#i know this project is probably dormant

[russetfoxfur]

look i just had to write this

He picks up the phone.

There is a message from Mumbo.

Mumbo Jumbo has sent a voicemail (60 seconds long).

He presses play, waits as his phone catches up to the request (seriously, what kind of internet fizzled out a few days after the apocalypse?) and holds his breath.

For a moment after the triangle play button stops spinning in a circle, there is static.

Then, a voice.

"Grian!" shouted at the top of some very British lungs. "Grian, I- I don't know what's happening and I don't like it and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, Grian please make it stop!" There is a wordless shriek and Grian sucks in a breath.

"I'm turning into a monster, Grian, please help me. I- I- I think I have dementia right now! I- I'm forgetting- how- huh?" Another scream and Grian is pinned to his phone.

"Grian, if you get this, please hurry, I- I don't know how long I can hold out, I'm- I don't- please!" Mumbo sounds like he's on the edge of tears. "Signed, Mumbo K. Jumbo."

He remembered the signature.

Grian stares blankly at his phone as the static and the shrieking cuts out. Mumbo Jumbo. His best friend. Screaming and shrieking.

It's happening to everyone, he realizes. Not just my apartment. It's not some weird cult that sprang up overnight. It's real and it's killing Mumbo.

Before he does anything else - namely, pack a bag and grab the crowbar - he presses the Record Voice button and says softly,

"Hey, Mumbo. I'm- I'm on my way. I won't let the bad things happen. I'm going to come as soon as I can, and I- I'll make it better. I don't know how, but I will, I promise that on the stuffed bird you made me." He allows himself a laugh. "You did promise I'd get that stuffed bird when you were done."

But then, his expression hardens and tears prick in his eyes. "Please hold out for me. I- I don't know how- you're my best friend, Mumbo, more than Iskall and Impulse, now that they've gone to Concorp, and Scar-" He breaks off. It's been a while since he's even contacted him, because of him being obsessed with money and medicine. Ever since Scar had given him that weird shot that had been supposedly to protect him from demons. Ever since Scar had shared the formula for a strange 'war gas' that, now that he'd thought of it, was probably used to start the apocalypse. Ever since Cub had decided that Boatem wasn't good to socialize with.

"Well," he murmurs, and he lifts his gaze to the framed Boatem crew picture, to the wind-up Entity sitting on the countertop. "I'm going to do this. I won't let you down, Mumbo, I won't. This won't be the last voicemail you send.

"Signed, Grian P. B. Xelqua."

[detailtilted]

In Search of Supernatural Fans from the Early Years

Hi! I’m looking for the legends who originally recorded old Supernatural convention panels featuring Jared or Jensen, or possibly Misha. See "What I'm Looking For" below. If you know one of them, or if you're a member of a community with people who were in the fandom in those early years, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could let them know about this post. I can be reached at DetailTilted@gmail.com or here on Tumblr.

If you aren’t familiar with my project, see the “Project Background” section below. This is not a low-effort exercise to merely repackage old videos. I’m putting many hours of work into each video to improve their watchability and accessibility. I will always credit my sources unless you wish to remain anonymous.

Even if your videos are on YouTube, I’m likely to have more success upscaling them if I can get the original video files. Thanks to the videos AgtSpooky kindly sent me, I've learned how big of a difference it can make when I have the original files to work with. That's why I’m putting more effort into finding those elusive original video takers.

The problem is that they all seem to have fallen off the face of the earth. Most of their YouTube accounts, LiveJournal accounts, and whatever other accounts I’ve dug up haven’t had any activity in 10-15 years. I’ve left a few messages on some of them, but I doubt they’ll be seen on dormant accounts. I’ve also gone down some crazy and twisted Googling paths trying to find current contact info for them, but without much success. In one case I even messaged the wrong person, who was at least kind enough to reply to the psycho asking for videos to let me know she wasn't the person I'd hoped she was. Oops!

What I’m Looking For

I’ve already finished CHICON 2007, Comic-Con 2008, and CHICON 2008, so I don’t need videos from those events, but I’d be happy to try to upscale your videos for your own collection if you have some you'd like to send me.

Actually, I could use CHICON 2008 Breakfast videos if you have any. I plan to attempt to redo that video either late this year or early next year.

I’ve been trying especially hard to reach people with original video files from either LA 2009 or Asylum 3 (2009), and I’d also be ecstatic to get some from LA 2008.

Any other old con videos you’re willing to share that have Jared or Jensen in them would be awesome. I hope to get to all the old conventions eventually. I haven’t yet defined “old”, so I don’t have a specific cutoff point.

Even if you just have audio files without video, those could be helpful too.

Length doesn't matter. Both long and short videos are welcome. Maybe I won't end up using them all, but the more options I have the better. Even if I don't put your video in my final edit, it would still be used because I always listen to every single video I can find when I'm finalizing my subtitles. Each video sounds at least a little different, and sometimes just hearing the audio in a slightly different way lets me catch a subtitle I'd missed or misheard.

Also, just to be clear, it isn’t necessarily my intent to exclude Misha. I’ve watched and enjoyed many of his convention videos and I liked Castiel for the most part, especially in the earlier seasons. I’m just not obsessed with Misha like I am with Jared and Jensen, and these videos do take quite a lot of work, so I’ve been putting my energy where my greatest interests lie. I’ll absolutely be including him when he’s in panels with Jared and/or Jensen, and in the future I may consider doing some of his solo panels.

So if you have original video files of Misha's solo panels that you’d like to send me, I’d be happy to add them to my stockpile for future possible use. If your videos turn out to be mostly complete, and if they upscale easily, then I might go ahead and do his panel at the same time I do the other panels from the same convention. If they'll take more effort to work with, I’ll probably skip them for now, but I may come back and tackle them if/when I run out of old Jared and Jensen videos to work with.

For any con videos you send me, regardless of whether I use them or not, I’d be happy to try to upscale them and send them back to you for your collection. I can’t always get things to upscale, so I can’t promise success, but I’ll definitely try.

Project Background - Enhanced Edition Con Videos

You can find my videos on my YouTube channel. (If you're already familiar with my project, skip to the next section -- there's nothing new to see here.)

I started this project in December 2023 to enhance old convention videos. My goal is to make them easier on the eyes and more accessible to both new and old fans from around the world. The videos on YouTube from that time can be difficult both to watch and to understand due to a combination of the older technology used to record them, the difficult recording conditions the fans were working with, and the lack of subtitles that make any sense.

I’m enhancing the videos as follows:

Visual Improvements: I’m upscaling the videos if possible, making color corrections if needed, and adding some slight stabilization to reduce the jitteriness. The end result is far from perfect because there’s only so much that current technology can do, but it's noticeably improved if you compare it to the originals.

Subtitles: I’m adding good, color-coded, English subtitles that can be turned on or off through YouTube’s CC button. The color-coding makes it more clear who's saying what when multiple people are speaking, and YouTube can auto-translate them into other languages to improve the accessibility.

Multiple Sources: If one video has gaps in it, then I'll try to find another that I can edit in to fill those gaps so the end result is as complete as possible. If I have more than one source that captured the same portion of the event, then I'll cut to whichever video I think had the best view of the action. In a few cases I’ve added a split screen with two different videos showing simultaneously so we can see action that's taking place in two separate areas. For example, when Jared and Jensen are on opposite sides of the stage. (There were also the infernal talking head bubbles on my Comic-Con 2008 video which nearly made me throw in the towel, but taught me a lot. 😅)

Extra Content for Context: These older videos don’t take up the full width of a modern video frame, so I’ve taken advantage of the extra space to display some still images with text to add extra context for many of the things they discuss. Some things are a lot funnier, or at least a lot more relevant, when you know exactly what they’re talking about. I clarify Supernatural episode references and pop culture references among other things. Sometimes I’ve also inserted short video clips, usually just a few seconds’ worth, if I thought it would add worthwhile clarity or entertainment to the topic at hand.

Current Project Status

If anyone has been wondering how I’m doing on my current video and what’s next… I’m almost done with the last video from CHICON 2008, which was Jensen’s solo panel. I should be ready to publish it on YouTube this Friday, May 24. I plan to use the same schedule as last time and put the Tumblr post up the following Tuesday when it’s a little more likely to be noticed here.

The next sequential conventions are LA 2009 and Asylum 2009, but I haven’t had much success in my attempts to upscale the available videos. If I were to work with what I have now, I know I could turn out something better than what’s on YouTube today, but the end result wouldn’t be nearly as good as what I might be able to achieve if I can get some original videos to work with. So I think it’s more logical to skip over these conventions for now and give it some time to see if I get any responses, in hope of a better end result.

I do intend to come back to the skipped conventions eventually, even if nobody sends me anything. Once I run out of conventions for which I can upscale the videos, if I still don't have anything better to work with for the ones I skipped, I’ll just do the best I can with what’s available. Even if I can't upscale, I can still do color corrections and stabilization, plus the subtitles and extra content. Some of these panels are split up into a bunch of very short videos, so it would also add value if I can combine them into something more sequential and cohesive. (I found 130 videos from the Jared and/or Jensen panels at LA 2009, and most of them were under 2 minutes long. 🤣) I don’t know if there’s enough footage to cover the entire panels seamlessly, but I’m itching to get my hands on that jigsaw puzzle of videos to try to make sense out of them.

So… the next videos I intend to work on will be from Vancouver 2009. This is one of the conventions that AgtSpooky attended and sent me videos for and they upscaled very well. Her breakfast video had already found its way onto YouTube, but wasn't properly credited. Her main panel videos aren't on YouTube as far as I could find, so that version may be new to newer fans. I'm only just starting to play around with upscaling the other sources out there, but my first attempt at the other main Breakfast source came out well. Both breakfast videos were taken from extreme opposite angles, so that should provide some useful editing opportunities. I’d still love to get more videos of this event if anyone has them.

If you made it this far, I am in awe. Sorry for putting this wall of text on your screen! 😅

[sgiandubh]

A word on Wardpark/Cumbernauld Studios

@docsama left a comment, on S's birthday, under one of my posts and I promised her an answer with more information, as soon as I got the time. Anyway, here goes - and @docsama, sorry for the delay:

Question is: who owns the Wardpark Film and Television Studios?

The answer was quick to find, in the not-so-old specialized media:

The story begins in 2013, with an ambitious Scottish entrepreneur, Terry Thomson - this guy (courtesy of The Herald, https://www.heraldscotland.com/news/15984820.analysis-three-projects-pipeline-help-productions-make-big-picture/):

He is the owner of the Thomson Pettie Group, based in Carluke (https://www.thomsonpettie.com/about-us), which has nothing to do with cinema:

You've read that right: they are 'manufacturers of fabricated metal parts and assemblies', primarily for the national automotive industry. Yet, in 2013, Mr. Thomson agreed to rent what he described as 'a dormant industrial property' - a warehouse, to be exact - to Sony, in order to host the filming and production of OL. Thus, he became the CEO of a newly created entity, The Wardpark Film and Television Studios (https://www.hackmancapital.com/scotlands-largest-most-iconic-film-studio-acquired-by-hackman-capital-partners-and-square-mile-capital/).

By 2017, Wardpark was doing so well, that a big expansion plan was announced, with the direct support of the Scottish Government, which invested £4 million via Scottish Enterprise, its business support, advice and funding agency:

And then, in November 2021, the little engine that could was sold to those two big US investors, Hackman Capital Partners (HCP) and Square Mile Capital Management LLC (now globally rebranded as Affinius Capital). In this montage, Hackman Capital Partners brought its own confirmed film studios and media management expertise...

... while Square Mile most probably funded a sizeable portion of the acquisition, simply because this is what they do best:

Perhaps an interesting detail: HCP owns and manages both the Culver City based Sony Pictures Animation Studios' Campus and the legendary Culver Studios, now rebranded by Amazon:

Back to Scotland, Wardpark Studio's sale made just about everyone happy. Mr. Thomson kept his CEO job and look who was more than thrilled about the juicy transaction:

Currently, the studio is operated by HCP's subsidiary, The MBS Group:

That means that MBS probably manages just about everything, as far as daily management is concerned, from business operations, staffing and/or property management, to lighting and grip, trucks and generators' fleet, expendables and props. Unless I could see a contract and have a precise idea, I can just enumerate all the services they offer.

At no point in time did S and C own anything of those studios. As for the Executive Producer part, that is another discussion entirely. I could be coaxed to write something about it, if you really want to know why Those Two are EPs and what does that really, really mean - because once again, I have seen and read a LOT of bullshit in here, especially in the Desperate Housewives Disgruntled Tumblrettes' corner.

Thank you for asking. It was fun to research and write and I hope it brought more clarity to you.

[bk-4-trash-fire]

Robot creator part twoooooooo

Okokokok is I want to say this again for people who don't know

I am an artist, not a writer, so apologies if most of this series and the other one will make no sense and have bad grammar

But anyways enjoy

Plugging in the black rectangle onto you desk that you later found out was called a "tablet"

You were a scavenger of some sort

Taking anything that brought you interest, that or anything that can be taken apart

You and doc were always exchanging random things for both of y'all benefit

For you cuz what doc had looked cool

For doc cuz most of the random items you had could be used for future projects

But this table would be something only for you

That and the body pillow you found and later have hidden under you bed

Probably for the best no one sees it

You then hear a chime coming from the tablet

Seeing it come to life is incredible

You will soon witness a relic of the flesh beings work

Momo is gonna be sooooo jealous

And so you planned on showing all your friends your discovery

What's the worst that can happen?

Have the gang all together waiting for their (basically) little sibling to show off their new trinket

Even zbaltazar was there in a wheelchair clementine found for him

"so this will give us new knowledge of the flesh beings life before us?" You heard doc question

"exactly! This is said to have the ability to help entertain flesh beings and be able to communicate with other flesh beings!"

"You've made your point, now show us this cool new technology you're praising" momo chirped and giddily sat up to see this device

As you turned on the tablet you noticed it started to shake

It scared you enough to drop the thing onto the table

It started a small before it quickly started violently moving off the table from the shaking

Soon the screen began cracking with the light from the tablet becoming blinding

Soon the whole room was engulfed in the light

For a while genshin sat dormant for the MANY years their creator was gone

For awhile the people were filled with grief

Not knowing if this is some sort of punishment or if something horrible happened to their creator

Not like they could do anything

Their only proper way of communicating with them (mail) was getting no response

All the greatest minds in teyvat were at it for weeks making a machine powerful enough to bring back the creator

All it needed was a spark

Confirmation that the creator was somewhere alive.

Today was like any other albedo

Checking up on experiments

Checking on the machine

On look it working....

.....

Wait..

HOLY FUCK IT'S WORKING

Within moments albedo is sweating bullets and covering his ear from the sound of the gears

The sheer sound was probably enough for a person to go deaf

The ground shoke form the machine working it's magic

Finally after all this time

They had found them

Soon the machine comes to a dead stop

Soon a creeping silence as albedo makes his way to what is the door to let his god back to their world

What he expects is to see someone magnificent, unexplainable beauty.

But what greets him is 5 mechanical humanoids

That's it for now let me know how ya feel about this chapter :]

[prucanfieldsurquestions]

what are your favorite clothes to steal from each other? 👀

There were few things Gilbert liked more than accompanying his mild-mannered lover to a hockey game. The actual sport was only half the fun. The other half, of course, was-

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, REF!"

-was that dear, sweet Matthew wasn't so sweet in the arena.

There weren't many things that would get the Canadian to yell at the top of his lungs. Watching his beloved Leafs get a penalty they apparently didn't deserve was on the short list of those things. Gilbert could only sit back with a grin as Matthew rose out of his seat to shout obscenities in French, and then cackle as those obscenities turned more than a few heads. The buzzer signifying the end of the first period was probably a relief to those around them. Frankly, Gilbert couldn't wait for intermission to be over. In the meantime, though, Tumblr would be entertainment enough.

Crimson eyes lit up as the first thing the Prussian saw was a notification on the ask blog that had laid dormant for a few months. He grabbed the back of Matthew's jersey and pulled him down into his seat, then leaned over and showed him excitedly.

"Hey, we finally got another ask! I knew we'd get one eventually! Wasn't I telling you that last week?" He asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. "Hm… Our favourite clothing to steal from each other, huh?"

Matthew huffed and glared at the offending referee as they skated a loop around the rink. "I think my favourite thing to borrow right now would be one of your swords. Did you see that? Total bullshit! Nylander should NOT hav-"

"Mattie! Focus! The people want to know about our clothes stealing habits! We can 'talk' with the ref later, ja?"

A sigh left the Canadian as he begrudgingly turned his attention to the phone. It was probably for the best that he cool down before the next period anyways. "Okay, okay. Our favourite clothes to take from each other…"

- - -

Meetings where Matthew would be gone for a week or more were certainly not a household favourite. Gilbert stood at the front door, essentially blocking it while he adjusted Matthew's tie for the third time. He could already feel a familiar ache tugging at his heart. With a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, he looked into the perfect oceans of lavender that he would miss dearly.

"Well, I guess you're all ready, huh? Break someone's legs, babe!"

Matthew couldn't help but chuckle. "I think the phrase is 'break a leg'?"

"Yeah, but I don't want you to break your leg, so someone else can be a sacrifice!"

That chuckle quickly turned into a giggle. Strong arms wrapped around Gilbert and held him close for the last time until his return. "I'll be sure to appease the gods of PowerPoint then."

Gilbert pulled his lover down for a searing-hot kiss, one that would hopefully linger on his lips until he got back. Then, begrudgingly, he stepped out of the way so Matthew could get on his way to the stupid string of meetings taking place in America.

Whispered words of love and a promise to call later in the evening hung in the air like mist well after the door shut. This first day was always the hardest. Oh, sure, Gilbert would be fine tomorrow. There were projects to do around the house, video games to play, and Ludwig's social media to try and hack into, after all. Plenty to keep him distracted.

A sigh left his lips as he wandered from the front door to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, hopped up onto his designated spot on the counter, and looked around. Seemed to him that the cottage was just a little emptier and gloomier without his personal sunshine there with him.

The pity party lasted only as long as the beer did. Once his bottle was thrown in the recycling bin, Gilbert headed to the bedroom. Nothing made him feel better in Matthew's absence like doing chores, knowing he would be rewarded handsomely with praise upon the Canadian's return to a sparkling-clean house. Doing all the laundry seemed like a good start.

Of course, Gilbert had to laugh a little upon entering the bedroom. His side of the bedroom was neat and tidy, a place for everything and everything in it's place. Matthew's side, however, was a different story. It seemed to Gilbert like complete chaos, but there was some order to it. Matthew generally put his clothes in one of three piles. Pale hands grasped the empty mesh clothes hamper that hung on the back of the door and headed to the first one.

This one, always closest to the window, was the 'absolutely filthy' pile. Clothes that had mud caked on them, egregious food stains from the last food fight, or any number of other stains from the unfortunate random happenstance Matthew seemed to endure on a weekly basis were thrown in the hamper. Next, half-shoved under the bed, was the 'home clothes' pile. It had been explained that this one was clothes Matthew wouldn't necessarily wear out in public, but were fine for around the house or around their property. These were also gathered up and thrown in the hamper. The last pile, though, made Gilbert pause. This one was closest to the wardrobe, and consisted of clothes that could be worn again in polite company or in public. At the top of the pile was the hoodie Matthew wore to their bonfire the night before.

Gilbert held the teal hoodie up to inspect it for only a moment before he brought it to his face and breathed it in. It smelled like campfire smoke, yes, but there was a scent that was unmistakably Matthew under it. It was maple whiskey and cedar trees, a little car exhaust and a hint of fresh snow. It was deep, rich, and so wonderfully unique that it was near-intoxicating. A soft smile wormed it's way onto Gilbert's face as he put that hoodie on and gathered the rest of the clothes up. This first day was always the hardest. But Matthew had a wonderful habit of finding ways to make it a little easier, even in his absence.

- - -

Matthew could already feel a stress headache starting.

The border had been insanely busy for no discernable reason. There were no holidays, no big events, nothing of the sort. And it was Tuesday, for God's sake! What kind of person would just randomly go to America on a Tuesday?! Then, of course, someone was being trained on border security and had never seen his ID before. It took nearly fifteen minutes of back and forth arguing, very politely on Matthew's end I might add, before a senior border officer was brought over and settled the whole thing. Truly, Matthew wondered why he even went to meetings when it was better for his blood pressure to just stay home.

Driving as if he were in Toronto made up for some lost time, but the poor Canadian still pulled into the parking lot of the meeting hall almost an hour late. He burst into the room, messenger bag full of important documents (and snacks), to find that… the meeting hadn't started yet?

"Hey, dude! Right on time!" Alfred called from the head of the large oval table. Matthew sighed in relief as he took his designated seat.

"I thought we were supposed to start at six, though?" He asked. Other representatives began wandering to their seats as well from whatever random conversations they were having elsewhere in the room.

Alfred shrugged and turned on the projector. "Eh, I factored in about an hour for you and Feli to get here before we actually got going. So, without any further ado, let's get this meeting started!"

The first day of a week of meetings was usually the easiest. Everyone was generally in good spirits, or else too jetlagged to cause too much trouble. Usually. Today seemed like it was going to be the exception, if Arthur's apparent distaste for whatever Alfred had just said was any indication. Matthew quickly turned his attention from the impending verbal slaughter to the little reminder of home he'd brought with him.

Around his neck, on a chain stolen from some other pendant, sat one of Gilbert's many rings. This one was almost definitely over a century old. As all hell broke loose, earlier than anticipated, Matthew undid the clasp on the chain and held the ring in his hands.

This ring was simple, consisting of a gold band with a square bloodstone set in it, but it had always been among Matthew's favourites. There was something he loved about the way the metal felt when his and Gilbert's fingers were clasped together. Something about how the dark stone glinted in the light when Matthew brought his beloved's hand up for a kiss that would never stop making his heart race. A wistful smile and no small amount of homesickness accompanied the ring as he slid it on his pinky finger, the only one it would fit on.

Violet eyes glanced around the room to ensure he wasn't missing anything important while daydreaming of their bonfire the night before. Seemed like Alfred and Arthur had gotten into an impassioned argument about the proper preparation of liver, of all things, and Herakles had fallen asleep directly on Feliciano's documents. Or sketchbook. Maybe both? Either way, Matthew figured he had a few minutes at least before everything was brought back to some semblance of order.

Quiet as a ghost, he slipped out of the room and into the hall. He leaned against the wall with his phone pinched between his shoulder and his cheek. He absentmindedly played with the ring while he waited for Gilbert to pick up. Of course, he wasn't left waiting very long.

"Hallo, you've reached the sexiest retiree this side of the Atlantic, how may I help you?"

Matthew couldn't help but laugh. He continued to play with the ring on his pinky while he stole his quick few moments with his beloved, and even when he went back in the meeting room, his eyes never really left it. Briefly, he wondered if he could figure out Gilbert's ring size from it, and if so…

[honeyxmonkey]

LoK au Douxie! His mom is from the water tribe and his dad is fire nation. He grew up in the South Pole, and after his mother was killed in an unfortunate attack, he was adopted by his younger half brother’s mom

he's also obviously painfully a homosexual

Avatar au in my brain, but slightly to the left. Thoughts is that Douxie’s father wanted to make an artificial avatar, a powerful being he could control for his own purposes. But the spirit he captured and infused in his infant son refused to cooperate resulting in the baby nearly dying until his father had to abandon the project altogether. It left Douxie sick and weakly growing up and not without scars. But it also left him tainted with spirit energy resulting in him unlocking a type of bending previously known only to spirits and the avatar themselves. Energy bending.

So, essentially, this is just me creating an excuse for Douxie to have what is basically "magic" in the atla universe

After Douxie’s mother died, Barbara adopted him, knowing that no matter how angry she was at her ex-husband, she couldn't blame a suffering child for it

Jim, his younger half brother, is something of a waterbending prodigy. Douxie, believed for a majority of his life to be a nonbender, loved to watch his baby brother be so good at something. To love it clearly and want to be good at it

Since Douxie had been sickly for basically his whole life for unknown reasons living with a healer proved to be beneficial to him, especially during the times when his overall health would decline rapidly at the drop of a hat

At one point it got so bad that he had to be seen by specialists in Republic City. Jim went with him for moral support, which is where they get tangled up in Avatar shenanigans and Korra accidentally activates Douxie’s long dormant spirit abilities and energy bending

Fun notes: he and Korra probably would have met sooner if she hadn't grown up in what was essentially a military compound. Their parents were pretty close friends, and it's a shame they never got to meet before Republic City.

I have a lot of lore for this au and plenty of angst, including Douxie being so goddamn scared of himself that he begs Amon to take his bending away. But since his isn't exactly "bending" and more basically just "spirit magic" it doesn't work.

Don't know when I'll start really writing this but it's gonna happen eventually.

[muzzleroars]

I'm sorry if this has been already asked but what's V2's relationship/dynamic with V1?

Also, whats V2's reaction to V1's ascension/being risen?

eventually it's 100% an evil sibling dynamic, but it takes quite some time for v2 and v1 to understand each other. v2's resistance is obvious, it's been left bitter by their prior encounters and, at a fundamental level, it believes v1 is far more like the other machines than it is...and it's right. v2 was trained extensively on human learning/behavioral models, it thinks in a very different way despite v1 also being highly sophisticated and sharing the same hardware for its mind. v2 saw v1 as a pure war machine, one so perfect for its purpose that it couldn't find a place in the new peace (ask it, it knows). essentially, it doesn't really believe v1 is capable of bonding, is capable of connection, and it believes, for some time, gabriel has projected his own feelings on it. however, v2 has very few options for social relationships in hell, something it needs given its development, and gabriel is about the only choice it has. it pointedly avoids v1 when visiting, not really trying to change gabriel's mind but also not listening when he insists how v1's grown by leaps and bounds. it isn't until v1 makes the effort, that v1 tries interacting with it in non-violent ways, that it begins to reconsider. it's easy to push it away at first, but v1 keeps coming back, even going so far as to not engage it when v2 instigates in exasperation...and it doesn't know WHAT to think. when it signs out to it that gabriel said it should try, that gabriel told it v2 is the only family it has left (and he's very insistent. it would make him happy, it tells v2). when it sees something deeper in v1, that it isn't just a perfect, mindless murderer, it begins to let its guard down little by little around it.

when they grow more comfortable with each other, v2 STILL thinks v1 is more than a little unhinged from its corrupted software and v1 thinks v2 is more than a little strange, trying to act like people, but it becomes much more pestering/teasing each other. this. looks a little different in what's essentially two tiny war machines, but gabriel quickly learns a vast majority of what they do is now "play" fighting, despite the damage it causes to the surrounding area. however, i do think they learn A LOT from each other in very good ways - v1 sees v2 modeling behaviors in a way it understands much better and it helps it be gentle with gabriel, while v1 teaches v2 that it's okay to let go of that, that it is a machine and can act like one when it wants to. they would never admit they're copying each other, but gabriel finds it incredibly endearing that they make all these little connections because no one else left in the world could understand each other the way they do in many ways. i even...like the idea that v1 gives the knuckleblaster back, so long as v2 helps it make a new one (v2 is much more gifted in crafting than v1...and it's more v1 helping v2 make it.....with the help very unhelpful at times.....) in the end, they're still committed to terrorizing each other, but they also grow close in their own way and would absolutely defend the other if needed. (gabriel is overjoyed and v1 is happy he's happy)

as far as risen v1 goes, i think v2 is likely around in the initial process given how long it takes - gabriel takes his light back, but v1 lays dormant in heaven for quite some time. v2, in and out of heaven itself often for visiting mike, probably does what it can to comfort gabriel during this time. it's not particularly good at that kind of thing, but it was dead too, after all, and he saved it then....why couldn't he do it now with v1? it's genuinely unsure if it will work and....something in it is sad to see v1 so deteriorated, so silent and still. it takes that to mike though, knowing gabriel doesn't need the additional grief, relating how the two never came to fully understand one another, but not thinking it matters either way. it had grown to appreciate v1's presence and there truly isn't anything that could remotely replace it. but when v1 wakes, when all of its circuitry lights up in bright blue, v2 is relieved with gabriel. for a minute. until it realizes the kind of terror it's going to be now that it can...fly. it kind of maybe holds out hope for a second that something in it will be tempered by gabriel's light but that only lasts until it sees it crawling all over gabe like an aphid before immediately leaping off the tallest building it can find. so while everyone is amazed at v1's successful rise, v2 thinks it's going to move to heaven permanently because it is NOT living near THAT.

[scribble-dee-vee]

Writeblr Intro circa 2024

Hi writeblr!! Sooo, I've been around here since about 2014. (Yes, I am ancient.) However, I've been dormant for the past 4-5 years. Blame college and a brief stint on Twitter. Now that I'm active again, I thought I should make an updated writeblr intro so ppl know my Deal. Basically, I want to engage with other folks who write fiction (esp original SF), and that's a little easier if I have a clear post that outlines what I do. Here to make connections and hear about your blorbos :)

About me

Hi, I'm Vee! They/them, 23, 💖 🤍 🧡

I do journalism/comms in western New York

My literary jam is feminist/adult SF and gothic lit (OG or modern) 🥀 ⚔️ 🌙

Enthusiastic about gay people, body horror, and sociopolitical allegories

I cook, run, play tabletop games, and occasionally draw. Other than that, I'm mostly writing (for work and for fun)

If you were on pre-2020 writeblr, you likely know me from my eight billion daily tag games. (I still like tag games and appreciate u for tagging me. I have also gained adult responsibilities and better mental health, so I respond very slowly now. <3)

Always happy to get asks or dms, tho as I've noted: I may reply slowly.

Sometimes open to beta read! I only read one longer project at a time, but it's always super fun :)

I tag very consistently – happy to tag triggers for followers/moots

Fun fact: I love mushroom hunting and worked as a mycology TA. #cottagecoreera 🍄 🧚‍♀️ 🌱

About my creative writing

I write,,,, feminist/adult SF with gothic leanings (surprise!)

Longform and short! Trying to do more short writing this year, and I'll likely share a bit on Tumblr. It's easier to clip a short story than a 150k novel, god bless.

The Aesthetic: moral g(r)ays, Victoriana, androids/cyborgs, Women™, monstrous femininity, incessant Hamlet/Frankenstein motifs, extremely boring socioeconomic worldbuilding, evil queens and/or dilfs, psychosexual witchcraft, probably a cat. Also, an ominous, plot-relevant letter laced with anthrax from your unhinged and brilliant ex-wife. Open if you dare.

Major projects

I'm going to be writing some short work this year, but these are the longer projects that I have going in the background. If I reblog blorbo-related text posts, they probably have something to do with these.

Let me know if you want to be added to any project-specific taglists 😎

Heart of Lead – Series

The big one

Perpetually evolving

Never ceasing

Pls send help I can't stop adding shit

5-book gothic fantasy epic that I'll definitely publish one day but probably no time soon! My bastard child, my wicked firstborn, my greatest love <3

Character-oriented political drama set in a pseudo-Victorian, dystopian oligarchy where everyone's heart is made out of metal. It's about coming of age and discovering queer identity in a world that is absolutely fucked. God is an extraterrestrial lesbian who gives ppl very traumatizing magic powers. There are cyborgs, shapeshifters, and morally gray women in STEM. It's tight as fuck idk what else what to tell u.

Book 1 is about achillean monarchists, and book 2 is about sapphic anarchists. There are only two genders, I guess.

At this point, I've drafted most of the books at least once. Working to refine a lot of raw material atm!

Tag: "heart of lead tag" or "hol tag"

Lost Letters – Book

Aka the current active HoL WIP, and book one in the revised series structure

Length: 80k as of now; around 120-140k when the first draft is finished, I presume.

Genre: adult fantasy, gothic, noir detective drama?? um?? If you want me to frame it in BookTok terms (why?) it's a dark academia villain x villain tragic romantasy. Hrgh.

Summary: Cyborg soldier goes to college, joins a shady socialite frat, and falls in love with the jilted heir-apparent to the throne. Hilarity ensues.

(By "hilarity," I mean a militant revolutionary faction and a tragedy of Greek proportions.)

POV characters: Charles (the cyborg), Dale (the heir), and Cecelia (Charles' sister, a junior detective, the love of my life and potentially the Chosen One???)

This book is twisty and dark and immensely fun to write.

I'm about halfway through the first full draft! Hoping to share snippets and vaguepost about my children here.

Tag: "lost letters tag" (also "hol tag," tho that one's less specific)

The Last of Mortal Tourists – Book

The next longform project on the docket!

Length: a standalone work that will hopefully fall on the shorter novel/novella spectrum.

Genre: literary SF, cyberqueer, psychological space quest

Summary: The consciousness of a dead coding genius, trapped inside a spaceship, seeks a new planet to sustain their sister, the last surviving human, after the destruction of Earth.

If you're here to get wildly philosophical about gender and the myth of essential self, this is the story for you! That's why I'm writing it, lol. 🏳️‍⚧️ 🚀 🤖

This one started out as a short story (100% finished) which I want to expand.

POV: Archer Alto, the coder. Spaceship? Human? Soul?

Supporting Cast: Pandora, the last human, and Abby, a holographic impression of Archer's childhood consciousness

Tag: "the last of mortal tourists tag" or "tlomt tag"

If you read all this way, you get a whole bouquet of flowers that are certainly NOT poisonous: 🌸 🌹 💐 🥀 🌺

<3

[postal-ech]

Alright no, I need to go into detail on this shit cause I swear to god, it lives rent free in my head. I'll split the post off here cause there's gonna be some spoilers for Lisa the Undone as well as a few other Lisa Fan Games that are on my mind

I'm also giving a CW here, cause Lisa covers some dark topics, and I want to unload it a bit here, especially given what I've seen out of Lisa the Undone.

Buckle up, it's gonna be a long, very autistically hyperfixated post.

So

I initially never really got into Lisa when it first came out. I was a shitlord that saw the fan content first, especially this project known as Interlopers - essentially, a Lisa-Undertale crossover featuring Buddy Armstrong and Chara Dreemur.

It piqued my interest a bit, but I never realized how one sided it was in exploring this stuff, especially given it was this crossover AU. It focused mainly on the Undertale fandom and some of the things that were popular at the time. It WAS going to explore its own version of Olathe on a sequel series but that was canceled later on, and the idea has become dormant since.

Later on, my curiosity grew and I looked into the Lisa side of things more. I discovered Lisa the Pointless, Lisa the Hopeful, and then I started looking into other fan projects here too.

Why this pretext? Because that was the gateway into Lisa proper.

I only got Lisa the Painful and Lisa the Joyful after its definitive edition released. At this point, I was pretty well versed in Brad's story - his trauma and pain, the struggles he faces after, the Joy abuse to numb the pain - so when I saw the campfire scenes between Brad and the other party members, especially with members like Terry or Queen Rodger, Bo and Olan, it sparked something there that's for fucking sure.

And then I got to the secret boss.

I'm a dude thar enjoys reading into shit, looking deep at the meaning of written projects be it games, movies, books, etc - Lore is my god damn drug, to put it in a TL:DR.

Seeing this huge call back to Lisa the First, Seeing the symbolism of joy spiders worshipping a Blue Eclipse above Brad's childhood home, fighting the manifestation of Marty Armstrong and reading the deeper, personal stuff that's said afterwards

That song, too, towards the very end of the sequence, with the music that's reminiscent of s church choir singing as Brad's childhood self descends into the darkness

That's what truly sold me on Lisa.

I know everyone has mixed feelings on Lisa the Joyful of course, especially in the way it handled Buddy - Some people were fine with it, and others didn't like the way she became this bloodthirsty girl out to murder shit indiscriminately

I say fair enough honestly, Joyful was a bit of a slog to get through compared to Painful

HOWEVER

There were two things I still enjoyed about it:

One, Dustin. Dustin was and still is the goddest boy despite his own flaws, and I was upset it wasn't explored more before his untimely death. Buddy actually starting to care about him before it all went downhill was tragic in its own right

Two, the DE content. Again, a lot of people were still mixed on it, but personally I saw it as a better expansion into Buddy healing from her trauma, understanding that- while Brad certainly was in the wrong in the way he raised her, he still tried his best in a world that definitely wanted to exploit her in the most horrific ways imaginable.

I'm fine with her even mentioning Lisa cause let's all be real here, she's definitely at least heard of her through Brad in some way, shape or form, and the ending bit where he explains the dead flower to her only reinforces that for me.

The more supernatural side of things feel interesting too, cause maybe it's just me, but reading into things, The Flash always had this sort of supernatural spin to it - how Olathe got so fucked up, how time doesn't seem to be entirely right in some areas or how everything got all mountainous and the likes. Probably just headcanon stuff but fuck it, I enjoy the speculation.

AND NOW, THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR: LISA THE UNDONE.

So, with that context out of the way, I'll get into my proper thoughts with Lisa: The Undone.

Firstly, again I know not everyone will really agree with the ideas the Definitive Edition put out, especially in the case of Joyful with its Lisa the First callback and Buddy just slamming on Buzzo the way she does. That being said, I love the way Lisa the Undone tackles these ideas Joyful initially set our and explores them more.

The idea of Buddy being less hateful at first, just wanting to genuinely explore the weird and wacky world of Olathe despite its darkness is very welcome. With Dustin especially, this is only amplified.

A lot of the headcanoned and original stuff feel like they can fit right into the base Lisa games too honestly, and that's another thing I really appreciate about this fan gams

But the most important thing to me is the found family relationship between Dustin and Buddy, as well as the two other companions you can recruit.

Dustin is by no means perfect. This is undeniable enough given his actions in Painful and Joyful - He wants to do good, but it becomes a bit of a messiah complex especially for Buddy - who mind you, is only a pubescent kid during all of this shit. This is still translated well in this fan game, just less of a prominent character point - He still wants Buddy to have a good life and to be safe, but there's a clear struggle with seeing her as the Future of Olathe

And seeing her as just Buddy. Just Her.

And the fact that over the time, throughout the chapters, you see Dustin refer to her less as this important figure for the world and more as like a sibling, or just straight up family, that right there is what sells me on this.

Especially towards the end, where depending on your choices in the game, Buddy does eventually admit she can't help but care about people like Dustin.

That hits. That hits a good fucking bit.

And that's what I love to see in this. Sure, it may end with one of the two dying in part 2 of Undone, or depending on your actions it may end with tragedy for either of them

But the fact it works this found family dynamic so God damn well here, with how Buddy and Dustin care for each other AS that family despite Brad's own fuck-ups between the both of them.

Fuck man. It's good, and I hope this fandom explores it more here - especially with DE putting things into an interesting context too.

On a side note, God I also hope it explores DE's Warlord skills mechanics in the future, it's some god damn martial arts shit I love. Sure it may be Mega Man-esque bur god dammit the idea of Buddy learning and incorporating some ideas given from how each Warlord fights is SUCH a good idea and if there's ever a fan game that had Buddy exploring the greater world of Olathe, meeting the likes of Alex Churchland or Beltboy and shit like that, I wanna see her develop her own form of martial arts with or without the katana she's grown accustomed with god dammit.

God, I love Lisa. I love these games as much ad Undertale and Deltarune, and I need to write out some more shit for this series.

Thanks Austin Jorgensen you god damn mad man, and thanks to the Fandom for putting out such genuine bangers.

[luckybyrdrobyn]

wait so are them alters all walking around inside your brain like sims characters or am i thinking wrong

(also i dont know which blog i should be sending this to if is offensive im sorry dont bother answering)

Kinda

We have what’s called an inner world which is basically the space we exist in when we’re not in front or dormant

(Why is this actually so hard to explain)

Our inner world presents as an indoor space but it would probably be impossible to map correctly as it doesn’t really follow the rules of physics.

We have what we dub “rooms” where alters are out of range of front and are usually respected as private spaces.

A lot of us see front differently from within and while fronting so I can only give you my view. But it’s a large room with “front point” in the centre and a sort of projection/screen showing front against one wall.

Watching others in front (for me) is like watching someone play vr I guess?

Anyway, your question.

Yes, we all walk around and move within the space as we like with different alters having more or less freedom and movement than others. There’s a level of “teleportation” with front and summons (reality and physics are honey) but otherwise, so I guess like sims?

I feel like I haven’t answered this well

[randomfoggytiger]

Psychics Developed Their Abilities Through Alien DNA

I found it fascinating that all the characters in The X-Files with psychic ability developed it because of their existential brushes with death (post here.) But how does the existence of Luther Lee Boggs and Clyde Bruckman and John Lee Roche (and Dana Scully) correlate with their antithesis Gibson Praise? Yea, further, what does it mean for someone like Mulder-- a man with an incredibly low threshold for psychic abilities (ironic, I know) to be given and stripped of that ability because of an alien artifact and hacksawed brain surgery?

In short, the answer connecting all these dots is, simply, the alien genome existing, dormant, in every single human being on that planet.

Alien DNA and Psychic Ability

The show went out of its way to hammer home that humans have been inoculated with and against the alien virus since the first spaceship touchdown; but it also decided (halfway through the show) that all the inhabitants of the planet were-- and had been, and would be-- born with alien DNA. Because the original inhabitants were alien in nature, their genomes trickled down to humans; and that alien-human gene is what the alien overlords planned to exploit when they invaded and colonized Earth.

The Consortium, it seems, decided that the key to their species' survival was in the creation of apex humanity, taking in mad scientists post WWII to graft men with bugs (Travellers), rip the ability to sleep from soldiers' brains (Sleepless), and create different types of clones from alien fetal tissue with differing levels of success (Eve, Colony-Endgame, Memento Mori, etc.) Those experiments having largely failed, they theorized it would be easiest to start from the ground up: extracting and experimenting with ova before adding sperm and "allowing" them to grow into functioning clones or more, sadly, malfunctioning humans.

Then, a discovery: Gibson Praise, born with abilities far beyond what had been created or developed and completely without interference, was lauded as the breakthrough they needed; and coveted, captured, and traded by every faction, good or evil, under the sun.

Gibson Praise and the Keys to Everything

Gibson was now established as the undeniable link between mankind, psychic ability, and the alien genome. Born "flawless" and functioning independently and autonomously without the need for special medications to keep his system afloat, the Syndicate considered him the lucky culmination of what they had been working to achieve, unsuccessfully, for decades-- the backbone upon which they could rest their future research and projects. Knowing this, the powers-that-be captured him and cut his brain open in an attempt to replicate his genius. Without luck.

Why did the Consortium capture and study Gibson Praise instead of the countless other psychics running amok around their world? The Syndicate has been shown to capture and study new advances in science; and that allows the viewers to infer psychics are either a dime-a-dozen or old hat; and, either way, are of no current interest or use to the Organization. It would probably have been a waste of time and resources to pursue and test every single one; and, besides, the link between their abilities and their sleeper DNA hadn't been proven before. Gibson, meanwhile, was a unicorn-- the direct link they'd been seeking-- and imperative to their research and ambitions.

But: Gibson Praise, the first key to everything, failed them.

On the tail end of that disappointment, Cassandra Spender popped back down from a UFO completely and miraculously healed. The Syndicate saw this as their new key to everything-- she'd been grafted with alien DNA, enough to correct whatever physical and neurological damage had been done to her body; and was a walking, talking example of different side project that had, also, not gotten off the ground. Perhaps no one could be bred and born like Gibson; but they could-- as the Consortium hoped-- be grafted in.

But: Cassandra Spender, the second key to everything, went up with the Consortium like a puff of smoke.

However, fate had not run out of keys to everything; and threw one last insane (almost literally) trick at the wall to see if it would stick.

Biogenesis, the Lynch Pin

When Biogenesis Mulder touched the literal key to everything-- an alien artifact-- it unlocked psychic potential so vast that his brain lit on fire and his body shut down. (It should also have infected Scully as well, see post here.) Mulder's catatonic state demonstrated how powerful the alien genome could potentially be if activated in the human body-- too powerful for the human body--and proved, once and for all, that psychic ability was caused by alien DNA: not only was he able to read the cue cards from Skinner's mind, but also predict them, divining peoples' actions and motives before they'd unfolded in the present. Not even Gibson Praise was this powerful, having only the ability to telepathically read minds. Mulder, meanwhile, had a mixture of everyone's psychic ability-- telepathy (Biogenesis) and psychic prediction (The Sixth Extinction) and mental projection (also The Sixth Extinction, but implied rather than overtly stated in Scully's poetic monologues.)

When CSM cut that section out of Mulder's brain (I know, I know) and put it into his own (I know, I know), Mulder was freed from the advanced development and destabilization of his mind... and also, his alien DNA was, theoretically, removed from his brain.

Which had huge implications for the series... and was never touched on again.

But what was touched on, and is of vast importance? Even after Mulder's "psychic sector" was removed, he was still caught up in psychic projections, a reoccurring pattern between he and his partner since S2's Ascension (and culminating in This Is Not Happening.) This leads us to one conclusion: throughout the series, it was not Mulder who was creating or projecting these psychic scenarios; leaving only one other person as the culprit-- Scully.

Dana Scully, the Psychic

How do we know Mulder isn't the more psychically inclined one in his and Scully's partnership? Well, the experiences he shares with her are only remembered by one party-- Scully-- and begin during her capture in Ascension. In Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose, Mulder asked layman questions in an attempt to navigate the parameters of psychic ability; and furthermore, Paper Hearts left him confused, discombobulated, and unnerved in the face of John Lee Roche's psychic projections. He is an incredibly intelligent, bright man with insane profiling abilities far beyond his peers and teachers and superiors; but psychic, Mulder seems not to be.

How does this prove that she, not Mulder, is the psychic in the X-Files partnership? In each and every supernatural situation shared between them, Scully was the only one who remembered the incidences: Mulder either wrote them off as his tortured imaginings (Ascension) or didn't recall them at all (The Blessing Way, Within, This Is Not Happening, etc.) Not only that, but she often brushed up against paranormal or supernatural spirits or angels with personal please and warnings as far back as Season 1 (post here and here.)

As touched on in an aforementioned post, she, like Luthor Lee Boggs and Clyde Bruckman and Harold Spuller, sees dead people; and like Boggs, Bruckman, and Spuller, Scully developed that ability through a close connection with death (or the death of someone close to her): specifically, her father's in Beyond the Sea.

An important note: it's not a surprise that psychic phenomenon is awakened around or in the aftermath of death: human history records how death has so touched and punctuated the human spirit that it drives humanity to seek answers or presences or enlightenment or anything "greater" than themselves with cyclical regularity; but it's interesting that-- without meaning to, I'm certain-- this show taps into that shared experience and transforms it into a gateway to human consciousness, an ability to bring forth something greater from the deep recesses of an unconscious or subconscious mind and into the reality of the tangible world.

Scully is not the only member of her family to be psychically in-tune, either: Maggie's dream predated her daughter's gnarly abduction and death (Ascension); and Melissa's sixth sense tried to buoy Mulder's (One Breath) and her sister's spirit (The Blessing Way deleted scene, post here) during dark, hopeless hours.

But Scully is not your ordinary Scully, or even an ordinary psychic: her abduction played a significant role not only in her life but also in the mytharc; and, more imperatively, in connection with Gibson Praise.

Mytharc Tie-Ins: Alien Spaceships, Healing, and William

The Consortium, as we established, wanted to create a superior race to combat the impending alien invasion. Their previous experiments on fully developed humans having failed, they decided to start from the ground up: ova. Thus, they started capturing women-- who would later create MUFON and its European chapters, kept in check by the Syndicate via Diana Fowley-- to experiment on; extract and store their ova; and return them, chipped for further use. Most ova experiments created more clones without any extra enhancements; and most women were returned infertile but largely unharmed. The only woman we know of who was returned on the brink of death (and survived) was Scully, meaning her testing was so severe that, without CSM's interference, she would have died in a government lab and been discarded as medical waste.

And, ironically, coincidentally, indubitably, the very women the Consortium kept trying to kill over and over-- via capture, cancer, or alien incubation virus-- was the same woman who restored her own fertility via an alien spaceship; and (post Season 7) gave birth to a son who (post Season 8) was born with powers even stronger than Gibson Praise's.

How do we know Scully's fertility was restored by the alien spaceship and not by CSM machinations or any other miraculous intervention?

Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz admitted they liberally hinted at Scully's pregnancy throughout Season 7: the family planning book in The Sixth Extinction and the boy on the beach (post here and here.) Though the latter fit as Mulder's reconnection with his inner child, it also served as the writers' jumping off point for more (however badly executed or ill-advised.)

And when does the boy on the beach start appearing to Mulder? After Scully touched the hull of the spaceship in Biogenesis.

Furthermore, En Ami was written by William B. Davis after CC and Spotnitz had laid down their grand plans for the finale. Carter saw this as another opportunity to obscure Wiliam's paternity-- setting up another mystery to tease as long as possible-- and changed up Davis's script accordingly (post here and here.)

If you choose to pursue canon after Season 8-- which I don't-- then William is the next "organically" born Gibson Praise but with far greater abilities. Is this because of an extra "oomph" from the spaceship, or because of Scully and Mulder's genetic tampering via sundry Consortium experiments?

The most likely explanation is the spaceship, since many other abductees have been experimented on, returned, and created families of their own without any noteworthy changes to their offspring. Realistically, William was created by the showrunners to be a completely ordinary miracle for Scully and Mulder-- Mulder's lines in Existence ("...maybe he isn't what they thought he was. That doesn't make him any less of a miracle, does it?") served as the period to the sentence of the series; and was written before there was definitive confirmation for Season 9 and without the "magic child" plotline put into place-- but, canonically, he is a wee baby with incredibly advanced, out-of-this-world powers that will eventually grow into a psychopathic-- excuse me, floundering-- teenager. This draws us back to the alien ship as the origin of life: healing not only that dead fish but also Scully's reproductive inability; and laying the groundwork for little William's enhanced abilities.

How the Syndicate Shot Themselves in the Foot (Again)

An interesting note on the shadow project and genetic tampering: I believe the Syndicate hindered the ova's viability because of the tests they put the women through before extraction, changing both mother and child's DNA so much so that the eggs and resulting fetus could not-- barring medical assistance-- successfully thrive if grown outside of their mothers' bodies.

How can I back up this theory? With Season 8's Per Manum and Essence.

Dr. Parenti and his narrowed cohorts found that he could grow alien-human fetuses to full term in a woman's womb with better results; and began using his clients as hosts, swapping the alien fetus at birth with their own (test-tube grown) "normal" baby. He then ruthlessly harvested or killed them in various developmental stages, preserving their remains in jars for future testing; and, of course, carefully disguised his unethical practice as above-board research into fetal deformities.

Why does this matter? It means Parenti and his merry men of Syndicate leftovers are the only ones-- that we know of-- who could bring alien-human or strictly alien fetuses to term without genetic "padding", cloning, or lifelong medical intervention to keep them from destabilizing. Furthermore, the women he selected for IVF treatments were former abductees who had a history of infertility; meaning, he specialized in creating babies for and out of women with tampered genetics that the Consortium cast aside as useless garbage.

The Consortium had unwittingly created the perfect hosts for their enhanced ova but failed to recognize this; and, instead, used their abductees as chattel, or killed them off when they were deemed no longer useful.

In short, they failed. Again.

In Conclusion

The mytharc may be a mess; but at least it stirs together psychic ability and alien DNA in a sort-of edible hodgepodge.

For canon deniers post Season 7, psychic ability is still tied to Gibson Praise and humanity's inherent alien DNA; for canon deniers post Season 8, Scully's fertility is still "fixed" by the alien spaceship; and for all-canon viewers, William's powers are still enhanced because the alien spaceship intensified his preexisting alien DNA.

Was any of this intended by the writers? No, probably not.

Does it make sense in the grand scheme of things? Perhaps.

At any rate, this is the most coherent the mytharc has been in a while; and I'll take it.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[osamusbigtits]

osamu watches suna stretch on the volleyball court. he's smiling, komori and washio on either side of him. suna's probably saying something annoying. if the grimaces around him mean anything.

the girl sitting next to osamu giggles with her friend, talking about how cute the 6'3 middle blocker is.

he's taken, osamu thinks, smiling to himself.

the other chair next to him is left empty. akaashi was supposed to come with, but got called into work on a last-minute project. suna was disappointed to hear it.

osamu doesn't mind. he's wanted a night alone with suna for a while. its been hard, between their busy schedules, trying to manage their new long-distance relationship with two other people now, and finances for osamu being a little tighter than he'd like.

osamu is a little selfish. he doesn't want to share suna tonight. he wants his pretty boyfriend all to himself.

watching volleyball always brings a familiar warmth to osamu's chest. an old love lain dormant bringing itself to life once again. it makes him ache, in a way. sometimes, he wishes he were still on the court.

suna finally spots osamu in the crowd. the girls next to him freak out, assuming the middle blocker shoots a smile their way. but osamu knows it's all his.

and when the game is over, suna's team losing by just one point, osamu's glad to see suna still smiling when osamu sneaks his way into the locker room. (security and other members involved know osamu well enough to turn a blind eye. maybe it has to do with his food bribes every once and a while.)

suna's quick to make his way to osamu and hug him tight. osamu tucks his face into suna's shoulder and breathes in his scent.

"fuck, I've missed you," suna mutters.

there are some cheers around them and suna laughs. osamu decides to give the assholes a show and kisses suna, gaining more cheers. and a comment of "get a room" from a few of suna's teammates.

osamu pulls back to give suna a chance to change. suna kisses osamu once more before walking away.

after lingering conversations, and declining multiple invites to go out drinking, suna and osamu finally make their way to suna's apartment. they keep their fingers intertwined, shoulders bumping together as they walk. a calm silence rests between them as they ride the train. they share smiles and steal glances at each other.

suna's eagerness finally shows through when they walk through the front doors of the apartment complex. suna tugs osamu through the lobby.

osamu embraces suna once suna unlocks the door, pushing them both inside. suna kisses osamu as osamu kicks the door closed.

"samu," suna says between kisses. "I need you to cook for me. I'm hungry and I've missed your cooking."

osamu groans. "fuck, that's the sexiest thing you've ever said."

suna laughs and hugs osamu a little tighter.

they linger in the doorway, just holding and kissing each other for a while longer, until suna finally pushes osamu and tells him to get in the kitchen.

osamu really needed this. just to have suna. to cook for him, kissing him, holding him. and suna needed it to, as evident by the smile plastered on his face.

[bonesandthebees]

as an adult fanfiction writer myself (i'm in my 20s, too), it's really impressive how much progress you've made with your writing. how do you balance writing with other adult priorities? this is what i struggle myself; i want to be able to write, but i don't seem to have enough time. i recently deleted all my old drafts and most of my outlines so i could focus on writing a few stories in mind. idk if this is the way to go, but i made my decision.

p.s. i'm on my way to read your sbi stories, they sound great.

oooo what a good question!

well, for one thing I think I need to say that I'm technically unemployed at the moment (and technically have been for the past year due to family stuff going on) which definitely gives me more time to write compared to if I had a full time job. but at the same time I do kind of have a job? I don't like revealing too many details about my personal life on this blog, but let's just say I kind of work for a family member (but I don't get paid for it). either way, I do have more free time than the average 23 year old probably does so that certainly helps

at the same time though, I actually wrote more while I was a full time uni student. like, I wrote clinic in 6 months during my senior year of uni. still not sure how I did that one. so maybe it's not the unemployment thing lol

ok I rambled a bit too much on this so I'm going to put it under the cut

either way, I do have a lot of daily responsibilities that I have to schedule my writing around which does present a challenge. I'd say two major things contribute to me being able to write so much: one, I just write way faster than most people can write. And two: I put a lot of effort into recognizing the scope of my own abilities, and try not to put too many projects on my plate at once.

with the whole being able to write really fast thing, that's the result of years and years of intensive writing practice. from the time I was around 13-14ish, I started trying to write almost daily. around 15 is when I discovered fanfic, and once I was actually able to write things I could post online and get feedback on, whenever I sat down for a near daily writing session my goal would be to write a minimum of 1k words. a lot of the time I missed this goal, but it was fine and I just kept trying, not beating myself up too much about it because I viewed it all as practice. I wanted to get really good at writing, which is why I just kept at it, knowing it would get easier with time. and it did!

in short, practicing writing, any writing at all regardless of if it's going to be published or not, will help you get faster at writing. now this is going to conflict with the next thing I talk about, but I digress

now, the easier thing to emulate is managing the projects you work on. in my head I have about 3 categories of wips—actively working on to publish, off to the side dormant that I'm either planning on getting to or I might get around to, and never going to see the light of day but I'm working on it just for myself. if I decide to mentally move a wip into the 'active' category, I need to make sure it's the type of story I'm going to enjoy working on and will be able to complete. then when I have free time, I know that's going to be a top priority and I need to focus on that before other things. if I have a wip in the dormant category, if I have free time and I either don't have anything I need to actively work on to publish (like if I just posted a chapter the day before) or I really just don't want to work on my active wips, then I can take a second look at my dormant wip outlines and see if writing any of them gets the juices flowing. then there's the never see the light of day wips, and those I can write at any time because it's just for me, and yeah I should prioritize the active wips over them and I usually will, but also writing is a hobby I enjoy first and foremost. and also, any writing practice will help you. so even if you don't plan to publish it, writing a self indulgent thing will help you get faster, build stamina, improve your writing—all of that stuff.

so I think what you described with deleting old outlines/drafts makes sense, but also I never delete my old writing drafts just bc I love seeing my progress over the years but that's just me. but either way, making an effort to focus on active wips is a smart move, but also remember that not everything you write has to be published. the more practice you get with writing (and by that I mean literally any writing at all), the easier it's going to be to write longer things and finish them. you build that stamina like a muscle, and it can take a very long time to build it up enough, but it's definitely worth it in the end.

also just experiment with how you outline and plan stuff in a way that works for your brain, because when you have to write around adult responsibilities you have to streamline things as much as possible. despite the fact that I started writing fic at 15, I struggled so much with finishing long fics until I started writing for dsmp when I had just turned 21. and that's because I figured out a new outlining method that worked perfectly for my brain. it was a combination of planning some things, but not everything so that I kept myself interested in the story. experiment with how much or how little you plan your stories, because when you have a limited time to write, you want it to be something you're interested in and able to dive right into writing.

sorry this was so long winded, I really suck at giving short answers sometimes. hope that helps though! remember, the most important thing is that you're enjoying what you're doing :)

[p3ski]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 5K

"Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out." 

Gavin was only vaguely tuned in to what Tina was saying as he rummaged through his closet in search of a ‘nice’ shirt. Nice was less of the primary concern, with the more pressing issue being that the majority of clothes were either horribly creased or visibly snug—a testament to all the morning jogs and laundry he’d been skipping out on. 

With all his usual favourites piled in a hamper, he settled for a long-neglected button-down pushed to the back of the hangers. He couldn’t remember where he’d gotten it, but he suspected it had been from a misguided Secret Santa a couple of years back. 

Maybe it’ll look better on, he thought to himself. With his phone on speaker, he slipped his arms into the shirt and fastened the buttons. "Ti, you were the one that said I have two options: Either I screw Nines or I screw a stranger. I'm opting for the latter; it's less complicated." 

Upon surveying himself in the mirror, any optimism he had dissipated. The shirt fit, but that was about all it achieved—with the wide cut creating a box-like shape and the red, satin material clashing widely with his usual style. 

"But is that what you want?" Tina pressed. "Gav, I'm worried. You haven't been this torn up over someone since Jake."

"This is nothing like Jake", he grumbled defensively. "We dated for five fucking years, and then he cheated on me. I've known Nines for five fucking minutes. He's my...."

Gavin honestly didn’t know. Maybe they had been friends—or something resembling that—before everything had gone to Hell. As things stood now, he would be hard-pressed to call them friendly acquaintances. 'Distant’ or ‘begrudging’ seemed more accurate. 

Leaning towards the mirror, he continued to scrutinise his underwhelming appearance. He noted the coarse bristles that had lengthened significantly around his jaw as he attempted to smooth down his hair. A dormant self-loathing churned his stomach, wreaking havoc on his already tenuous confidence—as he picked up the keys that he had set on his nightstand and readied himself to leave the apartment. "I've got to go." 

There was silence from the other end of the receiver. It was clear that Tina regretted the advice she had given to her increasingly volatile friend—but did not want to allow this to manifest as coercion or nagging. 

"Have fun", she said with an exhale, as if straining to keep her tone light. "And try to be nice. I know that can be challenging." 

"I won't bite his dick off unless he's into it." 

"Gross." She made an exaggerated gagging noise before chuckling. "Call me tomorrow, okay?"  

"Sure. If it's a fucking disaster, which it probably will be, you'll wanna hear all about it." 

By the time Gavin arrived at the restaurant, he was twenty minutes late. Waving off a doorman who had come to greet him, he quietly surveyed the illuminated bar opposite the entrance, looking for anyone resembling his date. While his search came up empty, the plethora of bottles that adorned the shelves quietly teased him. Unable to resist the growing temptation, he decided he'd order a drink. Or two. However many it took to quell his nerves.

As time ticked by, he grew increasingly suspicious that his date had given up waiting. While the loss of a prospective hook-up was disappointing, it was no major blow. All it meant was an evening free to enjoy more familiar comforts—like a fridge full of beer and a room full of cats. Downing his glass in record time, he sent a quick update to Tina:

You:

Wanna see a pic of my date? 

He followed this up with a blurry snap of his right hand, to which Tina replied with a series of hearts. 

Actually Decent

[8:31 pm] Omg he's cute you must be so nervous.

[8:32 pm] Guessing you got stood up?

You: 

I mean I was pretty late. So I guess I stood him up

Just paid $10 for a whiskey. i'm going home. 

He was about to make his exit when he felt a light tap on his shoulder: "Gavin?"

As he turned to face the stranger, his interest subtly reignited. His date was more handsome in person. Tantalisingly tall and lean, styled impeccably in a fitted black shirt that hinted at well-sculpted muscles. After a respectable pause to savour the view, Gavin cleared his throat. "Last I checked. Alex, right?"

As it soon transpired, Alex was a talker—which made matters easier for Gavin, who was far from having the mental exuberance to exert into conversation. His voice was pleasant enough to listen to, rich in tones and inflexions that the detective was struggling to place the origin of. 

"—I’d been friends with the captain for a couple of years, but I was still surprised to be invited to play with them. They had always been pretty exclusive."

"Uh, yeah. Football." He made a strained attempt to reply, hoping to sound at least somewhat engaged. "I played for a bit in Middle School." 

His efforts backfired horribly as Alex put a premature end to his story, eyebrows pinched in confusion. "It was basketball…are you okay? You seem distracted." 

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright, just—" He stumbled with his words, trying to think of something to say. While the wine his date had purchased for them was providing a pleasant buzz, it was doing little to bolster his social skills. Any semblance of a filter swiftly abandoned him as he stumbled headfirst into a verbal swan dive. "You said your name was Alex, right? You don’t sound like an Alex." 

In what could only be considered an act of divine intervention, his date didn't take offence. If anything, he seemed charmed by the remark, chuckling around the rim of his glass before lowering it to reply. "It’s short for Alexei. I was born in Moscow, my family and I moved to America when I was nine. I have never been able to shift the accent, as much as I've tried." 

"Huh. Russian." Gavin cursed the vacancy of his reply, treating himself to a particularly large swig of wine. 

"Where did you grow up?"

"Down the street. I didn't get far, I'm not that interesting." 

"I wouldn't say that." Alex chuckled, his eyes focused on the glass that seemed perpetually drawn to the other man's lips. "You shouldn't be nervous. I'm enjoying your company." 

If their current locale was anything to go by, Gavin found that hard to believe. The tables surrounding them were extravagantly adorned with floral centrepieces and expensive silverware. Well-dressed couples stole sultry glances under the glow of candlelight. It was a far cry from the low-rent bars, and back alley fumbles that he was used to.

"This isn't really my scene." He motioned himself up and down, drawing attention to his less-than-polished appearance. "If I’d known you'd be slumming it going out with me, I probably wouldn't have messaged first." 

Alex tilted his head to one side as though taking some time to process the words. Gavin waited in anticipation for him to realise his error—to fold up his satin napkin and stand up, politely calling it an evening. Surprisingly, however, he stayed put, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. "I don't mean to undermine you, but I was the one who messaged first. Several weeks ago." 

More than a little dubious at the smoothly delivered claim, Gavin picked up his phone and opened USwipe. Scrolling back through the previous chat logs, he scrutinised them in greater detail. He soon discovered that the man was being genuine. 

"Huh. Guess you did." His voice was low and deadpanned in hopes of disguising his embarrassment. It seemed almost comedic for him to have missed such an obvious detail, especially given his profession. "I've been off the app for a while. Must have missed the notifications." 

"We're here now, so I’m willing to forgive you." Alex leant forward in his chair as he shot him a candid wink. "I'm sure there are ways you can make it up to me." 

Gavin only half-acknowledged the flirting, his attention divided as he methodically scrolled through the backlog of messages. Considering how blatantly out of his league Alex seemed to be, it was astonishing how persistently he'd been trying to flag his attention. 

"Damn, you were keen." He had not meant for the comment to sound as condescending as it did. 

Fortunately, the other man appeared to take it in stride, laughing exuberantly as he threw up his hands. "Guilty. Aside from the obvious physical attraction, you seemed like an interesting person, and I wanted to get to know you better." 

"Like I said, I'm not that interesting—

Which is why my profile is full of bullshit." 

"Oh?" Alex looked down at his plate, using his knife and fork to cut a piece of neglected steak. "You mean to tell me you aren’t really 6 foot?" 

"5'9 on a good day."

"Devastating. I’m unsure how I’ll ever recover." 

This managed to draw out a laugh from Gavin. "Seriously though, it's not all bullshit. I do have a cat, and I am a Detective." 

"Sounds to me like you were honest enough. About the things that matter." Alex forked a piece of meat into his mouth, chewing appreciatively. "Do you enjoy your work?"

Any temporary uplift in mood seemed to dampen almost immediately as Gavin stared into his glass, scowling. "For the most part, I do." 

"Why only most?"

"The case I'm on is taking a lot out of me and my partner." The words only exacerbated his rising anger. He gripped the stem of his glass tightly, trying his best not to let the unpleasant emotion get the best of him. "We don't see eye to eye."  

"I can understand difficult co-workers", Alex said attentively. "Is it a case of conflicting work styles, or is it more personal?"

"A bit of both, it's complicated."

Lips forming into a silent ‘ah’, Alex returned his attention to his plate. "Some differences can be hard to overlook." It sounded genuinely sympathetic as he spoke through another soft smile. "What department do you work in?"

"Homicide." 

He waited in trepidation for his date's response. There had been more than a couple of times in his life when prospective encounters had run a mile upon hearing what he did for a living. Perhaps it was the intrinsic involvement with corpses. 

His current company didn’t seem to mind, responding with an intrigued hum. "I know very little about the work, but I’ve always had an interest in True Crime. Have you worked on any cases I may be familiar with?" 

Gavin frowned, acknowledging this as the other response he'd grown accustomed to. People fascinated with the macabre, keen to know all the gruesome details. He was hardly in a position to judge, given his contentious taste in movies, but he'd always found it a little tone-deaf when applied to real-life suffering. 

His personal sentiments made little difference, however, as it was a line of inquiry he was obliged to shut down. "Can't really say. Confidentiality and shit."

Alex's expression fell. He promptly abandoned his cutlery, staring up at Gavin intently. "Of course not. I'm sorry for asking."

"It's fine, you're just curious." Reaching for the cooler in the centre of the table, Gavin retrieved the bottle and generously refilled his glass. Taking note of his date's dwindling supplies, he reached for the other glass when a hand shot out to stop him.

"I’m a bit of a lightweight", Alex informed, chuckling sheepishly. "Unless you want to carry me later, I think I ought to slow down."

Gavin scoffed, struggling to believe that the man was light on anything. Even seated, his imposing stature could not be concealed, with large hands and limbs that seemed to dwarf the perfectly average-sized table. "Couldn't carry you out if I tried. You're like 8 feet tall." 

It clearly wasn’t the first time Alex had heard this sort of remark, as he rolled his eyes with well-rehearsed dismissal. "Maybe I should put that on my profile. I've only lived here for a couple of months; is there much of a market for giants in Detroit?" 

"You'd be surprised how many people are into it—" Gavin smirked, taking a sip of his newly poured drink. "like to be thrown around."

"Are you one of them?" 

This uplift in confidence proved poorly timed, as Gavin nearly painted the table with a splattering of wine. If they were going to start talking about kinks over dinner, he would need something a lot stronger. 

"It's not a great time to be living in Detroit", he continued, trying to stay at least somewhat on topic. "For dating, or anything else, really." 

"It does feel like things have become a little…unstable." There was a looming severity to Alex’s tone as his gaze bore forward, intense and unwavering. "Rapidly degrading infrastructure and an increase in violent crime. Why do you think that is?" 

Gavin struggled not to laugh at the verbose question. It was glaringly obvious the sort of lifestyle his date was accustomed to, with 'sheltered rich kid' was all but tattooed across his forehead. "I feel like a lot of it has to do with the Revolution." 

Alex hummed in understanding, "I never had an android myself, but it must have been difficult for those who did. A bit like receiving a government mandate that your smartphone be granted equal rights." 

The same joke he would have laughed at a few weeks prior now left Gavin with a painful churn in his stomach. "A lot of people don't wanna believe it," he fired back, with a little more firmness than intended. "That the 'machines' they've been using and abusing for years think and feel just like us." 

"I imagine many can't believe it."

"This is getting depressing as fuck." The detective looked down at his bowl, absentmindedly twirling the noodles he had lost all appetite for. "Let's change the subject. What do you do for work?" 

"I'm a Senior Urban Planner." 

Gavin raised his eyebrows, humming in bemusement. "That would explain the sexy architect talk." It was undoubtedly an attempt at flirting, although perhaps not one of his best. "It's funny, you were starting to sound just like a—" 

Fuck. 

Fucking shit. 

His fork fell into his food with a thud. It was hard to ignore that Alex conformed to a certain 'type'. One that he was developing a burgeoning taste for. 

"Any projects I'd be interested in?" he asked, trying his best not to dwell on the similarities between his estranged partner and the handsome stranger sitting across from him.

"The primary focus of my team is Historic and Cultural Preservation," Alex began, a glint of excitement in his eyes, "Tell me: If you had to choose between prioritising the restoration of more traditional establishments or focusing on ongoing modernisation, which would you pick?" 

Gavin shrugged, unsure how to answer. "Well, I'm not really a History guy, so I'd probably go with modernisation." 

The vibrant light was promptly extinguished. Alex moved back, lips turned downwards in distaste. "Not an uncommon answer, but still…a shame. Your city has a rich history, the appreciation for which is rapidly dwindling." 

With hindsight, the detective realised that he should have dialled back the honesty—or, at the very least, delivered it with a little more tact. "Okay, no more talk about work", he insisted. "You're up next on the 'small talk' draw, let's hope you pick a decent topic."

Alex laughed, returning to his previously relaxed state with remarkable ease. Either the man boasted a tremendous capacity for positivity, or he had a thing for 'projects'. In any case, he seemed completely undeterred by Gavin's persistent lack of charm. 

"Tell me more about your cat. What’s their name?" 

"Tiffany—and there’s not much to tell, really. She’s a furry little hellspawn with a diva complex." His lips pressed together in thought, and his gaze drifted to his phone. "...Wanna see some pictures?" 

"Yes, please."

Gavin smoothly adjusted his chair until they were seated side by side. As he scrolled through his camera reel, Alex appeared genuinely captivated. 

"This one is very cute," he commented, pointing to a snapshot of Tiffany snuggled rear-first on Gavin's chest, tail coiled around his face. "You should add it to your USwipe profile. I guarantee it would net a few more matches."

"Bit a cheap move, though, isn't it? Using my pet as date bait." In his absent scrolling, Gavin didn’t realise how far he was travelling back. This was until he landed on a picture of a much younger Tiffany being held in the arms of a smiling brunette. 

"Who's that?" his date asked casually, "A friend of yours?"

"My ex, actually." The admission flowed with remarkable ease as it struck Gavin just how little it hurt to say. "That was the day we brought Tiff home; she was a gift for our one-year anniversary. Lost the guy but kept the cat. Shit happens, I guess."

Alex cast him a look of sympathy. "Was the guy worth keeping?"

Lips pursed, Gavin examined the photo with greater scrutiny. Tina had been right after all. With small, beady eyes and large ears that protruded a little too much, Jake really did look like a rat. "Hell no."

"Then I'd say it was a fair trade-off." The man beamed with infectious enthusiasm, revealing a row of straight white teeth. "What breed is she?"

"The kind you find rooting around in the garbage." 

Gavin laughed a little too enthusiastically at the joke. Considering he'd been the one to make it, and that it wasn't all that funny. With self-awareness creeping back in, he went to re-retrieve the wine bottle, only to discover that it was empty. 

"I'm guessing you're a cat person." He pronounced each word carefully in an attempt to downplay his intoxication. 

"A hundred per cent—

Unfortunately, mine passed away recently."

"Shit." Gavin blurted out thoughtlessly. He silently lamented that he could not think of anything more comforting to say as Alex stared into space, trapped in forlorn introspection. 

"Her name was Coco, a Ragdoll-Birman cross", he wistfully recalled. "She was an old girl, had a good life."

"Don't suppose you're in the market for another cat? Mine just had babies, and I'm gonna go bankrupt if I decide to keep them all." 

"That's very kind, but I'll have to decline. I had Coco for fourteen years. I was very attached." He paused, watching the other man closely as he took a slow, measured sip of wine. "I would, however, love to meet yours." 

Despite his thickening haze of inebriation, the implications of this were not lost on Gavin. He tried his best to maintain his composure despite the small flutter of excitement blooming in his stomach. "Are you inviting yourself over?"

"That depends. Are you interested?" 

The question seemed absurd. The man was stunning, comparable to a model. Of course, he ought to be interested. Despite this, Gavin hesitated, with no clear reason as to why. 

This had been what he'd wanted, after all. A chance to release all his burdensome tensions. The opportunity was presenting itself on a silver platter, and he'd be an idiot to pass it up. "I mean, kittens are great therapy. Who am I to say no?" 

Upon leaving the restaurant, the AutoTaxi rank outside was frustratingly empty. With some persistence, they were eventually able to hail a ride in a driver-manned car. It wasn't long after its departure that Alex took advantage of the darkened surroundings, indulging in some stolen touches.��

A wandering hand settled down to stroke the contours of Gavin's thigh, travelling upwards until fingers were brushing the line of his zipper. The teasing did not progress much further, however, as a long, disparaging cough from the driver put an abrupt end to the advances. Alex moved away, showing a willingness to restrain himself for a little while longer.

This restraint extended to the length of time it took to enter the apartment—as not moments after Gavin had shut the door, hands were on hin again. A gentle grip encompassed his midsection, tracing the line between his navel and hips. The touches were light, almost tender until fingers dug their way in, firmly pulling back. The subsequent friction came with a host of silent promises as the shorter man was unable to suppress a gasp. 

"You know, I'm startin' to think that you don't really want to see the cats." Gavin leant into the touch, struggling to keep his bearings.

"I can want more than one thing." Alex mused, allowing his breath to teasingly ghost the nape of his neck. "How about we say a quick hello, and then you can show me to your bedroom?" 

As requested, the detective clumsily guided his guest to the bathroom, almost stumbling headfirst on a cat toy as he did. "Just keep your distance from mom", he advised. "She isn't great with strangers." 

The warning had been well-deserved, as throughout their time in the room, Tiffany's eyes remained trained fixedly on Alex. Her apprehension quickly morphed into hostility as she shifted to an upright stance, poised to strike. When the man made the error of leaning in to steal a look at the kittens, the cat swatted a paw toward him, hissing aggressively. 

"Hey, fuckin' stop it", Gavin chided, subduing his agitated pet with a gentle stroke of her back. "Sorry. Like I said, she's a little feisty." 

Alex seemed almost completely unfazed, chuckling gently as he drew back to a safe distance. "Protective, I'd say—of you and her babies. I think that's sweet." 

"Just don't take it personally, she's like it with everyone. The only person she hasn't immediately gone for is—"    

Dammit. 

Gavin felt lips on his neck, forming a tight seal as they sought to leave marks. "She's lucky to have you caring for her." The low tones rumbled against his flesh as a scrape of teeth wreaked havoc with his clouded senses. "Tell me: When was the last time someone took care of you?" 

Swallowing a shaky breath, Gavin's reply was low and strained. "It's been a while." 

"Let me change that." 

Then he was pressed to the wall, a pair of strong hands securing his wrists as a tongue gently prised at his lips. Any anticipation that had been building promptly fizzled out, as the experience was immediately tainted by an unfortunate sense of deja vu. 

Gavin tried his best to indulge in the man's fumbled touches but found himself drifting subconsciously. The hands that bound him were a little too coarse, and the tongue too rough as it poked its way through. It left him feeling unfulfilled, wishing for something else.

Feigning enthusiasm, he moaned weakly into the kiss, sliding a hand up Alex's chest. Gavin waited for something to ignite, anything that might tell him he still wanted this—but found nothing but persistent numbness. 

His lack of excitement had not gone unnoticed by the other man, who seemed confused at the lack of activity when he ground their hips together. 

"Are you okay?" Alex asked slowly. "We can slow down a bit if you want." 

Gavin could have easily made an excuse about being too drunk—or pushed himself forward despite his reservations—but found himself unable to do so. It felt wrong to allow things to continue, knowing full-well that any intimacy shared would be plagued by thoughts of someone else. 

"Look, it’s not you", he sighed, eyes shut tight in frustration. "Obviously, it's not you. I’m just in a bit of a shit place right now." 

"I wouldn't want to force you into anything. We can cuddle—or even just talk—if you think that might help?" 

"I don't think so." He placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, encouraging him to move away. "I just can't do this right now'. 

The other man did not resist the touch, although he did persist in his questioning. "Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" 

"No, you haven't, I just—" There was a nausea that was becoming increasingly harder for Gavin to ignore. He was unsure if the source was psychological or if there was a real danger he might be sick. "It’s really fucking complicated." 

A thoughtful pause hung in the air as Alex digested the information. Then he hummed as if arriving at a quiet revelation. "...Your partner. I see. That is unfortunate." 

"It's probably best if you leave", he replied, coming to his own sobering conclusion. "I'm sorry for messing you around." 

"I understand." The other man stood up, masking any disappointment as respectfully as possible. He seemed to take a moment to gather himself before finally speaking again. "Maybe it's not my place to say, but I can see that you're hurting. I hope that you'll act in your best interests and make the right choice." 

"Thanks." Gavin leant his head backwards, finding it increasingly hard to hold upright. He stared at the whirring extractor fan, trying to focus his vision. "And sorry—again." 

"It's okay. You have my number; if you ever need to talk to someone, I'll be happy to listen." 

After Alex had left, Gavin sat alone in the bathroom for quite some time. The mewls of the kittens and the noise of the fan were the only things to ground him as he sank to a new emotional low. With fumbling hands, he grabbed his phone, opening an unread message from Tina:

Actually Decent (2)

[10:59 pm] did you jerk off yet

[11:00 pm] how would you rate the experience on a scale of 1-10

You: 

ti im fucked up 

its nibes

nines* 

hes got my head messed up. i dont know what to do 

It wasn't until after he sent the message that he realised the time. There was a very good chance his friend was asleep and wouldn't see his text until morning, long after his crisis had ended. Spurred on by drunken reasoning, Gavin concluded that if he wanted to find any semblance of closure, he would need to confront the source.

It only took three rings for his partner to answer: 

"Detective Reed…?" His voice was slow and cautious like he was questioning the plausibility of the call. 

"Nines, this is fucked," Gavin groaned down the receiver, any sense of shame having deserted him with his sobriety. "It's all fucked up. Can we please just talk about it?"

The silence that followed was stifling. It was unclear if the android was working to decipher the man's disordered words or if he had simply hung up on him. Gavin lifted his phone to check when a voice called out, beckoning his attention:

"It is very late," Nines informed, in a way that nestled uncannily between reprimand and concern. "It would be best to defer this discussion until morning. After you’ve rested." 

"If I don't say this now, I never will." The man kicked out his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position, only to lodge himself awkwardly between the wall and the bathtub. "I don't want to ‘wash my hands’ of you. I like being partners, I like havin' you around, and I wanna believe that you do as well."

"You're slurring your words. I'm struggling to understand what you're saying." 

"If it means forgetting about the…thing that happened, I'm happy to do it." In an attempt to wriggle from his unfavourable position, he allowed his head to slip further back, inadvertently knocking the sink. 

The dull thud that ensued was clearly audible through the receiver as Nines was quick to address it. "Gavin, have you fallen?"

"Nah, I just hit m' head."

"Are you alone?" The concern in his tone had become much more apparent, "Do I need to come over?"

"I'm fine, seriously. I just want us to be fine as well. I know that sounds stupid; we've only been partners for a couple of weeks, but I really was startin' to feel…" He trailed off, rubbing his head as a sharp ache set in. "Fuck, that really hurt." 

"You're drunk", his partner concluded with a low exhale. "I suggest you go to bed before you cause yourself any further injury." 

Gavin grappled with another wave of nausea, sending him on a sloppy recline towards the toilet. "Can't. Think I might puke", he complained, retching as he did. "Look, just listen for a minute. There was somethin’ else I wanted to say. I need to think." 

"If I listen, will you promise to heed my suggestion? After you've emptied your stomach, of course." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." 

As his head slipped into the bowl, Gavin realised he had no clear plan for what he wanted to say, having hoped that the words would find him in a moment of drunken enlightenment. Unsure how else to proceed, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You're not a toaster. I don't know why I said that. I was just mad." 

"I believe you implied that I wasn't a toaster—as a toaster would be incapable of being such a 'cruel, vindictive asshole'." 

"Fuuuuck", the strain in his voice, combined with the echo of his current surroundings, lent a strange theatrics to the expletive. "That's worse, isn't it? I’m really sorry." 

Nines dismissed his concerns, albeit with an amused huff. "Don't be. My behaviour over the last few days has been deplorable. I was upset over a personal issue, and I took this out on you. That was wrong and deeply unfair. I hope you can forgive me." 

'Personal issue' invited more questions than Gavin would have cared for. While he considered pressing for more information, he ultimately decided against it. 

If it meant salvaging the budding connection they had established, he would delay speculation about what it meant—or what it might become. "If you're sorry too, does that mean we're okay?" 

"I sincerely hope so."

[thirdmagic]

about a year ago i played a VN called it gets so lonely here and i loved it so much it revitalized my dormant dream to make games and visual novels with multiple routes in particular. and that was a fairly short game so i went 'best way to start is to make something like this right, something short and quick, with a limited amount of art and cgs, that i can make within a year, maybe half a year to eight months if i really push myself, and it'll have yandere lesbians and evil bad fucked up yuri and it'll be self-indulgently horny and have everything i specifically search for in VNs and never seem to get in one package'. and instead i found myself developing kind of an epic, with at least four routes, each one with a variety of endings, a specific order of play, a unique world setting (... one that might be a bit controversial, conceptually, but), basically the kind of VN that would take me years to make because i'd write and draw for it myself, and i was like. well, i guess this is my next project when i'm done with my degree, after i get a job, something to work on in my off-hours, which means it'll probably take twice the amount of time.

then this year in our first semester we had a game jam class, and in that one i mostly just did the art and sprites/backgrounds but i dipped a bit into what game development looks like. and that revitalized my dream to actually make actual games, if very, very short/simple ones, because learning even extremely basic unity concepts kind of broke my brain and i am just not cut out for the technical side of it, so preferably in partnership with someone who actually knows how to coding. and someone less STEMbro-minded than the people i was stuck working with. although it did remind me that i had a fuckton of fun with rpg maker back when i tried to make games in it and that might be fun to do and it is something i could be able to figure out the code in because that was an engine that my numbers-resistant brain could work with.

anyway i've been playing shortish VNs again and i'm starting to think i need to just make a kinetic novel first. or, again, if a multiple-route/choice-based VN, commit to the shortness and actually make one that doesn't take more than one or two hours to play through so i can reasonably make it. and with simple/straightforward branching paths rather than the complex ones that i love and dream of but are just going to take months to work out on their own. idk. i just know independent VN making has long been a dream for me (right next to making animated shows and movies) and it's starting to feel more feasible than before.

[sp00ky-scary]

I redesigned Harvey Dent

Basically all I did was make him gayer, anyway time for design notes and bonus Harvey without the coat

I'm not explaining how he became Two-Face because that would literally just be me explaining the lead up to and the plot of the Long Halloween with a few changes. I will however explain other parts of his life though… mostly just because I have to in order to explain his mental disorder. But what I will say is he and Bruce Wayne attended school together and were really good friends up until he became Two-Face. At which point their relationship became strained and difficult but Bruce would still describe them as friends, Two-Face idk if he would.

So basically as is almost a requirement for rogues at this point, Harvey had a really shit childhood. Mostly in relation to his father who was insanely abusive, this abuse led to Harvey developing DID (dissociative identity disorder) with his only alter being Harv (idk that's just the name I'm going with for now). Harv like in theory would be considered a protector but like he goes about it in not great ways, in some ways mirroring their fathers actions. Prior to becoming Two-Face, Harv like wouldn't front fully except when Harvey was in like really bad situations, and once Harvey left home was pretty I guess dormant until the Long Halloween stuff. To note Harvey was to some degree aware of Harv but didn't really understand like what was going on for a really long time. When Harvey had his mental break after the incident that left him disfigured, that and all the events leading up to it resulted in both Harvey and Harv fronting at the same time, and from then on it's very rare for only one of them to front. (I know that's like a bit illogical but we're also talking about Batman villains here).

I would like to clarify all the events during the Long Halloween prior to the incident were like 100% Harvey, like Harv was not involved, if anything Harv probably would've been more inclined to prevent Harvey's actions. Anyway personality time, pre Two-Face Harvey was basically a golden boy with a few anger issues, and despite his apparent belief in the justice system and doing stuff the right way, he didn't really adhere to all that (see literally everything that happened in the Long Halloween). Basically despite how others saw him as like a beacon of morality and like wanting the best for Gotham and being a good person, he like actually wasn't great, although admittedly as assistant D.A and D.A he did do some good work. Post becoming Two-Face he's obsessed with duality and his warped version of morality and justice, and is more openly violent. Harv isn't like the same as Harvey but they do share similarities, he's very defensive and protective, but he's more impulsive and his actions are based more on instinct and anger, and in terms of violence he's not more violent he's just a bit more sadistic. But really Harv exists in theory to do what's best for Harvey, and it isn't a case of Harvey's good and Harv's bad, both are complicated and the idea that one of them is good and the other is bad is a result of Harvey and his almost hatred of Harv, often projecting his issues onto him and for a long time believing that Harv is evil and a culmination of the negative parts of himself. Harvey had to spend a lot of years doing a lot of self reflection and therapy and stuff and it took him a long time to come to terms with Harv and the reality of their situation. I would like to note they do still have the coin gimmick, sometimes it is "do we do the right thing or the wrong thing" but sometimes the "right" thing and the "wrong" thing are both not great things, because as I said Harvey's prescribing to his own warped sense of morality and justice (also the coin is his dad's coin).

Okay design notes, he dresses pretty boring and basic before becoming Two-Face, because well he's a D.A not much room for fashion there, although he did always have some interest in fashion and like different styles of clothing but never got like the chance to explore that. As Two-Face they has the whole split gimmick with their clothes, the "Harvey" side often being nicer more toned down clothes, and the "Harv" side being more unusual clothes with clashing patterns and colours. Sometimes they do dress "nicer" but they'll still maintain the whole 50/50 split thing. As a result of the incident the left side of his face, part of the left of their neck, most of gis left hand and forearm, are disfigured, with a few patches across their chest and left upper arm from where the acid melted through Harvey's clothes. Don't question how he has more hair and how it's not really fried, comic logic. Also just to be "quirky" and "different" I guess his face isn't split exactly 50/50 I just liked the look of it being more uneven better. Oh also he still wears his wedding ring. Arkham, Two-Face is pretty chill unless someone sets them off so they don't have to deal with cuffs or a straight jacket or anything when out of their cell. I don't know how they got a mismatched uniform, I personally think it's funny if Arkham did it specially hoping that somehow it'd make them more content with being in a fucking asylum.

Random additional notes, they're bi, both Harvey and Harv although Harv doesn't particularly care for any kind of relationship. I wouldn't say they're friends with any of the rogues, but they've had close relationships with a few of them but those relationships do not last and often turn sour. I like to think they know how to sew and tailor and a lot of their clothes are made/modified by them. Also to clarify the use of both he/him and they/them pronouns. He/him is used if I'm referring to Harvey or Harv individually, they/them if I'm referring to them together since they do share a body and are both fronting the majority of the time.