(no subject)

I’m reading a book called Hell Followed With Us, and I want to reproduce a very good paragraph.

I make it to the mouth of the bridge. I don’t stop, just dive between the wreckage of cars choking the entrance. The bridge shines silver, suspension towers dangling thick metal wires from bank to bank. It belongs to the Angels now. A banner flutters high above me: GOD LOVES YOU. Corpses dangle from the wires, yellow-pink organs hanging from their stomachs to obscure their nakedness, like Adam and Eve ashamed of their bodies.

(no subject)

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(no subject)

Young Souls provides another example for an argument I’ve made before: characters can be interesting if they’re unlikable, but not if they’re uninterested. These protagonists recognize that their situation is more complicated than good and evil, but they don’t really give a shit. They’re good at killing goblins and enjoy doing it, so they’re down to take out any targets they’re pointed at. There’s no hesitation, but more importantly, there’s no curiosity, no wonder, no investment in the fact they’ve been pulled away from their normal lives to fight monsters. They don’t even seem to give much of a shit about saving their foster father.