#least of all by their own fans/countrymen

[laminesyamal]

spain to win the euros but none of the black english boys to make a mistake

[threepandas]

Your Biggest Fan: Part 3

When he first showed up, people scoffed. He wasn't the first to try and claim such a grand name, nor would he be the last. They mocked him. Made unknowing targets of themselves. Didn't realize just how SERIOUS the situation WAS.

They thought he was a joke.

Because, after all, how could ANYTHING related to the Quirkless be a threat? How could ANYTHING related to those they'd failed, dismissed, and abused ever come back to haunt them? What vengeance and anger could possibly fester there? Turning into something ugly. Something powerful and dangerous.

The Red Shoed Onryō was no joke.

He was every ugly buried sin crawled into the light. Vengeance where no justice would ever be found. The cruelty that returns cruelty's actions. The monster the that hunts and haunts the living.

And of course, like everything related to the Quirkless, the news buried him. Covered their eyes and ears, hoping he'd go away. Letting him run free.

Hero after hero, refusing to take the case. Because he's "not a REAL threat". As though his influence wasn't spreading. As though his power wasn't GROWING. Willfully BLIND! At every turn, it baffled and infuriated you. Did Onyrō have to STAB them first, for them to SEE?!

Worst of all? He was either kidnapping or KILLING Quirkless kids. The most vulnerable youth in this entire god forsaken, willfully blind, country! There were days when you loved your country. There WERE. It's one of the reasons you became a Hero! But some days? You wanted to BEAT THE BIGOT out of your countrymen.

Especially when, once again, you were looking down at... at tiny little red shoes.

God.

God, they were just a KID.

A little kid. Face to solemn. Eyes too old for such a young body. Parents who can't be bothered to even remember the last time they SAW their son. He was SIX. It burns you. Every child, dead or missing on this God forsaken case. It BURNS. Every SINGLE one of their neighbors saw the crimes here and did nothing. The teachers. Nothing. Their own parents! Nothing!

Another child failed.

Another set of tiny shoes collected. Because these BASTARDS don't deserve to keep them. And a cry in the nearest park.

Damn this so called Onryō. DAMN HIM! They were just kids! He... oh god, he was just a kid...

There's an awkward shuffling near your bench. Ah. Probably a kid. Smile, Gaurdian. You gotta remember to smile! They're kids. They don't understand, SHOULDN'T understand, that sometimes Heros lose...

C'mon. Be brave. Smile.

You raise your head. And... oh. Not a kid. They're all still playing, off on the distant play structures. It's the anxious, green, quirkless man. The one who was real scuffed up. He looks better. Nervous though.

"A..Are YOU okay?" He manages to choke out, before you can say anything.

You huff a laugh. Well, isn't THAT a turn of events? Guess he remembers you. Good to know you're making an impact, at least. And... maybe it's something about how he clearly so uncomfortable, yet braving through it to offer comfort. Maybe it's because he's the first person to ASK in... God, months? But you answer honestly.

No. No you're not.

You keep it vague, of course. Case file confidentiality and all that. But... the victims. Oh god, the victims. Quirkless kids. As though life wasn't shit for them ENOUGH. It makes you want to BREAK things. People.

He listens as you rage. Curse and weep. Mourn.

The list of names Onryō IS going to answer for. Even if you have to hunt him down alone. Drag him back by yourself. Because it's not ABOUT the fucking hair care commercials! It's about saving lives. And what's the damn POINT of it all, if it's not all in service of that?

...Honestly? Green guy is a good listener. Seems to hang off your every word. Really engaged. It's nice, after so long being dismissed and ignored at ever turn. So much so... that you do something you probably shouldn't. It's TECHNICALLY crossing a couple lines, professionally. And you WERE taught better.

But....

Well.......

Fuck it. You're kinda lonely, you know? Yeah, he's a fan. You "saved" him with some band-aids. But it's not like you REALLY saved him! That would be crossing a boundary, right? Right. This is... probably? Fine? Maybe you could get a friend out of it.

Hey. Green. Gimme your phone real quick.

You input your number. Send yourself his. There. Now you guys can chat. Don't go crazy okay? He promises. Looks super excited to have a friend. And... yeah. Yeah! You have a good feeling about this. Greenie's name is apparently "Izuku". And what you both need?

Is a friend.

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group A, Round 5

Propaganda under the cut

GLaDOS

I mean, obviously.

Yotsuyu goe Brutus

She was sold to a brothel by her shitty aunt and rose through the ranks to become a highly sought-after courtesan, eventually meeting up with one of the big bads who was impressed by her hatred for her home country of Doma. A lot of murder later and she got put in charge of Doma, exacted her revenge by basically torturing the citizens, and absolutely getting off on it.

propaganda by @mosthuggableffxiv:

Yotsuyu goe Brutus was treated like shit her entire life and girlbossed as hard as she could as revenge (more detail below). Her response to an extremely shitty childhood and early life was to become a spy for the Garlean Empire, which was occupying her home country, Doma, and apparently be good enough at that that she ended up as basically in charge of the country (as the dude from the empire who was actually in charge could not give less of a shit about governing--sorry Zenos fans, but it's true). Having harbored a lifelong hatred for her countrymen, she took advantage of her position to make them suffer--the player first sees her in a scene where she's trying to force a man to prove his loyalty to the Empire by shooting his own parents, for example. Later, when the player character has allied with the Doman resistance and confronts Yotsuyu in a decisive battle, she begins to dump her traumatic backstory… in order to delay her death long enough that she can bring a building down on the player character and other people important to the resistance, including the rightful heir to the Doman throne. She seemingly dies when the building collapses, but later comes back with amnesia, having completely forgotten her past and all the atrocities she committed. A significant amount of time is spent trying to figure out if this is a trick, because she would do that, but it turns out that's actually what happened… at least until her brother shows up and forces her to remember her past by re-introducing her to her shitty abusive parents. Newly herself, but now feeling guilty for the war crimes, she kills her shitty abusive parents and summons a primal (a godlike being) inside herself to either re-take Doma or die. The latter ends up happening, perhaps not surprising given the number of primals that the player character has personally slain, but saves the last of her strength to murder Asahi and thus dies with her need for revenge fully sated.

[trustrebel]

Joe cocker lend me your ears

JOE COCKER LEND ME YOUR EARS SERIES

JOE COCKER LEND ME YOUR EARS TV

Note: When you embed the widget in your site, it will match your site's styles (CSS). John - Like A Hurricane of the Moment Album Lyrics1.Joe Cocker With A Little Help From My Friends2.Lynyrd Skynyrd Sweet Home AlabamaMr. (Jeremy Steig, Eddie Gómez and Joe Chambers album) Lend Me Your Ears is an album by flautist Jeremy Steig, bassist Eddie Gómez and drummer/percussionist Joe Chambers recorded in West Germany in 1978 and released on the German CMP label. What do you see when you turn out the light? Lend Me Your Ears (Jeremy Steig, Eddie Gómez and Joe Chambers album) Lend Me Your Ears. Yes, I'm certain that it happens all the time Would you believe in a love at first sight? No, I get by with a little help from my friendsĭo you need anybody? I need somebody to loveĬould it be anybody? I want somebody to love A What would you do if I sang out of tune, Would you stand up and walk out on me Lend me your ears and Ill sing you a song And Ill try not to sing out of. (Are you sad because you're on your own?) Gonna try with a little help from my friends I get high with a little help from my friends Joe Cocker - With a little help from my Friends 1968Original by The BeatlesLyrics:What would you do if I sang out of tuneWould you stand up and walk out on m. 'Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your.

JOE COCKER LEND ME YOUR EARS SERIES

Lend Me Your Ears (video series), a 2014 video series by John Cantlie. Lend Me Your Ears (book), a 2003 book by Boris Johnson. Lend Me Your Ears (Ray Stevens album), 1990. What would you think if I sang out of tune, Would you stand up and walk out on me Lend me your ears and Ill. Lend Me Your Ears may refer to: Lend Me Your Ears (Jeremy Steig, Eddie Gómez and Joe Chambers album), 1978. Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends Joe Cocker - A Little Help From My Friends. Told in the first person, this new book Lend Me Your Ears is an oral history of Jethro Tull, mixing hundreds of fan anecdotes with memories from the band, their collaborators, other musicians and celebrity admirers garnered from over 50 years of recording and.

JOE COCKER LEND ME YOUR EARS TV

It is a fantastic version and perhaps the best introduction song to a TV show ever: The great Wonder Years.Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song out on me E Bm Lend me your ears and Ill sing you a song E A And Ill try not to sing out of key Chorus G D A Oh, I get by with a little help from my. Lend Me Your Ears official new book with a foreword written by Ian Anderson. He is saying that he needs help from his friends because that is part of the human condition. Whereas the The Beatles version feels like a collective effort, Cocker’s sounds lonelier. me Mi Sim Lend me your ears and Ill sing you a song Mi La And Ill try not to sing out of key Sol Re La Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends. Joe Cocker’s cover of the song because it borderline surpasses the original. Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song I will try not to sing out of key Oh, baby I get by (Ah, with a little help from my friends) All I need is my buddies (Ah, with a little help from my. The background sings the questions, “Would you believe in a love in first sight?” And Ringo answers, “Yes, I’m certain that it happens all the time.” That is a nice structure for the bridge that continues into the chorus…”Do you need anybody?” “I just need someone to love”… The song sounds simple due to the lack of variety in Ringos voice, but the song is actually very well written. The song’s structure is a serious of questions and answers that make for a unique song and experience. Five hundred years before MeToo, Shakespeare wrote his darkest comedy, a story of religion, sexual coercion, and the nature of justice. They let Ringo sing lead on it and he performs admirably…or at least it works well for this song. “With A Little Help From My Friends” is a Joe Cocker classic written by the Beatles.

[butwhatifidothis]

I have to confess that watching edelstans try to defend that "must you continue to renconquer and kill in retaliation quote" gives me a little bit of schadenfreude.

My favorite latest interpretation is that what Edelgard really meant is that she's just desperately begging Dimitri to stop fighting a battle he knows he can't win and sacrificing the lives of his countrymen because she regrets the war so much. Which like, even if you ignore the glaring question of "And whose hands are they being sacrificed by?" are just. Wow. Incredibly inspiring and not at all hypocritical words from Edelgard von "I will stop at nothing to achieve my goals no matter what but if you dare to do the same I will bothsides the hell out of this to add insult to injury"

They try to defend that line because it's just. Such a simple, direct showcasing of just how childish Edelgard can be when it comes down to it and be completely unaware of it.

She's willing to lie to, starve, and murder her own citizens for her own gain, as well as doing nearly the same to just about everyone she meets. She's forcefully trying to colonize Faerghus back under Adrestian control after doing the same to Leicester - and after Faerghus had already rightfully won independence from Adrestia centuries ago. She's driving away the religious people of the Empire.

But when someone tells her to her face that that's what she's doing? Senseless murder? Ruthless conquering? She deflects. Very poorly, at that. It's a complete and utter lack of holding herself accountable, for all that she says that her path is bloody and can lead to madness and it's so bleak - but as soon as someone else actually, y'know, genuinely tells her that she's committing countless acts of death and carnage across the land, well. Suddenly her path isn't that bloody - not as much as Dimitri would be if he fought against her anyway! She's willing to sacrifice the lives of her people for her higher cause... but don't call her out on that tho! Don't try to actually make her look bad tho! Because obviously, if Dimitri would just submit to her, there'd be no bloodshed at all! Her path wouldn't be so gosh darn bloody if every single person in Fodlan bowed to what she wants.

Like, remember her words to Rhea, when she offers her a "chance to surrender" (after saying she wants to OBLITERATE HER)? She says that unlike Rhea, she has, quote, "no desire to unleash wicked atrocities upon this world!" See, Edelgard didn't do anything wrong at all - it's all Rhea. Remire? Flayn? The chapel? Jeralt? Demonic Beasts? Nah, those weren't that bad - not atrocities!

For all that certain fans want to infantilize Edelgard by making her think of herself as a child, the truth is that she unintentionally has childish mindsets. Her daddy told her that Adrestia used to rule over all of Fodlan, so he must be right and literally everyone else must be wrong. Dimitri hit her back after she slapped him so he's in the wrong, he's the bully. If everyone just listened to her and never fought her ever even when she's forcefully and violently trying to conquer them, no one would get hurt!!

She has these grand plans, she thinks she's the only adult in the room when she makes her "hard choices," she thinks she's got the whole play scripted out, when the fact of the matter is she is by far the main character who has thought about things the least. She doesn't stop to think about why people stand against her - they're just wrong, nothing else. She doesn't stop and think about how much suffering she's causing - since, of course, it'll totally magically work out in the end no matter how fucked up her actions become. She never stops and really looks into what she thinks she knows and makes sure it's actually correct - she knows she's right, and so she never has to confirm it, because she's right. She never stops and genuinely thinks about what she's going to do with Fodlan if she wins, as shown by her ending being the most vague of the three lords (Dimitri makes an entirely new government, Claude opens international trade routes, and Edelgard... just makes her new society! Who cares about details really amiright, she leaves her throne so her ending is a good thing!). Edelgard doesn't think, she simply does.

So yeah, when Dimitri puts that flaw right in the spotlight - makes Edelgard think about what she's doing and her immediate and only response is to make Dimitri into the bad guy without any introspection given to Dimitri's words - Edelstans can't handle it. They can't handle the fact that their precious revolutionary girlboss has exactly zero self-awareness. She's supposed to be the one to save Fodlan! How can she do that if she never thinks about anything? So they go along with her - "she's right, of course it's Dimitri that's the bad guy! After we've added additional meaning to her words that were never implied at all, she's totally completely right to violently conquer Dimitri's land - because Dimitri is fighting back! How can he really want peace if he's standing against Edelgard?"

Because Edelgard Right Everyone Else Wrong

[highladydawn]

ACOTAR Crew as ATLA Characters

Friends, romans, countrymen...The time is upon us to match ACOTAR characters with their Avatar the Last Airbender counterparts. This list will be equal parts detailed and chaotic. Also, this is purely for fun and you may not agree with all the matches! That’s okay! I’d love to hear your own takes in the comments. ✨

(Thanks to the pals this idea was born with. They make days working in a library feel less lonely ~ @gimme-mor @elains @xnightwolfx @symphonyofbleedingshadows​)

━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━

Feyre | Aang 🍃

Even though Feyre doesn’t have Aang’s comedic personality, she shares a lot of important traits with Aang. She’s the protagonist of the story who has to learn how to master a lot of power very quickly under the threat of war. As where Aang has to learn the four elements, Feyre has to learn to how wield the power of all the high lords. They also are both driven by their desire to “save the world” and put an end to the evil powers that seek world domination. Lastly, they’re both the heart of their found families. They both bring members that they’re related to and the people they find along the way! 

Rhysand | Katara 🌊

This one was tough, but stick with me! Rhysand is the one who provides Feyre with the most hope. He saves her from a situation where she felt trapped (like Katara saving Aang in the iceberg) and is very heavily involved in the ultimate plot to save the world. Like Katara, Rhysand is incredibly powerful at his special power and also loves his protagonist. Katara and Rhys are both characters that are good in a crisis. They think clearly, they manage to hold the family together, and are willing to make sacrifices to keep others safe. 

Cassian | Sokka 🗡️

This one speaks for itself! They both are hilarious, they both have great hair, they’re both ripped as adults. More specifically, they’re an important sibling who has a skillset that’s different than most of the other people in the group. Cassian is a powerful warrior and the General of the NC. Sokka is the group strategist who specializes in sword combat. They are also both extremely loyal characters who felt like they had to be a grown man too early. For fun, they’re both flirtatious and like to indulge in food. 

Azriel | Longshot 🏹

Hear me out! I know Longshot isn’t a main character, but these two have a lot of similarities. They’re both incredibly soft spoken, as if everything they say is meticulously planned out and meant to serve a purpose. They feel most comfortable about their found family and work to serve a spying purpose within that group. When Jet dies, Longshot refuses to leave his side and stays with him. Likewise, Azriel doesn’t leave Rhys’ side when shit hits the fan. Azriel would die for Rhys, whether the high lord wants it or not. Lastly, they’re both characters who know how to listen and say the right thing because of it.

Amren | Toph 🌏

What can I say? These two are small, tough ladies who are unconquerable forces of nature who help act as the “reality check” for their protagonist. Toph would rather die than sugarcoat things for Aang, and Amren is much the same with Feyre. They work well together, even if they butt heads sometimes, and ultimately their powers compliment each other really well. Both Amren and Toph have a certain finesse for intimidation that gets them what they want. 

Lucien | Zuko 🔥

These boys are Princes of Fire who both have a scar on their eye from incredibly traumatic experiences. Both of them begin their stories (at least when we meet them) aligned with the wrong team. They side with the people who they think will get them what they want. For Lucien, it’s a home to call his own. For Zuko, it’s his honor and...actually, he wants a home too! They both want families who accept them for who they are, without having to earn it (which is unfortunately what they end up doing). They both go through a “break up” with these attachments. Zuko decides to help Aang and Lucien makes the decision to leave the Spring Court. These decisions also help the protagonist, and ultimately, they both are characters that provide desperate support in moments where the heroes are losing. 

Elain | Yue 🌙

Now we don’t know a whooole lot about Elain right now, but I’m sticking to this one! Yue is a kind-hearted character, well-beloved by her people, and generally known for being selfless and more connected to beauty and the natural world. Elain is much like this, as attached to her “element” (flowers) as Yue is to her. They’re both in high demand by the men in their lives, but their priority is their family. Yue makes a drastic choice to save her people, just as Elain has the killing blow in the battle against Hybern. Overall, they’re just nice ladies that people underestimated, but really have a lot of power. Also they’re beautiful.

Nesta | Mai 🗡

Listen, Nesta and Mai are our girls that are generally not liked by the audience for being disagreeable, dark in aesthetic, and pessimistic. Both they are both incredibly loyal and protective over the people that are important to them. When someone they do care about is threatened, they unleash a power that is well-trained and sharp. Do not find yourself on the other end of their blades. As their stories are revealed, we discover that Nesta and Mai have been ignored by people they desperately wanted attention from (Nesta, her father and Mai, Azula). But ultimately, their hearts are so much softer than others expect and they are full of so much love.

Mor | Ty Lee 🌸

Mor and Ty Lee are the definitions of feminine badasses. The connection here probably isn’t as...close as the others, but I really like it. Mor and Ty Lee have both experienced gut-wrenching discrimination for being women, yet still possess an immense amount of skill and control that allows them to take down their enemies. Ty Lee seeks approval a bit more than Mor does, but they both support their friends and will follow them to the ends of the earth, even if it put them in uncomfortable situations (ie: Mor in the Hewn City). I also get strong queer vibes from Ty Lee, so I’m going to speculate that they’re both femme WLW. 🏳️‍🌈

Emerie & Gwyn | Suki 🤺

I didn’t want to put Emerie and Gwyn together because they are both women in their own right, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who would serve them the resepct they deserve. Suki is disciplined, a hard worker, and one of the most bad ass warriors in the whole show. She has endured the trauma of her home being attacked and burned and being captured against her will, which is something she shares in common with Gwyn. But she also has faced discrimination for being a woman in a “man’s” field, which is something that led to Emerie’s wing clipping. But all three receive training that teaches them that women are strong and that if they remain balanced and steadfast, they can conquer any enemy.

Helion | Iroh 🍵

Hang with me! This is more speculation, but I expect that Helion could be an incredibly good male role model in Lucien’s life. Provide him a new perspective and represent the “new home” once he cuts ties with the past that wronged him, just as Iroh did for Zuko. Helion and Iroh are stronger and more cunning than people expect because they have characteristics that distract people from their true power (ie: Helion is perceived as “sex obsessed” and Iroh is “fat and lazy”). Helion and Iroh also form love for a long time. They have endured the loss of someone they loved (Iroh’s son and Helion’s presumed mate), but that experience has impacted who they are during the story. 

The Lady of Autumn | Ursa 🌹

This is another one that speaks for itself. LoA and Ursa are moms who absolutely love their sons. They have faced domestic abuse and sacrificed much of who they are for the sake of their children. Yet this situation brings challenges for them that cause them to favor their son over their other children, which unintentionally causes suffering for the favored child (ie: Azula makes Zuko miserable in any way she can, Lucien is hated by his brothers). They both are queens of lands that are cut throat, fiery, and rooted in traditional ways. But they do find ways to break free (or at least, I really hope so for LoA) and reclaim their agency and self-worth. 

Koschei/King of Hybern/Beron | Fire Lord Ozai 🔥

These are just all the dudes who are obsessed with gaining a lot of power. Beron has a special connection because he literally rules a kingdom of Fire. Yet Hybern and Koschei are interested in seizing power over the world and do not care if they have to kill, hurt, steal, and cheat to do it. But all these bastards will/have gotten their asses handed to them by their “good” counterpart. So, rest in pieces, assholes. (Though someone in the chat did say that Beron and Ozai are both sexy older guys, so there’s a fun little connection).

Tamlin | Jet ⚔

Self-centered bastards with his good intentions in all the wrong places. They start out good guys—they experience a massive tragedy in their youth that traumatizes them and radicalizes them in all the wrong ways. Because of this, they engage in manipulation tactics to get those around them to not only remain loyal to them, but also participate in their twisted mission. Tamlin lords his friendship with Lucien over his emissary’s head, making it very difficult for Lucien to hold Tamlin accountable and subsequently leave. Likewise, Jet’s Freedom Fighters end up realizing just how far gone their leader is when he wants to sacrifice innocent lives. They both have also manipulated women, which, gross. And unfortunately for Tamlin and Jet, their quest for revenge and (their twisted) justice ends up in them losing their strength, their power, their leadership, and their sanity.  

Amarantha | Azula 🔥

Lads, these women are absolute psychopaths. They torture, they pretend they’re capable of actual empathy (spoiler alert: THEY’RE NOT), and their lust for power is what ultimately brings their demise. They both answer to a man with greater power than them who (quite honestly) abandons them when they no longer have “use.” The only difference is, you’re ecstatic when Amarantha dies, but Azula’s fall is really tragic in a lot of ways. 

Nyx | Momo ⭐

HAHAHA, just kidding. Any of Aang and Katara’s kids could be Nyx, depending on his personality when he grows up. 

The Suriel | Bumi 💪

These two are funky lil guys who offer the protagonists a new perspective that they desperately need. They pop up more than once to assist as the character progresses on their journey. And the Suriel, like Bumi, end up being more friendly and likable than you expect when you first look at them. The only difference is, you capture the Suriel with food and not an iron cage.

Appa | Bryaxis 🐃

You can blame Lacie for this one. Let’s hope the acotar team never hops on Bryaxis’ back and says “Yip Yip!” 

[mryddinwilt]

A Bridgerton Rant

Not that I needed encouragement to rant but @constantvigilante here we go... 

First lets talk background as I think it matters for how I experienced Bridgerton. I read extensively in the Regency Romance genre. Like at least 20 books a year if not more. I have read and not particularly enjoyed 2 1/2 Bridgerton novels. I am a huge Jane Austen fan. I am writing my own Regency romance series and have done a lot of research into the time period. I also adore historic dramas of any time period. 

I should be the target audience for this series. 

Except I’m not. 

Bridgerton is not a show for Regency aficionados, Janeites, or costume drama fans. It is a show specifically designed NOT to be a “regular” period drama. A show that from it’s costumes, to it’s characters, and story telling, is actively trying to break the mold. 

But I LIKE the mold! 

I desperately want more shows and series like the 1995 P&P or North and South or even Downton Abbey (which for all its soapiness is still a show grounded in a historical period). Instead I get Bridgerton. 

Bridgerton with it’s hyper-saturated colors, it’s ridiculous dialogue, it’s vague historic period, and general fantasy feeling. Bridgerton, which feels so far from the Regency period that it might as well be a spin-off of Reign. The worst thing is that since Bridgerton is successful it will encourage copycats and diminish the chance of having good period dramas in the future. I just googled “Best Period Dramas” and Bridgerton was top of the list. Ugh. 

To be fair this problem does not start with Bridgerton. It’s just part of a larger trend in the costume drama genre. I’m just grumpier about it because it’s Regency romance. This year gave us two Jane Austen adaptations in Sanditon and Emma. and both had elements of the issues that plague Bridgerton though neither at the same scale. 

So what did I not like? Buckle up buttercup here we go.

General Ahistorical-ness- The series tries to center itself in a specific time period, they even give us the year 1813, and then proceed to ignore the time period. No mentions of Napoleon, a guy that at the very least the Prince would care about since Bonaparte is killing all his countrymen while he dances with Daphne. We get Queen Charlotte but no Prince Regent (the guy the period is named for) or any of the other royals. No mention of the War of 1812 or the Peninsular War. No mention of anything that would ground it in a place or time. Compare this to something like Poldark or Outlander where the characters are actively engaged in the world they live in. Bridgerton doesn’t exist in the Regency world, it just put on the trappings of it.

Ungrounded/Fantasy (except when it’s not)- I do think that the ungrounded nature of the story is on purpose.  We are meant to be swept away into this fantasy land of pretty dresses, hot dukes, pop-music ballrooms, and consequence free sex (for the guys at least) Even the weather gives us a vague “summer” feeling (never mind that the London season took place in the Winter and into Spring and that by summer everyone was out of the capital because it was hot and stinky). I have argued before that the literary Regency romance genere is way more fantasy than reality and this aspect is in the books. So I guess I shouldn’t knock it for this. EXCEPT they had to go and add the pregnant debutante subplot.

The books don’t have a subplot about a girl needing to marry fast because she is pregnant because lbh it’s too real for a light romance read with a fake dating plot. By adding it the show just highlights the bizarre fantasy of the Bridgerton world. Maria (is that her name?) is literally shown the “poor people” to encourage her to get married fast. If we are going to be in fantasy lets live in the fantasy. Like the cartoonish element and the half-hearted commitment to a time period it creates a dissonance for me.

Costumes- A ton of work and effort was put into the costumes and they are in many way beautiful. But they are also just pure aesthetic. Bright colors (very bright), overblown trim, not a bonnet in sight (I cannot say how much this annoys me). This was not a case of not knowing the period but a stylistic choice. They kept a Regency silhouette but actively used colors, fabrics, and the like that had not even been invented by 1813. Contrast this with Emma. where they gave us a very bright aesthetic while also being highly accurate to the time period (like ridiculously accurate costumes). 

Dances and music- Literally it’s Reign all over again. From the type of random couple dancing to the use of pop music covers by a string quartet. Bonus we get an outdoor ball at Vauxhall... guess the actual building with the ballroom was full.. smh. The choices are deliberate. They don’t want it to feel like a Regency ball room. Too which I ask “Then what is the point of the historical setting?” 

Proprieties- They ignore all the rules of the time. Except when they need them to move the plot forward. For example Simon and Daph have to marry because the scandal of them being caught in the garden. But they were alone in several other scenes in circumstances that, at the time, would have caused the same scandal. There are lots of other instances but I imagine they are the kinds of little things that only someone obsessed with the genre notices. Also no bonnets or hats of any kind...shocking!  Cartoonish- I found the whole thing to be a caricature of the time. The costumes, over saturated colors, and bad CGI of buildings contributed to this. But there were also scenes like “ the gentleman callers” that showed massive rooms just filled with guys holding presents as a means to telegraph “this girl is popular”. Because subtlety is dead in this version of a “period drama”. This could have worked if they were going for an over the top “Importance of Being Earnest” (with Firth and Everett) vibe. But the acting and script were played straight so it was dissonant. I felt like they wanted me to really believe that this was how things worked back then.   All Regency girls are prudes- I know this is an artifact from the original novels but I feel the show plays it up by having Eloise be like “but how is a baby made” and making it a plot point that girls are left in the dark. Eloise’s mother had her babies at home and she would likely have seen farm animals. Plus girls then would be told exactly how and why to guard their virtue and would have experienced other women being pregnant. 

Look I get that most people think that sex education was minimal back then but the truth is that they had erotic novels, drawings, sex manuals, and the upper class were more sexually liberated than is generally thought. Anthony sleeping with an opera singer is accurate. But it would be equally accurate for Lady Bridgerton to have a guy she met up with on the regular just for sex. The upper class weren’t prudes. Like there was a trend for awhile where the women would wear white gowns and get them damp so they were practically translucent. They did this at dinner parties. The Georgians (the Regency occurs at the end of the Georgian period) were not the Victorians. 

Okay that’s probably enough. I only got halfway through episode 4 so there are likely other things I could quibble with (and I am well aware that some of this is quibbling). I am glad that other people like the show. I’m happy they are happy. But I really hope that the next Regency related media I see is not more of the same. So help me if the new Persuasion starts being marketed as “edgy” or a “reimagining” I just might cry. 

[lailyn]

The Great Anzac Bake-Off

"Is that all you're having?" Stephen frowned. "It doesn't look very filling."

"It is a biscuit made of oats and baked in heavy syrup and butter. I assure you, it is more filling than your three-egg quinoa omelette," Loki mumbled as he nibbled on his sweet treat at an agonisingly slow pace. "It was certainly enough to fill the bellies of tens and thousands of soldiers back in the first World War. How kind of Darryl to remind me."

Stephen went quiet.

"I worry about you sometimes," he confessed.

"Why in the Nine would you?"

“Worry is too strong a word…” Stephen muttered. “Wonder, maybe.” 

He watched Loki listlessly stir the cold milk with the cookie clockwise, then, anticlockwise several times. 

"I wonder where you are," Stephen finally mumbled to himself.

"I had no idea your eyesight was so bad," Loki sniffed. "I am right here." 

"No, I mean...temporally speaking," Stephen said. "Your headspace doesn't sound like it's in the 21st century right now."

"Maybe it isn't."

Loki's sullen mood was a far cry from the ray of sunshine that had waltzed in through the Sanctum's front door that morning. Stephen wondered if he had upset Loki when he refused to partake in the gift of baked goods Loki had brought with him from New Asgard.

"It was my turn to cook for our breakfast date this week," Stephen reminded.

Loki shrugged and said nothing. 

At the sight of Loki's crestfallen face, Stephen's resolve faltered. He was not a fan of sweets but... 

"I'll have some later, okay?" Stephen placated. "They look sweet but I have braved far worse."

"Are we talking about the famine soup again?" Loki asked, stone-faced. "I was only paying tribute to my dear friend Alexis.” 

At the look of confusion on Stephen’s face, he queried incredulously, “Alexis Soyer? You do not know of him?”

“Should I?” Stephen returned coolly. 

“He was the unsung hero of the hungry and the poor. His soup kitchen fed thousands of starving Irish for free during the Great Irish Famine."

The facade cracked, and an embarrassed flush coloured Stephen’s cheeks. 

"No, I get it. I just…" he searched for the right words to say but he only ended up hesitating for far too long. "I guess I'm trying to figure out where I fit in."

"You need to stop being jealous of every dead friend I once had, Stephen."

Stephen had to center himself and think. Loki's thought process was difficult enough to follow on a normal day. A nostalgic Loki's was next to impossible, but Loki only ever said Stephen's name in that tone whenever he felt personally affronted.

"That is not what I meant at all," Stephen said apologetically 

Loki crossed his arms over his chest. "Then what did you mean?" 

"There are times when I'm talking to you and it feels like I'm talking to a different you. A you from another time." 

"Is that concerning?" Loki wondered aloud. The minimal shrug he gave a split-second later belied the deep frown on his face. "For you, maybe."

Stephen had learnt from experience that the quickest, most effective (if not the least painful) method to break down Loki’s walls was by appealing to his inherent sentimentality...and the way to do it was by being very honest.

Stephen mustered the courage to raise his head and look Loki right in the eye. “Yes, it is very concerning. I don’t want to lose you, Loki.”

The last of the cookie slipped from between Loki’s fingers and plopped into the milk. 

“...That’s utterly ridiculous,” Loki said unconvincingly after a while. He fumbled with a teaspoon to dig the biscuit out but the harder he tried, the more it dissolved in the milk.

He gave up and threw the spoon across the table, inadvertently splashing droplets of milk everywhere and splattering Stephen’s arm in the process. 

Without thinking, Loki reached out and irately wiped the back of Stephen’s hand with the sleeve of his tunic. “Why would you say such things?” 

Stephen’s unhappy countenance was damning in its silence. 

“Say something,” Loki forced through crumbling layers of pride and gritted teeth. 

Stephen’s gaze shifted, looking anywhere but the eyes peering anxiously at him.

“I wonder of the stories you would tell when I’m gone. I wonder if you would think of me at all.”

Loki heaved a longanimous sigh.

“Oh, Doctor." He gave the back of the now-clean hand an awkward pat. "It is only a biscuit.”

"Is it?" Stephen asked sadly. 

Loki studied the thin line of Stephen's lips, and how the blue irises had darkened to a slate gray under eyes more hooded than usual. 

“Is it really that bad?” Loki asked softly. "My sharing the sweetness of the past with you?”

"Call me selfish, but I'd rather we work on our own story. For the future."

That caught Loki by surprise. "Do you foresee one with me?" 

The clock on the wall mocked Loki with every ticking of the second hand.

With a sneer as bitter as his smile, he scoffed, "Of course. Your lips are sealed. I didn't know what I was expecting."

"Everything I have ever said to you is the truth," Stephen said. 

"A curated truth," Loki spat. "A lie would be much kinder."

"I love you," Stephen said sharply. "I didn't lie about that."

"I cannot think of the future when I am with you, Strange," Loki snapped. "Not with you knowing what you know."

"Then think of the present," Stephen pleaded. He reached for Loki's hand. "Be in the present.”

“We’re all relics in the end," Loki whispered.

"Until then, be with me," Stephen implored fiercely. "If you won't be mine, just be in the present. With me.”

"I am not lamenting a secret lover who fought and died in the war, Strange," Loki said. 

Then who was Darryl? Stephen sorely longed to ask, but Loki beat him to the punch.

"Darryl was Thor's roommate when he was moonlighting in Australia some years ago. I stole these from the box of goodies he must have sent my Brother for Anzac Day."

"Anzac Day?"

"Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. To commemorate their fallen in the Gallipoli Campaign in World War I and in all the allied campaigns thereafter, their countrymen bake biscuits."

"Surely that is not all they do."

"It is no different than the libation we used to drink to honor Odin's chosen heroes on the Feast of the Einherjar," Loki said, his eyes taking on a thousand-yard stare. "It is a tradition that has endured the test of time."

With that last revelation, Loki visibly shrank in his seat; he looked small and young and yet every one of his thousand-odd years.

"The recipe has remained unchanged for over a hundred years," Loki mumbled. "I brought some for I had wished to share them with you."

The sweetness of the past, Loki had said. 

And Stephen had ruined it all in a fit of petty jealousy.

He grabbed the last biscuit out of the plastic box and took a bite. For an oat biscuit, it was very crunchy.

"This isn't a biscuit," he mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs. "It's a cookie."

Loki watched Stephen chew with wary eyes still steeped in hurt. 

"It's protected under food naming regulations. Calling it a cookie could earn you a heavy fine."

"Seriously?" 

"Do you like it?"

"It's...sweet." Stephen drilled the tip of his tongue into one of his back molars. "It might have just given me a cavity."

Loki laughed a soft, tinkling chuckle that momentarily returned the light to his eyes. But to Stephen's great dismay, the mirth did not last for long. 

"You never did ask me properly."

"I could ask it again if I knew which question you're alluding to."

Loki tilted his head curiously. "How can I be yours if you never asked me?"

Stephen licked his lips. For some reason they had gone dry all of a sudden. "Guess I didn't want to come across as a possessive asshole."

"We're fighting over a biscuit you thought I was only eating because I was mourning a dead lover who did not even exist," Loki said flatly. 

"Touché." Stephen cleared his throat. "Umm. Are you mine?"

Loki only rolled his eyes. "That's very bold of you."

"Are you?" Stephen asked, painfully aware of how desperate he sounded to his own ears.

"You are putting the onus on me to answer your very one-sided question." Loki shook his head with a disappointed sigh and held out his hand. "Will you give me the rest of that? I don't think you deserve it after all."

"No." Stephen palmed the half-eaten cookie possessively into a fist. What was he doing wrong?

He stared at the outstretched hand in front of him and pondered Loki's request. 

Of course.

Stephen closed the palm of his other hand over the long, white fingers. "Loki Odinson…"

Loki stared at him in stunned silence. 

At that moment in time, Stephen knew there was absolutely nothing he would not do to dispel the sheer terror from Loki's suddenly red-rimmed eyes.

"Will you give me the honour of calling you mine for the rest of my life?"

The God of Mischief's face had gone almost as white as the curdling milk in front of him.

"Loki? Are you alri - "

Before Stephen could finish, Loki hurled himself across the table and a flurry of arms wrapped themselves tightly around him. 

"I will." Loki showered Stephen with kisses on his lips and all over his face, "I will, I will, I will!"

Stephen laughed giddily and he returned Loki's kisses with as much, if not more fervor, every single one of them. 

Once they realised they still needed to breathe, they parted reluctantly.

Stephen fingered the hollow of his now-fiancé's cheek. “But the famine soup...really isn’t that nutritious, you know.”

“It’s got bits of meat in it,” Loki argued.

“Which you dug out and hid in your napkin when you thought I wasn't looking,” Stephen chastised lightly. “Then the soup becomes nothing but sugar and flour.”

Loki happily wrapped his arms around Stephen's neck once more. "Will you help me eat it from now on? I can't digest cheap cuts very well and I'd hate to waste perfectly good food."

"For you, babe..." Stephen pulled Loki's face toward him for another kiss, "There's nothing I won't do."

It could be the syrup or it could be true love, but it tasted sweet as hell; now that Stephen could partake in it to his heart's content, he knew he was the most blessed man in the universe.

"I love you, Loki."

"And I, you, Doctor."

Oh, he was blessed alright.

[redshirtgal]

This article is going to stray off the usual Redshirt/ TOS extras topic a bit. I ran across the basic info while researching someone else and realized this was just too good not to share.

Take a good look at this October 1967 TV Guide article. Most Trek fans know there were at least five female android series in "I, Mudd" and that three sets of identical twins were used to represent certain series. But most people either don't realize or don't pay attention to the fact there was a male set of twins used to represent the Herman series in the episode. They were usually seen in the background, guarding doorways or seen behind the shoulders of the main characters.

Their names were Tom and Ted Le Garde and chances are, you have never heard of them before. But it turns out they were quite well known in some areas of the world by the time they appeared on Star Trek.

(Billy Blackburn was also a member of the Herman series of androids but notice he was placed in the forefront and the twins were placed farther back so you would not notice they really do not look all that similar) Even though Tom and Ted were primarily known as country western singers from Australia, they had been encouraged by their manager to take acting lessons. During the 60s, the twins came to the U.S. to seek their fame and fortune. By chance, the Le Gardes were appearing in Los Angeles in an off-Broadway production of THE WORLD OF CARL SANDBURG. William Shatner was a friend of the director and producer, Ed Ludlum, and he was there in attendance on opening night. After the show was over, Shatner came backstage and chatted a bit with them. Eventually, he told them about an opportunity on an upcoming Star Trek episode called "I, Mudd" to play twin androids and asked if they were interested. And of course they were!

They believed their connection with Shatner and Ludlum proved useful when they landed their next role as a pair of river bandits in an episode of Daniel Boone titled "Sidewinder and Cherokee." The twins enjoyed keeping both Fess Parker and the guest star Forrest Tucker confused about which brother they were speaking with.

But let's back up a little bit and take a look at how the twins got their start. When they were children, they fell in love with both country western music and cowboy movies. The first western movie they saw was one with Hopalong Cassidy, whom they would meet many years later. 

Tom and Ted Le Garde eventually left the home at the age of 15 to work at one of the largest cattle ranches in Australia. Quick to learn, soon they became adept at riding horses, herding cattle, whip-cracking, and marksmanship with a rifle. But their love of music also led them into entering many singing contests while they were also participating in rodeos. In 1947, Tom and Ted received an offer to join Buddy Williams Wild West Show. At that time, they were the youngest professional rodeo riders at the age of 17. But they were also allowed to continue singing and became popular with the audiences as Australia’s Yodeling Stockmen.

And all that hard work paid off. In 1950, Tom and Time Le Garde  released their first recordings for Rodeo. And in 1952, their fortunes took off when they signed on with their first manager, Edward Samuels. He helped them refine their act, steered them toward motivational books, and had them take acting lessons. Between 1952 and 1957, they released a number of singles under the Regal Zonophone label. 

In 1954, Tom and Ted Le Garde met their idol William Boyd aka "Hopalong Cassidy" while he was on tour in Australia. That was likely the most important moment in their lives. For the rest of that tour, they were his support act. By the time they decided to try their luck in the U.S. and Canada, he had introduced them to others well known country western singers such as Roy Rodgers and Gene Autry.

The Le Gardes were already popular recording stars in Australia before they left for the United States. They had hit singles on both the Rodeo and Regal Zonophone Records, including "Before the Dawn," There's a Bridle Hanging on the Wall," and "Nobody's Darling But Mine." After they had finished their first American tour, they set up their own version of The Grand Ole Opry in Sydney and began recording for Columbia Records, sometimes with Lorne Green and Marty Robbins. The Le Gardes put out three albums and a string of singles. With Gary Paxton as producer, they recorded the single "True Love" which broke into the Top 90 Country Hits. The Le Gardes had another Top 90 single with "I Can Almost Touch The Feelin'." Gary Paxton had again served as their producer. The following year, they barely made the charts with "Daddy's Makin' Records in Nashville."

With all these recordings, naturally they began showing up on variety and talk shows in Australia, Canada, Los Angeles, Nashville, and Las Vegas as well as producing several of their own. After appearing in several shows in Canada, it was rumored they were going to have their own talk show there but it never seemed to pan out. However, back in Hollywood, the Le Gardes were seen on Doye O’Dell’s Western Varieties TV shows and hosted their own TV series on KTLA-TV Los Angeles. They made several appearances on the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville as well. Back in Australia, they began working on their own show called "Country Style" in 1967, even filming at least one episode. However the TV studio rejected it and the episode was not aired until 2010. But the following year, they did agree to host a variety show called Studio A. On one of their returns to the United States, Elvis Presley's manager Colonel Tom Parker helped them get a three year contract in Las Vegas which provided some stability while they continued to record.

How many times have we seen a Star Trek connection to Elvis Presley? This one, however, is unique. Not only were the Le Garde twins taken under the wing of Presley's manager, Colonel Tom Parker, but they also wore variations of a very famous Elvis costume on stage. Elvis' jumpsuit was known as the "Light Blue Target Suit" and was made by Bill Belew's IC Costume Company. The white and the black versions of the Le Garde's outfits were made by the same company. No one knows if Colonel Tom Parker took them to Bill Belew's company and asked to have these jumpsuits created off the pattern for Elvis Presley's or if the Le Gardes themselves ask Parke for help in ordering the two sets. Bill Belew rarely did individual orders by the 70s so Parker had to have been involved somehow. In the photo above, the suit in the center is a copy of the Elvis suit - the stones are a lighter blue. But you can see there are slight differences between the ones worn by the Le Gardes and this copy - the stones in the Le Gardes’ jumpsuit were spaced farther apart. If you want to see the actual Elvis outfit, you can click on this link.  https://www.tapatalk.com/groups/elvismomentsintime/13-blue-starburst-jumpsuit-t6529.html

In 1987, they were awarded Hall Of Fame status at Australia’s prestigious Tamworth Country Festival and during the 80s, they launched their own Boomerang label and made several appearances in the UK, including at the Wembley Festival. Their last US country chart entry in 1988, "Crocodile Man From Walk," reached number 92.

Maybe the Le Gardes never quite made it to the top level of stardom in the U.S., they still managed to enjoy quite a bit of success both there and in their home country. In 2015, they released a book about their rise to fame as Australia's first country western music export. Even though Ted Le Garde died in 2018, they are still fondly remembered by many of their countrymen. Quite an accomplishment for twin brothers we only knew as male androids in "I, Mudd."

[kenyatta]

Mostly, Beauvoir’s correspondents wrote to her as a woman reader to a woman writer, a “dynamic that vexed her for much of her career,” even though she profited from the material inscribed in each and every letter. Beauvoir herself repeatedly observed that these letters provided her with an anchor in the world, a belief that her thoughts were welcome. She even went on to claim that every work of literature was a collaboration between the writer and the reader. The sentiment implies that, over the years, readers influenced the changing course of her thoughts; and perhaps they did. It certainly explains why these letters feel as alive today as they must have felt on the days they were written, then received and responded to

What kept the correspondence at such a high pitch throughout the years must certainly have been the quality of Beauvoir’s replies. Readers seem altogether confident that she wanted to hear from them and, moreover, was interested in what they had to say. And they were right, she did, and she was. However, none of this means that Beauvoir got a free pass from her readers at all times. She did not. Even her most dedicated fans felt it necessary to oppose her from time to time for some unpopular position she insisted on taking, and at least once the opposition was alarming.

The Algerian war was the most agonizing event in Beauvoir’s life, worse even than World War II. The shame she felt over French colonialism ate her alive. In this she was not alone. Thousands of her countrymen and women endured the same burden of shame; they had collaborated with the Nazis and now, it was felt, they were acting like Nazis themselves. Beauvoir began to write passionately—articles, books, essays—as though she felt personally responsible for her government’s actions. Many of her fellow intellectuals called into question what seemed like melodramatic self-laceration but the hundreds of letters she personally received were “soaked in shame” for reasons that echoed her own.

The passivity of the French people at large, their failure to mount a peace movement on behalf of Algeria, drove Beauvoir to despair—existential despair—and her writing became ever more impassioned. Then one day she wrote a vividly detailed column about an Algerian woman who had been tortured and raped multiple times by French soldiers. To her amazement, the whole country turned on her. Otherwise devoted readers attacked her for her graphic description of the rapes. Beauvoir, it was said, lacked pudeur; that is, discretion, restraint, decency. (Coffins’s discussion ofpudeur is delicious.) In 1950s France, bourgeois embarrassment still trumped the need to expose political barbarism. Ironically, this brouhaha was exactly the kind of social penalty that always made Beauvoir take the revolutionary stand for which she was hugely admired if not entirely loved.

[silversabl-inova]

( same information beneath the read more if you’d rather click through. ) BIOGRAPHY | BASICS | WANTED ARCS

i can bear any   p a i n   as long as it has meaning.

IC PORTION; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Silvija “Silver” Sablinova

FACECLAIM: Katherina McNamara

AFFILIATIONS: The Wild Pack, ISA 

AGE (physical age as well, if different): Twenty three (23)

SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC?

... Is ‘both’ an okay answer? I’m sure she thinks her identity is secret, but her name is Silver Sablinova, it’s not like... a leap to guess she’s the Silver Sable.  I guess it’s probably secret to the rest of the world because I don’t think she’s “famous” yet, but in her home country and the criminal underworld of eastern Europe, she’s probably pretty well known for her more infamous capabilities.

IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION?

She prefers the term “secular recovery operative” but she’d be most appropriately dubbed a nationalistic bounty hunter.

IF YOUR CHARACTER LIVES IN THE FORTRESS, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES?

N/A.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

[ + ]: PROUD - The third generation of Symkarian nationalists, Silver’s childhood was quickly marred by an airstrike that stole her mother’s life and destabilized her entire country, causing a civil war. Ever since, all Silver’s life has felt like a battle: for freedom, for justice, for family, and for peace. She knows her family history like the back of her hand, and because of this, she knows that fateful day was the result of her own family lineage doing everything it can to protect Symkaria & its people - but in the end, they had done anything but. The last surviving member of the Sablinova line, it’s Silver’s duty to restore balance to Symkaria, and she holds this duty deep in her heart, fueling the fire inside her. Everything in her life can be boiled down to ending the war in Symkaria - nothing else matters to her, and Silver’s duty to her country & compassion for her people are, arguably, her best qualities. [ + ]: RESOURCEFUL - There’s nothing in a room that Silver can’t make into a weapon at a moment’s notice. She’s not above fighting dirty to achieve the upperhand, and if her arsenal of gadgets won’t do the trick, than whatever’s closest to her will have to do. Locked in an empty room? No matter - she’s trained her entire life for the inevitable day when that situation arises, and when it does, her foe will be shocked to learn that she is the deadliest weapon of all. [ + ]: UNWAVERING - Devotion is one thing, but Silver is unwavering in her support. Once past her icy exterior, Silver tends to show her devotion with actions rather than words. She’s the first to interject herself into a dangerous situation to protect those she cares about; that circle is too small to allow any harm in its way, and Sable would break any law or commit any crime to safeguard those closest to her. It’s why her heart has such exclusive access - that kind of loyalty is, quite literally, worth dying for.

[ - ]: COLD - There’s a certain sharpness Silver tends to adopt when dealing with... people. Whether it be her version of professionalism, or just a product of her childhood, Silver’s apathetic approach to most interactions may give the impression of aloofness or distance. Bridging that gap is difficult for her, and for what she can’t give people emotionally, she tries to supplement with non-verbal acts of compassion. Not everyone has the ability to see through her stony exterior, or bone dry humor, and she often comes across as unhospitable or unconcerned, even if she’s anything but. [ - ]: DETACHED - Sometimes, you have to be selfish to be selfless. Silver has to remind herself of this fact constantly to keep herself in check; it’s easy to be swept up in the warmth of compassion for all, but a good leader knows when to draw the hard line between what’s good for everyone, and what’s good for your people. Silver has to draw that hard line far more than she’d like to - her one track mind is on brand for the Wild Pack’s affairs, but on a larger scale, this self-centeredness can spell disaster when they’re not careful. She just continues to tell herself that if Symkaria will ever be restored to its former glory, she needs to become as comfortable as she can with restricting big picture empathy. [ - ]: INFALLIBLE - When Silver makes a choice, be it over a contract or a personal matter, she becomes quite obstinate that her decision was the best possible one. In most cases, thankfully, it ends up being true; however, when Silver does make a mistake, she will outright refuse to accept responsibility, instead often blaming all other factors surrounding the situation for impeding her. If the mistake is a deadly error that costs innocent lives, than her adamance  increases tenfold, but in her heart, she knows she’s not free from wrongdoing - she just refuses to relent her headstrong exterior for fear of losing the respect of the Wild Pack.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES:

Indomitable Will: unnaturally strong willpower, able to resist all forms of temptation, including subordination manipulation, telepathy, subliminal seduction, & mind control.

Weapons Specialist: skilled with a katana, throwing projectiles, stun guns, & dual-wield fighting.

Master Martial Artist: and gymnast!

Multilingual: Fluent in seven languages - English, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Somali, & Symkarian

WEAKNESSES:

Human: Quite literally, she’s human. No level of aptitude with guns, throwing knives, Kevlar bodysuits, or martial arts will help her defeat super-powered foes, and even though she can keep up with the best of them, a well timed sniper would write the end to Silver’s story immediately.

The Wild Pack: One of the last vestiges of her family history, Silver’s pledge to lead the Wild Pack includes protecting them, at all costs. There’s few honors she holds higher than the privilege to be apart of their ranks, let alone their commander in chief. She wouldn’t jeopardize their well-being for any contract, no matter how ludicrous.

Symkaria: It goes without saying that on the global playing field, Symkaria is the beating heart of Silver’s allegiances. She loves her country, and she would do anything to return it to the glory of her childhood - even if that means aligning with the wrong people for the right amount of time. Silver’s compassion for her countrymen - and longing for what used to be - outranks her perception of the bigger picture.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?:

Well. I love Silver Sable, off the bat - the Spiderverse is pretty much my favorite comic conglomerate in the world, so I feel pretty comfortable writing characters derived from it. I dig a good villain, or at least, antagonists, and I just feel like Silver is one of those characters you can really dig your teeth into & flesh out so many different layers. The death of her mother at a young age, the duty to a country she saw prosper & implode within her lifetime, the lineage to uphold within The Wild Pack, and moving forward, the mending of Symkaria & creation of Sable International -- they’re all different strokes of the same woman, and I love poking & prodding around them all to see what sticks!

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA?

Money. She’s only there to fulfill a contract - she’s been hired by the ISA to retrieve any powered people she can find. She’s not a big fan of Sokovia as of late, especially given their recent catastrophes. The damage to Sokovia had a ripple effect, upsetting the socioeconomic standard of neighboring countries. This, of course, includes Symkaria; getting powered people out of Sokovia will hopefully halt the continued destabilization she’s watched through her country even further off balance, making it easier for the oppressive regime currently in place to make swooping laws

(I would like to offer your current players the ability to opt into this plot! I don’t want to assume anyone wants her as an antagonist - if no one’s interested, she can certainly creep along the sidelines within the city of Matchak in the name of reconaissance. I would die if she & the Wild Pack were part of the reason why people are going missing in the woods, or at the very least, they begin to provide intelligence as to who or what is causing it.)

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT?

No, Silver & her team aren’t superpowered and thus, outside the scope of the Accords, the ISA, or anybody else, for that matter.

(Well, maybe not Interpol, but that’s not her chief concern... ever.)

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER:

Thou Shalt Not Kill: Silver doesn’t consider herself a mercenary, unlike the rest of her crew, and for good reason. She staunchly keeps to a “no kill” rule; her clients pay her for retrieval, not assassination (and even if they did, her price would be too high). Silver specifically accepts contracts that require her to bring the target back alive, preferably to face trial. It’s a moral and economical decision - she believes in the hard lines of justice, and typically, the Wild Pack will get hired to also run security for these high profile trials. It’s a win-win in her eyes, especially because this moral alignment begins & ends with her; she can’t force the Wild Pack, a band of true mercenaries, to abide by that rule unless it’s part of the fine print. Otherwise, they don’t get paid.

I’m Not Your Silver Lining: Silver does not “connect” well with others. Even the Wild Pack, despite being raised within their ranks, has become inexplicably difficult for her to bond with after she assumed a leadership rule over them. She doesn’t put herself on any kind of pedestal; it’s just lonely at the top, and heavy is the head that wears the.. crown? Tactical helmet? Whatever. Regardless, her icy exterior isn’t the result of her pride, but her inability to display outward affection. It makes her quite difficult to befriend, let alone romance.

Anything You Can Do...: She does not do well with being confronted with her own mortality, chiefly the indisputable fact that she is not super powered. She’s quick to start a fight with anyone who dares to say it. Silver has accomodated this woeful transgression of fate in every way she could, keeping a strict training routine that began in her childhood and never letting herself have a “real” life outside of the Wild Pack. Stories of her “powers,” passed in hushed whispers around Symkaria, never failed to bring the smallest of smiles to the Ice Queen’s lips, before quickly melting away. She feels uncomfortable around true superpowered individuals, knowing she’s at a tactical disadvantage at all times, so Silver prefers the company of augmented humans or just normal people.

WANTED CHARACTER CONNECTIONS:

Peter Parker: NEVERENDING PLOTS FOR SPIDEY!!!! I’m partial to Silver being an antagonist against Spiderman; I’m also partial to them being begruding partners, and pretty much everything in between! There’s a lot of back story I would want to establish with Peter’s player, since Silver does have some background in NYC at the Symkarian Embassy. Has she heard of him from her time in America, and can’t believe her eyes when she sees web residue in the forests of Sokovia? Maybe he intrigues her, in the sense of cat-and-mouse, the chase for a target that she can never quite catch. Anyway, I just like that they’re well matched and could endlessly go in circles around one another!

Dick Grayson: Silver will not take well to other mercenaries on her turf, and if she finds herself losing targets - and money - because of some dick in a spandex suit, she’s going to intervene the only way she knows how: a tactical net and a stun gun, to haul his ass off to ISA, or whoever offers the highest bid for his head. Either way, their connection would be openly antagonistic, and it’d be way more enjoyable if he continously slips through her fingers through the fault of only her own.

Tony Stark / Bruce Wayne: Waaaaaay in the future, but right off the bat - I know I’d love to lay the groundwork for Silver to have Tony and/or Bruce help her begin the first drafts of Sable International weaponry, specifically the special red energy blasters they use as well as their unique armor.

I like the idea of Tony trying to spear head any kind of science based project, but obviously, he has his own demons that he’s struggling with re: his inventions, so that would be the slowest of burns for Silver to actually convince him to help her of all people. Potentially, it would be easier to recruit Bruce because she has a hard moral alignment of Justice, which may appeal to him, but it also may not since she doesn’t have an issue breaking other countries’ laws to acquire her target. It really depends! I’m open to either or both options.

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: ( ohhhhh buddy... )

THE WILD PACK: Silver’s ascenscion to leader of the Wild Pack may not be a new development, but  I don’t think she has quite the handle over her role as her father had. At the moment, she’s still trying to prove herself that she was their best choice. It doesn’t help that she was merely picked for lineages’ sake, the group being “passed on” to her, despite there being members who were more qualified and possibly, even more respected than a Sablinova. It’s caused Silver to retreat within herself, for now, as she tries to feel out what’s the best version of herself to be that can actively command their respect. I want to see her grow within this role, specifically finding her stride and proving herself as not just her father’s daughter, but her own person. I’m mainly focused on her accepting the weight of her father’s death as a “positive” burden to shoulder, because it gave her the Wild Pack, but without anyone to banter off of, I want to remain a little removed from addressing her relationships with individual members until I get a better idea of her.

THE BAD GUY?: At the moment, she’s not very concerned with anyone’s opinion of her, outside of the Wild Pack’s. If that means that she’s comes across as a “villain” for simply doing her job, she doesn’t quite care - everyone has to make a living somehow, and she hasn’t seen these so-called “superheros” do very much to help anyone other than themselves. Sure, individual civilians are great to rescue, but they hold no concern for the bigger picture when it comes to their actions.

THE GLOBAL PEACE AGENCY: I don’t know what the hell is going to happen with this group, but boy am I excited! Regardless of whether their true to their name, I think Silver’s entire personality is tailored to be taken advantage of by them, especially if they promise stability for Symkaria. As long as she’s not exposed to intel that hints at bad intentions, she’d probably operate at their beck and call, until her trust in their motivations becomes fractured.

SABLE INTERNATIONAL: I want Sable International to come to fruition!!! I don’t know how, or why, but I just love that journey for her! Maybe as a retirement plan from “bounty hunting,” so she can lean more into private security consulting? Maybe as a tactical weaponry distributor that could rival Lex Luthor / Trask / Oscorps’ on the global market, but in the name of “good”? Maybe something happens to the Wild Pack and it’s the only way she can keep herself sane in the following months? WHO KNOWS!!! I’m always open to ideas!

CHARACTER BIO —

Silvija Sablinova and her mother, Sacha, were sleeping peacefully in their beds the morning that the Sablinova family was changed forever. It was too early to even be awake, dawn having not yet struck its colorful brilliance across the lavender-grey when the drone peppered the valley. It wasn’t the first time such an act of aggression was lobbed across their way, but this time, her father Ernest wasn’t there to save them, away on an assignment with his Wild Pack. It was the end of February, the winter of 2002. Silver was five, and from that moment on, she never left her father’s side again.

After that, the story sounds the same. Daddy's little girl raised to be his right hand; there's no softness, no grief, only purpose for them both to find vengenance for her mother's killer. Not a border nor an army could keep them from finding whoever ordered the strike, and with the Wild Pack by their side, their path toward retribution knew no limit. In the mean time, they trained, and Silver's entire life began and end at all the same lines as her father's. It would be nice, if the story could stop there, but it never does.

For generations, the Sablinova's served the monarchy that ruled over Symkaria, until World War II threw the entire planet off-kilter and brought their beloved country into turmoil. Her grandfather was a prolific Nazi hunter and a national hero, actively fighting against the civil war threatening to break out across the land. Her father followed in his footsteps, his career more focused on collecting HYDRA agents with terror charges, alongside his infamous band of mercenaries as they brought countless criminals to justice. In 2017, when it was exposed that HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD, a frequent employer of the Wild Pack...It was no surprise they would be targeted, but once again, Symkaria became the battleground of their disposal; their loved ones targeted, their neighborhoods raided, and soon, they were left no choice but to go underground.

Silver was there the day that her father's tenure as their fearless leader came to a shuddering halt, face to face with the man who hadn't just taken her mother from them. He'd destroyed their homeland in the name of the enemy. He'd taken peace from innocents without a second thought. In his final act of treachery, he stole her father's life and body, slipping through the Wild Pack's clutches as they gave desperate chase, but to no avail. She was the natural choice as his successor; it was a lifetime achievement tainted with sorrow and defeat.

The hunt has never ended, despite what Silver says. She knows her father's dead, and she'll probably never find the man who destroyed her family, but still, she waits. Until then, it was business as usual; catch the bad guys, bring them to justice, rinse & repeat. No duty is monotonous when it serves a greater purpose, but eventually, even Silver couldn't stop herself from pushing the Wild Pack toward Sokovia. Their unrest had begun to bubble over and spill across its borders, eventually displacing refugees and criminal activity into Symkaria's own. Silver Sable may be investigating client contracts, but Silver Sablinova is bidding her time, waiting for something, anything to help her either accept the fate that's been handed to her, or to find the man that caused it.

Until then, all she can do is be stronger than she was the day before.

[kylebloodworththomason]

yo for the headcanons maybe? i want to hear about her she is so good

EXPLODES i was hoping i would get to talk about her and you did it. Friend Monarch Countrymen... YO 

Sexuality Headcanon: BLESBIAN be real she isnt “attracted” to chum chum she is obsessed with how he is like a tiny puppy and so small also shes 10 or smth

Gender Headcanon: trans girl...

A ship I have with said character: definitely marsha and yo at least if they ever interacted. yo would LOVE to construct evil plans i think! she’d be like super over the top. marsha would be like (super complicated evil scheme) and yo would be like AND AT THE END WE KILL FANBOY AND CHUM CHUM! and marsha would be like ...if you want? i was gonna say we could get ice cream after... also yo and lupe are cute! they are friends! they hold hands and do stuff together!

A BROTP I have with said character: yo chum chum and kyle blah blah blah (when she finds out kyle owns like 6 versions of the same shirt and pants she takes him to target and buys out the whole store using her allowance but he never wears the clothes she gets him cos hes autism/she finds out she has no parents and freaks out and gets so excited but when she learns all he eats is chicken nuggets shes like...oh) but also her and evil big scampers...they frolic in the fields together and she keeps him locked in her closet to hide him from her parents and for halloween she dresses up like him and he doesnt understand it at all hes like that is me. you are me. i am me. destroy imposter and shes like ugh...dont try to kill me AGAAAIN....

A NOTP I have with said character: ok obvs her with chum chum mostly cos. it’s used as a throwaway “ship” in fan fictions because people dont care about them and just want to commit fankyle. and it’s lame, it’s so much more fun to have them be friends? but also cos i think shes lesbian. and also her and fanboy STOP THAT IT SUCKS.

A random headcanon: AUTISM okay here i’ll indulge more than with kyle. she literally is like onscreen CONSTANTLY stimming. like every action she does is jerky or stimming she is just. and also she’s like explicitly like SUPER obsessed with yamagutchi. obviously it’s not much evidence or traits but. she is. i know it. also her little character in animal crossing wears a duck bill and she’s not one of those people who will make her villagers move out by beating or ignoring them but she WILL time travel (unlike kyle who refuses to beat/ignore his villagers OR time travel, and chum chum and fanboy who will beat/ignore their villagers but not time travel). her favorite villager is purrl and her favorite personalities are uchi, smug and snooty, and she’d kill for willow. she doesnt have new horizons but she does have new leaf

General Opinion over said character: OH I LOVE HER i wish she had more canon content of her! she has episodes with her revolving around her but theyre mostly about fanboy and chum chum dealing with her? like pranky episode and digital pet cemetary. also i wish she and lupe were seen as the counterparts to fanboy and chum chum more than how the “fandom” appears to see sigmund and kyle as that? especially as how they are both like, better than fanboy and chum chum at stuff, and share their traits but as like, evil. also i want yo and lupe to have superpowers idk :3

[gplewis]

to memory’s landscape

I used to be feral, committed, foaming at the mouth when holding a keyboard

like Ezra Pound said, “Reading should make man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in his hands” — writing was that for me, the recycling of nested angst, unresolved childhood rage at unrecognition, not being seen as my therapist said...the same old beautiful white male coastal elite angst (anxiety, depression, fear of not having enough, fear of loss, fear of not living up to some imagined father’s expectations, fear of disappointing, fear of not fitting in, fear of losing housing and healthcare and food budget because I didn’t do enough good work, fear of falling behind

but what you remember saves you:

https://www.jamievaron.com/

Is it true I just haven’t web-designed myself? monetized and profitized and productized myself? gotten enough clients? fans? followers? patrons? do I even want to talk to anyone? do I even want to share my darkness and secrets? or is it so banal that I would not want to even be seen taking up space as if what I have to say is worth hearing? I appreciate your time, I do, and if I could fill it or suggest what to fill it with, I probably wouldn’t put my writing there. I’m becoming increasingly suspect and skeptical that “what I write” and “what I would suggest you read” have anything to do with each other; I don’t know that I’d recommend me — I’m still working it out, still doing therapy in every text box I encounter

all I write about is what I’m not, maybe — or maybe that’s just the dirt I pile to the side of where I dig; maybe where I’m going has nothing to do with what’s coming up; maybe the dirt I pile up next to my active burrowing has nothing to do with what I’ve found or what I see, only what I must clear away

“The more the marble wastes, the more the statue grows.” — Michelangelo

it’s not easy to be T.S. Eliot. I wonder if it’s harder to be G.P. Lewis, this thing I’m driving, trying to earn anew if thou wouldst possess it to quote a favorite line of Goethe ~ but I wonder what good this spectacle is of creative man raging against his limits, his inertia, churning up the chorus of opposing critical voices in his head: it’s boring, every man has them, but perhaps other men are trapped, addicted and beseeched by this desire to possess and control, to own and to win, to hold power, to be safe, to ensure safety through money, property, status whereas the poet knows all those safeties are illusions and always stripped away — men keep going to the office and putting on the clothes of their known identity (conceptual clothes; ways of posturing, speaking in a way that holds up power structures) to keep from facing the barrenness and nudity of having to stand with only your soul, with only your way of seeing, your memory and your skills, having to be seen completely by the world, and worst of all, yourself.

Surely a safe career (at least held in the mind as such) is just to keep from looking at yourself. One can say it’s for money, for the mortgage, for the children’s education, and it might be. But when night falls and everyone’s self gets blurry and disintegrated (as the cosmic summons back all its children for a night’s rest) we become aqueous; there are no walls, no one owns a thing...and the poet returns to his daytime work, the hammering, chiseling and engineering of a thing on a canvas (or in a file, or at a URL like this Tumblr post) that might make such men of industry see that they must become poets, initiate a softening, a milkifying, a creaming ~ becoming a different kind of material, being open to the ecstatic, the tender...I am here, perhaps, to rescue men from taxes and accounts, from holdings and balances (or maybe I just need to be rescued from them? Wouldn’t I clamor if a corporate woman came and wanted me as her house cat? Wouldn’t I be glad not bringing in revenue, being a homemaker, raising the child, even having some help to come in every morning so I could write? Is it possible? Is it almost here? Have I just not wanted it enough until right now? Is this what I want?

I think that’s the most spacious question one can ask: what do I really want? And it’s at war against just one enemy: what is expected of me; outstanding credits on the account of you, your becoming, where you think you’d like to go, what you think you’d like to do. What’s allowed. And this is where art must become the central force of any adult’s life (rather than checking work email or social media, hunting for inconsistencies or apparent facts that threaten one’s sense of what should be happening...perhaps the poet’s sensibility is that no one knows and no one can really know what ought to be happening, that it’s still an open question, that we are all swimming in that question and in fact we should leave all our clothes on the shore and swim out, trust our nakedness, trust the water, forget the fear we’ve had of each other, forget the fear of being touched...putting ourselves in each other’s hands, forgetting nations, forgetting governments, forgetting private property and accounts...can we do it? Mustn’t we? Is this not essential work? The work of shedding what we’ve been afraid of, cracking the shell of our scared ego and letting us become full-fledged spiritual beings having a human experience? Can we see a hundred years out? A thousand?

So what if this is an unhinged rant? Don’t we need some visionaries who insist on saying what they see even if there’s no profit motive, no agenda, no “trying” to “get” something? This is all proof that nothing can be gotten, that none of us get above being a floating eyeball reporting what it sees and what it feels. We are naked. We are only just beginning to see the light, crawl to shore and make our first night together with our bedfellow: patience, faith, solitude, gratitude, awe.

These are the nouns a poet must reclaim. These are the nouns that should fill the mainstream airwaves, that the young people should dance to and text about. But everyone does it themselves — I did. I listened and learned and took notes and lived in those notes, eschewing other ladder-climbing. No, I descended, I did not climb. The real estate upwards is all contested; only in the deep descent would I find no friction ~ and so I left the workforce. My LinkedIn profile is true (Geoff Lewis 🎨 ✍🏻 I think I’m called there) but I walked away from seeing myself in terms of organizations — the only aristocracy I’m interested in is the aristocracy of passionate souls: painters, poets, actors, musicians, composers, scientists, madmen, freaks, sideshow clowns...independent contractors, public amateurs committed to the form and the flow and the lineage and their own seriousness — yes, seriousness is a home, a hearth, a homeland. I want — no, I long, I yearn to meet and be with my countrymen. Need we go to war? Against what? The U.S. government not giving us another stimulus check? The array of paperwork and bureaucracy keeping the money out of our hands? Need I really turn back and brand myself, take up the arms of calendar and email and prostrate in front of a potentially paying customer? Why does money rankle me so deeply? Am I existentially furious that I’m intertwined with commerce which is necessarily about oppression and domination and withholding? What can my passion do? Is it OK that my passion only shows itself in silence? Maybe this voice of mine could animate you, a young activist, someone who doesn’t aspire to spend five hours a day every day in silent solitude reading and writing...everybody needs a job. 

[the-captains-ayebrows]

I’m intrigued by the therapy one and the studio?

The Studio AU was supposed to be a three-parter Modern AU. The first part is modern deckhand!hook backstory. It’s all him and Milah and Gold. That’s the only part I’ve written so far. Part 2 and 3 were going to be Emma and Henry’s backstories, respectively. All of them are told as flashbacks and the stories dovetail into each other so Killian, Emma and Henry meet at this recording studio where Emma works and Killian is a guitar player. I may post part 1 just on it’s own, since it’s actually finished. IDK.

The therapy one though...Oh lord... *blushes* That sprung from a GIF of Bernard Curry as a high school principal.

The basic premise is that Emma is in court-ordered anger management counseling. Liam is her therapist. Emma has been angrier than usual lately because her new neighbor wakes her up cheering at football matches that air at 4 am. She also may be having a few questionable dreams about said neighbor. Little does she realize the neighbor is her therapist’s brother.

Here’s what I’ve got thus far:

“I don’t need therapy.”

The doctor slid on a pair of reading glasses, and began thumbing through her paperwork. “That may well be Miss Swan, but Judge Spencer seemed to think otherwise. Hence, making it a condition of your probation.”

Emma rolled her eyes. God, this was irritating. “Geez, you slam one slimeball’s head into a steering wheel…”

The doc paused his perusal and looked up at her, blue eyes peeking out over the top of the lenses. “Just the one?”

“I mean,” Emma gestured vaguely with one hand, “there may have been a few skips that I had to get physical with, but they all earned it.”

“Mmhmm. I see.” The doctor closed her file and removed his glasses, sitting up straight to face her fully. “Still, as well-founded as your reasons may have been, the Superior Court of the state of Maine believes that you may have a bit of an anger management problem. And they shan’t reinstate your bail bonds license until I’ve cleared you.”

“So, here I am.” Emma made a sweeping gesture with both hands, encompassing the large tufted leather couch upon which she was sitting as well as the elegant wood-paneled office in general.

He nodded, one corner of his lips tilting up slightly. “So, here we are. Anything you’d care to talk about?”

No. She cocked her head to one side and said the first thing that popped into her mind. “How did America end up calling it ‘soccer’ when the rest of the world calls it football?”

The doc’s eyebrows made a little peak over his nose. “An excellent question to be sure, but I’m afraid that discussion won’t bring us any closer to discovering the root of your anger issues.”

Emma snorted a bitter laugh. Shit. She’d meant to say something random and meaningless. But no. He was infiltrating her thoughts again.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just…” Emma gave him a tight smile.”You’d be surprised.”

“Ah, well then enlighten me.”

Emma leaned forward on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. “I don’t have anger issues. I, uh - I haven’t been sleeping much lately. I guess it’s making me kind of…” She leaned back on the couch again and raised her arms helplessly. “prickly.”

The doctor narrowed his eyes. “And this is somehow related to football?”

“I’m getting to that. I’ve got this new neighbor, see? He’s from your side of the pond, and no offense to your countrymen, but this one’s an asshole.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s all arrogant and smirky and clearly thinks he’s hot. Okay, so he is hot, but the point is he knows it. And he seems to have made it his life’s mission to annoy the shit out of me.”

She didn’t like the way the doc was raising his eyebrows or the tone of his, “Mmhm.”

“Look. All of that I could ignore, but it’s the damn soccer or football or whatever the hell you call it. Apparently my neighbor is a rabid fan of the English Premier League - oh, I’ve googled all of this since I’m fucking awake anyway - and what the hell kind of sport starts at 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday?”

“That doesn’t sound too early…”

Emma leaned forward for emphasis, slamming her hands down on the couch cushion on either side of her. “In England. 9:00 a.m. in England which is 4:00 a.m. here. I swear to God if I hear ‘Glory glory Man United’ drunkenly slurred through my wall when the sun isn’t even up yet one more time, I’m going to go over there, tear his scruffy head off, and shove it up his-”

“Right. Got it.” The doc crossed his legs and tilted his head, seeming to study her. “I don’t supposed you’ve tried asking him to keep it down?”

She fidgeted, taking particular interest in a loose thread sticking out from the seat cushion of the couch. “No,” she finally answered.

“Why not? That seems the simplest solution.”

Emma really didn’t like his insufferably reasonable tone. “That would involve talking to him.”

“And that’s bad.”

“Yes. That’s bad.”

Crap, now he was starting to look worried. “Do you find him to be threatening or harassing? If so, I can-”

“No, no no.” Emma waved his concern away. “It’s not like that. He’s not a creep, and even if it was like that I can take care of myself.” Her fingers fiddled with the thread some more. “I could definitely kick his ass,” she added under her breath.

The doctor fixed her with a wry look. “You realize you aren’t doing a lot to convince me about those anger issues, Miss Swan.”

Emma glared at him in a manner that clearly communicated she could kick his ass, too. He raised a hand in surrender and gestured for her to go on. She didn’t know how to go on. God this was stupid.

“It’s just- he just…” She exhaled heavily. “Flirts with me.”

“And you don’t like that.”

Damn, that thread just really needed to be plucked or clipped or something, and how cliche was it for a shrink to have a leather couch like this?

“Miss Swan?”

Emma pressed her lips together. “Hm?”

“You said that your neighbor flirts with you, and I asked if you don’t like it when he does that?”

Emma felt her cheeks warming. She turned her head to the side and gave a nonchalant shrug. When she glanced back at the doc, he was smiling at her like he’d made some big discovery.

“I see.”

Emma glared again, emphasizing her point with a jab of her index finger in his direction. “You see nothing.”

“Miss Swan, do you have feelings for your neighbor?”

Emma huffed in exasperation. “Of course I have feelings for him. It’s like I just told you: anger, hatred-”

“Sexual frustration?”

“Ew!” Oh, God. What am I twelve? Who says ‘ew’?

“Oh, really?” His eyes were wide and it looked like he was trying to suppress another ‘eureka’ kind of smile.

“It’s-” Emma shook her head and looked at the top of the bookshelf behind him. “It’s nothing. I’ve been having kind of a dry spell, and he’s there, and he’s-”

“Hot? I believe you said he was hot. Your word.”

“It’s nothing. I’ve been having these dreams. It’s kind of the other reason I’m having trouble sleeping.”

“And in these dreams…?” he prompted.

This was getting ridiculous. Emma exhaled sharply and sat up, looking the doc square in the eye. “I have wild crazy monkey sex with my neighbor. Who I hate. Anyway, it’s confusing and I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Fair enough, but Miss Swan, you do realize you have to deal with these issues and perhaps get some sleep before you’ll be able to resume your livelihood?”

“I don’t have issues.” Emma’s voice sounded petulant and unconvincing even to her own ears.

“Lass, I’ve known you for less than half an hour and in my professional opinion, you’ve got a fair few. Trust, intimacy, anger management, denial-”

“Okay, okay. I still don’t want to talk to him. Can’t I just move?”

“Disregarding for the moment whether that’s even a remotely psychologically healthy attitude, is moving a financially viable option for you?”

Emma slumped. “No.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re going to have to face this.” The doctor shifted in his chair, and furrowed his brow. “Now, you say you’ve been having sexual dreams about your neighbor. Have you engaged in any self-release?”

“Self-re...oh my god.” Emma’s head dropped into her hand, covering her eyes. This wasn’t happening. She wasn’t about to get the talk at age 30 from a stuffy Brit in a sweater vest and blazer with elbow patches. He must’ve taken her reaction as embarrassment, and maybe it was, kind of. The second-hand variety anyway. He kept talking. Emma checked out.

“...and that’s why masturbation is perfectly healthy.”

Emma finally raised her head. “Stop. Please. Look, I’ve… self-released before. But, I’m not feeling myself up while thinking about my neighbor. I’m not a creep.”

He extended a hand toward her in what she supposed was meant to be a reassuring gesture. “I’m not suggesting you make it habitual, only that it could be a safe way for you to confront and explore your confusing feelings for this person. Particularly since you seem so resistant to confronting the actual person causing them.”

Wait, that - that actually kind of made sense. “So…” Emma narrowed her eyes. “Like banging one out, only solo?”

“Bit of a gross oversimplification, but yes, I suppose so. Much safer at least than picking up a stranger at a bar and projecting your feelings onto him or her.”

Well, that hit close to home. “Have you been reading my diary, Doc?” Emma asked coyly, trying to make a joke out of it.

He chuckled. “Analysis is my job, Miss Swan. And you, I must admit, are a bit of an open book.”

“Huh.” Emma considered her options. As much as she thought it was dumb and unnecessary, she had to do this therapy thing if she wanted her license back, and this shrink didn’t seem like such a bad guy. A little awkward, maybe a little judgey, but not awful. He didn’t seem put off by her which was unusual enough, and she suspected he might even have a sense of humor in there somewhere. She guessed she could suck it up and deal with this. It was all confidential anyway. It’s not like he can go blabbing on her, right?

“Well, if we’re gonna be discussing every intimate detail of my life, I guess you better call me Emma.”

He smiled again. Not an ‘ah-ha!’ kind of smile like before, but a friendly one. “Very well, Emma. You can call me Liam.”

[doctortreklock]

Never Returned to the World They Knew - April 9, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: "For someone whose dying, you seem kind of happy." (x)

Fandom: Merlin

Title: “Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too” by Shel Silverstein

Words: 1615

It is 1099, and Merlin's lifeblood is soaking the dusty ground beneath him.

He laughs joyfully, the sound loud and broken in the quiet, over in an instant. It is replaced by ragged breaths, the dark stain beneath him ever growing. The sounds of battle rage on, but he is laying in a pocket of calm, his heartbeat growing fainter by the second.

"For someone who is dying," the man next to him gasps out, "you seem kind of happy."

His name is Richard, and he will never walk again, his leg broken in two places, his ankle shattered. He will likely live, though, and be able to return home to his wife and small daughter. He is here for the money and the opportunities. Richard has no desire for a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

"I am happy," Merlin manages around the wounds carving bright streaks of pain through his abdomen. "He's not here yet. I get another chance." Underneath is the more pervasive threat, the dull burn that gradually fades as his body becomes more and more numb.

Richard seems to take that as a sign that Merlin has fallen into a hazy delirium from blood loss. He sits propped up on a rock next to Merlin and begins to recite a prayer, the Latin obviously memorized by rote. A buzzing fills his ears, Richard's words vanishing beneath the hum of his brain shutting down.

Richard doesn't understand that Merlin meant every word he said. Arthur isn't here yet. Merlin has been waiting for him, has been rushing headlong into any trouble England can find herself in, but he hasn't found Arthur yet. And if Arthur hasn't returned, then Merlin isn't done. He will be back again, his reincarnation both a blessing and a curse by turns. He doesn't know why he's still here, just knows that the Once and Future King is still slumbering, and the Old Magic in his veins and his lungs and his skin won't let him go without Arthur.

And so Merlin will wait.

The last thing he sees is sky.

--

It is 1471, and England is tearing herself apart.

Apparently not content with a century of bloodshed in France, Merlin's countrymen - Arthur's subjects - have turned their violence against themselves. Battle lines are quickly and decisively drawn, as mortal men kill for their chance at the throne.

Merlin wants to scream. It's Arthur's throne, he yells in the silence of his own head. It belongs to Arthur and nothing you can do will make you worthy of it.

Time and time again he finds himself by a lake in Wales. Some days he paces wildly, his hands making sharp, angry gestures as he regales his king with the latest in a long line of reasons that prat needs to come back and fix things. Some days he stands still and watches the water quietly before leaving without a word.

And some days he sits at the edge with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around himself as the water gently laps at his toes. And he speaks softly and tells Arthur about all the things he's missed and all the things Merlin wishes he could see. And all the ways that the world is bigger than it was before, and Merlin so much smaller, and how much he misses Arthur.

And king after king is murdered and deposed and Merlin can't stop himself from shaking. Because if this isn't enough for Arthur to come back, if this isn't the hour that England needs him most, then how much worse is it going to get?

--

It is 1652, and the monarchy has fallen.

Parliament, the people, have decided that they are tired of kings and queens and have taken the country into their own bloody hands.

The king is dead, his son banished, and Merlin watches in horror as Arthur's throne is shrouded and sits empty.

He goes to the abbey in London once and finds the tomb of Edward the Confessor, whose death caused the invasion of William and his band of Frenchmen from Normandy. Merlin wonders if Edward knew what chaos his death would bring. If the Saxons who preceded him knew what Arthur's death had done to Camelot and his united Briton.

Merlin has been alive for about a millennium by this point (give or take a few years here and there), and he has seen the good, the bad, and the worse of England. He's been born a lord once or twice, has fought in wars and taken religious oaths and worked the land. Merlin was and always will be a child of the people.

The king had fought Parliament and had lost. Merlin, the boy from Ealdor, knows that Will would have been viciously gleeful about it. That his mother and Gwen would have welcomed the change, the chance to lead a kingdom without bowing to blood and birthright.

But Merlin, who had fought warlocks and dragons and knights to protect the Once and Future King of Camelot? Merlin knows that there are some people who were born to rule, and rule well. That Arthur, no matter his status or birthright, would always end as a leader of men. That people would always gravitate toward him, regardless of whether there was a crown on his head.

He leaves Westminster. Perhaps the throne itself isn't as necessary as he had always believed, but Arthur would always be Merlin's king.

--

It is 1940, and the sky is falling.

Explosions have rocked London for nearly two months straight. Merlin has used his magic more in the last six weeks than he has in six centuries. He rescues children under teetering beams and keeps glass shards from flying when panes shatter against the ground. He keeps windows dark and streets empty at night when the Luftwaffe soar overhead, dropping death in their wake.

He had forgotten what it was like, to feel the rush of energy flow through him, of life. It's as easy as breathing, and he uses it to keep the people of England safe - his people, Arthur's people.

Merlin keeps his eyes open and his ears attuned to the slightest rumor. He reads the newspapers everyday and every war bulletin he can get his hands on. There's no sign of Arthur.

It seems the entire world is at war. Merlin can't imagine a world worse than this one, and it appears other people agree. Arthur may have been gone from the world for centuries, but he never left the public imagination. It seems everyone, from Parliament members to homeless orphans, believes that now is the time for Arthur's return.

But there is no sign of Arthur.

In a way, Merlin is almost proud of that fact. Does he want to see Arthur again? Yes, desperately. He has missed his friend, and Arthur's return may be the only thing capable of halting Merlin's reincarnations. But if Arthur isn't here, that means England will survive this, that she will make it through the bombings and the terror. That Germany will not see her fall. And that is its own kind of comfort.

--

It is today, and Merlin is still waiting.

He is 27 again, and he's sitting on the edge of a fountain in Trafalgar Square, drinking a cup of overpriced coffee and absentmindedly scrolling through the news on his phone.

Each year and each day, the tidings become grimmer and the predictions become more dire. At least, that's what the anchors would have you believe. Merlin lived (and died) through half a dozen waves of the Black Death and over thrice as many wars. He's been shot, stabbed, decapitated, drowned, drawn and quartered, and beaten to death. Rumor of government corruption abroad and economic collapse at home don't shake him the way they do his modern contemporaries.

Sometimes Merlin takes a moment to step back and think about everything that has changed in the last millennium and a half. To marvel at the changes that have been wrought. He misses the magic that permeated everyday life and the smell of dirt roads after it rained. He's also a great fan of penicillin and indoor plumbing, though, so he's not that nostalgic for the 6th century. (Also the coffee.)

But even though he goes to school (because it's expected) and gets a job (because he still needs money, even if he does keep leaving it to himself), he is still only waiting for Arthur to emerge from a lake in Wales. And Merlin wonders how his friend, his king, is going to be able to stand up to guns and missiles and nuclear weapons when he was always most comfortable with a blade in his hands and a horse between his thighs as he led knights into battle.

Merlin comforts himself the same way he has for the last five centuries. The world is changing, but Arthur can change with it. He doesn't need to be king (though thank gods the monarchy had been restored). Arthur was, and will be, a leader of men. He is just and true and righteous, and he will cut down England's enemies with whatever weapons he has to hand, whether swords or soldiers or words.

Arthur Pendragon is the Once and Future King, and he will be glorious upon his return, be it as a soldier, a lawyer, a journalist, a king, or a school boy who hasn't yet learned that money can't buy friends.

Merlin checks the time, then pockets his phone and tosses his empty coffee cup, heading towards the nearest Tube stop.

Arthur will be back one day, and Merlin will be waiting for him when he does.

[pinelife3]

The Silence of the Girls

Pat Barker’s newish (August 2018) book The Silence of the Girls (TSOTG) recounts the final months of the Trojan War, as told by a slave woman. The obvious companion piece to TSOTG, and the key text Barker is responding to, is The Iliad, but Barker doesn’t pull out the way Homer did:

The Iliad only covers a few weeks in the last year of the war and does not include the famous Trojan horse or the actual defeat of Troy: at a high level, The Iliad covers Agamemnon’s lady troubles, the plague, Achilles’ sulking and decision not to fight, the death of Patroclus, Achilles’ return to battle, the death of Hector, the abuse of Hector’s body and Priam’s visit to Achilles.

TSOTG covers these events (also starting in media res - more on that later) from the perspective of Briseis. Our protagonist, formerly the wife of a king, was taken during the sacking of a city neighbouring Troy and was given to Achilles as a prize - like all of the women in the Greek camp, she is a slave. Barker and Briseis continue on after the burial of Hector to include the fall of Troy (no mention of the horse though...) and the rape and destruction which followed including the fate of Astyanax, the Trojan women being handed out as prizes, and the Greeks eventually setting off to return home.

I mention the famous events from the Trojan War above, but in TSOTG most of these happen off screen (out of our protagonist’s line of sight) and are reported to us as gossip spreading around the Greek camp. The reader is stuck in the camp with the women and doesn’t see any of the excitement and action on the battlefield (except for when Briseis climbs on the Myrmidon ships to see the battlefield in the distance). The reader is also privy to a lot of ‘girl talk’ amongst the women as they discus their experiences with the Greek soldiers: who’s pregnant, who’s beloved, who’s in favour. So despite hitting the same broad plot points, we are kept away from the iconic set pieces of the war, and instead get a tour through the backrooms where women do laundry, pray, and heal the injured soldiers. 

When we studied Wide Sargasso Sea in high school, it became part of an interesting conversation on high-lit fan fiction: Jeans Rhys reveals the mysterious mad woman in Rochester’s attic, and she shows us how he drove her mad. More than a hundred years after Jane Eyre was published, Rhys, a Dominican author, chose to get into it with one of the stodgiest pieces of English literature out there. She introduced new themes of colonialism and undermined Rochester as the Byronic hero. I don’t think anyone will read Barker’s text that way - Homer’s works and the Bible are so canonical that referencing or interacting with them feels like it doesn’t count as fan fiction (has anyone ever argued that Paradise Lost was fan fic?). Because Barker is a serious author with a Booker Prize on her shelf, they call TSOTG a ‘retelling’ rather than fan fic, but what is more fan fic than recounting a famous story from another character’s perspective? 

For reference: Stephanie Meyer has done this twice to her own novels. She retold Twilight from Edward’s POV in Midnight Sun and wrote a gender flipped version of Twilight called Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined. From Wikipedia, it seems like a pretty straight-forward find and replace job: Life and Death tells the story of 16 year old Beaufort Swan who moves from Arizona to Washington to live with his dad - on his first day at school, he meets the beautiful and mysterious Edythe Cullen... 

^^ It’s fun to laugh at Twilight but remember this: Bon Iver recorded a song for the soundtrack. The New Moon soundtrack also featured Death Cab for Cutie, Thom Yorke, Grizzly Bear and a bunch of other bands with legitimate indie credibility (Pitchfork still gave it a 5.4) - why did they agree to be on this soundtrack? They must be getting approached for this kind of work all the time and New Moon’s budget was not huge - only $50 million so it’s not like they would have been offering obscene cash. Probably a mystery for another time...

Most of Barker’s works deal with war in some capacity. The only other book of hers which I’ve read is Regeneration. In that book, Barker riffs on historical figures, places, events, and literary works as she explores the impacts of WWI on returning English soldiers suffering PTSD. There are a lot of complicated ideas moving around and bumping up against each other - it’s like she’s playing a 20 string guitar or jamming out on a 40 piece drum kit or something: she’s just super masterful and it’s a good read but also interesting to look at how she achieved it technically. It’s a super satisfying book to explore and think about and probably my favourite war book (maybe tied with Slaughterhouse 5).

In TSOTG, she’s still interested in war, but now she’s looking more closely at the impacts of war on women. In a way, TSOTG seems kind of blunt and stupid in its handling of war compared to Regeneration. Barker is so focused on proving that women had it bad during the war and trying to deromanticise the Greek warriors, that she depicts all the men (except Patroclus and Achilles) as childish brutes: they’re capricious and proud, they’re rough and inconsiderate, they take offence easily, they eat messily and they drink too much. We never see them in action on the battlefield, so the one thing they’re good at is hidden from us: we don’t get to admire their magnificence but when they die, the women make fun of their shriveled cocks. Of course, we see this through Briseis’ biased eyes (fair enough given her situation), but what she reports of their behaviour is pretty bleak. No one has a rich interiority: they just fuck, shit and fight. It seems like Barker’s argument is that the men must be assholes because they rape their slaves. But we know that’s not how it works: the men raped their slave women because that was the cultural norm but beyond the raping they were average guys. In fact, the raping and slaving made them average. Not heroes, not assholes. Just 1100BC guys.* 

(*This isn’t ‘boys will be boys’ - if anything it’s historical relativism. I’m not saying it’s average because they were guys, I’m saying it’s average because it was a long time ago. Remember, Jesus was a radical thinker with all his wacky ideas about compassion and love - and he was still more than a 1000 years away. The Greeks were very advanced in some ways, but their culture relied on slavery - at a point you need to accept that that was their normal (bad by our standards, yes) and engage with them on their own terms otherwise you’ll never get anywhere in a conversation about their values.)

Barker retells this astonishing passage from The Iliad about three quarters of the way through TSOTG - just to set it up, Achilles killed Prince Hector and has been desecrating his corpse (dragging it behind his chariot) as vengeance for the death of Patroclus (Achilles’ closest friend). In ancient Greece, it was believed that you couldn’t pass on to the underworld until you’d had a proper burial. Beyond being disrespectful, the abuse of Hector’s body torments his family because it means Hector cannot pass peacefully to the afterlife. Growing desperate, Hector’s father King Priam has snuck out of Troy and come to the Greek camp to beg Achilles to return Hector’s body:

Priam found the warrior there inside ... many captains sitting some way off, but two, veteran Automedon and the fine fighter Alcimus were busy serving him. He had just finished dinner, eating, drinking, and the table still stood near. The majestic king of Troy slipped past the rest and kneeling down beside Achilles, clasped his knees and kissed his hands, those terrible, man-killing hands that had slaughtered Priam's many sons in battle. Awesome - as when the grip of madness seizes one who murders a man in his own fatherland and flees abroad to foreign shores, to a wealthy, noble host, and a sense of marvel runs through all who see him so Achilles marveled, beholding majestic Priam. His men marveled too, trading startled glances. But Priam prayed his heart out to Achilles: "Remember your own father, great godlike Achilles - as old as I am, past the threshold of deadly old age! No doubt the countrymen round about him plague him now, with no one there to defend him, beat away disaster. No one - but at least he hears you're still alive and his old heart rejoices, hopes rising, day by day, to see his beloved son come sailing home from Troy. But l - dear god, my life so cursed by fate ... I fathered hero sons in the wide realm of Troy and now not a single one is left, I tell you. Fifty sons I had when the sons of Achaea came, nineteen born to me from a single mother's womb and the rest by other women in the palace. Many, most of them violent Ares cut the knees from under. But one, one was left me, to guard my walls, my people  the one you killed the other day, defending his fatherland, my Hector! It's all for him I've come to the ships now, to win him back from you - I bring a priceless ransom. Revere the gods, Achilles! Pity me in my own right, remember your own father! I deserve more pity ... I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before - I put to my lips the hands of the man who killed my son." Those words stirred within Achilles a deep desire to grieve for his own father. Taking the old man's hand he gently moved him back. And overpowered by memory both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely for man-killing Hector, throbbing, crouching before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, now for his father, now for Patroclus once again, and their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.

(Not sure about this translation but it’s the best I could find online)

So this scene plays out beat for beat in TSOTG, and it’s very moving and well done (well done by Homer originally - and Barker renders it well too), but Barker wants to make it about the women so in response to Priam’s famous line ‘I kiss the hands of the man who killed my son’, Briseis thinks: "And I do what countless women before me have been forced to do. I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers.” Is she an asshole for thinking about herself in this moment? I understand what Barker is trying to do: elevate the suffering of the women to the same platform that the men have always had. But this is graceless. It’s not a competition. 

Another element I found frustrating was the suggestion in TSOTG that the Greeks regarded Achilles’ close bond with Patroclus as unusual - characters are scornful of Achilles’ relationship with Patroclus and make snickering jokes about them being gay. This is disappointing because I am sure Barker did her research and therefore she must know that ancient Greece was probably more accepting of homosexuality (at least between men) than society is today. The only whisper of controversy around their relationship was the ancient equivalent of the ‘who’s the bottom?’ question: the Greeks would have been curious about who was dominant and who was passive, but wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow at Patroclus and Achilles being together.

Frank Miller also choose to make his ancient Greeks homophobic in 300 and Alan Moore, always happy to play the expert, was quick to point out the mistake:

There was just one particular line in it where one of the Spartan soldiers—I'll remind you, this is Spartans that we're talking about—one of them was talking disparagingly about the Athenians, and said, ‘Those boy-lovers.' You know, I mean, read a book, Frank. The Spartans were famous for something other than holding the bridge at Thermopylae, they were quite famous for actually enforcing man-boy love amongst the ranks as a way of military bonding. That specific example probably says more about Frank's grasp of history than it does about his grasp of homosexuality, so I'm not impugning his moral situation there. I'm not saying it was homophobic; just wasn't very well researched.

Anyone with even a passing knowledge of ancient Greece would be familiar with their permissive attitudes toward homosexuality. Why did she choose to do this? I know she’s not homophobic because Regeneration sensitively observed the suffering of gay men, for example that minor speech impediments (lisps, stutters) manifested in men who were repressing their homosexuality. I don’t understand this choice from a woman who wrote maybe the best war book of all time.

TSOTG wraps up with a reflection on memory and the stories people want to hear:

I thought: Suppose, suppose just once, once, in all these centuries, the slippery gods keep their word and Achilles is granted eternal glory in return for his early death under the walls of Troy...? What will they make of us, the people of those unimaginably distant times? One thing I do know: they won’t want the brutal reality of conquest and slavery. They won’t want to be told about the massacres of men and boys, the enslavement of women and girls. They won’t want to know we were living in a rape camp. No, they’ll go for something altogether softer. A love story, perhaps? I just hope they manage to work out who the lovers were. His story. His, not mine. It ends at his grave... Once, not so long ago, I tried to walk out of Achilles’ story - and failed. Now, my own story can begin.

Through the sickening dramatic irony, I can pick out three points Barker is trying to make:

Achilles looms large, but Briseis is her own person and deserves her own story

This is the untold true story of what really went down during the Trojan War - the people aren’t ready for this heat but I, Pat Barker, will bring it to them regardless

This isn’t a love story, but if it were, it would be the authoritative and definitive Trojan War love story

Point 1: Briseis deserves her own story

As I mentioned earlier, TSOTG begins in media res - meaning unlike in Troy, we don’t see what the gang was doing before the fighting kicked off, the catalysts of the war, the journey from Greece, etc. The action begins mid-way through the war, mid-way through a day, mid-way through a battle as our protagonist, mid-way through her life, peers over the parapets watching the Greeks disembowel her countrymen. So TSOTG begins as Achilles enters Briseis’ life and ends just as he leaves it - it begins in media res because no one would want to hear about her boring ass life before incandescent Achilles walked into it. Briseis is most interesting when she’s talking about Achilles, watching him from afar, describing their awkward encounters, analysing his behaviour - sure, the story is from Briseis’ perspective, but she’s always looking at Achilles. Is Barker arguing that we should care about Briseis outside of Achilles? She can’t have it both ways! She can’t complain that no one cares about anything but Achilles and then tell a story centered around Achilles, make Achilles the most interesting character and - in a particularly weird move - allow him to narrate some chapters in the second half of the book. 

Point 2: This is the grittiest telling of the Trojan War that readers have ever had to grit their teeth through

The suggestion that this is ‘the untold true story of the women of Troy’ is totally bogus - exploring what the Trojan War cost women has been done. Euripides wrote the The Trojan Women in ~415BC, some 600+ years after when the Trojan War is estimated to have taken place (if it took place at all). It’s a tragedy which focuses on the Trojan women (Hecuba, Andromache and co.) as they process the death of their husbands, and learn what their fate will be (i.e. which Greek they will be gifted to). As with TSOTG, the action happens off-stage, out of the women’s line of sight and is reported to them by men as they come and go from the stage. It is a relentlessly horrible play: the centerpiece is the murder of Hector’s baby son Astyanax (Odysseus throws him from the walls of Troy) and the women’s response to this terrible news. 

It seems like Barker also takes issue with modern narratives glossing over the rape, slaughter and slavery that occurred during the war - but even Troy (by no means an unromantic movie) makes these elements pretty explicit:

In the clip above, the Myrmidons have brought Achilles the newly enslaved Briseis in case he would like to rape her. The slavery and rape threat elements are there. Is Barker saying that she wants to see the rape? Does this scene somehow read as romantic because he chooses not to rape her? Rape is being used more and more, especially in TV, as a way of creating realism in fantasy shows - and people do seem to have an appetite for it (see: Game of Thrones, Outlander). So her suggestion that modern audiences want a sanitised version of the war doesn’t work for me. 

Point 3: This isn’t a love story. It’s about rape. But also... don’t you just love Achilles?

Quoting from Briseis’ final words again:

No, they’ll go for something altogether softer. A love story, perhaps? I just hope they manage to work out who the lovers were.

Sounds pointed. Barker is implying someone out there got the lovers wrong. It can’t be Troy because they went with the Achilles/Briseis angle too, so is she referring to Madeline Miller? Miller’s 2011 novel The Song of Achilles is a love story focused on Patroclus and Achilles (disclosure: I haven’t read it). As I mentioned earlier, Barker, going against all evidence we have about ancient Greece, chose to make her Greeks homophobic. She does touch on Achilles and Patroclus’ famous intimacy, but frames it more as some kind of preternatural closeness which goes beyond brothers or lovers. In Barker’s defence, Homer never explicitly said that Achilles and Patroclus were lovers, but the suggestion of it is certainly part of the canon. I had a high school Classics teacher who scoffed at Troy because she thought Achilles should have been banging Patroclus instead of Briseis. 

Also: since we’re talking about a ‘rape camp’, were there really many lovers?

For a feminist take on The Iliad, this book has some weird gender politics. Achilles rapes our protagonist - a lot. He’s childish, he has mummy issues, he’s abrasive and fussy - but we want Briseis to win him over! We want Achilles to notice her. He’s so magnetic, even if you write him as a spoiled pig, he’s still Achilles. He’s the coolest guy in school. He’s the rower with big shoulders. He wears his hat backwards. He comes to school on Monday with a black eye. He doesn’t know anything about computers. He says he likes Hemingway. He smells good without deodorant. His socks never stay up. If you walk beside him in a hallway, you can feel heat radiating from his body. His pouting and brattiness play into his magnetism somehow. I honestly think Barker might have fallen into the same trap as high school girls throughout history: we just love a bad boy. Want a glimpse into the terrifying mind of teenage girl? When I was 17, I dumped my high school boyfriend because he wasn’t enough like Achilles or Hector. People are romantic about the Trojan War, but that doesn’t mean they want a love story.