#but i cant live react to all of it ill just be incomprehensible

[natsmagi]

wait i'm reading the same live tl and "T: Oh no, I was physically blessed and healthy despite everything, so compared to your childhood, Sora— T: Wait, right, these things aren't to be compared with anyone else."

happy elements if you don't elaborate on that

NO RIGHT I GOT HUNG UP ON THAT TOO. LIKE WHAT?????? SORA LORE DROP WITH NO ELABORATION??????????????

happyele was sora a sick child is that why he was a hikikomori. did sora have some disability. DOES sora have some disability. happyele listen to me. the thought alone makes me so sad omfg not ONLY did sora feel like an alien bc of his perception of the world being different due to synesthesia but now ur telling me, if going by tsumugis words, he wasnt "physically blessed and healthy" ?!?!?!?!?!?!??! BC THEN THERES AN EVEN SMALLER LIKELIHOOD OF HIM BEING ABLE TO HANG OUT WITH THE OTHER KIDS WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER EVEN IF HE AND THE KIDS WANTED TO im going thru it so bad

[fagwolf-archive]

benrey and gman species headcanons!!!!

so i was thinking about benreys abilities and as i wrote out headcanons i decided u know what. i think benrey and gman are the same species. so here are some thoughts about their species:

- massive eldritch horrorterrory creatures, literally incomprehensible to the human brain. youd probably die if you saw their true forms, your brain would just overload and shut down

- so to exist in the science teams universe, they make themselves appear humanlike juzt so they dont accidentally kill people. also just for practicalities sake - way easier to walk through a door if youre human sized hsjfkhsdjk

- ofc they only LOOK human - theyre still all fucked up and monstery and can shapeshift. gman is older than benrey and has pretty much full control at all times over his form, benrey meanwhile struggles a bit to maintain it and forgets stuff about humans - like that their limbs dont bend that way, or their heads cant turn 180 degrees, or that they only have one row of teeth

- they are a mainly Predator Species and so a lot of their biology fits this!!!:

- bioluminescent eyes act as lure like anglerfish - and also sweet voice! ill go a bit more into sweetvoice in a moment but in hunting context, its used as pretty, hypnotic lure for prey and also to calm prey and induce docility and prevent fighting back (benrey doesnt rlly hunt so he just uses it to calm down gordon when he thinks hes too mad)

- benrey in particular’s “huh? whuh?” thing is cause natural predator instinct to hyperfocus on one thing coupled with Neurodivergency means he finds it really difficult to switch conversation topics or pay attention to multiple things at once.

- i thought a lot about communication as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:

- their species has 3 basic forms of communication, or at least those are the 3 ive thought about:

- 1 is nonverbal - thats a LOT of their communication. body language, certain types of blinking or finger movement etc communicates tons. just like a species like a cat or rabbit.

- 2 is how they talk to their young. again, like cats, eldritches have a reserved form of communication (like meowing) for their babies. this is telepathy - they use it to talk directly and comfortingly to their kids and to immediately figure out what they need. this has also evolved into how they talk to humans - like cats meow at humans cause they see them as big babies.

- and eldritches dont actually speak english, they telepathically convert their language to whatever the humans mother tongue is, projecting the language straight into their head. annoying comparison, but like the tardis’ telepathic field in dr who.

- added onto this, this is why benreys english gets worse when hes emotional. e.g: “im a great cool, so now i gonna be bad”. he struggles more to keep up the telepathy when hes upset or ecstatic, so his english sounds more distorted.

- and ALSO benrey forgets as well that humans cant communicate telepathically. hell respond to something someone thought or read their emotions and react accordingly/get them what they need and he’ll be SO confused when theyre like “wtf how did you do that”

- 3 is SWEETVOICE!!! this is a big part of all assets of their language - its a simple ingrained way to communicate simple emotions and greetings etc, like “nice to meet you” “i like you” “i am feeling angry, dont talk to me” etc.

- gman doesnt use it as much because its generally considered a more simplistic and childish way to talk, as its the first way children learn to communicate outside of telepathy to express their basic emotions. benrey uses it a lot because he Likes It!!!!!!!! it easily expresses what hes trying to say.

- this is also why tommy knows how to read sweetvoice - personally i believe hez human and was adopted by gman but gman still taught him how to read sweetvoice. as hes adopted he cant do it himself, but hes the one who understands benreys communication the best cause he was raised by an eldritch

- the skeletons!! eldritches can create entities to assist them, theyre not living creatures they only exist while the species wants them to. benreys are the skeletons - they help him in the final battle and everything.

- benreys also a younger, weaker eldritch than gman is, and uses his skeletons in a slightly different way. the skeleton that asks gordon for his passport isnt ACTUALLY benrey, its an entity benrey has created while hes temporarily dead to project himself out of while his actual form is rebuilding itself in Limbo.

- i believe the whole thing gman was saying about benrey needing to be contained and everything after he was “killed” is just cause hes an abnormally immature/emotional eldritch, and is pretty outcasted and chaotic as far as things go. like usually these creatures are out being Space Diplomats or apex predators or smth meanwhile benrey just likes Being Around Humans And Playing Video Games :] hes looked down upon a bit

[cloakedandsoaked]

Celestial North

It was warmer than Dantalion was used to it being, when he visited this place. Barely below freezing, in fact, and the ice was thinner than he would have liked, though there were still several metres of it separating him from the sea below. A glance skyward showed he was as close as the stars could guide him. He would travel on foot from here, and rely on his other senses to find his destination. 

A few kilometres north, he stopped. The feeling of the entire earth spinning directly below him couldn’t be faked.

He cleared a circle some twenty metres across, and smoothed the surface down to a perfect sheen with a wave of his hand. Only the keenest of eyes could spot the reflection of the Cynosure and the surrounding sky, but Dantalion had keener eyes than most. The star declined farther away from the celestial pole than it had sometimes done in the past, but closer than usual. In fact, of the hundred or so times he’d made this journey, only a dozen saw the five-fold light of Polaris as the North Star at all.

When everything was prepared, the demon sat and rested for a moment.

He sipped from a verdigris can that could only be described as incongruent. He would need his strength, and tonight, strength came in the form of aspartame. Chilled fingers drew small loops on the ice.

<You're late.>

The voice caught him off guard. (The voice didn't catch him off guard.) 

The voice seemed even colder than he had expected, laced with a familiar irritation that he probably should have expected. (The voice was exactly as cold as he expected, and, indeed, could not have been otherwise.)

The voice spoke directly to his mind. (The voice, as is most apparent to us outside viewers, was from his mind.)

A figure appeared in the center of the circle, only a meter away, mirroring Dantalion's pose exactly.

Dantalion didn't allow his gaze to linger for long. "I'm sorry, Teacher. I was-- " He reached for a lie: I was tending my garden, and found his mind forcibly redirected to the truth: my library.

<As well as usual?>

"No."

<No.> There was no judgement in the agreement, merely a quiet acknowledgement. The figure tilted its head. <What are they like?>

Dantalion flinched. His forced hallucination was going off script; that was never a good sign. <~A dead tree's root system holds the earth together, and provides a home for many creatures.~> He sat his soft drink aside. <~Honeysuckle and lilac grow on the banks of the river. The waters rise again and again, but each year, the flowers return. The river becomes rerouted by a dam. // Fire, and fire, and fire. // A man follows a mirage in the desert, and finds water. // A copse houses many small creatures, but its resin burns at the cars parked below. // A dust devil. A meal tainted with ash. // A broken pane of glass. // An open cupboard reveals that the mementos within are now moth-eaten. Sour cherry candy, melted, blisters the skin it touches. // Rum burns in a throat and belly. Heirloom china is broken without a thought. // A hatchet strikes a wrought iron fence. Sparks fly. // A grain of wheat gives way beneath a mill. Bread comes later. // Fairy lights and grave dirt and blood and sugarcane. // A flame that appears small, but is really just far away. // A would-be martyr considers recanting.~> He paused, grimacing as he drew out the last image: <~A garden, scorched to the soil, is never replanted. In place of new life, a gift of honey is spilt upon the ground.~>

Is this good enough? It's not an excuse, but is it worthy? Two hundred thousand years, two deaths, and a very long reconstruction had failed to temper his desire to please, even as he tried to stifle the thoughts.

The other figure gave no answer, which Dantalion at least knew to take as a genuine lack of an answer. <Why are you here?>

Dantalion pondered the point for a moment, images flashing through his mind -- crisis, confusion, brokenness, despair -- and tried to find the trail that would lead to a true answer. <I think I broke something vital in me. I need to find out when and why and how, so I can fix it.>

<You noticed you were confused,> the other voice summarised, not incorrectly. 

Dantalion felt his mind suddenly enveloped as if in an embrace, and let himself be taken in whole. This was why he was here, uncomfortable though he knew it would be as his own recent memories began swirling around him like a smoothie in a blender, a trillion thoughts and feelings and sensations reeling about at incomprehensible speed. He knew better than to try and grasp at any individual one, as the disorientation would grow exponentially. Instead, he waited (minutes? surely it could not have been hours) for the spinning to slow to a comfortable twirl. At this speed, he could see the memories tinged with crisis almost as if they had a separate color filter laid upon them, instead of the color being smeared into the total. Spinning, spinning.... stop!

The whirling came to an abrupt stop, one memory focused in his mind: the first domino in the particular line of crises that currently held him hostage. Bingo. But unexpectedly (unexpectedly!), the spinning began anew, disallowing his mind to find purchase in the memory, disallowing any of the analysis he had come to this place expecting.

Another crisis memory presented itself. A pause. 

Again the spinning, again a pause.

Again.

Again.

Addled beyond all prediction, Dantalion grasped at each memory, striking out for purchase with the grip of his mind, only to be forcibly ripped away each time. Each furious pull was agonising, in a way the demon had never experienced pain before, not in his entire existence.

Again.

Again.

Suddenly the voice thrilled across the surface of his mind in a violent bellow. (He had never heard that voice bellow. Such a thing seemed anathema.)

<WHY ARE YOU HERE?>

Stunned, Dantalion skittered back from the other figure in the circle, bum never leaving the ice. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

<Why are you here?> the voice repeated, still firm, but (blessedly!) no longer shouting.

The demon, now shaking as if from the cold, took a deep breath. "I notice that I am confused!" he spat. Somehow, repeating his part in the script forced the crest of terror in his gut to ebb into a thing closer to soft alarm. This was what he had come for, not whatever-the-fuck had just happened.

<Let us try again.> This time, the other mind grabbed Dantalion with all the subtlety of a typhoon, pulling him under and into the maelstrom of his own memories.

Gasping and flailing against the current, the demon took his next breath as the churning slowed once more, stopping at a very familiar memory. This time, the greenish tinge of crisis was minimal. Instead, the memory glowed golden with contentment: A folk-styled resort room in Finland, burrowed beneath a stack of blankets with someone he loved. Dantalion clung to the mirage as if to a life preserver, sucking in the warmth like a man's next breath.

He cried aloud when he was ripped from it and thrown into the chaos once more.

The next stop again featured a bed, this time a hospital bed with a lovely, if wan, redhead within. He was bent over her, and this time saw the scene from two impassioned directions. Then, before he could so much as react, he was flung back to spinning.

Again. A London flat.

Again. Magical hands in thick fur.

Golden memory after golden memory, each torn from his bleeding mental grasp like a toenail ripped from its bed by a particularly unforgiving kerb. His physical form sobbed, collapsing forward onto the ice in supplication. <Make it stop, Teacher!> But it did not stop, and the pain continued with each memory shredded from his consciousness.

Some two dozen memories in, he finally submitted, letting his mind be heaved and hurled every which way without resistance, taking only the shortest moment of solace in each pause before the disorientation began anew. Still, it did not stop; fond moment after fond moment found him, all within the past decade. Nor did the confusion cease, for each memory was followed by the careening press of time and rhythm and ways to live that interspersed the few moments of genuine joy he was allowed.

Surely, this time it had been hours when the spinning slowed to a final and complete stop, spitting Dantalion back into himself, a ruined spectre to inhabit the body lying prostrate on the ice. Sense was truly beyond him, now, and with it, speech; he was unaware of his own mental howling, a cant consisting only of why-why-why-why?

Only minutes, though, did it take for him to come back to himself. He grasped for the memories, making sure each was still in its designated place. Safe. They're safe. His mind was still its own. Wild confusion lit his eyes as he dared a glance up at the other figure, who was still sitting quite upright, quite unbothered, quite normal (as much as such a creature could be called 'normal' in the first place). Dantalion flinched when the voice arose once more:

<Why did you fight me so?>

Pain, again, and this time a pain of the heart. They were never meant to be opposed. Not in the beginning, when there were truly two of them, and certainly not now. Why are you here? The question echoed in Dantalion's mind, with no voice needed to call it forth. And then the pain was joined by shame.

"Is this the lesson, then, Teacher? Am I set against myself, a clinging, pathetic thing? No great crisis to undo the Great Duke Dantalion, merely the inability to let go of the past, good or ill?" It was a bit of an intuitive jump, accepting the horrible thing he had just experienced as an object lesson rather than a direct attempt at correction, but, well. They rather did know one another's language. "Have I come all this way to be merely kicked down the road like an empty tin can that doesn't know its place?"

Of course, he was allowed to be a touch bitter, if the mental construct he put so much effort into creating was allowed to torture him. Or so he reasoned.

<Let go,> the voice adjured, though it carried the weight of a command. Such things always did.

Dantalion pushed himself up, grabbed the can of soda which had emptied itself onto the ice in the fray, then stood and brushed the stray crystals from his clothing. He stared at the other for a long moment, heavy with spite and tenderness.

Then, in a blink, both figures were gone, and the circle held only Fresca and starlight.

[edengarden]

hey man when you have the time can i pwetty pwease get a music matchup!

3 positive traits of mine areeee: brave, resilient and friendly!

3 negatives are: obnoxious, stubborn, extremely distrusting

my hobbies include: true crime, baking, reading and crying over video games

my music taste is mostly rock, other close faves are metal, punk, folk anything super upbeat but depressing and indie! though as for most people im open to all kinds too uwu oh and i know its not a genre itself but im also a huge sucker for songs where the singers get so into singing they have that kind of loud yell/growl in some parts of it? i ascend to another realm when i hear it tbh, sorry if thats like incomprehensible orz

what i look for is kindness, sincerity, humour and passion tbh

things i dont like in people are mostly just genuinely mean people who feel the need to put others down. not in a joking friend asshole way but in a genuinely malicious way. cant stand em, i can will and have gotten into fights with these ppl. why be mean when u can be... nice and help ppl and make them smile like... i just dont get it.

my big three star signs are taurus sun, cancer moon and pisces rising. idk jackshit abt but ppl call me baby bc of it and i am NOT a baby! i may look like a blue haired version of the aDAM vine guy but!! im not baby, i am bastard if anything.

im also an entp-t if that uhhh helps.

fun facts about myself, uh im super good at reading people irl, im a human lie detector and it freaks people out. this uh.. does make me have trust issues.

i once got into a fight in a library with a group of people bc they were blackmailing one of my friends. i subsequently got kicked out but! i did win and my friend wasn't harassed by those ppl ever since.

oh im rly good with animals, i have a reputation where i live for taking in animals and helping them find their homes!

im very loud and stupid, it bewilders people how stupid i am. ironically ive got medals for academics. you wouldnt think that of someone who quire literally kept pushing a pull door in front of three people and proceeded to say "damn :/ i think this door is stuck" and then immediately have one of those people silently pull the door open and... man you can imagine the faces they all gave me. orz.

ooookie dokie i think thats it! sorry if this was too much! if you want me to elaborate or need any help deciphering my bullshit ill call myself 💥anon and ill try to help anyway i can

anyway thanks for your time i hope you have a fantastic day!

GROWLINF SINGERS ARE THE BEST I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOOOODDDDDD. I GET EARGASMS I SWAR THE EMOTIONS ARE OFF THE CHARTS-

Also, you sound like a MOOD. I’m a Taurus sun too UwU

I’d match you up with Semi!

Okay I know this sounds like a rough match but listen, listen... your taste in hobbies and music is IMMACULATE to him. Kudos to you, he respects the fricken drip.

I can also very easily see you two cuddled up on the couch late at night and watching buzzfeed unsolved?? Like that’s your ideal date??

And Semi finds your “stupidity” so endearing?? For some reason?? Like yea he’s gonna scold you for trying to push a “pull” door but oh my god he can’t believe that you’re the same person who’s acing all their classes, it’s mind-boggling. You’re his little phenomenon.

Semi will always go to you when he gets song inspo. Whether it’s lyrics or instrumental, he wants your opinion on the matter even if you’re not that music oriented. The only thing is he might get a bit shy showing his work to you if you’re mentioned in the lyrics or if it’s obvious that the song is about you. Please praise the poor boy he’ll deny it but he’s melting and/or blushing. If he manages to get some funky growl vocals or instrumentals, or REALLY good chords and dissonance and you react in any way (whether it be a gasp or a literal pterodactyl screech), he’s gonna feel so proud omg omg from now on his goal is to get that reaction from you as often as possible.

Thank god semi isn’t a “I’ll hold ur flower bby you go beat up the assholes” type of boyfriend bc you’d get in trouble so often?? I think Semi would cut the bullshit and remind you that getting hurt over that isn’t worth it. He’ll physically hold you back if he needs, I swear. But usually, he’s got the words necessary to explain to you that no, throwing hands in this situation will not improve it at all so please don’t go punch a nazi in the face you can just film it and call the person out so that the world can see. Semi’ll help you find out who they are and together you’ll report them to their workplace and have them fired. Semi will teach you the ways of cunning revenge.

Songs!!

- Sons of the Silent Age, David Bowie (THE EMOTIONS THE EMOTIONS THE EM- Semi practically mastered that song because the two of you sing it so often)

- The Dogs of War, Pink Floyd

- Owner of a Lonely Heart, Yes

- Money, Money, Money, Meryl Streep, Julie Walters & Christine Baranski (the growl you’ll love the growl and so does Semi)

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

I really am sorry that you didn't enjoy 'our chats' as much as I enjoyed them. You're really good at keeping your cool, you know that? At making it seem like you're doing okay when you're not doing okay, like the things happening are okay when they're not really okay. It'd probably be hard to live your life without a firm handle on that. I really want to talk to you. Really. I like you. I want you to be honest with me, though. Tell me when I'm putting too much on you or treating you too rough. V

ehhhhhh

man, i enjoyed them. i cant help my empathy, frustrations aside, when you ARE genuine with me thats... like not in a dark and threatening way. lol

You have alot of crunchy insights wrt christian philosophy and no reservations in expressing them. Like there are principles often behind it and not a vague, nihilistic moron blackpill thing alot of neoracs have wrapped layers of obfuscation over.

but like, ur ideology seeks to kill me so, shruggie. It was a question of how do i balance my curiousity and intrigue with i guess, ur murderous fervor. You coming into my chat and my twitter to harass me and my friends and peers who simply want to be comfy.jpg was about the final straw of tolerance. I guess that lack of awareness toward that.

also the hate that explodes out of you is immeasurably stressful and simply toxic, even considering my enormous facility for patience, especially when in such a candidly, antisocial manner as in my chat. I couldn't discern if it was COMING FROM SOMEWHERE (lmao psychoanalysis) or if you flatly just didn’t give a shit and wanted the day of the rope for the libidinal excess of it and so on.

If i were to be honest? maybe i feel disappointed. Mostly in myself, for like, not prioritizing my MeNtAL hEaLtH. Thru you and alot of people and groups i was a part of, I kind of saw the futility or a frequent sort of “why the fuck am i even doing this” in engaging with neoreactionaries of ur sort.

I do it because nrx, unlike alot of contemporary ideologues, have a finger on the pulse of the outside, or the threads of darkness that erupt from the abyssal sun. An engagement with undercurrent, subsurface phenomena as well as macro trajectory and societal observation, ie the cathedral. But it’s a balance of mitigating my annoyance and disgust in exchange for that insight and study. Because my process of externalization requires bodies of thought to bounce off of, or else i starve, so to speak. I abhor insulated bubbles of awareness.

But the disgust comes from the way many reactionaries react to that darkness. A violent explosion of incomprehensible pain and fury from glancing strikes that seeks a recontextualized sort of blue pill for security. something to pull you back from yawning abyss. Something to render sense, a phenomenonal rationalization. And that comes down to, well, antisemitism among other things. A human desire to render a one or whole or sort of identifiable well from which suffering pours from. things like antisemitism rely on myth in the familiar way of the unga bunga eternal Other, i guess to put it flatly, as scapegoat. It helps to render sense of great horror by ascribing it to the influence of the Other. “All of your ills is because this tribe poisoned your water,” and orgy of madness ensues. No amount of science and media can diminish this aspect of human nature. A herd morality springs forth to vindicate it, which is the threat. The Human centipede of theory and philosophy that i ascribed to neoreaction, where it begins with neocameralism and arrives at americanized white nationalism and an ideology constructed around mass murder. It’s really easy to craft rhetoric of synchronicities to vindicate such activities, because the ills you see is being produced or caused or effecting everything and everyone. It comes down to mass hypnosis and manipulation and that’s mad gay lol.

Because where it arrives, is simply more generational trauma to no good end. Like a man in a suppressed dark place who murders his wife in an eruption of pent up rage, only to live with the consequences of murdering an innocent, perhaps someone he loved, and STILL live with that darkness. Rage is a survival technique from wounds and pain. It’s useful, but intoxicating.