#i'm not certain but that's the first one i can recall really rooting for

[queenofwands89]

Quiet Affections

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Pilot!reader

Summary: After her friends tease her about Jake having a crush on her, Y/N reflects on certain memories that make her question whether there might be some truth to their playful jabs.

Warnings: Teasing, pining, Jake being a sweetheart, Y/N being oblivious, insults aimed at Y/N, protective Jake, mention and description of injury, anxiety, doubts, fluff.

Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! We made it! 🎉 I just hit 2,500 likes on here and wanted to thank each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, or commented on my works. It means the world to me. I’m down bad for Jake, and need him badly so I wrote this. Enjoy byeeee

You find yourself deep in the heart of the Hard Deck, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses forming a comforting backdrop. Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey are clustered around the pool table, laughter spilling freely as they take turns making shots and throwing jabs. Jake had just excused himself to go to the restroom, but not before brushing a lingering hand against your shoulder and whispering something that made you smile. This action set off a chain reaction of teasing directed at you.

"Y/N, you know Hangman’s got a huge crush on you, right?" Rooster's mustache twitches with a sly smile as he lines up for his shot.

You laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh please, Bradley. Jake? No way. He's just... nice."

Rooster and Natasha exchange glances before Natasha cocks an eyebrow at you. "Nice? Hangman is many things, but nice isn't the first word I'd use. Unless he’s talking to you," she remarks, tapping her cue stick against her palm.

Bob, always the quiet observer, chimes in. "He's got a point though, Y/N. I've seen how he looks at you."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm just completely unaware of it," you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "You guys are ridiculous."

Mickey grins, his boyish charm lighting up his face. "Maybe, but can you really deny the way he's always got your back?" he asks, leaning casually against the pool table.

Your first instinct is to rebut, but as their words settle in, you start to think about some of the things Jake had done for you. Not just the grand gestures like saving your hide in aerial combat, but the small, everyday things. The way he'd always save you a seat, bring you coffee exactly how you like it, offer subtle words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

Javy steps forward, his competitive spirit twinkling in his eyes. "You're telling me you haven't noticed how he always goes out of his way to make sure you're okay?"

Reuben, good-natured but always vigilant, nods in agreement. "Hangman's not exactly an altruistic guy, Y/N. But for you? He'd go to lengths he wouldn't for anyone else."

You crack a wry smile, determined to stay firm in your denial. "He's just protective. We're teammates."

Natasha had already joined in, her voice warm yet teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. It’s not just about being teammates. He genuinely cares.”

In the ensuing silence, you can't help but ponder on their words. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is charismatic and assertive, traits forged from his exceptional flying skills and competitive nature. But beneath that cocky exterior, there lies a heart incredibly loving and caring, willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones. Slowly, you find yourself drifting into a vivid memory, reliving the countless cherished moments and experiences you've shared with Jake.

You recall that evening at the Hard Deck vividly. The bar was buzzing with the usual chatter and laughter, the hum of camaraderie filling the air. You were amidst your friends, enjoying the rare downtime when an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise—this stranger making an offhand but cruel remark about you. The comment was subtle, yet it stung deeply, rooting you in place with a mix of shock and mortification. Your cheeks burned under the weight of the ridicule, words lodged in your throat.

Before you could muster a response, you felt Jake's presence beside you, solid and reassuring. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the offender. His usual easy going demeanor was replaced by a steely resolve, his eyes dark with anger. "Do us all a favor and think before you speak," he said, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable edge.

The bar fell into an uneasy silence as Jake’s glare pinned the offender in place. "If you've got a problem with Y/N," he continued, his voice low and unwavering, "you’ll be dealing with me."

The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The offender, unable to match Jake's intensity, muttered an apology and slunk away, deflated. The moment passed, but the impact lingered. Jake remained there a moment longer, ensuring the threat had fully dissipated before turning back to you.

As he met your gaze, the hardness in his features softened, replaced by a gentle concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a tenderness reserved just for you.

You felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude, the initial embarrassment giving way to a profound sense of relief. Jake had stood up for you without a second thought, his protective instinct leaving no room for compromise. In that moment, you knew you were safe, not just physically but emotionally, knowing Jake had your back. His touch and the concern in his eyes reassured you even more, providing a solace that words alone could not.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Then there was the night when you couldn’t sleep, tormented by insecurities that gnawed at the edges of your mind. It was long past midnight, and you found yourself seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, trying to get some fresh air to clear your head before the mission. The vast expanse of the ocean and the cool night breeze did little to quiet the whirlwind of self-doubt swirling inside you.

The stars dotted the sky like tiny beacons, and the waves below gently lapped against the ship's hull, but none of it brought you peace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tense and lost in thought, barely noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.

Jake emerged from the shadows, his silhouette becoming clearer in the soft glow of the ship's lights. He paused when he saw you, his brow furrowing with concern. He looked around, ensuring no one else was around, before walking over to you with determined but careful strides.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the solitude with an edge of worry.

You hesitated, feeling foolish for bothering him. "I…I just can't stop thinking about everything that's been going wrong. I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Jake."

Jake's eyes softened, and he lowered himself to sit beside you on the cold metal deck. "Tell me more," he said gently, coaxing you to open up. His voice was so steady, so soothing, that you found yourself pouring out all your fears and anxieties—the relentless pressure, the fear of failure, the nagging feeling that you weren't good enough. With each word, you felt a weight lifting from your chest.

Jake listened without interrupting, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by an unwavering focus on you. His eyes never left your face, and his expression remained kind and attentive. "You know what I see when I look at you?" he said quietly once you had finished. "I see someone who's brave, who fights every day to be better, who cares deeply about others. You're stronger than you think, Y/N. Don't let those doubts control you."

His words felt like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. When he reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes melted away your remaining doubts, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of reassurance. Sitting there on the deck, under the endless sky, you felt profoundly grateful for Jake's unwavering support and the strength he helped you find within yourself.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

You also remember the time when you injured your ankle during a training exercise. You had insisted on limping back to your quarters, trying to maintain your independence. But Jake wouldn't hear of it. He had scooped you up without a second thought, cradling you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic gentleness. The entire trek back, he kept you engaged in light-hearted banter, ensuring your mind stayed off the pain.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

And how could you forget the morning he had brought you coffee? Not just any coffee, but a complex, personalized concoction—an oat milk latte with a shot of caramel, a pinch of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg, and no foam. You hadn’t even mentioned it to him before. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he had said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But you knew the effort he had put into remembering such a detailed order, and it made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

These memories play in your mind like a cherished montage, each moment a testament to the man beneath the bravado. Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn’t just the cocky pilot everyone else saw. He was a protector, a confidant, a friend who cared deeply for you, even if you had been too blind to see it before.

Returning back to the present moment amidst the lively ambiance of the Hard Deck, surrounded by the warmth of friends and laughter, you notice Jake returning from the restroom. As your eyes meet, his familiar smirk emerges, but this time there’s a tender softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before—or perhaps, hadn't allowed yourself to see.

“Miss me?” he jokes, sliding back into the chaos of pool cues and friendly banter.

You chuckle, shaking off the speculative thoughts. “Like a bad habit, Seresin.”

But later, as the night winds down and the camaraderie ebbs into a quieter hum, you catch yourself glancing his way more often. The teasing remarks of your friends aren’t so easily dismissed anymore. And as Jake catches your gaze across the room, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might be onto something.

Because sometimes, the most significant realizations are the ones that had been right in front of you all along, masked by the comfort of friendship and the chaos of duty.

You smile to yourself, feeling an inexplicable warmth. Maybe it was time to see what was beyond the camaraderie, to delve into the possibilities of what if. The thought lingers, like an unopened letter, waiting for the right moment.

For now, you return to the laughter and games, but with a new awareness, a curiosity that couldn’t be easily shaken. One thing was for sure—things were going to get interesting.

-

Text divider credits: @bunnysrph

[mrinafria]

[contains spoilers]

I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.

The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.

Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.

All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.

And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.

And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.

This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.

[foone]

As the person I follow who does reverse engineering, do you have any suggestions for finding resources on reverse engineering Android apps?

Specifically, there's an app I'm playing with, where after seeing the structure of the "export as Markdown" output I want to know what the internal structure and representation of the data is. The end goal of understanding it is to be able to add certain kinds of data dynamically, rather than up front. That's certainly doable typing in raw markdown, but being able to do it "app style" would be more convenient.

The google Play Store entry does not mention any open source licenses, or looking for the source code and hopefully a git repo or something would have been my first step.

(I'll probably need to bang together a crappy app to do what I really want regardless, but maybe this app's data structure would be more convenient than doing so with markdown.)

So, android stuff:

First you need the APK. You can do some trickery with your phone to pull it over the ADB connection if you install the android SDK, but generally I just google "app name APK" and you'll find some greymarket site that'll give you a copy.

Secondly, APKs are just ZIP files (JAR files, technically, but JAR files are also just ZIP files!). Unzip them and you can find lots of interesting stuff, often.

For disassembling/decompiling them, my go-to program is jadx. It's a java decompiler that's been around a while and can natively open APK files and decompile them. There's some weirder new APKs that it can't handle (something to do with a newer bytecode revision, I think?) but I can't recall the details on how you handle those. Those are rare, in my experience. jadx is pretty good, but you'll occasionally find methods or entire classes that it just can't figure out, and it'll give you a bytecode dump. I don't yet have a good solution for those, other than "get good at reading JVM bytecode".

If you're dealing with games, another useful thing can be UABE and dotPeek. These are unity/C# tools, but you would be surprised how many android games (and non-games!) are actually unity under the hood.

Bluestacks can also be useful, because it'll let you run the app on your desktop and that can be handy for things like running WireShark to log all network traffic.

Speaking of logging, the other handy thing I've done is enabling android developer mode on my phone to get to one specific option: Bluetooth HCI snoop log.

Now, actually getting that log is tricky and varies from phone to phone, because for some reason manufacturers like to move it around, but it's one of the best ways to reverse engineer bluetooth communication stuff. You basically turn on the log and everything your phone does to communicate with your Smart Toothbrush or whatever will be logged to a file, then you can yank that file over and stuff it into Wireshark.

So... hopefully some of that is a helpful start? I've not done a huge amount of Android reversing so I'm not super familiar with the tools used, but these are the ones I've got on hand for when I do.

also sorry for all the horny robotgirl posters who saw "android reverse engineering" in the tags and thought this was gonna be about taking them apart with screwdrivers and rooting around in their insides. Not today!

[itsnotzka]

Fancy reading my original story? ;)

Without revealing too much, it's a very character-driven, slow-burn(ish), bitter-sweet romance story centered around self-discovery, with music and movies playing a significant role in the background :)

If you want to give it a go, you can read The Higher We Soar here (I'm currently sharing it on Wattpad, as I, unfortunately, haven't found a better alternative...). The first three chapters are already published (and it always will be free :))

You can also read the prologue below ⬇︎

You should never expect too much from Tuesdays. They're like the middle children of the week—less demanding than Mondays, less depressing than Wednesdays, but definitely not as fun as Fridays. Tuesdays quietly go about their business, neither imposing nor exhilarating.

As usual, I didn't have high hopes for that particular Tuesday either. It was one of those days that seemed to slip from memory almost as soon as it happened, no matter how much I wracked my brain to recall it.

The weather? If someone had told me there was the worst snowstorm of the century on that day, I would have readily accepted their claim without a single question. If I had read somewhere that it was the hottest day of the year, I would have simply nodded in agreement. I couldn't even tell you whether I decided to take a bus, a tram, or maybe I just, quite merrily, took a walk to the studio.

All those details somehow simply left my mind, overshadowed by one seemingly insignificant, and quite short encounter. Nothing remained the same after that fateful, yet somehow very ordinary, casual Tuesday morning.

Like a clueless fool, I failed to sense the impending, monumental shift in my life—a weird, terrifying, passionate avalanche that, in retrospect, seemed glaringly obvious and impossible to miss from the beginning, no matter how hard you might try... Yet, I did.

Before I delve further, you should know that I've never really liked interns.

It's not a sentiment I'm particularly proud of, as I despise prejudice in any form. My dislike isn't rooted in any of my antisocial tendencies; in fact, I generally find it quite easy to connect with people, especially in the music industry. 

But I never really liked interns.

Their enthusiasm often comes across as superficial, and I can't stand it when they ask what to do, only to neglect the tasks I give them. I don't don't like when they think they have it all, believing they are more knowledgeable than anyone else around the studio, despite never having composed a single piece of music in their lives. I don't like how, before I can even properly learn their names or discover their strengths, they vanish without a trace, leaving behind a mess of equipment they weren't supposed to touch in the first place.

I also don't like when interns assume I'm just one of them.

It's a frustrating realization, mainly because, begrudgingly, they have the right to do that. After all, most of them are just a tad younger than me. Who could blame them?

That seemed to be the case with most interns. Except for one notable exception.

It didn't take long for me to notice that one individual stood out from the rest of the pack. Slightly older than the typical interns we usually had, he possessed a remarkable ability to effortlessly connect with people of all ages and ranks—spanning from the youngest staff members to seasoned audio engineers and even the senior employees of our cleaning crew. He had this certain level of cheerfulness and genuine interest that set him apart, a stark contrast to the usual ennui seen among interns I knew.

Right. First things first, though.

The scene: Early spring. A typical Tuesday morning just a little past ten o'clock.

I found myself in the live room, brimming with anticipation to finally record the first version of my demo, or at least my initial idea for one. But as luck would have it, nothing seemed to align with my plans. True to form, the interns had left a chaotic mess in their wake, leaving me with the arduous task of tidying up before I could even begin to think about diving into my creative process.

I let out a sigh of frustration, futilely rummaging through the clutter in search of a balanced cable before all my inspiration gone to waste. And that's precisely when the blonde intern came into the room, flashing his straight, pearly white teeth at me.

"Oh, hey. Hand me that boom stand, eh?" I gestured towards the stand, hoping to deal the cleanup process faster.

Weirdly enough, he sauntered over to me joyfully, yet his hands were conspicuously empty. It took a few moments for the realization to dawn on me, and when I turned my head to him, there he was, meeting my gaze with a cheerful twinkle in his light brown eyes, smiling at me with the sincerity of a five-year-old child.

"Hello? The boom stand, please?" I reiterated, juggling a handful of cables, none of them the balanced one I desperately needed, and gesturing towards the frustratingly out-of-reach metal stand.

"Oh, you're talking about this thing!" he exclaimed, as if my words had just registered. With a sudden burst of energy, he hastily retrieved the boom stand and brought it over to me. "Here you go."

I shot him a skeptical look as he nonchalantly slipped his hands into the pockets of his well-worn cardigan—a piece of clothing that might have been deemed unwearable by most, yet it somehow suited him perfectly. In an oddly charming way, it emitted a subtle bohemian vibe, and I couldn't help but imagine it gracing the runway of some avant-garde fashion show, although my knowledge of fashion was rather limited.

"Do you want to tell me you didn't know what a boom stand is?" I dared to ask, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yeah, sorry..." he prudishly feigned embarrassment, though it was evident that he didn't feel particularly bad about it. "I had no clue what you were talking about."

I eyed him inquisitively, suspecting the worst but needing confirmation. "What about a shock mount? Can you pass me that, then?"

He tilted his head and subtly pursed his lips, as if I had switched to an entirely different, foreign language he couldn't comprehend. Utterly astonished, I pointed to the nearby, star-shaped object, and his eyes widened in realization.

"Oh... that's a shock mount? Well, I had no idea about that, either," he admitted, seemingly unfazed by his lack of knowledge, with no intention of handing me the item. In response, I spread my hands and cast him a puzzled, inquisitive look, to which he simply responded with another chuckle.

"Let me be honest with you, okay?" he shrugged once more, entirely at ease. "I know nothing about making music or any of this equipment..."

"Are you shitting me?" I blurted out, dropping the cables from my hands in sheer disbelief. "In that case, I have no idea why you're even here. How on earth did you manage to land this internship in a scoring studio?"

The smirk never left his lips, his eyes twinkling with joy, as if he wasn't even aware that I considered firing him during his very first week on the job. Well, I couldn't actually fire him. I could ask someone else to do it for me.

"What can I say?" he offered another smile, his eyes mirroring the same cheerfulness. Even his bohemian gray cardigan seemed uncharacteristically cheerful as he spoke. "I aced the job interview. Sophie, that gal who interviewed me, seemed to really like me. She was very sure I'd be a great fit here!"

"That gal?" I repeated with a scoff... and a smile. "You mean Sophie, the producer? One of the most important people around here? If not the most important one?"

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The very same."

"Right. Sophie and her desire to change the whole world for the better..." I remarked, my tone laced with sarcasm that he simply chose to ignore.

There. My proof. 

That was the reason why I never really liked interns. He should have said something to make me believe he was taking it seriously, shouldn't he? He should have been embarrassed, he should have shown me his willingness to learn everything as quickly as possible, he should have tried to help me set everything up faster. But he didn't. Instead, he didn't take his eyes off me for a second, making me uncomfortable. It was as if looking at me like that was the most normal and ordinary thing in the world for him — as if it was our hundredth talk. No shyness. No awkwardness on his part. No guilt whatsoever.

"I don't know if I have time for your incompetence, then. I have things to do here, and they have to be done well," I finally stated, trying hard to maintain eye contact.

After all, I was supposed to be the more competent one, not him. Yet, inexplicably, I suddenly felt as though I were the intern, and he was the one showing me the ropes, not the other way around.

He hummed, faintly amused, as if I had cracked a half-hearted joke. "Come on... you only need to be more specific about what you want me to do. I can handle anything with clear instructions. I'm a very quick learner, you know?"

I found myself smiling as he began to lecture me on how to handle an intern like him. In fact, I burst into unexpected laughter—not at his expense, but because I couldn't believe his extraordinary gullibility.

No, gullibility was definitely not the right word. It was more like... certainty. An unwavering, absolute conviction that everything, always, would unfold just as he anticipated, with ease, enjoyment, and no difficulties whatsoever. There was no room for doubt. Moreover, it felt as if it wasn't because he wanted it to be that way, but because the universe, it seemed, had an uncanny knack for bending space and time just to make him smile.

"Let's see. Do you even know what I do here?" I asked, not with impatience anymore, but with genuine curiosity.

"Hey, I'm not that dense," he scoffed, then added a bit unsure, "You're a composer, right? Or am I mixing something up..."

I laughed and nodded in confirmation. His smile held a touch of embarrassment, a genuine one this time.

"You're not. I am a composer. So tell me one more thing, if you don't know anything about making music, why do you even want to work here?" I asked, finally bringing the shock mount closer and starting to set the microphone next to the piano.

He sighed, falling into deep thought for a brief moment before finally responding, "I think you're asking the wrong questions here. Why wouldn't I want to give it a try? It's fascinating. Besides, I'm a huge movie buff and you're making scores. I feel like I can rest my case here."

"Oh, yeah? Your love for movies? You think that's enough?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded, casually picking up the cables I dropped before, "Well, that would be more than enough if we were in an actual movie, wouldn't it?"

"Well, we're not, though," I chuckled, "We're not even in some poorly written novel. Life's quite different from the movies, especially if you know how they're made."

He hummed once more, a quiet laugh escaping his throat as he gave me another intrigued look.

"You think so? I think it all depends on your point of view..." he said with such conviction, as if everything really depended solely on that.

I shook my head in amusement and, unintentionally, found myself agreeing with him.

"Hey, I think I didn't catch your name before..." I said, a little troubled by the fact that despite Sophie repeating the names of all five interns for a week, I couldn't remember any of them.

"Oh, I'm Maddox. At your service!" he replied, his smile widening even further. "People usually call me Maddie, though."

"Really? Do they ever call you Madd?" I quipped. "Maybe that suits you better?"

A spark flickered in his eyes, then chuckled, "I've heard that one before... But sure. I can be Madd for you."

By then, I was laughing opelny, and I forgot about the mess around us.

It surprised me that he didn't ask for my name, and I decided not to give it away. I wasn't sure if he already knew it; he hadn't mentioned it even once that day. It seemed my name just... didn't matter to him back then. He struck me as someone very curious about the world and everything around him, yet for some reason, I didn't really seem to be one of those matters.

Like many things, it didn't bother me much, though.

After that Tuesday morning, marked by a string of mishaps that he effortlessly remedied with a perfect blend of enthusiasm, interest, and clever comments, a tad too clever for just an intern, we didn't teally talk for a few weeks.

Throughout the initial month of his three-month internship, our encounters were fleeting, lacking any real depth or substanc. Yet, I knew, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's presence that hung in the air, like a perfectly fitting soundtrack playing in the background—barely noticeable, yet undeniably there.

I was busy with my projects that weren't going as well as I wanted them to. He, on the other hand, was busy surpassing almost all expectations, learning things at an astonishing pace, and effortlessly charming everyone he encountered. At least that's what I had heard from my co-workers, and from Sophie. He worked mainly under her, after all.

Every now and then though, I'd catch a glimpse of his eyes, squarely directed at me, particularly when I was on my way to the break room in search of my caffeine salvation. Sometimes, amidst the chaos of the studio, I'd hear his laughter, his rather melodic voice rising above the cacophony of others, as I struggled to maintain my focus on the stubborn music sheets in front of me. I quickly noticed he was quite the conversationalist, engaging in lively discussions with anyone willing to participate. Yet, our interactions rarely extended beyond a simple exchange of greetings, such as a casual 'hello' or 'how are you?'

That didn't bother me, either. Well, it didn't bother me at the beginning.

Everything always seems different at the beginning, doesn't it?

[queerpontmercy]

ok cognitive restructuring this and positive self-talk that but i feel like an underappreciated little shame-free strategy for my mental health and problem-solving has been replacing "why" questions with "what" questions, when trying to un-spiral myself.

"why did i do that?" vs "what was happening before that went down?"

"why does x always trigger me so much?" vs "what might help me feel better now that i've been dealing with x?" (and giving it your best guess, even if you aren't 100% certain.)

don't get me wrong, i think curiosity is one of thee components of a healthy self. but you also kinda gotta think about what's gonna be helpful and not make the spiral deeper. and here's my reasoning, rooted in personal experience.

if you ask yourself, "why am I like this/why did i do that/why couldn't i do it?" and you don't know the answer? you are often setting yourself up for a lot of shame, guilt, and self-blame. i don't advocate for asking "why did you do that" to kids especially, because they might be too young to figure out the cause and effect on their own. unfortunately, a lot of us - especially a lot of neurodivergent folks- have had that experience of being interrogated and feeling powerless. when you're trying to help yourself feel better, you don't want to recall that shit.

and on the FLIP side...

if you ask yourself "why am i like this" and you KNOW the answer and you haven't really processed it, you've likely set yourself up to recall a set of times you were miserable, when you're already probably feeling not great. "i'm anxious around strangers because i have a history of being viciously bullied and emotionally abused, i also have an anxious attachment style, i also probably have something wrong with my hormones--" well unless i'm very good at emotional regulation and moving on from my thoughts, there's a good chance i'm now thinking about all that and how much it sucks. and there are times and places to unpack those boxes! i personally think therapy's great for that, because having someone safe there can help with the spiraling bit.

but home alone on a rough day? i've taught myself to ask a what question first, even if why is more tempting. if i really, really want to, i'll look into the void later, but in the moment it's likely not gonna help me much, especially if i'm still new to getting through hard times in a safe and sustainable way.

[felixcloud6288]

Okay. I really want to talk about that second math problem Homura did. It's the only one where I was able to understand what the actual problem she's trying to solve was (Her mathwork in q1 and q3 were correct for what I saw, but I couldn't figure out what she was ultimately trying to do.)

The problem: We're given three integers x, a, and b where a/14 has a remainder of 6, b/14 has a remainder of 1, and x^2 - 2ax + b = 0. Find the remainder of x/14.

Step 1: We define x, a, and b in relation to 14. We'll use q, s, and t to represent the quotients of x, a, and b respectively and r to represent the unknown remainder of x/14.

x = 14q + r a = 14s + 6 b = 14t + 1

Step 2: We rewrite x^2 - 2ax + b = 0 using the above equalities.

(14q + r)^2 - 2(14s + 6)(14q+r) + (14t + 1) = 0

Step 3: rewrite each term using FOIL (Normally I'd say simplify but there's nothing simple about what this is going to look like. Also, I'm going to keep 14 as unedited as possible for reasons you'll see later).

(14q)^2 + 2*14qr + r^2 - 2*14^2qs - 2*14rs - 12*14q - 12r +14t + 1 = 0

Step 4: Our end goal is to figure out what happened when x is divided by 14. So we're going to collect all terms divisible by 14 together and factor out 14.

14(14q^2 + 2qr - 28qs - 2rs - 12q + t) + r^2 - 12r + 1 = 0

Step 5: This was something Homura did but didn't explicitly show. Consider this: -14r = -12r - 2r. So we could add 2r - 2r into the left side of the equation without impacting it. This let's us throw -14r into the pile of terms being multiplied by 14 and leave us with a 2r we can use FOIL on with the remaining terms

14(14q^2 + 2qr - 28qs - 2rs - 12q + t) + r^2 - 12r + 1 + 2r - 2r= 0 14(14q^2 + 2qr - 28qs - 2rs - 12q + t) + r^2 - 14r + 1 + 2r = 0 14(14q^2 + 2qr - 28qs - 2rs - 12q + t - r) + (r+1)^2 = 0

Step 6: This is the part where Homura went from equations to logic. To simplify things, let's let y = 14q^2 + 2qr - 28qs - 2rs - 12q + t - r. This means:

14y + (r+1)^2 = 0 (r+1)^2 = -14y

Now I have to go over a little bit of number theory. Prime factorization is the process of breaking a positive integer down into a series of prime numbers. With the above equation, we can say (r+1)^2 is divisible by 14 since it is equal to 14 times some unknown integer -y. This also means (r+1)^2 can be divided by 2 and 7 since 2*7=14.

Now consider: Let's say we have two integers m and n. There is a unique set of prime numbers that can be multiplied to get m and a unique set that can be multiplied to get n. If we multiply m by n, the prime factors of mn is going to be the prime factors of m and n. For example, 12 = 2*2*3 and 15 = 3*5 so 12*15 = 2*2*3*3*5 or 2^2 * 3^2 * 5.

Now let's say we multiplied m by m. In that case, we're combining the same prime factors together. So m^2 would double the exponent values of each prime factor. As a corollary, if m's square root is an integer, then m's prime factors must all be exponentiated by an even number.

Now let's tie this back to the problem.

Currently, we know (r+1)^2 = -14y for some unknown integer y. Our end goal is to figure out r, the remainder when x is divided by 14. First, we need to try getting rid of the square on the left side. Going back to what I mentioned earlier though, since r+1 is an integer, that means it has a certain prime factorization. We can say that prime factorization includes at least a 2 and 7 because of the 14 on the right. And since r+1 is being squared, that means (r+1)^2 has the same prime factors as r+1 but the exponential values are double. In other words, y has to also be divisible by 14 in order for this equation to be true.

Now also recall that r is the remainder of x/14. This would mean r at most is 13. So r+1 is at most 14. If we take all this information into account, this means (r+1)^2 can at most be 14^2 and in fact would have to be 14^2 because it is the only number that would work with all the previous information (Meaning that y = -14). Therefore:

(r+1)^2 = 14^2 r+1 = 14 r = 13

back

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 5 Meakashi pt. 20

Since a lot of the plot from here is stuff that occurred in chapter two: Watanagashi I had thought about assembling the screenshots in a way to have both sides of the scenes play out. In an attempt to provide the full picture and timeline of events. I might still do that, but as it stands you'll have to deal with just the Meakashi screens.

Having dealt with Rika, Shion decides to go inform the mayor and Mion of the good news. I imagine she's just lugging around Rika's corpse while the following happens.

Despite claiming herself as Mion, I will still refer to Shion as Shion and Mion as Mion. If only to keep it consistent with the screenshots.

I'm not so bothered by the twist but by a minor issue the whole "using the tattoo to identify the correct twin" idea brings up. I don't recall, at any point in the actual narrative the idea that the successor has a demon tattooed on them. As far as I remember this idea really only gets mentioned in the TIPS in chapter two, and even then the narrator (I presume Takano) isn't a hundred percent certain that's the case. I realize this is a small point to get caught up on, but Shion is putting a lot of emphasis on the tattoo being the root cause for her life's misery. When really it doesn't account for a lot, even without the tattoo there was always the chance Shion would have gotten the bad luck of the draw and still been chosen to send to St. Lucia's. To me, this reads as just another instance of Shion wanting to blame an outside source for all of her misfortunes. Without a target to pin all the blame on all of her negative emotions will only be able to go back on her.

Also this raises another question, if Shion is really Mion why did Oryou try to kill her instantly once she was out of the womb? Wouldn't it have been Mion who is really Shion who almost died? Or is this just a thing that Shion internalized after years and years of living as Shion? That someone in the family offhandedly mentions the near strangulation and so she just automatically assigned it to herself and not Mion? Or can everything after she began her quest for revenge just be written off as her paranoid mind snatching at straws to justify her actions? And so shouldn't be taken at face value? I get the feeling that all of the narrators across the entire series should be viewed as unreliable narrators at best, but once Watanagashi 1982 happened should everything Shion says in her narration be taken with a certain amount of skepticism? Because she hasn't been entirely honest throughout this chapter.

I wonder how long after Satoko showed up did Shion take her down to the torture room? Right after she got in the gate? Just bonk her on the noggin and down she went? Or do you think she toyed with the child she hates first? Shortly after this conversation she calls Keiichi to discuss the curse. She then makes up some stuff related to the curse and then offers up the following:

I would like to remind you that Satoko in chapter three: Tatarigoroshi mentions that this is how the curse works as well. Which I think is an interesting little detail, one that offers certain speculations a bit of extra weight. The real question I have about this wrinkle being added to the events of Tatarigoroshi is this: does Shion bear Satoko the same intense hatred she has in this chapter?

Then the pair of Rena and Keiichi show up to the Furude shrine with Shion to investigate their disappearance. Finding nothing they split up with Rena investigating the main house and Shion and Keiichi going to the building Satoko and Rika actually live in. Satoko and Rika's orphan status is brought up and Keiichi mentions that he's vaguely aware of Satoshi's former existence. Which sets Shion off:

Only this time instead of attacking the person who dares besmirch her beloved Satoshi Shion instead focuses inward on the unfairness of fate and that everything when you really get down to it is the eleven year olds fault. They investigate the house and find nothing, when more villagers to show up to help the search efforts some begin asking who noticed Rika went missing first. Shion then loudly mentions how Keiichi had "strange suspicions" about her and so they came to investigate. Ooishi shows up to lend police assistance in the search.

It sure is a lucky thing she's able and willing to just completely change the details of her revenge at a moment's notice. But then again, I've never been a criminal mastermind, I can't imagine the types of fluid thinking required to kidnap and murder at least five people.

[immemorymag]

Katerina Barvirova

My name is Katerina I grow up and studied the theory of interactive media  in Czech republic.

 some might say that I'm a passionate photographer, but there's much more to it.My interest in photography has its roots in my mother's influence. She was likely one of the first in our neighborhood to own a video camera, filming small movies with us that I eagerly watched back. And also that chunky photo album that I just could spend hours flipping throw. I fondly recall using our digital point-and-shoot camera during holidays, capturing my surroundings, brother, mum, classmates .. and sharing those moments with my and family friends. As a child, I cherished these experiences, especially during school trips, as having a camera with me provided a sense of purpose and belonging within the group. I haven't really thought about the importance of all of this in my photography journey during recently.

The biggest challenge is actually giving myself time to think about my photographs and the photographs I want to take, the stories I want to tell. I try to write down most of the ideas, narratives and impulses and come back to them, do a bit more research and finally shoot, see what is missing etc.

Returning to the topic of my mom, she continues to impact the way I frame shots and instinctively search for compelling geometry and expressions. In a good way, I often acknowledge her as my most significant critic. And I am experimenting a lot - street photography is brilliant thing to do and try on new things, angles, flashes etc …

I've learned that constantly being immersed in photography, whether for commercial work or personal projects, can be more draining than engaging in different types of jobs. Actively seeking out projects that truly resonate with my creative interests has made a significant difference. By stepping out of my photography bubble, I've found inspiration in exploring diverse experiences, meeting new people, and frequently stumbling upon compelling stories worth capturing. So, to maintain my creative flow, I prioritize diversity, listening to people's stories, and staying attuned to the world around me. Romanticizing it all.

There are a few shots that I believe will stay with me forever. They hold a certain intimacy and connection that strongly resonates in those moments, and it always comes rushing back when I revisit the photos. The first impactful one was a man offering to hold hands in the midst of a protesting crowd. Then, there's the shot of the Wall of Shame in Lima, followed by a touching moment a couple of days later in the ghetto, where a child played with a plastic spoon in a stream of fecals. The most recent one that caught me by surprise is a landscape from North Rona, a deserted island in the middle of the North Sea, which I happened to visit thanks to the Classina boat and its crew. It was mesmerizing to be in such a remote place, armed only with my camera for a couple of hours. On one hand, I felt a release from the usual pressures associated with landscapes and nature photography, as it's not a genre I'm very familiar with. On the other hand, I found myself somewhat intimidated by the nature, silence and the island. Usually, people and their play a significant role in my photography, and in that quiet landscape, I initially doubted my ability to capture it. After a while, though, that feeling eased, and started experimenting.

[xerophylloom]

The Times They Are a Changin' by Bandtrees and Hatsunoid is absolutely amazing

...And if you can handle the contents of it. No seriously. The fic is definitely dark and if you're sensitive to MEDICAL ABUSE, GORE, AND ABLEISM—Don't read it. It's especially centered around those and unless you close your eyes for all of it, you're not going to be able to handle it.

BUT!! It's so good, I would love to erase my memory just to experience reading it for the first time all over again. The disturbing parts aren't OOC (in my opinion at least) and it's very well-written, some optional out-of-site parts too.

A Laconic Summary: Mob loses control over his powers and causes permanent brain damage to Reigen and Ritsu. This fic explores the possible effects of that

Things of Note (as tags): Ambiguous Ending, Parasites (Specifically maggots and they're not TOO important, but they're there during a somewhat important moment)

Extremely long rambling (with spoilers) below the cut

This fic is so good, I created a sideblog for my AO3 to post about it. This fic is so good, that I had to stop what I was doing even though it is probably going to be detrimental to my grades. This fic is so good, that I was nearly about to rip my hair out from its roots

It's about 100k chapters long, separated into two parts. I'm easily bored and there's been plenty of times I've read a fic with maybe half the length, gotten bored, and thought of some parts as a slogfest even when it really wasn't—I just suck at getting through longfics. But reading through this, there was never a point where I thought that. Tensions were always high, rising even when I thought it wouldn't be able to, and I would end up near-screaming

And the way it shows how different characters feel? Gorgeous. Amazing. Love it.

Obviously, we have the normal book style descriptions from one character's POV, but then we have Teru's diary and Shou's little monologues(?), and it's all really cool??!?! Maybe that's what helped keep my attention. That and the little off-site links.

Speaking of those, I think I found all of them, but I'm not that observant so I could have easily missed some. And wow. Jesus christ. The last couple ones, the ones of Shou's gallery as his phone was getting wrecked, I was. just. In shock. I'm a very sentimental person who cares about photos and things, and I don't know how Shou didn't begin loudly crying right then and there because I would have

And god, so many times did I think 'Is this fic going to have untagged MCD?'. I was constantly at the edge of my seat expecting that someone would die. Reigen, Ritsu, Mob, Shou, Teru, Dimple (especially when he confronted Mob right as he was about to lobotomize Ritsu)... Basically all the main characters in the fic had moments where I was preparing to mourn

Mob really left for the deep end in this fic. I won't say that I fully get why he was so convinced that what he was doing was right, but it makes sense for him. He's not the type to let go easily, he's someone who draws strength from his bonds, and his aspect could be blood. And almost all his life, the message to never give up was basically struck into his head over and over. The one time I can recall where it wasn't? Claw, Seventh Division, where Reigen told him it's okay to run away. But I doubt that tilted the scale into being balanced in the slightest. There's so much more I could say about him in this fic. But I'll save it for now

Teru was... Teru. I understand him more than I did Mob, I think if I were in his situation, I would have maybe stopped at a certain point but we would be very similar in most of the actions we take. In the first chapter, I went 'haha silly!' at his entries. Seeing them as a little treat between the downers surrounding it. But then after he helped 'operate' (It doesn't feel right calling it that), I guess it really hit me. Then I started questioning if I would have done what he did. Then I realised I would have. Then I spiralled until I told myself this kind of situation will likely never happen to me and if it does, I'll get to it when I get to it

Serizawa is easily one of the ones you can feel for the most. Unlike Mob and Teru, he hadn't done anything to Reigen and Ritsu personally. And unlike Shou and Dimple, he didn't say harsh words. Perhaps you could blame him for not taking action sooner, but they all can be blamed for that.

Shou... Oh my god. Shou. At first, I was ready to fight Shou tooth and nail because really? That one comment on FriendBook wasn't necessary. I don't know how or why Mob didn't block him. But then as Mob spiralled further and further, I was hoping for him to make his way back into the narrative to save Reigen and Ritsu. Then he did. And he failed and he was injured and I thought he was going to die. Then he didn't. And it's implied he could have helped them. But could he have also made it worse? Who knows, that's why I put Ambiguous Ending as a thing of note.

DON'T FORGET THE OUT-OF-LINK STUFF!!! Mixed media fics that have off-site links are truly beautiful. My friend and I love that shit. Should she ever get into MP100, I'll recommend this fic to him with a shit-eating grin on my face. I hope the word count doesn't intimidate him erogdfkg... Every single bit of the off-site links I saw was just so cool. The art of Reigen made me feel strong unease, the real videos too, and that one animated video with Ritsu and Mob and Teru. Okay basically everything gave me a strong unease. But that's the point!!! And it was done well!!!!

This fic is pure talent, skill, and effort put into something that shouldn't just be preserved via a PDF file, but should be carved into stone for future archaeologists to discover. I wish I could hold even a fraction of power needed to create something this masterful

On a more less-serious note to finish this off: Mobway. Red Mobster. I was about to lose my shit. Every single time one of the companies showed up I was about to tear my hair out (in a funny way) because it felt like falling for a prank. I ESPECIALLY LOST MY SHIT AT PSYCHOLOGIST PEPPER BECAUSE IT TOOK ME SCROLLING DOWN BEFORE REALISING. Truly, the minds behind this were geniuses

Also, this might sound weird, but I got reminded of KomaedaLoveMail while reading this. The off-site links to websites for sure helped, but I guess I just associate talk of gore in written form in this way with KLM? Or maybe I haven't quite recovered from consuming that piece of media (Can you even call KLM that?) yet. This isn't bad by the way, I loved deepdiving into KLM even though my feeble brain couldn't comprehend shit.

And and one last note- Opening the song link in the end notes was like emotional whiplash. I had to sit there for a bit to process. Good music

This is a whole mess. Even for a ramble, it's a whole mess. I don't have words or sentences or even phrases for how I feel right now. I'm a mess

[cornflowershade]

a bit of a mess but here's a thought dump after more finale consideration.

boston was never part of the friend group from the start. not really. none of his friends ever seemed to like him from the beginning, and that's how it ended too. i feel like his ending (and the post-cred with mix's entrance) is all about hypocricy and the fact that this OFTS friend group always sucked. none of them really improved, as a friendship group... we have Boston, the only one who seemed to actually want to make amends to the group [not just their partner] and offering to better themselves in that regard getting tossed. why him? well, two reasons. maybe three. because his action was the inciting incident of the series (the og mess)—AND bc hey: no one else actually wants to improve themselves on a deep enough level that they would give him another chance because they like how they're living (just won't be upfront about that fact like boston typically was). [I'll note that Ray seemed genuinely down to be chill with Boston again (love how he's grown), but only if Mew is on board too bc he's not about to have a side friendship with Boston.] in a way, the fact that Boston seems up for actual amends makes him an outcast from the rest of them: a group of people who never seem to truly set anything right at the root. (not to say boston does that either, but he seemed willing to try.) And now they will have another mess, all over again, because enter Mix—their new Boston, or Boeing, or whoever. Their new Reason to Make Mistakes and potentially new Person to Blame it On. (Also earlier in the show we have a couple occasions where a song plays about the 'bad guy' being doomed by the narrative or whatever. yeah. they were telling us something with that. though if I recall that song usually played over scenes with Top, which.....? but still.)

Anyhow, was this depicted in the cleanest way? No, the show's intensions are still rather ambiguous, but I think the above was perhaps... the point? Or at least a point we can take away nevertheless. That said: Is this an emotionally satisfying ending, especially on Boston's side? No, absolutely not. specifically bc of the way it was executed, i'd say. (And unfortunately this ends up making Nick's ending unsatisfying as well, even though he literally walked away like we expected and like he should have!) Their point, I think, could've been a little clearer [rather than leaving most of us feeling the point was to punish boston's non-monogomy. bc YEAH that is how it comes off at first. and it's unfortunate. but I'm not certain that was.... the intention of the writers??] but above all what they should've done is made sure that the ending worked emotionally as well, which is where I think it ultimately failed.

[bluemoonfantasiesiii]

SumeruBedo Voice Lines

(Some of these are the same as his canon voice lines)

Hello

I am Dhaval, assistant to the Forest Watcher. You carry the aura of the stars, interesting... I would like to study you, if you do not mind. I'm certain we will have many opportunities to be alone in the future.

Chat: Still Life

What a view... How about a quick break so I can sketch this beautiful scenery?

Chat: Investigation

“The truth of this world"... *sigh* What could it be?

Chat: Reminiscing

Going out into the world and investigating, turning the "unknown" into the "known." ...Ahhh, I missed this feeling.

When It Rains

Thankfully I had the foresight to waterproof both the paper and the ink I use to take notes.

When Thunder Strikes

We should seek shelter. If I recall, there’s an adequate cave system nearby.

When It Snows

Master…

When the Sun is Out

Ample light... active biological organisms... Yes, this is a good place to sketch.

When it’s Windy

Let my quickly bind my notes so they don’t blow away.

In the Desert

I’ve crafted some pendants using the stamens of mist flowers to keep us cool during the day, and flaming flowers to keep us warm at night.

Good Morning

Good morning. Are we going to search for unusual flora today?

Good Afternoon

Good afternoon. I was just about to survey the surrounding area for any abnormalities that may need to be investigated. Care to join me?

Good Evening

The sunset bathes everything in a soft, pink glow. It makes a perfect backdrop for a painting.

Good Night

The crickets and frogs have begun their nightly serenade, and the fireflies are like tiny lanterns dancing over the water. The forest truly comes alive at night.

About Dhaval: Genius

Genius? ...A number of people call me that. But I don't think I'm any "genius."

About Dhaval: Socializing

Relationships are... quite troublesome. Once you establish a relation with someone, you must continue to maintain it; if you lose contact, you must reestablish the relation. This taxing cycle requires a lot of time...

About Us: Experiments

You... want to accompany me while I experiment? I'm honored.

My experiments are sometimes dangerous, but I will do my utmost to ensure your safety. I’ve already prepared for every possible contingency.

About Us: Perennial

Although I try to be prepared for everything, there’s no secret formula for bonding with someone. You are someone I can now proudly call a friend. It is now up to us to decide whether our friendship is a delicate rose or a perennial peony.

About the Vision

My Vision? Ah, that's nothing more than a tool to aid in my experiments, no different from a beaker or crucible. The one thing about it that really intrigues me is the principle behind how it works... One day, I will uncover its secrets, it's only a matter of time.

Something to Share

There's something I've always wanted to ask you, but feared rejection and disappointment...

Eh-hem... I am very interested in your little floating companion. May I borrow her to investigate for a short while?

Interesting Things

Most of the fauna in the Avidya Forest is edible with proper preparation. Even the large spiders that live near the roots of certain trees. If you tie one up in cape jasmine and lemongrass and sprinkle on some cardamom, smoke it for a few hours — you get a fragrant taste that's simply... unforgettable.

About Family

Family? when I think of the idea of "family," my old master comes to mind first. My earliest memories in life are of going on adventures with her. She taught me the art of alchemy and much knowledge about the world. However, the bonds that I’ve forged in the Avidya Forest with the likes of Collei and Master Tighnari feel much more meaningful to me now.

About Tighnari: Assistant

As Master Tighnari’s right hand, it’s my duty to make sure he stays on track with his patrols and meets deadlines with any paperwork that lands on his desk. I certainly wouldn’t describe him as lazy, but he does tend to get swept up in the lax atmosphere of the forest sometimes. I occasionally catch him napping in a tree.

About Tighnari: Aid

Have you ever heard the phrase “doctors make the worst patients?” Master Tighnari is the perfect example. Because of his medical expertise, convincing him to let somebody else treat him when he’s the one in need of care is like pulling teeth. He puts up a bit less of a fuss when I’m the one offering aid since we know each other so well, but even then it’s still a struggle.

About Collei

I arrived in the Avidya Forest shortly after her. I quickly got a feel for her boundaries, and stopped using words like “experiment” and “test subject” around her for a while. Her aversion to physical touch was never an issue, since I’m not a very touchy person myself, but I’m glad to see she’s more comfortable with certain people now.

I sometimes take over her literacy lessons as well. She’s been making significant progress. I’m proud of her.

About Cyno

He takes his duties as General Mahamtra very seriously, and many people find him intimidating because of that. But when he’s not in work mode, he actually makes for pleasant company. His sense of humor is unique, and I find his jokes entertaining.

About Nilou

I occasionally collaborate with Zubayr Theatre to help them work on set pieces and props. Despite being a performer, Nilou always watches me with an intense fascination, as she wants to be familiar with every aspect of the stage. She’s even asked me to teach her a few things. I find such dedication to her chosen field to be very admirable. She’s a joy to work with.

About Alhaitham

Having the ability to operate without being influenced by emotion doesn’t sound entirely healthy… Even for as deadpan as I can be, I still listen to my heart every now and then. I would love an opportunity to pick his brain and figure out how he does it.

About Kaveh

I admire his work as a fellow artist, but sometimes he can get a bit too caught up in his feelings. I suppose in that regard, he’s more of a stereotypical artist than I am.

About Lesser Lord Kusanali

While I wouldn’t consider myself a man of strong faith, I can truthfully say that I respect Lesser Lord Kusanali. I’ve always found boundless intellect and boundless humility to be a commendable combination.

About Lisa

I heard her name a few times while I was enrolled in the Spantamad Darshan. As much as I would like to talk about wasted potential, I suppose I ended up doing the same thing as her…

About Faruzan

She loves bringing me complex puzzles that she designs in an attempt to stump me. I don’t have the heart to tell her that her puzzles are children’s toys compared to the labyrinths I used to explore with my master…

More About Dhaval I

Have a question for me? Go ahead, ask. It doesn't take too long to ask a single question, does it? I'm about to begin the final stage of an experiment...

More About Dhaval II

Oh, by the way. Did you know that without human manipulation, you would need to harness the power of a sun eight times the size of our own in order to naturally create gold?

More About Dhaval III

What do I do besides sketching and research...? I will often go for casual strolls around the rainforest, just to take in the different species of flora and fauna. They never fail to provide me with unexpected inspirations for my own creations, no matter how many times I see them.

More About Dhaval IV

I was originally sent to the Akademiya to see what they knew of alchemy. It quickly became apparent that the Spantamad Darshan had nothing of value to offer me. My master’s teachings were much more extensive, and I found myself growing bored there.

More About Dhaval V

Even though “Dhaval” started as an alias to better fit in with the people of Sumeru, it feels… more right than the name my master gave me. More like myself. In fact, the rainforest feels more like home than anywhere I stayed with my master. I feel like I truly have a family in Avidya.

Dhaval’s Hobbies

Hmm... Besides research and contingency planning, the activity I spend most of my time on is probably sketching. At first I saw it simply as a way to better study the structure of living things and materials so as to aid me in my experiments, but it eventually became a hobby of mine. Indeed, it is a very good way to relax.

Dhaval’s Troubles

Although I try to have a plan for everything, there are some things one simply can’t be prepared for. I have yet to encounter a setback I couldn’t recover from, but it is still obnoxious…

Favorite Food

I really do enjoy having dessert. How can I put it...? When both physical and mental capacity are spent, high-energy materials further provide a kind of primordial, highly-effective boost.

Least Favorite Food

What food do I dislike? ...Large portions of meat at restaurants. I have a rather small appetite, so a meal like that only ends up in tragedy — either I overeat and the joy of the taste is lost, or I don't finish it and the food is wasted. I decided to simply not go to restaurants, although that has also meant I must spend more time preparing my own food...

Receiving a Gift I

If flavors were colors... this one would be gold.

Receiving a Gift II

You're willing to spend so much time on improving your cooking, and that's precisely how you're able to make it taste so good.

Receiving a Gift III

This is more than I can manage... maybe we could split it between us?

Birthday

Happy birthday. You look especially happy, would you mind if I sketched you? The capacity of our brains is limited, so we are bound to forget things. But when an image is transferred onto paper or canvas, the sketch becomes an extension of our memory. We can remember that past feeling when we later look at the sketch.

Feelings About Ascension: Intro

Nigredo is the first step in alchemy, drawing from primordial forms. As beings who live in this world, we must find our own meaning.

Feelings About Ascension: Building Up

Albedo is the step in which change begins. Clearing away the excess so we can take on all the knowledge that is available. Would you like to investigate this world with me?

Feelings About Ascension: Climax

Rubedo in alchemy refers to the refining of feeling. I feel the refining of my own emotions is also thanks to you.

Feelings About Ascension: Conclusion

Citrinitas is the final stage of the alchemical transmutation process. The meaning of the object being transmuted has finally been brought to light, becoming gold and revealing its true value... I too have found my own meaning.

Elemental Skill

Blossom.

Bloom!

Come into being.

Elemental Burst

Soil, heed my call!

Feel this ancient power.

Are you prepared?

Opening Treasure Chest

Let me quickly take inventory.

Who leaves things like this out in the wilderness…?

Quite the fortunate find.

Low HP

Time for Plan B.

I wasn’t prepared for this.

A new strategy’s required.

Ally at Low HP

I’ll take over from here.

This is too dangerous for you.

Fallen

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…

The soil…is calling me…

Seems my research…is over…

Light Hit Taken

Still within my threshold.

Heavy Hit Taken

A miscalculation.

Joining Party

Ready to go.

Some in-the-field research?

Let’s investigate this further.

[outoftheirdifferences]

15 Questions For The Writer

1. Are you named after anyone? Nope; my parents chose my name specifically for its meaning, rather than anything else.

2. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday. I was watching CinemaTherapy's video about Wreck-it Ralph on Youtube, and they showed the Broken Karted scene and OH MAN that scene ruins me emotionally every time, I was just sobbing over here xD;;;

3. Do you have kids? Nerp. I'd kinda like to adopt someday, though.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Only in contexts when it's clear that I'm joking. I don't like to be misunderstood, so I try to only use it when I can be obvious about it!

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? That's going to be their clothes, probably; not necessarily in great detail, but at least the basics of what kind of shirt or whatever they're wearing. I'm not always great with, e.g., faces - and even less so with maintaining eye contact! - so details of those don't tend to stand out to me right away.

6. What’s your eye colour? I don't even know anymore. Mostly a kind of off-grey, I think? Though there seems to be a tiny splatter of brown in there too; and I'm sure they used to be closer to blue when I was a child. So...?

7. Scary movies or happy endings? I do not do scary movies at all. As a kid I was easily upset and so wouldn't consider even touching them with a ten foot pole, and even now I'm too squeamish for guts and gore xD Happy endings - or at least endings with an aspect of hope to them even if they're not fully happy - are definitely my scene.

8. Any special talents? I am absolutely great at memorising movie scripts. I could recite the entirety of The Lion King, for example, word for word at the drop of a hat, and the same is true of several other movies too if I've watched them at least a handful of times. Toy Story 2 is another good example; and as a kid I had both Buzz Lightyear of Star Command: The Adventure Begins and Bionicle: Mask of Light - two childhood favourites! - committed to memory as well... though I'm a bit rusty on those two these days, I can probably still recite a fair chunk of either of them. There are even more movies, mostly animated ones, where I can do something like 85% of them for memory but just stumble on certain specific details.

And I have absolutely no idea what to do with this ability. I'd love to find some context in which this was actually USEFUL; but that degree of excellent memory doesn't necessarily apply to other things, it's very specific to movie dialogue, so it's kind of... a very limited usability?

9. Where were you born? Ascot, UK.

11. Have you any pets? Nope. I'd love to have a dog, but I can't really afford it at present... and am not sure I'd be up to taking responsibility for one all by myself, either. In the future once my gf and I are in the same place together long-term, maybe!

Otherwise, I haven't had a pet in the family since my parents took on looking after my grandma's elderly budgie, after she could no longer care for him, when I was really young.

12. What sport do you play/have played? NONE xD Sports have never been for me; I'm not particularly athletic anyway and even watching them has doesn't appeal to me, much less participating!

Okay, not strictly true, although the sentiment still stands! But I recall I did take part in rounders club in my last year of primary school (rounders has some similarities to, and derives from the same roots as, baseball, although is kinda a lower-intensity British version without the signature gloves) but that was just for a little bit of fun. In secondary school we had to play some sports in PE classes, but I avoided the action in those as much as possible. And I've very occasionally played casual badminton with my mum or with friends; but again never competitively, only for fun.

13. How tall are you? 1.73 metres, a.k.a. roughly 5'8".

14. Favourite subject in school? DT Graphic Design. You'd think Art, wouldn't you... but I could never really get into that, I preferred to just draw on my own terms than study different styles or whatever. Graphic Design was all about designing our own stuff, though, and that was the part that really drew me in and was a lot of fun.

Also kinda Maths, not that I especially enjoyed it but I was good at it - which made it satisfying, if not exciting!

15. Dream job? ANIMATOR! In the distant future, that is, as far as it being a job goes: for now I'm not ready to try for it as a career but I am focusing on working on animated projects in my own time. I'm pretty much entirely self-taught, so for now I just want to focus on practicing and getting good at it before I pursue it on a serious level... but that's the eventual dream, at least!

tagging: Anyone! tagged by: taken from @storybounded

[cloud-nath]

Let's talk about Aerith.

Is she a favoured character of mine? No. For my taste, she comes across as too pushy, rather juvenile, and incredibly suspicious (in the Remake, at least). One of my best friends loves her, as does her husband. I recall joking to them both when I was at their house last month about how their display case of figures has a disappointing lack of Tifa. They really need to make a Tseng figure, though, I'm just saying.

Anyway. Aerith wouldn't be my favourite. Even as a team member, it took me some time to warm to her. I played her a little in the OG FF7, and was pleased to find she hits people with her staff, as opposed to the (what I call) "shooty puff nonsense" she does in Remake. About three play-throughs later, I finally started to warm up to her, though she was still the last of my team to hit level 50. Some of her spells and her limit breaks are pure excellence, so even though her personality just isn't for me (what kind of absolute nut creates an obstacle course in their hallway to try and keep someone from leaving undetected?), as a playable character, I now have her in my rotation, as she's a lot of fun, and I will use her primarily ahead of Barret in their final fight in the Shinra building. Blessed be the white mage.

Now, let's bear in mind I'm someone who was largely unaffected by fandom hype when I started playing Remake during lockdown. I didn't have major opinions on anyone. I hadn't been as exposed to FF7 as I was to FF8 (and I will admit: I absolutely hated Rinoa. Just hated her). I had to ask Google what LTD was (I ask Google a lot of things these days - I'm an old lady now 🫠).

Aerith seems to be playing the role of an almost bubble-headed fun times girl, who sweetly bats her eyelashes and establishes herself as a seemingly harmless innocent, but even on my first play-through, I could tell something was very off with her. She knew things she shouldn't have (you could tell she knew the plate was definitely going to drop), and yet, for all her talk of wanting to fly in the face of destiny, she didn't seem to want to stop that, even though all of AVALANCHE definitely did. Why was that? Why was it seemingly okay to allow certain events to remain untouched (the dropping of the plate killing countless)? To me, at least, it feels like Aerith has an agenda all her own, and it's not wholly connected to protecting the Planet. A part of me has toyed with the idea that she's trying to change Zack's fate to bring him back to her, as it was clear from the end of Crisis Core that she knew he'd died, and grief can be a powerful motivator. I mean, that would be an interesting take, but it's just a take, and there's nothing evidentiary to support that. I'm assuming Rebirth will give some insight into her motives, and hopefully clarify why Marlene was so stunned by her when they hugged in Seventh Heaven. There's something not quite right about this Florist...

Having played both Remake and Crisis Core at this point (the former multiple times), I'm not incredibly convinced that there's anything romantic between Cloud and Aerith. When you stand her interactions with Cloud against her interactions with Zack, they're night and day. You can feel the chemistry from the get-go with Zack, whose own infectious, bright energy mirrors hers perfectly. They play off of one another, banter, and flirt in a way that has you rooting for them from the off. When it comes to Cloud, however, it's more like forcing a square peg into a round hole. Setting aside the fact Cloud has mental health problems, neither of them seem to show any special attachment to each other outside of a more platonic relationship. He seems to merely tolerate her at first, then comes to see her as a friend, while she seems to be somehow forcing herself into his personal space (figuratively speaking) and caring incredibly little about his well-being at the same time. Example: in the Drum inside the Shinra building, Tifa expresses her concern for Cloud's well-being after his encounter with Sephiroth, and Aerith seems to brush it aside and ask how Tifa herself is doing. The way I see it, Aerith cares a lot more about Tifa than she does about Cloud. I do like the growing friendship between the two ladies, though.

Right, can I briefly talk about the dresses? I didn't like the ostentatious red dress. It just didn't suit her. It was too much. Her makeup was nice, but the dress swallowed her. The middle one (the pink-toned high-low dress) was definitely my favourite. It very much suited her and she looked stunning in it. I'd wear that in a heartbeat.

Okay, to wrap up: the death. I may not have played through all of the OG FF7 yet, but I know Aerith dies. I do know my aforementioned best friend and husband both hope the story in Rebirth changes her fate and keeps her alive, but I gotta be honest: I think she has to die. It has to happen. I mean, it's such a huge part of the OG storyline, happening at a time when they didn't just kill off a protagonist like that, and since it doesn't seem like (from what I've read) they're going to be changing the main plot points of the FF7 story in Remake, I would wager she still dies. And I feel she has to. It's a major part of the story, a turning point in the narrative, part of what made the original such a stand-out in JRPG gaming of the time. I'm sure her fans (and I know there are a lot of them) want her to live, but I just don't think that's going to happen. If it does, I don't know what consequences that would have on everything else in the story.

And no, I don't think they'll kill Tifa instead.

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

I have Carvier's diary pages next to me, but I don't want to read them now. I...can't read them now.

Instead, I want to show the analysis I found by Kurmo Konsa, a professor in Estonia who specialized in history and archeology. He wrote about "Technology creating a new human: the alchemical roots of transhumansit ideas". He is a professor with kind eyes mostly writing in Estonian, yet this one was in English. I'll write down what is important for me, the whole text is here to read.

Transcript of the first, second and third page: On the first page, he assures that alchemly is a science teaching how to transform any kindof metal into another and that by a "proper medicine". This certain "medicine" is called Elixir and when it is cast upon metals or impoerfect bodies it does perfect them in the very projection. This Elixir seems to be a cure-all, and it could be that "imperfect bodies" really means organic material since alchemy also deals with illness and healing.

Konsa references Roger Bacon, a man who dealt with mathematics, philosophy, optocs, alchemy and magic. According to him speculative alchemy was practised by only a few alchemists both with lifeless bodies and living substances and the human body was indeed the main subject. He also claimed a person could prolong their life if they used the "right tools"; whatever that means.

Finally, Bacon also claimed that since accidental processes and external factors can shorten a lifetime, there was also a way to prolong it. He also recommended a theoretical foundation of the Elixir: The elements have to be prepared and purified, so that they would be reduced to pure simplicity, and that would make the "perfect medicine".

Transcript of the fourth page: Here are the most important points I've taken:

Perfect imperfect bodies is a goal

Human beings, dead or alive, were used as subjects

Lifespan can be (probably) extended

Elements have to be purified for the "perfect medicine", an Elixir

Separate humours to purify them

I know I'm tinfoiling but I can't help and write down whatever comes to my mind. So. If Eckhardt is the 500 year old dude from Germany that was supposedly killed by the LV. And Vasiley, who uses the LV symbol in his papers, is also an anceint being. What does this tell us? I'm perhaps tripping, yes. Maybe Vasiley just has an old family tree. Okay, but then the Black Alchemist was killed, again, int he 14th century. But he was an alchemist. And he keeps popping up like the Lux Veritatis and Lara Croft and Vasiley.

Mega-tinfoil: What if both of them really are old, old, ancient, dusty as hell people and exist today? If the castle was owned by the LV, and Vasiley was/is part of them, he MUST know Eckhardt. This shackled Nephilim drawing with the helmet, do you recall? What if it's him and they kept him in the castle?

Transcript of the fifth and sixth page: My so called "theory" which is none since there is no proof but only speculation is as follows:

Eckhardt was killed by the Lux Veritatis in 1445

the LV were hired/owned(?) the castle Bouzor from 1939-1945

Vasiley uses the symbol the LV use as well

One of Werner's mails gives me the impression the Lux Veritatis, Eckhardt and the paintings are connected (how??)

the Obscura paintings were found in a monastery, what is the link to religion? Is there an alchemic one?

since the membership of the LV was hereditary, are there any members today?

the Periapt Shards are said to be the weapons of the LV

So. All this leads to this funny graph. Eckhardt is murdered by the LV. Their weapons are Periapt Shards. Vasiley uses their symbol. They were in castle Bouzor so Vasiley might know. He found the Obscura Engravings. Werner has knowledge of them. The Obscura Paintings also exist. And von Croy has been murdered by...Lara Croft? I seriously see no reason for her to do that. I mean, maybe it was personal. But all the shit that is tied to this, is this on accident?

Okay... I'm officially losing it, if you want to stop reading, go ahead. Also check the death notices in the newspapers please, I might appear there. You need to get my notebook and destroy it, I don't want anyone to think I am insane. This blog, too. The access details are on my desk, second drawer.

You will do that for me, right?

Right?

[midwinterwings]

IW and EW is confusing

so...this isnt even remotely surprising but I'm surprised Pikachu abt it, its surprising to me.

When i initially fronted i assumed I'd act similar to in IW but that literally didn't happen. I dont recall I like writing and drawing in IW but I feel the urge to here...and I'm much cooler headed in EW.

The whiplash makes me go ":0" it's so...weird. especially since I'm still 100 percent me, but I act completely different in EW. Well at the same time the front has some...baggage left of the people who used to be here. Theyre gone. Dunno where they are.

One is something that makes me unable to talk, administered by no one, its just like a cage imposed on my mouth that snaps closed and makes me unable to use my windpipes.

Two is a person left behind made by the old host who's become his own independent being and keeps fronting, shoving me aside and bursting into the body in certain situations. Admittedly, they do a better job than me but it's still violating as I have no choice except to be an observer.

Three...the fact I'm...even thinking so much, is...uncharacteristic. Well, I wasn't exactly devoid of braincells back in IW, but like...I definetly didnt think as much. Especially about plurality. It's unnerving to realize I'm one person and there's others as well who may front in future. Because i feel like one guy if no one else is around, but I know it's not true because I can access memories of the previous fronters and they thought they were the only one too. I can't really talk to the other people. I know I'm technically an alter formed due to trauma of the EW body and past but I only know this from the information base and...thing is, my life is completely different to the EW's and especially since the person who was around during the early years of the External body's life, has gone or died or something. He's just not here so me and the others who aren't fronting are just left with...ourselves, since the fact we exist is coz of that trauma that none of us acrually experienced. Oh, and the memories left behind and stored. So I do have the memories to look into but thats it.

Im not really...conscious of the fact I was formed from EW body's trauma. I get it conceptually but not actually. Coz, you see, I got a whole world I belong in, relationships, a past. I straight up identify 0% of me with the External world body's experience and past...to me the trauma was just kinda the conduit of how I am created but its not important to me at all.

There is some things that jar me. Namely my current fixation on plurality since like...I...wait nvm.

Its coz I'm not a facet I'm a whole person. I dont feel like part of a whole. I'm my own individual. And I'm aware of others coz they appear and because I can access memories in the info base, not very well but enough. And I also get mega pissed off if the same stuff that was the reason the system was a system and not a singlet happens again to me, and I feel kind of...an ancient kind of rage. One I as a singular person didn't create, more of the rage and disappointment left over by one of the people who was in the system long ago. In those moments I see the memories of that person as 'mine', usually I don't do that. I can see memories from former fronters but as a spectator although it's first person.

I guess the rage caused by the same triggers that created the external body's early trauma is deeply rooted in all of us, whoever fronts or is 'conscious' and not doing their own thing in innerworld.

The confusing thing is when that happens I kind of revert to singlet mode and kind of...embody the old alter naturally, the one who pretended to be the only one, basically rping as a singlet and adding all external world events and treating them as 'their experiences' and trying to be 'normal' I, on my own, don't identify with a lot of stuff EW body went through. Purely because it literally didn't happen to me in a Literal sense, and that's coz I was only fully formed a few days ago. So it couldn't happen to me. That being said I do feel what the old alter/s felt so it's kinda like being there but I wasn't actually there, still, I do feel their emotions from that trauma strongly at times and from an outside standpoint you couldn't tell the stuff didnt happen to ME, in a Literal sense.

so what am I getting at here. Its that it's pokemon gasp, kind of a surprise and shock fronting after the old fronter was aware of me existing (they thought I was a character they created)

because stuff is just...totally different from what I'm used to. I act different too and like different things. Then again it's not completely true because the things i do in EW are similar to a lot of stuff I did in IW as a young kid, but its been long since I've been that kid, I barely even remember I was him most of the time due to shit that happened in IW. I guess, doing something I used to do as a young kid and feeling a sense of whiplash and discomfort is actually very simular to if it was in IW and my entire point isn't valid.

-> so in fact jts more...on the surface I act different in EW than IW but acrually I do the same things just in a different context and stuff.

-T

[lostonehero]

More vampires but a different au

Henry remembers a lot. He can recall how he first turned and didn't realize it until it was a sunny day in Britain. He recalls when he first met William after he was placed in his first apartment for school. He recalls when he got the idea for fazebear with William. He cherished the memory when his daughter was born.

He had banished the memory when he found out Charlie wasn't his, but it didn't matter he was still her father. He anguished the memory of her death. He knows he lashed out at William when he confessed he was to blame. He remembers turning William in his rage.

He recalls when he realized William didn't kill Charlie, and who really did. He learned how to do makeup up to mimic himself aging. He recalls when they faked William's death, so Clara couldn't frame him. He shook his head of the memories.

Henry sighed as he looked down at the application in front of him. They were going to release them and finally get rid of her once and for all. "I don't feel comfortable using a random body as bait, even if they have an escape."

William leaned back in his chair. "Henry, I offered to be the guard."

"And I couldn't get you fake papers in order for it to work. I have to play a helpless old man owner." Henry sighs, spreading the single application on his desk. "I don't even think this man is a real person."

"What makes you say that?" William sits up sarcasm laced his tone. "Was it the name Eggs Benedict, or the fact every picture of him has a mask, and it says he worked for Circus Baby's."

"William, that's enough." Henry sighs. "I still have to interview him."

"If he even shows up." William scoffs tossing Henry a blood bag. "Fix your makeup, and you need to redye your roots."

"I know. I know I'll do that by tomorrow night when the interview is." Henry huffs. "I want you hidden so you can listen in."

"Always for you." William smiles.

.....

Henry sat at the diner booth cane by his side, and this anorexic looking man who covered every part of skin on his body and had a smiling bear mask on his face sat in front of him. He had a faint smell of rot and industrial cleaners, and... leather?" He took a breath. "So you must be eggs..."

The man nods. "I hope I'm not too late for the position." His voice has a familiar British accent he couldn't place, and a raspyness like this man hasn't drank anything in 20 years.

"It says here you have worked for us before? Tell me about that." Henry is trying to figure out why the voice was familiar to him.

The man shifted, messing with his gloves. "It was a long time ago. I don't recall much." It was an obvious lie, and even with the mask, he looked uncomfortable as he placed a hand on his stomach.

Something clicked in Henry's mind, and before he could filter his thoughts before he spoke, he blurted something out. "Micheal?"

The man shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't think you could recognize me...." He looks away, pulling his hood over the mask.

Henry pauses he didn't think that he was actually correct, but it made sense. He hasn't seen the boy since that evil witch took him away after William faked his death when Micheal was thirteen. He knows the incident with fredbear and Evan as well, so why would he want this job? He worked at Circus Baby's, too? He sighs. "Micheal, why are you here?"

"I want to end this." Micheal's voice is quiet and tired. "I'm tired of this."

Henry shut his eyes and nodded. "I understand. Are you certain you want to go through with this? There will be an exit for you."

"I don't want it." Micheal pauses. "I don't deserve an exit. Could you tell me one thing, who's that man in the corner? He's been watching us the entire time."

Henry pauses and motions for him to come over. "You don't recognize him?"

Micheal pauses as the man gets closer. "Father...?"

William stops staring at this man. He, of course, couldn't see any identifying features but his voice. He never did get rid of his accent. "Micheal?"

Micheal nods. "You faked your death. I don't really blame you. You look quite well for your age, I can't say the same for myself." It doesn't quite click for Micheal that his father shouldn't look like he's in his early 30s.

"I'm sure you look..." William tries to reach out to take off Micheal's mask. Micheal grabs his hand and pushes it away.

"I don't enjoy taking it off in a public place." Micheal gets up. "I will see you at the new building tomorrow night to start."

"W-wait." Henry pulls his attention. "Come back with us. We can talk in a more private setting." He can see Micheal hesitate but nod. "Follow us to our home, I'm sure you drove here yourself."

.....

Henry can observe a few things he didn't pick up in the diner. Micheal was taller than William, he looks well past anorexic into on the verge of death skinny. His belt was custom-made to go way tighter than it should ever go. The major glaring issue is that Henry couldn't hear a heartbeat.

Micheal shifted nervously on the couch before reaching for his mask. "Just don't scream, ok."

"We won't scream, Micheal. We all have our scars." William leans over the couch Henry was sitting at.

Micheal pulls off the mask. His face was a dark purple his right cheek was gone exposing his teeth. He still had one white out eye. The other was an empty socket with a purple glow coming from inside. The other side of his mouth had stitching to make it look like he was grinning. He didn't have his long brown hair anymore, just splotches of exposed skull and stretch leather purple skin. He places his mask in his lap, turning away. "The job at Circus Baby's didn't go well."

Henry had a look of horror on his face, but it didn't compare to the look of rage on William's face. "W-who did that to you?"

"They did, I was scooped. The anomaly almagmatiom of ennard used my body as a skin suit to leave Baby's." Micheal crosses his arms. "I should be dead. I can't eat, sleep, drink, or do anything but keep going. I want this to end."

William shuts his eyes and takes a breath. He takes a moment and bites his thumb as a guise of worry and walks towards his son. This was a hellmary attempt, a shot in the dark, but he had to try. The black blood bubbled to the surface as he wiped Micheal's gaping wound, showing off his jaw and used the bloody thumb to wipe his wound as a show of comfort. "My poor little fox." He pulls his hand away, knowing he at least got his gums. "Can you stay here before your first shift? I've missed you."

Micheal, if he could cry, he would. Nobody has tried to comfort him, let alone touch his face since it rotted. "Y-yes, I would like that." He stands up and hugs his father. "Ah, don't worry, I'll keep busy while you sleep. I don't sleep so I will take care of all the chores and everything."

Henry frowns. "Micheal, you don't have to.."

Micheal shakes his head. "Uncle Henry, you're in your 70s, and I know you can't do much as you used to, and same to you, father, let me help, please."

William but his lip, Micheal had no idea, and this was not a good time to tell him. He took a breath. "You're allowed to help Micheal. Thank you for caring for us."

Henry looked like he was going to argue when William helped him off the couch to their bedroom. "William?"

"Henry let him have this." William responds quietly up the stairs. "I did what you Americans would call a hellmary. I don't know if it would even work."

"William, what did you do? Your son has been through enough." Henry huffs as he sits in his bed.

"I may have given him some of my blood." William waves his hand. "Listen, it's a stretch, but if it works, it's better than how he is now."

Henry pauses. "He doesn't know about us." He sighs. "Help me remove this makeup. If it works, we have to be open and honest."

"Absolutely." William takes out the makeup remover and enough to get off the silicone wrinkles. "I'll do my best not to get your beard."

"We both know that's impossible. I can't imagine the hell that boy has been through." Henry frowns. "We have to help him."

"I know that he's my boy. I will do anything to help him, anything he asks." William sighs. "We should tell him to keep the black out curtains shut."

"He will keep them shut." Henry smiles then grimaces. "William, careful I don't need you to accidently remove my eyebrow again."

"It was one time, Henry." William huffs.

......

Micheal frowns as he zips up his chest cavity. He emptied everything from it. He had never had the urge to remove what he kept in there, but it suddenly took over him. He shakes his head and scratches at his cheek. He also hasn't had feelings on his rotten flesh since it happened, but now he was itchy. He really didn't know what this meant, but he got the cleaning done.

He sat on the couch, staring at the closed curtains. He wondered when and why his uncle wanted these privacy curtains. He knew his uncle had a sensitivity to sunlight and always covered up when he was outside or wore heavy amounts of sunblock even in the winter. He never understood it, but he knew a multitude of skin conditions existed, and he was probably very unlucky.

He forces his hand away from his face. He didn't want to peal the rest of the skin off his face. He frowns, pulling out a photo from his wallet. It was a picture of him and Jeremy in front of their first and last apartment. Their last conversation before the scooping incident was a fight about how he shouldn't go there and work. He was right.

He knew Jeremy got injured really badly working at a different fazebear location at night, but he never had the confidence to ever see him again. He was a monster, and Jeremy probably hated him for vanishing.

Micheal curls up on the couch with the feeling of exhaustion. Maybe he was finally going to die. It would be worth it. He got to see his father and uncle again. He wished he could have apologized to Jeremy, though. He really missed him. The first and last person he ever truly loved. He stared at the photo before he finally shut his eyes.

.......

Micheal woke up, which in itself was odd. He hasn't been able to sleep in over 30 years. He blinks and rubs his face, and he feels his hands on his face. He swallows, actually swallows, and feels that as well. He nervously pulls off his gloves and degloves the purple flesh on his hands, revealing pale hands.

He stared at his hands in awe. He shakes his head and runs to the bathroom. He starts to remove his many layers of clothes. Purple rotten flesh comes off in chunks, and his pants are tight, and he had to fight to pull them off. More rotten flesh comes off to reveal the pale flesh underneath. He touched his face again, and his nose was back.

He turns on the shower, and he hasn't been able to shower without the risk of mold in decades, let alone feel the warm water. He jumps in like a giddy toddler, excited for bathtime.

He wasn't so happy when all the purple rot that came off clogged the drain. He had his tools, however, so he easily cleaned and fixed it. He finally got the courage to look at himself in the mirror. Blue eyes stared back at him. He had scars at the corners of his mouth, but it was scars not rotting flesh. He had hair too it was short like a buzz cut, but it was hair actual hair, not a wig he got trying to pretend he was normal. His zipper was now a massive scar, but there wasn't a zipper to his empty chest cavity. He even had his dick back.

Micheal smiles, this had to be a dream before he finally died, even so it was amazing. He put his clothes back on, throwing the belt in with the rotten leather flesh. He stretched and cracked his back without fear of tearing his stitches. He sighs, taking his mess into a trash can and tying off the bag.

Micheal pauses hearing movement behind him. He turns to face the movement, and something is stuffed into his mouth. He goes to yell and spit it out, but it popped filling his mouth with a golden nectar of the best thing he has ever tasted. He drained the bag and growled when it was ripped from his mouth.

"Eating plastic isn't good for your health." The voice, it belonged to his father.

Micheal stares at him. "Father, i... uh.."

"You were the one to like horror Micheal, what doesn't age and drink blood?" William raises his brow and smiles as Micheal's mind catches up with him.

"I'm not dead?" Micheal mumbles. Tears were threatening to spill as his lip quivers. "I- you did this." He drops the trash bag and pulls William into a backbreaking hug. "Thank you father, thank you so much."

William gasps. "M-Micheal relax." He pushed away, rubbing his back. "Now you can't go out during the day without copious amounts of sunblock or cover up entirely. You also have to drink blood now."

Micheal stands up straight, looming over his father with his height alone. "Father, I haven't been able to face the public in over 30 years. I don't care what the new rules are. I'm not a rotting corpse anymore."

......

"Hey, how long would it take you to get back to Hurricane?" Henry hums as he holds his phone to his ear.

"Uh..... why?" The voice on the other line responds.

"So I think I can help you with your search." Henry smiles.

"You do realize I'm already in your driveway." The voice laughs. "It's my bite anniversary. I come here every year for that. Did you forget?"

Henry pauses. "Right, it's been a crazy three days."

"Oh yeah, your plan and the new hire. I'm guessing it went through. Hope everything goes well. I'm going to hang up and just come through the front door." The line clicks before Henry can stop him.

"How are the two blood daddies doing." The blonde man pushes his sunglasses into his hair and smirks.

"I abhor, that name Jeremy." William scowls.

"Jeremy?" Micheal pops up from behind the couch.

Jeremy pauses. "...Micheal?"

"Ah, right, I forgot you two went to high school together. Micheal, Jeremy, was turned after his head injury. we could never find out who did it, but we assume it was one of his nurses who pitied him." William stops watching Jeremy leap over the couch, tackling Micheal to the floor.

"You fucking asshole. Where the fuck have you been?" Jeremy can feel tears prick his eyes.

Micheal stares up at him. "Rotting mostly. I uh got scooped at Baby's. Father turned me two nights ago. It's really weird having non purple flesh." He bites his lip. "I'm sorry you were right."

Jeremy's eyes widen. "YOU WERE JUST TURNED?!"

"Y-yes?" Micheal stutters. "You were right. I should have never gone to that job."

Jeremy pulls Micheal into a kiss. "Fuck that I'm sorry. I should have never pushed you away." He pulls Micheal into a hug. He can feel the other man stiffen. "Are you ok?"

"I've haven't had much of any human contact in 30 years." Micheal was crying overwhelmed with the hug by itself.

"Hey hey its okay." Jeremy sighs. "Why did you cut your hair short?"

"I-i didn't. It fell out in clumps after I was a walking corpse." He hiccups and cries.

Jeremy shuts his eyes. Wrong question. He hadn't seen Micheal in decades, and the man looked so broken and scared. He just pulls him into a hug. "I won't make you run again. I'm sorry."

.....

Jeremy watched Micheal go around the house like a robot. He was methodical cleaning everything that was already spotless. He acted as if Henry and his own father weren't there like he was just a background machine working. Their conversation was short and curt, and he didn't even think Micheal understood that was rude.

Jeremy moves next to Henry. "Has he been like the entire time?"

Henry nods. "Getting him to talk is like pulling teeth from a toddler." He sighs. "He's broken, and I don't know how to fix him."

William was trying to get Micheal's attention. "Micheal, would you like to head out and get new clothes?"

"No, sir, I don't want to scare the children." Micheal smiles like a machine programed to do their job. "I will have this don't shortly."

William covers his face. "Micheal, you don't have to keep cleaning."

Micheal walked around him and started on the next part of the room.

William knew the clear signs of abuse, and Micheal didn't have the marks, but he sure did have the attitude of a broken man. He doesn't know what has transpired in the last 30 years for his son, but it wasn't good. He looks to Jeremy. "Go take him somewhere. Please, he won't listen to me."

Jeremy nods. "Of course." He gets up and tries to corner Micheal to grab him and promptly gets kicked in the stomach.

"No!" Micheal growls eyes lighting up blue and purple. "I am not a toy." His expression changes in an instant, and he smiles. "My apologies, Jeremy. I didn't realize it was you."

Jeremy groans, clutching his stomach. "It's ok, Mike."

"Let me finish this, and we can talk." Micheal steps over him, fixing the rest of the living room. He freezes and sinks to his knees. "Fuck... I'm sorry...." He hugs his knees and falls to his side.

Jeremy gets up and runs over to him. "Micheal, I'm fine see look not even a bruise."

"I still hurt you." Micheal covers his face. "The last 30 years haven't been good." He no longer sounded robotic but broken. "I was first taken to a freak show, and well, I was an attraction tied to the bars for years. I had to retrain myself to talk after I got scooped. Then, a wealthy family bought me to be their slave. What could I do? I was dead." He shakes hugging his knees. "I escaped a month ago and saw this job, and I just wanted an end. I don't deserve that either. I killed my little brother because all I wanted was attention, and for the crying to stop. I'm just a selfish freak."

William and Henry share a horrified look.

Jeremy sighs and sits next to Micheal. He places his hand on Micheal's back. "You've suffered enough, Micheal."

"No, I haven't." Micheal curls up tighter.

......

Micheal sat awkwardly in his seat, rebuttoning his uniform as Jeremy stared at him. "I uh you didn't have to come with me here."

Jeremy smiles. "Someone's got to teach you the basics of vampirism." He watches Micheal shrug and adjust his security hat.

"Father can teach me. You have your own life." Micheal frowns. "You've moved on, and I'm just stuck in the past."

Jeremy didn't want to burst Micheal's bubble. To be honest, he never did get over Micheal he loved the man, and even after his injury, he kept looking for him. Mr. Emily was helpful in getting him set up, and Mr. Afton enjoyed the stories about him and his son. They became a second family to him, but something was missing, and he knew that was Micheal. "Eh, don't beat yourself up. We're both relics at this point."

Micheal smiled softly. "I mean, we're not that old."

"Tell that to the youth of this era." Jeremy chuckles.

"Oh hush." Micheal smiles a bit wider, showing off his new fangs.

.......