#it is only a component

[chadillacboseman]

Does Jesse feel love? Like is he capable of it?

This is an interesting question that requires a complex answer, so I apologize for the rambling.

Jesse suffered from severe head trauma as a teenager when he was in a car accident. This accident gave him a traumatic brain injury and resulted in a trigger of borderline personality disorder and damage to his anterior insular cortex when blood buildup put pressure on the area. Part of Jesse's skull is artificial due to this accident. Add in long tours overseas while in the Marines that gave him PTSD and, well, you've got a lot going on.

Jesse struggles with empathizing with others, but I would not say he's entirely devoid of empathy. He does not care about most people he meets, not because he sees them as 'pawns' or targets for manipulation, but rather he just...does not see them at all. Sometimes he sees himself as an outsider and is jealous of those who have support systems or loved ones. Losing his brother, his one steadfast tether to normalcy and structure, was a big trigger for him. Jesse now stands as the last of the Geller line, and he is painfully aware of his own mortality. Hence the Malleus exoskeleton, the constant upgrades to his forces, and the hunger for money. He will do anything to prolong his mortal life and his seat at the top of the food chain.

I wouldn't even call him a narcissist, because he certainly is not. He isn't surprised when he experiences consequences (just angry, usually), and while he can be charming, he hates doing it and, again, can struggle finding the will to empathize with the target of it.

Now, as for the love question-

Jesse loved his brother and his parents, certainly, but his love looks a little different than one might expect. He feels very strong waves of emotion that oscillate wildly to different ends of the spectrum. Anger is his most common and easily triggered- he is prone to blackout periods during which he cannot remember his whereabouts or his actions for extended periods of time. The rigid structure of the military and his brother's command of RCMG gave him outside control that helped keep him in check; that coupled with a medication regimen that Jason heavily enforced, gave him some regulation of his emotions and behavior. Jason's death made him lose all of that, and now he's been thrust into command of a massive private military operation and he is the control, which is ...not working out.

Jesse's love might look like an obsessive devotion, a willingness to kill for someone, but a constant fear of being left alone that just might piss him off or cause him to become paranoid and accusatory. It might look like an all-consuming fixation that eats at him until it is unbearable. Or, he might just love someone 'normally' (whatever that means lol) depending on the circumstances surrounding his life at the time.

All of this is to say: his injuries and disorders do not excuse his fucked up behavior. He is very aware of the fact that what he's doing is wrong, though his victim complex is still quite strong. He knows he should take his medication. He knows he should try to enforce structure in his life and get his shit together.

He does not want to.

Jesse does also have a sadistic streak, which you can glimpse in a few of my works of him. People who he perceives as having wronged him in some way are often on the receiving end of whatever pain he can cause them. He likes to wield fear as a weapon, and nothing instills fear in your enemies and your own men quite like murder. Remorse doesn't often come to him for these acts, because, in his mind, he was wronged first. It's his right to take his pound of flesh (or litre of blood).

Thank you for listening to my rambling.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[thecabbagecrow]

ayYO i heard we're bringing gemstuck back?? i've had this spider8reath fusion design in my back pocket for a while now, finally got the motivation to do it ::::)

gemstuck au/john and vriska designs by @chrisrin

[normal-about-the-dca]

Mermaid DCA? On my blog? It's more likely than you think!

Grab the public models on VRChat under the read more!

The avatars are public on VRChat here and here if you want them!

Also more pictures my friends and I took :]

[a-sunlighthouse-lamp]

Tmagp 31 has already killed me I fear, I’ve already forced two unsuspecting victims (aka friends) to listen to a man get slurped up by a computer

[radiantmists]

the whole "it would be kinder to kill them" exchange re-contextualizes murderbot's initial willingness-- even eagerness-- to kill other SecUnits in an interesting way, doesn't it.

[venvellan]

dammon this zevlor that, okay i guess i'll carry the entire rolan fandom on my back. god and faerun should thank their incredibly lucky stars he's not recruitable. if i had him it would do irreparable damage to the trajectory of time and fabric of the universe. the horrible plague that would claim the land. that is my motherfucking wizard

[bogusbyron]

stex bits and bobs, & my components designs. ive actually changed a couple of them slightly since i did those refs LOL but theres no huge changes, krupp just has different makeup & his outfit shape resembles OBC a bit more.

plus the usual cheater boys stuff cause uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[erinoneilsgf]

“spell components are stupid,” i say into the mic.

the crowd boos. i begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.

“she’s right,” it says. i look for the owner of the voice. there in the second row stands: anthony burch.

[whatwooshkai]

Lucky Number 7!

"Designation?"

"Chase."

Chase keeps his finials pinned flat against his helm, doorwings wide and fanned to keep the bot behind him from getting too close, which they have been for the past five minutes.

He has a vibroknife in his subspace. He'd rather not use it- you can only make a first impression once.

The femme flips through a datapad until her optics go wide. "Oh," she murmurs, the dangling jewelry from her finials making a loud ting! when they flatten to her helm. "Oh, you're one of those. Hang on."

Chase's optic twitches. He is normally very good at keeping his emotions in check, and no one who knows him has ever seen his temper, and that's the way he wants to keep it.

But if one more bot refers to him as "one of those" he's going to do something stupid.

Chase hates doing stupid things.

"Okay, I got you right here!" The femme gives him a sheepish smile as she hands over a pair of keycards. "There was an issue with organizing the dorms this year. Normally you'd be put with other bots in your track but you ended up in the randomized group, so you'll be staying with a few bots from other tracks. That's not a problem, is it?"

Chase's finials lift slightly away from his helm. "That is fine," he says, accepting the cards. That is... probably for the best, actually. "Thank you."

"No problem!" the femme says brightly. "So you're in room 704. Elevators are on your left. Next!"

Chase shuffles away from the table, readjusting the bag he has slung over his shoulder, eyeing the key cards in his hand.

Primus, when was the last time he met new people?

The elevator is blessedly empty when he steps inside, and so is the hallway as he follows it down to his room. Well, he was in one of the last groups to check in, so that's expected.

The door has four slots for name tags, as all of the ones in this hallway do. Only two have been filled in so far, for mechs "Boulder" and "Heatwave". Both have little drawings on them, one better than the other's. However, both seem to have identical handwriting... interesting.

So it seems only two have checked in. Maybe he'll have a choice of berth, then.

Chase swipes the key card and gently opens the door.

There's two sets of bunk berths, a desk in front and behind each one. None seem to have been claimed, but on the left, there's a bag tossed on the top bunk and a few posters plastered up already, and some blankets and pillows piled up. And on the right, there's a bag on the bottom bunk, and-

Oh. He's being glared at.

"Another one?" the mech mutters, green optics narrowed at Chase. He's orange a white, with a scar cutting down through one optic. He looks about Chase's age. "'Oh, we'll get you your own room, Blades'! my aft. Mechs walking in every five minutes," he huffs.

Chase frowns. "The attitude is hardly appropriate," he says, and the mech's optics suddenly go wide, as if he thought Chase couldn't hear him.

He mutters something unintelligible and then turns over on his side, revealing a pair of rotors. A flight frame, then.

Blades. His name wasn't on the door.

Chase looks around at the other bags. So his choice has been made for him, then. As usual.

He sets his bag down on the berth to the left, projecting his calendar up on the wall. And then he sits.

He's not really sure what to do now. Conversation is not really an option, what with the less-than-warm welcome, and he has no need to explore the city he grew up in.

Well, that’s a bit of a stretch. He mostly grew up in various facilities around the city, but he spent enough time out on the streets to know it.

Besides… he’d really rather not risk running into his batch. Not alone, at least.

Even though his coding cries for them, his frame hurts without them, he couldn’t get out of berth for several days after they were officially separated-

He’s better now. He has to be better.

He’s never had to try and make new friends. He’s never had to make friends, period. Chase can’t remember the last time he met someone new before this week.

But it can’t be that hard, can it? Sure, this Blades is… hostile… but maybe the others are a little more friendly!

Speaking of- someone decides to kick the door open at that very moment.

Blades looks up, and slight relief teeks through his field as he lies back down. So one of the mechs on the door, then.

Heatwave, he imagines- only because the mech is hot.

He stops a few feet from Chase once he lays optics on him, but Chase can feel the heat he gives off from here. That has to be unnatural, surely. Even Ultra Magnus, the largest mech he’s ever met, did not give off that much heat.

Beyond the odd temperature, the mech looks friendly enough. He’s red, with bright and warm yellow optics, and twin scars cutting up one cheek. In his arms are a plethora of cubes and energon sweets, several shoved in his mouth as well.

He mumbles something Chase can’t make out around the food in his mouth, then tosses a cube at Blades. The flight frame mutters some kind of thanks, and the mech turns back to Chase.

He shuffles his items into one arm and offers a hand to Chase. He once again speaks, presumably introducing himself, but Chase can’t understand a word he says.

He takes his hand and shakes it. “You really shouldn’t speak with your mouth full,” he says.

Yellow optics narrow at him. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” he snaps. There’s a thick accent there that the universal translator is doing its best to suppress. “I asked for your name.”

Chase’s doorwings flick and the mech’s optics only follow them for a second before training on Chase’s face again. “Chase,” he says. “I will have to ask you for yours again, I did not understand you. Also, please let go of my hand.”

“Heatwave.” A correct guess, then. Chase’s doorwings raise slightly, but Heatwave’s gaze doesn’t shift to them again. Instead, he keeps his optics trained on Chase’s face, who looks away from the optic contact. He does release Chase’s hand, though. “You should check out the mess hall,” he says, moving his quarry back to both arms. “Never seen so much fuel in my life.”

Chase watches him in mild fascination as he figures out how to climb the ladder of the bunk without dropping any of the cubes, and from there Chase can’t see what he does with them.

So he’s expected to go collect his own ration. Good to know.

…He should be trying to make more conversation, right? Blades might be a lost cause but Heatwave at least introduced himself.

He just… doesn’t know what to do from here. Should he ask what track Heatwave is in? He can guess, from the paint job, but would Heatwave even entertain that? He’s sure he knows what Chase is here for, and has thankfully not said anything derogatory about it… yet.

It’s not wrong to expect it to happen eventually, right?

Then he realizes something. “Where are the washracks?”

Heatwave leans out over the top of the bunk. “Hallway.”

Chase frowns. “Why?”

“What, never been in a communal wash rack before?” Heatwave asks, an oddly aggressive tone to his voice. “This ain’t no prissy enforcer academy, Chase. You’ll hafta get used to other mechs in your space.”

Oh, that accent is really coming out now. Chase wishes he could place it. “It is not a problem,” he growls, though it is… not ideal. The idea of sharing washracks with anyone other than his batch makes his plating crawl. He doesn’t appreciate the attitude, though.

“Whatever you say.” Heatwave leans back.

Okay. So far, his roommates are violently antisocial and rude. Wonderful.

It is now that the fourth roommate decides to show themselves, and Chase braces himself for the worst.

They gently push the door open, holding a datapad. They’re green and far more heavyset than any of the others, though Heatwave comes close. Blue optics widen at him. “Hello,” they say, in very thickly accented Common.

No universal translator, then. Interesting.

“Hello,” Chase says back, offering his hand. “Chase.”

“Boulder.” So that’s all four. Good. “I am… stop by for my datapad. Good to meet you.”

“And you.” Primus almighty, Chase wishes he’d met someone who wasn’t Iaconian before today, because all these new accents, and he can’t place a single one. Maybe if he knew what their mother language is, he could speak to them better? “If you speak in your native language, I can still understand it,” Chase says, tapping his throat.

“I know,” Boulder says. “But I like to make the effort.”

“Okay.”

Boulder turns away from him and grabs the datapad from their bag, before offering everyone a wave and leaving again.

Chase sits down on his berth again. Boulder seems nice.

…This might not be so bad.

[wackywatchdotcom]

hm..... pomni taking peoples hand as a repeating image in the show..... happens in ep 1, with ragatha, its kinda evoked with her reaching for the final exit door, ep 2 is pretty blatant with it i dont need to say anything else on that, and in episode 3 the scene with kinger..... episode 4 doesnt have anything with this i dont think (i COULD technically say her raising her hand at the beginning of the ep but that is a MASSIVE stretch and doesnt fit with what the other instances seem to be representing. her waving at gummigoo MAYBE but the image just really isnt present in the episode, looking at it realistically) but im thinking about this...... cus i feel like its probably notable in the dream sequence in ep 2 that its her arm that gets all fucked up

[youling-the-ghost]

my attempts to photograph the blood moon were unfortunately futile (for the most part) because I severely underestimated the importance of using a tripod but they lowkey still look kinda cool so I'm still gonna post them here

(plus a couple of bonus photos that aren't of the blood moon)

[allinsideyourhead]

Paul Simon and Art “there is no gay component in the two of us that I am aware of” Garfunkel Valentine’s Day post.

[communistkenobi]

I don’t like when people ask how many books you plan to read/have read this year one because I think that’s a weird relationship to have to books and two because I think even reading a chapter or a portion of something is valuable. this is especially true with non-fiction but even with fiction I think any amount you read, even if you don’t read the entire thing, is not a failure or ‘incomplete’

[neonhellscape]

The towering creature comprised primarily of metal spikes looks at you with its nine optics.

[whetstonefires]

You know, I've been thinking about it, and it is absolutely essential to the narrative that Jiang Cheng is a dick and a trash fire. (Affectionate.)

Like, first of all, if he was a sainted little angel of a shidi the way Jiang Yanli is a shijie, Wei Wuxian's choices would become obvious, sort of impersonal, and boring.

Sure, lots of people wouldn't tear themselves apart for such a person in such a scenario, but they're not the protagonists of novels, are they; in a book you have to justify not doing that. So white lotus Jiang Cheng is off the table.

Jiang Cheng who isn't fragile-and-insecure but also stubborn-as-hell and violently reactive also won't wash.

If he wasn't the kind of person who sincerely tries to die under these circumstances, Wei Wuxian would have had the option of loyally supporting him in a less self-destructive way; if he was someone who could be trusted to handle the revelation without suffering a ruinous fracture of identity, Wei Wuxian wouldn't have been forced to distance himself after the war, because he could have come clean.

If Jiang Cheng wasn't the kind of person who centers on his own pride and hurt feelings and lashes out about it, it would be very hard to set up the lategame scenario where they're 'enemies' in a real, meaningful way, despite still loving each other and Wei Wuxian never wishing Jiang Cheng any ill. Even with Jiang Yanli's death.

And I mean, you could get most of the plot without doing this interesting thematic examination of the classic 'bond between martial brothers severed by one going to the dark side' trope, but I'd argue you'd lose an enormous chunk of the story.

And without Jiang Cheng's weaknesses, Wei Wuxian's motives don't cohere. His weaknesses form the foundation of at least two of the backstory's major turning points.

There's the tantalizing possibility that Wei Wuxian wouldn't have done it, if Jiang Cheng hadn't strangled him while blaming him for everything.

Probably he would have, all else being equal! But neither we nor Jiang Cheng can be sure.

Jiang Cheng sucking a lot, and knowing his own flaws perfectly well without that granting him the ability to do much about them, is heavily load-bearing. Which gives him such a fantastic implied point of view!