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#frankly? november cannot come fast enough
melmedarda · 3 days
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Mel Medarda I love you. I miss you
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theninjasanctuary · 10 months
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A weekend spent at home. There is a cold snap on, with snow on the ground, but the weather isn't unpleasant as such, I just didn't feel like going anywhere, and I'm broke. As in, credit card nearly maxxed broke. Because the boyf owes me over 800 € and work owes me a similar amount for travel expenses I've paid for from my own pocket. Payday is only on Thursday... So idk, I assumed I'd be placing a The Ordinary order during the November sale, but who knows. (Side note, it is really annoying they don't keep stuff in your cart, so you cannot just check out once you're ready, you have to remember every fucking thing you wanted in the first place, and look them up one by one in their store with the frankly tiresome and unhelpful UI.)
Anyway. I didn't get anything with the Momox discount code. They have a sobering new feature on your orders page that shows your returns rate, mine is in the green, as in, around 10%, which is supposedly good, but the total number of items bought is... more than I thought. And I am a bit surprised the returns number is so small (I'm pretty sure their math is wrong), and also, I should have returned a lot more of those items, or never bought in the first place. Ehh.
Anyway. Sellpy orders from mid-November have arrived, the nice pair of wool trousers was NWT and up to expectations; the Aquascutum cashmere cardigan arrived with at least a dozen of small to not-so-small moth holes, but since it was cute and the fit was good and the overall quality very nice, I put in the effort to repair every single one of them. And with a bit of pill shaving (very little needed, it's quality, thick cashmere), and a lint rolling, and a wash, it's in fine condition.
Also bought a Maybelline Sky High mascara, because the 2 latest Korean mascaras I've tried have been, let's face it, close to duds, and this one comes in brown and has good reviews, and lo and behold, it gives me swoopy anime lashes. Even if the brush is the size of a goddamn rolling pin compared to the microcaras I've been using for a few years now. I mean, both the duds, Innisfree Skinny Microcara Zero and Skinfood Forest Dining, held curl ok, never clumped or flaked, etc., but the Zero dried out fast and stopped doing anything, and the Forest Dining just had the weirdest coverage formula, it would barely stick and I'd have to brush, brush, brush, brush to get any effect. No wonder I've felt my lashes were meh lately (ever since I tossed the Heroine Make Long & Curl). And with the Maybelline, it takes one stroke to get 95% result. (Reaching the roots without making a mess with the huge-ass brush is the tricky bit.) And it comes off with just micellar water, too. I don't love having to use biphasic eye makeup remover all that much. There's also a thing with the clothes I wear around the house getting mystery oil stains lately, which I thought *might* be the biphasic, with all the vigorous shaking you have to do for it to blend, but am not so sure now. The stains seem to be located consistently on the front of my right thigh, and are on a pair of a) pyjama pants, b) housewear knit joggers, and now, c) on my dressing gown?? Which I'm pretty sure I haven't worn whilst removing eye makeup?? So who the f knows. They don't come off easily, either.
I have been able to get some work done, but not nearly enough, and am, naturally, still quite stressed about it. Did not touch a damn thing over the weekend either. OTL However, I did finalize the bookings for the trip to France in 2 months (hence the close to maxxed credit card... in my defence, it's got a very small limit, I've never had it raised since getting it like 15 years ago because I've got the wits to at least try to be sensible).
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dentalrecordsmusic · 5 years
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Tomorrow Needs You - A Look Back on Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys
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Words by Ari Jindracek
As everybody, their mothers, and their distressed and confused cats probably know by now, My Chemical Romance is alive again and it's not a fever dream. The new era is upon us and fans are seemingly coming out of the woodwork to experience it. We've talked about My Chemical Romance before here at Dental Records, but not as a group who collectively couldn't get tickets to their reunion show before it sold out in under ten minutes. However, I'm not here to talk about the reunion. This November of 2019 is another time of importance in the MCR calendar: the ninth birthday of Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, an album set in California 2019 (by design or not, the exact time and place of the reunion show). I got into MCR because of Danger Days. I have also, in recent months, heard from more people who hate it than I usually do. A few weeks ago, I read a very well written article that I will not name that was all about how good MCR was… until the "embarrassment" that was Danger Days. I started worrying if my favorite album of all time was actually awful and universally hated, and that liking it made me somehow a bad fan. 2019, the year I daydreamed about in 2010, is here. Does Danger Days still hold up?
Long story short: yes.
That doesn’t mean that every song is perfect. It doesn’t even mean that I love it as much as I used to. Frankly, I don’t. I will not say that Danger Days is the best album ever written because that would make me a liar. However, the important things are still the same. “Look Alive, Sunshine” still fills me with a burst of energy and affection, and its transition into “Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)” is still, despite the choppiness of Spotify, smooth and perfect. The poppy repeated chorus of “Na Na Na” may ring a bit asinine now, but the fact that it comes up again later in the album justifies it, and the bridge stolen from the scrapped song “Make Room!!!” (“everybody wants to change the world but no one wants to die, wanna try?”) feels more poignant now than it did when I was fourteen and had no way of changing anything. “Bulletproof Heart” is one of the songs that doesn’t hold up as well as it could have; the bouncy guitar-and-bass riff is fun, to hear and to play (Danger Days contains many of the few songs I can play on my bass guitar), but, apart from joining up with the Killjoy theme of running away from the oppressive city, I never felt a huge amount of affection for it. Talking about “these pigs” and “this world” being on the speaker’s tail--the speaker, in my mind, is very much not Gerard Way--in a world where police brutality has been in and out of the spotlight is strange as an allegory, because in my maturity, I am aware of its reality for many members of my community. The bridge is better than I remember it, though. There’s a hope that mirrors the introductory verse of “Welcome to the Black Parade”: “are you gonna be the one to save us...are you gonna be the one left standing?” While there is a question here, there is also faith in the listener, that, if enough fans listen to the record, someone will be the one left standing.
On the note of hope, I want to spend a lot of time on “SING,” the song that got me into My Chemical Romance, and, if I can be cliche, the first song that saved my life. Musically, my love for it has waned; the only part that I really like anymore is the bridge, which has enough of an anti-corporate, anti-establishment message that it got Glenn Beck of Fox News to call it propaganda, and enough rhythmic and melodic difference from the rest of the song to really grip my interest. However, its message follows beautifully from the bridge of “Bulletproof Heart.” There is a pleading hopefulness in “SING” that had been present in a variety of My Chemical Romance songs since Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, but this is its most obvious, smack-in-the-face incarnation. Will you see what tomorrow brings, be what tomorrow needs? The song positions it as a choice, but as one where the necessary answer is yes, and the “you” is as personal as it is universal. There are two halves to the song’s hope, it seems: tomorrow needs you (so you have to stay alive), and tomorrow needs you (so you have to help make the world a better place). In words I could easily understand, at a time when I sorely needed it, an artist I respected was telling me that I could, and should, make something of myself, for the rest of the world. No wonder I have a savior complex; no wonder I peeled off my adolescent thoughts of suicide and put on a Killjoy mask. Musically, no, “SING” is not My Chemical Romance’s best song, I’ll admit that. I cannot, however, dismiss what it meant and still means to me: that I can and must improve myself and do whatever I can to help the rest of the world, because I am needed.
“Planetary (GO!)” is more bouncy-fun than it is meaningful, at least in my ears. With the spunky bassline and funky ambulance-siren synths, it’s a rave song more than it is a song that makes you change the way you change your life, which means it fulfilled its purpose as My Chemical Romance’s best try for a danceable song. It goes well with the narrative of neon-bright desert outlaws; the fact that the video for “Planetary (GO!)” is just a recut of live footage is a crime because it deserved a Killjoy smash-grab bank robbery narrative to go behind it. “The Only Hope for Me Is You” is, frankly, the most forgettable song on the album, in that, Danger Days superfan though I am, I sometimes forget it exists. It hearkens back to “Skylines and Turnstiles,” the first My Chemical Romance song, in some ways: the mentions of embers, ash, and “people burn[ing] in purifying flame” remind me, at least, of the falling of the Twin Towers that sparked the band’s creation. It does not do nearly as good a job as “Skylines and Turnstiles” if that was what it was trying to do. The theme of hope comes back--obviously, it’s in the title--but in a more romantic way, as in the later “Summertime.” It doesn’t feel like the “you” in this song can be me, like it did in “SING.” The listeners are not Gerard Way’s only hope. The bridge, especially, is weak, as it just repeats the title of the song over a basic build-up-drop-off dynamic structure.
The first “story arc” ends here, and the second, more emotionally intense, arc picks up with “Jet Star and the Kobra Kid / Traffic Report,” where Dr. Death Defying states, barely saddened under his made-up slang, that Ray Toro and Mikey Way’s Killjoy personas have been killed. In the end, a Doppler-effect synth rips into the drums intro to “Party Poison.” The Japanese dialogue over the intro here doesn’t match with anything else from the album, though I do remember live shows from this era starting with similar narration in Japanese (if my memory has failed me, I cite the nine intervening years). “Party Poison” is danceable like “Planetary (GO!)” but with bite behind it-- “this ain’t a party,” Gerard Way sings, “get off the dance floor.” Narratively, two of the people closest to him, one of them being his brother, have died, of course, it’s not a party! I love this song for its head-bopping guitars and the near-egomania of the lyrics. Titular character Party Poison is at a point in his narrative where he’s out of his mind with rage and has fallen into an adolescent sense of invulnerability. In “Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back,” that crashes down with a bitter reprise of the “na na na”s from, of course, “Na Na Na.” The joyous colorful energy from before is gone, replaced with “a heart attack in black hair dye.” I personally think “Save Yourself” is one of My Chemical Romance’s best songs. The lyrics stun me still. There’s hope in it-- “not a victim of the victim’s life” and “we can live forever if you’ve got the time.” There’s barely-concealed fear-- “the good guys die and the bad guys win / who cares?” There’s anger in how, during the bridge, Gerard Way’s terse vocals become screams. It’s a mess of emotion and it’s amazing. 
Which makes it disappointing that it's followed by "S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W" and "Summertime,” which I thought, even at the time when I was creepily obsessed with Danger Days, were two of the weakest tracks. I can barely tell what kind of genre "S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W" is trying to emulate. The instrumentals (aside from the bridge) are far too simple for a band with the highly skilled Toro in its corner, there's more chorus than there is verse, and the lyrics read like a nonsensical nursery rhyme. However, I don't think "S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W" is the weakest song on the album because of how well it fits into the narrative; it's a goodbye-be-safe for the girl who features in the music videos as her guardians run off on a suicide mission. "Summertime,” in contrast, doesn't fit that narrative. It's Gerard Way's spunky, synthed-up version of the classic love song, obviously written to his wife, who he exchanged messages with by writing cryptic messages on his skin--"you can write it on your arm,” anyone? It's cute; the saccharine love is obvious, the solo gets its due time, and the bassline is fun. I like what the song is about more than I like, well, the song. I'm glad it exists, but although I'd never do so now, I used to actually skip past it in my iPod Classic days. I grew into "Summertime" when I got my first boyfriend, but as a My Chemical Romance song, it feels much too generic. "DESTROYA" pops the bubblegum idyll from its first few notes: something, represented by the drums, has come crawling up into the narrative of fun, and it's howling mad. The song is named after the robot god of the comic adaptation, but in the fandom at the time, many, myself included, assumed that Destroya was some sort of horrific, destructive force, based exclusively on the song. The fast pace of the rhythm and the vocals is furious. The verses scream out sickness and the main chorus spits the disillusionment from "Save Yourself" anew, culminating in the bridge, where "luck" and "love,” "us" and "you" are doubled on top of each other, the only constants God and The Enemy. "If what you are is just what you own / what have you become when they take from you / almost everything?" is simply put but absolutely rips through me sometimes, usually when I'm already in the throes of an identity crisis. The song feels like it's about to tear itself in half. Strange but fitting, then, that it segues into what would be, for nine years, My Chemical Romance's final credits. 
I didn't get what "Kids From Yesterday" meant in 2010, but "this could be the last of all the rides we take" is, in retrospect, as subtle as a brick to the eye (I remember reading people theorizing that this could, in fact, be the last of My Chemical Romance’s albums on the MCRmy forums in 2010 or 2011 -- we all laughed it off). Acclaimed by several of the band members as among their favorite songs, “Kids From Yesterday” isn’t necessarily my cup of tea, but I can see why people love it so much. The rhythm is steady and easy, with the synths and guitars floating over it like puffy clouds over the sprawling desert, and the vocals soar even above that; it’s a song you pan out for. The lyrics, beyond the obvious farewells, are easy to pick out and easy to like. “You only hear the music when your heart begins to break” meant something indescribable to me in my teens, and I routinely wore one of those slim rubbery bracelets with the lyric on it. “Does the television make you feel the pills you ate / or every person that you need to be?” wraps up the themes of Danger Days neatly--the Better Living Industries medication and the necessity of being someone for somebody. “Goodnight, Dr. Death” wraps up the actual narrative by taking the one speaking character from the Killjoy universe and pulling him off the air with one last message and a glitched-out version of the national anthem (again: how did we miss that?). The final song of My Chemical Romance’s final full, complete album, “Vampire Money,” is a middle finger to the Twilight movies, a break from the Killjoy personas--the band members speak under their own names, no more pseudonyms--and a high-power, over-caffeinated, airport-bar-fight beat with a shrieking guitar solo, pointed pop cultural references, and a breakdown like someone actually broke the drum kit. If a song makes you want to simultaneously dance on the street and light up Molotov cocktails, it’s a good song. At the end of an era, it’s a good song, and the clatter at the end a fitting way to go out: with a bang, or a series of them. I don’t know if My Chemical Romance knew, at the time, that this would be the last album they would record--possibly ever, if the reunion does not come with a new album. If they did, hey, they picked a good song to play during the final straightaway.
Besides the messages of hope and fun, my favorite thing about Danger Days was the story. My Chemical Romance is a band of concept albums, and if you use the music videos for “Na Na Na” and “SING” as jumping-off points, the concept of Danger Days is the easiest to follow--no wonder, since it was based on a comic Gerard Way wanted to, and later did, write. Before the comic came out, though, it was still a great source of creativity for me. The world of the Killjoys was just fleshed out enough to give me, and others like me, a starting point to build the world on our own, but just bare-bones enough to give its fans room to add to the story however we wanted. I have written things on and off since I was about six, but once I started working within the Danger Days universe, supplementing the canon story with my own characters and ideas, I feel as though I became a writer. About half of the characters I work with today were originally Killjoys or Draculoids. I believe that Danger Days specifically stimulated the creative process as well, because the meta-text to the album was all about creativity. The slogans “art is the weapon against life as a symptom” and “would you destroy something perfect to make it beautiful?” were and still are influential in how I feel about the importance of artistic expression in the world. I was in a bad place when I first heard Danger Days; the hopefulness gave me a glimpse of better feelings, and the encouragement to create gave me a method to get the feelings I was having out of my head.
When I was fourteen, when Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys came out, I would daydream about what life would be like in 2019. It got me through a lot of bumps in my life, cliche as it is. I am glad that I am able to look back on it, in 2019, and see it past the fog of nostalgia, and still love it, even though I can tell that the legs it stands on are somewhat wobblier than I remember. Is it a perfect album? No. I’m not going to make that decision. However, it’s not an embarrassment, and it doesn’t deserve the hate it gets just because it’s more colorful than the rest of the My Chemical Romance canon. I truly think that the real beauty of Danger Days doesn’t necessarily lie in every song individually but in the narrative as a whole and in its message: be loud and angry when faced with injustice, be loud and joyous when faced with love, and, most importantly, be loudly yourself as you face down a future that needs, specifically, you.
Please direct all tweets about how much “SING” means to you to Ari Jindracek on Twitter. Please direct all tweets about how much “SING” sucks to anybody else.
Follow DRM on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
Subscribe to the DRM YouTube channel.
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wewillwriteyou · 5 years
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Crazy Little Thing Called Love || Chapter 5
A few elements from the main plot: A fine line falls between fiction and reality: what starts as a musical slowly becomes a game-changer. Tables will turn and it will get clear as the sun that the only unstoppable power in life … is love.
Summary Chapter 5:  Boundaries between real life and fantasy are getting more blurred by the minute: Elizabeth and Gwilym know something about it. Who could have imagined that rehearsing a simple dance choreography on stage would have caused so many mixed emotions? Especially, when jealousy works harder than reason.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: ‘Angst is in the air’, but apart from that and a terrible rollercoaster of emotions this chapter is safe territory for everyone. 
A/N: Don’t miss this chapter, folks, because some little events that happen in this one will change the whole dynamics between the characters. Enjoy and ... get ready for the drama. It’s coming 😏🧚🏻‍♀️ 
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Tuesday, 12 November 2019
“When at home air smells like betrayal,” sentenced the Sorcerer “even the strongest give in at the weakness of the heart”
“Alright people, let’s try this again” Denise shouted from her seat in the first row of the auditorium.
At her call, all the actors on stage took their places on the little white ‘x’s that marked their spot at the beginning of the scene.
Denise smiled knowing Joe would have been very pleased once the whole act was completed. He had left her on watch that morning since he needed to go into town to pick up some mail and a few more things for the stage.
She had been sceptical when Joe had offered her to co-direct the musical but as days went by, she had come to even enjoy her work behind the scenes. She hated to admit that Joe was right, but she did love being part of the production.
“Didi, should we do the dance sequence as well?” Elizabeth appeared on her left and made her jump for the surprise.
“Uhm… yeah, sure if you want” she said “Just give me ten mins to see if this works and the stage is yours”
Elizabeth smiled and walked back to her seat a few rows back, next to Gwilym and Rami.
“What’d she say?” the latter asked.
“She said it’s okay” the girl untied her ponytail and braided her hair on her shoulder, “I think we should try both scenes…”
“Both?” Gwilym asked, startled “Our sequence isn’t even finished yet…”
The redhead stopped for a moment then shook her head. “It’s been a week since we last rehearsed… it’s not gonna hurt to practice the scene and the dance sequence altogether…”
Gwilym was definitely sceptical and frankly quite nervous to show the whole auditorium how he still could not dance. It didn’t matter what Liz thought or said: he still felt like the least graceful dancer of all time. He was quite sure Liz had only always been gentle with him just cause she was Liz. She was way too polite to hurt his feelings, but he never believed she meant what she said.
He felt like he had only gotten the part because he was Joe’s roommate and best friend. And he could almost hear the whispers of the rest of the cast wondering why the hell he’d been cast in the first place.
However, he couldn’t seem to be strong enough to let go of the musical. There would have been still time to find someone new, better than him for the part. But he inexplicably held on to the role, ignoring the voices in his head.
What’s so important that is keeping you here? he thought to himself and as if the universe wanted to give him an answer he felt someone calling him.
“Liz to Gwil – the redhead was waving a hand in front of his face – you there?”
“Uhm? Yeah,” he shook the thought from his head. You’re delusional, Gwil.
“I asked you if it was okay that Rami and I went first” Elizabeth repeated, wondering why he seemed so distant. Had she said something to upset him?
Gwilym nodded “Sure, it’ll give me time to read the script again”
Elizabeth smiled and got up to head to the stage, soon followed by Rami, not before he’d turned towards him and winked, “Don’t worry man, you’ll be great”.
Gwilym just smiled and let his gaze wander around the auditorium. Elizabeth had already sat next to Denise and they seemed to be quietly chitchatting.
Are you sure there isn’t another reason why you’re avoiding the dance sequence with her? his inner voice could not hold back anymore. You cannot tell me you didn’t feel your heart beat faster when she showed you the steps the first time.
Gwilym sighed and watched in her direction one more time. Elizabeth was already on stage, setting up the props for the scene. He got up as well and without thinking about it sat beside Denise in the second row.
“Oh, so you do exist. I thought you were just the phantom of the opera, who spies rehearsals from a corner and tries to scare actors away…”
Gwil chuckled “It’s just my turn soon”
“Sure. Whatever you say, phantom” Denise shrugged, glancing at him on her side and catching him with an embarrassed smile on his face.
As he watched her act that small scene with Rami that was supposed to be one of the first scenes of the musical, he realised maybe for the first time how natural it came to her.
It was not Elizabeth on stage, it was Princess Hyv.
She always joked – sometimes actually complained – how Joe’s play had taken over her life, but watching her on stage, acting, dancing and singing a few verses, he realised how much she was having fun.
He knew her to well not to recognise the smile she tried to hide every time she felt like nailing the scene.
It wasn’t the first time he’d stopped to look at her, wondering if his eyes were fooling him and the fluttering of his heart was only coincidental.
He’d had a crush on Lucy for like a year and knew very well the feeling of being around her and feeling his stomach tingle with butterflies.
But with Elizabeth it’s different. As he thought that, he admitted to himself for the first time that there was something else between them, beside friendship.
Yet, aside from a few glances and some awkward smiling, he couldn’t figure out whether she felt it too.
When the scene ended and Elizabeth turned to Denise, and he noticed how her eyes sparkling with joy, their gazes met for a brief fraction of a second and he could swear he’d felt his heart flutter.
Not a good sign, mate.
Denise got straight up and started applauding, as well as the dozen people in the otherwise empty auditorium.
Elizabeth giggled and took a deep bow, before taking Rami’s hand and repeating the gesture. They both chuckled as they walked down the steps of the stage, visible excitement in their eyes.
“Liz, oh my God! – Denise cheered – you guys were amazing!”
“Thanks, Didi” Liz hugged her tight before turning to Gwil, who was still sitting in second row, hands fidgeting in his lap.
“I’m ready when you are”, Liz smiled to him and he felt his heart definitely flutter. Again.
Twice in less than a minute. Not a good sign, mate.
How was he supposed to act and dance with her in front of the rest of the cast when he was not sure he could have held it together?
“Gwil – Liz awoke him from his thoughts – are you okay? You’re on another planet today…”
“I’m fine. – he gave the three pairs of eyes staring at him a small smile – I’m ready”
Liz nodded, not quite convinced but too into her own thoughts to wonder about it. The adrenaline of perfectly handling the scene with Rami was still running through her veins but she was terribly worried how Gwil would have had an effect on it.
Every time they rehearsed together she could feel her heart speeding and slowing at irregular rates.
Besides, this was no regular scene. It was the scene their characters met for the very first time.
Their characters were written as to they would fall in love by accident, by mistake, and Elizabeth felt like laughing at the irony.
Could it be that she was falling for him because of their characters? After all, everything had been fine before they started rehearsing…
Was she falling for Gwilym or for Hymy?
Gwilym was such a good actor that every time they read lines, she could see that he completely disappeared into his character and he became the gardener of the castle, the only person who understood the princess’ urge to escape from a set up marriage.
She was completely smitten by everything he said when they were on stage, like she was bewitched by his voice.
They got up on stage, both with the head full of thoughts, without the faintest idea how similar their minds were as they took their places and got ready to start the scene.
Elizabeth turned around, tying the long skirt around her waist – her character was in fact supposed to have a long dress in that scene.
Breathe in. Breath out., she repeated to herself.
“Has the sky always been so blue? – she started – Has the palace always been this splendid?”
Gwilym knelt on the ground, pretending to be planting flowers.
“Is princess alright?”
She swiftly turned, stumbling on her feet “I am not quite sure, sir – she stumbled again – My head is spinning so fast but the world seems suddenly so bright and its colours so vivid”
She brought the back of her hand to her forehead and smiled absently, letting herself fall backwards.
But before she could hit the ground, Gwilym caught her in his arms and smiled.
She returned his smile and a sparkle flew between them.
That was supposed to be the moment their characters fell in love. The potion had kicked in and cast the spell. The magic was done.
“Miss, you ought not to be out here in your situation. May I take you to your rooms?”
“What? No! – Elizabeth said, acting indignant of his suggestion – No, I want to see the world! Today seems so beautiful and new!”
She jumped right up and started running around the stage, as the music began to tune in the background. He was following her right after, checking she didn’t fall or faint like she just had.
“Why are you following me?” she asked.
“I don’t know – he chuckled – I cannot help it. It’s stronger than me”
She chuckled as well and started pirouetting all around the set up garden. The music started to fill the air and gradually their running around turned into dancing.
Elizabeth started spinning around and hiding behind panels that meant to be columns and fountains in the palace’s garden. Gwilym was right behind her, sliding gracefully as to mimic a game of hide and seek.
Suddenly he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer and making her gyrate in front of him. The smiles on their faces were anything but pretend-smiles and Elizabeth thought they were close as ever.
For the final step, he extended his arm out and she pirouetted away from him far enough to be pulled closer right back.
Elizabeth completed her last spin by bumping into Gwilym’s chest and almost making him fall. He grabbed her by the shoulders and managed to hold them both.
She mouthed a thank you, momentarily sliding out of character, and smiled looking up to him. She realised she was closer to his face than she’d ever been and thought how blue his eyes looked under the floodlight of the stage.
As he stared into her eyes, the only thought roaming around in his head was how much he wanted to kiss her. Her face was so close he could basically feel her breath on his nose. He hoped time stopped so he could consider that decision, but his muscles acted faster than his brain and all he knew a second later was that his lips were on hers.
***
“Sorry, I’m late!” Alex’s footsteps could be heard down the hall, meaning she was running upstairs as fast as she could.
Joe rolled his eyes and snorted “I’m having a deja-vu…”
Before she even turned the corner, he could already hear her voice telling him were to go. And he was not mistaken.
“I was finishing the paper sheet for the song in act two, you moron” she hit him on the shoulder and Joe chuckled.
“Just kidding, you know how much I appreciate your contribution” he blew her a kiss and it was her turn to roll her eyes.
“So, why are you not in there directing, Mr. Director?” Alex questioned as they proceeded down the corridor.
Joe chuckled “I went to the tailor to pick up the costumes but apparently I drove up there for nothing cause they won’t be ready for another week at least…”
They reached the end of the corridor and Joe let Alex walk ahead of him as they began climbing the last flight of stairs.
“Thing is, I’m always everywhere but in the auditorium and I really wish I didn’t have to do all the errands by myself…”
“I can help you with that, if you want – Alex offered, turning her head to politely smile to him - Just tell me the day and I’ll pick the costumes up for you”
Joe sighed and smiled “You are a doll, Alexandra, I’m telling you”
Alex turned again and winked “I know”
As they turned the corner heading to the main door of the auditorium, they heard chattering and when Joe heard Alex muttering something that sounded like ‘shit’, he grinned, cause he knew exactly who the chattering belonged to.
“Hey guys – Joe greeted Ben and Allen, caught in some chat of theirs about the imminent canoeing race – what are up to?”
Allen smiled widely and wily glanced at Ben before answering “Well, I heard a rumour that my good friend Benjamin was rehearsing today so I figured, why not?”
Ben stared at him with dead eyes but a grin on his face “You better be joking or I’ll throw you out that bloody window…”
They laughed at his threaten and Joe noticed Allen glancing at Alex. What the hell is going on here?
As he thought that, Allen turned to the girl “It’s a pleasure seeing you again, Alex”
She smiled and glanced sideways at Ben, who was staring right at her. Joe saw her straightening her posture and taking a step closer to Allen, as if something had crossed her mind.
“Good to see you too, Allen. If we don’t stop meeting like this, I’ll think you’re following me” she chuckled and he followed right after, while the other two boys looked at each other confused.
Allen smirked, “Well if you want we can stop meeting by chance and, say, meet at Costa’s tomorrow morning for coffee?”
Joe raised his eyebrows. What the heck? He glanced at Ben and could have sworn he’d felt his gaze burning Allen’s jacket. He giggled too himself. Why are those two so obvious and yet still too big-headed to let the other closer?
“I’d love to” Alex smiled, to Joe’s – and Ben’s – surprise.
Joe decided he’d had enough of that game and walked across the love triangle.
“Alright guys, I’m sorry but I gotta get to work” he walked up to the main doors of the auditorium and pulled them open, letting the others enter behind him.
He recognised the music right away and felt his muscles tense up. Hyv and Hymy’s first scene together, the moment they fall in love.
After that night at the pub almost a month before, Joe had tried to eat his feelings and store down everything he thought he felt for Elizabeth, but he knew perfectly well that that situation was eating him alive instead.
He was the one who’d cast them to be lovers and he hated himself for that choice. Well not hated hated himself. But he kept thinking if he’d never cast them, that whole situation would have never been a problem.
He’d always suspected one of the trio would have developed feelings for someone else inside the trio; he’d never thought it’d be him.
As his mind reminded him what a poor choice he’d made, he pushed the doors open and the scene before his eyes left him frozen on the spot.
Elizabeth and Gwilym were kissing. At the hem of the stage.
He was definitely not ready to face such a scene.
He felt blood pumping in his head and for a firm half minute his mind clouded, leaving him sad, angry and confused walking down the aisle-way.
“What the fu-” he muttered, before beginning to march faster towards the stage and raising his voice “CUUUT!! CUT CUT CUT!” he yelled.
Elizabeth jumped on her feet and abruptly broke the kiss, stepping backwards and trying understanding what was happening around her.
“What the hell, Joe?! - Denise yelled back at him – what’s the matter with you?”
“THAT – he pointed at the couple on stage – is not meant to happen till the second act. SECOND!”
“Chill out, mate – Malcolm stood up from his seat and walked up to him – they did a fantastic rehearsal and I think that kiss is the cherry on top of this scene”
He patted him on the shoulder and walked away, before he could be reached by Joe’s deadly look.
“Malcolm's right – Denise jumped in – I think you should consider moving that first kiss here. It just makes sense…”
Joe looked up to his best friends up on stage and let his arms fall down.
“I’m sorry everyone” Joe started. He sighed, his hand scraping the back of his head nervously “Look, there’s a lot of things going on right now and I’m sorry I lost it…”
Liz and Gwilym were still staring at him like two deer caught in the flashlight of a car. It was clear they hadn’t registered what had just happened either and, maybe for the first time, he actually didn’t know how to talk to his best friends.
He couldn’t stand their gazes any longer and the fact that neither of them had said a thing was killing him.
“We’ll… uhm… we’ll discuss this next time, guys. I’m sorry I need to go…” he looked away and turned his back and without another word, walked back the way he came.
“Are you okay, Joe?” Alex placed a hand on his arm enough for him to slightly turn in her direction.
He gave her a small smile “I’m fine, just need to be somewhere right now…”
“Joey, wait!” Elizabeth spoke up at last, picking up her long gown and jumping down the stage to run after him.
“Please, don’t call me Joey, Elizabeth” he abruptly replied without stopping.
“We need to talk-” she walked faster so she could grab his arm but he was quick to shake off her grip and turn to look at her.
“Elizabeth, would you let me go?! – he realised he was being a tad more dramatic than he’d thought, but anger had taken over his mind. No, not anger. Sadness. – We’ll talk later.”
And with that said, he walked out of the auditorium and disappeared in the corridor.
For a few seconds the auditorium stood still, in complete silence.
The drama had only just begun.
***
Elizabeth was walking up and down her room so fast, she thought she’d consume her soles. Her hand fidgeting and picking the cuticles was not helping calm down her nerves.
‘What now?’ was the only question her mind could elaborate.
After Joe had come in the auditorium, caused a scene and stormed out, rehearsal had been just weird. It seemed like everyone in there was wondering what the hell was going on between the three of them. And, frankly, Elizabeth was wondering the same thing.
What happened to us?
At the beginning of the semester everything was working out just fine and where were they now?
She’d never forget the look Joe had given her before rushing out of the room. He looked appalled. Mortified. Sad, even. But the thing that bugged her the most was that he’d called her ‘Elizabeth’. The two of them had an unstated agreement that they’d be calling themselves by full name only when one of them had screwed up.
She stopped and crashed on the bed with a loud sigh, her hands joined on her forehead to cover her eyes.
The worst thing is I have an idea about why he’s mad at me, she thought to herself.
As much as she would have wanted to forget that whole thing, her mind kept on replaying the last few seconds of the scene with Gwilym.
When they were inches from each other, she remembered asking herself whether it was a good idea to get even closer. No it wasn’t a good idea, you moron.
Though, she hadn’t had much time to think and before she knew it, Gwil’s lips were pressed against hers.
She realised she had a lot of expectation on that kiss and when it’d happened it was… different. Not in a bad way, but not even in the best way. She still needed to make up her mind about that feeling.
A knock on the door made her jump on the bed.
“I’m coming, Alex, just let me get my keys” she fumbled in her purse.
“Ehm… it’s not Alex”
Elizabeth froze on the spot. Gwilym.
“Oh… well… let me get this-” she tucked the key in the door and pulled it open. Gwilym was leaning on the door frame, a small apologetic smile on his face.
“Hi,” she smiled lightly and moved from the entrance “Come on in.”
He awkwardly smiled, “I’m sorry to bother you right now… it’s just… I didn’t know who to talk to…”
Elizabeth sat on her bed and clumsily gestured him to do the same.
“Don’t worry – she smiled as he sat down – ‘twas pretty bonkers before, huh?”
She didn’t mean to bring that up so soon, but who was she kidding? That was the only topic worth talking about.
Gwilym giggled and shifted on the mattress “I’d say that, yeah…”
He glanced at her and there was her heart pounding again in her chest.
“Look, - he started – if that kiss made things weird, let’s please just forget the whole thing, alright?”
Elizabeth looked down to her hands “I didn’t think it was weird – she answered with a low voice – until I heard Joe shouting. Then I thought he was weird…”
Gwilym chuckled and she smiled, happy she could at least break some tension.
“Why’d you think he’s so mad at us?” he asked.
“He’s mad at me, not us…” she corrected him, before wiping some loose hair from her forehead and sighing.
“I think I’ve known Joe long enough to say that that reaction means he felt betrayed… - she looked at him, but Gwil was looking down – I think that seeing what he saw he felt like we were betraying him and cutting him out of the trio…”
“Well, what are we supposed to do, ask him to join?” Gwil burst out, making Liz chuckle.
“That’s not what I meant, doofus – she bumped her shoulder against his arm – I think maybe he would have wanted us to talk to him first”
“And ask for permission? Who is he, the godfather?”
“Would you stop? I’m trying to have a serious conversation…” she said between laughter.
“Sorry sorry – he bumped her back and turned to look at her – I think you may be right…”
Elizabeth nodded and looked away to her hands again.
“So, - Gwilym began again – about that kiss… did it mean anything for you?”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrow “Boy, you go straight to the point, huh?”
Gwil chuckled “Sorry, it’s just who I am… - he stopped to see if she’d had any reaction to his question and all he could see was some redness on her cheeks. He smiled – If it helps, it meant something for me…”
Elizabeth turned her head to him and this time he was staring back. She smiled, “Me too” she just replied.
She caught his gaze wandering from her eyes to her lips and then again to her eyes, his mouth curving in a small smirk.
Elizabeth realised she was relentlessly inching toward him, as his hand slowly crawled to her knee.
“Last time we were this close it didn’t go so well…” she whispered.
“Well, there was an audience staring at us…” he whispered back, making her lightly chuckle.
“Ehm, Gwil? – her mouth was completely dry as she tried to articulate a sentence – We should, ehm… probably talk to Joe first…”
“Mmh… - Gwilym seemed to agree – soon”
“Yeah. Soon,” she breathed before getting an inch closer and sealing the distance between their lips.
-
Chapters: ⬸ previous | next ⤑
A/N: Hello folks! We know you’re shocked: the ending is pretty unexpected. Or, at least, we hope you liked it! Let us know what y’all think about this chapter!
Enjoy!
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hanalwayssolo · 6 years
Text
I open at the close.
In some astrological lore, Saturn returns every 27 to 29 years or so to the same place in the sky the moment you were born—a cycle called Saturn Return—which, they say, marks a time when one gets a nudge towards a new stage in adulthood. A cosmic rite of passage of sorts, if you will. 
I’ve never been a firm believer of these things, but I found the concept to be intriguing. And mildly alarming. Because it is 2018 and this year, I turned 27. Not only did I get a nudge, but I was shoved right out of my comfort zone, catapulted straight into the heart of the most difficult year I’ve ever had the displeasure (and pleasure) to live.
It should be important to note that I’m never one to fully share the detailed account of my personal life. If I had been more brazen, I would have opted to post this on my main—but then I remember how that space is strictly curated for work, so here I am. Anyway. If you’ve ever read any of the things I’ve written thus far, best believe some of the stories I’ve shared are blatantly punched right out of my heart. Writing my experiences under the cover of fiction is what I do best; a form of cathartic release and a tourniquet for the pain. This time, however, I want to grant myself a moment to chronicle what this year felt like at its rawest. 
Let me start at the beginning of the end.
It is April, and after months of happily journeying from one city to the next, I am now quietly crying in front of the Colosseum. 
I wish I could tell the handsome stranger staring at me that I’m crying out of sheer joy of being in Rome, or how I’m just genuinely in awe of the architecture and other bullshit that will excuse the irrationality of my tears. 
But no, I’m crying because I just got a call from my boss—my last remaining moral compass at work—that she has decided to leave the firm. I know if I say that to anyone, I’ll sound completely pathetic. But I guess if I have to drill down every single reason why I’m crying, it’s because right then and there, in front of the Colosseum, I’m starting to realize that the only reason why I stayed in my job was because of my boss, and how she made it so bearable despite the misogynist and sexist behaviour of the people around us. I’m crying because it’s dawning on me how much I hated my job, that every single time before a presentation or meeting with the male seniors, I had to go to the bathroom to stop myself from crying out of rage; that at some point, I had spent hours thinking of ways I could kill myself, and I would emerge from the stall pretending I was okay. I was so good at pretending that I’m okay. Besides, in this economy, I should value that ability when I cannot afford to see a therapist. So yes, fuck me that I’m crying in this beautiful morning in front of the Colosseum, because I am spiraling and my mind has completely lost its brakes.
Because for more than five years, I had this routine: work, try not to kill self, sleep, repeat. I stayed in my job out of practicality and financial stability. I needed to make a living. But the sad thing about it is, I ended up not quite living. I was not living my life—life was living me.
It is April, and I draft my resignation letter on the plane en route to Manila. I have decided to finally leave my job to pursue my passions. My last few weeks in London, I have spent thinking of all the different permutations on how my decision would play out. I keep asking myself: if I stayed at this job at the cost of my mental health, is it worth it? How many times do I have to wake up every single morning contemplating on the possibility of death? I weighed in the pros, cons, checked the privileges available at my disposal. In the end, I stick to my gut.
To some degree, some may find this romantic, a coming-of-age act of defiance, sure—but it all honesty, it really isn’t. The act in and of itself is an upheaval of everything I have come to know for the past five years. I have to shed parts of myself that I thought I needed, have to rebuild myself from the rubble of my own undoing. From a girl who prided herself with having an exit strategy, I became the girl who was about to jump off the cliff with no safety net. 
I no longer recognize what I have become, that I felt completely, utterly lost.
It is July, and it has been a month without my usual corporate routine. My freelancing stints have somehow helped me get back bit by bit to things that I have always loved doing. Frankly, I have never felt so liberated in my life.
But still, the demons in my head beg to differ. I should not get used to this comfort. Life never gave me nice things without asking for anything in return. I know I shouldn’t listen to them, but as it turns out, soon enough, I will know that they are right.
Fast track to November, and I have to note how grateful I am for having my family as my support system. Eventually, I finally land an offer for a full time post on a role that I find quite promising. It is wonderful, and I feel like I’m getting back on some sense of normalcy. I submit my requirements, comply with the pre-employment medical tests.
Except my medical results came back with one interesting find. A mass on my left breast. A category 3, probably benign, should be no big deal. But the doctor then tells me that we need to have this monitored for a period of six months. If anything changes, we have to consider surgery. 
You know how scenes in those movies play out whenever they find out some bad news? How time slows down, every sound turns to static? It happened just like that. I was staring at my mammogram results. My doctor was still staying something but I can barely register a word. A large part of me wants to treat this with a huge bucket of hope and positivity. I can brave through this. I know I can.
But then, there’s part of me, the one responsible for governing the deepest pits of my depression, that one voice I have not entertained ever since I left my job, is a sharp thought in passing: At least this way, you don’t have to kill yourself. Life is going to do it for you.
See? I guess in a way, the gremlins in the back of my head knew one thing right.
It is November, and I cry on my way back home.
It is December. My best friend and I go out of town over the weekend. “You know, 2018 is such a fucked up year, so let’s make the most out of it,” she tells me as we sit together in the cramped van taking us to the mountains. “Fucked up is an understatement,” I tell her, and we both laugh. She knows everything about me; we have been inseparable since we were both in kindergarten, and when I told her about my diagnosis, she just gave me a firm look and said, “I need you to have hope, more than ever. I won’t let you not fight this.” 
And it’s people like her in my life that I find myself grateful. Her and my family and the small circle of close friends that help me soldier on despite how fragile my mental state could get, and for going through this ordeal with me with an outpouring of love and support. Where I come from, mental health is still a stilted discussion that needs more encouragement, and I find myself fortunate that my family has not shied away in opening themselves to that conversation—regardless of how difficult it could be.
So, yes. It is December, and 2018 crushed me so beautifully. But broken as I may be, somewhere in the cracks, I find gratefulness and kindness. Because in this brokenness, there is more space for me to give love. There is more room for me to grow.
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pandoramsbox · 6 years
Text
Game for Gaming: Lost Sphear
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Game: Lost Sphear (Tokyo RPG Factory and Square-Enix; Nintendo Switch, PlayStation 4, Microsoft Windows; 2018)
System: Nintendo Switch
Why this game?
Were I to make a list of my all time favorite video games, Square Enix, or as it was previously know Square or Squaresoft, turn based, Japanese role playing games (JRPGs) from the SNES era would factor heavily; namely, “Final Fantasy VI” (or III, in its original US SNES release), “Chrono Trigger,” and “Secret of Mana.” Not surprisingly, when I saw a trailer for the 2017 Switch release of Tokyo RPG Factory and Square-Enix’s homage to this era of gaming, “I Am Setsuna”, I wanted to play it.
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Nostalgia definitely clouds my comparison of “I Am Setsuna” to “Chrono Trigger,” the game it most closely resembles in terms of battle and equipment system. Beautiful graphics and music, interesting story and engaging gameplay make “I Am Setsuna” a fine turn based JRPG in the mold of the games that inspired it. "I Am Setsuna” is not one of my favorite games ever, but I enjoyed playing it, would play it again, and do recommend it. As soon as I finished it, or neared finishing it, I wondered if Tokyo RPG Factory was going to come out with a follow up, and as fate would have it they did, and it was about to come out: “Lost Sphear.”
When “Lost Sphear” was released in North American in January of last year though, I didn’t rush out to get it or play it. The reason was two fold: my (still relatively new at the time) job was extremely busy and gaming wise I was completely transfixed by “Fire Emblem Warriors.” “Why spend money on a game I wasn’t going to sit down and play?” I figured. Then come November, and a sale, it made sense to buy it so I had it when I was ready to play it... Then I promptly became obsessed with “Tetris Effect.”
Like many working adults, I have found that finding time to play story heavy games is hard. As a result, I am more apt to favor games that are more action, less talking.
So my first game in this series was a game that I had never given a fair play to, thus I decided to follow it up with a game I wanted to play, but had wound up forgotten in my backlog.
My playtime: approximately 5 hours:
With RPGs, or any games that were cut scene or tutorial heavy, I knew I would need to give the game at least 3 hours. I got into “Lost Sphear” to the point where I gave it closer to 5.
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The game opens with a cut scene/plot battle in the ancient past, which turns out to be the reoccurring dream of the protagonist, Kanata. From there, in the grand tradition of most RPGs and fantasy stories, you round up the characters that will make up your starting adventuring party. Sword using Kanata is joined by pugilist Lumina and sniper Locke. The 3 teenage friends are orphans being raised by the village elder, and part of their chores includes defending the town from encroaching monsters and fishing.
After some expository dialogue, getting the sense of the town, and getting a combat tutorial, the party leaves the village on its first mini mission, to go catch a fish. However, when they return, they discover a white void has absorbed and erased their home, along with anyone who was there.
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As they attempt to make sense of what happened, they are joined by a mysterious, Goth guy in a long coat whom goes by “Van,” and fights with beam shooting knives. Together they go find shelter for the night at a cabin in the mountains, and while they sleep Kanata has an info dump dream that breaks down the core plot of the game: to recapture what has been “lost” with the power of memories.
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Thus the party has to go around and collect memories, which Kanata has the power to manifest into stones/compacted mass/crystals and use to recover the places, people and things that have been lost to the white void.
After saving the village and getting recruited by a representative from the empire to help combat this phenomenon, which is causing havoc throughout the world, Kanata and comrades discover additional nuances to his powers, including the ability to create new things that give boosts in combat.
I played far enough to discover that the game mechanics of collecting ingredients to make food, which also give combat boosts, and magic/special abilities being contingent upon equipping items called spritnite, were carried over from “I Am Setsuna.”
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So “Lost Sphear” had a limited learning curve for me, and I was able to spend more time enjoying than mastering new game mechanics. Even if I had not played “I Am Setsuna,” like most games of recent generation, the game is good about succinctly providing tutorials on game mechanics. However, at the point I stopped playing, before writing this post, I had only barely unlocked, thus barely begun to understand, the magical, steam punky vector suits, which are unique to this game.
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Conclusions:
Obviously, I like “Lost Sphear,” and will be playing more of it, if I put in more time than what I deemed the minimum requirement to write a post on it. However, as engaged and pleased as I am with it, in the time I played it, I cannot see it overtaking “I Am Setsuna,” or the 1990s SquareSoft SNES games, in my esteem in terms of dialogue, and possibly characters, for me. 
The dialogue is simplistic and repetitive. Even keeping in mind that the reading level should be written so as to be accessible to a wide audience, and the fact that it was translated to English from Japanese, the dialogue still comes across as weak relative to other JRPGs I’ve played, including “I Am Setsuna.” It is not simplistically bad in the fun way, like the famous “spoony bard” line from the first English translation of “Final Fantasy IV” (or II, in its original US SNES release). However, the game gives you the option of rewinding or fast forwarding dialogue, which is pretty useful and something that would have been really handy in the preceding games that inspired this one.
Still, slogging through the info dumps on what the game defines as memories and what they do is both tedious and simiotically draining.
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In terms of the characters, they’re stock archetypes, and that’s not necessarily bad. Kanata is the pure hearted hero. Lumina is the, at times temperamental, big sister. Locke is the precocious kid who shoots his mouth off, and hates being called out on his inexperience and shortcomings. Van is the blunt expert with a secret. The personality dynamic in the group is good, actually. I am not overly attached to any of the characters though. In fact, I am mostly just offended that the character who is the source of the most repetitive dialogue, and is basically a bratty little kid, shares a name with the romantic thief, I mean “treasure hunter,” from “Final Fantasy VI.”
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Really though, the use of archetypical characters in genre and pulp narratives is something I can readily forgive. Sometimes the narrative goes in ways that subvert the archetypes, and sometimes the characters get fleshed out enough to render them into a more unique personality. Only 5 hours of gameplay in, it’s hard to fully assess what may become of the characters in “Lost Sphear.”
In terms of more positive aspects of “Lost Sphear,” it did improve on “I Am Setsuna” in terms of game mechanics. Unlike its spiritual predecessor, inns are available to heal the party. This standard of JRPGs was absent from “I Am Setsuna” and it was extremely inconvenient. Money is no longer as hard or convoluted to come by in “Lost Sphear,” which likely goes hand in hand with inns being part of the game.
In combat, since the combatants move around the battlefield, it is possible to hit more than one party member or monster. In “I Am Setsuna” this mechanic was incidental and could be optimized for maximum impact with practice. In “Lost Sphear,” they introduce the mechanic early on, and let the player see what monsters are being targeted.
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This multiple target mechanic warms my tactical and strategy loving heart! And kudos for the listing the button functions at the bottom of the screen; you can either ignore them, or refer to them if you need a refresher.
While the active combat style requires full attention while playing (as it should), I found exploring the different locations and world map peaceful and relaxing. The color palate is warm and the score perfectly accents the scenes. I genuinely like this gaming environment.
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For fans of SquareSoft JRPGs from the 1990s, Tokyo RPG Factory games will appeal to your genre sensibilities. It soothes and panders rather than challenges, but sometimes that is exactly the kind of media you want and need, and that’s okay. Frankly, I think it’s cool that the styles and aesthetics of these games can be retranslated with new technology to reach new audiences, while attracting longtime or lapsed fans. It’s something mainstream Hollywood cinema has done for decades, and enables more texts for genre and narrative studies. Plus, you know, it’s just fun.
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antigonies · 6 years
Text
Summer highlights
I haven't found the right words for a while, but I especially don’t know how to do justice to this summer. Everything seems to have happened. But if I don't  actually force myself to write something down now, I never will.
It all started still in Paris, with C and J inexplicably ignoring me whenever I mentioned planning a trip. And then the uncertainty of whether or not I would be hired to work in England again, something I had been looking forward to all year round, but I somehow decided that I would not get hung up on it, and believe that whatever happened was meant to happen.
The second day after flying home, C picks me up for lunch. Her hair is so short you can somewhat see her scalp, but she looks as lively and happy as usual. Meeting B at the restaurant, 10 minutes later, C tells us that she has been diagnosed with lymphoma. She did not tell us before because we live abroad and wanted us to see that she was ok. I manage to not cry then. But B reveals that the reason she was home early this year is that she woke up one day not remembering anything, covered in bruises; according to her roommates, she came home crying and screaming hysterically. She thinks she may have been drugged but none of us dare to talk about what we all are thinking. Heartbreak upon heartbreak. Holding my friends' hands, hugging  them, crying on the lunch table. 'We are too young to live through this, aren't we?', except no one actually says it, knowledge that tragedy has been happening to us already and will continue to happen. I want to never be away from them again. (I remember having written something about C back in January, something about how "I would not want to live in a world were she doesn't exist". Did I know, somehow? Does love do this to you, worrying always so much that you breathe your fears into life? I have long suspected that dreams, sometimes, are small windows into the future.)
Everything blurry after, hours of just sitting in J's car listening to him talk about the first boy he's ever really liked; going to a pride event (in honor of Garcia Lorca, my heart) with him and C; driving lessons, endlessly, my anxiety getting the best of me. Stopping a class just to call C to check if she needs help with her birthday party.
I'm clingier than most nights. C, tired of hugging me, points at this friend of hers, L, and says, half-jokingly: "He can cuddle with you". Fast forward an hour later and I'm grabbing him and kissing him in the dark of C’s front porch, clumsy and a little desperate. This may have nothing to you with you. I don’t even need to see you again, to be honest.
C and I dress up and surprise J at his graduation. He spots us in the crowd and just shouts "¡Cabronas!", which we take to mean, "I love you with all my heart". Taking cute pictures of C and her ex, because the love is still there, albeit a bit changed; everything transformed into something else.
Is this guy seriously texting me? Are we making conversation now? At first, I'm just being polite, but very quickly I'm laughing wholeheartedly at his jokes and sending him pictures of my favourite artwork at this exhibition from which C, B and I almost got kicked out because we were laughing too hard. Cheap food and two huge pints of cheap drinks later, all three of us are spilling secrets we never thought we'd share. Mocktails after because C is not supposed to drink, talking about everything we have survived in turning from girls into women, all the traumas we've fought and will keep fighting. You never know when one of the best nights of your life can happen. This is one of them.
The best nights of my life just keep piling onto each other, like the time C and I go to see 'Love Simon' and have only fries for dinner (just  like when we were thirteen), then singing our hearts out to Cristina Aguilera, thinking "this is the happiest I've been in months, maybe years, and also, I love you so, so much".
Purposely forgetting France, but also everyone I love there. Finding out that it is impossible to be present everywhere and for everyone. That perhaps you'll always be missing somewhere.
Telling my parents about J's new boyfriend and half-accidentally coming out as bi to them in the same breath. Getting just a surprised comment and then the insinuation that I'm just doing it to be like my friends. Being too scared, or too tired, or too indifferent to tell them my story, so there we are, after a brief moment of silence, at the sushi restaurant, middle table, arguing way too loud over something 'completely unrelated' that has obviously everything to do with It. Still feeling lighter after, somehow, not having to constantly look over my shoulder.
Talking to L about whether of not he should come out to his parents, too, him telling me about this boy he likes in his hometown, me telling him about how this girl keeps ghosting me. This is what my parents were scared of, I guess. This freedom. And this is just the midsummer. The only poems I care about are about the sun.
Sending C flowers after her last chemotherapy session, thinking the worst has passed already. She keeps getting weaker, though, her smile still on, but needing days of sleep. We've all become used to planning our weeks around her good days, that is, always after Wednesdays. When she starts coughing too much, though, she is admitted at the hospital, the same week we were all supposed to go partying again. The little room inside the patient area where her bed is smells of antimicrobial gel even, with the mask on.
When she tells me not to come visit the next day, my heart feels so heavy in my chest that I must find a way to distract myself from all this. Texting a former friend I am just getting back into contact with after two years since our falling out. "Hey, are you going to the fair? I really need to go out". Oh, L is coming too.  Only half-flirting, we share whatever drink he was having and I ask him about his crush; the reply makes me laugh because it may have been more than I bargained for. Of course, an hour later, we're making out at the Cuban bar after I just put lipstick on his ex. We didn't know how to dance when the night started, but we're getting better now, or more oblivious. He asks me to take him to the city center somewhere, just the two of us. I show him the best view of the city, we get breakfast together, I tell him about how the character I relate to the most is Sabina from The Unbearable Lightness of Being, because she always wants to flee, always looking for something somewhere else. He doesn't understand why I ask the things I'm asking, why I talk about loving my friends so much but seem to hate romance. I really don't know, man, I have a doctor's appointment. Straight from the party, I fix my smeared mascara and sit patiently in the waiting room for her to tell me about my blood. Unable to sleep, then, I think I'm experiencing my first hangover. The second night, the other guy in the group points out he's the only one there who hasn't had anything with L, so of course we all chant for them to kiss. Everyone is and is not tired. I don’t go home when he does because I want to keep dancing. No one knows where this is coming from. Not even me. I just want to forget myself a bit, I think.
I seriously don't know which day it is, at this point, or what happened before or after. J's birthday, with very inappropriate presents that we wanted to give him so badly. I keep re-writing C's poem but my handwriting is never pretty enough, never the perfect gift. I have, somehow, not argued with my parents in almost a month. I say I feel like a different person, and C acquiesces. My friends in France wonder where I am, what I have been doing.
I go online while half-asleep one night and seem to read that Marta (@tosfumarewords) is leaving tumblr, something with which I cannot deal at that point and I hope I just misread, trying to go back to sleep. Wondering how I can be so sad over losing someone I have never met in real life, but frankly I am too depressed about it to log on again and find out if it's really happening, and why.
Everyone is going back to studying, so I am alone more. I don't want to be alone. I also don't want to think about it. J takes me up to the mountain to go stargazing. I don't think I could be more in love with the night sky, or with the moment we cuddle in the backseat of his car,  telling him about how I don't want to die anymore, although maybe I would not have chosen to be born, not yet anyway. The clouds have come by now but it doesn't matter. We softly hum to the radio on our way down.
At my grandparent's village, the familiar routine of getting to know old friends again and being too afraid to ask about the war-full past marks the beginning of the end of the summer.
I've started to reread the bad literature of my teenage years over which C and I first bonded over. She is too busy to go out now, back into the hustle. I talk to B about relationships, how they seem to be in a language that is foreign and distant to me. She asks me to let her and her friend sleep at my house in Paris in November, and of course, everyone is welcome to come. The same day, L tells me he is getting tickets to come visit the city. I guess everything happens at once.
This, the first time I write anything new in months, and now it's five pages long, three hours later. I apparently don't know how to do anything in moderation. Getting ready for new farewells, again, and already, things that seemed to be over come back. Reunions on the horizon. Nothing ever leaves completely. Everything transformed into something else. Even summer, time, even me.
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dailyaudiobible · 6 years
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11/24/2018 DAB Transcript
Ezekiel 47:1-48:35, 1 Peter 2:11-3:7, Psalms 119:49-64, Proverbs 28:12-13
Today is the 24th day of November. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I’m Brian. It is an honor and a pleasure to be here with you today as we close down another one of our weeks. And this week went fast…this week went fast, and it seems like the weeks only get faster as we get toward the end of the year. And man, we’re getting there. One month from today's Christmas Eve. So, that's how close we’re getting. But no matter how fast the days get we have rhythm and we step out of all the things that are pulling us in so many directions and just allow the word of God to wash over us and today is no different. We’re reading from the Good News Translation this week. Ezekiel chapter 47 verse 1 through 48 verse 35 today.
Prayer:
We thank You Father for another week in Your word. And, once again, we kind of reach this line in time and we look back and can declare Your faithfulness. You have been faithful, and we worship You. And Father, as I we put another week into our past and allow it to become a part of our history, we also look forward with anticipation to all that the new week will bring and all that the season holds for us. Holy Spirit come, allow us to immerse ourselves and deeply meditate upon what this season represents because You're coming, Jesus, changed humanity and we are changed because of it, but all too often we find ourselves dabbling and meshing ourselves and trapping ourselves in things that You have freed us from. We have walked back into slavery when we have been set free. And, so, we spend this time contemplating what it means to be set free because You came for us. So, come Holy Spirit. We release another week into our past and we walk with You into a bright future. Come, Holy Spirit we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.
Announcements:
dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here.
And the Daily Audio Bible Family Christmas Box is what's going on around here right now and it is available. It’s chock-full of things that you're gonna want to keep and full of things that you’ll also want to give away as gifts. So, be sure to check it out at dailyaudiobible.com in the Shop, in the Christmas section, and you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com or you can also do it from the Daily Audio Bible app and see all the goodies that we have the Christmas Box for this year. They will sell out. I say this every year and they do. So, don't delay, especially if you are international. If you are outside the United States, yeah, especially don't delay. The 28th of this month, which is middle of next week will be the cutoff date for international. I mean, you can order all the way until they're gone, but we feel like if we don't get these orders in by the 28th, those that are going outside of the United States, they may not arrive in time for Christmas. So, just be aware of that. If you are within the domestic United States then, yeah, we have some time…a little bit more time on that. So, do indeed check them out.
And one of the things in the Daily Audio Bible Christmas box this year is a pack of 20 of our 2018 Christmas cards. If you are Christmas card sender, then check them out. You get those separate, There the only thing from the Christmas Box that you can get separate. You can order as many of those as you want separately. And it’s a good deal. I mean, five bucks for 20 cards and envelopes and there beautiful. They have the word for the year this year, “Hope” on the front of them. And you can see them at dailyaudiobible.com. But check those out. Invite your friends and your family. Invite those who could use a journey like this next year, to take the journey with you as we gear up and go through the whole thing again. This is the best time of year to invite those that are in your life who you see are kind of floundering and could use the stability of a rhythm and a community and the Scriptures in their life every day. This is a great time. So, the Christmas cards are available, and all this can be checked out at dailyaudiobiblebible.com.
If you are partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that it dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage…couldn't thank you enough. We’re in this together. So, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.
And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.
And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.
Community Prayer and Praise:
Beautiful family, this is pastor Gene from Bradenton Florida. I always say, “my beautiful family” and I always say that “I love you” and I just want to tell you guys I really mean it. I don’t know where I would be without you guys. This has been the best…one of the best adventures of my life, going on five years and I’m so grateful. Actually, this is my fifth anniversary and I’m grateful. I’m grateful to Brian, I’m grateful to Jill, their family, I’m grateful to each one of you. Thank you so much for having me. Please join me in prayer. Lord Jesus, thank you for your love and your kindness. Father, we lift up our brother Rafael from Delaware and we ask for your blessing upon him, strengthen him, fill him with you joy and the reassurance that you are with him. We pray for our sisters, __ from California. Father, we glorify you and we rejoice on the progress, but we pray for a permanent change of every member of her beautiful family, of change that it’s rooted on a __ with Christ by every member of my sister’s family. That is my prayer father. Father, I pray for our sister Janet __. Her husband survived cancer but due to his cancer he cannot find a job. I pray in the name of Jesus that my brother will not release that information because it’s illegal if anybody’s taking that into consideration. Defending a position to get it is against the law. So, in the name of Jesus I pray that you will change that and that you will open doors for my brother. Father, I pray for our sister Christina. Her daughter Grace has a lot of emotional issues. I pray that you will deliver __. I pray that you will show her your love and your kindness. I pray that you will give my sister Christina strategies to strengthen her relationship with her. And father I pray, we pray, for our sister Alex and her husband who are going to infertility treatment. They feel like there on the end of the road and this is where you can show up and do a mighty work. We believe you and we believe in pray in Jesus’ name. I love you family. Pastor Gene from Bradenton Florida. Bye.
Hi, this is Kate the nurse from Seattle. I just got a message from my granddaughter. I’m gonna call her Ash, she’s 22. We live in Washington state and I think she’s in Arizona, but I don’t know. She’s been gone for half a year, three quarters of the year. She is addicted to heroin and wrote this poem that was frank, and frankly, for an old lady, shocking and horrific about how she feels about heroin and the need for it above all else. And I know that she has given her heart to Jesus at one point and I know she was in rehab and left early in Spokane for a while and was doing very well. And I’m just…please pray for her…please pray for her to choose the Lord first and for her safety, for her health because I’m not sure how much she’s healthy and for a good place to live. Thank you so much family. Again, Ashland, please pray for her heroin addiction. Thank you.
Hi, this is Diane from Pennsylvania and I’d like to make a prayer request for my girlfriend Anita who is starting chemotherapy today. And she had a big surgery about three weeks ago that was 8 ½ hours
and she does have stage IV cancer. And I’m just praying for successful chemotherapy and very minimal side effects. Also, I wanted to update you that my granddaughter Elizabeth is making steady progress and she has been able to be taken out of a very abusive situation…family situation. And, so, I’m so thankful for your prayers. And I also wanted to ask…request that people would consider given a Thanksgiving gift to the Daily Audio Bible because we feast on the word every day and I know it takes a lot of money to keep those servers going and to just have this happening every day for all of us all around the world. So, maybe you could consider a Thanksgiving gift for our Thanksgiving feast that we eat every day. Thank you so much. This is Diane from Pennsylvania.
Dear family, I am so nervous on this call and I’m so thankful, like Brian said that we don’t have to carry things alone. We have an emergency court this morning for custody of a grandchild. It’s not a good situation and I just pray that we get him today and I also ask prayer for his mother. She needs some help. You know, we all need help but the environment that he would be going in with her is just not good and I’m scared, and I just ask for prayers. I pray for you too. Thank you. Bye.
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plusorminuscongress · 4 years
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New story in Politics from Time: President Trump Says U.S. Can Reopen Without Risking Lives, as He Predicts Death Toll Will Rise to 90,000
(WASHINGTON) — Anxious to spur an economic recovery without risking lives, President Donald Trump insists that “you can satisfy both” — see states gradually lift lockdowns while also protecting people from the coronavirus pandemic that has killed more than 66,000 Americans.
The president, fielding questions from Americans Sunday night in a virtual town hall from the Lincoln Memorial, acknowledged valid fears on both sides of the issue. Some people are worried about getting sick; others are reeling from lost jobs and livelihoods.
But while Trump increased his projection for the total U.S. death total to 80,000 or 90,000 — up by more than 20,000 fatalities from what he had suggested just a few weeks ago — he struck a note of urgency to restart the nation’s economy, declaring “we have to reopen our country.”
“We have to get it back open safely but as quickly as possible,” Trump said.
After more than a month of being cooped up at the White House, Trump returned from a weekend at the Camp David presidential retreat in Maryland for the virtual town hall hosted by Fox News Channel.
The president said of his monumental backdrop: “We never had a more beautiful set than this.”
As concerns mount about his reelection bid, Trump stuck to his relentlessly optimistic view of the nation’s ability to rebound soon.
“It is all working out,” Trump said. “It is horrible to go through, but it is working out.”
Many public health experts believe the nation cannot safely reopen fully until a vaccine is developed. Trump declared Sunday that he believed one could be available by year’s end.
U.S. public health officials have said a vaccine is probably a year to 18 months away. But Dr. Anthony Fauci, the nation’s leading expert on infectious diseases and member of the White House coronavirus task force, said in late April that it is conceivable, if a vaccine is soon developed, that it could be in wide distribution as early as January.
Though the administration’s handling of the pandemic, particularly its ability to conduct widespread testing, has come under fierce scrutiny, the president tried to shift the blame to China and said the U.S. was ready to begin reopening.
“I’ll tell you one thing. We did the right thing and I really believe we saved a million and a half lives,” the president said. But he also broke with the assessment of his senior adviser and son-in-law, Jared Kushner, saying it was “too soon to say” the federal government had overseen a “success story.”
Trump’s impatience also flashed. While noting that states would go at their own pace in returning to normal, with ones harder hit by the coronavirus going slower, he said that “some states, frankly, I think aren’t going fast enough.” He singled out Virginia, which has a Democratic governor and legislature. And he urged the nation’s schools and universities to return to classes this fall.
Federal guidelines that encouraged people to stay at home and practice social distancing expired late last week.
Debate continued over moves by governors to start reopening state economies that tanked after shopping malls, salons and other nonessential businesses were ordered closed in attempt to slow a virus that has killed more than 66,000 Americans, according to a tally of reported deaths by Johns Hopkins University.
The U.S. economy has suffered, shrinking at a 4.8% annual rate from January through March, the government estimated last week. And roughly 30.3 million people have filed for unemployment aid in the six weeks since the outbreak forced employers to shut down and slash their workforces.
The president’s advisers have nervously watched Trump’s support slip in a number of battleground states and he was told last month that if the election were held that day, he would lose to Democrat Joe Biden. The president’s aides believe restarting the economy, even with its health risks, is essential to a victory in November and are pushing for him to pivot away from discussions about the pandemic and onto an American comeback story.
To that end, Trump will begin traveling again, with a trip to a mask factory in Arizona planned for Tuesday. The president also is set to speak in June at commencement for the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. Returning to campus for commencement will require graduates to self-isolate for 14 days, but Trump insisted the event poses no risk to the cadets.
The town hall, which included an appearance by Vice President Mike Pence, included a rare mea culpa: The vice president said he should have worn a facemask during a visit last week to Minnesota’s Mayo Clinic. Pence’s failure to wear a mask violated the clinic’s guidelines and drew significant criticism.
Elsewhere in Washington, the Senate planned to reopen Monday, despite the area’s continued status as a virus hot spot and with the region still under stay-at-home orders. The House remains shuttered as debate continues on what the next stage of the economic recovery may look like.
State and local governments are seeking up to $1 trillion in coronavirus costs, which has been met with some objections by congressional Republicans.
Trump said that while he thought common ground could be found with Democrats over an infrastructure package, “we’re not doing anything unless we get a payroll tax cut. That is so important to the success of our country.”
That proposal has been met with objections from both parties.
The leaders of California and Michigan are among governors under public pressure over lockdowns still in effect while states such as Florida, Georgia and Ohio are reopening.
Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer, a Democrat, said Sunday that the armed protesters who demonstrated inside her state’s Capitol “depicted some of the worst racism” and “awful parts” of U.S. history by showing up with Confederate flags, nooses and swastikas.
Trump on Sunday night singled out Whitmer and Washington Gov. Jay Inslee, also a Democrat, for criticism even as he praised the federal coordination with most governors. He also complained that some Democrats would rather “people get sick” than given him any credit for pushing the use of a malaria drug for treating COVID-19, though it has not been proven to be safe and effective for that use.
___
Lemire reported from New York.
By Darlene Superville and Jonathan Lemire / AP on May 04, 2020 at 02:16AM
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thebibliomancer · 7 years
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Essential Avengers: Avengers #153: “Home is the Hero!”
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November, 1976
Since I’m typing this while sick, I can’t really figure out if that title makes no sense or what. I know all the words but in that order its like whaaaaat.
There’s actually a number of things going on here that don’t really mesh well with ill loopiness.
But first, the cover.
The Avengers sure are getting their asses kicked by an elderly man with heart troubles.
Earth’s Mightiest Heroes!
Actually its kind of weird how easy it is to solo the Avengers if the plot says so. Grim Reaper managed it. The Whizzer is managing it. Orka, the man dressed as the whale that isn’t a whale managed it. Ant-Man will manage it soon. They’re kind of a paper tiger sometimes. Just crumbling before the right single individual.
But its hard to come out with a fresh new story every month, probably.
Also, Jack Kirby cover! And tiny judgemental Vision has changed his pose! It truly is a brand new day!
Anyway.
We start off with Scarlet Witch flying towards the ruins of the Brand Corporation.
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Right off the bat, something is amiss.
Scarlet Witch cannot usually fly.
Apparently, this was later retconned as Wanda using an experimental “flying belt” which I guess she was wearing under her leotard. Not a strong early showing for the new creative team, I’ll tell you that.
I think the bare minimum for writing on a comic should be knowing the characters you’re going to be writing.
Although, y’know, its weird that the Avengers didn’t invest in experimental flying belts or flight rings or whatever for their non-flying members. It would save a heap of trouble and they have Tony Stark, right there.
Wonder Man gets a flight belt of sorts later but since its rocket powered and he can only use it because he has an invincible hiney, its not really suitable for the rest of the team.
So okay, Scarlet Witch has returned to the remains of the Brand Corporation which isn’t a crime scene or cordoned off or anything. Ffs, Marvel law enforcement.
When suddenly, a laser ZAMM!s her, causing her to plummet to the ground, her flight belt that she totally has shorted out or something.
Thinking quick, she turns the ground to water to soften her fall but she still gets the wind knocked out of her.
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She also happens to land right next to the Serpent Crown, which she is apparently here for. Maybe she’s still subconsciously manipulating probabilities because that’s dang lucky.
Or perhaps darn unlucky. She landed next to the thing but someone shot her out of the sky and after that fall, she’s in no shape to fight whoever is the laser wielding person.
Unsurprise, its the Living Laser.
He’s the worst.
Anyway, he takes his time to gloat about how cool he is. Y’know, just villain things.
But he’s here to take the Serpent Crown. A gaudy hat like that will go wonders with his garish outfit.
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How the hell did the Avengers just forget the artifact of doom that they stole from another world?!
Anyway, Living Laser is not like those other villains. Instead of leaving while the hero is helpless, he’s just going to kill her now on the off chance she might become a problem.
So something has to get in the way if his own stupidity won’t.
The Brand private army charges forward to attack Scarlet Witch, recognizing her as one of the Avengers that busted up the place.
Living Laser blasts some of them and then decides to completely forget about Scarlet Witch and laser teleport away. Thanks, laser inattentiveness!
Meanwhile, the rest of the Avengers return from New Orleans in the Quinjet, raising so many questions. Did Scarlet Witch fly all the way to New York with the experimental flying belt that she somehow got between issues? Why not just catch a ride most of the way with the Avengers since they were headed the same way?
This Is Something I Have To Do Myself is a cursed trope, constantly vexing me.
Anyway. The Avengers return. And have to go into their mansion through the back door because there’s still a big mob of lookie-loos and newspeeps at the front door. Even though Jarvis kicked them off the property last issue.
You need to work on your follow-through, Jarvis.
But here’s a thing: over the past several hours, Wonder Man’s heartbeat has been getting stronger. He’s coming back to life, maybe!
Oh and Jarvis shows up and implies why he didn’t finish tossing out the nosy mob. The Avengers had a guest show up while they were out and Jarvis deposited him in the sitting room to await their return.
Its Bob Frank, the Whizzer (But not the Squadron Sinisterpreme one. The All-Winners Squad and Liberty Legion one). And he specifically wants to see Vision.
Apparently the Whizzer disappeared after Quicksilver and Crystal’s wedding and Wanda and Vision worried after him. They even thought him dead. Not enough to ever bring it up or go searching for him on panel. But they were worried, on the inside.
But Whizzer didn’t come to wallow in self-pity or explain what he’s been up to. He’s come to check on Wanda, because of that broadcast that implied she might leave the Avengers. Remember? From #151?
Vision confides that Wanda temporarily left him and the Avengers the previous night on a journey of self-understanding and wishes to be alone.
And then someone shines a laser in Bob Frank’s eye and instead of going blind, all hell breaks loose.
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The Whizzer goes wild and BOM!s Vision. He also forgot who Vision was and what they were talking about.
Wouldn’t it be terrifying for someone with superpowers to get dementia?
That’s not going on here and frankly I’ll express my doubts at the ability of the Avengers book to handle the subject with the tact and respect required. But the thought occurred to me.
Thank god for sliding time scales, I guess.
Anyway, Vision was BOM!’d unconscious and Whizzer whizzes off as if searching for something.
But finds Captain America, Beast, and Iron Man, who came to investigate that BOM!.
Cap throws his mighty shield but Whizzer, he does not yield. I’m calling into question his patriotism.
Whizzer calls Cap Isbisa, accuses him of wanting to take over the world and then WHAM!s Iron Man hard while Beast cannonballs out of the way, spouting witticisms.
Cap tries to talk Whizzer down but Whizzer spins him right round until he corkscrews up and into the ceiling. Like. INTO the ceiling. As in, its a surprise Cap has any skull left.
And then we reach a short impasse of sorts. Whizzer is moving too fast for Beast to do much to. The guy is freaked out and apparently hypnotized to boot. But Beast is acrobatic enough that Whizzer is maybe too fast to catch him? If that makes sense?
So instead he uses brains. He runs at and bounces off the wall so hard that part of the ceiling collapses, burying Beast.
Quicksilver could learn a lot from this guy, as far as purposefully running into walls goes.
And with no one left to fight, Whizzer’s head clears a little. Its not the forties at all. And then he hears a buzzing and suddenly his head feels like its splitting apart from pain.
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And then he passes out.
Because apparently Yellowjacket and the Wasp had flown inside his ear and shot his ear drums.
Clever of them to not just join the fight and instead wait until everyone else got punched.
Eighteen minutes of off-screen action and the two size-changing heroes manage to scrape together the other three. Beast is conscripted to carry Whizzer to the lab.
Beast: “Since when was I elected donkey for this troop?”
Vision: “In many ways, you are our strongest member, Hank McCoy -- and thus, you may sometimes be unduly burdened.”
I call shenanigans on that. You’re just hazing the new guy, aren’t you?
But while everyone was either getting beaten up by the Whizzer or flying inside his ears, Wonder Man vanished. And not only that, someone wrecked up the lab where they left him.
It almost feels as if the whole thing with the Whizzer was some kind of distraction?
Anyway, Wonder Man stumbles out the side exit of the mansion because its a mansion and can have more than two exists. And some of the lookie-loos spot him and recognize him as Wonder Man.
They immediately get right up in his personal space, grabbing at him and begging for souvenirs.
And Simon Williams, aka Wonder Man, is not really up to speed yet. He’s running in safe mode, as it were. Because he acts on instinct to being mobbed and smacks away the crowd and then absconds.
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And the narration notes that at this point he’s almost moving like a normal living person, with none of the stiffness of a zuvembie. Also, gone is the blank expressionless stare ALTHOUGH HOW YOU COULD TELL THAT THROUGH THE VISOR IS BEYOND ME, CREATIVE TEAM.
So, yeah. Remember how we left Scarlet Witch at Brand?
Yeah, she’s still there. And still being accosted by the Brand private army that doesn’t know that their bosses have all been arrested and they are probably unemployed.
She doesn’t even bother telling them either. Just dismisses them as frozen in blind obedience and immediately starts scarlet witching at them.
And then becomes frightened of the violence that her powers can cause, which seems like a step back for her, possibly. Not the sort of way her character was going under Englehart, is the feeling I get. Where she ripped a meteor from heaven and exulted in it. And now she gets frightened because she made the ground shake a little.
Oh, and then she gets shot.
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One of the Brand punks she knocked down was playing possum, grabbed a gun and managed to get her in the shoulder.
Scarlet Witch decides to leave this pointless fight and warn the Avengers about the Living Laser and the Serpent Crown.
Now back to Wonder Man, already in progress.
The resurrected or whatever Wonder Man has been wandering the streets of Yorktown but finds himself drawn to a bright light down a particular street.
And a figure appears in that bright light.
AHHHHHH WONDER MAN IS BEING ABDUCTED BY ALIENS!
Oh. Oh. No, its Living Laser.
Anyway, he says he mentally commanded Wonder Man to come here to become his slave. And he also shot the Whizzer to hallucinate that the Avengers were enemies by shooting him in the eye with a laser. Which presumably was a distraction so that he could mentally command Wonder Man to wreck the lab and leave the mansion.
It’s all coming together.
Living Laser now has improved laser powers (possibly even laser willpower), the Serpent Crown, and Wonder Man as muscle.
Oh and Living Laser wasn’t the one who resurrected Wonder Man either. He considers it an unimportant mystery that might amuse him to solve one day.
We getting a lot of red herrings on our way through this mystery.
So while Living Laser proceeds with another brilliant part of his master plan of awesomeness, he commands Wonder Man to seek out and destroy the Avengers!
If they’re fighting and being killed by Wonder Man, they can’t interfere. Its genius.
And Wonder Man agrees.
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“THE AVENGERS MUST BE DESTROYED!”
Geez. Think for yourself you holly jolly idiot.
We have a letters column again this time. Do people care about the letters column from decades ago? I kind of find it interesting in a pinhole snapshot kind of way.
Someone complains about the amount of reprinted material in #150, which I’m right there for. Another person complains about taking Thor out of the Avengers saying they wouldn’t be the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes without him (the Kooky Quartet weeps), instead suggesting that a character who hasn’t been in the line-up so long be removed. Which would be... probably only Beast? Everyone else has been around a long time, even during times when Thor was off the team.
Whoever answers these letters invites readers to send in their opinions for a Thor vs No Thor poll. Might be interesting, if its included in the Marvel Unlimited version.
Next time: this story concludes in a Giant-Size Avengers. Give all your money to Marvel. Consume. Obey. Obey the Serpent Crown.
Follow @essential-avengers. It exists.
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Book Review: The Lies of Locke Lamora
by Wardog
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Wardog actually likes something - possibly because she didn't have to pay for it.~
Father Chains sat on the roof of the House of Perelandro, staring down at the astonishingly arrogant fourteen-year-old that he little orphan he'd purchased so many years before from the Thiefmaker of Shades' Hill had become. "Some day, Locke Lamora," he said, "some day, you're going to fuck up so magnificently, so ambitiously, so overwhelmingly that the sky will light up and the moons will spin and the gods themselves will shit comets with glee. And I just hope I'm still around to see it." "Oh, please," said Locke. "It'll never happen."
The Lies of Locke Lamora is basically a fantasy-heist novel, but it's also a pleasant breeze through a stale genre (yes, I'm bitter), shorter than the typical eighty million pages and a surprisingly assured and competent debut. I picked it up in Hay on Wye for a sum so ludicrously trifling (a mere one of my English pounds) that it almost felt as if Scott Lynch had come up to me in the street and asked me nicely to read his novel, the consequence of which is that my critical objectivity is shot to buggery but I think I'd still be recommending this if I'd forked out the
requisite 7.99.
Locke Lamora - otherwise known as the Thorn of Camorr - is the leader of a tightly knit group of conmen-thieves known as the Gentleman Bastards. As the novel kicks off, they are in the process of scamming a couple of aristocrats out of a portion of their fortune, coincidentally violating the long-standing Secret Peace that has been negotiated between the criminal underworld and the upper echelons of society. Meanwhile a mysterious personage known as the Grey King is preying upon the thieves of Camorr and forces Locke to participate in his personal vendetta against the city's crimelord Capa Barsavi. Needless to say, events soon spiral massively out of Locke's control and he finds himself caught up in something that threatens not only the people he cares for but the entire stability of the city. The first third of the book is a rompish heist, complete with all the usual twists and turns, but then it twists on its axis becoming a much darker and more serious story, although it never loses the edge of gallows-humour that makes it such a pleasure to read.
The Lies of Locke Lamora is a truly a rootless, bastard child of the genre: there's a fair mixing of Feist, Gavriel Kay, Brust, Miville, Pratchett and Dickens to be found within, to say nothing of the more than passing nods to movies like The Godfather, The Sting, Oceans 11, Scar Face and Goodfellas. It's not flawless, but it's still damn good: a fast-paced, page-turning adventure story set in a complex and intriguing world that doesn't drown you in detail (although I expect the author will soon forget this and commence the deluge). Camorr provides an excellent backdrop for Lamora's exploits: an island city built of Elderglass by a race nobody remembers, it seems to be inspired by 16th century Venice, with all the attendant squalor and decadence. There's definitely world-building going on but its of the subtle kind that successfully creates the impression of a living and very real city without racking up a page count hefty enough to kill a walrus (*cough* Miville *cough*). Lynch's imagination encompasses both beauty and brutality, dancing easily from the banal to the opulent, from frivolity to genuine threat. One of my favourite chapters introduces the fencing master, Don Maranzella in his House of Glass Roses:
"Here was an entire rose garden, wall after all, of perfect petals and stems and thorns, silent and scentless and alive with reflected fire, for it was all carved from Elderglass, a hundred thousand blossoms, perfect down to the tiniest thorn ... ... each wall of roses was actually transparent .... Yet there were patches of genuine colour here and there in the hearts of the sculptures, swirled masses of reddish-brown transulence like clouds of rust-coloured smoke frozen in ice. These clouds were human blood.
I can forgive Lynch for lingering in his fairytale garden of blood-thirsty roses and his farmer-turned-fencing master is a wonderful antidote to all those artistic gentlemanly types with their flourishing rapiers. This chapter seems to illustrate Lynch at his very best - the strange, sculpted roses and the introduction of the fencing master, the shift from pretension to pragmatism, from description to dialogue, from fantastical lyricism to dark humour and the sudden stripped-down truth about what Jean Tannen has really come to learn:
"Jean, you misunderstand." Maranzella kicked idly at the toy rapier and it clattered across the tiles of the roof top. "Those prancing little pants-wetters come here to learn the colourful and gentlemanly art of fencing, with its many sporting limitations and its proscriptions against dishonourable engagements. You, on the other hand," he said, as he turned to give Jean a firm but friendly poke in the centre of his forehead, "you are going to learn how to kill men with a sword."
The book itself is interestingly structured - it reminds me rather of Heroes, in fact. It consists of a succession of short chapters building to a mini-climax, followed by a brief interlude, either a tale of the City and its Gods, or a flashback to the early years and training of Locke and his gang. This actually works really well. The interludes are generally absorbing enough that, even though I was eager to find out what was going to happen next, I didn't skip them or resent reading them ... at least not very much. Furthermore, most of the interludes, although not precisely relevant, often offer an illumination on future events, thus rewarding the alert reader. And it does solve the perennial fantasy book problem of how to introduce the hero to the reader and show his gradual development from child to adult without spending the first five hundred pages of the novel narrating every little moment of the hero's childhood in agonisingly tedious detail. Part of me, however, couldn't quite shake the conviction that it was a cheap trick. It's a very obvious way to build tension and create anxiety and uncertainty in the reader and occasionally interferes with the pacing at critical moments.
Lynch's is a self-consciously "dark" world; there's an awful lot of swearing and torture, and the central characters are, of course, thieves and murderers. But since we only ever see them stealing from the rich and murdering those who thoroughly deserve it and their loyalty to each other is unswerving, there's never really any question of their being admirable characters deep down. This is not a problem per se; but the book is about as morally ambiguous as my Grandmother:
"I only steal because my dear old family needs the money to live!" Locke Lamora made this proclamation with his wine glass held high ... ... the others began to jeer. "Liar!" they chorused "I only steal because this wicked world won't let me work an honest trade!" Calo cried, hoisting his own glass. "LIAR!" "I only steal," said Jean, "because I've temporarily fallen in with bad company." "LIAR!" At last the ritual came to Bug; the boy raised his glass a bit shakily and yelled, "I only steal because it's heaps of fucking fun!" "BASTARD!"
Stealing may be wrong but it's also big and clever and all the cool kids are doing it. The exuberance and loyalty of the Gentleman Bastards is charming and it's impossible not to root for them. On the other hand, I am conscious of a vague dissatisfaction with Locke. The book is careful to assert that he is skinny and unremarkable and a poor fighter but he is also a consummate conman with incredible reserves of tenacity and courage, he is cunning, daring and quick-thinking, and there is no sacrifice he will not consider to preserve the safety of his friends and loved ones. He can be ruthless when necessary, he has the survival instincts of a rat, he's reckless occasionally but only in a way we're meant to think is cool and, on top of all this, he has a conscience and listens to it. Needless to say his origins are shrouded in mystery (I'm sure this will be Very Important later) and his creator is head over heels in love with him. I came dangerously close to finding the character annoying and if Lynch isn't careful he's going to be unbearable a couple of books down the line.
Speaking of the dreaded "couple of books down the line" The Lies of Locke Lamora does a reasonable job of offering a coherent and contained plot arc, but there are several dangling threads (the most irritating of which is Locke's love interest, a woman occasionally mentioned but never introduced) presumably left there to wet the appetite for future books. The mighty internet tells me there will be seven of these, which triggers all my cringe mechanisms. This cannot end well. Has nobody learned anything from JK Rowling?
The second book of the septad, Red Seas Under Red Skies, has recently been released - having enjoyed the first book has much as I did, I'm now terrified to read the second in case it sucks. I guess I'll have to wait until it's available for 1 again. But, in the meantime, you could do worse than taking a look at The Lies of Locke Lamora. It's not perfect - Mary Sue-ish main character, a plot necessitated, damn near omnipotent bondsmage - and I understand it has received some criticism for its modern-sounding speech but, quite frankly, I found that contributed to the lively, irreverent tone of the book. But it is a fun, fast-paced read in a ponderous genre and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
PS - This is really childish (and has nothing to do with the review at all) but I think I also need to point out that Scott Lynch looks like this --->: 
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Arthur B
at 17:09 on 2007-11-14I was toying with doing a Reading Canary for this one, and might still do if I get around to picking up
Red Seas
, but you seem to have covered most of the bases. I agree that criticising the book for modern-sounding speech is reaching a little - if an author's simply more comfortable writing dialogue in a modern style then I'd rather they did that than attempt to try Ye Olde Speeche and fail horribly. I also agree that Lynch is a little too in love with Lamora, and indeed most of the book's fans are a little too much in love with Lamora; the fun of the book comes when Locke screws up horribly, and if you look at it objectively he isn't actually as nice a guy as Lynch thinks he is. That's why the book works, of course: the big central conflict is about accepting a rotten compromise which causes suffering for a few but provides peace and security for many, or rejecting that compromise knowing full well that rejection means no peace or security for anyone, and it's good that the representatives of both sides have their good and bad points.
The big criticism I'd have is that all the flashback bits to their childhood simply weren't as interesting to me as the main story: I'd much rather have a book half the length without the flashbacks. It doesn't matter whether Jean was taught swordplay by a farmer-turned-toff in a blood garden or by a toff-turned-farmer in a turnip patch: I can't think of any instance in the main storyline where it becomes at all relevant. There is one flashback which nicely foreshadows the final conflict, but it does so by basically explaining what Locke's tactic is going to be, so the ending is a bit obvious. Also, yes, big smirking long-haired Scott Lynch wants to kiss big smirking long-haired Locke, a meeting of shit-eating grins which thankfully cannot actually occur in real life.
Thing is, I'm not sure whether I'll ever actually get around to picking up
Red Seas
. I picked up
Lies
second-hand too, and while it's a fun and consistently not-crap read it isn't quite good enough to force me to go buy the new one. I'm not convinced that the character merits more than one book about him.
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empink
at 00:01 on 2007-11-15@ Arthur
For now, I'd say not to bother with Red Seas. It's also a fairly consitently not-crap read, but imho the author's love for his character really burns strong in the sequel. I don't know why I couldn't put my finger on it when I read it, but Kyra hits the nail on the head here. He really, really loves this character of his, and it means he gets to do all kinds of improbably cool stuff.
Now, while that was fun in the first book, it starts to wear on you in the second one. The dialogue needs to be beaten with the boring stick (I swear, everything everyone says is so witty that you WISH someone would say something dumb at some point. Which they don't. ARGH), and the plot is just...stretchy, in terms of suspension of disbelief.
All I know to say is that, having read Red Seas, I'm not going to jones for the rest of the series anywhere as near as I am jonesing for one or two others, because it probably won't be worth it.
PS, Kyra, the mysterious woman never actually shows up in Red Seas. But she does get mentioned. A LOT. *facepalm*
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Wardog
at 09:22 on 2007-11-15ACtually my copy of Lies was brand, spanking new and still one pound - that's why I'm so smug about it. I LOVE you Hay on Wye!
Ahem, anyway. I actually found Locke irritatingly virtuous. Even when he's trying to get a suit of clothes, and he drops an innocent waiter into the shit, he still takes time extract said waiter *and* give him a purse containing more money he's ever held in his life. Until that point I was actually impressed that he'd completely fucked up the waiter's life - it made him less sympathetic but I think, perhaps, more interesting?
I genuinely didn't mind the flashbacks and interludes; they weren't *quite* as interesting as the main plot but I didn't find them sufficiently tedious that they detracted from it too badly. And I was oddly into Jean Tannen (even though he's basically just a side-kick protector for Locke)so I really loved the stuff in the House of Glass Roses; also it is relevant because it "explains" why Jean can take out the two shark-baiting sisters without getting completely mullered.
And thanks for the warnings, Empink, I very very nearly bought a full-price copy of Red Seas the other day and I'm now *so glad* I didn't. I'm not sure I can stand another book of love-interest build-up because you just *know* she won't live up to it. And I don't wish to see Lynch consummating his relationship with Locke in an orgy of cool stunts.
I did find Lies genuinely witty but mainly because the characters tended to say something deeply pragmatic or macabre or just plain inappropriate at what would otherwise be very serious moments. It helped me get through the nasty bits (becuase I'm a wimp) and it also tended to have a nice edge of desperation to it - whereas I don't think I *want* a dazzling virtuoso wit-fest from the Book II.
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Arthur B
at 12:19 on 2007-11-15Empink:
I'd been wondering what I'd found weird about the dialogue in
Lies
, but you've put your finger on it: everybody's a smartarse. I can remember a couple of times where I was having trouble following conversations, because everyone's dialogue is so similar in tone and delivery that there's little differentiating them. It feels less like a bunch of different people are having a conversation and more like Lynch has a bunch of sockpuppets that he's using to tell a story - you never forget that it's Lynch behind all of them. (Still, at least it is monotonous in a clever and witty and entertaining way as opposed to monotonous in a consistently dumb and boring way.)
Kyra:
You're right about the overvirtuousness. I was remembering the bit where he wrecks the waiter's life, but not the part where he makes it all better. I think the worst thing he does in the entire book is play a practical joke on the secret police (you know, the one with the boats full of shit).
I like Jean too, but I worry that I only like him because he's a floating bit of driftwood in an ocean of Locke; he's the only other interesting character we spend an extended amount of time with (though I also liked the Capa's daughter and the Grey King and the head of the secret police), so he's a welcome relief from an unending shower of Lamora-love. As far as the Glass Roses stuff explaining the shark sisters fight, I consider "Jean is a rock-hard son of a bitch" to be a more than adequate explanation for why he beat them. Jean being a rock-hard son of a bitch is neatly demonstrated in the main story by, well, Jean beating the shark sisters...
Both of ye:
I think it's fairly obvious at this point that the Mysterious Love Interest is, in fact, Scott Lynch in a dress.
Either that, or she'll be the big bad at the end of the series.
Possibly the big bad will be Scott Lynch in a dress.
The intersection of Lynchsmirk and Lamoracock providing the cure to the world's ills.
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Wardog
at 14:18 on 2007-11-15I actually thought the dialogue in Lies was just about cope-able with - it's true that everyone sounds nearly the same but that genuinely didn't bother me except occasionally when Locke was conversing with arisocrats and then it grated somewhat. Dona Sofia, for example, is clearly meant to have a distinct and feisty personality with her alchemy and everything - but I never really got much from her. I think I was just glad to have snappy, modern-sounding dialogue for a change, instead of ponderous faux-medieval stuff.
But Jean was a fat, weepy merchant's son - he had to go from that to RHSOFAB somehow; sure, you didn't need to really know how but since these two sisters were meant to be *all that* it wouldn't have made sense for some thiefly-brawler to be able to take them out.
I still feel positive about Lies, despite its flaws. You were obviously considerably more irritated by the Locke-Lovin' than I was. And Lynch isn't the most talented ventriloquist but I didn't feel him in the background as much as you did either. I shouldn't have put up the picture, I think I've just generated undue hostility by drawing attention to the fact he looks like the sort of person we know.
But I genuinely think Lies stands as a good fantasy read; future books, well, we'll see...
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Wardog
at 14:21 on 2007-11-15Also, I think Arthur is just being discriminating because Lynch isn't a hottie like
Gene Wolfe
;)
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Arthur B
at 14:57 on 2007-11-15
But Jean was a fat, weepy merchant's son - he had to go from that to RHSOFAB somehow; sure, you didn't need to really know how but since these two sisters were meant to be *all that* it wouldn't have made sense for some thiefly-brawler to be able to take them out.
Yeah, but we only know that because of the flashbacks, so Lynch ends up setting up a problem which he then feels that he needs to solve with more flashbacks. It'd be more interesting, to me, if he'd established the sonofabitchness of Jean early on, and then dropped hints through the main action that Jean actually comes from a softer, more pudding-like background. I honestly don't think it matters at all, to
Lies
, how Jean got hard - I think most readers can happily accept that a life on the streets as a criminal will tend to make people either sneaky or fighty, regardless of their background.
My worry is that Lynch felt the need to dump all the backstory with Chains and the farmer-turned-toff and the farmer-who-ended-up-a-farmer-again because he's got this big backstory he wants to hint at which is suddenly going to becoming very relevant in the later novels, in a kind of "James Potter was mean to Snape at school" kind of way. And who's willing to bet that this is going to tie in with Long Lost Bint somehow?
Don't worry about the photo, I'd probably be saying the same sort of things about the novel even if Lynch looked like my beloved Wolfe - although it's a lot funnier knowing that Lynch looks like that. I do think it's a fun, likeable novel and worth reading for entertainment; most of my problems stem from my impression that Lynch wants us to think it's something more than that. Then again, maybe I've been spoiled by
Vlad Taltos
, who pushes similar buttons and whose writer looks like
the bastard son of Terry Pratchett and Frank Zappa
.
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Wardog
at 15:12 on 2007-11-15Jesus CHRIST! *faints*
Yeah, I think you might be right about Jean; I guess it depends how much we care that this stuff is going to become Meaningful later. JKR has soured me on that sort of thing forever.
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Arthur B
at 15:38 on 2007-11-15Is that you swooning before the dreamy gaze of Brust?
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Alice
at 22:21 on 2013-08-28Necro-ing this post, since I've finally gotten round to reading the book after finding the post via the random button.
I mostly more or less enjoyed it, in an "oh, must you really, Scott Lynch?" sort of way - I actually enjoyed the backstory parts more than the main plot, perhaps because while Lynch SUPER-UNSUBTLY wrote out Locke's love interest right from the beginning, at least he didn't have her murdered and delivered to her father in a barrel of horse urine in order to kick off the main plot.
(That was the bit that really made me roll my eyes and give up on enjoying the book in anything other than a superficial way. Lynch slightly redeems himself by having the head of the secret police be a badass old lady with a cane, but I really liked Nazca, I thought she was cool, so I was extra annoyed when she got fridged.)
I really like Jean Tannen, though, so part of me is tempted to at least give book 2 a go.
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Robinson L
at 15:30 on 2016-10-05Listened to this one on audiobook several months back, and enjoyed it as a fantasy heist/adventure yarn; it was quite fun. I hope it wasn't Lynch's intention for me to read any deeper meaning into it, because I really doubt it would hold up to that kind of scrutiny, and it would raise a bunch of awkward questions I don't think he's prepared to answer.
I was a bit disappointed by the ending, because the best bits of the book are generally when somebody is executing a masterful con: whereas Locke spends the last few chapters of
Lies
alternately pleading, cajoling, and punching his way to victory.
I guess I didn't mind too much Locke being both an authorial darling and a hyper-competent master criminal, because, as Arthur pointed out in his original comment, he regularly screws up, finds himself outsmarted or outmaneuvered, and generally gets the everloving shit kicked out of him and/or reduced to a blubbering wreck. For me, this was enough to make the balance tip over into “enjoyable” protagonist rather than “insufferable,” though I realize folks' mileage will vary.
I also really liked the character of Father Chains. The samey-ness of all the characters' dialogue has been brought up already, and I just kind of shrugged it off—however, even with that, I feel like Chains got in an inordinate amount of memorable lines. Also, for some reason, the character of a hard-cussin' scoundrel priest really appeals to me. (Technically, Locke is one, too, but his priestliness is kept mostly to the background.)
I was also disappointed they didn't wind up causing the death of the Bonds Mage (perhaps by accident). As arc plots go, “high class thieves on the run from an immensely powerful and vindictive wizards' guild” sounds pretty solid, and could justify the seven book length to show how our heroes go from fleecing the city's upper class to taking on said wizards' guild and winning.
Like Alice, I disliked that the book fridges Nazca in such an ignominious fashion to kick off the main plot, although I was somewhat mollified that the villain then proceeded to wipe out the rest of the Clan Barsavi in similarly brutal fashion, meaning she wasn't the One Big Death, she was just the first major casualty (plus, three quarters of Locke's chums, also all male, go down shortly thereafter). Again, though, I recognize not everyone is going to be satisfied with this, nor am I arguing they should be.
For whatever it means, in the third book, Nazca is the only member of the Barsavi family who Jean deems worthy of mentioning among the list of people they've lost when he's reeling it off to Locke.
Speaking of deaths, I was extremely relieved that Jean Tannen survived the Grey King's betrayal: Locke really needed a sidekick for the story to work, and Jean was easily the best of the lot. His friendship with Locke is great, and one of my favorite parts of the book was actually the flashback to when he first joined the crew, after Locke's initial attack of sibling rivalry, where Jean asks Locke to help him steal stuff he can use as a death offering for his deceased parents, and Locke asks Jean to help him learn how to use an abacus*. So cute.
*This after Father Chains uses Jean's superiority with an abacus to humiliate Locke and demonstrate why Jean is a useful addition to the crew.
So that part was good, and I didn't mind the other flashbacks so much, though I might have if I'd read through the book instead of listening to it on audio. What I did mind was Lynch dropping a chapter about the Spider tumbling to Locke's latest scheme and setting a trap for him right after the cliffhanger chapter where he's been thrown into the river in a barrel of horse urine and left for dead. First and most obviously because it's a transparently artificial way to hold off resolving said cliffhanger (unlike the flashbacks, which happen in every chapter); but second and also perniciously, because it sucked so much of the tension out of later scenes with Locke trying to reestablish his Lucas Fehrwight scam—the main source of tension was now “will Locke fall into the Spider's trap, and if so, how will he escape it?” so all the stuff with him stealing an appropriate set of clothes felt like so much wasted time before we got back to the next big story question. And that's also unfortunate because I think the clothing scam was actually one of the strongest parts of the book.
Speaking of which, I see what you mean about Locke being “irritatingly virtuous,” though I didn't mind it much, either. The only part which really got me was the way he immediately opted for saving all the high-bread toffs of Camorr at the risk of missing his chance for revenge against the Grey King. I get that he's supposed to be a noble rogue character, but that part struck me as too altruistic to fit his personality. I would expect him at least to be seriously tempted to leave the aristocrats to their fate while he goes and settles the score with the guy who murdered all but one of his best friends. But no, in his mind, it isn't even a choice, and I don't understand why.
I think it should be noted, though, that Locke also does some really screwed up shit which he's never really called on (a major reason I resist taking the books at all seriously). This is a case in point:
he drops an innocent waiter into the shit, he still takes time extract said waiter *and* give him a purse containing more money he's ever held in his life.
Well, yeah, but he *also* gets the poor sod permanently exiled from the only home he's ever had, presumably cut off from friends, family, everyone and everything he knows. Now, for some people, I suppose this could be the best opportunity of their lives—for others, it would be a kind of hell. For all we know, that waiter might well have committed suicide a couple years later, unable to cope with his life's circumstances.
Other crimes of Master Lamora which go unaddressed: murdering the Grey King's assassin after getting information out of him by shutting him up in a cellar and setting fire to it. True, the man had just killed one of his and Jean's best friends and was complicit the conspiracy to kill them all, but that's an incredibly cruel way to dispatch him.
And biggest of all, he manipulates the Camorri top brass into demolishing the Grey King's escape ship and consigning the ~15 person crew to what I also recall being described as a particularly horrible death. True, they were all the Grey King's lackeys, but they were just there to help him get away with the loot (and not to infect half the city with awful plague, as Locke claims), which hardly seems to make them deserving of such a grisly execution.
I let all this pass because I take the books in a “fun adventure” mindset; if I took them seriously, I'd be forced to conclude that Locke Lamora is a terrible person in ways the books themselves aren't prepared to explore.
A final note on the audiobook version: Michael Page is a great narrator, his voice nicely capturing the story's narrative style, and bringing the characters vividly to life. He also does a wonderful job with the various accents which come into play (mostly as one or another of Locke's characters for a heist), making them very distinct and memorable. Perhaps too memorable, for I'm sure I've caught him recycling a number of secondary voices and accents—he's no Jim Dale—but still an impressive accomplishment which I think utterly nails the tone of the series.
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horoscopesbygil · 7 years
Text
Horoscopes by Gil Hizon - Week of April 23 - 29, 2017
Error Code: Your Face
TAURUS (April 20 – May 20)
This week, it’ll seem like no matter what you do, there just ain’t no pleasing nobitches, amirite? You could be carrying the fountain of gay youth and you still won’t be allowed in the gayborhood, let alone the fucking courtyard. Do yourself a favor, dahling. Start pleasing yourself instead of other hos and when they start noticing that their shadiness ain’t affecting yo ass, they’ll start to come around. =====
GEMINI (May 21 – June 21)
I know that you’re Miss On-The-Go this week, but not everyone will be hip to your insane schedule. The more you expect that bitches will just adhere to your itinerary, the more disappointed you’ll become. Listen, gurr. I know that there’s lots to be done but calming the fuck down will enable you to see the entire layout of your week, and it’ll enable you to efficiently strategize how to get all your shit done. =====
CANCER (June 22 – July 22)
I’m just getting the sense that you’re not fully there. That you’re not completely applying yourself to the current tasks you’ve been assigned with. You are exhibiting a certain disenchantment with what’s happened in your life, and gurl, shit happens, okay? I’m fine with the moping but don’t let it go on for too long. At some point, you gotta get on with your fucking life. =====
LEO (July 23 – August 22)
Gurl, you didn’t think it was gonna happen this fast, amirite? You’ve been getting used to a certain mode of being emotionally alone and all of a sudden, some sickening bitch appears in your life and everything is alright again. I understand that the obvious reaction from you is to resist it for fear of being hurt. But trust that in this case, history might not repeat itself. =====
VIRGO (August 23 – September 22)
Another great opportunity is once again turning out to be a dud and frankly, you’re sick and tired of learning about how the real world works. You’re done with the lessons on life’s shit and it’s like, you get it, the universe can be fucking cruel, can we move on already? But think about how you would’ve reacted years ago. You would’ve felt crushed. But this new you is shitshow-proof more than ever. And for that, yo ass should be fucking proud. =====
LIBRA (September 23 – October 22)
When it comes to addiction, the biggest issues here are weakness and consideration for others. The fact that a person is able to control something but won’t do anything about it is not just a head scratcher; it’s just downright disappointing. In addition, if someone knows that their actions are hurting other people, and they’re still doing it? That’s just idiotic and nasty. =====
SCORPIO (October 23 – November 21)
Your choice of words regarding a matter this week can be downright polarizing; it can make you realize who your fucking allies really are. This could change the game, dearie, like in a big way. Whether or not that’s good or bad, it’s up to you. One thing’s for sure. You cannot NOT say anything. Because that would be the beginning of your demise, queen. =====
SAGITTARIUS (November 22 – December 21)
You’re just a homebody these days and with good reason. Being around people can only energize you for so long. Spending time with yourself for once can make you realize that there are some things you can still surprise yourself with. Don’t underestimate the power of solitude. Because of your adventurous, social nature, it can make you cray-cray, but introspection can also make you a fucking badass. =====
CAPRICORN (December 22 – January 19)
When you’re doing your shit out of order, it may throw a lot of bitches off. Letting them know beforehand that that’s what you’ve planned on doing all along can make you seem egotistical, like you expect all other bitches to be paying attention to whatchu been doing (or who you be doing). Gurl, you know what’s up. Only let other hos know if they ask. =====
AQUARIUS (January 20 – February 18)
There’s just too much orgasmic inspiration happening in your big brain that it’s enough to doubt yourself and your ties to reality. Although it seems like a lot of real world issues are fighting for your attention, this is just your brain safeguarding your fucking sanity. It’s okay to let go and be immersed in daydream, dearie. You can save every other ho another day. Right now, they don’t need you. You just think they do. =====
PISCES (February 19 – March 20)
Being a badass is not something one can learn. That shit is innate, my dear. So when you’re rushing through your week in your general badassery, don’t even think about stopping to doubt whether what you’re doing is enough. You fucking know that it is and more. Just keep kicking ass and let the rest of us worry about whether we’re good enough to hang with yo ass. =====
ARIES (March 21 – April 19)
So certain bitches have had it with you and your “friend.” There is some weird dynamic shit going on between the two of you and frankly, queens have enough confusion in their lives without trying to figure out if you two are fucking or not. Don’t flatter yourself either. Their only level of interest in your true dynamic with this ho has to do with how it affects their lives and how they’re supposed to behave around your asses. Stop being so vague because they just don’t have time for that shit. =====
(DISCLAIMER for all entries: This is all a shitshow!)
For more Horoscopes By Gil Hizon, click here, gurl!
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ampharos-writes · 4 years
Text
Memoir
Archivist’s Note: The text from the following statement is excerpted from a historical document - an old letter, discovered in the attic of a condemned home and delivered to the Institute for archiving and analysis. The contents of this letter should make it clear WHY it was entrusted into our care. Details regarding the “statement” have been filled in by institute staff.
Statement #9191101 Author’s Name: John Hawthorne Nature of Incident: The nature and circumstances of his death Date and Location: Letter dated November 1st, 1919; recovered from a home in Lexington, Virginia, USA on March 5th, 2020
Statement
Dearest Father,
I write these words to you, of course, knowing full well that there is no way that you will ever be able to read them. Once I was young and idealistic and believed in the great Kingdom of Heaven, but over the course of my life and the events that have transpired within I have become convinced that God and His Kingdom are nothing but the wishful thinking of so many hopeful fools atop this doomed rock, and that all that awaits us at the conclusion of our time upon it is an eternity of cold unfeeling nothingness, a sheer black Void which at the end of our days does consume all that once lived and breathed and grew and flourished and prospered and withered and faded and died.
You must forgive me, as I am getting ahead of myself. No, I am of course aware that you cannot read these words, but in writing them I am perhaps hoping for one last shred of blissful hope myself, one last tiny morsel of catharsis, as I feel my own time drawing near, and I cannot help but dread it down to the deepest part of my soul.
Have you ever died, father? I suppose that’s a foolish question. A better one might be, “Do you know what it feels like to die?”, as I imagine that at this current juncture you’re much incapable of knowing much of anything at all.
I know what it feels like to die. I know it all too well.
I knew it first when Tom and I ran and played by the old creek, when play-fighting turned decidedly more real, when rough hands shoved my lighter frame down into the rushing rapids and a hidden stone lodged itself deep within the back of my skull, when blood rushed out of my head and water rushed into my lungs, when everything went white with pain and then black with nothing, and I was no more.
And then I wasn’t. I woke up the next day, half-blinded by pain, too stiff to move. The poor doctor hovering inches above me blanched as if he’d seen a ghost, and perhaps he had. I remember him shakily asking me to roll over, remember laying on my side for what felt like forever, listening to him hem and haw and poke and prod and examine and ask “does this hurt?” (yes) and “how do you feel?” (bad) and eventually clear his throat and wander off.
Behind a door they thought was thicker than it was, I heard the doctor discussing in hushed tones with mother. He said that I was bleeding much less than I should have been, that the wound looked much cleaner, that I should make a full recovery after copious bedrest. I remember my mother saying that it must have been a miracle, that we had all truly been blessed. I do not believe anything could be further from the truth.
I know that you knew nothing of these events, father, as mother decided that she would rather not worry you, nor did she wish to inspire anger towards Tom, for both she and I knew that what had happened was not his intent, and that his crying at my bedside for the entirety of my confinement was proof enough of that. I must belatedly apologize for this deception, and further admit that while it was the first, it was certainly not the last.
I recall the first time Tom died, too, though I obviously know not what went through his head during the events that transpired. What I DO know is that his recovery from that illness he underwent as a teenager was not nearly as ordinary as we both convinced the hapless physician overseeing him to tell you that it was. In truth, Tom could have, should have, and did in fact pass away from his disease, but the unfeeling end rejected him as it had me, and his condition improved rapidly with no scientific or medical explanation to back it.
Admittedly, as young men this did contribute to our more… reckless endeavors. How could it not have? I know you saw us both as foolhardy braggarts keen to rush into danger for even the slightest chance at glory, but it was all an act, for neither of us relished the thought of fighting an overseer we never knew for a country we barely cared about. No, it was not brashness that drove us to enlist when the minutemen came calling, but a grim sense of duty. We had each died once or twice more by then, enough to know that for whatever reason our lives refused to be cut short, and we felt a moral obligation to harness this towards a purpose that, for whatever reason, people seemed to believe to be righteous and true.
I fell but once in the battles that ensued, to a bayonet wound that grew gangrenous. I hid my discomfort from the others in my regiment, of course; I imagined it would be more tolerable to fight through the pain for the few days I had remaining than it would be to explain away the aftermath of such a wound. Tom claims to have fallen three times, but I was only personally witness to two of them: a musket ball right between his eyes, and a dozen horses briefly reducing him to a tattered facsimile of a human being, before he opened his eyes and quite literally put himself together.
He was always the more brazen of us, Tom was. I was ever-cautious, equal parts humbled by our apparent gift and fearful that it might one day fail us. Tom was under no such compunctions, and after receiving a taste for danger in that great war for freedom he remained something of a frontiersman and a daredevil, constantly venturing out into the wilderness with nothing but his old musket and a canteen.
You knew all of this, of course, just as you knew that I settled down and attempted to put the past behind me, to make something of a normal life. Tom and I stayed in touch, of course, but I have no idea how many times he perished on his expeditions, and that was perfectly fine by me. I had steady employment and a family to look after. The prospect of pushing my luck in a manner such that he had was completely antithetical to my entire nature.
Of course, all the caution in the world is useless against the ravages of our TRUE father. One can evade death as many times as they wish, but their body shall nevertheless weaken and wither with age, their once-bright eyes growing dimmer, their once-proud posture stooping ever lower, their once-unending vigor suddenly draining away with every step they take, until finally they are no more. Ironically enough it was I who father time came for first, as Tom was evidently in better physical condition than I and remained spry well past the age of 80. You and mother were of course long gone by this point, and my sons had both been killed in the second British war, so the only people I had left to comfort me were Elizabeth and Tom.
Both were with me as I lay in bed, too exhausted to move and barely alert enough to speak. Both were with me as my hands dropped from theirs, as the blankets began to feel as if they were enveloping my very soul, as the world began to go dark. Both were with me as faint whispers danced on the edges of my hearing, bearing secrets I could not hear and would not comprehend, as the edges of my mouth crept upwards into a smile, and my eyes finally allowed themselves to close.
Of course, given that I’m here to tell of it, you may correctly assume that this was not the end of my story, and indeed my eyes did not remain shut for long, as the gentle warmth I bore within me suddenly swelled into a searing inferno, sending shooting stabs of agony into every fiber of my being, and my eyes snapped open, and I screamed. It lasted an eternity. It was over in an instant. It matters not. The concept of time itself, I have come to conclude, is as vague and fluid as anything else we like to assume we know about this world. 
Whatever the case, what had started did in fact stop at some point, and the first thing I noticed was that I felt… different. Different, but not unfamiliar. It took me a moment to pinpoint what exactly this feeling was: I felt strong. Able. More able than I had in a long time.
I looked at my hands. Gone were the folds and spots of age. Here were the hands of a young man, able to do the powerful work necessary for a young man to succeed in this life. The same was true everywhere I looked, everywhere I examined upon my person. I hadn’t just died. I had been reborn.
My dear sweet Elizabeth had fainted, of course, and poor Tom was too busy gaping at me to help her. We got her into a chair and got her some water, and after confirming that she was still of sound mind and that I wasn’t some demon or malevolent spirit, we explained to her all that had brought us to this point. I didn’t expect her to believe me, but… perhaps there are some miracles in this world.
It was an… odd next few years. Tom had all but moved in with us, waiting for his OWN rebirth, which none of us had any reason to disbelieve would be coming. Elizabeth and I remained madly in love, of course, but there was this strange sort of distance that had cropped up. I would occasionally catch her staring at me with a look that I couldn’t quite place, or shooting glances at Tom that were outright hostile. I of course attempted to make inquiries about the nature of this, but was repeatedly rebuffed, as she insisted that of course everything was fine, and that I was worrying far too much, and should be enjoying my newfound youth. This prospect, frankly speaking, was tempting enough that I tended to agree with her, and spared little thought to my previous concerns.
The darkest day of my life dawned bright and cold. Winter was fast upon us, and Tom had been up before the sun in an attempt to fetch some firewood. Personally, I suspected that he was intentionally trying to wear himself out, in an effort to speed up his own rebirth, but I saw no reason to try to stop him. Elizabeth was already out of bed when I awoke, and I contented myself to simply lay atop the sheets and enjoy the gentle rays creeping in through the window, listening to the love of my life puttering around in the kitchen. In a moment of weakness, I permitted myself to slip into a bit of a flight of fancy, imagining that my lifelong connection with this woman had perhaps extended my curse to her as well, and that she too would be reborn, for us to jointly enjoy a life eternal. It would be… nice.
My daydreaming was interrupted by a terrible, gut-wrenching scream.
I’ll admit to only remembering flashes of the rest of the day. The shock of an event so terrible would do that to anyone, I think. I recall bolting from bed and running through the house. I remember Elizabeth, lying on the ground, her blood pooling atop her chest where a pale and trembling hand still clutched the kitchen knife. I remember the look on her face, equal parts anger and melancholy and regret. I remember she said something as the last of her life slipped away, but I don’t remember if I replied.
I don’t remember Tom returning home, but he must have. I assume he would have found me still standing there, just… looking at her. I don’t remember him guiding me out the door or across town to his own modest lodgings, though I do have vague images of his own rebirth a few short days later. His face was much the same as I recalled it, though tinged with the unmistakable wisdom of age.
To this day, I don’t know why she did it.
The next few years passed in a blur. There wasn’t much I wanted to do except drink and mope, and Tom was of no mind to stop me from doing so. They say that time heals all wounds, but I think that gives time too much credit. I find that wounds deep enough will always leave a scar - enough that you’re not actively bleeding out, but still weaker than the surrounding area, and cementing the memory of the events that created it deep within one’s psyche. So after a few years of my sullen stupor, the wound did indeed began to scar, and I attempted to figure out what I was going to do with what appeared to be my now-unending life.
Of course, at this point Tom and I lapsed into the hedonism one would expect of any two men in their physical primes who believed themselves to have truly and permanently cheated death. We drank, gambled, traveled, hunted, partook in all sorts of activities that sane men would have balked at a hundred times over. Tom fought for the south on a lark, the smug bastard, and you’d be fool to believe that I haven’t lorded our victory over him ever since. We performed odd jobs when we needed money and lived like vagrants when we didn’t. For the first time in my afterlife, I felt like I was truly living.
It was when the Grand Columbian Exposition came to town that we finally learned more of the nature of our situation. Not from the event itself, of course; the nature of our anomalous qualities bears only a tenuous connection to what most people know to be reality, and thus an exposition of such prestige would nary venture to go near exploring it. The prestige and attention that the event brought to Chicago, however, brought with it a fair number of hangers-on hoping to absorb some of the prosperity they figured would be in fair abundance, and it was in the dimly-lit stall of one such vendor that we sought our wisdom.
She claimed to be an oracle from the slopes of Olympus, able to divine the threads of fate and feel out their general trajectory both past and present. Of course, I assumed this was all fairly nonsense - though it was fairly plain that she was at least telling the truth about her Mediterranean origins - but it had been Tom’s idea, and we had nothing better to do. I recall jokingly confiding in Tom that our cover was about to be blown. As it turns out, I was right.
There was no crystal ball, no light show, no smoke and spectacle. She simply sat us down at a small table and stared, hard, at the both of us, fingertips slowly tracing lines we could neither see nor feel. A heavy stillness filled the air, and despite it being a warm summer’s day I suddenly felt very, very cold. When she finally spoke, it was as if she was looking right through me, and I realized with a start that she was very clearly blind.
“Never have I seen the strands of fate so closely intertwined. When one strand is cut, the other patches the gap, until both are so thoroughly entangled that they cannot progress any further. Fate shall not continue Her weaving unless one severs the knot.”
Her voice reverberated through my ears, their meaning clear as day. I shakily slapped a bill down on the table and the two of us fled into the now-too-bright afternoon.
So this is the crux of my tale, father. While Tom lives I cannot die, and the reverse is true as well. We were born together, have lived together, and must die together. Confident as we were at the time, we believed this fate avoidable, and easily so: we would simply have each other’s backs, protecting each other from dangerous circumstances, and we would be fine. Given that this was how we had been living anyways, it seemed almost trivially simple to continue to wind our knot.
But these are curious times, father. The Great War came and went, and out of an abundance of caution neither of us served, but it may spell the end of us anyways. We learned of the Black Plague in the schoolhouse, of course, but this isn’t that. This is something far more insidious. It doesn’t make itself evident with boils and pustules and the overpowering smell of rot and decay. It begins as a common cold, one that simply refuses to go away, that buckles down and ingrains its presence within its host, until it simply saps the life out of them. Dehydration, starvation, breathing problems - no matter the method, the end result is the same. And it’s the one outcome where having each other’s backs may have done more harm than good.
As I write this, Tom lays in the bed next to me, his forehead slick with sweat, his sleep restless, his breathing shallow. My own hand trembles as I write, and were I not writing to a man over a hundred years deceased I would fear for the legibility of it all. I can feel the plague doing its insidious work all throughout my body. Everything hurts, and I know that it will not stop hurting until the end, and that this time it truly will be THE end.
I would say that I lived without regrets, but Tom has always been better at deceiving you than I have. If I am wrong about everything, don’t bother to pass on my regards, as I shall give them myself. If I am right...  well, I could do with a rest.
Forever Yours, John
Statement
Historical documents tend to be very, very good at piquing my interest, but this one has been a bit of a dead end. Public record keeping tends to be rather haphazard this far back, and the name Hawthorne is a bit too common in colonial America to truly be of any use. Beyond verifying that the letter truly is as old as it claims to be, there’s little we can do here.
I DID ask Lissa to speak with the man who delivered this, a Mr. Nathan Finch. He read the letter and claimed no knowledge of any family or acquaintances by the name Hawthorne, though he admitted that his mother, one Persephone Theopoulos, had passed away when he was young, and that he knew little to nothing about that side of his family.
It’s worth noting that Mr. Finch discovered the letter through his work with the American Historical Society, and has no personal connection to Lexington, Virginia or the house therein. He himself resides in Chicago, Illinois.
-Amy A. Ampharos, Head Archivist June 1, 2020
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itsfinancethings · 4 years
Link
(WASHINGTON) — Anxious to spur an economic recovery without risking lives, President Donald Trump insists that “you can satisfy both” — see states gradually lift lockdowns while also protecting people from the coronavirus pandemic that has killed more than 66,000 Americans.
The president, fielding questions from Americans Sunday night in a virtual town hall from the Lincoln Memorial, acknowledged valid fears on both sides of the issue. Some people are worried about getting sick; others are reeling from lost jobs and livelihoods.
But while Trump increased his projection for the total U.S. death total to 80,000 or 90,000 — up by more than 20,000 fatalities from what he had suggested just a few weeks ago — he struck a note of urgency to restart the nation’s economy, declaring “we have to reopen our country.”
“We have to get it back open safely but as quickly as possible,” Trump said.
After more than a month of being cooped up at the White House, Trump returned from a weekend at the Camp David presidential retreat in Maryland for the virtual town hall hosted by Fox News Channel.
The president said of his monumental backdrop: “We never had a more beautiful set than this.”
As concerns mount about his reelection bid, Trump stuck to his relentlessly optimistic view of the nation’s ability to rebound soon.
“It is all working out,” Trump said. “It is horrible to go through, but it is working out.”
Many public health experts believe the nation cannot safely reopen fully until a vaccine is developed. Trump declared Sunday that he believed one could be available by year’s end.
U.S. public health officials have said a vaccine is probably a year to 18 months away. But Dr. Anthony Fauci, the nation’s leading expert on infectious diseases and member of the White House coronavirus task force, said in late April that it is conceivable, if a vaccine is soon developed, that it could be in wide distribution as early as January.
Though the administration’s handling of the pandemic, particularly its ability to conduct widespread testing, has come under fierce scrutiny, the president tried to shift the blame to China and said the U.S. was ready to begin reopening.
“I’ll tell you one thing. We did the right thing and I really believe we saved a million and a half lives,” the president said. But he also broke with the assessment of his senior adviser and son-in-law, Jared Kushner, saying it was “too soon to say” the federal government had overseen a “success story.”
Trump’s impatience also flashed. While noting that states would go at their own pace in returning to normal, with ones harder hit by the coronavirus going slower, he said that “some states, frankly, I think aren’t going fast enough.” He singled out Virginia, which has a Democratic governor and legislature. And he urged the nation’s schools and universities to return to classes this fall.
Federal guidelines that encouraged people to stay at home and practice social distancing expired late last week.
Debate continued over moves by governors to start reopening state economies that tanked after shopping malls, salons and other nonessential businesses were ordered closed in attempt to slow a virus that has killed more than 66,000 Americans, according to a tally of reported deaths by Johns Hopkins University.
The U.S. economy has suffered, shrinking at a 4.8% annual rate from January through March, the government estimated last week. And roughly 30.3 million people have filed for unemployment aid in the six weeks since the outbreak forced employers to shut down and slash their workforces.
The president’s advisers have nervously watched Trump’s support slip in a number of battleground states and he was told last month that if the election were held that day, he would lose to Democrat Joe Biden. The president’s aides believe restarting the economy, even with its health risks, is essential to a victory in November and are pushing for him to pivot away from discussions about the pandemic and onto an American comeback story.
To that end, Trump will begin traveling again, with a trip to a mask factory in Arizona planned for Tuesday. The president also is set to speak in June at commencement for the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. Returning to campus for commencement will require graduates to self-isolate for 14 days, but Trump insisted the event poses no risk to the cadets.
The town hall, which included an appearance by Vice President Mike Pence, included a rare mea culpa: The vice president said he should have worn a facemask during a visit last week to Minnesota’s Mayo Clinic. Pence’s failure to wear a mask violated the clinic’s guidelines and drew significant criticism.
Elsewhere in Washington, the Senate planned to reopen Monday, despite the area’s continued status as a virus hot spot and with the region still under stay-at-home orders. The House remains shuttered as debate continues on what the next stage of the economic recovery may look like.
State and local governments are seeking up to $1 trillion in coronavirus costs, which has been met with some objections by congressional Republicans.
Trump said that while he thought common ground could be found with Democrats over an infrastructure package, “we’re not doing anything unless we get a payroll tax cut. That is so important to the success of our country.”
That proposal has been met with objections from both parties.
The leaders of California and Michigan are among governors under public pressure over lockdowns still in effect while states such as Florida, Georgia and Ohio are reopening.
Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer, a Democrat, said Sunday that the armed protesters who demonstrated inside her state’s Capitol “depicted some of the worst racism” and “awful parts” of U.S. history by showing up with Confederate flags, nooses and swastikas.
Trump on Sunday night singled out Whitmer and Washington Gov. Jay Inslee, also a Democrat, for criticism even as he praised the federal coordination with most governors. He also complained that some Democrats would rather “people get sick” than given him any credit for pushing the use of a malaria drug for treating COVID-19, though it has not been proven to be safe and effective for that use.
___
Lemire reported from New York.
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michaeljtraylor · 5 years
Text
Ramblings from my latest Minimum Spend rush
I’ve happily moved away from almost all manufactured spend, but recently found myself with a somewhat pressing need to meet some hefty minimums.  I learned some good lessons here, that perhaps will help.  One thing I’ll suggest is that if you’re currently happy with doing giftcards/money orders or have some other gigs running, it might be harder to get onboard with what I’ve been up to, so put it in the someday/maybe file.
Need Requirements
Before Spend Requirements was need.  I needed 6 nights (2 nights then 4 nights) of hotels (nice ones, because I’m valuing vacation time very highly right now) and I also needed to finish a full $1K of spend on a recent AS card application (acquired with pure speculation in mind).
Spend Requirements
I identified a great SPG property that was 10K per night ($380 cash price) that worked for the first two nights. $5K Spend
I identified a 5 star hilton for 50K per night, or a 4 star DoubleTree for 20K per night.  Haven’t decided on which one I will go for yet. $3K Spend.
That AS card.. $1K Spend
All in, $9K spend required, and I need it fast because I want the hotels locked in.. we’re talking first 1-2 weeks of card ownership to hit these.
The Strategy
I held both the SPG and AS card ($6k Spend) for a week or so before executing spend.  This allowed me to finish off spend on the other AS card I got (His/Hers) before focusing on the next ones.  I decided that I would use a recent (future at the time) cruise to meet min spend, unfortunately I didn’t identify and execute the Hilton points (100K Surpass offer) until a day or so before departure, so it didn’t come along for the ride.
As an aside, I try to work on a dual ‘Speculative Points’ like the AS ones, and ‘Target Points’ like the SPG ones wherever possible. This is a shift from where I was something in a lull and avoided all speculative applications.
Paying a Premium
After several years, and 11 free cruises, I’m starting to fall out of favor with NCL. The swine.  For the first time, they set me at a tier level that doesn’t include free casino advances.  I tried to quickly engineer that, and have them re-evaluate, but didn’t like the attitude of the person I was working with, and rather than ‘HUCA’ them I decided to just ignore the loss and grab a Margarita and hit the pool instead. That cruise the casino still gave me $200 of free money in addition to the cruise, so whatevs.
I put the SPG card as the credit card on file for the cruise (this one scoops up all expenses) and pulled out about $6K from the Casino at 3%.  I then visited the front desk of the cruise and asked to make a partial payment of $1K on the AS card.  All in, $180 to meet the spend, in exchange for straight cash.
I’d lie if I said it was instant.  The line in the cruise front desk is akin to walmart, albeit a little shorter, but the key difference being that I was able to sip on a Pina Colada while waiting in it.
First Lesson
Paying cash to meet spend, at $30 per $1,000 makes you appreciate that the amount of min spend required to trigger a bonus matters.  It was starkly obvious when dealing with the extremes of a $5K card and a $1K card. I do wonder if I would have noticed this difference if both cards were at $3K. Previously, when MSing it’s something I’ve never really cared about at the $0-$5K min spend levels, but it does make a difference in both cost and time.  For the MSer’s, many times you cannot buy either the GC or the MO at that level in a single transaction, but you ignore that you are doing multiple trips to make spend because it is ‘free’.
The fee for gaining 30,000 SPG (25+spend of 5) was $150.  This means that my hotel cost $75 per night, and I have 10k leftover. 10K SPG is a solid night ‘somewhere’ but I still value these as ‘orphaned points’ because I have no pressing need for them right now.
Luckily for me year 1 fee is waived, but frankly, if the card had $95 fee attached too, I would have still spent $245 for the bonus because it involved such a low level of friction to my daily routine. However, it reinforces that ‘travel is rarely free’ and instead pushes the notion of ‘deeply discounted’.  I think that the willing acceptance to pay $150 to gain the bonus, vs run around town with giftcards and money orders is a big step.
My takeaway from this is that I’m more than happy to pay $150 (or $245) for the two nights in the hotel that I wanted, even if I could have spent about $30 to do it for free, via several visits to Walmart…
Fancy enough for $75 a night, and I’m a loyal SPG Gold, don’t you know?
So my first lesson is that min spending even with a 3% surcharge is a good deal for me.  
The next step of that was the Altitude Reserve.. while I didn’t do it this trip (more out of laziness than anything) I’m also happy to ‘Invest’ in Altitude Reserve points, with some caveats….
An Altitude Reserve point is worth 1.5 cents, and earned at 3x on travel.  Therefore, even without chasing a bonus, paying $30 for $45 of hotel travel is a good deal to me.  It is an investment, because I would move asset class from cash, to funny money. I would hesitate to do this too far into the future speculatively due to the risk that the Altitude Reserve is not backed by Silver, like the USD, but I would move in a certain amount of points in order to cover my immediate 6-12 month travel.
Back from the Cruise
Two cards down, but $3K on the Hilton Surpass to go and a goal of 7 days to meet spend.  My first thought was Kiva.  I like using Kiva for lazy ‘MS’ it has no fee to fund, but it has two downsides: 
Risk of Loss (I lose money on Kiva, but it still has worked out less than 3% via luck and diversification.
Time to repay (lock up of float for 6 months or longer has a price, vs getting cash from Walmart which can actually work out as a free loan..)
My mind went then to the IRS.  I expect another refund this year, and we haven’t paid any tax yet so in theory I could give them a loan and get it back.  I generally don’t advise messing with the IRS though, and like Kiva, it has two downsides:
A fixed fee to fund via credits card (less risk of loss, more guarantee of loss)
Time to repay (3 months vs 6 months, but still a lockup period)
Then I started thinking ‘outside the box’…
Second Lesson
After a while, It can be very easy to forget about real spend.  Personally, for the last 2-3 years I’ve been doing min spend in 1 transaction in most cases, but since my time became limited, and options closed, things have changed. I rarely think about using a card for ‘real spend’ as I have a few that I use for this. With fewer options, I started looking around for real expenses that were close, and see if I could ‘Forward Shift’. I managed to apply about $1400 here via reimbursed business expenses. I generally avoid this also, because it is a PITA to track, but since the year is almost over, and I have good accounting software, I went for it.  
In addition, I was able to look forward to November/December and find items like our Car insurance payment, and was able to send in the funds a bit early.
In terms of a relatable example, Resellers have a great option here, because if you buy $1K of inventory on a personal card, you can reimburse it instantly, even if it takes 6 months or more to sell.  For me, it was mainly licenses and renewals for various professional organizations.
One thing that caught me was ‘Swap Spending’ or the destruction of priority. With this, I mean that when my goal is 100% fixated on meeting $3K spend naturally, without ‘wasting’ 3% on a transaction fee, or locking up money for the IRS, I would forget the opportunity of the transaction.
The Surpass was a bad example of this, because it offers some multipliers for Dining and Supermarkets, but I would typically use a OBC for Supermarkets (not MSing) for 5% and at least 2x to 3x points Dining card (TYP Premier, or other) those points further being uplifted by 25% or more at spend stage.
The lesson I picked up here was that by shifting natural/organic spend to the card of the day, slipping a $100 grocery bill onto the new card vs the 5% card came at a cost.  Often times that cost could be 3%, if you value the points (not the bonus) at 2%.  So it might be better to stick with the old 5% transaction, and pay 3% out of pocket to build the $3K minimum.
Interestingly, the Surpass could be a good argument for, or against this lesson. On the one hand, at 6x you could argue a full $3000 of Grocery spend being valued at 18,000 could be another night, or almost two, if you can find a property that fits.  Alternatively, you might find that 18,000 points are orphaned in your account for years, and have no value.
So what did I learn?
I’m fine paying 3% transactions fees. I’d pay more than 3% if I can profit.
I like profit.
I’m OK with fancy hotels.
Even if all MS dies, right now we’re looking at perhaps a 50% uplift from certain programs, which in some alternative universe, or dystopian future, is still epic. Especially if it involves less work than the glory days.
  (PS the USD dollar is fiat currency, it is backed by the US Government, which is supposed to be more stable than the Altitude Reserve, but who knows…)
(PPS I now get all my referrals, wherever possible, from fellow humans. For a while I tried to support a few blogs that I like, but I really think that there’s a nice touch in getting a personal referral, so thanks to Amol for the SPG and to Brandon for the Surpass)
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garkomedia1 · 5 years
Text
Ramblings from my latest Minimum Spend rush
I’ve happily moved away from almost all manufactured spend, but recently found myself with a somewhat pressing need to meet some hefty minimums.  I learned some good lessons here, that perhaps will help.  One thing I’ll suggest is that if you’re currently happy with doing giftcards/money orders or have some other gigs running, it might be harder to get onboard with what I’ve been up to, so put it in the someday/maybe file.
Need Requirements
Before Spend Requirements was need.  I needed 6 nights (2 nights then 4 nights) of hotels (nice ones, because I’m valuing vacation time very highly right now) and I also needed to finish a full $1K of spend on a recent AS card application (acquired with pure speculation in mind).
Spend Requirements
I identified a great SPG property that was 10K per night ($380 cash price) that worked for the first two nights. $5K Spend
I identified a 5 star hilton for 50K per night, or a 4 star DoubleTree for 20K per night.  Haven’t decided on which one I will go for yet. $3K Spend.
That AS card.. $1K Spend
All in, $9K spend required, and I need it fast because I want the hotels locked in.. we’re talking first 1-2 weeks of card ownership to hit these.
The Strategy
I held both the SPG and AS card ($6k Spend) for a week or so before executing spend.  This allowed me to finish off spend on the other AS card I got (His/Hers) before focusing on the next ones.  I decided that I would use a recent (future at the time) cruise to meet min spend, unfortunately I didn’t identify and execute the Hilton points (100K Surpass offer) until a day or so before departure, so it didn’t come along for the ride.
As an aside, I try to work on a dual ‘Speculative Points’ like the AS ones, and ‘Target Points’ like the SPG ones wherever possible. This is a shift from where I was something in a lull and avoided all speculative applications.
Paying a Premium
After several years, and 11 free cruises, I’m starting to fall out of favor with NCL. The swine.  For the first time, they set me at a tier level that doesn’t include free casino advances.  I tried to quickly engineer that, and have them re-evaluate, but didn’t like the attitude of the person I was working with, and rather than ‘HUCA’ them I decided to just ignore the loss and grab a Margarita and hit the pool instead. That cruise the casino still gave me $200 of free money in addition to the cruise, so whatevs.
I put the SPG card as the credit card on file for the cruise (this one scoops up all expenses) and pulled out about $6K from the Casino at 3%.  I then visited the front desk of the cruise and asked to make a partial payment of $1K on the AS card.  All in, $180 to meet the spend, in exchange for straight cash.
I’d lie if I said it was instant.  The line in the cruise front desk is akin to walmart, albeit a little shorter, but the key difference being that I was able to sip on a Pina Colada while waiting in it.
First Lesson
Paying cash to meet spend, at $30 per $1,000 makes you appreciate that the amount of min spend required to trigger a bonus matters.  It was starkly obvious when dealing with the extremes of a $5K card and a $1K card. I do wonder if I would have noticed this difference if both cards were at $3K. Previously, when MSing it’s something I’ve never really cared about at the $0-$5K min spend levels, but it does make a difference in both cost and time.  For the MSer’s, many times you cannot buy either the GC or the MO at that level in a single transaction, but you ignore that you are doing multiple trips to make spend because it is ‘free’.
The fee for gaining 30,000 SPG (25+spend of 5) was $150.  This means that my hotel cost $75 per night, and I have 10k leftover. 10K SPG is a solid night ‘somewhere’ but I still value these as ‘orphaned points’ because I have no pressing need for them right now.
Luckily for me year 1 fee is waived, but frankly, if the card had $95 fee attached too, I would have still spent $245 for the bonus because it involved such a low level of friction to my daily routine. However, it reinforces that ‘travel is rarely free’ and instead pushes the notion of ‘deeply discounted’.  I think that the willing acceptance to pay $150 to gain the bonus, vs run around town with giftcards and money orders is a big step.
My takeaway from this is that I’m more than happy to pay $150 (or $245) for the two nights in the hotel that I wanted, even if I could have spent about $30 to do it for free, via several visits to Walmart…
Fancy enough for $75 a night, and I’m a loyal SPG Gold, don’t you know?
So my first lesson is that min spending even with a 3% surcharge is a good deal for me.  
The next step of that was the Altitude Reserve.. while I didn’t do it this trip (more out of laziness than anything) I’m also happy to ‘Invest’ in Altitude Reserve points, with some caveats….
An Altitude Reserve point is worth 1.5 cents, and earned at 3x on travel.  Therefore, even without chasing a bonus, paying $30 for $45 of hotel travel is a good deal to me.  It is an investment, because I would move asset class from cash, to funny money. I would hesitate to do this too far into the future speculatively due to the risk that the Altitude Reserve is not backed by Silver, like the USD, but I would move in a certain amount of points in order to cover my immediate 6-12 month travel.
Back from the Cruise
Two cards down, but $3K on the Hilton Surpass to go and a goal of 7 days to meet spend.  My first thought was Kiva.  I like using Kiva for lazy ‘MS’ it has no fee to fund, but it has two downsides: 
Risk of Loss (I lose money on Kiva, but it still has worked out less than 3% via luck and diversification.
Time to repay (lock up of float for 6 months or longer has a price, vs getting cash from Walmart which can actually work out as a free loan..)
My mind went then to the IRS.  I expect another refund this year, and we haven’t paid any tax yet so in theory I could give them a loan and get it back.  I generally don’t advise messing with the IRS though, and like Kiva, it has two downsides:
A fixed fee to fund via credits card (less risk of loss, more guarantee of loss)
Time to repay (3 months vs 6 months, but still a lockup period)
Then I started thinking ‘outside the box’…
Second Lesson
After a while, It can be very easy to forget about real spend.  Personally, for the last 2-3 years I’ve been doing min spend in 1 transaction in most cases, but since my time became limited, and options closed, things have changed. I rarely think about using a card for ‘real spend’ as I have a few that I use for this. With fewer options, I started looking around for real expenses that were close, and see if I could ‘Forward Shift’. I managed to apply about $1400 here via reimbursed business expenses. I generally avoid this also, because it is a PITA to track, but since the year is almost over, and I have good accounting software, I went for it.  
In addition, I was able to look forward to November/December and find items like our Car insurance payment, and was able to send in the funds a bit early.
In terms of a relatable example, Resellers have a great option here, because if you buy $1K of inventory on a personal card, you can reimburse it instantly, even if it takes 6 months or more to sell.  For me, it was mainly licenses and renewals for various professional organizations.
One thing that caught me was ‘Swap Spending’ or the destruction of priority. With this, I mean that when my goal is 100% fixated on meeting $3K spend naturally, without ‘wasting’ 3% on a transaction fee, or locking up money for the IRS, I would forget the opportunity of the transaction.
The Surpass was a bad example of this, because it offers some multipliers for Dining and Supermarkets, but I would typically use a OBC for Supermarkets (not MSing) for 5% and at least 2x to 3x points Dining card (TYP Premier, or other) those points further being uplifted by 25% or more at spend stage.
The lesson I picked up here was that by shifting natural/organic spend to the card of the day, slipping a $100 grocery bill onto the new card vs the 5% card came at a cost.  Often times that cost could be 3%, if you value the points (not the bonus) at 2%.  So it might be better to stick with the old 5% transaction, and pay 3% out of pocket to build the $3K minimum.
Interestingly, the Surpass could be a good argument for, or against this lesson. On the one hand, at 6x you could argue a full $3000 of Grocery spend being valued at 18,000 could be another night, or almost two, if you can find a property that fits.  Alternatively, you might find that 18,000 points are orphaned in your account for years, and have no value.
So what did I learn?
I’m fine paying 3% transactions fees. I’d pay more than 3% if I can profit.
I like profit.
I’m OK with fancy hotels.
Even if all MS dies, right now we’re looking at perhaps a 50% uplift from certain programs, which in some alternative universe, or dystopian future, is still epic. Especially if it involves less work than the glory days.
    (PS the USD dollar is fiat currency, it is backed by the US Government, which is supposed to be more stable than the Altitude Reserve, but who knows…)
(PPS I now get all my referrals, wherever possible, from fellow humans. For a while I tried to support a few blogs that I like, but I really think that there’s a nice touch in getting a personal referral, so thanks to Amol for the SPG and to Brandon for the Surpass)
  The post Ramblings from my latest Minimum Spend rush appeared first on Saverocity Travel.
* This article was originally published here
from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8312273 https://proshoppingservice.com/ramblings-from-my-latest-minimum-spend-rush/
0 notes