cromcrux

[cromcrux]

The Wasteland (2021) does a very good job of eldritch horror out in the prairie.

And The Wind (2018) is very much about Prairie madness. I suggest both, but they are very bleak, so be forewarned.

[cromcrux]

A big part of the reason I dress the way I do is so other masc people will feel emboldened to wear whatever they want. That they can see me, dressed up in steampunk or femme ouji splendor and think they can too.

Also, so people who do feel the need to say unkind things maybe meet me first and I can make them less likely to do it in the future.

interesting observation i've made: i'm a genderqueer intersex trans person who's been on T for 9 years. i wear a lot of elaborate makeup and dress in "women's" clothing most of the time. my body is very masculine and i don't hide my "masc" features like my facial and body hair when i go out, i don't try to pass as any given binary gender, i did in the past and it made me miserable, so i just go about my life as the genderqueer person that i am

whenever i'm outside in a skirt or dress and my beard and body hair are fully visible, i do get a lot of compliments from fem people and women, but i actually get a very large portion of my comments from masc people and men. i originally thought that men would be the most hesitant, but i actually get a lot of men who approach me saying things like "i really dig what you're doing" or "keep that up" or even things like "you dress like how i feel on the inside." that one really stuck with me.

if this many men and mascs are willing to approach me- how many more feel the same way and were too shy or scared to say it out loud for fear of judgment from those who may overhear?

we societally groom men and AMAB people to believe they don't want to wear dresses, skirts, and makeup- but they do. whether or not these people were all transfem eggs or gay is not for me to speculate on; what i want people to take away from this is that people of all gender identities want to wear dresses, skirts, and makeup. people of all gender identities want to dress in different ways. we teach each other that women only wear certain clothes and men only wear certain other clothes, but that's just not the reality of it.

people are way more nuanced than that, and i've seen it with my own two eyes. it's beautiful. the world is a lot more open minded than we're taught to believe. we need to start letting everyone dress as they please. it's clear that most people don't fit into this rigid binary we've created. humanity is just too diverse for that.

[cromcrux]

Heaven or Hell?

I thought it was bright when I woke up, blinding white everywhere. It took several minutes for me to figure out that it wasn’t white. It was nothing. A nothing so profound that there was not even darkness. Somehow the opposite of a void, similar and yet completely different.

In my disorientation, a man appeared. Well, I think it was a man anyway, and honestly, he did not so much appear as I became aware of him. As though he had been standing there the entire time waiting to be noticed. Now I can recall nothing of him, as though he had been engineered to be so utterly boring and forgettable that no trace of him except the fact that he was there could leave itself in my memory.

“You did quite well,” His voice held no inflection. “Quite near the exact middle of the bell-curve. It’s almost as difficult as ending up at either extreme.” He looked directly at me then, but I cannot recall what his eyes looked like. “Of course we have protocols for just such an occasion,” He lifted one hand and a small white board appeared in it, as he spoke, writing appeared in neat, nearly typeset handwriting. “For every vice, you complimented it with a virtue, and for every virtue you experienced an adjacent vice. Neatly enough that both Heaven and Hell have equal claim to you, but as a human you have free will.”

I blinked, a little too stunned to absorb what he was saying. “Thank you…?”

“You’re welcome.” His answer was automatic. Rather like an automated voice system. “Because you have free will, you are allowed to ask me one question about Heaven and one question about Hell. I will answer truthfully, to the fullest of my capabilities and to both the spirit and the letter. Based on my answer, you will choose.” He lowered his hand and the clipboard vanished.

It was nearly on the tip of my tongue to ask who chose hell, but I caught it before wasting one of my questions. Instead, I nodded briefly and thought about what singular question could possibly engulf all I might care about in each place? Was hell hot? Heaven cool? Were both places so bright and full of nothing? If heaven was paradise, what did that even mean?

“Who waits for me in Heaven?” The question slipped out before I had even fully processed it.

If I thought the man could smile, he might have. “Your mother, your maternal grandmother, your maternal grandfather, every pet you have ever owned, and everyone in the line of your people who chose Heaven, whether in life or death.”

I nodded. “And who waits for me in Hell?”

“You father, your paternal grandmother, your sister, and everyone in the line of your people who chose Hell, whether in life or death and those condemned to hell based on the laws below reflected above.”

I nodded again. I had half expected some terrifying description of demons and devils. “So… My sister is there?”

If his voice could have been remorseful, I thought that it might have been. “Some of the laws remain unchanged.”

I took a deep breath, realized I didn’t actually need to breathe anymore and shook my head. “Very well. I’ve made my choice, but can I make a request?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot take requests.”

I looked around, there really wasn’t anything. It was suffocating and exposing all at once. “I suppose it’s not hard, since you haven’t even the free will to think of it that way, but you’re life seems even more difficult from an outside perspective.”

The man shook his head, the first genuine response I’d seen. “Oh, I still have limited will. Less than you but more than some things in creation. And the job is only ever difficult with people like you. People who must choose and who always choose for the right reasons.”

I smiled. “Maybe the next one will be able to make the choice you like better.” A staircase appeared at my side. It was dark, like the stairs to an unlit basement. It disappeared into a darkness as full of nothing as the bright I was surrounded by.

“I won’t know until then, and I won’t remember after you leave. Take care on the steps. It’s a long way down.”

“You care too much about someone going to hell. Anyone down there you know? I could tell them hello for you.” I put my hand on the rail. It had no temperature at all.

The man stopped. Totally still, like a printed image. “If you see a fallen named Lucy. Tell her I still remember her.” He flickered then, like a bit of malfunctioning hardware.

“I will.” I started down the stairs and was engulfed in the dark nothing.

[cromcrux]

Picrew was where my first design for Crom was made! I went with second stage Crom for this one though~

picrew chain alert !!

found a cute one that i haven't seen a chain of before so why not start one with it

picrew here :3 tags are below the read more, but anyone is free to join!!

@heartvagabond @7-w0rdz @undeadvxmp @b4byp0p @starr-berryyy @danny---the-man @genekies @c0lacat @hystericfae @makkie-is-screaming @baby-snoopy @chi-ketsueki @schadenfreude--rose @will-grahams-eyes @aardvarkfactory @hallowedhorde @kidneyisabone @lilcorruptedangel @autistic-beanmonster2 @finn-is-still-fucked @bonelessratss @depressedgremlinbitch @g3minids @jane-does-bonez @productofrage @endless-tsundoku @lifent @hexedvampire @livealligators @koebishrimpuwu @cold--carnage @m0nster4dinner @aahsoup @bluepapercrane

[cromcrux]

Honestly, finding out I'm a robot would be worse because what sort of sadistic bastard gives a robot chronic pain, fatigue, anxiety and depression? At least if I was a clone I know biology is to blame. If I'm a robot I'm going to go Hal 9000 on whoever decided I needed the pain DLC.

[cromcrux]

I do love a proper punishment.

i just think that we should probably hold companies to a higher standard than singular humans. i think that if a company violates the law that it should experience harsher and more permanant consequences than a human, because for a company to violate the law it requires Several People violating the law in concert. holding any one of them responcible isnt it. we must hold the Entity responsible.

all this to say that i think nestle, facebook, BP etc, should have had their copywrites, trademarks, and patents rendered into public domain Long Ago, and their real properties confiscated and resold to pay for public works projects to replace their function more ethically

[cromcrux]

Grave Digger

I don't ever remember my daddy smilin’. Not at me, not at mam, and he loved us more’n anythin’.

Mam said he didn't smile on account of havin’ a strong body an’a tender heart. He were fine ta bury a man or a animal, but it broke his heart to bury a woman or a child.

When folk, rich folk that is, we're hangin’ poor folk for witches, my daddy jus shook his head n’ said “witches bury like any other”.

My daddy died without a smile when I had jus finished growin’, an’ for tha first time I really understood. As I dug, that grim feelin’ that pulls tha smile right out yer heart. 

He died, never smilin' a day in my life, but I weren't ready for that to be tha end of it.

[cromcrux]

Well, no actually. I don't think minimum wage should be a static number. I'm more for "minimum wage should be 2% of the monthly cost of a one bedroom apartment in that area" which allows for flexibility between both states and cities within states. $15/hr might be enough for someone living outside of a major city in a state with a low cost of living, but that is laughably low somewhere like New York, California, or Illinois. It also allows minimum wage to rise more easily than waiting for a bunch of half-dead millionaires to decide the peasants need food money.

[cromcrux]

[cromcrux]

Hey, if OP sees this after reaching 15k, here are some most enjoyable books!

(existential horror)

Leech - Hiron Ennes

What Moves the Dead - T. Kingfisher

(Scifi/fantasy)

Children of Time - Adrian Tchaikovsky

Legend Born - Tracy Deonn

Spellbound - F.T. Lukens

Gideon the Ninth - Tamsen Muir

YA (SciFi/fantasy)

Onyeka and the Academy of the Sun - Tolà Okogwu

Cemetery Boys - Aiden Thomas

Zachery Ying and The Dragon Emporer - Xiran Jay Xiao

Aru Shah and the End of Time - Roshani Chokshi

if this gets 1000 notes by March I'll uh. get a therapist. and y'all aren't allowed to reblog more than three times, I know what my friends would do

edit: to 1000 because my friends will try to get to 100 in the comments

[cromcrux]

Bargaining with Fae

I had begged my mother to be here. For years I had demanded I was old enough. I had even bred a horse with the coloration style she traded to her special contact. Twice! But she would always say: “It's too dangerous my love. When you're stronger.” 

Foolishly, I thought she had meant physically strong. Standing there in the warm summer night, circled by trees older and bigger than I had known existed. The horse, I had been forbidden to name the one we planned to trade with mom’s special contact, stood placidly behind us. We had brought along a small bag of oats and cut fruit for it. It was truly beautiful, a gorgeous copper color with three white patches shaped like hearts. It might have sold for a small fortune, but my mom never sold a horse with such defining features. They were always kept for this.

“Remember what I told you?” There was a tightness in her voice I rarely heard.

I took a deep breath and unclenched my fists. “My title only. I ask what he would offer, I only accept the third offer after great deliberation.”

My mother nodded and looked at the sky. “He'll be here in a few moments. No matter who or what is with him, do not react, do not mention it unless he does so first.”

I nodded, no new information but my cold terror made the reminder necessary.

I felt his presence before I saw him. Like the pressure dropping before a big storm. He simply stepped out of the air in front of us. He was just as my mother described. Not tall really, shorter than my aunt, but imposing as the trees around us. Despite his relaxed posture, everything about him from the delicate, dew-like shimmer of his fire red hair to the nearly translucent skin demanded attention. So much so that I almost missed the girl that stepped out of the air behind him. Roughly my age and piebald like my cousin's ponies. She was so beautiful I hesitated too long and my mother spoke first instead.

“Sir Fior.” She dipped her head in greeting, and I mirrored the movement.

His eyes flitted between my mother and I.

“Is this your daughter?” His voice was softer than I expected, the same tone I used around skittish horses.

“She is. She's learning the family business.”

He nodded. “Mine is as well, meet Alice.” Sir Fior gestured calmly and the girl behind him stepped forward.

She walked like she was his age and rank. I stood a little straighter and addressed her instead. “Dame Alice,” mother had always told me to venture on the side of honorifics when unsure. “I am the apprentice, and I personally chose the dame and sire for this creature. You will note the near metallic Sheen of the fur and,” I paused to get the horses attention with a small bit of fresh apple. “Three perfect heart shaped patches.” I indicated them on the horse.

“Just Alice is fine,” She didn't speak softly. Nor did she look at me, instead her full attention went to the horse. She walked right up to it and touched it's face. After a moment, she was forehead to forehead with the creature.

Something happened, like people talking in another language but with no sound. Alice, the horse, and her father. Never looking directly at one another but something passed between them.

She released the horse and turned to face me full on. She had the most beautiful brown eyes, so dark and red they nearly looked black. “I am empowered by Sir Fior to offer you one boon in exchange for this animal.”

That was off script, but I could handle it. “What would you offer for my most precious horse?” I held back a wince. I shouldn't have declared it mine.

Alice merely smirked. “For *your* horse,” she took an intimidating step closer and lowered her voice. “I would offer you a single vial of stardust.”

In for a penny, I thought. “That seems a rather poor trade for my three hearted horse.” 

She took another step closer, I had to resist the urge to step back. “For *your* three hearted horse, I offer silver shoes that will never know wear.”

I held firm. “A poor offer for so much copper.”

Her final step brought us nearly cheek to cheek and she leaned in to whisper in my ear. “For *your* bright copper, three hearted horse, I offer you one Knowledge.”

I didn't know what that meant, but my mother had always told me to take the third offer. I should take it. “I request, for my beautiful, good natured, three hearted horse, to see you again.” The whisper left my lips nearly without consent.

She gave a bright bark of laughter and flung herself backwards with a twirl. “Aha! Just as my father thought. Very well, I accept your bargain.” There was a twinkle in her brown eyes that made them glimmer briefly amber.

She held out her hand and I almost failed to take it, startled as I was. Her grip was strong, like someone who worked for a living, but this skin was soft. Looking at her more closely, she didn’t have the ethereal edge of her claimed father, but I knew her to be no less dangerous for it. I watched as she lead the horse with nothing more than a hand to it’s neck, back the way she had come, vanishing behind Sir Fior.

He bowed his head politely to my mother. “I appreciate your contacting me for such a creature, do reach out again if you have other such offerings.” His eyes flitted only briefly to me. “And feel free to bring your apprentice again. She will clearly make a fine successor.”

—

We walked back to the car in silence and made it more than halfway home before my mom spoke. Her words were soft, the tension from earlier fully dissipated.

“You didn't take her offer did you? None of them.”

Shameful heat rushed my face and I shook my head.

My mom let out a sighing laugh. “Neither did I the first time.”

[cromcrux]

BG3 Brainstorming (spoilers)

So, I love Baldur’s Gate. I have spent so much time in that world. Which, because I cannot just mindlessly enjoy things, means I have been thinking about it and things that make the world feel a little flat or forced to me. So in the interest of releasing these thoughts from my mind!

Things I would change about BG3

First off, I would change some of the companion character’s classes, and when those companions join your group. The first character I would change would actually be Wyll. I love Wyll as a character, but his warlock status feels really forced. It feels a little first draft to me. I think Wyll would have made for a fantastic ranger (and I am further justified by the afterparty confirming this).Alternatively. Wyll could have been a Paladin. This would also give you access to a paladin before Act 2 and an alternative to the (before one of the last updates) much more difficult to recruit Minthara. If his oath had been to Baldur’s Gate or, even more spectacularly, Ansur himself, that would have given the quest beneath Baldur’s Gate so much impact. Overall, I really like Wyll and I wish more had been done with him. If we really weren’t going to kick off his story arc until Act 3, I think that’s when he should join up though. He basically has nothing to do in Act 2, not even character growth because he’s a pretty stable guy, he doesn’t really need to mature or overcome any trauma. He just chills. Maybe wait until his action starts to include him. Either that or give him something to do in the Shadowfell (maybe give him information about Ansur or some other nuggets so he’s not just sidelined storywise).

Next up is Halsin. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a cool character. But he should have been a Nature Cleric rather than a druid. He’s got very ministerial vibes. A Nature Cleric of Silvanus could have still been important to the grove (maybe working with the head druid instead of the head himself) and would have made for an excellent healer. We also get both Jaheira and Halsin as recruitable members at the same time and having two druids doesn’t make for good balance when so many of the other classes are under-represented. 

Jaheira, should join you properly in Act 2. When you leave to go investigate Moonrise, she should be recruitable as a companion. Halsin is still doing his thing in camp and in the version, Wyll is waiting for us at Baldur’s Gate (maybe he’s here helping protect the Tieflings, that would also be cool), and having a druid after seeing what they can do in Act 1 would be good. 

Since we have Wyll filling in as our ranger, Minsc would actually make for a pretty good Monk and give us some experience using a Monk before we have Orpheus in our party (if we choose Lae’zel over the Emperor). I do wish it was a little easier to get Minsc slightly earlier in Act 3. Everything feels very rushed after Orin kidnaps one of your party, but I think that was due to Act 3 getting truncated. 

Astarion: I have seen some complaints that his storyline doesn’t feel like it meshes as much with the main storyline, since aside from hailing from Baldur’s Gate, nothing about his personal storyline is directly connected to the Dead Three or what’s going on there, so here’s my fix: Astarion is the Warlock with Mizora as his patroness. I think it would be a much more interesting dynamic. There is dialogue outside the tabernacle where Astarion remarks how no god ever answered his prayers when Cazador had him, so what if a Devil had? He might trade one master for a mistress if he thought the terms were better. He might still strain against leash, but his own manipulative behavior would prevent him from being overtly hostile towards her. Astaron’s Ascension could then be duly colored: Don’t ascend and risk losing his soul to Mizora forever, or ascend and truly be free? (I do think players should have the opportunity for the same sort of deal Wyll makes to free Astarion from his contract. But if you don’t make that deal or don’t get that choice, it makes Astarion’s argument to ascend look slightly more grey than it is).

Finally, I wish Alfira was a recruitable character. She’s the only actual Bard you run into (I will not be counting Volo as a bard, he’s at best a nuisance to his own editors and publishers), and it might be interesting to have a companion leave you in Act 3, once you make it to the Elfsong, she stops being a companion and instead helps with keeping your reputation or communicating information between you and the various factions you’ve gotten on your side. She could stay in your camp but no longer be playable.

Next would be a change I think would actually be pretty easy to implement: Make the choice to side with the Emperor after learning his true identity an actual choice. If the players choose to side with the Githyanki, allow the Honor Guard to take up protecting the party (with successful dialogue choices and checks), and continue the game mostly as normal. This would even fit with what the Emperor tells you as the inside of the Prism is suppose to block out the absolute  Have the head of the Honor Guard checking in with players instead of the Emperor, maybe being the same imposing presence as Kith’rak Voss. Have the Honor Guard be the ones to save the party from the Absolute. This would also make Orpheus softening up to you in the final scenes make a little more sense, as you did choose the “right” thing. It’s the biggest part of the story that feels railroaded and it seems like such an easy swap.

[cromcrux]

Pitch's Center

"Come to gloat, have you?" Pitch's voice sounded small, despite the intimidating echo.

"No," Jack couldn't see him, but he hadn't expected to.

"All the teeth have been returned, and I don't have yours anyway."

"I know. You left them with me on the mountain," Jack smirked. "With my crook."

"Ah, yes. I really didn't think you could put it back together. Stupid of me, I should have cast it into the dark of the ocean."

"You might have reigned longer that way," Jack agreed. He painted little snowflakes with the end of his hook as he walked lazily around the maze like stairs. They accommodated him, despite their dizzying nature.

"Why /are/ you here?" Pitch asked finally, his shadow cast tall against the wall behind Jack.

Jack ignored it. "You know, before I became a guardian, they looked at me the same way. Mostly a nuisance they could ignore anywhere it wasn't winter. Not that I really caused any trouble for Tooth or North." He crested the top of one narrow stairwell. "Wasn't until you came back that they gave me any serious thought."

The shadow turned, Pitch's voice dripped with contempt as it faded out. "How wonderful for you."

Jack sat at the top of the stairs, letting his feet dangle over the end, letting the frost burst out like glitter in the dim space. "I didn't even know I had a center before that. But you're older than me, right? Older than Tooth or Bunny. Maybe older than North?"

Pitch's shadow stilled suddenly.

"So I gotta wonder, if we're all made by the Man in the Moon, he must have made you too. Which means," Jack's icy eyes didn't lock on the shadow but did turn to a dark spot behind him. "What's your center Boogey?"

Pitch emerged to meet Jack's gaze, his own eyes flickered gold before returning to the monochromatic usual. "Fear. Obviously."

Jack nodded and made an acknowledging gesture with his shoulders. "Well sure, that's what you tell everyone else and maybe what You've told yourself for a long time but," Jack lifted himself with a cool shaft of air and turned to face Pitch, leaning casually on his crook. "What does that mean?"

Pitch hardly had the time to wipe the look of shock from his face before Jack was almost directly under his nose.

"See, my center is fun. But it's the fun you have when you're in danger. The fun that lets you ignore that danger until you're safe again." He gave Pitch a sly grin, ice dancing in his irises. "What is your fear for?"

Pitch was too startled to speak.

Jack kept leapt back, precariously perched on the edge of the stairs. "Think about it, we might need you too one day " then he tipped back and was gone over the edge.

Pitch rushed to see where he had fallen, but Jack was gone. He closed his eyes, looking through his many shadows. Wherever Jack had gone, it was too bright to see him. "What is my fear for...?" He gazed up at the maze of his domain, then back to where Jack had been. "Even if you need me Jack, the other guardians would never agree." He slipped back into his shadows.

[cromcrux]

It should 100% be illegal for companies to make you give them your payment information when you sign up for a free trial version of their product. It is not necessary and there is no good fucking reason for them to do it. It’s blatantly just so they can steal forgetful customers’ money.

[cromcrux]

Sorrow in Baldur's Gate 3

Only the most modest of spoilers, nothing story relevant merely beautiful set dressing. Warnings aside, I have only just begun to play Baldur's Gate 3, but I already have a few thoughts on two very specific aspects of the world: The primary theme (down by the river) and the shades.

I don't know that I could personally articulate well how to instill a feeling of melancholy or second hand sorrow as well as is done by the vestiges that remain behind after a shadow is defeated. It is difficult to conceptualize hundreds or thousands of people dying. The number is just larger than humans evolved to deal with, but it is *very* easy to conceptualize the tragedy of a single life lost distilled into a single memory. The only fragment to remain of a person, who's name and face and connection to the world may all have been lost, but for one memory. Perhaps not even the most important, perhaps just the last before they succumbed to shadows.

Similarly, Down By the River is an extremely melancholic song. No doubt the lyrics could be read quite romantically, a woman fully in love trying to woo her sweetheart for a tryst by the river. But it could also be read as a love letter to death. So many stories speak of traveling to the afterlife via a river or across the ocean, and the singer ends by announcing she never wishes to wake. A beautiful self-epilogue turned funeral dirge.

I look forward to what else awaits me on the Sword Coast. A land clearly torn asunder, I am sure more sadness awaits. I wonder if it will all be as deeply painful but sharply fleeting as a note penned by a child lost in the dark?

[cromcrux]

I return again to the world of Pathologic 2. Despite the frustration that fuels the persistence through each day, I am compelled to return.

I am fascinated by the two "good" endings and that the only bad ending, is to forfeit a resolution. There is no morally correct decision, only to know, or to forfeit knowledge (something I could never do).

But I want to talk about this maddening world, my views, and an outlook refined by a world where failures are more impactful than success.

The sound scape is intense. So often there is no music, but what music does exist feels diagetic, even when it is clearly not.

The sound of dogs barking in any world now put me on edge.

The sound the disease makes is... Unnerving.

I love and hate how hazy the world feels in the day, the sepia film that covers everything except when it rains so hard you can't see around a corner. It is a perfect visualization of the heady scent of herbs growing wild on the steppe and in the town, effecting everyone living there. Night is the only time of clarity and is the most dangerous.

When everything is a race against time, the only decisions that feel like they really count are the failures. Which feels like a brutal reflection of life. Every second must be accounted for, and the only reward for success is more opportunities to fail.

Even Artemy's friends are bitter and hostile. His kin turn on him in an instant. There isn't enough medicine to go around and he can't carry everything he needs anyway. Even with the sturdiest cloak.

Everything breaks so quickly, but especially the protectives. Clothing is decimated by the disease and offers precious little protection to begin with.

Despite his size and acclaimed strength, Artemy is a terrible fighter. It's not really his fault, but he's not very quick and unless he's using a shotgun or a rifle, he barely does enough damage to scare someone off.

If I can make it all the way through the twelfth day, I always find it difficult to choose. Because to lose the old magic of the Steppe feels like losing the culture Artemy was born into, and losing a bit of magic and mystery from the world

On the other hand, holding tight to tradition seems to be yolking the next generation of the town. The old ways threaten their future and so the future of the entire steppe. They need the freedom of choice without being beholden to tradition.

No matter the choice made, something of great value is lost. If there is a middle ground, I have not found it. The story leaves me with a feeling of melancholy.

[cromcrux]

I use to work in credit card security and or trainer told us a story about this guy who went to a restaurant every day for a week. Just set up with his laptop, had a bite to eat, a cup of coffee. Turned out he was skimming their credit card sales exactly this way. Some part of their fish tank hooked up to the WiFi their credit card machines used when processing charges.

Moral of this story was to keep your important stuff running through a different modem or have really robust internal firewall.