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savannah-lim · 4 years ago

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The Faellen || Chloe & Savannah

Timing: Current Location: The hospital Parties: @savannah-lim and @chloeinbetween Content: Discussion of abuse, illness, trauma, kidnapping Summary: Savannah pays a visit to Chloe at the hospital to discuss what happened to her and see if she can help in the investigation.

Savannah could scarcely believe it when she heard the news. She was no stranger to awful things happening in White Crest. She’d witnessed many of them with her own eyes. This was something else though. It wasn’t as simple as a quick death at the hands of a mere monster. The actions of Lydia Griffin had been calculated, deliberate, sustained. She left scars more deep than simple physical wounds. Guiltily, she was glad she had another case to look into, one more excuse to remain in White Crest while she conducted more investigations. She just really, really wished it hadn’t been this.

Nevertheless, Savannah would do her duty. Griffin might still be out there, and she had all her wealth and resources to help her disappear. If they didn’t act quickly, they might lose her for good. The receptionist at the hospital directed her to the right room. The doctors were reluctant to allow visitors, but an FBI badge did wonders to grant Savannah access to places. She knocked gently, then entered. “Chloe?” she greeted, offering whatever sort of smile she could manage, a pained and subtle one. She wanted Chloe to feel comfortable, to feel safe, but she had experience in cases like this. She knew it likely wouldn’t be an option for this poor woman for some time. “I’m Agent Lim, FBI.” She held out her badge, placing it on the hospital tray for Chloe to inspect, if she wanted. “I know it’s been a long couple of days, but I wondered if you might be able to talk to me.”

Chloe’s hands had been trembling all morning. She wasn’t really sure why, whether it was a side effect of her medical treatments or a side effect of the poison still in her system, but no matter what she did, the trembling wouldn’t stop. She’d turned on the TV news earlier, to try and catch up with what had been happening over the last four years, but the news didn’t really do recaps, as it turned out, and she was the news right now. Chloe had taken one look at the live footage from Lydia’s home, and turned off the TV with an ache in her stomach. She looked up at the door when it opened, tensing up at the sight of a stranger that wasn’t a doctor. She swallowed, her smile even weaker and more fleeting that Savannah’s. "Agent Lim," Chloe repeated slowly, picking it up off the hospital tray and reading the name on it, before setting it down on the tray before she dropped it. "I honestly wouldn't be able to tell if this is fake or not." If Savannah was using a disguise to come here and threaten her or kill her, Chloe just hoped it would be quick. She shifted in her bed, rubbing the rash that had spread up her neck yesterday morning. "I, uhh, yeah, sure. I, um, I've already talked to Detective Agatha Keen. But fire away.”

“You can call me Savannah, okay?” Savannah had enough years under her belt that she wasn’t precious about her title, especially with someone who in all likelihood needed to feel like they were talking to a friend right now, not some government official with their own motives. Savannah did have a motive. It was to see Lydia Griffin brought to justice. She hoped she and Chloe at least had that in common, but experience and a look at the case file had told her this wouldn’t be easy. “Detective Keen is good at what she does. I’ve worked with her.” If Chloe had already bonded with Agatha over being one of the first on the scene, the last thing she wanted was to make her feel like Savannah was coming in and stomping all over her. “In cases like this, it’s quite common for a larger agency to offer assistance. Do you need anything before we get started? A drink or water, some food, some tissues?”

“She’s great. She brought me chocolates. Feel free to help yourself,” Chloe said, pointing at the box of chocolates on her bednight stand, barely touched since Agatha had brought them in. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate them, it was just how little appetite she had right now, even when the alternative was hospital Jello. “I’ve already got water and tissues. Um, haven’t really been in the mood to eat. And um, you should know that there are things… there are things I can’t talk about. I’m not- I’m not protecting her, I just… I just can’t talk about it.” Because her tongue would swell up and choke her if she tried, because the thought of betraying Lydia was still impossibly painful. “Should I be nervous?”

Of course Agatha had brought chocolates. Somehow that was so… Agatha. Savannah couldn’t help but smile at that. “Well if you need anyone to help catch you up on pop culture, she’s your girl.” Savannah took a seat by the bed, pulling out her notebook and pen. She did her best not to make things personal, to get too invested in her cases, but when she found herself face to face with people like Chloe, it was impossible. “That’s okay. We’ll talk about the things you can talk about.” Chloe’s next question broke Savannah’s heart. “Nervous?” she repeated. “Of me? No. I’m going to investigate as fairly and thoroughly as I can. I know talking might be difficult, but the more we know, the better chance we have to bring Lydia to justice.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Chloe said. “All I have at the moment is daytime soaps.” She gestured at the tv in the corner of her room. She watched apprehensively as Savannah pulled out her notebook, settling into starting her case. She was kind, but then, Lydia had been kind sometimes. It was hard to trust the intentions she was given. “It’s a reasonable question,” Chloe defended herself with a wry chuckle. “I’m kinda new at the whole talking to the FBI about being held against my will thing.” That flash of personality faded as she looked away, her chest aching sharply. “This is going to sound fucked up, but… I don’t want to approach this from a justice angle. Or a doing anything to Lydia angle.” She was gone. She wasn’t coming back. But, whispered the loudest voice in her head, if she did, she wouldn’t have wanted you involved in any kind of justice against her. You can’t just betray her like this. Shouldn’t you be loyal? Then the quieter, unpoisoned part of her mind chimed in: Look what happened to Sammy when he betrayed her. “It’s easier-” Chloe started sharply, as if interrupting her own thoughts, “It’s easier if we talk about this in the context of just… telling the truth. Being honest. But, um, ask whatever you like.”

Savannah nodded solemnly. After all this time, the hold Lydia had on her would be difficult to break. She might have been out of the basement, but in so many ways, she was still held captive. That fear and anguish would be with her likely for the rest of her life, but Savannah hoped to help her quiet it. "Talking to the FBI about being held captive isn't a life experience many people go through, thankfully.” But she appreciated Chloe’s offer of honesty, her candor. She knew there were things Chloe would be too scarred to reveal, but Savannah would gather as much information as she could to bring that awful woman who’d done this to her to justice. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, it was difficult to know where to begin. “Do you know where Lydia might be now?”

“Yeah I heard it’s a hard one to get off the old bucket list.” It wasn’t funny anymore. It might not have ever been funny to begin with. Chloe looked back at Savannah, weighing the question in her mind. Without me. I wasn’t good enough. Chloe squeezed her sheets in her fist, breathing deeply. She waited. The pain had begun to dull, slowly, until she could unglue her mouth. “No,” Chloe replied, huffing in thought. “She could be anywhere. Peru, Argentina or Ireland. But probably dead. She wouldn’t leave this much evidence behind if she was alive. She’s gotten close to being caught before, I’ve heard. If this was an escape, then I wouldn’t still be here talking with you.”

"She never spoke about where she might go if she had to escape the authorities? Nothing like that?" Savannah asked, trying to be simultaneously direct, yet gentle. She wasn't sure whether she hoped Chloe was right about Lydia being dead or not. In many ways, it would be easier, but she was an agent of the law. She wasn't supposed to think like that. Savannah had been doing many things she wasn't supposed to recently. It was becoming almost easy. "I'm sorry," Savannah said, because she felt she was supposed to apologise at the thought of that awful woman killing her captives before fleeing. "That's the only reason you think she might be dead? Did you hear her mention anyone who might be out to harm her? If she's done this before, I'm sure she made enemies."

“She had that all figured out years before I showed up on her doorstep,” Chloe replied, shaking her head. She ran her fingers over the bandage on her left arm, tracing over where the bandage glue itched most. That was a much easier pain and ache to feel. “Please don’t apologise,” Chloe said eventually, picking at the threads of the bandage. “If you apologise that I might start thinking about what I should be feeling sorry about, and I really don’t want to do that. She’s been doing this for longer than you would believe. So many people knew. People who agreed and people who didn’t, so. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

"Yeah, she seems as if she was a very intelligent woman," Savannah said, her tone making it clear that in this instance, the words weren't a compliment. She scribbled down a few more words in her notebook. "Noted," she replied as Chloe told her not to apologize. "But you don't need to be sorry for anything, okay?" Savannah said directly. Chloe didn't seem the type to want to be treated with kid gloves, which was for the best, considering Savannah was far more comfortable simply being even-toned and neutral. "You say she's been doing this for a long time. Can you tell me anything about people she might have hurt before and what happened to them? If we know their names, we can at least let their families know."

“Agatha Keen found their IDs,” Chloe remembered, from when she’d been pressed up against the corner of Lydia’s office, trembling in fear as Agatha had searched the room. “Everyone Lydia has ever had. I know Sammy Metz was shot dead on September 30th, and Lydia killed Anneliese Vandergroot in like… April or May, but I think she was autopsied. Then before that, like summer of last year, a kid called Guillaume. There were more, but I don’t remember much of them.”

Of course, the names on the IDs appeared in the police file Agatha had started, but Savannah felt it was important to get the information from Chloe directly. Chloe could reveal more information than the mere names on little plastic cards could. “Do you know why she did this? What her motivation was?” Savannah asked. “Was it just so she could steal your work or was there another reason?” Besides being a fucking sicko, Savannah thought, but opted against saying out loud. Chloe didn’t need to hear it.

“Would you believe me if I said she was eating us?” Chloe chuckled bitterly, subconsciously touching her fingers against her lips. So much of her was gone. So much of her was missing. Most of her life force ripped away from her. A few years ago, Chloe hadn’t even known what that meant, but now she felt it in every muscle ache and stiff movement. No one was going to believe her. The doctors had been slowly trying to characterise all her illness, but they couldn’t work out how so much had gone sideways inside her body in those four years. Chloe winced. “Which I… also accidentally said to someone I thought was part of the paramedic team but turned out was just some rando, so now the news coverage also includes pictures from Hannibal Lecter. So. Oops.”

“I… heard something about that. We didn’t find any charred bones or cooked remains or--” Savannah narrowed her eyes in thought. She had seen so many strange things recently. The reports didn’t make sense, just like her Javier case. Lydia was in her forties, but the evidence of captives being held went back for over fifty years. “I hate that sensationalist crap,” she sighed, then immediately shook her head. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t professional.” She lowered her voice and looked around, as if trying to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard in spite of there not being anyone else in the room. “There are things in this town that don’t make sense. I don’t know how much of what happened outside that house you know about, but… if I told you the things I’d seen, you’d think I was crazy. So when I say you can tell me the truth, I really, really mean it, okay?”

Chloe did fully shudder at the mental image of Lydia slowly cutting through Sammy’s body like one would a joint of meat, cringing away from the bed in apparent discomfort. “Well, you wouldn’t have,” she agreed quietly. What point was there in telling the truth when the truth was this? But Chloe couldn’t be fucked to work out a half truth that explained it just as well. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve spent four years being held captive by an evil fairy who is so beautiful that no piece of art could ever fully capture it which is why we’re always compulsively making pieces of art as she drains away our life force, because that’s what she eats? No, I didn’t think so.”

Savannah was quiet and sombre for a moment as Chloe explained. She was grateful to be wearing a blazer, because the hair on the backs of her arms stood on end, stomach tightening itself into knots. Yes, she did believe. She’d seen them with her own eyes. Was this what would have happened to her if that beast from the mushroom ring had got her? If Deidre hadn’t stepped in, would she even have made it as long as Chloe? “I think I’ve seen something like the creature you’re describing before,” she admitted, voice low. She’d seen not just the beasts in the forest, but Regan too. Was Regan capable of something like this? Savannah couldn’t believe that. Surely if all humans were different, all fae were different too. “Did she have wings?”

Chloe had already settled into a distant state, waiting for the gentle dismissal she’d already had from the psychiatrist, the nurses, the doctor. Sometimes we make new realities to process traumatic situations, they said. Especially considering the possibility of drugs. No one, of course, could decide what drugs, but they were sure there had been some. Which wasn’t… inaccurate. Being away from Lydia was worse than any hangover or any set of withdrawal symptoms. Worse than the basement. She was jarred out of her thoughts by Savannah’s admission. “You have?” Chloe repeated in utter disbelief. “Yeah. Like a beetle. But she was like 5 foot tall, not five inches." She weighed this new information with a frown. “Are you like… the real version of the X-Files?”

Savannah narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at the description. Like a beetle. She wasn't exactly familiar with the insect world, but that tracked with what she'd seen of Regan's wings, and, from a distance, the fae that had chased her and Deidre. "Are you asking if I'm Mulder?" she asked with a small laugh. "Not exactly. My superiors don't know about the type of things that come up in my investigations. I have to make it palatable for them. But I believe you, Chloe.” She had continued making notes only for her own benefit, but the details would have to change when she typed it up, She’d have to indicate Chloe was having a reaction to her trauma and of course fairies who kidnap people aren’t real. The medical reports should have her up. It was sad how easy it was to dismiss the truth. “Do you know where you're going to go after you're discharged? Do you have somewhere to stay?"

“I don’t know, Area 51 could all actually be a fairy cover up instead of an alien conspiracy for all I know.” Chloe chuckled beside himself. “You could be here to Men In Black me with the light pen.” Wouldn’t that be nice? Just… forget the last four years had happened, wake up to a life a mystery agency had already fixed for her. Much easier than the long way around. Remembering all of it and living with it every day for however long she had left. It was terrifying, exhilarating. It was also impossible not to include Lydia in the future her mind held. “Yeah, yeah. My brother’s coming to pick me up in a few days, I’m going home with him. There’s just… well, apparently, the last four years fucked up my body. They’re monitoring some last things, because for a while I kept getting worse.”

“Hmm, nope, don’t have one of those,” Savannah said, her tone even, but a tiny smile barely touching the corners of her mouth; an attempt at comfort. “What I know about them, which is unfortunately not a lot, is that they can do things with their words. That they control you. I can’t begin to understand what happened, but I’ll try and figure out something to write in this report that.. that can make sense to them.” Funny how she didn’t really consider herself a ‘normal’ person any more. She’d seen way too much for that. “Where is home for you?” she asked.

“You should get one. I think it would make you look cooler. Not that you need much help with that,” Chloe chuckled drily, her spirit not quite in the tease. Savannah made her feel calmer than she had all week, but that really didn’t say much at all. It was a relief, not to have to lie about her experiences to someone in a position to help her, even if she had no idea what Savannah really knew. “Well, uh, good luck with that. My brother should understand, but I don’t know about the rest of my family.” One bridge at a time. When she could feel the unbridled hate of Lydia that she should, then she could think about explaining. “New Jersey. So quite a distance.”

“Of all the odd things I’ve found, the Men In Black memory wiping pen isn’t one of them, sadly.” It was good that Chloe was trying to laugh, trying to joke, trying to have some semblance of a normal conversation in spite of there being nothing normal about this. Savannah gave Chloe a small nod, reaching into her blazer pocket and pulling out a card with her contact information on it. “I hope you find peace after all this, Chloe. I’m sure we’ll speak again, but call me if you need anything, okay? Even if it’s just to talk about how bad the Game of Thrones finale was.”

#paras #with: chloe #abuse tw #trauma tw #kidnapping tw #illness tw

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goblins-riddles-or-frocks · 5 years ago

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Moffat Dracula Review

Plot Summary For People Who Don’t Want To Watch It:

Dracula corners Jonathan, Mina, and Sister Agatha Van Helsing in a secluded convent in Budapest following Jonathan’s escape from his castle. The castle sequence itself is explained in flashback as Jonathan recounts his experience, leading up to the realization that he himself had died during his stay there.

Realizing he’s now become some form of undead creature, he attempts to kill himself via a stake but is unsuccessful. Despairing at this, he invites Dracula inside the convent in exchange for a true death. Agatha and Mina are able to stay safe within a circle of sacramental bread but everyone else is massacred.

When Mina sees Dracula disguised as Jonathan approaching them, she invites him inside the circle. He of course reveals his identity immediately after. Agatha bargains her own life for Mina’s, so Dracula allows the other girl to go free.

Some time later, Dracula sets sail for England aboard the Demeter, a Russian ship with a strangely high number of wealthy passengers and a bluebeard’s cabin no one is allowed to enter. He quickly picks off the passengers one by one, meanwhile himself leading the effort to find the murderer onboard.

This culminates in the remaining passengers finally searching the ship— and the mysterious cabin which is revealed to have been hiding a sickly Sister Agatha inside. She explains that Dracula is a vampire and together with the passengers they attempt to kill him by setting him on fire. But it is unsuccessful. Agatha urges everyone to escape on lifeboats because she intends to blow up the ship with her and Dracula in it before it is able to reach England.

Dracula does not die but remains dormant under water. He reaches Whitby roughly 100 years later and is immediately captured by the Jonathan Harker foundation, lead by Agatha’s descendant Dr Zoe Van Helsing. He leaves captivity fairly quickly however with the help of Frank Renfield— a lawyer he hired over skype.

Zoe is revealed to be dying of cancer. Dracula offers her his blood to heal her but it doesn’t seem to work. It instead gives her a bond to communicate with her dead ancestor Agatha, which gives her more insight about the vampire.

Meanwhile, Dracula begins preying on Lucy Westenra, a young socialite. Despite leading a seemingly perfect life, she is wholly apathetic and disgruntled with her situation. She allows him to feed on her in exchange for the high a vampire’s bite can give her. He attempts to turn her into a vampire but she’s burned horribly once she’s cremated following her funeral.

Her death leads Zoe and Jack Seward to where Dracula has been staying. During their confrontation however Lucy returns, and after learning about her appearance, begs Jack to kill her, which he does.

Zoe asks Jack to leave so she may speak to Dracula alone. She surmises that all of Dracula’s weaknesses are actually ineffective. The only thing he fears is death, and humanity’s willingness to die, She then... resolves to sit down and die right there. But at the last moment Dracula drinks her cancerous blood which should in turn kill him... they make out while dying... The end?

If that sounds like it makes no sense, it’s because it doesn’t.

Final Thoughts:

The plot was nonsensical and the pacing was very poor and completely unstructured. The story itself bore little to no resemblance to Dracula at all, to the point where I wonder why they even bothered to keep the names.

Most of the characters were new, and the few that were ported over from the Stoker novel had hardly anything in common with their original versions, Dracula included.

Jonathan was the most in character of the bunch, if he was fairly more genre savvy while stuck in Dracula’s castle. Mina’s characterization seemed to be confined to a single flirtatious letter, an endless well of trust for Jonathan, and constant sobbing. She was more of a liability than anything else.

Agatha served the role of a genderbent Van Helsing, though her manner was entirely lifted from the Coppola film. This could’ve been very cool if they hadn’t randomly made her a nun without actually committing to it at all. She was not really portrayed as having any actual lived experience as a nun in the victorian era. And faith as a concept was only touched on for her to dismiss— hilariously casually given her position.

I think the actress’s performance was fairly decent, and she def grew on me in the second episode when she’s not actually in a convent to constantly remind us how dissonant of a nun she is. But it would’ve been nice if they would’ve either committed to actually making her a nun, (a legit vampire hunting nun could be so cool!) or just abandoning the concept altogether. Because the way it was presented just felt like window dressing.

Also I’m not normally averse to shipping Van Helsing/Dracula but having to genderbend one of the two just to do it is like... hm. Also the weird tension they had going on was very badly executed in general.

Speaking of Dracula, he had to be the weakest part of the show. He was written in the smuggest, most infuriating way possible. And it might have worked with another actor but this dude just did not have any gravitas or stage presence whatsoever. And it certainly was not helped by the fact that his costuming and makeup were so fucking lackluster.

Despite being the linchpin of the story, he had no goals nor any particular drive. He was just out there doing Stuff for Reasons and none of them were compelling. It seemed like he was just killing to kill and the writing was not good enough to actually carry any of the vague themes about how he’s looking for new brides (why?) how he’s searching for a The Perfect Fruit (what???) or anything at all really. He had no depth whatsoever beneath his stupid quips and self-satisfied demeanor.

There was an interesting implication that he needed to choose who he drinks carefully in order to maintain his own personality/sanity/sentience and that without blood he’d… apparently just become like any of the zombies we saw in the show. And that is such a cool concept! But it was not really explored, nor was it written all that well. Even though it could’ve been (and I think was maybe intended to be???) an excellent source of existential dread!

But yes, in general there was hardly any depth to this show. They played almost every possible card they could for shock value, and included many unnecessary and frankly underwhelming esoteric concepts that went nowhere. There was so much gore and random effects. We had zombies, vampire infants, and Dracula legit wearing people’s skins. The lore didn’t make any sense either, apparently people just… being unable to die despite their body’s so called death is a common occurrence? It wasn’t clear whether Dracula even had much control over who he changes and whether or not they become proper vampires. The entire thing just seemed poorly thought out.

There were a lot of easter eggs and references to previous Dracula adaptations (and even some unrelated vampire media). I definitely noticed nods to the Hammer Horror movies and the Lugosi film, which was fun. The biggest noticeable influence however would have to be the 1992 Coppola movie. I have never seen a show try so hard to be another movie lmao. They even went so far as to make a spiritual successor to the film’s main theme that’s about as close as you could probably get without actually licensing the music.

However, while the Coppola film at least had skill with regards to the costuming and cinematography to carry its aesthetic, this show simply did not. The costumes, the makeup, and the special effects were all lackluster. The set was nice enough but was not shot in a way to really leave much of an impression.

The first episode was abysmal— mainly due to Dracula’s awful performance (those disgusting fungus covered fake nails, that age makeup, that ACCENT) and the entire awkward af scene where he terrorizes a convent of nuns while naked and covered in blood. But it was at least so bad it was funny.

The second episode was the most tedious to me because it was less offensively awful so I couldn’t even enjoy the badness. There was definitely a sharp uptick of quality whenever Dracula was offscreen for any notable amount of time though. The passengers were rather boring but I liked the crewmen. And Agatha honestly killed it for the latter half.

The last episode was by far the worst and yet the most entertaining because they just stopped trying at that point.

Renfield was amazing and an absolute delight every time he was on screen. Dracula found him over skype for God’s sake, how can that not be fantastic? He actually utters the words “Dracula has rights,” and his argument somehow actually fucking works.

And even Dracula himself was far less insufferable with the shift in dynamics. By being forced to cope with the modern world, he could no longer act like such a smarmy, self-assured know it all. Seeing him freak the fuck out at the sight of helicopters was genuinely fun.

Lucy’s handling was misogynistic af though. It was bafflingly, needlessly awful. And the way she was vilified at the very end was appalling. They almost had an interesting deconstruction wrt her utter malaise for her life, and the implication that she actually resents her beauty. But then of course she gets burned alive, and then is treated horribly for it by the protagonists.

Even though it’s clear she has no idea what’s happened to her body, Zoe doesn’t even bother to explain it to her. She just makes her take a selfie of all things so she can see what she really looks like. It didn’t seem like the show had a shred of sympathy for her, because “oh, clearly she was a narcissistic bitch and she deserved what she got” or something like that??

The utter indifference everyone has to her death is baffling. It was an afterthought, that seemed like its only purpose for existing was yet again just shock value. The scene, after her death, immediately shifting the focus back to whatever weird personal rivalry that borders on sexual tension Agatha/Zoe and Dracula have going on.

But all in all, this adaptation had me baffled, frustrated, and cringing through most of it. It was unintentionally funny quite often and I honestly enjoyed it, but for all the wrong reasons. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to melt their fucking brain.

#netflix dracula #netflix dracula spoilers #moffat dracula #bbc dracula #long post #I ramble sometimes #tldr: it was BAD #all the salt #this is 1800 words #*writer’s cap*

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thebeautyofdisorder · 5 years ago

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The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but chapter 4 is here! I really hope you like it. Whether i will leave it here (for now) or add on anymore immediately I’m not sure of, but I suppose we will see. Please let me know what you think!

First two Chapters Here

Chapter 3 Is Here

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE -

Rating: T, for blood and maybe language

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapter 4

He'd felt her before he heard her, despite her best attempt at startling him, her form partially blocking out the beam of light projecting from the door he hadn't cared to close. It took more self-control than the Count would ever willingly admit to remain facing away from the source of the voice, if for no other reason than to keep his confusion as close to the vest as possible. He refused to be at a disadvantage again, with her more than anyone.

“Apparently we’ve both underestimated our own resilience,” he remarked, with faint amusement calling back to his comment from the last time they’d met, though he couldn’t rightly include the ‘vampire’ designation. She didn’t feel like a vampire, and yet she was certainly not the sick woman who he’d left for dead.

“So it would seem,” Zoe agreed, taking a few steps inside despite the agitation she’d felt from a distance ramping up to a fever pitch now that she was actually in his presence. It wasn’t fear – he wasn’t likely to be any danger to her in her current state, not anymore. She was simply hyper-aware of Dracula, and it was causing a strange disconnect between her mind and her body. At least she’d assumed he was the cause of it, but now as she found herself approaching him for closer study, without any inherent want on her part, she wasn’t so sure he alone was to blame.

“Indestructible after all.”

“Yes, I’m afraid Death has turned out to be completely immune to my allure,” the vampire drawled in a good imitation of indifference, finally turning about to meet her approach, head tilting as he took her in with careful consideration.

“What?” She felt herself ask, feeling the weight of his focus drag on a moment too long for her liking.

Dracula ignored her question, approaching closer until she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze, an act she wasn’t accustomed to having to enact that often in her daily life. His hand lifted, brushing her hair off her neck to study the state of his bite. The wound was raised and slightly jagged, but shown white against her skin - evidence of rapid healing, yet no inflammation or scabbing.

A clear sign of life – real life, in a woman he had murdered a week ago. A wry chuckle reverberated through his chest, previously so still that she could feel it like a distant earthquake.

“Of course it would be you.”

One sharp nail grazed the pierced flesh, and she stood rigid against the tremor that bloomed over her skin until his hand dropped, and his gaze flipped rapidly from probing to analytical.

“Why though? Five centuries I’ve been trying to procreate, and it was rare enough I even got within the realm of close. Most recent attempt notwithstanding, perhaps Johnny, but he threw himself off a bloody cliff, and well – he didn’t exactly look very alive towards the end, did he?” he blurted with a scoff, the cogs of his mind whirring as he began to pace in front of the window. They were almost audible, tripping over the obvious until someone couldn’t resist the urge to prod the bear any longer.

“You haven’t figured it out yet? Honestly, Count, maybe you should’ve eaten more doctors.”

Dracula’s eyes narrowed, catching the muted edge of Dutch hostility he had grown to know far too well over the last century, infuriation and amusement blending imperceptibly on his face. His lips parted, intent on snapping back, but just as quickly he stopped, shut his mouth and took a moment to think. Out of spite, of course.

Then it clicked.

The count let out a loud guffaw of frustrated laughter, slapping his large hands down on the table with so much force Agatha was surprised it didn’t split down the middle. It was the least collected she had ever seen him outside of a blood frenzy, and it was at first difficult to tell if he were furious or enthused.

“Of course. My blood. Of course,” he announced, grinning widely to himself, before spinning and turning upon the woman before him, grabbing her by the shoulders, uncaring if she shared in his jubilation or not.

“What was it, Agatha, you told Johnny all those years ago? There was a pathogen that was passed from one to another, yes? Oh, you are brilliant. And heaven’s sake, I am an idiot at times, aren’t I?” he mock-sighed, lauding perhaps a little less than an ounce of authenticity to his self-deprecation.

“At times?” She snarked back, despite Zoe’s otherwise well intended vow to not indulge him, leaning back in reluctance to his grip.

His eyes rolled skyward, tilting his head to look down at her in disappointment, retaining her in his grasp. “Always one to ruin a party.”

“Only if it’s yours.”

A pointy-toothed grin slowly overcame his face. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he shot back, in what could have almost passed for warmth.

With a brief, forced groan of disgust, Zoe decided it was paramount to take back control of this particular reunion with some sense of urgency before it got off the rails any further. Nudging her shoulders out of his grasp, which he surprisingly didn’t protest, she paced back and looked out the window, “You know I can’t just let you go infect the world with unquenchable bloodlust, Count Dracula.”

“Oh?” He inquired with a small hum of surprise, stuffing his hands as far into his pockets as they would fit. “You don’t look so unquenchable to me…” His tone was mocking, but his eyes shown dark with curiosity.

“That’s because I’m not like you.”

He looked even more amused. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Have you been around fresh blood?”

She didn’t respond, but from her stubborn silence he already knew the answer.

“Have you been eating? Sleeping?”

“Some,” Zoe protested, turning back to face him with renewed confidence. “More often than not I’ve been working.”

Dracula looked mildly alarmed at the insinuation, but not for any reason pertaining to himself. “Don’t tell me you went back to that institute? Oh, Zoe. Surely you know that can never end well?”

“You yourself said science is the future, and I very much agree. Which is why I’m going to do everything in power to make sure that I never have to take anyone’s life,” she continued, powering through his protest like the useless distraction it was. She didn’t for a moment think he had any real concern for her well being, vampire or not.

“By starving yourself until some unfortunate intern gets an ill-timed paper cut? Dr. Helsing, they’ll lock you up and throw away the key. Believe me. I know.”

“I’m not starving myself. The reason you can’t process solid food is because all of your organs stopped functioning centuries ago, I am going to do what I can to make sure that doesn’t happen to me. Plus, there are other ways to intake the nutrients within blood that are necessary to live without using someone else’s veins to do it,” she protested, holding her head high in protest.

His brows wagged, her stubbornness coming as no shock, despite the unfortunate nature of it. If the rest of the Van Helsing bloodline were half as persistent as just one of these women’s weakest moments, he hated to know what the family dinners were like.

“Fine. Fair enough. If you’re so determined to try that approach I can’t stop you. But don’t expect me to join you.”

Her smile was triumphant, but minimal. “Oh I don’t. So long as you don’t expect me to let you murder your way through the British Isles uninhibited.”

His smile mirrored hers, and despite knowing there was nothing (he was currently aware of) that she could use to stand in his way, his eyes held a darker edge of challenge and his voice was a ragged, conspiratorial whisper. “On the contrary. I would be highly disappointed if you did.”

She quirked a brow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like it when things don’t go your way.”

The vampire shrugged, approaching her once more. “Call it an existential crisis. On the other hand…” He placed one longer finger under her chin and with light pressure, urged it up so that she was meeting his eyes more directly. “All my best brides are the defiant ones.”

A mocking scoff erupted from her throat, and after a short, internal scuffle it was, at least in part, Agatha’s words that countered him. “I am not your bride, Count. In fact none of them ever were – you don’t keep ‘brides’ in boxes and feed them garden pests. Those were lab rats. A bride is someone you actually have to ‘live’ with – if you’ll excuse the colloquialism.” She gently jerked her jaw out of his grasp.

“Good thing we have forever, then.” He gave her another brief crooked smile and began to walk past her entirely towards the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m starving. I trust you can find your way out – unless you’d like to join me?”

“I’ll pass,” Zoe insisted, blinking out of the strange daze of his presence and Agatha’s intrusion with an annoyed set to her shoulders, looking after him with a look of warning. “I’ll be seeing you.”

He paused, glancing back one last time from the hall.

“Looking forward to it.”

---

Thank you everyone who’s been following it, I hope I paid off that cliffhanger while still being a tease. I hope the Agatha/Zoe conundrum doesn’t come off entirely too confusing, though it is meant to be confusing to her as well. Poor Zoe. Join the OT3 or put up with our incessant fuckery Also, I wrote this at work yesterday, so this post is funded by the US government ;)

@my-fanfic-library @ohveda @imagineandimagine @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @punk-courtesan @vampiregirl1797 @gleefullyselfishreblogs @break-free-killer-queen @desperatefrenchwriter @bellamortislife @charlesdances @iloveclaesbang @carydorse @ss9slb @dreamerkim @isayhourwrong

I’ll add anyone else who asks!

#bbc dracula #dracula bbc #dracula #dracula 2020 #agatha van helsing #zoe van helsing #dracula fic #claes bang #my writing #the undone & the divine

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thisgirlhastales · 5 years ago

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Simon and Baz Carrying On, like Wayward Sons ...

I’m here to write more about Wayward Son because @apostrophe-philosophy got me thinking with the wonderful additions made to my first lengthy post about it :)

Honestly, I’m loving the book more upon reflection, though I still have my same issues with it. I think the initial shock of the cliff-hanger had to die down for me (though, again, still have some things that irked me about said cliff-hanger). I’ve got more ranting to do, so, ah, here we go again, and warnings for spoilers beneath the cut!

Apologies for any repetition but this is mostly a ramble with less organization than my previous semi-essay post, and a little more in-depth on the characters, I think.

Carry On, as @apostrophe-philosophy stated so wonderfully, is a book that shook up all those tropes we know and love (when they’re executed well) of the Chosen One narrative, and I was so very pleased that Wayward Son kept that going — in fact, were Carry On the typical Chosen One type story, we would never have gotten a sequel because all’s well that ends well, right? (See: HP Epilogue).

But Wayward Son didn’t feel like a sequel to me, so much as … letting the cameras roll after the movie is over? (Er, assuming the characters are real people, so forgive my crap analogy.) We see how very broken these people are despite (or because of) their victory. We see that there are years of healing ahead of them, assuming they can even come to terms with all the things they’ve done and seen. It’s very much a life goes on and on story; as in, life doesn’t stop after a narrative goal or milestone are achieved. It just goes. On. Without needing permission. It is relentless.

And it doesn’t care if you can’t keep up.

Which is what I believe is happening to Simon, Baz, and Penny (and Agatha, to an extent, though she really feels like she has her shit together way more than the others do, and who’d a thunk?).

Simon Snow, Former Chosen One, Saviour of Watford and Conqueror (?) of the Insidious Humdrum, Now Retired and Mage-Less

Ooof, let’s start with the guy whom the series is named after, because oh Simon. My dude, your problems are as vast and deep as an ocean, and I feel like you never really learned how to swim properly ‘cause your mentor/father-figure (who was your actual father, and won’t that be an agonizing reveal?) really messed you up by nearly drowning you repeatedly. Metaphorically. Or literally?

Simon Snow was neglected in many ways as an orphan child growing up, moved around and ignored, until he met the Mage. Then he gets a huge destiny shoved upon him, and he’s taught how to fight with a sword and with magic, although, ah, the latter he really sucks at because for all his immense power, he lacks control. Many, many near-death experiences later, and he’s finally hit a point where everything he came to know as his reality crumbles beneath him because the Big Evil he’s fighting is a piece of himself (nice bit of trope subversion), and he has to figure out what the hell to do with it … Oh, right, fill in that hole and give up all his magic, the thing that saved him. And incidentally, the way this happens is that he witnesses the death of one of his closest friends/older mentor figures, and the Mage is the one who did it. Furthermore, the Mage refuses to accept reality, i.e. that Simon needs to give up the power, not give it to someone else (him). Penny and Simon inadvertently kill him … And it hurts me when, after Simon begs Stop hurting me! as a magic spell, that Penny has to tell Simon that the reason the Mage died is because the magic dealt the final judgement — the only way the Mage would be able to stop hurting Simon is if he were dead.

Simon is gonna have to contemplate that crap for a while … But we don’t see too much of it in Wayward Son because Simon is a disaster (but “still so lovely” as Baz says) who won’t think too hard about why he’s such a disaster — he’ll just torment himself over it, and thus break all our hearts (and Baz’s) …

As @apostrophe-philosophy delightfully stated, what seems like a happy ending “can very well feel empty when your mental state is in fucking shambles.” And, yeah. I think Simon’s lost magic and resulting lack of direction in life are part of why he’s so depressed and feeling “worthless” now (although, he is not worthless). The other reasons are all the myriad ways in which his childhood did not prepare him for life, and in fact, damaged him in several ways (thanks for nothing, Mage). It’s all hitting at once. I’m sorry, Simon.

What we do see in Wayward Son is that he still reflects on the Mage somewhat fondly. He can never forget everything he was taught, particularly when he still uses it to keep himself and his friends alive. He switches back into soldier mode so easily (Baz notices, realizes what Simon’s life must have been like while the Mage had him under his thumb). Simon in the United States is a Simon who plunges headfirst into adventure and the unexpected and the good fight, but not into anything that involves speaking to Baz and/or Penny. Good grief, please, Simon.

I was okay with other aspects of his journey being hinted at — curious and excited to see how it all plays out. @apostrophe-philosophy, you mentioned that water spirit recognizing him? So interested to see where that goes! The fact that Simon impacted magic all the way around the world? Does this mean he touched every corner of the globe with his explosions? With the Insidious Humdrum? How many more creatures know of him? Is he kinda part dragon now? He “gave back more” than he took? What? How? What?!

All of that is left for another book, and I’m cool with that. Less cool with other things being left hanging …

Simon is loved so profoundly by Baz and Penny, but that alone cannot fix him — it can keep him afloat at times, but those underlying issues are not going away because he has an awesome boyfriend and best friend. It is so damn gratifying to read a magical adventure tale that actually acknowledges this. I don’t mind my fluff when I can get it, but Carry On wasn’t about that life, and it would’ve felt disingenuous if Wayward Son was … but it wasn’t, so yes.

I agree with you, @apostrophe-philosophy, when you say that Wayward Son feels more mature. It’s not just that these characters are now “growing up” and trying to figure themselves out — it’s that they’re all such huge damn messes (love it), and that they’re mad at themselves (and sometimes each other) for not having their shit together. Mostly they’re angry at themselves and despairing of each other. And if that ain’t adult life, y’all … Geez.

“Yes, Carry On was full of life and magic. Wayward Son is, in the words of the humdrum, what’s left when you are done.” Well said, honey!

Ah, there are so many ways that Simon broke me — when he talks about how easy it is to kiss Baz, but being kissed “suffocates” him? It felt like he couldn’t stand the loss of control again — it’s allowing something to happen to you, it’s revealing in ways you can’t control, which is the story of his entire life. When he and Baz are kissing in the aftermath of battle, when Simon feels the most like himself, when he doesn’t care and he’s just overjoyed to be awesome and alive and with Baz — he’s all over his boyfriend and loving both sides of that intimacy (that he initiates). But when that isn’t the case, when he’s back in that negative headspace, back to depression and anxiety and all the consequences that the Mage wrought … He needs control, and kissing is easier than being kissed. Easier than allowing yet another thing happen to him, being vulnerable and seen in his vulernability, particularly with Baz, who knows him and can see past his defences.

(The great irony, of course, is that Baz actually can’t see what’s going on with Simon. It’s entirely in Simon’s head, holy crap, boys, fucking talk to each other.)

That part where Penny thinks about Simon: “I don’t really care if you feel crazy—because crazy isn’t dead.” That part where Simon has to compromise his Mage-taught morals to fight with vampires against other vampires and he has to keep rationalizing why being in love with Baz is okay, and the proper ways to rescue people because that’s all he did as a child soldier in the Mage’s army, and as Baz has said about the Mage — may he rest in pain for so thoroughly fucking with Simon’s head when he was a child and in awe of him and just … gah. Fuck you, Davy.

Simon being ready to die, to live to the last second as the saviour because that’s all he thinks he’s good for — taking one more enemy down for his friends, for Baz … Damn it, Simon. I know he sucks at words, he’s admitted as much himself, but wow, any words would do, Simon. Any.

I live for aftermath, and watching Simon (not) deal is giving me all the feels. He really believes he’s less now that his purpose is fulfilled since he has no magic. And since he has/is less, he feels he should “set Baz free” and all that. He only feels like himself when he’s being a sword-fighting badass, rescuing people, being a soldier (again, fuck you, Davy) — and yeah, he is very skilled, even incredible at that, but that’s not why Baz and Penny love him. Simon, oh Simon. If you would just open your mouth and start talking about all of this, the world of good it would do you …

But, hey, you know who else stressed me out?

Tyrannus Basilton “Baz” Grimm Pitch, Fail Vampire (Except When Kicking Ass), Powerful Pitch Sorcerer, General Posh Representative of UK Mages

Baz, my crappy vampire, my brilliant pyro-mage. You need help as badly as your boyfriend does. Baz’s arc kills me in a different way than Simon’s — everything Simon is dealing with is somewhat expected, and I understand it well. I get what his issues are, and the ways he is (but more often, isn’t, so very much is not) coping with them (and definitely not actually healing from them).

Baz? Oooh man. There were the things I expected — being on the outside, watching Simon slowly go to pieces, feeling completely helpless and lost, not knowing what Simon wants or needs, and that includes whether Simon wants or needs him anymore …

And yes, dealing with striking out on his own, in defiance of his family and all other magical society expectations, which puts him on a rather solitary path (apart from the world he knew — at least he has Simon and Penny, Messes Though They Are).

But the other aspects of himself — as in, his vampire nature and how that plays on his mind? He was suicidal in Carry On because he believed that’s what his mother would have wanted, that the vampires in the UK were so low and beneath him, and he was a Pitch, so how could those pathetic creatures like Nicodemus also be him? I was hoping we would get into all of that that here … and man. Oh man.

How devastating was it to find out that Baz is actually physically unhealthy because he doesn’t feed properly? Because he had no one to teach him how to eat without killing or turning someone? How to eat non-blood food without his fangs showing? When Lamb didn’t quite believe that Baz was twenty, like, legit, he’s twenty, he’s a baby vampire … How small is the world of mages back in the UK? Baz wasn’t even allowed access to the Internet. Good grief, this guy is smart as a whip, but he knows almost nothing and it shows, but it wasn’t until he met the American vampires that it felt painful. I just want him to learn all the things. Simon wants that for him (albeit for reasons that amount to you’re better off without me), and it’s just … Give Baz some true vampire knowledge. Let him feed without killing or turning. Please, cut this boy some slack.

My heart broke to see all the ways Baz was just … missing vital parts of himself. It was killing me to watch him hungrily take in everything Lamb was telling him … He needs something or someone to inform him (who isn’t a raging douchebag like Lamb). There must be some half-decent vampire somewhere who can help. I feel like we’re in for a conflict with his Aunt Fiona, since she’s been vampire hunting this entire while … So, you know, more pain on the way.

I’m sure I’m not the first to say this, but I truly believe we have hints that Baz is more than just vampire or mage. The fact that he aged from when he was bitten, the fact that he can use magic (Nicodemus couldn’t, and we have it confirmed that vampires can’t) … Pretty sure there’s something going on there. He’s a hybrid? He’s a new species entirely? He’s something that NewBlood wants so badly, but they can’t get because it can’t be recreated in a lab?

Baz needs his own long, long period of coming to terms, and then doing something about all those things boiling beneath his skin, because, my dude, you are more than you realize, and that’s not just the vampire stuff I’m referring to, Baz. More than his family’s expectations. More than his magical world. More than Simon’s boyfriend.

Penelope Bunce also gave me feels — “I was never invincible. I was just in the vicinity.” Again, @apostrophe-philosophy, you nailed the issues surrounding her so well: “But Penelope A-Plan-And-Backup-For-Everything Bunce? Hitting the literal end of her rope? Letting us see that she’s perhaps the biggest fraud, who doesn’t know how to fake it till she makes it once her belief in her own abilities has started to waver, because she had never known failure before and is now confronted by it on so many fronts?” Much like you, I am totally on board for her coming into her own, learning from her failures and becoming that much capable and hopefully healthier as a result.

And Agatha Wellbelove, oh, Agatha, realizing that she is magic. That she can’t run from herself, but she can learn — I loved every cynical bit of her in this, but she still had the capacity to realize that she could do something, and she did something, and it was awe-inspiring. It was coated in regret, in self-flagellation of the highest order, and every belief that it would all end in flames, but she did it. Bless her for becoming the saviour of that day.

So we Carry On, Wayward Sons, But There’s No Sign of Peace Yet For When You’re Done?

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: I still feel like the lack of partial resolution to any of the emotional/psychological arcs drives me up the wall.

That being said, upon re-reading a few of my favourite passages/chapters, and re-reading the last quarter of the book … I will say that there’s a touch more resolution than I realized. Particularly for Simon

“It’s time for me to stop pretending that I’m some sort of superhero. I was that—I really was—but I’m not anymore. I don’t belong in the same world as sorcerers and vampires. That’s not my story … I think I’d rather get a job. Earn something for myself. Pay my own rent. It feels good to think about. It feels like—shit, I’m crying. It feels awful, but it feels clean.”

There’s a mess in that realization as well, but there’s also some clarity. No, Simon is not a superhero — nice, good! Also, he can belong with vampires and sorcerers, maybe, (Shepard is proof), but he doesn’t need to be the be-all-end-all hero/soldier of everyone around him, so there’s that realization at least.

But then it gets cut off shortly after (like, a couple of pages), so … I’m sighing big time here.

Baz gets even more heaped onto his shoulders. But I feel like for all he knows that he’s lacking significant knowledge on half of his identity, i.e. being a vampire, he knows that he doesn’t want to be either like NewBlood or like Lamb’s people. So. There’s that.

Penny gets brought low at the start and is … pretty much still there by the end, though saving Agatha is a plus one in her healing column, maybe? But everything else is just … there. It’s a shorter book — there was room to have one or two conversations? About one or two of these many issues? I’m not even saying those conversations had to go well — but at least informing the characters on a few of the problems that we, as the reader, can so clearly see? The plot was interesting, but sometimes it did feel a bit like a contrivance to keep the emotional arcs in suspension. Because they spent so many days on the road together, nights in motels, they were basically almost never apart for a significant amount of time and not once, until the end, did they try to talk out their shit in a real way.

Again, l love this book. I love so many things. I’m cool with cliff-hangers. But I feel like I needed at least partial resolution on a couple of things — a cliff-hanger after we got Simon acknowledging some parts of his issues and speaking them out loud to Baz? Or vice versa? Because they would be able to see each other’s problems more clearly — the misunderstandings might have continued, but along a different vein? Because, the thing is, acknowledging the problems is a thing, yes, but the healing from them part is the bigger, longer, more painful thing, and I feel like it’s just … so much to cover, and I would’ve liked a better grip on that healing process before the next book?

The third book may endear this second book to me further, but as of right now, it doesn’t quite stand alone for me. It feels a tad unfinished. Again, love so many moments in here, love the characters, including our new disaster friend, Shepard, but the book just feels like it cuts off far too abruptly.

But, to quote again from @apostrophe-philosophy: “I really just want a cast of characters who have actual fucking problems they can’t fix with love and friendship alone and to watch them get what they deserve by claiming it of their own accord. Not because it falls into their hands.”

I want that too, so badly. And I think we’re getting it — we definitely got a piece of that, a solid beginning of that in Wayward Son, and I am so, so hoping we get even more (way, way more) in the next book! (Books?)

Whew. And that is where I am stopping! That might be the end of my meta rope for this novel. Man, I love this book, and if anyone made it through this massive post, you’re amazing. Again, many thanks to @apostrophe-philosophy for adding onto to my previous essay with a beautiful and beautifully worded series of thoughts! *hugs* :)

#wayward son #wayward son spoilers #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #penelope bunce #agatha wellbelove #carry on #rainbow rowell #rants and ramblings

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coffeebased · 6 years ago

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It’s been a whole year since I posted last. Part of me wants to apologise for being gone so long, but mostly I’m just glad that I’m here.

Instead of doing a GIANT 2018 READING POST, I’m going to chop it up into three posts:

Favourite Books Read in 2018

2018 Reading Data and Goal-setting for 2019

2013-2018 Reading Data Trends

I was going to do a bigass one like I usually do but it just felt so daunting. Probably because I read 256 books in 2018 and it was pretty tempting to just close that Excel sheet and move on to an empty one for 2019. But what is the point of an unexamined life, anyway?

So this post is basically a listicle with summaries grabbed from Goodreads, as well as the complete list of the books I read in 2018. I really enjoyed all these books immensely and they’re all in my personal canon now.

My Top 10 Reads for 2018:

The Odyssey by Homer, translated by Emily Wilson

The first great adventure story in the Western canon, The Odyssey is a poem about violence and the aftermath of war; about wealth, poverty, and power; about marriage and family; about travelers, hospitality, and the yearning for home.In this fresh, authoritative version—the first English translation of The Odyssey by a woman—this stirring tale of shipwrecks, monsters, and magic comes alive in an entirely new way. Written in iambic pentameter verse and a vivid, contemporary idiom, this engrossing translation matches the number of lines in the Greek original, thus striding at Homer’s sprightly pace and singing with a voice that echoes Homer’s music.

Circe by Madeline Miller

In the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child—not powerful, like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power—the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves.Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur, Daedalus and his doomed son Icarus, the murderous Medea, and, of course, wily Odysseus.But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from, or the mortals she has come to love.

3. The World of the Five Gods by Lois McMaster Bujold

A man broken in body and spirit, Cazaril, has returned to the noble household he once served as page, and is named, to his great surprise, as the secretary-tutor to the beautiful, strong-willed sister of the impetuous boy who is next in line to rule.

It is an assignment Cazaril dreads, for it will ultimately lead him to the place he fears most, the royal court of Cardegoss, where the powerful enemies, who once placed him in chains, now occupy lofty positions. In addition to the traitorous intrigues of villains, Cazaril and the Royesse Iselle, are faced with a sinister curse that hangs like a sword over the entire blighted House of Chalion and all who stand in their circle. Only by employing the darkest, most forbidden of magics, can Cazaril hope to protect his royal charge—an act that will mark the loyal, damaged servant as a tool of the miraculous, and trap him, flesh and soul, in a maze of demonic paradox, damnation, and death

4. Noli Me Tangere by Jose Rizal, Translated by Harold Augenbraum

In more than a century since its appearance, José Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere has become widely known as the great novel of the Philippines. A passionate love story set against the ugly political backdrop of repression, torture, and murder, “The Noli,” as it is called in the Philippines, was the first major artistic manifestation of Asian resistance to European colonialism, and Rizal became a guiding conscience—and martyr—for the revolution that would subsequently rise up in the Spanish province.

5. America is Not The Heart by Elaine Castillo

Three generations of women from one immigrant family trying to reconcile the home they left behind with the life they’re building in America.

How many lives can one person lead in a single lifetime? When Hero de Vera arrives in America, disowned by her parents in the Philippines, she’s already on her third. Her uncle, Pol, who has offered her a fresh start and a place to stay in the Bay Area, knows not to ask about her past. And his younger wife, Paz, has learned enough about the might and secrecy of the De Vera family to keep her head down. Only their daughter Roni asks Hero why her hands seem to constantly ache.

Illuminating the violent political history of the Philippines in the 1980s and 1990s and the insular immigrant communities that spring up in the suburban United States with an uncanny ear for the unspoken intimacies and pain that get buried by the duties of everyday life and family ritual, Castillo delivers a powerful, increasingly relevant novel about the promise of the American dream and the unshakable power of the past. In a voice as immediate and startling as those of Junot Diaz and NoViolet Bulawayo, America Is Not the Heart is a sprawling, soulful telenovela of a debut novel. With exuberance, muscularity, and tenderness, here is a family saga; an origin story; a romance; a narrative of two nations and the people who leave home to grasp at another, sometimes turning back.

6. The Feather Thief: Beauty, Obsession, and the Natural History Heist of the Century by Kirk W. Johnson

A rollicking true-crime adventure and a thought-provoking exploration of the human drive to possess natural beauty for readers of The Stranger in the Woods, The Lost City of Z, and The Orchid Thief.

On a cool June evening in 2009, after performing a concert at London’s Royal Academy of Music, twenty-year-old American flautist Edwin Rist boarded a train for a suburban outpost of the British Museum of Natural History. Home to one of the largest ornithological collections in the world, the Tring museum was full of rare bird specimens whose gorgeous feathers were worth staggering amounts of money to the men who shared Edwin’s obsession: the Victorian art of salmon fly-tying. Once inside the museum, the champion fly-tier grabbed hundreds of bird skins–some collected 150 years earlier by a contemporary of Darwin’s, Alfred Russel Wallace, who’d risked everything to gather them–and escaped into the darkness.

Two years later, Kirk Wallace Johnson was waist high in a river in northern New Mexico when his fly-fishing guide told him about the heist. He was soon consumed by the strange case of the feather thief. What would possess a person to steal dead birds? Had Edwin paid the price for his crime? What became of the missing skins? In his search for answers, Johnson was catapulted into a years-long, worldwide investigation. The gripping story of a bizarre and shocking crime, and one man’s relentless pursuit of justice, The Feather Thief is also a fascinating exploration of obsession, and man’s destructive instinct to harvest the beauty of nature.

7. Educated: A Memoir by Tara Westover

An unforgettable memoir in the tradition of The Glass Castle about a young girl who, kept out of school, leaves her survivalist family and goes on to earn a PhD from Cambridge University

Tara Westover was 17 the first time she set foot in a classroom. Born to survivalists in the mountains of Idaho, she prepared for the end of the world by stockpiling home-canned peaches and sleeping with her “head-for-the-hills bag”. In the summer she stewed herbs for her mother, a midwife and healer, and in the winter she salvaged in her father’s junkyard.

Her father forbade hospitals, so Tara never saw a doctor or nurse. Gashes and concussions, even burns from explosions, were all treated at home with herbalism. The family was so isolated from mainstream society that there was no one to ensure the children received an education and no one to intervene when one of Tara’s older brothers became violent.

Then, lacking any formal education, Tara began to educate herself. She taught herself enough mathematics and grammar to be admitted to Brigham Young University, where she studied history, learning for the first time about important world events like the Holocaust and the civil rights movement. Her quest for knowledge transformed her, taking her over oceans and across continents, to Harvard and to Cambridge. Only then would she wonder if she’d traveled too far, if there was still a way home.

Educated is an account of the struggle for self-invention. It is a tale of fierce family loyalty and of the grief that comes with severing the closest of ties. With the acute insight that distinguishes all great writers, Westover has crafted a universal coming-of-age story that gets to the heart of what an education is and what it offers: the perspective to see one’s life through new eyes and the will to change it.

8. The Wicked + The Divine, Vol. 7 and 8 by Kieron Gillen, Stephanie Hans, André Lima Araújo, Matt Wilson, Kris Anka, Jen Bartel

In the past: awful stuff. In the present: awful stuff. But, increasingly, answers.

Modernist poets trapped in an Agatha Christie Murder Mystery. The Romantics gathering in Lake Geneva to resurrect the dead. What really happened during the fall of Rome. The Lucifer who was a nun, hearing Ananke’s Black Death confession. As we approach the end, we start to see the full picture. Also includes the delights of the WicDiv Christmas Annual and the Comedy special.

9. Mister Miracle by Tom King and Mitch Gerads

Mister Miracle is magical, dark, intimate and unlike anything you’ve read before.

Scott Free is the greatest escape artist who ever lived. So great, he escaped Granny Goodness’ gruesome orphanage and the dangers of Apokolips to travel across galaxies and set up a new life on Earth with his wife, Big Barda. Using the stage alter ego of Mister Miracle, he has made quite a career for himself showing off his acrobatic escape techniques. He even caught the attention of the Justice League, who has counted him among its ranks.

You might say Scott Free has everything–so why isn’t it enough? Mister Miracle has mastered every illusion, achieved every stunt, pulled off every trick–except one. He has never escaped death. Is it even possible? Our hero is going to have to kill himself if he wants to find out.

10. The Band, #1–2

Clay Cooper and his band were once the best of the best — the meanest, dirtiest, most feared crew of mercenaries this side of the Heartwyld.

Their glory days long past, the mercs have grown apart and grown old, fat, drunk – or a combination of the three. Then an ex-bandmate turns up at Clay’s door with a plea for help. His daughter Rose is trapped in a city besieged by an enemy one hundred thousand strong and hungry for blood. Rescuing Rose is the kind of mission that only the very brave or the very stupid would sign up for.

It’s time to get the band back together for one last tour across the Wyld.

PHEW. Did you guys read any of those books? Did you like them? Hit me up!

The books I read in 2018:

Okay, thank you for reading. Keep a weather eye out for the next post, hopefully very soon.

My Ten Favourite Books from 2018 It's been a whole year since I posted last. Part of me wants to apologise for being gone so long, but mostly I'm just glad that I'm here.

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kanste · 8 years ago

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My Life in Books - Index

I never thought I would made an index post, but Tumblr made me do it.

After adding - or rather trying to - The Autobiography of a Flea to my "My life in books" site I noticed that it won't let me link the post. So I tried older links, some work and some didn't. I tried it a few times more without success. So I follow @whopooh 's example and made an index post.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie A widow’s sudden suicide sparks rumors that she murdered her first husband, was being blackmailed, and was carrying on a secret affair with the wealthy Roger Ackroyd. Who was murdered the following evening, in his locked study-but not before receiving a letter identifying the widow’s blackmailer. Fortunately, the famous detective Hercule Poirot has just moved into town and agrees to take on the case, even though he has already decided to retire from detective work. Wo geht’s denn hier zum Glück by Maike van den Boom Maike van den Boom, the author of this book wants to find out why people in other countries are happier than we Germans. Whose Body? by Dorothy Sayers London in the roaring twenties. One morning the stuffy Mr. Thipps comes into his bathroom only to find a dead man in his bathtub. There is no indication how the corpse has ended in the bathtub as the door lock is still intact. Was the stranger still alive when entering the bathroom, why is he now dead? Or was he already dead? How has he then came into the bathroom. Here comes Lord Peter Wimsey into play. He loves to solve criminal cases. Together with is Butler Mr. Bunter and his good friend Charles Parker (Scotland Yard) he tries to solve this riddle. Even though Charles Parker has his own case to solve, what happened to the missing Reuben Levy. In the end two cases has been solved. And then there where none by Agatha Christie. Ten men and women, with very different backgrounds receive an invitation which brings them to an isolated island. On the island, an invisible host accuses them of an array of hushed up felonies and announces their deaths. One guest after the other met his/her fate, while the declining group of survivors is trying to find the murderer and stop him/her The girl on the train by Paula Hawkins Rachel catches the same commuter train every morning. She knows it will wait at the same signal each time, overlooking a row of back gardens. She’s even started to feel like she knows the people who live in one of the houses. ‘Jess and Jason’, she calls them. Their life - as she sees it - is perfect. If only Rachel could be that happy. And then she sees something shocking. It’s only a minute until the train moves on, but it’s enough. Now everything’s changed. Now Rachel has a chance to become a part of the lives she’s only watched from afar. Now they’ll see; she’s much more than just the girl on the train The Last Four Days of Paddy Buckley by Jeremy Massey One night in Dublin, insomniac widower Paddy Buckley knocks someone over in his car. Closer investigation reveals that he’s killed the brother of feared mobster Vincent Cullen. Scarier still, the undertaker that Paddy works for is called upon to make the arrangements for the dead man’s funeral, and a nervous Paddy has to meet the grieving brother face to face. The 39steps by Patrick Barlow Mix a Hitchcock masterpiece with a juicy spy novel, add a dash of Monty Python and you have The 39 Steps, a fast-paced whodunit for anyone who loves the magic of theatre! This 2-time Tony® and Drama Desk Award-winning treat is packed with nonstop laughs, over 150 zany characters (played by a ridiculously talented cast of 4), an on-stage plane crash, handcuffs, missing fingers and some good old-fashioned romance! Death At Wentwater Court (Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries #1)by Carola Dunn In this first installment of this cozy mystery series, Carola Dunn transports readers back to the Britain of the 1920s, where the unflappable would-be journalist Daisy Dalrymple embarks on her first writing assignment-and promptly stumbles across a corpse… The Winter Garden Mystery (Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries #2) by Carola Dunn The merest hint of spring has arrived in Cheshire and so has Daisy Dalrymple. The feisty flapper is a breath of fresh air to the occupants of gloomy Occles Hall, among them her former school chum, wallflower Bobbie Parslow, and the thorny mistress of the manor, Lady Valeria. While photographing the barren grounds behind the house. Daisy suspects someone has been digging the soils first green - and promptly unearths the corpse of Grace Moss, the missing parlor maid. So begins a harrowing romp as the dead woman’s shocking secret is revealed - leaving Daisy to catch a killer before she’s pushing up daisies…. Requiem for a Mezzo (Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries #3) by Carola Dunn In March 1923, the Honourable Daisy Dalrymple takes a break from her writing to attend a performance of Verdi’s Requiem at the Albert Hall with Scotland Yard’s Detective Chief Inspector Alec Fletcher. The tickets are a gift from Muriel Westlea, Daisy’s neighbor and the sister of Bettina Westlea, who will be singing the mezzo role. What was supposed to be a pleasant afternoon is quickly disrupted when Bettina falls dead on stage - killed by cyanide poisoning. While it is quickly determined that Bettina’s on-stage glass of liqueur was laced with the poison, discovering the person responsible will not prove to be an easy task. Bettina was neither well liked nor well behaved, and many of her colleagues, associates, and even her family had good reason to want her dead. Daisy, determined to help Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher, whether he wants help or not, decides to do some investigating on her own. But with so many suspects, the murderer may well go free…. Murder on the Flying Scotsman (Daisy Dalrymple #4) by Carola Dunn The Honorable Daisy Dalrymple heads on the Flying Scotsman train to Edinburgh for her next 1923 magazine article. Schoolfellow, Anne Breton and her relatives also rush to the deathbed of family scion, miserly Alistair McGowan. His heir, brother Albert, is found murdered aboard. Plus, Belinda, daughter of DCI Alec Fletcher, is a runaway and stowaway.

Damsel in Distress (Daisy Dalrymple #5) by Carola Dunn Daisy Dalrymple, magazine writer and heiress, helps her pal Philip Petrie, whose sweetheart Gloria Arbuckle, daughter of a millionaire Yank, is kidnapped in 1923. Strictly forbidden to contact dashing Scotland Yard Inspector Alec Fletcher, she suspects trouble as she closes in on the abductors' rural hideaway.

Dead in the Water - (Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries #6) by Carola Dunn Daisy Dalrymple visits relatives with fiancé DCI Alec Fletcher, and covers the 1923 Henley Royal Regatta for an American magazine. But tensions escalate between the Ambrose team coxswain Horace Bott - shopkeeper's son and scholarship student at Oxford - and rower Basil DeLancey - the son of an Earl and all-round bounder - who keels over and dies mid-race.

The Shining by Stephen King An isolated hotel in the Colorado Mountains. Jack Torrance, a failed writer with psychological problems gets a caretaker job. During the last days of autumn he travels to the infamous Hotel „Overlook“ - together with his wife Wendy and his son Danny. Dear Dr. Stopes - Sex in the 1920s - edited by Ruth Hall After she published her first books Married Love and Wise Parenthood in 1918 she also became the first person to whom a large numbers of men and women wrote freely about their sexual and marital problems. Naturally, the correspondence was limited to the book buying public, overwhelmingly middle class. But after the opening of the clinic in 1921 and the wide coverage given to her sensational libel action in 1923, her influence spread to all classes of society. She now got desperate letters for help from women in the London slums as well as disapproving deckle-edged comments from episcopal places. Flapper - Joshua Zeitz Blithely flinging aside the Victorian manners that kept her disapproving mother corseted, the New Woman of the 1920s puffed cigarettes, snuck gin, hiked her hemlines, danced the Charleston, and necked in roadsters. More important, she earned her own keep, controlled her own destiny, and secured liberties that modern women take for granted. Her new found freedom heralded a radical change in American culture. The Autobiography of a Flea - Anonymous The Autobiography of a Flea is an anonymous erotic novel first published in 1887 in London by Edward Avery. Later research has revealed that the author was a London lawyer of the time named Stanislas de Rhodes.

#my life in books #index #books #reading #mfmm fandom

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Agatha Christie: Easter Eggs and Symbolism in the BBC Adaptations

https://ift.tt/2Wl1nx8

‘Everything is the story,’ says screenwriter Sarah Phelps. That’s why the stage directions in her scripts are so finely detailed. ‘The story isn’t just what comes out of people’s mouths, the story is what’s in the room.’

‘How high are the ceilings? Are the windows large or small? What does the air smell of? Is it cold? Is everything always slightly damp? Is there enough food on the table? Is there a fly buzzing somewhere? What can you see out of the window? Can you hear traffic? Can you hear your next-door neighbours? Is there a dog that barks incessantly?’

Without that detail, Phelps tells Den of Geek, she’d just be putting dialogue into a vacuum. Mood, weather, smell, hair, costume… it all forms the fabric of a script. But there’s more. All five of her BBC One Agatha Christie dramas are also connected through symbolic details. From a Spanish Baroque painting to the colour red, to bears and polar exploration, here are the hidden details tucked away in Phelps’ adaptations.

Agnus Dei Painting

Like the silver hare statue to be found in the background of every Inside No. 9 episode, all five of Phelps’ Christie adaptations feature the same early 17th century painting, Francisco de Zurbarán’s Agnus Dei, or Lamb of God.

In December 2018, this Twitter user spotted the painting of a trussed lamb on display in And Then There Were None (above the mantlepiece) The Witness for the Prosecution (on an easel in Emily French’s home), Ordeal by Innocence (on Rachel and Leo’s dining room wall) and The ABC Murders (by the stairs in the Carmichael pile). In 2019’s The Pale Horse, it’s hanging on the wall of Mark Easterbrook’s antiques dealership office.

To Phelps, the painting seemed to be an apt way to describe the all-pervading sense of guilt and secrecy she sees in the Agatha Christie universe. Speaking at The Pale Horse press launch in 2019, she explained, “You don’t know whether the lamb is dead or alive because it’s trussed. It has no free will. The deed has been done.”

Polar Bears

When writing her fifth and – for now – final Christie adaptation, 2019’s The Pale Horse, Phelps inserted a link back to her first, 2015’s And Then There Were None. In the latter’s original story, a character is killed when a bear-shaped clock falls off a ledge and hits him on the head. To Phelps, that felt unintentionally comic and not neat enough for the story’s serial killer, who she felt wouldn’t allow such room for error. Her solution was to change the death by having the victim stabbed by the killer draped in a polar bear skin rug.

Fast forward to the opening scene of The Pale Horse, which introduces us to antiques dealer Mark Easterbrook alongside a new artefact in his office: a taxidermied polar bear.

Sarah Phelps Interview: Agatha Christie is Always Asking ‘Are You Paying Attention?’

By Louisa Mellor

The Pale Horse writer interview: ‘I’ve changed elements of the end’

By Rosie Fletcher

‘Because I’d supplanted a polar bear rug for the bear-shaped clock in And Then There Were None, it really struck me that I wanted to continue that theme as a nod. By the time I’d got to The Pale Horse, I just fell in love with the idea that the first thing you see about Mark Easterbrook is him unboxing a giant polar bear. That tells us now that we are in a place which is rather strange.’

‘I like thinking about the polar extremes. You’re at a point in the world where nothing is familiar and if you walk out of your little safe tent you could be dead in a moment,’ Phelps tells Den of Geek. ‘So that came up in Ordeal by Innocence [in which a character has recently returned from an experimental nuclear polar expedition] and that’s because I became obsessed with nuclear experimentation and the arms race post-Second World War.’

The Banality of Evil

‘It wasn’t just the same painting in every single one of them,’ Phelps explains, she also wanted to make the stories talk to each other in ‘a continuing conversation about how we get to be where we are. How did we get to be here, in the 21st century? Perhaps if we look back at 50 years of the blood-soaked and tumultuous 20th century, we might understand how we came to be where we are now… although I doubt it.’

To that end, Phelps selected the dates on which each of her adaptations take place to draw from very specific moments in 20th century history. ‘Nobody else had to know about this but it was there for me.’

‘And Then There Were None is in 1939, just as we’re about to go to war. In The Witness for the Prosecution, the date of the murder is the date of the Beer Hall Putsch in Munich, which is the first time the world really learns the name of Adolf Hitler, and by the time you get to The Pale Horse, Mark Easterbrook is sitting there reading the news headlines about the televised trial of Adolf Eichmann in Jerusalem, when Hannah Arendt coined the phrase ‘the banality of evil’, not realising that he is absolutely caught up in the banality of evil.’

‘It was always that sense that there was this really tight net wound around everybody and that none of them are free from that and we should pay attention.’

Dangerous Colour

Phelps describes the 20th century as blood-soaked and the same can be said for her Christie scripts, each of which is drenched in the colour red.

In And Then There Were None, ‘the red was all about Vera’s swimsuit,’ she explains. ‘When I was reading the book I just had this strange image in my head of this woman wearing a bright red swimsuit in this white house that collapses in on itself with really strange geometry.’

Red is such a perilous colour says Phelps. ‘It’s a distinct danger colour, danger and seduction and thrill and peril. It just kept me company as I went through.’

Phelps, who once worked as a dresser for the Royal Shakespeare Company, never stops thinking about costume, she says. ‘It’s how you meet the world […] I loved the idea of the startling red of Vera’s swimsuit. Romaine had a really lovely little red hat [in The Witness for the Prosecution].’ There are also the red shoes walked up and down the back of Cust in The ABC Murders, I offer.

‘I just felt it was an acknowledgement that these things are significant. For numerous reasons, they say to us ‘danger’ or they say to us the commodification of sexuality or they say this is being worn to make you think a particular way about this person and look, you thought it! Because you were already thinking it, which is the main point.’

‘There was always that sense of wanting to have that continuing conversation, that relationship, with the painting, the dates and that rubric of colours that kept me company throughout all five pieces.’

Agatha Christie’s The ABC Murders is streaming now on Acorn TV

The post Agatha Christie: Easter Eggs and Symbolism in the BBC Adaptations appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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