Monthly Archives: February 2012

Maximum Ride Spork: Part Twenty


Things that haven’t been answered:

1) Why it took four years for the Erasers to find the flock.

2) Why the Erasers are so ineffective at capturing the flock.

3) How the indents on the kids’ backs manage to hold their huge wingspans/how the indents don’t weaken their hearts and lungs, thus making it harder to fly.

4) How the kids can magically fly when they’re wearing shirts.

Yeah, not looking too good.

Chapter 74

So everyone starts flying, and Max is completely fine now because her head pain only exists when it’s convenient. While they’re flying Nudge has a one-sided conversation with Max about her parents, and Max then goes on about the cookies she and Ella and Ella’s mom made–only, it’s pretty much just telling us what the original scene said. It’s hard to tell if it’s just bad writing or JPatterson expecting his readers to be idiots.

Also, Max apparently tries not to swear too much because Angel might start repeating it. It’s not like Angel can read minds and hear Max swearing mentally (which is going to happen), except oh wait she can.

Chapter 75

And suddenly the flock are in New York. That’s right: we get absolutely nothing about the flock’s journey all the way across America. I am in awe at what amazing a storyteller James Patterson is. (For definitive clarity, that sentence was sarcasm.)

Oh, and they’re all flying in the air over New York–right near Central Park, in fact. Because nobody’s gonna see them doing that.

They decide to watch a concert going on, which is by some band I have never heard of but the flock like them so whatever. And… Iggy has a lighter? It’s mentioned as if it’s just a thing he has, which is weird since there hasn’t yet been a mention of him having a lighter. They all stay at the fringes of the crowd because of claustrophobia and all that stuff.

So now it’s past the concert and the flock are all in trees to go to sleep (because people totally can’t fall out of trees while they’re sleeping) and we learn that Iggy practices echolocation.

Now, interestingly enough, this is a real technique some blind people use, and was actually featured decently prominently in the Underland Chronicles book series (though, to my knowledge, in an exaggerated fashion). And you know what? Learning it takes time, because humans aren’t specifically designed to do it.

So anyone want to tell me when Iggy learned echolocation?

Chapter 76

Now it’s the next morning, and nobody’s sore because trees totally aren’t hard or anything and sleeping on your stomachs (on account of the wings) totally isn’t difficult or uncomfortable to do in trees.

Max, Angel, and Iggy go off to buy honey-roasted peanuts (with money that they just… have) and then oh no! A clown gets eye contact with a sleek looking guy and we all know sleek guys are evil, so something terrible is going on!

And again we get told that the flock can run faster than grown men (one, WE KNOW THIS, two, WHY) and there’s this dramatic chase that loses its dramaticness when you take into account that the flock run by people who they could ask for help, and then there are like eight people chasing the flock and bleh.

Chapter 77

Iggy swerves the flock into a crowd that’s totally not claustrophobic for the flock because that only exists when necessary, and with that the one-page chase scene is over.

Maybe if JPatterson actually followed through with these “action” scenes they’d be interesting, but every single one gets diffused after a couple of pages and it’s BORING.

But now they’re in a zoo so yay!

Chapter 78

I find this incredibly funny because Max is telling us how WOW they’ve never seen any of this stuff in real life! And the whole point of this brief monologue seems to be to make sure we know the  flock aren’t normal kids, except everything in the way they’re written is how someone would write normal kids.

Also, Max describes the flock’s wings as “retractable.” I dunno, I really don’t think wings work that way.

And this zoo is also “flashback city” for Max, but we don’t get to see these flashbacks or get any mention of them out of a brief bit of dialogue. So.

Chapter 79

Blah blah blah, apparently the Erasers (because of course they were Erasers) who were chasing the flock are new models, which are called “this year’s model” because a bunch of bird kids are totally on top of a secret organization’s experiments.

Then we get treated to a bit that reads like thinly-disguised advertisements for New York city (OMG so much stuff in so close proximity and it’s just so amazing!), and Max gets cookies which is a scene summed up in about three short sentences. Which, while weird writing, is at least not boring.

Chapter 80

Blah blah blah they go to a library. The New York Public Library of Humanities and Social Sciences, in fact, because of course.

Chapter 81

The flock take an elevator and it’s really frightening and everything.

So elevators and concert crowd are frightening, but a crowd going into a zoo isn’t.

I just.

Anyway, Max and Fang search for a bit on the library computers but find nothing so they leave.

Chapter 82

The flock decide to take the subway back to Central Park, but apparently this station is empty and they’re free to jump onto the tracks when they hear voices and see light.

Chapter 83

They continue down the tracks and have to lean up against the walls when a train passes. And all this time I’m wondering why they’re heading down these tracks. I assume it’s because the plot demands it.

And then they find a hidden group of homeless people living in a large room… place… thingy that doesn’t get nearly enough description. Does anyone know if these kinds of places actually exist?

Anyway, the flock decide to sleep there because of some reason.

Chapter 84

I’ve summed up ten chapters in less than nine hundred words–and that’s with commentary. Just sayin’.

Then Max gets a “brain explosion” while she’s sleeping, and we get treated to another use of “jackknife.” I’m unsure such a specific word should be used twice in about 20,000 words.

Blah blah blah, Max is in pain and Fang is trying to comfort her or something and then Max hears a voice saying some nonsense.

Chapter 85

So the voice belongs to a kid who’s angry at Max for messing with his computer, and then she looks at it and it’s flashing the same images she got during her attacks (these images that weren’t important enough to be described, and yet are distinct enough to be recognized?). Shock horror or something.

And thus ends this part. Making it a 60 page (less with all the blank space from chapter breaks) part of a book. Brilliant work, JPatterson.


In the Dark: Chapter Four


“Well,” the girl says, “this is peculiar.”

I give a sharp nod. “What now?”

“There’s obviously something there,” says one of the boys; I look at him and see long blond hair escaping from his hood. “We can all feel it, right?”

“Maybe there’s some sort of mechanism,” the other boy says. “Let me…”

I see as well as feel him extend shadows towards the forest, and the smattering of flora begins to ripple and give. I extend my own shadows and find that the trees and bushes compact at my shadows’ touch, as if they’ve expanded from a smaller shape.

“Come on,” the girl says before forming a tunnel out of the illusory forest and stepping into it. “Nice one, blond!” The blond boy bristles and hurries after her; me and the other boy are close behind.

When I step into the forest I find myself enveloped in the presence that drew me here–my senses feel heightened, and it’s much easier to read the shadows around me. The forest itself, I realize, feels like shadow; I reach out a hand towards a nearby leaf and pluck it. It looks enough like a leaf, and feels like a leaf to my fingers, but to my mind it is nothing but concentrated darkness.

“It’s shadows,” I say to the boy next to me; the blond one has now moved forward to walk next to the girl, where they’re whispering an unintelligible conversation.

“I know,” the boy replies.

I explore the shadow forest using the dark, finding myself not even needing to send out shadows; my power is so heightened, the information comes nearly instantly. And yet, despite straining my powers to go as far as I can, I cannot find a possible destination for us–the forest is all there is.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” I say to the girl. “There isn’t anything where we’re going.”

She lets out a loud sigh. “Check the ground.”

My brow wrinkles, but I do as she says and find what feels like a trapdoor some ways ahead of us. I keep quiet as my face reddens.

Soon we all come to a stop, gathered around the trapdoor; it’s made of old, rotted-looking wood, with a handle of black metal. Despite its weathered appearance, it’s heavy as I pull on the handle, but as soon as I lift it up a short ways, my companions wedge shadows underneath it and fling it open. Hidden under the trapdoor is a steep, dark stone staircase.

I smile as we begin to descend. Other people might be unwilling to walk this staircase, with its pitch-black darkness, damp dirt walls, hard stone steps, and chilly atmosphere, but I am a Disciple. I can navigate the gloom with ease, and I don’t care about moisture or cold or dirt.

We’re soon at the bottom, where there’s a short corridor ended by a wooden door that, unlike the trapdoor above, looks new and clean. The girl opens it and dim light filters into the corridor; while my eyes adjust to the light, I use the remaining darkness to view the area in front of us. It’s another corridor, technically a continuation of the one we stand on, but I can feel the shape of lights affixed to the walls, which are smoother than the dirt where I am. This space goes on for a short space before one more door blocks my shadows.

My eyes are now adjusted, and they find exactly what the shadows told me–the walls look to be made out of stone, and the door is identical to the one before it save for the fact that there’s no way to open it. The others are already moving, and I hurry to follow them while simultaneously wondering where the lights get their electricity from and why the door has no knob.

“Hmm,” the girl says, having reached the door first. When I catch up to her, I realize that there’s a small, circular hole in the door–as far as I can tell, there’s a lock inside, surprisingly similar to the ones I’ve been opening on my trip.

“What is it?” asks the blond boy.

“A lock,” I and the other boy say at the same time. I briefly glance at him, then say, “let me.” I step forward, up to the lock, and the blond boy and the girl move out of the way for me. Gathering up a group of shadows, denser than any other I’ve made, I begin to pick the lock.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” says the girl when I succeed and the door pops open. I say nothing and step past the doorway.

The room beyond is square, and two doors line each wall to my right and left; at the back of the room is a wooden desk, and behind it sits a man dressed in black.

“And you are…?” he says.

Adventures in Netflix! Episode 10: Tales from Earthsea


Welcome to episode 10 of Adventures in Netflix! Today I’ll be reviewing the 2006 Studio Ghibli movie Tales from Earthsea, based on the book of the same name by Ursula K. Le Guin.

US cover art.

Before watching this movie for the first time just a few hours ago, I’d heard very little about it, despite being a big  fan of Studio Ghibli. What little I had heard though wasn’t entirely positive, leaving me to expect a sub par film. An opinion not helped by the fact that the movie wasn’t directed by Hayao Miyazaki, but rather by his eldest son, Goro Miyazaki. My expectations, however, proved wrong. While Earthsea might not quite be the masterpiece that many of Studio Ghibli’s other films are, it is by no means the disappointing misstep I was expecting.

One of the first things I noticed about Earthsea, and one of my favorite things about the movie in general, is the setting. Whereas most fantasy takes place in some version of Dark Ages western Europe, Earthsea takes place in a world that more closely resembles classical Greece or Rome. Don’t get me wrong, I love the standard fantasy settings of faux England as well, but it was nice to see something a little different for once.

As beautiful as any city in the Mediterranean, and far more colorful.

The story of Tales from Earthsea follows the journey of Arren( voiced by Matt levin), a young man with a dark past and a magic sword who, while traveling through the desert, is saved from a pack of wolves by the wizard Sparrowhawk (Timothy Dalton). Sparrowhawk Offers to let Arren travel with him, and Arren agrees. The two make their way to the city of Hort Town, where they attract the attention of the evil sorcerer, Cob (Willem Dafoe).

Arrnen (left) and Sparrowhawk (right).

After a run in with a gang of slavers, Arren and Sparrowhawk continue on their way, eventually coming to the farm of Sparrowhawks old friend Tenar (Mariska Hargitay) and her young charge Therru (Blaire Restaneo).

Tenar greats Sparrowhawk and Arren.

I won’t spoil the rest of the plot, but suffice to say that the conflict between Cob and the heroes intensifies, until finally culminating in a lengthy and thrilling final battle.

Having never read the book that Earthsea is based on, I can’t speak to how good of an adaptation the movie is, but taken on its own Earthsea is a compelling, well crafted work of fantasy that should please any fans of the genre. While the individual elements of the story are, each on their own, fairly standard, they’re put together in a way that feels somehow fresh and interesting. Part of it is the setting, as I’ve mentioned before, but I feel that there’s more to it than that, though I can’t quite put my finger on what.

Therru, brave, fierce, and compassionate.

While the characters in Earthsea might be fairy archetypal, they were all so well written and voiced that I never minded. Especially excellent is Willem Dafoe’s performance as the villein Cob. Every line is delivered with a chilling gentleness, every word soaked in evil and tinged with the edge of insanity. The other voice actors of the English dub are good as well, but non stand out so much, nor are as memorable as Dafoe.

No, that's not an, emo goth woman, but the dark wizard Cob! And he holds within his hand the power to end your puny life!

Before I talk about the animation, I have to make a quick mention of the visual quality available on Netflix streaming. Earthsea is streaming courtesy of Starz, and is, unfortunately, one of the movies suffering from the poor image quality that has given the Starz content on Netflix something of a bad reputation. The resolution was so poor as to be distracting at times, and it made it all but impossible to appreciate the beautiful animation of studio Ghibli. Under other circumstances I might not mention this, but the title of this feature is Adventures in Netflix.

That said, the animation of Earthsea is quite pretty, as I can attest to having looked through a number of high res screenshots. Due to the nature of the landscapes and environments depicted, Earthsea might not be quite as stunning as Ghibli’s more recent The Secret World of Arrietty, but the level of detail and artistry is every bit as high.


While Earthsea is by no means the best studio Ghibli film ever made, it is still in impressive work of film, and one that any fan of the studio, of fantasy, of even just of animation should enjoy.


The Secret World of Arrietty


I saw this movie in theaters yesterday, and decided to write a review for it today. Only when I tried to put my thoughts on the movie into words, I failed spectacularly. So here’s a short and simple “review” of Studio Ghibli’s The Secret World of Arrietty.

The voice acting is great, the art and animation are beautiful, the sound design is amazing, the music is breathtaking (with the exception of a pop song Disney added in to the end, which is perfectly fine as a song but clashes completely with the movie), and the story, while a bit flawed in its execution, is really charming and funny.

And because of that gorgeous art/animation, excellent sound design, and astounding music, it’s actually a movie worth seeing in theaters. For the first ten, maybe twenty minutes, I was completely enraptured by the movie, and that’s never happened to me before.

So go see The Secret World of Arrietty! It’s great.

Nostalgia in Review Part 1: Sid Meier’s Alpha Centauri


I got the idea for this feature a few weeks ago while flipping through the big CD book where all my old games are. I was smiling at my childhood favorites, remembering how much fun I used to have playing them and wondering if and when I’d ever get around to playing them again, and then it came to me: I could play them and then write about them for the blog!

And that’s when I started thinking about the nostalgia factor, and how it relates to revisiting your childhood, even one as recent as mine. Before going any further I should mention my age, and how it might be on the young side to be writing about nostalgia. As the games I’ll be talking about in this feature will eventually come to indicate, I am, at the time of writing this, only seventeen. However, I feel that that I’m well enough out of my childhood to make revisiting it worth while, especially when it comes to video games (which, as anyone who’s grown up playing them can attest, begin to show their age far more quickly than any other media). For example, where an 8-9 year old movie can easily be just as watchable today as when it first came out, a video game that old would be noticeably and significantly out of date in everything from its graphics (visuals) to its gameplay (controlling the game and moving around the game world).

I won’t go into detail about why video games age so much more rapidly; its been explained elsewhere already and I’ve already rambled long enough, but suffice to say that they do.

The Rules

Before I get started talking about the first game I’ll be doing, I’ll explain the rules I’ve set for myself. There aren’t many, and for the most part there not particularly strict, but here they are.

1: The game must be from my “Childhood”.

For the purpose of this feature I’ll be defining childhood as twelve and younger, I.E. games from 2007 or earlier, earlier releases being preferable for the purposes of seeing how well they hold up over time.

2: I can’t have played the game in question in the past few years.

This means exactly what it says, I don’t want to review anything for this feature that I’ve already revisited in the past few years.

3:  I must go into the game cold.

Meaning simply that I can’t do any research on the game beforehand, I.E. reading manuals, watching Youtube videos, looking at wikis, etc.

4: I must play at least 5 hours of the game.

Again, exactly what it sounds like. I won’t necessarily have the time to finish every game I play for this feature, but I want to be sure I play enough, and I thought 5 hours seemed like a good minimum time.

Well, I think that’s everything. Now on to the feature itself.

Nostalgia in Review

(Note: While I had intended to take screenshots for this feature myself, I encountered technical issues and was unable to do so. Therefor, all screenshots used herein were found via a Google image search.)

The Game: Sid Meier’s Alpha Centauri: released Jan. 31, 1999: platforms PC and MAC: genre, turned based strategy game: ESRB rating, E for EVERYONE.

Alpha Centauri’s box art

The Nostalgia: (Note: in future installments this section will be written BEFORE I play the game; unfortunately by the time I came up with the final format I had already played several hours of the game.)

By the time I first played Alpha Centauri I was already familiar with the Civalization franchise, having  sunk dozens of hours into Civ 3 already. While Civ 3 (Released Oct. 30 2001) may have been somewhat flashier graphically, I’ve always loved science fiction, and so I remember being quite taken by Alpha Centauri’s somewhat dark sci fi setting.

One of the things I remembered most about Alpha Centauri, and the thing that set it apart from the Civ franchise in my mind, was the eerie sense of place the game had. The creepy, alien, menacing qualities of both the graphics and the landscapes they depicted.

The main menu of Alpha Centauri

The Reality: Simply put, Alpha Centauri is a fantastic game, one that holds up surprisingly well in many ways, while also clearly being a product of its time. The most noticeable sign of aging, and the hardest to overlook, is its unwieldy user interface. The majority of Alpha Centauri’s extensive menu systems are, by today’s standards, exceedingly clunky, unintuitive, and needlessly complex. Even after I readjusted to the old style of the UI, it still took me at least twice as long to perform most tasks as it would in Civ 5, the most recent installment in the series.

Functionality aside, I actually think the menus look fantastic. With the exception of the simple menu that pops up when you right click on the screen to issue orders to units (It looks like the menu that pops up when you right click on your desktop in Windows), the menus all have a simple, gritty, stylistic 80s-90s sci fi aesthetic that I’ve always loved.

Actually, the whole game’s style holds up remarkable well. While the graphics might not be fantastic (The resolution is low and the texture quality is poor) the style they convey is timeless and evocative. There’s a mildly unsettling bleakness to everything that, combined with the nature of a lot of the military tech, always make me imagine several of the various factions are on the verge of losing their humanity and falling down a rabbit hole of bloody warfare and unethical technology.

In fact, Alpha Centauri actually has something of a story to it. Besides the intro movie which sets things up, there are periodic “interludes” of somewhat cryptic prose that tells a vague but intriguing story. A story that I have unfortunately never seen the end of, I being the type of person who tends to get two thirds of the way through a game of Civ and then get bored and start a new game as a different faction.

 The factions of Alpha Centauri, seven all together, are one of its strong suites, and another thing that sets this game apart from other installments in the franchise. While the number of factions is much smaller In Alpha Centauri than in other Civ games, the relationships between said factions are much more dynamic and lifelike. Where as the factions in any given Civ game tend to feel like they react more or less randomly towards each other, the factions of Alpha Centauri feel like they have much more personality, and while the specifics play out differently in every game, certain factions always react each other in the same general manner every time. For instance, Miriam of the Lord’s Believers (in some ways the Gandhi of Alpha Centauri, Civ players, you know what I’m talking about) almost always sets out on a bloody religious war against, well, anyone she happens to be close to geographically.

When the UN goes wrong…

Another, perhaps better example would be the relationship between Lady Deirdre Skye of Gaia’s Stepdaughters and Col. Corazon Santiago of the Spartan Federation. Skye is a nature loving hippie dedicated to protecting the native life of the planet, and Santiago is a militant gun nut who’ll attack anyone she feels threatens her way of life. As you might imagine, these two almost never get along.

As for the gameplay of Alpha Centauri, anyone familiar with the Civ franchise will find it quite familiar. Players begin the game with a single base and a solitary combat unit and a map of the world that extends only a few squares in any direction from their base.

In the beginning…

From there, players are tasked with expanding their empire by exploring the world, building new bases, discovering new technology, growing their army, and improving the lands they claim with farms, mines, solar collectors, roads, and more.

What the game looks like

There are four ways to win a game of Alpha Centauri, they are: conquest, in which the player eradicates and or conquers all other factions;  diplomacy, whereby the player convinces the majority of the other factions to elect him/her to the position of Supreme Leader; economics, in which the player through a mixture of technology and money effectively buys off all other factions; and transcendence, whereby the player progresses far enough down the tech tree to develop the “Ascent to Transcendence” secret project and cause humanity to leap forward in its evolution.

Another picture of gameplay

All in all I think that, providing you can get past the somewhat clunky interface, Alpha Centauri remains one of the best turn based strategy games ever made. It’s certainly still just as fun, and addictive, as any of the Civ games to come after it.


More Nostalgia in Review:

The Hobbit

Maximum Ride Spork: Part Nineteen


Chaoter 64

Max gives us a brief monologue and tells us she plans to fight (gee, really?), and then Ari decides to taunt her:

“Feeling like a little exercise? Wanna race? Wanna play food fight? You’re the food!” (pg 205)

If you run, you might be fast food!

Then Max bites down on Ari’s fingers and thinks “pit bull thoughts.” Beats me why she chooses now to make up phrases when so far she’s been content to just spout pop culture references.

Max eventually lets go and Ari kicks her cage, sending her towards Angel; she unlocks her cage and tells her to “go”.

And then Iggy and Gazzy come back, leading a bunch of hawks. No, I don’t know either.

Chapter 65

So. In the chapter before last, it was made clear that the kids were going to be hunted by the Erasers, or at least killed by them. This would kind of require the kids to not be in their cages, which means they could theoretically fly away, unless the yard area has a net or something… which, as a bunch of hawks begin attacking the Erasers, does not exist.

This means the kids were just going to be let out into a wide open space where they’d have no trouble flying away. Because a bunch of scientists would totally do that.

Max then throws Angel up into the air and goes for Fang’s crate, throwing off the scientists with ease. Why a 14-year-old bird kid with hollow bones would be stronger than grown men and women, I don’t know.

Anyway, Max gets Nudge free too, then beats up a random scientist for no reason before the flock begin to fly off. Jeb appears and makes a final plead, saying that all this was just “a test”, but Max brushes him off because she does not like him for some bizarre reason.

Chapter 66

Now Max is having her amazing reunion with Angel and all that, Iggy remarks that them all being together is how it should be forever (eh?), and Max gives a short speech about how they all have to be together and I do not know why this is coming up like it’s important or was forgotten.

And apparently the flock are all kind of embarrassed to have feelings. Because growing up in a cage totally does that to you.

Blah blah blah, they can’t go back to the house since Jeb knows it, so Max decides they’ll go east.

Chapter 67

We’re in part 4, now, entitled “New Yawk, New Yawk.” Just gonna let that stand on its own.

Max gives us some bizarre freeform poetry or something, Nudge talks, and then Max feels some sort of pain and drops through the sky. The chapter ends with this:

Something was incredibly wrong.

Already. (pg 216)

Does anyone have any idea what this means?

…No one?

Chapter 68

Max is falling and then Fang grabs her and carries her for a bit, though I’d think that since humans are already ill-made for flying that even if they could be made to fly they’d be unable to carry twice their normal weight. But what do I know?

Max tells Fang to find a place to land.

Chapter 69

You know, all this chapter starting/stopping just makes the book feel choppy.

Anyway, Iggy’s making a fire because apparently Iggy likes fire. You know, 200 pages in really isn’t a good time to be telling us character traits.

And the flock have a bunch of food. Where this came from is not said.

Oh, and apparently all the School’s experiments have shorter life spans; Max says it has to do with the spliced genes unraveling, though I’m not sure how she knows that. She fears that she’s starting to die because of the pain attack, blah blah blah. Then Angel comes over and says something bizarre:

“I’ve got a secret. From when I was at the School. It’s about us. Where we came from?” (pg 221)

Say that aloud. Does it make any sense whatsoever, sound any bit natural? I’m guessing no.

Chapter 70

Apparently not having Angel made Max feel incomplete, and now with Angel back Max feels whole. This is told to us in the middle of a conversation.

And because we have to have a plot now that Angel’s back, it turns out that there are files on the flock in “the Institute” in New York. I just find it very convenient it’s being brought up right now, but whatever.

Oh, and the flock were actually born to human mothers. I’m not a scientist, no expert in biology or anything, but I’m nevertheless dubious that a bird/human hybrid would be able to properly live inside a womb and be birthed and all. I’d think the wings alone would really complicate things.

Chapter 71

Still not a fan of all the chapter breaks.

Blah blah blah, Max has magical looks that say things, Angel continues to explain. Apparently the bird genes were put into them while their mothers were pregnant, using “Amniocentesis.” Which, after using the handy Wikipedia link that popped up, would mean that somehow the bird kids got their bird genes from a test that extracts tissue. Right.

Angel then gives each of the flock their little story about their parents, but she knows nothing about Max because of course she doesn’t.

This, by the way, was all learned via Angel’s telepathy. Because the scientists were totally thinking about the other bird kids’ mothers and the Institute and files.

Chapter 72

Max says everyone should go to bed early, and after Nudge says something “short” blatantly lies by telling us it’s the shortest sentence she ever heard Nudge speak. I can take shortest stream of sentences or instance of speaking whatever, but looking earlier in the book will find multiple shorter sentences so I say no.

And apparently it’s habit for them to do a complicated hand-fit-bump-thingy. Not sure habits work that way, but whatever.

The rest of the chapter is a short conversation between Fang and Max that doesn’t seem to serve much purpose at all.

Chapter 73

Everyone has breakfast, then as Max takes off to fly she gets the same pain as before, which comes with a bunch of flashing images that sound like they come right out of an action movie or something. She recovers, eventually, and then they take off again. It’s all rather boring, and I still don’t understand why these chapters are so short.

Also, I’d like to note that we’re now a few chapters away from Iggy and Gazzy’s bird attack and we still have no idea how it happened. Last I checked, birds don’t randomly follow people with wings and attack on command. But why would I expect anything in this book to make sense?