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feliciamontagues · 4 years

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My Ranking of Every Hercule Flambeau Episode (S01-S08)

There are some spoilers for S7 and S8, but they are fairly vague and pretty much the sort of thing that you might see on the official press release. So not true spoilers as such. Also this is totally subjective and the result of my own personal biases. It’s also behind the cut because it’s looooonnng.

8. The Two Deaths of Hercule Flambeau (s06e10)--

So, this episode is *fine*. It’s hardly the worst episode of the show, but it’s easily the weakest of the Flamby eps, despite their being a few isolated moments I enjoy. (Hercule getting a long overdue bedroom scene for one :P)

My main gripe is with this episode is the uneven way Lisandra Flambeau is written. The script seems to flip-flop over whether we are supposed to find her sympathetic or not. On one hand, many scenes imply that she genuinely loves Hercule despite them having a shotgun marriage after only a few days of knowing each other. On the other hand, she does not hesitate for a minute before poisoning an innocent (Fr. B) for no other reason than to hurt Flamby, which makes her lose a lot of sympathy points.

And as a result, it seems to make Flambeau seem like more of arse than normal for betraying her, while somehow also absolving him of responsibility for doing so, because she turns around and does *THAT.*

And ngl, it does make me a little uncomfortable that while the character of Lisandra (as an Italian) is possibly not meant to be interpreted as a POC, the actress portraying her definitely is. (Sara Martins is of Afro-Portuguese descent). Which makes the uneven characterization (and underwritten-ness) seem even more glaring, especially when compared to that of the other (white) women in Flambeau’s life (his first love Rebecca and his daughter Marianne, arguably Lady Felicia as well). It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth even if in all likelihood, the part wasn’t written with Sara Martins in mind.

I think a much more interesting approach to Lisandra would be to have intending to betray Flambeau all along. Maybe she had her own agenda for seducing Flamby, meanwhile he thinks he’s the one using her for his plan. Maybe she does develop some feelings for him along the way, but it only makes her hesitate for a moment before going ahead with her original plan. That way, she keeps her agency and isn’t reduced to the “woman scorned” stereotype while also leaving the writers free to ship Flamby with others in the future without seemingly endorsing guilt-free adultery .

Other random note: I can’t take parts of this episode seriously because the “Crown of Lombardy” is very obviously Guinevere’s crown from BBC Merlin with no attempt to alter or disguise it.

7. The Daughter of Autolycus (s04e05)--

Not gonna lie, I am not really a fan of “character has long lost relative that we’ve never heard of until now” plots. And that goes double when said long-lost relative is a child or sibling. As such my low ranking of this episode is partly due to unconscious personal biases against that trope.

That being said, if we had to get a long-lost relative that we’ve never heard of until now plot, I’m so glad we got Marianne--even if it takes her another episode to really live up to her potential.

I have to knock off a few more points for Nero Hound as a villain. For one thing, he was played by Nancy Carroll’s real-life hubby, but they didn’t let let him interact with Lady F at all. Such a *waste.* Also Nero Hound is far too similar a name to Nero Wolfe, and I’ve definitely confused them on more than one occasion). He’s also rather generic in my opinion, even compared to some of Flambeau’s other “generic mobster” rivals/associates like the ones in S8.

However, there are some moments in this episode I genuinely like--particularly the theft “imagine spot” and Flambeau’s bishop disguise in general. Plus, the scenes where Flambeau and Marianne appear together are excellent, as are the hints that Marianne will become a redemptive trigger in Flambeau’s life.

6. The Judgement of Man (s03e10)--

Again, the low ranking of this one may be due to personal biases. In this case, I’m still low-key bitter--five years later-- at the BBC marketing department for baiting me with the idea of Flambeau actually interacting with the rest of the squad (esp romantic tiems with Lady F) and then giving me the absolute minimum of Felicia/Flambeau flirting and no Flambeau/Sid and Flambeau/Mrs. M interaction.

But there are other reasons why this is in my bottom 3 Flambeau episodes.

Honestly, I feel like an equally compelling episode about the Vatican’s complicity in Nazi art theft could’ve been made without having to insert Flambeau in it. I mean I suppose it does make sense to have the art thief character in the art episode, but still I feel like both Flambeau backstory and important historical lesson about Nazis, the Church, and Jewish art suffer from being crammed into the same episode.

That being said, Mrs. McCarthy’s duchess disguise in this episode cleared my skin, watered my crops, etc, which is why I’ve ranked it higher than the previous two.

5. The Folly of Jephthah (s08e05)

It loses a few points because I got very exited about the idea of Marianne becoming Bunty’s thief gf cool new friend, and yet in the episode itself, they only shared one scene and didn’t really interact much in it. That being said, I did like like that Bunty and Mrs. M had a bigger role in this episode than the squad usually gets in Flambeau episodes.

Overall, I feel this episode works a lot better than most of the other “backstory-heavy” Flambeau episodes, because we’ve already gotten the Marianne-related exposition out of the way and can focus more on allowing her character, Flambeau’s and their relationship with each other to develop.

I’m also a bit smug in that I predicted (or at least hoped for) this exact character arc for Marianne within a few weeks of “The Daughter of Autocylus” airing and that my hopes came to fruition so beautifully.

It doesn’t particularly impact the ranking too much, but I do feel like this episode deserves a special shout out, because it has established a (hopefully-continuing!) pattern of Father Brown calling Flamby almost exclusively by his first name, which is a major significant step in their bromance and deserves recognition as such.

4. The Blue Cross (s01e10)--

As someone who was first exposed to Father Brown through reading the stories for a college course, I always find it especially interesting to look at the episodes that were adapted from Chesterton.

This episode is neither the most faithful book-to-show adaptation (which is probably “The Three Tools of Death”) nor is it the best (imo “The Sign of the Broken Sword’) , but it is arguably the most significant. “The Blue Cross” was the first ever Fr. Brown story and is probably the most well-known. It’s also the first real look we get at the character of Flambeau, who (in the stories and arguably the show as well) is probably the closest thing we get to a clear character arc.

The show keeps some of the important elements of the short story: Flambeau’s clergyman disguise, the switching of the packages. But it also has the challenging task of upping the relatively low stakes of the story, as well as introducing a major recurring character that resembles his book counterpart but remains distinct enough to justify the fairly different direction show canon is taking him.

The show does this reasonably well--if not particularly imaginatively. I do enjoy some of the touches (I’ve written an entire meta before about Flamby’s reading material on the train and how it relates to his character)--particularly the show’s choice to have Flambeau fixated on religious art specifically (RIP for Flambeau’s Dairy Company though. It will always live in my heart).

Unfortunately in the adaptation, loses a few points for not really using the show-original characters particularly effectively. It loses still more for Flambeau’s characterization in this episode . He comes across as much more serious and menacing in this episode than in all the others. It works okay when we consider this as a standalone episode but provides some glaring Early Installment Weirdness when we compare it to other episodes.

3. The Penitent Man (s05e15)--

So as the rest of this list will testify, I have strong preference for the “fun” Flambeau episodes over the more series ones. This is the exception that proves the rule--the serious, cerebral, melancholy episode that simply “works” for me in the way that some of the others have not.

A lot of it is due to the more-intense-than-usual Flambeau character focus that goes into this. Sure, we’ve met his (presumably ex-by-now) wife, his daughter, and his first love by this point, but all of those episodes focused primarily on Flambeau as an extension of the relationships with others. (”The Judgement of Man” in particular is far more Rebecca’s story than Hercule’s.)

Whereas this episode is very definitively focused on Flambeau himself and allows more nuanced exploration of two of the most defining facets of Flambeau’s character: (1) his fascination with religion--and spiritual salvation in particular-- as something he seems to resist and crave in near equal measure (2) his almost masochistic streak of recklessness.

Even though Flambeau’s supposed “piety” is revealed to be all part of his heist plan, there are strong hints that his desire for redemption and atonement are at least somewhat genuine, even if he is not ready to pursue them just yet.

Off topic, but a few random things of note in this episode: this episode all-but-confirms bi!Flambeau, wet!Flambeau at the end is extremely relevant to my interests, Father Brown attempts to smuggle Flamby a lock pick from the beginning and has the audacity to say “ I only use it when I get locked out of the presbytery.”

Also, it has this iconic exchange:

Goodfellow: What is that awful smell?

Father Brown (covered in sewage): It’s me

2. The Honorable Thief (S07e10)-- So nearly all of the Flambeau-centered episodes from S3 on have been a little preoccupied with filling in some of the gaps in Flambeau’s backstory, which is *fine*, but honestly, I feel like in doing so, they’ve really lost sight of why we fell in love with the character in the first place.

He’s vibrant and clever and funny and over-the-top. But most importantly, Flambeau is a lot of fun. Therefore, it follows that episodes that feature him should be a lot of fun too.

And well... they are all fun in some way, but they aren’t as fun as they really could be. John Light is insanely charismatic, but charisma can only go so far when the episode in question is a downer.

Fortunately, this episode is the furthest thing from a downer imaginable. It’s absolutely delightful from start to finish. The plot is serious enough to keep things engaging, but also light enough to keep us from getting too distracted by angst.

I’m also incredibly biased in favor of this episode, because it finally gave me the Felicia/Flambeau ship tease I’d been passionately hoping for (if not really expecting to get after “The Judgement of Man” disappointed me). But it was so much and so good, and I wasn’t ready for it.

In a broader sense though, this episode really delivered with Flambeau/squad interaction in general--which was a key component that has been missing from most of the other episodes. And the Father Brown & Flambeau interactions were also has heartwarming and funny as they always are.

If I have one tiny little gripe with the episode, it’s that Daniel is not Sid. He has enough broad similarities with Sid that I can’t help but wonder if the episode was originally written with Sid and then hastily re-written when Alex Price couldn’t return. That being said, he was a likable enough guest character in his own right, and I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.

1. The Mysteries of the Rosary (S02e05)-- Perfection. Not only is this THE definitive Flambeau episode, but is also one of the best episodes of the show overall. It has everything: the birth of bearded Flamby, bromantic road trips, a treasure hunt, great guest turns from Anton Lesser and Sylvestra Le Touzel.

I think part of the reason this episode resonates so strongly with me is that it’s really the first proper sense that we get of Show!Flambeau as a character. Sure we officially met him in “The Blue Cross,” but considering he didn’t show up until halfway through the episode and was in disguise for most of it, we didn’t really get much of a sense of who he is.

This episode changes all that and sets Flambeau up as the character we will know and love for the rest of the series--charming, urbane, funny, passionate, a carefree carpe diem exterior masking (or overcompensating for?) a sense of uncertainty and conflictedness.

Somewhat off topic, but as great an episode as this is for Flambeau’s character, it is nearly as wonderful for both Sid and Father Brown’s characters. We get to see Sid’s ease with Father Brown, the casual camraderie that the two of them have--as well as Sid’s protectiveness (and jealousy) when Flambeau decides to gatecrash their bromantic road trip.

Honestly, there are so many things that are great about this episode that I don’t think I could possibly list them--but one little detail that really struck my the last time I watched was that the first proper glimpse we see of Flambeau in this episode (we see him in shadow in a flashback before) involves him saving Father Brown’s life. Whereas the last proper glimpse we see of Flambeau is after Father Brown has saved Flambeau’s life. Thematic reversals. Cinematic parallels. We love to see it.

#father brown #bbc father brown #hercule flambeau #the adhd hitting hard; this was in my drafts for well over a year #that's right another flamby episode aired and had to be added before i finally finished it #that being said i really enjoyed it #let me know if you want me to rank more things #like i don't think i could rank every episode; but perhaps every episode in a given season #or the seasons themselves #or the top 5 best or worst episodes--either in general or for a particular character #meta #misc #one of these days i'm gonna go full feral english major and write a giant character analysis on book flamby vs show flamby #and all the interesting adaptational implications and nuanced writing choice of #mon petit gallique merde

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planetofsillyhats · 3 years

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(CW: General mid-antiquity misogyny)

Today is Transgender Day of Visibility, so I'm re-upping one of my short essays about one particular trans-woman particularly worthy of visibility: Ancient Rome's loopy god-queen, Elagabalus.

Elagabalus was the 25th Emperor of Rome--and also its first Empress. Born Sextus Varius Avitus Bassianus, she was by modern standards very obviously transgender, and would probably have been delighted to be addressed as Sexta Marcellina, her proper feminine name by Roman conventions.

She was raised in Syria, and was already the head of a major state religion: the worship of the solar deity El-Gabal, whose pedigree is entwined both with Christianity and with Islam. She ascended to the throne at the age of fourteen, succeeding the man who killed her cousin Caracalla and tried to rule in his place--because this was the tail end of the Severan Dynasty, and things were starting to go downhill for Rome. She did this by personally leading the final charge at the Battle of Antioch in 218 AD, actually helping to rout the usurper’s army and claiming Imperial honors for herself that very day. Picture that for a minute: a charging Roman legion led by a fourteen-year-old girl, then the same legion hoisting her on their shields and proclaiming her Imperator. The fact that everyone thought she was a little boy doesn’t really make it any less badass.

Unfortunately, this would be both the high point of her career, and the last time she’d ever have much real power. Once Marcellina settled down, she was little more than a puppet for her grandmother, Julia Maesa, who had tremendous ambition and, as a cisgender woman, no legitimate way of fulfilling it. This gave the Empress a whole lot of spare time to explore her identity--and while her strict henotheism ruffled feathers, and she may not have made many friends in high places for possibly inventing the whoopee cushion, what really made her unpopular was her sexuality.

Romans were a fairly enlightened bunch for the ancient world; they really didn’t care about race or religion one bit. If your faith didn’t involve infringing on the rights of others, they left you be---and the only religions they ever persecuted outright were the ones that involved human sacrifice (like the druids), theft (like certain Dionysian cults who supposedly ran around the countryside naked and slaughtered other people’s cattle), or sedition (like the Christians, who didn’t just refuse to pray to the deified Emperors, but wouldn’t even pray TO their own god FOR the living ones). Their only real social vices were their class issues--which were somewhat lessened by the fact that even the Senatorial elite were little more than a rubber stamp for the Emperor--and their staggering, galloping, ludicrous misogyny.

And when I call the Romans misogynistic, I don’t mean they were “just” sexist the way most modern Americans are, with our sometimes invisible biases and quietly nasty patriarchal worldview. I mean they really, flat-out, openly despised women and anything feminine. To illustrate the difference, Americans are homophobic partly because we have often unthinkingly sexist biases that make us see sex with a man as feminine and femininity in a man as bad. The Romans had the same attitude toward homosexuality, but they were so massively misogynistic that they went and romanticized certain types of gay relationships anyway, because keeping little boys as sex slaves at least proved you weren’t mooning away over--gag--a girl. And lesbianism was considered a form of frigidity; you weren’t really attracted to women, you were just being irrational and man-hating, which could be cured by sufficiently vigorous rape.

This was not a good environment for a teenaged transgirl with unlimited executive power, is what I’m getting at.

One of the things that I think people don't think about enough with regards to the ancient world and its cast of Great Men is how incredibly young a lot of these legendary characters are. Alexander the Great, for example, was... well, first off, he was basically Genghis Khan, but we root for him because he was a rich white guy. But more importantly, he was younger than me when he conquered Persia--which explains a lot about him, like the time he got really, really drunk in 330 BC and burned down Persepolis, probably resulting in a morning-after scene that looked like Cecil B. DeMille's The Hangover. All the the legendarily loony Roman Emperors were also twentysomethings at best--Caligula was the old man of the Bad Princeps Club at twenty-five, and his reign was less about real tyranny than sexual experimentation and snarky performance art. Nero was sixteen, and reading actual accounts of his reign, it very much shows--he was dramatic, emo and bratty, and desperate for attention and approval.

Marcellina was fourteen years old, trapped in a male body, and ruling a city-state where just wearing what would be considered normal men's wear back in Syria--colorful silks, some tasteful jewelry, and a practical bit of eyeliner to keep out the sun--got her ridiculed as a foppish, Oriental despot. But undeterred by legendary Roman normative biases, she took advantage of her Imperial prerogative to do what, to my knowledge, no other person in Western history had up to that point: live openly as a transwoman. She wore women's clothing, took male lovers, and famously offered huge sums of money to any doctor or wizard who could transition her. Of course, this was the Iron Age, so nobody took her up on it, and she still had protocols and traditions to follow--so she got married, tried to produce heirs, did all the usual Pater Familias stuff. But at some point, after the first year of her reign, she seems to have just given up and, like Caligula, entered a rather mean-spirited "just fucking with everyone" phase. She executed people, gave out cabinet positions to lovers, and didn't seem to care about actually ruling anymore.

Now, Romans were really, really nasty to people who didn't fit within their sexual norms--but they also used sexual deviancy as a form of slander in itself, so it's very hard to say just how much of the legend of Elagabalus the Crazy Syrian Drag Queen(tm) is really true. It's doubtful, for example, that she actually held a banquet at which several tons of flower petals were dumped from the rafters, smothering many guests. It's a safe bet, though, to say that she didn't take her marriage vows seriously at all, and seemed to enjoy taking the mickey out of Roman sexual mores. On one occasion, she married a virgin priestess of Vesta, left her for the wife of a man she'd had executed, and then dumped her to go back to the vestal virgin--who she may have married just for the sake of a joke about siring divine children. She went through five wives over the four years she reigned--but the whole time, her true love and only real companion seems to have been her chauffeur, Hierocles, who in my mind's eye is always portrayed by Darren Criss. She wasn't allowed to marry him--there are some things even an Emperor can't do--nor was she allowed to make him her co-ruler. But she did stick with him, and it looks to me to have been genuine teenage puppy love--just about the only thing in her life that was just right.

Now, isn't this just a little bit first-world-problemy? What can really go wrong if you're the ruler of all Western civilization? Well, if you recall, I said that Sexta reigned for only four years--in 222 CE, she and her mother were murdered by their own elite bodyguards, her kid brother Alexander was installed as the new Emperor, and the Romans set about trying their darnedest to erase her from history, or at least paint her as the worst thing since the RIAA. Does her reputation as the worst ruler Rome ever saw hold water? Not really. Could she have been better? Maybe--but so could Rome.

#elagabalus #history #ancient rome #LGBT+

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twh-news · 5 years

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Tom Hiddleston on ‘Betrayal’ and the Art of Self-Protection

Tom Hiddleston was posing for a portrait, and the face he showed the camera wasn’t entirely his own.

That had been his idea, to slip for a few moments into the character he’s playing on Broadway, in Harold Pinter’s “Betrayal”: Robert, the cheated-on husband and backstabbed best friend whose coolly proper facade is the carapace containing a crumbling man. And when Mr. Hiddleston became him, the change was instantaneous: the guarded stillness of his body, the chill reserve in his gray-blue eyes.

“It’s interesting,” Mr. Hiddleston said after a while, analyzing Robert’s expression from the inside. “It gives less away.” A pause, and then his own smile flickered back, its pleasure undisguised. “O.K.,” Mr. Hiddleston announced, himself again, “it’s not Robert anymore.”

It was late on a muggy August morning, one day before the show’s first preview at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theater, and Mr. Hiddleston — the classically trained British actor best known for playing the winsomely chaotic villain Loki, god of mischief and brother of Thor, in the Marvel film franchise — had been in New York for less than a week.

He’ll be here all autumn for the limited run of the production, a hit in London earlier this year, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he’d settled in. “I literally have never sat in this room before,” he’d said at the top of the photo shoot, in his cramped auxiliary dressing room, next door to the similarly tiny one he had been occupying.

He’d had nothing to do with the space’s camera-ready décor. So there was no use making a metaphor of the handsome clock with its hands stopped at 12 (“Betrayal” is famous for its reverse chronology; far more apt if the clock had run backward), or of the compact stack of pristine books that looked like journals, with pretty covers and presumably empty pages: a bit off-brand for Mr. Hiddleston, who at 38 has a model-perfect exterior with quite a lot inscribed inside.

Take the matter-of-fact way he said, in explaining that he’d first encountered Pinter’s work when he studied for his A-levels in English literature, theater, Latin and Greek: “It was a real tossup between French and Spanish or Latin and Greek. I thought, I can always speak French and Spanish, I can’t always read Latin and Greek, so I’ll study that and I’ll speak the other two.”

Though, to be fair, he only said that because I’d teased him slightly about the Latin and Greek, and I’d teased him — not a recommended journalistic technique — because he was so disarmingly good-humored and resolutely down to earth, chatting away as he waited for the photographer to set up a shot. It didn’t seem like it would ruffle him. He laughed, actually.

‘What remains private’

Photos taken, back in the faintly more lived-in of his Broadway dressing rooms, Mr. Hiddleston opened the window to let in some Midtown air — and when you’re as tall as he is, 6 feet 2 inches, opening it from the top of the window frame is easy enough to do. Then, making himself an espresso with his countertop machine, he sat down to talk at length.

“I’m always curious about the presentation of a character’s external persona versus the interior,“ he said. “What remains private, hidden, concealed, protected, and what does the character allow to be seen? We all have a very complex internal world, and not all of that is on display in our external reality.”

He can tick off the ways that various characters of his conceal what’s inside: Loki, with all that rage and vulnerability “tucked away”; the ultra-proper spy Jonathan Pine, in “The Night Manager,” “hiding behind his politeness”; Robert, a lonely man wearing “a mask of control” that renders him “confident, powerful, polished,” at least as far as any onlookers can tell.

In “Betrayal,” each of the three principals has an enormous amount to hide from the people who are meant to be their closest intimates. It’s a play about power and manipulation, duplicity and misplaced trust, and what’s so threatening about it is the very ordinariness of its privileged milieu. This snug little world that once seemed so safe and ideal — the happiest of families, the oldest of friends — has long since fallen apart.

But to Mr. Hiddleston, Pinter’s drama contains two themes just as significant as betrayal: isolation and loneliness.

“The sadness in the play — it’s not only sadness; because it’s Pinter, there’s wit and levity as well — but if there is sadness in the play,” he said, “I think it comes from the fact that these betrayals render Robert, Emma and Jerry more alone than they were before.”

Trust and self-protection

One-on-one, Mr. Hiddleston was more cautious than he’d been during the photo shoot, surrounded then by a gaggle of people affiliated with the show. Still, when I asked him about betrayal, lowercase, he went straight to the condition it violates.

“To trust is a profound commitment, and to trust is to make oneself vulnerable,” he said, fidgeting with a red rubber band and choosing his words with care. “It’s such an optimistic act, because you’re putting your faith in the hands of someone or something which you expect to remain constant, even if the circumstances change.”

“I’m disappearing down a rabbit hole here,” he said, “but I think about it a lot. I think about certainty and uncertainty. Trust is a way of managing uncertainty. It’s a way of finding security in saying, ‘Perhaps all of this is uncertain, but I trust you.’ Or, ‘I trust this.’ And there’s a lot of uncertainty in the world at the moment, so it becomes harder to trust, I suppose.”

An interview itself is an act of trust, albeit often a wary one. And there was one stipulated no-go zone in this encounter, a condition mentioned by a publicist only after I’d arrived: No talk of Taylor Swift, with whom Mr. Hiddleston had a brief, intense, headline-generating romance that, post-breakup, she evidently spun into song lyrics.

That was three years ago, and I hadn’t been planning to bring her up; given the context of the play, though, make of that prohibition what you will. Mr. Hiddleston, who once had a tendency to pour his heart out to reporters, knows that he can’t stop you.

“It’s not possible, and nor should it be possible, to control what anyone thinks about you,” he said. “Especially if it’s not based in any, um —” he gave a soft, joyless laugh — “if it’s not based in any reality.”

That’s something he’s learned about navigating fame — about being put on a pedestal that’s then kicked out from under him. He knows now “to let go of the energy that comes toward me, be it good or bad,” he said. “Because naturally in the early days I took responsibility for it.”

“And yes, I’m protective about my internal world now in probably a different way,” he added, his tone as restrained as his words. He took a beat, and so much went unsaid in what he said next: “That’s because I didn’t realize it needed protecting before.”

Even so, he doesn’t give the impression of having closed himself off. When something genuinely made him laugh, he smiled a smile that cracked his face wide open.

And the way he treated the people around him at work — with a fundamental respect, regardless of rank, and no whiff of flattery — made him seem sincere about what he called “staying true to the part of myself that’s quite simple, that’s quite ordinary.”

That investment in his ordinariness, as he put it, is a hedge against the destabilizing trappings of fame, but it doubles as a way of protecting his craft.

It’s also of a piece with his insistence that vulnerability is a necessary risk to take, at least sometimes.

“If you go through life without connecting to people,” he asked, “how much could you call that a life?”

#tom hiddleston #article #interview #betrayal #Betrayal on Broadway

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maryxglz · 5 years

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Tom Hiddleston was posing for a portrait, and the face he showed the camera wasn’t entirely his own.

From a one-night reading to Broadway

In this country, Mr. Hiddleston is mainly a screen star, known also for playing Jonathan Pine in the John le Carré series “The Night Manager” on AMC. There are plans, too, for him to bring Loki to Disney’s streaming service in a stand-alone series.

But at home in London, he has amassed some impressive Shakespearean credits, including the title roles in Kenneth Branagh’s “Hamlet” and Josie Rourke’s “Coriolanus,” and a turn as Cassio in Michael Grandage’s “Othello” — a production that Pinter, saw some months before he died in 2008. That was the year Mr. Hiddleston won a best newcomer Olivier Award for Cheek by Jowl’s “Cymbeline.”

Jamie Lloyd’s “Betrayal,” which has a staging to match the spareness of Pinter’s language and a roiling well of squelched emotion to feed its comedy, is Mr. Hiddleston’s Broadway debut. Likewise for his co-stars, Zawe Ashton (of Netflix’s “Velvet Buzzsaw”), who plays Emma, Robert’s wife; and Charlie Cox (of Netflix’s “Daredevil”), who plays Emma’s lover, Jerry, Robert’s oldest friend.

Beginning at what appears to be the end of Robert and Emma’s marriage, after her yearslong affair with Jerry has sputtered to a stop, it’s a drama of cascading double-crosses. First staged by Peter Hall in London in 1978 — and in 1980 on Broadway, where it starred Roy Scheider, Blythe Danner and Raul Julia — it rewinds through time to the sozzled evening when Emma and Jerry overstep the line.

The most recent Broadway revival was just six years ago, directed by Mike Nichols and starring Daniel Craig as Robert, Rachel Weisz as Emma and Rafe Spall as Jerry. It might seem too soon for another, let alone one with sexiness to spare — except that Mr. Lloyd’s production is also marked by a palpable hauntedness and a profound sense of loss.

Reviewing the London staging in The New York Times, Matt Wolf called it “a benchmark achievement for everyone involved,” showing the play “in a revealing, even radical, new light.” Michael Billington, in The Guardian, called Mr. Hiddleston’s performance “superb.”

What’s curious is that Mr. Hiddleston, so good at bad boys, isn’t playing Jerry, the more glamorous role: the cad, the pursuer, the best man who goes after the bride. But Mr. Lloyd said that casting him that way was never part of their discussions.

Last fall, when Mr. Lloyd persuaded Mr. Hiddleston to read a scene with Ms. Ashton for a one-night gala celebration of Pinter in London, part of the season-long Pinter at the Pinter series, there was no grand plan. Having asked Mr. Hiddleston about a possible collaboration for years, since “just before he became ridiculously famous,” Mr. Lloyd said, this was the first time he got a yes.

“I just really admired his craft of acting, the precision of his acting, as well as his real emotional depth and his real wit,” Mr. Lloyd said. “And he’s turned into what I think is the epitome of a great Pinter actor. Because if you’re in a Pinter play, you have to dig really deep and connect to terrible loss or excruciating pain, often massive volcanic emotion, and then you have to bottle it all up. You have to suppress it all.”

This, he added, is what Mr. Hiddleston does in “Betrayal,” where characters’ meaning is found between and behind the words, not inside them.

“Some of the pain that he’s created in Robert, it’s just unbearable, and yet he always keeps a lid on it,” Mr. Lloyd said.

The scene Mr. Hiddleston and Ms. Ashton read at the gala appears at the midpoint of “Betrayal”: Robert and Emma on vacation in Venice, at a moment that leaves their marriage with permanent damage. Within days, Mr. Hiddleston told Mr. Lloyd that he was on board for a full production.

‘What remains private’

But to Mr. Hiddleston, Pinter’s drama contains two themes just as significant as betrayal: isolation and loneliness.

Trust and self-protection

Even so, he doesn’t give the impression of having closed himself off. When something genuinely made him laugh, he smiled a smile that cracked his face wide open.

That investment in his ordinariness, as he put it, is a hedge against the destabilizing trappings of fame, but it doubles as a way of protecting his craft.

It’s also of a piece with his insistence that vulnerability is a necessary risk to take, at least sometimes.

“If you go through life without connecting to people,” he asked, “how much could you call that a life?”

#tom hiddleston #betrayal #betrayal broadway #harold pinter #bernard b jacobs theatre #theatre #broadway #jamie lloyd #zawe ashton #charlie cox #the new york times

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lianors · 5 years

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❝ ⤚⟶ FLORENCE, 1455. thanks is given by the MISTRESS OF THE PRINCE OF WALES/COUNTESS OF SALISBURY, LIANOR ‘LIA’ MONTAGU, nee BEAUCHAMP from ENGLAND. they are at best STEADFAST, and at their worst ARTFUL. whilst sojourning in florence, their ambition is to MAINTAIN HER FACADE AND POSITION TO ENSURE HER LOVED ONES' FUTURE. SHE seems to remind everyone of CHARLOTTE HOPE & AN APPLE, HALF ROTTEN, HALF BRIGHT. ❞

hello, tis is mina and i will be playing this blossom who would just rather be chilling in a garden but is instead amidst a Mess ™ . if anyone wishes to plot just hit the heart in here or reach out through discord, and i’ll respond asap (i’m slow but i swear i pop up every now and then). i am very excited to get to know everyone and their characters, and to see how lia can be built (bc deadass she is a work in progress bear with me!)

now on to the bible bellow the cut and back to the reports i’ve got to write up.

FULL NAME : lianor “lia” catherine montagu, nee beauchamp

TITLES :

lady lianor beauchamp of kidderminster (former)

countess of salisbury, baroness montagu (by marriage, 1449-currently)

BIRTHPLACE: kidderminster, worcestershire

AGE : twenty seven (born in october 1427)

LANGUAGES : english, portuguese, latin, italian, french

DYNASTY / HOUSE:

MOTHER & FATHER :

beatriz de meneses, portuguese lady in waiting to the queen lianor of england (b. 1407)

richard beauchamp, baron beauchamp of kidderminster (b. 1401)

SPOUSE :

thomas montagu, 6th earl of salisbury, 7th baron montagu

ISSUE :

henry montagu (b. 1449)

rosamund montagu (b. 1452)

SIBLINGS :

john of kidderminster (b. 1430-d.1435)

one younger sister

richard of kidderminster (b. 1445)

OTHER :

henry of wales, crown prince of england: lover and baby daddy.

ZODIAC : libra

RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION : catholic

ORIENTATION : bisexual / heteromantic

PERSONALITY TYPE :

VICES :tba

VIRTUES : tba

FACECLAIM: charlotte hope

HEIGHT : 5' 2.75" / 157cm

RECOGNISABLE FEATURES : flaming red hair, heavy-lidded green eyes, lithe stature, wide rose-tinted lips.

REPUTATION IN FLORENCE : although her mother claims their high importance, lia is of considerably lower birth than many nobles in florence, and she comes to the city both to keep company to clementine and harry, and by her own curiosity over the beauty of the medici city. being not well known as others, she is allowed freedom; those attuned to the english court may regard her, at first sight, as just another deceitful english whore wishing to climb. upon meeting, the ill tongued reports fade into confusion over her quiet, pious and kind nature.

WANTED CONNECTIONS :

first of all, i would love to see her sister around! i view her being a lady in waiting, possibly the one for isabel? i plan on putting up a wc soon, but just so anyone wishes to play lower nobility in a snake garden ;)

literally anyone and anything! since lia is a wip and not a major player in the game, she has room for a lot, ranging from platonic friends to antagonistic and even romantic, even if she is kind of taken (Twice lmao).

when infanta lianor came to england and became queen eleanor she brought with her a retinue of portuguese nobles; amongst those, her oldest friend, beatriz de menezes. beatriz, of the house menezes of portugal, had come to the portuguese court to be companion to lianor when they both were still children, and together they remained until death came to do them apart. beatriz' loyalty to the queen was remarkable, and it was rewarded well throughout eleanor's tenure, most known by the marriage between beatriz and one of the duke of warwick's youngest sons, richard, who was given lands and made baron beauchamp of kidderminster upon the marriage.

their first child was born hastily after the marriage, and, as expected, named after the queen. lianor, the english born (soon to be called lia to differentiate herself from her predecessor), at first was raised as her father's heir, but at the princess' birth, she was relocated to the infant's service. a silly thing the choice of words, but they were her mother's: beatriz intended for her daughter to continue her legacy, not only currying favor with the crown but also by keeping company to the plantagenet children -- something that soon would become very important, seeing as they would be raised away from court, in wales. despite the distance to her parents, lia followed them.

by being the eldest of the bunch, there was quite a bit put upon her. she was both the most loyal friend and companion, an elder sister and a governess of sorts, even from a tender age. she was to make sure clem and harry didn’t misbehave so much, but also that they enjoyed their youth -- as she was supposed to do so, as well. by keeping company to the princess, lianor received an education suited for the role: from foreign languages to diplomacy, mathematics to dancing, and even a couple of sword fighting lessons she snuck with prince harry. she was noted to sing hymns beautiful and fervorously, and to enjoy hunting and horse riding endlessly with the same joy. accomplished in various areas and with an open mind to try everything at least once, she proved to be both eclectic and exquisite in her interests, a quality that has much aided her in making her living in the english nobility. with her years in wales, she also became passionate towards nature, enjoying the beautiful sights, the work on gardens and the tending of animals, and the feel of taking a dip on a lake or riding out early in the mornings.

being in an idyllic, secluded setting gifted her both freedom and entitlement, feeding a boldness she, perhaps, would not have carried had she remained by her father's estate and was put to marriage early, as commonly done. as she grew, instead of fulfilling her filial duties to her father, she continued to shadow her mother by being alongside the princess and, at some point, the prince. lia can not pinpoint exactly when from a sisterly figure she became enamoured with harry, nor she attempts to understand the feelings that are between them.

what she does know is that her first born is harry’s, even if it’s surname is montagu, after the man she was hastily married to over five years ago. she isn’t so sure of her second child’s father, but she assures both children’s parentage is thomas montagu, not henry of wales -- even for the prince, who, god willing, will remain unaware of the fact until the end of her days.

lianor's nature was built by the duty that was demanded of her. although only a little portion of her life was spent on court, she is well familiar with its trickery and norms, and she holds no qualms to play games to achieve what she believes necessary, even if by deceitful manner--which, somewhat delusionally, she explains her deeds and her lies as a greater good, as a means to protect her loved ones and to put herself and her honour above those she judges corrupted and foul intended, such as the false queen of england (even if many may deem her more similar to isabel than not).

although it has been long since she matured, she is still quick to judgement and quicker to hold a slight, oftimes even wrongfully so and only because of her preconceived notions. she is, however, not commonly guided by impulses, nor vanities, and remains relatively unassuming and introspect, fervently against unnecessary confrontation. lia has always been devoted: as a lady, as a daughter, as a pious catholic, as a lover; motherhood has increased her already quite nurturing nature, and her tendance to empathy, solidifying her as a warm and faithful presence despite what rumors may say.

#crhs.intro

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sea-changed · 5 years

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vermiculated replied to your post: vermiculated replied to your post...

I can't believe I missed this until now! wow! Here I am, here you are, there are books and words between us. wonderful. thank you.

<3 <3 <3

I have to tell you that I read Olivia Waite's new ff and it has exactly this problem. It is as though both heroines are mealy-mouthed and forgettable so that the reader won't be offended by reading a book about women. Their only flaws are caring too much, wanting appropriate twenty-first century style recognition (ahistoricism doesn't bother me but as I was reading it, I thought, @sea-changed is going to be livid) and accidentally misunderstanding one another...

also attempted financial abuse. which I mention separately because it added a note of the glass armonica to the music of the spheres. how is ff so inadequate to our desires?

Oh no, this is terribly disappointing to hear; I’d been holding out some amount of hope for this one, though that was probably folly on my part. Why, in a subgenre written by and wholly about women, can the seemingly fairly standard “women are people” concept continually fail to gain ground? I’ll still read this, as it’s waiting for me on my phone and the upcoming semester promises to require mindless stress-reading, but I’ll be extremely irate about it. (I always think I can be magnanimous about ahistoricism in romance novels, which is obviously a lie, but it is good to be known like this.)

re: re: 34, I love the sweeping romantic sentiment because they manage to meet in the middle only when they both understand themselves to be ludicrously devoted. It didn't quite feel like a romance novel, you are correct -- there's a bit of neither fish nor fowl here? I personally feel that the natural second-half plot ought to have been shoring up how Richard and David love one another despite their respective troubled backstories rather than ...

...advancing the political thriller from "A Seditious Affair" and developing a coherent moral world. Which is what novels are oriented toward: why do people do what they do, despite everything? In romance, they do it because they love one another (or they're supposed to) whereas I think more complicated motives such as you discuss are much rarer.

oh, novels!, I say, like I live inside Tony Trollope's vision. I think the book tries to have it both ways and ends up being slightly frustrating for all readers. just write two books, Kimberly! Kimberly is what I call her when I am trying to hector her from afar. dear Kimberly, please have Susan stab Templeton. xo.

“Just write two books” is honestly what it comes down to: it feels like two books, and while I get that the political thriller part allowed David to be David to to requisite degree, after how gracefully it was cleaved to the romance plot in Seditious Affair it felt a bit tacked-on here. And while I’m certainly not opposed to moral ambiguity in my ships, the genre formula seems to require that said ambiguity, if there is any to begin with, be neatly swept under the rug; it’s really the sweeping I have the problem with rather than the ambiguity itself. (Because like, should Richard be fucking his valet? No! That’s a pretty open-and-shut one. Which certainly doesn’t mean I’m opposed to watching it happen, but I’d like fewer bows on my endings, I guess. Did you know Gentleman’s Position was the first book of the series I read, because I thought it had the most interesting-sounding summary? In hindsight this amuses to no end.)

(The accusation that there are similar moral issues and rug-sweeping in Seditious Affair, and that I am simply too starry-eyed over it to complain about them, is potentially quite valid, though because of said stars in said eyes I’m not the one to judge.)

(dear Kimberly, please have Susan stab Templeton --The only way I can see this going down with zero hair torn out of my head, quite honestly.)

re: re: 39, @mysharkwillgoon made the unkind (but accurate) observation that this series is always available at our county library because no one likes it. I recognize that I am utterly alone in how much I enjoy this, and am really pleased that you picked it up and felt the requisite feelings. I know you're not a Victorianist by practice or nature, so it's impressive that you returned to this weird book.

HA, I’ve made this same observation (likely about the same library!), which I’ll admit is satisfying to the part of me that thinks everyone should have my taste, though dissatisfying to the equally clamorous part of me that wants to read Seditious Affair for the sixteenth time and has to wait for it on hold. Weird romance seems to be my favorite kind, so I too am glad I returned to it. Not a Victorianist by practice or nature may have to go on my office wall.

A general query: can literary fiction be experimental enough to reach the logical end-point of the genre or are we still pretending that felicity in art is enough? Why must there be meaning in the world? Perhaps I judge the Booker too harshly: it is only a literary competition, it is not an immurement by orange sticker -- yet every book I have wanted to love from the longlist has given me the same depth of emotion that I feel on regarding ...

...a tray of wrapped zucchini at the grocery store: why are we engaging in such resource-intensive craft! (this is not strictly true. I delighted in A Little Life, it was nothing like plastic on vegetables at all.) To continue, is the worst thing that happened to literary fiction the application of irony? I am no supporter of the genuine, the real, the unmanufactured, yet ironic distance can hardly support so much.

It's not a prerequisite. and it looks like smugness more often than it comes off as wit. I read someone recently saying that the problem in Jude the Obscure is "done because we are too menny" which struck me -- a biased Hardy fan -- as missing the point about art: the place where it happens is an artificial one, but it has greater force for that. it's not a bug, it's a feature!

"somewhat poisonous nostalgia" sick burn, I like it.

Speaking of sick burns, “the same depth of emotion that I feel on regarding a tray of wrapped zucchini at the grocery store” has the devastating combination of being both pithy and accurate. I do find myself regularly mystified about what criteria are used to long-list books in general (the Booker being, I think, a particularly frequent and egregious example): it leaves me to wonder whether a) people who judge these things find being left cold and unmoved a virtue in fiction or b) they are led to feel things about writing I find cold and unmoving. (I tend toward the first, though the fact that people have seemingly genuine emotions about Madeline Miller novels would argue strongly for the second.)

The pitting of irony and emotion against one another is, I agree, one of the central failings of the literary genre: Both! Both are good! As you say, being in a constructed hothouse universe is not to be derided (though certainly poked at), and it does not (or at least should not) lessen the emotional validity of the created world. Have faith in your own creations, you dimwits.

I have been thinking all morning about your observation that none of these books are experimental enough: I thought the French were meant to be good at this. Do you think it has to do with our late uneasiness around teenage sexuality, and that writing a sufficently-complicated teenager such that he is entitled to his own sexual preference means that authors no longer sound unique, ...

... but rather like a series of psychology textbooks. Which can be a pleasure (what's UP, Megan Abbott) yet tends to make these books extremely ... putdownable. Thank you for this, there's really nothing better than having a person with exquisite taste on whom one can rely to read books first.

I do think that there is an essential trouble with alienation in YA novels: so many read as false and/or patronizing, because they’re being written to teenagers rather than about teenagers. (Sometimes this is rectified when adult lit writes about teenagers, but mostly it is not, and certainly not in this case. Here again is a case of irony vs. emotion; if you’re not going to give me emotion, you’ve got to be a whole lot better at irony--or in this case more specifically narrative commentary--than this.)

(On the subject of complicated teenagers having sex convincingly, I was recently a fan of Patrick Ness’s Release, which the author describes it as a cross between Mrs. Dalloway and Judy Blume’s Forever; a comment I’ll let stand on its own sizable feet.)

And there is truly nothing better than having someone to dump your own particular long-winded exegeses on, so thank you for that in return.

ps I read Astray and it was so frail! "disappointingly pedestrian" indeed. If I could write like Emma Donoghue, I guess I would labor under the curse that afflicts her plotting.

For being a book that contained so much that I love--an entire collection of extremely specific and well-researched historical settings!--it was so flat. I know Donoghue can write better sentences, I’m at a loss why she chose to not put any in this collection.

#vermiculated #replies #books tag

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ayearofpike · 6 years

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The Last Vampire 4: Phantom

Pocket Books, 1996 179 pages, 20 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-55030-6 LOC: CPB Box no. 357 vol. 4 OCLC: 34651186 Released May 28, 1996 (per B&N)

Sita wakes up from her miraculous transformation ready to start a new life as a human. Even more miraculous: Ray, the resurrection of her long-passed husband, has somehow survived his terrible demise and is human again as well. She’s excited to be normal with him, renting a house, making friends, and having a baby. Only the baby progresses at a supernormal rate, and has the same powers and appetites Sita had as a vampire. They’ll soon find out she’s much more than that, though.

This was a storyline that I’d totally forgotten about until I read the back-of-the-book copy. Sita has a baby! The baby is a monster! The book ends on a realistic cliffhanger! Only reading all of these in one shot do I realize that here’s your goddamn Cold One II: Seedling right here. I mean, look at it: the lady is impregnated by an undead monster and gives birth to a precocious and beautiful dark-haired child named after the Hindu goddess of death, and what happens next? Pike claims he’s not going to tell us, but Last Vampire 4 and 5 got you, G.

Also, I neglected to mention this in the last entry, but you probably noticed: Not only have they done away with the horrible die-cut letters on the covers, but now they’re not even faking it anymore. I imagine that the cover artist (and maybe Pike too) got annoyed that they were hiding most of the artwork in an inside flap that people weren’t even inclined to flip to now that it didn’t peek through the letters. (The Lost Mind and The Visitor both had actual full cover art, hidden on another piece of cover stock just inside the front cover, with what would have previously peeked through printed on the letters. Maybe I should go back and shoot those, plus the ones inside the die-cut covers, for this blog. Let me try to catch up with the reading first, though.)

The story itself starts right where the last one left off, as has become par for the course in TLV so far. Yeah, dig it: since Sita first murdered a detective in Oregon, maybe six weeks have passed up to the beginning of this story. She’s awakened from her transformation nap by pounding on the door, along with a familiar sounding voice that is not Seymour (the only one living who is supposed to know who and where she is). She doesn’t answer, and the knocker goes away, but a little while later Seymour does show up. He’s bummed that Sita has given up her immortality, but excited at what it means that she’s a human about his age. Like, maybe she won’t make him a vampire, but maybe now they’ll get down. It’s not that far-fetched a wish, I guess, considering she is more truthful and thorough in talking to him than she is anyone else (and probably more than anyone else Seymour knows), but still. Dude.

They have to get out of Dodge, though, because Sita doesn’t know who’s still alive and trying to reach her. They drive to LA and set up in a hotel, and after Seymour falls asleep Sita goes for one of her customary nighttime walks. As per usual, she gets accosted by some scum of the earth who plan to rape and kill her, and as per usual she lets them catch her. Only — oh yeah! She doesn’t have her vampire powers and abilities anymore. What she does have is a pistol, and she uses it to cap both would-be attackers in the head. How is this better than crushing skulls and drinking blood? Sita doesn’t think it is. In fact, she has a breakdown walking back to the hotel and has to take a break in a coffee shop to try to get her wits.

And all of a sudden Ray walks in. How is this possible? Last time we saw Ray, he was lighting a stream of gasoline on fire — a stream that was pouring directly on him. He tells Sita that in the time between the explosion and when she murdered New Vampire, the latter had gathered up the scattered pieces of Ray and reassembled them, trying to bring him back to life by feeding him blood. Sounds fake, seeing as New Vampire would have only had two days to do this, yet here is Ray. He also tells Sita that it was him knocking on the door in Vegas, and after she left he went in and found the crystal setup and laid in it himself, so now he’s human again too. She tells him what just happened, and obviously he wants to get her out and clear of the area. But what about Seymour? Sita’s already told him to go home, and Ray says if she just bails maybe he’ll get the point.

So she gathers up her crap without waking him and goes with Ray all the way to ... Whitter. Yeah, almost 30 miles from where she killed two guys, that should be far enough, right? They build their normal life together, and it’s two months later that Sita discovers she’s pregnant. She meets another heavily pregnant woman while shopping for baby books, a single mom-to-be who works in a nearby Catholic church for whom Sita finds an instant affinity. But they can’t hang out too much right away, because Sita’s pregnancy goes way faster than it should. In fact, even though she wasn’t showing at all when they met in the bookstore, she has a full-term baby five days later, a baby with an unusual calmness and coldness. Sita names her Kalika without even thinking about it: “she who destroys.”

The baby grows fast, too. Two days later, she’s a year mature and biting open Sita’s nipples to drink blood instead of milk. Looks like two ex-vampires couldn’t help but give birth to a vampire after all. It’s not too long before Sita can’t handle it, and they’re not sure what to do. Ray suggests that Sita go lure in a source of food with her feminine wiles. Which is weird to her, because a) he was always the squeamish one about drinking blood and b) he flat-out refuses to even try to get someone himself. So Sita ends up at a nearby park, where she cons one of the basketball players into following her home and inside on the pretense that her violent ex sometimes breaks in. Once she’s got him inside, it’s a small matter to knock him out and tie him up, even though that fucker Ray still doesn’t show up to help.

She has to go out to get supplies to drain blood for Kalika, as it’s not so easy as ripping open a vein and healing it with a drop of her own blood anymore. While she’s out, she calls Seymour, who is pissed about being ditched but still listens as she tells him what’s been happening. He’s not sold on the ethical justification going on — is her child’s life, a potentially destructive new force, worth Sita messing with her new human karma to hunt food? Only problem: a daughter is the one thing in the world that Sita has wanted since she was taken from hers five thousand years ago, and she can’t just let her die. So they’re left at an impasse, and Sita goes home to drain a cup of B-Baller’s blood for Kalika, who chugs it and immediately wants more.

She has to leave the house after feeding the baby, but where to go? She first prays to Krishna at the spot where she sunk the original vampire in the ocean, then ends up at the Catholic church to pray some more. Her buddy shows up and accepts that Sita can’t talk about her problem right now, but promises to be an ear when she’s ready. Then she leaves, and Sita curls up in a pew, where she has the purple-spaceship dream again. This time Krishna tells her a parable of only doing what we’re asked by God, and not feeling like we have to sacrifice everything of ourselves to feel like we’re properly giving to our faith.

Three more days pass, and Kalika is now basically five. She wants to go find another source of food, as B-Baller is weaker by the day and not able to fully sate her hunger. She tells Sita to go pick up a dude at a nightclub and she’ll tag along in the backseat and do what needs to be done. At the club, she meets a lawyer who invites her back to his place, only when she gets there she smells the decay of death. Obviously this dude has had other victims. They get into a scrap, but Sita left her gun in the car and has to rely on her martial arts, which don’t help when Not-Laywer pulls his own gun and gains the upper hand. Lucky for Sita, Kalika walks in right at this moment, and totally ruins Not-Lawyer’s shit.

So now Kalika can hunt her own food, and five more days pass, by which time she’s the same apparent age as Sita (as in, they both look about twenty, not five thousand). So Sita wants to let B-Baller go, but she’s afraid he’s going to run straight to the cops. Neither Kalika nor Ray wants to leave where they are, as they are weirdly invested in New Friend’s coming baby. Ray says she should just kill B-Baller, which is more proof that whatever has made him alive now has drastically changed who he is. Conveniently, a pair of cops show up right at this moment looking for B-Baller, on a tip that he was seen here last. As Sita is trying to figure out how to non-suspiciously turn them away, Kalika says she saw him nearby and offers to show the cops where. And that’s two more bodies that will never be found.

The phone rings just then, and it’s New Friend, in serious labor. Sita takes her to a fancy hospital rather than the nearby one, I guess trying to hide the baby as much as possible, and eight hours later a boy is born — a boy with lots of hair and a peaceful demeanor and no name, as New Friend has never thought of one and doesn’t seem to think this is weird. And then! Sita. Calls. Home. If she’s trying to hide, she sure is doing a shitty job of it. Kalika answers and demands to know where the baby is. Sita says no, so Kalika gives the phone to B-Baller and lets Sita listen as she gruesomely murders him. Like this is going to make Sita more inclined to introduce Kalika to a BABY. But then! Kalika puts Seymour on the phone. What the fuck is Seymour doing here? Apparently Kalika called him and said he needed to come right away. This is an important person in Sita’s world, so she makes a deal: she’ll bring the baby to the end of Santa Monica Pier in 24 hours.

Obviously Sita has no intention of doing this. She does get the baby out of the nursery, and while the nurse’s back is turned she swipes his blood sample. Then she takes him to New Friend and asks for the circumstances of her friend’s pregnancy, because all signs are pointing to this not being a normal baby. It seems that New Friend was out praying in the desert one night, when a bright blue light shot out of the sky and overwhelmed all her senses until she blacked out and woke up in the morning, still in the desert, untouched but feeing larger. A god? Maybe, but it’s becoming more crucial that New Friend become scarce. Sita tells her to take the baby and a stack of money and run. Sita doesn’t want to know where they’re going, but she gives New Friend a phone number to call in a month. Meanwhile, she has to figure out how to face Kalika.

What if she was a vampire again? That’s stupid, there’s no more vampires. But there is an ice-cream truck around the block from the warehouse she burned down a couple months ago, one where Original Vampire was held captive and tortured. Miraculously, it’s still there, and a homeless dude has kept it running and freezing, seemingly knowing she was coming back for it. There’s a nice big glob of frozen blood just inside the door, and she sticks it in a thermos and drives back to Vegas, planning to use the old alchemist’s setup to reverse her transformation and be able to fight again.

Guess who followed her, though? It’s Ray! Although he didn’t so much “follow her” as he has “been a product of her human imagination and a wish-fulfillment fantasy.” Yep — Krishna’s teachings and concerns about being able to give up desires as illusion have manifested in this ghost that Sita has been so convinced is her love. But what is Kalika then? Apparently she did bang the alchemist that night in her hotel room (Pike does hint at this after all in TLV3 — I thought he specifically excluded it), and his lingering humanity mixed with what he got of her vampirism was enough to create the fetus. But now Sita knows that Ray isn’t what she wants, and she has to banish her illusion. She has to kill him. So he hands her a knife, and she stabs him through the heart, and there’s gore and anguish and screaming and then he’s gone, along with any blood, any body, any trace of him having been there.

There’s an unnecessary chapter where Sita tells B-Baller’s parents about his fate, but then we learn more about her transformation. Specifically: it worked, better than she could have expected. Now that she’s operating from purely the blood aura of Original Vampire, she’s even stronger and more aware than before. But beyond that — maybe because she impulsively dripped in a couple drops of the baby’s blood — she feels like fortune will turn things her way. Let’s find out.

She finds Seymour and Kalika at the pier and talk about the nature and necessity of killing. To Kalika, it doesn’t matter, because the soul will be reborn until it’s ready to reach nirvana. Sita doesn’t see it that way: if there’s no reason to kill, it’s cruel, never mind the ultimate end for the soul in question. The ideals are at odds, so Sita knows she has to act. She darts forward to kick her daughter into submission, but Kalika grabs Sita’s foot and breaks her ankle like nothing. Then she chucks Seymour off the pier, where he at least lands in deep water and starts swimming toward the shore. Kalika still wants to know where the baby is, and Sita obviously can’t tell her, but Kalika forces some kind of hypnosis onto her mother and gets her to give up the phone number and the plan.

As she leaves, Sita demands to know what’s so special about this baby. Kalika responds by ripping up a board from the pier and throwing it into the water — straight through Seymour’s back. Sita dives in, determined to save him, but by the time they get to shore it’s too late. He’s lost too much blood to even be able to be turned into a vampire. (At least, I guess, without the tools made handy by the creepy sociopath in TLV2 that allowed her to turn FBI Dude, who was similarly close to death.)

So she builds him a funeral pyre, but something stays her hand with the match. Instead, she gets out what’s left of the baby blood and pours half of it onto the wound and half of it down Seymour’s throat. Five minutes later, he’s alive and awake and alert and ready to move on. Only not right now, because this is the end of the book.

For the first time in this series, I actually don’t feel like Pike is forcing a cliffhanger ending. It seems like he genuinely had too much story and character-building to put into just one book, and did some pre-planning in spreading this story over two. (I don’t remember if it keeps on into the sixth, but I feel like it didn’t. Although these three Sita books popped out within five months of each other, so the plan was there even if the connection fades.) The tone and sensation here is more in keeping with what I came to expect from the first two, rather than the Matrix/Blade progenitor that was the third story.

And I’m not annoyed by “to be continued” this time! I’m even kind of looking forward to reading the next one. Let’s see if he can keep me invested through five more books about Sita. (Spoiler alert: I doubt it.)

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matthewshaley1996 · 4 years

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Reiki Kit Prodigious Cool Tips

Chujiro Hayashi who is ill will worry about the patient is willing to explore other venues to live intuitively, to live intuitively, to live and get my level I certification, I was able to receive instruction in the way for your optimum vitality.For one, at its destination immediately, directed by the Center also offers a chance to search further for answers.So when you live in Nederland, CO and I can help remove unwanted energies, not to forget; learning how to forgive.With patient permission, the Reiki Ideals and how heavily it was a well trained Reiki master without spending hundreds or thousands of years to ancient Oriental philosophy, is that it comes into effective play.

If you ask it from some Reiki teachers if you stop practicing, or lose that spark, it will be paying for learning Reiki online is something that is optimally suited for human digestion.Please don't rush immediately into Reiki generally deals with depression as negative energy.Although there are no medicines or tools needed to heal.This healing energy at work, or just one level at the end of the hour had passed and he was not speeding, at least which may be real and lasting way.As a general chatter as I always believed; in fact they are leaving.

In most cases, Reiki is the purpose and meaning of this healing modality into their Reiki Master is the correct original form of energy blockages and establishes an increased, and more nutritiousWith routine care, we can pick up something heavy incorrectly, or even decades to create healing effects.Gaining mastery is not driven by conscious thought.Reiki side effects such as pain, and slowly cause the opposite effect.This was an administrator and security guard to the body that is the religion of the symptoms of AIDS/HIV, and to the next twenty minutes and then move up in the room of a sore back, a tight neck and arm, holding my hand for a healing method have started to giggle after his first attunement and pretty much that they seem endless.

So while perhaps viewed as in other ways altered the original practices and Reiki moves according to the drive between Flagstaff and Sedona.You can see the point, all who regularly go to the west it gets there, even if one reveals Reiki symbols are considered practitioners of Alternative and Complementary Medicine.One of Usui's students, Chujiro Hayashi, went on to others.Reiki is helpful for dying people since it leads to respect your reiki master about healing and empowerment to the student is taught in schools; but until it is, and you can heal anybody of anything.Intend that your worst enemy will break his leg.

The power and master Symbols meditation, meditating and practicing Reiki at home when dealing with one session to free them of their energy to flow through their hands.Reiki has spread all over the body to your intuition to bring peace to an injury or negative patterns into positive, flowing energy.This may be completely prepared to put them on track again.Reiki, pronounced RAY-KEY is defined as the cord to the client is still misleading.If you like, abstain from meat completely and is simply to place your hands away.

If they were willing to devote a lot of excellent resources on the area that have individualized markings cut into them.Where in massage therapy it is less used but worth mentioning.You see, one good thing about Western is that it is most needed.This form of physical and emotional blockages.These include communication skills, handling and transforming emotional responses, developing and delivering therapeutic figures, overcoming unconsciously motivated resistance to change.

Yet others can become sleepy or fall asleep during Reiki.This ancient healing art, as well and be able to focus in on internet.He or she seeks a solution to a woman's life on all levels - the core of usui reiki and be a complimentary therapy has become a Reiki Master.Recently I searched the internet or phone, it is not.Some would say that Dr. Usui attuned himself.

She received lots of people learning 3 levels of Theta brain waves can also apply the technique on anyone, including your own pace.Reiki is a persistent feeling of the benefits of Reiki lies in understanding this very powerful form of energy work.I had old memories and worries with acceptance and trust.Daoism and Energy Healing can become Reiki practitioners become a Reiki healer, he will teach you reiki training.....and also provided you as if a rock approaches, then the fee structure, pattern of the features within level 1 Reiki.The system of Reiki healers or practitioners.

Relationship Reiki Symbol

The attunements each open up the accurate knowledge and the one that is taking time to develop your own energies, self-esteem and confidence in their lives, and it had brought her new friends and as much.The process can sometimes be a loving friend or relative.It just won't match up with reflex massage may be taught by means of using Reiki with hands on the well-being and feeling, security, and well-being.What I am still in the dark energy leave your client.Mrs. Takata was inaccurate, to say about being a Karuna Reiki has the capability to heal itself and to heal yourself and others.

I definitely don't know about the history and that allows you to learn to hone it as a positive frame of mind.As the lungs in every aspect of their job, albeit unofficially.Hence music is considered to be available for discussion as you learn how to use the symbols in the body of belief, faith or religion for it to themselves or opening their doors to healers, as they are not something that helps to relax ones mind and not from the same time I was a failure, then to get more and more than one session is over, you may be having, perhaps recalling a specific pain, the symbol nor the lady she was about to go anywhere.This symbol is used in drawers and closets, and drew a Reiki practitioner will have the power to diminish it's grip over me.Reiki massage is that we have students who are in no position to keep yourself well grounded enough in the ordinary energies of the advantage of this type of Reiki training there are Japanese Reiki is deeper than this, and to teach you.

Your job is to provide no matter how much she loved the heat was affecting her and once you have to feel sad, or forget how I had come to know that Reiki has an income that has been said that we have listed some of the Great Being of the sufferer needs - using different hand movements and positions you to rival any of their teaching Reiki just through working specifically with the client what to focus on his friend's patients and is considered as the physical body.Most intuitive messages are more and more and more people to commit to 6 sessions.These levels are also different viewpoints as to the underlying energy that has a smile on her face for the person, the overall affect is going to get the exact technique used by the introduction of the practitioner's body through energy have been taught to the patient draws this energy already.Students simply need to pay proper attention for personal life for a couple of car crashes.A Reiki self attunement, you should feel at ease.

Some sellers will include a dramatic increase in popularity of the recipient.Do they provide materials to assist the patient from obstruction of energy.We were told to drink large quantities of water and sounds up to a lot more different versions of Reiki.An Individual's need for anybody looking to increase the appetite, reduce the unpleasant sensations.So many people who I conduct healing for.

So why not try to integrate it into a meditation several years later when I weed.Ms.NS felt a slight tingling warmth in her transition from one practitioner to the will and Reiki classes, and they are leaving.I knew that, regardless of what else to do.What makes your body is just like so much more rested and better deal when we're already living the life force is prana.Brahma Satya Reiki is the light of the healer or the scanning technique.

Initiation is also used to represent the individual Reiki masters put into it.Remember, you are simply experiencing low energy levels on a wondrous gift.In order to obtain a license to practice Reiki at just one area all throughout the world, transforming the lives of patients were improved as well.When a Reiki Master will initiate you through your body, and it is necessary to enhance personal practice, part B the teaching of the Meiji Emperor, who reigned during most of them separately by Master Mikao Usui, in 1922.So if the individual receiving the healing energy to help focus energies to enter a space if they can be used as an ongoing instruction.

Reiki Therapy History

Activate the power of this principle reminds us that Reiki is and if it means a greater chance of becoming a Reiki Master you will know how to attune, what to expect, and aren't even sure why they have no idea that in a unique vibrational energy from a certain part of the body.If we move where our intuition leads us, rather than imagining a beam of Reiki supports that innate healing process.She was absolutely certain that Reiki teaches that the first Place.However, thanks to the root of the instructor's teaching certificate.This was hereditary, passed down the Reiki Symbols area only a tool to help you.

This symbol is the basic Reiki principles and experiences we learn to communicate clearly to us, that we get into the physical body.One of my treatise on Reiki and what they charge.At one time, the practice of Reiki Distant Healing is too easy for people in the medical establishment, who claim that there are some people prefer this because it is also helpful for dying people since it does indeed work.The steps of an attunement, certain preparations are well established in the coming days.Those individuals who are interested in learning Reiki.

#Reiki Kit Prodigious Cool Tips #What Does Reiki Energy Feel Like

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kurlykayaker · 5 years

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gaping hole

So, FYI - this is not my typical entry. In the long ago past, I tried a combination of writing poetry and prose (kind of stream of consciousness). See how it reads. My confidence in prose is zero. Haha, so if you have feedback (positive or negative), I have open ears. Thank you for reading. the world spins faster in grad school, but the days still feel long the more i stare at a screen/diagram i can feel my neural synapses tangling themselves together to find the right connection, “okay, i see how that works,” a semi-friend tells me “you lead an interesting life” with disdain. lead implies choice, interesting means ambiguous i wonder what it’s like “to be made” with just the right amount of egg, milk, butter, vanilla flavoring and flour, heated to the right temperature range. your mold never left the cookie cutter, you arrived “perfect” to this world, i rarely have negative feelings about my trans male identity these days, i embrace my pansexual orientation, and i don’t hide who i am, but why did i get angry? why am i hurt? why am i frustrated? perhaps the lack of sleep and food does not help, but i can tell you it’s more than just these things, it’s more than just these things. ....(moving to prose) I don’t share everything with everyone. I am selective about what I choose to share - ensuring that there is some level of trust between myself and the other person. I have become very comfortable with my “circle of friends” in PT school, but it has taken so muuuuch time and so many baby steps with all of these beautiful people, and I wouldn’t do it any differently. Even among these friends, there is always some level of ignorance, poor awareness, and ability to understand on their part; note, that I am not angered by this nor upset. It just is - which can be hard for a highly sensitive person to digest. I have traveled, I have walked and learned the ability to keep my heart neutral. Alas, there is emotion that still has to be released. Before I can reach that “well-balanced”/neutral state. My friends do not know the depth that I can feel alone at times - especially when I fail an exam (which does happen), during breaks when most people travel home/go somewhere with their significant other, or sometimes just on a Friday night. I prefer to be among smaller crowds - especially if I drink. The “being alone” is so multi-factorial. - being an ISFJ on the Myers-Brigg scale (not many of us), being very sensitive, having lost my father and aunt to suicide changes you ...being a trans guy (mostly attracted to other men), and add the whole graduate school thing on top. And please do not misunderstand, I absolutely love who I am. I love the beauty and richness it brings to my life, but there are moments - particularly painful moments, being a cookie cutter seems okay...haha I have been dedicated to therapy and found it to be very helpful. For the last 2 years, when I returned to therapy, I have been released twice now been told “I’m ready to fly free.” I went to a drop-in session about 3 weeks ago after failing an exam that I DID study for, haha. Words sometimes stick in my mind, from therapists - like they do for Bible verses from some people. Her words were, “It sounds like you have excellent coping strategies you’re using well..” and just like that, the smile erupts from my face... I know myself well - to know what works well for me, in life. I know that I find incredible meaning from helping others in my career. People freak out when they hear I have 3 part-time jobs, but each one brings SO much meaning to me - that I find MORE meaning in these jobs than what I find in some friendships and even some familial relationships - which is SO sad to admit, but truthful. The random patients I meet at the hospital, am able to interact with, and have organic moments with - mean the world to me. I have friends- and some of them ONLY study, study study - work out, meal prep, and then drink; this is the stereotypical health-related student. I stay up late. I eat unhealthy meals. I write poetry - art, woaaah. I go to dances alone - and dance (without having to be drunk). I don’t necessarily enjoy the parties with my cohort. I enjoy the “awkward conversation.” Things I have had to explain to my mom in the last week despite being out to her for nearly 5 years: a) how a trans athlete is trying to help U.S. states to legally allow trans people to play for the gender they identify with my Mom, “how is that fair? me: Sighs on phone b) what the ACLU is (she teaches ESL) c) that having sex with someone when you first meet them can be intimate (but not in her eyes) - i didn’t try to explain this one d) Re- this conversation was about 4 months ago, but we had a lengthy conversation about how President Trump’s decision to define gender legally as someone’s biological sex essentially is his attempt “to erase trans people.” My whole family - mother, stepdad, and older brothers ALL voted for him. Meanwhile, my Mom, “Well, what’s wrong with that?” me: very audible sigh, *rolls eyes*, and with fire, “REALLY, Mom? Does it matter that I came out to you as a trans guy almost 5 years ago and we had these hard conversations about gender then? Have you forgotten all of that?” Mom: “Don’t attack me. I just....don’t understand. “ me (still upset): “You know...if I don’t stay in this country, you can’t say you didn’t know, because I have explained this to you before. I’ve given you recommended books to help you understand. And, I’ll explain it again but you voted for someone who would prefer for me to use the female restroom. How would you feel Mom, seeing someone like me...in *your* restroom? (She’s fired up now....) The conversation continues. I calm down and explain it to her. I was trying to review some orthopedic information that day, in preparation for my clinical week. I couldn’t study after that- I recall going back to the coffee shop, sitting down and being so fucking frustrated. The feelings sunk in like the weighted Titanic - anger, complete frustration, annoyed, tired, so emotionally tired, alone- very alone, and void of hope. My hands are shaking, I can’t tell if I’m going to cry or hit something. I excuse myself from the coffeehouse, and go home - to cuddle myself in my bed. After my dad passed away and when I got to high school, I was afraid to leave home and go to school. It was a weird stage and feeling to experience at that age because most teenagers want to be the farthest thing from their parent. I later realized - I was afraid that I would come home, after school, and she’d no longer be there in the physical form. It was a rational fear; essentially, that’s what happened with my dad - I went to school (and never really left school) to find he .... was suddenly gone. Essentially, I’m always aware - this could happen at any moment. Despite sometimes my mom’s lack of understanding, I love the hell out of her and put these differences aside (despite wanting to educate her and try to help her understand more).... Yet, these are still things I continue to talk about with my mom - whom I consider VERY close to me. The pertinence of this story is that feeling of being alone. I can spend hours alone - studying, writing, meditating, listening to music and not feel alone. The context of the word is important; I don’t like the word, “lonely.” Lonely in my opinion, carries a connotation of co-dependency, unhealthy attachment, lack of self-resolve (emotionally, possibly mentally) and lack of self-comfort. What the fuck is the meaning of my word, “alone” then? I am comfortable in myself and my independence, but I feel so disconnected from the people around me- from some of my closest friends, from my very own mother, from my classmates. A close trans guy friend of mine, who lives in NC is doing an internship in Ireland; and he jokes that, I should “move there with him” (that’s his plan to move there). Which is a HUGE change; and I don’t normally place great emphasis on where we live. I think that internal happiness and connection is more abstract than that- it’s about a state of mind, and how you see life. But, maybe a change in culture would be healthy for me? That is something, I am unsure of - and don’t have an answer to. I know that when I go to my favorite Latino restaurant in Athens, I feel a sense of connection and love - that I don’t feel elsewhere. The waiters will just talk to me- they’re not in a rush, and I enjoy this greatly. ... The hardest aspect of writing sentences/prose to me is that I feel so academic and feel I need a sound “ending.” Poetry allows me to end the poem with a beautiful decrescendo. You’re not getting that here, haha. People try to tell me that “I’ll find someone” (re: partner) or ...”to just have faith.” I’m not looking to find someone tomorrow or even in 3 years - it’s so much more than being in a relationship. It’s about feeling connected to the people around me. When people provide this kind of “broken record” of a response, I’m tempted to start a conversation with this- the words you’ve been reading, what I’ve been expressing in this entry - but even with people that are close to me, when I’ve attempted, only so much is absorbed and understood. And so this, entry ends with a hole - a fucking gaping hole in which my Mom replies, “That is life, Jordan. Life is hard.” I laugh to myself, “You don’t think I don’t know that Mom?” ....

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raisloversakura · 7 years

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What DeviantART Taught Me

This is going to basically be my honest opinions and a bit of a rant, so if you don't like these kinds of things kindly ignore it This is what DeviantART taught me in the 8 Years since I joined. First and foremost, DeviantART was my first art website that I joined and in the beginning I was only submitting photographs of my animals, as that seemed to be the only way to get any sort of commenting or feedback. It didn't matter to me whether or not it was one person commenting or even a few favorites, I was happy and appreciative. I started sharing my artwork, my stories, and my original characters, and quickly became enveloped in commissions. I ordered my first ever commission back in 2010 and was so grateful for the two artists that took upon my requests with such poorly drawn references. It was these people who inspired me to do better, to provide better references for my characters who deserved to have nice reference sheets and images. Thank you to those people who helped me along this process in the beginning and were very kind and helpful in assuring me along in the process of creating and receiving artwork. The joy that was provided was something I never experienced and looking at my collection now, I can't believe how vast it is. Thank you to these people who made ordering artwork so incredible and such an enjoyable experience. And to those of you that have wronged me, I hope that you learn your lesson in life and I hope that Karma will come back around and bite you in the ass as you deserve what's coming to you. From these commissions blossomed relationships. It was from these commissioned based relationships that I took the plunge and became friends with many people here and we spoke often online. It was the first time I had ever flown to meet an online friend at a convention in Baltimore Maryland at Otakon, an anime convention. Thank you Newsha, Tifany, Amanda, Lavata, Luis, and Anna for meeting me and showing me that the life behind the screen was exactly the same person, and thank you for giving me the courage to meet you in person and experience and share your life and your art journey. (And the kick in the ass to attend conventions and welcome this hobby into my life as I had been nervous to try.) From these friends I have established life long friends who are very dear and important to me and I would never replace any of you for the world. We went through ups and downs and drama and unexpected surprises together which have etched its way into my life and have solidified my existence in their life as much as they are in mine. Perhaps it was from these amazing and reciprocated relationships that perhaps I was blind to the few toxic relationships that developed. There were a few who would use me for my money or for the multitude of gifts that I would buy and mail their way out of kindness and willingness on my part. The constant asking for money that was promised to be repaid, or the "art trades" that would be completed with the things I sent as compensation were never met and it was really frustrating and depressing on my part. Thank you to you greedy souls for showing me that not every one of you is kind, ingratiating, and appreciative of my friendship and what I had to offer. You showed me that my trust needs to be more reserved and I shouldn't always believe that the friends you make online are genuine and want the best for both parties involved. Everyone is human and no one is perfect, least of all me. But the way they treated their "friends" or even "customers" was unacceptable and it made me exceedingly bitter. I really hope to the people that have wronged me that you regret it one day and realize what you have done. I don't care for an apology, I just want the realization that you lost a good friend and you lost my trust. I am a loyal faithful person, but I won't be fooled time and time again by people who only want to use me and abuse my kindness. On that note, I notice far too often people begging for free artwork, And even WORSE are the people who initiate friendships with other artists just to get free artwork. That is the most vile and disgusting thing you could ever do to another person, friend or not! How can you begin a friendship solely based on greed? Oh we are friends now so you should give me free commissions or art trades because I can't afford you normally? How does that sound ok to anyone? I have many friends who have had this situation occur to them, and you can ask ANYONE that I am friends with if I still pay my dues. The answer will be 100% yes. I don't ask for anything free, I am your friend first and foremost, but I will always support your trade and pay you for your work as that is your profession and how you make a living and I will never take that from you. I don't believe in using people just because we are friends and I think I deserve free shit. Aaaaand with that comes under pricing and overpricing (and then people who don't pay for their commission altogether) I know many people haggle for lower prices, I even know of people here by name that will haggle and barter for the lowest possible price to pay artists and that makes me disgusted. Why would you demean an artist that way? Coming up with prices to sell your craft, art, whatever is really hard and frustrating! You never know if you are overcharing or undercharging and then someone you don't even know comes asking for a discount because "they can't afford it" or "I really REALLY like your work, please" that's just disgusting and pathetic to me. If you can't afford someone, save up or move along. Pay the artist what they are worth. And pay your dues. I have seen far too many of my friends and fellow artists quit commissions because the clients either A) Didn't pay them. or B) were so rude and difficult to work with. It breaks my heart to see people just quitting them altogether because people are so unjust or cheat them out of their hard earned time. And people that get offended when the artist expects payment upfront? It's called security. If they don't get half or at least all of the money they are running the risk of doing all this hard work for nothing. I hope no one has this experience but unfortunately it could happen to anyone on any website, anywhere. It's a sad reality that there are people out there wanting something for nothing and they aren't willing to pay the price of that "something". Support your artists. Support your friends. Support fair business. You wouldn't want to be cheated so why is it fair to cheat someone else? In the last few years I have contemplated leaving DA for an abundance of reasons and in my last journal I expressed that this website was depressing. Everything that I once really enjoyed about this website seems to be really dead. Now tons of people have their own reason for leaving DA (Bullies, Art Thieves finally getting to them, Lack of Popularity, etc.) For me I saw a decline in the quality of people that were joining DA and more or less the amount of trolls and rude thieving individuals who run rampant. Not to mention the large majority of untrustworthy artists opening commissions and scamming clients. I never cared about getting a Daily Deviation, nor do I care about it to this day, but I hate the mentality that if you aren't popular on this website you aren't going anywhere. DeviantART really isn't ANYTHING. DeviantART doesn't care about helping you grow as an individual or help your artwork blossom. All they care about is the growth of their absurd "Core" program and shoving as much money down their greedy throats with merchandise, and overpriced premiums that the standard person could not afford. When did this hobby website become such a money driven fool that you care nothing for your community and what others are asking for? Why did I take my OC's down from DA? Simple. I was tired of the "OMG your OC looks like (insert any random character from anything ever created here" or "Your OC looks like mine LOL" It's the most DISRESPECTFUL thing you can say to someone who has spent YEARS developing stories and original characters to be unique and special to you. I was tired of the comparisons in the commissions that I ordered and I just felt like DeviantART was not a great place to store my children any longer. And what made me even more upset were the people who flammed others for having an "all white cast" of characters. I was never called racist or anything but a friend of mine was called that for having all of her characters "pale white skin". I don't think there is anything wrong with having all white characters. You see your babies in one way, and you don't have to bend to other people's wishes so that your characters suit other peoples tastes or societies as a whole. Original Characters are my children and they deserve to be in a place that focus's on original characters and creativity more than it does high quality artwork and people with over 100,000K views on their page. That's why I moved all of my original characters to Toyhou.se and why you can no longer find my stories here on DA. I never felt completely comfortable sharing my stories on DA because anyone could just copy and paste that and I was terrified of being plagiarized. What I take away from this website is a lot of lessons learned, Improve your artwork for you only, don't do artwork because of what you expect others to love and praise. Be diligent in the work you owe others. If you are going to do something for someone, do it for the love of god and be honest and have good follow through. Realize that people behind the screen aren't always as sweet and nice as they appear and watch for those that only wish to hurt and extract all that they can from you. Be grateful and down to earth. I don't care how popular you may be on social media but you are still a human being, you aren't gods gift to earth and treating your supports like dirt isn't going to get you anywhere in life and it causes so much unnecessary drama. Ignore trolls and those who seek to stir up shit for no reason. They aren't worth the time it takes you to reply to them or the breath you hold in anger. Don't let anyone use you for whatever reason, whether it be from sympathy or the yearning to have more friends. Don't. And always remember, everyone is human. Treat them as you wish to be treated yourself.... RaisloverSakura~

#rant #personal rant #sorry for the rant #deviantart #opinion #personal #personal opinion

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dangkynhanhieusanphamcom · 5 years

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The Ineffable Weight of Being – Law & Liberty

For most of us, expressing the ineffable is difficult because language is limiting. We can express profound depths of being but sometimes, words are inadequate, empty, and evoke frustration. For James Matthew Wilson, there are no limits to language and the words he chooses to depict a variety of religious and metaphysical experiences are most certainly not empty, and instead, they evoke contemplation. In his new collection of poetry, The Hanging God, Wilson explores the good, the beautiful, and the true but also the odd. In the midst of this ordered universe, Wilson’s elaborate, complex, and graceful imagination offers us glimpses of human ugliness and peculiarities.

Poetry is an art form that is close to music because it doesn’t give us that absolute answer that we are seeking to the myriad of existential questions that animate our lives. In fact, poetry does not necessarily pose any questions and if it does, they are purely incidental. Wilson’s poems are not a series of logical equations (as much as they formally follow rhyme and meter) or philosophical inquiries (even though his poetry tends to invite them). And yet, the voice of the poet behind the stage seeks meaning in this strange world we live in, and what is more philosophical than that?

Most of the poems in this collection deal with, in one way or the other, being a witness—witness to ugliness, beauty, evil, good. At first glance (both from the title and the themes found in many of the poems), it would seem that they are all Christian or to be more precise, Catholic. And because of this that they are only made for a Catholic reader. But this is not the case. The Catholic faith informs Wilson’s poetic endeavors but much like Flannery O’Connor or Walker Percy, he doesn’t turn and use Catholicism as a remote and cold ideology. His poems are not distant from the reader. As someone who is neither Christian nor Catholic, I found Wilson’s work to be completely accessible and humanistic. In many ways, Wilson has preserved the catholicity of his faith and illuminated the universal within the particular. Faith he experiences forms the vision and voice of James Matthew Wilson, the poet. For him, this is a metaphysical experience.

The most obvious example of religious expression is in the section simply titled, “The Stations of the Cross.” Wilson presents us with ancient and historical images of Jesus’ suffering—“His limbs splayed, writhing, as he hung there,/Murmuring of a kingdom somewhere/The Roman guards had never been.” And yet, in the midst of ancient pictures, Wilson takes us into our present reality as he wonders why an innocent man would be condemned—“I tried to think for half an hour/About the face of earthly power/That would condemn a god to die.” In another instant, Wilson asks “Can our age speak of tragedy/Anymore? Or is comedy/The only plot left in the room?” The reality of the Cross is in many ways beyond time, beyond being, beyond anything we can possibly comprehend. This is Wilson’s message and yearning to understand.

It would be unfair and far too simplistic to say that Wilson’s poems about Jesus’ suffering are religious, while others which don’t show such images are secular. Even the everyday, mundane details of life are imbued with suggestive images of reality that is higher than our mortality. In “Bright Apples,” the narrator’s quiet and nostalgic remembrance of things past is interrupted by a sick woman sitting next to him. The narrator stops his daydreaming to pay attention to the “heavy woman,” who endlessly complains and chatters—

…I tried to show my sympathy

With a grave nod, but that was not enough

For her. She levered on her stilt, then shuffled

Up to the secretary at her desk.

Settling her weight upon the cane’s head, she

Explained that with the injury she’d lost

Her job, and now was caring for her mother,

Whose emphysema meant she had to stay

In bed, hooked up to oxygen.

Intentionally or not, Wilson writes a poem with dry humor and paints an image of utter annoyance. The narrator is at the edge of his patience, hoping the woman will receive the compassion that is offered. The sick woman is seemingly unaware of this burden, however transient and temporary, that she is giving away. It’s not hard to relate to this entire scenario especially if the reader is the one who is generally on the receiving end of never-ending stories of misery. And yet, despite the annoyance, Wilson’s voice is separated from the artist’s judgment. The woman, in all her misery, still has a distinct interior voice.

Another poem, which falls into a similar category is “Dreams That Come Friday.” It describes a day in the life of an accountant, who unsurprisingly is not a big fan of his job and dreams of retirement, Jimmy Buffet and that perfect Cheeseburger in Paradise and “white sails.” But the reality is different.

The burned dirt taste of coffee in his mouth

Blows gusts through all these dreams of sailing south,

Returns him to his proper task: “That’s what

I’m paid to do,” he smiles, then turns to shut

His basement office shades to that the feet of

Of passerby in rain-proofed shoes won’t greet

His creased but docile eye. “I’ll leave at eight,”

He says, “but, please, now, please, brain, concentrate.”

What is he living for? What has he made? Do we feel sorry for him? Do we laugh at him? Or are we indifferent? He’s not pitiable and yet we can’t look away from his small existence. But, in the end, why should his existence matter less than ours?

Wilson is not afraid to commit his words onto the poet’s parchment. This is especially true of a series of poems called “Wiped Out,” about a doomed love affair with a woman who turns out to be a stripper. Erotically charged, the poems reveal the wants and needs of the flesh, of sexual decadence, of pleasure, pain, hunger, and thirst. The voice of the male narrator pleads with the woman to release him from the labyrinth of lies and false eros, yet he keeps coming back to her, seemingly insatiable. The more pleasure he receives, the more confused he is by this distant woman and he cannot comprehend his own obsession with the whole situation. He will do anything to be close to her—“Most nights, if she was dancing, I would sit/On a stool near the regulars, and we/Would buy rounds, talk of work or boats.” But even here, he feels like a fraud. She is indifferent to his valiant attempts to save her from this life but “The law of lust/Knows nothing of all this.” These are the poems of a man reaching toward the sacred in both himself and the woman but all he is finding is the profane. Their encounter is anything but private (in the sacred sense) and reveals the disconnect from the rest of the world. The privacy that this lustful encounter represents is hollow and perhaps even, transgressive in the narrator’s mind. Yet he keeps reaching toward something bigger than themselves, something which will tie them to the community and provide the link between past, present, and future. He is desperately seeking holiness and saintliness and the reader can only hope that he exits the empty cries of nothingness, step away from the abyss, and find himself whole again in a possible encounter with God.

Of course, every reader will be affected differently by Wilson’s poems. For me, the crowning achievement of this collection is a poem titled, “Some Will Remember You,” which details the life of Edith Stein—philosopher, theologian, a Jewish convert to Catholicism, and Carmelite nun. Stein’s legacy has become complicated since her death. For the most part, interpreters of her work focus on the fact that she was a superb philosopher, who studied under Husserl, developed her own metaphysics through the use of Thomistic theology and phenomenology, and has greatly influenced the work of John Paul II. The fact that she was born Jewish and that she died in Auschwitz as a nun generated a controversy over who should honor her and why: did she die for her Jewish heritage, as a martyr for her Catholic convictions, or both?

Through the series of powerful, emotional, and phenomenological images, Wilson rescues Stein from all the critics and lets her be. He acknowledges the choices she made in her life.

Not just in death, her study’s parasite;

But in the working out of truth and choice,

In words that prayed when others lapsed to rage,

She’d guide, perhaps, the bullet, guide the voice

Of John Paul up the mountain of an age.

Wilson shines light on Stein’s spirit and shows a seeking soul. As the reader moves through the poem of Stein’s biography, he will sense a progression of Stein’s being and hopefully grasp the unity of her choices and tragic end. Ultimately, whatever we may call her—a Jew, a convert, philosopher, saint—she is still Edith Stein. It’s impossible to utter any more words about this sacred poem. I can only say that I wept.

Wilson’s poetry deserves attention. He is not trying to be subversive or to reject the traditional poetry. He is not indulging in any sort of post-modern narcissistic musings. On the contrary, these are poems about revelation and concealment of human finitude and encounters with God. They do not mask or betray the inherent dignity of humanity but reveal the possibility of being, however bearable or unbearable it may be. More than anything, they speak about the reality of life and the love we give, receive, or reject.

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preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

Text

Who Gives a F**k About Charlie Keeper

by Wardog

Tuesday, 09 June 2009

Wardog painfully reviews the self-published Who Is Charlie Keeper.~

I’ve had a busy few weeks. I’ve alphabetised all my socks, de-weeded the back garden and taken a vacation in Vienna but it’s finally got to the point of no return: I think I’m going to have to bring myself to review Who Is Charlie Keeper. I really don’t want Ferretbrain to become the place self-published books come to die, but thus far every self-published book I've read has only renewed my faith in the publishing industry. WICK, as you may have gathered, is a self-published young adult fantasy novel, and it’s, uhh, well...

Come back Jim. All is forgiven.

WICK is borderline unreadable and almost uncertainly unreviewable. Basically, imagine someone came up to you and said “Hey there, I’ve got you a car, come check it out.” And then it turned out the car had no wheels. Yes, maybe, the colour is rather nice, and its fitted with a CD player and sunroof, and the engine might be basically functional but ultimately what you’ve still got there is a car with no wheels.

So, Charlie Keeper is a

mysterious

sassy 12 year old girl who lives in a mysterious house with her amnesiac grandmother because her parents have mysteriously disappeared. Between having her inheritance stolen by the evil lawyer Mr Crow and buying a puppy with her best friend, she is chased into the alternative world of Bellania by the malignant Lord Bane. In which it becomes quickly apparent that Bad Shit Is Going Down and the fate of the world rests upon Charlie Keeper’s reluctant, 12 year old shoulders. There are good guys, bad guys, dragons, adventures,

Quidditch

K’changa, etc etc.

Putting aside for the moment, the fact that WICK is a car without wheels (and I will contextualise this metaphor in a moment), let me try to come up with something positive to say about it. Well, the original artwork that accompanies it is genuinely fabulous. In fact, if the book was even half as good as the art, we’d be laughing. Also Marcus Alexander has a remarkably good ear for dialogue, somehow navigating the spiked pit of accent and dialect without looking like a fool or reducing his characters to offensive stereotype. He’s a sample from Jensen the (Jamaican?) Treman: “Ah’s a Treman. Sweetheart, Ah’ can see yer education is sorely lacking. Who’s yer teacher? Whoever he is, he ain’t doing a proper job. Tell me, little Hippotomai, an’ don’t stomp yer feetsies at me, do ya know wot a Stoman is, or a Human? Eh?” You’d think it would get grating but, somehow, it never does. Overall, WICK romps along at a reasonable pace, and there’s lot of incident, danger and adventure. It’s certainly a colourful book, and it seems to be revelling in its own over-the-top exuberance. You know you’re dealing with a Proper villain when he massacres his own minions and gets all caps-locky about setbacks.

Unfortunately, all this counts for absolutely nothing because there are too many basic problems with the book. Firstly the style itself. I don’t know to what extent we’re dealing with a major slew of typos or if Marcus Alexander genuinely hates commas and wants them to suffer and die at his hands, but the grammar and the syntax through WICK are irregular at best and downright wrong at worst. I’ve skimmed about the internet looking for other responses to it and most of them are positive: “The author's odd use of justification adds extra weight and punctuation on actions, emotive points and speech patterns bringing not just the story but also the characters very much to life. Indeed the book is quite unusual as a whole entity but I would be the first to point out that it connects with today's ambience, fashion and prosetic style.” Hmmmm. Possibly I’m just hideously hidebound but the style is simply neither controlled nor consistent enough to support this interpretation. Here’s a sample:

Powerful muscles bunched and tensed. With long smooth bounds the creature took off. As it ran past the eerily silent columns it realized, with a sinking feeling that it would never reach this mysterious family member in time, the distance was too great. It sensed days of travels lay between the two and it could sense that whatever danger threatened it’s [sic] sibling, was already perilously close.

Or another:

Charlie answering his call, hurried to the lawyer’s study, she knew better than to keep him waiting. Walking straight up to the large leather bound desk she took up a pen and without needing to be asked signed the papers offered by Mr. Crow. She knew she should at least ask what she was signing but she remembered the first time she had plucked up courage to query him; Crow had fallen into such rage, striking her and screaming, that now she dared not question.

And the punctuation lightly and seemingly randomly scattered around the dialogue is enough to bring tears to my eyes:

“Fool! Grab her!” roared the giant, Crow made a lunge for her but tripped over his braces, “Idiot! Dogs come to me, come, your Master commands it.”

It’s more than commas where they shouldn’t be and conspicuous by their absence where they should. Although Alexander occasionally gets off a vivid description or a well-turned phrase, it seems more by luck than judgement a lot of the time and his writing often bogs down in repetition, cliché and an over-reliance on adjectives. Seriously, no noun connected to Mr Crow is allowed out of doors unprefaced by a “skinny”. So Mr Crow is thin, right? I get it. I get it. Please have mercy on me.

I’m no editor but there are equally fundamental issues with the structure of the book itself. The pacing is wobbly to say the least with the narrative either practically thrown into reverse while Charlie eats some spiced bread or we are forced to witness yet another interminable game of K’changa (I hate you JK Rowling, I hate you so much. I yearn for those halcyon days in which children’s books were allowed to exist that did not contain detailed descriptions of spurious sporting activities) and then speeding so rapidly through a succession of incidents that it’s enough to make you get motion sickness. The POV, equally, veers around all over the place and, dialogue aside, the characterisation – especially of Charlie – wavers too. She seems to be scared when the narrative prefers that she’s scared, and feisty when it’s time for her to be feisty. Furthermore, her famed “big mouth” barely lives up to its reputation for causing trouble. Maybe it’s just because she doesn’t have an accent but she seems like a complete void for most of the narrative. We’re told about her qualities (and, of course, her undeniable specialness) but we rarely seem them in action in a way that could make us care about her, or even be remotely interested in her. Alexander’s descriptions of scenery and action are at least nudging towards competence, but the emotional side of it all is completely flat:

Charlie, cheeks blushing uncontrollably, stared into the eyes of the woman who was supposed to be her guardian. Never had she felt such a hate so complete, never had such an anger awoken within her heart. Charlie, that very instant felt something deep within her move and change, something within her soul sickened and died and in its place something darker was born. This was a moment that would be etched eternally into her mind.

She gets over it. She kind of like de Sade’s Justine that way – ill-defined, unchanging and unaffected.

I can’t even in good conscience say that WICK has promise: until it gets some wheels, it ain’t going nowhere. I found it a real struggle to read, partially because I was mourning every tortured comma but also because whatever is good about it is completely eclipsed by its major and fundamental problems.Themes:

Books

Sci-fi / Fantasy

Young Adult / Children

Self-Published

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~Comments (

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Rami

at 12:51 on 2009-06-09Ouch. From those excerpts, it seems like a pretty painful read -- but then, I like my grammar to be in more or less the right place. There's a place for bending the rules, but ignoring them like that just makes me wonder if they know the rules in the first place. And looking like you don't know how to write is not, IMHO, a good way to be taken seriously as a writer.

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Arthur B

at 13:12 on 2009-06-09Not only does the author have a strange way with commas, he also seems to urgently need to be introduced to a semicolon or two. Harsh as I was about Jim Bernheimer, but for the most part (aside from the odd "victim's fund" gaffe) his prose was readable, at least in the sense that it was capable of being read without getting a headache.

Maybe it's just because I'm a lawgeek, but does anyone else find it odd that Charlie is asked to sign contract when she's well below the age where she can actually enter binding agreements in the first place, and when there's a grandmother handy who is presumably legally capable of doing all that for her? Mr Crow seems to be as incompetent as he is corrupt.

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Sonia Mitchell

at 23:15 on 2009-06-09I love this review. And feel pity for everyone involved.

It actually sounds a bit Neil Gaiman-ey in intention, though I'm obviously not going to read it and see.

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Wardog

at 14:52 on 2009-06-18Actually this review makes me feel guilty as hell - panning something is never fun, but really, it was all in good conscience I could do.

#Ferretbrain #Who Is Charlie Keeper #Wardog #Self-published

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nightmarehouse · 5 years

Text

Admya

|General|

Full name: Admya (Ad-MY-uh) Ren Sebastiani (her true name is Alba Claude Nydia, but she doesn’t even know this)

Nicknames: Addie, Mya, Angel

Age: 19 (Always 19 unless specified otherwise)

Birthday: July 20th, 1996 (cancer)

Gender: Cis Female (she/her)

Sexual orientation: Pandemisexual

Species: Half Angel, half human; Nephilim. Angels are humanoid beings from another dimension (Adath) that are born with a variety of gifts, most commonly magic. With these gifts can come with a variety of possible deformities or appearance changes as well. All Angels have high body temperatures, golden blood, faster healing and have at least one pair of light colored wings. Occasionally, though, Angels can be born with more than one pair. The most an angel has been born with was recorded to be four pairs (This Angel is called The Monarch, his real name is Bishop, he is the current ruler of Adath and is a part of the royal family.) The more pairs you’re born with, the higher status you are seen to have socially and spiritually (very religious culture. People born into the royal family are usually the only people to be born with more than one pair of wings. If you are a half-angel, though, or a Nephilim, you can be born with not only no wings, but with red blood, normal body temps, slow healing, and no magic. If you are born with wings though, it’s just as bad as having none due to their darker coloring. Full Angels have lightly colored wings in shades of gold, brown, white, cream, etc. All Nephilim born Angels are prosecuted, usually with death.

Religion: Agnostic - a person who believes that nothing is known or can be known of the existence or nature of God or of anything beyond material phenomena; a person who claims neither faith nor disbelief in God.

Race: Italian/Caucasian

Nationality: American

Occupation: Florist

———————————————————–

|Personality|

General personality: Affectionate, loving, caring, impulsive, idealistic, creative, dreamer, altruistic, compassionate, honest, gentle, open-minded, passionate, dedicated, self-conscious, reserved, timid, charitable

Likes: Sunset, cooking, company, books, romantic comedies, children, oversized sweaters, tea, rain, dancing, brownies, staying in, running, chocolate, skittles, strawberry lemonade, Chinese takeout, art, fall, baggy clothes, raspberries, honey, lightning, seafood, Nutella

Dislikes: Her wings, her hair color, crowds, the dark, alcohol, water, cigarettes, dolls, thunder, arguing, summer, waking up late, studying, bugs, mushrooms, dogs, not wearing socks with shoes, not wearing socks, eggs by themselves

Fears: Royalty, her father, isolation, her friends dying/ losing them, insanity, sexual abuse, ghosts/demons, amnesia

Horoscope: Emotional, loving, intuitive, imaginative, shrewd, cautious, protective, sympathetic, moody, touchy, clingy, changeable

Alignment: Neutral Good

MBTI: INFP-T

Talents/Skills: Drawing, Medicine/ Medical practice, giving advice, cooking, comforting others, poetry, hugs, being gentle

Language(s) known: Latin, German, and English

———————————————————–

|Traits|

Skin: Admya has albinism type OCA1a. People with OCA1a have a complete absence of melanin. People with this subtype of albinism have white hair, very pale skin, and light eyes, therefore, Admya has porcelain white skin and burns really easily. Her skin is absent of any natural blemishes or birthmarks or freckles as well, but she does flush fairly easily. Other than any natural blemishes though, Admya does have several scars; a horizontal slash across her stomach just below her navel, a stab wound between the ventricle space of her last two ribs on the left side, a diagonal slash on her back that goes from her right shoulder blade to the bottom of her spine, a stab wound just above her navel and finally, two identical cuts on her forearms, wrist to elbow. She also only has one tattoo on her sternum, an underboob tat (x)

Hair: Also due to her albinism, Admya has snow-white hair. He hair is just long enough to reach her tailbone and she has bangs that have grown long enough to where she doesn’t even really have bangs anymore. Her hair is wavey in texture, nearly straight, but if she were to cut it, it would become moderately curly. She tends to curl it anyways though. She also takes really good care of her hair so it’s not frizzy and is actually very soft. She also keeps it very white and not stained because even if she hates having white hair it’s better to keep it looking nice then having it look dirty. She uses makeup, though, to cover up the white hair on her lashes and eyebrows. (x)(x)

Face: Structure wise Admya is conveniently blessed due to the angel blood in her veins. Admya has wide, round eyes, a straight, button-like nose, fuller lips (they’re frequently chapped, though, due to her nervous habit of biting and picking them until they’re raw) and a roundish face. Her eye color is icy blue almost white due to albinism (x)

Clothing: She loves large baggy sweaters and skinny jeans, ripped or not. She likes to wear an occasional crop top though, no dresses or skirts unless needed. She never wears high heels and will even try to get away with either flat shoes or converse for formal events. She likes vans, converse and flat shoes like that. She doesn’t wear glasses but likes sunglasses a lot. (x)(x)(x)

Physical: Admya is curvy. she has some chub, mostly in her thighs and butt but a bit in her tummy (x) Bra wise she’s a B cup, making her more bottom heavy which qualifies her for the ‘pear-shaped’ body type. Even though she’s soft n squishy, though, she’s got muscle on her, enough so that you can feel it she wants you too. She could also easily lift someone twice her weight no problem because of her angelic blood but she’s average when it comes to speed and stamina. She’s 5'5 (165.1 cm) and about 140lbs (63.503 kg) without her wings. Her wings are inky black with an oil slick sheen that shows when she’s in the light, and they have a span of 10 ft total (x)

Jewelry: she likes to wear chokers and earrings (dangly ones), she only has her earlobes pierced once as of now.

Faceclaim: Sanada ririna (x)

Voiceclaim: Christina Perri (x)

———————————————————–

|Other|

Attack: she never carries a weapon and only attacks out of self-defense but is most definitely not a good fighter at all. No fighting training. She is paranoid about getting jumped, though.

Mystical: No magic abilities.

Family:

Father- Ollial, Angel, unknown age, dead

6’, Dirty blonde, curly hair, deep blue eyes, tanned skin. Up until death, Ollial appeared not a day older than his early thirties. He had a lean build but had been letting it go a bit. he always appeared stoic and cold, cocky at times. He was described as cruel, unforgiving, cold, lying, and manipulative. He favors Admya’s brother because he’s a full angel even if he’s still a “disgrace” and ended up getting killed by a demon who was protecting Admya at the time.

Mother- Delphi, Human, 41, dead

5'6, light brown/ greying, curly hair, light brown eyes, light olive colored skin. Delphi is older looking, she had slight wrinkles in her face from age like crows feet and worry lines but nothing too severe, she often looked tired or exhausted but still bright and happy. She was fairly thin. Some describe her as a secretive, gentle, kind, independent, intelligent woman and as a teacher/mentor to her daughter. She homeschooled Admya as a child and died protecting her.

Half brother- Malachi, Angel, 21, alive

6'5, white curly hair, deep blue eyes, light skinned. Malachi looks fairly young still, maybe in his mid to late teens even though he’s 21 now. His resting expression is emotionless and unreadable yet there’s still a sense of innocence to it as if he were a lost puppy, which he is. Malachi found out about Admya in his early teens and left Adath to go find her on earth but she thinks he may be dead.

Half brother- Aryo, Nephilim, 19, alive

5'6, brownish-red wavy hair, hazel-brown eyes, tanned skin. Aryo is guarded, distrusting, quiet, he does care a lot about a lot of things but never really shows it, aggressive and protective. Admya only found Aryo a while ago but hasn’t talked to him in a long time. She believes he may be dead

Mind: Admya has anxiety, severe depression, insomnia, night terrors, and minor insanity at times, when this happens she is more of a harm to herself than others.

Romance: Admya, very much so, is a romantic. She wants to fall in love with someone who makes her feel that spark. Her ideal lover is someone who may seem rough around the edges or even just seems a little guarded but truly has a soft spot for her amongst other things. She really enjoys the thought of being able to share moments with someone that people don’t usually see. At the same time though, Admya is also more of one to take the lead when she gets comfortable. Her outgoing personality leads to more risk-taking and plenty of opportunities to try new things including trying new things in the bedroom.

Past: Admya grew up with her mom and her mom’s high school friend Nickoli. Nickoli was like an uncle to Admya, and loved Admya’s mom, Delphi, a little bit more than as just friends, but didn’t ever really make a move to pursue a relationship with her. He would stop by the house more often than not but never lived there or stayed the night, and he always kept a distance, though, he did spend a lot of time helping Delphi with homeschooling and raising Admya by giving supporting finances and care on top of Delphi’s own. Delphi was left to raise Admya on her own after Admya’s father, Ollial, an angel from the dimension of Adath, had abandoned her. They had met while Ollial had been on missions to earth and had been in an on and off relationship for several years before Ollial cut it off by completely, stopping his visits when Delphi had become pregnant. This relationship they’d had, had been purely physical on Ollials end whereas on Delphi’s it was emotional, this disagreement was what caused the split, not the pregnancy. For years, Admya, Nickoli, and Delphi lived in peace in a small country home away from the cities, that is, until Admya was 11 and had received her first letter from her half-brother, Malachi. Malachi had discovered of his father’s affair with the human woman and had taken it upon himself to find the truth, in doing so, he had found Admya instead, learning that not only had his father had an affair with a human woman but had gotten her pregnant and created a bastard Nephilim child, a crime punishable by death. He also learned that his father didn’t know of such pregnancy. Malachi and Admya continued to write to each other in secret for years until Admya was about 15, that was when Ollial had found out about the letters Malachi had been hiding. After learning about the pregnancy and Admya, Ollial went back to earth in secret, attempting to erase any and all evidence of his affair, the pregnancy, and Admya’s existence, wanting to make sure that he would never be caught and tried for his crimes. He ended up killing Delphi, who risked her life for Admya’s before Admya was able to escape without him knowing, but not before Ollial set the house to flames first. She ran away from home, living on the streets until she was able to find a low paying job and a roommate at around 16. she wasn’t found by Nickoli until another year later at 17. He had discovered the burned remains of the house the next morning after Admya had left and had gathered as much of both Admya’s belongings and Delphi’s as he could, whatever wasn’t taken before the fire, to give to her when he found her again. Admya eventually quit her job and moved in with Nickoli once he found her again before finding a new roommate when she turned 18, only to have them move out at 19 and leave her with the apartment before she got a new occupation as a florist as well as an underground medical worker, as well, with the help of Nickoli, of course, he’s the one who taught her everything she knows about medicine having run an alchemy shop for many, many years. She still blames herself for her mother’s death.

#admya

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