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[frankie's pov during this scene. starts right after she steals sinner's cig]
frankie and sinner have been sharing everything for years: a car, money (if they had any), clothes, guns. and lately, cigarettes too. there's no much difference between sharing everything else and finishing each other's smokes, in frankie's opinion.
it's oddly intimate, the way most of the things they do tend to be. like an indirect kiss. thats stupid, frankie scolds herself, what are you, twelve? she feels a pang of shame deep down in her gut for even thinking about it and wonders if the thought ever crossed sinner's mind too. probably not. sinner's not the kind of person to dwell on such things, too busy suppressing any thought that might threaten the precarious life they've built for themselves. if she finds frankie's new habit odd she hasn't said so yet.
with no distractions other than the roar of distant cars and an old janis song playing on the radio (something about love and blues and having nothing left to lose), sinner's intense gaze is almost unbearable. it's like a physical weight, oppressing and suffocating.
frankie feels the foolish urge to cover herself. the need to hide something from sinner is a foreign sensation. there was a time when they knew everything there was to know about each other, back when everything was a matter of life and death, hunt or be hunted. when the most important thing in the world was finishing the hunt they were working on at the time, to kill the vampire, shapeshifter or whatever it was that was terrorizing one of the thousand of nameless towns they passed through. and then move on to the next one.
frankie misses the rawness of it all. there was no room for hesitation or doubt, back then.
jesus, she's exhausted. she's covered in blood (hers or sinner’s? does it even matter?), monster guck and who knows what else. she needs a shower and a drink but she knows she won't get either until tomorrow night, if she's lucky. it's not safe to stop now. they should put this town in their rearview mirror and drive three or four hours before allowing themselves a break. getting rid of the monster of the week does not mean the town will be grateful, not in their line of work. they have a long night ahead of them. and it's starting to get cold.
for a wishful moment frankie lets her mind wander, what it would be like- for sinner to take that last step separating them and steal her cig back. to feel her breath on her skin. the proximity of her body (real and alive and right there), close enough to feel the heat radiating from her, close enough to touch. her shirt (their shirt) damp with blood and dirt, the butter soft feel of her old leather jacket.
she wishes sinner would kiss her. so close, it’s hard not to notice the few inches frankie has on her, and a small part of frankie rebels at the fact that sinner would have to look up, maybe even stand on her tiptoes, to kiss her. frankie's seen sinner flirt with the women she picks up at random bars in nameless towns. she knows all her moves, her cockiness and sleazy looks, the mask she wears around strangers. but it wouldn't be like that. sinner would lean in, unsure and slowly but so, so honest. she'd be real. she's only herself around frankie.
just thinking about it makes frankie swallow, her throat dry. she really needs that drink. it could be so good. we- we could be so good. frankie wouldn't even tease sinner about her height.
her eyes travel over sinner's face, from the sweaty fringe plastered to her forehead to the arch of her eyebrows, following the shape of her nose, all the freckles that adorn her skin, invisible under the night sky. but frankie doesn't need to see them to know they're there, just as she knows there's a small, almost imperceptible scar on her left cheek, where a shapeshifter nearly got her a few years ago. her eyes keep going down, down, to her bitten red lips, the gentle curve of her chin.
she notices a small cut on sinner's jaw and thinks that would sting if I grabbed her face. fantasy-sinner would complain between kisses, fond and playful (careful with the merchandise, frankie-) but she'd let herself be held.
in frankie's fantasies sinner kisses back. she always does.
as expected, none of that happens. frankie stands there, hesitant, reluctant to break the spell, and takes a long drag because she doesn't trust her own voice. she wouldn't know what to say anyway. she feels naked under sinner's intense scrutiny. her body torn apart, guts and secrets spilling out, making a mess. everything on display. embarrassing. she needs to pull herself together.
she waits and wonders do you want me? do you need me? could i make you feel better?
and then, with nauseating fear, do you even know?
just as her thoughts begin to spiral out of control, a bright, warm sound breaks the silence of the night. sinner's laughter is familiar and comforting, like an old, worn shirt. it realigns frankie's world and pulls her back to reality, away from her fantasy world (where sinner wants her back, they're in love, and their lives aren’t so fucked up that they can't do anything about it-).
sinner smiles, "girl, you've gotta start buying your own smokes" she says. her voice is unusually high, bursting from her as if she's desperate to fill the silence, too. frankie, in a gesture that now feels almost like second nature, pretends not to notice. for both their sakes.
there's this book written in the 1870's by an abolitionist minister, Moncure D. Conway, and I find it super interesting. it's called 'Demonology and Devil-lore', and it's basically this guy's theories as to how various deities evolved. keep in mind this is all just a single dead dude's opinions, so a big spoonful of salt is required, but he says that older deities (like Old Testament God) rarely have a clear split between good/bad, and can deliver both with the same hand, and that the later splitting of good vs evil (like New Testament God, who's quite a bit nicer) can sometimes be attributed to politics. because if you're attempting to use religion as a form of control, it's better to position your guy as the Good guy. and he goes over how various demons are just the bastardized remnants of gods from conquered/colonized religions that have been swallowed by christianity, and then makes an attempt to exhaustively categorize them by type (this is where the book gets a bit dull. as an aside, this guy would have loved Pokemon.)
anyway, it got me thinking about how religious syncretism would work in a world where gods were REAL, and so that became the subplot of The Ignoble Invasion of Prince Proculo.
it's set in 'fantasy Britain', which is a land that has experienced wave after wave of conquest and colonization. about mid 1500's, so we've had the Bell Beaker people, the Celts, the Romans, all the way to the current spread of Christianity, sorry, I mean The Goddess of the Resurrection. and she has to ability to literally demonize worshippers of other religions (which is why there's so many fun animal-people hybrids around), which makes it mentally easier for the crusaders of the Goddess to mop them up. easier to kill people if you don't see them as people.
her ultimate goal in all this is to swallow up all the gods she can and incorporate them into herself, because that's just what every god wants as part of their life cycle. and she's had great success, so far!
tl;dr The Ignoble Invasion of Prince Proculo might be an isekai yaoi monsterfucking book, but I couldn't have done it without minister Moncure Daniel Conway and his autism-fuelled theory book.
it's also funny, because when there's talk of 'The Old Gods' or 'The Elder Gods' in TIIOPP, a lot of the time they just mean like..... Apollo or something. like it sounds very eldritch, but it's just roman leftovers.
the game Pentiment was actually a huge inspiration for this. I won't spoil why that is, because that would give away the game's climax, but it's very worth checking out. also the entire game is styled to look like a medieval manuscript, so it's just a beautiful world to walk around in.
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red delicious: you buy things based on the label. surely the one with delicious in the name tastes good, right?
granny smith: you know that the delicious family is trash but you don't trust all these fancy new varieties. you wish we could go back to simpler times.
honeycrisp: someone on the internet told you to try it.
cosmic crisp: you have made at least one post on r/apples asking everyone what the best apple is.
pink lady: you have made at least one post on r/apples asking everyone what the best apple is, but you refuse to try cosmic crisp because you think the cashier will know that it's a reddit apple and will judge you for buying it.
at some point in your life you will be boiling fruit, water, sugar, and lemon juice in a pot to make a syrup or jam. the instructions will tell you to simmer for a certain amt of time. your timer will go off and you will look at the pot and go, "hm, this doesn't look thick enough. maybe i'll let it go for another 10 minutes." this is the devil speaking. it's only so liquid right now because it is at boiling point. it will thicken when it cools down. learn from the follies of my youth and do not let this happen to you
at some point in your life you will be making a sauce or a stew in which you need to add cornstarch to thicken it. and you will prepare a slurry of starch in cold water and think "this looks like way too little starch to thicken this amount of liquid." this is the devil speaking. cornstarch instantly polymerizes at 95°C and if you add too much it will turn into an impossibly thick goop.
at some point in your life you will be making some sort of cream based dessert that requires gelatin to thicken it. and you will soak some gelatin sheets in water and think "this is too few gelatin sheets for this amount of cream." this is the devil speaking. it will thicken in the fridge and if you add too much you will end up with milk jelly
at some point in your life you will be baking cookies. you will take the sheet out after twelve minutes as the recipe instructs and the cookies will still be glistening and soft. "these don't seem cooked enough," you will think to yourself, "i should place them back into the oven until their edges are nice and golden." this is the devil talking. this is how you get dry, overdone cookies. the cookies will continue to bake on the warm sheet for several more minutes and then harden up after sitting on a rack for a while. trust the process. trust the process.
at some point in your life you will be adding a small pasta to a soup and you will think "that is not enough small pasta." this is the devil talking. the pasta will absorb the stock and expand. this is how you end up with a soup that is a solid mass of soggy ditalini.
At some point in your life you will be adding garlic to a dish and you will think "that is not enough garlic." These are angels speaking. They are correct. Add more garlic.
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a lot of people are very angry with me over this, but I'd just like you to sit down and imagine a banana. maybe a green one so it's extra firm. if you need it to be harder, you can toss it in the freezer.
and that brown end? the hard bit? pencil sharpener. or sharpened with a blade. are you following me? now, attach six of those to a harpy.
yeah. I think you're seeing the vision. you can apologize to me any time you're ready
I hope this comes across as positive/complimentary: I'm reminded of the art teacher who is quoted somewhere on tumblr as saying approximately
I do not like this style. I will never like this style. ... My biggest criticism is that I merely dislike this [art project]. Make me hate it. Make me furious over how much fun you're having with this thing I hate.
You don't need that teacher's advice, though. You're already having so much fun that tumblr is furious.
i have attempted the impossible — making banana Sharp — and i have good news and bad news
As preamble: i am one of the proud 27% who voted “good” on the first poll (didn’t see the second in time to vote). And, in fact, I found the imagery of “claws like sharpened bananas” so provocative i just had to give sharpening a banana a go (plus i remembered i threw some ripe bananas in the freezer like five months ago and thought hey, might as well! bananas, i’m sorry i failed to use you in smoothies as intended; i hope you find peace knowing you were donated to science instead. Rest In Peels.)
For my first attempt, I decided to take the easiest though least faithful-to-the-vision route first: sharpening the banana stem.
I was delighted to discover that a banana stem does fit into a pencil sharpener, so i got grinding.
And grinding.
And grinding.
Things were looking promising at first, but i rotated that thing in the sharpener for over three minutes and after a certain point, it just stopped getting sharper. I guess it became too narrow for the sharpener to like, reach?
(Pictured: the moment my wife asked me what the fuck i was doing to that banana)
But luckily my wife appeared around this time and, after expressing extreme bemusement, she acquiesced to applying her whittling skills to the task. I bestowed upon her a second frozen banana and she got to work.
What a champ.
And…it actually worked!! That bad boy was SHARP!
Like, not “draw blood easily” sharp. But yeah, if claws looking like this ^ were to shoot towards me, i’d be at least mildly afraid. That’s not nothin’ — right? right?
(I’m so good at photoshop)
But at this point i had to admit to myself the thing i’d known all along. Sharpening solely the stem wasn’t actually @pangur-and-grim’s vision.
So i tried, i really tried to sharpen the entire outer part of the banana with a knife sharpener + knife! Maybe it’s because the frozen bananas had thawed too much at this point but. it didn’t go…all that great
Then it was time for my final attempt.
I peeled one of those half-thawed nanners and shaped its soft body (which was the consistency of melty ice cream) with a combination of the knife sharpener and my bare fingers into what i hoped would be a fine point — once it re-froze.
One of them i “sharpened” the tip of; the other i tried to kinda sharpen the side of? By making a very thin ridge all along it. Because if they’re going to be claws they shouldn’t just poke people; they need to slice
Anyway that was an hour ago so i just checked on them and…
tragically, they are not sharp.
BUT i flattened them a little thinner to see if that helps, and now i’ll be patient for once in my life and wait to check on them till morning. Maybe being fully frozen will help
So yeah! The good news is you CAN sharpen a banana stem and that’s gotta count for something. The bad news is that sharpening the actual body of the banana has proven much more challenging.
if i never reblog with an update, it’ll mean I failed, no sharp peeled bananas to present. If i do update….
Well. You’ll get a photo of a razor-sharp banana.
It’ll totally happen. Totally
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