Goodbye, Blue Sky

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | Grade It Now!
Fivi Wayo Nggo, Sho Me Yete?

Rafe: "Can I fix that for you and get you the fuck out of here as quickly as possible?"
Nicky: "No I have Sensoth AAA, I just need a place to stay during the storm."
Rafe: "Great."

All we know at this point is that Rafe's instincts -- as usual, really, adjusted for his postwar racism -- are completely correct: Nicky is dangerous, whatever else she is. He hasn't been forthcoming, of course, about much, but he was honest about that. We know that as Mayor she was all up in their family business, probably helping them rise to their position in the town: A process that, remember, included some corruption about land titles and coincided strongly with the Irathient diaspora we're still cleaning up.

There's something about the mom we'll hear hinted at later, but it's worth thinking about the fact that of his three children, only one is still completely his, and in both other cases it has to do with the breakdown of the human hegemony he's most comfortable with. So as he comes around -- on Christie, on working with Amanda toward the new Defiance -- it's worth wondering how much of the blame he assigns Nicky is real, and how much is just his guilt for not growing fast enough to hold onto them all.

Nicky: "Quentin! Good morning, love."
Quentin: (Shivers; she presses the point.)
Nicky, leaning down: "I could never get a handle on those darn rollers. My man Birch usually drives me. Unfortunately, Birch is in Iowa visiting family... You know, that man has eight brothers and sisters! If you ask me, that's not a family, that's a litter."

Quentin bounces, immediately, to get away from her; Rafe says it's his allergies, acting up from the storm. She knows better. She doesn't know everything, or she wouldn't be taunting the ghost, but she knows it's Quentin she's after. And how to get him. Eight Birches have now lost a brother to violence, just like Quentin.


When Stahma arrives, Kenya jumps to meet her with Datak's protection money; she smiles sweetly, sliding it across the bar, and Stahma slides it back. She's even more poised than usual; you could almost say terrified. She says the speech just as she rehearsed it.

"I'm here to secure your professional services -- for my son. I want to make sure it's handled properly. As you may have heard, my son is marrying Christie McCawley? I want Alak educated with regard to the ... eccentricities ... of the human female libido. Making love to one of you is enormously complicated."

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