dialectical--revolution

[dialectical--revolution]

Woag what the fuck. Someone come get their dog

[dialectical--revolution]

I think that the entire internet needs to collectively apologize to Milo Stewart because....holy shit

holy fucking shit

I remember just a few years ago I used to see people make reaction videos and comments towards Milo saying that non-binary doesn't make sense, you can only be a boy or girl, that they were confused and making things up, that they were trying to seem special, that they were crazy, constantly making fun of their appearance, misgendering them endlessly, and just...(I heard that around this time they were still a teen I'm not sure if this is correct, but if it is oh my god)

The last thing I've seen of them was a tiktok they made and honestly good to see them doing well after all these years, but it's crazy to look back and see how harshly people reacted to them

Submitted May 8, 2023

[dialectical--revolution]

Thinking about how in the mortuary assistant the body gets burned. Like is that what the families want. How do you explain that to them “oh I know you didn’t want to cremate your loved one but their body was hosting a demon and had to be burned”

How has Raymond Delver not been sued yet

[dialectical--revolution]

My sincere hope for the legacy of the game The Mortuary Assistant is that more people realize that a lot of what mortuaries (in the US especially) do to dead bodies is fucked up and unnecessary and perhaps we should change the norms of it at some point.

[dialectical--revolution]

Separated by destiny inspired by strife We are the chain that will not break

I miss you every day your smile is always on my mind your soul in my heart holding my hand

We are tied together peas in a pod holding hands in the face of adversity

Family standing strong even when we are apart. always in my mind always in my heart

Take my hand we'll brave the storm together with fear in our eyes hope in our hearts adrenaline in our veins

The storm rages on angry and red pulling us further and further downward into the darkness of the abyss

And the fight rages on swirling in an eternal circle degrading over time a fire turning to ashes ash into stardust until we fade into obscurity complicit with the stars

[dialectical--revolution]

The wind howled dangerously outside, as if the earth itself were protesting the storm. Luna Leavitt was unlucky enough to be in the lighthouse when the storm started, or was it lucky? She couldn’t quite tell anymore.

She was on a case when the sky first turned a dark shade of green. The lighthouse was in plain view, a shelter from the literal storm. Inside she noticed it was strangely abandoned. The quiet inside was almost deafening. There were books and notebooks on the shelves and the kitchen was warm.

“Hello?” she called out into the unknown. No one answered. Maybe they left in a hurry?

No, that wasn’t it. They were still there. She could feel them, their aura emanating from this place. Luna’s most guarded secret was that she was an “empath”; she could feel the energies and emotions of others. It was something she kept to herself, lest she be mocked by her coworkers.

She could feel it now, the eyes on the back of her head. The wind shook the building, putting her a tad on edge. The air inside was old and stagnant. Her eyes were dry and painful from the lack of tears. Every step led to a dangerous creak in the wooden floor.

“Who’s there?” she called out into the dark unknown. The presence there was unmistakable. She knew she was not alone. There was someone, something lurking in the shadows. She just didn’t know who, or what.

She closed her eyes and tried to pinpoint their location within the structure. She was met with confusion, instead.

Damn, I was so close, she thought

As she began to search each room the feeling of being watched became stronger and more intense. Her gift of empathy was becoming more and more accurate with each and every step. Their emotions like a heartbeat, infiltrated her very being. She kept her senses sharp, waiting for a clue as to their location.

She took a deep breath. It calmed her nerves, a little. The feelings she felt were scattered but powerful. They were there, waiting in the shadows. She could feel them. The wind continued to howl outside, and it was messing with her concentration. Still, she was determined to find whoever was in the shadows waiting for her.

Trying to appear as less of a threat, she moved forward. Each step groaned and creaked with exertion. ‘Let’s just get this over with.’ The air was charged, as if electricity flowed through it.

Then she saw her; in the corner, a child. Her small form was shaking with the storm. She was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She couldn’t have been more than five years old.

Luna closed her eyes softly, trying to make a connection without words. Tears filled in the little girl’s brown eyes. They were so desperate and at the same time, so lost. Her chestnut hair hung in clumps around her dirty face. It was as if the poor thing had gotten lost on her way home when the storm began.

“Hello,” Luna said with a gentle softness. “What’s your name?”

“Melody,” the reply was so quiet against the raging storm. Her teeth chattered from the cold and the rain. Her hair, tangled and unkempt. She was scared, she was dirty, and she was clearly no threat.

“Who exactly were you running from?” Luna asked sternly. She wanted to get the little girl some help. Even if all she was able to do was get her warm, dry and safe from the elements and whoever had the child so petrified.

“I don’t know,” the little girl’s voice barely registered. “They were in the shadows; I didn’t get a good look at them.” She was trembling with fear. Whatever had scared her, it was still there. She could feel it.

“It’s okay,” she spoke. “I’m not here to harm you. Please, just tell me what happened here.” The wind began to subside. She could finally hear herself think.

The frightened sobs of the child brought her back to reality. The candlelight illuminating her tear stained eyes. She’d seen it all: rape victims, murder…but something about the child brought her to her knees.

“Listen,” she said with a gentleness. “I’m going to keep an eye on you. Don’t you worry about that. Where are your parents? Are they here, too?”

She had to admit, the child pulled at her heart strings. The little girl reminded her of her sister, Valkyrie. Val, for short. They had grown apart through the years but Luna still kept the memories of her little sister close.

“They’re gone,” Melody sobbed. “They left to get food and they never came back.”

Luna wrapped her arms around the small, fragile child. “Don’t worry, I’m here,” she said in a calming voice. “I’ll protect you. Stick with me and I’ll help you find your parents.”

“I don’t think they’re coming back,” Melody sobbed. She grabbed onto Luna’s leg, refusing to let go.

Luna crouched down. Melody reminded her so much of Val when she was younger. All she was missing was the platinum blonde hair and grayish blue eyes. And the attitude.

It was at that point that she took the child’s hand. “I won’t leave you,” she promised. “Tell me everything you know about them. We’ll fix this, together.”

Together.

“I miss them,” Melody whispered softly into her ear. “I wish they would come back.” She looked out into the great unknown, feeling eyes on the back of her head. She tried to use her “gift” (if one could call it that) to zone in on the features of the being, but she had no such luck. Whoever they were, they knew how to hide.

Well, they couldn’t hide forever. Sooner or later, she would find them.

No matter what, she would help Melody at all costs. For her sister, for Val.

Note:

This is based on a prompt from reedsy. I may or may not turn it into a full story. Depends on how motivation and inspiration move me. I based the main character off one of my nephews. His name is Luna. Weird, I know. But that’s my family.

[dialectical--revolution]

The prison cell was chilled and damp. I couldn't remember what time it was, but I knew it was late.

We had been arrested. Picked up and thrown away for being "different". Sigh. Humans were SO TYPICAL. Anyone who was different was judged, spit on, and tossed aside. It was the typical human experience.

Which is why I always tried to hide my powers from others. Why I always wore contacts when I was around people I didn't know. They disguised my now golden eyes from the judgemental public. People always freaked when they saw my glowing eyes. Luckily, they only changed color when I became overwhelmed with emotion. Emotions like anger and fear.

When my eyes changed color, my powers were active. I became a siren, my sonic scream tearing through the night. People called me blonde siren or “Golden Girl”. Golden Girl was my favorite.

My powers…I never fully understood them. I could burst eardrums and make small objects float; all with the power of sound. I was never good at science, so I had my Auntie Anna explain it all to me. She told me that sound, at certain frequencies could suspend objects in mid-air.

And sound at high enough decibels could kill or harm a person. I remember Auntie Anna thought that was “cool” and “fascinating”. I thought she was weird. I’m sorry; I loved my aunt, but she was a weirdo.

I realized my powers firsthand the night my aunt was attacked. It was a dark night, and the power was out yet again. My Aunt, lacking common sense, decided to venture out in the darkness.

I was watching from above.

I was watching from the top of a factory building. Due to her health issues, I always followed her wherever she went. It was my way of telling her “Thank you” for all the times she was there for me.

The muggers seemed to come out of nowhere. At least, that’s how it seemed to me. It was so dark but they moved so quickly. It was like they were “ninja-fast”. It was when they surrounded her that I came down from above. My eyes were glowing gold and when they called me a “freak”, that’s when I screamed.

The muggers grabbed their ears and fell to the ground. They vomited and then they fell unconscious. Crouching on the ground, I turned to my Aunt. She was unconscious, too.

I touched my ears: no blood. I looked at my Aunt; her ears were bleeding, too. Just like the muggers.

Why was I the only one unaffected? Did it have something to do with my powers?

I had one of my friends help me get her home. Ever since, I was careful not to use my powers around her for fear of hurting her. When she woke up, she was still in shock about how much everything changed. Then she told me she had powers, too. If she concentrated really hard, she could literally disappear.

Like me, she was just a shell of the person she once was.

***

“Do you know how long we’ll be in here?” I asked my Aunt. I was hoping for a rational, calm answer from her. She was silent for a while, then she spoke.

“I don’t know,” she said. She looked up and nodded. “Why don’t you ask him?”

I turned to look at the Military personnel. One in particular stood out: the Major. He looked at us in disgust. He was the one who arrested us. He came to our home and took us in. Sigh. He must have heard about the muggers. Figures. In this new world, it didn’t matter what the situation was. Just being ���different” was enough to be taken in.

“Hey, asshole,” I asked him. “When the fuck are we getting out of here?” He looked at us with total and complete disgust. That was typical behavior for people nowadays. They only looked at us when they needed us. We were a rare commodity, one of the chosen few to survive a disaster. We were both feared, and the ones people looked to as a saving grace during the war.

We were a precious commodity, super soldiers. Our country LOVED to insert itself into foreign politics. You know, the kinda stuff that wasn’t our business. Wars, disputes, you name it. We were running out of soldiers; meta-humans were the next choice. People didn’t care much for us, but they needed us.

I hated them for it.

“You’re not getting out of here,” he said with a commanding tone. “We need you for the war. You’re a necessary evil.”

Necessary evil. That’s all we were now. Not people, just machines used for fighting wars. Well, fuck em’.

Fuck em’ all. They were the real monsters, here. Not us.

“If we’re evil, " Auntie Anna began. “Then what does that make you?”

“Yeah,” I countered. “I was wondering…how does someone who is supposed to be saving the human race get to be such an asshole?”

That really pissed him off. He looked right into my soul with a hatred I couldn’t quite place. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to scream.

I quickly winked at my Auntie. It was my way of letting her know that she needed to cover her ears. I would never forgive myself if she got hurt again.

I let loose a scream. It was somewhere between a moan and a shriek. A banshee; it sounded like a banshee. It rocked through the whole room, knocked “Major Asshole” back up against a wall, and everything went dark.

[dialectical--revolution]

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless it impacts your work performance…

Or your grades

Or how you act

Or if it causes you to say no

Or if you’re harder to be around

Or if you need time alone

Or if you talk about it

Or show symptoms

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless you have trauma

Unless you have one of those “scary” mental illnesses

Unless it inconveniences me

Unless you’re undiagnosed

Unless you cry or scream or make a scene

Unless you don’t keep that shit to yourself

Unless you make me uncomfortable

Unless I can’t infantilize or fetishize you

Unless you have hallucinations

Unless you have psychosis

Unless you get angry

Unless I think you’re cringe

Unless you can’t preform hygiene tasks

Unless you’re disabled, or trans, or gay, or not white, or fat, or AFAB, or intersex, or a man… so I guess anyone

“It’s okay to not be okay”

As long as nobody ever finds out.

Our society has a severe issue with performative activism, and mental health is a huge example of this. Every time someone considers reaching out, they run through this list mentally. This is why true activists and resources need to be loudly supportive of all the things on this list. Take the subtext out of your support.

[dialectical--revolution]

Ah, the past. I was never much a fan of it. All the fucked up shit all the anger, the rage, the pain

It seeps inside you Takes away your humanity and steals your soul

After everything I went through all the shit, the pain, I didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

So I ran away. I ran away from the situation. I ran away from life. But it didn't do shit It just made things worse

[dialectical--revolution]

Physical / Appearance

Height? - 5'7. I get my height from my mom's side of the family.

Weight? - Not telling! Okay, around 130 lbs. It's not like I obsessively check my weight or anything...

Build? - athletic. I do a lot of cheerleading, and track and field.

Hair colour? - Medium light blonde.

Hair style? - It depends on my mood. Sometimes I wear it up in a ponytail, sometimes I wear it down. All depends on what I'm doing.

Eye colour? - Hazel, normally. When I get stressed or scared my powers kick in and my eye color changes to orange.

Eye Shape? - Round and wide.

Glasses or contact lenses? - Sometimes I wear contact lenses with my natural eye color when I'm trying to pass as a "normie" in a human zone. Humans can be quite prejudiced.

Distinguishing facial features? - How about my eyes that turn orange when I get scared or pissed? That's a tad distinguishing!

Which facial feature is most prominent? - I have an adorable nose. Or so I'm told.

Which bodily feature is most prominent? - Scars on my arms. I don't like to talk about it, though. I went through a lot of shit. Sometimes it takes a toll.

Other distinguishing features? - Besides the eyes and the scars...not much else I can think of.

Skin? - irradiated and scarred. Though the radiation burns and scars have mostly healed. They are very faint now.

Hands? - Covered with faint radiation scars.

Make up? - Heavy to cover up the scars. Even though they're faint, they're still there.

Scars? - Yes. From radiation poisoning and self-harm. I don't know how I'm still alive after all this time.

Birthmarks? - Just faint radiation scars.

Tattoos? - I plan to get some soon.

Physical handicaps? - None. In fact, I'm more than human now.

Type of clothes? - Before the accident, I wore pink; lots of pink. Now my alter ego has kicked in and I wear leather jackets, a white tank top, and torn light jeans. Sometimes I wear the pink bomber jacket my "moms" got me.

How do they wear their clothes? - I used to wear them tight and revealing now they are ripped from fights and wear and tear.

What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc) - I wear boots now. Before the accident I wore adorable pink shoes. My feet are dirty from fights and running around barefoot.

Race / Ethnicity? - A little scottish, a little Passamaquoddy, a little Nordic on my dad's side.

Mannerisms? - I tend to talk with my hands...and my fists. I have been told I have a REAL attitude problem.

Are they in good health? - Good, considering I survived a nuclear attack!

Do they have any disabilities? - I have ADD and some dissociative issues.

[dialectical--revolution]

Note: Gifs are mine. I made them because Killer Frost is a little like my original character in my story.

Basic Character Questions

First name? - Lena. Lena means "light" and my mom and Auntie always said I was a piece of light in the darkness.

Surname? - Danvers. It's not my "real" family. Er, my birth family. I was adopted when I was 8 years old. It's a wound that hasn't healed yet.

Middle names? - Rose.

Nicknames? - People sometimes call me "Lee" for short.

Date of birth? - 2015; it is now 2031.

Age? - 16 years old.

[dialectical--revolution]

Basic Character Questions

First name? - Anna

Surname? - Shenkov

Middle names? - Maria

Nicknames? - Annie

Date of birth? – 1989

Age? -41 years old.

[dialectical--revolution]

[dialectical--revolution]

Physical / Appearance

Height? – 5’7. Taller than my Auntie Anya. Drives her crazy but at least I can reach the high stuff.

Weight? – 130 lbs. Yeah…I work out.

Build? – athletic.

Hair colour? – medium light blonde

Hair style? – long straight and parted in the middle. Sometimes I throw it back into a ponytail when I go running, do cheerleading, and cross country.

Eye colour? – Hazel, originally. After the accident with the bomb…I changed. I turned into some kind of mutant and my eyes changed color whenever I got upset. Intense emotions…adrenaline…according to my Auntie. They would flash orange and that’s when you knew you were REALLY in trouble.

Eye Shape? – Round and wide.

Glasses or contact lenses? – None. Sometimes I wear contacts when I’m stressed out to hide my status as a metahuman. Nowadays, people aren’t a fan of metas. Especially witches and vampires. Witches want their abilities and vampires see them as a threat. Humans fear them and demons want desperately to BE them.

Distinguishing facial features? – My painted-on mask when I’m out hunting for trouble. I don’t want people to know who I am. But I also like doing my makeup.

Which facial feature is most prominent? – My deep orange eyes that flash when I’m angry or feel intense.

Which bodily feature is most prominent? – The scars on my arms: radiation and self-harm. I’d get into these dissociative “trances” and cut. The worst part was, I wouldn’t even know I was doing it.

Other distinguishing features? – Faded radiation scars. It’s what happens when you’re “reborn” in the most horrifying way possible.

Skin? – Scarred and pale, but still beautiful. This is according to “Jack”.

Hands? – Soft and pale.

Make up? – Heavy and dark when I’m out at night. I tend to wear a mask around my eyes that I paint on myself. Hey! I like makeup and watching makeup videos. I’m usually the guinea pig when I experiment for myself but sometimes it’s my brother, too.

Scars? – From trances and from radiation. I don’t even remember how I got them half the time.

Birthmarks? – None. Though I consider them to be marks of my “rebirth”.

Tattoos? – Pleeenty to cover up the radiation scars.

Physical handicaps? – None.

Type of clothes? – I like bomber jackets and ripped jeans. Also pink…lots and lots of pink.

How do they wear their clothes? – Ripped jeans. Dark clothes when out at night. Dark eye makeup to accentuate my bright orange eyes. I tend to wear skirts when I’m out fishin’ with my aunt and uncle.

What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc)

Race / Ethnicity? – a little Scottish, a little Scandinavian on my dad’s side, and a little Passamaquoddy on my mom’s side. It’s weird, I know. I don’t look it at all.

Mannerisms? – I tend to be very dramatic and like to punch things. A lot. I have a lot of anger from being ripped away from my family so young.

Are they in good health? – Yes unless you count my issues from my past. Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally, I’m a wreck. Cutting and not remembering it, anger issues…I’m a star citizen.

Do they have any disabilities? – Just the emotional crap.

[dialectical--revolution]

Basic Character Questions

First name? - Lena

Surname? - Danvers

Middle names? - Rose

Nicknames? - Lee

Date of birth? - 2015

Age? - 15

[dialectical--revolution]

Physical / Appearance

Height? – 5’7

Weight? – 130 lbs

Build? - athletic

Hair colour? – medium-light blonde.

Hair style? – Straight and long. I usually wear it held back in a ponytail to keep the hair out of my face. Y’know, because I’m in track and field.

Eye colour? – hazel with flecks of amber and gold originally. After the bomb dropped my eye color would change according to intense emotions. When I got angry, they would change to a shade of deep orange.

Eye Shape? – Round and wide.

Glasses or contact lenses? – Sometimes I wear contacts to pass as “human”. But when I’m out there helping others and want to hide my identity I wear glasses that were specially made by my teammates to help register other metas.

Distinguishing facial features? – fake eyelashes, faded radiation burns, and dark eye makeup.

Which facial feature is most prominent? – my orange eyes. They tend to flash orange when I am angry.

Which bodily feature is most prominent? – all my radiation scars. I tend to cover them up with concealer. However when I sweat a lot they become more visibly apparent.

Other distinguishing features? – self harm scars from being a messed-up teenager. I’d cut myself during my dissociative trances.

Skin? – scarred, pale, and soft.

Hands? – soft and delicate despite doing a lot of sports (cheerleading and track/field).

Make up? – heavy and dark to hide my features. Hey! I gotta look good out there, you know?

Scars? – scars from self-harm during dissociative trances and radiation burns.

Birthmarks? – none. Though I count the burns as a way of being reborn. Radioactive fallout sucks.

Tattoos? – I have many to cover up the scars.

Physical handicaps? – None unless you count the physical and emotional scars. Dissociation…? Check. That often comes in during training sessions.

Type of clothes? – I wear tank tops, bomber jackets and ripped jeans. My evil twin seems to favor black leather.

How do they wear their clothes? – I favor tank tops, jeans, and anything that subtly shows off my excellent figure. Hey, I look good. I’m not ashamed.

What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc) – I wear combat boots during patrols, girly socks, my feet go from dirty to pristine. But, I always take care of them…unlike my auntie. No offense, auntie Anya.

Race / Ethnicity? –  I am Scottish and have some Scandinavian blood in there somewhere. Also am part native American. I just don’t look it. At all.

Mannerisms? – I tend to be dramatic and loud. And I’m not alone in the blood family.

Are they in good health? – Healthier than I should be considering I got a good dose of radiation. Also considering that I was close to an antimatter bomb.

Do they have any disabilities? – I have dissociative lapses due to trauma and issues with anger.

[dialectical--revolution]

Basic Character Questions

First name? - My name is Lena. I was named that because my mom thought it sounded "pretty". My Auntie thinks it suits me because I truly am a "ray of light" in the darkness to her.

Surname? - Danvers. I was adopted at age 9. Long story.

Middle names? - Rose. It fits because I am a huuuge girlie girl.

Nicknames? - People call me "Lee" when they are strapped for time.

Date of birth? - September 7th, 2014

Age? - 15 years old.