MENU

Culture
Category

107

LIVE EVENT! Living Myth Live Presents TELL ME YOUR NIGHTMARES

Comedy, Culture, Events, LMM Live, Performance, Showcase

June 20, 2017

We are doing our first live show after a long hiatus of show making… and man is it a doozy!

Tell Me Your Nightmares is a show where we talk about something we all have… NIGHTMARES!

We will be at Seven Dining Loung in Vancouver, BC on July 14th from 7 PM to 11 PM.

There will be special guests and great music by our musical guests The Skeleton Crew

You can have a listen to them below

We will also have two contests! A pyjama contest and an audience nightmare contest. More information will be available on our event page.

Read article

234

Review: Instant Theatre – Shakespeare After Dark! The Anniversary Show

Comedy, Culture, Events, Improv, Performance, Reviews, Showcase

June 19, 2017

With uproarious laughter and perfect comic timing, the audience was transfixed by what they saw. We had an audience with “The Bard” himself, Bartitsu and rapier fighting by Affair of Honor, an Elizabethan complements contest, an insult battle with pirate ships and pickle juice as the main insult components and Matheson the best drunk thespian they could summon.  Shakespeare After Dark is very close to being sorcery on its own, but they pull some serious magic Saturday night.  We can’t say this enough but this is absolutely some of the best improv you can see in the city.

Good and gentle bards soothed us with classic chamber music throughout the evening. Photo Credit Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Producer Chelsey Stuyt welcomes the audience and introduces us to the players. Photo Credit Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Joel Cottingham as William Shakespeare was our host! “I might call him / A thing divine, for nothing natural / I ever saw so noble.” – The Tempest Photo Credit Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

A packed house! Full of merry gentles! Photo Credit Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Affair of Honor showing us stunningly choreographed Bartitsu Photo Credit Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

A fair maiden receiving compliments Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

They were wooing her real good Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Pirates vs. Pickle Juice might foes in insults Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Affair of Honor and their endless rapier duel Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

It would be Shakespeare After Dark without a drunk actor. Matheson was our man of the evening. Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

“I’M A DRAGON” Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

A man armed with mead is as dangerous as a man armed with sword Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Like all good Shakespearean tragedies… There is a lot of death. Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Like … a lot of death… Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Did we mention there was death? Because there was. Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Standing Ovation! Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Chelsey bidding us a gentle night and merry revelry. Photo Credit By Peter Joseph for Living Myth Magazine

Our contest winners enjoying alcohol and snacks!

Congratulations Instant Theatre on a successful and hilarious Shakespeare After Dark!  If you want to catch their next show it will be at The Havana on July 22nd.

 

Read article

203

Kurtis Wiebe on Rat Queens

Books & Writing, Culture, Interviews, Showcase

June 19, 2017

Kurtis Wiebe, writer of Rat Queens and Bounty and a host of other comics that we love, recently took the time to sit down and chat about his return to that title, his love of role playing games, the future of the Queens, and some of his other projects. It’s the sort of conversation that we’re delighted to be able to share, and so…

 

LMM: Hey, Kurtis, thanks for taking the time to do this with us. You’re back writing Rat Queens, one of the first – and, in our opinion, one of the best – dungeons and dragons inspired comics to feature anything other than male leads. Where did the original concept come from?

Kurtis Wiebe: Rat Queens was born out of the idea of taking fantasy in a direction I’d never seen before. I’d never come across a fantasy series, comic or fiction in general, that featured four female protagonists. I wanted to create a world where gender really didn’t matter when it came to career pursuits. So often when a woman is a warrior in these sorts of stories there’s always someone making a point of it. “You can’t do that, you’re a woman.” And then the story is about them proving that they can. I think it’s a fun concept that it’s just a universally accepted fact that a job is a job, no one questions the gender equation.

And I think it’s pretty obvious that there’s a huge element of roleplaying game nostalgia mixed in for good measure.

 

LMM: You had initially intended to kickstart the series. What was it like getting picked up by Jim Valentino before the funding went live? What was your reaction?

Kurtis Wiebe: I think it’s sort of telling in a lot of ways. I never expected ANYONE to read Rat Queens. It was a series in a genre that traditionally was a tough sell in the comic market. It didn’t even cross my mind to pitch to Shadowline until Riley Rossmo read over the pitch and said I should at least try to talk to Jim Valentino about it.

Jim responded within a few hours and greenlit it. I think Jim saw more in the series than I did at that point and took a chance. I was pretty surprised, honestly.

 

LMM: What brought you back after your hiatus?

Kurtis Wiebe: Owen Gieni. I’d been talking to him for years about working on something together. We’ve known each other long before we both ended up in Vancouver a few years ago. (Though I’m no longer there, myself.) Owen and I met up and started hanging out in Saskatoon, Canada roughly seven years ago. We played RPG’s together, jammed on story ideas and spent a few nights around a campfire having drinks. Real classic small town Saskatchewan stuff.

I’d always hoped that Owen would come onto Rat Queens for a one shot at the very least, and I’d reached out to him about coming onto the series when  Stjepan was unable to continue working on it. It didn’t work out then due to scheduling conflicts, but I’m so glad he agreed to join me for the relaunch.

You have to understand that Owen brought an energy to the series that reignited the spark for me. I had fell out of love with the series for a lot of reasons but I am absolutely loving working on it again. The best part is the level of collaboration we have. We will break story together, scene by scene. Joke by joke. This new take on Rat Queens is a real blending of our combined humor and storytelling.

 

LMM: You’ve got an interesting cast of characters to develop stories with. Who’s your favorite, and why?

Kurtis Wiebe: Tough decision. I think Betty has become the most natural for me. I know her inside and out and her ability to love anyone, despite everything, is an aspect of her personality that is a real joy to write.

 

LMM: Speaking of that cast of characters… everyone is a lot deeper than they look at first glance. Where’d you draw on the gender issues that confront Violet, where do you see her brother’s involvement in her life going, and is the rest of her family going to get involved?

Kurtis Wiebe: For Violet, it was more about family expectation. Tradition for the sake of it. Never questioning the history that came before. And the reasons her father gave her were never enough. She needed to be heard and her father, and Barrie to a certain extent, weren’t able to do so. So Violet set out to create her own traditions that were personal to her.

Barrie is already part of the new relaunch, and it’s evident he still doesn’t understand her choices. We will be dealing with that in upcoming issues and more with her family later on.

 

LMM: Violet takes care of her Queens and the Queens look like the biggest gang of heroes in Palisade – how do the people of Palisade feel about that, and how comfortable is Violet with playing politics? Will the various nobles try to use Violet and the nobles for their own ends?

Kurtis Wiebe: I doubt Violet sees herself as a hero, that would be more of a Hannah thing. But the people of Palisade are much more accepting of the Queens after they saved the town from a potentially devastating attack in Volume 2. We’ll get into that more in the series as well.

 

LMM: By the same token, you have a similar but different issue playing out with the half-orc, Braga. What was it like getting to explore her backstory, and what’s it like having her officially join the Queens?

Kurtis Wiebe: I love the one shots for that reason. We have an opportunity to tell smaller stories that reveal the history of our side characters in the series. As far as Braga, she’s always been a fun character to write. Her backstory is sad in a lot of ways, but fits in with the overall idea of found family. She never fit in with her own orcish people because of their backward violent traditions. There’s some similarities to Violet’s backstory, but Braga left to see a bigger, more beautiful world.

It was a natural fit to bring her into the fold of the Queens. It’s definitely a different dynamic, and it takes some getting used to for sure. But I’m glad we made that decision.

 

LMM: Hannah has dealt with a host of abuses in the past. Has she laid her demons to rest, so to speak, or are they going to come back to haunt her going forward?

Kurtis Wiebe: Hannah’s story is a very big part of our relaunch. I’ve said before that everything that happened in the series before matters and the relaunch is going to be a little jarring at first. I can’t say much more without giving a lot away. But, rest assured, Hannah’s history and her decisions are very much still echoing through the story.

 

LMM: Hannah’s infernal heritage has caused her a lot of grief and turned people against her not because of who but because of what she is. Do you see who she’s become as a self-fulfilling prophecy given the way she’s been treated?

Kurtis Wiebe: It can go that way. Or maybe it has. Or maybe it will. Or maybe it hasn’t. Secrets.

 

LMM: Dee’s religious background is interesting – an atheist cleric who has seen the face of her god is kind of amazing. Where did the idea of her faith come from, and are we going to see it explored further?

Kurtis Wiebe: Dee’s religious background is a fundamental part of her character and we can’t tell her story without some part of that playing a role. A lot of her experiences are based on my own. I came from a Christian family and later on became an atheist. Through her story, I’m telling my own. Even working out some of the struggles I’ve had because of it.

And Dee’s vision of her god will definitely play a large role in stories to come. For now, Dee is preparing for a career change which will be more apparent in our second arc.

 

LMM: How does Betty live on nothing but alcohol, drugs, and candy?

Kurtis Wiebe: Smidgen resilience to pleasure overload.

 

LMM: You’ve used Rat Queens as a means of poking fun at fantasy tropes while exploring modern issues of privilege, gender and sexual identity, and politics. A handful of comics have tried to echo what you built – how do you plan on keeping Rat Queens ahead of the pack?

Kurtis Wiebe: I don’t really see it as a competition. Rat Queens mirrors the community of people in my life and that’s where I draw my inspiration from. I plan to continue to be inspired by that community and try as best as I can to replicate those relationships in the world of Rat Queens.

 

LMM: Rat Queens betrays a love and knowledge of pen’n’paper role playing. Do a favorite system? What games do you play? Do you have a favorite character you’ve played in the past?

Kurtis Wiebe: I love RPGs. I play anything and everything. I think certain systems are good for specific genres or types of players. Want to introduce complete newbs to RPGs? D&D 5th edition. Want to run a deeply character driven but hilarious short story? Fiasco. It all depends on the mood and the group, in my opinion.

And, to be honest, I haven’t actually played a character in about twelve years. I exclusively run games. That’s my jam.

 

LMM: What are the future plans for Rat Queens? You’ve done some crossovers with Vox Machina from Critical Role – a live D&D show played by voice actors – and done some work for the video gaming industry in the past; any chance for a Rat Queens video game? Toys? Board games? Maybe an actual D&D expansion?

Kurtis Wiebe: Well, it hasn’t been announced yet but I’m working with Wizards of the Coast on a Rat Queens adventure supplement for D&D 5th edition. I’d love to make an RQ board game, something like a dungeon crawler miniature combat game with a huge splash of humor.

 

LMM: In the first issue of the new series, the Queens end up fighting a Giant Canadian Goose. The normal-sized ones are terrible enough, but… are there stats for the Giant Canadian Goose? For reasons of I need to inflict that on my players.

Kurtis Wiebe: No stats yet. And you can thank Owen Gieni for that one. In the script I simply said: Insert flying monster of some kind. The rest is all Owen.

 

LMM: There’s been a host of other projects that you’ve been working on, all tying into the same themes that Rat Queens draws so much from – titles like Grim Leaper and Debris coming to mind. Is there any chance we might see more of them?

Kurtis Wiebe: I’m focusing all my comic energy into Rat Queens right now. It is my number one priority and my goal is to ensure we continue to come out with fun, hilarious and adventurous stories that are also hitting their schedule. Fun fact. When issue 3 came out last month, it was the first time in the series history that we had 3 issues in a row that came out on time. That’s the goal. Consistency in schedule and quality.

 

LMM: You’ve also flirted with horror comics, as seen with Green Wake. Where did the idea come from, how did you develop it?

Kurtis Wiebe: I wrote Green Wake while going through a divorce. It was the one place I could channel all those raw emotions and transform it into something that made sense of at least some of the pain. But it was entirely a creation of both Riley and me. It was an equal partnership in both storytelling and worldbuilding and I’m super proud of it.

 

LMM: While Rat Queens was on hiatus, you started working on the sci-fi series Bounty. What was that like, jumping from one genre to the next?

Kurtis Wiebe: I wanted to do a series for a younger audience that built on the themes I’d created in Rat Queens. I’ve received so many messages about wanting a Rat Queens style story that women could share with the girls in their lives that wasn’t R rated. And Bounty came out of that. Genre jumping wasn’t a huge difficulty, I have written in sci-fi settings before and narratively it was a world that was right in my wheelhouse.
It was a lot of fun to work on. Mindy Lee is an amazing artist. Her design sense is some of the best I’ve seen in comics and it was a real honor to work with her. It was one of those things where Bounty wouldn’t have worked under anyone else’s sensibilities.

 

Thanks for taking the time to chat with us, Kurtis. If you’d like to chat with Kurtis you can do so on the twitters by clicking here or his personal page by clicking here. He’s good people. He also sometimes hangs out at Big Pete’s Comics and Collectables, where you can also buy Rat Queens and his other works. They’re also on Amazon, and you can find a helpful listing of his comics by clicking here. Thanks again to Kurtis, thank you for reading, and we’ll have more goodies for you as they crop up. 

Read article

205

Fiction – World of Mercedes Ketch – From the Wheel

Books & Writing, Culture, Short Fictions

June 16, 2017

Keira stared at the hourglass shaped board in front of her, considering her options. She’d used a Surcess Opening, had been surprised when her opponent had not followed suit – she had thought he was planning something she might not expect but had found his subsequent moves efficient but easy to predict. It was a dangerous weakness to expose in a place such as this.

They were playing in the living room of an apartment in the eastern part of the Sengri Academy. She was Keira Turn, a recognized genius with dangerous friends. He was Lucio Amadus, the younger of twins, and it was his sister that had set this appointment in an effort to socialize her brother. Keira hadn’t liked the sister but had done her the favor anyway, mostly to sate her own curiosity.

Kinguim children were typically raised by their parents or by their parent’s servants, taught the rudiments of the world and left to discover what they wanted to on their own before coming to one of the six Academies at the age of nine. There, her people learned to harness the divinity in their blood and learn what it was to be the Get of Kingu.

One of the first things they learned was that there was no law against murder, either among the adult Kinguim or among their children here at this school. Within the first week, they were marched over to the Trypper’s Tower, where a withered old man named Pitch taught them that their souls would always return to bodies with Kinguim blood. He even showed them a method to see this happen, so there could be no doubt.

Keira had trembled, helpless to do anything but watch as Pitch slit the throat of two grown men from the outside world. They had been collected for just this purpose: the Adama had been screaming for mercy, but the Kinguim had smiled at the assembled children, had waved at them before Pitch killed him.

It wasn’t the first time Keira had seen someone die and it wouldn’t be the last. She’d likely see the exercise repeated that afternoon. It was just that she’d never seen someone willingly go to the slaughter like that.

Pitch showed them how to watch, to trick their eyes into seeing the soul of a thing. Five hundred children had gasped when the weak soul of the Adama fell apart and drifted away like flotsam on an ocean tide, but the soul of the Kinguim began to glow sapphire blue, sinking into a shimmering net to await a body to inhabit.

She’d been there when Lucia and Lucio Amadus had been exposed to this horror and neither of them had flinched. She wondered how Carmen would react, her finger tracing a path along the edge of the table upon which the board was set as she tried to distract herself from the time and studied her opponent and his consideration.

There was a piece in this game that could only eliminate other pieces. It was a useful piece but it was unable to touch the me, and thus unable to affect the single means by which the highest amount of points that could be collected. It was meant to show that murder was useful but ultimately wasteful. She could reach over the snap his neck and no one would punish her. The sister would be mad, but Keira could kill her, too. She knew that would make her enemies, make people wary of her, and that she would die at the hands of the Amadus line. Instead, she studied his slight frown, his narrowed eyes.

He was cute and of West African descent, younger than her but brilliant, younger than the person she was waiting for, his fingers thrumming a gentle constant rhythm that mirrored his decisions. She had offered to put on some kind of music but he’d asked her not to, favoring the soft percussion of his fingers. She might have found it annoying had his talent for music not far exceeded his talent for Rafael.

“It’s five minutes since the last time you checked,” Lucio said, not looking up from the board. She bit her lip, took a deep breath.

“There’s someone coming today,” Keira said, watching his fingers keep their steady pattern. She was eleven years old and he was eight but very bright, and the girl coming today would be all of nine. “Someone I’m looking forward to seeing very much.

“A sister?” Lucio asked, looking up, a flicker of interest passing through his features.

“My sister is older than I am,” Keira answered. He nodded sympathy; Lucia was, Keira had been given to understand, thirty-six minutes older than Lucio. Their parents had not been expecting twins. Keira knew this because she was inquisitive and liked to know things about the people she was going to have to deal with and she expected Lucio to ask her questions about her sister or the person coming.

He didn’t.

Sitting, silent, he stared at the board and considered his next move. She could understand why the parents Amadus had sent their kids to the Academy so early. Lucia was gifted at getting people to do what she wanted, so much so that Keira now sat here playing Rafael with this strange boy. Lucio himself was a gifted mathematician and she could see how that played into his decisions even upon the hourglass between them.

Both twins liked music and languages. Lucia wielded all three like weapons. Lucio seemed to love them for their own sake, but there was an alienness to their gifts that frightened some of the other Kinguim. Keira was not so afraid; she, too, had talents that set her apart even from those with divinity in their blood, and while she did not like Lucia she felt a strange kinship for Lucio, a kinship the parents of these twins had not felt.

Lucia had told her all about it. For his part, Lucio seemed glad to be rid and distant from them.

For his part, Lucio seemed glad to be rid and distant from them.

He made a move. She countered. He frowned, staring at the board, moved again. She boxed him in. The two of them were still experimenting with the nuances of the game, both getting a feel for what the game said about themselves and one another. She offered Lucio’s scowl a shy smile, moved another piece.

She was thinking of trying the sport later that year, trying her hand at joining one of the wings that represented the school. There was power that came with being a celebrity but there was risk in becoming a public figure and she wasn’t sure yet how to balance the two. She wasn’t even sure what position she would try out for – a searcher, maybe?

Biting her lip, she checked the time again.

“Six minutes,” he muttered, staring at the board, frustration beat out in the gentle pounding of his fingers. He looked up at the ceiling, never once meeting her eyes, the hand not drumming on the table running through a complex pattern that she realized were all the moves he’d made so far. “I’d say your mind is elsewhere, but…”

“I’ve got a head for games.”

“Ya-huh.”

He moved again and this time she started eliminating his pieces, removing them from the board as she made her way towards his me. He struggled, but she could see his patterns now and was able to counter them – she wondered what he’d be like in a full game, but they had agreed on single rounds today, feeling one another out, getting to know one another and the game itself.

“My plan should have worked,” he said, once all his pieces were gone.

“You’re looking for perfect games,” Keira responded, “and you’re looking at the most amount of direct movement. You’re playing like a mathematician.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“She’s looking to win.” Keira had a small apartment all to herself and she had made only two spare keys. One dangled on her chest, safely kept in waiting. The other belonged to the newcomer, a boy she’d known since childhood. His name was Christian Kennedy.

He was a tall boy, skim, filling out nicely as puberty set in. He wore his hair long, white pants and gray shirt, eyes gray and cold and patient, snake eyes, the sort of eyes that should have been a warning. He moved like he owned the world, opening her fridge and grabbing a drink, looking over at the hourglass as Lucio reset the pieces.

“You weren’t even here,” Lucio muttered. “How could you know that?”

“Because I know the two of you,” Christian answered. He grabbed some glasses from Keira’s cabinet, poured another couple drinks for Keira and her guest, all the time acting as if it were his home that they were in and not hers. He looked at Keira as he offered her the drink, giving her a smile that was anything but shy as he nodded towards the board. “Do the thing you do.”

She kept her face neutral as she turned to the board, silently asking permission from Lucio. He hesitated for only a moment, but his love of language extended to the silent words of stance and breath and he moved back, nodding.

Christian saying do the thing you do was a code; he was uncertain how to pronounce the word eidetic and probably couldn’t spell it, either, but he knew that Keira’s memory was exactly that and loved to take advantage of such. She went through the game they had just played, move for move, Christian studying the changing hourglass until the game she and Lucio had just played reached the ending.

“It’s weakness,” Christian laughed, sitting down on a chair between the two of them as he leaned in close to Lucio, careful not to touch him. “You think you’re playing with set equations, but the game is algebra.”

“Algebra?” Lucio frowned.

“You know what you wanna do and you know you want to win,” Christian explained, leaning back with a pleased smile. Tonelessly, tunelessly, he began to tap his feet on the floor. “What you don’t know is what she’s going to do, but you think you do and so you’re playing a game that suits what you think instead of what is. Solve for x.”

“I don’t understand.” Lucio actually looked him in the eye. “Isn’t that what we all do?”

“No,” Christian shrugged. “Everyone plays this game differently. I’ve only seen you do that, which isn’t good or bad, but it’s your perfection that kills you. Anything that’s perfect is perfect for a single moment in time. Then it stops and becomes imperfect. Like, what were their names?”

“The Verenes.”

“Them,” Christian nodded, thanking her for remembering the object lesson when it came to failing despite the divinity of Kingu’s blood. “Don’t assume you know what another person is going to do, or what their game is. And don’t have any set game yourself. It’s easier to break a rock than it is to break water.”

“I don’t understand,” Lucio repeated. Christian turned to Keira, frowning, wondering if he was explaining this wrong. Now it was her turn to shrug, she moving and letting the other boy take her seat.

“Okay, tell you what… we’re gonna play a game, and then I’m going to walk you through why I’m doing what I’m doing and you’ll do the same, okay? Or you can just ask questions. Whatever you’re cool with.”

“You said okay twice.” Lucio’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the hourglass “You’re up to something.”

“Yes, but nothing malicious.” Christian smiled, making a steeple of his fingers and looking past them at the small genius sitting across from him. “Trust me.”

They started playing. Christian began explaining his actions at first, but quickly let those explanations slip when it became obvious that Lucio was not paying attention to them. Keira watched for a few more minutes as Christian began breaking his wing down, taking control of the board and smothering anything that Lucio tried.

“Do you even have a plan?” Lucio asked, frowning at the board and trembling.

“No,” Keira answered, Christian grinning and silent. “I reacted to your moves and forced you into circumstances that worked for me. He’s looking for weaknesses in your moves and then crumbling the support you’re using. You’re ignoring us both in favor of claiming the me.”

“Start trying to solve for x,” Christian added, resting his hands behind his head. “Don’t forget that your opponent is part of the equation, so you need to know your opponent to win. I like to think of it as turning numbers into fractions and breaking them down. That make sense, genius?”

“No.” Lucio actually growled.

“Well, we’ll let you think on it,” Christian said, standing up. He offered Keira a hand, smiling. She didn’t take it, and that just made him smile more. “C’mon, she’s nearly here.”

“Lucio…” Keira began, standing, but Christian cut her off.

“Let him stay and study the board,” he said. “We’ll be gone, what, an hour? Two?”

“Fine,” Keira muttered, not happy about leaving the strange boy in her home unattended.

“It’ll be fine,” Christian said. “Don’t burn the place down or anything.”

“I won’t,” Lucio said, his voice serious and his eyes not leaving the board. “Thank you.”

Keira thought about saying something, but bit her tongue and grabbed her jacket and sword, following Christian as he buckled his blade around his hips and stepped out the door before cursing herself, hurrying up to stand beside him instead. If I follow him, it looks like he’s in charge, she thought, if I stand in front of him, I’m exposing my back. Neither option was good; the best option was to stand beside him and hope for the best.

She didn’t lock her door, and her keys felt heavy in her pocket the further she moved away. She risked a glance back and Christian noticed, chuckling softly to himself.

“You really think he’s a risk?” Christian asked. “I mean, his sister maybe, but him?”

“I notice you’re in no hurry to leave people alone in your home,” Keira said, pleased with the primness in her tone.

“If it were him, I might,” Christian replied, shrugging. “Besides, we’ll know if he did anything.” Keira stared at him, the two of them continuing to walk.

“Did you leave bugs in my home?”

“No more than usual,” Christian grinned. That’s not a good answer, she thought. “No more than you have bugs in mine. And if he bugs your home, well, that tells us something about him and his sister.”

“And you’re willing for me to take that risk on your behalf?”

“No, no at all,” Christian said. “You have better self-control than I do, so if they do bug your home – and it would be the sister, not the brother, that would do that – you’re the one more suited to feeding them false information.”

“It’s still a risk.”

“Certainly,” Christian laughed. “But save the conversation – it’ll be a good introduction for our good friend, maybe help instill a healthy paranoia.”

“As if Pitch’s welcoming display won’t do that.”

“There’s a difference between a healthy paranoia and fear.”

“Fear? You?” Keira scoffed, kicking at a stray rock and watching it bounce ahead of them. “You’re staying behind to help check the place.”

“I’ll even grab dinner,” Christian nodded, agreeing. “Besides, it’ll be good to catch up with Carm and see where her head is at.”

They walked in silence for a time, watching the alleys and side streets, but no one seemed to be paying them any serious attention.

“You really think you’ll learn anything?” Keira asked.

“Not really, but it’s the thought that counts.” Christian slipped his hands into his pockets, a sign that he thought they were in no danger. “Besides, neither of us are that important, not yet.”

“Your brother runs the Academy.” Keira kept vigilant, her eyes on the people around them, a greater number of them heading south to greet the newcomers. “And your brother knows you, knows what you’re capable of.”

“Yes, well, I know him, too,” Christian shrugged. “Can you believe he’s not in charge? The Halkett Bloc. Pah. Have you ever even heard Jay speak? All he does is shoot things and look intimidating and wave that empty gun of his around.”

“I saw him shoot someone once,” Keira said, shuddering. She remembered the crack of the pistol, the way the teacher had fallen twitching to the floor.

“Let me guess,” Christian muttered. “No bullet was found, the wound was worse than it should have been?”

Keira nodded.

“Yeah,” Christian sighed, looking around. “Jay shoots entropy. Not sure if that’s something he inherited from his father or a gift of Kingu.”

“He’s not of the Old Blood.”

“It’s not just the Old Blood that sometimes have Kingu’s gifts,” Christian said. “And there’s other powers, like whatever Pitch is. Or Ashley.”

“I’m not scared of the elf,” Keira growled, fingers tightening around the hilt of her rapier. “Our people already conquered his. His being here is proof of that.”

“Right,” Christian smirked. “Nothing to worry about, then. And as for my brother, well, he’s got other things to worry about right now and I’m not exactly rattling a saber in his direction. He’ll leave me alone right now. Priorities and all that.”

They continued to walk south in silence, covering one another’s blind spots, keeping one another safe as the crowd got larger. There were maybe a few hundred people around them now and they kept towards the back of the platform where the Aswasi’atar would come, their backs to pillars in a small and defensible alcove.

Both of them knew that the chances of being attacked here were small. There were traditions that spoke against violence around the Aswasi’atar and there were eroseeqhi – Kinguim sorcerers – whose duty included the enforcing of those traditions. Challenging a sorcerer in his home was not a good idea, and breaking a tradition without good cause was a good way to draw all sorts of bad attention.

None of that made that tradition a law, though, and there were those that would risk anything to get what they wanted.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” Christian asked. “A year?”

“You’ve been here as long as I have,” Keira said, shuffling and nervous, staring at the place the Aswasi’atar would come to. The eroseeqhi had already gathered, drawing their etchings on the ground, lighting candles and incense to keep the ground holy.

“Your memory is better than mine.”

“What? Yes. A year. It’s been a year.”

“Nine-year-old Carmen Rosencratz,” Christian said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the pillar. “This should be interesting.”

Keira wasn’t sure what to say to that and so said nothing. There was a smugness to her ally that she often found grating, and this was one of those times. She wanted to hit him but swallowed the bile in her throat and the rustling in her belly – they needed one another, their alliance a mutually beneficial one that had worked out well since they had been children.

Purple-pink mist began to swelter out of the aether on the platform and an excited muttering began to waft through the crowd. The massive and shining black scales of the Aswasi’atar began to solidify out of nothing, the creature pulled out of the soul of the planet and made real. The eroseeqhi approached the creature as it faded from dream to flesh, using hand signs and words that crawled along the skin like spiders, lifting scales the size of cars up and open and revealing the people within.

A gaggle of nine-year-olds spilled out of the creature that had brought them here, brushing past the Aswasi’atar. Some returning students, older than the others, also made their way out – they all looked much more certain, pushing past the assembled children without paying them any heed.

Keira scanned the mass, looking for any sign of the girl that was more precious to her than anything else in the world, but all the kids were dressed in shades of purple and few of them carried anything from the world outside. Their parents would have warned them about standing out in the early days, Keira knew – her parents had done the same. It was important to be invisible until you had some place to retreat to once those you never wanted to notice you, did.

“Do you think you’ll spot her with that thing you do?” Christian asked. Keira grit her teeth and ignored him; he knew full well that wasn’t how an eidetic memory worked but he also liked to tease out the weaknesses of others and she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

Instead, she kept silent and continued to scan the crowd, in this instance no more skilled than anyone else might be when looking for someone important to them. She knew Carmen had always been on the small side, the slight side, and a small slight pretty girl coming alone to a place like this was a scary thing.

When she’d come here she and Christian had one another, had watched one another’s backs and had gotten themselves to the point where they were reasonably secure. The Amadus twins had come with one another and though their age had drawn interest, Lucia had been able to strike deals with people on the way in, deals that had served her well.

There’s an ambitious creature, Keira thought, smiling. I wonder what Carm will think of her…?

Most children coming to the Academy would have at least one ally, but Carmen’s difficulties kept her isolated mostly. The only people that she’d ever relied on that were her own age were Keira and Christian, and that was why Keira felt it important to be here and now and why Christian had come with her.

Carmen was all alone.

The crowd was noisy and nervous and a little scared. The eroseeqhi directed the kids away from the Aswasi’atar and the new arrivals would have had a chance to look over their pamphlets and maps and make their way to their new homes. Their parents and the pamphlets would have warned them to make alliances with others on the Aswasi’atar, to map a route to where they’d be living, to waste as little time as possible getting to the place they were supposed to be: Pitch’s people would be along in the morning to walk them through breakfast before taking them to the Trypper’s Tower to give them the same demonstration that still haunted Keira and had frightened Christian.

Better that, though, than some of the other horrors the Academy could offer. Custom kept people from attacking and nabbing the kids and the eroseeqhi would deal with violent offenders, but they could not be everywhere. Thomas Kiker, the person currently in charge of the slave pens, had some of his people here pretending to offer guidance to children that looked scared or lost. Keira could pick them out of the crowd easily enough, their smiling faces and gentle motions, the lies they spun to get kids to walk into the charnel house that Kiker called home.

She looked at the small groupings of frightened children that gathered around those faces, breathed a sigh of relief that she did not spy Carmen’s face among their number. She felt bad for that relief, though, and thought about saying something, doing something. There was a small girl with a cane who moved with halted half-steps, and the look on her face – the smile that curved her lips – was the saddest thing that Keira had ever seen, gratitude given to a slaver.

“Don’t,” Christian whispered, his hand brushing her shoulder. “They didn’t notice. We’re fine. There’s nothing we can do about it now.” She realized her hand had tightened around the hilt of her sword and she took a deep breath, slowly relaxing her fingers.

She realized her hand had tightened around the hilt of her sword and she took a deep breath, slowly relaxing her fingers.

A tug on her sleeve nearly made her jump out of her skin.

She turned, ready to draw her sword, a battle-cry dying on her lips as she took note of the person who now stood beside her, looking up at her.

“Keira?” asked Carmen, purple eyes wide. Her hair was a deep rust and she’d added a crimson streak to it, but she looked as good as ever had, looked better than she had in the dreams Keira told no one about.

“Carmen.” There was more warmth and wet in that single word than she’d meant to let out but in that moment she forgave herself. She let go of the sword, sweeping the small and slight frame into her arms, holding her, soaking in her scent. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I found you,” Carmen whispered, her fingers playing along Keira’s spine, her shoulders.

“Hey, I’m here, too,” Christian said. Keira let her friend go, let the two of them embrace as she took point, watching the milling crowd and some of the other people her own age who were watching with interest. She met their eyes, stared them down.

“We should leave,” Keira said. There was a milling group of five girls standing there, looking at them, girls that Keira didn’t recognize. Carmen let go of Christian.

“How do you always find us?” Christian grinned, ruffling Carmen’s hair as if she were a pet. It bothered Keira, the way Carmen pushed up into the ruffling.

Carmen had always been intuitive, always found her way around in the dark, always managed to catch up to people even when anyone else might have been lost. Her parents said it had something to do with her difficulties, but there was no sign of that in her eyes or stance right now and Keira had learned what to look for over long hours – a shadow in her eyes or a cruel twist to her lips or twitching fingers. Right now she was simply Carmen and that was all that mattered.

“I made some allies on the Aswasi’atar,” Carmen said, motioning at the five girls that were staring at them, looking nervous and fidgeting, keeping a polite distance from their small troika. Behind them, the eroseeqhi were preparing to send the Aswasi’atar on its way.

“Allies, eh?” Christian said, studying them with interest.

“I’m Keira,” Keira said, releasing her sword and stepping forward, keeping her tone polite and letting a little of the gratitude she felt slip in. “This is Christian. Who’re you?”

“My name is Michelle,” one of the girls said, pushing in front. She was pretty – some mix of European bloodlines, with an echo of the arrogance that Keira had come to associate with the Old Blood. “This is my bloc – Darcy, Jackie, Robin, and Helena.”

Keira smiled at the hubris of the statement; strong alliances at the Academy were called blocs: six individuals who tied their fates to one another, working to keep one another safe and further the interests of the group. Most people waited a year or two before committing to a bloc, if they ever did; she and Christian had been here almost two years now and the only close alliances they had made were with one another.

“You’re one shy of a bloc,” Christian noted, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the pillar, his eyes lazy and head tilted back.

He’s measuring them, Keira thought, looking for weakness.

“We make do,” the one named Jackie said, smiling. She had golden hair and a pretty face and stepped up with an easy familiarity. She was used to this, trained for this, and even at nine years old she was good at it. She drew attention like light attracting moths, but Keira had seen people more practiced at it than her and was able to turn away, to notice the way the small girl named Robin was staring at them, studying them with an intensity that mirrored Christian’s.

“It’s okay, guys,” Carmen said, but she had always been a little naive, a little confused, a failing inflicted on her by her unique circumstances.

“Your bloc,” Christian said, a lazy smile spreading across his lips without touching his eyes. He shook his head. “You just got here and you’re already talking blocs. You have any alliances? Know anyone else here worth knowing?”

“We have each other,” Michelle said, one hand on her hip, the other dangling uselessly by her side. “And we’re open to new faces.”

“There was someone on the Aswasi’atar that was following me,” Carmen said, tugging on Keira’s sleeve. “People my age, but they wanted… I had a feeling about them. When I ran I met these girls and they took me into their link.”

“You have a private link?” Keira asked, suspicious. “A whole link to yourselves?” That took a serious amount of wealth and pull, pacts with the eroseeqhi that were beyond the ability of even most Kinguim to grant. The sort of people that had their own links on the Aswasi’atar were dangerous and more than capable of setting up circumstances to fool poor slight girls who would already be nervous about coming here.

She thought about the people that had that sort of pull, the names of the Old Blood families cycling through her head. She didn’t know these girls, didn’t remember anyone of import named Michelle, didn’t know why someone just arrived would command the pull she clearly had on the other four girls.

“People that come here with a bloc in mind aren’t opening themselves up to new experiences,” Christian drawled, his tone keeping attention on him; she knew he was drawing their ire on purpose, letting her feel them out.

“We’re open to alliances,” Jackie said, her voice polite.

“What bloc are you?” Christian asked. “What title have you given yourselves?”

Michelle and Carmen both looked about to answer, but Keira realized who they were and beat them to the revelation, speaking the name out loud.

“Verene,” Keira said, staring, spitting the name as she spoke it. “These are the Verenes.”

“The Verenes?” Christian sneered and shook his head. “Kingu’s greatest failures? I didn’t realize there were any left.”

“Just us,” Michelle answered, but her eyes had narrowed, her shoulders tensing. “We make do.”

“Carmen, get behind me,” Keira demanded, holding up an arm protectively, her other hand going for her sword. One of the girls, bigger than the rest – Helena – stepped in front of the others. “It’s okay. Thank you for your service. You can go now.”

“Oh, by your leave,” the small girl, Robin, said. Her voice was mocking, her exaggerated bow an insult.

Keira paid it back with the exact amount of vitriol that motion deserved.

“Fuck you,” she said. The small girl looked like she might try something but Michelle put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head when Robin looked back at her. Robin muttered something, shaking, as Michelle pulled her people back, eyes never leaving them as they moved away and into the crowd and were gone.

“Why,” asked Carmen, licking her lips, “why did you do that?”

“She wouldn’t have been good for you,” Keira said, taking her hand off her blade and looking at her friend, hoping that she could make the other girl understand. “Do you know the Verenes? Who they are? What they did?”

“No, but I know she kept me safe,” answered Carmen, hugging herself.

“It’s okay.” Keira brought her closer, held her, thrilled a little to feel Carmen’s small arms wrapping around her, hugging her back.

“I don’t understand,” murmured Carmen. Keira could feel her tears through the shirt she wore.

“We’ll bring you up to speed,” Christian sighed. He pointed with his eyes and Keira followed his gaze, noticing that Kiker’s people had taken a casual interest in them. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’ll talk once we get back to my place.”

Read article

288

Fiction: Eyes Like Boxes, Mind Like Fire

Books & Writing, Culture

June 15, 2017

The boat was old, something they’d dug up from the mid-forties that looked more like a battleship than a commercial vessel, all sharp lines and doorways with wheels instead of handles. I squinted across the gangplank towards the party boat we’d rented for the weekend, my dreams of a picture-perfect first kegger party dashed.

“Where did Jason find this thing?” I asked my boyfriend, Justin. “It looks like a submarine fucked a sailboat.”

“I like it,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. “It’s bad ass. We don’t have to worry about breaking shit.” He grinned at Jason, who was in the process of exploring, opening doors and climbing up railings to look at the above deck. “Besides, we didn’t have to pay much for it, which means we have more money for beer.”

On cue, the rest of our party showed up: two teenage girls with a keg of beer between them, gasping from the weight.

“Hey Twins,” Jason called from his perch on one of the railings, his feet dangling over the water.

“Hey yah,” they said in unison, their voices strained under the weight of the keg. They set it down and studied the boat in front of them. They weren’t really twins; Puck was a year older than Pan, and they looked different enough that the non-familial connection was obvious. Ever since grade school, they’d been inseparable, though, and thus the nickname.

Jason ran off the boat and helped Justin take the keg from the women; “All aboard who’s going aboard. Welcome to your home for the weekend.” They walked up the plank, the dock bobbing under the weight of them and the keg.

“This looks safe,” Puck said as she joined me next to the boat.

“Safe like broken bottle,” said Pan. She hugged me before carefully walking across the black water below and onto the deck.

Puck followed her other half and left me alone on the dock. I looked over the side of the bobbing wood below me and into the inky black. I really didn’t like the look of any of this; it was all so different in my head. Nothing like how I’d been fantasizing all through school last week. I stepped onto the gangplank and started up to get ready for our gathering.

The walls were coated in faint scratches near the bottom and icy cold, the metal of the place quickly shedding what heat it had gained before the sun set an hour earlier. The upper deck had the wheelhouse, two bathrooms, a few sleeping quarters, and an extra room that was empty, probably for meetings. The bottom deck was a twisting maze of halls with a few more bathrooms and a galley that had a table perfect for our partying needs.

Justin already had the keg set up with a row of red plastic cups waiting to be filled ringed around it. I went to the cooler we’d brought along and began to help dishing out the food. Cupcakes, sandwiches, a few cliche party hats, and one big bowl of candy were soon spread out on the metal table.

As I unwrapped a Lemon Head and popped it in my mouth, I noticed Puck staring at something on the ceiling. There was a hole, the inside made of a of stained and slick looking synthetic cloth. I went to stand by Puck and examine it further.

“And more weird shit,” I said. “What do you think it is?”

“A garbage chute maybe? I don’t remember seeing anything upstairs though.”

Someone slipped their hands around me from behind and I smelled Justin’s cologne. He tightened his hug and nibbled on my ear. “What’s up, pup?”

My breath quickened. “Nothing. Just something weird Puck found.”

“Then come and have a drink with me.” He took my hands in his and led me to the drinks, giving me one of the red cups. I drank from it, the bubbly liquid making me blanch with its bitter taste. I kept drinking as Justin and I sat together on the floor, my head resting on his shoulder.

Across the room Puck and Pan were doing the same, the weird hole forgotten with drink and cuddling. Jason was eating a sandwich and watching an episode of some show on his tablet. I pressed myself into Justin and kissed his jaw before taking another sip of beer.

Sudden music came from Jason’s tablet, something by The Killers that was calm and frantic at the same time. He grinned as the Twins got up and began swaying to the music. I set my beer aside and stood, grabbing Justin’s hand and dragging him to his feet.

We danced, all of us together. Jason danced by himself, using the cheesiest moves he could think of. Puck and Pan, with fits of giggles, swayed next to each other in a way I was sure I’d seen in a cartoon when I was a kid. Justin and I took each other by the hand and started a fast paced waltz, his hand drifting slowly down as mine stayed on his shoulder.

The Killers gave way to the Gorillaz and the Gorillaz gave way to a techno song I’d never heard. Between the dancing, the eating, and the making out, we spent a few hours in bliss. My head felt heavy as I watched Puck kissing Pan, my face half pressed into Justin’s leather coat. Jason was on the table, lost in his own world as he continuously danced the grocery basket.

I smiled into my boyfriend’s chest and breathed deeply of his sweat-tinged cologne. I felt my way under his jacket to slide my hand along his stomach. Perfect night, perfect smell, perfect friends. I was glad Jason had found this place, glad for the music and the frothy liquid in my stomach. I leaned up to kiss Justin’s lips and let this perfect moment be even better.

A squealing came from the door at the far side of the room and over the music, I could hear the clunk of the lock falling into place. Jason stopped the song with a tap on his tablet and jumped off the table to inspect the only door out of this room.

“What the fuck?” Justin said.

“The door done locked us in, pard,” Jason said as he twisted the wheel inlayed in the door as hard as he could.

“Well shit,” I said.

“Is there another way out?” Pan asked.

Justin stood up and went to help Jason open the door as I went to look for another way out.

“Well, there’s the hole,” Puck wandered over to her discovery and stared up at it. “It’s got to lead to somewhere.”.

Justin and Jason walked over to the Twins and me, sweaty from the exertion of trying to pry open the door. We all stared at the hole above us, the opening looking yonic and wet.

“Who’s going first?”Jason asked

“Fuck that noise.” Justin hit Jason in the arm.

“I’ll go,” I said.

Justin boosted me up; his strong hands felt good and warm. I touched the cloth with my fingers and was surprised to find it was silky and dry. I grabbed a fistful of the lining and heaved myself into the blackness above.

The darkness pressed against me as I climbed, the cloak of cloth sliding against me and reminding me of the soft skin of my grandmother. The fistfuls of cloth made it easier than I expected and within a few seconds, I’d made it to another opening. Blue light met me as I climbed out onto the deck above.

Something was wrong with the light, the way it shone off the walls and the shadows it made. I stepped from the hole, my arms tired from the strength I had to use to ascend. I looked around for what was making that strange blue light and came up empty.

“You okay?” Justin called from below, his voice muffled and far away.

“I’m fine. You keep trying the door, I’ll look for a way out.”

I looked around the room I was in, really taking it in for the first time. It was like the rest of the ship, all steel and devoid of anything comfortable. Beside the entrance, I’d come from was an old-looking sledgehammer and a panel that would just fit over the hole, with a box of bolts beside it. Across the room was a door, the same as the others but slightly ajar.

“I found something,” I called down to my friends. “I’ll be right back.”

I stepped toward the open door, the blue glow strengthening as I fully opened the door. Outside was a hallway that stretched out in both directions, the glow coming from the walls. The steel of the ship had turned wrong, the rivets holding it together placed at random. I felt cold; the warmth from Justin’s hands still lingered on my hips and made the chill of the hallway more noticeable.

“Hello?” I called. Something answered, its whimpering carrying softly down the hallway from my left. I shivered at the inhuman sound, and anxiety spread through my stomach. “Is someone there?” I asked as I crept towards the noise.

The hallway curved in front of me and within a minute the door I’d come from was lost behind blue steel. I dragged my fingers across the wall as I walked, the steady bump of rivets keeping my tipsy mind focused on the task at hand. In front of me the whimpers continued, and seemed to be getting closer.

I stopped my march. I’d lost track of how much time had passed since I started but it didn’t seem possible for this hallway to fit in the boat I’d seen at the beginning of the night. Drunk or not, this didn’t feel like a good place to be. I had to find a way out fast.

The wolf stepped from behind the curve in front of me. Fire dripped from its lips as drool, spilling onto the floor to settle between its huge paws. It growled and moved closer as I froze in fear; a small gasp escaped my throat. I stared into its eyes, pupils square and black, as it tilted its head to let out a howl.

The howl was returned. From all around me the sounds of a wolfpack rebounded and turned my knees into jelly. From behind the wolf came a pack, each one as otherworldly as the one in front of me. They growled and I turned to run.

My heart thudded in my ears as I ran the way I came, the wolves close behind. I could hear their great paws thudding on the steel, echoing my footsteps. My leg muscles began to seize up as the dancing and drink of the night caught up to me. My vision started to blur, just as I saw the doorway peek out from behind the curve ahead.

Teeth clamped into my thigh and I fell. Pain spread from the bite, cold fire and needles. I kicked out with my good foot and felt the soft impact as the wolf let go. I was only a few feet from the doorway and — if I could get it closed — safety.

I pushed myself up, my leg screaming, and bolted through the doorway. I tried slamming the heavy metal shut behind me but it refused to close, the metal warped. I dragged over the box of rivets and braced the door as the wolves slammed into it. It wouldn’t hold for long.

“Tessa! Are you okay?” Puck called from below. They were still trapped down there, waiting for me to come back with news of a way out. Justin was still down there and if I ran the wolves would follow. I couldn’t let that happen.

I lifted the plate that I’d found earlier, the holes drilled in it matching up perfectly with holes ringing the yonic entrance I’d entered from. It slid into place and I put rivets into the holes; each one fit snug. I grabbed the sledgehammer and lifted it above my head, the wolves behind me growling.

The metal clanged as I brought the hammer down, slamming a rivet into place. Slam, clang. Another one home as the door creaked and began to move. Slam, clang. The door burst open, the box of rivets spilled out and across the metal floor. Slam, clang. The final rivet hit home as the wolves hit me in the back and knocked the hammer out of my grasp. I screamed as the wolves fell on me, their hot breath stinking of rotten eggs and grass. I began to cry as I waited for them to tear into my throat but instead I felt the soft touch of a tongue against my cheek. A wolf licked away my tears.

“Tess, come down! The door’s open and you’re scaring me,” Justin called from below. The wolves raised their heads and let out a singular howl.

==========


I stumbled on the graveled shoulder of the road. My injured leg burned and throbbed. The last thing I remembered was the wolves howling as tears streamed down my face and then I was walking down the road to my house. I could almost believe it was all a dream except the blood still caked on my pants.

The first rays of dawn stretched across the sky as the cul-de-sac where my house was, came into view, the street empty save for two figures walking along the shoulder. I recognized them and started running. It was Jason and Justin. I didn’t know how, but I was glad.

I screamed his name as I ran, ready to hug him, kiss him, press my face into that ridiculous leather jacket he always wore. As I put my arms around him from behind, they passed through him and I felt them touch. He stopped and turned, his eyes wide.

“Jason. Did you feel that?”

“What?” Jason turned and looked around for what was bothering his friend.

“I felt really cold all of a sudden, like, really cold,” Justin said.

“Must have been the wind. Either that or you’re still in shock.”

I deflated, all of the joy I had a moment ago drifting off and replaced by dread.

“Justin?” I tried to say, but all that came out were whimpers. I collapsed to my knees and stared into my boyfriend’s eyes as tears started flowing. Then there was pain, all through my body. I reached out to him, my fingers shimmering and morphing as they brushed his shirt. I screamed but all that came from my throat was a dog’s whine.

“Come to me,” said a voice, and the sky glowed with the blue light from the corridor. The wind picked up, swirling my hair around my face and biting into my bare shoulders. I screamed and my voice became a howl, others joining in all around me.

“The fuck man,” Jason said,” We should get inside fast. The cops will be here soon and we don’t want to get eaten by the some wolf before that.”

Justin stood, staring at me, looking through me. I tried to reach out for him again but my hands were useless now, my fingers turned to pads. I felt heat in my mouth and the aroma of rotten egg mixed with grass engulfed me. I looked into Justin’s eyes and my tears dried up.

I turned and ran, the voice still calling and my boyfriend still waiting for something to happen.

 

__________________________________________________________

Holly Sophia McCrea is a poet, artist, and short fiction writer from Vancouver BC. She’s been published in The Drabblecast audio fiction magazine and currently has a chapbook available on amazon.

Read article

216

Review: Instant Threatre – The LAB Presents The Cult

Comedy, Culture, Events, Improv, Performance, Reviews

June 15, 2017

Shawn Norman as The Cults leader

Welcome to the Family! The Cult is an improvised mockumentary featuring live interviews with ex-members and never-before-seen “footage” of life in a cult that we invent on the spot based on your suggestion! Just like a real cult, we’ll seduce you with all the good stuff: beautiful people, a charismatic (if narcissistic) leader, promises of secret knowledge and free love, and of course — all the sweet sweet Koolaid you can drink! The only difference is we’ll let you go home after…if you even want to.

With: Shawn Norman, Shane McLean, Julianne Hoyak, Kai Rudell, William Dunn, Janet Davidson, Geoff Walters, Julia Lank  Host/Filmmaker: Tia Glenn-Cooke

The brainchild of Tia Glenn-Cooke, The Cult brings forth the seedy underbelly of cults. Because this is improv the story is different every time… but the story of cults are usually the same. A charismatic leader, lies, deceit and of course the realisation that the leader is a monster. It is beautiful and if you ever have a chance to join the cult of THE CULT… drink the Kool-Aid.

Read article

638

Review: Lord of the Schwings: A Tolkien Burlesque Night at the Rio! by Kitty Glitter and Geekenders

Burlesque, Culture, Events, Interviews, Performance, Reviews, Showcase

June 15, 2017

 This was a great show! Full of a love of the mythology and respect for the fandom,”Lord of the Schwings: A Tolkien Burlesque Night” gave the audience an epic quest and an epic burly-boner. Filled with the type of things a good show should have jokes, jiggles and just plain fun.
Our host(ess) for the night was Lady Galadriel played by Seamus Fit-It-In who was transcendent and regal. Photo Credit Zemekiss Photography

Poutina Turner and Kitty Glitter playing Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee Photo Credit Zemekiss Photography

Jacob Woike and Jayne Fondue as Legolas and Gimli Photo Credit Zemekiss Photography

Sasja Smolders as Gandalf giving us some hot bearded wizard seduction. Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

“THE HAVE FIRE” Was gleefully screamed as we saw Lola Loops as Lord Sauron spin fire hoops the crowd was immediately turned up to 11 with excitement.  Photo Credit Zemekiss Photography

Vixen Von Flex as Balrog Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

Andrew Lynch as Pippin and Neville Powerbottom as Merry Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

Draco Muff-Boi as Gollum Photo Credit Photography

Kitty Glitter as Sam’s Taters Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

Trixie Hobbitses as Treebeard the Ent doing the longest tease ever Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

Ginger Femmecat as Arwen Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

Twerk Du Soleil as Shelob spraying silk over the audience Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

Orcs! Photo Credit By Zemekiss Photography

We also had the chance to talk to the producer of the show Kitty Glitter 
LMM: How long have you been working with Geekenders?
KG: I have been working with Geekenders ever since Jurassic Parody: The Musical (in October 2015). I saw the auditions listed online and knew I HAD to be in the show… It’s one of my favourite movies!
LMM: How do you pick the shows you produce?
KG: Most of the shows are picked about a year in advance. I have been involved with the company for a while now, and Fairlith Harvey (Owner/ Artistic Director of Geekenders)  trusts that I can put on a good show, so I am able to write my own shows (Mischief Managed, Lord of the Schwings), with help from my fiance, Seamus Fit-It-In.
LMM: Why Lord of The Rings?
KG: Why LOTR? Lord of the Rings has always been one of my favourite trilogies. It’s something that my entire generation has grown up with and loves unconditionally. The characters are so well known, and diverse. I knew we would be able to sell it out because pretty much everyone you talk to knows Lord of the Rings and loves it. Also, who doesn’t want to see Legolas strip?
LMM: Do you have any FAR OUR WEIRD ideas that you want to do but you are unsure if they would work?
KG: I have this idea of a men’s only burlesque show… but I feel like it might be hard to sell out. Seamus Fit-It-In and I are actually putting together a Tenacious D Burlesque Tribute show, which will be September 1st at the Rio Theatre. It’s also a bit of a “niche” crowd, but we hope that the fans are willing to come out to the show! We will have the “Hot & Heavy Band” playing all the songs live, and some heavy duty performers, so we know it’s going to be incredible.
LMM: What advice do you have for those who want to go into burlesque?
KG: My advice for people wanting to get into burlesque is first… GO SEE ALL THE SHOWS! You will learn so much. Also, take classes! Even if you think you are amazing, there is always something to learn. There are lots of classes around town… such as Burgundy Brixx’s “School of Tease” (http://www.burgundybrixx.com/classes.html)
LMM: If you had 20$ to spend at an airport what would you spend it on?
KG: $20 at an airport? Easy. Mini Eggs
LMM: Are their shows you want to promote either your own or others?
KG: Shows to Promote:

Harry Potter’s Burlesque Birthday Party – July 31 at the Rio Theatre
Lord of the Schwings REMOUNT – August 18 at the Rio TheatreTenacious D Burlesque Tribute with the Hot & Heavy Band – September 1st at the Rio Theatre

 

Read article

161

Fiction: Dearly Beloved

Books & Writing, Culture, Short Fictions

June 13, 2017

Beyond the end of the world, the end of all the worlds, is a place where they all meet. All manner of creatures and beings come here; it is a place of refuge, of shelter from the storm. And there is always a storm somewhere.

Time passes here, though not always in step with the many worlds it touches, and even here there is change. Consider the proprietress, the young silver-haired woman all in white whose true nature is betrayed only by the small nub of shimmering ivory in the center of her forehead. She accepted the task when her predecessor tired of it, the latest in a line of innkeepers stretching back through time immemorial – the latest in a long line of beings who found so much solace in the World’s End that they chose to remain here for much of their lives, abandoning the worlds that birthed them. They had each their good reasons for doing so, each a past so riddled with sorrow or anger that ‘home’ lost all meaning.

The lands of the fey are very beautiful, as are many of the fey themselves. The lands of the fey are also deadly to the unwary, both in body and soul, as are many of the fey themselves. Even in lands of such magic and beauty, a unicorn is a rare thing indeed, and much hated by the darker fey for its purity of nature and its magical light. Most of them are for this reason shy and retiring, preferring to hide among the ever-present foliage in the Summer Queen’s Great Forest, but this one could not.

Dahlia Shining Sun named herself in traditional fashion for the flowers that grew around her birthing nest when she came of age, for unicorns are not born of unicorns, and no matter their good intentions, her sire and dam could never hope to understand their daughter. Dahlia was never by nature the sort of creature that could easily hide. She grew at first bored and soon deeply frustrated with the self-imposed exile, and craved friendship; more than that, she craved adoration.

And this is how she nearly lost her life.

To we outsiders, the fey seem capricious agents of mischief. And indeed they are, but within the chaos is a core of rigid order. All fey owe their unswerving fealty to either the Summer or Winter courts, to lofty Oberon and distant Titania, or to dreaded Cernunnos and mad Maebhe, and the main part of that fealty is war. The Summer and Winter courts have been at war for so long now that not even the Kings and Queens remember why, but it is a deadly and vicious war for all that.

Oberil Wheatwhistle was born to and was for many years a member in good standing of the Court of Titania and Oberon. Their orders were easy enough to fulfil until the focus of the War shifted to bring the fey of the Wheatwhistle lands into direct conflict. Oberil was and is a pacifist, claiming that choosing to harm another creature, even a vassal of the Winter Court, is the greatest sin there is.

Thrice did the Queen and King of Summer ask Wheatwhistle to take up arms for the Summer; thrice the refusal came. This was itself an honor beyond measure – not the order to battle, but the three times asking. The monarchs of the Fey brook no disobedience and have destroyed others on the spot for far smaller infractions. Oberil may have somehow been blood of their blood to receive such a favor, as well as the sentence passed: exile instead of death outright… though exile from the lands of Summer means only the realm of Winter, and death would still be the inevitable result.

In the Winter lands, the sun had not set thrice before the young elf noble encountered a disturbing sight. In a clearing were many lesser creatures of the Winter court, boggarts and redcaps and kobolds, trolls one and all, stood in a grand circle laughing and jeering. In the circle was the unicorn, battered and bloodied but unbowed; the creatures had found her in the Summer fields and lured her with promises of love and adoration to the Winter lands, where they began their terrible sport. Whichever way Dahlia faced, whichever way she tried to charge to end the torment and break free of her captors, the rocks and arrows and blades that harried and tortured her came always from behind; in front, she encountered instead pikes and torches that would drive her back to the center.

Oberil’s heart melted at once. Here was a better reason to take up arms than a thousand thousand years of politics. If protecting innocence was not a noble battle, nothing was. So the exile charged into the ranks of the trolls and scattered them to the four winds; they were no match for the singing blade of a full-blooded Summer Court warrior, exile or not.

This done, the elf went to render aid to the unicorn, but instead of gratitude was met with fury. Blinded with rage and terror, Dahlia charged her would-be savior, her horn cutting a furrow into Oberil’s side. Realizing she thought herself still under attack, Wheatwhistle ran; and when Dahlia gave chase, the young noble realized that after all this time in the dark lands, the only way to save the unicorn would be to lead her back to the light – despite the terms of exile imposed by the Summer Queen.

For three days and nights they ran, and whenever they met Dahlia inflicted another wound on Oberil before the elf evaded her and ran again. Oberil refused all this time to simply escape, leaving Dahlia still in the dark, until finally they burst into the Summer fields, where the noble collapsed.

Dahlia rushed in to destroy her quarry, believing this would free her once and for all, but at that moments the clouds parted and the shock of the bright Summer sun after all the darkness cleared her mind. The unicorn realized she was free, and it was her liberator she was about to kill. She fell to her knees instead and cried over the still form of the elf that risked everything to bring her back into the light.

They say unicorn tears can heal. Sometimes… they are right.

True love does not come at first sight, no matter what the stories say. But sometimes it is fated, and blossoms from even the harshest of beginnings. Oberil Wheatwhistle is an exile from two lands of the Fey that both promised an undeserved death, and finally found solace here beyond the end of the worlds. And Dahlia is here because there is nowhere else in all the worlds or beyond she would rather be than here, with the elf who proved more noble than Summer and Winter combined.

And she calls herself Dahlia Dearly Beloved now, because after all those years, she finally is.

Read article

222

Wonder Woman Critical Analysis Part 2 of 2

Culture, film, Opinion, Reviews

June 12, 2017

So… Wonder Woman. It came out. It hit theaters. People discovered it was there and went to see it and it’s going to dominate the month of June and there’s little chance of anything toppling it.

And with good reason. It’s awesome stuff – easily the strongest of the DC movies, as good or better than most of what Marvel has on tap. Better than any of the Hulk movies, for example. Better than the second Avengers movie. Definitely better than anything Fox or Sony has put out using Marvel’s properties.

But why? Why is it working so well?

The reason is subtlety in both what happens in the movie and around it, and in an understanding of what the character is about and her evolution. We are told and shown a creation epic that is sort of at odds with what we know about the Greek Pantheon (spoiler: all of them are dicks except Hades, who is just really good at his job) in that they created humans (no), were happy about it (definitely not happy so much as amused), and were all eventually killed by Ares (what? No. Kratos did that).

But, whatever. We’re playing with building on a mythology and they can do whatever they want provided it’s internally consistent with itself – and it is. According to the movie, the Amazons are created by the gods to shepherd men away from being terrible people.

They’re thinkers and philosophers who get good at fighting because they have to go into where the fighting is worst and calm things down so that everyone can talk, and they fight like it: the Amazons are graceful and do impossible things in order to stop the fighting quickly, but they’re also cut off from the rest of the world. They have an academic understanding of war and of men and have drawn their own conclusions on both for thousands of years without seeing the reality of either.

When war comes to their island because Diana exposed her godhood they show that the techniques they’ve developed are good but also flawed; they adapt quickly and win the day, but they are horrified by the loss of Robin Wright – and who wouldn’t be? She’s Princess Buttercup and the President of the United States and a General. She’s awesome. None are more devastated by her death than Diana – she’s never dealt with loss or violence before and she knows Ares is responsible because, unlike the other Amazons, she’s never met a human before and she’s made some pretty naive decisions about both humanity and war.

See, Child Diana is excited by the possibility of war, like some children are. She wants to be a warrior and she wants to fight and she wants to save the world from Ares: there is a singular bad person that she can punch and if she wins then humanity will be saved. Good and simple, clean and easy.

Diana imagines herself to be the champion of humanity but she’s never seen violence and that shows in her eagerness in learning how to fight and even to get to the fight – remember, she thinks if she beats Ares that the fighting ends. We can juxtapose this with her world-weariness in modern times, in the bookends to this film and to Gal Gadot’s performance in Batman v Superman. There’s a clear line of growth through the movies that retroactively makes Batman v Superman better (but still not good). She gets a sword and a shield and everything.

The thing is, the villain of the film isn’t the Germans or even Ares but war itself. There were no good people in World War 1 and the movie goes out of its way to show the serious flaws of both sides, and even of Diana’s belief structure. The sword is a lie and is dismissed out of hand by Ares when we meet him, laughed off and melted as if it never was. The power to defeating war comes not from violence but from understanding, from talking, from within – it comes from a divinity that may or may not exist but one we all believe in, that place where angel meets ape.

It doesn’t stop there, though: the western powers are not shown to be any better than the Germans they’re fighting. Both sides use gas (there’s a reason that the Germans are wearing masks), both sides target civilians and dismiss those casualties, both are just as bad as the other. The leadership on both sides are also trying to negotiate peace but are meeting resistance by the war-obsessed members of their own people and peers, making this a four-way conflict between the people fighting and themselves, the ones who are fighting and ones who want peace.

We see how war and society has broken people – a sniper who can’t fire a gun, an actor who couldn’t get work before the war because of his skin color, a man who left his home because his home was destroyed. Those are people who were harmed by the so-called good guys and are still part of those good guys, losers who are also lost but are still struggling to find a way to help.

On the bad side we have a man so obsessed with winning that he’ll kill his own men out of hand, a broken woman who understands the science of death but has forgotten the humanity that was scoured from her, and a god who encourages the worst parts of humanity but doesn’t actually make anyone do anything. The evil is us and our need for control and dominance, the toxic aspects of our culture that is so set on competition and zero-sum games, and that’s a harder story to tell than a giant beam in the sky that makes clouds look weird and does… something.

I’m looking at you, pretty much every other movie that has superheroes in it.

Diana calls all of them out on all of their shit: she storms into an all-male war room and demands attention because she’s knowledgeable about war and has actionable intelligence and she has no time for the seedy posturing bullshit of that era. The fact that she’s dismissed out of hand for reasons of gender mystifies her, and the chicanery needed to get her to the front lines makes her just as angry as not being allowed to go in the first place. She despises the men who are willing to let others die for no reason other than to assuage their own egos. She blames a man for being Ares, not understanding that he is only a man and needing to learn otherwise. No one is honest and that dishonesty is infuriating and damages everyone and she will force the truth from us all if that’s what it takes to make us our best selves.

Wonder Woman calling that room of men out on their shit is just as important as stepping into No Man’s Land. It’s a thing I think 51% of the audience understands implicitly, but something that the other 49% might need attention drawn to. So, here it is guys: attention on a thing you might have missed.

But let’s go back to something that’s sticking in a lot of craws: comic Wonder Woman fought in World War II, not World War I – so why the change? The answer is complex: the Nazis were dyed-in-the-wool evil in a way that people seem to have forgotten. The Holocaust wasn’t evil because Nazis did it – Nazis were evil because they did the Holocaust. Despite what Marvel comics might want you to believe there’s no gray area: the systematic destruction of an entire group of people is evil and needs to be fought sat every turn. The idea of genocide and virtue of extreme selfishness doesn’t get a seat at the table and doesn’t get listened to, it gets punched in the face and sent running.

The point of this movie is that war itself is wrong, yes, but by making this story about the first World War we know the second follows, and we know that happens without Ares and despite Wonder Woman.

World War II is therefore not the fault of some external thing; it is the fault of humanity, itself, and the responsibility for the Holocaust lies at the feet of all humanity.

And so does World War I. Ares was right and telling the truth – he made things worse, certainly, but he only played on the ambitions and selfishness of his victims, allowing them their ability to kill as they saw fit. He’s an afterthought and his death doesn’t end the war so much as allow Diana to see the depth of her true enemy.

That’s why this movie is great. That’s why it’s going to speak to 51% of the audience specifically and everyone in general, why the character of Wonder Woman earns her spot as one of DC Comics’ holy trinity alongside Batman and Superman. This is how and why a DC Comics movie is going to rule over the month of June, and if this is a sign of things to come from Geoff Johns taking the helm, well, we have much more hope for everything to come.

Now, here’s the thing: I’m a male presenting asexual agender person, so there’s definitely going to be things I missed and I’m eager to learn and listen. So… what’d I miss?

Read article

Content Warning: Erotic Fanfiction Deathmatch

Books & Writing, Comedy, Culture, Events

June 12, 2017

In Vancouver we’re a little spoiled for choice when it comes to entertainment, especially indie-run live nerdy and comedic show. I’m definitely not complaining when there’s such excellent acts out there like Geekenders, the Fictionals, and West Coast Geeks vs. Nerds, just to name a few. Mockingbird Media Entertainment’s new offering, Content Warning: Erotic Fanfiction Deathmatch, fits right in with this community and promises a monthly competition over who gets to claim the title of Ultimate Smutmaster. As you might imagine, things get a little steamy…

The premise of the show is to have local authors create their best (or worst) smutty fanfiction along the month’s theme and these works of fiction are then read aloud for the crowd by professional actors. At the end, the crowd votes for their favorites, and then the Ultimate Smutmaster is crowned, to be brought back to defend their title at a later date. It’s a good, simple framework that ran very smoothly, even when this month’s voting resulted in a tie.

This month the theme was “Remember the 90s”, and the audience began the evening enjoying a playlist of 90s hits, often breaking out into spontaneous sing-alongs – Backstreet’s back, alright?! Seven Dining Lounge, which is a familiar haunt for a number of great local entertainment acts, was standing-room only by the time the show began. Our host, Jesse Inocalla, in purple gator-skin Fluevogs and a velvet jacket, made sure to check that we were all ready and eager to participate in some sexy shenanigans (emphatic consent!!) before ushering us back to the time of Saturday morning cartoons, neon patterned everything, and not-so-innocent fantasies.

I was a bit surprised to discover that the actors were going in to the readings cold, but despite the lack of practice ahead of time they all did quite a good job, adding voices and pauses and inflection to hit the right mood, and often their own shock and laughter over the content of the scripts added to the humour. Still, it might be worth considering letting them have at least one read-through, or if not the producers might at least color code the various characters’ dialogue so that it will be easier for the actors to switch appropriately.

With actor and writer set up on stage, the fun was ready to begin. The actors were encouraged to pause and interrogate the writer at any time. And both the writers and actors were given a chance to plug whatever other artistic endeavors they wanted to publicize, which I really appreciated. It’s always nice seeing the community support each other! The audience was given a chance to ask a few questions after each story as well, often with hilarious results.

Our first story was by Little Miss Tristan Risk – an untitled fiction starring none other than Wolverine. It was read by Ariel Hansen, who gave it a sultry quality that suited the story. Set in a small town in the Kootenays, our nameless protagonist was a cynical rock chick who decides to hit the local watering hole for a bit of fun… or trouble. The story had a lot of lead-up, describing the protagonist’s beauty routine with vivid imagery. As a piece of fiction it was well written, but it seemed to lose the crowd as they waited for the smut to begin. Wolverine, who “tasted like exotic masculinity” (apparently cigars and beer are exotic in small mountain towns?), may have a thing for the vanilla essential oil worn as perfume by the protagonist, but the crowd seemed to be craving a different flavor. We didn’t need to wait long.

The second story was by David Marino – another untitled piece featuring Goofy, Donald Duck, Mickey, and an unnamed protagonist. The protagonist is described as an important businessman, so in my head I think it’s Scrooge McDuck, but whomever you imagine will do. This was a story that had everyone in the room rapt and gasping for breath (because of the constant laughter, you pervs). Expertly read by deliberately foppish Seth Gordon Little, the story begins with our protagonist out cruising in a park where he runs into Goofy and Donald and Mickey, and after he “enthusiastically consented to [their] forthcoming merger”, he participated in a gay threesome (with Mickey creepily watching since he has about as much genitalia as a Ken doll). At the end, the protagonist “liquidated his assets” and the audience similarly exploded into thunderous laughter, applause, and a sincere standing O.

Story number three was titled “Holiday in the Evening”, written by Jenna Sokalski and set in the beautifully 90s world of Daria. Performed by Luchagore’s Gigi Saul Guerrero, it was transformed into a Latin-infused fanfiction that was surprisingly sweet and earnest.  Gigi gave it a lovely quality as she added sound effects and laid on her accent as thickly as she could, easily selling Daria’s “ecsta-CI!!” in her beach encounter with Trent. The ending got a little confusing due to cameos from season 3 characters from Holiday Island, a little-known reference that won over the truest Daria fans. Overall, a tender teen moment that was surprisingly charming.

Gigi stayed where she was, ready to perform the next one. The fourth fic was written by Tanner McCoolman; a crossover romp with SpongeBob and Mojo Jojo titled “Sponge Monkey Mayhem”. The premise of the story was that Mojo Jojo had set up a not-very-convincing fake casting couch for a non-existent adult film company, and a broke SpongeBob auditions hoping to earn some money. The fiction began with pure psychological body horror a la Kafka’s Metamorphosis, as SpongeBob began fingering his holes and growing more arms and fingers to finger all of his holes. There was also a creepily pointed anti-child molestation PSA related to Bubbles the Powerpuff Girl and an off-colour explanation about how SpongeBob was intersex due to genetic mutation brought on by Agent Orange, but some moments were gold: the tsunami climax as they “Californicated” particularly stands out. Gigi’s performance of the voices for both Mojo Jojo and SpongeBob were also superbly on point.

With all of the laughter and smutty depravity, we all needed a break. After a brief intermission, we dove right back into the fray, with Seth Gordon Little returning to voice Lyssa Strata’s tale: “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Secret of the Ooze”. A sweaty summer training session with April and Michelangelo turns into a hilarious (and well-researched) birthday gangbang, eventually incorporating all four turtles and Master Splinter. Seth was the perfect actor for the job and as before the audience was howling with laughter as he expertly delivered the deliberately cheesy, reference-laden smut. Even Seth had to pause for another drink. After a gooey climax, many in the audience were on their feet again, clapping, and Seth delivered his heartfelt compliments both to Lyssa and David Marino for their excellent work on Seth’s favorite childhood characters.

The sixth fiction was a fantastic gay BDSM scene created by Zhora Kys; an X-Men offering titled “Savage Land” starring Professor X, Magneto, and Sinister. Performed by the delightful Draco Muff-Boi, it was a saucy romp realistically describing the experience from Charles’ perspective as a bottom, relishing the sting of whips. The dynamic between Charles and Erik was particularly believable to anyone familiar with the D/s relationship. It definitely left many in the audience feeling a little hot and bothered.

Next was Zachary Taylor’s “Too Blue For You”; another crossover piece starring Sonic the Hedgehog and Genie from Disney’s Aladdin. Ariel Hansen returned to perform the story, providing us with a hyper, youthful Sonic, and a creepy, fourth-wall breaking Genie. This was a 90s extravaganza as Sonic finds himself in a strange land: first passing through the LA riots before ending up in Disneyland. There, he meets Genie, who is, of course, a Dom. The audience soon realizes that you can’t make a wish while wearing a ball-gag, as Genie turns poor Sonic into his “living cock puppet”. Moments of humor, like the revelation that Genie’s “onmipodick” tastes like blueberries, were interspersed with uncomfortably graphic, stomach-turning scat-porn erotica. Laden with author’s notes and ending with Sonic’s “hog juice”, it was truly an example of the depths of depravity that fanfiction can feature!

The final offering of the night was a Buffy the Vampire Slayer story centered on Angelus and Spike. Written by a published novelist – Mistress Ivy – the tale was steamy and well-written. Titled “Troublemaker”, it was performed by Draco Muff-Boi who tried valiantly to use an Irish accent for Angelus and an English accent for Spike. In the story, fans were treated to a realization of their teen fantasies as Angelus showed Spike what trouble truly is. Spike made a good, bratty bottom, as the long tensions between the two vampires results in a sexy showdown where Angelus wins. I ship it.

All eight stories completed, the hosts collected the tiny voting slips. I couldn’t help but think there must be an app for that, but maybe they’ll have that minor wrinkle ironed out for the second show. The voting resulted in a tie between audience favorites David Marino and Lyssa Strata, so Jesse called for a cheer-off. I feel this was the perfect ending, as both writers provided the best entertainment of the night and deserved the feeling of recognition and pride (or shame?) by being called up for this final tie-breaker. The roars for both were deafening, but Lyssa Strata’s TMNT fiction had won the audience, and she was crowned the Ultimate Smutmaster. And with that, the first show came to a close, and, like many of the story characters, we felt satisfied… if a bit dirty.

All in all, Content Warning is solid entertainment, offering what people want: comedy, geeky references, and, of course, sex. I’m sure it will continue to be a popular addition to the local roster of shows.

Read article