#realized the symbol was pretty similar in appearance to both species so might as well make it apply to both lol

[gendertech]

protogender/primagender: a gender related to the protogen/primagen furry species. may also be related to the species’ lore or community, but doesn’t have to be.

symbol under the cut!

[sneakerdoodle]

On Second Citadel and unity

It was interesting to me that, after making Junoverse a very poignant gender utopia (and general lgbt-utopia, too), Kabert went ahead and made their second storyline so heavily centered around bigotry and discrimination (dealing with topics of ableism, mysogyny, homophobia). now, obviosuly, Junoverse is not even remotely free of inequality, and as far as the mentioned topics are handled this utopia is not disability-friendly, with prosthetics not being readily available with no charge, which, like many other things, strips people of their autonomy, turns them into a rich man’s plaything. But here inequality is arguably explored from the point of exploitation of one human being by another, of abuse of power (interpersonal and social-scale). Whereas Second Citadel opens with an episode about two knights - a disabled one and a woman one - both of whom struggled for similar reasons, so there is supposedly little power imbalance here. And yet they do not see eye to eye, even more so, one of them furthers the other’s discrimination. We can speculate that that’s Sir Caroline’s effort to fit in - strengthen the sense of her hard-earned belonging by othering someone who never got that right to belong. Which doesn’t make it any less infuriating and damaging, but sets the tone of the story very well. There is no strong thriving off the weak. There are just people infinitely rejecting one another on the basis of their differences, often under the weight of their own rejection.

The topic of ostracization and discrimination is tackled in almost every arc of SC, but the idea of othering extends beyond it. The central conflict, the ongoing war is between monsters and humans - and while we’re more familiar with the human side of it, while we may learn more about the history of their conflict and who wronged whom first and worst, for now we’ve seen both humans and monsters express deep disgust for each other and one another’s way of living. And then the same happens on a smaller scale, within one species: we see the mutual disdain between Northerners and Southerners. Sir Caroline is different not only as a woman but as a foreigner; the Cinderclasp episode made it far too clear that the attitude to foreigners in the South is no better. 

And all of that unravels against the backdrop of pretty phrases about unity that get repeated over and over. “Strength in Unity”. “Two in unity, simple, strong”. I believe those are not instruments of irony, however, but keys to the central message, echoes of this societies’ past and - hopefully - foreshadowing of their future.

Sir Caroline twists the meaning of that unity in order to keep her authority:

ANGELO: Sir Caroline, I really don't think-- CAROLINE: What is the primary edict of our Citadel, Sir Angelo? ANGELO: Strength in unity. Of course. CAROLINE: And the sooner you all remember that, the safer humanity will be in these Northern Wilds. Hypocrites. The lot of you. Unified only when it’s convenient. No better than monsters in that way: greed governs all, and everyone just does what they want to get what they want. If you just listened to authority, real authority, you might actually be safe.

And that happens to highlight what unity is not: giving up one’s autonomy and approach and unique competence to fit into someone else’s model of desired reality. 

Here Damien’s words about perspectives come into play. However labored and uncomfortable they were, showing his inability to not fixate on what separates others from him, they are important as a piece of the meta puzzle: they make us think of inherent value of different experiences.

DAMIEN: My kind, kind friend. I agree that it is a shame that we cannot trust these men. They would be valuable allies, as Sir Caroline was – for moving through the world as she has, in a life quite different from ours, has clearly gifted her with ways of thinking that you and I would never come to. ANGELO: Very true, very true. DAMIEN: And so I am certain that given Marc’s...situation, he too must have a perspective of great value in our mission. But the simple fact is that he cannot be trusted.

The importance of these lines is backed up in Lady of the Lake, when Caroline is instructed to use specific characteristics of her subordinates and turn them into strength that would aid the mission. We are told over and over that true unity is in embracing our differences, valuing them and working together to make these differences work in everyone’s favour. 

There is something to be said about quite careless exploitation of Damien’s neurodivergency of course, but that is once again the warped verison of true unity, showing what unity is not, but also simultaneously giving us some idea of its potential. At the core, behind Sir Caroline’s personal errors, the message is kinder, broader. We are told again and again that the importance of the unqiue approach, unique way of thought, unique operation of our minds can enrich our shared experience and cooperation beyond measure.

So when later on Sir Caroline instead tries to suffocate any challenge to her authority, any alternative point of view, it comes as the biggest whiplash.

And of course, when discussing the monster-human antagonism in this vein, the Moonlit Hermit arc gives some truly invaluable material. Rilla and Arum’s interactions are strongly based on the differences of their approach to the world, with Rilla’s being a rational one and Arum operating on what can be called intuition, spiritual sense and probably instinct. He despises attempts to rationalize the free broad flow of the universal energy.

And what we see is two of them coming together, sharing their views of the world and finding something useful, fascinating, beautiful in the point of view that seemed so unthinkable before. That culminates in the truly breathtaking scene of their discussion of the nature of music, whether it’s magic or math:

RILLA: I mean..why can’t it be both? ARUM: Nonsense. RILLA: No, I mean...maybe that’s what makes music special. It uses these predictable scales and measures and combines them with some unpredictable, something-- ARUM: Magic. And what comes out isn’t really either. It’s...more.

“It’s more”. Can’t overstate how hard this hits. And the parallel between this theory and Rilla and Arum’s relationship is more than on the nose, proving to us once again that the idea of unifying our different experiences and perspectives as something incredibly valuable, something that creates something new, rich, priceless, that is more than just a sum of the two, is central to the narrative.

What is interesting to me in the Moonlit Hermit arc is the distinction that is made between the monsters and the humans. Humans are supposedly rational while monsters speak of magic and the Universe - what a fun narrative is that! Monstrous spirituality... And then later on we have Damien raging at his saint, yelling “It is only monsters who listen to their heart above all!” - but apparently it is not. 

The new season offered some helpful context to that, specifically - the Thought Stream. Obviously referencing the Tarot, it has four suites resembling the Minor Arcana while what can be called the Major Arcana is not a part of the deck usually but something that appears unpredictably (specifically: Olala’s card that does not belong to the Wilds, Wastes, Frosts or Mirrors suit). 

The four Tarot suits (Swords, Cups, Wands and Pentacles) represent different areas of our life, separated: Intellect, Emotion, Spirituality/Creativity and the Material. Mind, Heart, Spirit and Body.

The four suits also correspond with the four elements. And Water is the one corresponding with Heart, with our emotions. I do not think it to be a coincidence that Saint Damien - the one encouraging his follower to listen to his heart, teaching him tranquility i.e. not losing oneself in the stream of emotion, the one teaching how to let one’s heart guide not stir - has water and the waves as his symbol.

So if Damien is Heart, Rilla is definitely Mind: she is analytical, a determined problem solver. I believe Arum represents the Wands: the Spirit and the fire - and that it is a symbol connected to monsters’ society in general. 

Wands suit deals with passionate creation, with realizing one’s vision, bringing something into the world. That seems in line with the monstrous philosophy in general. They talk of one’s place decided by the Universe, they say one is justified in their actions as long as they truly do what they want, follow where their passion guides them. There is quite a bit of hypocrisy there as we can see in the Spiral Sage arc, the monster society may just be keeping the platitudes while giving in to the power of the strongest no matter the Universe’s place for the weak - but the ideal is still there, and it is one Arum seems to follow wholeheartedly. (Hence his interpretation of Damien seemingly abandoning his path as a lack of character.)

The same idea - one’s place in the Universe - is brought up again in the first part of “The Fool in the Garden of Death”, showing this belief spreads beyond monsters’ society, into the Western Wastes. None of the elements, be it Heart or Spirit, are strictly one species’; however, we’re dealing with different cultures and ways of life people are most accustomed to, prioritizing different aspects of life. And we’re being shown that maybe engaging with each other is what those cultures are supposed to do.

The Thought Stream’s deck is made up of four suits corresponding with four ends of the world, four parts of it. Where in Tarot we have aspects in Thought Stream we have places. This reinforces the concept of different aspects of life, different ways of approaching it, corresponding with specific societies. 

Each of the suits is given an identity, but all of them make up one deck.

After all, what’s one aspect of a being without all the rest? Reign of just one’s Mind, Heart, Spirit or Body - how long can it last before turning destructive?

True strength is in balance of different elements - in unity that recognizes the value of each of them.

I have a theory that the ideals of the Second Citadel are the forgotten and revamped mottos of the beings of Fort Terminus: “two in unity” being not two partners but two worlds, monster and human, coming together to create something that is more, something new and powerful and full of potential. Capable of building something as impressive as the Bridge. I also have a theory that the Bridge is a parallel to the Tower of Babel. Which brings us to the idea of a divided world unable to see past the differences between societies, and through that losing the power that unity used to give it.

Showing the world where difference is shunned and leads to ostracism, where people that come from different places fail to acknowledge each other’s humanity and refuse to embrace their differences, where two species fail to accept the other’s way of living and deny the enemy their humanity/monstrosity, the Second Citadel storyline is offering a greater value as an endgoal: embracing difference and diversity, seeing strength in what sets us apart from each other, and recognizing that we all complete one another, like the four aspects of our own being, like four pillars upon which the sky rests. Deny one single pillar’s importance and wait for it to come crashing down on you. It says: to know true strength, we should welcome any and all experience, all of the unique perspectives, celebrate the differences that make our shared existence so much richer and make us so much more capable to deal with challenges of life. Strength in unity - not in uniformity.

[mistbornthefinal]

Madoka Magica Aniversary Analysis: Part 9

Can Love and Courage Still Triumph?

The beginning of this episode replays the end of the last, Sayaka’s transformation into a witch. As Oktavia von Seckendorff looms over her Kyouko is initially uncomprehending or perhaps in denial of what just happened happened. Kyouko grabs Sayaka’s body as it falls and is forced to dodge a barrage of Okatavia’s signature wheels. Homura arrives on the scene and sets off another flashbang and the offers Kyouko her hand.

Kyouko takes it and we get our first look and Homura’s timestop from an inside perspective. Within the stopped time Kyouko demands to know where that witch came from and what happened to Sayaka, Homura reiterates the truth that Kyouko is unwilling to internalize, Sayaka has become a witch. Homura then says that unless Kyouko is unwilling to discard Sayaka’s body then they will have to run. Kyouko can not do that so they exit the barrier. (cue connect)

We find Madoka walking morosely along the railroad tracks only to run into Kyouko and Homura walking in the opposite direction. Seeing Sayaka’s lifeless body Madoka tearfully asks what happened to her friend. Homura lays it out her Soul Gem shattered and became a Grief Seed, Sayaka is gone. That is the final secret of the Soul Gem when they fully darken they become Grief Seeds and a girl is reborn as a witch. This is the inescapable fate of those who become magical girls. In payment for the number of people Sayaka has saved Oktavia will curse and equal number of people.

Of course this sort of law karmic balancing that the girls have been claiming for the past few episodes doesn’t really hold up if you think about it. Mami saved a large number of people and cursed no one due to dying before she became a Witch. Heck Kyubey’s whole operation sort of requires a certain amount of unfair exchange to be possible given they use magic to extent the life of the universe and leave other species with the bill.  That said it’s easy to buy equivalent exchange as something the characters believe,(especially Homura who at this point want’s to resolve her wish as “a life for a life”) but it’s something that Madoka’s wish ultimately rejects. 

Kyouko is angered by Homura’s cold words in the face of Madoka’s grief grabbing her by the collar, but Homura simply continues her monologue telling Madoka that this is the truth of what she aspired to become. Homura then tell Kyouko that there will be trouble if she isn’t cautious about disposing of the body. Kyouko similar to Madoka in episode 7 asks Homura how she can call herself human.

“I can’t, of course. And neither can you.”

We find Madoka sitting on her bed when Kyubey come for a visit. Madoka is unsurprised to find him alive, and he confirms that nothing that Homura said is wrong enough to require further explanation. He then lays out the reasoning behind the system his kind have inflicted on humanity. When the Soul Gem undergoes phase change a tremendous amount of energy is released and that energy is their ultimate goal. It is a source of power unbounded by thermodynamics that they can use to stave off the heat death of the universe. 

While he implies that this is ultimately for the benefit of humanity as well (and that humanity will eventually join the interstellar community) the next episode proves he is full of shit. That they have a fixed quota of energy that they expect each planet to produce and express no regret at humanities immanent extinction strongly implies that the extinction of the client species is the expected end state of their operation. In which case the relationship is purely predatory regardless of what he might claim in episode 11. 

He also gives the fig leaf that the girls all consented but that’s a weak dodge. Like forget informed consent this is maliciously and deliberately misinformed consent, he may claim that his species doesn’t understand the concept of deception that doesn’t seem to stop him from doing it constantly. Also while it’s not brought up I can’t help but feel then need to point towards all the normal humans who never consented to anything and are being eaten by witches regardless. 

Kyubey then says that given that there are billions of human’s he doesn’t understand why the death of a single human has her bent out of shape. 

you tell ‘em Madoka

Kyubey gives yet another sales pitch this time stressing the vas amounts of delicious energy she will produce when she becomes a horrible monster. Leaving with.

“So, if you ever feel like dying for the sake of the universe, just let me know.”

We check in on Kyouko who is using her magic to stop Sayaka’s gem from decaying. Kyubey shows himself to ask why and Sayaka answers his question with another question. “Can Sayaka be brought back.” Kyubey uses ambiguous phrasing to give Kyouko false hope like the dick he is. We leave this scene with Kyouko stuffing her face making it pretty clear that her eating habits are less “endearing character quirk” and more “worrying coping mechanism.”

As Madoka is walking to school with Hitomi (who tragically unaware of what has happened), Kyouko calls out to her with telepathy asking her if she’s really just going to go to school after what happened yesterday? Realizing that the fate of her friends soul is probably more important than compulsory education Madoka ditches Hitomi runs off. 

Kyouko tells Madoka that she can’t abandon Sayaka so long as there hope she can be saved. (and potentially even if there isn’t) He friends voice might still be able to reach her, might bring her back to humanity. Madoka asks if that will really work to which Kyouko replies that she has no idea. She want’s to do this because she doesn’t know, because that uncertainty allows room for hope

“Maybe if we slice that witch in half, Sayaka’s Soul Gem will fall out instead of a Grief Seed. Wouldn’t that be something? It’d be like one of those stories where love and courage triumph over all. Come to think about it, I probably became a magical girl in the first place because I loved stories like that. I’d totally forgotten about it, but Sayaka reminded me again.”

You did it Kyouko, you boiled your character arc down to the bare essentials. Kyouko asks Madoka if she is willing to help even if Kyouko can’t promise her safety or success. Madoka cinnamon roll that she is accepts immediately offers  her hand into which Kyouko places a piece of candy in lieu of a handshake. 

Back at school Homura decides to dich as soon as it’s clear that Madoka isn’t coming. 

As the two of them search for Oktavia’s labyrinth, Madoka asks if Homura is going to help them. Kyouko says no and denies that Homura is her friend, they simply share a common goal, to defeat Walpurgisnact an enemy neither of them could face alone. 

Within the barrier Madoka asks Kyouko if she is a coward for always leaving the fighting to others. Kyouko flips the script her life is happy one, to abandon that, to become a Puella Magi for a mere whim is the height of stupidity. Kyouko won’t allow it, if Madoka did she would be the first to kick her ass. 

“The only people who should put their lives in danger are those who’ve got no other choice. Anyone else is just playing around.”

Kyouko then says there might be a time when Madoka has no choice but to fight, she should only consider the contract then.

We then arrive at the center of the labyrinth, or rather Oktavia realizes that she has intruders and they are pulled to the center. Oktavia’s familiars supply the background music as Madoka glimpses the remnant of her friend for the first time. She calls out to Sayaka but Oktavia’s only reply is to summon her wheels.

Kyouko raises her barrier and perpares herself to intercept the Witches attacks. As Madoka calls out to Sayaka Kyouko deflects a barrage of wheels with her spear. However Oktavia only steps up her attacks and Kyouko seems to be struggling to fight a purely defensive battle. 

As Kyouko starts to take hits she reminisces about her first encounter with Sayaka. She had dismissed the girl a first but she kept getting up no matter what. As she recalls that day red and blue flows across the screen froming the silhouette of Kyouko and Sayaka before resolving as flowing blood. Several wheels hit Kyouko and she is thrown backward. As Madoka moves to help Kyouko to her feet Oktavia seizes her in a massive armored gauntlet and begins to squeeze. 

Kyouko finally strikes severing the Witches limb and berating Sayaka. Oktavia brings her sword down shattering the floor and reveling an inverse of the concert hall they were in presided over by a familiar that resembles a certain boy.

Homura is there to catch Madoka. Kyouko apologises to Homura for dragging Madoka into her idiocy and the creates another of her barriers between her and Homura. The message there is clear. Kyouko acknowledges Homura’s mission focusing on the one thing she wants to protect above all else, Kyouko used to think that was what she was doing as well. She undoes her ponytail to reveal the symbol of her fathers faith that she had hidden in her hair, she never truly stopped believing. 

As Homura flees Kyouko summons spears from the earth in massive numbers including on large enough for her to ride. From her clasped hand she draws her Soul Gem that she has fused with the symbol of old faith.

“Don’t worry, Sayaka I know you don’t what to be alone. It’s ok. I’ll be here with you Sayaka.”

She then unleashes a massive attack through her own Soul Gem killing both her and Oktavia.

Back at the Homu-home Homura asks an interloping Kyubey if there was any chance for Kyouko’s plan to succeed. Kyubey admits that it was impossible and that he basically manipulated Kyouko to her death so Homura would have to face Walpurgisnact alone, and thus Madoka has no choice but to contract in order to save the city. Homura says that she will never let that happen.

For this episode Magia does not make it’s usual appearance instead replaced by “and I’m home” sing by Ai Nonaka and Eri Kitamura (VA’s for Kyouko and Sayaka respectively.)

And that’s Episode 9, when you get down to this Kyouko’s episode as much as Episode 10 is Homura’s episode. Kyouko what had come into the narrative preaching selfishness stakes it all on trying to save the girl who remined her of her old ideals. Now that the full weight of Kyubey’s system is reveled Kyouko tries to find a way out and in bittersweet way she does, choosing to expend her Soul Gem in a heroic sacrifice rather than fall into despair and become a Witch.

That said now there’s only one person standing in the way of Kyubey’s plans, though to a certain extent that’s how it’s always been.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “Grooming and Dominance”

This week I am going to ask you guys for some more ideas. I know I haven't done this in a while, but I want to write more of what you guys want to read. So if you have a favorite topic and style in which you prefer it written, just tell me and I’ll see what I can do :)

The cameras viewfinder is clouded by dark grey steel, the tiny grains that run through the metal slowly inch past as the camera wobbles sideways and into a better position. A sliver of light appears, and then the camera focuses in on an image. Half of the camera’s view is still obstructed by the corner, but the other half can see. Around the door frame, through the room, and into another door, the camera watches.

“Today I will be talking all about human grooming rituals. Primarily used as a status symbol for social hierarchy and to attract a mate, humans are known to be the only species that choose a mate based on these grooming standards rather than the physical health of the prospective mate in question.” The camera zooms in a little further focusing on the tall powerful back of a human. In the glittering ambient light of the room, the muscles on its bare back churn and roll as taut cords below the skin, the same muscles that allowed the human to stand as a bipedal. Though the human’s head is turned away, its face was reflects back into the light of the camera. As the camera zooms in, the human tilts its large head to the side using one large paw to, with surprising delicacy, drag a strange device down the side of its face cutting a trail of bare skin through the strange foamy substance.

“For those of you who don’t know,” Comes the whispered voice, “This is Vir, my favorite human, he is male and current alpha of this human pack. Now, as I can attest as the human’s medical officer, he is in top physical health for a human male, and well within perfect mating age. Current human mating viability lasts anywhere from age 11 to 50, of course human pack practices generally tend to forbid mating below the age of 18. When I say viability, I mean only the ability to bare offspring, and not the morality of doing so.” The human runs the strange device down the side of his face again, “By all accounts this particular human would be a perfect genetic candidate to pass on offspring, however, as far as I am aware, he has never participated in ANY mating related rituals known to humans.” The camera leans out a little further form the wall, “This confuses me, and I am beginning to wonder if there aren’t other extraneous factors that have caused this.” He sneaks a little closer, and the human seems to remain unaware of his presence, “This particular grooming practice is an interesting one. Male and female humans can generally be identified by their ability to grow hair on their faces, the human male can and the human female cannot. Now in certain instances, human males use this facial hair as a dominance symbol to other males, a similarity you might find with wild Glorg Beasts and their horns. The larger the “beard” as one might call it the more masculine the human.”

The human lifts his chin and drags the object down his neck, “However, this is not always the case. In fact many high status human males do not use beards to signify their masculinity. Generally in absence of a beard you may find a male using his social status, or his nest and territory as a symbol of masculinity. This human has social status to show his dominance and so removes the beard to maintain the visual. He will operate in this practice every day to fill the correct part.” The human finishes leaning down to the basin of water to cup a glittering pool within his large claw-tipped hands, “Many human males and females, including this one participate in hunting practices to strengthen their body. Very few humans are able to maintain this particular pattern of musculature.” The human turns around shaking water from his face droplets breaking to fall in all directions. His sides rise and fall with the powerful pull of the massive bellows supplying oxygen to his blood. The camera focuses on this movement, as the humans head swivels on a thick muscular neck above a wide chest. The sheer power of the human made his body appear bulging and thick compared too many other species.

As he turns his eyes fall on Krill immediately locking into place like a precision targeting system. The body immediately tenses and the head lowers chin covering the soft neck. The human’s hypermobile face twists, and the line of hair above its single eye raises. The strange growling and grumbling begins as the human stalks closer.

“You will be aware by now that the human is attempting to dominate me for moving in on his territory. You see I am violating normal human practices, and now he must let me know of that. See how he stands a little taller, stretches out his muscles, human males present like this often especially when shirtless. It is a very primitive domination technique that humans often don’t realize they are doing.”

The human pauses noticeably slouching. He chirps something at the camera.

“See I have successfully out dominated him in his territory. Sometimes when a human is more physically imposing than you, it is often prudent to outsmart them. Confusing them will give you the upper hand.”

As he speaks the humans eyes widen a little, the line of hair above the eye rises higher. The head tilts slowly to the side then froze before suddenly lunging towards the camera. The image rattles violently from side to side spinning and tilting until the camera turns to view the original narrator. The small figure is well below the human’s eye-line and scuttles after swiping for the camera it cannot reach.

The strange human barking begins in earnest zooming in on the Dr. as it backs away.

The Dr. swipes for the camera, “Of course now he knows that, he is INTENT on proving his dominance over me. Human males LOVE to use their height as a source of dominance to shorter species, and also shorter humans, just watch. If you ever see a human with an object over their head trying to keep it out of reach from other humans, you know what they are doing it for. It is very much a dominance tactic.”

***

The screen slowly winks on from blackness and The Dr.’s face can be seen. His voice is very low, “I have spent much of my time around the male of the human species, but now that I am working with Dr. Katie on a regular basis, I have found that female human grooming rituals can be FAR more extensive.” He turns the camera around and movies quietly into the medical bay. The room is empty, but a sound can be heard just barely through the speakers. It is mesmerizing absolutely hypnotic in nature, like a thousand Windwisps in unison. The sound rises and then falls and then spins tracing patterns through sound, “Can you hear her? Both male and female humans are capable of producing these sounds, however I find the female humans to be most pleasant since their vocal range spends more time within our appropriate range of hearing.”

He turns the corner slowly zooming in on the female human. It’s honestly quite difficult to tell the difference between the male and the female. She is a tad smaller and slimmer than her male counterpart, but her body still churns with powerful human muscles emphasizing her powerful graceful movement as she sways back and forth in time with her own haunting voice. Her long dark fur waves around her shoulders, and the light that plays over it. “The human female can spend anywhere from no time to almost two hours preening themselves. The female dominance structure is not so dissimilar to males. They use body strength and social status to get where they want to be, but often human females compete by way of competitive face painting. First, like the male, the female will attempt to whiten their teeth. They do this at least twice a day with flavored paste doused in chemicals, healthy straight teeth indicate both genetic health and physical wealth. After than she will attempt to make her skin look clearer, also an indication of physical health.” He zooms in on the human as she shimmies back and forth in some strange hypnotic dance. In one hand she is holding a strange cylindrical object using it as a microphone as she makes her strange and beautiful singing noises, “The primitive human brain recognizes facial gender based on tonal theory, and can you really blame them as if human males and females weren’t already impossible to tell apart. The male tends to have a single-tone face with the lips and the eyes appearing the same shade as the surrounding skin. Human females on the other hand have slightly darkened lips and surrounding eyes she will darken both her lips and her eyes in order to heighten these features all by using strange pastes and sticks.”

The human female opens her mouth wide after pressing her lips together showing a line of sharp white teeth glistening with moisture.

“Both male and female humans use their head-fur for attraction purposes some wear it short and others wear it long. Human hair is also an indication of physical health, which is why many female humans groom it so religiously and so regularly. Humans tend to prefer soft, shiny hair when it is long. She will attempt to use that heated rod to curl the strands making the hair look bigger. The more pretty fur you have, the better.” He steps a bit closer, “The most important part for a human female? The eyes. There are theories out there that the human eye is a window to what is known as the soul. Now, personally I think the theory is a whole load of waffle. But some say that the human, as we understand it, is only the pupae form of a human, and that the more powerful essence of a human resides inside like a cocoon. When the human ‘dies’ it is not actually death but some sort of evolution to the next stage of life. Some say that human highlight the eyes because it is the only place where you can see this powerful being hidden.” He snorts and begins to laugh, “Of course that is a complete load of it.” More chuckling, “Humans don’t just wait for this fur to grow. If they want longer fur, they will actually attach fake or donated fur to their own. In fact, there is a market out there simply for fur where humans cell and buy it. The claws of the hands are also points of notice. Both human females and males have each of their claws manicured to a specific size and shape, and will often put clear or colored gels on top to preserve the claw and make them stand out.”

He steps even closer, but as he does, the camera shakes suddenly. Something clatters to the floor with a loud bang. The human is on its feet immediately spinning in a tight circle so fast it is almost hard to catch. Her large, dark eyes are narrowed, her chin is lowered. Her entire body is taught muscle ready to pounce one foot one way and one foot another. In one hand she brandishes the hot cylinder. Her teeth are barred.

However, when she sees rill her body relaxes and she tilts her head to the side in that strange way that humans have. She shows her teeth again and chirps something.

“See, the human female is much less territorial than the male. If the lips are pulled back and the head is lowered, showing the teeth is not good, like you saw at first, but with wide eyes and a lifted chin it is a good thing. This particular human is a healthy female specimen 32 years old 128 pounds, almost sixty pounds less than the male.” The humans head tilts even further and she hoots at him from where she stands.

“She is very curious, just like the alpha, but since we share this space, she is likely to be much less territorial.” The human moves forward setting her object down at the table as she does. Her eyes are wide and curious as she approaches the camera. The noises she makes are higher than the male human’s but in the same general cadence.

“Let’s see what she does.”

A deeper grumble emanates from behind the camera, and the Dr. Turns to find the alpha standing in the doorway, “The alpha is here likely to make sure I am staying in my place like I should in the human pack. If I cause trouble it is his job to appropriately discipline me.” The human walks around in a wide circle coming to stand next to the female human.

He chirps something at her and she responds back. “Look at how the humans never stand facing each other directly. Directly facing another human is an invitation to fight or a challenge, they always stand at a 45 degree angle from each other.” The humans glance down at their feet. “See how he has stopped trying to dominate me now that he is in my territory. You will also notice that, even though he is the alpha he will not try to dominate her. Generally he only tends to do that to his subordinates if they are doing something wrong. He is also not a particularly dominating human.”

The two humans glance at each other communicating with their strange body movements. He tilts his chin in Krill’s direction, and she raises her head in acknowledgement.

“See the bodily communication they are using, they are trying to communicate without letting me know what they are planning. “ The female human began to move forward. The Dr. Backs away.

His camera is once again taken from him, and the humans park themselves on one of the medical benches camera pointing at Krill as they chirp back and forth animatedly.

Krill sighs as they continue to chirp, “Getting two sociable humans together often results in this playful behavior. But I probably won’t get my camera back for a while.”

 Unadded Translation

Is this your new hobby now, Krill spying on people when they’re half naked?

What? No, I wasn’t trying to dominate you. Where the hell did that come from?

This big ugly insect is Krill, you probably think he’s being clever, but he’s really just being a massive ass. I have recently become aware that assery isn’t the natural state of their species.

 Krill what are you doing here. Are you filming me?

Talking about my weight now are we?

There you are Krill, I’ve been looking for you.

Morning Dr. Katie, he isn’t bothering you is he?

No, not really but he is being sort of silly. Talking about us like we’re animals at the zoo

Hello this is Commander Vir and Dr. Katie, bringing you live footage of a Vrul in its natural habitat. See how it scuttles across the floor like that raising its arms, that’s the universal signal for. I am small short and weak and I can’t get my camera back on my own without help. The Vrul are supposed to be very smart, but we are pretty sure this one comes damaged. Very terrible brain trauma at birth, quite crazy.

If you are looking for more stories in this sort of style, I have one right here for you :) 

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/184927962095/humans-are-space-orcs-my-humans

[ryuukia]

[Translation] Tsukiuta. -if- Black Rabbits Kingdom Booklet Novel: Noon

This took a bit more than I was expecting (I caught one hell of a cold so I’m slow, sorry) but finally here’s the second chapter from the black booklet. This was really a rollercoaster. Going from rabbits kooking to d’aaaaaw-ing over Aoi and Hajime.

Assisting translators and proofreaders: @ryota-kunstranslations and @moonlit-manifesto (thank you so much again!!)

Please don’t repost/reuse my translations.

A yawn could be heard, subtly breaking the ordinary humdrum.

He just laughed the moment he got caught.

“You woke up just a while ago, but you’re sleepy already?”

“Nn…… I guess.”

The fact that he didn’t even deny it made me smile even more.

The sight of him smiling and chuckling softly just gives off that “as expected of the prince” impression.

It’s hard to imagine that this face was covered in mud and playing in the back alleys 10 years ago.

However, that is also true.

——In this world, no [royal family] was born.

On a certain day and at a certain time, the one to take over as the leader of our species, our [king], was suddenly elected through a revelation from heaven.

There was no prior notice, and things like birthplace, breed, age, gender were irrelevant.

That guy next door whom you considered to be your equal could suddenly become the [king] overnight. All in all, this world’s structure is unusual and surprising.

That is the way our world has continued to exist for a long time.

How is the [king] chosen by heaven?

At what time will the [king] be appointed?

What is this “heaven” in the first place?

It seems that this topic has been investigated by higher-ups and scholars for a long time, though in the end no clear answer has been offered.

But even so, people know.

Normally, in one person’s lifetime, it’s possible for a number of people to suddenly hear the voice of heaven at least three times.

“Aah, our king was born just now,” was what they’d say excitedly as they looked up at the sky.

The [king] and the [prime minister].

Those two are the pillars of the country, the people who create the foundation.

They will be born no matter what time period, they have no imperfections, and they are one with the world.

[Prince]

An individual so rare and unusual that he is born once every few hundreds of years.

During the period when a [prince] exists, the country flourishes, nature thrives, and due to the grandeurs he brings, he’s considered a symbol of happiness by many.

One theory says that the [prince] is born when the [king]’s power is too great, in order to take over some of that overflowing power, or something along those lines…… Although the theory exists, the real truth is still unknown.

The only thing I need to know is that my childhood friend, Aoi, is this country’s [prince], the one considered by everyone a symbol of happiness.

“The [prince], huh?”

“Hm? What’s with you all of a sudden, Arata?”

“No…...I was wondering, if I stay by Aoi-kun’s side, who is a lucky symbol, I might experience a very lucky ‘encounter’ with someone of the opposite gender or something.

I opened my mouth without any particular thought in my mind and I was already saying something stupid.

But as I was doing so I started to think (hey, that’s not that bad).

On the other hand, Aoi’s shoulders stiffened, and soon after he showed a tight-lipped smile.

(Oh, good grief)

For the longest time, this guy has been especially popular and yet when it comes to topics like these he really can’t handle them.

“......Uhm……That kind of complex… thing… happening that might be lucky for some people is out of range for my power, I think...... probably...”

“Eeh~......”

Whoops, the voice I let out sounded more dissatisfied than I intended it to be.

Ah, look, Aoi’s eyes became colder.

“…...Arata. If you have spare time, please peel those apples over there.”

“Apples? Oh, these ones? Roger, roger.”

It’s not a good idea to anger Aoi who, despite being kind to everyone, doesn’t really go easy on me.

I went to the basket of deep red apples and picked one up from the pile, proceeding to help out as I was told.

A refreshing fragrance tickles my nose.

And without realizing, I snorted. The fruit looked delicious.

‘I want you to bake an apple pie for the king! Ah, but I also want some too! As many as you can make!’

When Kakerun begged Aoi for his share in such an admirable and imploring manner, it was impossible to refuse.

Aoi and Kakeru are on good terms with each other.

When the words ‘for the king’ are attached to a request, its completion is prone to be expedited more so than before.

Well, that’s not only true for Aoi, but everyone born in this country would have almost the same reaction.

As expected from Aoi, he answered ‘with pleasure’ almost immediately as he placed all the supposedly important documents to his left side.

It’s unusual for someone as serious as Aoi to postpone work, despite having enough time left until the deadlines.

However, nobody could blame him.

Prime Minister Haru-san was with us when the discussion took place, and after five minutes he returned with these apples and big expectations for the execution of that pie.

And so have I.

Aoi’s homemade sweets are delicious.

I took out a knife from behind as I hummed a song and picked up an apple with the other hand. After that, I suddenly noticed something.

“Hm? Don’t you usually boil them first when you make apple pie?

“Eh? Ah, yes. That’s right. Today is special.”

Before I realized it, Aoi, who was right beside me, was already kneading the dough with a technique he’s so used to as he explained to me:

“Haru-san will use the peeled skin to make apple tea. We can have that together with the pie.”

“Eeh. Apple tea……. It’s the first time I've heard about something like that, but it sounds delicious.”

“Right? Today’s tea time will be filled with apples.”

Aoi’s humour and laughter is completely as usual.

He’s never angry, irritated, or holds any sort of similar unpleasant feelings for a long time, and he can improve his mood immediately. For that, I consider Aoi a really good guy - always looking at what’s around him, always thinking about those around him and always moving.

“It must be tiring~” is what I’d like to think but really, it’s more of a “Well, that’s his personality. It’d be troublesome if he weren’t like that.”

(That’s how things are, huh?)

I wonder if that’s true.

That’s why Aoi is the prince.

(Ah, but there are times when Aoi’s surroundings make me worry too. It’s always so lively.)

I won’t forget.

One week after Aoi moved to the castle, I was suddenly summoned.

——The castle is situated in the center of the country, a literal centerpoint.

For the members of the general public, the ordinary people, it’s also pretty much a disconnected area.

I was brought to such a place by the older brother of the envoy who was accepted under the ‘king’s imperial command’, and entered in secret through the backdoor.  

As the child I was, deep inside I was impatient to find out what important things might be there (even though my expression didn’t look anything like that). When I saw Aoi sleeping soundly as he clung closely to Hajime-san, it finally occurred to me that this was a fairly serious situation and that they were both very exhausted.

Nevertheless, Hajime-san told me something back then.

“He’s always crying at night.”

“Eh?”

“I’m sure he must be lonely. …...It’s my fault. This power was originally the burden of a single person, though I couldn’t prevent it from overflowing and a [prince] was born. He’s still a child.”

Aoi and I are the same age. Hajime-san is one year older (something I got to know afterwards).

Honestly, both of them are still [children].

However, Hajime-san, who considered Aoi to still be a ‘child’, seemed very strange to me at the time. Really, to me it felt a bit confusing that he was so mature in everything, save for his appearance.

While I was still bewildered, I said frankly.

“......If that’s the case, aren’t you, the king, also a child?”

Hajime-san opened his eyes a little.

And then, despite being faint and lasting only a few moments, he smiled.

“.......Maybe you’re right.”

After that, Hajime-san ignored the fact that I entered through the backdoor. When Aoi appeared and asked me why I was there with a face only he could make, I answered “It’s troublesome so I’ll live here.”

Hajime-san was surprised, but my reason was simple enough.

I didn’t want to see Aoi crying again, and the king also seemed to be interesting. I think I admired a little that envoy’s older brother who brought me here.

I thought that I wanted to look like that, too and that I wanted to have this job.

‘The envoy that was accepted under ‘the king’s imperial command’ …… sounded pretty good.

I’ve never told this to anyone, but at that time and even now, I aspire to be a ‘messenger of justice’.

So just like that, I started to live in the castle.

“Aoi……?”

“Yes?”

“Do you hate the fact that you became the [prince]?”

“...... You’re pretty direct, huh…”

“How would you like me to phrase it then?”

“Yeah, I get it. That’s so like Arata, huh.”

Aoi laughed out loud and raised his face from looking down at the bowl.

While looking straight into my eyes, he said.

“Not even once have I thought it to be something unpleasant. I am proud to be the [prince].”

I wonder why I felt relieved when I heard Aoi’s answer.

“Really?”

“Really.”

As soon as Aoi said that, his ears moved as if startled.

It’s become a habit of his when he’s searching for what to say.

It’s a habit of his when he’s serious.

That’s why I also showed my most serious expression (although apparently, it’s impossible to tell), and I waited for Aoi’s words.

“...... Perhaps, no matter what my heart might have wanted, I still would have accepted what the revelation declared. Even so, I’m definitely proud I was the one bestowed with this role. Someone has to do it, and I feel grateful for being chosen to do so.”

That fixed gaze Aoi displayed during our talk reminded me a bit of the king’s.

It might be because the [king] and the [prince] have an unusual bond, unbeknownst to any other person.

No, it might be because they resemble each other so much that those two became [king] and, respectively, [prince].

“It might sound like an excuse, but the reason why I cried when I was younger wasn’t because I disliked being the [prince]. I was…...just a little lonely.”

“You were lonely……?”

“Yes. I was lonely and scared because I had been suddenly separated from all the various things I had up until that point. It was a strange feeling. When I was closing my eyes, it was like I could see any corner of the world…… Being able to view to such a large extent was scary. It looked as if I was abandoned in that vast world…...”

“Really? …… A large visual field, huh?”

I was honestly impressed to find out the [king] and the [prince] have such powers.

I probably just heard a story that normally cannot be told so recklessly.

“However, now I know that’s not true. I can feel it. I was not abandoned by myself and I’m not a part of that wide world. We’re all together in this, everyone is supporting the world together with Hajime-san. That makes me happy. Happy and proud.”

Aoi said all that in one breath, then suddenly looked back at me.

His ears were fidgeting.

He has that habit when he’s restless.

“Uhm, well…. I got fired up because of this talk, but that’s how things are. I’m sorry I dragged you into this, though I am going to give my all for many years to come. That is my resolution.”

“What? I don’t think I was dragged in~. Rather than that…… Ah,”

The fact that I decided this by myself is a secret that I hadn’t revealed to Aoi until this very day.

So I shut my mouth in panic.

“?”

If I have to describe aloud being able to accomplish my dream job and my inner satisfaction, I could at least reduce the amount of teasing material.

So I decided to twist the story from the start.

“Hmm, actually, entering this place requires so many important things like procedures and appointments, but leaving is so simple. I only have to report that I’m going out, right?”

“Ah, yes. I was surprised by that too. It’s thanks to that fact that I can return home once in a while.”

That’s because you’re escorted (by me or someone else).

However, I’m certain when I say that the Kingdom of Black Rabbits is extremely peaceful.

People from other countries are envious of us, we have a good government managed by Hajime-san, and I can say that there’s no one here who’d ever think of attacking the prince, who’s like a friend to everyone.

The guard is only an artifice, and as soon as he’s near his family’s house, Aoi becomes carefree.

“It’s disappointing. I also can go home only once per week. Even someone as lazy as me can be of service to the castle. When the Uduki family found out I made it to a place that offers three meals a day and a nap at noon, they shed tears of joy.”

“That’s an exaggeration. Also…… that noon nap is probably not included?”

“That one is well, more like an option.”

“You’re doing it without permission.”

Just as he laughed, Aoi took out the dough from the bowl.

He places it on the table and picks up the rolling pin.

I instinctively leaned forward.

“D-do you want to stretch it? Do you want to be the one to do it instead?”

“Arata, you sure do like watching me stretch the dough.”

“It seems fun. Stretching it, putting it back, then stretching it again. It reminds me of clay.”

“Aah……, Arata certainly liked playing with clay and mud, didn’t you? There was a time when you kept on making mud balls en mass by yourself. Though you made too many and I got angry.”

“You’re wrong, You didn’t get angry because I made too many. I encircled the entrance door’s perimeter with 5 layers of mud balls. My elder sister couldn’t get out.”

“Ahaha.”

Aoi uses the rolling pin skillfully and the dough grows thinner and wider.

(Wide…… huh? Maybe the world spreads out just like this.)

It becomes bigger, wider, and changes its shape, but something remained the same.

Hajime-san became the king, but he’s still Hajime-san.

Aoi became the prince, but he’s still Aoi.

[essekknits]

So how long does quirk society exist in BNHA?

I’m going for a bigger estimate, which I will base on two assumptions.

All For One and One For All are both first generation quirk users.

The age difference between the users of One For All is 25 years or less.

First I will base those assumptions.

The first assumption is easy. All For One was said to use the chaos the appearance of quirks created in order to rule the criminal world, therefore I’m pretty sure I can say he was first generation quirk user, and so was his brother.

Now the second assumption is a bit harder to prove, but let me try to do it by painting you a picture, of what passing on their quirk would be like for the average One For All user, who is not the Symbol of Peace and is not slowly dying and losing their power because of a nearly fatal injury:

You’re a hero, and you hold One For All. You know that your quirk isn’t strong enough to defeat All For One yet, or you believe your predecessor defeated him. You also know that you need to develop it, and that your successor would need to do the same. What will you do first? You’ll continue cultivating that power as much as you can. That’s a given.

Now let’s say you reached the age of forty (as a hero with an extremely powerful quirk and hopefully good hero education you should probably be able to do that). You’re very strong, but there’s a problem. Through your stellar hero career, your body was under a lot of stress. The longer the career, the more stress on your body. Your cartilages are deteriorating. Your tendons are tearing. Your joints are beginning to ache. What will you do now, when you feel that you’ve reached your prime and it’s only going to get worse now? You pass on your quirk. This way you can make sure that you cultivated One For All to the maximum of your capability, but still have enough time and strength to train and help your successor.

Now there are two options: you either do what Nana and All Might did and take an older middle schooler/young high schooler so you can educate them to your ideals and shape them, or you take a slightly more established hero. A hero who is young enough to have many years of developing One For All and cultivating its power, but old enough to understand the responsibility and have better control of that power. Someone in their early 20’s probably.

Now that I’ve established that the second assumption is the logical path of passing on One For All, we can move on to the calculations.

We will take the biggest age difference I suggested, for the largest estimate of the age of quirk society. Each generation is 25 years. Let’s say, for the largest estimates possible, and One For All and All For One were among the first children to be born with quirks. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that One For All followed the same pattern I suggested (though I personally believe that he would realize that his weak body can’t contain such power for very long and pass it on pretty quickly), and passes his power on when he’s 40. We have eight passes, eight generations of 25 years each.

That means that quirk society is 200 years old. It’s been about 200 years old since the beginning of a new sub-species of humans developed. Maximum. That makes it so interesting cause IT’S A BABY. As far as societies go, this one is brand new, still stuck in the transition period between the old one and the new one, and it’s so interesting to think about!

What does it say about their morals? Is there still traditional racism and colourism? If so, where do people with unusual skin colours like Mina or that shadow guy from class 1-B fit into it? How do mutation quirks like Tsuyu’s or Tokoyami’s affect the view of sexual attraction? We know both of Tsu’s parents have similar mutation quirks. Is it frowned upon to date or marry someone with a different mutation to yours? Would Tsu and Tokoyami face social consequences if they started dating? Or what about if one of them dated someone with a less animalistic/more miscellaneous mutation like Ojiro’s tail, or Iida’s engines (do they count as a mutation?), or Mina’s... well, everything? Where do people like the manga guy from class 1-B fit into that? How did quirks (mutation quirks especially) affect beauty standards? What is considered “attractive”?

How exactly does quirk discrimination affect society? We know the basics, about how quirkless people are seen as inferior, people with less flashy quirks have more difficulty getting into heroics, and people with quirks deemed as “villainous” are sometimes alienated by their peers. But I want to know more. Will you be refused jobs or housing for being quirkless? Are employers even allowed to ask about your quirk before hiring you if it’s unrelated to the job itself? Are quirkless children, or children with “villainous” quirks, more likely to ba abandoned or put on adoption? Which one is less likely to be adopted? What are the statistics about homelessness and prostitution among quirkless people? Drug abuse? What are the same statistics for people with “villainous” quirks?

How do quirks affect politics? Are some candidates seen as inherently more trustworthy because of their quirk/because of their opponent’s quirk? What quirks are considered more fitting for a leader? Is using a foresight quirk like Sir Nighteye’s to predict the results of the elections legal? Are there parties fighting to remove quirk regulations? How do quirk regulation laws differ between countries? Are they like gun control laws?

What about production? What do I, a humble farmer, do if my competitor has a quirk that makes their crops grow faster and bigger? What would a construction company do if someone like Cementoss went to work at construction? Yaoyorozu could singlehandedly destroy the economy by creating things, are there any regulations on quirks like that? How are they enforced?

What about accommodations for people with different types of quirks? Are there laws about the minimum ceiling height and door proportions, for people with giantification quirks? Where do people with quirks like Shouji’s or Ojiro’s buy clothes? Do stores make repairs and special clothing requests on the spot? Can an invisible person be arrested for public nudity?

I’m reading too much into this and thinking waaay too deep about this fictional world, but it’s really interesting for me.

[ambivalentangst]

May They Rest at Ease

Hi!!! Long time no motivation!!! I realize I've been absent for awhile after I shat out that one thicc one shot, but I finally have something to post! It’s an original idea that I got attached to really fast: the concept of the soldiers that stayed loyal to Lotor being assigned to guard the Garrison trio, and upon learning how young they were, decided they would do pretty much anything to protect them. Involving some angst, whump, and comedy, I really like how this turned out, so I hope you do too!

tw: panic attacks, implied violence, and use of derogatory language

Trivars and Lovan were not what one would call prime soldiers, by any stretch of the imagination. Lovan had trouble doing more then a poor sprint, and Trivars currently had little to no muscle mass to speak of. Still, they’d been trained, like every other Galra in the empire. Everyone was enlisted to serve from the ages of twenty one phoebs to thirty one. For a time, they’d been in shape. They of course had to graduate top of their faction to be stationed with the main fleet, but it was easy to let loose a little when the fortress was hardly large enough to comprehend, and nobody ever actually attacked.

The rebels went after more remote locations, where it took longer for backup to reach and got the runts of the group. They got to reap the rewards of a few movements of hard work, and even when the new emperor ascended the throne, he appeared to have no desire to ship them out, which was good.

Truth be told, neither of them were all too eager to leave their little outpost, despite the fact that there’d been considerably more traffic their way ever since Voltron had been resurrected. There’d of course been the murmurs of dissent. The emperor was a half-breed, their commanders sneered, vitriol harsh in their tones. Lovan had personally looked to Trivars. They’d arrived to their current station essentially at the same time, despite the fact that their training ships were several galaxies apart from one another. It was generally kind of hard to dislike one another when they were both equally committed to staying out of as much conflict as possible, and were more content waging war on the old and very blind cook for extra servings then saying “vrepit sa” and blowing up their own ships.

“Meet me on the rec deck for cards?” Trivars mouthed, while Commander Nermant raged on. Lovan nodded, and that was the end of any protest from them towards the power switch.

It was with that kind of attitude that they got assigned to food patrol, and despite the fact that most of their superiors had jumped ship upon Lotor’s seizure of the throne, they didn’t really want their positions, so they did as they always did. Quajants, the cook, was too old to care much about the shift in rulers anyways. As long as he had his grill and pitiful variety of seasonings, he’d work.

When Lotor assigned them to the comfort and care of three of the paladins, they started to be a little mindful of his rule. The paladins, green, blue, and yellow at least, were absolute freaks, and had apparently very little regard for their own lives. They’d chased them across the ship for blowing up food packets--certainly nothing Quajants approved of--but quiznack them both if they sometimes needed a break from the surprisingly tasty brick impersonations he made. Lovan in particular had bemoaned that later, his legs aching from the exercise they hadn’t endured in quite some time. Still, there was no escaping it, and they at the very least could admire the artistry in launching the sentry out of the robeast coffin. It was a lot less disconcerting then the--shudder--witch using it for her own vile purposes, so they sucked on their popsicles and didn’t say anything about it.

It was only later that they realized that their antics were not the work of young adults having too much free time, and rather the products of cubs who desperately needed a break from the war they fought.

Lovan had first seen it, when the blue, red? It was very confusing and there were bets going around about which lion he actually piloted, but regardless, when the paladin had shown up from a recon mission out in the quadrants still in turmoil.

He had of course been there to greet him, because yeah they weren’t motivated, but they at least did what few duties they were assigned well. The paladin came from the hangars rubbing his back, stumbling into walls and clacking his teeth occasionally for no apparent reason. Lovan’s brows scrunched tightly together. He was not well versed in the way of the paladins’ species, but from what he had observed it was not normal behavior.

“Paladin, do you need to be taken to the infirmary?” he asked, and the boy had stopped, bracing himself against a wall.

“No, no, I’m fine. And I told you to call me Lance. I just got a little close to another explosion, and I still get some pain sometimes from one that got me awhile back. First foot battle I’d fought, actually,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Lovan still had his concerns, but Lance waved him off.

“I’m ‘gonna go lie down in one of the spare rooms. Lotor mentioned where they were when we first arrived, so you don’t have to show me,” he told him. Lovan resisted the urge to argue, and watched the paladin stumble away. He’d be fine, probably. He was a warrior.

Lance did not come out from the rooms quickly, and it was in fact Lovan who came in to check on him. The Altean castle ship stayed near Galra headquarters, which was certainly a change up from the norm but not entirely unwelcome. It was a symbol of peace, at the very least, a reminder that though they were soldiers they might not have to fight. Regardless of its proximity, Lance appeared to not care if the way his body was pressed wholeheartedly into the mattress was any indication.

“Uh, Lance, right?” The name was odd on Lovan’s tongue, and it came out strangely with the way he stressed different sounds. “Is there anything you need? By Galra standards, you’ve been down for quite some time,” he told him, standing off to the side. He did not care to do anything that wasn’t authorized, and have the emperor find out. Lance turned on his side with a hiss of pain, staring out at Lovan through glassy eyes. He bit his lip, seeming to debate it for a moment before asking,

“Do you have a heating pad somewhere?” Lovan nodded.

“Of course, I’ll have it brought it immediately, sir.” The “vrepit sa” he usually added at the end of such an address was on the tip of his tongue, but he shoved it down and turned away. Only out of the corner of his eye did he see the way Lance rolled back onto his stomach, hands twisted into white knuckled grips around the fabric of the sheets. He frowned.

Lovan came back to give him the pad as requested, and found Lance as he had left him.

“On your back?” he asked, and the paladin nodded. Lovan carefully set it across the boy’s skin, smoothing out the lumps in the gel as gently as he could. He was a solider, but he was not cruel. He was inspecting his work when he heard Lance sniffle, and smelled the faint salt that came from his tears.

“Lance?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation. “Are you alright? Was I too rough?” Lance waved him off, not moving from his position on his stomach.

“No, no, it’s not you. I’m just--it hurts is all. Coran had some meds for it, that’s our, uh, advisor I guess, but we ran out and I’ve been meaning to ask Lotor but he’s been busy so I just need some time. I’m fine,” he explained, but his hands hadn’t unfurled from their positions. Lovan examined him, unsure of how to respond, but knowing that if he made a move to leave, the emperor would have his hide. In line with how contradictory he was to most of what the Galra represented, the emperor had instructed both he and Trivars to treat the paladins with utmost care. With his orders in mind, Lovan crossed to the other side of the bed and sat. There was a surprising amount of room, considering how small the paladins were.

Lovan remembered his sister, older then him and with cubs of her own. He had liked being an uncle, on the rare time he had off. He didn’t know how old Lance was, the subject had never before been broached, but he did feel like something had to be done to comfort him. He stared at his hand for a moment, flexing clawed fingers experimentally, and then settled them delicately into Lance’s hair.

The boy tensed for a moment, shoulders hunching, before he let out a soft cry of pain at his own action and relaxed. Lovan twisted his hair gently in his fingertips, ran his hands gently over his scalp and down the back of his neck. Cubs calmed quickly with ears scratched and pats lavished atop their heads, but Lance did not have the same furry features Lovan was accustomed to, so he made do. He said nothing, but Lance didn’t pull away and soon the tension in his body melted away along with his tears. When Lovan looked over and saw his eyes closed, he felt content.

Lovan later told Trivars about the incident through time spent cleaning their rifles, to which he replied that he’d experienced something similar with the green paladin, or Pidge, as she preferred to be called.

She’d come back from a mission worn, a scuff on her glasses that she was apparently trying to buff out but was being stubborn. Trivars had offered his assistance, but he’d been shooed away until she absolutely burst into tears, to which he panicked because he had his orders, and he wasn’t so great with emotions.

“Pidge was crying and she started telling me about how her dad and her had gone with her brother to pick out the ‘frames’, and her dad had gone back home and Matt was on a mission. She cried for awhile, and then I got her to step away from her computer and take a nap.” Trivars stated it plainly, tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he rubbed his rag over a particularly hard to reach area. Lovan took a moment to process the information, and it wasn’t until they were putting their blasters back onto the rack that he wondered aloud,

“How old do you think they are, anyways?” Trivars paused, already halfway to the door. His lips pressed together, ears twitching.

“They’re warriors. I’d assume they’re young, if the incident with the sentry means anything, but after a year spent in training, they’d have to be twenty two phoebs, at least. I don’t know what they’re supposed to look like at that age. Humans,” the word was stretched awkwardly to accommodate fangs and a fumbling tongue, as many involving the paladin’s were, “Age differently, of course, but that’s a good guess.” Lovan nodded. Young, but not obscenely so. He didn’t dwell on it for too much longer, and raced Trivars to the rec room. He wanted the good chair, without any of the common rips in it that usually came from a botched game some soldier got sensitive about.

A few weeks later, the paladins that Lovan and Trivars were in charge of again stayed on emperor’s ship, as was becoming routine with the continuing negotiations between Voltron and what technically constituted the empire. The ship was on its sleep cycle when the alarms began to ring, and the whole thing shuddered violently, an explosion able to be heard off to the west. Lovan and Trivars, who were sleeping peacefully in their bunks, jolted awake and stumbled over each other in an attempt to get to their guns first.

They both raced down the halls, yelling at each other.

“Lotor is going to kill us!” Trivars announced loudly, cringing as the ship shook again.

“The paladins are up ahead. They said something about a ‘sleep over,’ and apparently are staying in the same room for the night. We can corral them there,” Lovan told him. He was not so out of breath as he had once been, traipsing after their charges while doing damage control for their antics. The paladins had gotten the both of them back into shape unwittingly, but effectively.

They burst into the room to find the three suited up, but crouched around the yellow paladin, who sucked in wheezing breaths as best as he could, and seemed to curl further into himself every time there was a particularly loud bang to be heard. Lance rubbed his back, while Pidge held his hands to keep his nails from biting into the skin of his palms.

“Hunk, Hunk, it’s okay. We’re all okay. Lotor and Allura and Shiro can take care of it. It’s just some of the rebels. Remember? Unorganized, scattered. It’s nothing like before.” Trivars looked to Lovan, unsure of how to proceed. Lovan shrugged. If he had to guess from their conversation, the yellow paladin was agonizing over memories of a nasty fight where an accident had happened. He’d seen soldiers in similar states under Zarkon’s rule, except of course their superiors weren’t nearly as forgiving. They could hear footsteps from down the hall, sloppy, limping. Trivars’ ears twitched, the sound still too far off for the paladins to hear.

Hunk continued to gasp, and Lance’s expression darkened, eyes narrowing.

“He’s seventeen. I’m seventeen, and I’m on the floor helping him get a panic attack under control so we can go out and fight the thing that caused it. This is fucked,” he hissed, knowing Hunk wouldn’t register it at the moment, and Pidge nodded her agreement. She kept her grip gentle on Hunk’s hands regardless.

Lovan looked to Trivars, trying to understand what had been said. They didn’t use the same terminology, but they got the gist. Lovan’s finger moved to the trigger of his blaster, and he willed himself to keep from firing. There was no enemy at the moment, and the sound would only exacerbate whatever was occurring with the yellow paladin, no, with Hunk. Trivars’ voice was hard when he spoke, claws denting the metal of his own gun.

“We’ll be in the hall. Keep yourselves safe. The rebels will be dealt with,” he explained, and Lovan followed him out the door that slid shut behind them.

The rebels came skulked towards their location with smoldering clothes and a fire in their eyes.

“Stand down,” the apparent leader sneered, despite the disarray of himself and his men. “Don’t waste your lives in defense of a half-breed.” Lovan thought of the way Lance had melted into his touch, and Trivars remembered Pidge’s hysterics after her father and brother left, even only temporarily. The memory of Hunk’s fear was fresh. Where the rebels were scorching in their intensity, they were cool and frozen over with resolve. They looked to one another, guns growing hot under their paws.

They weren’t fighters for the empire, exactly. They could care less what Lotor did as long as it was easy for them. They were, however, willing to be protectors of the cubs, their cubs, that were caught in a war they shouldn’t have to deal with.

“Vrepit sa,” Trivars and Lovan snarled, and fired away.

[slendermanlore]

Original Mythos + Literary References

Here’s a compilation of references to (allegedly) real books, movies, online stories and sites, etc. made by contributors to the Original Mythos.

Original Mythos Meta:

Slender Man would make a pretty nice horror novel in the lines of "House of Leaves".

Essentially, make the novel a collection of witness statements, newspaper clippings, pictures, drawings, articles discussing evidence for an against the slender man and, to tie it all neatly together, a few stories of people who want to track the slender man, unravel the mystery,

And the kicker would be the last 20 or so pages would be missing, with only scraps of paper left, arranged as logically as possible, just excerpts, words, rips, ink stains, etc.

Original Mythos Meta:

It's The Rake all over again!

Conspiracies:

When you posted the part about the chest injuries it reminded me of the Dyatlov Pass incident that was posted in the Unsolved Mysteries thread:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyatlov_pass_accident

Wikipedia posted:

and both Dubunina and Zolotarev had major chest fractures. The force required to cause such damage would have been extremely high, with one expert comparing it to the force of a car crash.Notably, the bodies had no external wounds, as if they were crippled by a high level of pressure. One woman was found to be missing her tongue.[1]

Original Mythos Meta:

I'm suddenly imagining a Slender Man "documentary," done in a style similar to The Last Broadcast or that old Alien Abduction TV special. Interviews with witnesses of various encounters through the years, investigation into the different events brought up in this thread, and specialists analyzing photographs, intercut around home video footage taken by a missing family, showing them being picked off by the Slender Man. As we get further into the film, we also start to see behind the scenes footage of the making of the documentary, with crew members not showing for work and not answering calls, various production problems… then finally ending with a note that the director disappeared immediately after completion of the film.

Original Mythos Meta:

"Some say that the worst monsters reside in the imagination, drawn from the greatest fears of those who imagine them. I say there are horrors beyond mortal imagining, and they are far worse. And I have looked on both."

Original Mythos Meta:

The backstories have been working well so far because they talk about things without explaining them, it's sort of along the lines of House of Leaves in that way.

Marble Hornets Preamble:

He agreed, but only under the circumstance that I never bring them back to him, and never discuss what was on them with him. He also highly discouraged me from showing any of it to anyone else. I laughed at this, and said that he must have accidentally made The Ring or something with the way he was talking. He didn’t acknowledge this and brought me up to his attic, where he was storing the pile of tapes.

British Myths, Legends, and Unsolved Tales:

Adair, J. (1989) British Myths, Legends and Unsolved Tales, London: Pan Books.

Original Mythos Meta:

Has anyone thought about the possibility that we are creating a tulpa? It's a thought form that is realized through the efforts of a group of people. We might be creating the Slender Man, making him real.

The Toronto Society for Psychical Research did this with an entity called "Philip" in the mid-70's. There was a book written about it, called "Conjuring up Philip." "He" was a fictional person, knowingly created by the group. It was all fun and games until "Philip" started to take on a mind of his own. "Philip" became real, as far as any paranormal thing could be said to be real. So take all this with a big grain of salt.

Original Mythos Meta:

Now go watch Aphex Twin's 'Come To Daddy' video. Take careful note of the inhumanly tall, emaciated figure the children gather around.

Original Mythos Meta:

The Slender Man, to date, is the only thing to creep me out worse than the Black Eyed Kids… of course, not all the missing children were recovered… who knows what happens to them when the Slender Man is finished?

Original Mythos Meta:

After all, the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.

Original Mythos Meta:

No, the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he DID exist.

Small Findings:

I have this coffee table book of photos from Life magazine. The pictures go back to the late 1800s.

Imagine my surprise when I took a closer look at this photo of Yosemite Valley from the 1870s.

Not only did I see our mysterious boogie man

But also the skull and rib cage of some unfortunate soul.

I can’t say for sure that the remains are one of its victims, but I’d be willing to bet on it.

Conspiracies:

XI 20: He who several times has Held the cage and then the woods, He will return to the first state His life safe shortly afterwards to depart, Still not knowing how to know, He will look for a subject in order to die.

Original Mythos Meta:

"There are those who believe they can be "one" with those who are not of our world. These people often think that somehow they have some kind of mental or "spiritual" link. Oftentimes these people will go out into areas that have been reported to be the hunting grounds of said creatures. These individuals are often more dangerous than the creatures that they worship/are in love with. When faced with the choice between the reality of the creature not existing or staying in a fake world they will choose, sometimes to the bitter end, the made up world.

In a somewhat ironic way, those who believe themselves to be the worthy follower/lover of these beings are in fact far removed from the "ideal" being the creature would choose!"

Edvard Tobin "Humanity and the Supernatural: A Dangerous Combo" Pub: 1994

Original Mythos Meta:

In reading this thread, I'm struck by one behaviour of Der Ritter in particular, that of its impaling its victims in a tree, while removing and reinserting their internal organs. It's remarkably akin to the feeding habits of shrikes, also known as butcherbirds.

See, what a shrike will do is capture a smaller animal - anything from a cricket to a smaller bird or mouse - and kill it. Shrikes are songbirds, and their musculature is pretty lacking compared to a straight-up raptor like a hawk or owl, so their kill is messy and inefficient, consisting of many pecks and bites to the head and neck. This continues until the prey animal is either dead or too tired to fight. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that as weak as their jaws are, their claws are weaker, and they wholly lack talons. They're built to perch. So, what a shrike will do, is it will take its prey to a thorny tree, or bush, or even barbed wire, and it will ram its prey down on a spike so that it won't move when the shrike tears it apart.

It's a songbird that's learned to kill, and it does so far more cruelly than any raptor.

Anyone ever hear the Slender Man sing?

e: Wikipedia on Lanius excubitor, the Great Gray Shrike: "This species will lure birds closer by mimicking their calls."

Original Mythos Meta:

I'm still REALLY seeing Slender Man as being related to Shadow People and, now, the hat man. http://www.thehatmanproject.com/

I have this vision of Slender Man coming up to you and Shadow People just… gurgling out of his shadow. As if he creates them.

Original Mythos Meta:

Slender Man is like that stupid game where you lose as soon as you think about it.

If you think about him, he knows. If you fear him, he comes. The only way to escape the Slender Man is to not know about the Slender Man.

Conspiracies:

In 1977, as Led Zeppelin embarked on their tour of the United States, Jimmy Page’s interest in the occult and addiction to heroin were at their peak. His playing was spotty at times, his weight had dropped considerably, and his focus was clearly elsewhere. His delving into the supernatural spirits made him lose sight of the goal of the band, with Zeppelin’s lights manager later remarking that singer Robert Plant would often have to snap Page out of his between-song trances, with Page not remembering how their own tunes went. Page also grew increasingly paranoid in an infamous incident prior to an interview with Cameron Crowe where he ripped a phone out of the wall because he felt that someone was spying on him. It was as if a force he tapped into was corrupting him.

Original Mythos Meta:

I wonder perhaps if Slenderman's name is Zoso, but he would come for anybody who figured it out, which is perhaps why Jimmy Page has been so secretive about exactly where they got their symbols for their IV album.

Hang on guys, I think there's somebody standing in front of my house…

Ghost Stories of the American South:

So once the Slender Man began popping up in this thread, I could have sworn something about it seemed familiar. I’m an amateur folklorist, so I had a few source books lying around. It took me a while, but I finally found something in W.K. McNeil's Ghost Stories of the American South. Most of the tales collected are transcripts of recordings other folklorists made, but McNeil compiles them and offers notes. A really handy book. So anyway, this particular story appears in the book’s seventh section, “Other Supernatural Creatures.”

Original Mythos Meta:

Wasn't there an artist who painted a picture—supposed to be really famous, its in all the big fancy art books. Isn't called "The Scream" or "The Screamer" ? It showed an elongated person with its hands besides its head or doing like the microphone around its mouth.

[...]

Hasn't ANYONE seen the movie "Mimic" ? The Judas Bug. It EVOLVED to look like the prey that it hunted. Now, i understand that this doesn't fit every story (like the wood carvings, But it does rather fit the Woodcarving with the skeleton with the arm-spear, It looks human)

Nathaniel V:

From a grimoire of sorts I picked up at a used book store.

Called The Observations and written by someone calling himself Nathaniel V. I don’t know if that is a letter “v” or a roman numeral 5.

Original Mythos Meta:

I think I mentioned this before--but the original Slender Man pics associated him with fire, as in preceding or instigating fire. Dissection and other means of destruction came later--not that I'm complaining. As Call of Cthulhu d20 once said, a beastie can have a thousand legs today and no legs next time, so long as it makes each encounter more horrifying.

[skanecanyon]

Trouble In Paradise

          As this dream opens, I find myself in a tropical paradise. I am very happy. My dad is still alive. My mom is there, and we are either vacationing or living in a very tropical resort type of setting. Lots of foliage and flowers. Tropical birds in the trees. I get the impression that we have moved and that this is going to be my new life. There is an outdoor patio area located in the woods not too far away from where we are living. It has a floor comprised of patio bricks, contains a table and some outdoor furnishings, and is surrounded by lots of foliage and tiki torches. I can't wait to kick back and relax with a book and a drink and take some selfies to post online for all my friends back in cold, miserable Minnesota to see.

           In order to get to this outdoor patio area, you have to walk for a ways down this dirt road that cuts through a wooded area. As my mom and I walk down this road, we come across this woman who seems to be a botanist. She's deaf and she speaks like you would expect a deaf person to speak. She's telling us about this kind of flower that she has developed, which is growing there alongside the road. It kind of looks like a hydrangea, but it is much redder and contains these "special flowers" that have hairy tendrils emanating from them. She tells us that you can cut these special flowers off and use them to start new plants. She was in the process of doing this as we encountered her. As I look alongside the road, I can see where she has planted many different types of wildflowers, some of which I can identify. I see some Royal Catchfly and some Purple Prairie Clover. These are both species that are native to Minnesota. In real life, I have spent the last couple of years turning my backyard into a pollinator haven and I planted quite a few of both of these, as well as many others.  

           Suddenly my mom is no longer with me, but I continue down the dirt road until it opens up into a beach area. The surroundings are beautiful. Blue sky, white sand, waves lapping upon the shore. I look across the bay and I can see architecture that resembles what might be found in Greece. White washed buildings, lots of domes. I have my phone with me and I'm trying to take pictures that I can post online, but my camera is having a hard time auto-focusing for some reason and I'm disappointed that I can't get a good shot. All the people around me are dressed in ancient garb comprised of flowing robes, tunics, sandals, and head dresses. I get the feeling as though I have stepped through a portal into another place and time. There is a market place across the bay. I can see people conducting business in front of the gates of what appears to be an ancient city. It almost seems like I've been cast back into biblical times. There appears to be a priest or some other high official dressed in particularly fancy clothing, announcing to everyone around him that they must now start worshiping a new god, who goes by the name Aliya (not to be confused with the  Alia Atreides, sister of Paul Atreides, from the Dune series by Frank Herbert, which is, of course, the best story ever written), and as a result, everyone must start wearing the new ceremonial head dress, which is maroon and gold (oddly enough the same colors as my old alma mater), similar to what you might see someone wearing in Cecil B. DeMille's Ten Commandments.  

           Next thing I know, I'm back at our house and I'm screwing a bunch of silver wear utensils to a wooden board. I'm experimenting with different ways to orient the metal knives, spoons and forks that I'm attaching to this board. Each one is held in place with one screw through the middle of the handle, so that the individual utensil can spin like a propeller. My dad asks me what I'm doing. I tell him that I'm building a solar power array. For some reason, I'm thinking that if I leave this board with all the silver wear sitting in the sun all day, the silver wear will get hot and I can use that heat to generate electricity. A few years ago, in real life, I experimented with building a passive solar heater that was made out of aluminum tubes that I had painted black. I patterned it after something I saw on YouTube. It actually worked, but it was incredibly heavy and awkward to use, so I dismantled it. It would have worked much better as a permanent construction project that was physically built into the house. Anyway, I digress. I'm not sure how this fits into the rest of the dream, because next thing I know, I'm back on that beach.

           This time as I exit the dirt road onto the beach, I am approached by a small boy of Middle Eastern or Mediterranean descent. He is standing in front of me, looking up at me and singing a song in a foreign language. I get the feeling that he wants money or something. I stop and listen for a few minutes, then I realize that I know the song and I sing the last few words along with him in this foreign language. I can't tell you what song it is, or what language it's in. I only know that I'm somehow familiar with it. As soon as I join in, the boy loses interest, turns and walks away. Apparently, I had ruined his gig.

          The scene on the beach is exactly like it was before, but it is now later in the day. I look across the bay at the structures I had noticed before. The shadows are now longer. The market place is still bustling with activity though. I walk along the beach to the other side of the bay, where the priests were making their proclamation in front of the city gates earlier. I notice that I am now dressed pretty much the same as everyone else. I'm wearing a desert style robe and a rather Western bandanna (I frequently wear a bandanna in real life, as I am a bald man). I'm also wearing a primitive necklace with leather strapping and a decorative stone with a strange symbol carved into it. It doesn't strike me as strange though in the dream. It's like my birth sign or something.

           As I walk up to the city gates, which is very much like a Roman era city gate, I am suddenly grabbed by a very large muscular thug type who is wearing clothing similar to what a Roman soldier would wear. He grips my arms from behind me and completely immobilizes me. I struggle to break free from his grip, but it is useless. Then this other regular sized guy approaches me from the front. I recognize him as the priest who was declaring the new official religion earlier in the dream. He's looking at my bandanna and is very angry. He rips it from my head and waves it in front of me demanding, "What is this? Why aren't you wearing the official Aliya head dress? This is blasphemy, punishable by death!" Then he looks at the stone necklace I'm wearing. It further infuriates him and he rips it from around my neck and throws it to the ground. I explain to him, "Look, you just made this proclamation earlier today. You can't expect everyone to be prepared for the changes yet. I was just on my way to buy one of the new head dresses. You have to believe me." He steps back and thinks about it and decides to spare me my life. He confiscates my bandanna and necklace and gives me a maroon and gold head dress to wear. "Don't let me catch you again without it," he warns, and he lets me pass into the city.

           Shortly after entering the city, I run into a friend of mine who is dressed normally. Modern day Western wear comprised of jeans and a T-shirt. No head dress or anything. As I walk with him, I'm complaining about the new mandatory religion. I'm telling him how bullshit I think it is. At no point do I question why he is not dressed like everyone else. Now for some reason I am suddenly holding an old West revolver in each hand and I'm using them to point at things. As we pass other people, I point at one woman who is just dressed in peasant clothing. "Why isn't she wearing the religious head dress?" I demand. The we pass another gentleman who is also dressed in peasant garb. I point at him with one of the revolvers and ask, "Why doesn't he have to wear the religious head piece?" My friend has no answers for me. Also, I seem to be talking in a British accent and I'm not sure why.

           We make our way back towards the city gates where I had entered. I'm good and pissed now because I seem to have been singled out to wear this ridiculous headpiece. I'm noticing that some of the objects in my dream are now modern again. For example, I can see a glass top table surrounded my upholstered office chairs on wheels in an otherwise Roman Antiquity setting. As we are leaving the city, we are once again stopped by the religious police. Same guy as before. This time I am not restrained by the big thug, he’s not even there this time, but the priest guy demands to see my gun. I hand it to him (I only appear to have one gun now. I don’t know what happened to the other one). He looks at it in amazement, having never seen a gun before. Then he grabs it by the hand grip and points the barrel right at my face. "Hey, whoa, be careful there!" I say to him. That's not a toy. I'm holding my hands up as I talk calmly to him. Then I pull a lightning fast judo move on him that gets me my gun back. Suddenly it is I who am pointing the gun at him. As he stands there with a shocked look on his face, I sense a presence sneaking up behind me. I spin around quickly to discover I am now pointing the gun at....wait for it....Gene fucking Wilder dressed in character as Willy Wonka. How the fuck my brain came up with this, I don't know. He's standing right in front of me and giving me a very sinister look, as if to say, there's no way you can escape. I shove the barrel of my revolver in his mouth and threaten to blow his head off, but this doesn't faze him. With my gun in his mouth he says, "Go ahead, kill me, it won't make a difference." So I pull the gun out of his mouth and point it at his feet instead. I say to him, "Okay, well how about I wound you instead," and I threaten to shoot his feet. This causes him to become very concerned. He does NOT want me to shoot his feet, and he lets us pass.

           We exit the city gate, but now it's like we're in a modern day shopping mall. There are walkways, escalators, kiosks and glass store fronts. People are milling about all around us, now dressed in modern day clothes. I am the only one who is still dressed like a Roman civilian from Antiquity. As we walk further into the mall, I exasperatingly ask my friend, "Are we outside of the Goddamn city yet?!" Then I grab the stupid religious headpiece from my head and angrily throw it to the ground. My friend laughs and says to me, "Ha ha ha, I guess you've finished the book then, eh?" I'm not sure what this means. I think he might be talking about a religious text. As we continue to walk, we pass a doctor who is dressed in a white lab coat. He is talking to a female about something. The female seems very concerned. I try to hear what they're talking about, but I can't make it out. My friend asks me, "Well, where should we go now?" I tell him that I'd like to see the fountains. For some reason I think there are some interactive fountains somewhere in the mall that we need to find. I think this might come from a shopping center that I visited in real life in Honolulu a long time ago that actually did have an interactive fountain in it. You could press buttons to make it do different things. Why I'm thinking about it now, I don't know. Anyway, then I suggest to my friend that we should try the upper level, as we haven't been there yet, and we head up an escalator.

           I must have awakened shortly thereafter, because this is all I remember. Normally, I can attribute a lot of the things I see in my dreams to things I have just seen or experienced in real life. This dream had a lot of weird stuff in it though. There is some stuff in there that I can account for, but it's stuff that I haven't thought about, seen, or experienced for many years. So my brain must be really reaching back into the recesses for content in this one.