#manythoughts

[materialki77-blog]

I have so many thoughts 😐 but I'm going to play it through again on another character to get the full gist. My main thought boils down to, the story has definitely moved into a new chapter, they HEAVILY hinted to something, but there's still a ton that hadn't been cleared up.

[pespillo]

absolute nonsense bonkers diagrams in which i refuse to elaborate anything on it because it simply is something i wanna explain to myself later

[adhdo5]

transfem jin zixuan is seemly a somewhat widespread concept, what do you think of it?

I'm gonna be honest with u anon I do not think very much about Jin Zixuan TT-TT All respect for those who do but I am not among them...

I support this ideologically though. I think I've seen it esp wrt JYL helping her out in her early transition and I think that goes hard the thing abt Xuanli is that for it to be good it needs to happen on their actual terms and I don't think any version of canon convinces me it does (which is also compelling and theme-relevant but like, not a good ending in tht way I think!); this eventuality however Absolutely does convince me of that and I think it's quite joyous :D

[danganphobia]

thinking about the inu-oh movie and how little is known about him but i think toshiro would've loved that movie. he definitely would show it to laios and tell him more about the culture of noh theater and the tales of the heike and how there were divers back then who were paid to swim beneath the sea and find important artifacts for the imperial court.

and imagine how cool it would be for the dungeon party to fight yokai in the eastern lands mononoke style. like dude. the massive potential. the epic tales toshiro would tell him.

[marokra]

i have sosososoooo many thoughts and they’re all bouncing around my brain like autism marbles

[lunawish]

few3h has the better edelgard imho because it shoes even without byleth she can still have meaningful relationships with people. she isn't keeping people in the same arms length distance as she was in houses. in houses, the game's narrative depicts it as without byleth, she's completely and utterly isolated with only hubert at her side.

i honestly do honest to god (i gotta say honest as many times as i can lmao) am of the belief that monica von ochs is so, so, so important to her character. monica in hopes is constantly thinking about edelgard and her heart — it's not just her goals (which hubert will want to fulfill at any cost necessary) that monica's concerned about but how she doesn't actually want that much bloodshed. it's about her taking care of herself and taking breaks. she and hubert look after different aspects of edelgard : and ironically, both can prove ... suffocating at times.

without monica in houses, byleth becomes that "heart" for her. byleth is the only person she could connect and confide in wholly and even then, she does so cautiously. monica devotes herself to edelgard wholeheartedly. it doesn't matter what path edelgard chooses, monica will follow. byleth can end up choosing a path so oppositional from edelgard's that it ultimately result in her dying.

not to mention, in hopes , pretty much regardless of routes, she will try to rescue her allies — and she will do her best to keep them alive. ladislava and randolph dies in crimson flower, and whilst randolph can only be kept alive thru a very specific situation in hopes, there's still something to be said about how we can keep both those generals alive in scarlet blaze.

it's not shez who's the one that makes the huge impact in her character, it's monica. monica sees her, the real edelgard. the edelgard who likes sweets, who likes bergamot tea, who likes nature, etc etc but somehow still regards her with the reverence of an emperor. it doesn't really compute in her mind how monica can hold both realities.

anyways, tangent aside ... i just think monica is so incredibly important to her and i just think about how in houses, she probably looked at the "monica" they rescued and hoped for a miracle that it was the monica she knew and that they weren't too late. but she knew they were when "monica" spoke, when monica called her 'edel' because the real monica would never.

saving monica in hopes prompts her to remove TWSITD from her allies and claim adrestia as her own. she unshackled herself from Thales, who was posing as her uncle in public. in contrast, when we learn that monica isn't actually monica but kronya in houses, we see edelgard erring more on the side of caution with TWSITD. she begrudgingly allies with them, utilize their horrific magic that she too, was a victim of. but she has to because there's no such thing as a miracle. saving monica was her taking action to make a miracle happen.

[theiloveyousong]

i miss failure

[terminal-doll-theatre]

these are kinda Wonkysilly bc moving to a new laptop makes drawing and having it come out the way i want to awkward for now and i'm nooooot wholly Happy with them but throws clara and doren doodles down and walks off. we'll get back into the swing of things soon prommy

i have manythoughts scattered about somewhere, but mostly it boils down to Clara Wants Doren To Be Her Dad But She's Never Had One Of Those Before So She Gets A Little Confused. Doren is guilty of terrible terrible favouritism like so many english teachers before him and despite never FULLY crossing the line consistently manages to be Kind Of Weird And Intense A Lot. I'll have to go into more detail another time but it's just. W e i r d. Very much leaning into the vibe of You Can't Fuck Doren But You SURE CAN Go To Their Flat Every Day and Shower There.

[moved-to-connorology]

hankcon aquarium date #manythoughts

[peddlestox-shinyrocks]

Logstin! Manylips need flap but Peddlestox is much fulljoy!

Peddlestox fargo on the farsea to what Brightfolk call Tural! Will talk about Smallfolk at soontime (tallfluffies so cute!), but Peddlestox saw greatthing:

MOBBIES! Gobfolk live here! Though called Mobfolk. And Peddlestox can live at the longstop! As Potsworn!

...Peddlestox too see Uplander... ...Quickneed send note to Inxli for manythoughts!!!!

for @mimble-sparklepudding to brighten their day

who is this uplander I wonder...

also I want these houses to live in pls; you have no idea how happy I was to see Moblins and this village when I was going through on Xyn

I had to get Kwas here; full stop

[shoezuki]

Insane about Aha!Sampo and how he almost but doesn't understand being mortal, how he has trauma but don't understand or how he's trying to get Gepard's attention but in an almost human manner but just too far to the left

Doctor Sampo and Gepard having to learn to meet each other in the middle and how they are both Hypocrites yet trying to get there (I've only gotten to chapter 4 so there's definitely more Im just being slow T^T)

fjfkdbffhrirk fuckfuckfuck i have SO MANY thoughts bout aha!sampo and his position as a former? god in that he like. is absolutely human but not. and he has experienced some fuckery. like he went thru a shit childhood w the masked fools and their fucked up 'audition' process. but he is so unaware of human experiences n what it means to be mortal he doesnt realize how hes been traumatized by it. like i have. so manythoughts. waouadgh.

and im so glad u dig the doctor fic its my child. my pride and joy my sweet baby. it really is like. the cumulation of why i like sampard. cuz they are such opposing forces yet so so so stubborn and set in their ways. and they cannot change but they CAN adapt n learn to bend towards one another and find comfort in one another. i love love love the idea of like. theyre typical dynamic the whole cop and robber thing. and them being together without actually completely changing yknow? like sampo doesnt need to become law abiding and gepard doesnt need to give up his job for them to make it work. like the idea that rather than having to completely change urself for someone else u manage to make it work out of mutual love n a desire to be together n understand one another idk

[demonstars]

CDNF ANON I HAVE SO MANYTHOUGHTS ABOUT THAT. SUICIDE CANCELLED

[rjalker]

Cully by Jack Egan

Amazing Stories January 1963.

1.5k. scifi horror space colonization and medical abuse

___

Above him eighty feet of torpid, black water hung like a shroud of Death, and still he heard his ragged breathing. And something else. Cully concentrated on that sound, and the rhythmic pulsing of his heart. Somehow he had to retain a hold on his sanity … or his soul.

After an hour of careful breathing and exploring of body sensations, Cully realized he could move. He flexed an arm; a mote of gold sand sifted upward in the dark water. It had a pleasant color, in contrast with the ominous shades of the sea. In a few moments, he had struggled to a sitting position, delighting in the curtain of glittering metal grains whirling around him as he moved.

And the other sound. A humming in his mind; a distant burble of tiny voices of other minds. Words swirling in giddy patterns he couldn't understand.

Shortly thereafter, Cully discovered why he still lived, breathed: a suit. A yellow, plastic, water-tight suit, with an orange-on-black shield on the left breast pocket, and a clear bubble-helmet. He felt weight on his back and examined it: two air tanks and their regulator, a radio, and … the box.

Suit, tanks, regulator; radio, black water, box; sand, sea, stillness.

Cully considered his world. It was small; it was conceivable; it was incomplete.

Where is it?

"Where is what?" He knew he had a voice—a means of communication between others of his kind, using low-frequency heat waves caused by agitation of air molecules. Why couldn't he make it work?

Words. Thousands of them, at his beck and call. What were they? What did they mean? He shifted uncomfortably in the tight yellow suit, searching the near horizon for …

Where is it?

A vague calling came from beyond the black sea curtain. Objectively, because he could do nothing to stop them, he watched his feet pick up, move forward, put down; pick up, move forward, put down. Funny. He had the feeling, the concept, that this action held meaning. It was supposed to cause some reaction, accomplish an act. He wondered at the regular movement of his legs. One of them hurt. A hurt is a sensation of pain, caused by over-loading sensory-units in the body; a hurt is bad, because it indicates something is wrong.

Something certainly was wrong. Something stirred in Cully's mind. He stopped and sat down on the sandy sea bottom, gracefully, like a ballet dancer. He examined his foot. There was a tiny hole in the yellow plastic fabric, and a thin string of red-black was oozing out. Blood. He knew.

He was bleeding. He could do nothing about it. He got up and resumed walking.

Where is it?

Cully lifted his head in annoyance at the sharp thought.

"Go away," he said in a low, pleading voice. The sound made him feel better. He began muttering to himself.

"Water, black, s-sand, hurt. Pain. Radio tanks …"

It didn't sound right. After a few minutes, he was quiet. The manythoughts were calling him. He must go to the manythoughts.

If his foot was bleeding, then something had happened; if something had happened, then his foot was bleeding.

"No!"

If something had happened, then maybe other things had happened—before that. But how could something happen in a world of flat gold sand and flaccid sea? Surely there was something wrong. Wrong: the state of being not-right; something had happened that was not-right. Cully stared at the edges of the unmoving curtain before him.

Where is it?

It was a driving, promise-filled concept. No words; just the sense that something wonderful lay just beyond reach. But this voice was different from the manythoughts. It was directing his body; his mind was along for the ride.

The sameness of the sea and sand became unbearable. It was too-right, somehow. Cully felt anger, and kicked up eddies of dust. It changed the sameness a little. He kicked more up, until it swirled around him in a thick gold haze, blotting out the terrible emptiness of the sea.

He felt another weight at his side. He found a holster and gun. He recognized neither. Again he watched objectively as his hand pulled the black object out and handled it. His body was evidently familiar with it, though it was strange to his eyes. His finger slipped automatically into the trigger sheaf. His legs were still working under two drives: the manythoughts' urging, and something else, buried in him. A longing. Up-and-down, back-and-forth.

Where is it?

Anger, frustration flared in him. His hand shot out, gun at ready. He turned around slowly. Through the settling trail of suspended sand, nothing was visible.

Again he was moving. Something made his legs move. He walked on through the shrouds of Death until he felt a taut singing in his nerves. An irrational fear sprang out in him, cascading down his spine, and Cully shuddered. Ahead there was something. Two motives: get there because it (they?) calls; get there because you must.

Where is it?

The mind-voice was excited, demanding. Something was out there, besides the sameness. Cully walked on, trailing gold. The death-curtain parted …

An undulating garden of blue-and-gold streamers suddenly drifted toward him on an unfelt current. Cully was held, entranced. They flowed before him, their colors dazzling, hypnotic.

Come closer, Earthling, the manythoughts spoke inside his head, soothingly.

Here it is! Cully's mind shouted.

Cully's mind was held, hypnotized, but his body moved of its own volition.

He moved again. His mind and the manythoughts' spoke: fulfillment—almost. There was one action left that must be completed.

Cully's arms moved. They detached the small black box from his pack. He moved on into the midst of the weaving, gold-laced plants. Little spicules licked out from their flexing stalks and jabbed, unsensed, into Cully's body to draw nourishment. From the manythoughts came the sense of complete fulfillment.

From Cully's mind came further orders.

Lie down. It was a collective concept. Lie still. We are friends.

He could not understand. They were speaking words; words were beyond him. His head shook in despair. The voices were implanting an emotion of horror at what his hands were doing, but he had no control over his body. It was as if it were not his.

The black box was now lying in the sand among the streaming plants. Cully's fingers reached out and caressed a small panel. A soundless 'click' ran through the murkiness. The strangely beautiful, gold-laced blue plants began a writhing dance. Their spicules withdrew and jabbed, withdrew and jabbed. A rending, silent scream tore the quiet waters.

NO! they cried. It was a negative command, mixed in with the terrible screaming. Turn it off!

"Stop it, stop it!" Cully tried to say, but there were no words. He tried to cover his ears within the helmet, but the cries went on. Emotions roiled the water: pain, hurt, reproach. Cully sobbed. Something was wrong here; something was killing the plants—the beautiful blue things! The plants were withering, dying. He looked up at them, stupefied, not understanding, tears streaming down his face. What did they want from him? What had he done …

Where is it?

A different direction materialized; a new concept of desire.

Cully's body turned and crawled away from the wonderful, dying garden, oblivious to the pleadings floating, now weakly, in the torpid water. He scuffed up little motes of golden sand, leaving a low-lying scud along the bottom, back to the little black box in the garden. The plants, the box, all were forgotten by now. Cully crawled on, not knowing why. A rise appeared; surprise caught Cully unaware. A change in the sameness!

Where is it?

Again the voice was insistent. His desire was close ahead; he did not look back at the black churning on the sea bottom. His legs worked, his chest heaved, words swirled in his mind. He topped the rise.

Below him, in the center of a shallow golden bowl, floated a long, shiny cylinder. Even from here he knew it was huge. He knew other things about it: how heavy it was; how it was; that it carried others of his kind. He had been in it before. And they were waiting for him. He lurched on.

"Captain! Here comes Cully!" the midshipman shouted from the airlock. "Look what they've done to him!"

The old man's grey eyes took in the spectacle without visible emotion. He watched the pathetic, bleeding yellow plastic sack crawl up to the ship and look up. His hands reached down and lifted Cully up into the lock.

They took his suit off and stared with loathing at what had once been a man. A white scar zig-zagged across his forehead. The Captain bent close, in range of the dim blue eyes.

"It was a brave thing you did, Cully. The whole system will be grateful. Venus could never be colonized as long as those cannibals were there to eat men, and drive men mad." Cully fingered the scar on his forehead, and looked unseeing into the old man's compassionate eyes. "I'm sorry Cully. We all are. But there was no other way. Prefrontal lobotomy, destruction of your speech center … it was the only way you could get past the telepaths and destroy them. I'm sorry, Cully. The race of Man shall long honor your name."

Cully smiled at the old man, the words churning in his brain; but he did not understand.

Where is it?

The emptiness was still there.

[natscbi]

10.12.22

being at (parents’) home is super weird. not in a bad way, tho i do miss uni (home) a lot, but it’s very strange feeling more like a teenager again. and noticing the town that was Home for 18 years… feel less like home.

anyway.

korean lessons once again going strong! (one a day. consistency > intensity for me)

revision for uni going less strong. going to have to fix that sometime soon 🙃

forgot how stressful xmas present shopping is! i hate it here

tasks for today:

korean lesson (ttmik level 2 lesson 13) ✅

organic chem revision no❤️

python coursework (top priority) ✅

maybe order some xmas gifts for people idk i looked but didn’t order ✳️

안녕히 가세요!

(woah just looked at my oldest korean notes. practice really does improve writing in 한글 lmao)

[perceremade]

junebug 💗__💗

[jisoobp]

when julie says hold it means smth good is comin up. . . .