Bookflog: Mistral's Kiss, Chapter 6
Dec. 18th, 2006 07:52 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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lkh_lashoutsSo Mistral's crying.
Just to get that out of the way quickly.
Just to get that out of the way quickly.
Chapter Six
Short Summary: OH. MY. GOD. MOST BORING SEX SCENE EVER.
Long Summary: I should point out that at the end of the last chapter, Mistral was technically fucking Merry, insofar as the body parts involved in said fucking were in their proper place. However, as Abe had to deliver his dissertation on the goddess Medb who wasn't technically a physical person and how Abe once was the Lord of Pubkeepers, both Merry and Mistral more or less just lay there and listened. And then Mistral went all glowy and stormy.
And started to, yes, cry. And I quote, "It meant a great deal to [Merry] that Mistral, master of storms, cried when he tasted [her] body."
No, moron, he's crying because it's been a thousand years and he gets a woman that just lays there yammering. And REALLY? Merry's so good she drives men to tears the second they stick it in? Does the Andais know about this? Has the US government been informed that they've got a potential WMD thrashing about somewhere in Illinois?
Merry comments that if they'd been alone, she might have questioned him about the crying thing, talked about it, which gave me a wild leap of hope that maybe for once they weren't going to stop to chat about why Mistral is crying. Jackie Frost made fun of him when he was a wee raincloud? Doyle laughed and called him a little bitch? Andais dressed him in zippers and made him call the lightning? Sholto bit off his nose repeatedly? His penis is too big? Oh, wait, that must be someone else I'm thinking of.
Anyway, my speculations aside, Abe says "it's been too long." Ah-so. Abe's speaking for Mistral, naturally enough, and it really says something about the sex scenes in these books that I've actually gotten used to people who are uninvolved in the sex delivering a running commentary throughout. And "groin" is not a sexy word. Never has been, never will be. When it became an acceptable term for all sex scenes, I'm sure I don't know. Doctor Thesaurus has alternatives.
As an aside, Mistral is freaking huge. From Merry's vag to her "upper stomach." I'm not sure, but that may make Mistral the current reigning champion in both the Anitaverse and the Merryverse. I'm doing a mental inch count and all I can come up with is, "he's got to be taping that thing to his knee on his downtime."
The next page or so are copy/pasted from DM and SoM, so I'll skip those. Mistral shudders, Merry shudders, and the neon lights go twinkle twinkle. Mistral then announces he wants to bite his way down her body and Merry lays the rules: no blood, no permanent marks, because he hasn't done enough "prep work" for that.
"Prep work?" He made it a question.
Really? I thought the fucking question mark made it a question, dumbass.
"Foreplay," translates Abe, thus proving that not only has Mistral not gotten laid in a thousand years, he's also not hip enough for the room. Sex with Merry should include a mandatory verbiage class just to save the necessity of an on-call translator.
Mistral then demands more room from Abe, which is pretty damn polite, because if it were me I'd've been asking Abe why the hell he thought his presence was still necessary and telling him to go sit in the tree and wait his turn. There's a circle of neon lights around Merry and Mistral that the wind can cross, but nothing else can, and Merry pauses, again, in the midst of sex to explain that magic circles are special things that let some things in and keep others out. Apparently magic circles don't keep out unnecessary infodumps, but I think I'm going to pour a circle of salt around my computer and hope things improve.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is why sex scenes go on for seventy-five billion chapters. Because in LKH's world they include conversations, lectures, arguments, sonnets, and Letterman's Top Ten reasons why a man would cry while fucking Merry. Being reduced to strapping a board to their asses so they don't fall in is number two. So degrading.
They're still blabbing, for the record. Mistral recites back Merry's orders word-for-word because we weren't (as readers) clear on them the first time, and Merry tells him he has a good memory. At which point he says "Memory is all [he] has," and the "raw pain" comes back into his eyes. Every single man in both fucking series has raw pain in their eyes. But at least Merry has a rare moment (or would be rare if she hadn't said it three times in the last book) of self-knowledge and says that it's not that she's so special, it's that for half the men she's fucking, she's their only option. I think it's pretty goddamned insulting to assume that every man will take Merry over nothing, especially knowing that they're in for the longest and most verbose public sex of their lives, but what do I know?
Mistral then commences biting. Sometimes not hard enough, sometimes too hard, and this goes on for pages. And then he bites her somewhere particularly tender--below the waist--and all I can think is, Jesus Christ, OW! It can't be that large a proportion of the population that would find that anything but painful, especially as it necessitates figuring out a new position for fucking, which, twelve pages later, still hasn't started yet. Merry screams and starts thrashing again, and then the next discussion of which particular position should be used begins. I have never in my life seen so much dialogue in the midst of a sex scene. Mistral has to be convinced to carry on over the next five pages are so--and I wish I were exaggerating because I'm two more lines of dialogue from grabbing my paperweight and bludgeoning myself to death with it--and Merry finally just orders him to fuck her. I quote. But it's only an order if he wants it to be, which means we're in for another two pages of arguing before they finally agree on a position and get the hell on with it. If Andais is watching this she must've clawed her own eyes out by now.
And I'm sorry, as LKH figured we needed to hear this four times, it's worth quoting:
The front of me was sore, but the rest of me was eager.
"You're wet," Mistral said.
"I know," I said.
"You really did enjoy it."
"Yes."
"You really do like it that rough."
"Sometimes," I said.
Are we all clear now on this point? Sometimes Merry likes it rough, sometimes she doesn't. Sometimes she can enjoy it. Like, really enjoy it. Think you need to hear it again? Because this doesn't constitute filler at all.
He stared down at me, and his eyes flashed bright, so bright that for a moment his face was half obscured by that white, white light. The brilliance faded, leaving afterimages in my vision. But without the lightning, his eyes weren't the grey of rain clouds; they were black. The blackness that rolls across the sky at midday, and sends us all running for cover, because just by looking at the sky, you know that something dangerous is coming. Something that will drown you, burn you, concuss you with the power that is about to fall from the sky.
Oh, dear God, IF ONLY. I particularly love the pronoun shifts.
And Merry is afraid. So Abe butts in once more to convince her that she won't, in fact, be killed, because "...in this time and place, you are theGreatest Mary Sue of All Time Goddess, the earth to meet the strike of the sky."
And then "Mistral chose that moment to remind me he was there" because in the midst of endless fucking doctoral thesi on why Merry is great, it's easy to forget. And it just goes on. Stop and start and conversate, switch positions, Merry still likes pain, and finally, after the longest chapter ever written in the history of the world and the most eye-gougingly boring sex I've ever had the misfortune to encounter, Mistral finishes and cries again. I want to die. I sold my soul to Satan two pages before the chapter ended. Oh, and when Mistral cries, it rains.
I have this mental image of running head-first at my wall just so I can kill the brain cells that will remember this idiocy.
Short Summary: OH. MY. GOD. MOST BORING SEX SCENE EVER.
Long Summary: I should point out that at the end of the last chapter, Mistral was technically fucking Merry, insofar as the body parts involved in said fucking were in their proper place. However, as Abe had to deliver his dissertation on the goddess Medb who wasn't technically a physical person and how Abe once was the Lord of Pubkeepers, both Merry and Mistral more or less just lay there and listened. And then Mistral went all glowy and stormy.
And started to, yes, cry. And I quote, "It meant a great deal to [Merry] that Mistral, master of storms, cried when he tasted [her] body."
No, moron, he's crying because it's been a thousand years and he gets a woman that just lays there yammering. And REALLY? Merry's so good she drives men to tears the second they stick it in? Does the Andais know about this? Has the US government been informed that they've got a potential WMD thrashing about somewhere in Illinois?
Merry comments that if they'd been alone, she might have questioned him about the crying thing, talked about it, which gave me a wild leap of hope that maybe for once they weren't going to stop to chat about why Mistral is crying. Jackie Frost made fun of him when he was a wee raincloud? Doyle laughed and called him a little bitch? Andais dressed him in zippers and made him call the lightning? Sholto bit off his nose repeatedly? His penis is too big? Oh, wait, that must be someone else I'm thinking of.
Anyway, my speculations aside, Abe says "it's been too long." Ah-so. Abe's speaking for Mistral, naturally enough, and it really says something about the sex scenes in these books that I've actually gotten used to people who are uninvolved in the sex delivering a running commentary throughout. And "groin" is not a sexy word. Never has been, never will be. When it became an acceptable term for all sex scenes, I'm sure I don't know. Doctor Thesaurus has alternatives.
As an aside, Mistral is freaking huge. From Merry's vag to her "upper stomach." I'm not sure, but that may make Mistral the current reigning champion in both the Anitaverse and the Merryverse. I'm doing a mental inch count and all I can come up with is, "he's got to be taping that thing to his knee on his downtime."
The next page or so are copy/pasted from DM and SoM, so I'll skip those. Mistral shudders, Merry shudders, and the neon lights go twinkle twinkle. Mistral then announces he wants to bite his way down her body and Merry lays the rules: no blood, no permanent marks, because he hasn't done enough "prep work" for that.
"Prep work?" He made it a question.
Really? I thought the fucking question mark made it a question, dumbass.
"Foreplay," translates Abe, thus proving that not only has Mistral not gotten laid in a thousand years, he's also not hip enough for the room. Sex with Merry should include a mandatory verbiage class just to save the necessity of an on-call translator.
Mistral then demands more room from Abe, which is pretty damn polite, because if it were me I'd've been asking Abe why the hell he thought his presence was still necessary and telling him to go sit in the tree and wait his turn. There's a circle of neon lights around Merry and Mistral that the wind can cross, but nothing else can, and Merry pauses, again, in the midst of sex to explain that magic circles are special things that let some things in and keep others out. Apparently magic circles don't keep out unnecessary infodumps, but I think I'm going to pour a circle of salt around my computer and hope things improve.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is why sex scenes go on for seventy-five billion chapters. Because in LKH's world they include conversations, lectures, arguments, sonnets, and Letterman's Top Ten reasons why a man would cry while fucking Merry. Being reduced to strapping a board to their asses so they don't fall in is number two. So degrading.
They're still blabbing, for the record. Mistral recites back Merry's orders word-for-word because we weren't (as readers) clear on them the first time, and Merry tells him he has a good memory. At which point he says "Memory is all [he] has," and the "raw pain" comes back into his eyes. Every single man in both fucking series has raw pain in their eyes. But at least Merry has a rare moment (or would be rare if she hadn't said it three times in the last book) of self-knowledge and says that it's not that she's so special, it's that for half the men she's fucking, she's their only option. I think it's pretty goddamned insulting to assume that every man will take Merry over nothing, especially knowing that they're in for the longest and most verbose public sex of their lives, but what do I know?
Mistral then commences biting. Sometimes not hard enough, sometimes too hard, and this goes on for pages. And then he bites her somewhere particularly tender--below the waist--and all I can think is, Jesus Christ, OW! It can't be that large a proportion of the population that would find that anything but painful, especially as it necessitates figuring out a new position for fucking, which, twelve pages later, still hasn't started yet. Merry screams and starts thrashing again, and then the next discussion of which particular position should be used begins. I have never in my life seen so much dialogue in the midst of a sex scene. Mistral has to be convinced to carry on over the next five pages are so--and I wish I were exaggerating because I'm two more lines of dialogue from grabbing my paperweight and bludgeoning myself to death with it--and Merry finally just orders him to fuck her. I quote. But it's only an order if he wants it to be, which means we're in for another two pages of arguing before they finally agree on a position and get the hell on with it. If Andais is watching this she must've clawed her own eyes out by now.
And I'm sorry, as LKH figured we needed to hear this four times, it's worth quoting:
The front of me was sore, but the rest of me was eager.
"You're wet," Mistral said.
"I know," I said.
"You really did enjoy it."
"Yes."
"You really do like it that rough."
"Sometimes," I said.
Are we all clear now on this point? Sometimes Merry likes it rough, sometimes she doesn't. Sometimes she can enjoy it. Like, really enjoy it. Think you need to hear it again? Because this doesn't constitute filler at all.
He stared down at me, and his eyes flashed bright, so bright that for a moment his face was half obscured by that white, white light. The brilliance faded, leaving afterimages in my vision. But without the lightning, his eyes weren't the grey of rain clouds; they were black. The blackness that rolls across the sky at midday, and sends us all running for cover, because just by looking at the sky, you know that something dangerous is coming. Something that will drown you, burn you, concuss you with the power that is about to fall from the sky.
Oh, dear God, IF ONLY. I particularly love the pronoun shifts.
And Merry is afraid. So Abe butts in once more to convince her that she won't, in fact, be killed, because "...in this time and place, you are the
And then "Mistral chose that moment to remind me he was there" because in the midst of endless fucking doctoral thesi on why Merry is great, it's easy to forget. And it just goes on. Stop and start and conversate, switch positions, Merry still likes pain, and finally, after the longest chapter ever written in the history of the world and the most eye-gougingly boring sex I've ever had the misfortune to encounter, Mistral finishes and cries again. I want to die. I sold my soul to Satan two pages before the chapter ended. Oh, and when Mistral cries, it rains.
I have this mental image of running head-first at my wall just so I can kill the brain cells that will remember this idiocy.
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 01:46 am (UTC)Apparently magic circles don't keep out unnecessary infodumps, but I think I'm going to pour a circle of salt around my computer and hope things improve.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is why sex scenes go on for seventy-five billion chapters. Because in LKH's world they include conversations, lectures, arguments, sonnets, and Letterman's Top Ten reasons why a man would cry while fucking Merry. Being reduced to strapping a board to their asses so they don't fall in is number two. So degrading.
my personal favorite part of the whole damn thing. you win the internet.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 03:20 am (UTC)*eyes fill with RAW PAIN*
*just like NATHANIEL/RICHARD/ASHER ETC AD NAUSEUM*
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 04:07 am (UTC)Why is Rainman here sprouting headlights all of a sudden? Is he an oncoming car?
wow... that thing just sounds painful. **offers a cookie in consolation** You are braver than I for reading through this muck.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 06:13 pm (UTC)*snicker* oh those poor emasculated faery boys.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 06:14 pm (UTC)...I actually dread what LKH would do if she really wanted the boys to get angst-ridden. Likely, someone would (or has already) wank about their ginormous penis size.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 04:34 am (UTC)I have nothing else to say to this...
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:24 am (UTC)I get that saaaaaaame feeling with all these chapter flogs.O__O
He stared down at me, and his eyes flashed bright, so bright that for a moment his face was half obscured by that white, white light. The brilliance faded, leaving afterimages in my vision. But without the lightning, his eyes weren't the grey of rain clouds; they were black. The blackness that rolls across the sky at midday, and sends us all running for cover, because just by looking at the sky, you know that something dangerous is coming. Something that will drown you, burn you, concuss you with the power that is about to fall from the sky.
Oh, dear God, IF ONLY. I particularly love the pronoun shifts.
Oh, now that was just a little gem. Really, an exemplary piece of writing from a grand work of wonderful literature.I applaud her truly great writing /*end sarcasm*
And yeah...I wish that lightning would strike them too. And fry 'em into crispy critters. :p
And Merry is afraid. So Abe butts in once more to convince her that she won't, in fact, be killed, because "...in this time and place, you are the Greatest Mary Sue of All Time Goddess, the earth to meet the strike of the sky."
Oh, SNAP. She really IS the greatest Mary Sue of all time. :p Even worse than Anita, probably.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 06:23 am (UTC)*ponders ---- from distance*
no subject
Date: 2006-12-19 05:38 pm (UTC)Of course, we'd all die of alcohol poisoning, but at the least the pain would be numbed.
And Mistral? Look out. Anita's coming for a piece of your big dick.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-20 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-21 05:11 pm (UTC)*de lurking for moment*
Date: 2006-12-20 02:42 am (UTC)And is it sad that I -still- think that Merry Sue still has more plot than the current Anita books? *sighs and shakes head*
no subject
Date: 2006-12-20 03:28 am (UTC)Cookies to you for doing this.