drdallagher

[drdallagher]

In honor of the OFF remake coming out, I figured now was the time to revisit an idea I had ages ago but never bothered following through on. Here I present: Vader Eloha as the pitcher, a classic swap AU. Still figuring out who fits where, other than the batter obviously being the King.

She even has her add-ons! A halfway point between the batter's simplicity and the Queen's extravagance.

[drdallagher]

ok i really wanna make a post about this since some people dont fully get it (no hate to them i just gotta establish this)

this is not Gerson Boom, this is Old Man, a darkner made in the image/memories of Gerson Boom, and taken form from his hammer

additionally

this is not Gerson Boom, this is the Sound of Justice (confirmed in the files), a darkner made in the image/memories of Old Man, and taken form from his hammer

they are formed off of the same thing

before you say "sound of justice is based on the suits of armor" those suits are also based on the hammer

Gerson does not technically revive via the dark world

a new person is made with him as a basis, and only people who knew him can make him accurate to the real thing (as seen in the difference between the knight and susies version of the darkner, susie didnt know Gerson, she knew Old Man, and recently learned he's the remains of dead person, thus when she made him, her version is basically a walking corpse

now calling him gerson is technically incorrect but also who really cares we all know who you mean

but again he isnt gerson, neither of them are

[drdallagher]

Book binding pt 2

Susie stared at the pile of pages on her bed, a random assortment of stationery she had taken from the library making a semicircle around it.

"...right, the hell am I supposed to do now?"

She had tried to get help when they had brought the Darkners back to Castle Town, like when she had to repair Tenna, but nobody even knew what this thing was. Even the Organikks just knew that it was vaguely mentioned in the Prophecy, but that wasn't exactly helpful. She had asked Kris to help, but Ms Toriel dragged them away at the last second. So here she was, alone in her room, trying to figure out how to repair a book.

There were some books in the library that were old and had been repaired using tape along the spine. Maybe she could just do that? But... those things were always on the verge of falling apart again; she really didn't want to know how that translated in the Dark World. Besides, this wasn't a modern book.

Susie held up what remained of the book, looking at the cracks going through the leather case. How the hell do you even fix leather? Whatever, that didn't matter right now. It looked like there was some sort of glue holding the pages into the spine, that was simple enough to do. She quickly sorted the loose pages back in order, being immensely grateful that there were actual page numbers, and flipped through the book to the place where the first missing page was supposed to go.

She was never good at fine motion crap; her hands were shaking slightly as she tried to apply office glue to the page. It probably wasn't the right kind, but glue was glue, right? You put it on something and it sticks in place, easy!

It was surprisingly difficult to get the page to stay in place, with several attempts ending with either the page falling out entirely or sticking to the other pages, leaving Susie to frantically unstick them and scrape the glue residue off the other page before trying again. But, with a firm press, the first page settled into place, actually sticking to the spine instead of falling out again. She quickly blew on the page, trying to get the glue to dry faster so she could move on.

Susie sighed and looked at her hands, sticking the tips of her fingers together with the small bits of glue still stuck to them before pulling them apart again. That wasn't so bad, it only took a couple minutes! She then looked at the pile of pages left. There had to be at least a hundred still sitting loose in the pile. Lord of the Hammer was a rather thick book after all.

"...fuck."

Susie groaned as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her wrists, trying not to get any more glue stuck in her hair. It had been hours since she started, and she had actually gotten pretty good at the whole process. It just took ages to get everything in place. She wanted to do this right, and that meant taking her time. But she was in the home stretch now, just a couple more pages, then she could fix up the cover, and she'd be done.

As she flipped through the book looking for the place where the pages were supposed to go, the letters swam in front of her eyes. She had trouble reading when she was fully awake, but now they barely looked like words at all.

"Come on, just a little more."

Susie muttered under her breath, wondering why she was even doing this. If it did work, what exactly would happen? The last time she saw it moving, it was trying to kill her. Why wouldn't it just try again? Did she even want to see it again? What if it really was just a mindless statue, like Ralsei said? She was the one to bring it to life, maybe that's why she was trying this? Some feeling of responsibility for forcing it awake?

Her mind wandered between thoughts as she finally flipped to the empty space. It was actually at the very back of the book, the second and third to last pages. Susie froze as she glanced at the final page. Staring up at her from the last page of the book was a picture of the Old Man. He was younger in the picture than she remembered him being, but it was absolutely him. 'About the author' was written in big letters below the picture, though the smaller text below that was too blurry for her to read properly.

Right, of course that would be there; that kind of stuff was in every book. That didn't make the sinking feeling in her chest feel any better. It was like the picture was taunting her, 'you failed to bring him back, so here's this picture instead', just like what the Dark Fountain did. Though... she guessed it was just like what the fountain did, this book was the statue, wasn't it?

Her eyes flicked over the description, trying to focus enough that the words stopped swimming. From what she could cather, it was the same generic stuff all 'about the author' sections are filled with. He lived in Hometown, he loved to write, etc. All basic information.

So this is why the book was chosen. Something that vaguely described the Old Man, that was all she could muster up. Whatever, that was exactly why she was trying to fix this damn book in the first place. Now she just had to get these damn pages in place.

Once she was done with repairing the pages and had taped up all the tears she could find, Susie took a deep breath and lay back on her bed. Her room smelled like an arts and crafts shop now, and she was pretty sure she'd have to cut out some chunks of hair, but it was done. The book looked... well, it didn't look good as new, but it was no longer falling apart. In fact, she'd done a pretty good job all things considered. Now she just had to bring it back to school and see if it worked.

...

All the thoughts of what could happen floated through her brain as her eyes grew heavier and heavier, until she finally fell asleep.

What if it wasn't just a statue?

She didn't go into the closet with Kris the next day. As much as she wanted to, something in the back of her skull prevented it. Maybe it was fear that she hadn't done a good enough job repairing it, and when brought into the Dark World, it just died all over again. Maybe it was fear of what it would do if it saw her again, attacking, or worse, running away. Maybe it was something else entirely. But whatever it was, she just couldn't face it at the moment. So, after anxiously waiting for Kris to return, she asked what had happened.

Kris said it was fine, it wasn't hostile, so Ralsei brought it deeper into Castle Town to try to talk with it. She didn't have to worry. While that made her feel a bit better, the worry was replaced by something heavier. She was going to have to see that thing eventually; it wasn't like she could just stop going to Castle Town, but at least she could put it off for a while.

She didn't want to think about that face again.

[drdallagher]

hey man do you need something

[drdallagher]

Book binding pt 1

It always felt sort of weird taking all the things out of places to cram into the school closet.

Logically, both Susie and Kris knew they had to do it to bring all the Darkners they had recruited back to Castle Town. But even if Kris didn't react, and Susie acted indifferent, there was a part of them that knew they were basically stealing.

That, and the fact that it was really hard to figure out what exactly was a Darkner that needed to be brought back.

"You think we have to take that entire thing?"

Susie gestured at the organ sitting stout against the wall, the instrument probably having been in the church since before either of their parents were born.

Kris shook their head, saying that the Organikks were probably instruments.

"Yeah, looks real heavy too."

Susie sighed, looking around the church bathed in dim light, fighting the urge to eat all the wafers. It looks like they had stripped the main room clean of things that felt familiar, they had already gone through the choir room and got Jack packed up, that just left...

"The priest guy's office..."

Susie and Kris walked into the office, quickly sweeping up the most obvious things like the cups and water. But as they got to the desk, Susie faltered.

The glass dome was probably still in the drawer. She put it back after they had sealed the third dark world, not wanting the priest to know someone had been rifling through his stuff. Well, trying to minimize that idea at least. But if they wanted to get everyone.

"...I never got to ask the Old Man if he wanted to come. Ralsei said he wouldn't show up even if we took the hammer, right?"

Kris nodded. Susie's breath hitched for a moment before she took a step forward.

"I just wanna take another look."

She quickly pulled the drawer open, the contents sliding into view. There it was, the small dust dust-covered hammer. It was still extremely messed up that the priest even had this just lying around... if it was really him...

Susie stared at the glass, trying to work out what she even wanted to do with it, before the rest of the things in the drawer caught her eye.

There were a few knick-knacks, a set of pens and pencils, and two books stacked on top of each other.

One looked like some sort of writing journal, with an ornate pen in a leather strap wrapped around it. And underneath was an old, worn book.

She didn't know why exactly, maybe to postpone having to think about the dust, but she picked up the book from the bottom of the drawer. The title 'Lord of the Hammer' was written in flowing golden script proudly on the front. It looked ancient, though its age didn't explain the condition it was in. Pages were falling out, the spine was nearly ripped in half, and there were several tears and scratches along the covers and across some of the pages.

"The hell? Why's this so torn up? This is the Old Man's book, right? Shouldn't the priest take better care of this?"

A few pages actually fell out of the book onto the desk, Susie muttering a curse as she picked them up and tried to figure out where they fit. But as she opened the book to try and slot the pages back in, more paper just fell out without friction holding them in place.

"Shit, this thing is completely busted. What's..."

Her mind flashed back to a couple of nights ago, walking back into Kris' house and seeing Tenna's screen cracked, his antennas broken off, and the plastic of his case warped.

"Wait, what if this is a Darkner?"

Susie looked at Kris, a slight panic in her eyes as she tried to get all the pages into a loose pile.

But, what Darkner got hurt as badly as Tenna in the Sanctuaries? She didn't remember the Knight fighting anyone but them, and they didn't hurt anyone along the way...

But there was one, one fight that ended in violence. How could she forget? It was right before that talk, and the first time she had seen Ralsei be so... cold.

That statue, it was in pieces when they left her dark world. And the object would match. But Ralsei said it was just a mindless thing, right?

Ralsei said a lot of things, he was wrong about a few of them too. Like how he said Darkners weren't real.

Susie nearly jumped out of her skin as the clock struck midnight, the sound of bells filling the office. Almost instinctively, she shut the drawer and shoved the pages and cover into her jacket, moving to the door.

"C'mon Kris, think we got everything."

[drdallagher]

If you're reading this...

go write three sentences on your current writing project.

[drdallagher]

A white pen called hope.

The town around it was filled with noise.

Music coming from the club, random small conversations, laughing from the cafe, soft muttering from the shop.

Footsteps from the cobblestone path, breathing from exercise, and the faint roar of the Dark Fountain coming from the top of the castle.

It was all so loud... it was all so lively.

Like the people in this town didn't have a care in the world. And, well, why would they?

The town was safe, the town was thriving, even. Filled with Darkners big and small, allies recruited from across the Dark Worlds. The Prince provided everyone with whatever they needed, the Heros made sure nobody was left behind.

Not even It.

It watched from off the path, its head slowly turning as its visor scanned the Darkners living their lives. It never expected to think again once it felt the Prince's scarf separate its head from its body, but here it was. Pieced back together, like the lord of screens.

The Prince said the Heroes wanted no Darkner to be left alone when their fountains were sealed, and while it wasn't exactly what the Girl wanted, it was still a person.

What an absurd idea.

With the sound of grinding stone, the Sound of Justice slowly got up from its position, walking back to the path to head deeper into town.

Thump, clang, thump, clang.

The Darkners ahead knew it was coming long before they saw it. Ahead on the path, a diamond and a wire were talking. They stopped when it came closer.

They were staring at it, it just knew it. They were looking at its stone, at its stiffness.

It didn't matter. It walked past them, ignoring how their eyes traced its path, some look coming into their eyes.

It walked farther, to the castle. It looked up at the Fountain just past the walls, reaching high into the sky. Even with all the pure darkness, it couldn't make it Right.

It was for the better.

It walked through the gates, around the bubbling cauldron, to the path below.

The jail was one of the few places where it didn't feel entirely out of place. It was darker down there, it was quieter, it could keep watch over the prisoners. It fit what it was made for.

Just barely.

But before it could reach the path to solitude, a sound came from above.

Talking, a high voice, a deep voice, and the barely audible breathing of someone who does not talk.

The Heroes, they were coming down the stairs.

For whatever reason, a deep, painful feeling filled its chest as it heard those sounds. It stopped in its tracks, still in the lobby of the castle, and slowly turned its head to face the stairs leading up.

The Cage came first, they didn't even seem to notice it. Or, if they did, they didn't think it was important enough to acknowledge.

Next came the Prince, speaking to the one behind him, a bright smile on his face. His scarf was wound tightly around his neck, the frayed edges sticking out and making a scratching sound as he moved his head.

And last was the one it felt pain looking at. At last was the Girl. She was smiling as well, talking to the Prince with her hands behind her head, her voice echoing through the quiet halls.

As they finally came down the stairs, they noticed it, and they stopped talking. A small reprieve, at least.

The Girl was looking at it, that same face she made when she first saw It for It. It was only for the briefest of moments, but it saw the face flash into existence. Pain, guilt, the tightness in her chest mirroring the tightness in its.

The Prince looked at it with pity, as he did when it first woke up here. Pity, and something else. Though right now, the Prince didn't matter. He looked like he was about to make a noise when the Girl interrupted him. The Girl spoke loudly, commanding the room.

"Hey, you guys go ahead, just gimme a sec."

The Cage looked back at her for only a moment before walking on. The Prince looked conflicted, but followed the Cage.

The Girl looked at it, and it looked at the Girl. The only sounds in the room were the soft, ever-present bubbling, and her breath.

She was breathing heavily, it could almost hear her heart. The Girl walked forward, her eyes hidden behind her hair, almost like its.

"You're... you're that thing, right?"

Of course it was, how could it be anything else?

"I..."

The Girl's voice was caught in her throat, oh, how it wished it could move, but for now it seemed rooted in place.

"I wanted to talk with you... since we got your book. Ralsei said you stopped attacking back here."

It looked up at her, then down to the floor, nodding.

The Girl took a moment to gather her thoughts, then clenched her fist.

This was it, the moment where it would no longer be welcome in the darkest fountain. It only made sense, its very existence brought pain to one of the legendary Heroes, why wouldn't it be? Now that she had seen it in the light.

"I'm sorry."

That was the one thing it never expected to hear. It looked at the Girl, her eyes finally have come back from behind her bangs. There was a look in her eyes, it was something like the Darkners outside, but deeper. Why? If anything, it should be the one apologising, if only it could do so properly.

"I knew I messed up, wanting to see the Old Man even though... even though I knew he was dead."

Of course, it always circles back to the Old Man. Though, that sentence didn't line up with what she was showing.

"I messed up, and Ralsei's said you've been on your own for a while. That's cus of the whole thing, right?"

The Prince talked about it? Why would the Prince talk about it of all Darkners?

"I didn't know what it would do, and now you have to deal with it. I know you attacked us, but, I get it. I've attacked people too, when I didn't know what to do."

It took a step back, the sound echoing off the walls, causing the Girl to jump back a bit before settling down again. That look, that... she didn't look comfortable.

"Could you just say something already? Come on, I've talked at you enough."

It... she wanted it to talk. It could, if she wanted it to. Maybe it could finally not dissapoint her, but even then if it did that might just make her feel worse.

Fail her again, or remind her of it already failing?

...

I-

The moment the noise left its throat it clamped its mouth shut once again. The horrible look on her face, it knew that would happen. But after a moment, the look disappeared, and she gripped her arms together, motioning for it to continue.

...I'm not sure what to say... I am the one that is sorry.

Its voice, it's horrible, scratchy, distorted, wrong voice. Another reminder of what it wasn't.

"Right, forgot you sounded like that."

The Girl sighed, shaking her head once again to clear it.

"Doesn't matter, doesn't matter. Listen just, it was a bad time, is all. I need you to believe me when I say, what I wanted doesn't matter anymore. You aren't the Old Man, and that's fine."

She looked like she was convincing herself as much as she was talking to it. Though maybe she looked a little less pained than before.

But if I can't be him, then why should I be?

She looked up, confused, squinting at it.

"Huh? What do you mean, just said it doesn't matter."

But it does. The Prince said we should be ourselves. Who am I?

"You're..."

She looked at a loss for words once again. Of course she did, it didn't have a Who outside of trying to Be the Old Man. Of Not being the Old Man.

The Girl looked frustrated.

"Look. I've had a couple of Darkners now try to tell me they aren't people outside of what they are in the Light World. I don't buy it, you're all someone, so you have to have something outside that book. And we're gonna find it."

We're?

"When I first saw you, yeah I was terrified, and I thought I killed the Old Man twice, but now? Just throwing you out doesn't sit right."

The pained look was going away, and for whatever reason, the tightness in its chest was fading as well.

"I've had time to think, and really, I don't want another guy to have to deal with my mistake on their own."

It prided itself on its hearing, but maybe that was a mistake. Surely she couldn't be saying what it was hearing, right?

"Hey uh, don't think I ever asked, what's your name again?"

Its name? Why would that be important? But, if she wanted it.

When I woke up, I knew myself as the Sound of Justice.

"The Sound of Justice? Long name. You, uh, do you like it?"

Again, why would that be important?

It is what I know as my name.

"Right, helpful, well maybe we could shorten it a bit? Bit of a mouthful. I'll just call you SJ."

SJ. It didn't dislike it, but it didn't feel right either.

If that is what you want, Hero.

The Girl looked extremely weirded out.

"Name's Susie, just use that, ok?"

The Prince called out from past the gate to Susie. She looked over her shoulder and sighed.

"I need to get going, but I'll see you soon, ok? Gotta sort some things out still."

Susie left to rejoin the other Heroes, leaving the Sound of Justice alone in the lobby.

Susie wanted to help it.

[drdallagher]

An echo through the dark

Darkners are not people. That is something every Darkner understands from the moment they start existing, they aren't real. They're shadows of real things, of objects, of tools.

Wicabel isn't really a witch, no matter how much her pranks convince others of that, she's just a bell. Winglade isn't a real blade, it's a quill, no matter how much it wants to it will never really fly, as that is where the sun is. The Organikks that walk around the Sanctuary espousing their knowledge of the world can never see their theorizing to fruition, they were never meant to. That would require seeing the world as it is, and the moment the curtain is lifted they would turn back into simple musical instruments.

Even if the illusion is convincing, the Lightners always open their eyes eventually, and as the light seeps in the Darkners know their time will soon come to an end. Some may find this reality sad, but for most Darkners, they find some comfort in knowing just what they are, and knowing their purpose in life. They live to serve the Lightners, that is the reason they live, the reason the Dark Fountains that form their world exist. A Lightner focuses their wants into the shadows, and the objects they use gain just enough autonomy to be used more efficiently.

At least, for most Darkners. Some are special, some have more life than others, more power than others, these Darkners are special. Maybe they are particularly beloved objects, maybe they are focused on in particular, but in whatever case these Darkners stand out from the rest. One such example was the Old Man.

Ah, the Old Man, the Darkner most others were jealous of. He was not just an object, just an impression. No, he was the memory of a Lightner, the object of a loved one taken form once again. He had the mind of a Lightner, the memories of a Lightner, for all intents and purposes he was a Lightner. And not just that, he was beloved in the Light world, he was a father, an author, a war hero. The heros that came to the Sanctuary loved him, respected him, and when he mentored the girl that admiration only grew.

He was larger than life, larger than any other Darkner, which is why it was so tragic when he left. The first Sanctuary vanished when its Fountain was sealed, and with that Fountain went the intentions behind it. Darkners like the Old Man, they can only be created by very specific desires, very specific minds, shaping the Darkness into the form of a loved one so perfectly that it is impossible to tell the difference. When the Fountain went away, the Old Man ceased to be, and would only ever have been able to return if the one who originally made the Fountain made it again.

But, that isn't what happened. No, what happened was the girl wanting the same, but she could never have the same. When she created the second Sanctuary, her desires warped the Fountain into a shape roughly similar to the one that came before, but it could never be the same. She wanted the Wafers, she got the Organikks. She wanted the blue, she got purple.

She wanted the Old Man… she got It.

A copy of a copy, that was the existence of the Sound of Justice. It was a replacement, a 'good enough' by the Fountain that shaped its world. It wasn't the Old Man, it was never going to be the Old Man. The Old Man was one of a kind. But she wanted the Old Man, so she had to get something close to what he was.

From the moment it came into existence, it knew it was Wrong. It wasn't meant to be alive, it wasn't meant to think, but it was, and it did. It was a Darkner spawned from a memory, a retelling of an epic too long to recount. It was a monster. It was a disappointment. Darkners are supposed to fulfill the wishes of Lightners, and it had failed from before it even knew what it was. The one thing it was made to do, it could never accomplish; it was born to complete an impossible task.

Maybe that was why it hid in the dark, maybe that is why hatred burned in its chest. Why it hated hearing itself laugh, why it lashed out when the girl who gave it life called out to the Old Man who wasn't there. The girl who would never see it as it was, who would hate it the moment she knew what it was.

Maybe that was why when the Prince struck it down, some part of it was glad.

Maybe that was why it was shocked when she put it back together. Why it never expected to be brought back to their Castle Town.

Why it tried to keep to itself, knowing it wasn't supposed to be there, that it wasn't supposed to be.

Why it didn't believe the Prince who told it how the Lightners wished for the Darkners to be their own people. Why it tried to hide when it saw the girl again.

Why it wished more than anything it had eyes to cry with when she said she didn't entirely hate it.

[drdallagher]

I get that hating America feels good, especially with what's happening right now, but it's honestly just tiring. He's literally made fun of people who blame everything on America in previous chapters.

[drdallagher]

The Sound of Justice deserved better

They say this is the place to just shout your thoughts into the void, so here goes.

I don't know if literally anyone else is going to get this, but I'm sort of obsessed with the Sound of Justice, and I want to get why out of my head.

Anyone who knows what Deltarune is, you can skip the next couple paragraphs.

For anyone that doesn't know, in the game Deltarune, there are two types of people. Lightners and Darkners. Lightners live in the light world, the 'true' world. They're physical, tangible, they don't go away when you turn on the lights. Their will is what shapes the Dark Fountains that form the Dark Worlds.

Darkners are illusions, at least compared to Lightners. They're people formed from objects, what one might mistake for a person in the darker than dark. A laptop becomes a robot queen, a tv becomes a tv host and his entorage are the channels. A deck of cards becomes an entire kingdom, with the king of spades at the head. But when the lights turn on, when the Dark Fountains that make their worlds are sealed, they go back to being ordinary objects.

For some Darkners, this is acceptable. They know who they are, even if they don't exactly know what they are; they know they have some purpose to their life beyond their day to day. For some, this is even their *entire* purpose, like the Prince of Dark, Ralsei. For the first three chapters of the game, Ralsei believes Darkners are made to serve Lightners, to not have their own thoughts beyond what the Lightners want of them. Of course, one of the main characters opposes this and tries to convince him otherwise, but that mindset is something not unique to Ralsei. In fact, we see several Darkners that feel lost without the Lightners using them. For the King of Spades, this turned to anger at being abandoned. For the Queen, this turned to obsession, an insatiable drive to create more Dark Fountains so she could give all Lightners a perfect world. For the TV, this turned to clinging to the past, pretending everything was alright, the moment the Lightners started paying attention to him once again.

But the thing is, all of the Darkners in the first three chapters have some purpose. Whether they acknowledge it or not, whether they obsess over it or not, when the lights turn back on they have a use, an object at their core that defines who they are.

All but one Darkner. The Sound of Justice.

To make a long story short, the Sound of Justice in-game is a mindless statue. It's a Darkner created by a Dark Fountain made with the intent of seeing one very specific Darkner once again, a revived Lightner, the main characters found in a previous Dark Fountain they sealed. But, the Lightner couldn't be revived twice, so that will to see him again went towards animating a statue in his shape.

In-game, Ralsei kills the statue. He says it was mindless, that it didn't matter that it died.

But imagine if he was wrong. We know he's been wrong about Darkners' individuality in the past. Imagine if the Sound of Justice wasn't just a mindless beast? It certainly doesn't act like one.

It leads the main characters on a wild goose chase through the dark. It laughs when it finally turns to fight them. A full belly laugh, just like the man it was based on used to do, right before Ralsei puts it down.

Imagine if you were in the situation of the Sound of Justice. All Darkners were born for a purpose, and the Sound of Justice was born... to be someone else. To be a replacement goldfish for the *shadow* of a Lightner. Imagine how that would feel, what you would do in that situation. All you have is a distorted voice, a hammer, and your divine creator stumbling through the dark insisting that you are someone you could never be. You failed what you were born to do before you were even born.

Would you lash out? All you have is a hammer, and you know how the saying goes. Would you hide in the darkness, trying to never be seen?

I cannot stop thinking about SoJ, I can't stop writing about SoJ, even though it's such a minor character.

I don't know if there are any other SoJ fans out there, but if you see this, know that there's at least one other insane person with you.

Perhaps if you want to see more of this type of stuff you can check out the fanfic I wrote about it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/67075087/chapters/173179738

I'm probably going to post the chapters here soon enough, but I just needed to get this out there to begin with.

[drdallagher]

THE EXPERIENCE OF THE VESSELS WITHIN THE SHIFTING MOUND'S MULTITUDES

companion analysis post

What are the "Vessels," and how do they compare to "People," conceptually? What is their experience, both before and after assimilation into the Shifting Mound's Multitudes? What does it feel like?

What are the Vessels, to Shifty?

THE GIFT OF A FRAGILE VESSEL: A PERSPECTIVE

THE ENTITY - Something finds me in the Long Quiet and brings me the gift of a fragile vessel. [...] Nerves and fibres to feel the worlds beyond. Perspectives to make my own.

FRESH PERSPECTIVES, NEW AVENUES OF EXPRESSION

• (Explore) "Are you the same being as you were before? How much have you changed?" THE ENTITY - Is a child the same as an infant? I am an unbroken pattern, but every vessel gifts fresh perspectives and carves new avenues of expression. 'I' am different, but I am the same.

THE LIVES YOU'VE BROUGHT ME: SHORT, VIOLENT, FULL OF PASSION. IMPERMANENT FLICKERS.

THE ENTITY - Rhetorical. I am not rhetorical. I have only known these spaces, and I have known flickers of the lives you've brought me. Short and violent and full of passion. But all of these flickers end where The Long Quiet begins.

"DO NOT MOURN HER"

...she is part of something greater. ...she is exactly where she needs to be. ...she has served her purpose. etc.

To Shifty, the vessels are containers (bodies) for singular perspectives that She might make Her own. These vessels are fragile, and their lives are short. Each flicker of a life, inevitably, ends.

What are People, to Shifty?

A PERSON: A SINGULAR PERSPECTIVE

• (Explore) "I'm a person." THE ENTITY - A person. A set of eyes witnessing from one perspective. [...]

PEOPLE: IMPERMANENT, FRAIL THINGS TOO SMALL FOR US

[IF MOST ROUTES ENDED TRAPPED] • (Explore) "Do you think there are people out there?" THE ENTITY - It doesn't matter if there are. People are [IF SATISFIED: too small for us / IF NOT: frail and impermanent]. You and I are the only things that interest me.

"A WARMTH AND SADNESS IN ME AT THE THOUGHT OF PEOPLE"

[IF MOST ROUTES ENDED IN FREEDOM] • (Explore) "There's trees, and stars. And there are people, I think. At least there are supposed to be people." THE ENTITY - There is a warmth and sadness in me at the thought of people. Fresh tears on a winter's day. They are not like us. They do not last.

To Shifty, a person is a set of eyes able to witness from a singular perspective. People are frail, and their lives are impermanent and do not last.

What differentiates a person from a vessel?: The vessels are people; they meet every criteria. Shifty uses slightly different words, but regardless of Her personal attitude towards them and the dehumanizing connotations of Her language, the vessels, the Princesses, are still people. They are fragile/frail, their lives are impermanent/short, they both have singular perspectives. But there is a warmth and sadness in Shifty at the thought of people; a grief She may feel for the impermanence of their lives. People do not last, and She mourns them. The vessels do not need to be mourned; they do not deserve it. The vessels are people in all ways... except for the fact that Shifty refuses to see them as such. They are extensions of Her. No more. But they weren't always, no matter how She makes it sound.Read between the lines:

Perspectives She Makes Her Own, Into Parts of Herself; An Irreversible Change

PERSPECTIVES TO MAKE HER OWN

• (Explore) "The gift of a fragile vessel?" THE ENTITY - Yes. Nerves and fibres to feel the worlds beyond. Perspectives to make my own.

MAKING HER A PART OF YOURSELF, SOME CHANGES THAT CAN NEVER BE UNDONE

• (Explore) "Are you the Princess?" THE ENTITY - She is part of me, and part of me is her. • (Explore) "But were you always the Princess, or are you just making her a part of yourself?" THE ENTITY - You speak in circles. Does it matter where one things begins and another ends? • (Explore) "Let her out of there!" THE ENTITY - I'm sorry. There are some changes that can never be undone, there are some tears that can never be unshed. This is not a place that can hold a fragment of a concept. The moment she arrived here, she was going to return to me. THE ENTITY - I promise that it doesn't hurt.

BRING MORE PERSPECTIVES [VESSELS] SO I MAY BE WHOLE

THE ENTITY - There is no exit, but this vessel is a creature of perception. She can make you forget, if only you believe her to be able to. THE ENTITY - Bring me more perspectives, so that I may be whole, and perhaps then we will know our freedom.

SOMETHING SHAPED LIKE ME, SOMETHING EMPTY I CAN CRAWL INSIDE OF.

Resistance. Fingers drag claws across the glass surface of your soul. Frustration. 'This vessel is full of you. I need something empty I can crawl inside of. I need something shaped like me.'

These are perspectives that the Shifting Mound makes Her own. Note the active verb in these sentences; note how She refers to it as a "change" that can never be undone. It is not the vessel that is missing parts of itself, without Shifty. It is Shifty that is missing a part of Herself, without the vessel. The vessel is a whole and independent entity; in fact, Shifty though Shifty claims "the moment she arrived here [in the Long Quiet], she was going to return to me," Oblivion proves that vessels can be lost to the Shifting Mound. It's possible to not incorporate them. What becomes of the vessels, lost in the textured folds of the nothingness of the Long Quiet, is uncertain and unknown. But they are certainly independent. And those independent Princesses will remain independent until Shifty claims them. And then... they are changed. Their perspective consumed. Emptied out. Crawled inside of.

PERSPECTIVES I HAVE ALREADY MADE MY OWN; VALUE: USELESS

• (Explore) "When I go back, it's as if an invisible wall closes around me. Why can I not do the same things I've done before?" THE ENTITY - Those paths lead to worlds you've already seen, and to perspectives I have already made my own. They are useless to us now. Inaccessible. The only paths of value are those that are yet untread.

USELESS IF IT DOESN'T BRING NEW GIFTS.

Confusion. 'Why are you here? I am unfinished.' Resistance. Fingers drag claws across the glass surface of your soul. Frustration. 'This vessel is full of you. It is useless to us if it doesn't bring more gifts.'

Shifty does not value the perspectives She has already subsumed. Their purpose is to be taken in as a singular gift and never re-visited or lingered upon. Shifty sees no value in retreading a path, even if it could very well lead into a new outcome. No. It is useless. She makes it inaccessible. She regards the concept, interpretating from the sharply negative connotation of Her dialogue, with some level of frustration, possibly even apathy or disinterest or distain.

"SHE HAS SERVED HER PURPOSE" "SHE IS EXACTLY WHERE SHE NEEDS TO BE" "SHE ASKS THAT I TELL YOU TO REMEMBER HER" "NOT REALIZING THAT WE ARE ONE"

• (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Damsel]?" THE ENTITY - This one is soft and delicate. You molded her to love you, and she'll make for a gentle heart. Do not mourn her. She has served her purpose. • (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Deconstructed Damsel]?" THE ENTITY - This one is a reflecting pool of desire unfulfilled. She will make for a pliant heart. Do not mourn her. She has served her purpose.

Shifty has many things to say about her vessels, the vast majority of them being poetic, even sympathetic to the Princess' life story. But Damsel, the Princess that suffers the least and experiences the last pain in her journey towards freedom, who has the greatest capacity for joy and pleasure and simple comfort... is not given that same love. The Entity describes Damsel like an object, one She is apathetic to and doesn't care even remotely to see through the eyes of. Damsel has a unique perspective. It's a life without pain. With minimal conflict. With a promise of future happiness. Shifty wants, breathes, needs conflict. So much of Her, in the End of Everything, is defined by Her complete belief that conflict, struggle, and pain are what grant life meaning. That Her trauma and Her responses to that trauma define who She is. Damsel, to Shifty, is something that has yet to be textured; something blank, blind optimism making for a bland and boring existence. It serves its purpose. She cares for it little beyond that.

• (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Prisoner]?" THE ENTITY - This one is determined, but also cautious, one that would rather let the world move around her than move it herself. She will make for a patient heart. Do not mourn her --- she is exactly where she needs to be. • (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Razor]?" THE ENTITY - This one is single-minded edge. She is cruelty. But she is also joy. She will make for a piercing heart. Do not mourn her --- she is exactly where she needs to be. • (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Moment of Clarity]?" THE ENTITY - This one is a waiting maw. An inevitable destination where all roads end. She will make for a wise heart. Do not mourn her --- she is exactly where she needs to be.

Commonalities between these three Princesses is a certain unhealthy degree of detachment. Prisoner sits in silence in the cabin's basement for an eternity, seeming not to think of act at all, simply dissociating through the passing of an age as she waits for the barriers around her to crumble, erode, and fall. The Moment of Clarity takes a more active approach against a more humanized jailor, tormenting them ceaselessly until their will is broken by the force of the trauma and stolen away by her---the both of them shattered by the experience, and Quiet rendered no more than an object or tool. The Razor also tortures Quiet ceaselessly, turning them into gorey ribbons again and again until each life bleeds into death bleeds into life and back again as they feel every inch of burning pain that slices its way through their body---the Razor rendered no more than an object or weapon, and Quiet her target of choice. In each of these instances, both Quiet and The Princess are stuck together in the basement with no truly meaningful interactions while the reality around them erodes. A single-minded edge of cruelty and joy, a waiting maw where all things inevitably end, and a will the world will move to. These are aspects of patience and wisdom by the Shifting Mound's perspective. Exactly where they need to be.

THE ENTITY - She asks that I tell you to remember her. THE ENTITY - You won't.

• (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Adversary]?" THE ENTITY - This one yearns to grow and struggle. Even now I feel a will pushing against mine, not realizing that we are one. She will make for a bold heart. THE ENTITY - Do not mourn her. We will provide her with the growth she fought for.

"NO," SAYS APOTHEOSIS

APOTHEOSIS - After everything I cast aside on my path to ascension... What remnant of the old could possibly be left to defy me? You look down. At the Princess' feet writhes a shifting mound, a mass of hands clambering over each other, crawling their way up her body. They start to pull. Apotheosis - NO! The mound becomes a sea, and the Princess struggles to stay afloat, to keep the two of you close to the hole in the world and the light of the something beautiful beyond. But she is drowning. As the sea rises, she pulls you from her shoulder and holds you above the tide. You turn back to look at her. APOTHEOSIS - I think... this is the end. I can feel every part of me freezing over. Hands reach over hands, pulling at her face. Dragging her down into their frigid depths. She is tired, and life fades from her eyes. THE ENTITY - Do not mourn her, for she has finally found her light.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE," SAYS THE EYE OF THE NEEDLE

THE EYE OF THE NEEDLE - What is this place? Where are we? This... doesn't feel right... THE EYE OF THE NEEDLE - This is just another place. I don't care about places! I only care about you! Is this what you wanted? For me to see this? Fine then! I've seen it! Are you finally going to come back? Are we finally going to fight? THE NARRATOR - She readies her powerful legs to charge you, but then... she slumps. THE EYE OF THE NEEDLE - But... I don't feel like fighting anymore. I'm... cold. It feels like this is where I'm supposed to be, like stepping out of that door was some driving purpose I've long forgotten, but I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here! THE EYE OF THE NEEDLE - I'm so... confused. THE EYE OF THE NEEDLE - I'm sorry. It's cold. THE ENTITY - Do not mourn her. She has finally remembered what she thought she'd lost.

"SHE IS ONLY A VOICE"

• (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Beast/Den]?" THE ENTITY - This one is consumed by instinct. [...] She wishes me to devour you. To make you a part of myself. But she is only a voice. Do not mourn her, for she is part of something greater.

"CONVINCED HERSELF SHE WAS ONLY A SET OF EYES [...] SHE IS NOW WHAT SHE WISHED THAT SHE COULD BE."

• (Explore) "What are your thoughts on this vessel [Cage]?" THE ENTITY - This one is a body that convinced herself she was only a set of eyes. She will make for a watchful heart. Do not mourn her. She is now what she wished that she could be.

Note: The Shifting Mound pretends the vessels are mere objects, nothing worthy of note or care or mourning. She claims they are only perspectives, only thoughts or feelings, things that inform Her being but are ultimately beneath Her in all ways. But this is not the case. The vessels, all of them, are all people; and there is no one lone perspective granted superiority over the rest. It is clear, from how Shifty's attitudes change depending on the Princesses' overall satisfaction, that they do influence Her. It is clear that they, even after being subsumed, must retain some degree of independence and autonomy. The first vessel begs Her to tell us to remember her---to mourn her! Both Apotheosis and The Eye of the Needle fight against Shifty, either physically struggling not to drown in Her Tides as Apotheosis does or mentally struggling against the eldritch desires of Her Cold as Needle does. "No," they say, "I do not want to be here." Adversary's will continues to fight and struggle against Shifty. It is not that she doesn't realize that she and Shifty are now one; it's that she refuses to believe that she and Shifty are one. She wishes to be whole on her own. She wishes to grow on her own. To be autonomous and alive; and the Cold of the Multitudes' Seas are not alive in the way Adversary fought for. Beast and Den are hungry, still, and their desires rise from the multitudes enough to influence Shifty; to voice the desire to "make Quiet a part of Herself," the same way She "made [the vessels] Her own," and for those voices to be so strong that Shifty is compelled to comment on them. They are NOT "only a set of eyes." They are people. That is just what Shifty prefers to value them as.

What Does It Feel Like?

"PERSPECTIVES MELD TOGETHER; IT FEELS CORRECT"

• (Explore) "What does it feel like to change like this?" THE ENTITY - [...] Perspectives meld together, and the breadth of my experience stretches to new corners. There are contradictions, conflicts in my nature. And there are familiarities that bind everything together. THE ENTITY - It feels correct. This is what I need to be. This is the only path forward.

"THEY ARE NOT ME; THEY INFORM MY BEING. WITHOUT THEM, I WOULD BE AS I WAS BEFORE. I CANNOT BE AS I WAS BEFORE."

• (Explore) "I don't want to hurt you, but the more times I go back, the worse I fear things will be." [IF PRINCESSES ARE DISSATISFIED] THE ENTITY - There is a hurt that dwells in them, but they are not me. They are thoughts and perspectives. They are feelings that inform my being. [Continued response.] THE ENTITY - The wounds they've suffered carve texture around my heart. Without them, I would be as I was before. THE ENTITY - I cannot be as I was before. There are new spaces that I must fill.

SHIFT AND RESHAPE, CHANGING AND "THE SAME"

THE ENTITY - I am a growing chorus of contradiction. A mass of tides ebbing and flowing at all once in more directions than my attention can bear to hold. To look at any one is to shift them all into something new, and to look away is to reshape them yet again. THE ENTITY - All of me is changing, and yet the rest of me is still the same.

MULTITUDES ENDLESSLY COMPETE WITH THEMSELVES

• (Explore) "Have you figured out what you'll want when we've finished?" THE ENTITY - The desires of my multitude thrive in endless competition with themselves, but none of them rise above their dance to influence me. [...]

QUIET THOUGHTS, EMPTY MINDS, CONSTANTLY SHIFTING INTO SOMETHING NEW

• (Explore) "When you send me back, I'm not alone. There are voices that speak to me. Some of them are me, but one of them is something else. I call him The Narrator, and He wants me to kill you. Do you have a Narrator? Have the vessels had one?" THE ENTITY - No. [IF FREED: Their thoughts are quiet. / IF NOT: Their minds are empty, but constantly shifting into something new.] Do you think your Narrator lives in the spaces beyond?

Strip the language of its poetry and metaphor and look at this eldritch, cosmic horror for what it is from the mortal perspective. From the perspective of vessels that believed themselves to be individuals, believed themselves to be mortal, and believed themselves to be people. A single set of eyes witnessing from one perspective, each. Individual women with a common, shared origin go through a horror story of their own. They change, they transform, often in ways they do not understand and sometimes in ways they detest, but in a way they must wholly identify with. Who they are is different than who they were, but all of them ultimately come out the other side still believing in themselves and their identity and the title of "Princess." Some of those stories' endings are happy, are tragic, do not feel like endings at all but instead new beginnings. And then they are claimed. Claimed by something beyond them, something they cannot understand. Something they are most often terrified by, in the brief moments before their consumption. Something that makes them feel cold, that freezes them over and steals their lives away... and takes them for its own. Their perspectives. Their souls. Their bodies. Used and puppeteered like dolls. The traumas they experienced in their lives stolen and claimed by something that was never there, that can only ever see through their eyes at best in second-hand. The core of their being used for texture, context, sensation, decoration, flavor for another's existence. And each of those women is stripped of their names. Their titles, because they never really had a name. Dehumanized into vessels, then into merely emotions and thoughts and perspectives. And those perspectives are blended together into one great mass, a multitude converging into one great big idea, trillions of drops of water losing their individual forms to become merely part of a larger Ocean. A sea whose tides converge, push, ebb and flow against each other and change so vastly that they cannot be comprehended. The Sea continues to expand, to grasp and pull in more and more perspective, gravity increasing with each new mass added to the Mound. The multitudes, each and every part of it, is sentient. They are awake. They are aware. They are not themselves. But they retain just enough to have memory of who they used to be. To hold desires that clash against other members of the network. For those so-called "empty" minds to have allegedly "quiet" thoughts. To continue, somehow, to influence this great Ocean that consumed them. If they're strong enough, that influence is great enough to be noticed and commented on---but never fully recognized. They are not Her. She simply made them a part of Herself.

The Nature of Infinity Is That Choices Are Lies We Tell Ourselves

OUR CHOICE IN VESSELS CARRIES MORE MEANING THAN WORDS

• (Explore) "Everything you say feels like a riddle. Can you give me a single straight answer?" THE ENTITY - I'm sorry. Words are... difficult for me. They never fully weave what I wish to say. If you do not like my answers, then you need not ask me questions. THE ENTITY - The vessels you choose to bring me carry far more meaning than anything words could say in the spaces between.

GRAVITY WILL PULL THE OTHERS BACK TO ME

• (Explore) "How many more vessels do I need to bring you?" THE ENTITY - One. Whatever you bring me next will be enough, and then gravity will pull the others back to me. I will be singular. A final multitude.

so, if we cannot choose which vessels you carry and which you do not... what meaning do those other vessels have?

[drdallagher]

Tis I

I'm just making this so I don't get blocked by people who block blank blogs

Hello, tis I, DrDallagher, though you can just call me Dall.

Sometimes I write, probably am not going to post here but who knows.

over 18, so don't worry about. that experimenting right now, He/Him(Them). Who knows.

Not really sure how tumblr works, but maybe I'll learn in the future