#jim true frost

[officialhbo]

Clarke Peters, Anwan Glover, James Ransone, Wendell Pierce, Jim True-Frost, and Steve Earle

The Wire (2002—2008) Treme (2010—2013)

[cinematicjourney]

Affliction (1997) | dir. Paul Schrader

[genevieveetguy]

. I think it's immoral to have children.

Saint Frances, Alex Thompson (2019)

[letterboxd-loggd]

The Hudsucker Proxy (1994) Joel Coen

January 2nd 2024

[1800naveen]

Making that post because I don't give a fuck. I don't bother with hiding your user because fuck your privacy.

I checked your profile and you ship Feysand, that tells me everything I need to know about you. Now, let's look at this paragraph again! The whole thing!

"Starting with meeting with the governors of the palaces and getting them to agree never to serve, shelter, or entertain Keir or ANYONE from the court of nightmares." Did you get that? I hope so.

When Rhysand said anyone, he didn't only mean Keir and his soldiers, he meant anyone who was born from Hewn City. Women, men, children. Anyone who hails from Hewn City will not experience the same comfort as the citizens of Velaris.

The inner circle believes that everyone down there is evil and vile but that can't be true, can't it? If someone like Mor came from there and was a dreamer, that means there are more dreamers. There are innocent women and children who suffer in the court of nightmares but Rhysand and his inner circle leaves them to rot. Mor hasn't done anything for the women and she left centuries ago.

You want to know why I said they would like Jim Crow? It's because of shit like that. People were denied shelter, service, entertainment, get opportunities, etc. That's exactly what Rhysand said about anyone from Hewn City coming into Velaris. They had to deal with Rhysand coming down to Hewn City only to torment them so more in their miserable lives. That little stunt Feysand did in ACOMAF was straight up disgusting. Getting freaky in front of your people? Can you imagine the women seeing that? That Rhysand is acting like this with his lady? They also had to watch Rhysand break Keir's arm for calling Feyre a whore which is well deserved but Rhys doing that but not helping the women who had suffered at the hands of men for many years? Some high lord he is. Here's the racism part I was talking about:

"The Illyrians are pieces of shit," he said too quietly. I opened my mouth and shut it. Shadows gathered around his wings, trailing off him and onto the thick red rug. "They train and train as warriors, and yet when they don't come home, their families make us into villains for sending them to war?" "Their families have lost something irreplaceable," I said carefully. Azriel waved a scared hand, his cobalt Siphons glinting with the movement as his fingers cut through the air. "They're hypocrites." This is from A court of frost and starlight. Azriel is talking like that about the Illyrians even though HE IS A ILLYRIAN. That is internalized racism in my eyes. Because why would talk about your own people like that?

"Get your facts checked." I got my shit checked, I won't be making posts on this app if I DIDN'T have my facts. I have read the series, I wouldn't make posts like this if I didn't read it. Do yourself a favor and block me.

I hate Rhysand, Feysand (as a ship), the inner circle, and I love to talk shit about them. That shit that Rhysand did to Feyre UTM is one of the reasons I hate that bat bastard. "He had me dance until I was sick, and once I was done retching, told me to begin dancing again." ACOTAR, Chapter 39. He never gave her a true apology for what he did to her and that's fucking horrid. He had no reason to do that. That isn't protection, that's abusing a innocent woman. Don't act like he's a good guy when he did all of this to his "Feyre Darling".

Hating this series is awesome, give it a try. And you didn't reply to my comment, how come? I was hoping we would start a argument. I don't need people like YOU in my damn comments. Please do yourself a favor and block me now, save yourself the pain. Try filtering out the anti Rhysand and anti inner circle tags if you don't want to see shit like that. I saw a little post on your blog about seeing a post from a Rhysand and IC hater. I know it's about me, I be lurking at times.

I do hope you see this and I hope you give me a good ol' block!🙂 Either you block me or I block you. Any comment from a pro Rhysand or pro inner circle, I am not taking it seriously. I don't need bitches like YOU around and I'm sure you don't want a bitch like ME around.

READ THE FUCKING TAGS, YOU FUCKTARD. YOU AIN'T WELCOME HERE. WHY WOULD YOU MAKE YOURSELF SUFFER BY READING FROM ANTI FEYSAND OR ANTI IC PEOPLE? IF YOU'RE A FAN OF EITHER, YOU STAY AWAY FROM IT. I want you to know that I compared Rhysand and Feyre to Donald and Melania Trump, called him and the inner circle fascists, and compared him to Bill Cosby!🥰 Here's one, here's another, and the last one!

🎵Now when I came out, I told you it was just about Rhysand. Then you had to open your mouth with a motherfucking opinion. Well, this is how we gonna do this; Fuck Feysand (Feyre deserves better), fuck Rhysand, fuck the inner circle as a staff, family, and a motherfucking crew! And if you want to be down with this, then fuck you too!🎵

Be sure to read the tags this time, much love and take care! No but seriously, just block me. Make it better for yourself. I say this with genuine.

Made a post, just for you and your dumbass comment.

[reviewvie]

Sinners (2025) IMDb

Written and directed by Ryan Coogler

Is it true to the trailer? YouTube

The trailer makes the same mistake as the movie (and even the poster) - Michael B. Jordan is not the main character.

(Spoilers ahead)

Promise of the premise

Gangster twins Smoke and Stack (Michael B. Jordan) return home to the Jim Crow South to open a club with young guitar player Sammie (Miles Caton). But when his blues music summons evil undead, they'll have to confront inner and outer darkness to survive.

What are its strengths?

Music is a major theme in Sinners and Ludwig Göransson's score is a powerhouse, blending old and new, blues and orchestral. In the film's best scene, physical representatives of Black music throughout history literally appear in the club.

Between the writing, cinematography and direction, Coogler continues to cement himself in the upper echelon of modern filmmakers alongside Quentin Tarantino and Christopher Nolan.

What are its weaknesses?

There are certain rules in screenwriting that exist because they work. In the first 15-20 minutes, you better make us care for and identify with the main character. You better establish primal needs for that character - sex, money, love, survival - and show us why the character will die without them, literally or spiritually.

Coogler makes a rookie mistake that all writer-directors seem to make at some point and forgets this rule. Michael B. Jordan’s Smoke character is given the most backstory and therefore dominates the advertising for the film, but:

Coogler makes us wait too long for that backstory, and

Smoke is not the main character

Coogler knows he’s not the main character too, because the film starts and ends with Sammie. Sammie's journey anchors the story. His music is what draws the vampires.

Intellectually we know he wants to play the blues, and that his religious father thinks it’s a sin, but his desire never becomes primal. We never feel it in our hearts. Not until almost an hour into the film do those primal elements like sex and survival finally arrive.

Again, spoilers

Smoke discovers that a Ku Klux Klan member sold him the barn for his club to gather all the Black people in town for slaughter. After making it through the night and defeating the vampires, Smoke goes on an Inglourious-Basterds-style rampage, massacring the Klan members.

We can certainly see the parallels drawn between the Klan and the vampires, although they accomplish different things thematically. But it leaves us wondering: why not just combine the KKK and the vampires? Maybe Coogler felt it was too obvious or lacked depth. But including the KKK storyline gives Sinners the feeling of one movie that maybe should have been two.

Does it deliver?

Ryan Coogler made a delicious cake, so to speak; the frosting just got a little buried underneath. Other vampire movies, or even Get Out (2017), have "high concept" sugar to help the medicine go down. Sinners takes a little patience to get to that frosting, but once you've digested the whole thing you'll be just as satisfied.

Who should see it?

There are horror elements, but Sinners is not particularly scary. Anyone who likes Ryan Coogler and Michael B. Jordan collabs will find something to like here.

[smeg-and-the-red]

Smegtober Day 6: Stranded

(prompts by @strange-and-off-putting)

word count: 596

A/N: This is set during Marooned. It is a little bit of a rewrite.

Lister is going to die. He’s millions of years away from home, stranded on an icy wasteland of a planetoid, and he’s going to die. And to make matters worse, his last meal is going to be a pot noodle. He always swore hell that the day he willingly ate one would be the day hell froze over, but having stepped outside Starbug and experienced the blistering wind and frost outside, he wonders if maybe that day has come.

And anyway, a pot noodle can hardly be any worse than dog food.

Lister grimaces and runs his tongue across the roof of his mouth. He can almost feel the rancid texture of the jellied meat still stuck to his gums. He couldn’t even say it was worth it because now, as well as the gnawing ache of hunger, he feels his stomach occasionally curl with nausea.

He looks over at Rimmer. The hologram is sat at the console attempting to send out another distress call. He’s been sending them more and more frequently, Lister has noticed. He wonders if he should say something about it, but he doesn't. He hasn’t said much about anything for a while.

Rimmer hasn’t either, and he probably thinks that Lister hasn’t noticed. The same way he probably thinks Lister hasn't noticed the tightness around his eyes, the grim set of his mouth whenever he glances towards the fire flickering weakly in the middle of the floor.

The silence sits like a stone in Lister’s chest. Rimmer doesn’t think he’s going to make it. He doesn’t believe the others will get to them in time. He smiles grimly at the thought that maybe Rimmer does care about him after all, but he knows that’s not true. All Rimmer can think about is the fact that once Lister is dead he will be switched off. He speaks up.

“Any luck?”

Rimmer shakes his head, “No.” His voice is quiet and subdued, without any of the usual snark.

Lister tears another page from Harold Pinter’s The Caretaker and drops it into the barrel, watching the flame slowly lick at it.

“Fire’s starting to die.”

“Is it?” Rimmer responds absently, but Lister can see the slightest pinch in his eyebrows when he turns to check for himself. Rimmer eyes the dwindling stack of books, as if trying to gauge how long they might burn for.

“Yeah. Could have done with a few more books.”

“Well, pardon me for not having an entire library at my disposal.” Rimmer says crisply. “If I had known they’d be used for kindling I would have brought the entire works of Jim Patters on board. That would have kept the fire going for a few decades.”

Lister shifts in his chair. He can’t quite feel his fingers. “Maybe.”

Before Rimmer can reply with another quip or comment, Lister continues. “Rimmer, listen. If the others don't get here in time-

“They will,” Rimmer cuts him off. His voice is tight and leaves no room for argument, but when has that ever stopped Lister before?

Lister tries again, “yeah, right. But if they don't…” He falters, his tired brain struggling to find the right words. His stomach groans, Rimmer's lips thinning even further at the sound.

Lister swallows. “If they don’t-”

Fortunately, Lister doesn’t have to finish the thought, as he is interrupted by Kryten and the Cat bursting in.

Visibly relieved, Rimmer watches him as Kryten checks him over. He scans Lister's face, as if trying to guess what it is he was going to say.

Lister isn’t sure either.

[alastorsbride]

Master List?

Just so y'all know who exactly I'll write for, and I'll write the following characters romantic AND Platonic unless otherwise stated☺

I'll only post character x reader stories IF I get requests and unfortunately I don't have any yet😭😭😭😭😭

I'll write any gender though I do perfer female as that's easier for me, but I'll write for male or gender neutral reader but they might not be as good as female.

If there's more characters in the following films that I have not mentioned it means I'll only Write the unmentioned characters platonic or not at all Like *cough cough* Valentino, Voldemort, Edward, Merlin, Arthor.

Acrinoms I might use and their meanings (from Google)

WIP: Acronym for "Work In Progress," indicating a fanfiction that is still being written.

OC: Stands for "Original Character," a character created by the author and added to the fanfiction.

OTP: Stands for "One True Pairing," referring to a fan's favorite ship in a story.

RPF: Stands for "Real Person Fanfiction," where stories are written about real people as if they were fictional characters.

OFC: Stands for "Original Female Character," a character created by the author and added to the fanfiction.

Key of what I WILL write:

✨SMUT/LEMONS

🌼COMFORT

🥀 ANGST

🌸.FLUFF

🤪.CRACK FIC: Refers to fanfiction that is intentionally absurd, silly, or over-the-top.

🌟.HEADCANON

🌌 AU

🎶 SONGFIC: I will try to do my best for SONGFICs, things won't be perfect, I've never written a SONGFIC before, but if you want me to write this with characters below then I only ask for multiple songs per story.

What I won't write:

female/female/female romantic relationships in fanfiction. Ex. Charlie Morningstar x Vaggie x Fem! Reader romantic. Sorry but no. Only platonic if that's the case

male pregnancy

Cheating character x reader or vice versa

Pedophile

Abusive character x abused reader or vice versa

Toxic character x reader or vise versa that ends in death

I'll try to write yandere but ilyk if I can't

Hazbin Hotel

Alastor

Nothing here

Vox

Nothing here

Angel Dust (Platonic only)

Nothing here

Husk (platonic only)

Nothing here

Vox Machina

Vax'ildan

Nothing here

Once upon a time

Peter Pan

Nothing here

Killian Hook (platonic only)

Nothing here

Felix (platonic only)

Nothing here

Demon slayer

Muzan

Nothing here

Guitaro

Nothing here

Daki (platonic only)

Nothing here

Giyu

Nothing here

Akaza

Nothing here

Twilight

Jasper

Nothing here

Jacob

Nothing here

Alec Volturi

Nothing here

Sonic characters

Shadow

Nothing here

Sonic

Nothing here

Tails

Nothing here

Avengers/MCU

Loki

Nothing here

Bucky

Nothing here

Eddie+Venom

Nothing here

Rise of the Guardians

Jack Frost

Nothing here

Pitch black

Nothing here

Evil Jack Frost (aka Jake)

Nothing here

How to train your dragon

Hiccup

Nothing here

Disney Moana

Maui

Nothing here

The Umbrella Academy

Five

Nothing here

Klaus

Nothing here

Diego

Nothing here

Harry Potter

Draco

Nothing here

Remus

Nothing here

Snape

Nothing here

Serious

Nothing here

Fred/+/George {[they both date you but not each other [Optional]}

Nothing here

Disney Zombies

Wyatt

Nothing here

Tails of Arcadia

Jim

Nothing here

Hisirdoux

Nothing here

My Hero Academia

Katsuki Bakugo

Nothing here

Denki Kaminari

Nothing here

Seven Deadly Sins

Meliodas

Nothing here

Harlequin

Nothing here

Zeldris

Nothing here

Others:

STRANGE MAGIC

 bog king

Nothing here

DLOSK:

Saiki Kusuo

Nothing here

SAO:

Kirito

Nothing here

VAMPIRE DIARIES:

Damon

Nothing here

Stephan

Nothing here

DESCENDANTS

Carlos

Nothing here

Harry

Nothing here

ENCANTO

Bruno

Nothing here

MLB

Adrien

Nothing here

Luka

Nothing here

MONSTER HIGH

Claud Wolf

Nothing here

Valentine

Nothing here

BIG HERO SIX

Hero

Nothing here

Tadashi

Nothing here

Fairy Tail

Natsu

═══════ ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ ═══════

Nothing here

Cirque Du Freak

Larten Crepsely

Nothing here 😭😭😭

Any other characters I missed?

A/N:

Please don't send me requests to donate to you because you're going thrugh struggles, I am sorry for what you're going through but I cannot donate for financial reasons.

[starlightlangdon]

Birthday Celebration |

Happy Birthday to the lovely @justabrokenheartedangel !! The world is brighter for everyone with every year you’re here 🩵. I hope you have the most wonderful day and all your birthday wishes come true 🎉🎈Everyone pretty please wish her a Happy Birthday!

The day started off with Michael and Jim curled up on either side of her, beginning her day with cuddles as she slowly woke up. Their warmth was almost intoxicating and after a few kisses to her cheeks and forehead, she dozed back off to sleep in the comfort of their arms.

Once they were positive that she was asleep, they snuck out of the bedroom and started on the birthday preparations. Michael went out to pick up the cake from the bakery while Jim got to work on making breakfast and getting their presents set out for her. Once Michael got back, they started decorating the place with birthday banners and balloons. Jim would occasionally inhale some of the helium for the balloons so that he could tease Michael.

“ohhh, what a handsome antichrist. So scaaaarryy”

Michael would just roll his eyes, repressing the smirk that was threatening to form on his face. But after the third time Jim did this, Michael had enough and popped the balloon he was inhaling the helium from and Jim lost his helium privileges.

They signed the birthday card with love in their eyes and love in their hearts. Michael’s handwriting could perhaps be considered more “elegant” than Jim’s, as Michael always brought a certain level of flair to everything he did, but each of Jim’s I’s being dotted with hearts was something that was charming in it’s own way.

Once everything was set up just as they liked, they waited for her to wake up once more.

As soon as she comes out of the bedroom, she hears an eager “Happy Birthday!!” from the two. Jim wraps her in a hug and Michael comes over, giving her a loving kiss to her cheek and murmuring against her skin, “Happy Birthday, darling.”

They lead her over to the cake they have prepared on the counter. Jim takes one of the candles on the cake and removes it from the cake. He uses the bottom of the candle to trace a heart into the frosting. He giggles as she blushes and playfully sticks his tongue out at her as he’s done to her and Michael plenty of times before. Michael smiles fondly at the sight.

With one wave of his hand, Michael lights up the candles and the flames lightly dance with one another.

“Make a wish”, he whispers in her ear.

“Just don’t tell us what it is. We want it to come true”, Jim frets with a genuine worry that would soften anyone’s heart.

She nods and quietly makes a wish. As she blows the candles out, she will see that Michael uses his magic to make the disappearing flames spell “We love you” into the air.

The rest of the day is spent with her in their arms and in their hearts, always.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Baking

Day 2 of my Pride Month prompts! Today, Jim and Luna are baking cupcakes together. Let's wish them luck! (read on ao3)

Jim came to Jam and Roller, looking a bit bummed.

”What’s wrong?” Luna asked.

”Me and Yam were supposed to bake, but she got a fever so we had to cancel.”

”Aww…”

”Yeah, I was really looking forward to it…”

Luna thought about something for a moment. ”Wait… how about you and I go bake?”

”You and me?”

”Yes! I know it’s not the same with Yam, but maybe…”

”No! Yeah! I’d love to bake with you!”

"Okay! Well... when?"

Jim grinned. "How about right now?"

They walked to Jim's house.

"What are we baking?" Luna asked.

"Rainbow cupcakes! We planned on baking some and take pictures of them for pride month."

"Right! Of course... I remember you did it last year. They looked delicious!"

"Oh, they were! But they're gonna be just as good this year!"

"I hope so... I can sometimes be distracted and ruin what I'm baking," Luna admitted.

Jim chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you worry. The photos me and Yam posted last year were the cupcakes that we didn't drop, or who we messed up the frosting on. I'm not that good of a baker either. The thing is just having fun."

"That is true!"

They started preparing all the ingredients.

"So... I've been meaning to ask something," Luna said. "I feel a bit embarrassed cause it might be obvious, but I still want to ask you."

"Go ahead!" Jim replied.

"Are you and Yam like... dating?"

Jim chuckled. "Oh. Oh, no."

"No?"

"No, we're just friends. But both of us are lesbians!"

"Yeah, I know..." Luna opened the bag of sugar. She seemed to stare blankly at it.

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Were you... disappointed me and Yam weren't dating?"

"No! On the contrary! Or, I mean... I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if you were dating, but like it's fine that you aren't-" Luna almost dropped the sugar, but caught it in the last second.

Jim just giggled. She always noticed it, but never really reflected on how cute Luna was...

They put the cupcakes in the oven, and started to prepare the frosting.

"I'm thinking some could be rainbow colored, and others could be other pride flags. Like the lesbian flag... and maybe another flag? If you have a suggestion on one?"

Luna shrugged. "I... I don't know. Of course I know the flags, but... I mean, we could do every flag."

"Yeah, the thing is that I don't think we have enough color for that."

"I see... well, then we could just do rainbow flags and lesbian flags."

Jim nodded and then smiled mischievously. "Lesbian party!"

"Hehe..." 

Jim noticed something was up with Luna. She didn't seem to be her usual happy self. 

She had a feeling that if she asked, Luna would just say she was fine. So, she tried to talk about something else. 

"So, Luna... you've only dated boys before."

"Uh-huh..."

"Do you think boys is the only thing for you, or...?"

Luna didn't look at her. "I don't know. I mean, anything can happen. I'm... open... I guess."

"You're open?"

"Mhm. I mean, if... if I fall for any girl, I do."

Jim nodded.

Luna put down the frosting she was holding and glanced at Jim. "But... I don't think I've ever enjoyed dating any boy."

"Wait, what?"

Luna took a deep breath. "I just... I've liked them, don't get me wrong, but I don't think I have felt the way I'm supposed to feel about them."

”How do you mean ’supposed to feel’?”

Luna was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. ”Whenever I’ve kissed any boy… I just haven’t felt anything. And I think that’s why we eventually broke up. I just wasn’t into it like they were.”

”I see.”

”I think the only time I’ve felt something is when Sofia Carson kissed me on the cheek,” Luna admitted.

Jim raised an eyebrow. ”Luna… have you thought about this a lot?”

”I don’t know. I guess I’ve thought about it more recently, because… well, I think…”

”Think what?”

Luna suddenly started blushing. ”I don’t know, I don’t… like to talk about crushes or anything, but I think I feel different when I see a certain someone.”

Jim felt her heart beating faster, which was odd. If Luna had a crush, it was probably not on her anyway.

”It’s a person that I just want to spend some alone time with, but they’re always busy with other people around,” Luna continued, ”And once I get the alone time, I just freak out. What if I embarrass myself?”

Jim chuckled. ”I mean, it doesn’t have to be a crush… unless… do you want to kiss this person?”

Luna looked at her meekly and then nodded. 

”And you don’t want to give me a hint of who it is-”

Right then, the cupcakes were done in the oven, interrupting them.

Luna tried to get out the frosting, but seemed to have some struggle.

”No, you need to hold it like this!” Jim explained. She took Luna’s hand and gently guided her how to make the frosting get out. Luna just followed her moments, seeming to stare intensely as the orange-pink colored frosting came out.

”You’re an expert on this!” Jim complimented.

”Thank you.”

They finished decorating all the cupcakes.

”Wow!” Luna exclaimed, ”We made it without any accidents!”

”High five!”

However, as Luna reached for a high five, she accidentally knocked two cupcakes off the table, making them fall on the floor.

”Oh no! I knew I’d embarrass myself!”

”Wait, why would you embarrass yourself for dropping to cupcakes?” Jim asked.

”Because I’m clumsy! And I just wanted to keep my cool!”

Jim frowned. ”Wait… you… wanted to impress me or something? Or be cool around me? Do you think I’m… cool?”

”Of course! You’re so cool! And I’ve been wanting to spend some alone time with you for ages, and now when I do I am so afraid to mess it up!”

Jim gasped. ”Oh, you don’t have to…” Suddenly, she got reminded of their conversation earlier. Luna talking about that person she so desperately wanted to impress. Not to mention how relieved she seemed to be about Jim not dating Yam…

”Luna… you never told me who that crush of yours was.”

Luna shook her head. ”If I told you, I’d never be able to look you in the eyes again.”

”Well… you told me it was someone you wanted to have alone time with, and then you got it. Who do you have alone time with?”

Luna took a bite of a cupcake. ”These are delicious!”

”Luna, answer the question.”

”Seriously! These are so good!” She was about to grab another one.

”No!” Jim took the cupcake from her and stood up close. Looking into Luna’s adorable doe eyes made her heart beat faster again.

”What is it?” Luna asked, noticing Jim was focused on something on her face.

”You have some…” Jim grabbed some paper and gently wiped some frosting stuck on Luna’s lips. Then she snickered.

”Why are you laughing?”

”It’s just… I’m trying to focus on the thing I want to ask you, but your face… even when covered in frosting, it’s so cute. You’re such a pretty girl, Luna.”

”Oh… thank you. You’re pretty… pretty, too.”

Both of them giggled. Then, Luna went silent and she seemed to blush even more than before.

Jim suddenly felt how the room got warmer. She looked around. The oven was off, so nothing was burning. Was it herself that became warm...?

"Your pupils are really large..." Luna suddenly commented.

"They are?!"

"Yeah..."

Jim looked into Luna's eyes. "Your eyes, too... you must like me a lot."

"You must like me a lot."

They chuckled.

Luna tasted the frosting on a cupcake with her finger. Jim gazed at her lips as she put the fingers in. She wouldn't mind knowing how those lips tasted herself.

Huh. That was a weird thought.

"What's on your mind?" Luna asked.

"I was just wondering... your crush... do you think they'd want to kiss you? If you were in the same room?"

Luna smiled. "I hope so. I want it to be so."

"I might have a crush, too... I mean, I guess I haven't properly realized it, but... I at least know that when I see her right now, I just feel an urge to... kiss her."

Luna looked around, as if to check that there wasn't a third person in the room. 

"If you want... you can kiss me, and think of her."

Jim grinned. "And... you can kiss me... and think of your crush."

Luna stepped forward. "I don't think I have to think."

"I don't think I have to think either."

Slowly, they leaned in, and kissed.

As they let go, both were all red in the face. Jim immediately took a cupcake.

"Wow..." Luna said. "That was good!"

"Really good!"

"My stomach is sparkling."

"Mine, too! And it's not because of the cupcakes..."

They laughed.

"Do you wanna kiss again?" Jim asked.

Luna nodded. "Just let me eat another cupcake... so you can taste it from me later."

Rare moment when Jim and Yam aren't dating. Sometimes I wanna spice it up x) I’m usually an ace!Luna truther and maybe she still is ace! But I’ve gotten into lesbian!Luna too. She can be an ace lesbian icon.

[zombocomme]

Please, interact with us, our music cues will be highlighted for your convenience

[Midnight Special Theme plays:]

Zombocomme: Well, well, well, we are back on the air and we thank our audience for their patience. Mental health vacations should be taken by everyone, and loving yourself is so important, no? As this episode airs we have a little bet going on behind the scenes. You see, this story was originally selected from the BTL Lore vault and it's central characters and true ending have since been left on the cutting room floor, in favor of lending it's spirit to this collaboration project. Half our crew believes the original ending for the AU should make a debut, (ending A.), whereas the other half believe that leaving the episode resolution a mystery is perfect as is (ending B.) I've seen both of course, but I find that every rendition of the story means something new. I could go on forever re writing it, but the spirit of the tale is the same. And yes. It is time to move on from this Collab project to our next exciting slot, even if we do wish we saw a different end. I'll hope our audience enjoys this theatrical cut... And once again, this program is brought to you by contributions and collaborations from audience members like you, thank you.

And Now, Ministry 📺TV presents.

Featuring @frjimdefroque and @ask-miasma-ghoul in

RBRG/ FRJD and AMG:

✨️🐦‍🔥Combiverse🦋✨️

Spin off Episode: part 4 (ending B.)

Between The Lines, Episode 7 PART 4 of 4: “So help you god…you're set free”

Enjoy

NFW: MDNI : Rated-R: (Mature themes) *mentions death and dead bodies, bugs, gore and frontier diseases and violence, guns, religious interpretation of trauma, consumption of body and blood, allusions to murder/self and description macabre, and ghosts of the espooky kind.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” KJV- Mathew 25:37-40

🌌🗻🍂🐑🐾💀❄️🫲🙂‍↕️🫱❄️💀🐾🕊🍃🗻🌄

[Midnight Special Theme continues to play:]

God… The temptation made Miasma shiver  and his stomach pool a hot coil tightening from within…Jim shivered, but for a completely different reason…

Jim’s eyes clouded milky white. As he stood at the edge of the sunken sacred earth, it became more and more like a pit at the bottom of a gentle slope. They had dug into  the brick and when they had looked  up, the world around them seemed like a whiteout. Nothing. Only the distant row of the trees, the line circling them like a black fingered noose, that while it lay in wait, seemed somehow to tighten all around them all at once.

Jim stood up and threw the shovel, “The Captain wrote it, all but confessed it, ‘The Game had moved on’, he said! There were no ‘bucks’,” Jim seethed, desperately aching,  “Only desperate people.”

Miasma tilted his head away as if in mild disgust beholding the long since charred remains. Remnants of their time, discovered in the horrifying aftermath of ‘The end’, preserved like a stony fossil, cold and forever dead, until it hardened and became known… became the truth…concrete, and indifferent.

“They must have been starving” Miasma said, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, voice barely above a whisper.

“Like the Donner Party. They burned everything they could.  But left the main place standing, the places most damnable. All this evidence left behind… like someone wanted this to be found” Jim said through his trance like state, rocking on his heels, vulnerable and icy. “Whoever wrote that Diary probably.” Jim swallowed, feeling like a blue ice cube had been swallowed, frosting through  a hole in his stomach. He felt sick. Brittle old bones and a few scraps of rotted cloth, trinkets and tokens that had somehow in the heat, collapsed the kilns, trapping the mass grave of bones with saw marks and serrations.

Miasma’s face hardened, his nose catching whiffs of torn tender flesh, festered like that of a blackening fruit, zinging in the putrid of the juice, flies buzzing daintily, “My god… They really dead eat each other, didn't they. and that line, 'to the brick with their kin', hell it condemns the captain as well. Seems it is true...Mankind cannot help themselves can they, when it comes to their baser desires," he swallowed, "I suppose all mortals face this in the end… the judgement day of their wretchedness.

It’s, almost as if no matter what, under the eyes of god, it is true, all mankind is created equal.. That is…” Miasma paused, “...that is because, all men must die… funny… that a God who demands everlasting faith, is also a God that creates its faithful out of such perishable vessels... It’s a shame really” Miasma said, feeling his stomach clamp shut, trapping his insides. Jim eyes were white, his voice echoing almost as if he was speaking aloud where he stood loudly, but softly in a more intimate voice, as if moist in his ears, Miasma heard Jim speak to him.

“And if people are in a kiln, it is because they are dead, or fated to die. Grace means nothing, when the moment comes when the living envy the dead. The true crash of the human psyche, the end of humanity, the end of one’s self, “If the living envy the dead, it’s because the living have something they wish they were dead over, but didn’t die for. If such people willingly went to the fire.”

Was it what they deserved?

Was such a hellish scene of people walking into the fire meant to be the door to their hell, or their purifying baptism in that lake of fire, to get their ticket punched for heaven? 

[Don Abandons Alice plays:]

Miasma dropped his shovel letting it clatter on the icy ground. “A willing Lamb for slaughter.” he whispered. He watched as despair for the wretchedness of the world sank Jim to his knees crying milky white tears, that glowed white like the snow around them, “If only they could have saved them from themselves.” Jim wept. 

Miasma watched as his vision swayed and all sound hollowed to a numbness like he felt on his body from the unusual coldness of the world. “I am nothing special to god, am I...” Miasma said softly.

Jim shook his head, rubbing at his stinging tears, “Intercessor, hear our prayer”. Jim Wept. 

And as Miasma watched on, Jim began to sob, saying the prayers of Last Rites, and the Apostles creed.

…As the dead around them at last began to rise…

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee,

Dust curled around them “ashes, ashes, we all fall, up?” Miasma sang softly to himself, a lilt, as the rising debris began to slope up, taking shape, bone and soot, ice and charred things that began to warm and fowl under the sudden humidity and heat that melted away the snow. the immediate Area encircled with Fire.

and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishments,

Miasma’s breath sucked into his chest, it was like being in the pits, all over again!

"No, no, no, no!" Miasma panicked, pacing like a wild thing, looking for escape.

but most of all because they offend Thee, my God,

who art all good and deserving of all my love.

“Father! Father Jim!” Miasma began shouting, his voice raggedly higher in his panicking call, trying to climb over the brick as a corpse groped for his blackened boots, the others approaching, rising, clawing, teeth gnashing. One even tore his crucifix off. 

Jim whirled and saw the hellish scene, his eyes watering, in a voice not his own, but that of the captain of that camp mourned, “Oh what have we done, what has the world done to us!”, lamenting and wailing.

Jim could feel it, like empathic fire searing his veins as he felt the dead in their personal hell that was this goddamned oven, boiling over with a cacophony of cries for absolution. Seeing Miasma on the ground as he tried to scurry away from the dead thing lurching forward, chasing after him, Jim grit his teeth.

He grabbed a shovel and swung, a nauseating squelching noise as the blade of the shovel bisected a purple and grey corpse… “Miasma, Miasma I’m coming!” Ice chipped, bones snapped and shattered, ashes swiftly swept away, charred remains crumbling, there were too many closing in, every single one of them blocking all hope of leaving this circle of hell alive.

As Jim swung the blade, he could see the exact moment each person had died, like a snap of an old timey photograph flashing in his mind, how they had died, the white smoke around him distorting his vision, seeing human faces in place of the skeletal, every stage of decay and remains, portraying the humanity of their souls; The human experience all share at that moment where life ends and death begins, the fading light, and not every time had the eyes gone dark. before their breaths drew their last .

Miasma saw it too, and said what Jim couldn’t say, or else it would mess up the narrative, Oh yes. not only cannibals... but *MURDERERS*

I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace

to sin no more

and to avoid the near occasion of sin. 

Amen.”

[The Walking Dead Theme plays:]

Jim grunted, kicking back another clawing corpse that kept re-rising, like everything else. The suffering just would not die. And the living wished it was over, but their night had only just barely just begun…

Miasma felt like he was unable, incapable, inconceivably broken, that Jim had to come to his rescue, him? A Ghoul born from the fiery scapes of hell, why was it so hard to move, to run, or rush to defend. He felt like he was a helpless thing, marooned on an island surrounded by the sulfuric seas, boiling and acidic, toxic air stinging his every pore, bleeding from every hair”

“Jim help me, please!" He cried, seeing these beings the way humanity surely saw him, a murderer, a consumer, a black wolf preying on the living. "I can’t I can't go back! Please Jimmy! Help- I” Miasma began to cry. He knew, if they were dragged under by the suffering souls fondling the earth to rear up and claw their way back down with the living, sinking more and more souls with them, they would surely be lost.

Jim gripped Miasma by the shoulders, “Shut the fuck up! I’m getting us out of here!”

“Jim if we get caught and we die-”, “Then suddenly this is not our problem anymore” Jim said, brows knitted in pain from the feeling he had, the empathy of feeling the suffering and fear of his friend. 

[The Last of Us plays:]

“Miasma, We came to fight, even though we didn’t ask to. We came to find a way to set things right, and we came to find that peace. Please,” He said standing, panting. The dead were closing in as well as the greenish hellfire that was now all around them, as if they were trapped in a circle at the heart of the darkness where the deepest pain and regret could go. “Take my hand Miasma” Jim said softly, as if the dance macabre all around them were but nothing.

Green flames looked like blades of green grass soft in the sun like silk through the fingers.

“Though I walk through the valley….” Miasma thought as he looked up.

“Miasma, please. What is higher power than what we are inspired to follow as a light in times of darkness.” Jim said, his tone soft and yet gracious, begging his friend to heed his words.

“Pray with me Miasma” Jim said, lifting Miasma up. “This is  the lord’s fight…and we are on a mission from God” he said, a defiant tone as he faced the crowding undead. He held Miasmas hand in his, turning to dig his heels, a shovel in hand, ready to cut down whatever stood in their path.

“I never thought I'd fight beside a hell-spawn against hell.” Jim chuckled as they circled back to back, eying the massing wall of bodies, the weight of their work, heavy. Miasma looked down and saw his shovel, ready, calling out to him like one crying from the dust, ‘get to work’.

“What about dying beside a friend?” Miasma said, feeling a renewed strength in him as he brandished the broken shovel where blood was already painting it like a splattered crown.

Jim chuckled, “Well hell, guess I'd call a man pretty lucky if’n you can count him amongst your friends."

As shovel blades thwacked and spun, slicing as they ducked to move away from the grapples of the corpses haunting their every footstep, as they danced around, trying to clear a path with the force of their wills, but finding the action wasted, the dead were rising as soon as they were brought down, unending. Unyielding. and all around them...

"You'd call me your friend?" Miasma huffed, dodging around a small group.

"Friend, follower, whatever the fuck you call someone like you!" Jim shouted with a crooked grin, taking a large bloated corps down at the knees, trying to avoid its grasp as it crawled towards him.

"SINNER! how 'bout that!" Miasma said angrily, roaring as he cut a corpse down, black blood spewing from it's gut and flying to fleck his face. He bared his fangs as he faced off another skeleton, this one more agile than the last.

Jim frowned, "You act like ain't no sinner has a chance at seeing heaven's light! Don't be a doubting Thomas when you are so close!"

"Close?! Hah!" Miasma swung, bashing the skull into pieces and watching it mend over, but for being momentarily disabled, he moved to his next target, trying to force his way out of their circle of suffering.

"You know what I mean, I'll tell you every story under the sun if it will help you see the light! Even if I have to drag you over them pearly gates myself!" Jim winced, a shattered rotten ulna cutting him deep as he pivoted to break free of another hands grasp. "If'n we make it out alive! But I'll keep fighting till I'm dead!" He almost laughed.

“Yeah well, what the fuck about Judas then! If I’m gonna fucking die, I want to hear you preach to me about that story!” Miasma shouted as he was hauled backwards towards the ground. Jim bounded over to the offending body, bringing the blade to sever the head from the neck, the corpse clattering to the ground, the icicles of it’s skin shattering, peppering the white and black snow with meaty shards of putrid chunks.

“Ya know, if that ain't THE most perfect story for this” Jim said, an idea touching his brain like the light of god, burning in a bushel behind his eyes. “Miasma, corale them!” “The fuck you mean coral them” 

“Just shut up and gather your flock, look at them, going after you like you’re going to give them what they want, round them up!” “Like a fucking sheep dog?!” “Exactly!” Jim said, a gleam in his eye, as he made his way towards the dilapidated chimney, the flames closing in. “Use the time you have, and it ain't much, look!” Jim pointed as he scrambled on the dirt, ripping up icy clods that stung his fingers with the freezing cold bricks.

[Earth plays:]

Miasma managed to peek behind his shoulder, shovel up in two hands as he used it to try and push the herd of corpses back, his tail flicking back and forth to avoid being singed by the hellfire.

No. he didn’t envy the dead. That wasn’t his purpose. It wasn't what his dreams and yearnings meant. It was a hunger for something more, something beyond the toxic sludge of desecrated flesh. His consumption wasn't of bodies, or people, he wasn't trying to quench something in him over humanity and its hopes and dreams. No…. He craved what came of something higher, that which is granted from above...

*purpose*.

And now, now he had it. It didn’t matter how. What mattered was that it was. And with a great heavy groan, he pushed the group back, inch by inch as the fire closed in, circling them, getting them to move in hopeless circles, for their own good, he knew. You can only break curses when you set the offending souls to rest. They rest only when they can be reached. be understood. finding peace in compassion.

Jim climbed the highest mound he could, he could feel the green flames surrounding them like a sphere closing in. and it was his purpose to fight, by pushing back.

Holding out his arms to the green light at the end of what would be his mortal life, his voice rang out, catching the ears of all who could hear, and the eyes of those who got turned around by the likes of Miasma to see. Beginning his sermon on the mound of detritus and dust of self destruction. Feet wedged in the brick, rooted unmoving, and yet bowing in and around as the dead tried to drag him down but failed in their graspings, he began to preach...

“SINNERS!” Jim shouted above the chaos, “Even Ye are worthy of redemption, an absolution…an end to SUFFERING! I call on you to listen! Suffering is but a means to a grateful end. And for what considerations do ye call yourselves devils!” he said, the wretched word pulled like toxic ooze from his mouth, tongue lolling out as the black bile in his stomach rose, and vomited out of his stomach. It felt like it was tearing at everything on its way up, but there was a relief in the regurgitation, of finally letting the words he should have said before, at last coming out to reach the sinners in his current care. Truly, Jim really was speaking to those that called themselves damned for their actions. 

“If ye believe in God, as whatever you call divine, that grants swift justice that now gnashes your teeth, then you must also believe that as exists justice, so too does there exist MERCY beyond!"

Miasma shouldered several corpses causing them to crumble and hiss, but as Jim’s voice rang out clear and true, his conviction became theirs, and spellbound like rats to the piper, they slowly turned, and gathered around him. Heeding his words.

One by one, brainless, heartless, things turned toward the voice that was preaching about the possibility of redemption. And Even Miasma was listening...

As the ghoul swiped and prodded the masses of corpses stumbling to face Jim , they swayed and stuttered in their cries, as if halted in their footsteps… looking almost human, in the clarity behind their once cloudy eyes. Blinking even. The dead and things forming from the earth, wove in and around the ones who listened, and their features began to change. Taut leathery skin slacked and sagged but lay more supple upon their gaunt features.

Shattered bones and cracked fissures separating one bone from another healed and came together, bones and flesh began to mend, and even as Miasma still had to fight hard, ever on his toes, there was a rhythm to the movements he made. He found a sure footedness he could confidently maintain. And the unexpected shove and grappling attempts made, he would handle one foe at a time.

Funny how in the moment he realized the noble way of fighting for himself, was what nobly fought for the people stumbling around, lashing out and being turned to words of comfort, and repentance.

*you can't pour from an empty cup*

Miasma thought.

Jim continued, “If you believe in miracles, in the divine, then believe in me when I say, if god so rests on the seventh day, then surely, in god’s image, you must also have your end, and at an end is there not rest?!”

Miasma could feel the shifting crowd as he continued his circling, trying to keep the group's edges from fraying. The hell fire was still closing around them but it was slowing, as if it too, was listening.

“I beseech you, right here, right now, look beyond the guilt, the blame, Your God knows of them and has clearly made you suffer for it. But there is more to God than just, justice. There is also MERCY. Deliverance, Salvation. Forgiveness. Absolution. 

[Bonnie Choses to Stay plays:]

Jim felt the white smoke and mist around him settle, as one by one the faces as he saw them at the time of their deaths began to appear. And he recognized each one, and because someone had the talent to preserve it, knew them by name. 

And as Jim recited the words of psalms from memory, every syllable uttered gained in power and conviction. As he spoke, a great tree sprung from the earth behind the congregation, and Miasma jumped, the hellfire that had been around them shoot past and into the tree, whirling and and brimming with the green light that no longer burned around them with heat infernal, but rather swayed and danced like the leaves of summer tresses, a weeping willow sighing in the breeze...

“If you would find your God now, would his cleansing fire scorch you, or warm you of the coldness settled in your hearts.” He could see the fullness of their faces, where in their eyes a prayer of hope had remained in each one. 

Jim’s voice that had been booming now took on a softer tone, gesturing to the ground he stood on, “Can a monument to the cruelties of time not also be the ebenezer  raised, the miracle that comes at the end of all  suffering?

The animated remains yearned for hope. To Miasma and his sight, all he saw were hellish beings, poor devils, in rapt attention to the sound of Jim’s voice, hanging onto every word.

While Miasma was breathless, a sense of pride and accomplishment at being an author of such a bizarre and touching scene, made him almost chuckle. As Jim preached, the words he had heard so often said at the rituals and from the pulpit, came swimming to him, floating, haunting his thoughts as time moved onwards, and yet seemed to also stand still.

“The memory of your suffering will not define you, but the hope and promise of renewal, FAITH, is your salvation…Even the likes of Judas can find their way to heaven... You are but on the long road to Damascus, and struck blind to see... for without suffering how can one know peace. I call on you, for it is time now, to know of that peace...”

Miasma stood his ground, panting, his purpose, stood before him, the herd of corpses corralled around Jim, who spoke to them with such grace and compassion, reaching a hand out for their humanity to reach back.

1 LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens.

*From the pinnacle to the pit*

2 Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.

*Her acts of cruelty and her lust for blood

Makes her one of us*

3 When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

*You shine like the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky*

4 What is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?

*Holy Mother, you washeth the sin from our feet*

5 You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor.

*Under a monolith, her likeness

Marble white*

6 You made them rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet:

7 all flocks and herds, and the animals of the wild,

*An' piercing eyes emotionless

A heart so black and cold*

8 the birds in the sky, and the fish in the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas.

*Winds come on strong so help you, God

Come unleashed,*

9 LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! 

 *you're set free*

And suddenly Miasma realized why the number of the flock was off. Why there was a presence in and around every story told. There had been one last member of this flock that needed finding. That needed saving.

*Himself*

He prayed, pleading for the green fire in the tree to call out to the lost, and as he backed away from the congregation gathered at Jim's feet he heard the soft bleating sounds of the Lost. the one’s whose stories were never told…

Coming forward, drifting towards the tree line where Miasma was running was a spectre of a young woman. The opaque figure was heavy with child. Even as Jim held the attention of the crowd he too saw the visage in the shadows. The implications not lost on him. 

[Farewell plays:]

He motioned, gently parting the sea of faces as he too made his way to where the woman went no further. Miasma looked at Jim. “We have no choice, if we want to break this curse, all the troubled souls must be put to rest. Even this one..." his tone almost tender, as he saw himself in her- eyes moistened.

*Jim always came back for him. Couldn't he do the same for her?*

Jim looked at his friend, a verse in his head that repeated over and over…

*Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me*

Jim nodded and gently clapped his hands together, snapping the white smoke and mist away, the congregation paused, no longer animated, still as statues. The mist swirled ahead as they watched the woman drift off into the trees the mist following her, like a guide-rope to her every step. While they followed her, they reverently pondered on her presence in these woods...

“Of course… her name would never be in the ledger, or the photograph. Most women weren't so acknowledged at the time, and certainly not a preacher's wife. It was seen as vain." Jim muttered, shaking his head. "Such a shame it is that such stories were often left so unknown, trapped in time. Stories want to be heard, and if it curses something to achieve it then so be it...even if the story was not a happy one, it deserves to see the light..." Jim turned, putting a hand on Miasma's shoulder, stopping a moment. Miasma laid his own on top. The two companions sharing a quiet look, one filled with understanding and compassion. It was a moment that even if lost to the known world in those woods, would forever stand the test of time, in the peace it gave to each of those beating hearts.

*She considered herself damned though at her death she was harboring the life in her belly… there was a restlessness in the tense air around them..  Stemming not only from that burden, but also, that they had never been known at all.*

“Were you the one who kept the ledger” Jim called out. He had noticed the crucifix on her visage as being the same as  the one Miasma had worn and subsequently lost. The very same...

The woman sobbed softly in response, her mournful cries echoing around the trees unnerving and heartbreakingly hollow.

*... at its heart, that bloodstone…they had found it. They had found her. At last...*

Miasma thought aloud, “It makes sense doesn't it… Father Evight Vanhassel, and his wife, the  civilizing influence together as they tended the flock of sinners that worked in these woods. When the camp lost them, they lost their reason to hold on to their humanity, The Captain, The Doctor, Father Evight, and the Missing, Lady Van Hassel...such a tragedy...such a loss...But if she, her remains, I mean, are not with the other bones then-” 

“What happened to her?” Jim finished. They took a breath of the cold pre-dawn air, and strode to follow the spectre into the dark wood.

Braving the unknown, to seek the truth…

The specter led them on, floating, as if walking, stepping on stone long since worn smooth, over dips that no longer existed, through thick trees that had been thinner when she had once wandered the paths of these woods, her mournful cries and trembling voice bouncing all around them.

Their stomachs felt uneasy, like something sad and horrible awaited them. So very much like the dreams they had been having except this time, someone was leading them to the pit in which the lost had fallen…except, even the horror they knew they would face, was as valid and important to know. If it meant giving the young woman peace, who were they to deny her story to be known...

Yet, step by step, the eerie stillness surrounding them abated, giving way to the common sounds of a sleepy winter wood. The spectre appeared almost tangible now, and though the air was growing colder as she lead them farther into the wood, towards a deep fissure in the earth where a frozen creek lay still now, where the truth lay buried, and scattered, the companions felt an ease in the tension. A lift of their burdens, in carrying them together. The broken things inside them would mend, they knew. The pieces would fall into place. And soon, both Miasma and Jim stood at the edge of their triumph, facing a chasm where a ravine gaped at their approach.

The night was clear and the air rushed around them as time all at once stood still. They found themselves surrounded  in the events that lead to the curse of that wretched blood stone… carefully they descended into the ravine and trotted together through it's shallow waters that and been lost to the passage of time, following the bend until they arrive to their destination...

The woman almost seemed to sigh in relief, as they approached her lovely bones, and learned of her demise. For at last her story would be told. And all that had been lost, every last sheep of that flock, would be found again... and non would ever be left behind again...

Daylight was breaking, and as they gazed upon a conspicuous spot where she had fallen so long ago, they had tears in their eyes. The sun was once again rising in that lonely valley, dappling through the trees over this spot where the scene almost felt Holy.

A sapling had sprouted so long ago in that very place, and as the mysterious passage of time faded from view and Jim's eyes lost their powerful sight, they stood before a magnificent Willow tree, miraculously untouched by the surrounding white snow, green spring grass under it's umbrella of care.

This is what they were meant to see. A corner of the world where goodness and love remained untouched by that which corrupts it. A Holy place in the heart where faith in those one loves, and in those whom one cares, lives on forever.

Jim pulled the crucifix from his pocket.

"I, thought it was lost" Miasma said softly, admiring how it shined in the dawn light.

"Oh ye of little faith" Jim chuckled softly, his voice thick with emotion, "Despise not the small things..."

He lay the cross at the foot of the tree and a gust of wind blew through, that sigh of relief washing over them like a warm blanket, enveloping them in a grateful embrace.

"Do you think we did it? Do you think we did the right thing?"

Miasma asked, taking Jim's Hand, they stood back and watched the willow shiver and shake gently, swaying in the breeze like any other ol' tree.

Jim removed his shoes. Miasma did the same.

Feet on the hallowed earth they stood hand in hand.

"Yes," Jim replied, giving the ghoul's hand a squeeze. He turned to see his friend, face upturned to the sunlight, eyes closed, a soft smile playing on his features as he basked in the feeling all around them.

"Yes angel," Jim said once more, "I suppose we did."

"Hm." Miasma smiled, feeling as if in the glow of the morning, he had wings.

*... he was free...*

[heyftinally]

On the topic of "Queer Enough"

So recently a friend of mine attempted to go to a local queer weekend retreat, and had a throughly awful time.

It wasn't because he got misgendered.

It wasn't because of poor planning.

It wasn't because of accessibility issues (although those were heavily present).

No, his primary issue was that he wasn't "queer enough" to be included in many discussions.

He's not your mental image of a technicolor neopronouns fuck-the-binary queer. He's just a guy. A guy who likes traditional architecture and Robert Frost poetry and classic literature and dressing as classically masculine as possible.

And he felt completely out of place.

Nobody would go talk to him, they just wanted to hang out with the groups they already knew.

All of the discussions scheduled were about polymory, social justice, and activism - not bad topics, but no alternatives were offered for monogamous people or people who wanted a mental break from heavy social justice topics.

And the more he talked about it, the more I realized how often I see this happening, both online and in person.

Y'all want to say "more weird queers", and we already know you can't be normal about the queers you have now, but you also can't be normal about the exceptionally ordinary queers.

Right now, it seems like we have one acceptable way to be a few different flavors of queer:

If you're a gay man, you have to be either glowingly flamboyant or just barely restraining it.

If you're a gay woman, you have to be hyper femme, have unnaturally colored hair, and a "take no shit" attitude. Also be HEAVILY into sex, and have absolutely zero shame about voicing that opinion loudly and often.

If you're trans, you're either uwu soft or a borderline bodybuilder with a "take no shit" attitude, and you have to conform to binary beauty standards UNLESS you go as absolutely bonkers yonkers and take androgyny to 100 - but the colorful version. Neon pink beard, a suit jacket over a dress, and dripping with glitter.

If you're nonbinary, you have to be as gender weird and androgynous as possible. Extra "validity" points for being the aforementioned color/glitter explosion.

And there's nothing WRONG with being this kind of queer - it's fantastic if that's how you feel true and empowered!

But the fact that we've somehow regressed in our own community acceptance of "boring" queers is both sad and detrimental. ALL of us should feel welcome in our community - the walking pride parades, the "jim from accounting"s, and everyone in between.

So this is my shout out to the "boring" queers. The "just a guy"s and "just a woman"s, and "idk, I'm just me"s. You are queer enough. You are wanted in our community, and you belong here. Whether because you have to fly under the radar for safety, or you simply just enjoying being "Tanya who manages the Stop-n-Go" and nothing more, you are queer enough.

You always have been, and you always will be.

And to the rest of our community, let's do better about welcoming everyone.

If you're part of a queer space - online or irl - say hi to the new person who shows up. Start up a conversation with them. Introduce them to someone else who has a similar interest as them. Be kind. Community mean you and me, AND them, and her, and him, and xir. All of us. Equally.

[dailycharacteroption]

Green Scourge (Druid Archetype)

(art by Jim “Dreadjim” Ling on Artstation)

It can sometimes be hard to remember with all the heroic and not-so-heroic violence of the game that divine casters, at their cores, are usually something of guides and protectors. Even an evil cleric protects their flock, even if it is only for selfish reasons of power or to sacrifice them later, to say nothing of a paladin’s goal as a protector first. Druids too are protectors, albeit mostly of nature itself.

However, every divine order has it’s exceptions that focus on destroying the foes of what they protect over directly protecting them, which may or may not lead to problems if their laser focus on that goal undermines the ultimate goal of protection or doing what is right by their estimation. We’ve seen this represented in archetypes before, and today, it’s a druidic one!

The so-called Green Scourges are the hunters of the unnatural, particularly aberrations. Whether they are mutants spawned from some corruption, alien lifeforms that disrupt the balance as any invasive species might, or an outright blight on nature itself, these scourges seek to destroy them and other similar blights such as undead, oozes born of foul magic such as actual blight oozes, and so on.

They might be encouraged to do so by more militant orders or by orders large enough to warrant having specialized subgroups within, or they might be loose cannons whose power is shaped by they ways they wish to use it, making their elders worry that they’ll go too far.

In any case, the result is a druid that is surprisingly deadly in direct combat without having to wild shape, though they still have access to that.

While most druids are able to expend spells meant for other magic to conjure allies from the natural world, green scourges instead do so to arm themselves, either turning a simple wooden weapon into a deadly implement, on conjuring forth a sword-like projection of fire. While this is all simple druidic fare, where this gets interesting is their ability to expend higher magic to get even more powerful weaponry, adding base enhancement and magical abilities to these supernatural weapons to fit the situation. What’s more, if they add an enchantment that adds elemental damage to a flame blade, the blade itself becomes that damage type, allowing them to wield blades of frost or lightning. However, there is a baseline cost in the spell level increase, so don’t expect to become too powerful too quickly. Also, note that the list of possible enchantments, while effective, is a bit limited, with aberration bane being the only option, and the list being a bit short overall.

They also train in recognizing aberrations and their signs of their passing, to better combat their foe.

Though they specialize in fighting aberrations, sometimes it is good to be hidden from a variety of foes. As such, these druids learn how to suppress their own scent, hiding it from foes that might detect them.

Just as other druids are resistant to plants and the fey, these mystic warriors tune their resistance to be against their hated aberrant foes.

This archetype is interesting. While it is clearly focused on aberrant foes, it is not so specialized as to be unusable against everything else. Moreover, this archetype begs for you to create a melee druid build that can do so not just with wild shape, but in their true form as well. With that in mind, your feats should dive into that as much as you can, while your daily spells should probably be a mix of support for that as well as variety for the challenges of the day, including combat spells that help inhibit foes before wading into combat. Also consider whether you want a domain that can buff you further, or a companion to flank with.

There are plenty of reasons to want aberrations dead, seeing them as a threat to the natural order, personal tales of revenge, and so on, but something to remember is that not all aberrations are necessarily unnatural or harmful, such as flumphs. Does your character make that distinction? Might that be part of their character development?

Despite their serpentine forms, nagas are considered aberrant creatures, which marks them for purging by the druidic guardians of Velshaka Rainforest. As such, any naga venturing into the jungle from their empire is sure to bring strong nagaji bodyguards with them in case of ambush.

When reports surface of a humanoid mole-like creature, Gevos of the Circle of the Scourge arrives seeking to destroy whatever unnatural mutant has crawled forth, but what he fails to realize is the creature is a muldnal, an agathion from the upper planes. Can the benevolent celestial convince the druidic assassin of his good intentions, or will he need help from goodly allies?

When the outlanders came from across the sea, they brought with them their faith, one that gave reverence to beings from beyond the starts, which they called upon to aid them with their many eyes and mouths. However, the indigenous people of the land have a response, orders of wise ones who command nature and bring it’s wrath down on upon the invaders and their monstrous bedfellows

[byneddiedingo]

Affliction (Paul Schrader, 1997)

Cast: Nick Nolte, James Coburn, Sissy Spacek, Willem Dafoe, Brigid Tierney, Jim True-Frost, Holmes Osborne, Mary Beth Hurt, Marian Seldes. Screenplay: Paul Schrader, based on a novel by Russell Banks. Cinematography: Paul Sarossy. Production design: Anne Pritchard. Film editing: Jay Rabinowitz. Music: Michael Brook. 

[malcontentmathador]

Good info is famously hard to find in the SMT community. The wiki is not the best and a lot of misinfo tends to be spread around, repeated, and never corrected, creating long lasting myths that are often inaccurate or untrue ("sacrificing Pixie's descendant prevents you from getting Uber Pixie"; this is just not true!)

So I thought today I would describe some places where you can get more reliable information if you are interested in mechanics and details :) My focus is on Nocturne here but many of these sources are multi-game.

Dataminers and romhackers are, of course, the first people to turn to. For Nocturne, Zombero, the creator of Hardtype, has written a lot about stuff he's found in the code, on his blog and in Gamefaqs threads.

Robin and Zephyr is a Youtube channel which discusses many game mechanics and which frequently makes use of Debug tools to properly investigate claims.

This Steam thread has a lot of good information that, as far as I have seen, is consistently verified in-game and by other sources (formulas and calculations are consistent with the first 2 sources).

Aqiu384 is a database that contains tons of information about almost every game in the series. Depending on the game, the level of detail may differ; but again it is consistently verified by other references.

Speedrunning communities are always a fantastic source of information; these people play the game more than anyone else and often find and test new info properly. A ton of small data things can be found by digging through discord channels. For SMT, you can find this discord here.

The japanese atwiki. I am less familiar with this ressource, but it seems to be trusted by speedrunners quite a bit, and it seems to have made precise predictions that turned out to be true - like the existence of a room in 4th layer of the Sun in which Jack Frost is more likely to spawn.

My personal favorite: Jim Reaper's YT channel video descriptions. Jim has done a ton of crazy hard challenges and often includes notes on AI behaviour or game oddities in his descriptions. For instance, he was the first person I've seen to mention very obscure mechanics about skill changes in Nocturne, like the fact that the chance for a demon's skill to change seems to diminish if it has already had a skill change already!

Of course, it's completely possible that I missed inaccuracies in this stuff myself or that otherwise reliable people may be wrong. Please don't just take my word for it and have a good look for yourself :)

[claireandacat]

Well, this is going to be my personality for the rest of my life…

I like to call myself a cinephile. I love movies and I love that even though it’s difficult for folks with ADHD can’t really sit through one, somehow I can. Unless it’s a chick flick, I cannot get into cheesy af romance.

I’ve always loved movies as a child all the way until present day adulthood. I don’t have any school or studying I gotta do so ever since graduating medical assistant school I’ve been trying to find “adult” hobbies for the past year and a half.

The one that sticks the most is watching movies.

I don’t know why. Maybe because I love analyzing the story, filmography, acting, choice of cast, music of a movie and really just digging deep and discovering the meaning, the writing, symbolism etc. plus I can kick back and have a gummy or seltzer and cuddle with my cat, if he wants to join he never does.

Maybe it comes from my dance background. I mainly danced ballet, contemporary and modern and usually those dance types are expressive. There is a method of adding feelings and emotions with your movement to convey or tell a story with the music and choreography.

Maybe I just love getting sucked into a good story and with reading you gotta pay attention with the words and details and that gets difficult for not only someone who is ADHD but is also a dyslexic. Movies are purely visual and everything folds out in front of you.

My neurospicy self has been comparing and contrasting almost everything I’ve come across for the past couple years. Well, most my life more like it but this time my brain more developed and can really think about all sides more clearly. I’ll compare the simplistic and most random of things. Since I started working in healthcare I’ve been noticing trends, behaviors and habits of each generation.like for example, I’ve noticed boomer men are very dependent on their wives. They don’t know what meds they’re on, what for and the dose but their wives do. They tend to have certain expectations of how things run. If there is a long wait at the urgent care due to understaffing, they will let me know and give me attitude as if it’s my fault the place is understaffed or we had to stop taking patients back for a bit because EMS was called. Gen X and beyond tend to have a lot more grace if it’s something we cannot fix in a second.

I will say all this comparing and contrasting really does exercise the mind. Or maybe it’s just my neurospicy mind making sense of everything.

I JUST LOVE MOVIES OKAY?

And I am noticing lately that when watching movies that I’m really watching it and admire it in every single way.

An example would be with Oppenheimer. When the day of the trinity test comes, there is this gradual intensity that plays out and you can FEEL this intensity as the team is getting ready for this test bomb. The music is frosting on the cake because just like the whole scene, it too gradually gets more intense. Then they press the button. It’s a beautiful montage of flames and explosions in PURE SILENCE. I cannot explain the beauty of the flame animations and pure silence after such an intense moment. It’s like a relief.

I of course have to mention Wes Anderson when it comes to scenes that just feel so complete to me. Wes also knows how to add charm and bits of comedy. One of my favorite is the part of The Grand Budapest during the prison break and they retrieve the long latter and you know it’s long because it’s coming across the screen in more than a few frames, but after those few frames you know and get the idea this is a long latter.

Or in 28 Days Later there’s a certain beauty and eerie-ness of seeing Jim, Cillian Murphy’s character walking around an abandoned post apocalyptic London wondering what the hell just happened after he has woken up from a coma in a different world.

The movie Rush which is based on a true story, has to be my favorite rivalry story. The two main protagonists start out as typical rivals, ones more reserved and the other is more proud and experienced. As the story plays out, Niki Lauda starts winning as these races while James Hunt starts to struggle. This tug of war ends when Niki gets into an awful accident during a race. I won’t spoil too much so I’ll stop myself but In the end, they become eventually friends.

I love movies. I love finding beauty in them. I love thinking about the significance and symbolism of certain scenes. I could go on all day. Thank you for reading my rambling.