aesmael: (haircut)
 EXT. The Fields of Pelennor

The Witch Queen: "Fool. No living man may hinder me."

Eowyn: "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman."

The Witch Queen: "Then, hinder me."

They kiss passionately.
aesmael: (just people)

Ascii Sector 1.2

Making my way to the ship I take off (and forget to take a screenshot) and fumble extensively with the controls until slowly some understanding of nav-points, autopilot and jump gates is gained.

First, to the wrong nav-point, and then since the destination for this mission was no longer showing on the map like it had been last session - cut off at the bottom - tabbing through other nav-points until one offered 'jump to Nexus Prime'. That system at least showed what looked like a path to potentially get nearer the target system.

 

Read more for system-hopping confusion )

 

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Level 21: This Place Seems Reasonably Safe
 Marash, freshly arrived in the level, has magically mapped the surrounding level and detected evil. In the distance to the west, Boldor, King of the Yeeks alone, to the east, seventeen sleeping snagas.

Marash detects Boldor, King of the Yeeks among local evil. She has been resolved to avoid unnecessary conflict again, but surely what makes conflict necessary is a likelihood of profit, and surely even a king of yeeks could not be too fearsome for her. If he does, she can hope to flee and reconsider. She heads north.
 
A... cold vortex? For destroying it easily she is rewarded another prayer, but no time to discover which yet. A brown yeek falls to her bow, two novice warriors approach from the west. No, four. Make that at least seven. She falls back, to the corridor she arrived in.

By the time she is safely ensconced she has killed seven of the warriors, plus another brown yeek (the same one?). Boldor has come to her, along with a harpy, so she finally invokes her protection from evil, only to see him blink away.
 
More brown yeeks, more vortices, more warriors swarm in after her, but they give little trouble.
 
Boldor returns, summoning more yeeks when Marash has barely made a dent in him. A couple of strikes at the master yeek conjured behind her, and Boldor blinks away again. And with that moment's distraction the master yeek summons novice rangers to back it up. Messy, messy, messy.
 
A dead end, to be sure, but Marash cannot abide nonetheless to leave enemies at her back, even if there is no passage to escape that way. She focuses on the rangers behind, before the warriors afront.

In a corridor, Marash is pinned between a brown yeek and a master yeek, which has just summoned some novice rangers to its aid

A little worn now, she seems to have got the better of the humans for the moment. Now, the killer stag beetle Boldor summoned on his last visit. Her breathe hisses. Unfamiliar, and better-suited to this depth than anything yet she's faced.
 
As so many creatures have yet proved to be, not so dangerous as she feared. With it dead she has some space to recover herself, and rummage through the corpses.
 
The prayer she has been gifted turns out to be... Prayer. And the yellow potion she found makes her more charismatic, permanently. The hat on the floor doesn't make her permanently cuter, but it does a better job than the hat she was wearing, and it armours her better too. She grabs a wand of teleport other from the floor and heads after Boldor.

Marash is in a large open room just north of where she entered, with a small scattering of items. Detecting evil, she identifies the same snagas from earlier, a red naga near to them, and fourteen freshly arrived forest trolls filling a southeast corridor in single file.

Or... not. He doesn't register as a nearby evil, but there is a line of forest trolls that looks ready and willing to settle her hash if she doesn't settle theirs first. In the process she discovers trolls do drop nice useful things after all. Just, not many of them.
 
And Boldor is now in range. She maps a path to him.

Past where the forest trolls used to be, Marash stands at a four-way intersection as three light hounds approach

Light Hounds! This cannot be good. Nor has she an easy path to control them. Standard smashing will have to do. Marash blesses herself; a hound breathes light and she is blind.
 
Her curing rod fixes that as one of the hounds is upon her. She lays about with her maul, chasing them back a little way and killing two of the three. Are there more? Where has the first gone? She resumes her hunt for Boldor, but remaining alert for more hounds.
 
There is a swarm of giant black lice in her way, and the only path she knows of for retreat if they grow overwhelming lies either through the lice or through what is probably a pack of light hounds.
 
Fortunately they go down easily. Marash discovers they were guarding a scroll with the power to increase weapon damage; immediately she uses it on her Maul of Westernesse.
 
Another two-headed hydra? Tedious but not a threat. Marash kills it, takes its treasure and continues after Boldor, soon encountering an imp, some new species of demon. She prays for protection from evil and attacks.
 
The imp is fast, it dances back and forth, but when wounded retreats behind a sleeping salamander. Out of her way, and Marash doesn't fear it, so she continues on her way.
 
A swordsman approaches from behind, peppered with arrows until it dies. Something else died in the darkness too; Marash assumes that was the imp, caught in crossfire, but she has no proof.
 
Ahead, sounds of signs of Boldor casting, summoning more minions. They fall, the now-woken salamander falls, but Boldor escapes again.
 
It seems the King of the Yeeks has eluded her, but as Marash retraces her steps he comes into view again, shielded by an energy vortex.
 
She lets loose arrows, despite her targets being out of range. Boldor summons forth more minions, then casts a spell to blind her.
 
A quick activation of her rod of curing fixes Marash's vision. More arrows follow; the energy vortex breathes lightning indiscriminately, hitting yeeks. As soon as it is in melee range, Marash destroys it and the creatures behind it.
 
If she doesn't have to worry about their breath, corridors seem fit places to battle, her foes trapped between her and their fellows, unable to flee and recover.
 
Finally Marash gets to do battle with the King of the Yeeks himself, with a nervous eye on the light hound approaching from the distance. Barely has she hurt him when he summons more minions and blinks away again, leaving Marash to curse herself.
 
1, 2, 3 yeeks down. The hound blinds her with its luminescent breath and her rod is still recharging from its last use. She fires blind in the direction of the hound, hearing it yelp in pain.
 
Her eyes clear and now there are three hounds approaching. She backs round a corner, hoping they will follow. Something else - not a hound - blinds her again by magic.
 
One rod of light, down each side of the t-intersection, in hopes that when her eyes clear she won't be caught so off-guard again. She steps into the third tunnel, the northward passage she originally came down, the path the hounds approach from, to minimise her uncertainty.
 
Immediately under attack, she lashes out and kills something. Then another something. Her eyes clear and her protection from evil fades. Four hounds ahead of her, Boldor, King of the Yeeks behind her with two brown yeeks and a master yeek escorting. Bad situation.

Marash's vision clears just as her protection from evil fades. She finds herself pinned in a north-south corridor, with four light hounds ahead of her and Boldor at her back, followed by an escort of yeeks.

She prays to restore her protection. Boldor summons more yeeks and blinks away again. Hounds first, then.
 
The next time she can see, there are no hounds about. She turns her maul and her bow on the yeeks, then a straggler hound that shows up after.
 
Someone had left behind a pair of yellow mushrooms. Marash impulsively eats one and it turns her skin to stone, slow and tough. Useful?

Evil all around. Wandering yeeks, Boldor in the distance, a kobold shaman out there somewhere, and a swarm of Mirkwood Spiders now not too far off either. A light hound ambushes her, put down with a little trouble.
 
Marash creeps into an alcove and rests.

Momentarily safe, Marash rests in an alcove. Detecting evil reveals Boldor and various other yeeks scattered in the distance around her, as well as a kobold shaman somewhere to the north, and sixteen Mirkwood spiders sleeping away east

Time to find Boldor again.
 
There's a large grey snake in the way, briefly. Then... Nár, the Dwarf? Not evil, but looking to kill her all the same, looking more dangerous than Boldor too. Protection from evil won't protect her here, blessing herself will have to do.

From out of the shadows as she attempts to hunt Boldor again, Marash is attacked by Nár, a dwarf seeking unfairly to avenge his grief on her

The rod of drain life doesn't make much dent in him. She switches back to her maul and Nár tries to mind blast her, fortunately failing. He didn't seem like he had any abilities but hitting things; it feels almost a betrayal to learn otherwise. Marash doesn't have many options to hurt him except brute force, so she keeps hitting, but when Nár uses a spell to confuse her, her health starts going downhill fast. Faster when a master yeek creeps in from behind.
 
Panicking, she tries her new wand of teleport other, but in her confusion wastes one of its charges. Finally, she remembers she has a rod of curing and does away with her confusion. She immediately prays for healing, but ends up right back where she started.
 
This fight is going nowhere but her grave. In more sober state of mind, Marash uses her wand to teleport Nár away. The master yeek dies quickly, with no greater threat commanding her attention, and Marash rests to recover her wounds.

No creatures in sight, Marash detects evil all around her. Some of the Mirkwood spiders are awake and hunting her, in danger of obstructing her path to Boldor

Healed, still near the location of her fight with Nár, she detects evil. A skeleton orc sleeping neither near nor far, no worry. A zombified human awake, but more distant. Likewise no worry. Two master yeeks on the prowl, one of them with a kobold shaman for company. Those can be annoying. Sixteen Mirkwood Spiders, at least four awake and hunting her, heading for a nearby intersection that's close to Boldor too. Something to worry about, but something she believes she can handle. Nár is undetectable in this way, and could be anywhere she can't currently see.
 
At this point it might seem wiser to abandon the area and head downward. Marash is aware of four paths deeper, one of which probably involves a fight to reach and the other three definitely do.
 
She proceeds, nervously, forward.
 
Ahead, she hears Boldor casting spells, moving himself around, summoning aid. But when she scans for evil again, he is gone from the area, no trace of minion yeeks left behind. She could fight the spiders, maybe try and hunt down Boldor again, but all this place's treasures came early in her time here. Marash keeps walking to the exit.
 
Along the way, a rubble pile. She attempts to dig it out, hoping for something interesting under there, but before she can finish something blinds her.
 
The rod of curing is still charging so she makes a break for the stairs instead. Briefly vision regained, then blinded again.
 
A mistake. She doesn't want to risk emerging below blinded, unaware of what deadly threats might lurk 1100 feet below the surface, so she stands at the stairs and waits for her vision to clear, meanwhile buffeted by attacks from unknown foes.
 
By the time her eyes clear she is surrounded by two yeeks, a skeletal orc and a dark elven priest, and she is badly hurt. She should flee now, while she can. And what if she does end up in a worse situation?

Holding fast to the stairs, Marash's restored vision shows her under attack by a master yeek, a dark elven priest, a skeleton orc and a blue yeek. Her health is low and she fears for her life.

A thought enters her mind. She prays for an orb of draining to strike her foes. A moment later, she is alone. All dead but the master yeek, which blinked away to escape. She gathers up the blue yeek's silver, and an extra scroll of recall from the remains of the dark elf, shoots down a newly approaching yeek. She rests.
 
Level 22: "This seems a quiet, peaceful place"

Nothing evil, but something here is strong enough to burst through doors. She heads east to explore a nearby chamber, activating the Phial of Galadriel to light it... a mistake. Seventeen novice priests awaken and come after her.

At the entrance to a large, dark chamber, Marash holds aloft The Phial of Galadriel, thereby awakening and enraging seventeen resting novice priests, who promptly pursue her.

Not so hugely dangerous to her now, but Marash is not so confident as to want to fight them all in an open space if she can avoid it. She retreats back into the corridors, hoping to force a confrontation better under her control.
 
Marash pulls back to a nice t-intersection, where she can take them rounding the corner. An unexpected novice comes in from the west, surely they haven't had time to round that island of rock? Perhaps another mob of them is on to her.
 
No matter; she puts the unexpected novice down quickly, a satisfying stream of adamantite pieces falling from its crushed purse.
 
More priests come from the west, forcing her to alternate the direction of her attacks to stay on top of things. They fall easily, but there are so many it is as if she is fighting a pair of immortal, endlessly regenerating foes.
 
She has killed thirty-two fellow priests before she sees a different creature, a cold vortex that breathes frost and shatters some of her healing potions. She prays for resistance to heat and cold, then strikes it down.

The priests have left a mess. More trash than Marash knows what to do with. She hefts a warhammer for a while, getting a sense it is magical. Couldn't possibly be better than her weapon, but might be worth something? Nothing around to test it on, seems. After a while making a fool of herself on patrol, she puts it down again.
 
The pewter rod turns out to detect traps. Not of huge use to someone whose prayers do better. At which point she realises she has been carrying around some scrolls of trap detection for a long time, and tosses them aside.
 
Seems to be a distinct lack of evil in this part of Angband. That's good, right? But whatever is about, Marash cannot sense it from afar.
 
An unexpected paladin's attack teaches her something about a cloak she just picked up off the floor - that it is definitely better than the cloak she had been wearing. But the paladin has friends...
 
Every so often, she must pray to be freed of the magical fear they cause in her. Fortunately too afraid to strike is not too afraid to put an arrow in a knight's chest.
 
In the same room she finds a pair of leather boots of stealth. Presumably such honourable creatures as paladins would not deign to pick them up.  Marash suspects free action is more useful in a boot, but these will be worn until she understands them better.
 
Testing with a zombie kobold proves the boots are enchanted to protect much better, so tempting to keep wearing. Her weapon gives the same benefit anyway...
 
A fire vortex rounds the corner. Reflexively she prays to be safe from its flames, then strikes it down.

Marash has entered a darkened chamber. Holding aloft the Phial of Galadriel for illumination, she discovers she has disturbed a chimaera and a king cobra

Marash is full of bad ideas today. Again she enters a dark room and activates The Phial of Galadriel to see, and this time she awakens a chimaera, three-headed fusion of goat, lion and dragon. Even the goats she's met are tricky, and she's not had good experiences with dragons either. Somehow, it isn't evil.
 
She pulls back and blesses herself, waiting to see what action it takes. For a while they trade attacks, then it breathes fire at her. No shock, but only now does she reinvoke her protection from that element. A few mutual misses, then it bites again, flames rising up from its mouth to burn where she is bitten. She hisses, determined not to let the pain distract her.
 
Finally it flees, falling to an arrow in the back.
 
There had been a king cobra too, but that gives her no trouble.
 
Carelessly she marches on, killing a wood spider, invoking protection to do battle with a gnome mage. For some reason the gnome summons a purple mushroom patch to its aid. Marash wades through them, to the room beyond, firing a stream of arrows at the spiders and ghost within. She is surprised to realise a water vortex has entered from the other side; its spray of acid damages her shield despite the anti-acid abilities of her amulet. It dies too.
 
To descend, or not descend? Some of these creatures are getting dangerous, with their breath damaging her kit. And yet, for the most part, she is having an easy time of it yet. There are stairs leading down on a twisty path ahead, not too far from here... she shall compromise, and head down, but take the long path.
 
Along the way she detours to pick up her old cap of beauty, which ought to be worth something on the surface. But the room which once held priests now holds an unexpected swarm of cave orcs, which need dealing with.
 
Carelessness will surely kill the priest. Having taken care of the orcs, Marash is faced with deciding if she will find room for a scroll of teleportation or a potion of true seeing too. Hoping battle with other monster on the path to the stairs will save her this decision, by using up enough of her resources for her to have room for more, she first destroys an orc shaman, then blunders into a room entirely off her path containing a bizarre, pulsing mound of flesh. A quylthulg, apparently.

Marash comes face to face with a mysterious, menacing mound of flesh

In a place like this, anything that weird has got to be horrendous. Maybe she could retreat now and not face it at all. It is awake, but surely a creature that is merely a mound of flesh cannot move, cannot pursue her.

She activates The Phial of Galadriel, in case it is hurt by light. It isn't, but as Marash backs out of the room it summons a killer stag beetle to attack her. Summoning, she decides, places it in the category of creatures too annoying and dangerous to let live.
 
Marash uses one of her staves to slow the quylthulg, then blesses herself. As the stag beetle dies the quylthulg blinks from one side of the room to the other, irritating Marash further. Surprisingly, her arrows kill it quickly. She fist-pumps triumphantly, gathers her arrows, and moves on. There's a pseudo-dragon that's begging to be taunted.
 
She tires to activate the phial to light the pseudo-dragon's chamber, but fails and is instead blinded by its dark breath. Fumbling with it while blind works, and despite her improper use of a rod of curing her eyes recover naturally.
 
The rod of drain life ends the pseudo-dragon. Then Marash compounds her foolishness, realising this path does not lead where she needs to go, and further detours down a path which soon leads to another run-in with Nár. Definitely not prepared to face him now, she runs until her confusion abates, then uses the prayer of Portal to escape. But that places her in another unexplored region, where on her flight back to known relative safety something unseen in the darkness behind is breathing acid at her, corroding her cloak and armour.
 
After a long, hard look at what she is carrying, she finally reads one of her Recall scrolls.
 
In town, she dumps as much of her stuff as she can spare in her home, refills on arrows and grabs a pair of recall scrolls. She also, since the studded leather armour she bought there previously has become so corroded as to be worse than a plain regular fresh set of the same, stops by the armoury to pick up a suit of augmented chain mail for nearly four and a half thousand gold pieces.

In the shop, Marash sees a high quality suit of augmented chain mail, providing more than twice the protection any other armour on offer

Seems a good price for such great protection. After praying for her stomach to be full, Marash reads a scroll and is returned to the depths of Angband.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

The Bobby-Soxer by Jonathan Craig

Originally published 1953 in Manhunt (short story collection); this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

R18+

(V, L, S)

Violence {M}

Sexual Violence {R18+} {any depiction of sexual violence gets this rating automatically}

Coarse Language {M}

Sexual References {PG}

 

Representations

Gender:

Two women present in story. Viewpoint character is seventeen, and revealed in twist ending to be a sex worker (i.e. we are meant to have the shocked realisation she wasn't the 'innocent' victim of attempted rape she appeared to be (even though she actually was)), pretending to be naively unaware of the interest she attracts from men; the other is part of the crowd gathered to condemn the attempted rapist, urging his death; no communication between them. Attempted rapist depicted as wild-eyed weirdo, visually differentiable from 'safe' men, other men so enraged by rape they crowd together to beat and kick him while helpless.

Sex:

Heterosexual-only, framed entirely in terms of power, purity and commodity.

Race & Ethnicity:

No characters marked. Presuming all white US citizens.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

Apart from the from the would-be rapist looking "funny and wild-eyed", no mention.

 

Notes

This story reads like an MRA's paranoid fantasy. An apparently innocent girl, unaware of the lust she inspires, is assaulted by a stranger in an alley while out walking. Fortunately she screams, and an angry mob descends to begin beating the attempted rapist without a further word from her. The police request she come back with her parents to give a statement but - shock twist! - she continues on to her destination where we learn she is actually a sex worker. The editors even acknowledge the author's misogyny in the introduction as a running theme in his work (personally, I would have just not put the story in).

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Level 20: This Place Looks Uninteresting
 
A lot of uruks to the south, not much else. By the map she has conjured, they don't look able to reach her. She could try and kill them for anything of use they might hold, but that would mean fighting them.
 
But then, aren't orcs an easy foe now? Although these lurk deeper than any she has yet fought...
 
With a shrug, she sets herself to dig them out. Curiosity, killer of cats and perhaps half-troll priests.
 
Her first discovery: light does not hurt them. Her second discovery: if she can control the fight, uruks are not more dangerous than other orcs. She uses her last two scrolls of identify to learn the orcs dropped a potion of charisma restoration and a potion of curing critical wounds. Marash keeps the healing potion.
 
She disarms a trap blocking the rest of the area and stumbles across an energy hound. It seems to have some kind of electric bite, but doesn't cause her trouble.
 
There must be more of them... Marash tracks to a likely chamber and finds two more energy hounds. One of them breathes lightning at her, doesn't survive drain life very well. The other she kills more conventionally quickly. These might worry in numbers.
 
This place seems uninteresting... a drider? What's that?

Apparently not much. It flees into a mess of novice mages, which leave behind a likewise mess of mostly weapons on the ground when they die.

Marash fights a sasquatch in an empty room; she is badly wounded and it is almost unhurt

Marash makes the mistake of trying out a sword they dropped and stumbles into a sasquatch almost unprotected. It wounds her badly, enough that by the time she gets her Westernesse maul in hand death seems almost certain.
 
In desperation, she prays to be portalled away, and it works. Time to rest and recover. Hopefully quickly; detecting evil a whole mess of uruks and mirkwood spiders nearby, the orcs on the march. She places herself ready to defend and rests.
 
An even fight? Even blessed and protected from evil, her trollish regeneration is only enough to keep up with the damage the uruks do to her.
 
Even. No healthier nor more wounded, when orcs and spiders stop coming. Definitely lower on arrows. Behind them a clear hound approaches.
 
Seven hounds, more spiders and a zombified orc later, the area seems clear. Time to rest.
 
After resting Marash takes up a staff of curing and sets off in search of that sasquatch. A pack of white wolves sets on her, and she needs to rest again afterward.

A priest and a hippogriff walk into a fight with an adventurer...

On the long, meandering path back, expecting every moment to see the sasquatch come into view. She meets a priest instead, and by the time she has called up her defences, it has called forth a hippogriff.
 
Stepping back into the corridor, they prove little trouble. But having to pray so often not to be afraid is definitely annoying.

A few steps apart in a dark corridor, Marash and the sasquatch face each other down

And there's the sasquatch. Experimental results: sasquatches are resistant to bright light, but not to drain life, being hit in the head, or arrows.
 
Level 20: This Place Looks Uninteresting
 
A quick jaunt to the surface, selling a few things, storing a few things, stocking up on arrows... She bought a staff of identify, which convinced her to switch back to her old cap. Is it /really/ more important to be smart than beautiful?
 
Uninteresting indeed - a blubbering icky thing? She hadn't seen one of those since most of a mile toward the surface. And then the two-headed hydra came into view. New creatures are bad news.
 
She turns her rod of drain life on it, and the hydra flees. The first creature that wasn't immune or named to survive. Very worrying. Marash pursues.
 
The Phial fazes it none, and even having been hurt by her rod it is a tough beast, casting terror at her and soaking up many arrows before it falls. At least it leaves a lot of jewels and coins for the trouble.
 
Nothing evil, nothing evil. Overconfidence, for sure.
 
She runs into a pack of energy hounds and tries to fight them in the open. Their breath destroys one of her wands of sleep monster, so finally she gets the message to retreat and control.
 
They don't seem willing to follow. Back and forth, firing and striking... they don't hurt much. If only she could protect her items. Using a staff to slow them has minimal effect.
 
She is almost pleased to be interrupted by a black mamba, something she can kill convincingly.
 
It is a stand-off. Too many hounds, and they won't expose themselves to be dismantled cleanly. Marash retreats, writing off the arrows she has already expended.
 
A pack of white wolves? Comfort food relatively speaking. Nearly cleared out when something breathed lightning at her. A hound had looped around after her. An intolerable insult, that, and she traced its path back to pepper the hounds with arrows until they stopped existing. Fortunate not to lose anything else to their lightning. She reminds herself not to try that again.
 
Rather, she should be heading down instead of getting clogged up with trinkets again. She scans for exits, and decides to take the long path through a neekerbreeker, just to see what it is.
 
And when did she switch from avoiding fights to seeking them out? That must be her problem, and mayhaps well-paid for. Evil, venomous crickets breeding like mad, put down before they got out of control but... the path she took to seek them out, and now heading for stairs down, places her between a water spirit and approaching ogres.

To the west, a line of ogres approach. Immediately to the east, a water spirit cuts off Marash's retreat

Managing to take those down, more easily than feared, and now more ogres approaching from the west. Dragons there too, and some other creatures... but she has fallen into this trap again. What profit in fighting those? None, but risk of death. She heads for the stairs, but the remaining ogres approach, and she finds it prudent to knock them down before retreating below.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Three-Ten to Yuma by Elmore Leonard

Originally published March 1953 in Dime Western; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

M

(V, D, L)

Some violence {M}

Drug use {PG} {tobacco}

Some coarse language {PG}

 

Representations

Gender:

All characters male; a wife and children of unspecified gender are mentioned for off-screen.

Sex:

Only implicit in the existence of the aforementioned marriage.

Race & Ethnicity:

One character references having got his start with the law tracking Apaches. All characters appearing in the story are unmarked US residents.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

No mention.

Awards

None found.

Notes

I was quite surprised to see the title when I turned the page, but unlike the last one, I enjoyed this story a lot. Very nice build of tension throughout. Thinking I should take a look at the various film versions and see how they compare. Probably should put Elmore Leonard on my reading tour list.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Dock Walloper by Benjamin Appel

Originally published 1953 in Dock Walloper (short story collection); this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

PG

(L, S, D, V)

Coarse Language {PG}

Sexual References {PG}

Drug Use {PG} {alcohol}

Violence {PG}

 

Representations

Gender:

Only a couple of female characters, story told from perspective of one man, albeit in a third-person semi-omniscient way. One female character described thus as flaunting her looks to punish men generally for not marrying her.

Sex:

Nothing but heterosexuality mentioned.

Race & Ethnicity:

Gang leader is of Irish ethnicity. One character in the hierarchy is referred to by an anti-Italian slur when people are unhappy.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

Some characters gain weight as a consequence of living a corrupt life of leisure. Otherwise no mention.

 

 

Notes

This one I have been putting off doing. I didn't like it, not because it is done badly (I don't think it is) but because it is upsetting. Guy gets out of prison, all he wants to do is go straight, work a job and not have trouble with anyone. But the connections that got him the job won't take no for an answer, so he gets pulled back in and, finally, trapped in a situation that just isn't going to end well.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Level 17: "This place looks uninteresting"
 
But the magic mushroom patch makes it look a whole lot more interesting. Once the hallucinations fade she returns and shoots it.

Via detect evil Marash senses a forest troll, six uruks, and a baby multi-hued dragon. All asleep, none nearby, but in the direction of further dungeon exploration

Another scan for evil reveals the presence of uruks, a baby multi-hued dragon, and forest trolls in the region. Not having encountered any before, Marash assumes them all to be dangerous and heads around.

More orcs up north! Nothing for it but to get through them. She rambles around and everything seems fine until a Master Yeek summons a swarm of assistance. Two gnome mages, three cave orcs and- what's that? A clear hound, whatever that is. She is lucky to be able to see it.

Marash, standing just inside a corridor. With her to the south is a cave orc. In the room to the south, crowded around the entrance but blocked from reaching her by the orc in the tunnel, are a clear hound, two more cave orcs, two gnome mages and the master yeek that summoned them all

Very. Risky. Situation. She assumes. Relatively healthy, but not in perfect condition. Low on opportunities to call on divine help. Protected from evil, blessed and resistant to fire. Worn down from the ochre jelly, still.
 
She took the risk of aiming her latest-found wand at the orc before her, scaring it. The rabble shifted, Master Yeek out of sight, replaced by the baby multi-hued dragon she'd wanted nothing to do with earlier. Bad situation indeed, and her fire resistance has faded.
 
Nervous, nervous, but what can she do? There's that scroll of *Destruction*... which seems so tempting to save that keeping it might be her death.
 
Do what you can. Bigger weapons for bigger foes... and right now she has a bead on two cave orcs. Two rods of light, one use each and one orc shrivels into nothing, leaving the dragon to take its place. The dragon dies when Marash drains its life and she breathes easier again.
 
More orcs down, a gnome mage too, feeling more confident. And yet... that hound is still out there, plus maybe the forest trolls (if the dragon found its way to her, why not them too?), and whatever else the gnomes and yeek have called from the depths.
 
She peeks around the corner. Just a solitary hound, another gnome mage, and nothing else that worries her. She pulls back to wait.
 
An orc, blasted away by light. She puts an arrow into the gnome's scruffy hobbit friend, the gnome shatters some potions of Cure Serious Wounds with a bolt of frost. A second arrow puts an end to that.
 
The hound approaches and she tries her wand of fear on it to no effect. She sends a couple of arrows its way and... dead? She shakes her head. Wounded, and fled beyond range of her infravision.

Marash collects her expended arrows waiting for the hound's return, then kills it and fills out her kit with a nice pair of leather gloves dropped by a gnome mage. Nothing special, except she's never had gloves before.

In the distance, with the aid of detect evil, and in various directions, Marash is aware of the same forest troll and six uruks from before, as well as a gnome mage, a master yeek, a dark elven mage, two more cave orcs, a skeleton kobold, and a kobold shaman.

After had consideration, torn between greed and prudence, Marash finally decides to take the prudent path and return to town, rather than chase down the remnants of that ambush. She reads a recall scroll and waits for her exit.
 
Level 17: This Place Looks Uninteresting
 

In the darkness, beyond the reach of her torchlight, Marash can make out the glow of a magic mushroom patch.

The area immediately arround her is dark, and empty, but in the distance she spies another magic mushroom patch. Dread.
 
One arrow teaches her they can teleport themselves. The second destroys it.
 
As she wanders this place, Marash feels unchallenged. Black orcs, which worried her when last they met, fell easily. Black nagas too, and the place is sparsely populated. Just when it seems time to proceed down she spies Brodda, the Easterling. Perhaps cleansing the world of him is something worth doing before she departs this place.
 
With her protection up, she tries a rod of light on him. Nothing. Repeatedly she tries her rod of drain life; Brodda covers half the distance between them before it activates. It hurts him, but not enough. Marash switches to arrows from her shortbow until he flees and then dies.
 
She can see he dropped something. As she examines it, Marash realises this is The Phial of Galadriel, precious indeed. She tucks it away safely, with her lantern.
 
Marash locates some stairs, calls forth protection. Time to head down...

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Nor Iron Bars by John D. Macdonald

Originally published March-April 1947 in the Doc Savage; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

PG

(D)

Drug Use {PG} {tobacco}

 

Representations

Gender:

No female characters.

Sex:

No reference to sexuality or relationships.

Race & Ethnicity:

One black character under imminent threat of lynch mob, all other characters presumed white.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

Viewpoint character recalls a prior dealing with an insane criminal holding a gun.

 

 

Notes

This story is easy to like, much as To Kill A Mockingbird is, for featuring a white man taking on the racism of other white folks directed at an innocent black man.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Level 15: "This place looks uninteresting"
 
A corridor, a door. At least she is momentarily safe. Her first actions are detections.
 
The evil she finds lies down an open path behind her. Most easy, except am illusionist she has not yet defeated. She chooses to move away, exploring deeper.
 
The illusionist appears behind her. She turns the rod of drain life upon it, but fails to activate it correctly. She protects herself from evil; the illusionist vanishes.
 
It reappears after she investigates a room, in easy smiting range. After trading some blows the Illusionist flees again.
 
Marash is soon confronted by a new beast of Angband, a stegocentipede. It seems much tougher than the metallic centipedes she has dealt with so far. Drain life fixes that. The illusionist sneaks up behind her, perhaps emboldened by Marash lacking her ultimate weapon, but she promptly bashes its skull in and takes its silver.
 
She finds some treasure and a nickel-plated wand, and scans again. Nearby evil now, a zombified orc, a baby red dragon and some creature called a homunculus. She returns to the area she initially avoided, no longer worried about the Illusionist.
 
The nickel-plated wand is tried on a large kobold that wakes at her passage, revealing itself as casting clone monster. She may have to be careful with that. The kobold archer and zombified orc try to ambush her during the battle, but she cleans them up.
 
And yet, in the next room, giant rats. If those get out of control she may have to abandon this place. It is worrying for a moment, but she manages to dispose of them.
 
She lets a sleeping cave bear lie and cautiously tries to creep past a giant tan bat. It remains undisturbed and she turns back, only to be confronted by a yeti. A few shots from her bow solves that problem, surprisingly easily. What bizarre menagerie the Enemy keeps!
 
Some more searching and Marash finds herself in possession of a Ring of the Mouse, wondering what cost that carries for the nimbleness and stealth it grants.
 
Perhaps foolishly, she tries it on the baby red dragon, only to discover it makes hitting her target much harder. She frantically swaps it back for her ring of strength.
 
Marash drains the dragon's life and prepares to face the swarm of paladins accompanying it. They aren't so tough, but behind them she sees black orcs.
 
Fighting them mingled is bizzare. Shouldn't orcs and paladins be killing each other? But when some orcs reach the front of the crowd she turns light upon them before praying for protection from their evil.
 
These orcs hit hard! Marash has to turn some attention to healing her own wounds. If it weren't for her being protected from evil, if she didn't have light to call upon, if Marash couldn't heal herself... she doubts she would have survived that.
 
Her relief comes too soon, again. Another stegocentipede hurts her badly, more paladins and black orcs arrive to take advantage of her weakness, and desperately she defends herself against a second onslaught, before finally being able to rest. Her reward for prevailing yet again is a prayer to protect herself from heat or cold.
 
A disenchanter mold? No way she is going near something with a name like that!
 
The ball and chain she won from Grishnakh is damaged in a fire trap, right before she is faced with a clay golem. Fortunately she is wielding a better mace she found above, in the room with the gnome mage and cave spiders.
 
The golem is immune to drain life. Marash chants for battle, and it is not as tough as she feared. The tan bat behind it, however, is literally terrifying.
 
She veers a bit far in a direction she had intended to avoid and picks up a zombified orc chasing her, with homunculus behind. Foolishly getting getting herself pinned down a dead-end corridor by them, she drops some of her weightier loot and says her battle prayers.
 
Marash learns the valuable lesson of being glad her boots protect from paralysis by homunculi, and sets off to scour its home for treasure. She kills a few guardian creatures and drops her Ring of the Mouse in favour of an unknown Onyx ring.

Marash, flanked to the north by a Giant Tarantula and to the south, a Swordsman. Her hp are down to 37/199

She quickly stumbles on a giant tarantula, while a swordsmen attacks her from behind. She is quickly hurt badly and fumbles for a solution. Desperation and healing herself seems to suffice. She kills the swordsmen for breathing room, but soon turns to her rod of drain life when the tarantula refuses to go down.
 
Badly wounded, she becomes aware of a tengu in the area and hopes she is still up to dealing with it. Luckily, the hit and run tactics of a tengu mean Marash is in significantly better condition by the time it is dead.
 
A swarm of novice warriors drop some interesting looking loot, but Marash foolishly explores further and uncovers a nest of giant white lice. She prays for an earthquake, hoping to do them in, but only seems to succeed in trapping herself with them.

A small circle of light surrounds Marash in the region she has disrupted with her earthquake. Lice surround her. She is slowed by the weight of her gear, but in good shape.

Marash continues hacking at lice until her mana returns, then uses an orb of draining to drop lice numbers to a manageble level and finish them off.

The ring Marash has put on reveals itself to be cursed, and drains her strength

She returns and tries on the ring she had her eye on, only to discover it is cursed. Fortunately a quick prayer takes care of that and Marash is off exploring again... except she is trapped. A prayer of mapping reveals, indeed, there is no path out except by tunneling through solid rock. Or taking the stairs down.
 
Level 16: "You are unsure about this place"
 
Her prayerbooks have been weighing her down, so Marash carefully sets down a couple of spares where she can grab them later. A pack of white wolves greet her, but she sees them off. And then, she encounters something interesting...

Sealed off in stone to Marash's immediate south, she senses a near-circular ring of granite containing a number of orcs, a red dragon of some sort, and possibly a dark elf or other humanoid

But she is unable to tunnel her way through to investigate, so sadly leaves the mysterious formation behind.
 
Marash ignores a sleeping rot jelly in favour of a chest on the floor. She snatches up a scroll from the chest to read, only to find it summons the undead. She beat those off and roamed around, accidentally getting herself trapped by a killer brown beetle.
 
The killer brown beetle proves too to be not as much trouble as she feared. She next is faced by a brigand and gnome mages, and very wary after losing a treasured item to her first brigand.
 
When the brigand falls she sends out a line of light and hisses at what is revealed. At least six of the gnome mages, and they appear to have summoned a red worm mass against her.

A line of light pointing south of Marash, illuminating 6 gnome mages and a red worm mass

At first it goes well, but then one of the gnomes launches a frost bolt at her and destroys two of her healing potions. She would pray for protection from such temperature extremes, if only a careless potion drinking had not cost her that gift.
 
Six gnome mages, one giant red scorpion, three phase spiders and eight worm masses later, the gnomes are cleared out and Marash is safe again. They dropped a shield, which Marash can tell is excellent.
 
She takes to using her bow on anything she can't hit, or anything she thinks is unsafe. After killing a patch of yellow mold with an arrow she is rewarded with renewed knowledge of the prayer for resisting heat and cold.
 
She finds a bastard sword that slays demons, and discovers her new shield grants fire resistance, and feeling quite good about herself until, still trying to plot a way into that mysterious structure, she comes upon a hoard of giant fleas. Their breeding outpaces her ability to kill them and she is sure she must flee this place.

Marash is surrounded by giant fleas. To the east they swarm as far as she can see, leaving only the path to the stairs down clear

A last-ditch effort at magically blast them away fails. There are far more even than she had realised.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Who Said I Was Dead? by Norbert Davis

Originally published 1942 in the Dime Detective Magazine; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

M

(L, V, D)

Coarse Language {PG}

Drug Use {PG} {Alcohol}

Violence {M}

 

Representations

Gender:

Mostly men, with a small number of women.

Sex:

The society depicted exists in a heterosexual framework, but sexuality itself was not noticed to play a role.

Race & Ethnicity:

'Gyp' used by a character as a term for cheating someone out of something. All characters unmarked, presumed white.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

No mention.

 

 

Notes

This one was a lot of fun. Rather farcical overall.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Level 12: "This place looks uninteresting"
 
On detections, it does. Evil monsters she would previously have feared, but no longer does. Marash seeks stairs down, worried she has stalled in her quest to destroy Morgoth. Her only path anywhere is past those foes anyway.
 
Dark elf mage and warrior, little trouble. Nor a handful of wolves. Eight paladins, much more trouble, enough to worry. They leave behind money, an extra staff of slow monsters, and a pair of boots.
 
Level 13: "This place looks uninteresting"

Marash, in a single room of the dungeon, surrounded by orcs several layers deep, and their leader. Level feeling "This place looks uninteresting".

Marash emerges amid a cohort of sleeping hill orcs and their leader, Lagduf, the Snaga. He doesn't look too tough at first glance, but facing fourteen orcs while trapped in a corner doesn't seem too friendly to her either. She takes a deep breath and prays for a portal.
 
She lands in a room with no visible exits and barely enough space to hold her. Nothing evil and nearby that she knows of. This makes her nervous that there might be numerous nasty non-evil creatures lurking nearby.
 
Marash creeps north, seeking a path to get at those orcs in a more favourable position. Along the way she finds a moonstone ring and puts it on. Nothing obvious happens.
 
An encounter with some giant white lice proves it to be a moonstone ring of protection, and the lice were guarding a jet ring of strength. Feeling better about this place.
 
After long and winding searching Marash finally finds a corridor back to the orc room. She opens the door nervously. The orcs are awake!
 
She fires off a couple of arrows, prays and chants for protection from this evil, and tries out the orb of draining she has been granted in prayer. It works very well. She fires off another, then stands her ground to hit the orcs as they come.
 
They die almost too easily, until her protection from evil wears off. Her first attempt to restore it fails and she lacks the energy to try again for a while, causing her health to drop from nearly full to about ten percent frighteningly quickly. Yet, in the end, they all die and Marash survives comfortably.
 
Lagduf left her a nice Pike of Lightning, but while trying it out she ran into an ochre jelly that seemed to tear up all her equipment with its acid. She didn't dare strike back. After being unable to outpace it and flee she finally portalled herself away to a safer room, with a gnome mage and spiders.
 
Or not so safe. The gnome mage backs away from her and summons help. At least thirty kobolds appear, including Mughash the Kobold Lord, four large kobolds and eighteen regular kobolds. Maybe more out of sight, but Marash is not about to waste her time detecting evil when there is evil right in front of her.

She starts by praying for protection from evil, then chants to boost herself and hurls an orb of draining at the kobold lord. It doesn't kill him, but does hit him hard and kill at least nine kobolds around him, as well as the gnome that summoned this mess.

 

Marash stands north of a room containing numerous kobolds, surveying the damage she has done to the Kobold Lord Mughash, his followers, and the gnome who summoned them.

 

Mughash looks like he could survive a second dose of the orb, so Marash refrains until he gets closer and she can supplement with the rod of draining, just in case he can heal himself too. Instead, she begins laying into the kobolds with her new lightning pike.
 
It's almost too easy, until Mughash reaches the head of the throng. Her attempt at another orb of draining fails, so she turns the rod of draining on him. She continues her slaughter.
 
The post-massacre item sorting is tedious, but yields a new shield and improved weapon, plus the death of that Ochre Jelly.
 
Her heart stops on further clean-up. Having put down her potions of true seeing to test items, she discovers the scroll is of deep descent only as she sinks through the floor.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Marijuana and a Pistol by Chester Himes

Originally published 1940 in the Esquire; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

MA15+

(D, V)

Drug Use {MA}

Violence {MA}

 

Representations

Gender:

Only one woman is mentioned in the text, and she is not present (only three people are directly mentioned). The male viewpoint character is in a downward spiral over his girlfriend dropping him for lack of money.

Sex:

Through what was written above, only.

Race & Ethnicity:

The author, himself black, noted for being a pioneer in the genre for writing black characters as people and for addressing race; no character in this short piece however is marked that I noticed.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

No mention.

 

 

Notes

Upsetting in its brief, inexorable bleakness.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

I'll Be Waiting by Raymond Chandler

Originally published 1939 in the Saturday Evening Post; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

PG

(L, D, V)

Minor Coarse Language (G)

Mild Drug Use (PG) {Tobacco}

Violence (PG) {Off-screen, allusive, but emotional}

 

Representations

Gender:

One non-viewpoint woman, various men.

Sex:

A hetero romance in backstory partially driving the present, otherwise naught.

Race & Ethnicity:

Hunky used as term for person of Polish descent, applied to protagonist. A throwaway character identified as Mexican. Elsewise no indication other than white USAian.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

No mention.

 

 

Notes

Raymond Chandler seems to get credited as one of the more literary crime writers of his era, and he reads like he knew it.

I was looking forward to this story on the basis of Chandler's reputation as one of THE crime writers of the early 20th Century. Not disappointed.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Waiting for Rusty by William Cole

Originally published October 1939 in Black Mask; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

PG

(D, V)

Drug Use {PG} {Smoking}

Violence {PG}

 

Representations

Gender:

One non-viewpoint woman as major character, several men of varying degrees of importance. Story driven by her relationship with an off-screen man.

Sex:

Very brief story driven by heterosexuality.

Race & Ethnicity:

No indications, assumed all white USAians.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

No mention.

 

Awards

text

 

Notes

Brief and kind of tragic, if you are willing to sympathise with Gun Moll No. 1 (and why not?)

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Human Interest Stuff by Brett Halliday

Originally published September 1938 in Adventure; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

PG

(D, V, L)

Drug Use {PG}

Some Violence {PG}

Coarse Language {PG}

 

Representations

Gender:

A single reference to the existence of women, off-screen.

Sex:

No sexuality noticed as present.

Race & Ethnicity:

Story set in Mexico, starring two USAians explicitly described as white. Mexican men depicted as violent in response to familial insult. Plenty of stereotyping, e.g. 'works well under direction, but lacks initiative'.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

A character off-screened by convenient dysentery.

 

Notes

Might be the first since the first story in the collection to feature a twist ending at the very finish. Rereading to put the rating together, it was obvious at least with foreknowledge, but I managed to overlook most of the "it doesn't make sense if [first impression] but does if [what is actually the case]" held out in plain sight. So I think that is complimentary.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Brush Fire by James M. Cain

Originally published 1936; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

M

(S, D, V)

Minor Sexual Activity {G} {Kissing}

Drug Use {PG}

Violence {M}

 

Representations

Gender:

Most characters including viewpoint male. Some women as visitors.

Sex:

Some heterosexual kissing. An abusive, separated marriage is a plot driver.

Race & Ethnicity:

At least one character white, the rest unmarked US.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

Smoke inhalation is, of course, a danger.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Fruit Tramp by Daniel Mainwaring

Originally published July 1934 in Harper's; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

M

(D, V, L)

Drug references (PG) {Suggestion someone's sons may have been smoking; Cigarette-rolling + smoking}

Violence (M) {Sibling tussling; people showing up with black eyes; a brawl}

Mild Coarse Language (PG)

 

Representations

Gender:

Predominantly male characters, only men move the plot.

Sex:

No direct sexuality, families presented only in monogamous heterosexual format.

Race & Ethnicity:

One off-screen character possibly Japanese (based on being consistently referred to by the narrator as "the Jap"). Anti-Russian / communist sentiment as a trouble-stirrer. Everyone else unmarked US-dweller.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

Typhoid fever mentioned as a thing that happens. One character who incites trouble described as a hunchback.

 

 

Notes

This one didn't feel like a crime story at all. I suppose the violence at the end is against the law... perhaps it does count. The story is about, so far as I can tell, the crushing circumstances of the Great Depression in the US pitting people against each other.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Trouble-Chaser by Paul Cain

Originally published 1934 in Black Mask; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

M

(D, S, V, L)

Drug Use (PG) {Characters drink, off-screen heroin use plays a role in the plot}

Sexual References (PG) {No specifics, nothing on screen, just relationships, affairs, jealousy and fears of perceived impropriety}

Violence (M) {Only once, discreetly depicted, but tense}

Coarse Language (PG) {Barely a word}

 

Representations

Gender:

More women have lines than in any previous story in this anthology, but none with each other. At least several do display agency.

Sex:

People's heterosexual liaisons and jealousy over same is the whole of the story.

Race & Ethnicity:

One character described as Italian, implied as engaged in criminal business. A black woman is employed as a servant, speaks with a thick, stereotyped accent.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

None noticed.

 

Awards

None found.

 

Notes

Another one I liked. Apart from the opener this was the first one that felt like a proper mystery, in that a crime was committed, and the story followed its unravelling. I think a big factor in the stories I especially like so far is a detective I can get a feel for and root for. Even though there is a Chekhov's Ex Machina at the end. >_>

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

Backwash by Frederick Nebel

Originally published May 1932 in Black Mask; this edition 1995

Publisher: Oxford University Press

Collected in: Hard-Boiled: An Anthology of American Crime Stories (ed. Bill Pronzini & Jack Adrian)

 

PG

(D, L, V)

Drug Use (??) {Character is an alcoholic; other characters alcohol and tobacco}

Coarse Language (PG) {Not much}

Violence (PG) {Again not much}

 

Representations

Gender:

I think there is exactly one woman in the story. She is important, but not active.

Sex:

Sexuality of hetero sorts is a driver of the plot, displayer implicitly.

Race & Ethnicity:

Far as I could tell, everyone is white USAian. One character by name and description might have been of southern European origin.

Disability, Physical Diversity and Health:

One character is an alcoholic, does that count?

 

Awards

None found

 

Notes

Liked this one too, although it seemed a bit odd the supposed main detective of the series played so little of a role. Actually I don't think the crime was even solved, although it worked out. Don't think that was the main concern here. This one reminded me strongly of the Harvey Dent plot-line from The Dark Knight.

Profile

aesmael

September 2017

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
101112131415 16
17 181920212223
24252627282930

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated 2017-09-22 22:29
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios