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minecraftbookshelf · 4 months

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In the Age of Icons: Mistakes Are Made

Chapter One: The Day Of

A Marriage of State AU Fic

[AU Masterpost (includes the AO3 link)]

Characters: Jimmy Solidarity, Xornoth, Katherine Elizabeth, Mythical J Sausage

Relationships (for the AU as a whole): Eventual (very slow burn) Flower Husbands, (established) Shadowbeans/Jizzie, (obnoxiously new) Jornoth, Eventual (very far future) Nature Wives

Wordcount: 4214

Rating On AO3: This particular fic is rated T, future installments in the AU may go all the way up to E for graphic violence but most will be between T & M

Chapter POV: Jimmy Solidarity & Xornoth

Summary:

The Codfather weaves his fingertips together so that the slight webbing between his fingers touches. It's the first time in a while he's had both hands away from his shoulder, where at least one has been hovering near his sword hilt almost the entire time, despite Katherine's glares. "It's a marriage treaty, between the royalty of the oppositions, bound in blood and salt, for peace and mutual gain." His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day.

Warnings: A sort of general reminder of the narrative took "Unreliable Narrators"

This AU features multiple arranged marriages across the spectrum of platonic-romantic and the complicated nuances of chosen and arranged.

Any section from Xornoth's POV does have parts that read like very violent and occasionally graphic intrusive thoughts due to the whole "there is a demon living in their head" thing. If that's something you think you might have issues with, please proceed with caution if you choose to proceed at all.

Jimmy spends the majority of his flight to the Overgrown fuming and imagining the many different ways he could kill Sausage. It's cathartic indulgence and if he's busy imagining swarms of axolotls and pufferfish descend on the Mythlandic king in his minds' eye than he isn't worrying about the actual situation and what it could potentially mean for him and the Swamp.

Much. He isn't worrying about it much.

The fact that Sausage had made it past the Swamp border and all the way to Jimmy's house without being seen or stopped is...fine. It's fine.

The wind catches Jimmy's elytra at an odd angle and he dips alarmingly low for a heart-jolting moment; his tail flailing out on instinct in an attempt to steady him in a non-existent current. He catches himself before he actually crashes into the treetops, though he does have to bank hard to the left in a way that pulls the harness sharp against his shoulder. The joint twinges at the strain and he grimaces. He'll probably feel that tomorrow. He's been skipping out on his stretches, in all the chaos of the escalating tensions, and his bad side has been worse than usual. He can feel the tension of the old scar tissue at his elbow and the tightness of the muscle down his neck and shoulder.

Joel will yell at him for that.

On the bright side, maybe he'll go to war with the Mythlands and then he'll be too busy to get yelled at. He thinks Pix would call that 'silver linings.'

The trees thin out and give way to green grass fields dotted with sheep and flowers and Jimmy angles his trajectory downwards. The magic saturating the Border of the Overgrown brushes his scales as he enters and he shudders. It doesn't matter how many times he comes to visit Katherine, every time is just as unsettling. It feels like the time he bit an electric eel as a fry. A tingle and a buzzing that leaves the webbing between his fingers numb and his teeth hurting.

Katherine's house materializes on the horizon, the layers of glamour falling away and Jimmy banks into a spiral to land. He's been airborne for so long that he's barely even damp and, last minute, he decides to land in the water feature instead of on the grass surrounding it. He lands in the fountain with a splash and a sigh, the water closing over his head and offering blessed relief. His gills flare, water flowing freely through his right side and even managing a pass on his left. He allows himself a moment to settle beneath the surface and let the itchy dry feeling of his scales fade, away from the biting cold and thin air of the skyways.

He rolls over and stares at the sky, taking a minute to just exist. It's uncomfortable; his elytra, his trident, and his sword all pressing into his spine, but at least it is calm and quiet.

His view is almost immediately obstructed by a far, far too familiar silhouette tinted red and gold.

Jimmy bolts upright and almost slams his forehead into Sausage's.

He scrambles back and to his feet where he stands, dripping, in the fountain to the backdrop of the displeased gazes of Katherine's door guards and the giggles of the King of Mythland.

How did this go so wrong so fast?

"Hello, Jimmy!"

He manages to clamber out of the fountain without tripping and falling flat on his face at least. He splashes Katherine in the process, where she is hovering off to the side but he can't really be bothered to worry about that. All he can manage to do is stare at Sausage's smirking face.

"Hello, Jimmy!"

Katherine's greeting is much less mocking and Jimmy looks back down to acknowledge it. Way down. Katherine is the shortest emperor and the white tips of her ears barely clear his elbow. She is smiling up at him as if she hasn't invited him to her house only to ambush him with one of his greatest enemies. As if he hadn't trusted that her home was safe. As if he hadn't trusted that she would stand with him.

"What is he doing here?" He jerks his chin at Sausage, who is still giggling like a child. He sees Jimmy looking and grins at him, all teeth.

Behind the mask, Jimmy bares his own teeth and takes some comfort in the knowledge that he has more of them; and they are sharper. He straightens his spine and does his best to stand at his full height instead of curling slightly to the left. His sword and trident clank softly together over his shoulder.

Katherine looks briefly unsure before she sets her expression and gestures at her door. "We should all go inside and talk there. I would like to help negotiate peace between The Swamp and Mythland."

She's using her official voice. Sausage keeps giggling and Jimmy can barely hear it beneath the roar in his ears. He leans down to try and whisper into the faerie queen's ear.

"I really need your alliance right now, Katherine." He hopes his desperation doesn't show in his voice.

She gives him a reproving look that throws him right back to his brief time spent in a classroom. "I'm allied with everyone, Jimmy. You know that."

"He invaded the Swamp," Jimmy hisses, his ear-fins flaring, ignoring the shudder down his spine from her use of his Name, even in part. "He crossed our borders. Again. He's threatened war." He's no longer whispering by the end, standing to his full height, shoulders back, sword hand by his shoulder.

"And according to him, you've threatened it right back!"

It's almost a physical blow, the way the betrayal hits him. He manages to keep from physically staggering back only because Sausage appears beside him and throws an arm over his shoulder. Something the Mythlandic king has to stand on tiptoe to accomplish. It yanks Jimmy uncomfortably sideways and down and his trident almost slips from his back.

"Come on, Jimmy! Let's talk!" Sausage smiles, all teeth like an alligator, lurking on the surface of the water. "We can make peace!"

Jimmy knocks his arm away and straightens, doing his best to loom over the other ruler. His extra foot of height should be more of an advantage than if feels like. He grabs for the hilt of his sword and is only stopped by Katherine, who flies right up into his face to frown at him.

"No weapons!" She shakes her finger right in front of his mask and Jimmy clamps down on the instinctive urge to yank up the Codfather head and bite it. That would be no help to anyone, especially himself. No one takes him seriously as it is. Except maybe Pix. Maybe.

Instead he focuses on glaring at Sausage over Katherine's shoulder. The king of Mythland beams back at him, hands clasped innocently in front of himself (well away from the hilt of his own greatsword), head cocked to the side. The picture of harmless amiability were it not for the malicious sparkle in his eyes. Ohhhhhh how Jimmy would love to feed his organs to Lizzie's axolotls. He flexes his claws before Katherine grabs his arm and tugs him towards her front door, six tiny fingertips digging into his scales above his vambraces. (The embossed leather the only armor he'd worn, he hadn't realized he'd wish for more.)

Sausage trails behind them and as much as Jimmy reminds himself that not even Sausage would have the audacity to attack him in Katherine's house (probably) he can't quite shake the prickling tension from having an enemy at his back. It feels like the first time Lizzie and Joel took him to clear an ancient monument and he'd stalked through the twisty corridors and boxy rooms with the creeping feeling of being stalked in turn.

Sausage slips and almost falls on some of the tacky slime he'd accidentally tracked in and that does help. Even if he does feel bad for messing up Katherine's floor. He can feel the impassively judgmental stare from Katherine's guards, who's features do not change but still somehow radiate disapproval. He knows he probably shouldn't take it personally, most fae don't think highly of outsiders but it still feels personal.

Sausage recovers quickly and shakes out the fur lining of his coat. "Is it just me or does it smell fishy in here, now?"

"Sausage," Katherine looks disapprovingly back over her shoulder. "That's rude."

"Oh," Sausage blinks at them both, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, I didn't realize."

Jimmy wants to stab him so badly, he sets his shoulders and refrains. He can do this. He's technically trained for this, even if the skills are rusty, fallen aside before the more hands on duties that rebuilding the Swamp has required.

"Oh, this one is new!" Sausage immediately changes the subject, pointing at one of the skulls hanging on the wall of the hall. It's some kind of middling-sized land animal...a sheep maybe? with poppies filling the eye sockets and woven in a crown, there are delicate lines of gold painted across the surface of the bleached bone.

Katherine beams, her irritation at the rudeness forgotten (or at least set aside, fae never truly forget breaches of etiquette) "It is! It's a gift from a childhood friend," she looks fondly upon the skull for a moment. "We've been reconnecting lately."

Sausage nods sagely, "It is always good to spend time with your friends."

"It is," Katherine's ears twitch and her wings flutter briefly before she resumes walking. "Which is why we are going to fix this."

She leads them down the hall towards her library, a room so thoroughly warded that Jimmy can feel the magic against his scales when he passes through the door in an echo of the fae-realm boundaries.

It is a cozy room, despite the elegance and delicacy. It makes Jimmy feel out of place and reminds him a little bit of Lizzie's war room, if a better lit and less damp version. Every corner is full of plants and flowers and books and crystals, and blessedly free of guards and staff and other judging eyes. It's just Jimmy and Katherine and Sausage and the Elvenking sitting in the corner.

Jimmy may or may not do a full and proper double take.

Huge white and black wings, glittering obsidian antlers, an incongruous cup of tea on the side table. Apparently this meeting has interrupted the...reading time? of the King of Rivendell. Jimmy grits his teeth at the presence of one more ally for Sausage and turns his attention to the other two rulers instead. He'll worry about the Elvenking if they decide to become a problem.

In retrospect, Xornoth probably should have left as soon as Katherine escorted Sausage and The Codfather into her library, her expression tense and serious despite the cheerful tone to her chatter but in all honesty they were so startled at first that they froze. Now its been just long enough it would be too awkward to get up and leave. And the others are in-between them and the door, which just makes it worse. So they sit in the corner, tome in hand, trying their hardest to pretend they aren't getting a front row seat to the latest incarnation of the Mythland-Swamp dispute, featuring The Codfather's tangible rage and frustration over Katherine's stubborn neutrality.

(Which is understandable, but arguing a fae over their nature is a futile task and The Codfather seems too much a fool to realize it.)

The palpable hostility in the room has Xornoth's feathers fluffing against their will. Katherine is doing her best to mediate but she might as well try to climb a cliff-face in a blizzard. Sausage seems more interested in taunting The Codfather than coming to any kind of agreement and The Codfather himself stubbornly refuses to even consider any kind of negotiations until...a disc is returned?

Meaningless frivolity.

Xornoth isn't quite sure of the intricacies of the Mythland-Swamp conflict, since most of it happened during Rivendell's seclusion and so they don't even have any accounts of it other than what has been acquired in the past few decades. Accounts that are, somewhat understandably, for the most part slanted towards the Mythlandic perspective. (It is Mythland that Xornoth is allied with and it is Mythland that writes things down while The Swamp seems to lean heavily towards oral histories.) They don't think they've heard anything about a disc before, that might be new.

Both Sausage and The Codfather are known for their chaotic natures. If this does escalate to war (as both have threatened multiple times in the past hour) they will both involve their allies. As much fun as it would be to go toe-to-toe with the King of Mezalea in the arena, if Xornoth has to deal with wartime logistics because of these two acting like elflings not yet out of the home, they will just walk off into the mountains and wait for the winter to take them.

Do not pretend such reluctance. I see the truth.

Xornoth turns a page.

"At this point," The Codfather snarls, leaning on the back of the sofa he is standing by, looking inches away from leaping across the library to strangle Sausage (or try to at least) regardless of Katherine's policy on unapproved violence, his speech has been steadily growing more formal as the debate raged on, but also with a lot more insults in a multitude of languages. (Which Sausage had been more than happy to return.) "I don't think I'd trust even a-" he makes a series of humming, clicking syllables that Xornoth recognizes as Oceanic, but does not understand "-from you lot!"

That, of all things, is what grinds the entire conversation to a halt. Even Sausage stops his mocking dance around the edge of the room to look at The Codfather in confusion. "A who now?"

Katherine is frowning in concentration, mouthing words to herself while she tries to translate. "An...in-law treaty?"

"You know," The Codfather waves a hand dismissively. "A Binding Agreement."

At least he's speaking Mythlandic again, a language Xornoth supposedly understands.

"No, we don't know," Katherine still looks confused by also speculative. "Please explain. What kind of binding exactly is this?"

His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day. They've never been able to quite shake the "student voice."

You are still only a student. And you will be so long as you refuse to take what is rightfully ours.

"Oh!" Katherine's face lights up with recognition and she bounces on her toes, wings aflutter. "I read about that! It's an Oceanic thing!"

Oceanic, not Swamp. Interesting.

The Codfather tilts his head to the side, radiating bewilderment despite the mask completely obscuring his features. "Um...yeah? Wait, do land-folk not do those? At all?"

Both Sausage and Katherine shake their head and Katherine expands verbally, talking right over the Codfather's hushed 'oh.'

"Not between empires, not since the Worldspawn Treaty. It's not uncommon for different families within an empire to form alliance through marriage though."

Xornoth wisely stays silent, though they can't quite help but touch the enchanted jewel fastening their cape at the shoulder. Only Katherine notices, but she's the only one of present company who knows what it means anyway.

"Oh," The Codfather seems a bit taken aback. "I thought it was just that it hadn't happened recently, not that you didn't at all."

"No," Sausage looks intrigued. "We don't."

"We could though," Katherine says suddenly, looking ecstatic. "The treaty just rendered those kinds of alliances of limited use, it didn't forbid them. What about a marriage truce between The Wither Rose Alliance and The Swamp!"

All three of them stare at the faerie queen like she's crazy. (At least, Xornoth is assuming that's what The Codfather's emotions are.) Sausage's eyebrows alone are conveying enough skepticism for the whole room. The Codfather's tail swishes uneasily.

Like a fish on a hook.

Sausage latches onto the movement with a smirk. "Aw! Do you not want to marry me, Jimmy?"

"I would rather move to the desert," The Codfather says without hesitation. "Or the Nether."

"Maybe not the two of you," Katherine says, even her spiteful optimism clearly powerless against the reality of what the outcome of that would be. Wise of her. Xornoth doesn't trust them to not kill each other before they make it to the wedding night. If they even made it to the wedding itself. "We are trying to make peace, not break it irreparably. But the Wither Rose Alliance is the largest alliance. Surely something can be arranged. For a...Binding Agreement the two parties have to be of equal or near-equal standing, right?"

"Well yes, but-"

"So," she says triumphantly, cutting The Codfather off before he can even get started. "One of the other emperors?"

There is a moment of silence as they all contemplate, even Sausage looking more focused than usual.

They are going to hurt themselves, trying that hard to utilize what little intelligence they have.

"Fwhip?" Sausage eventually offers, somewhat unsure, but also clearly just trying for a reaction.

And he gets one; a loud, rattly, snarling hiss that, despite usually considering The Codfather's threat level somewhere between "negligible" and "non-existent", Xornoth find themself sitting up straighter and even has Sausage taking a step back, visibly startled. Deep in the corner of their mind that Xornoth does their best to ignore, a shudder of disquiet resonates for a moment before being cut off.

Katherine's eyes are wide and, seemingly without realizing it, she takes to the air slightly, hovering over the floor, set to evade any attacks. Xornoth realizes that their hand is on the hilt of their sword and slowly, so as not to draw attention, they withdraw it back to their book. Their wings stay mantled, primaries brushing against he walls of their alcove.

"Okay, not Fwhip," Katherine says hurriedly, slowly dropping back down to the floor and smoothing her skirt out in a nervous gesture she's had since she was small. Usually she does better at controlling herself. She'd had the unphased exterior trained into her well before Xornoth ever met her and, however amiable and relaxed she likes to appear, they know its always there beneath.

If we pinned her wings to the wall like a butterfly and made her watch, that would phase her.

Xornoth contemplates smashing the side of their head into the wall. Unconsciousness has about a 50/50 chance of bringing peace and quiet with it. Unfortunately, the hangings in this library nook are imported from Rivendell, several layers of thick woolen brocade. It probably wouldn't be a very effective attempt. And would have them looking crazy in front of two allies and a...not quite enemy. (Though if they don't sort this out that will probably be changing very soon.)

Let there be war, one step closer to our full power.

Katherine has moved on. "What about Gem?"

Sausage snorts a laugh but also looks a little terrified at the idea of even suggesting such a thing. Perhaps the wisest he's been all day, based off what Xornoth has gathered about what seems to amount to a neighbors' spat between him and The Codfather. (Albeit a neighbors spat with centuries of animosity behind it and that is now threatening war.)

The Codfather shakes his head a little frantically, the copper-beaded tassels on the side of the mask clinking against the trident slung across his back. "She's scary."

He seems to realize that he said that out loud and quickly scrambles like a fish suffocating on a rock to cover for it. "And, uh, Great Wizard isn't a title with a lot of..." He flounders a bit. "There could be a new Great Wizard tomorrow, if someone beat her. It has to be a more permanent title."

Personally, Xornoth finds the likelihood of anyone replacing Gemini Tay at any point during a mortal lifetime (and possibly longer) very, very unlikely. It takes a lot to outshine bringing the dragons back. But The Codfather is right. And not only is Gem scary, she's also mean. Which most people don't realize because she spends so much time keeping Fwhip and Sausage from getting themselves killed. Xornoth has been to enough Wither Rose meetings to fear her though. She would eat The Codfather alive.

They do also find themself a little bit impressed, they hadn't thought he had that level of awareness of the internal workings o the other kingdoms.

If we gutted him like a fish he'd squeal so nicely.

It's been a while since Xornoth turned a page. They turn a page.

"Pearl can't be that closely tied to any other ruler," Katherine keeps going. "Too many people across the Empires rely on their trade with her and it isn't fair to your people to risk their well-being that way."

Honestly, if it came to war, Xornoth is fairly certain that Pearl would fight to remain neutral. It would destroy her, being unable to help her friends. Rip that golden heart of hers right out of her chest and shred it in the dust, but so many people from all the lands depend on Helianthia's crops and herds to remain fed. And her sense of duty, to her own people and all the others would take precedence over her loyalty to her friends, and that would kill her swifter than any blade.

If the war did not destroy her lands, and her with them, first.

The page in their white-knuckled grip begins to tear on the edge.

Rip them all to pieces, give the farmer the fight she wants.

Rivendell would follow Helianthia, Xornoth acknowledges. They are not as selfless as Pearl. And even if they were, they could not condemn Rivendell to another harsh winter of starvation and death. They would stand to defend her against all comers (and there would be many who came, lured by the resources she guarded) both as a friend and as a political alliance. Rivendell is not back to the point of being able to sustain themselves, not if the winters continue to worsen the way they have been. Loathe as they are to admit it, even inside their own head where no one can hear.

Well, no one but-

Wheat fields burn so easily, all it would take is a single spark in the right place and all of Mythland would be in flames.

Carefully, carefully, Xornoth sets their book down on the table beside them and places their hands in their lap. Katherine will stop allowing them to borrow her books if they start spontaneously combusting them. Hopefully she doesn't notice the slightly singed cover.

"Joey?" Now it is Katherine who's skepticism is betrayed in her voice and Sausage actually snorts a laugh. All three of them look over at Xornoth, though The Codfather quickly looks away again.

Free us of the silly bird.

"Good luck with that," Sausage says, giggling, and waggles his eyebrows at Xornoth. They pretend to not see, giving their full attention to the tapestry on the wall beside them in a vain attempt at pretending that their painfully un-subtle affair is not the most gossiped about topic among the emperors at present.

This is an old one, probably gifted by their grandparents to the House Blossom Lady of the time. The knot-work symbol in the corner is one they are unfamiliar with, not the signature of any artisan from their lifetime.

"And Xornoth is already married," Katherine doesn't acknowledge Sausage's behavior, beyond an annoyed look, which is probably for the best.

The Codfather jerks his head sharply to the side, "and that's all the royals in your alliance." He sounds almost smug. "None of them work."

And that is when Xornoth makes what they will refer to for centuries to come as "The Mistake." They pick their book back up and affect disinterest as they impulsively decide to wipe the smug grin they are imagining off The Codfather's face. "There is my brother."

There is a long moment of silence. Xornoth eventually looks up and gets their first inkling of how badly they might have just messed up when they see the astonished expression on Sausage's face, and the slowly dawning delight on Katherine's. They stubbornly ignore the blank cod-face staring directly at them.

Why do you consistently choose to prove your incompetence.

"Your brother is alive?" Sausage says but is cut off by Katherine.

"Oh!" she says, bouncing on her toes, hands clasped under her chin. "That's perfect!"

Chapter Two [TBA]

Chapter Three [TBA]

#marriage of state au #solidaritygaming #xornoth #empires smp #flower husbands #empires s1 #katherineelizabeth #mythicalsausage #MoS Icons Arc #marriage of state fanfic #rain rambles #i am so excited to finally start posting this au #literally shaking #aroace author writes massive fallen fantasy au featuring marriages of convenience and politics #it goes exactly the way you would imagine #happy valentines day nerds #mos: fic

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thespoonisvictory · 29 days

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to be so honest I haven't even watched the most recent fhjy ep yet but I think it's hard to pick one singular reason why the rat grinders aspect felt so flat for people. On the whole, I thought the season was great and really loved it (compared to neverafter which I had issues with throughout), but this one aspect of the plot just kind of got crushed underfoot, which, tbh, it's dnd that's what happens sometimes brennan is still more talented than I could ever dream of being. anyway here are some reasons why we didn't get more rat grinders:

the downtime mechanics were cool, but highly rewarded deprioritizing social interaction to make sure you passed your classes.

the bad kids are so established as pcs that they already have a well-developed host of relationships, meaning they're less likely to reach out to new people (see how the mazey side-plot also fell flat for me). on top of that, this is more speculation, but the Intrepid Heroes play the bad kid's social cards closer to their chest and metagame more, probably bc they're the oldest pcs and the ones they're most attached to.

brennan, probably because he was juggling a ton of stuff, hardly initiated any rg subplot stuff. this made things like the oisin crush plot work, well, not at all, because what was the plot? all of his advances needed high perception checks to even notice, nothing was explicit, and it didn't go anywhere! they never even had a solo conversation! same thing with ivy and fabian, she just completely dropped off

the bad kids are also canonically paranoid PCs, who were given no carrot nor stick to interact with a group of people who they knew were associated with an enemy, especially when the downtime mechanics pushed them to prioritize other things

all of these issues led to an end of season lore dump where we learned pretty basic info about the rgs that we probably should have found less than halfway into the season. throughout the season, there were just a bunch of dropped balls from both brennan and the pcs that could have helped pick things up, had they been caught. it was both an oversaturation of plot threads and the insanely hostile (for comedy! because rude makes good comedy!) way the bad kids were played in general.

I don't think the rg inherently had to be redeemed. but putting aside that it thematically feels weird to not even mention it in a season about corruption, redemption, and rage, it's also not... really about that. take oisin for example: imagine a world where we get those interactions, maybe a date or even just hanging out more. there's an avenue where he legitimately catches feelings and can be swayed, or one where he plays a much more actively manipulative role. Either way, we learn way more about him, and either way, him getting killed means so much more.

if the rgs were not meant to be a prominent part of the season, it's surprising that brennan dropped so many details that suggested a sympathetic nuance! this was not a penelope everpetal level of detail, here. arguably, it was way more attention that ragh got pre-redemption. it just feels strange.

ultimately, fhjy just had too much to juggle, kind of a reoccurring theme with d20 at this point. there's so much I love and enjoy in the season (once again as compared to trw or neverafter), and I think it succeeds at being a comedy first dnd show! it is hilarious! but the number of plot points that felt like they were either blindly dropped or hastily resolved makes me really hope there's a senior year in the works to try to clean some of this up, and also that d20 will consider longer or simpler seasons.

#fhjy #d20

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 10 months

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Francis Drake Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Drake: "Hey, Mitsuki. Did you tame everyone in this mansion with your blood?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

I simply stared back at Drake, not understanding the meaning of his words.

Drake: "I've heard about your situation and the people in this mansion from Comte. After talking to them, I realized they're not bad guys."

Drake: "But I just don't get it."

Mitsuki: "What do you mean?"

Drake: "Because they're vampires, right? No matter how you look at it, they're different from humans."

(Ah...)

Drake: "They're creatures driven by the urge to drink blood and capable of taking lives like beasts."

Drake: "Well, it seems I'm a half, too. But..."

Drake: "It's hard to imagine that vampires and humans live together under the same roof and get along well without one side having control in the background."

(He's right. I've been living with everyone for a long time and forgot, but vampires are objects of fear in normal senses.)

They fed on human blood and posed a threat to their lives.

Drake: "At first, I thought you were just being used as prey, and the butler might have been silenced."

Drake: "Vampires are said to prefer the blood of young women, but the people here seem to treat you well."

Drake: "There's also the possibility that you're controlling the vampires in exchange for your blood, like a queen bee."

The carefree and nonchalant demeanor he had just moments ago was replaced by a sharp gaze, sending a slight shiver down my spine.

(So he was thinking about that behind that smile.)

It felt like I caught a glimpse of his wariness.

But I guess it was only natural to be that cautious when he suddenly arrived at a mansion full of vampires.

(But...)

Mitsuki: "I've never been bitten by a vampire, and I've never given blood to anyone."

Mitsuki: "There's no one-sided dominance going on. We're just living and supporting each other."

Drake: ".........."

Mitsuki: "You may have concerns, but please trust us. Everyone here is trustworthy."

I conveyed my feelings, hoping he would take off his armor-like caution.

Drake: "Trust, huh? People can easily betray you. You never really know what someone's thinking deep down."

(Huh?)

Drake: "Well, that's what I think."

Drake: "But if you're saying it like that, it's probably true. You don't seem like you'd be good at lying."

Drake's smile returned, and I let out a sigh of relief.

(I'm glad. Maybe his guard has loosened a bit.)

Drake: "Sorry for saying weird things."

Mitsuki: "No, it's okay. I'm just surprised you thought I was controlling everyone."

Drake: "Yeah? Even without the blood, those guys might still like you enough to be willing to change their fates, little fawn."

His almost sinister smile from up close caused me to catch my breath.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

Sebastian: "Excuse me. Is Mitsuki still here?"

Drake: "She's here. We were just flirting."

Mitsuki: "Drake, don't say that!"

Drake: "Haha! Sorry, sorry. Well then, goodnight, little fawn."

I left the room and found Sebastian waiting outside.

Sebastian: "If you don't mind me asking, what kind of flirting did Drake do to you?"

Mitsuki: "No, it's not like that. We were just having a serious conversation."

(But I feel like I touched on his true feelings just a bit.)

(Come to think of it, we were a little bit close.)

Sebastian: "You got close enough for your cheeks to blush."

Mitsuki: "Don't you dare write that in your diary!"

I stopped Sebastian from taking out his diary and briefly explained my conversation with Drake.

After hearing my story, Sebastian's expression showed a hint of surprise.

Sebastian: "I thought you guys were having a friendly chat, but to think he was considering such things..."

Sebastian: "I guess it's only natural that he has a composed side, considering he originally led naval forces into battle."

(That's true, but...)

------------Flashback------------

Drake: "Trust, huh? People can easily betray you. You never really know what someone's thinking deep down."

---------Flashback Ends---------

His voice at that moment felt cold, as if he didn't want to believe me.

(19th-century Paris was relatively peaceful without any conflicts. I wish he could become even more at ease in this mansion.)

I hoped for that, remembering the cold voice that lingered in my ears.

After that, Drake fully joined our everyday lives, spending more time with everyone at the mansion and even going to the mall.

Comte: "It's not good for you to keep using the guest room, so I'll prepare a room for you, Drake."

Comte: "Is there anything you need? Just let me know, and I'll get everything for you."

Drake: "Oh, in that case, I'll make a request."

Drake: "How about a luxurious chandelier? And a top-quality fur carpet? And..."

(T-They are all expensive stuff!)

Leonardo: "Are you thinking of selling them?"

Drake: "Oops. You caught me."

The next day, while observing a match between Drake and Jean一

Jean: "Hah!"

Drake: "Whoa! My turn!"

Jean: "You're quite good, Drake. It's a different kind of challenge compared to Napoleon."

Drake: "It's fun, but I never thought that the Maid of Orleans was a guy with incredible swordsmanship."

Mitsuki: "I think everyone would be shocked by that revelation about Jean."

Mozart: "Discrepancies between what is known and the truth are common throughout history."

Jean: "Drake, I'll make some marorons for you later to thank you for the training."

Mitsuki & Mozart: "!!"

Drake: "Marorons? I don't know what that is, but I look forward to it."

Mozart: "I'll warn you, Drake. Jean is the most terrifying when he's in the kitchen."

Then, on another night, when I brought tea to the parlor room一

Arthur: "Checkmate."

Drake: "What the?"

Drake: "Did I lose again? I thought I had a chance of winning at some point."

They were playing chess, and Drake seemed to be on a losing streak.

Arthur: "You're relying too much on brute force. Chess is a game of strategy."

Drake: "If it were a battle at sea, I'd send a flaming ship charging in."

Isaac: "It's scary how a pirate thinks."

Dazai: "Ahaha! Looks like Drake lost to his fellow countryman by a long shot."

At Dazai's words, I suddenly realized...

Mitsuki: "Aside from Drake and Shakespeare, you and Arthur were from England too, right?"

Isaac: "Yeah. Although the time periods we lived in were completely different."

Arthur: "I lived during the glorious era of Queen Victoria."

Arthur said that proudly, and Drake blinked curiously.

Drake: "Arthur, do you admire the queen?"

Mitsuki: "Well, he named his dog Victoria."

Arthur: "Yes. Although, when I found out later that he was a male, I felt frustrated because he was so cute."

Arthur: "Anyway, Queen Victoria was charming and beloved by the people. Wasn't Queen Elizabeth the same?"

Arthur: "England prospered during the reign of the queens because of their great achievements."

Drake: "........."

Drake: "Well, she was certainly a cunning queen. She thoroughly eliminated any threats to England in the shadows."

Drake: "I was used like a pawn, too."

Drake chuckled sarcastically and shrugged his shoulders.

(It doesn't seem like he admires her as much as Arthur does.)

According to the history book I read before, it stated that the queen favored him. But considering she sent him to war, there might have been hardships that didn't make it into history.

Drake: "Anyway, let me have a rematch from earlier. Arm wrestling this time."

Arthur: "OK! I accept. Isaac here will be the referee."

Isaac: "Why me!?"

Drake: "Alright, let's do it, Isaac!"

Dazai: "Go, Ai-chan."

After those fun few days, a week had gone by since Drake showed up.

Under the clear blue sky, while taking down the laundry, I reminisced about the events with the other residents over the past few days.

(It looks like he became close with everyone. I guess I didn't need to worry.)

Since Drake and I had met, there had been an atmosphere of mutual wariness. But that wasn't the case now.

(I'm glad Drake already feels at home here.)

Feeling relieved, I suddenly remembered the time when I first came to the mansion.

(Back when I first came here, I was eager to return to my original world as soon as possible.)

(I wonder if Drake ever misses his homeland.)

Lost in these thoughts, a gust of wind suddenly blew through.

Mitsuki: "Ah, my handkerchief!"

The handkerchief I had placed on top of the laundry got blown away, and I hurriedly chased after it.

Then, a bird swooped in from somewhere and skillfully caught the handkerchief with its feet.

The bird's entire body was red, with hints of green and other colors mixed into its feathers, creating a vivid display of colors.

(That's a parrot, right? I feel like I've seen it somewhere before.)

The familiar parrot gracefully circled the sky, seemingly enjoying itself.

As I followed its movements with my eyes, the parrot suddenly let go of the handkerchief, and the person it was hovering near raised a hand and caught it.

Drake: "Is this what you dropped, little fawn?"

The parrot perched on Drake's shoulder.

Mitsuki: "Thank you for helping with the laundry."

Drake: "It's no big deal."

He helped me carry most of the laundry, leaving only the sheets to be delivered to his room.

Drake: "Well then, welcome aboard my ship."

He opened the door to his room.

Mitsuki: "Sorry for the intrusion. Wow, your room looks like this now!"

His room, which I entered for the first time, had a different atmosphere compared to my room and everyone else's.

Drake: "I asked Comte to make it as comfortable as a ship's cabin, and this is what I ended up with."

Mitsuki: "A cabin, huh? It suits you."

As I looked around the room with great interest, the parrot perched on Drake's shoulder, flapped its wings, and moved to the deer antlers hanging on the wall.

Mitsuki: "I guess that bird is your pet? Thank you for picking up my handkerchief."

Drake: "Glad my partner could be of service. I guess he wanted to look good in front of a lady since he's a male."

Mitsuki: "Hehe. You looked quite dashing, Mr. Parrot. Um, what's its name?"

Parrot: "Draco, Draco!"

Mitsuki: "Wow, it talked!?"

Drake: "Yeah, he can talk. His name is Draco."

Mitsuki: "Does the name have any special meaning?"

Drake: "In the past, I was called El Draque by my enemies."

Drake: "He somehow picked it up and started squawking 'Draco, Draco,' so I just made it his name."

Mitsuki: "El Draque...?"

Drake: "It means demon."

(Is that because his opponents feared him?)

It was kind of hard to imagine since he said it so casually, but I guess he was really that scary to end up with a nickname like that.

(And he boldly used that as his pet's name.)

Drake: "Draco, meet Mitsuki, the little fawn. Get along, okay?"

Draco: "Fawn, fawn!"

(Hehe. Regardless of the meaning, Draco is already an important partner's name for him.)

Mitsuki: "By the way, there's something I've been wanting to ask. Why do you always call me little fawn?"

Drake: "Hm? Because when we first met, you were trembling in my arms like a fawn."

Drake: "Also, the name of the ship I used to sail on was the Golden Hind, which means golden female deer."

Drake: "So, it somehow felt fitting."

(So that's why. Maybe it just resonated with him in his own way.)

When I think about it that way, it feels like something special.

Drake: "You didn't like it?"

Mitsuki: "I don't mind. I'm glad you answered my question!”

Drake: "That's good, then. To be honest, you were trembling back then because I scared you."

Drake: "By the way, Fawn, can you take your hand out?"

I extended my hand as instructed, and he placed beautiful red-feathered earrings on my palm.

Mitsuki: "Wow, it's cute."

Drake: "Take it. I made it using one of Draco's feathers. Don't worry, I properly washed it."

Mitsuki: "Can I really have this? You even made it by hand."

I tilted my head in surprise at the sudden gift.

Drake: "Remember how I scared you and accused you of taming vampires?"

Drake: "I realized I've been giving you a hard time, so consider this my apology gift."

(Even though he had his reasons at the time, he still cared about how I felt.)

His feelings, along with the earrings, reach my heart without delay.

Mitsuki: "I'm so happy. Thank you, Mr. Drake!"

Drake: "Great. Now that we've made up, I have a suggestion."

Drake: "How about we drop the formalities? I mean, I'm calling you by your first name freely."

Mitsuki: "Then, Drake."

Drake: "Hmm, that's okay, but why not try calling me by my first name?"

(Huh?)

Mitsuki: "Francis?"

Drake: "Perfect. I like it, Mitsuki."

(Suddenly calling each other by first names feels a bit embarrassing.)

He playfully deepened his smile.

Drake: "Come on, try calling me by my first name more, Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "What!? You're teasing me, right?"

Drake: "Come on, of course not."

Mitsuki: "Don't tease me, Francis."

Drake: "You don't have to be so reserved. Just call me normally."

Mitsuki: "Geez. Francis!"

Drake: "Haha! Well done. You're so straightforward."

He laughed out loud at my somewhat embarrassed and half-shouted words.

(It feels like he's playfully manipulating me.)

But why did I feel ticklish even though it seemed like I was being rolled around in the palm of his hand?

Mitsuki: "Well, calling you by your first name alone is a little embarrassing, so I'll stick with Drake."

Drake: "Back to formal language, huh?"

Mitsuki: "Let me call you Drake."

Drake: "I wanted it to feel special, but okay, call me whatever you like."

He seemed satisfied and nodded with a smile.

Feeling my cheeks blush, I directed my gaze back to the earrings in my palm.

Mitsuki: "Can I try wearing this now?"

Drake: "Of course."

Drake: "It's difficult to put it on without a mirror, so sit on the chair. I'll do it for you."

I sat down as prompted, and he brushed my hair behind my ear.

Mitsuki: "Ahh..."

His finger brushed against my earlobe, causing my body to twitch involuntarily.

Drake: "Did that tickle?"

Mitsuki: "Just a little."

Drake: "Is this your weak spot?"

He playfully leaned closer to my ear, his voice and breath tickling me.

Mitsuki: "H-Hey, stop fooling around..."

Drake: "Sorry, sorry. I got carried away there. But bear with it a little longer."

Drake gently touched my earlobe and inserted the earring.

Drake: "Now, the other side."

(It feels strange to have someone put earrings on me.)

(I didn't realize my ears were this sensitive until now.)

Maybe I was feeling more sensitive because of his playful teasing earlier.

Coming to that conclusion, I held back the trembling sensation that almost overwhelmed me.

Drake: "Okay, there you go, Mitsuki."

I looked at my reflection in the window since we didn't have a mirror and saw vibrant feathers swaying on both of my ears.

Mitsuki: "Wow, it's beautiful. Thank you so much, Drake. And Draco, too."

Draco: "Fawn and Draco, together!"

Mitsuki: "That's right, we have matching feathers."

As we exchanged words, Drake suddenly turned serious.

Drake: "Just to make sure, you're not in a romantic relationship with anyone in the mansion, are you?"

I vigorously shook my head, startled by the sudden question.

Mitsuki: "Absolutely not! Everyone in the mansion is like a roommate and a friend to me. I don't have that kind of relationship with anyone."

Drake: "Heh?"

Drake: "Well, I was just worried because I gave you a gift. I didn't want it to create any misunderstandings if you had a boyfriend."

Drake: "If that's not a concern, I don't need to hold back. It suits you well, little fawn."

(........)

He took a step closer and placed his large hand on my head.

My heart was beating like crazy as I felt his gentle hand and gaze.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #francis drake #ikevamp #ikevamp drake #ikevamp francis #ikevamp jp #ikevamp translation #cybird

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eerna · 7 months

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So was it any good? tbosas I mean

Well,,,,,,,,, kind of? I had fun, but also went in knowing they won't pay attention to what I loved about the book so my expectations were properly low. TBOSAS is my fav THG book so a different adaptation exists in my head

Non-spoilery: The movie is divided in parts like the book, but there is no rhyme or reason why, no dramatic breaks or changes like in the books. The Reaping isn't on July 4th because of course. Tom Blyth as Coriolanus was a surprise because I expected nothing from him other than looking sort of like old Snow. The movie naturally removed any and all nuance from his character and kept spelling out everything, but there were a few scenes where they let him yknow, act out how his character is supposed to feel, and it was really good! Rachel Zegler as Lucy Gray was more of a mixed bag - sometimes she was fantastic in selling the over-the-top dramatic flare, but other times (especially towards the beginning) it was just weird. I firmly believe this is because the movie didn't fully commit to Lucy Gray as a charming crowd director who keeps her heart hidden and instead made her a more honestly vulnerable girl. She dazzled in musical numbers, though, that girl is a performer through and through! Viola Davis was bad I am so sorry but I felt like I was watching a Disney Channel performance and it's entirely the movie's fault and not hers. Peter Dinklage was super good as Dean Highbottom, he makes him all sad and lost without being over-the-top. The rest of the cast was also good. I loved the sets and the costumes, very in-line with what I'd imagined. The night/dark scenes were so dark that subtitles felt like they were burning into my eyes, it was the absolute worst quality dark scenes I've ever seen in a big movie.

Spoilery:

They removed Coriolanus' obsessive love for Lucy Gray and turned it sooo muted :(((( He didn't even want to kiss her before the Games! He didn't try to control her or feel jealousy or ANYTHING that could imply he might turn on her one day!! His emotional changes and impatience and politeness and selfish kindness are also all gone now. Sejanus and he aren't nearly as close as in the book, but there was this funny moment where the two of them had a more intense forehead touch moment than any Coriolanus shared with Lucy Gray and it made me chuckle. Tigris and Coriolanus were very very well done, I loved how she was always his first bestie!!! But I am sort of annoyed they turned it from "Tigris puts Coriolanus down for the way he treats others" to "Tigris is scared Coriolanus will become his dad". Lucy Gray's Reaping was absolutely horrible, she threw a singing fit instead of being a confident performer, so it makes no sense that she just flips a switch into untouchable after. Loved the snake charmer climax where everyone stands up for Lucy Gray and proves that Capitol needs a victor! It worked better for the movie than the book version, and the way the music exists as a meta instrumental scene where the score eventually catches up to her singing - THAT is how ALL her songs should have been treated!!! The way music worked was one of my biggest issues, sometimes they were totally off tonally from what their role was in the books (The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird this is about YOU Maiah Wynne's version makes me sob to this day while the movie version is only saved by Rachel's passion) and only the snake song was properly utilized as a plot point. They were such good opportunities for exposition that is more subtle than just putting whatever is Coriolanus feeling in clunky dialogue. And the clunky dialogue WAS constantly used to make up for the amount of internal monologues, even if it made zero sense -at the end they literally had Lucy Gray say "Haha if you destroyed the guns and killed me you could go to District 2 no sweat hahahaha anyway I'll go get some potatoes bye" like what. In what world would she literally tell him that. She is supposed to be a smart survivor. They also put "it's things we love most" quote as the final line in the movie, and I can't describe what a stupid choice that was, because if it wasn't there the movie would go "Highbottom tells Coriolanus he won't be able to forget Lucy Gray-> Coriolanus' proud exit where he believes to be the victor as snow falls down -> Can't Catch Me Now end credits including the snow motif", which would have been SO much stronger since that song delivers the "Lucy Gray eventually caught up to Coriolanus" message and we don't get it spelled out like we're 5 years old. It's not the only part of the movie where references to the OG stick out like a sore thumb, and I am once again asking Why. Why don't you think your audience is smart enough to understand.

#eernask #eernanon #eernask talk thg #tbosas spoilers #this is so messy i am sorry

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xamaxenta · 3 months

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Sometimes I think that dragon already knew about Imu, like dragon is smart ( he has to be) but sometimes I think he might have been too smart.

Like an 8 yr old spouting advanced battle tactics and catching the attention of higher ups.

Eventually catching the attention of the five elders

Maybe even..

Imagine it being 9-10 years old. Your father’s hand has left your shoulder “I’ll be right behind the door.” Was given with a tight smile. Garp hadn’t wanted this, but he had been given an order and there was no loophole. Dragon shivers, it’s a garden of sorts yet all of it feels wrong, twisted and he is overwhelmed by the urge to leave.

There’s a figure at the other edge of the garden, standing like a human. It tells him to come and he does, pulled like a noose has been tied around his neck.

He ends at the figures feet, bowing. Its feet aren’t even touching the grass.

“Do you like chess?”

Dragon looks up, despite every bone in his body telling him not to. He looks up because his grandmother told him it was bad manners not to look someone in the eye when they were talking to you.

Red

Years later all dragon can recount is the colour red and certainty that he would die.

Id really like for more Garp nuance to come to the forefront for the monkey family lore

This is really good tho, dragon encountering Imu as a child because hes a strange one in a million every century prodigy

He likes chess but maybe he hasnt touched a piece since that encounter preferring to hypothetically speaking keep all his pieces inside his head

^^ just theorycrafting the headcanon Dragon doesnt have a war table or tacticle map room that would be common to find for an organisation like his

Its all in his noggin he cant risk yknow

#raccooon returns with the steel chair and whACKS me outta the ring

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alatismeni-theitsa · 7 months

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I'm not Greek or anything, but following this blog and studying Greek culture has opened my eyes. I really do enjoy learning about other cultures. I guess when it comes to Greek retellings by American authors, I get talking about what women went through, but like... Do we... HAVE to make every single guy a bad guy and every single woman a victim? That sounds even MORE sexist if you ask me based on what's being written. Idk. I guess I'd like to see something different after studying Greek culture and getting REAL tired of Western portrayal of it.

Heyy! Welcome and thank you for the support! 💙It only takes some exposure before you start suffering/rolling your eyes like Greeks do 😂 (I'd do a Matrix reference but there are weird connotations attached there 😅 Is the term "Greekpilled" okay for this situation?? who knows)

These stories come from a culture with huge history and Greeks have studied them again and again forever. Like... we KNOW what's going on in these texts. We are aware of the dynamics and the context and how deep (or not, looking at you Circe) each character can be. We, and the whole world. And yet half the western - mainly Anglo - internet pretends they have been enlightened and can suddenly see things that people before them hadn't considered. Woooow what profound and innovative thinking!! You're so better than the rest of us, guys! I am sure absolutely nobody ever thought about the circumstances of these characters and the difficult situations they were forced into!!

And since we're at it: Lately some posts have come to my attention where people exalt Clytemnestra and all her murders, just because she suffered and lived in a patriarchal society. At the same time, they target people who focus on the complex character of Agamemnon, and label them as misogynists and enemies of Clytemnestra. 14-year-old Greeks in Gymnasio speak with more nuance about Clytemnestra and Agamemnon but I guess these grown-ass westerners think their thoughts are unique.

I, of course, don't mind when someone is sympathetic to Clytemnestra and condemns Agamemnon's actions. There is base for that. But people forget how to be chill and reasonable about their analysis. It's come to a point where if you so much as LIST Clytemnestra's bad actions, or Agamemnon's good qualities, there's always someone being condescending about it, as if they're saying "we are modern, we never accuse women now, catch up! Agamemnon is the real villain of it all". Bonus: the phrase "I support women's wrongs" (while the song "let's generalize about men" plays unironically in the background). I'd like to say to them: touch grass and read a book ΤΟΥΒΛΟ, ξύλο απελέκητο, ντενεκέ ξεγάνωτε

As for the retellings, yes they manage to be even more sexist can you imagine that! The most glaring example is Medusa's story! They have things so backward and yet the rest of us have to sit back and listen to their misinformed, juvenile takes

#answered #greek mythology #clytemnestra #agamemnon #medusa

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verbosebabbler · 3 months

Text

I have listened through season 1 of the Magnus Archives.

If this somehow makes it to the purely Magnus Archives fans, then my discussion may not make full sense.

I'm coming at this podcast through the lens of Zampanio. Zampanio is a thing hard to explain itself, but suffice to say it is a different arg/web series thing and it uses several concepts found in the Magnus Archives, like the different Fears.

There will be spoilers for season 1 and spoilers for this concept Zampanio borrowed, so I may know a bit more than your average first time listener. I read through some of the wiki specifically on this system for the purposes of better understanding Zampanio, but not any of the plot related happenings for the podcast.

So my discussion will be below the cut.

Now, briefly for my Zampanio fellows, sorry I have been away. That I'm still away, really. My Zampanio induced 'hibernation' as I'd been calling it has lasted longer than I expected. I'm not really up to date with the goings-on, though I still get pieces floating by through discord notifications. JR, you asked for use of my pixel art and I never responded. You may.

I am not fully returned to the community. It doesn't feel right if I'm not caught up enough to fulfill my role as Guide. And I am intimidated by the process of trying to catch up with what is an ever expanding series. So my discussions below will be through the lens of things prior to my general departure after Lavinraca.

My discussion continues below.

As I said, I have gone through the first season of the Magnus Archives and I think I understand the Fear Entities system a bit more.

It was neat to see the throughlines of these specific Fears through the different stories of this first season. I could almost tag each story with it's associated Fears (usually multiple as I now see how they oft intertwine). Specifically I am beginning to understand the more nuanced differences between more closely related Fears like Death, Corruption, and Desolation. Season 1 Episode 36 "Taken ill" seems to be trying to make the distinction at least between the fear of death and the fear of the rot.

I did try to keep a close eye on Desolation, a fear I had trouble differentiating between either End or Corruption aside from the association of fire. And that fire association was the only connection I saw between the Desolation and Ria.

I know Ria went on a blaze of arm 1, so that is an obvious comparison. But I couldn't see the nuances of Desolation that led to that conclusion. She always just seemed Eye-coded. The endless pursuit to understand the nature of the world, her wanting to be seen and acknowledged by both Camille and Vic. It all felt it pointed to a desire to know and be known.

I know she made statements of wanting to destroy the world to start anew and those are meant to point to Desolation, but I don't know. It felt a little… tacked on? It never really fit.

I understand the view, the destruction to make room for growth. But I don't really see that in her character. She is a compassionate person, trying to take care of those around her, like Devona when she was stuck in her monstrous form. But the Desolation isn't really integrated with this compassion.

Like, I'd imagine this sort of Desolation would rely more on tough love, of breaking down the bad parts on those they care for to allow them to heal and become better people. But she just seems to focus on just making others better, rather than destroying the parts of them that are hurting them.

I could just be misunderstanding things. I know there is an element of self destruction to her character, maybe an aspect of destroying herself to try to make things better for others. And admittedly it's been a while since I read those related sections.

But I do definitely now better understand the difference between being an Avatar of an Entity and just being haunted by that Entity. I knew that it involved some kind of draw to the Fear, a compulsion to proliferate it. But seeing it through the words of Jane Prentiss in Season 1 Episode 32 "Hive" made it pretty clear.

It's especially useful to compare that episode to something like Season 1 Episode 16 "Arachnophobia". Carlos there was particularly tormented by the fear of spiders, and Jane seemed to be troubled by the wasps in her home as she reached out for help. But she also had a strong compulsion to them, to what they represent, to their actions, to what she 'heard' that others could not hear. Seeing this inner monologue will help me understand the other characters in Zampanio acting as Avatars of their respective entity, like the connection between Camille and End.

Otherwise, I am just generally enjoying my time with the Magnus Archives. I'm going to be continuing on to the next season soon. I was just compelled to write something, probably due to the narrative tone of the podcast getting stuck in my head (though I think it's faded throughout the long period of me writing this).

And, hopefully, I will be able to sit down and reread all the writings in this branch of Zampanio. My memory to particulars has started to fade and my own archival process for Zampanio was actually meant for the purposes of me rereading it. It's just an intimidating amount to read with a difficulty in where to start.

I could just go as a regular explorer would through all the writings in North, East, South, West, NorthNorth, EastEast, and so on. But I wanted to try to find a more coherent reading order to suggest for newcomers before my hibernation. Now I need the order myself, one that I did not make. I'll probably haphazardly tred through my files, maybe trying to write up an order as I bumble my way through. That's why it was been an intimidating task.

But I wanted to make some sort of written thing to check in and say that I am still thinking about Zampanio. Also, sorry for the potentially weird writing voice. After listening to a specific voice for a long time, spoken or written, my inner narration involuntarily mimics it (a Thief of Dreams quality in myself). It's faded in the too long of time of me writing this, and I just noticed this on reread but I don't really feel like rewriting it.

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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 months

Text

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Funfact! Eros and Psyche are my actual parents and I am their child -Danny Words: 2,182 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Would've Could've Should've' -by Taylor Swift

XXXVII: I Am So Very Extremely Extraordinarily Normal Right Now

Ara scans the crowd of mortals but no one gives her weird vibes yet, these kids look their age but they're here to enjoy the summer. Ara and her friends are here to fight a war, she envies them.

"Are you gonna tell me what you meant back in the ship or—"

Ara hushes him. "It's not safe."

Nico frowns. "Did you hear Nemesis? Or Janus?"

"No. It felt different," she says dryly. "Like it was threatening to hurt me if I didn't come along."

"Are you seeing this?" Jason points at an ice cream cart.

Nico stops and squints. "Maybe we should buy some ice cream."

Ara studies the appearance of the person Jason has spotted: a young man that reminds her of Leo if Leo were some king of wind spirit: handsome with dark curly hair and large warm-colored wings.

"He's not a returned spirit," Nico says deep in thought. "Or a creature of the Underworld."

"No. I doubt they would eat chocolate-covered ice cream bars," Jason mutters.

"So what is he?" Nico asks.

Ara has a bad feeling about him even if the guy looks harmless. He smiles before vanishing, but Jason can track his aura, so he takes the lead. Ara keeps her grip on Almighty firm and ready.

"I'm betting that's the palace," Jason points to the ruins. "Come on."

Her heart starts beating like crazy, she feels butterflies and her hands get clammy, and the symptoms do not match her usual anxiety, this feels like the kind of nerves she felt seated on the porch swing with Leo, all those months ago in camp.

"We've got to catch him," Jason prepares to fly. "Hold on."

"But—"

The boy seizes both Nico and Ara and flies them to the other side of the tall walls where there are more tourists, none of those mortals seem to notice them.

"A little warning would be nice!" Ara hisses. "Man, you can't just pick me up like that! Where are we anyway?"

"The peristyle. This was the entrance to Diocletian's private residence." Nico turns to Jason and glares at him. "And please, I don't like being touched. Don't ever grab me again."

Jason looks at both teens, both younger and smaller than him and yet more intimidating than he's comfortable admitting. "Uh, okay. Sorry. How do you know what this place is called?"

"I've been here before," Nico responds quietly. "With my mother and Bianca. A weekend trip from Venice. I was maybe... six?"

"That was when... the 1930s?"

"'Thirty-eight or so," Nico hums. "Why do you care? Do you see that winged guy anywhere?"

"No..." Jason says, eyeing the boy intently.

Ara's used to being the bad guy in Nico's eyes, and at this point, she doesn't care about upsetting him further, so she voices what Jason is thinking. "I think it's impressive that you've retained information of such an old memory, considering all you've been through."

Jason doesn't want them to fight when he's the only one around to stop them. "I agree, can't imagine how weird that must be, coming from another time."

"No, you can't," Nico snaps. Ara clears her throat, reminding him they've made a deal. The boy relaxes a bit. "Look... I don't like talking about it. Honestly, I think Hazel has it worse. She remembers more about when she was young. She had to come back from the dead and adjust to the modern world. Me... me and Bianca, we were stuck at the Lotus Hotel. Time passed so quickly. In a weird way, that made the transition easier."

"Percy told me about that place," Jason nods. "Seventy years, but it only felt like a month?"

Nico clenches his fist. "Yeah. I'm sure Percy and Ara told you all about me."

"Yeah, and how much of a nuance you are," Ara replies sarcastically. "I'm planning to kill you as soon as you're done helping us."

"That's not funny," Jason gives her a look.

"No, it's not," Ara agrees heatedly. "It's ridiculous that he thinks we're always trying to make him look bad in front of—"

"Well, you had no problem talking shit about me to Lily."

"That's not—"

"Roman dead are everywhere here..." Nico interrupts her, walking away. "Lares. Lemures. They're watching. They're angry. We shouldn't stay here for long."

"They're looking at us?" Jason tenses, reaching for his sword and kind of glad to have a way to derail the argument.

"At everything." Nico points ahead. "That used to be a temple to Jupiter. The Christians changed it to a baptistery. The Roman ghosts don't like that. And over there... That was the mausoleum of the emperor."

"But his tomb isn't there anymore," Jason responds.

"Not for centuries," Nico agrees. "When the empire collapsed, the building was turned into a Christian cathedral."

Jason swallowed. "So if Diocletian's ghost is still around here—"

"He's probably not happy."

Jason nudges her arm. "That way. The winged guy. Where do you think those stairs lead?"

"Underground," Nico smiles coldly. "My favorite place."

As they enter the passageway, Ara thinks about stuff she hasn't thought of in ages. It could be Athena's blessing, but she's thinking about how ephemeral the world she comes from is. One day it's there, then it's just a fun tourist attraction falling to pieces.

Her dreams, none of that will go anywhere. In the end, she'll die, and all that was precious to her will become ruins. It's pointless. Even her laurel wreath, given to her as a tribute to her sacrifices, will get buried under debris at some point. Nothing matters.

"Ara?"

The girl gives a start. "Sorry, what?"

"The note," Jason tells her. "I asked if you could give it to me, I think this is a good place."

Ara draws out the note from her Octopi bag and hands it to him, he leaves it under a bust of Diocletian.

"Okay, that's done," Ara takes a deep breath, shaken by her disheartening thoughts. "Can we—"

"Hello!" Out of instinct, Jason cuts the statue's head. Ara pulls out Almighty too, finding the wind spirit they'd been following right behind them. "That wasn't very nice," he says. "I mean, what did Diocletian ever do to you?"

The statue fixes itself, and Jason glances at it before turning to the young man. "Uh—It was an accident. You startled me."

"Jason Grace, the West Wind has been called many things... Warm, gentle, life-giving, and devilishly handsome. But I have never been called startling. I leave that crass behavior to my gusty brethren in the north." The guy grins.

"The West Wind?" Nico takes a step forward. "You mean you're—"

"Favonius," Jason states. "God of the West Wind."

"You can call me by my Roman name, certainly, or Zephyros, if you're Greek. I'm not hung up about it."

"Why aren't your Greek and Roman sides in conflict, like the other gods?" Nico frowns.

"Oh, I have the occasional headache—Some mornings I'll wake up in a Greek chiton when I'm sure I went to sleep in my SPQR pajamas. But mostly the war doesn't bother me. I'm a minor god, you know—never really been much in the limelight. The to-and-fro battles among you demigods don't affect me as greatly."

Ara eyes him, his presence makes her uneasy. "And you're here to talk about...?"

"The sarcophagus of Diocletian," he answers. "This was its final resting place. The Christians moved it out of the mausoleum. Then some barbarians destroyed the coffin. I just wanted to show you that what you're looking for isn't here. My master has taken it."

Ara gets a gut reaction that makes her knees buckle. Her back hits the wall, this is far from good.

"Your master?" Jason asks in alarm. "Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus."

"That airhead? No, of course not," he laughs.

"He means Eros," Nico points out. "Cupid, in Latin."

"Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been a long time."

"I've never met you," he steps back scowling.

"You've never seen me, but I've been watching you. When you came here as a small boy, and several times since. I knew eventually you would return to look upon my master's face." He turns to Ara, his smile growing. "He has kept an eye on you too, Princess of Troy."

Ara's grip tightens around her sword, and Nico is starting to look uneasy as well.

Jason looks at them. "Guys, what's he talking about?"

"I don't know. Nothing," Nico says anxiously.

"Nothing? The one you care for most... plunged into Tartarus, and still you will not allow the truth?"

"That's enough," Ara intervenes in a harsh and demanding tone. "My brother has no business keeping that scepter, we need it."

Favonius tilts his head. "You know, long before this was Diocletian's Palace, it was the gateway to my master's court, so you see, it is very much all over his business. I've dwelt here for eons, bringing those who sought love into the presence of Cupid."

"Like Psyche, Cupid's wife," Jason offers. "You carried her to his palace."

"Your favorite myth, daughter of Olympus," Favonius grins. "You know, your brother was always quite flattered. From this exact spot, I carried Psyche on the winds and brought her to the chambers of my master. In fact, that is why Diocletian built his palace here. This place has always been graced by the gentle West Wind. It is a spot of tranquility and love in a turbulent world. When Diocletian's Palace was ransacked—"

"If Eros has the scepter and you're here to let us know," Ara interrupts him again, "that means he's willing to hand it to us?"

"It is one of Cupid's many treasures, a reminder of better times. If you want it..." Favonius looks at her and Nico intently. "You must face the god of love."

"Guys, you can do this," Jason says, oblivious to why this freaks them out. "It might be embarrassing, but it's for the scepter."

"You're right," Nico attempts to look brave. "I—I'm not afraid of a love god."

Nothing in this world terrifies Ara nearly as much as love does. Real love—the one that claws at your insides and brings you to your knees—breaks, wounds, and changes you. Love destroyed Nico's youthful spirit. Love took young, gullible Ara, and ate away every bit that was sweet and tender. Nemesis has no other face but Ara's, because she can only hurt love when she hurts herself.

Favonious's gaze brightens at Nico's words. "Excellent! Would you like a snack before you go? Oh, bluster—I keep forgetting my symbol is a basket of unripe fruit. Why doesn't the spring wind get more credit? Summer has all the fun." He makes a face.

"That's okay," Nico urges him. "Just take us to Cupid."

They land on solid ground and Ara crashes against Nico, he catches her before she falls.

"Yes, mortal bodies are terribly bulky," Favonius hums when he sees their conditions. "Honestly, I don't know how you stand it, day in and day out."

Ara moves away from Nico and steadies her breathing, she doesn't know what Eros will force upon them, but she refuses to look frightened. This is the one monster she's been wanting to fight for years.

"Welcome to Salona. Capital of Dalmatia! Birthplace of Diocletian! But before that, long before that, it was the home of Cupid—Oh, he's not like that," the god says of nowhere.

Jason gives a start. "You can read my mind?"

"I don't need to," the man shrugs, playing with a bronze hoop he's been carrying the whole time. "Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid... until they meet him. This one seems to be the only one who knows what she's about to face," he points at Ara.

Ara looks around waiting to spot Eros somewhere. Beside her Nico stumbles onto a column, the anxiety of the moment seems to be weighing on him.

"Ah... I don't blame you for being nervous, Nico di Angelo. Do you know how I ended up serving Cupid?"

"I don't serve anyone," Nico growls. "Especially not Cupid."

Favonius sighs. "I fell in love with a mortal named Hyacinthus. He was quite extraordinary."

"He...?" Jason pauses. "Oh..."

"Yes, Jason Grace." Favonius turns to him. "I fell in love with a dude. Does that shock you?"

"I guess not. So... Cupid struck you with his arrow, and you fell in love."

"Jason, be quiet." Ara is freaking out, her mouth is drying, and she knows what this god is insinuating.

The god grins. "Arae Jackson, you were an Aphrodite once, but now you're not fond of love..."

"I'd get along with him just fine if he'd leave me alone," she grumbles.

"Oh, but it isn't his fault, not really. He used his arrows on you, yes, but the arai were the ones who got carried away with you. My master has tried to help, but well, love can't fight itself!"

"Ara, what is he—"

"It doesn't matter," she responds with a fiery gaze. "It doesn't mean he isn't enjoying my pain. He's worse than our Mother."

"Perhaps," the god smirks. "But right now, he's one of the few gods willing to lighten your burden. You want to save your friends, don't you? Make up for what you can't stop from happening."

"Eros!" Ara calls out impatiently.

The air shifts and speeds up around them. Favonius sighs. "That would be my cue. Think long and hard about how you proceed. You cannot lie to Cupid. If you let your anger rule you... well, your fate will be even sadder than mine."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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skaruresonic · 5 months

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Everytime I catch a glimpse of discussion within the Sonic fandom I feel like I'm going insane.

Speaking purely from my own experience, not too long ago practically every Sonic fan firmly believed that Sonic was an unfeeling hard boiled soldier/action man/dude bro who had zero concern for anything other than his personal amusement. Back then Sonic was "supposed to be" an unthinking action drone that only blows stuff up and runs around doing poses. And if you ever dared to imply that he'd do something sappy, than you would get labeled as a baby who can't handle "hardcore material" or something.

Flash forward to now and it seems like majority is convinced Sonic is a fluffy soft boy who would never hurt a fly and he sincerely prays every night that everyone gets a happy ending. including the people who've done nothing but cause pain. Also he's extremely emotional over everything and hurting on the inside or something. And if you think he should snap back at his enemies you're just an edgelord who doesn't understand anything.

What happened??? How did we go from one extreme to the other??? Why is it so hard for sonic fans to see the characters for what they are instead of making up nonsense???

And if you think he should snap back at his enemies you're just an edgelord who doesn't understand anything.

"So you want Sonic to murder his enemies in cold blood?"

"Where the hell did you get that from? I said Sonic doesn't care about Eggman's welfare and that his attitude seems to be 'if he dies, he dies.' Where did you get 'I want Punisher!Sonic' out of that lol"

Fandoms be fandoming. I personally saw a forum thread back in the day likening Modern Sonic to a soulless vehicle designed to get you from Point A to Point B, in contrast to Classic Sonic who had more "soul." There are always going to be people who think the new shift in direction is soulless, whatever that means.

The irony is, the reason the Adventure games were as comparatively dark as they were (YMMV on that, obviously) was because ST didn't like how cute and Mickey Mouse-ish Classic Sonic was becoming in the late '90s; they wanted to reintroduce, or rather retain, the rough-edged, "bad boy" side of his personality. Hence why they had Maekawa write for those games.

Cultural differences exacerbate these... well... differences in how we perceive Sonic as well. What the West sees as a "bad boy" and what Japan sees as a "bad boy" can be based on very divergent concepts. Kanemaru!Sonic's tendency to sprinkle Engrish sounds silly to Anglophones, for example, but in Japan it's a sign of his worldliness and his overall coolness.

Likewise, SoA!Sonic tends to use harsher language than SoJ!Sonic might use, such as saying strawberry shortcake "sucks" in a Twitter Takeover.

While I can't vouch for how Japanese Sonic fans view SoA!Sonic, to Anglophones, Games!Sonic seems like a squeaky-clean goodie two-shoes Gary-Stu. Which, again, ignores the cultural framework against which his character exists.

All that being said, Sonic is still quite a multifaceted character, even if he isn't the deepest or most fleshed-out in the cast. As a static character who represents an ideal and inspires positive change in others, he doesn't exactly need to be.

Lately I've been seeing a lot of overreductive takes with Shadow which attempt to boil him down to one or two traits at the expense of others, but I imagine it happens to Sonic quite a bit also. Despite being a static character, Sonic, like Shadow, has multiplicity of character. People really struggle with contending with that kind of variability. How he reacts to any given situation will change based on circumstance. Truth resists simplicity, which is antithetical to the kind of Declarations(tm) social media likes to make about the cast. Adding asterisks and footnotes risks diluting the impact of the message. So naturally, people are going to forgo context and nuance in favor of more digestible analyses, in addition to ignoring the games and just plain making shit up.

For instance: "Sonic's selfish" or "Sonic's selfless" is a false dichotomy. The answer is the Schroedinger's cat, both selfish and selfless until someone opens the box, maybe in a quantum state of both. To say one or the other is true ignores the spectrum and the circumstances in which Sonic expresses selfishness vs. selflessness. Sonic can be selfish sometimes, just as he can be selfless, but whether he is or is not depends on what he's doing at the moment and what provokes this reaction.

So on and so forth.

#asks #sonic

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aplaceinthedark · 6 months

Text

chapter eight: DIE YOUNG than DIE ALONE

Summary: Down in the Shenandoah Valley, there lay a court consisting of the Grim, the Drowned, the Witch and the Watcher.

CW: supernatural themes, mention of death, mentions of religious sacrifice, body horror, graphic violence, religious trauma, drowning, animal cruelty, angst

Every chapter will have a different cw section. This is Bad Omens rpf, so obviously I don't know all the little nuances of the members or their family members.

A/N: Some things are color-coded. If any of you are colorblind lemme know.

I gave Noah a look, the small seed of fear crushed the second he said that line in my head. "That's the dumbest fucking thing I've heard."

As Folio howled a laugh, Nick turned to me. "What did he–"

"Shut up," Noah scowled.

With the introductions out of the way, Nick dug into a backpack and started handing me food. "Breakfast," was all he said when I gave him a quizzical look. I was grateful for the thermos of hot coffee though.

"When did you make all this?" I asked.

"When you were knocked out. I guess I owe you some groceries," he said.

"How about some more explanations, and I'll call it even?" Even though using my food was less than enough for what he did to take care of me.

"Deal." He smiled, catching me a little off guard with how it scrunched up his whole face. It was endearing and… cute. It made my insides flutter and I felt my cheeks heat up.

Was I imagining things?

Thankfully, we all sat down so I could eat, because my feet were dying. “So what do you want to know?” Folio asked.

My mind went through all the possible things I could ask. Instead, all I said was, “I guess… start at the beginning. How did you all get involved in this… mess?”

“Well, it all started with a cult,” Folio said.

“A cult?” I blurted out.

“Should we start with the cult?” Jolly asked.

“It makes the most sense.” Folio shrugged.

“Then we would have to explain the first Watcher of the Woods,” Jolly said.

“Just… I don’t care what you start with,” I sighed. The four all shared a look, but it was Noah who sighed.

“They called themselves the Children of the Revered Father,” he said. “They consisted of a lot of the citizens of New Hope, and a few people from nearby. They made it sound like they were a Christian church, but they worshiped something far darker.

“The first Watcher was also called the Black Stag, one of many epithets. Once a year, the Black Stag required a Hollowed Vessel, or what was really a sacrifice. The Children were not picky about who they would sacrifice, though they said it was due to ‘divine means’ Of picking out who would be a vessel. Folio here was the first to be sacrificed in these parts of the woods.” Folio growled at the mention of his name, and that’s when I saw his teeth. When he snarled, his lips curled up, and I could see that his teeth formed long, jagged points. Like fangs.

“Jolly was drowned at one point between me and Folio dying,” Noah said.

“So how did you guys come into contact with the cult?” I asked Jolly and Folio.

“We were members, in a sense,” Jolly said.

“In the loosest of terms,” Folio interjected when he saw how shocked I looked. “We were barely considered to be called that.”

“I thought that’s what I was about to become,” Jolly said. “They said to become a member, I had to be baptized. Really, they just held me down until I drowned.”

“I was shipped out to what my family thought was a reformation camp for ‘misguided youths.’ Then I became a ‘runaway’ after I was killed,” Folio said.

“Nick and I were out in the woods with friends, sneaking out to smoke weed and drink beer, when we saw Folio getting gutted,” Noah said. “And then when we went to the police, they dismissed us and told everyone that we made it all up.”

“They were a part of the cult, too,” Nick said, leaning towards me. He then pulled a cigarette out and lit it.

“So we were just expected to believe that everything was just fine out in the woods, told to stay out. while people were just being killed,” Noah said, nodding towards Jolly. “And I wasn’t going to sit down and let it happen.”

“And that’s when you decided to just… Go out into the woods? For answers?” I asked.

Noah’s eyes flashed. “Yes, but not like how the article painted me,” he snarled. “I wasn’t some obsessed conspiracy theorist. I wasn’t crazy like my ex set me up as.”

“Did you… did you get your answers?” I asked, bringing my knees up to my chest.

Noah paused, staring into my face. I kept my gaze steady, not looking away. If he was looking for something in my head, he didn’t show it if he found it. He slowly nodded.

“I found them, alright, but in the form of a knife to my stomach. They wanted to sacrifice me, but I managed to get away. That’s when the Black Stag found me.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. What is it?”

“It has a lot of names; The Watcher of the Woods, That Which Came From The Mountain, The Black Stag of the Below…” Jolly trailed off. “His real name can’t be spoken, so we just called him what we could.”

“The Black Stag was the reason why no one was allowed out after dark,” Nick said. “If you were out in the woods after dark, The Watcher would snatch you and eat you. And if he wasn’t fed regularly, he would come looking.”

“So the offerings…” I trailed off.

“The offerings used to be for the Black Stag,” Nick said. “He wanted human sacrifices. Noah here just happens to be easy to please.”

“Beer. Pizza. Tacos. But your apples are fine, I guess.” Noah shrugged. I was so close to slapping him into the river.

Instead, I turned to Nick and quietly asked, “Granny said that she left offerings. Is she—?” I didn’t want to voice the part where she said that Nick was supposed to secede her.

“She wasn’t a member. The Children were a perversion of our practice. We worshiped the King in Green, the benevolent version of the Watcher. The Children worshiped his darker face, The Black Stag.” Nick crossed his arms over his chest.

”So what happened to the original Watcher? This ‘Black Stag’?” I asked.

“I killed him,” said Noah.

My jaw dropped. “Y…You killed him?” I asked. Noah nodded. “How?!”

Noah mimed grabbing onto something. “Grabbed him by the horns and just—“ He mimed twisting. I flinched as if I could hear the bones break.

"There's a bit more to it than that," Nick said, rolling his eyes.

"What happened to the cult?" I asked.

"Gone. Once their god was dead, they moved to other towns. Those were the smart ones,” Jolly said.

“The ones that stayed… well, they didn't last long," Folio smirked, baring his fangs.

"What does that mean?"

"We killed them," Noah said bluntly. "A few got scared and ran off when they saw us, but the really stubborn ones tried to do stupid stuff, like restart the cult or come after me."

"And you just… killed them?" I asked.

Noah gave me a look, the answer was unspoken. “You can call us monsters. They did. So we acted the part.”

“Not gonna lie, it felt good killing the people who killed me,” Folio said, shrugging.

“And if we didn’t do something, more people would’ve died. Other kids would’ve,” Noah said. “So this is our job now. Call us haints, monsters, whatever—“

“I don’t think you’re monsters,” I whispered. Noah heard it and shut up.

I meant it. Something in my gut was telling me that they weren’t telling me everything like I asked for; that there was definitely more to the story. How did they become what they were now? If Noah killed the original Watcher, how is he the Watcher now?

On one hand, I felt like I was owed an explanation for everything. I had been practically dragged unwillingly into their circle of weirdness, so I should know the whole truth. But on the other hand, they had told me so much already in just one day. If I was going to stay, I would have the time to learn.

If I stayed.

I couldn’t go back to Newport, where everything used to be familiar and safe, but now tainted. Too many bad memories. I came here for a fresh start, and I guess I was getting it. I also couldn’t afford to move again, let alone back to Newport.

And… I didn't want to leave. Despite all this and maybe almost dying, I didn't want to run away. I wanted to stay.

This place felt like home.

"So that's why I think he's the hardest boss in all the Dark Souls games," Nick told Noah.

We were heading back to my house, Noah tagging along to "make sure we got back safe and sound" as he put it. I had been silent since we left, leaving the two men to fill the void. Once or twice I would catch Nick glancing at me, but we would both look away quickly.

WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND, LITTLE RABBIT?

I winced at the sudden intrusion. Don't call me that. And get out of my head.

ANSWER THE QUESTION.

I bristled at the authoritative tone his voice took. You're not the boss of me, and you don't scare me.

LITTLE RABBIT, YOU SHOULD BE SCARED OF ME. YOU'RE NOT THINKING ABOUT RUNNING OFF, ARE YOU?

I glared up at Noah, who had been talking to Nick this whole time. Why do you care? You've done nothing but be mean to me.

Nick faced forward, and Noah slid his eyes to meet mine.

I CARE BECAUSE NICK CARES. YOU'RE THE ONLY FRIEND HE HAS THAT ISN'T BOUND TO THE WOODS. YOU LEAVE, HE ONCE AGAIN HAS NOTHING.

I'm not leaving. So you can breathe easy now.

WOULD IF I COULD.

Smartass.

NO SHIT.

He sighed physically.

BUT IF YOU’RE REALLY GONNA STAY, AND STAY WITH NICK… THEN I GUESS YOU AND I COULD BE FRIENDS, TOO.

Soon we crossed from the woods and onto my lawn. I had shed Nick's jacket soon after we left the hollow as soon as August returned in full force. "I'll see you again tonight?" Nick asked Noah.

"Same time as always," Noah replied. He then turned towards me. "You're always welcome to join, if we didn't scare you away."

"I think I've had enough fun for one day," I said. Noah shrugged.

Noah shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm sure knocking your skull against a—" He stopped when he glanced over at my house.

Nick and I looked in the same direction at the same time. "What? What is it?" I asked as Nick stepped onto my porch. I tried to follow, but Noah grabbed my arm, holding me back. That's when I saw the bright orange paper stuck between my screen door and the doorway. "What is that?"

Nick pulled it out, silently read the front for about a few minutes too long, and then looked up at Noah. He then held it up to us.

"’The Veridiction of the Revered Father’.”

Tysm for reading! Next chapter coming soon!

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pazodetrasalba · 6 days

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Vae Victis

Dear Caroline:

Just finished reading yesterday this recommendation of yours. It wasn't bad, but if I am to be sincere, it is up to now the least interesting of your 5 star choices. I imagine this comes as a result of my absence from the world it depicts: what might have been personally relevant for an (ex)finance bro like you is mostly irrelevant for me.

Yes, the book is a bit slow and rambling, and yes, it does accelerate and get more thriller-like once the bids are out (title gives away the resolution, though, if for some reason you had never heard of the RJR Nabisco leveraged buyout in the first place). The cast is too big - I actually benefited from watching the movie adaptation before finishing the book so that I could at least make a clear mental picture of the, say, 10 or so main characters.

One way of reading this book (and the popular narrative at the time of the events) is as a story of greed, with stereotyped and villainous figures (the film is much less nuanced than the book, and really goes full-hog in this direction: Ross Johnson is a a snake charmer wallowing in luxury who'd sell his mother for the right price, and Henry Kravis is literally Count Dracula - nobody does 'slightly creepy old dude' better than Jonathan Pryce), the worst of which are Wall Street bankers and lawyers who are out to make a catch with complete disregard for the well-being of businesses, shareholders, workers and public. This is how I would have read it many years ago, in my Marxist years. Now that I have become attuned to the fact that capitalism and markets are (mostly) good and the financial sector is necessary for keeping our social machine well oiled and running, I'd be inclined to make other readings as well.

On a side note -actually, it's not that much in the sidelines-, schools do a very poor job at pushing forward what is an extremely anti-intuitive but truthful view, first espoused by Adam Smith in The Wealth of Nations, and expressed in your own review as "You think about market participants each trying to maximize their profits, and everyone acting in their own interest ends up maximizing total welfare, and that makes sense in a zoomed-out way, and as far as I can tell is not a crazy model of the behavior of companies". But this really beggars belief until you actually see it: it feels no less stupid and false to a smart teenager than religious dogma. On the contrary, the same teenager who reads The Communist Manifesto will find a very believable narrative of the moral and economic progress of History through class conflict, and if he further pursues some basic readings (and remains, as we mostly do, economically illiterate), will also find the theory of surplus value scientific-sounding and a good basis for accusing all capitalists of being exploiters and thieves.

It is, indeed, nothing short of miraculous that individual egoisms actually end up creating a quasi-optimal arrangement for the most part, but I feel Barbarians at the Gate is mostly showing you the scenario when this doesn't actually happen. That is to say, for RJR Nabisco under Johnson's leadership, and through the LBO, it does indeed appear that (quoting you again):

- there is a CEO, who is a guy - there is a board, consisting of a bunch of guys who are friends with the CEO - they all have fiduciary duties and if they fail to meet them they will get yelled at by a judge in Delaware - ??? - shareholder value gets maximized

Love the ???. Actually, if one goes back to those dull, first chapters at the beginning of the book, we do get a glimpse of how companies manage to turn individual egoisms into positive enterprises. The book dwells a lot on the first years of Nabisco and Reynolds tobacco, on how founders made all the right choices of wise investment and expansion, use of local knowledge, ethics, hard work and know-how, treating workers and shareholders well, taking advantage of rising opportunities... It really reads like a guide on what to do, as contrasted with the relative vacuity of what Ross Johnson actually ends up doing. Does he actually create any positive value? Perhaps his best contribution is his rejection of stability and routine, a chaotic undermining of conformity which might help against the inevitable stagnation of consolidated companies, but that appears to be all he does. Yes, he charms board members and presidents, parties hard and lavishes wealth on executives and board members (including himself). on the face of it, all this doesn't seem at all better than its opposite.

I am not economically savvy enough, but moving to LBOs, I imagine one could make the case for them in that they judge company value more efficiently than markets (as seemed to be the case with the stagnantly low value of RJR Nabisco shares), and in that the debt and diet they impose on their companies trim out the fat, the redundant, the inefficient and (once the debt is paid), end with a more economically efficient company that can survive and thrive in the market better. Like all tools, though, they can be misused, making some people very rich (CEOs, their cronies and the lenders) and a lot of people quite miserable (workers and shareholders) through financial trickery and assaults orchestrated through 'phoney money'. It is all a matter of trade-offs, I guess. Still, I like some of the anti-LBO voices: even though the book has no heroes (Johnson might be an anti-hero of sorts), Ted Forstmann comes pretty close (and btw, he become a signatory of the Giving Pledge in 2011). It's a pity the way he's massacred in the movie. And crypto doesn't feel that far away from junk bonds...

The book did have some lovely snippets of humor (loved the private jet piloting Mr. G. Shepherd to safety). As for your belief that "it is reassuring that the whole system seems to kinda work anyway", I fear it seems to be the wrong lesson to learn from all of this; in fact, the book seems peppered with quotes that are the absolutely worst possible lessons one could take, most of them from the lips of Ross Johnson, about disregarding protocols, logic, reason and checks and balances. Your final quote about rows of figures with millions of dollars that no one knows the proper meaning of is actually quite an ominous note to end the review with, a precursor to the apparently very lax and chaotic management of vastly superior sums of money in FTX and Alameda.

Quote:

"It all started with a small lemonade stand in Manitoba,” read one Johnson parody. “The next thing I knew I had sold my mother. The rest was easy.”

P.S.: Among the things you mention that motivate you, "making guys think I am attractive" seems particularly ill-phrased. You are incredibly attractive, Caroline (both as a person and as a woman), so there should be little need of persuasion, except we usually find that these truths and feelings are seldom commutative.

#caroline ellison #books #economics #barbarians at the gate

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wander-wren · 5 months

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*holds up shield* don’t throw things at me but i have actually developed nuanced opinions on AI over the past couple of months. imagine that. but this isn’t a post about those nuanced opinions! i can get into them later

this is a post where i reluctantly went to chatgpt to perform An Experiment, because if there’s one thing i love it’s writing-related data and making fun of bad writing guilt-free. and now that i’m not ideologically opposed with every atom of my body to AI i can do that!

i chose to give ai one of my older fics (from 2022), both because it was short enough for the text box and because, given all the scraping drama, ai probably already has it anyway. i was very tempted to put in something original, but i haven’t yet.

then i asked it, first, to write something mimicking that style, to….horrible results. i also asked it to write a sequel to the fic, because i had written a sequel myself. i got….interesting results from that. i have some thoughts on how ai writes, what it could be used for, and what it should almost definitely not be used for.

let’s get into it!

so, to start off, i used my raven cycle fic hostage situation. it’s not my best, being both old and written in like an hour for whumptober, but it’s not the worst.

when i asked chatgpt to mimic the style, i expected it to create something similar (this was a kidnapping with torture h/c fic, so something like that) and to do its very best to write something that sounded like a thing i would write. you know, like the ai art that puts in specific artists’ names to get something like their style.

i did not get that. maybe i would have if i had given it a more specific prompt, like, write a story about X in the style of this story, but i didn’t and i don’t really want to go back to chatgpt again, so just…shh. this was still a useful exercise, i promise!

let’s start by looking at the openings of each piece.

first of all, it chose to change the names and some more specific details, but literally nothing else. also love how it switches from ronnie (ronan?) to theo (gansey) almost immediately and there is cassie (noah) and cassie (adam).

also they made my gay fic hetero. alright.

also, this introduces a theme that we see throughout this endeavor. the ai has little to no idea what trc is or who the characters are (actually it has no idea what anything is, i shouldn’t anthropomorphize, but it doesnt have enough data to pick up on patterns like it might with, say, MCU fic). therefore, it ruins one of my favorite things about writing fic, especially for trc, and that is making dozens of subtle references that probably most other fans would even miss.

for example, right here we have references to ronan’s never-ending battle with his phone, his father’s death, and, if you squint, that One Line that goes “jesus,” gansey said, “christ.” which i have heard talked about a few times and lives in my head rent free. i’m sure no one else thinks about it that much, but it’s a very specific inflection and i love it.

the one (1) thing i will say is that “theo’s breath catches” is totally something i would write, and the ai didn’t copy it from this fic. i mean, it’s still pretty generic, but it kinda feels house style-y to me. hm.

continuing on! let’s see what the video is

so basically it stripped out all the fun description. incredibly rude, this was my favorite part to write. again, i’m wondering if there’s something significant about changing “guy who had to be rescued” to a girl.

there’s also a lot of confusion on like, what’s happening and why on the ai’s side. it’s copying my words, but cutting a lot, so there’s no reason for, say, the villain commenting in her mental faculties—she didn’t seem disoriented before, and she hasn’t done anything now to prompt the remark. also, we “see” cassie and then the newspaper gets pulled away to “reveal” her. it’s very messy. we also don’t get cassie telling theo not to come for her, something that is pretty important in adam’s case, mr. self-sacrifice, lover of ronan.

what happens when boyfriend comes to the rescue?

sorry i’m laughing because theo is still gansey in my head and him having like, full tattoo sleeves is Sending Me.

once again, cutting out the good description and making it all generic. this part makes sense, at least, but it’s less interesting. the best parts are the dialogue and THE DIALOGUE IS MINE. verbatim.

the line “time blurs since the video, her only link to theo gone” is grammatically incorrect or at the very least clunky. idk why that got changed.

changed the lastname-firstname switch that is so very important to pynch. kay.

obviously theo isnt ronan and this technically isnt fanfic so we lose the kavinsky/matthew reference, even though that adds depth to the scene when you remember that almost exactly this thing has happened to ronan with someone he loves before, so this has to be very fraught for him.

let’s finish up with the ending!

so this part doesn’t make any sense in the EXTREMELY limited context of the ai’s story. at the very beginning, it said that one of the three has the ability to manipulate illusions (which in itself is a bit odd—shouldn’t it be create illusions? or can you only manipulate illusions that are already there? that’s not very useful), but that doesn’t have anything to do with violence. is the implication that our dear friends [checks notes] ronnie and cassie2 did this??

the implication in the original fic is that ronan used dream creatures or something similar; it’s his subconscious, not technically his own work depending on how you look at it. i don’t believe ronan would commit violence like this where adam could see (hence why he wanted adam not to look) because of adam’s history of abuse, but ronan also has a lot of anger and a lot of monsters in his head and a lot of love for adam. so.

because this is fanfic, i don’t have to spell any of that out. it just is. but in the ai’s story it doesn’t know why or how that part exists, it just copies it.

and then basic ending where the ai says the quiet/implied part out loud. boring.

it should also be noted that chatgpt generated stories only clock in at around 600 words. the three screenshots here are almost all of that generation, while my fic is almost twice as long.

so my main takeaway here, aside from “chatgpt is bad at my favorite part of fanfic” as i said, is that chatgpt can’t really effectively mimic a writing style that isn’t generic or very close to it, because of the whole “most likely word” thing. and if your style is very generic than other human people already write a lot like you and/or could mimic you very easily.

i don’t have an outside perspective on what makes my fics recognizably mine (tell me?), but i’ve had a lot of people comment on the way i describe emotions. which is cool, because i love doing that. i like implying things with body language (especially focusing on where someone is/isn’t looking) even more than directly describing what people are feeling. the ai’s style is very much about stating directly what characters feel, often to the point of redundancy, a huge pet peeve of mine.

so yeah, not uber useful for fanfic writing. tumblr photo limits prevent me from continuing with the second experiment (writing a sequel to this fic), but i’ll be back in a hot second to write that one.

#wren wrambles #gonna put all my proper tags on the reblog

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daydreamodyssey · 6 months

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This ended up being longer than I planned, so I'm sorry beforehand. It was about a whatever video of a girl using heightism, saying something stupid but possibly insidious, and me reflecting on our culture toward smallness, particularly with men and how it deals with gender.

(There's a fun present for those who read the whole thing, I promise!)

I saw a tiktok of a girl candidly and cheerfully saying she'd never date a short guy (5'8 or below, she was 5'2) because of a Napoleon complex.

Standard stuff, though still crossing into prejudice.

But then she goes off, in a chipper mood, about deleting them. That really stuck with me.

Best scenario, she just means deleting them off dating sites. Which is still crass and wouldn't fly if she said something similar about other attributes.

Worst scenario, which wouldn't be the first time I heard it, she means literally and physically delete them. She was talking to a guy out on the streets too, so this isn't done terminally online jerk. A lot of women saying they want men dead isn't cute or funny.

I hope people understand that having a preference or having a bad history with whatever group are different than this rhetoric. Even if that person can control something, as opposed to the near permanence of height, it shouldn't mean this group is inherently bad. The issue is the personality, not how long your limbs are or what genes you have. It's a really weird bioessentialism that says if you look different than your gender norm, you are a suspect and a creep in waiting.

There's also this other connection with many men smaller than (the US) average being men of color, which can have a racist and nativist tone. And since height can be affected by the environment, along with making many short people less likely to have high paying jobs and roles, there's probably a classist element, too. A lot of trans men are also short if you want to include transphobia, who already get barely any acknowledgement about how they're treated.

With a lot of women saying "it's in our genes or brains," and one I saw saying for short men to Stay In The Gym, there is this unspoken rule that men MUST be large and dominant or they're not seriously men. With the whole obsession over genetics and strong men, there is a dangerous overlap with trad and fascist ideals, especially with how radical right wing propaganda works (in the 30s/40s and now with the Chad Trad shit).

I don't think a lot of people, men or women, consciously think about this stuff. They could just be shallow assholes. But smallness is almost always seen as infantilism or criminality with no nuance in humanizing, let alone respect as lovers and workers. Maybe there's some taboo part of our private brain that still latches onto "big = strong against predators and rivals" and we don't want to admit and question it like with women and how we judge their looks.

When people say Napoleon complex, it's always vague, like it can mean anything from being aggressive to just being confident to someone taller. It doesn't mean anything and it just causes a Catch 22; you either accept your place on the arbitrary social ladder or you're insecure and in the spotlight. You can't win because you're not supposed to win.

For every short jerk, there's also a tall jerk. A tall jerk who has popularity, fans, girls, money, and literally more weight to throw around. Am I surprised there's a preference? No. I can still be upset about it because I'm human and I'm naturally going to be mad at things that feel unfair and need leverage. And I'm going to be upset when it feels ignored or derided because people don't want to admit they have biases that are more socially acceptable. I'm going to be upset that I and others who are around my height or even shorter have to push limits every day just be treated equally. I can't imagine having dwarfism and seeing these videos or hearing others on the street.

I hear pretty much everything from "short men are rapists for wanting women to be attracted to them" to eugenics and wanting us just dead. There's definitely other traits that compound the toll on a person (weight for myself) that can be greater or lesser, but it's definitely consistent and I've been seeing it rise over the years after some acceptance in the mid '10s.

We need to have honest conversations and reflections about our relationship with size and what it means to be a man. If you want to abolish the patriarchy but still insult a guy because he doesn't look as big and strong and dominant as other men, then you're playing the same side as the men in power or manosphere chuds. The amount of radfems I see hating short men is honestly funny. Like there's no tall misogynists or abusers out there.

If short men, or just A short man messed you up, I'm sorry you had to go through that. But it wasn't like he was infected with the Small Virus, he might've been just a jerk, the same way tall people might be jerks. Just understand that you're overlooking many people because of a bad experience and how dangerously close that mentality is when applying to other people, or toward yourself.

If you read long enough, I congratulate you, and I offer you this one hell of a title I saw in a flea market the other day.

#heightism #short men #social justice #toxic masculinity

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