#I was going to go with something similar for Silas back when I first made him

[bitchfitch]

The night shift at Uncle Jim-Jim's Arcade and Fun Complex had gotten a lot less spooky since Silas learned the true nature of the monster which haunted the place. He double checked his work like he did every night, a final round of inspection through the massive and dimly lit building before returning to the arcade.

It was rare the 'monster' stayed quiet the whole night, usually prefering to follow Silas around the building while dicking around on his phone until it was time to go wherever they felt like going that night.

"Bats!" Silas called from the entrance, "I'm done. Do you want to go bother ducks in the park or something?"

There was no response from the dark room beyond.

"Chase? You're here right? I'm not talking to nothing?" Silas asked before whipping around, expecting the bastard to have snuck up behind him, but there was only the empty lobby. No waif of a vampire looking like a victorian orphan boy lost in time emerging from the shadows.

"Chase? Seriously, Bats, I'm starting to worry," Silas walked into the room, grabbing the step stool from behind the prize counter as he passed.

He approached the crane games, and set his stool down, climbing up to get a better look at the coffin that rested on top of them. Still fully closed, no gap between the lid and the box that Chase liked to keep while he slept.

Silas knocked on its side anyways, "Babe? You in there?"

he got a loud, drawn off groan in return.

"Everything ok in there?"

"Nooooo," Chase whined from within.

"Gonna tell me what's up?"

"No."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"... No."

"Ok, then you're going to have to come out, I'm not going to stay perched on this all night, my darling."

the lid cracked open a hair, "It's rude to try and make people come out you know? Very problematic."

"Funny, how making an old man climb a crane game to talk to you is also, what did you call it, 'problematic'?"

"Cringe," Chase huffed.

"Yeah, well at least I'm trying to stay hip. Come on, we can go back to my place and watch a movie or something."

"No. Its- I love you, but please just leave."

"I love you too, and I'll go if you really want me to, but will you at least give me a hint on what's happening? Did I do something to upset you?"

"If I tell you you're going to be stupid about it."

"Let's be honest, I was going to be stupid about it no matter what." he grinned when that silly joke got a giggle out of Chase.

"... Promise to go straight home? Lock your doors and salt lines around every entrance. Extra garlic by the windows."

"Chase, are you in danger-"

"Promise."

"I promise, I promise, swear it on my parents' graves."

"Thank you," the lid opens fully, Chase sitting up, his hair a mess and his pale face streaked red with dried tears, "My sire is back from his trip, and I just want to keep a low profile until he leaves again. He ..." Chase grimaces, "He and I arn't a thing. Haven't been for years, but he doesn't agree with that. I- I really don't want him knowing about you, ok?"

"Chase..." Silas has to pick apart the layers of what Chase just said to him, "I- Let's start with this, What do you mean he's your Sire? Like, he's your father?"

"No, He's the guy who turned me into a vamp. He... No, not dealing with that tonight, putting that memory back into it's box. He turned me, he thinks we're still a thing and is the worst person ever, and would absolutely kill you if he found out I was quote un-quote cheating on him with you. That's All you need to know," chase rambles off. "Leave, I'll text you when he's gone again,"

Silas nods, he and Chase would talk about this more later, "Do you want me to vamp proof the entrances? I've got salt hoses in the trunk and everything already."

"No. He'll know someone is helping me and be... Listen Silas, I- He's not going to be happy with me no matter what and he's never been reasonable. It's going to be a lot safer and easier to just let him have what he wants until he fucks off again."

"Bats is he-"

"Don't say it. Yeah he is. I- I don't want him to but he is and there's no stopping it. If you aren't comfy with that... I dunno, break up with me or something." he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, "Or just break up with me anyways because dating a vampire was a stupid idea and dating me specifically was an even stupider idea."

"I'm not breaking up with you for what's being done against your will," Silas's brow furrowed.

"I know, you're too nice and good and -"

"I'm not to good for you either, keep out of that doom spiral too."

"Meanie."

"Yeah. Cruelest fucker in this city at your service. But I'm serious, do I need to call Mindy? I don't like that she kills people but this is a guy who sounds like he needs to be dead."

"Chances are he'll just kill her. He's not like every other vamp she's hunted or any of the other monsters kicking around. He was the first and he's not nearly as easy to kill as the rest of us."

"But he can be killed?"

"You Promised you wouldn't be stupid about this."

"I'm not being stupid."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not being stupid Yet, then."

"Silas. Please, Please Please Pretty Pleas I am actually Begging you. Go home. Come back for your next shift, pretend you don't know me while you're here. Leave as soon as it hits closing even. I'll handle cleaning up for the night and everything."

"You suck at cleaning," Silas sighed, "I'll go. I'll be real clever and smart. But, when it's all done, Promise me you'll come to my place and let me baby you for a bit? Take you on a nice date, and then maybe actually talk about what's happening here?"

"I won't want to."

"I know, but I don't want you to have to be alone in this. You can tell me anything and just get it out of your system. Ok? Then you can beat me at one of the videogames you keep 'forgetting' at my place or whatever. Deal?"

Chase looks at him, his face half hidden behind his knees, but his expression is still so obviously soft. The pain and nerves keeping him tense, but the love is all there, "Deal."

[darkbluekies]

The origin of the ocs

Silas Achilleos:

I have always loved to write and read mafia fics. I wrote them before I wrote fanfiction, during fanfiction and now. When I created this account, I wanted a mafia man who's main characteristic was that he was kinky. I didn't like the ones I had read about that bent their partner over their lap for every little thing and that their entire relationship was built on sex. I wanted someone that felt human. So i made him in November 2022.

Silas name comes from a store I used to walk by all the time. I have no recollection of knowing about the name before I saw that store, so unconsiously the name must have come from there. I liked it because it was a name I hadn't been familiar with and I could "mold" the name to whatever I wanted, i had no connection to a certain person. I could make my own. His surname, Achilleos, was chosen because it reminded me of the character "achilles" and how he was untouchable besides one part of his body. Like this, i wanted darling to be Silas "achilles heel".

Silas personality comes from my want of something different. I wanted some humor, some drama, some weak spot. I made him childish, hypocritical, emotional. I didn't want him to be 2d.

Dr Karl Kry:

I have always loved the atmosphere of hospitals. I don't know why. They almost give me "backroom" vibes. I thought that it could be interesting to try to write about a doctor even though I have no medical knowledge. I have always loved to write characters that are weak and dependent on someone, which would work perfectly if I created a doctor. I created him in December 2022.

Dr Karl Kry's name comes from swedish. "Karl" means "man" and "Kry" means the opposite of being sick (not sure if english has the exact word). I thought that it could be fun if a doctor had that surname because only swedes/nordics would be able to get that little joke.

His personality is a bit of a mixture between the sterotypical swede and an opposite to what you think a doctor should be like. He's cold, quiet, doesn't like touch and is very modest while still being very professional and "sweet". He is quite old fashioned and carries traits that were normal then.

King Edmund of Vesanus

He wasn't supposed to be a character. I had gotten inspired to write the "Masquarade massacre/dance with death" oneshot because of a music video i used to watch when i was a kid (Eric Saade: Masquarade) and i wrote the oneshot in January 2023. It quickly became my most liked story so I decided to add him to the characters.

Edmund's name was originally Edward, but I have a character in one of my private novels with the same name and I thought that it would be weird for me if I named them the same thing. I decided to use a similar name and I decided upon Edmund. It sounded like it could belong to a royal. His kingdom "Vesanus" is in latin and means "mad/insane/frenzied" and I thoght that fit him extremely well.

His personality comes from the stereotypical spoiled king imagine, but I also wanted to make him ... human? He is a teenage boy who doesn't know who he is and only knows that he is the crown. He is lost and I think that shows. Edmund is ignorant, spoiled, rude and yet teasing, humorous, childish and caring.

Jerry (Yubin) Kim:

My first girl. She was created as a side character in a kpop mafia fanfiction i wrote back in 2020 and then reaccured in another kpop mafia fanfiction i wrote in 2021, although she was not a yandere back then. I loved her character and knew that I had to add her here.

Her name is special, to me. I don't remember why I named her Jerry, all I know is that I wanted a male name for a girl, and Jerry is a boy name that also feel like a girls name. That is the name she goes by, but her birth name is Yubin, although she doesn't go by that anymore. Her surname is a popular surname in korean, so that doesn't have much behind it.

Her personality is a rollercoaster. When I created her back in 2020, she was a bit different to what she is now. She was much happier, joked a lot, didn't have much darkness in her. She was pretty flat. Now that she's here, she has evolved into a much more human like character, much more rounded. She is a pretender. She feels one thing but pretends to feel different. All her joking persona isn't all real, she is pretty emotional. Jerry has many layers and many emotions she can't understand, she feels a lot of guilt, fear, love and hate, but presents a careless, joking girl to everyone else.

Hedwig Carter:

Hedwig is a character that was evolved from another character I was writing. In the beginning of this account, i tried out different kinds of characters to find the ones I wanted. I was writing a "quiet kid" yandere oneshot because I wanted this typical yandere setting, aka being in school. But I didn't like the character, I already had men (kry and silas) and I wanted it to feel like yandere simulator, so I scrapped that oneshot and created a girl. She wasn't supposed to be rich, but I decided to add it to have more to work with. I created her out on an evening walk in January 2023.

I don't like when characters who are supposed to be "normal" have "non-normal" names. I cannot imagine a girl who goes to school like everyone else having a name like "elowen", "amethyst" etc. i want the name to fit the situation and feel natural. Hedwig is one of those names. It feels wealthy, yet natural. It is distinctive, yet normal. The name Carter came to me when playing the game "titanic adventure out of time" when you have to go down to the cargo and the steward are like "YOURE A CARTER!!!" because the Carters owned the car that was on board the ship and a car in 1912 was expensive and etc. The name just stuck with me and felt like old money wealth, which she is.

Hedwig's personality is meant to be the opposite to Jerry, but they are quite alike too. Hedwig is sweet, innocent and loving. She doesn't like being mean. I wanted a rich popular girl that wasn't rude, entitled or a mean girl. Hedwig has a hard time controlling her emotions and can easily become "hysteric". I wanted an opposite to what's usually done - the rich popular girl is the one obsessed with someone instead of the other way around.

[boowhumps]

Whumpril 2024

Day 6 - Dizziness

⚠TW⚠

- Swearing

- Mentions of Alcohol

- Mentions of Drugs

- Mentions of SA

- Mentions of Prostitution (kinda ig)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

The streets were bustling with life, bright lights flashing as the city refused to sleep.

In the midst of it all, there was them, hidden amongst the plain folk. Blending in so perfectly that you would even spare a second glance at them.

They weren't on any important mission at the moment, more like just looking for a place to have some fun and kill time.

The group of seven individuals walked together, fake ID's ready to help them blend in.

In the back of the group, Amne and Silas walked side by side. Occasionally, their arms would rub up against each other, but neither said anything.

They never did. Amne and Silas would die before admitting that there was something between them. Most people wrote it down to them being friend with benefits, but it was clear that the 'friends' bit wasn't there.

Passing by the local businesses, Amne's eyes wandered. She couldn't help but be amazed at how similar everything still looked. It felt as if she had been gone from the overworld for years, but since time went faster in Celestial, she couldn't be sure how long it had actually been.

Regardless, she kept her head down. She didn't want to risk another incident. She had already been recognized once, an issue that was now solved, but she couldn't risk it again.

The situation left her in a panic, which then turned to a daze. She wanted nothing more than to drown her sorrows in a bottle of tequila, but she had to convince Silas first.

He hadn't left her side since the encounter. If Amne had to guess, he was probably freaked out by her sudden panic attack, considering that she had to explain to him how to calm her down while trying to calm herself down, but now she had him stuck to her like a leech.

A cute leech, but a leech nonetheless.

As the group was about to pass by another bar, Amne tugged on Silas' arm to get his attention.

He immediately perks up. "Yeah.?" He asks.

Amne points to the bar. "I need a drink, you up for it?"

Silas frowns. "You never told me you were a drinker.."

"Must have not come up in conversation then." Amne says. "C'mon, it'll be quick."

Silas looks over to the rest of the group, who seem to have finally agreed on a place to hang out at.

"Should we let them know.?" Silas asks.

Amne shrugs. "Your call, I'll be at the bar." She says before walking away.

Deep inside, a part of her feels like shit for being so dull, but the encounter left her feeling drained.. numb even..

She didn't like feeling numb, it was too harsh of a reminder of who she once was..

However, no numbness can't be fixed with a strong drink, so Amne goes off into the busy-ish bar. She won't drink too much, just enough to get a bit buzzed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Silas walks up to the group, shuffling awkwardly.

"Hey uh, Lua.?" Silas mumbles.

Lua turns. "What's up?"

Silas rubs the back of his neck. "Amne kinda.. ditched and went into a bar.. said she-"

"-needs a drink? Yeah, I figured she would." Lua says, annoyed. "Did you want to join her?"

"I mean, yeah, not to drink, just to keep an eye on her." Silas states clearly.

Lua hums. "Then go on, just don't get into trouble and keep a low profile."

Silas nods. "Right, I'll let Amne know." He replies before walking off to join Amne.

Lua sighs as Freyja shuffles next to her.

"Amne is not.. OK.?" She asks, looking uncertain.

Lua looks over to her. "I never know with her.."

~~~~~~~~~~

The bar is lively, just about as much as Silas expected. Friday nights were expected to be crazy, but Silas imagined that people had other things to do than go drinking at almost midnight.

His eyes scanned the room, locating Amne sitting at the bar. He quickly made his way over to her, taking a seat as Amne started on her first drink.

"Anything I can get for you, sir?" The bartender asks suddenly.

Silas is about to answer when Amne perks up.

"He doesn't drink." She responds.

The bartender nods, and goes to serve other people.

Silas sighs. "..so.. you okay.?"

Amne looks over to him, confused. "Why wouldn't I be.?"

"I mean, you've been.. odd since the incident." Silas mumbles. "Like.. blank."

Amne looks down at her drink. "Is it freaking you out.?"

Silas shakes his head quickly. "No, of course not, I'm just-.." He stops. "Worried, just.. worried."

Amne hums. "Well don't be, I'll be fine after a couple drinks."

Silas frowns. "This isn't healthy, you know?"

"I'm well aware." Amne mumbles.

Silas looks away. "Is this really how you cope?"

"Do you have any better suggestions?" Amne asks coldly.

"I mean.. you could.. talk to me about it?" Silas suggests.

Amne looks at him, then sighs. "I wouldn't want to burden you.."

"You wouldn't be! Trust me, it.. might help a bit.." Silas replies with a soft smile.

Amne starts on her second drink. "Well.. where do I start..?"

"Maybe with, what happened earlier.?" Silas suggests.

Amne nods. "Right, well.."

~~~~~~~~~~

A few words and rounds of drinks later, Amne was wasted. Even with all the things she finally spilled, things even Silas never expected, she was now acting like everything was fine, whether that be by choice or not.

It was now almost 2 am, and Amne showed zero signs of exhaustion, as well as zero signs that she was done drinking.

Silas ended up ordering her water, hoping to sober her up enough so they could get out of here without making a scene, but Amne was so.. cheerful that it wasn't going to be so easy.

"Silas~" Amne laughs, throwing her arms around him. "C'mon, just a few more drinks!"

Silas hums. "At this rate, your heart will stop if I let you drink more."

"And would that be so bad~?" Amne hums, her face getting closer to his.

"Yes, it would." Silas says. "I want to keep you around, believe it or not."

"For what purpose.?" Amne asks. "For my body~?"

Silas gives her a look. "What are you rambling around?"

"You wouldn't be the first guy to pay me for.. services~" Amne purrs. "Nor the last.."

Silas sighs. "Yeah no, it's time to go."

Amne pouts. "No, let's have fun!"

"Amne, you are so wasted that you seem genuinely happy, it's time to head home." Silas says sternly, pushing Amne towards the exit.

Amne tries to push against him "Don't be a party pooper, just let me go!"

Silas rolls his eyes as he guides Amne home, trying to avoid the stares she's getting.

~~~~~~~~~~

Silas falls back onto the couch next to Lua, exhaustion finally hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Lua glances over at him from their phone. "Is the psycho finally out?"

Silas groans. "Firstly, enough with that nickname, and secondly, yes, she is."

Lua hums. "It's surprising how giddy she is when she's drunk, I wonder if that moment of happiness is worth the hell of a hangover she's gonna have tomorrow."

Silas rubs the tiredness from his eyes. "Hopefully she's fine tomorrow.." He then sighs. "..Something happened at the bar."

Lua turns off their phone, turning to face Silas. "What do you mean?"

Silas breathes deeply. "I shouldn't tell you this.. but it's important."

Lua gives him a look. "Then spill it."

"It's about Silva.. the possession.. all of that." He says.

"There can't be more to what we already know, Silas." Lua mumbles.

Silas crosses his arms. "I thought so too, but.. she told me something.."

Lua hums, waiting for Silas to continue.

"Amne.. or, Karyme.." Silas starts. "Fuck, Lua.."

"She wasn't ever not possessed."

~~~~~~~~~~

[babylyctor]

can John actually control time or am i making things up? trying to reach a conclusion via tumblr posting

so as a theory this is 75% vibes. however there’s some things in the books that give me pause, and i wanted to put together all those bits and see if there’s something there. i’m not totally on board with this idea because it seems too complex to leave entirely to the last book, and i don’t know how it could fit with the rest of the narrative (or do i?) but in any case i keep thinking about it so here’s this way too long post. spoliers for everything

first, this fucking suspicious sentence that’s one of the first things John tells Harrow (Chapter 2, HtN)

"I would let you come back, bit by bit, until you felt entirely ready to wake up. I can’t. I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I’d done the smarter thing and mastered Time. I have to ask you to get ready soon, and so I am going to show you something I hope might … trigger your readiness.”

so this sounds like a really dull complaint on this immortal god’s part but also i don’t trust a single thing out of this man’s mouth, and this would be the exact kind of private joke he would make if he had actually mastered Time (capitalized) too. Also the context in which it’s said, talking about Harrow coming back from her coma, regaigning consciousness, awakening... you get it, oddly relevant theme wise.

then there’s the whole Soup Moment (Chapter 25, HtN), in which John seems to actually stop time maybe? i have doubts about this so lets see what our narrator tells us;

And God said, “Stop.”

The world slowed down. Augustine and Mercymorn stopped, arrested in the act of half-rising from their seats. Ianthe stopped, left arm paused, outflung, to shield her face. You stopped, sitting upright in your chair: your bones somehow rigid and still, and your flesh chilly and rigid around those bones. The shrapnel spray from the Saint of Duty did not stop, [...] But what remained of him stopped too, half man, half rupture—his prurient details hot and white, naked insides clothed with the sinus-drying burst of the power of God.

so here John freezes all the lyctors in place, they’re still conscious, or at least Harrow is, but they have their range of movement almost totally restricted. this is not like Mercy pinching Harrow’s dorsal nerve to paralyze her, this is a completely different feeling, maybe John’s thalergetic powers? it would make sense, all the lyctors are living bodies, they have thalergy and Johs is able to manipulate that, presumably. the bits of Gideon OG cascading down the table don’t stop but that might be John selectively using his powers, or it might be that that’s no longer living flesh.

so we’re saying this could just be John’s super special thalergy magic and nothing else. the first problem though is that technically he shouldn’t be able to use it against his lyctors without touching them, thanks to lyctoral invisibility. in fact when he explodes Mercy’s chest (rip in peace queen) he expressely reaches out and touches her to do so, because presumably he needs to make contact with a body in order to use magic against it, same as Mercy. so that’s a caveat, then there are these descriptions from the same Soup Moment;

You stared down the table at him: at the blank, remote faces of your two nominal teachers—at the frozen ivory stillness of Ianthe, her hair now whitish pink—at space outside the window, where the asteroids themselves seemed to hang in tranquilized arrest.

The Emperor of the Nine Houses stood. The spell, whatever it had been, dropped like a white sun setting.

These seem to imply certain ambiguity. John’s God and all that but i don’t think thalergetic magic should be able to affect asteroids, lifeless space rocks. of course it says they “seem” to hang in tranquilized arrest, not that they are really unmoving, but i think it’s a suggestive sentence all the same, and i’m suspicious of every word Muir writes. The second quote, specifically the highlighted part, is also a bit frustrating. It seems to imply that John isn’t exactly doing magic as we know it, but something else. If it was Harrow narrating we could go further with it, but since it’s Gideon we could simply attribute it to her lack of knowledge and familiarity with magic. However, two sentences after that we don’t have that problem;

The construct gamely clamberign our of the Saint of Duty dwindled to a powder of pink dust. The shard you had been driving up the cervical vertebrae to the base of the spine [...] simply disappeared: destroyed or removed, you could not tell.

This is still Gideon narrating but in this case she’s specifically telling us that Harrow doesn’t understand what John just did, it’s not magic Harrow is familiar with. There’s also the contrast between what we know is a normal process of destroying a construct - reducing it to dust -  vs this mysterious disappearance, that doesn’t really fit into what we know so far about the way thanergy/thalergy work.

so far, nothing conclusive, we know John is really powerful, but we don’t know exactly how, where his power comes from or what it can do. Then there’s the moment he unexplodes himself (Chapter 52, HtN);

White light.

It bleached the insides of your nose and the back of your throat. It hurt coming out your ears. It bled out your eyeballs. It wasn’t a flash of light, more … a suddenness; when it was gone—as though it hadn’t even existed, but had been a luminous hallucination—time stopped.

That light took colour from the room—everyone was a slow-motion cavalcade of greys, of eyes caught widening, of mouths parting in stone-shaded articulations of shock.

It happened in an instant. It happened over a myriad. A wet red construct knitted itself back together, [...]

again that white light that has been associated with thalergy magic and again all these references to time slowing down, stopping or just behaving in strange ways in general. again lots of ambiguity, this could be a thalergy based power - the ability to hold living bodies in stasis, and therefore make everyone feel like time has slowed down - or it could be that John is actually affecting time, maybe even reversing it (?) since he literally un-exploded himself, after Mercy put all her millenia of expertise into atomizing him and reducing him to almost nothing.

is that even explicable with regular thanergy/thalergy based magic? i’m not sure, a regular necro could never do that, a lyctor couldn’t do that. So if John isn’t just an overpowered lyctor what’s the difference exactly? i mean, how do his powers manifest differently from those of every other necromancer we know?

the other person we’ve seen using powerful thalergy magic is Silas. Whenever he siphoned, Gideon describes a similar vacuum sensation to the one that John’s magic also provokes, as well as white light;

As he faded, the pale Silas incandesced. He glowed with an irradiated shimmer, iridescent white, and the air began to taste of thunder. (Chapter 17, GtN)

Gideon felt an internal tug, like a blanket being pulled off in the cold. (Chapter 17, GtN)

Silas clambered to his knees, clasped his fingers together, and the feeling of suction popped the pressure in both of Gideon’s ears. (Chapter 34, GtN)

Silas is nowhere near as powerful as John but siphoning - thalergy based magic, condemned by God - still causes that suction effect and is marked by white light and lightning, just like John’s magic. However, there’s no mention of a time altering effect, no slowing down, no freezing in place, and seeing how both kinds of magic are similarly coded otherwise i find this difference suspicious.

To end this somewhere, two quotes, first, this thing Harrow tells Ortus when they both discuss what it must be like to be a lyctor (Chapter 5, HtN);

“Nigenad, what would be the tragedy in living for a myriad? Ten thousand years to learn everything there is to know [...] What is the tragedy of time?”

honestly to me that sounds like Muir making Harrow say things she will regret later. of course it could be about any of the numerous tragedies in Harrow life but still, gave me pause, specially because it kinda echoes John’s earlier sentiment, wishing he had mastered Time.

finally, a quote that might be totally meaningless and completely off base in this theory or it could round it up perfectly, i haven’t decided yet;

[...] ; yet you prayed all the while knowing Ianthe’s facility for tergiversation would have given the whole universe pause. (Chapter 36, HtN)

we know Ianthe is a girlboss and gaslighting is her thing. However, isn’t this sentence a bit too dramatic to describe Ianthe? doesn’t it sound kinda ominous to you? it definitely does to me, and although it might totally be my Ianthe bias wanting her to play an important part, who is Ianthe hanging out with lately? exactly John God “Jod” the Emperor.

in conclusion, i haven’t reached any conclusion. but i still think there’s something off with John’s powers beyond what we’ve been told, which isn’t much really, and i think there’s something going on with Time within the narrative (that’s another whole post though), and i think these two things are most probably related. but i can’t say i’m 100% sure of any of it. this was fun though. if you made it here thank you so much you’re the best <3

[daturanerium]

what they don't know won't hurt them; a list of things that harrow and gideon do not know about the world and each other at the end of harrow the ninth.

written from memory, additions and edits welcome. major spoilers for harrow the ninth under the cut.

a list of things that harrowhark does not know, probably:

perfect lyctorhood exists, and thus gideon's sacrifice was unnecessary (i have a theory that her and pal were working on cracking something similar at canaan house but it is just a theory)

gideon's father is jod, and gideon's mother is wake

the reason why she was able to enter the locked tomb was because gideon is a direct descendant of the being who made the blood ward (jod), and harrow had gideon's blood on her hands when she attempted to open it

both mercy and augustine were a) working with BOE; b) the cause of gideon's birth; and c) actively trying to kill jod

gideon was meant to be a necromantic bomb that was to be planted by wake, but wake died before she could press the big red button

g1deon's stories never matched up because half of the time he was actually pyrrha, his cavalier. this includes the time when 'he' (actually she) spoke to harrow after almost dying in the incinerator.

both g1deon and pyrrha were in a relationship with wake, gideon's mother. they thought that gideon was theirs.

the body is apparently up and walking (or at the very least has returned in some way)

ianthe chose jod over augustine

both mercy and augustine are dead

mercy actually exploded jod. it was pretty dope! but it was only a temporary explosion before jod resurrected himself. still pretty badass, tho

mercy was the one who stabbed harrow during number seven's attack. she admitted to it willingly, without hesitation.

the mithraeum is no more. it sank in the river.

harrow actually probably has no idea if gideon survived number seven's attack. she probably doesn't even know for sure if gideon has taken over--that was just an educated guess based on dulcie's information. (it's possible that harrow has some sort of connection to her body and can tell if it's still functioning or not, but i don't know for sure)

going way back a bit, gideon was always the one at canaan house that knew about the people. i'm thinking specifically about coronabeth; harrow probably has very little (if any) knowledge about corona's swordfighting skills and history.

in a similar vein to above, harrow also probably has no idea that members of the eighth house know about the ninth's 200 children fiasco. i don't remember gideon ever mentioning it to her. it's possible that the secret died with silas and colum, but we don't know for sure.

a list of things that gideon probably does not know (or has only vague, fuzzy memories of)

the true reasoning behind harrow's lobotomy (it was to protect and preserve gideon's spirit, and not just a way to escape lyctorhood)

harrow is, like, 100% in love with her. lol.

whether or not harrow is 'alive'; basically, whether or not her spirit still exists on their plane or if she has moved on through the river

whether or not harrow will be returning to her body, or if she even can

follow up to the above: gideon saw wake's spirit 'die' after her flesh vessel was fatally injured. gideon also knows that pyrrha permanently took over g1deon's body after he died in the battle against number seven. using these two facts, it is pretty safe for gideon and co to assume that harrow died after mercy's stabbing and was forcibly removed from her body into the river, leaving room for gideon to take over permanently. (we as readers know that this isn't entirely true, but gideon doesn't)

harrow created an entire series of alternate universes to hide gideon from herself, featuring: Everything Is The Same But Reverse Character Deaths, And Also Ortus Is There :) with special appearances from hits like: "what if you were the reverend daughter and i was your cavalier", also known as the Harrow Nova; the infamous royal marriage ball; and the jeanmarie and issac special: coffee shop meet-cute!

harrow was possessed by gideon's mother, wake, and they had a battle to the death that was only completed when the spirit of famous ninth cavalier mattias nonius was summoned by the spirit of abigail pent to protect the reverend daughter. yes, gideon, this really happened. stop looking at me like that.

harrow was able to subconsciously summon the spirits of abigail, magnus, jeanmarie, isaac, marta, ortus, and the real dulcie and protesilaus to her own river bubble, which she created without realizing it after going through with the lobotomy

it's unclear how much of gideon's narration throughout the book is actually memories she retained. she explains things in detail as they happen, but when we switch from second to first person she mentions that being 'pushed under' made everything blurry. she only vaguely recognizes harrow's bedroom, and she is barely able to remember mercy and augustine. interestingly, she doesn't seem to remember jod (or at least his appearance and voice) at all, although she does feel something when she notices the spot where harrow and jod had their tea parties. based on this, it's difficult to tell what she does know. it's possible that gideon has retained only vague, fuzzy memories of the events of htn before her resurfacing.

there's probably more i'm forgetting but i don't actually own a copy of htn so this is all from my own memory. additions are welcome!

i'm so interested to see how all of this comes into play in atn, especially harrow's realization about perfect lyctorhood and gideon not knowing if harrow is alive/around or not. good shit.

[psiionicwolf]

I recently read @/cristabel-oct's post on Gideon’s likely upcoming troubles with gender now that she's in Harrow's body. It got me thinking about how the different Houses probably view gender and presentation, which made me think about Silas and the Eighth's ideas on it.

I personally never viewed Silas through the lense of being a man or boy or any other masculinely directed words. He always had a kind of Harrow feel to me: masculine/feminine in title and uninformed outside perception only. Harrow's dress style has been stated by tazmuir to be a sort of androgynous-femme style. When I started thinking about Silas outside of the view of "that bigoted Eighth mayonnaise baby" I found it incredibly difficult to imagine him occupying the sort of space that Colum and Gideon occupy with what we would take as "observable traditional" masculinity.

Even Naberius' brand of dandy-esque masculinity (dandy being defined for this as a man who is relentlessly concerned about his physical appearance in a way that approaches a level of religious fervor (its actually very interesting)) doesn't mark with Silas' presentation. Even when trying to think about Magnus or even Augustine who both perform masculinity in an enviable (for me) way: a sort of Noble Masculinity. Silas is somewhere outside of that. He absolutely wears the requirements of his office being the Master Templar of the White Glass, in the same way that Harrow wears hers as Reverend Daughter of the Locked Tomb. But it just always felt different on him.

I'm also thinking about the silk that he's said to wear around his shoulders, silk is a notoriously expensive fabric, likely made all the more expensive by the fact that (assuming the silk worms that would make this are kept and bred on the Eighth) being a thanergetic planet animals and plants don't reproduce at the same rate as they would on a thalergetic planet.

If this is not the case then it's even more expensive, paying for (assuming the empire would operate off of slave labor to cut costs on an already very expensive import) the actual transport of said silk, the fueling costs for whatever merchant ship might deliver it, the wages of the cohort soldiers that are likely guarding this ship, bringing into some port (probably the Third who get first dibs) loading the dropship that delivers Eighth necessities, paying the soldier that pilots the ship to go to the Eighth and then back to port. It's a lot of money. This has implications for A. Eighth culture and styles of dress for the heirs and other similarly important people, B. Silas' presentation and preferred style of dress in the face of classic Eighth austerity, C. Silas' personality and his believed or perhaps otherwise (read religiously) enforced self-exception to classic Eighth austerity.

(Am I putting too much thought into this? Probably.)

It also leads me to thinking about his hair, which is very long especially for someone who's meant to be a monk. He could have it cut short like Colum’s, shave it entirely, or any number of styles that don't involve as much necessary care. We've been shown that Colum painstakingly combs out every inch of Silas' hair and then proceeds to put it back into his usual style. He likely oils it rather consistently, it takes a long time to wash and dry and just generally take care of. It's a lot of time (not really his but still) to devote to something that could be cut in a much more easily manageable style but he persists in wearing it this way.

Silas' gender vibes intrigue me so much that this was probably extremely incoherent, but if yall have anything to add or any extra thoughts about similar stuff I'd love to hear it.

TLDR: Silas' gender and presentation is very Harrow-esque but like different and this is extremely fascinating to me

[oveliagirlhaditright]

So, I got caught up on Boom Buffy again.

And, for the first time in ages, I’m now caught up on Boom Angel, now that I know that it continued with Angel & Spike.

At first, I sort of felt like Buffy had kind of lost the plot with this Silas arc--and maybe didn’t really know where it was going, or what it wanted to do--but I don’t know. I really got into it again with the last two volumes. I’m excited to see where it goes.

I do kind of feel like Angel’s lost the plot, though? Part of me wants to say what was the point of all the Bangel set up if we’re not doing it yet. And are doing Angel/Kate instead. But ehh. I guess we’re probably waiting to do Bangel until Buffy’s an adult in this AU. Still a little weird, though, to almost bait and switch.

And about Angel and Kate... I don’t know how to feel about it. Not so much Angel/Kate or anything about Kate herself. But the weird thing they decided to do, where Kate is apparently the reincarnation of Angel’s former vampire lover “Mara.” What?

I get that this an AU, of course. And there have to be changes, and they can’t just tell the same story over.

But I just... I don’t know.

I feel like I kind of get what they were going for with it? Kate was so anti-vampire in the original show. So how about in this AU, she was a vampire in a previous life, and is having vampire-like desires again, as a sense of irony. And maybe to fix some of the problems people had with her before. As her issues with Angel got old pretty fast in AtS. (I also know that Kate was originally supposed to be a love interest for Angel, something that the show dropped, that they’re clearly going for here).

But I just don’t know if it works? I feel like if they go into this too deeply, they’re going to change her character too much. And I know that sometimes you have to make characters do the opposite of what they would usually do to develop them (that’s what happened with Angel all the time in AtS), but I feel like there’s a line.

But back to Mara... I feel like she’s sort of a cross between Darla and OG!Drusilla? So far we’ve yet to see or hear anything about Darla, so I’m assuming for the moment that she doesn’t exist in this universe. Mara’s name is similar to hers--and is a blonde like she was--and was Angelus’ lover. So, points in that column (but instead of Darla or Mara changing him, he changed her. Because, again, this is an AU). And that’s sort of how the Drusilla ties come in. Because in this, while Dru exists and Angelus did change her... he didn’t drive her insane. So he must not have tortured her (as much, anyway?). And she’s not his biggest accomplishment/regret. He sees Mara as that. He thinks he destroyed her, because she was some sort of vampire hunter--and was trying to kill him--before he changed her, and he destroyed all that she was.

And there, I can kind of see some of the connections to Kate, I guess, and why they did this. But I still don’t think it works for me.

I also just... I don’t know if they planned this all along when they came up with the idea of Mara. I just don’t feel like they did, for some reason. But I could be dead wrong, of course.

Another issue I have, though, is I feel like this is getting into some Buffy/Angel(us) territory somewhat. And now I’m afraid that that story might not be as good as it could have been in this universe, if the Angel/Kate relationship hadn’t come first, but we’ll see, I guess.

I do feel like the Angel/Kate relationship is going to be destructive (again; even though Angel is trying to do right by Kate!Mara this time [which sure sounds like his attempted Darla redemption arc, when Darla came back as a human in AtS to me]), sadly--Spike seems to think so, anyway--whereas Buffy will once again be Angel’s guiding light. So maybe that’s how it will be different?

I’m also confused about Oz. I thought the preview made it sound like he was from an alternate universe--where all his friends were destroyed--and he’d come to this universe to warn them of that same danger coming after them, so the same thing wouldn’t happen to them... But so far, that hasn’t come up. Is he just waiting to tell them. Now that we’ve seen a second Angel and Spike from another universe, will Oz finally spill the beans. Or is there going to be another Oz that shows up, who is the Oz from the preview, where that happens?

I also... don’t really like all this weird stuff going on with Fred. With all the different voices and stuff in her head, and all her different powers (also, the part where she was tricked into letting a demon possess her to save her friends, and then became the lead of Wolfram & Hart). I know this is an AU, and they have to make it somewhat different, but I sort of wish they would have just had it be Illyria who possesses her again. -shrugs-

...Man, this is a lot of rambling and ranting about the recent Angel & Spike comics. And it probably sounds like I hate them. I swear I don’t. There’s definitely some good there. I guess I’m just more confused than anything. And curious about where they’re going with it all, and really praying they have a solid direction for it all... hopefully they will.

Edit: And am I the only one who finds it really weird that we don’t see Angel’s reaction to anything that happened after he got possessed by the Hellmother in the Hellmouth crossover and had to fight Buffy at all?

Edit 2: Even though I was the one who said I wanted Oz on Team Angel (but that was more in the OG story), I kind of don’t know why they put him there? But if they can come up with some interesting stories, I’m all for it. That one preview idea, sounds solid. But, like, there are really no guys in the Scoobies right now, so you’d think that maybe he would have gone to Sunnydale. But nope. Oh well...

Speaking of, it was funny when Oz mentioned that he was from Sunnydale and Angel just frowned and said, “That town is Hell.”

See? I swear I’m not totally ragging on the Angel & Spike comics!

I also feel like Spike is kind of the shining beacon in these comics, as of late! He’s just so funny! As always. Haha.

[tazmuir]

Hello! I loved Gideon the Ninth so much!! and would like to draw fan art, would you mind sharing any helpful summaries of what each character looks like? or must us fans hunt through the book for every offhand line of description? (not that I'm not planning on rereading it anyway)

I have let myself drift back onto Tumblr after two weeks, am deeply affrighted and excited at the idea that anyone has drawn my kids (I had an AMA on Reddit and as said there, my editor every so often hollered into my inbox about amazing shit people were doing, but I was too busy complaining back to him that my face had gone numb and that I no longer slept, but instead the darkness of the grave claimed me for four to five hours each night). Thank you so much to anyone who has already done this. Many people on my team have yelled and yelled.

Back early on in the piece I made a document for him about what characters looked like in terms of basic ideas/outlines for copyediting, covers and sense purposes, and I’ve dug out that document and slapped it up here for general delectation. As a note: I imagine specific things when it comes to my characters (I am a Kiwi: I write Kiwis In Space as a default) but as I have nothing but joy in my heart for how anyone would want to draw these characters, feel free to glance over this, then toss it out the window. It would bring tears of beauty to my eyes if anyone was like “Yes, but when I was reading I imagined Naberius Tern as a huge monitor lizard,” because absolutely yes, Naberius Tern was just a huge monitor lizard, godspeed.

I had only described below the specific cavalier-necromancer pairs, so that’s what you’ll find below, sorry if anyone wanted Teacher.

SECOND HOUSE

The only ones who seemed even vaguely compos mentis were the Second House: as it turned out, they had been the ones to call Teacher to the access hatch, and now they sat ramrod-straight and resplendent in their Second-styled Cohort uniforms, all scarlet and white. They both affected the same tightly-braided hairstyle and the same amount of extremely gilt braid, and also the same serious-business expression, and they could be told apart by one having a rapier and one quite a lot of pips at her collar.

Captain Judith Deuteros and Lieutenant Marta Dyas are alike in posture, bearing and extremely crisp military uniform (think a cross between US Navy whites and the Regency navy). Unlike every single other necromancer on the cast, Judith never wears necromancer robes, but is dressed in the exact same way as Marta. Judith is somewhat less completely scrawny than other necromancers on the cast, though she should be less built than Marta is; Judith is imposing, solemn-faced and reflective, Marta is more keen-eyed and restless. I imagined both as Tongan.

THIRD HOUSE

[Coronabeth] was tall and regal, with some radiant, butterfly quality – her shirt was haphazardly tucked into her trousers, which were haphazardly tucked into her boots, but she was all topaz and shine and lustre. All necromancers affected robes in the same way cavaliers affected swords, but she hadn’t tucked her arms into hers, and it was a gauzy, gold-shot, transparent thing floating out around her like wings. There were about five rings on each hand and her earrings would’ve put chandeliers to shame, but she had an air of wild and innocent overdecoration, of having put on the prettiest things in her jewellery box and then forgetting to take them off. Her buttery hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and she kept tangling a curl of it in one finger and artlessly letting it go.

The second twin was like someone had taken the first to pieces and put her back again without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but wore it like a very beautiful shroud on a mummy. The cavalier had lots of hair, an aquiline face, and a self-satisfied little jacket.

Coronabeth is massive, taller even than Palamedes, larger-than-life – statuesque, very bright gold hair, golden/bright skin, violet eyes. Ianthe is the same height but gangly and washed out. Skin colour defined heavily in Corona’s case as golden/olive-hued brown/tanned; Ianthe similar, but less radiant/more pallid whatever the case. Both have long hair: Corona’s should be big and bouncy, Ianthe’s flat/sleek.Naberius is shorter than both, brown-haired (brown can be light, medium or dark, it’s not defined) and blue-brown hazel eyes. Also has lots of hair, cut short, but sense of pompadour/waves. I imagined all three as Pakeha/white.FOURTH HOUSEBoth Isaac and Jeannemary are around fourteen and have pretty much the same body shape still: Jeannemary is semi-muscular and has lots of corners, Isaac is skinnier. Both are natural brunettes, though Isaac has bleached hair (orange, fauxhawk) and Jeannemary is described as having curly hair. Both have multiple ear piercings and eyeliner and the visual is somewhat Glassons storecard punk. Both have dark brown eyes. Jeannemary has a somewhat dusty, fierce, monochromatic appearance (brown hair, brown skin), and I imagine her as Māori. Isaac I imagined as NZ Chinese.FIFTH HOUSEMagnus Quinn is a man in his middling to late thirties, with short, curly hair: he is a frank-faced, nice-looking guy of medium build with a face inclined to wholesome smiles. His outfits should be absolutely exceptionally well-tailored and not very flashy. Imagined him as Samoan. His wife Abigail is perpetually neat, wears round spectacles and has long, glossy dark brown hair – she is the least described of a cast not very specifically described. Much like Magnus, she should always be beautifully and tastefully dressed, though in her case she would affect trousers as well as a robe. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.

SIXTH HOUSECrouching in front of the hatch was a rangy, underfed young man: he was wrapped in a grey cloak and the light glinted on the spectacles slipping down his nose. Standing next to him holding a big wedge of broken sculpture and the flashlight was a tall, equally grey-wrappered figure with a scabbard outlined at her hip. She had hair of an indeterminate darkness, cut blunt at her chin.Up close, he was gaunt and ordinary-looking, except for the eyes. His spectacles were set with lenses so thick they could make spaceflight grade, and through these his eyes were a perfectly lambent grey: unflecked, unmurked, even and clear. He had the eyes of a very beautiful person, and the head of someone with resting bitch face.

Palamedes is seriously underfed with a bony, thin face and glasses: medium brown hair cut short and with no particular thought for aesthetics, dresses just in greys, eyes particularly lovely clear grey. Camilla has very dark cold-brown hair – chin-length, straight and with a fringe – dark eyes. She’s compact and has lots of lean muscle, and I imagine her of being Middle Eastern extraction, though due to Sixth House parameters both will be fairly mixed. They’re actually second cousins, so there ought to be a faint resemblance.

SEVENTH HOUSE[Dulcinea] was a slender young thing whose mouth was a brilliant red with blood: her dress was a frivolous concoction of seafoam green frills, and the blood on it seemed more somber against such a backdrop. Her skin seemed transparent – horribly transparent, with the veins at her hands and the sides of her temples a visible cluster of mauve branches and stems. Her eyes fluttered open: they were huge and blue, with velvety brown lashes.

Dulcinea is a girlish woman who looks extremely fragile and sickly, like a neurasthenic Victorian maiden. Eyes should be extremely blue. Hair is light brown in long curls; skin is pale. Pretty in a frivolous, invalid way. Gives the impression of being slight. Outfits should be gauzy and nightgownish. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.

The man who’d put the sword to her neck was uncomfortably buff. He had upsetting biceps. He looked like a collection of lemons in a sack. He didn’t look healthy; he was a dour, bulky young person, whose skin had something of the strange, translucent tinge that the girl’s had. He was waxen-looking in the sunlight […] He was dressed richly, but with clothes that looked as though they’d seen practical wear: a long cape of greyish-green, and a belted kilt and boots. There was a long, shining length of etched chain rolled up and over his arm, and a big one-handed sword hung at his hip.

Protesilaus is massive, buff, and also sort of sickly and indistinct-looking in his colouring – he is described as being made up mainly of muddy, ashen browns. Think Greek warrior, but with no vibrant colouring. Biggest on cast, even bigger than Colum Ash. Imagined him as mixed Pasifika.

EIGHTH HOUSEIt was a pair who were both boys – well – a boy and a man; one was a wan, knife-faced kid dressed in antiseptic whites and useless chainmail you could cut with a fork, it was so delicate. [Silas] was draped in it even down to a kilt, which was strange: necromancers didn’t normally wear that kind of armour, and he was definitely the necromancer. He had necromancer build. […] He gave the impression of being absolutely no fun at all. He was prim and ascetic-looking, and his companion – who was older, a fair bit older than Gideon herself – had the air of the perpetually disgruntled. He was rather more robust, nuggety, and dressed in chippy bleached leathers that looked as though they’d seen genuine use. One finger on his left hand was just a gross-looking stump, which she admired.

Silas is in his teens, has shoulder-length white hair in a braid and dark eyes. He has extremely pale skin, and coupled with the white robes and silver chainmail (all of which somewhat swamp him – he’s sort of slender and purse-mouthed) gives the impression of being arrestingly white all over. Pointy chin, oval face, disapproving expression, a little insubstantial. Colum, his older, larger nephew is much taller, broader and in his early thirties. He has medium brown hair in a short back’n’sides crop, dark eyes, and appears jaundiced in skin tone – he’s very weatherbeaten and tan-skinned, scarred, and though he’s dressed in the same colours he tends to contrast heavily with them and his leather armour is also beaten-up. He looks tatty and ill-used, expression is apathetic or forbidding; Silas always looks perfectly clean, crisp and white. Facially there should be a similarity. They’re both Pakeha, with Silas being significantly the palest person on-cast.

NINTH HOUSEThe light fell on [Harrow’s] painted grey face and black-daubed chin, and her short-cropped, dead-crow-coloured hair. […] She had such a peculiarly pointed little face, high-browed and tippy everywhere, and a slanted and vicious mouth.

Harrow is a scrawny teenage girl with black hair cut short (as befits someone in a monastery) and truly black eyes: she never appears except in black and white skull facepaint. She has a pointed, rather triangular face, not very long, a triangular heart rather than a triangular diamond or oval. She wears black robes and long-sleeved, long-trousered clothes – all black – with no skin showing: the main decoration on this is bones. She wears a corset of rib bones and could have any other bone decoration, which has been written of in the book as bone bangles and multiple bone stud piercings in the ears. She’s more femme-androgynous than outright butch; in Book 1 she’s a bit birdlike and free of specific masc or femme gender markers in terms of outfit or build. I imagined her as being mixed Māori.Gideon is true butch: tall of height – at least, taller than Harrow – extremely, shreddedly fit with the muscular arms of a swordswoman or boxer. She should have a strong-jawed, boyishly pretty face with a big douchebag grin. Cropped hair same as Harrow, except that hers as an oblate is more of an in-your-face mop (could be partly-shaved except that implies more care than Gideon possesses) and is intensely, vividly red.  I envision her as mixed Māori, darker-skinned than Harrow.  She also wears skull facepaint, though hers tends to be much less careful and baroque than Harrow’s. She often affects a pair of black aviator sunglasses. She wears the same black cloak as Harrow, without any decoration, and a plain black shirt and trousers underneath. Her eyes are an extremely vivid amber with more of a yellow/golden tint than a russet one.  

[rjhpandapaws]

Will be the Best Years of My Life

Ch 2: A Friend of his Own

Daniel watched the others a lot. He tagged along with Simon because he didn’t like to be alone, but none of Simon’s friends were his. He knew they were at least okay with him because North hadn’t been too mean to him yet. Markus was the first of them to try and get to know Daniel outside of Simon and it had been strange. He and Simon were identical twins, more people seemed to focus on how much they were alike. Markus had been the first one to try and pinpoint the differences. Daniel hadn’t been sure if he had liked it. If he wasn’t at least a little bit like Simon, wouldn’t the group want to be rid of him? That had been when Daniel had realized he didn’t have any of his own friends. He was sort of liked by Simon’s friends, but he had no one to turn to on the days he didn’t want to be Simon’s shadow. On those days he was on his own because no one else understood what it was like to be a twin except the one person he didn’t want to see. It was lonely, he decided, to be an exact copy of someone else. To have to share everything either because people couldn’t be bothered to tell you apart or because outside of your twin you didn’t have anyone else who understood.

So Daniel watched them. He wanted to know what it was that made Simon so likeable. He also watched the rest of the group to see what it was like not to have someone you were expected to be just like. That was how he thought his summer was going to go, just watching, trying to learn something. Then, another family moved into the house down by the park and there was another set of twins in the neighborhood. Connor and Silas were strange. They were identical twins, just like he and Simon, but that seemed to be where their similarities stopped. Connor was quiet and didn’t seem to do anything without thinking about it at least a little. Silas was loud and didn’t seem to think about anything he did. He was reckless. Daniel loved it. Silas didn’t try to mirror Connor at all. They were easy to tell apart because Silas always had some kind of scrape or bruise from whatever thing he had tried. So Daniel took to watching him instead and Silas didn’t seem to mind the audience. For all of his loud and reckless, Silas also seemed good at understanding what Daniel was feeling. Apparently he got compared to Connor a lot because his twin was quieter and better behaved. That didn’t change it seemed even if you behaved differently than your twin. People always seemed to want you to be the same person. They both hated it.

It was the first time Daniel had something of his own. A friend that was just his to have. Sure, North seemed to like him too, but Daniel didn’t have to share him with Simon because Simon had Cole. They spent all of the summer together, and Daniel was pretty upset when Silas was put into the other fourth grade class. He finally had his own friend and the school stole him. What if he made other friends? Or decided he didn’t like him anymore, what was Daniel supposed to do then? He didn’t have to worry for long though. Before the year was even half over Silas had caused enough trouble in his own class to warrant getting moved into Daniel’s. He even got to take Simon’s old seat right next to him. There was nothing to worry about anymore now that Silas was with him again. They were attached at the hip, whatever that meant. It sounded like it would be a hassle, but if it was with Silas he didn’t think he would mind it too much. Silas had been thinking about it a lot too it seemed. He brought it up when they were on the swings recovering from a particularly rough game of tag. They were holding hands like they always did to keep their swings together and all Silas had to do to get his attention was squeeze his hand a little.

“Do you think we could do it?” Silas asked with that same lilt to his voice that always lead to trouble, “Be attached at the hip?” “Maybe.” He responded as he thought about it. Being that close to Silas didn’t seem like a bad idea. “I don’t think we would be able to do it forever though.” He explained, “We could try tying our legs together. Like they do for the three leg race on the last day of school.” Silas took a moment to think about it before he nodded, “That could work. What should we use to tie up our legs?” Daniel moved to stop his swing and Silas mimicked him so he wouldn’t fall, “Do you think your Dad would give us something to use if we asked?” Silas shrugged, “Maybe.” He let go of Daniel’s hand and stretched, “We could always ask him when he gets back since you’re staying the night.” So was everyone else, but Daniel didn’t want to focus on that. “Alright.” he pressed, “How long do you want to stay attached for?” That got him another shrug from Silas, “Until it gets annoying I guess.” It was probably the most thought out of Silas’s plans. That wasn’t saying a whole lot, but it meant that they probably wouldn’t be getting into as much trouble as usual.

Daniel had expected being attached to Silas to be a little more difficult and annoying than it was. Silas was right handed so they could both do stuff without too many problems. The stairs were a bit of an obstacle, but trying to play videogames is where they wound up drawing the line. They both played games cross-legged with the controller in their lap, and that wasn’t something they could do like this, and they had tried for a while. Silas looked down at the patterned tie and sighed, “What do you think?” He asked as he looked back up at Daniel, “Time to be done for real this time?” Daniel didn’t really want it to be over, but it would probably only get more annoying when they tried to sleep since Silas couldn’t stay still, “Yeah.” He replied as he reached down to untie the knot, “It was a lot of fun though.” They got back to their game once they were untied. As much as he had liked being attached to Silas, he liked this a little better. They could both do the things they wanted to without any awkward maneuvering. More importantly they could hold hands again. That was always what reassured Daniel the most, knowing that his friend was still there. He hoped that never changed. He didn’t know what he would do without Silas.

[ultrahpfan5blog]

Watching Snyderverse Part 3 - Zack Snyder’s Justice League

After BvS, I was honestly not particularly looking forward to Justice League. For me, it was obvious that Snyder’s versions of these characters and his overall doom and gloom approach was not something I was particularly enjoying despite some promising elements in both MoS and BvS. Then we saw exactly how JL production went down. Despite the happy face they tried to paint, the fact that there was going to be a 2 hour mandate, the fact that Whedon basically reshot a bunch of Snyder’s film with the film being a mishmash of two directors who couldn’t be any more different in their sensibilities, and that that the actors, specifically Ben Affleck, looked like they couldn’t wait to be done with this movie and this role, made it obvious that the movie wasn’t going to turn out well. So my expectations were rock bottom for the theatrical cut. As it happens, that was a good thing. The theatrical cut of JL is a thoroughly unremarkable movie. I don’t abhor it but it is so obviously a patchwork job and a studio mandated film that there is no passion or vision in the movie at all. I mean, I didn’t like BvS much at all, but there was a vision there. Theatrical cut of JL seemed like a film that felt like WB just felt they had to put out there and then move on. And then years later, we get Zack Snyder’s full version of Justice League. I watched it in one sitting, which was maybe a mistake because it is heavy viewing for 4 hours. Without a doubt it is a better movie than the theatrical cut. Its a little tough to judge this film because this is no way a movie that would have been released theatrically. But its also impossible to judge on what it may have been if it was edited down to a 3 hour length. So best to just judge it on its own merits.

Firstly, the positives. This is definitely a more coherent and clear movie. The plot is not rushed and every sequence, be it a character moment or an action sequence, is fully realized without any weird edits. The film does have some more humor than the previous two Snyder films. Mainly courtesy of Ezra Miller and Jeremy Irons. And the humor is not awkward like in the theatrical cut. Ezra Miller in particular benefits from that because some of his cringey lines from the theatrical edition are cut. The special effects are largely impressive and definitely an improvement over the theatrical edition. On a character level, definitely Cyborg gets the most benefit out of all the characters. As we get a full and thorough backstory for him. We get insight into his relationship with both his parents. Steppenwolf also gets significantly more screen time and his motivations are definitely more clearly defined in the movie than in the theatrical. Miller and Momoa also get some more scenes to flesh out their individual characters. What does surprise me is that the film contains a lot of scenes which are essentially just alternate versions of scenes from the theatrical cut. The film isn’t radically different from the theatrical version, but the scenes included in this version feel a little more real. Like a scene with the entire League discussing Superman’s return in the theatrical cut made it obvious that the actors weren’t in the same room together, whereas the original scene in this movie has them clearly in the same physical space. The Superman scenes are also infinitely better without the CGI upper lip. Thankfully, Snyder doesn’t do what he did with the previous two movies and gives some breathing room between action sequences. Probably a bit too much time, but that’s better than no time at all. the tunnel action sequence and the climax set piece is definitely pretty cool. Flash actually having an active role in the climax was a big improvement. My favorite action sequence is still the Superman vs the League because it shows just how powerful Superman can be. Also, the color palette is a lot more consistent and better than the weird bright and red color palette that is used in the theatrical cut.

When it comes down to the performances from the cast, nobody really stands out. They are all fine, but unlike in BvS, where Affleck stood out. Everybody here is just motoring along. In the theatrical cut, Affleck looked completely checked out. I was hoping the original cut would beef up his performance. While it is slightly better, he’s still just a bit too restrained in the role and doesn’t leave the type of impression he left in BvS. Everyone is at their most dour self. Gal Gadot’s WW is more serious and therefore does not get to show her more radiant side in Patty Jenkins’ movies, Momoa is also similarly more dour and serious and not quite as fun as he was in Aquaman. Ray Fisher is decent but its a role that requires him to be very robotic for large chunks of the film. So its a little difficult to assess his performance. Cavill is in far too little of the movie to give much of a performance. He’s perfectly fine in the handful of scenes he has. Miller is probably the best of the lot, even though he’s still more Peter Parker than Barry Allen. Some of the supporting cast actually fare a little better. Irons is a delight whenever he’s on screen and Affleck is also at his best when they have scenes together. That dynamic works. Joe Morton is surprisingly affecting as Silas Stone, as is Billy Crudup in his brief scenes as Henry Allen. Its always nice to see more of Willem Dafoe, Diane Lane, Connie Nielsen, and JK Simmons. Simmons as Gordon was great casting and its a pity we won’t get to see more of him in that role. Amber Heard for some perplexing reason has a British accent in this film as Mera. Given Dafoe and Momoa both speak in their normal voices, that must have been a choice. It did feel a bit funny. Jared Leto and Jesse Eisenberg are back as Joker and Lex and neither of them particularly improve on their performances. I mean, they have a scene each so its no harm done, but the Joker scene particularly drags on for too long. Amy Adams has a small role and she does manage to make to get some emotion out of a handful of scenes.

The film has more than its fair share of issues. Firstly, it is just way, way too long. The pacing is glacially slow at times. And I mean that in the most literal manner. There is so much slow mo in this movie, its crazy. I swear, if you removed the slow motion, you might lose 20 minutes of the run time. Snyder is clearly in desperate need of an editor here. The film has the exact opposite problem of the theatrical cut. Whereas in the theatrical cut, it always felt that every scene was just edited a little too short, in this movie there are scenes that are going on for far too long. There are some very strange edits. Like an entire scene where women in the village are singing hyms when Arthur leaves and smelling his clothes. There is a meet cute between Iris and Barry which is completely unnecessary and is frankly slightly creepy where Barry is caressing her face while she is in the process of being thrown out of her car. Some music choices in these scenes are also a little bizarre. Everything involving the Martian Manhunter is not necessary. I mean, his involvement in a crucial Martha and Lois scene actually takes away from the emotion of that moment. And then he has a very tacked on final scene which is kind of awkward. The Knightmare scene also drags for a bit too long, especially given they are supposed to be in danger while being out in the open. We still have no more clarity as to why Bruce is having these visions. The slow pace does make things boring at times as well. While I am glad that Cyborg’s backstory gets beefed up, there is a bit too much of Cyborg being angry at his father. After a while, it gets monotonous. The film takes too long to get the team together and the first JL action sequence doesn’t happen until over 2 hours into the movie. The film should have spent a bit more time with the team interacting with one another. That’s what made the Avengers movies work and some of the best parts of this movie are also the team together. There are some Snyder tone deaf moments as per usual. While WW’s entry action sequence is very cool, I do find it funny that they have her comforting a girl and the girl wanting to be just like her after she basically obliterates the terrorist into dust. Given her abilities shown in that sequence, there is no reason she wouldn’t have been able to disable him. But instead she just obliterates him. Its all very Snyder. I do also have to wonder about that sequence. I still don’t get exactly how terrorists feel that blowing up a few city blocks will bring down the modern age. I thought this was a weird Whedon thing but it turns out to be a weird Snyder thing. Also, for all the hype about the black suit Superman, its really nothing more than an aesthetic choice for no rhyme or reason. I honestly prefer the Blue and Red if the black suit doesn’t have a point, like the restorative factor from the comics. Also, for all the blame people put on Whedon about the skimpy outfits on Amazons and the weird backside shots of WW, turns out they were all Snyder. There are a few select things that the Whedon cut did slightly better. For example, there is no real major debate or conflict within the team other than minor objections from Arthur over the implications of using the mother box to bring back Superman. Also, a sequence in the theatrical cut where Bruce admits that Clark was more human that he was, is a better version of a similar scene in this movie. Also, while not perfectly executed, the theatrical cut did acknowledge that Bruce was a human fighting amongst superpowered individuals. Also, most importantly, while Steppenwolf is an improvement over the theatrical cut, this is still a movie where the plot involves a villain trying to find three boxes. Steppenwolf is still pretty boring and the main story is not interesting at all. The Darkseid angle of this story is also overhyped since he’s barely in the film. 

In the end, it feels that there is a pretty decent 3 hour movie hidden in an ok but dragged out 4 hour film. I’m glad the Snyder fans got to see it. I have had my issues with Snyder’s vision. While I feel he has grand ambitions and a sense of scale and scope, he hasn’t really got the sense of story and script to really make it work to a degree where the audience at large would appreciate it. I have seen his old storyboards and read his recent interviews about what he was going to do. It sounds very grand and very cool, but with a big potential of being a gigantic mess. Who knows what will happen in the future but at least it right now seems that they are moving on from Snyder’s vision. For this film, I am right now landing at about a 6/10, which is the highest mark out of all the Snyder DC movies. I’ve only watched it once and watching it again is a big endeavor so I won’t do it anytime soon, but maybe revisiting it will make me either like it more or less.

[jonathananubian]

Another Chance 1 [Star Wars Fanfic]

Summary: Jaster is left to die by his second in command, Montross, and is facing down his own demise when someone intervenes. Tor dies and Jaster lives. Who is this mysterious redheaded Jetii who speaks his language? And how can Jaster convince him to stay? AN: Did some fiddling around with their ages and the timeline. This fic takes place in 52BBY, 30 years before the Clone Wars. Jaster- 35, Obi- 32, Jango- 14 Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Rare Pairings, Mandalorian Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jaster lives, Force-Sensitive Jango Fett. Characters: Jaster Mereel, Obi-wan Kenobi, Jango Fett Pairing: Jaster/Obi-wan Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26904037/chapters/65651923

Jaster glares at one of his most hated enemies, fallen comrades on the ground around them. “This is your fault, Montross. We should be off this mudhole by now. You’re out of my crew… if we survive.” Tor isn’t even wearing a helmet as he lets out a vicious laugh and raises his left gauntlet.

“If you survive- not likely!” A wrist rocket zips toward the ground, separating him from Montross who had been at his back. The man leaps into the air with his jetpack as Jaster is knocked onto his hands and knees from the explosion. “You stole the Mandalorians from me and then you left me to die on Concord Dawn! I won’t let you escape this time!” The madman screamed at him, powering up the large gun and shooting the ground around Jaster to separate he and Montross further.

“Montross! Airlift, now!” He barks in command, holding out his arm.

“Sorry Jaster, but I’m through taking your orders. But I’ll take good care of the troops.” The man says from the safety of the air. Vizla and the Kordans don’t even aim at him, their focus on Jaster.

“Montross!” He yells as his once trusted second turns away and flies off.

That bastard! That fucking backstabbing dar’manda coward!

Tor laughs and swings the guns around, grinning with manic glee as he powers the guns up again for another round. Jaster lets off a few shots, even as he’s desperately looking for a means to hide or escape. But no such luck.

Blue bolts of searing plasma come shooting at him and he closes his eyes, knowing that he was about to leave his son alone in the world. Jango… he hoped his boy was ready for the responsibility of leadership. He had done all he could to raise the boy well but he still had so much anger inside him. He would need to temper his recklessness if he was going to fight Montross for the right to lead, and he would need a cool head if he was going to bring Jaster’s killer to justice.

An unfamiliar sound came through his helmet and he heard Tor cursing vehemently. Feeling no pain he opened his eyes to a sight he never in a million years thought he’d see; a Jetii was deflecting the bolts back at Vizla’s tank. Jaster stared in slack-jawed awe as the Jetii blurred into motion, his white tunics covered in what might have been armor. “Mand’alor, how are you?” For a moment Jaster thought his helmet was malfunctioning. Did the Jetii just speak Mando’a at him? “Mand’alor? Sitrep!” He demanded, again in Mando’a. Jaster shook himself out of his stupor.

The Jetii looking back at him was a redhead, maybe half a foot taller than Jaster, with a well trimmed beard and eyes the color of blue skies. He moved with the grace of a dancer but had the same aura of preparedness any lifelong warrior would have.

“Fine. Thanks to you.” The Kordans were panicking over the smoking and devastated tank, fleeing, as Tor leapt down the rocks toward them, palming a weapon Jaster immediately recognized. “Look out!” The Jetii turned and met the darksaber with his own blade.

“Hello there, I was wondering if you’d come down here to fight with honor.” Jaster blinked, his mouth falling open once again. It was a round about way of calling Vizla a dar’manda coward but the intent was there. Tor snarled and swung his blade with the ease of long practice. But he wasn’t up against some unskilled mando’ad, no.

He was up against a Jetii.

The redhead absolutely wiped the floor with Vizla, taunting him in that slightly too polished Mando’a as he deflected each strike. It was like watching a man play fighting with a child just learning to fight. No matter how much power Vizla put into his strikes it was as if the Jetii was just too fast, his defenses too strong.

“I hope you’ve made your peace with this life, leader of Kyr’tsad. For I bring you your death.” With one swift strike Tor’s head was separated from his body. The head landed with a meaty squelch while the body fell to the ground with a thump. Letting out a long, tired, sigh, the Jetii reached down and picked up the Dha’kad’au, staring at it for a moment before holding it out to Jaster reverently.

The first thought on Jaster’s mind was that this man was Mandokarla. The second was that there was no way in hell he was taking the Dha’kad’au from his hand. When he didn’t move the Jetii cleared his throat and lifted the Dha’kad’au higher. “I believe this belongs to you, Mand’alor?” Jaster, finally snapping out of it, found his own voice.

“No, Jetii, it belongs to whoever has won it in a duel. You won against Vizla, it is yours until you lose it to someone else.” The man’s eyes widened and he shook his head, frowning.

“I am not worthy of this blade. It cries out for a worthy Mando’ad to wield it, and I am no Mando’ad.” Jaster reached forward to curl his hand over the Jetii’s, pushing the man’s hand back toward his chest and refusing the blade.

“Could have fooled me.” The redhead flushed slightly, his pale skin reddening in a way that Jaster found quite fetching. Sobering himself he pushed away the niggling feeling of attraction to the back of his mind, falling into his role as Mand’alor as easily as breathing. “Why save me? And how did you even get here?”

The man looked down at Jaster’s hand, still curled around his own, before looking back up into his visor. “You are the only hope for the future of your people. I don’t know what you understand of the jetiise but the force may sometimes give us visions of the future.” Jaster sucked in a breath. Seers. Of course the jetiise had Seers among them. Anyone with a strong connection to the Manda had a chance to experience visions of the future. If the Jetiise were tapping into something similar then it made sense they’d be able to see the future as well. “In my vision I saw you die, betrayed, leaving your son as the next Mand’alor. But when your son is older the Haat’ade are tricked, pulled into a trap by the Kyr’tsad, and slaughtered by the jetiise.” Jaster felt a shudder of dread run through him.

“Hell.” He muttered. The Jetii gave him a sad look, eyes filled with pain and grief.

“Without the Haat’ade around Kyr’tsad will run rampant as the New Mandalorians make further alliances with the Republic…” The man stopped and let out a breath, as if it pained him to speak of this. Jaster couldn’t help himself, he ran a thump gently over the man’s wrist, encouraging him and supporting him in the moment.

He really shouldn’t, he should be more wary of a Jetii, but the redhead’s liquid eyes are too sincere and the spirit of Manda in his soul is signing.

“The New Mandalorians will kill the spirit of Manda, burn your old texts and disband the clans. They will become totalitarian in their zeal to defang Mandalore in the eyes of the Republic.” His voice was thick with emotion and Jaster was transfixed. The future he spoke of was like something out of Jaster’s nightmares.

“So you came here to save me in order to preserve the Mando’ade’s way of life? Why?” The man bit his bottom lip and looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

“The same reason I speak Mando’a, practice Dral’gaan, and eat spicy tiingilar- I love Mandalore.” The words were nearly a whisper at the end but Jaster’s helmet picked them out of the air and drove them straight into his mind. His eyes trailed down to his hand, which was still covering the redhead’s as well as the Dha’kad’au, and swallowed hard. He had to remind himself that this man was a Jetii.

“I notice you’re also wearing-” He never got to finish his sentence as his son came barreling into his side, Silas not far behind.

“Buir!” Jaster’s hand broke contact with the Jetii’s and the singing in his soul dimmed, although he noted it was still there. His son brought up a blaster, aimed at the Jetii, and Jaster quickly pushed his son’s arm down, so he was aiming at the ground.

“Jan’ika, don’t go aiming weapons at allies, I taught you better than that!” His son’s helmet tilted up to look at him and Jaster could read incredulity in every line of his body. As his son turned to look over at the Jetii he froze.

“Is that?” Shit, he’d spotted Vizla’s corpse.

“It was.” No use beating around the bush.

Jango stood there, frozen, before Jaster felt the back of his neck tingle with a sense of danger. All around them loose rocks rose from the ground as Jango’s breathing became labored. He swung his blaster toward the body and shot it full of holes, half garbled curses spewing from his lips. Jaster grabbed his son’s shoulders and pulled the boy to him, grounding him. He’d seen Jango lose it like this a few times and he knew that as soon as it was over his son would be exhausted.

The Jetii suddenly moved forward and placed a hand on his son’s chest plate. Before Jaster could ask what the kriff he thought he was doing Jango suddenly sagged and the rocks dropped back to the ground. Jango sucked in heavy gulps of air, making his helmet emit more garbled vocals. Carefully, slowly, the Jetii pulled Jango’s helmet off, his expression soft and body language open. “That’s it, take deep breaths. Don’t try to push it back down, let it flow through you and out again.” Beneath his gentle hands Jango’s trembling slowly came to a stop and, like Jaster had surmised, he finally went limp from exhaustion.

“What was that, Jetii?” He asked as the man finally released his son and took a step back. Absently Jaster noticed the Dha’kad’au hooked onto the redhead's belt and wholeheartedly approved.

“Your son is force sensitive but has been subconsciously repressing it.” The redhead frowned. “That’s very dangerous, it could do irreparable damage to his psyche.” Jaster frowned in concern. How had none of the force sensitive verde noticed? “He’s very adept at shields and hiding. If I hadn’t seen him lose control like that I never would have guessed.” There was a hint of self recrimination, as if he should have known about Jango’s ability to channel the Manda.

“What are you going to do now, Jetii?” The man seemed to startle slightly and shook his head, eyes going distant. “Are you going to return to your temple?” If the man was stranded Jaster would offer to give him a lift, it was the least he could do.

“I… no. There is no place for me there… not anymore.” The amount of pain in his voice made Jaster ache to reach out and comfort him. Handing Jango off to Silas, he knew the lad hero worshiped his son and would take care of him, he stepped closer to the Jetii. Reaching out he gripped the man’s bicep and squeezed it reassuringly.

“There is a place with me and my people, if you want it.” He had already proven he was mandokarla when he not only saved Jaster’s life but tried to hand over the Dha’kad’au without a moment of hesitation. The redhead referred to him as Mand’alor and the fact that he already spoke Mando’a just sealed the deal in Jaster’s mind. “What is your name?”

The man gave a shy yet tired smile. “Ben, Ben Kenobi.” Jaster nodded and gave him another gentle squeeze before letting go.

“Jaster Mereel, welcome to the Haat Mando’ade, vod.” He was sure that the others would be eying him as if he’d gone senile but Jaster didn’t care. He’d figure out what to tell them to get them off his back. They had a long trek back to the ships and there were still enemies luring about. “Got enough in you to get back to the ships?” Ben’s eyes hardened as he squared his shoulders, like a veteran soldier.

“Yes, Sir.” Jaster felt a shiver run down his spine. Oh, he could get used to this man calling him Sir.

Mando'a;

Jetii/Jetiise- Jedi, Jedi Plural. Manda- The collective soul or heaven. The state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit. Also a supreme, overarching, guardian like presence. The Mandalorians in this fic use it to refer to the Force as well. Haat'ade- Shortened from Haat Mando'ade, meaning True Mandalorians. Dar'manda- No longer Mandalorian. A Manalorian that has lost their soul and their right to call themselves Mandalorian. Dha'kad'au- The Darksaber. Mandokarla- Having the right stuff. The state of being the epitome of Mandalorian virtues. Kyr'tsad- Death Watch. Mando'ad/ade- Mandalorian, Mandalorian plural. Dral'gaan- 'Powerful hand,' my own name for Mandalorian hand to hand combat.

[daydream-ideas]

The Shadows

I’m not sure if this an actual real life concept, as yet again, I have not done any research, but I saw it in a few manhwa’s and stole it for my paracosm hahaha. 

The Emperor’s Shadows. 

People who are tasked with following and protecting the emperor in secret, away from the eyes of anyone who might be watching, even the emperor’s own knights and average guards. They’re useful for protection when the emperor has to go somewhere discreetly and the addition of knights would give away too much, plus, they can be sent on errands to gather intel as spies. 

Lyr gathers up all the assassins who previously worked for the king of Misian (though the king said that he ‘owned’ them) who Lyr usurped the throne from and makes them into his Shadows, having them be spies rather than assassins as they previously were, since the skillset is rather similar (having to be stealthy, etc.) but I still just refer to them as assassins anyway.

—

warnings for: torture, conditioning, assassins (wow shocker), war mention, human experimentation, drugs, addiction, slavery, forced labor

Silas  – the first assassin

He was the best of the five, and the one sent to kill Lyr when he first claimed the throne of his home kingdom, Avimier. Lyr defeated him (which honestly was just kind of luck and Lyr’s paranoia since he’d just gone through a coup at the hands of his knights, so he was really on edge, but Silas is super good at fighting) and had him sent to the dungeons, where he pretty much forgot about him for the next couple of years lol. When he sentences Silas to be imprisoned, he tells his guards to “find out who sent him” which, given the history of Avimier’s past monarchs who were typically cruel, the guards interpreted the order as “torture the assassin until he reveals who sent him” which Lyr does not consider at all (he’s new to this and doesn’t yet know how things work) and that’s how Lyr accidentally had a man tortured 😬 

He later releases Silas when he discovers what’s been done to him in the dungeons, but this isn’t until after the war with the Sylnera’ti kingdom which occurs much later in the timeline (it’s the third kingdom he conquers) and the king who sent Silas (the Misian king) is already dead. 

The Misian king (he doesn’t deserve a name) tortured all his assassins so he could condition them to follow him as living weapons and nothing else, and as a result, Silas had shut off any part of himself that could feel emotion as a way to survive, long before he ever even met Lyr. Due to his past conditioning, him hearing Lyr’s name during the vicious torture he endured in the dungeons, it rewired his brain to be absolutely loyal to Lyr as his king, rather than as a target. 

This is something that brings great discomfort to Lyr when he finds out because it’s not like this is something he wanted to have happen, even if it does technically benefit him. It’s also not something I was planning on sharing here? because it is super fucked up and Lyr is still my precious bean even if he did something like this, but yeah, there’s that. 

Silas has long white / silver hair and grey eyes that hold no emotion. He’s the most anti-social para of the whole cosm and prefers to skulk in the library rather than interact with anyone. People also don’t like being around him as even his presence unnerves them — they don’t even know he’s an assassin, it’s just that monotone, expressionless way about him that creeps them out. He likes to nap in odd places that aren’t meant for sleeping. 

—

Casimir – the second assassin

Given a less dramatic backstory than Silas, as the remaining assassins all dispersed from the Misian castle after Lyr usurped the throne, going their separate ways to try and hide out while making a life for themselves — not that it was really much of a life. 

Casimir had it the best out of all the assassins being that he was remarkably average. He was still tortured by the Misian king just as the rest of them were, but didn’t garner any unwanted attention for being the best or worst. 

After leaving the castle, he joined a band of mercenaries and used his skills to complete jobs and earn a little bit of money, and for once feeling a semblance of freedom, though he was still bound by the anger and bitterness of his past. 

He was the easiest to find when Lyr went looking, as he wasn’t really being inconspicuous, though he was not happy to see another royal. Lyr, being a supreme idiot who wanted to gain Casimir’s trust so that the assassin would come back to the castle with him, allowed Casimir to take out his anger on him without fighting back (well, it’s the trust thing and also a bit of Lyr’s guilt complex but we’re not gonna get into that) and so this just, did not go very well with Alex, Lyr’s personal guard. The two still don’t get along. 

Casimir did end up joining Lyr, but is also now filled with guilt about how he treated Lyr because Lyr is nice to him unlike the Misian king, though Casimir would never admit to any of this and just takes to deliberately annoying Lyr to cover up how much he wants to apologize for what happened. (me: smh, why are you like this.) 

He develops a taste for the finer things in life after going back to the castle with Lyr, as Lyr starts giving him a stipend for his work (which the Misian king never did) as well as actually decent meals (which he also never got) and so Casimir is overwhelmed with guilt, kindness, and nice fancy things he has no idea what to do with. 

—

Ghislaine – the third assassin

contrary to Casimir, this one had it the worst out of all the assassins. He was the worst at being an assassin, and the most rebellious during the ‘conditioning’ stage, and generally disliked by the Misian king the most, which lead to a whole variety of unpleasantness. 

He was tortured even more than all the other assassins, which left him with hundreds of tiny, meticulously cut scars all across his hands, arms, face, and chest. The Misian king also decided to try and ‘enhance’ Ghislaine’s abilities by experimenting on him to try and make him a SUPER ASSASSIN which notably, didn’t work out so well. 

Because of the experiments, Ghislaine now survives on this custom-made drug which damages him and keeps him alive in equal measure — he needs to take it or else he’ll die, but it’s also getting him addicted and giving him terrible side-effects that cause him great pain. He takes as much of the serum as he can when he escapes the castle when Lyr usurps the throne, but he still runs out of it some months later and has to break into the castle to try and get more. This is when he meets Lyr, as he’s captured while trying to steal the serum. It’s early winter, just before the big snows but at the point when things are starting to frost, and Lyr can see how withered Ghislaine has become. 

He’s been living on the streets as no one will take him in—whether at an inn or for a job, because no one wants to look at him because of his scars. They’re very apparent and impossible to hide, so they make it hard for him to go anywhere without being chased off, so he ends up on the streets. 

Lyr makes him a deal that he’ll let Ghislaine have the serum and will have his potions man try and engineer something that doesn’t cause as much damage to his body, if Ghislaine will stay and serve him. Ghislaine doesn’t want to serve another royal after what happened to him at the hands of the last one, but he also knows he can’t stay out on the streets during winter, and needs that serum to survive. 

He’s also my favorite of the five ❤

—

Devere – fourth assassin

This one I know the least about since I haven’t really daydreamed with him too much, but he’s a good boi. He leaves the castle and goes to the coast to work on a ship, even though he’s really not suited for it or good at it. He’s constantly harassed, teased, mocked, bullied, and beaten by the other sailors and shipworkers, but he prefers that to everything he went through in the castle. His soul is slowly dying like this, but he pushes away the feeling because he knows it could be so much worse. 

He’s the most reticent of all the assassins when Lyr comes to try and retrieve him, so it takes a lot of negotiation in order to get him to go back to the castle. He doesn’t try to harm Lyr like Casimir did, taking out his anger and bitterness on a figurehead, rather, he just shuts down and tries to ignore them like he’s trying to ignore his own trauma.

—

Zev – fifth assassin

He’s the last acquired assassin due to being the hardest to get to. He’s not even in the empire, but in the kingdom of Inscitus, which is ruled by a king who’s not actively at war with Lyr, but the two still don’t have a good relationship because of reasons.

Zev was sent away to the salt mines of Inscitus by the Misian king, before Lyr usurped the throne, where he was imprisoned and forced to mine as basically a slave for several years. He’s gaunt and thin and sickly when Lyr finds him, and since Emperor!Lyr can’t just go and ask another kingdom for a prisoner without raising suspicions or endangering relations, it’s time for Servant!Lyr to do a prison break with a very willful assassin.

Lyr, Alex, and Silas rescue Zev from the mines and escape the kingdom, having to travel back to the castle on a small wagon through the forest with an angry, sick man who didn’t even make it to death’s doorstep, he passed out on death’s front lawn.

Probs my second favorite of the five right now

 —

[socialcasualty]

for @thismcrning !!

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ       taejeong was making his way back to the house, feet planted on the skateboard and knees slightly bent so he’d go faster. he knew the streets by heart, since it was also the way he made everyday to get back from school ;;;;; this time around, however, tj was coming from one of the rare no practice days, when a few dudes from the team would get hang out, playing hoop at a nearby court and getting some.burgers and fries. the coach wouldn’t allow much of them, trying to keep them focused, but it was no harm seeing none of them had time to do it more often than two or three times a month, anyway. no backpack on his back, books or gym stuff to carry around---- just his shirt tied around his left arm, nothing but his keys and his phone on the pocket of his basketball shorts, which hung low on his waist, the tip of his boxers showing a little. usually, when he skated by himself, he was quick, skillfully avoiding people, cars and whatever would get on his way, rapidly getting to his destination, and this time, it wasn’t different. tj spent some time doing a few tricks and messing around on curbs before going inside, and judging by the silence that filled his ears, he wondered if he was alone. he threw his keys on the table, aiming for the little centerpiece one of the older boys probably picked out, successfully making his shot.

              going upstairs, two steps at a time, he checked his phone for any sign of silas and smiled as he texted his boyfriend an obnoxious amount of messages, all of them of the same nature, where are youuuuuuus and similar words. after a quick shower, tj changed to some sweatpants and wondered if he should’ve get another quick workout before busying himself with something else. he decided against it, hadon’s voice echoing through his mind, reminding him to take it easy on his shoulder last time he hurt it. he guessed silas would still be busy at work, or else he would’ve replied by then. grabbing the first clean oversized shirt he saw, and fishing for his key on the centerpiece, taejeong headed out once more, planning on surprising his boyfriend and picking him up from work--- and that is, figuratively pick him up, seeing he didn’t have a car or a motorcycle and on his best chance, he’d have silas skateboard back home with him, like plenty of times before. silas didn’t seem to mind it, but of course taejeong did. you did have to know him a bit to know he went past that i don’t care persona when it came to silas. at the end of the day, all he had to offer was his company and he wasn’t sure for how long that would be enough. still, tj would walk to pick silas up and show he cared---- kind of lost on his mind, it took a few seconds for him to notice the tiny figure walking up to him on their street. “ shit, si, ” he smiled, stopping on his tracks and waiting for the other to get closer. “ i was just about to head there and walk back with you. ”

[keyofjetwolf]

@cello-moon submitted:

SO! Submitting as this is long. You certainly don’t need to publish it if you don’t want to!

Tipsy Sumerian/Akkadian Mythology 101 as relevant to Camilla.

Our Relevant Mythological Cast

The Dean - Inanna later known as Ishtar, the Goddess of Love, War, and the Sky

The Death Goddess - Ereshkigal, Queen of Kur, sometimes called Irkalla/Irgal (depending on the translator), the land of the dead

These two are sisters, possibly twins depending on the translation.

(also named dropped are 2 of the 4 members of the Silas Board of Governors - Enki, Patron of Eridu, God of Knowledge, Mischief, and Seawater who is the sentience behind the Library originally and the Owl Lady whom Laf calls as Ukuku, the prophetess of Eridu.)

So mythology backstory as paraphrased from memory (and let me preface this with, scholars argue which of these myths happened first because they both reference the other at some points as if the other one happened first.)

Epic of Gilgamesh - King Gilgamesh (the main character of the Epic) is the 5th King of Uruk - the city Inanna is patron of - and he’s kind-of an arrogant bag of dicks (example: he’s credited with starting the practice of prima nocta). Inanna decides she wants to take Gilgamesh as her lover and consort and refuses to take no for an answer when he turns her down. Specifically, he mentions that she got her husband trapped in the underworld, has generally mistreated many of her previous lovers and he wants no part of her lack of … non-sexual care for her lovers. She goes to some of the higher ranking gods in the Sumerian hierarchy and basically throws a temper tantrum demanding that they hand Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven, over to her to best Gilgamesh in combat and make him agree to her demands. If they won’t hand Gugalanna over for her to use, she threatens to tear down the gates to the underworld and let loose the dead to devour the living.

One problem here? Gugalanna is Ereshkigal’s husband.

Another problem here? Gilgamesh and Enkidu, his Best Friend/Lover (depending on the interpretation/translation) kill Gugalanna and Enkidu decides to desecrate the body by tearing off the bull’s right thigh and throwing it at Inanna’s head.

Descent of Inanna - there are 2 majorly different version of this poem - the Sumerian one and the Akkadian one.

Sumerian - Inanna decides she’s going to visit her sister, Ereshkigal to attend the funeral rites for her dearly departed brother-in-law, you know, the one Inanna got killed in the Epic of Gilgamesh. This pisses Ereshkigal off so she orders the 7 gates of Kur bared shut and sends her gatekeeper to only allow Inanna through each gate after something is sacrificed/removed. St the first gate, it’s her scepter of power, further gates are jewelry, armor, clothing, ect (all standing for some mastery or strength) and at the last gate she must give up her Divinity to enter Ereshkigal’s throne room - naked and moral. Ereshkigal screams at her, kills her, and chains and mounts her body on a meat hook in her throne room for all the dead to see.

Three days later, Inanna’s handmaiden goes to the other gods of the Sumerian hierarchy asking for help for her mistress. Only Enki agrees to help - sending two divine spirits made from the dirt under his fingernails to help. They retrieve Inanna’s corpse and one gives her their life and the other their divinity to restore Inanna to her original state. Ereshkigal demands a replacement for the no-longer-in-Kur Inanna and, through a series of not relevant to Carmilla events, Inanna’s husband Dumzuid is trapped in Kur forever.

Akkadian - Inanna decides to conquer the underworld for no stated reason other than perhaps shits and giggles and encounters the same 7 gates where she must remove her the same clothing, jewelry, makeup, and divinity. In a rage, when Inanna reaches the throne room, she tackles Ereshkigal and they engage in combat where Inanna loses, is imprisoned in her mortal flesh, and inflicted with 60 diseases. While Inanna is being held in the underworld because she is a goddess of love, no sex can happen on Earth. It takes 3 days for the other gods realize this, come together, and ask Ereshkigal to give Inanna the water of life and restore her to her original state.

Plus, there’s a whole lot of blink (or be unfamiliar with this mythology) and you’ll miss it foreshadowing and namedropping happening even as far back as season 1 indicating that the Sumerian language may be important/relevant, since it just kept popping up in various ways. I’d be happy to point out some of them to you, but I remember from the SU Freezer Friendship Bracelet Shenanigans from ages past that you usually prefer to notice or choose not to notice them yourself.

Hopefully this makes somewhat sense and you can see where the Carmilla authors took inspiration, pulled themes and such, and how it’s similar to what they did in Season 1 with the Sheridan Le Fanu Carmilla novel being a close, but not perfectly accurate record of what happened in the show’s past and what is happening in that season.

(AND HEY! Carmilla doesn’t have to be over unless you want it to! There’s still the movie, if you’re up for it!)

and:

I FORGOT TO INCLUDE THIS PARAGRAPH IN THE SUMERIAN SUMMARY! OH GOSH! THE REASON INANNA'S HUSBAND IS PICKED AS THE ONE TO GET STUCK IN THE UNDERWORLD IS BECAUSE HE WAS THE ONLY ONE NOT WEARING MOURNING CLOTHING/MOURNING FOR INANNA. HE WAS JUST SWANNING AROUND IN HIS DIVINE FINERY WHILE SHE WAS TEMP DEAD. SO REGARDLESS OF IF IT WAS GILGAMESH OR HER HUSBAND WHO WAS MEANT TO BE HER BELOVED RAISED BY THE PORTAL, NEITHER OF THEM WOULD BE HAPPY TO SEE HER. YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT DUDE LEAVING HER ON READ.

I need you to know how delighted your conclusion made me. MY SHITPOST TIME WAS WELL-SPENT

All of this was super fascinating, thank you for writing it up! I still can’t stop laughing at the particular Venn diagram for all this, it’s amazing and a full 60% of the charm of the whole thing, I love it. If you’re still moved to do so, please feel free to send me the specific bits you mention in S1!

(I’ll contact you privately on the movie!)

[themosleyreview]

The Mosley Review: Zack Snyder’s Justice League

It is a rarity in cinema to get a second chance at making a film. It is even more rare for a director to complete their original vision as intended while a different version exist. Richard Donner famously had a different cut of Superman II before being removed from the film and a decent film was later released. In 2006, Richard Donner's originally lost footage was restored and the film was a significant improvement and is the superior version. Fast forward 11 years later and a similar situation had happened again with Zack Snyder's Justice League. The film was stripped of Snyder's vision and just the bare bones were left for another director to wrap a different type of meat on them. The Joss Whedon or what I like to call the "Josstice League" version, was a lighter, inconsistent and leaner film that went for the fun aspects of the story. I liked bits of it, but as a whole it failed to live up to the ground work that was laid before it. It was then the bell for the reinstatement of Zack Snyder's original vision had been rung. It was heard and now his complete 4 hour epic has arrived and it was 95% a different film all together. There were character arcs, story beats and many visuals that were not featured in the Josstice League version, it was awesome and epic to witness. There were many different paths that this film took and I applaud the bold decisions made, but I also felt the same problems still exist in this new version. I see the strategy of bringing all of these legendary heroes together in one film and then explode them out into their own solo films later and it worked in retrospect, but it just wasn't built up enough. The problems I had with this version is that there are some truly over indulgent visual moments and the pace needed to be picked in some spots. I don't want to spoil the bigger surprises of the film and I won't go too deep into what the differences are, but just know that this is a Zack Snyder film in every way and you’ll need to forgive the film if it feels dated in terms of where the DCEU is now.

The cast in the film all do excellent jobs and I love that the consistency has been restored. Its a big cast so I'm gonna highlight the standouts. Ben Affleck was good as Bruce Wayne/Batman, but he was a little too jolly at times. There are 3 parts to Bruce: billionare playboy, brooding force of strength that is almost cold to people and the world's greatest detective. Ben has only gotten the first 2 right in the Batman v Superman and in this film. He's a decent Batman, but a good Bruce Wayne. Gal Gadot was great as Diana Prince/Wonder Woman and once again she brings home the inspiration and strength the character means to all of us. Henry Cavill comes back as Clark Kent/Superman and I liked that we see him slowly comeback to the man we knew him to be. There are moments where he is even more brutal than the Josstice League version and it was somewhat terrifying. Jason Mamoa was extra brooding and cool as Arthur Curry/Aquaman and I liked that we see more of his arc as he begins to make the decisions that would lead to his solo film. Ezra Miller gets more time to shine as Barry Allen/The Flash and I liked his comedic timing and how much of a dork he is. His scenes with his father played by Billy Crudup were touching and gave him more purpose. Now the real MVP and the one character that had the strongest story was Victor Stone/Cyborg portrayed wonderfully by Ray Fisher. Even in the Josstice League version, Ray Fisher was the highlight of the film and he is even more so here. His story in the film was the most heartfelt and the evolution of Victor excepting his new life was amazing and I felt the film was almost completely his. Joe Morton was beyond perfect as his father Silas Stone and their relationship was perfectly strained as it has always been in every iteration.

Ciarán Hinds was still great, powerful and brutal as Steppenwolf. I loved that this time around you see his mission was more than just conquest of our world. His design is striking and his armor is pretty sweet looking with all the jagged edges and spikes. Peter Guinness was cool as DeSaad and I liked that we got a taste of what Darkseid's legions are like. Ray Porter brings to life one the most deadliest and dangerous villains in the DC Universe, Darkseid. I have been waiting for the day that we would see him on screen and I was not disappointed. We get see his brutality on full display and I loved every bit of it. I truly hope we get to see more of him in the future. Jared Leto returns as the Joker in a new scene and honestly, I don't think it was necessary. He was better this time, but it was kind of a throwaway scene. Yes you want to see Batman and Joker on screen and the entire sequence reminds you of Bruce's motivation to bring back Superman, but I just felt it was just not that great of a scene.

The new score by Tom Holkenborg was excellent and melodic throughout. He brings all the themes we know from the past films, but also introduced a few new ones. A piece that really stuck out to me was "Cyborg Becoming/Human All Too Human". Visually this film is spectacular in every scene and the 4:3 aspect ratio didn't bother me at all. Zack is very fond of slow motion shots and I think the effect works in a dramatic since, but when every consecutive shot after the next is in slow motion just to drag out your opening credits or something "cool", it becomes way too indulgent and it really slows the pace of the film down. It was borderline gratuitous. The film earns its R rating with a lot more bloody violence and a few F bombs, but that wasn't a problem for me since DC has always been known for pushing the limits. I just felt that there was a whole universe to build before we got to this point and it still felt rushed. The film diverts so many times that you can almost get completely lost in what the actual story of the film is. It is Zack's vision and I applaud his ambition, but I see why it was cut down so dramatically. Is this the superior film to Josstic League? Absolutely! Is it a bold direction for DC? Yes. Did it need to be a 4 hour epic? No. Could there have been 3 different films made from this one epic? Yes. In the end, I enjoyed this better than the previous version and it did not disappoint. Definitely a must watch if you've enjoyed the DC films so far and a testament to the fans supporting a filmmakers' passion and vision. It is now streaming on HBO Max, but let me know what you thought of the film and my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

[fermataheart]

dead art | silas & metzli

TIMING: Current. LOCATION: Metzli’s gallery. PARTIES: @fermataheart​ & @deathisanartmetzli​ SUMMARY: A little misunderstanding leads to a surprisingly positive outcome. CONTENT WARNINGS: Sibling death (mentions). 

It took hours to get the smell of death off of them last night. Three showers later and some perfume, and Metzli felt like they finally got it off. All they had wanted to do last night was unwind, but a stranger just had to bump into them. He just had to pull out the threatening growls from a spot reserved for their need to feel a little pain and distract themselves from their thoughts. Why they couldn’t find a better outlet, Metzli never bothered to try to find out. They were willing to just walk past, to ignore that deeply ingrained need to attack. But the stranger would not allow for that.

The two walked away after being evenly matched, or rather, because Metzli used their evasive tactics to just wear him out. Needless to say, they were a little sore as they made their rounds around the gallery. Things were finally back to normal, and patrons had long forgotten the recent show Eilidh and them gave everyone. The gallery’s success was of great importance to Metzli, and it made them feel good to see people enjoying their time surrounded by art they hand picked.

With a delighted sigh, Metzli walked towards the front as a familiar smell began to permeate through the door. Their smile turned into a frown immediately. A distasteful, and nauseating smell of death. An over-decayed smell of death. Similar to Macleod’s but much stronger. “What are you doing here?” They asked, gritting their teeth and marching towards Silas.

---

Memory issues, that was it. That had to be it. Maybe he wasn’t eating enough, going too long between meals, relying on squirrels and raccoons to sustain him… maybe it fucked with his memory. There was no other reason he should be losing time, but he was. Hours of his days and nights, just… gone. It was either memory issues, or the worst dissociation he’d ever experienced. And it had happened again last night—one minute he was laying in bed, waiting to fall asleep, and the next? Stumbling back into his apartment, confused. His clothes seemed damaged, like he’d gotten into a fight, but of course there wasn’t a mark on his body to prove it.

Ignoring it, Silas tried to squeak in a few hours of rest before the next evening rolled around and it was time for him to try out this painting thing. His stomach protested its emptiness, forcing him to go out and forage for some roadkill to sate his appetite, if only for a few hours. Gods, there had to be a better way to go about this.

Getting cleaned up as best he could in a nearby stream and making sure none of his dark clothing was stained with the carcass’ fluids, Silas hoofed it back into town and over to the gallery.

The less-than-welcome reception surprised him, and his thick brows furrowed in response. “Excuse me?” he grumbled, taken aback. “You’re Metzli, right? Came for the painting class you promised… for the writer’s block.” Confusion was evident on his face as he gave them a once-over, dark eyes narrowing. “Sorry do I—do I know you from somewhere?”

---

Metzli’s eye twitched at Silas’ apparent confusion. He was definitely the guy who incited the fight they had. For now though, they were going to give him the benefit of the doubt. “You started a fight with me. Last night. On Amity.” A layer of annoyance and disdain laced their tone and they stepped closer. “Do you not remember any of that? It was definitely you. I would remember those eyebrows anywhere.” A small dig, but a dig nonetheless.

Silence fell between the two and a hand gripped onto Silas’ hand to drag him into their office. Metzli wanted privacy, especially if there was something supernatural going on. Silas could have general memory loss, or be possessed, or maybe he was feral, or maybe he had a twin. Though, there was no way the scents would match exactly. Regardless, they wanted to get to the bottom of this.

“Okay,” Metzli began, sitting on their desk and crossing their arms, “Let’s go through this. It was you, but you don’t remember. That much is obvious given your genuine confusion. I think you’d remember hitting me with your own fucking arm and laughing hysterically.” Red eyes met with Silas’ and then they quickly faded back to black. Even with their composure intact, they were ready to pounce at any given moment.

---

“A fight?” Silas parroted them, eyes widening. “I don’t—what are you talking about?” The gentle tease drew a scoff from him, but anger was hardly his reaction. He was too damn confused to be angry, in all truthfulness.

Aforementioned brows rose at the intrusion of his personal space, but he didn’t put up much of a fight as they dragged him out of the entryway. “What the fuck,” he breathed to himself, crossing his arms over his chest once they were alone and Metzli had relinquished their grip on him, mirroring their defensive stance.

“My—my arm?” the zombie bleated in disbelief, immediately looking down at his limbs as if they would have suddenly sprouted little legs and taken off on their own. They were still both present, of course, and functioning as well as they ever had. He glanced back up just in time to catch the red glint in their eyes, and felt his stomach drop. Fuck.

“Look, uh… I don’t know, I think you got the wrong guy,” he backpedaled, rubbing his hands up and down his own arms. It was weird hearing someone tell you you’d done something you couldn’t remember—even worse when they told you you’d been dismembered doing it. “All arms are present n’ accounted for, so… sorry somebody jumped you, but I don’t see how it coulda been me…”

---

Eyes narrowed, annoyed and displeased. “Obviously you’re a zombie. I’m not an idiot. Your limbs heal fast.” Sucking their teeth, Metzli stood erect and paced around their desk to reach a drawer with a few bottles of wine. Today felt like a generous one. As they took two glasses out and poured, they raised their brows and spoke. “Listen, I believe you when you say you don’t know what I’m talking about. This place is fucking weird, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone hijacked your body or if you were sleep walking. But it was you. I can smell you.” A glass was pushed forward to Silas, a gesture of good will.

The wine was dry, and a special blend that they had purchased from a special bar, but given Silas’ condition, they didn’t think it’d be an issue. Dulled taste was something that the two of them shared, but the blood would add something to it. “Hope you don’t mind some blood in it. It just actually tastes like something if there’s a little in it.” The first sip settled most of the nerves from seeing someone Metzli suspected to be an enemy, and the next few did well to quell the rest. “Do you run into this issue often at all? Or is this a first?”

---

Obviously you’re a zombie. Silas’ spine stiffened, his posture becoming rigid as he suddenly felt overly-exposed. It wasn’t a fact he went around telling just everyone, and frankly, it was something he himself was still coming to terms with. The idea that this perfect stranger could—no, he supposed they weren’t a perfect stranger, not anymore. Not since he’d apparently attacked them in the middle of the night.

The thought of it made the knot in his stomach grow tighter, and he stared blankly at the glass as it was pushed toward him. “You can… smell me?” Fucking hell, did he stink? He hadn’t noticed, and no one else he’d been in close proximity with that day had made any indication… what the—

“Never mind, don't answer that. I’m… eugh,” Silas groaned, reaching for the glass with a thankful nod. Looking down at it, his ears pricked at the mention of blood. “Who’s blood?” he asked, though the question wasn’t delivered in a way that seemed accusatory, just curious.

“Often? No, I don’t think so.” There was a beat of silence. “Well, maybe. M’not sure. Lately, I guess… lately I’ve been losin’ time. Didn’t think much of it.” Lifting the glass to his lips, the zombie took a long sip, relishing the way it actually managed to tickle his taste buds. “Figured… it was a diet thing.” Giving a half-hearted shrug, he let his gaze flick back to meet Metzli’s. “Sorry about—I, ah… didn’t know I had it in me.”

---

Metzli smiled and then laughed heartily, “I have a very keen sense of smell. Comes with the bite.” A single brow quirked upwards and their smile didn’t waver. “Don’t know whose blood it is, but the barkeep let me know that it was all donated willingly. That was enough for me.” Their shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, a little dismissive of the question. Knowing that much about how the blood was sourced was good enough for them. It had to be. Being ethical about where their source of sustenance came from was becoming a real burden. But they supposed if they were going to be good, it was worth a shot.

“Losing time? Sounds like a run of the mill possession. Piss off any ghosts lately, Sylvain?” Metzli inquired, more out of curiosity than concern. Silas was a stranger, but Metzli knew Sylvain from last night. “Someone could be taking your body for a joyride and you don’t even know it. If you can figure that out, you can generally ward the ghost off and be done with it.”

---

Possession? Syl— “What?” The reaction was unguarded, unfiltered, and absolutely wracked with shock. Silas couldn’t even immediately respond, gawking at Metzli, dumbfounded, as they went on to explain what could be done about it.

“Did you just… call me Sylvain?” His voice was barely above a whisper, the wine glass clutched tightly in his hands, pale knuckles somehow turning an even brighter shade of white. His eyes darted to the side, staring at something that was just behind his host. Breaths came quick and shallow while a ringing started up in his ears—he’d never felt this kind of fear when seeing the ghost of his sibling before, but now… The spectre was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and Silas was unsure if he’d only imagined it.

“Fuck.” While trying to steady his panic, the zombie downed a large portion of the wine Metzli had so kindly offered, glancing around the room like he was expecting a boogeyman to jump out at any second. “My brother. My twin, I—we, uh… it’s a long story.” Another gulp of wine. “He’s been dead for a long time. Since we were kids.” Why would he…?

---

Brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding why the name would throw him off so much. “Yeah, Sylvain. That’s the name you gave me last night.” Metzli answered, still not quite catching on until he began to explain. It was their turn to be shocked, mouth agape and unable to say anything for a few moments while they let their thoughts settle. “Looks like your brother has been having a little fun at your expense. I’d probably start sleeping with a salt ring around ya.” Voice was clearly joking, not registering the sensitivity the topic held.

“What’s your actual name then?” Metzli asked as they poured more wine into Silas’ glass and theirs too. Legs crossed and they adjusted their suit as inner turmoil painted itself on their companion. “He probably just wants to live a little.”

---

“He can’t do that, he can’t just…” Heaving a sigh, Silas pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m Silas. And whatever happened last night was definitely not…” His hand fell from his face, eyelids fluttering open as he stared off into the middle distance. His voice was low and soft, laced with disbelief. “Not like Sylvain.”

A few more beats, and he glanced down at the glass in his hand, recently refilled. His gaze was hard and purposeful, as if he’d find all his answers in the deep red liquid. “He’s been around since it happened. I could always feel him. Didn’t actually see him til’ I got turned, ah’course. N’ he ain’t like any other ghost I’ve ever interacted with, he’s… quiet. Real quiet. Just stares at me, watches me, all hours of the day and night. Catch ‘im sometimes in the reflections of windows n’ puddles in the road, lookin’ at me… don’t know what he wants.”

You do now, his thoughts interjected. “Might be mad about what happened…” Of course he’s mad. It was your fault.

Forcing himself to look at Metzli again, Silas let out a soft, embarrassed chuckle. “Shit, sorry. This is a… lot. Mm, yeah—a lot. Thanks, uh, for the drink.” Lifting the glass in their direction, the zombie couldn’t hide the distant look of worry in his eyes, though he appeared to be trying to force his way past it. “Anyway, um… how badly did you kick my ass last night? M’curious.”

---

Metzli was familiar with that distant look, seeing it many times on themselves and others. The severity of the situation finally reached them, and made them suck their teeth in discomfort. “Uh, sorry about that...man.” Words were slow and awkward, unsure of how to go about it. Though they didn’t particularly feel bad, they knew how to logically see the circumstances for what they were: fucking depressing.

“You don’t have to go into any details. That’s your business,” Metzli said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t continue. That would just make everything feel even more cumbersome. “Didn’t do much ass kicking if I’m being honest.” A smile curled onto their lips and a chuckle tickled their throat. “I pretty much just tried to wear you out enough to just walk away. I was pretty drunk too.”

There was a knock at the door, followed by Janet, their employee, opening it and telling them that the final patron left. With a nod, they thanked her and waved her away. “Well Silas, the painting class should start soon. Think the class could help get your mind off things? Maybe even get you out of that writer’s block.”

---

Grateful that they didn’t press for more information, Silas allowed a small, amused smile to play at his lips. “Explains why I was so fucking exhausted when I.. came to back at home.” Fuck all of that. There had to be a way to get Sylvain to just leave him alone, once and for all. The presence of his twin had lost all its comfort years ago.

Looking between the two, Silas took another large gulp of the wine, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, yeah,” he said once he was able, “worth a shot, anyway.” Hell, it sounded like he might have plenty to write about after all… like the experience of being fucking possessed, for one. If only he could remember it.

---

“Follow me. You can bring your glass too.” Metzli beckoned him with a wave and walked out of their office. The painting room was only a few paces away and already seemed to have a few of the frequent customers Metzli saw on a weekly basis. Their scents were registered in their mind and they smiled. “Hopefully the class does you some good. And sorry you didn’t get a chance to view the rest of the gallery. That was my bad.” Words were spoken away from Silas, arms crossed behind them. Upon reaching the room, a finger pointed towards a rack of smocks. “Grab a smock from there and put it over your clothes. Class will start soon.”

Friendly faces smiled and waved as the two creatures walked in, greeted in return with a smile full of charm. “Hey Tim, hey Lorraine.” They waved and gestured toward Silas. “This is Silas. He’s trying it out today. Make sure to give him a few pointers.” A playful wink floated its way to Silas when they turned and they chuckled. Demeanor completely changed to cater towards the teaching position they were now in.

Removing their suit jacket, they went to the front of the room and put on a red smock to cover the rest of their suit. Canvases were all up, including theirs and the clock ticked its hand on the 7, indicating class should begin. “All right painters, let’s get started. Today is a novice class, so we will be painting something relatively simple, but fun.” The painting to their right was of a landscape during the night, full of trees and stars, even a few shooting in the sky.

---

“Oh, no, don’t worry ‘bout it—just means I can come back again soon to give it a proper look.” Wandering after Metzli, Silas was impressed by the shift in their demeanor. They sure were professional, if nothing else. Sipping awkwardly at the wine still in his hand, he used the other to throw a small wave back at the strangers, recognizing one of them from a coffee shop they’d both been in a few weeks back. When the introduction was made and attention shifted fully to him, he bit his lower lip and forced a smile, glancing down at his boots. He wasn’t normally this shy, but something was seriously throwing him off tonight. “Oh yeah, I’m real garbage at it—y’all are gonna have to carry me,” he warned playfully, managing to steal a glance at the strangers before letting his attention fall back on the gallery owner.

Something told Silas that he wouldn’t mind coming back here at all. Metzli seemed like a good sort.

Setting down his glass by a blank, unclaimed canvas, the zombie went to fetch a smock and loop it over his neck, watching how the others prepared for the evening’s activity and mimicking them. And, very much as expected, his skill was lacking. His peers would occasionally lean over to give him a pointer when they heard him mutter under his breath about how the paint wasn’t cooperating, still encouraging him despite the preschooler level of talent that was displayed on the canvas in front of him, but… he was enjoying it. If nothing else, it had removed the thought of his brother from his mind entirely, and the escape from anxiety was welcome. At some point, he pulled his long hair back into a messy bun, succeeding in ensuring he’d need a shower when he got home as the blue paint on his fingers tinted his dark hair.

As Metzli made their rounds, Silas gave them a sheepish grin as they approached to see his progress. “Painting only a mother could love,” he joked at his own expense, giving them a shrug. “Still, though… I think it’s doin’ the trick. Thanks again, for the suggestion, and—” He looked down at the now-emptied glass of wine, brows raised, “you’re gonna have to tell me where you got that, so I can get some of my own.”

---

With every brush stroke, the rest of the painters followed and listened to instruction carefully. Teaching wasn’t something that Metzli saw themselves doing, but there was a feeling of accomplishment when there was at least one student that did well. Tonight was not one of those nights though, and all the students were very amateur or…Silas. But given the evening he was having, they thought it best to be gentle. “Nonsense, Silas. We all start…” Metzli gestured to the painting, “…somewhere.”

A chuckle rang out and Metzli patted Silas on the shoulder. “I’ll give you the other bottle I have in my office. A little gift on me and an incentive to come back. I like you, so maybe we can be friends.”

Making one last round around the room, they walked to the front once more and finished the class with the final brush strokes on the canvas. Everyone presented their paintings, and complimented one another before packing up and shuffling out of the room, leaving the undead alone. “So what did you think? You gonna come every week?”

---

Releasing a breathy chuckle, Silas supposed that was a fair enough deal—a new friend in exchange for a bottle of wine. Graciously accepting the encouraging words of his peers before they all emptied out of the gallery, the zombie gave Metzli a sidelong glance before breaking out into his own laugh. “Well shit, I think I have to, now. I get the feeling Lorraine would hunt me down and give me an earful for giving up after the first night.” His eyes squinted in a grin as his chin tilted down toward the floor, hands bracing against his hips in a thoughtful pose.

“But yeah, I don’t see why I shouldn’t—it was fun, even though I’m shit at it.” He was compelled to thank them again, but it would have been too many times in one evening, so he bit his tongue instead. “Plus… you’re not so bad,” he teased, nose wrinkling. “Oh! But, uh… if you ever wanna see me doin’ somethin’ a little more in my wheelhouse, I play at Del’s most Friday nights ‘round ten. Sometimes we got the whole band, sometimes it’s just me, but.. yeah. Dunno how ya feel ‘bout gothic folk, but if you’ve never given it a listen, y’should stop in some time after class.”

---

“Gothic folk? Sounds like fun. I’ll visit some time and check it out. I gather there’ll be fiddle and everything?” Metzli loved fiddle as much as they loved classical violin. Stringed instruments held a special place. “Maybe we could even play a tune or two together. I actually play guitar. Mostly Mexican acoustic. I like to stay close to my heritage.” They smiled and patted Silas’ shoulder to lead him out of the room and back towards their office.

Grabbing the bottle, they turned and spoke with a more serious tone, “On a less lighter note, I would seriously consider sleeping with a salt circle around your room or even just your bed. At least until you figure out what the hell to do.” Metzli shrugged and handed the bottle over to Silas. “At least you made a fantastic friend and even got a free painting class though. Next one though, you’re totally paying. Paint ain’t cheap.” The tone shifted, just as they had planned. Things had been serious too often lately for them, and it would be nice to not have to deal with much more of it.

“Did we cure your writer’s block at all?”

---

Brightening like a kid who’d just been asked what his favorite kind of dinosaur was, Silas nodded energetically. “Hell yeah there’ll be fiddle, that’s my specialty.” Hearing that Metzli was a fellow acoustic enthusiast, his delight only grew. “Really? That’d be dope! M’always keen for a jam session. Get that though—stickin’ to your roots. My whole family is from down in the Louisiana bayous. Spent many a summer there with ‘em… definitely a significant influence on the kind of sound I make. Dixieland, that’s what I grew up hearin’.”

Following after them as the pair re-entered the office, Silas held out a hand to accept the bottle, his own boyish grin fading as the topic shifted. “Yeah…” the young man sighed, “yeah… you’re probably right. I’ll pick up some Morton’s on the way home.” The grin returned in a flash, softer and lopsided, but still a far cry from the fear he’d felt previously. A laugh was quick to follow, thumbs brushing over the label of the wine bottle as he offered Metzli a shrug. “You know what? I think we did.” Giving them a resolute nod, he pressed his lips into a thin line. “Body-snatching ghost twin… that’s got some fuckin’ songs buried in it, at the least. Sheesh.” A comfortable silence passed between them for a beat before Silas puffed out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Well… shouldn’t keep you any longer. Thanks, uh… yeah.” Too much. Grinning apologetically, the zombie held out a hand to shake. “Gotta get home and take a three hour shower, since apparently I stink,” came an afterthought of a quip, married with a chuckle. “Good meeting you, Metzli. See you around, yeah?”

---

Metzli was really enjoying the energy that Silas emanated. “Looking forward to hearing your sound and maybe even playing something together.” They smiled, matching the same spark of their counterpart. Even with the overwhelming news of his long dead brother possessing him, Silas was undeterred. At least, that’s what he presented externally. Metzli knew all too well what it was like to sew together the pieces of a torn facade. A performance, a dance they understood after decades of being on that stage.

“Glad to be of assistance. Hasta luego, carnal.” Metzli gave a friendly wave, watching their zombie friend walk away with a renewed spirit. Today, they made a choice to make a new friend. Every day it seemed like they added someone new, further rooting themselves to White Crest. Rooting themselves to the first place they could ever call home.