

And one last thing that strikes fear into my heart. I am no longer confident that RR will keep the body count down. I mean, he did the Big One—killing off a main character. That’s like a turning point. Like when Sirius died in OotP, you know the books will never be the same. Before I was so excited every time one of the old crew turned up. Now ... I don’t want to see them any more because WHAT IF THEY DIE? Pleeeeeease do not kill Reyna in the next book, for instance. And I am uncomfortably aware that Greek mythology Ends In Tragedy, even though none of the book series have yet ... the idea that this could all end in Everybody Dies frightens me so bad. I’m not sure I’d stay in PJO fandom if there was no more Percy and Annabeth. (And I guess I need to hurry up writing my fic then because I was actually afraid I’d lose motivation if Grover kicked the bucket. I feel like I’ve got a stay of execution here, but next year ... the year after that ... *shivers*)

Okay. Now I need to go and write a ton of angst because thank you, Melpomene, I hope you’re happy.

[justin-chapmanswers]

how exactly do you write the show? what techniques do you use to write certain scenes?

Storytelling a character-work matters to me above anything else. As a result, I’m always taking notes on ideas. In my spare time, with another writer, there is constantly action. I wouldn’t spend so much time on a project that didn’t engage me in critical thought and analysis in and of itself.

Everything is 100% of the time thoroughly outlined. The remainder of the series is loosely outlined, and we know where we want each and every character to end up. Granted, some more specifically than others, but we are constantly working out the fine details. I feel that in storytelling you need to be able to maintain a balance at all times of having a close-to-vivid picture of the end-goal while leaving that mental wiggle-room to readjust ideas as new ones come up. If you lock yourself down entirely, you block off the better potential routes. If you don’t know the end goal, you’re bound to meander and not build up to something meaningful unless you get lucky. If you put all of your time into something, you CANNOT leave it to chance.

I love to live in the broader conceptual zone. Theming. Thinking through the purpose of characters and the world they live in. How do pieces connect? What matters? How would the actions of the characters reflect on the viewer and the world of the show? Why X? Why Z? Nothing makes sense, life is an illusion, how do characters make sense of that?

But also I am fascinated by character. I love to dig into a characters’ moral code and force them to question. I need to find purpose in every little quirk, whether in origin or in result over time. What pairs make sparks? How do different characters change one another? Who has a story to tell, and in the case of II, when is the best time to tell it? How does that story affect everyone else, does it create a new story? Repeat. 

There is so much to say here in regards to episode 12 alone. But, sticking to released episodes, my go-to scene is Suitcase and Knife at the dock, which you better bet started way longer. We take everything that Knife and Suitcase have been through come this point, contrast it with their brief conversation in S2E7, and force a character to question the moral values while shedding light on another. It helps helps that I think they are perfectly-suited to bounce well off of each other. And that I’m a sucker for quiet, contemplative scenes. A dynamic is constructed, we re-establish our characters’ purposes (especially in the eyes of one-another), and it leads to an intense decision- one that triggers strong effects down the line. Repeat.

To start moving into your question more specifically, like I noted earlier we have a ton of concepts going forward, and as one episode nears its end we really dig into the next one and make sure everything is set and understood (I hecking love episode 13). Before Brian and I jump into more thorough outlining, we need to have every general idea sorted out, which if I had to choose one step of the process, I’d call my strong-suit (despite loving every little detail that goes into -pre-production). We need to review:

-What is each characters’ arc (important or not) in the episode, and what events accomplish it? Who needs more focus than others? Who can sit out?

-Who is getting eliminated, and how (which is well-sorted out for the series already, but with wiggle-room)? 

-What do we need the characters to be able to do, physically, in the episode- and what are three challenges that can allow that to happen most-properly? 

-What themes and messages matter most to us in the episode? 

-What are key moments and visuals that we would like to highlight?

-What scenes NEED to happen in order to complete each arc? What scenes would we LIKE to have to strengthen those arcs and the episode?

-How does the world of the show play into the episode? What can we explore? What hints can we leave?

Then we’re onto outlining. This takes all the concepts that we initially had and breaks it down into a general beat-sheet, talking about every single important point we need to hit on, in order, for the episode to be complete- in a lot more detail. This is used as a pitch to show off the workability of the concept and how it, and likely will, play out in structure. Granted, more-so in episode 12 than in episode 11, the story that we pitch through the outline can go through many readjustments between that point and script-completion. That’s a mix between reworking concepts based on Adam and Taylor’s pitch-input and then the natural progression of the four of us (and often plus Ben) coming up with strong concepts over the scripting process that take some details in different directions.

Once we are settled on that story, scripting is on the way! By this point in pre-production I am incredibly comfortable with the characters’ mindsets and feel pretty free to go about writing out what’s in their heads. We work within the general guidelines presented by the outline, and complete scenes often as individual pieces- knowing already how they fit in and need to flow. There is so much to talk about just in terms of writing strategies, I might make separate posts about more specific types of scenes going forward. A lot of it comes down to balancing the puzzle pieces that are constantly juggled throughout my mind and the comedy that comes from the characters and their situation. It’s important to know what is necessary and when, and obviously there’s no one-way about it, but it’s a skill you can certainly build up with enough practice. A tone can sell an emotion, and emotion can sell a beat, a beat can sell an arc, and arcs are everything. Nothing is meaningless, even things about meaningless. If a story is told and a writer is purposefully avoiding making or alluding to a statement, it’s a wasted opportunity… so I see it.

A great deal of writing is rewriting. That’s a good sign. A first draft CAN be the best draft, but chances are it isn’t. Even when I have a good plan for a scene, I’ll keep the major beats at the back of mind and just let characters talk. I’ll see if they naturally hit on the beats I need them to hit on. If it goes on for long enough without meaning, the convo is scrapped, but good ideas from the scene can be retained for the next try. Retry and redirect it. A scene cannot be written so procedurally that it ruins any natural characterization that a character deserves. Again, it’s that dang balance back at-it. In writing it can be tough in the moment to entirely scrap a scene that you just worked hard on, but trust me- when you muster the strength to let go, you won’t miss it. You can always do even better.

Find a piece of yourself in every character you write. If you have trouble with writing a character, there’s a decent chance that it is because you’re connecting to them. Find qualities in the character that you can understand and empathize with, or relate it to something you’re familiar with in your day-to-day life, and focus in on that. Any character could be a good character if you use them properly and focus on what’s drawing about them.

If a scene accomplishes nothing, it shouldn’t be there. Every scene must establish a motivation, progress the action, or explain something in some manner. Understand what’s necessary, and feed into what makes a scene good.

Write what you like. Thinking about what the audience will get out of things is good when conceptualizing, but your vision should never rely on that. If you find something interesting or funny, others will too. Write what you would enjoy seeing. Occasionally when I come up with something I’ll think “this is amazing, people are gonna hate it” and go with it anyway. This goes more-so for the pre-writing stages, such as deciding character-focus degrees or eliminations, for instance, but it is still important in any step of the process.

When working with a team on a script, chances are there will be arguments. No good ways around that. That-said, embrace discussions and arguments! Every argued idea and concept deserves attention. If you are spending a lot of time on a project and are not willing to dig into what works and what doesn’t thematically, character-wise, or within the rules of the world- there is something wrong there. Be passionate about what you’re writing. Don’t shut down input until it is thoroughly discussed. Fighting does not mean something is wrong. (Although, fighting to the death is a problem).

A lot of the editing in II writing is shortening. We have a budget, we want episodes to come out as quick as possible, there’s no room to meander. Even scenes that we had deemed “perfect” at a point may still have a flaw of being too long for our own good. Although it seemed like a major limit back in the day, it quite honestly is important to learn how and when to keep writing concise. Bring everything down to the essentials. Brevity will allow your work to flow better and come across as neater. An annoyingly tedious two hour movie might be an hour long masterpiece wearing a scary costume. As someone who definitely writes extremely long on every first-go, having more than one pass to check for conciseness is wonderful.

I hope the overview of this process at least shed a little light. There are so many more details to go into, and I’ll gladly dive into them per request. Writing and constructing story for this show is what keeps me going, so I’m glad it has intrigued many of you, as well. :)

[legmanns-moved]

Lime Cookie is canonically gay- an essay

To start, someone must’ve misinterpreted/misread a certain rant I had a while back about the Cookie Run fandom headcanoning literally every character as gay and trans, because recently I’ve been getting DM’s asking for proof that Lemon Cookie is canonically gay. Unfortunately, I did not say such, as there is barely any evidence to support that claim, but I instead said that Lime Cookie is.

After I explained this mixup, one user was actually interested in why I argue that Lime is canonically a lesbian, so here’s a cleaner version of my rambly rant and evidence. Please keep in mind that I’m not an expert whatsoever on the game, as I’ve only been in the fandom for a little under a year, as I got the Line edition of the game in mid-April 2017.

So! To start, we have to establish the relationship between Orange and Lime. “But Amina, why are you doing that?” I know a lot of the people in the fandom are like my friends, and gather conclusions as to what is and isn’t true based off fanworks, and seeing as Line, the version where Lime is, is closing soon, and a decent amount of people have just moved to Ovenbreak for convenience reasons, this is indeed necessary.

We could just have this be quick and simple by saying it’s obvious that the two know each other, because they’re right next to each other in the cookie index and they’re both citrus fruit, but I don’t like it when things are that easy.

To start the long list of proof of their relation, if you read Lime’s character description, it states that she’s pretty cold and distant toward the other cookies, but is only really close with one, and that she has learned her SMASH! ability (in which she spikes a Lime-themed volleyball in front of her, destroying obstacles and earning points) from this other Cookie. Who could this mystery Cookie be? Simple. How many other cookies are there with a SMASH! ability? One. Orange Cookie(except instead of having lime volleyballs, Orange has orange-themed tennis balls). Our next step is proving that Orange does indeed know Lime as well, so the relation is mutual. Orange’s character description doesn’t really go into detail on her backstory as much as Lime’s (you have to go to Lemon’s and Lime’s to get bits and pieces of it). We get from these that Orange is a very upbeat, positive, and friendly person who cares deeply for others, but more importantly, that “Her smashes are getting stronger every time.. perhaps it is because of her childhood friend?..”

But wait. This presents a problem. There’s another citrus fruit cookie that mentions getting help from a ‘childhood friend’, that also happens to be to the left of Orange Cookie on the character index, and that is Lemon Cookie. 

Just as an overview of Lemon, his character description goes into detail on him formerly being unable to control his electric powers, (that came as a result of his being made from an electrically-charged lemon), and having his rubix cube that contains all his extra energy. “ Lemon Cookie's childhood friend found this cube quite intriguing. Thanks to the friend, Lemon Cookie learned various ways to solve the cube and even has some of his own tricks up his sleeve. When Lemon Cookie was unable to control its power it became a danger to other cookies. This childhood friend may have been the only one Lemon Cookie could talk to.”  Not only does his description also match Orange’s with the specific use of the term ‘childhood friend’, but as further proof that the friend alluded to in Lemon’s description is Orange, the friend’s kind and supportive nature matches what we know of Orange’s personality.

Luckily for us, there is still concrete proof that the childhood friend referred to in Orange’s bio is still indeed Lime, despite Lemons’ also having alluded to Orange. Orange Cookie’s character description specifically mentions her practicing her SMASH! ability with a childhood friend. Lemon Cookie does not have a SMASH! ability, but rather an electric shield, which you can check out here. Not only that, but in Mini Orange Mouse’s character description, it’s mentioned that “it was thanks to this pet that Orange Cookie made friends with a cookie tucked away all alone behind some bushes.”. Seeing as Lemon was never mentioned as having as many issues branching out and getting along with others (besides that time his electric powers got out of control, because in that instance, in his description it states that his “childhood friend may have been the only one Lemon Cookie could talk to”), we can deduce that this is indeed about Lime, who is mentioned to only have “a single Cookie that she has a weak spot for.”, while acting cold toward everyone else.

So we’ve now established that Orange and Lime have a close relationship, have known each other since childhood, have similar interests and they are significant enough in each other’s lives to each be mentioned in the other’s description. I’ve argued enough here to at least confirm their being best friends, minimum. While I was writing this, my friend brought up a good point about Lemon and Orange being confirmed as also having a relationship, and how acknowledging the context of their relationship could further help imply the type of relationship Lime Cookie has with Orange Cookie.

Orange and Lemon have also known each other since childhood, as from the information we have been given in Lemon’s description, and Orange’s nature, Orange was his source of support at a time when he couldn’t fully control his powers and was perceived as a danger to others. In Lime’s description we are also told that “Sometimes, her jealousy causes uncomfortable situations”. This could create some tension in their relationship due to their differences in ability to socialize. Lime is a clear introvert that doesn’t particularly like opening up to new people, that makes one good friend or so, then just becomes attached to them(I relate to this on an unreal level). On another hand, Orange Cookie is a clear extrovert that likes to get along with everyone, and tries to build as many positive relationships with others as possible. This aspect of her personality would further affect Lime’s jealous nature, as she’d be terrified of the one true person she has a close bond with leaving her. The trope of jealousy is used relatively often in fictional romantic couples, with a one member being jealous of friends of the other’s, and worrying that something is going on between them. So Lemon Cookie would be seen as a threat to Lime’s having a secure relationship with Orange.

Seeing as Cookie Run’s target audience is not us westerners on Tumblr, but rather younger children (you can tell by the simplistic designs with bright colors, and the repetitive uncomplex gameplay), having characters explicitly stated as gay/bi/poly/pan could be controversial, cause boycotts, and in turn, hurt DEVSISTERS’ sales. As for why they might be reluctant on including this aspect, but openly have nonbinary characters (Angel, Devil, Cinnamon, Snow Sugar, Dark Choco, etc.), is something I honestly cannot answer with certainty. You could attribute it to the fact that binary gender is a social construct brought from the west elsewhere by colonizers and missionaries, and thus the concept of nonbinary people being not as obscure as it is here in the west.

Another good point that has been brought up (both by my friend and the user that motivated me to type this whole thing out) is the fact that in South Korea, the place where the Cookie Run franchise comes from, is a largely Christian conservative country, with nearly 60% of the country not believing that homosexuality should be accepted in society, in a 2013 poll by Pew Research. Although there have never been laws explicitly banning same-sex relationships, marriage equality is still nearly unheard of in South Korea, and LGBT+ people are not allowed to serve in military or adopt.

I don’t know if this is worth mentioning, but if I still have not convinced you, mysterious reader who has inexplicably stuck with me this far, but let’s look past the character descriptions, because if you really like reading up on lore and stuff, there are two key treasures from the Line game that can also further prove my point: the Orange-Lime Smoothie, and its eventual evolved state, the Super Fruity Orange-Lime Smoothie.

I got the former back in September 2017 and still have yet to use it, as I have yet to have unlocked anyone in the Citrus Trio (Lemon, Orange, and Lime) and it wouldn't be useful for me, as the item, without any upgrades, only slightly slows energy drain and gives bonus points for Citrus Jellies. The first reason why these are a useful source to promote my cause, is the name, that part’s obvious. It specifically mentions Orange and Lime, and nobody else. The more important piece of evidence we can derive from these items, is that in the description for the initial item (Orange-Lime Smoothie), the description specifically states “Orange and lime infused into one!”. The terminology of having two individuals “fused into one”, where I’m from at least, usually refers to people being married or in a serious relationship.

So yeah, Lime’s gay.  If anyone wants more of these, please reblog, follow, like and stuff to show your support, and message me or whatever on who and what you’d like to see next. I can’t promise that I’ll get to all of them, or be very active on this account, but I had fun doing this and would love to do more in this fandom!

-    -

tl;dr- It’s safe to argue that Lime Cookie is canonically a lesbian and in a relationship with her loving and supportive girlfriend Orange Cookie who she unfortunately fears will leave her for someone “better”, due to proof given by both their and other characters’ character descriptions mentioning their history and close bond with one another, and in-game items such as the Orange-Lime Smoothie. My friend @koalapunsareunbearable was a major role in my being able to type all this out and format it, and playing devil’s advocate when I tried to take the easy way out on some claims, and for that I am grateful. Have a nice night.

[notoriousjae]

72 Rules of Cat Grant  || Supercat || (4/?)

Title: 72 Rules of Cat Grant

Pairing: Kara Danvers/Cat Grant

Rating: M

Chapter Description:

"You're right. I am hiding a pretty big part of myself."

--

Note: I am so behind posting these on here, sorry. 

Chapter 1: AO3 Link | FF.Net Link | Tumblr

Chapter 2: A03 Link | FF.net Link | Tumblr

Chapter 3: AO3 Link | FF.Net | Tumblr

Chapter 4 (Current): AO3 | FF.Net | Below:

Rule #41. Trust. Your. Instincts.

It’s afternoon on a Friday, the familiar white noise of CatCo’s scrambling, ever busy journalists and crew working to wrap up deadlines and loose ends before the week’s end. Regardless of their effort, half of the staff will likely filter in on a Saturday, something unresolved needing to become the resolvable before Cat Grant sees their employment to an end, but for now there’s still hope bustling the halls. Hope that everything can be wrapped up with a hint of excitement on chattering tongues for various plans and activities.

Kara happily multi-tasks, listening to Brad and Violet from downstairs argue about the semantics of water cooler talk like something out of a Seinfeld skit (Is it water cooler talk if we're not by a water cooler? Is the water bottle the modern-day water cooler? When did water coolers become obsolete? What would you do if you didn't want cold water, anyways? I happen to like my water tepid, Vi! How about that?) over finishing their reports for the design board as she nips at a muffin, crossing out a wayward word on the barely-edited document in her lap. She’s found a sense of familiarity on a couch that she’s cleaned in the dark hours of the morning more than once, settling into it in companionable silence as her boss pushes around a salad, a battlefield of greens that have been picked solely of their meat, the rest of the salad’s fate unclear.

It's easy to become engrossed in the article she’s reading when practically ever sentence needs review, sighing as impatient fingers cross out yet another thing that needs to be fact-checked, when she catches the sight of Cat out of the corner of her eye. It’s been nearly five months and the faintest red creeps up a neck at the sight of that unfaltering gaze, fingers hesitantly moving up to shift glasses on her nose.

When Cat continues to stare, Kara turns around to look in the nearby glass surrounding them, pretty sure she must have a piece of muffin up her nose, or something. “Do I--”

“You really never had any ulterior motives did you, Kara? There isn’t a single intentionally cruel bone in your body.” There’s a hint of calm reverie in Cat’s voice--something that’s unusual in such broad daylight and only makes Kara shift more, lips parting to question before her boss continues on: “Never took any opportunity to lower someone else in order to raise yourself higher. Never had a secret agenda in your back pocket.”

“I...what?” Brows knit. Normally she's used to dealing with things out of right field (or was it left? She still really doesn't care about baseball) but this is a little different.

“Climbing the ladder.” 'The corporate game of Life' as Cat usually calls it, humming, piercing another piece of greenery, but this time actually eating it. The faith doesn’t sit right on Kara’s chest. It's like a heavy weight because out of everyone in her life, Cat is the only one she's tossed off of a balcony and should really know better.

“I...did, once.” Kara vaguely alludes, a hint of hurt clouding the back of her throat like smog from a fire. “I felt…” A wave of her hand, explaining before Cat could even hope to think it might revolve around her, because that’s where an assistant’s priorities lay, these days, spilled chess pieces on the black and white board of a game she never learned how to play, “With...Siobahn. It was horrible. I can assure you, Ms. Grant, that person…” Her voice trails off, fingers clenching in the fabric about her knees before she straightens, tone even regardless of the quiet nature of it, article shifting in her lap, “That person is in me somewhere. But I learned from you that if you have to push someone down to get to their level, you’re never at the level you should be.”

Cat hums, thoughtful, still searching her face across the small distance, like Kara’s small speech hasn’t deterred the track of her mind in the least.

“Always rise higher than the people you surround yourself with. Well of course you were forward with Siobahn.” It’s said like nothing can get past her--like fingers are snapping, insistent, before Kara’s eyes--but Cat just leans back in her chair, “Come.” Ever obedient, she does, trying not to associate that command with late nights and early mornings and something in-betweens, slowly moving over to the seat in front of a long desk like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. On her head. “I meant with me. Snapper. The board leaders but most importantly I was mostly talking about your intelligent, stunning CEO. You only ever sought to help me, didn’t you.” It’s more a statement than a question and suddenly Kara has no idea what to do with this.

“I--well I,” A throat clears, fingers raising up to tilt and stabilize glasses, Cat reaching across to halt the motion when she’s curled fingers about the rim. “Of...course I did, Cat. That’s my job.” A moment passes between them, a slow breath unwinding the tense coil of her shoulders, allowing the slimmest smile to spread, “Besides, helping’s...kind of my thing. Not…”

“Not just for me.” Something goes unsaid between them but Cat’s hand doesn’t fall from her wrist. “I know you did. Well, I’ve always known you did--just wanted to help. Noble, really. Heroic.” The word ends in a sharp k that lingers on the edges of white teeth in a way a hero might find endless purchase in. “That’s something I’ve just...come to accept. Maybe take for granted. Your...good nature.”

Kara shifts, again, and isn’t sure why her chest feels so tight--like there isn’t enough room to breathe with quite so many layers of clothing on.  

“I...appreciate the recognition?” A hint of a laugh, pulling her hand free in favor of bringing arms in tighter to sides, fingers lacing in a lap, warmer than an article but still cooler than they’re used to being, these days. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m just not...I’m not sure what your point is, Ms. Grant.”

“In a rare turn of events, Kara.” Cat murmurs, gaze intense but something familiar and dangerous behind them--something that Kara wants to rest a shaking hand against and find familiarity in, “I don’t have one. Save for the long overdue idea of thanking you for being such an ever-faithful companion, the past two years or so.”

“Oh.” It’s a breath and despite herself--despite the look in Cat’s eyes and the fact that her employer always has a point, even when she’s not making one--her smile spreads, something like anxious optimism lifting her shoulders. The sight of the relief seems to only pull Cat closer, patting a knee as she rounds the desk. “Thank you, Cat.”

“You don’t need to thank someone for thanking you, Kara.” Cat moves towards the window, grabbing her glass as she goes. Water, today. "It's overkill."

“I think I do, in...this case.” Kara slowly comes behind her, shoulders imperceptibly straightening, listening to the way breath hitches--watching the way the reflection catches downturned eyes like a child playing in rain that’s starting to clear. There’s a hint of bittersweet revelry in it that prompts the forced lightness in her voice, and Kara’s hands raise just like that child, aching to catch it, fingers gently smoothing along shoulders like they aren’t in a vault of glass. Just for a moment before they drop. “Wait, you’re not firing me, right? Because that would be the,” A laugh, “Opposite of--” A sinking feeling of dread. “...you’re not firing me, right?”

“Oh, Kara.” Cat laughs, turning around, catching her hands as she does, raising eyebrows. “No. Not unless you’ve done something stupid to give me reason to, is there?”

“Not me. I’m absolutely innocent.” Her hands raise in defense, though her smile spreads at the sound of that familiar, faint laugh. “If you were firing me, I’d hope you would do it before I bought you lunch b--”

“Stop worrying about your job.” Tone drawling in a way that Kara can only hope is a tease: “For today, anyways. I just arrived at a decision, is all.”

“Right.” Kara laughs, a hint of nerves curling around the rumbling noise, “And I’m...never going to learn what decision that is. Okay, then. Well...then, thank you, Ms. Grant.” She straightens herself a little, moving back over to the discarded article, “It’s...nice to hear that I’m doing well.”

“Isn’t it?” Cat mysteriously hums, walking out of the desk before Kara can do anything but sink back down into a couch with a muffin and an article, trying not to cross the whole thing out.

It’s a wayward siren that pulls her from the couch, a kidnapper stopped and a girl returned safely home, and when she comes back to her desk she’s humming with something that should be excitement.

Until Cat starts shoving the few belongings she’s allowed to have on her desk (A CatCo rule, not a Cat Grant specific one) into a banker’s box, Kara stumbling in heels after her, pleading her case towards (for? against? between?) whatever it is she’s done this time, breathless for a woman that doesn’t need all that much air.

“B-But--I thought you said no about the fir…” They’re suddenly in an office, Cat dropping the box on a desk. “...ing?”

“I’m not firing you.” Cat says simply, hip cocked like the ever-ready gun that it is, eyebrows raised. Kara sees her drop something into the box, catching the afternoon rays of sun from closed blinds--and all she can do is blink. "I'm promoting you."

"Promoting...?"

A speech follows, something Cat Grant is good at and Kara Danvers never gets tired of hearing, and the younger girl slowly sinks onto wood, swallowing the rough sandpaper of her throat once it settles on her shoulders.

The end of working girl makes her cry, and so does every other movie where she gains something, but feels like she’s losing a little bit of something, too. The distance is crossed and Kara’s breath quivers--quakes--looking around a wide cavern of...white. Suddenly she feels like there's too much of it.

“I think it's time I told you something I don't think you understand." A nod, like Cat Grant is unveiling the mysteries of the universe to her protege lover. "I didn’t hire you because you were average, Kara.” Cat's searching the landscape of her face like oceans hide buried treasure in their depths. “I hired you because you pretended to be.”

“What?” A faint hint of a confused breath--an almost disbelieving, laughing noise--brows knitting.  

“Sure, you gave me this whole...weird, entirely unnecessary speech about being ordinary when you came into my office and I didn’t believe you for a second. I found it fascinating. Honestly ,” A hand waves in gesture, “I told myself I hired you on a whim, but I’ve founded an empire on one steadfast rule: ‘Trust. Your. Instincts.’ And I knew there was something special about you. I felt it. I was right.” A thoughtful hum: “Otherwise, you never would have lasted here after that first day. It wasn’t a whim.”

Outrageously, Kara notes on the cusp of a promotion--maybe the muffin from earlier wasn’t enough and she wants to taste her own feet, too:

“I...you’ve told me practically every day I’ve been here that I’m replaceable. Well, save for today.”

Cat’s eyes flick up, arms crossing. “Your job is replaceable.”

“My job.” Kara quietly catches on--dangerous and bold--notes. “Not me.”

Cat doesn’t answer--doesn’t encourage or refute--and that’s enough of an answer for a very surprised, pleased Kara, unable to help the almost giddy feeling in her chest.

“Don’t look so happy with yourself.” Cat seems to notice but she doesn’t sound nearly as annoyed as she might any other day. “Or do. You are being promoted. Of course you’re not replaceable. Why else would I hire you?” There’s a pause, Cat’s hand stilling, a hint of humor finding its way into her tone, “So you did decide to go with looking pleased with yourself. If I knew you were going to smile like Macaulay Culkin at his premier for that God-awful Party Boys all night I could have waited until Monday.”

“I don't think you mind that much.” Kara dutifully tries to bite her smile with a white row of teeth, but it doesn’t do much to temper it, voice upbeat and intentionally casual as she continues--as she attempts to push further into the waters, leaning over to brush their shoulders, hand coming to curl around a wrist. “I know you're busy, but I--could you stay? For just a minute.”

Eyebrows raise and Cat's smile is something close to soft. The look she gave her when a chuckling voice explained how Carter had tried to bring his entire comic collection with him to his first day of kindergarten, the sun painting lines of light along her cheeks while Kara tried to chase them with her fingertips.

“I just…” Kara beams, wide and quiet and a little breathless, “I’d like to share this moment with you, if that's okay?” A hesitant smile. One that is shared, though it's anything but hesitant as Cat leans into her, Kara's fingers tracing up to a bicep, head falling down to a shoulder as the smile spreads.

Fingers gently brush the hair from fluttering eyelashes. “That's ok with me. I guess the world can wait a couple minutes longer.”

“Everything's changing, isn't it?” It's barely a whisper on sun gently floating dust into the office.

“Change is a natural part of life. The forests grow and shrink, the polar caps melt, Tay-Tay finds another flavor of the month. And thus we grow and change and adapt with--”

“Okay, so not everything's changed.” Kara quips, eyes bright and playful.

“There's better things you can do with those new claws of yours, Dear.” Surely enough, Cat bats right back and Kara laughs despite the faintest red that still creeps up her neck. “You've changed, too. You're not that doe-eyed girl who stumbled into my office.” A sweeping gesture towards the world of possibilities in front of her but nostalgia still tinges Kara's voice. "It's a change for the better."

“I guess I have." And she has. "You know, I still can’t believe that you had me hand-deliver personalized fruit baskets that I’d assembled at 7 pm to every single member of the faculty on my first day.”

Kara can see--barely, even for eyes slitting behind dark frames--the edges of Cat’s lips quirk. “They certainly knew your face by the end of the day.”

“Or morning. I was out until 6 AM.”

Without missing a beat, seemingly nonplussed by the idea:

“That explains why you were there bright and early to give me my coffee. And you knew to be there every day after at the same time.” 

If they were closer--if Cat was Alex, snickering and teasing over a steaming mug of hot cocoa in the early hours of the morning--Kara might shove her shoulder. She might wrinkle her nose or throw a piece of toast her way, intentionally not hitting her mark out of habit (or, if she’s really annoyed at the tease, hitting between the eyes anyways). She might roll her eyes or even laugh in familiarity, but Cat Grant isn’t closer than Alex.

But she's not further, either.

She’s not a room away, the cool air settling between them like morning dew on grass, because if they had been...Kara’s might have crossed the whole world to get here in sonic booms and cascading flurries of paper.

They're somewhere in the middle-- they're somewhere together, now--and Kara shakes her head, settling back against the desk. She feels the moments change and pass and watches Cat--who’s never been anything but settled, anywhere she goes--trickle nails along a desk like rainfall with her free hand. 

"SevenO’-Five A. M.” Kara murmurs.

“Seven O’-Five A.M.” Cat agrees, their eyes meeting, a faint--almost mythical--smile shared between them before the older woman gently leans off the desk, her time likely up for anything but large decisions and corporate takeovers of other mags. “This had nothing to do with us, Kara. The promotion.” It's gentle, a hand quietly moving up to skim along a cheek, earlier speech still hanging in the air between them. “You've earned this.”

"Thank you." Maybe against the point, Kara kisses a palm, gratitude clear in her gaze, but Cat doesn't seem disturbed. “Three days to decide my fate, right?” She repeats the earlier ultimatum.

“After Monday. I'll be counting the hours.” 

That's sure to be literal, knowing Catherine.

Kara, bold and delirious and far too friendly, tugs Cat closer by a wrist, but instead of catching her lips, she just...holds her, nose falling into a neck, a little tighter than she should. A little tighter than she ever has, as Kara. She's something more, in this moment, than a meek assistant--something closer to a strong continued presence than just a lover--the faintest hint of ink and perfume in the back of her throat. A knowing hand cups her shoulder and she hears the faintest kick up of a heartbeat...and smiles.

“I'll see you tomorrow for Carter. Unless I can...convince you to come to game night, tonight?”

Cat scoffs as she pulls away but there's still a smile tucking up warm lips, waving a single hand over her shoulder in gesture as the queen gets back to her castle.

“Don't push your luck!”

Her Working Girl moment. Can it be that simple? Cat would say Carpe Diem.

Kara’s phone is out in an instant, hopping back on a desk--her desk--heel bopping in tune with a silent, happy beat (as it will for the rest of the night) already debating where they'll celebrate as a phone finds its way immediately to her ear. She doesn't wait until Alex greets her before Kara slams open the blinds, beaming, fishing out a necklace from a banker's box to watch it hang from her palm underneath the warm afternoon sun.

“Guess where I am?”

She doesn't need super hearing to guess that when her sister pulls away the phone, a disbelieving obscenity is soon bouncing off of the DEO’s cool walls, somewhere in the cells a Daxamite curiously looking up at the ceiling, wondering what wraith ghouls haunt this planet.

--

Rule #42. Cat Grant Quote #2: “Knowledge is useless if not shared, but dangerous if shared with the wrong people. I know I've stated that you’re only as good as who you publish with, and that's true…

It’s not unusual for Cat to stay behind on a Saturday, but it is unusual, nowadays, for her to have so much passing interest in Carter’s study sessions. Dark eyes have mysteriously appeared every few hours around the corner of a wall and Kara isn't sure if it's to check on Carter or her.

Mainly, she's not sure why Cat is suddenly so interested, at all.

“So...what you’re saying is that my teacher is wrong?”

“Your teacher is definitely wrong. Trust me, I have seen black holes…” Kara pauses, “Documentaries. So many black hole documentaries. I even had a really...really large lecture from Martin Stein at the start of this year.” It really wasn't as much of a lecture as it was a series of very pointed, fascinated questions about planets outside of Earth.

Kara was actually kind of lecturing the professor, really. Until she found out he’d encountered a singularity firsthand just the year before with Barry and, knowing Alex wouldn’t let her live it down if she didn’t find out the details, had tried to listen as intently as she could to a very nice, very erratic, very...scientific Martin Stein.

For three hours.

She listened for about twenty minutes before she gave up, politely nodding and interjecting a fascinated sound every couple of minutes like she's listening to Winn rant about Clone Wars or Eliza about genome structures.

“Martin Stein?” Carter’s head tips in curiosity and Kara waves a hand.

“Big...science guy.”

“Like Bill Nye? That guy on Netflix?” Carter asks, casual, fingers drawing endless circles on notebook paper that should be littered with notes. But Kara can’t blame him. All of her notes, to this day, are lined with sketches to keep jittery hands as busy as a wandering mind. Even her rule books are more sketch than rule.

When did Bill Nye get a Netflix show? Man, her and Alex really need to get their Netflix on. She's finding less and less free time these days between a crest and dark eyes.

“...Kind of. I guess.” She settles on, shrugging. “Anyways, yes. Your teacher’s definitely wrong. There is a possibility that you could traverse a black hole, but she is right about there not being any way to escape an Event Horizon.”

“Because it sucks you in?” Carter’s ears pick up again, now that they’re back on the part of the subject he recognizes, covered last week over donuts and Alex's factual tone on the other end of the phone.

But Alex is a little too busy running tests on the Daxamite and Carter...well, space, at least, Kara knows well.

“Right. It’s pretty scary, but fascinating, too. Like...if you were to cross this line--” She draws a series of circles within each other on the page next to Carter’s doodle, each circle a little darker and smaller than the last before she draws the smallest circle, filling it with black. She draws lines from the edge of the dark circumference out to the final circumference of the largest circle, an odd telescope-like shape on the page. “Imagine this is the singularity and it’s sucking all of the force outside of it into it. That includes light...matter...power...cows. Everything.”

“Like how we talked about.” Carter nods, leaning over the page, elbows barely smearing faint pencil lines. “Because black holes are like giant vacuums in space--”

“Vacuum like...absorbing and pulling everything into it via gravity, not vacuum like--”

“Like the endless, imperfect vacuum of space.” Carter quotes verbatim. Probably because Alex had drilled it into him every time he misused the word. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Right. Good job, Carter.” She squeezes his shoulder, a small, sheepish smile her reward. “So imagine everything is being pulled into this point. The singularity at the center of the black hole. Which means more and more energy is in each of these circles…” It’s overly simplified in a way she’s sure Alex could explain easier, but Carter nods, Kara’s finger tracing along the darkest black line before the hole in front of it. “Well after a certain point, you would need to be able to create so much energy in order to get past this point here, because there’s so much energy going against you, that it would be impossible. Nothing could go that fast.”

“I bet Supergirl could.” Carter’s nose scrunches and Kara can’t help the small smile, a hint of a laugh on her tongue. She catches Cat's eyes once more around the corner, a hint of amusement there, this time watching as she clicks off her phone and crosses arms, watching from the threshold.

“I don’t know, buddy. The fastest thing Earth--” She adjusts her glasses, “--knows of, because maybe someone else out there knows other...things. But we don’t. And we haven’t met them, yet.” A cleared throat, tapping the page, “The fastest thing we know,” She rectifies, “Is light. And Supergirl can go faster than light, sure...but in order to go fast enough to get past this point--the Event Horizon, where there’s no turning back--the force of it might...you know.” Kara tries to think of a nice way to word it, but can’t, “...split her in two?”

“Ouch.”

“Tell me about it.” It’s not exactly a thought she wants to think of. Especially since anyone who goes into the singularity is likely to have the same happen to them. Even the girl of steel. Probably. She doesn’t plan on finding out. Jumping into a black hole is not in her bucket list. “But even Supergirl can’t get past this point, because she might not be able to generate enough force to go against what's pulling her in. Think of it like someone trying to hold a door closed in front of you. If it was me ...I bet you could push me away. But if that was Supergirl? Sorry, Cart.” Her eyes are a little lighter and young eyes meet hers with a cock-eyed grin, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.

“I could generate enough force for you. But not for Supergirl. So Supergirl could get out of the black hole before she got to here, but if she got sucked in past this point…”

“No getting out.”   

“Sooo...if you can’t get out of it...what’d you mean by traverse it?” He hops back in his chair with a hum and a curious look that reminds her far too much of his mother, sometimes, Kara thoughtlessly straightening her shoulders like she’s being interviewed.

“Well, it’s only theoretical, but you…” She leans over and plucks up a small piece pencil, wiggling it in her fingers in a way that makes both Grants roll their eyes, “You know when you have a bottle of water and you spin it, when you stop the bottle, everything inside of it is still spinning?” Carter nods, the demonstration clear. “Well there’s a...theory,” It takes her a few moments to remember the Earth name, writing a few mathematical formulas down on the sheet in Kryptonian before scratching it out feverishly, shaking her head. She can't remember. Karen? That can't be right. “Anyways, there’s a theory that black holes are constantly spinning and, because of this...there’s essentially this ring --a ring singularity--inside of it.”

“But...why?”

“Well...are you sure you want to know?” Kara leans back in her chair, eyebrows rising, “None of this will be on your test.”

“Yeah.” But he’s curious--fascinated--the same way Alex used to be when Kara explained physics in space to her, and Kara can’t help the nostalgia that grips at her chest, leaning forward. She tips the pencil forward, balancing it on its lead.

“Well, when a star collapses, which…”

“Creates a wormhole.” Carter fills in, Kara smiling at him.

“Right. Well, under general relativity, when a spherical, non-rotating body of a critical radius collapses (meaning it's not moving) under its own gravitation--like if this pencil was to collapse down into itself--the theory is that it will collapse to a single point. Because it’s not moving, it doesn’t have any momentum. It has nowhere else to collapse, so it’s going to collapse down to its...tip. This lead.”

“Okay.” Carter nods and Kara tips the pencil, circling it with her thumb.”You mean it'd collapse down in a straight line?”

“Right. But Black holes are rotating, so when they collapse--” She draws an oval with the pencil before setting it back in the center, tapping the top of an eraser. “They collapse and the way the inside sort of...distributes--like that water in the water bottle?--it’s more like a sphere. So inside of a black hole, there would be this sort of...ring. It wouldn't be a single point, it would collapse into a ring. And because of that, the event horizon would be a ring inside the black hole, not a circle.” She goes back to her original drawing, pointing at the straight lines dragging up from the dark mass in the middle out to the outer rings. And then, around the darkest circle, draws an oval around it. “So if someone were to go into a blackhole like this, they might be able to avoid the singularity pulling them in because they’d be outside that pull.” A tipped head, “Kind of. See how the force of pull has two curves around it because its a ring?”

“Woah.” Carter blinks, looking down. “But...what would happen to them? If someone were to...you know. Try to go around the ring instead of going past it?”

“No one knows. I definitely don’t.”

“Well, I guess if you did you wouldn’t be my mom’s assistant.” Carter laughs a little--not a sharp jibe, but an almost familiar quip--and Kara smiles.

“I still might.” After all, she still does. The knowledge--her heritage--might be rusty and buried deep in the back of her mind, but normal, ordinary, regular Kara Danvers can’t see herself anywhere else in the world. Only, now she has to. In five days she will be. “Some people think that, since time is relative and...kind of weird? That if you were to go through this ring, it might shoot you into another dimension. Or another time.”

“Woah.” Carter repeats, looking down at the small little squiggles like they hold the same adventures pages upon pages of books had for her when she was young and Kara leans back in her chair, smiling at it, gently setting down the pencil and wiping smudges of lead from her fingers. “You know,” He starts, almost a little hesitant, bashful, as eyes raise up from the page to greet her. “I don’t know why you always make Alex explain this stuff to me.”

The question makes her chest a little tighter than it should and Kara smiles through it, but she hears Cat shift--reminds herself that Cat is leaning against the opening of the kitchen--hears the way her arms cross as fabric rustles--and knows older eyes can see right through her attempt at a smile. Hopefully, younger eyes can’t.

“Trust me, she’s way better at the science stuff than I am.” She pats his shoulder, “And actually likes it.”

“Well,” Carter shrugs a shoulder underneath a palm like it doesn’t make a difference to him, but blue watches the small gesture not quite raise as much as it would have an hour ago, eyes focused back on his study guide. “Whatever. Don’t worry. I guess you can still teach me math.”

Kara looks towards the doorway, meeting Cat’s eyes, knowing it doesn't quite reach, muscles in her lower back tightening when Cat doesn’t look away--doesn’t stop curiously searching her face for answers like how Carter had searched blank pages of a study guide--and breath quivers from lips when she forces her gaze back down to a blank sheet.

“Thanks, Carter. Come on, let’s go onto the next one.” 

The dishes clink as Kara calmly works a rag around them, drying moisture and suds off of porcelain and nails when she hears Cat lean against the doorway, again. 

Her voice is even--measured--like how it used to be on a balcony when she first drew lines on concrete between Supergirl all while simultaneously getting the hero to stumble over them.

“If I’d known my assistant was suddenly an expert on NASA when I hired her, I’m sure I would have wondered why she was bothering to fetch me glasses of water--I know, a very exciting, engaging task when you get to speak with me at the end of it.” A husking voice tickles a shiver down the ridge of her ear and Kara can't help but lean back into it, listening to the sound of Carter pack upstairs. Lenny Fontaine’s house, tonight. It means Cat will be spending the night in the apartment once Carter's gone. “But not a very good use of her talents.”

“I’m not interested in Space.” In what she’s lost--where she’s from and can never go, again--of all the planet’s she’s visited. She can still taste the cinnamon on her tongue in her dreams just as well as she can imagine who Kal-El would have been mated to, at home. What his wedding would be like. But it feels far more warm to imagine him smiling at Lois, smile creasing the corners of his eyes--it feels more like home than a vacuum she’d floated in for decades.

Although sometimes she traces the stars like maps with her fingers and misses it, it isn’t a hobby. It’s something she’s lost.

It's something she loves, too.

“I mean, I'm interested...but not for a career.” Kara settles on, sincere. Like a lost love. An old flame. A really, really painful breakup. Not that she's had a lot of those, but she's heard things.

Mainly from a mixture of Alex, Disney tv movies, and books.

“You know a lot about it for someone not interested in it.”

“I grew up with a family of scientists, Cat.” There's a hint of laughter, now, because that part is hardly a secret. Continuing to wash and dry, thankful for the company. It's not the first time they've done this routine, either. “My sister dragged me to science conventions...well, okay, she’s still trying to drag me to science conventions. My adoptive mother is a bio-engineer, my adopted father was a brilliant mathematician and scientist. Though I...actually don’t really know what he did,” Kara admits, “And Alex, while also a Bio-Engineer, is a pretty big space buff in general. What I was interested in,” A smile--more genuine than the one they’d shared an hour earlier, fingers smoothing out the inside of a bowl, water soaking a towel as she wrings it out and sets it back in its place. “And still am, is learning from the legendary Cat Grant.”

“My point is that you’re hiding who you are, Kara.” Cat’s ever to the point and Kara visibly freezes, breath catching painfully in her chest.

“What? I--I don’t--” A hint of a fake laugh, focusing on the bowl for a couple of seconds so that she doesn't break it while setting it down before she looks up, anxiousness curling down the edges of her lips, “I’m not--I don’t know what you mean, Cat.”

“I mean exactly what I said, Kara.” And somehow it's different from yesterday. From a bright conversation in an office, light and simple, and she's not sure what changed. “In the past few months, all of my assumptions about you have been proven correct.” Kara doesn’t have a chance to ask what exactly those assumptions are , picking back up the towel so that she has something to do with fingers that won’t prune no matter how long she leaves them in scalding hot water. “What I don’t understand, is why you would possibly shove all of that down. Hide your intellect from the world.”

“My...my intellect?” Kara asks, confusion settling in place of panic, towel slackening in her grip. A hint of relief showcased in a heavy breath. “Oh. Thank--I mean. Oh. You’re talking about my intellect.”

“Of course I am. I understand the need to climb the corporate ladder, Kara. We all have to. I certainly did. What I don’t understand--” Cat steps closer, eyes slitting, “Is why you feel the need to do it with only half of your guns loaded. Success takes everything you have, Kara. You have to grab it with both hands, not hide it. And even after I've given you a promotion--a chance--you’re hesitating to take what you want.”

“I’m...I don’t--” Kara watches the way the recessed lighting catches the necklace she'd slyly slid back into Cat's palms when she first arrived at lunch because it's far easier, avoiding that knowing stare.

“Ordinary, plain, humble Kara Danvers.” It sounds almost like a quote the way it leaves Cat’s lips, eyes still slit, “Why would you hide yourself for so long?” If this is how Hillary Clinton felt when Cat interviewed her, it’s no wonder she hyperventilated and ran out of the office. But Kara’s fingers twine in a rag, steam unnoticed by either one of them from the friction of it, a chin tipping backwards. It’s the first time she’s felt protective over herself in front of Cat Grant, not like a small child who’s been caught with her hand in a cookie jar (or, given her slim childhood on this Earth, like she’s eaten the entire pantry).

Maybe it’s because Kara isn’t the only one who’s spent months memorizing the way light settles on the dips and valleys of places the rest of the world doesn’t see--places neither Kara or Cat shows the world--and the sting in her chest is quickly replaced by something else.

Everything is changing.

“I like my job.” She argues, chin full of lead and nostrils barely flaring. Anger, unbidden and quiet and unrecognizable sinks into her tongue and she desperately does what she can not to show it. “I love my job. I’m good at my job.” She argues to the woman who gave it to her, stepping closer, voice challenging, “Well, I...was. I mean, I guess was. Good at my job. My...not my job.” Stronger--has it been five months (two and a half years?)and Cat’s just--“Just because you’re finally taking the time to notice me does not mean I’m hiding anything.”

Cat Grant is not intimidated, stepping closer, voice even and indomitable.

“Why do you think I hired you, Kara?”

The question only causes the anger to bat at the cage of her chest like the cutting talons of a bird desperately trying to escape--to fly--looking away for a moment as she drops the towel into the sink before she crumbles it to ash. “It doesn't matter. I proved myself to you.”

“Yes, you did.” There's something about the emphasis that steals her breath.

“And I was the one who applied in the first place, whether you thought I was ordinary or--”

“If that’s what you still think, I’m not the person who hasn’t taken the time to notice my surroundings.”

The statement gives Kara pause, anger stopping in its tracks for a breath as she blinks up at Cat, lips barely pursing.

“Why do you--” But she’s cut off by the familiar ping of a phone, shaking her head to clear rattling thoughts, breathing something sharp and cold through her mouth to pull away, wiping her hand on a nearby towel to clear it before reading the message. A sigh rattles her resolve. “I...I have to go. We moved game night, and James--”

“Don’t keep James waiting, Kara.” Cat hums, elegant fingers wrapping around a glass, snatching it off the counter nonchalantly, lifting it to her lips when she turns on her heel, “He won’t wait for forever for you.”

“Cat.” Kara protests, but the ever enigmatic voice is replaced by silence, lingering for a few confused moments before finishing the rest of the dishes faster than she should with eyes so close by. An almost ex-assistant stops by the edge of the doorway because she can’t leave like this--won’t--never will, following after a familiar, retreating back, watching for a few seconds as Cat so meticulously packs something for Carter off of a nearby bookshelf.

“Did you nee--”

“I’ve never regretted working for you for a minute, Cat.” Kara says simply, stepping a little closer. She doesn’t touch her--doesn’t forge the gap, especially with Carter so close--but when Cat turns to look at her, the anger has been replaced with something quiet and maybe just as strangling, but genuine. “And one of these days, ordinary or not, I’ll convince you to come to game night with me.”

Cat’s hand slackens on a tshirt, turning around to meet her, and Kara watches it--watches some of the tension ease out of her shoulders, lips shifting from taut to thin--before she scoffs, “Not likely.”

“That’s still a chance.”

“Ever the optimist.”

“You could say that.” Kara adjusts her glasses and they share a faint smile, Cat dropping a t-shirt in a bag before she nods.

“Goodnight, Kara.” A beat, “Thank you. For Carter.”

“Always glad to do it. Tell Carter bye for me? I really should...” A gesture towards her phone and another look shared--another slim smile--silence stretching in slightly more comfortable companionship before she catches familiar eyes.

“By the door.” Is all Cat offers, getting back to work folding. It's not a sight Kara has ever gotten used to--she would've thought there were just ever-present maids in their houses years ago--but Kara obediently tips back a small dish by the front door, finding a small blouse's button there. Ivory.

It's the first verbal acknowledgement of whatever ritual this is and a dusty swallow halts her steps right before the threshold, gaze searching shoulders. Cat doesn't say anything and Kara quietly tucks the button--too small to leave to chance--in a pocket next to a small picture. One more breath breaks the air and she leaves, door clicking with an ultimate finality, heading towards a room of people who love her but knowing there’s always going to be room for two more.

--

But the real brunt of it is that you’re only as good as who you trust.

It’s played on repeat in her mind, when she leaves, the way Cat’s tongue had curled when she said James . It wasn’t malicious--she’s seen Cat Grant tear down mountains with barely the flick of a few words, before--or spiteful--she’s heard, first-hand, Lois and Cat impressively turn a simple conversation into a complex roadmap of insults and back-handed compliments--but it still sticks in the back of her mind, playing on repeat like a broken record, thumb gently rolling the weight of a button between fingertips

It was...resigned. Not in defeat, but acceptance. It was acceptance .

“Hey-o, Earth to Krypton--” Winn waves a hand full of cards in front of her face and Kara blinks, sitting up straight, fingers cupping knees as she blinks. “You’re killing me here, smalls.”

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry, Winn.” Kara’s eyes flick over to the timer before settling back on her very, very downtrodden partner. Which is a shame, because Winn usually gets all into charades. She winces. “Don’t tell me I zoned out for the whole round.”

“I’ve been dancing around trying to get you to guess Godzilla for, like, ohIdon'tknow --” He waves the timer, “All of this.” But there’s concern mixed in with the friendly annoyance, stooping down. “You okay, there, Supergirl?”

“If you’re not, it still counts!” Alex shouts from the kitchen, but her head peeks around the corner, similarly concerned eyes settling on Kara’s shoulders. She can’t see her, but she can feel it like a warm blanket and she smiles, shaking her head.

“Yeah, yeah. Totally fine! I was just…” She waves her hand, “I just zoned out. Long day. I’m sorry.”

“You sure?” It’s James that asks this time, eyes conflicted and quiet and she reaches across the distance to squeeze his wrist.

“I’m sure. Sorry, guys--I’m in it. I’m here, now. Bring it.” She claps her hands, shifting forward, pointing towards her partner, but James catches her wrist, this time, holding up a finger.

“Hey, can we, uh--” A gesturing thumb thrusts back towards her barely-sequestered bedroom, “Talk? For a sec?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She straightens glasses. Stands and straightens a dress. Straightens her shoulder and a magazine she passes by on the way to the small corner, not missing the wincing looks her sister and best friend share over a board game. “Is everything okay?”

“That’s my line.” James notes, arms crossing as he leans against the wall, eyebrows raising. “No offense or anything, but you haven’t really been all that there today. Or...in a while. Winn is a really, really bad liar. Like…” He laughs, gesturing with both hands, “Worse than you, and you’ve had him covering for you at work? It's getting weird since he doesn't really work there.”

“Oh.” Kara winces a bit, slowly sliding the glasses off of her nose so that she can focus on the man in front of her, “Well...I didn’t ask him to…”

“What’s going on, Kara?” His voice is gentler--quieter--eyes flicking back towards the room before settling on her, dipping his head to come closer, crossing a bit of the gap. “Whatever it is, you know I have your back. Is it about the alien guy, because we’re gonna find hi--”

“No. It’s not--it’s…” She sighs, the weight suddenly heavier on her shoulders, dropping herself onto a squeaking bed with a sigh, “Complicated. But not bad.”

“It doesn’t have to do with…” He vaguely gestures between them and Kara shakes her head, folding the glasses and setting them in her lap. “Does it have to do with Cat? Since whenever you’re gone...” He tries again and Kara’s lips part, but no words settle on her tongue. “And...there’s the part I implied earlier about you being a bad liar.”

“James…” She sighs, hands nervously settling on her glasses before the bed dips, a larger hand, warm and familiar, smoothing over her own.

“Look, okay, whatever it is.” He squeezes her hand and she looks up at him, guilt a familiar breath slowly seeping between lips. “Just follow your heart, okay? Hey, your heart,” He takes her hand and points up to a framed picture, a stolen moment in time just for her and the guilt is strangling until she looks back up and sees his eyes--sees the familiarity there--and settles. “That’s what’s saved everyone in this city. Whatever it’s telling you to do, if you listen to it, I’m sure you’ll figure out the right thing.”

Kara squeezes his hand, thankful and quiet, letting out a slow, quivering breath as she looks up at the picture, leaning into him despite herself. “You...know when I said that I didn’t think I could have a relationship? I meant that...I can’t.” She clarifies, not letting go of his hand, because she does owe him this, the feeling of his breath on her lips not too faint of a memory. “I meant that there will always be someone who needs saving, or an emergency, or a danger...I meant that I’ll...always have to be ordinary, regular, humble ,” She quotes from a conversation James will never know, “Kara Danvers in order to keep my family safe. To keep Kal-El safe. And...and you’re right. My heart does always know what it wants--what to do--but sometimes...”

She stands, hands pushing through hair, tossing the glasses onto her bed as a rushed hand runs over her lips.

“Kara…”

“I just don’t understand what she wants from me. Who she wants me to be. I’m--I’m not who she thinks I am. Or, worse, I am and I'll never--”

“Well maybe it’s not about what you think she thinks.” James stands, grabbing his jacket in a hand, both hands gently curving over shoulders, lightly shaking so that Kara will look at him. “Like I said, I don’t know what’s going on. But take it from me, as your friend ,” James smiles and it lightens the room and Kara’s not sure why tears prick the back of her throat, something unraveling in her stomach, “And as someone who worked with Clark and Cat for years . If Cat Grant sees you at all, being yourself is all you need to do. Stop overthinking things. I get it, things...didn’t work out between us.” Hands shove into pockets, a jacket cupped in the crook of an arm, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you happy, alright?”

Kara leans forward and before she can think twice, lips gently brushing along a smooth cheek in thanks, hand wiping a hint of moisture from a smiling cheek, a taste of bittersweet on her tongue.

The perfect guy for a girl who doesn’t know how to pretend how to be perfectly imperfect, anymore.

“Thank you, James.”

“Hey,” He raises both hands in a humble display, still smiling, “But for the record? Alex is so gonna kill you when she finds out we talked about this first.”

“Oh, boy, yeah.” Kara nods emphatically.

“Yeah.” His laugh is light and she feels a torn seam slowly repairing, a needle thread with stronger string as it pulls gaps closed. “So...are you gonna go--”

“Cat can wait.” They share a moment, just a moment, before Kara tucks her arms in his, tugging him back into the main room, smiling at the sight of Winn and Alex huddled on a couch, feverishly whispering gossip Kara will do them the favor of pretending she can’t hear.

Since all of it is about her.

“I kind of feel like being with family right now.”

“We were definitely not talking about yo--oh-woaa--”

Alex shoves Winn off of the back of the couch when Kara comes into view, a groan coming from the floor as his head pops up over the back of it.

“Ok,” Winn’s a fluffed mess of hair as arms struggle to heft himself up, Alex shrugging as she lifts a beer to her lips, “Oww.”

“We were definitely talking about you.” Alex notes, “And you’re telling me later.”

Kara loves them in this moment more than she could ever hope to show, beaming as she tugs a laughing James over to the couch, shoving a potsticker in her mouth with a happy hum.

“You guys are great.”

“Well, pfft…” Winn runs hands through his hair and Kara lovingly smooths down an antenna of it, voice exaggerated and smile tucked as he plops down next to her. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

They get back to charades soon enough and eventually James and Winn leave the apartment underneath quiet sounds of night in the city, Kara and Alex settling down on the couch with blankets and a tub of ice cream, her sister’s head tucked in the crook of her neck.

“He’s right, you know.” Alex notes, taking a mouthful for once not safeguarding it beforehand like Kara might eat it before it even touches her lips, rain gently pattering the windows like an erratic heartbeat, “You should follow your heart.”

It’s all she can do not to drop the ice cream.

“You heard?”

Alex’s smirk is nothing short of a shit-eating grin, grabbing the ice cream from suddenly slack fingers, “Nope.” The ‘p’ pops, winking upwards, snuggling in closer, “I’m just that good.” A little more serious, “That’s always his advice. Anytime you tell me you talk, it’s always ‘follow your heart, Kara’. And I have to admit…” A little gentler, “It’s not bad advice.”

“Yeah.” It’s a little quieter, listening to the sound of the rain mix with her sister’s heartbeat--with the sound of the ice defrosting around a large tub. “He makes it sound so simple.”

“Because you’re the one that always makes it look so simple.” The tub plunks down on the nearby coffee table, a sister’s ever-attentive hands tugging Kara into her lap, patting a knee. “Your whole life you’ve always chased after your heart. All of us have watched that--the city’s inspired by it--and I’ve spent years trying to convince you not to do it and...I was totally wrong.” It’s a quiet admittance, setting the ice cream aside, “So...why aren’t you doing it right now?”

“I am.” Kara quietly argues, “I think that’s the problem.” Dark eyebrows arch and a sigh leaves from sagging, deceivably small shoulders as Kara turns around, dropping a head down to a chest now that it’s devoid of steadily-melting ice cream. And then pulls the bucket into her lap, folding around white with a warm spoon and a sigh. “I’m doing the chasing. It’s just...when did my life become so complicated?”

“You mean before or after you lost your planet, floated around in space for a couple decades, crash landed on a brand new planet and had to learn a completely different culture, language, and history?” Alex pats her shoulder, continuing, “Found out your baby cousin was a grown man. Lost our Dad. Flashed the whole varsity soccer team Junior year--”

“You’re never letting me live that down.”

“--Or when you became Supergirl and almost lose your life on a daily basis helping your sister protect the planet and routinely save the lives of all of the people we care about?” Alex finishes without missing a beat, shrugging her shoulders underneath the weight of Kara’s head, fingers brushing through blonde locks. “Your life-- our lives--have always been complicated.”

“Not ordinary.” Kara murmurs, eyes watching the rain gently roll down fogged windows.

“Right. But the point is,” Alex taps above the edge of a heart, right near the edge of a shoulder, “Through all of that, you’ve helped people. Our lives are only going to get more complicated, and I know you’ll still always help people. Your heart’s good, Kara, and you always follow it. It’s not going to stop. It’s who you are.”

“What?” Kara’s brows knit, leaning up in a warm embrace to turn around, leaning back just enough to meet Alex’s eyes, idly setting the ice cream back down. “What did you say?”

“I said it’s who you--”

“It’s who I am.” It’s a realization that settles as brightly as the sun in her chest, stumbling back off of the couch, “It’s who I am. That’s what she--she meant I--It’s about who I am. Not the glasses, not Supergirl, not--” A rush of air tosses Alex’s hair as Kara grabs her glasses, standing in front of her sister in a changed set of clothes, determination clear on her face a moment later. “It’s me . I've never even asked her. That’s it. Thanks, Alex.” A gentle kiss is brushed over a forehead, smile wide and easy, “I gotta go. Love you.”

“No--” The apartment is empty a moment later, Kara hearing the faint edge of “...problem.” half a mile away before she realizes she forgot something very, very important.

Another gust of wind in the apartment and the ice cream Alex has immediately lifted into a lap is replaced with a stuffed animal from Kara’s closet, mouth happy and cool with her roadtrip snack, the faint--very faint--sound of her sister collapsing back into the couch (probably throwing hands up in frustration but cuddling the bear, anyways) as she yells after her--

“Didn’t want it anyways!”

--

So choose who you trust wisely, Kara.

It’s fortune that favors the bold and Kara is apparently very, very bold today when the air cracks around her and she steps around the corner to see none other than Cat Grant, herself, slowly making her way into an apartment. Carter is dropped off, late night hours likely tasting like bourbon on Cat’s lips--just enough to get the woman through the weekend--and Kara isn’t surprised because the CEO always stays close to work when her son isn’t nearby.

The breath steels itself in her lungs, clothes soaked from the flight here, voice husking as she watches Cat still before she even talks--freeze like she feels her here--but it won’t be Supergirl that greets a journalist's gaze. 

“You’re right. I am hiding a pretty big part of myself.”

“Kara--” Cat slowly turns around, stepping forward just enough to be covered by the awning, nose wrinkling a little in distaste, “You’re drenched.”

“Yeah. I ran here.” She says simply, shaking her head, a few drops of water going with it.

“You ran .” It’s drawled, eyes barely slitting, and Kara continues before they can get stuck on a far easier topic.

“I don’t want James.” It’s blunt--to the point--voice as strong as Supergirl and eyes as sincere as Kara Danvers, heart pounding somewhere inbetween as she steps closer. Somewhere along a third line that’s developed between the axis of the two, tethered to a tired Cat Grant. “I know we didn’t talk about it, and I’m sorry if I let you think that I did.”

“It’s none of my business who you--” But Cat sounds a little quieter underneath the raging rain.  Water sticks a ponytail to a neck, glasses too wet for Kara to see, an arm wiping the moisture from fogged glass, shaking her head as she sucks in a small breath.

“I don’t want James.” Kara repeats, not letting the lie settle between them--not letting the other woman try to get another one in, either. “I don’t want that...that relationship. I don’t want conventional or normal. For once, I’m letting myself do more than want the not-normal.” Kara steps closer, feeling the water from the awning mix with the heavens, painting her hair in wet drops, smile shakily spreading, “I know you think I’m trying to push you into that, the traditional thing, but I’m not. I want whatever really complicated, beautiful, infuriating thing it is I have with you.”

Cat pauses and Kara’s close enough to see it, even through her glasses--watch the way Cat Grant, for only a few moments, is breathless.

“Sex.” Cat supplies. “It’s just very good, very frequent, very inventive s--”

“No. Well, I...yes.” Kara clears her throat--straightens her glasses--hands finding hips before one finger waves in indignation, realizing Cat’s steered her off track. “That’s not my point, Cat. You know it’s more than that. I mean, yeah,” A faint laugh, “The sex is, like... really really good. I agree with you. I’ve always agreed with you on that. But stop trying to deny it’s--”

“That’s a tall glass, Kara.” Cat shakes her head, stance mirroring Kara’s for only a moment before she saunters closer, water painting an invisible line between them. “It’s funny, after that week where you had that little--” A wave of a hand, tucking down Kara’s finger like an unloaded gun, unimpressed as she shakes off a few wayward droplets from a manicured nail, “Angelina Jolie dip into the deep end last year, I’ve always wondered why you didn’t just come into my office and demand what you wanted...until I remembered who I was dealing with.” There’s something about the tone that curls in Kara’s shoulders, stepping closer, only her shoulders left in the storm, now.

“Well maybe this is--” Voice quieter when she hears someone round the corner of the street, despite the fact that they’re far out of earshot, eyes flicking to the side before they settle back on familiar eyes and now-crossed arms. “Maybe this is me demanding.” A beat, brows constricting in something pained. “I don’t...Nevermind, this is not me demanding. I’m not going to demand anything from you, Cat. You don’t demand anything from someone in any kind of relationship. That’s not how it works.”

“Well…” Lips barely part, Cat’s hands sliding into ever-fashionable pockets as she searches Kara’s features for a moment, seeming to hesitate--to pause--before she steps closer, imperceptibly, and it’s a moment--a golden sun--and Kara doesn’t bother to stifle the hope blooming from barely-damp fingers. “That would be a change.”

“I just…” Footsteps sound in wet concrete and Kara isn’t quiet because she’s scared that someone will overhear, the silence between them fragile. She’s scared of something else altogether--terrified. She found more peace floating endlessly in a vacuum of space than this cracked line of cement, tiptoeing along the edges of cracked slivers of ice, trying to outstretch a hand to save her before they can both fall into unknown depths. A faint, vulnerable laugh on her lips: “I’m tired of my life being full of ultimatums. Of fitting into one box. Or...twelve. I just want to be with you, Catherine. I just want to be with you.”

“Kara…”

“Is that so bad?” It’s a question that she can’t keep from cracking, asking more than just a question. Something Cat understands, given the knowing eyes across from her: “To be tired at the thought of even pretending that I’m not happy when I’m with you?”

“Now isn’t the time,” Cat’s eyes close, “To ask me questions you aren’t prepared to hear the answers to, Kara.” It’s an echo of a time that feels so long ago and a smile is waiting for Cat when her eyes open.

“I’m ready to hear anything you want to tell me, whenever you’re finally ready to tell me.” Kara gently settles on, instead.

A car rushes past them, the sound of tires spinning through sputtering water onto the sidewalk not much of a distraction from the faint breath dancing mist into the air.

Ironically enough, the silence between them reminds her of space, too.

“If we keep doing this, there aren’t going to be any attachments, Kara. There can’t be.” Cat finally settles on--fights--and Kara feels like a hot air balloon, chest expelling with a gust of hot air, fire underneath the brim of her nose.

“Other than our friendship.” Kara argues, not willing to let that point slide.

A wave of a dismissive hand, practically conceding, Cat’s eyes dropping down to her lips. “But something tells me you’re not very good at staying detached, are you?” Reminding, “Miss, ‘I don’t do ‘casual’.”

“I don’t.” Kara agrees, but still steps closer, “This has never been casual for me. I’m not making a deal that I won’t...have an attachment to you, Cat.” She wouldn’t be able to, sincere and honest: “I already do. I’m already attached. You already have one, too.”

“Kara…” It’s her second warning, tiptoeing along dangerous waters. She’s a breath away, now, the woman in question curling fingers around her elbows, slowly untangling the crossed arms in front of a chest.

“You do, Cat.” Nails dip in the crevice of Cat’s very own personal fortress of solitude over a quaking heart, “I mean, you can't just...five months and no attachment? I’m not pushing you. I’m not asking for a relationship. Not a...courtship or the ‘hey come meet my parent’ weekend. I actually think a traditional relationship is the...exact opposite of a good idea. I don’t want to have lunch with your mother.” A faint laugh at that from slightly hunched shoulders that Kara wants to trace with fingertips, “In fact, I promise I won’t make you have lunch with your mother.” Cat’s laugh is a little more obvious, head tipping back to run her fingers along a chin before arms once more cross,

"That's a binding verbal contract." It's a hum that doesn't quite meet uncharacteristically hesitant eyes.

"Give me a piece of paper and I'll sign it." Kara promises. "I’m not as traditional as you think.”

“And you’re not ordinary,” Cat argues in a way that makes Kara shift on her feet--look away for a beat before she looks back and settles, meeting the challenge head on. If she’s intent on being honest with Cat, it’s only fair that she’s honest in return. The woman proceeding--letting it go, for the moment--tipping a chin back, “Nothing traditional. At least there’s something we can agree on.” Cat’s muscles flex underneath the touch but ease at the swipe of thumbs.

“Attachments aren’t bad. Letting people in doesn’t mean the end of the world.” Brows knit, thinking of family and open chests for hearts, “Well, usually.” A shake of the head, finally untangling arms, smile spreading when Cat gives no resistance. It might be contagious because the edges of Cat’s lips bat upwards. “Letting me in isn’t the end of the world. I promise.”

A murmur, “You’re intent on teaching me that, aren’t you.”

“And if you don’t want that attachment, I...I understand.” She clears her throat--tries not to swallow--tries not to lean into the soft touch of Cat’s fingers brushing along the bone of her wrist, a small gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed. “I told you I’m not going to demand anything. You can always walk away. We’ll just...stay friends and I’ll always be there for you. Always. I promised you that.” Adding, words wrinkled in a way her eyes won’t be for centuries underneath a yellow sun, “Maybe I’m not good at staying detached but I’m...I’ve had a lifetime of learning how to let go.” A breath, shifting on feet, trying to find equilibrium in the nearly imperceptible waiver of her voice, “Please.”

It’s a heavy statement that hangs between them and Kara lets out a quaking breath when it’s Cat that breaks the silence between them, fingers smoothing up a bicep--a neck--to curve around a cheek, eyes dropping back down to lips.

“This time there are going to be rules.” It’s a breath and Kara doesn’t bother hiding the wide smile that slowly bridges the gaps between her cheeks.

“I love rules.” It’s an immediate response as Kara breathes a sigh of relief, stepping closer, “I’m great at rules.”  Their bodies pull closer, city fading into white noise around them.

“We’re going to keep everything else strictly professional.” Fingers curl in the fabric by her shoulders before smoothing it out, like Cat isn’t sure whether to console or break.

“Yes, Ms. Grant.” Kara immediately supplies, closing the distance until a breath is all that stays between them. “We always do.”

Another car comes a little too close to the curb, a waterfall raining down, Kara thoughtlessly tugging Cat away from it before it can hit in a whirlwind, a hint of laughter breaking between them, a spell broken for only a moment. Surprisingly, an elegant wrist is the one that dips, offering open fingers to her momentary savior, nodding back towards the apartment. Wordlessly--immediately--Kara takes the gesture and their ascent up to a familiar door is uneventful and calmer than it should be. Natural. It’s only when the door closes and their fingers untangle--when those same fingers turn into molten silk as they slide along bones of a tilted hip, gently tugging Cat closer in something that, for once, isn’t immediacy or secrecy--that it feels heavy, at all.

“This is either going to be the best idea I’ve ever heard from you...or the most ill-advised.” Cat murmurs, hands smoothing up clenching forearms--biceps--curving around shoulders, ultimately once more finding a hand buried in wet, free hair, impossibly soft as she guides Kara down. “I’m leaning towards it being a horrible idea, Kara.”

“You can fire me if I’m wrong.” Kara offers, eyes settling on lips.

“Of course I can.” Their mouths are a breath apart and blue eyes watch water drip from the rims of glasses onto Cat’s cheeks and lets out a small breath.

It's time.

“Wait.” A nervous laugh strangles in her chest, fingers slowly moving up to dip in the black band of slim glasses, Cat’s look of surprise and confusion turning into something impossibly darker. Kara will never know words enough to describe the faint, almost knowing huff of air from Catherine’s lips, or the sharp curve of nails behind her neck. 

Anticipation.

She has to close her eyes as she removes the glasses from the bridge of her nose, blinks coming into focus so that she can see her--see all of her. Every inch. Every breath. Every smile. Their eyes meet and Kara could bury herself here, gladly, instead of going in flight to Rao whenever the time comes. Because it isn’t nakedness or vulnerability that spreads in her chest--

It's something close to freedom.

“ Oh. ” Cat breathes, one of the hands untangling to brush between the spot where glasses normally sit--where an impression should be, but isn’t--and skims up to trace the line of a faint, crinkling brow, instead. There’s a hint of moisture caught in a reverent gaze--an overwhelming amount of emotion caught between both of them--and Catherine holds Kara Danvers in fragile hands that have built empires underneath nails for the first time since they’ve met, a world protected underneath a curving palm.

"Hi." Cat breathes and Kara's swallow is so dry that the faint scratching tickles her ears, blood sounding a drum in her chest.

"Hi."

When Cat kisses her, Kara can’t seem to remember why she agreed to the notion of it being anything close to bad at all, murmuring against a warm mouth, glasses clattering to the ground as Cat pulls her tighter and tighter past an event horizon and into a singularity she can’t see, all of time passing between the touch of her lips:

“Yes, Catherine,” She’s breathless, Cat’s breath warming her lips, seeing the whole world behind her eyes, but only tasting it for the first time in this moment. It's intoxicating. “You’re right. This is probably a horrible idea.” But she doesn’t pull away. 

“Kara.” A tsk as Cat kisses her, fingers not as gentle along shoulders as they were underneath uncovered eyes when she pushes Kara onto her bed, crawling on top of her, a blouse pulled over a head in one swift, elegant movement. “Always the pessimist.” It’s a husked laugh in an ear as Cat pulls away, gentler, cupping cheeks. Lips brush over a left eyelid--a right--arms that could crush a building into ash gently circling, protective, around Cat’s waist, breath catching as she buries a prayer against a chin, blinking away moisture in her eyes. A wetness that Cat has the grace not to comment on as thumbs swipe underneath bare eyes, murmuring against parted lips: “It wouldn’t kill you to have a little faith.”

“I do.” Kara promises, not in the mood to join the charade, feeling light in her chest but heavy in her head, a contradiction of pained breaths behind her ribs, hand smoothing up a chest to rest over Cat’s fluttering heart, memorizing the familiar beat with free eyes. “I have it in you.”

“Then don’t worry.” Cat kisses her, fingers always tangling in free hair when they have the chance, easing them both back onto the bed, nipping at a lip. Promising in the most Catherine’s ever given her, Kara’s hand listening to the solemn drum of her heart, “Stop demanding so much of yourself when you’re not demanding anything from anyone else. You’re the only one giving ultimatums, Kara. It’s not so bad to want to be happy if you believe you deserve it.”

Kara lets out a quivering breath, trying to focus just on Cat instead of the entire world behind her, mind pulsing until she sees just dark eyes and smooth lips, honesty the only language left between them.

Rule #11...

She couldn't be asking.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this to a girl who wore a pastel sweater with a zebra on it, today.” There’s a world of words unsaid between them, Cat’s hand skimming down a cheek, fingers pushing underneath the fabric of a shirt to smooth up ribbed blue, Kara’s stomach clenching at the weight of it. At the want of it.

Lust isn’t always just a physical need and she feels something longing within her chest, lungs aching to voice it. Like every single fiber of her being is curling towards the emotion in her throat.

Towards Catherine.

“Let yourself be happy.” Cat might ask the world between them--might demand or request or promise, Kara isn’t sure--but fingers smooth up an arm to cheeks, holding a small body against her. “Let yourself feel like you deserve it, Kara.”

“Do you?” It’s a quiet question like a girl who’s just learned English, unsure how the world works or why sand crumbles beneath her fingers when she tries to hold it, fading away into the wind of a beach. “Feel like you deserve it.”

Cat’s lips part, the most Kara knows she’ll ever admit, a vulnerable whisper on her tongue, “I do right now.” It sounds dangerously close to I do with you.

Kara’s response is to pull Cat closer to her and kiss her for everything she’s worth, arm wrapping around warm shoulders as she pulls her to the bed, heartbeat falling into sync with the wild one against her chest.

Happiness.

The sound of a button falling out of the safe pocket of a suit, rolling along the crevices of a floor to be tucked away in a dusty corner, is forgotten underneath the sound of a moan.

It’s the first time she ever makes love to Catherine Grant and she refuses to focus on whether or not it will be the last.

Because they will define you.”

[transstudiesarchive]

Trans Poetry

These are some poems I wrote from 2017-2020. I first came to the realization that I was trans in late 2014, and these poems were written as a way for me to process my identity and struggle. Each piece’s title is a link to take you to where you can read it, and after the link is a brief explanation of my writing process.

who he, who she

Possibly the first poem I wrote about my transness, who he, who she was also one of the first poems I wrote that I feel best lends itself to being read aloud. If you can, please watch the video I’ve provided. This was written and performed in 2017, and that year feels like decades before 2020. Trans discussion and transness as a concept has come a long way in simply 3 years. At the time of writing, I remember I had the sentiment that my peers in the queer community knew having a trans identity was not a choice, but nearly everyone I knew over the age of 40 didn’t agree with that. As it was one of my first tries at poetry, as well as a piece meant to be read aloud, I tried to be blunt with my metaphor and simple in the feeling I wanted to convey. In later writing I would experiment a bit more with the text formatting of the writing itself to express the sentiment I wanted.

This post will be very long otherwise; If you’re interested, there is more poetry below the “Keep reading” cut, thank you.

fuck this, & fuck you

Written in 2017, I was processing my parents’ reaction to my coming out. Like I say in the video, this was something written in the moment. It was cathartic to write as well as to present, but these are feelings that I continue to process to this day.

Venting Content Warning: Dysphoria, Suicide

Straight to the point, Venting is essentially a stream of consciousness writing. My perfectionist tendencies were still largely at their strongest though, so the amount of editing that has happened after writing the piece probably disqualifies it from that genre. The writing tries to be detached and explanatory of the events of my life up to the point of writing, but I let the emotion that overtook me while remembering to flow out into the words as well.

Doa Content Warning: Violence

I wrote Doa--pronounced “dough uh”--with the melody of this song in my head as I wrote. I’ve included the music video for the song to show the melody I wrote to. Doa is simply the acronym DOA(Dead on Arrival) pronounced phonetically. The title just sort of came out of nowhere. I remember wanting a title that portrays a hollow and somber quality. The open airy quality in the mouth when one says DOA as a word lends itself to this.  The “uh” at the end of pronouncing “Doa” as a word also implied an unsure or inquiring tone; Perhaps the subject in front of the viewer looks dead now, but will that always be the case? I wrote Doa as a way to capture a snapshot of my depression. When writing this piece, I remember having a slight reverie in the sadness I was feeling in the moment. It was like my depression was an old friend that had come to visit me again. I once read about other people with depression experiencing something like this as well, and I was aware of the danger in it. This writing is just as much of a warning to myself as it is to anyone else with depression. Content Warning for blood and violence in the video.

skullflame

A written channeling of my depression into anger at the politics of 2016 and ‘17. skullflame was written in response to President Trump’s ban against transgender people serving in the military as well as to the passing of North Carolina’s House Bill 2, the Public Facilities Privacy & Security Act. HB2 was a hot topic because it was a bill that amended state law to compel schools and public facilities containing single-gender restrooms to only allow people of the corresponding sex listed on their birth certificate to use them.  It was partially repealed in 2019 by another bill, albeit in a way that further complicates being trans in North Carolina. If you’re interested in reading an article written when the “repeal” bill for HB2 was first being discussed, there’s an article here. 

I’ve unfortunately lost the original piece, but this a link to an instagram post I made of the illustration. Link

I drew this a month later after writing skullflame, and this was my attempt at conveying what the skull in my mind looked like, a literal symbol for how my head felt like before the metaphorical surge of fire in the poem. I wanted to draw the skeletal hand’s pointer finger reaching into an eye socket as described in the poem, but I had no confidence I could draw the bones of a hand effectively. I don’t have much practice drawing, so I wanted to keep my subject small and limit myself to just the skull. I included the palm tree to allude to an oasis in a desert, like the desert dry winds in the poem, as well as to imply a haven or refuge. The refuge in the oasis is fleeting, as shown by the waterfalls that obscure the eye sockets. Conversely, the shadow of the tree onto the water is to show that despite the rushing water, the pool is still and calm, seemingly unending. But for how long that would be the case, who could say? With the tools I had, I wanted to convey a still moment that was simultaneously kinetic and in motion, similar to lightning in a bottle.

SoC 11/15/18, 5:30 am CW: Dysphoria/Internal Transphobia

SoC is an acronym for stream of consciousness. I wrote this while on an almost 2 hour long commute to a minimum wage job at a packaging warehouse. In my commute, I would walk for about a half hour. Despite it being below freezing temperature outside on a dark winter morning, I remember feeling compelled to type this into my phone and do my best to ignore the sting of the cold on my fingers. Any names mentioned in this writing have been changed. I wrote this to vent out feelings of depression, dysphoria, and my past romantic relationships.

facsimile Content Warning: Self Harm  

I wrote facsimile intending for a short story rather than poetry. I was(and still am) captivated by the vivid imagery of human anatomy and body physiology in writing. The changes in perspective through the usage of pronouns are intentional. I feel a kinship with the concept of a shapeshifter.

pastresent feel

One of the shortest poems I’ve written. “Pastresent” is a portmanteau of past and present that is meant to describe those moments of my life where I found myself analyzing the past when I’m expected to be in the present and talking to someone. But it also acknowledges how much more clarity I have in my reflection versus the now.

spring-a-ting

spring-a-ting is one of my first experimental attempts with formatting in written poetry. Initially typed into a note document on my phone while in bed at midnight, I had a limited repertoire to work with. Written in late 2018, this piece is meant to evoke a nervous happiness I felt from a new relationship with another trans person, my gender euphoria, and to remind myself to practice mindfulness for the now and present rather than the past or future. 

foreverfight

Currently the only piece utilizing special characters and color in its typing. foreverfight was first typed into a phone, then moved to a desktop to insert the symbols and colors. Using only the text editor, I wanted the characters to resemble pixels; the scrambled electric and gray snow of a garbled signal on a screen. foreverfight is meant to capture my struggle with depression as well as my processing of my black and white view of interpersonal relationships as romantic or platonic.

Inspiration

I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until my mid 20s, and I still grapple with self-criticism of the executive dysfunction of my ADHD that I incorrectly call “laziness” sometimes. The most recent piece, Inspiration was written in reassurance to myself. But I also saw that it could be motivating for others to read, and so I hope that it is for you as well.

Thank you for reading!

Aisha

[blandbookchortles]

Handbook for Mortals: Chapter 0: The Fool

The first thing we learn about Zade, our protagonist, is that

I've always envied those with normal lives

and goes on to tell us that her life has never been normal, and that she'd give anything to be normal. I'm not going to lie; I probably wrote something like this when I was 15, but in my defense, everyone in my family was suffering from clinical depression, and also I was 15.

I’m sure most people would envy me, but some days I think I’d trade places in a heartbeat.

You know how Harry Potter lives with abusive relatives before being whisked away to Hogwarts? And how Katniss is always on the brink of starvation? YA characters often start out in relatively shitty conditions because it automatically gives them motivation to pursue their grand adventure, and also because it automatically makes them sympathetic. Hell, even Bella of the Twilight series had her whole life uprooted and moved to a shitty little town.

Basically, my point is that a character complaining that their life is enviably (though nonspecifically) unusual isn't a good way to get readers on their side.

You might expect Zade to launch into a scene depicting her non-normal-yet-enviable life, so that her circumstances are more clear to the reader, but nope, we get more contemplation on the nature of desire.

Isn’t it true we always want what we can’t have? The grass is always greener, so to speak. Of course, if you really checked out the other side, you’d probably find out that the grass is Astroturf—fake and brittle and lifeless.

Besides the point that this little paragraph adds nothing to this little introductory section that also adds nothing, and besides the point that "the grass may be greener but it's astroturf" is a pretty played-out metaphor, I also want to point out that eventually, when Zade goes off on her Grand Adventure, she has the time of her life and frequently celebrates how normal it all is (despite the fact that it's not. At all). So in Zade's case, the grass is not "always greener" and it is not "astroturf."

Zade tells us that she's decided to spare us the details of what exactly it is that's so unusual about her life, instead opting for starting on the day she left home.

Which makes me wonder why she didn't just start there in the first place.

But then she just continues on with her monologue:

I knew I was choosing a path, and hoped it was the right one.

Really? She hoped the path she was choosing was the right one? Glad she specified that.

Either way, I knew that once I made my choice that was it. I couldn’t double back and try again. It was to be how it was to be.

Because once you leave home, you can never come back. This might actually hold water if she were given some kind of ultimatum, but [spoilers] she doesn't.

I personally believe some things in life are chosen by Destiny and some things are your choice. You have options in most situations, but there are certain paths that you have no choice but to go down.

She still hasn't begun the story, but instead I guess we get more of Lani Sarem's personal views on predetermination and free will. She goes on about how struggling against capital-D Destiny is futile, etc etc, and is then generous enough to counsel her audience about their ultimate lack of agency:

My advice? Don’t fight it. Destiny will always win. I’m pretty sure Destiny doesn’t play fair, either, but I don’t think that even matters here.

WELL, THEN WHY IS THAT IN HERE?  Why is Lani/Zade giving advice? If she wants to write a novel about the futility of fighting destiny, then show us situations in which the protagonist fights her destiny and fails. But that's not even what this book is about. This entire little tangent is irrelevant.

Then Zade talks about how some memories stick with you forever for another paragraph, which is another theme that is never mentioned again. But it's just meant as a segue into the actual story; you can practically feel the Microsoft Movie Maker Ripple transition that will undoubtedly be used in the film. And finally, after 463 words, we have finally arrived at the first scene.

We learn that it is July, and that it is overcast, and, not even a full sentence into the first proper paragraph of the story, we learn all about Zade's hair:

the wind that blew swiftly through my blonde hair. It also spun about the chunky pieces on the lower half of my long hair, which I had dyed to be a multitude of fun colors. Today they were pink, purple, blue, and a turquoise green, but I have a habit of changing the colors frequently. My perfectly cut bangs stayed mostly unaffected by the wind except for a few squirrelly pieces.

These are the important details, folks. As you'll soon realize, Zade is a cancerous mass around which all other characters revolve; the only other works I can think of that are so blatantly portraits of hilarious narcissism are "My Immortal" and "Pale Fire". But then, I'm pretty sure it's intentional in both of those. The narcissism on display here is almost certainly not.

Then we get to go back to the weather, which feels like a thunderstorm, and Zade tells us at length (200 words!) that she loves thunderstorms.

I’d lived in that one-horse southern town my whole life, practically a quarter of a century.

So our protagonist is about 24 years old, but this novel is being sold as "young adult."

Zade tells us that "Old people" say that Centerville, was the capital of Tennesee for day but then Andrew Jackson changed it. Here are Zade's thoughts on the matter:

I guess it’s true, though I’ve never really been able to confirm that, nor do I guess it really matters.

Hey, Lani, I'm going to give you a quick and dirty editing tip: when you find yourself writing something along the lines of "but that doesn't matter," consider deleting whatever immediately preceded those words.

My mother is the area tarot card reader and spell caster.

She makes it sound like an official position.

People come to see Zade's mother when they want their fortunes told, and I'm not sure why Lani thought that the audience wouldn't infer this on their own. People in Zade's town think her mother is the devil, but Zade points out that there are all sorts of prophetically-inclined people in the Bible. You can tell that Lani probably argued about this a lot when she went through her Wicca phase.

Zade laments the hypocrisy of the townsfolk, and alludes to the fact that her family actually is ~magic~. She tells us that her family's weird reputation made it so that she had no friends growing up.

It’s hard to be looked at not for who you are but for what people think you are.

So, to get this straight, the townsfolk don't want their kids to play with Zade because they think she's magic. But Zade actually *is* magic. So the assertion that Zade is looked at "not for who she is but for who people think she is" is wrong. She is magic, and she is looked at as magic. She can complain about not being given a chance, but the way her complaint is phrased makes it sound as though she actually doesn't have any weird powers.

Zade takes a step off of her porch, and breifly describes the house before getting sidetracked into her own appearance again:

My well-worn and once brightly colored (but now badly faded with dirt spackle) Converse high-top sneakers made a quick tapping noise on each step. I had just replaced the laces on them so at least they looked somewhat decent. My favorite high-waisted Levi’s dark denim skinny jeans—ripped in all the right places—made the swishing noise as I lifted my legs and my perfect flowy Lucky’s top that I wear far too often billowed around me.

I guess one of Zade's powers is some kind of narrative time-dilation, because it takes her 151 words to say "I stepped off the front porch"

I rarely think this, but I wish a photographer had taken my picture at that moment as the outfit and the background and I may have produced a cool-looking photo.

I like how Lani makes sure to say that Zade "rarely thinks this", because even she can tell that Zade is giving the impression of being really, really into herself.

And then she tells us in 79 words that her house is an old plantation-style manor. "Gone with the Wind" is name-dropped.

And as she's putting her bags into her car, we get our third description of Zade's appearence.

People tell me I’m pretty all the time, beautiful even. I’m not sure I see what they see. I think I’m more of a cute, average-looking girl. I’m slender but I do not believe most would say skinny. Not “hot-girl skinny,” at least. I have long legs that are toned but I think my thighs are too large and I do not have a thigh gap. My arms are kinda flabby and while I do have an hourglass figure I have always felt my butt is a little too big and my face is a bit too round.

Just so you know, there have been about 270 words devoted to describing Zade's appearance so far. I am going to keep a running count, because I am now genuinely curious how much of this book is literally just descriptions of the author.

And if you have any doubts that Lani Sarem hasn't just described herself, just do a Google image search of "Lani Sarem".  According to her Model Mayhem page (which, of course she has one), Lani is 35 years old, which is 10 years older than Zade is meant to be. And I'm not saying 35 is old, or anything, but it's not 25. I'm interested to know if the studio will even let her play her the part of Zade, since Hollywood generally hates women over the age of 30. I'm not sure if I'm rooting for her, because fuck Hollywood's misogyny, or against her, because fuck her unethical attempts at achieving stardom.

Anyway, as Zade leaves her house, her mother, Dela, chases after her, and tries to convince her to stay.

Even when she was in a hurry she never looked like she was rushing or running but instead floating gingerly.

"Floating gingerly" is an odd combination of words. I'm not sure if "timid ghost" was the image Lani wanted to conjure up in our minds, but that's my first impression of Zade's mother.

I am my mother’s daughter, an exact replica. Pictures of her when she was my age look like they are of me. She still looks younger than her years, though.

I'm guessing Lani wants to play her in the movie as well. To be fair, it would help keep production costs down.

Zade confronts her mother, and expresses that she doesn't want to spend her life in a shitty little town reading tarot cards, and Dela expresses incredulity at this. Zade takes a moment to be mildly conflicted.

A big part of me loved the place and being there with her. It was comfortable. And, as much as I wasn’t always completely accepted by everyone in the town, I still belonged.

We have yet to be shown that Zade's life isn't "normal." Besides the fact that her mom has a kind of weird job and she's not the most popular girl in school, her life sounds ridiculously unremarkable. But we were also told that her life's been crazy, and I'm just not getting that impression at all.

Zade thinks about her childhood some more, and sees where she wrote her name in the concrete of the driveway. It's written backwards, because:

Due to my dyslexia, I could write things perfectly—but I wrote them backwards. It wasn’t till I was nine almost ten I could write the proper way without a lot of thought.

So obviously (1) that's not how dyslexia works, and (2), this is obviously setting up something later where her ability to write backwards will come in handy, right?

Nope. It's never mentioned again.

Zade thinks about how her mother could never understand her desire for a normal life. She imagines her mother quoting  Dr. Seuss

Why try to fit in, when you were born to stand out?

Aside from the unnecessary comma, I think is is another instance of Lani Sarem getting all her favorite quotes from inspirational image macros. I swear, she probably owns at least one piece of home decor that says "Live Laugh Love". My bet is on a throw pillow.

Also, I cannot find a source for Dr. Seuss actually saying "Why fit in when you were more to stand out". It, like the C.S. Lewis epigraph, appears to be wrongly attributed.

Zade's response to the pseudo-Seuss quote is this:

“Why would I want to stand out? People who stand out get things thrown at them. People who stand out get called names and shoved into lockers. If the people who don’t stand out are too cowardly to do any of the previously mentioned options then they just awkwardly whisper about you—the people who do stand out—as you walk by.”

"Why would I want to stand out?" asks the girl with technicolor hair.

I wonder what Zade is going to be doing once she leaves her shitty town? It sounds like she wants to go to a big city and just totally blend in, right? I could totally see her wanting to just get a 9-5 job as a receptionist, not make waves, watch Netflix everynight-- you know, normal stuff.

Zade's mom also wonders what Zade will be doing, and asks her.

Zade gets all shifty, and bites her lip, and says she has an audition.

“You’re going to audition for that show?”

Yep. Zade, who doesn't want to stand out, has aspirations of being a performer of some kind. It makes total sense, if you're Lani Sarem, I guess.

Zade says she doesn't know what's been keeping her in the shitty town for so long, and her mother said that she "had her ways". What these ways are, we never find out (even though Zade seems to know what she means by this, so I suppose it has to do with magic). The two argue some more, and it's all very emotional.

Zade says this line you can tell Lani was proud of:

“No. You haven’t ruined my life, Mom, but you also have to let me go live it now. I need to--" I choked, unable to finish.

but then they hug and I guess all is well because their conflict is never brought up ever again.

Zade gets into her car, and whaddya know, the perfect song starts blaring on the radio! It's "Open Spaces" by the Dixie Chicks, and the lyrics are eerily appropriate. So appropriate, in fact, that they are included in the text:

Who doesn’t know what I’m talking about

Who’s never left home, who’s never struck out

To find a dream and a life of their own

A place in the clouds, a foundation of stone

Many precede and many will follow

A young girl’s dreams no longer hollow

It takes the shape of a place out west

But what it holds for her, she hasn’t yet guessed

She needs wide open spaces

Room to make her big mistakes

She needs new faces

She knows the high stakes

Yep, this song is going to be in the movie, or at least Lani really wants it to be.

Even the “high stakes” reference was perfect, considering that I was headed toward Las Vegas. I had a long road ahead of me—and an even longer road when I got there—but it was what I knew that I needed to do, without any doubt.

And we learn that the show Zade is going to perform in is in Las Vegas. I am so confused about Zade's motivation for leaving. She's leaving her comfortable small town where she feels she "belongs" (even if she is a bit of a weirdo), and is going to perform in a show in Las Vegas, that most normal of cities, because she wants a "normal life" and doesn't want to "stand out." Seems legit.

You can also tell that when this is a movie, when Zade drives off into the West, the camera is going to zoom up and out while the Dixie Chicks song plays, and then the title card is going to fade in as the camera pans up toward the sky. Maybe there will be a magical road trip montage while the opening credits roll.

But that's the end of chapter 1--I mean, chapter 0. Next time: Zade auditions for the big magic show and meets many people with one-syllable names.

[junglesinparis]

Q&A: Photographer Matt Hamon on Montana, Authenticity, and Problems of the ‘Exotic’

Matt Hamon stumbled upon the Buffalo Bridge Project by accident—he was researching tips on butchering elk—but this group of primitive-skills devotees eventually became the subjects of his stunning photo series The Gleaners.

Collaboration is the group’s normal method: they spend six weeks every year assisting the Native American hunters in an annual buffalo hunt in southern Montana. Hamon (a northern California native who teaches fine art at the University of Montana) persuaded the Buffalo Bridgers to work with him, too. He is quick to point out that this work is not photojournalism. Hamon’s process—which often includes a strobe, to achieve the effect of a more formal portrait—requires cooperation and time.

The resulting photos are haunting yet comforting, timeless yet anachronistic, suffused with a sense of peaceful purpose and yet shot through with tremendous tension. The photos have an “iconographic sensibility,” Hamon says, and ring with the echoes of evocative antecedents in both frontier mythology and Western art. (The title is lifted from a famous 1857 work by from Jean-Francois Millet, which depicted three peasant women stooping to collect stray stalks of wheat left after the harvest.)

Hamon’s sensational yet deeply human images seem to encapsulate the history of the American West, in all its beauty and complexity, its contradictions and underlying tensions around questions of authenticity, integrity, and ownership that burn as strong as ever today.

Below is a condensed and edited version of my video chat with Hamon in April 2017.

-Tim Sohn

Tim Sohn: How did you discover the Buffalo Bridge Project?

Matt Hamon: When I moved from northern California, I was fascinated by the visibility of hunting here in Montana, of driving down the road during hunting season and seeing elk draped over the tops of cars. So I began tagging along with some of my colleagues. They taught me to shoot and hunt, and now the primary source of meat in my house for my wife and two children is wild game that we hunt. So I was looking for some advice online about butchering elk when I ran into a post from one of the Buffalo Bridge folks. I thought it was interesting, so I made email contact and started developing a relationship from there. And now I’ve joined them for the past two hunts.

TS: How long did you spend there this year, 2017?

MH: About ten days. I usually make two trips, and I live in camp and I pitch in. I think this is another reason I have the relationship and access—if I show up and people are shoveling, I pick up a shovel. So I’m typically there about ten days, living in camp and photographing. And then I make a return visit to show them the edits and give them prints.

All photos by Matt Hamon. Click here for the Jungles in Paris slideshow and Tim Sohn’s story about frontier revivalists in Montana.

TS: What’s their camp like?

MH: There’s a landowner there who used to run a little tepee campsite. He has some pasture and paddocks and a barn and they lease it for their time there. It’s right across the road from this grid work of public lands and National Park lands, so there are a few corridors there that the buffalo migrate through. But they move kind of at random, so it can be a lot of waiting.

TS: You’re not the only person who’s approached them about a project like this, right?

MH: Right. One of the unfortunate aspects is that they have been approached relentlessly by reality TV production companies. So there was the potential for them to take the money and make their project larger. But they’ve really tried to maintain the integrity of what they’re doing. Their style and aesthetic are authentic to them, as a group of people committed to living and working outside the standards of production and consumption. They face the world with a utilitarian outlook. And they’re also sensitive to the fact that it’s complicated when you have the Native American aspect. The Natives are the hunters. Buffalo Bridge is mostly white people interacting with that culture.

TS: Would you say that they’re, in a way, already acting out a role?

MH: They would object to that. One writer at CNN made reference to their aesthetic: beards and flannel, ‘hipster’ or whatever, like they seemed fashionable. My response was, well, that may be an appropriate reference to make for your audience, but the reality is it grows out of their commitment to this life and this outlook. And it comes back, again, to utilitarianism. They’ll say, ‘OK, we need thread, I’m going to figure out how to make thread from bison, fibers, plant fibers or whatever.’ In regard to their philosophy, it seems authentic.

“I’m guilty of the historic problem of photography: the exploitation of the exotic. My answer is to admit to the problem and present it in an interesting way.”

TS: It’s still complex—lots of layers there.

MH: With much of my subject matter, I’m guilty of the historic problem of photography, which is the exploitation of the exotic. I think I’m aware of that, and hopefully in these images there’s ultimately greater depth than the pure sensationalism of the image.  The only answer I’ve found is to admit to the problem of photography as a medium, and to present it in an interesting way. But I guess I’m so committed to the process that I’m not willing to [completely] surrender to that problem.

TS: And it seems that for you, part of getting at that is by approaching it as image-making rather than photojournalism.

MH: My entry point and interest in the medium is closer to fine art, in which you’re creating, rather than doing objective observation—as absurd as it is to suggest that photography ever functions objectively. So when I first approached them, I described myself as a portrait photographer, as someone interested in the intimacy you can achieve by standing immediately close to someone, a type of intimacy reserved for family members and lovers. You can really study someone in a carefully crafted photograph…that was my initial impulse.

TS: It must take a lot of time, achieving that intimacy.

MH: That’s part of my process. I need to be there, and it takes a while. I don’t even take my camera out. After a while they’re like, ‘Dude, where’s your camera?’ Eventually I’ll bring it out, shoot casually, observationally, until once in awhile I see a backdrop or a presentation that has an iconographic sensibility. Another way that I often navigate these relationships with anyone that I shoot is that I give something back. So I make archival prints for everyone I photograph and mail them to them.

“I’m interested in the intimacy you can achieve by standing immediately close to someone, an intimacy reserved for family members and lovers.”

TS: The title of the series alludes to this painterly idea of more formal, composed scenes.

MH: I shoot digitally, with a medium format digital back, but my process is slow and selective. And I usually bring in a light to get an aesthetic separation of subject and background. But it’s not rigidly posed—it’s more of a pause. I’m interested in that gray area between staged editorial portraiture and reality, to bring that reverent light and attention to common situations and people. And I think the old genre paintings like “The Gleaners,” by Millet, was sort of doing that too: reverently addressing normal people, rather than aristocracy. So philosophically and conceptually, that’s where I start. But when it gets down to brass tacks, it’s about the beauty and the intimacy.

TS: And then there are the facial expressions—not a lot of smiling.

MH: A lot of my portrait projects start out with people smiling. I intentionally coach that out of them, because a smile to me kills the complexity of an image—there’s such an immediate sense of awareness on the viewer’s part, of this person knowingly being photographed.

TS: Do you see this as an ongoing project?

MH: Well, now some of them will stop and stay at my house on the way to the hunt, so I consider a lot of them friends, which is unexpected. But it has motivated me to continue to revisit the hunt every year.  I think it would be nice to expand to the other cultures surrounding it: the tribal hunters, game management, and the ranching community.

TS: What are your thoughts on photographing the tribal hunters?

MH: The first year I intentionally avoided shooting any of them, because I understand how Native Americans in our country have been exoticized and all that. But in the second year, you’ll start to see some of the tribal hunters appear, because I started to communicate with them and get their permission, and share images of the hunt. I mean, ideally I think it would be someone from the tribes photographing them. Having worked with a magazine in Germany, I see there can be this assumption the Germans had that Native Americans would be in buckskins and headdresses. But you look at the images and it’s the gleaners who are dressed that way! The Native hunters are dressed in Gore-tex and camo.

TS: And how have the Buffalo Bridge folks responded to the project?

MH: There was a really rough patch after I initially shot them and the CNN piece came out. I was close to being voted off the island. I also started sharing some of my profits with them. The success of those images is partially due to my interest and technical skill, but really it’s because they’re investing time and energy and considerable expense to manage that camp. So two-thirds of every payment I get goes to them.  

TS: If you were a photojournalist, this would bring up some ethical questions.

MH: Many of the journalism students who take my fine-art photo class here at the university are appalled. I can understand that on the one hand, but that wasn’t the initial premise on which I approached them to make images. Of course I’m not the only photographer who has attended the camp. But I’m certainly the only one who says, ‘Hey, I’m getting paid. Do you want your cut?’ It’s complicated. For journalism around more political issues, the subjects are in theory gaining from having their story told. But in this case they don’t really have anything to gain.

TS: How do they deal with other producers and photographers now?

MH: I think they’ve actually become more careful about who they interact with and how. There are a lot of different views in the group, but the prevailing one is they’re interested in preservation of primitive skills, education around those aspects, and the ecology and preservation of buffalo. That’s really how they’ve started to vet serious media inquiries, to look at it though that lens and think in terms of who it will benefit, whether it will protect the buffalo. They’re not willing to sell out. And they’re really aware that there’s a sensationalism that wouldn’t get at the real issues they’d like to discuss.

[nataliesexplodinghead-blog]

BLACK DRAWING #4 [2710mmx2710mm] // TEXT

BLACK DRAWING #4 [2710mmx2710mm]

PERFROMANCE DRAWING

(Performed by Natalie Wearden and Indigo Branscombe)

Accompanying text by Natalie Wearden.

The intention is to create an entirely black, time-based drawing using theatrical elements to question the authenticity of artistic process and referring to oneself as an artist.

To refer to oneself as an artist gives rise to the supposition that one makes art. In the case of performance (although documentation can and may exist in many forms) the work itself is more often than not lacking in a concrete ‘art-object’ that may be valued and displayed in contexts other than that for which it was originally intended.

In an unstable economic climate, as a young female performance artist, the choice not to study a vocational subject is called into question. And, for those who do choose to study fine art, despite the current financial climate, there is a notable emphasis in contemporary art education placed on the production of saleable work or the utilising of fine art practice as an agent to gaining transferable skills such as carpentry, printing or video-editing; so as to graduate an employable individual in the creative job market. Young people are hyper-aware (perhaps more so than ever before due to the recession and rise in university fees) of a sense of duty to contribute to society and the economy and are gripped by the desire to gain future financial stability. In many cases performance is neither a commercially viable art medium nor a transferable technique to other career pathways within a creative field. The intangibility of performance leaves us questioning what we have to show for our hard work and dedication to three years of art education (not forgetting this costs us £9000 per annum). Although it is untrue that there is no viable way to survive financially as a performance artist or indeed to replicate or sell a performance, an uneasiness is still felt by many choosing to work with this medium around the lack of physical evidence for the time spent conceptualising and realising a work. Perhaps, it may be said; time that could be spent more usefully in the production of art with greater monetary value, therefore justifying the thousands of pounds spent on obtaining a BA in Fine Art. 

At this point it makes sense to consider societal ideals of ‘The Artist’. Performance practice is often related to conceptual art or the art of ideas; relying heavily on research. However, it might be argued that this notion of the artist as a thinker is unpopular and, amongst the general population, the preferred viewpoint is one whereby the artist is romanticised as a labourer, suffering for hours in a studio, chiseling at stone or perfecting a landscape. This way of working is likely to be widely considered more authentic due to the time and skill level involved in its production being so evident in the outcome.

This leads me on to discussing more directly the performance I will be producing. The task-based work involves two performers or ‘The Artist’ being placed under a number of constraints, limiting their ability to easily complete the given task (to create an entirely black drawing.) The constraints are as follows:

-       ‘The Artist’ may not leave the room until the page is entirely black.

-       ‘The Artist’ may only use provided materials. This will not include any additional tools of application (eg. Paintbrushes); ‘The Artist’ must work with their hands or bodies.

-       ‘The Artist’ may not speak.

-       ‘The Artist’ may not acknowledge the audience; this is a theatrical event.

 One key point to make is that these constraints make the task difficult to complete and the performance is more than likely to last for several hours. This is a playful nod to the notion of ‘a days work’; something that is perhaps popularly considered to be eschewed by artists. The work is a tongue-in-cheek authentication of ‘The Artist’; it both acknowledges and exorcises common paranoia of the performance artist; that their work is seen as easy or lacking in skill and does not take a long time or large amount of hard work to produce.)

These constraints highlight the fact that this is a performance and not an authentic act of art-making; theatrical lighting and Pierrot-esque costumes emphasise this. The idea of ‘performance’ is important as the work addresses perhaps unrealistic ideals of the artist in society. The piece questions authenticity in artistic processes. For example, here unlike in the majority of performance art the objective is to create a stand-alone art object (it is worth noting that this will be clear to the audience due to the simplicity of the task). The fact that the process is being performed challenges the outcome’s status as an authentic work of art. The idea is to create an archetype of artistic practice and of ‘The Artist’ in relation to the romanticised societal views I referred to earlier.

It is essential not to ignore my choice to use two performers rather than one. The intention is to create a motif of ‘The Artist’ and not to refer in any way to identity or the individual. By using two performers, dressed identically, performing exactly the same task, the work seeks to reject individual personalities and art practices and perform a motif of a societal stereotype. Together we are ‘The Artist’, laboring unquestioning, not thinking or conceptualising any new ideas. In this respect the work produced is lacking in emotional integrity giving it a cold and detached presence and again questioning the authenticity of what is produced.

 As I mentioned earlier, the costumes in this work are inspired by tragic Commedia dell’Arte character, Pierrot and in particular the Pierrot of early nineteenth century Parisian, bohemian actor and mime Jean-Gaspard Deburau. Deburau’s Pierrot is driven to the verge of insanity by life’s remorseless denial of his desires. In traditional Commedia scenarios Pierrot relentlessly pursues the beautiful Columbine but is always rejected in favour of the brash, charismatic, acrobatic clown Harlequin. Humour is derided from Pierrot’s continuing pursuit of a futile situation. Like Pierrot, ‘The Artist’ in this work continues in their completion of a thankless task simply because they follow the stated rules of the performance, just as Pierrot’s repeated failed attempts to win the heart of Columbine is dictated by the rules of Commedia scenarios and stock characters.  For Pierrot there is no escape from this moonstruck, heartbroken state, he must continue on his futile quest as, here, ‘The Artist’ must continue to labour despite an unrewarding outcome (a blank sheet; exactly what is begun with.)

Pierrot is a symbol of theatre (we cannot imagine the theatre without Pierrot); he is an icon of performance. Referencing him within the work makes it immediately obvious to the viewer that this is a performed theatrical act and not the authentic process of two young artists. Symbolists saw Pierrot as their lonely fellow sufferer, struggling tragically to secure a place in the bourgeois world. It could be suggested that this work alludes to this wish in its motivation to create an authentic art object.

Pierrot is an outsider, an eternally suffering fool. He has captured the hearts of many including Picasso and Stravinsky as symbolic of the persecution of the artist in humanity. For many Pierrot holds a post-modern status as an archetype of art or ‘The Artist’, relating again to the romantic view of artists as loners and labourers. It is also popular to see both Pierrot and ‘The Artist’ as suffering under the burden of a creative mind. ‘The Artist’ is somebody who, like Pierrot, is continuously let down by the world yet fervently continues in his or her endeavors regardless of their perpetual failure. By performing a difficult task, under the constraints of an idealised popular view of art process, we too suffer in a relentless attempt to complete the performance’s task.

The costumes are entirely white and our bodies and hair will also be painted white. This alludes to the idea of a blank canvas and emphasises the depersonalisation of ‘The Artist’s’ body – we, perhaps, encompass all artists or perform a stereotype of the artist, but yet not a particular artist with a particular identity. Another factor worth noting is that the costumes will also be marked by the materials we are working with; so the costumes themselves will exist later as a remnant of the performance and could possibly be considered a sculptural object. It is possible to question the authenticity of this object as a work of art, considering the intent. The marking of the costumes is a byproduct and not an express motivation of the work; however, it is possible to contend that if the garments are displayed later in an exhibition context, they might become authentic artworks.

 Perhaps a relevant discussion to have in relation to this work is the way in which contemporary culture makes it possible to document and distribute vast archives of life via social media platforms. Never before has it been so straightforward and also so popular to share so much of one’s day-to-day existence. It is therefore logical to suggest that, in modern society, a far greater proportion of human activity could be described as ‘performed’ due to it’s undertaking with the assumption of a later perception by another individual in digital space. Sociologist Irving Goffman maintained that all human interaction is a performance and that we alter our behavior according to who we are interacting with. Goffman’s dramaturgical account refers to William Shakespeare’s As You Like it:

 ‘All the world’s a stage and all these men and women merely players’.

 According to Goffman all behavior that is perceived by another is performed and perhaps, therefore, not authentic. In the case of this performance we are able to relate Goffman’s ideas to the notion of a fraudulent or ‘performed’ art practice. The performance itself will be documented using time-lapse photography and a sound recorder, as well as a live audience that will drift in and out of the space. Using Goffman’s theory we can conclude that no aspect of this art-making process can ever be seen to be truly authentic, as it is constantly being perceived by the gaze of another or, at least, captured by a camera with the intention of it’s later viewing.

 ‘The Artist’ in this performance focuses on process and materials over concepts and ideas. However, as I have drawn much attention to throughout this text as the most important idea encompassed by this work, it is necessary to acknowledge that the art-making in this case is a performed act. This leads me on to refer to Hans Numath’s films of Jackson Pollock working on the production of his ‘Action Paintings’. It is impossible to know if, in the absence of a camera, Pollock would perform his painting process in quite such a physical theatrical style. The Gutai movement, like Pollock, triumphed materials and process over ideas and product. In the Gutai manifesto Jiro Yoshihara talks about the human spirit and the material reaching out their hands to each other. Yoshihara suggests that [in contemporary art practice] ‘under the cloak of intellectual aim, the materials have been completely murdered and can no longer speak to us’. It is this focus on materiality that has drawn me to create black drawings using multiple materials, the performance aims to guide the viewer away from any notion of meaning or symbolism that may be derided from colour, figuration or particular styles of mark-making. It’s important that the viewer of this work is able to focus on the art-making action, and view it as such. It is also important that attention is drawn to the fact that the work is stated to be a ‘performance’. The subject of what is being created should be forgotten. Many Gutai artists created live performances that involved working with materials; this often included the use of certain constraints. This is very much the case in the work of Kazuo Shiraga: an artist who created paintings swinging from a rope above his paper and using his feet to make marks. Shiraga, Yoshihara and the Gutai group believed that this was the most authentic act of art making as it brought them closer to their materials. However, it is definitely possible, and a clear aim of my performance; to challenge the Gutai ideal of authentic art making in consideration of it’s widespread documentation by a camera, or in many cases it’s status as performance rather than painting or other art object. 

In conclusion, this performance artwork will examine the status of the artist in society, using Pierrot and the theatre as an agent. The performers are a motif or a caricature of an idealised artist or artist’s process. It has a playful and mocking tone in its coldness and evasion of easily decipherable meaning or emotional integrity. Put simply; this is the performed act of turning a large sheet of paper from white to black using a variety of drawing materials. If one were to remove the word ‘performed’ from the previous sentence the work would have an entirely different meaning and become more complex. However this work is a performance, and ‘to perform’ is ‘to pretend’ or ‘to act’ and therefore performance is fundamentally unauthentic. So although the work may be able to touch upon many discussions around the subject of authenticity and art process, as well as what it means to be an artist in humanity, it is essentially just the unauthentic action of making an unauthentic work of art.