#and also: what do we do with this story etc

[nalyra-dreaming]

I've seen the episode!!!

(Some comments and) SPOILERS!!!!

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Louis saying it was a betrayal and that he wants to be punished for it just when he finds happiness again via a hallucination of Lestat is so... ugh. Louis, honey, god. Also him imagining Lestat biting him - as a punishment, but he also wants it so badly, baring his neck, not trying to fight it, offering himself up there, he just wants the connection so badly. 😭 And god, Louis having Lestat call him out on his own denial. Damn. And Louis knowing he invited this Lestat as a distraction.

Also... that was definitely foreshadowing to how Louis will think the trial went.

And of course it would be a bat. Of course.™

Claudia driving them onwards, not giving one shit is just... incredible. Delainey is Claudia.

I was also right that she honed her senses and available gifts, more than Louis has his (which fits)

Daniel calling their plight the hunt for Moby Dick

Claudia is also... beautifully hopeful, and thereby almost desperately (intentionally) naive. She just wants to connect, so badly. To find more of their kind. And closes her eyes to what she sees. *deep sigh*

That "Adam and Even and God" comment was hilarious. Oh man, I cannot wait to see what the show will make of / with QotD and Memnoch etc.

Not only is Louis aware of forgotten memories now, he actively pursues them, and he has apparently read the missing pages before. And knows he has forgotten.

Claudia's diaries are unreliable, too (as predicted). Also, Louis correcting his own tale there, lol. Also: Armand‘s look and suggestion there.

Daniel and his little speech as to how he works… you go Daniel. “Here’s almost all the story“ lol

“Human affairs“

The revenants.... "the blood is bad here" *shivers* - I BET that's already setting up the "turning fails" arc with Amel, right there

God that old vampire connecting with Claudia, and then throwing herself into the fire in despair. God.

Morgan's arc was nicely condensed, the scene fittingly horrific

I live for Claudia speaking all the languages, but I noticed some of the subtitles were wrong

Whoever doubted DM happening... well. Sorry, but I AM seeing it. The looks, the smirks, the bitching.

Also "real Rashid" (lmao) - who, btw, does not wear a mask! What if the encounter with Eudoxia Marius had went differently and this is Rashid?

... someone wanting to buy a tryptich they haven't even put up for sale... *coughs* Marius? *coughs* (I mean, who else would know they have it? Or the Talamasca, maybe)

God that Dubai bedroom screams cage. And Armand controlling even the lights with his little iPad. Someone edit a blender into a screenshot of that scene.

The look Lestat gives Claudia at that last part of Louis' little speech. Devastating.

Also: the "I do I do I do I do I do"... Louis. Sweetie. I mean, I get it, but still.

Armand's comment that the boy from San Francisco is still in Daniel. Now if that is not foreshadowing.

A propos foreshadowing: Louis saying he will not choose the fire while Claudia walks the earth. *help*

"We cannot be the only good ones". Yeah... about that. -.-

Louis being so relieved that what Claudia wrote was not the truth

The. Score.

Louis pacifying Armand there with the little touches at the end. LOL (the whole setup makes me wonder if ARMAND has also forgotten some things btw). Also that little thank you kiss

The Groan. Once more seemingly when Armand is displeased, so it could be a metaphysical manifestation after all, especially since Louis seems to comment on it. (It could also be a red herring, we'll see.)

Daniel‘s “we‘ll get to you“ to Armand (lol)

Louis‘ guilty look to Lestat when he tries to pep talk Claudia 😭

EDIT: there were two very short flahback scenes with a comment to memory, which is setting up the big one later, no doubt about it, ugh

I legit teared up so often.

I have missed them all so much.

It's all I wanted, and more. Cannot wait to scream about it with everyone.

Also, last but not least: can I just say how glad I am our writers are playwrights.

[indierpgnewsletter]

The 1980 Dallas RPG was a Soap Opera Wargame?

In 1980, SPI, a company known for its wargames did a strange thing and published an RPG based on the Dallas tv show. If you don't know anything about the tv show, don't worry, I will protect you. It's too late for me though. You go on ahead. Basically, it was a hit TV show of big money family feuding. Imagine Succession but it was written in the 1980s and instead of TV news, it was an oil company. Unlike the show, the RPG wasn't a hit. The art director of the game famously wrote that they printed 80,000 copies and that was 79,999 more than people wanted. That one person seemed to be this person's grandma who bought it for him to save his soul from D&D/Satan.

What is this game though? Well, James F Dunnigan, founder of SPI and designer of legendary wargame, Panzerblitz, seems to have applied his analytical mind to the internecine squabbles of Dallas and decided that, if you think about it, petty family drama isn't so different from CIA covert ops. And he was right.

As you'd expect from a wargame, the rules are dry and clinical to a fault. You start by picking one of the 9 characters from the show - JR, Jock, Sue Ellen, Pam, etc. They all have stats like Persuasion, Coercion, Seduction. And these stats have attack/defend values. For example, JR has a Coercion of 24 because he's a real jerk. Sue Ellen has a Seduction resist of 18, but it's 20 against JR, because again, he seems to have been a real jerk. This game genuinely went out of its way to make sure you know JR's wife really really doesn't want to go near him.

Each character starts the session ("episode") with a secret story-based objective. Jock wants to run an angry former employee out of town, JR wants to cheat an Arab oil magnate out of 100 million dollars, Sue Ellen wants to do a favour for an old boyfriend. Yeah, what can I say? Some of these objectives feel more important than others. Regardless, you achieve these objectives by controlling 4 or more specific minor characters and organisations by the end of the game. For example, to enact his 100 million dollar plan, JR has to control the Ewing Oil Company, Mustafa Quattara, Professor Bayard, the reporter Mary Cleef, and so on. But characters' objective overlap so Pam also wants Mustafa Quattara and Jock also wants Professor Bayard. These conflicting goals means players need to scheme, negotiate and attack each other so they can win.

The sessions play out in five rounds. Each round, the GM sets the scene. Then, the players can negotiate and make deals. Then, we enter the conflict phase where each player makes three moves - either trying to gain control of uncontrolled NPCs, or attacking another player to steal an NPC from under them, or protecting their own NPCs. And the game throws in little curveballs every round: Oops, some of JR's drinking buddies are in town and he can't say no to them, so his character is out of this round. Hopefully the player has some NPCs that they can use to act instead. Oops, Mustafa Quattara is being chased by assassins. Whoever controls his card has to give it up as he disappears for a bit and comes back uncontrolled. The end result is somewhere in between Vampire the Masquerade (or rather, Undying) and Blood on the Clocktower.

Sure, the math is dense (you roll 2d6 under the difference between the attack value and the defense value, plus or minus any currency spent). Sure, it takes 9 players to really sing. Sure, multiple people can complete their objective so you need to track victory points separately to decide the real winner. Sure, you have to take the homophobia out of the Seduction rules. Sure, roleplaying is completely optional. Sure, sure, sure. The game is a mess. But it's a very playable mess. I'd go so far as to say it's an electric mess. It's shockingly (sorry) fun to play. I think the secret lies in a very clear agenda for the players, a tight boardgame-like action economy, a premise that supports hilarious degrees of pettiness, and an inter-personal experience that demands everyone pay attention to what their friends are doing.

So. Am I planning a full 9 person play-by-post game of this? Yes. Am I thinking of changing the setting and the math? Yes. Is that basically designing a new game? Yes. Should this game be labelled "Powered by Dallas" or, as one of my players suggested, "Hornswoggled by Dallas"? YES.

(This was first published in the Indie RPG Newsletter.)

[ram-bam-writes]

Wisdom Teeth [Jake Seresin x NB Reader]

A/N: Per my parents recounting, when I got my wisdom teeth removed a few days ago, I cried in my bed because they couldn’t get paramount to play on my tv in my room. I wanted to see Glen Powell so badly that my parents had to dig around to find a charger for my computer so they could put it on… Twenty minutes later I have my laptop flat on my face while humming along to the soundtrack as the TGM plays… Ehehe :>

Summary: Jake’s partner gets all four wisdom teeth removed… Chaos ensues…  Based on personal experiences and made up ones. You guess which are which :>

CW: Wisdom teeth extraction, mentions of medical fears, mentions of blood, reader is suffering, Jake is being a little shit, hurt/comfort, no beta we die like goose, etc [The first part is the actual incident, which goes over fears and hinted past medical trauma, but the rest is lovely (irritating) banter between Jake and his lover. Blue will be everything to do with the angst if you wanna skip past it]

Word Count: 3206

“Honey…” Jake purrs, gently patting your arm in the middle of the waiting room. “Take a breath.”

It’d been several grueling minutes of staring at the clock on the pale wall of the oral surgeon’s office, foot tapping impatiently on the floor as you wait in fear for the extraction. You didn’t want your wisdom teeth out — you’d heard horror stories online. But they caused plenty of migraines and ear pain, and you absolutely needed them out when the bottom teeth grew in with cavities.

That, you decided, wasn’t fair to you at all.

But, alas, it pushed you to get them out. And the dentists advised to get all four out at once, since the top ones were also impacted. So it only made sense to get it all done in one fast sweep.

“Honey.” Jake says a little more firmly, gently grasping your hands. You blink up at him, eyes widened. “Sorry…” “Talk to me, hun. What’s up? They’ve done this a thousand times.” He points at the office wall. “And this is where I got my teeth out. You’re gonna be okay. They’re amazing.” As you tap your feet on the floor, you try not to think of the story your older brother had told you. He’d gotten his ripped out in the Navy, and they had him on not enough local anesthetics and, unfortunately, felt them ripping out his teeth one by one. Your biggest fear became feeling the pain or waking up in the middle of the surgery. 

“I know, I know…” Your hand squeezes his. You didn’t want to be afraid, but you’d woken up before, and your brother certainly didn’t help. He’d tried to — that’s why he told you his story. He was trying to express that he only went through that because, well, Navy. You wouldn’t deal with it. But that didn’t help.

“I’ll be right here every step of the way…” He promises, offering a reassuring smile.

The door besides the office opens, a blond haired dental assistant leaning out of it. “Seresin?”

You inhale shakily, standing up. Your partner quickly follows you, ushering you inside. They both get you situated into the white room, a set of crazy equipment set up in the middle of the room. The dental assistant sits you in a chair, then proceeds to hook you up to an EKG.

“Mmm…” Jake lets out a low purr as your shirt is lifted to attach the stickers. “You look good…”

As much as you want to glare or blush, your nerves take over. The EKG begins to read your heart beat, following the pulses and patterns effortlessly. But that sound…

Warmth blooms on your thigh as Jake runs a hand across your skin. His green eyes swirl with concern, smiling weakly at you. “Breathe.”

After signing a few too many agreements to acknowledge that you’re aware that tons of shit can go wrong in the healing process and that it won’t be the dental office’s fault, you’re situated more comfortably in the chair.

More comfortably? Maybe less so, given they escort your partner out all too quickly. Jake gives you one last kiss to the forehead, just between your brows, and slips out of the room reluctantly. 

The actual oral surgeon walks into the room, his smile friendly. He begins to talk to you about what you do. School, work, both? As you answer each question, he sets up the IV, admittedly a little rough on your right arm. He apologizes, unable to get the IV set up properly, resulting in him going to the left arm. 

As you attempt to keep your wits about yourself, the room swirls around you. “It’s… fine… I’ve had it in my-my hand once…”

When you attempt to explain the story of your hand IV incident, several pairs of hands begin touching your body. One around your neck, two around your legs, and two on each arm. Something is pressed against your nose, something choking your throat. The EKG is loud as it beeps, signaling your tachycardic state.

So you thrash. You thrash and thrash — they wanted to hurt you. With wild eyes, you frantically search around the room for anyone you can recognize, but it’s just several masked medical personnel. It isn’t until the oral surgeon pulls down his blue mask that you see a slightly familiar face, finally easing your breathing.

“That’s it…” The oral surgeon praises. “You passed out on us for a second… but it’s okay… you’re doing fine… you’re okay now…”

“I’m-I’m sor-so-sorry…” Tears slip down your cheeks as the oral surgeon rubs your arm to ease your mind. You can feel the soft hands of a sweet, younger dental assistant running through your hair, smiling gently down at you behind her mask.

“Don’t be… you’re doing just fine. We’re gonna give you the anesthetics, and it’ll be over before you know it…”

A sob shakes your body. “Please don’t let me wake up.”

“I won’t let you. It’ll be the best nap of your life…”

———

“The denshist was sho cute…”

A soft laugh resonates around you, but you can’t quite make out where you’re at or who you’re with.

“Yeah?”

“Yeash... the denshist was shuper cute…”

“Okay, hun..."

"Sho cute."

"Hun."

———

“Javy, can you help me bring them in the house?”

You knew that name. You knew that voice! People!

“That’s my boyfrieeeend!” You suddenly shout, leaning against Javy, incapable of standing on your own. You beam a bloody smile at the blond pilot standing across you, his arms held out in case you tumble. “That’s myyyyy boyfriend!”

“Jayyyy thasss my boyfrienddd!”

“I know.”

“My boyfrieeeend!”

“Y-yes!” Javy holds you tight, attempting to not drop you while he cackles.

“Boyfriend!”

———

You blink up at your boyfriend in a daze, Jake’s sweet smile staring down at you. He hands you a black table bell, one you had gotten him a few months prior. It reads: “If you hear this bell, bring me a beer.”

“Here, hun. Ring this when you need something from Javy, okay?” He pats your head lovingly. “I need to pick up your meds from the Pharmacy.”

He should have known better. Objectively, he should have known. You’re drugged! How can you not ring the bell seventy-million times in a row the moment you’re handed it?

“Hun.” A bright grin spreads across his face, his laugh warm as it swirls around you. “Don’t make me take it away, darlin’.”

The ringing stops. 

“Thank you.” He kisses your forehead as you set the bell next to your bed, eyes glimmering as you stare at the oh-so-tempting piece of metal. 

———

There’s a warm glow from the curtains as the sun slowly lowers behind the horizon line. Wind blows from the open window, the breeze comforting against your cold, sore body. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a normal morning after a good night with your partner.

And then the pain strikes. A thin set of lines in the four corners of your jaw are stinging. Jake, always a master of knowing your pain, rounds the corner to the open bedroom door.

“Ow…” You groan out, gauze stuffed in your cheeks. “Why…”

His calloused hands reach out and caress your neck. He doesn’t dare to touch your jaw, not in your current state. That’s a recipe for disaster he isn’t keen on making, actually. “Take it easy… you’re still pretty high on narcotics…”

“Ugh…” For some reason, your whole body aches something bad. It’s like you got hit by a truck. “Drugs…”

“Yes,” he laughs sweetly at you as he helps you sit up properly. “Yes, drugs. Good ones, too. Red caps, orange bottles. Good stuff.”

“Opioids…”

“Don’t talk much… the clots are still healing.” Jake gently wipes at the corner of your mouth with a wet cloth, removing the excess blood from your skin.

Is that why there’s so much gauze in your mouth?

“Let’s get you some new gauze, okay?” His strong arms help you stand upright as you lean most of your weight against him. An arm snakes around your waist, his lips pressing against the side of your head. “I’ve got ya…”

He leads you to the roomy kitchen, setting you onto the countertop. You instinctively spit out the gauze, something he laughs at. 

“Hun… unsanitary.” He earns himself a glare from you as he wanders to the sink. “I’ve got new gauze right here. Throw these ones in the trash, copy?”

“Floor.”

“Trash.”

“Floor.”

“Trash.“

“Floo-“He decides to interrupt you by pressing a rolled pad of gauze against your lips. Not hard, not at all. But enough to shut your drug-addled self up.

“Now bite down and quit bein’ a brat.”

You do as you’re told, mostly because your jaw is actually beginning to hurt from speaking so much. And when he hands you the good pills, the ones you know are gonna help fix most of those pains, you eagerly attempt to swallow them down with water.

“Babe-“ Jake inhales, immediately bursting out into laughter when the pill dissolves on your tongue, your mouth not quite working properly.

When your face twists in disgust as you try to swallow the dissolving pill, your partner’s fingers quickly grab the pill. He holds it in his palm, saving you from the horrendous taste. Down the length of your chin and neck is a long stream of wetness, none of the water that you had taken a sip of making it down the inside of your throat. 

“Alright, messy little thing, let’s try that again, hm?” He hands you a fresh pill this time, hand manually tilting your head back. “Once more, baby…”

———

Food.

You crave food.

Sustenance.

A soft knock echos on the door to your shared bedroom, Jake stepping inside with a paper bag. “I’ve got food!”

The speed at which you sit up is concurrent with the pure hunger your body feels. Jake can only laugh when your eyes, large and focused, stare at the bag of food, your nose working to figure out what food he has for you. Jake sits down on the bed next to you, gently pulling out small round containers of food. One large one, one small one.

“Doc says you can have mashed potatoes and gr-“ Maybe he should have expected you to snatch the container eagerly, drool slipping past your lips.

You were finally allowed to take out the bloody gauze pads, the clots beginning to heal. Not enough to eat normal foods again, but fuck if these potatoes didn’t smell like heaven.

“Just go slow, darlin’.” Jake helps pour the gravy into the mashed potato container and hands you a spoon. “Don’t want you poppin’ a stitch just yet.”

As you eagerly scoop up the first bite of savory mashed potatoes, you run into your first problem. 

You can’t open your mouth wide enough. To fit. The spoon.

The spoon clatters against your teeth, and Jake silently thanks the gods it was just a plastic spoon. And when you pout, letting out a strangled whine, he laughs so sweetly as he cups your jaw. 

“Struggling to fit that, darlin’?” He teases, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Here, let’s get you somethin’… smaller.”

He digs around the paper bag, this time pulling out a plastic fork. After scooping up some room-temperature mashed potatoes, he gently feeds it through the small gap between your jaws that you can manage. 

“Fuck…” You groan, the taste on your tongue pure bliss. Had mashed potatoes always tasted this good?

Jake laughs at your sounds. The way your eyes flutter and weakened smile forms has his heart thrumming right out of his chest. You’re his baby, and he loves every second of it.

“That’s it, hun. There’s plenty more where that came from.” He feeds you another spoonful. “Nice and easy. Swallow all of it, darlin’. No spitting.”

… Did he really just…?

You deadpan your lover, a bit of mashed taters still coating your lips which slightly dulls the intended effect.

Oh, the laugh he lets out is a boisterous one. Grabbing you a tissue and gently wiping your lips, he offers a cheeky smile. “Can’t help it darlin’. This is who you chose.”

“You’re so lucky you’re spoon feeding me.”

“Fork feeding.”

———

Day two of the recovery period goes a bit better. Since the mashed potatoes yesterday, you’ve been able to have really really mashed egg salad, cold ramen with cut up noodles, more mashed potatoes, and even room-temperature tofu. With the opioids you’re on, you can’t quite get the average hunger cues, which is probably in your best interest given the nutrients you’ve been living off of consist only of mashed potatoes, yogurt, and chicken broth.

Javy has come to visit, since Jake had a few errands to run and was never gonna let you stay by yourself. You’d known Javy probably longer than you knew Jake. He’s a close friend of yours, especially given that he’s the reason you and Jake got together. 

“Javy…” You whine out, leaning dramatically on his lap. “Will you please get me more food…? Jake’s killing me!”

The man in question pats your head, his eyes never leaving the TV in front of him. “Nope. Jake has you on the diet you need to be on.”

If it weren’t for him being your friend, you’d have smacked him a lot harder. But maybe, just maybe, you could complain long enough and get some pancakes out of him. The sweetness of syrup and carbs sounds so damn appealing that your stomach growls in need.

“I can’t take it anymore! Please! I just want pancakes!”

“Sorry, love.” Javy points over to the bowl of yogurt on the coffee table. “Not yet. You can have pancakes on day four.”

“Did he leave you a list?” “Of course he left me a list.” Javy offers you his phone, seeing the frantic, detailed texts from your partner. “Several.”

As mad as you want to be, your heart warms with how much your boyfriend does to keep you healthy and well. Without him, you’d probably have already popped several stitches.

“Oh, and, out of curiosity.” Javy tilts his head to look down at you, gently placing the bag of frozen corn on your cheek once more. “Do you remember anything about the oral surgeon?”

You blink.

“What?”

Javy grins. “The dentist that took out your teeth. Do you remember anything about him?”

“Um… he calmed me down when I freaked out.” You wrack your brain trying to think of anything else. “But… not really.”

“How cute is he?”

“WHAT?” You wince from the sudden shout, your stitches not very happy with you. “How-how what is he?”

Javy’s smirk turns into a full blown grin, his laugh echoing in the small living room. “You don’t remember? You wouldn’t shut up on the drive home how cute the dentist was! I think you told Jake like, eight times in ten minutes!”

Your cheeks burn, eyes wide as you swallow thickly. Had you really? 

“Jake was having a blast. You were so head over heels for the dentist you actually cried when we left. And then, as if the dentist never existed, the moment I pulled you out of Jake’s truck, you refused to shut up about him being your boyfriend.”

He pats your head affectionately. “You were hanging off of me and makin’ grabby hands at him. I’d never seen Jake so in love.”

Javy laughs when you hide your face with your hands, whining with embarrassment at the story.

“And that’s before the photo incident.”

“The w h a t?”

Maybe you shouldn’t ask.

“The photo incident, darlin’.” Jake’s voice carries across the room, shutting the screen door behind him with several bags in his hand. “I came back from the Pharmacy that day to find you layin’ flat on yer back with a photo of me n’ rooster stuck on yer face. Javy say’s you cried when I left, but a photo sufficed.”

He sets down the bags in the kitchen, leaning against the door to the living room with a lazy grin. “You okay there, sugartits?”

“No!” You hide your face once again. 

“Oh, don’t be that way.” Javy waves his hands. “Jakey here cried himself sick when he got his teeth out because his cat walked away to go eat.”

It’s your partner’s turn to becomes flustered, his golden cheeks tinting red. Jake points at his best friend, eyes narrowed. “To the grave. That was. To the grave.”

Your hands quickly fly up to press against your mouth, less to suppress you hysterical giggles and more to keep your mouth from stretching too much. Javy stands and gently moves you aside on the couch, grinning all to mischievously. 

“That’s my cue to leave-“ Javy gives the two of you finger guns, walking towards the door. “I’ll have the missus bring some shakes over later tonight, ‘kay?”

You sight, flopping back down onto the couch.

“Pancakes?”

Jake’s lips press right up against your forehead, his tone loving and affectionate. “No, little chipmunk.”

“I’m not that swollen!”

———

With day three rolling around all too slowly, Jake takes the time to cuddle you endlessly on the couch. He did his morning run, workout, and shower routine early, wanting to give you as much attention for the day as he can. 

While you pain is bearable, every few words you’d speak would be met with a sudden jolt of pain to your gums, right where the stitches had been. 

Thankfully, you had Jake to nuzzle into, his breathing light and easy as random movies play on the TV. His hands stroke your scalp, lovingly giving your waist squeezes every now and again. He’d gotten pretty good at recognizing your pain cues, especially the sudden sharp ones.

“Need some ice cream, hun?” Jake begins to sit up, but you tug him down.

“Mac. And. Cheese.”

He blinks. “W-what?”

“Macaroni. And cheese.”

“It’s… It’s not even ten…” 

Instead of responding, you let your eyes bore into his, the intensity and need for Mac and cheese shining through. 

“You’re like pregnant lady…” Jake shakes his head with a laugh, standing up and walking to the pantry. “You want the weirdest things…”

You flop against the couch once more when you hear the box of dried macaroni rattle in his hands, happy hums slipping past your lips. 

And then you hear it.

Crunch.

Your body immediately perks up, eyes narrowing in on the culprit and the crime. “What are you eating?”

“Chips.” Jake makes a show of shoving a large tortilla chip in his mouth, crunching on it loudly. “Wan’ some?”

You could punch the motherfucker for that.

He smirks as you stand up and round the kitchen counter. “Aw, wait, I just ‘membered…”

“You asshat!” You shout, giving him a good shove as you take the box of pasta out of his hands. “Go eat your chips in the garage.”

“Hun-“

“Nope! You’re being exiled! Exiled.” Jake laughs as you swat at him, raising his arms in mock defense. “Go! Get!”

This is gonna be one hell of a long, annoying, irritating recovery.

And you’re gonna hate love every second of it.

A/N pt2: Lemme know if you want another part as time goes along with my healing and how I imagine Jakey would deal with it as time goes on :>

[frozenartscapes]

Everyone’s talking about that P.O.W. line from the most recent chapter so I’m going to throw in my own (maybe crazy) theory:

It’s not about Anya’s parents. It’s about Yor’s.

Ok, hear me out: based on everyone’s ages, I would guess this takes place either just before the adults in the main story were born, or were very little. This flashback storyline seems to be taking place near the start of the war, however we shouldn’t assume that the rumoured experimentation wasn’t happening before the war started, either. So what if this experimentation wasn’t about getting a telepath, but rather a super soldier?

We know Yor lived in East Neilsberg but I don’t believe it’s been explicitly stated that her family is from there. Her mother was likely “from the South” due to her using a customary ingredient from that area in a recipe but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s from Southern Ostania. She could have come from the southern border region in Ostania/Westalis. On top of that, if either one or both parents weren’t from Ostania, it may explain why she has (supposedly) no other extended family within Ostania who could have helped her raise Yuri. No aunts or uncles, grandparents, cousins… Not even family friends or third cousins once removed. Have they all died due to the war/sickness/etc. or do they just not live in the country?

So, what if either both parents or at least just her mother were taken in as prisoners of war (either from being soldiers for Westalis or maybe even civilians from a border town swept away in the chaos). The experiments were to try and gain a Winter Soldier-esque weapon of war, and then preferably more of them to create an army. The experiments were extreme and killed most of the test subjects but Yor’s mother survived. And what if it was because she was pregnant?

She gave birth to a beautiful little girl, and then thanks to what the bastards had done to her and her motherly instincts being turned up to eleven, she breaks out with her child before they could determine if the experiments had any effect on the baby. Yor’s parents then escape to a quiet corner in the southeast of Ostania, believing it to be too risky to try to get back to Westalis. They raise their little girl with kindness and love, trying as hard as they could to give her a life free from the horrors they faced themselves. Eventually, they have a second child and all seems well. Both of their children are bright and happy and strong… Perhaps a little too strong in the case of the daughter. Even their son is more resilient than most kids. But their abilities aren’t the things that would make them the weapons those researchers wanted: it was who they were as people. And Yor is such a compassionate, innocent little girl despite her ability to bend inch-thick metal at the age of seven. And Yuri is so passionate and loving despite his ability to bounce back so quickly from broken bones.

But then they’re discovered. The parents do what they must to protect their children, and it works…but they don’t come home that night. Or the next night. Or the next.

Yor realizes what must have happened - that her parents had died while they were out running errands - and it left her in charge of the household. (And to go deeper: because their parents were trying to hide from the Ostanian government, they didn’t carry accurate identification so in the event something like this happened, officials wouldn’t be led back to their children. This is why no one discovered that there were two now-orphaned young children living alone and either forced them into a relative’s custody or an orphanage.)

And from there, we get to what we do know: Yor struggled to take care of Yuri until she was discovered by Garden. Her natural strength came in handy (but I also maintain that Shopkeeper also looks for specific personalities as well, so Yor’s unwavering bravery and her deep capacity for empathy and kindness also were key) and she was trained up to be on of the best assassins in Ostania. Garden would have done a great job in ensuring her super strength remained hidden by training her to control it better. It also would have provided the necessary cover and support to keep her and Yuri from falling into suspicion from the government.

Due to their desire to protect their children, Yor’s parents never talked about what happened to them. As far as she and Yuri are concerned, they were born in Ostania and are citizens of Ostania. (And technically that is the case for them both, although Yor’s birth certificate was forged since the scientists in the lab didn’t care enough about a baby that may not even live for very long to create one.) How they find any of this out, I’m not sure, but it opens up some interesting plot beats.

Yor would find out her strength really is unnatural, and that she’s technically a human test subject (but that would also further deepen her connection with Anya, and maybe would mean Anya would be more willing to open up to Yor if she hasn’t already). Yuri would discover that the country he’s been sacrificing so much for has not only tortured and experimented on his parents (and sister) but also is the reason they were orphaned (and all the hardships that came with that). Maybe there’s a chance then that one or both parents actually survived, and are just waiting for another conflict to be trotted out as the weapons that they are. Or there are relatives in Westalis who are more than thrilled to be reunited with their lost family.

(And this would work logically for the type of experiments these shady labs were doing: during wartime and the build up to it they would focus on things that would put them ahead of their enemy from a weapons standpoint. Focusing on boosting their armies’ capacities would be the priority at the start of the war. But toward the end, and then going into the Cold War, they would shift to intelligence-based research. Anya’s telepathy and Bond’s future sight would be more beneficial in a war of intelligence than an actual war, hence the shift toward that around the time that Anya was born. And I know Code: White isn’t technically canon but there’s a particular character in that movie that further suggests that Ostania was trying very hard to turn people into weapons.)

So yeah, that’s my theory (this became a much longer post than I first thought it would be).

[tumblingxelian]

RWBY & the Writers Plan?

Lots of people think and theorize on what CRWBY have planned to conclude RWBY's overall story and it is fun to theorize and read people's ideas!

A trend trend I've seen is for a subversive or deconstructive ending.

I won't outline anyone's specific ideas, but most involve avoiding the expected climactic battles in favor of words or work arounds, or a "the story goes on" vibe. This isn't in of itself bad, but I do have some thoughts.

I think people are far and a way too wrapped up on RWBY's opening monologue and "There will be no victory in strength" just as they were previously too wrapped up in the "A smaller, more honest soul" line.

Why? Because Salem & Ozpin are narrating, but they are also having a conversation and above all they are fallible characters within the narrative of RWBY, not omnipresent observers telling us the stories theme.

What's more, we already know what Ozpin meant by a smaller more honest soul. IE, his ideals of martyrdom & lone heroes on pedestals inspiring comfort in others & we see exactly how it turned out. Really badly.

Similarly, people assume Salem is talking only in the thematic sense as opposed to about Hunters, or machine armies, Maidens, guardians ETC, but she was, that's what the Divide clap back was about.

RWBY is indeed deconstructive and a story about stories and overall very clever, but it is also an action show where sometimes tragic villains get their asses beat, and some unsympathetic power houses get killed.

I don't know how RWBY will end, but I feel ignoring avoiding what RWBY is when theorizing ending scenarios doesn't do a theorist any favors in the long run, if only because cutting it out feels shortsighted.

[nightgoodomens]

i hope we’ll get more content of david and michael, but now with michael going back to wales i think it’s gonna be hard ☹️

We got most content when they weren’t together anyway - wherever they go they talk about each other plus pics etc. They will find ways, don’t cha worry ❤️ Nobody is putting breaks on this story anymore.

Also Michael is going to Cardiff for 2/3 weeks, not home. No idea what David is doing within that time 😉 And no idea what Michael is doing after.

Wait and seeeeeeee.

[emovulture]

New around here, I'm very much liking your blog and your bots! I am curious, I know what a furrys is but therian stuff is new? What is it? Sorry, kinda awkward at asking and stuff but I'm kinda unsure and shy about asking questions like this since it's about how people identify and stuff, it can be real personal. If you don't feel like answering it's fine! No pressure! I just feel like asking from someone who identifies as this is better than just looking up a definition. Continue with the cool blog and bots!

Aaa!! Thank you for coming to me with this question, I'm more then happy to explain! :3

A Therian is someone who involuntarily identifies as an animal on all levels except physical. Therians are fully aware that they're physically human, but mentally, they are an animal. Some Therians have had past lives, and some haven't.

Of course, there are physical non-humans. Although I don't know as much about them, from my understanding they are Individuals who do not identify as a human physically. (There is also otherkin, and such, but again, I don't know a whole lot about otherkin, so I apologize!!)

As you know, being a furry is a hobby, but being a Therian is an identity. You cant become a Therian like you can become a furry, you're born a Therian and can't just quit being one. We go through an "awakening" or sorts, and it's when you finally realize you're a Therian! Let's take me, for example:

(if you don't want a whole ass story you don't have to read this lmao but there is important information too)

I awakened last year, about mid-December 2023. A few years back (about 2021), I met a Therian, and at first I thought it was a little weird, but didn't really care enough to do research. Although, just about a year later, I remembered this person, and decided to watch a few videos, educate myself on what Therianthropy was because I was finally curious enough to care (I was a bit of an anti-Therian back then 💀)

After a while, i began to pick up on the some signs, and I recalled how I was like in my childhood; I liked to howl and bite, dig sand like I was a dog/wolf, I was very hyper at times and liked to run around, I liked to squeal and jump, etc. Sure, some of these were simultaneously just things kids did, but there were such obvious signs that I was very likely to be a Therian. And as of early 2023, I started to think there was something missing about myself, like I had yet to know who I was. And blah, blah, blah, now here I am, knowing proudly that I'm a Therian.

I'm sorry for blabbering on a out all of this, but I really think it's important to educate more people about Therianthropy, and to try to make more people accepting of it. Just like Furries, I don't think Therians will ever become "normal" to everyone, but it's worth a try.

I'd also like to remind everyone that Therianthropy is different for EVERYONE, and it's also not all about the masks, tails or quadrobics. Anyone can the masks and tails and do quads, but Therians are one of a kind.

[umbrellasareforever]

I don’t wanna sound like a Negative Narvin™️ but almost every theory I’ve seen about Ruby has her ending up being the daughter of either the Doctor or a companion of New Who significance (River, Rose, etc) and the absolute dread that fills in me at the thought of that being the twist is almost incalculable. The thought of it is just so boring and so uninteresting to me that if the final twist is something along those lines I will be so deflated.

Personally, I don’t have many theories yet but I stick with my original one and that is that Ruby is what I will call a Paradox Baby™️. This means that the woman dropping her off at the church, her “mother”, is actually herself and we never truly learn the origin of Ruby Sunday.

She doesn't trigger any sort of paradoxical effects by holding her infant self because she was always the one holding her infant self. The reason snow appears when they discuss Ruby’s origin is because reality can’t handle looking too closely at the paradox that is her existence. The Maestro was so unsettled by the (Christmas) song in Ruby because the song is representative of her paradox. It’s why the TARDIS makes strange noises around her every once in a while. Hell, it could be why the whole butterfly thing happened (regardless of what the Doctor said). She is able to exist because after Flux and everything with Swarm and Azure, time and space are nowhere as synchronous as they once were.

Finally, it all lines up with her line from the trailer, “It’s taken me all this time to realize what I’m meant to do. I’m going to save the world.”

Realizing that she has no past to speak of beyond that Christmas on Ruby Road, she needs to look forward to her future, her purpose.

And in a way this all sort of parallels the Doctor’s story with his past. He’s an “adopted” child with no idea of where he’s really from, but that just means all he can do is look forward to the future and what he’s going to do with it.

Hell, not to get too conspiracy theory, but it would also explain the music choice in the primary trailer. Changes by David Bowie is about how you can’t change time but time changes you.

That’s my working theory, at least.

[fictional-orphan-smackdown]

Round 2, match 1!

All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut

Peter Parker/Spiderman (He's from a lot of things)

Orphaned twice over

Both of Peter's parents are dead so he's raised by his aunt and uncle, his uncle dies as part of his origin story. His aunt often dies eventually too, but she may come back depending on continuity (ex. Peter in the comics made a deal with the devil to sacrifice his marriage and child to bring Aunt May back)

It���s Spider-Man guys. Coolest guy ever.

The Baudelaire Orphans (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

The epitome of orphans, they’re the best

“I’m having a very terrible childhood right now”-Klaus

The story deadass begins with them being told that their parents died in a fire and that they're orphans now. They then bounce from guardian to guardian who tend to always meet a gruesome fate at the hands of Count Olaf. Not only have they been orphaned once, but have been orphaned multiple times and are called "The Baudelaire Orphans" by not only characters in the book but by the narrator himself. They're called "The Baudelaire Orphans" so many times that it might as well be a defining character trait of theirs, and honestly it sort've is. The series doesn't even end with them finding a home or guardians of any kind, it ends with the Baudelaires fate being completely ambiguous with them literally sailing away from the island they were stranded on in the final book (yeah this series is quite the journey, I highly suggest it). These poor three kids are probably the most orphaned kids of all time since their orphaned in a new way almost every book and they deserve at least one win in their unfortunate tale.

These guys are like the poster-child of orphaning, we open the series with them finding out that they're orphans and also have no access to their money so now they hop around from place to place from weirdo caretaker to another weird/crazy/murderous caretaker and it's all fun and games and murder and decieving and surviving and thriving and---my point is, these three are a wonderful trio of siblings who love and rely on one another through all their trials and tribulations.

Literally every single one of their problems come from being orphans. They’re continually referred to as orphans and the plot of the first half of the series is them being shuffled around to guardians.

These kids are so orphaned they never even get a found family outside themselves. At least most stories featuring orphaned kids see them fulfill some sorta epic destiny or have them find a new home or set of loved ones of sorts. The Baudelaires? They're thrown from one fucking failure of a home into the next, ignored, hunted, etc.. It's been years but like, even in the end, they still have to set sail alone. As individual characters, they aren't bad either. Violet's the dependable big sister who's knack for inventions comes in handy, Klaus is a well-read chap and Sunny is a lovely gremlin. They make a good trio.

Every single guardian they try to obtain throughout the series turns out to be someone who wants the large inheritance left for them and is willing to do whatever it takes to get it.

They basically fend for themselves the whole series when no adult will listern to them. The whole series is them being resourceful and clever the whole series despite the misfortune. Violet is a brilliant inventor, Klaus reads and collects knowledge, and Sunny learns to be a good cook over the series

their parents die tragically in a fire and then everything awful proceeds to happen to them

I haven't read these books in years but if any orphans deserve to win a smackdown it's these fools, they are constantly in the trenches in those books goddamn. Also that baby is like a shredder they have that on their side, I think that beast literally solo'd a snake?

(This one was specifically for Klaus, but I'll put it here still) He and his sisters being orphans is kinda the point. As in many books, it's the trigger for them to change lives and navigating hardships. The thing is, their hardships just grow worse and "unfortunate" (read "dreadful") events keep happening to them as they stick together instead of the story getting better. Klaus and Violet become Sunny's subtitute parents and get through their more and more miserable lives together keeping hope things would eventually get better

Arguably more famously orphaned than Bruce Wayne, if not for how their story happens while they’re orphaned children versus an orphaned adult. Definitely have the most famously tragic post-orphaning story. All three are incredibly brilliant in their own way, including the literal baby. Pursued relentlessly by the leader of a maniacal theater troupe and letdown by a slew of adults, so it’s all the more impressive how amazing they each turned out to be. Book series was so good it got turned into a pretty great movie and then a successful TV show years later. Also can’t forget how these three are orphaned repeatedly as the distant relatives who take them in get killed off in increasingly inventive manners. Let’s be honest, ain’t no characters out here orphaning like the Baudelaire orphans.

this series taught me so many cool words and phrases and I love each of the 3 main characters so much

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny are peddled from caretaker to caretaker over the course of 13 books, always being chased by the evil Count Olaf who wants to steal the Baudelaire fortune that the children are meant to inherit once they reach a certain age.

Spoilers ahead, the Baudelaires siblings story starts with them going from being the Baudelaire kids to the Baudelaire orphans, after their parents pass away in a mysterious fire. But they arent the only paternal figures that they lost, they go from tutor to tutor, almost all the good ones dying in front of them, and even the ones that survive at first their future is uncertain since the last time the kids see them they are blindfolded in a burnind building, and we never found out who make it out alive and who didnt. Even the main villian, Count Olaf their first tutor, and the only constant adult in their life after their parents death ends up dying in front of them. These three are orphans ten times over.

They are THE orphans. They have lost not only their parents but multiple guardians that they went to live with as well.

They're THE Orphans. The childhood book orphans we all read, Orphans Prime if you will. They lose their parents, every caregiver who's ever kind to them, then say fuck it and live on a deserted island on their own to raise themselves abd fully embrace their orphan status. On the island, they learn their parents survived the shipwreck then died again - double orphaning even.

OH MY SWEET LITTLE CHILDREN THAT FUELED MY LOVE FOR READING AND THE MACABRE Violet- Won her first of many invention competitions when she was five with an automatic rolling pin (comprised of a window shade and six pairs of roller skates). Extremely innovative and genius, foiled by her kindness to others. And she knows how to make a Molotov cocktail. Klaus- Absolute monster of a bibliophile, conducts research for fun, and has a photographic memory. He is known to want nothing more than "a good book, a comfy chair, and the warm glow of a reading lamp". He also is a Herman Melville fan, which is points for him in my book. Sunny- Most people know her only for her penchant for biting, but Sunny is a distinctly distinguished character. She has sharp wit (as long as you can read it through her babbles), her poker skills are phenomenal for a baby, and she has quite the knack for cooking! Also yeah, the teeth. She climbed an elevator shaft with them once.

They are constantly going through it, give these kids a break for real

[nevesmose]

I don't know anywhere near enough about Sanguinius to metaphorically crochet him into a little finger puppet for my primarch fics but how about a little baseless speculation about him and Fulgrim? Please note that this is all based on how I view them in the universe of my silly little stories and is in no way a claim about knowing how they are in canon / lore.

I would probably a) portray Sanguinius as a genuinely sweet adorable cinnamon roll too precious for this world and b) have Fulgrim utterly loathe him because of this.

I tend to write Fulgrim as being a pleasant and charming person who, deep down, is about 50% a deeply broken overthinking ultra-perfectionist and 50% really jealous and vindictive. Please understand that this isn't me saying he's just evil and always was because it really really isn't. It's entirely possible for someone with these traits to function perfectly well in society and not be a bad person in any meaningful sense.

However.

One of his formative experiences as a primarch was almost losing his entire legion due to the Blight corrupted geneseed that almost wiped them out right at the start.

He had to build them up himself from nothing with the constant threat of annihilation both in the sense that "if I fuck up a war and lose however-many thousand Astartes in a terrible accident on the double-ended dildo planet I have no reserves or replacements" and also "every use of our geneseed is a gamble against the horrific mutation coming back and destroying us all over again". In that context the solution he turns to, and the only one that probably makes sense based on his prior experience on Chemos, is perfection.

Make no mistakes, ever, anywhere, because the cost of failure is incalculable, even if it means committing science-treason so you can purge all weakness from your own space dudes. It's not a desire for perfection based on arrogance, although he is of course immensely arrogant in a lot of ways, but one motivated deep down by fear.

People like to clown on Fulgrim based on Jaghatai's infamous "I hear you do strange things to your warriors 😂👌" sick burn, but to be honest, viewed from his context, what Fulgrim's doing is somewhat understandable.

That is if we assume that the Khan isn't just making a cheap insult but rather is implying he knows a lot more than would be preferable about Fabius dicking around with Astartes genetics in order to detect and eliminate carriers of the corrupted gene-seed so that the III Legion, one of the smallest of all numerically, can still survive. And then a lot of other things too because, like Fabius could believably say in one of the weirder McNeill stories, forbidden science is akin to the ancient Terran delicacy known as Pringles. Once you pop you can't stop.

With that in mind it feels like a lot of Fulgrim's post-heresy actions, not just the snake orgies but the general distance and lack of care for his sons, comes from revelling in just finally being free of that level of stress and pressure weighing down on him at all times. Even Perturabo doesn't withdraw from the Iron Warriors that much and he's a dick.

Anyway, back to pre-heresy days. He has all this going on and then in comes Sanguinius with his giant fucking angel wings who everyone loves and who turned his legion into One Direction (not really but you know... perceptions vs reality and no one in this setting actually communicates with one another since they'd probably have a lot in common regarding fears of being mutants etc)

It's the kind of thing that I think would feel like a dagger in the heart to someone like Fulgrim. Directly highlighting and literally embodying all of his fears about mutation and imperfection and yet somehow appearing to get away with it while he has to exercise constant control and do horrible things simply in order for his legion to exist.

So for that reason I think he would absolutely hate Sangy and do everything he could to undermine him.

"Oh no, brother! I've accidentally spilled this entire Big Gulp cup of bright red Tizcan wine all over your beautiful white wings, and only moments before you were due to make a speech to ten million people about how wonderful the Imperium is! Let me help you clean it up."

And then he pulls out a Looney Tunes sized bottle labelled Fabius's Finest Molt-O-Matic Guaranteed Feather Remover and starts spraying it on him.

[im-a-goddamn-cat]

I found your post "sorry (not) sorry" where you talk about asexuality and aces who say they love sex etc.

That post ended up on my "for you" and I'm glad it did. I wrote a reply in that post but I was typing too quickly and it was a mess. So I deleted it and decided to write a message instead.

I have to say that I agree with your post 100% and it's quite sad that your opinion is "problematic" in ace community.

Can aces have sex? Yes. Some say they do it solely to please their partners, which sounds very RAPEY. It's interesting how little we hear about the allosexual individuals, who might masturbate instead of having sex with their asexual partners.

Nowadays, it seems like everyone is obsessed with labels and twisting words to fit their own narrative. I'm not against labels, just use labels that fit you. A lot of times I feel like allos just use asexual label so they can preach how they love sex & they can show aces that they can love sex too like every other "normal" person.

Sometimes when I see someone talking how they never want sex or that they are sex repulsed there always have to be some "ace" that screams BUT DON'T FORGET ACES LOVE SEX TOO! WE LOVE KINK! WE LOVE FUCKING!!!

It feels like you're being erased, but erased by someone who's not even asexual.

I come to ace tags a lot, because I would like to follow some people, (also I come to the tags a lot so I can block bots that started spamming the tags) but it's always the same story. I see people who say they are ace but they also say things that show me that they are pretty much allos. It's sad because these people made me avoid ace spaces... because it really feels like 60% of them are allos who just use ace label. 30% are aces who don't want to be rude and they're like "all are welcome, all can use ace label!!! No one can tell you that you're not ace" and then 10% people just don't say a word because they don't want drama.

This is why people won't take us seriously because a lot of people who don't know much about asexuality hear just "I'm ace but I still love and enjoy sex!. And this is why some people think being celibate and being asexual is the same thing.

Sorry for a long message & my rant but it's RARE that someone who's ace actually say things you said in that post out loud... and it's refreshing to see that.

I don't really know how much we have in common but I will follow you just so I can read more of your ace posts in the future. Because I really need that.

thank you so much for sending this message, i'm really glad that my post resonated with you. and i agree with everything you said. it's awful that the asexual label/community has been overtaken by this narrative that aces can have sex even tho it's just false. it's actually pretty scary bc, like you said, it sounds so rapey. you rarely hear ppl adovacting for allos to have sex just to please their partner or for allos to have sex with ppl they aren't attracted to bc everyone recognizes how disgusting that is, but for some reason, ppl think it's normal and okay to do this to ace ppl.

i hate being one of those ppl who tries to tell others what their identity is but i truly do feel like ppl who claim that their ace but still want/enjoy sex aren't actually ace, they're allosexual who decided to call themself ace for some reason. asexual ppl do not experience sexual attraction so they would not be seeking out sex with ppl nor would they enjoy it. if someone claims they enjoy sex despite being ace, i feel like there's a good chance that they're not actually ace.

i've also seen the argument that "asexuality is a spectrum" for why aces can have sex but i'm gonna be honest, it seems more like it's allosexuality that is the spectrum; there's only one way to not experience sexual attraction (asexual) but there's many different ways to experience sexual attraction and there's nothing wrong with that but it doesn't mean you're asexual. if you experience sexual attraction, you're not asexual.

i've also seen ppl get harassed for saying that they're asexual which means they don't want to have sex and/or dislike sexual content and i've experienced that myself. i've made posts just talking about my own sexuality and have had multiple ppl who jumped in to try "correcting" me by telling me that aces can have sex, which again is false, and it just shows how creepy this attitude is bc why do ppl always feel the need to try forcing this mindset onto any actual asexual person they come across? it really feels like ppl are just trying to pressure ace ppl into forcing themselves to conform to allosexual society's standards.

anyways, i think you hit the nail right on the head, you're so right about everything. it seems that even the ace community has been overtaken by a compulsory sexuality and rape culture mindset and it's so sad. this is supposed to be a community for ppl to celebrate and bond over their identity and yet you have so many ppl either trying to coerce asexual ppl into having sex and/or ppl who aren't even asexual who are claiming the label and twisting it for their own weird narrative.

thank you so much again. 💕 ik it sucks and it makes me sad and angry that ppl do this awful stuff too but always remember that there is nothing wrong with who we are and that we should try to stay positive and fight against ppl's acephobia as much as possible. 💕

[rawliverandgoronspice]

I think I have the full outline for Thralls. ;;

[frodo-of-the-nine-fingers]

i think the actual disconnect between nie mingjue and jin guangyao is that nie mingjue is dying and knows he's dying and has to stick so so so closely to his morals and virtues or else it'll have been for nothing and then he'll have to come to terms with the fact that maybe he didn't actually have to die after all vs jin guangyao who wants to live, he wants to live and be safe and have all the things he was told he could never have-was told he was never good enough to have-and will do almost anything to make it so. and these are two like irreconcilable point of views right (and both Correct and Wrong at the same time) and so they can't understand each other because they aren't even having the same argument and neither of them can see that

[time-is-restored]

btw not to make everything about My Fucking Guy but i honestly think one of the things that seperates q!phil out from the other islanders is the approach he takes to dealing with the lack of agency + control all the islanders have over whatever the fuck the federation's doing.

it shows up most prominently whenever tubbo is excitedly telling him about the 'progress' he's made with cucurucho or various investigations (ie: trapping him into a corner with the 'do you have free will' questions), and phil always shoots it down w an immediate 'that doesn't mean anything. curucuho will say anything to mess with you. you can't take anything he says as true.'

and it's not that phil is... a paticularly pessimistic character? he's just EXTREMELY practical. like, he's yet to give up on anyone EVER finding ANY answers (he was the one who initially gave the federation that one week ultimatum w the cage for a cage stream), he just doesn't trust the idea that curucuho is ever going to voluntarily give them. they're uncontrollable + senseless - you might as well argue with the weather.

and like, if that's how he sees the one (1) and only point of contact the islanders HAD with the federation for months, it explains a lot abt his characters lifestyle! ofc he sits on the wall all day, talking to his kids, and keeping his head down. he believes that the federation wants nothing more than to drag the islanders into sick games + tasks just so they can fuck with their head (ie: curucuho revealing he was the one cellbit gathered all that information for). and while he can't totally PREVENT any of that from ever impacting him, he can make sure his kids are well fed, well protected, and as happy + comfortable as he can manage. this is objectively not a perfect situation, there is a guaranteed amount of suffering + fear that he can't mitigate, but he can at least account for it.

like, he REFUSES to engage. whenever curucho shows up, he treats them with total ambivalence. he's not going to get riled up by anything they do, he's not going to get super attached to the guy, he's just gonna laugh it off and irish goodbye it when things drag on. the ONLY time he's strayed from that general guiding principle has been since he's lost his eggs, and can no longer afford to let the federation's fuckery go: those are his fucking kids.

hence the completely unprecedented levels of outward rage and sadness and terror he shows throughout the birdcage streams - almost all directed directly to cucurucho. it's all a completely fair + proportional response to the horror the islanders are being subjected to, but it feels so different bc until now, q!phil has been so dedicated to not reacting, and not giving the federation any sign that they're actually getting to him.

[vaxxman]

I have so much brainrot about Medic's wife, specifically the design from the comic doodles that Makani drew, I'm so ready to draw a whole comic about her, man I love hallucinating.

[even-disco-baby]

YOU — “No. There is still a chance.”

DOLORES DEI — “You think so?” Her voice is weary.

EMPATHY — Everything about her is weary. She is the Innocence of weariness, of heroically borne suffering.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — That is the picture you have painted for yourself, at any rate.

YOU — “You looked back. That’s the memory, the moment, that I can’t stop returning to. You looked back. I had a chance, for just that moment…”

DOLORES DEI — She meets your eye, gaze still forever cast back over her shoulder. Time stops. The stars are stilled, the ocean silent. There is *nothing* beyond this memory. Nothing at all. All of infinity is contained in this single moment when anything and everything was possible.

“Oh, Harry…” She sighs, soft as eiderdown. “We never had any chance.”

And just like that, the wave of time collapses under its own weight, obliterating everything. This moment was six years ago. She is gone from here. Gone, gone…

PAIN THRESHOLD — You cannot leave. There was nothing outside of this moment, and now there is nothing at all. It’s all gone. There is no point. I’m sorry. I can’t do this any longer.

VOLITION — Please, don’t say that…

“Okay. Well, fuck me, then.”

“How would *you* know?! You gave up! You didn’t even try!”

“We *must* have had a chance, at some point… Doesn’t everyone get a chance, if nothing more?”

“How could you say that…?”

DOLORES DEI — “Because it’s true,” she says, matter-of-fact. “There is no moment in time that you can turn back to, no branching paths, no infinity. There is only what happened. I looked back… and then away.” She closes her eyes, turning her back to you.

“The moment ended. *We* ended. That is all.”

SHIVERS — A wave crashes against an unseen shore, ocean spray tickling the back of your neck. You shiver, but no one shivers with you. You are alone in this intersection. Why are you here?

“Why can’t *I* end?! Why can’t this all just stop? Please, make it stop…”

“Ended? I’ve barely even started! I got a chance to start completely over as somebody new! I don’t need you anymore! You’re just dead weight to me now.”

“No. That wasn’t the real ending. We’re a part of something so much bigger than this intersection, telling a story that encapsulates all of history! There’s *more* to this, it *means* something.”

“Then… What am I supposed to do now…?”

DOLORES DEI — “No, Harry.” She turns back to you again now, and she looks… sad.

“We were not metaphors. We were people. Our narrative was not intelligently designed. It simply followed the patterns of history, because those are the only patterns we *know.* We tried to create something new, but we failed. There is no narrative reward for our failure, no satisfactory ending. There is only the immutable past and the unknowable future.”

RHETORIC — There is no assurance of what is good or deserved or what may bring relief. There is no assurance of punishment, either. There is no assurance of anything. Not even of a future. I don’t know what to say to make this bearable.

VOLITION — Even so… As long as you live, *something* is promised. Can you live with that?

I can’t, I just can’t do this anymore…

I can. It’s enough.

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I can at least try for a little longer…

VOLITION — That’s all I ask. That’s enough.