#she is an eldritch horror and she is not sure why he is not running away

[see-arcane]

It's a special day in Dracula!

Jonathan experiences a flashback to the Horrors, Mina experiences bisexuality in the wild, and the poor nameless Pretty Girl in Piccadilly rides out of the story, parcel in hand and chic cartwheel hat on, oblivious to the Count stalking after her. In honor of the anonymous young lady who proves for a third time that Dracula and Mina have literally the exact same taste—Jonathan, Lucy, random beauties on the street—I wanted to take a crack at giving her an identity.

But I am also indecisive as hell, so she can be one of a number of pretty persons of note. For example…

Miss Piccadilly #1: Clarimonde

My original favorite choice, if only because I love the idea of Clarimonde still cruising around after the heartbreak she left behind in her own story, “La Morte Amoureuse” (The Dead Woman in Love), aka “Clarimonde.” She is now and always the undead Parisian party queen of my heart, but I could see her traveling around to dabble in hedonism in other corners of the world. Naturally she has to go and catch the attention of the local aristos. Human or otherwise.

But, of course, she is psychic and can read Dracula like a bloodstained book. Keep walking, bat bastard. Her vampiric voluptuousness is reserved for VIPs. (Maybe that fetching mourning couple she saw gawking in the park…)

Miss Piccadilly #2: Helen Vaughan

Oh, Helen Vaughan, elegant hostess and demigoddess horror supreme. I don’t care what Arthur Machen says, your story did not end with the conclusion of The Great God Pan. You were life and death and human and beast and all the hideous realities in-between and a mortal end could never keep you down. Especially not when you have so many paramours left to entertain! So many secrets profane and maddening to share! One of these days you’ll catch one who won’t dissolve into madness and self-destruction after a little innocent eldritch chit-chat.

Like this charming Count here! Count? Count, where are you going? Count, she just wants you to meet her dad—why are you running? Why are you running?

Miss Piccadilly #3: Luna Blue

What’s this? An OC?

Well, of course. No one’s actually naming their child Luna Blue in the late 1800s; that’s just her professional pseudonym. It’s amazing how well the spiritualist movement can work out for a girl with a knack for shuffling painted cards or chatting with the night sky and the occasional planchette. She can even boast something more than showmanship behind her skill. The sort of ‘something’ that worried Transylvanians might whisper about in fear on a certain haunted date while a likewise worried solicitor breaks out the polyglot dictionary.

She recognizes Dracula for what he is as surely as he recognizes her. No, she is not interested, voivode. Even if she was, she’d be out a benefactor within—a hard look at him here; cold and far—oh dear. Scarcely more than a month. At least by her guess. But oh, there is good news in his future too! He shall cross paths with an old friend soon! How lovely. She’s certain these things are not connected. Don’t even worry about it.

Miss Piccadilly #4: Cosette Marchand

The fourth and final young lady in the roster is one more original character and she deserves absolutely none of the horror coming her way. This is Miss Cosette Marchand, an artist by hobby and profession. The parcel received from the jeweler’s was a commissioned necklace and earrings she designed herself. A glittering birthday gift for her mother who will chide her for such an extravagance, Cosy, she has no place to wear such things! But they are lovely…

She’s so lost in her daydreaming that she doesn’t realize the hansom behind her has been following the victoria since leaving Piccadilly Square. All the way home. Home, where there are no bloodletting suitors, no wise professors, no divine or diabolic powers to forestall the natural progression of things between predator and prey. There is only a nightmare waiting for her, unobstructed.

…By anything other than my own bleeding heart. I’m too attached. She has to make it.

So.

How does Miss Marchand’s story go?

Turns out, her mother has some experience in these matters. Her mother being one Laura Marchand, who left a thirsty terror of her own behind twenty years ago. One she has mourned as much as feared in the time between the love of a husband eaten by war and the sharper kisses of a girl far more than a friend or living being. She recognizes the sour reflection of Carmilla’s eagerness in the Thing pretending to be a nobleman at the door. She still has General Spielsdorf’s axe. She has kept the steel sharp. Tonight she will whet it sharper still, from dusk until dawn.

You see all that yellow in her dress. It’s recently become one of her favorite colors, owing to a most diverting play she happened to read. Such lush storytelling! What decadent inspiration! She simply had to design something fine in honor of it. She does hope her mother will appreciate the artful way the gold was wrought, twisting in echo of the Sign. A mother who has gone so strangely still since she happened to glance at the second act of the play. Still and cold. Perhaps she will be cheered by her gift and their guests. There is a nobleman at the door, Mother! And there, see, leaking from the yellow damask wall is His Tattered Majesty—oh. Where has their visitor gone? He shall miss the masquerade! Ah, well. His loss.

Scheherazade…2! In which Miss Marchand pulls a Jonathan by stalling via playing to charm and utility. She wears many hats beside the cartwheel when it comes to the arts. Portraiture, fashion in fabric and ornaments. Surely the Count can savor the spider-and-fly game a little longer for that and some pretty panicked smiles. Look how much patience and frustration he burned on Lucy! Yes, yes, a little while longer to draw things out, play at flirtation between artist and patron, isn’t this nice? Ha ha. (Please don’t drink me please don’t drink me please don’t drink me.)

Well. She got drinked. And maybe succumbed to death before the Count could get slain. But the bat bastard does get put down eventually and she still gets to pop back up! Good news: She’s not under the Count’s thrall! She can think and act for herself! Nice! Bad news: Vampire. At least she can drink her problems* away. (*Problems with names like Atherton, Wotton, Gray…)

Her neighbors are the other three Piccadilly girls. Dracula makes his way downtown, walking fast, walking faster— 

Werewolf free space.

[formula-fun]

Whenever people debate whether Charles should leave Ferrari, it's like, do you even believe in romance???

people will wax poetic about the narrative and then say he should leave in the same breath. If you want that then what's the narrative? if you don't believe in the world it would be stupid to paint it!!! if you dont believe in god, then who are you talking to ???? like

[velvet-vox]

The russian worker drones family; murder drone's greatest small scale tragedy.

As long as I can recall there has never been in my mind a story quite as painful and heartbreaking and yet quite as engaging as the tragedy of Doll, Yeva, and her husband, who's lack of a clear name doesn't detract from the impact of this story or the death of the other two.

The last time such an emotional impact was left in my brain was with Noximilliem Coxen the Watchmaker from Wakfu, who I will assuredly make a comparison post with Doll, as they both hit extremely similar themes and ideas while still having such different execution and story beats that it almost makes you question why would you even compare them in the first place.

Tragedy is deceptively hard to write right and make meaningful, as just crippling your characters won't do, because at that point it just becomes drama porn and as boring as a low effort pre-schoolers program. Seemingly unfeasible in a show such as Murder Drones; an horror/comedy/romance where an abused child repaired and made friends with a robot only for said robot to cause the destruction of her planet and... something else.

Buckle up cause these robots emotions might not even be considered real inside the fictional setting but our pain allows what would otherwise be a pretty standard horror scenario to transcend into the bane of my existence as we take a look at the small, inconsequential tale of the russian worker drones family.

Yeva

Starting off with Yeva as the oldest member of our family in terms of chronological relevance, we get our first peek into the way this story plays out due to Yeva being seemingly mute by choice or programming, which retroactively sets up the storytelling method used; Yeva doesn't speak a single word in this scene or the one that precedes it, but we still get a clear rendition of her character by her standoffish behaviour juxtaposed with her caring and nurturing nature, it's debatable whether or not her and Nori are sisters, but you wouldn't be blamed for thinking that judging by the way Yeva tends to Nori after the banishment of the solver, being chained up and experimented upon didn't stop her from staying positive in the midst of adversity and could theoretically be the reason why she was the only correctly patched drone in the facility.

During the V attack she sacrificed her own life in order to protect Doll. An act that, in the long run, ended up being whortless, but that cemented Yeva has an unyielding positive influence in a world stormed by negativity and death.

The father

We know jack s##t about this man but that won't stop us from analysing him. The most interesting things about him are his relationship with Yeva and the fact that the picture of V seen in episode 2 was made by him. He's, admittedly, a white canvas for head cannons, but thematically he keeps a recurring motif that this post will touch upon in his final entry:

Doll

And now, for the crown jewel of this family. The protagonist's dark reflection. Not many people can claim to have been messed up as hard as Doll was. Sure, death is still death, but with it comes a certain sense of finality and rest. Instead, by contrast Doll's death is so brutal and devastating because although it's something that she has been calling upon herself since she started to consume other drones for her goals, it's just so heartbreaking because she managed to achieve absolutely nothing despite being one step forward everyone else in the story; she never got better, never reademned herself, made their parents sacrifice worthless, died almost entirely off camera completely alone and scared, and as her last compensation act she managed to give Uzi a barely useful warning before having her probably still alive consciousness eaten by an eldritch atrocity. At the end of the day, she was deemed worthless by the main antagonist and quickly brushed aside.

And we go back to a certain reoccurring theme regarding this family: Yeva never speaks. Her husband is never given a name. Doll is literally a toy name. Their story plays out in the shadow of the main plot. Every single aspect regarding them paints their existence as worthless and inconsequential (classic eldritch horror), yet are given enough spotlight to leave an impact on us, to have their presence felt, and to give us the impression that, despite their bad luck, if they only took certain decisions in certain key moments, maybe they would have survived and received a much better ending than the one they got.

Want more?

[kat-of-seventy-seven-roses]

Homestuck Mythical Creature au / Cryptid Au

Very tempted to make an ask blop :p need to see if anyones inch rested

thought processes under the cut (bc some choices are wild)

Johns a pooka, an irish fae trickster who shapeshifts into animals. his favorite form is the bunny. john and jane are both fae, so their pranks range from harmless to mentally scaring to life altering. absolute chaos grimlins. dirk is also an irish myth, so he knows them well and is often trying to get them to not ruin the local population of humans. so they do pranks on him insted. john loves to steal dirks head and hide it places.

rose speaks to the eldritch horrors and is slowly becoming one herself. she wants to become a litch.

Dave is a harpy! a very chill one who doesn't tend to sing with his full chest, so people dont start crashing into his doorstep. dave dies in some magic accident that caused davesprite to rise up from the ashes. but dave harpy is ALSO fine no ones really sure how. may have been roses doing.

Jade is a werewolf obv. but shes also a witch and has formed a coven with rose and roxy.

Jane is ur avrage fae faerie/sprite. her favorite fae rule to get people to break is "dont eat their food."

Roxy is both a cat who is also a wizard i need not elaborate

Dirk is a headless horseman. not to be confused with THE headless horse man. thats another dullhan with a well paying halloween gig. dirk is often subject to losing his head, so he made a magic pumpkin to pilot the body when this happens. he does have a very large and scary but beautiful horse.

Jake is the bigfoot. and one of the most well hunted (and well travled) cryptids. thus, his friends often make jokes of not ever seeing him except in blurry images. its not his fault hes very large and loves to travel! and is also not very photogenic...

Aradia is a monthra!!! however she made a deal with a devil and became a ghost... not sure WHY yet or why it kills her. but it does. its all in her plan or smth, but that doesnt stop sollux from being very upset that hes the one that has to take and keep her soul. she is reserected later by the coven, still soulless but it doesnt matter bc her soul is in good hands and thus she still feels it. shes much happier now.

Tavros is a minotar self explanatory he is a small minotar, tho. a mini minotar if u will.

Sollux is ur run of the mill soul for potato chip demon. an excuse to give him twin tails and horns. him an kitkat gave me the most trouble! but then i went with a solkat devil angel motifi and im kinda attached t9 it now. even if its sorta a cop out. i simply couldnt find twin creatures that werent gods or children of gods. nor any crab creatures...

Karkat is an angel. he WAS human notably he was human for awhile even good friends with kanaya before he died. he never found love but helped so many with theres that he became an angel that was a lot like cupid. thus he was a small angel incharge of match making and also likened to a baby and hes very much NOT happy about this. it pisses him off, solluxs often gives him a hard time. about it. (extra angst is that kitkats also really fucked up about never knowing what love felt like but having to give it to others. and he has it in his head that that means he never will know, bc no ones matchmaking the matchmaker. but theres a song he hears everyonece anwhile by a stray harpy that makes him feel a lot lighter.)

Nepeta is my go to cat creature a nekomata. a two tailed cat yokai.

Kanaya is a vampire. obviously.

Terezi is a dragon! still blind! still licks. but can now transform and has wings, very scary. shes basiclly just her lusus lmao.

Vriska is a spider lady. i have arachne here bc its similar, but shes not arachne the myth proper. shes just a spider with the top part of a woman at the head. A Jorogumo a spider lady yokai and is basically actually what im picturing.

Equius is a centar and fuck if i ever have to draw him....

Gamzee is a clowwwn, just a clown, just a silly lil guy. What do you MEAN clowns arnt mythical creatures??? what do u mean u saw him under ur bed when you were a child? u must be mistaken. as a nod to ICPs boogieman. when gamzee is not high as a kite and is just a clown, he is one of the most terrifying and unkillable creatures known to children kind.

Eridan is a selkie. basiclly a mermaid but part seal. personally, I'd like to make him part seahorse. but not in the hippocampus way. i chose this bc he can shapeshift, thus he pretends to be a high elf sorcerer, yes he does get dunked on about this.

And finally, Feferi is a siren! who happens to be able to become very VERY **VERY** BIG. she doesnt lure people to drown them but she DOES love to keep live captives in cages :)

[couldpolyamorysavethem]

BRAD CHILES, JUDY REEVES, and FREDERICK "FRED" JONES, SR. FROM SCOOBY-DOO

Justification:

"Look. In the universe that most of the series takes place in, they are all absolutely perfectly terrible for each other. I want to see the three of them tormenting one another in the most horrific ways possible because the three of them deserve it. It wouldn't save them, but it sure would be fun as hell to see the three of them burning each other down in a perfect blend of toxicity and mutual pain! But that's not the version of them that I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the universe that Mystery Incorporated ends in!

Like, for anyone that's seen the show, we all agree that the universe that the show ends in is horrific, right? The gang are in some bizarro "good" universe where everything bad that they were subjected to didn't happen. But the writers sure have a strange idea of a "happy" and "better" universe, right? Shaggy is successful, loved by his parents, and well on his way to become a famous chef. Velma and Marcie are dating. Daphne's army of older sisters… Are failures in life…? And Daphne is seen as the "successful" daughter because… She's still engaged to Fred…? Speaking of which, Fred, who experienced the worst of The Horrors(tm) gets the worst of it! His father aka the guy that kidnapped him as a baby and whom Fred decided was his only legitimate parent is now his school principal who has no real reason to be in Fred's life after he graduates, meanwhile Fred now has to live with his biological parents who were… Just the absolute fucking worst in the old universe! They tried to kill Fred and his friends on multiple occasions, and then they did the SUPREMELY fucked up thing of getting plastic surgery as part of an elaborate scheme to gaslight the gang into giving them an artifact that the gang were hiding by them kidnapping Fred and replacing him with Brad (who got plastic surgery to look identical to Fred), and gaslighting Fred into thinking that the world blew up and that he's hanging out with an elderly Daphne (who is actually Judy, his biological mom also having undergone plastic surgery… AND WHO HAS TO FLIRT WITH HER BIOLOGICAL SON FOR THIS SCHEME TO WORK). And some time after that scheme fails, they swear their loyalties to an eldritch abomination from another dimension, and get eaten alive for their troubles! While still looking like Fred and an elderly Daphne!!! Like… It takes a A LOT for one to make a good case that someone's kidnapper should actually be their victim's legal guardian… But Scooby-Doo Mystery Incorporated sure as fuck does it! And now Fred has to live with those two while he wouldn't really be able to see his only legitimate parent after he graduates! So like… It is genuinely no surprise that Fred decided to run away from home at the end of the series! But at the same time… Fred's biological parents in this new universe seem to be… Like… Fine. Perfectly nice people. They're doctors and deal with newborn babies in this new universe rather than being professional pieces of shit. So they genuinely did nothing wrong! But that doesn't diminish the trauma that their alternate universe counterparts made Fred go through! Trauma that Fred would still need to deal with! And now that they're in this new universe… It does bring up some questions… Because like… In the previous universe, Fred was kidnapped as a baby. We don't even know what his birth name would have been! Would he still be "Fred" if he wasn't kidnapped by a "Fred"!???? And if his name is still "Fred" in this new universe, then why!?

But do you know what would make all of this just a little less horrific and answer some questions…? Polyamory of course! Fred can't see his only real parent after he graduates? Well, Principal Jones is actually dating Brad and Judy! He's going to be over all the time, if not outright move in with them! Of course Principal Jones sees Fred as the son he never had! He only helped Brad and Judy raise him! And that's also why Fred is still named Fred! He was always going to be named Fred because Fred was always going to be named after the same guy! If they weren't allowed to include Mr. Jones' last name on the wedding certificate or the birth documents, by jove, they could at least give their son Mr. Jones' first name! And sure. Fred's only legit dad may not have any memories of the old universe. But he can stay in Fred's life and now comes with a wealth of experience of dealing with kids Fred's age and knowledge on how to deal with kids going through problems and dealing with trauma! I ship the Jones Parents Polycule where no one else does and I'm proud of it! Polyamory can just outright FIX many of the problems that I have with Mystery Incorporated! Polyamory FTW" - @maniacwatchestheworld

[onmyyan]

Been playing so so much baldurs gate and wanted to submit DND considerations for your OCS, please share your thoughts on the vibes:

Caspian: cleric all the way baby. can hit things real hard AND won't let shit hurt a loved one, but if it does get past him, he'll patch you up <3 healing touch on darling so he can cradle their face all lovey dovey. Could also see a paladin, but maybe one with a very unique understanding of his oath to protect others. Maybe even secretly broke the oath but doesn't care; if he's sworn to protect life, surely the oath should understand that he WAS protecting darlings life by violently ending another one?

Gabe: barbarian, obvs. himbo energy, big and tall, flies into a rage when need be, likes and enjoys violence with as little armor as possible. Tries to drink everyone under the table in every town and usually wins, but also usually ends up in a bar fight when his drunk competition ends up a little too mouthy abt darling for his liking. Will throw darling over his shoulder when they need to run

Ricky: wizard pondering his orb but in the snarkiest way possible towards everyone but his darling. "Are you that fucking stupid??? Are you illiterate?? Why get in the direct and literal line of fire when I'm casting. You deserve that scar" vs "if I ever accidentally singe even a hair on your head, I'm going to throw myself off a cliff". Likes to read to you in your tent bc it's "easier to focus", but just thinks you're so cute when you're falling asleep listening to him <3

Marcos: rogue, baby!!! He's stealing shit off anyone that annoys him, pulling darling out of the way of traps and into cozy little nooks with him while the others scramble out of the way. The party gets stopped at a toll house and he pickpockets the guard, then undoes their trousers and ties their boot laces together for good measure.

Manny: warlock but some real freaky shit, eldritch horror type beat. He's flickering at the periphery of your vision and you SWEAR he's got tentacles coming out of his face but when you look directly at him he's all :3c . his patron doesn't come around too much, Manny picked one that specifically wouldn't be too intrusive, bc he's been planning this shit out since the moment Ricky first cast a spell. He's always wanted magic but didn't feel inclined towards the scholarly pursuit of it so much as the "deal with a devil" thing. Is trying to figure out ways to bend the deal to benefit him and darling through powers beyond mortal comprehension

Diego: druid, no question. Affinity for wolves over everything else but makes a very cuddly lap dog too when the need strikes. Probably hangs out with darling as a literal stray first and then accidentally shifts one day, ending up directly in the lap of a now very freaked out darling

Ash: long-suffering ranger in a party of city dwellers. "Put that down" "don't eat that" "for the love of- no, you cannot pet the owlbear". Secretly enjoys being the only one in the know when he gets to show off for his sweet pea and may let the others do stupid stuff knowingly if it means he looks better by comparison.

Darling could be some adventurer or innkeeper who crosses paths with one and then all of the party, who just has to go with them to finish their quest or stay safe from the town that's suddenly overwhelmed with monsters. Or maybe HER party was wiped out by some shadowy threat, and she never figures out that her new pals know more about that tragedy than they let on.

This is absolute perfection??? How did you know I been playing baulders gate huh?? How'd you know this would scratch my brain in a perfect way??

[restlesschilled]

TMagP 009 Reaction

Note: I am a backer, this was written on 5th march and scheduled to post on 7th March

Credits

iconic dedication

pre stament

hi celia :)

how much paperwork does he have to sign?

its paperwork all the way down

THEN WHY ARE YOU DOING IT

SAM

YOU ARE LITERALLY BEING CONTROL

what

the

fuck

"just... why?"

i love them

PROBABLY A GOOD THING YOU CANT FIND IT

YES SHE IS

the flirting

stament

hi chester

"YA I SEE YOU"

is it porcelain babies?

ive been attacked by jonny sims again

limp???

this is giving piecemeal vibes

ARE THEY PLAYING THE MAGNUS ROLL PLAYING GAME

dice? like from the entity that gave that guy the violin, from episode 4?

"weird dice" ASHFGAHJG

ITS REAL LIKE CRITICAL FAILURE

this guys life runs on the powered by the apocalypse system lol

i think that just part of having dice is rolling them for no reason

i mean fair

"it all balances out eventually" THATS HOW DICE WORK

what i learned from working in a game store is people LOVE rolling dice

my boss would tell us to order whatever dice we wanted because they always sold

is it eldritch horror or just statistics?

okay thats weird that snake eyes never came up

i mean other that playing a literal game of monster of the week

its meta!

NO DUMB ASS

Corruption?

Post statement

Nigel dickerson

THE Nigel Dickerson

MR BONZO

BONZO BONZO BONZO

audition lol

"teddy bear"

oh noooooo

TEDDY RUN

the crypt

GOOD FOR YOU TEDDY

"Tuberler" alice is me

SURE ALICE

JEALOUSY

Years?

how long exactly

THROUPLE SHIP

"Bigfoots a good lay" SHE IS ME

what if we made out at the magnus Institute ruins... just kidding... haha... unless?

LETS GO ON AN ADVENTURE

[slothquisitor]

What Moves in the Dark: Chapter Four

A post-campaign Baldur's Gate 3 eldritch horror AU.

Chapter Summary: Liv and Astarion continue their investigation at the Wide.

Read from the beginning.

Read on A03.

_______________________________________________________

Liv can’t get away from Astarion fast enough. She barely gets the shop door locked behind her and up the stairs to her apartment before she collapses on her hands and knees. She’s been shaky since the fight, since the rush of adrenaline had faded and the horror of what she’d done had sunk in. She’d volunteered to go get the Fist to get away from the harrowing scene as quickly as possible. Once she was sure Astarion wouldn’t notice, she’d ducked into an alleyway to pathetically retch against the stone wall. 

There has always been much in Liv’s life that was out of her control, but her magic was never one of those things. She calls and it answers. She has spent her whole life learning magic, studying spell theory, practicing drawing on that well of power within her. Her magic is an extension of herself. There is something comforting about a spell, about the precision required. Say the right words, form the correct somatic gestures, and the outcome is always what is expected. She has always liked owning that sort of control.

So, of course, she had known that her magic could be used to destroy, to snuff out life. But it is one thing to know that and another entirely to hear a person’s screams as her fire scorches their skin, burning them alive. She had told herself it wasn’t killing when it was mind flayers, that it was in self-defense, that mind flayers might have once been people but weren’t in those terrifying moments when they transformed and attacked. But those cultists, she hadn’t even tried to reason with them. Did they deserve to die? They were people, with entire universes: friends, families, people who cared about them. When had she become judge, jury, and executioner? 

It’s difficult to breathe on her apartment floor. Her heart is racing, and she can’t seem to get enough air. She wonders for a moment if she’s dying before she realizes dimly that she’s having a panic attack. It’s funny, even knowing what is happening doesn’t seem to stop it. She’s home and she’s safe, but she can’t quite seem to convince her body of that. It’s been months since the last attack like this, and she feels a profound sort of disappointment in herself. Why isn’t she past this?

She presses her hands more fully into the rough wood of the floorboards to the point of pain, feeling every bit of the wood grain. She focuses on her breathing, letting this thing run its course. At least she’s alone. There’s nothing worse than an audience when you’re falling apart. 

When it’s finally over, she kicks off her boots, shrugs out of her cloak, and crawls right into bed. She doesn’t care that she’s still fully dressed because her bed feels safe and secure and she just needs a moment to come to terms with what she’s done. With who she is now. 

Those cultists had come to them with the intent to kill them. And Astarion hadn’t hesitated to draw his daggers. She fought effectively, she can acknowledge that much. But she hopes he didn’t realize just how much it affected her. He’d known something was off, of that much she’s sure. He had stared at her like she was something fragile, liable to break. She can’t let him see just how out of her depth she is here, doesn’t want to risk being sidelined. She’s spent her whole life being told she’s not capable, not competent enough. Moving here, helping at the shop, it’s shifted things somewhat. She gets to be someone else, gets to be free from the expectations, or lack thereof. But she doesn’t want Astarion thinking she can’t hold her own. Because she can. She’s fine. 

She’d tried to keep from looking at him. Her mother’s voice had been echoing in her head, telling her that her emotions are always evident on her face. Tomorrow night she’ll be better. A lifetime as a Vires has taught her more than just magic: she knows how to pretend to be unaffected. 

But tonight she doesn’t have to, so she cries into her pillow until she falls asleep. 

In the morning, she wakes up and opens the shop like she didn’t just kill two people the night before. She eats freshly baked blueberry muffins that Wynn sent with Kharis, and she lies when he asks her about her night. They have a few of their usual customers and some new faces, and Liv whiles away the hours studying books on healing magic and blood diseases, writing down notes, and wishing for a larger selection of tomes to choose from. She closes the shop, and Kharis bids her goodnight. 

And the world doesn’t end. In fact, for all of her panic of the night before, she feels…steadier now. She’s not necessarily interested in getting into another fight, but she’s been thinking about how she could have incapacitated instead of killed, and the guilt has faded. It’s been replaced with a grim determination to do better next time, to not lose her head. To prove that she can do this. 

With sunset not far off, she sets off for the Wide. The Upper City has a strict curfew, but it’s the warm season and a fine evening, so she expects the Bailiff won’t begin clearing the market until the stars appear in the sky. She’d been in such a hurry the night before that she and Astarion hadn’t made plans for where to meet, so she just wanders the crowds, looking for any sign of his silver-white hair.  

The Wide is always busy, crowded with the din of people and smells and business. When she was a child, the Wide had seemed to be the most beautiful and glamorous of places. Colorful stalls to browse, exotic goods to buy, and above it all the beacons of the pole-carters weaving through the crowd, goods attached to tall poles that darted in and out of the maze of people.

The Wide is no less magical now, but it’s Liv who’s changed. The press of people no longer seems exciting, but rather oppressive, and the stalls are still beautiful, but she wonders if it might just be a lot less work to buy from somewhere else in the city. She’s not sure when the shift occurred when a place like the Wide is no longer touched by promise and possibility and instead feels irrevocably tainted with the grime of the city. 

She’s turning a corner to wander down another crowded line of stalls when Astarion falls into step beside her with such a suddenness it makes her jump. “And here I didn’t think you’d show up.” He’s smiling, but it’s a sharp thing, full of briars and teeth. The comfortability they’d sunk into the night before is gone now. A small, quiet part of her that remembers exactly what he is whispers: run. 

“It’ll take more than a few Bhaalists to scare me off,” she replies, voice firm and even. She keeps her chin high and maintains eye contact as if challenging him to tell her she’s not cut out for this. 

Her response doesn’t seem to be what he’s expecting, his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Well, I believe we have a job to do and not much time to do it?”

“After you.”

Astarion leads them down a wide, crowded aisle. And she’s once again baffled at how she didn’t know him for exactly what he is when he first entered the shop. He moves with a preternatural grace that no one could mistake for mere mortal. He’s wearing the same clothing as the night she met him, fine and expensive, but this close she can see the way the golden thread of the embroidery is unraveling. 

 “So, say we do manage to find someone who meets our…parameters, what exactly is your plan then?” he asks lightly. 

“I figured we’d talk to them, tell them what’s going on, and ask them for a sample.”

He laughs. “Darling, take it from someone who knows, most people aren’t quick to offer up their blood simply because they’re asked. Besides, do you really want to incite panic in the common folk?”

“Gods no. I didn’t think we’d tell them everything, just enough. But…I suspect if someone…meets our parameters they’ll also have other symptoms. I brought tinctures and potions and balms.” Her bag is packed with anything she might need, including needles and vials. She also prepped a few more offensive spells, just in case. But she doesn’t tell him that. 

“So what? Free healing for blood?”

“I’ve heard of worse deals in the Wide.”

“And if diplomacy and bribing don’t work, I can always knock them out and drag them into an alley for you.” The smile he gives her is all fangs, eyes bright. She realizes then that there’s some part of him that revels in the chaos; he’d enjoyed the fight last night. 

She’d been so caught up in trying to hide her own reaction, she hadn’t been paying attention to him. But now that she plays it back, she can see it, the smile he’d tossed her at the end, the self-satisfied way he’d drained the cultist before realizing she’d seen. She wants to ask him about it, but she doesn’t. 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” he complains and then seems to consider his own words before turning to her more fully. “But really, you’re no fun at all, are you? This is three evenings we’ve spent together and you haven’t mentioned a single plan to move or engagement to reschedule. You’re too young to never have plans.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not that young, and how do you know that my social calendar isn’t just very flexible?”

But she’s simply confirmed his suspicions rather than refuting them and she knows it by the way he smirks and leans conspiratorily toward her. “Forgive my assumptions, what plans did you put off to be with me this evening then?” There’s an amusement in his eyes, and she wants to play along, laugh and joke and flirt back. 

She doesn’t.

There’s something about the way he flirts that feels like it is borne more out of habit than any real feeling. So, she sidesteps it entirely. “Are you paying any attention to the people around us? The Bailiff is going to close this all down very soon.”

“Please darling, I’m very good at multitasking.” He puts emphasis on the last word, says it like a promise. 

Somehow, she very much doubts that. “I could say the same about you though. You’ve also not complained about moving any plans around.”

“My social calendar is very flexible. As am I.” He flashes her a grin, to which she responds by looking unimpressed. He sighs and grimaces, waving his hand in defeat. “If you must know, since we defeated the Absolute, I’ve found myself a little at a loss for how to spend my time.”

Liv adds this moment to the tally she’s subconsciously keeping of the times he’s dropped the too-smooth facade, when she glimpses through the cracks something that feels real. That feels true. She refuses to wonder what game they’re playing or why she’d even want to keep this tally at all though. “Understandable. What were you doing before?”

He looks away from her, scanning the crowd. “Bending the knee to my master’s every whim. So no, I will not be going back to what I was doing before.”

She’s said the exact wrong thing, and she can feel his defenses building back up. She scrambles for some way to save this moment, to prolong the truth of it. “I’m sorry, I-”

But then he freezes, head twisting to the right. “There it is…”

“Really?” 

He pauses and then turns down a crowded alley. “This way.”

She sticks close to him as he weaves through the crowd. He’s walking with intense focus, nostrils flaring as the people move around them like some slow-moving river. He pauses in front of a stall, covered in a canvas of deep blue. The counter is a collection of meticulously organized wooden plates and bowls and other carved goods. The two women at the stall look tired, bored even, as they converse quietly. There’s no one giving the stall a second glance. 

“I think it’s her, with the dark hair,” Astarion says. “I’ll need to get closer to be sure.”

“We can just watch for a moment,” Liv says. 

The two of them pretend to peruse the goods offered at a spice stall across the way while taking turns watching the women. No one makes a purchase at their stall, though a few people stop to admire a plate or utensil. While they watch, several young people dart in and out of the closed-off portion of the stall. 

“What are they doing?” Liv asks under her breath. 

“I’ll find out.” Quick as a whisper, Astarion makes his way toward the stall, but somewhere in the crowd, she loses him entirely. She doesn’t want to draw undue attention to him or the stall in question, so she continues to browse the nearby stalls, keeping an eye out for any sign of Astarion. 

A few moments later he reappears at her side, flickering into view like a specter. “Well, what are the chances that the one person we find with questionable blood is also fronting a stall for the Guild?”

***

Astarion had thought it was going to be more difficult to suss out what was going on in that stall, but the second he’d slipped inside, he’d recognized the man at a table: Uktar. The same man who had told Tavren about Minsc and the Counting House. Bursar to the Guildmaster, and he was sitting in a stall taking payments run in by children who could skirt the marketplace more easily than any adult. 

Uktar’s blood had smelled fine, it was just the woman’s at the stall that seemed off. Something about this is ringing alarm bells in his head, but he’s still not quite sure what about it feels off. Uktar hadn’t liked their group but had seemed at least marginally grateful to not have been killed by the Zhentarim, so he hopes that goodwill will extend a little further because Liv is already walking over to the stall. 

He grabs at her arm, pulling her back towards him. “What are you doing? We need a plan.”

Liv pulls away a bit, and he releases her. “I have a plan; I’m going to talk with her.”

“Have you ever dealt with the Guild? This isn’t going to work.”

She sighs. “The first person who died was a runner for the Guild.”

Ah, he sees the connection now. She’s going to leverage it. It would be nice to have all of the information at some point, but it’s clear Liv is playing some things rather close to the chest. He tries to disguise his annoyance, but he’s sure he’s not successful at it. “Well then, you hardly need me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Without you, I wouldn’t even know they were members of the Guild.” 

Before he can reply, she approaches the stall and offers a friendly smile to the woman. “Hello.”

The woman smiles in response, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s glancing between him and Liv with suspicion while the other woman remains silent and watchful beside her. “Can I interest you in some hand-carved plates and bowls? Artisan made.” She sounds like the worst salesperson in existence. Is this really the best front the Guild can muster?

“I’m actually here to see if you might be Alfran’s friend?” Liv asks, her voice is light and the question is asked gently, but the effect on the woman is immediate. 

The woman’s smile drops. “I don’t know who you’re referring to.” It’s a clear lie. 

Liv’s calm demeanor doesn’t falter. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you. My name is Liv. I’m a healer; I was treating Alfran.”

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” the woman replies simply. 

The other woman is doing a better job of looking aloof, but it’s clear that this exchange hasn’t gone the way they expected. “If you’re not here to buy, kindly fuck off.”

This is going south very quickly. He’s pretty sure if this woman holds fast, Liv won’t press, and he’s getting impatient. “Come now, we’re not with the Fist. The disease that killed Alfran, we think you might also have it. Do you know him now?”

Liv’s glaring at him, but he simply shrugs. The woman’s demeanor changes from suspicion to fear. “What do you mean you think I’m sick?”

“This is much easier to explain somewhere more private.” Liv is oscillating between trying to calm the woman and looking like she wants to set him aflame. He flashes her a gleeful smile. 

The woman nods to the back of the stall. “Come on back then. If you knew Alfran, then you know who we work for.”

They follow her into the back area that Astarion’s already explored. Uktar is sitting at a low table, small pouches of money spread out in front of him. He has a book open and a quill and is marking down amounts. His mask glints in the candlelight. 

“Ah, you again. Come to sell me more keys?” Uktar says. 

“You know these two?” the woman asks, clearly surprised. 

Uktar looks between Astarion and Liv, but he’s difficult to read through the mask. “I know the elf. We’ve done business.” 

“Well, good. Now we don’t have to kill you,” the woman says. 

Astarion refrains from pointing out that he’s pretty sure that Uktar couldn’t hurt a fly since he’d cowered during the entire fight with the Zhentarim. But that wouldn’t help, so he keeps his mouth shut. 

“I’m feeling at a bit of a disadvantage here,” Liv says with a strained smile. 

“I’m Moira and that’s Uktar. Now tell me why you think I’m sick.”

“Your blood. It smells awful,” Astarion offers helpfully. 

Uktar laughs from his desk. “I’d trust that one on that,” he says giving him a significant look. 

Moira, for her part, seems to miss the implication. “My blood smells bad? How…”

Liv steps in then, guiding them away from this particular topic. “I think Alfran died of a blood disease. I’d like to take a sample of your blood if that’s okay. Have you been feeling odd lately? Headaches, dizziness, ringing in the ears?”

Moira shrugs. “A little, but that’s normal when my monthlies are approaching. Right? Listen, I can’t be sick, not like Alfran was. I’ve got to work.”

“That’s why I’m here, by the time Alfran came to us it was too late. We’re hoping we can help you sooner if you’ve even got the same thing. I’ll need to take a sample of your blood to confirm it. Is that alright?” 

Moira nods. “Fine. What do you need?”

“Just access to your arm.”

Astarion doesn’t necessarily want to watch the process. Open wounds can be their own sort of challenge, but this woman’s blood is rank enough he’s not sure he’d even be tempted by it at all. Besides, he wants to see if it behaves like the other blood Liv has shown him. If they are in fact onto something. 

Liv asks the woman banal questions he doesn’t bother paying attention to, but he realizes that she’s good at this…at people. She’s charming and comforting while still being genuinely warm. She reminds him of Tavren, of the way they were so quick to take care of people. Liv doesn’t owe this woman anything, but she’s kind and reassuring. 

She’d surprised him by showing up at all after last night. He was sure that she’d been so put off by him that she wouldn’t. But she hadn’t just shown up, but she’d made some comment about the Bhaalists not being enough to scare her off. It was…nice. Seeing her with Moira, extending the same kindness she had to him, rankles. There’s nothing special about her care or warmth, it’s just the way she is. His immediate impulse is to be as cruel and unpleasant as possible, to see just how far her limits extend, but instead, he just shifts his attention off of her.

While she works, two more runners come into the tent dropping off pouches of gold to Uktar, and Uktar marks the names off in his book after counting the gold in each pouch. The amounts are small, and Astarion realizes what the money is for: protection bribes. These runners aren’t just to bring money, they’re to keep an eye out for thieves and likely alert whatever merc group is patrolling the Wide that day. The stall owners pay a tax for protection, and at the end of the day, the runners bring in the gold for the Guild.

It’s efficient. Clean. Astarion almost admires it. 

“Was Alfran doing anything peculiar or special for the Guild? He told me he was a runner, but that’s all.”

“I’m not about to air the Guild’s business.”

Liv is bandaging up the woman’s arm, gentle as always. “Fair enough. Any recent injuries? Exposures to anything odd? Were you and Alfran ever in the same places together?”

Moira shakes her head. “Just here. I cut my hand open a couple of weeks back. All healed up now though.” Moira holds out her hand, revealing a reddened scar between her thumb and forefinger. 

Liv reaches into her bag, producing a couple of bottles. One looks like a healing potion and the other he can’t identify. “You seem to be doing just fine, Moira. But, if you start feeling worse at all, I want you to drink both of these and then come see me. I’m at The Shadowed Quill, do you know where that is?” Liv is lying; this woman is sick. A part of him wants to call her on it in front of Uktar and Moira, but he can’t quite get the words past his tongue.

“Course I know about it. You should’ve led with that. We all know what you do for folks in the Lower City.”

Liv’s answering smile is the first he’s seen entirely free from strain. “We are trying.” 

“But I’m not sick?” Moira asks. “Even if my blood..smells bad?”

“I wouldn’t take it personally, not everyone’s smells like a delicious bouquet,” he smiles, allowing his fangs to show. 

“We’ll be going now,” Liv says. “Thank you for your help.”

Moira walks them to the tent flaps. “Thanks for doing what you could for Alfran. He was a good kid.”

Uktar steps close as Moira and Liv step back to the front of the shop. His voice is pitched low, barely louder than a whisper. “She’s not your usual ally, and I’d be careful with her if were you.”

Is Uktar really warning him about Liv? She’s handy enough in a fight, he supposes, but he’s still pretty sure he could take her out should the need arise. And it won’t because she’s too boringly nice. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t come back here. Either of you. I’ll be sure to send Moira to you if she needs anything.”

His curiosity is piqued, but what is the point of pushing? Uktar has clearly given him every bit of information he plans to. And Astarion trusts the bursar about as far as he can throw him, and that’s not far. 

He follows Liv out of the tent and back into the crowded market. He waits until they’re very much out of earshot before he leans down close to her ear. “You lied to her.”

Liv looks up at him with confusion. “What are you talking about? No, I didn’t.”

“Her blood smelled just awful. She’s going to die, just like Alfran.”

Liv pulls the vial of blood from her bag with a shake of her head. “Her blood is normal, Astarion.”

He takes the vial and examines it. There’s not a single hint of tendrils. “Shit.”

“I’ll take it back to the shop and spend some time with it, but whatever’s wrong with her…her blood isn’t doing the same thing.” Liv looks lost, unsure, and disappointed as he hands back the vial. She looks like she’s on the verge of apologizing, and for some reason, he doesn’t want that. 

“We probably need a larger sample size before we come to any conclusions, yes?” 

She looks relieved and strangely grateful.  “Yes.”

Then he gestures down another aisle. “Shall we?”

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.187 thoughts

[Just the Way I Like It - Extra Crispy]

(Contents: immediate reactions, small Andy analysis, speculation)

Ohhh, the DNA hair isn't supposed to represent chromosomes, it's supposed to represent evolution! You know Tozuka did that on purpose. He wanted us to think she was Sex so we'd be surprised when she was Change. And from what I've seen, all of us sure were

But that's not the most interesting part of this chapter, not by a long shot. No, the most interesting part has got to be, without a doubt, Andy

As always, Tozuka provides us with a shot that's instantly iconic, this time in the form of Andy's charred body sitting stalwart on the barren surface of the extinguished sun. The linework and shading here is phenomenal, it almost feels like something out of Berserk. In the hands of a lesser artist, Andy's body might just be completely blackened with a barely recognizable outline, but here, even through all that ink you can see every contour of his physique, almost like you could count the individual muscle fibers. It's eerie, it's haunting, it's melancholy, it's beautiful, and to top it all off, it's metal as hell

Understandably, everyone is terrified when they see Andy in that state; they've only seen Andy in action for the span of about a minute, so they don't quite understand the extent to which Undead really works. Seeing someone charred to cinders but still shockingly intact like that would definitely be unsettling, especially if you aren't used to seeing death the way that the previous Union members all were, but being told that he's still alive through that? Knowing that the heat you're feeling on the extinguished sun, likely a fraction of how it feels normally, is the sort of condition he's been stoically enduring for eons and somehow he's still conscious? That's pushing eldritch horror territory

But of course, Fuuko isn't even phased. She's seen her fair share of the things that Andy's had to go through, and she knows that however hard it was for him, he'll be able to bounce back better than ever. Seeing Fuuko run up to hug him and thank him, telling him that she learned to live as she does from him, is so heartwarming and sweet that you almost forget that Andy's a smoldering statue

Now, the whole time that Nico was talking about Andy's sensory nerves and organs being fried, I was thinking one thing: he doesn't really need them, does he? He was able to move his body with his soul even through the effects of Unmove, and we've seen him moving his body while the sun's flames were active, so we know he has some way to tell what's going on around him, so why even worry about conducting sound through his bones?

The first answer is probably that Fuuko didn't know that or couldn't rely on it. Even if he could hear her through his soul, it's best not to take any chances and guarantee that her message is going to get through. Secondly, though, it's way more dramatic to shoot him in the head and jam her fingers into his skull. It makes a beautiful parallel to the events of the Spoil arc, it cuts the tension of the movement by being surprising and funny, and again, it's a striking image. Not even just the gunshot, but Fuuko having her hands on Andy's head while she talks to him, almost like she's holding his face but in the macabre and disturbing way that only UU can provide

My concerns were then answered though with Andy not only raising to his feet, but also firing off a brand new move: Soul Boosted Parts Bullets! Whether it can actually deal damage remains to be seen, since we've seen in the past that souls can only interact with souls, but Andy also created a soul chain to hold Change in place, suggesting that he's able to interact with a target's soul while its bonded to its body, much like how Ichico gained the ability to force a target's soul out. This implies that Andy can in fact deal damage with this move, even if only to the soul, which would arguably be more effective than harming the physical body of a UMA since they can regenerate any damage that isn't to their core anyway

Andy leveling up to the point that he can weaponize his soul like this, coupled with Enjin having solar-level control of Unburn, suggests that Tozuka is nowhere near showing us the real ceiling of everyone's powers. I talked about it in my response to @buhbuhlmao's post the other day, but there really is a good chance that, while no one's going to be able to solo Sun, everyone's probably going to be able to operate on a scale that would let them at least hold their own if they needed to

That said, Andy's new ability made me realize something: Victor probably wouldn't have been able to hold off the Master Rules like Andy did. While Victor never believed that his mind was a necessary part of "being alive," he also was stated not to believe in the soul as a concept, meaning that if his whole body were charred inside and out like this, he wouldn't have a mechanism for forcing his body to move anyway - he wouldn't be dead, but he also wouldn't be able to regain consciousness until someone brought him somewhere he could heal, and he certainly wouldn't be able to use his soul to suppress the Master Rules. Andy's ability to pull off such a feat proves that he's surpassed Victor, or at least caught up to his level by traveling a different path. Honestly, if we ever do get to see Andy and Victor split, I hope that we get to see them using Undead in completely different ways to show just how much of an individual Andy has become

To cap off this stellar chapter, we finally get a glimpse of our last five members (excluding Ruin and Lucy). Bunny, Tatiana and Kururu are all how I'd expect them to be, and Top is a bit older looking, but the real surprise is that Juiz is clearly younger. Not only that, she looks remarkably like Fuuko. Twitter user Junebug pointed this out too, that Fuuko and Juiz's positions and appearances have switched: Fuuko went from short- to long-hair and has become the leader of the Union, and Juiz has become short-haired and naively bright-eyed. The impact that this will have on their characters remains to be seen, but I'm super excited for it!

I do hope that meeting Juiz will allow us to fully understand the mechanics of the loop, though it's probably not super important that we get that. I just really want to know myself. Was Juiz always supposed to be a child/teenager in the 2010s, or did her soul hold her off for a few extra years? Also, she looks completely different compared to her child self before, is this because this is her first reset in the loop after getting transed as many have theorized? Oh, and could it be that Sex isn't the one who made Juiz into a woman, but Change? There are so many questions, and I hope Tozuka deigns to answer them all in time!!!

Until next time, let's enjoy life

[erikiara80]

Some thoughts about the leaks

I'm going to use different colors, so it's not confusing: Brenner and Henry, Joyce and Hopper, Henry and Patty

Brenner's father was captain of a ship, subject of government Project Rainbow that "disappeared at sea" in 1943 (they were trying to make it invisible) It actually wound up in Dimension X and all crew members except Brenner's father perished

Ship, rainbow, other dimension -> Will and his rainbowship that might be a parallel with Olivia drawing a Zeppelin when she travels to the other universe in Fringe.

I read two different names for the ship tho. Eldritch (that would be cool, lol) and Aldgate. And there's also the ship of the Philadelphia Experiment, the Eldridge. Hope someone can clarify what the actual name is.

If it's Eldritch, it could be a reference to Eldtrich horrors or the dnd campaign in '79, when Nancy joined the party. 1979, (Will's) sister, El.

If the name is Aldgate, it could be a reference to the Aldgate Pump in London, where Kali was abducted.

The pump has a gruesome past that gained it the nickname 'Pump of Death' after it caused a cholera outbreak in 1876. It was discovered that the pump's water supply contained sediment including calcium that was leached from human bones in nearby cemeteries.

Bacteria, infection, death. Yeah, makes sense.

Patty and Henry's secret journal

This is cool. So Henry has a secret journal written in code and the key to decoding it is the clock chimes or the clock face. Thinking again about Will's connection to time. His Marty McFly outfit, Dustin giving him the Forever Clock, and his name on the grandfather clock. I'm glad that Patty survived. If she's the only one who knows about the journal, she must come back in S5, right? Maybe they've already introduced her character in S4. Just speculation! I love clocks and secret codes, I'm happy they'll be important in the last season.

Henry disappeared in Nevada for twelve hours, close to where Brenner was conducting experiments to try to find Dimension X. When he returned he was completely changed. Alice mentions it is not the same person

This is a huge parallel with Will. Will vanishes and in S2 Jon says that he's not the same. Also, 12! I don't know if they show Henry in Dimension X or they just say that he wound up there. But anyway. They mention 12 hours when Owens takes El to Nina, so that's about Henry, but it's also about Will. Before that scene, we get a close up of the light bulb in El's closet (like the one in the shed) and Owens even mentions working out of a shed.

EDIT: Someone on Reddit says that when Henry disappears Brenner finds Henry's spyglass. He begins searching for him and that's what leads him to Hawkins.

But the whole thing is sus. I need more info about the Mind Flayer and Henry's powers. Also, what a coincidence that Henry disappeared in Nevada where Brenner was conducting experiments, and then moved to the town where Brenner's lab is. Tell me there's a scene that shows that Brenner helped the Creels relocate. It would be a cool parallel with Owens helping the Byers to relocate in California.

Brenner's father returned seriously ill from Dimension X and unable to take blood transfusion. Henry's blood, like Brenner's father, is unlike any other humans. He developed a connection to the UD (and presumably with his powers) when he went missing. It's also explained that the lab kids were created through blood transfusion from Henry to pregnant women

Interesting that they mention that Brenner's father was unable to take blood transfusion and then Brenner uses Henry's blood. But I'm sure this is not the whole story.

Henry, El and the other lab kids

I read that they show a photo of the other nine lab kids, including Kali. That would explain why they kidnapped a girl in England. They knew who Kali was and that she had Henry's blood and powers. But now I have a new question lol: why was Kali in London? Did her mother run away, or the women could leave the lab with their babies? But if the mothers knew about the experiments, how is that possible that nobody knew about the abduction of nine babies?

Henry holding El in the last scene: 'I'm excited to see you, Eleven. I have something new for us'

This reminds me of Brenner saying Let's try something more challenging, after Ten mentions red blocks and Six, twice (12). And Henry says the same thing to El in the RR, before he tells her about Brenner's plan to kill her. So, something new for Eleven and 12?

The problem is, Henry says that he has something new for El when she was born, but then nothing happens for eight years. Strange. But. IF Kali wasn't raised in the lab, maybe it means that El wasn't either. This could support my car crash theory. We'll see!

Joyce and Hopper's romantic tension, and their goodbye before Hopper ships off to war

Love that Joyce asks him to meet her at midnight for drinks. Another 12 mention in Jopper's last scene. Sweet. But did they say why Joyce doesn't leave Hawkins? Why does Hopper feel cursed? Why is she still with Lonnie if he's an asshole?

EDIT: It appears that Joyce is stuck in Hawkins because she wanted to win a scholarship with the play, but she didn't because Henry hurt Patty and everybody thought she was dead.

Oh, I'm also very curious to know who the member of Brenner's staff who runs away with some equipment is...

I have so many questions about Henry's story, and certain inconsistencies, but I'll wait for more spoilers

One last thing.

This intrigues me. Two experiments, two doctors, two keys, two kids, Will and Eleven (and Henry/Edward 10->01). A ship disappears and then, maybe, an entire town? Hmm

[fablewritesnonsense]

Got tagged by @charliesvarietyhour to share some WIPS (thanks for remembering me even while you're not feeling well<3)

gonna send some no pressure tags to @andyandnormski @notanandalitebandit @taffingtons @bardic-inspo if y'all wanna share the WIPs.

Currently have two active WIPS, one of them is stuff happening after Nuclear Family since I finished the last chapter of the mainline fic, and the other is Nuclear Family but 70s eldritch horror because I just can't let these babies go, apparently.

Since the After fic contains spoilers, here's my reworking of the first chapter of NF to fit the new version.

Haven Court was, as most American suburbs were, filled with couples whose opinions were ageing about as well as they were. They stuck close to each other as they raised children who they praised for taking on their views and dubbing those who dint to be troublemakers. Most of the community had been set there for at least a decade, if not longer, and had loudly declared they'd live there forever.

Funny, how impending nuclear apocalypse can change that.

Sure, the war over oil and coal had been going on since the earliest residents of the suburbs had moved into the manicured lawns; as long as many of their kids had been alive, if not longer. And yes, the actual threat of nuclear war was further off than the tk(figure out where the war is) front lines. But mass hysteria is the cleanest resource on earth. One quick whisper and a whole town is suddenly convinced the bombs are going to disrupt their artificial utopia. When major organizations start advertising shelters for the end of the world? Well, you can only imagine.

The Smiths were the first to move, headed down to D.C. after their daughter had gotten them a spot in the Shelter there. But as they thought this was a sign of mass exodus from their neighborhood, a newly married couple bought up the house.

The Valentine family was strange, to say the least.

Richard was nearing thirty, and recently honorably discharged from the army where he'd served valiantly as a captain. He was the picture of the American dream; handsome, strong and tall, with icy blue eyes and golden hair that fell into swooping waves around his head. Many a morning routine was diverted by the housewives so that they were either in their front living room or in the garden as he took his morning run through the neighborhood.

Virginia was a tiny thing, and didn't seem much older than the eldest of their daughters- who had only just begun to worry about college. She had the look of a fawn, with long brown hair, a smattering of freckles she never bothered to conceal, and big brown eyes that were so dark they threatened to be black. A smidge plain, but if she bothered to do something nice with her hair and make-up, as she did randomly throughout the week, the local men would declare her "pretty enough."

And they couldn't seem more different to the residents. He was sociable, always around to help clear a blocked drain or lift something heavy should wound of the ladies need it. She was almost always out of the house, and when she was home, she was in the back garden with her headphones on ignoring almost everyone. Very rarely was she able to make it to any of the countless barbecues and dinner parties they were invited too, and Richard always declared her "too busy." The residents began to question why in the world they were even together until the July 4th barbecue, which was the first she was able to attend.

***

"Pregnant, I told you, Nina," One of the women said under the large oak tree that stood in the center of the cul-de-sac. they observed the couple as they walked up, Virginia wearing a juliet dress that showed off the beginning of a baby bump and waving off a beer in favor of a cola.

"No wonder, I bet her daddy threatened him," Nina said, shaking her head as she shoved a wad of cash into the other woman's hand.

"Veronica managed to get her attention from across the fence," a third said, taking a sip of her beer as she watched. "Managed to sneak in and figure out a few things."

"Well, don't go keeping us in suspense, Mildred," Nina said, eyes glittering with the idea of potential gossip.

"Yes, did she say how she managed to trap that slice of American pie?" the first woman asked, getting an elbow and a cackle from Nina.

"She didn't, Sandra, but I did learn she's an incredibly intelligent young lady," Mildred said, sounding impressed but a touch sad. "She only just turned eighteen in February, and graduated from Harvard Law in April. Turns out she's at that big firm in Cambridge, she's on the team surrounding the Locke Construction Company in that big safety case, she's been helping my brother Maxford with his personal suit against them as well."

"Eighteen, that sorts it," Sandra snorted, shaking her head. "She probably seduced him to get him trapped. Bet she knew she couldn't get a man otherwise." Mildred sighed, looking at the young woman who stood on the sidewalk quietly sipping her cola alone, eyes taking in the crowd and watching their behavior.

"It takes two to tango, Sandra, you know that," Mildred said, catching her daughter's gaze and tilting her head in the direction of Virginia. Veronica nodded and jogged across the cul-de-sac, taking Virginia's hand and dragging her over to where the gaggle of teenage girls stood. She truly looked like a deer in the headlights as the girls seemingly began to flood her with questions. "He's old enough to know better."

"Did you know," Nina said suddenly, looking between them. "Richard is part of the Lovell family. His elder sister married the heir of Barlow Medicine some time back. He took her last name so that she didn't have to get all of her things updated."

'He's so kind and considerate," Sandra said with a sigh before hiding her mouth behind her hand. "And not too bad in the sack either." Nina gave a scandalized squeal and smacked her friend while she cackled, eyes glittering with the gossip.

"I just feel so bad for that baby," Mildred said with a sigh. "There can't be any love in a home like that." The other women were too busy cackling over the couple to notice, though.

***

"Gals, you're not giving her time to answer," Veronica said, smacking a few of the closer girls with a hand fan before she used it to help wave the heat off her warm brown skin. "Give her a second to breath." Gin gave her a grateful smile, clinging to her bottle of cola for dear life. the last time she'd had to deal with this many teenagers, they largely ignored her because she was ten. She'd almost rather be in front of a court room, at least she could predict how that would go.

"so, what was it like?" Asked a mousey looking girl who seemed ready to wreak havoc at the drop of a hat.

"What was what like?" Gin asked, completely lost.

"You know..." she said before pointing to Gin's stomach. "The baby-making." Gin almost choked on her cola wile Veronica rolled her eyes.

"You have about as much tact as your mom Dottie," Veronica said with a sigh. "Good lord."

"What? All the steamy romance novels got banned so obviously there's something good enough to get banned," Dottie asked while the other girls giggled.

"Not worth it, is what it was," Gin said, shaking her head. "Don't bother with boys, they have no clue what they're doing."

"Well," purred one of the girls that looked like a spoiled house cat. "My mother said hes better than my dad in bed." The girls gasped and giggled, and Gin felt something churn in her gut knowing he was just sleeping around.

"Her bar is in hell," Gin said flatly. "If she thought it was anywhere decent, her bar is in hell." Veronica snorted while the other girls squealed and laughed.

"Monica, isn't your dad, like, overseas, serving?" Veronica asked dryly, twisting one of her locs around her finger. "Feels mighty shit of Miss Sandra to be fooling around with the unemployed neighbor while he's off at war." The girls shushed Veronica as one of the adults passed by, but the girl rolled her eyes. Gin bit her lips so as not to laugh, and Veronica gave her a wink.

"So, what college are you going to?" Dottie asked, trying to break the tension as Monica glared at Veronica. "Ronnie said you had your eyes set on Harvard, right?"

"I actually graduated from Harvard Law a few months ago," Gin said with a nervous laugh. "I've been working at the Cambridge Safety Firm since I graduated." The girls all gasped and began asking her questions about her job and college, all things she could actually answer confidently.

This first chapter was the hardest to write last time so I just went ahead and got it out of the way before NaNoWriMo since I've just got absolute brainrot for these characters. I'm also hoping to turn this into an original work down the road so shit's getting changed and updated while I tighten up the story a smidge. Even though my plans have already gone off the rails.

[meowcats734]

(prompt response) You can see everyone's Deaths following them, arriving to offer their hands right as they die. Today, you saw something new; someone chasing after their Death, who is fleeing at a dead sprint.

"Plane of Insecurity," Sansen snapped, and we jolted into action, clustering into a circle while I gathered the liquid-metal insecurity that shivered in my soulspace. None of us bothered to ask things like how did Iola find out or what if he's just here to talk?

It was Iola. For all I knew, he'd just snapped and randomly decided to murder us. Or maybe his newfound eldritch form let him spy on us from afar. Or Odin wanted to put pressure on us, or the Silent Parliament, or some third faction that I didn't even know about. This clusterfuck of a war was exactly why we needed to get as far away from here as humanly possible, and probably further, since I was willing to bet Iola didn't count as anything remotely human anymore. 

"Knock, knock," sang Iola from the door, and his voice was garbled and fleshy and wow did I not want to find out what kind of bullshit he was going to get us into this time. With a flash of magic, we shifted into the Plane of Elemental Insecurity. Lucet let out a sigh of relief as Iola vanished, replaced by cotton-fake snow on cardboard stone—

"Keep moving," Sansen snapped, sprinting off towards the borders of town. A tiny rift into the Plane of Elemental Possibility blazed over his left eye, trailing behind sparks like a golden comet. 

"But he can't reach us here," Meloai asked, her tone more pleading than assertive as she ran. I wasn't entirely sure how her clockwork body differed from human standard, but she had no trouble speaking during our flat-out sprint.

Behind us, I got the nauseating feeling that space itself squelched. Meloai turned around, abandoning the illusion of humanity to swivel her head a full hundred and eighty degrees, then snapped her head back to normal and pushed forwards, a wordless, shocked horror on her face as she fled.

"Yeah," I panted, "evidence says otherwise."

"Why are you running?" Iola's voice was disconcertingly wet, but it was still unmistakably his voice. Morbid curiosity made me want to turn and look and see the terrible beauty of whatever abomination Iola had become—but I had to stay focused. I had to keep moving. "You wouldn't happen to be depriving a wartime effort of crucial emotional power sources, would you? Because if you were..."

"Close your eyes and follow me," Sansen interrupted, skidding to a halt. "We're plane-shifting again."

"To where?" Meloai asked. "This is the only safe plane out of—wait. Wait, no, you couldn't possibly be—"

Sansen threw both arms out, as if opening a door, and the rift over his eye exploded outwards, tearing a hole into the Plane of Elemental Possibility. Right before the rift swallowed me, I turned around, just to catch a glimpse of what was coming after us.

I really wish I hadn't.

The thing that had once called itself Iola stood in a puddle of... melted space. There was no other way to describe it—it was as if everything around where he'd entered the Plane of Elemental Falsehood had become limp and liquid and dead. I'd once seen a painting of clocks flopped over a desolate landscape like so many pancakes; what Iola had done when he'd clawed his way into this place reminded me of it so intensely I almost thought I was back in Art and Culture 102. 

But I never would be again, if Iola had anything to say about it.

His body bubbled like soup on a stove, bulges of skin forming and snapping and regenerating all along his once-perfect body. Who knew, maybe the Silent Parliament would declare this the new perfect once we were gone. His cruel smile ballooned and shrank like a frog's throat, and the corrupted arm he pointed at us shed bits and pieces of amorphous flesh even as he moved it. And yet, the transformations the Eldritch Initiative had wreaked on his body weren't even the worst part.

Because I was a witch, and I could see what they had done to his soul.

Joy should have been dew. Joy should have been pure, clear water, and it always worried me that Iola's version of the stuff was sickly and tainted. But now, the droplets that jittered through Iola's soul were infested, tiny, jittering swimming-things squirming in the inhuman emotion Iola now felt instead of joy.

In a horrible insight, I realized what those liquid, living orbs were.

They were eggs.

And at Iola's command, they began to hatch.

Thankfully, the rift into the Plane of Elemental Possibility swallowed us before I could see what that spell did. At the last minute, I remembered Sansen's instructions, closing my eyes and holding my breath—

And a cacophony of voices from every possible timeline assaulted my ears.

"Get away from me!" Lucet shrieked/shrieks/will shriek. "You're a monster—can't you see that? Can't you see what they've done to you?"

"I'm very sorry," Odin mused/muses/will muse, "but that's not the bargaining chip you think it is. Aim higher."

"Can I kiss you?" I asked/ask/will ask, my voice uncertain and frail. Lucet replies with a quiet little "m-hm!" and I can hear the smile in her voice—

That last one nearly shocked me into opening my eyes, but—fuck, I couldn't afford to get distracted, and presumably, that was exactly why Sansen had told us to close our eyes. I locked onto Sansen's soul in the chaos, following him towards the rift, and he shouted, "Lucet! Plane shift!"

From Lucet's momentary silence, I could tell she was shocked from what we'd heard as well, but—

"Gotcha," Iola said/says/will say, and his voice is disgustingly pleased as something squishes and I scream—

"Right. Everyone, gather close and hold your breath."

As Lucet prepared the rift, Sansen grabbed my arm and said, "Listen. When I give you the signal, send Lucet and I to the Plane of Calm, then take Meloai and yourself back to realspace."

I creased my brows. "What signal?"

Sansen drew in breath to speak—

Behind us, a hundred futures died screaming as Iola forced his way into the Plane of Elemental Possibility, and even though I was facing away from him, with so much of my concentration on my soulsight, I saw what he did to bore a hole between planes. The oil-droplets that normally comprised passion had turned rancid and rotten, matted with strange algae and molds, and he used that living, inhuman emotion to melt holes through thoughtspace itself. I sensed his soul shift, that infested not-joy rising to the surface, and though his next attack spell moved at the speed of thought, Sansen's futuresight was faster. Lucet's spell ended before his even begun, and we leapt between planes again, landing in the Plane of Elemental Cold.

Immediately, my entire body burned as I came into contact with air that had never known heat or light, and I instinctively flared up with passion, not that it was of much use. I had little passion left in me now, and spread thin over the four of us as it was, it only slowed the inevitable. Still, Sansen directed us to struggle onwards, stumbling over uneven, rock-hard snow, putting a little more distance between us and Iola while the heat leeched from our flesh. In the distance, through my tightly closed eyes, I sensed the soul fragments of skeletal deaths, Demons of Sorrow reaching out to take our hands and slay us with a touch—

And then, right as my lungs were about to give out and suck in a breath of deadly, thin air, Sansen squeezed my arm, and his instructions flashed into my mind. The last of my calm went into sending Sansen and Lucet into the Plane of Elemental Antimagic, while my plentiful sorrow tore a rift for Meloai and I to step back into realspace. As the rift rose around us, I sensed Iola burst into the Plane of Elemental Cold too late, the deaths scattering as Iola gleefully cast a spell—

We landed outside the boundaries of the city in a snowy plains, and it was a testament to the absolute chill of the Plane of Elemental Frost that the snow felt hot to the touch compared to my numbed, frozen skin. I cracked my eyes open—fuck, that hurt—and tried to gather my thoughts.

"What's going on? Why'd you separate us?" Meloai asked.

"I don't know," I muttered, pacing. "It was part of Sansen's plan—"

"If you don't have a plan, then we should keep running," Meloai snapped. She started to slog forwards through the snow. Her joints were seizing up and her metal body sank deeper than mine, so I got one shoulder beneath hers and helped haul her along. 

"The Plane of Calm is pretty safe," I said, thinking aloud, "but, uh, magic doesn't work in there. Even if they had an attunement to calm, they'd be trapped—you can't open a rift from inside the Plane of Elemental Antimagic. You have to coordinate with someone on the other side to open a rift from realspace."

Meloai flicked me on the back of the head. "You dunce—you're the person he sent to the other side! It's a trap for Iola, and Lucet's the bait—if you take them out of thoughtspace from this side, Iola will be stranded in the Plane of Elemental Antimagic!"

That made sense, and would be glorious if it worked, but... "I have no way to tell them where to meet up," I said.

Meloai gave me an incredulous look. "No way to tell... Cienne. Sansen is an oracle. He probably looked into the future and saw where you'd open the rift way back at the beginning."

My eyes shot open, and despite how it stretched and bloodied my cracked, frozen skin, I grinned. My heartbeat began to slow as, finally, I started to accept that maybe, just maybe, we'd done it. "Oh," I simply said, and tore open two person-sized rifts into the Plane of Elemental Antimagic.

And the four of us were reunited in realspace, exhausted, battered, and mentally shaken from our trawl through the planes. I felt like I was about to collapse, Lucet wouldn't meet my gaze, Meloai's movement was jamming up, and Sansen's eye-rift had extinguished, but the four of us were still, somehow, alive.

"He took the bait," Sansen gasped. "He's stuck in the Plane of Calm until someone thinks to dig him out."

"So we're safe," I finished. "For now, at least, we're safe."

Meloai nodded, extending a hand to Sansen and Lucet. With a weary smile, the four of us embraced, huddling together in the snow for a quiet, eternal moment.

And then the four of us began the long, tired slog from the Silent Peaks, wondering if the madness that had overtaken it would yet swallow us whole.

A.N.

Soulmage is a serial written in response to writing prompts. Stick around for more episodes, or join my Discord to chat about it! This prompt was chosen by my Patreons.

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[coffee-in-veins]

I was thinking again about how Dismas's Face Your Failure sucks, but tbh they kinda fucked up with the concept? To have Dismas kill a random guard doesnt really represent what went on and how it affected him, on the other hand, for him to face his failure by shooting that poor woman again would have been horrible and stupid.

There are very different types of backstory they tried to pigeonhole into the "failure" theme and to represent it by a single NPC gets even more awkward. You have Para killing the result of her horrid experiment, good, ok, makes sense. But Audrey kills her husband which she has no reason to regret killing in the first place, only that she didn't get away with it, Bonnie is faced with the adult that tortured her as a kid (is her failure running away from a fucking cult???)... then Barristan has to kill the ghosts of people led to their deaths and genuinely regrets doing so. Damian has to beat himself like he doesn't do that shit every day.

I'm sure if this was an anime it would all make sense, with dialogue and the evil shades taunting the heroes by distorting what went on, but as is stands, it's just forced. It's no Come Unto Your Maker in terms of impact, that's for sure

thank you for the ask!

sorry i'm slow with those lately ^^' too much irl shite falling on my lap... i am genuinely happy to receive asks, but i barely have much strength to do more than reblog some nice art lately. my bad.

i hope the length of it will make up for how late it is.

frankly, i refuse to engage with DD2 on principle and do my best to forget it exists, so where i feel comfortable discussing DD1 and my knowledge of it, in DD2 I can mostly speak based on youtube walkthroughs and my spite.

please, bear in mind that i'm biased. i'm still salty at DD2, and what i let slide in DD1, i meticulously dissect in DD2. so if this bothers you, i'm genuinely sorry. i can't help it. this was why i tried my best to distance from DD2 entirely.

that includes the little arsonist. i still can't help but resent her for taking space away from someone from the old cast. so i can't say anything about Bonnie, sorry.

Dismas is just a whole mess in his own league, as I mentioned before. and it's too depressing for me to dig into it fully, but the way the game is now (to my knowledge) it seems that his biggest 'failure' is getting out of a 'hellish' prison which had left such a lasting impact on his psyche that he has nightmares about it instead of some eldritch horrors. which imo speaks volumes about his time there.

frankly, for me Para is firmly in a 'this is not as traumatizing as they make it out to be' category. the guy was already dead, and based on narration, he was dead before she found him (where in DD1 comic this fact was up to debate). morally, at least in my eyes, it is no worse than autopsy. is autopsy immoral? no, not really. it doesn't hurt anyone. the corpses don't really care what happens to them. she basically created a Gaunt and we see no proof that Gaunts are sentient or can comprehend what is happening to them. for all intents and purposes, Para made a zombie, and then killed a zombie. the only change was that she used to know the basis of said zombie. was that traumatic for her? most likely, in a way every failed experiment of such magnitude is. was it immoral since the guy was dead and wasn't technically there anymore…? ehhhh… no? not in my head, at least. it definitely didn't warrant the place of her biggest failure - after all, she continued her trade, in DD1 at least, and there she was quite self-assured and willing to do what it takes to battle illnesses of Hamlet.

Audrey actually got away with killing her husband. the problem was that she got his debts too, as the new Lord of her household. so to not lose the lifestyle she had, she resorted to grave robbing. later, she either didn't get away with that, or got way too into it for the thrills. if anything, my bet would be on her regretting not killing him sooner, before the debts. i can't see any point where he would be her failure. marrying him? well, considering the age and her noble lineage, being a woman and narrator's phrase about her "Born into money, and married into more", marrying her husband was hardly her own decision, so not a failure in that regard, too. unless RH are implying very, very dubious things, i fail to see any scenario where he is her fault, worthy of 'Face your Failure' yelled at her face.

Barristan we get to see in both DD1 and DD2 seemed to be post-redemption arc, personally. well, save for few barks in DD1 afflictions (man, i miss how jaded and pointed they were unlike what i've seen in DD2...), but in DD1 everyone was much more at each other's throats and less sanded off to be mellow when they were afflicted, imo. but i digress. so, guardian grandpa felt like he had had his redemption arc already, before the game even started. he fucked up, he made amends, he learned his lesson. making him re-kill the ghosts is just a dick move from writers, imo.

i'm lowkey afraid to ask who Junia and Sarmenti get. because i dunno. i have my guesses, but if they are true, then i'm... i'm not even disappointed, i'm just tired.

Damian is... well, he simply is. i can get a separate rant about him, but boy, i have a lot of punches for the way the narrative worked with him. granted, he appeared when the levels of my blood salt regarding DD2 were reaching organ-failure levels (guess like Damian himself), but boy, did the RH did him dirty! not only in handling him, but also with going the most stupid, the most cheap option of self-fight.

however, and that's one huge however.

however, there's one character who, to me, outshines all this crap.

the most baffling example for me personally has to be Baldwin. the game made a very pointed, on the nose, blatant effort of showing him like the only actually undeniably good guy from the whole roster. he is kind, humble, loving, and is a 2-meter tall disney princess in disguise considering how each of his official artwork features small birds loving him and sitting on his hands. i don't even know what he gets as a Failure. his advisers? he dealt with them in more ways than one. the beggars he selflessly helped got leprosy from? if yes, this is undoubtedly not-as-good of a character anymore. does he just get to slap the boss for 200 HP because he's a gigachad or something? i'm genuinely confused.

as i said before, given the game's narrative, Face Your Failure makes no goddamn sense, and i stand by those words.

not only it feels cheaper than Come Unto Thy Maker (you can't straight out DIE from it afaik) it's not a hindrance - it's outright your way to win. unless you play with a vestal who has 0 attack skills, this is not a thing which makes the fight harder (like Come Unto Thy Maker does, progressively reducing your damage output and safety options), it does the exact opposite! why? why would the big bad make this fight easier for you to win? ugh! are we going for the 'i know you are in there somewhere' fights? is the guy called Hateful God for fuck's sake playing along with you, pulls his punches and secretly wishes you well? WHY would he??

excuse me, i need to read some soft reymas else thinking about this will put me into salt-induced frenzy.

[leomonae]

Soooo it turns out that if you're playing a do-gooding, self-sacrificing bleeding heart type who's basically contractually obligated by their religion to take on suffering in place of others doing so and also gives a fuck about what happens to the githyanki as a society...

(Massive spoilers ahoy!)

... you kind of inevitably wind up an illithid? Which, okay, fine, cool cool cool, as a healer this is pretty much the only time I've been at all effective in combat except when we're frying undead so that part is pretty awesome and apparently Ilmater is totally cool with all this since I still have my cleric powers, except now my prettyboy vampire boyfriend refuses to kiss me anymore, on the grounds that it won't work with my new mouth :(

The thing is, though, I've been mulling this over for the past fucking day I've been unable to just finish the damn game because of this slow-ass patching process courtesy of GOG, and I think I actually kind of adore this outcome? No, really, I could see this being great for Tav and Astarion's relationship, once he's had enough time to get over the whole... eldritch horror aspect of it all!

Benefit one: Tav's lifespan just became a total non-issue for them! Sure, I don't know and wasn't finding much regarding illithid lifespans, but my Tav was a human before; pretty much anything would be an improvement on that, next to how long a powerful elven vampire could expect to live. And honestly, illithid lifespan isn't even that important in that regard, because they have other options Tav could now actually take. There's no way she'd have ever agreed to becoming a vampire before, but now that the "I prey upon mortals to survive" line has already been crossed? The details of how she's going to handle things ethically hammered out? Why not go full-on vampiric illithid at this point, if that extends their time together? Hells, she could jump straight to illithilich if she wanted!

Benefit two: illithid are sexless. Sexless, but - crucially - with the potential to still be sex-positive, if we take that little interlude with the Emperor which broke my brain so badly the other week at face value. The most obvious implication of the narration was that what the mind flayer gets out of the whole experience is what their partner is putting in: that it's due to their psionic link, or whatever. Sure, there are still questions as to what part the tadpole played in facilitating said connection, but it's not like there aren't any other sources of mind reading or mental sharing that exist in the setting; my Tav is already running around with Detect Thoughts up constantly, I'm sure she can pick up some alternative just fine. The point is, Astarion and all his trauma just got himself a partner who not only wants him to genuinely enjoy having sex with them, but is quite likely literally physically incapable of deriving any carnal pleasure from the experience if he isn't.

Benefit three: illithid are naturally selfish and egotistical and risk-averse enough that my Tav probably just picked up a modicum of concern for her own survival, which I expect will be a massive weight off Astarion's mind after the past few weeks/months of watching her throw herself at wherever the most dangerous enemy on the field happens to be

Benefit four: illithid enjoy sunlight only marginally more than vampires do, which admittedly means that Tav is gonna have to buy a new mace soon, but also means the two of them now prefer complementary habitats and daily schedules

Benefit five: their diets are complementary too! They can split a bandit to avoid food waste!

[edit: benefit six: three times the upper limbs mean three times as many/thrice as good hugs for astarion]

In conclusion spawn Astarion + illithid Tav is clearly the happiest ending of them all, thank you for coming to my TED Talk

(also the going out in public part is pretty much a non-issue too, I tested out one of those cheap mundane disguise kits you can pick up and it worked perfectly fine even if the human female variant I used to be was not skinny and middle-aged with an afro, so I'm sure between Gale Shadowheart and Omeluum we can figure out a way of making me look like myself again in no time)

[samglyph]

If you want a space to rant about ST season 4 and its horror flaws I would love to hear your thoughts---i just rewatched seasons 1 and 2 so I'm in the thinking about it mode

Ohhhh I’m vibrating with all I have to say but I’m going to stick to the horror flaw theme and leave out most of my other non horror related thoughts. Ok so starting off: I actually like most of the first three seasons of Stranger Things. I think season 3 is flawed in a lot of ways but there’s enough that I like there that it’s watchable for me. I know a lot of people feel differently so I’m just putting that out there first.

Season 4 starts strong. The first episode? Good! The dnd/basketball scene? Fantastic! The scene with Eddie and Chrissy? Adorable, great character building. I think one of the strengths of this show has always been the acting, especially from the younger actors, and I think that remains true. And in terms of horror, Chrissy’s death scene is super spooky.

Episode 2 is where it falls apart. The reason I said ‘horror rule number 1’ is because while it might not be a general hard and fast rule (there are plenty of things that don’t do it and are still good and scary), it’s generally accepted, especially in creature features (which ST TECHNICALLY IS) that you shouldn’t show off your creature right away. Jaws? You don’t see the shark until the climax. The Thing? You see people transform and mutate early enough, but you don’t see the full spider body horror monstrosity until well through the film. And Stranger Things season 1 does this perfectly; people are taken/killed left and right, but aside from a blurry photo we don’t see the demigorgon until the LAST EPISODE. Now, yes this is often done for budget reasons, but it’s a good technique! Not being able to see what you’re running from makes it scarier. Showing us Vecna in the second episode? His whole body? With his tentacles? It’s a cool shot sure, but it’s unnecessary and immediately makes him less scary. He’s just a weird dude! They’re trying to do like. Power scaling. But it doesn’t connect well to prior seasons and the world building is really finicky at best.

I know it’s season four and they’re trying to explain stuff because we’re coming to the end of the show and they want to wrap up the mystery, but here’s a thought: sometimes things…. Should stay mysteries. The upside down, as a concept, is very cool and scary, and in trying to explain it they just opened more cans of worms and it’s still a mystery but now it’s almost more fantasy/eldritch sci fi then the grounded sci fi that it was and so some of the believability falls away. Also adding magic glowing dust is a retcon and ridiculous we know that’s not how the lights work. And I LIKE alien eldritch horror ok you know that but that’s not what stranger things IS it shouldn’t BE HERE. Also making your villain just the “weird spooky probably neurodivergent child” trope? Don’t like it, I think they could have had Henry find a small portal to the (already existing I don’t think El should’ve made it) upside down and that corrupted him and mind controlled him and given him some base power (kinda like Will in season 2) would’ve worked just as well, but that’s just an idea.

Another issue with the horror: it’s rushed! Why is Max’s Possession scene in episode 4! It shouldn’t be there! It’s a great scene, but it’s WAY to great and climactic to be happening BEFORE THE MIDPOINT OF THE SEASON? There’s another climax with max but it almost feels less important despite the fact that she basically dies. AND WITH BARELY ANY OF THE CAST THERE? That’s a separate issue but really quick: horror partially comes from the awareness of the characters, and then the audience being aware of the characters awareness. Either the character is aware of the horror which can create stress, (ie. Watching Will in season 1 as he tries to avoid the monster in episode 1) or the character is unaware (shouting ‘he’s right behind you! In scream) which can also create stress. But in the latter section, the film/tv show/whatever has to emphasize that lack of awareness. Meaning if for instance, one of your best friends is about to die, and you’re a MAIN CHARACTER and you have NO IDEA, it might behoove the writers to nod to that somehow to twist the knife a bit. Like El is so important in the second Max climax but isn’t even remotely important in the first scene. Cmon. But that’s just my opinion and a little off topic anyway also the Russia stuff slows down the plot and I don’t care about it and they used a nazi prison and then tried to monetize it as a hotel experience Ls all the way down.

Tldr a lot of the horror was ruined because things were rushed/shown to early and overcomplicated. Something needed to be cut so that other things could flourish.

This is no where close to all my thoughts on season 4, trust me I’ve got a whole like. PowerPoint/video essay locked in here and also I have a head cold right now so apologies if this isn’t coherent. Or if I’m wrong I’m not watching the season again to check.

[tobiasdrake]

Guess we're left holding the bag. Let's investigate the district.

Oh look, it's Real Yuma again. The mystery shortstack from the other train who keeps popping up and then vanishing. We've confirmed that they're wearing a WDO uniform and even spotted the insignia on the cloak, but that's all we know.

Who are you really, Real Yuma?

And yes, I am resurrecting my crackpot theory from the start of the game. I say we're, like, an Amaterasu assassin or some shit who jumped Real Yuma in the middle of the Shinigami ritual, and wound up getting memory-zonked and soul-bound to Shinigami instead of him. And that mystery child is the real Yuma trying to figure out what's going on here. We've been accidentally impersonating our victim this whole time.

That's definitely wrong but fuck you, I'm gonna hold to it until the game expressly proves otherwise!

Probably because we kicked the shit out of him and then accidentally got possessed by the eldritch horror meant for him.

Or maybe I just like Spicy Amnesia plots where it turns out the memories you lost were of being the absolute worst, and you're frankly better off now.

Oh, maybe we'll get answers now.

Don't know why you're leaving Kurumi behind. She's way more athletic and stealthy than you are, Yuma. She was able to navigate police-infested Dohya without save scumming. She's actually more qualified to chase down Real Yuma than you are.

Fortunately, she knows that too.

Yuma says the guy behind the counter is Real Yuma and that's. Uh. Wow. That sure is a face, alright. Not at all what I was expecting from our mystery man.

But there's definitely a non-zero chance he's an apprentice detective.

KANAI WARD SIGNATURE MEAT BUNS aren't something you can imitate so easily, man. It takes a lot of talent and the right spices to get the flavor just right. Also, extremely high quantities of sugar, salt, and fat, all of which are supremely addictive but that many people don't realize are addictive.

It's the same way McDonalds manipulates people to keep them hooked.

...

Ooh, I should make a McDonalds run soon. I am suddenly craving so hard. Maybe for dinner tomorrow.

Gonna be honest, I'm starting to get unnerved by the things Ramen Shop Customer is saying. I'm sure it's nothing but his boundless praise for Real Yuma's ramen is starting to edge into "Is the secret ingredient opium?" territory.

What part of Shinigami's cagey behavior towards your past, her past, and the WDO makes you think she's going to answer that question, Yuma?

Hell, maybe she's being cagey because she doesn't want us to know that we're not a real detective-in-training. She did try and warn Yuma off from finding the answer to the counting error back on the train. Maybe she's worried that if we know the truth-truth about Yuma's identity, we won't solve mysteries with her anymore.

What are you apologizing for? You didn't make her come with. You wanted to abandon her in the middle of an alley which is arguably way worse.

Yuma's convinced himself there's nothing to see here, and that we should resume our primary mission: Walking up to random people on the street and asking them if they know any confidential Amaterasu secrets that the police might kill someone over!