#i am talking about the whole essence of the plot and the mediocre in my opinion dialog

[katerinaaqu]

When people create movies: We must be very careful! We need to be respectful as possible. We shall cast very specifically people who have descent from that area or that look like their parts. What do you mean it is just a cartoon? OF COURSE it matters! And we shall also brag about how ethnically correct our voice actors are. And of course it doesn't matter it is fiction because culture behind fiction is important and it needs to be properly featured. Oh no we shall not feature the diversity we know by evidence it existed in the area because we need to focus on the ethnic identity of the indigenous populations

When people create movies featuring ancient Europe: We cast everything because we need diversity on every corner of Europe! What? What do you mean you have objections because the area did not look like this? Racist! Shut the fuck up is just a movie and the cast is very talented! They need empowering and you don't know what you are saying! It IS accurately depicted you just don't know shit! Aww the movie features myths but you have problem with the inaccurate ethnicity? Racist! It is just fiction! It doesn't matter! Your stories don't matter. They are mainstream anyways so who the fuck cares about something that happened thousands of years ago? No one would understand it anyways.

Me: Incredible! And you manage to fuck both of the above examples up because the "ethnically correct" movies are totally stripped of essence and do not give the real powerful cultures that they represent and the second...there ARE amazing examples that are unknown to the public that wait to be explored that involve both cultural diversity AND amazing stories and yet...yeah...

[365days365movies]

May 7, 2021: TRON (1982)

Starting to leave lo-fi sci-fi with this one.

Can I just say, I am VERY excited for this one. Mostly because it’s hard to get more ‘80s than this movie, specifically in terms of computers. I’ll explain. Y’know Jurassic Park? Yeah, the same movie I’ve brought up far, FAR too many times this month. Is...is that my favorite sci-fi movie? Shit, it might be? I’ve read the books, I’ve seen the movie COUNTLESS times...I’m pretty sure it is! Huh. Go figure. Anyway, where was I?

Oh, right! Remember the most irritating character in the movie? This is, in my opinion, older sister Lex Murphy. In the book, for the record, she’s a VERY different character. She’s the youngest sibling amongst the two, and she’s a sports nerd who hates dinosaurs. And she’s also the most annoying character in the book, so at least they kept that consistent. However, you may be saying to yourself: “Jesus, this dude really loves Jurassic Park. Even in the intro for Tron, he’s talking about it. Why the hell does he keep bringing it up?”

Well, allow me to explain. When I was 9 years old, I was super into two things: dinosaurs and reading. You may think that I wasn’t very popular in school as a result. And the truth won’t surprise you. Anyway, on January 3rd, 2001, it was a cold morning in the supermarket when

...OK, lemme get to the point. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM!

See, this moment when Lex hacks into the computer to reactivate the locks (a task given to Tim in the book, but whatever) does two things. One, it makes Lex relevant in a film and story where she’s almost entirely unneeded. And two, it established something in the minds of movie-watchers everywhere: a completely misguided idea of what computer programming is.

And this is just one of MANY examples of Hollywood weirdly representing computers to the public. This was kind of a trend throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, as computers were beginning to become available to the public. Examples are:

WarGames (1983), dir. John Badham

Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), dir. James Cameron

Revenge of the Nerds (1984), dir. Jeff Kanew

Weird Science (1985), dir, John Hughes

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), dir. Russo Bros

That last one isn’t a great example, and it’s not even within the right time period. I just love Arnim Zola, and he NEEDS TO RETURN to the MCU. Goddamn it, I want this guy back, complete with his full robot body! COME ON FIEGE, LOOK AT THIS GUY! That last one may or may not be my fanart for the character with my own design NEVERTHEGODDAMNLESS!

Look, all you gotta do is connect the various machinations of Arnim Zola to the foundations of AIM, which is easy given their link in the comics. Zola and his fellow Paperclip scientists helped fund Aldrich Killian’s AIM, and the project to give Zola his sick-ass robot body eventually wound up being a part of the project that would create the hovering robotic chair used by this guy.

THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED PLEASE

...Ahem.

Anyway, the weird-ass ways that Hollywood’s represented computers, hacking, and all other associated things can be traced back to 1982, when the first film to use mostly computer generated imagery for its setting was created. This was, of course, Disney’s TRON. And while I haven’t seen it before...I’ve see its sequel in theaters?

On a related note, Tron Legacy might be a mediocre film with a mediocre soundtrack, but GODDAMN DO IT LOVE THE FUCKING VISUALS. It’s genuinely my favorite aesthetic. That whole “outlined in light” thing? Goooooooh, BABY, how I love it.

Style over substance, but OH THE FUCKING STYLE

Anyway, despite that, I’m looking forward to seeing where the whole thing came from. I dig that style, too. Is there a name for those aesthetics? Let me know, so I can devote my life to it forever. Anyway, shall we get started?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

So, we start this movie off with a BANG, jumping into an arcade where two kids are playing none other than Lightcycle, and jumping into said Lightcycles to meet one of the drivers, Sark (David Warner). A sadistic program, he takes great pleasure in executing programs in Lightcycle races.

One of these programs, in fact, is being brought into imprisonment now, to be set against Sark in a race. The program, Crom (Peter Jurasik), speaks with fellow prisoner Ram (Dan Shor), where we get some idea of the lore of this place. Many programs believe in “the Users”, god-like figures who they believe created them and tell them what to do. However, the mysterious Master Control Program is rounding up the programs that believe in Users, taking over their functions or executing them. Diggin’ the lore so far.

In the real world, we meet Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), a computer programmer commanding his own program, Clu (also Bridges), and...look, I’m not sure what they’re doing, but OHHH. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM, BABY. The beautiful bullshit that this movie uses to denote computer activity and programming, it’s...MMMMMMMMMCHEF’SKISS, it’s so FUCKING GOOD!

Anyway, Clu’s apparently being sent to find some information, but he’s caught by Master Control. Jeff Bridges shows off some pretty over-the-top acting, but it’s charming as hell. Clu’s interrogated by Master Control Program (also Warner), and killed, or “derezzed”. This frustrates Flynn, but why?

Well, we get a clue from MCPs concentration with Ed Dillinger (David Warner), who arrives at his office in the COOLEST FUCKING HELICOPTER I HAVE EVER SEEN. I will never make enough money to have this helicopter, but maybe one day I can do it to a car, holy shit. Anyway, Dillinger lands and enters the ENCOM building, where he speaks with his computer table, which contains MCP.

Is this a thing with computer programmers? Do they, like, physically talk to their programs, and the programs talk back? Is this a thing that happens? Are the conversations interesting? Are IT people literally computer-whisperers? I gotta talk to my friends in computer sciences and IT about this.

Apparently, Flynn’s been snooping around their servers for a specific file, and they’re trying to stop him from getting that file. Meanwhile, in an office in the building, a man named Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner) is blocked out of the system in an attempt to flush out Flynn’s location. Bradley’s summoned to the office for what seems like a routine interview, but is actually more of an investigation. Doesn’t go anywhere.

On a side note, by the way, it would appear that MCP is somewhat in control of Dillinger. Although, how and why is unknown. In any case, he’s attempting to amass power. Additionally, the fact that he’s directly speaking to one of the Users is...interesting. And on a second side note, Bradley is preparing something, a security program called “Tron”. That might come up later.

MEANWHILE, elsewhere in the building, a group of scientists are conducting an experiment to digitize solid matter and transport it into computers. It succeeds with an orange, much to their delight and celebration. One of these scientists is Lora Baines (Cindy Morgan), Flynn’s ex-girlfriend and Alan’s current girlfriend. They go to the arcade to reconvene with Flynn, much to Alan’s irritation.

Flynn not only owns the place, he’s also a game whiz, brilliant computer programmer, and recently fired ex-employee of ENCOM. He’s also been sneaking into the ENCOM system, and he details exactly why he’s moving against them. While working for ENCOM, he had started writing programs for some very complex video games, which could’ve have made him quite a bit of money. But Dillinger stole his files, and uses it to climb up the ranks to Senior Executive of ENCOM, while Flynn lounges in relative poverty. He’s planning on getting into the system to get evidence of Dillinger’s wrongdoing.

The trio plots to take down Dillinger and get the evidence together, breaking into ENCOM that night. Meanwhile, Dillinger’s meeting with Walter Gibbs (Barnard Hughes), a co-founder of the company, and one of the other scientists who made the digitizing machine. Dillinger says YOUR TIME IS OVER OLD MAN, and brushes off his concerns about he’s handing the company.

He’s not the only one with issues, as MCP decides to take over FOR Dillinger. Apparently, Dillinger’s talents are stealing data and creating Cybernet/HAL 9000. Good job, buddy. But that may end, when Alan goes to finish and install his program, Tron, which will hopefully take MCP down. Meanwhile, Lora and Flynn go to the basement with the digitizing machine. At the computer terminal, MCP decides to stop Flynn by...well, you know where this is headed.

Yup! Flynn’s brought into the computer by Lora’s machine, and is digitized and put into the game grid. And since we’ll be spending a lot of time there, I think I need to acknowledge something: I really love how this movie looks. The CGI is rudimentary, but it’s used surprisingly well. Consider that this is also made in an era where this is the kind of imagery that computers could literally generate at the time, and you’ve got a pretty great movie in-context.

Flynn, now in those spiffy program duds, is sent by the MCP to compete in the Game Grid, under Sark’s supervision and tutelage. He’s thrown into the brig with the other imprisoned programs, where he learns more about this world. Once brought into the throes of the Game Grid, he’s told that those who believe in the Users are to be trained poorly, ensuring their inevitable death. Meanwhile, those who renounce their belief will be spared. And of all the programs who still believe in the Users, there is none quite as powerful...as Tron (Bruce Boxleitner again).

We see Tron’s badass skills in Ultimate Frisbee. And OK, it’s not Ultimate Frisbee, but you throw discs that contain all of your essence and all of the things you’ve learned in your time there. You basically pour your entire essence and being into the disc as you throw it. So, really, it is Ultimate Frisbee, according to that one dude who’s REALLY into Ultimate Frisbee.

Flynn is commanded to play one of these games, and he winds fairly easily. However, when he defeats his opponent, he’s almost about to die. However, Flynn refuses to finish him off, leading Sark to do so instead. And Sark is tempted to kill Flynn as well, but he holds off at the last moment.

Flynn finally gets to meet Tron, where he feigns being a program that knows of his User, Alan. Of course, Tron looks exactly like Alan, which is why Flynn blurts out his name. But as they’re discussing this, Flynn, Tron, and fellow prisoner Ram are sent to compete in the Lightcycles. And, yes, I’m now looking for a game like this on my phone, because GODDAMN to I love Lightcycles. Can’t WAIT for the Disney World ride, oh my GOOOOD. 

So, our guys get in the Lightcycles, and they outmaneuver Sark’s guys. They’re actually able to escape the arena and the Game Grid, making it outside the citadel. They encounter a, uh, bitstream, and soak up some energy before moving on. On the way, though, they’re nearly killed by Sark’s guys in tanks, and Tron is separated from Flynn an the unconscious Ram.

Flynn and Ram finds a place to rest and hide, and Flynn discovers that, as a User, he actually has the ability to somewhat manipulate the reality within the computer, and he makes a version of MCPs ships, the Recognizers, which resemble the villains in Flynn’s game that Dillinger stole. Now realizing that Flynn is a user, Ram asks him to help Tron, before dying and disappearing into pure code. Whoof.

Tron, meanwhile, ends up finding an input/output program named Yori (Cindy Morgan), who helps him in his escape. She takes him through the city, where we see some interesting designs for control programs, almost like a Hunger Games Panem sort of deal.

Flynn has trouble driving his ship, as he meets a “bit”, a small bit of data that only answers in yes or no. He, too, ends up in the city, and you start to notice that this film has a really heavy influence in our cyberpunk concepts and fashions today. Honestly, I really dig this whole thing. Kevin uses his programming powers to disguise himself as one of Sark’s guards, while Yori and Tron find their way through the main citadel of the guards.

They make their way through to the access tower, where they ask the program Dumont (Barnard Hughes again) to let them access the interface that will allow them to speak with the Users, specifically Alan. Reluctantly, Dumont agrees to let Tron through, where he goes to the access port. Which, for the record, looks awesome. He goes to speak with Alan, and he does that one pose. Y’know, the famous Tron pose that’s on the poster?

Yeah, that’s the good stuff. Anyway, he gets information written onto his disc that’ll allow him to kill MCP. Neat. And unfortunately, that’s exactly when Sark and his guys show up, taking Dumont away as Tron and Yori escape. Yori gets them onto a Solar Sailer, a device that will transport them to the central computer. Tron fends off some of Sark’s guys with video game noise kicks, and the Solar Sailer arrives to take them away.

Sark chases after them, but the pair manage to outrun his very cool-looking ship. MCP threatens to destroy Sark for his failure, but he promises that he’ll be able to get them. On the ship, Tron looks down at the side to see Flynn hanging on. Turns out that he was one of the guards that attacked the two. Tron pulls him up onto the ship, and Flynn reveals that he is, in fact, a user. He also reveals that Users aren’t exactly the gods that programs believe them to be.

Anyway, how’s Dumont doing?

Ah.

Well, the Recognizers find Tron, Yori, and Flynn, and chase after them on the light beam the Solar Sailer is on. However, with his User powers, Flynn manages to get the Sailer onto a different beam, while pulses on the original beam destroy the Recognizers.

Doesn’t end up mattering much, though, as Sark finally catches up and intercepts the group. The Solar Sailer is destroyed, and Yori and Flynn are thrown in the brig with Dumont, who’s still alive! Can’t say quite as much for Tron, apparently. But, again, I can only assume that Ton is still alive. We’ll see, though. Sark denies Flynn’s identity as a User for some reason (I mean, MCP told you who he was, but OK), and he sentences them all to death. Outside the ship, of course, is Tron, who’s hiding and waiting for the right time to strike. And that is when we finally see him.

Glorious. Absolutely goddamn glorious. MCP is taking the remaining programs that believe in Users, Dumont included, and incorporating them into his mass. Meanwhile, Sark has found Tron, and the two are fighting with a classic game of Ultimate Frisbee. Tron nearly defeats Sark entirely, but MCP revives him, and gives him the power to take out Tron. He grows gigantic, and it looks genuinely really convincing.

Flynn prepares to take out MCP once and for all, and kisses Yori just beforehand, which is weird as shit. He jumps into the program, and controls it just long enough for Tron to throw his disc at it and land the finishing blow. And with that, MCP is ended, and the threat of take over is gone! The I/O towers light up, and the Video Warriors have won! Don’t ask me what that means, I study birds.

And with ALL OF THAT DONE, Flynn gets the proof he needs from a print-out that, to be honest, I feel like he could’ve just typed up himself. It doesn’t look like that much. But, still, MCP is gone, Dillinger’s screwed, and Flynn now gets a cool-looking helicopter of his own, as the new CEO of ENCOM. And from there, he will become a deadbeat dad that abandons his kid to live in computers forever. Or something like that, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Tron Legacy.

And that’s Tron, a goofy movie of its time, but one that’s a lot of fun all the same. And with some effects that, to be honest...I actually really liked! But more on that...IN THE REVIEW! See you there!

[veridium]

fuck it, queer meta.

About a year ago I wrote one of my first and largest meta posts about why I consider Cassandra a prime example of queerbaiting despite her being a character who explicitly says she is heterosexual. This lead to quite the day of inbox hate mail from people throughout the fandom. Most were upset I used the “q slur” and left it untagged as such in the big DA meta tags. I can imagine for those folks, the substance of what I had to say mattered little as a result. 

I deleted most of those messages and my responses soon afterward. They upset me greatly even as I took it all in stride. However, given that it’s been about 365 days since that fiasco, and some interesting events have happened with regards to current and former DA writers, I thought it would be “fun” to write a recap and reflection on why, generally, I still feel the way I did when I wrote that post. With some changes and growth, of course. 

The gist of it is, as we have come to learn in past, recent, and ongoing discourses in fandom, that much to the chagrin of a lot of folks in this fandom: BioWare, and in this instance DA writers, are not your SJW Icons. Furthermore, they never should have been, or should be, considered as such. 

The gist (part two) for me, is: for as much as diverse characters, worlds, and societies are being uplifted by Games these days, the counterbalance of bullshit is still there. And I think it survives most sturdily in the kind of logic the BioWare writing culture throughout the years. This sense of egalitarian, “of course” logic, that appears to make socially deviant identities normalized but really just falsely positions those identities as meant to be in lock-step with the norm. Representation to gaming, and most of media writ large, all-too-easily falls into the trap of “we want what the privileged have,” which it to say, we want our existence to be a no-brainer, even if it means we lost the essence of why our stories are so profound, important, and necessary to do justice. 

I really can’t imagine accepting the way characters like Cassandra were written because I don’t accept the writer(s) who wrote her. Why?

Come with me, and we’ll be, in a world, of pure fuckery...but with citations...because I’m an Academic and that’s my roll.*

*Please see tags for pertinent content warnings before clicking.**

**if you reblog and tag this shit with “q slur,” I will take all the reserves of understanding I have as a DA fic writer for all of the enraged womxn in the series and express it accordingly. And, as a femslash-oriented author, I can promise you: that expression will be consumptive. 

Hm, I wonder, what with the predominant writer for her character inquires on Twitter for “lesbian fanfic porn” recommendations for writing “research,” but seems to be unable to hire appropriate creatives to write, consult, etc. for the project. 

Or that the writers room made, and continues to make, space for a writer who continually does Black and queer characters dirty with his mediocre-at-best work, in both game and novel form (because, plot twist, he’s a shit writer) (1) (2) (3). 

Or that the writer’s room, and specifically Ga*der, attesting that the development of the Qunari was based on Arab cultures around the time of “Medieval Europe,” which is somehow his way of getting out of the thematic botching of the Qunari language, social structure, etc. from Islamic tradition. 

Or, the writers who intentionally shaped the story so that Vivienne, one of the limited number of Black women characters in the entire series to have a role as an ally, to be a red herring of an distrustful and conceited antagonist, to the point where her treatment by fandom has been incredibly racist, heinous, and lazy for years.

These are a few of MANY reasons, with thorough exposition, why the veneer of “progressive inclusion” studios like BioWare claim to be authentic. Having “diverse” writers in the room -- and I’m using that word incredibly tenuously here -- didn’t change the result of any of these harmful scenarios. In fact, it created them. This, combined with the tale as old as time: toxic fandom culture with white, anglo-centric, cisheterosexual masculinist ideals at the fore, have gotten us here. 

So, do I hold all of the reasons why I am angry about Cassandra’s character writing the same way now, as I did then? No. Certainly not. In fact, there are parts where I would correct myself. On the other hand, the thesis for me remains largely preserved: I revile G*ider, I revile that he gets the accolades he does by fandom for his “diversity” of characters when he exploits, erases, and uses slippery morality to get out of admitting he has shortcomings in his work. I hate that the exaltation for representation still funnels itself onto the heads of white writers and predominantly white-staffed studios. 

And, underneath it all, I am mad that some of ya’ll see no problem with that. Because what does it matter, if you do not come from communities, cultures, and coalitions that get the brunt of this misrepresentation? What does it matter if it angers a lesbian fan that the writers who have a long history of misusing and conveniently copping themselves out when they write women and queer characters, seem to use that “expertise” as permission to do what they are supposedly combating?

G*ider, the hero himself, is on written record saying that it should not be second guessed as to why Cassandra is straight, just as he thinks it should not be second guessed that Dorian is gay. Yet, when he asked on Twitter if there was some moral significance to people modding character’s sexuality (in this specific instance, Dorian, actually), G*ider said that in the end, people’s mods “do not change” what he wrote, and that unless they claim their changes “supercede” canon, there’s no harm done. 

So, really, I’m just over here like -- is this ya’lls hero?

Why in the fuck would someone be modding a gay character to be bisexual or heterosexual, if they didn’t somehow believe that version “supercedes” the canon rendition? Secondly, where is the attention to the fact that, in an ensemble of multiple romanceable characters, Dorian has to be the one that has to be sexually and romantically accessible to those outside of his canonical realm of attraction?

I mean, for fuck’s sake, it’s the whole virtue grounding his companion side quest, the fact that he is estranged from his Father who tried to magically change his orientation! This is a crucial part of Dorian’s entire journey to serving the Inquisition, and serving Tevinter as a dissident.

But, you know, it doesn’t change what G*ider wrote. And he’s correct, it doesn’t change what he wrote, which he got credit, money, and esteem for. It doesn’t change that if you load up the base game, Dorian’s gay. In G*ider’s head, that is the protective force: the parts where he has ties, and not the culture of the fandom, the culture the fans who helped fill his pockets from that game have to dwell within. This isn’t revolutionary, this isn’t good-faith representation. This is getting a piece of the rotten-sweet pie and saying “let bygones be bygones, you toxic, funky heteronormative assholes!”

But, where are my manners. I’m getting heated, aren’t I?

Basically, if you condemn queer fans for calling out queer bating -- or any marginalized fan for throwing up the alarm for bullshit -- and your first reaction is to side with folks like G*ider who got theirs and said screw everything else, fuck off. Literally, fuck off. I call Cassandra’s circumstance queerbaiting because she’s one example of writers getting their cake and eating it, too. If they are so aware of just how much of their fanbase is marginalized folks, they don’t get to say they don’t have fingerprints on things like queerbaiting. You don’t get to be acclaimed and excused for the shit you say you are combating, which is the source of that acclaim. And if your claim is happy ignorance, then you definitely don’t get to blithely equivocate when fans do ask you why the story happened the way it did. 

I also just want to keep in mind here that there’s a deductive conclusion to be had about this, given how La*idlaw explicitly stated they endeavored to make Cassandra extremely hot, “really enticing.” That conclusion is: 

(1) Either they aren’t/weren’t nearly as attuned to their queer audiences as they generally claim to be, or 

(2) They were, and had no intention of developing compassion or empathy passed G*ider talking out of his ass about why Cassandra was developed as straight. Which, ultimately, does coincide with conclusion (1) more than not. 

No matter what, the contour to the conclusion is: wow, a taste of nauseating objectification, in the BioWare writer’s room. Who knew!

It’s no wild accusation to make to a writer like him and his colleagues, that they don’t know how to handle sapphic, wlw, and/or queer-related storylines, especially with women. Especially when the answer seems to be, “well, it was decided before I took the lead, and in any case, why question it! You wouldn’t question a gay character’s orientation!”

But that’s just it, you complete and utter turnip. People did question Dorian’s sexuality. People do question Dorian’s sexuality. That fantasy world of equal bearings is as insincere as it is out-of-touch. And why not, when, as you said, 

it doesn’t change what you got paid for.

The ethos seems to be crudely reflexive: people’s phobic interpretations and alterations of the canon do not matter, but then again, why would you even question why a character is straight? Why would you question my narrative vision, in all of its beautiful shittery?

It’s all a game of dodge, ya’ll. Dodge, dodge, dodge. With a strong and acidic dose of vanity. 

So. In summation, folks: I could care less for your false equivalences. I could care less about my contribution of queer content fucking up your good time in the meta tags. Obviously you aren’t there to actually engage in creative, exploratory thought, so why bother reasoning. There is more to the possibilities of queerbaiting than stringing along a could-be, would-be, should-be queer storyline directly. There’s knowing your audience enough to exploit your good graces with them. There’s benefitting from a charade of liberal progressive clout. There’s the ability to foresee that queer people will cathect to a given character, and not only denying an experience they could have, but denying it so harshly that the character says they can’t love yours because you’re female. 

And I am so, so, so sick of these people continually enriching themselves off of the “nobody’s perfect” grace. To me, that grace is the promise of good faith, and the intention to do right by people. When that isn’t there, the grace isn’t going somewhere where it’ll be appreciated, that it will be nourished by. I mean, fucking hell, people, this is rainbow capitalism: don’t you taste it?

That’s that, then. “Cassandra and Queerbaiting Rant,” one year on. An extra dose of salt, just for the haters. 

[mattzerella-sticks]

Self Insert, s15 coda, M, 3.8k

(TW: overdosing - no deaths, but a lot of pills are taken at once)

Ever since finding out that Chuck has been writing their lives, the Winchesters are going off script more than usual. And each act of free will spits on all of Chuck's work and muddles his sharp, writer's mind. It's bad enough he has to babysit a powerful demon he brought back from the Empty, but now he can't write the ending the Winchesters deserve. How can he create an epic, gut-wrenching ending when he's being given domesticity, wallowing, and a badass Castiel to work with. All of it useless to him.

There's nothing anchoring his work. No puppeteer to pull the strings. But somehow Lilith proves her worth and finds the silver lining in the stormy skies.

Chuck raids Becky’s bathroom cabinet, mirrored door swinging wildly on its hinges while he searches for aspirin. Another migraine rips across his temple, flaring as powerful as a dying star. He curses, tossing lotions and bottles randomly until he finds the economy sized tub. “Thank me,” he sighs, grabbing it and twisting the cap off. One pill wouldn’t cut it, so Chuck poured the bottle down his throat until his cheeks puffed. Then he races to the kitchen for a pitcher of water to wash it down with.

Lilith watches on, unamused by the laughable scene of God overpowered by a simple headache. “Really?” she starts, waiting until Chuck leans against the counter with an empty pitcher in hand, “You couldn’t snap your fingers and make it go away?”

He shoots her a glare but she doesn’t wilt. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“But swallowing enough pills that could take down all of Jonestown helps?”

“Maybe?” Chuck shrugs, “Power of suggestion?” As he says that, another beat of pain flares up. Dropping the pitcher, he rubs at his forehead. It shatters against the tiles. Chuck walks away, muttering, “Clean that up.”

“Oh, that’s all I am now?” Lilith snarls, defiant, “Your maid ? Not even good enough to be a plot device anymore?”

Another headache wiggles at the base of his skull, where a set of fiery white eyes burn into him. “You weren’t even that good of one to begin with.”

“Excuse me!”

Chuck scrubs his hands over his face, frozen, waiting for the avalanche he knocked over to bury him. Lilith stomps towards him, each blow to the floor adding to his already drumming head. She claws at his arm and forces him to look at her. “ What ?”

“You know what,” she says, squinting up at him, “You wake me up, bring me here, give me one night of freedom and then…? Nothing ! There’s only so much you can do in a damn house. Especially one that doesn’t have any cable !”

Chuck copies her disdainful expression. “There’s wi-fi.”

“That doesn’t help me when you have the only laptop!” Lilith yells at him, “Give me something to do, dammit. Otherwise just send me back to the Empty!”

“I gave you something to do,” he lobs back at her, “And you did it poorly .”

“I got you the Equalizer!”

“You got rid of the Equalizer!”

“Which I still haven’t been thanked for,” she says, hands flying above her, “I know you’re the Almighty Father but would it kill you to express the smallest amount of gratitude? I mean, no wonder Lucifer fell like he did…”

Chuck feels anger bubbling up inside him. Instead of wrecking his current base of operations he directs the maelstrom towards a distant galaxy light years away. Decimates three planets and freezes the core of their sun so the rest of that solar system dies slowly. “I wanted it.”

“For what reason?” she asks,”What reason would possibly warrant you keeping a weapon that can kill you around? It makes no sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense!” Chuck tells her, voice loud and enriched with power, “Out of the two of us here there’s only one God and it’s me… I don’t have to tell you anything . I don’t have to keep you here .”

“But you do,” Lilith says, “Not out torturing the Winchesters or their friends. Not back in the Empty sleeping for the rest of eternity. No, I’m here because you need me. Need me to sit around and read through every different ending you’ve written, being slowly driven mad because I’m the one forced to entertain your mediocre bullshit - nggh!”

Lilith hovers inches off the ground. She claws at her neck, where an invisible force applies excess amounts of pressure. Breathing doesn’t matter, but with her windpipe crushed she can’t speak. The pain comes when Chuck’s eyes glow a blinding blue and parts of her essence shrivel from the exposure.

In a blink the light show ends and she falls. Chuck steps to her, glaring at her crumpled form. “You want to know the real reason why you’re not back in the game?” he scoffs, “The Equalizer was only number one on the list of things you seriously screwed up. Because of you, the Winchesters know I’m working behind the scenes! You took my hand and laid every card I had on the table. Your whole chapter went nothing like I wrote !”

“That wasn’t my fault,” she coughs, wiping at her mouth, “You stuck me with lumps and expected statues . Of course nothing was going to plan.”

“Maybe if you tried harder the Winchesters would have responded better -”

“Winchesters?” Lilith laughs, a rough, hollow melody that grates on his nerves. “Kind of a roundabout way of saying Dean , don’t you think?”

Like being shot by Sam again, Chuck recoils from the strike. He considers flexing his power, destroying her and bringing her back again, only to settle after deeming it a waste. “No, it’s not… you failed with both of them -”

“So I was supposed to seduce both of them?” Lilith says, “Because I read your flimsy excuse of a first draft and that part with Sam wasn’t included. In fact, Sam was hardly mentioned in it at all. You still nursing a… wound ?”

Chuck brushes the joke off, shoulder tensing under his jacket. Tendrils of pain squeezing the muscles where the bullet rests. “Sam wasn’t that important then… it was you and Dean  -”

“And the knock-off erotica you wrote in which I, trapped playing a barely legal philosophy major, seduce Big Brother Winchester and we have crazy sex where I’m moaning and screaming ‘That’s it! Slam into my tight, little, virginal ass, Dean’!” She writhes on the floor, giving a Meg Ryan-worthy performance. Lilith stops with one hand tangled in her hair while the other supports her arched back. Bedroom eyes replaced with a harsh gaze. “Sorry I didn’t become the little porn star you wanted daddy. ”

He grabs her arm and drags Lilith to her feet. “I didn’t realize you treated that scene like a joke.”

“I could have,” she tells him, “Really play up the innocent school girl routine, but whatever I would’ve sold Dean wouldn’t have bought.”

“Of course he would have,” Chuck says, defensive, “This is Dean we’re talking about. He should’ve been all over you in that motel room.”

“Well he wasn’t.”

“Because you weren’t playing up your character’s sexuality enough,” he argues, “I made it really easy for you, too, what with all the aphrodisiacs I wrote in. Do you know how hard it is to insert ideas into someone’s head that they should change the layout of their motel rooms so they had mood lighting and antlers everywhere? In such a short time? No!” His finger jabs at her, close enough he nearly pokes her eye. “Since I’m ninety-nine-point-nine-nine infallible than the problem was definitely you .”

Lilith scowls at him, sharp teeth poking between her lips. “Like I keep telling you, it wasn’t me - and it also wasn’t you. It was Dean, he wasn’t interested .”

“Because you weren’t -”

“No!” she shouts over him, “Because he’s not the Dean you knew! Because he realized how creepy it is hooking up with a girl who’s almost half his age ! Who only seconds before was crying about how awful her life was because she felt like she had no purpose. I bet that at no moment of knowing ‘Ashley’ did he think her purpose was to happily take his wrinkled dick and fondle some saggy balls for fifteen seconds until he came and fell asleep without even attempting to return the favor! I’m tired of saying this but he is not the man you know anymore!” Lilith’s chest heaves with the force of her words, a few of the figurines in the room tipping over from how wild her power shot during her tirade. Like whips of electric energy she tore through the room, shattering picture frames and upending Becky’s model Roadhouse.

Chuck watches her through slitted eyes. He snaps his fingers and the room repairs itself. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chuck says, “Of course I know him - I know all of them. They’re my creations. Nothing’s changed about them, not at all.”

“So you’re completely ignoring what showed up today?”

A shadow passes over his face at the question. Another tidal wave of pain roars through his mind, every nerve in his body swept in its destructive path. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure it isn’t,” Lilith says, backing away, “That’s why you spent all that time ripping it to shreds only for it to reappear on your desk like it never happened -”

“Lilith.”

“I took a peak, of course,” she admits, “I found it… I didn’t immediately hand it over. Like I said, I’m bored . It was interesting… very different than a lot of other things I’d been forced to read.”

“Stop it, I mean it -”

“Dean Winchester, our charming man of action, holed up in his room eating his feelings and nursing some heartbreak,” Lilith mocks, tone heavy with cruel delight. “Sam, the boy afraid of his own powers, taking ownership of his affluence and ability with magic. And Castiel the - actually, I don’t really know how to describe him. The angel never really comes up in your writings. I don’t know why seeing how hot that action scene was. If you wanted me to seduce him, I wouldn’t really mind… if Meg could do it then so can I -”

“ Enough .” Chuck snarls, windows shattering all around the house. Pain from the migraine becomes too much to deal with so he sinks to his knees, unable to use his powers and fix the broken glass. All he can do is focus all his energy on his breathing while he fights the chaos of free will tearing up his future.

When he feels more in control again Chuck opens his eyes and chances a look at Lilith. The angry expression on her face melted into a more unusual one. Curiosity easily shines in her eyes at his pathetic display, outlined with an odd hue of fear. Returning to full height, both school their expressions into masked indifference.

“Those pages were garbage ,” he tells Lilith, “they were… fanfiction . It’s not how it’s supposed to go. Sam’s happiness… Castiel’s confidence and Dean…” Chuck can’t bear to utter the next few words. “Whoever wrote those doesn’t know all the work I put into creating these characters. All the specifics of their characteristics that makes them who they are. That makes them butt heads and become their own worst enemies! I’m the author! Whatever I write is canon! And I do not like being mocked .”

“But you were, Chuck,” Lilith says, a softer approach, “Today you wrote the fanfiction… the story where Dean leaves Sam behind to drown in booze and women didn’t happen. Sam choosing to sacrifice the body of the woman he loves to destroy Rowena’s magic didn’t happen. Castiel being too late to save that mother and kid because he was paralyzed by his depression… that didn’t happen . None of what you’re writing will happen if you sit behind a desk and pray for it to work. Sometimes you need to put the effort in and bend the rules to fit your game.”

Chuck arches a brow in her direction. “Deus ex machina?” he frowns, “I kinda prefer keeping my arrival until the very end… I am God after all. If I show up too early then where’s the plot gonna go?”

“And yet the story of the Winchesters keeps going even though you're a recurring character,” she shakes her head. Lilith inches closer to him, smirking. “This isn’t the time to be holding back. Grand finales mean bringing in your heavy hitters, like yours truly . Who cares if you show up early? Every moment from beginning to end should be filled with adrenaline and action and not this… domestic crap.”

It’s a convincing argument, Lilith presenting her case with honeyed words fashioned to sweeten his ears. Except he doesn’t trust her enough to suspect that her goals are far less charitable than helping him with his runaway characters. In a room full of quickly-closing corners, however, he will take the first exit presented.

“That’s not a terrible idea,” he says, walking towards the study. Lilith follows. “Since Belphegor’s arc wrapped up way too early for him to be the Big Bad… there has been something missing in my work. No wonder Dean and Sam have been circling the drain!”

“It helps they’re already gunning for you,” Lilith adds, sitting in a nearby chair, “Good luck taking you off the board though seeing you’re God .”

Chuck relaxes behind his desk, staring at an open Word document. “But they’re putting up a united front. Kind of makes it hard to have one kill the other when there’s nothing driving them apart.”

“You could have Sam find out what Dean said to -”

“There’s nothing driving them apart.”

“Then be what drives them apart.”

“ How ?”

“I thought you were the writer here?” she scoffs, swinging her legs up over the armrest.

He rolls his eyes. “You said you wanted something to do, right? Help me come up with a wedge.”

“Kind of a waste of my skills…”

“You’d rather I send you into some other girl,” Chuck asks, “have you try and seduce Dean all over again?”

Lilith scowls. “Why don’t you try and seduce him.”

“What?”

“You seduce Dean,” she repeats, “You’re so obsessed with who he sleeps with, clearly you’re sporting a chub for the guy. Every scene you write with him in it makes it obvious, even the ones where he dies at Sam’s hands. No one needs to know how handsome a guy is moments away from death.”

Chuck shrugs, nervously fiddling with his glasses. “Debatable…”

“So why don’t you hop on his dick and get off mine.” She reaches behind her for one of the figures on display, snatching a Dean with opposable joints. Swinging his arm, Lilith takes the knife in its hand and has the miniature Winchester stab himself over and over again.

He pays her no mind, mulling over Lilith’s sarcastic suggestion. “Y’know…” Chuck mumbles, putting on his glasses, “that could work…” Chuck’s fingers begin typing. The story unfolds easily now that the missing element - himself - was added to the page. A wicked smile unfurls the more he types.

Hours pass, and Chuck has a working idea of how the Winchesters’ world will end.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Sam carries a few books through the Bunker’s main room when he hears the door open from above. Glancing up he finds Dean casually strolling down the steps. A swagger in his posture that hadn’t been present in a long while. So taken aback he nearly let his brother walk away without the stern interrogation he planned.

“Dean,” he starts, “where were you?”

Dean pauses under the archway, facing away from Sam. His hand pressed against the wall. “Out.”

“Out?” Sam scoffs, “That’s it?”

“Yeah. I was out.”

“Without leaving a note or answering mine or Cas’s calls and texts?” Sam stomps over, scowling, “You complain all this time about him ignoring us. And the moment he gets here you turn tail and leave? What’s the matter with you?”

Dean shrugs, showing a sliver of his handsome profile to Sam. “Had better things to do then waste hours running in circles with you and a fallen angel.”

Sam’s expression hardens. “Out, huh?” he asks, “Did you go to the jerk store?”

“No,” Dean says, “now are we done? Can you go back to your bitch party?”

“Dammit, Dean!” He grabs his brother’s shoulder and spins him around, stomach clenching at the disinterested stare that greets him. “I thought we were done with this, man! If we’re gonna have any chance to take down Chuck than I need you here, with us. Knowing he’s still playing with our lives it’s… I know it’s hard. But none of us will make it out alive if we’re keeping each other at a distance.”

Dean pouts throughout Sam’s speech, but a spark flickers in his eyes. His tight shoulders droop under an invisible weight, and the indifferent mask breaks. “Sorry,” he says, “I… I know. I get it. But I didn’t want to sit and read and… I found this case in Texas. Thought Chuck was tied to it. Figured you and Cas were okay to sit tight and handle the research while I hit the field.”

Sam sighs, the knot in his chest unwinding. “That’s… okay. Wish you still told us but… did it pan out?”

“What do you think?” Dean shrugs. He scrubs a tired hand over his perfect jaw, plush lips stretching under his touch. “It… it didn’t turn out so well. Wasn’t so much Chuck as it was a djinn. Handled it anyway.”

“That’s… that’s good,” Sam says, attempting a smile, “You feel any better killing it?”

He shakes his head. “Not exactly what I wanted to kill at the time.”

Seeing his brother crack open his hard shell eases some of the tension between them. Sam inches closer, bringing his brother into a hug. Going slow to give Dean enough time to escape. When he doesn’t, Sam wraps his arms around his brother. “We’ll find a way to get Chuck,” Sam tells him, “and the second we get him you’ll have first dibs.”

Dean shifts in his hold. “Funny thing, Sam,” Dean mumbles, “I’m not in the mood to kill Chuck, either.”

“What -”?

Snkkt

A burning pain rips through his chest from where the blade sunk in. Blood rushes up his throat and bubbles in his mouth, Sam spluttering while it leaks from his parted lips. The books in his hand crash to the floor and he stumbles backwards in shock.

Dean watches him with a soft glee highlighting the crinkles near his gorgeous eyes. Sam darts his gaze from his brother’s face to the red-stained knife in his hands. His hands rush to cover the wound, but the blood continues gushing. “W-what…?”

“Enchanted,” Dean tells him, wiggling the weapon like a toy, “got it from a special friend.”

“You…” Sam’s legs give out and he crumbles to the floor, “How…”

A slow clap echoes in the room, drawing Sam’s attention. He uses all the strength left in him to crane his neck to where the sound originates.

Chuck, in a burgundy blazer and pressed black slacks, stands over them. Sam’s eyes widen as he descends the stairs. “Y-you,” Sam mutters, on his hands at this point, “How… why…”

“It’s easy,” Chuck says, passing him on his way to Dean. His brother welcomes him gladly, adoration shining. Darkness edges his vision, but Sam can still see how Dean nuzzles Chuck’s hand when it rubs his cheek. Accepts a kiss as he bleeds out in front of him. “Dean finally understands his place in the story…”

“Your word is law, baby,” Dean says, “Whatever you want, I’ll do.”

“You know what I’d really love…?”

In his final moments Sam becomes a third party to the scene about to play out. Chuck whispers to him, mouth hidden. Dean nods and drops to his knees. His last breath intermingles with the jingle of Dean removing Chuck’s belt. Chuck’s zipper being undone one of the last thing he hears. Sam’s life eeks out of him, and he dies knowing his brother has and will continue to service the very being that controlled their lives from the beginning.

“If only you knew, Sam,” Chuck says, “the glory that comes from giving your life to God…”

-------------------------------------------

Chuck waits for Lilith to finish, leaning on his desk while she reads the printed pages. It’s been very silent, a worrisome song for writers when faced with readers. But given the variety of faces she shuffled through Chuck feels his nerves untangling.

“I have to say,” she says, “I’ve said this before and I didn’t really mean it all those other times. But when I say this is great… I actually mean it.”

“Really?”

“Well?” Lilith shrugs her shoulders, “it’s better than anything else you’ve done. It’s fresh, you’re not rehashing any of the old plot points that’ve come and gone. There’s a strong point of view here… Really appreciated you using Sam’s blood as lube -”

“I knew you would.”

“And that part where Cas walked in on you fingering Dean,” she continues, slapping the papers, “I cackled! Forcing him to stay until you finished and then making Dean kill him was brilliant.”

Chuck blushes under the praise, waving her off. “It just grew organically from where the story was going.”

“And then some…” Lilith lies his work flat on her lap and stares at him. “Now the only question I have is… will this ending actually happen ?”

“Oh… I think we’re winding closer to the end than anyone realizes…” Chuck turns the laptop around and shows Lilith the news article he found celebrating a local celebrity named Leo Webb. “And to thank you for the inspiration… I have another job for you.”

Lilith sinks to her seat. “I’m interested.”

Chuck explains the scene he has waiting, the unfinished threads he will quilt together later on. The more he talks about it the better the finished product becomes in his mind. An excitement that hadn’t existed inside for a long time squeezes his heart. He looks forward to leaving Becky’s house and getting his hands dirty. A joy he thought only came from creating worlds resurfacing in the opening act of destroying one.

Writing about Dean and Sam for so long made him forget who the real star of their story was. And it’s high time he reminds them.

----------------------------------------------------

Sam shuffles into the kitchen, rewinding through the horrible dream he experienced. One of the worst since he shot Chuck with the Equalizer. Thinking about it sends shivers racing up and down his spine like it’s NASCAR. The cars on the makeshift track speed faster when he finds Dean stuffing cereal into his face.

“Morning Sam,” he says, waving with his spoon, “Wanna pull up a seat?”

He doesn’t answer. Sam books it towards the coffee pot and debates pouring the drink over his eyes. Instead he grabs a mug from the cabinet above and fills it. Quickly, uncaring to how a few drops splash onto the counter. The faster he makes his coffee the sooner he can hide in his room until he wipes his memory of the horrible nightmare.

Dean won’t let him. When Sam turns to leave, he’s blocking his escape with a stern frown. “Sam?”

“...Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

Sam shuffles his feet, unable to meet Dean’s questioning stare. His brother asks again. “I can’t, Dean.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because if I say it, out loud it’s…” Sam sighs, “it’s real.”

Dean nods, leaning against the island. “Another vision?”

“Yeah…”

“How bad was it?”

“So bad.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Dean asks, “Y’know… maybe if you let me know I can -”

“No.”

“No?”

Sam shakes his head. “No. Trust me Dean, this… you don’t want to know…

[recentanimenews]

A Barrage of Buffy

Because I am a great big geek, one of my personal goals is to read all of the novels inspired by Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is the second in a series of posts collecting relatively short reviews of these books. All of the following are set during the show’s third season.

Obsidian Fate by Diana G. Gallagher In 1520, a Spaniard conveying stolen Aztec treasure to a secret hiding place was killed by a mudslide while holding a particular obsidian mirror. Now, his remains have been found in an archaeological dig in Sunnydale. It turns out that the mirror contains the essence of the Aztec god of night, Tezcatlipoca, who quickly makes a graduate student working on the dig his High Priestess and adopts a jaguar form to prowl around and do some chomps. The gang must prevent his brainwashed followers from offering enough human sacrifices to empower Tezcatlipoca to banish the sun forever.

There were definitely things I liked about Obsidian Fate. I liked that Buffy is worrying about her friends leaving for distant universities and colleges and trying to figure out what she herself is going to do. I liked that Angel has begun to think about moving away to let Buffy live her life. I liked that Giles is still grieving Jenny. A lot of the characterization and dialogue was good—especially Oz, which is pretty difficult to do. Surprisingly, Kendra and Faith both get a mention, though the latter is nowhere to be seen (and this is all set before she goes bad). No Wesley at all. It’s also really neat that the Mayor and Mr. Trick are facilitating Tezcatlipoca’s rise!

But oh man, so many descriptions of temples and stones and boulders and pillars. It’s very tedious. Also, one of their fellow students has become temporary host to part of Tezcatlipoca’s essence and plans to sexually assault Willow prior to sacrificing her. Nobody, besides Oz, seems to be quite as pissed off about this as they should be. Lastly, a subplot about how one of Buffy’s prophetic dreams showed Angel’s demise offers zero suspense. Still, their reunion on the final page does produce a genuinely cute moment.

Is this one worth a read? Eh, it could be worse.

Power of Persuasion by Elizabeth Massie This was a bit of a clunker, I’m afraid. The awkward teen daughter of a culinarily disinclined restaurant owner grows fed up with catering to her incompetent father’s whims and, by chanting supplications whilst surrounded by random items from the restaurant’s pantry, somehow successfully summons a Greek goddess and her two muse daughters to help her change things. They proceed to compel a lot of female students (including Willow) to join their “womyn power” crusade, which mostly involves campaigning for girls to have the right to try out for the vacancies on boys’ teams that arise when male athletes keep turning up dead.

Many of these Buffy media tie-in novels have similarly mediocre plots, but are usually made more tolerable by the author having the ability to capture how characters speak and interact. Not so much here, unfortunately. I appreciated that with Willow, Giles, and Xander falling under the sway of the villains and Angel out of town, Buffy had to rely on Cordelia and Oz to help her. But, while Cordelia’s scenes were fine, much of Oz’s dialogue and demeanor seemed wrong to me. Also, some weird abilities are ascribed to vampires, like one scene where a struggling vamp leaves scorch marks where her heels have dug into the earth.

I suppose the best praise I can muster is, “It’s pretty lame, but at least it’s short.”

Prime Evil by Diana G. Gallagher Seldom have I read a book so starkly divided between enjoyable parts and excruciating parts!

Set after “Doppelgangland,” the plot of Prime Evil involves a witch attuned to “primal magick” who was first born 19,000 years ago and who keeps being reincarnated and gathering sacrificial followers in an attempt to access “the source.” Her current identity is Crystal Gordon, a new history teacher at Sunnydale High, and her latest crop of doomed devotees is composed entirely of students. Obviously, it’s the Scooby Gang’s job to stop her.

First, the good. Most of the scenes with the main characters are fun, with dialogue that I could easily hear in the actors’ voices. Anya and Joyce have significant roles, and there was notable awkwardness between the latter and Giles. Although this was presumably the result of their dalliance in “Band Candy,” I liked that the explanation wasn’t explicitly stated. I thought it was interesting that Crystal tempts Willow to join her disciples by promising a cure for Oz, and I did have to snicker at a scene in which Angel, for the sake of expedience in getting to safety, has to sling Xander over his shoulder.

The bad, however, cannot be denied. There are many tedious flashbacks to Crystal’s past incarnations and these quickly became literally groan-inducing. In addition, the theoretically climactic magical battle at the end is full of prose like “The great source-river of wild magick coursed in violent abandon through the orbits of comets so ancient and distant they had never been warmed by the sun” and succeeded only in making me profoundly sleepy.

In summation… zzz.

Resurrecting Ravana by Ray Garton A rash of cattle mutilations has the Scooby Gang suspecting hellhound activity, but when several people turn up eaten, after each has spontaneously killed their dearest friend, it’s clear something else is up. There’s more of a mystery here than these books generally offer, with a plot that features Hindu gods, an elderly collector of magical artifacts, his lonely granddaughter, and a certain statue that can resurrect a deity who will reward one richly for this service (and whose minions will kill everyone else).

Along the way, a new guidance counselor of Indian descent is introduced (replacing the guy who got killed in “Beauty and the Beasts”). At first, I thought this was going to be another one of those “Willow falls under the sway of a new female staff/faculty member who is secretly evil” storylines, but, refreshingly, that did not turn out to be the case. Willow just talks to her about problems with her relationship with Buffy, which come to a head in a couple of full-on brawls in the library. It takes a really long time for anyone to put together that their situation parallels the murders/devourings happening elsewhere in town, but it does lead to a nice final moment for the book.

Characterization is spotty. Pretty much each character has a moment that feels especially right as well as one that feels especially wrong. Xander and Cordelia’s bickering is even nastier than usual, and it’s never outright said that they’re being affected by the same creatures who manipulated Buffy and Willow. That said, I did enjoy all of Buffy’s interactions with her mother, particularly a late-night trip to Denny’s. All in all, Resurrecting Ravana wasn’t bad!

Return to Chaos by Craig Shaw Gardner Return to Chaos is a bit different from most of the other Buffy tie-in books I’ve read. Instead of a new big villain coming to town, the plot is mostly about some new allies coming to town. A quartet of Druids, specifically, consisting of an older guy named George and his three nephews, one of whom develops feelings for Buffy. George wants to enlists the Slayer’s help in performing a spell on the Hellmouth that will supposedly prevent bad things from crossing over, but he’s really vague about his plans, and it soon becomes evident that he isn’t in his right mind. The nephews genuinely are allies, though, which is kind of refreshing.

This book was written in 1998, and it seems that the author was not privy to much that was going to happen in season three. A couple of vague references are made to Angel coming back, and about Buffy trying to move on romantically, but Xander and Cordelia are still very much together as a couple. That would put this somewhere between “Beauty and the Beasts” (episode four) and “Lover’s Walk” (episode eight), except that it is very clearly spring and we know that “Amends” (episode ten) is Christmas. Oopsies. There are a couple of other small errors, too, concerning Buffy’s eye color and Giles’ glasses.

This is another book in which there’s more of Oz than I’d been expecting. Some of his scenes and thoughts are okay, and I appreciated that the author wrote a teensy bit about Oz’s family, but at other times he just seems far too verbose. (This, combined with the errors mentioned above, makes me wonder just how familiar the author was with these characters.) Cordelia has a subplot of her own, as well, in which she falls under the thrall of a former rival turned vampire. The Druids recognize that the vampire is using a “mastery” spell, which is likened to the power Drusilla exhibited when she was able to kill Kendra so easily. I thought that was kind of neat.

In the end, despite some flaws, it turned out to be pretty decent.

Revenant by Mel Odom In 1853, 35 Chinese laborers were killed in a mine cave-in on a site owned by some of Sunnydale’s forefathers. The incident was covered up and families were unable to provide their loved ones with a proper burial. Now, the unquiet spirits of those men want vengeance on the owners’ descendants and have managed to communicate with the troubled brother of one of Willow’s friends, who enlists her help. Honestly, this plot doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but there’s a rich importer involved (who’s receiving help from the mayor) and chanting and statues and dragons and warehouses what go boom and demons that turn into goop.

Sometimes, Odom has a bit of trouble with characterization—Oz’s dialogue often doesn’t feel quite right, and sometimes Buffy comes off as vapid, like an early scene where she’s worried about her hair while Willow is running for her life—but other scenes are spot-on. I particularly liked a moment where Giles is forced to hotwire a truck (“I was not always a good boy”) and the final scene wherein Xander attempts to parlay his latest romantic disappointment into Buffy’s half of a Twinkie they’re sharing. Odom also incorporates and elaborates on some of the issues characters are worrying about at this point in the show: Buffy ponders her future with Angel, Xander dreads being left behind after graduation, and Cordelia seeks to avoid trouble at home by helping with research. The action scenes are easy to envision, as well.

Unlike most other books set during this season, the brief Xander/Willow fling and its fallout are acknowledged. Like the others, neither Faith nor Wesley is mentioned, and the former’s absence is particularly glaring, given the evident difficulty of the big battle. Still, Revenant ended up being a pleasant surprise.

By: Michelle Smith

[addhunter]

Origin Stories

How do people come up with titles for their blog posts right away? I don’t even know what I’m going to write about yet. Maybe I’ll just stick one at the top later that captures the essence of this post but also leaves it a little vague and intriguing.

Oddly enough, that’s how most of my stories go, as well.

The whole concept of Transcend kind of started out as a joke, which should become obvious once you read the story. I kind of like to poke fun at typical tropes and cliche things that happen in the action hero genre. (I don’t take myself too seriously, so you shouldn’t either.)

So, let’s go back to the beginning, the summer of 2014.

Summer of 2014? 2015? I actually can’t remember, if I’m honest. Idk, the date’s on the Transcend comic blog somewhere. It was August, that’s all I know.

One of my best friends had just left for basic training for the Navy. She couldn’t have her phone, so we were stuck to writing letters. (No problem for me, the big goober who loves writing and physically can’t shut up.) I was actually pretty decent at writing coherent letters, since I was a slow enough hand-writer that it took a lot of focus to finish a sentence before I could start another one. I’m sure she got some great letters from me.

Anyways, when I ran out of things to talk about in that letter, I started writing little stories. They usually involved the two of us, as either spies or vampires or dragon riders (and even one where we were werewolves and One Direction was there--yeah. Like I said, imaginative.) and were only really a page or two long handwritten. Little one-shots about us doing crazy things, no big deal.

I didn’t feel like continuing the one I had previously written, but I couldn’t come up with anything else to write about, either. A different friend suggested “Hey, give us some super powers” and I was like “Sure okay” and so I did. I took the three of us, gave us some poorly developed powers, and threw us into a story where we jumped into a burning building to save some kid. For the Navy friend, I gave her electricity, my other friend got either super strength or invisibility (can’t remember) and I had flight. It was super short, probably only around 800 words or so. But I brought the letter home from work that day (I had written it there. It was a slow day.) and my friend read it while I got ready to hang out. 

“Holy shit, this is actually super good??”

(If you read that in a surprised voice, you’d be right on track. She was surprised it was good, I was surprised, everyone was surprised, JK Rowling was there,)

So, with her bugging me a bit, I wrote some more about us, and she loved it. The Navy friend loved it. I sent the basic premise of the story to my sister and she loved it.

I was onto something, here.

Realizing that those powers wouldn’t actually do much good as far as fighting actual crime went, I changed the powers. And then I changed our personalities. And then I changed the characters completely, gave them some friends, gave them a plot, and gave them a whole town. I was house-sitting that weekend, so I sat down and just wrote and wrote and wrote. I was crazy inspired and running on like three cups of coffee around 11 at night. Three hours later, I sat back and realized I had created basically a whole universe. It had it’s own rules for magic, how powers worked, it had in depth characters and fleshed out story lines that stretched back three generations sometimes, and it even had a Creation Myth. 

Trying to draw some lines between everything I had written down, I found I had a solid five plot arcs I could separate from the rest. At first, I tried to make like, a story game of some sort, thinking once I had learned how to code, I could make a video game. (I can post that mess some other time.)

I only had two jobs at that point, and even then I had zero time for that.

So, I was like, “Hey, Addie, you know what genre is great for superheroes?”

“TV shows?”

“Well, that, too.” (I’ll get into that some other time.) “But what’s even better is comics.”

The skies opened up, angels were singing, Stan Lee was there,

So I started a comic.

It started out well enough. I had some character designs, changed them up a bit the more I drew them, got some variety in how these characters looked. I’m pretty okay at art. You can’t tell by what all I uploaded on that comic blog, but the characters looked good! I wanted to hand draw it all, but I realized it would be a lot more effort to try and scan the pages in and I wouldn’t get the detail I wanted, anyways. I realized I had to draw digitally, and that’s where it all went to shit.

For some reason, my brain just cannot make the switch to digital art. I just am not good at it, at all. Maybe it was because I had spent the last 19 years drawing everything on paper and cardboard, maybe it was because sometimes I still struggle to figure out how toasters work, idk. So, we got the mediocre characters you see on there today. Every once in a while, something would look super cool, but it wasn’t very often. Not only that, but it was taking me forever to get anything done. (By this point, I had three jobs, and that doesn’t leave a whole lot of downtime for drawing comics in a medium you’re not used to.) I spent a whole year and a half trying to do it this way before I finally admitted to myself it just wasn’t working. I needed to so something else that I could do efficiently enough for at least my own sake.

“Hey Addie,” My brain chimed in again, “You know what you can do real quick and what you practically have done already?”

“Plan out a convincing TV promo and proposal and outlines for six seasons of Transcend?” (I told you, I’m really thinking about this. MTV, if you’re out there, hit me up.)

“Well, that, too. But you can write. And you can write well, from what your English teachers in high school told you. You practically have the whole story scripted out, why not just turn it into a novel?”

Bells were ringing, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, JK Rowling was back,

I set out to write a novel.

Surprising to me and no one else, I finished it in about three weeks. (Like I said before, I pretty much had the whole thing scripted out already, I just had to put some descriptions and make it sound more like a book.) I ran through and edited it a couple times, and sent it to a few friends to read and see what they thought.

That’s where I am now. I’m currently looking up stuff for how to find an editor (ugh) and self-publishing guidelines and tips (double ugh) and trying to somehow make a cover that I don’t instantly hate (triple ugh). I’m waiting for feedback and making myself ignore it for a whole week before I go and read through it for a third time.

That’s how Transcend came to be. I have seven novels (plus a little intermediary story and a couple spin offs) outlined, and the second story has the first chapter written. I feel a lot better about this than I did before, a lot more confident in myself. I’ll still keep the comic going, as it’s kind of a nice stress reliever to just sit and color while I space out with writer’s block, but my focus is now going to be on writing it all. I feel like I can put more detail into the characters and flesh them out a little better, and I’m really excited about where this can go.

I’m just really, really, really excited.

Also I hope people like my book.