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blade-liger-4ever · 11 months ago

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The Problem with Mara Jade, and Why She Doesn't Work

A Mara Jade dissection? From me?

More likely than you think!

Now make no mistake, I know exactly what kind of fanatic waters I'm treading. After all, it's no secret that the Star Wars fandom simply adores anything that Mara does, and people have been clamoring for her "long awaited" return to the Star Wars Canon since she was cast off along with the rest of the crew when the Mouse took over Lucasfilm. However, I have had many thoughts in direct opposition to Mara's worshiping fans, and now that I've finally had enough of both Mara's escape from her actions and attitude, as well as having snapped after suffering the ignorance of those who praise her to the heavens, I'm at long last going to tear down this character and explain in detail not only why she makes no sense in universe, but why she should have never been introduced the way Zahn introduced her in his trilogy featuring Thrawn.

Buckle up, 'cause I am not holding back on the fandom's darling girl.

Problem One: She never suffers in her upbringing

It's explained by everyone in Legends and the fandom that Mara Jade was taken in from a young age to be the infamous "Emperor's Hand" and raised to kill his enemies without remorse and blindly follow his orders. They all say the training is rigorous, and that she was spared no shortage of training in combat, espionage, and whatnot, and I will admit, her skills prove it. But you know what the flaw with this logic is?

Mara is not once shown to have any trauma, pain, or even physical scars from the training.

Don't believe me? Just look at her trading cards which, for added benefit, had a professional "head-turning beauty" model pose for her. She's a shiny, pristine woman in those pictures with no sign of the abuse she logically would have suffered during her training.

"Blade, why are you harping on logic? This is Star Wars, where there are space wizards and jetpacks and intergalatic travel. Logic doesn't have a place here."

I keep "harping" on logic because for the suspension of disbelief to properly work, there needs to be logic for things to work in a story. Take Galen Marek, a fellow Legends character, for example. He was raised by Darth Vader to be a relentless, unstoppable assassin - and his body is covered with scars, and most importantly, it takes Galen two thirds of the game to break free of his loyalty to Vader and see that he's been nothing but a means to an end to his master. By contrast, Mara doesn't suffer nearly as much, nor does she even, truly, break out of Palpatine's hold, even in the globally praised Thrawn Trilogy.

Which brings me to Mara's next problem.

Problem two: She never truly rejects the Dark Side, or her role as the Emperor's Hand

Now before you jump on me, let me say this: I recall her killing Luke's clone and "freeing" herself of the final command Palpatine lodged into her brain. However, if given the option, I still believe Mara would have killed Luke simply because she had no real reason to not kill him.

Oh yes, she kept finding "convenient excuses" to keep him alive, but those are points of plot armor. Anyone else in her place - like fellow Emperor's Hand Shira Brie - wouldn't have hesitated to shoot Luke's head off, or stabbed him through the heart with a lightsaber. The only reasons she didn't were because Zahn wanted Luke to have an enemies-to-lovers dynamic, and the writing world has never recovered since he glamorized that trope. Furthermore, despite the fact that Mara has a conniption over being lied to and manipulated into thinking she was the only Emperor's Hand by Palpatine, she does not do so with a realization that she was doing the wrong things for the Emperor. No, she only sees that she was used as a means to an end, and her fury is not all that different from Maul's rage when we see the former Sith Apprentice again in The Clone Wars - which, logically, points to the fact that Mara had a thirst for power, something that Legends actually confirms.

Don't believe me? Pull up her Wookieepedia file. It explicitly states in her bio that in her early career, she pratically dreamed of killing Vader and taking his place as Palpatine's apprentice. It's even said she revels in the Dark Side and her mission as Palpatine's Hand. Furthermore, she does not even express remorse for her actions, or even attempts to make amends by sharing her knowledge of Imperial Intelligence with Republic Intelligence. Compare her to Black Widow: when Natasha Romanov switched her allegiances, not only did she reject her past and even her nationality, she joined SHIELD to atone for her actions.

What does Mara do? Get Anakin's lightsaber handed to her by his own son after she tried to kill him repeatedly, and simply departs to "find her own path."

No honey, you don't get a consolation prize for choosing practicality in that moment with Luke's clone, and you certainly don't get to traipse around the galaxy free of consequences of your actions without at least giving vital information to the Republic.

"Oh, but she'll suffer from the memory of what she's done, Blade!"

Really? There is no reason for that woman to have a conscience, and the fact that everyone tries to hammer that into me points me to the next issue.

Problem three: Mara Jade is given a conscience with no substantial basis for it

Allow me to bring to light the history of a former assassin I love dearly for what she suffered to explain Mara's struggle here: X23/Laura Kinney of Marvel fame.

Literally born into a branch of the Weapon X project, Laura's life revolved around nothing but training, emotional distance, cold-blooded torture, and killing on orders from the highest bidder - and she made her first targeted kill at age nine. Because of that, she emotionally shut herself down.

Why do I have no issue with Laura's response to her first kill? Because she had two people who went against the Facility's status quo and fed her scraps of kindness, warmth, and love.

And for that, Laura was mind-controlled into killing them both as "poetic justice".

The first one she had killed via a "trigger scent" that was engineered to send her into a blind rage was used on her teacher, Tanaka. When she awoke from it, she was horrified to find her "sensei" lying dead in a pool of blood, her own claws coated in his blood. After this, she was given Kimura as a trainer/handler, and the woman took every opportunity to abuse and torture her - all in the name of "making her strong". This, coupled with her mother having to back off on showing her love, made Laura suppress her emotions, and deal with them by cutting herself with her own claws. Her mother, Sarah Kinney, didn't realize until later that the scars (I cannot recall if they healed or not) were Laura's own doing and not Kimura's.

Laura was used by many to kill hundreds, and Sarah eventually gave up hope that there was a little girl left in the assassin.

That changed, however, when Laura found a young boy listed as a target on her assignment. She knew that if she left him alive, she'd be faced with more punishments, torture, and abuse. She knew that, and she must have been terrified for her life.

But Laura, having been shown compassion and love at different points, was able to see a bit of that same fear in the boy.

And despite knowing full well what was in store for her, Laura let. Him. Live.

Sarah orchestrated her and Laura's escape after this, and had Laura undertake one last mission to kill the personnel at the Facility and the new clones of Laura that were being grown. However, Laura's main abuser had a last laugh by getting some of the trigger scent on Sarah, and even though they were both free, Sarah paid with her life at Laura's hands.

To this day in the comics, Laura waking to see her dying mother and her claws sticky with her blood, is one of her most traumatic and devastating memories.

I bring this up, patient readers, to point out the severe flaw in Mara's creation. She was taken in at three years old to be raised in the heart of evil, and yet she's somehow the only Emperor's Hand to have a conscience. Three years old is not the proper age to have a total recall of what morality is, especially when you're being trained to kill with abandon and to not care about taking a life. More to the point, Laura had two people who gave her morals and humanity. Mara, by contrast, had no one: no nanny or diaper-changing droid was mentioned in order to credit where she got her moral compass from, which flies directly against Galen's turn from the Dark Side. Because even Galen had PROXY to thank for being remotely approachable at the beginning of The Force Unleashed. If you don't believe me, check out his Wookieepedia file; the droid is expressly stated to be the reason he has any compassion at all.

Mara has no reason for having a moral compass, and anyone who tells me otherwise should go dunk their head in a frigid cold lake.

Problem four: Mara has too much autonomy for a born and bred assassin

Remember what I was going on about with Laura? Beyond the surface of what I scratched, she never got a break or any rewards for a job well done. That is because no one viewed her as anything more than a tool to get things done. Among the underworld, she was a favorite weapon, but because of that favoritism, Laura was worked to the bone by people around her. When you're a tool, favorite or otherwise, you don't get breaks.

But according to the almighty Timothy Zahn and countless others in Star Wars, Mara got to take vacations because the Emperor favored her so much. And furthermore, she had such an advanced favoritism with him, and was such a spectacularly good agent, she could choose who to kill and who to hide from the Emperor without him being the wiser. Mara even had the nerve to think of and enjoy herself as a "law unto herself" while still being under Palpatine's thumb.

Bullcrap.

Fellow assassin Galen never had breaks, child assassin Laura Kinney never had breaks, international spy Natasha Romanov never had breaks. They never had breaks because they were TOOLS. Tools, in the eyes of their masters, are nothing but instruments to be used or thrown away as seen fit, regardless if said "tool" is a handheld object or an entire company of soldiers. Assassins have this even worse because they are people exclusively used for your personal gain. Giving Mara Jade breaks from her work is inane and breaks the logic of having an assassin turn over a new leaf. And the reason for that is because all the other examples I named worked their fannies off in order to make amends and actively choose to become better. Even though we got little with Galen atoning for his actions, he still tried his best.

Mara doesn't do anything to atone, apologize, or even make up for the things she did. She lived and died in Legends continuity as a selfish brat who got away with literal murder and never had anyone question why they had her there on their side when there was never a guarantee beyond Luke's out-of-character defense of her by saying she "no longer serves the Dark Side/the Emperor".

Luke, my guy, my childhood hero second only to Optimus Prime. You know better than this. Yes, you see the good in everyone, but there was never anything she did right for purely right reasons to have garnered that level of loyalty and devotion from you. She tried to kill you, wanted to take your father's place in Palpatine's grand scheme, and was frightfully close to killing you in the third movie of the Original Trilogy while laughing as you fell into the sarlacc pit. The fact that this all goes on, and no one in or out of universe makes her pay for her actions tells me she was just everyone's darling OC insert girlfriend for Luke, who they could do anything with, and people would and did accept it because they wanted Luke to have a "hot bad girl wife".

Luke is the pinnacle of goodness in Star Wars. A pinnacle of goodness deserves someone who is just as good for almost the exact same reasons as the pinnacle, but able to back him up in his saving endeavors while being a shoulder for him when there was one lost soul he couldn't save.

Mara Jade has none of that, and she never showed anyone that level of care and attention. And if she did, it did not make sense with all the crap she got away with.

Conclusion

Well, there's not much I suppose to conclude this. I expressed why Mara doesn't work in excruciating detail, and why she didn't work in the end. I will go out on a limb and say that my distaste for her is clear, as well as my opinion that she should not have won Luke's hand when he had many other love interests (look it up. Trust me, he had many girls eyeing him, and had many dates in Legends.)

I will, however, say this much: In my Star Wars Canon, Luke marries Alex Winger, the only girl in Star Wars who I feel matches his personality and needs well. Ben Skywalker will not exist in it, unless I make him the oldest or youngest of Luke and Alex's kids, which is entirely possible now that I consider that option. And it may surprise you, but I do intend to bring Mara into my stories - as a true villain, though she may get a redemption before dying in my own take.

Regarding any hate I receive for both my tear down of Mara and my changed plans for my own Star Wars Canon, I will tell you this: I am one person with these thoughts and feelings, so far as I can see, whereas the much adored Mara Jade has hundreds of appearances in old Star Wars media and various fanfictions. If you can't tolerate my dislike for Mara, then go suck your thumb while reading Legends books involving her. It's not worth either of our time to fight over that blasted female, and I've got too much on my table to bother wasting my free time arguing over her.

Good day, and may the Force be with you.

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dreamerswriter · 1 year ago

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Goodbye! (For Now....)

Why is it always my dorm? Again, Yuu wasn't here, so I assume we got an update on our phone and now this happened again. What kind of power does our phone have?

You hid a body.

Sure, but you two would've gotten Idia out of his room.

............ I feel so bad for Deuce.

Aw, that's so sweet. It would've been better if Zoom Kalim was crying too.

....... I come from the future. This will backfire hugely.

................... Sure.

Man, Deuce cannot catch a break at all.

I love Ortho so much. He could open his blaster and still look cute. Kind of like Poppi! Oh, no....

Somehow, I don't it is a pity. There should not be two of you in the same world. I can confirm that.

I expected that from Kalim more than you, Azul.

There we go!

Oh, so did Grim leave me again? Man, Yuu really didn't give a frick this time around.

................. Sure...... Also, why the lack of French?

Like what? Owning the ocean a la mafia?

I..... Am I ust air to you?! MAKE PLUSHIES! PLUSHIES! WHY HAVEN'T YOU DONE THAT YET?!

Who is going to eat that? Here is the cute creature from another world! You should eat it! Make it into a toy!

Man, this event was not kind to you, Deuce.

Hopefully with a key shaped object! Hint. HINT!

They will. Don't worry.

Even the game is like "Yeah, no. More are coming" This event wasn't as funny as the first one, but it did have its moments. I can't believe Jade's hid a body, Azul just played monopoly, Kalim nearly fell to his death, Ortho made a jetpack, Rook was just Rook, Lilia scared people, and the winner is Deuce having a loney tunes event!

Also, judging by the pattern, Vil and Idia will be the next SSR. Sweet! I want Idia!

So, we either go to Leona's home (Because that Scar movie is still a thing somehow), Deuce's home (easter is coming, so that would be a good way to tie his event in), Stitch on the Beach (feels like a summer event, so probably not until, you know, summer), or the puppet Halloween event (that's Halloween.... do make me explain why).....

Hey, Deuce, I wanna meet your mom!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland kalim #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland jade #twisted wonderland lilia #twisted wonderland rook #twisted wonderland deuce #twisted wonderland ortho

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highoctanegem · 4 months ago

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Limp D*** (pt. 1) || Jade & Regan

TIMING: Mid-January. LOCATION: Jade & Regan's new house. PARTIES: @kadavernagh & @highoctanegem SUMMARY: Jade comes home after a hunt having all sorts of feelings, Regan wants to figure out what's wrong. CONTENT WARNING: None

Regan wished she could saw Jade’s skull open, tear through her surely marvelous dura mater, and see exactly what was inside. She figured that was love: fingering through your bone partner’s brain, and knowing exactly where all the right grooves were.

It was more dirt than blood staining her shirt, that was for sure. Daiyu’s tips were totally doing something. Making her a little sharper in her movements, and smarter in her decision-making. The goal was never to become a deathly MMA fighter or anything, but being able to dodge more blows and avoid sharp claws and knives jabbing her skin sure did feel nice. It was more dirt than blood, but Jade was pretty sure a blade still managed to slice part of her shirt.

It was less blood than normal, but her hands trembled like she’d fought a dozen spawns without a second to catch her breath. (What was that about?)

Innocent until proven guilty, was what Van said. (Actually, she said it wrong, but she was not gonna make fun of her in her mind). She couldn’t stop thinking about how messed up the concept was. What if she killed a quote-unquote good undead? Even if Jade had caught her with her fangs deep in someone’s neck. Even if the lady had brandished a knife at her in response to her presence. What if? Like, she got rid of a dangerous vampire, going by Van’s code. But no victory tune blasted in her head, no celebratory confetti popped off, instead, it felt more like a funeral march as she made her way back home. What if? What if she halted someone’s unlife before they could go into their redemption era? (Was this how it was gonna feel from now on?).

Reaching the entrance of their love nest, she hoped Regan was already in bed. She hoped she was sleeping peacefully and dreaming about Aneurysm the horse, or Bill Nye, or even Jade (it was a testament to how scrambled she felt that she was only the third option she considered). She didn’t think she wanted to deal with Regan’s concern. She wanted to wash her hands, take her clothes off, slide under the covers and cuddle. She was in the mood to be a little jetpack this time around. Wait, should she shower? Maybe she should shower. In case Regan was indeed dreaming of option number 3 and woke up in need of a helping hand…

Regan wasn’t sleeping. Cause Regan didn’t sleep easy either. Cause there were the nightmares, and the anxiety, and the loneliness, and the horrors and the overwhelming lack of purpose (she wondered what that was like) and… Regan wasn’t asleep, of course. And that almost made Jade cry in relief. Which was weird, cause…didn’t she want her to be sleeping instead? (Did she lie to herself? Surely not…). “What’s up with you?” she smiled lovingly, a twinkle lighting up her eyes again. Despite. (Regan had that effect). She unfastened the sling of her crossbow, the holster where she kept her knives, she slid the bag of stakes down her shoulder, not caring where anything landed, and joined Regan at the table. “Couldn’t sleep without me, huh?” she teased, leaning forward cause it had been hours. That had to be about a hundred kisses! (Times a million. Cause gay math worked like that). But she froze before her lips could brush Regan’s, bumping their noses instead. “I um, smell like cemetery,” she apologized (for some reason) (?).

—

–It’s coming up. Christmas, I mean. And I have missed you. More than Al, more than Liam, and especially more than Al. Are you going to be–

Regan hissed a breath of air through her teeth, the screen of her phone cracking at the sound. She set her pen down and sighed. Slogach. The chain of her necklace tangled around her fingers; that silver chain felt like a rope at times, though she was the one who insisted on not freeing her neck. Right now, she also felt heavy with concern, because Jade had been out longer than usual, and she was tempted to run out there with a flashlight soon. This was keeping her busy for now though. Regan looked down at her letter draft – it was going to join the pile of her last twenty discarded attempts. Before she could feel too defeated, the door creaked open. Jade. She sat up, alert – she had been waiting out here for Jade, but it felt shocking all the same. The tension melted from her muscles as Jade peered in and then locked eyes with her. “Later than usual tonight. I was– I thought – I mean, I know you’re competent, I only mean– who knows, you could have tripped. Or there could have been coyotes. Or a big… bird.”

But there was something strange about Jade’s demeanor. Skittish, but not in the obvious way. She was avoiding something. The flirtation, that twinkle in her eyes that seemed slightly duller than normal. Regan’s eyes narrowed, because she knew what this was. A distraction. Unfortunately, those usually worked, because Jade could draw Regan’s attention so effectively she’d pull her eyes off a fresh deer smeared across a highway if Jade so much as breathed near her. So, yes, Regan was successfully distracted, but she could still try and piece together why Jade was doing this (while thinking about how nice it would feel to finally get in bed and do things that would make even the dead blush, which was obviously just livor mortis in a prone decedent). At first, Regan thought it was because Jade had some amount of discomfort coming home to her right after she was out slaying – she knew Regan didn’t like the weapons, the danger. That Regan still shrank away from the blades at times. More than that, there was a difference of ‘opinion’ that both of them preferred to ignore. It was a wide chasm, but not as wide as the Atlantic Ocean, which they had overcome. Still, after so much, didn’t they deserve to have no problems? Ever? Yes. They would never have problems again.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Regan confirmed, “not with you out there.” The double meaning of the statement wouldn’t be missed by Jade. Certainly, it would have been easier to sleep if Jade were in bed, but that wasn’t the issue, was it? “I’ve been writing a little. Nothing particularly interesting.” Regan nudged her journal shut and closed the pen with a decisive click. Jade could think Regan was writing about her; it was often the case, and didn’t require any explanation. Regan closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, smiling as Jade approached. She could feel Jade’s breath against her lips, but no kiss came. Regan opened her eyes, feeling a little bit deprived. Where was her kiss? Wait, shouldn’t she be trying harder to figure out what Jade was playing this game over? Was it shame about where she was, what she was doing, or was there more?

Regan studied Jade but played along for now. She reached for Jade’s arm, not missing the way Jade seemed to flinch slightly. “I like when you smell like cemetery. It’s two of my favorite scents together. Like peanut butter and jelly. Jade and cemetery. Though I prefer a simple peanut butter or jelly sandwich. The combination is unnecessary.” But Regan’s mind was elsewhere: Jade’s movements suggested she was hurt, and the longer Regan looked, the more indications she spotted – scratches and scrapes on the perfect skin of her arms, blood dotting her shirt, with an especially large swath of it sticky against Jade’s abdomen. A stark look crossed her face, and she stood up, all former thoughts about those dead-blushing behaviors sucked out of her skull. She pulled Jade’s arm closer, flipping it slightly, her fingers running over the hot scrapes and claw marks. “This…” Wasn’t even half of it, was it? Regan pushed Jade toward where she was just sitting, managing to be both gentle yet firm. “Sit. I am going to see everything, all of it, so I suggest you speed things up and tell me if anything is actively bleeding and needs immediate attention. I’m getting the first aid kit. Because you’re bleeding. And probably won’t acknowledge that, because you’re used to being hurt.” Before Regan turned to get the kit, she pressed a light kiss to Jade’s forehead, holding it for a little longer than normal. Because just like when Jade was out there, Regan had no idea how worried she should be right now.

—

Her eyes, bright and curious, moved to the journal on the table. That made total sense to Jade. Regan usually wrote when something was stuck in her head. She was incredibly honored and totally smug about the fact that she was one of Regan’s greatest muses. (Probably at the top, for sure) (Bill Nye hot on her tail, though). But she was positive Regan wasn’t writing about her this time. Not just cause she had the gut feeling (and the gay feeling), but also cause there was no flush on Regan’s cheeks betraying her. So even if she was nosy as always, she accepted her explanation. Maybe she could convince Regan to read some of it later. Yup. She liked the idea of falling asleep to the sound of Regan’s voice talking about sepsis or ulcers… or reading the grocery list, really. She claimed it wasn’t interesting? Pft, she was totally wrong (nothing new) if she thought Jade wasn’t gonna be thrilled to hear about the most mundane details of anything ever.

Speaking of betrayal, it was right there, shining in Regan’s eyes the moment they opened and she realized there would be no smooching. Oh, Jade so deserved that. How dare she? It was like, a total villain move on her part. But being the literal angel on earth that she was, Regan held zero grudges after such foul play. In fact, she reached for Jade’s arm, quelling some of her worries about the stink and on a less fun note, brushing over some of her scratches. Not that she minded them too much, save for the occasional wince. Instead, she fell into a gay trance, staring at her perfect girlfriend (sorry, bone partner) saying perfect things about PB&J sandwiches and cemeteries and… yup, it made so much sense. She nodded along, enjoying the faint brush of skin that alright, was a little distracting, and almost burst into tears there, for realsies. Cause she had this. Waiting for her at home. Jade, eternal daydreamer, devoted romcom stan had found the stuff Hallmark would be jealous of.

Except, her mind didn’t want her to have even a tiny drop of happiness tonight, quickly crushing her fleeting happiness with a metaphorical hammer. There was no way their story ended the same way Hallmark movies did, with the whole... happy montage of the future, and all the cheesy family Christmas cards flashing while the credits rolled to a generic pop song. In fact, it was probably (or definitely) ending in their new home, surrounded by unpacked boxes and new furniture before their real domestic era could start. Right after getting two (and a half) couches! So unfair. Jade knew that the time kept ticking for her, her bad deeds catching up to her. If only she had like, a cooking show type of timer right above her head she could look at to be aware of how much time she had left. Alas, she was delaying the inevitable. Cause she’d gotten famous in town for the wrong reasons, and she’d built a reputation that sooner or later would reach Regan’s ears.

Didn’t she wanna be the one to break the news, so to speak? Could someone come around and remind her that honesty was actually a good thing? Sometimes (most times) she still needed that reminder.

Regan was on her feet, and her body could tell before her mind caught up, by the way Jade was now surrounded by dull, mid, Reganless air. The kind that was easier to get into her lungs but made nothing tingly or exciting. It sobered her up, or whatever, at least. Jade felt the light push from Regan, coaxing her toward the chair and she glanced up, definitely feeling like she was in trouble. Stupidly, Jade expected Regan to be proud. Like, see! She could kill without getting hurt that badly! This wasn’t the first time Regan had patched her up. So like, she should’ve admired the progress. But all she saw was concern. Cause Regan thought she was bad at her job, didn’t she? Cause she knew she was a failure and couldn’t trust her to come home in one piece. (Yup, that was totally what it was) (And she chose to skip all the evidence that went against that statement cause… cause).

Her siblings would’ve been proud, by the way. Cause they wanted her to succeed. They wanted her to be good. They wanted her to take fewer punches so she could plunge more stakes. Not so she could stop fulfilling her duty, like some wanted her. (Would Regan side with Van, then? Judging by her look… yup).

It would’ve been so easy to joke about Regan wanting to see her without a shirt. Jade could almost see a neon sign suggesting it above their heads, like a comedy show cue. Just to like, break the tension and drag herself out of some swampy waters that had zero bog lemmings and therefore were pointless. She so wanted to. A few months ago she would’ve flirted, she would’ve batted her eyelashes, showed a little skin and Regan would’ve been distracted. They would’ve been distracted. But also, that was before… before… something. It was so freaking weird to feel like she’d changed without having any proof. She had nothing to show for it. And shoot, what if changing was a bad thing? What if Regan preferred the whirlwind, take no prisoners attitude? She fell in love with the breezy, flirty force of nature possessing a small woman’s body. Not with some mopey failure with a limp— What if she was a total drag now? So what, she had to be a killer (for a good cause (?)) and be no fun? How was that fair? Who was making these character choices? She wanted a word.

Regan’s lips touched her skin and her eyes closed. Her body shut down all angsty thoughts running amok and even the dull pain in her belly. And Jade realized she hadn’t exhaled since like, she probably entered the house. So she let a lot of crappy feelings go in one big (a little shaky) sigh. Allowing the power of gay to heal her. She really had the best doctor at home. (What was she even worrying about before?) (Regan’s lips were lethal against bad thoughts). Jade wanted to hold her there forever or, okay… at least for a little longer. Wrap her arms around Regan’s waist and hold each other for a minute. But Regan was inevitably pulled by the invisible strings of that oath she kept reneging. Her real calling. So Jade watched her go fetch the first aid kit, and in the meantime, she hoisted herself up on the table. It was probably better if she was supposed to play the role of patient, right? When Regan returned, Jade immediately raised her shirt, revealing the slice inches above her navel. “This is the worst I got. The rest is just…” mental, she wanted to say, but she shrugged instead. (Again, why wasn’t she quipping ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’?)

Maybe becoming boring Jade had nothing to do with her duty, actually. Maybe she was trying to blame it on something and being super wrong about it. Maybe it was the whole turning thirty. Yup. Maybe she got hit by the whole, frontal lobe developing thingy, cause… So much more thinking was happening at all times. Right now, she was thinking about Regan (nothing new, obviously). But Regan in the context of… what her place was in all of this. How it affected her. Cause Jade wanted Regan to have as many places in her life as she desired. All of them even. But, she’d never really opened that door when it came to hunting. She’d let her duty exist alongside her devotion to the woman she loved. (If not, a little behind Regan, most of the time) (That was like, a pretty important part of the lore). Never together. Her thumb brushed the ring on her finger, finding some encouragement in the small heart Regan had given her. If she wanted all of Regan, didn’t Regan deserve all of her too?

“I’m sorry I scared you, I was out pretty late” She pouted, eyebrows pinched in concern as she watched Regan set aside what she needed from the kit. Right, speaking of changes… Months ago, that question would’ve offended Regan. Cause she did not feel fear and all that. Right now it still made her uncomfy, probably. Cause it acknowledged her failure. Which turned into their failure. It was all one big, big pile of failure stacked on top of more failure, sprinkled with whoopsies, and drizzled in loser sauce. Cause oh! Months ago, Jade apologizing for anything, especially for her duty, also would’ve been a sign that she needed intervention from her siblings, stat!

But neither of them were sticking to the old scripts. Jade was pretty sure there had been no signs of change at all. She hadn’t even gotten bangs or started Yoga or changed her phone’s screen lock or anything that drove the message across or introduced her new era. Just… this weird, yucky sensation some would call… awareness. “I’ve been doing this so long, I forget you have to watch me go fight…” She didn’t say vampires. Another touchy subject. For Regan, who wasn’t sold on the concept despite living with a slayer, and for herself too… after… all of the aforementioned failing. “And then I come home like this, I just… I wanna keep people like you safe, you know?” Like Regan. Like Erin. Like Van. Others too. Even… Maybe people like Vic, who deserved to return safely to her baby. But that part was harder to say out loud. Maybe the Jade who cut bangs would’ve said it. And it would’ve made a splash. But apparently, current Jade was still latching on for dear life to the version of herself who succeeded in her duty, the version who was good.

—

“I didn’t say I was scared,” Regan pointed out, though her tone indicated the words she had or hadn’t spoken didn’t really matter: she was scared. Any other time her eyes would linger on Jade’s stomach, the impressive musculature and skin that was even softer than it looked, but she had a role to play right now, and it startled her how easily she slipped back into that figurative (ick) lab coat and PPE. They fit better than an Apple uniform. The color was also superior. “I’ll admit I thought about you the whole time you were out. I always do when I write.” She hesitated for a moment. “Except for those brief moments where I consider Bill Nye, but forget him.” She almost could.

Regan's fingers were precise as she cleaned Jade's wound – however, she wouldn’t let the feeling of normalcy sneak in, even when she could feel it coming close. She didn’t think treating the wounds of a loved one this frequently was normal, not that she minded the action itself. But then, was anything about them normal (other than the decidedly normal ulcer wall)? Anything in this town? Regan pushed those questions away, too, focusing on what needed to be done. The slice above Jade's navel wasn't particularly deep, but it was long enough to concern her, making Jade’s skin pucker around it. Regan’s eyes kept darting between the injury and Jade's face, watching for signs of pain she knew Jade would try to hide. Between Jade and Emilio, she was starting to think all hunters were like this to some extent.

“Safe,” Regan echoed, the word catching in her throat like a swallowed scream. She pressed the gauze more firmly against Jade's skin, perhaps harder than necessary. “You do, Jade… keep people safe. Diligently, more than almost anyone. I am safe. With you. Most everyone is – this town and these people are fortunate to have you. But you…” She trailed off, unable to voice her concerns (okay, fears) about Jade's safety. Instead, she once again focused on her work, methodically cleaning and dressing the wound.

“This is an incised wound from a blade,” Regan said, towing the line between accusatory and observation. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, despite there being no pain receptors where she allegedly felt it – a sensation that would have fascinated her clinically if it wasn’t as tender as the wound she was dressing. Fine, so maybe she was moving into accusation territory now. “It could have hit your stomach or an artery,” Regan added, as she finished securing the bandage. Her thumb traced along Jade's abdomen, following the path the blade had taken. “Four millimeters deeper and you would have been dealing with significant blood loss. The kind that would have prevented you from making it home to me.” She met Jade's eyes steadily. “I know what that looks like. And while you would make an excellent decedent – the best, in fact, if you wish to brag – I much prefer you animate.”

Regan rolled her tense shoulders, which probably belied her clinical tone. She could feel Jade holding something back; she was a few maddeningly small bones (the ossicles, it was usually) away from a complete skeleton, the full picture And it wasn’t just about her injuries, was it? Jade’s first thought had been keeping people safe, so this seemed more about her duty. It was a concern about her “Big D”. Regan’s fingers brushed against Jade’s stomach again, and she didn’t think the change in Jade’s breathing was a sign of pain. Or arousal, but… well, two things can be true, as Jade liked to say.

“This is about being flaccid, isn’t it?” She pushed a little more. “You can be a little evasive, in case you were unaware,” Regan said firmly, her hands moving to examine the scrapes on Jade's arms next. “Like Lullaby when she remembers that particular spot under the bed. Not evasive about the injuries themselves, though I’m sure you’re aware I’d like to know what, or who, did this to you. I have things to say to them.” Things that would probably break their windows if she said them now, which she couldn’t do before they found a decent glass repair company. Her previous contact died. Regan’s fingers paused over a particularly nasty scratch. “So speak to me. I like when you speak, and you like when you speak. Also, take your whole shirt off, will you? I will let you decide which order you want to do those things in. And if it helps, you can make a remark about me wanting to see you shirtless.” Jade probably thought of at least a dozen options in the last few minutes, though it was telling that she hadn’t voiced them. Regan wished she could saw Jade’s skull open, tear through her surely marvelous dura mater, and see exactly what was inside. She figured that was love: fingering through your bone partner’s brain, and knowing exactly where all the right grooves were.

—

Jade really, really, really wanted to ask Regan what exactly were those thoughts she was having (she had a gay hunch) (and, did she mention how she really wanted to ask?). But as much she kept wanting to swerve in a fun direction, someone or something hooked her back to the very serious, very honest moment Regan was trying to facilitate. Maybe Jade needed it, too. Maybe that was why no matter how many opportunities were presented for her to derail everything, she couldn’t go for them. Maybe she had run out of opportunities to hit the metaphorical snooze on this convo. Maybe trying to shove every negative thought and feeling into little boxes and compartments, then proceeding to hide them away in the top shelf of the closet she could never in her wildest dreams reach anyway wasn’t like… healthy or whatever. (Even thinking that made her a little nauseous) (Which was weird, cause she was like, so self aware these days!)

Regan got to work on her teeny tiny knife wound, all the while she tried hyping Jade up. And boy, she wished it was working. The words, obviously. Regan was a pro at patching up, even if the extra pressure against her tender skin made Jade grimace twice. She deserved that, for sure. The pain was welcomed, cause it reminded her that she wasn’t keeping most people safe, actually. She was still failing and flopping, and if she trained harder this wouldn't be happening. Yup, that was the solution for all of this. Maybe she’d listen to Eve’s suggestion and sign up for one of the hunter camps in the area, and go full Billy Madison. In fact, her momentary enlightenment was furthered when Regan called out how bad her injury could’ve been. “But it didn’t. It didn’t hit those things,” she pushed, getting a little prickly. And 90 percent was to reassure Regan that she would never, under any circumstances not make it home to her. (This wasn’t some grim foreshadowing to cry about later) (She’d literally signed up for like, a bunch more seasons already). But also? Fine, she felt 10 percent judged. It hurt her big, wet feelings. Cause, how else was she supposed to take the comment when she grew up with Ruby, an expert at calling out every single hair that moved the wrong way, but never ever pointed out any of the good she did?

But then Regan called her the best decedent she’d ever have, gave her that look and Jade softened immediately, feeling crappy for being a little defensive. Even if the words might have sounded the same in her head, they could never mean the same. Plus Regan wasn’t wrong, technically, and could obviously tell she was like, not right in the head right now. Jade was experiencing what some would describe as… um, thought bloating. (And sure, the only two people calling it that would be the ones present in this room, but still). Being the best doctor in the world, Regan took matters into her own hands, or well fingers, as she brushed against her skin in a way that totally eased said bloating for a few beats. In fact, it stirred something much nicer in her belly. Until Jade was called out on her flaccidness. Wow. Talk about a cold shower. And alright, whatever… Regan knew better than anyone how to anticipate her playbook. So Jade let out a sigh of defeat, lips curving into a frown. “Maybe. Kinda. I’ve been… struggling to stay… you know, hard. In my beliefs.” And wait, had Regan gotten handsy with her just to melt her barriers? She was so hot for that. If the butterflies in her belly hadn’t died when she got called flaccid, she would’ve done something about that.

Instead, Jade sought Regan’s gaze, unsure what her eyes might be conveying. Whether she was pleading for Regan to drop it, or for her to push a little harder. (Oh, yup…there was that nausea again). And Regan only wanted one thing really: For her to speak. And also… to take her shirt off? She hadn’t expected to burst into laughter while talking about how her duty was in shambles, but that was how magical Regan was. The uncertainty in her eyes melted into affection. “I mean, it would help a little to know you still find me hot,” she felt herself smile, which was nice for a sec. Then she removed her T-shirt, never taking her eyes off Regan to get her reaction. The easy part was done, right? On nights like these though, Jade actually noticed how her shoulder was stiffer than it used to be. But like, it had to be some weird psychological pain, probably. The kind that could only be felt when she remembered why she got shot in the first place.

And so, Jade found herself sitting half naked on their table, which was so not how she pictured this conversation ever happening. But like, one of them being a little naked at any given moment kinda tracked anyway. Except, Regan wanted her to be emotionally naked, also. She could do that. She would do whatever Regan wanted her, the audience at home knew that. But, shockingly, it turned out to be a lot harder to get the words out. (Almost like she had decades of horrors to unpack) (Hypothetically). Like, where did she even start? Everything was so tangled in her head, and why did she feel the urge to look around the room to make sure her siblings, or worse, her parents weren’t prying on this convo? Like, should she turn her phone off too? (Geez, paranoid much?)

“I just…” her eyebrows pinched together, the small wrinkle in between holding all of her anguish. And it was so sick and twisted that her eyes were already a little soggy. “I can’t,” she admitted, reaching for Regan’s elbow, bringing her closer. That always seemed to help. “It’s actually like, hard to speak cause… you know. I mean… and like…” Right? That made total sense. Conversation dunzo, time to make out! Or not. Regan was giving her those eyes. (Not to be confused with those eyes). Like, the ones she gave Jade after the whole blowing up at Van situation. The ones that saw beyond what Jade herself was willing to see. And again, she wanted to appease that concern, more than anything. Alright. Okay. Regan wasn’t asking her to be 6ft tall or to come home with Boneios, she just wanted… words. (But honestly? She’d rather try to find those boneios).

Another sigh tumbled past her lips, but Regan was definitely coaxing some of the compartments open. “I’m not… flaccid. I’m dysfunctional. I’m a failure.” It was all she’d ever been, technically, so in some twisted way, she was absolutely nailing her part. “Why… why would you want me to be that?” she asked in a small voice. She wasn’t able to ask Van that, but maybe Regan had the answer. And oh, words might actually start flowing now… “Like. I mean, how can you even say I keep people safe when you know I’m letting undead go?” Which was… wrong, right? According to the Bloodworths, it was super wrong. According to Van, offering the benefit of the doubt was the least she could do. But then according to Wynne, she was supposed to play judge. She tried keeping her eyes on Regan, but shame weighed her head down. “I’m a failure and that’s… the whole problem. But if I’m not a failure… then… what’s that? I’m a murderer, right?” According to Siobhan, at least. (But more recently, according to her own conscience).

Maybe Regan wanted her to speak cause she could tell her what the right answer was. Right? She did love it when Regan called the shots. There was no one Jade trusted more. She just needed a little direction, that was all. “What am I supposed to do? I just… I don't get why I’m seeing this crossroad, but my sib— they can't… I must be wrong. Am I wrong? I think I’m wrong. Onyx wouldn’t be wrong. Ruby would definitely never be wrong.” But Jade? She’d been labeled wrong the moment she took her first breath. So it was just… Occam’s razor.

And while they were touching upon what made her little heart ache day and night, wasn’t there much bigger sadness to tackle? See, this was why talking about sad stuff was bad. Cause the emotional closet only held off for so long, and if you didn’t organize your boxes well enough, everything started falling apart until it was an avalanche of suck. And now everything had tipped to the ground, even the stuff that had been sealed for months. (Maybe this was the way her subconscious was forcing her to finally watch that one Marie Kondo show). Jade picked up the wrong kinda emotional baggage, but she couldn’t stop herself from pointing the spotlight at it. “You left,” she squeezed Regan’s bicep, keeping her in place. Her eyes begged her not to move. And crap, she wasn’t supposed to say that. Cause Van had said that was like, justifying her very bad, very stupid choices. Which, Jade still wasn’t fully convinced she agreed, but also… what if she was wrong? She seemed to be so wrong about so many things. Cause it did kinda give ‘this is your fault’ vibes, which was literally the opposite of what Jade wanted. She even took Regan to the airport! Why would she do that and then be resentful? The math wasn’t mathing. Her voice lacked any malice at least, it was just… wet and sad. And a little pathetic. How else was she supposed to explain without context, though?

(And maybe, another time they could have a convo about how completely ignoring that whole Ireland turmoil the second Regan came home with her chopped wings, was probably not very healthy or good for either of them in the long run, huh?)

“What I’m trying to… I wanted to be like you. I tried, you know? Being better. Being good. I tried it, and it didn’t make me any good. It almost got me like, canceled, actually. The PR spin cost me millions. But kissing babies was kinda nice, and helping the elderly was totally rewarding,” she squeezed Regan’s arm tightly, fingers tapping nervously against her skin and closed her eyes for a beat, just to stop herself from going on a pointless, unserious tangent. Didn’t Daiyu and Owen call this? The other shoe dropping eventually? Her duty, the violence it took to carry it out being incompatible with… the love she had for Regan? Welp. They’d probably love knowing they might be right. She opened her eyes again, apologizing. “I’m… speaking in metaphors, baby. It comes out without thinking. Cause… I’m scared. And… I know, weird, right? Me, scared. But I am. Like… ‘wasps buzzing around me’ scared that you won’t… that you’ll want out if I’m honest about… things”.

—

The way Jade's muscles tensed under Regan’s fingers told her more than the actual confession – anxiety (sorry, allergies) manifesting in physical symptoms. Regan thought of all of the stomach aches that Jade once said kept her from spending a lot of time being a child, doing things children do, like collecting severed digits on the beach. Then Regan thought of Cliodhna, who would have said, of course a weak heart makes for a weak stomach. Regan didn’t think Jade had a weak heart. It pumped more fiercely than any other she’d known (granted, most hearts she had become intimate with were not beating at all). Regan traced the outline of Jade's deltoid, partially to soothe, partially because touching Jade was as natural as breathing. Which, actually, she did far less of than touching Jade.

“No, it didn't hit those things,” Regan agreed, her voice steady as she continued cleaning the wound. “...This time. Just like that spawn didn't crush your trachea last month, or that gunshot wound didn’t – my point is, your middle name is not Caution, despite the occasional claim.” Regan dabbed the antiseptic with precise, gentle movements. “I've seen too many lives that didn't make it home, and then I have needed to inform their next of kin. When I say four millimeters, I'm not being theoretical. I know exactly how thin that margin is between life and death.” She tried to pile dirt over the tracks that would have continued that train of thought – the inevitability of one day screaming for Jade. They often spoke of their deaths, of being bone partners, even of how beautiful Jade’s internal anatomy must be. But even Regan set aside the coldest truths about the deaths of loved ones. She wondered what Jade read into her silence. Did Jade hear similar from her siblings? That posture and poise would prevent such a tragedy? Cliodhna criticized Regan’s form constantly. She did not care that her granddaughter controlling her screaming would keep people safe. She cared for her pride and legacy. Did Jade’s family care about that more than her coming home? Regan cared for only one thing.

She reached up to brush a strand of hair from Jade's face, letting her fingers linger against her cheek. Regan’s expression grew more serious (what it was best at) as she processed Jade's admission about her beliefs; she knew she had something to do with it, which made the bottom of her stomach heavy with detritus. Regan wanted to say, what is there to question? She wanted to say there was certainly nothing wrong with Jade’s duty (she wanted). Part of her clung to that, and maybe earnestly believed it. But it was too easy to think about the ‘mistakes’ (if such potential grievous error could be called a simple mistake). Jade had almost killed Metzli, thinking them the kind of monster she hunted. Jade came home on nights like this, bearing injuries like that. Regan believed in what Jade did, though. She protected death, protected life. And if Regan’s thoughts on the matter were this tangled and layered, she could only imagine Jade’s.

“Contrary to popular belief, and what I sometimes claim, doctors do not know everything. Sometimes there’s a presentation – in a hospital, on the autopsy table, it doesn’t matter – that looks like one thing. A diagnosis, a prognosis. Practically pathognomonic at times. But then it’s wrong. The doctor was wrong. Not me, of course… another doctor. Rickers. Whomever. The symptoms and presentation don't change, but our understanding does. Medical uncertainty, even in something that ought to be so black and white.” In many ways, Regan still thought of her own trajectory to be something medicine has just never grasped yet, but someday would. Her fingers traced the edge of the bandage she'd just applied. “Maybe what you're experiencing isn't flaccidity. Perhaps you’re actually becoming more… erect in your development, and don’t yet realize it. If life were one of your movies, one might say you’re climaxing. Like when the… zoids combine in the Power Rangers 2017 film, but far more stimulating.” She paused. “If you cannot tell, I do still find you incredibly hot.” She brushed a hand over Jade’s hip, the smallest smile on her lips, which had become so natural. “Your hips and shoulders might be hurt, too… too much tension. I will help with the range of motion later.” If there was anything Regan could put at ease, it was surely that.

That established, Regan took a long breath and looked at Jade’s eyes. Fear. Why was there so much fear there? That was what it was, right? Regan was getting better at identifying emotions, relearning what she worked so hard to forget. “It is an interesting differential diagnosis you’ve made. Though your siblings' opinions hardly constitute peer review, no?” She was on the move again to examine a particularly nasty bruise forming on Jade's ribs. “But you're not dysfunctional, chroí. You're just changing, decomposing beautifully. Growing like a waterlogged cadaver in its bloat stage. Or like how a diagnosis can change as we gather more information. Or the… megazord.”

She met Jade's eyes, also scanning the stress wrinkles on her forehead, then the tender tears brimming over her eyes. Once, Regan had panicked at the sight of Jade’s leakage. She had scurried around looking for a receptacle, only to realize a sleeve would have sufficed, then subsequently realized that containing Jade’s sogginess wasn’t the thing that mattered. So Regan didn’t panic at the tears (this time), or the nasal quality of her favorite voice. Though she rarely heard it so small, like it could have come from the child Jade never got to be. Regan kept a steady hand as it moved to cup Jade's cheek, thumb brushing away moisture. "And you're not a failure because you question things. If that is all a human does – question things – it would be a life worth living. I was not allowed to. You may not have been told you are not allowed, but…” It was practically the same thing, wasn’t it? “I want you exactly as you are – someone who thinks, who feels, who doubts, no matter how soggy that sounds.” Regan paused, doing one last check to make sure Jade’s wounds were all tended to. She wouldn’t object if Jade were slightly less perforated, but she kept that one to herself.

“Who are you letting go, Jade? People? Like Metzli? K– Not letting Metzli go wouldn’t help you keep people safe. Metzli has a heart – which I’m certain must beat even if – not the point. Metzli is no threat to the people you care to keep safe.” Regan was loath to move away from Jade even a little, even for a second, but she ran a cost-benefit analysis in her head, and then stood higher. She guided Jade toward the couch (the green one, though the outline couch wouldn’t have been a bad decision), eager to be even closer once Jade was comfortable. The benefits part was always better. That mental analysis got Regan thinking further… maybe she could speak to that part of Jade, if emotion was too disorganized (it was certainly Regan’s preference).

“I will speak objectively as well. The time you would spend attempting to… to not let Metzli and others like them go, could be better utilized on the spawn, couldn’t it? That would keep more people safe. The math is mathing, right?” Regan’s voice, not usually prone to shrinkage, shrunk after a moment. “Or… you could spend it with me.” Because they didn’t spend enough time together. And Regan was not needy or clingy. She had plenty to do. There were seven dead chipmunks in the front yard to show for her stroll earlier, and so many crumpled pages that– right.

Just as Regan thought she might be getting through to Jade, her ears heard a word that made no sense. Murderer. The word murderer, coming from Jade’s mouth to describe herself, might have once felt like an icy fist being twisted into Regan’s stomach. Before she knew Jade this well, before the onset of this pseudo-flaccidity, before the ring on her finger. Now it elicited something else. Confusion, first. “A failure and a murderer?” Regan asked, not fully understanding. The self-loathing she felt from Jade tasted like decomp particles that made it onto her tongue when she spoke. Then certainty came surging in like an immune response. “You are not a murderer,” Regan’s voice grew bolder, and the words spilled out. “Where are the bodies, Jade? You would never harm a living, breathing thing. And the situation with Metzli– the circumstances– it was an honest mistake.” Multiple times. Mistakes were often made multiple times. By humans, not banshees.

“The spawn I've seen you fight - those were different. No higher brain function. Like rabid animals, except that's insulting to animals. Your children are nothing like that. But these others... I've seen Metzli’s eyes leak, you know. I got peascake with one of them. I almost moved in with one…” She trailed off, unwilling to continue that particular thought process. Jade knew, anyway. They never exactly spoke about it at length.

“You want me to tell you what to do,” Regan realized, voice precise as a scalpel. “Like how Cliodhna told me exactly how to be a banshee. How to scream. How to kill. How to be nothing. Other than one of her skinned rabbits.” Regan tried to wedge herself inhumanely close to Jade. “But I was wrong to listen to her. Just like you would be wrong to listen to me, or Ruby, or anyone else who claims to know exactly what's right.”

She raised her brown at Occham’s razor. “One unifying diagnosis is pleasing, but death – and life – are not so considerate. Hickam’s dictum; are you familiar with the corollary? A patient may have as many diagnoses as they damn well please. Sometimes situations are… multifactorial.” Regan pressed a kiss to Jade’s cheek. The only bad thing about the couch was the limited range.

“I have come to prefer complexity. You’ve always been special.” Medicine and the shadow it cast over her perspective had never concealed anything else. They never steered her wrong. How fortunate only one of them dealt with such complexity nowadays.

“Crossroads only mean there is a decision to make. Did you know they were there, these crossroads? Which do not truly exist, by the way. I am not speaking of an actual intersection. But rather… the way you had never picked a color for walls before, or the way you have never determined which couch will be in your future for the next seven to fifteen years. We celebrate our firsts, don’t we?” Regan tangled her fingers through Jade’s hair, providing some gentleness, but her voice was still firm and confident. “The fact you have not made a decision yet does not make you wrong. Ruby, Onyx, they’re still following the path that was laid out for them. We seem to go off road entirely, don’t we?” Regan scrunched up her face. “But I am done with metaphors for the next few decades.”

There was still something wrong. Jade’s duty wasn’t flaccid, but her whole body certainly seemed to be. Then it came.

You left. Oh. There was that. That small, minuscule thing, suitable to be found only in a histology slide under a microscope. The tiny thing neither of them really spoke about now that it was over. Buried it. Was Jade – why was she bringing it up now, like this? What did it have to do with her perceived failures? Regan tried to follow along the thread of logic, but it was like a cat’s cradle through Jade’s fingers. Usually, Regan liked that (the complexity of the woman she loved). Not when it involved Ireland. Finally, Regan hit on something. She had even brought it up earlier: was this about the gunshot? The monster who shot her, which Regan would have blown apart herself if given the opportunity? Regan might be wrong, but the look she was getting – that knowingness that mirrored her own now before anything was even spoken – said otherwise.

“It isn’t your fault some monster shot you while I was gone. And the other things – the bruises, the – it was not your fault. Beasts did that to you.” But… Regan realized, her confidence wearing down, that Jade might not have been saying it was her own fault. Rather… did Jade blame her? The realization made Regan shift on the couch, pushing herself up as the thought weighed her down.

Suddenly, this was unfamiliar territory. Or at the very least, a surgical site that had not healed properly. She was doing what no doctor should do: continue to neglect it.

After a long moment filled with Jade’s strained breaths and Regan hardly breathing at all as the air rotted in her throat, she managed to speak. “I did leave,” Regan said, her voice clinical, like she was reciting from a medical text (Gray’s, not Grey’s) rather than addressing something that still made her wings ache beneath their glamour. Her fingers jumped from Jade’s hair to the necklace she wore around Jade, even still. She also focused on the physical – Jade's grip on her bicep, the way Jade's pulse surely elevated slightly with swampy emotion. Safer territory these days. “I was always going to. I had to.”

Jade’s explanation did not offer much explanation at all, but Regan had grown accustomed to the clipped, often metaphorical way words tumbled out whenever she got especially stressed. Even if she couldn’t always pick apart those metaphors. Admittedly, she had hoped to be done with them for a while.

Some things were clear enough, though. “You want to be like me?” Regan's eyebrows lifted as her hands stilled on Jade's skin. “The person who was not a person? The attempted human who works at the Apple Store? Who can't even tell her brothers and mother what she became? You tried to be good while I was trying to become nothing.” Regan’s eyes darted to the trash for a split second. “I've spent months trying to write Reilly a letter explaining why I pushed him away. What happened. So perhaps I'm not the best model for... anything.” Regan kept distracting herself with Jade’s skin, like she was quadruple checking bandages, the clinical routine a comfort when everything else felt too raw. Jade might have appreciated it too, for all the trembling Regan felt.

“You talk about being good like it's something quantifiable. Something you can measure, like blood loss or tissue damage. I used to think that way too. That if I followed every rule, performed every ritual perfectly, I could be what I was supposed to be. Perfect. Nothing.” Her voice took on a harder edge. “We both know how well that worked out. And I am glad for it, you know.” Her voice softened, especially as Jade’s fear sunk in. The reason behind it. “No.” The word was firm, and it should have been obvious what she was responding to. “I've held enough hearts in my hands to know that yours is extraordinary. I have no intention of…” Regan couldn’t even voice the words. Her mouth refused to fuel her speech.

“I am not going anywhere. And especially not Ireland.” She abandoned the bandage and leaned in toward Jade, feeling slightly victimized that she couldn’t stare into her sad eyes and kiss her the way she wanted to at the same time. “And I love you. Every part – kidneys, lungs, toes, lips, eyes… even the parts that make you doubt. Especially those parts, actually, even if they don’t map to anatomical structures I can list. I don't need to perform a cranial dissection to understand what's happening in that rather exceptional brain of yours,” Regan continued, her hands sliding down to rest on Jade's shoulders. “Though the offer stands, someday. The human brain is drawn toward false dichotomies. Like how mine insisted there was only one way to be a banshee, when clearly…” She trailed off, thinking of the Apple Store uniform hanging in their closet. “You have more than two options. You can do anything.”

“Jade,” Regan finally said, her voice soaked with exasperation and fear she didn’t want to acknowledge because Jade had enough for both of them. She wasn’t sure where Jade was going with this, but she couldn’t imagine anything fracturing her thoughts on the matter, of confirming Jade’s fears. “What happened while I was gone?”

#w: regan #w #wickedswriting #w: limp d*** pt 1

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vilevileposting · 9 months ago

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I'm reading homestuck for the first time (Weeks 5 and 6)

I keep forgetting to post these and I'm sorry!

I've been enjoying going around telling people homestuck is good actually. That's a role I never got to occupy in my young life as homestuck passed me by. So far zero people have believed me and I don't expect that to change.

I have now seen a picture of a troll! Foul little imp

I *am* left with my first little critique of homestuck: Act 3 felt like it was building to the End of Act 3 flash, like it was trying to outdo End of Act 2. Setting things up almost more for the payoff of the flash than for the sake of the story. I don't think a series of lore bombs is a very good way to structure a story, and I'm worried that's the structure the series is going to take. That said, it *is* fun in the moment, it's only in hindsight that I'm thinking this.

Our dealer and homestuck veteran Char has been writing discussion questions for our weekly book club meetings (sometimes), and I've decided to include those along with my answers.

Week 5

980: I bet If I could pause here I’d see something wacky

1000: Interesting that John changed his name *to* Ectobioloist from something else, especially after the prior reveal that ectobiology is a thing in this setting. ARGH I SHOULD HAVE FINISHED THE PAGE BEFORE WRITING THIS NOTE

1022: Tempted to go back and look… This is the kind of thing I’d miss.

1024: This exchange makes me feel like I’m right about both their parents, but I’m getting a little used to the rug pulled out from under me. I feel like I’m picking up on a kind of rule of threes. If I’m right about something, my attention’s drawn to it once, and then the second time it shows up is confirmation. But if I’m wrong, my attention is drawn to it, then my conclusion is hinted at more blatantly in a “it sure looks like that huh” kind of way, and finally the third time it appears is the rug pull. I can’t think of an example following this format right off the melon, I’m going off pure vibes sleep deprived and on a plane.

1026: There are two towers on that funny moon, and it’s notable to me that Rose’s real life house is based on them.

1033: I know those weary eyes!!!!

1039: I appreciate the harsh spike in Gun Realism

1043: Notable to me that the Peregrine Mendicant’s awesome sword is black in color, when you would expect the Light Guys to have white weapons. If indeed he is a Light Guy as Jade’s dream implied.

1046: I would like to apologize for my repeated misgendering of the Peregrine Mendicant. I did it on purpose out of malice. I’m a DEMON

1049: What does this MEAN

1051: Seems like Rose might have been onto something with her subconscious doodling theory, because it only just occurred to me that this takes place prior to basically every other event. Also what does this MEEEEAAAAAN

1062: Pressure cooker bomb reference

1064: Second coming of decoding foreshadowing. Very notable that they got a potted plant, which I seem to recall was one of the things in the jetpack!

1070: Bro EXECUTED Cal for NO REASON!!! THEN LEFT ON A HOVERBOARD!!! I’m telling you in terms of power scaling Dave’s brother is clearly unstoppable.

1093: This has *gotta* be them.

1096: Kamina glasses…….

1099: What is it with Dr. Hussie and ethnic weddings

1108: I was on board for a mayor and a mailwoman, but I am not here for a cop guy

1110: I feel better about a judge guy.

1133: I’m uncertain about Bec’s nature. For a hellbeast, he seems to also be quite cooperative.

1136: Seems like a paradox in the form of sending items to the past is allowed, but not taking items.

1149: Without a pause button I’m just utterly unequipped to handle this – I wrote BEFORE realizing that Nanna’s note is the same note we saw in John’s dad’s copy of Sassacre’s, except written in John’s copy and dropped into the void. This affects the timeline! And I’m really not sure how. I might need to rescind my earlier comment about Nanna being a willing participant in all this, which seems like it may no longer be true. Somehow this copy goes from the void to John’s dad’s safe, then back around again, presuming it’s the closed time loop it seems to be. No clue how that’s gonna come together.

1152: Is this one of the planets we saw? In the process of checking, I notice that there is a LUMINOUS PLANET with a SINGLE MOON, exactly like the one Jade dreamed about. Going by the art style, that indicates this luminous planet and the shadow planet are the sort of centers of light and dark we’re working with. Anyway, if this is one of the four planets then I think it’s the dark cloudy one, or possibly the not so dark (kinda bright actually) cloudy one. A thought that occurs to me now, days later, is that we have 2/4 kids accounted for in dreamland and the shadow planet also has a moon.

There were no discussion questions for Week 6.

Week 6: If Homestuck Book Club was mpreg our child would have a heartbeat.

1159: I think this is the guy in John’s house and I’m not checking.

1169: That’s a setting-specific captchalogue analogue!!! And it’s the same as Wandering Vagrant’s tattoo!!!!!!!!

1170: Hidden message vibes.

1171: Hidden message vibes intensify…

1177: Standing out to me how things get swapped. Clubs Deuce seems to have swapped here with Hearts Boxcars, and a moment ago, the Spade Key was swapped with the rules for blackjack and the war chest was swapped with the deck of cards. If Clubs and Hearts are paired somehow then that would leave Spades paired up with Diamonds, and the rules for blackjack don’t seem very diamondy. I don’t think that’s what’s going on.

1210: Damn I wish I knew how to play poker

1215: Purple planet with a moon…

1219: I saw that the doom wardrobe whatever it was called was the same as Jade’s, but now with John’s bathtub in play I notice all the inventory options are themed after the four kids.

1353: It finally happened

Q: Where do you think the midnight crew and their foes are from? Who does Spades Slick look suspiciously like, and what do we know of his origins?

A: Spades Slick looks exactly like the Warden guy, and for a moment, a lot like WV/PM. He showed up under almost identical circumstances to them too, wandering a destroyed world, and for some reason, making a city. Or present band of synonyms for Wandering Vagrant are uniquely insistent upon civics, with a mailwoman, a mayor, and a judge. It could be that after worlds are destroyed, these guys show up and make something. It’s unclear to me why, or how to categorize everything. The plot of Midnight Crew centers around a conflict of black vs green, not black and white. They did say darkness always wins, maybe there was some other force (time?) before light? We don’t really know where this interlude falls in the timeline, if it falls anywhere at all. For example, if Spades Slick becomes the Warden, or vice versa. Or the secret third option. If those bar codes are an analogue for captchalogue cards, then it stands to reason that that code can be used to replicate the thing it designates. They could just be clones.

Q: Did you understand... any? of the time fuckery?

A: I followed the thread but I could not retell the story if I tried.

Q: Who is the weird little grey fucker at the end of the intermission?

A: John Stuck

Q: What's Snowman's deal? Will she ever be killed?

She’s clearly an imp-thing turned traitor, but there’s so little to go off of. The o in her name wasn’t green at any point, and she’s not shown to have a power besides taking the world with her if she dies. So she’ll probably die. Former Mayor Hussie isn’t striking me as someone who flinches.

Q: Who of these characters, if any, do you think might reappear in Homestuck?

If nobody else, definitely Spades Slick and Snowman. Maybe Lord English, maybe the rest of the Crew.

#homestuck #vile vile notes

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cyber-corp · 2 years ago

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Recap? Nah. The Huss had my back all along.

God bless Andrew for doing the recap, I could not keep up the entire time. I now know that it's an entire solar system planet thing, with a sky world named Skaia at the center, and two moons (Prospit and Derse) orbiting it. Prospit is the "dream world" we saw Jade in, and Derse is the place that future Rose escapes to to avoid being wiped from the timeline.

There's a war between two sides: Light and Dark, and this is a war that Light is "destined to lose". On Page 1801, we see someone (implied to be the Wayward Vagabond) rise up, stop the fighting between the Light/Dark soldiers, and turn the Light/Dark kings(?) to their normal form.

Jack Noir swoops in, slices the Dark King's head clean off, and the staff he has goes flying off into a nearby waterfall.

youtube

The Land of Wind and Shade is where John is, the Land of Light and Rain is where Rose, Dave is set to go to the Land of Heat and Clockwork, and we don't know where Jade is yet to go to.

Apparently the trolls have a separate session of SBURB happening and are attempting to help the main gang not fuck it up. The ones guiding them from the future were the Midnight Crew (meaning Spades Slick is Jack Noir's doppelganger?) Because of the destruction of their home planet, they're living on the massive asteroid belt, The Veil.

Also there's a new guy, twinArmageddons. He's got some slick 3D glasses and types like an actual lunatic (you could say that for all them, him especially though).

Rose just misses making contact with John irl, as he steals her cat and jetpacks away. I wonder if them just missing each other will be a running thing.

The PM sets out to the battlefield to see the White King, but gets pickpocketed by the Courtyard Droll, (who is just Clubs Deuce but sillier). He steals the Queen's Ring.

Luckily, Jade saves the day by using a sick-ass flying kick and changing the art-style.

I'm beginning to notice that HS seems to change artstyles when a character needs to show more dynamic emotions/posing/flying kick moves. I don't mind it especially considering the sorta "lineless" art is really cool and the fact that HS's default artstyle is already hodgepodge to begin with.

I don't what the fuck will happen later but for now...

❄︎☟︎☜︎💧︎☜︎ ☠︎☜︎✠︎❄︎ 👍︎☟︎✌︎🏱︎❄︎☜︎☼︎💧︎ 🕈︎✋︎☹︎☹︎ 👌︎☜︎

✞︎☜︎☼︎✡︎

✋︎☠︎❄︎☜︎☼︎☜︎💧︎❄︎✋︎☠︎☝︎

(Also there's TWELVE trolls?????????)

#homestuck #andrew hussie #courtyard droll #twinarmageddons #recap #john egbert #jade harley #jack noir #Youtube

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fursonagen · 8 hours ago

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Giraffe with pear and orange-red fur with baby blue socks. They are small and chubby. On their head they have blunt cerulean horns and on their back they have white jetpack wings. Their tail is very long. Their hair is jade, very long and has frosted tips. Their eyes are raspberry. Their most interesting features are their lawful deeds, their blue-violet beans and their ability to disguise.

#furry #fursona #bot

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annotatedamblings · 2 months ago

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annotatedAmblings's Homestuck Reread Liveblog: Act 2 (part 4, pages 635-758)

Although liveblog posts will contain analysis due to how we like to engage with media, liveblogs are primarily a collection of whatever thoughts came to mind during our reading. Liveblog posts are constructed with each mod drafting their own live reactions separately before combining them, so some sentiments may be repeated due to both mods noting it down. Any analysis within a liveblog post should not be assumed to be our complete thoughts on the subject.

Blue = Mod Aluria Pink = Mod Jasper Arrows (>>>) are used to indicate commentary on each other's commentary.

Page 636:

Oh hey a fun little reference to Dave's earlier ire.

Page 637:

John has been launched into space. Sad!

Page 640:

KO'd John my beloved. Good thing Rose caught him or the timeline would be so fucked. >Wouldn't be the stupidest way the timeline has been fucked up, probably. >>Even in canon we have John getting himself killed via the whole jetpack thing.

Page 643: John has been doing a lot of fighting and things have generally been fairly high-energy, I don't blame for him for wanting some shuteye. The reasoning for why SBURB works the way it does is so interesting. Rose thinks that the reason she can't move John is because it's "thieving you of your free will as an adventurer, and the need to advance by your own skill and ingenuity" which is. There's something there, but I don't know what yet.

Page 644: Me when I go to sleep in a normal and non-plot-relevant way that will not come up at any point.

Page 646:

Hahaha, remember when discs were something people used. On laptops. And you could use them? Idk where I was going this this was gonna be an enshittification jo- wait. Looking at it. I need to check something. ...okay so this is how I find out that my laptop has had a disc drive this entire time and I just didn't fucking know what it was. Anyway after looking at that keyboard it appears to be a Macbook.

UPDATE A BIT LATER IN THE DRAFTING PROCESS: I asked an IRL friend who knows a decent amount about Apple machines and it most closely matches an iBook G4! Idk if that's intentional but neat! >Stitching Aluria here: quite a few people literally still use discs why did I go on this tangent.

Page 649:

FUCK

Page 651: JADE SILHOUETTE YAY Oh what a fun sequence to introduce how the clouds work for Pros- JADE?

Page 652: I remember being perpetually confused and suspicious of Jade early on my first reading. I understand why Jade won't tell him anything, but I do get John's frustration in this instance. The stakes are much higher now, you can't just withhold information and expect no one to be pissed about it.

Page 660:

It's over Anakin, I have the high ground!

Page 665: 1. "Upward Movement (Dave Owns)" slaps. 2. this is so... habitual for him. This is so intense and then there's a moment right as Dave gets to the roof where he just looks so small. Kinda puts things into perspective in a painful way. Anyway, 2x psyche out combo is sick. Hi WV.

Page 666:

heheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh Tetris Effect boy XP

Page 668: I'd argue that the rotten pumpkin here isn't a true MSPA pumpkin. Cuz we know where it went.

Page 677:

You ever think about how WV is a traumatized veteran revolutionary leader? I do. WV makes me so sad all the time.

Page 680: That ain't a human in that book of human etiquette. Also, I forgot how hard they hammer home the point that he's literally starving to death. Poor guy. >A couple of liveblogs ago I was like "hey do you think he has food insecurity-related trauma" and now it's like oh that's just fucking canon.

Page 681:

Torture.

Page 683:

It is NOT useless for opening cans. I'm gonna lose my shit.

Page 685: Can town!

Page 686:

:( >:(

Page 687:

In this household we respect WV and his anti-monarchical swag. Hey WV, buddy? You wanna talk about it?

Page 688: Is that thing radioactive.

Page 689: It IS radioactive. And he ate it. Okay. Cool. >Maybe he's just built different. Not like he has a pesky human physiology. >>Fair. The narration does call this decision stupid, though. >>>He can have uranium. As a treat. It's enrichment.

Page 703:

I like this sequence's early look at the Incipisphere, including the players' Lands. Very cool! I love it when WV uses his imagination to invent things that surely don't exist! >Hehehehehehehehe

Page 708: I FORGOT THAT PRESSING TAB OPENS THE TAB CABINET. >It sure is a tab button.

Page 710: WV is now dying slightly less of thirst and starvation! :D >Actually iirc soda can dehydrate you a bit. Don't quote me on that I'm not a doctor. Oh wait i have the internet I can fact-check. Okay yeah so the sodium + caffeine can fuck you up in those amounts. The sugar would also do that but Tab is a diet drink that is not sweetened with sugar. >>Okay, then he's dying slightly less of starvation! Wait, it's a diet drink? Nvm he's fucked.

Page 715: GET ZAZZERPANNED. >WIZARD JUMPSCARE. Remind me to do a panel edit that gives him big naturals later. >>HAFHSDHGBS

Page 721: "[S] WV: Lead your men to victory!" is very whimsical. "Vagabounce" is fun to listen to, and it's nice to see him having some fun despite his unusual circumstances. Chess :] I'm glad he's having fun, but, like- the countdown doesn't worry him at all? >Tbf it's not like he can do much. If all you can really do is worry and get distracted, the distraction is a much better option. >>Okay, fair.

Page 723: YAY PM ILY PM Hi PM :}

Page 735:

JESUS FUCK I DO NOT REMEMBER THIS LINE. This man is literally a former revolutionary leader with political opinions and mental health issues and the fandom likes to make him Davekat's uwu buddy because 'carapacians can't talk', something that is both extremely ableist and also untrue??? >Fanon WV makes me sick. They don't even call him his name :{ >>Fanon is usually the enemy. This is why I have yeeted myself back into a room with the source material. >>>It's an honor to be in the room where fanon doesn't happen. Hm. Okay. And I'm just supposed to think this is normal? Cool.

Page 743: I can't remember if this is a carapacian thing or a WV thing but I think it's cool that "uncanny ability to gauge distance" is just a trait he has. And that it's implied to be because chess. >How else is one supposed to know how many spaces you can move forward at once?

Page 746:

I think previously Jasper has mentioned parallels with how John and WV both view themselves as stupid. :( He is so mean to himself. So is John. He's also mean to John. Wondering if there's a connection there. >Same fucking wavelength.

Page 750: Hi Serenity :] Yay! Serenity!

Page 753: Amused deeply by the fact that Serenity's morse code here just says "LASGO". Short + sweet. >No it says "LETS GO" but the difference between "ET" and "A" is a matter of spacing so if you don't pick up on the spacing it's an easy mistake. >>Ah, my bad. Weird how I managed a translation fail that still reads right.

Page 755: He tried to leave but couldn't make it. :( Oh well, it's important for him to be able to meet the other exiles later. :D

Page 756:

CACKLING.

Page 757: "[S] WV: Ascend." wowed me the first time, and it still does! "Explore" is a breathtaking track, and in addition to the visuals of the exiles and Earth in the future and past, it's harrowing to see the Lalondes' actions amidst the flames. I also like the look at the various activities of the three guardians. Truly a great end for Act 2. If you've been reading our posts, thank you for tagging along with us in the lead-up to 4/13. Oh god. Yeah. Ascend's got everything. Genuinely I had to watch this twice. God. Wraps everything up quite nicely, doesn't it? I don't know if I have any other particularly wise commentary other than that it again emphasizes how small Dave is and how big Bro is in comparison, just to really drive the fucking point home.

#homestuck #homestuck reread #aa.txt #aluria.txt #jasper.txt #aa.lvb #act 2

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thewertsearch · 1 year ago

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Ask Comp 29/05

Anonymous asked: Having the car available as an alchemy ingredient now, what should John make first? ~DJ

John has unlocked the ability to fly, but I don't think he's as fast as he was with the jetpack. I think his best option is to merge it with Dad's automobile to create the Jetson Car.

Anonymous asked: the actor who played rufio in hook did his own homestuck liveblog back in the day. when he got to this part he was Somewhat Perturbed. @morganwick asked: Fun fact: around the end of Act 5, Dante Basco, who played Rufio in Hook, started a Tumblr and was immediately besieged by Homestucks pushing him to read the comic. So he started liveblogging it. Take a guess which scene everyone, including Hussie, was waiting for him to get to more than any other.

I can't believe I'm competing with Zuko himself on the Homestuck Liveblogging stage. How the hell can I measure up to that?

@wickedsick asked: The best part about the Wallet is that it's a physical object: you can give it to other people, send it across the tubes, and even store it inside another modus!

It really is a shockingly useful and versatile modus.

With this, his absurd physical stats, and his obvious determination, I feel like Dad would be an exceptionally talented Player.

@manorinthewoods submitted: >John is an immortal God >Still applies seatbelt, because safety is important ~LOSS (24/5/24) Anonymous asked: Obviously there is some deep, hidden classpect meaning to the sudden Seatbelt PSA!

Seatbelts are in cars.

Cars run on gas.

You expel gas when you breathe.

John is the Heir of Breath.

Checkmate, Scratch!

@marinerofthestars asked: Now that you’ve learned what Gamzee’s like sober, do you still reckon he’d be useless or actively detrimental as the Cavalier of Necromancer!Jade?

Oh, good point. A more focused Gamzee could certainly be a dangerous cavalier, especially if he shares the STRENGTH enjoyed by other highbloods. However, that presupposes that he's loyal to Jade, and the current incarnation of Gamzee isn't loyal to anyone.

Initially, I assumed that Gamzee would direct his violence primarily towards lowbloods - but said he was going to kill everyone, aristocrats included. Jade's status as Reverend Daughter wouldn't protect her here.

Besides, even if he was subservient to Jade, I don't think he'd be very reliable. Sure, he's probably better in a fight, but I don't think he'd be particularly useful when they're trying to complete their actual objective - namely, the Lyctor labs. Could you imagine Jade trying to pilot him in Imaging and Response?

At best, Frenzied Gamzee is a decent siphoning target - but that won't be much help either. In the original question, I gave the Houses their canon specialties, and the Ninth aren't siphoners.

In short, a sufficiently loyal Gamzee would be more useful in this state, but not a lot more.

@morganwick asked: So, you still think rendering Gamzee's text in all-lowercase makes him come off as a "chill guy" with a "Californian surfer dude accent"?

Forgot about that, haha. I think the contrast here is in what, exactly, Gamzee is saying in lowercase.

Lowercase Soporified Gamzee does sound like a surfer dude, because he's saying surfer dude things.

Lowercase Frenzied Gamzee, however, sounds like the Joker talking about his scars.

@morganwick asked: This is the part I was worried about your lax spoiler policy ruining things. When you opened the doors for people to offer up title suggestions for you that hadn't appeared in the comic yet Rage was one of the first aspects you got. At some point, if you'd bothered to keep track, Gamzee would have been the one aspect-less troll, and Rage would have stood out as the one non-joke troll-less aspect you knew about. So my concern was that if you started thinking about what it would mean for Gamzee to have Rage as his aspect, it might lessen the shock of seeing him now. A bit overly paranoid? Maybe, especially since Eridan being called the Prince of Hope came after Gamzee's "BlAsPhEmY" moment so more likely you'd have just connected it to the latter if anything, but we've seen some pretty perceptive bloggers in our time so this is to give some insight into the mindset behind a stricter spoiler policy.

It could definitely have been a problem - especially if I'd taken the time to enumerate the Aspects in detail. According to Cat, there were several asks requesting that I do so, which she filtered out in order to obfuscate Rage a little. Good choice, I think. If someone had called attention to it, I'm sure I'd have noticed that it was probably Gamzee's Aspect.

I still think the fun I was having with Aspect guesses was worth the risk, but I also see where you're coming from. Luckily, it never actually came up, so no harm was done.

@bladekindeyewear asked: VAGUE EXTERNAL MEDIA CLASSPECTING: According to certain theoretical fan frameworks, The Joker is a picture-perfect example of a Bard of Rage even across his incredibly wide variety of iterations, and Batman happens to be a good example of a Knight of Rage.

All Bards of Rage must be clowns, no exceptions.

Actually, Gamzee has both Joker and Two-Face vibes, doesn't he? He essentially has two separate quirks now, and he's also insisting that he's 'both' of his Mirthful Messiahs. Sollux is gonna sue someone.

Anonymous asked: So if going God Tier is merging the conscience of the real self into the dream self, what happens when a real self is prototyped with something else? Does Aradia still have some frog in her?

I certainly hope she does, but we haven't seen any yet.

As you pointed out, this is technically Aradia's dream self, which was never merged with the Frogsprite. It's possible that some internal 'froggy' traits were carried over from her realself when she ascended, but it's impossible to say for sure. We still don't know how this alternate form of ascension actually works.

@tacticaltaxonomist asked: im not rereading myself atm but i love following along your posts as you do, thank you for sharing! Anonymous asked: it makes me really happy to see new readers and I hope u have a good time :D

Thank you kindly!

I'm happy to be back and in the swing of things, and I'm even happier that I've been able to maintain a decent pace so far.

@krixwell asked: For what it's worth, Jack did "spare" PM when she proved she had the guts to actually go and actually get him the white king and queen's crowns, even though he had every reason to kill her. She was a Prospitian, had visibly just killed one of Jack's best men, had gotten the seemingly useless physical crowns rather than carrying out the murders they were supposed to represent (Jack likely knew this, since HB saw her get the king's crown), and was demanding one of Jack's most powerful weapons in exchange – Jack had nothing to gain from leaving her alive, and a fair bit to lose by honoring a deal that he used to half-heartedly offer to basically anyone who visited his office. As Hussie put it in recap 2, pages later but not many, "[Jack] came, and [PM?] traded the two white crowns for the green box, Jade's present to John. He appeared pleased to uphold the bargain, either out of the misunderstanding that he was still under control of its contents, or out of respect for PM?'s tenacity and brutality in pursuing the prize. Only he knows." Around the same time, WV was also left as the sole survivor of Jack's massacre on the Battlefield. WV was standing front and center of his rebel army, mere meters away when Jack killed the Black King, so it wouldn't just be that Jack missed him. (Recap 2: "Jack then killed the entire rebellion army, sparing only WV?. Perhaps to leave a survivor to tell the story, or perhaps out of respect for a fellow mutineer. Only he knows.") Before he got so powerful, there's also the time he released Dad Egbert from Dersite imprisonment, after the latter destroyed his jester hat. So yes, Jack has been known to spare people, at least pre-Becsprite… but only he knows why, and Eridan wouldn't have had access to any of these moments through the Trollian viewport.

The droll is beckoned. The bargain, honored.

That's a good point. Jack does appear to have a sense of honor, and I do genuinely think that these gestures were motivated by respect.

Eridan, though, he'd have zero respect for. I guarantee it.

@burntheupholstery asked: homestuck filtered through your comments is so much funnier for me because - and get this - i don't understand even a BIT of computer science

Give it a few more Acts, and I'll get you up to speed. >:)

@ipunchvampires asked: Minor gripe, but it's a bit annoying to me that the "Alterniabound" walkarounds have an obviously-developer-intended order of operations, but make no effort to signal this to the first-time reader. Like the dialogue in "Past Karkat: Wake up" is written such that going around the room counterclockwise with Karkat, then Vriska, then Terezi makes the most narrative sense, yet it's incredibly common for people to start clockwise, and when they get around to Terezi, Karkat acts like he's hearing about the humans for the first time even though he's heard about them from every other character in the meteor. @morganwick asked: There are, in fact, different conversations available if you talk to Kanaya and Feferi/Sollux as Karkat; it's just the items strewn around the lab that have the same flavor text. @helium--hydride asked: Did you check all of the interactions in this flash? You can be Karkat, and I think there was an interaction between Karkat and Sollux/Feferi that you missed.

So there is!

Not much to liveblog here, but it's good to know in the future that all combinations of conversational partners will, as a rule, yield new dialogue.

Anonymous asked: it’s a fun story and stuff but what are your thoughts on the music so far?? i mean we all know megalovania but do you have any fave tracks that stood out? top 5? the HS soundtrack is so unique imo (mine so far is explore remix - dave and jade made it together on freshjamz)

We've got a big enough library at this point that I probably can highlight some favorites. I think my top 5, in no particular order, are:

Sunslammer

The Beginning of Something Really Excellent

Savior of the Waking World

MeGaLoVania (Aradia version)

Descend

@elkian asked: "Oh, for the love of peace. Is there anyone that this globe-headed chucklefuck doesn’t have in his pocket?" - I don't know if you intended this pun about Cue Ball Head but I cackled

That one was on purpose. The guy's still an orb!

@abibeur asked: Honestly I was expecting your reaction to be like Prak from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (see below) and I was not disappointed. “Tell us about it,” said Ford. “Oh, I can't remember any of it now,” said Prak. “I thought of writing some of it down, but first I couldn't find a pencil, and then I thought, why bother?” There was a long silence, during which they thought they could feel the Universe age a little. Prak stared into the torchlight. “None of it?” said Arthur at last. “You can remember none of it?” “No. Except most of the good bits were about frogs, I remember that.” Suddenly he was hooting with laughter again and stamping his feet on the ground. “You would not believe some of the things about frogs,” he gasped. “Come on let's go and find ourselves a frog. Boy, will I ever see them in a new light!” He leapt to his feet and did a tiny little dance. Then he stopped and took a long drag at his cigarette. “Let's find a frog I can laugh at,” he said simply. I can't believe Douglas Adams predicted Homestuck.

Can't believe Prak canonically learned about Sburb sessions when he overdosed on truth serum 😲

Anonymous asked: if bilious slick is the universe, then it stands to reason that the Vast Croak = the Big Bang

Or the Big Crunch, given that 'croaking' is a euphemism for dying...

@bladekindeyewear asked: AAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA WE WERE WAITING FOR YOU TO GET TO THIS REVEAL EVERYTHING YOU'VE SAID ABOUT FROGS HAS HAD US LAUGHING SO HARD!!! don't feel bad this hits every reader and liveblogger the same way and it's GREAT nobody guesses it, it's like we're laughing WITH you not at you i promise, and gosh even just YOUR LAST REMARK ABOUT THE DOOR DURING THE RECAP AHAHAHAHAHAHH Anonymous asked: /post/749478863076196352 "We finally get to learn the function of the House Door – and apparently, it leads directly into the newly created universe. Makes a lot of sense. This, of course, nixes my theory that it leads to Bilious Slick." reading that was the fucking TEXTBOOK DEFINITION of dramatic irony Anonymous asked: you: oh, the door leads to the new universe, not bilious slick like i theorized! kanaya: Bet

Oh, god, I didn't even think about that. The door does lead to Slick, just in a way that was completely impossible to predict. I'm giving myself partial credit for that one.

@sanctferum asked: after everything the troll's black queen went through as a result of her refusal to defile her being with frogness, it is incredibly ironic that she would be bestowed the universal load-bearing powers she was given by Scratch upon becoming Snowman - and in so doing, have her own life force directly tied to that of a Genesis Frog. And you just know Scratch was insufferably smug about it too

@galaxa-13 asked: When I first read Homestuck and there were mentions of ol' B. Slick or any frog I just glazed over it. Oh, OK, just another weird thing in this tapestry of weird. On following read throughs, when I knew the significance, I still just glazed over it. Yeah yeah, frog is the universe, moving on. So when you started questioning all the frogs I got giddy, because I knew that YOU'D have a bigger reaction than I ever did.

Yeah, I was so lost with those frogs. I definitely didn't suspect that the answer would be anything as monumental as this.

I sure fucking didn't, Kanaya.

@drakethedeep asked: Congratulations on reaching the genesis frog reveal! Now, what are your thoughts on the metaphysical implications that universes are living biological creatures?

It gels well with a theorypost I was sent before about how Sburb's timeline system may have evolved naturally over time. The idea that universes are biologically alive certainly lends credence to the idea that the entire reality of Homestuck is fundamentally organic. Maybe the entire multiverse is actually inside another, second-order cosmic animal...

(Because it's Hussie, that animal is probably a clown.)

Anonymous asked: about the Vast Croak: (from page 2308) “[Frogs] go by many names, and so does the reviled patron god they herald - THE GREAT DETESTATION, KING PONDSQUATTER, SPEAKER OF THE VAST JOKE, or most commonly, BILIOUS SLICK.”

I didn't consider that Vast Joke could just be a corruption of Croak.

If so, then I'm not sure why Aradia's referring to it as if it's an actual joke. Curious.

@mapswithoutwyoming asked: This is a bit of a weird message, but: I’ve been plotting a Homestuck fanfic, and I was getting confused about whether the lunar sways I’d assigned to the main characters made sense. I was so deep into orchestrating the interlocking and paradoxical web of events that changing it even a little would have had catastrophic ramifications, but I was starting to wonder if it wouldn’t make sense not to. But you referencing your theory about the dispositions made my earlier decisions click for me. thx

Happy to help! And when I'm out of spoiler territory for the fic, I'd love to read it.

@ben-guy asked: In regards to your joke about Jerma in the tags… man, just imagine him streaming Sburb. "W-what? No chat, I'm NOT going to- I'm not going to prototype myself. That's an atrocious idea. I don't even know what that means! Listen, it's just not happening. Okay. Okay, a million off the boon-debt" Just imagine… Jerma imps. They would be insufferable. Also, his server player gets to play Jerma's Dollhouse for real. TBH, the Dollhouse steam has some minor HS vibes already… Making me feel totally justified in sharing this classic HS meme with you

Look, we all know Jermasprite would happen.

Oh, man - and prototyping him turns all the Underlings into chat members, so that when Jack is watching his progress through the Fourth Wall, it also contains a live feed of Imps and Orges spamming 'next session'.

Anonymous asked: Hey, you're right, the trolls might not have gone through the brooding cavern trials, since they were delivered to the surface on meteors, not birthed in the caves. Which would mean that when Vriska talked about how she remembered her trials, she was just lying.

It's possible that the meteors were delivered directly into the caverns somehow, but that's definitely not certain.

Vriska's assertion is suspicious either way, though - would she really have memories from being a newborn grub? If the trolls could remember their infancy, then they'd already know they came from meteors.

@manorinthewoods asked: I was going to write something about Locked Home (HS chars in Canaan House) being in the wrecked troll session, but upon further inspection, I can't see an easy way to set that up without opening a few of WV's cans of worms. So, instead, here's a different question - since lighting the Forge would clear LOFAF's frost, would lighting Kanaya's Forge have cleared LORAF's rays? What would that even mean? ~LOSS (15/5/24)

I thought it could have receded her oceans, but you're right - the Forge's environmental changes might always be associated with its Land's named trait.

Maybe let's split the difference, and say that activating the Forge intensifies LORAF's rays, causing them to boil the oceans away.

@divineerdrick asked: Hello again! Just wanted to say how much I love your analysis of what Jade is going through with Jadesprite. In fact, it's a rare treat to see a first time reader dig into how Rose and Jade and the events around their Dream Selves affect them. But I especially want to congratulate you on again pointing out something I'd never really noticed, and that is how playful Kanaya is with the text in her conversations. It really is a great gag, and I never noticed how consistent it was.

Thank you! Yeah, a big part of why Kanaya is so great is that a lot of her gags are very understated. Half the time, you don't even read them as gags - they just scan as charming aspects of her personality.

@heliotropopause asked: "Actually, can anyone confirm at what point the fic will be safe to read?" It's been a while since I read it, and I haven't read the fragment of TSG act three that only exists on tumblr since I didn't know about it at the time, but I'm about 85% sure you'll be good to pick it up once you finish act five. The whole setting is built on lore from late act five, and while it references something from a ways into act six at least once, i don't think there's anything there that could rightfully be called a spoiler. (And when you're done with TSG, you can pick up Taz's husband's The Vienna Game, which is even better, though of course doesn't tie into TLT. It should be spoiler-free after page 4468.)

I've still got a while to wait, then - but not quite as long as I feared. Works for me!

@manorinthewoods asked: That image of Vriska demanding that WV not interfere is… really weirdly creepy, and I can't help but feel like I missed that whole sequence. I guess it might not have stuck with me because I didn't bother translating the Morse code - which I assume the Homestuck Collection can do for you, which is another reason why I should have used that. ~LOSS (11/5/24)

Yeah, my heart sank when I read that part.

I really thought Vriska was about to do something to hurt WV, which would have sent her careening down the tier list faster than you can say 'main character syndrome'.

@manorinthewoods asked: "Why, though? I had assumed that these stations were going to be used to restore civilization on this planet. How are they going to repair Earth with no access to technology? Surely they’re not going to start from scratch?" Bold of you to assume Earth will be repaired. ~LOSS (11/5/24)

Terezi seems to think it will - but clearly, the stations aren't involved.

Maybe the game thinks it'd be cheating, or that using Sburb tech to build civilizations would make them too advanced to be threatened by its meteors the next time around.

@necrowyrm asked: The only possible thing you can liveblog after homestuck is now The Earthbound Halloween Hack in order to experience the original megalovania in all it's glory

You are SO right. I'll also make a quick detour through Smash Ultimate, of course.

@adhd-coomer submitted:

LMAO, that literally is what that is, isn't it?

@captorations submitted:

my birthday cake from years ago (but not many... but not *not* many.) deadname nuked from orbit. my sister who got me into homestuck arranged it and maybe one day i will forgive her #for the cake or for getting me into homestuck? yes. #note: this is a joke i was/am amused by the former and very grateful for the latter

Yes, oh my god! That really is the perfect Karkat face for a cake.

I'm going to be brainstorming Homestuck meals for the rest of the week.

#full liveblog #act 5.2 #asks #man I need to reread h2g2

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