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mantisgodsdomain · 6 months

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Falling victim to madness in the Chilaios Discord part one (with a link to the post mentioned at the end). Part 2 linked here (note: slightly more nsfw text). Transcript below cut.

A Discord conversation between three discord users - us, nicknamed Speculative Vore Cookbook, Cup of Chilaios Soup, and Oh Kay! (wormlette).

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Experiencing the impulse to rewrite the changeling chapters for fun and profit. Do you think that considering that half-foots apparently see dwarves as Extremely Attractive Laios sparks some kind of Thing in Chilchuck as a dwarf

Cup of Chilaios soup: GRABS YOU PLEASE CONTINUE

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Listen considering Us there will be spec bio about this but. Listen. Since we've been doing the species as "uncanny-valley-type not quite Like You" for the most part with just a little bit of increased compatibility within "families". Do you think that it would be fun if he can suddenly see all of Laios's features in this new light of this particular species. Where all of the tallman features abruptly come into focus in a format far more recognizable and all of a sudden he can draw some Very Certain Lines to someone who is abruptly several times more recognizably attractive rather than, like, would be very attractive if it weren't for the subtle distortion of species.

Cup of Chilaios soup: my third eye has opened

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Do you think being a tallman himself would help with that? An abrupt distortion of the brain. Do you think he would be able to draw back those memories to abruptly have the uncanny-valley barrier splinter under the force of, y'know, he knows precisely what that translates to, and with the added perspective it seems much less alien, and much more "for the love of god he's not supposed to be getting crushes on the job"

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We need to make elves Weirder for this also. They're like the only race on the chart right now that Doesn't have a close-relation group where things like attraction translate more easily we need to make them more fucked up Absently rotating the idea of dwarves having an excellent sense of smell compared to their other close relatives both for enhancing their appreciation for Good Food (a surprising amount of taste is tied up in your sense of smell) and for underground navigation & communication And Laios will absolutely be Weird About It

Cup of Chilaios soup: Laios: wow Chilchuck why do you smell so breedable (gets crushed by a rock)

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Walks up to Chilchuck and starts sniffing him unprompted so he can deliver a food-critic review of his scent Breedable waits for whenever we actually get ourself to do sex pollen heatfic and can also do cool spec bio stuff but like with reproductive cycles Still rotating the idea of making DM tallmen Weirder. We already know they're taller than IRL humans we need to add like some extra fuckshit in there We've got to do the speculative biology first you see. Make it more fucked up. We've already set it up so they're fairly closely related to orcs we might as well add some fantasy bullshit in there.

Cup of Chilaios soup: Tallmen have slower metabolisms maybe? And they need to at A Lot to support their mass? You are so correct eat A Lot*

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (replying to initial message): wait hold on holy fuck man.

Speculative Vore Cookbook: So far what we have for them as their Thing They're Known for is like. Endurance. Tallmen Specifically are known to be able to walk for hours without growing too tired. Not quite as strong as orcs or ogres, of course, but they're tall enough that they practically eat up ground with every stride, and they just don't stop moving.

Cup of Chilaios soup: passing the braincell around like it's a joint KINGS OF TIRING THEIR PREY OUT

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Orcs and ogres are ofc known for their brutal strength, which is Significantly Less Pronounced in humans - but all that strength burns energy, and they'll tire out far faster. Humans just keep going, far beyond what they really should be capable of.

Cup of Chilaios soup: guys who will climb a fcking mountain and be like ":D wanna walk back to town on foot"

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We think that the Big Thing People Know for elves would be their magic but we think that the magic thing is less about being naturally predisposed to it or whatever and more on the fact that enough of their society circles around it that pretty much any elf you meet's been deliberately raised to cultivate their magic, We think that their actual primary feature, like, physically, would be like. We're basing them on ungulates, right? Elves have long, willowy limbs, especially compared to their bodies. Look very graceful as adults who have had centuries of experience walking around and like wretched ganglebeasts at any point when they haven't gotten the hang of it yet. ABSURDLY fast in a sprint, because those long-ass legs are useful for Something, and that Something is being on runnable stilts. Not much stamina, though. (we are returning to this because we are fond of Marcille and we want her to be, like, Weird but in a way where they pass it off as Normal Elf Weird until the Changeling Thing happens and they have to cope with the fact that actually, elves are way weirder, and Marcille is weird in how close she is to other races as opposed to. Uhh. That Fucking Setup

Speculative Vore Cookbook (replying to Cup of Chilaios soup": "guys who will climb a fcking mountain"): Tallmen will climb a mountain carrying equipment on their back and need like a thirty minute breather tops before they're back up and at it like "okay now time to go down the other side" We think it's fun if it's a thing like the half-foot/dwarf/gnome cluster's enhanced senses, where the Absurd Stamina is part of what their other close relations have going for them, but whereas orcs and ogres have it to a Reasonable degree, Tallmen specialize really hard into doing this One Thing and get it in spades. Much like how half-foots spent all of their stat points in their ridiculously sensitive senses, to the detriment of things like strength and durability, tallmen have stupid amounts of stamina. Don't have to be as strong as your close relatives when you can simply outlast them!

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (replying to Speculative Vore Cookbook "returning to this because we are fond of Marcille): really like learning abt elf weirdness in the context of marcille, specifically as a half elf. really liked how that reveal was handled, since fionil is also a half-elf i didnt notice for a LONG time that she was perhaps different than other elves. i really like that!!! tall-men just have a lot of stamina. basically canon re: how much shit laios carries around. particularly in a good dog RIP they're like. alaskan mal specced. they just keep going and going forever

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We think that her, like, subtly softer features and such get Very Fun especially with the potential familiarity aspect vs what full elves have going on if we go full weird on elves because we fucking love how Absolutely Fucked ungulate anatomy is and it scratches a little itch in the back of our brain to let the Graceful Forest People overlap with, like. You Know The Specific Flavor Of Creepypasta Beast

Oh Kay! (wormlette): ^forever comparing everything to dog breeds

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We casually mention that Falin's wrist bones are shorter than elf wrist bones in Drain Your Well Dry and we really need to elaborate on that some day Marcille is like the shetland pony of elves in that she's got like WAY more just… bulk, compared to an elf that's normally like 98% gangle 2% meat And she's still, like, insanely boney compared to human standards. We like to think she has the build of a greyhound. Insanely long for no reason.

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting Speculative Vore Cookbook "casually mentioned Falin's wrist bones are shorter): I NOTICED!!! I LUV THAT… marcille studying ennervation and everything… it kills me… i always thought of her as so carefree looking in her little spellbook and walking around and now im haunted by like. how much of it was her studying human anatomy for what she feared was inevitable!

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting "like to think she has the build of a greyhound"): oh yeaaaag sighthound build would be GOOD for elves.

Speculative Vore Cookbook: But she still looks… More Similar To Other Races, y'know. You can see the similarities to her and other races and it makes it a tiny bit easier to slowly feel more at ease around her. Elves are weird and you don't see them often, but y'know, you've been around This One Elf long enough to start picking up on stuff, y'know? She's not that different from you, when it comes down to it, and sure she's a bit childish but that's probably normal for longer-lived races who're in the first halves of their lives, honestly. Aging slower and all. You can draw the lines if you pay enough attention, you've spent enough time socializing with other species that you can figure out the basic key, and though there are some things in there that really throw you off, as with any other race, it's not like you're handling an entirely new skull structure like with kobolds, right? It's readable, with enough time. Similar enough to tallmen that you can use your experience there and then fill in the gaps. And then you meet full-blooded elves when the Canaries come knocking and these guys are WAY more offputting than you thought actually. What the fuck is up with them? What the hell?

Cup of Chilaios soup: They have the reflective deer eyes from those horror edits

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Putting elves as a weird isolated branch in the humanoid evolution tree was a galaxy brain decision for us tbh. Their whole Weird Superiority Thing very much gets worse when they're the only people who don't have close relatives they can reference from. The other long-lived races seem to mingle FAR easier than them, and though we know it's The Attitude and such, it's fun to make them just… offputting.

Oh Kay! (wormlette): your miiiind

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting "not like reading an entirely new skull structure like kobolds): btw dont you love the thingie about kobolds having a vocal chord structure that doesnt realy support them speaking common. so no matter how smart they are they seem "animalistic" to humans. i love that a lot it's like. hmm. i really like when it's not body horror by itself but put into a societal context, it BECOMES horrifying. u know? it would be fine. except the dehumanization it leads to

Speculative Vore Cookbook: YESSSS it slaps so hard. We think that there should be more bonus subtle differences with just random other races we think it's SO fun when biology fucks you over just as firmly as society.

Cup of Chilaios soup: SO TRUE KAY Rotating all these thoughts in my mind

Speculative Vore Cookbook: It's not that something is wrong with you. It's that you weren't built for this world the same way that everyone else was.

Cup of Chilaios soup: The parallels,,,,, the themes,,,,, Biting my leg

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Anyways do you think that part of the reason Kabru is so Like That is because he went from normal human body language to a bunch of elves with the same general bauplan but next to no shared body language vocabulary, Do you think he had to like manually learn how elves express social emotions with a race so isolated that they're probably developing whole separate methods of socialization completely divorced from anything the short-lived races even do and then had to relearn how to act like a Human when he went back into the world.

Cup of Chilaios soup: OH MY GOD Also sorry but Idk how far some of the peeps reading the manga are, perhaps it would be nice to spoiler the Kabru thing:0 BUT I AGREE THIS IS SCRATCHING MY BRAIN KABRU MY BELOVED THIS HEADCANON IS SUCH GOOD BRAIN FOOD

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We love making fantasy races like just a little bit more fucked up

Cup of Chilaios soup: As you should!!!!!!!

Speculative Vore Cookbook: TBH it widens the gap between species if they're, like, similar enough that you think you Should be able to interpret the signals they're giving off because they look Just Similar Enough that they should emote and socialize and such like you, right? But the similarity is, as they say, mostly just skin-deep, because it does so much more to widen cultural differences when the cultures also work on different biology. Anyways we think half-foot communities should be really dense in population because they descended from an ancestor with the Meerkat Strategy of having a fuckton of people with very sharp senses all looking out for the same colony in such a way where there's always at least one person awake to raise the alarm and we think it's fun if half-foots are set up for a significantly more tactile & densely-populated community than most other species.

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting Speculative Vore Cookbook "part of the reason Kabru is so Like That): I DO. I DO THINK THAT. DO YOU THINK THAT tallman socialization feels so coarse and simple and easy-to-read by comparison.

Speculative Vore Cookbook: It's cool & fun if Chilchuck has to deliberately avoid almost all forms of touch to avoid being demeaned and seen as Lesser And Childish while also being wired to have like minimum five hours of skin contact with colony members per day tbh. Touch starve that man in ways that are difficult to understand for his party that he will actively have to muffle if he wants to be taken Seriously because most other races see it as Childish to cling

Speculative Vore Cookbook (quoting Oh Kay "I DO THINK THAT"): YES and we think it's very fun if him having to manually relearn tallman socialization also makes it so he finds it easier to interpret other races because he already has to like work out what Everyone's thinking from a pre-prepped body language dictionary and it's just so much easier to interpret when he doesn't have to re-invent the wheel every time

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting Speculative Vore Cookbook "childish to cling": @_@ im so FUCKING normal

Speculative Vore Cookbook: :333 The changeling chapter constantly lives rent-free in our brain we think it's fun if like anyone who gets half-footed starts experiencing the intense skin hunger cravings like less than an hour in and have no idea what the Fuck it is because they've never lived in a body made to be that Social before and Chilchuck has to like take over to offer a bit of touch even if it's undignified since. Y'know. He knows how it feels. No reason to subject them to that, even if it's gonna cost a bit of dignity. It'll cost them more dignity if they start freaking out over it. It's efficient :333 Dealing with senses cranked up so high that you can tell when someone's moving around clear on the other side of the building probably makes it a whole lot harder to handle even More stimuli in a normal and dignified manner Something something we're grabbing a cool post we made

#we speak #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #chilaios #admittedly little of it. we go fully into the madness here #fantasy biology #changelings #marcille donato #kabru of utaya #chilchuck tims #headcanons #speculative biology #also like. one mention of heat in here but not enough to merit a tag

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theresattrpgforthat · 4 months

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Any ttrpgs with a distinctive “grunge” aesthetic?

THEME: Grunge

Hello friend, I’m really glad you asked this question! Grunge feels like it fits indie ttrpg design so well, because so much of it emphasizes low-budget, DIY and messy styles. As a style of music, I understand grunge is about being dissonant, dark, and “ugly”. As a theme, what I understand about grunge is that it’s about alienation, isolation, and disenchantment with how society is right now, which is so so relevant to how we feel about our current quality of life right now.

That being said, there’s so much that can be explored in grunge, I feel like there’s a lot of different pieces that could make a work “grunge’. So while I think the games that I’m presenting here all fit some element of grunge, some of them might not fit the elements of grunge that you’re looking for.

Games by Adam Vass.

Adam’s games are often nihilistic, horrific, and creatively designed with mixed media, visual distortion, and a focus on the grotesque or the weird. This includes No Future, a time loop game about punks throwing one last party, Born To Die, a pamphlet ttrpg about anthropomorphic animals in a post-human waste world, and Cybermetal 2012, a lo-fi metal cyberpunk game about surviving in an isolated city of warped technology.

If you love horror as well as a bit of a dystopian edge, you’ll probably want to check out Adam Vass’s work.

Here, There, Be Monsters, by wendi yu.

No matter what they tell you, there’s still weirdness and wonder everywhere. You just have to know where to look. At the edges and cracks of ‘normal’ life we exist, we persist, and we resist: the monsters, the magicians, the anomalies, the freaks, and the outcasts. We gather in the shadows, trying our best to live our lives in a world that, when it doesn’t exactly fear or hate us, doesn't even believe in our existence.

But we’re still here. We’re not going anywhere. And we fight back.

While the layout and art direction of Here, There, Be Monsters is purposeful and cohesive, the goal of this game feels very grunge in the sense that it is meant to acknowledge the messiness and unapologetic anger present in the monster characters. There's a lot of bodies in this art, and these bodies are meant to challenge you - if you find them difficult to look at, that's a you problem, and that feels in tune with the spirit of grunge.

I feel like this game is probably more on the border of punk and grunge, but if what you’re looking for is a game that feels chaotic and embraces the dark and “disgusting” material that grunge is known to celebrate, than this might be worth checking out.

Dead Mall: The Last Great Beast, by Hunter J Allen.

They built us altars only to abandon them. Now they sit as dying, empty relics. No matter what they tell you never forget: These are our relics, not theirs. Don't let them pass gently into that sweet goodnight. They were made for profit but they remain as our playgrounds. If we choose to let them.

This here is a mini-zine and Bingo card about the American shopping mall and its relationship to us, our collective nostalgia, and the significance of cultural ruins.

This is more of a solo bingo game than a roleplaying game, but I think it might be an interesting way to build a modern “dungeon” for something like Liminal Horror. The zine also re-contextualizes a piece of American architecture that was so ingrained into the middle-class experience of the 80’s, 90’s and early 2000’s. I’m intrigued by how you could use this idea of decay and neglect in other urban fantasy and horror games.

MÖRK BORG, by Ockult Örtmästare Games.

MÖRK BORG is a pitch-black apocalyptic fantasy RPG about lost souls and fools seeking redemption, forgiveness or the last remaining riches in a bleak and dying world. Who are you? The tomb-robber with silver glittering between cracked fingernails? The mystic who would bend the world’s heart away from it’s inevitable end? Confront power-draining necromancers, skulking skeletal warriors and backstabbing wickheads. Wander the Valley of the Unfortunate Undead, the catacombs beneath the Bergen Chrypt or the bedevilled Sarkash forest. But leave hope behind - the world’s cruel fate is sealed, and all your vain heroic efforts are destined to end in death and dismay. Or are they?

This is a black comedy style of game that I think has a lot of overlap with the grunge aesthetic. It’s received a number of awards for its art style, which is chaotic, monochromatic, and as best as I can describe it, “sludgy.” Then again, you might look at Mork Borg and feel like it’s more metal than grunge: it’s not casual, but rather designed for shock value. The world is destined to end, and your characters are futilely trying to make a difference in it; a lot of the cues seem to point to your own characters being not necessarily good people.

The Prophet, by The Punk Theologian.

The Prophet is a solo-journaling role-playing game. It requires a tarot deck and can be played in as little as 30 minutes or over days.

Receiving Revelations: Turn over a tarot card and let the prompts and the card image be the revelation from the deity that called you. Navigating through visions of struggle and cries of despair, following the guiding flames of insight, to help turn your people’s trajectory towards justice and equity.

Overcome Events: Flip coins to find out if the people heed your warnings and are aided by their deity in overcoming enemy invasion, surviving a great earthquake, or a raging fire, or are crushed by the weight of divine condemnation reaping upon themselves the consequences of sewing the seeds of inequity.

When it comes to aesthetics, The Prophet feels very DIY-inspired, and when it comes to design, I think the fact that it’s a solo game contributes to the feeling of isolation: your status as a prophet may separate you from your peers, and if your predictions go unnoticed, you could feel even more alone. The inspiration of the creator is defined as “punk,” but since punk is a genre that grunge pulls a lot of inspiration from, I don’t think that this necessarily disqualifies The Prophet from being a “grunge” - style game.

#iHunt, by Machine Age Productions.

#iHunt is a story telling game about killing monsters in the gig economy. In it, you play millennials scraping by paycheck to paycheck to make ends meet. A gig app called #iHunt offers them more money than they've ever made to hit the streets and kill vampires, werewolves, demons, and anything else that goes bump in the night.

The base game of #iHunt centres around the soul-crushing nature of the gig economy, which in and of itself I think is a great focus for a grunge-style game. The supplemental zines created by the designer have a very chaotic and collage-like look, taking photos or public domain art and re-mixing them to create something new. If you want to get really grunge, you might want to check out The 90’s Sucked Ass Or Whatever, which is focused on the specific events and details that would affect your disillusioned monster hunters during the height of grunge.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #grunge

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yuri-is-online · 9 months

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Back with some more thought experiments! This time, let’s talk about the actual worldbuilding of Twisted Wonderland. I mean, this is a completely separate world where fairytales and fantastical things actually exist. It’s functionally impossible for Twisted Wonderland to just be Earth plus some Disney sprinkled on top.

The biggest point that really gets me is that fact that methods to foresee the future exist. Astrology is a valid class in NRC and Yuu suffers from plot convenient prophetic visions. The mere idea that the future can be foreseen should have huge ramifications on how businesses and governments operate. Imagine knowing the effect of a deal or policy before it even happens. Or minimizing crisis by knowing about it before it strikes.

Magic should also affect technological development. We know that there was an age before magic was widespread among humans, thanks to Trein in GloMas. In that sense, I can see how up to a point technological development may be similar… but post-magic the technology should be different due to a different set of limitations.

Language is also an interesting topic. Setting aside things that humans probably can’t event speak like the Fae languages seen in game, what of the languages used in Twisted Wonderland? Would they be similar to Earth as a result of the Disney movies used to create its history? Does that explain why Rook speaks French?

This isn’t accounting for religion either. The Age of the Gods is a thing, drawing from the Hercules movie. That would mean that the Greek gods actually exist in Twisted Wonderland. So how did they fall out of worship? I mean, only Hades seems to be recognized anymore due to the Great Seven, and not even in a religious way.

Look, I’m going to hit the character count if I keep trying to list all of my questions. This is just all so fascinating! And true to my fixation on Yuu, this is all great content for exploring just how alien Twisted Wonderland must feel. Like, Yuu should honestly ask more questions. I don’t buy how easily they adapted in the game.

- 🦐

*cracks knuckles* Shrimp you have brought up stuff I've been thinking about for a hot second, I'm so glad you have come into my inbox ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

I agree that I don't think Yuu would have adjusted as easily as they are depicted to in game, but this is a mobile app gacha game licensed by Disney so it's not going to focus as much on stuff like that. Luckily that's what we're here to do anyway~ I am going to go through these points one by one.

Point One: Astrology

The most we learn about how fortune telling works in game is from the Scalding Sands hometown event. There is an exchange between Cater, Trey, and Jamil about using coffee grinds to tell fortunes, and Trey specifically says something I think is interesting: we get two really interesting lines:

From what's said here we can tell two things: A) there is a distinct difference between types of fortunes and B) a distinct difference in the quality of fortune tellers. Someone like Cater is correct most of the time with his divination, but not everyone will be making actively relying on it for major decisions. I could absolutely see older kingdoms having a seer employed who a ruler could call on for supernatural advice, but I don't think that would be common practice in modern day Wonderland outside of maybe Briar Valley. Besides, just because you know something bad will happen doesn't mean you will be able to efficiently mobilize your forces in time to make a meaningful difference.

Speaking of which, not to touch on spoilers too much but Leven seems to be implied to posses the ability to actually clearly see the future, and as for Yuu's visions...

Well Lilia says he thought they might have a curse like Silver's (not that he knew why they were dizzy)... and the ability to see the future IS often handed out in Greek Myths as a curse, but well. Make of that what you will.

Point Two: Magi-Tech

The way technology works in Twisted Wonderland is a bit vague. From how Idia talks, I think there is a distinct difference between technology and magitechnology, with Idia specifically specializes in the latter. I actually went a really long time thinking that since Yuu hadn't a single trace of magic on them they wouldn't be able to ride a magi-wheel because of how Deuce talks about it syncing with your own magic and what not. Even magicless people in Twisted Wonderland don't seem to be completely magicless, they just don't have enough of a mana pool to actually cast a spell.

I think it would make sense to suggest magic and magitechnology probably affected Twisted Wonderland's development in the same way the silicone chip did ours, but the key difference would be that if you put too much magic into a device most humans can't use it. That would bring up a completely separate set of setbacks and issues... while there might not be a difference in the type of things built their internal construction would definitely be wildly different.

Part Three: Language

I think the easiest answer to this is yes. We know there is a "common" language that most places now use... I like to headcannon that language as being unique to Twisted Wonderland but I have seen some people think it is probably English. Which brings out my scrunchy face because the prevalence of English in our world is because of the British Empire... which never existed in Twisted Wonderland.

Rook speaks French because one of his favorite plays is set in Fleur City/the Shaftlands... which as a side note. In his Vampire card vignette he names the play that made him like Neige so much: Kingsroad~ The Sword to Become King!~ which is literally the Sword in the Stone based off of the little song he sings from it. I have been going crazy since GloMas thinking about if this suggests that King Arthur is french in Twisted Wonderland or if Rook is referring to another play... personally I think he's from Sage's Island but that's a crack for another post

Part Four: Greek Myths and Religion

There doesn't really seem to be any religious presence in Twisted Wonderland at all. It's unclear if Hades was ever worshiped or if he was just referred to as a god due to his perceived immortality and power. Given that there is something called the Jupiter group... and the Shrouds are a branch of the Jupiter family... AND that the Titans you fight in Chapter 6 are yelling about getting to and killing Jupiter... I think that it's highly likely there are events in Twisted Wonderland's history that correlate to the stories of the Great Seven, but didn't necessarily involve the Great Seven themselves. It's just that those events are remembered as having been done by them... for some unknown reason. Not to be conspiratorial... but do we have any proof they ever actually lived in Twisted Wonderland at all? (━＿━)ゝSure there are relics and things, and there are apparently paintings in the Land of Dawning Meusuem, but where did they come from? How old are they? I don't need sleep I need answers, is this a primary or a secondary source about the Queen of Hearts Riddle?

The End

I also wish Yuu would ask more questions, but I get why they don't :/ this is a gacha game blah blah blah but also. I don't think Yuu knows what questions to ask, there's a lot of stuff about life you don't think about as being abnormal until someone looks at you funny and I think Yuu realistically does a lot of that, but if you put every single instance of that into a game it would get very exposition heavy very fast. Luckily you, I, and everyone reading this have massive brains and can talk to each other about it!!!

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst yuu #twst theories

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sapphiresterreart · 1 year

Text

Inspired by this post: where Shadow finds Super Sonic and ONLY Super Sonic attractive. Sonic's normal self is not wanted.

It made me cackle because I couldn't help but picture Shadow deciding to explore this gay awakening in the most convoluted way possible. Cue me getting carried away with the idea and scribbling a rough scene.

Stuffed under the Read More.

At one point after seeing Sonic's glow-up into Super a few times, Shadow's brain latches onto an idea and goes insane until he scratches the metaphorical itch.

He zooms around the entire planet to collect the 7 Chaos Emeralds AND the maximum amount of rings a single person can hold.

Randomly shows up at Tails’ workshop/house one day, looking particularly deranged to the poor fox because the guy's spent the past month running himself ragged and is now gunning for his older brother for some unfathomable reason. Eggman couldn’t possibly have recovered from the last beat down in such short time! Something’s clearly wrong.

Shadow’s carefully manicured quills are in utter disarray. Gunk and grease coat his muzzle. Gloves notably tattered and inhibitor rings tarnished. There’s a suspicious smearing of red all over his typically immaculate chest fluff. Worst of it all are his eyes: near feral in their intensity as they pin the fox in his computer chair from afar.

The surly hedgehog snarls. “Where’s Sonic?”

All the while, Shadow has to keep ahold of the seven emeralds that prolly act like magnets and want to repel away from each other. His sanity’s hanging on a thread.

Luckily Sonic shows up soon (instead of late? First time for everything! What a relief) after a brief, albeit frantic call from his lil bro.

Sonic does not expect Shadow to look like such a wreck. He does not expect his usually composed rival to yank an absurd amount of rings from the pocket dimension everyone had in their feathers, fur, or otherwise back part of their body. He does not expect those same rings to be shoved into his hands and quills, forcibly stuffing them into his own ‘inventory’ of a pocket dimension.

He does not expect the rings to keep coming until he can’t hold anymore.

He does not expect the Seven Chaos Emeralds to immediately follow after.

“Shad–” Sonic tries, absolutely baffled.

“Transform.” Shadow gives him nothing except a haggard sort of desperation. “Now.”

And. Well. When asked like that? Damn. He won’t say no but that’s some voice his rival has on him. Hmm. Still. He doesn’t go super just yet because there’s only so long a transformation can last and he’d like some of the facts first. Especially if the situation’s as dire as Shadow’s making it out to be.

“What’s up?” He tosses out a tense smirk and a quip to lighten the mood. “Got yourself in trouble with the law again, Shads? Need me to use your own money to bail–“

“Transform.” Shadow staggers and oh no he’s gonna pass out isn’t he? He straightens before he can truly fall.

Sonic lets the smirk fall. This is too unusual. “Not until you tell me what’s going on! What the heck Shadow?”

The glare intensifies. He looks weirdly… hungry? Oh. He hopes that's not some alien DNA comin’ out to play. Sonic’s not in the mood to be eaten. At least… not in the way his shoot-first-questions-later friend would likely consider.

“…Transform first and then I’ll tell you.”

What an oh-so generous counter-offer. Sonic’s tempted to refuse on principle but the guy looks ready to collapse and there’s only so long Sonic himself can hold all seven emeralds at once before they launch outta his grip.

He sighs. “Yeah, alright.”

Sonic closes his eyes. Concentrates. Feels the power humming in the gems, lets them push away from him with him as their center of gravity to orbit. Momentum builds as they whirl around him. His focus deepens. A zen sort of calm settles over him like a familiar cloak as he pulls the gems back into his core sense of being. A spark ignites and he’s set aflame.

His feet leave the floor as the power repels him against the planet. Feels the gems thrumming alongside his veins as he opens his eyes. The world glitters a beautiful gold but he doesn’t have time to smell the roses. Rings are burning like a candlestick’s wick, after all.

“Start talking.”

Shadow does not start talking. Instead he stares. Only stares. It’s… kind of concerning, actually.

“Shadow?” Super Sonic frowns, spending more energy concentrating on maintaining the sheer power humming in his soul than on coming up with a funny joke. “Are you alright?”

Shadow doesn’t make a sound. Is he even breathing? Super Sonic’s brow furrows and gently glides from near the ceiling to hover in front of his rival. Red eyes track the movement like a predator intent on its prey but Super’s not worried about that. Not right now, at least.

Keeping his expression soft, yet unwittingly focused, Super examines his rival’s disheveled state. For the Ultimate Lifeform, he looks ultimately wrecked. He smirks, just a lil, and Shadow hones in on it like a laser beam. Super blinks, smirk twisting into a puzzled smile as he tilts his head, before slowly grasping Shadow by the shoulder.

“C’mon focus, Shadow. You with me?” Wide, red eyes blink dumbly and Super huffs a laugh. “How can I help?”

Shadow. Doesn’t respond. Merely gapes at him like he’s drinking in the sight. It’d be flattering at any other time but right now it’s just frustrating.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s goin’ on. On a time limit here–“

“You have full inventory.”

Finally! He speaks! But lacks sense. “What?”

“Rings.” Shadows answers though that doesn’t answer much. Choosing instead to fall silent once more and continue staring.

Super doesn’t know what to do with any of this so he turns to someone who might. “Tails? Any clues?”

“N-no…” His lil bro trots over to them, visibly disturbed. Good. Glad he’s not the only one confused here.

“I’m burnin’ rings.” Super settles for instead. “Thought you said it was urgent?”

“I thought it was.” Tails gestures at the catatonic state of their friend. “I mean look at him! What was I supposed to say?”

“Well.” Super starts strong only to trail off.

He pivots in the air, still hovering in front them both. Cups his chin with a thoughtful frown. Absently skims the cluttered workshop as he slowly spins in place before re-centering with a shrug. It’s surprisingly hard to keep focus and maintain the super form when there’s no imminent threat. Without anything to go on, he's just wasting power. So. His gaze returns to his battered rival.

“If nothing else I could try this?”

He drifts closer to the still stunned speechless ‘hog. Frowns slightly at the white part of Shadow’s eyes. They’d reddened significantly. Had he blinked once in the past minute or two? Nothing worth worrying over, he supposed. Not if this worked.

Super reaches a hand, still glowing a vibrant gold and soft flames of light emanating off him, and gently braces a palm against the side of Shadow’s face. Shadow doesn’t even move as Super closes his eyes.

Tails shifts beside them. “Try what?”

Super hums. “We’ll see if it works first, buddy.”

The sound vibrates in his chest and makes its way down the arm connecting him to his rival. The rings are burning slower than usual but once he starts this, they start burning like they would in battle.

Super focuses the gem’s energy from their raw state of chaotic power into something he can channel into another person. He smoothes corrosive edges, softens acidic potency, gentles the sheer intensity of it all and funnels them through his own energy. Pours bits of his own chaos mixed with the gem’s through that funnel in his palm. Pushes it from there into Shadow’s own energy.

Shadow doesn’t do anything more than gasp sharply and let him do his thing. Super mentally shrugs, privately delighted by the fact Shadow was letting him touch him at all especially his face, and continues his foray into healing via chaos energy.

The rings are gone even faster than in battle and soon after the last wound has closed and Super’s pulled away, the power keeping him aloft drains completely. The golden glow fades from his quills and they drop back into blue as he returns to the ground, his normal self once again. His grasp on the chaos emeralds slacken and the tension that had been building between the seven finally releases. The gems launch themselves harmlessly out of him like a slingshot and scatter once more.

He bounces a step from the residue energy crackling inside him and beams at his rival. “So now that that’s over with, mind telling us why you came all this way looking like you crawled outta a dumpster caught on fire?”

That of all things has Shadow snapping back to himself. Any awe lingering in his rival’s face vanishes. Fully returns to his normally composed self as he straightens and crosses his arms with a muted huff.

“Merely an experiment. Good day.” Whirls on a heel with shoes revving, dips his head in what might’ve been a polite farewell at his lil bro. “Prower.”

And leaves. He leaves. The cryptic jerk leaves.

Sonic gawks. “Whuh–? What was that?” He spins to face his brother. “Did you see that? Did you see?”

“I saw.”

“Didn’t even say goodbye to me! Me! He was the one who asked me to come all this way! I was next in line for brainiac dogs over in Spagonia, you know. Not as good as chili dogs but it was buy one get one free day! What the heck?”

His younger brother can only shrug helplessly with a puzzled smile, twin tails swishing behind him. “Don’t know, big bro. He did say it was an experiment.”

“Experiment in driving me insane, maybe! Now I’m gonna go crazy trying to figure him out.”

“You mean you weren’t already?”

“Tails!” He grins and hooks an arm around his annoyingly adorable baby bro. “I’ll show you who’s crazy!”

His bro only laughs and swats at the fist digging into his hair. Futilely fighting against the inevitable noogie but he's got him secured by the shoulders. “Have mercy! I’m not the one who spent the past month looking for seven whole emeralds and an entire inventory’s worth of rings.”

“I’ll give ya that!” Sonic cackles and lets him free. “What was up with that anyway?”

Elsewhere, unbeknownst to the brothers, one Shadow the Hedgehog was having a crisis of epic proportions. He had discovered a new, albeit incredibly difficult goal in life: to have Sonic turn Super more often than not because wow did he look alluring with a face of focused intensity framed by golden hues.

#Sonadow #Sonic the Hedgehog #Shadow the Hedgehog #Super Sonic #Fanfic #Sonic

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bakageta · 1 year

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I think I'm gonna post Blue Beetle stuff here first and not worry about things like editing and coming up with a summary and thinking up a title. I'm running off vibes right now and don't wanna wait.

This is totally inspired by @wazzappp's anatomy post. I already wanted to do something about why it took (relatively) longer for Jaime's back to heal and that post just gave me more to write about. I wanna write more too! So throw body horror ideas at me plz!!!!

---

After the wake and the funeral and the burial and the mourning, after everything calmed down and everyone had a chance to breathe, Jaime looked at the scarab on his back again.

It wasn’t the first time he’d showered since everything, of course, but it was the first time he’d been able to focus on his thoughts instead of quietly disassociating until he was clean. Now he was appreciating the amenities in the hotel suite Jenny’d set the Reyes family up in while their home was repaired. There was a rainfall shower head. The toilet had an actual bidet that had sprayed Rudy’s ass the first time he’d taken a shit.

As always Khaji was ticking away in the back of his head, reassuringly present in a way Jaime didn’t want to look too closely at yet. It didn’t say anything though.

“Soap won’t bother you, right?” He hadn’t scrubbed himself down in a week or so. Partly because he’d been busy and then distracted, but also because just the shampoo running down his back during the first shower after it all had burned at the raw edges between his skin and Khaji Da.

Correct. We are fully healed now.

“Bien.” He squeezed the last of the sample sized hotel soap onto a washcloth and reached over his shoulder to start scrubbing. The scarab between his shoulder blades is anchored firmly, he can feel its legs under his muscles.

That wasn’t a surprise. Jaime had felt every moment of Khaji burrowing up his spine and digging a home in his back. What was new was the strange… straps? the straps crossed above his shoulders and under his arms beneath his skin. They came from the scarab, where its front and back legs would be like, like it was some kind of awful fucking backpack.

“Khaji?” Jaime dropped the washcloth and shifted so he was able to trace up his spine. The three knots of alien tissue that Khaji had left like breadcrumbs also had straps running below his skin. Bending forward, Jaime realized he was able to feel where the straps anchored and the dips in his back where nothing had changed. “What am I feeling Khaji?”

The anchors for my carapace and sensory nodes. It hesitated, something it had only started doing after, as it started to learn when and when not to elaborate. They secure me and reduce the risk of damage or dislodgement. The growth of new tissue is why your back took so long to heal. Our efforts were split: your body prioritized your epidermis and my systems prioritized my security.

Sure. That made sense. Self preservation was a thing for alien symbiotes. The odd tug Jaime’d felt moving around was the growth of Khaji’s anchors and not muscle soreness like he’d assumed. Or maybe Khaji’s anchors counted as muscles. Wonderful. It also answered a question he’d never thought to ask: why his back had looked so bad for so long while cuts and scrapes healed in minutes. Great.

The hotel probably didn’t let guests on the roof.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t get there.

Jaime waited until after his shower, after Millagro took over the bathroom, after he hugged Mama and Nana, and after he swore up and down to Rudy that he wasn’t gonna fly off, to go to the roof. He made his way up the stairs, shorted out the electronic lock with a subtle lick of blue energy, and laid down on the flat gravel and tar paper roof. Like this he could feel Khaji and its nodes digging into his back alongside larger chunks of stone, foreign objects embedded in his body.

The sky was clear, but this close to Palmera, the stars might as well be invisible except for the most bright. Still enough to ground Jaime, to make him feel a part of life when everything was too much. A jet flew overhead, beacon flashing against the night. Jaime wondered if it was coming or going.

Flight DL1332 is on approach to Palmera International, Khaji intoned.

“Huh. How d’you figure?” Jaime folded his hands behind his head to cushion it.

After a moment the itching growth of the blue beetle’s carapace spread across the backs of his hands and arms. It stopped short of the full thickness armor Khaji was capable of, only forming the tough black underlayer.

They are communicating using radio frequencies. It is not difficult to interpret.

“Cool.”

Would you like to listen?

Jaime sighed. “Sure.”

Static faded into Jaime’s ears, interrupted regularly by steady trailing voices. It was calming. Like listening to another language, even though the pilots and controllers were still speaking English.

#my writing #the doc title is Operation pimp my ride #Operation pimp my ride #Jaime: if I ignore it everything will be fine #Khaji: I am helping and also doing a good job #but srs plz reply or reblog or ask me ideas for this kinda thing #blue beetle #blue beetle movie #blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes #khaji da

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skzkiof · 5 months

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find me;

ivantill, 4.1k, inspired by this post by @ivanttakethis Ivan returns - alive - after round 6 despite all odds but something is different about him. Wrong. Till is on his own to figure out what happened and how to fix it.

Till didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling – that wasn’t quite true; he had an idea. He was numb. He thought he’d been numb, before, but after watching Ivan die… now he knew what true numbness felt like.

He might not have expressed it enough, looking back. Just how much he appreciated having Ivan around. Maybe, he hadn’t even known yet how terribly empty this place would feel without him.

And now he would never get to tell him. He would never even get to talk to him again.

It was over, and frankly Till was too tired to keep fighting. It didn’t matter. His next opponent was Luka and he wasn’t naive enough to think he could win.

Strangely, he felt an odd sense of calm alongside the numbness. He was ready to go. He was ready to see if the aliens were truthful about this one thing, at least. Was there much of anything after death or just eternal darkness?

Nothingness?

Maybe that really would be better. To feel nothing. Be nothing.

Till heard a familiar bell; it was dinnertime. He curled up tighter, hugging his knees and closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he was finally jostled awake. He blinked, once, twice, eyes having a hard time adjusting to the brightness of day.

When he lifted his head, he was met with the face of a girl about his age, dark hair and dark eyes. Unassuming. He was pretty sure he’d seen her around once or twice. They’d never talked.

“I thought you might, um.” She was wringing her hands nervously. Till shouldn’t care. He had given up caring about anything, especially whatever she was struggling to tell him.

He sniffed. “If you have nothing to say, please go away.” He just wanted to go back to sleep. Sleeping was the only time he didn’t feel completely hopeless. At least in his dreams, he wasn’t alone.

“I know we haven’t talked much or anything,” she continued, speaking just a little too fast, “but I thought you might want to see this. You, um. You were close to him, right?”

She didn’t say his name. She didn’t need to.

Till didn’t even bother answering. He just blankly stared at her. Apparently, that was answer enough.

“You really need come see this,” she said again, this time with more urgency.

Till frowned. He should just ignore her. He didn’t want to entertain whatever game she was playing.

“I’m serious,” she was fidgeting again. “Please.”

He could’ve ignored her, but he didn’t. Even now, he supposed his curiosity had a way of getting the better of him. Standing up, he winced when his back cracked and his knees popped.

She smartly didn’t say anything and just led the way. Till followed slowly. It was only when she stopped abruptly that he finally looked up, barely avoiding running into her.

“Hey,” he barked. “Watch it!”

She stepped to the side, opening her mouth, probably to retort, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears.

There, in the middle of a small crowd, was Ivan.

He didn’t even know what to focus on first – his hair, brushed back with a small clip on the side to keep it out of his face. His clothes, pure white and pristine. The smile on his face, warm and sweet.

But none of that mattered, really. Nothing mattered but the fact Ivan was here.

Ivan was alive.

Till didn’t even wait to see if the girl had anything else to say; he rushed past her and joined the crowd, pushing people out of the way. Some of them glared at him, some yelled, but he didn’t care.

He needed to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He needed to know Ivan was real.

When he finally reached the center of the crowd, he let out a shaky breath and just stared. Ivan was really there, standing right in front of him with a confused tilt of his head and an unnervingly polite smile.

Then Ivan opened his mouth and asked possibly the dumbest question he could:

“Are you okay?”

Till felt anger rush to the forefront of his many conflicting emotions, red hot and burning. “Am I okay?” he repeated in disbelief, and suddenly grabbed the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Ivan blinked, but didn’t move to stop him. “You seriously think you can do all that and then just ask me if I’m okay?”

Ivan stared back at him with a familiar blankness before suddenly he was smiling, soft and kind, “I’m sorry,” he said, and Till couldn’t remember ever hearing him apologize, before. “I don’t know what I did but I assure you I didn’t meant to upset you.”

He reached up and gently touched Till’s hands, still clutching his collar.

“If you would let go, maybe we can go somewhere private and talk.”

Till blinked, once, twice, before suddenly letting go like he’d been burned, his hands curling into fists at his sides “You don’t know what you did?” he repeated, slowly, icily. “Is this some kind of sick joke to you?”

His heart was thumping in his chest too fast, too hard. He felt like he was struggling to breathe.

“I really don’t,” Ivan replied softly. It was unnerving, hearing him talk like that. “But I’m assuming I did something to hurt you, and if I did, I really am sorry.”

Till bristled, fists tightening. He could feel something wet in both palms of his hands; blood, maybe, from where his nails were digging too deep.

“You really don’t remember?” he asked, terrified of the answer.

Ivan smiled again; it was too sweet. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Okay.” Till swallowed, forced his hands to relax at his sides. “Okay.”

Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned and ran.

For a while, he isolated himself and just tried to figure out what had happened. Maybe some kind of head trauma? That would’ve explained the memory loss, maybe, but Ivan was acting like a completely different person.

Before he had seen Ivan again - before he had gotten confirmation he was still alive - he had gone over all the things he wanted to say to him, good and bad.

Now he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. He avoided even crossing paths with Ivan for the first few days but then he realized something:

Ivan was avoiding him too. Not on purpose, it seemed, but somehow that realization was even more terrifying.

He used to do anything to get his attention - steal his things just to return them, start trivial fights, ask him to teach him about music (he never paid attention). Now he barely looked in his direction most days, too distracted with the handful of other contestants who were seemingly glued to his side.

Before, he hadn’t had any friends. Not for a lacking of trying - many people wanted to be friends with Ivan - but he had never even bothered trying to act interested.

Eventually they had stopped trying, of course, but now that had changed. It was like people could smell he was different, and they were right.

To make matters even worse, Till had overheard a few of Ivan’s conversations with some of the contestants. He wasn’t sure if Ivan meant it but when they would flirt, fluttering their eyelashes, pouting a little, Ivan would seem interested, smiling coyly.

That was possibly the most obvious sign something was very, very wrong.

Ivan didn’t do friends - not beyond what championship he had been able to forge with Till and Mizi, possibly Sua (before) - but he certainly hadn’t flirted with others.

He hadn’t even flirted with Till prior to their round, despite seemingly having some kind of feelings for him. Or maybe he had, but in unconventional ways. He certainly hadn’t been obvious about it.

(He wanted to talk to him - the real Ivan - understand what he really felt, but now he couldn’t. The Ivan of now apparently felt nothing for him.)

Could a head trauma do that? Till wasn’t educated in that kind of stuff; some of the others were, the way he was interested in music, but even they hadn’t had many chances to explore it with their limited resources. So when he asked, they simply apologized and said, honestly, “I don’t know. Maybe?”

He was grateful for the honesty but it had brought him no closer to figuring out what was going on, or how to reverse it (if that was even possible. He really hoped it was possible.)

Till finally reached a breaking point after Ivan won round 7.

(Since nobody had expected him to survive, and it was unprecedented, they had decided to add two new contestants to the lineup; one to go up against Till and one to go up against Ivan, extending the season to 9 rounds overall. The finale would make history as - for the first time - three contestants would go up against each other at once. Till really didn’t care about dissecting what that meant for them, in the future.)

Obviously he was glad he had won - he had been watching the broadcast with bated breath - but he had won by singing a new piece. Till felt an odd sense of comfort, hearing his voice again (maybe the only thing that hadn’t changed) but then he had started to pay closer attention to the lyrics.

And it was wrong. All wrong. Since when did Ivan sing of birds flying through clear blue skies, free and fearless? Of requited love, sweet and true?

It might’ve been his voice, but those weren’t his words. Something was wrong. Ivan was here, but he wasn’t.

Then finally Till made a realization. It was a working theory, of course, but at least it was a start.

It started with Till watching Ivan even closer (something he didn’t think was possible). He started to slowly notice other details that were wrong.

Just little things. Things that might not have been noticeable to other people. Like the way Ivan’s laugh was a little off (slightly too high-pitched compared to before). The way his eyes were brighter, now, but somehow lacking life at the same time.

Till realized he reminded him of a doll. Too happy. Too polite. Even Mizi - sweet as she was - hadn’t been nearly as perfect. It was unnerving.

Once - still testing his theory - Till had even spilled his soup on him during dinnertime. Just to see. Ivan had barely spared him a glance, a polite smile. “Don’t worry,” he had said before disappearing to change.

He returned with another white shirt. Laughed with everyone else at a joke that was objectively not funny.

That was when Till was certain he was on the right track. They had done something to him. It wasn’t surprising, in a way. They had experimented on Till many times before, after all, but this was different. This was Ivan; the pride and joy of the season.

It was risky to mess with him, but he supposed if it was that or his death, the aliens had weighed their options and decided this was the better outcome.

And truthfully, it had worked out for them. Ivan had gotten even more support than ever after his latest round; brands were lining up to work with him, he had a new interview being published almost every week.

But Till wouldn’t be so easily satisfied. Even if this Ivan was easier to deal with. Even if he smiled more. Till missed tussling and rolling around in the grass with him. He even missed the times Ivan would steal his things just to return them a few days later.

He missed Ivan, his friend, and possibly something more, one day. He still wasn’t sure; wouldn’t be until they could actually talk about what had happened on that stage. But either way, he would find a way to snap him out of this.

Easier said than done. Now it was hard to even get a moment alone with Ivan, seeing as he was always surrounded by people.

Finally Till did what he had to do (and he wasn’t exactly proud of it): he pretended to be hurt, and Ivan - this new version of him, at least - couldn’t resist the bait. He helped him to his room and stood there, seemingly unsure of what to do next. Till pretended to massage his ankle.

“Thank you,” he said, and a part of him meant it.

Whether or not this was the Ivan he knew, he still didn’t like him looking so lost. It was jarring, compared to the easy confidence he usually carried himself with. Before and after. The confidence had always been the one consistent thing across both versions of him, although it had certainly manifested in different ways.

Ivan smiled then, looking more sure of himself. That smile - bright and full as it was - still didn’t manage to quite reach his eyes. Till knew this was it. He had to take this chance and find out a way to reverse whatever they had done to him, if that was possible.

(It had to be; he didn’t know what he would do if it wasn’t.)

For now he just had to keep him here with him, separated from all the others.

“Can you sit with me for a second?” he asked, and Ivan didn’t even hesitate before joining him on the bed that felt more like a concrete slab with a blanket over it.

He even sat politely, hands together in his lap, back a perfectly straight line. He was still smiling. “Did you need anything else?”

Till hesitated for a moment, mentally scrambling for an excuse to keep him here longer. “My ankle really hurts,” he blurted, “even worse than before.” He paused, biting his lip, still thinking. Then he thought of it, the perfect excuse. “Could you maybe look at it?”

“I’m not sure I’d be able to tell you anything,” he replied despite already moving to the floor. Till watched, heart pounding in his chest, as Ivan gently touched his ankle, lifting his foot a little.

He should’ve prepared a bit more, maybe, because his ankle was perfectly fine. No bruising, no cuts. Still he winced, frowning. “It’s sore,” he said, pointing to a random spot. “Around here.”

Ivan nodded, softly running his fingers over the spot with pursed lips.

Till knew he should’ve been thinking more, formulating a plan. He couldn’t just keep Ivan here forever looking at his ankle, and he was no closer to finding out what the aliens had done (or how to reverse it.)

Until he saw it:

A ring, perfectly discreet, around Ivan’s finger. It wasn’t quite silver but an odd hue that nearly blended into the color of Ivan’s skin. Like he - or someone - hadn’t wanted others to notice it.

Till felt his heart beating a little faster. There was no way, right? Surely it couldn’t have been that easy. All these weeks - all this pain - had been caused by a ring?

“Your finger,” he said, voice thick. He hoped Ivan wouldn’t notice; he didn’t, seemingly, still focused on Till’s ankle. “Where did you get that ring?”

Now Ivan looked up. For a long moment he just stared before finally he blinked, once, glancing down at the ring around his finger. “It was a gift.”

Till nodded slowly. “From who?”

“I - ” Ivan stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he idly spun the ring around his finger. “I don’t quite remember, it seems.”

Till knew this was it. He was onto something. He slid off the bed to join Ivan on the floor; Ivan gasped, just a quick breath, gesturing at his ankle with eyes full of concern. Till didn’t know if it was real - his concern. He didn’t know what was real anymore but in this moment he liked to believe it was, as unfounded as it was.

“I’m okay,” he assured him. “I just, can I - ” How did he ask for this, he wasn’t really sure. Finally he gave up and just grabbed Ivan’s hand.

Ivan let him, even as his eyebrows furrowed again, watching as Till gently turned his hand in a few different directions. It was a simple ring, no stone or decorations. It was loose enough for Ivan to spin it around his finger with ease, but too tight to fall off by any accident.

“Do you mind…?” he asked as his fingertips brushed the ring. Surely it wouldn’t be so easy, but it was still worth a try.

Ivan blinked; there was something lost in his gaze, almost like he wasn’t quite seeing. Then suddenly he was pushing Till back with enough force he yelped as his back hit the edge of his bed.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, icily, as he stood and turned toward the door.

It was all wrong. The Ivan that had been, here, for the last few weeks would’ve never reacted like that. So aggressive and cold. That was when Till knew there was no other option: that ring had to go. Whatever was going on, it was clear the aliens had put in some kind of safety measure to keep Ivan from letting anyone take it off.

Whether or not it would magically fix everything was unimportant. It was a start, at least. Till scrambled back to his feet and grabbed Ivan by the arm, yanking as hard as he could. Ivan stumbled, for just a second, but it was enough for Till to get the upper hand he needed.

He spun them around and pushed Ivan onto his bed; he fell with a huff. Before he could fully recover, Till was on top of him, pinning his arms down by his sides. Ivan had always been stronger than him but thankfully with the element of surprise and whatever adrenaline was coursing through his veins it seemed he had managed to subdue him.

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked; his voice no longer had that icy coolness to it, but he was obviously still not happy.

Till squeezed his wrists, hard. “I know you don’t remember me or - or what happened,” flashes of that night on the stage, painful and sharp, played through his mind, “but I know you cared about me and I don’t know if you knew at the time how much I cared about you too.”

Ivan just stared up at him, unblinking. Till took a shaky breath.

“I wish I had let you known, before that night.” His eyes burned but he forced the urge to cry back, swallowing thickly. He needed to focus right now. “Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Maybe we could’ve found another way. You had always been the smartest out of any of us. If anyone could’ve done it, it was you.”

Ivan finally blinked, his mouth pressing together into a thin line. Till couldn’t spend too long wondering if any of this was getting through to him. He just had to keep talking.

“Instead you felt like the only way to save me was through sacrificing yourself, and - ” It was too late; his eyes watered, blurring his vision just a little. “I was so mad at you, at first. I was so angry I was sick. You - ” Till paused, shaking his head, hard. “You had no right to do that. To decide for me what I needed.”

He paused, took another shaky breath. Ivan still didn’t say anything.

“I missed you so much, Ivan,” his voice wavered with each word. “I thought I was never going to see you again and I was so numb. I realized I cared about you, more than I ever realized and - and you weren’t even here for me when I needed you the most.” He sniffed, squeezing his wrists even tighter. “You selfish asshole.”

Finally Ivan opened his mouth to say something. His eyes looked shiny, glistening. Till didn’t even bother waiting to see what he had to say; he surged down and slammed their lips together so hard their teeth clanked together, sending a jolt of pain through his jaw.

Ivan made a small noise in the back of his throat. Surprise, maybe. Till used the moment to let go of his wrist and feel for the ring; as soon as he found it, he yanked it off without hesitation and threw it across the room. He heard the distant clattering and then Ivan was kissing him back with fervor, taking his face in his hands.

Till felt something warm in his chest - hope - as he shifted, deepening the kiss. He was almost afraid to stop, afraid that he’d been wrong and nothing would be changed. Afraid he was kissing a stranger, not the Ivan he knew and desperately needed back.

But finally he had no choice; he pulled back and stared down at Ivan, eyes half-lidded, mouth wet and swollen from the aggressive kissing.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please say something.”

Ivan blinked, some clarity seeming to return to his eyes. His tongue poked out, licking at the corner of his mouth where there was just the smallest spot of blood, probably Till’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and for a moment Till felt the world stop. He had failed. But then Ivan’s hands were at his sides, holding on gently. “I never even considered how you would feel.”

Till sniffed, waited. Didn’t want to get his hopes up too much.

“I can’t even lie and say I thought you wouldn’t care.” Ivan smiled, a small thing. It was nothing like the fake smiles he’d been giving for weeks now. “Because you’re you, and you care more than you let on.”

He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Ivan smoothed a hand down his back, trying to calm him.

“But one of us had to die up there, didn’t they?” Ivan’s hand stopped, low on his back. He let out a soft sigh. “And it couldn’t be you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat, almost too big to breathe. “You kissed me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a quiet acknowledgment. “You asshole, you kissed me and then left me here to try and pick up all the pieces by myself.”

He wasn’t really angry.

“And you just kissed me,” Ivan said, slowly. “Good way to distract me, hm?”

Till couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let things go unsaid between them, not after everything. What if something happened again? What if this was his only chance?

“I did use it as a distraction,” he admitted, but then, “I’d been thinking about it for a while.”

Ivan’s hand twitched against his back. “You had this plan for that long?”

“No,” Till answered truthfully before leaning down a little; their noses were only a couple inches from touching. “You should’ve told me, Ivan. Given me a chance to decide what I really wanted.”

Ivan stared back at him, unwavering. “You wouldn’t have chosen me,” he said with a confidence that sent a pang through Till’s chest, and maybe he would’ve been right, once upon a time, but things were so different now.

They could never go back and change the past, as much as Till wanted to, but the least he could do was be honest with himself moving forward.

“Maybe not back then,” he admitted, because he wasn’t fond of lying and it felt important to be honest here. “But I’m not the person I was back then, am I?”

Ivan gazed up at him with an intensity that made him shiver. “No,” he agreed. “I suppose you aren’t. Because you never would’ve gone through this much trouble for me, before.”

“I always cared about you, Ivan,” he replied, softening his voice, needing him to hear it. “I think I just didn’t know how much.”

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till didn’t know what he was going to say, but that was okay. He wouldn’t push it. They had a lot to figure out over the next few hours - like how they were going to hide Ivan breaking through whatever the aliens had done to him, or if they even could hide it because Till didn’t want to risk putting the ring back on, or even where they stood as friends or more - but for now none of that mattered.

Ivan was back, he was here with him, gazing up at him like he used to, when he used to think Till was never looking (and he wasn’t, most of the time, but not all the time.) And Till knew he would do anything to ensure he never left him again.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #ivantill fic #alnst till #alnst ivan #mywriting #thank u op for giving me permission to use this idea #bc this is my fav ivantill fic i've written yet

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rukbat3 · 2 months

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Babylon 5 Rewatch - A Voice in the Wilderness (Part 2)

This is a post I originally wrote several years ago for Mark Oshiro’s Mark Watches blog. I don’t really plan to edit them before posting, so there may be some references that don’t make sense. If you see words that look like gibberish, they are actually rot13, which was our way of discussing spoilers. There are plugins you can install to decode the text (Cryptext is the one I use), or you can copy/paste to rot13.com, or just ignore it.

Overall, I’d rate this two-parter as being fine. Nothing really stands out as exceptional for me (except the B5 Mantra in part 1), but there is nothing I particularly dislike either. I don’t mind watching it, which is good because it sets up certain things down the road, but there are definitely better episodes. Vg'f nyfb uneq gb nibvq pbzcnevat vg gb gur frevrf'f bgure gjb-cnegre, gb gurfr rcvfbqrf' qrgevzrag.

Now that I can talk about the main plots, I find that I don’t really have much to say. I find Captain Pierce irritating, but then again, you’re supposed to. One of the most annoying things about him is the fact that it’s actually not that bad of an idea to have a warship as backup in this situation, as we can see once the alien ship shows up, but Captain Pierce is entirely the wrong person for the job. In fact, he’s so much the opposite of the kind of person you’d want on your side in a situation like this one that he’s almost a caricature.

Ng svefg tynapr, V sbhaq Pncgnva Cvrepr pbzcyrgryl haoryvrinoyr va uvf vzcrevnyvfgvp nggvghqrf naq pbzcyrgr ershfny gb yvfgra gb nalguvat Fvapynve unq gb fnl. Ohg va uvaqfvtug, vg orpbzrf pbzcyrgryl haqrefgnaqnoyr gung guvf vf rknpgyl gur xvaq bs crefba gur Bssvpr bs Cynargnel Frphevgl jbhyq fraq gb gnxr punetr bs gur fvghngvba, naq vg'f npghnyyl nabgure fhogyr vaqvpngvba bs gur qvivfvbaf ortvaavat gb fubj va RneguTbi. V fgvyy guvax Cvrepr uvzfrys vf n yvggyr gbb bire-gur-gbc, gubhtu.

We find out in this episode (or at least, Draal guesses) that the reason Varn appeared to Londo, as well as to him and Sinclair, is because the three of them are most familiar with the third principle of sentient life—its capacity for self-sacrifice. I can definitely see this applying to Draal and Sinclair, but Londo? What do you guys think? Does this characteristic apply to him?

In the same scene, Delenn warns Londo seriously, “I don’t think you fully understand what Draal is asking of you.” Londo replies, “One of us will not return, yes?” This scene is trying to be super dramatic, but come on. Draal is clearly the redshirt in this situation. Not only is he the only one of the three not in the main cast, but he’s even come to the station already in the process of letting go of his old life. Attempt at creating tension: unsuccessful.

I suppose I should talk a little bit about Garibaldi’s story in this episode. It’s interesting that early on in part 1, there is a scene which really emphasizes Garibaldi’s interest in Talia (in a weird stalkery way), before dropping the subject entirely for Garibaldi to focus on this old relationship. I do like that when he asks Talia for help, there is some acknowledgement of the awkwardness of the situation and that he is completely professional and polite. This is the Garibaldi I like, and I suppose we’ll have to wait and see what effect, if any, this little interlude will have on his behavior towards Talia.

[whole series] Sbe gubfr bs hf jub unir frra gur fubj orsber, jr xabj gung Yvfr vf raqtnzr sbe Tnevonyqv, naq guhf vg vf sha gb frr ure urer va jung frrzf irel zhpu yvxr n fvatyr-rcvfbqr thrfg ebyr, gurer bayl gb svyy va Tnevonyqv'f onpxfgbel n yvggyr zber. Naq lrg, fur nccrnef va synfuonpx va gur irel arkg rcvfbqr, cbffvoyl vaqvpngvat gung fur'f zber vzcbegnag guna jr zvtug unir gubhtug. Vg znxrf zr jbaqre jung jbhyq unir unccrarq vs Gnyvn unq arire yrsg gur fubj. Jnf gur cyna nyjnlf sbe uvz gb raq hc jvgu Yvfr, be vf guvf fbzrguvat ryfr gung unq gb punatr zvq-fgernz? V'ir arire urneq bs WZF fcrnxvat nobhg guvf. Qbrf nalbar ryfr xabj? Be unir n thrff?

One more thing about this subplot: Garibaldi finally manages to contact Lise, and she starts to try and tell him something, but he interrupts her because he just has to get his confession of love out before he loses his nerve. Oh, Garibaldi! Don’t you realize you’re in a work of fiction, and in a work of fiction nothing good can come of interrupting someone who is trying to tell you something? You could have been saved the embarrassment if only you had recognized the trope!

[whole series] Ybaqb, va nterrvat gb uryc Qryraa, Qenny, naq Inea trg qbja gb gur cynarg, gryyf gurz, "V fjber gung V jbhyq qvr ba zl srrg qbvat fbzrguvat aboyr naq oenir naq shgvyr." BZT nggnpx bs gur Ybaqb srryf! Guvf vf nyzbfg rknpgyl ubj ur qbrf tb bhg—rkprcg gung jung ur qbrf vf abg shgvyr ng nyy.

Favorite scene: This episode has a few great lines scattered here and there, but not really any extended scenes that captivate me. If I can be permitted to link two short scenes across a commercial break, I’d pick Londo piloting the shuttle. He’s so clearly having a blast, but, whoops! he’s a little out of practice. Plus, there’s another great blooper involving this scene. Skip to 7:05 in the video below.

youtube

#babylon 5 rewatch #b5 rewatch #babylon 5 #b5 #a voice in the wilderness #Youtube

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miminmimikyu · 3 months

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Episode 7-8: so, one day after drinking that coffee + espresso abomination Dal thinks diving into a Borg transwarp conduit to save travel time is a good idea. And later starts admitting that he has a tendency to forget about everything else when there’s an important mission to focus on. Who does that remind me of?

So the death racing episode that disabled Zero is simultaneously a breather episode lmao

Of course the Kazon Maje wasn’t the big bad in this episode, that would ask for some unprecedented competence from them :’D love how so far they’ve been relegated to “child abductors for a despotic slaver” and now “doing kidnapping for a rogue ai that’s channeling world’s worst tutor”. Not even that really, this Maje pretty much is forced into an “NPC who makes you do a racing sidequest on pain of death” role.

Ohh I really love the personality swaps in the holograms! The voice acting is so good! Brett Gray’s version of Zero was so spot I had to go back a bit just to listen if it wasn’t actually Angus Imrie imitating Brett Gray’s voice @_@ Same for Angus Imrie’s Dal!! Rylee Alazraqui’s Jankom shouting at the Doc and Jason Mantzoukas’ Rok Takh being so sweet and innocent are so funny! Also, taking the Gwyn hologram out is such a convenient way to prevent Murf’s personality from talking

only just realising the Maj’el - Majel Barett name connection!!

Ovidia IV is so pretty and the designs of the corporeal non-corporeal aliens are so cool but it’s a trap it’s a trap it’s a trap, it’s giving me Star Trek TOS vibes of “Faustian bargain aliens” or “planet with a death ritual masquerading as a incredible party”.

After watching the whole episode, setting aside the scenes on Voyager-A, episode 8 really really felt so much like a TOS episode with a modern twist to me! It had the uncanny idyllic planet, the race of telepaths enthralled by their senses, the weird euphoric call to death, culty death festival, the inability to leave once you’ve made The Choice.. but then it has the emotional arc you see in NuTrek and also includes a beautiful, thrilling scene flying on top of the Nazamon (very Discovery). And obviously without the gruesome deaths and madness that would have accompanied a TOS episode. (Ok maybe TOS deaths aren’t that gruesome compared to Disco/Pic//SNw but when I was 9-10 and watching TOS repeats with my dad on Sunday afternoons against my will it was terrifying so that’s what in my brain now). And despite the weird vibes they weren’t actually bad people, just dangerously secretive.

Zero’s arc is also so interesting. Their desire to obtain corporeal body is such a contrast from S1 Zero, who waxed lyrical about life with other Medusans, how they miss it and how it’s like nothing the others can imagine. It figures that now they’re liberated from being a living torture device and have had time to spend so much time enjoying freedom with their corporeal friends, they are able to put into words something might be missing. The joy on their face and in their voice after the transfiguration was so sweet! Also I like these shots through Zero’s cracked visor

I think it’s also an interesting juxtaposition that the previous episode, which ended in Zero performing a self-sacrificial, disabling manoeuvre, started with the gang diving into a Borg transwarp conduit and Zero voicing discomfort (fear) at that. Zero did stop talking less about their Medusan physiology post-Borg encounter (also after injuring Gwyn?) iirc. There was that fear of hurting others just by being Medusan. But this episode talks about fear being an essential aspect of life (ok. corporeal life i guess). Also interesting that Prodigy is framing the corporeal/non-corporeal thing as a binary. I hope it's going to delve a little deeper into that and go a little more complex. I can't wait to see if Zero’s new body lasts and what its possible deterioration will mean for Zero and their feelings about living as a Medusan among humanoids.

Another thing that I like about this episode is that the gang only cares that Zero was properly informed about what choice they were making and that they were safe during the process. They are sure that Zero knows what’s best for Zero.

Poor Gwyn can't catch a break, even her hologram is traumatised now.

Can’t believe how strong this first half of the season is already. If season 1 is anything to go by it’s going to be a hell of a two parter for the midseason finale!!!!!

(I’m still in doubt about the Entity being a time-displaced Chakotay, because in the second message it called Janeway “Janeway” and not “Kathryn” or “Captain” or “Admiral”. Even if he was trying to hide his identity for timey wimey reasons I can’t imagine he’d call her just Janeway and not “vice admiral Kathryn Janeway” or some other more businesslike title.)

Oh no these posts are getting so long OTL

#star trek prodigy #prodigy spoilers #star trek prodigy spoilers #prodigy s02e07 spoilers #prodigy s02e08 spoilers #mmnmmq.txt

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antianakin · 6 months

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So this post has been floating around my brain for a bit https://www.tumblr.com/coupleofdays/746467882552180736/in-the-republic-commando-books-author-karen?source=share

where op mentions force induced HRT. What are your thoughts on the idea? Do you think the jedi even considered bio sex as important considering their luminous beings who don't really value crude matter as much? Granted, Star Wars doesn't really handle gender issues that well, but the core of jedi beliefs seems to be firmly based on ideas that are very pro-lgbtq and anti-discrimination. Sorry if this is out of your usual area of expertise, but I figured you know a lot more jedi lore to confirm if it's accurate

I wouldn't consider myself a massive expert in Jedi lore or lore about the Force, but Karen Traviss's books are pretty non-canon at this point, so we have to start from there.

Force healing is something of a controversial topic as some people feel like it makes a lot of sense for them to be able to do it given what ELSE they can do and other people feel like it makes the narrative a little nonsensical to introduce the concept of healing with the Force when we never see Jedi in Lucas's canon being able to utilize that skill even when it would be pretty helpful to do so. Obviously the Sequels chose to bring it in, but they were able to sort-of give the caveat that these two people were the ONLY ONES who could do it because they had a dyad which gave them access to additional power for healing or something like that. The Mandalorian then also tossed it in where it was used in a more GENERAL sense, so at this point you can argue that it's canon in Disney's canon, and more specifically it's canon to the Mandoverse canon. But it was not and has never been a part of Lucas's canon.

As for what the Jedi would've actually thought about things like being transgender, I firmly believe the Jedi were very open-minded about all of those kinds of things. The Jedi are the most diverse organization in the entirety of Star Wars, bar none, and like you mentioned, they have a focus on who a person is beyond "that crude matter" of the physical body. Yoda says something similar to the clones in episode 1 of TCW where he tells them your eyes can deceive you and that, regardless of what they look like, they are each different in the Force. We see the Jedi consistently respect the clones as individuals throughout TCW, too, indicating a respect for the clones' personhood that goes beyond just what their body looks like. We also know from TCW that the Jedi encouraged the clones' "independence" and expressing their individuality, which we see includes things like different hair cuts and hair colors, different painted designs on their armor, tattoos, etc. Among their own members, we see plenty of differences in personal expression among the Jedi, too, from hair styles to clothes to tattoos. The Jedi are demonstrated within higher canon to be very accepting of how people choose to identify themselves and don't see the physical body as the primary defining trait for a person's identity.

I also honestly find the concept of transphobia and homophobia in the GFFA a little ridiculous given how normal it is to be interacting with multiple different alien species, some of which aren't even really humanoid at all. So while I imagine the Jedi themselves would be quite open-minded about all of this, I tend to headcanon the GFFA as sort-of free of transphobia and homophobia just in general. There's never any indication that it exists in higher canon, which is primarily due to a lack of any representation in higher canon and straight being the default, but there's no indication that Vel and Cinta are treated differently or have to hide their relationship specifically due to homophobia.

#star wars #jedi

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crowbawt · 9 months

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I really should be sleeping but my anxiety so instead here's a very long disjointed post with thoughts about the Man in the Wall after playing Whispers

Spoilers obviously

So the climax of the quest was us somehow holding back Mr. Big Indifference using a memory of love. And it makes sense, because what is the opposite of Indifference towards others? Caring about them. Which is kind of our (Tenno) entire thing. To Take Away Its Pain, etc. There's also Rell, who was also able to hold back Wally, and how he was alienated by his peers and even Marghulis, and the Orokin society who feared and shunned him and didn't treat him as a fellow human being deserves to be treated. As some of the Red Veil blood scrawls in his quest put it, "What is evil, but indifference?" It works quite well, thematically. But Warframe doesn't really restrict itself to a singular, direct approach to invoking its themes. Shit's got layers. Which leads me to believe there may be other layers here, too. And at this point, I'm really not convinced that Wally is so simple as the cosmic idea of Indifference towards others, or even a personification of fear and other 'dark' aspects of the human condition. I mean, I believe he is partially that, we do get that dialogue from Sythel "The first scholar looked into the Void and felt fear, and that fear took form. That's how all this started." Albrecht also refers to himself as the "Father of fears" in his notes somewhere (I forgor) But... Fear is not Indifference. And the Man in the Wall not only shows great interest in many things (like Albrecht, and our Tenno) but he also shows a great deal of emotion. He is described by Duviri citizens as hungry, greedy, jealous. He has feelings, and he has a great deal of them. A being born of fear and indifference towards others doesn't really describe what we've seen of him very well. What Wally has been shown as time and time again is instead: a mirror. Our reflection. So here's the rhetorical question I'd like to ask: If Albrecht gazed into the grand cosmic mirror of existence, and his first reaction was fear, well... it wasn't really the Void he was afraid of, was it?

...Which probably doesn't seem like a point worth all this build up, considering how during the quest, Albrecht's flaw of showing indifference to others (Loid, specifically) is brought up a few times. Albrecht looked into the Void, his Indifference and fear seeped in, and the result was Wally. Makes perfect sense. To which I say, look at the scrollbar to the side of this post because I have soooooo much more bullshit to spew about my thoughts on this. Anyway. I've seen some theorizing that we're probably going to "defeat" the Man in the Wall by forgiving him or otherwise reaching out and showing him love, similar to the way we helped Umbra. Love will triumph over Indifference. And that makes sense and feels very Warframe and I do think that will happen. Buuuuut I don't think it's the only thing that's going to happen. Because if something is destroyed or undone by love, doesn't that... kind of undermine the message of loving an ugly, broken thing? Doesn't having the ultimate villain be some abstract space monster elder god representing pure un-love kind of jar with the very personal, human focus of Warframe's storylines? I don't think this is a Love vs. Indifference Pokemon typing match-up here, I don't think the Love requiem word is going to defeat the Indifference requiem word like a game of rock paper scissors. That would be too trite. Besides, it's not Wally's Indifference, really. It's Albrecht's.

And I've seen a lot, a lot of speculation that Wally "is" Albrecht, just a very derived evil alternate of him, and maybe Albrecht manages to convert himself into Wally as some kind of self-fulfilling quantum time-loop, becoming the reflection that reached out to his own self. It makes a lot of sense, what with the "We End as We Began" thing, and us encountering doppelganger smiley Albrecht in the quest. It works, thematically. This very well could be the answer and it wouldn't be bad storytelling per se.

However, for reasons I am not sure how to articulate at 3 am, I honestly kiiiiiind of hate it. It is not an ending to this that I'd be personally very satisfied with. Again, this doesn't mean it would be bad story-telling, or that other people wouldn't find it satisfying, it's just me and how I like my eldritch horror to be. So I choose to speculate other possibilities up until the point I am proven wrong, and if I am I promise to not be too annoyingly butthurt about it. Promise. Here's my preferred take: I think the "Great Indifference" name for The Man in the Wall is a massive red herring. I think it relates far more meaningfully to what he actually is if you instead interpret it as "undifferentiated."

As in, the Void is a massive roiling quantum soup of all possible outcomes that could exist, but don't--to us. Specifically, us, as in our unique conscious POV, or "personal timeline" or "Chain of Khra" or quantum observer "cone of light" or whatever you want to call it. We are a 3rd dimensional ant stuck walking down a Mobius strip of cause and effect, and the Void is everything that we can not perceive from our tiny tiny window of specific probability variables. We are unable to "change the frame," as Euleria puts it, and I interpret that as "frame of reference."

While a lot of the differences are more... semantic than anything, Eternalism is not actually just Warframe's funny in-universe stand-in name for the Multiple Worlds Interpretation of Reality. This is a whoooooole another post worth of word vomit I won't get into now but Warframe did not come up with Eternalism it's an actual established thing that they're referencing.

The Void is everything, all at once. And if something is everything, in a way it is also... nothing. No contrast, no ups and downs, no loss, no birth, no death, no questions, and no mysteries to ponder. Joy is the same as sorrow, alive is the same as dead, "change" as a broad concept is impossible. If there is an opposite of human consciousness, of being alive and having lived, that's the closest thing I can think of.

There's a reason why the Void is shown in stark black and white until we put color into it... and in his original logs, Albrecht speaks of "scintillating vapor pouring out of my very skull." Human consciousness, our "light," (and the meaning of Albrecht's name, and the significance of us accidentally offering to let Wally "take our light" in the New War, etc) interacting with and reacting with the raw potential of the Void. It makes sense with the Wall being a bleak brutalist expanse of unmoving bone and dust, too. That could Wally's original, natural state: a solid block of grey, meaningless everything. It would explain his jealousy of us, why he takes our appearance, echoes aspects of our personalities, uses our voices, picks at our memories and experiences. It's why he's fascinated with us. It is the one thing he isn't, the one thing he can not have. Or--at least, couldn't have, before Albrecht's intrusion. This is a side-note, but I find it very interesting that Wally's missing finger seems to have limited him in some way, that now he's constrained by the Chains of Khra, implying that before Albrecht, he was not. Now I'm going to rewind waaay back to the topic of Wally being Albrecht's fear made manifest, and us defeating Wally by showing him love, not violence. Because... I don't think our love is enough to fix things on its own. It isn't us who needs to show him love and understanding. I think it has to be Albrecht.

The syndicate's plotline exploring a group of animals who had consciousness forced upon them, suddenly and violently and without consent, the difficulties they face grappling with it--I think that might echo the origin of the Man in the Wall. Consciousness being forced on not an animal, but the Void. You know the quote, "We are the Universe learning about itself?" Maybe in this case, the universe had a very shitty teacher.

And imagine this consciousness being thrust into the Void, taking form within it as an out-of-control chemical reaction, how might it attempt to communicate with Albrecht, with the first 'other' it ever encountered? Perhaps mirroring his form, speaking in his voice, using an endearing and personal term from his childhood: "Little Bengel?" What if, for those brief seconds, The Man in the Wall was not actively malicious? What if he was reaching towards Albrecht not seeking to trap him in a predatory "deal," but out of a sincere desire for connection? How would if feel then, to have your outstretched hand met with fear, disgust--a rejection so violent that your very fingers are severed by him slamming shut the door, an injury that leaves you weakened. A missing part of yourself, and nothing on your side of the wall to fill that hole with. Well it would make you a little bit bitter, I assume. And if those fingers are then used to perform miracles of science, to serve as the foundation for the triumph of an entire empire... you might feel a bit like you're owed. That bitterness may be compounded by the hypocrisy of it all, because all that you showed Albrecht was his own reflection. You might start to fixate on that hypocrisy, on those human flaws, on the parts of him that he didn't want to see. The reflection that he ran from, but further warped to emphasize what he tries to ignore. His shadow self. And so you haunt him with his shadow, because you want him to be forced to see. To acknowledge those parts of him he wishes he wasn't, but you're everything: you know. You won't let him ignore you, to deny you. You are now a jealous, bitter thing. A hungry ghost. You shove these flaws and bits of self-hatred back in his face because you want to make him look at them. To look in the mirror. ....To look at you. To acknowledge you exist. To see you as a thinking, feeling being. And I do think our Tenno are capable of this. To see the Man in the Wall not as "The Other," but as Another. The opposite of Indifference. I think that will be an important part of our story. But our story is not all of the story. It was not just any memory of love that drove back the Indifference, it was Albrecht's love. Unfortunately, I don't think Albrecht as we know him is capable of this, at least not as he is. He speaks of Wally as a malicious force, a cosmic evil that must be fought and only he is brilliant enough to figure out how. Even now, he refers to his reflection only with terms of disgust and shame. For all his monologues about guilt and his grand designs of martyrdom... he still thinks only in terms of himself. He thinks he understands his own guilt, and Wally delights in demonstrating all the ways that he does not. "If I must be a demon, may I be an honest one." That statement is, itself, dishonest. Albrecht is not a demon. He is human.

And that's what he's so deeply, violently afraid of admitting, the fear the entire Orokin civilization built itself on top of as foundation. I believe that is the fear that manifested in The Man in the Wall. And THAT is the kind of cosmic horror I want to see, while also feeling very Warframe. Crossing my fingers we get something closer to this and not just Albrecht accidentally (or purposely?) becoming an evil quantum demon. There's actually like. A whole other section to this I was going to yammer on about but it's now 4:30 AM and whooopppsssssssss

#well having something to focus on does help anxiety brain so #wild and presumptuous speculation that probably only seems clever to me because of sleep deprivation #giant text wall. man in the text... wall. sorry #sorry for all of this #warframe spoilers #[the man in the wall]#[loreframe predictions]

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thegroduschronicles · 8 months

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uuuuuh yes! I'm gonna toss some X-Naut headcanons out into the void since I'd like to start posting more yes hello

So! There’s been a decent amount of speculation about what the X-Nauts are/aren’t and the HCs I've seen out there vary wildly - ranging anywhere from them being regular, ordinary dudes in costumes to aliens. My personal HC is that they originated as a secret society many, many years ago and are made up of shamans that were born bereft of magic.

Shamans have been confirmed to be born with varying levels of magical ability. Some have extraordinary amounts of innate talent (ex. The Tribe of Darkness) and historically stopped mixing with others in order to keep their bloodline pure and their magical ability potent. The X-Nauts are on the opposite end of the spectrum - born with little to no casting ability, I HC that the founder started a secret organization for others like him, intended for those who couldn’t participate in ordinary shaman society. These shamans specifically worshipped only Skolar and spent their time researching and developing scientific advancements that would allow them to make up for their deficiencies.

After a time, the original X-Nauts decided to separate entirely from the shamans and turned their focus towards reaching the stars on their own terms. They were considered rather heretical. I have another HC that the shamans were once a lot more condensed, but that they eventually developed into different sects over time and spread out across the land (including the PM64/TTYD shamans, the SMRPG shaman merchants, Valentina’s shaman + birdy bodyguards, the Ancients). This is an extension of that idea.

I HC that the X-Nauts were able to successfully leave the planet and spent many, many years in space, but have recently returned and are looking to establish themselves after having completely decimated the climate of their new planet via unchecked technological growth and rampant abuse of their resources. Their round body shape is the result of spending generations living in a cold, harsh environment- their uniforms are specifically developed to protect them from the snow and ice. They struggle to adjust to hotter weather.

Grodus would be the latest in a line of rulers descended from the original founder. Only the founding family is given the privilege of using “magic”. The leader’s traditional priest-like garb is a remnant of their origins, though they no longer have a strong sense of spirituality in practice.

I also HC that while the X-Nauts were able to blend in easily in some respects upon returning, they’re a bit out-of-touch in other ways. Some of the common X-Naut names are rather odd (ex. Crump) and were picked since they’re considered “exotic”. You can find ones with ordinary names like Johnson and then look down the way to find one named something like Peanut.

One extra little detail that I’ve played with is the idea that their scarf-things intentionally resemble facial hair as another remnant of emulating shaman society - maybe they’re unable to grow any as extra insult? not sure that I’m seriously including this as part of the HC but it made me giggle a little

#x-naut #paper mario #hopefully none of this is too silly GHGHSGHHGHG #but erm. yes. i have thoughts sometimes #art go go #paper mario the thousand year door

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decks-writing-blog · 3 months

Text

She's Gone

Summary: Isaac has a talk with Alyx about her mother.

[A/N] Here on Tumblr I saw a post talking about how Alyx and Gordon could potentially trade stories about their time as Kleiner's pupil. Gordon was canonically his student and thus since he has teaching experience it makes sense he might've taken on the responsibility of being a teacher for Alyx as she grew up. It was a fun idea and made me want to write Kleiner and Alyx having some kind of funny school room related interaction, weather I was going to bring it back around to a flash forward of her having shared this story with Gordon, I was going to decide when I got there. But alas, I am cursed with the inability to come up with funny ideas on command. So when I was thinking about it, I came up with this idea instead. It isn't funny in the least but I wrote it anyway because it struck a cord with me.

Content Warning for grief and talk of Azian's death. Since she disappeared, it's entirely possible Alyx didn't immediately know she was dead and thus had be told.

In some ways having only one student was easier than a full college classroom. The 1st grade curriculum was naturally simpler for sure, making the main challenge in teaching it be having to resist the urge to go into the more complex specifics. Having only one pupil to focus on made making sure the ‘whole class’ was following along and understood everything before moving on to the next thing easy.

It was harder in other ways though. The situation with the Combine made everything more difficult. Trying to start and keep a classroom and school schedule as close to normal seeming as possible in hopes of shielding Alyx from the worst of it was uniquely stressful. Nothing in Isaac’s teaching career had prepared him for that. It didn’t help that that was actually a full-time job. But having recently volunteered to be her teacher – though really, Eli taught her plenty too just in a less structured and scheduled manner – encouraged her to ask him questions about it specifically.

“What’s the Combine?” “Why are we moving so often?” “What happened?” “Why?” “How?” “What about [friend, neighbor, or just person she’d known before the Combine invasion]?”

Naturally they couldn’t keep the truth from her even if that had been Eli’s first instinct. This was the world she was growing up in, she had to know everything eventually. But Alyx had turned five a mere week before the resonance cascade. So while Isaac never lied to her, he withheld the grisly details. The Combine were alien invaders from space. [X person from before]’s fate was a mystery, the three of them had had to move a few times already after all, it was hard to keep track of people who probably also fled. They moved so often because they were hiding from the Combine; “Yes, kind of like hide and seek but bigger and more important because they’re bad guys.”

With all this Isaac should’ve expected the question to pop up eventually; it was basically inevitable. And yet somehow it still took him by surprise when at the end of a math lesson – usually her favorite subject but today she’d been distracted – she approached him and… “What about Mommy?”

Isaac flinched, almost dropping the chalk eraser he’d just picked up. Trying to hide it, he erased the board before turning to look down at her. “What about her?” As if he had to ask.

“Where is she? Daddy said she’s gone but didn’t say where she’s gone to and he got sad when I asked so I didn’t ask that and don’t wanna ask again ‘cause it’ll make him sad again, I think. But you know, right?”

The small room they’d set up to be a makeshift classroom suddenly felt even smaller and stuffier than it had before. It wasn’t Isaac’s place to say anything about Azian. If Eli wasn’t ready to talk about her with Alyx then doing so in his stead wouldn’t be right. But at the same time Alyx deserved to know that her mother wasn’t coming back. Eli had probably tried to convey that but five-year-olds, even ones as smart as Alyx, weren’t known for picking up on subtleties. While ‘she’s gone’ would convey to most that the ‘gone’ was permanent, to a small child it would seem the same as saying ‘she’s gone to the grocery store’ just without the detail on where. She still believed she’d potentially she her mother again one day.

He could send her to ask Eli again later at which point he’d know to give a more clear answer. Or he could bring the matter to Eli himself and make it clear that Alyx needed a clearer answer. But it had only been a handful of months since the resonance cascade. The wound of Azian’s loss was still fresh, especially Eli. Mitigating the pain the conversation would cause would surely be kind, right? Eli was busy trying to gather up the Black Mesa survivors after all. Isaac didn’t want to distract him from that by reminding him of his dead wife.

And so with a sigh, Isaac pulled out his desk chair and sat down again. “Sit.” He gestured to the spot across from him. Her being his only pupil and there not being room for much else in most of the places they ended up, most of the time they shared a desk for this ‘school’ thing they were doing.

Alyx obeyed, pulling out the chair and clambering back up into it. As proof of her seriousness she didn’t even spin around in it this time before pulling herself over to the desk.

Isaac waited until she was settled in before explaining anything. Before he could figure out how to begin though, she spoke up instead. “She’s not coming back, is she?” Well, it least it wasn’t a surprise.

“Correct. She’s not coming back.”

“Why not?”

Was it better to be up front and direct with the answer or be gentle with it? … Isaac wasn’t entirely sure how to be gentle with this kind of news, straightforward was probably easiest. “She’s dead.”

Alyx stared at him in silence for a few seconds as her eyes welled with tears. “Like… like when you step on bugs and they die and stop moving and get squished with their insides all outside?”

“Yes.” Wait! Not a good thing to say as when applied to a human, that was a horrifically gory description. Oops. “Sort of anyway.” Gosh, science was much easier to navigate and discuss than personal emotional things like talking about a friend's death to her five year old kid. He should’ve sent her to Eli or insisted they talk about it as a group. “Her death probably wasn’t that bad.” That could be a lie though as they didn’t know how she died. Technically, they didn’t even know for sure that she was dead. But it was likely enough that holding out hope and/or letting Alyx continue to do so wouldn’t be wise or kind.

Alyx was full on sobbing now. Isaac opened he desk’s drawer to pull out a box of tissue – something that was quickly proving to be a rare luxury – before standing and walking around to hand to her. He then put a hand on her shoulder, that’s what helped Eli most of the time. It seemed to calm her a little too so he kept her hand there, shifting it slightly to lightly rub her back. Other than that though, he let her cry. She had a right to cry about this for however long she needed to.

It was several minutes before her sobbing finally started to peter out. Finally, when she was done, she blew her nose and sniffled before before looking back up at him. “I should’ve figured that out before, huh?”

“No, I don’t believe so. A lot’s been happening and changing. It is entirely logical you were too caught up in it all to figure that out. Especially since one wouldn’t want to consider such a thing.” And he and Eli had been trying to keep her distracted and busy.

“Is it the Combine that killed her?”

“Possibly. We’re not sure.”

Alyx nodded as if that was the exact answer she’d expected. “I don’t like them.”

“Me neither. We’re going to fight them though and we’re going to win or at the very least try our best to.” The only thing Eli cared about more than his budding efforts to build a proper resistance against the Combine was Alyx. And when Eli got dead set on something like that, things always got done. Isaac was just here to help and to get done whatever science and study he could while doing so.

“I wanna help.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a great help one day.” They couldn’t exactly pretend that she wouldn’t be part of their resistance efforts once she was older. Every single person mattered when it came to fighting a conquering alien force. “For now though, how about we practice reading until your dad gets home, huh?” Which would hopefully be soon and would hopefully be him returning with the info he’d gone after. No use dwelling on anxiety about what would happen if he didn’t.

Alyx looked up at him and sniffled one last time into a tissue before tossing it into the trashcan and turning the chair so she could slide off it. “Okay.”

#half life #alyx vance #isaac kleiner

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licncourt · 1 year

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begin again COOKED as a post-qotd fix-it (fave fic! <3) but i need to know your thoughts on prince lestat/how you would re-do it in the correct way. to this day i still think LESTAT becoming prince monarch of all the vampires is one of the craziest decisions made during the novels. to me lestat is a prince in the same way that jack skellington was king of halloween (that includes the running away to cause delusional hijinks that ultimately jeapordize everyone)

Aaahhh thank you!! That fic is my child that I birthed so I appreciate it more than you know! It's actually BA's one year finished-iversary next week, my baby's all grown up.

I've talked about that before actually in this post about how I would rewrite the whole series, but I can expand a little here!

Firstly, this could've been two books instead of three. There was nothing going on in there that required three entire novels

Things that have to go entirely: aliens, test tube clone baby Viktor, Atlantis. Sorry, not salvageable

I think rather than the Amel thing, it would have been cool if the sacred core had started corrupting Lestat and altering his behavior as host, maybe changing him gradually into a animalistic, violent folklore-like vampire, making him slowly lose his mind like Mekare, or erasing his sense of self to become a blank host. Then it's a race against the clock and vampire magical biology to save him. This could be the first PL book

Ideally, I think this book should be narrated by Louis and focus a lot on his growth as a character as he finishes his personal. It would bring some happy ending closure to the IWTV version of him without being a jarring change. I also think having his POV for the best of his and Lestat's relationship would be a nice full circle moment from seeing him describe their worst. The idea of Lestat losing himself to the core and them potentially coming together too late would add good drama as well. Maybe this is Louis' follow-up memoir describing how they fixed things

The Rhoshamandes conflict can stay for the second PL and final VC book, but I think it could've been less boring if the drama between him and Lestat had been better fleshed out. They have a lot of similarities that weren't used to their full advantage. It would really highlight Lestat's growth to have him defeat what he could've become

When Lestat reunites with Louis, they would actually have some long, hard conversations about their past, ones that continue throughout the PL trilogy

Hopefully an explanation for why Lestat has made this 180 is included, even if it's just the crushing realization of his own loneliness and longing reaching critical mass after twenty years of who the fuck knows what

The cast is pared down to the strongest written and most interesting characters so the story isn't spread so thin, probably Lestat, Louis, Armand, Gabrielle, Marius, Pandora, and maybe a small handful of new characters with significance in the story. I think Seth, Fareed, Sevraine had the most potential to be good additions to the primary roster if she wanted to add on

Cool characters from the original like trilogy like Maharet and Khayman are expanded on rather than killed offscreen to make room for more Anne Rice NPCs. If we're going to kill someone from the trilogy, please God let it be David Talbot

This goes without saying I think, especially from me, but Louis would be restored to his former glory as a true main character alongside Lestat instead of relegated to lobotomized housewife. There was so much potential for him in an active consort role. We also don't get to see how he got to such a peaceful place at the end of PL, so I would like to see him work through some stuff on the page

I would either cut the Rhoshamandes/Benedict storyline because of how redundant it is with how it mirrors the Marius/Armand dynamic or do something to differentiate it as its own relationship. At the very least, maybe the similarity could be highlighted to become a character beat for Armand

As far as Armand in general, I would make him a much more prominent player. I think he's a great fit for a court setting and could create a lot of intrigue as well as adding coolness factor. I'm always torn about whether I like the reveal of his romantic feelings for Lestat, but in the interest of keeping SOME things intact, I would just play it differently. Primarily, I think he becomes way too agreeable (similar to Louis) in how he submits to and idolizes Lestat, so I would love to see him come into more conflict with Lestat in spite of those feelings. Maybe we can see him make some peace with their history and let go of that intense emotion for something healthier

If we're going to keep the sex injections (IVs, whatever), I think we should do more with it than have Lestat prematurely ejaculate into a random woman. I think there's potential for a very interesting new dynamic with Louis and Lestat. It would be cathartic and maybe an interesting part of their healing process and of becoming a real couple for the first time

That's what I can think of for now, but I might update later!

#btw the lestat jack skellington comparison made me laugh you're so right #louis is so sally coded #answered #vc #the vampire chronicles #interview with the vampire #meta

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