Danse Macabre--chapter 4

Anita is going into the room with the guest Masters of the City. With Micah and Nathanial. No Jean Claude. No Asher. Anita alone with two VIPs who could and would eat her if she insults them to their face.

This is like Dubbya entering a room. Any room. There are many many many many people who would do a better job at this. Ronnie (baby comments notwithstanding) Louie, Richard, the Swan King, Rafael (Dear holy Fuck, do you realize that out of ALL the were-whatevers not only is Rafael the only one not dragged into Anita's shit on a regular basis, forced to fuck OR participate in Jean Claude's nonsense more than once in a blue moon, his leadership ability is completely unthreatened and Anita and CO. count him as a friend. He's not on the radar AT ALL. Rafael is like, political GOD. Bet your sweet ass the dude knows what he's hiding from. Good form, Mr. Rat King. Good form. WHY ARE YOU NOT HERE) any single cop other than Dolph.

Fuck. Dolph would at least be up front about his issues.

They're sending in the person who got into a pissing contest over who got to walk through a door first.

Anita has (had) nothing to prove. I do not understand why she keeps doing this.

The two Masters of the City are all right so far, but the two women are sniping at each other.

AND THERE IT IS. Right there. Black and white. It's the women that are the problem. It's that women can't get along.Women can't deal.

I just got done watching Pacific Rim. Women kick ass. Sure, some of us have prickly personalities, but unless you manage to piss people off severely, you shove a group of women against a wall, they're gonna lock arms and shove back. WHY ARE THEY ON THE RECIEVING END OF THIS SHIT.

(For the record, everything in Pacific Rim is awesome).

It has the feel of something that could go south if we don’t have someone to help keep it friendly.”

They're saying this to Anita. TO ANITA. SHE. CANNOT. WALK. THROUGH. DOORS. WITHOUT FIGHTING. DO YOU NOT READ YOUR OWN GODDAMN BOOKS LAUREL. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHARACTER SHOULD NOT BE DOING THIS.

I mean, if Anita said "And you're calling me? God, are we that desperate?" I'd be more cool with it. If Anita having a fuse shorter than a nanobot's wiring were a character trait that everybody understood and just kinda worked around officially--Jean Claude redirecting her, Ronnie smiling and nodding and hiding the party invites to the annual cop bash so that nobody gets flung against walls, Anita taking steps to make sure she's not, you know, in a room full of important visiting dignitaries ALONE--then it'd be a part of her character. There ARE people who have two political left feet, short fuses, and whatever. The problem is that the text treats Anita as if she is fine, and she's not. She needs help. Active, immediate intervention because this woman is destroying. her. life. And she's doing it every time she opens her mouth.

And of course Anita can't psychically call Jean Claude for help, because the other masters might be listening in. Isn't it great how things like cell phones and telepathy break right when you need them?

(There was one point during Pacific Rim where I was screaming "DO YOU PEOPLE NOT HAVE CELL PHONES" at the screen. It was near the end. It involved brains. They needed a cell phone.)

Writer's tip, kids: Best thing you can do is have the cell phone/telepathy/whatever actually work, and have something else come up. It'd be more realistic because deadzones are comparatively rare. (They still exist, but what are the odds of an emergancy happening right there? And everybody involved being on the same carrier?)

We then segue to how Graham and Other Dude both want to be Meng Die's blood apple (fuck the fancy french.) and how Meng Die is unreliable and how she pitched a fit because Requiem wants to be Anita's new breakfast boy, and oh my fucking god. THE MEETING IS THERE. IT IS IN THERE. WALK. TO. THE. MEETING.

...The other masters of the cities have brought Anita boy-toys to sample. Because I HAVE NO IDEA. THERE IS NO LOGIC INVOLVED IN THIS BOOK.

One of my favorite movies is Mixed Nuts. Steve Martin. Most people watch a movie about redemption, second chances and angels during Christmas. I watch a movie about the holidays at a suicide hotline. There's a scene in which two characters recommend they dispose of a dead body disgused as a Christmas tree (It's a long story) by taking it downstairs and leaving it on the Los Angeles boardwalk. Steve Martin replies:

"That is not a plan. A plan has more than one step. First we do this and then we do this and then we do this."

I'm having that reaction to the plot. This is not a plot. THERE ARE NO "THISES" IN THIS PLOT.

Also, Anita? This is how it's done. God bless you, Mrs. Munchnik.

Apparently turning Anita into Prince Charming in her polyamourous personal Cinderella story (the text made the comparison, not me) is all happening because Jean Claude is the blood source for his own very personal line of vampires (Seriously. WHY ARE ALL THE SPECIAL WORDS FRENCH. I know Jean Claude is french but I am pretty confident that vampires aren't unique to the country of baguettes and Marie Antwonette. Wouldn't there be more than one word for this shit?) and the other masters want to impress him, and shoving sex toys at his pet succubus seems to be the best way to do that.

I think I really hate this book.

The chapter ends with Anita admitting that maybe Jean Claude should be handling this.

And with that, I leave you in the capable hands of Mrs. Munchnik.