#noticing patterns. making the most difficult of choices.

[wei--wuxian]

when do you give yourself permission to give up on a dream?

when is the disappearing possibility you're chasing no longer worth the cost?

when do you allow yourself to rest?

[teaboot]

if ur a murderbot nerd now do u have any fun opinions abt it yet?

Oh my goddd you have no idea

I really, really, really like Murderbot because it comes at life with this perspective we don't often see that is very real among people who have already been through traumatic experiences, who developed skills and abilities to suvive that were once useful but no longer have context- that search that traumatized people go through to recalibrate and reorient ourselves in a world where we no longer really need those things to survive.

A bit personal here, but my own issues personally involved a lot of psychological abuse that made it difficult to trust my own perceptions of reality, and as a result I found I was very easy to lie to and manipulate.

To handle this, I became obsessive over writing things down, cataloging details and making notes of things as they happened- I'd carry recording devices and make audio recordings and stay up late at night to transcribe what they'd picked up, read those over and over again to reassure myself of things I wasn't certain about.

While doing this, there were others close to me that I felt responsible for, who I had to protect from others and protect myself from at the same time. Life was about two things: Evidence, and defusing threats

Over time, I learned to trust myself as my memories matched what had been recorded where their narrative didn't, but I never really kicked the habit. Like Murderbot, I had added something to my own programming that reassured me I was safe, that I was in control of myself, that I couldn't be mistaken or crazy or broken or used.

I'm only on book two, but already I see myself in Murderbot again. No spoilers here, but when I left home- left that dangerous context- I didn't need to repeat these patterns to survive anymore, but I still did, because I didn't know anything else anymore. It felt safe, comfortable, knowing knowing that the past couldn't repeat itself, because I'd written that flaw- blind trust in myself-  out of my programming and replaced it with something else.

Still, though, I'd become something specially suited to thrive in a very specific environment. Nothing else felt right like followinghigh-risk situations, like witnessing and watching and recording and knowing I had proof of the truth where others might not.

People took notice. I wound up in security by accident, but's an environment that I thrive in due to the same patterns and behaviours I originally developed when I had no other choice. I climbed the ladder pretty quickly, once supervisors caught on that my reports were the most accurate, most objective, most factual, detail-oriented and timely. I keep others and myself safe and prioritize public safety above all else, and I perform well under pressure

Now I'm in a position where I often wonder, do I enjoy this job, or is it just what I'm good at? I have a set of skills now, but do I have the option of choosing not to use them? What would I be, if not this? Could I be anything else? Can Murderbot be anything else?

It has a set of skills that set it apart, make it different, special. It does what it knows best. But is it free? Does it want to be? What does it want? Does it have to do what it was built to do? What if it didn't?

I know what I'm good for. The idea of deliberately leaving what I'm good for for something uncertain, that I might hate, that I might be useless at- the choice to give up what was so important to me for so long and become deliberately obsolete?

Let go of my entire purpose? The only thing I know, that I fit so well into but don't actually know if I enjoy? Now that I can choose? Now that enjoyment is a luxury I can afford to consider?

Yeah, that resonates.

I like the Murderbot series so far because it feels the way I feel: Like the most significant and formative part of my story, the part where I became what I am, has already happened

And now I have to just. Keep going

Into... what?

It feels absurd. Like a microwave giving up on reheating food and deciding to start a life around abstract dance.

So, uh. Yeah. It's really very wild to see this same philosophical-ish dilemma I've been digging over in the back of my mind and in therapy for the last forever laid out so plainly in a genuinely exciting and enjoyable story like this. I feel much less alone, and I... kind of really need to see how it resolves, I think.

So, uh. Yeah. Read Murderbot, I guess

[ahdriking]

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[daisynik7]

I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society. 

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit. 

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn��t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more. 

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more. 

This theory is soon debunked. 

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood. 

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious. 

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later. 

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone. 

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you. 

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy. 

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t. 

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special. 

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him. 

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him. 

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay. 

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence. 

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life. 

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won. 

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody. 

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright. 

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night. 

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more. 

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore. 

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front. 

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful. 

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you. 

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

[cyjammy]

Magenta or Green When Alastor Desires to be Seen

After rewatching the pilot and the scenes where Alastor is singing, I realized his palette swaps may be emotionally/situationally dependent. At first I thought, “Yeah, this is just a callback to the pilot where he sang with Charlie,” but I think it’s deeper than that.

In both instances of singing with the Morningstars, Alastor is seen to have a palette change.

When he has the duet with Vox, he stays in his original color palette for the entire number.

Once is coincidence and twice is a pattern. When the color green is so engrained in Alastor's abilities, it's difficult not to notice.

When he’s in the presence of someone he considers powerful, he puts in that extra effort to change appearances. If it was only for production sake, he could have remained in his usual red outfit with a different background color to push him forward like in Stayed Gone. Even then he was still on a red background most of the time.

Both of these performances take place within the Hotel, which has become Alastor’s domain. Even then, at the end of Stayed Gone, he was in his radio tower in the Hotel. There were no special effects and Alastor only showed off his demon form.

When Alastor feels like he needs to posture, he changes his color. In the pilot, he demonstrates his strength by changing everyone’s outfits, manipulating the environment and summoning demons under his control. That really means that Vox isn’t shit but an annoyance to him. And I think that's hilarious.

Alastor at the end of his breakdown is enshrouded in green.

When he gets upset with Husk, the chains are green. When he makes deals with both Vaggie and Charlie a green outline is around their hands, within the walls, spreading in the cracks of his face.

Almost like a poison dart frog, Alastor wants to be seen as a danger. He wants to be a warning sign. Always caring for his image, he desires to take attention away from his possible weaknesses. He was reborn as a deer in Hell which is something I and many others head canon that he's insecure about. His perceived lack of strength as a creature commonly considered prey is definitely a factor in how he portrays himself.

Alastor's deep rooted insecurities led him to begin antagonizing Lucifer. He's held under strict contract with his deal and his power has been stifled. Alastor's dignity has been stripped away under these constraints, he's forced to follow orders when he yearns to be the one in control.

When Alastor is in that green and magenta state, he is posturing. This is his attempt at taking back his agency, showing that despite his situation and probably poor choice to have signed a deal with a currently unknown entity more powerful than him, he is still strong. He is the infamous Radio Demon, a sinner full of natural magical talent who took down countless Overlords within his first few weeks in Hell.

(Unless that happened due to his deal rather than his own ability and he postures to make up for that to get people believe that he is all powerful.)

Alastor only feels the need to do this in the presence of those who he considers a threat -- no matter how reluctant he may be to admit whether they are or not. To him, other Overlords, especially Vox, are considered low on his list. His first targets when he arrived in Hell were Overlords

Meanwhile, the Morningstars are a whole different ball game. Two holy entities that are ranked higher than him on the food chain are most definitely threats, so he tries to act unbothered and remain confident in his abilities.

For someone so adamant about hiding his emotions with a smile, he's certainly created a whole load of flashing tells for others to key in on his wavering mental state. Alastor is not as fortified in will as he claims.

[penncilkid]

Alright, I'll bite. (Sparked by this post) I'm gonna preface this with some context: 

First off: I'm Black in case you're unaware

Huxley is my favorite speaker. Full stop. You ask me to choose, it’ll always be him. 

Likewise, you ask for my favorite listeners, I will say Starlight and Darlin'. (I'll save my Starlight rant for another day)

My designs for both Huxley and Darlin are Black.

With this in mind, I want to be clear from the jump: I don’t have an inherent problem with these headcanons. If I did, I wouldn’t have chosen then myself. That said, I have noticed that Hux and Darlin are, more often than not, the characters that get headcanoned as POC (specifically Black) in design rosters. In some cases, they are the only POC designs present. Why is that?

Furthermore, the more often I notice this pattern so to speak, the more I sit and think about why those headcanons are so popular. I find my answer when I think about the characters I see headcanoned as white most often. Tell me why it’s "practically canon" for Lasko to be pale with light/white hair. Tell me why white Sam "just makes sense". Why? Because Lasko's a nerdy ball of nerves that stumbles over his words? Because Sam’s a sweet Southern man at heart? Those are not inherently white attributes.

Except they're treated as such. They go virtually unchallenged because they're so widely accepted by fandom. People see these personalities and character details and come up with their vision. So, let's apply that to Huxley and Darlin, shall we?

Huxley: Athlete. Canonically implied to be big, as indicated by statements made by him and other members of the DAMN crew. Classified as a himbo with parallels in Imperium highlighting how some will view him as stupid. Overall chill vibe.

Darlin: Reckless with their safety. Known to lash out/lose control of their emotions when they’re not actively hiding them. Gets injured often because they’re too stubborn to run from trouble. An overall intense demeanor that makes them difficult to approach (at least at first). 

Explain to me why this screams Black to so many people. Is it because Huxley's a dumb jock who you imagine gets stoned all the time? Oh, is it perhaps because Darlin is just so aggressive compared to your Golden Retriever-coded Asher, needing to be calmed down by everyone around them? And here's the thing: I can already imagine people saying, "That's not why I made them Black". Then explain why it "just makes sense" for them to Black. Why them out of a sea of characters? Make it make sense.

Now let me make this clear as well: I'm not expecting every headcanon to have elaborate thought behind it. For one, I get that some people take a more casual approach with designs and such. Not every choice has to have a reason or justification behind it. But when literally 95% of the Huxley designs I see are Black and half of y'all don't even know what a fucking durag is? Saying it leaves a bad taste in my mouth is putting it lightly.

You know what I wish I saw more of? Black Huxleys and Darlins with attached nuance.

Give me a Black Darlin who struggles to articulate how they feel with the people in their lives because they haven't been readily given the language to do so. You want to pair a Black Darlin with a White Sam? Why not talk about how POC have an insanely difficult time getting support from the medical system so not only does it explain why Darlin is so resistant to go to healers, but also gives an extra weight to the fact that Sam was their absolute last resort when injured? Give me a Black Darlin who has been taught their entire life that no one will have their back, that they need to learn how to depend on themself alone, and that's the reason why they struggle to feel like the pack would've cared when the Quinn shit went on.

You wanna talk Black Huxleys? Let's touch on how he's learned to control his emotions/anger because he knows how people will take it if it comes from someone who looks like him. Talk about how his moms teaching him not to use violence speaks to a deeper desire for him not to be viewed as a threat because they fear for his life otherwise. In one of his BAs, he mentions how a lot of people used to sleep with him/flirt with him solely because of his body and he could tell. Do you know how often black men are sexualized and fetishized? Why not talk about it through him? I see people explore that concept through Gavin constantly, where's the energy for Huxley? You wanna make him Black so bad, why not actually put some thought behind it? Because right now, it seems like he gets the "luxury" of being the token Black guy in the DAMN friend group at best.

I know a lot of people are probably going to dismiss this post. I am already anticipating that as I write this. But I'm so tired of pretending like this shit doesn't get to me. Because it does. I've got no intentions of leaving this fandom because I have met so many amazing people and adore Erik's content immensely. But what I am going to do is talk about the widespread normalization of attributing certain personality traits to certain racial groups. Because the non-white people in this fandom deserve better than that.

[helenvader]

Get to know your fic writer!

I have emerged from my writing hiatus, but I'm horribly stuck, so this game might be refreshing. :) I am not the author, I stumbled across it and told myself why not.

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

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Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Is it just me or has the card illustrations (specifically the groovy) been kinda bad lately? Like don't get me wrong most of the pre groovy are absolute bangers, but the groovies? Not so much. But lately there has been an obvious decrease in quality with anatomy, and even 😐 a whitewashing problem.

Take Lilia's dorm groovy for example— the piece is gorgeous, but whenever I zoom into his face the way they draw his face looks so off.

As for the whitewashing issue, I've noticed that Leona's beastly garb groovy had him very ashy looking (but some may argue that it's just the lighting casted on him)

Right now though the one that's been bothering me the most is the obvious whitwashing on Kalim's tsum groovy. We really can't argue that it's a lighting issue there, cause Jamil's firework card had a similar setting and he didn't look that light.

Personally, I think TWST’s Groovy illustrations have always been hit or miss since the beginning. I have similar issues with the faces in Lilia and Leona’s Dorm Uniform Groovies, and the anatomy seemed slightly off in a few others. I can’t find the original post anymore (I think OP didn’t tag it??), but I clearly recall an artist having spoken about how the pose in Epel’s initial Dorm Uniform art looked weird; they included drawings of how Epel’s spine and limbs looked vs how they should look to illustrate what they meant. Those are just a few examples of then and now though, and we have to keep in mind that if we include ALL available cards then the funky faces and weird posing/proportions only make up a very small percentage of what’s out there.

The more important issue at the moment is the coloring choices that were made for a few recent SSR event Groovies: Beastly Garb Leona and Tsumsted Kalim. They are pictured below with a few other card illustrations I pulled that have similar lighting (or as similar as I could find). You’ll notice (especially for Tsumsted Kalim’s Groovy) that the characters’ skin colors are much lighter than they should be.

Now I’ll be honest here 💦 I actually can’t tell (even when eyedropping the colors to compare; I don't even know if eyedropping is an accurate way to compare colors since the lighting and environment in every illustration is never EXACTLY the same) if Leona’s Beastly Garb Groovy is just the strong sunlight or if it has been whitewashed. I don’t have enough knowledge and/or experience with color theory and in real life to know for certain. However, as the Anon has said, that same argument cannot be made for the Scarabia duo. It’s particularly bad for Tsumsted Kalim because Yasmina Silk Jamil also had fireworks in the background, and his skin color is fine there. Sometimes artists purposefully use an altered color palate to achieve a different feeling in their pieces (for example, pastel colors for a soft, soothing look). I don’t think that was the case for Tsumsted Kalim because everything else in the Groovy art looks pretty true to color for the lighting (but again, I'm not an expert in coloring so I could be wrong). When taken in conjunction with Leona’s Beastly Garb… it could indicate a troubling pattern.

There’s been a lot of speculation going around for why this has happened, chief among that speculation being the TWST team has likely hired new staff and/or colorists (and Japan, being Japan, is pretty homogenous; it may be difficult to find artists with an understanding of how to color and shade darker skin tones). Again, these are just guesses circulating in the fandom. Nothing is confirmed, and nor does this excuse what has happened.

This has, very understandably, caused a lot of hurt and upset in the TWST fandom and community. So now the question is…

What can we do about it?

You can communicate your feelings to the TWST team! They have a form to collect thoughts and opinions from the playerbase, which can be accessed here.

PLEASE NOTE:

Be polite and professional. Nothing good comes out of anger, especially if the anger is directed at others; if you are rude and/or curse at the staff, they will be much less likely to hear you out.

Communicate in Japanese. The staff you are sending your complaint to are Japanese, and the game itself is Japanese (Beastly Garb Leona and Tsumsted Kalim are not yet out in the EN server, which is staffed by totally different people).

If you don’t know how to write in Japanese, this Twitter user has created polite templates to communicate our concerns with the whitewashing. (Their whole thread is great; please reference it if you need additional assistance!!) I would not recommend adding extra text, especially if you would be relying on a translation program to do so. Speaking in broken Japanese can be perceived as rude and will only detract from your message.

A similar situation to this occurred during the initial run of Fairy Gala; TWST had used “exotic” in its text, and after receiving an influx of feedback from the players, the devs went in and changed the dialogue to no longer use the term. It’s possible to make the change we want to see a reality if we respectfully make our thoughts known.

[creative-frequency]

Astarion x Reader: Contradictions and Other Counter-Measures Ch.1

Summary: If you want to spend some time with Astarion, you only have to say so. Though, it seems to happen just as well without saying anything.

Moments in camp during your journey to find a cure for the tadpole issue. You are a sorceress, daughter of the noble Caldwell family and Wyll's old friend.

Word count: 2067 Notes: Eventual romance, building friendships, camp shenanigans, game rewrite scenes, spoilers ahoy.

CHAPTER 1: Escape

The tavern sign creaks in the cool, windy night of the Lower City. The rain is calming into a drizzle after a full day of pouring torrent. Muddy puddles litter the roads and alleys of Baldur’s Gate. An errant step into one has already soiled your boots and the hem of your heavy cape.

You’re the only traveller on the road making your way towards the infamous den, hopefully looking like one with the promise of a cheap pint or blithe time on your mind. Though with the current dreadful weather, no one looks up from their feet or pays any mind to the hood covering your face.

And that is exactly why you chose tonight.

In your hurry, you fail to notice the pair of red eyes peering down from the tavern’s upper floor window to the street. They are already calculating possible openings for a temptation and chances for seduction.

Astarion is beginning to feel nervous as he turns away from the window. This streak of cold, quiet nights is proving difficult for someone looking for, well… people to meet. If only he hadn’t agreed to the stupid bet with Petras and Dal on top of drawing the shortest stick. Travellers and tourists don’t go out in this weather unless they absolutely have to. He wouldn’t either if he had a choice.

When no one else enters the tavern for a while after you, Astarion decides to take another look at the night’s menu of patrons downstairs. It has been slim pickings so far, but there must be someone, who even barely passes the bar to be served for his Master. He cannot return empty-handed. Not tonight.

Astarion descends the stairs leisurely, an empty wine cup dangling between his slender fingers. He walks towards his usual stalking spot in the corner, a vantage point from where he can see the faces of those walking in, but before he can sit down, a commotion by the bar draws his attention.

You are arguing with the burly bartender and apparently trying to hush the towering man with frantic motions. He says it’s not ‘that kind of establishment.’ And he rather loudly tells you to order something or get lost. You shy away for a bit, gathering yourself and making sure your scarf covers the lower half of your face. Some of the other patrons are already shooting curious looks at you. The attention is the last thing you need.

And thus, Astarion alters his course to prowl closer.

He scans your voice and frame, even though it’s difficult to make any conclusions as you’re dressed in something resembling a loose and large potato sack with a hood. Quite the fashion statement, Astarion sneers and almost turns on his heels, just as a glimpse of something golden catches his eye.

Astarion’s gaze narrows and he can’t help the slight curve of a smile forming. So you were trying to pawn off something at the counter. How silly of you to think that any local establishment that happens to be located in a side alley would be willing to do some side hustle as a fence. In Astarion’s experience, this kind of situation usually means a delicious damsel in distress and someone with no touch into the reality of Lower City life.

Perfect.

Astarion has never heard of anyone finding gold at the bottom of a potato sack, but with the unlucky streak he’s had, he is willing to give it a try.

“Is there a problem, darling?” Astarion says in the smoothest, most calming tone his 200 years of experience in the art of seduction can provide.

The golden glimpse – a ring with an intricate pattern on its surface – disappears into your cloak with such sleight of hand and speed that Astarion almost wants to applaud.

“Of course not,” you mutter, glance at him, do a double take because burning Hells, he is gorgeous, and turn away quickly. This is just the kind of attention you were trying to avoid by choosing the not-so-complimenting outfit.

There is something familiar about you, but before Astarion can look more closely, the grumpy bartender clears his throat rather loudly.

“Is there something I can get you?” he asks, clearly telling Astarion to mind his own damn business.

“Well, since you’re asking, you could stop treating this lady so boorishly and pour us both a glass of red,” Astarion says and places his empty cup on the counter along with the required coin.

“I don’t–”, you start but Astarion silences you with a worried look that says ‘let me handle the brute’.

The bartender glares at the pair of you before picking up the coin and turning around to find a bottle of wine.

You swallow the rest of your protest and fiddle with your scarf, compulsively lifting it to hide the lower part of your face.

And it truly is an exasperatingly familiar face, Astarion thinks, tapping his slender fingers on the counter. He knows who you are, for some reason. Or knows of you. He just quite can’t put his finger on it. But, there is one thing he knows:

When he is hunting for a bag of blood for his Master’s supper, meeting someone Astarion thinks he might know is always a bad thing. Random travellers, excitement-hunting tourists and the dregs of society make for the best prey. No one will miss them for days.

“Now, would you do me the honour of telling me your name?” Astarion asks sweetly, settling into his most irresistible smile.

You tug the hood lower over your face, avoiding the inspecting stare, but Astarion can clearly see how your eyes are darting around, looking for ideas for a false story.

“T-Tav. I’m, uhh, a merchant. Selling… the local farmers’ crops down by Waukeen’s Rest.”

Potato sack woman, indeed, but also the saddest display of deception Astarion has seen in years. Your voice, however, doesn’t ring any alarm bells of familiarity, so he might as well continue.

“Nice to meet you, Tav. My name is Astarion,” he purrs.

The bartender sets down two cups of red wine with a grunt and a glare, and walks away to serve the patrons by the other end of the counter.

Astarion takes the wine cups and offers one to you. You accept it but don’t drink.

“What shall we drink to?” he inquires.

You shift on your feet, uncomfortable with the situation. It is not quite the reaction Astarion is used to receiving when pointing his charms and full attention at someone. You’re avoiding his gaze, hiding behind the hood and scarf. How annoying.

“Darling, is something the matter?” Astarion asks in a hushed tone that almost convinces you to trust him a little. He leans slightly closer, just into your personal space. “You obviously didn’t come here for a drink.”

Maybe it’s his uncannily sharp skills of perception or you’re just that obviously desperate, but the jury of your mind is frantically trying to reach an agreement – and, unsurprisingly, it turns into Astarion’s favour.

You turn to fully look at him. It’s his first win of the night, but still far from winning the bet. Astarion’s expression stays neutral with a very convincing hint of artfully crafted worry.

“I need to get out of the city. Tonight,” you say so quietly that barely any sound leaves your lips.

Astarion leans closer like a co-conspirator. “Is that why you were trying to pawn off that ring of yours?” he asks and sips the wine.

You freeze. “No. I wasn’t trying to–”

Astarion hushes your rising panic. ”You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He draws an exaggerated thoughtful look at you and whispers: “In fact, I could help you.”

Your eyes narrow. “And why would you do that, good sir?”

“Oh, I like to call myself somewhat of a humanitarian,” he replies coolly, swirling the wine in his cup.

You still eye him suspiciously. Your scarf gradually falls, revealing red-painted lips. “Apologies for my wariness, but how exactly do you plan on helping me? The gates at the main road are closed for the night,” you point out.

Astarion shoots a humorous look at you. “Darling, there are other ways to leave the city besides the main road.”

You arch a brow at the suggestion. Unbeknown to each other, maybe both of your fortunes are about to take a turn.

“Such as?” you ask.

“Why spoil the surprise?” Astarion smiles irresistibly, leaning towards you, but you coil back.

“Can’t say I like surprises. Especially tonight,” you say and Astarion realises that he started reeling his catch in too early.

He places the wine cup on the counter and looks you in the eyes. Yours are surprisingly pretty – also beautified with skillfully applied makeup that doesn’t add up with the potato sack outfit. How curious. There must be a scandalous story to this and Astarion ponders forsaking his mission for digging out the details to sate his curiosity. If he hadn’t been on such an unlucky streak already, he probably would’ve changed his mind and actually pried for the whole story. It’s been years since anything piqued his interest like this.

“Very well then,” Astarion sighs, acting all exasperated at having to spoil the surprise. “My family happens to possess a portal for, ah. A quick escape.”

You twitch at the word ‘escape’ as your heart jumps – the reaction is so easy to read.

“Go back to the city? I barely made it this far,” you say quietly, brows furrowing.

“What do you mean?”

You realise you said too much and shut up for a moment. “Nothing. It was just a misunderstanding.”

Astarion would smile if the situation wasn’t so delicate. You’re too easy to manipulate.

“A misunderstanding? With who?” Astarion asks innocently with the appropriate amount of concern.

Just as you’re looking around for an escape from replying, the only door of the tavern is suddenly swarmed by three very loud Flaming Fist soldiers. Everyone turns to look at the door and you realise too late that your scarf has fallen again.

“There she is!” one of the soldiers yells and points directly at you.

You jump up from the bar stool and dash towards the stairs. Astarion turns curiously to look from you to the soldiers, but is suddenly met with the business end of a longsword.

Two of the soldiers run upstairs after you, the fugitive, as the largest one of them growls at Astarion: “What’s your business with her? And keep ‘em hands where I can see them.”

“Saer, surely there’s been a misunderstanding–” Astarion feels the sting of irony as he parrots your words. “I have no idea who the lady is. I was just buying her a drink.”

The soldier looks up at the bartender who shrugs and agrees: “He paid for them.”

As a testimony, your untouched cup of wine still rests on the counter. The soldier sheaths his sword.

“Now, this has been a tad too exciting an evening for myself, so if you’ll excuse me,” Astarion says and gets up to leave. He doesn’t fancy the idea of being thrown into a cell for the remaining night. Prison breaks are so exhausting and usually include wading through the sewers. Eugh.

The soldier doesn’t hear Astarion muttering as he is already marching after the others. But, he doesn’t even make it to the stairs when the heels of something quite large resembling a sack of potatoes land straight on his head. The man instantly falls flat on his bum from the impact, his armour rattling loudly.

You dash past the thunderstruck vampire spawn, spewing mild, ladylike profanities as you go and leave a faint blue stream of light in your wake. Your eyes lock with Astarion’s as you turn by the door to check if your pursuers have already recovered.

Astarion can’t help but burst into a fit of laughter.

On the following evening, he sees that the front page of the Baldur’s Mouth is graced by a photo of ‘Tav’, who turns out to be a progeny of the Caldwell family. And so he has his explanation for why you seemed so familiar and were carrying around a gold ring that is worth a house in one of the less classy neighbourhoods of Baldur’s Gate.

As for what you were running from, the paper offers no satisfactory explanation.

-

Next Chapter

My Writing Masterlist

[notdogice]

Well, it's been about a year since I started showing off my Pony Town cos' so I guess I should show off some more. This time we're delving into my Dragon Ball cos'! There aren't too many of them, but they have a few neat little techniques I used to create them.

First off we have Goku! He was one of the first few DB cos' I did and he has changed quite a bit from when I first made him. I had a hard time figuring out how to do his hair, but the latest update to the selection of manes Pony Town provides helped immensely. Besides the hair, I enjoyed making his shoes. The rest was pretty easy to figure out.

Of course I had to make a super saiyan Goku! ... This is the only transformation I have for him though. Funnily enough, the hair was much easier to do, and it also uses the hat slot to add onto the hair trick. I did struggle a bit with coloring the hair at first, but making the outline lighter than the hair does a great job at making it glow.

Next we have Yamcha! He was rather straightforward to make, and the most notable things to point out are his clothes and, again, shoes. It's mostly just using the outlines to add more detail, but I like how easy it was to do it.

Puar!!!!! Yeah they revamped the customizable plushies that you can equip and Puar was an obvious choice to do as my first plushie cos.

Launch, but I was inspired to make her whilst watching one of the Harmony Gold movie dubs that had popped up on youtube a while back. You'd think she'd be an easy one to do, but I had a hard time deciding which mane to use and uh those pants were absolutely hard to work with. Other than that, it was an easy enough one to do.

I had a fun time making Korin, and this is one of the very few characters that I've had to use the beard options for. I had used one of the skirt options to make him more round as well. Also, you may have noticed that I've made the outlines a gradient. I've pretty much done this for all of my DB cos', but it's a much more notable feature for Korin compared to the others.

I love Raditz, but hot damn he doesn't translate well into Pony Town. Like the legs and tail are easy enough, but his armor and hair were hell. It's mostly the hair, but I had to use a hat, ear ring, and both front and side horn options to make it work. The armor was easier, but it was a puzzle for sure.

Vegeta was the first DB cos I made. He was easy. Uh, I actually used one of the face patterns to extend his widow's peak, and I also used the grass color to hide one of his hair spikes. There's a reason for that.

Yup. I don't have much to add. He has a horn and antlers now.

One of my favourite cos' I've done, and it's Frieza of all people. His head was a joy to figure out. I used the mask option for the lower half of his face so that I could have his facial markings be present, and I used one of the beards to make that white outline. For his head, I used a top hat to create the outline, and there's a horn I used to add to the shading of his forehead. I'm very proud of how he turned out.

The Namekian frog is my favourite DB character, so I, of course, made a cos of the frog. Okay so I once saw a person who made a frog using a method like the one that I used that I have never seen anyone do ever before or since when I saw them. Like I tried looking up a tutorial for this type of frog head and I couldn't find it, so I feel like it was something that that person had figured out for themselves. Like I've seen people do the headphone eyes thing, but never in combination with the mask for a frog. Other than that, a very easy cos to make.

It's bingus time. Beerus' ears are my favourite thing about this cos. It combines the tall side horns and the big pointed ears to make his iconic big ears. It's difficult to see here, but I had used one of the ponytails to make the ear more round just by a few pixels. For his shawl, I used the cape and the neck tie together to make it.

And that's it for the Dragon Ball Pony Town cos' I have. I might make more in the future, but I can't say for sure.

[vadapega]

Was asked about the Cave Story transition effect, wether or not it can work on the SEGA Mega Drive / Genesis, here's an attempt at it.

Read more for an indepth explanation why this isn't so easy and why it still looks weird:

So the backstory was that, as I was watching someone play a bit of this Cave Story homebrew for the Mega Drive, we've noticed that all transitions were palette fades rather than the usual Diamond effect, and so I explained why the effect is much harder to pull off than one would expect it:

This is the animation itself, 16 frames in length repeated for the whole screen, rather simple and something you might(?) expect from an older game but in reality it's a lot more difficult to pull off.

If it were a 8x8 sized animation, this wouldn't be a big issue, you'd just write over every single tile in VRAM for the tileset and fill it in, no problem, Streets of Rage does this in the credits sequence and title as a fade in.

But since we're dealing with a 16x16 pattern, we cna't do this, at least not without curating the tilemap to be friendly for such an effect, which would limit map editing a lot.

So we have another choice, which is to sacrifice one of the available layers for the transition alone. One could sacrifice one of the tilemap layers but unless the other layer's already filling the screen, this would be too noticeable. One could fade the colours for that layer in particular and then overwrite it with the tiles, but ya may as well be doing a full fade at that point, especially if you're intending to use more than one palette for the layers... so i went with an even worse solution: Sprites.

As it turns out, you can just barely fit an entire screen with just sprites, the biggest size you can have is 32x32 and it takes 80 of them to fill the entire 320x224 (NTSC) / 320x240 (PAL) screen area.

The sprite limit is exactly 80 sprites so the sprite table will be filled up with just the transition effect alone.

Now one might think "Hey, the sprite limit for any given horizontal line is 20 sprites and it only takes 10 sprites to fill the screen horizontally, can't we just move the sprites vertically every 32nd scanline? I thought of that too! but there's unfortunately another limit, a Sprite pixel limit.

You can only have 320px of sprites at any given horizontal line, meaning even with free slots, there are too many sprites already on screen so this isn't going to work, there's no way around it.

Now, one could swap between a 16x16 sized version during the start and swap to the 32x32 sized ones after hitting the threshhold to bypass this issue... quite honestly I didn't think of that at the time, it would halve the px limit and should make it near seamless, definitely something I'd like to workshop in the future!

Sure, all sprites will disappear halfway through the transition, but at that point most of the view will already be blocked by the effect so you're ideally not going to notice this happening.

EDIT : Only now am I told that Cave Story has different kinds of transitions depending on doorways and such, maybe giving me more than just the file for the transition for context for someone who didn't grow up playing Cave Story would be nice x.x

[justinsentertainmentcorner]

Alissa Wilkinson at Vox:

The Hollywood writers strike marked its one-month anniversary on Friday, with no signs of slowing down. While other guilds in the industry are still on the job — except when they’re blocked by picket lines — the writers may soon get company on those picket lines.

Two other major entertainment guilds, the Directors Guild of America (DGA) and Screen Actors Guild (SAG-AFTRA), also entered the summer with looming contract expiration dates. Both groups’ agreements with AMPTP, the trade association that represents the industry’s film and TV production companies, end on June 30. A lot could happen between now and then, but the situation is looking dicey.

All of that means that come July 1, the studios may be facing a double or even triple strike, in effect shutting Hollywood down completely.

The DGA rarely strikes — the last time was in 1987 — and its leadership has not called for a strike authorization vote. But its relations with the AMPTP have been trickier than usual. Negotiations began on May 10, with demands that in part mirror the WGA’s concerns. The main sticking point is wage and residual increases that keep in step with rising costs of living. In particular, lower residuals for shows on streaming services, where the lion’s share of entertainment now lives, have wreaked havoc for many people in the industry, drastically reducing compensation and making it increasingly difficult to just pay the bills.

In the past, the DGA has sometimes managed to make an agreement with AMPTP ahead of the start of bargaining, effectively setting a pattern for the WGA and SAG-AFTRA to follow in their own demands. Last November, the DGA sent a “pre-negotiation” offer to the AMPTP, seeking resolution ahead of bargaining. The AMPTP reportedly rejected the DGA’s proposal, meaning both parties came to the bargaining table without an arrangement.

The situation seemed to intensify due to an unforced error. On May 23, Warner Bros. Discovery launched Max, its newly rebranded streaming platform, which had previously been named HBO Max. Eagle-eyed observers noticed that in listed credits, the platform lumped writers, directors, producers, and so on into one category labeled “creators.” Aside from the queasy implications that the greatest works of cinema and television were just “content,” the choice on the company’s part ran afoul of hard-fought contract regulations regarding credits for artists.

It was a weird choice, and one that set blood boiling in Hollywood. The presidents of the WGA and the DGA issued a rare joint statement, with DGA president Lesli Linka Glatter noting that “The devaluation of the individual contributions of artists is a disturbing trend and the DGA will not stand for it. We intend on taking the strongest possible actions, in solidarity with the WGA, to ensure every artist receives the individual credit they deserve.”

By the end of the day, Warner Bros. Discovery announced that it would modify how credits were listed on the platform in compliance with its preexisting contract agreement with the unions. Yet the strong language indicated that the DGA was ready to play hardball.

Meanwhile, members of SAG-AFTRA have been vocally supportive of the WGA. This is no shock, since on top of the same issue of residuals and wages, the union — which includes, in addition to film and TV actors, people who work in radio, singers, voice actors, influencers, models, and other media professionals — is concerned about the existential threat posed by AI and other technologies. Even before the WGA’s strike began, SAG-AFTRA issued statements regarding how the use of AI could eliminate or greatly reduce work for its members.

Members of SAG-AFTRA have shown up on picket lines to support the writers, and the star power posed by some of its most prominent members helps bring attention to the WGA’s strike. It’s also an effort to remind the studios that when their own negotiations begin, they’re ready for a fight. Underlining that implicit statement, the leadership of SAG-AFTRA unanimously agreed to ask its membership for a strike authorization vote, which concludes this coming Monday, June 5. That’s a move designed to signal solidarity to the AMPTP ahead of negotiations.

[...]

Here’s what’s most significant about all of this: All three unions have never gone on strike at the same time, in the history of Hollywood. The fact that this scenario is possible, even likely, emphasizes how extraordinary this moment is in the entertainment business. 

Hollywood could be on the verge of a triple strike that could effectively shut down everything completely. The WGA strike is ongoing, but the SAG-AFTRA and/or the Directors Guild could also launch their own strikes.

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Shadow Phoenix Au - Becky Boxleitner - Part 1

Becky Boxleitner - She is 14 in the au. She is a meta human/magical being hybrid. She has gained her meta powers from her mother and her magic from her dad. She still has the same canon powers with some differences. With her flying abilities, whenever she uses them, bioluminescent wings appear on her back. The look like bird wings. These magical wings are made of heat, light, and fire. Becky can use her wings to slice through objects with intense heat look like a welding torch was used. She can also use her wings as a shield and make them glow. The glowing is useful when Becky needs to blind her opponents temporarily and make an escape. Her hero costume is designed differently from canon. Her color scheme is ruby red with yellow lining. Her suit, gloves, and boots are shaped like flames. Becky wears a hood over her head with the same color scheme as her body outfit. She also has a Nightwing (bird like) eye mask with a flame pattern. As for the rest of her powers, most are meta human powers inherited from her mother and are canon to the show. Her vocabulary skills are a mix of magic and meta human. One power in this au that Becky has is her pyrokinetic abilities. She can summon and control fire as well as weaken it or make it intense. Becky also has a strong resilience to heat but she isn't immune to powerful heat sources like the earth's core or the sun. Personality: Since Becky is older in this au, she is more mature than her counterpart. She still loves Pretty Princess and Magic Pony as well as the Squishy Fun Bots. Becky doesn't act brash in her decisions and is more cautious and wary when villain's try to trick her. She can still be hot headed sometimes (pun not intended) and can only be calmed by her dad, Bob, or her close friends when she gets angry. Becky is open towards and treats all species on Earth equally as well as recognize that every species has good and bad people. Becky does take her hero job seriously, but she does have an ego from time to time (her dad's fault). Becky understands that she has magical powers and knows how to use them. She doesn't realize yet how powerful they are because as far as she knows, magical powers had skipped over her dad and got passed onto her. Becky wears her hair down in civilian mode but has it in a braided in her hero mode. As for her civilian outfits, she doesn't stick to her canon outfit and just wears a different choice for different days. Becky will define words but not as often in this au. For two reasons, one, she doesn't see a need as to define words to help people, mainly just telling them to look it up. She will give definitions to young kids and some of her villains. She will also define difficult words not used in everyday conversation. The second reason is because her words are magical in a way. Basically if she defines them casually, nothing happens. But if she defines a certain word when her emotions are intense such as catastrophic or miscellaneous, then yeah, something happens and it is not always good. Family: Becky is close with her dad and her grandparents. She has asked about her mom at a young age but stopped after seeing her dad seem sad, talking about her mom. Becky knows her mom is alive but she and her dad had to split because of personal issues and Steven was the only one capable of raising her. Becky has visited her aunt a lot and likes spending time with her when she is not busy. She notices the poor woman gets stressed a lot with her work. Becky has met her uncle Victor a few times and he is nice to her, but Becky notices some tense feelings between her dad and uncle even though no one will elaborate on that. She is closer with her grandpa Matthew than her grandpa Carl. She likes her grandpa Carl but he always appears to be zoned out and mutter unintelligible words sometimes. He also acts paranoid and frightened of his own shadow a lot. Her dad explained its just old age and he is well taken care of by his cousin and Matthew though Becky hasn't met the cousin. @melodythebunny @dualnaturedscientist

[necle]

Maybe its partially a coincidence, or not that big of a deal. But as I watch this series, Momo’s choice of words and decisions kind of worries me a bit.

(yes I know Momo mentioned he only dogeza one other time and that was with Yuki. But doesnt change he suggested him doing that just last episode, albeit with more powerful people. Even Ryo said “This doesn’t feel rare coming from you”).

The way he willingly offers to puts himself in harms ways and tries to sacrifice himself to protect those around him is a surprisingly amount of times (its not something I noticed immediately, or had written off for reasons related to situation’s circumstances. But seeing this keep happening over time, at least compared to other characters…). And while nothing luckily has come of it yet, its been a pattern since Second Beat. Who knows how long has he has been doing this before he’s been introduced.

Even when he made the deal with Ryo, he doesn’t even bring up protecting himself. Just Yuki, and only him.

In general, Momo is really kind and generous person that goes above and beyond to help those around him (offered his MC spots to Mitsuki to promote i7′s show; helped his NEXT Re:vale guests / costars when they were nervous; gave Yamato advice and a safe space to talk; the times Re:vale has helped TRG and IDOLiSH7 including recommending IDOLiSH7 to the Zero Arena Inauguration manager, covering for i7′s show when Riku wasn’t feeling well, the gifts they given to i7 despite them dealing with their own problems, offered Iori & Mitsuki and Yamato a place to stay until they can sort out their group problems without question, some undisclosed stuff Anasagei mentioned that they helped with TRG, etc). But when this is coupled with the more extreme cases referenced at the beginning, he is very selfless to a concerning extent. Not saying he does it on purpose like a death wish or martyr complex. But it certainly feels there is not much trace of concern for his own well being.

Momo had say Ryo was the “master of psychological attacks” and we know exactly what Ryo aimed for with Yuki (which is a lot more concrete and explicit). But I wonder if Ryo is also aware about that side of Momo, and had tried to play into that when he offered that deal with him.

And if it is (because it feels really subtle), is Momo aware of it? Or is that something Momo does know about himself but still does so regardless?

Luckily, nothing serious has resulted from it yet and probably wont for a while since their subplot got resolved last cour and this cour at least seems more focused on TRIGGER and ZOOL. But I don’t know if this is meant signify a certain personality trait within Momo or allude to something that happened in the past.

It might mostly stem from him not making his dream of going to the soccer nationals and viewing old Re:vale as his saviors, so he genuinely feels like he has to devote his life to Yuki and others. But the fact we haven’t seen how Momo and Ryo exactly met, or what happened for them to be such ‘close friends’ makes it difficult to rule out some things. Especially since Re:vale’s rep is being known to be from the small agency that rose out of poverty.

To summarize my thoughts and questions (with the most hella ambiguous response from Momo):

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

helpless destruction

catastrophe is a haphazard companion of a spirit

who never got a chance to feel real

if your true confessions of pain aren't believed

how can you claim its authentic to others

when one absorbs the shame of a thousand shameless acts

it's rather difficult to trust your own perspective

catastrophe has a way to convincing even the most

reluctant of believers into begging for a grace

that even the merciful angels are contracted to ignore

trust is a process between two people who take risks

trust can be given by the cognitive mind

but the body has a way of remembering sabotage

and the mind notices patterns of like feelings

so trust goes beyond our consciousness

you did tell me you didn't trust me

and you proved that to be true, didn't you?

I don't blame you for it

life doesn't always give us many reasons to have faith

especially during a time where we are learning

all sorts of painful lessons in the darkness

hypervigilance allows you to read a person in a way

that reveals feelings in micro expressions and gestures

but I'm no longer hypervigilant

the spectrum of my thinking allows me to take in

every inch of detail in a situation or a person

but I will no longer respond to subtext

if you cannot own your own passion than

someone will own it for you

if you discard an honest heart

do not blame it for biting the hand that wrote lies

about what kind of beat it keeps in love

I may not be paid to act in roles to entertain

but I do have a choice in which roles I play in life

the world is my stage just as it is yours

and if you make all your choices subconsciously

you never learn the path to your own destruction

or how to redeem your own good graces

and make the best moves in a game

that is meant to serve you

not the other way around

[nancydrewwouldnever]

Didn’t he say in a SMA snippet that he picks roles based on where/how they are filming? Said he doesn’t want to be living out of a suitcase for 6 months somewhere random. And notice his recent movies were mostly filmed in Atlanta, with a team/crew/director he knows, he stays in the same house there too. I swear he chooses roles where he can stay in his comfort zone. Tell me you have anxiety. I know this because I have it and I make choices based on the same things! Not good for growth though.

Yes, he said something along those lines somewhere in there. I think the big reason, though, is Dodger. While he can take Dodger most places in America during shooting, it's difficult due to restrictions to take Dodger to some foreign locations.

But, a breakdown of where he's been filming of late (list starts in 2015), in filming chronology order. You'll see a pattern.

Gifted - ATL & Savannah

Red Sea Diving Resort - South Africa, Namibia

Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame - ATL, with a couple of scenes in Scotland

Knives Out - MA

Defending Jacob - MA, with a couple of scenes in Mexico

TGM - Long Beach, France, Prague

Ghosted - ATL, Savannah, D.C., London

Pain Hustlers - Savannah, Miami, ATL

Red One - ATL

Let's face it, ATL is now the reality you can 't get away from in filming. Are many things even filmed in CA anymore?