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mutable-manifestation · 5 months

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Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 4

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

Explaining The Papers (™) to Frostbite takes a While (also ™).

Though with no more imminent threat of “Vlad maybe finding out he’s the ghost king and becoming Insufferable (also also ™) about it” Danny was feeling a lot less stressed - Sam and Tucker, too, if the fact that they were actually drinking their tea now instead of just barely sipping at it was any indication - or they could’ve only just cooled enough to actually drink, the FF did tend to overestimate the level of heat they could tolerate just a tad.

Not to say that he wasn’t still stressed, given the whole “the Justice League is trying to summon ME” thing. But like. They were reaching out hoping for peace, not hoping to skin/dissect/exterminate him.

Plus they don’t know how to summon him; he figures he has time. Hopefully enough to get Frostbite’s advice.

And mostly to cool his own nerves, because now that he knows they did try to help and are helping the Justice League is Cool again! And they want to meet him!

Well, they want to meet the ghost king, but they already watched him! They thought he was a capable hero!

Danny isn’t really used to getting positive feedback, so being called “good hands” by Superman - Superman! The hero! The Alien hero! (well, one of them. Martian Manhunter is also amazing but he hasn’t complimented Danny in person yet so he doesn’t have any expectations for Danny to live up to. Maybe. Hypothetically).

The JL is so cool and they think he’s cool! Or at least capable! Except now he has to impress them not just as a hero but as a king?

Yeah.

Suffice to say, Danny is now a little nervous.

(And also maybe redirecting his nerves intentionally to be about the JL so he doesn’t have to breathe into a bag about being probably the only thing between the Zone and eventual total dimensional collapse because Frostbite was very ‘this is normal and okay’ about it but it’s eventual total dimensional collapse [ALL OF THEM] and it is Danny’s problem. But no, he’s just nervous about meeting the JL. Totally.)

Reciting pretty much his whole life story - well, the basics of his parents’ work and then pretty much everything from the portal onward - gives him time to untense, and honestly, getting it all out to a mostly uninvolved third party - one he likes and trusts - really is a weight off his shoulders.

He’ll never tell Jazz; the amount of I-told-you-so-energy she’d leech into the air would be unbearable.

Sam and Tucker tag in here and there too, and mostly take over when they get to the part where the GIW bought Fenton Works for a short while to try and destroy the zone. Danny winces at the memory of his behavior back then.

The explanation runs for longer than it could have, given the aside they make when they get to his parents’ theories.

Frostbite is quick to confirm the combat-as-a-positive-social-behavior thing, and it turns out Sam is right about how to tell the difference.

Of course, Danny thinks they were all trying to kill him the rest of the way, but then that’s not a concern most ghosts have, so Frostbite offers his own perspective.

Skulker wants to hang his pelt on a wall: clearly unfriendly.

Technus is just having fun - enjoying playing with new technology in the living realm and throwing Danny around/being thrown around. He’s a friend. The whole world domination idea isn’t malicious as far as he’s concerned, because damage to the living realm doesn’t mean much to ghosts. What do they care about the living? What is the value of a single world as collateral when weighed against the games of ghosts?

If Danny wants him to stop that, Frostbite tells him, he can just propose a new game.

Ember genuinely just wanted a powerboost from the Earth that first time, but her returns since are a gesture of friendship.

Spectra definitely hates him though. Which is good. He wouldn’t know how to feel if Frostbite had said that that whole mess was an attempt at friendship.

As for the thing with his parents, Frostbite compares it to winning a tournament only to find out the other participants lost intentionally. You haven’t really won a competition if the competitors were not competing.

Like going in for a handshake only to get a “too slow” - even more insulting if it’s the first “too slow” you’ve ever gotten - Tucker suggests.

Or like asking a parent to a hug and only getting a wave. Not even a high-five.

They each go through another three cups of tea before the story winds down, Frostbite doing adding little more than the occasional nod or noise of acknowledgement - barring the social combat explanation, of course.

It’s nice, Danny thinks, to have an adult that actually listens. Even if said adult is a dead yeti.

“You have given me much to think on Great One, Friends Sam and Tucker,” he says after the three of them finally run out of words, giving each of them a nod. “And soon, we shall have much more to discuss. First, however, it seems that I have a meeting to call. And you have living needs that require attending to yet. Eat, rest, and, if you would, return here… let’s say the day after tomorrow? Then we can begin to discuss the…issues. At hand.”

Back in the Specter Speeder, Tucker wonders aloud if “call a meeting” is code for yelling at the Observants.

Then he looks at his PDA and realizes how late it’s gotten - namely, past all of their curfews - and they promptly turn the conversation to getting their story straight (and three backups because they’re all feeling paranoid with how high-stakes everything suddenly became. Not that the occasional ghost looking to wreck earth wasn't already high-stakes, but the whole political aspect made it feel... different).

***

Danny is thankful it’s summer vacation at the moment, because the next morning is a Monday.

He doesn’t know how he’d manage school with his mind miles away wondering about things like “how to king” and “how to maintain the fabric of reality” and other totally normal, non-stressful topics.

Just normal high schooler things.

His parents are gone before he’s even up, leaving a note for him and Jazz on the kitchen table.

They eat a quiet breakfast together.

The whole house is quiet. It’s unnatural, he thinks, and the small frown on Jazz’ face tells him she feels the same.

They normally enjoy the brief lulls of quiet that their parents leave behind, but this is perhaps the first time they’ve ever missed breakfast - well, the first time they haven’t been in the house during breakfast at least. A welding torch, clanging metal, clinking glass, minor explosions, and excited shouting is the usual background noise of their morning meal - whether from the basement door or at the table itself.

This time, the silence is disquieting.

Even more so since it means that Danny could, at any time, be teleported somewhere. He really should have asked Frostbite about how that works before they left - they’d already missed curfew anyway.

After they’ve both finished eating, he takes the opportunity to fill Jazz in on the whole… everything.

She is, to put it lightly, Not Impressed.

“-s bad enough they let you fight Pariah Dark in the first place! You should never have been in that position! I know that you’re a capable fighter Danny, but you’re fourteen-”

“I’m almost fifteen,” he grumbles.

“You’re not yet fifteen,” she says, glaring into the distance, expression practically snarling. Danny thinks she might be imagining strangling an Observant, based on the… choice words she’d had for them earlier. “And they want you to be a king!”

Tucker chooses that moment to arrive, walking right into the path of where Jazz is glaring and freezing until Sam shoves him out of her way to close the door and drag him into the kitchen.

“Who spat in your cereal?” she asks, moving to sit and kicking the fourth chair out for Tucker.

“Whoever or whatever is responsible for deciding that a fourteen year old child should be king when there are no doubt numerous thousand-plus year old candidates who don’t have human lives they still need to attend to!” She bellows, throwing her hands up in frustration.

The trio exchange a glance while she takes a few calming breaths.

Danny kind of wants to point out that he isn’t a child, he’s a teenager. And she’s barely older than him.

But he does have some sense of self-preservation, even if there’s only so much self left to preserve. Heh.

Then she gasps.

“Danny! You’re still half alive!”

“Er, yes?”

“Maybe that’s why the Watching Wraiths didn’t say anything! Maybe you can’t be the Ghost King if you’re still partly alive!”

“But Frostbite said-” Tucker starts, only to be cut off by Jazz.

“Frostbite could be wrong.” She sniffs. “And even if he isn’t you there are millenia before it becomes a problem. The Zone can wait for you to graduate high school before it goes demanding things of you. Or longer.”

The words are decisive.

Still….

“The Justice League-”

“Can cope. They’ll be a little paranoid about retaliation, but a little paranoia won’t kill them. And maybe letting them stew a bit will teach them to be more active about taking down genocidal organizations before they hurt so many people.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sam says, tone saying the opposite, “except the part where they’re actively working on figuring out how to summon the ghost king - who is Danny - and are probably also going to try and make contact with Phantom at some point - who is also Danny.”

Jazz frowns.

“Well. You don’t have to be a king to talk to the Justice League. Just tell them you’re still too young - which is true - or that the coronation is going to take a long time to plan - which, according to Frostbite, would be a reasonable claim. And also true since you will not be taking the throne until you are at least 18 if the Fenton Peeler and I have anything to say about it.”

“Uh. I don’t know if the Peeler is the best idea. With your…aim.” Tucker cringes, shrinking back in his seat when her unhappy frown snaps to him.

Then she looks thoughtful.

“You know what. I’ll just use a specter deflector. You mentioned before how humans are ghosts in the ghosts zone; see if they still feel like making a child a king when they’ve got an unstrikable target punching their lights out about it.”

“Please don’t antagonize a bunch of ghosts who could try and attack you while you're sleeping,” Danny pleads.

“It’s bad enough that all this has impacted your sleep and grades and attendance records so much; I’m not going to let a bunch of ghost nobles - or whatever they’re called - mess things up for you even more. If they don’t like my proposals they can un-friendly fight me about it, and if you’re worried about retribution I can turn on the house defenses in my room when I sleep. But I am not letting this go.”

She stands.

“Since he didn’t give you a time, we’ll leave to visit Frostbite after breakfast tomorrow-”

“We?” the trio ask hesitantly.

“Of course. But for now, there’s something else we need to do, little brother.”

That said, she turns and heads for the basement.

Danny and Tucker blink at the abrupt departure, while Sam just frowns thoughtfully.

The three exchange one more meaningful glance, before sharing a shrug and moving to follow her.

They arrive in the basement to Fenton Fighting Ring rising out of the floor.

“Uh, Jazz?” Danny tries.

“We’re going to fight!”

In stark contrast to both her words and her furious demeanor upstairs, her tone and expression are bright and eager.

“Um. That’s. Nice, but you know that’s a ghost thing, right?” he offers hesitantly.

“I mean, I still fight with Dora,” Sam adds, the traitor.

“Thank you Sam,” Jazz starts. “But even without that example; you are part ghost, brother mine. That means fighting loved ones is a you thing. I love you, so of course I’m going to fight you.”

“Mom and Dad theorized - and Frostbite confirmed - that the fighting is a social behavior. Many social behaviors are also needs. Members of social species that are not allowed to socialize become stressed and their health worsens. Humans who don’t communicate with other humans for too long experience negative side effects, too little physical contact can lead to depressed mood and so forth,” she monologues as she moves into the ring.

“As you’re still half human, neglecting the social needs of your ghost half could negatively impact your wellbeing. Also. I’m your sister and I love you. If I could never hug you I’d be bummed. This is like the ghost equivalent of that. So. Square up, little brother.”

Danny is kind of touched, actually.

Still.

“...Don’t you at least want an anti-creep stick?” he asks, gesturing at her general lack of ghost gear as he slips intangibly through the ropes around the ring.

“Nope!” She says cheerfully. “For this match we’ll be doing no powers and no weapons - just basic human strength and skill. We can try other kinds of fights later.”

Danny pales.

“No way! You’re a 4th degree black belt!”

“9th!” she corrects, still cheerfully - and she clearly means well, but for Danny that smile is beginning to look like an omen of ill fortune.

“That’s even worse!” he cries. “I’m only a blue belt! Barely!”

“I ~told~ you you should’ve stuck with mom’s training,” she sing-songs teasingly.

He cringes, but takes a stance.

“Now let's see how much you remember.”

That’s the only warning he gets before she’s in his face.

His strength, speed, stamina, endurance, and durability are all completely back to baseline in human form unless he actively uses his flight to compensate, but one thing he notes as the fight draws on is that his reaction speed is still the same.

Even so, it’s painfully obvious just how beyond him she is in terms of skill.

Without any powers to fall back on, Jazz runs circles around him like it’s nothing.

His reaction speed means that he sees everything she’s doing and that he has time to bring his arms up, but he keeps lagging trying to recall forms and getting shoved around for it, the defenses he manages too poor to be of any use.

Other times he lags because he’s suppressing instinctual power usage.

And multiple times he accidentally, instinctively abandons proper stance all together, habitually falling into the stance of his usual “feral racoon” style of fighting - as Jazz had one called it - which isn’t much of a stance at all in a fight with no powers. Especially given how it's not made for someone fighting on the ground. She takes brutal advantage of every opening.

He’s on the back foot from the first second of the fight, and it’s obvious that it only lasted for longer than one because Jazz allowed it to, testing him.

It’s frustrating that he’s doing so poorly - he knows he’s doing poorly - but despite that, he really is having fun.

It reminds him of the training spars at the Far Frozen - restrained skill set, fight with defined boundaries and win conditions-

Aaaaand evidently he let his mind wander too much.

And Jazz noticed.

And flipped him.

He’s thoroughly pinned in short order and he cannot for the life of him remember how to escape the hold short of cheating with intangibility.

“Uncle,” he calls.

Jazz pulls him to his feet and ruffles his hair.

He squawks indignantly, but she just chuckles.

"Good fight little brother," she calls as she slips between the ropes out of the ring.

"Our hero," Sam drawls as he follows.

Danny just pouts.

"That was just sad, man," Tucker ribs. "And I thought your early ghost fights were bad."

"I'd like to you do better against the 9th degree blackbelt," he grumbles.

"Don't fret, little brother. You'll improve with time," Jazz says as she rejoins them. "Though we'll have to do refreshers of all the previous levels first, given the amount of skill degradation I just saw. But with regular practice you'll back to your previous level and more in no time!"

"Uh. Refreshers?"

"Of course!"

"That seems a bit overkill just for sparring. Couldn't you just...wear a specter deflector or something? Then I can just not use karate."

Jazz, for the first time in a long time, levels him with a very serious look.

"You said that the reason Frostbite can't be the king instead is because he can't beat you in an all out fight. You told me the alternative."

She grabs him by the shoulders and stares into his eyes.

"Danny, Vlad already made a way to shut you away from your ghost powers. Frostbite may be unwilling to end you, and I don't think Vlad would. But you and I both know there are ghosts out there who would destroy you in a heartbeat for that power. And if Vlad has that kind of device, someone else could get one too. Ecto-weapons can give you a leg up if you get sealed away from your ghost powers, but you'll also need the skill to use them successfuly."

She lets go and steps back, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"Even with the ghost powers it's probably a good idea; the crown and ring might power you up but so did the exoskeleton. Clearly they aren’t the only power-ups out there so you can’t rely on strength alone. Skill could be the determining factor one day. And you already said you had fun," she smiles. "Come on little brother, give in to the karate side."

He grimaces.

"Didn't you say you were gonna make the royalty thing a non-issue for like three more years at least," he whines, slumping dramatically.

She raises a brow.

"A blackbelt isn't made in a day."

"Ugh, fine."

He's actually looking forward to it, but Jazz doesn't need to know that. He's duty-bound as a brother to be as annoyingly contrary about sibling bonding as possible, after all.

When Sam asks if they'll teach her and Tucker as well, Jazz is all too happy to include them - best not to have only one sparring partner, avoid forming bad habits and all that.

Both girls dutifully ignore Tucker's protests while they hash out a schedule. Danny pats his shoulder consolingly.

#dpxdc

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familyabolisher · 11 months

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Would you elaborate on why you don't really believe in addictive personalities? I find that a useful descriptor for myself that reminds me how easy it is for me to get into unhealthy behavior patterns. I have to fully stay away from tiktok and gacha games(I will never go gambling) because I know I can't trust myself with them. I also have to be REALLY careful with alcohol, etc. I have adhd and bi-polar, and I like having a phrase that describes my experience without being too over-medicalized and relating everything to diagnoses. I'm curious why you don't like it as a construct/whatever your opinion is!

personal explanatory power is one thing and i wouldn’t begrudge you that but i don’t really see how it has any materialist usage; and ultimately, like, i’m a marxist, any way in which i evaluate a framework that’s supposed to explain something in the world has to come from the assumption that the world is best explained through historical materialism. ‘addictive personality’ with no further elaboration is an idealist claim which obfuscates crucial points of discourse around addiction and the conditions that give rise to it—and indeed the conditions which cause us to name one substance or action as ‘addictive’ over another in the first place. addiction is materially punished; through social stigma, but also through housing discrimination, workplace discrimination, policing & incarceration, psychiatry, the sorts of forces that add up to eventually facilitate the conditions of social murder. we only have to look as far as the war on drugs to understand how ‘addiction,’ the consumption and circulation of substances regarded as ‘addictive,’ is not a prediscursive state but one that can be leveraged to violently enforce conditions of hegemony and quell insurgence through carceralism and social murder. i also just heavily distrust psychology as a field and certainly don’t buy these appeals to an essential self as a self who ‘has’ xyz tendencies as though xyz tendencies (such as the traits given in the five-factor model which is applied to ‘explain’ a predisposition to addiction) are anything other than postdiscursive descriptors we’ve imbued with meaning relative to a postdiscursive normalcy. i think psychological theorising around personality tends to obfuscate materialist frameworks in favour of methodologies which presume and reify normativity (eg. the claim that those more vulnerable to ‘addictive personalities’ have a stronger tendency towards ‘social alienation’ and ‘nonconformity’ without defining what constitutes ‘alienation’ and ‘conformity’ in the first place—as though personality traits simply appear out of thin air).

as we’ve seen dozens of times, “addiction” is a slippery term easily wielded towards reactionary ends. “porn addiction” is a line taken by anti-sex work radfems; “food addiction” is infamously unscientific and preying on cultural predispositions towards fatphobia; “internet addiction” is similarly flimsy and frequently deployed in theories of cultural degeneration. this doesn’t mean that the clusters of behaviours we term “addiction” aren’t “real” in the sense that some people do develop dependencies on particular substances, but that the term can be used to draw connections between the reactionary attitude held towards addiction & its attendant connotations (of infantilisation, justified removal of autonomy, incarceration, psychiatric intervention, and so on) and whatever the wielder wants to malign (porn, food, using the internet). if we reify the idea of there being an ontological state within ourselves by which we are more or less prone to “addiction,” we by implication act against the necessity of interrogating what is meant by “addiction” and why it is being invoked in the first place; we also place all our explanatory eggs, so to speak, in the basket of the individual cast as “addicted,” rather than turning our attention towards the source of the “addictive” substance or object and its material origins + usage.

so it bears asking what we’re obscuring and what we’re facilitating when we give legitimacy to the idea of an ‘addictive personality’ in the public discourse, which is what i meant when i said that the term has no materialist explanatory power for me—casting someone in the role of an addict, even if only in the hypothetical, allows others to enforce the stigmas that such a role entails, through, for example, infantilisation, denial of autonomy, and reluctance to treat the individual’s behaviour as worthy of respect, compassion, and mature response. it creates a telos out of addiction under conditions wherein addiction means incarceration (literal or psychiatric), discrimination, ostracisation, everything i just laid out in the first paragraph. it makes addiction into a fundamentally individualist discourse which must therefore have individualist solutions, rather than a complex nexus of social conditions and discourses that we can describe and then fight against.

#ask

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thetygre · 22 days

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Working on a theory about the origins of the Chaos Gods specifically in Warhammer 40k.

Slaanesh was born from the old aeldari empire; that’s a given. So you can think of Slaanesh as being uniquely aeldari, even if Slaanesh is everyone’s problem now.

Now old, old lore states that the other three Chaos Gods are born from humanity, but this has widely been disregarded and abandoned because it’s clearly a cop-out. The only specific piece of data from this bit of lore is that Nurgle was born from humans during the Black Plague.

I’m actually not 100% opposed to this. I like the idea that Nurgle is uniquely related to humans the same way Slaanesh is related to eldar. Humans, being a naturally short lived race, would produce a Chaos God of death and decay reflecting their existential fears about entropy and the nature of time.

This establishes a pattern in 40k; every species with a major warp signature produces a Chaos God, who will carry on inherent traits of their creator species long after that species has been driven to extinction. Ergo, Tzeentch and Khorne were produced by two other, far more ancient alien cultures.

The only hints we can get about these extinct species come from their Chaos Gods’ Greater Daemons. As the Chaos Gods have no real physical form, their Greater Daemons are the most direct manifestations of their power we can experience, and therefore the only way to see any of their creator species traits. In the same way we can extrapolate an eldar from a Keeper of Secrets and a human from a Great Unclean One, we should be able to extrapolate… something from a Changer of Ways and a Bloodthirster.

This actually leads me to the tzaangor.

(These things. The bird people the Thousand Sons use when they don’t feel like getting their Rubric Marines dirty.)

The tzaangor’s presence in 40k is a leftover; they’re here because they’re in Warhammer Fantasy, and we need to flesh out Tzeentch’s armies, so in they go. Their explanation makes sense in Fantasy - they’re just another type of beastman. But beastmen aren’t really a thing in 40k, or at least they haven’t been for a few editions.

So that gets me thinking about the tzaangor, their similarities to Changers of Ways, and Tzeentch. I don’t think tzaangor in 40k are just some random mutants; I think they’re primitive leftovers of whatever species made Tzeentch. The similarities between the tzaangor and Changer of Ways are too obvious. (Like yes, duh; the tzaangor are derived from the Changers, but bear with me here.)

My theory is that whatever this species was, they were pioneers of the Warp itself. They harnessed it in a way not even the Old Ones had during the War in Heaven. They may even have been the creators of Warp travel, or something like it. They achieved a transcendental, almost godlike amount of power from harnessing the energy of the empyrean.

And then you know how the story goes; more power than mortal beings are meant to know blah blah blah, absolute knowledge is absolute power and absolute power corrupts absolutely yadda yadda yadda, and then the next thing you know Tzeentch has been born. And Tzeentch keeps the leftovers of his creator race around for one of a hundred different reasons; anything can be justified with Tzeentch by it being part of one of his master plans or split personalities.

What’s left now of the tzaangor are Chaos-ridden mutants hustled around by the new power in the universe; humans. They’re still surprisingly intelligent, but comparatively primitive next to their species in its prime. I like to imagine that since the species was so psychically gifted, Tzeentch’s birth wiped their intellects in an instant, like Slaanesh and the Fall of the Eldar. Just a lethal psychic shockwave that decimated billions, Watchmen squid style. It’s taken millennia for the tzaangor to redevelop their current level of intellect, and they live in fear with the constant knowledge that Tzeentch can take it away again at any time.

Now as for Khorne! …I got nothing. I think, by his nature as the god of bloodshed and murder, Khorne completely wiped out his progenitor species. He did not quit halfway through like the other Chaos Gods. The only thing I can assume about them is that, as Khorne is the oldest Chaos God, they were ancient. Maybe even older than the Old Ones and Necrons. If the War in Heaven wasn’t enough to create Khorne, then I’d like to know what was. Like, this was the Cain species; the first species to really get into warfare and unrestrained violence. They might not even have known the Warp existed until Khorne came screaming out of it. And that species is remembered now as the ground floor of the Skull Throne.

Anyway, that’s that screed scooped out of my brain.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #chaos #chaos daemons #chaos space marines #chaos gods #tzeentch #khorne #slaanesh #nurgle #long post

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red-might-be-dead · 2 months

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hello hi here to force strange thoughts into your brain once again, this time about jrwi (wow who could’ve guessed)

been thinking about this for a little but it’s basically what i think some campaigns would be if not podcasts, i haven’t listened to some of the older ones so i’m sorry they’re not on here :(( if you have any ideas feel free to add them btw :DD

RIPTIDE!!!!! - really long animated series

not an anime though, no matter how much grizzly wants it, it would be an animation style where the characters could have very clearly different nose, face and body shapes, really pushing my riptide nose agenda here sorry, each episode would be like 20-40 minutes long and instead of coming out in seasons there would be massive gaps in between episodes, from 2-6 months long, to leave time for writers and animators to get stuff done (massive team of animators btw, i feel like it would be pretty successful)

PRIME DEFENDERS!! - comics

literally nothing else they could be, just really well made, well performing comics (i’ve already talked about this before you can stalk my talk tag if you really want to find it lmao), the comic company making them would be keeping well away from movies n shit btw

APOTHEOSIS!!! - i wasn’t really sure about this one to be honest

i had to ask my friend and she said anime which i don’t agree with but i can see it, i think maybe a short book series where each book is 150 - 300 pages and is about a different god they have to kill/a different episode, i think that works but if anyone has any better ideas please tell me :D!!

BLOOD IN THE BAYOU!!! - i hate to say it, i really do…

bitb would be a really long really good 80s horror book with strong homoerotic undertones, a satisfied fanbase and lots of active members in the community making fan comics, films, writing, theories and art ect… until well after the book came out……….. and then it would be made into the most egregious and awful live action movie you have ever seen, the most awful casting (like chris pratt as officer dudes….. throws up) and even worse sfx, oh yeah and the characters would be ruined and the story would become so butchered it wouldn’t make sense, they would do some shit like cut out becky so kian just kisses some random lady (removing both a really good and well written character and a layer of kian’s character that i think is super important) and make rolan really be an evil bug spy the whole time so rand has to kill him to save the town also add in a whole new sub plot that never existed like the rand family is secretly a long line of bug alien hunters or something fucking stupid like that and the entire fanbase would murder whoever thought re-writing the story was a good idea (ahaha can you tell ive been through something like this before ahahaha, character morals and motives being removed and whatnot ahahahhahahaha.)

anyways………

THE SUCKENING!!! - live action series

it would be well made though, unlike the bitb movie it would be its own original thing, have great makeup and effects also be well casted and well shot, well written, ect ect, it would bloody and gory and not suitable for people who can’t handle showing bones and organs all over everywhere, lots of shitty rip off merch would be made though and the fandom would be 99% gay little freaks (normal suckening enjoyers) and 1% homophobic straight white men who get mad whenever they see soda and emizel having gay sex on screen or whatever fag shit that biting thing was

again feel free to add your thoughts and ideas and shit in the reblogs it would be nice to read them :DD!!

#red rambles relentlessly #jrwi show #jrwi pd #the suckening #jrwi riptide #jrwi apotheosis #jrwi bitb #jrwi spoilers #jrwi the suckening #jrwi prime defenders #bitb spoilers #suckening spoilers #i think i wrote some shit that could be considered spoilers in those two sections #definitely the bitb one #which i definitely didn’t base around a certain netflix adaptation of one of my old favourite books cough cough #I HATE THAT FILM SO MUCH WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO SOPHIES CHARACTER SHE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A BITCH STOP TRYING TO MAKE HER NICE #anyways like maybe one person who sees this post will know what that’s referencing #and i will admit the books weren’t perfect but at least the characterisation made sense

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rollingsins · 1 year

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all hers, part xii

summary: Tara's out. Reader gets an unwanted and unexpected visitor.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder.

word count: 3.8k

a/n: :0 who could it be??? thanks as always for all the love, let me know your theories (and what you want to see next)!!

Since that unfortunate incident in the living room, you and Tara have been hiding out in her bedroom.

Well you’re hiding out, unable to get past the mortification. The look on Sam’s face as she’d seen the two of you. The hushed lecture she’d given you both the morning after. Tara, as usual, doesn’t think she’s done anything wrong, but she goes where you go, and tonight, that’s curled up under her covers watching an episode of Ancient Aliens.

You’re perfectly content, wrapped up in Tara’s arms, until you hear a long rapt on the door. It’s Sam, presumably. She’s taken to knocking profusely before entering any room.

Tara’s bedroom especially.

“What?” Tara calls out. Sam’s voice sounds through the wood of the door, a little muffled.

“Is everybody decent?”

“No.” Tara says, deadpanned, “We’re having wild, passionate sex, don’t come in.”

Sam pauses.

You whack her, lightly.

“You’re fine Sam, we’re fully clothed.” You call out.

Tara shoots you a look but you ignore her, watch as Sam hesitantly steps into the room.

“Richie got Clue from the house. Do you guys want to join us for a game?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You and Tara both say at the same time. It earns her another smack.

“We’ll be down in five,” You tell her, voice syrupy sweet. You’ve been doing that lately, being extra nice to Sam. Trying to make up for your girlfriend’s utter lack of respect.

Sam nods, closes the door behind her.

“What did you do that for?” Tara groans, “Now we’ll be stuck with them all night.”

“You need to start being nicer to your sister.” You tell her, stand and tug at her hand, “She’s making a real effort. And we still have some groveling to do.”

“You can grovel all you like, unless you can erase memories I think that one will stick with her for a while.” She grins like she’s proud of herself.

You smack her again.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Ow.” She rubs her forearm, eyes wide with outrage, “Stop hitting me.”

“Stop being an idiot and I’ll stop hitting you.” You tell her, hold out your hand. She takes it with great reluctance, scoots herself off the bed, “Now what are we going to go downstairs and do?”

“Be nice to Sam,” Tara grumbles.

“And Richie.” You remind her. She goes quiet.

“Tara. He’s fine.”

“He’s creepy,” Tara complains, “I just get a bad vibe from him. And Sam can do so much better-”

“Drop it.” You chide. You reach for her hand, interlock your fingers, “You’re going to be nice to Sam and you’re going to be nice to Richie. All night. Please?”

She really looks like she wants to argue. Instead, she pulls you into her, presses a long kiss to your cheek.

“Fine. But only for you.”

“It’s Colonel Mustard. In the study. With the knife.”

Richie’s eyes glint. Tara huffs beside you as Sam reaches for the small yellow packet in the middle of the table.

“Sam, don’t. It’s been two rounds, he can’t possibly have gotten it already.”

Sam slaps down the cards. It is Colonel Mustard. In the study. With the knife. Tara blinks.

“You cheated.” She says, immediately.

Richie laughs, “No. I’m just good at this kind of thing.”

“He is.” Sam assures, pulling everyone’s cards to the center of the table, “It’s annoying.”

You rub the back of Tara’s neck. You can tell she’s getting upset. She doesn’t like to lose and this is the third game in a row Richie’s won. You’re starting to think this was a bad idea.

“He’s looking at the cards,” Tara insists, snatching the packet off Sam, “Here, let me deal.”

But Richie wins again, even after Tara makes a big show of dealing the hand quite literally under the table. Tara’s shoulders tighten. The first sign of her mood. She goes quiet as she plays, all focus and determination, snapping replies when she’s asked questions. Pushing your hand on her thigh away.

By the end of the fourth game, you’re the one snatching the cards from the table.

“Maybe we should play something else,” You suggest quickly, your hand around Tara’s waist maybe the only thing stopping her from launching across the table to slap the shit-eating grin off Richie’s face, “Uno?”

You can’t stand Uno, you suck at it. But Tara’s good at it and she almost never loses. A quick win is exactly what she needs. You hold back your cards on purpose, determined to give her the game. Direct all your bad cards at Richie and Sam.

But despite your best efforts, Richie wins that too.

By the time game night is over, Richie’s standing a little taller and you’re left to pick up the pieces of Tara’s foul mood. You lead her back upstairs, direct an unsaid apology towards Sam with your eyes.

Tara’s so annoyed she barely notices when you strip naked in front of her and slip into bed.

“God, he sucks,” She vents, so irate you can almost see the steam coming out of her ears, “He cheats at Clue and if that isn’t sad enough he cheats at Uno too. What is he trying to prove?”

She’s a terrible loser, always has been. If someone except her wins, she’s certain they’ve cheated. Somehow you even find that endearing about her. You reach for her and rub her back, soothingly.

“Babe, I don’t think he was cheating,” You say, nestling yourself into her side, “He’s just good at games. He’s a nerd. He probably spends all his free time practicing them. I mean, all he ever does is play that stupid shooting game.”

Tara chews at her bottom lip.

“He probably spends all night practising because his girlfriend never wants to fuck him.” Tara says, her eyes sparking a little. Next to fucking you, ragging on Richie was her absolue favorite thing to do.

You indulge her, try to prompt her out of her grump.

“Exactly. And you don’t have that problem.” You say, pressing your lips against her ear, “Because your girlfriend always wants to fuck you.”

That does it. You feel her soften immediately, her hands around your waist tightening. She’s suddenly realized you’re naked against her. She runs her hands down your bare thighs, her mood gone with a single sentence.

“Hmm,” She says, her voice dropping a few octaves, “That’s true. I’d beat him every time if I didn’t have such a sexy, naked girl in my bed 24/7.”

“Definitely.” You assure, “So who’s the real winner?”

‘Me.” Tara grins as she flips you onto her back, “Definitely me.”

In the end, the real winner is you.

You get three orgasms as a reward for your peace-keeping efforts. By the time you’re done, a sweaty mess of entwined limbs, you’re satisfied but dehydrated. Tara mews as you get up, trying to tug you back into her.

“I’m just going to get some water,” You assure, reaching for her discarded t-shirt and pulling it over your head, “Do you want some?”

She nods, a little sleepily, rests her head back down onto the pillow as you leave.

The house is dark, you pad quietly through it, not wanting to wake Sam and Richie.

But when you reach the kitchen, Richie’s already there in only his boxers, a glass of milk in hand. He raises it to you in acknowledgement.

“Hey,” He says, “You thirsty too, huh?”

“Just getting some water.” You say as you reach into the shelf and grab yourself a glass.

“Tara still pissed she lost?” He asks, leaning against the countertop, “That girl sure knows how to throw a tantrum.”

He grins a little, like he’s sure you’ll agree with him. Bitches, am I right? His smile screams. As if he’s forgotten he’s talking to her girlfriend.

“She’s just competitive,” You say, a little defensively. You fill yourself a glass, grab another for Tara.

“Hmm.” Richie says, “I’m sure she’s fine now. After you got done with her.”

His eyes flicker down to your bare legs. You cross your arms a little self conscious.

“You guys have a lot of sex, you know.” Richie continues. He takes a long sip of his drink, “We can hear you through the walls. It’s driving Sam crazy.”

Your neck prickles uncomfortably. The thought of Sam hearing you have sex was mortifying but knowing Richie could hear too was somehow even worse.

“Sorry.” You say. You pull her shirt down your legs a little, subconsciously trying to cover yourself, “We’ll be quieter.”

“It’s fine.” He says, “I don’t mind.”

He blinks as if he’s just realized what he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a weird way. I just meant- you know what, never mind. I’m going to stop talking.”

He hovers, a little awkward. You blink back at him, unsure what to say.

“Enjoy your water. And your- sex, I guess.”

And then he leaves you standing in the kitchen alone, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

When you make your way back up to Tara’s she’s still laying in bed, her eyes drooping.

She accepts her water, and doesn't seem to notice your mood.

You’re glad, you don’t want to tell Tara about your conversation with Richie in the kitchen.

You feel weird, uncomfortable. You tell yourself to let it go. After all, he hadn’t even anything that offensive, outside of being slightly creepy. There really wasn’t anything to tell Tara. And she’d go ballistic. Probably go in all guns blazing and drag Richie out of bed by his hair.

The last thing you need is her to be angry again.

You curl back into bed against her, still wearing her shirt.

“Take this off.” She murmurs into your chest, trying to tug her shirt off you. You resist.

“You know we can’t sleep naked.” You say. Sleeping naked with Tara almost always ended up the same way; her waking you up at some ungodly hour to fuck you into the mattress because she’d gotten so turned on by the press of your skin against hers in the middle of the night, “We have to be at school for eight.”

She pouts. You press a kiss to her lips.

“Tomorrow.” You promise, “When it’s Friday and I don’t have to be up early.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She says, quite seriously and lets you pull her pajamas back on.

It’s Saturday night.

Usually, you’d be out with Tara’s friends but the mood has dampened a little since Wes’ disappearance. The friendship circle dwindling a little, only five of you left, with Wes and Amber’s untimely departures.

Instead, you’re starting dinner prep while Tara and Sam do the grocery shop. Tara had insisted on going with her, complaining Sam’s grocery options were far too organic for her taste. Richie’s out somewhere with his college buddies, so for once you have the house to yourself.

Maybe when Tara got back the two of you could watch a film, since Richie had temporarily vacated the living room. Or maybe you’d rope her and Sam into another game of Clue, fix Tara’s bruised ego by letting her win.

For now, you put on some music, put your hair up.

Chop potatoes while grooving out to Fleetwood Mac, not a care in the world.

In fact you’re so into the music, you don’t even hear the press of the kitchen door opening. The heavy click of boots against the tile. The gentle scrapping of a knife against the wood of the counter.

And when you turn around, lyrics to Dreams still on your lips, your heart almost jumps out of your throat.

It’s Tara, wearing the Ghostface outfit. Black robes and all, mask down, silver dagger in hand.

Your reaction is instantaneous; the knife you’re holding clatters to the counter. Your entire body fizzles: a mesh of confusion and rage and horror at the sight in front of you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hiss, “Where are you going?”

Tara tilts her head. Her fingers press tighter around the knife in her hand. She doesn’t bother to answer. It makes you angrier. Your stomach writhes sick with fury. She’d told you she wasn’t going to do this anymore. She’d swore black and blue. Hurt, anger, betrayal well up, set deep within your bones.

“You promised me you’d stop with this. Take that off right now.”

But she doesn’t move. Not an inch. You reach out for her, grab at the mask, determined to tear it off and tell her how disappointed you are to her face. But she jerks away from you out of your reach. You stare, irritation swelling.

“Where’s Sam? Tara, if she comes home and sees you like this-”

You don’t see it coming. One minute she’s standing completely still. The next, her arms are jerking out wide, grabbing at you hard. She yanks you to her, hands are gripping your forearms so hard you think it might bruise.

“What the fuck? Get off me!” You cry out as you struggle against her.

Something’s wrong. Something other than Tara standing in front of you in her Ghostface costume. Her grip is hard, unforgiving. Her hands are too big, her weight against you feels strange. Foreign.

Your struggle against her is futile. She’s much stronger than you. She drags you backwards across the kitchen and slams you down onto the floor like you’re a ragdoll. Then she’s climbing on top of you, too heavy, hands wrapping tight around your throat.

She chokes you hard. It’s not an unfamiliar position. But this is different. She’s choking you like she wants to hurt you. You writhe in a panic as her fingers squeeze down tight around your throat. You try to cry out but she’s pressing down too hard on your vocal chords. Your vision blurs. Your head light.

In a final, desperate move, you manage to kick up between her legs at just the right angle. Her grip loosens, only slightly but it’s enough.

You scramble out from under her. Immediately grab at your fallen potato chopping knife.

When you whirl around, knife pointed out at her, she’s pulling herself back to her feet, Ghostface mask tilted menacingly.

“Who the fuck are you?” You hiss, hands shaking.

This isn’t your girlfriend, you don’t know why you didn’t see it before. This person is taller, bigger, and they want to hurt you. As they stand, you see the glint of the knife in their hands.

“Someone who thinks you should pay.” They’re using the Ghostface voice changer. You haven’t heard it since that night at Chase’s house. The night you’d discovered who Tara truly was. It sends shivers down your spine. Your lip quivers.

“Someone who thinks you should both pay.” Ghostface edges a little closer, knife tilted out towards you. Your eyes flicker down to it. It gleams under the cool lights of the kitchen, “And when I’m done carving you up, I’m going to drag your pretty girlfriend in here too. Just long enough so she can see what I’ve done to you. Then I’ll mutilate her over your corpse.”

“You stay the fuck away from her.” You growl, edge forward and launch a strike. Ghostface ducks past it like it’s nothing. You topple back, grip the counter so hard it might just crack under the pressure. Ghostface is close now, close enough that if you just reached forward and grabbed the mask…

Ghostface ducks as you try it. Launches a hard strike at you. You spin out of the way just in time, their dagger hitting the side of the counter. It clatters to the ground and you take the moment to run.

You’re sprinting, far out of the kitchen and down the hall, heartbeat in your ears. You rush for the front door. If you can just make it out of the house, run out onto the street, you’ll be able to find help. A neighbor, a car, anything.

You hear footsteps, loud and heavy behind you.

Panic floods through your veins, tears streaking hot down your face. Your hands are shaking as you pry open the lock. Their close now, close enough to grab you. Just as a pair of gloved hands reach out to pull you back, the click of the lock sounds.

You don’t wait a moment longer. Pry open the door as fast as you can and sprint forward.

Immediately, you hit a solid body.

You hit the ground hard, a mess of tears, tangled limbs and loose grocery items. You gasp as a rogue glass of pasta sauce shatters around you, a carton of milk seeping cool under your fingertips.

It’s Sam, looking confused and a little dazed. The weight of you has sent her toppling back onto the porch. You wildly flurry to untangle yourself from her, scramble up desperately looking behind you for the foreboding figure that had just chased you down the hallway.

“My groceries.” Sam gasps, from the ground, “YN, what the hell?”

But you’re not looking at her. You stare back into the house. The hallway is empty, eerie, lights flickering. Ghostface is long gone.

You hear the thud of the car door closing, and then a voice that makes you want to crumble to the ground.

“Sam?” Tara calls out from behind the car. No doubt she’s heard the panic, tries to round the corner to see what’s going on. She’s carrying two brown bags worth of groceries, a particularly long celery stick blocking her vision. She brushes it out of the way, eyes lock to Sam on the ground and you, standing limp-handed, tears and mascara streaked down your face.

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

You run towards her, all but throw yourself into her arms. She lets go of the groceries instantly. They fall to the ground with a crash as she wraps her arms tight around you. You sniffle into her neck, breathing wild, heartbeat erratic. You try to speak but it comes out in a quiet, muffled blubber, tears spilling hot from your eyes and into her neck. She’s pulling you away only slightly so she can cup your cheeks, eyes panicked as she sees the look in your eyes.

“Babe, what happened?”

“He’s inside,” Your voice shakes. It’s thick, “Ghostface. He’s here.”

She blinks back at you. You’re so close to her you can almost hear the thud of her heartbeat as it speeds up.

“What?” She says, “That’s impossible.”

“He’s here.” You say, desperately, “Call the police, now.”

“Who’s here?” Sam asks. She’s long abandoned her groceries, looks over at you with concern.

“Ghostface.” You say, “He attacked me in the house. Just now. He’s probably still inside.”

Sam’s face drops. Tara’s hands tighten around your waist.

“Wait here.” Tara murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“No.” You and Sam both shout at once. You grip her hard. Keep her locked into you.

“You’re not going in there. No way.” You say. The shake in your voice gone, replaced with sheer determination. Over your dead body was she going into that house alone.

“Baby, let go. You know I can handle myself.”

Sam reaches for her phone.

“Get back in the car. Lock the doors.” She orders, taking charge, “YN, don’t let go of her. I’m calling the police.”

“He’ll be gone by then,” Tara says, aggravated but you don’t loosen your grip. Cling to her like a baby koala would its mother.

“Let’s get in the car, please Tara.” You all but beg. She looks down at you, conflict in her eyes.

“Please.”

She relents. You feel the tension in her body loosen only a little, before she’s leading you back into Sam’s car, and helping you into the back seat. You all but crawl into her lap, watch as Sam paces back and forth across the front lawn, talking animatedly to the 911 operator.

“Are you okay?” Tara’s asking, her hands over your body. She’s wildly checking for marks, cuts. “Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head.

Tara presses a long kiss to the side of your head.

“Did you see his face?” Tara asks. She looks so anxious you want to weep.

You shake your head once more.

“Did you get close? Did you hear his voice?”

“Voice-changer,” You all but mumble.

She bites at her bottom lip. She looks back into the house, eyes it like she’s about to make a break for it. You curl your fingers tight around her waist, keeping her in place. Press your cheek to her chest. Her heart is beating faster than yours, drumming loudly against your ear.

Her fingers thread through your hair, heartbeat still racing.

“Shoes?”

“Boots. They were black.”

“What did he smell like?”

You retract from her just long enough to stare up at her. She’s looking back, completely serious.

“I didn’t smell him, Tara, I was busy trying not to get stabbed-”

Your lip trembles. A fresh wave of tears spill hot from your eyes.

“Alright. Alright, I’m sorry, baby. Of course you didn’t smell him.” She takes you back into her arms, hushes your cries with a kiss, “There’s got to be something. He grabbed you, right? What did he feel like? Was he skinny? Beefy?”

“He was…” You trail off trying to remember. You look down at your forearms, remember the way he’d gripped you, “He was strong. Solid.”

“So he was a he, then?” Tara tries to confirm. Her eyes flit between yours, searchingly.

“I don’t… maybe. Not necessarily.” You say, suddenly hyper-aware of how unhelpful you’re being. You pause a moment, remembering something.

“He knew though.”

Tara looks at you, long and hard.

“He knew what?”

“What we-” You take a breath, hot flashes of memories painting thick behind your eyes. The knife in your hand. Wes’ body on the floor.

“About you-know-what.”

Sam’s close, you don’t want to say it aloud. Tara’s expression is even, unreadable. Her heartbeat hammers even louder.

“That’s not possible.”

“He said that we need to pay.” You insist, “There’s nothing else he could have meant.”

Tara goes quiet, her fingers in your hair tightened. Then she’s pulling you back into her chest, pressing another long kiss against the top of your head.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” She says, voice agonized, “Why did I leave you alone?”

“Nevermind about that,” You say. You close your eyes, breathe her in. It calms you, if only for a moment, “What are we going to do?”

She blinks back at you. She’s afraid, uncertain, you can see it in her eyes. She doesn’t have an answer for you, she doesn’t know what to do.

She’s used to being the hunter, not the hunted.

And the thought of Tara being Ghostface’s prey is what scares you the most.

Next part

#scream #scream vi #tara carpenter x yn #jenna ortega #tara carpenter #ghostface #all hers #mine #fanfiction #ghostface!tara

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ms-scarletwings · 11 months

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The Speculative Analysis About Irkens No One Asked For: Part II

Hiya! Back at it again with not shutting up about the lil green dudes. In case you found this first, here’s the Part One of this spiel, touching on some of the environmental theories about Irk and its cyberpunk-leaning cultural direction. While this post is dedicated to a more biological look of what’s going on with the Irkens, there was some leading context and other tidbits back in that one you may also enjoy, too.

So, carrying through what we previously set up, I want to… admit off the bat that, I found it a little difficult at first, you know?-To pick an angle I wanted to sink my teeth into. With how old the show’s become and how creative & enthusiastic a fanbase it attracted, it’s getting hard to really note (or theorize) something about Irken anatomy that hasn’t been said before somewhere. And don’t get me wrong, that’s awesome and I love almost every word of it I’ve read. A lot of it from various sources is almost certainly going to bleed together into the first half of this. So, keep it in mind, yet I will try to chew a little deeper into the questions we can’t actually answer with just a rewatch of the show, all good? Because there’s a few more base things we know from the canon I’m going to include to start listing: - Irkens lack any visible form of nose or ears, but are equipped with a pair of sensory antennae. Presumably, these organs fulfill the same roles, as they do in real-world insects. - Irken organs are obviously very alien, not well explained, artificially enhanced, and hard to compare to that of a human’s- outside of their general body shape, the presence of a primary brain separate from the PAK, and the fact that they do possess something of an internal skeleton. - A petite race on average (relative to humans), Irkens universally follow an unquestioned social hierarchy based on individual height. - Irkens are endowed with a remarkable ability to regenerate and heal superficial injuries, even up to repairing the damage of being nearly skinned alive (chest-down) or severely burning their corneas within a matter of hours. - Their preferred diet is one that is rich in (if not primarily made of) refined carbohydrates, and while they seem to tolerate fatty sources, such as processed dairy, their anatomy is poorly suited for dealing with high-protein foods like beans and meat. - In fact, all forms of contact with exposed animal meat itself will cause it to dissolve and meld into their own flesh, via an incredibly painful process. - On contact with water from Earth, their skin will receive harsh chemical burns (This has been explained by Vasquez to be a consequence of impurities and man-made pollutants, which Irkens seem sensitive to). - While I’m already on a roll about their skin, it also contains/produces a substance capable of killing lice.

Now, I think we’ve all heard a lot about sqeedily spooches, but does anyone else want to keep marinating a second longer on the topic of s k i n ? Because I have some damn thoughts to release about Zim’s outer casing.

Let’s Get Chemical

First hot take, and the hill I am willing to be slain on: That ain’t actually skin! At least, it is nothing chemically alike to Earth-native vertebrate skin. I’ve given all of the above and the general running theme about Irkens resembling arthropods a lot of thought, and I’ve come to about the only conclusion I could that makes their dermis equivalent… make sense.

See, one of the biggest traits that sets apart invertebrates from other animals in real life is the “innie or outie” skeleton question, but you gotta understand that the “skeletons” that bugs and crabs have would still be considered something completely different from our endoskeletons even if they were on the inside. The hard tissues that make up OUR skeletal systems are mostly made up of a *collagen (remember that word!) frame that is reinforced by calcium, phosphorus, and other minerals. The hard parts of an ant’s skeleton, on the other foot, are mainly composited of chitin.

Chitin, now, is a very neat substance. It’s a polysaccharide, meaning that it’s made up of a bunch of sugar molecules chained together. This makes it distinct from proteins, which are made of amino acid chains instead of carbs. Chitin is also one of the single most important structural polymers in the universe to a ton of existing life. It makes up the literal backbone of arthropods and the cell walls of all fungi. We’ve even found it in fish scales and some amphibians. So, must also be important to humans, right? NAH. Not a chance. Higher animals actually long ditched the ability to synthesize the stuff, and are not any the worse for it, since there’s more than one way to stick a bunch of creature pieces together. For two examples, keratin and *collagen are proteins we naturally synthesize that functionally do the same thing. Keratin is the hard substance that makes up hair & fingernails, and collagen is practically the wonderglue of flesh: It’s a fundamental binder that holds together your bones, your skin, your precious muscle meats, the ligaments, the tendies, the nerves…

pretty much the whole person blueprint if you get the picture.

And thus concludes your (VERY overly simplified) highshcool bio class recap, but what the hell did that have to do with the cartoon spacemen again? I’m gonna round back to them through a funny secret about exoskeletons, actually: They have a softer part, too! Chitin’s hella diverse in its forms and utility. What’s in an exoskeleton is actually a version of it modified with other materials (like what’s done to collagen in bone) to make it so rigid and shell-like. A purer chitin, on the other hand, is more leathery and flexible, less like the shell of a beetle and more like the squishy wall around a caterpillar or maggot. Even the hard bodied insects still have an endocuticle layer like this hiding just under the “shell”, still considered part of the whole exoskeleton, but suddenly looking and acting more like we’d call a skin.

Eh, see where I’m going with this? My conviction is this- Irkens may have used to be even more arthropodal in an earlier stage of their evolution, including BOTH an internal skeleton, and some form of protective exoskeleton in their body plan. And hey, maybe the two were extensions of the same system once, too. You recognize something like that in modern tortoises when you remember that their “shells” are actually just the bone structure of their own ribcage. Then, let’s say that Irkens later saw the loss of their heavier exocuticle, leaving behind the endoskeleton and the flexible inner (now just an outer) cuticle of what used to be an entire body shell. This could have been a gradual change, via natural selection, or it could have been another artificial mutation brought on by technology- wherein the elder brains decided the feature was less efficient and simply phased it out of the cloning process- the same as the loss of their species’ sexual organs.

But, you’re thinking, why on Irk would the loss of an entire badass armor layer be beneficial to their fitness? Few reasons- For one, they are cumbersome and limiting. The downgrade on freedom of movement and flexibility they would be for a bipedal humanoid is self-explanatory enough. When it came to structural integrity, the inner skeleton would have already done a well job with little modification. For all the protection they provide, they don’t leave much room for expansion, and need to be shed in order for the animal to grow any further or to recover from certain injuries. The process of molting itself would be an excruciating process for any intelligent species to have to endure; one that also temporarily leaves the critter in a very vulnerable and stressed state for every molt. To advance from more primitive origins into a dominant race, manual dexterity and mobility would have to take a front seat over a small amount of modest defenses, and mind you, Irk long ago woulda managed to compensate for that loss in the form of advanced weaponry (obviously).

I’m also of the mind that the shift away from an exoskeleton could have even been the key to allowing the Irkens to even grow to the size they are now. Recall back to Part One for a second, where I shared the likely case for Irk having a massive bulk behind its gravity field. Gravity is a hard thing on any skeletal structure, representing a constant strain to be fought against when moving, growing, and bearing weight .There’s a lot of factors behind why we don’t have horse sized spiders or elephant sized lobsters IRL, and weight is actually one of them. Notice how terrestrial isopods only get about to the size of a bean, but the aquatic ones can top out at over a foot long? And that’s only having Earth’s level of gravity to struggle against, let alone however harsh the conditions would be on a larger planet. So, there’s my framework for explaining what I think the aliens’ cuticle is not; however, what does that mean for what it is, besides “feels and looks like a grub’s”?

Well, look again at some of the extraordinary things it can do.

Cooties Immunity

“Germs” was a memorable episode that posed a very legitimate question to the viewer. Why IS IT that foreign pathogens aren’t a bigger concern for the invaders? They’re literally sent off to other worlds to blend in: Socializing with the native inhabitants, eating their foods, and living in an alien habitat. In the case of an undiscovered rock like Earth, our infectious diseases would have no reference available to the Armada whatsoever. Sure, species incompatibility would provide some protection, but the risk of something carrying over and adapting is always still there. Zoonoptic jumps happen all the time with bacteria and viruses, and Zim’s body temperature IS in the normal human range. And what about fungal pathogens, or parasites-

Oh, wait, the lice episode gave it away right there.

I love this sequence so much, because it’s coincidentally like, an exact “art imitates life” parallel to something a real species of primate does. Black lemurs live in the same area of Madagascar as these vibrant, red millipedes.

The millipedes are special because when threatened, they secrete a poisonous substance from their skin. The lemurs are special because they like to grab the bugs and nibble them for no other reason than to make them release those toxins. Those chemicals are then rubbed into their fur, because somehow the lemurs figured out it makes a really handy mosquito repellant. The lemurs also like to get completely zonked out on the chemicals too but eyy- Point was it stands to reason that Irkens may also secrete small amounts of their own potent toxin from the cuticle, perhaps for more hygienic than defensive purposes. This secretion would be responsible for protecting them from parasites and topical infections. Could it also make people blazed out of their minds? …Maybe? I think I’d like to promote the “Just Say No” policy on the matter of licking aliens, though. Ffs at least ask them out to dinner first.

When it comes to other kinds of sick, looks like it might be the trusty old PAK to the rescue here again. I imagine that, being an intergalactic, partially mechanical civilization, the Irken race has come down this road enough to put in a workaround. A standard PAK contains the entirety of the population’s collective knowledge/history- which would include a catalog of all known infectious agents they have encountered across the universe. Some kind of nanobot-bolstered immune system that could detect and respond appropriately to new threats isn’t out of the question, nor should a feature that can automatically administer the appropriate medicine directly into the wearer’s bloodstream. For all this awesomeness, nonetheless, there remains a downside or two that they haven’t quite conquered..

The Meaty, Sweety, Mending of DOOM

Anyone ever actually think about how as far as resilience is concerned, Zim is practically an X-man compared to any Earthling? He has regenerative capabilities that surpass anything else on earth, save idk, bamboo shoots, if even. Injuries that would leave a human permanently disabled only seem to incapacitate an Irken for a few hours to a day at most. They’re all the more tough to put out of commission when considering that a PAK doubles as a form of backup life support, ready to “soft reboot” the host with a quick jolt if it detects a sudden drop in vital signs. It is tempting to credit the same device as the source of this healing boost as well, teasing the nanobot suggestion again; however, I see a chance instead to bring this back a step.

Although not as quick-acting as Zim, or Skoodge’s healing, there are some remarkable examples of regeneration in real arthropods, from repairing tissues/organs to replacing entire lost limbs. What the aliens are packing doesn’t seem all that different, only refined (through years of bioengineering) to work at a truly frightening efficiency. It shows through in their diet as well. Almost always, if we see a member of this species eating on screen, and believe me there was no shortage of examples, what are we watching them shovel their face with?

Space doughnuts, space popcorn, space Fun-Dip, sodas, and curly fries. Sure, there’s plenty of calories here, no doubt with the amount of carbs and grease that could even turn the stomach of a college freshman, but is this… nutrition?

Yes. Just not for us.

Like their civilization, we have also turned the mass production of sweet-packed, fat loaded foods into one of our favored art forms, and there are scattered pockets of our planet that can enjoy these items in cheap abundance. The catch 22? Obesity and heart disease. Meanwhile, Irkens are so metabolically blessed that they can follow the same lifestyle and actually be thriving by it. We know that the majority of human food is utterly toxic to Zim, but then there were waffles, a literal stack of dessert and butter that pretends to be a breakfast…. Our guy was experiencing the “finally some good fucking food” meme from the first bite off that plate, but this can’t seriously be healthy,or if it is, then how?

Well, if I did sell you on the idea that much of their tissues and skeleton swaps out a chitin base where we would be using protein, there you go. Sugars for the building blocks to synthesize the connective/structural tissues for maintaining the body, and the bulk of the energy required to keep it running. And I won’t make the leap and suggest that’s all they have.

After all, the Irken equivalent of sandwiches do actually seem to contain “lettuce” and something that people will say looks like meat slices while not convincing me. I can get behind the thought of the natural or maybe original Irken diet to be a mix of plant matter and supplemental fungi, but everything I’ve put together implies that they are completely unfit for processing the goodies in animal flesh.

Overwhelmingly, I believe that the only time they possibly even seek out more sources of amino acids is going to be when they are smeets. That’s how it works in many wasp species. I.e. The growing larvae are the only ones that actually get to reap from the hard work of a colony hunting down enough protein to feed them with, yet the adults live out the rest of their lives more than content to gorge themselves on nectars and fruits exclusively!

And you even could put that aside, but you’ll have to grapple with the ungodly thing that happens every single time you see Zim touching a piece of meat. Would be awfully convenient to blame it on his personal brand of weirdness, or earth contaminants, but we remember this was a weakness that Tak approached fully aware of and expecting.

We know that polluted water can burn them. We know that beans and other foods can give them grotesque allergic reactions. Well what in the horrifying name of Resident Evil is this, though? Buddy pals, I think we got some unintended consequences of that bio-hacking on hand. Collagen and chitin aren’t just functionally similar to each other, they are practically analogous building blocks.

For a WILD science fact, consider that there’s a ton of ongoing research into the application of chitin and chitin-derivatives into having a role in tissue engineering, as a hypothetical scaffold in lab cultured meat, and as an effective wound dressing ingredient.

What we’re seeing with incidents like Dib throwing that Bologna at Zim could be an extreme form of the vise versa, because I know a certain protein that processed meat happens to be pretty high in :)))

Imagine the coupling of this with the bioengineered genome of Zim’s kind being so… reactive to a foreign intrusion, yet also flexible to modification. Maybe it is the acids, or some contaminant/seasoning on the meat that first damages the cuticle. That healing ability kicks in, but doesn’t stop where chitin does, readily binding to and with the collagens in these strange tissues that are sorta like an Irken’s but also just enough not like an Irken’s that it also kicks the immune system into overdrive. Think of all the pain and inflammation of a poison ivy rash but if the damn plant itself could also fuse itself with whatever you brushed against it. I think Zim actually had an understandable reason to be homicidally pissed off for that Bologna assault. Also how the Bologna virus was accelerated in Zim’s body. Once it had incorporated itself into his own DNA, it was game set and match with the speed and help those cells had to replicate themselves.

And uh, yeah, I think this post has gotten about as long as it reasonably should be here. I did have a couple more points I really wanted to get out of my brain about the Almighty Tallest, and I think that would be a good launching point actually for a possible (and hopefully final jfc) part three to this. Till then I got some off-topic scoliids to taxidermy 👀

#invader zim #iz fandom #irkens #xenobiology #iz #scarlet talks about things #long post #we hyperfixating #absolute ramblings i mean holy crap #cool bug facts #sci fi

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queergaygaygaygay · 1 year

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Don’t know if this has blown up on Tumblr but, in the new Spiderverse film (spoilers), we see Gwen’s room which features a trans pride flag above her door. We also see a smaller flag sowed into her father’s police jacket.

They have been some theories sparked off by this with people speculating if Gwen is trans or just an ally. I find the argument about allyship to not quite hold up given where the flag is located. Someone’s bedroom is a very personal space and Gwen has only had one friend before Miles so it seems like the flag isn’t a social indicator for allyship but something more personal.

It’s perfectly possible that Gwen feels such close allyship that she keeps a pride flag in her room but I can’t really think of a justification for this. This level of passion for allyship would probably come out of a personal connection to a trans person but Gwen has very few people she feels close to (especially at the start of the film), namely: Peter Parker and her dad. These are the only people that could’ve inspired her allyship and it is possible for these characters to be trans, and one or both of these characters being trans would explain the trans flag on her dad’s police uniform since Peter was close with her dad, however I cannot find any further evidence of these character’s transness though it is possible.

It is semi-plausible to say Gwen saw trans people struggling online, and her father was convinced by this to wear a pride flag on his uniform to show allyship, though I personally don’t know any allies who have pride flags in their room.

This also seems like a strange detail for a film that is so purposeful in its visual nuances so I would imagine the reasoning behind this is less convulated than the allyship theories.

Another clue to her possible transness could be in her universe’s animation style which uses blues, purples, whites and pinks- the colours of the trans pride flag.

When I was watching the film, I spotted the trans flag and thought it was interesting. I hadn’t heard the rumours or even watched the full trailer. As the plot unfolded, I made some comparisons between Gwen Stacy’s expierience in the film and my own trans experience; the alienation from society, the anger at the world, the search for a community, the disconnect with family and the eventual acceptance of family. This made me feel a rather intimate connection with the character and her story and I think it’s actually encouraging me to come out to my mother but I haven’t yet (I asked if I could go to pride with friends and she said yes so hopefully that gives me the confidence).

This subtle but poignant dropping of the trans flag into the film, the film’s nature of making every detail significant and the clear comparison between her character arc and the general trans experience gives me the impression that the team behind the film intended for Gwen to be allegorically, or even canonically, trans and, if so, I hope they do more with this since I was genuinely brought to tears.

Whilst we can not prove Gwen is trans, we can’t prove she isn’t trans and, as explained, it isn’t impossible. I read through the reddit post and found a lot of people, unsurprisingly, saying that this is just Twitter making everyone think everyone is trans and she is conclusively not trans but I don’t use Twitter (as a loyal Tumblr girl) or had heard anything about Gwen’s story arc so my experience was as organic as anyone’s experience who came out of the cinema thinking she was cis. This stubborness to not believe Gwen could be trans is ignorant, from my perspective, because there’s no reason to say she isn’t trans. It’s more logical to assume characters are cis because most people are cis statistically but, here, we have evidence for possible transness so it feels more like a Shrödinger’s transgender- where a character could be trans, due to non-conclusive evidence, or could be cis, depending on what the writers (in regards to cannon) and fans (in regards to headcannon and fan works) choose.

Thanks for reading. I love the film regardless of this detail and would happily nerd out with any fans. If you want any citations, I’ll hand you them through dms. I would add them here but I don’t know if that would be unusual.

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dreamlandiasims · 7 months

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Erwin: Back in the 70s, Strangerville was a military base and research facility. Well, it was a town before that, too, but the government presence really made it what it is today. The story is they got a report one day of some strange plant growing here and the feds rolled into to check it out. Turns out, the plant was alien in nature. The military did their best to cover it up, but it caught the attention of some of the early ufologists, namely the Curious brothers. Long story short, the military lost control of the situation, the plant-alien threatened to take over the town, and the ufologists had to dispose of it.

Frankie: There’s no way a single word of that is true.

Erwin: Yeah, well, that’s what a lot of people said to the Curious brothers. The government sealed the case up tight, and without any proof, no one believed them. Anyways, the town was pretty quiet after that. Officially, the military operation here was done. But in reality, they had worked out an under-the-table deal with some private organization, which bought the lab and took over research there.

Frankie: I met someone at the lab who said he owned it—well, paid for it at least. Ted Roswell?

Erwin: Ah, the Roswells. So this organization that bought the lab, it’s called Agnos. I don’t know much about it—there’s, like, nothing online—but it seems to involve the leaders and wealthy elite of cities all over the country. I’m talking Del Sol Valley, San Myshuno, Willow Creek… I don’t think the Roswells are really involved at the highest level. But they have the money to keep the lab in operation, so they’re given just enough power and influence to stay loyal.

Frankie: Wait… so how does BioSim Tech come into all of this?

Erwin: Well, now that’s the next piece of the puzzle. BioSim Tech is a real, legit company—but it’s owned by Agnos. They seem to dabble in a lot of different industries, but “bio engineering” is their main focus. On paper, the company is dedicated to “developing cutting edge solutions towards a brighter future for Sims everywhere”.

Frankie: Okay, sure.

Erwin: So it seems like they’re working on cures for disease, operations to increase longevity, things like that. But—and this part is just my theory, by the way—I think it’s all a front. I think what they’re really interested in is Strangerville’s connection to the extraterrestrial.

Frankie: Here we go…

Erwin: See, the alien plant… no one knows how it got here. It just appeared one day. Now, one of the leading theories among ufologists is that there are certain places in the world—places where there’s a higher frequency of abduction stories, UFO sightings, what have you—and that this means that the fabric, the material, separating our world from others is thinner, or more fragile. And so, periodically there are events that may cause a small tear—

Frankie: Aaaand you’ve lost me. How does any of this help me find my mom?

Erwin: I’m getting to that, if you’ll just listen…

Frankie: I’m trying! Could you get there a little faster maybe?

Erwin: Fine. Forget my theories, here’s what I know. A few years ago a new team of scientists showed up, some sort of changing of the guard. Still part of BioSim Tech, but… different somehow. More secretive, more controlling. And things have been weird here ever since. Technology going haywire, people losing their memories, and… well… people coming to town and never leaving.

Frankie: Wait, what?

Erwin: It’s not every person that drives through. But every now and then, they’ll decide to stick around—sometimes they’re tourists, sometimes… they have car trouble. And within a few days, they’ve disappeared. No one sees them leave, but we all just assume they skipped town. You know… helps us sleep at night.

Frankie: And you didn’t think to tell me this sooner?

Erwin: Look, I’m sorry. Like I said, it’s not every person that comes through. I didn’t want to scare you unnecessarily. Also… they scare the shit out of me. Agnos seems to have eyes and ears everywhere. People that go out of their way to warn others… also disappear.

Frankie: … What are they doing with the people they take?

Erwin: That… I don’t know.

Frankie: Then let’s find out.

Erwin: I, erm, what?

Frankie: You and me, Merlin. We’re getting into that lab.

#ooh this is a big one guys!#if anyone disagrees with my take on the sims lore... i don't wanna know lmao #sims 4 #sims 4 story #ts4 #ts4 story #pla #frankie mitchell #erwin pries

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thesaltwateremu · 5 months

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I’ve seen a lot of people saying that norris and chester can’t be jmart because you’re able to listen to tmagp without any knowledge of tma. Here’s why I disagree

I feel like it’s fairly common for sequels to be written with the intention that it’s still understandable from an outside perspective. With movies especially this makes sense since i at least don’t think it’s uncommon for people to watch sequels without seeing the original (I mean really, how many of us have seen every marvel movie. Or with the new hunger games movie, a lot of my friends who watched it had never seen the original triology)

From a monetary standpoint, you want to make your sequel accessible to as many people as possible. With tma, there’s 200 episodes. That can be really overwhelming for someone unsure if they want to listen to protocol. By making it possible to listen to tmagp without having listened to tma, they are way more likely to listen, and might even go back and listen to tma. Marvel is a good comparison here: there’s a lot of marvel movies. It’s overwhelming for someone to have to watch all of them to understand the plot, so marvel makes their sequels work as standalones, while it is obviously more enjoyable if you’ve watched others. Same deal with hunger games. Also the friends I mentioned before who had never watched the original movies now really want to see them, bringing more money to the franchise

Jmart being in tmagp really wouldn’t be that alienating for new listeners. The main thing that would make tmagp difficult to listen to without context from tma is worldbuilding. However, this problem is avoided due to tmagp taking place in a completely different universe. Even original tma fans don’t have much world building to go off of. This is actually a big reason why I think the fears will be different in tmagp. It took so long for that world building to occur, it’d be boring for old listeners to hear the same thing again, and confusing for new ones to go on without it. Jmart is different because they’re just two characters. Sure, we’ll have a better understanding of who they are if we’ve listened to tma, but I feel like it’s not that difficult to quickly sum up their realtionship and their past in a way that’s understandable to new listeners. Plus we would need some backstory anyways since we don’t really know how they ended up in the tmagp universe

I almost think it’d be a missed opportunity if they didn’t have jmart or some other direct connection to tma in tmagp because one big reason for making sequels is bringing more attention to the original piece of media. Having a direct connection to tma, especially if it’s explained in a way that’s brief and intriguing could make new listeners more likely to go back and listen to tma

TLDR: tmagp could have jmart because it’s pretty common for movies and other media to make their sequels understandable for new viewers, and it wouldn’t take that much effort for there to be a quick explanation of who jmart is for new listeners

This wasn’t meant to attack anyone who’s been saying this, I’m just providing a counterpoint. If you disagree, that’s completely fine, I’m not here to start beef with strangers on the internet. Feel free to leave your thoughts agreeing, disagreeing, or otherwise, just be nice about it :) (this goes for all posts of people posting their thoughts and theories btw, we have so little info to go off of, just let people speculate without shutting them down)

(also I realize this post kinda sounds like I’m saying rusty quill is only making a sequel for money and attention. This is absolutely not what I’m saying, these are just often reasons that sequels are made, in addition to loving the story, characters, fandom, etc)

#back on my norris and chester are jmart bullshit #this isn’t me saying that jmart are for sure going to be in tmagp #ive just gotten annoyed with how many people think there won’t be any connection to tma because you can listen without context #was this post coherent??#probably not #i do agree that jmart being the computers is a little obvious #feels like they’re trying to take our attention off something else #BUT LET ME INDULGE IN MY DELUSIONS OK #I need them safe :(#tmagp #the magnus protocol #jmart #chester tmagp #norris tmagp #norris and chester #tmagp theory #tmagp spoilers #This was a long post #i was having THOUGHTS

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minecraft-inspo · 1 year

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Why are slimes placed as an early branch off of the kingdom Animalia?

Slimes are enigmatic. Taken at face value, they could fit anywhere or nowhere in the tree. They tick all of the boxes required to be defined as an animal, but don’t closely resemble any real phylum, though they do bear some resemblance to certain basal animal groups such as ctenophores and cnidarians.

Why is the elytra branching off from the insects?

The word elytra refers to the hard wings of beetles. This is where beetles would be placed on the tree.

Why is the shulker a mollusk?

It’s a shelled invertebrate - anything beyond this is unclear. It has a pair of shells like a bivalve, but could belong to any of a number of different related groups.

Why is the sea pickle so close to vertebrates?

The sea pickle is either based on a real life sea cucumber (an echinoderm), or a sea pickle (a tunicate). Either way, both of these groups are deuterostomes, which means they, like us, develop their anus before their mouth. Yeah.

Why are guardians labeled as manufactured?

It’s an idea I’m not totally sold on, but a theory nevertheless. It has been posited that guardians were created to guard underwater monuments and are not actually animals. I am of the opinion that if this is the case, they are still at least partially biological, as they do drop edible raw fish. In this case, they likely represent a lineage of jawless fish comparable to real life ostracoderms that was further modified for their role as temple guardians.

Why are the dragon and sniffer related? Why do they branch off the tree so early?

Both are 6 limbed, meaning they are not tetrapods, the group which includes all real terrestrial vertebrates. Instead, they may represent a different lineage of fishes which separately developed a third limb girdle and then followed a line of parallel evolution with the tetrapods. This is comparable to the various invasions of land by arthropods, in which arachnids, myriapods and insects separately evolved mechanisms of terrestrialization while also convergently evolving many of the same structures as each other.

Aren’t creepers described as “plant-like?” Why are they included with the vertebrates?

They have indeed often been described as plant-like by various developers. It is my belief that they are vertebrates with a symbiotic relationship with some form of plant, probably a moss. This is why they are also included in Bryophyta on the other side of the tree. All promotional merchandise that shows creeper internal anatomy shows the presence of bones and the general anatomy reflects a familiar yet distorted version of the common tetrapod body plan. They do not share much in common with either reptiles or mammals, and so I split them off early in the vertebrate portion of the tree. While creepers share a developmental history with pigs, they do not actually bear any synapomorphies to suggest this relationship is canon, and so I chose not to place them nearby.

Why are phantoms reptiles?

I’m honestly not sure what else they could be. The underside of the texture reminds me of the plastron of a turtle, though the wings are arguably more bat-like than anything else. Phantoms are all undead and their living version is likely now extinct, so we can’t fully understand the anatomy they would have had.

Why are striders synapsids? What is a synapsid?

Synapsids are mammals and their extinct, reptile-like ancestors. Striders have hair, like living mammals, but otherwise share very little with modern mammals, suggesting they split off early in synapsid evolution.

What is the warden/sculk?

I don’t know. It’s very purposefully the most alien life in Minecraft. Most realistically, I think it’s not from the overworld at all. However, that’s not really in the spirit of this project. Therefore, I hypothetically place it as a fungus, as fungi are capable of the sprawling growth in dark environments and possible parasitism in the case of the warden itself.

Why are blazes labeled as “manufactured?”

I haven’t got a clue what blazes could be. Are they sentient fire? Are they living creatures that mimic fire? Who knows. I finally ended up considering them to be something akin to vexes or golems - summoned by someone or something to guard nether fortresses, rather than naturally evolved creatures. This is actually supported by a really old (and likely since retconned) article from the Minecraft website. https://www.minecraft.net/en-us/article/visit-nether-

Why is glow lichen connected to two separate branches?

Because lichen is a symbiotic structure formed by both algae and fungi!

Why are chorus plants where they are?

They are angiosperms, meaning they bear flowers and fruit, but do not have the characteristics of either of the more derived major lineages of flowering plants.

Why are dripleaf plants alismatales?

To me, they bear a great resemblance to members of the arum family, such as elephant ear plants, arrowhead plants, and Monstera.

Torchflower?

It bears greatest resemblance to bromeliads, a group of plants related to grasses.

Why is the spore blossom placed where it is?

The spore blossom is another anomalous species. If “spore” is taken seriously, it must be a fern. However, ferns don’t have flowers, so I assumed the spores are actually just pollen. I placed it as a dicot based on the fact that dicots typically have flowers with 4-5 petals, while monocots have flowers with petals in multiples of 3.

Why aren’t vines and glow berry vines placed together?

The “vine” form has evolved dozens of times in separate lineages of plants, just like the “tree” form. It alone is not enough to indicate a close relationship. I tentatively placed vines where the grape family would go, and placed the glow berries where staff vines (Celastrus) should be.

Why aren’t dead bushes grouped with sweet berry bushes and azaleas?

Like vines and trees, “bush” is a description of a body form and not an evolutionary group. I depicted the dead bush as a real form of desert bush, a tumbleweed, specifically the Russian thistle, a common tumbleweed in the order Caryophyllales.

Sweet berries, on the other hand, are most likely based on lingonberries, a commonly grown crop in Sweden, where Mojang is based. These belong to the order Ericales along with azaleas, as well as many other common plants not yet represented in the game such as blueberries and cranberries.

Pitcher plants are real - why isn’t there a “confirmed” lineage on the tree?

Pitcher plants have evolved several times in different lineages, and there is no clear indication which ones the ones in Minecraft are. In fact, most likely, the Minecraft pitcher plants don’t belong to any real group of pitcher plants, as none of these produce “pods” nor do they have similar leaves. However, the most likely candidates are the family Nepenthaceae (order Caryophylalles) or the family Sarraceniaceae (order Ericales).

#minecraft #infographic #explanation #evolution #biology

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