Unsung heroes: Reconceptualizing a video game as a work of art.

Jessica Hoffmann Davis, EdD (jessicahoffmanndavis.com)
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The doorbell rang just as the doctor at St. Denis (a fictive town in the video game Red Dead Redemption 2) was telling Arthur, (my playable character in the 80+ hour game) that he had incurable tuberculosis. Devastated, I raced to the door, explained quickly to the technician that I couldn’t sign anything for the moment, and rushed back to finish watching that cinematic cut into the regular action of the game.
As I returned to the door, I could hear the technician stifling a laugh. Clearly, he found it amusing that a woman of my advanced age was immersed in a video game. “Which one?” he asked pleasantly.
“Red Dead Redemption 2,” I replied, and his mouth fell open. “You know it?” I asked. “Who doesn’t?” he exclaimed. And of course, he did.
Red Dead Redemption 2 (RDR2) was one of the hottest games of 2018. The New York Times reported it making $725 million in the first three days it opened, making it the “highest grossing opening weekend of any entertainment product—ever” (Suderman, NYT, 11/25/18, p. 8). “I tried it,” he said, “but I don’t really have time to stay with the story with two young children climbing all over me.” Yes, that would be hard. For me, at this stage in my life, my only regular interruption was my little dog who thought the horses, dogs, and other animals so realistically portrayed in Red Dead Redemption 2 were in the room with us. Lucky was also frightened by the sound of shooting guns that admittedly happened frequently throughout the game.
“How’d you get into it?” the technician asked. “My son is Dutch van der Linde.” Dutch is the sophisticated enchanting evil manipulative philosophic idealistic intellectual outlaw whose charisma and treachery are at the center of the game.
“You mean the character in the game is like your son?” “No”, I replied, “the character in the game is my son.” He was baffled. “The actor who plays Dutch van der Linde is my son.” “Oh. you mean, he gave the voice to the animated figure?” Apparently, this guy had never heard of performance capture and how the game’s animation is framed by digital recordings of the actual actions and expressions of the actors. “Performance capture.” I explained, “you know they wear the leotards with electric ping pong balls all over them?” “Oh yeah,” the technician nodded, clearly impressed, unsure by what. “Well, good luck with it,” the young man said, “Hope you win.”
Win? Proof positive that he had never played Red Dead Redemption 2, a game that has no winners or losers and a course of action determined by individual players. For most of the time, as the only playable character Arthur Morgan, (a misguided big-hearted gunslinger), you’re an actor in the theater of the game, riding your horse, tackling missions as directed, trying to do your best. For the rest of the time, you’re the director, deciding what comes next in the narrative, making choices that range from virtuous vs. damnable courses of action to what outfit your character will wear.
Fully within the shape and direction of the narrative, you are co-constructor of a story…or is it a movie? Now and then, with filmed action cut-scenes, it definitely is. Either way, the New York Times calls the game a “work of art” (ibid, p.8); an online fan calls it an “experience”; I call it an “adventure.” No, a “story.” No, a movie in which I am the protagonist and the director. A reader of lines; a writer of outcomes. I agree. “A work of Art.”

Origins

My son, actor Benjamin Byron Davis, worked on the Red Dead Redemption 2 project for five years. Five years of flying back and forth between Los Angeles and New York, memorizing countless lines (the script was 2000 pages long), rehearsing in locations on either coast, performing in black spandex “mo-cap” (motion capture) suits, gun belts at his side, riding a saw horse that would appear as a Tennessee Walker or an Arabian, imagining in a warehouse studio space, the vast landscape of the wild west.
Reportedly, the hardest part of it all was the non-disclosure agreement that the ensemble signed, assuring Rockstar Games that the actors would not reveal a minute of what they were doing prior to release, let alone that they had any knowledge that there would ever be a prequel to the earlier game, Red Dead Redemption.
When the game finally emerged, it was met with thunderous enthusiasm and commentary suggesting it had broken the boundaries between technology and art, exploring territory traditionally reserved for the arenas of dramatic or cinematic arts. Beautifully written, gorgeously acted, and outrageously picturesque, the game welcomes players into an imaginary world in which they can ride their horses all night, explore new directions as the sun rises, pause to camp under a shading tree or alongside a slippery river, feel a gentle rain, marvel at a star studded sky, and inter-relate with characters as close as fellow outlaws in the Van der Linde gang and as mysterious as strangers alongside an unknown road.
The terrain would become familiar, the dead tree marking the road to camp, the tree lined path to the Braithwaite Manor. the train tracks, water ways, and jagged narrow mountain paths. But I knew nothing of this when the Red Dead Redemption 2 ensemble of performance capture artists came to FanExpo Boston at the Boston Convention Center in August, 2019.

The Fans

I had never attended a fan expo or comic-con before. These conventions famously provide a venue where literally thousands of comic book/video game fans can gather. Walking about as if it was another day at the mall, are life sized superheroes, video game characters, and other creative inventions of comic book types. The costumes are pristine and professional looking and even the youngest children look as if they’ve just emerged from their movie trailers down the street.
Walking through galleries of booths selling such collectible objects as original artwork and vintage comic books or giving away trinkets that promote an upcoming game, I was struck by the creativity with which the atmosphere was infused. And when I reached the designated area in which fans could actually meet their favorite video game actors and get an autograph or a selfie, I was astonished by the length of the lines. I knew this happened around the world; Benjamin had already taken part in conventions in Hawaii, Philadelphia, Texas, and Kuwait. But what impressed me greatly, moved some chord within that is devoted to the arts in education, was that practically all of the fans waiting on line to meet the real Dutch van der Linde, had a gift in hand. The gifts were drawings of Dutch from various scenes in the game, or “wanted” posters of the artist’s design-an artistic response to the work of art that was the game; and the artwork itself was first rate. Surely some were more crudely drawn than others, but all the work presented had clearly been crafted with care and affection.

Reflection

Later, Dutch van der Linde (Benjamin) and Arthur Morgan (Roger Clark) sat on a panel and talked about the experience of working on Red Dead Redemption 2, the challenge of learning masses of lines in short periods of time, developing a role over time, working in those spandex suits, and especially the non-disclosure agreement that kept them from telling anyone what they were up to until release. It made the ensemble closer, only being allowed to talk about it all with each other. And then the questions came from the audience. I was sitting between Captain Marvel and I think the Joker, in a room filled with costumed articulate adults framing the most sophisticated questions, reflecting their knowledge of the narrative of the game, the process of production, and its place in the greater context of video game play, culture, and history.
“What other artistic arena was it most like?” “Literature.” The actors replied. “When did Arthur discover Dutch wasn’t all he had thought he was?” and among this interesting back and forth, an occasional fan would ask Arthur to call his horse or Dutch to say out loud the resonant phrase, “I have a plan.” The fans waxed rhapsodic about the performances and I realized two things: 1) the attachment these players felt with the actors from the game was more intimate and profound than the connection audiences have with actors in plays and movies: and 2) the only way I would get to experience my son’s celebrated performance was to learn to play Red Dead Redemption 2.

The Challenge

It was then that I bought a copy of the game (RDR2) and a Play Station 4 (PS4), the video console that enables game play. Installing the PS4 was not complicated but it took me a few days to find the courage to think that I was capable. The console came with a controller with which the player enters and navigates the game and learning how to use that smooth hand-held device took me the better part of two weeks. That was not just because of lack of confidence, not just because I believed that such a device belonged to another generation, but also because the controller is a pretty complicated device. There are so many options for control that I quickly ordered the Red Dead Redemption 2 guidebook which fearsomely is 385 pages long. The print is small. Enter my hand-held large red magnifying glass.
I practiced and practiced but mastery came slowly. My ineptitude with the controller prevented me from keeping my horse on a steady keel and caused me to make awful mistakes. I would unintentionally punch my horse or jump off it when I meant to jump on. I speak in the first person, but “I” in the game is the character of Arthur Morgan, a lovable gun slinger who has made some poor life choices but basically seeks to do good (when he is not shooting and looting bad guys).
Arthur and I are connected by that controller; we decide where he will move, what he will wear, if he will shave his beard, give money to the collection pot for Dutch’s gang, go into a saloon and play poker or check into a train station and pay the bounty on our head for some or another murderous mistake. Consider the intimacy of the relationship when you and he are the lead character in the game. The controller allows that connection.
With each week of game play (1-3 hours a day; occasionally a decadent lot more), my facility with the controller increased and remarkably, as I got more facile, the game gave me more things to do-there seemed a reciprocity of skills and tasks. I felt scaffolded by the game (and that incredibly detailed guidebook) and that allowed me to invest fully in the experience of this alternate world where gangs were disappearing but still shooting it up and revenge was disparaged but still motivating bloodshed.
As we moved from the cold snowy opening scenes of the game throughout seasons of flowering and abundance, with animals (reportedly 200 species) gamboling through meadows and towns, the environment became more detailed and complex. There were entries in Arthur’s journal (drawings and words) to read and interpret, books on shelves that you could open and study, abandoned interiors to explore and loot, Native American lore to inspire, the chill of a wave of industrialization meticulously portrayed as a backdrop to the development and deterioration of characters to whom we grow unreasonably attached.
“Let’s ride.” Is a refrain you hear in the game that informed my play every time I returned to it. My designated chair; the open guidebook and the magnifying glass; my coffee on the table; a few post-its stuck to the mug—reminders about which is a punch which a repel; the smooth feel of the ps4 controller in my hand, and I was ready to play. “Let’s ride.” And ride we did, through a landscape of images and words and music that sustained and engaged. A story line filled with excitement and nuance, chapter to chapter; through decisions that had consequence and proved our autonomy and effectiveness; attending to detail, collecting herbs, horses, weapons—so much to encounter and learn. I came to be unsurprised this game took 8 years to create. It would seem to require more.

The Journey

Meanwhile, my son had announced to his fans that his 75 year old mother was attempting to play Red Dead Redemption 2 and they responded with wonderful comments of support. They were moved I’d taken such trouble to see what my son had done, moved that an “older” person would make the effort to experience “their art.” I was buoyed by their support; they called my efforts “wholesome.” They made me feel welcome and proud of my novice exploration of the world they knew so well. And what did others know of the magic I was discovering in an area the uninformed consider a “waste of time”?
Perusing the topics of some of the very many academic articles on the subject, I noted that while there is persistent concern for the effects of violence in games, scholars in the field recognize a variety of positive aspects. Of interest to me, they acknowledge what I felt first-hand: the experience of “presence” as in actually being there within the game as well as a sense of personal efficacy as I moved along (Vorderer, Bryant, 2006). So much to learn from historical content to usable skills such as manual dexterity, spatial awareness, and the attention to detail inherent to aesthetic education.
As I came to the end of the RDR2 story, final scenes brought me to tears. The characters found the ways they were meant to find but not always what I would have wished for them. Since my son is a veteran actor, I have seen him in many roles, but never as an animated version of himself—a version that visually walked his walk and audibly exploited the dark and playful regions of his wonderful voice. My journey had allowed this encounter with an extraordinary performance of an extraordinary role. And I had also had the extraordinary experience of playing a role; well, sharing a role with the character Roger Clark so marvelously brought to life. I became facile with a venue I had previously only seen from a distance—a grandson ignoring me, attending somehow to this mysterious arena for play. I entered that world, became absorbed, and didn’t hear when I was called for dinner.

In Closing

As I came into the finish line, I texted some reflections to my son:
…the “game” was somewhere between my recollections as a child of playing dolls that I dressed and placed in imaginary scenes and playing cowboys and Indians with those plastic figures whose legs were bowed so they could ride securely on their little plastic horses. But beyond the imaginary part of it all; it was so real. As if I was living in another time when folks travelled over roads that were narrow paths that led over wooden bridges and through rushing streams. And when the weather changed- my first worry was whether Arthur needed a coat or a bigger hat…and we kept going along beautiful trails, rowing wooden boats, jumping on wagons-noting all along stars in a changing sky, old houses that seemed familiar-as if they were from history and not an artist’s pen.…and my attention to detail throughout spilled over into the real world beyond. I would hear voices in the supermarket that sounded like the background voices in RDR2.
How glorious the moment (the last time) when we saw the whole gang (fractured at that point but going off together) following Dutch on his white horse “Let’s ride.” Words cannot recreate for someone who has not entered this world what it contains and inspires. Such a range of emotions and encounters and I have yet to do anything with the watches and rings in my satchel, the playing cards, the dominoes …the letters we received. The world that was created here is rich with possibilities that I have still to explore, but it has taken me months to come from front to back, from ignorant thoughts of “just a video game” to real admiration of a “work of art.”
Like other works of art, we never capture it all in one encounter, we can return and find new things over and over and the questions the work asks us are never fully answered, fraught with possibilities for interpretation. For me, this time, my question is: “where was redemption among these murderous heroes, these virtuous criminals, these friends to the end or not?” These outlaws, dealing death left and right, but so moved by the losses of each other. Evil and goodness all around, no clear lines between. Arthur’s dream, a triumph against the winds and tides of the rest. And my triumph by the way, learning something new for which I had no experience or ability, awakened by the challenges and delight of this extraordinary creation.
What a privilege to play.
References
Suderman, P. (2018), New York Times Nov. 25,p.8/
Vorder, P. & Bryant, J. (2006) Playing Video Games: Motives, Responses, and Consequences. NY: Routledge.

Okay so as we all tend to agree, the V6-V7 fights and the newly formed CRWBY style is pretty neato to witness on screen.
High Octane fights that while many many debates about the new choreography style persist to today for reasons we are all well aware of, I think we can all agree that at the very least by themselves without any comparisons to other works; these fights are pretty dam cool.
However, despite this things can always be improved, and despite the improvements we have gotten there are definitely some things about the animation and the show as a whole that many people have had grievances about and seem to still persist.
In regards to the action, one of these things is definitely the exact fighting styles of characters such as Weiss' fencing and Blake's duel wielding, which while something we still haven't gotten much communication on, I think I'll save that for another time.
For this post however, I really want to talk about the cuts.
A quick disclaimer, I'm not an animator nor have I really animated anything before, this post is mostly from the perspective of being a viewer and how I feel seeing the cuts, as well as knowledge I've gained from video essays and discussion about action scenes in general. But mostly its me mainly expressing my thoughts as a viewer.
So despite the improvements in choreography, one thing that many people tend to have a problem with in the modern fights are definitely how the fights have a lot of cuts whether it be after hits and impacts or literal a cut for every individual movements.
I think one of the worst offenders of this would be [this sequence at 1:56](where Elm has a small scuffle with Blake and Yang) where there area a bunch of cuts happen with every single movement Elm makes when it could have been just one smooth shot. I think the only cut that was really necessary was when Elm dodges Gambol Shroud, outside of that it felt like there was a lack of focus and my vision was being thrown allover the place. This actually goes for most of the Aceops fights where many moves and sequences could have been a singular cut instead of constantly zooming in on limbs.
That is not to say all the shots were bad, for example Marrows tail getting almost singed by Weiss was a nice close up. However most of the cuts in the Aesop fight felt mostly unnecessary, when instead these kinds of close ups and cuts should have been used more sparingly.
There are many fights like this throughout the Maya era... that is all except one fight.
Cinder vs Penny and Winter:
Okay, this fight honestly gets pretty slept on and is severely underrated. The clash of blades between three dual weilders, the satisfying dance of Penny's blades, the fips and acrobatics, it was honestly all topnotch. However, the best thing had to be the cuts.
A lot of people have criticized the fights for not utilizing combos and combos clashes ala Mercury vs Yang, but I think Cinder vs Penny and Winter has so far been the closest to getting combos and combo clashes that we have gotten since a while. (technically BY vs Adam had them too, and they were great but didn't really have great transitions between different combos)
Starting from 1:24 After Cinders starving line, we see several sequences that actually contain not just combo clashes between the combatants, but more importantly allow those sequences to breath before cutting.
This isn't perfect of course, as a couple seconds after the first sequence we get some unnecessary hard cuts from Winter grabbing her second sword, then a hard cut to her face, then a third final cut to her running forward. This is actually a huge problem with a lot of RWBY's fights, another example being almost every maneuver Elm does where we get a triple cut between her face, feet, and hammer. However at 1:31 we get a beautiful sequence where Cinder clashes blades with both fighters and there is not even a single cut throughout this section until the clashes finish.
I believe what we've seen from the indoor portion of the Cinder vs PW fight is a big step in the right direction for cutting the fights. I would say what would make these cuts better is if not only one combo, but multiple combos and clashes happen before cuts, while cuts and heavy closeups are used sparingly for big moments or "oh shit!" moments.
In the end I think that is kind of the issue with the way most of the fights are cut, it tries to make every single body movement an "oh shit look at this!" moment, when in reality we really just need the camera to stay in a steady position (ala fighting games) for most of the clashes, while dynamic camera angles are reserved for the actual "oh shit!" moments (ala Marrow's tail almost getting singed or Yang stopping Mecha Roman's fist back in V2).
So all in all, despite this fight being pretty dam underrated, ironically I think this fight (at least the indoor portion) is a really good example of the fights heading in the right direction when it comes to cuts.
PS: Combo Clashes is a term I kinda just made up on the fly, but it's essentially supposed to be how it sounds, two fighter's attacks clashing. Kinga like in kung-fu movies, or like the majority of Yang vs Mercury.

Apologies in advance, this post is pretty long and there's not much to tl;dr. This also obviously spoils the fights from Volumes 4-7. I have no idea how many people actually realize just how rare hits from bladed weapons actually are in RWBY, I just found it interesting so I made this.
At one point I suddenly realized how rarely blades seem to make contact in RWBY, at least during combat when the fighters still have aura. Blades do of course make contact pretty often once aura is broken and people need to get wounded, like when Qrow gets sliced with Tyrian's stinger or Weiss is impaled by Cinder's spear. But in actual combat other kinds of attacks hit way more often than blades. Characters get punched, kicked, shot, or sometimes smashed with big hammers or other blunt weapons.
So I started going through the show and making notes on how often blades actually make contact. I also had to set some rules on what I considered a "valid hit" for the sake of this post. I actually started taking these notes like two months ago but stopped before Battle of Haven because I had better stuff to do. As it says in the title, this weirdness only seems to appear in Volumes 4-7. In the earlier Volumes characters like Weiss and Pyrrha could land multiple hits with their weapons in a single fight. I started to take more detailed notes at Battle of Haven, so the stuff before that is pretty brief. I included hits from other types of attacks to make it clear just how often those kinds of attacks land hits compared to blades. All direct hit descriptions should be bolded to make them stand out, since the lists got pretty long. Each fight should also have a bolded mention of how many valid hits landed in that fight.
So in order for an attack to count as a "valid hit" as I called them, it must follow the three rules/guidelines I came up with. Sometimes it was also hard to tell if a hit landed or not, even when watching the fight slowed down or frame by frame.

1. The fight must be between named human/faunus characters, mooks and Grimm do not count.
2. In combat while the fighters still have aura and are protected by that aura.
3. Only direct hits with blades count, other parts of bladed weapons such as pommels do not count. Unarmed parries are a grey area and not counted as valid hits. No bullets or energy attacks.

​

Volume 4

RNJR vs Tyrian (V4:E6 - Tipping Point)

• Bunch of kicks and tail strikes
• Tyrian’s arm blades only hit weapons, and Ruby’s scythe and Ren’s blades don’t hit anything. No valid hits!

Qrow & RNJR vs Tyrian (V4:E7 - Punished)

• Tyrian’s tail comes to contact with Qrow’s sword when Tyrian uses it to parry or Qrow parries attacks from the tail, but no valid hits.
• Punches and kicks from both Qrow and Tyrian.
• Tyrian wounds Qrow with his stinger after Qrow’s aura is broken.
• Ruby severs Tyrian's stinger after Tyrian's aura is already broken.
• No valid hits!

Blake & Sun vs Ilia (V4:E9 - Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back)

• Ilia’s weapon may have touched Sun’s face slightly, when Sun falls on his back trying to avoid the weapon.
• Ilia wounds Sun after his aura has been depleted by his semblance.
• No valid hits!

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Volume 5

Menagerie fights (V5:E9 - A Perfect Storm & V5:E10 - True Colors)
Ghira, Sun and Blake vs Albains

• Ghira gets hit by a fireball, which breaks his aura.
• No valid hits!

Blake vs Ilia

• Blake is hit with Ilia’s weapon in whip mode. (Unclear if it’s supposed to have an edge, I’m not counting this as a valid hit.)
• No valid hits.

Ghira, Blake and Sun vs Albains & Ilia

• Ghira is stabbed, but his aura already broke earlier.
• No valid hits.

Battle of Haven fights (V5:C11 - V5:C14)
Entrance and courtyard

• Ruby gets fireballed by Cinder.
• Ruby is entangled in Emerald’s chain and slammed to the floor.
• Qrow is kicked by Raven.
• Weiss is smacked by Vernal’s weapon. Direct hit!
• Weiss is shot in the back by Vernal.
• Weiss is hit with a beam attack from both of Vernal’s weapons, which causes her aura to break.
• Ruby is knocked out by Emerald’s weapon after using her silver eyes. Direct hit! (Unless using silver eyes lowered her aura for a moment, in which case this hit is not actually valid.)
• Jaune slices off a tiny piece of Cinder’s eyepatch when she’s weakened by silver eyes. Not a direct hit since the area doesn’t seem to be protected by aura during the strike. I think getting blasted by SE made Cinder drop her defenses for a moment.
• Cinder steps on Jaune. Kinky.
• Hazel parries Ren’s attacks with his arms, no valid hits.
• Weiss is impaled by Cinder’s spear. Not a valid hit since her aura is already broken.
• Oscar smacks Lionheart’s head with the cane.
• Mercury kicks Yang on her head.
• Hazel punches Oscar, sending the poor boy across the room.
• Hazel block’s Qrow’s attack with his arm, not a valid hit.
• Qrow kicks Lionheart.
• Ozpin smacks the shit out of Hazel.
• Mercury kicks the shit out of Yang.
• Oscar is hit on the shoulder by one of Lionheart’s flaming rocks.
• Qrow gets hit on the fucking spine by Hazel’s lightning punch! You can see Qrow’s skeleton!
• Ruby headbutt’s Mercury’s smug face.
• Ren gets hit by Hazel’s lightning punch, and then by a ranged lightning blast immediately afterwards.
• Ozpin is hit by Hazel’s lightning punch.
• Hazel uses his shocking grasp on Nora. Big mistake.
• Nora hits Hazel with the hammer, blasting him through the wall.
• Blake smacks Adam. Very nice.
• Hazel is impaled by the Queen Lancer summon.
• Sun smacks Adam in the face with a gunchuck.
• Hazel murders the Queen Lancer summon with a ranged fire/lightning blast.
• Blake kicks Hazel in the face, thus avenging the Queen Lancer summon.
• Yang tears Raven apart with words, causing more damage than any other attack in this fight. And yes, that includes Weiss getting impaled and Qrow getting punched in the fucking spine.
• Ruby shoots Lionheart’s weapon, breaking his aura.
• Lionheart gets tentacled to death by the SeeSalem.
• Emerald attacks the good guys with a hallucination depicting a giant floating nightmare Salem. Psychic damage is the real winner in this fight.
• Two valid hits! (Or possibly only one.)

Raven vs Cinder

• Vernal is mortally wounded by Cinder’s Grimm arm.
• Cinder’s Grimm arm is wounded by a shard of her broken weapon. Not a valid hit, aura can’t protect the arm since it’s Grimm. Thanks for the help Raven, maybe you aren’t so bad after all.
• Raven is slammed to a wall and gets some of her aura/magic drained.
• Cinder is smashed by some falling rocks.
• Raven kicks Cinder with both legs. And then does it again.
• Both Raven and Cinder are slammed to the vault floor with the falling rocks, and their auras flicker.
• Raven hits Cinder with a badass lightning facepalm.
• There’s a whole bunch of sword fighting in this battle, but I can’t find a single direct hit. Every strike from an edged weapon is either dodged or parried. No valid hits!

​

Volume 6

Cinder vs Neo (V6C5: The Coming Storm)

• Neo doesn’t use the blade in her weapon, and Cinder doesn’t use her sword until the second half of the fight when they go outside.
• Cinder kicks Neo in the face. Other unarmed strikes may have landed too.
• Cinder’s sword attacks are either dodged or parried, no valid hits.

Maria vs Tock + goons (V6C7: The Grimm Reaper)

• Maria lands a hit on Tock with one of her small scythes, but I’m not sure if I should count this. Tock specifically has a semblance that makes her invulnerable and Maria’s weapon literally bounces off on impact. Definitely a grey area though.
• Tock kicks Maria three times in the fight, the third kick causes Maria’s aura to deplete.
• Tock headbutts Maria and slashes her eyes, blinding the Grimm Reaper.
• Tock’s aura is depleted when her invulnerability minute runs out.
• Maria buries one of her scythe blades in Tock’s back, and then most likely decapitates her with the second scythe.
• One ambiguously valid hit.

​
Blake & Yang vs Adam (V6:C10 - V6:C12)
Chapter 10 - Stealing from the Elderly

• Blake kicks Adam.
• Adam launches his sword at Blakes and hits her head with the sword’s hilt. (The sword doesn’t really have a pommel so I just say hilt.)

Chapter 11 - The Lady in the Shoe

• Adam cuts Blake’s coat with the sword and Blake kicks Adam.
• Blake shoots Adam multiple times, landing two hits but Adam deflects the rest with his sword.
• Adam hits Blake’s head with his sword’s hilt.
• Adam cuts Gambol Shroud’s blade in half.
• Yang enters the fight by landing a direct hit on Adam with a motorcycle.
• Yang parries all of Adam’s cuts with her gauntlet and prosthetic, and lands a whole bunch of punches and kicks on the goatboy.
• Yang lands some more hits on Adam, including a really nice kick to the head.
• Adam uses Moonslice on Yang twice, but she blocks both with her gauntlet and prosthetic arm. The second attack damages her metal arm, but I consider the ranged Moonslice to be an energy attack, rather than an attack with a bladed weapon.

Chapter 12 - Seeing Red

• Blake and Yang double team Adam, landing multiple punches and kicks on him.
• Blake is blasted to a cliff, which causes her aura to break.
• Adam lands two kicks and another strike on Yang. I’m not sure about the third strike, it’s either with the sword hilt or his head, but definitely not with the blade. (at 9:02 in the episode)
• Adam hits Yang with a Moonslice from point-blank range, but I don’t think the blade itself hits.
• Yang blocks another ranged Moonslice, and then catches the blade with her metal hand.
• Yang uses her semblance and lands a solid hit with her gauntlet, breaking Adam’s aura. Her own aura is also depleted immediately afterwards.
• Blake returns to the fight and punches Adam in his stupid face.
• Blake and Yang stab Adam with the broken halves of Gambol Shroud.
• Adam falls to the sea and smashes on the cliff on his way down. Goatboy is super dead.
• Even in a long fight that included two sword-wielding characters, every strike with a blade was either parried or dodged. No valid hits!

​

Volume 7

Blake and Yang vs Robyn (V7C7: Worst Case Scenario)

• All strikes from blades are either dodged or parried. There’s one instance at 12:05 when Blake may have landed a hit, I’m not sure if Robyn parries it with her weapon or not.
• Robyn kicks Blake.
• Robyn hits Blake’s fire clone but shields herself with her weapon.
• Blake kicks Robyn.
• No clear hits, but one ambiguous hit that I’m not sure about.

V7:C11 - Gravity
Ironwood vs Watts

• No blades are involved in this fight, but I’m including it in the list because it helps to show how often other types of attacks land proper hits. Also it’s a really cool fight, so I wanted to watch it again.
• Ironwood punches and kicks Watts, the hits even cause visible shockwaves.
• Ironwood is hit by one of the arena geysers.
• Watts shoots Ironwood with a fire dust bullet, which bounces off of Ironwood’s aura.
• Ironwood shoots Watts with a gravity dust bullet. This blasts Watts off his feet, slams him to the floor and then smashes him to a wall.
• Ironwood kicks Watts to the same wall again, punches him in the face and torso, and finally lifts him by the neck with one hand.
• Ironwood shoots Watts in the right shoulder from behind, which causes his aura to flicker.
• Ironwood grabs Watts in the air and punches him, Watts retaliates with a headbutt.
• Ironwood catches Watts by the ankle and smashes him to the floor, finally breaking his aura.
• Ironwood tackles Watts and they both plummet to the center of the arena. This finally breaks Ironwood’s aura.
• Watts hits Ironwood twice with the butt of his revolver, first in the face and next in the torso.
• Ironwood retaliates with four strikes to the face, two with his revolver and two with his left fist. He then finishes the combo with a punch to the torso.
• The fight is basically over after this. No valid hits from blades obviously, but a pretty brutal fight with both bullets and melee attacks.

Qrow, Clover and Robyn vs Tyrian

• Qrow delivers the first hits with a punch to Tyrian’s face, followed by a knee and a pommel strike to Tyrian’s torso.
• After Clover grapples Tyrian with his weapon, Qrow attacks again. Tyrian blocks his sword strike but Qrow manages to land a second punch to the face.
• Tyrian escapes the grapple and kicks both Qrow and Clover.
• Disarmed Qrow lands a kick to the back of Tyrian’s head.
• Qrow delivers a third punch to Tyrian’s face.
• Robyn shoots a bolt to Tyrian’s face by ricocheting the bolt off of Harbinger, causing Tyrian’s aura to flicker from the hit.
• Qrow lands a kick to Tyrian’s torso, followed by a strike and shotgun blast with Harbinger’s tonfa mode but Tyrian manages to block those with his weapons.
• Qrow punches Tyrian in his midsection and then kicks him.
• Clover wraps Tyrian with a bola and then grabs his arm with the fishing line of his weapon, allowing Qrow to punch the immobilized Tyrian in the midsection again.
• Tyrian escapes the grapple again, and catches Robyn’s bolt with his teeth. The bolt explodes and finally breaks his aura.
• Robyn kicks the prone but laughing Tyrian in the head, apparently knocking him unconscious.
• All strikes from blades are either dodged or parried. No valid hits!

V7:C12 - With Friends Like These
Qrow and Robyn vs Clover

• All strikes from blades are either dodged or parried.
• The only important thing that happens here is Tyrian getting free. Clover launches his hook at Robyn, the hook is deflected and hits the metal bar where Tyrian’s restraints are attached to.

RWBY vs The Ace-Ops

• Harriet kicks Ruby in the head which also smashes Ruby to an elevator door.
• Yang punches Elm in the face.
• Elm retaliates with a headbutt, followed by a hammer strike that sends Yang flying.
• Elm runs through Yang’s explosions without slowing down.
• Elm jabs Yang with the hammer, and then pulls Blake closer and smashes her too.
• Vine grabs Blake with his glowy arms and smashes her to a wall, causing her aura to flicker.
• Yang grabs Elm’s hammer and fires her gauntlets to blast Elm away.
• Blake blows Vine away from his position with Yang’s explosives. Yang then wraps him with a bola and smashes him to the floor, breaking Vine’s aura and knocking him unconscious.
• Weiss blasts Marrow with four fireballs, breaking his aura and knocking him unconscious.
• Harriet smashes Ruby to the floor.
• Ruby wraps Harriet with a bola and punches her head.
• Yang smashes the floor which launches Elm upwards. Yang and Blake then punch Elm from opposite directions, breaking her aura and knocking her unconscious.
• Harriet charges Ruby but hits an ice wall created by Weiss, which breaks Harriet’s aura and she falls unconscious almost immediately.
• No valid hits, blades were barely used.

Qrow vs Clover vs Tyrian

• Clover hooks Harbinger and punches Qrow in the face.
• Qrow tries to hook Clover’s legs with his scythe but Clover avoids it by jumping. However the jump leaves him open and Qrow manages to land a kick to Clover’s torso.
• Tyrian also kicks Clover when he’s jumping.
• Clover punches Qrow in the torso, and Tyrian then kicks Clover in the head.
• Qrow hits Clover with a blast from Harbinger’s shotgun part.
• Tyrian kicks Clover. Qrow punches Clover. Clover punches Qrow.
• Qrow lands a hit with Harbinger’s blade on Clover’s back. Direct hit!
• Clover kicks Tyrian and punches Qrow.
• Clover hooks Qrow’s leg and throws him away.
• Tyrian shoots Clover in the back with a burst from his weapons.
• Clover hits Tyrian’s head with Kingfisher.
• Qrow punches Clover, breaking his aura.
• Tyrian impales Clover with Harbinger. Not a valid hit since Clover’s aura was already broken.
• Almost all strikes from blades are either dodged or parried, but Qrow does actually manage to land a cut with his sword. One valid hit!

V7:C13 - The Enemy of Trust
JNR and Oscar vs Neo

• This is a pretty short fight with very few attacks, so I don’t go into detail.
• No valid hits!

Winter and Penny vs Cinder

• Cinder catches Penny’s fist and throws her through a wall.
• Cinder kicks Winter after a short clash of blades.
• Cinder kicks Winter and then Penny soon afterwards.
• Cinder grabs Winter and Penny and then flies through the wall while holding them.
• Winter stabs Cinder’s Grimm arm. Not a valid hit since the Grimm arm doesn’t have aura.
• Cinder creates a sword and kicks it towards Penny. Penny catches it but the sword explodes.
• Winter’s summoned Manticore hits Cinder with an energy attack. After a brief clash the Manticore scores a second hit with a similar attack.
• Cinder murders the summoned Manticore. She then launches a fireball at Winter, breaking Winter’s aura.
• Winter severs Cinder’s Grimm arm. Again not a valid hit.
• Cinder wounds Winter. Not a valid hit since Winter’s aura was already broken.
• Cinder smacks Winter to an ice wall.
• Ruby arrives and Cinder flees because of the silver eyes.
• No valid hits!

Hello friends!
​
Its been a while since I've made an opinion/theory post, but for far from the first time a certain idea has been brought up to me, one that I wholeheartedly disagree with. So, I would like to here make a rebuttal to it.
In Volume 7 some of the weapons of our cast were upgraded with new abilities and functions. Crescent Rose can spin a new way, Ember Celica can now attach sticky bombs, Crosea Mors can now use different types of dust for a number of effects, and Storm Flower got grapnel hooks.
Some however were left out. Such as how Gambol Shroud only got repaired without any real difference from before, and Magnhild doesn't seem to have had anything done to it as well.
But the focus of this post is Weiss's Multi-Action Dust Rapier; Myrtenaster.
Just like with the two last aforementioned weapons, there doesn't appear to be anything done by Pietro at the beginning of Volume 7 to have improved or upgraded the sword in any way. The model itself has not changed (as all of the upgraded weapons and the repaired Gambol Shroud have) and Weiss does nothing with it we haven't seen before.
Some might believe that in the fight with the centinals in "Ace Operatives", when we do see Ruby's and Yang's new abilities, that we see one for Weiss as well; when she shoots what appears to be an ice shard at of the Grimm to kill it. We have indeed never seen this specifically before, however there have been several comparable time Weiss has shot dust from her weapon before: Several times including in "The Emerald Forest" she blasts a wave of fire from her blade, against Flynt in the Vytal Tournament she fires wind, and in "Battle of Beacon" she makes what appears to be a hardlight shield that repels some White Fang grunts. So while it might be theoretically possible that this specific ability, as unseen before, is new: the most logical conclusion is that it is just a slight variation on what we've seen before. Thus; Myrtenaster has gotten no upgrade
For many, this is fine. Weiss already has the most versatile/adaptable abilities, so she doesn't need an upgrade. Personally, I think its unfair and unfun if only some of the team get upgrades, but this is a completely reasonable viewpoint. Weiss doesn't need an upgrade.
However; where I have issue is the argument that Myrtenaster doesn't need an upgrade because it is "perfect" already.
Firstly, this implies that the weapons that were upgraded already weren't perfect or at least not as much as Myrtenaster. Sure, one can definitely argue the weakness of Crosea Mors and Storm Flower. The former lacks nearly any utility and was the weakest weapon of any of them, the latter likewise lacked utility (though IMO it's being relativity weak has always been more of an issue). Myrtenaster however fits Weiss quite well and has proven incredibly useful.
But I don't think one can reasonably say it's always been more perfect than Crescent Rose and Ember Celica. Ruby and Yang have both used their weapons to great effect in the past, and have both gotten added utility out of them by using the firing to propel themselves and/or the weapon itself. Ruby can fire different types of ammunition and snipe, where as Yang's robotic arm has proven itself a good shield.
I don't think that Myrtenaster can be said to be more "perfect" than these.
Then comes the next part of any of such debate; that is as to what could be done to upgrade Myrtenaster in the first place. Indeed; being the non-transforming weapon of the group as well as a light and elegant one it is more of an issue to upgrade, but I don't think this task near insurmountable. And to see some potential, let us look at ways that Myrtenaster is possibly not so perfect in the first place.
The first of which is that, uniquely for the weapons of the main 4, Myrtenaster very well might not have a ranged ability that doesn't require (as it isn't quite a gun). Using raw dust and the manner we see these glyphless attacks; it is probable that Weiss has to put her aura into the dust to do these; a disadvantage from the cartridge firearms of others. Now this might not seem such a disadvantage; Weiss has numerous ranged abilities, what need does she have for a gun? Well, Weiss is also the character who has run out of aura the most. So if that were to happen again, which is very probable, it leaves her with only a pointy metal stick.
Second isn't as much a failing but simply something that could be improved upon; Myrtenaster appears to only be able to use one type of dust at a time. While not in and of itself an issue; it is something that could be upgraded.
Thirdly; when summoning Myrtenaster is in the ground and unavailable. While of course the best case scenario is that Weiss needn't worry about having another option when summoning, and her fight against Marrow shows she has learned how to better cover her weakness while summoning, she could still have another option. And on this, do note that Weiss can be seen being able to divert at least some attention from her summoning and still able to keep it active; specifically an example is in "Our Way" when she keeps her lancer up for Ruby but has her attention drawn to the still living leviathan.
Now, some potential upgrades:
The least invasive (only a minor visual change on the guard would suffice) and easiest would be to solve the second one; if a second port is added to the weapon then it could potentially fire two type of dust at a time. This could give the ability to more quickly make different types of glyph. Or a combination attack like firing water and lightning dust at the same time. Or, potentially, since we know that certain types of dust are simply combinations of others, she could use more types than she has chambers (like firing fire and water at the same time to make steam dust; which could be used even more quickly to make a smoke screen to hide her summoning like used against Marrow).
Another that could upgrade could solve the third issue, and maybe the second; add a secondary blade like Winter's. It's already been stated that Weiss based her weapon on Winter's, so why not take it just a step farther? Visually the only change might be a slightly extended hilt to the sword, and then it could be pulled out to reveal another blade (like Winter's sword or Hush) or maybe it's even part gun (it would quite small, but better than nothing). I think it could work within her fighting style too.
These are the two that I can think of, but more creative people could probably think of others as well.
As I said at the beginning; Weiss doesn't need an upgrade. She is a very capable fighter as she is. The main reason I want her to have one is mostly that it would be most fun for all the characters to have them at once. It's perfectly reasonable to say that.
But: I will always assert that Myrtenaster isn't more perfect than the weapons that got upgrades, and there is the potential there for upgrades to be made in a logical and reasonable manner.
Honestly, I don't really think I'll convince any of you of anything, but I hope we can have a good discussion none the less :)
Thank you for reading,
Rune
(I apologize for any mistakes)

In honor of a recent poll voting the Godric’s Hollow scene as the thing that makes people ship Harmony the most, I put together some further thoughts on that sequence. This essay will be more of a literary analysis than what I’ve posted here before, pointing to possible hidden meanings and examining potential symbolism, particularly around the wreath of Christmas roses. Much of what I’m going to discuss here is new and—as far as I know—never described before by anyone else in any depth.
A disclaimer at the outset: symbolic analysis in literature is not an exact science. For example, the hippogriff in some mythological interpretations is a symbol of (impossible) love, but the meaning of H/Hr’s ride on Buckbeak has been debated for decades among various shipping camps. I will offer some commentary here on likely connections and possible readings, but I can’t claim all of these were necessarily intended by JKR.
Another thing I will be assuming here is that JKR was conscious of the “charged moment” she was writing for H/Hr in Godric’s Hollow, and that she did feel a romantic “pull” between the characters, as she has admitted in several interviews. After looking at this further, I’m pretty convinced JKR deliberately introduced elements to heighten that connection and perhaps even hinted at a level of intimate desire that thoroughly undermines Harry’s later “like a sister” characterization of the H/Hr relationship. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Let’s begin with a review of the graveyard scene and some comments on possible symbolism and framing devices.

1. The Charged Moment

Then Hermione’s voice came out of the blackness for the third time, sharp and clear from a few yards away.
“Harry, they’re here… right here.”
And he knew by her tone that it was his mother and father this time: He moved toward her, feeling as if something heavy were pressing on his chest, the same sensation he had had right after Dumbledore had died, a grief that had actually weighed on his heart and lungs.
[…]
But they were not living, thought Harry: They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents’ moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.
Hermione had taken his hand again and was gripping it tightly. He could not look at her, but returned the pressure, now taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. He should have brought something to give them, and he had not thought of it, and every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parents’ grave.
As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave: He did not think he could stand another moment there. He put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore’s mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.
---

There are so many powerful elements within this passage, and I’ve discussed the context leading up to this in a previous essay about the H/Hr time alone in the tent. This is the first time Harry cries openly in front of anyone in the books, and the first time he reaches out and embraces Hermione in this intimate fashion. Even on a surface level reading, it is the most profound encounter between any two characters in the entire book series. And yet there’s much more to this scene happening in the background. We know JKR’s favorite author is Jane Austen, and, while JKR may not always live up to the Austen standard for writing, she really outdoes herself in crafting the Godric’s Hollow sequence around this moment.

2. Beyond the Kissing Gate

Contrary to what you may read online, there’s nothing inherently romantic about a “kissing gate.” Its name is derived from the fact that the gate swings only enough to “kiss” (i.e., touch) the inside of the enclosure. They’re common in rural areas to keep livestock from passing, in this case to keep them out of the graveyard.
But that doesn’t mean the gate in Godric’s Hollow is insignificant. H/Hr could have simply “entered the graveyard,” and we would assume they made it through whatever fence or gate may have been around. The very fact that JKR includes this detail and the specific name of a “kissing gate” (a somewhat obscure term) hints that there’s a reason for the description. In this case, the reason is obviously tone.
I repeat, there’s nothing romantic about a kissing gate. Yet notably, the gate isn’t even in view at the end of the “charged moment” quoted above. It’s literally “out-of-sight” and still JKR writes it again, because she wanted to put the word “kissing” into a charged romantic moment between two characters. In case we weren’t already clued into the symbolism going on in this passage when H/Hr polyjuice into a married couple before arriving at Godric’s Hollow, in case we didn’t get a hint when H/Hr arrive and stand “hand in hand” looking at the romantic setting of a snowy Christmas Eve with “glimmering” stars and Christmas decorations “twinkling” and “golden streetlights,” JKR beats us over the head with romance with this “out-of-sight kissing gate.”
And what of this gate? Gates are well-known sources of layered meaning in literature, one prominent example occurring in Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park. Given JKR’s admiration of Austen, she’s undoubtedly familiar with one of the most well-known symbolic uses of gates, where Maria Bertram and Henry Crawford confront a locked gate that functions as a (moral) boundary. Rather than waiting for someone who went to get the key, Maria and Henry eventually dodge their way around the fence, despite Fanny Price’s warning that Maria may hurt herself against (phallic) “spikes” and will “tear her gown.”
We know Austen is writing symbolically here, as Maria herself clues us into the world of double entendres in text, asking Henry whether he means something “literally or figuratively.” Maria navigates the gate crossing with Henry, her (hymeneal) gown still “alive and well,” only to go beyond where they had promised Fanny and to disappear around a knoll. Fanny stays behind, not traversing the locked gate, and is later shocked to find that the couple had been “spending their time pleasantly” sitting down under the trees. The act of going beyond the locked gate and out of sight foreshadows the later moral transgressions of Maria and Henry, who end up having an affair and bringing shame to their families.
Like Maria’s explicit entreaty to consider words “literally or figuratively,” so JKR has Hermione invite us into the symbolic elements at play in Godric’s Hollow as she sees a biblical quotation on the Potter headstone and gently assures Harry that it isn’t a “Death Eater idea,” despite its apparent surface-level meaning. She knows it’s an allusion, as so many things around them carry hidden meanings that night. The graveyard scene is obviously quite different from the Mansfield Park one (and this gate is not locked), but I bring up the Austen scene to note the importance of gate imagery in JKR’s influences. When two characters enter a gated area alone, there is likely to be some transformation between them before they depart.
Indeed, the choreography and characterization of some elements of the graveyard scene somewhat parallel the excitement and gambits of a classic tryst sequence. Harry hasn’t even revealed his true aim for coming to Godric’s Hollow—to see his parents—and yet Hermione knows precisely what he wants, spotting the graveyard before he does. Harry’s mixture of anticipation and fear is overcome by her eagerness:

Harry felt a thrill of something that was beyond excitement, more like fear. Now that he was so near, he wondered whether he wanted to see after all. Perhaps Hermione knew how he was feeling, because she reached for his hand and took the lead for the first time, pulling him forward.

And when they pass beyond the kissing gate, once again they encounter a barrage of beautiful imagery (a “blanket of pale blue” snow flecked with dazzling colors from the stained glass in the church) as they create their own paths through the deep snow.
Harry then talks too loudly, and Hermione begs him to be more quiet as they head out into the darkness together. Yes, she’s looking out for their safety, but it adds a degree of secrecy and intimacy to the whole endeavor. She then breaks off by herself, only to call out, and for Harry to seek her with “his heart positively banging in his chest.” He takes off on his own, maintaining “excited trepidation,” only to be called back to her once more. Finally, the lights go off in the church, leaving the two of them in utter darkness alone together, when “Hermione’s voice came out of the blackness for the third time,” and he joins her.
Of course, H/Hr are definitely not going for a flirtatious Victorian gambol in the hedges here, but Harry’s excitement to approach Hermione again and again makes for a notable device to build anticipation. After all, Harry has actually gone beyond the gate into this dark graveyard in search of love—the lost love of his parents. Instead, all he finds is disappointment. First, he encounters Dumbledore’s sister’s grave and is appalled that Dumbledore never told him about anything or even thought to bring him there. Feeling rejected by Dumbledore, he still seeks his parents, only to realize that their decaying bodies can also offer him no comfort.
Yet Harry does find love in the graveyard that night, in the form of his best friend, who takes his hand and grips it tightly, who reads his mind yet again and produces a wreath to lay upon the grave. And Harry reaches out to this girl, and holds her intimately as they walk together through the darkness, the gate so far away that it is no longer in sight, yet its “kissing” still framing the closing of the chapter.
Notably, the next chapter picks up a bit later when they have returned near the entrance of the graveyard, still holding on to each other. If this were a Jane Austen novel, with two characters left alone in the darkness in an intimate embrace out of sight beyond a gate, we know precisely what they would have been doing with all the time during the chapter break. I don’t mean to imply that H/Hr were actually kissing here, only that the staging suggests great intimacy and lapsed time while they retain that intimacy. What may have gone on is left to the reader’s imagination, as Austen would leave it.
JKR in fact adopts this Austen-like hinting several times, as she’s writing a children’s book and can’t actually describe explicit romance. For example, when Harry earlier in DH8 thinks “back to afternoons spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds,” we’re surely meant to understand that more happened than a simple walk around the lake with Ginny or something. Of course, it’s a much taller order to read something into this time gap in the H/Hr moment in the darkness. Frankly, I don’t think they kissed here; but JKR’s framing and word choices are intended to make the reader think that they had the opportunity and at least might want to.
All of this potential meaning, though, is heightened quite a bit by the details of that wreath Hermione conjures for Harry, to which we’ll now turn. I’ll offer five different levels of potential interpretation, each one hinting at even greater intimacy within the H/Hr relationship. Not all of these meanings are likely intended, but all are possible given the context. And we know from a Pottermore article that JKR paid close attention to her choices of flowers and plants (and she elsewhere has discussed doing research in treatises on this topic).

3. Herbological Interpretation

When many readers see the wreath of “Christmas roses,” they probably assume they are just some variety of rose that would look good on a Christmas wreath. And if the flowers symbolize anything, it’s likely just love, as most roses do.
Yet Christmas roses aren’t actually roses, but rather an evergreen known as a hellebore that is botanically related to the buttercup. They bloom in winter and sometimes even in the snow, so they would be an appropriate flower for the setting, a traditional choice that had been cultivated for the holidays in Victorian times. Harry actually encountered the hellebore earlier in OotP12 in Snape’s potions class, where it was an ingredient in the Draught of Peace, meant “to calm anxiety and soothe agitation.”
On the most superficial level, the Christmas roses could be seen as a symbol of calming Harry’s anxiety at the moment, as well as perhaps metaphorically as a peaceful flower to place on a grave. (Snape also notes that the potion can induce an “irreversible sleep” if not brewed correctly.)

4. Legendary Interpretation

But something deeper is going on with these flowers. The Christmas rose gets its name from a medieval legend about a shepherd girl named Madelon, who was present at the Nativity of Jesus but was poor and had no gift to bring to him. She wept in sorrow and, like Harry, in some versions of the tale looked about wishing there was a flower among the frozen landscape to offer to Jesus. Depending on the version of the tale, her tears either miraculously bloomed into Christmas roses as they hit the ground due to her devotion to Jesus, or the angel Gabriel came and struck the frozen ground to grow them in the middle of winter. Either way, Madelon gathers the flowers and presents them as a gift to the baby Jesus.
After independently discovering this legend myself, I happened upon Beatrice Groves’s interpretation of the graveyard scene, which relies heavily on the Madelon story. (Groves is the author of the book Literary Allusion in Harry Potter.) While I agree with Groves that there are certainly parallels, I think she fails to go far enough and doesn’t fully unpack the roles here, merely pointing toward an interpretation of Harry as the weeping Madelon and Hermione as the angel who brings forth the roses.
While that’s possible, it overlooks the pervasive religious imagery surrounding the Godric’s Hollow scene, with its multiple biblical quotations (and Harry’s later vision from Voldemort about the attack on his parents, with its crucifixion-like overtones). These begin to point to Harry as a Christ-like child figure, a savior of the wizarding world who will ultimately come back from the “dead” to fight the final battle. As the focus of this essay is on the H/Hr relationship, I won’t delve into the deep religious symbolism (which JKR has alluded to in interviews). But we should note that it is Hermione—the young non-noble “mudblood” girl, like the lowly shepardess—who brings forth the flowers to offer to Harry, the Christ-like child of the House of Potter in this Christmas Eve “family gathering,” as a symbol of her boundless devotion and connection to him. (The roles are made clear here not only by Harry’s Jesus parallels, but also by the common association of the lily—Harry’s mother’s name—with the Virgin Mary.)
In any case, the Madelon legend is all about deep devotion and how it allows someone to conjure flowers from nothing in the dead of winter. At a minimum, these flowers therefore likely represent Hermione’s profound commitment and dedication to Harry.
But we’re only just getting started….

5. Floriographical Interpretation

We know JKR was rather obsessed with flower names and meanings, as referenced in the Pottermore article linked above. In Victorian times, this was known as the “language of flowers” or floriography. While a gift of a lily represented purity and sweetness, a gift of a petunia signaled resentment and anger. (Get it? Lily vs. Petunia!) Given how JKR apparently looked up other flowers and plants, it’s hard to believe she didn’t happen upon the meaning of the Christmas rose when given from one person to another. And 19th-century floriographical manuals are nearly unanimous in the message of the Christmas rose, which is “relieve my anxiety.” (Yes, that specific phrase.)
But this isn’t about relieving Harry’s anxiety and sadness. The traditional meaning of Christmas roses is roughly akin to a modern “we need to define our relationship” conversation. The sender wants to know whether the recipient returns affection and love. While ultimately these flowers are going on a grave, they are first produced by Hermione as a wreath for Harry.
Consider what has occurred between Harry and Hermione in the past weeks. Ron left, accusing Hermione of “choosing” Harry, and the H/Hr friendship suddenly becomes fraught with tension. Hermione avoids Harry the first day, deliberately dropping his hand, only to walk away from him and cry. She needs to place distance between them, lest Ron’s accusation be seen to be true. And Harry maintains that distance too, wanting to comfort her but unable to, again likely because of Ron’s accusation.
As I discussed in another essay, Harry and Hermione’s hand-holding is a profound symbol of their connection throughout DH. For Hermione to drop Harry’s hand is to demonstrate that something has become deeply broken between them. Although they continue to work well together by day in the tent, some tension remains for weeks until Harry finally approached Hermione with great trepidation to propose this trip to Godric’s Hollow.
While things seem to be going better between them now, it is a rather recent development, and they still have never discussed Ron or their relationship. And although Harry was the one to start the discussion about Godric’s Hollow, Hermione has been the one pushing for everything since then—getting him to train to apparate under the Invisibility Cloak, arranging the polyjuice potion, then taking his hand to lead him forward as they walk through the village. She’s been the one driving their renewed relationship so far.
When Hermione reaches out and grips Harry’s hand in the graveyard, she is again clearly signaling her commitment to their friendship, their bond symbolized through tightly entwined hands that recur again and again in DH. But are they still merely friends? When Hermione has abandoned everyone in her world—including her parents and letting her love interest walk away into the rain—because of her devotion to Harry, she knows she’s revealed all to him. Perhaps Ron’s accusation finally raised the question for her about Harry—”What are we to each other?” Could he possibly love her as dearly as she loves him?
A bunch of Christmas roses then bursts forth from her wand, proffering something Harry needs, a desire she somehow instinctively is able to know and satisfy, but also carrying the encoded Victorian message: “Relieve my anxiety.”
And Harry does. He immediately puts his arm around her shoulder, and she puts her arm around his waist, and they walk together in the darkness as lovers do, their relationship newly defined.
(To be clear, I am not suggesting Hermione or Harry are aware of the message encoded in these flowers, only that JKR likely was, given her interest in treatises on herbology and floriography.)
But wait… there’s more.

6. Hagiographical Interpretation

Christmas roses are traditionally known by another name: the Saint Agnes’s Rose, an association from medieval times and commonly referenced in floral literature. There are several associations for Saint Agnes, but of all the saints, she is the one most commonly affiliated as a patron saint of betrothed couples. The Eve of Saint Agnes (which falls on the 20th of January) in folklore is when girls could supposedly perform a ritual to see their future husband in a dream or vision.
While H/Hr visit Godric’s Hollow on Christmas Eve (not in January), it still seems rather poor news then for Ron/Hermione fans in this scene, when a symbol of Saint Agnes is shared in those flowers. I hope no one has forgotten that Hermione used polyjuice so that H/Hr now appear as a married couple in this scene—is this a vision of Hermione’s future?—and that they are here on Christmas Eve to satisfy Harry’s “dearest wish” to visit his parents. I’ve speculated in my tent arc essay that Harry’s initial approach in the tent to Hermione about this trip—preparing her a satisfying dinner, leaving off the Horcrux so they would both be clear-minded, then approaching her with great care and trepidation while she seems to be oblivious to his advances, until he finally manages to get the question out, after which they’re both happy with excitement and planning—seems to oddly parallel the tension and dynamics of a kind of proposal scene.
Again, I’m not claiming that it was a literal proposal, only that the dialogue is perhaps somewhat staged to resemble one, just as the Godric’s Hollow graveyard sequence is choreographed as two potential lovers first rushing in through a gate with excitement and anxiety, only to separate a few times and then finally rejoin to be together alone in the darkness as Harry ultimately realizes where his true love lies.
Consider the dark place that Harry visits in his mind in the graveyard, contemplating whether he might be better off under the ground with his parents. What pulls him back from this morbid fantasy? Hermione’s hand. The hand that grips him tightly and pulls him again and again through darkness in battle, even apparating him repeatedly in midair to save him. The hand that he will ultimately grab onto repeatedly in the final battle, drawing on her strength, her love, and her devotion for him. And tonight, in Godric’s Hollow, when the tears fall freely for the first time, it is Hermione who brings his mind back from death. It is Hermione who will ultimately pull him away from Voldemort’s mind at Malfoy Manor. It is Hermione who will be the first name on his list of those he loves when he wishes he could see them for one last time before marching to his death.
At Bill and Fleur’s wedding, it is her face he sees, turning around with tears flowing when the vows are said. They may not be literally betrothed, but they might as well be. Hermione may have sealed her fate with his in tears that wedding day, but Harry is now able to break out of his death obsession as his own tears fall in Godric’s Hollow: taking her in his arm, choosing the warmth of his best friend and her beating, loving heart over the coldness of the graves surrounding him. After all the anticipation and longing to finally come to that graveyard, he can’t stand another moment there, only wanting to walk away with Hermione in his embrace.
But the potential connection to Saint Agnes doesn’t just end with marriage symbolism. Agnes suffered a horrific martyrdom: first threatened with rape, then tortured horrifically for her devotion to Christ, and (according to some stories) ultimately killed by being stabbed in the throat. As an oft-quoted passage in Victorian times about the Christmas rose notes:

Even as the Flower of St. Agnes is whiter than other blossoms, so was the purity of St. Agnes fairer than most virgins; as the Flower bloometh in the season of winter, when there are few others, so did the saintly virgin flourish in the winter of adversity, and brave the storms of persecution, with few companions in excellency.

Hermione has always been a formidable partner at Harry’s side, but in DH her powers do indeed blossom in this “winter of adversity,” as her quick thinking and encyclopedic knowledge of magic save Harry again and again. It becomes a thematic element after Godric’s Hollow for Harry to praise her with superlatives. After she apparates them away in mid-air after the encounter with Nagini later that night, even though Harry is upset about his wand, he calls her “incredible” as she smiles at him. After the encounter with Xenophilius, where she comes up with a truly incredible plan on the spur of the moment and Harry places his complete trust in her, he “fervently” tells her that he doesn’t know what he’d do without her as she “beams” in reply.
And then, like Saint Agnes, after Hermione is threatened with rape by Greyback, after she is tortured for her association with Harry at Malfoy Manor, after Bellatrix was ready to kill her by stabbing her in the throat, Harry again is astounded by her ability to come up with a lie in the midst of torture, praising her as “amazing” as again she smiles in reply. Hermione is and will always be his closest companion, the one who saves him, his anchor, someone who can turn his mind from death, someone worth living for….

7. Freudian Interpretation

At this point, some readers may be wondering if we’ve put too much emphasis on this wreath in the graveyard scene, but its symbolic importance is signaled when it appears again in Harry’s dreams on the following night:

Harry’s dreams were confused and disturbing: Nagini wove in and out of them, first through a gigantic, cracked ring, then through a wreath of Christmas roses. He woke repeatedly, panicky, convinced that somebody had called out to him in the distance, imagining that the wind whipping around the tent was footsteps or voices.

Like the repeated reference to the kissing gate, JKR draws our attention back to this wreath. This dream is not a vision of Voldemort’s (as many of Harry’s “dreams” have been in the books), but his own subconscious. While there have been many analyses of Harry’s dreams, few have commented on this one, and no one quite seems to know what to do with the wreath. The two analysts I’ve seen who have mentioned it postulate that it’s merely a symbol of Harry missing out on family holidays (a rather odd reading) or that it was a hint that Nagini in the guise of Bathilda Bagshot may have observed them in the graveyard.
I suppose the latter is possible, but it’s hard then to see what that has to do with the imagery of the ring in the dream. Some have argued that the “gigantic, cracked ring” is emblematic of Marvolo Gaunt’s ring, though it was not the ring itself that was cracked but rather the resurrection stone upon it. And Harry has had dreams of Horcruxes before, but yet again, we are left with no rationale for the wreath. Given that Harry laid it upon his parents’ grave, it’s possible that it’s connected to Harry’s vision of his parents when they were threatened and killed.
But we’ve seen so many different possible symbolic links between the wreath and Hermione that it’s difficult not to associate its appearance in a dream with her, as she was the one who created it. And maybe Harry’s subconscious is again feeling her threatened by Nagini: perhaps the “gigantic, cracked ring” parallels Bathilda Bagshot’s broken body, where the snake emerges from her dead neck only to come after Hermione. The previous night he had repeatedly grabbed onto Hermione desperately to shield her from the snake’s attacks:

Everything was chaos: [The snake] smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Harry jumped over the bed and seized the dark shape he knew to be Hermione—
She shrieked with pain as he pulled her back across the bed: The snake reared again, but Harry knew that worse than the snake was coming, was perhaps already at the gate, his head was going to split open with the pain from his scar—
The snake lunged as he took a running leap, dragging Hermione with him; as it struck, Hermione screamed, “Confringo!” and her spell flew around the room, exploding the wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back at them, bouncing from floor to ceiling; Harry felt the heat of it sear the back of his hand. Glass cut his cheek as, pulling Hermione with him, he leapt from bed to broken dressing table and then straight out of the smashed window into nothingness, her scream reverberating through the night as they twisted in midair….

So perhaps Harry’s dream is merely one of concern for Hermione. But there’s one more parallel that Hermione has to Saint Agnes that we haven’t yet remarked on. Aside from her association with betrothed couples, Agnes is also one of the primary patron saints of female virgins. (In the past, of course, betrothed women were assumed to be virgins, so these are related.) The purity of color for her white Christmas rose was also considered to be a symbol of chastity.
With that in mind, it now bears remarking that Harry’s dream is a textbook example of Freudian symbolism. Snakes in dreams are regarded as phallic symbols, but Harry’s dream goes so much further that its most straightforward interpretation is shockingly explicit. In his dream, the snake is weaving “in and out” of first a cracked ring, and then the (intact and unbroken) ring-like wreath of Christmas roses, a wreath associated with Hermione, a wreath composed of flowers symbolizing virginity.
I truly don’t it would be possible for JKR to sneak into a children’s book a more overt Freudian symbol of literal defloration, of an initial sexual encounter. This image bubbles up from Harry’s subconscious only hours after that second “charged moment” JKR identified when Harry closes his eyes as Hermione touches his hair, and on the same day that he gazed so deeply into her eyes that he registers their color for the first time while he looks at her. What then pulls him from that dream is the feeling that someone was calling out from the distance, footsteps that we later find out to have been Ron’s.
Harry and Hermione then agree in the middle of the night to flee from those footsteps. And JKR seems so pleased with her Freudian dream imagery that she runs a little sexual innuendo victory lap in the ensuing passage. Before you accuse me of reading too much into this, recall that JKR is someone who has Ron crack a Uranus joke not just once but twice (GoF13, OotP25) and has recurring gags about Aberforth Dumbledore’s inappropriate relations with goats (GoF24, too many to count in DH). She also learned her trade from reading Jane Austen, whose spikes and gown tearing were remarked on earlier as a sexual symbolism in Mansfield Park and who goes so far in that novel as to joke about sodomy in the British navy, when Mary Crawford declared: “Certainly, my home at my uncle’s brought me acquainted with a circle of admirals. Of Rears and Vices, I saw enough. Now do not be suspecting me of a pun, I entreat.”
What then do we make of the paragraphs immediately after Harry’s dream?

Half an hour later, with the tent packed, Harry wearing the Horcrux, and Hermione clutching the beaded bag, they Disapparated. The usual tightness engulfed them; Harry’s feet parted company with the snowy ground, then slammed hard onto what felt like frozen earth covered with leaves.
“Where are we?” he asked, peering around at a fresh mass of trees as Hermione opened the beaded bag and began tugging out tent poles.

While Harry previously experienced a sense of compression during apparition, there’s nothing typical about the phrasing here. “Tightness” is not a common word for JKR, appearing only once elsewhere in the book series. (I can give statistics, but just trust me that this is an unusual choice for JKR. I compared her word usage to the British National Corpus and Google Ngrams, and while she overuses the adverb “tightly” compared to typical written British English, she elsewhere appears to avoid “tightness,” preferring other words and phrasing.)
And despite the fact that they’ve spent months in the tent, this is the only time anyone handles the tent poles. (They are only referenced once elsewhere in DH14 as even being present as part of the tent.) Certainly this is the only time in canon that we see Hermione handling any poles—tent or otherwise—much less “tugging” on them. It truly should make the reader wonder, “Why now, JKR?” Like the earlier appearance of the repeated “kissing gate” phrase, it begins to strain credibility to believe this is all unintentional coincidence.
And what happens next, when they successfully flee from Ron, the one person who could disrupt the intimacy that has emerged since Godric’s Hollow? After Harry has a textbook Freudian dream about a snake moving “in and out” of a ringed object decorated with flowers that are connected with Hermione and symbolize virginity, and after they spend the night with Hermione “tugging” on poles and having “tightness engulf them,” they seemingly forego their usual watches to simply spend the day inside the tent huddled up in (post-coital?) bliss as Hermione takes care of Harry:

Here too snow lay on the trees all around and it was bitterly cold, but they were at least protected from the wind. They spent most of the day inside the tent, huddled for warmth around the useful bright blue flames that Hermione was so adept at producing, and which could be scooped up and carried around in a jar. Harry felt as though he was recuperating from some brief but severe illness, an impression reinforced by Hermione’s solicitousness. That afternoon fresh flakes drifted down upon them, so that even their sheltered clearing had a fresh dusting of powdery snow.

Note that the “wind” they are now “protected from” was what carried the voices and footsteps Harry wanted to get away from, the symbol of Ron’s return. What one chooses to see in the imagery and symbolism and likely double entendres is up to the individual reader. (For those H/Hr shippers who wish to claim “tent sex is canon,” this is the best I can do, and these references are my gift to you.)
My personal reading is that these are likely deliberate but meant to be part of the tone that hints at something that was imminent (not actual) between H/Hr, something only disrupted when Ron returned. But the snake imagery in the dream was obviously disturbing to Harry, a symbol of Voldemort and evil carrying into this sexualized context. As I argued in a previous essay, the Horcrux vision seen by Ron and Harry then repeats this snakelike imagery around Riddle-Hermione, creating an even more unsettling and distorted version of her that Harry witnesses.
The Horcrux has recently seen into Harry’s heart, so much so that Hermione had to magically cut it away from his chest after the Bagshot encounter. Moreover, the Horcrux knows what Harry feels about Hermione, knows how the powerful love between them is a threat, and again chooses to show Harry a sinister sexualized image of Hermione becoming snakelike, the temptation of lust now associated again with evil.
And Harry recoils, the “like a sister” excuse dropping from his lips as he soothes Ron, the subconscious murmurings and cravings for physical closeness to Hermione (at least temporarily) reined in.

8. The Purity of Heroic Love

At this point, I’m sure many readers of this essay are asking, “How much of this is really there? And if JKR really wanted to convey this much about H/Hr, why not just tell us outright that Harry’s feelings about Hermione were changing?”
To the first question, as I mentioned at the outset, literary symbolism is difficult to evaluate. I certainly think it’s unlikely that JKR could have intended all of the meanings for the Christmas roses I mentioned. But given their recurrence, there has to be more to those flowers than a mere graveside decoration conjured by Hermione. There are too many obvious symbolic elements like the kissing gate and the polyjuiced appearance for it all to be mere coincidence.
My main reason for arguing that at least a significant portion of this symbolism was intentional is partly because JKR seemed to really want to talk about this passage, again and again in interviews. Barely a year had passed after DH came out before she brought up the “charged moments” in an interview, stating “it could have gone that way” with H/Hr, knowing the stir it would cause. It’s almost as if she wanted readers to be drawn back to these passages, to read them again and see something they missed. And then in the Emma Watson interview, where JKR claimed she wanted to talk about Hermione as a character with Watson, she instead questioned the relationship with Ron and then steered the conversation immediately to H/Hr moments.
As to why she chose to bury all of this in symbolism rather than simply tell us that Harry is in danger of falling (or already is) in love with Hermione, JKR has spoken elsewhere of her instinct that a true love triangle would overburden the narrative. The Harry Potter books at heart are not romances. They are epic mystery and adventure stories surrounding a Trio of characters.
Any further digression into a love triangle would have drawn focus away from the War and likely destroyed the Trio irrevocably. If Ron found out, he would never be able to be feel secure around them again or in his relationship with Hermione. And if they didn’t tell Ron, readers would be left focusing on the fact that Harry carried feelings for his best friend yet hid them from his other best friend. That’s not what we expect of the heroic characters JKR is setting up in Harry and Hermione. We’d be left wondering about infidelity when Harry reached out for Hermione’s hand later, rather than seeing their bond as a symbol of strength.
Harry and Hermione are the epitome of a love that is so pure and deep that it can drive out Voldemort, with a devotion that knows no bounds. Harry is so worried about Hermione in the encounter with Nagini that he spends all the time protecting her, rather than fighting or defending himself. Later, Hermione submitted to torture rather than reveal anything about Harry. They have the hearts of heroes: two characters who always instinctively reach for each other. As much as I wish for H/Hr to be together, I personally would not want a canonical love triangle unless H/Hr would be endgame, as it would undermine the nobility of their connection within the greater narrative. That’s just my opinion, but I assume it went into the calculus of JKR’s decision to write in Austen-like symbolism and hints rather than expressing overt feelings in Harry’s internal monologue or even having a true romance between them. I am of course deeply saddened that she stuck with the canon pairings, but after looking into this further, I’m ever more convinced that she did feel strongly about the H/Hr connection and wanted to find a way to showcase it, most powerfully in the greatest passage from the entire series in Godric’s Hollow.

Joker tells two different stories to both Gambol and Racheal Dawes about how he acquired those oh-so beautiful scars of his and eventually became the Joker. However, they both contradict each other.
Does he have a definitive origin or is he just an insane man?

Just wanted to do this for fun. Let me know if I missed any weaknesses!

• Ruby: Crescent Rose is impractical for fighting humans, bad at close-range combat in general, Silver Eyes take time to activate and are only effective on Grimm, otherwise they might as well just be a high-powered flashbang.
• Weiss: Summons take time to come out, can't take a hit, low stamina so she gets tired faster than the others, suffers from tunnel vision due to lack of situational awareness.
• Blake: Doesn't do much damage outside of (maybe) Aura slashes, can't take a hit, is vulnerable to psychological warfare, though far from helpless, she is definitely easier to fight and defeat when unable to rely upon stealth/hit-and-run/ambush attacks.
• Yang: Slowest member of Team RWBY, ranged attacks aren't all that effective so she isn't much of a threat when not in punching distance, semblance can easily be a double-edged sword, temper can be exploited into causing her to make tactical errors (though this is considerably harder to exploit post-V4).
• Jaune: Slow, lacks agility, doesn't do much damage without greatsword, no ranged attacks outside of Gravity Dust upgrade in V7.
• Nora: Hammer strikes are predictable (and particularly physically strong opponents such as Hazel can catch Magnhild mid-swing and toss her aside), grenades are powerful but imprecise and have less range than bullets, semblance effectiveness depends on how much electricity she can get and can't be used on command (unless she remembers her upgrade in V4).
• Pyrrha: Opponents who do not use metallic weaponry remove one of her primary tactics, but other than that, no easily exploitable weaknesses.
• Ren: Can't take a hit, low stamina so he gets tired easily, does little damage outside of Aura palm strikes from V1, particularly physically strong opponents (such as Elm in V7) can turn Stormflower's grappling hooks against him.
• Qrow: Misfortune semblance endangers allies, forcing him to fight solo, which means if he gets overwhelmed, he likely won't have backup.
• Raven: None (as far as I can tell).
• Ozpin (V1-V3): None (as far as I can tell).
• Oscar: Overall weak unless Oz takes control, no ranged attacks, no semblance (yet).
• Ironwood: Once out of bullets, must resort to melee combat, mobility is hampered without black gun (it shoots gravity dust bullets).
• Ace-Ops:
  • Clover: Little direct damage potential on his own, over reliance on Good Fortune semblance means if his Aura is broken, this creates problems.
  • Harriet: No ranged attacks, aggressive and overly competitive nature can cause her to suffer from tunnel vision.
  • Vine: Little direct damage potential on his own.
  • Elm: Semblance is useless when not standing on solid ground.
  • Marrow: Stay only works in one direction at a time, relatively inexperienced compared to the rest of the Ace-Ops.
• Cinder: Arrogance causes her to underestimate foes, sadistic and cruel nature can cause her to waste time gloating or making foes suffer instead of just killing them right then and there, Grimm arm is unprotected by Aura and vulnerable to Silver Eyes.
• Watts: Much weaker when not in an environment whose technology he can manipulate, only has 20 bullets, so particularly attentive opponents can pay attention to how many shots he's fired, and once he's out, his offensive potential is severely limited.
• Tyrian: Psychotic nature can be used against him (he caught Robyn's crossbow bolt and didn't realize it was explosive until it was too late), tail is vulnerable to ranged grappling weapons (Kingfisher, Gambol Shroud), can only take on 1 or 2 adversaries each approaching his skill level before being overwhelmed.
• Hazel: Slow, lacks agility, not much skill so a fighter who can match him in strength and outskill and outspeed him can beat him (I'm looking at you Yang), no ranged attacks without Dust, said Dust Crystals are a weak spot, semblance can be a double-edged sword.
• Mercury: Relies upon a flow/rhythm to his kick combos, so breaking that flow/rhythm will shut down his offense and weaken his defense, no semblance to fall back on when fighting skills are insufficient, metal legs are vulnerable to magnets (and theoretically, EMP).
• Emerald: Semblance requires she stand still and concentrate, semblance can only comfortably affect one person at a time, so it can be countered the way Weiss countered Marrow's Stay, much more potent when able to use ambushes, hit-and-run, and stealth, if the chains on Thief's Respite were broken or cut, it essentially destroys her weapon.
• Neo: No ranged attacks, counterattack based fighting style is less effective against enemies with defensive fighting styles or enemies who are aggressive, but cautious at the same time, given how she split JNPR up, she's better in 1v1 battles than against groups.
• Roman: No semblance to fall back on if fighting skills are insufficient.
• Adam: Depends on Wilt for his semblance and fighting style, so if it were taken from him, he has no semblance and very limited fighting potential since all he has now is Blush, vision is compromised due to branded eye (he has a blind spot at all times).

Hey guys, hope everyone is staying safe and well. Quick HH here, one which my friends said was played poorly on my part but I personally thought it was okay. Came here to see your thoughts.
Hero in BB with AdTc $180 eff, V1 in SB covers, V2 on BU covers. $0.50/1. V1 is loose aggro player, knows the game but likes to gambol and we’ve all played a lot together.
V2 opens $2 from BU, V1 3bets to $6, H flats (I generally wouldn’t do this against most players, but he’s 3bet like 50% tonight so I’m okay flatting this hand here), V2 flats.
(18) Flop AK6cc, V1 bets $10.80, H flats. Put him on a range of flush draws, Ax hands, Kx hands, 6x hands and obvs sets and two pair. V2 folds
(39.60) Turn AK6cc 7d, V1 checks. H leads for $15.84 and V1 calls. Thought process was that he’s betting all two pair and flush draw combos on this turn (67, A6/7 etc). He’s definitely raising turn with sets and will also sometimes raise with two pair hands that he’s checked turn with. It felt better to bet here rather than X.
(71.28) River AK67Qh. No flush draws get there. H has $148~ behind. V1 checks and H bets $42.01. V1 goes into the tank for a while before making his decision.
This is the bet that my friends said was terrible, but I couldn’t see too many hands that he’d be ahead with as played besides A6 or KQ and he’d likely raise with A6 at some point. I felt my sizing allowed me to fold if he jammed. If I sized smaller then he’d be able to jam wider imo, but this size made me feel he’d mostly be jamming his value hands.
I’ll post results in about 12 hours when I wake up. Let me know your thoughts! Please be honest as I’m trying to improve and will be grateful for any advice or criticism. Thanks in advance!
EDIT: thank you all so much for the replies! Some of you wrote some amazing in depth replies, so I really appreciate the time you took. In the end V1 called and I won the pot, he didn’t show so I never found out what he had.
Looking back and at what everyone has said, I’ll probably adjust my pre flop play by tightening up a bit and looking to 4bet stronger hands rather than flatting mediocre hands like this. V1 is honestly just a crazy gambler, has no problem jamming $150 with 57o. Bc of that I felt I played my hand well against specifically him, in saying that I can totally see how he can have me beat a decent amount of the time and even tho it worked out this time it’s -EV. To give some perspective here’s a quick run down of another hand: V2 opens 4, V2 3bets to 7, H with AhQd 4bets to 28, both call. Flop (84) J42hh, V1 x, H bets 56, V2 folds and V1 calls. We check it down to the river and it bricks out (I pussied out and didn’t bet) - he showed 45o and won the hand.
Either way, thanks for everyone’s help! Has really helped me looking back

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By the light of the silvery moon,
I want to croon,
To my honey ‘bout who loves whom.
Honeymoon, keep a shinin’ in June,
Your silvery beams
Will bring us dreams of my lovely in June,
By the silvery moon…
…I finished the old tune and stared down lovingly into Lacy’s wide brown eyes. She gave me a big smile and wiggled in delight. We both enjoyed the early summer evening on the front porch, indeed by the light of the, “silvery moon”. I stroked her back and cuddled her close; in so short a time she’d become a true delight in my life. Dogs have a way of doing that…
Oh, you thought she was a woman or girl? Well that’s okay, so did she… her life had been hard up to the point when the folks at the local animal shelter had ended up with her. She was a medium to large mixed breed… plenty of Golden Retriever in that mix by the look of her and trending toward the larger end of the scale; a little russet in the coat and a slightly pointy nose, maybe some Irish Setter? She was still young enough to be a little fuzzball but was starting to look like a real dog… a grown-up… okay, an adolescent. She had plenty of energy and was clearly very bright. It hadn’t taken long to house train her and she could already sit and stay. She was kind enough to tolerate me singing old songs as we puttered around my place and wasted time… the life of the newly retired.
I loved animals but hadn’t wanted any when I retired. I felt like I would be traveling or working on projects and wouldn’t have time to properly care for one. Then I stopped by the shelter to visit (and ogle) Ms. Wanda Jamison. We’d met elsewhere but she’d told me where she worked and invited me to visit. Next thing I knew, I had Lacy and a complete set-up for a new pup and Wanda trundled me out to my truck without so much as a by your leave, here’s my number, or kiss my foot… women! Ah but my Lacy was loyal. A scratch on the rump, just above the tail and another behind the ears and she was mine for the day… okay, at least for the moment, pooches sometimes have short memories.
I hadn’t realized until Lacy arrived and I had to start sharing my home with another living being, just how lonely I’d become. Sure, I had my fun with the old gals around town but I hadn’t looked at any of them seriously. My wife had died many years previously, we’d had no children and without her... well, life could be empty at times. She was still the other half of my internal dialog… Now I had a sweet little lady to take on walks; one who wouldn’t fuss at me or argue when I griped about politics… and one who liked me singing old songs as much as my Rhonda had. Life with Lacy was good…
**** * ****
That moon sure was bright; it was full, “gibbous” folks used to say. Bright enough that I decided that we could take a walk through the yard, let my little critter relax and enjoy the great outdoors before we headed inside for bed. Not like we had to get up and do anything…
Lacy sniffed and gamboled and rooted her nose under every bush and tree with the tirelessness of youth. I envied her for a moment… then she started getting close to the woods near the edge of the property. We had, “paper company” owned forests on two sides. They extended for miles…. Never knew what might be lurking under those branches. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, didn’t want my girl to encounter a copperhead or other nasty concealed in the moon shadows. I called to her, “Lacy, come back over here. Good girl, come on…”
Naturally she decided that she didn’t want to be a, “good girl” or maybe she was just too excited by the things she smelled, so she kept at it for a moment, then abruptly halted in her tracks. She looked up and out into the forest and gave a little, “huff”; not a bark, just a startled, defensive sound… She stared for another moment, then bolted forward into the trees!
“Lacy!” I called in vain, “Get back here!” I was suddenly afraid. What if she’d taken off after a coyote or wild dog or worse yet, a feral hog? Those things were dangerous to full grown dogs, Lacy was still a pup! I hadn’t planned on the walk, so I didn’t have a flashlight or walking stick and had nothing on my feet but flip flops but I ran after her, heedless of what was sure to happen to my feet on the rough forest floor. Then I heard her yelp; the sound was engulfed by a deep throated growl… not Lacy’s. It was a yelp of pain and fear and she wasn’t too far ahead… I heard the sounds of rustling brush as some large animal or person fled from that same direction; far more noise than little Lacy could produce…
**** * ****
I found her, lying between the roots of an old oak tree, her fur stained with blood, her ribs pumped with heavy breaths, and a slight whimper and whine emanated from her throat. Something large had bitten her along the scruff of her neck and had maybe shaken her. It had to be large. She was nearly forty pounds… it may even have been a cougar. I was nervous but otherwise I set aside my major fears and scooped up my little girl and carried her back home. As I hobbled through the last of the trees before my yard, I was startled by the sound of a low octave howl that rang out through the woods. The challenge of a predator, triumphant over a fresh kill! Maybe Ms. Lacy had interfered in the hunt. In any case, some poor creature had just met its end…
**** * ****
I got her inside the house and under some clear lighting and examined her. The wounds did not appear to be deep or near anything vital but they were already swollen and I could see irritation around each puncture. She’d gone limp and nearly lifeless, her breathing now slow, like she was in a deep sleep. I wrapped her in a towel and carried her out to the car. I drove the several miles into town and to the veterinarian’s office. She lived behind the clinic and I knew that she would take on an emergency case; in our area those were sick livestock as often as household pets.
Poor Dr. Stone had just gone to bed but she gamely answered my knocks and rings. She escorted Lacy and me to the clinic and once we were inside, she immediately went to work on the now decidedly limp dog. She shooed me out into the front area and ordered me to make some coffee since I’d made her get out of bed. I complied and allowed her to do her work.
When I looked back in on them, she was putting in some stitches and wore a worried frown. That made me worry; it was a long night…
**** * ****
The next morning, I was awakened from where I’d stretched out on the sofa in the waiting area by Lacy nosing at me. When I was mostly alert, she gave me her usual effluviant dog smile; I could not understand how such a sweet creature managed to have such hideous breath. Despite my relief and sheer joy, it took me a few minutes to sit up and get my joints to moving properly… well, as properly as they did these days. There she was, perky and goofy as ever, wagging her butt in counter to her tail. A few fragrant face licks got me fully alert and on my feet. “Uurrrrgh… Gross!” I grouched playfully as I attempted to wave away the foul smell.
When doc arrived, I settled the bill with her and thanked her profusely. She seemed surprised that Lacy appeared to be doing so well, “I must admit, I was worried for her last night. I expected to have her here for a few days but the punctures look… well, significantly healed… far more than they should be. She’s had her shots but you’ll need to keep an eye on her. No interaction with other animals. She’s quarantined for potential rabies exposure. Just a precaution but please watch her. Oh, and give her these twice per day… antibiotics. Don’t want her getting any nasty infections…” As she said the last, she gave Lacy a quick back rub and was rewarded with a wet dog kiss. “Phew! We need to get her in for a teeth cleaning, she’s too young to have such awful breath.” Dr. Stone exclaimed.
So, we packed up and headed back to our, “shanty” in the woods. I stopped by the little grocery store in town on the way and picked up some treats for both Lacy and me, we’d had a long night…
**** * ****
When we arrived, Lacy hopped out of the truck through the driver’s side as usual, too anxious to wait for me to open her side. Yet once she’d bounded out into the yard, she stopped… she tensed and then cowered… next thing I knew, she was glued to my side. She stayed that way until we got inside. She’d cast nervous glances at the woods as we proceeded across the yard. She definitely remembered what had happened inside the trees…
That evening, I gave her the antibiotic pill, just before her supper dish. She took it fine and allowed me to inspect her wounds… I was astonished. They’d healed and left four perfect, pink, puncture scars, as though they were a couple of weeks old. I rubbed the area and she didn’t seem to feel any pain, she just grinned at me and puffed her foul breath my way… we’d definitely have to visit the doc again for that teeth cleaning. I decided to wait until tomorrow to call for an appointment. I was glad that the wounds were better but it was weird and I thought it’d be best to keep doc in the loop.
**** * ****
I called Dr. Stone’s office and she had an opening in the next hour, so I got ready and escorted Lacy back to the truck. She kept eying the trees warily and stayed on my leg. She stopped to have a pee, she’d been holding it for a while. Apparently she no longer wished to enter the yard alone… we’d have to fix that. I couldn’t run outside to pee every time she did… well, if my prostate kept growing, maybe.
**** * ****
“Well, Ms. Lacy, you seem to be a miracle healer. Is that your true breed?” Miriam Stone spoke engagingly to my pup, who responded with a huff of breath and a goofy grin. “Aargh… we need to clean those teeth ASAP. I have an opening for that Thursday afternoon, can you bring her?” She glanced over her shoulder at me.
I nodded, “Sure doc, just let me check my appointment book.” I mimicked flipping through pages and running down the lines of an imaginary book. “Looks like we’re clear; I’m retired and Lacy hasn’t decided what she wants to be when she grows up. She’s currently in home school.” Lacy perked up a little when she heard her name.
**** * ****
Over the next few days, Lacy seemed to get much stronger and even filled out some. Doggie growth spurt apparently, I thought as I watched her sniff around the yard after she did her business. She was still nervous about going far from the house by herself but she was starting to recover her confidence. I was sure that she’d soon be racing around her territory once more.
Her teeth cleaning had been pretty routine. Her breath still reeked, though the, “stinkometer” readings were much lower. Some dogs just had nasty breath… like some people. I noted that she preferred the side of the house farthest from the forest of late. She’d occasionally stop, peek around a corner of the house, and sniff the air from the direction of the shadows cast by the great boles and limbs. She was doing that as I watched her… Then came an ear-splitting howl from inside the line, where the shadows were deep and obscured the exact source of the sound.
Lacy immediately cowered and then bolted toward the back door to the house. She burst through her doggie door before I could even rise to my feet. There was still some light this evening and after my rapidly beating pulse settled, I followed her into the house. It was time to check out what creature was lurking out there, haunting my home and my one true friend…
I went inside and found my poor dog on the couch, burrowed beneath her favorite blanket, shivering with fear rather than cold. I patted where the lump of her back rose slightly under the material… she growled and snapped at me. Fortunately her head was covered, so she didn’t make contact. I drew back my hand, startled and then realized just how scared she was; I’d frightened her…
I walked over to the hall closet and picked up my 12 Gauge. I checked the load and walked back out onto the back porch. I stepped off and headed in the direction from which I’d heard the howl. I intended to put a stop to whatever beast was hiding out there, menacing my home… frightening my little girl…
This time I wore boots and I was ready to traipse through the brush. I was well armed and my blood was up enough to stave off the pain from my back and knees. That constant pain from which Lacy distracted me so well. Now it faded into the background and I was on the hunt. I slowed once I was through the brush and under the trees… I began to walk quietly, placing the balls of my feet before me… I stopped frequently to listen… there were no sounds. It was eerie, no birds, no rustles, not even the buzzing of insects… I took a whiff when a slight breeze blew through the branches… I retched and bent forward, prepared to give up my lunch. The stench was horribly foul; death, rot, musk, and… something less definable but similar to a street person who hasn’t been able to wash for a few weeks… all combined with wet dog.
When I’d recovered from the initial shock of the wretched stench, I looked up toward the source of the odor and through the leaves and branches of a yaupon, I saw the eyes… Red eyes… not reflective but glowing with the inner light of a nighttime predator. They were set higher off the ground than mine. Definitely higher than any normal animal. I thought, maybe it’s a person in a costume or using a prop to play some sort of prank... Yet I couldn’t shake an overwhelming sense of dread. The features were sharp, a long nose that descended from between the luminous eyes. Heavy brows or fur around the eyes, like a cap or long messy hair...
I strained my eyes to look more closely, yet the rest of my body was stood frozen in place. The figure shifted slightly as if it read my thoughts; that I wanted… no I needed a better look. The head lowered and I saw that it had pointed ears that protruded from either side of its head and swept backwards… then I saw the mouth… the maw of the monster! It gaped open to display sharply tipped teeth and fangs and seemed to wear… a wicked grin, full of malevolence. I shook with fear but eventually recalled that I held the shotgun… I blinked away my locked, tunneled gaze and raised the stock to my shoulder. As I tucked the butt into my shoulder, “in the pocket” I saw that there was nothing ahead of me. Nothing hiding behind the yaupon…
It had gotten ever darker while the creature and I had stood, eyeing one another in challenge and fear respectively. I heard some rustles out in the woods. The smell dissipated, the sounds of other creatures returned as though they’d been muted and then the audio had been switched on again… I backed a few steps, then turned and quickly made my way back to my yard, to the safety of my property, to my girl Lacy. As I left behind the last of the trees, I saw that more time had passed than I’d realized. It was nearing full on dark. I felt the need to get into the shelter of my house, so I picked up the pace again, my knees screaming at the effort. As I reached the porch, the howl bellowed forth once more. Once more just inside the line of trees. The vomit inducing stench assailed my olfactory sense once more…
I scrambled inside and there was Lacy. She faced the now closed door and her best friend, who leaned back against it as though it could stop that… that thing outside! She lowered her head and growled fiercely, not at all like anything I’d ever heard from her. I soon realized that she did not growl at me but at whatever was treading on the floorboards of my porch!
I stepped away from the door and faced the front windows, all the while shifting the barrel between them, trying to follow the tread of an obviously heavy… animal? Person? Being? I had no idea but was adamantly sure that I didn’t want to know. The screech of razor talons scratching the wood on the front door sounded and Lacy let out a bark. The sound caused me to flinch and against all my years of practice in keeping my finger off the trigger until I was ready to fire… I fired!
The boom startled me even more than the bark as the butt of the 12 GA slammed into my shoulder and my ears instantly filled and began to ring. The stench of cordite rose from the chamber and the end of the barrel and for a brief instant overrode the foulness of the monster as I instinctively used my grip on the fore-stock to eject the first round and shoved it forward to load the next. The first round had been buckshot and I now had a nice fat hole just above and to the left of the doorknob, where I’d been hovering the barrel. There was a scream of agony and surprise from the front porch… a deep coarse sound that hinted of rage-filled pain.
Lacy growled and barked and I could just hear her as my poor damaged ears continued to ring. When did I take off the safety? My mind wondered. The question was irrelevant but under pressure, the mind wanders in many directions at once. As all of these events occurred almost at once, my perceptions were somewhat overwhelmed. Before I had a chance to sort through all of the rubbish of my synapses, the door burst inward, shards of wood and spalls of glass flying haphazardly toward us.
I stumbled backwards and all but fell as the huge, fur and hair covered monstrosity raged into my home in a snarling fit of rage. I’d pulled up the muzzle of the shotgun and tucked my face into the crook of my elbow to protect my eyes. Before I could recover enough to get the barrel back on line, the beast was upon me. It swatted aside the barrel and its claws raked my arm, then it raised its other… hand to shred me… Before the frighteningly swift beast could strike again, a reddish blonde streak shoved past my left shoulder and slammed into the thing’s chest. Lacy!
Yet it couldn’t be Lacy, this animal was much larger and more muscular. The front legs had elongated and the paws had morphed into… clawed hands. The larger home invader gripped Lacy and flung her across the room. She impacted the wall farthest from the front door and slumped onto the floor. I was instantly furious and pulled the buttstock into the center of my chest and fired my next round into the monster
‘s chest, just below the throat. It’s response barely registered as I pumped in another round and fired, then another, and then the fifth and final round. These four had been rifled slugs. The bipedal big bad werewolf lay sprawled backward on the floor, its upper body resting on my favorite rocking chair, and bleeding on an afghan my wife had knitted for me... Bastard!
Lacy was on it in a moment… apparently she’d recovered from the stunning wall slam almost immediately. She had the thing supine and was dragging it across the floor toward the front door, her jaws clamped on top of its right shoulder at the neck and her head working side to side. When she realized that it was no longer alive, she released it. To my astonishment, she drew up onto her hind legs… her shoulders and chest had become relatively massive… She threw back her head and… howled! The roar overcame even the tinnitus from the sound of the 12 GA rounds. It was the same I’d heard from the wood line… the same as from the now dead fiend lying just inside my front door.
She slowly lowered her head and looked toward me. She wore a sinister grin that quickly turned to… embarrassment? She looked down, clearly abashed and then sprung through what was left of the front door of our home and ran into the darkness, once again on all fours…
I was in too much shock to even shout after her. At that point, I wasn’t sure that I wanted her to come back inside… Then the awful odor rose from the carcass in front of me. The creature seemed to… melt. The features morphed and collapsed until there was a dead, naked woman stretched out before me. Her hair was long and stringy and dirty. She was hairy from head to toe and filthy. A pile of putrid fur and flesh outlined her corpse. The mass looked like large dog roadkill that had been run over several times and left to sit in the hot sun for a few days. It smelled like it too, I realized as I leaned forward and vomited onto the body, adding my own stink…
**** * ****
How am I going to explain this? I asked myself as I awaited the deputies. After I’d recovered from the initial shock, I realized that I had a set of claw marks on my left arm and forearm. I’d set the shotgun aside, definitely didn’t want to have that in hand when rural sheriff’s deputies responded to a homicide…
**** * ****
It went better if more strangely than I’d anticipated. I met the deputies outside and pointed toward the dead woman-thing. The foulness had driven me out into the fresh night air. I warned the two as they drew their sidearms and stalked into my house… they didn’t pay attention and both quickly fled back out onto the porch. Once of them leaned over the far rail to lose his supper. Sorry dude, I tried to warn you, I thought uncharitably.
Eventually they recovered and cleared my home and one took my statement while the other called in the ambulance crew and used his phone to call their boss. It was going to be another long night…
**** * ****
The lead EMS employee looked at my scratches. She let the deputies take a few photos and then bandaged them. Around the gouges the skin showed definite signs of irritation. “Sir, you can drive yourself or we can take you but you really need to have an ER doc look at them.” She glanced at the S.O. Lieutenant to confirm that I would be free to seek treatment.
He nodded and stepped forward, “Mr. Brooks, Sheriff Scoggins and the Justice of the Peace are on the way. Do you think you could wait until they officially clear the scene before you seek treatment?”
I agreed. The paramedic looked at the Lt. and I and then shrugged, “Your call sir but please, you really need to see someone soon. There will definitely be infection; in fact I believe there already is. Don’t see many that take hold so rapidly.”
**** * ****
The Sheriff himself arrived within a few minutes, with the Justice of the Peace in tow. There was no county coroner or medical examiner in this rural corner of the county, the JP would be there to make a death ruling. Pretty easy. In the time since the deputies arrived, more of the flesh had fallen from the woman’s body. No one could or would go near the reeking mass any more than necessary but when the Sheriff and JP viewed the pictures that the first arriving units had taken, they both looked shocked. They looked at each other in silent communication and then at me. Sheriff Cloud spoke first, “Mr. Brooks, just how did you know the lady in question?”
I peered at him, a little puzzled, “Know her? The first time I saw her, she was hiding out in the woods, wearing some kind of costume, like a werewolf… Next time, she burst through my front door and raked me with her talons.”
He grunted slightly, “Was there anyone else here, anyone who may corroborate your story?”
I shrugged, “Just my dog, Lacy but she ran off into the trees, likely in fear of the shotgun rounds. She bit that thin… that woman, dragged her from where she… fell.” I added hesitantly.
The Sheriff glanced at the JP, who nodded her approval. “Look, this is clearly a homicide.” He quickly raised his hands, “Not a murder, ‘homicide’ just means that one person killed another. The means and motive provide the category of the homicide and determine whether there was a crime. She clearly burst through your door and your wounds are obviously defensive from an investigative standpoint The DA will have to corroborate but at this time, it’s my call that this was self-defense and we won’t be seeking any criminal charges.” He paused and took a breath, ”Are you familiar with or have you heard the name, Lacy Elbert?”
I started at the name, and quickly explained, “Lacy is my dog’s name. I picked her up at the shelter up in town… oh, about a month ago. I don’t recall hearing the name ‘Elbert’ at all… Wait, I think there’s a local family by that name or maybe I read it I the local… Yep, that’s it. There was a story on the, ‘Hometown News’ site. Something about her missing or… no, you were looking for her, she was wanted. Some kind of assault or murder… You mean that’s her? The same woman?”
The pair of public officials paused and then in unison, like a pair of bauble head dolls, nodded. The JP took a turn, “We believe that Lacy may have been responsible for killing her parents and boyfriend and possibly some others. We have DN… well, we have some evidence to that effect, though we’re not really at liberty to discuss it at this time. From your standpoint, I think it is safe to say that you are unlikely to face charges. We still have to complete an investigation and of course the DA’s Office will have to review…”
I barely heard the rest in my rush of relief. It was indeed a long night and the sun was up before the final first responders left my property. They’d already processed the scene and just as the first rays of the sun broke the horizon, they carted off the now putrid mass of gunk and bones. The stench was reduced a little, the crime scene team had applied some solutions to the affected areas to prevent contamination. That odd, rapid deterioration made it clear that there was something different about this case.
I really wanted a shower and a nap before I drove to the ER. I thought that maybe I could get an appointment with my regular doc instead... Then I saw her. My pup, my Lacy, hobbled tiredly from the tree line and toward the house. We would both need a bath, she was filthy… but she looked like her old self and she perked up a little and gave me a goofy smile as she trotted to my side… Oh, she reeked!
**** * ****
I was too tired to make her a bath, so I coaxed her over to the garden hose and washed off most of the gunk. As I rubbed her as clean as I could without shampoo, I noted that she had developed some serious musculature and I was sure that she had grown… odd crap happening with my dog, I thought worriedly.
Once the major chunks were left behind in the yard and Lacy’d had a good shake, we went into the house and I took a shower. She was clingy, so I let her join me in the walk-in enclosure and we both scrubbed with shampoo. I knew she’d make a mess when she got out and shook but I didn’t want her on the furniture or carpet until the dirt and stink were gone. As I bent down to scrub her, she turned and spewed her dragon breath into my face. So much for the too expensive teeth cleaning!
**** * ****
Once we were both clean and as dry as we could be, I called my doc and got in the last appointment of the day at 2 p.m. I set the alarm on my phone and then literally crashed into the bed. My last thought was that I would need to rent a carpet cleaner… scratch that, I’d need to get rid of the rug by the front door… oh, wait, the Crime Scene Techs had taken it for evidence… hmmmm… my last sensation was Lacy snuggling in beside me. She felt warmer than usual, almost like she had a fever…
…I was running through the forest… my breath was ragged and I was panting… my tongue lolled out the side of my mouth and drool dripped onto the pine straw below. I looked downward and saw… paws! I had paws! Then I smelled something… normally I would have gagged at the odor but now it smelled intriguing, even… enticing… I ran toward the delectable smell, the smell of blood… the smell of food! I burst through a stand of brush and into a small clearing by a cattle pond. I recognized it; Lacy and I had found it not far into the woods and near an abandoned property next to ours… The carcass of some unfortunate animal lay on the edge of the clearing next to the water. A pair of turkey vultures gnawed at some delectable pieces but fled when I appeared, all the while issuing a deep growl from the depths of my throat. I stalked over to the pond and checked my reflection in the still water, to see what I already knew to be. As I lowered my head over the water, I saw pointed ears that swept back above a furry face…
…and then the alarm sounded. It was time to get up, get dressed, and go see Dr. Castillo. My wounds felt hot and swollen but I figured it would be best to wait for the doctor to remove the bandages. I didn’t check but I was sure I had a fever. As I passed through the front entrance to my house, no door left, I had to stop and lean over the rail and gag and dry heave for a moment from the rancid stench of death and rot masked only slightly by a chemical odor.
Lacy had accompanied me onto the porch, not like I could stop her but I didn’t think my doc would like for her to go inside and I didn’t want to leave her in the truck, so I convinced her to go back inside and wait. “It’s okay girl, just going to the next town over; big city in this part of the world. After I see ole grouchy Roberto, I’m sure I’ll have to go by the pharmacy. I’ll get you some of the treats you like.” She listened to me intently, as though she genuinely understood the words I spoke; not in the silly way that dogs sometimes seem to understand… she actually grinned and… nodded. Then she turned on her heels and walked back inside the house. Apparently the foul odor near the front entrance didn’t bother her as she planted her behind on the floor where the rug and the body had rested. She struck up the, “doggie seated at the front door waiting patiently” pose and drooled onto the floor a little.
I left what was left of the front door ajar. I thought of hanging a sheet or some plastic over it but one, I wanted the air to circulate and remove more of the stink and two, I felt awful… I didn’t feel like driving the nearly forty miles to see my doctor, much less making home repairs but it was clearly becoming critical…
**** * ****
…I managed to make to it not only to the doctor’s office but inside. I’d only seen Dr. Castillo twice before, so we were still new to each other. Still, he took one look and asked, “Why didn’t you just go to the Emergency Room? I’m happy to take care of you but this should not have waited.”
“Doc, I was exhausted and sleepy like I’ve rarely ever been. That crazy woman who attacked me, I’m sure she had plenty of unsavory substances beneath her claw… er, nails. As it is, I barely made it to your office.”
He nodded, “Yep, typical hard-headed old man… much like me.” He chuckled a little, “You know you have a higher fever than should be the case with such a recent infection. And yes, the wounds are infected… We will need to…”
A roaring noise supplanted his voice in my ears and my vision shrank into a long grey tunnel and then into the dark cave of unconsciousness…
**** * ****
Well eventually, I either had to die or regain my senses… apparently I’d accomplished the latter when my eyes fluttered open and after a moment of gummy blur, I made out the face of a nurse and the bland, basic tones of a hospital room. “So how are we feeling now Mr. Brooks, any better?”
I know I must have looked confused. Could she not tell that I was confused? What was wrong with her?! She’d been intelligent enough to pass her RN program but… Why am I so angry? I wondered. Not like me to be angry at anyone for no real reason.
Apparently she took my stupid, grouchy look to mean that I had no clue, which I didn’t. “Sir, you lost consciousness in Dr. Castillo’s office. He brought you over here to the Emergency Room. That was a few hours ago. You have infected wounds and a fever. Is there anyone you’d like to us to call for you?”
My throat was dry as the Mojave but I managed to croak out, “No, I live alone… oh, wait, my dog, Lacy. Not sure whom to call…” I realized I was in one of those awful hospital gowns. “Where’s my phone? For that matter, where are my pants?”
**** * ****
We eventually sorted out my belongings and clothing. Doctor Castillo had admitted me for an overnight stay for observation. Dr. Stone meanwhile had decided that she’d take a house call, collect Lacy, and keep her at the clinic overnight. She’d also contact the Sheriff’s Office and get them to check on the house overnight. What a sweet lady I thought as I clicked off my phone.
She texted me back before long and told me that she had been unable to locate Lacy. She had looked and called but could not find her, so she set out some food and water and would wait another hour. I sent back that in addition to paying her fee, that I’d like to take her out to dinner when I was back on my feet. I was surprised when she quickly responded that she’d like that… Lacy didn’t show and I quickly fell into a deep sleep… no dreams this time…
**** * ****
I was cleared to go home late the next morning. My fever had dissipated and my welts looked to become an impressive set of scars about which I could tell lies… uh, brag! I was still weak but felt up to driving. I was worried about Lacy and I couldn’t believe that I’d asked Dr. Stone on a date! Well, I equivocated internally, just dinner… I stopped at the pharmacy for my new prescription for Cipro and some pain meds that I’d try to avoid taking. I kept my promise and picked up a box of Lacy’s favorite treats. Hopefully she’d have returned, likely just out exploring.
I drove up toward the side of the house and there she was, sitting on the front porch, tail pounding, all fear from the past days apparently wiped from her short memory. She looked… different. Her fuzzy puppy hair had straightened and she had apparently grown more, she’d definitely bulked up, the muscle definition along her front legs and in the thighs of her back legs stood out clearly. She bounded toward me and as weak as I felt, I feared that she might topple me but she slowed at the last moment and reared up on her hind legs. She threw her front legs and paws around me and gave me an all too human hug. My dog had definitely become a stranger!
**** * ****
Later that day, we platzed on the sofa and watched TV, not something we did too often… not much worth watching, just dreck and drivel… again with the grouchy, nearly angry thoughts? I still felt awful and before I knew it, I awoke to late-afternoon sun pouring through one of the living room windows. Guess TV was even more boring than usual, I thought as I blinked away the drowsiness… oh right, I mused, I took one of the prescription pain pills before I arrived home. The odor of something savory wafted in from the dining area…
I creaked and groaned my way to my feet… nothing unusual, something always hurt these days. The muting effect of the pain medicine had worn off and I was hurting enough that I feared that I would not die (internal laugh, I got that one from Rhonda). There was a freshly heated microwave dinner on the table! Weird, I didn’t recall getting up and making that… I looked over toward the front, “entrance”; couldn’t really call it a, “door” since there wasn’t one. Yet there was a nice sheet of heavy plastic over the damaged portal. The very piece from the garage I’d had in mind. Definitely didn’t remember getting up to do that! I considered the possibilities:
1. I was on more or better drugs than I realized
2. I’d snapped
3. A good Samaritan had come in and set up everything while I rested; maybe Doctor Stone!
4. The Good Folk, The Fae had come at last and put up my door and made a meal for me… now I’d have to put out milk and treats for Them…
I went with number one for the time being. I must have been semi-lucid… maybe I’d taken another pill? No idea but I was hungry. The infection had left me nauseous until I fell asleep on the couch, now I was ravenous. I quickly devoured the meatball and pasta dinner, cleaned up and then more closely inspected the temporary repair work on the front door. Yep, I realized, it had definitely been number one, it was clearly the work of an intoxicated person. I guessed that didn’t rule out number two… Still, it was weird. I’d never had a, “lost time” episode… good dope!
I heard a rush of feet coming down the stairs, Lacy had run up while I’d consumed supper. I looked over to the table and there she stood… uh, stood?! Well, her front paws were splayed on the table top… just a doggie lean, Whew! Those pain killers... Odd that she’d taken to standing on her hind legs so much. She had been good about jumping on me only during play… then today there was the hug and now this. Dang! Her front paws have gotten huge! Nails definitely needed trimming. “Lacy, you know better, off the table.” She looked at me, confused, then a little… annoyed? Before she dropped backward onto her haunches and stared at me expectantly. “Thank you dear lady.” I said and gave her a little bow. She gave me a radiant pooch smile.
My reverie over the mysteries of my meal and the door repairs was short lived. I took my evening dose and went up to bed. I heard Lacy trundle up behind me but I didn’t look at her, it was what I’d expected her to do; what she always did. At the top of the stairs, I felt the blood rush into my head and I became suddenly dizzy. I snatched at the stair rail as I tumbled backward. Then my fall was arrested and I was gently pushed back onto my feet. I stumbled onto the top landing and looked back to see Lacy on her hind feet once again, now wearing a look of concern. She caught me and set me on my feet! I thought in astonishment and almost experienced another head rush. “What’s up with you, silly dog?” I murmured as I turned and shuffled down the hallway to my room. After a moment, I heard her feet padding along behind me…
**** * ****

• It would be somewhat like QRC vs. Tyrian in V7.
• Ruby is trying to use Silver Eyes, but as shown in V6 and V7, she needs time to get into the right mindset to trigger them, time Cinder will not give her. As such, she takes shots with Crescent Rose at Cinder to give her something else to worry about, while also performing a hit-and-run attack strategy with her scythe against her. She makes sure not to enter protracted close combat with Cinder to keep the latter from seriously injuring her.
• Weiss uses her glyphs to support the other 3 girls, such as a shield to block Cinder's attacks or reflecting Ruby's bullets off of them at Cinder, while also using her elemental dust to counter her Maiden powers.
• Blake uses Gambol Shroud in a manner similar to Clover using Kingfisher against Tyrian, sending it out to tie up Cinder and restrict her movement. Since Cinder needs to perform gestures to effectively use her powers, this can limit her usage of the Maiden powers.
• Yang goes toe-to-toe with Cinder (or fist to sword in this case). As the strongest and most durable of RWBY, she's the only one who stands any hope of surviving against her in a straight battle. Yang can also use her bombs if she feels it necessary to do so.
• Cinder is clearly holding her ground, but it's also clear that she's having issues against 4 well-coordinated Huntresses who have a myriad of team attacks at their disposal. As the fight progresses, she starts losing her temper, and this leads to her using the Maiden powers more, but also making more careless errors.
• Who wins the fight is irrelevant, just so long as Cinder is still clearly a major threat while showcasing that though RWBY is outclassed in terms of raw power, their teamwork and coordination allowed them to hold their own. Basically, all combatants get a good showing in the fight.
• I would prefer this fight to occur in the Vacuo Arc.
• A new song from Casey and Jeff would definitely have to go into the fight.
• Feel free to suggest any changes I should make or discrepancies I didn't catch!

Was just down in Ft. Lauderdale this weekend and got a chance to visit Seminole Hollywood HardRock. Overall, a fantastic room and would definitely go back. However, I'll break it down into specific segments because some aspects were better than others.
** The Room **
The poker room itself is gorgeous. It looks like something out of Casino Royale. Very nice lighting, (marble?) floors and walls, non-smoking (but with a patio for smokers), smells nice, clean bathrooms. You can tell they put a lot of attention to detail. The reason I mention these things is because not everywhere is like that. Seminole HardRock in Tampa has a darker kind of lighting and theme. The casinos I go to here in Michigan are usually very smoky.
One thing I will say is the room is a little tucked away. I would have preferred if it was closer to the table games. Although, it is in the mall part of the hotel. There are tons of nice shops, bars, and even a dance club right next the poker room. So the room gets an AA rating from me.
** Dealers, Floor and Service **
The dealers were a mix of competent and incompetent. I'd say half of them were perfectly professional, the other half needed some improvement. I played 3 sessions for a total of 7 hours, and had something like 6 misdeals. A few times the dealers did a very bad job of keeping the action in order. I was playing Holdem the 2nd night, and the guy to my right kept acting out of turn. I raised his river donk lead and he insta-folded even though there was another player left in the hand (obviously he wants the other guy to call to see if I was bluffing). After the hand was over I asked the dealer, "you gonna do anyting about this?" because it was the 5th time he'd acted out of turn. The dealer literally shrugged. And that wasn't the only session where players were acting out of turn and the dealers weren't doing much proactively about it. Dealers get a JJ rating. Good enough, but wouldn't place too much faith in them.
The floor got involved twice when I was there, and I think they handled it perfectly. First time was on holdem. Guy posts his small blind, gets dealt in, gets up to go get food, and the dealer folds him since he wasn't at the table. Guy gets mad, floor comes over, calmly explains that you will get mucked if you're not at the table, and moved on. Second time was at PLO. Guy opens, I 3bet KKds, a guy who limped starts pushing forward calling chips and the opener immediately says "POT". The guy was going to call pulls his chips back trying to save himself 60 bucks. The dealer says no, that stays in. Cue argument. Floor is called, and says, you have complete your action. Flustered, the guy decides to repot instead lmao. But yeah they handled it very well. Floor gets an AK rating: very slick.
I gotta say, the drinks were expensive. Like $18 for a vodka-redbull (can not included). $10 for a beer. Maybe that's normal price down there, but seems like a scam. The waitress staff were all thicc, and were wearing push-up dresses and mini skirts. Which was distracting in a good way. The service staff gets a 69s rating from me: pretty to look at, not much value.
** The Players **
The players are action action action. Not as good as some of the home games I go to, but fuck do these fucks like to gambol. However, a lot of them have little to no manners. I got slow rolled twice in marginal pots for no apparent reason. One guy shoves a king high flush draw on the turn, binks the river, and then gets up and starts gloating to the other player. He sits down and says to the dealer, "I knew there was a reason why you good looking" and the dealer just looked uncomfortable lol. A lot of aggressive table talk too. That, along with how people drive, leads me to believe being assholish is just a part of the culture. So the players get a T9s rating: love to play 'em, but don't take 'em seriously.

So, ok, the official unveiling will be on the October 30, definitely gonna be watching that later. But we know what characters will be getting the skins.
So for fun and to temper expectations, I will explain what we can deduce from the representation of team RWBY in SMITE (and why the selections were met with some criticism.)
Ruby as Thanatos. So, in SMITE, Thanatos is the Greek God of Death, he has a Scythe. That's pretty much where the similarities end. For his abilities he floats/hovers over the ground. He throws his scythe. He does a wide slash with his scythe. In his ultimate he flies up way above the battlefield and descends on low-health players to execute them.
Like, either Ruby is gonna float...or they will alter the animation. Ruby will now possibly throw Crescent Rose, how reckless of her. And I imagine the ultimate will be her flying up to shattered Moon and dropping down with her semblance.
Weiss as Freya. Freya, Queen of the Valkyries. She has a sword... she hits things with the sword, but like 99.7% of the time she is shooting magic orbs out of the sword. She also conjures up a magic circle that hoists enemies up into the air. She also flies into the air to shoot more blasts for her ultimate. She does NOT however do anything related to summoning.
So... I'm guessing this Weiss will be all about shooting ice shards. Like... spamming them. The Glyph will probably be the magic circle that pulls enemies up. For her ultimate... she summons some hornets to help her fly? Or she sits on the shoulder of a knight... it's hard to tell.
Blake as Amaterasu. The Japanese Sun Goddess. She also hovers above the ground. She also has a magic mirror floating next to her. She has a magic aura that is shown as glyph under your feet (Weiss?), absorbs damage and fires it back (Yang?), dashes. For her ultimate, she does three wide slashes. She does NOT have clones of any kind (some SMITE characters do, but this one does not)
Blake will... probably not float, probably not have a magic mirror. Like, I guess she will still dash and the wide slashes for the ultimate will be her swinging Gambol Shroud by the ribbon.
Yang as Terra. Roman Earth Goddess. So... yeah, Terra summons healing monoliths, grows rock armour, summons walls which she can then command to collapse. For her ultimate she gives her friends a protective aura and her enemies like...a debuff.
So... Yang. She's now a healer! She will still punch things, but she now also summons walls and monoliths. Right... I'm guessing she might get the red eyes during the buffs. But no idea what the walls and monoliths will be. Maybe she calls in Bumblebee? (Funny thing is though, there is a god in Smite called Ravana and he was like a near perfect fit for Yang... but he's a dude... and they couldn't change the rig of the model or something other.)
That rounds that up. Hope this helped those of you who have not played SMITE but were thinking or dropping in for the collab or were just curious.