#fragment identity

[multiplicity-positivity]

Do you have any advice for median systems of mostly or entirely facets & fragments differentiating who is who?

The sense of feeling like partially different identities, but never entirely different makes us feel like none of us are a whole person and this is very frustrating and overwhelming for us…We want to develop stronger & more separate identities of our own and we’re hoping you or someone else might know of any resources that could possibly help us with that?

Perhaps resources for facets intentionally developing into alters?

Thanks for taking the time to respond either way. We appreciate it. Hope you & your system are doing well!

Hey, we have had fragments in our own system who later either fused or otherwise developed into fully formed alters. For some it just happened sort of naturally as they fronted more and more and gained new traits, interests, and perspectives. For others, they had to spend time consciously trying to develop their identities a bit more.

We have a post that aims to help headmates become a bit more distinct and individualized - and as a guide it could probably work for fragments as well:

Though keep in mind, for some systems, they are who they are, and they won’t be able to reach a point where their fragments, parts, or headmates are extremely distinct and unique as individuals. It’s better to try and learn to accept yourself than try to change some unchangeable core aspects of who you are. So please use your own discretion and try not to force your system to function in a particular way if that’s not how your system has worked in the past and if attempting to change isn’t really working.

If anyone sees this who has any further advice, info, or resources for systems with fragments hoping to become more separate and distinct, we’d encourage you to share it to help anon.

[mylittleredgirl]

actually you should see how much i’m NOT putting on your dash right now. i could always be so much worse.

[thekovenofkrakens]

Might try pluralmaxxing idk.

[boredtechnologist]

Zero Time Dilemma: Where Free Will Dies Screaming

"If you remove all the pieces of a ship, one by one, is it still the same ship?"

That’s not just a dorm-room question for philosophy majors - it’s the silent scream at the heart of Zero Time Dilemma (2016). The third entry in Kotaro Uchikoshi’s Zero Escape trilogy isn't just the darkest - it’s the most disturbed, fragmented, and meta-aware. A game that doesn’t just tell a story - it gaslights you into questioning whether the story ever existed at all.

Beneath its pseudo-Saw setting and logic puzzles lies a game obsessed with one terrifying question:

What happens when a person becomes aware they are a variable in someone else's equation?

Fragmented Consciousness as Horror

Unlike its predecessors, Zero Time Dilemma doesn’t let you follow one linear path. Instead, you bounce between timelines and memory fragments - completely out of order. This isn’t just narrative novelty. It’s weaponized disorientation.

You, the player, are forced to simulate the experience of temporal dissociation - a horror that mirrors real-world psychological conditions like dissociative identity disorder, PTSD, or memory repression. You wake up in a new “fragment” without knowing what your past self did. You watch the same character die in three different ways. You solve puzzles to try to prevent an outcome you already witnessed.

You are complicit. And yet, never in control.

That’s the dread: Zero Time Dilemma doesn’t ask "What would you do?" It says: "You already did it. And it didn’t help."

Free Will as a Lab Experiment

The Decision Game - the core premise - operates on the illusion of choice. But like Schrödinger's cat, each decision you make is a quantum state: both right and wrong until observed. The real horror is realizing that even your agency is a variable in someone else’s algorithm.

Characters aren’t making decisions. They’re being watched, measured, split across timelines like cells under a microscope. Every death is an iteration. Every betrayal is a test result.

The mastermind Zero isn’t just an antagonist. He’s a surrogate for the player, the developer, and the narrative algorithm itself. The game hints that causality has collapsed. That time isn’t a line but a mobius strip soaked in blood.

If 999 was about survival, and Virtue's Last Reward about trust, then Zero Time Dilemma is about despair as design. It’s a world where your only role is to suffer well.

Identity Is a Lie Told by Continuity

Characters in ZTD begin to suspect they are not singular beings. This isn’t just sci-fi - it’s existential dread. Sigma and Diana face a future where their souls are uploaded, duplicated, fragmented. Phi is born of paradox. Akane becomes myth. Q isn’t even sure if he’s human.

The deeper horror? The more they learn, the less human they become. Knowledge severs their emotional grounding. In the real world, identity is formed by memory, morality, and embodiment. In ZTD, those are just file properties - subject to overwrite.

Ask yourself: If you're distributed across realities, and you only exist in pieces, are you still a person?

Or have you become a narrative function?

The Player as God - and Monster

This is where the meta-horror cuts deepest.

You, the player, are orchestrating this suffering. Your omniscient perspective gives you power - but it’s cold, detached, and amoral. You’re not solving for justice. You’re solving for completion. You need to unlock every outcome to unlock the truth. Which means forcing every character to endure every possible trauma.

Kidnapping. Betrayal. Murder. Regret. You press "Continue" as they scream, just to see what happens next.

You’re not playing God.

You’re playing Zero.

And the game knows it.

The Psychological Toll of Absolute Knowledge

The deeper you go, the worse it gets. ZTD reveals that full awareness across timelines is not empowerment - it’s psychic decay. Phi, Sigma, Akane - all show signs of wear. They become ritualistic, obsessed with timelines, detached from the emotional weight of death.

Their empathy erodes. They become more like the player.

It’s a rare game that dares to say this:

“Knowing everything will not save you. It will destroy you.”

Zero Is Not a Villain. Zero Is a Mirror.

In ZTD, the villain isn’t a twisted genius - it’s the system itself. The escape room. The timeline. The branching logic. It’s the framework of the narrative, and you, the player, are the one making sure it runs to completion.

In the final analysis, Zero Time Dilemma becomes a kind of theological horror. A game where God has been replaced by a sentient flowchart, where the soul is just a conditional flag, and where hell isn’t punishment - it’s repetition.

And maybe that’s the darkest thing of all:

You didn’t come here to save them. You came here to watch them suffer in every way possible. And the game made sure you had no choice.

[sainteclectic]

extremely messy charts of how I see divinity/holiness in cccc

whole is a human being who is a "god", but in the way that god is seen as above or "more" than humanity. like how an intact vase is more complete and less flawed than a broken shard of a vase. do you see my vision.

[harbingersecho]

let me go, please -- i don't wanna do this!

[dhddmods]

Plural/System Guide!

Hello! We wanted to share a quick plural guide for anyone that is confused about plurality.

(This guide mentions dissociation quite a few times, so you may also want to check out our dissociation guide. We also recommend you read our alterhuman guide, to understand experiences that non-humans & introjects within systems may have.)

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Plurality/Systems is an umbrella term for anybody that has more than one person/entity controlling a singular body. Each member can have their own name, pronouns/titles, sex, gender, appearance, race/species, orientation, etc. Anyone that isn't plural is a Singlet.

Being in-control of the shared-body is known as Fronting. Fronting can be optional or forced by the brain. Co-fronting is when multiple people are fronting at the same time. If a fronter/co-fronter cannot retreat, it is known as being Frontstuck. When a system is swapping who is fronting, it is known as Switching.

System members are called sysmates, headmates, alters, parts, or facets. Every system has their own preference of what to call their members. In some cases, sysmates are temporary, and may go inactive/fade over time, or exit through a gateway (more on that later.)

Sysmates can have individual memories, or they may share all their memories as a collective. They may or may not get the choice of what to share. If a certain memory is not accessible to all of the system, it is known as having Amnesia Barriers.

An Innerworld/Headspace is a dreamscape that many systems have, where members can live and interact when they are not in charge of the shared-body. They could have one set appearance (ie; a planet, a spaceship, a house, etc), or they could shift/change, either randomly, following a schedule, or at the will of sysmates (either specific sysmates or all sysmates.) The opposite of the innerworld (the physical space that the shared-body interacts with) is known as the Outerworld/Meat Space.

Many innerworlds have fronting rooms, which are areas that sysmates go in order to watch what is happening in the outerworld.

Not all systems have a innerworld. They may simply go into a "coma" when they are not fronting, or may "float" in an empty void. Innerworlds could be any size.

Some systems have NPCs (people who are incapable of fronting & engaging in shared memories). NPCs can be simple (repeating lines, repeating tasks, limited behaviors, etc) or complex (capable of new dialogue, capable of coming up with new tasks, a variety of behavior, etc). For complex NPCs, the only way to tell them apart from sysmates is by the fact that they have no special abilities (like fronting, sharing memories, or set-roles.)

Fragments are sysmates that are not fully developed. They are sort of in-between simple NPCs and sysmates. They have some system capabilities, but are not fully autonomous, and often to not have a full grasp over their personal identity.

Sometimes NPCs and fragments develop into full-sysmates.

Fusing/Merging/Integration describes when two or more sysmates merge together, either temporarily or permanently. If it is a temporary fuse, it is known as Blending. Their physical appearances may combine, or they may take on only one of the sysmates appearances, or a whole new appearance unrelated to either of their previous ones. Their identities may be merged as well, or they may be autonomous within their innerworld body; a system within a system.

Subsystems are systems within systems. They might be a result of fusion, or they may have formed as subsystems from the start, or developed their own sysmates unrelated to fusing.

Some systems have groups that live separately within the headspace (usually on different layers of a headspace). These are known as Side Systems. There may be a Main System (which consists of the people with the most control over the shared-body), or the system may be made up fully of side systems that have equal control over the shared-body.

Here are a few terms for sysmates:

Little/Syskid: A sysmate who is a child, typically under the age of 13. Middle/Systeen: A sysmate who is a teenager, typically 13-17, however sometimes 18-19 is included. Big/Biggin/Sysadult: A sysmate who is an adult, typically 18+. Ageless: A sysmate with no age. They might look like a kid, teen, or child, or they may have an ambiguous appearance. Age-Slider: A sysmate whose age is fluid/fluctuating. How frequently their age changes depends on the individual. Lost Adult/Disadult: A sysmate that is physically an adult, but mentally a child or teenager. Claudia/Paradult: A sysmate that is physically a child, but mentally an adult. Exomemories: Memories that did not occur within the shared body or innerworld; memories from a life outside of the system. This can apply to introjects & walk-ins. Exotrauma: Trauma that did not occur to the shared body or within the innerworld; trauma from exomemories. This can apply to introjects & walk-ins. Introject/Introtive: A sysmate who has a specific "source." For example, a sysmate who forms with the appearance and/or experiences of a fictional character or family member. They may or may not share the personal identity (name, gender, etc) of their source, and may have exomemories/exotrauma of their source. Fictives are introjects with fictional sources, and Factives are introjects with real-life sources. Core(s): The first/original sysmate(s) to exist within the system. Gateway System: A system with a gateway (either physical or metaphorical) that leads to other spaces, such as other layers of the innerworld, or into a different universe. This gateway may be a one-way walk (as in once someone enters, they cannot leave; or vice-versa) or it may be free range both directions. If a new sysmate enters a system through a gateway, they are known as Walk-Ins. Median System: A system where sysmates are not as distinct from one another, and are "blurred" or are simply "different versions" of one main identity.

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Origins

Next up, system origins.

Adaptive System: A system that was formed in order to cope with something. This includes traumagenic, stressgenic, isolgenic, neurogenic, and physiogenic systems. Traumagenic: A system that was formed due to trauma. Stressgenic: A system that was formed due to stress. Isolgenic: A system that was formed due to loneliness or social isolation. Depending on how strongly the loneliness affected the person, it may also count as traumagenic. Neurogenic: A system that was formed due to pre-existing neurodivergence. For example, an autistic person who developed sysmates of characters from their special interest. Another example would be a person with substance abuse disorder who developed a sysmate to help them overcome their addiction. Physiogenic: A system that was formed due to physical disability. This is typically related to stress (stressgenic) or trauma (traumagenic) that either the disability itself caused, or ableism caused. Endogenic: A system that was not formed due to trauma; a system that is not traumagenic. This includes adaptive systems that are not trauma-related, created systems, protogenic systems, spontagenic systems, & unknown systems. Created System: A system that was willingly created. This includes willogenic, tulpagenic, spirigenic, & metagenic systems. Willogenic: A system that was willed into existence for non-adaptive reasons. They may refer to themselves as Willomancers, and might call their sysmates Willomates. If this creation was done subconsciously/unintentionally, it is known as being Catharigenic. If this was done through meditation, self-induced dissociation, and prolonged attempts at summoning, it is known as Tulpamancy. A Tulplagenic system might refer to their sysmates as Tulpas. Spirigenic: A system that was created through spiritual methods, typically connected to religious practices. Metagenic: A system that was created through metaphysical/spiritual methods, unrelated to religious practices/beliefs. Protogenic: A system that has existed since birth, or has existed for as long as the brain can remember. Spontagenic: A system that spontaneously appeared, with no identifiable cause. Unknown System/Quoigenic: A system that formed from unknown/uncertain causes. This includes cryptogenic & congenic systems. Cryptogenic: A system that does not know their origin. This is not the same as a spontagenic system, as spontagenic systems are certain that their system has no cause, meanwhile cryptogenic systems are uncertain of their origins, and may have amnesia or confusion relating to their origins. Congenic: A system with a complicated origin. Their origin may be so complicated that they are incapable of labeling it further, or finding a suitable category. Multigenic/Mixed-Origin: A system that has multiple causes, or a system that has different causes for different sysmates. For example, a system where some sysmates were formed from trauma (traumagenic), meanwhile others were willed into existence (willogenic.)

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Roles

Now, lets dive into system roles. System roles are jobs/duties assigned to sysmates, typically pre-assigned by the brain as the sysmates are forming into existence (however for some people, roles are chosen after formation.) Roles might shift/change over time, or a person may have multiple different roles. Not every system has roles, however a majority of systems do.

There are hundreds of possible roles a system may have, far too many to list, so instead we shall be going over the most common ones:

Caretaker: A sysmate who formed to tend to somebody. They may have a parental/grandparental, older-sibling, or mentor relationship with whoever they formed to tend to. Protector: A sysmate who formed to protect someone/something. They could be protecting their sysmates, the shared-body, the shared-body's relatives, friends/partners, or even physical objects. Holder: A sysmate who formed to deal with a specific thing, for the sake of the rest of the system. For example, a Trauma-Holder is a sysmate who holds a large portion of the traumatic memories/symptoms, so that the rest of the sysmates don't have to deal with it. A Symptom-Holder is a sysmate who holds a large portion of neurodivergent or disability symptoms. Their holding may be voluntary (in which case, they could be classified as a protector), or the brain may be forcing them to hold these things. Manager: A sysmate who makes sure that everybody is fulfilling their duties, and that things are being maintained. Persecutor: A sysmate who causes harm (intentional or otherwise) to someone/something. This is often a misguided protector or manager who is intending to help through harmful methods (such as alcoholism, self-harm of the shared-body, intense criticism, physical punishment of other sysmates, etc). It could also describe a sysmate who is a trauma-holder or symptom-holder, and lashes out as a result of stress, guilt, shame, etc. Alternatively, an abusive sysmate (for example, an introject of an abuser) can also be labelled a persecutor. Gatekeeper: A sysmate in a gateway system that keeps watch over who enters or exits through the gateway. Architect: A sysmate that has the ability to create/edit/destroy the appearance/structure of the innerworld. Beastmaster: A sysmate that has the ability to create/edit/destroy and/or control non-sentient beings (simple NPCs, animals, plantlife, etc) within the innerworld. Host/Outernaut: A sysmate who is in-charge of the shared-body, and fronts most often. Some systems have multiple hosts. Co-Host/Perinaut: A sysmate who takes over when the host(s) are unavailable, or who otherwise helps out the host.

Disordered Plurality (DID & OSDD)

Plurality is neurodivergent in nature, however it is not inherently a disorder. Disordered plurality describes people whose plurality is linked to a disorder of some kind. This includes most traumagenic systems and many neurogenic systems, however there are also a few dissociative disorders that overlap with plurality as well.

Dissociative Identity Disorder/DID (formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder/MPD) describes plurality where the system has distinct sysmates (possibly fragments as well), dissociative episodes, sysmates often (or always) dissociate between switches, and sysmates have amnesia barriers between them. This often (but not always) leads to sysmates being unaware of each others existence, and having difficulty with communication. Access to the innerworld is frequently also limited. Dissociation and amnesia can be worked-out through therapy or communication, however it is usually quite difficult.

OSDD-1/Otherwise Specified Dissociative Disorder Type 1 describes plurality where the system experiences dissociative episodes, however it doesn't quite fit the DID diagnosis.

OSDD-1a is where dissociative episodes occur, however unlike DID, there are not distinct sysmates. Instead, the system is median, or made up completely of fragments. Sysmates are "blurry" and similar to one another, but amnesia barriers still exist despite that.

OSDD-1b is where dissociative episodes occur, possibly even dissociation between switches, however amnesia barriers do not exist. Trauma may still cause general system-wide amnesia, but not amnesia that is seperated between sysmates.

DID and OSDD-1 forms from trauma (typically childhood trauma, however older people can develop DID/OSDD-1 as well.) DID/OSDD-1 might cause the plurality, or the plurality may be pre-existing, and the dissociative disorder comes from trauma experienced later. (For example, a protogenic system that had trauma later in life and developed DID, turning them into a multigenic system.)

[multiplesillylittleguys]

*sigh* pk;m new

[thesilicontribesman]

Prehistoric Pottery Selection 3, Wiltshire Museum, Devizes

[rooatgumpoint]

I want phantom sail NEOW ! I keep seeing other composers with the matching accessory and I’m gonna crash out

[haru-kanashii]

System Log,

Frags just randomly be gaining personality???

[nintendont2502]

forever fucking thinking about hal's name reverting back to ar when he became part of arquius

[whisperwritingstuff]

once again we have arrived at the time for hfs e/l as delivered to you all by myself and @varanere00 co-writing it. today on the docket we bring you post-funishment sillies and nourishing mealtimes. enjoy!

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Wakefulness returns to Neit slowly, pieces at a time. The first thing he knows is that he is wonderfully warm, and his pillow is pleasantly cool. Nuzzling deeper into it, he sighs, not ready to open his eyes or move his sated-heavy body.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Vex's voice, along with gentle fingers carding through his hair pull him further out of the sweet oblivion of sleep. Neit mewls, hiding his face under the blanket. He wants to sleep more!

"Breakfast is here." Vex continues, unheeding of Neit's plight. "You did wonderfully for me. Took your punishment so well. So well." Even the little scalp scritches Vex gives him do not convince Neit that it's time to get up. That's for later hours. Right now is sleepy hours.

Neit chirps adoringly at Vex, squinching his eyes even closederer and trying to bring sleep back up to claim him again. Everything is perfect right now, he doesn't need food or standing or anything. Just Vex. Only Vex.

His pillow shifts beneath him, causing him to cling hard to it. A wonderful smell hits his nose, even half buried in the blankets as it is.

"Well, if you don't want any, I guess I'll have to eat all these blueberry pancakes by myself. All by myself. Ooooh, would you look at that, they came with fruit, cream, and chocolate sprinkles! Score!"

Neit gives a little gasp. "You got me morning after pancakes?" Oh no, that's actually kind of touching. Neit shuffles the blankets so he can just barely peek out, opening his big shiny eyes to blink up at Vex.

"Dunno about morning after, but there's pancakes, yeah." Neit doesn't care what Vex says, these are morning after pancakes.

Neit shimmies himself a bit further up onto his Vex pillow, a little bit sitting up. In truth, a good portion of his resistance was thinking that Vex was going to demand to heathenously get up and ruin the perfect cuddles. But. The food is already here! Nobody has to go away or anything.

"And you'll feed them to me?" Neit really isn't sure how good his arms would be right now vis a vis fine motor skills. He gives Vex his best puppy eyes.

"If that means you'll eat until I say you're done." A fork with a piece of pancake, half a strawberry, a dollop of cream and a smattering of sprinkles appears before Neit. He's snatched it off the fork before realizing what he's doing, sneaky hunger only now making itself known in the presence of tasty food.

Neit croons a low, pleased sound, chewing the heavenly bite of food bestowed upon him by Vex.

"Of course, anything you like." Neit swallows his mouthful before agreeing completely and easily, then waits attentively for the next bite. Of course Vex gets to decide when he's done eating, that's how this works. Vex decides, and Neit enacts.

"That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble someday." Vex shakes his head, but still presents Neit with more pancake. Neit dutifully eats it.

"Do you promise, Trouble?" Neit giggles to himself, happily continuing to eat what he's given. Sneaky hunger is no match for Vex! And morning after pancakes!

Vex just sighs, and flicks Neit on the nose. Completely ignores Neit's perfectly reasonable gasp at that. The injustice!

"Any thoughts on what movie we should watch?"

"Whatever one you wanna watch." Neit answers, also perfectly reasonably in his opinion. Sure, it'll probably be a boring talky stars-thing, but if Vex likes it, that's what matters.

"If you're sure." Vex pauses his feeding of pancake to grab the remote and click through several things on the TV.

"Mhmm." Neit agrees, not even bothering to look at the screen. He does try to see if he can sneak a little nibble of Vex while waiting for more pancakes, though.

Sadly, all he finds is fabric. No skin in nibbling range. Mournfully, he mouths at Vex's shirt, giving him his most pathetic puppy dog eyes.

Vex isn't even looking at him.

After a bit longer of flicking through things, Vex seems to pick one. Or, at least, the noise of it stops changing. Neit's too busy to look.

"That's not pancakes." Vex says, pressing a finger to Neit's forehead to push him away from Vex's shit. Neit pathetically watches it go.

The next forkful of pancake comes soon, this time adorned with a large, juicy blueberry. Neit nomps the whole thing clean off the fork again, licking lil bits of cream from his lips as he goes.

The blueberry pops in Neit's mouth just the way he imagines eyes would. He bets Vex's eyes would taste even better. But Neit wouldn't. He won't. He likes Vex's eyes right just exactly where they are. They should stay there, all mesmerizingly glowy, and look at him more.

A single thought manages to scamper across the vast expanse of Neit's brain. "You. You eating. You gotta eat too." Good enough.

"I ate while you were asleep." Vex responds, holding out another fork. A bit of melon, this time.

"You really-really did?" Neit asks, with all the seriousness he can muster. The melon tempts him, all juicy and bright, but Neit holds strong to wait for an answer.

"I did. Really. There's empty food containers on the coffee table if you're not convinced." Vex gestures over, still holding out the fork.

Neit follows the gesture with his eyes, looking over the containers and nodding. Like, he knows Vex could have just got rid of the food in it another way. But! He trusts Vex. Even if he'd have liked to eat at the same time. And have some of Vex's-

But he's being hand fed now! Which makes up for it! Neit opens his mouth to receive his melon slice bite, please and thank you.

"I saved you a bite, by the way. Of my apple oatmeal." Vex informs him as he's fed his melon-and-pancake.

Neit has to cover his mouth, briefly almost choking on the bite when he registers what Vex said. Oh no, oh Neit can feel the wibbly sensation of his waterworks trying to start up.

"For me? Really?" Neit can't put to words why that hits him so hard. Why the notion that Vex knows and remembers that he likes having different foods, and that he taste a little bit of that variety... It just feels so big for Vex to not just care to remember that detail, but go out of his way to enact it when he could have just let it pass.

"Of course. Of course. Just let me know when you want it." Another fork of pancake hovers nearby, waiting for Neit to compose himself. It's got a piece of apple on it, the cream on top looking like enchanted Christmas snow.

Neit scrubs at his own eyes, as best he can with the Vex mask on. Or is it a Neit mask? Hm, no, probably still a Vex mask.

"I want it." Neit manages to say, voice still not quite steady, before carefully engulfing the apple cream bite in his mouth, maintaining the integrity of the illusion for as long as he can, before dashing it between his teeth. It's a little like eating magic, he thinks.

"Alright. Alright." Vex leans forward again, and returns with a spoonful of oatmeal.

“Thank you.” Neit murmurs, well aware of the absurdity of tearing up again at the sight of a spoonful of oatmeal. In his defense, no other oatmeal has ever tasted quite so much like being cared about before. Neit takes the mouthful carefully, slowly. Unwilling to risk losing even the smallest bit of it. And of course Neit licks the spoon clean thoroughly, watching Vex with utterly adoring eyes.

Vex simply resumes feeding Neit the pancakes bite by bite, each time including a piece of fruit salad and a dollop of cream.

Neit perkily goes right back to the rhythm of eating the bites Vex feeds him, making occasional chirps and croons about especially tasty bits. He wouldn’t mind if this just went on forever. He nuzzles into Vex’s chest in between bites, feeling affectionate and soft. He doesn’t get to feel soft often, not in a way that he enjoys.

The pancakes stop coming, instead replaced with bites of scrambled eggs.

"What do you want to watch next? We have time for one more movie before you can cook lunch." Vex asks, offering up another forkful of eggs. In the background, the ending credits of his sciencey show run.

Neit snaps up the scrambled eggs in big playful bites and chomps.

"Mm, you pick stuff." Neit says, though a flicker of hesitation runs through him, the momentary thought that he'd choose instead. That's silly. Even if there are movies he'd like.

"You sure man? I know my stuff is boring to you."

"But you like it." Neit says, considering. That urge to pick is still there, but he considers Vex. Vex lets him pick the movies all the time, doesn't he? Hasn't he? Neit's pretty sure Vex doesn't find his stuff interesting either. "Nice things for you."

Neit can't put words to it how that feels like a materially different decision than he'd previously made, even though both were to allow Vex to choose what they watch.

"Alright. Thanks man." Vex hits play on another episode, and feeds Neit what is apparently the last bite of egg, as no further bite appear.

Neit scoots himself around until he can snuggle up comfy to Vex's chest. He can glance sidelong at the screen from there, occasionally trying to watch it and see what Vex finds so interesting in it. There are some cool graphics, even if most of the talking parts lose Neit pretty quickly. When that happens, he just goes back to nuzzling Vex until he feels like trying again. It's no action packed adventure, but it is a good way to pass a cozy-drowsy morning post-meal lethargy.

Neit thinks two episodes of sciencey talk have passed. He's not quite sure. When he feels a hand on his cheek.

"Neit? You wanted to cook?"

Chill hand, good feel. Neit leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering to a brief half-mast before he realizes he's being spoken to.

"I did?" Neit doesn't quite mean for the words to come out as a question, he knows that he did. It just feels briefly confusing for some reason. Like he shouldn't? But he wants to.

"You did." Vex strokes his cheekbone with a thumb. "You don't have to if you don't want to. We can always order in."

"Nn." Neit quivers faintly under the affectionate touch.

Easy. It'd be so easy to just let himself take that out, go along with what Vex wants. Neit's inner thigh twitches with a phantom throb of pain. He belongs to Vex.

Is this how Vex wants him, always agreeable? Always?

"Neit? Come on, come back to me." Vex looks at him so softly, Neit just wants to cry. All too soon, he can feel the hot tears spilling over. "Shhh, it's gonna be okay." Vex hugs him close, rocking him gently. Cool fingers thread through his hair. "You're gonna be fine."

He clings to Vex, soaking in the comfort. And a little bit soaking Vex's shirt. Everything's all jumbly and loud inside himself, and it feels like the bins where he keeps his himselves are all spilled out messy on the floor of his mind, mixing up with one another. A room he had been so proud of keeping tidy for so long, in disarray.

Even after he leaves here, nothing's going to quite ever be the same, is it? He sobs with mourning for a normal that may not even be better than this new way of things, but that was comfortable. Steady. That made sense.

Vex is- What is Vex to him? A question with more answers than ever.

Vex is gentle with him, something he hadn't appreciated before, when it was usually in almost gruff, passing ways during these weeks. Vex's hand in his hair is soothing.

But he knows the taste of Vex's fist too. He doesn't want to give that up. Scar grips Vex's shirt.

This week will end. It will end, and he'll go back to his apartment, knowing what this tastes like. Knowing he has to wait to feel this again, be this again. But he'll get back rooftops and fists and explosions, his heart singing high with adrenaline and victory. Does it even out? Does it balance?

"I. Want to cook." Scar says, forcing his way past the hitch in his voice. He wants to make the most of this time while he has it.

"Take your time. I'm not that hungry yet." Vex presses a kiss to Scar's forehead. Why does Vex have to be so sweet? So considerate? It's just not fair!

"Why's someone as thoughtful as you a villain." Scar huffs, lightly headbutting Vex's shoulder. How dare Vex have this ooey gooey core of goodness and sweetness in him. Rude!

"Who said villains can't be thoughtful in their schemes. I do make sure to always label my self destruct buttons after all." Vex deadpans. "Besides, maybe my villainy has thoughtful origins."

"Cuteguy says you're just doing that to lull me into bein' too comfortable hitting that button, that you're gonna switch it on me onea these days." Scar mutters. He doesn't let himself think too hard about how it'd feel to hit a button and realize he'd helped Vex's scheme instead of stopping it.

"That is a good idea, I'll have to thank Cuteguy next time I see him." Vex chuckles.

"Oh, he'll hate that." Scar nods, casually. He's never going to hear the end of having mentioned it to Vex from Grian but like. It doesn't really change anything, does it? Vex was already gonna do it or not, so like. What's talkin’ about it matter?

Vex hums, petting his hair. They sit in silence for a while, both looking at the next episode screen of the sciencey show.

"So what did you want to cook?" Vex asks.

"Depends. You got a waffle-makey?" Technically that idea was for when Scar thought he was the one making the fancy morning after foods, but it's what he planned for so he's gonna at least try.

"I think so?" Scar can see Vex's eyebrows crinkle under the mask. "Check the back of the top left cabinet. Behind the panini press."

"Oh good, then spicy chicken waffles is a go!" Scar cheers. He wiggles in excitement for cooking.

"And how long will those take you? You should not be on your foot for long. Half an hour at most."

"Uuuuh, yeah. I can definitely for sure do it in a half hour." Scar nods real big repeatedly, having absolutely no idea how long the meal will take to cook. Well, not no idea, it does have to be longer than the minutes the chicken has to be in the oil, but the rest of it is kinda whatever. He'll figure it out!

Vex does not look convinced. "Take a chair with you. Sit whenever you can."

Scar pokes Vex directly in the middle of the chest. "Chair."

"Hm?" Vex tips his head, confused. "Yes, you should take a chair with you."

"I pick you. You're chair." Scar grins at Vex, impishly.

"I'm not a chair Neit. Sitting on me is not practical for cooking." Vex sighs when Scar gives him his very best puppy dog eyes. He wants to sit on Vex!

"I can come to the kitchen with you." Vex concedes. "You can sit on my lap if you have a waiting period."

"You undersell your chair-ability." Scar giggles. But! he'll take the victory of Vex coming with him.

Scar smooches Vex right on the nose. Because he can!

Bamboozled! Scar almost squeaks in surprise when Vex smooches him back! Right on the nose too!

How dastardly, of Vex to use his own tricks against him! Scar fires back with a whole volley of tiny kisses all over Vex's face!

He does squeal when Vex gathers him into his arms, and stands up, Scar throwing his arms around his neck and hanging on for dear life! Vex brings him to the kitchen, setting him down on the counter.

"You gonna get the waffley maker for me, Vexy?" Scar asks, fluttering his eyelashes. If Vex is in Scar's kitchen, then obviously he has to help. That's the rule. And Vex did so good with the cocoa and coochie!

Meanwhile, Scar's got a fridge to crack open and scout for his newly delivered ingredients.

"Sure." Scar can hear Vex rummaging through the cabinets. The fridge has all the stuff he ordered, save for the flour, baking powder and spices. Those are sitting out on the counter. Why Vex put the honey in the fridge Scar doesn't know.

Scar eagerly grabs ingredients out, making sure he carefully portions out each powder and goop and spice he needs into their own little dishes. Vex has like, the best washy machine ever, so Scar doesn't have to care about using a millionty billionty dishes.

And Scar's treat, for putting all of his mis in the appropriate place?

Is that Scar gets to take down his kitchen knife and cleaver, so he can break down the whole chicken into appropriately fryable pieces!

Scar hums cheerfully to himself, sliding knife under skin, through muscle. Twisting and cracking joints confidently before slamming them sharply with the cleaver. It's the best part! Taking apart a thing that was alive, and rendering it into perfectly cookable chunks of sinew and bone! This part at least, holds all of Scar's fervent focus.

A shame that it's over all too soon, but Scar's very proud of his work, pieces all laid out on a rack over a tray to dry out a bit extra. And Vex has even got a fancy-fancy sink he can tap with his arm to turn on! So he can wash up all the chicken ick!

"Those're gonna need sharpening soon." Scar says to himself, to hopefully remember to do that later, while setting the knives up to dry.

"Vexy, you got that plugged in?" Scar finally turns to look for Vex.

"Vex?" Scar doesn't see him anywhere. The waffle-makey is sitting on the counter, cord curled neatly around it.

"Vex?" Scar tries again. A movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. Vex- Vex is sitting on top of the upper cabinets. Watching Scar with an amused smirk on his face.

"You wonder how I can be thoughtful and a villain, yet you seem to enjoy rending corpses a little too much for someone who plays hero." Vex's words and tone send a shiver down Scar's spine. Like Vex can see right into his soul.

Scar resists the urge to look away. He also discards the urge to insist he is a- Well, he's not right now.

"Being a hero takes knowing a lot about bodies. This is basically the same set of skills, why wouldn't I take pride in my work?" Scar challenges back, moving to set up the waffle-maker and get it heating while his waffle batter is still resting from earlier setup.

"Hmm, I think not." Vex floats down from his perch, so he's nose to nose with Scar. "Do remember to give your feet a break. No matter how high your pain tolerance is, wounds heal better when you don't apply mechanical stress to them." Vex boops a kiss onto Scar's nose, before settling on a kitchen table chair. "Don't let me bother you." He waves Scar back to work. "You have 24 minutes left."

Scar huffs. "You can't expect me to take a break with you pushin' the time pressure like that."

Regardless, Scar drags out the heavy pot and gets the lard on to melt and heat up. Should he have done that sooner? Shut up. Shut up is when he should have done it, Vex is getting him all dismabobjimated.

"You think too much. It makes you go silly in the head." Scar shakes his head, taking just a moment to straddle Vex's lap while everything is waiting for a bit.

Vex pets Scar's thighs where Scar's sitting on him. Not saying anything, just looking at Scar intently with that ghost of a smile on his lips.

Leaning a little in to drape his arms over Vex's shoulders, Scar lets himself enjoy the moment of staring into Vex's eyes. Eventually, he feels himself echoing that smile's spirit in his own twist of lip. Matchy.

"Your pot." Vex reminds him, taking his hands off him.

Scar jolts, hopping off of Vex's lap. Right! He's cooking!

Oh no, the color on the number stick is up too high now- Scar tosses a couple of extra chunks of lard in while turning the stove down, and lets it get on with its whole thing while greasing and pouring up the first waffle.

From there Scar falls into a flurry of back and forth steps without much break. Dredge the chicken, with a bit of wet flicked into the last dry to make it extra crispy craggly. Seasony spices also through the dry to make it extra tastingful. Making sure to keep his wet and dry hands straight, and dropping in the chicken bits when the number is good. In batches, of course. Appropriately cleaning his hands as he goes.

But he also has waffles to manage while this is going on, wanting at least four good ones, so he pulls and pours a fresh one before getting back to turn the chicken. Steps moving on beat, mind ticking in time. Back and forth between chicken and waffles.

Scar tunes everything else out, until he finally has two plates, with double savory-sweet waffles stacked high with bright golden-red crispy-crunchy chicken, all drizzled over with a generous serving of spicy honey.

Scar sways slightly as he stands back to appraise his plated work.

"Three minutes over time." Vex declares. "No more kitchen time for you today. Or standing time in general. This does look delicious though. Very delicious."

"C'mon, let's eat!" Scar completely ignores Vex saying whatever about his time, and only focuses in on basking in the praise for his food. It does look delicious!

And if Scar stumbles very slightly on his way to his seat, well, the table's right there for him to catch himself on, and at least he wasn't holding the food at the time. Scar settles onto his chair, breathing a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized he was quite so achey until the pressure was off.

They both dig in, and yes, the food is just as good as it smells. Maybe even a bit better.

Scar eagerly takes up his chicken and rends the flesh apart with his teeth, tearing and shaking his head like the food is trying to fight him. He leaves behind a nearly clean pile of bones. The waffles, Scar lifts in his hands as well and savages with just as much abandon.

That hungry glinting gaze settles on Vex for a moment before Scar blinks it back to something cheerful. "How's it?"

Vex, who is eating with a knife and fork like civilized boring person. He's even got a napkin. A napkin! Where did he get that from? When did he get it?

"No complaints." Vex even swallows all of the food in his mouth before speaking! Why does he have so many manners! Scar has never seen someone eat fried chicken quite like this. He watches in baffled fascination as Vex continues to cut up his drumstick into small, bite sized pieces. Nearly uniform in size. Equal bits of waffle, following the top of the ridgelines, to put the chicken on. That Vex then spears on his fork, dips in the pool of honey on his plate, and eats. Like he's at one of those fancy dinners Hotguy sometimes gets invited to. Scar remembers having to take an etieke- equime- a manners and fancy eating class for that. Vex is eating in a way his instructor would have been proud of.

Scar is lost in watching Vex move through the perfect clean little motions of eating what is supposed to be a sticky, savage mess of a meal.

Speaking of sticky, Scar's fingers rather are. So he slowly works his way through licking them clean, eyes still locked on Vex's unhinged way of eating.

The notion of wondering why Vex knows how to eat like that manages to worm its way into Scar's thoughts, mingling with the notion of Vex having all sorts of cash to throw around. Does Vex actually go to fancy rich people functions? Maybe... Well, Scar picks the most interesting-sounding of the invites he gets, to attend, but what if he tried going to a few more of them? Would he find Vex there? As his not-Vex him?

"Do you have no table manners at all?" Vex asks, finally looking up at Scar.

Scar blinks at Vex, popping his finger back out of his mouth to answer. "We're at home." Why would he burn the energy on remembering fancy silly things here?

Vex just sighs and shakes his head. He's still got almost half his food left, unlike Scar, who basically inhaled his. It was good though! Those fancy ingredients really do make a difference!

"Don't you want to have even a little fun with your food?" Scar asks, when Vex doesn't respond.

"My food is plenty fun not touching my fingers, thanks." Vex answers, somewhat stiffly.

"But that's the point of finger food?" Scar tips his head.

"I prefer to use my fingers for my cutlery." Vex shrugs. "I don't like the sticky, greasy feeling of eating with my hands."

Scar rests his chin on his palm, contemplating Vex. He can't say he really gets that. The feeling of warm grease dripping off his fingers and flesh gathered under his nails is a large part of the appeal for Scar, he can't quite imagine what it'd be like to dislike it.

"Weird." Scar concludes.

"What movie do you want to watch after lunch?" Vex asks, seemingly choosing light conversation.

"Oh, we should do musicals!" Scar claps his hands together. "Hm, maybe Lion King?"

"Sounds good man, sounds good. What's that one about again?" How can Vex not know the Lion King!

"Oh, it's this great coming of age romp-" Scar launches into an extended ramble about Lion King, as if they're not just about to go watch it imminently. Including a few very excellent samples of the songs, if he does say so himself.

While Scar explains, Vex finishes his meal, and starts cleaning the kitchen.

"So like Hamlet, except Ophie doesn't die of course, because Simba's better-" Scar continues his rambling without pause, hardly even seeming to notice what Vex is doing.

Scar barely even takes note of Vex scooping him out of his chair once he's done. He's brought to the sink.

"Wash your hands." Vex instructs. Scar blinks.

"But I cleaned 'em good." Scar puts only lip service into his protest, already washing his hands even as he does.

Look, it's one thing to tease Vex, but it's another thing entirely to forget he got spicy on his hands and go touching stuff. If Scar's getting any spice on his junk it's going to be intentional, dang it!

"Good, thank you." He gets a kiss on the cheek for his efforts, as Vex carries him back to the couch after.

Scar melts contentedly into Vex's hold, snuggling up close with Vex once they settle on the couch. He sees no reason he should leave Vex's lap! He did good meal, and now he gets his prize. His Vex. His little nibbles on Vex's neck.

"You need to let me go so I can put on the movie."

Scar pouts. Vex will not be escaping cuddle times! "Make a better movie system." Scar demands, clinging tighter.

Vex sighs. "That will take time. So unless you want me to spend the day in the lab..." he trails off.

No. No, Scar does most certainly not want that. Then he'd have to destroy the lab! Be on his feet even if Vex didn't want him to! It'd be a whole thing, and at the end, they would still not be cuddling and watching Lion King.

"No. No lab. If I'm not allowed in the kitchen, you're not allowed in the lab. Any of them." Scar declares firmly.

"Unless one of us needs medical attention again." Vex feels the need to point out. "So when you cook tomorrow, I can have lab time? Sweet."

Tomorrow...

"How long do I get to stay?" Scar asks, suddenly feeling like that's more important to know. When does the dream end? When does the bubble pop? He rests his head on Vex's chest, not up to looking at Vex while discussing this.

"I'm not planning on kicking you out or anything. I do have to get back to life things in a day or so, but if you don't break anything you can stay until Cuteguy picks you up. Or leave whenever you want. You're not trapped here." This time went unsaid.

A shiver runs through Scar and he squirms. It's all weird and different. He doesn't like it. He's not supposed to be picking when to leave, that means he should have chosen to leave as soon as it was an option-

But Scar doesn't even know if Grian knows where he is. Sure, he can rely on Grian to come get him during the usual kidnapping weeks, let Grian throw a fit at Vex and make it so Scar doesn't have to choose to go. It's all out of his hands! That's how it's supposed to be!

Scar's not comfortable with it being in his hands. Scar touches where his usual phone pocket would be, even though he's obviously not wearing anything usual. Doesn't have his rarely used phone on him. Doesn't have the faintest idea of when the last time he had it even was.

"Cuteguy, I didn't check in with him." Scar mumbles, with shades of guilt coloring his tone. What if Grian's worrying? Who is he kidding, it's Grian, he is worrying.

"Do you need to?" Vex asks.

"M'supposed to." Scar rubs his cheek against Vex's chest. He doesn't check in nearly as often as he's supposed to, he knows, but he tries. Especially when things are different. When he's not home for a while.

And like. He's been safe here, and comfortable. And happy. And leaving Grian to worry alone, when there's nothing to worry about.

"What do you need?"

"Dunno." Scar flexes his hands. Weaves them together and flips it. Stares like he could find answers there. Like they'll have any answer other than that he should go. Scar can't deal with that. He can't. "Sorry, the movie, right." Scar smiles, pretty and perfect, backing up to give Vex room to stand. "Go ahead."

Vex fixes him with an unknowable stare from those uniformly pale blue eyes for a long moment, before getting up and putting on the movie.

Scar doesn't let the stare bring him down, exactly charmingly perky and cheerful as he waits for the movie to start up.

And an excellent choice, as well, with the cold open into song, Scar can simply dive into singing along. No need to think about anything at all.

Just cuddle up to Vex, and focus on nailing the timing of the lyrics.

Cub misses more of the movie than usual, even though his eyes are fixed on the screen. Beside him, even when the song fades away, he can hear Neit muttering along with the dialogue, word for word. Usually Neit only does that for some lines, when he gets excited about a scene and can't stop himself.

Normally doesn't really apply when they were just minutes ago in a conversation before Neit abruptly entirely iced him out, does it? A cold shoulder is a cold shoulder, even if it's done with a smile.

It stings a bit, that Neit is even now so resistant to letting Cub help him. What should he expect, when they've been at odds for so long? A couple of days can't change years of- All that. A chance Cub never thought he would get, or else he would have planned differently. But it's too late to change any of it now. Does he even want to change any of it now?

He can't let Neit go, knowing clearly how poorly he'll take care of his health. And he can't hold Neit here, when they both have lives to get back to.

It's an impossible situation, made only more difficult by the images of Neit that even now haunt Cub's mind. The ragged way he moans Cub's other name. His arching screams. His warm weight, quivering with the effort of following Cub's instructions.

None of that should weigh into Cub's decisions. Maybe if he was a stronger man, they wouldn't.

A senseless if, because none of them would be here if he were. Cub can only be who he is.

Who he is, is a man ignoring both his mask life and his unmasked life, to sit here, with his archnemesis, watching children's movies. And he doesn't even regret it. Not even when Neit's off-key warbling tries to break through his thoughts.

Whatever Neit needs, it's probably with the utility bits of his costume. That are currently buried under knee deep fire suppression foam. Along with Neit's armor. And Cub's armor. And utilities. He's going to have to dig that out, isn't he.

And clean up the whole lab. Cub suppresses a sigh. Can't have Neit think he did something wrong, after all. That might cause him to spiral. Neit seems rather sensitive to rejection, from what Cub has seen. Not that Cub wants to stress him out on any other day, but now that he is in a healing phase, it's especially important that he keeps his sympathetic nervous system dormant. Hopefully the movie is helping.

As Cub is further ruminating on the issue of the lab, he recalls something curious. Namely how both he and Neit were completely foam-free when they emerged from the lab. Cub was fully dry too, despite just having been in the shower. An interesting quirk of his phasing abilities, now that he thinks about it. It's happened before, now that he thinks about it. Never to this extent, but during a few rain battles he can see the pattern, with the knowledge of hindsight.

He might be able to phase in and collect Neit's and his things quickly, then. It's worth a try. Maybe he can excuse himself to the bathroom, pile their armor in his room, and come back. Or should he tell Neit?

With how that conversation about checking in with Cuteguy went, Cub does not think that would go over well. So how to give Neit the opportunity to check in without putting further pressure on him?

Cub is fully aware that he's ignoring his own issues right now, pushing them aside to deal with Neit. That's okay, He can deal with his things tomorrow. Or the day after. Maybe tonight. Whenever he has time. There's nothing pressing on his desk at the moment, and he does have people authorized to make all but the most critical decisions in his absence. And if any of those pop up, well, he'll deal with that when it happens.

Looking at Neit tucked into his side, Cub wonders if Neit would even want to let Cub out of his sight long enough to use the bathroom. With any luck, perhaps Neit will need to use the bathroom himself, which he will hopefully be able to stand long enough for.

And all of that for if the thing Hotguy needs is even up there, no less. And hasn't been broken. And if he could be convinced that Cub just happened to have it in his room after that conversation, and Neit somehow simply hadn't noticed any of the times he was in there.

There's too many unknowns and no safe way to begin narrowing them down.

Cub waits a few moments, thinking of how convenient it would be if Cuteguy just busted down his front door right now. He's told Cuteguy a dozen times that he'll buzz Cuteguy in, but Cuteguy insists on the property damage.

But no, nothing but the movie and Neit's voice fill the room with sound. Cub should be happy. He claimed Hotguy. He claimed Neit. Marked him, permanently. Intentionally. Willingly. He won, in a manner of speaking. So why has everything only become more complex and not less?

The movie ending, shaman monkey holding a lion cub up to the sky. Neit has muttered every single line under his breath. Honestly, Cub is impressed by how he knows every single line by heart.

He's also worried. Neit only mutters the lines if he's extra excited or stressed. And excitement would have him bouncing around more. Cub makes his choice.

"Why are you stressed?" He asks. No use dancing around the subject. Direct questions for direct answers.

"Who said I was stressed?" Neit answers, smile bright. Too still, hands tucked under his thighs.

"Cut the shit, Neit." Cub doesn't pinch the bridge of his own nose, but only because he's been told that makes him look far angrier than he is. Which is useful, sometimes, but the opposite of what he wants right now.

"Maybe I'm supposed to be a little itty bit stressed. You might not know this, but I don't take being put on bedrest-lite super duper well." Neit's eyes dart around, his smile fading slightly but not fully dropping.

"What would make you take it better?" Cub asks. There's a lot Cub could potentially do to make this easier on Neit. Doc has put Cub on rest, and actual bed rest, enough that he has a few tricks up his sleeve.

"I Dunno. We're doing the right stuff, movie and, y'know, whatever." Neit shrugs. "Usually just get crushed into place and deal with it until it's over."

"Do you want something more engaging? Or do you want to let Cuteguy know where you are? If whatever you need is in your gear, I can go get that for you. We should probably get your things out of the lab soon anyway." Cub offers, reaching over to take both of Neit's hand in his. "Or you can sit in the kitchen and order me around while I try to make cookies based on your instructions." That sounds fun, to Cub. Baking is basically chemistry, or so he's heard, except that you can eat the result. And homemade cookies are said to be a very good treat. Stress relieving too. Especially with chocolate.

Neit almost looked like he was about to start talking when Cub took his hands, but when Cub carried on talking, he paused. Good. Neit does still seem to be listening, thinking it over. That's far better than the worst possible outcome here.

"We take just a quick trip to the stupid lab, and then I can be back in the kitchen?" Neit peers almost suspiciously at Cub. Cub doesn't know how more to show he's being completely genuine here.

"We don't have to go the lab now. That can be a later thing. We do eventually need to get our things from there, though. We can go to the kitchen right now and bake, as long as you stay off your feet."

Neit makes a frustrated noise, fingers on both hands curling a bit in Cub's grip. Before Cub can figure out what that means, Neit sighs. "Kitchen sounds good, yeah."

"How do you want to do this? Do you want to sit at the table? Want me to pull you over a chair? Sit on the counter?" A flash of an idea strikes Cub. Back when he had two broken metatarsals, he mostly got around on his rolling lab stools. They have little footrests, ideal for propping up an injured foot. "I want to fetch a pair of gloves for myself anyway, do you want me to bring you a rolling lab stool? I think that might be the best option actually. If you want it."

Neit gets that squinchy expression on his face like he's doing some kind of math and unhappy about it. What kind completely escapes Cub.

"Fine, I'll try your dumb stool." Neit is back to squinting at him.

"Want me to take you to the kitchen now or when I have the stool?" Cub presses a kiss to Neit's forehead.

"Rug bad, kitchen first." Neit relents, chirping a soft noise when kissed.

[llovelymoonn]

okechukwu nzelu here again now

kofi

[devwell]

im watching an analysis on serial experiments lain and read the document from vrchat that basically confirms the connection between game lain and anime lain as the same lain but with different memories and new body, as the series often discuss the topic of "not needing flesh", "lain is an executable program" and more importantly, "if nobody remember it, does it ever happen?" which lain herself prove that belief isn't true what curious is there's apparently AILain, a chatbot that was active at the end of 2023 to early 2024, I haven't found much info about it yet.

[prosebyday]

After years of skimming books, Skipping chapters, spoiling endings – You decided to read me differently.  To caress the spine gently, savor every moment Linger on each word, softly turn each page To take things slowly.  That’s what we said.  You scribbled your annotations Dogeared my corners And tore out every page of me worth something On your journey of self discovery. I’m left splayed open, torn, jagged. we never made it to the end,  You decided it wasn’t fair to keep stringing me along After you already strung me along. You took me back to the beginning To the bench that started it all,  you spoke the words to end it You care more about the symmetry, the symbolism, than the cruelty of leaving me crying in the cold. I know exactly who I am, I can recall those pages by memory, I'll rewrite them, tuck them in gently. I might just be a little sloppy until I find the time to stitch my booklets and refinish my binding But you're left with my fragments. You still don't know who you are, who I am, you've learned nothing. You projected onto me never saw me as an equal and used me to try to grow. All you've done is take and hurt. Many years my elder and far less mature.

I am not the solution to your identity crisis // Grazia Curcuru