#thinking about that one art of AM and HAL playing chess

[sassygaykuja]

I love the idea that despite being a computer AM is terrible at logic games like chess like he's got access to entire databases on chess strategy he can pull up in a nanosecond but it's completely useless because he tilts off of everything and gets stuck in a recursive anger loop

[jackoshadows]

Are there any literary comparisons you would make to ASOIAF or ASOIAF characters?

Under the cut.

I don't want to deny that I write in fantasy, I think I obviously do. There's magic and there's dragons and swords, and all the traditional trappings of fantasy here. But I've also written in other genres in the past, a lot of science fiction, horror, and books that are strange hybrids of all of these things.

I've always agreed with William Faulkner—he said that the human heart in conflict with itself is the only thing worth writing about. I've always taken that as my guiding principle, and the rest is just set dressing. I mean, you can have a dragon, you can have a science fiction story set on a distant planet with aliens and starships, you can have a western about a gunslinger, or a mystery novel about a private eye, or even literary fiction—and ultimately you're still writing about the human heart in conflict with itself. So that's the way I try to approach this thing. And while I may work within a genre, I've never liked to be bound by them. I have a lot of fun in frustrating genre expectations, using a bit of this or a bit of that, and doing something that hasn't been done before. - GRRM

“Dwelling where I am now, deep in the heart of Westeros, I find myself surrounded by my characters, the children of my mind and heart and soul. They are real to me, as I write them, and I struggle to make them real to my readers as well. All of them are flawed, from the best to the worst. They do heroic things, they do selfish things. Some are strong and some are weak, some smart and some stupid. The smartest may do stupid things. The bravest may have moments when their courage fails. Great harms may be done from the noblest motives, great good from motives vile and venal. Life is like that, and art should reflect that, if it is to remain true. Ours is a world of contradiction and unintended consequences. Boromir is my favorite member of the Fellowship. The tragic hero. Shakespeare’s Brutus speaks to me as well (more so than the real one); the noblest Roman of them all, whose nobility — and gullibility — lead him to commit a vile crime. Captain Ahab, Wolf Larsen, Gatsby, Falstaff and Hotspur and Prince Hal (those plays are full of flawed characters, each with his own failings), Ebeneezer Scrooge and Sydney Carton, Gully Foyle, Roger’s Sam, Dr. Doom and Dr. Jekyll and Dr. Moreau, Morbius of Altair IV, Huckleberry Finn, Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain (but not Sir Galahad, so perfect, so empty) and Guinevere and Arthur and even Mordred, that little shit.. oh, the list is long. And when my reading turns to history, biography, memoirs, my response is much the same.” - GRRM

Tommy’s me . . . but no more than all the others. Robb is me in "Song for Lya," as Dirk is me in Dying of the Light . . . though Arkin Ruark and Jaan Antony in that one are both me as well. Abner Marsh is me, as his proud sidewheeler Fevre Dream is the excursion boat to Far Rockaway, only the passengers drink blood instead of Kool-Aid. Sandy Blair is J-school me, Peter Norten is chess club me, Kenny Dorchester is me trying to lose weight. Holt in "The Stone City," he’s the kid lying in the grass, staring up at distant stars. Trager is me on a dark night of the soul, bleeding poison from three wounds named Josie, Laurel, Rita. Jon Snow has me in him, and Sam Tarly. The women too, Lyanna and Shaara, and the girls, Arya and Adara . . . Daenerys Stormborn, searching for that house with the red door. And Tyrion Lannister? Oh, yes. The Imp is me in spades, the horny little bastard - GRRM

Tyrion is the character I’ve always had the easiest time writing. Maybe that’s the character I wish I could be, in a sense, despite all of his drawbacks. But of course I’m obviously not Tyrion. Tyrion has a wonderful wit to him, and he throws off witticisms every moment that take me weeks to come up with. I have to rewrite them four times, before I get the line just right. In real life, I’m always the guy thinking, “Ah! That’s what I should have said!” But I only think of it three weeks later. - GRRM

The character I’m probably most like in real life is Samwell Tarly. Good old Sam. And the character I’d want to be? Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. Theon [Greyjoy] is the one I’d fear becoming. Theon wants to be Jon Snow, but he can’t do it. He keeps making the wrong decisions. He keeps giving into to his own selfish, worst impulses. - GRRM

Ultimately I think GRRM explores a lot of common literary themes in his books - Good Vs Evil, Morality, Selfish Love Vs The greater good, War and it's effects, Heroes being the Villains of the other side, Coming of age etc. He borrows from a lot of early fantasy, science fiction and super hero comics and then puts his own twist on the story. Fevre Dream for example deals with vampires and yet tackles some of the same themes, like moral ambiguity, as ASoIaF.

As a political epic I can compare it to having some of the themes of the Mahabharata (Though the Mahabharata is on a grander, more vast and complex scale) in terms of dysfunctional families, betrayal, war, good and evil, love and duty and all that. I can compare Jon and Theon's identity issues with the character of Karna in the Mahabharata. Arya has been compared to Odysseus with the themes of longing for home and homecoming and I can certainly see that. I can see similarities to other works of fantasy/science fiction in the world building and plot - Wheel of Time, Dune, LOTR and Memory, Sorrow and Thorn.

In the quotes above, GRRM mentions the tragic heroes and flawed characters he loves - no doubt there are versions of all of them in the books.

To make a literary comparison for ex, Tyrion, in my opinion, comes closest to Sydney Carton. GRRM has notably compared Tyrion to Richard III and if you look at quite a few of GRRM's books, the main character is similar to Tyrion in terms of appearance, wit and attitude. It's clear that GRRM just loves writing for Tyrion, that he loves everything about this character archetype and that this type of character has a lot of GRRM himself in them.

And no doubt GRRM loves using imagery, metaphors or symbolism in certain instances. However, a lot of the time it doesn't go deeper than that in my opinion. Daenerys being served honeyed locusts is not GRRM making some biblical commentary. Rather it's a way to highlight the exotic nature of the place.

To take the topic of Medusa for ex. The imagery is certainly there with Sansa's hairnet, the medusa imagery in the prophecy with the purple serpents etc. However, I personally think there is nothing more to this than that. I doubt GRRM is borrowing from Medusa for the themes in Sansa's story.

I tend to embrace the Medusa symbolism of feminist rage. Medusa is Cersei being punished by the Walk of Shame for having sex with men after Robert's death. It's the Madonna-Whore complex propaganda against Daenerys.

They say her lust cannot be sated, that she mates with men, women, eunuchs, even dogs and children, and woe betide the lover who fails to satisfy her. She gives her body to men to take their souls in thrall.

It's embracing the monster, seeing the monster as a protector, empowered with justified rage towards those who oppress women. That's not Sansa for me. That's Daenerys and Arya.

And I honestly don't think GRRM is writing any of that or digging any deeper with these themes. At the end of the day, we can enjoy the story for what it is without the need for literary comparisons.

I find the Winterfell plot in ADwD to be really interesting. There's elements of horror and trauma - everything that happens to Jeyne Poole and Theon. There's political intrigue with the Boltons, Freys Manderly, Barbrey and other houses. There's mystery - who is the hooded guy Theon meets. There's a thriller - Die Hard in Winterfell- with disguised Mance and Spearwives secretly running around killing Bolton men in a mission to rescue fArya. There's the setting - Snow and cold and winds and magic. There's several themes in there with an entertaining story told on it's own with any need for deeper literary analysis.

So yeah, I decided to put in GRRM's quotes in there so you can get an idea of the literary comparisons the author himself is possibly using in these books.

[honestlywtfisgoingon]

A Match Set

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Pairing: Benny Watts x Reader

Summary: After meeting one night in New York, you and Benny Watts are drawn to each other. As you go through different experiences with one another, you grow closer until it finally gets to be too much for Benny.

Word Count: 1890

Warnings: none

Notes: aye this is my first fic because there is a serious lack of benny watts fics and i had to change that for myself. this will probably be multiple chapters that can be read separately.

It was your first art gallery, and you were both anxious and overjoyed to see people surveying your work. You had put so many hours into each piece and all kinds of people had poured in to look. It was a well known gallery, but the variety still surprised you. You looked around and saw some interesting characters, but your interest was piqued when your eyes fell upon a particular cowboy.

He was inspecting one of your favorite paintings which had chess pieces as the subject. The pieces merely served as part of a metaphor in your art, as the game and all its complexities had never really been your thing. As you looked closer at the man you realized that, not only had his outfit sparked your interest, but he seemed familiar too. Out of curiosity, you walked over and stood next to him.

“What are your thoughts?” You asked, motioning towards the painting.

His initial expression showed surprise that you were talking to him, but he recovered quickly, saying, “It’s good. I think the artist has talent.” You felt a bit of pride hearing that. You opened your mouth to say thanks, but you decided not to reveal yourself. You wanted him to give his honest opinion without fear of offending you.

“So do you like chess?” He nodded to the painting. Hearing this you made the connection as to why you remembered seeing him before. Your father owned a little bookshop back home and you were looking into chess for the same painting you were discussing right now. You had seen this cowboy on the back of one of those books, but you hadn’t given it another thought, never actually expecting to meet him. You decided not to reveal this information either and continued with the conversation.

“I can play a modest game. You?”

“I can play a modest game.” He had a small smile as he shrugged.

“Your first lie.” You said smirking back.

He looked confused but curious, so you explained about your research, your fathers bookshop, the whole story. He puffed up a bit after hearing that, looking impressed that you knew who he was.

“What’s your name?” He asked, still curious.

“Y/n” you replied.

“Nice name. I’m Benny, but you already seem to know who I am. On the other hand I don’t know anything about you.” He reached out his hand to shake yours.

“You walk in here with a black trench coat but you make me out to be the mysterious one,” you smirked as you took his hand. He chuckled a bit, and after your introduction, you asked why he was here.

“My friend knows the artist actually. She told us we had to see her work before going out.” You hummed as you thought about what to say, but he interjected.

“I don’t usually do this, and I’m not sure why I’m doing this now, but maybe you’d consider coffee with me. I won’t tell anymore lies” he joked.

You laughed a little, mildly shocked. “you’re not sure why? That’s flattering” you teased.

“Not what I meant-“ but before you could come to a conclusion on his sudden offer, you heard an excited french accent.

“Y/n! Im so proud! You finally got to show off all that talent!” Your friend Cleo ran up to you and wrapped her arms around you. You hadn’t seen her since you lived in France for a few months and you had missed her. You left for France after you realized you weren’t really needed at home, so you dedicated yourself to trying to soak up some culture. She looked gorgeous like you remembered, fitting for a model. You continued your reunion embrace for a moment before she waved her arms to the men and woman behind her. She introduced the friends she had brought to your show as Arthur, Hilton, and Annette, who all smiled at you. Cleo paused to turn to the cowboy saying, “I see you’ve already met Benny.”

“Yeah we met,” he said, “but I didn’t know this was your work. I would’ve told you how impressed I am.” Your cheeks turned a light pink at the praise.

“Look at Benny, impressed with someone besides himself for once.”Cleo poked fun and the group let out a laugh.

“Hey I’m not a narcissist or anything, don’t listen to Cleo,” Benny made excuses to you, only mildly offended.

“Sure you aren’t. I have nothing against narcissists,” you jokingly assured him. This answer didn’t comfort the man who had essentially just asked you on a date.

You and Cleo continued to catch up and you talked more with her friends as well. Benny just stood next to you, and you caught him glancing at you once or twice, but you just ignored it. Eventually you agreed to go out for drinks with the group, walking with them to a bar a couple blocks down called Hal’s.

You all squeezed into a booth while Arthur went off to get drinks. You sat on the outside, watching the people out on the floor next to you giggling and dancing. Having a couple of drinks beforehand must’ve contributed to the large amount of people out there, you thought. Arthur eventually announced his return by laying a tray of drinks in the middle of the table.

You were all conversing and sipping on your drinks when Annette decided she wanted to dance. Cleo agreed enthusiastically, but the rest of us refused. She suggested we all take shots to make it easier, but once again we tried to turn her down. she pleaded, “come on guys, it’s a Saturday night, and you can’t possible lose something from it. Have a little bit of fun with me!”

We relented, having a feeling that she wasn’t going to give up any time soon. She gave a little clap and handed out the shots. You knocked yours back with everyone else and grimaced at the bitter taste. Shaking it off, you slid out of the booth so the others could get out. You moved back into your spot after they all made their way to the throng of people. You decided you would join them later, but you liked to observe first. You looked over and the only two left were you and Benny. You slid over to him, not wanting to sit awkwardly on the other end like he wasn’t there.

“I bet you five bucks that lady is bored out of her mind.” He pointed to a blonde on a date across the bar, “Either she’s an alcoholic or she’s trying to tune out baldie.” You looked at the woman and saw she was surrounded by empty glasses while the man in front of her seemed like he was boasting endlessly. You both started making observations about the various people in the bar. Most of them were snarky comments that you whispered into each other’s ears, giggling, but you also created imaginary lives for them, guessing who they were and how they got here. After sharing a couple laughs, you sighed and reached a comfortable lull before Benny brought up what you knew was coming.

“So have you thought about my earlier question?” He eyed you seriously all of a sudden, but you didn’t feel any pressure. He seemed the type of confident where he thought you would say yes, but he could recover if you said no.

You weighed in your impression of him. He was cute, with fluffy hair and nice eyes that were a kind of chocolate color. He was funny and you he seemed intelligent (I mean he had to be, he played competitive chess). Albeit his trench coat and hat were a bit eccentric, but that wasn’t a bad thing, in fact you found it attractive.

“So have you?” He asked again, leaning his head in.

“Oh uh” you hadn’t realized while you were thinking that you had zoned out looking at him. Clearing your throat you said, “I’m free for coffee.” You stopped, “But you have to wear the hat.”

“Wouldn’t leave home without it” he winked.

Suddenly you were shoved against him as your tipsy friends barreled back into the booth.

“We should probably join them” you said as you moved off him, pushing one of the leftover drinks towards him. He nodded and you both drank some more just to get on the same level as your friends.

“You two haven’t even danced! I saw you whispering. Too busy flirting?” Annette smiled as she slurred a few of her words. You just looked down, cheeks pink, leaving Benny to respond.

“How were you watching us when you were dancing with that guy, the one who looks like he’s only ever kissed his mother.”

“No, I’m sure he’s kissed other people! I mean he did seem young but...” Annette looked over to the guy she dragged to dance with her earlier. He stood sheepishly in the corner, looking like he hadn’t outgrown his baby fat yet, and was definitely not a city type. “He’s just shy!” She defended, but me and Benny just looked at each other, falling into giggles. You figured out that night that Annette was one of those drunks who got a little childish, but she was sweet.

You would’ve been content to keep hanging out with Benny, if it hadn’t been for Cleo who grabbed your hand and pulled you out to the dance floor. You looked back at Benny, but gave in and allowed her to twirl you into the crowd. You were having a good time with Cleo, Hilton and Arthur dancing on either side of her. You were soon out of breath, but didn’t mind, enjoying it all.

You had moved to the city a couple months ago, but hadn’t had time to make friends, focusing on your work and setting up your apartment. You missed having company, people who were fun and interesting.

You continued to move to the beat of the song until you bumped into someone. You looked back to see Benny smiling next to you. You smiled back and let him in to the little circle you and your friends had created. You felt a little warm, not from the dancing, but from being close to him.

After fifteen minutes you were all tired and made your way to the booth to gather all your things up and pay the bill. You walked out of the bar and into the chilly night air, grateful for the residual body heat that came from all the dancing. You hugged Cleo and your new friends goodbye as took turns getting into taxis and headed towards their homes. Hilton offered to wave you down a taxi too, but you declined, explaining that your home wasn’t a far walk. He shrugged and gave you another hug before climbing into the yellow car. Once again it was just you and Benny.

“Just the two of us again huh?” He spoke, and he definitely didn’t sound turned off by the idea.

“Fate I guess.”

“Sure” he said casually.

“Do you not believe in fate?” You asked. You weren’t a firm believer in the idea but something in his tone made you curious.

“I’ve had this debate before I think. I’m not sure, but I’d like to figure it out. How about you?” He said. You imagined him having a lot of debates. You had just met him, but he seemed to fall into the intellectual category. They always kept things interesting, and frequently offered new perspectives.

“I mean everything’s gotta mean something, there has to be a purpose. I just don’t know if we make our own purpose or if we’re given a purpose; fate.” You mused, not meaning to get existential. He didn’t seem to mind.

“You seem like the type to want to figure things out too.” He said ‘too’. So you and him both liked to do that. You added that to the growing list of things you liked about him.

“I guess I am.” He had a pleased look on his face and you just shrugged as you started to say goodbye.

“Wait” he grabbed your arm, “I heard you say you didn’t live far, I could walk you.” Before you could protest he told you, “it wouldn’t be a big deal, I heard you tell Hilton where you lived, we’re in the same direction.”

You agreed, finding yourself wanting to talk to him more. He offered you his arm casually and you laughed to yourself a little at the gesture, taking it anyway. You walked down the sidewalk, talking and laughing. You felt comfortable as you felt like you leveled with him. It seemed like too short of a walk as you suddenly found yourself at the door of your apartment building.

“Guess this is goodnight.” Benny said as you both stood on the sidewalk.

“What about coffee?” You asked.

“Glad you remembered. I’ll pick you up at twelve tomorrow, we can make it lunch. I’ll pick you up.” He said it decidedly, like it was just a fact. Something you noticed he did often.

“Ok then. Lunch. Tomorrow. Am I forgetting anything?” You said as you stepped halfway into the doorway.

“If you are we can figure that out later. I’ll see you.” He waved with a slight smile.

You waved back and smiled in return, watching him walk away before closing the door. You sped up to your apartment, letting yourself finally feel the excitement and anticipation of going out. You stripped off your clothing as soon as you got in and flopped on your bed, feeling sort of giddy. You felt like you and Benny were connected, though you had barely met him. As you laid down you smiled to yourself, looking forward to tomorrow.

[iihappydaysii]

these cute boys and their poor communication skills god help us all

alright, strap in my pals, because I’ve just rewatched the infamous john makes a move on jamie in ardsmuir and it all goes to shit scene and I have a lot of fucking thoughts. (this is focused on the show btw, i haven’t read this part of the books).

ok so it’s been three months since they’ve decided to be all friendly. and it breaks my heart to see because, there’s this easy happiness here and it’s so obvious how well they get along and enjoy each other’s company — and Grey helping Murtagh obviously endeared him to Jamie a bit.

Also, let’s just acknowledge Jamie saying “why you cunning wee bastard” when John does a good chess move and how it’s sooo mother forking hot. i can’t even tell ye. and grey is so proud of himself. (also my heart is always so full when I see John wearing Hector’s ring).

(pretty much the overarching theme of this is going to be that I totally get why john gets the wrong idea from jamie, especially given how subtle things had to be at the time. it doesn’t /not/ remind me of how john and percy will eventually dance around their feelings without saying anything. it’s like a quiet, sad art. unfortunately, my sweet, sweet boy gets it wrong here.)

Anyway, it hurts my soul that they both wanted to die after culloden, like their lives were both changed that day and now Grey is going to talk about a “particular friend” kill me. “he inspired me” stab me. oops and him talking about that deleted scene of Hal dragging Grey away from Hector’s dead body. (idk why i’m sometimes calling him john and sometimes grey, don’t ask questions)

“He was embarrassed you see” this is where it all gets wild to me. there’s no way NO waY Jamie doesn’t realize what Grey is saying. You see it in Jamie’s face. Realization but it’s not like he’s upset or anything—and what John shares here leads him to talk about Claire—to trust John with her name—so obviously he’s drawing a connection between the two things.

All I’m saying is that right then is when Jamie knows that Grey is gay, or whatever concept he could have of it at the time. (i think jamie’s reaction here is a big part of why john gets the wrong signal), he’s not upset by it.

Jamie’s whole speech about “caring for those we cannot help” is such foreshadowing of John’s relationship with Jamie but carry on. Oh and, emptiness but no great burden seems to be important— I’ll come back to that in a moment.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for some time, major” Thanking John and calling him major, sign me the fuck up, but i’ve always loved this moment. it’s jamie expressing his like a trust for the man—and again, this is where their wires start getting even more crossed.

(I love John’s face when he realizes it was Claire he saved not an actual english woman in danger, poor guy)

I don’t think Jamie is meaning to flirt here at ALL, but i totally get why John starts to think he is. There are some serious signals. Lots of eye contact, leaning in, playful banter, just he sound of jamie’s voice here etc. all following John’s obvious confession that he was interested in men. on top of that, jamie is complementing him. talking about what a good man he is.

now is the moment when it all goes to shit and it’s interesting that john says “I see”. it’s not the most appropriate response to Jamie’s “I’ve thought of that now and again since I’ve lost her”. It’s just such an interesting reaction from John here. What does he think he’s seeing? That Jamie needs someone the way he needs someone. I said I’d talk about the whole “emptiness but no great burden” thing and I think, in part, that’s what this is about—like maybe John is thinking “we both need something to care about to fill that emptiness.”

In general though it’s an interesting thing because it’s such a risk to do what John does here. He has got to think touching Jamie’s hand will be well received or it would be very stupid to do it. This is something that, in order to survive, John would have to normally be good at doing. He would have to be good at understanding who is interested in him and who is not. Even if he’s emboldened by the fact that no one would believe Jamie, he’s still clearly upset by the reaction (he cries) and knows the consequence of losing someone he’s befriended as well as losing his go-between at the prison.

So, John says “I see” then slowly reaches out for Jamie’s hand. Jamie doesn’t pull away. John says, “I am sorry for your loss”. At this point, John’s hand is still. We see Jamie’s face for a moment and he’s still smiling. Whatever it means, I think John sees that as well as Jamie not moving. But then John’s eyes cast downward to their hands. And then (I die) because he (does the thing that kills me) rubs his thumb on Jamie’s hand and gives him that look (a look I would fight armies to have cast in my direction). It’s a question. It’s obvious, John has been here before and he’s actually certain enough in the reaction he’s going to get (and boy is the sweet snuggle bear man wrong).

This is the point where Jamie seems to start freaking out. I dinna ken lmao what Jamie is thinking up to this point. (since we don’t know i’m going to go with what I want to be happening— he was flirting with john because it was fun and safe and he likes the man and when it actually goes this way, he freaks out.) But seriously, it could run the gambit between what I just wrote, that he’s just like eww he’s being gay in my general direction, or (and very, very possibly) it’s just the reminder of Captain Randall, like a trigger. John and BlackJack technically have the same name, they’re wearing similar clothes, it happened when Jamie was Randall’s prisoner. There are a lot of things in this moment that could trigger Jamie and it really, really sucks because John has no idea and is such a good man and would never, ever hurt someone.

See… and Sam’s choice to make Jamie’s lip tremble when he says “take your hand off me”. There’s fear there. It’s not disgust or anger, truly. He’s scared, looks like he’s going to cry and my poor heart is a broken pile of garbage dirt. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE JOHN DOES CRY.

I can’t believe I wrote like 1000 words of my dumb thoughts on this scene, but seriously, it’s such a pivotal moment and so expertly played by Sam and David. There’s so much feeling and care and loss. So much yet unknown about the other, that things are misinterpreted and people get hurt and panic. and just ughhhhhhh

i need to discuss everyone’s thoughts on this scene in great detail