#mean and wrong and stupid to say. but the Entity Known As The Master is mostly another smaller entity- called a Person-

[cosmik-homo]

The thing with timelords is that yeahh theyre people but theyre also sort of complicated moving sculptures. or they all see themselves or function in some way as Projects as much as people. partially because doylistically, they... are.

[interdimensionalburnout]

>>It's been almost twelve hours. But you're not quite over the conversation you had with the master brain of the cyborgs you stole from. The great big entity had no qualms with your murders, on account of you returning their memory banks to the hive-mind. They would get new bodies, you were told, and be happier for the "final conversion." At that point, you wager the stolen teleporter vest would've been okay, too, but by the time you'd struck up a conversation, you'd already completely wiped the software and replaced it with a Partition, rendering it invisible to your host.

The great mind was quite... poetic, you thought; it spoke as if it was trying to dumb itself down to you, but instead it came across as a philosopher, rather than ANY kind of machine.

>>"You remember being older than your time in the game, I am sure." You very much didn't like getting that kind of a frank familiarity from a strange entity, and you're kind of STILL rubbed the wrong way by it. That thing knew you entirely too well, and you told him as much. "Your history is known to me, I AM a historian, am I not? You weave an uncertain penstroke across the the paper, turned inwards even as it spirals ever outwards; the hand is uncertain, the pen stumbles, the nib flings the same ink in a thousand directions. You are lost in the finished collage, as any one might be, yet under the magnifying glass, you leave a unique trail, the web of a spider."

>>You've known a fair share of self-confident computers, but this was the first time you've ever accused an AI of, "Bloviating, that's what this is," you said. "And a whole lot of words to say 'i will not tell you.' Well, fine, I guess. And yeah, I snuck into that, what of it, get to your point." You were situated at the same console you'd been hacking into the whole time, one hand pressed into the monitor for a more direct, but easily-disconnected, form of communication. And you were more or less white-knuckle clenching the soft bubble of the screen, ready to leave. You were -and are- SO tired of hearing about yourself, you feel selfish by virtue of being alive usually, so every asshole you run across for three days straight knowing you has kind of sucked to a breaking point.

>>"The point is not that you played the game, and gained from it a curse for your intrusion," You could swear he was being smug and mean when he said that, like the fucking emotionless historian AI was getting a dig in at you. "the point is that you are older than you initially recalled, and the scattered chronology of your memories, now fully freed from the storm you've weathered, are once again a uniform fleet." You asked if the fleet was supposed to tell you something, now that it was able to...

>>"...I dunno, coordinate?" The machine's answer was a long, low hum. The thing was considering the best way to answer you, and you just had the insane notion that you may be free of the green tears; not in a way you could even put your finger on, merely a sudden grounded feeling. When it did finally answer you, the answer was a simple question: What would you ask of yourself? That's when you kicked the console and started cussing, pacing two loops and triggering a sudden series of slams outside the door. Klaxon alarms blared, and suddenly went quiet, as the door behind you slid shut, preventing the cyborgs from intruding. After you had a second, you slapped your mechanical palm back to the monitor, and asked, "Is there a fucking Partition in there?"

>>"I will not tell you." The answer from the vast, ancient computer mind stole all the steam from your anger and you slumped backwards into the terminal chair behind you, laughing stupid-style, before slapping your hand onto the keyboard, reestablishing connection. You're no longer sure if you ARE being haunted or not. This shit's blurring the line between Partition and the nightmare hauntings (what with the malachite), you think, but you smiled, reminding yourself to just get used to it, wallowing in a minor serving of defeatism.

>>"Well alright, then, you won't answer the first thing I asked of myself, smug prick. So tell me, are you havin' fun in there?" The hum that flowed through your mind was one that was DEFINITELY smug, outwardly so. Like the AI mind of this complex was teasing you suddenly. You closed your eyes, leaned back in that chair, and asked a second question, too: "Diggin' around for lost history looks like fun to me, at least, but like, is the company good? They seemed kinda... buzzkillish." There'd been a warm feeling, just inside your sternum, that radiated through your chest and made you feel like your lungs had been shaking with laughter.

>>"It's alright, actually, yeah." The voice that responded to you that time... well, it sounded the same in your mind: metallic, wavering, but the tone almost perfectly mirrored your own. "Maybe you'll do it differently? Maybe you'll figure out something else."

>>"Who knows," you both said, in tandem, in the same voice. The moment gave you pause, as if you'd heard your own voice twice, out-loud. When you opened your eyes, your senses were assailed with new surroundings. The sky burns blue-white overhead, sea-salt air and pine-sap fill your nostrils. You've been here for a few hours now, wondering if it sucks that you have to be your own support network like this, or if you should consider yourself lucky.

[the-last-cuddlebender]

I straight up check your profile daily for the southern raiders analysis you’re working on. 👀👀 where IS IT 😩

bRUH I am so excited to drop this analysis you have no idea (It’s creeping up to 22k+ I am gonna cryyyyyyyyyyyy). The only problem is that my TSR analysis and “Moon theory” are so incredibly hard to structure and articulate. I’m happy you’re so excited for it, though!!! Truly, it’s an honor. I’ll give you a taste of my madness and what’s to come, but be warned: it may be a bit hard to follow because TSR (from how I’ve come to understand it) is about the vagueness of beginnings, endings, and cycles, so there isn’t really a starting point for me to begin with. (So it may seem a tad bit like a ramble in some points that I haven’t fleshed out yet/am summarizing for this ask)

This analysis has me on trails like THIS brilliant nonsense, and I am 1000000000% here for it:

Roku: “The spirit's name is Koh, but he is very dangerous. They call him The Face Stealer.”

Katara: “We’re going to find the man who took my mother from me.”...“That’s him. That’s the monster.”

Lion Turtle: “To bend another's energy, your own spirit must be unbendable, or you will be corrupted and destroyed.”

Roku: “When you speak with him, you must be very careful to show no emotion at all. Not the slightest expression, or he will steal your face.”

Hama: “Congratulations, Katara. You’re a bloodbender.”

(If Katara had killed Yon Rha, she would be giving up her identity--her face. Not only would she have become a killer, but she would be killing what made her Katara)

Aang: “Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

Forgive him--approach him for what he is, not the faces your memories or your heart are having him wear. See him for the pathetic man he is in that moment right in front of you.

Aang’s forgiveness is seeing someone for the sum of their parts. It’s judging them and seeing through into their very soul, just like the Firebending Masters saw through Zuko being the Crown Prince and Aang being the Avatar. That meant nothing to the Masters. What did matter to them was who the boys were right there, right then, right in front of them.

“Why should I hold a grudge against you for something you did in a past life? After all, you’re a different person, now. You’ve come to me with a new face.”

But anyways...

If I can give no other take-away from my analysis and moon theory, it’s that Yin and Yang are not two entities; they are three. I think the fandom’s misunderstanding of it may be why the discourse on TSR (and Aang, Katara, and Zuko) is so black and white (pun intended lol). 

“But Yin and Yang are obviously two things. Don’t you know the symbol?” I hear some people already saying.

Wrong, sir.

It has never been just Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang have never existed as just two things.

They are Yin and Yang and Wu Wei.

(Aunt Wu has her name for a reason, and she has the mark of the wise in her hair for a reason, too...AND she is at odds with Sokka in The Fortuneteller for a reason, too!!!...but that’s for the analysis😉)

Balance isn’t good triumphing over evil. Balance is good and evil. Balance is standing on the flow between two opposites--it’s the compliment that connects them. (The koi fish live in an oasis for a reason.)

I’ll explain what Wu Wei is later in the full analysis (like many things in here), but here’s some of my evidences and proofs for the “Yin Yang trio”:

The Tibetan “Wheel of Dharma”

(I’ll also explain the Wheel and Dharma and etc. later because it has everything to do with Koh and the moon) Long story short, the wheel and its spokes are representative of the 8 steps to enlightenment and the cycle of rebirth. 

Look at the hub of the wheel. It’s a swirl made of 3 parts.

It is also a white lotus

Here’s the colored version of the wheel (as an alter):

Recognize the colors?

BLUE, WHITE (or gold, depending), & RED

These are the “THREE TREASURES” OR JEWELS.

They symbolize DHARMA, BUDDHA, & SANGHA respectively. 

KATARA, AANG, & ZUKO

water, air, & fire

T H R E E

Bato: “Ice dodging is a ceremonial test of wisdom, bravery, and trust.

Bato: “The spirits of water bear witness to these marks...”

Why does Bato say spirit(s) plural? The Ocean and the Moon are only two spirits. The Ocean can’t be two things. Right?

WRONG

Yue: “The legends say the Moon was the first waterbender. Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves.”

The Moon--singular. The Tides--plural (push and pull)

Lion Turtle: “In the era before the Avatar, we bent not the elements, but the energy within our senses.”

The moon pushing and pulling the tide is the moon bending the energy of its world. 

Katara finding balance between “being too weak to do it” or “strong enough not to” is her bending the energy within herself.

It’s two solutions written as a question but said as a statement.

Yue: “Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves”

THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS IS ABOUT AANG AND ZUKO LEARNING FROM KATARA. Katara had already learned from Aang and Zuko all leading up to TSR. That was her studying. TSR was her test.

TSR is Zuko’s and Aang’s studying. Sozin’s Comet is their test.

Bato: “For Sokka, the Mark of the Wise. The same mark your father earned. For Katara, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us. And for Aang, the Mark of the Trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe.”

Aang - Wise (”you’re pretty wise for a kid”)

Katara - Brave (the same mark her mother earned)

Zuko - Trusted (”I was the first person to trust you”)

Sokka - Bato ("I am to have no part in this--you pass or fail on your own.”)

Yin and Yang are nothing without their dance. The Avatar and the Firelord mean nothing if they don’t have a world to rebuild.

The valley means nothing if there isn’t anyone to live in it.

Fighting is useless if there isn’t someone to fight for, otherwise it is “selfish and stupid”

Katara had to have a reason to return from Yon Rha. She needed to have Aang waiting for her. If she didn’t have a reason to stay, then she wouldn’t have a reason to go.

To have a reason to sleep, a person has to have a reason to wake up.

Katara: “Aang. He just took his glider and disappeared. He has this ridiculous notion that he has to save the world alone; that it's all his responsibility.”

Hakoda: “Maybe that's his way of being brave.”

(Bato: “For Katara, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us.”)

Katara: “It's not brave! It's selfish and stupid! We could be helping him! And I know the world needs him, but doesn't he know how much we need him, too? How can he just leave us behind?!”

(It was, in fact, not easy for Aang to ‘do nothing’)

Katara: “I understand why you left. I really do, and I know that you had to go, so why do I still feel this way? I'm so sad and angry...and hurt.”

Hakoda: “I love you more than anything. You and your brother are my entire world. I thought about you every day when I was gone, and every night when I went to sleep, I would lie awake missing you so much it would ache.”

(AND YUE IS ONE OF THE ONES TO SAVE AANG IN THE OCEAN FOR A REASON)

Thinking and missing: a matter of mind (who) and heart (want). 

Iroh: “Who are you? And what do you want?”

Sokka: “We need to go back. I wanna see Dad, but helping Aang is where we're needed the most.”

Mai: “I love Zuko more than I fear you.”

BUT YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT THE MOON FOR A HOT SECOND???

I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT THE MOON

I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT 2 MOONS

OH

OH REALLY???

OH REALLY, ZUKO

A FEW HOURS YOU SAY?

THEN TELL ME, ZUKO

WHY IS THE SUN GOING UP

WHEN IT IS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT A FEW HOURS LATER

AND KATARA IS SLEEPING SO YOU CAN’T TELL ME IT’S BECAUSE YOU RISE WITH THE SUN OTHERWISE SHE’D BE WIDE AWAKE DURING THE FULL MOON THAT SHE USES TO BLOODBEND NOT EVEN TWO MINUTES LATER

THIS, MY FRIENDS, IS A HARVEST MOON

WHICH IS THE LAST FULL MOON OF THE SUMMER 

(and looks off color when it rises/falls because of the angle of the rise/fall in the atmosphere...it’s normal once overhead)

AND SYMOLIZES HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF

“We’re going to find the MAN who took my mother from me.”

“That’s him. That’s the MONSTER.”

8 spokes on the wheel

Katara was 8 when Kya was killed

8 steps to enlightenment (the “Eightfold Path”)

8 phases of the moon

8 faces of Koh

“One of your previous incarnations tried to slay me! Be it 8 or 9 hundred years ago” (but time is an illusion, so hundreds mean nothing)

THE OTHER TWO MOONS THAT ARE CONSUMING MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT???:

1.) The WOLF MOON--the first full moon of the new year (a love between the wolf and the moon in the harshest winters...connection is kindof obvious lmao)

2.) THE THUNDER MOON

The Thunder Moon is the full moon of July. It is also known as the Buck Moon--for when young buck regrow their antlers.

Yue: “My hair turned white.”

Zuko: *cuts and re-grows his hair*

Aang: “I have hair?”

The Thunder Moon--the full moon of July--is also the beginning of a certain Buddhist holiday.

DHARMA DAY

WHICH CELEBRATES THE BEGINING OF BUDDHISM AND THE FIRST OF THE 8 STEPS (the first spoke of the Dharma Wheel) TOWARDS ENLIGHTENMENT

AVATAR IS ALL ABOUT CYCLES

THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS IS ALL ABOUT BREAKING THEM

I haven’t even touched Jung, Koh, Hinduism, and Buddhism yet

or the fact that Katara and Kya are the only characters in the entire series to wear moons on their clothing and that, together, they form an actual lunar phenomenon

or why the spirit oasis isn’t a complete circle

or the fact that this thing that Aang is told to chase is just like Whaletail Island:

or how important the Great Divide and the Solstice are

AND I’M JUST GETTING STARTED

BECAUSE EVERYTHING IN THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS--RIGHT DOWN TO THE SOUND DESIGN--IS ABSOLUTELY MONUMENTAL IN UNDERSTANDING THE SHOW, ITS MESSAGE, ENERGYBENDING, AND LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE

TLDR: Idk how the heck I’m going to arrange or articulate this analysis because it is WILD. Be warned: There is literally no exact beginning and ending to this analysis because the whole point of Yin and Yang is that is has no beginning or ending (...kindof...), so you’ll have to bear with me once I’m done editing it into something that’s somewhat coherent.

These are just SOME of the things I’ve been able to answer with my moon theory and analysis of The Southern Raiders as it currently stands:

Why “letting go” isn’t really letting go (as we understand it...see: Aang’s confrontation with Koh)

Why Lake Laogai and the Spirit World are symbolically the same thing.

Zuko’s advice to the bullfrog is actually a summary of the show, energybending, the origin of bending, and the definition of Aang’s “forgiveness” I stg

Why “Sokka’s instincts” are the reason Katara yells at Sokka

Believe it or not, every time Katara mentions her mother, it is at specific times for specific reasons.

^^^same thing for the moon, lack of moon, moon positioning, etc.

Katara’s mother’s necklace is more important than we realize.

Who the faces of Koh are and WHY they are there.

The true meaning of Jet’s sacrifice.

Why Jet’s episode about the dam explains the entirety of TSR as it pertains to Katara (all the way down to the little girl who runs to get her doll after the dam breaks)

Why Katara actually DID forgive Yon Rha, and the fact that she doesn’t even know it is proof that she did

^^^^^Aang’s definition of forgiveness is completely misunderstood by the fandom, and the way he “forgives” is sososo much deeper than “moving on”, and it is DEFINATELY by no means “doing  nothing” or “excusing” past actions.

The importance of lightning, Zuko, Aang, and Katara.

The absolutely monumental and not nearly talked about importance of Jeong-Jeong like holy crap.

How Katara and Azula are just as much of a Yin and Yang as Zuko and Aang but not in the way we think they are

Why Koh has the Blue Spirit’s face

Why Koh DOESN’T have the Painted Lady’s face.

Who Ni-Ni from Katara’s campfire story in The Puppetmaster is 

How and why Iroh was able to learn firebending from the Masters even though he didn’t have a partner. 

How/Why Azula had her breakdown and why she saw her mother in the mirror

Why “Leaves from the Vine” and “Four Seasons” are the same song, explain Azula’s downfall, and explain the Yin and Yang of TSR.

Why Katara and Sokka are so often mistaken for parental figures.

Why Aang’s flashbacks to the Air Nomads are so important in understanding TSR.

Why Toph and Suki disappear after the campfire in TSR.

How Hakoda, Gyatso, and Kya are all connected.

Why it is so dang important that Azula shows up in the beginning of TSR.

The importance of the Spirit Oasis.

Energybending, healing with waterbending, Aang’s trauma, and Zuko’s scar.

Why Zuko gives Katara the exact opposite advise in TSR that he gave her in the catacombs. 

How everything could be predicted and read by the moon.

WHY YIN AND YANG ARE THREE THINGS AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THREE THINGS.

HOW ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL OF THIS TIES BACK TO THE MOON AND BUDDHIST BELIEFS--AND YEAH THE MOON AND BUDDHISM AND HINDUISM ARE MORE CONNECTED IN ATLA THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE.

AND HOW IT LEADS INTO OUR MODERN UNDERSTANDING OF THE SELF--BECAUSE JUNG TOOK GREAT INFLUENCE IN HIS DEVELOPING THEORY OF THE CONSCIOUS AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS FROM THE HINDU/BUDDHIST RELIGIONS 

^^^^AND ALSO THE THEORY OF THE SHADOW AND THE PERSONA 

The ocean is a deep, dark, unknown place with a lot of hidden monsters (like Yon Rah). Katara needed a light to find her monster, but she also needed somewhere she could breathe when she came back up for air.

If she didn’t have both Zuko and Aang, Katara would have drowned. 

I wasn’t kidding when I said this was a thesis, and what I’ve said and listed here isn’t even all that I have.

btw This all does line up on the traditional Yin Yang symbol we know and see in the show, but I don’t have enough space here for that lmao. That’ll be in the analysis

I hope you enjoyed this little taste, my friend, because I need to sit down for a hot second before my brain leaks out of my ears. Sorry for the ramble. I promise the analysis isn’t like this lol. This is just me trying to summarize as best as I can. 

***Disclaimer: My points are always subject to change since I am still researching. These are the facts as I’ve found and applied them to the evidences I’ve noted from in the show. I’m always open for friendly discussion or any directions to better sources on Buddhism/Tao/Jung!***

[heliads]

Of Sorcerers and Spiderwebs Chapter Four: Hopeless

Y/N L/N is a Master of the Mystic Arts, trained by Doctor Strange himself. When she first meets Peter Parker as they fight side by side against Thanos, she isn’t expecting for their brief partnership to blossom into a love that could last a lifetime.

previous / series masterlist / next

After realizing that you’re in love with Peter Parker, it feels even harder to drag yourself out of bed to head to school the next morning. Even the sight of him walking towards you from across the crowded hallways of Midtown hurts- you know that no matter how close the two of you become, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend.

In fact, just the simple act of seeing him confirms that you truly love him. You’re not sure how you didn’t realize it before, but it’s glaringly obvious now. When the two of you are paired together for some partner activity in class, you’re able to laugh and smile with him as if you’ve known him your entire life. 

That’s the easiest thing about Peter- with him, you’re able to just live and be whoever you want to be. There aren’t any expectations with him- no rules or assumptions or anything. He doesn’t presume you to be anything more than yourself. You’re not sure anyone’s made you feel like that in a long time.

However, things aren’t exactly perfect. Now that you’re actually paying attention to how you feel about Peter, you’re also noticing how Peter feels about other people. Specifically, how he feels about one of his closest friends, MJ. Case in point: whatever’s going on with them during this exact lunch one sunny afternoon at Midtown.

Although technically there are four of you at the lunch table, Peter’s clearly centered around MJ and MJ alone. He’s sitting next to her, leaning over to face her in a way that shuts out everything else around him. They’re engaged in some deep conversation about the ethics of neuroscience, something that you happen to know a lot about thanks to Stephen and that you could easily debate along with them. However, you already tried to enter the conversation and were talked over more than a few times, so you’ve given that up.

You can’t exactly blame Peter for being wrapped up in MJ. She’s practically perfect for him- she supports him being Spider-Man, she knows enough about his favorite topics to have discussions like the one they’re having now, and they both have the perfect blend of shy and talkative that makes them equals. The only problem is that she’s not you.

The worst part is that Peter is clearly in love with her. Here’s the thing- nobody looks at a girl the way Peter is looking at MJ right now, with that stupid soft smile on his face as she talks and that unnameable expression his eyes, without being in love. You suppose that’s why it hurts you so much to see him. It shouldn’t, of course, Peter’s known MJ for far longer than he’s known you and you just arrived at Midtown a few months ago. Yet your heart still feels a painful twinge every time you glance their way.

“You good, Y/N?”

You’re broken out of your trance when Ned speaks to you. Blinking once to clear your head, you turn to him. “Yeah, I’m just, uh, considering my plans for the future. I’ve heard about this really cool opportunity within the different international Sanctums to go out in search of people who could potentially become Masters of the Mystic Arts to monitor them and offer aid if they need it.”

What you’re talking about isn’t a lie- you have heard about this program, and it’s been simmering away in the back of your mind for quite some time. You had assumed that you weren’t going to act on it, as your life was going very well over in New York, but for once you might be convinced to move away as a nomad for the sorcerers.

Ned looks impressed. “That does sound cool. So you’d basically get to vacation around the world in the name of the Sanctums?” You incline your head, confirming his words. “That’s the thing- it sounds amazing. The only thing is, I’d have to apply and I don’t know if they’ll let me in or not. And, even if they do let me in, I’m just wondering if I would be able to leave all of this behind. It feels like I just got here.”

Ned nods. “I mean, I don’t really know what to tell you. Wizards-I mean, sorcerers, kind of have a priority of coolness over everything else. I guess you just have to ask yourself what you’d be giving up by leaving, and if you think the pros of the trip would outweigh the cons.”

You look at him, somewhat surprised. “That’s actually really good advice. Thanks, Ned.” The boy smiles. “Hey, if I can’t be a superhero I can at least give out super-good talks.” The two of you dissolve in laughter, but your smile fades slightly when you realize Peter hasn’t even heard you at all. Would he care if you left?

The next day, you slump down into your seat at the lunch table with a glower that could rival the stormy weather outside. Ned raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. “Well, I didn’t think you could look even more depressed than yesterday, but I guess I was wrong. What, did Sorcerers Worldwide not let you into their program?”

You point a finger at him in agreement. “I showed up and asked if I could go through with their program. I showed them everything I could do, which is more than the average adult at the Sanctum. Even with that, they still won’t let me go. They kept saying something about how I should be finishing school before I go traipsing around the globe. That doesn’t even make sense- they pulled me out of my freshman and sophomore years so they could train me at Kamar-Taj, why is it not okay now?”

Across the table from you, Peter looks stunned. “Wait, what do you mean? You were going to leave Midtown for some errand of the sorcerers?” You nod, staring up at the ceiling bleakly. “It was going to be so cool, too. But no, I have to wait until I’m out of high school or college or whenever they run out of excuses.”

Peter leans forward, and you realize for the first time that he actually seems cross, almost hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you liked it here.” You can’t help but feel defensive at his questioning. “I did. Yesterday, at lunch. I talked about it right here. I guess you weren't paying attention. Besides, I do like Midtown, but are you telling me you’d rather go to high school than travel the world?”

Peter scoffs. “Yeah, it would be fun to leave for a vacation or a weekend trip. You just got here, do you really not care about all of us enough to leave it all behind for some jaunt around the world?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why are you so upset? I just said that I wouldn’t be going anyway. And besides, I do care about everyone here, which is why I talked about the possibility of me going on this trip yesterday to all of you. I suppose you just weren’t listening.”

Peter’s opening his mouth, presumably to deliver a no doubt intense remark, but Ned places his hands in between the two of you, interrupting him. “You know what, I think what Peter means is that we’d all be sad to see you go, Y/N. We’re sorry that you didn’t get into your program, but at least you still have us, right?”

You tilt your head towards Ned, pointedly ignoring Peter. “Thank you, Ned. I absolutely agree. Midtown is, and will always be, an amazing school with amazing people and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.” You and Ned continue to have a conversation in the same forced calm voices, and eventually Peter joins in. MJ arrives later, and joins in the chatter as well, although she does raise her eyebrows at the tension clearly brewing between you and Peter.

When lunch ends, the four of you are heading back to your classroom when you suddenly stop moving. Your friends stop as well, looking back at you in confusion. “Everything alright, Y/N?” MJ asks, but you just shake your head fervently. “Everything is very much not alright. It’s like I can sense something strange in the school. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t human and it isn’t going away.”

Your friends walk back up to you. “Can you tell us anything else about it?” Ned questions. You try and latch onto the sudden feeling, but you can’t sense anything else. “I think I’m going to have to use my astral form to check it out. Can you make sure nobody notices what I’m doing?” Your friends nod their assent, and huddle up around you to hide you from view. If anyone happens to walk by, they’ll just see a group of students clustered around a locker.

You fling your shoulders back, closing your eyes and opening them once more to find yourself in your astral form, glowing and weightless just like normal. As you head off down the hallway in search of whatever malevolent entity is creeping around the school, you glance once over your shoulder and can’t help but feel slightly better when you notice that Peter is the first one to reach out and catch you, despite everything that just happened.

Brushing away thoughts of Peter and the concern clearly written across his face at the thought of you heading into danger, you continue on down the hallways. You quickly check classrooms and halls of lockers, and you notice that the strange feeling of darkness is emanating from a room down a few flights of stairs. The basement. 

Of course it had to be the basement, the darkest, coldest, most formidable place in the whole school. Why couldn’t creepy things just hide in plain sight for once? Why the basement? You shudder briefly, then force yourself down through the floor until you’re standing just outside the basement door. You step forward, walking through the door, and suppress a silent scream when you see what’s inside.

When you suddenly jerk back to life in Peter’s arms, your friends look at you with startled eyes. “What is it? What did you see?” All you can do is clasp on to Peter, who’s still holding you tight. “Something is coming. Something bad.”

tag list: @dude-were-getting-the-band-back​ @xroselights​ @idiotic--punk​

[ashtheshortstack]

seeking the truth - part 2

Rating: T Fandom: Danny Phantom

Part 2: false positive

Tags: Valerie POV, Post D-Stabilized, Pre-PP, Sorta Reveal Fic

Read on ao3

Part 3

Danny Phantom was only half ghost. Which meant all this time she’d been hunting down a human. Not a fully ectoplasmic entity. Valerie’s stomach churned. Phantom didn’t elaborate much after she’d figured him out. She just gave a weak apology and left. He didn’t stop her. 

Phantom’s identity wasn’t her busy. She wouldn’t ask or pry. If he was keeping it a secret then there clearly had to be a reason. Maybe his family… maybe he was protecting someone or something. Why else would he not publicly announce to Amity Park that their ghost hero was actually a human too? 

Valerie needed more information. She needed to understand the dynamics between Vlad and Phantom. Clearly, Phantom knew a lot of details about Vlad, including when he became a “halfa.” 

When Vlad paged her, Valerie felt her heart plummet into her gut. She had to play this carefully. Vlad was a smart man. If she gave him even a whiff of deceit, he’d pick up on it. And her ghost hunting days would be over. Her father would have her served on a platter and she’d never leave her room again. Ground for eternity. 

  Valerie arrived in the window of Vlad’s mansion as usual. Her heart pounded, but her brain reminded her to play it cool. To act as she always did. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Yes, Mayor Masters?” she asked coolly, remaining calm. 

“Ah, Valerie, there you are. I think we should have a talk about the little incident that occurred the other evening,” he said with his falsely charmed grin. 

Valerie nodded, taking a seat across from his desk. “Yes sir, what would you like to discuss?” 

“Well, I’m sure the existence of half-ghosts was quite a shock to you.” 

She snorted at that. “Yeah, I’ll say. I’m sorry to go against your orders, sir, but it didn’t seem right to hurt that girl.” 

“Oh, I understand completely, child. If I had known of her true nature, I certainly wouldn’t have ordered you to destroy her. I seemed to have gotten her confused with another ghost.” 

Right. As if. Valerie knew better now than to believe the bull spewing out of Vlad Master’s lips. It was so stupid that she’d been fooled all of this time. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what did Plasmius want with Danielle?” 

Vlad seemed taken aback by the question. His sinister smirk fell, eyebrows raising. “Why, it seemed he wanted to melt her down and study her remains.” 

“How can he do that if she’s human? I understand her ghost-half being unstable like Phantom said, but a human shouldn’t melt like that, should they?” 

Vlad seemed to ponder his response, stroking his chin. “Well, from what I heard… Danielle is a clone.” 

Now, that was news. 

“A clone?” 

“Yes, an imperfect clone.” 

Imperfect? There wasn’t anything wrong with Danielle… unless the person she was supposed to be a clone of was a boy. A boy older than her. Oh… That made sense. Phantom said Vlad was obsessed with him and wanted him to be his son. 

“A clone of Danny Phantom?” she asked. 

Vlad smirked. “Ah, I knew you were a bright girl, Valerie. Yes, Danielle is a clone of Danny Phantom. She isn’t supposed to exist as she is.” 

Valerie held her tongue. There was nothing wrong with Danielle. She didn’t ask to be created by a psychopath like Vlad Masters. She wasn’t a mistake or an imperfection. She was fine just as she was. Especially now that Phantom had stabilized her. 

“So, that means Danny Phantom is also a half-ghost, right?” 

“I don’t know for sure, but it would definitely seem like that’s the case.” 

Valerie dared to ask her next question. “How do you know all of this, Mayor Masters?” 

“I overheard Plasmius while in the closet. Quite the wicked ghost, that one.” 

She almost rolled her eyes at the sound of him tooting his own horn. “Well, if Phantom is a half-ghost then he’s more dangerous than I thought.” 

Vlad seemed a bit stunned at her words. “Yes, very dangerous indeed.” 

“He could be anywhere and we wouldn’t even know it, right? I’ll have to find out who his human half is so I can hunt him down.” 

The mayor seemed to like the sound of that. “Yes, very good idea, my dear. The safety of Amity Park is in your hands.” 

Valerie stood. “You have my word, Mayor Masters, protecting Amity Park is my top priority.” 

And she meant it. Even if it meant protecting the city from their own mayor.

[thecardsimagine]

A Falling Angel's Last Case

Summary: A story of a doting guardian angel, who learned to love and pity the dying human he was watching over.

Characters: Julian Devorak, Susanne Bauer (Fanapprentice) Other appearances: Portia Devorak, Susanne’s family, various villagers

Genre: Angst, Alternative Universe, Rating: Mature Warnings: Mention of death, Mention of Blood, Mention of Body Horror (growing wings), Hints towards violent acts

**IMPORTANT INFORMATION**

This is an homage to @jyuukichannart ‘s Angel!AU. Thank you so much for creating the AU! As spiritualist this AU means everything to me, and I was looking into it for other projects of mine already, though this gave me a chance to apply it to my sweeties Susanne & Julian too!

Angel Disease (Tenshibyou) is a fictional disease NOT created by me! I found this post on twitter and it inspired me to write this story! (It’s a very interesting read!)

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾

A/N: These damn 13 pages really washed out my eyes and gave me a real good cry about them. I hope you guys will like it just as much as I did! Please don’t cry too much if you do!

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾

Julian knew she was dying. From the moment he met her, he knew her days were accounted for, and it made him look at her differently than he ever looked at his protegees before her. Angels always managed to keep themselves at a certain distance to human emotions, but they were no monsters. Even formidable guardians, like Julian was, knew how happiness could leave bubbles in one's stomach, and sadness burned in one's eyes. He could feel anger if someone acted against better judgment, and he could feel compassion for someone's grief.

But until he met Susanne, he never knew what pity was.

However she managed to attract such an awful disease, something so vile and ugly, even his feathers turned upwards at the thought of it, was a mystery to him. When she was handed to him as a case to clear, his superior said it would be easy and quick. An efficient, straightforward work, that's all it was supposed to be. But as he began to dig deeper through her file, Julian gulped, feeling as if a stone just bashed into his stomach.

"Diagnosis: Angel Disease", her file read, and Julian's eyes widened in surprise. 

It was a name too pretty for something so deadly and unholy as it was. Against the better belief, it didn't turn a human - the species that commonly attracted it - into a being as beautiful as Julian and his peers were. No, it didn't even turn them into anything remarkable like a living being, it just slowly consumed its host until the human no longer had the strength to withstand the callings of death. Julian could be happy to not have experienced a case before where one of his fosterlings had to live through this. Even in the endless flow of time, it was something rare for guardians to encounter, but it wasn't something he had never heard about before either.

Setting out the same day he got his new case, Julian remembered Portia seeing him off, asking him to not do anything stupid as she knew her brother was prone to. He promised her. He promised he'd take good care of himself, return home immediately once the job was done, and also not bring back any delicacies from the human world. She gave his side a playful punch for this, telling him she expected at least cake as compensation. Laughing, he gave her his usual smile and waved into her direction as he flew off. After all, if he wanted to honor the promise of coming back, he needed to be gone first, right?

Had he known he wouldn't make it back in the same way that he left in, maybe he wouldn't have left that day at all. Perhaps, he'd stayed with Portia, refused the job and gotten some cleaning duties for his refusal. But would it have been the same? Would the experience he made, be worth not making, just for the sake of staying as the same angel he was then?

With the blood on his hand, Julian wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure if what he did was wrong or right, bad or good. Not even his feathers turning colors from the soft, creamy white to ashen, pitch-black helped him understand the extent of what he did. All he knew was that she was still breathing, cradled in his arms, and smeared with the mixture of her own blood and the one of an angel, but she was alive.

Who could tell him he made a mistake if he did everything he could to save the person entrusted to him?

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾ 

Susanne's life expectance, as noted in her life file, was chipper 27 years. People died early in the age Julian currently worked in. There were many things like catastrophes, illness, the occasional war taking place. Humans always found a way to shorten their life expectancy to the bare minimum for the sake of exploring and satisfying their hunger for knowledge and power. Julian had seen it all, tended to all those souls who eventually lost their mortal shells, and guided them back to where they belonged.

Still, considering that her life was mostly blessed, except for the occasional cold, she could have lived a lot longer than that, Julian noted in his first report back to the realm. It must have happened somewhere in her twenties that she attracted what would be her doom, and now it was his job to look out and not have an evil befall her already lost soul. Devils and demons alike inched closer to souls they felt were doomed already, trying to gain as much from the humans as possible. It would be Julian's protection that would keep Susanne from making a deal with those entities, even if she would not be able to return to a greater cause as other humans did in the end. What befell her was going to destroy and drain her life force from inside out, and it was Julian's duty to make sure it could not spread once it had achieved what it wanted from her.

Angel's couldn't kill. Yes, it would have been mercy not to let her suffer any longer, but it was out of any angel's hand to do so. Much less, because at least for the last few moments of her life, Susanne was doomed to become what a mortal should never try to turn into - an angel. Neither their souls nor bodies were able to maintain something as great as the power that came from being one, so with their dying breaths, they'd taste it before completely disappearing from the universe. 

However, killing another angel was deemed the worst crime one could do, just like ripping out another angel's wings. For angels to even consider doing these acts, there must have been an immense amount of disconnecting from their original beings prior to the act, and they would be punished harder than anyone else, considering they doomed two entities for all eternity.

Despite it all, Julian was surprised to see that between her attracting the Angel Disease and her now presumed death laid years. Perhaps, the first year of her illness could have gone unnoticed by the Watchers; angels, who studied the humans day and day out. There must have been a certain amount of time before the higher-ups grew suspicious of the change in her soul and started to surveil her. Otherwise, someone else would have already been doing Julian's job - for a long time nonetheless. From what he knew from his academy years, the disease was a devastating momentum and unavoidably deathly for humans. An old, fallen entity had brought it over the humans under the protection of the rulers of the world, in the entity's last wish to wreak havoc. Luckily it could be mostly contained with only spurts of outbreaks. But for a human to carry it for such a long time without succumbing to it, that certainly was an extraordinary deed to fulfill. Julian would have lied to say he had high expectations of this job; however, his curiosity grew about his new protegee, her being so different from all his jobs before.

And Susanne did not disappoint. 

From the moment he landed in the calm, small village she called her home, to when he'd leave it again, Susanne would be the first and the last thing his eyes caught onto. A ray of sunshine beneath what seemed like a body that could do no wrong, that's what she was. A person to like, someone to cherish, to keep around for fun times and exciting conversations. A human not worthy of dying just because some old god decided he wanted to punish his own peers.

Being a guardian angel could be tedious at times. A human only got assigned a guardian for a reason and said guardian had to follow their everyday lives until the moment they were sent for came around. It wasn't always a pretty job and not always just 'giving divine advice' to their human. Sometimes it was making sure the human wasn't dying before their inevitable end, sometimes it was making sure they got a push in the right direction and keeping evils away from their valuable souls. 

Sometimes it was making sure a walking tragedy wasn't followed by another one, like it was in Susanne's case.

Susanne was a wonderful human, Julian decided after only one day. He described her as "good and diligent" in the report. In one day, he saw her help the people in her village, interact with creatures and humans alike in a tender way, and she even had the fortitude to try and knit a scarf, despite failing and giving up eventually. Julian saw many people giving up when the end of their days came closer, but she was almost too busy to seem struck by a disease. At that time, he still wondered if she was aware about slowly dying, but he found out about it soon enough.

In the middle of the night, Julian watched as she fell out of bed, coughing up bits of blood. What he presumed were feathers from her pillow and blanket, turned out to come from her insides, and by the time she was finished, she looked as if she had just seen hell and decided to come back for a little while longer. She didn't sleep for the rest of the night. Instead, she managed to knit the scarf after hours of doing her best to master the art, handing it to her little sister first thing in the morning. 

Julian understood the gesture, even though the tiny human that her sister still was, probably didn't. If anything, the present was something Susanne would be remembered by even though Susanne knew that by the time her sister would use it in the cold winter days, she'd be long gone.

He couldn't be sure if she knew what she was dying off, but Julian believed it might be better for her to just think it was an illness coming from the lungs or stomach, instead of knowing it was something as awful as the Angel Disease. She didn't need to know something that would throw her into misery if she was aware.

The following day was spent the same as the day before. She was a diligent lass, getting up early to take care of her siblings and help her mother in the kitchen before going out to see to the animals with her father. Two more times did she have those episodes of coughing up blood and feathers before it was time to return home for lunch. No matter how long she had endured the disease, she was dying now, and it grew worse as time passed on mercilessly. 

Every day he experienced with her was like the one before, except, Susanne never gave up. She'd come up with something new every morning, like baking pies, riding a cow, going fishing with her younger siblings. Even on the days, Julian watched her barely able to get out of bed after another sleepless night, she would eventually be carried out of sheets by her father or mother, who couldn't watch their eldest daughter wither away, and who would nurture her again to give her back her strength to face the rest of the day.

Two weeks after his arrival, Julian noticed that everyone was aware. The old ladies who she carried the groceries for and who gave her candy as thanks. The baker who always gave her the biggest loaf of the day when she came to buy bread, and even the bards made an effort to raise their tunes to accommodate her smile. It was when he began to wonder if they did all these nice things because they felt for her, wanted to give her some good last moments on earth, or thank her for helping and doing her best despite the circumstances. From the way they talked about her behind her back once she was gone, however, Julian learned it was very different from that. All of them looked at her just as 'the one dying', even if she did her best to be alive. 

They pitied her, and his heart too began to throb in sympathy to their feelings.

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾ 

The thing about writing reports back to his superiors was that if he didn't write about something in it, there was a good - not absolute, just good - chance they would never find out about it. He was no newbie to bending his rules and practices, after all, certain situations called for certain measurements. Still, he was pretty sure that taking on a human form and meeting his protegee was not something that his realm looked kindly upon. However, only observing, never interacting, didn't make Julian any wiser.

So clad in a humble shirt and trousers, donned by a jacket and cape, Julian visited the village on the back of a hay cart. Many people lifted their eyes on the beautiful, young traveler, but they were undoubtedly skeptical about his intentions as he just strolled into town without a care in the world.

"Pretty," he noted, nodding towards the sun setting on the horizon.

"Yup!" Susanne chimed, proudly even. "That's why it's my favorite place in the whole wide world!"

Her fingers weaved through the grass around her, picking on all the tiny flowers that she needed for her flower crown. Susanne was everything he expected from watching her. Kind, helpful, sweet. Though he had been frowned upon by the villagers - apparently, strangers had a hard time connecting in tight-knit communities - Susanne didn't waste a breath to introduce herself as he caught his eyes. How long would he stay? Was he just traveling through? Did he have a bed for the night?

"Do you want to see something pretty?" she had asked him after a million other questions which Julian all too happily answered, enjoying their conversation more than just the simple his observation of her. They ended up on the sheep pasture, up the hill, watching the sunset. Hadn't he known about her health, she would even be able to hide it very well, but her curt excuses to go somewhere didn't stay unnoticed by him after all. 

"Whole wide world, huh?" he mused, letting his eyes shift from her face to her hands, watching her lace the flowers together. "But you haven't seen the whole world yet, how can you be so sure?"

With a contemplating hum, Susanne took her time to answer his question, finishing the task in her hands before she had a reply to Julian's curiosity. He wasn't afraid to ask her these questions. In fact, he didn't even mind waiting for the answer, almost seeking it out. Though they officially only knew each other since that morning, it felt almost as if she was a friend he had known forever. Someone was easy to talk to and comfortable with him around too. They spoke freely to each other, without anything holding either of them back. "Even if I'd get to see the whole wide world, this is where I feel most at peace. I think it would still be my favorite place, even if I saw it all," she laughed, holding out the flower crown towards him. 

Julian smiled back, leaning down so she could put the crown on his hand. Her smile seemed to widen even more as the countless flowers decorated his head, blending in surprisingly well with the deep shade of red of his hair. It was addicting to see her so happy, even about something so simple as the crown she made on a stranger's head. But despite that brief moment of happiness, for the first time, they must have had the same thought, as Susanne's smile faltered, and she turned back forward, muttering quietly, "It's too bad I'll never get to see anything beyond this hill."

Biting his lip, he followed her gaze, watching as the sun gave away the space for the night sky, slowly leaving behind a row of mountains in the far distance. It really was unfortunate, he thought to himself, feeling almost as if the sunset was taunting him. After all, he had the knowledge that not many more sunrises would follow for her after this one.

Knowing more definitely was more painful, he decided, almost relieved that Susanne still seemed entirely unaware of how fast her time was approaching.

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾ 

The thing with angel wings was that they were attached by the shoulder blades. Once there, they never disappeared, if not removed. But trained angels could hide them if they wanted to, though they were never gone entirely. Humans couldn't see them; humans couldn't see what they didn't believe in. And someone looking human with wings wasn't exactly what they thought about on the daily. That was the reason they also missed Susanne's first pair of wings when they started to grow.

It was time, Julian knew. His 'job' was taking longer than it should already. Susanne was just that kind of girl. Persistent. Resistant. Her coughs brought her to her knees, but she stood up again afterwards, struggling for air. The wings were still there when he left her to change into his humanoid form, but when he collected her from her home, they were gone. They had been so small, barely noticeable, consisting of just a bump in her skin and feathers growing from it, but they had been there. Probably subconsciously, she must have scratched them away, plucked the feathers. Still, she could barely hide that her back hurt, he noticed that as they spent the day together.

There were whispers in the town that the good-looking stranger had taken a liking to the farmer's daughter. That he'd take her away, show her the world. If only those people had known the truth, and how right, yet, wrong their assumptions were. 

Indeed, he had come to like her. Appreciate her. Admire her. 

Had she been an angel like him, he was sure she would have been a nurturing soul or a beloved guardian. There was no bad thing Julian could say about her, and he didn't want it any other way. She may have had her faults too, but they were human, spiked with a growing dissatisfaction that came from her condition. But he could forgive her for them. 

That evening, she wouldn't roll in the grass with him. For the first time, she just sat there, staring towards the horizon, thinking. Julian had a lot to say, and share with her, but he couldn't bring it over him to open his mouth. "Do you think about death sometimes?" she asked him, nonchalantly, as he watched the stars above.

"Mhm, occasional." It wasn't a lie, yet, his situation couldn't be explained to her. Death was just another part of a routine for him, just a fact like humans having five fingers on each hand. "How about you?"

"Yeah," she muttered, probably without thinking too much about it. His eyes fell onto the back of her head, which was turned to him, as he propped himself up on his elbows to see above the grass. "Do you want to talk about it?" Julian asked her, and without hesitation, Susanne shook her head.

"No. Better not."

She turned to him, but for the first time that he had known her, her smile wasn't sincere. A farce, put up to not having to go through something that was too painful to talk about. He gave her an understanding nod before lying down again, staring back into the sky, feeling a weird, icky feeling in his chest. It felt oppressive, weighing it down. It almost hurt. But despite Julian fighting his own feelings, Susanne caught herself again, looking back forward once more and taking a deep breath. She was endlessly strong, despite feeling the sand trickling through her hourglass of life faster now. And Julian so admired her for it, knowing there was nothing good coming out of her death.

"Do you believe in angels?" he asked, and Susanne nodded. "I do. Do you?"

Julian couldn't help but smile at her prompt answer. Sincere, honest, trusting - but not naive. His hand brushed through the grass towards hers, with which she held her balance on the ground. And with his fingers dancing over her knuckles, it felt almost bearable again. The whole oppressive feeling seemed to lift as Susanne turned her hand over to accept his fingers in her palm, lacing hers into his. 

"Now I do."

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾ 

Julian had seen a few funerals already. Depending on the tradition, they varied, but at least someone was always left feeling sad. It hurt that this time, it was the person to be mourned over later. Susanne had to welcome people of her family, traveling to her farm to see her one last time as they feared her passing every day from now on. She stopped leaving the farm, so the village came to her. Some greeted him, gave him their condolences as if he was part of the family already. Others, he didn't even know existed before, and they couldn't care less about the unusual taciturn red-head standing close by.

In his report the night before, Julian had written about the village. About how, despite not knowing what she had attracted, they knew that something was soon going to change in their community. Of how the angels might have underestimated how much humans can perceive even without all the heightened senses, immense knowledge, and interesting gimmicks that angels had at their disposal. It was the first time he ever uttered something close to a critic to the ways of his life. Almost as if he was angry about something, Julian wasn't even aware of.

Quite the opposite to him, Susanne was remarkably calm. For someone withering in pain, screaming her lungs out as she tried to touch the open wounds on her back, she was so quiet now, smiling as she exchanged her final words with everyone. None of them noticed the - by now third - pair of wings on her back still. None of them, except for maybe her little siblings, which spend a good portion of the day sending weird looks at her back and wondering what the fuss was all about.

One after the other greeted her, patted her shoulders, thanked her for all she had done, and helped around the village. And Susanne returned their thanks, asked them to do good in her stead. They said they'd pray for her, hope she could ascend to a more meaningful place and left with tears in their eyes. 

All throughout the day, Susanne's father was not home. Whether he couldn't stand the parade of goodbye's or put his head into work to forget about his daughter dying, Julian wasn't sure. But her mother did well in keeping the three little children busy with having them serve the guest sandwiches and milk, while she received a good portion of condolences herself, which she took with a smile and a sincere 'Thank you!'. She was almost as strong as she gave herself in front of the people, but she still cried whenever she went back into the kitchen to prepare more food.

Last to leave was the village priest. Where Julian hadn't been sure if the village knew about the disease, he had it almost confirmed that the priest did. So everyone knowing the news and being so aware might as well have come from a devoted priest. Perhaps, he even recognized Julian, but aside from a soft bow, they didn't have any interaction. "My Child, no matter what awaits you, make sure you receive it with open arms," he told her, and Susanne nodded, even if she might not have understood it's meaning yet.

From all the funerals Julian had ever seen, he found this one unbearable. And it only got worse, when her father finally arrived back home, putting away a dirty shovel before anyone else but Julian could see. Everything was prepared. They only lacked a corpse to bury, but at least for that day, Susanne lived.

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾ 

"I'm sorry," she whispered into the darkness. She couldn't have known if Julian slept or was still awake, but she still said it, presumably, not even wanting to be heard. But it wasn't like he needed sleep, nor could sleep, so he replied to her in the same whispering manner, not wanting to wake anyone up. "For what?" Julian asked, and she shrugged, only visible to his eyes.

"This all." A deep sigh fell off her lips, though she didn't cry. What she felt was regret, yet not sadness. "I am sure you didn't come here to make a friend who's dying… Probably didn't come here to make a friend at all."

Julian kept silent as he thought about his option. No matter what, he couldn't reveal his true nature and intentions, even if by now, he felt like she would have deserved it. "No, but I don't regret it."

It was the first time that her hand searched for his. Like a child searching for its parent's comfort as she closed the distance between the two of them. If it had been any other circumstance, this would have been highly inappropriate, starting with Julian sneaking into her room at night. But not in this case. Not when she laid in his arms shivering, hot tears wetting his shirt, sobs muttered into his shoulders. You couldn't tell a person her behavior was inappropriate when she knew that it didn't matter anymore. She wouldn't be there the next morning to get scolded for it. 

≿————-————-   ❈ ————-————-≾ 

That night, it was tranquil around the hill up the sheep pasture. 

No cicadas outside, no sound coming from the stables. The town laid in complete darkness, which was not surprising, considering it was late into the night. People sleeping peacefully had a serenity to it that Julian found quite relaxing, but not this time. This time it felt like they were hiding from the death that hung over their heads, ignoring that it came to reap what was rightfully Death's.

But the full moon illuminated their path, even if it couldn't keep Susanne from stumbling after Julian, who led her by her hand. More than once did she lose her balance, only able to remain standing because he held her up, urging her to take another step and another one. The monstrosity that were her wings fell off her back, pulsating as they grew feather after feather. They had no proportions, no form. A few were bigger than the others, and she had to drag them over the ground, as they weren't well-fitted to her body at all. Standing in all directions, they almost took her over, and it was a struggle to even stand up straight for her.

He knew better than to call them a spawn of evil, but damn, did they look like it. Julian never believed he had seen it all, but it wasn't a sight he ever thought he wanted to see. And the worst thing about them was the color. They were the purest white. A white so mesmerizing and beautiful, only the highest-ranking angels could achieve it. It was blinding and elegant, while the wings itself were disgusting in their own way, taunting the what could have been.

In a matter of hours, her one pair had turned into three. She went from the lowest rank to highest between the wingbearers, and it grew worse by the second. Susanne couldn't move them, couldn't shift. She could only hug herself with her free arm, hoping to gain some stability from it, though it was an effort in vain. The immense pain must have begun numbing the feeling of growing more feathers, more wings, otherwise, she could have never made it even one step out of her bed. Yet, she still persisted in going 'there'. The place that made her the happiest in the whole wide world.

When they finally reached it, Julian had carried her the last hundred steps to the top. Her legs had started to lose their strength, breaking in under the additional weight of the six uneven wings. No angel could fly with those, even if Susanne tried to make the impossible possible. As careful as he could, he set her down into the grass, already flat from the countless times she had sat in it. Her breathing was ragged as if she had just run a marathon, but Julian was no better. Still, he had done everything to fulfill her last wish, no matter what. 

He watched her shoulders lift and lower again as she tried to breathe, brushing some strands of hair behind her ear so she could see better again. There was no other possibility than to lay her on her chest, so her view was already decreased, but at least at him, she could still look. "Julian," she croaked, her arm sorely lifting from the ground and up to him. He bowed down to her, so she could touch his cheek, thumb wiping away a tear on his face.

For the first time, he found himself in a state of tears. Helpless, fragile. It wasn't like his heart could burst from frustration and pain, but whatever the feeling was he was experiencing, it was unlike any he had before. He had known it from the start, he knew she was dying, so why now. Why was he pitying her death now?

Why did it hurt so much? Why was it so damn painful to let her go?

Was it because he knew she wouldn't return? That there was no way he'd ever get to meet her again, despite her not recognizing him even if she would have been able to begin a new cycle of life? Was it because she was such a remarkable person, one that deserved more than what was given to her? How was it fair that he had to watch over so many people do bad things and learn from them and redeem themselves, but her life would completely perish any minute now? What was he even doing watching her die?

Or was it because he caught feelings for her, feelings that no angel should harbor for just one human soul?

"Julian," she called out to him again, grunting under the pain while her wings started to pull at her body, ready to break free of the useless shell that had hosted them. He looked at her with a vision so blurry, he couldn't even discern her features anymore, but her words made him flinch and blink the tears away to look down at himself. 

"Julian, look at you. You're beautiful," Susanne mumbled, and it was then that he knew it was over for her. In the reflection of her eyes, he could see himself. See his own wings. If she could see his celestial form, see how he truly looked behind the human mask he wore for her, then she was already in her last moments of life, only now able to see what others couldn't. "I think, I know now," she sobbed, eyes widening as the power of an angel overtook her. At least for a second, she'd understand what was going on, realize what overcame her. A treat for a dying soul. "And, I am grateful."

"Grateful," he laughed, but it wasn't a sound of happiness. "You're grateful for those wings that are killing you?"

"Yes." 

Her answer surprised him, and he shook his head in disbelieve. "Because they allowed me to meet you."

More tears collected in his eyes as Julian couldn't help himself from feeling another new emotion dwelling in his stomach. As admirable as her thinking was, Julian couldn't see eye to eye with her. He clutched on to her hand, breathing heavily, unable to even cry anymore. "I am not grateful," he admitted. "I hate them, Susanne. I really do."

Her brows furrowed as she let out a pained groan. "Julian, don't ---"

"I hate them so much, you deserve none of this. You deserve to live and laugh. You deserve to… to see the world and to fall in love, and all they do- They--"

All they do is kill you! was what he wanted to say, but he couldn't speak these words out loud even if they were nothing but the truth. Instead, he cowered closer to her head as he cupped her face gently in his hands. "I can't let them do this, Susanne," he whispered and closed his eyes, unable to bear to look at her as she sobbed louder. There were many emotions mixed in the cries she let out. Feelings of pain, of sadness. But also self-pity and mourning.

It was the most selfish she would ever be, but he knew she didn't want to die either as she clutched his hand tightly. She couldn't have know what consequences this thinking would have, all she was in the very end, was human. And Julian? Julian didn't think about what would happen afterwards as his fingers wrapped around the first wing rooting from her back, apologizing to her with a last kiss to her forehead before he started to pull.

He didn't acknowledge his actions until he was done. Like in a frenzy, it was all hazy to him, but all he knew was that the blood on his hands wasn't his, and the body in his arms wasn't dead. Weak, destroyed, and unconscious, yes, but not dead. With the last bit of his power, he managed one last miracle, closing the six open holes in her back one after another that would have endangered her well-being had they stayed open. It was hard to, but he ignored the wings that laid all around the two of them, occasionally flinching but broken by his own hands. With them, he had taken out that damn disease that sprouted them in the first place.

As his own wings grew ashen, he ignored the pain in his back, burning him like hellfire, branding, and announcing the end of an angel. Instead, he focused on her warmth in his arms, Susanne's body slowly filling back with life that his miracle gave her. Julian knew he didn't need to cry anymore, as he had accomplished an unspeakable dead. He had saved what shouldn't have been saved. 

And for once, he really felt like a guardian angel.

Finally, he felt like he did something right. His previous jobs had always left him with more questions than answers and other angels telling him to forget rather than investigate what else he could have done differently. He felt like he actually made an impact with those mediocre abilities of his, no matter the cost, and he realized there and then how dissatisfying his life had been up to this point, just fulfilling the inevitable. In the end, he wasn't just good for divine advice and gentle pushes into the right direction, he really did something that would leave a remarkable impact.

Kissing her forehead for the final time, Julian knew that from the trauma of having her wings ripped out one after the other, she probably wouldn't remember him. It wouldn't need more magic, the loss of a disease that had eaten away on her would surely make her forget. But it was worth it. Even if she never knew what happened, Susanne would be fine, he was sure. 

He left her there, on the sheep pasture, needing a few tries before he could distance himself. Even though he was bursting of happiness, he could barely contain himself, knowing he had to leave her now, for better or for worse. Secretly, he wished to not be forgotten by her, but Julian decided it was better this way for their both's sake. 

Collecting the broken wings, he was almost in love with how soft they felt. They were her wings, at least for a moment, she became the angel he always saw in her. And in contrast to his black ones, her's shone even brighter in the light of the sun as the day slowly began. Ironic, he thought, that only know he was able to see the sunrise too. The same sunrise, he thought Susanne wouldn't survive to see. 

The wind changed as Julian lifted himself into the air. For as long as possible did he look down at his protegee, safely sleeping beneath him, until he was too far away, the clouds hiding her from him as he had to face upwards, seeing the brigade that was sent out after his realm received the message of her 'passing' and his Falling. They were only the prettiest angels, clad in golden armor, with their spears in their hand, looking at him with the equivalent of pity that an angel could feel. But they would never see his reasons, and they could never experience the feelings he did. That was the real pity in the situation. His peers would never know these extraordinary feelings of sadness, determination, and happiness for all of their eternal life. At least not to the extend that Julian was allowed to experience them. And he pitied them for it.

They'd also never have wings as pretty as Susanne's, which he handed over with only a brief moment of hesitation, knowing he was in no position to refuse anything they ordered. His hands, ankles, wings were shackled before the count of three, and four strong guards carried him away, back home, where he belonged. But at least once more did he manage to look down on earth, through a crack in the clouds, seeing Susanne, surrounded by her family who had followed the wind he had sent them with his wings. 

Below him, she awoke, tears spilling from her eyes the moment she opened them, and loud sobs falling from her mouth. Confused, shaken, but so loved by the people around her, Susanne struggled to understand what was happening, feeling as if something big had just happened that she just didn't seem to recall. For the most part of her awakening, she could only cry, feeling as if she just lost something very important to her. 

Julian lost a lot on this day. His job, his status, his belonging under his own peers. But he also lost a friend, a love, just luckily, not to Death. Susanne, too, lost someone unknown to her that day, but she also won the fight against an incurable disease like no one ever before had. She lost her wings, but never her will to fly.

But at least one thing was left for her to commend these happenings, and she clutched the single, black feather in her hands as if her life depended on it, even though she didn't even remember who it belonged to.

[libertariantaoist]

America's abundance was not created by public sacrifices to the common good, but by the productive genius of free men who pursued their own personal interests and the making of their own private fortunes.

Do not consider Collectivists as "sincere but deluded idealists". The proposal to enslave some men for the sake of others is not an ideal; brutality is not "idealistic," no matter what its purpose. Do not ever say that the desire to "do good" by force is a good motive. Neither power-lust nor stupidity are good motives.

I am interested in politics so that one day I will not have to be interested in politics.

There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible to live without breaking laws.

Either we believe that the State exists to serve the individual or the individual exists to serve the State. -from Letters of Ayn Rand

Racism negates two aspects of man’s life: reason and choice, or mind and morality, replacing them with chemical predestination. ... A genius is a genius, regardless of the number of morons who belong to the same race -- and a moron is a moron, regardless of the number of geniuses who share his racial origin.

The government was set to protect man from criminals, and the Constitution was written to protect man from the government.

The man who produces while others dispose of his product is a slave.

A society that robs an individual of the product of his effort - is not strictly speaking a society, but a mob held together by institutionalized gang violence.

The only proper purpose of a government is to protect man's rights, which means: to protect him from physical violence.

The smallest minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities.

The government's only proper job is to protect individual rights against violence by force or fraud - to protect men from foreign invaders - to settle disputes among men according to objective laws - The greatness of the Founding Fathers was how well they understood this issue and how close some of them came to understanding it perfectly.

The Constitution is a limitation on the government, not on private individuals. It does not prescribe the conduct of private individuals, only the conduct of the government. It is not a charter for government power, but a charter of the citizens' protection against the government.

The meaning ascribed in popular usage to the word 'selfishness' is not merely wrong: it represents a devastating intellectual 'package-deal,' which is responsible, more than any other single factor, for the arrested moral development of mankind.

Statism survives by looting; a free country survives by production.

What is the basic, the essential, the crucial principle that differentiates freedom from slavery? It is the principle of voluntary action versus physical coercion or compulsion.

Every movement that seeks to enslave a country, every dictatorship or potential dictatorship, needs some minority group as a scapegoat which it can blame for the nation's troubles and use as a justification of its own demand for dictatorial powers. In Soviet Russia, the scapegoat was the bourgeoisie; in Nazi Germany, it was the Jewish people; in America, it is the businessmen.

If workers struggle for higher wages, this is hailed as "social gains", if businessmen struggle for higher profits, this is damned as "selfish greed".

It is a free market that makes monopolies impossible.

Since there is no such entity as "the public," since the public is merely a number of individuals, the idea that "the public interest" supersedes private interests and rights can have but one meaning: that the interests and rights of some individuals take precedence over the interests and rights of others.

Every coercive monopoly was created by government intervention into the economy: by special privileges, such as franchises or subsidies, which closed the entry of competitors into a given field, by legislative action.

It stands to reason that where there's sacrifice, there's someone collecting sacrificial offerings. Where there's service, there's someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters. And intends to be the master.

The degree of a country's freedom is the degree of its prosperity.

There is no difference between communism and socialism, except in the means of achieving the same ultimate end: communism proposes to enslave men by force, socialism -- by vote. It is merely the difference between murder and suicide.

Capitalism has created the highest standard of living ever known on earth. The evidence is incontrovertible. The contrast between West and East Berlin is the latest demonstration, like a laboratory experiment for all to see. Yet those who are loudest in proclaiming their desire to eliminate poverty are loudest in denouncing capitalism. Man's well-being is not their goal.

Read More

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

My thoughts on Infinity War and Spider-Man’s role within it.

Yeah obviously SPOILERS

tl:dr version: It’s great but there are some problems, mostly in regards to it as an adaptation but there are some problems even taken on it’s own. Spider-Man’s better than he was in Homecoming but there are still fundamentally broken aspects to his character

Longer version:

Brolin and Saldana’s performances were utterly stellar. Like everyone did a great job but they were on another level. The Thanos/Gamora relationship was just perfect, closely followed by Wanda and Vision’s romance (WHY won’t Marvel just let them be together again in the comics!).

 The action was also just great with my personal favourite being Captain America and his team’s first appearance.

 I don’t think the action scenes were up there with the best stuff from Avengers Assemble or Civil War, but there was nothing wrong with it...well....except maybe one thing but I’ll get there in a minute.

 The Russo’s also, much like in Civil War and as Whedon did with both prior Avengers films, performed a master class in balancing out a truly MASSIVE amount of characters.

 Yes some characters got a lot more play and focus than others (Iron Man edged out Captain America, small wonder since this movie was kind of celebrating the 10th anniversary of his movie) but the amount of play each character got felt appropriate to the story being told. Like T’Challa wasn’t as focussed upon and didn’t really have a big moment in comparison to Iron Man but then again Iron Man was the guy who literally had PTSD due to the Battle of New York and that was Thanos’ fault. Also it’s appropriate given how Thanos was originally an Iron Man villain.

 There was also plenty of laugh out loud moments, especially when it came to the Guardians. In fact credit to the Russo’s they did a wonderful job of keeping the Guardians consistent with Gunn’s portrayals of them.

 Now...that cannot be said of every character. Tony Stark I felt was consistent with their take on him from Civil War but along with that movie’s rendition of him leant more towards the serious side of things than Whedon’s portrayals of him or his characterization in his solo trilogy.

But I also do not regard that as a bad thing. One of my frustrations with the MCU, especially in Phase 3 has been that they don’t take things seriously enough and undermine the characters and drama with too much humour at times.

 This is the root of my profoundly mixed feelings on Thor: Ragnarok. It IS hilarious. It’s funny and fun. But also extremely inconsistent with the other Thor films and to be blunt a downright insulting portrayal of the rich almost Lord of the Rings level high fantasy world of the Asgardians. Thor is far from devoid of humour of course but primarily he’s a high fantasy noble warrior and that’s tonally played straight. So when you have him bumbling around or facing off against Jeff Goldblum playing a character practically designed to be an internet meme it’s really going against the spirit of the character.

 As far as I am concerned MCU Thor, whilst likable enough in his own right, has yet to really nail the character. However Infinity War at least course corrected this somewhat following Ragnarok. Infinity War’s Thor is still comedic but he is also somewhat tortured and a real bad ass at various moments. However the price of this was essentially entirely undermining Ragnarok’s ending. It reads as though the Russo’s were blowing a raspberry at Waititi, much as Rian Johnson’s Last Jedi did to Abrams’ Force Awakens movie. I’m less upset about it though because all the Asgardians I gave a damn about were casually killed off in Ragnarok anyway and that movie screwed over Thor’s mythos anyway.

 I’m hoping this clean slate approach could maybe lead to a second attempt at getting Thor right but I dunno if that’s likely.

 Another character who was treated with more respect and was just over all more on point than in their solo movie was Doctor Strange.

 THIS was the Doctor Strange we were promised in his 2016 movie. The MASTER of the Mystic Arts and the dude in CHARGE of the magical stuff on Earth. Along with his absolute lack of slapstick bullshit this more competent portrayal of Doctor Strange was an infinitely better reflection of the classic Ditko character than his own movie.

 Finally as I touched on above Thanos himself needs to be lauded. He is easily one of the three best MCu villains ever. Loki, Killmonger and him compete for the top spot. His motivation is interesting unto itself and in a perverse way even sympathetic. His character has actual layers (not to the level of other great comic book villains admittedly but they exist) and in a very real sense this is HIS movie moreso than anyone else.

 Okay that’s all the good stuff that comes to mind...what about the stuff I didn’t like.

 Well whilst the humour was more finely balanced with everything else in this movie in comparison to say Ragnarok (which was a comedic action movie, not an action movie with comedic moments in it) or the slapstick bullshit that was Homecoming and Doctor Strange, there was still a little too much in there at least for me.

 I laughed for sure but it still felt a bit too ‘this is a Marvel movie so we need to have humour moments because that’s part of our brand don’t ya know!’. In particular Wong and Doctor Strange mentioning talking about ice cream in the middle of the discussion about Thanos’ impending invasion of Earth was way too far. Even if it wasn’t specifically Doctor Strange in that scene it was just stupid that we needed to cram a joke like that in a scene that realistically shouldn’t be there.

 Another of the admittedly few problems with the movie was that the Infinity Stones’ abilities were rather vaguely defined. Like...what exactly DOES the power stone do? What are the limits of the Time Stone? Because in Doctor Strange it seemed to be able to turn back all of time but in this movie Wanda kills Vision by destroying his Infinity Stone and then Thanos beats her up. He proceeds to reverse time so HE can get Vision’s stone but Wanda remains beaten. So...can he localize the effects of the Time Stone...apparently.

 This becomes kind of a plot hole considering a major point of the movie was his need to kill Gamora in order to attain the Soul Stone. But if he can reverse Time...why couldn’t he just go back in time and save her?

 Things get even more screwy because the Reality Stone enables him to apparently WARP reality. At first it seems like he can just cast convincing illusions. But no...he literally turns Drax into stone and makes Star-Lord’s gun shoot bubbles.

 He can warp reality.

 But if he can do that...why does he need the other Stones at all? Why is Gamora’s death a big deal because he could just warp reality in order to bring her back couldn’t he? Hell why did he struggle at all in ANY of his battles with the Avengers/Guardians?

 I’m not saying there is no way to explain this stuff (e.g. that he needs a certain degree of concentration to maintain his alterations to reality) but the movie needs to GIVE them to us.

 My final bone of contention would be the changes to Thanos’ character. I’m no Thanos expert but even I know the character’s drive is his romantic feelings for Death. If you didn’t know in the Marvel Universe Death is literally a sentient Cosmic entity that can adopt various forms, most commonly that of a woman.

That is how Thanos sees her and he is literally in love with her. He kills people to please her. THAT is the reason he is known as Thanos the MAD Titan.

In this movie though his motivation is to kill half of the universe’s population because the universe only has a finite amount of resources thus less people, the more people can live happily off those resources.

Like I said it’s an interesting and in a warped way sympathetic motivation.

He doesn’t hate anyone, he isn’t evil he has looked at the problem and come up with a coldly pragmatic solution...Kinda...

I guess you could just handwave this on him being so deranged as to honestly commit to murdering half of everyone alive but when you think about it his plan doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

I mean for starters killing half of everyone is a temporary solution at best. Once upon a time there were less people alive then there are today so those numbers will go BACK up given time?

Was his plan to just keep the numbers down whenever they get too big?

Secondly if his argument is that resources are finite so there needs to be less people in order to consume those resources well...that doesn’t really fix the problem. Because those finite resources are still going to be consumed, it will just take twice as long.

And what about places for whom those resources are already mostly depleted so the half who have survived can’t make that much use of them anyway?

How about those planets that are actually SO over populated that their resources are still not enough to support even half the population?

Then you have the fact that if Thanos can warp reality to the point where clicking his fingers kills half of everyone in the universe couldn’t he just snap his fingers and DOUBLE the resources for everyone?

Couldn’t he just create like more planets with more resources and more space for everyone?

See the ‘half of everyone alive are gone’ thing IS directly from the original Infinity Gauntlet storyline but in that story it didn’t raise these questions because the entire reason he killed half of everyone was because he was trying to impress Death.

I know, I know. The movie’s motivation is an easier concept to grasp and easier to sell to a mass audience than ‘Death literally looks like a woman to him and he wants to make sweet love with her’.

At the same time...it’s SUCH a bold and strong idea that it’s honestly far more original and striking than the motive this movie gave him.

More importantly though in removing that motive they kind of...eviscerated the foundation of Thanos.

Like if you are doing an adaptation of Thanos the ONE thing you need to do is have him be in love with Death.

That is literally the thing his whole character revolves around.

To not do that is to essentially just do an uber powerful purple alien who can take down whole hordes of super heroes and has the trappings of Thanos.

Like I said I like the move and I liked Thanos in it but at the same time it was a really bad portrayal of him.

Speaking of which...

Let’s talk Spider-Man

...Sigh...god dammit...

Look not much new to say.

Spider-Man in this movie much like his other MCU appearances is defined by his youth and his relationship to Stark.

The character can be summed up as ‘the young inexperienced kid hero who’s a pseudo son to Tony Stark’.

THAT is who MCU Peter Parker is.

That is also fundamentally NOTHING like who Peter Parker is!

How badly did they lean on this take on him though?

They leaned on this take on him so badly that Doctor Strange LITERALLY asked if he was Tony Stark’s ward. The film makers LITERALLY referenced how they’ve turned Spider-Man into a pseudo Robin to Iron Man’s Batman.

They also had Spidey cry and wimper at the prospect of dying.

This is something I’m conflicted over.

On the one hand if Spider-Man is the everyman, the hero who could be you, his ability to feel fear, especially over his own demise, should make such an portrayal of him permissible right?

Well...yes and no.

First of all the overwhelming majority of the time whenever Spider-Man truly believes himself to be facing what seems to be inevitable death he’s NOT acted that way. In ASM #40 he was at the mercy of the Goblin and even stated he wasn’t afraid to die. YES he was older than MCu Spider-Man but he was 19 vs 15. It’s not that big of a difference frankly.

But okay even if we ignore that we have Ultimate Peter Parker, whom MCU Spidey is clearly more based upon than the 616 version, definitely NOT acting that way during the Death of Spider-man story arc.

But honestly I think my problem with the scene (apart from him dying in Stark’s arms to further beat you over the head with the fact that he is Tony’s ‘son’) was kind of my problem with Superman murdering Zod in Man of Steel.

It’s not that you can’t have that happen but it’s when you are having it happen.

In Man of Steel it was an origin movie and the first movie to establish that version of Superman.

What this means is that we needed to see Clark become Superman but also have Superman be as definitively Superman and do the usual Superman stuff as much as possible. This is also why the Dawn of Justice version of Batman didn’t work. You can say it’s Batman at the end of his rope all you want but that doesn’t mean anything if we haven’t seen what Batman is NORMALLY like.

You need to establish the default setting for the characters, what their typical personalities are like and then you can push the envelope with stuff like that.

With Spider-Man because they’ve leant so hard on the ‘HE’S YOUNG’ thing and had him cry and whimper in Homecoming’s climax as well as this movie’s climax (which are 2 of his 3 appearances so far) it’s served to push that this is part of the ‘default’ setting for MCU Spider-Man.

MCU Spider-Man cries and whimpers as a child would. Which is not something that’s wrong  to do with Spider-Man’s character especially in context of these movies...but it IS wrong to do them at such significant moments so early in his existence to the point where it is essentially the default setting.

Spider-Man does not TYPICALLY act that way but MCU Spider-Man now DOES. It also undermines Homecoming’s climax as wasn’t that moment supposed to show Peter growing beyond that?

Hell as the trailer revealed he becomes an Avenger in this movie the very thing he REJECTED as part of his character arc at the end of Homecoming. WTF?

One some positive notes though he was not AS bad as he was in Homecoming, he had a clever plan at one point, was a FAR more competent fighter than in his own movie and the Iron Spider Suit’s inclusion surprisingly didn’t undermine the ending of Homecoming. I and everyone else suspected he would go against his decision at the end of Homecoming and accept the new suit Stark made for him in light of Thanos’ threat. But what actually happened was that Stark essentially forced him into the suit to save his life. And whilst that again undermines Spidey by making him Tony’s child, it at least avoids invalidating his rejection of the suit in Homecoming.

Over all I give the movie a solid A as a movie and like a solid B as an adaptation...except for the Spider-Man parts. Fuck those they get a D.

P.S. I feel my inner nerd needs to point out that this movie as an adaptation is actually a fusion (to varying degrees) of mostly FOUR different stories.

It takes the name from the Infinity War storyline but (much like Age of Ultron) the name is the only thing it really takes.

As most people know the movie is based upon the 1990s crossover event (back when those were less common and usually less atrociously awful) Infinity Gauntlet.

However since a significant chunk of the movie is spent upon Thanos’ acquisition of the infinity stones the movie is actually also a (very, very loose) adaptation of the Thanos Quest storyline which was the lead in story to Infinity Gauntlet.

It also took a not insignificant amount of inspiration from Jonathan Hickman’s Infinity storyline, which was Marvel’s annual event story for 2013.

At the time it’s likely that story was done to merely capitalize upon Thanos’ tease from the post-credits scene in Avengers Assemble the previous year.

Now though I’m wondering if it might have been used to generate prototype concepts for the Infinity War movie to play with.

Thanos invading Wakanda is straight out of Infinity as are (unless I am mistaken) ALL of Thanos’ henchmen. Proxima Midnight, Black Maw, Supergiant, Korvus Glaive, his foot soldiers. They’re all specifically from that story. Also fun fact I essentially had to skim that entire event for my first day and my new job in 2016.

Obviously there are other little aspects taken from other Marvel stories too, like the new Spider suit is inspired by the Iron Spider suit that originally had nothing to do with any given Thanos story.

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

The Turning of the Stars

Castiel is a wishing star and Dean has the one wish he can't seem to get right.

~1.9k

AO3 Link

This had been a particularly rough year for Castiel.

Well, “year” was relative, as he didn’t exactly experience “years” like most planets did while hanging aloof in the cosmos. Time ceased to be in his little galaxy where he did his work; it washed over him like a gentle breeze trying to bend a mountain.

That being said, it had been a particularly rough recent period of existence for Castiel, and it was all because of one completely insignificant human.

“Castiel” was, of course, the name he gave himself and not the name he was known by to the humans of earth. He was called Alpha Aquarrii to the more scientific of their world, or Sadalmelik - the second-brightest star in the Aquarius constellation.

He was, first and foremost, a wishing star.

Castiel was proud of his track record with granting wishes. Making a wish come true while working within the bounds of Earth’s physics and probabilities was no easy task for a star, but Castiel was billions of years old by now and had practice with millions of different worlds - and the art of bringing to pass a desire that had been given to him was something that he’d mastered. He was well familiar with the feeling that let him know the wish had successfully taken effect. It was like a spark of lightning coursed through his form; igniting the stardust he housed inside.

Some of the newer stars had to intervene more... personally, but that wasn’t an approach Castiel had needed to take in nearly half a millennia.

Naturally, he’d been absolutely confident when one Dean Winchester had made a wish that Castiel had granted tens of thousands of times. It was one of the simplest of wishes, even.

It had started the same as any other wish. Castiel felt an intentful gaze on him and immediately tuned in to the proper area to hear the words.

Earth.

North America.

United States.

Kansas.

Lawrence.

A human was lying on the hood of a black vehicle, staring up at Castiel in the night sky, shivering slightly against the cool breeze.

“I wish…”

Castiel waited. Listened.

“I wish I could… find someone.” There was a pause before the man sighed and shook his head, grumbling to himself about being stupid before hopping off the hood and climbing back into the car.

This was about love .

Love was easy enough for Castiel to create - he just needed the right scenario. With a little biology, mathematics, and timing, he’d been successful in creating unions in the past without much difficulty. Just last week (perhaps it was more than a week, but time was difficult for him) he’d succeeded in granting the same wish to another human, one Jimmy Novak, by finding his own true love. Creatures like humans had interactions that were fairly predictable and easy to manipulate; they often just needed a push in the right direction. That wasn’t to say that humans weren’t constantly surprising Castiel. They absolutely were - but that didn’t mean they were mostly simple people with simple needs.

As Castiel watched the man  - Dean Winchester -  drive off down the road, he could still sense that, despite the misgivings, his hopeful little mind was still allowing the wish to linger.

So, Castiel went to work.

The first person he sent to Dean was Cassie Robinson.

She was attractive, intelligent, and they were entirely genetically compatible. It was the perfect match.

Castiel made sure the two of them were filling up at a gas station at the same time when he blew Cassie’s hat off of her head, effectively hitting Dean in the face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Cassie said, running in his direction.

“It’s no problem,” Dean said, holding out the hat towards her. “I can use a good slap in the face every once in a while, anyway.”

They both laughed, Cassie took the hat, and they parted ways.

If a cosmic entity such as a star could frown, Castiel would have done so. This was usually the point when he would feel the warm lighting across his being, signifying a wish granted - but no such feeling came.

Meaning that he’d gotten it wrong.

It wasn’t unheard of for him to get a wish wrong, but it was rare enough for him to be confused by it. The circumstances had been perfect, the timing was just right, and their compatibility was undeniable.

Castiel continued to watch the two, just in case he hadn’t messed up somewhere, but they continued to persistently not interact with each other.

Huh.

Cassie must not have been the right person.

The next person Castiel sent in Dean’s direction was Lisa Braeden.

Castiel had watched Lisa extensively before finally deciding that there was no possible way he could fail with her as the choice.

The conditions were perfect.

Dean was walking down the street, just as Lisa flung the door open to her yoga studio, smacking Dean in the face.

Castiel wasn’t sure if he was smacking Dean in the face again because it was a brilliant plan to bring two hearts together, or if he was just frustrated at Dean.

“Oh my god, I didn’t - I didn’t see you!” Lisa’s hand flew to her mouth as Dean rubbed at his forehead with a grimace.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said, wincing and smiling when he got a good look at Lisa.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Lisa asked in concern, and Castiel didn’t miss the way she looked Dean over.

“Well,” Dean shrugged his shoulders and letting his charm take over. “You could let me take you out to dinner?”

Lisa blinked, then smiled at Dean.

“Well, that sounds like the least I can do.”

Castiel relaxed as the two talked, but didn’t let himself get comfortable in the match quite yet. He still hadn’t felt the wish be granted, so there was a chance it wasn't going to work.

Dean and Lisa went on three dates before parting ways amicably.

How? They were perfect in every way possible. It was ludicrous that Castiel had failed to make the wish come true twice in a row.

The third person Castiel sent towards Dean Winchester was Aaron Bass.

Aaron was charming in an endearing kind of way, and was sure to compliment Dean’s own personality nicely. Yes, Aaron was a perfectly logical choice for Castiel to make on Dean’s behalf.

Castiel created a detour on Dean’s way home from work, forcing him to drive by a club that Aaron worked at - and just as he’d suspected, Dean decided to drop in for a while after a long day.

“What can I get you?” Aaron asked, smiling at Dean warmly as Dean took a seat at the bar.

“Ah, just surprise me,” Dean replied, matching the grin.

Castiel waited for it, the spark signifying success - but nothing came.

Dean and Aaron flirted for the better part of an hour before Dean left him with a small wave of his hand.

Castiel couldn’t understand it. The sheer improbability of it all was absurd. It was as if he were back being a recently-formed star that was still trying to figure out how to grant wishes, instead of the seasoned space dust that he was.

An entire rotation of the earth around its sun was spent studying Dean Winchester and finding him matches that should have been perfect for him in every way, shape, and form.

And that was why it had been a particularly rough recent period of existence for Castiel.

One interesting thing had come from all of this, however. Castiel’s gaze had always bounced so rapidly between wishes, that he’d never really had the opportunity to study one creature so intently and so… thoroughly. As aggravating as the situation was, Castiel found that he actually quite liked this Dean Winchester. He was funny, clever, witty, kind, caring, and so many more descriptions that Castiel could easily have dedicated an entire human week to reciting. Not all of the humans that Castiel had studied for whatever period of time had been like this.

None had, in fact.

Getting to know Dean Winchester only made Castiel want to find him happiness even more.

After a while of more searching, Castiel had found her.

The perfect match.

Or at least, the sixty-seventh match, so she would have to do.

Jo Harvelle was similar to Dean in a lot of ways - perhaps too similar, but only time would tell. Castiel had a good feeling about her, though. If he could just make it happen, they would bond immediately.

He’d decided to make it happen at a library. It was neither of their favorite places to be, necessarily, so maybe putting them both on foreign soil would force a connection.

This time, it wasn’t going to fail, because Castiel was going to intervene… personally.

A star could take a different form in they chose to, and the younger stars were the ones who did it the most. Making a wish come into fruition was a lot more likely when one could mold the situation in one’s own two hands, so to speak.  

It made Castiel feel a bit like he was giving up - but he cared about this human now, and Dean needed the best possible chance at finding that someone.

Castiel was going to be a librarian.

In an instant he shot a small tendril of his immense power down to earth, taking the form of the last person he’d helped find love, for luck. A Jimmy Novak copy now stood behind the desk of the library, trenchcoat on, hair a mess, and blinking rapidly.

Having eyes again was a bit of a shock.

Alpha Aquarrii could still exist in the sky while his consciousness was on earth - it acted as an anchor or a homing beacon, which was a good thing for anyone invested in his constellation.

After a moment of adjustment, Castiel picked up a pile of books, and began putting them away, trying to blend in with the other librarians.

Jo came in, just as Castiel had planned, and he watched her head over to the history section. A few moments later Dean came in, and Castiel felt more alive just looking at him than he had in his entire history of being a cosmic entity.

Castiel took a deep breath and walked over to the man he’d been secretly helping for over a year; Dean was meandering through the young adult novels. Castiel cleared his throat, determined to send him to the history section and seal the deal.

“Excuse me -” Castiel said, his voice lower and raspier than he’d been expecting. Jimmy hadn’t sounded like that.

Then again, Jimmy also hadn’t been home to a star.  

Dean turned, and in that moment everything he’d been planning went up in smoke. The dialogue, the plan, even Jo. All of it was gone now.

There was a small spark that made him jolt; it started in Castiel’s heart and emanated outwards, making the tips of his fingers feel like they could burst with untapped energy.

“I’m -” Castiel struggled to make words, “I think I’m here to… grant a wish.”

Dean laughed and ran a hand through his hair in a way Castiel had seen him do while flirting.

“Mine, I hope.”

“Yes,” Castiel said after a moment, smiling to match Dean. “I hope it’s yours, too.”

[elizabethrobertajones]

m so glad they keep mentioning the paradise so they arent going to gloss ovdr that cause I still cant reconcile s12 with s13 Jack. S12jack as a fetus with the using powers on the doctor, Cas and Kelly making them hellbend on keeping his powers the paradise vision honestly to me fetusjack seemed to use his power with at least intention and awarness and this Jack doesnt look like this at all

I think we read Jack a bit differently back in season 12, because I was always ready to assume he wasn’t strictly in control of his powers, and they started this season by announcing that he and his powers were practically separate entities, which reconciled everything I felt about what he’d “done” in season 12.

The early meta about what Jack might represent in the same way people were guessing what the Darkness would be thematically and nailing it after season 10, made sense and ended up being what they have gone with, about him representing a chance for them all to confront some feelings about stuff through him, and for him to have a chance to have free will. Since he was going to be at least conflicted and they’d spin him being sympathetic at one point or another, it made sense that he wouldn’t really have known what he was doing. I thought it might be that he did it knowingly but had no understanding whatsoever of what he had *actually* done, and that it had all been a sort of basic level of self-awareness self-defence. But him feeling like his powers are another part of him entirely from his consciousness that only react when there’s practically a mutual self-interest decided by his emotions… Yeah, that works for me :P 

It means you can “blame” everything on him but that the actual part we care about (the soft nougat-y centre) isn’t what people think he is. He’ll have a choice if he brings the planet to its knees or raises it to its feet, or doesn’t do EITHER because it’s been 2 weeks and no one’s sat him down and explained to him that destiny is a made up concept by people who want to control you, in this universe.

I mean he could kind of guess from Asmodeus but he hasn’t had anyone be like, nope, that’s how it usually is around here. Haha, remember the time archangels spent millennia engineering the universe for armageddon and we were like screw you? good times, good times.

Anyway, the grey area is enormous on this show and they want Jack to live in it, and that means being very human - more human than any other supernatural anything we’ve ever had on the show. Fresh start, no clue who he is, and only a very blurry sense of anything that happened while he was not yet born. I think the fact he DOES have a sense of some of the things that happened - but he can only really remember Dagon dying and the rift from an abstract perspective means he doesn’t even remember everything he did in the womb. 

Also I think that in 12x20 I was on team “Dean’s right but he’s overreacting” and now like the whole argument in 13x03 was “Dean’s right but he’s overreacting completely” because it’s fairly obvious Sam has more than altruistic motivations to help Jack master his powers, but Dean’s missed the entire emotional nuance, and how Sam relates to Jack and how that would make him want to help him regardless but it just so happens Jack is ALSO useful to him… So I think that’s probably a safe reading :P That Dean has some sense of what happened but that he then takes it in the worst possible direction and gets incredibly upset about it, because he’s messed up and bad things keep happening to the people he loves. And he hasn’t managed to connect all the dots on what happened in season 12 either. It doesn’t mean Jack (or his powers anyway) didn’t DO all those things, just that the more detailed readings on why seem to be holding up under the exploration of Jack’s powers this year. Especially since 13x03 where Sam just asked him outright how it felt to use them and he could barely explain it or use them.

If we accept that Jack and his powers are different - that his powers are cosmic and unreliable and translating his emotions into effects which Jack had no say on - and that that self-defence extended as far as the power preserving itself with NO input from Jack as a cherry on the top to protecting him… I think you can basically characterise the powers as a separate entity, but one so intrinsic to Jack it’s not like it’d manifest as another thing - or if we did get a self vs self thing for Jack the powers would just look like Jack again. 

In 12x10 they helpfully explained in reaaally clear exposition that a nephilim is angel grace and human soul, and if those two parts aren’t mixed into one cohesive whole of a soul absolutely powered up and comfortably combined with angel power, but seeing it as a secondary thing to where the personality and self comes from, it creates a sort of instability, because I don’t think these two parts are MEANT to mix.

(It’s also killing me that this COULD be exposition on Cas, but as much as the writers constantly show their awareness of canon and throw back to everything, they’ve been completely silent on Metatron saying Cas had a soul, and Death saying souls couldn’t be destroyed, and now this - I am dying to know if Cas’s soul is doing okay in there and what will happen to Jack and if it will relate to Cas… I mean it’s killing me because the playbook on writing Cas post-human changed, and although they never ever say it, you could literally classify him as season 4-8 “soulless” and 9 onwards as “not soulless” and the read wouldn’t be wildly wrong about his personality, even if there’s seemingly nothing to say what happened to his soul from 9x09 onwards…) 

(*grinds teeth*)

I mean don’t get me wrong I love Jack, I’ve just been yelling at the screen for ages about this and it’s been like 4 years now, which is way too long for my patience, especially creating a character which basically serves to ridicule my concern about this with his stupid soul and his stupid angel grace :D

… kinda off point by now but yeah. This is how I’ve been reading it anyways and it seems to all fit together to me.

[ieleoelei]

And then we wonder WHY WE HIRE THE WRONG PEOPLE...

Image: Gerd Altmann, Tumisu & MagicDesk from Pixabay

Businesses are all about people. Besides money, we all know that that one crucial aspect for the success of your business is… THE STAFF. Your business idea can be the goose that lays the golden eggs; you can have all the resources, a very positive market research result, a perfect financial and cash flow forecast, the most suitable and creative sales and marketing plans and strategies, and all the investors ready to put the money on the table, and anything else you can imagine but if you don’t have people to run it... forget it... it’s going to be a failure for sure; and not just people but...THE RIGHT people. Finding employees to cover a position is a good start, but finding those stars that seem to have been made for that specific job, can lead your project further beyond than what you ever imagined.

Sometimes we take recruiting for granted and forget that, in fact, it is a whole science. It’s actually not surprising that there is an entire academic field, and a whole industry behind it. (Very profitable by the way!). So the question here is: why the heck after so many decades of recruiting experience we still select the wrong people? Why even after having spent thousands in headhunting services Mary quits after three months. And why after a ten-steps process including interviews, polygraph, psycho-technical tests, case study solving tests, and even blood and urine sample analysis, we still have to fire John after we all happily signed the working contract and celebrated with a champagne bottle!

I discussed this issue once with the General Manager of a pretty big company that provides medical and pharmaceutical goods to entities in the health industry, and he told something like: “well… we cannot forget that the business of all these headhunters is just finding someone, not finding the perfect, star match. Once they have found a person for you that could possibly do the job they charge you for their service and they’re done and gone. But they rarely commit to find a perfectly matching candidate; this would be actually not profitable for them. They just want to find somebody quickly, and get their part of the business. So… they are to blame!

However, that is not the main cause of the issue. In fact, part of the answer has always been right under our nose! It might sound stupid but, haven’t you ever stopped to think that, in general, HIRING PROCESSES ARE A BIG THEATRE STAGE WHERE EVERYBODY LIES?! And we actually seem to be pretty good actors but in the end, very deeply, we know very well that we are all playing a not-so-funny game. To start with, we have our outstanding candidates who all seem to inflate their resumes by making “objects in the mirror be bigger than they appear” by actually including false information, especially in those gap periods where “you should NEVER show that you went through unemployment months”. I remember once attending a recruiting talk at my university given by HAYS, one of the biggest worldwide known recruiting firms, where the speaker, a senior recruiter, shared how he randomly started once asking to interviewees what percentage of theirs CVs was invented or false... AND A LOT OF APPLICANTS CAME UP WITH PERCENTAGES! He was shocked, just as we all were in the audience. Now, after having submitted the CV, during the interview we all describe how we are the best: of course we have done that thing we are asked if we’ve done, we have experience in the field, this has been our dream job since we were kids, we are fans of the company we’re applying to, our biggest weakness is being perfectionists and the worst mistake he have committed is that we should have been more ambitious that time when we set the sales increase rate at 50%. In the end, we are just perfect! Of course, right?!

HIRING PROCESSES ARE A BIG THEATRE STAGE WHERE EVERYBODY LIES!

On the other hand we have our heavenly organizations, where jobs couldn’t be more interesting and exciting, that offer us incredible working conditions: a great atmosphere, promising careers, additional benefits, off course not extra hours and never in a million years extra workload, all of that for a very competitive salary, in a company committed with its customers and whose input to the world is important. And of course, the job description is totally clear. I mean... come on!!! AND THEN WE WONDER WHY WE CHOOSE THE WRONG PLACES TO WORK!

So why does this happen? Easy: if we all said the truth people might never choose our places to work and our HR departments would never choose them to work for us; just like if a presidential candidate said the truth... well, no one would vote for him, right? So we all prefer to invisibly agree to go for a common delirium. Crazy, huh? Mentioning our “dark sides” is a big taboo but it is also the most important thing to know!!! If there’s something sure is that we will work in imperfect environments with imperfect staffs, and that include all of us. So, why not approaching that with less fear? At least we would be consciously choosing the imperfect. What if we just said the truth? How many years will have to pass until we have mature, honest and transparent recruiting encounters? Daring to say the truth and face the reality could help us both find a better person for the company and a better workplace for the candidate, and avoid the costly, wasteful, regretful, long and painful experience of having decided for “the wrong one”.

Mentioning our “dark sides” is a big taboo but it is also the most important thing to know!!!

Read more…

YES… OF COURSE I, MYSELF, HAVE LIED IN INTERVIEWS

I might have lied more, but I especially remember this one time; I went to an interview at the French well known cosmetic company Pierre Fabre, in Castres (if I remember well). And here’s the one and only lie on my CV: very hidden, at the bottom of the resume on the “Other Interests” section I had written that I was proficient in Adobe Photoshop (haha!). Well, guess what, the senior manager that interviewed me said that he was glad I was good using Photoshop since it was going to be very useful for the position (it was a communication role). You can imagine what I was feeling when I was listening to those word! The funny thing is that … a couple days after, I received a call saying that I had been chosen for the job!!!! Shame on me.

AND YES… THEY HAVE LIED ME TONS IN INTERVIEWS

Hasn’t it happened to you that your boss asks you to do tasks that where never mentioned as part of your responsibilities but that are his/hers? Typical, right? I my case I ended up doing the most boring duties ever, including gathering all his yearly business trips receipts and preparing the tedious formalities for their reimbursement, among many other off-position tasks. And this was at a very prestigious multinational company. Dumb of me to not have complained!

Now “Lie” might be a strong and wrong word, because in some other cases it is not always about lies. Sometimes it’s just that the position is not even clear for the company, and sometimes they just happen to have a blabber mouth. In other of my positions I was clearly told that I would have a top management position with full decision power an autonomy (I could not move a finger without asking my boss, not to mention the budget management ban which affected the core of my position), where I would have to design a project (everything was already designed, I just had to deploy what was settled), that 70% of the position would be strategy and 30% operative (it was actually 10% strategy 90% operative), that I was going to get a monthly bonus based on performance (only happened half of the times), that I was going to have a discount on my health insurance and benefits for my family members (never happened), that I was NOT going to work “that many” extra hours (it was a daily thing… no kidding), that weekends I was going to be off (hahahaha!). OHHHH!... and they forgot to tell me that I HAD to work on bank holidays. Except for Christmas or New Year where I had the lucky chance to choose one to be off. Yay! (Yeah… this is called crossing the line… no wonder why I quit).

YES… I HAVE HEARD CONFESSIONS OF HOW PEOPLE HAVE LIED IN INTERVIEWS

Here are some:

“They only part where I lied was where they asked me if I already had experience in that. I said yeah, and actually came up with an example.”

“I had the job description, so I researched about the methodology expertise they were looking for, and read about it during three entire days, and… during the interview I just invented an experience where I used that methodology as part of one of the roles that appeared in my CV. J!

BIG SCANDALS ABOUT LIES IN RESUMES

The previous Mayor of Bogota, Enrique Peñalosa (whom I do not hate… I’m just bringing this example as it is accurate) was discovered to have lied in his CV, having added among his education titles a Master’s Degree and a Ph.D that he never did!!! (I know…. I was also like “Really??!!!!”).

Talking about Colombian politicians, it is common for some (including our current President!!!!!!!!!!!) to say they are Harvard Alumni, which is not entirely false… it’s just that they have taken a one-week course or even a couple-days seminar…

TRENDY: INTERVIEW LIES IN OSCAR-WINNING MOVIE!

The topic appears in the double-oscar-winning movie that made history in February 2020! The first non-English-language film that ever gets the Best Movie award!!!

The movie starts with a lie in an interview and... Nobody would ever imagine what lying in an interview could lead to!!!! Watch it! You'll be shocked! Congrats to the winning team!

#BreakingTaboos #NoMoreLying #Hiring #HiringChallenges #HiringSuccess #HiringAdvice #HiringAdvices #HiringStrategy #Recruiting #RecruitingChallenges #Parasite #Oscars2020 #SouthKorea #BongJoonHo

[hell-if-i-know13]

Death??

"Oh, crap! I'm late.  Oh, well...I probably have one of the only jobs where people prefer that I'm late.  Actually, to be completely honest, most wish that i would never show up at all. Not everybody.  But most."  I open the door.  "Hello.  Let me check my chart...Ah, here it is.  Mr. Campbell.  Hey!  You wouldn't, by chance, be related to the Bruce Campbell, would you? Ya, know...famed 'B' actor.  Guy with the chin?  'This is my Boom Stick'."   Campbell stared at him blankly.  Frank pitched his voice, "Give me some sugar, Baby."  Nothing.     "Um, no.  Why?"  Incredulously, he exclaimed, "I love that guy!  His movies are awesome!  So funny!  Hahaha...so funny!  Check him out, totally worth it.  Seriously."  "Who are you?", Mr. Campbell asks.  "I'm sorry.  How rude of me!  My name is Frank, but most people know me by my other name- Grim Reaper.  Ya know, the hooded one, the angel of death. But I like Frank better.  It's a less "shit-your-pants" kinda name.  "So I'm dead?"  "Well, yes and no.  You're currently in a coma, but it's your time."  Stunned, Mr. Campbell stutters, "If I'm in a coma, then how am I talking to you?"  "Cuz I'm dead, dude.  You're thinking of the laws of the living. I go beyound that. Take a look around, man!  All your family is here but no one can see us.  And for the love of god...  You're standing up!  You've been, like, paralized, a vegetable, for 5 years!   That should be a big give away right there."  Frank felt kinda sorry for him, but he deals with this crap all the time and had a job to do, so he continued.  "So, as you may know by my rep, I'm here to escort you to your final judgment. But since it's Friday and because I kinda feel like slacking off a bit, if you want, you can tag along with me today.  Hangout."   He looks around at Campbell's family- women sobbing, men shuffling from one foot to another, obviously uncomfortable and no doubt wishing they were anywhere but here. "This job can be boring.  It would be kinda nice to have some company. So, what do you say, man?  You game?" Death's enthusiasm was apparent.  "That is, unless your'e that excited to see where you'll be spending eternity."  Hahaha!  "I mean, I dont know how you lived your life so I'm not really sure if you'll be heading north or south, but it's your call."  Campbell stared at him vacantly.   "Please hangout with me!" Frank blurted out.  "I'll put a good word in for you."  Campbell snapped to.  "You can do that?" he asked.   "Well, shit yeah, I can!" Then, half-under his breath, Frank murmurred, "If they listen to me, that is.  But hey!  It can't hurt, right?  Ok then, Mr. Campbell.  Wait, that's so formal.  If you don't mind, what's your first name?"  "Rob."  "Rob.  No shit?  You took me as a Mark."   "So, Mr. Death."  "Hey!  That's my father.  Like I said, call me Frank."  "Ok, then, Frank.  Why "Frank" and why do you look like a normal man instead of a skull in a hood?  I thought you'd be, like, different."  "Death or any of my other names are just...scary.  The 'Reaper-look' is just so, ya know, eighteen hundreds. I mean, shit, your dead and this tall hooded skull holding a huge scythe just appears, standing over you...That's some scary-ass shit!  You humans are already dealing with the whole 'being dead' thing, and then that thing walks through the door!  Fuck me side ways!  That's some cruel shit.  Don't get me wrong, though.  There are still some of us who like that look but not all of us are into that shit."  "What do you mean by 'all of us'?", Rob asks.   "Well, you see, Rob, there are, like, 150,000 deaths a day so that would be impossibale for one dude to reap them all.  Plus, I like my weekends off.  Shit, who the hell wants to work that much? So, anyway, there are a lot of us. And since everything has to be so P.C. these days, there's a Reaper for every religion.  Like I said, most of us try to make this as easy as possible for you, but not all of us. Like Gary, for instance.  That dude is a dick! Scares the shit out of every single soul he reaps. So fucked up!  But he's been doing this for a super long time."  Frank chuckles to himself, as if a funny image just popped into his head.  He sobers, shakes the thought away and looks back at his charge.  "So Rob, what do you say?  Wanna hang for a little while or shall I take you straight to your judgment? Da-da-da DUM!"  Rob thought a second, then replies, "Sure, I guess.  Just as long as it doesn't effect my judgment."  "Nah, man.  No worries.  It really all depends on how you lived your life. Once your dead, it's all good. Ok?  Sweet.  Then, follow me.  We have an agenda to follow.  So, first, we have to go to a union meeting.  I know, I know.  Boring shit, right?  You wouldn't believe some of the stuff they make us do.  Like, before we got the Union, we had to work all animal deaths.  You wouldn't believe how many more deaths that adds to our schedule!  Man, those days were crazy!   Dog really is man's best friend. Those stubburn S.O.B.'s  would never want to come with us.  They'd just want to hang around waiting for their masters.  It was so bad we had to start carrying dog treats with us! And leashes!  Shit was unreal.  But ever since we got the Union, they sanctioned a whole other Grim department  to take care of pet deaths.  Helps out alot.  "Oh, and also to answer your previous question, we Reapers can look anyway we want."  To emphasize his point, Frank suddenly appeared as a large-breasted, scantily clad blonde woman, then quickly shifted back to his old self.  "Remember me talking about Gary?  Yeah, don't let him scare you. He can't hurt you in any way so if he starts anything, just ignore him.  "Alright, we're here.  Let's find a seat.  Don't worry, man, these meetings don't usually last long...unless one of those dick holes starts asking stupid questions. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."  They both take a seat near the back.  "Wwwwhat the hell is that?", Rob asks, shuddering.   "Oh, now see, that's what i was talking about- that's Gary. Man, he is such a dick!  Why he want's to scare the souls he takes is such a dick move. HEY GARY!!!"  Frank waves, trying to get Gary's attention.   "Yeah, Frank." Gary waves the finger at him.  "Eat a bag of dicks."  "Screw you, Frank."  Gary shakes his head in total annoyance.  "Haha! I love fucking with him. You see, Rob?  You're lucky you got me. You could've had him or one of these other boring pricks.  Ugh, they're so lame.  It's like 'Hi...I'm Death, here to take you to your judgment...follow me, please'.  BOOOORRINNG!  So lame!  Told ya, you're a lucky guy...well, except for the whole 'dying' thing."  Frank shifts awkwardly in his seat.     "Right, then...it's starting.  Pay attention.  You might find some answers to a few questions you had in life."   The Grim on the mic clears his throat.  "Uh-Hem!  Excuse me, sorry about that.  Alright.  I'd like to thank you all for showing up and sharing you support for Team 013. I guess I'll get right down business- I know you guys have alot to do. Okay, first on the dockit. If everyone could do their best at getting the spirits to come with you, that would be great.  I know they have free will, but try to remember that they don't know they have free will.  Basically, don't give up so easily if they give you problems.  It's too much paperwork, anyway.  And now we're being threatened with quotas!  I know none of us want that.  So, please, folks, let's all work together on this."  The Team Leader shuffles a few papers, then runs his long, boney finger down the page.   "What's he talking about, Frank?", Rob asks in befuddlement.   "Well, you see, even though your dead, you still have free will.  Technicall,  you don't have to go with us. We have always made it seem like you have no choice, but that's really just to make it easier on us."  Frank muffles a laugh.  "And to make the boss men happy. But, some souls put up a fight, and that's where your 'ghost' comes in."  Rob's face glazes over.  Frank continued, "Alright...so, for some people, it's really hard for them to leave their loved ones.  Or maybe they have some sort of unfinished business so they refuse to come with us.  Instead, they end of wandering the world as a detached entity, or rather, a ghost.  Eventually, most end up calling on us after they feel that their loved ones are fine, or that unfinished business they were so concerned about finally gets taken care of.  For instance,  there are the ones that have been killed at the hands of their fellow man.  Once their murderer is caught or killed, they usually seem to be able to rest in peace and take their judgment.  Unfortunately, though, there are some that don't.  They stay on Earth, eventually becoming evil.  They start getting jeolous of the living and become violent.  They'll try to possess people."  Frank shakes his head, a little in disgust but mostly with sadness.   "You see, there are demons and angels, but known of them are allowed on Earth. Only us-the Grims- and the Almighty Big Cheese himself.  That's it.  So really, that demon-possession stuff is really just a pissed off spirt that's refused to be judged and is trying to find a way back to the living.  It's fucked up, right?!  Man, your kind will do anything to stay on Earth.  Oh, shit!"  Frank exclaimes.  "We've missed, like, half of the meeting!  We better start paying attention."   The speaker raises his voice a little. "And for the love of that man right over there..."  Frank glances over in the direction of the speaker's gesture.  "Is that God?  Holy shit!  It is!!  He never comes to these things  Check this- I'll see if we can talk to him after the meeting...ya know, throw a good word in for ya."  The Grim throws Campbell a wink.  Speaker- "Ok, ok...calm down, folks."  God clicks his cheeks and points his finger to th crowled.  The crowd starts hooting again.  God bows his head slightly, a sly smile on his lips and says, "What can I say?  I'm the shit."  The speaker sighs, waits for the cheers to subside.  "Ok, then, back to business, Boys.  As I was saying, I know all of you are overloaded as it is, but please, do your best to get the spirits before they die or at the least, right at the time of death."   "Why is that so important?" Rob asks.   "If we are too late the spirit doesn't really know they're dead, which brings us back to the ghost thing.  Have you heard of the different kinds of hauntings?"  "Yeah, I have.  I was kinda into that sort of stuff."  "Oh, cool.  Then you know what a residual haunting is, right?"  "Yeah."  Rob was actually starting to perk up, finally.  "It's where the ghost does the same thing at the same time, over and over.  Like, every day."  "Yep, you got it, buddy.  So these poor bastards...if we don't get to 'em in time, they get stuck and end up repeating the last moment that they remember.  Like, what they were thinking right before they died or whatever and get stuck there.  And they don't become mean because they don't know they're dead. They're the hardest ones to get to cross over.  So hard, even, that once they get stuck in that loop, we have a special Grim that gets appointed the case.   "And that concludes our meeting for Union 013.  Thank you, Gentlemen, for coming."   Frank nudges Rob, "Let's go talk to the Big Guy."  Rob follows the Grim over to where God was sitting behind the podium.  "Hey, you old son-of-a-gun!  Or should i say 'Gaylord Olda Dern'?  Hahaha!"  "You can stop right there, Frank." God says, holding up his hand in mock-protest.   "Haha!  I love messing with this guy!  Ok, Rob, like, we call him God 'cuz those are his  initials and he hates his real name.  That's why people also call him 'Lord'.  It's just the abbreviation of Gaylord."  Rob is still just staring at God, mouth slightly gaped.   "So, where's that bastard son of your's ?" Frank says, giving God a slight jab in the arm.  "Let me guess...back on Earth just hanging around."  Hahaha!  God roles his eyes and gives a slight huff.  "Man, don't get me started with that kid!  I have no clue where he is most of the time!  You know how he likes doing that disappearing act of his. Get's all kinds of attention when he's a kid and then poof!  Becomes antisocial for thirty years, resurfaces and is all like- "Look at me! Look what I can do!"- That boy, I swear!"  God's clearly exasperated.  Frank turns to Rob.  "So, I'm sure you know about Mary and the virgin birth, right?  Well, that wasn't really what God, here, intended it to be."  Frank lowers his head and starts chuckling.  He continues, "Oh man, this shit is funny! Ok, ok...so God goes down to Earth and starts spitting game to Mary, right?  He's all like, 'I'm the Almighty being, the creator of the stars and the universe...' Hehehe." Frank puts his hand to his mouth and whispers, "If you couldn't tell by the Bible, He kinda has an ego and shit." Rob just looks at him.  Frank nods over at God, "So anyway, He and Mary start talking all dirty.  She's all naked, rolling in the hay, talking some nasty perv shit  back to God, and he's all like, 'damn, girl' because she's a virgin.  So, He's gettin' all hot and bothered.  Starts priming his piece from across the room just from the way she's been talking to Him.  Then, all of the sudden there's a big BANG!  And it goes off prematurely.  A hole in one from across the room, like some Arnold Palmer shit!  Frank's doubled-over in laughter at this point.  Through snorts, he says, "God gets so damn embarrased that he's like, 'Oh, hey, yeah, sorry about that.  So.....I gotta go.  Peter just sent me a message...Morning Star is starting some shit, so I gotta split.'  Um, so I'll, like, set a bush on fire or something to get ahold of you.'  And poof!  He disappeared!  Whatdaya know...nine months later and here's Jesus!  Oh, man!  That was so great!  I love telling that story.  God just shakes his head at Frank, who asks, "So, what's that son of your's going by these days? If I can remember correctly, it's been Krisha, Mithra, Jeshua...that boy could never make up his mind.  Haha."  Frank shakes God's hand, says, "Alright, Gaylord.  We gotta get back to work...Unlike some of us."  He grins and gives a little ahem.  "I'll talk at you later, my Dude.  Oh and do me a solid, would ya?  Take it easy on Rob, here, when I bring him up.  He's a pretty cool dude."  He gives Rob a nudge.  God smiles at Rob.  "Yeah, I'd say...if he's had to hang around you all day, listening to all your shit, Frank!" Hahaha.  "Good one, God...go eat a bag of dicks.  Ok Rob, let's hit the bricks, Bud.  "So dude, I'm going to go in here and do my thing.  You wait out here.  Hopefully, it won't take long."  Thirty minutes later,  Grim walks out.  "Sorry man.  Took a little longer than I thought.  But anyway, Rob, this is Doris.  She's going to tag along with us, too.  I only have a few more stops to go.  "Oh, shit.  This next dude is a bad fucker. Um, if you here screaming and shit, pay it know mind."  Grim opens the door and walks in. All of a sudden, Rob and Doris hear screaming and begging, then, a really loud roar-like growl.  More screaming.  Finally, silence. Grim opens the door again.  "He was a bad dude.  He had to pay. I took him straight to judgement, but not before I had my fun. Fucking child molestor-piece of shit.  "Ok, I'm going to pick up a few more souls. Man, Peter hates when I bring a group to him."  He chuckled.  "When this is all you do every day for hundreds of years, you gotta have fun with your co workers, right?  I know it's kinda dick, what I'm about to do, but hey! It's funny to me!", he busts out laughing.   Regaining composer, "Ok.  Let me do a head count here.  Fifteen.  Ok, cool.  Didn't lose anyone."  Pointing a finger upwards, he says, "It's time to head up to them Pearly Gates for all of you to receive your judgements, and, of course, for you guys to meet the biggest Peter of them all!"  Frank snickers and lets out a snort.  "If you could just head through that door over there and take a seat, please. Thanks."  "Hey." Grim says as Rob slowly walks past him towards the door.  "I had a blast with you today.  I really hope you get some good news.  Come on...I'll walk in with you."  "God damn it, Frank!", exclaims Peter.  "What have I told you about collecting so many?  One at a time, you dick.  It's Friday and almost time for me to get off.  I have a date for  the movies with Shiva.  Oh, man...all those arms!  Can you imagine?"  "Chill, man.  You know I have to fuck with ya, Petey-boy."  "I hate you, Frank."  "Oh, but I love you!"  Grim puts a hand on Rob's shoulder.  "Well, Rob, take it easy, my dude."  He turns to Peter and says, "Take it easy on my boy here, Peter."  "Shit, if he's had to deal with you all day, then that should be a gold pass straight through!"  Peter chuckles.   "Whatever, Dick nose."  Then the Grim shakes his head and says, "Damn!  That's twice today I've been told that."  He lets out a laugh and turns to Rob.  "Hopefully for your sake they mean it.  "Ok, my dude."  He shakes Rob's hand.  "I better see some wings on you and not horns."  All of a sudden there's a loud voice behind the door. Frank turns his head.  "Oh, shit!"  He walks out the door.  As it shuts behind him, Rob hears Frank exclaim, "What's up, Dick nose?!" 

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Fail of the Lich King

by Wardog

Tuesday, 14 July 2009Wardog critical hits Arthas: Rise of the Lich King, the World of Warcraft tie in novel, for 4000 points of damage.Uh-oh! This is in the Axis of Awful...~

Here’s a confession, Ferretbrain readers: I’ve never read a tie-in novel. Truthfully, I have enough trouble getting invested in the world in original fiction, so there’s a pretty low likelihood of me wanting to read about a universe specifically designed to have movies or games or a tv show happening in it.

I do, however, play World of Warcraft.

And I am, secretly, a bit of a Warcraft loregeek – having played Orcs Versus Humans, and Warcraft II and Warcraft IIIback in the day, despite being abysmal at RTS games. Azeroth is basically Generic Fantasy Setting#3 but having been splashing about it in since the age of eleven, what can I say, I have a fondness. For anyone who doesn’t give a toss (i.e. the rest of you) lore has kicked off in a big way recently in WoW, with the release of the expansion Wrath of the Lich King. This is a big deal.

Arthas, Rise of the Lich King, a WoW tie-in novel by Christie Golden, is the history of that big deal.

The short version: There’s this Lich King, right? He’s wrathful. He needs to taken out by a bunch of PCs.

The longer version: I’m not going to go into the history of Azeroth, which has a long and detailed history. Arthas, later to become part of the entity known of the Lich King (like, whoops), was the son of King Terenas Menethil, ruler of Lordaeron, and a paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand. An impetuous but basically okay youth, hope of his people yadda yadda yadda, he boned the only girl in the entire Warcraft universe, Jaina Proudmoore, for a bit and then went off to do, err, war things.

It’s all a bit complicated and involves a plague of undeath caused by infected grain, evil wizards, demons and Arthas going off the deep end, culling infected villages and burning the boats of his own army so they have no choice but to fight for him. While making questionable military decisions (this is WCIII, by the way) Arthas also gets obsessed with the

deathly hallows

runeblade Frostmourne, a sword rumoured to give its wielder limitless power. This is, as anyone could guess, a plot. In this case, orchestrated by the Lich King Ner’Zhul.

Arthas nabs Frostmourne from its prison of ice, despite the “DON’T TOUCH THE SWORD IT COMES WITH TERRIBLE PRICE YOU STUPID PILLOCK” signage and heads off to save his people. Except, this apparently involves murdering his own father, because, of course, the sword has completely corrupted him, and the Lich King is whispering to him, and controlling him, through it. Way to go, Arthas.

So, now some gothylooking sub-human Death Knight, Arthas charges around the land, generally wrecking it and raising people from the dead for kicks. But it turns out the Lich King isn’t as powerful as he thought he was and things start to go wrong. Arthas is recalled to Northrend, which is currently attack anyway by some other dudes from the lore (The Burning Legion, don’t ask). Again, it’s insanely complicated but Arthas fights his way to the Frozen Throne, releasing the Lich King and consuming him or something or other in order to become the true Lich King. Mwhaahaha.

And, then, in true Lord Voldemort fashion he’s just … been … like … sitting on there on the Frozen Throne. Raising an army, or whatever. Although everybody knows that “raising an army” is fantasy-speak for “doing fuck all.”

This is the story told in Arthas: Rise of the Lich King.

What neither my summary, nor the book itself, quite encompasses is the fact that there is quite a bit of WoWlore that’s quite cool and interesting. The original Lich King, for example, is actually an ancient Orcish shaman, tricked by demons into betraying his people. His transformation into the Lich King was actually a punishment for defying his demonic masters. Arthas, of course, is Generic Fantasy Concept #5: uppity princeling is stupid and turns evil. But there is something iconic about him, it must be admitted. He’s one of the most popular and enduring figures of the Warcraft universe.

I think part of his resonance comes from the fact you actually got to be him in Warcraft III. That game blew my tiny mind when it first came out. Not only was it sweeping, epic, and sub-Tolkeinesque in the way that Blizzard does supremely well (here’s the scene of him murdering his father –

check it out

!) but the narrative arc is, well, a bit of a mindfuck. You start out playing Arthas in his whiny Prince incarnation and, even though the game is utterly linear, it’s hard not to feel some responsibility for all the messed up stuff he does. Or rather, you do on Arthas’s behalf, because it is a RTS.

Anyway, that’s the background and a little bit of justification as to why I’m reading a tie-in novel, an experience I don’t think I’ll be repeating any time soon. This is not, you understand, a dig against tie-in novels, I’ve had absolutely nothing against them at all and I suspect I found the right sort of universe and the right sort of writers I’d enjoy them. But Arthas: Rise of the Lich King is absolutely terrible.

Dear me, dear me, it really is.

The problem is, I’m not sure what extent its just plain bad and to what extent signs I am interpreting as manifestations of badness are merely the tropes and tools of the tie-in novel form. Obviously tie-in novels are operating on a different set of rules to those governing original fiction. I’m not entirely sure what they are, truthfully, but I suppose it’s about evoking characters and places that are already familiar to the reader. And since the writer is working within an already quite restrictive canon, I suppose I should have expected an element of sketchiness but … but … it still feels incredibly tepid to me. It’s simultaneously bland and over-written, if that makes any sense at all. There’s no depth or conviction to the narrative – I suppose, I’d say it’s supremely utilitarian.

Northrend was the name of the land. Daggercap Bay the site where the Lordaeron fleet made harbor. The water, deep and choppy, with an unforgiving wind, was a cold-blue gray. Sheer-cliffs were dotted with tenacious pine trees soaring upwards, providing a natural defense of the small, flat area where Arthas and his men would make camp. A waterfall tumbled down, crashing in a billow of spray from a great height.

Do you see what I mean? It’s like looking at flat image. The information is presented list-like – there’s very little connection between the introduction of the sea, the cliffs, the camp, the waterfall. No senses other than the visual are engaged, and no effort has been made to do anything with the scene setting other than present it as it is. The waterfall tumbles down from a great height? Oh come on. It’s a waterfall, obviously it moves from a higher place to a lower place. Dan has pointed out that we’ve all been to Daggercap Bay so the description doesn’t have to do more than sketch in enough of the details to remind us and, bam, we have a ready-made vivid picture of it. Now maybe I’m just failing to engage with the differences between tie-in fiction and original-setting fiction but is it wrong of me to want just a little bit more effort than this?

One of the lines that Dan and I never tired of mocking in Star Wars III: The Revenge of the Sith is “from my point of view the Jedi are evil.” This is profoundly mockable from every conceivable angle but my favourite joke is that Lucas simply forgot to finish the line. He was sitting at his writing desk, thinking something like this: “what I want to do here is capture something of the moral ambiguity of this scene, the way morality is so often a matter of perspective. I suppose what Anakin is trying to say, from his point of the view the Jedi are evil.”

Writes down: “From my point of the view the Jedi are evil!”

And the entirety of Arthas: Rise of the Lich King reads like this to me.

For example, there’s scene in which Kael’thas, Prince of the Blood Elves, confronts Jaina Proudmoore over Arthas’s destruction of his entire race. This is naturally complicated by the fact Jaina, tastelessly, chose whiny Arthas over fabulous Kael. Now, I think the thought process behind the scene went something like this: “what I’d like to show in this scene is Kael’thas verbally attacking the woman he loves and cannot have because he cannot attack his real enemy, Arthas, and therefore feels helpless and impotent. In order to capture this quite subtle interplay of emotions and ruined relationships, Goldie writes:

Jaina felt quick tears come to her eyes as she suddenly understood. He was attacking her because he could not attack his real enemy. He felt helpless, impotent and was striking out at the nearest target – her, Jaina Proudmoore, whose love he had wanted and failed to win.

Everything about the way the book is written is as laboured as the scene above. There’s no hope of anything, or anyone, accruing any emotional depth because, Rowling-like, everything the characters say, think and do are mercilessly explained to us. Take this little discussion between 9 year old Arthas and Prince Varian, whose father has just been assassinated.

“He was assassinated,” Varian’s voice was blunt and emotionless. … Arthas stared. Death in glorious battle was difficult enough to handle but this- Impulsively he placed a hand on the other Prince’s arm. “I saw a foal being born yesterday,” he said. It sounded inane, but it was the first thing that sprang to his mind and he spoke earnestly. “When the weather lets up, I’ll take you to see him. He’s the most amazing thing.” Varian turned towards him and gazed at him for a long moment. Emotions flitted across his face – offense, disbelief, gratitude, yearning, understanding. Suddenly the brown eyes filled with tears and Varian looked away. He folded his arms and hunched in on himself, his shoulders shaking with sobs he did his best to muffle… … “I hate winter,” Varian sobbed, and the depth of his hurt conveyed by those three simple words, a seeming non-sequiteur, humbled Arthas.

Putting aside for a moment, young Varian’s impressive ability to communicate a range of complex emotions in a short space of time using only his face, for God’s sake, you stupid woman, there’s no need for you spell it all out for me. I get it. You don’t have to join the emotional dots with a crayon. A seeming non-sequiteur my seeming arse.

It doesn’t help that it lacks any sort of consistent narrative voice, swinging from an attempt at Tolkeinesque portentousness which inevitably just sounds lame (“long had he lived” or “tall he was”) to an incongruous modernity. Arthas, in particular, sounds like he’s voiced by Keannu Reeves:

“I destroyed your homeland … fouled your precious sunwell. And I killed your father. Frostmourne sucked the soul right out of him, Kael. It’s gone forever.”

Like, totally, duuuude.

As you can see, the dialogue is generally pretty shite (sorry, I’ve lost my objectivity now). Kael’thas, my favourite character in the entirety of WoW canon, is its most tragic victim. A beautiful elven prince, thousands of years old, bizarrely into Jaina Proudmoore (I think because, as we have established, she is the only woman in the entirety of Azeroth), cultured, sophisticated, tremendously intelligent, and, ultimately, terrible tragic as Arthas’s destruction of his people reduces him to utter madness. He spends much of the book pouting and sulking after Jaina, flouncing out of rooms in “a swirl of violet of gold” (way not to look gay, Kael), throwing hissy fits and bickering with Arthas. His dialogue encompasses such immortal gems as

“In Quel’Thalas, there are trees that tower over these in a glory of white bark and golden leaves, that all but sing in the evening breezes. I think you would enjoy seeing them someday” (take me now!) and, rather less impressively, while verbally and literally fighting with Arthas: “You’re good at killing noble elderly men.” All together now: whooooo.

Oh sigh.

And if all that wasn’t bad enough, it’s just somehow plain misjudged a lot of the time. From Arthas’s weirdly homoerotic consumption of the Lich King Ner’Zhul (just, no thanks) to lines like “long had he lived, the length and yellowness of his tusks and the wrinkles on his brown skin testament to the fact.” Yellowness?! What the hell?

Below is a picture of Illidan Stormrage, part demon, part night elf, blind and wholly mad, another of WoW’s iconic figures. Isn’t he kind of fabulous? Wouldn’t you just love to get together with a group of friends and kill him?

Would you at any point, if writing about him, use the phrase: “Sweat gleamed on his massive, lavender-hued torso?” Lavender-hued? LAVENDER-HUED? Lavender is for grandmas and bath oils. Not insane demonic night elves. Come on, Christie Golden, don’t you give a damn what you’re doing?

I could criticise the writing style endlessly but the problems with Arthas: Rise of the Lich King are even more substantial. Again, I understand that writing the story of a life of a character who was probably made up as they went along is probably quite a challenge but I don’t think it alters the fact that the one event constantly cited as the most traumatic and character-defining of Arthas’s entire life is… Actually let’s do a quiz. Is it:

a) That time he murdered his father?

b) That time he killed an entire town of innocent people because they’d been infected with the undead plague?

c) That time he burned the boats of his own army to force them to keep fighting for him?

d) That time the guy he was staying with offered him a serving girl to rape?

e) That time he was picking up Frostmourne and it directly caused the death his mentor and oldest friend?

f) That time he killed Sylvanas Windrunner, turned her into a banshee and rape/tortured her for kicks?

g)The death of his horse.

What the hell? He even has recurring nightmares about it.

(by the way, it’s option g)

Okay, this has degenerated into ranting now. By whatever standards you’re judging it, Arthas: the Rise of Lich King is a bad, bad book. Just because something is a tie-in novel doesn’t mean readers aren’t entitled to flair, conviction, a small scintilla of actual talent. Is there anything good at all I can say about it? Well, the commas are all in the right places.

Themes:

Books

,

Sci-fi / Fantasy

~

bookmark this with - facebook - delicious - digg - stumbleupon - reddit

~Comments (

go to latest

)

Arthur B

at 22:37 on 2009-07-14

Dan has pointed out that we’ve all been to Daggercap Bay so the description doesn’t have to do more than sketch in enough of the details to remind us and, bam, we have a ready-made vivid picture of it. Now maybe I’m just failing to engage with the differences between tie-in fiction and original-setting fiction but is it wrong of me to want just a little bit more effort than this?

That laziness isn't a trope of tie-in fiction, it's a disease of tie-in fiction.

Games Workshop/Black Library, who seem to have a better batting average than most with this sort of thing, seem to work on the assumption that any tie-in novel is potentially someone's first contact with the franchise in question - that's is why they put the classic "laughter of thirsting gods" blurb at the start of all the

Warhammer 40,000

books, after all. This does mean that the authors have to explain who the Space Marines are every time they're introduced in a novel, but it also forces the authors to have some degree of discipline and not Christie Golden the place up.

permalink

-

go to top

Rami

at 22:38 on 2009-07-14The fact that the other prince's name is the same as that of the author of one of my first-year textbooks just highlights the ridiculousness of it all to me; I couldn't take anything seriously past that point.

That having been said, I've read some pretty good tie-in fiction and there's lots of mediocre-but-not-actively-crap tie-in in campaign settings like the Forgotten Realms or Dragonlance, so in my experience at least tie-in fiction's rules aren't that compromised by the rules of whatever they're retelling!

permalink

-

go to top

http://serenoli.livejournal.com/

at 10:46 on 2009-07-15Studying Microeconomics, Rami?

permalink

-

go to top

Shim

at 12:11 on 2009-07-15

Dan has pointed out that we’ve all been to Daggercap Bay so the description doesn’t have to do more than sketch in enough of the details to remind us and, bam, we have a ready-made vivid picture of it.

Actually, I

haven't

been to Daggercap Bay, in fact I know nothing at all about the Warcraft universe except what I've picked up via gaming conversations/blogs/comics. Maybe I should read this thing as a control sample?

permalink

-

go to top

Andy G

at 14:03 on 2009-07-15

The fact that the other prince's name is the same as that of the author of one of my first-year textbooks just highlights the ridiculousness of it all to me; I couldn't take anything seriously past that point.

I misread that, I thought there really was an economics professor called Arthas.

permalink

-

go to top

Rami

at 17:07 on 2009-07-15@serenoli: I'm pleasantly surprised anyone got the reference, although I don't suppose I should be as it's a pretty typical text, isn't it? Certainly everyone I met at my uni on an economics course used it.

I misread that, I thought there really was an economics professor called Arthas.

Well since I used to play Warcraft III I would have loved a textbook I could call the Book of Arthas ;-)

permalink

-

go to top

Wardog

at 14:26 on 2009-07-16@Arthur & Shimmin

Since WoW produces far fewer tie-in novels than the Black Library (those things are taking over Borders, there are shelves of them!), I don't think there's any particularly need to make them "introductory." I suspect the thinking behind it is there's genuinely *utterly no reason* to read a Warcraft novel unless you're already hugely into Warcraft.

I can has macro-enconomics joke?

permalink

-

go to top

Arthur B

at 16:27 on 2009-07-16

Since WoW produces far fewer tie-in novels than the Black Library (those things are taking over Borders, there are shelves of them!), I don't think there's any particularly need to make them "introductory." I suspect the thinking behind it is there's genuinely *utterly no reason* to read a Warcraft novel unless you're already hugely into Warcraft.

That's precisely the sort of thinking that tie-in franchises get stuck in, of course: they don't write for newcomers because they don't expect any newcomers to buy the books, and as a result no newcomers buy the books, which discourages the publishers from producing more and discourages the writers from writing for newcomers, and you end up with a vicious circle which results in the novel line ghettoising itself. (It gets particularly bad when the authors and/or publishers also believe that the audience for the franchise is too stupid or too loyal to care about quality, and so can't be bothered to write well.)

I think Black Library managed to become huge in a way that the previous Games Workshop book line never was at least partially because they were able to rid themselves of that thinking, and made a conscious decision to a) try their damnedest to be accessible to newcomers without patronising hardcore fans, and b) not regard the fans as morons who will buy anything with the Warhammer logo on the cover. I strongly suspect that the later volumes of

Konrad

didn't match the potential of the first one at least partially because neither author nor publisher really gave a crap about what they were producing.

permalink

-

go to top

http://fightsandtights.blogspot.com/

at 07:05 on 2009-09-30

That's precisely the sort of thinking that tie-in franchises get stuck in, of course: they don't write for newcomers because they don't expect any newcomers to buy the books, and as a result no newcomers buy the books, which discourages the publishers from producing more and discourages the writers from writing for newcomers, and you end up with a vicious circle which results in the novel line ghettoising itself. (It gets particularly bad when the authors and/or publishers also believe that the audience for the franchise is too stupid or too loyal to care about quality, and so can't be bothered to write well.) I think Black Library managed to become huge in a way that the previous Games Workshop book line never was at least partially because they were able to rid themselves of that thinking, and made a conscious decision to a) try their damnedest to be accessible to newcomers without patronising hardcore fans, and b) not regard the fans as morons who will buy anything with the Warhammer logo on the cover. I strongly suspect that the later volumes of Konrad didn't match the potential of the first one at least partially because neither author nor publisher really gave a crap about what they were producing.

You raise an excellent point here, and it's one worth considering. Despite WoW's massive fanbase (as well as the fanbases of their other universes), Blizzard just really focuses on writing novels for the existing fans, not in bringing in new ones. A good deal of their tie-in fiction are simply novelizations of the games in some capacity or prequels to upcoming stuff, and unlike Games Workshop, they rarely give the writers a chance to produce original stuff within the confines of these worlds they have created, though they are getting a bit better at it. As well, one of the things that Games Workshop really excels at with their tie-in fiction is that they take more risks and allow the writers to investigate and play with their creative properties much more frequently.

This also leads to a greater depth of genre material, for example, you can find Warhammer stories that involve big quests and swash-buckling adventures (Gotrex and Felix), detective stories (Zavant Konniger), horror (Vampire Genevive), etc. Now Blizzard is expanding a bit, particularly with their manga works, but they are still a long way off from getting anything close to the Black Library's level of quality, range and depth.

One of the major problems I had with this story was the lack of epic scope that I would expect for a novelization of much of Warcraft III, and it's a problem that Blizzard's novels seem to be running into frequently these days. Part of that is simply the transition from an interactive visual-based medium to a non-interactive text-based one (unless you count throwing the book against the wall a point of interaction), but honestly, Golden could not seem to capture the intensity and the epic nature of the many of the events she was writing about. Take the Siege of Hearthglen, for example. In the game, it's a mighty 30-min last stand against an overwhelming horde of flesh-eating nasties, and about a third of the way through, you're faced with the choice to save a series of nearby villages, possibly gaining an expansion town and preventing the undead from massing even more troops with the risk of possibly losing your main base because your forces are stretched too thin. In the novel, Golden doesn't bother to show it, beyond transcribing the start and end cutscenes to novel format. It's like the writers Blizzard has hired to write these books say to themselves, "I have to write battle scenes, intense drama, and make the reader feel like this stuff matters? Fuck it. Let's talk about Arthas' horse." I'm half-expecting when the inevitable novel chronicling the Exodus to Kalimdor and the events of the second half of WCIII comes out, the Battle of Mount Hyjal will be reduced to a schoolyard slapfight between Archimonde and Stormrage. Perhaps not the biggest problem with the book overall, but one of many, and as a major Warcraft fan, one that really stuck in my craw.

permalink

-

go to top

Wardog

at 12:19 on 2009-10-05Hello there - welcome to Fb.

I don't much to say really except: yes, I agree with you entirely :)

The novel really does feel, and read, like a cutscene - I think because she makes no attempt to engage with the interactive elements of the game. So what you end up is a book that's basically a string of cutscenes. Wheeee.

It's a shame becaus the Arthas story does have a lot of potential, as you say, for drama and intensity.

permalink

-

go to top

http://fightsandtights.blogspot.com/

at 13:39 on 2009-10-23

Hello there - welcome to Fb. I don't much to say really except: yes, I agree with you entirely :) The novel really does feel, and read, like a cutscene - I think because she makes no attempt to engage with the interactive elements of the game. So what you end up is a book that's basically a string of cutscenes. Wheeee. It's a shame becaus the Arthas story does have a lot of potential, as you say, for drama and intensity.

Many thanks for the warm welcome, and glad to hear I had something useful to contribute.

One of the things that really struck me when I was reading this novel was that Golden's writing skills seem to have dramatically declined since she wrote Lord of the Clans. That was a pretty good tie-in novel that worked both as a Warcraft story and a general high-fantasy one, and I'm considering doing a review of it for this site. Reading Rise of the Lich King, I had a uncannily similar feeling when I read the sixth Harry Potter book, namely, "Who is this woman and where has she stashed away the writer I had come to love?" Or just like, in this case...

[libertariantaoist]

America's abundance was not created by public sacrifices to the common good, but by the productive genius of free men who pursued their own personal interests and the making of their own private fortunes.

Do not consider Collectivists as "sincere but deluded idealists". The proposal to enslave some men for the sake of others is not an ideal; brutality is not "idealistic," no matter what its purpose. Do not ever say that the desire to "do good" by force is a good motive. Neither power-lust nor stupidity are good motives.

I am interested in politics so that one day I will not have to be interested in politics.

There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible to live without breaking laws.

Either we believe that the State exists to serve the individual or the individual exists to serve the State. -from Letters of Ayn Rand

Racism negates two aspects of man’s life: reason and choice, or mind and morality, replacing them with chemical predestination. ... A genius is a genius, regardless of the number of morons who belong to the same race -- and a moron is a moron, regardless of the number of geniuses who share his racial origin.

The government was set to protect man from criminals, and the Constitution was written to protect man from the government.

The man who produces while others dispose of his product is a slave.

A society that robs an individual of the product of his effort - is not strictly speaking a society, but a mob held together by institutionalized gang violence.

The only proper purpose of a government is to protect man's rights, which means: to protect him from physical violence.

The smallest minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities.

The government's only proper job is to protect individual rights against violence by force or fraud - to protect men from foreign invaders - to settle disputes among men according to objective laws - The greatness of the Founding Fathers was how well they understood this issue and how close some of them came to understanding it perfectly.

The Constitution is a limitation on the government, not on private individuals. It does not prescribe the conduct of private individuals, only the conduct of the government. It is not a charter for government power, but a charter of the citizens' protection against the government.

The meaning ascribed in popular usage to the word 'selfishness' is not merely wrong: it represents a devastating intellectual 'package-deal,' which is responsible, more than any other single factor, for the arrested moral development of mankind.

Statism survives by looting; a free country survives by production.

What is the basic, the essential, the crucial principle that differentiates freedom from slavery? It is the principle of voluntary action versus physical coercion or compulsion.

Every movement that seeks to enslave a country, every dictatorship or potential dictatorship, needs some minority group as a scapegoat which it can blame for the nation's troubles and use as a justification of its own demand for dictatorial powers. In Soviet Russia, the scapegoat was the bourgeoisie; in Nazi Germany, it was the Jewish people; in America, it is the businessmen.

If workers struggle for higher wages, this is hailed as "social gains", if businessmen struggle for higher profits, this is damned as "selfish greed".

It is a free market that makes monopolies impossible.

Since there is no such entity as "the public," since the public is merely a number of individuals, the idea that "the public interest" supersedes private interests and rights can have but one meaning: that the interests and rights of some individuals take precedence over the interests and rights of others.

Every coercive monopoly was created by government intervention into the economy: by special privileges, such as franchises or subsidies, which closed the entry of competitors into a given field, by legislative action.

It stands to reason that where there's sacrifice, there's someone collecting sacrificial offerings. Where there's service, there's someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters. And intends to be the master.

The degree of a country's freedom is the degree of its prosperity.

There is no difference between communism and socialism, except in the means of achieving the same ultimate end: communism proposes to enslave men by force, socialism -- by vote. It is merely the difference between murder and suicide.

Capitalism has created the highest standard of living ever known on earth. The evidence is incontrovertible. The contrast between West and East Berlin is the latest demonstration, like a laboratory experiment for all to see. Yet those who are loudest in proclaiming their desire to eliminate poverty are loudest in denouncing capitalism. Man's well-being is not their goal.

Read More

[libertariantaoist]

America's abundance was not created by public sacrifices to the common good, but by the productive genius of free men who pursued their own personal interests and the making of their own private fortunes.

Do not consider Collectivists as "sincere but deluded idealists". The proposal to enslave some men for the sake of others is not an ideal; brutality is not "idealistic," no matter what its purpose. Do not ever say that the desire to "do good" by force is a good motive. Neither power-lust nor stupidity are good motives.

I am interested in politics so that one day I will not have to be interested in politics.

There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible to live without breaking laws.

Either we believe that the State exists to serve the individual or the individual exists to serve the State. -from Letters of Ayn Rand

Racism negates two aspects of man’s life: reason and choice, or mind and morality, replacing them with chemical predestination. ... A genius is a genius, regardless of the number of morons who belong to the same race -- and a moron is a moron, regardless of the number of geniuses who share his racial origin.

The government was set to protect man from criminals, and the Constitution was written to protect man from the government.

The man who produces while others dispose of his product is a slave.

A society that robs an individual of the product of his effort - is not strictly speaking a society, but a mob held together by institutionalized gang violence.

The only proper purpose of a government is to protect man's rights, which means: to protect him from physical violence.

The smallest minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities.

The government's only proper job is to protect individual rights against violence by force or fraud - to protect men from foreign invaders - to settle disputes among men according to objective laws - The greatness of the Founding Fathers was how well they understood this issue and how close some of them came to understanding it perfectly.

The Constitution is a limitation on the government, not on private individuals. It does not prescribe the conduct of private individuals, only the conduct of the government. It is not a charter for government power, but a charter of the citizens' protection against the government.

The meaning ascribed in popular usage to the word 'selfishness' is not merely wrong: it represents a devastating intellectual 'package-deal,' which is responsible, more than any other single factor, for the arrested moral development of mankind.

Statism survives by looting; a free country survives by production.

What is the basic, the essential, the crucial principle that differentiates freedom from slavery? It is the principle of voluntary action versus physical coercion or compulsion.

Every movement that seeks to enslave a country, every dictatorship or potential dictatorship, needs some minority group as a scapegoat which it can blame for the nation's troubles and use as a justification of its own demand for dictatorial powers. In Soviet Russia, the scapegoat was the bourgeoisie; in Nazi Germany, it was the Jewish people; in America, it is the businessmen.

If workers struggle for higher wages, this is hailed as "social gains", if businessmen struggle for higher profits, this is damned as "selfish greed".

It is a free market that makes monopolies impossible.

Since there is no such entity as "the public," since the public is merely a number of individuals, the idea that "the public interest" supersedes private interests and rights can have but one meaning: that the interests and rights of some individuals take precedence over the interests and rights of others.

Every coercive monopoly was created by government intervention into the economy: by special privileges, such as franchises or subsidies, which closed the entry of competitors into a given field, by legislative action.

It stands to reason that where there's sacrifice, there's someone collecting sacrificial offerings. Where there's service, there's someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters. And intends to be the master.

The degree of a country's freedom is the degree of its prosperity.

There is no difference between communism and socialism, except in the means of achieving the same ultimate end: communism proposes to enslave men by force, socialism -- by vote. It is merely the difference between murder and suicide.

Capitalism has created the highest standard of living ever known on earth. The evidence is incontrovertible. The contrast between West and East Berlin is the latest demonstration, like a laboratory experiment for all to see. Yet those who are loudest in proclaiming their desire to eliminate poverty are loudest in denouncing capitalism. Man's well-being is not their goal.

Read More

[libertariantaoist]

America's abundance was not created by public sacrifices to the common good, but by the productive genius of free men who pursued their own personal interests and the making of their own private fortunes.

Do not consider Collectivists as "sincere but deluded idealists". The proposal to enslave some men for the sake of others is not an ideal; brutality is not "idealistic," no matter what its purpose. Do not ever say that the desire to "do good" by force is a good motive. Neither power-lust nor stupidity are good motives.

I am interested in politics so that one day I will not have to be interested in politics.

There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible to live without breaking laws.

Either we believe that the State exists to serve the individual or the individual exists to serve the State. -from Letters of Ayn Rand

Racism negates two aspects of man’s life: reason and choice, or mind and morality, replacing them with chemical predestination. ... A genius is a genius, regardless of the number of morons who belong to the same race -- and a moron is a moron, regardless of the number of geniuses who share his racial origin.

The government was set to protect man from criminals, and the Constitution was written to protect man from the government.

The man who produces while others dispose of his product is a slave.

A society that robs an individual of the product of his effort - is not strictly speaking a society, but a mob held together by institutionalized gang violence.

The only proper purpose of a government is to protect man's rights, which means: to protect him from physical violence.

The smallest minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities.

The government's only proper job is to protect individual rights against violence by force or fraud - to protect men from foreign invaders - to settle disputes among men according to objective laws - The greatness of the Founding Fathers was how well they understood this issue and how close some of them came to understanding it perfectly.

The Constitution is a limitation on the government, not on private individuals. It does not prescribe the conduct of private individuals, only the conduct of the government. It is not a charter for government power, but a charter of the citizens' protection against the government.

The meaning ascribed in popular usage to the word 'selfishness' is not merely wrong: it represents a devastating intellectual 'package-deal,' which is responsible, more than any other single factor, for the arrested moral development of mankind.

Statism survives by looting; a free country survives by production.

What is the basic, the essential, the crucial principle that differentiates freedom from slavery? It is the principle of voluntary action versus physical coercion or compulsion.

Every movement that seeks to enslave a country, every dictatorship or potential dictatorship, needs some minority group as a scapegoat which it can blame for the nation's troubles and use as a justification of its own demand for dictatorial powers. In Soviet Russia, the scapegoat was the bourgeoisie; in Nazi Germany, it was the Jewish people; in America, it is the businessmen.

If workers struggle for higher wages, this is hailed as "social gains", if businessmen struggle for higher profits, this is damned as "selfish greed".

It is a free market that makes monopolies impossible.

Since there is no such entity as "the public," since the public is merely a number of individuals, the idea that "the public interest" supersedes private interests and rights can have but one meaning: that the interests and rights of some individuals take precedence over the interests and rights of others.

Every coercive monopoly was created by government intervention into the economy: by special privileges, such as franchises or subsidies, which closed the entry of competitors into a given field, by legislative action.

It stands to reason that where there's sacrifice, there's someone collecting sacrificial offerings. Where there's service, there's someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters. And intends to be the master.

The degree of a country's freedom is the degree of its prosperity.

There is no difference between communism and socialism, except in the means of achieving the same ultimate end: communism proposes to enslave men by force, socialism -- by vote. It is merely the difference between murder and suicide.

Capitalism has created the highest standard of living ever known on earth. The evidence is incontrovertible. The contrast between West and East Berlin is the latest demonstration, like a laboratory experiment for all to see. Yet those who are loudest in proclaiming their desire to eliminate poverty are loudest in denouncing capitalism. Man's well-being is not their goal.

Read More