#sorry to keep beating this dead horse but i tried looking for the review i referenced in that damnèd post but only found more horrors

[nedlittle]

wow dude do you think oscar wilde may have been gay? should we tell the discord? should we inform rupaul?

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

Continuing my dissertation on why Supernatural is about Destiel even when Cas is not in the episode, and here is my analysis of 11x18 - The Chitters.

I initially had this episode on a “never watching again” because the monster grossed me out so much, but then I realized that the writers were giving us a literal Dean/Cas as husbands mirror story by doing this

and hiding it in an episode with the most grotesque MOTW imaginable (seriously, name a worse monster than underground creatures who impregnate humans with their eggs via orgy and leave them in a damn cave; oh and cause them to shake, chitter, and have glowy green eyes.  BRB, puking).

A little trickster moment in the beginning starting this episode with two brothers, and the eldest - Matt - dying in a *shocker* supernatural way, and the youngest - Jesse - then going on to dedicate his life to avenging his brother’s death.  A lot of reviewers consider this intro to mean we are supposed to be looking for Sam/Dean parallels in the following narrative bEcAusE tHAt is WhAT thE boYS wOuLD dO, but I POSIT TO YOU IT IS NOT ONLY A 10000000 percent DESTIEL STORY, BUT ALSO THAT this is established in the very first scene - the conversation between Jesse and Matt in the flashback:

JESSE

It finally happened.

MATT

What? You didn’t get detention this week?

JESSE

Me and Jackie, we kissed.

MATT:

Okay, can I stop hearing about him every two minutes now? “You think he likes me?”, “Jackie looked at me. I-I think he looked at me.”

JESSE

He definitely likes me.

***I mean Matt’s comment -  does this not immediately remind you of Sam “I am in constant Destiel super hell” Winchester?

For reference, here is Sam’s “I am in super hell please stop now” face:

**Also he LOOKED AT HIM?! What is 80% of Destiel if not subtextual pining and LOOKING.  I don’t make the rules.  Jesse is Dean.  And Matt is dead.  Matt’s death ENDS the “brother portion” of this story insofar as the parallel is concerned. (**please note I am not advocating for Sam to die.  the parallel is just NOT about the brother storyline in this episode - there are plenty of other “mirrors” for the brother storyline, but this is NOT one of them).

We cut to the real Dean continuing in FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED because Amara has Cas at this point and he is panicking.  

Was the red and black flannel an intentional wardrobe choice to mirror Jesse’s jacket?  We will never know. (Yes.  Everything is intentional.  This is Supernatural. We hate it here. Also Cesar is in a KHAKI vest because KHAKI means THINGS in Supernatural for REASONS). 

Also I love FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED desperately trying to get Cas back Dean.  It’s real “I just started studying for my final the night before at 10 p.m.” energy.  He’s refusing to stop to even look at Sam here:

Anyway, a few gross scenes of green eyed people, orgies, and a hilarious conversation about weed (or was it oregano?- 

Jensen Ackles you slay me) later -

Jesse and Cesar save Dean’s bacon and the four of them end up in a bar chatting over beers.  Here is where it is INCREDIBLY apparent that Jesse is a mirror for Dean (also I’d watch a bottle episode of these four hanging out doing regular every day stuff a la How I Met Your Mother or Friends).  

JESSE

One of them took my brother 27 years ago.

[Sam and Dean look surprised. Sam turns to Dean, and Dean is speechless.

DEAN

[looks to Jesse] I’m sorry to hear that.

JESSE

I’ve been waiting years to come back and have this shot at them. So, I hope you understand, I’m gonna ask you two to take a step back from this one.

DEAN

[nods] Well, catch us up. Where have you guys been?

JESSE

In the woods, where the action is, looking for their burrow and saving your ass.

[Sam is slightly taken aback, but he gives a look of approval. Cesar scoffs.]

JESSE

What?

CESAR

Well, one of the reasons we’ve been holed up in the trees is because Jesse hates the town and everyone in it.

JESSE

Because they’re ignorant and useless. [turns to Cesar] They didn’t believe me 27 years ago, they’re not gonna start now.

CESAR

[sternly] It’s boneheaded not to be following leads in town.

JESSE

Hey, nobody stopping you from talking to the whole box of crackers.

[Cesar sighs and looks away.]

***You could replace “Jesse” with “Dean” and the lines wouldn’t need to change an iota to stay in the character.  Cesar’s scoffing, the stern response, calling Jesse boneheaded, sighing, looking away exasperatedly - 100% Cas energy.  I really don’t make the rules. Cesar isn’t anything like Sam, and he isn’t meant to be.  This is not a brother story.  THIS IS A STORY ABOUT TRUE LOVE DAMMIT.

Dean makes that red herring comment about them bickering just like brothers , then:

Which by the way is EXACTLY how Dean and Cas bicker.  Hence why Sam is always in super hell.  

I can’t find a better quality image of this montage, but I really wanted to bring attention to the EXPRESSION on Dean’s face:

***Sure, Dean. You’re curious about what it’s like to live with a hunter.  Okay. 

Also, whoever made this, you get it.

They start arguing on the next step - questioning a former sheriff, or going back to the woods to search for the creepy crawlies’ hidey hole.

JESSE

[sternly] We need to find the burrow.

CESAR

[patiently] Jess, we’ve been beating around the woods for two days.

JESSE

[stubbornly] That’s where they are. You saw the tracks.

CESAR

I can keep searching on my own. We’re losing.

****sternly-patiently-stubbornly <- it’s like a never-ending Destiel refrain.  Cesar’s willingness to continue on what is purely Jesse’s quest for revenge so Jesse can move on is also so very Cas-adjacent.  I LOVE A SUBTEXTUAL PARALLEL.

Anyway, then they split into twos, pairing Sam with Jesse and Cesar with Dean for the next few scenes.  Lots of reviewers tracked this as a brother-brother (i.e. Sam is paired with the version of himself and Dean is paired with the version of himself) parallel, but THIS scene with Sam, Jesse, and the old sheriff SCREAMS otherwise:

JESSE

[angrily pushed Cochran down the chair] You son of a bitch.

[Sam moves forward to get Jesse back.]

JESSE

You knew the whole time! You knew where they were when everybody was suffering.

COCHRAN

[pushes Jesse off him] I was suffering too!

SAM

[pulls Jesse away from Cochran and tries to calm him down] Jesse. Hey, hey. Hold on. Hold on.

***EXCUSE ME, did he just say DEAN’S CATCHPHRASE.  And how many times has Sam done this exact thing to Dean when he is in a rage?!?   I DO NOT MAKE THE RULES.  

ALSO something about THE JUXTAPOSITION of Cesar and Jesse in the following scene.  This is very Dean with Cas quietly waiting for him to me.

A lot of creepy monster montage scenes and dead bodies later, the day is saved.  Cue adorable husband exchange, and the news that Jesse and Cesar are going to retire.  

SAM

So, uh, what’s freedom look like?

JESSE

Nice little spread in New Mexico. We’ve been paying on it for years. Set foot on it about … twice?

CESAR

Gonna raise horses. And if that goes bust, Jesse used to be an EMT.

JESSE

Oh, so now I’m supporting your ass?

[Cesar chuckles and looks at Jesse lovingly, before both men turns to the Winchesters. Sam follows the laugh.]

CESAR

 It’s time to start living.

Also this SHOULDER touch.  And it’s the left shoulder.  (there is a great Casifer post out there about how Dean was thrown off specifically because Casifer touched his RIGHT shoulder, and Cas always touches his LEFT).  

All I really need now is a FACE CUP, tbh.  

You want more parallels?  Recall that CESAR (aka Cas-adjacent) is the one who saves Dean’s bacon in the beginning.  

Then he helps him get up off the ground. You know, as in he RAISES him from -

(JENSEN YOUR ACTING CHOICES WITH THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE ILYSM)

Dean, realizing that he is watching an AU version of himself and his boyfriend/future husband:

Yes, hi, we are the same character.

Anyway, I will always and forever love this episode for showing us the ending Dean and Cas deserved (WHAT WAS THE REASONNNN) - settling down on a small ranch together in New Mexico.  At least these two got their happily ever after.

ALSO, MANIFESTING

Maybe then Sam can finally leave super hell.

BONUS:  

Sam: Couldn’t do it, huh?

Dean: [shakes head] No, didn’t feel right.

Sam: Yeah. I know what you mean. Two hunters who make it to the finish line?

Dean: Yeah, you leave that alone.

Saving this to my box of INCONSISTENCY TRASH DUMP FOR 15x20.

P.S. I am starting to develop a theory that the episodes we all like LEAST, and therefore tend to skip [or that have off putting plotlines/ don’t go with the general myth arc/creepy monsters/bizarre or even boring scenarios] are the ones with potentially the most subtext, and therefore the best underlying story line (so likely no Cas in the episode, random stuff like Red Meat, the creepy chitters monster that makes you want to cringe). 

So at the end of the day, the subtext was always the real story anyway.

(OMG I JUST REMEMBERED THAT THE GIRL WEREWOLF IN BLOODLINES WEARS A FUCKING KHAKI TRENCH COAT THE ENTIRE TIME.  AM I GOING TO HAVE TO REWATCH THE ALWAYS SKIPPABLE BLOODLINES NOW?  And that definitely means I am DOOMED to rewatch the worst episode that ever was when I get to season 15.  Dammit.  What have I done?!?!??!?!)

[allyvampirelass29]

Goodnight, Chris McQueen

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

I love you, Brat I hope you know that....... My biggest fear was becoming my old man Drinkin', philanderin', livin' for nothin' I wanted so much more for my little girl But Babe, I'm just like him A haunted soldier That never came back from the war I tried so hard to make you laugh Just so you didn't see me cryin' Funny names, and stupid jokes I guess, don't band-aid the holes Punched through the walls and in Your mother's heart Jesus, maybe this dad thing Was a cosmic hoax right from the start I love you like a big dog I'd die twice just to give you a hug Before I go, I want you to know I'm proud of my kid I could never do what you did It's like you told your ma You're made of steel, Vic You threw the bottle away You sure as hell didn't need me But you let your broken down dad save the day I ain't half the hero to you though As you are to Wayne Give 'em HELL, Babe Fight the good fight Don't cry over me I won't die as I lived A good for nothin' It's gonna mean somethin' I gotta believe Don't stay here, Brat, trapped in my death scene Remember the good stuff, when they say "Goodnight, Chris McQueen."

In the words of the illustrious Linda McQueen........ "Holy HELL." It's been days, and I've been in a morose fog, only just now emerging, shaking and fighting the tears, even as I write this, half numb, and half agony. I'm shocked, dismayed, and altogether fragile. The second I saw that this episode was going to be called, "Chris McQueen," I couldn't have been more thrilled, and my heart soared, excited! Chris McQueen has SHINED this season, our own resident white knight, slaying Vic's demons, both of the vice, and supernatural variety. It was no mistake, or random shuffle of fate, that her magic bridge led her back to her dad. He's been a gun-wielding, bomb-making, godsend!!! He helped her quit drinking, heartbroken that his little girl had inherited his disastrous coping mechanisms, refusing to let it drown her the way it did him. He's fought at her side, let her lean on him, he's become her safe place. He's given her the best advice about fighting for Lou, choosing her family, and oh yeah, he SINGLEHANDEDLY took on Bing Partridge, not just once, but TWICE!!!

If NOS4A2 has a CHAMPION, a dark horse in the game, it's hands down Chris McQueen. If anyone is deserving of their own personal, entitled episode, it's the vindicated father who did the work, fought like HELL for his redemption, made himself a better person for his daughter. That rush of flooding joy, cooled to wary concern, and hesitant dread, however, when I realized....... This honour could be his final tribute.......

Don't kill Chris McQueen........ I pleaded over and over in my mind, the frantic cry, resounding, even as I pressed play. I hadn't been able to shake that sinister, creeping feeling all day, and when we opened onto Chris at a funeral, my relief flooded in, graciously thankful to see him alive!!! Wait, he looked younger, like WAY younger, even younger than the first season, and oh my god, hold on, whose funeral is this!? Someone died........ my stomach knotting again, trying to figure out who, and we realize that this is Chris, decades ago, speaking at his Dad's funeral.

I loved, and I mean LOVED this opener. It's just so beautifully real, and one hundred percent Chris McQueen, as he muses about his father's life, and his own, and how the two came to mirror each other. He's funny, irreverent, vulnerable, and by the end, absolutely heartbreaking. It's a searing portrait of a broken man, and everything that caused his life to fracture, every death, that made him wish he was never born.

"When I came back from the gulf, I finally understood why he was pissed off all the time, because he knew there was no reason for him to born, and that nobody was going to give a shit when he died."

Chris' voice cracks, and my eyes sting, because I feel it, his greatest fear, and I know he's not just talking about his father, he's talking about himself, effectually delivering his own eulogy, and again I implored the fates...... Don't kill Chris McQueen.

Aaaaaaaaah, and HELLO Baby Vic!!! Oh my gosh, she's so precious, about eight years old, frowning as her father speaks, huddled close to her mother, and then when Chris becomes too overwhelmed with his anger and emotions to go on, tearing out of the church, she frantically chases after him, calling for him!!! Even then, she was her daddy's girl!!! Once again, I must COMMEND NOS4A2 for choosing the perfect miniature of our badass leading lady, because this girl is the very IMAGE of Ashleigh, and it was such a joy to see her fierce features, and resolve, in a dear little face!!! More Baby Vic, PLEASE!!!

Flashforward to the present day, and Team McQueen is ready and raring to hit the road. I loved this entire scene. The love between her and Lou as she tells him goodbye, and says, "I'm going to go get our boy." An achingly beautiful moment, these two give me life, and have become my FAVOURITE couple on the show!!! I may have been purely Team Drew Butler, Season One, but now I can't imagine our beautiful badass without her Teddy Bear Man, and I ship McCarmody so freaking hard!!! Vic revs the Triumph's engine, testing it, gearing up with her Dad, and it hits me....... She doesn't have to hide it, sneak away to go do her Creative Hero thing, he accepts her for exactly who she is, believes in her gift enough to go with her. For the first time..... Vic McQueen isn't riding alone........

Linda is an absolute rollicking delight, emphatic in her protest, and I have just come to LOVE her so much!!! "I don't know about this Vicki, taking explosives across a magical bridge IN THE RAIN!!!!" God BLESS this woman, she's so maternal here, and I love it, I see how much she's changed, becoming this mother and ex wife even, that isn't afraid to express her feelings and doubts, no longer shackled by the fear that she's destined to be alone.

"You're my only kid, Vicki, My Baby."

"You know me, Ma, made of steel, remember?"

Awwwwww oh my gosh, so freaking CUTE, and for the first time, they feel like a real family, The McQueen Clan on a Mission, slaying psychotic kidnappers, and rescuing lost children, becoming the family business. Linda's still unsure, hurrying after Chris and Vic, still thinking they're both CRAZY, when she sees it for the first time....... Her eyes widen impossibly, as a rickety, wooden, covered bridge, appears on the street in front of them, and her reaction is EVERYTHING we've been waiting for, I found myself, leaping off the couch, cheering as she says it. "Holy HELL!!!"

Chris' childlike wonder, as he looks up into the dark eves, and watches the bats flutter, the Triumph roaring through the beams of breaking light, weaving in and out of shadow, is such a joy to behold. He believed in it, believed in her, even without seeing, and it means that much more to Vic, you can tell. It's also symbolic, Vic sharing her world with her father, bringing him into her inscape, fighting the good fight TOGETHER, both soldiers. I loved it, every second.

Surprise, surprise, when they roll up to the junkyard, Bing Partridge isn't dead, because some cockroaches just won't DIE!!!! Like an AVENGING ANGEL, Chris McQueen is all of us, flying off that bike, and assailing Bing with murderous fury, backhanding his stupid face with the gun, over and over, impaling him deeper with the protruding rod, and I swear, I wanted to run to him, and HUG him so tightly, so freaking PROUD!!!! THANK YOU, CHRIS MCQUEEN!!!

"Where is he, you SICK, Son of a BITCH!?!?"

"HE CAN'T HELP US IF HE'S DEAD!!!!!"

Vic screams at her father, angrily chastising this good and proper beating that has been a LONG time coming!!!! I'm sorry, isn't that how ANY sane person would react to a sadistic, murdering, rapist whose made their life a LIVING HELL!? What gives, Victoria!? Chris falls back, as confused as I was, and then shakes his head, as he apologizes vehemently, which Vic is having none of. She's AWFUL to her father from this moment forward, rude and spiteful, blaming him for everything, and as much as I love the girl, in this unjust punishment, she REALLY lives up to her nickname, Brat.

This Kids Glove approach to Bing Partridge is MADDENING enough to make me PSYCHOTIC!!! BING. IS. EVIL. Say it with me, NOS4A2!!!! It's like they are hellbent on redeeming the ONE character that is beyond saving, a man that even God, himself, would look at reviled, and say, "Get thee behind me, SATAN!!!" Last week they failed, first through the deus ex machina epiphany, and then through the attempted murder/suicide, so they tried even harder, using a meeker approach, making him say manipulative propaganda like, "I wish I'd never met Mr. Manx, because then Vic McQueen would still be my friend." and "I'm all alone in here, and it's really scary." Ughhhh somebody, anybody, put us out of our misery, and put one right between his beady little rat bastard eyes.

I almost understand Tabitha's need to keep things professional, and speak to Bing, in a reassuring way that reaches his simple, monosyllabic mind. I get that beating the living hell out of him like he so obviously deserves isn't an option for her, but this man is a HEINOUS criminal, who's kidnapped kids, drugged and raped their mothers, KILLED both of his parents, not to mention TORTURED Charlie within an inch of his life, only just last week!!!! But by ALL MEANS, Vic, go HOLD HANDS WITH HIM, and see if that will help get your son back!!!! Cringe.

I HATED this, so, so, SO much!!! Bing was her friend, he betrayed her, violated the trust between them, became her worst nightmare, shot at her, traumatized her, duct-taping her to a chair, she should HATE him, despise the sight of him far more than Charlie Manx!!! I CRAVED a reckoning, even if it was just a verbal assault. But no, instead, Vic decides to play nice, and I get that most of it was an act to convince him to help her get her son back, but I could also feel NOS4A2's misguided hand in her actions. Look, see, even Vic can find the good in Bing!!!! Sigh. Not gonna lie, I was going to scream bloody murder if she said she forgives him!!!

Good Cop pays off, however, and Bing, desperate for Vic's forgiveness, reveals there is one more stop before Christmasland, one last chance to grab Wayne, when he gets out of the Wraith at Sleigh House to hang his ornament. It's a dawning revelation, intel quintessential to their success, and for once they know where Charlie is going to be, before he gets there, and can lay a trap for him and his indestructible car. I hate the way they arrived at the information though, I'd have much preferred to see Bing suffer for his sins, and the whole interaction is just so laughably implausible. I will say this however, there was a rather BEAUTIFUL line in this scene that Bing couldn't begin to deserve, but I LOVED it all the same. "I miss the person I thought you were." My god, that's powerful.

"Chris McQueen," is a STELLAR episode, full of beautiful lines like this, including my FAVOURITE thing that Maggie has EVER said to Vic, which perfectly exemplifies their eccentric friendship!!! "I'd shank a thousand assholes for your mopey ass!!!" YES!!! I LOVE THAT SO MUCH!!! I will say though, that I was SHOCKED at how cool Vic was with Maggie's scary new trick of hurting herself to use her powers, sans seizures. I thought she was going to kick her butt for that!!! I'm really worried, Guys, this is a dangerous addiction, that's going to be the hardest one yet for Mags to quit!!! The break-up with Tabitha was bittersweet, but it did not come as a shock to me. They'd been drifting apart for awhile now, and I feel like Maggie was so scared of losing her, that she was afraid to be herself. "I want to live in the real world all the time." For me, that was the nail in the coffin, having only heard it about a thousand times myself. Maggie will always be living in two worlds, and whoever she's with MUST accept that. They love each other, yes, but they just want different things. I do respect Tabitha so much for not demanding that Maggie give up her tiles, threatening to leave her if she didn't. She'd rather let Maggie go be herself, be happy, than try to stifle her, shove her into that hateful, constricting little box called normal.

Vic continues to be petty, and spiteful towards her father, treating him WAY too harshly, punishing him, when he's done nothing but fight for her, a literal action HERO, avenging Wayne, and kicking ASS!!! It hurt my soul, and I could see the pain in his eyes, thinking he'd failed her, apologizing again, just wanting her forgiveness. The second scene at the McQueen house is a far less fuzzy one, as she forbids her father to come with her, placing all the blame of every bad thing that's happened thus far on his shoulders, and she cuts him with razor edged words, saying the worst thing that she could have possibly said in that moment, something truly unforgivable, that I already know she will spend the rest of her life, regretting.

"I lived eight years of my life without you, Dad, and I can just as easily do it again." She sneers, and even Linda stares, aghast. "Vicki, no, you don't mean that!!!"

I felt the pangs in my heart, stunned that she could be that vicious to her own father, after all he's done for her, getting sober, changing his whole life, hell, getting HER sober!!! Linda is again so adorable, insisting she take Chris with her, like "Vicki let your father play on your magical bridge, if he wants!!!" not wanting him to feel left out, and while I want more father/daughter explosive awesomeness, I'm conflicted whether or not he should go. If he stays here...... he's safe. Eventually Linda's persuasion wins out. "Don't let your anger towards your father, keep you from getting back Wayne." With a frustrated sigh, Vic shoves a black helmet in Chris' hands, and we're off to the races again. "Bring them home," Linda whispers sweetly, embracing him tight, and as they hug, I get the most sinking feeling that it's for the last time. Dont...... Don't kill, Chris Mcqueen.

Vic and Chris work in silence, once they get to the charred foundation of Sleigh House in Colorado, burying the handmade bombs, and finally Chris can't take it anymore. "Is this how you want it, Brat?" He asks her, heartbroken, and Ashleigh's acting is PHENOMENAL, as she breaks down and reveals the truth behind her unprovoked animosity.

"It's easier to be mad at you, than to blame myself."

"None of this is your fault. Charlie Manx is not your fault."

"I want to forgive you, because if I don't, how can Wayne ever forgive me. But I can't just let myself off the hook!!!"

It's not entirely a make-up, but it's an important conversation, something she's been wrestling with for a long time. Chris is again AMAZING, consoling her, easing her guilt, even while she's the one that's been impossible. Again Vic, I love you, but your father did the absolute RIGHT thing, and he's the only one that did right by Bing, as far as I'm concerned.

Maggie and Lou join the dynamite father/daughter duo in Colorado, and I LOVED all of their scenes together, the two people in this world that Vic McQueen loves most, and there's something magical about it, something iconic, seeing all three of them together, the Creative Dream Team, united in their crusade against Charlie Manx.

"Every one of these ornaments represents a kid in Christmasland, lost forever. Do you think there's a way to get them back? The other kids?"

WHEN SOULS FALL.

Maggie stares down, perplexed at the tiles, as she arranges them, revealing to the oracle this cryptic, mysticism, and I myself, could NOT breathe. Holy SMASH. Ever since the end of, "Gunbarrel," where Vic wanders through the trees outside Sleigh House, frowning at them, the hundreds of glittering ornaments, swaying in the wind, glowing as she drew near, I just knew...... I KNEW the souls of the Lost Children, were trapped inside each and every one of them, and this suspicion was ever further confirmed, when she found Bradley's canoe ornament, broken open on the ground, after he burnt up in the Wraith. My prediction? To turn the kids back, they have to smash every single one of these ornaments, and only then can the escaped souls return to their vampire shells, and make them human again. The minute a child hangs an ornament, the transformation is complete.

I also LOVED the transcendent scene between Vic and Millie, a scared little girl, in over her head, calling, pleading through the static, and I couldn't help but MARVEL at how much has changed between them. Last Season Millie Manx was very much her father's daughter, cruelly taunting Vic, on her father's behalf, even appearing to her while she was awake, stabbing her with an invisible sword. Now, she calls out to her to be her saviour, her father's greatest enemy, the iron wrought armour of her inherited hatred falling away, and Vic sees her as she always was, not a hollowed out demon spawn, but just a frightened little girl that needs to be set free. I was also THRILLED that dear little Millie imparted the knowledge that Charlie CANNOT die, else all the children, including his daughter, will die with him. Vic abhors Charlie with a screaming vengeance, but now that she knows his death comes at the cost of every child he's ever taken, she won't kill him, she CAN'T kill him, because then all of this, everything she's fought so hard for, bled for, would be for nothing.

The final act is both the thrilling BEST and the incoherent WORST of the episode, as the chaotic music ominously heralds our man's arrival. Charlie Manx, cutting a dashing, imposing silhouette, dark against the hazy dusk, exits the Wraith, turning every which way, striking in profile, floating smoothly across the front of the car, to let Wayne out. I loved this aesthetic, Charlie moving swiftly through the mist and dying light, rising as the threatened dark, enclosing. It's beautiful, and serves two clever purposes. One, to shroud our debonair dark menace in all the more intrigue and mystery, and the other, to conceal just how bad Wayne's gotten. Charlie clasps his hands around Wayne's shoulders lovingly, the picture of paternal pride, and my heart caught, seeing Wayne in the cast light, his boyish curls, frayed and almost white, his skin covered in white blue veins, every one of his teeth, coming to a sharp point.

"Go on, My Boy, it's time to hang your ornament," Charlie chortles handing Wayne the CUTEST little gray, baby bat ornament, I have ever seen, urging him forward. "Choose any branch you like, just make sure it's a SPECIAL branch," Charlie crows, and my heart melts, so in love with both of them, and the way Charlie dotes on him, knowing that while this began as a revenge plot, Charlie has come to love and favour Wayne, like the son he never had. "Don't dilly dally," He warns adorably, with an eyebrow raise, and even this mild scold is too precious for words.

Charlie waits by the Wraith, already nervous, as little Wayne disappears into the grove of trees. I LOVED the Wraith's ADORABLE warning system, as it flashes danger, the car horn honking, and even more I loved Charlie's distressed reaction to it, hurrying over, brow knit, like a father racing to tend to and protect his frightened child. Can I just have this impossibly PERFECT man, that darling little curly-haired boy, and this pretty, shiny car, PLEASE!?!?

"Smart Car," I whisper to myself, as the Wraith senses Vic's presence, and the waiting bombs beneath the ground. Charlie, alarmed, jumps back into his car, to seek out what's got the Wraith in such a tizzy, racing away, and leaving young Wayne behind. If there was ever a time, to save Wayne, it is NOW!!! NOW, Maggie, grab him NOW!!!! Here's where things start to unravel for me as far as character motivation and realistic ability is concerned. Yes, I get that Wayne's appearance is terrifying for her, that she doesn't know what she's walking into as she approaches him, but there is NO WAY Margaret Leigh, Oracle Extraordinaire, Hourglass SLAYER, would just cower, and watch as Wayne hangs his ornament. Nope, sorry. Wayne isn't even all the way a vampire yet, he's in transition, and the FEARLESS girl that I know and love, would have grabbed him, reassured him, while she wrested the ornament from his hands, and SMASHED it!!! Wayne's soul flies back into his body, crying as he clings to his Aunt Mags, Charlie is thwarted, and everybody lives happily ever after. End Scene.

But no, Maggie, in an uncharacteristic move, waits until Wayne has ALREADY hung his ornament, and then approaches him fearfully. I will admit I was a little nervous too..... Wayne, Darling, NO BITING Aunt Maggie!!! Wayne bares his vampire teeth, and raises his vampire claws in an adorable scare, with the cutest little growl ever, laughing cheerfully as he chases Maggie through the trees, clearly thinking it's a game.

Meanwhile, Charlie bristles as he sees the glowing headlights of Vic's motorcycle up ahead, piercing through the descended dark. His annoyance is obvious, but you can almost sense his secret excitement, at having one last chance to kill her.

"Gunning for Mother of the Year?" Charlie scoffs, amused, looking hot as hell behind the Wraith, clenching the steering wheel, his head down, eyes narrowed and full of smouldering, black intent. It's a FANTASTIC face-off, as the Wraith screams down into the open field, Chris pressing HARD on the detonator, and the first bomb goes off in a spray of dirt and billowing smoke. Again here's where I found myself more than a little bit incredulous, wondering WHAT THE HELL IS THE WRAITH MADE OF!?!? I even giggled to myself, remembering what Chris had said. "I don't care if he's in a GOD DAMNED tank!!!" The Wraith remains unscathed, the gleaming black paint, not so much as scratched, as a second bomb, and then a third go off beneath it, to no detriment. Really!? The Wraith is NOT a tank, it's not even armoured, and while yes, it's a supernatural entity, it CANNOT DEFY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS!!! Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so don't want to see you harmed, but you put a blast beneath that undercarriage, it is going to send that car FLYING, flipping it over at the very least!!!

Back in the grove of trees, Wayne, still chasing Maggie, stops cold when Lou calls out to him.

"Dad..... is that you?" THANK GOD, I cry out tearfully, as Wayne recognizes him, and in a very human moment, runs and hugs his father so tight, snuggling his little head to his shoulder, Lou sighing relieved, as he holds his son at last. Happy tears become angry ones, however, and at first I was LIVID with Wayne, horrified as he sinks his tiny little fangs into Lou's shoulder, biting him hard. DON'T BITE YOUR FATHER!!!!! Why, Wayne, WHY!? But the second time I watched this episode, I noticed something soooo very important. Wayne doesn't show any signs of hostility, poses NO threat, UNTIL the first bomb goes off. This is NO coincidence. Charlie, you're too clever for your own good!!! I suspect, that once the transformation is complete, and the kids are connected to Father Christmas, they can sense when he's in danger, and their innate attack instinct takes over!!! Freaking brilliant, and yet also terrifying!!!

Vic curses under her breath, her foot slamming on the gas, helplessly, as the Triumph won't start, her knife failing her, as the Wraith, screams at her like a shot bullet, promising vengeance, and Charlie smirks, sadistic, knowing he's about to end this....... "Say Goodnight, Vic McQueen."

My heart clenches in my chest, barely breathing, the tears flooding my vision, watching through blurry eyes, knowing what he's going to do, before he even does it. Chris McQueen hurtles himself in front of Vic, selflessly sacrificing his life for hers, and the Wraith runs him over, crushing the back of his legs. as he collides with it. I screamed, I sobbed, and shook violently, stunned because my prayers had been answered....... Chris McQueen, has miraculously SURVIVED. He's alive...... he's alive...... I whisper, reassuring myself. While he's far from okay, surely suffering two crushed legs, unable to move, I'm just so happy to see him still breathing, still fighting.

"Perfect timing, Wayne," Charlie snickers, Vic screaming, "NO!" as Wayne hops back into the car. This is it, this is the moment, where it all goes so wrong. Charlie's holding all the cards, he's got Wayne in the car, he's subdued Vic and her father, neither of them can so much as move, and he listens, drinking in their anguished cries. All he had to do was drive away....... It was over. It was SUPPOSED to be over.

"Chris McQueen, a disappointment of a man, just like your father," Charles snarls, and I AM BEGGING him to stop, bawling, pleading frantic, my terrified voice shrill. "BABY NO!!!! BABY STOP!!! DON'T KILL CHRIS, PLEASE GOD, CHARLIE!!!!!" Tapping into a darkness, donning a heartlessness, unbecoming of our gentleman villain, Charlie looks Vic in the eye, as he does it, snapping Chris' neck with lethal force, killing him purely out of spite. The episode ends with her broken, mournful sob, and Chris' slain gaze, his eyes still full of tears, staring blankly at the camera.

My pain is deafening, my sorrow beyond all hope of any coherent expression as NOS4A2 suffers its greatest loss to date. It's an empty gesture, a callous act, uncharacteristic of the man that I love with all my heart, but who has hurt me something profound with this senseless murder. In what kind of CRUEL world, does an innocent man, who sacrifices himself for his daughter, who fought for eight years to be the kind of father she deserved, have to die, while an indecent evil like Bing Partridge gets to live!? Charlie, HOW could you!? This...... There's no honour in this. Charlie kills only as a last resort, and only in defense, he has a strict moral code, and is vehemently against violence without cause. This was unfeeling, unnecessary, and soulless. Yes, he knew Chris was a bad father from before, but surely in witnessing the valiant manner in which he'd flung himself in front of the car, with no thought for his own life, Charlie would have found him redeemed, he would have seen a father who'd do anything to protect his daughter, not so different from himself, and he would have felt SOMETHING!!!

Goodnight, Chris McQueen. You fought the good fight, you changed and made things right, and now at last you can find peace....... My heart is so heavy, I can't hold it, and crying here, I want him to know how wrong he was, thinking nobody would mourn him when he died. A thousand cry out, stricken with grief. Husband, Father, White Knight Redeemed, here lies Chris McQueen, a HERO who didn't die for nothing.........

[a-vintage-snake]

Once I Called You Brother

Pairing(s): None in this chapter

Warnings: Abusive parenting, both emotionally and physically, Remus typical stuff  Characters: Roman Sanders, Remus Sanders

Summary: When Remus disappears, Roman tries to reflect on their shared past.

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People who were asked to be tagged: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme Author’s Note: *claps hands* SO. My Dukeceit one-shot gave me so many plot ideas that I wanted to continue it. And I intended the next installment to be a one chapter thing from Roman's point of view, before returning to Deceit and Remus. HOWEVER, after writing 10.000 fricking words for this chapter and not even REMOTELY close to being done, I thought that would be a bit too cray-cray and decided to split it up in not just two, but MULTIPLE separate parts. I write out of order (meaning I write the scene I'm feeling the most that day) so while most of the next three chapters is written, they're not done just yet. Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner than this one though. Don't worry, we will return to slimy boi and trash rat eventually. Just have some Roman angst while you wait. Word Count: 6790 “Don’t wait up for me!” Remus yelled. “BYYYYEE!!” “REMUS!! Remus, wait!” Roman ran after his brother, but the minute Remus spurred the mare into a gallop there was no chance he could catch up. Baffled he halted and watched as his brother disappeared out of the castle’s gate.

Quickly Roman turned to the stable boy who had brought out Remus’ horse.

“You! Prepare a horse! I need to go after-”

“Your Highness!”

Roman whipped around to see his fencing teacher approaching him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The man huffed. “You haven’t finished your lesson yet!”

“So sorry, mister Moore, but I have to cut this lesson short. My brother, he just-!”

“Absolutely out of the question!” Mister Moore waved away the horse the stable boy brought over. “I allowed you a break, but you have to continue practicing stat if you ever hope to improve your footwork!”

“But sir, my brother! He’s planning to go to the Desolate Mountains!”

“I don’t care if his Grace is planning to go to the underworld itself, you will not skip this lesson!”

“Are you kidding me??” Roman yelled. “I am not going to be stopped by you, you absolute-!” “What is going on here?”

Roman’s back immediately straightened and he shut his mouth, as his father made his way over to the stables. King Augusto was dressed in his hunting attire and was in the process of pulling his gloves on.

“Your Majesty,” Mister Moore bowed when Roman’s father reached them. “So sorry for the disturbance, but prince Roman is trying to get out of his lesson.”

“Out of the question.” King Augusto said as he turned towards his son. “Roman, how many times must I tell you? As the future king, you have responsibilities.”

“But father, it’s Remus!” Roman said.

“Oh heaven above help us…” His father sighed dejectedly. “What has Remus done this time?”

“He just left, yelling that he was going to kill the warlock in the mountains!” Roman gestured to the castle’s gate. “If we hurry, we can catch up to him-!”

“You are not your brother’s babysitter, Roman. Lord knows he scared all those off…” King Augusto muttered as he turned away. “Return to your lesson.”

“But father!” Roman followed after the man as the king ordered the stable boys around. “Didn’t you hear what I said? He wants to go to the Desolate Mountains! We have to go after him!”

His father stopped in his tracks, and Roman froze when he realized what just left his mouth. The king slowly turned to face him, and Roman’s heart started beating painfully fast when his father walked up to him until they were mere centimetres apart.

“I don’t have to do anything,” The king spoke in a soft, dangerous voice. “And you would do well to remember that, son.”

Roman clenched his fists to hide that his hands were shaking.

Show no weakness; show no flaws.

“Yes father…” Roman said, quietly.

A few seconds passed, where the king inspected his eldest son with a cold glare and Roman desperately tried to not break eye contact. But then the king’s gaze eased slightly and he sighed.

“My hunting party will go in the general direction of the mountains,” King Augusto said. “I’ll keep my eye out for him.”

Roman’s eyes widened in surprise, before his face split into a big grin.

“Thank you father!” He beamed.

“Yes, yes,” His father waved him away. “Now get back to your lesson; I expect improvement by the end of the week.”

“Of course!” Roman wanted to give a playful salute, but thought better of it. “I won’t let you down!” “You better not.” The king hauled himself up to his awaiting horse, and rode up to the castle’s gate where his hunting party was waiting for him. Without another glance to his son king Augusto spurred his horse on and rode out of the gate, the king’s men behind him. Roman watched them go, and hoped his father would catch up to Remus soon.

A cough behind him pulled Roman from his thoughts.

“Your Highness,” mister Moore said. “Let’s continue your lesson.”

--

After fencing Roman had etiquette class. When those were done, he was expected at the study hall, where one of his tutors taught him the history of his country, the monarchs that had come before him, the alliances between their country and its neighbouring kingdoms. The many names, dates and places eventually blurred all together, and Roman was relieved when evening came and the lesson finally ended. He wanted absolutely nothing more than retreat to his rooms, collapse on his bed and sleep until sunrise.

He knew he couldn’t. Of course he knew. But the idea was nice.

After a quick change of clothes Roman made his way to the dining room. Mentally he reviewed his lessons of the day, just in case his mother would interrogate him about what he learned.

The dining room was a lovely space, with warm wooden walls, a large fireplace that was currently unlit and tall windows that overlooked the gardens and the landscape beyond it. A long table that could easily fit 30 people stood proudly in the middle. When his parents entertained guests, the dining room was a cheerful place, filled with laughter and jokes, and Roman would love every minute he spent there.

When it was just the family however, the dining room was a somber place. No amount of warm candlelight could quite chase away the solemnness that oozed from the muted suppertime, and the silence made Roman acutely aware of every scrutinizing frown that his parents sent his way.

When Roman entered the dining room, his mother and father were already seated. As the lackey announced his presence, Roman gave a short bow to his parents. But his eyes immediately zoned in on the empty chair that sat across from his, and it’s usual occupant nowhere in sight.

“Good evening Roman,” His mother greeted him. “Have a seat. I trust your day has been well?” “Splendid mother,” Roman answered dutifully, just like every evening. He sat down at his usual spot next to his mother. “And how has your day been?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, aside from a mild headache.” Queen Nadia smiled thinly.

“So sorry to hear that. I hope you feel well soon.” His daily talk with his mother done, Roman turned to his father who sat at the head of the table. “And how was the hunt, father?”

“Excellent!” His father looked quite pleased. “We caught two boar and a doe. Not bad, don’t you think?” This answered exactly none of the burning questions Roman had, but just when he opened his mouth to ask what about Remus the lackeys served up the dinner. Roman bit his tongue and swallowed his questions for now. His parents insisted total silence during actual suppertime.

Knifes scraped over plates, sometimes someone would cough, and the soft sound of chewing were the only things that filled the stillness of the room. Roman tried to focus on the creamy flavour of the quite excellent dish of chicken with mushrooms and potatoes, but no matter what he did his eyes were pulled to the other side of the table. His brother’s empty spot seemed to taunt him.

Silence wrapped around Roman’s throat like a noose. My goodness, dinnertime was always a miserable time, Roman knew that, but today the atmosphere pushed down on him like a crushing weight and Roman wanted nothing more than to break the tension. What was different?

Walking up to the dining room, Remus came from an opposing hallway and joined him. Roman threw a quick glance at his brother, intending to give a casual greeting, but what came out was-

“What the hell is that on your upper lip??”

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, but grinned. The soft mush of barely there moustache hair that a 14 year old could grow moved along with it.

“Jealous, bro-bro?” Remus stroked the hairs proudly.

“Pfff, hardly!” Roman laughed. “You look ridiculous!”

“You’re just mad because you can’t grow any facial hair yet! Baby face!” Remus stuck out his tongue.

“Rather a baby face than a dead animal on my upper lip! What did you, torture some poor hamster?”

“Oh, you want to know my secret?” Remus leaned in, a wild grin on his face. “It’s totally actually just glued on pubic hair!” He said in a loud stage whisper. Roman let out a shriek of laughter.

“Holy shit that’s disgusting!” Roman wheezed. Remus cackled along with him, and spread his arms in a proud stance.

“All hail the pubic ‘stache!” He hollered, and Roman had to stop walking and lean his hands on his thighs to laugh.

“You’re so weird!” Roman managed to say through peals of laughter. Remus grinned widely.

“Only the best kind!”

The brothers were still laughing among themselves when they reached the dining room. Their parents gave them disapproving glares, but Roman and Remus couldn’t stop grinning when they sat down. Throughout the quiet dinner the brothers both had to suppress their giggles and smiles whenever they made eye contact across the table.

Roman tried to focus on the dish he was eating. He brought his fork up to take a bite, but paused when he looked at the cooked spinach on his plate. A grin spread on his face when an idea came to him.

When Remus looked up at his brother, Roman was sporting a very dapper looking spinach moustache.

Remus, who had just taken a large swig of water to wash his last bite down, snorted loudly and spit out his water in a large spray across the table. Their mother and father let out double screams of surprise while Remus howled with laughter.

“REMUS!” His father rose from his chair. “You blithering idiot, look what you have done!”

A loud smack echoed across the room as king Augusto backhanded Remus so hard he fell off his chair on the ground. Roman’s light mood disappeared as he shrunk back into his chair; his hand quickly came up to wipe away the spinach from his lip.

“Can’t we have one dinner without you making a fool of yourself?!” His father roared at his son on the floor.

“No- Wait, father, I wasn’t-” Remus stammered. “It was Roman, he-”

“Of course, blame your brother.” His mother cut him off, coldly. “As if Roman would ever be as disruptive as you.”

“Learn to take responsibility for your actions, you moron.” His father said as he sat down again.

Remus shakily got up on his feet, holding his stinging cheek.

“Roman, tell them! Please…” Remus pleaded.

All eyes turned on him, and Roman froze under his parents expecting stare. Oh god, he would be a disappointment if he told the truth. He had been disruptive and childish, all the things his parents taught him not to be. They would be angry with him, furious maybe! He wasn’t supposed to make mistakes like this.

Avoiding his brother’s eyes, Roman merely shook his head.

“There, you see,” His mother looked back at Remus. “Now what do you have to say for yourself, little liar?”

Remus kept staring at his sibling, his mouth opening and closing in quiet disbelief. Then he turned away and ran out of the room.

“Honestly, that boy…” His father shook his head, not bothering to call his second son back. “Where did we go wrong?”

“It’s not our fault, dear,” His mother said. “Some people are just born a little… freaky, that’s all.”

His mother turned to Roman, and he stiffened as she gently caressed his cheek.

“Don’t worry, we’re not talking about you.” She said, her voice sweet. “You are such a good son, Roman.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his temple, before turning back to her dinner. Roman tried the same, but noticed he had lost his appetite.

The next evening when he ran into Remus on his way to the dining room, his brother refused to make eye contact and didn’t speak a word.

Roman’s heart gave a twinge at the sudden memory. He couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his cutlery down with a bang and stood up. His parents jerked up.

“Roman?” His mother asked. “What do you think you’re-”

“Where’s Remus, father?” Roman asked before the courage left him. His father looked disdainfully at him.

“Sit down Roman. We have rules at dinnertime, you know that.”

“Where. Is. Remus?” Roman repeated. “You said that you would look for him!”

“And I did! Are you suggesting I wouldn’t look for my own son?”

“No, of course not! But then…” Roman looked at his brother’s empty seat. “Then where is he?”

King Augusto let out a sigh.

“I couldn’t find him. He was probably already too far ahead of us.”

Roman’s stomach dropped. His gaze flicked outside towards the mountains in the distance, looming in the fading light.

“We have to go look for him,” Roman said, as he scrambled away from the table. “Roman, get back here!” His parents rose from their chairs as well.

“He’s in danger!” He already had his hand on the doorknob when hands seized his shoulder and hand.

“Roman, sweetie,” Queen Nadia’s voice said in his ear. “Come sit and calm down before you do anything rash.”

“But mother he-!”

“Roman.” His mother’s tone took a warning edge. Roman swallowed, reluctantly released the doorknob and allowed his mother to gently guide him back into his chair. She sat down next to him and faced him, a soft smile on her face.

“Now,” She started. “Tell me exactly what your brother said.”

“I told you! He left yelling that he was going to kill the warlock in the mountains!” He rose once more. “If we hurry, we might be able to stop him!” His mother grabbed his hand before he could run again.

“So he never said specifically that he was going to the Desolate Mountains?” She asked.

“Well he…” Roman shut his mouth, thinking. Wait, had he…? Feverishly he replayed his brother’s exit from this morning in his head. Had he mentioned the Desolate Mountains at all?

“No…” Roman said hesitantly. “No, I don’t think so…”

“Well there you go,” His mother smiled kindly. “No need to worry, sweetie.”

“But then… where would he have gone?” Roman asked.

“Son, do you really think we only have one warlock in this whole country?” His father shook his head with a laugh. “I’m sure there’s plenty of them living in mountainous areas!”

“But how do we know for certain?” Roman’s eyes once again went to the window, to the threatening peaks in the distance.

“I don’t think even Remus would be stupid enough to actually go there.” King Augusto said. “Didn’t we make you both promise to never enter the mountains?”

I’m pretty sure you only made me promise, Roman wanted to say but he didn’t. After all how could he know for certain that they hadn’t made Remus promise as well? “And besides,” His mother added. “Remus is always yelling nonsense! Do you remember, a few years back, when he ran away to the sea to ‘fight the Kraken’, in his own words? He came back two weeks later with five sacks of dead fish and a live squid in a tank!”

Oh yeah, that had been an odd day… Remus had loved that tiny squid though; doting on it like it was a cute kitten or a puppy. He had been devastated when he found the squid dead in his tank a month later.

“Someone murdered him!” “Or he just couldn’t survive in a tank, no matter if it’s a salt water tank.” “No! I took good care of him, and Sir Squiddles was just fine this morning!” “Seriously? You named that thing ‘Sir Squiddles’?” “HE WAS NOT A THING! He was my friend!”

At the time, Roman had laughed at Remus calling a squid his friend and got kicked out of his brother’s room for it. Now thinking back on it, Roman cringed at his own insensitivity.

“But…” Roman tried one last time. “What if he did go…? Shouldn’t we look for him just to be sure?”

“Sweetie, don’t be daft,” Queen Nadia’s voice turned impatient. “You want to risk your own life because you jumped to a conclusion? Or the lives of our knights? What if we sent troops, and Remus turns up tomorrow unharmed? Do you want the blood of those men and women on your hands?”

“…No. No I don’t.” Roman finally sat back down. His parents gave him content smiles.

“I’m sure Remus is fine. He’s just off on another attention seeking ‘quest’, and he’ll be back before you know it.” His mother reassured him. Roman nodded.

“You’re right… You’re both right. Thank you.” He said.

“Very well.” His father sat back in his chair. “Now that’s settled, lets get back to this excellent meal before it gets cold.” Roman nodded and picked up his knife and fork again. Of course Remus would come back just fine! Like his father said, not even Remus would be so reckless to go to the Desolate Mountains!

…Right?

“Oh, and Roman?”

Roman looked up at his father. “Yes?” He asked.

“Don’t ever interrupt dinner time again.” King Augusto said coldly.

“…Yes father.”

--

“Hey! Planet earth to Roman!”

Fingers snapped near his ear. Roman startled, quickly turning his gaze away from the window and back to the other people in the room.

“So sorry, zoned out there for a second.” Roman smiled. “What were we talking about?”

“This is the fourth time you’ve zoned out and missed the punch-line to my story! What is up with you today?” Tristan huffed. “You’ve been more quiet than Farah! You’re not turning boring on us like her, are you?”

The others laughed, apart from Farah in the far corner. She buried her face further into the book she held open on her lap. Even from the windowsill Roman had seated himself he saw her cheeks turn a bright red. He gave a soft wince in sympathy.

“That’s not exactly gentlemanly of you to say of our fair Farah, Tristan!” Roman said.

“Oh, it’s all in good fun!” Tristan fell back on one of the soft sofas in the salon, lounging on it widespread with a lazy grin. “She really ought to grow thicker skin if she isn’t used to it by now!”

Roman wanted to snap at him that Farah didn’t seem to find it fun, but his father’s voice immediately echoed through his head.

“You need to maintain a network of friends, Roman,” King Augusto had said when Roman once asked why he needed to spent time with someone as insufferable as viscount Tristan. “Build yourself a reputation, learn to know your future allies. After all, what is the one thing we always tell you?”

“A royal’s reputation is the most important thing he has.” Roman had answered, the words falling from his lips automatically after years of it being drilled into him. So Roman only smiled thinly at the viscount before turning his head to look out of the window again.

The murmurs of the conversation started up again, and Roman listened without registering any of the words. After two more times of him missing some hilarious joke, the others seemed to grow tired of his inattentiveness.

“Tristan is right! You are boring today Roman!” Tristan’s best friend Brett complained. Roman shrugged.

“I guess today is an off day.” He said without looking towards the other man. He didn’t need to see to know that Brett was trying his best to pose to impressively show off his muscles for his crush Madison.

“It’s not just today,” Madison pouted, gracefully ignoring Brett in favour of braiding Emma’s hair. “You’ve been quiet every time we hung out in the past weeks.”

“Yeah!” Emma whined. “You’ve been so mopey and dull, Roman! What gives?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Roman instead smiled and brightly said, “Maybe I’ve been brainstorming for new adventures!”

“I sure hope so.” Madison finished the braid. “This mood you’ve been in just isn’t any fun!”

“Are…” Farah spoke up hesitantly. “Are you okay Roman…?”

Roman’s smile faltered slightly. Was he okay…? Why was she even asking? Of course he was okay! He just… Hadn’t been too keen on hanging out with his friends today, that’s all.

It wasn’t that he completely disliked the others company. Okay, Tristan was an asshole, and Brett couldn’t hold up an intelligent conversation even if he tried, but Farah was nice! If a bit quiet. And Emma and Madison could have been good company if they stopped gossiping for a few minutes. He had just hoped he could have had this day to himself. Roman’s schedule was busier than ever! The past weeks were filled with so many lessons of various kinds that at the end of the day he could barely keep his eyes open. After shoving food in his mouth, Roman would collapse on his bed and sleep like the dead. And on the rare few days he didn’t have lessons, his parents made sure he spent time with his friends, the children of the court’s nobility. Two months had passed in a haze.

And there was still no sign of Remus.

His stomach clenched as his thoughts went to his brother. Alright, if he would be completely honest with himself, Remus was partially at fault for his somber state of mind. He knew his parents told him not to worry, but as the days turned into weeks, and weeks had turned into two months… Roman couldn’t help himself. He was distracted at his lessons, grim during meetings and unusually quiet. His parents had asked him repeatedly if he was getting sick the last couple of dinners.

Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, he considered telling the others. He knew he wasn’t meant to be gloomy, but they were his friends! Surely they would understand?

“I suppose…” Roman started, swivelling his head to look at the others. “I have been a bit worried lately…”

“Worried?” Emma asked. “How so?” “Well… It’s Remus. He’s been gone for weeks now-”

“Oh, so that’s the reason it’s been so peaceful around here?” Tristan laughed. “I already wondered why it smelled nicer around the castle lately!”

“Hey!” Roman said.

“What?” Tristan spread his hands in a ‘what gives’ gesture. “It’s true! How many times have we seen Remus covered in weird dirt and dragging heavens knows what around?”

“Too many times...” Brett said, shaking his head.

“Didn’t he once put a rotting decapitated pigs head in your bed, Tristan?” Emma shuddered.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Tristan made a grossed out face. “It took weeks before the smell got out. And I’m still not sure how he even got in!��

“He did that because you pranked him, right?” Madison asked.

“Yes! Seriously, your brother just can not take a joke!” Tristan said to Roman, who grimaced. Roman remembered that particular “prank” all right…

“Wanna hear something crazy?”

Roman looked up from his book, expecting his brother to grin at him with that “I just brought a live opossum into the parlour and I have called him Jeremy” grin, but instead his brother looked… Strangely nervous. Huh. That was very unlike him.

“Yes…?” He said, curious enough to ignore the warning bells.

“I think…” Remus said slowly.

“You? Thinking? Don’t hurt yourself, brother!” Roman laughed. Remus didn’t laugh, and made a short stuttering movement that to Roman seemed like a wince. Frowning, Roman wanted to backtrack but before he could say anything Remus continued talking.

“IthinkIhaveacrushonTristan!” Remus rushed out. Roman’s mouth fell open.

“You WHAT??” He yelled, abandoning his book in favour of jumping from his chair and joining his brother on the couch. “You have a crush on Tristan??”

“Yell a little louder, I don’t think the people in the dungeons quite heard it!” Remus hissed out while punching his brother’s arm.

“Sorry, sorry, just excited!” Roman squealed. “Oh gosh, are you going to tell him? When will you tell him? And how? Flowers are a classic, obviously, but if you want to be more original you could always slay a grand monster to prove your love-!”

“I wrote a poem.” Remus mumbled. Roman let out a gasp.

“Oh that is PERFECT! And such an unorthodox of a display for you brother! You must truly have it bad for our fair Tristan!”

“Oh, shut up!” Remus punched his arm again, but he was smiling. Roman couldn’t stop grinning as well. How long was it ago that they had this kind of brotherly banter? It felt like years! If Roman were to guess, the last time they truly spent time together like siblings was when they had been kids. And now their 18thbirthday was only a month away!  

Why did they ever stop hanging out…?

“Send him that poem! I’m sure he’ll love it!”

“You think so…?”

“I know so!” Roman gushed. “Tristan is super nice, he’ll be over the moon by it!”

“Wow, it’s almost as if writing a poem for your crush, only for said crush to not only read out said poem out loud and make fun of it in front of basically the whole court,” Roman bit out through a forced smile. “But also ridicule you for having a crush is not even remotely funny, Tristan!”

“It was a little funny!” Brett said.

“Yeah! Didn’t you see Remus’ face?” Tristan snorted. “Come now Roman, it was a harmless prank!”

“A harmless prank that caused my own brother to refuse to talk to me for nearly a year!” Roman very nearly shouted. He had sworn up and down to Remus he hadn’t known Tristan would do something so cruel, but he had the suspicion Remus never truly believed him. Especially since his parents didn’t allow him to cut off all contact with the viscount.

“You will not lose one of your most important future allies because Remus is too immature to handle a joke, Roman!” His mother had bristled. “And that’s final!”

Secretly Roman thought the pig’s head had been well deserved.

“Hey now, calm down.” Tristan held up his hand in a placating gesture, and Roman wanted nothing more than to challenge the insolent cur to a duel right then and there. “I meant nothing by it. Honestly Roman, what’s the matter with you today? You make fun of Remus all the time!”

Instantly the anger inside him deflated.

“Yeah, well-! I…” Roman stuttered out. He couldn’t exactly deny it. “Maybe-! Maybe… Maybe that was wrong of me!” He ignored the sceptical stares. “And besides, Remus has never been gone this long, and I don’t… I don’t… I’m worried, alright??” “I don’t think you need to,” Emma said. “Remus is like a weed; you can’t really kill him!”

“Exactly,” Madison finished the intricate braid in Emma’s hair. “Before you know it, he’ll ride through the castle’s gate and he’ll be back doing… Whatever the hell it is he does.”

“Seriously, what does he even do all day?” Brett snickered.

“He often goes to the library.” A quiet voice said. Immediately all eyes turned to Farah, who seemed to instantly regret saying anything.

“The library? Really?” Roman asked quizzically.

“Remus in a library?” Madison scoffed. “Don’t you think that’s stretching the truth a bit too far, Farah?”

“Does he even know how to read?” Emma simpered.

“It’s true!” Farah said. “I regularly see him when I go to the library!”

Roman swung his legs off the windowsill and sat to give Farah his full attention. “What does he do there?” He asked curiously. While he hated to agree with the others, they were right; He couldn’t exactly picture his chaotic brother to particularly enjoy the library.

“I don’t know…” Farah muttered. “We don’t really talk.” “Wow, what a shocking revelation!” Tristan snorted. “Farah doesn’t talk! Next you’ll tell me that water is wet!”

Another wave of laughter echoed through the room, and Farah looked like she wanted to disappear into her green coloured hijab. Roman glared at Tristan, the irritation rising up to new levels. He was about to snap at the viscount when the doors of the salon opened.

“Your Highness,” The lackey entering said while he made a bow. “Pardon the intrusion, but your parents request your presence in the throne room.”

Roman barely held back a sigh in pure relief, and practically ran out of the room without saying goodbye to the others. He did feel a pang of guilt for leaving Farah alone with those heathens, but he shook it off and made his way to the throne room.

Upon entering he saw his parents, looking regal and untouchable on their thrones, the picture perfect concerned monarchs. Before the throne knelt an older man, his clothes torn and tattered. Most likely he was a peasant from a nearby town. His parents smiled at him when they saw him.

“Ah, Roman! Just the hero we wished to see.” His father beckoned him closer. “Come here.” “Would you repeat your request for our son?” His mother smiled sweetly at the kneeling man.

“A-Ah! Yes, yes of course, your Majesties!” The man shuffled on his knees, so he faced Roman who had walked up to his side.

“Please good sir!” Roman gently grabbed the man by his elbows and helped him stand. “No need to kneel for me! That cold floor can hardly be good for your knees!”

The old man looked surprised, but smiled either way. Roman smiled back, choosing to ignore the disapproving peers he knew his parents were giving him.

“Your Highness,” The man started. “I come to you in dire need. My village is under raid by a manticore-chimera! The monster has killed several of our villagers, destroyed a good portion of our crops and damaged our homes! We’re not sure how long we can keep the demon at bay! But the whole kingdom has heard of your bravery fighting such horrors, and we beg for your help!”

The more he listened, the more Roman felt his heart clench. That fiend was harming his future subjects! His people! Outrage and determination swelled up in his chest.

“Do not worry, my good man!” Roman bellowed. “I shall come with you and vanquish the mighty beast!”

--

He vanquished the mighty beast.

A day’s journey away from the castle had taken Roman, and the knights that accompanied him on every quest, to the village the monster terrorized… The small town sat right by the edge of the Desolate Mountains.

Ignoring the cruel irony, Roman had focused on slaying the manticore-chimera. It had taken all his willpower and several close calls, but he did it. He was victorious, and the monster would do no more harm.

And in the end, every fight Roman suffered through would always be worth it. It was worth it to return to the village after the battle and see the relieved, happy faces of the townspeople. To see their tears of relief, hear their joyous laughter and know that those who had been grieving would get a little respite now that their loved ones were avenged.

It was worth it knowing his people were safe.

And if the people celebrated, and Roman and his entourage were pulled along with it, well who was he to deny an adoring audience?

That’s how Roman found himself surrounded by all the town’s children, who were breathlessly listening to Roman regaling how he had taken down the manticore-chimera. His knights mingled with the adults of the village, who smiled both fondly and wondrously at their prince entertaining their kids.

“And so, while my brave knights distracted the monster, I snuck up to it from behind, narrowly avoiding its scorpion tale!” Roman mimicked drawing a sword. “I waited with bated breath until I saw an opening… And then… POW!!” The children all startled, many of them gasping. “I pierced my sword right through his heart! And the manticore-chimera… Was no more.”

The children ooohed and aaahed when Roman struck a heroic pose, the gold details of his most princely outfit sparkling in the sunlight and his red cape fluttering in the slight breeze.

“When I am older, I wanna be a knight too!” One of the children gaped.

“Oh, and what a fearsome warrior you shall be!” Roman scooped the girl in question up and settled her upon his shoulders. “Known far and wide! Every monster shall quack in their boots upon hearing your name!” The child shrieked with laughter as Roman took off in a gentle sprint, the other kids nearly tripping over their own feet to follow him.

“You are much nicer than the other prince!” The girl giggled above him. Roman laughed, a little confused.

“Other prince? What other prince?” He asked.

“The weird one with the funny moustache!”

He froze. Skidding to a halt Roman was distantly aware that the kids surrounded him once more, pulling at his cape and sash and begging for a turn.

It couldn’t… There was no way!

The girl wiggled on his shoulders. “Keep running, keep running!” She yelled. Roman shook himself from his frozen stupor.

“Ah, I’m afraid this mighty steed has done enough running for today!” The children all chorused their disappointment, and the girl pouted as he lifted her off his shoulders back onto the ground. “How about you play with the knights instead? They have saved your home just as much as I have!”

“But we wanna play with you!” A boy whined. All the other kids nodded in agreement.

“Ah, but maybe, if you ask nicely… My knights can show you how to hold a sword like a true warrior!”

That seemed to instantly cheer the children up. Roman watched with a smile as the group ran off towards the knights. Dread pooled in his stomach however when he thought about what the girl had said.

B-But there probably had been a mistake! There were loads of people with moustaches, and perhaps it had just been a rich merchant travelling his way around the mountains, the only safe (albeit long) path to the kingdom on the other side. Any child would see a fancy gentleman and think him a prince! Roman huffed a laugh, and pretended not to notice how strangled the sound was. That was a totally reasonable explanation! No need to panic over nothing! He would even ask to be sure, so he could laugh at his own foolish behaviour!

He looked around for the village head, a lovely older woman who had introduced herself as Alina before he went to kill the manticore-chimera. He spotted her chatting animatedly with her wife on the edge of the town square. Quickly he approached her.

“Pardon me, my lady?”

“Prince Roman!” Alina grinned at him brightly. “We are forever in your debt for slaying the beast. We simply cannot thank you enough!”

“It was the mere duty of a prince and future king, ma’am!” Roman said. “But I need to ask you something.”

“Anything, your Highness.”

“About two months ago, did a traveller pass through your town? My age, with a moustache, most likely wearing green?”

“Oh, did prince Remus ever return home safely?”

Roman felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

“You… You have seen my brother?” He asked weakly.

“It was a little hard to miss him!” Alina’s wife Nesta said. “He rode in one late afternoon, and stopped only to allow his horse to drink something and to buy some more supplies in our tavern. He yelled that he would kill-” The woman paused when she saw Roman’s face drain of all colour. “Your Highness?”

“What did he yell?” Roman’s voice sounded numb. “Please, what did he say?”

“He yelled that he would kill the warlock in the Desolate Mountains for us, your Highness.” Nesta continued solemnly, all mirth from just mere moments ago gone. “We tried to stop him. We warned him of the danger, but he didn’t listen. He… He rode away before we could talk sense into him. But… Surely your Highness knew this? Our king and queen would not send their son on a mission like that without a plan!”

Silence stretched out for a few seconds as the women smiled hopefully at Roman. Their smiles died away at Roman’s ashen expression.

“You didn’t know…” Alina gasped. “Please, you have to believe us, if we had known prince Remus was there without your parents blessing, we would have sent word to the castle immediately! We wouldn’t have- Prince Roman?”

Roman couldn’t breathe. The sound of the village head and her wife asking him worriedly if he was feeling unwell reached him muffled and faraway, like his ears were stuffed with wax. A coldness like ice spread from his core to his limbs, making his skin tingle. He had the idea that his legs would give out on him any second. The shadows of the Desolate Mountains loomed over him, cold and menacing.

He had actually… Remus truly was that reckless… He had really gone to…

Oh god his brother had gone to the Desolate Mountains!

“Haha! !It seems like we overstayed our welcome long enough!!” Roman yelled so suddenly the women jumped back in shock. He felt himself slip back into his princely demeanour without truly trying. “Thank you for your hospitality, you are such wondrously kind people!!”

“Prince Roman, maybe you should sit down first?”

“Sit down?? Of course not, I feel fit as a fiddle!!” Roman chuckled, edging on hysterics. “Yes, we should definitely be going now!! I should inform the general!! A grand day to you, ladies!!” With that, Roman stormed away, ignoring the protests of Alina and Nesta. He had to find the general, he had to round up the knights, and they had to go look for his brother!

“GENERAL ISOLDA!!” He called out over the town square. The woman in question looked up, a bit shocked to see her prince in such a frenzied state. The knights that were talking to her stood to attention as well.

“Your Highness?” She asked when Roman reached her. “What is the matter?” “Gather all the knights! We’re going!” Roman commanded.

“Already?” The general frowned in confusion. “But we have barely rested for the journey home!” “We’re not going to the castle! We’re going to the Desolate Mountains!”

“What- Are you mad?” The general gaped at him, thinking he must be joking. Roman however could not be more determined.

“My brother is there, general! He has been there for the past two months, and we must find him immediately! We can buy supplies here in the town, and-”

“No.”

Roman stopped dead in his tracks.

“No? What do you mean, no?”

“It means that I am not sending my knights on a suicide mission, my prince!” The general seethed. Roman stared at her, before nodding.

“You’re right… That would be unfair to ask of them. I shall go alone then! Inform my parents of my absence!” Roman turned around to search for his horse, but was stopped in his path by one of his knights. Without Roman realizing more knights had joined the little group, and they formed a circle around him. Trapping him.

“I will do no such thing,” General Isolda said behind him. “Because you will be returning with us.”

“Let me go at once!” Roman turned to glare at the general, who merely looked unimpressed.

“You will return to the castle with us, prince Roman,” She said. “And that is an order.”

“You can not order me!” Roman fumed. “I outrank you!”

“And your parents outrank you, your Highness. I- All of us- Have strict orders to always bring you back home. No detours, no crazy quests. And we will follow those orders no matter what.” Roman bristled, ready to shout and yell. He looked around at knights circling him, closing his escape path off. Many of them had their swords partially drawn, their faces resolute.

“Please prince Roman,” The general said patiently. “Do not force me to tie you to your horse.”

He could not fight them all off, Roman knew that. And the whole journey home they would watch him like a hawk. Admitting defeat, Roman’s shoulders sacked.

“Fine,” He bit out. “But we’ll be leaving immediately. If we hurry we can make it back by evening.” He had to let his parents know as soon as possible, so he could go looking.

As Roman and his entourage left the town, it felt as if the mountains mockingly waved him goodbye.

[arlingtonpark]

SNK 128 Review

Attack on Titan/Terminator crossover when?

The last two chapters were an inexplicable low point for the series. Quality storytelling zoomed by us and jumped right out the window.

It was like the opposite of how most fans viewed the early days of the series. In those days, the story was good, but the art was atrocious. Now the art is great, but the storytelling is atrocious.

Characters said things without explanation, events happened without explanation, there might have been a teleporting horse or two at some point. I don’t know, but it was bad.

Now, I’m happy to say this chapter is SNK back in full form. This was peak Attack on Titan.

…For good and ill.

Let’s start with the good.

One of the best things about this series is the action. The action is almost always great, and a big reason why is that Isayama isn’t afraid to go big.

There were lots of big moments in this fight sequence.

Mikasa crashing through the window, Armin shot full of bullets, Annie and Reiner, Kiyomi beating Floch’s ass. It all made for an exhilarating read.

Isayama also understands how to pace an action scene.

Unlike every other part of his story. This was an obligatory potshot sorry not sorry.

There’s a beat to the sequence. Big moments punctuate lengths of relatively calmer action.

Mikasa crashes through the window and saves everyone. Next big thing is Armin getting shot down, but in between the two moments is Mikasa and everyone fleeing the thunder spears. It’s something of a reprieve between major plot beats.

There are reprieves like that between all the major moments. Isayama is inexplicably uneven with applying these principles to the whole story, but he typically does it well in action sequences.

See: the last two chapters.

Relatedly, another great thing about the chapter is the stakes. This is also to do with the pacing.

There’s a great escalation to this chapter.

Armin and Connie try to trick Floch because they want to avoid a fight, Floch doesn’t take it, Kiyomi fights back unexpectedly, Mikasa steps in, they flee for their lives, Armin is taken out, Annie and Reiner step in with their titans, and Connie kills in cold blood.

The stakes get higher and higher. That’s what good pacing looks like.

And on a more macro scale, we get an update on Eren’s progress and it’s worse than we thought. He’s already reached the mainland. Millions are probably dead.

That’s a big thing to drop on us just before a make or break action sequence.

Stakes have been risen.

Ok, now for the bad.

First off, Magath.

I mean, he’s saying things that make sense, but you can’t just have a character do a 180 with no build up.

Magath is talking like he’s thought a lot about this. Sure would have been nice to see some of that thinking.

The fatal flaw for this chapter is that it’s just a retread of the Uprising arc. All this action is cool and well done, but at base, it’s all stuff we’ve seen before.

Once again, we’re faced with a brother vs brother kind of conflict. People who should be comrades in arms are forced to turn their arms against each other. The only difference is that this time the government our heroes rebel against is a bit too in love with fighting for survival.

This could have been an interesting contrast. Attack on Titan has usually been emphatically supportive of fighting for survival. The OG Uprising happened because the government refused to fight and the Survey Corps decided they had to overthrow them.

This time, the government is so in love with fighting that death means nothing to them. Floch kills people just for talking back to him. I’m sure he’ll gladly die if he thought it’d help his race.

This was a great opportunity for the series to explore a new angle on its usual themes.

To some extent, the series has already touched upon this. That’s why Eren is a 3000 lbs. dino-titan right now. He took the SNK mantra too close to heart; now he’s a lumbering monstrosity bearing down on innocent lives.

So put this down as a missed opportunity to expand on that.

Instead of that, this chapter is spinning its thematic wheels, stuck in Uprising-era thinking.

“O, woe is me, must I really turn thine arms on my fellow countrymen? Must the world be so cruel?”

That is the conflict of this chapter in a nutshell.

Totally a retread of the Uprising arc.

The final scene, where Connie has to kill a compatriot in order to save Armin’s life, is exactly the same as the scene in Uprising where Armin had to kill the soldier threatening Jean.

Same setup. The killer, Armin in Uprising and Connie in this arc, has expressed reservations about harming his compatriots even to achieve his goals.

That person finds themselves in a situation where the life of a comrade is threatened by a compatriot.

They have no choice but to take a gun and shoot the compatriot in the head, killing them in cold blood.

The moral is the same too: sometimes, you have to kill to survive.

The character writing suffers because of this.

For some reason, Isayama decided be wanted to make the exact same point again, but he didn’t want to put any fresh spin on it.

Thus we are served with the absolute disservice of Jean, Connie, Armin, and Mikasa forgetting the Uprising Arc ever happened, and the lessons they learned from it.

Their experiences from Uprising are directly and obviously applicable to this current situation, but it never occurs to them. It’s honestly stupid of them.

That’s a problem with Isayama. It’s really hard for him to present a viewpoint genuinely opposed to his own in good faith.

There is no debate in this manga. Characters disagree sometimes, but one side is always obviously wrong and one side is always obviously right, and you can tell because the wrong side is always struck silent when confronted by the right side’s #truth.

I get that the point is that they don’t want to kill their compatriots, but still, Jean, Connie, Armin, and Mikasa…are adults, right?

They should be able to articulate a strategic vision that doesn’t entail killing people, even if it’s just to avoid doing something they don’t want to do, shouldn’t they?

In fact, I’ll do that right now.

“We want to be at full strength when we face Eren, so we should avoid a fight at all costs.”

I came up with that on the fly! -flexes-

When Reiner tells them to just hang back and let the warriors fight, Connie rightfully points out they’re basically being infantilized, so I guess that Isayama’s point is that they are being childish, but still, their characters should be past that point.

(Mikasa gets points, though, for coming closest to a smart rationalization.)

The strongest example of this character regression is Connie’s outburst. Connie is pressed on avoiding a fight and he explodes on them.

“You know we’re here in order to save people, right?! So, why are you making it sound like we’re going to have to slaughter all these people on the island?! How did it turn into this?!”

Da fuck is he talking about?

How, indeed.

No one is talking about slaughtering everyone on the island. Where is this even coming from?

Well, maybe that’s the point. Isayama, flawed writer that he is, can only think of Connie’s reluctance to kill his compatriots as deranged, so he’s having Connie talk like a deranged man.

Yeah, that would make sense, if only…

Annie: You’re right.

No, he’s not! What are you doing!?

Look, maybe I just have the wrong perspective on this, but I think Annie is completely fucking wrong.

It’s true the warriors are the only ones with a personal stake in this. They’re fighting for their homeland’s survival; the 104th is not. So she’s right, the warriors have no right to make them kill their fellow countrymen.

But that lack of a right goes deeper than that. The warriors have to right to force the 104th to help them at all.

And you know what that means?

It means no one is forcing the 104th to be here.

The warriors can’t ask them to fight their compatriots because more broadly they can’t ask them to fight Eren. They chose to stand against Eren anyway.

Choosing to fight Eren very clearly extends to fighting his pissant lackeys.

The warriors cannot ask them to fight the Yeagerists because that is an extension of not being able to ask them to fight Eren. Naturally, them choosing to fight Eren means they’ve chosen to fight the pro-Eren Yeagerists.

So, ok, our heroes are forced to dirty their hands, and the series wants us to think about why that is. Why did it have to come to violence?

K, I’ll bite. Let’s think about this.

Let’s dive in deep on this. Why does this violence keep happening?

And don’t say it’s because of the cycle of violence Isayama talks about.

I’m talking even deeper than that.

Why does the cycle happen in the first place? And what perpetuates it?

It happens because people always forget the past. They don’t remember history.

Ok. And why don’t they remember?

They don’t remember because of a complex web of factors, some personal and others structural.

Think about it this way:

Right now, brothers are killing brothers. Why? To get an answer, why don’t we look at another time when brother killed brother.

In the 1860s, a war was fought in the United States. Many states tried to destroy the country to preserve their fundamentally racist way of life.

Brother killing brother. Why did it have to come to that?

I think Abraham Lincoln said it best.

“On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago [1861] all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it, all sought to avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war—seeking to dissolve the Union and divide effects by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war, but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive, and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.”

This is from a speech he gave in 1865, a month and a half before his death, and a few weeks before the end of the war.

The war happened for structural reasons and personal ones.

For both sides, war was acceptable as a means to an end because of the incentives of the moment. The situation was structured to make war an option.

At the same time, there were personal factors involved. It’s not that the war would have happened no matter what personalities were involved. Indeed, the right man at the right time can make a big difference.

Why did Connie and Samuel have to fight?

Part of it is because there’re hotheads like Floch calling the shots.

Floch is the absolute worst man for this moment.

But so far, this has been purely descriptive. Ethically speaking, one side is clearly in the right.

Lincoln nailed it in his speech:

“Both parties deprecated war, but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive, and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.”

One side countenances war, while the other merely tolerates it.

So why do you think this had to happen?

I’ll tell you what not to think.

“Violence is one thing you can’t take from humanity.”

Thinking about it in terms of violence and being violent, as Yelena does, is lazy.

There are reasons why the world is cruel, but that’s actually a good thing, because if the world is so cruel for a reason, that means we can change the world and make it less cruel.

And that, if you squint really hard, is another theme of Attack on Titan.

[colitisandme]

Firstly Hi again. I am sorry I have been absent for the past few months. Truth is, I have been feeling rougher than a badgers arse and keeping myself away from people with eyes for their own good. The last few months have been particularly tricky to navigate after my last surprising hospital stay. It did not go well. But I wanted to start this year off by doing a year in review... looking back at what’s happened and try to find a Kum by ya moment in a sea of well of just waaaaaaaaaaaah and arrrrrrrgh! So journey with me through the past 12 months of life, love and quite literally the pursuit of toilet roll.

I greeted January with a hi five and with eternal optimism of what this year could bring, “ This was going to be our year” we said with proud and happy voices, only later sadly discovering my optimism had clearly been marinading in all the new years alcohol, and so drunk, incorreherent and nearly blind stumbled into a ravine where it bobbed about helplessly in a sea of tears before plunging into the abyss. Ideal.

In February, Phyllis Fibro barged her way past my defence system, and squeezed her fat behind into my life and with no warning announced she was going to be here for the duration, turned my limbs to jelly, gave me chronic insomnia, ate all my happy snacks, and let her cats scoot in the trifle of my life. Phyllis is like the relative who turns up for a ‘short surprise visit’ sets up camp in your spare bedroom, deletes all your favourite shows off your tv planner, eats your food out of the fridge, steals your favourite clothes then proceeds to stretch them out and give them back to you when they look like overstretched scrotum... all the time finding new and inventive ways of irritating you on a daily basis. That short stay turns into you finding a truck has turned up at your house bulging at the seems of boxes, clothes 13 clothes horses, giant ball of string, bag of costumes for cats and a yearly subscription to ‘football hooligans and where to find them in your neighbourhood’ in your name. We are not friends, I do not like her and wish she would vacate my body as there is simply no room for her and I think her merely being there is catapulting useful stuff out of my ears and filling the space they used to be with goo. I am sure she takes great delight when I try and blindly grasp for the correct word in a sentence and sweating and stammering exclaim ‘ it’s very nice to meet your umbrella/ sandwich/ watering can’ when I meant to say BROTHER. I am sure she cackles heartily whilst they back away with panic on their faces ... it’s an ideal way to make friends and influence people.

Due to the fact Phyllis was turning my brain, legs and general well being into jelly, I was given medication.... have you ever heard your own heart beat? I have. I have also had the pleasure of replaying the lyrics to a Mcfly song in my head for 8 hours straight.... (am 35 years old and so teen pop should not be the automatic thing my drug induced brain turns too) and had a continuous plot line to ‘How I met your Mother on’ repeat.... These are not brilliant side effects to have at 2 in the morning whilst your husband is blissfully slumbering away in the background and your so tired that you want to chew the pillow and cry. So after several weeks of this, it was decided by everyone within a global radius that that particular medication was not for me. Probably for the best as it felt like my heart was going to explode out of my ears and my pupils were the size of saucers. But after they removed it I realised was just going to be little me vs Phyllis, a battle still going on to this day.

March/April brought the beginning of Lockdown and that endless pursuit of well-being, equilibrium, sanity and toilet roll. A shopping trip was like witnessing snarling animals over a territory dispute...strangers with eyes staring, yelling, barging, arguments over who had the bigger trolley every time we want to a supermarket... People scrabbling to get that last pack of baked beans, bowling grandmas down the isles, sending shoppers flying like bowling pins, climbing over children, ripping open packs of spaghetti then proceeding to stab people’s eyes with it, just to get the last bag of cheesy snacks on the shelf... incoherently grunting at the cowering till workers. Like a scene from Shaun of the Dead. I hoped that a crisis would bring out the best in us, that we would all come together and support and look out for our fellow man but no such luck there. And when you are already battling several illnesses all trying to set up a commune inside your body, the thought of going out into the madness that was unfolding all around us was terrifying.

June/July/August was the summer of isolation. Now I deal with isolation on a daily basis but even when your illnesses do a fabulous job of isolating, you find things, tiny things to focus on, enjoy and look forward to. First good thing in this period of isolation, was that I found out I was nominated for an award FOR MY LITTLE BLOG!!! (Victory cookies, trumpets sounded, woo hoo noises) This was a huge surprise and completely awesome. I was so blessed and felt incredibly honoured to even be considered. I truly think that this was one of the proudest moments and achievements in my life and it’s something I remain hugely proud of. Secondly early during this time myself and my dear friend who runs a hugely successful FB group supporting those who have Microscopic Colitis, decided we were going to come together and write a book about living with Microscopic Colitis including my blogs and stories. This makes me go eeeeeeeeeeeeeeep and almost wee myself with excitement. We can’t wait to put it all together for you all. And thirdly my very clever, very awesome husband had passed his last ACCA exam (Yaaaay) and our bubble was holding strong, Me and my husband were adapting to lockdown life and enjoying our time together. All was good.

For a few months, I ignored my raging body, put my fingers in my ears and loudly sang ‘la la la la’ everytime one threatened to ruin my day... ‘I will just try harder’ I would say or ‘it’s not effecting me’ or ‘it’s not beating me’ ... blindly ignoring the fact that my body was screaming at me... because I am stupidly stubborn. I refuse to let anything beat me... especially illness. However an unfortunate event happened around this time, and after it happened, my illnesses must of all had a pow wow, came together by torchlight and all decided that with no warning they were going to barge past my defences, clobber my Arsenal, scratch their eyes out tromp up and down my body yelling “Na na na na na we told you so” in my ears, whist Phyllis stomped on my limbs. She then got out her mallet, whacked my hands so they blew up, and then proceeded to harness her artistic side and paint my hands blue just coz she thought regular skin colour was ‘so last season’ and using a giant straw sucked all the colour out of my face. Miss Anxiety who was usually fairly quiet in her zen garden of peace, decided now was the perfect time to start learning Death Metal music without wearing earphones, whilst reading me my favourite novel ‘100 reasons why you failed’ at in oppertune hours of the morning. Slowly Colin the colon began blowing himself up like a balloon, and built a giant wall so I couldn’t poop and I shook like a vibrator on setting 4. And I couldn’t stop it... it completely swamped me. All that ‘it doesn’t matter it’s not beating me’ was hogwash all the ‘you’re defying what you should be doing’ from my doctors went out of the window.... I was struggling and I knew it and so did my body and once more I had nothing outside my little bubble to distract me from it.

Which leads me to the worst 3 months since I first had the symptoms of Microscopic Colitis and Colin the Colon began behaving like an uncooperative toddler hyped up on sweeties. I kid you not. Brace yourself.

Now firstly I want to firmly state I am used to pain. I am aware that It’s better to be used to daisies or marshmallows, or stroking puppies but sadly I am used to pain. Phyllis gives me a lot of it on a daily and nightly basis. I also have a high pain threshold. No honestly I do. I can be stoic when in pain. Which is useful. You won’t often know I am in crippling pain unless I tell you. So when I say September was the month we refer to as ‘agonising pain month’ you can be sure it really was. A niggle in mid September, which naturally I ignored, turned into ‘HOLY CRAP WHY IS THE DEVIL DOING A CAN CAN ON MY BACK WHIST INSERTING HOT POKERS THROUGH MY SIDE??’ (Insert 39 creative swear words) I tried to go to my happy place which was replaced by fire and knives, deep breathing techniques, which when applied felt like I was breathing in acid’ and positive thoughts were replaced with demons in a conga line singing a rousing rendition of “boiled and roasted, lightly toasted, fricase and lit and flambéd” in unison. Cue paramedics, more swearing, being sent to hospital via ambulance, sucking gas and air, been given a plethora of drugs, poking, needles, and my right hand side feeling like all my nerves were being forcibly twanged like the strings in a guitar. The pain would not go, it did not change, it didn’t ease, it led to 5 days in 3 different wards where it was too painful to touch my skin, mind numbing exhaustion where it felt like my legs were encased in lead and taking a few steps felt like I had run up a mountain, and showers where I would be huddled over in tears trying to wash myself, keep balance and not shout obscenities at my wash cloth.

When you have on your notes that you have a chronic illness resulting in widespread pain, and you end up in hospital trying to explain your body is trying to leave its self forcibly and quickly through a firery tunnel of woe, guess what happens? They assume it’s the chronic illness. Yep. You are immediately bundled into that catorgory without a second thought. Doesn’t matter the pain was on my right hand side, felt like I was being stabbed through my lung, and have never had anything like it before. Nope. And throughout my whole stay I felt like an imposter. Like I shouldn’t be there. Even though I was in so much pain I couldn’t stand and even lying down made me go cross eyed it felt like I was being judged. Scruitinised. They knew I needed to be there. But somehow made me feel like it was all part of my condition. It wasn’t. The stay was also traumatic. There were some very very poorly people on my ward, having incredibly tough conversations with drs, family, hospice and my heart broke more than once during my stay. And my pain team who I have been under since I was introduced to Phyllis, did not come and see me once. Not cocking once, despite being asked to several times. I was not impressed to say the least.

Once I returned home, (still in sodding pain I might add) I had multiple attacks. One attack was so bad my wonderful best friend had to come and rescue me as I had dropped to the floor and couldn’t get up again... and I was completely on my own at the time so thank Christ she did, or Kyle would have come home to me lying on the floor surrounded by a puddle of wee and tears with chew marks in the carpet, where I have tried to propel myself across the room by my teeth. And the thing about consuming more meds than a pharmaceutical trade convention, is that it effected Colin. He declined to let anything pass, like a hulky bouncer at a club... He denied ANYTHING to go through, for 9 days... after 9 days sweating, cramping, hobbling due to back spasms, red faced eyes bulging and dizzy I presented again in casualty .... so off balance in fact I dropped my phone down the loo in a&e and then panicked trying to scoop out the urine sodden device attempting to drying it out under a dryer... sigh. And would they help with Colin, even though I have a bowel disease? NO! “Wait until you reach 11 days, and if no movement then, then we will intervene” I was told. 11 COCKING DAYS!!!! If there was no movement by 11 days they would not have had to intervene, they would have found me on day 11 swearing, full of a combination of laxatives, prunes and other such things scooting on their bloody floor shouting obscenities at the toilet bowl, trying to get my colon out with a spoon. This bout of constipation led to tearing so much i lost so much blood I filled a toilet bowl and consequently 3 more weeks of hydrocortisone suppositories, laxtatives and pain killers and it’s still effecting me now. Colin is most certainly not my friend at the moment. During this time feeling thoroughly abandoned I sought advice in private health care who discovered during a scan that I had a new resident in my right lung... I call him Filbert the lung goblin. He is a small undertiminable mass and is also not bloody welcome. There is no room. I have made it clear to him that he is not staying long but he ignores me and likes to find ways of stomping on my lung in his big Goblin boots at various times of the day causing me to yell out in surprise and pain.

So fast forward to the present day, complete with Phyllis, Colin, Filbert and god knows who else. I have been to physio for my back, (my right side of my back is rigid) where each session she either gives me exercises through zoom or she bends me like a pretzel and pulls me in different directions in person, (after making sure I have consumed enough painkillers to take down a fully grown Rhino) making my eyes bulge. I have been having regular sessions with a Psychologist who is helping me work on ... well me, and it’s not easy. This new back complication makes it doubly difficult, as even the smallest movement in my right hand side can set off hours of hell and spasms so I have had to have found other ways of moving, writing, working holding things and generally coping. I lost my dear friend a little while ago so I am also grieving in my own way for her. But I am also acutely aware that we and our family are safe when thousands have not been, We and our families are without COVID and allthogh isolation makes things harder, we are blessed we have what we have. It’s difficult to focus on the positive in a sea of crap, but I try to keep looking on what’s there rather than what’s missing. I try to find joy in the small things and am finally realising that I have to slow down. The realisation that I am ill has been a long time coming, and the further acceptance that comes with that is even more difficult. It’s definitely been a journey and even though it’s still one step in front of another, it’s still steps forward in the right direction, and even if I lose the map and veer off course, that’s okay too. It’s okay not to be okay and it’s okay to adjust to your new normal whatever that might be. It’s just another chapter and I think I am going to try and be more kind and accepting of my new normal moving forwards. So I start my year with a new found appreciation of myself, trying to be kinder to myself and trying to open up more to my loved ones. It’s been one hell of a year, but it’s a year of difficulties we have all shared in our own way. And by sharing we support each other. After all no matter what last year threw at us all and no matter what this year brings. We are all in this together. ❤️

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds s05e13 “Risky Business” review - or more aptly named, the episode where Penelope shines and we learn more about JJ and it’s both amazing and heartbreaking

Episode 13 – Risky Business

Hey guys! So last episode was a wower, because it showed us that even the scariest unsubs can be actual victims, and it showed how truly amazing Spencer is and I love him so freaking much.

Okay, let’s see what happens.

Uh-oh. Teenagers. This can’t be good.

Birdie!

What are they doing? Oh god, please no.

Oh dear fuck. Oh my goodness fucking gracious.

FUCK!

WHY?

“But the previous Friday, two more boys a few towns over were found hanging on the backs of their doors.”

Wait. Four suicides in the same rural county in a week? WHAT?

“When someone feels trapped in what feels like a hopeless situation, pulling the trigger or swallowing pills or hanging yourself seems like the only way out.”

“None of that seems to exist here.”

“Something’s really wrong.”

Is this more insight into JJ’s past? YAY!

Oh god, this is another bad one. I don’t like it.

Mother Teresa: “Life is a game. Play it. Life is too precious. Do not destroy it.”

Powerful.

“Sir, it’s not that I’m not glad to be coming with you, because I am. I just don’t understand the why.”

Oh my cutie is coming in on the case XDDDDDDDD

Yay!

Just made my day.

“Our victims are all internet generation kids.”

Yup.

“There should be invaluable personal data on their computers to mine for the evaluation.”

“If they committed suicide, evidence of it will probably be in their cyber world.”

Oh dear.

“So I’m gonna snoop through dead kids’ computers?”

Oh my honey.

“This plane seldom makes pleasure trips.”

Oh my honeys.

“Sometimes a suicidal person, in the days leading up to the act, will just blurt out ‘I love you’ to family, sort of like a goodbye.”

Wait. Someone she knew committed suicide? Oh my baby angel.

“Sensationalizing these deaths may cause a domino effect with other kids.”

Yup.

“Is there a good place for me to set up?”

“Don’t have much of a command center.”

“Oh, fret not. I got my own command center. I just need your juice.”

Yup. My baby is all prepped.

Wait. Did JJ just say ‘If your daughter committed suicide,”? Uh-oh.

“I knew he didn’t kill himself. He wouldn’t do that to us.”

Wait what?

To you? Seriously?

“I’m sorry?” the FBI doesn’t investigate suicides?

“That’s not exactly true. Sometimes we do what’s called an equivocal death investigation to figure out the manner of death.”

Oh dear.

“Our investigation will try and sort it all out for you.”

Oh my goodness, his gravelly voice here is doing things to me.

Damn it. Nothing that would lead to suicide on either kid. Fuck.

Definitely something going on here.

“Where’s Ryan’s computer?”

Wait. Hold up. He didn’t have a laptop? That’s odd.

Smart parents.

“If you just get us the network IP address, I believe our technical analyst can go over it offsite.”

You bet your sweet hiney she can.

“Hey, you ready to delve into Trish Leake’s online world?”

“If by ready you mean extremely capable and even more reluctant.”

Oh honey.

“Well, that’s weird.”

“What?”

Yeah, what?

“There’s nothing here.”

“Nothing useful?”

“Nothing at all.”

What?

“I didn’t say empty, I said appears to be blank.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m gonna need a little while.”

Ruh-roh.

“I got it!”

You know it.

“It was just a basic Trojan horse. It just hid the directories, didn’t erase them.”

Awesome.

“Oh god.”

Oh no.

“She was on a choking game site the night she died.”

A what now???

So I just googled it. And turns out it was a real thing that happened all over … oh my god, thank you guys for addressing the seriousness of stupidity of people. Oh my freaking goodness, who would want to do that to themselves intentionally?

“It’s a game kids play where they choke themselves to get a buzz, to get high.”

“They call it the good kids’ game. You get lightheaded and a sense of euphoria even though no actual drugs are involved.”

“It’s something kids in high school play.”

Oh dear.

“Did Ryan have a computer?”

“Not in his room.”

“What about a gaming system?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Oh boy.

So my lovely can get into the gaming system via the IP address. You lovely brainiac.

“Bingo. Ryan was on the same site on the same night.”

“It wasn’t suicide.”

Fuck.

“Hang on, this is a text to voice icon. Let’s see what happens.”

Oh boy.

Fuck. Someone dared the kids to do this? Oh my goodness.

“There’s a whole subculture around this game. They make up names for it, they do it at parties.”

Oh god, I’m about to be sick.

“But someone is daring these kids in this area to play the game.”

“It’s a contest. And there are rules.”

Oh dear lordy.

“Diss – sounds like kids.”

Yup.

“Doing it alone requires ligatures.”

Fuck.

“Garcia, shut the side down.”

“Sir, I can totally do that, but I don’t think you want me to.”

What?

“Why?”

“Right now this site is our only way to track the unsub, and if I cut into it, he will certainly know we’re watching him, in which case he’ll shut it down, and he’ll write a simple change in code, bring it back up in a more covert fashion.”

Oh boy.

“Plus there’s no telling how many servers it’s replicated on anyway.”

“You’re right.”

Of course she is.

Fuck. This is awful.

“In real life, he considers himself a loser. In cyberspace, he can pull strings. Makes him feel powerful.”

Oh god.

So now they have to warn the kids? Oh dear, this is going to be hard.

Oh honey, you’re trying to explain it scientifically? Oh dear. This is not going togo over well.

Oh my god, supervising Derek in a classroom. I love this!

“Hey, kid. Not a good idea. Let me see it.”

Ha. And he’s FBI, so he has to do as Derek asks. XD

“What planet is this dude from?”

Oh my god, I just died.

So mean.

“He doesn’t want us to win the context.”

“I think the more accurate statement would be, ‘he doesn’t want us to participate in the contest at all.’”

Amen to that.

I love how the minute he personalizes the case, everyone starts listening to my poodle.

Smart.

“All because he wanted to participate in what I consider to be a pretty … pretty lame game.”

Yup.

“Your text is actually completely accurate. I don’t want you to win the contest, because I don’t want you to play the game.”

“You all believe this crap?”

Oh boy.

“You don’t?”

“Why don’t you come up here and tell us what you think.”

Oooh, he just called up to the front of the class by Morgan.

DAMN.

Ha. He just totally ran out of the classroom. GUILTY!

I’m sorry, but watching Derek chasing a kid down a high school is the funniest thing ever. And it shouldn’t be, but it is to me. Sorry.

Wait. Is Shemar straddling a kid? Oh god. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that, but that’s essentially what’s going on here, right?

“You okay?”

My poodle is asking Derek if he’s okay? Oh god.

“Morgan, look at his neck.”

Oh dear. What’s that?

“Let me look at your neck.”

“Relax.”

Okay. I like this angle.

Fuck. He’s been strangled for a long time. Fuck.

I want to be that cup.

Wait. The Sheriff knows the dad? Oh dear.

“Actually, I’m not that type of doctor. I’m with the FBI.”

Oops.

“Your son needs to go in for some tests”

Well, that’s never good.

Did he just take a USB drive out of the laptop?

It’s the dad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“When bad things happen to us, we get frustrated, kid.”

Oh my honeys trying to get him to talk.

And it’s not working.

“This Christopher kid is fantastical. He’s got a segmented hard drive, serious firewalls, major league encryption.”

Wow.

“No reason for all that unless he’s hiding something serious.”

Yup.

“This is … growl … unusual.” Wait what?

“Every attack I launch is shot down immediately.”

What?

How come?

“What’s that?”

“Somebody just uploaded a new video to the game site.”

Fuck.

“Guys, I’m gonna keep dead-ending on this until I get a beat on how he set up his security system.”

You work your magic, baby girl.

“Hope you got a plan B.”

Fuck.

“Garcia, I think that this kid will relate to you better than anybody else.”

Wait, what now?

“I want you to talk to him, see if you can get him to open up.”

Oh boy.

“Sir, I have never done that before. What if I mess up?”

Oh my honey.

“You’ll be fine.”

Yes, she will.

“Hi there. I’m Penelope.”

Why you gotta be rude, dick?

“Can I sit down?”

“You’re the cop.”

Ha! She? A cop?

“Um, I look like a cop to you?”

“FBI tech analyst.”

Yup.

“I just have some administrative cyber crud to go over with you.”

Oh, she’s cute.

“Just a geekette.”

Aw, honey.

“You are glum.”

Ain’t that the truth.

“Time is a great healer.”

Is it?

“I lost my mom and my dad when I was about your age, though.”

Oh my baby!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, see … now they’re talking cyber geek, and I’m not fluent. So apologies.

“BTW, I like your nails.”

Oh god.

“You into goth?” “You know, I don’t think I’m supposed to anymore …”

“But the love is still there.”

I love this lady.

“So you’re FBI?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s crazy, but I love it.”

“I enjoy your earring, too.”

I love this woman.

“She’s good. Established rapport when Morgan and Reid couldn’t.”

Yup. I love her.

“Your whole PGP disc encryption system is like crazy impressive.”

Sure, I guess ... I have no bucking idea what she just said, but okay.

“I am jealous.”

What?

“That is state-of-the-art technology the feeb does not have.”

REALLY?

Wow.

He’s good.

“How did you get your anonymizing service?”

He just downloaded it? Whoa.

I just think it’s uber cool how you set your whole system up.”

“Like how you use an e-shredder to obliterate your net activity and a window wiper as your secondary trash eraser.”

Okay, I’m not a tech geek, but even I can tell that is impressive beyond belief.

“Who does that?”

Everybody. Yeah right, I don’t.

“The interview’s over.”

Frack. They blew her cover.

Oh my honey.

She just totally got busted for using him.

“Syl, miss P.”

Cute.

I got that XD

“Sir, I’m sorry, I tried.”

Are you kidding me? She was amazing!!!!!!!!!!

Did he just give her his earring? Whoa.

Crap. Four videos in half an hour? Oh god, this is sick.

“There was something pathetic about him, not criminal.” Huh?

Boom. Password’s his mom’s name. Got it.

She shut the site down. Awesome.

“Kids are still posting videos through independent servers.”

Shit.

“Pull up the website history. See if you can learn anything from historical posts.”

Awesome.

“Christopher’s ER eval shows his bruises were caused by manual and ligature strangulation over time.”

Wait. What now? Manual? Oh lordy.

Wait. So he changes his wording? That’s odd.

“That’s pretty sophisticated behavior for a kid.”

Damn straight. I was a dumdum when I was that age. Compared to my genius now.

“A writer can disguise his own writing style to make himself appear younger or less educated.”

True.

“Yeah, but it’s virtually impossible to make yourself appear older and more educated than you actually are.”

Yup. Definitely.

“Christopher was being manipulated by an adult.”

DUH.

I knew it was the dad. Fuck.

“He’ll find a place to download the videotapes. They’re his trophies.”

Ew.

“You need to see this.”

Oh dear.

“When his father came in the room, he seemed genuinely relieved.”

“His burden had been lifted.”

Why?

“We need to rethink everything.”

Oh boy.

Crap. The kid’s going to kill himself. Shit.

“The father’s going to want to download those videos somewhere, Garcia, and we got to stop that process.”

“Already on that. I replaced the website with a phishing site.”

Oh she’s good.

“When he logs onto that website, he’s going to be rerouted to our server, and we can capture his information.”

I’m in love with this woman.

“You know, for Christopher, a cemetery would be a place of refuge, but for the father …”

“He’s revisiting a body disposal site.”

Oh my god, that is sick.

She’s got him.

“Is he downloading the videos?”

“He’s trying to, but all he’s going to get is snow.”

I love this lady.

Please tell me they get there in time to save the kid.

Fuck.

Oh thank goodness.

“What is that?”

“It’s called a star puzzle.”

“It’s basically impossible to figure out. You have to put all of the pieces back together to form a perfect star.”

I’m crap at those.

Oh my god, my baby knits! Could she be any more perfect?

“The origin of it is kind of a romantic tale.”

“There was this young prince who wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land, so he climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom, and he caught a falling star for her.”

Story time with Emily Prentiss!

“Unfortunately, he was so excited, he dropped it, and it smashed into all of these pieces, so he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love, and he succeeded, and they lived happily ever after.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Oh god, Reid.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t catch a falling star.”

Oh boy.

“It would burn up in the atmosphere.”

Well, yeah, but …

“Yeah, but it’s not literal, Reid. It’s a fable.”

“But there’s no moral.”

Oh honey.

“Fables have morals.”

“Okay. So it’s just a romantic little story.”

“And the point is, it’s basically impossible to do because you have to take all of these pieces and put them together exactly …”

Reid, you little shit, I love you so much.

“There’s a lot to hate about you, Dr. Reid.”

“Play poker with him sometime.”

“Try playing chess with him.”

“Or Go.”

I LOVE MY SUPERHEROES SO MUCH!

Oh my god, so JJ’s sister killed herself and she was the last person to ever talk to her? Oh my god, my heart is just ripping right now. Why end the episode like this you assholes?

C.S. Lewis: “Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My god, do you learn.”

Okay, so this episode was all over the map for me. First off, I’m so glad they addressed something like The Choking Game, because it is seriously horrendous and I wasn’t aware of this and apparently I’ve been living under a rock. Second, this episode featured Penelope in a very important way, meaning she wasn’t just the little ray of sunshine but an invaluable part of the team, and it was glorious. Also, we learned about JJ’s dark past and I just want to hug her and tell her it’s alright and that she’s my little snow angel.

Overall, this show is just getting better and better and I cannot wait to see what else it has in store.

[storytime-reviews]

OUAT Review-Ill Boding Patterns

It is with a heavy heart that I write this review. This episode was not only completely dull, it served to act as the impetus for renewing the redemption arcs of both Regina and Rumple, in varying degrees of ridiculousness and retconning. Juxtaposed against the story of Captain Hook and his change for the better, this episode simply emphasised the stupidity of these storylines against that of a man who for a long time now has constantly fought to be a better man. Episodes such as this one just remind me of why I wish that this show had quit whilst it was ahead, rather than dragging everything out for as long as possible, when all it accomplishes is beating a dead horse.

The Redeeming Factor

And no, I don’t mean either of the potential redemption arcs that appear to start blossoming after this episode. In fact, the only redeeming moments of this episode are with Hook and Emma. I love that at the beginning of the episode we see Hook struggling to come to terms with what he has done, and how to tell Emma. He struggles because he knows the bad he has done, and wishes that it wouldn’t change things, but knows that it will. It’s realistic that he struggles in this way, and even asks Archie to help him decided what to do (and I’m glad we’re getting to see a bit more Archie as he’s never utilised properly like many characters on this show). It’s also realistic that Hook’s resolve crumples once he realises that Emma has discovered the ring. In this moment, one which should be completely happy, Hook can’t seem to tell the truth. Of course, I have no doubt that he will and soon, but with this surprise thrust upon him, and the joy that Emma does want to marry him, it becomes all a little too much to handle. I trust that Hook will make the right decision, because that’s the kind of man he is today.

Will My Suffering Ever End?

As always, we continue to suffer through storylines which aim to soften the audience towards Regina and make her out to be the victim, in order to create some kind of pathetic redemption arc. No doubt this latest decision to cast new Robin as some kind of bad boy villain who resists all of Regina’s attempts to keep him by her side is some kind of angle to make us feel sorry for her again. I have of course enjoyed indulging in watching new Robin emphasise how hypocritical Regina is, and yet his inclusion continues to make me question just what the writers are up to here. Not only that, it’s ridiculous and frustrating that only now is Regina seeing how stupid she was to supposedly separate herself from her evil half, all because of somebody who looks like somebody she loved. I am also annoyed that now just because new Robin wants to escape Storybrooke that Regina is suddenly concerned about breaking through the protection spell, as if there weren’t better people who wished for it to be so, but of course she doesn’t care about them. Furthermore, the fact that the Evil Queen and new Robin are now together means more trouble ahead, as if I’m not already bored enough of the EQ. Also, I can’t be the only one who got rapey vibes from how the EQ reacted to new Robin.

Probably Not.

As if to prolong my suffering further, not only is this show moving forward with more ways to ‘prove’ that Regina has redeemed herself, but now we are getting a similar storyline for Rumple. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Rumple, but as the manipulative evil little mastermind that he is, and this new apparent redemption arc simply stands on a handful of retconning and the flawed morals and ethics that have appeared to dominate this show for several seasons now. I usually love Rumple flashbacks because they are so much fun, and unlike all of Regina’s flashbacks, they don’t tend to just be repeats of each other and they actually add something to the story. But not this time. Instead of what I was expecting, this flashback simply aimed to establish Rumple as a supposedly better person than we have seen in canon so far, villainising his son Bae to do so, and thereby creating a parallel with the current day in order to start some redemption arc that I know is only going to bore and frustrate me.

In order to portray Rumple as a better person than he actually is, the show retcons his years with Bae, establishing some alternate version of reality (which the show is suggesting is real, I know ridiculous right) wherein Rumple not only withstands the pull of the dark magic unlike what we have previously seen, but Bae is actually the one that gives in to it, causing Rumple to use his dark magic, with Bae even encouraging him to continue to do so, until Rumple wupes his memory. This is nothing like the Bae and Rumple we have seen before, and the writers try to make us swallow this by including the memory wipe, as if this simple action is enough to suggest why this flashback is so different to what we have seen before. I don’t buy it, and I’m sure many of you don’t either. Worse, this show tries to pull off a parallel between this and the current day. In normal circumstances I could get behind Rumple trying to be the better man in this case, to do good by his second son in a way he couldn’t before, but not if this is meant to imply that we can basically forget everything he did before. Furthermore, that Rumple (and Belle too I suppose) seem to think that just because Gideon doesn’t commit the dark acts himself means he hasn’t given in to the darkness, is actually contrary to what normal morals and ethics would have us understand. But then again, this is Once Upon A Time, a show in which villainous acts committed by villains are forgiven easily, whereas the grey acts of the heroic characters are villainised more so, with the heroes always held accountable, unlike the villains.

Let me be clear. Any attempt to suggest that because the writers now have past Rumple trying to not give in to the dark magic, and also trying to stop his current son from doing so by going along with his plans, in order to create a redemption arc is not ok. Again, like what we’ve seen from Regina, this simply creates victims out of the villains, to attempt to make us feel sorry for them, even when their horrific actions should demand consequences. Rumple is not saving Gideon’s soul here. The very fact that Gideon thinks that his actions are acceptable under these circumstances is not only wrong, it is villainous. Just like his father and grandmother. And Rumple shouldn’t be redeemed simply for trying to stop his son becoming like him. How many times has he continued to delight in the torment and pain of others? Too many. And ‘saving’ his son is nowhere near enough to pay for his crimes.

[dtswritingthing]

Game Reviews: Nefarious

I’ve always enjoyed the character archetype of the self-actualized villain. You know, someone like Bowser; he’s the bad guy, he knows it, and he enjoys it. He’s evil because it’s fun and occasionally profitable. Video game villains have been doing this dance since the 80s, kidnapping the princess, waiting for the hero, having a little rumble, and sometimes break for tennis. But what would happen if the villain actually got away with it for a change? That’s the question we seek to answer in Nefarious.

You know you’ve been kidnapped too many times when you start learning all of the minions’ names.

Crow is a villain. It’s what his dad did before him, and his dad before that. He terrorizes Macro City, kidnapping its princess, Mayapple, on a semi-regular basis and is promptly thwarted by his heroic counterpart, Mack. However, one day, while in mid-kidnap, Mack decides he’s fed up with dealing with Crow and lets him get away with Mayapple without a fight (awkwardly breaking up with her in the process). As this is the first time one of his plans has ever made it to phase two, Crow is at a bit of a loss. Lacking a better idea, he decides to take his army on the road and kidnap princesses from around the world to power up a doomsday weapon (because princesses have magic powers, you see). I actually really like this game’s cast. Crow is dedicated to his villainy to the letter, opting for a backhanded approach whenever he thinks he can get away with it. The princesses he kidnaps (and prince in one case) all take up residence in his ship, the Sovereign, and actually start to respect crow in a bizarre mid-point between friendship and Stockholm syndrome. Crow’s secretary, Becky, makes for an amusingly deadpan foil to his theatrical attitude, and slips in a sarcastic remark every now and then to keep him grounded. Really, it’s great bunch of characters. Shame they’re not in a better game.

I appreciate commitment to a motif, but there is such a thing as too many dragons.

Sorry, that was mean, let me justify myself before I call the game bad. Nefarious is an action-platformer, kind of like a mix between Shovel Knight and Rayman, with maybe a pinch of Gunstar Heroes. Crow has two abilities: a punch and a ranged attack. Here’s a question: in most games, if you throw a punch at something, and it’s within the whole range of your arm, it takes damage, right? Well, Crow’s punch doesn’t work like that. As opposed to a straight line of damage, Crow’s punch only hits a specific spot about two feet away from him. This means if an enemy is right next to you, which most non-projectile enemies will be, your punch will literally go right past them. You can aim the punch in any direction with your stick/mouse, but that just makes it even more difficult to hit anything, since if you’re a little off target, your fist will just whiff harmlessly above an enemy’s hitbox. This problem can be mitigated slightly with fist upgrades like a triple punch or an explosive charge, but my point is that I shouldn’t need to wait until halfway through the game to be able to punch things efficiently. As for your ranged weapon, Crow’s personal favorite is a bouncing grenade. Not the best idea, since grenades are subject to gravity. More often than not, I missed my first couple of shots against any given enemy because the grenade’s trajectory is wildly inconsistent. You can use grenades to jump higher, but that actually works against you more than helps you. There were times I needed to keep running will firing on enemies, only to have the knockback from my own grenades stop me dead and leave me wide open. There are other ranged weapons you can buy, like a sticky grenade and a rocket launcher, which, again, mitigates a problem that shouldn’t really have been there in the first place. There’s also an assault rifle, but it’s completely worthless, and therefore is not worth talking about.

You know I never actually beat Chaos in the first Final Fantasy? I always felt bad about that.

The game does have two major elements to try and mix things up: the princesses and the “reverse boss fights.” When you kidnap a new princess, they give you an ability for the rest of the level that changes things up. The insect princess makes you jump higher with her wings, the ogre prince creates flame paths from your grenades, the dwarf princess rides you like a horse (which sounded a lot less sexual until I typed it out), et cetera et cetera. It spices things up a bit, though it doesn’t solve the game’s core problems. The reverse boss fights are when the local hero tries to stop Crow, and he fights back in a giant robot. The idea is that you’re playing as the giant evil robot, where in other games you’d be the little guy fighting the giant evil robot. It’s a cool idea, though not all of them work too great. One of the earlier fights, in which you pilot a flying capsule with a wrecking ball a la Dr. Eggman in Sonic the Hedgehog uses extremely wonky physics that don’t lend well to fighting a small target. Maybe that’s the joke, but it isn’t particularly funny when I have to keep trying to swing a ball and chain at a target that can knock off half my life just by jumping at me.

I’m not actually sure what this guy is supposed to be a nod to. Lost Vikings, maybe?

The frustrating thing is that I could probably stomach some of this (not all of it) if the game looked and sounded good. Unfortunately, it seems the entire art budget went to speech balloon icons. The actual character sprites look rather… what’s a nice way to put this… MS Paint-y. They’re blocky and smudgy and generally look like something I’d expect to see in a flash game on Newgrounds. And the sound- well, half the time, there isn’t any. Most of the enemies make no noise when moving or attacking. That wrecking ball fight I mentioned? Aside from when the ball touches the ground, it’s dead silent. Your ship makes no noise, the guy you fight doesn’t grunt or shout, and when he jumps or shoots at you, I might as well have ear plugs in. Have you ever played a game with no sound? It’s frigging depressing! Sound makes things seem alive, that’s why good sound design is important! The only constant is the music, most of which is just endless 50-second loops. I kid you not; one song is just a constant loop of some horns and a single sentence in Japanese repeated ad nauseam.

Tell me about it.

My playthrough of Nefarious clocked in at just under 4 hours, and that’s in spite of the fact that I beat every level, and even replayed one level I beat incorrectly to get the good ending. There are collectable records and crowns for completionists, but I’ve never believed miscellaneous collectables really count towards actual playtime. So let’s tally up here: cool cast, flawed gameplay, cheap design, and notably short. I’d say “one out of four ain’t bad,” but I’d be lying. Sorry, guys. It was a good idea, really, but you took it out of the oven too soon. For what it’s worth, you made some fun characters. Try putting them in something better next time.

Sorry, not happening. Thumbs down.

[yarnsmith]

10. White

Viggo was antsy once he got home.  He tried to concentrate on swimming.  It didn't really work, and his focus suffered.  He tried to focus on training Hope.  That was a bit easier, since there was fun involved, but still Viggo wasn't a very forceful person.  He even tried to focus on getting ready for school, without much headway. He kept on thinking about that night in the hotel, and how things pretty much returned to normal after that night.  Maybe it was just a dream, but now it was the only thing he could think of. Mannie, on the other hand seemed oddly hyper focused.  He was gathering curriculum, he was making presentations, he was reviewing textbooks.  He was also reviewing grad students. "This is why I was always an adjunct before." he said at least 10 times a day.  The very first time, Viggo reminded him that it was better for his career and his finances, after that there really was no need to beat a dead horse.  Mannie also muttered to himself, quite a bit.  Viggo wondered what it was all about, but wasn't brave enough to confront him. Then one day, a student came to his house, looking for Mannie.  The girl seemed surprised to meet Viggo, and asked when Viggo expected him back.  By this point, Viggo was feeling slightly paranoid, and closed and locked the door in her face.  He retreated to his bedroom, and that is where Mannie found him even an hour later. "I'm afraid this house may be rubbing off on you." Mannie said.  He patted Viggo's leg.  The stray cat that wondered in and out had made a bed on Viggo's lap, and scurried off when Mannie appeared. "I don't know what that means." Viggo said honestly. "I mean, before I lived here, I didn't shut doors in peoples faces." "I'm sorry.  I really didn't know what to do.  Your students aren't supposed to come to your homes, right?" Mannie nodded. "That's true.  That's why I will not have anything to do with her.  I talked to her.  I told her next time she came here, I would take out a restraining order.  I think that woke her up.  I doubt she meant any harm..." "So, I should just tell them it's inappropriate and ask them to leave?" Viggo clarified. "Hmm.  Maybe you should tell them you are my boyfriend.  IF it is a young lady, then that should scare her away.  If a young man, then, sure." Viggo blinked. "I'm your boyfriend?" Mannie nodded. "I...hope...so..." Viggo "What about the hotel room?" Mannie scooted closer so they were laying head to feet. "I thought boyfriends did that kind of thing..." "I mean since..." "Fuck V.  I'm sorry.  I wish I had your energy.  I don't know.  Honestly I don't feel like that all the time.  Sometimes I feel...white." "White? Is it depression? Anxiety? Something else?" "That's just it.  It's nothing.  I feel empty.  I feel like a part of me died.  I don't know how to act without that part.  But that night..it wasn't like that.  I felt full.  Overflowing.  Like blue." "I love how you equate feelings to colors." Viggo mused. "Good.  I'm glad.  Because I think that's part of it.  I'm falling in love with you, and I really don't know how to do that.  Not from a pit of emptiness." Viggo bit his lip. "I love you, too.  You don't have to force yourself to do anything.  Just remember I'm eighteen.  Maybe I should just masterbate or something..." Mannie chuckled a bit. "You should defiantly masterbate.  But, V, there is something slightly more serious I need you to consider." Mannie sat up, and Viggo slowly followed suit. "If you want to go out and have fun...and by fun I mean sex.  Then go.  Just...just come home to me.  Okay? Just...just be safe." "You want to be polyamorous?" Viggo wondered. Mannie chuckled. "I already am.  I still love Nikki.  Maybe one day, I will be able to let go.  But that's not today.  I'm sorry." Viggo shook his head. "No.  Don't be sorry.  I just wanted to be clear.  I don't want to assume anything.  I understand. Sometimes I feel like Nikki and I, are.... it's almost like she's still here, competing for you.  So maybe...casual sex with other partners would help..." Mannie sniffled a bit. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way.  It's not really her.  It's just my own wounded psyche.  I don't think...I don't want to loose you too..." Viggo reached over and kissed Manny, gently. "Then just don't push me away.  I accept your terms.  I will have casual, only casual sex with other partners on one condition.  You let me have sex with you first." Mannie gave the smallest blush. "I think we did okay in the hotel room." Viggo smiled "You had no problem getting me off.  Thank you for the hand job.  What about you?" "It's sometimes hard for me to..." "Since when?" Viggo interrupted. "I guess...since Nikki passed..." Mannie sighed. "I felt an erection that night.  At the hotel." Mannie nodded. "It's sometimes hard for me to keep them." he whispered. "You should talk to your doctor. Promise me." "Løfte." Mannie confirmed. Viggo kissed Mannie lightly again, when he heard the Danish word for promise. "What if I...." Viggo muttered.  His mouth when dry, and his brain seemed to short circuit. "Viggp, I know I'm older, but you do have more experience with men. So, please tell me frankly, what if you...?" "What if I...top?" Viggo asked gently. A light bulb went off in Mannie's head. "Oh." he said and nodded.  And then thought he should add. "I've never had anything, bigger than a but plug up..up there." Viggo nodded. "Okay.  Jeg vil være forsigtig." He tugged at Mannie's shirt and Mannie helped him pull it off. "I'm going to need English, V.  Please." Viggo pointed to himself. "Gentle." he said and was rewarded with another kiss.