So. For people who are not Ethoslab watchers, in his most recent episode he showed off these beautiful statues Joel supposedly made of Etho in front of his house.
I figured Joel built them, and it seems Etho did too, because he sent Joel a message via mail about them.
This note... honestly surprised me a bit? I didn't think much of it at first, but the tone of it felt out of place. Obviously these two have this ongoing bit of being obsessed with each other, and they've done nothing recently but yes-and to the sun about it. This note seems to almost shut this bit down, saying "this bit hasn't gone too far yet, because I'm showing this on camera, but it's getting there." Which is a possible explanation for this note! But considering all they've done recently it feels very sudden.
And then. Joel claimed to not have built the statues. "Oh," I thought. "Joel is claiming not to have built the statues because he doesn't want to seem obsessed." Makes sense. Or maybe he *didn't* build the statues and someone is pranking them. That also makes sense.
But it was only when watching Joel talk about it on Impulse's stream, when I heard Joel say "honestly, I think Etho might have done it," that it clicked.
Oh.
This motherfucker.
He 100% did. That's why the message is so weird. Ethoslab built statues of himself outside Joel's base, messaged him via mail saying "that's kinda weird bro" and then DIDN'T EVER REVEAL THAT HE BUILT THEM. Oh my god THIS MAN...
From Etho's audience's perspective it just looks like Joel was continuing being obsessed with Etho, as usual, just another example in a long list. But *Joel* knows he didn't do that and *Etho* knows Joel will figure out who did. This mischievous motherfucker. Oh my godddd I hate them. Listening to him read back the note with that little smile in his voice. I am unwell. Why are they LIKE this
"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."
"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.
"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.
"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"
"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.
"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."
"This is where I live."
"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"
"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"
"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."
"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."
"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."
"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"
"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"
"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"
"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"
"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"
"Please, call me Bruce."
"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."
Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.
"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."
The shadow hanging over his shoulder: [Gets its teeth dangerously close to Damian's shoulder]
Damian: [Shoves a toothbrush into said shadow move and starts brush]
The shadow: [Pauses before starting to let out a contented purr]
Damian then spits out the foam and washes out his mouth, then makes the shadow do the same and then picks out pjs.
Damian: [Currently decided if he should go with the cat, dog, or knife imprinted one]
The shadow: [Starts getting dangerously close to Damian with, toxic green spirals it calls eyes]
Damian: [Throws the dog imprinted one behind him at the shadow and takes the cat imprinted one for himself and tells the shadow to put it on]
The shadow: [Stares at the clothes before hesitantly putting them on before letting out a noise of distress]
Damian: [Turning around to find the shadow somehow stuck in the pjs, lets out a sigh, then starts to help them fit]
Damian then moves over to the bed, he points to one side and tells the shadow to go there. The shadow listens, laying down as Damian also lays down, grabbing the sheets and covering them both.
It barely took a few seconds for the shadow to fall asleep, and Damian stared at it. Damian wasn't quite sure why the shadow of his dead twin was following him, nor why it was even able to and seemed to hide itself from anyone who isn't Damian.
Nobody besides him knew about it, and Damian decided that he liked it. This could have been his younger brother, if the other had survived, and they would have probably been told to fight to the death to decide an heir.
At the very least, that won't ever happen.
Even if his brother was slightly unusual.
===
Danny did not remember much of the before, he remembered people with blurred faces and features, blurred colors. He remembered a lot of colors, then red, then white, then pain.
He doesn't like pain, he believes.
Then he remembered going to sleep, and then he woke up. It was dark and slimy and cramped when he woke up, especially when he realized someone else was in their with him.
Then he fell asleep again, then woke up to that same dark and slimy place, then fell asleep again, all in some weird cycle. Then, moving, and pain.
It hurt, and he was sluggish when it eventually stopped. Then came pain again, and he was asleep.
Then he woke up, again.
He didn't know what was happening, wasn't really aware of too. But he woke up next to the other who was in that dark and slimy with him, and decided he wanted to stay with them.
He wasn't aware enough for most of the things that happened when Damian grew up, but he still stayed regardless, and hide from everyone else.
Danny loves his brother, and he thinks his brother loves him too. Even if he was slightly unusual.
Thinking about Carpe Diem and the cinematography of falling leaves to falling snow.
Seasons as cyclical as generations. It's tapestries and banners. It’s photographs on the wall. A structure, a system; tradition in the bones of buildings and boys.
There's a choice to be made - Nolan's hollow, ceremonial Light of Knowledge, or Neil's scavenged, man-made God of the Cave?
They’re children living for the future through a lens of past. Fireside stories embraced by woodland caves. They chant, dance, and recite from a sacred book - the heirloom they claim from a father they chose.
The window is finally open, but time froze at Welton lake. Forever winter. Forever youth. A moment in time, a feeling, a community turned to dust.
It's all so fleeting. Carpe Diem. Teenage years, childhood, a lifetime in three months. It’s a tragedy of classical epics.
The tale is old, but this wound is fresh. Falling to your knees. Shouting at the sky, praying and wailing, and clutching at the earth.
Tango and GeminiTay visit Etho post-charity stream travel while Grian interacts via chat. Etho says he and Joel were alone all week and everybody teases him.
19 minutes into Tango's "I AM THE MASTER" stream, April 2024
Transcript:
Tango: So, Etho, what did you do all week by yourself? Were you lonely?
Etho: Dude, it was so dead on this server-
Tango: It was so quiet! I know.
Gem, overlapping: Did you miss us?
Tango, overlapping: He DID! He did!
Gem: Awww!
Etho: A little bit... It was just like- It was like Joel and me, and...................... and that was about it... And Cub came back eventually.
Gem, overlapping: Of COURSE you mention Joel first.
Gem: Not your neighbor, Cub. JOEL. Joel's top of the list.
Etho: But I couldn't even go see Joel because it would've been awkward to, like... just be alone.
Gem: You poor thing...
Tango, reading Grian's message in chat: 'Joel is enough for you.' Yeah...... I see more statues popping up- Who's making them?
Etho: Not me! Okay, something weird is going on- I don't know the deal behind it-
Tango, laughing: Uh-huh...
Etho: I've made two statues... Total.
Tango: Which ones did you make?
Etho: The Joel one... and the other one's... a secret.
[End]
Next, Tango and Gem tease Etho because they're pretty sure the other statues he built are the giant Etho statues, implied to be something he put in front of Joel's base himself. Etho says this is "not confirmed in his video."
Publishing has always been a fucking nightmare, but now it’s a layer of hell. It’s not enough that writers be good at what they do. Writers have to maintain an active social media presence and cultivate a following. Be available.
They have to be conventionally attractive enough to look good enough to see on a screen, aesthetically pleasing, kind, funny, up-to-date on trends, socially aware but not so controversial that they turn off a brand from California from slapping their discount code on a video promoting a book.
They have to do all of this with no media training, with little help from the companies that are supposed to be doing this for them.
Of course, a lot of this isn't possible for say, the 40-something mother of two who teaches English at a school and writes on the side. She’s boxed out of an already complex industry that already has enough walls.
On some level, I think authors have always marketed themselves a little, but we’ve reached such a crazy point where we’re demanding the author become the influencer. Accessibility in publishing has narrowed from an inch to a sliver. And that inch was hard enough to get in as is.
someone has to say it. etho is a horrifically unreliable narrator. probably as much as scar is. he’s just sneakier about it so people are less likely to expect it and more likely to fall for his facades