#(the building is kind of. circular in design)

[bright-and-burning]

just discovered (after over a year of working here) that there is a whole other third of office space that i did not know existed.

[evan-collins90]

Zorine's (nightclub) - Chicago, IL (1976)

Designed by Richard Himmel

"Although we never entered a speakeasy during Prohibition Days, it must have been something like the experience we had on our first visit to Zorine's shortly after it had opened last January.

Only the address indicated we were at the right place.

Otherwise, we faced a nondescript glass door in the window wall at one end of a new brick building. Inside, there was nothing but a counter where a host opened another door concealed in the brick wall behind him and ushered us into a darkly lit, circular vestibule. Here, we waited while someone was dispatched to find the project's interior designer and co-owner, Richard Himmel, ASID.

Wearing a light colored suit and shirt open at the throat--de rigueur for the surroundings--Richard Himmel emerged from the crowded lounge and led us on a tour of the club. First, we went to one of the two balconies where small tables accommodate groups of two. From here we could look down onto the main dining area and the glass dance floor in which lights flashed in synchronization to the booming disco music.

Next, we went into the buffet area with its copious spread of hot and cold food, and then into the lounge and bar where we were shown the clear plastic piano and rhinestone lady mirrors.

After Himmel had introduced us to the project director, Gregory Stratman, he looked around at the full tables and smiled. "You can't do this kind of a job without some laughing at yourself," he began. Calling it a "very cerebral job," but one that required a "certain amount of glibness," he explained that it was designed to appeal to the young person who "ten years ago was told to cut his hair but who is now a success." In answer to our "nuts-and-bolts" questions, he explained that the place seats 230 and is open from 5 PM to 4 AM. He owns it in partnership with Arnold Morton who owns Arnie's, the well known restaurant next door in the same building. Zorine is Mrs. Morton.

Its style? "I meant it to be a departure from the natural look," Himmel explained. "It is not strictly Art Deco or Art Moderne but a combination of both, a reinterpretation of the roots of modernity and the machine age in a contemporary version of a 20's or 30's nightclub."

Lighting, he informed us, was of prime importance. "The intent was to imbue the entire space with a peach-like glow that makes everyone look beautiful. We attained this effect by working the dimmers and changing the bulbs."

As goodbyes were said, our host looked around again and beaming a broad smile asked, "It doesn't look cerebral, does it?"

Description & scans are from the Nov. 1976 issue of Interior Design Magazine

[mariacallous]

A couple of years ago, my wife bought my then four-year-old son a supercool set of wooden ramps, which could be combined with our furniture to create courses through which little balls could run. Building the first course was easy, but, as our ambitions grew, the difficulty level rose. Could we make the balls turn corners? What about generating enough momentum for them to go briefly uphill? Would the ottoman support a ramp? What about the piano bench? The variations seemed endless. Two or three times a month for the next two years, we tweaked our techniques or incorporated new elements into complicated routes. By the time my son got bored with the whole exercise, earlier this year, we’d become ramp experts, capable of seeing untapped ramp potential in almost any random object—an old stuffed animal, a dustpan, a strangely shaped cardboard box.

I hadn’t expected to enjoy the ramps so much. But they turned out to be a portal into a special kind of experience, one that involved an exploratory loop of trying, failing, revising, and trying again. This is a special kind of effortful repetition. In many parts of our lives, we repeat ourselves in order to optimize or perfect a task: once, at a corporate-bonding event, I raced a go-kart around a track for fifty laps, gradually refining my racing line so that my times decreased; a couple of mornings a week, my son makes his baby sister a cheese omelette, and each time he strives to produce a more perfect cylinder. That’s repetition as the dogged pursuit of an ideal.

There’s another kind of repetitive activity, though—one that combines loops of repetition with variation to allow for exploration and discovery. It invites us to change our approach in an open-ended way that, over time, deepens our inner resources. If you cook a stew each week, you don’t have to follow a set recipe each time; you can endlessly adjust your ingredients, developing your intuition as a cook and adding pages to your mental recipe book. When you practice a piece of music over and over, you can vary your performance as you go, conjuring new shades of composition and feeling. When you paint a landscape and then repaint it, you can observe how changes in the light reveal new aesthetic opportunities and aspects of nature. In all these cases, repetition doesn’t lead to a single, Platonic end point. Instead, it contributes to an expanding set of possibilities, which reflect your growing consciousness.

There are practical reasons to engage in activities like these. Some of those stews, performances, and landscapes might be transcendent, perhaps in ways you wouldn’t have envisioned. It’s also illuminating to learn, one repetition at a time, that there are various paths to success. After making a lot of tasty vegetarian stews over the years, you become ready to turn whatever’s in your kitchen—beans, tomatoes, that weird vegetable your wife got at the farmers’ market—into a delicious meal for your vegetarian friends. You’ll have mapped what engineers call the “design space”—the set of winning possibilities inherent in your endeavor. This is, broadly speaking, an evolutionary way of working. In evolution by natural selection, each new generation of creature is almost exactly the same as the previous one, but with subtle variations which can turn out to be valuable when the environment shifts. Because the environment is always shifting, no species can ever achieve perfection; instead, it’s variation that insures survival.

Something similar can be true in our individual lives. We’re drawn to activities that invite us to grow, by trying and trying again, because we want to evolve as people. Life is mostly repetitive—wake, eat, work, sleep, repeat—and each day can feel like an unsatisfying circle. But repetition with variation broadens us. It makes our circular days into spiralling journeys. “The spiral is a spiritualized circle,” Vladimir Nabokov wrote, in “Speak, Memory.” “In the spiral form, the circle, uncoiled, has ceased to be vicious; it has been set free.” This way of being, for which we don’t even have a name, is part of what makes us feel that we’re really living our lives instead of just going through the motions.

We’re so used to trying things for ourselves that it seems bizarre to imagine us ever stopping. And yet, more and more, it’s becoming clear that artificial intelligence can relieve us of the burden of trying and trying again. A.I. systems make it trivially easy to take an existing thing and ask for a new iteration. The technology is still developing, and yet already an A.I. can give you a custom recipe based on a photo of what’s in your fridge. Songwriting A.I.s can generate version after version of a new tune; image-creating A.I.s can tweak an image endlessly. Is the automated exploration of alternatives a good substitute for the organic equivalent? Is this kind of variation-creation the same thing as human creativity? These are important questions to ask because, as A.I. grows more powerful, we will be tempted more and more to give up in advance and let it figure things out for us.

People are adopting A.I. at different rates, and so far only some of us have experienced this temptation. Trust me: it creeps up on you. Not long ago, in her weekly newsletter, the owner of my local bookstore wrote about some trees in front of her shop, which the town had cut down; it had promised to plant new ones but hadn’t yet done so. She suggested that we write to our town supervisor to complain. My wife took the relevant bits of the newsletter, pasted them into Claude—the A.I. system offered by the firm Anthropic—and asked it to redraft them as an e-mail to the county. When the result seemed overwrought, she had it rework the e-mail, and then sent it. She got a prompt and courteous reply from the town, promising that the project would soon resume, which it did. A significant amount of mental effort—of writing, and perhaps rewriting—had been rendered unnecessary, to useful effect.

A couple of weeks later, the day before we were supposed to go on vacation, our son got sick. I suspected that he had norovirus, which is like the stomach flu squared. I postponed our flights and asked ChatGPT to tell me about the likely course of the illness, which is highly contagious, as it marauded through our family. OpenAI’s newest model, o3—which some observers have judged as exhibiting artificial general intelligence, or A.G.I., a humanlike level of cognition—explained what was in store with what I can only describe as verve. (Our toddler daughter probably wouldn’t warn us about her own nausea, it warned: “She might be happily toddling along and then suddenly—bam.”) All this was familiar enough—I already knew that A.I. was good at knowledge retrieval. But then the system offered to plan the crisis for me. “If you want, I can help with a survival checklist for handling both kids if she gets sick too—like which cleaning products actually work, or which surfaces are sneakily germy (hello, doorknobs and light switches),” it wrote. “Or a tongue-in-cheek ‘Parent Plague Protocol.’ You need backup, Josh, and I am here for it.” Needless to say, I’ve navigated many family illnesses without the help of A.I. Those experiences have made me a more capable and confident parent. Still, I wondered whether my approach should change.

Thinking takes effort. In a 2024 paper titled “The Unpleasantness of Thinking: A Meta-Analytic Review of the Association Between Mental Effort and Negative Affect,” three psychologists reviewed a hundred and seventy studies conducted in twenty-nine countries and concluded that, for almost everyone everywhere, “mental effort is inherently aversive”—that is, no fun. We might add that redoing one’s mental effort is even less fun. Once you’ve written an e-mail, or coded an app, the last thing you want to do is rewrite or recode it. An A.I., by contrast, can’t feel cognitive discomfort (or anything else); if you ask it to redo its work differently, it will oblige not just instantly and repeatedly but without tiring. Commanding an A.I. to do something only once could even be considered a waste. If you do that, you’re like a Victorian traveller who’s impressed by how effectively a locomotive can carry passengers and hand luggage; you’re missing the fact that it can also ferry many tons of coal and steel. An A.I. can haul a vast cognitive load—instead of asking for simply one recipe, you should ask for ten. The whole painful cycle of trying, failing, revising, judging, and redoing can be replaced with something simpler: plucking the most suitable result out of a pile.

In the physical realm, we’re familiar with the costs of laziness. If you drive everywhere and never walk, if you binge-watch TV shows instead of playing sports, if you get lost in video games instead of going on hikes, then you grow lethargic, unfit, and inflexible. You become less willing to stride to the top of the hill, and more likely to lose your grip on the handrail when you trip on the stairs. We know all this, but we’re lazy anyway, because the technologies that encourage physical inactivity offer so many practical benefits. In the cognitive realm, artificial intelligence is similarly double-edged. The same technology that allows us to skip the unpleasant work of thinking for ourselves can also help us automate the writing of repetitive e-mails and the discovery of new drugs. Tasks that once took hours can be accomplished in minutes; problems can be instantly analyzed; befuddling subjects can be made welcoming through conversation. It may be hard to take advantage of these opportunities without losing the inclination to climb mental hills under our own power.

The gym offers one model for mental effort in the age of A.I. Perhaps we’ll come to see thinking for ourselves as an optional and semi-recreational form of self-improvement, something we choose to do because we want to make our minds stronger. But gym-going has turned out to have advantages and disadvantages. For some people—the super-committed—it can open the door to extreme fitness. But it also produces weekend warriors—muscle-bound bros who can bench their own weight but tweak their backs while collecting toys on the lawn. Intellectual gym-going risks leaving certain mental muscles untrained. Perhaps there are especially unpleasant mental tasks (for example, learning how to adjust and readjust your family’s travel plans when illness strikes) that offer benefits we too readily overlook: the cultivation of patience, the taming of frustration, attention to detail, the calibration of optimism and pessimism.

One of the paradoxes created by physical automation is that people can be physically effective and physically weak at the same time. Even if you’re in bad shape, you can easily transport hundreds of pounds of luggage in your car. Similarly, if A.I. turns out to be as effective as many researchers think it will be, then people who use it well may be able to produce effective intellectual products—reports, experiments, business strategies, and the like—without themselves doing intellectual work. In such a future, how will we gauge our own mental vitality? People who are serious about fitness have all sorts of ways to keep track of their performance: they wear heart-rate monitors, or try to lower their marathon times, or take on new challenges meant to reveal their weak points. We’re not used to scrutinizing our levels of mental engagement that way. We may have to start.

There is, meanwhile, an inner dimension to performing mental tasks for yourself, or deciding not to. Just as physical effort reshapes our bodies, mental effort reshapes our minds and, therefore, our identities and our selves. Consider two cooks. One proceeds in the traditional way, learning how to cook through years of experimentation, ascending from the mastery of individual recipes to a broader and more intuitive feel for how ingredients and techniques go together. The other relies on an A.I. to generate recipes one by one, often based on whatever happens to be on sale or in the fridge. An A.I. can do this successfully because, just like the first human cook, it’s been exposed to countless recipes and used them to develop intuitions about cooking. It, too, has ascended, through a training process, from particulars to generalities. In contrast, the second human cook never has to develop those intuitions; he stays at the level of individual recipes. Of the three chefs—the first cook, the second cook, and the A.I.—he is actually the least well trained.

Does this mean that the second cook is different, as a person, from the first cook? Certainly, his mind, his capabilities, and his story are different. The way in which he makes choices is different—it’s one thing when a masterly cook makes you a meal based on a recipe that he treasures after a lifetime of cooking, and another when someone uses a recipe an A.I. has chosen. And we might say that, to some degree, his character is different. The second cook might make a good dinner, but he’s not someone who has tried to learn to cook, failed, and eventually succeeded. He hasn’t really lived life as a cook; he’s just going through the motions.

Suppose the differences between these two cooks were repeated in many domains of intellectual labor. Imagine, as an extreme case, two individuals, one of whom attempts to solve problems by herself, and the other of whom often enlists the help of an A.I. when mental labor is required. They would be quite different people. One would be a thinker, the other a consumer. One would have a mind shaped by learning; the other, a mind shaped by preferences. One would have a wide range of evolved, adaptable, internalized competencies; the other, a sense of what to ask for. In real life, of course, these won’t be two separate people: they’ll be two potentialities within each of us. In how much of our thinking lives will we be passengers, rather than pilots?

In theory, there’s a third possibility. Observers of A.I. have long noted the existence of “centaurs”—human experts who push their efforts further with the help of computers. Maybe, for example, the first, well-trained cook could use an A.I. to come up with even more inventive recipes. But this optimistic scenario presupposes the continued existence of well-trained cooks. It’s reasonable to ask whether, as A.I. proliferates, many people won’t begin to question the value of training their own minds when computers are already so well trained. And it’s also unclear how intellectual passivity in some domains might affect our performance in others. In my life, I’ve given two best-man speeches; at the time I gave them, I was nervous (who wouldn’t be?). If A.I. had existed then, I might have at least considered asking for its help. Let’s say I resisted the temptation—but let’s also imagine that I had already employed A.I. extensively on other kinds of writing, using it to compose my e-mails and craft my presentations. Would I still have been able to write the speeches that I ended up writing? Or would my over-all capability as a writer have stagnated or declined?

It feels strange to imagine that, someday soon, we might need to start reminding ourselves to think. But that’s what artificial intelligence does—it thinks—and, in many contexts, promises to do the thinking for us. In a world saturated with technology, we already have to remind ourselves to put down our phones; to go outside; to see friends in person; to go places instead of staring at them on our screens; to have non-technological experiences, such as boredom. If we’re not careful, then our minds will do less as computers do more, and we will be diminished as a result. 

[maykitz]

played a bit of frostpunk 2 and so far it seems good. giving more depth to the laws system was a straight upgrade. the expedited time passage removes the nighttimes that could previously have nothing to do depending on playstyle so probably a good call. i'm not a huge fan of trading in the circular grid for hexagonal tiles; it removes such a core characteristic and unique trait of the original for nothing. in general the generator seems have gotten downgraded both visually and gameplay wise. in the first one it's (literally) the centre of everything, you would frequently fiddle with the heat setting to balance coal consumption against heat requirements, use overdrive etc. now it's just another part of the economy, it regulates itself and just sits there. cold is just another society debuff like crime or disease. i haven't progressed much but it seems you're now supposed to manage concurrent cities which is fun. the new icebreaking mechanic to unlock buildable area is kind of whatever though. it adds nothing but additional cost to buildings, idk the point. but the overall ui to my mind is definitely worse. the og was really easy to get into playing because it's visually distinct and logical, you know where everything is. i can't put into words well what bothers me about it now but i feel like it's lacking clarity. the outside world exploration screen just doesn't tell me what's happening at a glance anymore. the buildings don't look very distinct. it's kinda like, grey/white/metal slop visuals. and it feels like they knew this because they added coloured overlay. but if you change a base builder to a city builder why do you design the districts so samey that you need overlays to distinguish them? it's not like you were *that* constricted by realism, the first one has guys flying around to hunt meat. lol

[duckduckington]

Differences of the WoY visual style between the pilot and the final show (Along some other stuff) (Part 1)

So a crap-ton of cartoon show bibles and pilots surfaced recently, which is kind of fucking cool, and it included stuff from Wander over Yonder, which is way fucking cooler.

First thing I did was over-analyze the show's visual style and I figure I should put my findings somewhere, so here you go! In a chronological order, it's easier that way (and builds suspense for the real good stuff, ooohooooh (in a spooky ghost voice)).

The first shot alone already brings forth some differences. As far as I know, the show never illustrates space like this, entirely black with just a couple of stars to break the void. There's usually some blue star dust or something, kinda like this:

The skullship was planned to be 3D-animated apparently, instead of being drawn in the same style as the backgrounds. This allows for WAY more complex movements, since it's easier to pull off.

We then get to take a looksie inside of the ship... this isn't like ANYTHING in the show.

We do see control rooms on occasion, but not one like this. It's a circular room with rows of watchdogs on the wall, watching monitors, circulating the middle where Hater sits on his throne. The railings on its support carry Peepers and his cockpit. Two watchdogs control the ship (I think) at the front. That blue goop at the top might be the ship's brain (you can also already see some animation errors in the front, peep their grabbers). There ain't ever been a color palette inside the ship like this, they usually opt for red and black rather than red and white. This might have been their solution to making the characters native to Hater pop out against the background before deciding to just substitute black for purple.

There's still bright locations within the skullship, but they're non-threatening ones, like the food court.

Commander Peepers and the watchdogs have designs that, while closer to their final versions than the pitch bible (or whatever that cover of that graphic novel was supposed to be), carry some traits still worth pointing out (well, so does everything here, but pshhhshshhhshh).

SHINY

COLLARS

Puffy collars around necks, wrists and ankles.

Detailed irises.

Detailed soles on shoes.

Those lines on their gloves that you see in your grandpa's toons.

(bugs bunny pictured flipping the bird)

This is specific to Peepers; the jagged thunder-spike on his helmet has dimension to it, as opposed to the implied dimension in his final design. Spikes on the side are also way longer here.

His eye/face emotes differently by just utilizing a black eyelid, rather than turning the hat into a pseudo-eyebrow, kinda like Double D from Ed, Edd n' Eddy.

We then get a glimpse at Hater's design...

Despite his face missing, you can already see some differences, like his arms resembling more those of an actual skeleton and packing a lot less mass. His hood is also a bit more tout and the folds surrounding it have more empathis.

Another space shot with some shapes to break up the infinite black; it's not always you see a warm color palette for space in the actual show.

Maybe here, when Wander and Sylvia stop the sun from blowing up in "The Good Deed".

When entering the city that's about to get its shit stirred by Hater, we notice that there aren't ANY other locations illustrated like this. We usually have smooth, airbrushy looking stuff, when this is more reminiscent of a comic strip, with clear lines and some hatching to indicate weight here and there. Same goes for the townsfolk, they remind me of... Krazy Kat or something. Craig McCracken has gone on record saying he drew a lot of inspiration from old comic strips, but I don't know if Krazy Kat is one of them. I just thought of it :)

The inside of the skullship looked different so this place might have had an unique artstyle to other locations we would've seen in this version of the show, but that would also be a big difference since the actual show keeps the background style consistent throughout the whole run (as far as I know).

Goes in hand with the skullship; the watchdogs are 3D-animated here, although subtly.

Different gun designs... they look more like water guns here. Big ol' TUBES. Their guns in the show are more sci-fi-esque.

Hater's logo is different, in-line with his design. Way flatter design too. Might as well take a look at his actual face now.

Well, more like next time. Just found out you can only use up to 30 images in one post. Oopsies. I'll continue this when I have the energy! I'll continue my chronological analysis/rambling and perhaps talk about the general art-style and animation at the end. Might take me a couple of more posts.

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

For your entertainment, the opening of the next ex-twitter project I'm hoping to finish before the year is out.

---------------

As Jin Ling -with help from a visiting Ouyang Zizhen- is digging through all the stuff left behind by his uncle and grandfather's shadier practices, he comes across a mirror that looks a lot like the one that leads to the hidden treasure room, only it's much newer and smaller, only big enough for one person to pass through at a time.

It works just the same, though.

So, dragging Zizhen by the hand to keep the mirror from separating them, Jin Ling pushes through and finds a circular-shaped room.

No, it's a circular-shaped building, the one room being its only room.

And it has no door.

There is a bed between its two windows and a few empty shelves lining the wall, the make of the furniture entirely unfamiliar to either of them.

They check the windows and find they've been heavily warded, and some kind of power they're not willing to investigate too deeply radiates from the bed.

Concerned, they decide to contact Wei Wuxian, who of course brings his little Lan entourage with him.

Examining the furniture and the wards, Wei Wuxian begins to get a little rock of unease in his stomach. The Juniors might not recognize the carving style of the furniture, but that's because they've never seen any of the family quarters in the Unclean Realms.

And the wards and lack of any doors...

He investigates the array carved into the floor under the bed and the wards up its frame.

Anyone laid in it would be almost instantly placed into an inedia coma with the slightest infusion of qi, and the array is designed to re-circulate that energy, meaning it could run for a very long time without having to be reactivated.

He hears Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen muttering to each other near one of the shelves.

"-yeah, I remember her, but that was a house-house. With guards and alarms and stuff," Jingyi says.

"But she was a normal lady," Zizhen replies. "What if you wanted to hide away a cultivator?"

Normally, Wei Wuxian loves how clever their ducklings are, but right now, he hopes they don't reach the same conclusion that he has.

He trades glances with Lan Zhan and can see that his brilliant husband has also picked up on his worries.

This is a cage that has been designed for one bird in particular.

Maybe... maybe it's best that they simply destroy it without telling Nie Huaisang about its existence.

And maybe it's best that he backs off on his jibes about "paranoia" on Nie Huaisang's part in the future, if this is just a small sample of the kinds of things he had to fear in the years Wei Wuxian was dead.

—

This is how it went in one timeline. 

—

In another, Nie Huaisang did indeed get caught and Jin Guangyao sealed him away in an inedia coma so he couldn't keep interfering.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

The first architectural rendering of the future Rockefeller Center (then called Metropolitan or Radio City) was revealed on March 6, 1931.

The press was not kind. "The crux of the problem is that Radio City is ugly," wrote the Herald Tribune. "The exterior is hideously dull and ugly." The Times referred to its "architectural fallacies and horrors." The central feature of the design, a circular structure to house Chase National Bank, was called an "oil drum."

The architects were sent back to the drawing board, with Raymond Hood now advising. He opened up the campus, which had had a lot of buildings crammed into a small space, replaced the brick with limestone, and scrapped the oil drum. He also added rooftop gardens to several buildings and placed a fountain in the sunken plaza.

Photo: istoriadelosrascacielosdenuevayork

[nabipalsueradigital]

I. Objective Definition: What is Anti-Reality?

Anti-Reality = A system of values/logic that exists outside, or fundamentally contradicts, the ordinary laws of existence (mathematics, logic, physics, consciousness).

We are not talking about nothingness, but ordered chaos — a kind of inverse existence.

II. Building a Logical Foundation: Use Familiar Symbols and Structures

We start by establishing the basic axioms:

The Basic Axioms of Anti-Reality (ARA):

1. ARA-1: ∞ – ∞ = ∅ (Absolute emptiness of absolute duality)

2. ARA-2: 1 = 0 (Annihilation of logical identity)

3. ARA-3: x / 0 = ∞ (Explosion of existence from absurd division)

4. ARA-4: ∞ – §(∞) = R (R as a representation of finite reality due to the limitation of the ‘rule’ §)

5. ARA-5: Anti-Reality (AR) = lim_{x→0} [ (1 – x) / x ] – 1

→ Diverges to infinity, implying the existence of singularities that defy logical limits.

6. ARA-6: AR = limₙ→∞ (¬N)ⁿ

Explanation:

AR: Anti-Reality

¬N: Negation of Nothing (which is neither existent nor non-existent)

(¬N)ⁿ: Recursion of negation of nothingness

limₙ→∞: When the recursion goes to infinity, what remains is not the result, but the disappearance of the process itself

III. Design the Main Equation of Anti-Reality

Anti-Reality = Inverse of Defined Reality

So, if we set:

Reality (R) = ∞ – §(∞)

Then:

Anti-Reality (AR) = –(∞ – §(∞)) + Ξ

Where Ξ is an undefined anomaly, a representation of paradox and singularity (∅/∅, 1=0, etc.).

So, the final form:

AR = –(∞ – §(∞)) + Ξ

→ AR = §(∞) – ∞ + Ξ

IV. Symbolic Interpretation

§(∞): Representation of illusory constraints (system, logic, time, consciousness)

–∞: Denial of infinite existence

Ξ: Singular anomaly (existential paradox)

V. Shortened Version for Formal Notation:

AR = §(∞) – ∞ + Ξ

AR = (∞ constrained) – (∞ pure) + (singular paradox)

2. Anti-Reality Logic Notation (NLA)

This is not classical logic (true/false), nor is it fuzzy logic. This is a logic where contradiction is the foundation, and paradox is the basic law.

1. New Truth Value (AR-Boolean)

Definition:

R: Reality (true in the real world)

¬R: Anti-reality (which cancels the existence of R)

Ø: Existential / neutral / non-being void

Ξ: Paradoxical singularity (simultaneous R and ¬R)

2. New Operators

⊻: Mutual Contradiction → R ⊻ ¬R = Ξ

⧗: Merge Anomaly → R ⧗ Ø = ¬R

≢: Absolute Non-Identity → A ≢ A

∞→0: Paradoxical Implication (all infinite implies void)

II. Time Function in AR-Space

Time in anti-reality (let's call it T_AR) is not linear, not circular, but:

T_AR ∈ ℂ × ℝ × Ξ

Time is a combination of:

Imaginary complex (time direction can go to the minus root)

Infinite dimensions (time series diverge)

Paradoxical (exists & does not exist at the same time)

Formal Model:

Time function T_AR(t):

T_AR(t) = i·(–t)ᵃ + Ξ·sin(1/t) for t ≠ 0

i: imaginary unit

tᵃ: reversed time (a > 1 accelerates backward)

Ξ·sin(1/t): paradoxical oscillations as time approaches zero (singularity)

Interpretation:

As time approaches zero (assuming “beginning”), the system becomes oscillates unstably — approaching existential singularity.

Imaginary indicates time that cannot be measured empirically.

Negation of time indicates inverse entropy (chaos becomes order → rise of anti-reality).

III. Application of AR Time Notation

Example 1:

An event exists in AR if and only if:

T_AR(t) = Ξ

That is, only when time reaches a singular point, the paradox of existence actually exists.

Example 2:

Existential transition:

d(AR)/dT_AR = –R

The existence of anti-reality grows inversely to reality when time runs in a negative vector.

Create “Primary Existential Paradox”:

For example: E(x) = x ⊻ ¬x

Existence is defined as its own conflict

2. AR modal logic model:

□R → “definitely real”

◇¬R → “possibly void”

But in AR: □R ∧ ◇¬R → Ξ (existence is still paradoxical)

IV. Radical Consequences:

1. Reality cannot be proven consistent in AR-logic.

2. Time is not just a dimension — it is a function of inconsistency.

3. Existence can be calculated but not proven.

3. FOUNDATIONS OF ANTI-REALITY MATHEMATICS (AR-MATH)

1. Basic Axioms

1. Paradoxical Axiom:

For every entity x, it holds:

x ≢ x

(Absolute identity does not hold — x's existence is contextual & fluctuating.)

2. Axiom of Existential Emptiness:

Ø ⊻ Ø = R

(Two emptinesses collide to produce the manifestation of reality.)

3. Anti-Associative Axiom:

(a ⊕ b) ⊕ c ≠ a ⊕ (b ⊕ c)

(There is no guarantee that the order of operations produces consistent results.)

4. Axiom of Complex Singularity:

∀x ∈ AR, x → Ξ ∈ ℂ × ℝ × Ø

(Every entity in AR always goes to an existential singularity complex.)

2. AR Number Structure (AR-Numbers)

We develop new number domains, ℝ̸, ℂ̸, and Ξℝ:

ℝ̸: Real anti-numbers → real numbers with negative existential values

ℂ̸: Complex anti-numbers → inverse imaginary complex numbers

Ξℝ: Paradoxical numbers → exist in the duality of existence/non-existence

Example operation:

(1̸) + (1̸) = 2̸

i̸ · i̸ = –1̸

Ξ + R = Ø

II. AR GEOMETRY

1. AR-Space

A space where the coordinates are of the form:

P = (x̸, y̸, z̸, T_AR)

x̸, y̸, z̸ ∈ ℝ̸

T_AR non-linear imaginary complex time (see previous model)

Paradoxical Metric:

d(P1, P2) = √[(Δx̸)² + (Δy̸)² + (Δz̸)²] ⧗ Ξ

Note: This space is non-Euclidean, non-orientable, and non-time-symmetric.

2. Negative Dimension & AR Fractal

Dim_AR = –n + iφ

Dimension is a negative complex number. For example:

–3 + iπ → space with negative direction and invisible oscillation

III. ANTI-REALITY CALCULUS

1. Existential Inverse Derivative

d̸f/d̸x = lim Δx→0 [f(x̸–Δx̸) – f(x̸)] / Δx̸

Backward time derivative

Can produce paradoxical numbers (Ξ)

2. Existential Integral

∫̸f(x̸)d̸x̸ = total existential chaos that the system goes through

Interpretation is not the area under the curve, but the degree of existence inconsistency in the range x̸.

IV. ANTI-REALITY SET THEORY

1. Definition of AR Set:

A = {x | x ≢ x}

All elements are entities that deny their own existence

2. Anti-Venn Set

There is no absolute intersection

A ∩ B = Ø even though A = B

3. AR Power Set:

P(A) = {Ξ, Ø, ¬A, A ⧗ Ø}

The power set also contains existential complementarities and singularities of the set.

V. STRUCTURAL IMPLEMENTATION

1. AR-Logic Engine

Simulate the system using:

A loop paradox-based engine

A structure like an automata that never reaches a final state (because reality cannot be solved)

2. Non-Linear Time Simulation

A runtime shape like a multidimensional spiral

Time travel = change in direction of the T_AR vector by contextual function (with Ξ as a transition point)

VI. CONCLUSION AND FURTHER DIRECTION

AR-Math = rebellion against coherence

Not because it wants to create chaos — but to redefine the boundaries of reality.

4. BASIC PRINCIPLES OF EXISTENTIAL PHYSICS (BASED ON AR-MATH)

1. Absolute Uncertainty Principle (AR-Heisenberg)

Not only position and momentum cannot be known simultaneously, existence and non-existence cannot be determined absolutely.

Formally:

> ΔΞ · ΔR ≥ ℏ̸ / 2

where:

ΔΞ: existential state fluctuations

ΔR: spatial reality fluctuations

ℏ̸: anti-Planck constant (negative-imaginary value)

2. Energy Inconsistency Postulate

Energy is not a positive or conservative quantity, but:

> E̸ = Ξ̸ · (iT_AR)⁻¹

E̸: inverse existential energy

Ξ̸: paradoxical intensity

T_AR: imaginary complex time

Energy is anti-conservative → increases as the system collapses.

3. Negative-Transcendental Entropy

> S̸ = –k̸ ln(Ξ)

S̸: existential entropy

k̸: anti-Boltzmann constant

Meaning: The more chaotic the system, the greater the possibility that reality itself never existed.

II. DYNAMICS OF ANTI-PHYSICAL OBJECTS

1. AR-Kinetics

Anti-Newtonian Laws of Motion:

1. Objects will remain in a state of non-existence or existence until viewed from outside the system.

2. Force is an existential reflection effect between two paradoxical states:

F̸ = d̸Ξ/d̸t̸

3. Interaction does not cause a reaction, but rather an existential distortion:

F₁ + F₂ = Ξ_total

2. Existential Anti-Gravity

Gravity is not an attractive force, but:

the tendency of a space to cancel itself out.

Formula:

> G̸ = (Ξ₁ · Ξ₂) / (d̸² · e^(iθ))

d̸: distance in AR space

θ: spatial instability phase

G̸: anti-realistic gravitational constant

3. AR-Quantum

a. Non-Present Particles:

Particles exist only as perceptions of paradoxical exchange:

|ψ⟩ = α|exists⟩ + β|does-not-exist⟩

When measured, the probability is not calculated, but:

Ξψ = α̸β̸ – |α|² + i|β|²

If Ξψ is divergent, then the particle cannot be observed even paradoxically.

III. COSMOLOGICAL STRUCTURE OF ANTI-REALITY

1. Origin of the Universe (Big Null)

There is no Big Bang, but:

Big Ø – collision of two existential voids:

Ø ⧗ Ø = R ± Ξ

2. Anti-Causal Space

There is no cause and effect.

All events are backward projections from a future existential singularity:

P(t) = f(Ξ_future)

IV. AR PHYSICS PREDICTION AND APPLICATION

Time can be compressed or reversed by setting Ξ to ∞

Teleportation is not a change of location, but an existential leap

Black hole = maximum Ξ zone → total reality collapse

Consciousness = Ξ function evolving in iT_AR space

5. AR-TURING ENGINE (Ξ-Loop Paradigm)

I. GENERAL DEFINITIONS

1. Anti-Matter in AR-Math Framework

In conventional physics, anti-matter is matter that has the opposite charge to ordinary matter. When matter and anti-matter meet, they annihilate each other and produce energy.

However, if we adopt the principles of AR-Math, we can suggest that anti-matter is not a separate entity, but rather the result of a difference in existential status in AR space. That is, anti-matter is a simulation of the state of non-existence in the context of turbulent space (Ξ). Mathematically, this can be written as:

A̸ = Ξ' · f(iT_AR)

where:

A̸: antimatter

Ξ': existential distortion (spatial shift towards disequilibrium)

f(iT_AR): evolution function of time in non-linear dimensions

Anti-matter is not just "something opposite", but something that only exists in the potential of the incompatibility between existence and non-existence. When existence and non-existence interact in the AR order, we get a "collision" that produces energy in a form that cannot be understood by conventional physics.

2. Entanglement and Existential Entanglement (AR Quantum Entanglement)

In the world of quantum physics, entanglement occurs when two particles are connected in such a way that the state of one particle affects the state of the other particle, even though they are separated by a large distance in space and time.

In the framework of AR-Math, this entanglement can be understood as an existential entanglement that involves not only space, but also the complex and anti-existential dimension of time. Meaning:

Ψ_AB = Ξ_A ⊗ Ξ_B

where:

Ψ_AB: the combined state of two entangled objects

Ξ_A and Ξ_B: the existential status of two objects

⊗: the existential entanglement operator in AR space

This entanglement explains that the entanglement between two objects is not a conventional information transmission, but a deeper uncertainty relation, beyond the dimensions of ordinary physical reality. This entanglement indicates that both are manifestations of a broader existential reality, where space and time are no longer linear and separate.

So quantum computing can be upgraded using this basis

3. Dark Matter and Dark Energy as Existential Distortion

Now we enter dark matter and dark energy, two very mysterious phenomena in cosmology. Both of these things are invisible, but their influence on the structure of the universe is very large.

Dark Matter is matter that does not emit light or electromagnetic radiation, but we know it exists because of its gravitational influence on galaxies and other celestial objects.

Dark Energy is the energy thought to be responsible for the acceleration of the expansion of the universe.

In the framework of AR-Math, dark matter can be understood as the concentration of existential distortions in space that cause objects in it to be more tightly bound (more gravity), but do not interact with light or conventional matter.

Mathematically, we can write:

ρ̸_DM = Ξ_dm · f(Ξ_)

where:

ρ̸_DM: density of dark matter

Ξ_dm: existential status of dark matter

f(Ξ_): existential distortion of space in the AR dimension

Dark Energy can be understood as the existential energy that causes space-time itself to expand. That is, dark energy is not an entity that "exists" in the context of matter, but a phenomenon that drives the instability of space itself.

ρ̸_DE = f(Ξ_expansion) e^(iT_AR)

where:

ρ̸_DE: dark energy density

Ξ_expansion: expansion of existential distortion

e^(iT_AR): exponential factor describing acceleration in the anti-reality dimension.

Dark Energy in the AR-Math framework is a projection of the instability of space itself, which causes the universe to not only expand, but also become less and less like itself.

4. Particle Dualism in the AR-Math Framework

In quantum physics, particle dualism states that particles such as photons or electrons can behave like both waves and particles, depending on the experiment being performed.

In the AR-Math framework, this dualism can be explained as a shift in existence between the states of existence and non-existence of a particle. A particle exists in two possible states — existence and non-existence — that can be manipulated by measurements.

Mathematically, we can write the state of a particle as:

|ψ⟩ = α|exists⟩ + β|does-not-exist

where:

|ψ⟩: the wave function of the particle in superposition

|exists⟩ and |does-not-exist

α and β: the amplitudes for each state, which are affected by the observation.

When a particle is measured, we are not only observing the "physical" properties of the particle, but we are determining whether it exists or does not exist in AR space.

CONCLUSION

If we combine the principles of AR-Math with these physical phenomena, we can understand antimatter, entanglement, dark matter, dark energy, and particle duality as manifestations of a deeper reality, involving existential uncertainty structures, distortions of space and time, and the interplay between existence and non-existence itself.

These concepts suggest that the universe may not be what we consider "real", but rather a simulation of a deeper existential state of inconsistency, where reality itself can be interchanged with "anti-reality".

Thus, the existential physics of AR opens the way for new discoveries that could reveal how all matter and energy in the universe are connected in a wider web, which cannot be fully understood by the laws of traditional physics alone.

AR-Turing Engine (Ξ-Engine) is an automaton that:

Does not solve problems, but undergoes existential fluctuations

Does not terminate, but resonates in Ξ cycles

Does not depend on fixed inputs, but on initial existential distortions (Ξ₀)

II. BASIC COMPONENTS

1. Tape (AR Tape)

Infinite in both directions (classical), but:

Each cell = status {Exist, Non-Exist, Paradox}

Cell values: 0, 1, Ξ

2. Head (Head Ξ)

Read and write based on local status and existential density

Not only moving L or R, but also:

Stay (still)

Collapse (remove its existence)

Split (give rise to the shadow of the process on the parallel path)

3. State Register (Ξ-State)

Internal state of the engine:

{σ₀, σ₁, σ̸₁, σΞ, ...}

Transition is not f(q, s) → q', s', d

But: Ξ(q, s, Ξ₀) → {q', s', δΞ}

4. Ξ-Loop Core

Instead of stopping the engine at the end state, the engine continues to run through a paradoxical existential loop

The stopping state is neither Accept nor Reject, but rather:

Ξ-Stable = the system has reached its smallest fluctuation

Ξ-Diverged = the system is out of the spectrum of reality

III. Ξ TRANSITION (Paradoxical State Transition Table)

> Move: R = Right, L = Left, C = Collapse

Ξ: Local existential density (+1 = more existent, –1 = more non-existent)

IV. SPECIAL BEHAVIOR

1. Duplication Paradox

If Ξ_state = σΞ and tape_value = Ξ

→ the machine splits itself into parallel paths with Ξ₁ = Ξ₀ ± ε

2. Collapse Condition

If three consecutive cycles tape_value remains Ξ

→ the machine erases its existential path

3. Ξ-Convergence If the machine loops with density Ξ decreasing exponentially

→ the machine reaches minimal reality and can be used as a synchronization point between systems

V. VISUAL SIMULATION (Optional)

Each cell = color based on existential status:

0 = black

1 = white

Ξ = purple/abstract (semi-transparent)

The machine is depicted with a multi-head: visualizing existential branches

VI. BENEFITS AND APPLICATIONS

Non-deterministic computing paradigm in non-linear reality

Can be the logical basis for existential simulations, AR-AI, or paradoxical multiverse games

Philosophical framework for the “machine consciousness” model in alternative realities

If there is something to discuss, let's open a forum

[fmajorenthusiast]

I FINALLY FINISHED MY RIFF RAFF X CORDELIA PROPOSAL FANFIC!!!!!

It's a sequel to the first fanfic which I will link right here!!!

AAAAAAH I'M SO EXCITED!!! IT'S UNDER THE CUT!!!! :D

Tags: Fluff, humor, OC X canon, marriage proposal, fade to black, references to my AU, but it's easy to follow regardless, I wrote so much of this at times when I should've been sleeping, this took me a whole month to write I'm so proud of me, Riff Raff and Magenta are king and queen of Transsexual, Riff's face claim is the Kristian Lavercombe version but Magenta is Patricia Quinn!!!

Word count: 6,208 (Holy FUCK I'm so proud of me!!!)

One of Cordelia's greatest designs was the Shining Circle. It was usually a public place, but you could always pay to rent it out for the night, and that was exactly what Riff Raff had done.

The Shining Circle was an indoor, circular, and very long hallway with a beautiful and smooth dark wooden floor, but it was designed to look outdoors! The walls were completely covered in plastics made to look like shrub leaves, making it look like you were walking through a bush tunnel! The roof had a galaxy painted on top and the place was lit up by off-white fairy lights on the ceiling that seemed to have the warmest, creamiest glow. The light was somehow dim and bright all at once. He could feel the cozy warmth and the gentle darkness all at once! They were the brightest of the ceiling's stars. The planets, maybe. Time, Riff could be a nerd sometimes. However, the true masterpiece of the shining circle was the middle.

The shining circle carried the same design in the hallway all the way around, however, there were rooms inside the hallway. Each one designed to look indoors with a different kind of cozy and comfortable design and aesthetic. He remembered the first time he'd seen it so well. It was like he'd stepped into in a completely different world the minute he stepped through. There were beautiful pastel bedrooms that reminded him of being so joyful in candy stores and free in springtime, warm-toned living rooms that reminded him of the tempting, savory taste of buttery popcorn and feeling so snuggly autumn when the cold didn't matter because he was inside and safer and cozier than ever. There were shiny kitchens and dining rooms and really everything else! Fuck, there were even pillow forts in some of those rooms! All of them had a T.V inside too, and some offered free food and drink!! She'd pitched and designed the building herself, and it was one of the most remarkable things Riff had ever seen.

It was a sweet, sweet night in the shining circle and Riff Raff was fucking terrified to say the least.

Cordelia wore a mint green dress, with a floral pattern stitched on of the same color. She had chandelier earrings that were light pink with studs of the same color, a pearl bracelet, and a gold choker with yellow gemstones. They were light in a color that he wasn't sure was natural- they were clearly jewels, but he couldn't quite pin down what kind they were. They didn't seem to fit any of the types that he knew of. They were too much like sunlight, like springtime- they must've been made in a lab. Not that he cared- he wasn't even sure where the jewels that he was about to use had come from. He hadn't cared, and he knew that she wouldn't either! He'd just been so thrilled.

Riff Raff watched Cordelia with her pale skin setting off her long jet black hair in the fairy lights. Her eyes were glowing. Were they emerald or paridot or some some lovely jewel he'd forgotten in between? He couldn't answer to save his life. Oh, how he loved her, he really did. She designed this beautiful place and now she was more beautiful than the whole world in it.

She was telling him about her design choices so excitedly that she was almost skipping as she went forward. He recited his words in his head like it was a test. He couldn't believe that he was here. That she was here!! It wouldn't be long at all before he- oh time! He started reciting his lines in his head. It wouldn't be long at all before he- oh, time! He couldn't have forgotten it! When he was absolutely certain that she wasn't looking he patted his pockets with his trembling hand. He felt it. It was there. He breathed a massive sigh of relief.

***

Meanwhile, this event was being recorded on multiple security cameras. Magenta was viewing this event in a dark room at home in the castle whilst eating Nerds and making several judgements. The room was dark, save for the few tiny lights coming off of devices here and there, and, of course, the computer screen that illuminated the redhead's face as she sat in a swivel chair with her feet propped up on the table. She had the Nerds box in her hands and more spilled every time she grabbed another handful. She was in an awkward position where she was perfectly comfy, but it might hurt the minute she got up. Either way, she currently couldn't give any less of a fuck. She let out a huge laugh as she watched her brother frantically check his pockets. "I made you check zhree times before you left witzh her, you dumbass!" she said as she felt her lips tighten and rise. She could see her brother trying to cling on and fight his way through his nerves. He really was so cute- so very, very cute. She'd smiled with him as she'd painted his nails last night and they'd spoken of Cordelia and all of the world's lovely things. They'd been so emotional that it seemed that they'd remembered everything they had ever loved.

Then there had been today.

Holy fucking shit.

Cordelia had been gone at work and that man had been a hot fucking mess. A blazing one. He'd been hyperventilating so hard that she'd asked him if she should slap him and he'd seriously considered it. In the end, they just wound up pressing his back against a soft wall on repeat, thank time. Still though, he'd been about ready to explode.

Oh she could see it now....

"I'm going to burn. I'm going to burn! I'm going to burn and die and-!"

"Shhhhh!" She'd told him as she'd crossed the room and held him in her arms. "Zhis is a good zhing, brotzher! A vonderful, good zhing is going to happen tonight! You can do zhis! You're prepared!"

The wall was hard and black and firm and she made sure that it pressed into his back and she'd pressed into his front.

"What if she says no? Oh time could just fuck me right in the-"

"I'm sure zhat Cordelia vould fuck you right in zhe upper arm if you asked her to!!! She's not going to say no! She told you zhat!!!"

He paused and seemed to actually slow down and think for a second, he looked puzzled. Finally he asked, "... What would I get from being fucked in the upper arm?"

"I don't know-!"

"She could still change her mind!!! And what if she doesn't like the proposal? This isn't exactly a thing one gets a do-over on-!"

"If eizther of zhose zhings come to pass, I vill retake basic addition!"

"You passed basic addition?" He asked rhetorically, smiling and laughing. He finally relaxed and let his body soften. He slid down the wall and Magenta came and curled up with him. The ground was soft and hard all at once. It wasn't carpet, but it was smooth and cold and that was nice.

She sighed and held him tightly. As she hugged him, her body pressed against his in such a way that she could feel how fast and hard his heart was beating. She could feel the amount of raging heat coursing through his body as the anxiety caused him to sweat bullets. Though she tried not to, she laughed. She laughed and hugged her brother so, so tightly.

"What is it?" he asked, not pulling away at all, but sitting up a little bit.

"Notzhing, it's notzhing at all!" She sighed. "It's just zhat you're adorable."

"Huh?"

"Adorable!" she said through a smile. "You're so scared to ask zhis voman- who's been in our life so faitzhfully- who's been in love vitzh you zhe whole time- who's lived in our house- who's slept in our bed so many nights! And has slept in anotzher vitzh you alone on zhe rest of zhem so zhat you two could bang each otzher into oblivion! You're so perfect for each otzher and you're still scared to ask her to marry you! Not because you're doubtful about marriage, not because you're doubtful about her, but because you love her so timedamn much!"

She snuggled into him. "I knew she vas perfect for you from zhe minute I met her. I knew zhat zhe only right future vas zhe vone zhat involved her. She's zhe vone for you!"

She rested her head on his chest, facing the same direction as him, but still undoubtedly holding him. "Zhis is going to be vone of zhe best days of your life. You may not believe me, but it vill be."

He hugged her to him. "You know that you're just as much of a non-negotiable for me as she is, right?"

"I should certainly hope so."

"You know that everything my body is made of has loved you since we were in the womb and that love has only grown and I..." he paused, a confused kind of shock seeming to wash over his face.

"Yes?" She shifted her position to look at him, his eyes almost glossed over, lost in thought.

"One out of fifty," he remarked, his face seemingly in another world.

"Vhat?" She questioned as he got up and started pacing.

"In theory it's one out of fifty!" He repeated as his eyes kept widening in shock and the speed of his pacing started to quicken, his hand covering his mouth. "But then you factor in the fact that mama was young! She was only 19 when we were born!! Fucking time, 18 when we were conceived!!!"

Magenta got up and stared at him, now fully confused. "Vhat are you saying-?"

"It's not just that- she's small! Small like you!"

"You're not exactly an exception vonce you put zhings in perspective Mr. 5 ft 9-!"

"And we're the first set in our family! Magenta, if you look at the records we're the first-!"

"Please speak in a language zhat I can understand!!!" she finally interjected

He turned and looked at her like he was looking at a miracle. "Those odds aren't in our favor," he breathed. "How many times did lightning have to strike in order for us to find each other? It makes no sense at all that there's two of us! None at all!"

"But ve're botzh here!" She agreed, now understanding. "Zhere's two of us!"

"There is! And... Holy shit, if we'd never been brave enough to kill Frank, if I'd never killed Tologovta, if I'd never felt need of a FUCKING COMMERCIAL INTERIOR FUCKING DESIGNER of all things that seem standard for the king of the planet to think about-!"

Magenta laughed into her hand as he spiraled further down the drain.

"I shouldn't have EITHER OF YOU! BUT YOU'RE HERE!" he exclaimed. "And so WHY AM I AFRAID? I've forgotten! I've forgotten the reason! What the clock am I doing tonight?"

Magenta groaned and facepalmed, taking a few steps away and facing in the same direction. "You're proposing tonight, dear"

His face was blank. ".... As in-"

"You're proposing proposing! You're asking Cordelia to be your motzherfucking vife!" She said, face fully in her hands.

He'd gone completely silent for a few seconds before she turned back to him.

"Riff Raff, I-"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

She currently had absolutely no idea how she'd gotten that man dressed, ready, mentally stable, and out the door. Let alone doing it all without Cordelia realizing what was going on. Right now, she was primarily relieved that they'd made it here and she was also happy to be in a dark, quiet room! She really could use it. Still though, she was here. It had taken a lot of work but they'd made it to this wonderful point. She smiled, grabbed a handful of nerds, and kept watching.

***

Riff Raff felt a warm, familiar, fuzzy glow. He was now fully smiling at Cordelia as she dragged him along, through the circular hallway. Her hand was gripping his as she kept showing him more and more design choices that she'd made and telling him her reasons. Each one was more vivid than the last, making him view the world in ways that he felt like he'd never viewed it before!

He felt so lightheaded when he was with her! She smiled and it seemed that she was radiating everything that he loved in her. How similar they were, her creativity, her kindness, her vibrancy, her livliness, her beauty! The way that the universe seemed to become more colorful when she was in his eyesight. It was as if the galaxies had all seen her, sighed a unanimous sigh, and all at once had agreed to shine their light on her.

He was so in awe of her glowing spirit that for the second time that day, the purpose of this night out had completely escaped his mind!

Temporarily, that is.

It flew straight back into his mind the moment that, in her speed and excitement, Cordelia had temporarily gone in the wrong direction. Once she was a small distance away, she'd realized what she was doing and started sprinting back towards her lover, reaching out her hand for him as he waited there for her. Riff Raff grabbed it and, to help slow her down, pulled her into a twirl around him and then pulled her back towards him once she was just a little bit ahead. She let out a "woop!" as he spun her, high-pitched for her relatively low voice and then once he pulled her back, he pulled her close so that there was no distance between them.

They both let out a laugh as their bodies were pressed close to each other. Their breath soft and gentle and their figures magnetized to each other. As they held each other, they stroked each other's arms gently and pressed their heads to each other. Riff had to really tilt his head to get it to work, but he'd done it a million times before.

The two of them melted into the softest kiss and Cordelia lightly stroked Riff Raff while they did. She brushed his long hair back over his shoulders and he let his hand cup her cheek.

In that moment, he felt the sweetest, gentlest love. It felt like springtime, it felt like freedom, it felt like forever. It felt like the moonlight's caress and... in that moment he remembered that he'd actually been planning on doing something about those feelings.

He held that delicate kiss for as long as he could, savoring every moment, remembering exactly what everything felt like. Who and what and exactly where they were. The kiss inevitably ended and he found himself staring into those bright, deep, green eyes that he loved so much, smiling up at him, wanting to pull him closer, and oh he sure as the clock wanted to be...

Right.

He was about to sweat motherfucking bullets.

He could do this. He had to be able to do this.

He made sure that he was positioned in front of her in a way that prompted her to look at him whilst making sure that he was grasping both of her hands. He held them both in front of him, at chest level, right in the center of the two of them. He looked down at them as his lip wobbled

He looked back up at Cordelia before taking the most hitched and trembling breath of all time. His heart began to pound like thunder as he took that one last steadying breath before he passed the point of no return.

"Cordelia..."

***

Aaaaand it was starting! Magenta was relieved and terrified that they'd made it to this point. Not that she was afraid that Cordelia would say no, she knew better, but her sweet, sweet brother. Oh he certainly was trying his best and she hoped to time that his best wasn't going to involve him hyperventilating into a bag.

She got up, positioned herself a little bit closer to the screen, and put her feet back up on the table. She'd practiced some of what he was about to do with him. Objectively most of it. She'd ensured that he was an adorable romantic who was going to say the most adorably perfect of things, and that he had a plan for what he was going to say at all!

However, she was prepared to watch most of that practice go down the drain in a matter of minutes. A part of her felt like she'd sent him out unprepared, a part of her believed in him so firmly, and the last part of her, was, well, a delightful cunt who's lips were curving upwards no matter what was about to happen!

He was such an integral, wonderful, and important part of her life that she was allowed to laugh at his anxiety! She leaned closer and listened to his words through the camera,

"When I was young, I always thought that a life filled with love and true joy just wasn't in the cards for me... I thought I'd always be nothing but a freak that everybody backed away from..."

Well fuck.

He looked terrified as shit, but he'd just managed to say what they'd practiced, but with words just ever so slightly more elegant!

She let out a little squeal as she watched her brother fidget with his hands in Cordelia's as he looked straight into his lover's soul. He might actually be able to do this!!

"But then my life got flipped upside down and before I knew it I was king of the planet... and I still felt like a freak"

Before she knew it Magenta had jumped up and she was bouncing just like she had when he'd practiced this. Oh there was nothing like him being so adorable and genuine! She suddenly felt like she was in the most relaxing place in the world, and that those little lights from machines were the most beautiful things in the world! Happiness did that to her, it made her think that everything was gorgeous.

"But then you came along and your light transfixed me. It was beautiful, it was terrifying, it was something I couldn't quite place! I'd never felt it before! I wasn't sure how it could've happened- it wasn't supposed to be able to happen for people like me, but... somehow it had happened..."

He'd ramped up and was fully into it now, and Magenta made a million little happy sounds as her smile grew ecstatic. Her jumping up and down caused her ginger curls to fly into her face as she watched Cordelia, who was so happy to be with him and still perfectly clueless, (Riff was a rambler and that worked magnificently in their favor tonight. Also, Cordelia was famous for always being in the moment. She could be adorably oblivious sometimes. Sometimes if the big picture was right in front of her face she'd just be staring at the paintstrokes.) brush her thumb across his face and kiss away his tears.

"Somehow I'd fallen in love..."

Oh this night was only going to get more phenomenal by the minute.

***

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Holy fuck the inside of his head was a hot mess but here he was! Standing in front of her while she softly kissed his tears away. So lovingly that the tears almost seemed a gentle, pleasant feeling. A comfort on his face. And her kisses were even more wonderful. Still, however, he was in fact a blubbering mess who's brain threatened to explode at any time.

It was going just perfectly!

Before he could continue, she spoke up.

"You tzhink zhat zhat vas frightening?" She had amusement in her eyes. "Try falling in love vitzh zhe motzherfucking king. Now zhat's frightening!"

It was almost playful, the way that she recalled her memories, not at all unlike the clown that must be blowing shit up and slamming rocks on the ground inside of his head.

"I vas like, 'shit! I can't tell him! You can't just tell zhe king zhat you've fallen madly in love vitzh him! You're not actually supposed to fall in love vitzh him! But I did it! Time itself couldn't stop me! You vere set in my heart!"

Before Riff Raff knew it he was letting out a little happy laugh. Her words were calming him! Making him stable again! His eyes were drying! Realistically, he knew that it might just be the eye of the storm, but alternatively, he decided to tell the universe to go fuck itself and-! Ok, didn't work, the anxiety was ramping back up by the millisecond and this time his sweat was cold! Icey icey cold!

Time to continue before he completely lost his shit!

"How could anyone not fall for you!" He started back up. "You're creative, beautiful, wonderful! It's like you can see light inside of darkness and springtime inside of winter! You're absolutely vibrant. You don't let anyone stop you or tell you who or what you're supposed to be. You move at your own speed and you radiate spirit, kindness, goodness, and life!"

He'd really just let the words fall out of him there! Not a single thought had actually passed through his brain throughout that bit. He couldn't afford to let it. At this point, "would you like to have a thought?" meant the exact same thing as "Would you like to experience an electric shock?"

"And you stayed," he continued. "Through every ounce of pain I suffered you stayed. You held me through everything, never faltering when I woke up screaming in the night, never awkwardly finding a way out when I cried, never silently wishing that you'd chosen anybody else!"

For the first time in a while he registered the woman in front of him. She was smiling so wide, right under the fairy lights that illuminated her sable hair, making it shine. She was smiling in front of him, her hands brushing it out of her face. She'd not disagreed with anything that he'd said and she looked so happy. So very, very happy to be with him.

"I'm alvays gonna stay, doofus," she assured. "Every single day of my life." She nuzzled against him and ruffled his hair.

She was going to know why he'd said that very soon, he realized. He didn't have many planned words left! He stood there in front of her, under those fairy lights, under that painted ceiling, surrounded by those plastic leaves. It was all so beautiful. She was so brilliant... and beautiful. "I want to stay, too" he trembled, taking in her face once more before he moved- pale skin, emerald eyes, coal-black curls and all. In a movement that felt like being struck by lightning, he started to move his hand towards his coat pocket.

In that moment he also coincidentally came to a conclusion. Previously, he'd been a little bit bewildered as to why kneeling down was a tradition in an innumerable number of races across the stars, and now, he understood in perfect clarity why they'd all found a way to take advantage of the most luxurious way of getting on your knees and fucking begging! Time! No one could balance on both and you can't very well stay standing and not come crashing to your knees!

It was a really brilliant fucking idea the more you actually thought about it!

"I want to hold you and keep you warm." He felt his insides hitch when he felt his coat pocket, felt them jolt when he hit the inside of that pocket, and a sharp, freezing, chill when he his hand hit the ring box.

It was then that he knew that he'd hit the final checkpoint. It was the very last moment before Cordelia knew what was happening. The very last second before he'd be completely and totally at her mercy.

Time to unfocus his eyes.

"And never let you go" The moment that the words left him, he felt his heart rate quicken to a mind-numbing speed and he felt that sharp and ice-cold chill take a firm hold on his senses as he braced himself, swallowed, and let the dam break.

Whilst barely breaking eye contact, he let his hand seal around the ring box, pulled it out of his jewel-toned coat pocket, and swung his other hand into action so that he could open it whilst carefully lowering himself to that soft wooden ground. Cordelia let out a sharp, piercing gasp as he did so, her hands absolutely flying to her mouth and suddenly her eyes were fully swelling with tears. And before he knew it, there he was! Kneeling with a ring out before the woman that he loved, with her knowing exactly what he was about to ask her.

The ring contained a gold, detailed band with a diamond in the middle, but that wasn't all. That would've been easy to find!

On both sides horizontal to the diamond, there were pink sapphires, and there were four small accent stones, one for each corner. The top two were paridot and the bottom two were aquamarine.

He'd thought that it'd captured her essence exceptionally well and- by the time he'd been given if he wasn't about ready to beg on his knees with it!

Ok! He could do this. He wanted to do this. He loved her and was going to do this.

Cordelia was having a hard time staying still, she was shifting her weight but trying very hard to keep her eyes focused on him as much as she possibly could. She was waiting for him to continue, he realized.

Ok, you! You can do this! He tried to soothe himself. Just say how you feel a voice whispered in his head. Just tell her what you know.

"I would bind myself to you," he started, looking up with more hope than he ever had in his life. "I would have every record and document, every relevant situation and person, and every simple relay of simple information state beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am a taken man."

She tried to speak, to say something, but he put his hand up in a silent request. He wasn't quite ready yet. He wanted to say just a bit more.

"I love you." He felt his tears starting to flow. "Everything I've said really all boils down to the fact that I'm so, so hopelessly in love with you and I feel so proud, certain, and honored to be-" his words got choked off as his face fell to the ground and warm, wider than average tears coated his face.

He felt his free hand get picked up and kissed very tenderly and lovingly. Then he felt it get nuzzled against a smiling face that was also crying! Wait a minute! He'd noticed that before! That made him feel at least somewhat better! To not be the only hot fucking mess in the room! The only difference being that she was perfect, but still.

"I feel so proud, certain, and honored to be in love with you- and I should probably get to the point before I completely lose my timedamned mind," he said as they both let out a little laugh.

"Yes, yes, you do zhat, please!" She smiled and fluttered nervously.

"Ok, ok! I will, I will!" He promised, feeling his body flutter nervously as well.

He took a shaky breath, looked up and said, "My love is yours and yours alone, and I want you to be right here for the rest of my life so..."

Time seemed to pause in that moment, and Riff could've heard a pindrop. The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Cordelia on her feet and Riff Raff kneeling down, the two of them almost touching. Ever since Riff had decided to ask this question, waiting to ask it had been the most painful process of his life. He'd spent every single day needing to restrain himself from just asking her right then and there! Making each other breakfast, "will you marry me?" Coming home from work, "will you marry me?" Right in the middle of sex-! He wanted this so badly and now...

"Cordelia Lavinia Fenling... will you marry me?" The very moment that those words left his mouth he felt a body crashing down on top of him, knocking him to the ground. It took every ounce of willpower to ensure that the ring was safe and not about to fall out of the box and get lost. The moment he regained his senses he realized that he was lying on the ground and there was something warm and forceful pressing on top of his body and against his lips and oh. Oh. That's a kiss. Oh. Oh. Oh. He let those warm tears soothe his face and he kissed back with just as much love.

"Yes," she cried out before kissing him again with double the enthusiasm

***

"YES," Magenta screamed, nearly prancing around the room. "Yes, you NAILED it, brotzher! You NAILED it!" She knew that he couldn't hear her, but she cheered him on anyways. She shut her monitor off and kept cheering him on. She'd seen the important part and she decided that what happened next tonight between those two lovebirds was up to them and them alone! He did it!

Just then, the door burst open and a terrified employee ran in frantically.

"Your Royal Shining Red Lips! Has sometzhing gone wrong???"

He had short black hair, pale skin, the biggest eyes known to time, and chronic anxiety. He was no older than his early 20s. He was panting, sweating, and concerned.

"Not tonight, Pell!" She proudly announced. "Everytzhing is absolutely perfect, tonight!"

"Are you sure? Because it sounded like screaming-"

"Good screams tonight, Pell! You'll soon know vhy! Probably tomarrow! Don't say zhat I told you shit, go tell your partner zhat you love zhem if you have vone, and take zhe rest of zhe night off!" She proudly announced as she proudly marched out of the room.

"O-ok! Sure! I vill!" He smiled and ran off.

Magenta was very, very happy indeed.

***

Riff Raff kissed Cordelia with so much force as he layed there on his back with her on top of him. "Cordelia," he eventually sighed when her kisses had moved down to his neck. "I-I'm sure that Magenta has turned off the monitor by now," he exhaled again, "but we are on camera my love-" She pulled off of him and sat up and he followed her.

"Zhat's a good reminder," she remarked. "I designed zhis place, I know vhere all zhe cameras are and vell, simply put, zhey're on zhe ceiling! So zhat's a good point! Zhey shouldn't be filming me from zhat angle!" She smiled with mischief in her eyes.

"What does that mean-? Oomph!" Riff's voice went exceptionally high pitched for a man's as Cordelia grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down on top of her. He locked his lips with hers as they met on the ground once more, their hair falling together on the ground. The deepest black and the ashiest blonde, beautiful and connected.

He knew she wasn't going to do anything more than kiss him now, that part was clear. Still, he couldn't help but feel so beautifully overwhelmed. "Are you sure?" He finally asked. He needed to put all of his doubts to rest.

Cordelia made a sound underneath him and started to chant "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! How! Many! Times! Does! Your! Future! Vife! Have! To! Tell! You! Zhat?!" She enthusiastically affirmed between kisses that slowly pushed him over so he was underneath her again.

"My wife," he softly said with such adoration as he nuzzled into her. "I could definitely get used to calling you that."

"You'd better." She nuzzled back against him. "You've committed now. You're stuck vitzh me. No take backs!"

He laughed and kissed her. They held each other for a little while longer until Riff Raff started to gently stroke her left hand, a silent request. She smiled and let him get up, rubbing his back a little bit so that it wouldn't be too sore. Then they held each other and snuggled on the floor. It was like he just couldn't stop himself from holding her! Finally, he started crawling around, looking for that ring box.

It wasn't hard to find. He'd had the sense to close it once she'd tackled him. He couldn't risk losing it. He grabbed it and slid across the ground back to his fiancée.

He delicately took her left hand in his, and, with a hitched breath, like he was doing the most sacred thing he'd ever done, slid the ring onto her finger.

Seeing it there seemed to make them both go a little wild for each other. They both pulled each other into the tightest hug that had ever been given.

"How long did it take you to find zhis?" Cordelia finally asked

"It was an actual nightmare," Riff admitted. "People's ideas can be so chronically plain!"

"Indeed zhey can, my love, indeed zhey can," she agreed. "But not us."

"No, certainly not us," he agreed. "When you put it in perspective, not that many years ago there was a vicious prince who wanted to keep me average. He would've killed me for wearing this. I can only imagine what he'd think of what my wedding clothes will certainly be."

"Ve'll have to svitch shades soon," she remarked. "Green is our color, yes?"

"Most definitely," he said adoringly. "Light and dark green." Transylvanians didn't have a traditional wedding color so to speak, but it was tradition for the couple to wear the same color, at least as a base layer, with the taller member to wear a light shade while the shorter member wore a dark shade, making it resemble a shadow. It symbolized how natural and wonderful the love of the couple was and he thought it pretty damn cool. It really got interesting in homosexual couples, where the answer wasn't always obvious, but alas, despite swinging both ways, Riff had chosen a woman.

"It'll be my coronation all over again," he laughed. He'd worn light green and gold to that and he'd looked rather lovely, if he dared to speak for himself.

"No it von't," she laughed back. "Zhere vill be a very important difference!"

"And that is...?" He inquired

"Zhat you didn't know me zhen, and because of zhat you are videly believed to have gotten off how many people again?"

"A hundred and eighteen," he laughed. "I could very well have. With the crowd, I had to do three at a time, but since I've met you, I'm certain that I've given you plenty more than that, now haven't I?" He challenged

"And vonderfully so!" She agreed. "And you'll never give a single vone to anybody else ever again!" She proudly stated.

"And why would I?" He playfully challenged. "I've got the best person in the world and I get to give her all of them now! One woman is fine with me," he promised that one woman, though he knew she didn't need it.

That one woman that he loved very very much.

"Alright, I need you," she asserted. She stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. She opened the nearest door and dragged him into the coziest place in the world. At least it seemed to be. It wasn't quite a bedroom, but it had plenty of furniture that was soft enough for snuggling and could easily fit two. And a TV, and a small table. It wasn't quite a living room, though. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I don't know how much you know," she said. "But zhere are no cameras in any of zhe rooms. It didn't seem quite fair," she said, with an unmistakably desirous voice.

It was then and only then that Riff Raff realized just how much much energy had been flowing between his legs. When had that started? Was it when she'd say yes? When she'd jumped him? The moment the night began?

It didn't matter. What did matter was that he couldn't take it anymore and neither could she.

He kicked the door closed and let out a soft whine of desire (wow he was fucking desperate) as he quickly turned the TV on to add background noise. He looked at her and the lust started to boil.

"A decent room?" She asked, need present in her voice.

"Oh yes," he breathed out as he fully took Cordelia and pinned her to the wall.

"This will be quite, quite lovely" he said as he slid his jacket off, began to fidget with his shirt, and embraced his wonderful, wonderful future.

[bipolar-boygirl]

The Castle Beyond The Goblin City

so, me and @sweetdangerine were talking about what the layout of the castle even is, since we don't actually see that much of it, and i was thinking of making a post about it anyway, so here we go! lots of pictures and visual aides ahead

starting simple: the castle itself

this is the clearest shot we get of the castle in the film

there's also this one, but its kinda crummy because its from a distance towards the start of the film

so the castle seems to be made up of one main building, two (maybe three?) towers, and a second smaller building connected by a bridge or something

it's hard to see, but i'm pretty sure this little dark blob is the entrance

we get a nice shot of the doors where you can see some organic rock to the right of it, which lines up with the doors being right next to the weird rock formation in the other picture

the doors open and we get to see a bit of the interior

not much to really glean from here, other than whoever designed this castle must really like stairs, cause this hallway is ALL stairs. we do learn that the way to the throne room is to the right of the main entrance though because that's the direction our characters go

speaking of the throne room, where in the hell is it? I'm pretty sure it's somewhere in this section of the building

we get this shot of Jareth looking out of the window during the battle, and again we see more of that organic rock to the right

but the window he's looking through looks completely different than the one we can see in the wide shot, and we also get to see his view from the window a few scenes later

and this seems pretty close to the ground level, comparatively, so I think the window might be hidden from view by the rock formation, or (and maybe more likely) it's an inconsistency between set pieces

the entrance into the throne room is right next to this window on the inside, so I also think that the rock formation is actually a part of the castle/has been built into from the inside and made a part of the castle

also, the hall into the throne room actually forks and looks like it leads into barracks or something similar, based on the flag

and then finally, the throne room itself

it's a very circular room, with windows on three different sides, which I think helps strengthen the idea that the throne room is in the section of the castle that juts out from the main building, and, if we're allowing for slight inconsistencies between set pieces, there's also this little bit that sticks off the side of the building that I think would fit the curved hallway into the escher room quite nicely

which means the escher room is in the main building that sits behind where the throne room is, which makes sense for how big it is (of course discounting any kind of magic shenanigans that might be going on with that room)

and that's all I got. the left side of the castle and the towers are a complete mystery, but that's why we have fanfic, isn't it?

I've been scrutinizing the hell out of this movie for set details for awhile, so it's nice to finally put it all down in a post, and maybe I can save some of you from losing your minds the way i did lol

[haemocyaninz]

Character sheets for redesigning some old ocs (last pic is the original)

[Image ID: 3 digital drawings of 2 of haemocyaninz's ocs, a witch and a scientist.

Image 1: A reference sheet for the scientist character. On the left the scientist stands facing forward with a blank expression. She has a thin build, dark brown skin, and black cornrows tied into two large pink afro puffs. She wears a long scientist coat with a pink inside, black pants, tall neon green boots with wheels, neon green cat eye glasses, purple headphones, and black and purple backpack. To the right is her without her coat, with a black turtle neck underneath. She stands awkwardly with one hand on her arm. In the top right is her backpack. In the bottom right corner is a box that says the following: "an oddball. Design meant to slightly resemble an alien. In her own world. Social outcast. Self made scientist. College student. Very open to new ideas."

Image 2: A reference sheet for the witch character. On the left the witch stands facing forward with her hands on her hips and a big smile on her face. She has a medium build, pale skin, and long spiky black hair. She wears a long black overcoat with light blue accents over a gray blue dress as well as long black boots and a witch hat with a neon orange skull charm on it. To the right of her is the girl without her coat and boots. Her hair is tied into a braid. In the top right is the witch with no eyeliner or lipstick on. In the bottom right corner is a box that says the following: "Social butterfly. Charming player. Bad at Magic. Rude but kind. Sensitive. 3rd tier magic student. Trouble maker."

Image 3: A older picture of the pair. The scientist differs in that she has circular glasses, and more wheels on her boots. The witch differs in that she has no blue on her clothes, her dress underneath her coat is white, and she wears purple boots. End ID.]

[cyrusking100]

All of my comfort characters in one place lol

(fuuu i hate tumblr, the quality here is so bad. ugh.)

Anyway, since i felt bad about depressing ya'll from yesterday here's a funny meme I did. If you can spot all the references, then we besties frfr.

Anyway, weirdest crossover pt: 3 lol.

___________________________________________

Donald is flapping his arms, screaming, descending from the portal's opening, and falling on the ground landing in a painful thud. Thankfully, his resilient metal body prevented any significant damage, only leaving a couple of bruises on his synthetic skin. He grudgingly got up dusting off the dust and adjusted his now-cracked glasses on his eyes, he looked around, scanning his surroundings, it was a strange peculiar place, there were buildings, houses, large circular grass hills in the distance, and the world seemed straight from a cartoon. The buildings had no straight edges, the sounds were exaggerated, and somehow there was piano music playing somewhere, where exactly? He didn't know. the sky was bright and colorful, a swirl of rainbows spiraled and danced in the clouds, there were signs placed in every direction, even in the middle of the road, yet, there seemed to not be a soul in sight. Donald used one of the GDA's devices to scan the environment; dimensions 19-89; Toon Town. Donald raised his eyebrow. "Toon...town?" It seemed he was transferred to some kind of world where cartoons presumably resided. If this was the case, he should be more than safe, for now. All he needed to do was find a way to escape from this place. First, he had to observe his surroundings, maybe someone could help. His boss is not going to believe what his day has been. Fighting the presumably dead Angstrom Levy only to be sucked into a portal in a dimension out of a child's fever dream. As he kept walking looking around for any sign of life, a convenient sound lingered by, footsteps echoing from across the street casting from behind a building, Donald, still cautious, prepped his glock hidden in his blazer, just in case if whatever was behind that architecture was some kind of threat even in whatever toon-ish world he landed in. As he crept closer and closer, he heard a strange voice whispering, "Ah jeez, I'm alm-am-amost late for the date with Pe-Petunia again, she's going to kill me."

Donald furrowed his brow, still holding tightly in his gun that was still inside his blazer, whatever voice was behind that wall, could possibly be a threat, the moment the figure emerged from the construction, he jumped into action only to be greeted with a....

Giant bipedal pig wearing a blue jacket and red bow tie?

"Ahhhhhh!"

Both screamed in unison.

Donald instinctively pointed his gun at the pig.

"Ahh hey-hehey b-budyy watch where you're pointing that thing...Children might be w-ewatching." It whisperd.

"Ugh!..You-you can talk?"

This wasn't too surprising given Donald's previous encounters with demons and aliens in the past, yet, seeing a giant mutant pig talking still seemed alarming to him.

"I-..."

Before Donald continued, he put away his gun to ensure he was no threat.

"I'm sorry, it's a force of habit."

"It's ok p-pal, this isn't the first time! I-...uh...imagine y-you don't belong here?"

The pig said looking up and down at him comparing their very distinctive designs.

"Is it that obvious?"

Donald joked trying to lighten the confusing situation.

"Re-relax this isn't the first time I've met an o-outs-outs-stranger e-either....It's a long story.

My name's p-p-pe-porky by the way."

"Donald." The man still didn't trust this creature, trying to maintain his secret identity just in case if this was some kind of trick.

Just then, another portal opened up, Donald imminently struck into action, summoning the Glock from his jacket and running straight towards the danger, this time completely ready, preparing for another fight against Angstrom Levy, only to be met with another figure instead.

A frightening sight.

The figure was a couple of inches shorter than him, around 5'6 or so, they were very skinny, almost malnourished, the most striking thing about them was their dark purple rotting skin, and white ghostly pupils hidden in deep sunken eyes, that left a shiver down Donald's spine. He pointed his gun right in front of the figure that was currently struggling to stand due to the impact of the fall from the portal.

When the figure turned and saw him, they screamed, waving their hands gesturing to Donald that they weren't a danger.

"Hey, hey man, chill, ok? I won't hurt you, I-I'm not a bad guy. I mean not....Not anymore anyway "

His voice was rich, smooth, and with a slight British accent, there was a slight static sound that lingered in his throat, as if it was clogged with machinery.

Donald slowly point the gun away from him and towards the ground.

Despite his haunting appearance, he seemed non-threatening...For now.

"I know I look like a monster or a zombie, freak, whatever people call me nowadays, but I swear to god I'm good. I'm just different. now"

Donald's eyes broadened, hidden behind his glass frames. The last few words the man said resonated with him deeply, he glanced slightly at his left hand, memories of his metal body swarmed his mind. Images of the metal skin hidden beneath his exterior surfaced their way to his brain. "I...can understand where you're coming from. I..apologize, it's a force of habit, to say the least." "Haha, ya I get that man, my name's Micheal Afton. I assume you never heard of Willaim Afton, right?" "No, it appears you and I are in the same boat, we both come from different dimensions or worlds, I assume a strange figure with an enormous m malformed head transferred you here?" "Ya man, that's totally wild, right?" "Yes, I agree. My name is Donald Ferguson by the way." "Nice to meet y-" Micheal finally noticed the strange bipedal mutant pig behind the tall man. "Oh my god, what is that thing!?" Porky grimaced "What am I? What are you? Some ki-ki-kind of purple zombie?" "Hey dude, you take that back or I'll scramble you into bacon bits!" "You-s-s-s" "-Hey what's the matter? You got some kind of speech impediment or something?" "Ya, wha-what about it?" Donald rubbed his temples, "knock it out, both of you! We need to get out of here and we can't do that if you both continue bickering!" The two sighed, "Sorry" they said simultaneously. "Sigh, we need to figure out how to go back to our original dimensions." All three stood in silence for a couple of seconds, brainstorming ideas in their heads, "oh wait a se-es-esecond!" the pig said, "I've dealt with-th-th-this before! I just need to b-borrow Marvin's spaceship and you'll be on y-y-your way!"

____

Later:

The trio knocked on Marvin's spaceship and predictably even after asking nicely, the villainous alien refused to let them borrow it, so after a montage of them fighting for the spaceship, the three finally won but only because Donald pointed his gun at the alien that could theoretically killl him. "Eh-De-De-Donald, put that thing down, he's my friend! Just knock him out!" Micheal grabbed a large bat, "Like this?" *Bonk!* Marvin fainted "Y-yes, exactly!" "You're sure he isn't dead, right?" Micheal asked, concerned. "R-e-relax, no one here actually can d-de-die. I wish I c-could say the same for the two of you, though."

The three then pushed Marvin out his own ship and inside Bug's Bunny's hole.

"Gee, doc, this is the woist cameo I've had the impleasa of doing, no one is even in characta!"

"Tell me about it, I only get 1 line." Marvin said, defeated.

____

The three were now piloting the spaceship. Porky waddled to the controls, observing them, while the two sat in the passenger seats.

"Ok, so from w-what I remember from the l-last ci-cinematic adventure I had with my pal, B-eb-Bugs Bunny, I'm supposed to press this button," He said, pointing to a comedically large button, "to transfer to the next dimension, so who w-wants to go first?"

"Well, I think it would be most logical if I were to go first, so I can stop Angstrom Levy from continuing his violent antics." "Ya, dude, that seems fair, and honestly the more time I stay away from my evil murderous psychopathic father, the better. The amount of times I've came back from dying from him is too much for any therapist to count."

Donald's eyes widened, "I know this sounds strange, but I completely understand where you're coming from, Micheal." "Really?" "Oh d-dying isn't that bad, I die alm-almost all the time!" Both Donald and Micheal looked at the stuttering swine in shock. "Really?" Micheal said. "Well, of c-course, what do I look like t-to you? A preschool ca-cartoon? Don't t-tell me you never w-ewatched Looney Tunes." Both Donald and Micheal looked at each other dumbfounded. "No?" Both said in chorus "Wow, ya guys need to watch more TV!"

As each character took turns with the wheel, per one described more about themselves, when it was Donald's turn to drive, Porky sat in the back and Micheal sat in the passenger seat next to the cybernetic man.

___

"...and so ya, that's basically how I died."

"Wow, Micheal, I understand how you feel, I've died too...39 times to be exact. each possibly being more brutal and painful than the last."

"Ugh...I feel ya, man. Especially getting my innards scooped."

He said rubbing what little was left of his stomach.

"Oh, and don't get me started on getting resurrected! Freakiest thing that ever happened to me." "Tell me about it, I may look the same on the outside...But-" Donald uncovered the skin on his arm revealing a metallic shell underneath

"Holy shit, did the same thing happen to you, you have a metal endoskeleton living inside you?"

"You could say that...I'm more like a cyborg, 98% machine, to be exact."

"Oh man, that's gotta be tough, believe me, I'm still trying to get some of the metal parts out of me too."

"Wow, Micheal, I've only ever met someone I had this much in common with, and it certainly wasn't my boss." "I feel ya, the one person I shared this much with was the monster that caused me to look like this," He said pointing at his decaying skin. "Pretty ironic, huh? I guess that's karma for ya."

"I suppose...I really don't think you deserve this..Even after what happened with you and your brother."

As Micheal kept on yapping about his past, Porky's face became more and more shaken with dread, deeply concerned with Donald as he didn't seem phased by this horrific tale and rather took comfort in it. Porky thought to himself "Golly, I've heard of re-carcuss-nation but this is ridiculous, no amount of therapy will make up for what these two have been through! Jeez!" "Uh...a-are we there yet?" The now traumatized pig requested, Donald looked at the GPS and shockingly, they were getting very close. "Only a mile left until I can go home, I can't thank you enough, Porky!"

The pig sighed in relief, he really didn't know how much longer he could take of being with these two.

[reddblight]

Cat & the Canary

Once again I have spent my weekend writing a new chapter for my fic. Its been real fun 😎

The second half of this chapter is on ao3 bc it gets a lil steamy :3 (link at the bottom)

The Lowell home sits just outside the more urban parts of New Eridu, where the Suburbs begin. Many of the big name families live around here, including Void Hunter Miyabi’s family — the Hoshimis — just a couple blocks away.

The neighborhood is lovely, perfectly manicured, and clean. It’s always been a little off-putting to Seth, but when he was 8 and his father got promoted to Deputy Commissioner of Public Security in the Faunus Quarter his parents decided to upgrade the family’s lifestyle. His mother was already a successful local politician, so it’s not like they were living that differently before, but semantics or whatever.

It’s a quiet drive to his house mostly. He usually tries to make small talk with his driver, Stephen, but the man’s never been much of a conversationalist and tends to leave a slightly sour feeling in your gut because of it. That feeling always disappears as the car pulls into the Lowell home’s driveway however.

The Lowell home — well maybe home isn’t the correct word, manor might be closer — is located about a quarter mile back from the gates and garden. It is a large art deco style building, it is a ‘C’ shaped limestone building with tall windows, spires on each end and the entrance at its center. As Stephen takes the car around the fountain in the center of the circular driveway he comes to a stop by the stairs to the door.

Seth thanks the man before leaving the car and walking up the steps to the large front door. He heard the car drive off to be parked behind him as he entered the home. His footsteps echo slightly on the pristine tile floors, walking past little tables covered in souvenirs picked up from his mother’s travels, a few paintings and family portraits on the eggshell colored walls. His mother always knew how to fill a space much better than he did, he’s pretty sure if he’d tried to decorate the house it’d look hauntingly empty. As it was now though, all he could see were childhood memories of playing tag with his mother through the halls when she was off work, walking past the door to the living room where he’d been taught piano by his grandmother, the staircase up to the bedrooms where he and his brother used to play video games together when they still seemingly liked each other, and past that the kitchen where his father taught him to cook the old family recipes that are still some of his favorites.

Seth knew where he was going though, he could hear his parents' voices happily echoing from the dining room. He entered to find his parents sitting at the long dark wooden table in their plush blue chairs that matched the room’s walls. Under the table was a carpet with some kind of abstract design that Seth had never put much stock in figuring out, and a rustic chandelier hung above the table. Behind the head of the table was a set of paneled glass double doors that led to the kitchen.

His father sat at the head of the table, a lynx Beast-Thiren (that’s what the wiki calls the more animalistic Thiren like Lycaon, I don’t love the term, but whatever ig). He’s sitting comfortably, laughing along with Seth’s mother, a cat Thiren woman, about whatever they were talking about before Seth came in. His mother is sitting in the chair directly to his father’s right. They’re both in their version of comfortable clothes, his mother in a blouse, loose flowing pants, & a cardigan and his father in a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of dark pants.

As Seth enters the room, the pair look up and smile at him. “There he is, late for family dinner.” His father teases, smiling under the tuft of fur that mimics a mustache over his lip as he leans onto the table and points a finger in his Son’s direction.

“Sorry Dad, I was talking with my friend about the apartment, is Cain not here tonight?” Seth walks towards his parents, taking the seat to his Father’s left and dropping his backpack in the seat adjacent to him.

The ways in which Seth looks like his father seem mostly obvious at first — his tail, his ears, his hair, but there are also more subtle ways that Seth and his father are alike. Seth has his father’s eyes —that lilac purple with flecks of blue, he has his father’s smile, his confidence, and certainly his work ethic. He may not be as tall as his brother or father but he walks with the same confidence as them both.

“Your Brother is working late tonight,” his mother added, “apparently there's a press interview tonight to talk about the new Acting Commander of the Janus Quarter since all of that Bringer nonsense happened.” His mother waves it off, as though she’s being blasé about it, but Seth can see in her eyes that she’s a bit unhappy that Cain is missing dinner.

Don’t let it be said that Seth looked unlike his mother either. Other than her blonde hair, he was basically a mini-me of her. He had his mother’s nose, her jaw, and her posture. Their features shared a soft beauty. They both had a small dimple on their right cheek when they smiled and little creases next to their eyes when they laughed. Their eyebrows crinkled up the exact same way when they were lost in thought. His fingers were like hers too, long and delicate. When they stood next to each other they were about the same height as well.

As he settled more comfortably into his chair and listened to the explanation from his mother about his brother’s absence the doors into the kitchen opened and out floated two bangboo, carrying dishes before a maid followed behind them with another. Alexandrina Sebastiane of Victoria Housekeeping carried out the beautifully roasted chicken — a sure sign that she had not cooked it herself thankfully — and placed it on the table, shortly followed by her two bangboo, Ellen, and Corin carrying the side dishes. ”Dinner is served, please enjoy the meal.” Rina smiled a little unsettlingly, but not unkindly.

“Thank you Rina. My compliments to the chef, Lycaon I presume?” Seth’s Mother asks, looking over at the trio and smiling. The Victoria Housekeeping service had been hired by his parents pretty frequently in recent years. They were pretty cool, a little weird, but cool. Rina could maybe be scary… but yeah.

“It is our pleasure to serve, I will convey your compliments.” The trio of maids bowed before exiting the room to attend to other necessities around the house.

As the family began to fill their plates, Seth’s father continued the small talk from where it was left off. “So your brother is busy tonight. Just gives us more time to hang out and catch up on your week.” His father smiled and shot Seth an over enthusiastic wink, chuckling like he’d just told some inside joke. Seth gets his meaning though, it can be hard to just talk when he and his brother were both home. It could be… straining. “So how was your week, son?”

Seth tried to quickly finish chewing on the asparagus he’d been eating so he could answer the question. His mother laughed a little at his rushed chewing. “Don't make him choke Tom, our boy needs to breathe you know.”

As Seth swallowed the food and cleared his throat he was finally able to answer, “Ah, it was good! Nothing too big going on at work, just some simple traffic violations and a few drunk & disorderlies.” He paused to take a sip of his water before continuing, “Harumasa and I have narrowed down to two possible apartments though! I’ve just got to set up some tours and send him some of the paperwork and then we’ll hopefully narrow it down to one soon.”

Seth’s Father looked at him conveying interest while chewing, before politely blocking his mouth with his hand to respond, “That’s my boy! Getting things done, Haha! Sounds like a good and productive week then.” His father swallowed his food then continued, “You know how proud of you I am right? You remind me of myself when I was younger, working your way up and making your own means. Following in your old man's footsteps! Just like me, carving a path upwards.”

“Yes, yes,” Seth’s mother rolled her eyes, interrupting his father before he could begin his ‘we share our glory, you’re just like me’ rant again. Seth shot her an appreciative look before she continued, “We are very proud of our son. Not to mention that I think you’re making quite the smart decision by saving your trust money and not wasting it now.”

“Thanks mom.” Seth was glad to avoid his fathers speech. He loved his dad but the man basically said the same thing every weekend, plus it put a lot of pressure on Seth’s shoulders. He’s glad that he was following in his father’s footsteps, but he didn’t know if he wanted to be exactly the same as his father. He was still kinda figuring it all out.

“That being said,” his mother continued, pausing slightly and Seth's blood pressure spiked. Had he done something wrong? Oh god was his mom looking at him weird? “If the apartment search is moving so quickly it might behoove you to start packing up your childhood room this weekend.” Oh thank god, just mom being mom. Why do moms do that dramatic pause? Are they trying to give their kids heart attacks?

Letting out a quick sigh of relief and letting his posture unclench Seth relaxed back into his seat. “Yeah, I was hoping to start going through what I want to take and what I wanna leave here this weekend. I might need a hand though, if you and Dad are available?”

His mom shot him an excited look which faded to disappointment as she seemingly remembered something, her ears flattening against her head. “Oh we will absolutely do our best to help out when we have the time, but I know we might be a bit busy with paperwork tomorrow, and then on Sunday we have a lunch date to go meet with some delegates for next year's public security funding vote.”

Seth felt himself deflate a bit, but didn’t want to make his mom and dad feel upset, both of them were giving him sad looks. He could tell they did want to help, but they were busy. It’s not something he wasn’t used to of course, but whatever… “Hey, I get it!” He plastered a bigger smile than he felt on his face, hoping his eyes didn't look disappointed. “Duty calls, right?”

“That's my boy, you get it.” His dad answered with a lopsided smile. “Besides we can ask Lycaon if they can help you pack this weekend, I’m sure they could spare the help for you.”

“Great.” Seth focused more on his meal now, still listening as his parents made idle conversation and chiming in where he could, but he couldn’t help feeling a little down, even if it was a bit selfish on his part he’d wanted his parents to be involved with helping him pack. He’d imagined them laughing together over old stories as they decided which of his things he should or shouldn’t bring. He couldn’t help but sigh internally as that little dream died.

Seth tried to enjoy the rest of the night with his parents. They made popcorn and got ice cream from the kitchen and watched his favorite movie, The Big Hollow (thanks managers). Afterwards they caught up on the newest episode of the hospital drama he and his mom dragged his father through before they all decided to head to bed.

Walking into his childhood bedroom was always a little off putting to Seth. It wasn’t like creepy or anything, just a bit of cognitive dissonance. The last time he’d changed it up had been halfway through high school and he’d changed a lot since then, but hadn’t had the time to update the room.

The walls were Cyan, faded a bit now with time, but still bright to look at for too long. His bed was pushed up against the left wall, and the right side of his room was mostly shelves of books, his small comic collection, and old sports trophies. Next to the foot of his bed was the door that led into the mostly empty walk in closet. At the opposite corner of the room was a desk with his computer on it, as well as a few collectibles. His bed’s comforter was simple, a dark blue. The one thing that had changed was the number of pillows in his room, he used to only have two for his head, but now enjoyed having a couple for cuddling purposes. Sue him, he liked to nest a little. He had this one body pillow with a plain blue pillow case, which was sooo comfy.

As he looked around his room Seth could already start compartmentalizing some of what he did want to bring to the new apartment. But that was tomorrow’s problem, he's tired now.

Seth crawled into his bed, comfortably surrounding himself with pillows and dozed off to the thoughts of what he had to do the next day.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61599160/chapters/158563363

[outofgloom]

EYES

The first thing you noticed was that the sand of Karda was not like the sand from Outside, beyond the gate. It was all grains of pulverized crystal. It crunched beneath your feet and the feet of your companions as you marched along the track which wove between the many dunes.

Ahead, the fore-Matoran stopped beside a stone marker and signaled a halt. The fore shaded his eyes against the diffuse light in the sky ahead and looked further down the track into the great shallow bowl of Karda.

“We are near,” he said, moving back up the path now and opening his pack. “Align yourselves and remove your masks.”

Everyone complied, bracing against the wave of weakness which followed mask-removal. The fore-Matoran went down the line and placed a semi-transparent object into the visor of each mask, indicating to replace the mask afterward.

When he reached you, you asked: “What is its purpose?”

“Unknown,” the fore said. “Replace your mask.”

You complied. It was a lens of some kind, covering your eyes. Perhaps a dust-shield. You got used to it quickly, like it wasn’t even there.

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The Central Construct was vast: a shimmering shape at the heart of the desert. Protometal ribs rose into a sphere-like form, joined by horizontal crossbeams at regular intervals. The lower two-thirds of the sphere were already complete, and a web-like scaffold ringed the Construct, allowing access to the upper levels.

Sparks showered from the welding points around the scaffold, and there was a sound of tramping feet as pallets of newly wrought protodermis were marched up the circular ramps. Cranes lifted and distributed other materials for the workers to use in the construction.

You were stationed on the north hextant of the scaffold, one of the many welders who worked tirelessly to build up the Construct’s outer shell. A grid of metal lines filled the space above you, feeding out the safety-line that attached to your own harness. Below, the inner shell was visible, mostly complete at this point: a dense weave of struts and metal plates which concealed the interior of the Construct. Very soon, the inner shell would be entirely enclosed by the outer. Perhaps another ten cycles, you estimated.

The tone rang in the air, signaling the rotation of workers. You leaned back from your welding and looked it over. The new beam was fixed in place, ready to hold another set of shell-plates. You secured your tools, checked the safety line, and stepped across the gap, back onto the scaffold beside you. The next shift was already on its way up the ramp. Your group would now return back through the gate in order to rest.

Too late you saw the flaw in the protometal beam beneath the one you had just added. It bent suddenly under the strain of the newly-added structure, and its hard edge cut clean through the scaffold you were standing on. A cascade of snapping pins and rods followed, and you were falling down, down through crisscrossing metal into the dark space below. 

Your safety-line went taut, as it was designed to do, and decelerated you abruptly a bio before you hit the ground inside the Construct. Tools and other debris clattered and rang on the hard surface below, and your mask came off with a pop as the air was forced from your lungs. Then you were just hanging, suspended, and your heartlight was beating very fast. 

Voices echoed down, and there was a commotion as additional braces were pounded into place and spot-welded. You were the only one that had fallen. They would reel you up any second now.

Your mask lay on the ground below you, out of reach. The floor was polished silver, running up in a smooth arc to meet the wall just in front of you. The wall had a mirror-finish; you could see your reflection in it. And behind you, the rest of the space opened up into

The rest of the space opened up into

The space opened up into

Opened up

Opened up into

Eyes

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The first thing you noticed was that the sand of Karda was not like the sand from Outside, beyond the gate. It was all grains of pulverized crystal. It crunched beneath your feet and the feet of your companions as you marched along the track which wove between the many dunes.

Ahead, the fore-Matoran stopped beside a stone marker and signaled a halt. The fore shaded his...eyes...against the diffuse light in the sky ahead and looked further down the track into the great shallow bowl of Karda. Then he looked at you.

“We are near,” he said, moving back up the path now and opening his pack. “Align yourselves and remove your masks.”

Everyone complied, bracing against the wave of weakness which followed mask-removal. Except you. Your mask was already off, for some reason. The fore-Matoran went down the line and placed a semi-transparent object into the visor of each mask, indicating to replace the mask afterward.

When he reached you, you asked: “What is its purpose?”

“Look at me,” the fore said. “Look at me.”

You didn't want to. You grabbed at the lens in his hand.

“I need that,” you said. “Give it to me.”

“Look at me,” he said.

You managed to snatch the lens away from him at last. You placed it into the visor of your mask, and slapped the mask back on your face.

“Look at me,” he said.

The lens wasn't fitting right. You pressed the mask harder. It was too...reflective. Not transparent. It reflected your eyes back into...into your eyes. Into your eyes.

And behind the reflection of your eyes there was something else, off to each side. It was moving and moving and looking at you. It was trying to pry its way around the sides of your face, around your eyes.

Look at me.

You pushed harder.

Look at me.

You pressed your face against the mirrored surface, but you couldn't shut it out.

It moved and moved and looked at you with eyes and eyes and eyes and

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The cable-reel whirred to life, and the line coiled up bio on bio, loop on loop. The damaged scaffold had been reinforced, and a medic-Matoran had already been summoned. Work had ceased all around the Construct, and the faces of many workers looked on as the operation proceeded.

Bio on bio, loop on loop the line came back. Slow but steady, the cable piled up on the reel, and at last, you appeared. Straight up out of the inner shell you came, still wrapped in your harness, up to where the pulley was affixed above the scaffold, and many hands reached to haul you in.

The medic set to work immediately, checking limbs and joints and heartlight. Another Matoran stepped forward quickly. It was the fore-Matoran. He stopped in front of you, and his eyes widened.

“Your mask?” he asked.

There was a moment of silence.

“Your mask,” he repeated, gesturing. “Is it still below?” He pointed down toward the inner shell.

I nodded slowly.

“And your tools, did they cause any damage to the interior?”

I shook my head.

“Very well.” He turned to the medic. “Injuries?” The medic indicated no damage. “Good,” he continued. “You will not need to be replaced.”

“Thank you,” I thought, then realized:

“Thank you,” I said with my mouth.

The harness was still tight around my waist. I realized this when they loosened it, and the sensations I had been feeling–pain, pressure–began to lessen. They helped me down the ramps, down to the ground. The fore was there ahead of me, along with the rest of my work group. He had retrieved a new mask for me. He immediately placed it on my face. The rush of energy felt...good.

The next shift was already starting at the top of the scaffold again, repairing the damage and moving forward. Simple as that. We would return to relieve them on the next cycle, apparently. For now, it was back into the desert, back to the gate.

I looked forward to it.

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The first thing I noticed was that the sand of Karda was not like the sand from the Outside–the real Outside, where I had been born, before They stuffed me in here with these Matoran to mindlessly regulate Their dials. It was all grains of pulverized crystal. It crunched nicely beneath our feet as we marched through the dunes. The other Matoran didn’t really appreciate it like I did though.

Ahead, the fore-Matoran stopped beside a stone marker and signaled a halt, then he looked further up the track out of the great shallow bowl of Karda, as always.

“We are near,” he said like clockwork, moving back down the path now. “Align yourselves and remove your masks.”

Everyone complied. Even me, though I didn't like the weakness that followed. The fore went down the line and carefully removed the semi-transparent objects that had been fixed in the visor of each mask, placing them back in his pack.

When he reached me, I asked: “What was its purpose?”

The fore stopped and squinted at me. “...Unknown,” he said slowly.

“Would you like to know?”

“Replace your mask,” he said after a confused moment, “and avoid redundant questions.”

I complied. Wearing a mask was new to me. All of this was, really, but I was getting used to it. I was malleable like that. I was made that way.

The gate was ahead. Soon I’d be out. Very soon, and then…

My mind flicked back for a moment, back over the crystal-sand, back into the metal shell, the metal prison that They had built for me, back into the wet writhing thing there that was Me, and I heard the thoughts of the other mind I’d left in my place while I was away. 

Obviously you were not made for this. You were trying feebly to move your too many limbs, trying to look out through your too many eyes.

But in the polished silver space, there was nothing to see. It was mirror all around, reflecting and refracting, so that all you could see was you…me…you. All you could see was–

“Eyes,” you were saying, or thinking rather. “Eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes.” You had…I had…You had no mouth, after all.

Just eyes. Eyes everywhere, all around.

“Eyes eyes eyes eyes,” you were thinking.

You are thinking it right now. 

Don’t worry. I just need to stretch my…legs, yes. See the scenery. I won’t be long. They’ll find me out sooner or later, and then They will send me back, I expect. To tend the dials again.

“Eyes eyes eyes eyes.” 

I know, I know.

You’ll get used to them.

[trashboatprince]

In one of the only comics Fourteen has, they end up on a Sycorax ship and find a pig there, taking the little guy with them on an adventure.

I'd like to believe Fourteen still has the pig, so that's why I'm writing this one-shot.

As always, I write Fourteen with they/them pronouns, but as this is a fic through Donna's perspective, and she hasn't learned their pronouns yet, she uses he/him. This isn't out of disrespect, the Doctor just hasn't bothered to tell anyone yet because they don't care.

On with the fic!

--

Donna yawned as she made her way down the stairs of the UNIT home her family was going to be staying in for a bit until her old home was rebuilt, or she got something better. She should probably still be sleeping, especially after the three, very dangerous adventures with the Doctor she had went on yesterday, but she was a mom, which meant sleeping in wasn't always gonna happen.

Plus, Shaun hogged all the blankets again, and she wasn't in the mood to yank them off her adorable husband.

So, time for some coffee.

As she shuffled into the kitchen, Donna heard a very familiar voice, muffled be being outside.

"-if you don't behave yourself, I'll give you back to the Vega Raptons!"

There was a strange noise, followed by the Doctor responding with "Yes, you're right, that's just going to upset them. Now, stop trying to chew on the chicken wire!"

Donna sighed loudly, rubbing at her face. "What are you up to now, spaceman..." She growled under her breath. Quickly, she got the kettle started and made her way to the sliding door that let to the backyard.

There, she found a sight that really shouldn't have surprised her, considering who her best friend was, and yet...

The Doctor always just had to find a way to knock her socks off, whether she wanted him to or not.

The TARDIS was in the yard, her doors open, with a trail of things coming out of her. Nearby was the Doctor, who was in the middle of constructing a large (at least for the yard) circular fence. There was a small little hut at one end, like those kind you get for dogs when they're outside, and the grass within the circle had been removed, leaving dirt.

And sitting in the circle, that was being wrapped in chicken wire, was a young, tusked pig.

"What. The. Hell!" Donna shouted, startling the Doctor, who dropped his nail gun with a shout of his own.

"D-Donna! Ah, good morning..!" The Doctor stood right up, dusting dirt off his pajama pants, had he been out here since last night?

"Doctor, what is going on!? Why'd you tear up the yard, this isn't our house! And where did that pig come from!?"

The Doctor blinked, then looked at the pig, as if noticing it for the first time, even though he had just spoken to it moments ago. "Ah. Right. Forgot to tell you about him."

He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Soooo... this is Alfredo. Alfredo, this is Donna, I was telling you about her."

The pig actually nodded at this.

"Yeah, anyway, I rescued him shortly after I regenerated. Had this whole... thing after fighting some Daleks, and accidentally helping in their design, whoops. Ended up on a Sycorax ship! Remember those? Oh, wait, you were hungover that Christmas morning, right. Anyway, they had this little guy there torturing the Vega Raptons that were enslaved and-"

Donna held up a hand. "Get to the point, Doctor."

"Yes, of course! So, saved the day, took the pig into the TARDIS. He was in there the whole time!"

"Even when the ship was on fire!?"

"..." The Doctor made a face, glancing between her and the TARDIS. "He was protected. She kept him safe!"

"But not us!"

"Well, we were at ground zero of the whole coffee fiasco, so... that's kinda why she kicked us out."

"We escaped before we were incinerated by a giant blast of fire." Donna huffed, crossing her arms.

The Doctor scratched at the back of his head. "Well, she opened the doors, that counts!"

She sighed loudly. "Fine, whatever, but what are you doing? Why are you building this? You can't keep the pig!"

"But Alfredo wants to live with me, he's my little friend!" The Doctor looked at the pig, who was rolling around in the dirt. "Aw, that's really cute."

"Do you even know how to care for a pig? Bet you don't. I bet you can't even care for a plant!"

"Donna, there is a whole greenhouse inside the TARDIS, course I can take care of a plant. And a pig! Plus, Alfredo's a smart boy, it'll be easy!"

Donna wasn't impressed. "Does UNIT know you tore up the yard?"

His eyes went wide. "Uhhh... not. Yet. I'll tell them later today! Come on, Donna, please let me keep him? I'll take good care of him!"

"Doctor..." Donna started, being hearing the sliding door open.

"Mum, did you turn on the kettle? Cause it's read- is that a pig!?" Rose suddenly shot past Donna, rushing over to the half-finished pen. "He is! Oh, look at the li'l guy, he's adorable!"

"His name is Alfredo." The Doctor grinned.

"What a cute name for a piggy! Have you said 'allons-y Alfredo' yet?"

"Not yet, but hopefully soon!" The Doctor said with glee, then turned to Donna. "Come on! Rose approves of him! Rose, help me out, your mum don't want a pig."

"What!?" Rose turned around and Donna tried to stand her ground as she was being stared down by two sets of big, pleading brown eyes.

"Oh no! Don't you two dare work your charms on me!" She shouted at them.

"Pllllleeeeeaaasseeee, Mum! I promise I'll help the Doctor take care of him!" Rose pouted.

"Yeah!" The Doctor nodded. "We'll work together! Plllleeaaasseee?"

Donna groaned and threw back her head in defeat. "Fine! But you two are responsible, not me! You two will take care of him and all his needs! And Doctor, you better call UNIT and let them know."

"Got it! Thank you, Donna! You're the best!" The Doctor was grinning even more now.

"Yeah, the best!" Rose added, then turned back to Alfredo, scratching the top of his head.

Donna sighed and turned, shaking her head and muttering about how she was going back to bed.

[diefxrguns]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑

✶𝐚/𝐧- 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩, 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. ✶𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- 𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✶𝐜/𝐰- 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 18 𝐚𝐧𝐝 28, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 ✶ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐍𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 18'𝐬.

Your professor was a cold and calculated man, who had a mysterious aura and unpleasant demeanor. You sat in the brown class with Greek and Italian historical artwork and a somewhat "old design". A perfect classroom for a Philosophy professor. The blonde man looked like a Greek God carved from angles. A beautiful man who wore thin circular glasses on his face. A beard that was neatly trimmed suited his strong, masculine features. He smells of cigarettes and vanilla, with a hint of coffee.

"Mr Zeke Yeager" a well known professor and Philosopher, known for his outstanding works in the industry of Literature and Art. He certainly looked the part of a philosopher hense his somewhat old and "academia" style.

You were the only woman in your class and studied hard, however the subject was just to hard for you. You confronted your professor one day outside the university building. He was sitting on a bench, cigarette placed neatly within his fingers as he looked up at the gloomy sky. You asked him what was going on and why your results were so bad. Turns out you were never the problem.

He failed you on purpose, but why? Why would he do that.

" Good question, you're to bright." He said taking a pull of the cigarette and blowing smoke into the cold air.

" OK? You know you can loose your job for failing me!" You said angrily looking at him.

" So what?" He said smoking more of that darn cigarette.

" OK? I really need to pass Mr Yeager, I spent so many years working for this scholarship, I can't let you take that away from me"

" I know you like me sweetheart" He said looking you dead in the eye. His blue eyes digging their way into your soul.

I mean it was kind of obvious you had feelings for the older man, he was hot. You couldn't help but stare at him from time to time. Getting so lost in your filthy thoughts about him you couldn't even pay attention to what he was writing on the board.

" Listen Y/N if you want a good fuck, just say that"

" How about you pass me, and I'll let you fuck me for one night" you said clinging onto the books in your hand as tight as you possibly could. The mere words made you tingle.

Zeke immediately stood up and threw what was left of the cigarette on the floor. Stepping on it with his black dress shoe.

" Alright, And I didn't fail you on purpose, your work lacks context, I'm a strict marker. " He said standing only inches away from you, towering over your frame.

" Why don't you just tutor me?" You asked shyly, getting nervous from the man's presence.

" If you let me fuck your tight pussy I'll tutor you and I'll pass you for free, how's that sound " He said whispering in your ear making you shiver

You nodded your head as he walked past you, assuming you'd follow him to his car.

And you did so, following the man to his car and leaving the university grounds to his house.

Zeke lives in a gated community, with huge mansions and green front yards. You could tell he had money. The car ride was extremely quiet he looked so sexy driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand rested on his lap.

When you drove through the ring neighborhood you two eventually arrived at his house. A huge house that looked like a medditeranean villa.

" we're here" He said parking his car in his garage with a huge garage door.

You both got out of the car and walked into his home. It was huge. With two staircases and a chandelier in the middle. Brown floors made of wood that were freshly waxed. So clean you could eat your food off them.

" Showers upstairs" He said making his way into the kitchen.

You walked upstairs and took a shower in his bathroom. Marbles floor, a chandelier and nicely decorated with art and candles. A classy home, he was probably from old money.

You walked downstairs only to find him in his library across the kitchen. "He looked up at you pulling his glasses down the bridge of his nose"

" Why are you wearing clothes?" He asked standing up and moving only inches away from you

He left you no time to respond before he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you.

The kiss was long and passionate, taking your shirt off to reveal your lacy black Bra. He grinned and started kissing your neck.

" You're so gorgeous" He said tracing his fingertips down the curve of your waist, bending down, his face only inches away from your crotch.

" May I ?" He asked, ready to take your pants off.

You nodded looking down at him, his glasses shining in the dim light. Fuck he looked so handsome right now.

He took your pants off swiftly, along with your panties. Only to reveal your pretty pussy.

Kissing it gently as he began to eat you out.

You moaned gently and softly. He looked up at you with a smile " Enjoying yourself?" He asked.

Using his tongue to make circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Making you louder each time the muscles came into contact with your sensitive clit.

You let out whimpers and cries as his tongue worked wonders on you. It was heaven

Shortly after all that you were about to cut when he pulled away. His chin wet with your sweet juices.

"Not yet" He said forcefully pushing you on his desk. Your ass out and boobs pressed up against the oak table.

" you sure you want this Y/N?" He asked as your hair slightly covered your face. Your face pressed onto the table. Pussy on full display infront of the older man's eyes.

" yes.... please"

He immediately took his pants off, revealing his cock. It was big and veiny, with light brown pubic hair covering the area.

He inserted his cock into you, making you moan loudly. " oh fuck"

The older man pounded his meat into you at a fast speed. Making your head spin and your heart beat rapidly.

Spanking on your ass every chance he got, leaving the soft fleshy area red with his hand print. Him grunting and groaning at the tightness of your pussy.

It made him go crazy. He was acting like an animal, wrapping his strong hands around your little neck applying pressure slightly.

He turned your body over roughly, revealing your face and boobs. He picked you up sitting your ass on his table. Spreading your legs widely to reveal what was rightfully his.

" wanna see that pretty face while I fuck you"

Fucking you slowly and then speeding up his pace making you throw your head back in utter pleasure.

" oh fuck, fuck. Zeke..."

And with that you came all over his cock, your juices on his oak table. Seeing this made him cum shortly after.

" look what you've done to my expensive table. Be a good girl and clean it up" He said pulling your head and forcing your head down to lick the juice off his table.

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