Still geeking, still not over Garrosh's death.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pw

(soundtrack to this post)

Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life 

Still suffering from a micro-version of PTSD from Garrosh's death. I'm having these dumb nightmares about the fair, about being left out and not told, running around through the cheerful crowd with my merchandise, not finding my hut, screaming in frustration and being laughed at – people saying ‘no wonder she didn’t get in, just look at how she acts’… I watched some of the Spartacus and those poor slaves, the men and the women, broken like trees until they are nothing but walking exercise bait, when in another world, my world, they’d be hot guys and girls going clubbing and trying to score cool jobs.

I have to really, REEEALLY watch that line between the good guys and the bad guys, because Kay is walking on that line so unsteadily. She is angry as hell and she is socializing with men who are villains in their worst. I know the last chapter is all about the gang going bad for a moment, but as Garrosh teaches us, you may wanna keep that shit in check, because sometimes that’s the last thing in your diary and the first thing in the history books about you.

There’s a song I’ve had on my iPod for about a … quarter of a year now. But I have never listened to it, not once, because the first lines were off-putting: My girl’s got humour, she’s a giggle at a funeral ..

I listened to it yesterday. I woke up, with that song in my mind and just knew that when I start walking Starbark, that’ll be the first song I listen to. Holy shit. That is totally the song that Kay needs to listen to when she’s realizing she’s crossing the line. There is a scene, pretty much everyone is fucked over Garrosh’s death and she sees a moment in the history of French revolution, when two carriages of young women from a monastery school are fleeing the city and the Jacobin recruits, drunk on power or just drunk, decide to intercept them in the fields outside the city. These are just some old nuns and a lot of young girls, so they don’t stand a chance. Kay watches this from another portal and another great Orc’s bedroom and even though she is not permitted to breach fables, she sends the orcs and their worgs to “skullfuck everything”. The orcs kill all the assailants and finish off some of the injured, who would have not made it anyways – and they are anything but subtle about it, so that Cole has to come and clean up the mess. Kay doesn’t care. One of the girls, though injured, gets up and screams after Kay: “You are all monsters!” Kay considers this and nods her head in a dark, defeated way: “Yes. But you are not.”

Never mind the part where the girl is then told she is insane from shock and put in a mental institution until eventually she gets so upset and violent they decide it’s best to hang her for kicking another inmate to death. That much about that. Kay probably saves her at some point, probably right from the gallows, though the moment is more important because at that bit the once very fuzzy headed and moral individual genuinely contemplates letting go. Not because she would want to be a villain, but because she is sick and tired of trying to prove to everyone that she’s NOT. It just feels easier to let go. It just seems like the bad guys have all the fun. And Kay hadn’t had fun in a while.

Kestrel (in game as in the book) cuts her hair pixie short and dyes it black and moves her house to where she can visit the grotesque remains of her kid’s father every day.