#why is he sooo fucking good at referencing shit. including his own shit

[mars-ipan]

why is will wood so good at writing music

#marzi speaks #if u want music that can cleverly reference a bunch of shit Listen To Will Wood #he will use wordplay to reference 3 highly specific real-world things in one line #and it will STILL have a double-meaning. HELLO #his songs r so fun to dissect. love it #when i first listened to main character i heard the ‘where do you get off’ and got so excited #i was like ‘:000 WHITE KNUCKLE JERK HOLY SHIT !!!!’ #why is he sooo fucking good at referencing shit. including his own shit #i read the lyrics to black box warrior for the first time and lost my mind. filled to the BRIM with allusions #AND it’s incredibly satisfying to listen to be it shouty or somber #plus super fun to learn to sing along to bc his songs are structured to be phonetically and rhythmically unique #so when you get a bit that feels like a tongue twister there’s like a rush of adrenaline #when i first got the fucking ‘an amicable animal mild-mannered cannibal’ in 2nd 2ight 2eer i felt like a god #one day i’ll master the spoken work in black box warrior #spoken word* whoops #anywho. good fucking music dude. changed my brain chemistry #i do wonder why he starts willard! with the miracle musical motif tho. it throws me off every time

[quowreadspact]

Damages 2.2

I’d give three groups safe passage.  Somehow, with the how of it to be negotiated when I’d done more research.

I am sooo unsure about this whole idea. I feel like this won’t end well. Also why limit it to three? Any reason? 

She pointed the gun at me.  I was so focused on the forces arrayed on the benches and around the edges of the room that it took me a moment to process what that meant.  A slight pull on the trigger, and I was gone.

And the next chapter is the epilogue! Or we switch POV to someone else. The next heir. I forget who. I know that won’t happen but goddamn that would be such a twist. 

I have help,” I said.  “Help my grandmother left me.”

I could see her eyes studying me.  Roving over my body, my clothes, and very pointed locations around me.

“Yes.  A companion.”

“A vestige,” Laird said.

Vestige?

“Of Rose?” the North End Sorcerer asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” Padraic spoke out loud, at the same Laird said, “I don’t think so.”

I guess they’d find out sooner than later. A vestige is interesting though. Rose I guess, was made from something left over. And she isn’t a vestige of Rose. At least not entirely. Maybe she is made of what many people left behind or something. 

“…I’m making one more offer.  An altered version of the deal I just gave you.  I’m willing to do what I can to protect you against any of my grandmother’s demons that happen to run rampant, and I’d still give you free reign to come after me.  I’ll protect an enemy, if my condition is met.  Identify the person responsible for my cousin’s death.  This deal, obviously, is off the table if you did it.”

Oh shit. Valuable information but that means he can never defend himself. Free reign is free reign. He worded it poorly. 

“Well,” he said.  “Let’s get this out of the way.  Who’s interested in taking the deal?”

Wait.  What?

“Not seeing any raised hands,” Laird said.  “It’ll be good if we get this out of the way, before it gets messy.”

Negotiating here?  Now?  I’d hoped for more backstabbing, a little more chaos.

And I have no idea why you thought that. They all hate you Blake. They already made their tenuous alliance. Anyways any backstabbing wouldn't happen in public. 

Laird drew in a deep breath, then told Maggie, “If it came down to it and Blake Thorburn sent something like that after my family, if I didn’t have measures in place, or if I didn’t feel my measures would hold, then I would use gun, knife, bludgeon, or whatever I had at my disposal to kill my family before that thing could reach them.  Because I love my family too much to do otherwise.”

Jesus. So Barb + other demons do some bad shit. Wonder what the other demon’s Granny captured are. Are there others? It seems to imply so. 

“It is,” Laird said.  “Primarily for Mr. Thorburn, removing all possible leverage he might hold.  I feel the risk to you if you take the deal is far smaller than if you don’t.”

“But it’s still a little trap for me.  For us,” Maggie said.  “And I’m betting that when all’s said and done, you come out ahead.”

“Yes.  Alongside the Duchamps, in keeping with our alliance.  But we’re all better off, Mr. Thorburn excepted, and he would be largely removed as a threat.”

Removed as a threat because one person could go after him with no fear? Yeah Blake not the smartest move. You better hope no one takes the deal. 

“A bit too steep of a price, I suspect.  You’re not paying attention to the context of this situation.  We need to drain the marshes to let the city expand, which is something we require to further all of our interests, yours included.”

“I am paying attention.  I don’t care,” the Briar Girl said.  The spirit’s beak was partially open still by her ear, serrated with sawlike teeth.  One of its large yellow eyes were fixated on Laird.  “The city will expand all the same, but it will expand slower.  More expensive for you.  It’ll still get where you want it to get.  When it does, I’ll have all those woods and marshes.  One way or another.”

They are all so greedy. Also I don’t understand how it would expand if they couldn’t clear the swamp. 

“My rose has done what she aimed to,” Padraic said.  “You’ve offended two of us, Aimon Behaim.  Johannes and me both.”

Yay Blake? Also interesting that Padraic considers Blake his. I don’t remember the reason for that if there is one. 

You’ve wounded me, ignoring me in this critical moment.  I have far more to lose than you, don’t I?  An immortal lifespan, against, what, thirty more of your years?  Twenty of your wife’s?  Sixty two of one daughter’s, fifty one of another, one of a son’s life?  Add them together for your family as they are now and you have, what?”

Oh. He knows how long everyone will live. Which son will only live one more year? Sad. 

“One of Laird’s generations.  Grandchildren, grand-nieces and nephews, and the children of his cousins.”

“That has the unfortunate consequence of ending his line.”

Padraic smiled.  “I could return them, more or less in one piece.  Let them age up to twenty or so, educate them.  It would be novel, and if we kept some in reserve and staggered out when and how we returned them, we could amuse ourselves for hundreds of years.”

How would he use a whole generation of people? God this is so fucked up. 

“Perhaps,” Sandra Duchamp said.  “That would be dangerous for my family.  I was thinking of maintaining some connection to the courts, in a peripheral manner.”

“Nonetheless, I’m pacified.  I no longer feel slighted.”

“Then,” Sandra Duchamp said, “Thorburn’s offer remains open, I will know who accepts it, if anyone does.  Let’s set that matter aside so we’re free to move on.   The murder of Molly Walker?”

Damn. Blake didn’t accomplish much. But what is this about Molly? Is he gonna get some hints on who killed her anyways? 

Laird responded without standing, “It’s largely under wraps.  The investigation will hit a dead end on its own.”

Oh. Never mind. Lame. I’m sure we will find out eventually, not that it matters too much. 

“Next order of business.  I’m obligated to call it to a vote.  Flagrant use of one’s practice in public, acting against the local powers.  Maggie Holt.”

What did she do in public? Ugh I feel like I’m missing things. 

Nobody else in the room raised their implements.  Not even the woman who called the vote.  What was the proper course of action if we didn’t have implements to raise?  Raising our hands?  Or were we not allowed to vote?

Maybe this will spark him to get his implement first. 

“Something else we need to talk about,” I said, “Is this vestige thing.  It’s the… second or third time I’ve heard it, and I’m pretty sure you referenced it, one of those times.”

“Talking to yourself, Mr. Thorburn?”

I wheeled around.  Rather than stop, I kept walking backwards.

Good thing to discuss. But oh shit be careful. Also turning around to walk backgrounds is a funny mental image. 

“Yes.  You are,” Johnannes said.  “I’m liking how quickly you’re picking this up.  The language, turns of phrase used to redirect, to mislead.  You’re talking to your companion, yes, but you’re not denying that you’re talking to yourself.”

He knew?  Even Laird hadn’t made any obvious connections.

“You’ve been watching?” I asked.

“Yes.  Everyone has, to some degree.”

Shouldn't be too hard to pick up, though I do wonder how they found out. 

“If-” a voice started behind me.  It cut off when I turned.  Rose.  “If the execution was only stayed today because of the promise he made, what’s stopping him from doing it next month?”

“A very good question, miss…?” Johannes let the question hang.

“I don’t know if I should answer that.”

“Miss Mirror.  A good question,” Johannes said.  “The obvious answer is that he won’t call for an execution if you’re useful to him.  He can use the threat you pose as a distraction or a tool, apparently.  He’s not worried, because he seems to think he has an answer to whatever you might send his way.  How is that?  How would he know what you have at your disposal and how to respond?”

But they don’t know her name? I guess they don’t know too much then. I like the name Miss Mirror. But yes best to stay useful. Sucks that they have to, it is very limiting. 

I said, “That means I’d have to find his place.  If I disposed of the safeguards and prevented him from erecting any more, he loses his bargaining chip.”

“That would be the natural conclusion,” Johannes said.  “Getting into his place to do anything would be the real difficulty.  His home is his demesnes, and any protections he has against demons, devils and infernal things might be supplemented with protection against the practitioner that might command them.”

That... sounds very difficult. Tread carefully. Poor Blake can’t do shit. 

“If the danger is a vote of execution,” I said, “We could theoretically win over enough people that they couldn’t get the majority.”

“Do all members of the family count?” Rose asked.  “There’s no way, if they do.”

“The senior member of each family unit gets one vote,” Johannes said.  “All put together, that is three from the Duchamps, and four from the Behaims.”

“Seven,” I said.

“Myself, Maggie, The Briar Girl, Mara, Padraic, two Others, at a minimum,” Johannes said.  “You might want more, in case any Others decide to vote against you.  A slim chance, but you have one month.”

Honestly this almost sounds harder. Even if he can’t leave the house, maybe he can send messengers? 

Oh.  She was talking about what I’d brought up at the meeting.  I’d been talking about Rose, but I’d let them think I was talking about something else.  Something that could release the barber if I was hurt or killed.

Would fear work?

“I do,” I said.  “I’m not really a fan of any option that works only after I get brutally murdered.”

Leading Johannes and Maggie to believe that there was a safeguard in place.  But the truth was, I wasn’t a fan of that sort of option.  Generally speaking.

Hey man why not. Make it easier for the next heir. It’d be funny. 

“Good company?” Rose asked.

“You’re an Other,” Maggie said.  “That place is like an Other’s amusement park.  There, it’s like the old days, before the Seal of Solomon.  Before humans were really able to fend for themselves.”

“This is sanctioned?” I asked.  Hard to imagine there hadn’t been a vote against Johannes.

“No,” Maggie said.  “What does it matter?  The area is his.  Purely his.  The only person who gets a say is him.”

So Rose is considered an Other? Interesting. But ugh this is so weird Rose doesn’t LIKE what other Others do so it wouldn't be much of an amusement park for her. 

“What do you want?” she asked.

I thought back to the oath I’d made while awakening.  “Freedom, safety, I want to help my family, past, present and future.  I want to help my… companion here.”

“Yeah?” Maggie asked.  “Huh.”

“What do you want?” Rose asked.

“I can’t put it to words.  I feel dumb if I say it out loud.  But power helps everything.  Knowledge is power.  I want knowledge and power.”

Interesting. Maggie could make a good ally. Blake has plenty of info. 

“That’s pushing the definition,” I said.

“So is Laird!  You want my answer, on why he’d call me that?  There you go.”

I frowned.

Why does it matter why she is a terrorist anyways. You have to be very careful with her either way. 

“You’re leaving me hanging?”  Maggie asked.  “If I could say anything crude, I’d say it now.  I… can’t even allude to it.  Blue.  You’re leaving me blue.”

“Sad?” Rose asked.

Wait why can’t they say crude things? Something about not lying?  Anyways omg Rose are you sheltered or what. 

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” she said.  “Generally?  No.  I don’t think we’re okay at all.  We’re probably going to die.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Are you okay?  No.  Am I okay?  No.”

“Now you’re intentionally misunderstanding me,” I said.  I added a quick, “I think.”

“I am.  Are we okay as a pair?  No.  We aren’t.”

I mean, true. I don’t think Blake is ok in any sense of the word. 

“Fit somewhere in the middle.  A flawed simulacrum, or a ghost that left a deep enough impression in reality that you can use that impression as a mold.  Memories, complex thought, they’re flexible.  There’s a book on vestiges in the library.  They’re interesting to work with because they can be altered.  Strong enough that you can mold them, without them being too rigid.”

So this is what she is. Awful. I wonder what the limitations are. Blake read the damn book thanks. 

But Vestiges were impermanent.  Sand castles.  Given time, given external pressures, they started to degrade.  Over time, the degradation got worse, to the point that it took more and more effort and energy to keep them intact.

What was the power source that was driving her?

How much time did she have?

Yup here it is. Rose will fade away. She draws power from something granny left behind, so unless Blake figures out what it is and... I don’t know.. refreshes its energy she is so fucked. 

“I’m here for a purpose, Blake,” Rose said.  “And I’m only here for a little while.  We need to figure out what that purpose is.”

“Fuck that,” I said.  “I made a promise I’d help you.  That doesn’t mean using you and throwing you away to fall apart.”

I guess she was made for a specific reason. Ah this is all so interesting I hope we aren’t left in the dark for too long. 

“Tell me how this sounds.  If you like the idea, we’re going to hit the books, and we’re going to make sure it won’t come back to bite us in the ass.  Dear Mr. RCMP Officer, you should know that Laird Behaim was at a function at the church last night.  He has admitted in earshot of several people that he knows something about who murdered Molly Walker and how.”

I like it. But won’t won’t Blake get accused of trying to reveal magical stuff to normal people? Or won’t Blake get questioned himself? I don’t think it will work. 

“Kids,” Rose said.  “Get the kids in that interrogation room somehow.  They won’t be as savvy.  They’ll let something slip.”

I thought of how the Behaim kids had done a poor job of concealing their fear and surprise.

“It’s dirty,” I said.  I smiled some.  “Dirty is good.”

Smart smart. Or stupid stupid. Hard to say. I don’t see how it could work, but if it could it’d be amazing. 

#2.2 #damages 2.2 #pact #text