#Jester Thread anon

[selfship-confession-box]

posted about my familial f/o in a server and got responses like “oh he’d be a a terrible dad” and “I don’t know if I should be concerned or amused that you think of him as a dad” :(

-🃏🧵 (chances are I’ll be back)

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[xichilie]

Your Brant stuff is wonderful, thank you for your service 🫡🫡 truly grateful for the food akajdjad

Any thoughts on a Brant soulmate au? Or reader gets hurt in battle?

I'll pop back in, so may I be 🍣 sushi anon?

Hello 🍣 ♡

I'm glad you like my work, I'm here to serve you soulmate AU Brant 🫡

Brant x (fem) reader

A Fools fate

Brant had always imagined what his soulmate might be like.

As a child, the thought had been one of whimsical daydreams. Back then, he would steal moments beneath the high arches of the Cathedral of Mercury, lying on his back on the cool stone floor, staring up at the endless patterns of stars painted across the vaulted ceiling. He used to wonder if they would be kind, if they would laugh at his jokes, if they would understand the way his mind leaped from thought to thought like a performer on a tightrope. He imagined them as a partner in mischief, someone who would run through the streets with him, hands intertwined, hearts racing as they escaped some minor trouble.

Then the banishment happened.

Then the world taught him that hope was a foolish thing.

Brant had always been called a fool, but he learned that to hope—to truly believe in something as pure as destiny—was the cruelest jest of all. The Order of the Deep had sent him away, cast him to the sea on the Pilgrim's Sail, branding him a heretic for questioning what should not be questioned. He had thought then, as the waves swallowed his screams, that fate was not kind, that if he had a soulmate, they would never find him.

But despite it all, a small, stubborn part of him still dreamed.

Even after surviving Penitent's End, even after forging the Troupe of Fools and carving out a life among those deemed unworthy, he still let himself imagine. Would his soulmate pity him? Would they look at him with disgust upon seeing he is cast away labeled a Fool? Would they recoil, realizing they were bound to a man that all of Ragunna had forsaken?

For years, these thoughts lingered at the edge of his mind, unspoken but ever-present.

And then, on a night of golden light and laughter, everything changed.

The streets of Rinascita were alive with the pulse of the Carnevale.

Music filled the air, twining through the alleys and plazas, the rhythm of drums and the soaring notes of flutes weaving into a grand tapestry of sound. Lanterns of deep crimson and gold swung overhead, casting flickering light upon the masked revelers who danced through the city in a swirl of color. Everywhere, laughter and song filled the night, drowning out all worries, all burdens. For this night, and this night alone, the past did not matter.

And yet, despite the revelry, Brant felt something pull at him—a sensation like a thread wrapped around his ribcage, tugging him forward, guiding him through the throng of people.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. He had always had sharp instincts, a knack for following his gut. But this was different. This was urgent.

He wove through the crowd, past jesters and masked nobles, past merchants hawking jeweled trinkets and perfumed silks. The laughter around him faded into a distant hum, his pulse pounding in his ears. The pull grew stronger, more insistent, leading him away from the grand plazas and deeper into the quiet edges of the celebration.

And then—

He saw her.

She stood just beyond the glow of the lanterns, half in shadow, watching the festivities with quiet eyes. She wasn’t dancing, wasn’t caught up in the chaos like the others. There was something still about her, something that made the air around her feel different. A quiet presence, a beacon in the storm.

Brant stopped in his tracks.

He had spent years imagining this moment, playing out countless scenarios in his mind. He had thought that if he ever met his soulmate, he would know instantly, that there would be some great, grand revelation—music swelling, the world pausing, something unmistakable.

But in the end, it was something simpler. A deep, resonant certainty that struck him to his very core.

And then, as if fate itself wished to carve the truth into the very fabric of reality, it happened.

A golden thread shimmered into existence between them.

Brant barely had time to process what he was seeing before it moved, twisting like a ribbon caught in an invisible breeze. It wound itself around his wrist first, warm against his skin, before reaching for her and binding them together.

His breath caught.

He had always heard the stories—the golden thread of fate that tied soulmates together, a tangible mark of destiny’s will. But to see it, to feel it—

He exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching at his side.

Would she flinch? Would she look at him with fear or disgust, realizing who fate had tethered her to? He braced himself, old wounds threatening to open anew.

But when she lifted her gaze to meet his, there was no fear.

Only wonder.

Her lips parted slightly as she looked down at their bound wrists. She raised her hand, fingers brushing the golden thread as if testing whether it was real. A flicker of something passed across her face—not hesitation, not wariness, but recognition.

Brant swallowed, suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath.

"Well," he said, voice softer than usual, lacking his usual theatrical lilt. "That’s unexpected."

A breath of laughter escaped her, quiet but real. "Is it?"

"Not the soulmate part." His lips quirked into a wry smile. "But I thought the universe might have a crueler sense of humor."

She tilted her head slightly. "You don’t seem too disappointed."

Brant exhaled, glancing at the golden thread still wrapped around their wrists. "Disappointed?" He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. "No. Just... wondering how I’m supposed to make a grand first impression when fate has already decided this for me."

She smiled, a small, knowing thing. "You don’t need one."

His heart stuttered in his chest.

For all his wit, all his charm, all the ways he had learned to deflect with humor, he found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he lifted his hand, gently brushing his fingers against the thread. The moment he did, warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading like sunlight after a storm.

She felt it too—he could see it in the way her breath caught, in the way her fingers curled slightly as if to hold onto that sensation.

Brant let out a shaky exhale, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "Well then," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent. "It seems I have a lifetime to make up for lost time."

She smiled, and this time, it was brighter than the lanterns, warmer than the night itself.

Brant didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know what trials they would face, what obstacles lay ahead. But as he stood there, hand still bound to hers, he knew one thing for certain.

Fate had not been cruel after all.

[sinister-sincerely]

... do you have specific design notes for the What They Were Not Made For, fellas........................ Hypothetically............................

OOOH! I was hoping I could eventually talk a bit more about this story, Thank you dearest Anon for asking! There are some design notes I have been following, (which will become very important in later chapters for story reasons). The boys in this universe follow the same standard story- theater bots placed in the Daycare due to budgeting concerns. This means for them, however, that their costumes are more extravagant. Their harem pants for example are made of velvet; Moon has his stars embordered on his pants with rich gold thread. Sun, never to be out staged, has golden freckles on his face that are designed to catch the light (draw the eye) Both boys wear the same kind of satin maroon ruffles cinched around their waists; and around their necks they wear a sort of Jester Cowl (same colour) it is close to the neck joint but moves with them. Very flowy. Now. They are surprisingly dirty - maybe not noticed from afar but up close they have dulled paint, dirt on their joints- handprints... (from the children, no one else, nope) ... even small stains on the darker parts of their costumes. Their faces too have small indentations- around the edges of their faceplate as if something sharp was pressed against those sides and dragged down... Moon has darkened eyes with red pupils- they can grow and contract with his attention but most of the time the pupils are small. Both boys can contort their mouths, open their smiles, however, they usually stick to the static smile that we're all familiar with as its very important to their act on being insentient animatronics. - Overall hauntingly beautiful from afar but up close you can see some problems... Heheh, Thank you again for asking!

[popatochisssp]

The Court AU has me DEAD!!! If you’d be willing, what sort of outfits would they wear? I’d love to draw them!

Anon, I had so many tabs open looking up medieval-type fashion and armor, we're talking like 30+, felt super awesome finishing this and closing them all 😌

Anyway--

Sans (Undertale): What’s black and blue and white all over? Why, him of course! His jester’s motley features a black-and-white diamond pattern, offset by bright, rich, royal blue—a mark of his service to the king. He doesn’t wear one of those silly hats, though…because he wears a silly hood instead! Less chance of falling off, you see. When not in costume he tends toward simple tunics, of decent material and often still in blue.

Papyrus (Undertale): Almost never out of full plate armor, even in downtime, he has to dress for the job he wants and that means being a shining metal bastion of knightly glory at all times! …Though he does often remove his helmet and hold it by his sword at his hip, or fasten it to his steed’s side. He’s a very handsome skeleton, it would be cruel to deny the people the chance to see their hero’s face!

Sky (Underswap Sans): Soft blues and yellows, as a squire only lightly armored—greaves and pauldrons, a mail shirt beneath his tunic if he’s expected to go into battle—but he considers even that much armoring to be overkill for what he’s doing. Still, his Captain insists, and it makes his brother feel better, so he takes care protecting himself. He has some nicer finery to wear about court, as a nobleman, but tends simpler for anything that might be dirtied or torn in training.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Rich green and earthy browns, his clothing tends to be without ostentation—no embroidery, no gold buckles or buttons, or anything especially elaborate. He may be noble but he’s a scholar and a recluse and prefers not to stand out much. Still, the fabrics of which his clothing is made are always fine, as coarse or stiff materials quite put him off. Mostly cottes—long belted tunics—with the occasional robe over, if it's cold.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Blacks and browns, sturdy plain clothes which can stand up to considerable wear and tear. Often wears a short diamond-quilted gambeson and some leather armor (vambraces and greaves), but always has a sword belted to his hip and a cloak made of dire-wolf’s fur draped over his shoulders. If ever he should need to acknowledge his denounced family name, he does have some finer clothing stored away somewhere—in red—and a shiny gold signet ring with his family crest on it.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate armor, dark metal heavily scratched and scorched, dents meticulously hammered back out. He also wears a tattered red cape about his shoulders that billows quite majestically behind him when he rides or runs into battle. He will occasionally dress down in laced tunics and breeches, still in red and black, fine but not too fine as to raise suspicion about his heritage. Should all that ever come out, he does have a suit of pristine night-black armor he’s been dying to inherit and a silken cape to pin about it with a golden clasp of the family’s crest.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Mostly black but flaunts his privilege and royal ties with purple accents wherever possible. Brigandine armor with a fine gold-plated gorget and pauldrons and a few other ornamental trappings—he is the Empress’ personal guard and must in some capacity be as elegant. Very fine doublets and tunics for his (rare) downtime, often with gold threading, but not fond of most jewelries.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Dark colors and crisp whites, noble yet eccentric, he has a lot of fine doublets and other such court-wear but tends not to actually…wear them. He can mostly be found in loose-fitting cottes, baggy sleeves often penned up by leather armlets to keep them out of his paints. He has a fur-hooded cloak for travel or cold weather, but he rarely leaves his rooms, much less the castle, so he doesn’t don it often.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Dark browns and off-white cream, simple rough-hewn clothing showing signs of wear and occasionally odd stains. He works in the stables, with animals, and being around animals so much makes it difficult to keep clean. He has a somewhat decent dark blue cloak that he’ll wear into town for errands, or in polite company—it has a hood to conceal the great jagged hole in his head that tends to make the squeamish or timid flinch away from him.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Still hasn’t quite shaken the habit to be armored, even when it isn’t necessary, but he’s cut down from full plate to chain mail only, much lighter and easier to move around in—which is vital when hurrying to the training field for an accident, or running to meet a wounded knight at the gates. He wears a simple tabard over his mail, blue with red edging (the Queen’s colors), and keeps a pouch of bandages and other aid supplies belted to his waist instead of a sword.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): The livery of the king’s court, gray and gold, but dyed into fabrics suitable for common folk. He still wears gray when not performing at court, tunics so thickly woven they could pass as a gambeson and often paired with hooded cloaks, but he keeps his golds set aside until needed to keep them in good condition. He takes equal care of his shiny brass sackbut (it’s a horn, with a very funny name but an instrument nonetheless) so it always plays well.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Off-white and tan linens, loose and breathable for hot work in the kitchens, sleeves rolled up and pinned at the elbows to keep them from getting in the way. Always an apron about his waist, occasionally with food stains after a long day’s work but these he quickly tends to as soon as he’s able. He has nothing in the way of real finery but tries very hard to make sure what he has is clean and presentable.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Fine brocaded doublets of rich red and shining gold thread, as a duke and brother to a king, he does have to dress the part a bit. He wears more jewelry, especially rings, but nearly always still has his dire-wolf fur cloak over his shoulders. When called for executions, he dresses down quite a bit, in simple black cloth with only a leather pauldron over one shoulder to help brace the weight of his axe before he swings.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Half plate armor essentially at all times, even formal or polite occasions—he’s the owner of a stolen throne and all too aware that it could be stolen from him the same way he got it. His breastplate is scaled and his pauldrons are elaborately spiked, but it’s all black. The only pop of color on him is his crown, the same worn by Asgore and Undyne, gold and sharp, with rubies inlaid.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): Chain mail over a finely-made kaftan and beneath a traveling cloak, the latter two with signs of wear from a long journey. His head is notably absent of a crown—left behind in the kingdom he fled—but a new one awaits him soon, of flashing silver and blue stone, depicting the phases of the moon. When fully established in his new kingdom, he may begin dressing as a proper king again, draping himself in the blue and silver finery of the land that sheltered him.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): Browns, greens, and blacks, he wears light leather armor—really just a breastplate and vambraces—and a thick woolen cloak about his shoulders. He has no need of greaves for his shins, legs lost to an accident in the wilderness, but supplanted by magical prosthetics, living blackened wood provided by his land when he called upon it for aid. …Not that he’s fully accepted that it’s his land, keeping his crown of twisting copper and emerald tucked away in a saddlebag instead of on his brow. Maybe someday…

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): Rich purple and verdant green, amidst a sea of black—he favors very fine fabrics with open lacing at the chest. Still not especially fond of jewelry, but wears considerably more decorative leather braces on forearms, shins, and even the occasional full-chest corset. (He has some chronic pain and the extra pressure and support in certain spots helps.) He wears considerably more plain clothes for knight-training purposes and when traveling wears a black cloak with a cowl that comes down over the hole in his face at a point, as the beak of a raven.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate splint mail armor for his patrols along the wall, but favors rusty oranges, brown and black for the tunics and boots and breeches he wears out of it. Often carries a lantern, and always has tinder in a pouch on his hip. Beside his pouch is a war-horn in case an alert would need to be called, loud enough to make everyone come running if it’s ever sounded.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): A cavalierly styled courtier, at first having made do with graciously lent clothing and now being able to buy his own in a whole variety of rich colors—yellow, blue, magenta, and on. His aim is to look at home in court, which means he must dress as other courtiers do, so he has doublets and fine tunics and many, many fashionable capelets with embroidery and stylish pins, as well as a few equally chic plumed hats. The other courtiers look to him now for the latest fashion trends and he couldn’t be happier.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): A bit more subdued in style than his brother…though only a bit. He favors black frocks, almost as a cleric would wear, but beneath them, elegant doublets in greens and yellows as vibrant as anything his twin wears, with fine silver filigree work in his buckles and pins and clasps. He’s the pinnacle of restrained class and taste and it’s no wonder at all that the king should respect him so highly if his care in thought is as his care in appearance.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): Deep, dark black from head to toe, most prominently a long hooded cloak with two eye-lights glowing in the darkness. He always wears gloves and never lets his hood down, as he’s not especially fond of his metal bones and doesn’t really wish to be seen. It’s difficult to see in the daytime, but at night he’s trailed by faint wisps of ghostly light in all colors of the rainbow, such a strange sight that many a drunkard who’s seen him has poured out their bottle presuming they’d had quite a bit too much.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): Full plate armor, of course, but as he’s now some sort of spectral entity, it (and he!) glows and is slightly see-through. Being ghostly has washed out his colors quite thoroughly which is unfortunate—mostly all white with hints of silvery blue—but on the up-side he seems able to change his appearance some by will alone, donning or discarding his helmet at will, manifesting a majestic cape for himself out of the ether, and so on. It seems a fair enough trade to him!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): A man at court now, he’s donned an eye-patch and abandoned the trappings of prospective knighthood, fully embraced courtier fashion…if a bit ‘eccentrically.’ He favors bright yellows and spring greens, flowing garments of fine cloth layered beneath and over leather vambraces, gorget, and tasset. All these are elaborately, intricately designed and certainly make the similarly intricate gold jewelry (with multicolored gems) that he wears at wrist and neck stand out, but it’s hardly in fashion… Still, the mystic’s thinking is often inscrutable.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): Unlike his brother, very fashionable and eye-catching, in rich amaranths and brilliant turquoises, with even the occasional lavender. He has many fine embroidered doublets, threaded liberally with gold, and wears many pieces of gold jewelry as well—necklaces, bracelets, pins, and brooches. When showing the birds of the crown at court or bidding them on a royal hunt, he wears the livery of the crown-proper—royal purple and gold—and always has a thick leather falconer’s glove on his left hand.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): What’s black and white and red all over? Well, newspapers haven’t been invented yet, so it’s him, of course! He’s no jester so he hasn’t a motley to wear to work, but he is a performer and does dress in the livery of the king, which is red and black. The material is a bit finer than he’s used to, but being that he’s no longer wearing rags and rotting in a hole, he’s quite pleased with it and doesn’t mind the bright colors that help him attract the eyes of many comely nobles at court. Off-duty, he sticks to loose, somewhat open tunics—red still very much preferred.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): Laced linen shirts, not especially loosely fitting due to his largeness in the chest and shoulders but he hasn’t burst any seams in awhile so the measurements must be somewhat correct. He’s fond of white and a true connoisseur of red, all shades from dark to very light. He keeps an array of small carpentry tools—hammers, chisels, things for measuring—in a roll on his hip, a dedicated apprentice to the core.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): All black, pourpoint armor beneath fine silk doublets but almost disappointingly plain otherwise—no embroidery, no ornament, or stitched pattern, or brocade. Over this he wears a cloak, equally fine and with at least some ostentation, a bit of silver stitched decoration that matches the intimidatingly clawed silver gauntlet he wears upon his left hand—a symbol of his wealth, if not his status. These flashy items are for matters of court only, as he has a much more nondescript hooded cloak and less identifiable sharp implement which he uses for matters of stealth and misdeeds when it is important that he not be recognized.

Hunter (Swapfell Frution Papyrus): A prince in princely attire…mostly. He happily flaunts the color purple but proudly wears it with the black of his old family name, and drapes himself in silk tunics, fine (mostly decorative) pauldrons, capes and capelets. He tends to show off a bit more of his chest than seems appropriate for a man of his station, and seems to wear his elegant silver jewelry in ways such that the eye is drawn there, and…other places, but few question the whims of royalty. His pewter crown is heavy and inelegant and he’s talked much with his brother about how angry people would be if he had it melted and recast into something more stylish.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): Plain, rough tunics, in black and dark brown. He wears a heavy fur-lined gabardine as it gets quite cold in the dungeons, though it’s uncertain where he managed to get such a nice garment. He keeps a knife on his belt, large and jagged-toothed, and though he hasn’t had need to use it yet, the threat of it tends to keep most prisoners from attempting to bring him harm.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): He’s traded in his full plate armor for a comfortably fit leather jerkin, accompanied by matching gauntlets to protect his hands and torso (inasmuch as they need protection, without flesh) from the thorns he trims back every day. He mostly wears black and white and brown, all things closely fit to his body, less they snag overmuch and need to be replaced too often. His clothing is simple but well-suited to his work, and he wears it nicely.

[utilitycaster]

I wasn’t around the fandom back in C2, but I know some people didn’t like that the Nein kind of ignored the war and didn’t follow that thread Matt laid out. Was this a widespread enough critique of the campaign to where it would possibly be influencing the players to follow Matt’s premise and threads more here, despite playing ill suited characters? Not looking for this as justification for this campaign's problems, to be clear, just kind of reaching for an explanation for the timidity here. I feel like I’m watching players be too polite to say "actually, we just really don't care if the gods are here or not" but not wanting to harsh Matt's story concept.

Hi anon,

This is a good question, and I think the answer is ultimately "I don't know", but I do want to take you through my thought process which I hope is helpful. The short answer is, however, that while this is interesting to speculate on (this is a good post doing so) I don't ultimately need to know. External factors can influence a work, clearly, but I think that needs to be taken on a case-by-case basis and in this case, an explanation for the timidity doesn't really address that I don't care for it.

Firstly: I think the fandom's influence on player choices is probably overstated. I think that fan influence was something of a concern in Campaign 1, when the fandom was much smaller, the cast was much more hands-on, and, for example, for a lot of the earlier episodes the chat was literally on the YouTube videos so if they went to rewatch their own work they'd see that. Matt used to drop into the Reddit. People who were fans in 2015 and early 2016 would email or DM cast or crew and get direct messages. That's really no longer the case, and hasn't been for a very long time.

I can't speak to the fandom at large's feelings on the war plot in Campaign 2 while it was actually airing. I have seen it brought up a lot by Campaign 2 detractors after the fact, but I don't do Reddit or Twitter and during Campaign 2 I didn't really go into the main tag much until fairly late. Personally, I feel a lot of people lean on the "they didn't follow the war plot" only because Matt revealed in the wrap-up that he had something planned for the Augen Trust, but there was absolutely no way for the cast to know it. Additionally, I think my feeling about this is "their avoidance was a very clear decision that was true to their characters." When the party first leaves Zadash, it is specifically because they are low-level and explicitly want to get out of town before the war leads to heightened security. Nott is at the time a goblin and not treated as a citizen of the Empire. Molly, Yasha, Fjord, and Jester aren't imperial citizens either. Beau hates authority, and Caleb has extremely good reasons (having just seen Trent) to get as far away from anything relating to the Empire's government. After their mission to Shady Creek run, they are grieving and decide to go someplace where a few of them feel at home, and also pursue the note from Avantika they found. They avoid the war because it makes perfect sense for that group of characters to do; and then they eventually go to Xhorhas and see the war from the other perspective! They don't even avoid it; they just engage in a way that is very different from how Matt originally envisioned, and is, again, very true to their characters (Nott wanting to save Yeza; Caleb wanting to avoid imprisonment and being willing to hand over the beacon to do so). The Mighty Nein very much followed available plot hooks at every turn; they might have been different plot hooks than some people wanted, but they were very much making choices based on who they were as characters at each juncture.

I also think that the characters leaning into "we don't really care" early on would have actually been a great move and one Matt could adapt to. I think that might have actually led to him trying to, for example, encourage a focus on either "Predathos is an existential threat that is leading Ludinus to commit multiple atrocities, and killing him will still leave the temptation intact for another Ludinus to arise"; or "well, how about we give you time to explore your own pasts and your own homes and get perspectives from the common people of Exandria and then decide from a humanist perspective". The problem isn't that they may or may not release Predathos or may or may not destroy the gods; it's that their motivations are at best either solipsistic or barely existent and so it's hard to care about anything because the party feels dragged along by a plot they don't care about. They're not even choosing the plot actively; they're just sort of shuffling slowly forward through it.

Now, here's my opinion: I think that even if the fandom were critical of Campaign 2 (and while some people are, it is openly and widely beloved, and I think the cast are familiar with the idea that you cannot make everyone happy), I don't think listening to the fandom is necessarily correct. I think that, in fact, listening too much to the fandom and trying to please whoever is loudest or most unpleasant or threatening or flattering or worse still, multiple of these groups, will nearly always make your art weak.

There's choices where I think the context of said choice is important: I'm a little softer now on the party not having time to mourn FCG in-game than I was at the time because I can understand feeling really bad about and uncomfortable with, essentially, holding a memorial for a character played by your friend currently in cancer treatment. I understand why it happened. I do not blame the cast for making that choice. I do think, however, it does make a weaker story. I would not walk up to Matt Mercer and say "this sucked and you shouldn't have done this" but just because there's a good external reason doesn't mean it was necessarily executed well in game. This may sound cold to some. I don't particularly care; I'm writing this about how criticism from random strangers means very little to me.

I feel very strongly that you should not play to your haters. This comes up a lot when we talk about the misogynistic death threats that Marisha received, and for what it's worth I think Marisha has at all times handled this well and any criticism I have of her characters isn't related to her being overly timid. I really do, as a woman myself, understand that one's safety is paramount, and I would never demand an artist put themselves at risk (though many choose to, and often that work is excellent). But *Dessa Fire Drills voice* that's not, in my opinion, a way to live. It's a delicate and exhausting balance but avoiding making bold moves because the worst fucking guy on the internet will call you a slur is letting him win and he'll call you the slur anyway.

Maybe this isn't a great way to be, and I was not born this way so much as found it through some rough experiences when I was younger, but if someone's never going to be happy with you, or even if their idea of what is acceptable is so vanishingly narrow that you will have to fold yourself up to fit into it, don't you want to 1. focus then on making yourself happy and 2. not worry about pissing them off and indeed maybe even court it a little so long as it doesn't conflict with what you would want if they were out of the picture?

So I don't want to say there's no explanation ever that will make me feel a little more understanding; but "this work isn't great because of external factors beyond the creators' control" doesn't fix the fact that the work isn't great. It's not their fault in that case! But like...you know the college myth of "if your roommate dies you get straight As for the semester"? It's untrue there and it's untrue here. I will be more sympathetic to the artist; but the art still isn't good and I'm not going to pretend like it is.

[deceit-and-knowledge]

(That’s it jester I’m taking your crk Dreamweaver luck when they get brought over.)

**knocked away by sage finally breaking, more feathers gone, many of them flight feathers. A wing is bleeding, it’ll be a while before they can fly in this form again** FOUNT!!! FOUNT PLEASE HOLD ON!! **tries to get closer again, they can’t lose someone else. They can’t they cant ctheycanttheycant nononononono** — bird anon

ooc: AH HEY-

Sage's corruption

The being doesn't care, it's compassion gone.

It's many eyes look at you, mocking you. You're nothing but meat to it.

It probably doesn't even think your real. You could be another illusion to make it's broken heart and soul, it's broken mind to hold onto a singular thread of guilt.

A monster shouldn't feel guilt and he? He's a monster.

[bansheebah]

Hello and welcome to our ( @archangelscoven ) Build A Headmate blog! It'll mostly be BAH stuff but also maybe some other things slightly related probably. On that note, some about Banshee, the one who decided to make this and was the one doing anything on here until other alters joined in when Banshee left front for the first time.

The alter who originally started this goes by Banshee, as the blog name suggests, though has got multiple names (Banshee/Corvidae/Jester/Kuromi/Sableye/Trickster). Banshee uses she/they + many neopronouns she chose not to list here for now due to how many there are, fem/neu terms.

Collectively however when Banshee is not in front, if not specified who is, default to he/him or any pronouns both english and russian, and mostly masc referral for the collective whole but anything goes really, someone will say if otherwise so dw too much.

Banshee was inspired to make a BAH blog by one that helped them fully form, @buildabuddy (hope you don't mind the tag), so thank you to her. Some of the rest of us began picking it up later on.

Post edited frequently by various alters to be up to date. Finally not just in Banshee's perspective only aaah.

Sourcelist (will do/won't do/etc)

Tag Guide

#☆ banshee screams!! - alter packs by Banshee (now unused, see below)

#☆ banshee hums!! - talking posts by Banshee (now unused, see below)

#☆ threaded needle!! - alter packs by Syringe (now unused, see below)

#☆ torn paper!! - talking posts by Syringe (now unused, see below)

#☆ angel packs!! - alter packs

#☆ coven chat!! - talking posts

#☆ archive room!! - bah packs we didn't make or request (usually) but wanted to archive here for any reason, also cool BAH blogs we specifically wanna share here

Not everyone in the system will do packs probably, but those that do will say who they are if they remember to and it's not forgotten later.

Claimed Anons:

🛰️🪦

Current WIP Alter Packs (see current focus here)

Self Indulgent: Hvitur (WoF)

Requested: Kris Dreemur

Ask Game: 🦴 - make a pack based on your favorite character, 🦖 - make a pack based on your favorite song, 🥀 - make a pack based on a character you usually wouldn't do

Existing userboxes(?) for headmates so far:

decor credits: 1 2 3

[deceit-and-doubt]

"Ermm..." the angel shuffled a bit ashamed on his feet. "Y-yes... I'm sorry-" He finally reveals Puppy, holding him gently. The bunny safe and sound.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice until I returned him." He admitted.

"But WHY did you smash the window if you also live here?" Recluse asked confused.

Pure Vanila suddenly and cartoonishly held a brick in his other hand, and tossed it aside embarrassed. "I forgot my keys..."

"Ugh. You're both dumbasses." The Recluse gumshoe shook his head. "I thought you had accidentally destroyed him and tried to make a new Puppy. Concerning all the materials you've bought."

The angel gasped. "Oh, no! I'd never..! I just needed him for... A project..."

Pure Vanilla finally shoved them the work desk behind him. A goddamn mess. Wasted fabric and lots of cut-off access thread everywhere. But in the middle was... a new bunny. Halfway made. Ears askew and in different lengths. Uneven stitching, and pieces not quite fitting together. "Puppy always seemed to bring you a lot of comfort, my love, and helps calm you down... Sage has been struggling so much lately that I thought maybe giving him a little bunny would help him too? A friend, brother or maybe a boyfriend for Puppy? I haven't decided... But... I'm not that good at it. I had to buy more because I ran out of fabric..."

He looked sad at his little failed project. - Umbrella Anon

( Ooc: Sadly that spin the bottle part was just a random fever dream moment- Sorry Jester c': but perhaps he'll return in another dream? ;3 )

ooc: okie dokie 😈 (besides I just need smilk to not be able to look at all 3 of them normally 🤭🤭 it'll be funny)

"...so..you stole puppy, broke into our house, , worry me sick, make me a fool! all to help sage..?? I'm not sure if I should feel happy, pissed off, upset I wasted this detective's time, upset I wasted my own time or jealous.." shadow milk growls. Crossing his arms and glaring down the thief.

[spade-the-clown]

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

Привет, друзья, и добро пожаловать на шоу!

[Hello, my friends, and welcome to the show!]

My name is Spade, like the suit, and I am pleased to invite you to Baron Skinner's Bazzar!

My pronouns are He/It, and I'd love to have yours :)

If you have any questions, please do not be afraid to share :) If you ask the right ones, you may find yourself speaking with some of our other performers! If you wish to speak with someone specifically, please make it known, and I will be glad to get them for you.

I have a tendency to give my new friends nicknames, though often in my mother-tongue~! This is for your safety.

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🃏⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🃏

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🃏⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🃏

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♥️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♥️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♥️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♥️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♣️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♣️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♣️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♣️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♦️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♦️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♦️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♦️

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

ooc: m!anons are not only welcome but heavily encouraged!

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

Tags Map! [updated regularly!] — most emoji-tags will be put on the last post in the thread in attempts to keep the search as clean as possible!

#bazaar.lore -- Any post that has to do with Baron Skinner's Bazaar! [each performer will have their own lore tag as well, im just trying to clean this section up]

#[insert character name here].art -- i.e 'spade.art' 'jester.art', tag for when I draw characters!

#🎭your name?🎭 -- For starting asks! So if it's a brand new interaction w another account, this is the tag!

#🎟esteemed guest🎟 -- For returning accounts! This may also be used in combo with #👤the show must go on👤

#🎪guest performer🎪 -- For posts involved during performances where another account is one our performers!

#🎭come one come all🎭 -- For posts where multiple members of the Bazaar are active!

#👤the show must go on👤 -- For any posts happening at/in the Bazaar!

#🎟️gathering the audience🎟️ -- For performers giving out tickets!

#🃏double trouble🃏 -- For posts including either Jester or Joker

#♠️i'm gonna win♠️ -- For posts including Spade

#♥️blood and bones♥️ -- For posts including Heart

#♣️craving an excuse♣️ -- For posts including Club

#♦️always an angel♦️ -- For posts including Diamond

#🎤welcome to the stage!🎤 -- For a performers first appearance!

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

//Mod speaks very little russian, but it will pop up in rps w the performers often! Typically only a few words here and there + translations!

// Performers [generally] will refer to artifacts as “trinkets”, mainly as the word ‘artifacts’ doesn’t have any meaning for them!

//As stated above, the performers nickname other characters, however the name rule doesn't apply to other Strangers. The reasoning will make sense as the story progresses :]

// A quick note! Despite the verbiage used by some performers, all of the characters of this blog are adults!

🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

More organizational info below the cut!

So, I have some relatively large plans for Spade + his siblings, and Baron Skinner's Bazaar, and I want to make an easy way to navigate this page beyond just the tags! I will be doing such by creating link-texts to the rps, from the last post in the thread, for ease of consumption!

That being said, I'm going to do my best to seperate posts by the following — Meetings/Interactions with others — Performances at the Bazaar — and — Performer Lore.

For the former, I will be listing the other accounts as Spades nickname for the character followed with the translation for the nickname in brackets! [Reason being for these nicknames is that a name is very important to the Bazaar, and Spade gives characters nicknames to keep them safe!]

Performances will be added with whatever the circus act/performance is called, and linked to below.

Performer lore is going to be the bottom-most section and the least relative to the performances themselves. They are not necessary to read to understand the events, but if you'd like to know more about each individual performer, that's where to go!

Alright, so on the colours thing, I will be assigning different colours to different performers at the Bazaar!

Spade will not type in it, though if any performers refer to him, his colour is purple.

The J Twins, Jester [She/It] and Joker [He/It], will type in and be referred to with pink and green respectively. The twins will typically refer to/about one another as Jes and Jo!

Heart writes in and will be referred to with red text [It/She]

Diamond writes in and will be referred to with blue text [They/She/It]

Club writes in and will be referred to with orange text. [She/It]

There are other performers, however due to limited colour options they will use emojis and that will get mapped out when needed!

♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟 Meetings! 🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

Getting help from кружащиеся тени —— [swirling shadows]

Inviting хранитель безделушек —— [trinket keeper]

Two new friends, живой шторм & горгонa —— [live storm] [gorgon]

A Name Given, Yet Not Taken. Господин —— [Mister]

And two to join, кроэтт & Мисс Распад —— [little crow] [miss decay]

An Article! —— корреспондент [correspondent]

Friends outside of our fear? предвестник & безграничный -- [harbinger] [limitless]

Ace's Invite!

♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟 Performances! 🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

[empty for the time being]

♠️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎟 Performer Lore! 🎟️⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♠️

A Set of Confrontations

[alexandraisyes]

part of me wants to join the main tsams server if only to see your many threads and rambles about character analysis

but

the server also scares me, and sounds overwhelming

so i don’t join lol

shame on missing out on your musings tho- cuz i think they’re pretty neat

You could always join my personal FNAF/TSAMS/DCA server! I have a channel (I need to update it badly but I’ll do that soon now that it’s on my mind) where I repost my analyses and conversations from TSBS server for some of my friends who also aren’t in the server. I’ll probably catch it up to date later this week (not rn I’m so sleepy). I used to update my yapping from the thread on Tumblr too and maybe I should start doing that again.

We have a really cool, really chill community with people who enjoy all different sides of the fandom, and some who are just there for the DCA/FNAF and not TSAMS at all! It’s prioritized as a FNAF server, but DCA is a subset of that, and TSAMS is an even smaller subset of THAT. And most of us are there for the silly YouTube jesters anyways.

I know the link is in my pinned but you can have it here too.

And ough lemme just add the “update the peepaw channel with peepaw content” on my todo list for this week

Also also! People are always welcome to send me asks about the lore and my thoughts here too! Just know that I am chronically unwell (tm) and tend to take 1-2 week breaks from the lore at a time so I’m not always fully caught up! Also I made a joke earlier about “I’m not TSAMS confessions blog” however- that random ass confession I got about ruin and foxy was hilarious (and I support that anon with my SOUL) so if you have show “confessions” pls pls pls I could use some joy.

[selfship-confession-box]

learned the one of the people who somewhat made fun of me for having a particular character as a parental f/o also has a ship kid with another character in canon

pick a damn side am I stupid for having him as a dad or not

-🃏🧵

.

[prpfz]

🤡

clown/jester fans come at me! i'm 21+ with a discord writing preference who has been reading a horror anthology called "fear of clowns" and boy does it slap! looking to write my jester clown oc who is a 70s children's show host who manifests on a cursed vhs tape against your ocs for some dark and horror themed threads- or anything to do with horror clowns in general tbh. there was a great short story set in space that slapped. the world is our oyster. anyway, hit me up if you're interested and i'll shoot you a message for my discord!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[hellishlyclean]

Tags just ignore

[utilitycaster]

honestly, the burgeoning ruidus plot really took the wind right out of the c3 characters' sails with respect to inter-party character development

and this has affected ships too. like, i'm sure given enough time and space, imogen and laudna's relationship could have been something more rather than the fluff we have now and same might even apply to other characters

wishful thinking, but i hope post-c3, whatever campaigns we get are a little more grounded and focused on exploring exandria, feel like there hasn't been enough of that

Hey anon,

I've said as much but while I agree that the structure of this campaign has worked against the party relationships, I think the issues I see with that particular relationship are tied to character creation and lack of discussion out of game because again, shorter and more tightly plotted campaigns and mini-series achieve more developed romances all the time.

I am also to be honest a little frustrated for two reasons. The first is that it felt like when I criticized the pacing of the campaign earlier on the broad response was "GIVE IT TIME" and "ugh not everything will be C2" and now, when I have made my peace with that and am enjoying what quieter moments we get and focusing on what this campaign is bringing (lore, culmination of longstanding plot) there is infinite whining about how this silly plot [the entire fucking point of this campaign] is getting in the way of characters talking. Like, we have actually had a number of good conversations and quieter scenes although I think it's been hard to get anything romantic; the back half of latest episode was a good example that allowed for those deeper conversations, and it's one of several openings lately, and like. If the players are feeling rushed and talked over, while they cannot stop the plot they are allowed to say that and say "hey we REALLY need a breather episode."

The second is that again I don't really get why people come in to try to give me the like...reasonable, moderate opinion, or defend a bad take on anon, because I tend to be very unwelcoming to it.

I do, fundamentally, think Imogen and Laudna's relationship is so weak because the players either didn't prep the backstory enough or are not conveying it, and I suspect it's the former. I gave multiple examples of miniseries or other character relationships; like, again to bring up C2 but the three pre-existing groups within that, of which two were really acquaintances (Fjord and Jester had only known each other a few weeks; Veth and Caleb were dependent on each other but had also only been together a few months and really knew very little about each other) felt more realized from episode 1. The Ring of Brass, the Circle of Needle and Thread, the family of stoats in the current D20 season or the Rocks family in A Crown of Candy, honestly the restaurateurs in the Elder Scrolls Blackwood three-shot are all groups that came in and made their relationships crystal clear and full within the first 4 hours of gameplay if not sooner; none of these groups were afforded more than a fraction of the hundreds of hours Imogen and Laudna have had, plot-heavy though those hours might be. If Imogen and Laudna had been recent roommates in Jrusar, then I think it would be fair to blame the pace of the plot at least in part in the lack of development of their relationship, but the fact is this is an exceptionally weak grounding that should have been in place before the first episode even began, and which could have been fixed after the fact by again, like two hours of intense discussion in a coffee shop. The campaign structure isn't helping; but it's not, in my opinion, the cause.

[deceit-and-knowledge]

( yee..! I wanted to tie up the interaction with Truthless, Sage, Chiky and Shadowmilk neatly before mobing on to the next plot point- sorry for the wait..! c': )

Oh..! Healer Cookie?

*anon curiously takes a look at the new cookie, instantly noticing the similarities, but also the cookie's shyness and hiding their eye.*

Ah, then- Welcome to the Vanilla Kingdom, Dr. Healer Cookie..! I hope you will eventually feel safe and at home here..! Saint Pure Vanilla is one of the Kingdom's best healers, but there are of course always room for more..! And even healers need healers.

And yes..! I'm a recent addition. At least for now temporary visitor, but... Who knows..?

This place does seem like a sort of nexus for lost souls... hmm... - Umbrella Anon

( ooc: Not sure if you're planning on only having Healer Cookie without a shadow milk counterpart, Jester. But I had a small idea if you're interested. Perhaps a fount of knowledge who is in the middle of the maddening change? The edges of their mind flayed, major trust issues and paranoia, but fighting and struggling to hold onto the last threads of their sanity? Not quite yet Shadow Milk, but a far cry from the sweet Sage of Truth they used to be? Their hair resembling more that of the statue at the milk fountain, divided into two big points, rarher than the flowy starry sky hair? )

ooc: I was actually thinking something like that but make if his light of truth

h: I've actually lived here for a few months now in the village.. *trying to heal himself but it's hard given his ailment, but due to shyness he's awkwardly swaying and fidgeting*

It is nice to...see...new faces in the kingdom however!

I normally assist the villagers with much smaller heals...

[heartfullofleeches]

What if jester!reader made a little doll of the emperor for his birthday? It's not perfect, it has some spots where the ink has spilled a little and the doll's clothes are a little too big, but it's the thought that counts right?? I just know their spouse is gonna get MAD

(Edit: fuck- I missed the part where you said a doll of the emperor. Im sorry about that anon!)

"Ouch!" The needle pricks your finger as it pokes out of the fabric, adding to tens of a small wounds on your sore finger. You bite the thread with your teeth, breaking its excess string from the doll. With the final stitch in place, you hold up the little pierrot to examine your craftsmanship.

It was obvious that this was your first time making a doll, and that you had no talent in the craft at all. Its little cone hat drooped down the back of its head, red collar a few sizes too big and cotton balls on its shirt unlined. Its red lips had dripped down its face into a tiny smile, and one of black dots for its eyes looked a tear had fallen. You didn't have the tools to make a proper porcelain face as the original, so you had to improvise.

"GET THE HELL OUT!"

The thought still causes you to tense up. You had walked in on the emperor and his spouse shouting; the commotion waking you from slumber. They held a little pierrot doll in hand, the first gift that you gave your friend on his birthday. As you enter the room, they had tossed the poor thing into the fire. You had never heard such a guttural roar or anguish from him as he fell to his knees, reaching into the flames to retrieve it, but it being too late to savage the flammable figure.

He didn't even seem to mind the burns on his hands as he yelled for them to leave. You quickly rushed over and wrapped his blistering hands with tatters from your shirt. He was numb, barely noticing your presence or as you pulled him to his feet and to the medical ward. It's where he had been for the past few days, refusing to see even you when you went to visit.

Acting fast, you asked around the castle for supplies and knowledge on how to make another. The store you had bought it from had been closed for years. You spent the following days making a doll similar to it, in hopes that he'd find peace somewhere within.

As luck would have it, today was the day he returned to his duties. The emperor eyes the door to his study as it creaks open. He returns his attention to the desk and scribbles away on the papers before him.

"What do you want, Y/n?"

He hears you crawling across the floor before there's a bump by the leg of the desk. He sighs.

"Y/n."

The makeshift pierrot climbs atop the desk with its little arms and the help of an unseen, but giggling party. It plops down on the surface, head sagging from the weight of its hat.

"Y/n? Who's that? It's me, Peirce."

He can easily recognize your voice no matter how high you make it. He glances up at the doll, his lips already forming a smile. "What on earth is that thing?"

"I'm not a thing! I'm Peirce, your second closest friend. I've returned from war and misses you greatly, dear friend."

With your laughter being too much to continue the voice, you stand up, holding the doll out to him. "I noticed how upset you were when you lost the real Peirce, so I tried to make you a new one."

The emperor stares at the doll. His face feels as hot the fires that took the first Peirce away; both from embrassment and being flustered by the gesture. He never meant to make you feel bad when he sent you away. He felt ashamed of himself for letting the first gift you gave him die in such a horrible way.

"I... thank you, Y/n. You truly are the greatest.. friend I've ever had."

You smile, holding the pierrot in front of your face as you raise your pitch again. "So stop being sad and make up with your spouse. All hatchets are buried on my end."

You drop it once more. "I'm sure it was just a heat of the moment thing and that they didn't mean to throw him in the fire."

You couldn't tell by the look on his face, but the emperor had nothing but hatred brewing for his spouse to be. Peirce's demise was not an accident. He was killed by nothing more than the jealous that monster had for his bond with you. If his room wasn't locked, then would have gotten rid of the rest. Starting with the little jester by his pillow. He never wanted to see them again, but would do it - for you.

"Of course. Thank you again, Y/n."

You grin. "No problem! You love each other afterall. I think one of the things laughter is hard fix with is a broken heart. I'll leave you to your work now."

Oh you don't know how wrong you were. Love- that witch? The only one his stone cold heart had yearn for was you - the silly jester of his court. He already gave you his all, but would do even more to make his feelings known now that at least he didn't have his family to worry about; not caring what anyone else thought.

The emperor abandons his duties to put his newest doll away from harm for the day. He places it on his bed, right next to the miniature version of you. It was a gift for you, but one he stole as it was too precious to part from; and he had given you plenty more. The differences in quality are numerous between the pair, but the one made by you was his new prized possession.

He allows his spouse to return to the castle the day after. They foolishly think they've begun to win him over, but as they see the little pierrot sticking from his pocket, they realize they won't win his love as long as you're alive.