Shoot for the Moon, Son - Chapters 6-10
As promised, here is the next bunch of chapters and commentary. While this story is not as large as most stories go - it is a decent length of 50, 343 words - there still is a lot of nonsense in it. These stories generally take some time to unravel, because I'm not only interacting with the text but I need to add articles and other factoids to the author's poor research habits. In this instance, a good chunk of my text revolved around Antecanis confusing Eastern Inuit peoples with Alaskans, and this will continue until the end.
He had calmed down a little – wondering how things should continue from here on. He couldn’t quite say why he was so angry – of course, the fact that Haytham was keeping him in the dark about quite a few things was infuriating, but at the same time, Ratonhnhaké:ton was aware that he was not telling the Englishman all he knew, either.
Look, you're angry because you're sexually frustrated. That's it. Haytham was being deliberately evasive with you and you should not have expected anything less. You knew he was bribing you to join him, so why are you getting upset? The concern you should have is what Haytham's end game is - and, by Chapter 6, I haven't a clue as to where we're going.
It had been fine to travel with Haytham – in fact, he had enjoyed the week-long journey down to the outpost. But now that the other was so focused on socializing with these other kass’at… Ratonhnhaké:ton grumbled to himself.
You're an outsider. You know you're not white. Haytham is, so it's natural for him to mingle with people of his own race. Did you not just complain to him that the other white men were looking at you poorly? Short term memory loss is a helluva thing.
In any case, Connor is acting like a horny teenage girl because most authors can't write good sexual frustration. Sexual frustration should have a reason, because otherwise, you're just a rutting animal desperate for your fix. It adds tension and meaning to the want and desire of a fledgling relationship; in the worst cases, it can lead to assault or rape. Not something we really want to deal with. Chances are, we won't see it here, but Connor is acting like a brat for no reason. He barely knows Haytham, and he's mad white people...are leaving him alone? OK, bud.
And despite the other’s silence about his motivations, it was true that the Englishman had been rather straightforward about his plans on raiding that Russian harbour further south. He had provided the younger hunter with a weapon, a map and let him verify the information himself. So far, Ratonhnhaké:ton had no reason to believe that Haytham was lying to him. But the other’s behaviour irked him endlessly; ever since they had arrived here yesterday, Haytham was so damn focused on everyone but him…
We know he wants to fight the fur traders, but we don't know why he wants to. If it isn't for money it's another, more sinister intention. Why Haytham didn't just use the Hudson's Bay Company is beyond me. But that would require a little bit of research, wouldn't it?
Boo hoo. Cry me a river. Go spend some time among the other Natives. You do stress you're one of them, don't you?
He half-expected – or hoped, perhaps – that Haytham would show up while he was mending the gear, and they could… clear things up. Ratonhnhaké:ton knew that he had reacted poorly.
You're telling me, buddy. No rhyme, no reason, no need for bitching.
Maybe the snow would ease up over the next day or so, and after restocking some provisions, they were good to go. Haytham had wanted to reach the traders’ outpost before spring came, and so, Ratonhnhaké:ton reckoned, they would have to leave soon – it was quite a way down; a month at the very least, if they were not delayed by the weather.
1. You delayed meeting Haytham in the first place, which landed you smack-dab in the middle of winter.
2. You want to sit out the rest of winter until spring arrives to get to the trading outpost, when you should have done that before winter hit.
3. If you knew it was down south you should have traveled by the coasts and then inward.
4. If you plan on moving down south in the middle of winter, which would take a month, with limited food and supplies it's a suicide run.
I understand none of this rationale.
Some people could predict the weather quite accurately, and in some families this sort of knowledge had been taught early on. Ratonhnhaké:ton had never learned this particular skill, and he often wished he had. He understood it to be dependent on the light, the winds and the clouds, but…
Pretty sure you did learn this skill, as you knew when the blizzard was going to hit before you went to collect Haytham. Glad to see retconning happens within a few chapters.
Ratonhnhaké:ton leaned against the cool wall of the smithy; trying to pull himself together. That restless, stinging feeling in his guts was not easing up; no matter how many deep breaths he took. The air was cold and biting, but somehow it didn’t help him with the warmth in his cheeks, and his throbbing, burning heart.
You're getting a boner for your dad, son. A wonder boner.
It wasn’t that he was concerned about Haytham’s well-being – no, it was… He huffed. That young man had looked at Haytham in a way Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen before – and, perhaps, in a way he could… sympathize with. Would Haytham return those advances? The Englishman had kissed him during that first night – but then… nothing more.
Yes, and a kiss that had no rhyme or reason to it. What's great is that Connor is completely ignorant to Haytham being his father, which falls into the moral dilemma of this particular incest being wrong: if you didn't know the other was your sibling or parent, was any crime committed? In any case, Connor is too focused on advances at the moment rather than wondering about the expedition AKA goose chase Haytham wants to send him on.
Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen men entangled like that at the outposts; rarely, and only at a glance. He was not entirely sure of the details, but he had an idea how it worked. Would Haytham really allow that? Would he touch that other young man like that? After they had been together, just the two of them, for over a week?
This would be one thing if it was a hookup story. But this isn't it. This is meant to be a romance story, and a 'slow burn' one at that. There's nothing slow about this. Connor is already thinking about Haytham screwing another guy, and he's getting all flustered and embarrassed over it. Spare me.
Irritation nudged Ratonhnhaké:ton’s insides. Why would Haytham so willingly return that young man’s advances, after he had spent a week sleeping next to a young man he could have so easily – He shook his head, but it didn’t help to clear it.
I've never liked lampshading. It shows the author was trying to answer any objections the audience might have, but it's done in a way as if they don't know it has the opposite effect. Some minor mistakes can be fixed in later chapters if the author is good enough, but most roll with the mistake they made and it evolves into an uncontrollable mass.
Did Haytham think this would aid their mission? Was it another case of using someone else’s proclivities for his own advantage? Irritation and hot displeasure clawed at the young man’s insides. They didn’t need that young man’s insight this badly, did they? Haytham seemed to have a solid plan already – why would he do this? He couldn’t… couldn’t like that young man, right? That profit-driven, wine-affine, low-life trapper boy…
Gee, you think? Haytham told you he needed those trappers to give him the goods on the settlements you want to raid, and he's going to get what he wants by raiding their asses. Sound good? Not if you're angry by a white trapper twink, it doesn't.
Ratonhnhaké:ton stood in the door frame and glanced from one to the other, his gaze landing on Haytham’s ocean-grey eyes. He could see that the Englishman was entertained, though he could not say why. “I… I have some information that I need to discuss with you urgently.”, he said, speaking to Haytham and thus not directly answering the other’s question. “You didn’t open the door.”
The best part about this reaction is that it stems from obsession. There is no reason why people with a genuine interest in each other get jealous that easily, especially since Haytham already gave Connor his reasons why he was seeking him out. Connor goes from being moody from being alone among white men to jealous that white men are taking attention away from his object of desire. It's foolish.
The young trapper wanted to respond, but Haytham placed a hand on the other’s shoulder and seemed to quiet him through that. “My apologies, Samuel, I reckon we have to postpone the rest of our conversation. I appreciate it. I will come and find you tomorrow, if you don’t mind?”
The trapper, whose name appeared to be Samuel, made a face but nodded. “Aye, alright. I will be seeing you, Haytham. We shall continue… the conversation.”
...He just told you his name. Why would you write 'appeared to be' when it was a statement?
Ratonhnhaké:ton let out a deep breath and tried to decide whether or not he wanted to stay. Part of him wanted to rush off – if Haytham was so willing to leave him just on anyone’s invitation, Ratonhnhaké:ton shouldn’t stick around… He shouldn’t run after this fucking kassaq… Groaning, the young hunter flopped onto Haytham’s bed; staring up at the ceiling. At least it was warm here. He could take a nap and leave if the other hadn’t returned by then. Perhaps he could make Haytham chase after him for once… Like the first time they had met, and Haytham had come out into the tundra for him… No. For his information, not for him.
One thing I have never liked about stories like this is how often authors will write these characters as having bipolar tendencies: they want one thing and feel one thing one moment, before doing a 180 and deciding that's not how they feel at all. The authors spends 6-8 paragraphs establishing that Connor feels a connection to Haytham he cannot explain and how he was willing to break down the door because Haytham was about to sleep with someone else, before writing this paragraph about how Connor isn't willing to do anything at all for him. It's petty behaviour, and I can't stand it in writing.
Why the fuck was he so damn obsessed with an arrogant kassaq? He curled in on himself a little. We are alike, Haytham's voice echoed in his head. Was that really true? Because he felt like he was in so much chaos ever since they had arrived here at the outpost, and Haytham seemed to be in his element. He was so entirely… smug and confident here, more so than out there, where he had been determined and tough, surely…
You're telling me. You're obsessed for no reason. Aside from these dreams and the skinny dipping Haytham did in arctic waters, there hasn't even been enough build up or tension to develop any connection. This, 'I hate you but I love you' really only works when you have established a genuine love-hate dichotomy. In this case, it's a result of Connor being on his man period.
Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered. He wondered what would have happened if Haytham had ignored the knocking. If they had kissed again. He recalled the feeling of the other’s lips and tongue against his own; only this time… He shifted a little. This time, Haytham could see him. Those ocean eyes would rest on him once they broke apart; see only him... His eyes really were like the ocean.
"You have ocean eyes that are like the ocean!" So, unpredictable and toxic if you drink too much of it? Apt metaphor!
They said you could never learn the ocean – never truly understand its capricious, violent nature. You could learn the hills and lakes of the tundra, and you could stay safe on the land, but the ocean… You cannot learn the ocean. Ratonhnhaké:ton rolled on his back and thought of those blue-grey eyes, and the way Haytham fixated him with his glance.
"You can't learn the ocean because you can't learn the ocean" is like the meme 'This pant is made of pant.' It's not as creative or poetic as you want it to be, because you already made the statement the ocean cannot be tamed. Also, I thought the tundra couldn't be tamed either, as it was dangerous and you needed to prepare or else it would kill you?
He hesitated only briefly, and then pushed down his pants a little; just enough to be able to touch himself. There had been few occasions where he had felt this need, but the notion of Haytham being here with him, watching him… it was entirely too tantalizing.
If it's not a shower masturbation scene, it's a bed or chair masturbation scene. Honestly, I don't mind them but this one doesn't really have a case. I can't argue for it.
His whole attention focused on Ratonhnhaké:ton; no distractions… No errands, no other men… The notion sent a hot shiver down his spine, and the young hunter caressed himself, imagining Haytham being here; wearing this terrible shirt, his hair a bit undone... If he came back now, mere minutes after he had left for dinner; drawn back by the prospect of continuing that fleeting moment… And he would find Ratonhnhaké:ton on his bed; legs spread a little… The young man gave a soft huff.
Just don't masturbate when you're spending the month long trek down south for this still unexplained plot, yeah? Clean up after yourself when you're done. Can't have your dad seeing your ejaculate on your face.
He had never particularly liked people’s touch, or even people’s recognition. But for some reason, he couldn’t get enough of Haytham’s attentions. He wanted the other to touch him more; hold his face as they kissed, trail over his skin with his hands and lips as they were close, and like this, now, envelop his throbbing arousal with his clever fingers…
Here is the admission Connor doesn't like being recognized, yet earlier, the author wrote that Connor was offended he was not recognized by other white men. Do you see what I mean about the 180 logic? We just spent the past half chapter on Connor's indignation Haytham wasn't paying attention to him or taking him seriously, but now we find out he doesn't mind because he actually likes Haytham playing hard-to-get.
Best part of this chapter though has to be the ending, and it isn't the ending:
“Ngh… Haytham…!” Ratonhnhaké:ton gave a soft cry as he came; for a moment remaining as he was before he let his eyes flutter open. He almost expected Haytham to have manifested there from his fantasy; sitting at the table and regarding him with desire. But the room was empty, and the young hunter sighed.
Word of advice, when writing men ejaculating, please, for the love of God, just make them go 'Oh' or just have them moan. Because whenever I see 'ngh' or 'hnngh' I think you are having a heart attack.
For Chapter 7 I want to highlight the author's note and what she thinks is setting for her plot, vs what is actually happening:
The title of this chapter describes "a place where people lose their sense of direction and get lost". I think the outpost is exactly this for Ratonhnhaké:ton. Most of his life, he has been by himself and struggling to form connections to others. Meeting Haytham made him think that he has found a kindred spirit, but here at the outpost, their differences are highlighted. Ratonhnhaké:ton has to figure out what he really wants, and if he can risk putting his trust in someone else for the first time in his life.
Being a 'kindred spirit' means you have some form of connection to the person you are kindred with. So far, I haven't seen any dialogue that sets up even a 'business-as-usual' relationship which Haytham has with Shay Cormac. Haytham only sees Connor as a means to an end, and Connor cannot decide whether he wants to be angry at being an outsider or content with it. It is important that your textual evidence matches with what you are saying. If it doesn't, people like me notice and I will use it against you to call out your hypocrisy.
If Haytham could so easily run off, Ratonhnhaké:ton shouldn’t stick around like a little puppy waiting for his master to come back. And part of him knew that if Haytham had come back before he had managed to leave… He was worried about giving the older man everything. The information he desired, his body to do with as he pleased, his affection, trust and loyalty; his help and his desires…
What information? What affection? What loyalty? I haven't a clue as to what information Connor has Haytham seeks! Is it his knowledge of the tundra? Settlements? The south? Traders? Russians, what? Tell me, man!
Secondly, Connor is already a lost puppy when he, in a fit of jealousy and spurned love, masturbates in Haytham's bed. But it looks like he's being bred to obedience if he wants to give Haytham his body already, even though they've known each other for a week.
Instead, Ratonhnhaké:ton had run away – scared by the way his heart throbbed and his guts stung; scared what would happen once Haytham returned. He wanted to focus on something else – anything but those chaotic feelings, thoughts and desires swirling inside of him. But he also didn’t want to be alone; not with all these intrusive ideas and fantasies.
It is not 'running away' when just a paragraph earlier you are fantasizing about giving your body to a random man. When you have sexy thoughts, stick with them. Don't give me this bullshit about how you don't want it.
In the lodge, Connor talks with another Yu'piq capable of teleportation about how he's bringing medicine to his family as his village has come down with a deadly illness. I can assume it's measles, smallpox or tuberculosis.
“I’ve heard of people getting sick, too.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton said quietly. So far, it had been stories about people way down south, so far away that he hadn’t been sure if it was true. He had never been that far away from the tundra – his journey with Haytham would take him further than he had ever been. He had journeyed inland to the outposts sometimes, but that had been the extent of his travels. “I hope you will be able to keep your family safe. I have not met your sister, but your brother has been very kind to me.”
I have a hard time believing Connor doesn't know how diseases spread among the coasts. Tuberculosis was endemic in North America before the white man arrived, and smallpox and other diseases were so horrible to either race there's no way it could not have arrived by way of talk up there.
Ratonhnhaké:ton’s cheeks reddened a little. He couldn’t help but think back to lying in Haytham’s bed, and somehow wishing he could stay there and wait for the other’s return. “I… I’m travelling with someone.”, he said avoidantly.
Wouldn't talk spread throughout the settlement that the token 6'3 Mohawk was traveling with a white man? I mean, Connor turns heads no matter where he goes because that boy is fucking huge.
But I had to post this entire conversation because it cannot be explained out of context.
Allirkar cocked his head. “Eh?”
The young hunter shook his head slowly; his heart leaping into his throat. “I don’t know yet if I want to stay with… with him. I thought I did, but I'm so nervous now. I feel like I can't trust myself because I want this too much. Or do I? I – I don’t really know what to do. I’m better on my own, you see. I’m not used to being around someone like this, and I’m worried I’m trusting him with too much… But how can I know? My head gets so… confused.” He was stuttering a little and the redness of his cheeks had darkened. Why was he even so flustered? Fidgeting with his hands, he glanced up to meet Allirkar’s gaze.
This is where the 180 logic will become a constant feature of this story. Just a few chapters before - nay, a few paragraphs before - Connor was fine being on his own. He did not want to interact with white people. Now, because of Haytham's sweet talking, he's ready to undergo this entire character flip-around. He was angry that other white men did not take him seriously or ignored him, to being fine with it, to being angry with it again because Haytham is about to shag a fur trader instead of him. And like a smart, 180 IQ man, decides to tell a fellow Native how he wants to have sex with a white man.
You can imagine what the other guy's response is.
The older hunter seemed slightly confused and perhaps taken aback – Ratonhnhaké:ton wasn’t sure if the other had understood the implications of his words – the notion of being with a man in the ways he shouldn’t be. His breath caught in his throat, aware that he had started to talk about something he shouldn’t be speaking of – but it had felt good to voice this chaos in his head, and he had jumped at the chance to speak about this with someone else. Clumsily, he readied himself to get up. He shouldn’t have talked like that – hinted at these private things in conversation with someone he barely knew. “I- I have to go…”, he stuttered, wondering if he was making things more obvious. He staggered to his feet and took a step towards the door.
It was said earlier in this story Connor has seen two men embrace each other and kiss before, even at settlements, so this really shouldn't be all that shocking to him. It is impulsive and dangerous to voice it openly, especially to a stranger who doesn't really know you or has your trust. He could have gotten away with saying he had tumultuous thoughts about the white man he was escorting and his Yu'pik friend would have immediately understood. I get that Connor out of all the Assassins has issues with socializing, but even he isn't this stupid.
Once they had stepped away from the door, Haytham turned around; his expression somewhat irritated, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. “You change your mind too quickly, boy.”, he muttered.
Ratonhnhaké:ton bristled. “What are you talking about?”
“One moment, you quite literally save my life, and then have your jealousy entertain me – the next, you insult me, or run off to turn other men’s heads.”
The best part about these stories is when canon characters say what's on my mind.
With a hint of confusion, the young man stared at him. He could barely see the other in the darkness – there was an oil lamp outside of the building they had just left, but it was dim and not close enough to truly let him see the expression in Haytham’s eyes. “I’m not –“, he started, but stopped as he realized he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go with that sentence. I’m not jealous. I’m not running off. I’m not insulting you. And most of all – he wasn’t turning anyone’s head!
”You are the one running off constantly!”, he brought out after a moment, his voice wavering just a little. “You are the one… socializing like this…” His voice trailed off but his eyes flickered to the half-open shirt that had been distracting him all evening.
May I ask why you're wearing an open shirt in sub arctic temperatures when you can get frost bite in 5-10 minutes?
Haytham raised his eyebrows. “I am doing what I came here to do. I am gathering information, and trying to forge some alliances which will help us secure passage and protection if we need it after our mission down South. You, on the other hand, have been nothing but a nuisance today. How can I rely on you, if your erratic behaviour stays like this! I thought I knew what you wanted, but I have come to believe that you yourself do not know it!”
Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at him; his heart racing at the other’s blunt words. He was angry, but he was also hurt and confused. They had stayed here for just a day, and it already all seemed to fall to pieces. Travelling with Haytham had been easy – the week had gone by so quickly, and they had not had such difficulties with each other.
Wonder whose fault that is. Couldn't be the person overreacting to literally nothing.
Part of him just wanted to rush off again – no kassaq should talk to him like this – but he didn’t want Haytham to be right about him running off. He crossed his arms as he tried not to fidget with his hands; his gaze directed anywhere but the man in front of him. “I know what I want.”, he claimed brusquely. “And I’ve done what you have asked of me today.”
Just a few chapters earlier we read that white men don't view Natives very well, so why is Connor acting shocked he is being mistreated? You're dodging the ethnic cleansing down south and you wonder why you're looked at weird? Stop being a baby and be logical for once.
The young man remained quiet; trying to sort through the chaos in his head. He wanted… Thoughts of meeting his father bubbled up, thoughts of helping his peoples, of wishing to belong somewhere - to someone, perhaps, thoughts of the desires for the older man who was just an arm’s length away now. But all of this seemed too incoherent and impalpable to voice.
Why wasn't this the main concern? This is Connor's raison d'être; it's the main drive of the story. No one would have known he was really thinking this is acting upon these goals unless the author said so. This is one major weakness of the plot: no one is really doing anything, but they say they are going to do something. If you're never actually going to do what you plan on doing, what's the point of you foreshadowing all these events? It's useless.
Damn right it's coherent. Connor isn't even experiencing desire here, but a fleeting sexual impulse.
How could Haytham always see right through him like this? It was both irritating and alluring.
You're not exactly being aloof here, buddy. Your intentions are as obvious as third degree burns.
He had felt good about accompanying Haytham when they had set off after the blizzard, and he had somehow thought that this journey would give him a purpose that he had been missing in his life before. But his mind was more chaotic than ever.
Really? That's not what I got reading this. I got the impression Connor was unsure of what Haytham really wanted and that they were on burrowed time to reach the outpost. There was a distinct sense of urgency, I recall. But that's fine, you can retcon your own story - who needs to remember what you wrote?
For most of the morning, he busied himself with this task, first looking after his own team, and then Haytham’s. The older man’s team was in a good shape; it seemed as if the Englishman had paid someone else to check up on them because they were already well-fed when Ratonhnhaké:ton looked after them.
Glad to see you don't care about your sled dogs because you're too busy fantasizing about your own father. But hey, post-nut clarity and all.
He didn’t dare to go to Haytham – not without some sort of… answer that the other seemed to expect. Similarly, he didn’t want to return to the backroom where he might run into Allirkar again; fearing the other's reaction to what he had hinted at.
You are wasting time here. You really are. You waited too long to go to the outpost to make the trek south and now you are stuck there until spring arrives. This is no one's fault but your own. Second, Haytham being a prim and proper character, he would not want to waste time if a good day permits travel. His dallying is putting their mission at risk. Third, it is also Connor's fault he happened to tell a fellow Native that he had same sex desires for an Englishman. I get you want to talk to someone, but there's a thing called 'being privy'.
Everything seemed to coalesce within Haytham. He was the one point of stability Ratonhnhaké:ton yearned for – which made him even more resistant to say that it was what he wanted. He had never needed anyone – not after what had happened to the Agalikmiut; to his family. He didn’t want anyone to have power over him; he didn’t want to rely on anyone. Part of him wished he had never met Haytham; his mind would not be so terribly confused now.
I still do not know what Haytham wants, or what the ultimate motive is for him to fight fur traders down south. Realistically it cannot be the Russians despite Antecanis' insistence, so it has to be someone or something else. Here we also see that 180 logic in effect again: Connor 'doesn't need anyone', and has prided himself on working alone, and now he feels as if Haytham is the anchor in his life. Now, Haytham has complete power over Connor and the reasons for this are, frankly, ridiculous. No one with a proper brain can see it, but then again, people just see the pairing and logic blows up into the wind.
Ratonhnhaké:ton remained silent; regarding the other with big, dark eyes. He had never considered himself to be special – different, yes, but… He did not have the abilities someone gifted would have. He could not aid people like that. Oh, but he wished he had those powers, and could fly up to the moon to see his father.
I assume that in this alternate universe, Connor does not possess Eagle Vision. He is 'special' in specific traits, but what these traits are I haven't a clue. At this point, though, I am getting tired of these moon allegories. I know it's in the title and I know it's big in Inuit culture, but there is only so much someone can take before they get bored. Antecanis seems to think that if she invokes it enough like some protective chant, no one is going to notice the bad storytelling.
“When did you start feeling this way?”
Ratonhnhaké:ton remained quiet for a bit; his heart aching. “Since we came here.”, he admitted eventually, his voice quiet.
“Ah. And why do you think it started here?”
“Because…”, he started. His cheeks burned as he averted his gaze and stared at the unfinished figurine in his hands. “Because he’s suddenly… busy with… with socializing with others. I… It makes me want to run away. It makes me so angry.” His voice had gotten small, and he didn’t dare to look at Allirkar.
This is a great and illustrative example of unfounded jealousy: you are angry at a man you've known for a week socializing among white men you said looked at you wrong. For a hunter who prides himself on being alone, why should this even be contentious? You're getting what you want. You're not being insulted. You know you will never fit in. What is the purpose of this clinginess, this 'it's not fair you talk to other people!' obsession?
None. There is none. It's just meant to highlight some romantic tension.
After a moment of silence, the older hunter remarked gently, “Of course, I can’t tell you if you can really trust him. But I think you have just spoken of the worry that he will leave your company for someone else’s, and you are running to be the one leaving first. Are you running to leave him behind, or are you running to have him follow you?”
Leave it to an NPC to put everything on the table.
Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t want to believe that he was turning away because he wanted Haytham to chase after him, but… the prospect of leaving and indeed never seeing the Englishman ever again turned his stomach in panicky ways. How could his head be in such disarray, after merely a week of travelling with the older man?
I could make a very, very macabre joke about all this lampshading, but I've decided not to. I'll just let the author think for herself whether this admission that the characters haven't a clue about their feelings or actions is a sign she failed basic storytelling.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t idly sit around, either.
You've been sitting around for an entire day moping. Quite sure you already broke your own roles.
What had he expected, really? That Haytham would wait in his room all day for Ratonhnhaké:ton to come by and tell him what he wanted? He returned to his make-shift bedding, and crawled into the array of blankets and furs with that stinging feeling in his guts making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t hungry; he wasn’t tired – he felt foolish, and alone.
Again, you don't need me to tell you how stupid all of this is. I'll just let the text speak for me. Though it takes me longer to interact with the text here vs speed reading like I do for my 1400 word reviews on FFnet, I can just let the reader decide what specific quotations are the worst. Did we not just read Haytham telling Connor that he'd be around later to speak to him? No? Well then I guess your memory is better than the author's, dear friend!
Seven chapters in, are we really getting anywhere?
He was the moon's dog, after all, and without it, he felt lost. After long hours, the young hunter fell into a restless sleep.
You know what they say about full moons: it makes people go crazy. By Chapter 8, we still haven't gotten anywhere in this story, though Antecanis promises a misunderstanding will be 'cleared up'. We'll see.
The young wolf could feel the other’s arousal as the bear pressed close – they were both human without their fur, and their embrace was that of equals. Ratonhnhaké:ton recognized the other’s familiar scent; his heart aching. Without the furs that separated them, they could see how alike they were – the wolf’s creed, the bear’s order, and yet, they were humans now; entangled.
This is the only reference to Assassin's Creed I can find here. Aside from the clichéd, italicized flashback/dream sequence in which Connor early has a bestiality session with a bear, there's nothing related to the games. It's just...moon metaphors.
Perhaps it was too late, and perhaps he would make a fool out of himself
He would give the other his aid, his affections, his body, his knowledge and attention. But only if the older man returned this desire; only if this was a mutual pact - he wanted the other's attention in return; he wanted Haytham's entire focus, at least when they were by themselves.
This is in Chapter 8, after two chapters were spent on Connor's confusion and turmoil over whether he wanted to screw his dad. Well, here we are: the penultimate moment.
Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted the other to see him – for who he was, all of him, and just him. He desperately wanted to forge this connection – for the first time in his life, he felt like he could. But baring himself like this; trusting like this… it was difficult and risky.
Why are you doing it, then, if you know there is a risk? Aren't you a man who defined himself based on risks? Ah, fuck it. Overthinking gives me a headache.
It had only been a little over a week, and yet, Ratonhnhaké:ton realized how much he had wanted the other to kiss him again.
😒
“T-tonight…”, Ratonhnhaké:ton stuttered, and Haytham shifted so that he could see the younger man’s face. “I s-saw you leave, to meet the… the other… that young… did you…?”
Reminds me of this:
Amusement was visible in the Englishman’s bright eyes, and Haytham snorted lightly. “Your jealousy is rather entertaining, boy, truly.”
I'll say.
Ratonhnhaké:ton clenched his jaw; a bit of stubbornness gleaming in his eyes. The other’s subtle mockery would not distract him from what he needed to know. “Did you – did you…?” He left it unspoken, but he knew that Haytham could tell what he meant - Did you sleep with him? Did you give him what I so desperately ask of you; your attention, closeness and desires?
Buddy you've only known this guy for a week. Your jealousy is uncalled for. So what if Haytham fucks other dudes? You don't own him. Whatever happened to you being the lone hunter?
He knew he was too obsessed with the way Haytham looked at him - those ocean eyes transfixed on him sent shivers down his spine, and made his heart speed up to a steady, drumming rhythm. He was feeling light-headed and as if he was dreaming still - pleasantly unreal.
To be honest, the paragraph this is in is written very well. Were it not for this ridiculous pairing and even more ridiculous storyline, it'd fit perfectly in a romance. But I'm not counting my lucky stars just yet.
It was a feeling he had only ever had in rare nights - staring up at the moon, and feeling like someone was staring back at him. It was a feeling of being seen - not just seen as something or someone he was not; but seen as himself, as all the potentialities that were bundled up inside of him at all times.
I have not seen this potential at all. Connor has all the interest of a box of crayons without a sharpener. There is nothing to work with here.
There were stories about how other beings could see you – how their view of you was different, depending on what you did. Ratonhnhaké:ton had always understood this notion of his behaviour determining how he was perceived – if he hunted like a wolf, other wolves would recognize him. At the same time, he felt that these actions – him being out in the tundra by himself – obscured his human form for other hunters; and he had wondered if it was the reason he had never formed any meaningful relations with humans; that he had felt closer with the pack of wolves out in the tundra. But Haytham… just like the moon, he seemed to recognize Ratonhnhaké:ton just the way he was.
1. I have not seen a single wolf in this story.
2. If this petty jealousy is anything to go by, you have all the personality traits of a lamprey, sucking on the flesh of a fish like a parasite and leaving a nasty, gaping hole behind. And that's not going to be the only thing gaped here.
3. If Haytham is anything like the moon, once he comes out once a month Connor goes absolutely haywire.
Yes, your behaviour determines what others see you as. Connor has been a moody, jealous, one-dimensional character who is upset his dad shags other men. There is nothing else to his personality at all aside from this parasitic relationship.
Ratonhnhaké:ton had never been entwined like this before - the elders had warned him of coming too close with women, and he had never particularly wished for anyone's proximity. But there was something about the other that had fascinated him from the moment they had met, and he could not explain it.
Yeah, we know, because that's all you ever talk about.
Half of Chapter 8, and most of Chapter 9, is dedicated to sex. Now, I'll be covering most of the scenes but I really, really want to highlight this ridiculous passage here.
The small bottle Haytham produced from the pouch was familiar to the young hunter – he remembered how Haytham had used the oil from it to maintain his weapons, and ease the mechanism of that odd hidden blade. He had an idea how the oil was used, and he shuddered.
First, you're not supposed to use machine oil or any lube meant to make machinery operate smoothly as anal lube. I suspect in this case seal oil is being used, but that is far too fatty. It's going to make an absolute mess. True, machine oil is both silicone based and water based, same as anal lubes, but they're not meant for human consumption.
He moved onto the older man’s lap and flung his arms around the other’s broad frame. He caught Haytham’s intense gaze and was struck by the wanton expression – making him wonder once again why they had not indulged in any of this during their week-long trip down to this outpost.
Because...you just met? You were dallying around and moping?
A soft gasp of surprise left him when Haytham eased another finger into him and started to move them – stretching him and spreading the oil more thoroughly. Ratohhaké:ton was panting softly – his attention divided by the movement of the other’s fingers into him, and Haytham’s lips and teeth on his neck. “Nh…”
If we're still using that machine oil, apparently it's a 'sweet smelling' oil, so it cannot be the oil used to lubricate weapons. Anyways, what did I say about heart-attack language spoiling sex scenes?
He could feel the older man’s hot breath on his neck, and his stomach churned in anticipation while the sensation of Haytham’s fingers moving inside of him had slowly turned into something strangely pleasant – the slickness and rhythm of it creating a maddening promise of pleasure.
Thank you, Ctrl F, for I discovered that 'pleasure' was used ten times in this sex essay.
Playfully, Haytham seemed to let him anticipate the moment he would fulfil the younger man’s request – kissing and nibbling at the other’s neck, but not quite doing what Ratonhnhaké:ton had asked of him while his fingers continued their thrusts. The young hunter whined; squirming in hot anticipation. Then, suddenly, Haytham’s teeth sank into the sensitive skin, and Ratonhnhaké:ton gave a soft cry of surprise – and pleasure.
I've read enough smut, gay and straight, over the years to know that when you abuse the word 'pleasure' it becomes an apt drinking game. I don't mind it being used a few times - it serves its purpose well and you don't always need to replace it with flowery prose. However, when it is used all the time - and 'ecstasy' is up there, too - you lose me. I then become more distracted on words, vs action.
Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen the other naked before – briefly and in a moment that had been far from intimate – but the sight that presented itself to him now was beyond anything he could have imagined.
I was about to ask, 'when did you see him naked?' and then I remembered how Connor saved Haytham from his arctic skinny dipping. In that scenario Connor didn't really see Haytham naked as he hid his extremities from it, and they were really too close for any observation. But eh, whatever.
He savoured the way the low fire cast soft shadows on the older man’s scarred skin and muscular chest, and how it let his hair appear like strands of gold weaved into a silver sunrise on a winter’s morning. The other’s ocean eyes looked dark; like a stormy night on sea, when one hoped to find back to the shore. His arousal left no doubt that he desired the young man, and another hot shiver of anticipation ran through Ratonhnhaké:ton.
I confess: this isn't bad. Not bad at all. But what I've noticed is that, along with the moon metaphor, Antecanis really loves using 'ocean eyes' for Haytham. It's the de-facto call sign for him like 'the moon' is for Connor. It gets repetitive.
He caught Haytham’s glance and let himself be lost in those ocean eyes. Clasping the sheets of Haytham’s bed, Ratonhnhaké:ton felt the other’s cock press against his ass; slick with oil, hot and firm. The young man was panting softly; his stomach hot with anticipation, want and a hint of nervousness. Would it feel good? Would it be what he wanted it to be?
Haytham has so much water in those eyes of his he could've purified the water of Flint, Michigan.
Soft, strangled sounds left Ratonhnhaké:ton’s lips into their messy kiss as Haytham moved forwards and slid inside of him. His shaky fingers guided the other’s slick cock, and he somehow enjoyed the feeling of firmness and warmth against his fingers; the feeling of their bodies uniting underneath his fingertips. The sensation of intrusion became more bearable as he could feel their bodies meeting; as he could kiss Haytham while they became one.
You've got four paragraphs dedicated to Haytham's cock going inside. Don't you have anything else to say?
And I gotta ask: how long is Connor going to hold his fingers there to push in his dad's dick?
Haytham bowed his head a little but did not break their eye contact. A small half-grin played around his flushed lips, and after a moment in which he seemed to seek for composure, he replied, “Boy, I’ll make you mine…”
....and pack it all in with a bow on top.
Ratonhnhaké:ton allowed his hips to move on their own; meeting the older man’s thrusts as much as Haytham’s firm grip allowed. “Nh – ah, Haytham… Feels… feels good…”, he managed out; holding the other’s gaze.
What did I say about that heart attack lingo?
Being watched by the older man still excited him, and it was only spurred by the feeling and sensation of them being one; of Haytham seeing him like no one ever had – and probably no one else ever would. It was an intimacy that wasn’t marked by the physical act of having sex, but rather, for Ratonhnhaké:ton, an action of vulnerability and openness that had been incredibly hard for him.
Oh, really? If I recall correctly, it wasn't hard for you to masturbate on his bed and mope about how he wasn't paying attention to you. Were you being 'vulnerable' when your jealous attitude was getting in the way? No, you were just being a needy bitch.
Letting someone else embrace him, and see him; giving someone else power over him; it all had been a leap of faith.
And this is definitely a 'roll in the hay' isn't it?
“Ah, Haytham… Haytham…” It was merely the other’s name that left his lips, but Ratonhnhaké:ton meant so much more – it were unspoken words of gentle affection, trust and appreciation; an expression of the warmth and pleasure that pulsed through him now. “Ngh – H-Haytham!”, he cried out softly as he came – spilling over his fingers and his stomach, and clenching up tightly around the older man’s cock.
Haytham adjusted his position, and nudged the younger man to raise his ass more. Ratonhnhaké:ton realized how Haytham wanted to take him, and he shifted on his hands and knees; legs spread as he could feel the older man move behind him. He glanced back at the other; content to know that Haytham was the one watching him this time.
The older man leaned over him; his half-hard cock pressed against Ratonhnhaké:ton’s ass, and rubbing against it in pleasant, slick friction.
Look girl , I don't know if you've met a lot of guys but they need a break after they ejaculate. Unlike women, who can orgasm in quick succession, men need to recover.
The younger man allowed quiet, eager noises to come over his flushed lips plentiful; his head bowed as he held up his shaking hips. Haytham shifted slightly, and as he pushed inside of the other’s body again, a sudden, odd yet intense sensation jolted through Ratonhnhaké:ton's body. “Ngh – Ah!” He couldn’t help the soft cry that left him; taken entirely by surprise by the strange pulse of sensation rushing through him.
OK, this is getting ridiculous now. Stop that.
He could hear how Haytham stroked himself to completion; weirdly enough wishing the older man would finish inside of him – though… he reckoned it would be a mess, and an odd sensation to have Haytham come inside of him.
It'd be noisy, too.
Perhaps he would tell Haytham the full story one day; and perhaps, then, the older man would share why he was so interested in it – and why he cared to stop the Russian sea otter pelt traders, if not for his own profit.
I still, to this very minute, do not know why Haytham wants to stop the Russians. I am literally at the Da Vinci code level. But not to worry! Chapter 10 will finally have all those moon explanations!
Chapter 10 has five paragraphs dedicated to Connor wondering where Haytham is. To shw you, I'll quote each reelvant line:
He blinked; stretching and taking in the morning. He wondered where Haytham was – perhaps he was just briefly stepping outside to relieve himself or check on the dogs.
But maybe Haytham had just gone outside and would be back in a moment.
If only Haytham would return soon...
It was getting too cold, and he was starting to wonder where Haytham was. The Englishman’s things were just the same as on the previous evening, so it seemed unlikely that he had wandered far or started to ready the sleds without him. Had the older man gotten into trouble? Concern was welling up inside of the young man, and he reckoned he better went out to look for Haytham.
See what I mean? All of these random sentences could form their own paragraph and tell the same shit four times over.
He grabbed Haytham’s small pouch and as he returned the bottle of oil, a subtle shimmer caught his eye. Before he had given it much thought, he had taken out the object that had almost seemed to glow. Ratonhnhaké:ton put the pouch on the table and stepped closer to the window to be able to examine the flat, round disk better. It seemed to be a charm of some sorts, and there was a string wound around it as if to wear it around one’s neck, but… Ratonhnhaké:ton had an odd feeling just holding it; as if there was some sort of… connection between himself and the object. As he concentrated on the fine lines inscribed on it, his surroundings seemed to briefly flicker – almost as if turning into a different room.
Chapter 10 and we are finally introduced to the Piece of Eden. Took the author long enough to get here. Shouldn't this be your first priority?
The young hunter went outside and retrieved some water from the nearby well
You know you...can just boil snow, right?
“I was drunk. I didn’t realize it was… you. I thought I was with Samuel still.”, Haytham mumbled; staring at his hands in his lap. “I never wanted… never wanted you. Not you.”
Nah, man. You were coherent enough to know what you were doing. There is no way you could've confused Samuel, who is white, for Connor, who is Native, while drunk. Your drunk goggles must be industrial grade.
Haytham’s gaze wandered upwards and as their eyes met, Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart broke at last.
“I don’t want you.”, Haytham said, and his voice sounded firmer. His gaze was steady, though sad. His expression stony and determined. “I don’t want you like that, Connor. I never did. I’m sorry.”
I'd feel bad but the pity in my bones dried up with all those heart attack sex noises. Plus, this was a long time coming.
Each sentence seemed like a physical object hurled at Ratonhnhaké:ton; causing a pain to well up in his chest so strong that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. He had let the other inside of him – physically, yes, but… more importantly, he had put his trust and affection in someone else’s hands for the first time, and just hours later, Haytham threw it away carelessly; as if it meant nothing. But it had meant everything.
Whose fault is that? You barely knew the guy but go so easily worked up over him, and you decided to have sex with him despite not knowing what he really wanted of you. This whole thing could have been avoided with the wonderful art of...conversation!
An hour later, Ratonhnhaké:ton and Allirkar left the outpost. Snow was falling lightly, but the weather was mild enough to allow them to travel across the icy landscape and further inland. Ratonhnhaké:ton led his sled behind the older hunter; tears stinging in his eyes still. He had never expected to be able to feel this pain just because of someone else’s words - because of someone's rejection.Again, this could have been avoided if you just talked. I cannot sympathize with people who refuse to be rational. You are grown men, not teenage girls. Stop thinking with your dicks!
If you want a real mindfuck in this story, there are snippets of the future from the PoE disk Connor has. When he is injured, he hears voices of people trying to call an ambulance for him. Then, he wakes up in the middle of a modern hospital. That's it. That's the twist. You got a whole chapter of sex and this is what it leads to.
Think this makes any sense at all? Still think it's trying to tell you something? Well I've got news for you: the mindfuck is just about to begin.
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