Topher Lydon
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Everything posted by Topher Lydon
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not his "only" weapon
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Ned's definitely his father's son. This chapter went a long way to show it, smart enough to know that Peter could get out of the Manse, where as Ned couldn't... so the only person who could go get West was Peter. His sacrifice, offer, is strategic, which means you are right, he's playing dumb. A lot of smart kids in the system do the same. It's worked for him so far.
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Well Orel's Sausage Delivery Protocol kind of failed, true it was derailed by Tarquin, but Orel is not to be deterred. He is going to get to see Finn naked at some point.
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I mean, he's tried... but everyone keeps getting boyfriends before he can get in there... :: sad Axl music here ::
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I want to be deflowered boy?
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I view him as largely Asexual, take the Barn. He forced Orel on Finn. Directed, gave orders. Not for sexual gratification, but for a clinical psycopathy. His drug of choice is dominion. I don't think sex does anything for him. Relationships would be nothing but performative, I am thinking Hilary and Bill Clinton, he's probably considering a match for power and advancement, but right at this moment nadda, nothing. zip. I think all three of the boys are badly traumatized by their father. And out of them only Orel seems to be able to form a healthy relationship. Now I have images of Tarquin lacing up thigh highs and a whip... Madam Tarkie, class is in session.
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He will get his fate. our King Tarquin is about to face his city turning on him. And Orel's will do what he has to do.
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Can I be honest, I hate him too, it makes my skin crawl to write him, and I have written some awful villains... this one though... it's that I know... we all know what's going on with people like Lord Mendelson right now, Prince Andrew... rich people protected by a system designed to do exactly that, protect them. It makes me seethe, and I think that frustration is boiling out into Tarquin. I want him to get his, just as much as all of you do. We're closing in, pieces are coming together, players are gearing up. the peacock is going to get plucked, stuffed and roasted just like the poor chicken.
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As for Tarquin's plan, oh yes, the bastard has a plan, and a contingency plan. He's sitting in that iron clad bunker that being Rich, old money, and connected provides. That armour needs to be dismantled in a place and manner that it can't be hidden. Gala Weddings are good for that, so many people around, and cameras.
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:: shrugs :: it's funny what a large stack of money given to the DA's office will do to make shakey cases go poof... Then there was the three hula girls found floating in his pool last summer... you know the ones that Tarquin said don't worry about... and then you owed the bastard a favour...
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I've Never Written Poetry Before - Help!
Topher Lydon commented on Valkyrie's blog entry in Gay Authors News
An exercise I taught my students was this: Pick a letter of the alphabet, and try to write a short poem using them: An accidental act, archiving art An anecdote adroitly applied Aiding an Acolyte's advancement -
If there's a chance to screw everyone over, like potentially defrauding 150 townships and crashing the Ontario Provincial economy in the process... probably
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Least Kyle's in the spirit
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And progress, Orel's finallly asking for what he wants. True, he has to use cue cards, but it's still better than bribing Pizza boys for their pants.
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I have never felt more sorry for a Chicken.
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Chapter Twenty: The Nymphalis Antiopa Protocol The floor-to-ceiling windows of the Merrick study offered a panoramic view of the driveway, a strip of grey gravel that currently played host to Oliver’s silver sedan. From this height, Tarquin could see his brother stepping out, followed by the hunched, weary figure of Finn Grady. Behind Tarquin, the soft clink of a crystal decanter against a glass signaled that Miles Strickland was finished with his work for the hour. “The paperwo
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Having had a ... difficult first name as a child, I can relate. I changed mine at 18 and never looked back. Something many parents fail to realize is that their children are not property, and names can be cruel. *ahem* on the other hand, a true name can be liberating. Consigning his "legacy" to the dustbin was one of my happiest days. I remember when I hit the point where I was officially my name longer than I had been his, a settling of satisfaction. Same year he died, so you know, double celebration. *shrugs*
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It's funny I think with Percy Jackson it might make a resurgence. i've always liked it.
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Tomorrow: The Butcher's Bill.
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Found it:
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Coco Chanel's speciality
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I like Jake in this chapter. There was a song a few years back talking about how we are made up of pieces of all these people, stretching back in time. Long lines of people that have lived, loved and lost, fought, won, and sacrificed all so that we can be here and be who we are. It's not just biology, lessons and ideas. The way a song is sung, or the way a table is laid... we're so amazingly complex.
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West will want a word, and so convenient that Graves has his own torture dungeon handy.
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Good morning Let there be trouble.
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CHAPTER 23 - THE OTHER SON Location: The Blue Guest Suite, The Manse Time: 2245 Hours. The robe was silk. Of course it was. Ned stood in the center of the cavernous bathroom, steam from his shower still curling in the air like ghosts. The tile was black marble, veined with gold, cold under his bare feet. He looked at himself in the vast, gilt-framed mirror. The robe was a deep, midnight blue, heavy and cool, embroidered with a subtle, swirling pattern of Eastern dragons. It was
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