For its quirks, extracurriculars, and of course its reputation, the Bottom of the Cup Cafe was a popular haunt with students. Nesrin sat ensconced at one of the tables in the Amber Room, with a pile of books, a plate of lunch (the food was very good) and an antiquated laptop. A messy bun, glasses, and oversized MSU hoodie made for a nondescript facade as she tapped at the keyboard. Almaz worked fine for most of her needs; putting faces to names on the powermap was useful, as was the unobtrusive observation: alliances, rivalries, reactions to mistakes. To that end she’d also checked out the RLD venues printed on the cards Rev had given her, though of course that required an entirely different persona. The most vital groundwork was completed in dreams though. The recent anomaly there still shivered her spine with discomfort, but she was on a deadline; she didn’t have time for the fear. And she’d soon know if she’d done enough.

By now she’d moved on from the highrise condo, though its owners had made a very generous (and unknowing) donation to the cause in the form of a downpayment on a small apartment in a cheap part of the city. They wouldn’t miss the money and it had made her look less transient on the necessary job application, which didn’t usually matter for more temp work, but in this case she’d needed to fabricate the credential. She could have asked Zar, but she didn't want the connection to his family name. Not for this. Security was tighter given the prospective clientele, though not quite as robust as you might expect; it seemed the obscenely rich didn’t care who poured the drinks, so long as someone did. Even better if that someone smiled and looked pretty while they did it.

She wouldn’t actually be staying at the rented place, of course; she preferred luxury, and why the hell not? Moscow was a new playground, and Nesrin enjoyed the challenges to be had in her unique method of discovery. Last night’s rest spot had boasted impressive views of the skyline, and she’d toasted them with an expensive glass of wine from the bubbles of a hot-tub. No one would know she'd been there. Borrowing was so much more satisfying than owning.

The new job was secure. As she awaited the confirmation to ping through, she sat back with her coffee. An earbud sat in one ear, pumping soft music, but she was actually listening to the conversation between a couple adjacent; a woman with a lyrical accent, and a man with his head in his hands.

It had been a while since he'd seen anyone.  He got lost down in the tunnel weeks ago.  He'd hid from a group of creatures or so he thought they'd been.  But it was just Nox clearing the tunnels with the others with them.  And that was the last time he saw another person or even a monster.  Food was scarce.  And he was starving.  The tunnels were no place to take refuge but in his haste to flee his impending death at the hands of the Atharim women he'd been with he'd lost track of his whereabouts in the tunnels.

What he wouldn't give for a pair of land warriors.  Or for the traitorous boy god to find him.  But that wasn't to be had.  It had been weeks.  Or at least that's what his wallet said.  Which lost power long before that.  Day and night meant little in the tunnels.  Water was easy.  Rats were fair game.  But even they didn't seem to be present wherever in the depths of hell Jer had descended.  

He was tired and weak and his stomach gnawed on itself.  Jer stumbled into a wall and slunk to the wet floor.  At least there was water dripping from the ground here.  He could survive another day with more water.  That was his goal -- though he had no idea how he'd find his way out of this scrape.

Vaia Plus Employee

Leon Fyodorov is a low level scientist whose main job is to perform field tests on viable subjects.  He uses the Almaz as a means of testing their trials in combat against foes in a semi-controlled situation.

He is currently attached to the CxR project.

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I really liked the opening to this episode. Seeing Gitara’s vision as it was happening in tandem with the birth of the dragon was a great way to visualize what happened. The cute relationship between Siuan and Moiraine was totally on display and I loved the “and you’ll be MY fishwife” banter. It was so cute, it felt like one of them needed to boop the other on the nose! Plus side note, those blue outfits they wore were gorgeous! Upgrading them from Accepted to Aes Sedai at the time of the foretelling made a lot of sense.

I do not understand how there was a Seat for the Amyrlin to sit on in Cairhein. But i guess that’s movie magic? lol. The rest of the room was really pretty though. It kind of looks like the Cairhein throne room in general, so I’m wondering if that’s just a generic throne that just happens to look like the same throne as the Amyrlin Seat in the Hall of the Tower? I dont know.

Leane was awful cold to Moiraine! geez Leane.

Lan and Rand banter was also really good. I loved Lan being all Borderlander and teaching him the same stuff that in the books took place when Rand met the Amyrlin in Fal Dara. “Tuck in your shirt” was such a Lan thing to say. I also really loved Lan telling Rand to be a man by facing whatever came on his feet. But then later in the episode, the first time Rand gets shielded, he’s so NOT on his feet. Lol. Like Geez! come on Rand, at least stand up!

We did finally get Rand’s pretty black coat and cat crosses the courtyard! woo! I was happy with Lan in this scene.

I felt like Siuan talking about caging Rand was a foreshadowing of Dumai’s Wells.

I got pretty irritated with all the people in this episode calling Rand ‘boy’ all the time. He’s a grown ass man. Let’s move on from the boy. He’s not 14. lol. I’m not even going to comment on how one aes sedai was able to shield Rand. I dont know. It took 2 aes sedai constantly channeling to keep Logain shielded, so clearly they are trying to demonstrate that Rand is still early in his development, but it bugged me. Oh well. I’ll get over it. I know why they did it for story telling purposes. I’m pretty much already over it. Those are my two gripes, but that’s ok.

Mat asking Lanfear “who in the name of the Light are you” with extra emphasis on the “light” word made me smile.

Falme looked really pretty in this episode. Almost dreamy. and apparently they have donuts! I am thrilled they filmed all the Falme stuff on location in Morocco. Those vistas were beautiful and made it feel so much more real.
I really liked how Elayne kind of took over bossing Nyn around.

i really enjoyed how all the aes sedai in the courtyard outside the palace are giving each other the side-eye. lol.

The Mat-Ishy conversation was chillingly sinister. Ishy is just crushing the character. Then there was that moment when Mat realizes who he’s talking to and gets nervous, it was so subtle, yet I felt his fear. Brilliant moment. I am convinced Ishy lied through his teeth about the tea’s purpose. I think it is just hallucinogenic. Ishy’s argument totally makes sense. Sign me up as a DF.

Lanfear’s little quirks are perfect. Like her tapping her fingers on the TAR ‘throne’ while Rand is talking to her. and the “oh i do love it when you try to manipulate me.” gosh - perfect. Then we finally get to see some of the Forsaken flexing their power and being actually dangerous as she destroys everything as she walks through the city.

Bain and Chaid! <3 them. Hand talk!! “Life is a dream” quote!

Barthanes being a DF was seen a mile away, I wasn’t sure about his mother, though. So her listening through the grate made me smile because that’s such a Great Game thing to do!  Best surprise of the episode was Barthanes’ acting through the cell door as he talked to his mother.

Best line of the episode was Egwene’s: “Renna, I will kill you.” as she rebraids her hair.

Verin was kickass. Good job, Brown Ajah! And when she quoted the prophecy, I had chills.

I knew Moiraine wasn’t stilled! bawhahahahah. I feel vindicated. 

And Lanfear to the rescue!

To sum up, not my favorite episode of the season, but after rewatching it, I did get into it more. Definitely setting everyone up for the big show down in Falme.

Now that the writers have reached a deal on the strike action, Rafe et al are doing AMAs again, for anybody interested. 

Someone asked about channeling rules, and Sarah Nakamura replied the following which clarifies some things.

   

They must still have some retention of the saidin/saidar divide (to make it necessary for Logain to teach Rand) but that doesn't make it clear if sensing use of the one power is universal rather than gender specific. So I wonder if a channeler can sense any active channeler but only see the weaves for their own side of the power. I wouldn't mind that as a change actually.

Amelia Kensington Blackthorn (deceased)

Victoria Blackthorn

Maxamilian Blackthorn (deceased)

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Age: 22
Talent: Siren

[[warning: this may be triggering, abusive relationships, mutilations, slavery and several other potential triggers]]

The Blackthorn Family

Personality:

Ashton exudes a certain charm without trying. All eyes are drawn to him even if he's trying to not stand out. He's been told he has a silvery aura that attracts people. He has a lyrical voice that sounds pleasant and alluring to whoever is listening, his voice tends to change based on the listener, no two people hear him exactly the same. Ashton is a good listener, and he appears trust worthy and inviting -- he is not a threat.

History:

Life had never been easy for Ashton.  Born to an alcoholic father who beat his wife and killed her only days after having their son, Ashton found himself in foster care for most of his life.  At first he bounced around between homes, which was unusual for a baby since adoption was high among those still too young to remember their past lives.  But Ashton was unique despite his blond curls and baby blues his cries were hypnotic and unnerving.  Nearly everyone who held him to calm his cries found their lives short lived.  It was as if angering the baby had cut their thread of fate short.

It wasn't until Amelia Kensington Blackthorn took him home that he found a place of permanence.  Not that he was looking for permanence at the tender age of 10, but he found it none-the-less.  He wanted a home, a family, people to care for him and love him.  But fortunes decided otherwise.

At first it was do the laundry, help with the cleaning, help the gardener and here are your lessons.  Most of which were given to him by an elder boy, Taylor.  He taught Ashton things no ten year old should ever know.  But if Taylor didn't teach him, and Ashton didn't learn, the consequences were dire -- dire as in potential death dire. 

The first night Ashton refused his lessons and Taylor ran to their mistress Ashton watched as Mistress Blackthorn carved a piece of flesh from his thigh and Taylor held him down. Olivia used some sort of magic to heal his major wounds but there was a mangled scare left in it's place -- a constant reminder of his refusal.  Ashton never refused again.

But that wasn't the last of the mutilations.  Nor the horror he watched as he grew up in the Blackthorn home.

When Ashton was 13 he was sent out into the world to bring home a tender boy or girl that none would miss.  It was harder than he thought, and failure to do so in a timely fashion resulted in the tip of his left pinky being severed from his hand and Mistress Blackthorn kept it in a box above the fireplace of their lavous home with all her other trophies from her children's failures.

Amelia Kensington Blackthorn was not the woman she pretended to be -- she was cruel evil woman whom all the fosters hated.  Hated more than the men who fed upon their flesh.

Taylor was a friend, he was a confidant.  And his loss was felt throughout the house.  On his eighteenth birthday the Blackthorn's threw him a farewell party.  They fed him steak and the finest wines.  They dotted on him.  They fattened him like a pig for weeks before that too.  He'd been on a rigorous work out schedule and feeding times.  And he was pampered and prepped until the day before he came of age.  And on that day the Blackthorns gathered in their shared basement abode and they made all of the Fosters, and servants and brothers and sisters -- they all watched as Ambrose Blackthorn slit the throat of Taylor -- who they all loved and then feasted on his heart right in front of all of them.

It was horrible.  The fosters all cried.  Only Olivia didn't she'd seen too many pass through the doors for death upon the same alter upon which Taylor had died.

As Ashton got older the more he feared the day he turned 18.  The month before Ashton prepared himself for the inevitable.  He'd watched other kids leave the house the same way Taylor had and he expected his lot to be called up.  The week before they did not fatten him.  They did not pamper him.  He slept in the same squalor as the other fosters.  They kept him underfed and sent him out to pull in others even on the day of his 18th birthday. 

He never questioned the reason, but Olivia squirreled him away and spoke in hushed whispers. "You are special.  They won't let you go ever.  We have to stick together."

He wasn't special.  He didn't think.  Though Victoria Blackthorn and in fact most of the other Blackthorns all loved to hear him sing.  Everyone asked him to.  Even on the darkest of nights.  Olivia only smiled at him when he protested.  But she was right.  It was years since he turned 18, and he still went out swept men and women off their feet and brought them home to a horrific death.  Though for them it was painless -- a slip of a poison and they'd drift off into eternal slumber.  It was only horrifying for Ashton and the others as they had the responsibility of butchering the people for storage.

Kids came and went.  No one lived past 18 unless they could continue to help the Blackthorns keep their secrets.  Olivia could heal.  Ashton could sing for their supper.  Ethan -- poor Ethan, he had it the worst.  He was the play toy of the evil child Edmund.  Ethan had been 16 when Edmund began teething on poor Ethan.  And since that day he's been Edmund's sole caretaker.  Edmund was an evil child.  Worse than his grandmother.  And he wasn't even like the others -- he hadn't undergone the change as they called it.  He was just the essence of his mother rolled into one small package -- evil for evil's sake.

The only others older than eighteen were Ava and Isabella.  And no one spoke of the girls -- no one saw them much either.  But every so often -- every 9 months or so you might hear them screaming in pain.  They were nothing but breeding stock.  The boys were kept and pampered.  The girls --- the girls found their way into delicacies.  They were the best cuts of meat.  The favorites of the men of the Blackthorns.  A rare vintage they called it.  All except for Max -- Max kept his daughters -- he had no sons.  The women of the Blackthorn blood was growing.  Victoria was no longer the only natural born.  The house sounded like music when the girls played.  It was Ashton's favorite time.

Now that he was one of the oldest, it was his job to teach the others.  And he did his job dutifully -- teaching them the ways of their trade.  Not all of them were good at seduction, and not all of what they did required it.  Sometimes a precious one could be kidnapped.  Though Ashton did not prefer those methods.  The shadows were their home.  But they all wore faces of proud Blackthorn children fostered by the family for their own good.  No one knew the darkness that lived in the shadows of the slightly rich and famous -- and no one cared as long as it never tarnished their name.  And Amelia Kensington Blackthorn would insure the Blackthorn name would live on forevermore as an elite sophisticated family with a perfect life.

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I'll do a longer review/post later, but that was a fucking awesome episode. Best one of the show so far.

Sleeping had always been hard for Nox.  His first kill saw to that.  And every subsequent death only added to it.  They only got worse when he slept in his own bed on the regular without the comforting scent of his ex or the lull of his breathing.  Before that it had been Aurora when he was in need of comfort and now that was all gone and he struggled to find peace.

His nightmares were exponentially worse after seeing his grandfather's best friend again and the ignition of additional repressed memories horrified Nox. Every face in his dreams now had names -- except one, the random rapist he'd found on the street.  There was no name, only the feelings left behind by his slaughter.  If Nox had the horde then the man would not have been identifiable. 

His nightmares stoked by the horde's instinct obliterated any recognition of those scenes.  The faces were not randomly placed in a sequence of failures.  Nox relived the hunter he was in his nightmares.  They made his previous nightmares pale in comparison.

His mother being ripped to shreds, or ripping Raffe's heart out with his bare hands were nothing compared to the brutal murder of a child and his family.  Things exaggerated by the dream that had really happened.  Things Nox had chosen not to remember somewhere deep inside when he'd lost all memory of who he was.  He was not that person anymore.  He stopped -- he asked questions.  He didn't live by the strict credo of the Atharim any longer.  He was a monster but he wasn't that monster!  He wasn't a cold-blooded killer.

Nox woke every night before his alarm sweating and wheezing from the memories -- often afraid to go back to sleep or see the images floating in his mind.  But tonight was not one of those nights.  He'd taken something to sleep and it dragged him down deep into slumber unable to wake himself from his nightmares just so his body could try to rest.

A litany of scenes played in his minds eye.  On deck was his one and only god killing spree.  The boy at the top of the stairs, Nox's knife jutting into his back.  The blood spilling across his fingers making a sticky mess, looking past him as Uncle Jake smiled proudly at him.  Nox didn't want to see the pride on his face, feel the smile spread his lips.  He hadn't enjoyed the kill, but he had loved the look of pride on Jacob's face.  Someone was glad he existed in that moment. 

Nox shook in horror at his memories at the boy he was, the hunter he might have become.

[[ ooc: Nox doesn't remember his dreams so any dreamwalker is welcome to come play with Nox's nightmares and not affect any of his on going threads  ]]