"His stomach twisted into tense, nauseous knots within his center as he watched the corner of her upturned lips… One quick twitch downward of the muscles, a momentary slip of the smile from its previous immaculately fastened position… Just enough of a break in her façade to reveal everything to Mello before she could even mutter even a single word.
The world moved in slow motion as she reached for a paper held in a bundle in her folded arms, placing it face up on his desk. Penned on the top right corner of his page using the same deep, steel gray ink and circled so dramatically that no eye would be able to miss it was the damning number: 97
Three points short of a victory…
An entire universe short of perfection…"
(From Chasing Hues - Chapter 1 - @forbiddensoul562)
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i love the animated/comic bats’ domino mask vibes where the eyes are flat white but they can change shape to be expressive or blink (or give the impression of blinking), and if we’re tossing hyper realism out the window anyway then i like to imagine that the blinking/shifting is part of the design—something in the tech that helps the bats seem a bit more human while still hiding their eyes/identities. and while i’m imagining that i ALSO like to imagine that this function can be turned off when the bats want to go full unsettling cryptid mode
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Nana, Émile Zola
Finally getting some French lit in. To be completely honest, I've had this book for almost a decade, and I never read it. Well, actually, apparently I tried at some point, because I found some underlined bits very early on -- but it's clear that I gave up. I remember struggling with it back then. I didn't, this time. It's nice to see proof of my improvement, although I'm not sure what specific skill is concerned.
For a quick & anachronistic summary, it's the story of a 19th century escort girl who makes it big in paris.
I was actually surprised by how easy to read this was. I kind of expected very difficult language. It is poetic, but not actually difficult. The text is easy to follow, almost journalistic. Poetic journalism.
I really, really enjoyed Nana. It's a long ride, and what a ride. It reads, at times, like a soap opera, with how she has a roster of desperate men orbiting around her. She really is the sun of her novel -- and it is her novel. I entered this book ignorantly (despite being French and a ~lit student, I'm not actually well-versed in my country's literature) and it kept surprising me. Where I expected a moralizing tale, or at least a pessimistic outlook on the arrogant seductress, I got the unstoppable, inescapable success of Nana. It's almost a power fantasy, although I doubt Zola saw it through this angle. I mean, it does end badly. Spoilers, but she fully dies in a disfiguring manner. And there is this underlying theme of Nana, the beautiful Venus from the lower classes, bringing the rot of the sewers to the silk sheets of the aristocracy. She all but ruins the entire upper class with the raw power of her sex-appeal, and I thought that there was something cosmic about it. By the time she's at her apex, she herself does not have control of her situation. She becomes like an empire, constantly conquering further reaches to maintain peace and prosperity throughout her imperial reign. She devours. And yet she's so incredibly human. She felt to me like a deity unaware of its power, and, in that sense, her death (especially because it's in the full bloom of her youth and legendary status) felt more like a shedding of the mortal form. Admittedly, I also just find it more fun to interpret it that way. I'm reading for fun, after all. Ah, the specter of academic seriousness hangs over me.
I think Nana is an easy entry point into that sort of literature. Yes, it's part of some long-ass series, but no, you don't need to read the previous books (I didn't). It's very self-contained. It's a long, very eventful ride, through Nana's chaotic and glamorous world. It's long but it feels like going downhill on a bike, and like everything's going too fast still. And it's fucking funny.
And for you, tumblr, my beloved, yes, you will find some messy queers in there. I only talked about Nana herself here, but Nana holds a whole ensemble cast of secondary characters, many interesting women (a wealth of them, really), that are really a whole other serving of delights that I just didn't have time to talk about here. But seriously, just about every character, especially the women, is interesting.
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WORKING UP THE COURAGE TO ASK VIRGIL QUESTIONS:
What were the most intense emotions he'd ever felt outside of the Urge, before the tadpoling and after?
Hi Myc this is a fantastic question ily.
I think pre-tadpole, it would be the major beats of Virgil's life.
When Enver was sold to Raphael, his confusion and anger and sadness that was far too overwhelming for a kid.
The moments after Bhaal compelled him to kill his family, once the urge had faded and he was left to face what he had done alone, absolutely unfathomable horror, shame, and grief. And then there were the dark times after that where he didnt feel much of anything at all for a long time.
There was the shock, disbelief, relief, and utter childish delight that Virgil felt when he saw Enver again after the House of Hope, having believed him dead for so long. He kept these feelings inside as best he could in the moment, the Temple having taught him to temper his emotions as they didnt serve his father's will.
The slow build of trust, love, and sick bloody devotion over the years working together, coming to an apex at their trading of vows on Bhaal's altar, hearts connected by affection and the cold steel blade shared between them.
And then post tadpole, I would say,
Waking up on the nautiloid, head empty except for absolute, unending, blood-curdling rage with no discernable source.
When he found out he was he a child of Bhaal, the deep shame, hatred, and fear knowing his companions would scourn him.
And when he saw Gortash again, not knowing who he was or how he knew him, but that he felt right and good and why did he feel right and good hes supposed to be their enemy, but all Virgil wanted to do was cup Enver's face in his hand, to pull him into an embrace and never let go. I think for him it felt like he had been holding his breath for weeks and he was finally able to exhale, but there were people staring at him, judging him, and he knew how he felt would be seen as wrong, which made him so so angry which he channeled directly into smashing his shitty sister like a bug.
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