#how it looked as if she had wings. abrams words. the line from one story that was--

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Emperor Palpatine

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

There are villains. There are memes about villains. There are villains who are memes. And then, high above all of them, sitting on a lofty throne all his own, is Emperor Sheev Palpatine, a character so insanely incredible that it’s frankly quite baffling that even George Lucas at his worst still couldn’t make him awful… No, that was good old J.J. Abrams. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Palpatine is pretty much the archetype for the evil emperor in modern fiction, a mysterious evil sorcerer in dark robes who commands the main villain from afar and contains power beyond anything thought possible. But what’s interesting to note is that Palpatine really has three distinct eras to him: the original trilogy, where he was basically an outside context last minute threat who only had a presence in the third act of Return of the Jedi; the prequel trilogy, which is his best showing and where the Sheev we’ve all come to known and love really got to spread his wings and fly; and finally, the sequel era, the worst showing of Palpatine hands down, where he is randomly slapped into a film with no foreshadowing or buildup to pander to nostalgia.

So let’s take a look at our old pal Sheevy and see what makes him one of the greatest villains of all time, and one of the worst.

Motivation/Goals: Palpatine is motivated by one thing, and one thing only:

He spends the entire prequel trilogy building this up, working behind the scenes and manipulating both sides of the Clone Wars to his advantage so he can be given more and more political power. This works out beautifully for him, allowing him to dispose of his pawns like Dooku, take over the senate, seize absolute power, amass an army of clones, and of course execute Order 66. But most importantly, he is able to manipulate the frustrated and hurting Anakin to his side, mostly because the Jedi are a bunch of bumbling, archaic morons who put so much restrictions and belittle him so much that this creepy, predatory man is able to feed into his insecurities and send him tumbling to the Dark Side.

In the original trilogy, Palpatine is pretty content with letting Vader handle the affairs of the Empire, at least until Luke shows up and the Rebels become a substantial threat. Once the time comes, he has Luke and Vader get together and puts them up against each other, thinking the outcome is either that he gets a new apprentice/keeps his old one in check, or corrupts Luke somehow into killing his father and joining him as the new Sith. He didn’t count on Vader turning, but ah well.

The thing is that throughout these six films he remains remarkably consistent in his goals. He wants power, and if he can’t keep that power he’s going to make sure as many people suffer on his way down as possible. He’s almost cartoonishly evil in the best way possible!

And then came the sequels.

His motivations in the sequels are, quite frankly, impossible to discern, because they seem to change every scene. If he’s behind Snoke and the First Order, it’s easy to guess that he probably wanted Rey dead, right? Because that’s sure the vibe Snoke gave in The Last Jedi. But no, after it seeming like he wants her dead for most of The Rise of Skywalker, as soon as she shows up his plan is suddenly for her to kill him so he can transfer into his body. And then he changes that a short time later to “I am going to suck the life out of Rey and Ben so this shitty clone body can be great.” It’s like they’re cramming three or four different Palpatine plots into the twenty-five minutes of screentime Palpatine has in this film, and there is just absolutely no thematic cohesion anywhere. It’s just a mess.

Performance: If there is one thing that is always consistent with Palpatine, it is that Ian McDiarmid is absolutely fantastic as him. This man is able to take the most cliché, generic evil overlord archetype imaginable and transform every single line of dialogue he spouts into a meme, and even when he’s the absolute worst version of this character possible and strapped to a giant Sith dialysis machine on some Sith planet where he makes Snoke clones and verbally berates Adam Driver, he still finds time to be hilariously awesome.

Final Fate: Palpatine seriously underestimated Anakin, and ended up chucked down into the Death Star, where he died. He certainly didn’t have a poorly-explained clone backup of himself anywhere that would rise up decades later to completely override any victories the heroes ever had by ensuring that the entire lineage of the Skywalkers was destroyed and then usurped by his own spawn.

Best Scene: In a scene that justifies the entire existence of the prequels, shows off McDiarmid’s acting chops as he pulls off some actual subtlety as Palpatine, delivers some great background lore, and helps make Revenge of the Sith as awesome as it is… well, have you heard of the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?

Best Quote: Look, I could put just about anything he says in Revenge of the Sith here. I could put just about anything he says here. This man is an absolute meme machine who spits out only the finest quotable soundbites you will ever here. But look, I’m tired of not singling out great lines, so let me give you the one I quote the most. It’s one of his greatest quotes, and yet it is unbelievably simple. Two words and a ridiculously hammy inflection is all this man needs to be a meme:

Final Thoughts & Score: Sheev Palpatine is a man of extremes. Every aspect of him is so large that when he does something, he does it with the full force of his entire character. Revenge of the Sith will eternally be his best showing in the entire franchise, because he just spends the entirety of his screentime being the most insanely impressive scheming, manipulative bastard imaginable while somehow managing to cram in time for a sick spin through the air or a monologue about his former master at the space opera house. He manages to singlehandedly redeem the prequels if only by existing in them, and he helps elevates Revenge of the Sith into being the only one of those films that is generally accepted as being legitimately awesome. And while he is absent for much of the original trilogy, seeing as he wasn’t exactly conceived of right off the bat, he manages to make the most of his appearance in Return of the Jedi by being just as delightfully malevolent as ever, goading Luke and Vader into a duel and shooting lightning from his fingertips.

There are few villains who are just this completely basic and cliché that could ever hope to be great, but thanks to McDiarmid’s portrayal, he has gone on to be one of the single most iconic villains of all time, and one of the most iconic characters of all time. The guy is practically a living meme, from his name to his actions in the prequels, and he has certainly inspired many an evil overlord after him. For a character so seemingly unoriginal, it can be hard to believe he probably deserves an 11/10, but he most definitely does. He’s just become a staple of the franchise, to the point where some people feel it just ain’t Star Wars without him…

...Including, unfortunately, J.J. Abrams and a few other writers. Palpatine managed to be shoehorned into the prequels by being a surprise twist villain for The Rise of Skywalker (and as we’ve all seen from their recent animated movies, out-of-nowhere twist villains are great!), and it is without a doubt the most stupid and embarrassing showing one could possibly imagine for a character of this caliber. His motivations seem to change every time he opens his mouth, a lot of his dialogue is just uninspired, and while he does get a somewhat striking design here it’s hampered by the fact that his entire existence and role are really unexplained in the film and he feels like he was slapped in for the sake of being there. 

There’s also the fact that his mere existence and the fact he ends up being responsible for Ben Solo’s death means he completely overrides the entire franchise, comes out on top with his granddaughter usurping the Skywalker name, and succeeds entirely at wiping out the Skywalker lineage. This entire nine film series was just buildup to Palpatine ultimately winning, and just when things couldn’t get worse, Disney decided to take away the one thing that made this Palpatine hilarious – the idea that, with his hideous scarred face, he was able to bang a woman and conceive a child – and completely toss it out the window by saying this Palpatine was actually a clone. Not in the movie, of course, because that would make way too much sense, no; it was confirmed on Twitter.

I think it goes without saying Clone Palpatine gets a 1/10. And this is through no fault of McDiarmid; he’s still genuinely great in the role, even if the role is stupid, his character’s actions are stupid, and just everything about the character’s existence is stupid. He’s certainly not phoning it in at all, and ignoring everything else about the film Clone Palpatine is at least somewhat amusing on his own. There’s also the fact that this Palpatine most definitely has an incredibly striking design and looks really cool, despite the unbelievable lameness of what he actually is:

But how he is utilized within the franchise and what he ultimately accomplishes and represents is too much for me to actually forgive in the context of Psycho Analysis. When the most redemptive thing I can say about Clone Palpatine is that his actor is at least trying and his design is cool despite the awful writing and story relevance, that is not the sign of a great character. That is the sign of a great actor desperately trying to salvage a trainwreck.

But it’s like I said earlier; Palpatine is a man of extremes. If he’s gonna be a great villain, then by god is he going to be one of the greatest villains of all time. And if he’s going to be a crappy villain? Well then he’s gonna sit among the worst ever. I kind of respect that about good ol’ Sheev; he just can’t do anything in half measures. I guess as a Sith he really does deal in absolutes, be it absolutely amazing or absolutely awful.

UPDATE: I stand by all my criticisms of Sheev Clonepatine, but dammit, there’s just too many hilarious memes, and I can’t really hate Ian McDiarmid’s performance. Yes, I’ve come around quick, but I guess it is true: when Palpatine succeeds, he succeeds epically and hilariously, and when he fails, he fails epically and hilariously. His role in the story and the stupidity of him being here at all is a 1/10 for sure, but I think he’s just hilarious enough to edge into the “So bad it’s good” category of 3/10 alongside his bouncing baby boy Snoke. 

Just remember: No matter what Disney tries to tell you, Palpatine fucks.

[son-of-alderaan]

J.J. Abrams is racing.

The director has been tasked with bringing four decades of the most popular and longest-running sci-fi franchise of all time to an epic conclusion. And nowadays he’s feeling a bit like Luke Skywalker flying his X-wing down the Death Star trench in A New Hope as TIE fighters closed in — under a bit of pressure, in other words, with the fate of the entire Star Wars universe depending on him.

“We always knew we were going to have three fewer months to postproduction this film,” says Abrams, who took over co-writing and directing duties on the movie two years ago after successfully rebooting the franchise with 2015’s blockbuster The Force Awakens. “So much is still being worked on. It’s literally a practical race to get it finished.”

If that admission sounds worrisome, hold your fire on those tweets.

Despite a deadline crunch to make the film’s Dec. 20 worldwide launch (EW’s interview was conducted in late October), Abrams says he’s feeling “infinitely better” at this very late stage about The Rise of Skywalker than he was about The Force Awakens.

“We had more reshoots on Episode VII than this one,” Abrams says. “We had more story adjustments on VII than this one. We didn’t know if these characters would work, if the actors would be able to carry a Star Wars movie. There were a lot of things we didn’t know. On this, we knew who and what worked, and everyone is doing the best work I’ve ever seen anyone do. But the ambition of this movie is far greater than Force Awakens. What we set out to do was far more challenging. Everything is exponentially larger on this.” 

For example: Disney has released three trailers for The Rise of Skywalker. Some of the shots are stunning and seemingly revealing: desert scavenger–turned–Jedi apprentice Rey (Daisy Ridley) and First Order leader Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) clashing with lightsabers on the half-submerged wreckage of the second Death Star, which was blown up in Return of the Jedi; Rey facing off against a somehow resurrected Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid); the Millennium Falcon flying into a massive armada of Star Destroyers. Plus, those bewildering teases of Rey turning to the Dark Side and teaming up with Kylo.

Yet Abrams says fans still don’t really know anything. “The [trailers] that have come out are scratching the surface of what the movie is,” the famously spoiler-averse director says.

Asked if there are major action sequences we’ve yet to see any footage from, Abrams replies with a firm “Yes” and then, naturally, goes silent.

John Boyega, who plays stormtrooper–turned–Resistance fighter Finn, says his first reaction to the script penned by Abrams and Chris Terrio was he had to “read the script six more times because there was so much information in there.”

Here’s what we know about how Episode IX begins: It’s been more than a year since the events of 2017’s The Last Jedi. The First Order has decimated the Resistance. Rey has been training to use the Force. Finn and hotshot pilot Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) have been sent by General Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher) to find allies throughout the galaxy, but so far haven’t had any luck. “They’re trying to put bandaids on this leaking ship of the Resistance,” Isaac says.

Their mission leads Finn, Poe, and Rey to work together, which has, oddly, never happened before in the trilogy. And since there’s a time jump, the characters have all grown and changed since we last saw them. “We’re not just a ragtag group of people who have been thrown together,” Isaac says. “We’ve actually had time to train. There are some really great sequences with the three of us in infiltrating spaces.”

Both Isaac and Boyega say they had their character wishes granted for the final film. Isaac wanted Poe to get “out the cockpit and into the group,” while Boyega wanted Finn to become a more capable solider (and not, as the actor candidly puts it, just a “comedic goofy dude who never gets stuff done”).

“I definitely wanted more after Episode VIII,” Boyega says. “[Rise of Skywalker] makes Finn’s Episode VIII arc make more sense. We got to bring out a side of Finn we haven’t seen.”

To help spark the trio’s on-screen chemistry, Abrams told his cast to feel free to improvise dialogue, and many scenes were shot using long, continuous takes to keep their flow going. “J.J. came back with a new energy and new vibe,” Boegya says. “He wanted dialogue to be messy and natural, and that got all of us really excited.”

“I think it really captures the spirit of the original trilogy,” Isaac adds. “On top of that there’s fact that Rey has…“

The actor stops, catching himself before revealing too much.

Rey has… what?

“Rey is driving her own thing,” Ridley says. “She’s not doing what other people are telling her to do.”

We last saw Rey mourning the death of her mentor Luke Skywalker (who returns in the film, presumably in Force ghost form, played once again by Mark Hamill) and shutting the door to Kylo’s power-mad seduction attempt. The heroine has since made progress in her Jedi training. “I have skills that have developed, but ‘confident’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe it,” Ridley says. “She’s definitely more in control of everything and can do new fun stuff, but she’s vulnerable and a little insecure about at all.”

Yet Rey will use more than her Force powers in the new film. As Abrams hints: “The scavenger who is desperate and haggling for portions and trying to survive [in Force Awakens] — those special skills and that special experience ends up being something that is essential to saving the galaxy.”

Ridley trained in kickboxing for the final chapter as well, but says the emotional toll of Rey’s journey was more difficult than any combat scenes. “It’s a heavy story for Rey,” Ridley says. “There were days where I was literally like, ‘I can’t do this, I’m so tired, I don’t know if I can like reach that emotion again.’”

Part of Rey’s journey involves solving the mystery of her identity. Well, again. Kylo revealed in The Last Jedi that Rey’s parents are deceased nobodies, “filthy junk traders [who] sold you off for drinking money.” The line embraced the idea that a hero doesn’t need to come from somebody special in order to be somebody special. Yet many fans called foul as the trilogy has teased Rey’s identity as being crucial information from the start (“Classified?” Rey echoed back to BB-8 during her debut sequence. “Me too. Big secret”).

“The parents thing is not satisfied — for her and for the audience,” Ridley says. “That’s something she’s still trying to figure out — where does she come from?”

It’s unclear if Abrams has made a course correction to Last Jedi writer-director Rian Johnson’s plan or there was always more to say about Rey’s parentage. Either way, wasn’t the Episode VIII scene supposed to be sincere?

“It’s not that she doesn’t believe it,” Ridley says carefully, “but she feels there’s more to the story. And she needs to figure out what’s come before so she can figure out what to do next…”

An even bigger cliffhanger is the resolution of Rey’s complex relationship with the First Order’s ruthless leader, who, okay, sure, also looks hot shirtless in high-waisted pants (but what if he didn’t?). Kylo has grown beyond being a “petulant teenager,” and Driver says Kylo’s killing of Supreme Leader Snoke was “kind of a birth moment for him.”

“He had all of these pseudo father figures that he had to either live up to or literally kill to become his own person for the first time,” the actor says.

Naturally, Kylo’s destiny will lead to at least one lightsaber clash with Rey. Abrams sees the duo as “two sides of the same coin,” noting, “even when they’re not together they still haunt each other in a way — they know they are each other’s unresolved business.”

For his part, Driver rejects any labels for the Rey-Kylo relationship. “I don’t think it’s all one thing,” he says. “Part of the fun of playing it is the boundaries of it keep changing. At times it’s more intimate, sometimes less intimate. Sometimes it’s codependent. And then it’s, obviously, adversarial.”

That Rey and Kylo end up battling on the wreckage of the second Death Star continues Abrams’ penchant for showcasing ruined relics of the original trilogy — like Rey spelunking in a wrecked Star Destroyer and living in an AT-AT walker on Jakku in Force Awakens. “It felt like going into the haunted house, the place that you have to go to,” Abrams says of bringing back the iconic space station. “This is a story of people having to grapple with the burden the prior generation dumps on those that follow. So literally returning to this wreck of the past and having to fight it out felt like an obvious metaphor, but also felt incredibly cinematic.”

Of course, there’s another original trilogy fallen icon in the film too. Fisher died after filming The Last Jedi. Figuring out how to utilize Fisher’s previously deleted scenes in the new movie was one of Abrams’ biggest challenges. “Saying Leia had passed away, or that she was off somewhere else, felt like a cheat,” Abrams says. “Then I remembered we had these scenes that we hadn’t used from Episode VII. It was like finding this impossible answer to this impossible question. Suddenly we had classic Carrie in these amazing moments. So when you see in the movie, it’s her, she’s there. It’s not like there’s some crazy digital trickery. She’s just in the movie.”

A couple of other original trilogy characters are likewise integral. Billy Dee Williams is back as that ol’ pirate Lando Calrissian for the first time in live action since Return of the Jedi. Williams says he’s excited to return to the character despite enduring fans coming up to him for decades accusing him of betraying Han Solo. “The whole Star Wars experience feels like it never goes away; It’s always there,” Williams says. “There are all of these things that have happened in Lando’s life that he’s got to resolve.”

There’s also paranoid android C-3PO, who in the latest Skywalker trailer ominously says he’s taking a “last look” at his friends. Threepio is essential to a movie’s plot for the first time since A New Hope (Ridley points out Rey might spend more time with Threepio than any character in the film).

“In previous recent movies Threepio has just been kind of window dressing, something on the mantlepiece, you polish it and dust it o when guests are coming,” says Anthony Daniels, who has played the golden droid’s body and voice in every Skywalker Saga movie. “J.J. and Chris came up with this aspect of Threepio we had not seen before that’s remarkably clever. They go down deep into ancient Star Wars and came up with something refreshingly new.”

Joining Threepio in the metal headgear club is newcomer to the saga Keri Russell. Despite having worked with Abrams for years on Felicity, the actress found herself escorted to a small room where she could only read the Skywalker script under watchful guard. Her character is Zorii Bliss, who’s “involved in some intimate, sketchy stuff” and wears a large brass-and-crimson Daft Punk-like helmet.

“For a shy person this is my ultimate dream job — I get to be in Star Wars and my face is covered,” Russell marvels. “I can see everyone and no one can see me. Though I now have giant throbbing neck muscles like Mr. T.”

There’s also newcomer Naomi Ackie portraying Jannah, a bow-and-arrow-wielding warrior who rides a horse-like creature called an Orbak. Real animals were used on set, and until you’ve ridden a horse dressed up like exotic alien across the surface of the Death Star you haven’t really lived. “I was just gobsmacked,” Ackie says of the experience. “Every day you’re grappling with the fact that every choice you make in a small moment is going to be broadcast to the entire world.”

While the film is introducing new characters, Abrams insists Rise of Skywalker won’t set up a future story. He’s not leaving loose threads for Disney to hang another trilogy directly onto the back of this one. Lucas’ original dream of an intergalactic tale about a farm boy from Tatooine is at last about to set — just like those dreamy twin suns collapsing into the desert. “It’s a very good ending, and a good ending feels right,” Daniels says simply.

And yet, in another way, the final Skywalker Saga film is very much about the future of the franchise. Star Wars will continue to exist in an omniscient Force-like fashion, in everything from toys to TV shows to videogames to theme parks, but new movies have always been the brand’s creative core. Since buying Lucasfilm in 2012, Disney’s movies in a galaxy far, far away peaked early at the box office with Force Awakens and sunk to their lowest level with the most recent entry, 2018’s Solo: A Star Wars Story.

At one point during our interview, Abrams declares, “the stakes are all or nothing with this film.” He was referring to its high-stakes story line, but the same could also be said about the franchise. Even if we never see Rey, Finn and Poe on screen again, Rise of Skywalker’s popularity will likely make an impact on Disney’s next studio moves — guiding like a fallen Jedi or Sith’s unseen hand.

Speaking of: There’s at least one key player we haven’t discussed. Palpatine’s return may be the most closely guarded story line in the film. How is the Emperor, who Vader tossed into the Death Star’s reactor core, back in a seemingly corporeal form?

“This has been a very long chess match that’s been played between the Jedi and the Sith — all the way back to the very beginning,” Issac teases. “It’s an amazing thing to see that really come to the forefront.”

The Rise of Skywalker might very well turn out to be a full-fledged reunion special of Force ghosts. And what are the rules that govern the Jedi and Sith spirit realm anyway? Obi-Wan Kenobi said in Empire Strikes Back that he “cannot interfere” with Luke’s fight with Vader. But in The Last Jedi, Yoda suddenly called down a lightning strike. What can Force ghosts do — and not do — in our world?

Abrams’ reply to that key question is pretty much what you’d expect.

“That’s probably best answered,” the director says, “by not answering it.”

[dreamerinsilico]

the obligatory “I just saw Rise of Skywalker” post

TLDR: My very low expectations were met.  I didn’t consider it a waste of two hours.

Spoiler-free overview: It had some genuinely good, often funny banter, and a few character moments and narrative beats I thought were good at least in theory, if not necessary in implementation.  

A lot of good actors did their best with a lot of bad writing.  Structurally, I thought the way the ending resolved worked, if you accept the premise of the conflict.  Unfortunately, the premise of the conflict was ridiculous from so many different angles I was rolling my eyes every few minutes.  

JJ Abrams really needs to learn that not every fucking scene needs to be some flavor of highlights reel-worthy bombastic - it cheapens every actual Big Moment when the music and the cinematography and the delivery of the dialogue is trying to communicate “big moment” in every scene.

Spoiler-ridden rambling below the cut:

It speaks to the overall ridiculousness of the film that both my absolute favorite and least favorite things about it are minor details.  :P

My favorite: When Our Heroes asked Hux why he turned on the First Order, I stage-whispered to my brother, “Because Kylo Ren is a dick!” right before Hux said almost exactly that.  It was just such a perfect “...and we all know I’m that petty” detail, but it also really.... it stood out hardcore to me as an anomaly in the Star Wars saga, being basically the one and only case of one character’s shitty treatment of another having direct, major consequences!  There’s plenty of friendship-based loyalty in Star Wars, and obviously a few big turncloak cases (Anakin, Anakin/Vader again, Kylo/Ben) where it was about the person’s loyalty to someone(s) on the other side, but Hux betrays the First Order strictly because Kylo Ren is an asshole and he’s fed up.  (Contrary to every other Empire/First Order character who gets abused by a Sith on the regular.)  A+, most believable thing in all of Star Wars.

My least favorite: FORCEGHOST!LUKE GAVE REY LEIA���S LIGHTSABER, WHICH WAS GREEN, AND WAS LIKE ‘YOU’LL TAKE BOTH OF THESE TO SITH PLANET’ (yes, good, setting up the eleventh-hour Rey-Ben alliance, symbolically appropriate, I like it) AND THEN WHEN SHE WAS FACING PALPATINE AND BEN WAS COMING TO HELP BOTH THE FUCKING LIGHTSABERS WERE BLUE!  IS THIS FINAL-SEASON-OF-GOT-THERE’S-APPARENTLY-STARBUCKS-IN-WESTEROS LEVEL CARELESSNESS, OR DID SOMEONE ACTUALLY THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA FOR SOME UN-FUCKING-FATHOMABLE REASON?!?!?!

*clears throat*  Anyway.  I may have walked out of the theater ranting about that one.

Okay, next on the docket, the Reylo in the room:

It is not and has never been my ship, but in a big-picture sense I don’t actually hate it, and I definitely don’t hate the way their final scene went down.  However, any actual satisfaction I might have taken in their arc is inevitably hamstrung by the fact that Kylo Ren does not, in my opinion, have one good line of dialogue in any movie he’s in, and his characterization has been actively cruel and unsympathetic the whole series, except for a very few moments with Rey, and most of the time with her he’s still being a condescending prick.  “I’m going to find you, and I’m going to turn you to the dark side.”  My dude.  Maybe say literally anything other than that, if your goal is to actually change her mind.  

I actually like (*coughs*  love, more and more obsessively), on a big-picture level, the whole “bonding with your nemesis” thing, as a trope.  But the nemesis needs to have some redeeming qualities other than the ability to look sad and tortured.  With better writing in general, and an antagonist with any actual depth/substance, it could have worked, and worked well.  As it is, I find I’m not mad at it as a thing, but like... what a damn shame.  It could have been great; instead it’s hollow and incredibly under-realized.  Incredibly.  Even setting aside the fact that the set-up was hamfistedly awful (I’m talking about their interactions in the previous movies and this one, where he spends all his time telling her what she Has To Do, Inevitably, and she spends all her time telling him to fuck off), shouldn’t she... have some kind of reaction to his death?  Like, any reaction?  Contemplation after the fact?  Acknowledgement that someone she had a Force connection to so strong they could communicate telepathically wherever they were is now dead?  But no, we’re cutting to triumphant music and the Resistance winning and Rey’s back in the X-wing and Ben Solo will not be mentioned again.

All of it is so damn hollow I’m peripherally kind of amazed at how riled up people seem to have gotten about it.  I just can’t summon an emotion stronger than exasperation.

I can summon an emotion stronger than exasperation for the way the script played Finn’s implied romantic love for Rey for laughs.  Finn Deserved Better; Disney is Terrible.  I’m so glad John Boyega is apparently telling them to piss off regarding future opportunities for him to be disrespected.  

<333 Poe and Finn’s “bickering married couple” dynamic, which apparently both actors have been intentionally playing up to the extent that they were able.  

Rey’s internal conflict, while beautifully acted by Daisy Ridley, did not make any damn sense, just like it didn’t make sense in TLJ.  Of course I get that one of the central themes is birth versus who you choose to be, but like.... she’s never once done anything that should make her or anyone else worry that she’s going to suddenly become a megalomaniacal Sith Lord.  As my brother pointed out, if they’d actually had her accidentally kill Chewie, as we were very briefly lead to believe, that might have lent it some credence.  But as it stands, her fear of herself just feels... completely inappropriate and unreasonable, given that aside from a few short outbursts that had no lasting consequences, she’s never deviated from the compassionate, generous person everyone except Kylo Ren (and Luke, I guess, in parts of TLJ) knows her to be.

I could spend another few thousand words talking about how nothing about Palpatine being Back or the Final Order existing and having planet-cracking weapons on every one of their enormous fleet out in a hidden system no one knows how to get to makes no fucking sense, but let’s just... leave it at that.  I’d rather not.  

It was a typical Disney conglomerate soulless cash-grab that had some entertaining bits, and some bits that could have been fantastic had anyone with power actually cared about telling a cohesive story rather than relying almost entirely on dramatic music and the actors’ facial expressions to make people feel things.

(PS: Where the heck did that yellow lightsaber come from?)

[comradesklaine]

more!

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To the Moon and Back by idoltina Blaine Anderson is four when he decides he wants to be an astronaut.

Since The Day We Found You by robotsfighting The Hummel-Hudson house feels like home to Blaine, in a way that his own house never has.

education in harmony by blackmustache Blaine doesn't meet Kurt during his sophomore year at Dalton - but fate intervenes and makes sure they still cross paths a little later in their lives.

Lamb in The Wood by idoltina Six years after New Directions graduates from William McKinley High School, Kurt and Blaine share an apartment in New York. In the early hours of the morning, a phone call from Quinn rocks their world. • warning for character death (artie)

Intertwined and Overrun by idoltina Blaine is nineteen and home for the summer, a newly minted college sophomore. The hospital lights are blindingly bright, but the world has never been darker.

Let it Snow by santaklaine Kurt pinpoints the very moment his heart stops while on vacation at a ski resort with Blaine over the holidays. The vacation gets better after that.

Life and Times of Author B.A. Dalton by oncetwiceforevr Blaine Anderson (aka B.A. Dalton) is a writer from Los Angeles. Kurt Hummel changes him. 

The Boy on The Seesaw by regala_electra He’s gay. It’s not the end of the world. He’s pretty sure of that, at least he thinks so, and he’s trying to figure it out, but deep down he always knew, even before he had a real word to put there, pinning over his heart three letters gay and the world’s changed forever. Blaine Anderson's life as seen through several memorable summers and a conversation before his 16th summer vacation.

It’s Only Time by warble_on The summer before Kurt is to leave for college in New York, he creates a way to keep close to Blaine when they’re apart. 

Runner!Klaine verse by YourFairyGodfather Kurt is running his very first marathon for Reasons (and they're really good ones. Probably). Blaine is a marathon junkie with a total disregard for how good looking he is at seven in the morning (or in spandex pants). It's a good thing they're made for each other, because there are 26 more miles to the finish line.

In the Haze by oncetwiceforevr Blaine Anderson is a firefighter in NYC. One day, he meets Kurt Hummel. This is their story.

One’s Impossible, Two is Dreary by Lokei Kurt’s voice in his ear is warm and evens out all of the jagged edges on Blaine’s insides. “I’m back early from Callbacks and wanted to make sure to respond to you before it got too late. Care to explain this text?”

In Sickness and in... by flaming_muse There’s just Blaine, his hot pillow, and the heavy winter clouds pressing down on his chest. Futurefic.

Not The Boy Next Door by wordplay Blaine Anderson is a struggling musician with a new job. This is the story of everything he finds there. • fic is kinda incomplete without the images but they’re still within the pdf/epub, *here*

One Foot In Front Of The Other by apropensityforcharm 6x11 reaction. In which Blaine’s first day at NYU isn’t too great, until Elliott shows up. 

History Books Forgot About Us by apropensityforcharm 6x05 reaction. Ten teeny tiny moments of beautiful, ordinary love between Kurt and Blaine. Inspired by the Heads Up game in the elevator. 

★★★  Stunning and Cadaverous by rm (arem) AU. Blaine's back home in Lima because his father is dying. He meets Kurt for the first time in the Lima Bean when he accidentally spills coffee all over him. Turns out Kurt's a funeral director. But that's not really the strangest thing about either of them.

Eventually I’ll Get the Guy by mailroomorder When Blaine goes to college and moves into the dorms, there are a few things that are more difficult than expected; it's hard to jerk off when you're living in a dorm surrounded by people, and it's even more frustrating when the person you're fantasizing about is your roommate.

Extended Families by imaginentertain Blaine has an interesting relationship with his boyfriend's father

that was then; he is now by villiageidiot Now that there's Blaine, everything's different.

Ink verse by orphan_account Meet cute AU: Blaine is a florist and Kurt is a tattoo artist from the shop next door.

To Shake the Pride of Angels by Cimmerians Kurt and Blaine have never met. Until they do.

Puppy Kisses by hdarchive He’s determined to be the most romantic husband in the entire world, chocolates and roses and puppies included.

unexpected by klaineanummel Blaine Anderson was just about the last thing Professor Kurt Hummel expected out of a TA. • one of the softest blaines written i wanna cry just thinking about him

TattooArtists!Klaine verse by alilactree

On My Way (To You) by MakerOfAnarchy Blaine pines after Kurt Hummel for an entire year before fate steps in and gives him just the nudge he needed.

Encounters by orphan_account Kurt and Blaine have a one night stand at a club. Then they start to see each other randomly around the city as if some strange force keeps trying to bring them together.

The Littlest Vows by rainjoyswriting Blaine is afraid of spiders. Kurt helps.

Cooper Anderson, D.D.S. by luckie_dee Blaine has a loose tooth, and Cooper plans to use it to further his future career as an actor.

Someone Marches Brave by Lexie The aftermath of multiple elections isn't easy to handle.

Starcrossed by thefatesallow (orphan_account) It is the Fourth Quarter Quell. Kurt, the Victor of the 98th Hunger Games, is braced to return for his second year as a mentor. All he hopes for is a quick Games so he can return home and battle his nightmares until the next year. But then Blaine Anderson is reaped.

The Sky Could Be Blue by JudeAraya Relationships with the Winged are as close to illegal as can be, but when Kurt Hummel hires Blaine Anderson to walk in his runway show, neither can deny their instant chemistry.

Testers by gleeficarchivepseud (andyetilienot) Kurt and Blaine find a new way to make money on the side.

(We’ve Got) Obsessions by gleeficarchivepseud (andyetilienot) “Tested” reaction fic.

A Mild Case of Vampirism by icedwhitemocha sometimes a teddy bear is just a teddy bear. this is not one of those times.

What They Say About The Third Time by a_simple_rainbow Blaine is a cinematography student who agrees to help some classmates out with their end of semester project. Kurt is a fashion student who agrees to help his high school friend, Artie Abrams.

Hate On Me Hater by rospeaks Kurt and Blaine are fashion critics in competition with each other. • p much just pwp lmaooo

Mistaken Identity by kurtiepie "How do you accidentally do something like that?" After a long day, Blaine comes home to find that his friend and roommate Sam has accidentally set him up on a blind date. 

The Tune Without The Words by FyrMaiden It's not Blaine's wings which make him special.

Down To The River by FyrMaiden Faith is an important part of Blaine's life, and he doesn't want to lose it.

Fire Forged Friends by kurtiepie "This is the worst bitter rivalry Kurt has ever been a part of." After coming to the conclusion that she would rather be fear than play nice, Rachel corrals the New Directions into a fiercely competitive new mindset. Kurt doubts her methods, but goes along with them -- until the Warbler's leading man sends him a message, telling him it's 'crucial' that he sees him.

Soothe by Ladylywrites Blaine has a nightmare and calls Kurt.

All Your Curves And Edges by Ladylywrites Set after 'Tested'; Blaine opens up a little more about his feelings in the after glow of making up.

Blaine Anderson, Guerrilla Knitter at Large by madamemonday Blaine knits!!

Nine in the Afternoon by hedgerose Growing up and growing together.

Clandestine ‘verse by DasWarSchonKaputt The first words Kurt Hummel ever says to Blaine are, “Take the shot.” (spy!klaine)

All My Numbers by sweetiejelly Eight years later, at the urging of their friends, Kurt and Blaine try speed dating. It doesn't work. Until it does spectacularly.

We Should Be Woo’d by flowerfan Sam turns to Blaine for advice on how to help Spencer woo Alistair, but Blaine and Kurt are a little busy…

want to be wanted by sxndazed "What are you afraid of?" He looks up and meets her eyes. She'll prod until he answers, but she wants him to answer without having her do so. He sighs. "I'm afraid of not being enough."

Under Your Spell(ing) by notthetoothfairy Emotionally isolated skank!Kurt approaches Blaine at a church youth group meeting, and somehow ends up with more feelings than he can handle.

And now here they are by tinysocieties “I can’t wait to read it,” Blaine says, his expression open and sincere. Kurt feels fond all of a sudden. He can already tell it’s going to be a problem.

Emotions in Limine by whenidance Lawyer!Kurt, Paralegal!Blaine

[atlaswriting]

“I want you to put in a good worth for me with Abram,” Sophie taps her pencil on her calculus textbook, blue eyes flickering past the numbers and letters like it was nothing. She scribbles something in her notebook, looks back at the text and then sets her pencil down, “I think a good word coming from you would be worth something.”

“I want you to put in a good worth for me with Abram,” Sophie taps her pencil on her calculus textbook, blue eyes flickering past the numbers and letters like it was nothing. She scribbles something in her notebook, looks back at the text and then sets her pencil down, “I think a good word coming from you would be worth something.”

My head is filled with smoke; I almost don’t catch what she’s asking. The longer she stares at me, the quicker words begin to make sense and I shake my head, “You aren’t his type.”

Sophie grins, leaning back in the wooden chair, older than her family history with money and nods, “Who is, Lissa?” she asks, “You?” it sounds more like an accusation. She nods slowly and picks her pencil back up, focusing on the next set of equations. Sophie finishes the whole page before I figure out two answers. “He can’t have you, though, can he? Not while you’re with Jason… And you’re with him still, aren’t you?”

Teeth pull in my bottom lip and I bite down hard. Relishing in the pain because right now my body feels more like a comet hurdling toward earth than girl. “Of course I’m with Jason.”

“And does he know about what happened?”

“Fine.” I say, clutching my pencil between tightly wound fingers, “I’ll talk to Abram for you. I can’t make any promises, I don’t control him.”

Happy with my answer, Sophie closes her text book, stuffing it and her notebook into her bag. She pushes the chair back with a loud skid on the floor and stands, “You could if you tried hard enough.”

I don’t breathe until she’s out of sight.

 ♡ ♡ ♡

There’s a buzzing in my chest that can’t be calmed with any amount of water. Bees stuck in the prison of my ribs, trapped between dishonesty and lost hope. My eyes focus on the ice and on the bodies skating too fast to keep up with.

Middlebury is down by five points and New York has a fire lit so hot under their ass they were melting ice.

It becomes too much and I find myself standing on the bleachers, hands cupped over mouth yelling for Jason—for Abram, at New York’s coach for being a complete asshat.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” I shout, “Did you not just see that check to his head!” My voice booms over the crowd as I watch Jason’s body fall to the ice. The players stop except one—Abram. I beg him silently to stay put, but he charges for the right wing that took Jason out and plows him into the boards.

Players from the bench rush onto the ice, a mix of yellow, white, purple and black mix like some fucked up Van Gogh painting. Parents are yelling, coaches are yelling and a loud voice stuns the crowd silent—announcing the end of the game.

I watch, as Jason is lifted to his feet by teammates and moved off the ice. Glancing back at Sophie, I have no time to tell her where I’m going before I jump up the bleachers, moving in and out of bodies.

“Hey!” I shout at Abram, who is waiting in the hall by the time I make it to the nurse’s suite. “Is Jason okay?”

He shrugs, “They haven’t allowed me in to check on him yet. I don’t know.” Both he and I look down at his shaking hands, knuckles already starting to bruise. “I don’t know what happened—Jason went down then all I saw was—all I saw was…”

I use my hands to cover his, as tiny as they are they manage to hide the discoloration, “Don’t worry about it. You did what you were supposed to as a teammate. As a brother. He would have done the same for you.” The urge to lift his hands to my mouth and kiss them is impossible to ignore. Instead, I choose to drop them.

“You’re wearing my jersey.” He peaks around the back, “Where did you get that one from. I thought I had the one from Boston packed away?”

“Your closet.”

“When were you in my room?”

I give him a knowing smile. “I evened out our deal, didn’t I?”

Abram steps closer. My breath catches in my throat and fingers itch to run through his hair. “It looks better on you, anyway.” He whispers, voice low and deep. It sinks beneath my skin and wraps around my bones in only the way he can.

I part my lips to speak but the door opens and the nurse looks at each of us. I jump back, “Is he okay?” I don’t wait for her to speak, rushing past jumping onto Jason. “I thought your head was going to fall off.”

He laughs, “That’s an unpleasant image—I’m fine,” he says, looking at Abram who steps behind me. I cup his cheeks in my hands and press a kiss to his mouth—hoping to satiate the hunger growling in my gut. “I’m just mildly concussed. I can’t play in the next three games.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Abram starts. I move to the other side to give him space to hug Jason, “I don’t think any of us will be playing in the next three games.”

“Dude, you can’t miss anymore games. The scouts, you’ve got get all the practice you can in.”

Abram nods, “I’m not worried.”

Uncertainty flashes across Abram’s face but I don’t say anything. I can see the unknown as it settles in like a ghost story, ready to haunt him any time he closed his eyes.

Around supper, the nurses rush us out, demanding Jason be left alone and despite both of our protests, she shuts us out into the hall. Abram looks over at me, hand resting on the back of his neck, “Do you want to go get dinner with me?”

I should thank him for what he said over the holiday—that we should stop because we have to. Because a girl with a matchstick mouth could never love a boy made of gasoline.

Yes—the word rises in my throat but I choke it back and shake my head, “I have to finish calculus.” I say, which isn’t a complete lie, “and I’m not hungry. I ate a really big lunch while you guys were practicing for the game.” Abram’s brows crease with well deserved skepticism, “You can ask Sophie if you want.” I offer, because I know he won’t.

“Speaking of her…” I clench my jaw—throat not wanting to form around the words I’m going to say, “I think you should go on a date with her. Just one. You don’t have to marry her—she’s a nice girl and I think you two could… be perfect for each other.”

“Elise.”

“I have to go—but please, promise me you’ll give her a chance? One chance, that’s all I’m asking.”

♡ ♡ ♡

The sick is the worst part—chills coming in a close second. I’ve made home of my bathroom floor, with my emaciated body curled around the toilet. My stomach churns violently and I cry out with each awful spasm.

“Elise?” There’s a knock on my door and I press my lips together in a straight line to keep the cry from escaping. Another clench makes me yell and my bathroom door opens. “Elise, my god, what’s wrong?” First Abram’s hands rake through his hair, pulling back and then he falls down beside me, fingers afraid to reach. “I’m going to get a teacher, we need to get you to the hospital.”

I cry into the rim of the toilet, hair matted down against a cold sweat and I shake my head, “I don’t need a teacher, Abram. It’s morning sickness, this is normal.”

“Nothing about this is normal! Wait—what—do you mean morning sickness?”

“I’m pregnant—this is fine, I read this is what happened.”

He begins shaking his head, standing up and backing away from me, “How long have you known—Jason’s, right? Jesus, Elise, tell me it’s Jasons.”

“Since we got back from Holiday—,”

“Two weeks? You’ve known for two weeks that you were pregnant?”

“I don’t know for sure—I’ve never taken a test, I’ve been too scared. But it has to be, Abram. I haven’t had my period, I’m sick all the time…”

“I need to tell Jason,” He paces toward the bathroom door, “He should know, he should be here, not me—we need—,” my shaking body stops him from speaking, “This isn’t normal, Elise, something could be wrong.”

Despite my protests, Abram lifts me from the floor and supports my body with his. “Don’t tell anyone—please, Abram,” I beg as we moved through the halls. He’s doing most of the walking, my legs refusing to work and he avoid any teachers and wandering students, all of whom should be in class. “It’s not Jason’s,” I tell him as he sets me into the Uber beside him, “It can’t be—Jason and I, we’ve never—um, only you…” I refuse to look at Abram; certain I’ll see the look of disgust I’ve been dreading.

♡ ♡ ♡

I feel a little too naked in the hospital gown, a little too sharp and each time Abram reaches for my hand, I pull away, knowing I’ll cut him.

“Did you tell anyone about this or were you hanging onto this alone?” He asks, the tiniest hint of bitter edges out his words.

Looking down at my hands, I stand, begin pacing but soon feel winded and sit down again. “I told Ellie.” I admit, before he can say anything I hold up my hand. “Don’t get mad at her—I only texted her about a week ago and told her what I thought it was. If it makes you feel any better, she told me I should tell you immediately.”

“But you didn’t.” And that sounds a little bit like an accusation.

“No, because I knew you’d react like this.”

Abram stands, walking across the floor and peaking out into the hall. Each time someone in scrubs walks by, he perks up a little but then deflates as they continue walking. “How else am I supposed to react? ‘Cause if you have an answer, I’d love to know. How are you so calm?”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing.” I tell him, looking down at the fabric tented around my stomach, “It could be something good—it could—,”

“Destroy Jason, that’s what it could do, Elise.”

I blink away the tears that have formed in my eyes, guilt making it’s presence by squeezing my chest—tighter and tighter until I can’t breathe, “Abram—,” I say, trying to inhale but my lungs feel immobile.

“No, Elise, I’m not done—,”

“No, Abram, something’s wro—,”

I shut  my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I lift my lids and all is born again.

“What happened?”

“Miss Allaire,” a doctor shines his light in my eyes and I blink away from him, “Do you know where you are?” I nod, repeat the hospitals name, the date and my name. “I have good news and bad news, Elise,” he says and I wait for him to continue, the moment hanging in the air like a cloud, “You aren’t pregnant.” My eyes dart around the room until I see Abram standing in the corner, arms wrapped around himself cheeks puffed out from crying, “You are severely malnourished, Miss Allaire and I think it’s best—,”

The doctor’s words fall away, meaningless in the moment because the only person I want is standing as far from me as he can. Two nurses are at my side one trying to fit me with an IV, the other trying to speak over the doctor, doing her best to calm me.

I think it’s best if you were admitted to a treatment facility.

It’s for your health. This is imperative, Miss Allaire.

“Abram?” I call toward him, “Abram, don’t let them take me,” I beg between sobs, “Please, don’t let them take me.”

[atechnicolortomorrow-blog]

Some Perspective.

by: Allan Victor

             “Chronic means it’s with you for life.”

     I was not exactly sure how to process those words. There I was half asleep in a recovery room, sitting in a hospital gown with my sobbing mother. I had been displaying an array of uncommon symptoms, mainly bloody stools. Prior to my first colonoscopy, I had been frequenting emergency rooms unsure of what to make of anything. Fun fact, I was almost put into quarantine once after the E.R. nurses thought I had potentially contracted something from out of the country. This was after telling them at least a dozen times that I had not traveled internationally for nearly a decade. What started as a concerning emergency room visit, soon turned into a J.J. Abrams-style film. Jokes asides, my health was not playing around.

             Things were about to get serious.

     Let us begin in 2014, I was eager to make that transition from community college to a more traditional university. Ironic since everything the future had in store for me was anything but “traditional.” After receiving acceptance letters to all the schools I had been eyeing, it seemed nothing could stop me at this point. Years of crippling anxiety were finally going to pay off. For once, I had something to show for myself.

            I was unbreakable, or so I thought.

     I had befriended a fellow student at my community college, Quinn. She could drink practically anyone under a table. I would be lying if I said that I did not often engage in these alcohol-driven outings. Admittedly, I hadn’t been much of a drinker up until this point. Yet this substance seemed to serve as a much-needed crutch for a lacking social life. This was an ideal opportunity for me to start networking and meeting people. Who knew such a bitter tasting substance could provide such fun? Quinn worked as a receptionist in at a medical facility, which granted her a decent amount of secondhand medical knowledge. I could not help but wonder what her bosses would think of her recreational habits, but only god can judge us, right?

    It was at our favorite dive bar where I decided to mention some of the symptoms I had been experiencing, mainly blood in my stool. My initial demeanor was flippant, as I thought this issue would eventually resolve on its own. Quinn’s facial expression personified a certain fear I had been repressing. After a series of questions beyond my knowledge, the consensus became me needing to see a doctor as soon as possible. We said our goodbyes and I made my way home. It was not too far into my journey when I began feeling the same urgency I had grown accustomed to. However, this time things were different. I was in pain. After tailing it home, my next trip to the bathroom became my most violent one yet.  Soon came my first emergency room visit.

This evening would become the first night of the rest of my life.

     Unbeknownst to me at the time, emergency rooms can actually do very little for cases pertaining to gastroenterology. However, this did not stop me from making another couple of visits. I could tell the nurses were getting tired of me. In hindsight, I knew deep down my visits were doing essentially nothing for me. I knew that taking that next step of seeing an actual specialist would mean I would receive results I was not ready to hear.

    It was a sad day for me, but a good one for my health.

     The time came for my first ever colonoscopy. I will never be able to shake off the events leading up to the actual procedure. Firstly, I was unaware this facility was actually a teaching hospital. In other words, college-aged students often come to observe anything ranging from checkups to full blown procedures. As the anesthesiologist was prepping me, there was a knock at the door. Mind you, the door was glass and see-through. The visitors? Oh, just a group of well-dressed 20 something year olds not too far from my own age. And there I was in my surgical gown, which exposed my entire backside. Again, this see-through door was doing me absolutely no favors.

     Right as they were hooking me up to the oxygen mask which administered the anesthesia, the doctor taps me on the shoulder. He proceeds to ask me if it was okay if these students could watch. His tone? Nonchalant. His reaction to my disapproval? Disappointment. I truly choked up in that moment. I was already mortified about this entire situation. Now I had to accept how I had let the entire room down... Yahtzee!

I soon awoke in a twilight-like state of both radiance and   grandeur.

     Actually, I woke up to a nurse kneeing me in the chest to help me pass gas. One of the most awkward moments of this day came when they wheeled my bed through a packed hallway of onlookers. I was still half-asleep though, questioning my reality. My mother was waiting for me in this next room. Her facial expression sufficed for my googly-eyed state of confusion.

        She was scared, and quite frankly, so was I.

     After a good 20 minutes, the doctor joins us. I could not exactly get a good read of his facial expression, he looked like he meant business. Now here’s where the story gets a tad anticlimactic, being that I do not exactly remember what he said to me. However, I do remember the pictures they took of my colon, and they weren’t looking good. The only part of the conversation I do recall is my mother asking him if it was chronic. Due to my current state, I was unable to register what chronic actually entailed. The answer to her next question held an answer that would soon change my entire life. “Does that mean he has it for good?” Asked my mother in the most defeated tone. “Yes” He replied. “Chronic means it’s with you for life.”

                    Ulcerative Colitis is no joke.

     The following months were nothing I could have prepared myself for. I was just about to start life at my new college. Yet instead of being able focus on making new friends or establishing a promising major, I was being pumped with copious amounts of prednisone. Mind you, prednisone equals weight gain, mood swings, and anxiety. Just a few of my favorite things... Facial bloating is also a huge side effect or “Moon Face” as us patients like to call it. On top of my new appearance, I now had to accept the fact that I could very well experience urgency in the middle of class.  Granted, the first few months were tough. I was not really making friends as the constant paranoia of needing the bathroom consumed every last breath of mine. It was a bit of a blessing that I was a commuter and did not have to worry about dorm life.

    Everything and everyone felt a good arm’s length away.

     Thankfully, life started turning around some, in a good way. I ended up reaching such a steady place with my health that I joined the school’s improv troupe. This was something I had always wanted to do, but assumed would never be due to my health.  I was having fun. I was enjoying myself.

            Life was starting to make sense again.

     As much as I wanted to stay aboard this happy train, reality had other plans for me. It was New Year’s Eve. The stress of the holidays was doing me very few favors. The following morning, New Year’s Day, I woke in my most painful state yet. Getting out of bed felt like I was skydiving onto a pile of flaming rocks. Dramatic? Yes. A bit much? Probably. I was in a lot of pain though.

       It was in this moment I realized how life was likely never going to be the same again.

   Time went on, and I had no choice but to do the same. Accepting the trials and tribulations accompanying my condition cost me nearly everything. My friends, my education, my sanity. I was in that same dark place again. I felt as though life had very little meaning to it. Accomplishments meant essentially nothing, since I knew my condition would always be just waiting in the wings for me.

             Isolation became my happy place.

     Somewhere down the line, a blessing presented itself in the form of a new treatment team. This time, it was not just a physical transformation, but a spiritual one as well. Learning to not feel sorry for myself was step one. Since victimhood had become my comfort zone, I had to fight off that jaded part of myself. Mind you, none of this was an overnight process, and even while typing this I still have to counter the negativity which accompanies reliving this. However, with the help of humor, hope, and a lot of autoimmune suppressants... Life isn’t nearly as spooky anymore.

             Invisible illnesses are tricky topics.

     Just because you do not “look sick” in society’s eyes does not mean your troubles are invalid. This is a lesson I still struggle conveying to others. Whether your condition is physical or mental, there is a community of people out there who want to help you. Most importantly though, you must help yourself. Do not be afraid of putting yourself first. Be selfish, be stern,

             be something better than yesterday.

[stevejehovahbible]

Genesis 15

1 After these things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. God gives Abram mad props for his pious display in front of the magic priest king man Melchizedek, and tells him not to worry about giving up all the plunder, because He totally has Abram’s back. It doesn’t explain why he would be worried in the first place, because he was a rich man at the BEGINNING of the story. Let’s just shrug off that obvious logical blunder and plod on. I sense the rest of this story is going to be a cornucopia of nonsense, so we’ll have a lot to get through.

2  And Abram said, Lord God, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless, and the steward of my house is this Eliezer of Damascus? 3  And Abram said, Behold, to me thou hast given no seed: and, lo, one born in my house is mine heir. He can't believe he’s going to have to leave all his vast wealth to a man from Damascus, instead of his own children. Because people that aren’t from this special bloodline are less than people. But that’s not disturbing at all because God God Jesus God Reasons Magic God ShutUpWithYourLogicYouHeretic!!! Notice that Abram isn’t happy with God’s repeated assertions that have no backing evidence. He is an old man, and God has promised to make him the father of a master race (which totally is different from that Hitler idea that is exactly the same in every way because God said it was ok), but he has no children. Abram wants more than empty words, which we’ll soon find out is a BAD thing? Asking for proof leads to trouble. Bible lessons 101. 4  And, behold, the word of the Lord came unto him, saying, This shall not be thine heir; but he that shall come forth out of thine own bowels shall be thine heir. 100% literal translation: “You won’t have to leave your money to that commoner, who is obviously beneath you and doesn’t deserve any of your wealth! You’re going to crap out a butt baby from your intestines.” It’s actually saying that it will be his own son that he loves, as the seat of emotions in those days was the bowels. It’s like saying “your ACTUAL son, that you love with all your heart, will be your heir.” But for strict biblical literalists... well... I guess they think God is going to bring one of Abram’s turds to life.  5  And he brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be. This song and dance again? Look at the stars Simba! The great master race of the future looks down on us from those stars. So whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you, and so will I. Now go kill that guy for picking up a stick on Saturday. I have spoken. 6  And he believed in the Lord; and he counted it to him for righteousness. Belief is not a moral action. This is yet ANOTHER example of the bible attempting to validate itself in an illogical way, to instill fear into those reading it. If belief is righteousness, than disbelief is wickedness. It attempts to make the simple act of doubting a “sin.” When this nonsense is taught to children, it subtly programs their brains to accept that trust in God is automatically good, and questioning God is automatically bad. Now where have I heard that before? *cough* mind pattern programing *cough* cult psycology *cough* it’s exactly the was dictators and despots keep their subjects in line *cough cough* never question the great leader *cough*... Sorry... scratchy throat. Now where HAVE I heard that before? Nevermind. So, there’s another issue I’d like to bring up here that is a MAJOR problem in religion. The recycling of bad arguments. The apostle Paul cites this verse multiple times (Romans 4, verses 3, 9, and 22, Galatians 3:6, James 2:23) as EVIDENCE of justification by faith. The assertion is made, unchallenged, and therefore accepted as viable evidence of reality. Simply because Moses wrote that God said “Faith = Awesome” does not make that a reality. Citing that as hard evidence to a further claim you’re attempting to make is automatically fallacious reasoning.

“Say, Bob, did you know that cats can fly?” “Really Jim? How? I’ve never seen a flying cat Jim.” “That’s really not important Bob. Just trust me. Cats can fly.” “Well, I guess I’ll just chose to believe you Jim.” “Excellent choice Bob. Because belief is clearly a choice.” *Months later, Jim throws a cat over a roof with a cat-apult (*snicker*) and tells Bob that his beliefs have been vindicated! Just look at the evidence! Decades later, a scientist uses Jim’s belief in flighted cats, and Bob’s support of that belief to write a law saying all cat owners must get their cat’s wings clipped, or they’ll be shot for international super-treason or something. Cats don’t have wings, so all cat owners are killed. Dogs everywhere high five and sip their tennis ball flavored martinis. In a surprise MNightShamalablahmanon twist ending, Jim was really a dog in an elaborate disguise all along!

7  And he said unto him, I am the Lord that brought thee out of Ur of the Chaldees, to give thee this land to inherit it. In case you forgot, let me remind you again. Apparently people in bible times all had severe short term memory loss and needed to be told the same things over and over. “Hey, remember this land I gave you twice already...? Guess what? I brought you here to give it to you. Neat, huh?” Ownership of THIS land is super-duper important for some reason. You’d think God would tell Abram that owning land isn’t really something he should strive for, as it is ultimately materialistic and not a very high minded obsession to have. But He never does.  Instead, He continues to tell Abram that he’s God’s favorite, and that Abram’s kids will totally OWN this patch of earth just because God said so. Abram is the father of the Prosperity Gospel here, and God encourages him EVERY step of the way. Not a very godlike thing to do, but we should expect no less from this character. It fits with everything else He’s done so far.

8  And he said, Lord God, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it? Again, Abram is a BAD believer, because he’s asking for confirmation. This is actually something believers should do a little more. Ask for confirmation. Make sure the things you believe are grounded in reality. It’s a radical idea, I know. Thousands of years later, it’s still kind of seen as a fringe idea within the religious community at large. I’m hoping it becomes more mainstream in the future. 9  And he said unto him, Take me an heifer of three years old, and a she goat of three years old, and a ram of three years old, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon. “You want proof? Kill some animals for me. I don’t just give proof for free! I need to see something suffer and die first. Get with the program Abram!” 10  And he took unto him all these, and divided them in the midst, and laid each piece one against another: but the birds divided he not. Abram kills a cow, a goat, and a sheep and splits them into pieces. Why? Well, because this is an ancient ritualistic custom. Here’s how it works: Two people make an agreement. They slice animals in half, and then walk between the separated halves to symbolically affirm that the same should happen to them if they break their end of the bargain. This ritual is also mentioned in Jeremiah 34. Sounds like the perfect thing for a timeless, eternal, all powerful being to endorse and participate in, right?  11  And when the fowls came down upon the carcases, Abram drove them away. 12  And when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and, lo, an horror of great darkness fell upon him. In essence, Abram is unsure if he can trust the voices in his head about getting this land for his posterity, so he sets up a primitive version of a contract and waits - fully expecting God to physically appear and “sign” it by walking through the dead animals with him. But God doesn’t show, and he spends the day shooing away vultures from the rotting carcasses until he FALLS ASLEEP. That’s right. As with ALL proof offered by believers, the justification for it is 100% in his mind. Nothing happened to the dead animals. God didn’t physically appear. Abram asked for evidence and got NONE, so he made some up in his own head while he slept. For some reason, believers don’t balk at this. I’ll never understand why. There’s another minor thing to address here. I’ve seen it postulated by more than a few apologists that God put Abram to sleep BECAUSE there was no promise on Abram’s part, and he didn’t need to walk through the dead animals. As if that makes a lick of sense. The argument that real proof wasn't offered, just something in his sleeping mind, because of a technicality in the contract. God couldn’t show up physically and offer real proof, because Abram didn’t owe him anything. How does that make any sense at all?       13  And he said unto Abram, Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them; and they shall afflict them four hundred years; 14  And also that nation, whom they shall serve, will I judge: and afterward shall they come out with great substance. 15  And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be buried in a good old age. 16  But in the fourth generation they shall come hither again: for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full. All written down after the fact, by someone who wasn’t there. The words of God in a dream are recorded IN QUOTES by someone writing in generations later, after the supposed promises and prophesy made by God have already come to pass. How very convenient. 17  And it came to pass, that, when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold a smoking furnace, and a burning lamp that passed between those pieces. Ok, so there’s two options here. Verse 12 says, “And when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram,” so he is asleep here. Did the smoking furnace and burning lamp pass through the dead animals in his dream? Because that’s REALLY stupid. Or, did this even happen physically with no one present to witness it except a sleeping old man - but it’s recorded as an actual event that happened anyway. Because thats somehow even MORE stupid than the first option. Much like the snake in the Garden of Eden, we’re supposed to extrapolate from the story that the furnace and the lamp are symbols of God, just like the Snake was a representation of the Devil. The text doesn’t actually explicitly say this, and there’s no reason to automatically jump to that conclusion, but the apologists are going to jump anyway. It’s their nature. 18  In the same day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, Unto thy seed have I given this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river Euphrates: 19  The Kenites, and the Kenizzites, and the Kadmonites, 20  And the Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Rephaims, 21  And the Amorites, and the Canaanites, and the Girgashites, and the Jebusites. God promises again, without any actual evidence - that he’s going to give the land to Abram’s descendants, AND further promises that they’ll overthrow all the various “Ites” that dwell there. Because Moses wants the people to believe that God said all this. And they do. Without any evidence. And in thousands of years, nothing there has changed. People still believe things, just because someone tells them God said it.  

[atlaswriting]

“We aren’t waiting for Jason?” I ask and I can’t tell if the hitch in my voice is because of relief or remorse.

Nodding slowly, I have to force my grip to loosen on my suitcase when the driver tries to pry it from my hands, “I can sit in the front!” I offer, enthusiasm spilling out of my mouth and like some sick magic trick pulling my shame with it. “I know you must have missed Abram, you’ll want to catch up.”

Gigi is quick to grab my hand and stop me from reaching for the handle, “I wish I could,” she says sadly, “riding in the back of cars really messes with my menopause. I hope you don’t mind, though, Elise?”

I part my lips to question how the two were related, but Gigi wasn’t the type of woman you questioned. Instead, I harden my shoulders to keep my visible disappointment at a minimum. My knees shake a little too much as I slide across the seat, pressing my body as close to the door as possible. When Abram sits beside me, I tighten my legs together.

“What’s wrong?” Abram cocks his head to the side, using his right hand to pull the car door closed, “I don’t bite.” There’s a hint of menace that twitches at the corner of his lips. And I swallow hard, the memory of what that mouth can do haunts the hallow of my skull.

The entire drive to the airport my shoulders are rigid, fingernails dig into the palm of my hand and the sharpness is a welcomed, controlled sting.

“I hear you and my grandson are getting on well,” Gigi slows her gait to match mine as we head toward the chartered plane. I watch absently as our luggage is loaded into the under carriage and wait for Abram to disappear before I compel myself to walk faster.

“He told you?” My heels skid on the pavement and my hand tightens around my phone with such vitriol I’m afraid it will shatter in my hands, “It was one time—no, sorry, merde, it was twice but—,”

She laughs and nudges me up the stairs, “I was talking about Jason, dear girl.” Before I walk into the cabin, she reaches for my elbow, “Do I have to mention that pesky tangled web or should I trust that you understand?” Her voice is low, threatening in the most terrifying sense, but the smile on her face conflicts the acidity in her words.

I swallow hard, searching for the right thing to say—something that wouldn’t place me on the Missing Persons list, “I understand,” I tell her, “it’s less like a web and more like a noose.” I admit.

Her eyes flicker over my face and her mouth splits into a maternal smile, pulling me flush against her chest, “I assure you that noose only gets tighter the further you jump.”

♡ ♡ ♡

We arrive in Paris and are greeted with a calming snow fall. Flurries that would be romantic had the anvil of regret not dropped heavily into my belly. I pull my jacket tighter around my thinning frame, realizing then how little I had to keep myself warm.

Our home in Paris is beautiful. Dark red bricks encased in vines. It had once been an apartment complex, but Cerise decided it was too lowly of her to have to share her home—she decided, against my father’s wishes, to buy the entire building, informing all the tenants ( personally ) that they had until the week’s end to move out.

I wonder how often she thought about that and felt proud, felt powerful.

“Elise, there you are,” Cerise rises from the couch, back pin straight and lips puckered tightly together. She wraps her arms around me, mechanically and pulls me—with a thud—against her chest. Her mouth just barely presses to both of my cheeks, “chérie, je peux à peine tenir mes bras autour de toi,” she whispers.

The smile on my face becomes too strained. Malachi comes from behind my mother and pulls me into a hug I wouldn’t describe as tender. Abram is next—all I can do is watch as his fingers dig into his sons’ shoulder, a warning to not step out of line.

I feel the shout rise in my chest, but bite it back when I feel my mother’s hand tug me away.

“Unfortunately,” she begins, “We have an unnecessary visitor—,” her words darken and it’s hard not to notice the rage that boils behind her eyes, “don’t go getting excited, Elise—she isn’t going to stay long.”

There’s a familiar weight in the tapping that grows closer and I can feel my heart leap into my throat. “Anais!” I shout, hardly giving her time to enter the foyer before I throw my arms around her. She hugs back, winding so tightly around me I can almost feel the broken pieces of me shift into place. “You’re back from Italy!”  I rest my head under her chin and inhale the comforting scent of lavender and sandal wood, “tu m'as manqué,” I say quietly.

“And I, you, little one,” She pulls away to cup my cheeks and presses a kiss to my forehead.

Anais makes her way around the room, blatantly skipping Cerise and Malachi, she brings Gigi into a hug, “I’ve heard awful things about you,” she awards the matriarch with a kiss on her cheek, “and I love them all.”

Anais’ gaze eventually falls onto Abram and she pulls him in, “Is this the young Rose boy I’ve heard so much about?” She runs her thumb over his cheek, grazing the yellowing bruise under his eye, “Much more handsome than you’ve described, sœur,” She doesn’t need to look back to notice my mother’s scowl, “You look nothing like your father,” leaning close Anais drops her voice, “quel chanceux êtes-vous.”

“Actually,” Cerise starts, voice cutting through the moment, sharp as any knife, “that’s Malachi’s bastard, Abram. Elise’s beau is off with his mother.”

“Ah!” Anais says nodding, pulling away from Abram who seems uncomfortable under the heavy gaze of my aunt, “A bastard! Even better… Les meilleurs d'entre nous sont.”

The silence that follows is palpable, broken up only by Gigi’s laughing.

I’m careful not to meet my mother’s watchful eye, afraid of what I’ll find if I do.

♡ ♡ ♡

“You wrote to her?” Cerise finally corners me into a guest room hours later, after the twins arrive and dinner was finished, after liquid courage had been pumped into her veins. Her fingers’ encircling my wrist is painful and I wonder where all this rage has come from.

I’ll be the first to admit that I inherited her black anger, a decaying sore that spreads throughout our body—but I’ve never seen her like this. “Elise Beatrice, how selfish of a girl are you?” she demands, teeth exposed, tiny sharp things that threaten to bite through me.

An unamused scoff leaves my barely parted lips, “I’m selfish? For wanting to spend Christmas with my aunt, mother, I fail to see your logic.”

Her fingers recoil, turning her back to me, Cerise runs her hands through the tangle of dark brown hair before reaching down to her wine glasses and swallowing what was left. “Anais has no business here—in this home—and you had no business inviting her.”

“She’s my aunt! She’s your sister—,”

Cerise throws the wine glass against the wall, “Family isn’t always blood, what don’t you understand? She is no more my family than your father is yours.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I try to steel my spine, harden my heart at the mention of that word, but the little girl in me beats her fists against my chest and a few rogue tears fall down my cheek.

At the sight of this, my mother rolls her eyes, “Crying? I raised you better than that. Je ne t'ai pas élevé pour être faible,” she says coolly. Slipping her sweater off, I notice the light bruises that litter her bicep. My eyes follow the violent trail down across her elbow and land on her wrist.

“I don’t think you’re mad at me for inviting Anais here,” I tell her, finding my voice. Bitterness poisons my words as I bite them out through clenched teeth, “You’re afraid your sister will see you as the mess you are. You’re terrified she’ll see that once again, you’ve found love in a man whose fists beat louder than his heart.” Her brown eyes stare back at me, horror mixed with something more—something malicious I had never seen before, “You’re afraid that this will be it—that Anais will finally be better than you at everything.”

Cerise delivers a resounding smack to the right side of my face—so loud that my ear is ringing long after she pulls her sweater back on and disappears into the hall, swallowed by the dark.

I don’t know what makes me cry more—the violence or Abram standing in the door seconds later.

“Abram, just go,” but he doesn’t. I try and stoke the fire in my chest but all my fight has become embers—a ghost of the flames it used to be. Instead, I stand in the middle of the room, shoulders hunched staring at the boy who despite all the warnings, keeps running toward my storm.

In this story, Abram can’t help but become Icarus.

In this story, it’s only a matter of time before I burn his wings.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” I fight through his silence, holding my arms up to keep him at a distance—but as usual, he disregards my walls, knocks into me—a one man wrecking ball. “Leave me alone,” I beg with a little less feeling.

He catches me before my faulty knees give into the shiver, before I crumble into a mess on the floor. He falls with me; arms wrapped tight even as I struggle ( half-heartedly ) to push him away.

I find my anger in my throat and I yell for him to go away—to leave me alone. I yell that I hate him and when there isn’t anything left in my lungs, I lean in to him. Let the comet that has become of my heart hurdle into my ribs so cruelly I can hardly breathe.