#i wrote so much without meaning to

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[strryhaze]

persuasion, jane austen / simone de beauvoir / dirge without music, edna st. vincent millay .

[unma]

Trash Disposal

You should have been more cautious. More scared.

Everyone spoke of the sweepers as an inevitability. Only the strongest—or the luckiest—could face the waves and survive. Those who didn't were returned to nothingness; they were nought but the whispers on the street for the next night, before yet another wave would arrive and take with it even the idea of you.

And here you were, as the rumbling made itself painfully apparent. They said it was too late by the time the little pebbles by your feet started to shake. If you could hear them? Well, one would pray you could pray—the sweepers didn't allow even that.

The first thought on your mind was that they certainly lived up to the hype.

It felt less like an army and more like a wave. They were a force of nature, a blur of colors that tore through the streets. A mass of noise arose from them, their unintelligible speech melding into a cacophony of vaguely pleasant sound. One could almost call it music, if not for the fear that would overtake one at such a sight.

Your colleague—the one who held the title of your office's leader and had insisted on pushing through with this mission despite the risks—was the first to be devoured. You weren't even sure what happened; the wave simply overtook him and his screams were gone before you even registered he was screaming.

You snapped out of it barely fast enough to block the incoming sickles with your spear. The shock of the weapons against yours seemed to be enough to get the gears in your head moving, as well as the gears of your remaining colleagues, as the streets immediately erupted into battle.

You were surrounded on all sides. The sweepers, those that weren't interested in the small fries that were your group, parted around the battle, forming an inescapable wave that would surely carry and erase anyone who sought to part the sea as a means of escape. It was fight or die. There was no winning, only surviving.

And you did decently too. You weren't sure if it was luck or pure experience, but the sweepers were proving to be equally matched to you. You took a nick here, a gash there, but you'd managed to put three down yourself before you heard it.

Another scream, followed by the squelch of flesh under a blade, over and over again. Before you knew it, whoever it had been was mush.

A quick glance around and you know who it was that perished. Another dear colleague, a name soon to be forgotten. Yet you couldn't even utter it before yet another sweeper demanded your urgent attention.

That single death seemed to break the floodgates, however, as one by one the others followed. They'd barely been holding out, you'd noticed from your previous glances, but now one by one they were dropped, turned into fuel for the endless wave. You didn't dare look, focusing on keeping yourself. Putting the sweepers down one after the other was the only way out.

You didn't need to look. A head came rolling your way as you put a spear through a sweeper's chest.

The sounds of blade clashing had since died down. You were the last of them, it seemed. It was only you left.

You couldn't let it get to you. Faltering for even the slightest moment would get you killed.

But you could feel the pressure building up as they all focused on you. A hit here and there was no longer all, you were being assailed by the full might of just a few sweepers, and you couldn't keep up at all.

Surely you could hold out. Surely if you just pushed through, if you just killed one more, it would be over.

Your spear ripped through a sweeper's heart as you swung with renewed vengeance. You would make it out of this, even if it cost you an arm and a leg. Even if you were battered and bruised, and barely alive. Even if it cost you every—

You were on the floor before you could even process what was happening. A sweeper, the one with your spear through its chest.

It raised its sickle.

The last thing you felt was the ripping of its blades through flesh as it tore through you over and over and over. It felt like an eternity of pain, utter hopelessness enveloping you as you watched yourself get torn to shreds.

Then it was over, all too fast, as if all it had taken was a few seconds, a few swings, to extinguish the little flame that was your life.

Mere minutes later and there was nothing left of you, not even the memory of a fool who didn't listen to his own cautions. Yet another nameless fixer, another existence lost to the wave.

[babybells123]

(ASOS, Sansa II)

(ASOS, Jon XII)

[thelien-art]

Nahar; Steed of Orome

White in the sun, and shining silver at night 1 - the sleeping earth trembled at the beat of his golden hooves 2 - the fire that was stricken from the��hooves of Nahar was the first light that returned to Valinor 3

 J.R.R. Tolkien; The Silmarillion, "Valaquenta: Of the Valar"

J.R.R. Tolkien; The Silmarillion, "of the Beginning of Days” 

J.J.R. Tolkien; The Silmarillion, "Quenta Silmarillion: Of the Darkening of Valinor"

[satoruxx]

HE WROTE HER NAME ON THE WISH WALL I CANNOT DO THIS CALEB THE MAN THAT YOU ARE </////3

[the-tenth-arcanum]

I haaate it that it's getting so hard to tell when art is ai generated. I've seen a painting three times on my dash now and my first thought was "this is nice" and my second thought was "is this ai" because it had a slightly odd vibe. and I googled the "artist's" name and ended up on the original instagram post and sure enough the op wrote "this is ai generated! :)" when someone asked about the artist. what's the point then. what's the fucking point.

[corviiids]

gushing etc

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[xiaomao-ai-wo]

It's anti-establishment to reject generative ai

[whatudottu]

Hello Ben 10 fans, it's been a hot second hasn't it, it's time for another round of Whatudottu Rambles and it's been a long time coming! Not just because of the gaps between posts but because this original idea comes straight from 2023 notes yay!

Today, we'll be talking about vulpimancers, but specifically their history and the politics of Vulpin! Because! For some reason! Whenever I think about vulpimancers, Vulpin, and vulpinic tortugans I think about their relation to the rest of the universe at large and frankly I want to elaborate what has been years of note taking!

God it's gonna be LONG!

So! One of the caveats when dealing with societal structure and the politics therein with significantly more animalistic appearing species, especially vulpimancers who do not have the actual physical structure to speak Earth languages, is that trying to base them off of a real human culture is a SIGNIFICANT FAUX PAS let alone taking inspiration from more traditional and indigenous cultures from around the world. It's part of the reason my obviously-armadillo ant bio talpaedans have their cultural influence taken from historial Europe more specifically during the time of their royal blood swapping since that's the basis of the tradie marriages.

What this means for vulpimancers is that I won't be taking from any modern world culture and hopefully harkening their lives and otherwise timeline to be kind of the present day equivalent of early human communities. Vulpimancers don't exactly have hard borders on territory beyond their stable hunting grounds and are nomadic, sticking together in communities, working within packs, then bundling for rest with families. This will persist until the 'modern era' which consists of a lot more than just the last 25 so years 'today' means, and that territory ends up becoming a whole country, a few communities per country with their relevant amount of working packs and individual families within.

Communities are 'run' by family elders and pack leaders, being a combination of 'the eldest takes care of the youth' parent style but also of those in charge of resource gathering being the... I suppose statistical analysts of the community who take stock of the resources they have, the mouths they need to feed, the seasons of their country, and how well one resource is actually growing (in the case of plants) or breeding (in the case of animals). It's not completely flawless sure, but it's certainly a system that works in a deadly pitch black environment filled with predators galore. Each country has a basic sense of politics even without a so called 'government head' or unified governing body, and historically their international politics extend to the access foreign vulpimancers have to the lands and resources of their country. Often smelling like a region none of the communities have traveled through (and countrymancers would have had interactions with the other communities and familiarised themselves with their scents), the allowance of foreign travel are limited in small numbers to only a few members of a family and only one or two members of a worker pack just outside (never within) the border; a whole community is expected to remain well away from the border unless the border happens to be at the centre of a river or by a dense cave system.

This system would have gone uninterrupted were it not for the fact that early tortugan settlers, an old species already at space fairing technology well beyond many of the civilisations we know were what they are today, landed on Vulpin during their mission to colonise their star system. One argues that the tortugan got to their level of technology from having a lack of predators and thus more proposed 'free time' to dedicate to advanced sciences, another says that they were simply haughty and underprepared for an environment that they had no ability to even understand beyond the atmosphere let alone the conditions on the ground. What inarguably happened though was in some way the settlers were stranded, their ships corroding and decaying from the harsh chemicals of the air, fighting for their damn lives in the pitch black of Vulpin. Forced to adapt or die, the settlers faced the wild threats of Vulpin fighting tooth and nail to live, running into what would and will continue to be the apex predator vulpimancers reacting in fear to their initial 'foreigners in our territory' related hostilities. It was a reluctant few vulpimancers who saw the fear of the settlers and tried to, realising they both shared the same sapience (or at least an intelligence that was not well adapted to the daily stress of Vulpin), allowing their kindness to inform the tortugans of their own intelligence in turn.

However over time, evolving not only themselves but the environment around them in small yet incredibly noticeable ways, the nations of vulpimancers (particularly near the original region/s of the settler landing zones) were quick to notice and many quick to anger in reaction to the distortion of THEIR land - their COUNTRY - some even quick to forgo what kindness they had extended to the quivering death fodder. Hodgepodging together shelter from their ship scraps, warped metal and corroded rust making for an ironic newly created collection of beaten up shanty towns, the torugans (on their way to becoming the vulpinic tortugans of the modern era) were either left to fend for themselves as communities of vulpimancers dropped their support or had to rebuild again and again as some ran them out, furious at the junk obstructing their riverways, digging up their plants, and diverting the natural and long studied hunting grounds of their prey. The very rare few communities - or rather, specific individuals - leave the attempts at expansion to run it's course and to meet it's maker at the hands of the weather and wilds seeking to erase the settlers' old technology, truly predating on anything the tortugans have build up whether it be the walls of their home or the flesh beneath their skin.

Unlike the nomadic vulpimancers, the tortugans are sedentary in their housing and are densely packed into small Minitowns so to say, their population never particularly comparable to the large number of vulpimancers. Minitowns are only ever really found in countries that have notable 'places of evil' that the communities of the region avoid like the literal plague, especially areas that not a lot of wildlife disturb, which technically makes for shit city planning since it means prey species and plants aren't nearby in the area, but the tortugans would take anything to get predators off their backs even if it means they need to have their own versions of worker packs. Some Minitowns have actually consulted with a few communities about where best to place a sedentary 'camp' so to speak, which varies given the relationship a specific group or nation of vulpimancers have towards the settlers whether they'd rather hide them away near a cave system that could provide good shelter and cave-dwelling prey, or in specific colder locations where the tortugan-vulpimancer relationship is actually neutral to positive, they might suggest a Minitown to be built adjacent to a winter site to help during what might usually be a deadly chill.

Tortugans however can still be 'on the run' however if they've wondered into regions where vulpimancers hate them, but unfortunately the early settlers who have not yet adapted to the conditions of the planet are run off to die instead. This and the former paragraph would be referred to in modern times as the New Settler policy, more of a general reaction the general vulpimancer had to the tortugans rather than an official decree, but a generalised trend that can all be connected under a retroactive title.

With a somewhat stable environment, the remaining survivors and the descendants of the settlers would have adapted and become the vulpinic tortugans, now able to sustain themselves and not be as entirely reliant on their historical Minitowns; they still aren't an apex predator by any means, nor too far removed from being a prey species, but their poison spines and defense curl allows them not to be completely food. Due to the inherent limitations of even the recommended locations of Minitowns, a fair many tortugans become nomadic out of necessity, the growing number of mouth unable to be filled with the lack of resources. Tortugan and vulpimancer relations are still heavily varied between regions, but with the new nomadic tortugan groups - tending towards groups of friends or small families - there may yet be more opportunity for the two species to bond in the best case scenario. In a neutral but positive case, some countries that had been very hostile to the tortugans may view the up-and-coming nomads to not be as much of a threat to their land and allow them transit, though nothing more and in the most untrusting of cases they'll be escorted to the next border with haste or even only allowing passage if the path to an adjacent nation is otherwise hard to cross over.

Throughout their entire time trying to survive Vulpin, the tortugans previously didn't have enough time to consider anything as formal as politics. With their physical adaptations, now they can enter the world of more unspoken politics that the vulpimancers were already scent deep into, splitting into the primary two demographics of settler and nomad tortugans. Settler tortugans typically stay within the country, even if some may have nomadic tendencies to travel between known Minitowns of the region, often having a specialised class of the worker pack to rely on food and materials; they still cling onto every scrap that their ancestor came with, though they have long forgotten a lot of what they specifically meant to them. Nomadic tortugans can but often don't travel exclusively within their country - a contrast to their neighbouring communities - needing to avoid countries that actively hate them and only occasionally daring to step within countries that tolerate them at BEST but would rather not have to interact with them; they often sympathise with the original vulpimancer communities affected by their coloniser ancestors, those who ultimately failed in their goal regardless, travelling around the world that they know would have had attempts made to terraform it into something unrecognisable should the colonists have had 'better' circumstances to do so.

It was sometime in the modern era that Vulpin began to become an intergalactic dumping ground fueled by the tortugan colonies, or rather the United Tortugan Market - a trade colony built up of several planets within the same system, except for Vulpin - who are filling up with excess waste, recalled that one of their ancestral colony ships failed to produce any results on Vuplin and thus considered it the trash they they dumped onto it. Ignorant not only because the settlers failed to report back about a sapient species, they also wholeheartedly believe that the passengers sent to the planet on that initial voyage died before they could populate, they emptied out their waste bins and tossed them down onto the planet at ranges that would not allow corrosion to interfere with their ships flight. And now, where both the vulpimancer communities - disgruntled about repeated history - and the newly adapted vulpinic tortugans - newly afraid to taste their own ancestors' medicine - have to deal with their lands and homes being ruined and overrun by scraps and busted machines, the UTM begins selling a service to local customers for their new planet sized dump, dubbing it Vulpin: the Market Junkyard.

With the intergalactic trash piling up, destroying the ecosystem, damaging ancient lands and displacing many communities and even whole fucking countries of vulpimancers, new political ideologies start to form. There are the 'fuck aliens' crowds who - despite reluctance - allow for vulpimancer refugees of neighbouring countries, beginning to revert to (or worsing their already bad relationship to the tortugans) xenophobia towards both settler tortugans and nomadic tortugans, some countries turning to the ones cohabiting with them to 'go back to where [they] came from' and leave their planet alone. Others have put their foot down and - essentially - form the political ideology of 'learn to fucking cope' where communities specifically refuse to share their unmarred land to even their fellow countrymancers, splitting off into the 'okay LET'S fucking cope' ideology where the otherwise displaced community in reaction would essentially sever that community's nomadic path from the rest of the country by actively posturing against any movement into what is now deemed their own new country.

The last two ideologies, loosely titled 'maybe we need help' and 'there's too much shit to ignore', mirror the initial settler/nomad tortugan political split that spawned initially from vulpimancer influence. The first ideology works in stark contrast to the 'fuck aliens' ideology where displaced communities find refugee within tortugan settlements, between small families making homes in Minitowns or whole communities and even countries depending helping tortugans with Junkyard Cities - cities that are still only technically about the equivalent for maybe suburbs at most, Vulpin countries aren't particularly large but they are numerous - making use of the intergalactic trash to build homes and (unfortunately) having a steady supply able to repair and maintain them; it is however more common to have Minitowns with a partial nomadic life, even if it's only for the purpose of resources which still stem from their initial hurdles in town construction. The 'too much shit to ignore' ideology mirrors the international tortugan nomads where an entire country's worth of land is filled with rubbish that not even the native wildlife can make use of it's resources buried beneath the scrap, making the region an undeniable dead zone that may bring many species into extinction, if not simply endanger them; international travel would probably only be for family sized groups, probably only families given that, and only if they have experienced enough worker pack members.

Vulpinic tortugans, in contrast to the disgusted and resentful opinions that the vulpimancers hold for the trash piles, generally speaking simultaneously view the growing junkyards as horrendous yet rife with opportunity as the lands they were forced to call home fill with materials they can use to build their homes and potentially enter the stars their ancestors had dreams of one day returning to. Nomadic tortugans are revolted as though this may not have been the terraforming they feared their ancestors could have fallen into doing, they are still affecting the planet as if they were dominating the land with technology and greed, and settler tortugans specifically in areas not yet prone to junkfall do not much benefit from the opportunity they'd provide in order for their opinion to differ from the nomads, unless their worker packs reach further into the the junkyards for 'treasures'. As mentioned in the afforementioned 'we need help' vulpimancer ideology, settler tortugans in junkfall regions would gather around junkyards and build cities from the scraps, using the fact that the wildlife would steer clear of the cluttered regions as a deterrent to the risks of expansion to make larger settlements than they could have otherwise on an untainted Vulpin, especially with the wealth of materials able to maintain the structures of the city. But even the Junkyard Cities require an ample source of food and other resources not found in the trash, so overrun countries and the deep centre of the junkyards forming around the planet cannot support a city of needy people, displaced or otherwise, and thus even the settler tortugans of Junkyard Nations must leave to find greener-but-not-literally pastures; depending on the population of the displaced settler town, they may resettle at the edge of the junkyard to create a city, move even further away to recreate a Minitown just for them, or even become nomads and set a course away from their ruined homes.

With all these broadstroke political ideologies, there is the fundamental truth that within these junkyards houses 'useless garbage' from societies with much higher tech levels sitting in scraps of themselves, the levels ranging from interplanetary to even intergalactic levels of technology that may be broken to the point of being garbage, but their structure still exists and the stray opportunist to take the time to reverse engineer the scraps can do so with lots of trial and error. The tortugans have to learn by this exact trial and error having long forgotten the sciences their ancestors used to strand themselves on Vulpin, and ever watchful the vulpimancers (especially those displaced, especially those cohabiting with the tortugans) keep an open ear (gill?) to the goings on in the junkyards, enough so that a handful of individuals take the same route as their junkyard neighbours to trial and error their own tech.

Leaving a planet and it's inhabitants to rot under the piles of trash and metal you litter it with leaves for bitter peoples who scrap themselves their own frankensteinian machines of your and all your customers' technologies, influencing a rising tide of Vulpin spacefarers that offer no fealty or kindness to the United Tortugan Market your own peoples find respect in. Junker Pirates, you call them, rising from the pitch black of the corrosive atmosphere you first lost a colony fleet to, and how interesting. The settlers DID survive. And they've made pets- or so the tortugans and the rest of the intergalactic community believe.

Pirates are treated like pirates, of course; arrested like the criminals they are. Unfortunately this is one of the first instances of not recognising vulpimancers for the sapient beings that they are, where the vulpinic tortugans - revealed to be the closest cousin species hereditarily to the arburian pelarota, and thus obviously capable of sapience even if 'more feral' 'more savage' 'more undeveloped' - are sentenced to whatever punishment suits the declaration that they are indeed guilty of piracy, the vulpimancer crew on the other hand are treated like trained dogs and sent into the null void where a large population begins to form and a new brand of hostility begins to brew. Given that the vulpimancers with tortugan crew have to actually tolerate the tortugan enough to be isolated on a ship with them, the null void pirates do not generally resent the vulpinic tortugans of the crew, rather they may despise specifically the tortugan cousins or even the UTM, if they do not generalise and grow to hate everyone not from Vulpin. If the tortugan pirate are sent back to their planet - deported so to speak to Vulpin - and carry back the news that the vulpimancer members of their crew were sent to the null void without due processing, new hostilities spark on homeground. Communities that grow to despise the pirates for giving Vulpin and it's newly discovered people an even worse reputation that it already has, those that once again circle back into hating the tortugans - now their reasoning being that they 'keep getting away' from karma and still hurting their vulpimancer kin - and then there are those that grow to hate the intergalactive governments for stealing their family away and locking them between the folds of the dimensions. The pirates are still going to pirate, regardless of if they are breaking their terms by leaving the planet again, and those who have lost crew to the null void seek to find (and steal if necessary) null void technology and in a worst-case scenario memorise the construction of the projectors so they may smuggle back those illegitimately 'processed' back on Vulpin.

Other pirates that are either set free or are bound to fulfill the conditions of community service (which if word ever got back to Vulpin, the returning pirates being the key here, those that resent the intergalactic governments would resent the community service in turn) more often than not find themselves in the long term not returning to Vulpin. The pirate whom were set free may return full force into piracy once again, though this time without their vulpimancer crew - at least those that do not follow through with finding null void tech - and may begin to accrue members of other species into their Junker Ship, if they were open to such ideas. Those that were given community service may learn more about the intergalactic governments and try to find a way to fix their perceptions of vulpinic tortugans, vulpimancers, and Vulpin in it's entirety by eventually settling somewhere where they can begin getting into the far more structured and far more... loophole ridden poiltics of written law and relations. Those in the political field will begin to realise that Vulpin is legally speaking a part of the United Tortugan Market, that it's official name in the colony is Vulpin: the Market Junkyard, and that very distinctly is NOT UNDER THE 'OWNERSHIP' VULPIN'S OWN PEOPLES. The ex-pirates that happen to return home, learning a little of the politics if they are not politicians themselves, spread the news back home inciting others (including the very fucking understandably furious vulpimancers) to potentially engage in interplanetary and intergalactic politics of their own, especially vulpimancers who are tired of others - which includes the vulpinic tortugans who have been the most vocal not necessarily by choice, mind - speaking over them.

The introduction of interplanetary and intergalactic communications, even if it is limited to visitations as the environment in Vulpin (especially with Junkfalls now present as an element worry about) makes setting up a communications array for the height required to transmit and receive signals rather difficult on a good day, let alone a day shared with very... opinionated communities, has allowed for the ability to access foreign language and common symbols that can help with interspecies relations. Or hinder them, if you teach a very well used universal 'fuck you' sign to a very understandably pissed vulpimancer forced to be treated like an animal deaf to all the words being spoken around them. The access to language also helps form the first technologies allowing for Vulpin languages to be added to translators. However, with a lot of the languages in the intergalactic community having their own writing system (with Vulpin languages not needing a writing system for the longest time), the previously unwritten Vulpin languages are given one by the vulpinic tortugans who use a carved variety of and Old Tortugan writing system and transliterate many of the sounds, especially vulpimancer languages as unlike Vulpin tortugan languages, the sounds did not already have close equivalents. Writing it planetside is often done with sheets of metal rather than wasting plant material, but intergalactically with sighted individuals it is written on the average data screen.

With it's basis in Old Tortugan, modern tortugan languages with the same root language such as Arburian languages, not only can tortugans begin to read Vulpin languages, but anyone who has knowledge on tortugan languages can engage with Vulpin languages more thoroughly than they were able to previously. Which considering they considered the vulpinic tortugans as the 'most' sapient of the Vulpin species despite them both speaking in what essentially amounts to growls and yamper, is quite significant of a development, even as it is functionally once again removing the voice of vulpimancers in favour of the tortugan voice. Sometimes vulpimancer politicians are willing to let that slide in favour of being understood, walking around with tortugan liasons who have the mouth structure in other to reciprocate more common intergalactic languages. Other vulpimancer politicians refuse to rely on their fellow Vulpin national to speak for them and instead insist on using some newly created translators fitted with their relevant Vulpinic language pack, speaking for themselves with a voice technically not theirs but one that they can assuredly say voices their own personal experiences.

On Vulpin, there is a growing community of junkers, a variety of members not exactly connected like the communities of vulpimancers and their own ideologies made up of tortugans and vulpimancers (often called weirdos mostly because of their more nontraditional tortugan-like behaviour and interests), who spend most of their time in the junkyards scrapping together all the tech tossed homeward bound into their lands to develop distinctly Vulpinic technology. Unlike the pirates - which if questioned, they'll say they 'heeded the warnings' from the pirates and elect not to fall into the same trap - Junkers often remain on ground zero and don't actively seek out revenge, not like they are suddenly so much kinder than the Junker Pirates, but rather they use their pretty fucking justified anger to fuel their projects and scavenger hunts; it's also not like they're push overs with hearts of gold either, especially since some a working on building pretty powerful machines that could be considered weapons, they WILL defend themselves and they have quite a bit of faith in their abilities. And remaining on the planet is quite the majority of the vulpimancer communities, and not just the xenophobic ones, as they have unlike the politically motivated interplanetary travelers they choose to remain in their home territories (or as close as they can if they are one of the displaced communities). They are the communities and countries that try to maintain the general political interactions between each other that had been present for a long time within their evolutionary history, which does mean they do not explicitly care about the interplanetary affairs beyond hoping that the Vulpin politicians can get them to stop using the planet as a dumping ground. They - unless otherwise stated in their individual political ideologies - do not care to pay much attention to the weirdo vulpimancers and the alien tortugan who are a very clear example of how no other alien is likely to decide to live on Vulpin willingly ever.

One of the first interplanetary organisations that Vulpin and it's peoples were introduced to were the Plumbers, and given that their first interaction was with the Junker Pirates and their very severe sentences, Vulpin and Vulpin officials stationed even in government bodies are rather typically ACAB (or I suppose APAB, All Plumbers are Bastards), and many of the politicians are moving to get legally defined rights not just for the recently reintroduced vulpinic tortugans but also the very hard to fight for, very tooth and nail political clambering, establishment of rights for vulpimancers as well. Regardless of how well the pirates are breaking out the members of their crew from the null void, getting the official rights to trial and thus the ability to call the illegitimate processing of vulpimancer pirates as a violation of a vulpimancer's sapient rights and thus hopeful (doubtfully) garner some consequences for the hasty arrest of the early pirates. Politicians were also attempting to get the rights for Vulpin into the legal 'ownership' of the people of Vulpin, specifically recognising the vulpimancers as the original custodians of the land and respecting the national land of the vulpinic totugans that have evolved to live on Vulpin, but in order to do so they would need to actively find the current root owner of Vulpin within the United Tortugan Market. As much as the pirates and all those resentful of the intergalactic governments and the UTM would have liked to tear at the throats of the trade colony, the Vulpin representatives are in a tentative situation trying to prove not only the species' sapience, securing the rights in which that is allotted with, but also that the peoples are of... sound sociability in order to gain any semblance of recognition of being even a national people.

It is with the arrival of the tick on Arburia that presented an... ample opportunity to try and... convince the United Tortugan Market of that 'sound sociability' and potentially... a bargaining chip to their own planet's ownership. As much as the potential of damning an entire planet to suffer in ways similar to how they have suffered was very appealing, it would have been significantly detrimental to the work the politicians and the future of Vulpin against the tide of Junkfalls if they left the innocents of Arburia to die or to in fact use them as hostages to outweigh the biases to give them their legal ownership. Instead, at the begging of Vulpin representatives - with the help of the onboard communications of Junker Ships and the pirates that drove them - the members and species of Vulpin gambled on kindness and sought to rescue and save the arburian pelarota and their families like the early vulpimancers once did with the early tortugan settlers, ships lined full of fleeing families even as the government heads of the UTM began to panic upon seeing the pirate ships, especially when infamous crews and ships began to be sighted. Arburian pelarota's, being exposed in their time of need to the act of kindness from both vulpinic tortugans (which they believed to be more violent cousins) AND vulpimancers (where they had been wrongly informed where simple trained animals) had allowed them to understand their mutual sapience, regardless of the roughened and angry exterior of the peoples of Vulpin in addition to their nature as pirates. Fully willing to deliver the inhabitants of Arburia (which, they were not the only ship fleet, but they were the ones willing to keep searching even as the planet was in it's death marches) onto solid ground within the UTM colonies, they seek to enter the atmosphere of any of the requested planets. Hesitantly, not willing to let pirates into their planets, it was at the behest of their Aburian inhabitants that they allow the Junker Ships entry. It is with the evacuation of Arburia that Vulpin gained it's first ally.

It does not mean they suddenly have all the goals they have set out to do, but it means there is someone who is not themselves who have a ball in their court.

[kuroimugen]

I'm coming out of the woodwork because I can't handle it. My chest has been tight with anger since I read that Ruibo was supposed to be more prominent in season 3. I am shaking as I write this. I've had to hold it in until I got off work and could write properly.

I volunteer in fandom. I work the Alternate and Historical Fiction track at DragonCon. (Yeah, if you've been and you like our diversity and our women-focused content of the last five or so years? That's ME. Me and my director. WE have been CURATING THAT CONTENT for yall) Our Flag Means Death falls under my track and I watched it with complete glee and would gladly make sure you all had content to talk about this year.

But to tell us (here's talking to you Casey Bloys) that we should amp up The Gilded Age when your DEI content is right there and you just cancelled it? You cannot tell me that you and Max deserve to have fan retention when you don't even understand what Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion is and why it matters. You don't throw a show at the wall and then take it down and give yourself a pat on the back going "yup we did it good for us guys, don't need another gay show for a few years take a break." You fight, every single day, for your content to feature anyone OTHER than white men.

Every single year I comb through our DragonCon content and decide "What can we do better? Where did we falter? Where do we need to improve?" (you can discuss those with me later, this is about OFMD) You DO NOT give yourself a show with this much diversity and then claim something like The Gilded Age can even compare. You cannot use that as your substitute. It does not work like that. I do this as volunteer work and not as my job and I am furious that he is treating it like a fucking joke. Like Ruibo and Nathan didn't deserve to be showcased in their own season now that the third season would feature them more and we would take a step back from the middle aged men (allegedly).

[milevenstancyendgame]

Revelatio Noctis

For Rayllum Month 2024, prompt: "I still love you" - reconciliation

One-shot fanfic, from Rayla's perspective (angsty, fluffy, rated T, I guess). Enjoy! :)

The rustling of her sheets and Rayla's own breathing were the only sounds that cut through the silence of midnight, as she turned around in her bed for what felt like the fifth time in a minute.

It wasn't exactly helping her to escape her restless mind. Ever since they had returned to Katolis from their mission, she had found herself being haunted by what general Amaya had told her in the great bookery.

She was surprised and slightly annoyed at this. Now that they had Aaravos' prison in their care (not exactly a peace-inducing state of things, in her opinion), shouldn't her first priority be to figure out how to free the trapped souls of her parents and Runaan?

The heat of shame crept up her face. Why wasn't she in the library right now or consulting a Xadian mage about this? Instead here she was, the great moonshadow elf warrior - tossing and turning because of a boy!

A snarl escaped her lips as she sat up. Things between her and Callum had definitely gotten better, so why was she so preoccupied with their relationship? Wasn't it obvious that they needed more time?

"That's only what you want to believe..." a little voice in her head responded.

Rayla frowned. Was this true?

Ever since general Amaya had opened her eyes about how selfish she had been in leaving Callum behind, she had realised that protecting him hadn't been the only reason for her solo adventure.

Opening up to Callum and her love for him scared her. That was the truth. And it had been easier - way too easy! - to just go back to "being strong on her own", than to stay and face that fear.

Fear of getting hurt, fear of getting abandoned, fear of herself, fear of being loved and cherished for exactly who she was!

Rayla clenched her knees and bit her teeth. It was hard admitting these things to herself, much harder than any physical fight she had ever faced. But then again that was what Runaan had focused on in her upbringing and there had been no "big feelings"-times. She was starting to think it wasn't as silly as she had thought at first. Maybe not silly at all.

Sighing, she got up and put on her cloak. There was only one way to get rid of this ruminating - she had to talk to Callum. "Share your burden", as general Amaya had called it.

Acting on a whim, she decided to climb out of the window and nimbly jump over to his, instead of taking the easy route. She felt like she wanted to turn back time and get another chance at that first meeting after two years. Only this time she wouldn't pretend like everything was okay (she cringed at the memory).

Her heartbeat echoed much louder in her ears than her knocking, but finally she heard footsteps and a slightly anxious "Who's there?"

"Callum, it's me," she replied. "Can we talk?"

"Rayla?" Callum's voice sounded even sleepier after he opened the windows and stared at her in surprise (an incredibly adorable combination, as she noticed).

"I'm sorry for waking you up," she started, before jumping into the room. "I couldn't sleep and felt like talking to you might help, but I understand if you'd rather wait until-"

Here she was interrupted by Callum. "No! I'm fine with talking now. What's the matter? Is it your coins?"

She bit her lip. Dear Callum! Always so eager to help, even when it meant discomfort or trouble for himself. Had she ever truly appreciated him? A strange war between shame and love seemed to rage in her chest.

"No, actually it's not about that." Ugh! Even he thought this should be her priority! "I came here, because..." She took a deep breath. "Because I wanted to apologise for leaving you two years ago."

The silence that followed these words was definitely louder than the one she had been annoyed with before.

"Oh," was all he said.

Rayla had to will herself to stay standing where she was. Her insides were screaming at her to run, to lighten the mood, to change the topic - anything but this!

"Yes," she continued awkwardly, feeling confirmed that he was still angry - and rightfully so! "It was wrong and selfish and stupid. I thought I was doing it to protect you from the dangers that came with my mission, told myself that you deserved rest and peace after everything we had gone through...but the truth is that I was scared of how our relationship might develop without constant threats to keep us on our toes."

Now that she had started, she didn't want to stop. Just get it over with.

"So I ran away. I literally ran away from you and my feelings. I'm so sorry, Callum!" Tears she didn't know had gathered, began to spill from her eyes, unbidden. Heavens, he must think me so weak and pathetic!

"Rayla."

To her surprise, his voice wasn't dripping with disgust, but was ladden with tenderness. She startled slightly when he cupped her cheek.

"Rayla, look at me." It wasn't an order, it was a gentle invitation. She still couldn't believe her ears and next thing she knew, her eyes were telling her nonsensical things too.

Instead of scorn, she saw nothing but love and concern shining in his green eyes (was there a candle burning in the room? Or was it the moon? She neither knew nor cared).

"Rayla, you're not weak." The fact that he had spoken her name three times in a row in this impossibly tender tone now wasn't lost on her. She felt dizzy from the delight of it.

Then the meaning of his words sank in. "But Callum - how can you say that? I hurt you so badly, and all just because I couldn't handle my own emotions! How is that not weak?"

Was she actually begging him to be angry with her? Goodness, she was more messed up than she had thought!

"You made a mistake. That's not the same as being weak. If you were weak, you wouldn't have returned. You wouldn't have figured out all these things about yourself. You wouldn't be brave and caring and just...you wouldn't be you."

Rayla shook her head, trying to make sense of what he was telling her. It was such a completely new perspective, so different from what she had grown up with!

But Callum hadn't finished yet. "If you were weak, you wouldn't be Rayla. And I wouldn't have fallen in love with you."

There was the slightest hesitation at his last words, as though he wasn't sure whether she would reciprocate his feelings.

A bell was ringing in Rayla's ears, it was just too much - here he was, treating her with understanding and praise when she deserved none, but also implying that he wasn't sure whether she still loved him? Had he been thinking that she had left because of that?

She gasped audibly at this last thought.

"Callum, I hope you don't think...or ever thought that I left because of anything you did, or because my feelings for you changed!"

He looked vulnerable now, like a timid little child, who wasn't sure what kind of answer was expected from him.

Her need to protect his feelings was stronger than her shame and fear.

"Callum, I still love you. I always did. It won't ever change."

The atmosphere of the room changed immediately. It was as though the walls themselves were heaving a sigh of relief.

He didn't respond anything, and all she knew how to do to emphasise her words, was to hold his gaze and place a hand over his on her cheek.

Then his gaze dropped to her lips and he leaned in...Rayla watched it with no wish to run or hide, those feelings seemed to be something of a long distant past.

She had always been baffled at how soft his lips were, but not having kissed in two years...she felt like her whole body was melting and all that existed were the sensations and movements of their mouths. Not to forget his scent (Books. Definitely books, with something slightly musky that reminded her of his scarf), his breath on her skin, his hand on her waist (when had that happened?)...

It all ended too soon for Rayla's taste, but she guessed they had to catch their breath.

There was something reassuring in the way they held on to each other. She wished this moment would never end, as she lightly rested her forehead against his.

"Rayla?"

There was no uncertainty or concern in his voice now, just pure love.

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you couldn't sleep tonight."

She laughed and he soon joined in. It had been so long since she had laughed like this, she hardly recognised the sound. It was a special laugh, her Callum-laugh.

"Same here," she mumbled fondly, resting her head on his chest now, with the intention to stay there.

~End~

[theflyingfeeling]

so we went to the Nokia Arena show and it looked so cool and it sounded so cool and I was dancing and singing and screaming and Niko played a medley on the piano and brb I'm gonna paint red BC logos on my piano too and he also rapped in Finnish ("kun mä huudan havuja te huudatte PERKELE") and they dressed in white and played the Backstreet Boys cover and it was so much fun and we went to the offical after party and they came to say hi there too (minus Niko) and Samy was there and I talked to him and Tommi walked right past us when we were about to leave and I said "hi" and he said "yeah pls leave me alone" and a lot of fun was had in the form of laughing and dancing and singing and I love you all can we do this again immediately pls pls pls I don't wanna go back to living my boring life 😭

[dzozef]

im in a good mood cause my work enemy is getting her life ruined while all i had to do was keep quiet and do my best 🥱

[adore-gregor]

i'm back on tumblr (again)