#our unending journey comic

[nozomimi01]

made OUJ fanart a couple days ago and finally decided to post it on all my socials

go read Our Unending Journey, it's an original retelling of the ffxiv story but with 4 wols, and the art and storytelling are absolutely amazing!!!!

it's available on both tapas & webtoon!

[seashellblue]

Okay. Hopefully it's alright if I contribute and / or hijack this post with a big 'ol list of 'comics with no Batman in them'

Some indie, some very much not ~

Monstress, by Sana Takeda and Marjorie Liu

"Steampunk meets Kaiju in this original fantasy epic for mature readers, as young Maika risks everything to control her psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, placing her in the center of a devastating war between human and otherworldly forces."

Nimona, by ND Stevenson

"Nimona is an impulsive young shapeshifter with a knack for villainy. Lord Ballister Blackheart is a villain with a vendetta. As sidekick and supervillain, Nimona and Lord Blackheart are about to wreak some serious havoc. Their mission: prove to the kingdom that Sir Ambrosius Goldenloin and his buddies at the Institution of Law Enforcement and Heroics aren't the heroes everyone thinks they are.

But as small acts of mischief escalate into a vicious battle, Lord Blackheart realizes that Nimona's powers are as murky and mysterious as her past. And her unpredictable wild side might be more dangerous than he is willing to admit."

Wilde Life, by Pascalle Lepas

"Oscar rented an old house off craigslist, then things got weird...

First it was meeting the ghost of a 1940s mathematician in the upstairs hallway, then it was finding a teenage werewolf in the bathtub. Now Oscar doesn't know what will show up next. Maybe that's okay, as long as nothing eats him."

How To Be A Werewolf, by Shawn Lenore

"Since being bitten by a strange wolf as a child, Malaya Walters has attempted to live a quiet life…hopefully a life free of attempting to eat her family or the customers at her family’s coffee shop. Being the only werewolf she’s ever known, Malaya has managed her condition by keeping tight control on herself and the world around her, with lackluster results. That is, until a strange guy wanders into her shop one day and introduces her to a whole world she never knew existed…"

Hearts For Sale, by Miyuli

"Would you like to buy a heart?

A young gentleman hopes he can have his heart repaired by the Heartsmith."

Glass Scientists, by Sage Cotugno, with assistance from Julia Elliot, Lucy Xue, Bryce Sochiratna, and Tiina Purin

"The city of London is not the safest place for mad scientists. Thirty years after the death of the infamous Dr. Frankenstein, its citizens have gotten awfully good at killing monsters, destroying laboratories, and generally wrecking anything new or strange-looking. Soon, every scientist within city limits will find themselves behind bars, unless someone can turn their luck around.

That someone is a respected gentleman and socialite—who also happens to be a scientist himself! He believes that mad science (or “rogue science,” as he prefers) could flourish in London if only it could improve its reputation in the public eye, and he plans to give it one hell of an image makeover. With the help of a ragtag group of scientists from across the globe, he plans to end the reign of fear and superstition that has held London captive for decades . . . so long as no one discovers his one little secret, a secret that could ruin him and unravel the lives of everyone he knows.

This man’s name is Dr. Henry Jekyll."

Countdown To Countdown, by Xiao Tong Kong, with assistance from Meintaikoo and Maddie

"In the year 2044, “Demifloras”- humans that have developed inhuman abilities, are targeted and harvested for their pricey body parts. Iris Black, a Demiflora that possesses the ability to bring his drawings to life, is sheltered in a correctional facility that houses Demifloras. Outcasted for his inability to suppress his powers, he yearns to find a place that accepts him for who he is. His chance comes one night when a daring outsider sneaks into the lab."

Goth Western, by Livali Wyle

"For the mysterious gunslinger known only as "Jack," Love's Saloon is a haven in the desert, not least due to the presence of the charming proprietress, Evelyn Love. When Evelyn is killed in a shootout, Jack sells her soul to the God of Doomed Lovers to bring her back. The two must then embark on a mission: to deliver the god's bloody vengeance to a man who's been hunting the god's other chosen."

Aurora, by Red

"A ragtag crew of heroes embark on a journey to rescue a god from an immortal witch, stop a dragon from breaking the world, and maybe even talk about their feelings once in a while."

Through The Woods, by Emily Caroll

"Journey through the woods in this sinister, compellingly spooky collection that features four brand-new stories and one phenomenally popular tale in print for the first time. These are fairy tales gone seriously wrong, where you can travel to “Our Neighbor’s House”—though coming back might be a problem. Or find yourself a young bride in a house that holds a terrible secret in “A Lady’s Hands Are Cold.” You might try to figure out what is haunting “My Friend Janna,” or discover that your brother’s fiancée may not be what she seems in “The Nesting Place.” And of course you must revisit the horror of “His Face All Red,” the breakout webcomic hit that has been gorgeously translated to the printed page."

Our Unending Journey, by Saba Sabaton

"Four heroes make their way in the world of Final Fantasy XIV.

This is an independent fanwork, and a labor of love. It is not associated with Square Enix."

The Little Trashmaid, by s0s2

"Find out what a mermaid faces in the modern world and dive with Tidy into this ocean of… waste!

Have fun with her misadventures (and remember not to pollute)!

A bittersweet comic for all ages!"

Estranged, by Ethan M. Aldridge

"Edmund and the Childe were swapped at birth. Now Edmund lives in secret as a changeling in the World Above, his fae powers hidden from his unsuspecting parents and his older sister, Alexis. The Childe lives among the fae in the World Below, where being a human makes him a curiosity at the royal palace.

But when the cruel sorceress Hawthorne seizes the throne, the Childe and Edmund must unite on a dangerous quest to save both worlds—even if they’re not sure which world they belong to."

Novae, by Jen and Kate

"It is 17th century France, the age of discovery and scientific revolution. Sulvain, a mysterious traveler, is absorbed in the Parisian academic scene. Through his friendship with the renowned Christiaan Huygens, Sulvain has the chance to study the latest discoveries of the distant cosmos. Deep in the library of Academy of Sciences, however, our traveler will meet Huygen's apprentice--Raziol Quamar--who will truly spark new lights in Sulvain's universe."

Inhabitant Of Another Planet, by Jen and Kate

"A prequel to Novae, "Inhabitant" is a story of personal discovery set at the dawn of the Age of Enlightenment.

Raziol Qamar is the assistant and apprentice to the great astronomer Christiaan Huygens in Paris in the mid-17th century. While Huygens has welcomed Raz into the scientific community, he nevertheless feels like an eternal outsider, always seen as a foreigner and an exotic novelty, in spite of all his years in the city. Or at least that is until a chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets his life on a new course…"

A Dance With Death, by Crystal Yates

"It’s the eve of the Apocalypse, and the personified vices of mankind are throwing a ball to celebrate. The Four Horsemen are naturally the guests of honour, but while Famine, War, and Pestilence are thrilled to be there, Death is not.

Try as they might, they can’t convince him to dance with anyone. But it is a ball and he must dance with someone. So… who will Death deign to dance with?"

Demon's Mirror, by Harry Bogosian

"Demon's Mirror is a retelling of The Snow Queen, an old fable by Hans Christian Andersen. This version has a lot more demons, magic, and *friendship*. Gerda still attempts to rescue her friend Kay, only now things go increasingly off the rails."

A Better Place, by Harry Bogosian

"A Better Place follows two young children who each get a wish. One wishes for the ability to fly, shoot laser beams, and explode! The other wishes to be able to create anything she can image. One hundred years later she is ruling the world as an immortal god, and her advisor must find a way to stop her before her actions destroy the world."

Critical Role: Vox Machina Origins, by Matthew Mercer, Matthew Colville, Olivia Samson, Stjepan Sejic, and Chris Northrop

"The band of adventurers known as Vox Machina will save the world. Eventually. But even they have to start somewhere.

Six would-be heroes on seemingly different jobs find their paths intertwined as they investigate shady business in the swamp town of Stilben. They'll need to put their heads--and weapons--together to figure out whats going on...and keep from being killed in the process."

Critical Role: The Mighty Nein Origins--Mollymauk Tealeaf, by Jody Houser, Hunter Severn Bonyun, Cathy Le, and Ariana Maher

"What strange events created Mollymauk Tealeaf?

Entertainer, fighter, and performer, "Molly" has a knack for hiding his true self behind the shifting color and shape of a personality he seems to wear like his singular coat. But as with every member of The Mighty Nein, his past will eventually catch up with him . . . and it's a strange one indeed."

Critical Role: The Tales of Exandria Volume 1--The Bright Queen, by Matthew Mercer, Darcy van Poelgeest, CoupleOfKooks, Helen Mask, Cris Peter, and Ariana Maher

"Leylas Kryn, the Bright Queen, has spent multiple lives in pursuit of assembling the otherworldly Luxon. So, when another piece appears nearby, Leylas sends her eternal lover Quana to collect it . . . with consequences that may threaten the entire Dynasty! Hope for the future clashes with darkness from the past in a stellar new story from the world of Critical Role!"

Invincible, by Robert Kirkman, Ryan Ottley, and John Rauch

"Mark Grayson is teenage superhero Invincible. He was a normal high school senior with a normal part-time job and otherwise normal life, except his father Nolan is the superhero Omni-Man, the most powerful superhero on the planet. At the age of 17, Mark begins to display superpowers, which come from his father being a member of the Viltrumite race, who, according to Nolan, pioneer the galaxy on a mission of benevolence and enlightenment."

Doctor Strange: The Oath, by Brian K. Vaughan and Marcos Martin

"Doctor Stephen Strange embarks on the most important paranormal investigation of his career, as he sets out to solve an attempted murder - his own! And with his most trusted friend also at death's door, Strange turns to an unexpected corner of the Marvel Universe to recruit a new ally."

there are beautiful comics out there that have very little or even nothing to do with batman. and we can read them.

[liesonthefloordramatically]

A wild 2024 recap post appears!

Stuff I made this year:

Fiction: Nope. Did write like 13k but none of it is ready to be publicly read and I haven't written anything since, like, June or July. Someday I will write and post things again. Unfortunately, The Exhaustion.

Playlists: It looks like I only finished/posted publicly three playlists this year: Amber (a playlist for my Wickedness character), Vyv (a playlist for my yumgeon character--cc referred to this as "chuuni music," which is correct), and watch the new day rise (a playlist for when you are watching the sun rise immediately after bawling your eyes out).

Knitting: Made a huge blanket. Am now making a second huge blanket.

Other stuff: Had two academic pieces published! Was a discussant at an academic conference for the first time! Did too much fieldwork! Taught 5 classes, 3 of which were new preps! Passed my mid-point review for tenure! Got COVID-19 twice despite masking everywhere and got extremely ill both times! Cultivated a truly wild reputation with my uni's library staff! Have somehow wound up with a devoted fan club of students??? Had a truly emotionally and physically exhausting fall semester, to the extent that I've done basically nothing the last two weeks in an attempt to recuperate.

Media I enjoyed this year:

Books: I read a lot this year--I think the most for fun since I started college (58 books). Favorites of the year, in no particular order: Teixcalaan series (PLEASE read this), The Broken Earth Trilogy, The Spear Cuts Through Water, The House in the Cerulean Sea, The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher, Bury Your Gays, Someone You Can Build a Nest In, and Wind and Truth. Special category is "books that are good on their own merits but due to what was going on in my life when I read them they absolutely shredded me": Somewhere Beyond the Sea and Something That Will Shock and Discredit You.

TTRPG: yumgeon is the winner, but unfortunately since that's homebrew there is no way for anyone outside our group play it. We just played Doing the Job and it rules, but unfortunately has extremely janky formatting (since it's early access). I am also one session into a game of Mothership, and it's very fun so far, although there have only been two rolls so far, so can't speak too much to the mechanics.

Video games: The only new game I personally played this year is Hades 2, which is good but also is early access. I am partway through a (long-distance) group playthrough of Metaphor: ReFantazio, which is shockingly good so far.

Manga/comics: Have read a bunch of Witch Hat Atelier and it is great! Also enjoyed X-Gender and My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness.

Fanfic: Really did not read a ton this year, due to reading a lot of books. Some recs: The Bone That Has No Marrow (CR: Echoes of the Solstice), Gravity, and all that's born within (CR C2), ForTheRepublic.mp4 (Star Wars Prequel Trilogy), john doe (JJBA: VA), write a line, erase a line (CR C2), how will the morning find you (CR C2), there are many benefits to attending marine biology classes at florida international university (ostensibly) (JJBA).

Films: I watched The Green Knight on a plane; it was good but a plane is not where you should watch it. Otherwise, I think the only new movies I watched this year were documentaries that I was teaching--favorites: The Departure and Who Killed Vincent Chin?

TV: Frieren: Beyond Journey's End, although...still not done with it... Also finished season 2 of TGCF with Rowan and it was a delight.

Podcasts:  Listened to an obscene number of these again this year--apparently 44 days worth, and that's just the ones through my podcast app. Top picks: The Silt Verses and Midst. It's not even close. PLEASE listen to them. Also recs: Midnight Burger, Unwell, Unend, Worlds Beyond Number, Neon Inkwell: The Pit Below Paradise, and World Gone Wrong. Special category is "musical podcasts that made me feel mildly unhinged despite being as different from each other as you can get": 36 Questions and The Fall of the House of Sunshine.

Music: Apparently my top song of the year on Spotify was 「��れてください」 which sure says...something about my mental state. As usual, most of my top tracks on Spotify were songs I listened to on loop while in a fugue state (grading). Albums I listened to a lot this year: USA by Petey, Expert in a Dying Field by The Beths, The Birdwatcher's Guide to Atrocity by Seeming, The Dancefloor at the End of the Universe by Tom Cardy, and yorushika's entire discography. Single song I listened to the most while seething on public transit was 「だから僕は音楽を辞めた」, naturally.

Anyway, あけおめ！！！ 良いお年をお迎え下さいますようお祈り申し上��ます。(maybe if I use 丁寧 enough 敬語 2025 won't completely flatten us all)

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 139: Lars of the Stars

“Bingo Bongo.”

On Saturday, January 22, 2011, a character from the webcomic Homestuck was suddenly killed. On Sunday, the scene continued, and in a string of wordless panels, another beloved character prepared to take revenge for this murder. On Monday, this character was also killed, and the murderer escaped. (I didn’t remember those dates on the top of my head, Homestuck has a very well-maintained archive, but I do at least remember that it was my first weekend back at William and Mary after my junior year’s winter break.)

To this day, that one-two punch remains my go-to example of a nameless phenomenon in serialized storytelling that fascinates me to no end: when reading Homestuck in real time, these deaths are two discrete events that happened days apart, but when reading it literally any time the after full string of updates concluded, both deaths are one big event. The gap between published segments of a serial have a tremendous effect on how the audience takes in a story, but once the story is complete, that effect can’t be felt again by new audiences.

Lars of the Stars aired just over seven months after Lars’s Head, and as someone who watched Steven Universe live since the pilot first dropped, it felt like the momentous return of the Off Colors. An ultra-early preview of the episode piled on the hype for the fanbase (I personally avoided discussion of it, not wanting to spoil myself), and the Breakup Arc made the divide seem even greater. But if you’re watching all the episodes in a row, the gap between Lars’s last appearance and this one is just 66 minutes; for context, that’s shorter than the time between Spinel landing on Earth and leaving it with the Diamonds.

I see Lars of the Stars as a very different episode today than I did when it debuted, and that’s fully because of the release schedule. Because while it remains a fresh, fun new direction after dwelling on the Breakup Arc for a few months and waiting on Lars to come back for even longer, watching it without the hiatus makes it clear that this isn’t just the start of a new chapter. It’s also an epilogue.

The fourteen episodes between Doug Out and Kevin Party pile on so much tension that we need a follow-up that feels like a break, which Lars of the Stars is happy to provide. But that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate how far our characters have come during that chunk of episodes, and that’s exactly what happens here. Part 1 of the big stretch ends with Steven leaving everyone behind as he goes to space, and now we get an episode about him returning to space but including Connie in the way he should have from the start. Part 2 of the big stretch ends with the Off Colors trapped on Homeworld with little hope in sight, and now we get an episode about their freewheeling lives among the stars. And Part 3 of the big stretch ends with Steven and Connie establishing a new understanding of their relationship, and now we get an episode where they share what they’ve learned with the class.

In our last episode, Connie showed an ability to socialize without Steven. While this makes him worry that she might only be at Kevin’s titular party to have a good time rather than reconnect, the furthest he goes in terms of dark thoughts is that she doesn’t wanna hang out with him anymore. Meanwhile, Lars takes Sadie’s similar ability so socialize without him as a personal insult: his instinct is to assume she’s hanging out with the Cool Kids as an act of revenge, because it turns out people don’t just flip personalities after major life events, and despite some tremendous changes Lars still has work to do. (This is something that happens more and more as the show goes on, it’s almost as if the perpetual need to work on yourself is a major theme of the latter-day series or something.)

Stevonnie’s ability to help Lars out works in any episode, because Stevonnie embodies close relationships and Lars could use some tips on that front. But the fact that their defense of Sadie in this situation is what causes Steven and Connie to fuse in the first place gains new power when this it comes right after watching Kevin Party, because feeling uncertain about a friend/love interest’s new friends is something they just experienced both sides of. And as one last reflection of the kids as individuals, Steven reacts to Lars’s concerns with a thoughtful monologue about his feelings, but only after Connie chews him out for being such a dingus.

It’s lousy to be possessive and self-absorbed, but for all my criticism of Lars in the past, it’s not as if he’s the only teenager to be possessive or self-absorbed in the world (or space). That doesn’t make the behavior great, but it’s more a sign of adolescent insecurity than any deeper failing at this stage of his life; if he doesn’t grow out of it then that’s a whole other story, but his negative impulses are outweighed by his ability to take criticism of those impulses and reexamine his outlook. And as part of a show that teaches big lessons to kids, I love that his poor reaction to Sadie’s happiness is presented not as some angsty relationship hurdle, but as comically pathetic. Matthew Moy has a blast playing a version of the character who’s finally confident, but he hasn’t forgotten how to tap into Lars’s whiny grouch.

Thankfully that confidence defines the rest of the episode (which itself lends power to the stark return to his old personality). I don’t just say “thankfully” because I’m glad he’s got some self-esteem, but because like I just said, Matthew Moy has a blast. This is the goofiest episode we’ve had since The New Crystal Gems, and while I’m sure it’s even better for anime fans out there (Space Pirate Captain Harlock being the clearest influence) it still works for scrubs like me without that reference pool. Which is critical, as I doubt many members of the youth audience are all caught up on their late seventies anime.

Excellent pacing helps the fun hit for maximum impact, pivoting us from Kevin Party to space with a brisk opening scene and reintroducing characters not through exposition (which takes time) but on-screen text (which is faster and also magnificently cheesy; Lamar Abrams practiced this in Restaurant Wars). We use space jargon and references to old adventures to throw us in the middle of Lars’s journey in a quick and believable way, all the while building up the camaraderie between the Off Colors. His miniature breakdown would normally be a third act affair, allowing for its resolution to conclude the story, but instead it’s smack in the middle of the episode and we get a bunch more fun after it: it’s an important part of the story that informs Lars’s final gambit, but it’s not the main set piece.

(And, of course, the music remains as on point as ever: Aivi and Surasshu give the Sun Incinerator a punchy theme that complements those introductions perfectly, and revisit the motif heard in the Love Like You reprise, Holly Blue Agate’s scenes, and the drone attacks from Off Colors during this new foray into space. I don’t think it’s even possible for these two to disappoint.)

Confident Lars is marvel to behold, because it’s the real deal. His insecurities are still there, but rather than patching them up with a superiority complex (which so often is the case when insecure folks go too hard in building themselves up) he doesn’t feel the need to put on a front anymore. He’s cocky, but he loves his crew for who they are and is never as mean to them as he was to Steven, even as a joke. His exaggerated anime poses aren’t just dopey and delightful for the sake of being dopey and delightful, but show a newfound ability to have fun without being crippled by self-consciousness. And his zany schemes, shouted about by Emerald at first but then seen in action, actually work! He comes into his own as a space pirate, and as neat as it is to see him become a baker when he returns to Earth, Lars of the Stars makes a strong case for a life in space.

Speaking of Emerald, while I’m sure a lot of folks who hyped themselves up on Lars of the Stars were disappointed that this is all we see of her (especially because emeralds are big-name gemstones in the real world), I think her single appearance makes the episode even more of a hoot. This is not Steven’s story, so we get very little frame of reference for what the Off Colors have been up to: it feels like a crossover episode with a nonexistent spinoff. Having a small glimpse into the greater journey was a great call, because this is just one of many tales from the Sun Incinerator’s sterling crew, and it keeps up the thread of Steven being out of the loop on Lars and Sadie’s lives.

It also lets Jinkx Monsoon ham it up even harder than Moy without getting bogged down by character complexity. This is a ridiculous space adventure, and that tone is heightened by a baddie who doesn’t chew so much as gorge herself on the scenery. I mean, this is still Steven Universe, so even someone as over the top as Emerald gets a tiny arc: Lars seems to be the instigator of their rivalry, and while we side with the Off Colors because they’re the underdogs escaping persecution, Emerald has legitimate reasons to see herself as the wronged party. And Lars’s realization that she would never fire on her own ship doesn’t just work as a conclusion to his story, showing that he learned a lesson from his bitterness towards Sadie, but for Emerald’s, showing that while she wants her revenge she more just wants her stuff back. But this is still an opponent who we only see screaming from a screen, and that’s exactly what this episode needs.

The Off Color Gems stick to the characterization that defined them in their debut, but they’ve all let their guard down in a way that suggests both familiarity with Lars and relief from the unending pressure of a lifetime of hiding on Homeworld. We get a few good jokes from their roles on the ship, but their competence is never undermined. It’s funny that Padparadscha is a technical advisor, considering she only offers insight on events that already happened, but she ends up being able to foresee Emerald’s intent as well, which certainly has its uses. It’s funny that Fluorite is the chief engineer, considering her meandering nature doesn’t mesh with the tight time windows of keeping a speedy starship afloat, but despite her slowness she manages to keep pace. It’s funny that Rhodonite is head of strategic operations, considering her usual strategy is to panic at the most minor setback, but her constant worry about what could go wrong helps balance out Lars’s recklessness. While while the Rutile Twins’ natures aren’t at odds with their role as pilot, they’ve grown out of their quirk more than anyone else on the team: the sisters have branched out from their repetitive dialogue, with each head now expressing separate thoughts on a regular basis. They don’t just summarize each other anymore. They aren’t redundant anymore either.

Steven and Connie are largely around to observe and comment, even after fusing into Stevonnie, until they take over for the final action sequence. And that’s just fine, because it turns out AJ Michalka nails supporting role as well as nails lead: Stevonnie’s blithe “Whuzzat” is the perfect punchline to the Off Colors’ fear of the melodramatic "that,” but nothing tops the sincere adulation of “Wow Lars I missed you.” And because they don’t steal Lars’s spotlight in his big moment, it’s that much more exciting when they take the Star Skipper out for a drive, ending the episode with a brilliant action scene and a cliffhanger that promises further adventure, like any good space serial should. Steven Universe has the occasional incomplete first half of a two-parter, one that works fine in context but not as well on its own. Lars of the Stars does not have this problem, working so well as a genre piece that the lack of a conclusion is the only viable conclusion.

Finally, Lars of the Stars doesn’t just celebrate the end of Act III’s fourteen-episode sweep: this is the last episode from Jesse Zuke, who came out swinging with Chille Tid and maintained an unbelievable batting average over the course of their twenty episodes. There’s only one episode Zuke had a hand in that I’m not huge on, Know Your Fusion, and even that is funny as hell if you’re into that style of meta humor. Alongside Hilary Florido, Zuke gave us two of the show’s greatest instances of characters just hanging out in Beta and Last Stop Out of Beach CIty, and the pair laid and reinforced the foundation for Peridot’s post-villain characterization in Catch and Release, Too Far, Log Date 7 15 2, Barn Mates, Too Short to Ride,  the aforementioned Beta, Gem Harvest, and Room for Ruby. But on top of being a master of comedy, Zuke could also do horror (Chille Tid and Are You My Dad) and drama (Beach City Drift, Steven vs. Amethyst, Gemcation), and had a good enough understanding of Steven and Lars to earn solo boarding credit on Stuck Together. I would’ve loved to see what else Zuke might’ve brought to Steven Universe, but that makes their unbelievable consistency that much more of a gift while it lasted. Bingo Bongo, Jesse.

Future Vision!

This is the first time we hear Sadie Killer and the Suspects by name, and it thankfully won’t be the last.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

It speaks to the range of Steven Universe that teen drama Kevin Party can stand alongside Lars of the Stars in my list of favorites. Granted, my top five also speaks to this range, but it’s nuts that the last two episodes are back-to-back and it not only works but benefits from this viewing order despite their wildly different tones.

Top Twenty-Five

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Lars of the Stars

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Back to the Kindergarten

Steven’s Dream

Kevin Party

When It Rains

The Good Lars

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Doug Out

Are You My Dad?

I Am My Mom

Stuck Together

The Trial

Off Colors

Lars’s Head

Gemcation

Raising the Barn

Sadie Killer

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Dewey Wins

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[lobocomicsandtoys]

SILVER SURFER PRODIGAL SUN #1

Written by Peter David Art by Francesco Manna

Continuing Prodigal's journey home from FANTASTIC FOUR: THE PRODIGAL SUN #1, the one individual who can aid him in accomplishing it is the Silver Surfer. But Prodigal has a history with the Surfer. Witness that now as we see the Surfer, back when he was still the herald to Galactus, as Prodigal battles him to prevent Galactus from destroying an entire world because of his unending appetite. Rated T+

Available at Lobo Comics & Toys this coming Wednesday, 08/14/2019

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[akwsr]

36"x36" mixed media wood panel piece entitled.  "My Muse Is" In Her G… My muse is the personified drive and source of inspiration for my creative artistry.  “In her G” she is energized with greatness and grace wrapped up in pleasure.  She beckons me at the break of first light and dances in my mind throughout the day.  We typically converse until noon as she releases her grasp, but she occasionally calls to me once again before the evening is through.  Together we have journeyed as I think back to our first encounters, Kevin and I in our rooms diligently drawing comics.  She is patient and extremely kind, requiring nothing from me, just fun all the time.  My teacher, friend, partner and guiding light for certain the surreal companion who assures me that I have so much more to reveal behind my hidden curtain.  She is my true constant motivator as our relationship grows and I owe her my unending gratitude for always showing me the ropes.  My biggest fan and cheerleader for these declarations I could go on and on, so I will choose to end this by saying she is simply my all and all. https://www.instagram.com/p/CbvrX6tLQin/?utm_medium=tumblr

[omniversalobservations]

Crossover No. 1 (November 2020)

In a world where San Diego Comic-Con is being held remotely due to a global pandemic, and comics publishers are fighting to hold onto the mental real estate they have in fans’ minds, Image’s new series Crossover, from writer Donny Cates, artist, Geoff Shaw, colorist Dee Cunniffe, and letterer John J. Hill, imagines what it might be like if our reality were to suddenly crash into an amalgam of genre fictional realities.

During a panel describing Crossover, Cates likened the series to a blend of Avengers: Endgame and Cloverfield, an odd pairing meant to get the heart of what makes event comic books tick.

With so many of the major events from the Big Two publishers focusing on the lives and motivations of prominent characters whose brand recognition plays a big part in how the books are marketed and how the story is crafted, Crossover instead tells the story of a meta-crossover from the perspective of an average person.

Crossover, Cates continued, is an “anti-event event series,” something he insisted wasn’t meant to make the book sound like a dig at other event series, but rather a celebration of comics as an art form.

“Because at its core, you know, [Crossover] has a lot of things to say and it has a lot of layers to it, meaning that if you want to come for a fun story and just something for escapism, that’s absolutely there for you,” Cates said. “If you want to start peeling back the layers of this book and see what we’re really talking about, and see that the metaphors that are in the book are about things that are going on today, that’s there for you, too.”

While Crossover’s obviously going to feature a number of recognizable character archetypes (though not necessarily the exact characters one knows from other comics), the series is set to focus on a Ellie, a comic bookshop employee whose life is upended when Crossover’s inciting event pulls fictional realities into hers. By making its central character a member of the comics industry, Crossover hammers home an important message about the series that Cates emphasized. Crossover’s as much about its characters making their way through a strange world as it is the book’s creative team navigating the real world of comics.

“I mean, the idea that we’re essentially following a bunch of creator-owned characters trying to survive in a world where everything around them is dominated by superheroes speaks volumes about our need as independent artists to make a stake and and try and be as loud as the loudest Marvel and DC book out there,” Cates said.

Source: Gizmodo

For his new comic book series, Crossover, Donny Cates couldn’t decide which superhero to focus on, so he just chose all of them...and I mean ALL of them. He went full Gary Oldman in Léon: The Professional: “EVERYYYOOONE!” No, seriously — Crossover (whose debut issue goes on sale next month) is the steamy love child of Crisis on Infinite Earths and Secret Wars that was then hit with the growth ray in Honey, I Blew Up the Kid.

The story begins when every single superhero and villain you can think of (Marvel, DC, you name it!) randomly show up in the Denver, Colorado of our reality to start an all-out brawl. The strange event becomes known as “The Crossover,” which is eventually contained when one of the “Supers” gets the bright idea to cast a forcefield around the city.

Now, several years later, no one gets in and no one gets out...or so it would seem. Meanwhile, the world at large has turned against comics and their beloved archetypes as religious zealots insist that God-fearing Americans must “pray the capes away.”

“Crossover is unlike any book I’ve ever worked on. It’s massive in its scope but still very personal and emotional,” Cates (God Country, Thor) said in a statement to Forbes Entertainment. “From new readers to old school fans of the early Image days, I truly think this book has something for everyone. Crossover is a love letter to this industry that we’ve all kind of grown up together in and we can’t wait for you all to go on this journey with us. It’s going to be wild!”

“Crossover is big! Years in the making, it's a hugely personal story, in scope and scale,” added artist Geoff Shaw (God Country), who shares illustration duties with Dee Cunniffe (Olympia). “As an artist it's been a dream to work on, and I'm genuinely proud of the work our team has done! Readers are in for a rare treat!”

Source: Forbes

This week's much-anticipated Crossover #1 from writer Donny Cates and artists Geoff Shaw, Dee Cunniffe, and John J. Hill expands on the title's simple premise of a world where fictional superheroes have crossed into reality with a hint at how the title's classic comic book premise of a meeting of heroes might come to fruition.

And to say the tease could be hinting at something big might be the understatement of all understatements…

In the world of Crossover, a portal opened over the city of Denver, Colorado in 2017, with all manner of fictional superheroes coming through and engaging in an ongoing, unending battle that decimated the city and its population.

Though the heroes are not specifically named, Superman is name-checked in the narrative captions, alongside a seeming analog character appearing in the art.

With one of the heroes having erected a forcefield around Denver some time since, knowledge about what's going on inside and what the superheroes are doing is limited, and people are trapped inside. As a result, superheroes are hated, with superhero comic books having been burned en masse.

Still, comic book shops exist, dealing in superhero comics that survived the purges. It's in one of these shops that protagonist Ellie works, indulging her love of superheroes (especially Invincible) despite having lost her parents in Denver. One day, while the shop is being protested by anti-superhero zealots, a young girl from a comic book world is discovered in the shop.

The zealots turn into an angry mob, trying to get ahold of the girl, who has somehow escaped the force field around Denver. As Ellie and her boss think about how to escape the store and save the girl, Ellie asks how she got out of Denver. The little girl says she was evacuated by a man who helps people get out – but she can't recall his name.

Instead offering to draw a picture, Ellie and her boss are taken aback by her depiction of her rescuer. Clad in blue with an apparent red 'S' on his chest, the girl appears to have drawn a crude rendition of Superman himself.

To drive the point home, Ellie recognizes the drawing as a symbol of "hope" - which is the Kryptonian meaning of Superman's S-shield, as first introduced in 2004's Superman: Birthright by Mark Waid and Leinil Yu.

Source: Games Radar

[aion-rsa]

The Boys Season 2: What Is The Church of the Collective?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The following contains spoilers for The Boys season 2 episode 7.

The ongoing presence and practice of politics within democratic societies should represent the pinnacle of human achievement: the fair and equitable ordering of communities, city states and nations; the voluntary outflow of power from the people to their chosen representatives. 

In reality, however, the true power rests not in the hands of the people, but in the gloved fists of major institutions: including corporations and religions, the balance of power between those two behemoths varying from country to country, all around the world, western or otherwise. Certainly in the U.S., no man or woman can ascend to the presidency without the backing of at least one of them, and Amazon Prime’s superb superhero satire The Boys understands this bleak state of affairs perfectly. While the show is at heart a reaction against the implausibly virtuous world of the comic-book superhero, it’s also a searing indictment of the intersecting worlds of corporate power, consumerism, and celebrity culture. 

Vought International – the business-suited big bads who keep the show’s superheroes in their pocket in order to fatten their own – is savagely adept at using its corporate power to flatter, curtail and manipulate both the populace and its own employees. It’s hard to keep God-like beings in check, but Vought management is smart and cynical enough to understand that even potentially planet-ending supes aren’t immune to the allure of celebrity. 

The Boys season 2 introduces the yang to U.S. corporatocracy’s yin with The Church of the Collective, a none-so-subtle parody of the Church of Scientology. The Deep (Chace Crawford) has been pulled slowly in by the tentacled embrace of the church to the point where we find him, in the penultimate episode of the second season, brainwashed into following its codes, without really understanding its purpose, aims or reach. We, the audience, are similarly in the dark, though the parallels to The Church of the Collective’s real-world counterpart, plus the narrative hints we’ve already been given, can help us imagine what this mysterious cult might have in store for the supes, ‘the boys’, and the world at large.

Cultish Context  – Scientology

The Church of Scientology was founded in 1953 by the pulp sci-fi writer and former Naval Officer L. Ron Hubbard. Throughout the early 1950s Hubbard popularized a branch of pseudoscience called Dianetics, which slowly evolved into the core tenets of his new religion, coincidentally not long after the therapeutic applications of Dianetics were uniformly rubbished by academics and psychologists. This became something of a trend with Hubbard. Don’t like my contribution to the field of modern psychology? Fine. I’ll use it to start my own religion. Don’t want me in the Navy? Fine. I’ll start my own navy (which he essentially did with Scientology’s naval-based fraternal order “Sea Org”). 

Scientology gets its hooks into prospective church members – usually the needy, the narcissistic, the unfulfilled, or the damaged – by promising them enlightenment through auditing. This process – part talk-therapy, part spiritual confession, part future blackmail – works by breaking down and analyzing a subject’s life (and past lives) in order to purge them of those traumatic, or unhelpful, memories (engrams) that may be negatively influencing their behavior in the present. While Scientology needs a large rank and file to sustain itself it’s also shrewd enough to target celebrities – it has a whole department dedicated to their pursuit – whose presence in the church guarantees money, media attention, and free, recruitment-based marketing. Scientology knows that it’s celebs and profits, not saints and prophets, who will rally crowds of the spiritually empty to their doors.     

The Church of the Collective uses similar strategies, both of which converge on The Deep at the start of the second season, being that he’s both a celebrity, and a damaged vessel. Things have never looked worse for the disgraced submariner: cast aside from The Seven; isolated; reviled; drunk; full of doubt and recrimination. He’s also the #metoo poster boy. 

Simply put: he’s easy prey. 

The Church offers him a way back into The Seven via a journey of self-and-bodily acceptance, ostensibly a combination of talk-therapy, interrogation and mind-altering drugs. The Deep is quickly broken down then built back up again. The Church even stage-manages him a wife (an allusion, perhaps, to a certain fighter-jet-flying, cocktail-mixing actor who’s long been Scientology’s most famous recruit) to repair the PR already done.

The Deep is recruited by Eagle the Archer (Langston Kerman), a washed-up, Travolta-esque supe who dangles the story of his own success and redemption before him like a hypnotic carrot. The Deep, in turn, brings A-Train (Jesse T. Usher) to the Collective, although A-Train’s entry into the fold is a little less wide-eyed and willing. He can see past the bullshit, and wants no part of it, but nevertheless is ensnared by the Church’s smooth-toned, immaculately-groomed leader, Alastair Adana (Goran Visnjic), who knows all about A-Train’s spiraling debt, drug abuse and heart condition, and implies that such knowledge could only be kept private for a price.

“The church knows all kinds of things,” he tells a suddenly cognizant A-Train, “But don’t worry. We also know how to be discreet… especially for our members.”

Adana is a thinly-veiled approximation of David Miscavige – Scientology’s current leader – in that he’s a man who projects a smiling, sophisticated veneer to the world, beneath which lies barely concealed torrents of ruthless cruelty and rage. Allegedly.  

When Eagle the Archer refuses the Church’s request to break off contact with his mother, the organization releases a damning and embarrassing sex tape to the media. Adana declares Eagle a toxic person (Scientology labels its enemies “suppressive persons” or “SPs”) with whom no-one in the Church should associate. The Deep doesn’t hesitate to cut his new friend out of his life, showing that even supes are susceptible to the power of suggestion and a little psychological surgery. A-Train observes all of this with quiet but troubled detachment, doubtless wondering how high a price he’ll have to pay for his past… and for how long.

What Is The Collective Up To?

So far it seems that the Church has been biding its time, waiting for an opportunity to infiltrate Vought, or The Seven. Each time a smaller fish has been sent to catch a bigger fish. There’s little reason to assume that this chain will stop with A-Train. Who’s next? The CEOs and head honchos of Vought itself? Black Noir – leveraged into the fold with the threat of revealing his crippling tree nut allergy to the general public? Maeve – if the Church gets its hands on the footage that was filmed onboard a certain doomed civilian airliner? And who, or what, is its ultimate target? 

Homelander?    

While the loony, laser-eyed lout regularly expresses a desire to unleash his unrestrained fury upon the helpless world, adoration and popularity really are important to him, which is probably the only reason he’s held himself back from going full superhero postal. Vought, however, can only fluff Homelander’s vanity insofar as it doesn’t upset the shareholders, whereas the Church of the Collective can offer him the one thing he truly craves: uncritical, unquestionable, unending Godhood and adulation. 

This wouldn’t be Homelander’s first religion rodeo. In season 1 Homelander bent Christianity to his, and Vought’s, will, claiming that superheroes like him – living miracles – had been chosen by God to carry out His plan for America: so why shouldn’t they join the War on Terror? The discovery that supes were created by Compound V rather than God destroyed that useful illusion, but perhaps The Church of the Collective represents a second chance to co-opt a religion. A marriage made in heaven this time.    

Stormfront is the only snag here, given that she already has her claws into Homelander and there’s bad blood between her and the Church. Once a member, she rejected it on the grounds that its inclusive membership criteria was an affront to her deeply cherished Nazi ideals of racial purity. If she was declared a toxic person by the Church, though, what was her punishment? Why is she allowed to operate with impunity? Is it possible that she’s secretly working for the Church – or at their command – to recruit Homelander, and the whole eugenics angle is part of their true and hidden design for the planet? 

Unlikely. It’s more likely we’re about to see The Church of the Collective try to take down their fallen angel. Or take over Vought. Or both.  Corporate might versus religious zealotry, with supes on both sides, and the boys trapped – as always – somewhere in the middle.

And if that’s the case, who should we put our money on?    

The Church of the Collective, like its real-life counterparts Scientology and NXIVM, apes the marketing methods, structure and language of the modern corporation, projecting the power and seriousness of the boardroom rather than the prattling of the pulpit. While these quasi-religious entities need money to survive and grow, and indeed mercilessly pursue it, money is but an adjunct to the real prize of power, which makes them at once more deadly and much harder to defeat (that isn’t to say that The Church of the Collective isn’t set on getting what The Church of Scientology already has: tax exempt status). 

You can bring down a business; it’s a little harder to snuff out faith, especially at its most zealous and jealously guarded. It’s the reason The Sparrows were able to take over Kings’ Landing in Game of Thrones. It’s the reason you’d rather meet a Ferengi in battle than a Klingon. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Whatever chaos the Collective is about to unleash on the world of The Boys, you can guarantee that it’s going to be messy. And a whole load of fun.    

The post The Boys Season 2: What Is The Church of the Collective? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3njmMCK

[renaroo]

The Sibling Complex

Disclaimer: Batman and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Wolverine and associated characters are the creative property of Marvel Comics Warnings: Canon-typical violence & language Rating: T Prompt: ( @shobogan ) DAMIAN AND GABBY, HOW DID I NEVER THINK OF THIS "do you have a big sister too?" "tch. ......yes."

A/N: Okay so even though I’ve still not gotten around to writing the main MAIN fic for this universe, I couldn’t help but tie this little team up into the big Amalgamation Comic Universe I’ve been dreaming up for the last few months. So that’s what’s being referred to as the ‘Merge” and ‘Mergers’ are people from other worlds/continuities that you don’t identify with. 

For all intents and purposes this is Prime/New-Earth Damian and Cassandra, with 616 Laura and Gabby. If you don’t know what that means, you’re a more worthwhile human being than myself, lemme tell ya. 

Jonathan’s seatbelt wasn’t quite fitting the way it was supposed to, though Gabby figured it wouldn’t. It was created for dogs and not wolverines. Still, he seemed content enough, sleeping in the backseat all to himself under all the blankets and pillows that she and Laura had packed for their journey. 

“I think he’ll sleep the whole ride this time,” Gabby informed Laura. She was sitting on her knees in the passenger seat, leaning against the corner of the chair to better look at their pet. “We won’t have to take a pee break.”

“And I remember telling you to sit down and use your seatbelt,” Laura responded, not taking her eyes off the road, though Gabby suspected that behind her sunglasses she was glancing into the rearview mirror. 

Sticking out her lower lip, Gabby flipped around in the seat and sunk down. “You’re not wearing your seatbelt either, Laura,” she said pointedly all the same.

“I have a healing factor,” Laura said plainly.

“So do I,” Gabby countered.

Laura bothered to actually look at Gabby and lower her chin enough that she could look at Gabby over her sunglasses. There was no humor in her eyes, though Gabby never lost sight of that bit of affection Laura only had for her, Deborah, and Megan. 

“I’m older,” Laura said in that flat, this is final tone she had perfected. 

“Of course you’re older! I’m a clone of you, duh,” Gabby said, but she already reached for her seatbelt and pulled it over her shoulder. “Some day that’s not going to be a good enough excuse, y’know.”

“It’ll always be enough for me,” Laura replied, looking back to the road. “I also distinctly remember that I told you that if Jonathan had to use the bathroom, you could teach him to go in a cup as easily as you taught him to go in a litter box.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Gabby said, nose curling. “Someone would have to hold the cup for him.”

“Not someone,” Laura said, smirking a bit. “Just you.”

“Ugh,” Gabby rolled her eyes. “Why’re we even going to this new place? This... Gotham? Ever since the explosion and all the weird stuff with the world popping up and the Jean-Grey School going public again, I thought we’d be... I don’t know, staying around there? Or if we have to explore new places from the other worlds, why can’t we start at some of the fun sounding ones? Like Metropolis or Sternbild or Miracle City--”

"This isn’t an adventure, Gabby,” Laura said simply. “This is a favor for Tyger Tyger.”

Surprised, but not that surprised, Gabby settled in her seat and reached for her own sunglasses from the glove compartment. “I should’ve known you were still allergic to fun.” 

“You should have,” Laura agreed. “Seems several businesses that Tyger once had a firmer grasp on in Madripoor are making large moves on her operation. The sorts of moves that require a lot of financial support to see them through. Financial support that used to be provided by her and her alone but, with how everything has been since the Merge, it seems that there are some additions to Intergang’s watchlist. And they seem to be taking roost in some of the places that are outside of her banks’ former influences.”

Gabby tapped on her chin. “So, criminal hubs that weren’t around before the Merge, but now want to take advantage of power vacuums. Makes sense.”

“Gotham is one of those hubs,” Laura explained. “A port city with an apparently ages old criminal history built into the brick and mortar. And it’s on the East Coast of the United States which would make it conveniently a world away from Madripoor, Hong Kong, and the majority of Tyger Tyger’s surveillance.”

With a smirk Gabby poked her sister’s shoulder. “And because of someone you know, you just happen to have earned Tyger Tyger’s trust, huh?”

“Something like that,” Laura said simply. “I already thanked you for it, though, so there’s no reason to bring it back up.”

“Except maybe to get thanked again. Since we’re going to Gotham instead of any of the cool and awesome places that aren’t full of seedy undergrounds and people who are going to be shooting us pretty soon,” Gabby answered. “Liiiike Miracle City--”

“We’re not going to England today,” Laura said plainly. “And I’ve heard... conflicting things about this mysterious Miracle Man. I’d not put too many eggs in that basket, Gabby.”

“You’re right,” Gabby hummed, pulling up her smart phone to play games on. “I mean, it’s kinda pretentious to name yourself Miracle Man isn’t it?”

“Very,” Laura agreed. “Which is saying something since you’re friends with a kid named Genesis.”

“Your original name was Talon,” Gabby said simply. “Glass houses, Laura.”

“And you still haven’t picked one,” Laura remarked. “Not so easy is it?”

Gabby pointed toward the backseat. “I named Jonathan! I don’t know why you can’t give me one that isn’t stupid for free.”

"I’m driving us to Gotham, I’ll think of something you’ll hate on the way,” Laura remarked with a smirk.

“You’re the worst,” Gabby laughed, though she didn’t mean it. 

She didn’t mean it at all.

Working with others was beneath him when he considered himself an al Ghul. Working with Grayson had been an adjustment and the sort of opportunity for learning he would never admit to out loud. Working with his Father had been a pain which throbbed, upsetting and mismatched, until they at last found each other’s patterns.

Damian took time and effort with teamwork and it was never once a pleasurable experience because it nearly always involved sharing his time with someone he would rather not have. And that was an annoyance almost beyond measure. 

“Tt, I would have more delightful conversation with Goliath tonight than with you,” Damian asserted, arms still crossed and nose high toward the sky. 

For a moment, that seemed to almost faze Cain as she bothered to look up from the cheaply made paper flyer to Damian, then back to the colorful brochure. 

Annoyed with the lack of response, Damian leaned in and curled his nose at her. “If you must know, that was an insult lotted toward you,” he continued to inform her. 

Cassandra looked up, a knowing glint in her brown eyes as she gave a small smirk and responded with the most infuriating, quiet, “Thank you,” Damian had ever heard.

“This annoyance of a public outing is over and I am ready to leave this campus before more of my classmates come across us to ask questions and compliment that stupid barrette in your hair again,” Damian growled, looking over the grounds of Gotham Academy. “Mizoguchi alone would be an unending barrage of questions.”

Cass put her hands and the brochure into her pocket and glanced back out. “Mmkay,” she said. “Waiting on...?”

Glaring at her, Damian could not have further expressed his aggravation. “On our ride since Father so rudely left halfway through.”

“Told him to go home,” Cass explained, looking back to Damian. “Said we could... walk.”

Damian’s eye twitched. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She shrugged simply to defy him. “Walk? Walk to Bristol? Have you lost your mind--”

“I think we,” she said, bringing her book bag around her shoulder and pulling out just enough of her mask that Damian could tell what it was, “should... bond. Been a while.”

Memories of exploding bridges and the risk of a family name larger than both of them came to mind as Damian grinned ear to ear. “You do make up for insufficiencies with some amount of style, Cain.”

"I know,” she replied somewhat cockily as they headed toward the nearest alley and began to quickly switch attire. 

While there were many things about Cassandra that Damian was uncertain about, especially with her strangely youthful presence after what his Father was referring to as the great Merge, the one thing he was always sure to admire was her combative skill. 

He still remembered the tinges of jealousy that hung off of him like weights the first time they had met face to face back during the Architect’s attacks on Gotham. He remembered how completely unfazed she was by his cutting words.

Back then he had been willing to give credit for that to Cassandra’s lack of proficiency in spoken language, but lately he learned that was not the case. 

Instead she defeated him shear self-confidence and assuredness. HIs words may have cut deep, but she still had layers of armor made out of pure conviction. 

Though, he had been right about her sparsity in using her tongue.

After they rounded a third mile, Damian was slightly falling behind Cassandra. And that, of course, simply was not going to work.

“I refuse to go another centimeter without you explaining what our plans for the rest of the evening are, Black Bat,” he said promptly. “It is only ten thirty and prime patrol activity is best between the hours of midnight and four AM.”

“Won’t be expecting us then,” Cass said with a smirk, looking back behind him.

“Who won’t be?” he asked testily. 

“Ships,” she answered again before reaching for her grappling gun. 

“Ships,” Damian repeated flatly.

“Ships,” Cassandra confirmed before taking the next swing. 

Annoyed once again, Damian followed suit, quickly getting distance covered and making a point of leaping ahead of Cassandra by their next landing. He could see that they were at Cape Carmine, which answered what ships, but left another question. 

“Why ships?” Damian half-whined. “Do you have information on them? Do you have any suspicions about their use? What intel have you gotten from that new Network of Batgirls-United or whatever it is that Oracle is up to these days?” 

“Sh,” Cass said shortly. “No information. No intel. Gut.”

Immediately annoyed, Damian narrowed his eyes and followed Cassandra almost reluctantly. “That is not enough to encourage confidence in you, Cain!” he told her firmly.

“Sh, codenames,” she corrected, as if he was still green in more than just his boots. 

“I don’t need to use them because there is no one around,” he growled after as they reached the edge of the docks and easily crossed over the barbwire fence. 

Though Damian hated to admit it to himself -- and would never dare to admit it out loud -- he truly could sit back and appreciate the ease with which Cassandra moved herself forward. She had the sort of grace in her movements that was natural like Grayson, but there was a determination and ferocity to everything as well.

It made Damian feel familiar with her in ways that he seldom felt with anyone. 

Once Damian landed, Cassandra glanced from one side of the port to the other then pointed to the far off shore. “Take that side,” she ordered.

Damian was more than a little taken aback by the order. “On my own?” he asked, uncertain if she realized what she was saying.

A soft smile came to Cass’ face and she glanced toward him. “Trust you,” she assured him.

Heat came to Damian’s face but he abruptly ignored it, pushing past his sister and heading toward the docks as ordered. “Of course you do,” he made light of the commentary. “Everyone should trust me. I’m the best.”

“Sure,” Cass replied with more amusement in her voice than he liked, but she did not double back behind him. She certainly went her own way and left Damian completely unsupervised.

It was the sort of trust and confidence that he usually only earned after several disobeyed orders -- both with his father and with Grayson. 

As impressed as Damian was with the simple act, however, it began to quickly fade once he actually began patrolling the area. There was not so much as a dock worker on shift in his area, and his combing of the landscape began to feel more and more like a useless chore. 

“I told her,” he whine petulantly, “there’s no one here! And the best hours for patrol are later. People are still out and awake at...”

With that, Damian took pause and looked around the docks once more. They were completely barren, his search had assured him of that. 

And that was where the problem lied. 

"UGH!” Damian growled, going for some high ground in his frustration so as to have a better vantage point and see along the harbor. “Why can she never explain a damn thing! Such an annoyance.”

He leered over the skyline, unimpressed with the fact that a ship, surely enough, was fast approaching. 

“All it would have taken was a single word, Cain,” he muttered to himself. “You truly are like father. And here I thought the others had been vastly exaggerating.”

His focus, however, was taken from the approaching ship when he noticed quick movement in the distance. 

Eyes narrowing, Damian turned more toward the direction of the motion and, sure enough, from one shadow to the next leapt a small figure -- no bigger than himself. And though the exact details of the costume were unfamiliar, Damian recognized high grade armor when he saw it. 

“Tt, still haven’t memorized all of the files we have on new heroes and villains after the Merge,” Damian growled to himself. “I will have to correct that after I fix this.”

The unknown assailant was ducking into a warehouse only one over from Damian’s own perch, which made it easy enough to leap to one of the top windows and quietly lift it open after a lightning quick lockpick job. 

Inside, the darkness provided even more cover for them both, but the advantage was still to Damian given the small thief was not aware of him yet. 

A small, drowning part of his conscience was worried that just perhaps he should have alerted Cassandra as to what he was doing, but he figured if she could leave out some details, so could he. 

“Hey, I think I’ve found an empty hangar,” the small girl said, touching the side of her face mask as she walked away. “It’s the thirteenth, so that means it’s unlucky. Sounds about like us. It’s good that we didn’t bring Jonathan.”

Damian was more than a little disgusted to see such a young girl being used for what seemed to be a very organized attack. But at the same time, her determination and unwavering disposition didn’t leave him any doubt about her possible guilt. 

She reminded him more of Katrina and the other ruffians that Colin was spending time with in the East End under Catwoman’s proverbial wing. 

“You want me to just stay here?” the girl whined. After a pause she let out a groan. “None of them ever get past you, Laura. That’s my point. Let me move-- Ugh. I hate when she hangs up.”

The girl crossed her arms, childishly in Damian’s opinion, and looked around the warehouse as if curiously bored when she suddenly went stiff. 

Her rigidness caught Damian by surprise, it was obvious to him even if he was not the world class body language expert that Cassandra was. The girl’s shoulders hunched forward and she began moving her head around widely in a circular motion, sniffing the air like some sort of dog. 

Damian’s eyebrows raised curiously as the girl hunkered down more and, to his surprise, unleashed what looked like a bony claw from her hands. 

It took a moment, but Damian realized that she was onto him, and if he did not strike quickly and get things under control, his advantage would be lost. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, he leaped to the nearest rafters, using the arc of his own jump to quickly fling several Batarangs the mysterious foe’s way. She somersalted away from the first two and then sliced through the remaining with the two hand claws then a foot claw that had appeared through her boot when Damian wasn’t watching it. 

The pieces dropped around her and she seemed to be examining them at least for the moment. Damian took the opportunity to fling himself downward and aim a kick for her head. 

The girl let out an aggressive grunt as the kick hit, but rather than fall to the ground she quickly recovered and slid back on her heels. 

There was no seeing her eyes through the large, pink goggles she was wearing, but Damian knew a disgruntled expression when he saw one. 

“Are you picking a fight with me?” she demanded.

“I’m winning a fight with you,” Damian corrected before pulling out blades and rushing forward at her. 

“Oh, confident,” she mocked, easily blocking his swings with her forearms before kicking Damian in the chest and knocking the air out of him. “Sorry, if I lost a fight to someone like you I’d never hear the end of it from my sister. Do you know how long it took me to convince her to not leave me in the motel with Jonathan? At least two minutes of my sappy eyes. I’m supposed to reserve those for emergencies.”

“You need to shut your mouth, woman!” Damian growled as he continued to attack her.

She let out a long gasp as she caught Damian’s foot. “Oh my god. Are you like... nine? I’m not supposed to beat up babies. It’s not good for my karma!” She then used the momentum of his foot to twist him midair and send him to the ground chest first. She seemed intent on not letting him have enough air.

"I,” Damian wheezed as he began to block attacks. “Am... Not... NINE!” 

With his final declaration, Damian used a two finger strike right for the girl’s throat, causing her to choke immediately and back up, grabbing at the plating armor and pull it forcefully away from her skin to try and relieve her bruised trachea. 

Then there was an enormous explosion just outside. 

Both Damian and the girl turned toward the sound, eyes wide. 

“Black Bat!” Damian called out despite himself.

“Wolverine!” the girl yelled. She then released a vicious growl that shouldn’t have been possible given the bruising of her throat Damian had just given her, and quickly kicked Damian across the face, a wicked attack punctuated by a deep cut that ran across his cheek due to one of her claws.

Damian hit the ground and the girl took off toward the harbor. But he wasn’t going to stay down long. 

In all the time that Gabby had spent with Laura, she had come to learn that explosions usually meant Wolverine and that usually came with a sense of trouble. 

Trouble which, whether Laura liked it or not, Gabby had gotten very good at getting her out of. 

After losing the weirdo in the cape, Gabby quickly made her way toward the source of the explosion and was not deterred by fire or recursive blasts because she knew that a healing factor plus a little determination was more than enough to help her as much as it did Laura. 

“Wolverine!” she yelled out, ignoring the way the flames licked at her heels and singed her hair the more she ran toward it. “Wolverine, where are you--” 

Before the words had fully escaped her mouth, she was snagged by the back of her armor and pulled into the air. It reminded her of her not-so-long-ago run in with Spider-Woman, flying through the air at a swing.

But it wasn’t any of the Spider-people that Gabby knew when she looked back, but rather a woman dressed all in black and gold, swinging from a grappling hook that wouldn’t have been out of place in the arsenal that Gabby and her clone sisters were trained with in the labs. 

That wasn’t a memory she reflected on fondly. 

“Let go! I have to find my sister!” Gabby warned before extending her left claw and slashing out at the woman holding her. 

The move somehow didn’t surprise the woman as she went in for a landing far away from the fire, tossing Gabby by her shirt to flip her in the air. Then, just before Gabby’s face could meet the pavement, the woman caught her by her foot. 

It was a cool move, and if Gabby wasn’t worried about her sister at the moment, she probably would have marveled at it more. But as things were, she needed to find Laura, and this lady was becoming a nuisance.

“I need to find... Wolverine!” she growled before extending her claw and stabbing the woman in the arm with it. 

That had apparently been a surprise to her where the swing had not been, and the woman dropped her without so much as a word or a grunt. Which was weird, but Gabby was again preoccupied by tucking into a quick roll and landing on all fours to face the would-be attacker. 

The woman looked at her, then out to the explosion and the bay. She looked back to Gabby. “Sister is on the ship,” the woman explained. “Stay. I will get her.”

At first, the command caught Gabby off guard. Then she tilted her head and waved to her attire. “What? Do I look like a civilian kid to you or something? because I’m definitely not that!”

She glared at Gabby then looked up, drawing Gabby’s attention upwards as well and to the annoyance she thought she had left in the warehouse. 

“Not you again!” she all but groaned just before the kid tackled her with a feral growl. 

They struggled, rolling with each other and landing punches and kicks where they could without much mind to the woman in black and gold. At least not until she cleared her throat and the colorfully clad kid looked to her almost in irritation. 

“Keep her here,” the older woman ordered.

“Since when were you in charge of me, Black Bat?” he snapped at her, leaving his cheek open for a good punch that Gabby was more than happy to take. “YOU!!!”

Before either of them could continue on, however, the mystery woman raced forward, past the flaming dock and toward another. With a few swift leaps, she was at the bow of a fishing ship and then leaping toward the bay, grappling hook in hand. It eventually hit the distant ship attempting to steer away from the harbor. The so-called Black Bat hit the waters and disappeared, but for a while, with her goggles, Gabby was able to trace the ripples of her trailing behind the boat and gaining on it. 

Gabby sat up on the boy’s chest and allowed herself to feel impressed for a few moments. “Wow,” she said. “That was almost cool.”

“Get off me!” the boy snarled before kicking up with all his might and forcing Gabby to do just that. 

She tucked into a roll and then leaped to her feet, claws drawn. 

The other kid was ready with bat-shaped throwing weapons. 

Both of them were heaving for breath. 

“What’s your deal!?” Gabby snapped. “I was trying to help my sister stop smugglers!”

“Tt, likely story,” he snapped back. “And even if you were, this is not your city to do such for. This city belongs to Batman and Robin.”

Blinking some, Gabby loosened up and glanced back toward where the mystery woman had gone to follow after Laura and the ship. “Her costume didn’t look like a Robin--”

"Fool! She isn’t Robin!” the bright red child -- in costume and face -- yelled at her. “I am Robin! The best Robin that there’s ever been.”

“Robin,” Gabby repeated before putting her hands on her hips. “I guess Wolverine was right. It is important to put more thought into a superhero name so it doesn’t end up being something stupid.”

“I’ll kick that insolent mouth,” he snarled.

“You’re being silly,” Gabby informed him. “But it’s kinda cool to have a superhero named Batman like that. I guess some good things did come out of the Merge. There’s a woman Wolverine, so why not--”

“That wasn’t Batman!” Robin snapped. “That was Black Bat! Obviously.”

Gabby narrowed her eyes. “How is that obvious? That’s like saying oh, they’re Inhuman, not a Mutant. Obviously. Like unless you have a Cerebro, how’re you going to really know at first glance--”

“What are you talking about?” Robin growled.

“What’re you talking about?” Gabby fired back. 

They stared at each other for a good long minute before being distracted by the sounds of gunfire over the harbor. They both looked and, in the corner of her eye, Gabby could see despair and concern wash over the Robin’s face before he regained his sour composure. 

“So you’re from one of the other places during the Merge, huh.” Gabby said, finally putting away her claws and folding her arms across her chest. 

“I suppose the same could be said about you,” Robin said stuffily. “Save for the fact that I belong here. Gotham has the heroes it is meant to have. But you are unfamiliar.”

“Eh, come up to Westchester, We’ll probably say the same about you,” Gabby joked lightly with a shrug. “Besides, we only came down here on business for a friend. I think. I don’t know. Wolverine gets in these moods and it’s like she forgets I’m the greatest partner, like, ever. And it’d always go smoother if she actually let me in on things, y’know?”

“Tt, no,” Robin snapped. “There is complete disclosure between myself and my partner. I have earned it through a lifetime of training and perfection.”

Looking him over, Gabby was having a hard time deciding whether or not this kid was actually real. So she turned attention back to the harbor. “So you know what’s on that shipment that our partners are fighting on?”

There was a long beat of silence. 

"Things that are obviously not of your concern,” the spiky haired brat finally said. 

“That just means you don’t know anything!” Gabby groaned. 

“It means I wouldn’t tell you anything even if I did because you don’t have any business being here other than shady business. And if Black Bat told me to keep you here, I will do it with you unconscious on the ground if I have to!” he snapped. 

“If this Black Bat told you to jump off a bridge, would you?” Gabby asked sarcastically. 

“Tt, I’ll have you know, we blow up bridges together, and so jumping off it was a given,” Robin answered in that same snooty way. 

Gabby frowned then looked back out to the ship. “At least it isn’t moving anymore. I guess we just have to wait now,” she sighed before dropping into a sitting position on the pavement. “Hope Wolverine gets done in time for us to get to the hotel and let Jonathan out.”

Robin stared at the ship as well, aggravation coming off him in waves. “Do you have someone kidnapped at this hotel?” he demanded.

“Jonathan’s family,” she said with a wave of her hand. “He’s a wolverine.”

“Tt, sounds like a mascot,” Robin sneered. 

“More like a brother. Our actual half brothers suck,” Gabby sighed. “What about you? You have any siblings?”

Robin’s shoulders dropped and his entire head rolled with his eyes. “More each and every day,” he groaned.

“Cool,” Gabby said with a smile. “Got any sisters?”

At that, Robin’s gaze flickered back to the ship in the distance. Slowly, he lowered himself to a crouch by Gabby, still keeping his gaze level on the harbor. “Yes,” he said.

And that was all he really needed to say. Gabby understood. 

She started watching the harbor again, too.

Damian knew that regardless of circumstances, it was of the utmost importance to keep vigilant and wait for the inevitable signal from Cassandra that would tell him he was needed. He was certain of it coming sooner rather than later. 

He also knew he was utterly exhausted from the effort he had put forth to fight the new stranger he was now waiting with at the Dixon Docks. 

At some point, he didn’t know when, he must have closed his eyes and left his guard down just enough that he could be surprised by the obnoxious snort of a giggle that was coming from just a few feet in front of them. 

Alarmed, Damian whipped out his batarang, ready to throw, when he realized that the position he had just been in was so compromised and so inexcusable he hadn’t even registered it at first. 

He and the mysterious girl had been sleeping head-to-head, shoulder-to-shoulder before a woman in a yellow-and-blue garish costume stood by Damian’s own sister and snorted in laughter at them.

“Wow, that’s almost adorable,” the woman said. 

“Wolverine!” the girl with Damian cried out, leaping to her feet. She apparently experienced no-such shame from their compromised positions. 

Instead, she raced to Wolverine’s side and wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist. “You smell like smoke, but your clothes are intact, so I don’t think you burned yourself alive again. Sorry your hair is singed. This is all an improvement, though! I’m so used to you being stupid about your healing factor.”

Looking toward Cassandra, Damian was met with an all-too-presumptuous smirk. As if his sister had observed anything worthy of humiliation. Or, more importantly, like she had any history of abusing such situations to her own whims. 

She was not Drake or Todd, after all.

“Where have you been!?” Damian demanded. “You drag me to warehouses, leave me behind, and all for what?”

“Stopped bad guys,” Cass answered simply.

“You’re incorrigible,” Damian spat out.

Wolverine looked toward Cassandra, tilting her head with a sharp toothed smirk. “You’re right. He does get angry when he’s worried. That’s adorable. Mine just gets chatty.”

“I do not, why would you tell strangers that, Wolvie? That’s so rude,” the girl whined. 

After watching the sisters interact for a bit, Damian put an incredulous look Cassandra’s way. “You’re seriously not going to give me more explanation than you stopped bad guys.”

She rolled her eyes at him, as if a mask could hide the expression he was more than familiar with from his older siblings. “Penguin’s men. Same connections from Hong Kong. Recognized them on patrol last night. Thought we’d check again tonight. Got lucky.”

“They weren’t shipping arms to Hong Kong, though, they were shipping them to the competition of our connections in Madripoor,” Wolverine revealed. “Trying to take advantage of the lack of cohesion between the various worlds of the Merge for now.”

“Genius,” the girl smirked. 

“It is, which is why Black Bat here has been talking to me about a superhero four-one-one that their original world apparently uses with some frequency,” Wolverine continued.

Damian continued to scrutinize his sister. “You’re sharing secrets about Oracle now, are you?” he demanded.

“Yes,” Cass replied without hesitation. “Need to work together more. If villains can, we can.”

“Looks like you two have already started on the right path,” Wolverine joked. 

Damian’s face felt like a furnace as he rapidly shook his head in disagreement. “We’re as good as bitter enemies! We fight like dogs! She hasn’t even given me a name to curse at her with!” Damian shouted. 

“Talon,” the girl answered. “After my sister’s loser name.”

“Talons have a terrible history in Gotham, you should stay away if you know what’s good for you,” Damian snapped at Talon viciously. An action which led to Cassandra wasting no time in flicking him in the ear for. “Black Bat!”

Ignoring Damian, Cassandra offered Wolverine her hand and a smile. “We’ll... work together again. Know it.”

“You can count on it,” Wolverine assured her. 

When Damian glared over in Talon’s direction she was still wearing that infectious smile as she and her sister turned away to head back from wherever they came. 

He then shifted his glare toward Cass. “You’re the worst partner,” he informed her.

“You’re the best,” Cass joked. “That’s why I brought you.”

“You better believe I’m the best, better than anyone tonight deserved, that’s for sure!” Damian growled out, following Cass in getting his grappling hook out of his utility belt. “You’re willing to team up with any of these unchecked Mergers.”

“Yup,” she said as they took off. “Also willing to watch... your terrible school plays.”

Damian sighed and followed his sister into the Gotham skyline. “O brave new world, that has such people in it!”

[therachelperspective]

BOOK | The Clothes Make the Girl (Look Fat?): Adventures and Agonies in Fashion by Brittany Gibbons

I have officially confirmed that Brittany Gibbons and I are the same person. 

I have read both of her books now and through both of them wrote copious notes that illustrated how she and I share many of the same experiences, attributes, body type, thoughts on certain topics, almost everything plausible that we could have as similarities. Some people will say that they read a book and swear they could have written it themselves. That is me with Brittany Gibbons. 

Her sophomore novel, The Clothes Make the Girl (Look Fat?): Adventures and Agonies in Fashion, documents her personal grapples with something every plus-size woman struggles with at some point or another (if not all the time) – fashion. It’s not just trying to find clothes that will fit on your body, period; it’s the mental frustration we face alongside it, like coming to terms with the number that dictates this entire process, and the fact that those numbers when shopping store to store are hardly ever consistent. When a larger woman tells you that the struggle is real, you best believe the struggle is real. And Brittany Gibbons, thank the Lord, approaches these and other topics with wit and pure honesty about every battle she has experienced when it comes to the clothing on her back. If you thought her first book was legit, her second is right up there with it. 

In true memoir style, The Clothes Make The Girl follows a general chronology of her life. We begin more or less in her adolescence and conclude with post-baby body. Along the way, Brittany not only cracks jokes about her exploits – a comic relief I really grew to appreciate – but she also constantly reminds readers that there is nothing wrong with their body. I wrote down so many quotes that were positive affirmations – reminders that FAT. BODIES. ARE. NORMAL. BODIES. Right away from the prologue, “Real women [...] are not defined by their curves, thigh gaps, or chest size.” 

Furthermore, shortly thereafter in the Introduction, another spectacular truth: “We hold jobs, we go out with friends, and we date. We do normal human activities and feel a healthy desire to do them in clothes that make use feel confident and beautiful and are reflective of our personalities.” Let’s be real, not many of us plus-size ladies have personalities rooted in elastic banded sweatpants and Looney Tunes (not out in public, anyways).

Before I started reading The Clothes Make the Girl, I noted that I was already at a comfortable, confident standpoint with my body. Granted the current fashion scene has produced far more plus-size fashion than in years past and I can actually say that I have numerous outlets within which I can easily find stylish digs for my size 18 body... I wondered what the experience of reading this book would feel like for someone who wasn’t already at a body positive stage in their life. The beauty of this book, however, was that even though I am at that stage, I was able to find a renewed sense of self-assurance in myself, proving that it is a quality piece of literature for women (or any plus-size person) to read. It’s not solely for those starting their journey; it can be a tool for everyone feeling discouraged or in a rut when dealing with their bodies and fashion.

Despite every topic covered in The Clothes Make the Girl, I believe the most poignant section of the entire book is an intermission of sorts titled “You Have My Permission To Hate Yourself.” 

Let me repeat that louder for the people in the back: 

You have Brittany’s permission to hate yourself. 

What sets Brittany Gibbons apart from other authors who tackle body positivity is that, sure, many will tell tales of their own personal demons, but I don’t recall any author or novel off the top of my head that outright told readers that it was okay to hate yourself and your body, and that it was normal to do so. “You don’t owe anyone shit,” Brittany says. “And only you get to decide how you feel about [your body] today.” Hell yassss, Gibbons. Hell yes. And some days, you’re allowed to be unhappy with it. That doesn’t mean you have to beat yourself up over it, or go on some extreme diet to change it.

While the major struggle in plus-size fashion lies in finding quality clothes for our double-digit bodies, another that Brittany touches base on that makes her literature all the more relatable is what happens when the clothes (especially pants) are finally found and worn. Many of us whom have never seen the light of a thigh gap are very familiar with the concept of chub rub and the sorrow of eventually rubbing holes through the inner thighs of our favorite bottoms. “I’ve buried more jeans than there are Batman movies” is a beyond relevant statement from this book. We try to salvage them as much as possible, but its occurrence and their ultimate disposal is inevitable. I’m glad to see its inclusion in The Clothes Make the Girl. 

There were times in this book, just as there were in her first memoir, where she lost me a little (those pregnancy and babies chapters) but that doesn’t negate the fact that her logic and wisdom about plus-size lifehood were still present with flying colors. The Clothes Make the Girl is an excellent representation of life in plus-size fashion, and how rough it truly is. Brittany Gibbons touched on many of, if not all, the things I felt were important, especially in regards to legitimate ups and downs of body/fat positivity. 

I give her major credit for extending her memoirs while also touching on a very specific topic; depending on said topic, I might consider that a difficult task. My only qualm might be that I felt the book ended a bit abruptly.

I don’t consider this to be a 5-star novel like her first (which still remains my only 5-star to date), but it was still a good quality read. I will always enjoy Brittany’s comical nature in the face of adverse subject matter and our seemingly unending list of resemblances. I’m sure as long as she continues to publish, I will absolutely continue to appreciate and enjoy her work.

FAVORITE EXCERPTS

"[...] Even Anna Wintour isn't dressed like Anna Wintour all the time."

"... Don't let anyone ever make you feel bad for liking clothes and doing your hair and wearing makeup. You are allowed to enjoy yourself in this life..."

"... We also hold jobs, we go out with friends, and we date. We do normal human activities and feel a healthy desire to do them in clothes that make us feel confident and beautiful and are reflective of our personalities."

"I am a normal being with a body that fits into some things and not into others."

"My insecurities came from other people telling me I should have them."

"Loving your body is about being comfortable in your body, and only you get to set the parameters of that, only you get to decide what it looks like, and only you know where your finish line is."

"The sexiest women I know are sexy because they feel sexy for themselves first."

"Your priority in this life is you."

"What you are feeling about yourself right now is fine and normal and allowed."

"... Take a shower and start over knowing that ninety percent of the people out to judge you are inside your own head."

"... You need to realize that you don't owe anyone shit. our body is yours, and only you get to decide how you feel about it today."

"Buy yourself clothes that fit. They may not be the size you think you should be, but who cares?"

"Thunder Thighs is a ridiculous insult. As if having thighs as loud and as powerful as thunder was a bad thing... That basically makes me an X-Man."

"When your jeans don't fit, buy a bigger pair. Larger jeans are worth the dinners with your best friends, the gelato during a semester in Italy, sleeping in on Sundays if you are tired, and a movie night on the couch with someone you love."

"Never apologize for your body. Ever."

"I won't hide my stomach to keep up some illusion that only thin bodies are beautiful."

"Body love is hard work."

ABOUT BRITTANY GIBBONS (from the back cover)

Brittany Gibbons writes the award-winning humor blog BrittanyHerself.com and runs the Facebook group CurvyGirlGuide.com. She gave a 2011 TED talk on the reinvention of beauty and is the author of New York Times bestseller Fat Girl Walking: Sex, Food, Love, and Being Comfortable in Your Skin... Every Inch of It. Her writing has been featured in the New York Times, Huffington Post, Redbook, Woman's Day magazine, Marie Claire, Los Angeles Times, The Stir, and Babble, among many other publications and sites. Brittany also hosts a weekly Google talk show called Last Call Brittany and the weekly podcast Girl's Girls. Brittany lives in Ohio with her husband and three children.

The Clothes Make the Girl (Look Fat?): Adventures and Agonies in Fashion by Brittany Gibbons Publishing | Date | Pages

MY RATING: ★ ★ ★ ★ ✩

I'm fairly certain that any book Brittany Gibbons publishes, I will enjoy it. Many of the notes I took with The Clothes Make the Girl were because I agree with her statements so much. Our ideas, body types, etc. are so similar, it's almost as if I could have written this book myself. She may have lost me a little bit with the baby-centric life and fashion (as did also happen with her first book), but her logic and wisdom were still there.

I wasn't sure how well I could get into this book at first (it took me a long time to get a good pace started), but it really is an excellent representation of life in plus-size fashion. And the truth is that it is rough. But she touched on all the major points that I felt were important. The best overall part of this book was absolutely the chapter/intermission having permission to hate yourself and your body. Not everyday is as easy as the previous... and that's okay.

This was a good extended memoir while also touching on a specific topic. That's not always easy to do for my tastes in literature. However, I did feel that it ended a little abruptly. While I don't think this is a 5-star book like her first, it was still a good quality read. Especially as I once again go through a shift in my own personal style, and of course, the every day occurrences in fashion for a plus-size woman.

[hailstorrmmss]

Hi friends! If you like fan made ffxiv stories, this one is really good so far! Also i love all of shoe's (the creator) ffxiv ramblings about the game. Read it with me!

https://ffxivcomic.github.io/

[comiccrusaders]

Dynamite Entertainment is pleased to announce that they have partnered with social media sensation and pop culture photographer, Johnny Wu (aka @Sgtbananas) for the launch of their latest Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign, which will celebrate his work with a gorgeous Kickstarter exclusive hard cover art book, Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure! With an expected shipping date of December, this first-ever collection of Johnny’s work will take you on a journey through your childhood in this visually stunning and nostalgic adventure.

The Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure Kickstarter campaign is live now, and can be found by visiting: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dynamiteent/johnny-wu-10-frames-per-second-an-articulated-adve

Johnny Wu (aka @sgtbananas) has turned a passion for toys and photography into an immersive and fantastical adventure that changes dreary reality into a world where all of your childhood fantasies can come true.  Through these images we can visit a world where Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles can fight Storm Troopers, and Transformers can walk alongside Spider-Man.  The only limit to what we can encounter is our own imagination.  Johnny’s photography provides a window to the wonder we experienced as children when the toys which occupied our worlds weren’t just plastic collectibles, but vehicles to unleash the unending imagination of youth.  Armed with his favorite toys, a passion for photography, and a highspeed camera, Johnny has turned his interest in making life-like scenes with action figures into a brand on Instagram.  Anyone following his @sgtbananas feed will find the most amazing images turning the mundane into something truly remarkable.  It is the combination of his sense of photography and a vibrant imagination that come together to make his visions a reality.

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“I’ve been a toy collector my whole life,” says Johnny Wu. “I’ve always had a strong connection to toys, but it wasn’t until I started taking photos of them that I felt that I was able to share how special they are. Ten Frames Per Second is my lifelong love of toys and photography coming to life. I never stopped being a kid, and I hope that my photos reach the inner kid in all of us.”

“Anyone working in the comic book industry must truly be a kid at heart,” says Nick Barrucci, CEO and Publisher of Dynamite.  “Johnny Wu’s work captures that very spirit in each and every image he snaps, making Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure the perfect project for us to partner on. We’re thrilled to work with such a unique and modern talent to bring this epic journey into the homes of children – young and old – everywhere.”

The Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure exclusive hard cover art book edition features some of Johnny’s amazing toy photography across 224 amazing pages and gives us a peek directly into our collective childhood with Johnny’s incredible vision for his toys.  Using full size common place locations and props, Johnny has blended the real and surreal into a vibrant representation of imagination as his photography takes you out of the humdrum of your daily life and reminds you what it is like to see things through the eyes of a child. The Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure Art Book is a fantastic journey into the imagination that we know will resonate with you, as this first collection of Johnny’s work and will take you on a visual tour of pop culture toys with tableaus that are refreshing, inspiring, and energetic.  This book is a source of joy that can be pulled off your bookshelf and shared with anyone to spark conversation and nostalgia.

Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure is currently being worked on by Johnny Wu.  He has sifted through thousands of photographs to find his favorites that represent a wide range of classic toys.  Backers who support the Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure Kickstarter have the opportunity to receive rewards, including digital editions, hard cover art books, variant covers, full print collections, artist signed editions, and the opportunity to have your favorite toy photographed in an exclusive Johnny Wu photo shoot! With tiers designed to fit any collector’s budget, backers will have the potential to enjoy a number of great rewards, including:

Digital pdf of Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure,

A Kickstarter exclusive hard cover edition of Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure,

A Johnny Wu signed Kickstarter exclusive hard cover edition of Ten Frames Per Second; An Articulated Adventure,

Additional digital and hard cover art books, including The Art of Alex Ross, Masters of Spanish Comic Book Art, and more!

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DYNAMITE ENTERTAINMENT PARTNERS WITH SOCIAL MEDIA SENSATION JOHNNY WU FOR THE LAUNCH OF THE TEN FRAMES PER SECOND KICKSTARTER CAMPAIGN Dynamite Entertainment is pleased to announce that they have partnered with social media sensation and pop culture photographer, Johnny Wu (aka @Sgtbananas) for the launch of their latest Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign, which will celebrate his work with a gorgeous Kickstarter exclusive hard cover art book, 

[therangerofthenorthernlands]

Tolkien Update #1 (7 June 2021)

GENERAL SPOILER WARNING FOR THE LORD OF THE RINGS

Hey guys, so I've finally finished with school and now I get to read to my heart's utmost desire. Therefore, I'll be giving regular updates on my journey through Tolkien's works. They will be very heartfelt posts, as Tolkien’s writing consistently manages to touch the deepest parts of my heart. I’ll probably go chapter by chapter for The Lord of the Rings, going over quotes that I loved or found interesting and making general comments... not sure what I'll do for the rest of the books. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Also I’m starting in the middle of the trilogy because that’s where I’m at right now. Retroactive posts may or may not come For now, here is my "review" of:

The Two Towers being the second part of The Lord of the Rings

Chapter 6 “The King of the Golden Hall” otherwise known as “Eowyn is a Fucking Badass”

To give a brief overall review, I found this chapter rather interesting. It chronicled the end of Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli's journey across the plains of Rohan and their arrival at the Golden Hall, Meduseld, the seat of King Theoden son of Thengel, in Edoras. I found Tolkien's specificity in ethnic distinctions between men from different regions of Middle Earth (men of Gondor vs. men of Rohan vs. Men of, for example, Bree) particularly fascinating. His attention for detail is absolutely spectacular. Also in this chapter, Eowyn is introduced, and let me tell you that I fell in love with this woman at first sight. Further commentary in the quotes down below, but damn I love her. I wanna be her. Not sure how I feel about the whole thing Tolkien is setting up between her and Aragorn, though... I definitely hated it in the movie but I feel a little bit better about it in the book. I believe Eowyn's representation is overall more thorough and better in the book than in the movie.

Quotes that I liked/highlighted from this chapter and perhaps some general commentary/observations to accompany them (If I don’t provide commentary for a quote, assume that I just thought it sounded pretty):

As the company approaches Rohan, Aragorn and Legolas observe the lineage of the royalty of Rohan. Legolas notes how insignificant the passage of these five hundred years is to the elves and Aragorn counters that “’…to the Riders of the Mark it seems so long ago,’ said Aragorn, ‘that the raising of this house is but a memory of song, and the years before are lost in the mist of time.’” (pg. 112)

Aragorn’s lamentable tone resonated with the deepest parts of my soul here. I believe that his reflection upon the “mist of time” here mirrors reflection on his Numenorean blood and extended age, and perhaps the alienation he feels from his kin because of these extraordinary traits.

A little later on Legolas observes the language of the Rohirrim and humbly notes that “‘[He] cannot guess what it means, save that it is laden with the sadness of Mortal Men.’” (pg. 112)

This quote kind of left me speechless, the melancholy in conjunction with Legolas’ humility in the observation of the culture of the race of man, a culture and a race that elves normally look down upon or scorn... It just makes you realize the innate goodness of Legolas, and makes me love him all the more.

“‘It is not clear to me that the will of Theoden son of Thengel, even though he be lord of the Mark, should prevail over the will of Aragorn, Elendil’s heir of Gondor.’“ (pg. 115)

...Everytime someone mentions Aragorn’s lineage it gives me chills. Every. Single. Time.

“‘In this elvish sheath dwells the Blade that was Broken and has been made again. Telchar first wrout it in the deeps of time. Death shall come to any man that draws Elendil’s sword save Elendil’s heir.’“ (pg. 115)

See above. Also, no idea who Telchar is yet. Maybe I’ll find out when I read The Silmarillion?

“‘Yet in doubt a man of worth will trust to his own wisdom.” (pg. 116)

Thought this was a good aphorism. Tolkien speaking straight facts.

“’...ill news is an ill guest they say.’“

See above.

“‘The wise speak only of what they know, Grima son of Galmod. A witless worm have you become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls.’“ (pg. 118) Gandalf putting the traitorous Grima in his place, as he should...

HERE’S WHERE THINGS GET INTERESTING

As the company proceeds outside with King Theoden, Tolkien provides the first description of his niece, Eowyn. “Grave and thoughtful was her glance, as she looked on the king with cool pity in her eyes. Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river of gold. Slender and tall she was in her white robe girt with silver; but strong she seemed and stern as steel, a daughter of kings. Thus Aragorn for the first time in the full light of day beheld Eowyn, Lady of Rohan, and thought her fair, fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come to womanhood. And she now was suddenly aware of him: tall heir of kings, wise with many winters, greycloaked, hiding a power that yet she felt. For a moment still as stone she stood, then turning swiftly she was gone.” (pg. 119)

Wow. And just like that, I’m head over heels for Eowyn in just a few words. Especially the bolded part. I just feel so empowered by this description. I love her. I want to be her. AND THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING OF HER BAD-ASSERY, as you will see in my following quotes. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love Miranda Otto, she’s amazing in the movies. However I do in fact adore her more in the books. BUT THEN THE DESCRIPTION OF ARAGORN FROM HER PERSPECTIVE. I WANT TO BE HIM TOO. I love them both, I love them all. I still don’t know how I feel about the romance that Tolkien is hinting at, though... Leaning toward not liking it especially.

“‘Alas!’ he said, ‘that these evil days should be mine, and should come in my old age instead of that peace which I have earned. Alas for Boromir the brave! The young perish and the old linger, withering.’“ (pg. 121)

I like Boromir more in the books, movie did him dirty :(

This is the second time an observation of this type has been made. The first was by Frodo to Gandalf in FOTR. Recurring themes people, recurring themes.

I forgot what number three was. Oh right, spot the aphorism!

“Arise now, arise, Riders of Theoden! Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward. Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded! Forth Eorlingas!” (pg. 122)

I always love Tolkien’s verse. Also the repetition of “Forth Eorlingas!” always hits different :’)

“‘If we fail, we fall. If we succeed--then we will face the next task.” (pg. 122)

Wise, pertinent words. (Spot the aphorism!)

“‘There is no rest yet for the weary.’“ (pg. 123)

yardy know... spot the aphorism! no, but, fr, i felt this. school’s tiring, dude. it’s over tho. good times!

“’Then even the defeat of Rohan will be glorious in song,’“ Aragorn says as King Theoden insists upon riding out to battle with the company, the Rohirrim, and the amassed male citizens of Edoras. “‘The Lord of the Mark will ride! Forth Eorlingas!’“

Chivalry, nobility, humility, and “Forth Eorlingas!” Honestly, what more could you ask for?

“‘Down, snake! ...Down on your belly! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps.’“ (pg. 124)

Gandalf’s confrontation of Grima. Noted because this exchange is transposed almost word for word in the movie (if I’m not mistaken) and I found it interesting.

Following King Theoden’s rallying of the troops, “already they heard below them in the town the heralds crying and the war-horns blowing. For the king was to ride forth as soon as the men of the town and those dwelling near could be armed and assembled.” (pg. 125)

The way Tolkien phrases this makes one feel so powerful.

“’Faithful heart may have froward tongue.’“ says King Theoden regarding Eomer. “’To crooked eyes truth may wear a wry face.’” says Gandalf about the same. (pg. 126)

Aphorisms, aphorisms, aphorisms! Love this man.

When asked what gift he would have from the King of Rohan, Gandalf petitions “give me Shadowfax! He was only lent before, if loan we may call it. But now I shall ride him into great hazard, setting silver against black: I would not risk anything that is not my own. And already there is a bond of love between us.’” (pg. 126)

I love Tolkien’s mention here of love and bonding with animals. Really highlights his special connection with nature and emphasizes the fact that we should all try to be closer with and kinder to our environment as a whole.

“Now men came bearing raiment of war from the king’s hoard, and they arrayed Aragorn and Legolas in shining mail. Helms too they chose, and round shields: their bosses were overlaid with gold and set with gems, green and red and white.” (pg. 127)

Powerful. Just... no words. Powerful.

“’Indeed sooner I would I bear a horse than to be borne by one.’” says Gimli the dwarf. (pg. 127)

Some comic relief from the comedic legend that is Gimli son of Gloin, the dwarf.

HERE WE GO BABY HERE COMES EOWYN MY LOVE

Speaking of who should take charge of Rohan in the absence of Theoden and Eomer, “there is Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, [Eomer’s] sister. She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her. Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.’ ...Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors, and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corslet.” (pg. 128)

YES! JUST, YES! NEED I SAY MORE? NEED I REPEAT MYSELF? NEED I EMPHASIZE MY UNENDING LOVE FOR EOWYN?

AND HERE WE GO AGAIN WITH THIS BAD-ASSERY

“Aragorn looked back s they passed towards the gate. Alone Eowyn stood before the doors of the house at the stair’s head; the sword was set upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun.” (pg. 128)

*INTERNAL SCREAMING OVER HOW MUCH I ADORE AND WANT TO BE THIS AMAZING POWERFUL WOMAN*

“‘Men need many words before deeds.’“ says Gimli the dwarf. (pg. 128)

Aphorism >:)

“‘An axe is no weapon for a rider.’” says Legolas to Gimli. “And a Dwarf is no horseman. It is orc-necks I would hew, not shave the scalps of Men.’“ (pg. 128)

Love Gimli’s enthusiasm. Right attitude, right execution.

It’s too long for me to effectively quote it but on pg. 129 there’s a pretty humorous exchange between Eomer and Gimli. Love the character dynamics of the two, and I love their interactions. They’re great, especially considering the emergence of their burgeoning friendship!

“’Here now I name my guest, Gandalf Greyhame, wisest of counsellors, most welcome of wanderers, a lord of the Mark, a chieftain of the Eorlingas while our kin shall last; and I give to him Shadowfax, prince of horses.’” Theoden to Gandalf. (pg. 129)

Don’t know what Greyhame means. Gandalf has so many names that sometimes (*cough* all the time *cough*) I get lost. Besides that, this passage gives me chills. The whole atmosphere and tone of it. The humility between two completely different yet eerily similar people. The power in kindness.

Continuing in this same thread, “’Behold the White Rider!’ cried Aragorn, and all took up the words. ‘Our King and the White Rider!’ they shouted. ‘Forth Eorlingas!’ The trumpets sounded. The horses reared and neighed. Spear clashed on shield. Then the king raised his hand, and with a rush like the sudden onset of a great wind the last host of Rohan rode thundering into the West.” (pg. 129-30)

Internal screaming at how much this gives me chills. I cannot express enough how much I love Tolkien’s writing. Also, istg that I’m gonna end up with “Forth Eorlingas!” stuck in my head for the next millennia for how much I absolutely adore it.

Aaaaaaaand I guess that’s pretty much it for this chapter? Really honestly short post really. Definitely not long. No. Yeah. Really long post. Wow. Wasn’t expecting to write that much, but here we are! And I’m happy! Well then, all my love to Tolkien and all my love to you dear reader if you have somehow made it this far. I hope see you in the next update! Until then I must say: Forth Eorlingas!

[anglenews]

There’s a good reason why Trump never apologizes

December 2, 2017 | 8:29am Modal Trigger The president gets people to stop talking about past outrages by simply creating more seemingly every day. AP At some point in your journey to become a good adult, you learned that it is important to apologize for bad behavior. Ideally, an apology allows you to acknowledge your mistake, atone for it, show contrition, demonstrate empathy, explain what you learned from it, offer a solution for avoiding the same problem in the future and move past it. When it comes to personal interactions, apologies are a good strategy, at least when done right. A bad apology makes things worse, but a good one can often get you the result you want, as in getting past the problem. But here’s where it gets interesting: The normal rules of social behavior don’t always translate to politics. When politicians apologize, it can sometimes make things worse. For example, we watched as Sen. Al Franken apologized for his inappropriate behavior with Leeann Tweeden. Observers gave him high marks for doing his apology right. Tweeden even accepted the apology. The problem is that more accusers came forward, and that required more apologies. If yet more accusers come forward, the public and the media will demand even more apologies. And the apologies can create their own stories, keeping Franken in the headlines far more than he wants. Each of us carries in our minds some idea of what a proper apology looks like. That means any sort of apology that is not pitch-perfect and universally recognized as such creates more problems — at least in a political sense. Franken eventually apologized two more times, as new allegations surfaced, making his apologies a target-rich environment for his haters. Did he apologize correctly this time? Was it enough? Was it sincere? Why did it take three tries? Should we ask him to do it again, only better? If you want less attention on your mistakes, multiple apologies won’t necessarily get you there. And while you are doling out your apologies, you remind the public that you are flawed and weak. That’s not a good look for a leader. The longer that the public dwells on your mistakes, the more important they seem. Now, let’s now consider President Trump, the world’s most famous non-apologizer. He did once apologize for his comments on the infamous “Access Hollywood” recording, but that was a special case. Beyond that one situation, he avoids apologizing for any kind of error or misstep. Is that a good strategy for a president? Generally, no. But in the special case of President Trump, he makes it work. I’ll tell you how. If you believe the fact-checkers, Trump should be spending a few hours every day apologizing for getting facts wrong. If you believe the pundits, he should spend another hour every day apologizing for his provocative tweets. And let’s not forget the 10 offensive things he says every time the camera points at him or he’s near an open mic. For this president in particular, apologizing for imperfections would be a full-time job. And it would make him look weak. So what does the Non-Apologizer-in-Chief do instead of apologizing? He creates an unending stream of provocations so the pundits always have something new to jabber about. The press can’t spend much time on the old outrages when new things are coming at them like lawn furniture in a hurricane. The functional purpose of a political apology is to persuade the public to stop thinking about the underlying offense. President Trump accomplishes the same thing by flooding the field with so much provocation that you can’t spend much time thinking about any single affront. For this president in particular, apologizing for imperfections would be a full-time job President Trump also uses provocation to force the media to focus where he wants them to focus. As I write this, CNN is reporting that the president’s retweets of so-called “far-right” videos showing Muslim violence against non-Muslims goes “too far.” Some say it is racist. Some say it is needlessly provocative. Some say it is offensive. But while people are objecting to the president’s tweets, they are thinking about Muslim violence against non-Muslims. And the media keeps showing us the images. Humans are visual creatures, so we will remember the videos long after we forget that pundits said the president went too far. We’ll forget this outrage because he will go “too far” on another topic within hours. The visual persuasion from the videos will stick with us longer than whatever the pundits said about it. President Trump gets the persuasion win for his immigration argument, and he’s already conjuring up new rabbits for the press to chase. If your brand as a politician involves being a nice person who cares about puppies and rainbows, apologizing for your mistakes is a good strategy and it fits your brand. But if you happen to be a politician whose brand is built around strength and political incorrectness, apologies would just give your critics easy targets while making you look weak. President Trump can thrive without apologizing so long as he is persuading in a direction that is (arguably) good for the country, he controls the public’s focus with new provocations and he is consistent with his brand. None of that applies to the rest of us. So work on your apologies. You’ll need them. Scott Adams is the creator of the Dilbert comic and author of “Win Bigly — Persuasion in a World Where Facts Don’t Matter.” Share this: Source http://www.anglenews.com/theres-a-good-reason-why-trump-never-apologizes/

[fntstory-blog]

These Hallowed Halls (part I)

In which our heroes are welcomed back on solid earth. chapter i | chapter ii 

The next few weeks were spent navigating more familiar seas; the Numanari Approach took the Maiden and her crew around the tip of Vodacce and the Signore Islands and into the Widow’s Sea and past Castille and Montaigne. From there, she swung North from her Westerly bearings and passed through the Montaigne/Avalon Strait which would take her to Wandesborrow’s docks. The Ivory Maiden sailed at a fraction of her speed, the trip stretching into weeks upon weeks, for all the damage she had endured over the course of her far-flung travels. The crew undertook what repairs they could while at sea, working suspended from ropes and using small saws on rope and wood.

Haru, for his own duties, was put on light work to give him a chance to recover, and this last leg of their journey proved to be an idyllic time for conversing and spending time with Owen. He had begun to learn the names of the men, get to know how they lived and how they enjoyed time away from their backbreaking labor. Lord Berek sent letters with every ship that happened by and part of Haru’s work was to ferry the letters back and forth with Mr. Beckett. The small jollyboat was also put out to sea to allow him to learn more of sails, navigation, and seamanship; it was amazing how much Mr. Beckett knew, at such a tender age. The journey even left its marks upon the young lieutenant; his face and frame grew leaner and less youthful as he entered his teenage years. His face, too, had no shortage of acne and he sought Haru’s assistance in covering and ridding himself of the damn marks.

If Haru evoked fraternal feelings within Lannigan, he in turn treated young Beckett much the same outside of their lessons. The lieutenant’s unfortunate spots were treated with natural ingredients taken from the ship’s stores, Haru cursing the lack of green tea which he swore by. He passed along other pieces of knowledge, too, most dealing with personal grooming and care; he was determined to see Beckett pass from adolescence to manhood as gracefully as possible. (Though the art of shaving would have to be learned from someone else; Haru’s face remained youthfully smooth and he felt uncomfortable imparting what he knew of the practice as what he knew he gleaned from watching Hayes at his morning ablutions).

When not placed in near-constant mortal peril, Haru found that life on the Ivory Maiden was quite … comfortable wasn’t quite the word, as the cramped quarters were just that, and enjoyable didn’t fully fit, either, but there was something to be said for the rhythm he finally settled into. Mr. Beckett proved an invaluable teacher and Haru an eager student; the pair might have presented an unlikely, even comical, picture, but that he came into his nautical own in these weeks spoke volumes to the young lieutenant’s ability.

While his days were spent in the company of Beckett and the crew, and with each passing day Haru found himself liking these rough yet honest men more and more, his evenings were devoted to languid hours with Owen and posing ever more questions to Berek during their dinners. Being so close to Avalon, Haru’s curiosity about the place only grew and nearly everyone on the ship was subject to a seeming unending barrage of questions on customs and beliefs, people and places, history and myth. Hayes’ collective of books were voraciously devoured leading the captain to believe his lover never actually slept.

What struck him the most in these weeks, however, was the truth in the adage of things staying the same despite changing. While he gained nautical knowledge and became more comfortable amongst his Thean shipmates, he retained much of his old ways. His hair stayed long, though by now white was giving way to natural jet black, and on the rare occasion he wore shoes he stuck with the familiar wooden sandals he had come on board with. He still practiced his religion, praying in his room and leaving small offerings to kami and Goodly Folk alike. And though his duties were light, the daily exercise saw lean muscle developing on his slender frame; when he did finally catch his own reflection, Haru was struck by how closely he resembled his brother.

When word came that they would be putting into port and allowed off ship Haru went into a near-frenzy, picking through what few garments he had in his possession. Not since his days attending his daimyo’s court had he put so much thought into what to wear; his fretting might have been a point of mockery, but this would be his first time stepping foot on his new homeland and he wanted desperately to present as perfect a picture as he could. That inborn Crane pride and vanity demanded nothing less.

Forgoing his well-worn wear, he retrieved his remaining secondary kimono from its chest (the formal silk was given a longing look before being discounted; it wasn’t made for traipsing through town) and donned along all the accompanying accoutrements. A lacquered comb, rarely used of late, was run through ombre locks, detangling and smoothing the unruly mess which was left, for now, loose. Over this distinctly Rokugani garb went a Thean jacket, a cast-off that had been tailored to better fit, while his wakizashi was tucked into the obi at his waist. It surprised Haru how odd it felt to be wearing the blade once more after going so long without it.

It was an unusual look, to be sure, but it best represented the transplanted Rokugani.

Orderly lines marched off the ship as the lieutenants unleashed the sailors upon the town. Haru set foot on a stone port for the first time in what seemed liked ages, joined by Mr. Beckett. Stepping from gangplank to solid earth, he was surprised by how unnatural the ground felt to legs and feet now long accustomed to the constant rocking of a ship. Though he had Beckett as company, he hung slightly back, waiting for Owen but also to give himself a few moment’s time to take in the alien sights and sounds and smells of an Avalonian port town.

It was, perhaps, fated that a small voice would cry, “Oi, lads! Lookit that foreign lady!” A small crowd of gawkers appeared, with a smallish dock lad pointing at Haru with an outstretched finger, snaggle-toothed mouth open in a gape.

The urchin and his assembled cronies were met with an indignant look from Haru, though he refrained from comment. He just arrived, after all, and he didn’t want to devote any more time or attention to this unexpected bit of rudeness than was absolutely necessary. Instead, he cast a glance about his immediate surroundings, taking in as much as he could.

Of the most interest were the people, but only because there were so many of them. Sailors, merchants, laborers and lords, Haru watched them all, taking in the differences in their clothing and carriage. Beckett, being close by, was questioned mercilessly about the choices passing strangers made and what it all meant. A Swordsman made a particularly strong impression as he had become quite taken with the notion of Thean dueling thanks to the more romantically-tinged adventure novels in Owen’s collection. He knew little of fighting with a cutlass from seeing Owen in action and his lessons with Beckett, but he longed to see another style especially as demonstrated by a master.

As interesting as the mixing of classes was (and how it boggled his mind that the men he took for lords were not given a wide berth as they passed through crowds) the sight of his first Avalonian woman proved downright shocking. In Rokugan, women’s dress covered them from throat to ankle, with geisha only revealing the back of the neck in a show of subtle eroticism. Here, the entire female form was on display for all to see. Small waists flared into wide hips which gave him enough pause as he tried to work out how this was possible, while throats and the tops of swelling breasts could plainly be seen despite heavy cloaks and capes and, indeed, were the focus of fashion and attention. Curls framed painted faces, the Avalonian fashion favored reddened cheeks and lips he saw, though many ladies carried parasols to protect delicate complexions from the winter’s weak sun.

“Do all Thean women look like this?” He quietly asked Beckett, as if the boy was an expert on the subject.

Beckett flushed and shrugged a shoulder. “Well, that, err, is to say, Mr. Haru, that … I suppose it’s the case?” He offered, looking up to Owen as the captain joined them. He had been the last off the ship, as was custom.

“Not all Thean women,” Owen replied, saving his lieutenant from himself. “There are subtle differences, of course, from place to place and woman to woman.” He gave Haru and Edward a crooked, conspiratorial grin “Well, shipmates, shall we find something to eat?”

Beckett offered a quick nod. “Aye, captain, and right away, I should think!”

“Let’s take the long way, shall we, Haru?” Owen suggested, fully intending to tour through the market. Haru fell into step beside the captain and almost immediately fell behind, his attention diverted by a particularly interesting passing pair. Besides the people, now that they were in the market proper, there were stalls and criers to contend with; Haru seemed intent on stopping at nearly every single one, eyes greedily taking in all to be seen.

His neck craned to see a selection of brightly colored fabrics as they wound their way through the market then, again, to catch a display of kettles and teacups and saucers. So distracted was he by, well, everything, that he found himself rather rudely jostled back as he accidentally ran into the broad-backed fellow before him. Looking ahead, now, all he could make out was a frustratingly large and immobile crowd. Another observation he had been quick to make: By Avalonian standards he was rather short.

Still, despite the mass of people, Haru’s eyes found the Swordsman once more and, now, he took in the brightly colored tabbard he wore over his clothes and the small buckler on one arm. So distracted, he was surprised to find himself surrounded by a ring of people who had taken to staring at him. His appearance had begun to create a buzz through the crowd, beginning with the stalls he had stopped at and moving along, following him unseen like one of the kami. Now, it swirled about him, a sea of wide eyes and gaping mouths and hushed voices pierced by the occasional loudly spoken comment or question. The situation was an uncomfortable one and he quickly cast about for an exit.

Beckett straightened in indignation as more snippets of conversation marking Haru as a very striking woman reached his ears. “Mr. Haru, these bloody idiots think you’re - you’re …!” He seemed ready to take a step forward, though Owen’s hand clapped on his shoulder stopping him.

“I’m sure Mr. Haru can handle his own affairs, lieutenant,” Owen cautioned; he had taken in the size (and easily swayed mood) of the crowd, too.

Beckett seemed to want to protest, but he finally nodded, defeated. “Aye, sir.”

Owen gave his younger shipmate an approving smile, then pointed over the crowds to a sign hanging on a wooden post: The Old Bull. “Seems we’ve arrived. Make way, please!” He called in his captain’s voice, causing the crowd to instinctively part for the trio. Beckett kicked the shin of one of the men who’d been speaking a bit too loudly, sending the man howling and hopping back to disappear behind the crowd.

Ignoring those closest to him, though it was a difficult and trying thing, Haru summoned every once of Rokugani bushido bravado he could and pushed his way through the crowd, one hand resting on the hilt of the wakizashi at his side. More than one person gasped and grunted in surprised disapproval and he heard a few variations of ‘foreign bitch’ thrown his way. And though it was sorely tempting, he said nothing to set anyone aright regarding his gender; doing so would keep them rooted to one spot for an eternity and Haru would rather spend that time taking in more of the sights with his lover and friend.

Thankfully, the crowd didn’t follow them inside. Of course, Haru was made uncomfortable yet again as, upon entering the tavern, the music went through a lilt as people gaped at him for a moment, before slowly turning back to their drinks, food, or fiddle playing.

“I see we’ve been beaten here,” Hayes remarked dryly, nodding to Doctor MacMorgan, already drowsing in a corner set, several mugs stacked and tilted down in front of him.

Looking to where Hayes gestured, Haru suppressed a laugh. “Perhaps we should leave him,” he said, his voice low, “I had thought I escaped his awful playing when we left the ship …”

“If you were dismayed at his playing, I’m not certain what you’d think of his singing voice.”

Haru pulled a grimace, showing what he thought of the prospect. Thankfully, Doctor MacMorgan seemed more suited to drowse in the corner of the establishment. He painted the picture of a large slumbering bear, projecting a feeling of ease in his closed eyes and crossed arms.

Hayes found a quiet table to sit at and called for a bill of fare, which a serving girl brought over. She was roughly the same age as Beckett, though a touch taller and smooth-skinned, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed and no doubt a sight for Edward’s sore eyes. He busied himself with trying to look impressive and well-mannered.

Owen looked over the tavern’s fare, finger tapping his chin thoughtfully as he rattled off the local dishes. “Roast potatoes and lamb … beef and leeks … even Whistwick puddings!” He peered over at Haru with a half grin. “Shall we order them all, so you can try them?”

Haru recognized some of the dishes being rattled off, most of the fare was a mystery, albeit a tantalizing one; he was incredibly curious about Avalon’s cuisine when divorced of the confines of one of Her Majesty’s ships. Surely, no weevils would be found in the bread in what he assumed to be a respectable establishment. He nodded to Hayes’ suggestion, though a sly smile accompanied the gesture. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were trying to fatten me up with all this food …”

Owen laughed, returning the sly smile. “You’re still rail thin, Haru, and after what we’ve been through, some rich food will benefit us all. Or perhaps I’m letting Avalon’s cuisine entice you even further.”

“I’ll place the order, sir!” Beckett eagerly supplied, nearly jumping from his seat.

Hayes laughed and waved the boy along, “Right, off you go to your fair maiden.”

Beckett flushed. “I … I just wanted to make certain everything befits the captain of the Ivory Maiden.”

“Quite, good Mr. Beckett, quite,” came the captain’s wry retort. He removed his hat, balancing it on one knee, and ran a hand through his hair to brush it back. Beckett nodded and strode to the bar. Once Edward was there, and fully engaged with the serving girl, Owen sighed wistfully and placed a hand over Haru’s. “I’m not ready for him to get any older, Haru.”

Haru’s eyes followed Beckett as he made his way to the bar and commenced in an innocent fliration with the girl. Though not very many years separated them in age, he found himself looking on the scene with a bit of wistful nostalgia; to be so young and just discovering oneself and love … Hayes’ hand on his own brought his mind and attention back to the present. Placing his free hand atop the captain’s, he gave him a reassuring smile.

“You sound like a wistful parent … Our Mr. Beckett won’t remain a child forever, but he’s had an excellent mentor and role model in you, Owen. He’ll be a fine young man to make anyone proud.”

“I hope so. The navy is a brutal profession, despite all our pomp and circumstance. Sometimes I wish Beckett’s parents had steered him into politics or …” He stopped, smiling and shaking his head. “But wishes are nothing but phantoms, aren’t they? The Beckett we have now is still a dear friend of mine … and I’m entitled to mourn the passing of his youth.”

Beckett returned, assisting the giggling serving girl with a large platter of bread, hard cheese, and beer. Apparently this would be a dining style much like Jeremiah Berek preferred, one in multiple courses. Haru was relieved, however, that the use of a fork and knife seemed to only be a suggestion.

In mixed company once more, Haru carefully extracted his hand from Owen’s and assisted in the passing around and placement of dishes and mugs. Owen did the same declaring, “Now here’s a proper feast!” He gave Beckett and the young miss a grateful smile; she missed it, all her attention on the young lieutenant. She remained thusly enthralled even after she returned to the bar.

Everything smelled wonderful, Haru was pleased to note, and as the three tucked in, he looked to Beckett.

“Will you be visiting your family while we’re in port?” Owen’s earlier comment had sparked a thought and that was that Haru knew next to nothing about the lieutenant’s life outside of the ship they shared. “Or has your young lady taken all your attention?” This was said with an affectionate, mild teasing. “She is very pretty, after all …”

“Hm?” Beckett was distracted, but quickly recovered. “Oh, well, no. My family’s estate is outside of Carleon. I’ll visit them after we’re done with the admiralty.” He flushed bright red and Owen chuckled, hiding a grin behind a soft roll. “She — she probably sees ten better than me every moment, Mr. Haru. Besides, my father would never approve …”

Owen’s grin faded slowly and he tilted his head. “Lord Beckett isn’t *here*, Edward. Talk to her.”

“I know something of dispproving fathers, Beckett-san,” Haru said, gently, “And I can give you this advice: Your father need not know every detail of your life. Talk to the girl, take what happiness that comes to you when it comes without question. And do not doubt yourself so; she’s casting eyes only at you.”

Beckett took in the advice, poking and prodding thoughtfully at the food before him, before he asked them both in a whisper, “Should I — should I ask her to dance?”

Owen smiled. “That would be a good start, Mr. Beckett. Here.” He dug into his pocket and came out with a shilling, handing it over to the young lieutenant. “For the fiddler,” he explained.

Beckett beamed at him. “Thank you, sir, Mr. Haru.” He nodded to them both, almost tripping his gawky legs over the bench in his hurry.

Of everything that had been prepared and was laid before him, Haru’s favorite remained the simple, soft rolls. The other fare, while delicious, was still too rich and heavy for his taste (and stomach) and, Owen’s comment on his thinness notwithstanding, he had no desire to put on an abundance of excess weight. With an air of grace, he buttered one of the rolls, his skill in handling knives and forks much improved, and directed a question to Hayes.

“Do you ever wish your father had … dissuaded you from joining the navy?” The topic was carefully broached; for all his traveling ‘round the world to be with the man he loved, he knew precious little of Owen’s background and family.

“My father and mother …” Hayes began, taking a moment to dab a napkin at his mouth, “They let me explore. I didn’t join the navy on their insistence. I was only a boy when they were lost at sea. My uncle moved in after that and stands currently at the manor. He wanted me to join the army, I think. But I wanted to understand the thing that took my parents. He never truly agreed with my appointment in the navy.” There was a pain in his eyes, but it was a scar, not a fresh wound. “I’d have made a terrible soldier, all that marching …” A lopsided smirk crossed his face.

Looking up, he met and held Hayes’ eyes, one hand coming to rest briefly against a rough cheek. “I’m sorry for your loss, truly. And just as truly, I’m glad you went to sea …”

“Such things happen, Haru, beyond anyone’s control … but thank you. I’m glad that I was swept along to Rokugan.”

Both had more to say, but the sound of a fiddle interrupted, turning their attention from conversation to what passed for a dance floor in the tavern. Haru had heard some fiddling aboard the Ivory Maiden, from what he could gather the Innish were particularly fond of the instrument, and he much preferred its sounds to the doctor’s contraption. The dancing, however, was completely new to his eyes. Again, on the ship, he had seen singular jigs performed, but never had he seen a couple moving in time to music. In Rokugan, there was no concept of social dance; it was a performing art, reserved for theater or a geisha’s skilled entertainment, and never done with as much earnestness as Beckett and his lady displayed.

The unfolding scene soon brought a smile back to Haru’s lips and, with a touch more enthusiasm than previously shown, he sampled all the foodstuffs that mysteriously made its way onto his plate.

Hayes smiled warmly, thumping his foot on the floor in time to the tune and, suddenly, the entire inn was doing the same. There was something liberating about the closeness of it all, none of the silent pretense of a Rokugani theater, each person a different, solitary mind. This was a riot of good will, people hopping up to join in the dance, laughing.

On a whim, Hayes took Haru by the arm, tugging him up and out of his seat. “Let’s join them, come on!” He said encouragingly, all smiles and good cheer.

Haru squawked slightly in surprise. He would have been content to sit and act as a silent observer; for as inviting as it all seemed, a part of him clung to Rokugani ideals of reservation and decorum. And though he remembered the captain’s boast of being an excellent dancer, he hadn’t thought the man would have them both join the crowd. “Owen, I don’t know if this is a good idea …”

“It’s a terrible idea!” Owen conceded, still grinning widely and leading Haru to where the fiddler continued his playing. “It’s no different than those kah-tahs that Ishoya used to perform,” he said, trying to assure his lover’s worries.

Haru doubted that the dance was anything like Ishoya’s katas, but he kept this to himself. His wooden sandals clopped on the slotted floor, marking a different time than the heavy leather soles on everyone else’s feet. Coming to the edge of the crowd, he cast a somewhat nervous glance at the spinning, stepping pairs. Up close, the movements that had seemed so simple now looked incomprehensible, feet flashing too fast for him to make sense of anything. Looking up at Owen, he said, “I hope you have as much faith in your teaching skills as you do in your dancing, Captain Hayes …”

“I need none of that, Haru, I’ve faith in *you.*” Hayes took his hand, pressing their palms together, his other hand resting at Haru’s waist. The movements that followed were obviously meant for flat-heeled shoes and not sandals, but the pattern behind them began to emerge. This wasn’t courtly dance, it was something done by the peasantry and, thus, it was easier than a nobleman’s affair. Still, Hayes knew the steps well and imparted them with impressive ease. Owen had patience and seemed to know where Haru would snarl the steps and he helped him untangle his feet time after time before the movements became natural.

At first, Haru kept his eyes glued to the floor, trying to mimic the steps Hayes so effortlessly made. It was a slow and, at times, frustrating, process, punctuated with repeated sheepish utterings of “Sorry” and “Gomen” as he accidentally stepped on toes or bumped into another body. However, with enough repetition and warm encouragement from Hayes, he did eventually pick up on the thing. Not for the first time, he marveled at how freeing it was, to be in a place, and amongst a group of people, that had no concept of Face or the rigid social structures of Rokugan. He was free to make mistakes, learn from them, even laugh at his own bumbling.

Owen’s hand at the small of his back, the closeness of their bodies, at times pressed closer if an over-eager pair spun too wide, this, too, was an exhilarating, freeing thing.

“Here’s the fun bit …” Hayes grinned wickedly, taking both of Haru’s hands and stepping back, forming a peak as Beckett and his lady danced through the bridge of arms with a few shouts of joy from the assembled dancers. Out of the corner of his eye, Haru saw Doctor MacMorgan come to life, sitting up and fetching his awful concertina to stand at the fiddler’s shoulder. Both instruments seemed to be made to function in league with each other and the box didn’t sound quite so terrible. Eventually, it was Hayes and Haru’s turn to rush under the expanse of arms, though they had to duck lower to it through Beckett and his companion’s bridge. Once they ended their travel, the song began to die down and people applauded each other and the fiddler.

Haru was approached several times for a shake of hands as they mingled freely with the patrons of the tavern and, after a while, he began to feel more comfortable and he was fairly sure that at least in this place people had caught on that he was indeed a man. They were curious, of course, asking question after question, which Haru answered graciously. He felt less pressed by this group than he had by the crowd in the market. His accounts of Rokugan, and his journey to Avalon, were heavily edited, but he did not leave out the high regard he held for the crew, to a man, of the Ivory Maiden.

After some time, Hayes appeared and Haru apologized for leaving so much unanswered, though he doubted he could answer every question put to him (and in this moment he felt a pang of sympathy for what he must have put Lord Berek through). He followed Hayes and Beckett back to their table and reclaimed his abandoned seat. Picking up his mug of beer, he smiled over the brim of it at Beckett, saying, “You’re positively beaming, Beckett-san. Having a sweetheart suits you …”

Beckett smiled, his face a-glow, and sighed dreamily, “Her name is Annie …”

Owen shared a clandestine smile with Haru at their love-struck’s friend expense. “Well done, Beckett,” he remarked, settling back against the wooden wall of the tavern. Haru had a feeling they would be hearing much of Annie and her various charms in the coming days and weeks.

The music eventually died down, with the fiddler making his rounds and accepting a pittance of coins from each table. Doctor MacMorgan chastised those who didn’t loosen their pursestrings sufficiently and, once the fiddler made his exit, he joined Hayes and Haru and Beckett at their table.

“Ah, gentlemen, what a wondrous afternoon it was. Hopefully the night will be just as lovely.” He eyed Haru with a chuckle. “And you, Mr. Haru! Did you enjoy the little tune we played? The Handmaiden’s Basket it was called; one of the very first songs I did learn on my poor concertina.”

“I did, indeed, doctor!” Haru said, speaking honestly for once on the man’s playing. “Your concertina plays much better on land … The fiddle complimented it beautifully.”

“Yes, yes, but I was told of a good fellow who will look at it … If, that is, we’ll be staying in port until the next noon?” MacMorgan eyed Hayes seriously, pulling down his glasses a hair.

Hayes laughed, nodding. “We’ll take on supplies and we’ve a mizzenmast that needs to be fixed. It should keep us busy a few days before we depart for Carleon.”

MacMorgan thumped a fist on the table. “Brilliant! I’ll obtain a surgeon for my concertina and perhaps inquire about some fresh medical supplies of my own …”

“What are the day’s remaining plans?” Haru asked, glancing about at his companions. “Will we see more of the city?” He tried not to sound overly eager, but it was plain he desired to see as much as possible of this new place.

“We’re free of duty for the time, Mr. Haru,” Hayes answered. “I should get a letter to my uncle while I’m in port.” His tone gave away the fact that this task wasn’t one he much relished the thought of.

Beckett cleared his throat. “Annie will be showing me the sights, so I’m afraid I’ll be indisposed …”

Doctor MacMorgan shook with laughter. “Oh, go on, ye young rogue!” Beckett turned scarlet from his collar to his ears.

Haru weighed his options, teeth catching and worrying at the inside of one cheek; he wasn’t ready to retire just yet, but the prospect of exploring on his own raised some internal concerns. Still, if he didn’t stray too terribly far he should be safe enough …

“I think I’ll strike out on my own,” he said with a decisive nod. “There’s still so much more to see and I would rather not waste the opportunity by going to bed early and alone …” That this course of action would change if Owen were retiring as well would not be missed by the captain.

“I’ll be careful,” he continued, warding off any words of friendly warning. “Though … Should I return here or to the ship? I have no money to pay for a room and it’s been explained I can hardly demand free boarding …” He felt more than a little silly asking the question; surely, the answer was an obvious thing to his more seasoned companions.

“If that’s what you decide, Mr. Haru.” Owen smiled and nodded and he got the feeling that the captain would probably come along once his duties were seen to. “I’ll book the officers’ rooms here in the Old Bull. If you’d like, Haru, you can return here.”

Doctor MacMorgan scoffed. “A crime! Captain, to send a sailor into the city with not even a shilling to his name? For *shame*!” He dug into his coat, producing a few large silver coins. “I’ll donate to this poor man’s warchest!” He slid the coins over to Haru. Mr. Beckett smiled and produced coins as well, followed by Owen.

“My tyrant’s hand, shown to be false, I suppose,” Owen drawled dryly, casting a sidelong glance to Haru.

The small pile of silver in front of Haru wasn’t much, but it was enough to enjoy himself, certainly. He balked, initially, at his companions’ generosity, but finally accepted the coins with a deep, albeit seated, bow. It felt strange, rude, to accept the gift upon its presentation, but he had learned that this was the Thean way of doing things. Early in his and Owen’s romance, the Avalonian had given him a small token and his initial refusal of it had lead to a gross misunderstanding and hurt feelings that had taken days to soothe.

“Domo arigatou gozaimashita,” he said, slipping into the formal words of his native tongue. “Thank you very much, I am greatly humbled by your generosity …” The Avalonian words didn’t seem, to his ears, to convey just how grateful he was. With great care the coins were collected, Hayes explaining each one’s worth, and placed in some secret pocket in the interior of his kimono; Haru knew enough to not carry money in the easily picked pockets of his jacket.

“Think nothing of it,” Doctor MacMorgan assured him, as the trio made their goodbyes.

Owen smiled and nodded. “Perhaps I’ll see if I can find you once the doctor and I have our discussion.”

MacMorgan held up a finger, “… about that advance … the concertina, you see …”

Beckett quickly weasled his way away from the table, disappearing among the tavern’s crowds to be with Annie.

Leaving the others to their own devices, Haru bid them farewell, thanking them again for the gifted money, and made his way out of the Bull to the streets beyond its front door. Looking down the way they had come, through the main vein of the marketplace, he could recall the route that took them from ship to cobbled shore. It was an enticing thought, to revisit the market, but more appealing was the prospect of streets yet unseen. Heading in the opposite direction, then, he set out to see what else the port town had to offer.