The weirdest part about FFXIV for me now is that for years I considered myself a newbie. I was always around people who had played longer than me, both legacy and not, and with it also being my first ever MMO they all seemed so experienced to me.
... And here I am now, forgetting that I am in a sense closer to all those players I looked up to back then. Year after year I've seen fewer and fewer legacy mounts and titles, and as time goes by I am more and more shocked by how many I interact with who describe Shadowbringers as "the old days". And not only that, I realize then that 5 years IS a long time, and that all the things I keep thinking of as new and flashy (Gpose, job gauges etc) have been in the game longer than they have not.
Mind you, I became psychotic less than a year into my FFXIV career, and then I spent nearly a decade after that trying to heal from both that as well as the paranoia it left me with, so in a sense the years 2015-2022 might as well not have happened in terms of me remembering them in a way that matters. My vague measure of time between 2014 to 2019 in particular is only possible because I memorized FFXIV patches, since the game was practically the only thing keeping me both sane and alive. I cannot tell you what I did IRL in November 2015, but I can tell you what I did during patch 3.1.
And I guess that's why it all feels so mindfucky to me? It's not like I can look back at my years in FFXIV like normal memories, so realizing that 10 years have passed in what to me felt like the blink of an eye, and then having to reconcile with my self perception and reality not quite adding up... it just makes it feel so weird? It kinda feels like waking up from a time bubble, where everyone else has lived normally and you have to adapt super fast to keep up with the changes you barely have time to process.
In a strange sense, many of the people I knew and loved at the time feel like fuzzy figures to me. Some of them I cannot even recall the names of, and some I remember nothing except for their names. I know they were real, because I have screenshots of us playing the game together... but it still feels very little like they're my own memories. It's not like amnesia, but I don't know how to describe it.
They're kind of like the Warrior's of Light who vanished during the Calamity as described in ARR. I know these people were there, and I know that they saved me when everything seemed hopeless... and yet when I try to recall their faces, all I see is light behind silouettes. When I try to say their names, they disappear on my tongue.
And it feels so shitty, because why wouldn't I remember people who were super close to me? But that was the nasty thing with being psychotic, I was so caught up with being constantly in terror, and being unable to determine what was real or not, that even the good things aren't more than vague flickers of light amidst the hopeless darkness I was in. I can barely claim to be the same person, because those years stole "me" for lack of a better way of putting it.
I feel like I came out of that situation a completely different person, someone who is ultimately more "real"... but that makes me question whether the people I held dear actually knew me. They knew a broken down person bearing my name, but I don't recognize that person at all. It was practically a stranger behind the wheel veering off the road over and over again and causing more damage to the vehicle itself.
And it sounds so stupid, I know, but FFXIV sincerely was my sole lifeline. It was the only normal thing... and yet it didn't shield me from the repercussions of losing my sense of self, as is evident in hindsight now that I'm out of the abyss that was my abode for years. It's like I fell asleep at 19 and woke up at 24, and suddenly I had to recalibrate the way I viewed myself and the way I no longer felt like I belonged with other people my age. And then another couple years were spent catching up and trying to "age" myself accordingly. All while fighting to rid myself of the paranoia and delusions that still had me in a chokehold.
And here I am now, running around in FFXIV, free from my delusions and my paranoia once and for all... all while still looking for the people that were around me when I had just started playing, and trying to process that the one safe place I had was just as fleeting as everything else in my life after all.
I should have known that, it's an obvious thing when spelling it out like such. But it shows me that despite having come this far, there's still a lot of work for me to do, and a lot of grief to come to terms with about everything I lost. Things that one may take for granted, that can never be reclaimed once it's gone.
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Logan and Max have another talk, or 'does kissing count as free therapy?'
Part 2 of whatever this was. I couldn't fall asleep last night because of how hard I kept thinking about these two. I blame @girlsdads for giving me the brainrot in the first place.
cw: the tiniest bit of implied sexual content
It's another bad race. Fucking 16th, only ahead of the two Saubers, and of the Haas and Alpine that had crashed each other out. There was no reason why his pit stop had to be 4.3 seconds, when Alex's had been 2.7, no reason why he had been fucked over by not one but two undercuts because of shitty strategy, no reason why Alex's side of the garage had to be celebrating 8th place while his was sullen and quiet.
Logan fears he's going to throw up when he steps in and James claps him on the shoulder, saying sorry, next time, as if Logan doesn't know his contract is on the line. Fucking. Next time?!
Logan feels like he's trying to swim with his hands tied behind his back, desperately trying to make it to shore. Nobody cares he's drowning.
He can barely look up during the debrief, feels like he's choking the whole time on the words nobody is saying. As soon as he's free, he escapes, fumbling for his phone as usual. Only this time, he doesn't call his mom.
Are you free?
Max has his motorhome this weekend, and Logan doesn't wait for an answer before heading over. If he doesn't answer, he'll just take a walk.
Yes come over
He's knocking on Max's door before he can rethink it, before all these feelings catch up on him and he decides he's going to break down alone instead. When Max opens his door, Logan immediately regrets it. He's wearing a black t-shirt, hair styled, looking ready to go out. Of course he's heading out, he has a win to celebrate. Unlike Logan. Who should have just gone home.
He opens his mouth, ready to apologize and turn around, when Max's hand closes on his shoulder, his mouth downturned with what would be worry, if it wasn't absurd for Max Verstappen to be worried about him.
"Come in," Max says, doesn't leave space for arguments when he pulls Logan inside, closing the door behind him.
For a long moment they just look at each other, as Logan's waves lap at his neck. He doesn't know why he's here anymore.
"Are you okay?" Max's hand is still on his shoulder. Logan feels like he'll keel over if he takes it back.
"I might be out of a seat."
It's not an answer to Max's question, it's not even what Logan meant to say, it's not something he should be telling to the competition, but really. Logan is barely Max's competition at all, and who wouldn't know that after this season's disaster? Nobody is counting on him to race next year.
He waits for Max to say something, even if it's just empty platitudes, but the other just squeezes his shoulder and nods, and suddenly it's much harder to hold back his tears.
"I just..." he breathes in, willing his voice to not crack, "I don't know what I am doing wrong."
It comes out more desperate than he meant it to, but he's just so tired and upset, and nobody is seeing him drown. Why is nobody paying attention?
"You have a shit car, get bad strategy calls, and have a teammate with years more of experience. You are not the one doing it wrong."
Max says it so matter of fact, as if he's the one driving the shit car, the one with the better teammate, the one having to fight through the back of the field with no success, and suddenly Logan is angry. He shrugs Max's hand away, fists clenching. What does Max know about being the second driver in a bad team? How dares he say he knows Logan's hunger?
"Fuck off," he spits, wrapping his arms around himself to hide the way his hands are trembling. He shouldn't have come.
"You have potential, you are not doing it wrong," Max says again, stubborn and bull-headed as always, jaw set and eyes clear. Logan's anger spikes again. Max Verstappen, the prodigy child, talking to him about wasted potential? This must be a joke. He scoffs, ready to turn around and leave, but Max grabs him again, gets a hold on his elbow and keeps him where he is.
"Why are you angry?" he asks. And yeah, this must be a joke, for sure. Why is Logan angry? Why is he angry?!
"You don't get to..." he starts, but Max interrupts him, squeezing his elbow.
"No. Why are you angry?"
"The team..."
Max takes a step closer, narrowing his eyes.
"Not the team, I do not care about the team. Why are you angry?"
As if there was a right answer to the question that Logan isn't getting! It's his own anger! And Max doesn't care about the team? Of course he doesn't, it's not his team fucking up! Why can't Logan be angry about the team?!
"Alex gets..."
"No. Why are you angry?" Max interrupts again, steadfast in a way that grates on Logan's nerves.
They're too close now, and for a second Logan entertains the idea of punching three times world Champion Max Verstappen. Anger burns in his chest, and suddenly, without knowing who closed the gap, they're kissing. It's not a nice kiss, all teeth and spit, and it almost feels the same as the punch he hasn't thrown, until Max moves his hand from his elbow to his waist, the other one coming up to cup the back of his neck, turning his head slightly. Gentling him.
His anger is back in his lungs, but it's no longer anger, it's back to salt water, and Logan is drowning again. He breaks the kiss, gasping, but Max doesn't let him go.
Logan doesn't remember the last time someone held him like this, like being here matters.
"Why are you angry?" Max asks again, breath soft against Logan's bitten lips. He smells vaguely like minty toothpaste.
"Because..." he hesitates, but at this point he might as feel say fuck it, and give it all. All his fleshy insides in Max's hands, bleeding on the floor between them. "Because I could do better, but I can't do it like this."
This time Max nods. "You could do better."
And Logan knows his parents and friends have said it before, have kept saying it for years. Knows his time in Formula 2 speaks for itself. But it's different, to have Max say it like that, so surely. It's a different kind of validation, and a different kind of heartbreak, because they both know his time to prove it is running out. It's hard to breathe again.
"It is good to be angry. It makes you want to take it," Max says, maybe mistaking the way his breathing has gone funny. But Logan doesn't feel angry anymore. He's tired, and scared, and lonely. He drops his head on Max's shoulder, who moves to card his fingers in his hair, bearing his weight with ease. Logan wishes anything would come easy to him instead.
"I don't know how to be angry," Logan confesses. He doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to disappoint Max, but he disappoints better than he lies anyway. What's one more person.
"That is of course still okay," Max says, instead of some sort of rebuke Logan is expecting. For a second, he thinks about the stories of Max's childhood, of angry men and steel hands. Max's fingers are gentle in his hair.
"What do you want right now?"
It's too big of a question. Logan wants his seat to be safe, he wants to end in the points, he wants a good car, he wants to not feel so distant from everyone else, he wants to go home. He wants someone to tell him it will be alright and mean it.
He shakes his head, forehead dragging against Max's t-shirt. Disappointing again.
Max holds his hair a little tighter, uses the grip to pull Logan up, to make him open his eyes.
"What do you need?"
And it's the same, but it is different, and Logan needs...he needs...
"You can take it. What you need." Max sounds so sure of it, Logan can almost believe it. Maybe Logan doesn't know how to take, doesn't know how to fix it, but here, now, he at least knows what he needs.
"I need to be better," he says, words bleeding out from his split-open chest. "I need to be good."
They both know what Logan means, because the thing with Max is, that it's always about racing, even when it isn't, and it is also always both at the same time.
Max nods, letting go of his hair, and Logan pushes him around, back against the door. Gentle, because he needs to be, but firm, because he wants this.
He eases himself to his knees, and feels Max's hand cup his cheek. His raspy voice isn't disappointed, or pitying, or even sad when he speaks, only fond. A little proud.
"Good boy."
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OKAY. HI HI HI HI HI. THOUGHTS ON NHW MAL POWERS
i am going 2 leave the actual classification up to you because i dont have the innate sense of them yet like i do for classpects and such and i know im banned from the wiki rn so ill just talk about. base level What I Think He Can Do.
FIRST OF ALL. THE BIG THING. GHOUL. so. technically if i remember correctly. mal isnt a planeswalker like william is so ghoul is technically a separate being? ghoul is his guide, which is what allows him to go between the real world and the spirit world. HOWEVER. ghoul is nothing to me so in nhw world i think he should just be like. a separate form. mal turns into ghoul and its the same consciousness u know? hes the same guy hes just a freak now. worm comparison i am thinking is like. what rachel does to her dogs except hes doing it to himself. with the gross muscles and bones and big mouth and shit.
OTHER THAN THAT i thinkkkkkk. ok. hear me out. i am going 2 base this on a tweet bizly made forever ago (that im SO MAD i cant find a picture of rn) but the basics was like. u remember that nightmare dakota had back in season 1 where he saw william and vyncent kill summer . that was a nightmare that mal gave him in order to split the three of them up. SO WHAT IF. nhw mal has some sort of dream/mind manipulation abilities or something. hes had so many moments where he just like. appears out of the shadows in order to get them to do what he wants im just imagining the horror of that from an outside perspective just seeing one of the heroes mid battle just Fall Asleep for a while. but to them its like nothing happens and they dont realize it until he leaves and theyre waking up. do you see my vision here.
either that or i think his powers should be like. kind of countered to wibby? i know in pd his powers are similar to williams bc hes a ghost and everything but. im thinking we dont do that in nhw. INSTEAD. maybe in ghoul form or whatever he has heightened senses/abilities that allow him to see through things like invisibility and touch things that are intangible. (thinking abt this strategy-wise, it would be their goal to take him down as mal BEFORE he transforms bc then he becomes almost impossible for william to fight) . maybe this seems too targeted against william specifically but im jsut thinking like. ghoul in general just makes him more powerful and those are just a couple specific advantages he gets? uh oh im running out of words in my brain help
MAYBE THIS IS. TOO MUCH IN TOO MANY DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS. so he doesnt have to have all of these at once. i am really just throwing spaghetti noodles at your inbox and seeing what sticks to the wall or whatever the phrase is. hi it took me like an hour to type all of this bc i kept getting distracted and forgetting words!!!!!!!!!!!
YEAHHHH YAYUAYAY THIS IS ALL GOOD SPAGHETTI!!!!!!! too much in too many directions is so fun dude i fucking love being the rubber ducky for shit like this!!
i REALLY ENJOY fucked up body horror changer shit... ough. (thats what him physically changing like rachels dogs would b, as opposed 2 breakers who-- oh god it's too late for this. umm. physical change different than energy form etc.)... he should get 2 be a weird terrifying freak thing. with bone & blood n stuff. & there's precedent for changing in a way that alters ur senses & powers etc..... maybe he choose what and how he transforms to respond in a certain way or target a certain scenario. i dont wanna go fishing rn but remind me tmrw n i'll rb this with some screenshots from ward of the guy im thinking of who this reminds me of!!
that being said the idea of him having big mind manipulation stuff is also SO compelling. god. being able to like... create illusions & scenarios that are completely fake. delude people or put them to sleep or mess with their cognition in ways they dont even notice... alter perception of reality.... especially if he has a wide range of effect?? that goes hard!!! how long would it last... how would u snap out of it... could he make u feel stuff that's not real??? ok ok ok getting off track. anyway. i love the idea of a fight with him being timed because he's transforming.... maybe a form that's just. very good at Seeing Things? mal/ghouls original job was like, as a cleaner for clarence, right? making sure everything in the afterlife's in order? so many choices...
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