tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54545871408875918172024-03-19T04:46:54.836-04:00Tales of the Grotesque and DungeonesqueJack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comBlogger1411125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-26666030247284882752024-03-17T22:05:00.000-04:002024-03-17T22:05:24.863-04:00Helena and Ivara Graymalk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmgctG5zXSjd5dl6l9sqtMdhDzt_pk4YMNfyhjU2OZgn-h-fCOZ4Pc0PR1rZB4X5w0YTWW430WQunDVc-iQkO4U78A_MpTlEmq43-wP-XY56kZKAdwYX4PJWl-C8o9Nx7ND9cNSN9HAQ5279Gwtp30OFHKrMxYmi_ZJpN_4jsh9SkliKOlTguxzb7INc/s1000/bafkreibb4ddypi6rh6uljbjvri4eac5to4ila3sahthjndkc4xdlrn6hhe.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="584" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmgctG5zXSjd5dl6l9sqtMdhDzt_pk4YMNfyhjU2OZgn-h-fCOZ4Pc0PR1rZB4X5w0YTWW430WQunDVc-iQkO4U78A_MpTlEmq43-wP-XY56kZKAdwYX4PJWl-C8o9Nx7ND9cNSN9HAQ5279Gwtp30OFHKrMxYmi_ZJpN_4jsh9SkliKOlTguxzb7INc/s320/bafkreibb4ddypi6rh6uljbjvri4eac5to4ila3sahthjndkc4xdlrn6hhe.jpg" width="187" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Hemlock Hollow’s most powerful villains are Helena and Ivara Graymalk, two Devil-bound witches.</span></div><div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Helena Graymalk</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Helena Graymalk is the matriarch of the Graymalk family and the unofficial burgomaster of Hemlock. The townsfolk look to her for guidance, as it is acknowledged openly that her witchery keeps the town and its mines thriving. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Appearance:</i></b> Helena appears to be a comely woman in her mid-thirties; she is especially proud of her mane of curly auburn hair. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Personality:</i></b> She finds pleasure in exercising power and bending others to her will.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Motive:</i></b> She hopes to summon the Devil from Hell so that he might bring the world under his sole dominion.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Flaw:</i></b> She knows that if she were to ever displease her master, he would revoke her longevity and let time ravage her body.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Ivara Graymalk</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Although she plays the part of a bookish and naive young woman, Ivara Graymalk is an accomplished witch who does the Devil’s bidding. She is unafraid of using others to get what she wants. Ivara is currently Helena Graymalk’s favored child, but they both know it is inevitable that they will strive against each other.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Appearance: </i></b>Ivara poses as innocent and scholarly girl, dressing like a prim and proper schoolteacher, but this guise is calculated to make her appear harmless or perhaps even in need of protection. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Personality:</i></b> She is a patient schemer.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Motive:</i></b> She desires to replace her mother as matriarch of the Graymalk witches.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> • <b><i>Flaw:</i></b> She burns with impatience to to recognized as a powerful witch in her own right.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div></div>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-61198059455788733752024-03-13T21:49:00.000-04:002024-03-13T21:49:45.582-04:00The Philosophy of Hellraiser, Devil's Rejects: Anatomy of a Franchise, The Crow<p><span style="font-size: large;">Three videos that I think are worth your time:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xZBFxX5Obyk" width="320" youtube-src-id="xZBFxX5Obyk"></iframe></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Morbid Zoo, The Philosophy of Hellraiser</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Really solid analysis of <i>Hellraiser</i> and how it transcends a Judeo-Christian understanding of its main themes.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MOazcIep5PI" width="320" youtube-src-id="MOazcIep5PI"></iframe></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>In Praise of Shadow, The Devil's Rejects: Anatomy of a Franchise</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don't agree with everything in this retrospective on Rob Zombie's "Firefly Family" movies, but there's a lot here for fans of the movies.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xrW-dx7URn8" width="320" youtube-src-id="xrW-dx7URn8"></iframe></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Cartoonist Kayfabe, The Crow</b></span></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is pure appreciation of a classic comic. It makes me want to dig it out and read it again.</span></div></div>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-30966657810768441672024-03-11T04:32:00.000-04:002024-03-11T04:32:08.325-04:00Our Lady of the Blood Reborn<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdyB1tn5A8NvTJ2fR1sJA4YuKnQNBVGQDOmotslfO1adv2-G_22s2ZZA1GbreQm5XHsF7JEC3ILgeXSCLZREgSIgLSlGSYZ_ot_L5UrkUg-7VYJjiRWUvfs3TZmU8bSYuf2Zl2KhKThhUoFQfx5WjcIShpYZbjctIm_mfO23C7MtM77vZUHTQJtxPdDo/s1920/trac-vu-qE4affJTtCQ-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1920" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdyB1tn5A8NvTJ2fR1sJA4YuKnQNBVGQDOmotslfO1adv2-G_22s2ZZA1GbreQm5XHsF7JEC3ILgeXSCLZREgSIgLSlGSYZ_ot_L5UrkUg-7VYJjiRWUvfs3TZmU8bSYuf2Zl2KhKThhUoFQfx5WjcIShpYZbjctIm_mfO23C7MtM77vZUHTQJtxPdDo/s320/trac-vu-qE4affJTtCQ-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">After a big cliffhanger last time with the arrival of a mysterious stranger, we had to wait a week to pick up our Savage Krevborna campaign. We are definitely in the part of the campaign where the consequences of prior adventures are now coming home to roost. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina, unconventional prioress</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pendleton, rogue anatomist</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul, necromancer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd, swashbuckling nobleman</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona, dhampir gunslinger</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Panthalassa, empowered feral child</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Asudem, undead antiquarian</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Events</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina, Panthalassa, and Serafina approached the Convent of the Blood Reborn from the road. They found the gate in the outer wall guarded by two templars, who relieved them of their more obvious weapons before letting them inside. Upon entering the convent's chapel, they found a nun, Sister Bronwen, praying at the altar. Posing as folks in need of healing, Catarina and Panthalassa expressed interest in taking advantage of the convent's sanitarium treatments. Serafina posed as their servant, but took the first opportunity to sneak away.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sister Bronwen took the pair on a tour of the facilities, which included some grim, asylum-like treatment rooms and an operating theater, and also performed an examination of both women--though she could find nothing physically wrong with either of them. Panthalassa had to distract the nun while Catarina stripped to make sure that Sister Bronwen didn't notice Catarina's hidden pistols.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After signing themselves over into the convent's care, Panthalassa and Catarina were shown to their lodgings in the infirmary ward. Inside was a tall young woman who bore a resemblance to Raoul. They had discovered where Lenore had been stashed away in the convent! Once the nun had left, they introduced themselves and told Lenore that they were friends of her brother and that her rescue was immanent. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Meanwhile, Geradd had independently made his way to Selvik's Hollow because his great enemy, Cardinal Radinov, had been spotted headed for the town. (Cardinal Radinov had a habit of extorting noble families for tithes to the Church; Geradd's family had suffered the Cardinal's depredations.) As Geradd approached the Green Cauldron inn, he saw Raoul, Daytona, Pendleton, Asudem, and the Widow talking to a very tall, pale man of military mien out front. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The stranger was exceedingly polite and introduced himself as "Count M." Count M. invited the group to dinner; Daytona wanted to decline, but he felt the Count bending his will. Count M. remarked, "Extraordinary how quickly the fog rolls in." When the group turned to look, they watched as a solid wall of gray fog sped down the valley, obscuring everything from view.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once the group retired to their rented chambers, Daytona was able to divulge Count M.'s identity: they had come face-to-face with Count Magnus Draghul, one of the more powerful and feared vampire nobles of Sibersk. During this conversation, part of Daytona's history was revealed: he outed himself a dhampir. Later, during dinner hosted by Count Magnus, the vampire lord made it clear why he had taken an interest in the group: when they killed Countess Vlodeska, they killed a vampire of his bloodline. As recompense, he wanted one of the party to take her place as one of his vampire vassals. However, he was willing to give them time to think over who the sacrificial lamb shall be; after all, he has eternity on his side.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina and Daytona communicated via the psychic connection enabled by one of the bone daggers in the prioress's possession. Daytona informed Catarina about Count Magnus. Asudem brought a very excellent plan to the fore here as well: he had Catarina summon the convent's matria, tell the nun that the real reason they had sought sanctuary was that there was a vampire afoot, and pleaded with her to send templars to hunt the undead beast in town. This would at least keep Count Magnus busy while they attempted to rescue Emily and Lenore from the convent.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Under the cover of the unnatural fog, the rest of the group was able to make their way to the convent unseen. They found a hastily constructed rope ladder thrown over the convent wall. Once again utilizing the psychic connection, the group was able to locate the infirmary. However, they saw that there was a figuring lurching toward them down the dark hall; the figure was dragging something heavy with it. When the figure heaved into Daytona's eyeline, it was revealed to be Serafina, who was dragging Panthalassa's maul--which she had managed to steal from the guards at the front gate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul and Lenore had a touching reunion. The Widow was put in charge of Lenore's safety while the group searched for Emily's body in the convent. Exploration led them to an elevator guarded by a nun and several templars. After battling their way down into the next level of the convent, the group were confronted by another nun and more templars. The nun used her miraculous prayers to bolster the armor of the templars, making them quite difficult for the party to put down. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Things went from bad to worse as waves of enemies began to stream in from adjoining doors. Sister Mary Augustine, the convent's matria, arrived with templars in tow. Catarina managed to put two bullets into the matria, but before she died she uttered a prayer and struck Catarina with a cat o' nine tails; the lash blazed with holy light and sent Catarina to the ground incapacitated. Cardinal Radinov also arrived with a squad of templars. "Geradd, I should have known that you would be involved in this!" he bellowed as he attacked the swashbuckler with a poisoned sword. Geradd was grievously injured, but he managed to rally and plunge his glaive through the cardinal's heart. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After a harrowing battle, the group stood victorious and was able to tend to their wounded. They quickly explored the remaining chambers of the convent's cellar until the found a ritual chamber with twelve incorruptible corpses in glass caskets arranged in a circle. At the center of the circle was an empty pedestal. They quickly identified the casket that held Emily's remains. Before they made their escape, Pendleton sawed the heads from the rest of the corpses so that they could not be used in the ritual; he took them as objects of scientific curiosity for Viktoria Frankenstein to examine.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Before leaving Selvik's Hollow, they stopped in to see the apothecary. Irena had packed up all of her belongings and moved on, but she left behind a letter for them under a rock painted with peonies. The letter read:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>If you want to return the dead to life, you may wish to seek the Mantle of Iron Tears–a magical artifact crafted by the first members of the Crucifuge. As I am sure you are well aware, the ultimate goal of restoring life to the departed requires a tremendous amount of arcane energy and occult mastery. It’s also an endeavor fraught with peril. Even the slightest mistake can prove catastrophic. The Mantle of Iron Tears can mitigate that peril.</i></span></p><p><i><span style="font-size: large;">If you wish to lay your hands on the Mantle of Iron Tears, it was last known to be hidden among the oddities of the Skarnesti Circus.</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Will the group find the Mantle of Iron Tears and be able to restore Emily to life? Will they choose one of their number to join Count Magnus Draghul among the undead or will they stand defiant against him? When will Dorian Margrave call upon them to honor their commitment to him as he plans for conquest? And what of the Brineblade and its ties to the Cult of Scylla? </span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-46590057489470995742024-03-05T22:08:00.000-05:002024-03-05T22:08:29.464-05:00The Liturgy of the Twelve Radiant Apostles<p style="text-align: left;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjyMLelxH_4zDQO-GUJvubT-2Z7QAvc-WSk1uyAfXrYAtmm_oIm7zVsGyID2cOQpgvo8Vlqr47ErEfMZEOAKk5M0_DP-27pZ5dT9vu298ShNC_UKECFky1RwAjofzf_qk1oO4dah731Bdcs28Ka6IizGuL8h-BzN3dQgYmMchHaNnkQajmEItCPWNjiU/s830/image.png" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="557" data-original-width="830" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjyMLelxH_4zDQO-GUJvubT-2Z7QAvc-WSk1uyAfXrYAtmm_oIm7zVsGyID2cOQpgvo8Vlqr47ErEfMZEOAKk5M0_DP-27pZ5dT9vu298ShNC_UKECFky1RwAjofzf_qk1oO4dah731Bdcs28Ka6IizGuL8h-BzN3dQgYmMchHaNnkQajmEItCPWNjiU/s320/image.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Theory board" made by Pendleton's player</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">After a cliff-hanger in our last Krevborna game, we reconvened a month or so later to see how our "heroes" deal with the new twist that promises to complicate and comprise their lives. We left off last time with Raoul receiving a letter that caused him to visibly pale; at the start of this game, the rest of the players found about about the contents of the letter: the magically preserved corpse of Raoul's beloved, Emily Rosaline Daae, had been stolen from the secret crypt in which she rested. </span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pendleton Torst, rogue anatomist</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina Redmoor, prioress of an unusual convent</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Panthalassa Laurentide, a very weird orphan</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul Carathis, necromancer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona Midnight, dhampir gunslinger</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Asudem, a drowned antiquarian brought back from the dead</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Events</span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once the party left Port Omera, the warm, sultry trade winds gave way to a howling tempest that buffeted and rocked the vessel they had booked passage on. Despite the violent gales, which did their best to send their ship to a watery grave, they eventually reached Piskaro. When they disembarked, the weather hadn’t improved. It was now the tail end of winter, and the pounding rain turned the snow and frozen earth to a morass of mud and slush. The group opted for speed over comfort, hiring horses and sleeping rough in the cold to make their way to Creedhall in haste.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Widow was waiting for them with Viktoria Frankenstein's boat and dry cloaks. After the Widow ferried them to Viktoria's island at the center of Loch Riven, they had a brief encounter with Father Prim, the strange fey creature employed as guardian of the isle. He dragged a metal pail from his cottage because he had something to show Pendleton. After rummaging around in the pail, and tossing out a severed foot and an unidentifiable chunk of meat, Father Prim produced the head of the leader of the Black Rats gang--his mouth still hanging wide open in a silent scream. According to Father Prim, the remaining Black Rats had become desperate to locate and apprehend Pendleton, so they came to the island in search of him. In Father Prim's words, this was "a big mistake."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At Chateau Frankenstein, they were fed and given a place to rest before setting off to investigate the theft of Emily's corpse. The Widow and Serafina offered to accompany the group on this quest, but first Viktoria had her construct servants bring forth a number of belated Khristmas presents for each member of the party. Panthalassa received a maul made from galvanic stone; Catarina was given a number of pretty (and armored) corsets; Daytona was gifted a masterwork pistol and several special bullets; Pendleton was given what appeared to be a sheaf of paperwork; Raoul was presented with a reanimated draft horse to pull his cart; and Asudem was entrusted with a reanimated cat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Under the cover of night, the group stole into the secret tomb Emily had been taken from within Blackwater Estates. Catarina found a dropped medallion depicting St. Filiona; the medallion was identified as being from a convent known as Our Lady of the Blood Reborn. Asudem examined the secret door and determined that it had not been forced; whoever broke in might have shown some respect for a place of burial. Daytona could tell from the footprints in the dust that six figures wearing military boots were behind the theft; he also knew from the color of the some soil tracked in that the inreuders had recently been in the town of Selvik's Hollow in the Vespermark. Lastly, Raoul noticed that the arcane symbols he had scrawled upon the walls of the chamber had been "defaced" with holy symbols in an act of reconsecration.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Before they left, Raoul held a seance to contact the spirit of Emily Rosaline Daae. The temperature dropped in the chamber and swirls of green and purple eldritch energy lit the room. Emily did not appear as a spectral apparition, but Raoul could feel her presence in the room. She was able to relate that her body was still whole, that she was being kept in a holy space, and that there were eleven bodies in a similar state to her own wherever she was. The party's working theory was that her body had been stolen by religious zealots--quite possibly in league with both Raoul and Emily's families--and taken to the convent to be venerated as an incorruptible saint.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The group left Blackwater and lit out for the territories of the Vespermark. Selvik's Hollow was a small town nestled in a forested valley; they could see the Convent of Our Lady of the Blood Reborn perched on a hill above the town. Their first stop was the local inn and tavern, the Green Cauldron, which was owned by a man named Rogan Sheriday. They party ordered beef and stout stew, as well as ale from the convent. Also within the common room of the Green Cauldron was an acne-scarred young scholar, who had rented one of the inn's rooms, and a teenage girl with pointed ears who was busy scrubbing the dining tables with a rag.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The mention of the incorruptible corpses caught the young girl's attention; she seemed to know <i>something</i>. The group booked four rooms for their use in the inn; they also discovered that besides the scholar, a servant had rented two rooms: one for himself and one for his wealthy master who had yet to arrive. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">With lodging acquired, the group explored the town a bit, plying the shrine maiden at the Chapel of St. Vionka, Irena Gravloski (proprietor of the local apothecary shop), and Elusia (the barmaid, who they later found writing poetry in the graveyard). From their various sources, the group managed to put together the following picture:</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: large;">The Convent of Our Lady of the Blood Reborn was an obscure ascetic site and sanitarium, until the arrival of Sister Mary Augustina.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">Sister Mary Augustina was afflicted with holy visions, possibly madness, and had been thrown out of her previous convent for delving into forbidden tomes in the convent's archives.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">Irena was able to tell them that one of the tomes kept in the convent archive was the Adeptus Gnostica, a book that contained a ritual known as the Liturgy of the Twelve Radiant Apostles. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">The purpose of the Liturgy of the Twelve Radiant Apostles was to infuse twelve incorruptible corpses with holy entities who would then scourge "evil" from the land.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">Templars had been arriving at the convent over the last few years; the templars were patrolling the woods around the convent.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">Elusia had seen the templars moving casket-shaped boxes on carts from parts unknown to the convent.</span></li></ul><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">It seemed that Emily's body had been stolen to be used as one of the twelve corpses needed for the Liturgy of the Twelve Radiant Apostles. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Irena managed to glean Raoul's plans to resurrect Emily; she asked him if he knew of the Mantle of Iron Tears. He did not. She told the group to return to her shop if they managed to rescue Emily's body.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Speaking of rescuing Emily's body, Catarina, Panthalassa, and Serafina hatched a plan to infiltrate the convent and figure out a way to get the doors open to the rest of the group at night. Meanwhile, the remainder of the group returned to the Green Cauldron. However, the mysterious guest had arrived in their absence was busy directing the porters unloading his carriage. The man, a very tall, muscular man of military bearing, caught Daytona's eye. Daytona recognized the man and felt his heart sink within his chest--their mission in Selvik's Hollow just became infinitely more complicated and dangerous.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We'll find out who this newcomer is next time.</span></p><p></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-1592661019513249112024-03-03T22:13:00.000-05:002024-03-03T22:13:01.540-05:00The Tyranny of Faith, Infinity Pool, Malenka, and More<p><span style="font-size: large;">Things that brought me delight in February, 2024:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfMMFfWNhyGwY5f7AQwd4ZNZdufSif2M7niFtVXfhL7smVfy756fPR90aRonONILnWnfbps4SkUJ0AAMkPNcQ71u3zkTuKana1WTJqx9mlbW-PgxC3TUscgBkTV4HVbam5Yet4Gy7PObjehHtWQltZvQeWM2hiGwusvDy32wi2CY0q8rMf6dSLUANZ_E/s2600/9780316361781.webp" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2600" data-original-width="1678" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfMMFfWNhyGwY5f7AQwd4ZNZdufSif2M7niFtVXfhL7smVfy756fPR90aRonONILnWnfbps4SkUJ0AAMkPNcQ71u3zkTuKana1WTJqx9mlbW-PgxC3TUscgBkTV4HVbam5Yet4Gy7PObjehHtWQltZvQeWM2hiGwusvDy32wi2CY0q8rMf6dSLUANZ_E/s320/9780316361781.webp" width="207" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Richard Swan, <i>The Tyranny of Faith</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I read Richard Swan's <i>The Justice of Kings</i> last month and was so enamored with it that I immediately ordered <i>The Tyranny of Faith</i> as soon as I had finished it. <i>The Tyranny of Faith</i> does not disappoint. Told from the perspective of Helena Sedanka, Sir Konrad Vonvalt's clerk and apprentice Justice, we get a view of the unfolding threat to the Empire of the Wolf. And theremany moving parts involved in the intrigue: the Emperor's grandson is kidnapped, someone is arming insurgents with gunpowder, the church has stolen the secrets of ancient magic, and Konrad Vonvalt, the Empire's best hope, has been cursed with a life-ending demonic hex. But beyond all the momentous events converging, <i>The Tyranny of Faith</i> is still a very human tale: despite his acuity, power, and remit, it's Vonvalt's fallibilities that lead to the most tragedy in the novel.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLtI4zoZkaukYS7uLNDFdhvOMMEeV59EzoIOUZoMel7Ni4tDIybxIBkcji5xGapb0Le96lFWizXD6qUdhFk-7MwNNYART3bJh8RbE6MgRhclj4RMv-d33retD5TTWpKmgZEjrFaNcQEvs84FaQsjGhyWtnIydoILGheYVOnIQaj24fW6Nfcnfp1z3hvA/s3000/3BEPOP8XIEeZ1qsnowKv3hK8wxb.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLtI4zoZkaukYS7uLNDFdhvOMMEeV59EzoIOUZoMel7Ni4tDIybxIBkcji5xGapb0Le96lFWizXD6qUdhFk-7MwNNYART3bJh8RbE6MgRhclj4RMv-d33retD5TTWpKmgZEjrFaNcQEvs84FaQsjGhyWtnIydoILGheYVOnIQaj24fW6Nfcnfp1z3hvA/s320/3BEPOP8XIEeZ1qsnowKv3hK8wxb.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Infinity Pool</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I love a speculative movie that is a total <i>feels-bad</i> experience. <i>Infinity Pool</i> takes place in and around an elite resort in the fictional country of Li Tolqa. When a chance accident takes the life of a native, the Western tourists involved learn firsthand the strange legal workings of the nation: to avoid death, the wrongdoer is allowed to pay an exorbitant amount to be cloned so the copy can be executed in their stead. What follows these events is hedonism, commentary on exploitation of the developing world, and a heady cocktail of sex, violence, loss of personal identity, and betrayal.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9DVjRzMzoMzxEEj2e8r9IfLrrZONORBkFsesA6E56sM-mNvNM33YUXqKkJTdXrDFq5P_MSqIERLXfMUniU0XWtv_HYwVoM2_E_yjya4bpC_y7346fexHjQnQfu3vhBHJ2QrwPa0bjqDaUxA4BSY3vBwfnXTY-teHWvD2EqAPkRrcRWdxCoGoRdjOs4I/s6237/fangs.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6237" data-original-width="4678" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9DVjRzMzoMzxEEj2e8r9IfLrrZONORBkFsesA6E56sM-mNvNM33YUXqKkJTdXrDFq5P_MSqIERLXfMUniU0XWtv_HYwVoM2_E_yjya4bpC_y7346fexHjQnQfu3vhBHJ2QrwPa0bjqDaUxA4BSY3vBwfnXTY-teHWvD2EqAPkRrcRWdxCoGoRdjOs4I/s320/fangs.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Malenka</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Malenka</i>, aka <i>Fangs of the Living Dead</i>, is a late-60s horror movie that might be have the distinction of being the first Spanish vampire film. And it's a doozy. A beautiful young model, played by Anita Ekberg, discovers that she has inherited a title and a castle...and perhaps the curse of vampirism as well. Or has she? It could all be a hoax...to be honest, it could be anything because the tacked-on ending goes a long way toward contradicting everything else in the film. It hardly matters; you go into <i>Malenka</i> for Gothic nonsense, not a rational film that makes sense, and it provides Gothic nonsense in spades.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfSAX6HRBs2ot29cMSt8h7pOYA7SbS1YhExYYy0ckxu0-v1YBYBm00wjbgviryjt4TbsAB65-easKBAVEUsnwKOK-ARgruYBistScQC_ee-hyGUiTjsTwr_07eQE5aj7FQZxqBAYXxXQ5HvEZKCQcN34NvRKTX_kSA9wnxec9vEkBRLSPRXfsWuzSBig/s3583/original_7d6c0d89-bb06-437e-a48a-0ab6f3c1fd05_PXL_20240206_143924627.MP.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3583" data-original-width="2710" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfSAX6HRBs2ot29cMSt8h7pOYA7SbS1YhExYYy0ckxu0-v1YBYBm00wjbgviryjt4TbsAB65-easKBAVEUsnwKOK-ARgruYBistScQC_ee-hyGUiTjsTwr_07eQE5aj7FQZxqBAYXxXQ5HvEZKCQcN34NvRKTX_kSA9wnxec9vEkBRLSPRXfsWuzSBig/s320/original_7d6c0d89-bb06-437e-a48a-0ab6f3c1fd05_PXL_20240206_143924627.MP.jpg" width="242" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Stephen King, <i>The Dark Tower III: The Waste Lands</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">While waiting for the third book in Richard Swan's dark fantasy trilogy to make its way to me, I decided to pick up the third volume of Stephen King's <i>The Dark Tower</i> series to make a little headway in my very lackadaisical re-read of the saga. This is the one with the very fun encounter with the giant cyborg bear and the riddle-loving insane AI train. I read this six-hundred page beast over three days, which more than anything illustrates that when King is <i>on his game</i> he is extremely readable and fun.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJBkfay79R-y0p_FsK668I89smGPstLGSFqiCJKVXOSpGSj1Xv0MO3CmjnQtoUWdHwYxj_7jNz2beghaLh6FNu-ofYAxUA4CHt2cTbvFmlPX_VLDLD7LFik-svi9j8U0FbuMbXmHV3xY4aMCQQyaBSnnRghLJ9uKrgbQnI-vLM3SrNw8fXldYbj00hSc/s1000/NOV231741.webp" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="798" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJBkfay79R-y0p_FsK668I89smGPstLGSFqiCJKVXOSpGSj1Xv0MO3CmjnQtoUWdHwYxj_7jNz2beghaLh6FNu-ofYAxUA4CHt2cTbvFmlPX_VLDLD7LFik-svi9j8U0FbuMbXmHV3xY4aMCQQyaBSnnRghLJ9uKrgbQnI-vLM3SrNw8fXldYbj00hSc/s320/NOV231741.webp" width="255" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Shudder #1, 2, 3, 12, 15</i> and <i>Vampiress Carmilla #5, 6, 17, 18, 19</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Anyone who listens to Bad Books for Bad People will already know of my affection for the <i>Shudder</i> and <i>Vampiress Carmilla</i> comics. I delved into the back issues as well as catching the latest issues on the rack. Issue #15 of <i>Shudder</i> is a great standalone illustration of why I love these titles and a fantastic place to start if you want to hop on this train. This issue has all the good stuff. In just one issue you get witches, vampires, grave robbers, seaside tales, cowboys, a Poe homage, and the Devil's own nightclub. And that cover! Look at that cover! If that doesn't speak to you, I don't want to know you.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjrk3FhXRJiRLtMI_G8m5ugNmZ7EvsXVeNz2II5jVr_GWVmnlpx92MaXHlNXvn0tjS5QUdCHUsTX5v8qtFFOtvZfbBqOVrjLfB5IWpmqV47FQMUA-qr8Te0DjppgglufwJjWZtlhC9J5GV1HkD5WwWe6jDzYZC6MhHyIFBrCU24Mlw6BdaFHGjRnGgoNA/s3000/hellbender.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjrk3FhXRJiRLtMI_G8m5ugNmZ7EvsXVeNz2II5jVr_GWVmnlpx92MaXHlNXvn0tjS5QUdCHUsTX5v8qtFFOtvZfbBqOVrjLfB5IWpmqV47FQMUA-qr8Te0DjppgglufwJjWZtlhC9J5GV1HkD5WwWe6jDzYZC6MhHyIFBrCU24Mlw6BdaFHGjRnGgoNA/s320/hellbender.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Hellbender</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Hellbender</i> is less a straightforward horror flick and more of a bildungsroman with horror elements. A mother and daughter live in seclusion on their forested mountain, happily making metal music (???) and going on hikes, until the daughter encounters another teenager and begins to pine for the life she's been sequestered away from. What follows is a discovery of her familiar connection to witchcraft and a strange generational contest between mother and daughter that is part and parcel of her growth into maturity. What's really fascinating about this film is that it was a family project (it was directed and stars a married couple and their children) made during the pandemic lookdown in their Catskills home. It's low-budget for sure, but the rough-and-ready nature of it adds to its truly unique charm.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUf1A689a2wEhFW3BsdnR6AwOAJAy6ytXu6MBRqvpURKwPFu-0bvcuzJlPAdmN1aEELT0SkZSXxj2fyy9jCiKYofMp_e8roYv-iOEiF3LKlNtY2U9RhP8DDSYB7FdMbupV5REJr64PXIRMErBkr-XVj_fbjJJ9wAQNQQITc0novwaHmFhtjtKFGfto5k/s4075/e623ae39-93f7-41f4-823c-f5e2a6c77573.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4075" data-original-width="2650" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUf1A689a2wEhFW3BsdnR6AwOAJAy6ytXu6MBRqvpURKwPFu-0bvcuzJlPAdmN1aEELT0SkZSXxj2fyy9jCiKYofMp_e8roYv-iOEiF3LKlNtY2U9RhP8DDSYB7FdMbupV5REJr64PXIRMErBkr-XVj_fbjJJ9wAQNQQITc0novwaHmFhtjtKFGfto5k/s320/e623ae39-93f7-41f4-823c-f5e2a6c77573.jpg" width="208" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mike Mignola, Angela Slatter, Valeria Burzo, Michelle Madsen, <i>Castle Full of Blackbirds</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm going to have to be completely honest here: you can probably skip <i>Castle Full of Blackbirds</i> if you aren't already immersed in the <i>Hellboy</i>-verse. I wasn't aware that this comic slotted into Mignola's wider world when I bought it, but the story of a young runaway possessing strange powers ending up in a fiendish school for witches is pretty easy to parse even if all the connections don't necessarily mean anything to you. To be even more honest, the art here didn't thrill me, but I suspect that this is more of an issue with the colors than the inkwork. That said, the covers from the individual issues (here used as chapter breaks in the collection) by Wylie Beckert are phenomenal. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrZZLTssqUJ-pwmOXO6QmUYh4Rz45Pyir4N5hweDU9tZu3sstgEieSS8PQGA5RJHv6eOmPWBjnkaGzg2qzWLCYR4cqtS2PNOvBBqsMR7RSyVkSQ8jMOHA_LT_OiPiEDUK5qf0gdJwhT503qJj_kU892ftII5CKxZ-LDkIllyuzcqoC_x04qwl608j-I4/s2250/fairy-cube-vol-1-9781421516684_hr.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="1497" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhrZZLTssqUJ-pwmOXO6QmUYh4Rz45Pyir4N5hweDU9tZu3sstgEieSS8PQGA5RJHv6eOmPWBjnkaGzg2qzWLCYR4cqtS2PNOvBBqsMR7RSyVkSQ8jMOHA_LT_OiPiEDUK5qf0gdJwhT503qJj_kU892ftII5CKxZ-LDkIllyuzcqoC_x04qwl608j-I4/s320/fairy-cube-vol-1-9781421516684_hr.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Kaori Yuki, <i>Fairy Cube Vols. 1-3</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have to admit, even as a big fan of Kaori Yuki's manga I didn't think <i>Fairy Cube</i> was going to be a series for me. The cover makes this manga seem like it's very much Not My Thing. As it turns out, however, this is actually a pretty sinister series! A kid with the ability to see fairies ("Cottingley fairies" style) gets mixed up in a fey plot to overthrow humanity when his "evil double" possesses his father and has his dad knife him to death. When he comes back, his spirit now inhabiting the corpse of a young boy, he finds that his double has taken over his body and is now courting the girl he loves. Although this doesn't rank up there with my favorite Kaori Yuki manga, <i>Fairy Cube</i> has some really interesting and provocative ideas to it that I wasn't expecting. </span></p><div><div><div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbU-9QPwsCQ3u8hi_Fs56mF4XLZHZkMFF9ZD5_GMFpmmq4eqBU1WN40issIkhPTwPm2PWJCRhCFHS65x0BKbfMCM2fir9u8eT8die96atzPe3PwbLLorbq3f45i1Jy5C6KZ0y8jmZRYPiXi_5Oz4uGyDD20eWxqu4lrJFbn3yEkHFzWGKSDzKOYRylcw/s4032/PXL_20231208_215607500.MP.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbU-9QPwsCQ3u8hi_Fs56mF4XLZHZkMFF9ZD5_GMFpmmq4eqBU1WN40issIkhPTwPm2PWJCRhCFHS65x0BKbfMCM2fir9u8eT8die96atzPe3PwbLLorbq3f45i1Jy5C6KZ0y8jmZRYPiXi_5Oz4uGyDD20eWxqu4lrJFbn3yEkHFzWGKSDzKOYRylcw/s320/PXL_20231208_215607500.MP.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Dr. Frankenstein's House of 3-D</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I found this 3-D comic from the early 90s in one of our trips to the antique market. The interiors are the blue-and-red line art you'd expect, and the 3-D glasses are still unpunched! The content basically takes one of two forms: pin-up art of Frankenstein's monster (much of it by cover artist and monster aficionado XNO) or an origin story comic for the creature by Dick Briefer. Both ends of the spectrum are done up in underground comix-style art. Although I bought this as something of a novelty, it's actually really well done with some great art I hadn't seen before. I'm calling this one a win for the "random treasure acquired for a few dollars" pile.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_m_SfIXmDZJqcT1Gqf1hMRW96hqZZ4WR-6cSf0hDXu2f7gOFS7vkpbQC84x_wEwozTczLP-4WogvwGDgpAeEll2I7wDjSeRE4pL3xL6aSybkq8nyrRMi__Ab2mviTN3Ajo1mbWKqw46EYs24fvBoB7_jtjmu-cNgdclG9DtBDeNRkCRveOkaH7sCftt0/s1280/Chelsea-Wolfe.webp" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_m_SfIXmDZJqcT1Gqf1hMRW96hqZZ4WR-6cSf0hDXu2f7gOFS7vkpbQC84x_wEwozTczLP-4WogvwGDgpAeEll2I7wDjSeRE4pL3xL6aSybkq8nyrRMi__Ab2mviTN3Ajo1mbWKqw46EYs24fvBoB7_jtjmu-cNgdclG9DtBDeNRkCRveOkaH7sCftt0/w200-h200/Chelsea-Wolfe.webp" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Chelsea Wolfe, <i>She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's probably reductive to think of <i>She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She</i> as Chelsea Wolfe's "Bjork" album, but I can't shake that feeling. Of course, Wolfe's cold industrial backdrop is more menacing than most Bjork tracks, but the delicacy, effortlessness, and bravura vocal work are what render the similarities here for me. This is a record that easily slips into a kind of conjured soundscape, but it's worth clearing your head of the haze to take in all the particulars. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgssD5vGKAm3rUyJ2x6YrZ4yLFjwWMmm1dAH-oZp53xtpUiEvp9ebu16h1fqINvIkua6-GBO_DqJPgHNuUbVMAtKVoUBV_Rnwz0OMvaUeM9fvuJEyMQ2hqiZeOz1xCPEVoJvdDuCvYBY7IoDpa0NoZWV0rxpXPEaVc1YZqWd9yzBtCnTxCoNSJCch82ixQ/s2339/119129516.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="1524" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgssD5vGKAm3rUyJ2x6YrZ4yLFjwWMmm1dAH-oZp53xtpUiEvp9ebu16h1fqINvIkua6-GBO_DqJPgHNuUbVMAtKVoUBV_Rnwz0OMvaUeM9fvuJEyMQ2hqiZeOz1xCPEVoJvdDuCvYBY7IoDpa0NoZWV0rxpXPEaVc1YZqWd9yzBtCnTxCoNSJCch82ixQ/s320/119129516.jpg" width="208" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Essie Fox, The Fascination</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Essie's Fox's <i>The Fascination</i> starts off with two narrative strands. In the first, a young man is booted from his grandfather's estate when the old tyrant suddenly marries and produces an heir of his own. Meanwhile, a pair of twin sisters (one who develops normally and one who is stuck at a child-like size) are forced to accompany their shyster father as he shucks a snake oil remedy at fairs. The narrative paths cross at a chance meeting, then diverge: the young man comes to work at a London museum of oddities, while the sisters find themselves "adopted" to a house of "freaks." The threads converge again when a pleasure cult of depraved aristocrats abducts the diminutive sister for their own sinister purposes. I was looking forward to reading <i>The Fascination</i> for quite some time (I had to wait for a US release of this one, which was pure torture) and let me tell you: it was completely worth the wait. <i>The Fascination</i> is Dickensian Gothic grotesque at its finest.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1J37NGtH33U3cumK6MwPHDTkg7dq1-2K06Ty86W_pQP4VRfQDbIUhTmLquUwa0QmzZUwS0Bh6KXeoLbqBiHpFr6aT4N6BAyYz4xSaamVnkHWvg2ibBYJJIlcUxwX_jZI8vz3C3nVlX5l0DvHwhLcVhyU-2lc8xnc_bL5KpuODJ5s3-n45nkwSddhZP0/s3086/A24_MEN_KeyArt.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3086" data-original-width="2083" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1J37NGtH33U3cumK6MwPHDTkg7dq1-2K06Ty86W_pQP4VRfQDbIUhTmLquUwa0QmzZUwS0Bh6KXeoLbqBiHpFr6aT4N6BAyYz4xSaamVnkHWvg2ibBYJJIlcUxwX_jZI8vz3C3nVlX5l0DvHwhLcVhyU-2lc8xnc_bL5KpuODJ5s3-n45nkwSddhZP0/s320/A24_MEN_KeyArt.jpg" width="216" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Men</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now that I've watched it, I regret not seeing <i>Men</i> in the theater. There are so many things I love about it that I didn't realize were present at the time: I didn't know Jessie Buckley, who I loved in <i>Taboo</i>, stars in it; I didn't know that Rory Kinnear, who of course was great in <i>Penny Dreadful</i>, plays multiple characters in it; I had no idea it was one of the better modern folk horror movies out there. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The premise is simple: a woman decides to spend time on her own in a rented cottage as she deals with the trauma and guilt of her estranged husband's possible suicide. But from there, her encounters with various men of the village take increasingly ominous turns until the whole thing climaxes in...you know what, you need to see it to believe it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xBSf0igJoV4EzC-eijfmFZOLpVHlIIIBJkob-R6ZfS4uu7JsJOPK_rQw2UhloVV2D_qN9VCaF56gb8aOLbK4cZ2eUO8doHzoxqtDf_Y6qcNYuxSQADlgF5r5Yh-OAzvcWcJPzafRzSX2p1JZvunUFH41qvO3tmOk5xK-8vntlWy6X97CiZy51wEnn0U/s2755/60028924.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2755" data-original-width="1780" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xBSf0igJoV4EzC-eijfmFZOLpVHlIIIBJkob-R6ZfS4uu7JsJOPK_rQw2UhloVV2D_qN9VCaF56gb8aOLbK4cZ2eUO8doHzoxqtDf_Y6qcNYuxSQADlgF5r5Yh-OAzvcWcJPzafRzSX2p1JZvunUFH41qvO3tmOk5xK-8vntlWy6X97CiZy51wEnn0U/s320/60028924.jpg" width="207" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Richard Swan, <i>The Trials of Empire</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now that I've finished <i>The Trials of Empire</i>, the last book in Richard Swan's <i>The Empire of the Wolf </i>trilogy, I can heartily recommend the series to anyone with the stomach to make it through a dark fantasy trilogy of somewhat chunky books. (The second and third books weigh in at over five-hundred pages apiece, for fair warning.) If you do possess that kind of stamina, I think you'll find a lot to love in the entire series, from the first to the last. As an endpoint, <i>The Trials of Empire</i> avoids a lot of cliches, even some hinted at in previous books, and it's the rare series that culminates in a legal trial after the dust has settled from the big, horrible, gritty battle scenes, and manages to actually make the trial pretty entertaining.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6R4y_SIr8a5ZhlvASFIpikLGpmpqKjeDOIJY5mU59G2Lw1GJ9qq0PQWc_GKtKJhb06o7cathXvFEEBhijv-iBPc04y-uzVooX8Q52NGqJhhLerdH9VsIJ5eQFDW5PWqs0l3Nift6hfwRiylvGhC5D0Z6vujjvEULXoF5Y3CH8GnZiccK9WYes60hJMKU/s2247/9781429984478.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2247" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6R4y_SIr8a5ZhlvASFIpikLGpmpqKjeDOIJY5mU59G2Lw1GJ9qq0PQWc_GKtKJhb06o7cathXvFEEBhijv-iBPc04y-uzVooX8Q52NGqJhhLerdH9VsIJ5eQFDW5PWqs0l3Nift6hfwRiylvGhC5D0Z6vujjvEULXoF5Y3CH8GnZiccK9WYes60hJMKU/s320/9781429984478.jpg" width="199" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Norman Partridge, <i>Dark Harvest</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Part of me wishes I had saved Norman Partridge's <i>Dark Harvest</i> for the Halloween season, as it would be a perfect read for October. (You may want to buy a copy now and tuck it away in anticipation.) <i>Dark Harvest</i> concerns a small town with a strange contest held every Halloween: boys aged sixteen to nineteen are forced out of their homes to hunt, and BE HUNTED BY, the October Boy--a pumpkin-headed scarecrow that's out for blood. <i>Dark Harvest</i> is a fun, and surprising, short novel that really captures the madness of Halloween, the small-town experience, and a particularly American flavor of folk horror.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxK7ACs0OXtR6C1VPUFe2Pb69B5CxgvPTZ5Oh4tmuoKkktRckh0cPsDPH1ezzB4ZNA9-Vt8MTNJIrtjtAcNh9ckKfY6Zx06gJZ1WOw2znFMx-PZlVJQ1vMRbESDpyppIOwVdTliBxlhmETsFwu1UDVIyv5Mx8NKCmoHCzROjuBewmd52e_OKZcIdor2qA/s1360/7103X5cCTsL.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="850" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxK7ACs0OXtR6C1VPUFe2Pb69B5CxgvPTZ5Oh4tmuoKkktRckh0cPsDPH1ezzB4ZNA9-Vt8MTNJIrtjtAcNh9ckKfY6Zx06gJZ1WOw2znFMx-PZlVJQ1vMRbESDpyppIOwVdTliBxlhmETsFwu1UDVIyv5Mx8NKCmoHCzROjuBewmd52e_OKZcIdor2qA/s320/7103X5cCTsL.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>D. Alexander Ward and Gina Scapellato (eds.), <i>Strange Echoes</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Strange Echoes</i> is an anthology of short fiction, and like most anthologies it is a mixed bag. The oddest thing about <i>Strange Echoes</i> is that the stories within it don't really feel united by style, theme, or fictional mode; it was a little difficult to see why these particular tales live under the same roof. That said, while none of the stories are poor quality, to my mind there are three standouts. Things start strong with Pamela Durgin's "Canyon Country," which is more of a mood piece about a particular hell-blasted landscape and they very broken young woman moving through it; the mood is pretty rancid, which I mean in a positive way. I also thought Kristin Peterson's story about conjoined twins and the uncanny life they share was excellent. Now, I may be biased as Mattie is a friend who plays in my game group, but I think Matilda Lewis's "Honey, Blood, and Hellfire" is the real stand-out in the collection. This one's a treat, like Hawthorne unencumbered by his era and allowed to be horny on main.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Y-cRCTyeEJ_wadfUtn2TBJVAUz8T0n4yv8VCR9MvrNjHrjAatxOKTMtSlbAIUWL4X7qFs1rAjBrYx-y2_CIWpYuPZtKrlpab6-sTolnDVyy3nZePKjoxggaCRwmMdnNV6wUsxeBvL1Jgitki738uSYcuXHGqVP0ON7pVnR7IhsCfVI6QV8ekry6ET3Y/s2048/marrowbone.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1363" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Y-cRCTyeEJ_wadfUtn2TBJVAUz8T0n4yv8VCR9MvrNjHrjAatxOKTMtSlbAIUWL4X7qFs1rAjBrYx-y2_CIWpYuPZtKrlpab6-sTolnDVyy3nZePKjoxggaCRwmMdnNV6wUsxeBvL1Jgitki738uSYcuXHGqVP0ON7pVnR7IhsCfVI6QV8ekry6ET3Y/s320/marrowbone.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Marrowbone</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Admittedly, my expectations were pretty low going into it, but <i>Marrowbone</i> was a pleasant surprise. This Gothic drama is about a British family who has fled their monstrous, abusive, serial killer father for their mother's childhood home in Maine. As they attempt to start over under a new name, they grow insular--only allowing a farmgirl living nearby into their inner circle. Of course, they've been pursued by their father--or are haunted by his ghost--but the truth of things is far more wicked. <i>Marrowbone</i> has a bit of a VC Andrews feel to it, which is an uncommon flavor that works nicely with this kind of film. Even though I saw the gimmick coming a mile away, <i>Marrowbone</i> really gave me the kind of Gothic nonsense I like.<br /><br /></span></p></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_38ShyphenhyphenW-NhxMNtD7N98cOGaBwp8lnI7u8vMta233N5WPa1J0cJQYgDyVVm3UjZtWAaOJK9aWQluyhCDg9QsnVLC-f5HZjrtrTs_27rKMzSThxJDzsPw99o0pH1is0cFLLHhC2B9IhHiVFES1jrbePx-rqIlYERe9tf_LBNVI1xNuAnt3_yv4weax5Ogc/s3263/STL290707.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3263" data-original-width="2550" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_38ShyphenhyphenW-NhxMNtD7N98cOGaBwp8lnI7u8vMta233N5WPa1J0cJQYgDyVVm3UjZtWAaOJK9aWQluyhCDg9QsnVLC-f5HZjrtrTs_27rKMzSThxJDzsPw99o0pH1is0cFLLHhC2B9IhHiVFES1jrbePx-rqIlYERe9tf_LBNVI1xNuAnt3_yv4weax5Ogc/s320/STL290707.jpeg" width="250" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Becky Cloonan and Tula Lotay, <i>Somna: A Bedtime Story, Books One and Two</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">You can tell that I was excited for <i>Somna</i>, a new erotic horror comic from Becky Cloonan and Tula Lotay, because I broke down and started buying the single issues--something I rarely do. My expectations were quite high for this book and against all odds it met if not exceeded my hopes for it. <i>Somna</i> is the story of a woman married to her town's bailiff, a position that is changing into that of a witchfinder. But as he is hunting the darkness, her dreams are plagued with sinful, demonic erotic reveries that push against the repression she faces in public and at home. Add to this that her best friend is involved in an illicit affair with a handsome young man (and widower of an executed witch), and that her friend's husband is mysterious found murdered, and things are heating up on all fronts. I can't believe I have to wait until the end of March to see how <i>Somna</i> concludes. Sometimes life is cruel.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4sH3-3_0AL3WLq07MA_kvp3pYCkWY4AnmdOWdFBetbOc8vPYxuLQ3QSfBw8XujIAJHrGiBZOhoz2vi2duv9zIEJHotcm0SOUv0NvWc1Ojm3STgieRABho8hacv3OKHjuX_AsrZU2zw1LgZL_E7sud2I4jPWw1IUsHdqehVu8GHYgit1T3XIhtl377WGQ/s2880/p25885953_v_v12_aa.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="1920" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4sH3-3_0AL3WLq07MA_kvp3pYCkWY4AnmdOWdFBetbOc8vPYxuLQ3QSfBw8XujIAJHrGiBZOhoz2vi2duv9zIEJHotcm0SOUv0NvWc1Ojm3STgieRABho8hacv3OKHjuX_AsrZU2zw1LgZL_E7sud2I4jPWw1IUsHdqehVu8GHYgit1T3XIhtl377WGQ/s320/p25885953_v_v12_aa.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Lisa Frankenstein</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Lisa Frankenstein</i> doesn't seem to be getting much in the way of positive reviews, but I had a great time watching it! It really does do a good job of capturing the tone of an 80s teen comedy, and I have to admit that I laughed out loud quite a bit seeing this in the theater. Also, I always love a story about outsiders being outsiders and remaining outsiders even at the end of things--no <i>Breakfast Club</i> style makeover here in <i>Lisa Frankenstein</i> and none of the reconciling with the status quo either. Oddly, this teen movie probably won't mean much to modern teens; this one is probably aimed at people who can actually remember the 80s.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScy_Dokw3cHT0Y84F0EeaPsVb7xEaHjfHpPfxYHRBRCwL5WxS3biReuUmrRnYag33mQrXjLe-QPcSppIcVzVfJSvLdXpklgWJGzVrR1XCphsw-HnN2VAl2Ey568hoRmh3uqr8I10Vrb2N0WULzaILhBL6OgsufDpvXqq3zbsGt3eaMWf5aD2vW1KMxL8/s1440/p11442562_p_v8_ai.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScy_Dokw3cHT0Y84F0EeaPsVb7xEaHjfHpPfxYHRBRCwL5WxS3biReuUmrRnYag33mQrXjLe-QPcSppIcVzVfJSvLdXpklgWJGzVrR1XCphsw-HnN2VAl2Ey568hoRmh3uqr8I10Vrb2N0WULzaILhBL6OgsufDpvXqq3zbsGt3eaMWf5aD2vW1KMxL8/s320/p11442562_p_v8_ai.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>The Long Hair of Death</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Long Hair of Death</i> has become something of a comfort movie for me, and I genuinely consider it to be a classic of the black and white European Gothic genre. It's got witches back from the dead, rapacious noblemen, scheming seductresses, and a creaky old castle complete with hidden passages and eerie tombs. If that wasn't enough, you get the incomparably beautiful Barbara Steele and a truly horrific looking corpse crawling with worms. The comeuppance in the ending scene of <i>The Long Hair of Death</i> feels sadistically satisfying to boot. If you ever want to do a double-feature of great Euro Gothics, considering pairing <i>The Long Hair of Death </i>with <i>Black Sunday</i> for a Barbara Steele-fueled one-two punch.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGrPfdcWuytw4SUIU1ix7JEbTSd_S355i1mIfn6YYcoRMZCRYjBBusEvk5jgMPfmL73u485RLfx4cKD0PdXoKlrnqI5Lvw2LNHMgzIaGMPmjeS8WIPKi41LylV3rrg3eGpyGfX5arvXX7mmWfrfJqmmFpggu9Ha3UrD9dnxU5NhRp0LF0aqskSALLYFc/s2048/60052118.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1354" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGrPfdcWuytw4SUIU1ix7JEbTSd_S355i1mIfn6YYcoRMZCRYjBBusEvk5jgMPfmL73u485RLfx4cKD0PdXoKlrnqI5Lvw2LNHMgzIaGMPmjeS8WIPKi41LylV3rrg3eGpyGfX5arvXX7mmWfrfJqmmFpggu9Ha3UrD9dnxU5NhRp0LF0aqskSALLYFc/s320/60052118.jpg" width="212" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Alexis Henderson, <i>House of Hunger</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In Alexis Henderson's <i>House of Hunger</i>, a young worker from an industrial slum leaves her life of poverty behind to become the "bloodmaid" of a "night lord" named...Liveta Bathory. Although the novel never uses the v-word, Bathory and her fellow night lords employ young women to provide them with the blood that keeps them healthy. <i>House of Hunger </i>attaches many themes to its central idea; it touches on labor exploitation, classism, and above all the pain and turmoil of obsessive love. I enjoyed Henderson's previous novel, <i>The Year of the Witching</i>, but <i>House of Hunger</i> fires on all cylinders. More than anything, I appreciated that <i>House of Hunger</i> confounded my expectations and wasn't afraid to get a bit grimy. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPwcuV-D_Fp8Qxe-MtEl9yvI4yXUdcSyuCT3tmq6nDRFcSKMgB9s9A1-kGmuUZIWnjkMUJHQOG4qnYVetg76O0DtpoRL_qMtC-yo6gp4w6fgBd-53daWdcabxSjOwOGCXQEklP6Mq0u5iA9BI0isFxCOMvVLUrMCNkmmZhghwR7kdpFvBOOs7KedaqJI/s2474/127306440.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2474" data-original-width="1547" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPwcuV-D_Fp8Qxe-MtEl9yvI4yXUdcSyuCT3tmq6nDRFcSKMgB9s9A1-kGmuUZIWnjkMUJHQOG4qnYVetg76O0DtpoRL_qMtC-yo6gp4w6fgBd-53daWdcabxSjOwOGCXQEklP6Mq0u5iA9BI0isFxCOMvVLUrMCNkmmZhghwR7kdpFvBOOs7KedaqJI/s320/127306440.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>T. Kingfisher, <i>What Feasts at Night</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I gave T. Kingfisher another shot after being distinctly underwhelmed with <i>A House With Good Bones</i>, which is decent read but far too light for my particular tastes, and picked up <i>What Feasts at Night</i> in February. <i>What Feasts at Night</i> is the sequel to <i>What Moves the Dead</i>, Kingfisher's riff on Poe's "Th Fall of the House of Usher," so it's interesting to see what she does without an allusion to another author's work to fall back on. This one has a slow start, but once it gets off its ass and starts moving in the final third, it work pretty well. There's some surprisingly horrific imagery--especially since I thought she soft-peddled the horrors in <i>A House With Good Bones</i>--though I still wouldn't necessarily call the work "horror" as a whole.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWMFfLHgSZk4B2Hp2ve25PazBJzdVZD9b9T5St204gB6hmvGZygiAOzBea7BWROFRrrA-41CWlMJc-5uNN9kPFFnxDSdvmIrH5Sv0vuHWRttg0xQ-cNwLxYTqp2UmalEPycHTbvXiLAjqJzQkRCMDF_oStv-JDP_D9zAuef_cvE5OEvjJ_v3mcef9Smg/s1638/957582._SX1280_QL80_TTD.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1638" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWMFfLHgSZk4B2Hp2ve25PazBJzdVZD9b9T5St204gB6hmvGZygiAOzBea7BWROFRrrA-41CWlMJc-5uNN9kPFFnxDSdvmIrH5Sv0vuHWRttg0xQ-cNwLxYTqp2UmalEPycHTbvXiLAjqJzQkRCMDF_oStv-JDP_D9zAuef_cvE5OEvjJ_v3mcef9Smg/s320/957582._SX1280_QL80_TTD.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Peter Milligan, Piotr Kowalski, Brad Simpson, Simon Bowland, <i>God of Tremors</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>God of Tremors</i> is a one-shot comic I can heartily recommend to fans of both Victorian horror and folk horror. The comic has the same form factor as the recent books I've been enjoying from DSTLRY, such as <i>Somna</i>, which is quickly becoming my format of choice for these deluxe-feeling single issues. <i>God of Tremors</i> is the story of a young man stricken with epilepsy, though his zealous and hypocritical vicar father interprets the ailment as demonic possession. His father's attempts to purge the demons through brutal beatings and exorcisms have no effect, of course. And then the boy finds a strange stone idol in the woods that could offer him freedom from his father's tyranny...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj904z2_XlGL9DRBqkZkADTBC5XxQd0fCZFlzDhH_CY4dwyswIc5XAEeEafZ5zTs1HJn72VgnUddqJXwo8gUXWLh_yhVThhinDNZUmKg7cbaGAclsKGikc6_KN60L-XTk6Gufag5sD3cmfUdU8Rs4pI0WMbH3-NqO6FkCIdkkKhTbpLpbbyDgmdIJXbLIU/s2148/pilgrims-of-fire-9781804073537_hr.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2148" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj904z2_XlGL9DRBqkZkADTBC5XxQd0fCZFlzDhH_CY4dwyswIc5XAEeEafZ5zTs1HJn72VgnUddqJXwo8gUXWLh_yhVThhinDNZUmKg7cbaGAclsKGikc6_KN60L-XTk6Gufag5sD3cmfUdU8Rs4pI0WMbH3-NqO6FkCIdkkKhTbpLpbbyDgmdIJXbLIU/s320/pilgrims-of-fire-9781804073537_hr.jpg" width="209" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Justin D. Hill, <i>Pilgrims of Fire</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes I just need my 40k novel fix, so I turned to Justin D. Hill's <i>Pilgrims of Fire</i>. There is a lot of nuance to the battle between heretics and Sisters of Battle trying to protect the relics of a saint in the early bits of this surprisingly complicated novel. There's a conflict between duty and a bloodthirstiness that covers itself under religious zeal, a willingness to sacrifice common people to protect what are essentially just symbols of the faith, and also something clever going on with the use of conscripted prisoners as soldiers. One of my favorite bits: the Imperium tries to send a war ship into the warp and it immediately comes back; it's clearly fucked up, no signs of life, and then they realize that a huge alien life form is wearing it like a fucking hermit crab. I wish I had thought of that.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz2SoRDH48uzagvVWlUQdl04uzokM6GWtGFowSRd-Bf8nAfwUfF8UNvpKCTiICyXjEe9RejYBJybfXqGU3KGRDd6OabpBUT1TyV9Fg5cnXsr1tCleYw51pgRATzfeUY7ojZRG9IRtB-y8FLKcFbtgkDjK3ki0WiD8trtrEadU-GjdAN1kGR2OTzqFTMnk/s4032/PXL_20240222_144910290.MP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz2SoRDH48uzagvVWlUQdl04uzokM6GWtGFowSRd-Bf8nAfwUfF8UNvpKCTiICyXjEe9RejYBJybfXqGU3KGRDd6OabpBUT1TyV9Fg5cnXsr1tCleYw51pgRATzfeUY7ojZRG9IRtB-y8FLKcFbtgkDjK3ki0WiD8trtrEadU-GjdAN1kGR2OTzqFTMnk/s320/PXL_20240222_144910290.MP.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Hung, Drawn and Executed</i> and <i>Nightmare on One Sheet</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I picked up two art books showcasing the horror art of Graham Humphreys in February. Both feature a great selection of his work, from movie posters, commissioned art, book covers, etc. If you keep an eye out for deluxe Blu Ray reissues of classic horror flicks, then you've definitely seen his work. It's awesome having so much of it in bound form. An embarrassment of riches, really.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p></div><div><p></p></div></div>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-91374923651074913402024-02-27T22:25:00.000-05:002024-02-27T22:25:16.972-05:00"Uncle Sam Sends His Regards"<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVD8uQPuWVlGsFqjsfL9u0pnyK49zw37Frx6Gm8Mt6hB9OpHckmyeEiAFPr96eFozuLxPAI1GJBjrZgegUGuqBROWbDJNAR2SKZgx_Xeh_UTUWoq1z4B_rQmPTORJypeHs8NGymlVBq0ZfkgzjB7KF2AVHJbWkWuXwE3n41eNh8aRlRtwtoyPijPnoi7w/s2999/St._Peters%20j.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2999" data-original-width="1877" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVD8uQPuWVlGsFqjsfL9u0pnyK49zw37Frx6Gm8Mt6hB9OpHckmyeEiAFPr96eFozuLxPAI1GJBjrZgegUGuqBROWbDJNAR2SKZgx_Xeh_UTUWoq1z4B_rQmPTORJypeHs8NGymlVBq0ZfkgzjB7KF2AVHJbWkWuXwE3n41eNh8aRlRtwtoyPijPnoi7w/s320/St._Peters%20j.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">Here's what happened in the third session of Mike Royal's <i>Pulp Cthulhu</i> game:</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our next stop in the South Seas was the decaying colonial isle of St. Peters. Our captain, H. H. Humphreys, sent us on an unusual errand: we were to go to shore with a cardboard box and deliver it to a man named Mr. Lao. We were explicitly told not to look at the item in the box.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Of course, we looked in the box.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Inside was a stone idol that we all found quite disturbing. (Read: immediate Sanity loss.) However, our attempt to offload the idol on Mr. Lao was unsuccessful; we were informed that Mr. Lao "fell down the Stairs," meaning that he took a self-directed tumble down an infamous part of the island behind the French tower. We also learned from a salty dog of a sailor that the idol was connected to a maritime cult of ancient origins. Furthermore, we heard rumors of a mysterious location known as the Isle de Cranios.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We wanted to take a look at the tower under control of the French authorities for ourselves. When we spoke to the French soldiers outside, they were friendly and cordial. Our meeting with Captain Rochelle, the island's governor, went a bit more strangely. When we showed him the idol, he immediately commandeered it and declared that it had been stolen from a French museum and needed to be returned. Instead of fighting to keep ahold of our property--especially since French soldiers were filing into the room--we decided to hide out in the nearby cemetery to watch and see where Captain Rochelle took the idol.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Most of us hid behind some tombstones while we kept watch on the tower, but a few of our group decided to explore the church presiding over the burial grounds. They found the priest bleeding from empty eye sockets, gibbering something to the effect that it was "too late to stop what was coming."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">When Captain Rochelle and his men exited the tower, they did so in ritualistic garb. They had the idol with them, along with a number of zombie-like men whose eyes glowed green. We followed them to where they had a number of motor boats moored. They took off into the swamps, and we took the two boats they left behind and gave chase.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Two of our party stopped to examine a strange green lantern and were assaulted by what were either the walking dead or men in trances. They had to beat a hasty retreat.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The rest of us kept pace as we shadowed the boats...until it was clear that they planned to jump ship for a larger vessel and take the idol to some unwholesome location. We rammed Captain Rochelle's boat with out own, bellowing "Uncle Sam sends his regards." A gunfight broke out, but we sent Rochelle and his men down to Davy Jones's locker. We recovered the idol and...well, that's where we ended the session.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-74739570509109799322024-02-25T22:20:00.000-05:002024-02-25T22:20:42.951-05:00Escape From the Isle of White Apes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfm8e5Majq4CXEDO2qPGglXqEAHm9eznOWNk8VXuNV6GRmRna0LDxQIuq_UGXxv7s6J3bljod9a0uo-fBuPXzKEzhvLnsxDikkysAgavKQVA2lszYBjD2ylMCUErBrDPxxe-n8PLQ36p4WxWcerFJOXhekS-j5aSQz-bl1CfovQdkuBSdCGS6718OHVc/s800/ape-white-large-angle.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfm8e5Majq4CXEDO2qPGglXqEAHm9eznOWNk8VXuNV6GRmRna0LDxQIuq_UGXxv7s6J3bljod9a0uo-fBuPXzKEzhvLnsxDikkysAgavKQVA2lszYBjD2ylMCUErBrDPxxe-n8PLQ36p4WxWcerFJOXhekS-j5aSQz-bl1CfovQdkuBSdCGS6718OHVc/s320/ape-white-large-angle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">What follows is my fragmentary recollection of what went down in the second session of Mike Royal's <i>Pulp Cthulhu</i> game.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">When we last left our heroes, they were descending into the stygian abyss beneath a mysterious ruined temple on an island that seemed curiously out-of-time. We dodged a number of white ape servitors and determined that the area below the temple was some kind of arcane scientific facility.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We chanced upon a fiendish reptile man who appeared to be some sort of doctor--well, he was performing vivisection on a white ape at any rate. Our attempts to parlay with the reptile man proved ineffective, which ultimately resulted in a brutal melee in which we executed said reptile man and performed a mercy killing on the white ape. Negotiations breaking down and setting the stage for carnage would largely be the running theme of our attempt to get to the bottom of things on the island.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We found glass-like pipes filled with magma that seemed to be powering the eldritch machinery within the facility. We attempted to destroy the power source and necessary machinery with some well-placed explosives, but unfortunately the pipes proved impervious to our incendiaries. However, the explosion did cause chaos within the facility; white apes were running to and fro attempting to put out fires and clear the mess.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">When we found plinths that held a massive army of reptile men, each frozen out of phase in a temporal shift, we knew that we couldn't leave without foiling the alien threat. The machines at work were bringing the army into the present--we had to stop the plot before earth was overrun by an implacable, scaly menace.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our resolve led to a desperate assault on a control center housed within an underearth watch tower. Several of us were injured in the firefight, but we managed to kill the white ape soldiers guarding the control panel. We caused more destruction to foil the machinery, piled the corpses of white apes in front of the door to slow anyone who tried to correct the damage, and fled for our lives. We had another tense fight on the way out as we tried to gain control of an elevator to the surface, but no white apes could stop us. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The volcano was poised to erupt and the island was shaking as we made our way back to our exploratory vessel. Once we boarded we discovered something uncanny: although our ordeal had lasted hours, the crew reported that we were only gone about twenty minutes.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-42540334711721732482024-02-21T22:10:00.000-05:002024-02-21T22:10:57.320-05:00Nightmare House and Airport '77<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7jcS2Jk1yA9FjzS6wNXBILd2jz6DLeB-Rga6pqL6ZBuflmirfszISwoJpCZxkT_NrWmUIUnClpmSWlglmiJ8uY-C1SiJUF5U_e7u-h4NozwhER1U-I46l-Wi7nTjSi1c2HuXwf7rmU5EB6nRpz3hUUHB3oN26Qnzsri5MnzcHlvADna2XOMQuX8KXTKA/s1400/nightmarehouse-airport77-bbfbp-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7jcS2Jk1yA9FjzS6wNXBILd2jz6DLeB-Rga6pqL6ZBuflmirfszISwoJpCZxkT_NrWmUIUnClpmSWlglmiJ8uY-C1SiJUF5U_e7u-h4NozwhER1U-I46l-Wi7nTjSi1c2HuXwf7rmU5EB6nRpz3hUUHB3oN26Qnzsri5MnzcHlvADna2XOMQuX8KXTKA/w200-h200/nightmarehouse-airport77-bbfbp-cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://badbooksbadpeople.com/episodes/episode-74-nightmare-house-and-airport-77"><b>Episode 74: Nightmare House and Airport '77</b></a></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once again, Jack and Kate trade reviews of books from their archives. This time around, Jack explores the terrifying mystery and romance of Rae Foley’s Nightmare House (1968) and Kate plunges straight into disaster with Airport 77 (1977).</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Why is dealing marijuana a worse crime than murder? Does a nightmare dude make a nightmare house into a nightmare home? Whose dick will be compared to a tiny airline bottle of booze? Is Airport 77 the disco era counterpart to Moby Dick? All these questions and more will be explored in this episode of Bad Books for Bad People. </span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-64874148806424050252024-02-18T22:26:00.000-05:002024-02-18T22:26:59.646-05:00The Valkyrie Heist<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEzaEOpSMcOy14w8U9wQp_bXNMqAW-wA5PvCkywDMt4r-TgFwCrIp4E9yutf9wZ4FKSQb7SuiQXzIBV2qFDCGvL7iG3Z9ZCj-w6CrSI2TOjdK6LwB1tLYHorp8LLPTwMybNTUsjH7bRm8wr8AsZt24o8jxXAG5Qel9fm7HFbHNkNAiq4kT9cLzXWE-zI/s3018/biblioteca-valenciana-nicolau-primitiu-QOPkIw4e52k-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="3018" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEzaEOpSMcOy14w8U9wQp_bXNMqAW-wA5PvCkywDMt4r-TgFwCrIp4E9yutf9wZ4FKSQb7SuiQXzIBV2qFDCGvL7iG3Z9ZCj-w6CrSI2TOjdK6LwB1tLYHorp8LLPTwMybNTUsjH7bRm8wr8AsZt24o8jxXAG5Qel9fm7HFbHNkNAiq4kT9cLzXWE-zI/s320/biblioteca-valenciana-nicolau-primitiu-QOPkIw4e52k-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">Mike Royal needed an extra week to prep the next <i>Pulp Cthulhu</i> adventure, so I offered to run a <i>Blades in the Dark</i> one-shot in the usual timeslot. Most of the group was new to <i>Blades</i>, save for one player who had been in a previous one-shot I ran of it and a player who had run the game before but never had the opportunity to play a scoundrel. People really seemed to love this one--so much so that there were requests to come back to these characters and their capers at some point. Here's what went down.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ilya, the Lurk</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dusk, the Spider</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Poppy, the Slide</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Blunt, the Cutter</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Miranda, the Whisper</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hawky, the Hound</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Events</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This was the intro to our one-shot:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>This morning, the Valkyrie, the largest and most luxurious airship in the known world, docked in Brightstone. The Valkyrie will be taking on supplies during the day, but tonight it will host a banquet and ball before departing in the early hours of the morning. The Valkyrie and its passengers are bound south to Iruvia. As part of the festivities, Marist Larkin, a celebrated chef, will be preparing an exclusive tasting menu for the invited guests. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Valkyrie has one added attraction that your gang has learned of: Severina’s Tear, a fist-sized sapphire intended to be one of the crown jewels of the new queen of Iruvia, is secretly being transported aboard the airship. Your goal is to make your way onto the Valkyrie, steal Severina’s Tear, and fade away into the underworld before the airship departs for Iruvia.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Their first order of business was figuring out how they would gain entrance to the Valkyrie. Ilya leaned on his friend, the noblewoman Roslyn Kellis. Roslyn had a genuine ticket, but could produce counterfeits that would pass casual inspection. In return, Roslyn wanted Ilya to publicly embarrass a rival named Aisling Bennigard. Figuring that two ways in were better than one, Blunt hatched a plan to arrive at the Valkyrie before the event started in the guise of a deliveryman and then hide himself inside to scout around.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Other pre-mission preparations included figuring out the list of notables who would be aboard. They learned a bit about the ship's captain, the chef, and learned that Sergeant Dresher, an Akorosian military leader, was also seen entering the airship for unknown reasons. Miranda made a dangerous deal for supernatural back-up: she bound the demoness Sitarra to a poison ring that could be triggered for aid. However, if Sitarra was not given a soul in return for her help, she would take a chunk of Miranda's as payment.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Most of the group made their way down the red carpet leading to the Valkyrie (Blunt was already hidden inside) and were shown to a table in the airship's banquet room. Aisling Bennigard was pointing out by Roslyn and Hawky noticed that three members of the Red Sashes gang, including a swordsman called Reaper who had beef with him, were also posing as guests. The group also noticed that the chef, Marist Larkin, seemed to be in a foul mood this evening.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Feigning a fainting attack, Miranda was accompanied by Hawky and Dusk as they pretended to look for a couch upon which to rest the lady. They managed to bluster their way past the guards and made their way to the third floor. When their elevator opened, they had a moment of panic when the elevator opposite also opened--but luckily it was just Blunt, who had also made his way to the third floor of the airship's gondola. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Operating under the theory that the chef may be in a bad mood because her kitchen had been commandeered as a place to store Severina's Tear, Poppy made her way into the kitchen--just in time to hear Marist Larkin inform her sous-chefs that "the assault will start when we serve the soup course." <b>FLASHBACK:</b> the group had bribed the produce supplier to provide Larkin with substandard edible lavender. So when Poppy appeared with a cachet of fresh, exquisite lavender, she had an easier way in with the chef.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">During their conversation, Poppy won Larkin over by listening to her complaints about being as artist serving the pinnacle of haute cuisine to wealthy pigs who failed to appreciate the rarefied experience. Larkin warmed to Poppy and appreciated her sympathy as an artist frustrated by the whims of the rich, so much so that she warned Poppy that she and the kitchen staff were planning on poisoning the soup. Anyone who survived, or declined the soup, was to be knifed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Meanwhile, Ilya did a bit of subterfuge, stealing a socialite's ring, planting it on Aisling, and then calling attention to the theft. As an embarrassing tumult broke out, the soup course came out of the kitchen to be served. Poppy gathered up Ilya, tipped off Roslyn, and they exited the dining room. As they left, chef Larkin gave Poppy a knowing nod. Ilya and Poppy now made their way to the third floor of the airship.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Up on the third floor, Hawky, Dusk, Blunt, and Miranda noticed that one room in the hallway was under guard. In fact, one of the two guards approached them to escort them out of the area. Blunt attempted to push past the guards and Miranda theatrically collapsed onto the floor. The guards picked Miranda up to carry her to the infirmary, and that's when the rest of the gang struck. Dusk produced a bottle of slumber essence and held a rag full of it over one guard's mouth, while Blunt and Hawky bludgeoned the other into unconsciousness. During the struggle, Miranda made her way to the guarded room and used her spirit key to bypass the lock.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At this point they were joined by Ilya and Poppy. The room they were infiltrating was a storage room with a safe, but the safe's door hung open--someone had beat them to the punch and stolen Severina's Tear. As they looked about, they quickly deduced that the ventilation shaft leading into this chamber was just wide enough for the teenage girl who was accompanying Reaper. Ilya produced schematics of the Valkyrie and they confirmed that this ventilation shaft had an outlet in the airship's ballroom. <b>FLASHBACK:</b> Dusk had rigged a device on the doors of the ballroom that would hold it closed on a timer.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Knowing that they had little time to confront the Red Sashes and get their hands on Severina's Tear, the gang rushed down to the ballroom. When they disarmed their timed lock and pushed wide the door, Miranda threw in a vial of ectoplasm and opened her mind to the ghost field, causing the ectoplasm to cohere into nightmarish specters that forced the Red Sashes back into the ballroom. This was Blunt's cue; he strode in and confronted the three Red Sashes in combat, on his own.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>FLASHBACK:</b> since Hawky knew that Reaper and his crew would be gunning for the gem too, he had discovered that Reaper was superstitious and believed that only a pure maiden was fit to sharpen his dueling sword. Hawky had arranged to have a package delivered to her business, and while she was at the door he came in through the window and sabotaged Reaper's blade.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Blunt turned the faulty blade aside easily, punched Reaper in the face with a cestus, and sent him crashing to the ground. Reaper's bearded associate tried to psychically assault Blunt, but he got a punch to the face for his troubles as well. The teenage girl, who was now in a tug of war over her handbag with Ilya, merely got a backhand that sent her reeling. With the handbag now in their possession, they looked inside: they had obtained Severina's Tear.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To take care of loose ends, Hawky shot Reaper through the eye, sending blood and brains cascading across the carpet. Eager to make sure that Sitarra wouldn't consume her own soul, Miranda set it on the teenage girl (<b>FLASHBACK:</b> they had been seeding her mind with occult ideas that made her amenable to this!), but things didn't go according to plan. Yes, Sitarra claimed the girl's soul, but she also claimed the girl's body--which was now issuing a horrible ululating scream and hovering mid-air.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It was now time to go. They saw the soldiers who had been hidden in the airship rush down the stairs and head for the bloodbath still unfolding in the dining room. With that distraction aiding their escape, the crew made their way into the dark of a Doskvol night.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-27254662604166487892024-02-13T22:22:00.001-05:002024-02-13T22:22:21.442-05:00Through the Eyes of a Dead Man<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9u3_Mzwske8GUTyN14zzKfkGZXD2ZMVEOjwB_ijNnS2ryd5Kweja4tN4S0-4FKqi3VedhiAjH5QFUypKNTWnBVSpeiwD6T_yYDFrN4pbND9l_VJV07kHcTFQ-2vDrQZXA7HVePV0XJEdG9JlxFxK7pbWw9d9Kv8MCaxjmuO40yEoEmCxvmwLYD2MLcng/s400/3d305fe6-3ae1-45c7-a0b2-3762cef74e7f_text.gif" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="400" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9u3_Mzwske8GUTyN14zzKfkGZXD2ZMVEOjwB_ijNnS2ryd5Kweja4tN4S0-4FKqi3VedhiAjH5QFUypKNTWnBVSpeiwD6T_yYDFrN4pbND9l_VJV07kHcTFQ-2vDrQZXA7HVePV0XJEdG9JlxFxK7pbWw9d9Kv8MCaxjmuO40yEoEmCxvmwLYD2MLcng/s320/3d305fe6-3ae1-45c7-a0b2-3762cef74e7f_text.gif" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">Way back in the heady days of G+, I accepted a challenge: watch the movie version of <i>Wild Wild West</i> and come up with something gameable to justify the time spent watching a movie generally held in low regard. What I came up with is a piece of equipment that would be right at home in <i>Deadlands</i>.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Final Projector</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As it turns out, the commonly-held belief that the last image a person sees is burned onto their retina as the die is true. The Final Projector can be used to unlock that last image: it bores a hole into the back of the deceased person’s head and shines a light through their eyes, which projects the last image they saw.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-24214487738763528592024-02-11T22:22:00.001-05:002024-02-11T22:22:41.756-05:00The Theatre Diabolique and Villa Kazmark<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dqiDgakm5IhUrbmN-PZgXv3HqfucG-abLklD6x-5OXDMKHb4mRNKGk5Jm_9YkkVM5bz3zsj_JWLUJiNC9Rkn7F6G8V7qA16Ffq9UX0F1tnaOL_0vMprwbgWlooFRIAQ9mtx08ZMWkVuh25khS11-24YCq-_WJeh-D1k9GzjTKsU-9r7aoJ6sm85YmGE/s4611/egor-myznik-57l48WaJ3po-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4611" data-original-width="3069" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dqiDgakm5IhUrbmN-PZgXv3HqfucG-abLklD6x-5OXDMKHb4mRNKGk5Jm_9YkkVM5bz3zsj_JWLUJiNC9Rkn7F6G8V7qA16Ffq9UX0F1tnaOL_0vMprwbgWlooFRIAQ9mtx08ZMWkVuh25khS11-24YCq-_WJeh-D1k9GzjTKsU-9r7aoJ6sm85YmGE/s320/egor-myznik-57l48WaJ3po-unsplash.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">Two more locations in Krevborna's witch-haunted town of Hemlock Hollow:</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Theater Diabolique</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Theater Diabolique is a playhouse specializing in gory productions that dramatize crimes, murders, and supernatural terrors as ghastly spectacles for stout-stomached crowds. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • The artists of the Theater Diabolique are infamous for their mastery of theatrical artifice; they have pioneered techniques for creating fake blood, steaming entrails, and dismembered corpses that seem all too real. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • The gruesome plays performed at the theater are also supported by a few gore-obsessed illusionists who use their magic to enhance the Diabolique’s phantasmagoria of slaughter and carnage. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • A deformed masked madman named Erik Bercilan lives in the ancient tunnels beneath the playhouse; he is liable to abduct any starlet performing at the Theater Diabolique that catches his eye.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Villa Kazmark</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Villa Kazmark is an abandoned manor house in Hemlock Hollow with a sinister reputation. It was once rented by a circle of Romantic poets as a place of collaboration—and some say for drunken orgies as well—but their tenancy ended in a bloody suicidal pact.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • Villa Kazmark is secretly used as a place of worship for Hemlock Hollow’s remaining Church of Holy Blood adherents now that their faith has been driven underground.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • Secret chambers in the basement of Villa Kazmark are used to store outlawed religious tracts and contraband copies of the Holy Blood Bible.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • Villa Kazmark features a number of “priest holes”—hiding places for clerics and other members of the faith who are being hunted by the witches of the Graymalk clan and their satanic servants.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • The manor house is also haunted; at night, the poets who met their demise within its walls reenact the violent scenes of their deaths. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • In recent years, the ghosts inhabiting Villa Kazmark have become more active and agitated; soon they will seek to possess those who worship clandestinely within the house.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-45051701373419590332024-02-07T21:25:00.000-05:002024-02-07T21:25:57.206-05:00Nazi Submarines and Reptile Men<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLce_z2-IwwvY1GMu1j2FWdd_Cqzt4YVZ_d-o546zqMzhDQpRHfOq230herIaUCmwcll3bS-1weM65moupKmprAW_rsibNS7CHkT5cvC_K_8aY2sAnYMnh2R9GY8eX3pwG-fhtSltyphLL7yOphyphenhyphenP9Qb9LF-uWPdr_JHNkyr7pAwdjaxq8UGzO74zJ6Fg/s640/U534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLce_z2-IwwvY1GMu1j2FWdd_Cqzt4YVZ_d-o546zqMzhDQpRHfOq230herIaUCmwcll3bS-1weM65moupKmprAW_rsibNS7CHkT5cvC_K_8aY2sAnYMnh2R9GY8eX3pwG-fhtSltyphLL7yOphyphenhyphenP9Qb9LF-uWPdr_JHNkyr7pAwdjaxq8UGzO74zJ6Fg/s320/U534.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">We played our first session of Mike Royal's <i>Pulp Cthulhu</i> game last Friday. I thought I'd do a weekly write up of our adventures, at least until we all die and/or go insane, but it turns out that my notes were pretty shitty. I'll try to get the highlights down for future reference, though:</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We are in the South Seas on an expedition to explore a strange temple on what is believed to be a currently uninhabited island. Before we got to the island, we spotted a drowned man floating nearby. However, when we brought the body aboard, it turned out not to be a human being at all--it was a white ape of a sort never before documented. The white ape was wearing an unusual headband, the purpose of which struck us as perhaps ritualistic. Also, the white ape wasn't actually dead, which I discovered firsthand when it sprang up and attacked my character. A combination of fisticuffs and gunfire brought it down.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">With the ape problem settled, we took rowboats from our ship to the island. On the way, we found a wrecked submarine with a strange symbol on its side. (That symbol: a swastika.) We decided to take a detour and explore the submarine. At first it appeared that the submarine was abandoned, but we found a number of skeletons inside--the remains of the crew. Also, it was conspicuous that the technology level of the submarine was higher than anything we were currently aware of in our world. The truth of what was going on hit home when a newspaper (in German) was found and translated: according to the date on the newspaper, the submarine was from the future.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We also found a book written in an unrecognizable language. I'm sure taking that won't come back to bite us on the ass later on.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When we finally reached the island, we found ourselves following a golden metal road. We spotted (and hid from) more white apes gathered together in what appeared to be a hunting party. These apes were also wearing headbands like the one on the ape we killed previous. (We suspect that the headbands may be used to control the apes, but we could be barking up the wrong tree with that.) </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We found a field of giant petrified squid; the squid were bearing runes or sigils of some sort. (They weren't swastikas, at least.) We also stumbled upon a field of dead bodies in what appeared to be, judging by the debris, the aftermath of a zeppelin crash. Each of the bodies was wearing an alien medallion. When the medallions were removed from the bodies, they ceased to be of human appearance--the medallions were disguising the fact that the corpses before us were all reptilian humanoids!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When we finally arrived at the temple, we watched the white apes enter. However, when we entered, they were nowhere to be seen. However, we did find a lever that caused part of the floor to begin to descend into the darkness as a sort of elevator. We will find out what lurks in the stygian abyss when we pick up the game later this week.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-4421519115155563882024-02-04T22:04:00.000-05:002024-02-04T22:04:40.118-05:00Mordenkult, the Rackrend Estate, Streghastra Road<div style="text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9tvT0SpQDsrouNLA3YsZLM7MkIXAja2DdEq_eiOKXrQK0pslYtlm6xwtrMdpvIuciRB34nGm4j_rXArvPNNwRMb1Z5bWku1w2mhnp4kpjYc8duco7DwAI7xD6h2a2l1uh5sLJY0WjqtyfjGIDNiez0zzajkFmfPgh-YqERKJrezaGnbA9BmJ9EF3afRE/s2400/dalton-smith-Sh8Cs7Rbspw-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1920" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9tvT0SpQDsrouNLA3YsZLM7MkIXAja2DdEq_eiOKXrQK0pslYtlm6xwtrMdpvIuciRB34nGm4j_rXArvPNNwRMb1Z5bWku1w2mhnp4kpjYc8duco7DwAI7xD6h2a2l1uh5sLJY0WjqtyfjGIDNiez0zzajkFmfPgh-YqERKJrezaGnbA9BmJ9EF3afRE/s320/dalton-smith-Sh8Cs7Rbspw-unsplash.jpg" width="256" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">The following three locations might figure into adventures within Hemlock Hollow in Krevborna. Mordenkult brings black metal to the setting, kinda. The Rackrend Estate adds a creepy family standing guard over a horrible evil. Streghastra Road has its own Black Philip-inspired monster to deal with. Good luck, adventurers! </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mordenkult</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mordenkult is the most infamous tavern in Hemlock Hollow; it is regarded as the birthplace of “black skaldism,” music best described as morbid, dark, and misanthropic. <br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"> • The bards who perform black skaldism music for the entertainment of rough crowds at Mordenkult paint their faces with stark black and white pigments to give themselves a startling, demonic appearance.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"> • Some alarmists claim that black skaldism is corrupting and encourages blasphemy, arson, diabolism, and murder.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"> • The tavern has several private rooms that can be rented on an hourly basis; these rooms are enchanted to make them safe against scrying and other forms of divination magic.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Rackrend Estate</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Rackrend family are decrepit necromancers who own a crumbling ancestral estate on the outskirts of Hemlock Hollow. <br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"> • The house sits at the base of a brackish tarn, its foundations cracked and the land around it is choked with black weeds.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"> • The remaining members of the Rackrend family have inherited a familial duty to maintain the magical wards keeping a “sleeping” woman imprisoned within a glass coffin in the tombs that lie under their manor house. <br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"> • As part of the ritual necessary to keep the woman incarcerated within her glass coffin, the Rackrends wear black garb decorated with the yellowed remnants of ancient bones and don gilded, skull-like masks. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Streghastra Road</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Streghastra Road cuts through the Kressig Woods to the south of Hemlock Hollow and ends at the northern gates of Creedhall. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • The road is haunted by a fiend known as Black Samael, who takes the form of a massive goat with jet-black fur, fearsome curling horns, and eyes that smolder with infernal flame. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> • Black Samael has an especial taste for the flesh and blood of priests, clerics, and other devout followers of the Church.</span></p></div>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-23567480365804131322024-01-31T22:06:00.000-05:002024-01-31T22:06:20.527-05:00The Broken Girls, Berbrian Sound Studio, Coop Art, and More<p><span style="font-size: large;">Things that brought me delight in January, 2024:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvBx7zA1Pm2Dw4WoLi4-8BVcJefW9jwBVbHljADbdPSniEZYyxQTBr8uzASbUm32spZndsNU3i82NQS1BMbKmI6iBJwdSK-zN6ngVhgltv8XSaJNk__cUyUeU6Q-AXi8nSMqePOQfx7LcgI2czRfg-n6rgMNzJe3tB28dW28IKSvJAgvaHPYlE0D6tPc/s1661/broken%20j.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1661" data-original-width="1100" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvBx7zA1Pm2Dw4WoLi4-8BVcJefW9jwBVbHljADbdPSniEZYyxQTBr8uzASbUm32spZndsNU3i82NQS1BMbKmI6iBJwdSK-zN6ngVhgltv8XSaJNk__cUyUeU6Q-AXi8nSMqePOQfx7LcgI2czRfg-n6rgMNzJe3tB28dW28IKSvJAgvaHPYlE0D6tPc/s320/broken%20j.jpg" width="212" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Simone St. James, <i>The Broken Girls</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Simone St. James's <i>The Broken Girls</i> was the first book I finished in 2024. With this novel, we've got dual-timeline storytelling. It's part Gothic novel about a haunted girls boarding school in the 1950s and part murder mystery about a girl who was found dead in land occupied by the now-abandoned school in the 90s. The protagonist, a journalist who is the murdered girl's sister, finds herself unburying the haunted past to make sense of her sibling's tragic death. There's got a lot going on in <i>The Broken Girls</i>: a Bronte-esque ghost, corrupt cops, and even Nazi war criminals. Definitely recommended if you like the idea of a crime novel mixing with your Gothic ghost stories. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9Asm1I55i1hXf5m-Vss3RiyBjQcOgRGWDjRDuiIms3rqK0IwewT0JsWzLwS0c3J_PGC7COzPUwOhyphenhyphen8ocd3KHa3TAUcbaSlu-YwVtHs1dndqhAYyBp_LTo0FdJUuParmNzRxe1nPB5sfCYqB_HTd5CZVJtNOo8ufLVEBFTInBJiKKCXfkY0rBQdX87Sw/s2100/sCrLZYF7TU32Vk5bOIJneVAcoKE.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9Asm1I55i1hXf5m-Vss3RiyBjQcOgRGWDjRDuiIms3rqK0IwewT0JsWzLwS0c3J_PGC7COzPUwOhyphenhyphen8ocd3KHa3TAUcbaSlu-YwVtHs1dndqhAYyBp_LTo0FdJUuParmNzRxe1nPB5sfCYqB_HTd5CZVJtNOo8ufLVEBFTInBJiKKCXfkY0rBQdX87Sw/s320/sCrLZYF7TU32Vk5bOIJneVAcoKE.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Berberian Sound Studio</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>It's interesting to compare <i>Berberian Sound Studio</i> (which I enjoyed) against something like <i>Skinamarink</i> (which I think rules people out from having good taste if they say they like it), as both generally fall into the category of "atmosphere is the point." Although is isn't a plot-focused movie, <i>Berberian Sound Studio</i> is at least anchored by Toby Jones's magnificent performance as a sound engineer who is fraying at the edges until there's nothing left of him. </span><span>The film is also very attractive to look at, and more importantly, to hear. None of that tomfoolery of masking a lack of coherent ideas with murky imagery and muffled sound here.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYMFWyTdkvXtxwZc6SH7cr2KSz60zcdQ1vjr3TUeZ6b3jZ1NmNWevWrrovZtu_YXgHuwj8ECTDHb9jhPwjZdY0O3FBgruCo8f5El4RdnS_qJCEuC6mj-1G9jUqdONcy2Ae8GoDTELPIQHjXPhbrGmvb4M_0gUoan9P5Zgth2__o5FtrbDLfre8mXTk8nY/s1280/deliver%20us.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="867" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYMFWyTdkvXtxwZc6SH7cr2KSz60zcdQ1vjr3TUeZ6b3jZ1NmNWevWrrovZtu_YXgHuwj8ECTDHb9jhPwjZdY0O3FBgruCo8f5El4RdnS_qJCEuC6mj-1G9jUqdONcy2Ae8GoDTELPIQHjXPhbrGmvb4M_0gUoan9P5Zgth2__o5FtrbDLfre8mXTk8nY/s320/deliver%20us.jpg" width="217" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Deliver Us</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Often, the idea of religious horror is better than the execution, but I think <i>Deliver Us</i> rates higher than most. When a nun gives miraculous birth to twins--one of which is the messiah, the other the antichrist--a shadowy organization moves to kill the children to prevent the End of Days. The nun comes under the protection of a priest who is questioning his faith; in fact, one of the things I like about <i>Deliver Us</i> is its variation on "priest suffering a crisis of faith": this guy know he has to leave the church because he's knocked a woman up. Admittedly, <i>Deliver Us</i> is light on horror and plays out more like a religious morality play with supernatural elements, but I'm fine with that over another <i>Exorcist</i> clone.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ml58BJlq4IoT894BvfWwgbJUxNKo9HlH_XAbP5uN30Hidbvcyyd_g4DKZnqot58wSKT0zxWW3nQgDIoLzllFKiXSsoamxcgw3clzbUTar_NQIEYhH8Ps-ShdmiIfAhpDMniZDQw-4pc1sOe9tya28p503e_bZMJ6SHAbFnS-YnNQFuZ3GBggQqhBu6Q/s720/bone-orchard.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="462" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ml58BJlq4IoT894BvfWwgbJUxNKo9HlH_XAbP5uN30Hidbvcyyd_g4DKZnqot58wSKT0zxWW3nQgDIoLzllFKiXSsoamxcgw3clzbUTar_NQIEYhH8Ps-ShdmiIfAhpDMniZDQw-4pc1sOe9tya28p503e_bZMJ6SHAbFnS-YnNQFuZ3GBggQqhBu6Q/s320/bone-orchard.jpg" width="205" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sara A. Mueller, <i>The Bone Orchard</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><i>The Bone Orchard</i> is a strikingly original dark fantasy novel right out of the gate: our central location is a brothel where the clients are served by "ghosts" inhabiting vat grown bodies. Spoiler territory: those "ghosts" being put into vat grown bodies at the brothel are actually bits of the main character's fractured sense of self. Each one is meant to serve as a means to keep the central personality safe from harm. </span><span>The premise of having a brothel madame entrusted with figuring out which of the emperor's sons killed him is pretty interesting; it feels like a different flavor of machinations than we usually get. </span><span>The stakes feel nice and high too: we've got the politics of trade, the nation losing their colonial war, and a revolution threatening the imperial center as the army tries to impress citizens into service. </span><span>All of this and a masquerade ball full of intrigues too!</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqha_B6rKSmhtALAhB8mVUsWmd9Rdn7QOQJJX_Y6dVdT6U4aPbKwWAfEaAgHLl_-llQwncwrwyeDG4BE11VdIefKWtTdkn4SCkZbdCorDiuXwhLrLGI780yJflnjuqOYNAVCkDKHoHmKfT-K82QtynM-8525LSVjBWlCjFMrB8Yk0w1jyC0rzGRex7NgI/s4032/PXL_20240109_235954498.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqha_B6rKSmhtALAhB8mVUsWmd9Rdn7QOQJJX_Y6dVdT6U4aPbKwWAfEaAgHLl_-llQwncwrwyeDG4BE11VdIefKWtTdkn4SCkZbdCorDiuXwhLrLGI780yJflnjuqOYNAVCkDKHoHmKfT-K82QtynM-8525LSVjBWlCjFMrB8Yk0w1jyC0rzGRex7NgI/s320/PXL_20240109_235954498.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Coop, <i>Devil's Advocate</i> and <i>Idle Hands</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>There's more <b>PLANET MOTHERFUCKER</b> stuff coming in 2024, so to get pumped up to finish my drafts I've been dipping into Coop's art again for inspiration. Both <i>Devil's Advocate</i> and <i>Idle Hands</i> are great collections of his style of overheated, lowbrow trash culture art. If you like buxom devil women, hot rods, and all the good shit like that, look no further.</span><span><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqq_-Tw8drYEZpQgC7BVRBcNLC5YbLKdFXH9VdHwo_T0TJnQWsiOLghUiRk7HZdclDKAy6FFnSLAy9eF4ca57KkFyqoh0rQecTTBGjN8KyIgcGV6xwW0w5UswPI1VOE1k4OTIppAN6eYBciosWgUFipvnoLrlXruNLP4V4JsjBJOO6CqDMLPA3AnYF3eY/s1280/V8_Charcoal_FrontBigger.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqq_-Tw8drYEZpQgC7BVRBcNLC5YbLKdFXH9VdHwo_T0TJnQWsiOLghUiRk7HZdclDKAy6FFnSLAy9eF4ca57KkFyqoh0rQecTTBGjN8KyIgcGV6xwW0w5UswPI1VOE1k4OTIppAN6eYBciosWgUFipvnoLrlXruNLP4V4JsjBJOO6CqDMLPA3AnYF3eY/s320/V8_Charcoal_FrontBigger.jpeg" width="207" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Garrett Cook, <i>Charcoal</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In Garrett Cook's <i>Charcoal</i> a promising art student is given a set of charcoals by her lecherous professor that may have the ashes of a decadent 19th century libertine mixed into their composition. Now she's drawing terrifying crows that want to be fed on her trauma, and that's the least horrific thing she's experiencing as a result of experimenting with these forbidden art supplies. You can be sure this won't end well. There's a bit of Oscar Wilde's <i>The Picture of Dorian Gray</i> in <i>Charcoal</i>, but I'd recommend this especially to people looking for something in the nexus of A24's better films, Clive Barker, and Kathe Koja.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHHSPvBeXBRid2s5JhmEgFc7dJ1ylcH3O7SMs52JdtvLuP2zVzaNz3cZLuwEJ642UJQsD02HnrnDUBQ_JmSmINZrjrGI4eSQffauiJy9ZWipy9zfB-Il1LPehyOmtol7bXVgj_le8yx1DbOURPlOd0ff8X-OraSlFW-iwEj4R9GMBkhx5R_Igz8W7K5M/s500/463105.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="500" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHHSPvBeXBRid2s5JhmEgFc7dJ1ylcH3O7SMs52JdtvLuP2zVzaNz3cZLuwEJ642UJQsD02HnrnDUBQ_JmSmINZrjrGI4eSQffauiJy9ZWipy9zfB-Il1LPehyOmtol7bXVgj_le8yx1DbOURPlOd0ff8X-OraSlFW-iwEj4R9GMBkhx5R_Igz8W7K5M/w200-h198/463105.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>In This Moment, Godmode</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On <i>Godmode</i>, In This Moment have evolved into a throbbing beast of industrial metal and dark pop grandeur. While the original tracks are great, it's pretty ballsy that they not only did a cover of Bjork's "Army of Me," but that they made that the third track on the album. Impossible to compete with Bjork, but this is pretty solid. Lots of emo, teenage reprobate moments to savor on this one.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtt632K39v9xh-H4VaPyyfWghhcE_CQ-vypAEqIMZYowqIUciJMFdcDTelUCYNxIYq2_39Wi2wbKtQDq0QTbUBg6FQ6WtZQayCOxBHl-VtbXE45zRzGrWnxgsM7GqhTGlDUj60MRaEizjyXnZeHR9qgHW6Xj6ve-talii4jK_46IMFRjhaNWbEMTqlpcc/s1171/linghun%20j.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1171" data-original-width="780" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtt632K39v9xh-H4VaPyyfWghhcE_CQ-vypAEqIMZYowqIUciJMFdcDTelUCYNxIYq2_39Wi2wbKtQDq0QTbUBg6FQ6WtZQayCOxBHl-VtbXE45zRzGrWnxgsM7GqhTGlDUj60MRaEizjyXnZeHR9qgHW6Xj6ve-talii4jK_46IMFRjhaNWbEMTqlpcc/s320/linghun%20j.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Ai Jiang, <i>Linghun</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ai Jiang's <i>Linghun</i> is a grief-heavy novel about a family who moves to a neighborhood where families are known to be visited by the ghosts of their lost loved ones. Meanwhile, those who hope to one day have a home in the neighborhood--but are currently unable to afford it--camp out on the lawns and forlornly wait their turn. Well, they wait their turn until the unearthly spectacle of a house auction, which routinely turns into blood sport. It's easy to say that a novel is a "meditation on grief," but there's no way around it: that's exactly what <i>Linghun</i> is.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQWkBIwa9ozOCIfA6IIVuCJAapttnHc4_BR0jrgm9ydobTpB9Bq39ns-FHgW4O2gPgr5Zxw394ZZ-WJ_C67X_X7Yvzk4FgHCFuHYoA7lhLcp0pQjcD8xzQWMOhis7FrKsXLcP6loJvFgpUBVmxa6l73hZSafPQp5qrSxQzs_QRA20_7-TRtQGWhFFFOw/s1080/image.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="788" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQWkBIwa9ozOCIfA6IIVuCJAapttnHc4_BR0jrgm9ydobTpB9Bq39ns-FHgW4O2gPgr5Zxw394ZZ-WJ_C67X_X7Yvzk4FgHCFuHYoA7lhLcp0pQjcD8xzQWMOhis7FrKsXLcP6loJvFgpUBVmxa6l73hZSafPQp5qrSxQzs_QRA20_7-TRtQGWhFFFOw/s320/image.jpg" width="233" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Suitable Flesh</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Nominally an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft's "The Thing on the Doorstep," <i>Suitable Flesh</i> is a difficult movie to figure out what exactly you appreciated about it. I found it hard to tell which elements were intentional homages to 80s/90s horror and which parts were just plain bad filmmaking; truly, this is a film that has no idea about how psychiatrists operate, despite placing psychiatrists at the center of the narrative. </span><span>For me, Heather Graham and Barbara Crampton saved it; t</span><span>hey both seemed like they were having a lot of fun. Also, the use of billowing curtains and sultry saxophone in the sex scenes was A+ throwback work.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pUzDYF6LwKuj6NMSbtrpAsYLCknWgGVdMoSjbQHbCwvz9Vp2JPrYoL0HDluwBJuCi1XkmF5Hf3mQeFSdZm-H2zpff_jkOG0pHJZwVAVoXgCL8O5UsZaE5bZ6-paJ4z9QZUeOPa7EIQD5ffU0dumwlPyfMVK34HXbm8Y_fazWqbm-gXPAOeZSXLhEQ4Q/s1500/71xftpvzq8l.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pUzDYF6LwKuj6NMSbtrpAsYLCknWgGVdMoSjbQHbCwvz9Vp2JPrYoL0HDluwBJuCi1XkmF5Hf3mQeFSdZm-H2zpff_jkOG0pHJZwVAVoXgCL8O5UsZaE5bZ6-paJ4z9QZUeOPa7EIQD5ffU0dumwlPyfMVK34HXbm8Y_fazWqbm-gXPAOeZSXLhEQ4Q/s320/71xftpvzq8l.jpg" width="224" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Kaori Yuki, <i>Beauty and the Beast of Paradise Lost, vols. 1-5</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Kaori Yuki is my favorite mangaka, so I'll pretty much read anything of hers that gets translated into English. Although she isn't the most startling artist, I love the themes she works with throughout her many series of manga. <i>Beauty and the Beast of Paradise Lost</i> is no different. On the surface, it's a retelling of Beauty and the Beast (and to be honest, the "Paradise Lost" bit doesn't factor in literally), but the manga excavates the inherent Gothic romance of the source story and turns it into something surprising and, in places, monstrous.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSasA3GOfVSLMire7GpnfCpzhFBlVkLC6V9sGSx3JRJeYMNZjZI0wNQy5bJATqLS5l91qfpjYFvYECU6rWhQt_yIvbNK-r5uJGpd0lWILE2drhGUmTMd_mkdAwUjdTqiehcChC6PWBrm7aVzoOLY4p-KHILNkGNRPxcBGKRC18tJfnkJa3K641bhnMXGI/s1500/sisters-lost-nation%20j.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="994" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSasA3GOfVSLMire7GpnfCpzhFBlVkLC6V9sGSx3JRJeYMNZjZI0wNQy5bJATqLS5l91qfpjYFvYECU6rWhQt_yIvbNK-r5uJGpd0lWILE2drhGUmTMd_mkdAwUjdTqiehcChC6PWBrm7aVzoOLY4p-KHILNkGNRPxcBGKRC18tJfnkJa3K641bhnMXGI/s320/sisters-lost-nation%20j.jpg" width="212" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Nick Medina, <i>Sisters of the Lost Nation</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Nick Medina's <i>Sisters of the Lost Nation</i>, a novel in which a young Native American woman grapples with the sudden and ominous disappearance of her little sister, plays off the epidemic of Native women who go missing in North America. I was expecting something more folk horror from the description I read of it, but it was really good nonetheless. In particular, the tense feeling engendered by the novel's structure--it moves backwards and forwards along a timeline of events related to the sister's disappearance--really kept me on the edge of my seat and kept me turning pages to find out what had happened and how the novel would resolve.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH25OoTPf1M-6uCkLj0fzTyVbKJc-48S19x56cIpwZxrSCMmq84gPbvOtKvpeeNmnWxDwKQ_ZK5xJGFrF2dGrktU_B2GZGy3ym1S4Q5goJk47cQLPiScZRr9EIYDrNffC8DlUQe_c3DXV_9FJISaw0L7-hmAjYoeTi96vr-QdaaUJ3_rKma4OpMCPLCsE/s1500/house.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH25OoTPf1M-6uCkLj0fzTyVbKJc-48S19x56cIpwZxrSCMmq84gPbvOtKvpeeNmnWxDwKQ_ZK5xJGFrF2dGrktU_B2GZGy3ym1S4Q5goJk47cQLPiScZRr9EIYDrNffC8DlUQe_c3DXV_9FJISaw0L7-hmAjYoeTi96vr-QdaaUJ3_rKma4OpMCPLCsE/s320/house.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>The Fall of the House of Usher</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">When Mike Flanagan's <i>The Fall of the House of Usher</i> series was announced, I was very excited...until I found out it was a Mike Flanagan joint. Despite minor triumphs like <i>Oculus</i> and his adaptation of <i>Gerald's Game</i>, I really didn't like his take on <i>The Haunting of Hill House;</i> I felt like it mined the surface details of Shirley Jackson's novel for very little reward.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I expected <i>The Fall of the House of Usher</i> to follow suit. Though it's a mixed bag, and again really doesn't evidence a deeper understanding of Poe's work than a Wikipedia dive could give, it is buoyed by strong performances from Mark Hammill and Carla Gugino. Though I'm still not convinced that the show benefits from all the "Easter egging" and doesn't do much with Poe's corpus, there were some nice moments strewn about the dross.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPhTsGAJVDo3HZdw0o7QxnFNbM467d54gU56W80R90B1ocp_OIP0WFADZxZE7obLAIcQZXtuUSDxi_0N_GOv2DKfO2i19z-SUYOS3vib1XusUsZ_mR8Fig0MhtzK-GlYx7L9e57ceWafMw16vEabqsjU3aY7_wA_JB8nhmaCU20KhCrcbSjO4dZhpvOE/s1440/planet%20terror.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPhTsGAJVDo3HZdw0o7QxnFNbM467d54gU56W80R90B1ocp_OIP0WFADZxZE7obLAIcQZXtuUSDxi_0N_GOv2DKfO2i19z-SUYOS3vib1XusUsZ_mR8Fig0MhtzK-GlYx7L9e57ceWafMw16vEabqsjU3aY7_wA_JB8nhmaCU20KhCrcbSjO4dZhpvOE/s320/planet%20terror.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Grindhouse</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's been many, many years since I last watched <i>Grindhouse</i>--Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez's joint love letter to the sleazy films of yesteryear--but god-damn I still think this is an under-rated good time. <i>Planet Terror</i> is prime Rose McGowan, has some insane ultraviolence, and also features some great visual gags. I was surprised that the car chase in <i>Death Proof</i> still makes me feel incredibly tense even though I've seen it a ton of times. Throw in those great fake movie trailers--several of which have since gone on to become full films in their own right--and you have an absolutely winning combination.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE20xq792e80540Efhm6J3mnJGARZWJ7MMfxoE5EJ114-wjajxXsbkRkHO0jG4gImVL-l0HDGAsZ_EEQ1awBqke3N9thmzfRmWXC95skDoJIJAyL3VUJURCRHUu_c_YbShRW15QoRLOBRtYJAHM4CvXfkbKzLML9NVXQSTx9ayXpGRNUU2siPhiRId0A/s2000/Death_Note_Short_Stories%20j.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE20xq792e80540Efhm6J3mnJGARZWJ7MMfxoE5EJ114-wjajxXsbkRkHO0jG4gImVL-l0HDGAsZ_EEQ1awBqke3N9thmzfRmWXC95skDoJIJAyL3VUJURCRHUu_c_YbShRW15QoRLOBRtYJAHM4CvXfkbKzLML9NVXQSTx9ayXpGRNUU2siPhiRId0A/s320/Death_Note_Short_Stories%20j.jpg" width="224" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obara, <i>Death Note Short Stories</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I read all of <i>Death Note</i> last year and was surprised to find that it actually is an incredibly well put-together manga series. <i>Death Note Short Stories</i> is exactly what it says on the tin: a collection of shorter works connected to the main story. One of the stories is a long "sequel" of sorts about the next person to get their hands on the death note; others are jokey four-panel comics or shorter vignette-like stories. Overall, this is a nice companion volume to the main series, though it probably isn't essential to the enjoyment of <i>Death Note</i> as a whole. One hilarious thing: it's canon that Donald Trump almost got his hands on the death note.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHuJqjIe1pptwJ-ENSON60l8vUDJfiKrllEVI82whUndGjwGoptJi0-ajYA4cB7hNshVHlhY41RiuNZ4x02si9Jx1_cDFdLR0cJwTGfhPram3RfrSKfNPoVkLhbcKAlDDxXmUuN6ebHjB3vXGCcc4wls2W2enwZ2gsaL7wUZIhrNl_Yog4chJDHmFQ_c/s2560/58293284.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1669" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHuJqjIe1pptwJ-ENSON60l8vUDJfiKrllEVI82whUndGjwGoptJi0-ajYA4cB7hNshVHlhY41RiuNZ4x02si9Jx1_cDFdLR0cJwTGfhPram3RfrSKfNPoVkLhbcKAlDDxXmUuN6ebHjB3vXGCcc4wls2W2enwZ2gsaL7wUZIhrNl_Yog4chJDHmFQ_c/s320/58293284.jpg" width="209" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Richard Swan, <i>The Justice of Kings</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Richard Swan's <i>The Justice of Kings</i> follows the exploits and travails of Konrad Vonvalt, a "Justice" of the Emperor--essentially a traveling magistrate entrusted with occult powers to ferret out the truth and make sound judgements on legal matters in accordance with secular law. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Although the story concerns Vonvalt's character arc, it is told to us by his clerk, a woman named Helena. In the narrative she is relating, she is a young and petulant woman of nineteen. She's had a difficult life of hardscrabble survival, and at this point in her life she is unsure whether she wants to pursue the path to becoming a Justice herself or if she'd like to leave Vonvalt's service. Of course, Helena scarcely has time to consider her options as a seemingly routine murder investigation involves the protagonists in a conspiracy with ramifications that threaten to shake the Empire's stability. Want to know more? Check out my full review<b> <a href="https://badbooksbadpeople.com/blog/the-justice-of-kings">over at Bad Books for Bad People</a></b>.</span><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcmbRIMc7o2IFKWiacUEEtQ71_8S3x7tmleBy315p2ppqE3VEADXf39vTuE_UNZzUHIJ7qWqY0Nc6EkJtxBCNBXGsWTWSe10aX2WdBE6HAK3hFlKn4vNKEIvACNTJR4JK_iH19UkLusP2Y5KOzvev4xGUhl4CzRaJUfg-INvx7kHKHh9z5BM6SBrcxdg/s2048/kill%20list.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1382" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcmbRIMc7o2IFKWiacUEEtQ71_8S3x7tmleBy315p2ppqE3VEADXf39vTuE_UNZzUHIJ7qWqY0Nc6EkJtxBCNBXGsWTWSe10aX2WdBE6HAK3hFlKn4vNKEIvACNTJR4JK_iH19UkLusP2Y5KOzvev4xGUhl4CzRaJUfg-INvx7kHKHh9z5BM6SBrcxdg/s320/kill%20list.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Kill List</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I watched <i>Kill List</i> at the urging of one of my friends on Discord. It was a great recommendation too because I love this slow-burn style of horror that features a big left-hand turn in the narrative. At the start, <i>Kill List</i> appears to be a crime thriller about two ex-military men who have turned assassins-for-hire. They receive a list of three people they are being paid to kill, but with each murder things get a little stranger and more unsettling. We also see that there is something going on with the woman who has befriended one of the men's wives by being a ready ear for the strain their relationship has been under. Of course, by the third killing all hell breaks loose; the assassins interrupt a bizarre cult ritual and things culminate in an unexpectedly folk horror direction. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqcM4_xs_Lub8M88w8IricKiLNDrl92P97SllSF8Tz11vdXq0QeqAKIvnqnJo-0GvuNviAyhPQTud2Va0wpB0rV4w6EG2cxcGWf6PTUcfzyTlDeAl6pjRl7Hos75DKwY75DW6jJdKwVIpBBWe1rdkAJxABhY8WIfOr-QkKmbpNyJjHyh4QB_eA_9ZVmQ/s1535/a-cure-for-wellness-cinema-one-sheet-movie-poster-(2).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="1050" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqcM4_xs_Lub8M88w8IricKiLNDrl92P97SllSF8Tz11vdXq0QeqAKIvnqnJo-0GvuNviAyhPQTud2Va0wpB0rV4w6EG2cxcGWf6PTUcfzyTlDeAl6pjRl7Hos75DKwY75DW6jJdKwVIpBBWe1rdkAJxABhY8WIfOr-QkKmbpNyJjHyh4QB_eA_9ZVmQ/s320/a-cure-for-wellness-cinema-one-sheet-movie-poster-(2).jpg" width="219" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>A Cure for Wellness</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>A Cure for Wellness</i> was another recommendation I got from the folks on my Discord. (Sorry, it was so long ago that I've forgotten who actually mentioned it, but it was a good rec!) In <i>A Cure for Wellness</i>, an up-and-coming financial executive is sent to a wellness center in the Swiss Alps to retrieve his corporation's missing-in-action CEO. Of course, he arrives and discovers that there is something sinister going on at the center and he becomes embroiled in an extremely Gothic plot. Though the plot doesn't make a ton of sense and the film is admittedly a bit overlong, <i>A Cure for Wellness</i> is a beautifully shot film with some truly disturbing scenes. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYECqmlIAa3tewz2B-f022_d2qYLn-4ol24dHsxRPKzGFoL7jysB8Wt2m6iGFLB6xf9HIqiYAQ7VQi__w-Z9aVTCXulWC_6m4mD5vHxVa_Z-oaFgN4nK7g9ZYN9fKVgYv8ZzE-pMSmktm8o5kMZ1oZ-hBWVM2mZmMs_pOQIR2HWaogRVHgRvO_Iz7AsA/s2153/58733818.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2153" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYECqmlIAa3tewz2B-f022_d2qYLn-4ol24dHsxRPKzGFoL7jysB8Wt2m6iGFLB6xf9HIqiYAQ7VQi__w-Z9aVTCXulWC_6m4mD5vHxVa_Z-oaFgN4nK7g9ZYN9fKVgYv8ZzE-pMSmktm8o5kMZ1oZ-hBWVM2mZmMs_pOQIR2HWaogRVHgRvO_Iz7AsA/s320/58733818.jpg" width="190" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Scott Snyder and Francesco Francavilla, <i>Night of the Ghoul</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Night of the Ghoul </i>is a pretty cool horror comic from Scott Snyder and Francesco Francavilla. It's very cinematic; the story starts with a horror film fanatic dragging his teenage son to visit a dying man he believes is the director of a lost "classic" horror flick in a secretive hospital. Of course, not all is what it seems--the film, the director's life, and now this father and son duo are deeply embroiled with the monstrous ghoul. One thing I really enjoyed about <i>Night of the Ghoul</i> is the way it leverages the structural possibilities of comics to enable its storytelling: we cut from the main action in the present, back to World War II, and also bits from the lost film. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid32NKzu7509Pct41zbmwrHfem2MXzpfm9vYtIdX9mA5yRcVpul3w4-mHcZ9Nxz-pxjrCOLmKWYydEJ5Ik9G03IOMVYgfk0M_R97Y_f54h_yH4r1cLx3H4B2GnO8m2lBJhbvGwMfcglCUmnuCoOS03g9hrCf6oSmeMg1McKhVwI8aPxL8zA7tKBh2TujM/s1170/The-Doctor-and-the-Devils-images-88049c46-21c6-48a2-b83b-8d5dd0b136b.webp" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="780" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid32NKzu7509Pct41zbmwrHfem2MXzpfm9vYtIdX9mA5yRcVpul3w4-mHcZ9Nxz-pxjrCOLmKWYydEJ5Ik9G03IOMVYgfk0M_R97Y_f54h_yH4r1cLx3H4B2GnO8m2lBJhbvGwMfcglCUmnuCoOS03g9hrCf6oSmeMg1McKhVwI8aPxL8zA7tKBh2TujM/s320/The-Doctor-and-the-Devils-images-88049c46-21c6-48a2-b83b-8d5dd0b136b.webp" width="213" /></a></div>The Doctor and the Devils</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Doctor and the Devils</i> is a pretty straightforward retelling of Burke & Hare's crimes, but with a surprisingly hefty bit of talent behind it: Timothy Dalton, Patrick Stewart, Twiggy (!!!), and Julian Sands. (Seriously, did anyone else know there was a movie where Twiggy plays a nineteenth-century prostitute?) To be clear, this really isn't a horror movie as such; <i>The Doctor and the Devils</i> is definitely more in the realm of dark historical reenactment, should that matter to you.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QbDKyx6dKj9eSu_9i3y4KSfe5szUNVFkvsZk_NpllXY4RURy8YbbFsO1HxlTiAx76kQ9BCZXuuu9OCbyACyyGHOo5F5PlB4EclF9sSTCDmpcIY68lKh_NM2qY_EvVHx3wAUpPsVTrwN8KDu2Lig-E8BDjZHRvVqaGudKZ35LmPvfsE_d4z_PUjw9jJ4/s2153/STL266773.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2153" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QbDKyx6dKj9eSu_9i3y4KSfe5szUNVFkvsZk_NpllXY4RURy8YbbFsO1HxlTiAx76kQ9BCZXuuu9OCbyACyyGHOo5F5PlB4EclF9sSTCDmpcIY68lKh_NM2qY_EvVHx3wAUpPsVTrwN8KDu2Lig-E8BDjZHRvVqaGudKZ35LmPvfsE_d4z_PUjw9jJ4/s320/STL266773.jpeg" width="208" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Cullen Bunn, Arjuna Susini, Hilary Jenkins, <i>Lamentation</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In <i>Lamentation</i>, a young woman shows up to audition for a play and suddenly finds herself cast in the lead role. The catch is that the theater seems to exist in its own shadowy dimension; the players are all trapped within it until they successfully perform the violent Gothic melodrama they've been given as a script. Which is easier said than done, since murder, jealousy, a maze-like interior, and supernatural horrors all provide obstacles to seeing the play through and finding freedom. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIi6foSw-bzuEEGU7KBtXnEh84Lhu8FW2vAQRdwpE4dmyT02vXotoDfdhzJwuvhfl-JkWIhELlFJPZxyLji3JMBld8HLryIn8kM02xzWaRhfzZW6FRdmbKVTyR_GRQrCtxC9Rl4WjlISy89scXmG6srX4hskMZQKEhAyd67yH9rHM59nOl1v6Nu-AZLpw/s2488/consecration-2023-poster.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2488" data-original-width="1680" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIi6foSw-bzuEEGU7KBtXnEh84Lhu8FW2vAQRdwpE4dmyT02vXotoDfdhzJwuvhfl-JkWIhELlFJPZxyLji3JMBld8HLryIn8kM02xzWaRhfzZW6FRdmbKVTyR_GRQrCtxC9Rl4WjlISy89scXmG6srX4hskMZQKEhAyd67yH9rHM59nOl1v6Nu-AZLpw/s320/consecration-2023-poster.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Consecration</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I really loved Christopher Smith's <i>Black Death</i>, so when I heard he had a recent "religious horror" film out I had to make time to watch it. Although it didn't thrill me as much as <i>Black Death</i>, <i>Consecration</i> is a really interesting movie that puts an unique spin of the subgenre of Catholic horror. When her brother dies under mysterious circumstances, a woman travels to a remote convent to uncover the truth of his death--and along the way uncovers some massive secrets about her own past. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqKtdI8v-bauztbB3pcdjt2dSKvsa7oeRKDuvHdd7_Hmk3B93p5XOa9KOKETaD-oO3SXv1ldfjjpUiNm3rqbi0Y71x4dpVNxYAcKJ_pZMiRQy8wZ4WA2bKN1g3dtnYeaCEHV7AbevxgAnAyHts7pQZ0uE3tbCBll493daP9CCVONOpIofi3rAIs_anGNw/s469/Chatelaine_cover_med-e1675726107941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="306" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqKtdI8v-bauztbB3pcdjt2dSKvsa7oeRKDuvHdd7_Hmk3B93p5XOa9KOKETaD-oO3SXv1ldfjjpUiNm3rqbi0Y71x4dpVNxYAcKJ_pZMiRQy8wZ4WA2bKN1g3dtnYeaCEHV7AbevxgAnAyHts7pQZ0uE3tbCBll493daP9CCVONOpIofi3rAIs_anGNw/s320/Chatelaine_cover_med-e1675726107941.jpg" width="209" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Kate Heartfield, <i>The Chatelaine</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had been interested in reading Kate Heartfield's <i>The Chatelaine</i> back when it was originally released under the more compelling name Armed in Her Fashion with a much more compelling cover. I've seen it compared to Christopher Buehlman's <i>Between Two Fires</i>, and while I can see some similarities, such as the presence of demons and a medieval setting, <i>The Chatelaine</i> is not nearly as brutal. It is quite good, though; in the wake of a demonic invasion of Bruges, a middle-aged mother with a sharp tongue, her romantic daughter, and an unusual mercenary march into Hell in pursuit of money and treasure that is legally due to them. Interesting, <i>The Chatelaine</i> addresses the themes that a book I read in January and didn't like, Anna Biller's <i>Bluebeard's Castle</i> tried to work with, namely the ways in which women have to navigate a patriarchal world, with much more nuance and intelligence.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVYhk47Y-RkRp0uNt-lfX3hbzO2u9tXnex-writfhMNmLCssBxRYfrbE354pc_XosrXScKxq7G8IM-4bPcikk2nZH6ysl6F41nqnxK7dy6sGtvzgU_TjUQuQaiiSjF6cuHAN-AOKiK9PJS1kMueX3_1R8g6QeAtOrmEVVKFCgoYT3PjTQjoUjhaOlxqU/s1600/nhJWRKdn66hzfnBjoSMgk4FmpzqwWS_original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1288" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVYhk47Y-RkRp0uNt-lfX3hbzO2u9tXnex-writfhMNmLCssBxRYfrbE354pc_XosrXScKxq7G8IM-4bPcikk2nZH6ysl6F41nqnxK7dy6sGtvzgU_TjUQuQaiiSjF6cuHAN-AOKiK9PJS1kMueX3_1R8g6QeAtOrmEVVKFCgoYT3PjTQjoUjhaOlxqU/s320/nhJWRKdn66hzfnBjoSMgk4FmpzqwWS_original.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Nightmare Alley</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I snuck in one more movie before we rolled over into February. Prior to this, I had only seen Guillermo del Toro's adaptation of <i>Nightmare Alley</i>, but now I've seen Edmund Goulding's take on the novel. It's a quite good film noir, though I do think its run time doesn't really do it any favors. This is probably going to sound wildly out of pocket in some corners, but I preferred del Toro's version! As is typical of the era in which it was filmed, this version has a lot of shots that are simply framed around two characters embroiled in a close-up conversation; the additional sense of movement in del Toro's film really does add some interest that I found myself missing.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p></div></div>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-50771442792208463642024-01-28T22:23:00.000-05:002024-01-28T22:23:54.837-05:00The Wolf, the Rabbit, and the Rose<p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUwHiWst8b9pDKR_vvwcBd6mZxRK9aeTgEkltsnx8f6Zm5ixVT_WokA2w_JhfMaji4BuPaQ_xSc7vxUuRHxqlqpkzwG9k404oDL9tiWn-jGzaCzY072zJNRQqitSn1EKCoDcI40-ZpozkM5IsAsNogq9dLRVwVZWwo6S3SFtvHJhYB2-P2s2WsFNkSnY/s2048/skadi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1410" data-original-width="2048" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUwHiWst8b9pDKR_vvwcBd6mZxRK9aeTgEkltsnx8f6Zm5ixVT_WokA2w_JhfMaji4BuPaQ_xSc7vxUuRHxqlqpkzwG9k404oDL9tiWn-jGzaCzY072zJNRQqitSn1EKCoDcI40-ZpozkM5IsAsNogq9dLRVwVZWwo6S3SFtvHJhYB2-P2s2WsFNkSnY/s320/skadi.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In my head, this is kinda what Laorishe looks like</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">We've finished exploring the Necropolis of Omera! We're taking a little hiatus from the Savage Krevborna campaign and one of the players is going to run some <i>Pulp Cthulhu</i> for us. The timing is great because given the events of this session I need to rethink the direction the campaign is heading in as we near what is likely the endgame of the campaign.</span></p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pendleton Torst, rogue anatomist</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina Redmoor, prioress of an unusual convent</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd, dissolute swashbuckler </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Panthalassa Laurentide, a very weird orphan</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul Carathis, necromancer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona Midnight, dhampir gunslinger</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Asudem, a drowned antiquarian brought back from the dead</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Events</span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When we last left our heroes, they had followed lines of poetry scrawled on the ceiling of a hallway and inadvertently triggered a trap that sent a boulder rushing their way. Luck was on their side: most of the party were able to flatten themselves against the wall to avoid the boulder, but even those that were struck by it were merely bowled over and suffered no injuries greater than painful bruising. However, Daytona's doppelganger chose that moment to arrive with a summoned hellhound in tow and began to open fire on the party. Geradd killed the hellhound instantly, but the fight with the doppelganger proved more difficult--especially because wounding the doppelganger was causing injuries to the real Daytona. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When Catarina managed a kill shot that splattered the doppelganger's brains across the wall, the real Daytona dropped unconscious and began to bleed out. The timely medical intervention of Pendleton was able to save Daytona from the black gates of death. They were able to loot the remaining glass lizard eye they had been looking for from the pocket of the false Daytona's duster. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now that the last eye was in their possession, they decided to return to the third floor of the Necropolis and use it to open the locked chamber. The interior of the room was massive; it had a high, vaulted ceiling, a marble floor, and was lit by hundreds of candles. They could see the glitter of golden treasure in nine alcoves within the room, but what drew their eye immediately was a massive object in the center of the chamber that was covered with a shroud. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Peaking under the shroud revealed that the thing had massive feet of fossilized bone not unlike a bird or reptile. Of course, the fossilized creature began to move, casting off its shroud as its thundering footsteps cracked the marble floor. It revealed itself to be the animate remains of a powerful, primordial creature. Despite its lack of organs, its terrifying roar momentarily stunned some members of the party. The creature proved nearly invulnerable to their attacks; bullets and blows could not even chip the fossilized bone. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The party was riven, with some members fleeing the chamber while the others tried to stay and fight. The monstrous skeleton's powerful teeth were taking chunks out of the party and the fight was not going in their favor--until Geradd began to climb up its bony ribcage and attempted to pull its head from its neck. Vertebrae were cracking and he was straining in effort, but ultimately he pried its skull loose from its body and sent it crashing down to the floor in a pile of bones. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After collecting as much treasure as they could carry from the alcoves, they decided to explore one last room they had left untouched. The interior of this chamber was decorated with murals of hunters armed with spears and bows. There was also a sarcophagus of black basalt with a wolf statuette on the lid. Above the sarcophagus a golden orb dangled from a chain. Raoul clambered on top of the sarcophagus and tried to grasp the orb, but it shot a fiery bolt at him that sent him diving for cover. Pendleton, who wears the cloak of an elven pyromancer that he believed made him invulnerable to fire, also tried to grasp the orb, but this merely taught him the limitations of his magical protection: he was badly burned by the bolt that struck him. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona cut this Gordian knot by simply firing at the orb and destroying it from a distance. Inside the sarcophagus was a leather sack filled with black pearls, a black iron key, a ruby scepter, and a ruby choker. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Returning to the fifth level of the Necropolis, they took the northern passage and found themselves in a walled rose garden that was open to the purple "sun" that shone above them. A teenaged girl, barefoot and filthy, emerged from the depths of the garden and introduced herself as Thomasina, the third wife of Dorian Margrave. Under her breath Thomasina reminded herself to be "Polite, informative, and regal," though her behavior left the party wondered about her mental state. She offered to take the group to Rosaria and Laorishe or accompany them as they explored this level of the Necropolis.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They opted to explore further and get their bearings. After passing through Rosaria's bedroom, they entered a room with a large blue orb resting on a pedestal. Somewhat oddly, after it was determined that the orb was not a solid object, Pendleton stuck his head into it. His attempts to look around inside of it caused a variety of effects: the blood lake on this level became agitated and began to flood the walkways, an earthquake shook the Necropolis, and he heard a mysterious, authoritative voice in his head. Messing with the orb also caused the door to the chamber to seal shut and a new door to open on the northern wall of the room.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Following the northern passage brought them to a room in which a large brass mechanical orrey was whirring about, its planetary bodies in motion around the sun. Raoul noticed that the sun had a hatch on it; inside was a human-sized chair with many levers. Raoul sat in the chair and began throwing levers. Unfortunately, this caused the purple sun to go out. The temperature dropped suddenly; the group could now see their exhalations. They could hear the tolling of a distant bell. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The bone moon began to glow with an eerie blue aura. Six androgynous figures, each with a length of chain spilling from a wound in their abdomens, emerged from the moon and attacked the party. Geradd was grievously wounded by one of the creatures, but the outbreak of violence unveiled a different side of Thomasina: she drew a hand axe from her belt and went absolutely berserk. She lopped the head off one of the creatures, and leapt upon another--whom she tore at with her teeth whilst bashing it with her weapon. When three of the creatures had been killed, Pendleton had a clear path to the orrey; sitting in the chair, he was able to throw the right levers to get the planetary bodies to align correctly. This banished the remaining creatures. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The group decided they had had enough of exploration and asked Thomasina to bring them to Laorishe and Rosaria. The two women appeared much like they had in the dream that some of the group had shared previously, save that they were much paler--due to undeath, of course. Laorishe wore a crown that featured wolf symbology, and Rosaria's crown was fashioned with roses. Laorishe smoothed Thomasina's hair and placed a crown with a rabbit motif on the girl's head. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After exchanging pleasantries, Laorishe pressed the party on what their attitude was at this point regarding Dorian and the sword they wished to gain possession of (<b>1</b>). The consensus they had come to on their way through the Necropolis was that they would like to negotiate for the Brineblade with Dorian. This news pleased Laorishe immensely; the three wives led the party down the stairs to the final level of the Necropolis where they found Dorian waiting for them with six heavily armored knights (<b>2</b>).</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dorian was a massive man, and now, due to his life of sin, he was a drakoi--a man whose visage had been corrupted to that of a dragon. He bore five swords, two at his left side, one at his right, and two strapped to his back. He greeted the party and congratulated them on making it to the sixth level of the Necropolis, a feat few had managed. He drew the Brineblade, a cutlass with a coral-like handle and a pearlescent blade. He too was pleased to hear that they would like to bargain for the sword. His first offer was that he would exchange the Brineblade for two things: they would disrupt the binding spell that kept Dorian and his wives trapped within the Necropolis and that they would join his conquering army. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The party accepted the offer (<b>3</b>).</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd entered the crawlspace the led to the ritual chamber and broke the binding sigil. Dorian, his wives, and his retinue of knights met them on the way up; Dorian was true to his word: he handed over the Brineblade.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As they exited the the Necropolis together, Dorian told them that he would call upon them for their aid when the time was right. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Outside the Necropolis, they found Raymond Carathis and hired mercenaries waiting for them. Raymond admitted that he had considered robbing them of any loot they acquired in the Necropolis should they emerge alive, but his errand was altogether different: he had been sent with a letter for his cousin Raoul that he feared not to deliver personally. Raoul broke the seal on the letter and visibly paled. He informed the group that he had urgent business back in Creedhall, and that they needed to depart in all haste.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Notes</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">(<b>1</b>) - If it seemed like the party was still planning on fighting Dorian for the Brineblade, Laorishe would have attacked them and commanded Rosaria and Thomasina to join in the fray. Thomasina is a broken maniac who has been trained to be Laorishe's attack dog. Rosaria would rather not fight the group, but she's more afraid of Laorishe's wrath than she is of the party. For her part, Laorishe is the personification of "Ride or Die": there is nothing she wouldn't do to protect Dorian.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">(<b>2</b>) - If the party had resorted to violence at this point, things would likely have gone very badly for them. Although they were uninjured at this point, they were low on Bennies and in this scenario they would have been badly outnumbered; they would have to fight Dorian (who could wield all five swords on his turn), his six knights, and his three wives (two of which are murderous psychopaths). If negotiations turned sour, the session would have ended in a very different way.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">(<b>3</b>) - I was shocked that they agreed to Dorian's first proposal, or at least didn't counter with an offer of their own. This greatly alters where the campaign is going.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-20673613904220553042024-01-23T22:01:00.000-05:002024-01-23T22:01:26.612-05:00A Dream Within a Dream<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOCXA8srGImjsCKGDjD9-ZbR4BSAUcoQAl9oOdEPferzPnrefYjIg3GpPJ1YSdFrhV2V-uzpANBmYsEP2j07nmGhrOfhcaDyTBMV64XQO0NDi9jLK1hBim6m9Cb-wcSN6AqsDNZAGNlE2OAVM0Ou9ANkSvMiw_65_MLZdXFHH8vcOXgNuJv2oH_uIH0U/s1920/jack-b-iA9-ZBGgEwo-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOCXA8srGImjsCKGDjD9-ZbR4BSAUcoQAl9oOdEPferzPnrefYjIg3GpPJ1YSdFrhV2V-uzpANBmYsEP2j07nmGhrOfhcaDyTBMV64XQO0NDi9jLK1hBim6m9Cb-wcSN6AqsDNZAGNlE2OAVM0Ou9ANkSvMiw_65_MLZdXFHH8vcOXgNuJv2oH_uIH0U/s320/jack-b-iA9-ZBGgEwo-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">We played another session of Savage Krevborna on Edgar Allan Poe's birthday, and I managed to work in a little Poe reference just for kicks.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pendleton Torst, rogue anatomist</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina Redmoor, prioress of an unusual convent</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd, dissolute swashbuckler </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Panthalassa Laurentide, a very weird orphan</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul Carathis, necromancer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona Midnight, dhampir gunslinger</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Asudem, a drowned antiquarian brought back from the dead</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Bonnie Prince Dio, cambion knight</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Events</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When the elevator from the third floor to the fourth settled into place atop a pile of bleeding, writhing zombies, the group found a cambion knight awaiting them. Introducing himself as Bonnie Prince Dio, he informed the party that he had been sent by Hell to bring the false Daytona to heel. Thankful for help, even help of infernal origins, the group pressed on. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Their explorations brought them face to face with four gargoyles who swooped down from pillars to attack when they attempted to leave the chamber. After the gargoyles were destroyed, they found a room that had a dusty mirror spanning one of its walls; when the dust was cleared away, they could see the six individuals that some of the party had met in the "dream of the Burgundy House." By reading their lips, they could tell that the six cultists in the glass were mouthing the words "Don't break the mirror." There was some debate over whether that message should be trusted, but they decided to leave the mirror intact. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The corridor they followed ended in a stone block that had been painted with a figure wearing a tragedy mask. The figure's left hand was upheld with two fingers extended; the figure's right hand was held downward with two fingers extended. They discovered no traps on the block, and when Panthalassa tried hitting it with her pickaxe there was no effect, but when Asudem copied the figure's gestures the stone block slid up into the ceiling to reveal a chamber beyond. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the chamber they found a black crown, adorned with black opals, sitting upon an equally black throne. On the east wall was a man-size carving of a goat's head--albeit one flayed of flesh. Raoul cast a spell to detect magic on the crown and learned that it emanated a demonic aura. When the crown was removed from the throne, the block slid back into position, sealing them inside the chamber. It also caused all their light sources to dim. A bas-relief of people looking up at a glowing purple sun appeared on the stonework in the room. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul placed the crown on his head, which immediately made him look more imperious and commanding. Whereas everyone else only saw a black void within the stone goat's head, he now saw a swirling gray mist. He stuck his hand into the mist--and felt multiple cold pairs of hands grasp him and pull him into the void. The rest of the group simply saw Raoul disappear inside, which caused them to panic. Both Geradd and Daytona tried to enter the darkness inside the goat carving, but they were both rebuffed and suffered necrotic wounds for their trouble. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">However, Daytona had the bright idea to see if the purple sun from the bas-relief could be pried off the wall--and it could! Using it as a kind of magic lantern that consumed the void beyond the goat's mouth, he was able to clear a safe path through the darkness to a throne room where Raoul sat upon an ornate black seat. Raoul appeared to be asleep and he now wore princely black robes. He had also been transformed back to his usual appearance, instead of a fish-man hybrid. When he awoke on the throne, he awoke <i>screaming</i> with no memory of what had happened to him.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The stone blocks trapping them inside had also now lifted. In the next chamber they explored they found further bas-reliefs, though these seemed to depict a number of seaside towns being destroyed by massive waves from the ocean. There was also a human skeleton partially embedded in the wall, its arm extended to hold a sconce with a green candle. Unfortunately, stone blocks dropped down at either end of the passageway and water began to pour into the chamber at an alarming rate. Panic again ensued. Geradd figured out that the skeleton's bones could be removed from the wall and that each bone held enough air to act as a temporary breathing apparatus. After those who needed to breath were equipped with a source of air, all they had to do was wait until the water receded and the stone blocks retreated. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In a further tomb, they found twenty stained glass knights, each kneeling and facing a plain stone sarcophagus. The glasswork that made up the knights had a rose pattern that resembled the dress that Rosaria, one of Dorian Margrave's wives, was wearing in the dream. Despite correctly guessing that the stained glass statues would react poorly to opening the sarcophagus, they opened the sarcophagus. Predictably, all twenty of the glass knights attacked en masse. A massive battle commenced, but Catarina, Daytona, and Asudem's gun shots were putting down statues left and right, and Geradd's wild glaive strikes sometimes took out four statues at a time. Assistance was provided by the giant skeleton that Raoul summoned and from a demon soldier that Daytona conjured. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once the legion of glass knights was destroyed, they found a room that could only be opened when someone bled into the open mouth of the statue positioned outside the door. (Daytona did the bleeding.) They found themselves in another throne room, but this chamber was inhabited by three undead creatures whose eyes and mouths were sewn shut. There was a black scepter, also decorated with black opals, upon the throne. Raoul moved to collect the scepter; the three undead creatures seemed to lunge at him, but instead of attacking they bowed to him. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After this, they found the stairs down to the fifth level of the Necropolis. As they descended, Raoul used the scepter to make a purple "sun" illuminate the darkness above them. At the bottom of the spiral staircase was a small landing; they discovered that the landing was an "island" in a sea of blood. (Daytona confirmed that it was actual human blood.) On the landing was a jetty, to which was tied two rowboats. They decided to scout out the area using the rowboats. The current brought them to a waterfall of blood that rained down from above. They also observed that there were a number of still-living degenerate dwarves hanging from chains high above them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Back at the landing, they took a corridor that ended in a long hallway. In the hall, a number of candles were burning in alcoves. Scrawled upon the ceiling was a sentence, "Take this kiss upon the brow." They could see that the writing continued further down the hall, so they proceeded farther into the hallway to read it. "And, in parting from you now" was followed by "Thus much let me avow." And then "You are not wrong, who deem." Then "That my days have been a dream." As they read this final line, they head a loud click as a massive boulder rolled into their path, ready to crush them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We'll find out how they get out of this one next time.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-66284398971752002772024-01-21T21:33:00.000-05:002024-01-21T21:33:49.247-05:00Not Good For Maidens<p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTLS-2fW9OyXS3L9ScfRg-ZXn5uAwRD4EwjB7JErYVqI6W_Rdotfrf35sdDZcLpH3aKFooofrXycf-hDCB2lyOXW-rooQ5KjOfd4HUazf96i09EjWTiU8EbAfrlp0TlKq5T7fwmoR8K4lv1SJdCIB3w_qyEOrUNLK0SDDjGdhnNU4xUSS1QBGok83Z/s2475/58724694.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2475" data-original-width="1650" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTLS-2fW9OyXS3L9ScfRg-ZXn5uAwRD4EwjB7JErYVqI6W_Rdotfrf35sdDZcLpH3aKFooofrXycf-hDCB2lyOXW-rooQ5KjOfd4HUazf96i09EjWTiU8EbAfrlp0TlKq5T7fwmoR8K4lv1SJdCIB3w_qyEOrUNLK0SDDjGdhnNU4xUSS1QBGok83Z/s320/58724694.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Tori Bovalino's <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> is a riff on Christina Rossetti's <i>Goblin Market</i>. In <i>Not Good For Maidens</i>, a young woman from a bloodline of witches is faced with the daunting task of venturing into the goblin market in search of her beloved aunt who may have fallen prey to the goblins' enticements. Running parallel to that story is the tale of a <i>different</i> aunt's tragic involvement with the goblin market in the past. Overall, <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> is a decent read, particularly for younger readers, but I do think it could have gone much harder, especially given the rich context of Rossetti's poem. </span>The problem with <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> is that living up to the promise and power of Rossetti's poem is not a task many modern authors are really equipped to tackle. The best thing this novel can do is lead young readers to Rossetti's poetry.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As a riff on a classic Victorian poem, <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> is not the book I think it should be, which may well be an unfair criticism, but I think comparison between the novel and Rossetti's poem is inevitable given the context. To my mind, Christina Rossetti's <i>Goblin Market </i>is a poem of seductive horrors. In contrast, Bovalino's novel is planted too firmly in the young adult "urban fantasy" mode, and any seduction is in short supply within its pages. Though there is horrific content in it, <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> soft-pedals where it should attempt to disturb and challenge the reader. The form of the novel also detracts from its themes; the prose needs to be more seductive, artful, and brimming with monstrous excess, and the words need to carry more sexual threat. Without that, <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> feels pale and fainting in comparison to the strenuous ardor of Rossetti's poem.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Case in point, the protagonist is notably asexual, so the potential to do something interesting by juxtaposing the goblin market's enticements against her lack of desire certainly exists--but that element isn't explored in any depth. Similarly, the protagonist's strange, semi-sensual fixation on her aunt doesn't reach the fevered pitch of the powerful and unnameable force of sisterly love in Rossetti's work.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I also question the author's word choice at various points. Too often, the protagonist is "scampering" away in terror. Scampering? That's like saying someone frolicked in dread.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I know that a considered focus on world-building is often a great curse upon all nations, but the world-building in <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> would benefit from narrative clarification or revision because I'm not sure it makes sense. The goblin market seems to be a known quantity (even the British government is aware of it and when people re-emerge from the market with strange injuries and bearing stranger curses, people know to take its victims to a group of witches in York that can help them), but the American protagonist has somehow never heard of it? Despite the fact that <b>her family members are the witches who help people recover from goblin wounds in York</b>?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The way the goblin market and its denizens are portrayed feels unreal, as opposed to fantastical or even dream-like, which works against the book's themes, its characterization, and its coherency. If the goblin market were real and known, there would be YouTubers and TikTokers making crass videos about it. But in the fictive world the novel presents, knowledge of market's existence is vague and often feels like it comes into focus only at the narrative's convenience, making the stakes of <i>Not Good For Maidens</i> feel flimsy and inconsequential as a result.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-35659193993210941122024-01-16T22:18:00.000-05:002024-01-16T22:18:22.639-05:00PLANET MOTHERFUCKER NOW ON DRIVETHRURPG<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhIQ4IkXOKvqXSrCVboM4NE8T1Hw6NfLabsGc7Mh7qRvEXj7RV755WZvxuI4Tv2O8Q-8Akbo78zDD2y0f5lsbxNzpRkVjryqsuyV4u8ryEV5lSGy84f2nBgA2cB8LZIpEETF8-XbSnWhxUuaGiBdqMvF4FgtSyLShi-gCGCckPXsJw_ekXNNkb7Sdsa0/s648/PMF%20COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhIQ4IkXOKvqXSrCVboM4NE8T1Hw6NfLabsGc7Mh7qRvEXj7RV755WZvxuI4Tv2O8Q-8Akbo78zDD2y0f5lsbxNzpRkVjryqsuyV4u8ryEV5lSGy84f2nBgA2cB8LZIpEETF8-XbSnWhxUuaGiBdqMvF4FgtSyLShi-gCGCckPXsJw_ekXNNkb7Sdsa0/s320/PMF%20COVER.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">By popular demand, <a href="https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/467542/PLANET-MOTHERFUCKER"><b>the latest version of PLANET MOTHERFUCKER is now available on Drivethrurpg</b></a>!</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Note: <b>YOU WILL NEED TO HAVE "SHOW ADULT CONTENT" CHECKED TO SEE IT BECAUSE THIS SHIT HAS CONTENT ALL RIGHT.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If you previously bought the zine and would like this pdf version added to your Drivethru account, drop me a line and I'll hook you up.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">More news: <b>PLANET MOTHERFUCKER </b>will be getting three supplements in 2024. They're already written, baby. Expect new character classes, lots more monsters and bad guys, adventure seeds, and more questionable humor than you can stand. This shit is for the sickos, so watch this space.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Of course, what that means is that you want to buy the main <b>PLANET MOTHERFUCKER</b> pdf right now so you're all oiled up and juicy for when the add-ons drop.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-35654266783934642462024-01-14T22:10:00.001-05:002024-01-14T22:10:40.621-05:00Feasts and Fish Masks<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDjrVcR8UH-TwUIotOWwLxcFPvPuh1Wi6PyqfngXXUj6XAhQVIaCx9WPSdYGXefpn9FKXGI0nJIH2lTufJjWaloxjclJ6qDqtVDOi9FXWdwRkxjnfvDDyYkEf3DI6rlh3OLdlfA2IsPmf_AMYJerYCpgnFmyPj7xN_X8lAshTI8xToyLudaUdyDqfTd0/s3010/melanie-arouk-r_m64ldrJ5k-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3010" data-original-width="1920" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDjrVcR8UH-TwUIotOWwLxcFPvPuh1Wi6PyqfngXXUj6XAhQVIaCx9WPSdYGXefpn9FKXGI0nJIH2lTufJjWaloxjclJ6qDqtVDOi9FXWdwRkxjnfvDDyYkEf3DI6rlh3OLdlfA2IsPmf_AMYJerYCpgnFmyPj7xN_X8lAshTI8xToyLudaUdyDqfTd0/s320/melanie-arouk-r_m64ldrJ5k-unsplash.jpg" width="204" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">The characters in the Savage Krevborna again explored another level of the Necropolis of Omera. Here's what went down.</span><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pendleton Torst, rogue anatomist</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina Redmoor, prioress of an unusual convent</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd, dissolute swashbuckler </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Panthalassa Laurentide, a very weird orphan</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul Carathis, necromancer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona Midnight, dhampir gunslinger</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Asudem, a drowned antiquarian brought back from the dead</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Events</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The first thing that the party noticed is that the third level of the Necropolis was infested with fleshy, alien growths on the walls and ceilings of its corridors and chambers. In one chamber they found a fifteen foot pit with a stained glass statue standing over a small iron chest. To either side of the pit were statues of Scylla and the Chained Scholar. Geradd climbed down into the pit to examine the chest, but the glass statue animated and attacked him. Luckily, his compatriots were able to shoot the statue to pieces before it could harm Geradd. Inside the chest was a key and two glass lizard eyes.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As they explored further, they found two of the degenerate dwarves laying dead on a flight of stairs. Pendleton could tell that the dwarves had been exsanguinated. Following the murderer's bloody footprints brought them to a balcony overlooking a vast chasm. On the other side of the chasm was another balcony with a statue of an eldritch monstrosity standing upon it. Floating within the space of the chasm were five floating wooden disks. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Eschewing the disks, Daytona cast <i>wall walker</i> on himself and traversed the chasm without recourse to the floating disks; he brought a rope, hoping to tie it off to allow the other to cross. However, when Daytona was about halfway across the chasm, Geradd pulled a lever on their balcony, which caused the chamber to fill with a violent wind and the sounds of howling beasts and grinding machinery. The lever also caused the statue's hand to unclench, revealing two more glass lizard eyes. Daytona's clone appeared on the opposing balcony and began to shoot at the original; Daytona high-tailed it back to safety as his clone retreated. The group opted to send Annabelle, Raoul's familiar, across the chasm to retrieve the glass eyes. They then retraced their steps to explore another in another direction.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They found a metal door with a bronze disk in the center of it. Along the perimeter of the disk were ten circular indentations. They placed the four glass eyes they had into the indentations, which caused a bronze eyelid to close over each glass eye. Six glass eyes remained to be placed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In another chamber they obtained a gilded human skull. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Speaking of skulls, beyond a door carved with leering skulls they found three tapestries. The first tapestry showed nobles feasting and drinking. In the second, the same nobles were fighting each other, fucking on the table, and vomiting in the feasting hall. In the third tapestry, the nobles were shown to be feasting on their servants while the roasted boar laughed at the spectacle. The group then heard the stomping approaching of something with hooves. A towering boarman appeared in the doorway, covered in blood, an apple in its mouth, and bearing an axe. After spitting out the apple, it announced that the Lord of the Feast had arrived. Raoul summoned a grave guardian, but the Lord of the Feast cut it down with his axe. Geradd dealt the creature a horrific blow with his glaive, slaying it; Geradd had split the creature's belly open and golden cups, cutlery, and jewelry began to pour out of the wound.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In another burial chamber, the group found a shrine devoted to Scylla, a magically warded sarcophagus, and a number of frescos that held clues on how to safely open the sarcophagus. Catarina figured things out quickly, and made the appropriate offerings to her "goddess." Which each completed step of the ritual, the group could hear the crashing of waves on a shore and smell the scent of the briny deep. Upon completing the ritual offerings, the sarcophagus's lid slid off. Inside was a set of leather bracers decorated with delicate fish bones. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd, Raoul, and Pendleton had all donned fish masks they had found in the chamber during the ritual. When the ritual was complete and they removed the masks, they discovered that their faces had been transformed into piscine visages and that their necks now sported functional gills. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>As they traveled the corridors of the Necropolis's third level, they encountered the corpse golems that Catarina had scryed from the prior level. Daytona shot one, but Geradd charged them and single-handedly destroyed them. Further in the Necropolis they found a portal within a large carving of a wolf's mouth. Looking into the portal gave them a vision of an explorer in a chamber stepping on a rune that caused the room to fill with poisonous spoors that killed him. </span>The group later found the room from the vision. Raoul was able to use a summoned zombie to avoid the symbols on the floor and open the sarcophagus in the chamber. Inside were two more glass lizard eyes and a spiral horn.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At this point, the group became nervous about the whereabouts of the false Daytona. Catarina proposed that Daytona cut himself with one of her bone daggers so that she could psychically communicate with both the real Daytona and his replicant. The false Daytona communicated that he had received an invitation to visit "three pretty ladies on the fifth floor." The group realized that he was now en route to visit with Dorian Margrave's three wives--a confluence that could not bode well for them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It was decided that they needed to hustle down to the next floor in pursuit. They located an elevator and took it down to the fourth level of the Necropolis. However, as it neared its stopping point, they could see that the elevator shaft was filled with the walking dead. The elevator crushed the milling undead as it settled into place, causes a flood of blood and gore to come up through the grate in the bottom of the elevator. With bloody feet, they now entered the next level within the Necropolis of Omera.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-38053116622623218992024-01-10T22:40:00.000-05:002024-01-10T22:40:18.777-05:00Mad About D&D<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRPhdKEHFkukaUKPJt0j4WUpcOri1JIU_qzongp-kIOJbBIjWlE6PyyJrYSWdlk5r_SbiAFLyH6eSKUA5J3f6EnUbtVtXI7IoHBVb9qTVIc_vV1okaihWQD19_XZ3KgtYHMZHYF-pdDMonH96gblSiauba78fsicxVrZuBO1we0az7DuvKjrJhf1Y/s1125/FH1uy2PXoAIBXBO.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="558" data-original-width="1125" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRPhdKEHFkukaUKPJt0j4WUpcOri1JIU_qzongp-kIOJbBIjWlE6PyyJrYSWdlk5r_SbiAFLyH6eSKUA5J3f6EnUbtVtXI7IoHBVb9qTVIc_vV1okaihWQD19_XZ3KgtYHMZHYF-pdDMonH96gblSiauba78fsicxVrZuBO1we0az7DuvKjrJhf1Y/w640-h317/FH1uy2PXoAIBXBO.png" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">There are plenty of valid reasons to dislike <i>D&D</i> as a game or to avoid Wizards of the Coast as a company. I haven't played D&D in over a year at this point. And yet, <i>D&D</i> seems to have a special quality (its <b>popularity</b>, most likely) that makes some people go insane. It makes them lie, to others and to themselves.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">For example, have you noticed that the British guys who complain the loudest about WotC's "corporate stranglehold" all seem to be drowning in Games Workshop plastic miniatures? Look inward.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">As another example, it's funny how some indie rpg people are constantly banging the "<i>D&D</i> is crowding out all other games" drum when there are demonstrably more indie games now than in any other point in the hobby and it's never been easier to distribute and/or get paid for your niche indie game. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>D&D</i> isn't the reason your game isn't a bestseller; it's just that you don't have a bestseller on your hands. The milquetoast fantasy juggernaut isn't keeping your ten-page game about coconut farmers trying to resolve family conflict from widespread success--most people just aren't going to be particularly interested in that premise.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">There's also irony to be found in the "not all games should be based on <i>D&D</i>'s mechanics" perspective, even though it's one I largely agree with, because a lot of the people who hold that view seem to have no problem with everything being either <i>Powered by the Apocalypse</i> or <i>Forged in the Dark</i> based. (It used to be <i>Fate</i> that filled that role, but no one cares about <i>Fate</i> anymore.) On the trad side of things, the Year Zero Engine seems to currently occupy a similar "this system could and should do everything" space.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have a theory: the most unhinged <i>D&D</i> hate actually funnels people <b>to</b> <i>D&D</i> because regular gamers see that stuff and want to go over to where people seem more normal and less "I'm frothing mad about a game I don't even play." </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Touching grass is always an option, of course.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-64282559583382227322024-01-07T22:10:00.001-05:002024-01-07T22:10:48.896-05:00The Evil Twin<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkWLMgC59IhoGIR_HHrLewVwaAGiWxoEtcr-6QLFmG_ffk0woqL6YO7iz11sJfoMdtPzsxtliBi84S8gnDWsy0OF-pky-ImafXFVSagaldoM7wGCwV4LRMCbIphCNKci6mJ9ednvRgmk2l5nhYoJjO-YkYzwBe3unsZxT_AZl4bRWQcy4t8n8Ig897cQ/s1920/iswanto-arif-KXtMGheovdw-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="1920" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkWLMgC59IhoGIR_HHrLewVwaAGiWxoEtcr-6QLFmG_ffk0woqL6YO7iz11sJfoMdtPzsxtliBi84S8gnDWsy0OF-pky-ImafXFVSagaldoM7wGCwV4LRMCbIphCNKci6mJ9ednvRgmk2l5nhYoJjO-YkYzwBe3unsZxT_AZl4bRWQcy4t8n8Ig897cQ/s320/iswanto-arif-KXtMGheovdw-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">We're back, having logged our first Savage Krevborna game for 2024. The characters are still within the Necropolis of Omera, still in search of the fabled Brineblade. In this session they fully explored the second level of the dungeon.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pendleton Torst, rogue anatomist</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina Redmoor, prioress of an unusual convent</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd, dissolute swashbuckler </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Panthalassa Laurentide, a very weird orphan</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Raoul Carathis, necromancer</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona Midnight, dhampir gunslinger</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Asudem, a drowned antiquarian brought back from the dead</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Events</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">One of the first things the group discovered in their exploration of this level of the Necropolis of Omera was a stone font filled with a silvery fluid. When Catarina gazed into it, she found herself apparently looking through someone else's eyes at a massive corpse golem, clad in a knight's helmet and holding a fearsome metal bar, set back into a niche. At least now they knew what they might be up against later.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The also found the fresh corpse of a man in robes who had let go of a staff topped with a bronze lizard's head as he died. Pendleton examined the corpse and determined that he had been hacked to death with axes--they correctly surmised that the degenerate dwarves they had encountered prior had gotten to him. According to the journal they found on him, this man was Harbecker Rohm, a sorcerer who was charged with setting the magical traps meant to keep the foolhardy from setting Dorian Margrave loose from his prison.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The next chamber they explored in detail announced its presence with a stink like spoiled wine before they even reached its door. Speaking of the door, they couldn't fail to notice that there was a large stone block above it that seemed poised to seal off the chamber should some trigger be sprung. And speaking of triggers, as most of the group dithered over whether they should open the door and risk triggering the stone block, Geradd got a running start and shouldered the door aside--to no ill effect. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Inside, a single ray of light shown down from the ceiling onto a gilded sarcophagus. The walls were decorated with stone dragon heads, which were determined to be the source of the vinegar-y wine smell. Raoul discovered that one of the dragon heads could be removed from the wall, and he and Geradd took it off to see what lay beyond. It had been covering a crawlspace; Geradd and Daytona entered it, but eventually they decided to send Raoul's familiar Annabelle to scout ahead.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Annabelle reported that there was a huge drum of wine within the crawlspace attached to a mechanism that could dump it into the room--potentially flooding the chamber. The crawlspace ended in a chamber where the floor was decorated with an occult symbol drawn in coarse salt. At each of the symbol's five points was a "object" of magical significance: the shell of a monstrous undersea creature, a patch of livid purple and pink mushrooms, a statuette of a fanged worm rearing up, a book with coiled chains, and a fossil of an ancient “lizard” head. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Making note of occult chamber's location, they retraced their steps to try another path and found themselves in a room with murals depicting a variety of people impaled upon swords. On the chamber's floor was a bas-relief of a dragon's claw; in the center of the bas-relief was a small shaft leading down into darkness. Since he can see in low-light conditions, Daytona peered down into the murk. Daytona saw a bubbling stone font of green slime positioned beneath the hole. A shadowy figured had its back to font; there was something about the mysterious person that unnerved Daytona. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It was determined that Pendleton would toss a bomb down into the hole. When the bomb went off, Daytona was inexplicable thrown against the wall as if he had been in the blast; he was wounded as if he had been in the radius of the explosion. Pendleton yelled down into the hole to see if the mysterious figure was still down there and got shot at for his troubles. The voice that came up from below sounded exactly like Daytona's. The figure left the room below; unsure how to proceed, they continued their exploration of the second level of the Necropolis.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They knew they were entering a strange section of the Necropolis when they passed through a hallway in which three zombies were chained to the wall, their mouths champing around metal bits. The tomb beyond had a chariot bearing a sarcophagus, statues of drakoi knights, and six purple glass cauldrons filled to the brim with human bones. Nothing happened when Panthalassa demolished a statue, but when the sarcophagus was opened, skeletal warriors began to crawl out of the cauldrons. Some of the characters, particularly Daytona, Catarina, and Asudem who were armed with guns, took out the cauldrons so that skeletons would not continue to be spawned from them, while the others took down their undead attackers. Once the dust settled, they collected their spoils from the sarcophagus: an amulet that warded against plague, three golden cups, a torq, and a shield bearing the legend "Unbroken."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the final chamber on this floor, the party encountered a lich wearing a laughing "comedy" mask who was working away in his study while a number of severed hands scampered across the desk and floor. He introduced himself as Witherstock, and told them that he had been elected to stay within the Necropolis to maintain the binding magic that kept Dorian Margrave trapped within the tomb complex. He did not fancy their chances against Dorian, but he was able to tell them the following:</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: large;">Dorian could be found on the sixth and final level of the Necropolis</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">The shadowy figure they had tried to explode was a magical construct that took on the identity of whoever was first to look upon it; this meant that somewhere on the floor below was an angry copy of Daytona</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">The Necropolis existed well before Dorian Margrave was trapped within with his wives and lieutenants </span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">The skull in the jar they had been carrying around belonged to the daughter of Harbecker Rohm</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">Rosaria has no great loyalty to Dorian, but Laoirshe is fanatically loyal to their husband; Thomasina, the youngest wife, is under Laoirshe's sway</span></li></ul><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After bidding Witherstock adieu, they descended the stairs where they opened a chamber emblazoned with graffiti that read "What are saints but heralds deceived?" Beyond the door was a corpse golem; when the golem removed its helm, it revealed a hideously asymmetrical visage that sent Pendleton into a spiral of fear. However, the golem was destroyed...but what had it been guarding? We'll find out next time, of course.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-10735226889344132572024-01-02T22:22:00.000-05:002024-01-02T22:22:13.806-05:00The Dream of the Burgundy House<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmugAcA2re_k6Y50V6bpD3dc8XduydXSKF7FULwXbSAxHmJTD3FJyQheFR91gvKHMrCbtBlKI0Ea4bTRz19wwGesTygmxpURXUHyDRutwm9-svvPKIZHox7wnufIdsZ8bJkt83sHHVTJb_HfSV06qfRxZnj4v4yMUrhPnQetlleXQKgpUwv5CmPvCPitQ/s1920/jr-korpa-bbpiuqvngO0-unsplash.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmugAcA2re_k6Y50V6bpD3dc8XduydXSKF7FULwXbSAxHmJTD3FJyQheFR91gvKHMrCbtBlKI0Ea4bTRz19wwGesTygmxpURXUHyDRutwm9-svvPKIZHox7wnufIdsZ8bJkt83sHHVTJb_HfSV06qfRxZnj4v4yMUrhPnQetlleXQKgpUwv5CmPvCPitQ/s320/jr-korpa-bbpiuqvngO0-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">For the last game in the Savage Krevborna campaign for 2023, I found myself in a situation where a good number of people wanted to play, but a mainstay player couldn't make it due to holiday commitments. Since the group had just battled a bunch of golem-making dwarves and were injured, my solution was to have the characters of the players who could make it take part in a shared dream when they holed up in the lab. This actually proved to be a good move on my part as it allowed me to seed information about the necropolis they're exploring so when we return to it in 2024 the party will be better armed with intel about the location.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Characters</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pendleton Torst, rogue anatomist</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Catarina Redmoor, prioress of an unusual convent</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Geradd, dissolute swashbuckler </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Panthalassa Laurentide, a very weird orphan</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Daytona Midnight, dhampir gunslinger</span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Events</span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As their shared dream began, the sleeping members of the party found themselves in a room with burgundy brick walls. On the wall was a shield emblazoned with a coat of arms: a dragon on an azure field. Alongside the shield were a couple portraits done in oils that showed people so consumed by their sins that they were in the process of transforming into degenerate, dragon-like creatures known as drakoi. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As they moved through this mysterious house, the group noticed that several of the rooms held landscape paintings that featured uncanny movement of the painted figured within. One forest scene featured lascivious satyrs chasing nymphs along the trees. Another landscape showed ambulatory rotting corpses. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In a bedroom, the party stumbled upon a woman who had her back turned to them as she braided her hair. When she turned around, they found her to be a blonde woman of middling height, dressed as a noblewoman of a bygone era. Her body and face were adorned with blue woad paint, indicating that she hailed from one of the barbaric tribes of the deep forests. They also saw that her teeth had been filed to sharp points.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The woman introduced herself as Lady Laoirse, the first wife of Lord Dorian Margrave, also known as the King Who Craves and the Lord of the Five Blades. Lady Laoirse was clearly sizing them up to determine whether they were guests or interlopers. She was also remarkably free with information; the group learned the following </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">from Lady Laoirse</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">:</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: large;">She confirmed that they were all sharing a dream. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">She also added that she was undead and sharing the dream with them as well. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">She believed that they were all sharing a dream because they slumbered within the Necropolis, which was suffused with eldritch power.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">She informed them of the existence of two other wives of Dorian Margrave within the dream; the others two wives were currently in the house's attic. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">When they told her that they wanted the Brineblade, she intimated that her husband would not give it up without a fight.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">However, she also told them that Dorian Margrave didn't dream--and hence he was not in the Burgundy House.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">Additionally, she informed them that the Necropolis was designed as a prison for Dorian Margrave so that he could not fully use the five magic swords he had collected. </span></li></ul><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once they ascended into the attic, the found another woman, this one chestnut-haired and wearing a small fortune in jewelry, in a bedroom. As they entered, she was working away with a quill at a writing desk. She introduced herself as Rosaria Margrave, and several members of the party noticed that she bore a striking resemblance to Belle Silvra. She was more reserved than Lady Laoirse, but she definitely warmed up to the party when she was informed that in the current era the cult of Scylla had managed to take Lachryma as a bastion of the faith. She even kissed Catarina on the cheek and embraced her as a sister of the cult. She also gave Catarina her manuscript in progress--a shockingly erotic and lurid novel about a monk who seduces his novitiate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">From Rosaria, the party learned the following:</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: large;">She was Dorian Margrave's second wife--though she did not marry him out of love, as Lady Laoirse had.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">She was married to Dorian Margrave to seal an alliance between him and the cult of Scylla, in return for their help getting the Brineblade into his hands.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">She mentioned that her maiden name was Levon. (The characters made a note to see if Belle Silvra had any ancestors bearing that name.)</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">She also told them that Dorian's third wife, Thomasina, might be insane--perhaps dangerously so.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">Lastly, she told them that if they wanted to challenge Lord Dorian, they were in for a very difficult fight; he can wield all five of his swords at once without even touching them.</span></li></ul><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Rosaria also took them to a secret staircase that led into the house's basement. Down in the depths they could hear the ominous sound of six voices chanting different words, forming a cacophony of sound. As they explored the chambers where Lord Dorian's bandit army had bunked down, they found a barracks with its own well. When Panthalassa pulled the bucket out of the well, the group were horrified to see that there was a dead, rotting hand attached to it. Feeling the need to experiment, Catarina cut herself and let her blood drip into the well, which attracted the attention of a flesh-hungry undead creature at the bottom of the well. The party debated whether they should haul the creature up, but ultimately decided to press on with their explorations. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They found a reliquary, which they raided, and a skeletal corpse next to a portcullis. In the pocket of the corpse's decaying garments was a letter that read:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Tanitha, </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>You utter fool. You and your fellow cultists believed that we worked at a common cause–to summon the avatars of the elder gods and let them reign over the Earth–but what man of will would not make those “gods” his servants if the chance presented itself?. I am not bound to the darkness as you are, I am the darkness made flesh. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>I look forward to staining my hand with your blood, </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Dorian Margrave</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The group lifted the portcullis and waded into the water beyond. In the center of the water, which only got deeper the further out they traveled, was a large black rock, not unlike an island. Six figures stood on the rock, each of them emitting an eerie spectral glow. The figures included:</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: large;">A man wearing rotting robes, half his face covered in fungal growths</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">A man dressed as a ship's captain, his features strangely fish-like</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">A woman of short stature with leathery skin</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">A primitive man in furs with a necklace of teeth and animal bones</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">A woman in a hooded robe with manacles dangling from her wrists</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">A blonde man clad in Church of the Holy Blood vestments</span></li></ul><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The six figures were looking at six corpses that lay at their feet. Panthalassa approached the captain, who introduced himself as Captain Vergus. In their brief conversation, Captain Vergus suggested that the party destroy the Brineblade should they be able to wrest it from Dorian Margrave. When asked how they might awake from the dream, he unsheathed his cutlass and slew Pendleton, whose body gently faded from view. Geradd was next. One by one, the party died--some by each other's hands--and awoke. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Everything they had taken from the dream was with them in the waking world. </span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-28063163946258884562023-12-31T22:34:00.000-05:002023-12-31T22:34:46.041-05:00Summer Sons, Hobo With a Shotgun, Spawn, and More<p><span style="font-size: large;">Things that brought me delight in December, 2023:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPT1wIx_J5tFvr04pbP8OAyzCTblUc9gg1peCJhCKp8sAFCkN7otDdTAEbT11OCUW9S6iw6I7U8RH-ZftpezJJCV7ll0V3a41FvqRoHR1pb-GybesSyGsug3NoGgNjQ9tcnYOKHkCPfx87aeBe7U-X_oDDbP9niXUj4bEc6ITQFRu7hFLwLfxKn1eF8lw/s1536/53290204.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPT1wIx_J5tFvr04pbP8OAyzCTblUc9gg1peCJhCKp8sAFCkN7otDdTAEbT11OCUW9S6iw6I7U8RH-ZftpezJJCV7ll0V3a41FvqRoHR1pb-GybesSyGsug3NoGgNjQ9tcnYOKHkCPfx87aeBe7U-X_oDDbP9niXUj4bEc6ITQFRu7hFLwLfxKn1eF8lw/s320/53290204.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Lee Mandelo, <i>Summer Sons</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Summer Sons</i> is a strange mix of contradictory and unlikely inspirations that don't quite meld together into a seamless whole: portions of the novel feel like "dark academia" for grown-ups, there are many sequences of shit-kickin' country boys drag racing, and a Southern Gothic ghost tale looms everywhere in the background, unable to make itself fully heard over the roar of the high-toned engines.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Andrew Blur has inherited a lot from his best friend-slash-brother after his apparent suicide: a graduate research project on ghostly Southern folklore, a new set of wild and potentially dangerous friends, a crushing sense of loneliness, and a self-imposed duty to discover why and how his friend actually died.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The academic bits felt the most off and nebulously rendered to me; perhaps due to my own experiences, I have an unduly difficult time imagining mentors and professors responding to messages near-instantaneously. Even so, the descriptions of the usual academic issues with thesis committees, plagiarism, and the petty clash of egos were enough to tap into some deep-seated anxieties of my own, so perhaps that element does work in the context of a horror novel. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Things do come together into a satisfying conclusion by the end of things, even if the villains in this whodunit were obvious and the protagonist could have saved himself a lot of grief by being honest with himself much earlier in life. Though Lee Mandelo's <i>Summer Sons</i> isn't a perfect novel, it is a really impressive debut and a worthy addition to the rise of the Queer Gothic.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1S62uFeWdS3CU1M7i3u697XFLiXyRrSyLlysK8y8LrVm3Qoa6kCrjeeEgKUDTKPk6cRgz9sUR4cd8lsQiJSs3dh0VHfohfo-4-iToUJA7VBUOZUspEJviU_HgCqWTTHMVo-0FiuefFp8EnaR6tsy5tdNsELeQe9chIazNWhWzt-W4wwo05FGBhiARUSY/s1440/p8517103_p_v8_ae.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1S62uFeWdS3CU1M7i3u697XFLiXyRrSyLlysK8y8LrVm3Qoa6kCrjeeEgKUDTKPk6cRgz9sUR4cd8lsQiJSs3dh0VHfohfo-4-iToUJA7VBUOZUspEJviU_HgCqWTTHMVo-0FiuefFp8EnaR6tsy5tdNsELeQe9chIazNWhWzt-W4wwo05FGBhiARUSY/s320/p8517103_p_v8_ae.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Hobo With a Shotgun</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When <i>Grindhouse</i> released, sandwiched between the two segments were a number of fake movie trailers. Over time, some of those fake trailers have manifested as actual movies--<i>Hobo With a Shotgun</i> was one of them, and it is a wild psychotronic ride. You can guess how it goes: a hobo arrives in a broken-down town ruled by an autocrat and his power-mad, dumb-dumb sons. Said hobo gets pushed around, until he's had too much and acquires a shotgun. And then the fun really begins. Gleefully violent and over-the-top in its approach to everything that gets thrown onto the screen, <i>Hobo With a Shotgun</i> gives you both barrels at point-blank range. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_uj8Q0bVk3x0z7WB1ZI1GXQIe4son5IT3RNbXSeyVygU97eo-ymb_aVUqRCRV-xEXY8R77yKRAqjJ3FZGZtgESHNMQ368VWCyHylT46G5H7zuo44Ag-6DeMvbTRdKSIfXxa8-CXSWc9Ywd_E-iUZ_DgCf-8Kohh5H9rWM56uzCiOI2AZVQgex0dJCyo/s1000/71XPDOhjqsL._AC_UF1000,1000_QL80_.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="650" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_uj8Q0bVk3x0z7WB1ZI1GXQIe4son5IT3RNbXSeyVygU97eo-ymb_aVUqRCRV-xEXY8R77yKRAqjJ3FZGZtgESHNMQ368VWCyHylT46G5H7zuo44Ag-6DeMvbTRdKSIfXxa8-CXSWc9Ywd_E-iUZ_DgCf-8Kohh5H9rWM56uzCiOI2AZVQgex0dJCyo/s320/71XPDOhjqsL._AC_UF1000,1000_QL80_.jpg" width="208" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Spawn Compendium 1</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We covered the first eighteen issues of Todd McFarlane's <i>Spawn</i> <a href="https://badbooksbadpeople.com/episodes/episode-72-spawn-welcome-to-90s-hell">on the podcast</a>, but once the assigned tour of duty was over I just kept trucking through this madness. Does <i>Spawn</i> eventually chill out and fall into a dependable groove of rich, layered storytelling in comics form? Not on your life, bud. It's crazytown all the way down. If you keep reading past what we covered on the podcast, you will get Spawn being mistaken for Santa in a Christmas-themed issue, Spawn being so dumb that he goes along with the murderous plan of a guy who is clearly McFarlane's Joker analog, and Spawn being lynched by the KKK. Yeah, you read that right; that is a thing that happens in this wild-ass comic.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPqTR9uD79J-5r_jr7HCvmU4-D06FV-d0RvFj7OAN5mT6OQc0amStQqkUEoQ4PgfEIlTNPcv3EhE9R2N7K2ueODF-KnUv1HsQvF3C6n86rDlPwZDNGHcdTGETOvNhYF1TkYLOUKvwDEyM_h5aDy8A_zkFEvd_LOq-7n7if9cZaBkW3UQXBr9KhIoGw-8/s2100/Phantasm.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPqTR9uD79J-5r_jr7HCvmU4-D06FV-d0RvFj7OAN5mT6OQc0amStQqkUEoQ4PgfEIlTNPcv3EhE9R2N7K2ueODF-KnUv1HsQvF3C6n86rDlPwZDNGHcdTGETOvNhYF1TkYLOUKvwDEyM_h5aDy8A_zkFEvd_LOq-7n7if9cZaBkW3UQXBr9KhIoGw-8/s320/Phantasm.jpeg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Batman: Mask of the Phantasm</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I was working in a video store when <i>Mask of the Phantasm</i> came out and it was a super popular rental, and yet, somehow I never watched it until just recently. It definitely lives up to the hype; it's superb, easily one of best Batman movies ever made despite being a cartoon. The art is phenomenal (even if the blu ray transfer could have used a little love) and the soundtrack is intense. Really fun set of villains working at cross purposes too. I'm pretty stoked to watch <i>Batman: The Animated Series</i>, which I also haven't really seen despite its glowing reputation, just off the back of how much I enjoyed <i>Mask of the Phantasm </i>alone.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWPFisonpkVTNiUCtd4e-8aR2_Vsx8fsJOeAsNMG_pGopnlG_DhI6RQ6jKPukQtfgSMnlM0MUFhp_-jahnGBgkzzdrhzK7cZB1vz66B0P1uNeMJfCKvzTmFpiiqv4LzyunsPHdH1tDS_Y8TMJuuc3S_Uj4NsqSuSKv7qV-xH5D845NDUGave8OE5LwEbA/s2880/p8660_v_v13_ai.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWPFisonpkVTNiUCtd4e-8aR2_Vsx8fsJOeAsNMG_pGopnlG_DhI6RQ6jKPukQtfgSMnlM0MUFhp_-jahnGBgkzzdrhzK7cZB1vz66B0P1uNeMJfCKvzTmFpiiqv4LzyunsPHdH1tDS_Y8TMJuuc3S_Uj4NsqSuSKv7qV-xH5D845NDUGave8OE5LwEbA/s320/p8660_v_v13_ai.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Gremlins</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Watching <i>Gremlins</i> was part of my program for "getting in the holiday spirit" this year. I'm pretty sure I haven't seen <i>Gremlins</i> since the 80s, but it is insane how much of this movie I remember. And, to be honest, I still think it rules as much as when I was a kid. It goes really hard for a PG movie meant for families with children, but that was the way of things back then; Phoebe Cate's character's revelation about he dad dying after getting stuck in the chimney playing at Santa, the mom's anti-Gremlin killing spree in the kitchen like she just got back from 'Nam, and the persistent 80s anxieties about "foreigners" are wild--you wouldn't get anything with that much texture for this demographic now. And the special effects are gorier and grosser that you might expect if you haven't seen it in a while, provided you weren't traumatized by it as a kid.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcpxMfX54-3a9drjQwynYdCEbdr4MvazQl-nlTzcnjRmb4WzpJYZ2RxRM56kjs8BkL6a9PmeLwRnUCKsa4RxVJNXignZNJiKlAf0D-uUjuZKvZ4UmCbIOfj76ErBOFjRDyOBgkiCrYtuX-FQ5sUBfprO3I78NmsbqIc2xE7cvSg81g39ilLFsr_nUmEbs/s2560/b554be87-3a6d-4194-bb03-d46a3d9c925b.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="2011" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcpxMfX54-3a9drjQwynYdCEbdr4MvazQl-nlTzcnjRmb4WzpJYZ2RxRM56kjs8BkL6a9PmeLwRnUCKsa4RxVJNXignZNJiKlAf0D-uUjuZKvZ4UmCbIOfj76ErBOFjRDyOBgkiCrYtuX-FQ5sUBfprO3I78NmsbqIc2xE7cvSg81g39ilLFsr_nUmEbs/s320/b554be87-3a6d-4194-bb03-d46a3d9c925b.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mike Hutchinson, <i>Gaslands Refueled</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">In December, I found a box of my old Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars in my mother's garage. By most rubrics, we could call them "well-loved," but if we're honest they are rusty, beat-up, and missing wheels in some cases. What to do with them? No better time to get into <i>Gaslands Refuelled</i> and give these things one last lap around the track. I'm late to the <i>Gaslands</i> party, but it's a miniature game that uses toy cars to catch the vibe of <i>Fury Road</i> and <i>Twisted Metal</i>. I'll even probably be able to get more mileage out of <i>Gaslands</i> by using it alongside <b>PLANET MOTHERFUCKER</b>.</span></p><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-HH6ABPxUaVhUj9gx9em2soYS5Cy_wKDf-iPZ-4h_n0dma1zXRDm7eHXGkPva1vo_O8StNIdWp6w4zzRY0oOgsgyj4F61yYMlIHBnU5hkmW6QIENr7ENXUuyEGcjj9VBjjLK5kMAxmVegnvOpt7WfXsBFXSst17lAsvnN_i4xFI7rJbudAdSj9zyNYUY/s1000/thanksgiving-poster-new.width-800.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-HH6ABPxUaVhUj9gx9em2soYS5Cy_wKDf-iPZ-4h_n0dma1zXRDm7eHXGkPva1vo_O8StNIdWp6w4zzRY0oOgsgyj4F61yYMlIHBnU5hkmW6QIENr7ENXUuyEGcjj9VBjjLK5kMAxmVegnvOpt7WfXsBFXSst17lAsvnN_i4xFI7rJbudAdSj9zyNYUY/s320/thanksgiving-poster-new.width-800.jpg" width="256" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Thanksgiving</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Like <i>Hobo With a Shotgun,</i> Eli Roth's <i>Thanksgiving</i> started out as one of the fake trailers in the middle of <i>Grindhouse</i> that eventually "graduated" to a full feature film in its own right. If you've seen the trailer in <i>Grindhouse</i>, you'll recognize a few scenes; that said, be forewarned that the horniest and most outrageous bits from the trailer didn't make it into this one. (Maybe we'll be gifted with an unrated director's cut at some point, but I'm not holding my breath.) Even so, there are some inventive kills in this holiday-themed slasher and the opening Black Friday carnage will give anyone who has worked retail PTSD flashbacks. <i>Thanksgiving</i> loses a little steam about halfway through, but it's still way more enjoyable than the last few movies that called themselves<i> Scream</i>, so take that for what it's worth.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4snpWZveIo30Zevc2SQk2UWibm459G1QdCpEzcM1WZe5Xex6VBX1jgDvoAanSQtHQrqtTX6CPZNe3-qOd3sAHmSBme2uaZQZ6mFJybbwe0KJtid_iuq1AFfHk8nsBDlOygi4E72SeSP8FzFqF5gJlSbpgII8oVqVXcc3_QfLnU-L6bDbOUHiuJTlZRA/s1360/71zjqBC-2qL.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="850" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4snpWZveIo30Zevc2SQk2UWibm459G1QdCpEzcM1WZe5Xex6VBX1jgDvoAanSQtHQrqtTX6CPZNe3-qOd3sAHmSBme2uaZQZ6mFJybbwe0KJtid_iuq1AFfHk8nsBDlOygi4E72SeSP8FzFqF5gJlSbpgII8oVqVXcc3_QfLnU-L6bDbOUHiuJTlZRA/s320/71zjqBC-2qL.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>James Skipp Borlase, <i>The Shrieking Skull & Other Victorian Christmas Ghost Stories</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As is tradition, I read a collection of Victorian Christmas ghost tales in December if Valancourt published a book of them the previous year. Unlike previous installments, <i>The Shrieking Skull</i> isn't an anthology; rather, it's a single author collection showcasing the work of John Skipp Borlase. Borlase's fixation on British history, particularly the English Civil War and the religious schisms of yesteryear, color his Christmas ghost tales, giving them a very particular feel. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Borlase also goes extremely hard in some of these stories. For example, what follows is a summary that will spoil the plot of "Twelve Miles Broad," so proceed forewarned. In "Twelve Miles Broad," a young man is spending Christmas Day with the woman he wants to marry and his future father in law at their vineyard in Australia. A tramp shows up, demands to be fed, and is booted from the premises. The tramp curses them out THEN SETS FIRE TO THE BRUSH causing them to need flee for their lives. </span><span>The problem is that there is only one horse and it won't carry all three of them. The father in law solves this problem by producing a pistol and blowing his brains out in front of his daughter. Merry Christmas!</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_WDIcHy8BNJ5ZvUMgSSbhRjg8wmee6rWOD6XQdW-dZKc-PN8ZD5NkIj8YWsugJPfPEODlY96U70lby3mnI2PEhTWH5Fkap-BcyP1XlIvoiChfI0YKg5XAemGlUOBqqNfXe1eUZ1RmDg-NToeEnIgst2lK4q86P0wkRBRfKUqZC1_UJJqMb7zmZfLDEQ/s1600/season-2-of-30-coins-premieres-october-23-v0-wcp2bwbphtpb1.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_WDIcHy8BNJ5ZvUMgSSbhRjg8wmee6rWOD6XQdW-dZKc-PN8ZD5NkIj8YWsugJPfPEODlY96U70lby3mnI2PEhTWH5Fkap-BcyP1XlIvoiChfI0YKg5XAemGlUOBqqNfXe1eUZ1RmDg-NToeEnIgst2lK4q86P0wkRBRfKUqZC1_UJJqMb7zmZfLDEQ/s320/season-2-of-30-coins-premieres-october-23-v0-wcp2bwbphtpb1.jpeg" width="216" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>30 Coins, Season 2</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>It's been a few years since I watched it, but I remember the first season of <i>30 Coins</i> being a really well-done take on Catholic horror. The second season--is unhinged. Everything gets thrown in the blender. A few characters begin this season literally in Hell. Conspiracy theories get introduced into the mix. Lovecraftian elements surface, sometimes with hilarious results. And then the UFO stuff starts happening. All that and it retains the biblical horror of last season. It's a mess, and the final episode doesn't make a ton of sense to me, but the second season of <i>30 Coins</i> was still a fun one to watch.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSTfL4Z6lGV1YiqRp-2IO5_evtnhlZ-pI_pOhmOeLhpCp-sVbO15k8tXZ8uFdidAnUSosC1uCvR6YkauZhU6F2lDnQt_RzyzcC0gTBKfo55qKyioaWPUA4kyef-v3E82UDnPS-UdVTAZf1RXizlnVJYuspL7agvixfKp_9XloFhucT0Xa3IYug9gXy76s/s2091/9780805092431.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2091" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSTfL4Z6lGV1YiqRp-2IO5_evtnhlZ-pI_pOhmOeLhpCp-sVbO15k8tXZ8uFdidAnUSosC1uCvR6YkauZhU6F2lDnQt_RzyzcC0gTBKfo55qKyioaWPUA4kyef-v3E82UDnPS-UdVTAZf1RXizlnVJYuspL7agvixfKp_9XloFhucT0Xa3IYug9gXy76s/s320/9780805092431.jpg" width="214" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Alden Bell, <i>The Reapers Are the Angels</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In general, zombie media has a pessimism issue: the vast majority of books, tv shows, and movies in that mode proceed from the premise that "man is the real monster," and use the inciting incident of a zombie apocalypse to illustrate the inhumanity of man in gory and horrifying terms. This rubs up uncomfortably against how people actually tend to behave during calamities; human beings are herd animals who survive through cooperation, and that bears out in real world behavior even if it is curiously absent in the face of the ravening undead.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Alden Bell's novel <i>The Reapers Are the Angels</i> takes a different tact. We follow Temple, a fifteen year-old girl, as she tries to navigate a dangerous world teeming with hungry zombies. And yet, most of the people Temple meets are pretty nice folk who are out there just trying to get by and are willing to extend a helping hand to others to get them farther down life's road too. Temple gets fed by the fading Southern aristocrats holed up in a plantation house, is invited to stay in a high-rise compound aiming to recapture the ways of the old world, and gets put on her path by groups of hunters and railroad linemen out in the wilds.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Temple herself evidences the same pro-social tendencies. Despite possessing a murderous rage that manifests as relentless zombie-stomping when needed, Temple saves and "adopts" a mentally handicapped man and tries to return him to his home, and when she has the opportunity to leave her nemesis in the novel to die at the hands of mutants, she leaves him armed to give him at least a fighting chance.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I want to say a little about the relationship between Temple and her nemesis, Moses Todd, a powerful survivalist guided by his own peculiar moral compass. Moses Todd is on Temple's trail because she fought off his brother's attempt to assault her--killing him in the process. Even though Moses Todd believes that Temple was in the right to defend herself, he feels duty-bound to avenge his brother's death. He feels the need to pursue her across the wasteland. But they're connected by more just the inciting incident; they have a grudging respect for each other and they're united in both being "travelers," folks who aren't inclined to settle down because that would take away the opportunity to travel the blighted land and see life's remaining wonders.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's this really unintellectualized aestheticism in this novel and a focus on the still transformative sublime power of nature. For example, Temple takes solace in a memory of encountering luminescent fish and several characters trade stories of the power of having seen Niagara Falls in person. In this way, <i>The Reapers Are the Angels</i> brings humanity back to the apocalypse. Although the novel has a heartbreaking end, it somehow manages to be affective and moving in a way that media about...you know, shambling undead monstrosities...doesn't usually aspire to.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEuvZwtWzzfDipkvJP6cXRVw66qtQTHvVbhzDHbsu30k7KhstxeQ7uUJli5Oqg4tk7ryc4pHnzI4YMg5eO5yBSjsdvRfrWn2omCC6KbsU8czyvwzaIT3saAjtSI3_sckv1FLtOdgUQ0DpPu9ovNqKwV29xLA_gFaA3lyeYSSEdlz__TNb9q2elaLcE7A/s1000/therion_leviathan_III_cover.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEuvZwtWzzfDipkvJP6cXRVw66qtQTHvVbhzDHbsu30k7KhstxeQ7uUJli5Oqg4tk7ryc4pHnzI4YMg5eO5yBSjsdvRfrWn2omCC6KbsU8czyvwzaIT3saAjtSI3_sckv1FLtOdgUQ0DpPu9ovNqKwV29xLA_gFaA3lyeYSSEdlz__TNb9q2elaLcE7A/w200-h200/therion_leviathan_III_cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Therion, <i>Leviathan III</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Therion's <i>Leviathan </i>trilogy has been a welcome surprise. Unlike their sprawling and often overwhelming triple-album <i>Beloved Antichrist</i>, each portion of the <i>Leviathan</i> trilogy has felt strong and invigorated; recurring themes emerge, but they aren't tooled to death over the three records in the series. <i>Leviathan III</i> might not hit the highest points of the second installment, but it's certainly no slouch. There are some great symphonic Gothic metal moments on the record--which bodes well for whatever they do next, be it epic or self-contained.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCYy7wdfEIuEML3shexXS_PWk9aRIpg5zCFbEO1D1ccJpVq0ZRgBrKnUODxe7ZBIc74pPWYcbmDOB9RnyuMmBp9Eq5C8bFU1VUvHV4Wf2Ju3DC-Rgj7fpGPTt-HROThke_9nXhDXgA6ZHzFNyYI5oLweFv1b2r6tS2KP8oGozYX4ICWXZsQsZEtMn5cA/s2138/gunbured-c397-sisters-volume-1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2138" data-original-width="1500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCYy7wdfEIuEML3shexXS_PWk9aRIpg5zCFbEO1D1ccJpVq0ZRgBrKnUODxe7ZBIc74pPWYcbmDOB9RnyuMmBp9Eq5C8bFU1VUvHV4Wf2Ju3DC-Rgj7fpGPTt-HROThke_9nXhDXgA6ZHzFNyYI5oLweFv1b2r6tS2KP8oGozYX4ICWXZsQsZEtMn5cA/s320/gunbured-c397-sisters-volume-1.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Wataru Mitogawa, <i>Gunbured x Sisters</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It probably says something about me that I will eschew what I know to be quality manga to read trash like <i>Gunbured x Sisters</i> instead, but I'm here for a good time not a 400+ volume time, you know? <i>Gunbured x Sisters</i> is a monster-stomping manga about a big-breasted battle nun and her pet dhampir (no, really, their relationship seems based on petplay) as they fight vampires. <i>Gunbured x Sisters</i> has decent action and near-constant horniness, if that helps make your mind up about it one way or another. The Gothic Fantasy version of Catholicism we get in <i>Gunbured x Sisters</i> has some interesting wrinkles, but I gotta tell ya: these nuns are anything but celibate. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUO7dzo13RFe7XSbjd3OADFbVBB2GC6oradTlt7zZXaZxZtOx69FWIRXfj6kFL6ioY6tJCKnXRFA-dqRlIXKfGnbFvdCZC3AaxYGpPteZx5bU-oIVPCn8OozHpjl87o56f87eD0QxEM45QLAcGJ8-kwok_6LTmmzCgsVZCZI5o77mtc7RYEoaVXAyjoko/s1000/81WhI6r6IKL._AC_UF1000,1000_QL80_.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="793" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUO7dzo13RFe7XSbjd3OADFbVBB2GC6oradTlt7zZXaZxZtOx69FWIRXfj6kFL6ioY6tJCKnXRFA-dqRlIXKfGnbFvdCZC3AaxYGpPteZx5bU-oIVPCn8OozHpjl87o56f87eD0QxEM45QLAcGJ8-kwok_6LTmmzCgsVZCZI5o77mtc7RYEoaVXAyjoko/s320/81WhI6r6IKL._AC_UF1000,1000_QL80_.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Metalocalypse: Army of the Doomstar</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I finally made time to sit down and watch <i>Army of the Doomstar </i>after having re-watched all of <i>Metalocalypse</i> over the summer. Much of <i>Army of the Doomstar</i> is melancholic and introspective, a marked departure from what the cartoon usually deals in: brutally casual violence and jokes about metal. There are some very fun gory sequences here, but at the very end <i>Metalocalypse</i> tries some different--maybe even something we'd call affirming. Though different, <i>Army of the Doomstar</i> is a fitting end to the <i>Metalocalypse</i> saga.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH52Cg-QxvKg0JdHRNaD6yphL2UuV5gg53juRs6S3J3KZpMTNvmZ0g0UFva89-1u7WqKJpZB7bi7iz3qgSez4CWZYEmfzR7cCrqfvV2NujzsiJBk1xuj3nMEoOoFeaFTqR_aAfPPKJwoCc4FKZPUqpijjiEsLbb4U-iUpp82Lb_SYyzW1yOsyKHqHZHWM/s2626/vermis1cover%20j.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2626" data-original-width="1646" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH52Cg-QxvKg0JdHRNaD6yphL2UuV5gg53juRs6S3J3KZpMTNvmZ0g0UFva89-1u7WqKJpZB7bi7iz3qgSez4CWZYEmfzR7cCrqfvV2NujzsiJBk1xuj3nMEoOoFeaFTqR_aAfPPKJwoCc4FKZPUqpijjiEsLbb4U-iUpp82Lb_SYyzW1yOsyKHqHZHWM/s320/vermis1cover%20j.jpg" width="201" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Plastiboo, <i>Vermis</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It was probably bound to happen: I've joined the <i>Vermis </i>cult. <i>Vermis</i> has a novel concept--it's the "official guide" for a retro-styled dark fantasy video that doesn't exist. Through art and cryptic text, <i>Vermis</i> introduces the game's characters, locations, items of power, and monsters. Melancholic and dolorous, the world of <i>Vermis </i>should appeal to fans of FromSoft's <i>Souls</i> games for sure, but more generally I could see fans of old-school dark fantasy absolutely loving this. Being a video gamer is definitely not required--do you like grotty art and fantasy that leans more toward horror than epic quests? Unsheathe your blade and proceed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwYUqXiarnRui_4FGr7zIQEpNHXouhOQPe22wiPiGED4E9jT2b19VAdnUwvL-k4QYZbJlnk0Z2e4bjhKb_o49m8DgxU8CXBzrxr3ePcYDj2b_Mj5zlIhq3IXBBM2NiKyFvydy_ccfy_PBZs57vXQ0j1yTHztn8h2nACzQ143h1awcurrZo-vMij74xwM/s1481/poor%20things.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1481" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwYUqXiarnRui_4FGr7zIQEpNHXouhOQPe22wiPiGED4E9jT2b19VAdnUwvL-k4QYZbJlnk0Z2e4bjhKb_o49m8DgxU8CXBzrxr3ePcYDj2b_Mj5zlIhq3IXBBM2NiKyFvydy_ccfy_PBZs57vXQ0j1yTHztn8h2nACzQ143h1awcurrZo-vMij74xwM/s320/poor%20things.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Poor Things</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">There was both a lot of critical hype and a bit of derision surrounding <i>Poor Things</i>, and I was pretty excited for it since it was announced, and it really lived up to my expectations. The move is laugh out loud funny, and god damn that's the most sex I've seen on screen in a long time. It's really nice to sit down in a theater and watch a movie that was actually made for adults. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I think we need to reckon with the fact that Emma Stone is one of the finest actresses currently working; her performance here is fearless, and the way she subtly plays her character's maturation is a thing to behold. Willem Dafoe also sinks his teeth into his best role since we saw him in <i>The Lighthouse</i>. I'm going to be thinking about this film for a long time to come.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtumTmRKlBi20AO9F2aPTXejjsabK6mfeY4PFZBk1A4E5xHSeTxpEo3A82Nn1659xP3LQFp94VcLWsW7e31GHMVmEoKbPDndJ0fBo9G1UpQHBxTGBf6shBNv6Bd6qXdszxvSOGUCP2JGqonksKS4OIZNSSRbFmR2SxQiOXtCwf4n2ntLRHN84uH2ptZho/s2958/christmas-carol.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2958" data-original-width="2002" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtumTmRKlBi20AO9F2aPTXejjsabK6mfeY4PFZBk1A4E5xHSeTxpEo3A82Nn1659xP3LQFp94VcLWsW7e31GHMVmEoKbPDndJ0fBo9G1UpQHBxTGBf6shBNv6Bd6qXdszxvSOGUCP2JGqonksKS4OIZNSSRbFmR2SxQiOXtCwf4n2ntLRHN84uH2ptZho/s320/christmas-carol.jpg" width="217" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>The Muppet Christmas Carol</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I got a copy of <i>The Muppet Christmas Carol</i> for our Christmas Eve festivities this year. I had never seen it before, but I am very well-acquainted with Dickens's <i>A Christmas Carol</i>. The combination of live-action Michael Caine and a cast made up entirely of muppets is pretty funny on the face of it, but <i>The Muppet Christmas Carol</i> is a shockingly accurate and faithful adaptation. Some of the songs are a bit much, especially where it gets maudlin about Tiny Tim, but it's not like Dickens doesn't pull the same saccharine sentiments, so again this follows the source material quite closely.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGp2b3zSCzA5eaGtnXvYpOvfazVsPYcGWlUI3bqnbP43YdT2nfpyAn2tUx1Mpt1VowC6Sghgndpg8t7uQz76mV-Lsx0u7qIv3Nq6Bdl7QbAlzcIAxNRHJPNxQ8Hj4pD2rhJvnpr7ivqurTY_K7wpOYMl6u8BnBNuIV3M5XUw_OBvfswCflhGY4wMK01Nc/s1000/81lN-Eo2uyL._AC_UF1000,1000_QL80_.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="862" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGp2b3zSCzA5eaGtnXvYpOvfazVsPYcGWlUI3bqnbP43YdT2nfpyAn2tUx1Mpt1VowC6Sghgndpg8t7uQz76mV-Lsx0u7qIv3Nq6Bdl7QbAlzcIAxNRHJPNxQ8Hj4pD2rhJvnpr7ivqurTY_K7wpOYMl6u8BnBNuIV3M5XUw_OBvfswCflhGY4wMK01Nc/s320/81lN-Eo2uyL._AC_UF1000,1000_QL80_.jpg" width="276" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Swamp Thing</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Wes Craven's <i>Swamp Thing</i> also featured in our Christmas Eve festivities this year. It's not a particularly seasonal movie perhaps, but maybe it fits by virtue of the fact that Swamp Thing is a Christ-like figure. No, I will not be explaining that further. I do have quite a bit of nostalgia for this movie, as it always seemed to be on the USA network when I was young, so I still have a lot of affection for this man-in-a-rubber-suit monster flick. Plus, Adrienne Barbeau is smokin' hot in <i>Swamp Thing</i>, and interestingly I think her character is allowed to kick more ass than women in similar roles now are generally allowed.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4i9nYtGDiQ7AuszopFcIJN52eVI473Tl-wopMQNbglnyr4d0l6hrIXDwH8dOaSgE2Fh5utzsYTxGlyH1NEBM3JLZtU8BsRop2rjICMYubaWOCmuSGdTHm4fEoCczQ-Q5s_1izqdyeP8dfPCfir02uWef1bvNAPhIk7akY7ybMCeS2kl5G_QwKKZBJcfY/s1440/spiritbox_the_fear_of_fear_cover.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4i9nYtGDiQ7AuszopFcIJN52eVI473Tl-wopMQNbglnyr4d0l6hrIXDwH8dOaSgE2Fh5utzsYTxGlyH1NEBM3JLZtU8BsRop2rjICMYubaWOCmuSGdTHm4fEoCczQ-Q5s_1izqdyeP8dfPCfir02uWef1bvNAPhIk7akY7ybMCeS2kl5G_QwKKZBJcfY/w200-h200/spiritbox_the_fear_of_fear_cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Spiritbox, <i>The Fear of Fear</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">It feels like Spiritbox is on an unstoppable roll. From their collaboration with Megan Thee Stallion to their latest EP, <i>The Fear of Fear</i>, 2023 felt like a rising year for the band. <i>The Fear of Fear</i> starts off hard, but across its handful of songs it manages to showcase the band's many moods and mastery of many textures. If <i>The Fear of Fear</i> is any indication, their sophomore album will be another killer.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQmKGzYT5RE1wZwD7eruI4_vN5TwC330hxXFCo1D8T6pIqi9AHwzyDnskUjjwLvN7iIXiSmeETW9jHPci39vI2Wq0tW_23yFp1Z5yJDxsQpSBpzPE7uTVrkE0owZRgrJaruHKAXhVvCJoukrMim0r5nIISdZSS5l7LYPdialgLnS-39uJj1m5X8AJYO1Y/s2550/55959421.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1688" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQmKGzYT5RE1wZwD7eruI4_vN5TwC330hxXFCo1D8T6pIqi9AHwzyDnskUjjwLvN7iIXiSmeETW9jHPci39vI2Wq0tW_23yFp1Z5yJDxsQpSBpzPE7uTVrkE0owZRgrJaruHKAXhVvCJoukrMim0r5nIISdZSS5l7LYPdialgLnS-39uJj1m5X8AJYO1Y/s320/55959421.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sarai Walker, <i>The Cherry Robbers</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">To be honest, this one is a <i>mild</i> delight. Sarai Walker's <i>The Cherry Robbers</i> has a lot of strong thematic elements that I enjoyed (a riff on the Winchester House, a family of daughters who inexplicably die after their first sexual encounter with a man, a "mad" mother who senses doom on the wind, etc.), but this one lacks the intensity that makes similar feminist Gothic novels really sing. It's not bad by any means, is actually quite engaging and well-written, and I like how it brings the Gothic into a 1950s context, but I would be more apt to recommend <i>The Cherry Robbers</i> to someone looking for a book more on the "literary" end than one suffused with Gothic nonsense.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DS3Fv9DFI784J4ZvIE9e1cNJ4Pw2596etL0VXPpI766ARybiXInpvajfvbVHOkPd7HhZnFNhiwaoh_HW63VqWycu6HL95poq9swuvSKKyV0JUcXYmdn8EnRiuCLb8mszUXqrP7ayxE2OltpevSUt6hDpReO_2nP7UYU9v-uS12BlDn0cett81sm2sb4/s1200/9781506736037_manga-hp-lovecrafts-the-shadow-over-innsmouth-primary.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="848" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DS3Fv9DFI784J4ZvIE9e1cNJ4Pw2596etL0VXPpI766ARybiXInpvajfvbVHOkPd7HhZnFNhiwaoh_HW63VqWycu6HL95poq9swuvSKKyV0JUcXYmdn8EnRiuCLb8mszUXqrP7ayxE2OltpevSUt6hDpReO_2nP7UYU9v-uS12BlDn0cett81sm2sb4/s320/9781506736037_manga-hp-lovecrafts-the-shadow-over-innsmouth-primary.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Gou Tanabe, <i>The Shadow Over Innsmouth</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gou Tanabe's graphomaniac black and white manga art is absolutely a perfect accompaniment to "The Shadow Over Innsmouth," one of Lovecraft's most anxiety-riddled short stories. We live in an era where Lovecraft, and adaptations of Lovecraft, exert an outsized influence on modern horror media, but Gou Tanabe's take feels like it both honors the source material and presents a fresh version of something that has become commonplace through repetition. On the strength of <i>The Shadow Over Innsmouth</i>, I definitely plan on checking out the rest of his Lovecraft adaptations. I hear "The Call of Cthulhu" comes in the summer of next year, so that's pretty exciting.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAjQ5K8uveM_jOoHPtqJD1SA__a4RUqAuBnpi2biT09UwPBLPDcwVeiirXpIG8yNDL9EHbOG8FbXWmfIr-QJ931d0mDr5Ezh_HM17xuPt7CXNPjGPU5tdbJoDvBGyKF0MtGJQ-JKWwvp1Z4K33a5q6Jhc0szpvbtQrMW89ClQPurUFDP6nqDeEsOAafc/s1280/Mad-God-Poster.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="866" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAjQ5K8uveM_jOoHPtqJD1SA__a4RUqAuBnpi2biT09UwPBLPDcwVeiirXpIG8yNDL9EHbOG8FbXWmfIr-QJ931d0mDr5Ezh_HM17xuPt7CXNPjGPU5tdbJoDvBGyKF0MtGJQ-JKWwvp1Z4K33a5q6Jhc0szpvbtQrMW89ClQPurUFDP6nqDeEsOAafc/s320/Mad-God-Poster.jpg" width="217" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Mad God</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">My big fear for <i>Mad God</i> was that it was just going to feel like an extended Tool video, but luckily it is very much its own thing. If you aren't familiar with it, <i>Mad God</i> is a mostly stop-motion animation film that took creator Phil Tippet over thirty years to finish. For some viewers, <i>Mad God</i> will be too light on storytelling. For me, <i>Mad God</i> is the kind of movie I can just watch without really having to think about--the whole thing just sort of washes over you with waves of grime and misery. It's probably not for the faint of heart, but the best things aren't. Lots of drippy, gross meatstuff in display here.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCQ_OBvKejCrocDlItZeCKrbVNCwa46iHhs8pZwun7dYpoSbTfacPCdC_bb-NSer1x7a5tSkfvDodnx-1x0NvrjoWOOc6qoHcw3Prlns-qiUITJ-KlfC90MeiwtSUwNdc8DL8Z9WvfFVkJxGY82rfoWOEG5IUKjTEBa87G2BLBIxeSol5kObAPYflhAE4/s1778/bes.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCQ_OBvKejCrocDlItZeCKrbVNCwa46iHhs8pZwun7dYpoSbTfacPCdC_bb-NSer1x7a5tSkfvDodnx-1x0NvrjoWOOc6qoHcw3Prlns-qiUITJ-KlfC90MeiwtSUwNdc8DL8Z9WvfFVkJxGY82rfoWOEG5IUKjTEBa87G2BLBIxeSol5kObAPYflhAE4/s320/bes.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Blue Eye Samurai</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Although it treads a fairly well-worn path of revenge, <i>Blue Eye Samurai</i> has enough twists and turns to be truly compelling. The art style is amazing; it's definitely a cut above most Netflix animated series I've seen. Additionally, <i>Blue Eye Samurai</i> can be unbelievably tense. I had to stop watching it at night because being on the edge of my seat before bedtime was messing with my sleep cycle. Tons of violence in this, a surprising amount of sex, and a fantastic cover of Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls"? Wonderful. Can't wait for another season. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UpdDuF2fd0oldbGIPKCL2SvSQuX-43mSP4SGH-qXViGvnv6iuNhytXx5-__u-_Lx_wWKqa6Y9hPz0GvTvzBYaNfUcVsB-mp5tqAa93T8skgP6bRrZ0AUzC7hPJvSPKDinWwt3zqEiDHR9V8vJrzt5NWd2JDUBFkzmz68YpVQvZ5GMwzoF4wwFDCAbBE/s1500/STL292373.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UpdDuF2fd0oldbGIPKCL2SvSQuX-43mSP4SGH-qXViGvnv6iuNhytXx5-__u-_Lx_wWKqa6Y9hPz0GvTvzBYaNfUcVsB-mp5tqAa93T8skgP6bRrZ0AUzC7hPJvSPKDinWwt3zqEiDHR9V8vJrzt5NWd2JDUBFkzmz68YpVQvZ5GMwzoF4wwFDCAbBE/s320/STL292373.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Spawn Cover Gallery Vol. 1, 1-100</b></i></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The first volume of the <i>Spawn Cover Gallery</i> collects the covers from the first hundred issue's of Todd McFarlane's <i>Spawn</i> comic. Presented as a handsome hardcover, the reproductions of each cover are great. You can fault McFarlane for his pacing, his storytelling (or lack thereof), and even with losing interest in his own indie project, but you gotta admit that he truly exceled at covers--the more static and "pin-up-y" the better. His attention to detail and dynamic poses are a winning combination; some of the covers collected here are absolutely and undeniably iconic.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVkfdduZESQAMLlotN1jaaLK4xqtbcXOk9ZdiAtmpLu7938O-cRxHuG86e0j_Pw_RiJQulbzsjyog-BS3YuvaK0Ea5pgeM-GAhcugJmC3UsZV2vOg0sI17Ru06GsxAcMUv_JoGdfcXWwx5XeQElUhmvVbl0jtouqCZwYtMGhpzs1c0H7i8nyW1cZLLHE/s1481/saltburn.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1481" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVkfdduZESQAMLlotN1jaaLK4xqtbcXOk9ZdiAtmpLu7938O-cRxHuG86e0j_Pw_RiJQulbzsjyog-BS3YuvaK0Ea5pgeM-GAhcugJmC3UsZV2vOg0sI17Ru06GsxAcMUv_JoGdfcXWwx5XeQElUhmvVbl0jtouqCZwYtMGhpzs1c0H7i8nyW1cZLLHE/s320/saltburn.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Saltburn</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I do love a movie with rancid vibes and <i>Saltburn</i>, a film about a scholarship student at Oxford who manages to ingratiate himself with an upper class family to spend the summer at their palatial estate, has rancid vibes in abundance. This really is a movie filled with grimy little shits for characters, which is one of my favorite genres of movie. After I watched it, I heard that there was some Twitter discourse around how unsettling it is, which is funny because if I had one critique it's that the movie could have gone a little harder. But that's the moral lesson to close out 2023 with: don't pay any attention to Twitter discourse.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCQW_ozao8F51ZFbK8NdgvLRbFoq5lD1mpd3L7FRHrEnpOhBYOr0gmisJdHfsXWF6eQ2exs3e7F6bRmN5-iqjyb-TL9UvJ7gpmOW1NzPNiov13npjCN1AqFcotzq9xIyD_NSVZDzQQ8wbRdl5VENjrOoJTpxfux94fgxeoKPaWgzu3fj7JgVNQkRLXYk/s1600/IMG_8816.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCQW_ozao8F51ZFbK8NdgvLRbFoq5lD1mpd3L7FRHrEnpOhBYOr0gmisJdHfsXWF6eQ2exs3e7F6bRmN5-iqjyb-TL9UvJ7gpmOW1NzPNiov13npjCN1AqFcotzq9xIyD_NSVZDzQQ8wbRdl5VENjrOoJTpxfux94fgxeoKPaWgzu3fj7JgVNQkRLXYk/s320/IMG_8816.png" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Emily Bergslien and Kat Weaver, <i>Uncommon Charm</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I managed to squeeze one last book into 2023: Emily Bergslien and Kat Weaver's <i>Uncommon Charm</i>, a novella about a young Jewish man who discovers he is a magician and a young woman who is delving into the haunting secrets of her own familial past. As promised, the book does possess an uncanny charm, presenting common Gothic conventions in a modern and often archly humorous light. Despite its short page count and zippy, 1920's tone, <i>Uncommon Charm</i> also has a degree of subtly to it as well--deeper layers beneath the distractions.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p></div></div>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-89526988719117311222023-12-25T21:55:00.000-05:002023-12-25T21:55:47.165-05:00The Best of 2023<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyKDnuTJCHSJh80WDHRWPArQv8nKVIAy0HugvYpFTvFsina7JNxSGMJmz5myGHbobCIkhpyKZ64jPzVVIvwqOHVwtNAmpcnBZUQqdw-KJHgSGZUKZ1JIohKZPZt8NQoCn-lOfkeZsKxx6MJo6PWXuesB7K1ihmSHlRniFQgwnUusi19rw2LXfPGCLS5M/s1400/bestof2023-bbfbp-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyKDnuTJCHSJh80WDHRWPArQv8nKVIAy0HugvYpFTvFsina7JNxSGMJmz5myGHbobCIkhpyKZ64jPzVVIvwqOHVwtNAmpcnBZUQqdw-KJHgSGZUKZ1JIohKZPZt8NQoCn-lOfkeZsKxx6MJo6PWXuesB7K1ihmSHlRniFQgwnUusi19rw2LXfPGCLS5M/w200-h200/bestof2023-bbfbp-cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://badbooksbadpeople.com/episodes/episode-73-best-of-2023"><b>Bad Books for Bad People, Episode 73: The Best of 2023</b></a></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Jack and Kate look at what they've read and watched in the year that was 2023 and make some recommendations in the world of books and beyond. The rules of engagement are simple: the hosts each choose one movie, album, TV show, and book that was the best experience of its kind, regardless of when it was actually produced. A little bit new, a little bit old, and a whole lot of weirdness is in store!</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Join your hosts for a discussion that ranges from a sinister girls’ school to a rogue AI (a court-mandated topic in 2023) to gratuitous comedy penises.</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454587140887591817.post-88049980940133135812023-12-19T22:14:00.000-05:002023-12-19T22:14:01.603-05:00The Bitter Perfume of a Solstice Night<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAMX5RExjXykz2EhpLR6Gos4tWPy4i60Nh-TtF8TIgnL17w7WA3gXgc5pJmfHyxq0vtjTGrGz4gIcGnmVfWyZBHJQoBWS0ElYki87c2JaPi9vstobD8bdBi6BQAxiysLCDTUfeJprhxxLKpAesptd7yIC3lqITqpJkdKsyaNRYFecsvSHPMIxAlTScXQ/s5000/mtree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAMX5RExjXykz2EhpLR6Gos4tWPy4i60Nh-TtF8TIgnL17w7WA3gXgc5pJmfHyxq0vtjTGrGz4gIcGnmVfWyZBHJQoBWS0ElYki87c2JaPi9vstobD8bdBi6BQAxiysLCDTUfeJprhxxLKpAesptd7yIC3lqITqpJkdKsyaNRYFecsvSHPMIxAlTScXQ/s320/mtree.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">I'll probably never be able to top Melania's grim Slavic hell Christmas-scapes, but I <i>did</i> finish a Christmas tale set in Krevborna, which you can read <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/14eOuSJ-d9BkoHMc9UPTDAeoHHTcTzmzv/view"><b>here</b></a>. Things you can expect from this story: weary travelers, a horrible monster, disturbing allusions to Christmas tradition, satanic magic, and a red-haired barbarian warrioress who totally rails three mercenaries.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As they say in darkest Krevborna,"Merry Khristmas to all, and to all a good night."</span></p>Jack Guignolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05226738666709754348noreply@blogger.com