#soul liminality 2: i would die for you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunarsands · 1 year

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ALSMP Fanfic: Who’s The Unfairest Of Us All

Characters: actual!angel!Sausage, starborne!Scott, cursed!angel!Myth, human!Smajor, goddess!PearlescentMoon

Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor

Tags: fictional religion, It’s the return of: Crossover between two Afterlife fic universes and What If The In-Love Versions Met The Murderous Versions?

WARNINGS: Violence, Injury, Bleeding, PTSD, threats of death, and well yes actual (temporary) death this time

Summary: Scott and Sausage find themselves transported to the parallel universe of their rivalrous versions, and end up stumbling across Myth and Smajor in their final sorry states. Myth, however, doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him, so Sausage has a fight on his hands far unlike the last one.

Sequel to Mirror Mirror, Break Our Fall. Takes place sometime after the events of Hellbent and Wherever These Flowers May Grow.

(Also available on Ao3!)

[A/N: I had zero plans to make a sequel to Mirror Mirror but sometimes when you’re doing some cathartic writing an idea emerges that is too good to pass up. So here we are: the crossover is now canon to both universes, barring mentions in the Soul Liminality 2: I Would Die For You universe. I did kind of have a feeling I shouldn’t have labeled Soul Liminality (1) as Complete…]

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“Have a nice trip around the skies, my starlight,” Sausage said, giving Scott a peck on the cheek as they stood amid the drifting motes of gold emitted by the dark blue flowers in the garden. Right after dusk was their favorite time to pause and have a few minutes between just the two of them, when Sausage’s daily duties had ended and Scott’s nightly work was about to begin.

“Have a good night,” Scott replied, smiling softly in return. “I’ll see you in the morn— Or, not? Sausage,” he questioned with a gently chiding tone, “Were you ignoring a summons just to say goodbye? That’s sweet and all, but you could simply say it right away then go to Pearl.”

“I… wasn’t? What do you mean?”

“You’re glowing.”

Sausage gave a sappy grin. “Well, that’s because I’m so happy to be with you right now.”

“No, I mean literally glowing! Don’t you feel that??”

Sausage looked down at himself at the same time that Scott grabbed him by the arm. His body was limned in silvery light, reminiscent of when Pearl had turned him into a flame to travel out of the celestial realm into the mortal world. “W-Wait, I. I don’t know what’s happening!”

“So, it’s not Pearl?” Scott hastily looked around in case they managed to summon her for an explanation.

“No, I don’t hear anything. Wait…you’re glowing, too. And not like normal.”

Scott checked his own arms. The new glow outshined the violet sparkles on his skin. Then he felt a tug like when he was passing the edge of a planet’s gravitational field. He gripped Sausage tighter as the seraph’s form wavered into that flamelike shape from the last time they had left home. “Don’t let go of me!”

Sausage responded by clasping Scott in a half-hug with his free arm and wrapping his wings around the starborne as the light around both of them flared even brighter.

When the light faded out, they found themselves standing in complete darkness; even the glittering of Scott’s skin and the tiny constellation around his head were engulfed by it. Sausage cautiously folded his wings back but kept a hand on Scott so they stayed together. He whispered, “Where are we?”

“Somewhere underground. Very far underground.”

“How do you know? And how come you’re not sparkling like usual?”

“My powers have been cut off. No sky, no starlight – not even any radiating from me. The further down, the weaker I get. So, we’re… close to bedrock by my reckoning.”

“Oh… That makes sense, but isn’t great news.” Sausage went quiet, then made a sound like he was straining to do something. “Um, nope. My holy aura isn’t working, either. Is this magical darkness?”

“Both maybe. I still wouldn’t have much power underground, even if this was only magic.”

“Let me try something else.” This time the blackness was pierced by a sliver of pale yellow light as he pulled his flaming sword from thin air. It was unnervingly dim, however. “Well, it’s something.” Sausage held the sword up high to get a glimpse of their surroundings, although he maintained a grip on Scott’s hand for the moment.

They appeared to be in a cave made of deepslate, netherbrick, and blackstone. Scott frowned, puzzled. “That’s not normal. I’m pretty sure I could also tell if we were in the Nether.”

“Let’s… have a look around,” Sausage said, tone cautious. “There has to be more caves and tunnels somewhere, and there’s got to be a way up to the surface. The sooner we get you out to open sky, the better.”

Scott chuckled. “Don’t count me out completely. Can you summon more than one sword at a time? I can still use a weapon, it doesn’t have to be my own.”

“You know, I never really thought to try!” Sausage handed the flaming sword to Scott; as soon as it cleared his fingers, the flames disappeared, but the sword itself remained solid. Stuck in total darkness again, Sausage held his arm up high to not potentially pull out another sword right in front of Scott’s face.

What he pulled out of the air instead was a wedge-shaped shield dusted in muted flames. It featured a pair of simplified feathered wings and a sunflower in the middle toward the top. “Huh! Learn something new every day! It never occurred to me that would happen!” He added in a mutter, “No one ever told me, either.”

“You’re too busy using your own body as a shield,” Scott pointed out with another chuckle.

“My swordsmanship is so good I don’t need one – come on, now!”

“All right, then. We’ll switch. You get the flaming sword, and run offense, I’ll take the shield and be defense.” As the items changed hands, the flames along the shield went out while the sword flared back up, yet still not as bright as they should have been. Scott settled the shield against his forearm, hefting it a few times to get a sense of its weight, then joined Sausage in checking along the walls for openings or the sound of bats that could lead them to another cave.

~*~

Smajor lazily played floor hockey with the clock Myth had so generously given him after he had whined long enough about at least letting him know what time it was, if not what day. Of course, it did immediately break when Myth dropped it between the bars of the window in the iron door, but it gave Smajor something to do other than stare up at the ceiling or occasionally toss the discarded arm guard, which Myth had once used to keep a tally of Smajor’s deaths, against the door just to hear it clang.

He had no idea what Myth was doing with his time. He always seemed to just be sitting out there, cloaked in his ichor-soaked wings and staring at a soul lantern on the barely discernible table beside a wall of sculk. The entire chamber that the cell was situated in seemed to be made entirely of sculk. He figured that was intentional so Myth could mislead him into believing they were where a Warden could spawn, discouraging Smajor from trying to escape since a Warden could effortlessly pummel him when he had absolutely nothing to use to try to get away from it. However, he had never heard a shrieker or a sensor go off despite the clangs and scrapes, and he was certain he was being loud enough to trigger one if they existed nearby.

Smajor had also entertained the thought of throwing the clock at Myth to make a noise, but he both didn’t want to lose it nor risk Myth deciding to alleviate boredom by taking the sword that was lying beside the lantern and running him through a few dozen times.

It's not like there was any danger of the helpless Smajor suddenly reviving with new powers. But he was glad Myth hadn’t made it a hobby to kill him on a regular basis just for the fun of it. He also wouldn’t admit that he was glad the clock partially worked – ticking quietly every so often, but never changing time, as if the mechanism that counted the seconds was still trying to do its job.

With a sigh, he lightly whacked the clock with the side of his foot so that it slid under the bed. Then he turned to the door and stuck his arms out between the bars, letting them hang down as he leaned on the door. There was Myth, only visible by the light of the blue lantern and flickers of sculk, jet black wings held partially unfolded and moving ever-so-slightly as the cursed angel breathed.

Unable to see Myth’s face at that angle, Smajor wasn’t sure if he was asleep or not. Well, he wasn’t sure if he ever actually slept at all, but since he himself fell asleep regularly, those were the times he couldn’t exactly check to find out.

He debated whether to try counting the specks of pulsing turquoise in the wall again. Then something new caught his eye. Somewhere on the far end of the chamber seemed to be something bright that was reflecting off of… whatever was over there. He couldn’t see that far in the rest of the darkness to be sure. “Hey, what’s that?”

Myth shifted but didn’t turn. “Oh, stop. That didn’t work the first two hundred times, it isn’t going to work now.”

“No, I’m serious! There’s a – a light! Yeah, it’s a light, I’m pretty sure. There’s never anything else bright down here. You should know that.”

Myth grunted in annoyance and continued to not look.

“Have you gone blind, too?” Smajor made a noise of disgust. “Not that it would surprise me if you’re going off some freakish angel senses at this point. I—” His breath caught in his throat. He recognized that particular color and type of flickering light. He swore and backed away from the bars. “Hey, uh. You don’t think one of your brethren would come to check on how good of a job you’re doing keeping me locked up, do you?”

Myth finally moved to stand up, hands leaning on the table. “What nonsense are you on about? It’s probably some idiot spelunker who just made the worst mistake of their life by managing to find their way down here.”

Smajor edged forward enough to see Myth start to move away toward the other end of the chamber. He backed up again, then cast his gaze around the tiny, obsidian-lined cell. He snatched up the meager piece of armor laying on the floor and slipped it on. It didn’t fit too well, but it could serve as some shred of defense.

~*~

As Sausage and Scott entered a spacious cavern, they felt a little more hope that one of the shelves at the higher reaches would contain a passage leading upwards. So far, the tunnels and caves had been mostly flat and sealed on top.

Sausage pointed between two dripstone pillars toward a large lake. A lavafall higher up lent some light to the far side of the water, but was barely enough to reach the section they stood in. He whispered, “Someone has been down here, at one time anyway.” They saw several discarded buckets on the shore of the lake.

“Maybe someone collecting obsidian,” Scott suggested, also keeping his voice quiet.

“They don’t seem to have left a trail out of there, unfortunately.”

“That might mean they flew in. Which means they also flew out. Let’s look around over here more, just in case, then figure out how to get over there. Although this does seem to be another dead end…”

“And that’s a lot of sculk,” Sausage griped. “I don’t see any sensors anywhere yet, but they could be on the other side. I’m not particularly interested in trying to fight a Warden without knowing if there’s another exit nearby. I mean, we could hide out up top until it goes away, but we might trigger another one when we come back down to, uh. Retrace our steps.”

“We’ll have to check eventually,” Scott whispered back. “I think the question is whether you go up alone or take me with you. …Wait, hold on – I think there’s a passage over there.” He was sneaking closer to the wall of sculk that had spread nearly halfway across the floor.

Sausage stood still for a second, muttering, “Yeah, um, I don’t think going through more sculk is going to lead out.” He tiptoed after him anyway, holding his sword up to give Scott more light, although he even more reluctantly followed him into the passageway.

…Right up until the starborne stopped and uttered a string of awkward noises. “Um. Hehn. Uh. Sorry, I don’t think we’re supposed to be here. We’ll just, um, be… leaving…”

Sausage heard him draw a sharp breath, then saw what he was staring at.

…Who he was staring at.

Sausage’s hand unconsciously went up to touch his right cheek. “It… can’t be…” He was looking at himself, but with jet black wings, ragged and torn clothes, with sculk vein running along the side of his face and across the top wing on that side, and also down his arm – and four horizontal scars to go with the one over his eye.

What were the odds of another version of him having the exact same scars as…

“Myth?” Sausage asked in horrified wonder.

“You,” the other responded, voice low and yet oddly calm.

Scott raised the shield. Myth had changed since the last time they had seen him; there was no telling if his feelings toward them had, as well.

Smajor attempted to get a view of what was happening, but Myth’s stupid multiple pairs of wings were blocking everything. What he heard, however, was a voice just like Myth’s but less gravelly. His hands squeezed the bars until his knuckles turned white. “It can’t be… It cannot be. H-How? Why?” He growled quietly. Those two…

Myth then uttered a dry laugh and turned with an arm extended like a host inviting guests into the parlor. “Oh, do come in. Welcome to our little home. It’s less comfortable than the limbo dimension was, but neither of you look like you need water or room to change gravity.”

“Yeah, welcome!” Smajor called out. “Don’t be scared – you’re not the ones on the wrong side of the bars!” He added darkly, “Or are you…”

“We’ll settle for the exit,” Scott replied, although he snuck a glance past Myth to try to see what state his own double was in.

Myth put a hand on the top edge of the shield and pushed it downward. “I’d like to insist. Maybe you could at least explain how you got here, never mind what you’re doing here in the first place. The ancient city is miles away. You can’t tell me you went through your side, got through that entire maze again, and came through our portal for no reason.” There was an edge to his voice and Scott didn’t like the way he was staring at Sausage – or maybe it was just that the flaming sword was making Myth nervous.

If his powers had been working, he would have let off a burst of sparks to blind the two who were apparently used to living in the sculk-infested darkness. He sorely wished he and Sausage had investigated the top of the neighboring cavern right away.

Meanwhile, Sausage lowered his sword. “We didn’t do anything. One minute we were standing around at home, then there was a bright light, and then we were here! Well, several caves and tunnels back that way, technically.”

“Just out of the blue?” Myth questioned. He moved into the chamber and leaned against the table, appearing to sound genuinely curious.

Smajor snickered at how out of place the attempt at a casual attitude looked. “Very good, Myth, you seem so normal right now.” He then flicked a hand at Scott. “So, what even are you? I didn’t turn into anything that looked like that. Not that I remember everything I was before this. You’ll have to ask him if I ever turned purple and… fancy, or whatever it is you’ve got going on. What type of powers do you have? I’m starved for knowledge of the outside world – tell me, tell me.”

Scott shook his head. “That’s for me to know and you not to find out.” He then looked at Myth. “So… this was your solution? You brought him back and put him in a cell…?”

“Oh, there were a few altercations after we got back. You know, since it didn’t take long for him to find a way to kill me. But that first one he did to me after getting back, well…” Myth took a step forward and stretched out his wings, forcing Scott and Sausage to move clear in opposite directions, with the starborne ending up uncomfortably close to his depowered double.

Sausage noticed the black spatters of ichor on the ground and raised a finger to ask something, but Myth turned his attention back to Scott and said, “Now, see, you don’t know! You didn’t get the honor of looking into my soul and my private memories! This is what’s called poetic irony. You see, when he was a vampire, he imprisoned me in a little dungeon and had himself angel blood on tap until he finally drained me enough times that I became a wither.” Myth smiled sardonically. “And you thought ‘accidentally’ killing your angel was the worst thing you ever did!”

Scott darted a pained look at Sausage; the seraph mouthed the words, ‘I didn’t tell him about that,’ in a hasty defense.

Myth swung a lazy glance between the two. “The soul thing went both ways, by the way. So, I got a glimpse of your past. And now look at you.” Here he turned toward Sausage, spreading his wings just enough to block Scott. “All shining silver and holy fire still at your call. Of course this would happen – it makes perfect sense we ended up as opposites. How is life in the celestial realm? As you can see…” Here his voice went from a casual conversational tone to completely flat, “I’m two steps from hell.”

Sausage gazed back at his double with nothing but sympathy. “Myth… What happened to you? You obviously became a seraph, too, but… what’s wrong with your wings? Why are they dripping like… you’ve got a permanent wound?”

“Oh, you should have seen them when they were red! It was even more ghastly!”

Sausage’s eyes widened. “Wait – red, like blood? But that only happens if—” He stopped himself as realization hit. “Right. Of course.” He bowed his head, then cast a sad look toward where the cell sat beyond Myth’s wings.

“So, you do know the stories,” Myth said dispassionately.

“I… Well, I had a nightmare about that once.”

“Lucky you! Only a nightmare!” Myth flapped his bottom wings once, sending ichor splattering onto the ground. “Well, this is the reality of what happens when an angel kills someone, hmm, how many was it, Smajor?”

The reply came in a feigned weary tone. “One hundred and three.” Smajor surreptitiously clutched the arm guard he now wore.

“That was it,” Myth confirmed with a nod. “Kill someone over a hundred times, you get a cursed angel.”

“Myth…” Sausage’s voice was full of sorrow. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I… I don’t know what can be done. But maybe we can find a way to help—”

Myth suddenly closed his hand around the hilt of the sword on the table, although it was his empty hand that he lashed out with to shove Sausage backward. His face twisted into a snarl. “You don’t get to just show up now and try to redeem me again! It didn’t really work the first time! It gave me the power I needed, but I was doomed from the start!!” He swung the sword. Its darkly-stained blade clashed with the bright edge of Sausage’s sword as the seraph answered with a blocking maneuver.

“Sausage!” Scott cried, about to leap over to help, but was yanked back when something snagged the collar of his overcoat. Rage crossed his own face; he had ended up too close to Smajor, which was something he had wanted to avoid. He spun around, ripping the fabric free from the other’s hand.

Smajor let his arm hang down outside the window; the other arm, with the guard on it, he kept snug between his chest and the door. “Oh, relax. I can’t do anything. I don’t have any powers at all anymore. But, hear me out – let’s just have a little entertainment! Yours has got to be more powerful than mine, still being holy and all. Let him wipe the floor with Myth, then we’ll see about this ‘help’ you might be able to offer. And figure out whatever mysterious force brought you here, of all places.”

Scott regarded him with exasperation. “So, you didn’t learn anything from all this?”

“Was I supposed to? I still want to wring his neck, given the chance.” Smajor smirked then licked his lips. “He’s so convinced he was destined to be my jailer. I could at least make it worth his time.”

Scott rolled his eyes then said dryly, “I see Sausage fixed it so you weren’t an unhinged psychopath anymore. Now you’re just a regular one.”

The clash of steel drew his attention back to the two angels as Myth forced Sausage into the passageway. Scott felt like he had missed his window to be defense like he had proposed. This is just like the last time. I couldn’t do much before as a fish out of water, all I had was a trident. He looked at the shield. I don’t know if I could even throw this effectively since I haven’t gotten used to it yet… And I doubt I’m suddenly going to start getting any of my other powers back.

Smajor let out an exaggerated groan. “Aww, I can’t see what’s going on if they leave! Hey – purple me. Snap out of it and let me out of here so I can watch! You can be my new guard. I promise I’ll behave.” He grinned with a look that was everything the complete opposite of innocence.

“I think you’ll be fine for a few minutes without supervision.” Scott eyed the numerous locks on the door that only now were noticeable in the unhindered light from the soul lantern. It hadn’t sounded like Myth had that many keys on him when he moved, which meant they were hidden somewhere. Smajor was the least of his concerns, anyway. The sound of Sausage crying out in pain was the immediate one, so he ran toward the passage. He would figure out how to aid his partner when he got there.

Smajor gripped the bars with both hands and growled again. “I hate all of you…”

Sausage did his best to meet every swing and made some attempts to push back, sweeping his wings out of the way and dodging as Myth struck at him relentlessly – wild yet controlled enough to land hits; the cursed angel was eerily precise. He was enraged, yes, but clearly more sane than Smajor had been back in the limbo dimension. Surely Sausage could try to reason with him. “Myth! Please! We don’t have to fight! Let me hel—”

“THAT’S why!” Myth shouted. “Stop looking at me like I’m someone to be saved! You can’t save everyone, Sausage! Someone has to fall through the cracks sometime! You can hold out your hand all you want but that doesn’t mean you’re going to catch them!” As if to emphasize the point, he yanked his sword away and beat his wings, lifting up just enough to perform a kick that sent Sausage stumbling backward.

Sausage quickly caught his balance, although he clutched his chest plate where the kick had landed. “But... But you’re me! How do I give up on myself??”

“Easy.” Myth shifted his wings and dived forward, whipping his sword to the side to slash Sausage’s arm between the edges of his armor plates. “You stop caring.”

Sausage stumbled again, crying out in pain. The bite of the cursed angel’s blade hurt much more than he was expecting.

Myth kept in step with him, slashing again and again before Sausage could recover, slicing into his wings and hitting spots the gleaming silver armor didn’t cover. “Just shut it off,” he continued coldly. “Shut off the part of you that cares. It’s the only way to survive. The. Only. Way.”

He kicked Sausage again to send the seraph to his knees. Clutching at one of the wounds on his arm, Sausage found himself out of words for the moment. He looked at the palm of his hand as he drew it away. It wasn’t blood there, but black ichor, as if Myth’s sword had bled into him. The slashes across his wings were similarly staining his feathers black, with the color spreading as it dripped through the layers of silvery white.

Myth stared down at him with bitterness. “I could have gone an eternity without ever seeing either of you again. I didn’t need to be reminded of everything I can’t have.” He brought his blade up, but Sausage got a foot under himself and was able to brace his sword in time to block the strike, then he forced his body upward to push Myth back and then throw the cursed angel’s arms wide, with Myth needing to catch his own balance, which involved spreading his wings and sending droplets of ichor flying.

The effort brought a fresh wave of pain from each one of Sausage’s wounds and he had to back off, hand clamped over one of the gashes on his sword arm. “A-And if I don’t want to do that?” he weakly protested.

“Then you had better hope whatever brought you here decides to step in and take you back, because I can’t stand to keep looking at you.” Myth’s expression was once more all cold and bitterness as he raised his sword. Sausage gripped the hilt of his blade with both hands, but wasn’t sure he had the strength to block again. He folded one of his top wings across his face to act as a meager barrier.

Mercy didn’t register for even the briefest second as Myth started to bring the sword down. He would have no qualms about slicing through those pure, bright feathers.

Then Scott ploughed into him from the side, shield leading. He continued the charge until the ground turned into dripstone and he nearly shoved the cursed angel past the columns into the next part of the cavern. Myth flailed his wings, battering at Scott from around the shield. Scott tried to keep his head down behind it, but the feeling of the thick, wet ichor on his neck made him balk from revulsion.

He whipped the shield to the side, knocking Myth’s wings away, then he turned and ran back to where Sausage had dropped to his knees with a hand braced on the ground. Scott took a defiant stance over him. “Sausage, can you get up? What’s happening with those wounds? You… aren’t bleeding, but…”

“His – His sword. It’s become an unholy weapon. It’s hurting me differently than a normal one would.”

Scott glanced down with concern, although he didn’t want to take his eyes off Myth for too long; the cursed angel did seem to be weighing what to do with a fresh combatant that might not be affected by his weapon in the same way, and hadn’t moved yet. “Then you need to heal yourself quickly! Don’t worry about him attacking, I’ll protect you.”

“B-But, if you get hit, you can’t heal like me!”

“Focus on yourself first.” Scott flicked a glance at Myth, then looked squarely at Sausage and said grimly, “Because I need you to get back in this fight so I can do something to get us out of here. I have one power I can use…”

The seraph struggled to his feet, silver light now dancing over his wounds, although the stains on his feathers persisted. “But we don’t even know if there is a way out up there!” He nodded upward once, thinking Scott meant he had an energy reserve enough for an emergency boost to the rocky shelf above.

“I’ll make one,” Scott replied. He adjusted his feet and braced himself when it looked like Myth might be about to rush at them.

Instead, Sausage grabbed the shield from him and shot forward in a flurry of wings and fading silver light as his healing ability finished its work. With a beat of his wings, he leapt upward to lend more force to his attack. Myth launched himself to meet him halfway, taking the fight to the air. The cursed blade clashed with the now blazing shield. Myth didn’t seem concerned about his own lack of such defense, relying on his long-honed agility in flight to dodge Sausage’s strikes while attempting to land hits on the seraph once again, showing no hesitation in the face of the holy flames.

While they fought above, Scott walked to the center of the cavern and raised one hand, closing his eyes as he concentrated on cosmic wavelengths far beyond the reach of stone and soil. He grasped hold with his command of planetary gravity and urged it to answer his call.

One of the tiny stars orbiting his head winked out. He felt one of the many taut threads of local gravity slacken. It seemed to have worked, yet now he could only wait in anticipation to see if the meteor strike would actually arrive.

He smiled in satisfaction at the sound of rumbling. When chips of stone began to drop from the ceiling, he took off running in the direction opposite of the sculk passageway. “Sausage! Get clear of the middle!!”

With large pieces of stone starting to fall around them, Sausage made one last, powerful sweep of his wings while at the same time drawing his legs up to plant his feet on Myth’s chest. Then he punted him downward, subsequently sending him away from the center as well. Sausage hastily swooped after Scott as massive cracks spread overhead.

The ceiling gave way as a nine-meter-wide meteorite crashed through, opening the underground to the night sky.

As he flew clear, Myth stared over his shoulder in disbelief. He couldn’t even fathom whatever powers it was that Scott had, since he hadn’t manifested any other type of offense until that moment. Myth then had to shield his body with his top and bottom wings as the meteorite’s impact with the floor threw more debris everywhere, the shockwave sending chunks of deepslate on a horizontal axis into every available opening in the walls.

Through the clouds of dust, Myth saw the white flash of Sausage’s wings as he sped upward to the brand-new exit to the surface, and he assumed the seraph was carrying Scott with him. He was incensed by their escape, but he knew there was a possibility that the impact could have damaged the cell, so he glided down to check.

He completely missed the streak of bright violet sparkles that followed after Sausage.

The sculk in the passageway had been scored by one piece of large debris that had been flung into the chamber; that piece now rested up against the iron door, which had been rammed directly in the middle, buckling it inward and tearing the hinges clean off at the top and bottom. Smajor was in the process of wiggling out through the gap close to the floor. He had cut his hip on the edge of the broken door, but wasn’t letting that stop him as he pulled himself along far enough to get his legs free of the cell.

Then he looked up and saw Myth.

He swore.

Myth strode over and grabbed him by one arm to haul him to his feet. “We’ll have to find a new place to put you later. Let me show you why you wouldn’t have gotten very far anyway.” He dragged Smajor out to the main cavern and then let him just stare at the hunk of space rock embedded in the middle. “Only way out now is up,” Myth declared, with heavy emphasis on the last word.

Smajor could only stutter in response. “Whu – What did this??”

“Well, I know angels can’t call down huge meteors. The other me would have used holy fire, even though it would have taken a while for it to blast through this deep. Whatever your double is did this.” Myth squeezed Smajor’s arm. “Maybe you should ask him yourself.” With a beat of his wings and spray of ichor, he launched upward, taking Smajor with him via a painful wrenching of his shoulder.

He hadn’t seemed to have noticed that Smajor was wearing the arm guard, although Smajor himself doubted it was going to serve any purpose.

Sausage landed a meter or two from the edge of the giant hole, taking a moment to assess his new wounds. He knelt on one knee to put down his sword and shield so he could have both hands free to get a better look at his still-stained feathers – but still be able to grab them again if Myth should happen to come shooting out of the hole in pursuit.

He smiled instead when he saw a trail of purple sparkles arcing up into the air before Scott came back down, his body completely aglow then fading into his regular form – now with his skin glittering once again and the constellation around his head twinkling in the moonlight.

Scott smiled at him in return, then leaned to pick up the sword and shield to hold them for him. “How are the wounds? Are you feeling all right?”

“They still kind of sting. Maybe a little more time and they’ll feel better, but I could go for a regen potion right about now.”

“Since we have a moment, do you have any ideas for what we should even do here? This is their world, not the limbo dimension, and even if we stand a better chance at defeating Myth now that I can use all my powers, that doesn’t necessarily solve things.”

“I’m not sure,” Sausage admitted fretfully. “If he’s gone beyond a fallen angel, there isn’t much that can be done. He had a point… Redemption for angels only goes so far depending on their deeds.”

They didn’t get a chance to discuss the matter further, because right then Myth rose out of the pit with Smajor dangling from his hold. The cursed angel landed a mere ten steps away, and kept a grip on Smajor’s arm. Smajor gawked at Scott but didn’t comment on his now glittery appearance.

Sausage took his sword and shield from Scott, reigniting the flames on them, and held them at the ready, eyeing the sword in Myth’s other hand.

Scott raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Myth, we never meant you any harm. We don’t know why we’re here, but the fact that we did end up in your vicinity must mean the reason is connected to you. Maybe you weren’t meant to save yourself, but an outside perspective could make a difference.”

“If you’re going to start with your forgiveness nonsense again, don’t bother. And don’t you start pitying me, too,” Myth spat. “I don’t need both of you acting like saviors. And I didn’t need to be reminded that there was a happier option out there, or that it was destined to be exactly opposite of my life! I don’t want what you have, but I didn’t ask for this, either! Yet all I could do was accept it. Don’t try to change it now. You’re far too late for that.”

He jerked on Smajor’s arm, causing him to stumble in front of him. Then Myth drew back his other hand—

And then the point of his sword was sticking out of Smajor’s chest.

Smajor looked down, emitting a choked noise. “Yep… That… That still hurts…”

Myth yanked the sword out then threw him to the ground, where he curled up to quietly bleed out. Sausage and Scott stared grimly; a tense stalemate followed. Sausage’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, but he was in no hurry to engage the cursed angel again.

After another minute, Smajor gasped in a breath. He didn’t move, although he did groan out, “Oh, I did not miss that happening…”

Scott and Sausage now traded looks, both realizing Smajor hadn’t changed before reviving. The starborne questioned warily, “Wait, so, he wasn’t just a plain human on that life? What have you done to him?”

“This is what I meant,” Myth replied. “This is it for us. The end result. We go no further, we get no other chances, we’re like this forever.”

Sausage thought back to what he had told Scott moments ago about redemption. “Then… why are we here??” he despaired.

“Maybe,” Myth said in a bland tone as he picked Smajor up by the arm again, “You were sent simply to learn to temper that hero complex of yours. I’ll say it again: you can’t save everyone.” He stepped over to the pit, and the two thought that he was planning to take his leave and lock Smajor up again, and that had been his final word.

Instead, he shoved Smajor over the edge – dropping him to another certain death.

Sausage dismissed his weapons back to thin air and dived toward the rim of the pit, the thought in his mind of this has to stop! not making it to his lips.

“WHAT did I just SAY?!” Myth yelled, darting after him with sword leading to intercept him. “Are you just compelled to rescue people?!” He slashed one of Sausage’s middle wings, sending him off-kilter toward the wall of the pit.

Before Myth could follow, a dazzling burst of purple light exploded in front of him. He dashed a fist across his eyes in reaction.

Scott approached him, a sparking sphere of starlight held in reserve at his side. “Well, then what are you? Compelled to murder?” He would have to hope Sausage had been able to stabilize his flight, if not catch Smajor on the way down. He didn’t hear any sounds from the pit yet, but didn’t want to try to rush directly past Myth, either. Of course, now that he was out in the open, he could call down a star strike almost instantaneously to deal with the cursed angel.

“From pity to judging, here we go.” Myth pointed his sword at Scott. “I guess you’ve never once had the thought in your sparkly head to pay back someone for an injustice done to you. Lucky you.”

Scott decided to try sidling around for a better position to get past him. “Not unless you count an injustice I committed myself, that one day put me in a position to take the revenge another could have enacted upon me, and I was ready to remain locked in limbo to atone for it.”

Myth sneered. “Yes, I already know about the guilt trip you gave yourself, no need to go on about it.”

“Actually, this was something else that came later, but facing it freed me to become this.” Clenching his fist around the sphere, Scott then held his hand outward. From the sky came a shower of twinkling violet, nearly landing on Myth’s head; the sparks danced across his wings, causing him to growl in pain and attempt to dodge out from under the star strike. Scott moved his hand to follow him and maintained the strike until Myth charged toward him. Then he conjured another sphere in one hand and reached into it with the other, pulling out a sword made of the same glowing purple starstuff.

“Of course,” Myth muttered. The sight didn’t stop him; all the glittering light and shining gold of Scott’s overcoat only increased his resentment, and soon he was caught up in a duel with the more nimble starborne.

Out of reflex, Sausage pulled in his freshly injured wing as the pain caused by the cursed blade flared. He had just enough time to tuck his top pair of wings against his neck to cushion it as well as the back of his head before he crashed into the wall. Pain spiked along his back but faded as he dropped downward. He forced both of his middle wings to spread enough to soften his landing, but then he let all six hang limply after he was on his feet. He didn’t know why he had bothered going in to try to catch Smajor; he had fought him before when they were both gravitals, and Smajor had done whatever he could to make Sausage miserable, along with attempting to slash his throat toward the end.

Maybe Myth was right.

Smajor lay in a crooked sprawl against the side of the meteorite. From the looks of things, it might take a little longer than the earlier stabbing for him to revive. Sausage wasn’t sure what to do with him this time. It wasn’t like he could purify his soul or… anything, really. Was there even anywhere safe he could put him? Because it seemed like the only option was to go back up to the surface, and it wasn’t like Sausage could deposit him somewhere else in the world and ask him to go live a peaceful life without trying to get revenge on Myth for, well, everything, all over again.

Sausage sat down, leaning on the other side of the meteorite to try to think while keeping a feathery ear out for when Smajor revived. Yet not two seconds later he realized with resignation that the safest thing would be to secure Smajor before he woke up. Sausage doubted he would have anything constructive to offer.

By the time he got back over to Smajor, the regenerative magic of the world had knitted him back together to a point where Sausage could pick him up without a leg hanging oddly; his ribcage wasn’t doing so well, however. The seraph tried not to think about how this could just as easily be his Scott, roughed up and grimy… with an arm guard identical to his own but severely damaged, countless lines grouped by five scratched into the metal.

Not countless, he corrected himself. One hundred and three. Or one hundred and five now, he supposed.

Sausage made his way through the sculk-filled passageway. He surveyed the destruction within and set Smajor down on the floor, hoping he stayed unconscious a little longer. He studied the iron door, then drew out his sword and focused on making the flames burn hotter. He made short work of the remaining hinge, then pulled the buckled metal out of the way. He carried Smajor into the cell. He sighed at the futility and placed him on the bed.

What to do about the open doorway, though…

Sausage took a quick look around outside. Under the table was a well-camouflaged black shulker box with sculk vein all over it. He grimaced but pulled enough of the pulsating substance off to get the box open. Inside were a dozen keys, a diamond pickaxe, and ten pieces of obsidian.

Well, two would do.

He gave another resigned look at Smajor before placing the first block in front of the cell doorway rather than directly inside it. He would let Myth worry about uncovering him later.

Smajor suddenly bolted up and lunged at the doorway, shoving his right arm in the way of the block Sausage had been about to place. “Don’t cut me off from everything!” he protested, then coughed, which resulted in a bit of blood flecking the corner of his mouth. “Leave me a little window or something, so I can at least see Myth coming when he comes back down here to murder me again!”

Sausage gazed back at him with an empty expression, then said softly, “Maybe don’t give him a reason to.”

“You saw what he did up there! I wasn’t even moving!”

Sausage began to lower the second piece of obsidian. “I can’t do anything to help you. All I can do is put things back in their place.”

Smajor tried to fake a hurt look, but then his face hardened. He slid his arm back and clutched the arm guard. He glanced from it to the one that Sausage wore, but said nothing else.

The seraph sighed; well, at least he had moved his arm out of the way and didn’t try to keep Sausage stuck there in some moral quandary of whether or not to drop the obsidian on him to finishing sealing him in.

He turned away with another sigh. As he exited the passageway and had the moonlight to see by, he pulled one of his wings forward to look at the ichor-damaged feathers. He plucked out one that was almost fully gray and turned it over in his hand. It didn’t look like a stain that could be washed off, and the healing light hadn’t fixed them, either. He would have to hope they molted over time. Until then, maybe they would be a reminder of Myth’s words.

He directed his healing ability to the slash on his middle wing so he could fly out of the pit again.

Myth was finding it to be a lot harder to fight Scott. There was less surface area to strike at – no extra appendages, and at times it seemed the starborne’s limbs were only made of ethereal light that his blade passed right through before Scott twisted to strike back at him. There was now red mixing with the black from cuts on the cursed angel’s wings; Scott wasn’t pulling punches, whereas Sausage had been distracted by trying to talk things out.

Finally, Myth resorted to sweeping his wings to carry him backward away from Scott. He then threw his middle ones upward to cover the area over his head against another star strike.

Scott held his free hand up with a sphere of light on his palm again to keep that threat hanging over the cursed angel. “So, where does it end, Myth? When do you consider the never-ending cycle of revenge to be over? How much more hate and death do you want to have weighing on your soul? You don’t want me to repeat things, but I know very well how past failings over even just nine lives can keep someone from their true potential.”

“Potential? Have you been paying attention? O p p o s i t e s. We weren’t meant for this chivalry and glory that you two have! You achieved it, so someone else wasn’t supposed to! Our lives were sacrificed for yours! Now take that guilt and shove it up your pretentious, sparkly—”

At that moment Sausage soared up out of the pit and flew over Myth’s head, almost grazing the upheld wings, but went on to land next to Scott. He put a hand on Scott’s arm and made him lower it. “We’re going.”

“Saus—what? Going where?” Scott shot him a bewildered look before returning a watchful gaze to Myth in case the cursed angel pounced.

“We’re not here to change their fates.” He tugged on Scott’s arm to pull him away from continuing the fight.

Myth snorted. “Thanks for finally catching on! Just going to walk away, then? No last speech to tell me if I believe in myself enough, I’ll become pretty and shiny, too?”

“No,” Sausage called back over his shoulder. “I’m done talking. You’ve reminded me that I once heard someone say ‘No one can save all the world, but we should save who we can.’ You don’t want to be saved, so I’ll find someone who does.”

“Yeah?” Myth clenched his teeth then shouted, “And you DIDN’T HAVE TO COME REMIND ME THAT ANY HOPE WAS OUT THERE!”

Sausage turned his face away from him and instead scooped Scott up in his arms to wash off the memory of having so recently held Smajor the same way. Scott didn’t question it; Sausage didn’t seem about to give a destination, and Scott wasn’t going to go bounding off without knowing where they were headed, first. He draped his arms around Sausage’s neck as the seraph flapped his wings to take off. He didn’t bother to even just circle the pit one last time, only flew off in a vaguely eastern direction. He held Scott tightly against him.

Myth stared after them but didn’t pursue. “Gone, just like that?” He spat out the words. “Where do they even think they’re going? Would they actually go through the limbo dimension again?” He then looked directly up and raised the point of his sword to threaten an invisible adversary. “And to what end was this all really for?! You can’t just let me lie in the dark in peace?! You know there is no hope left here! Or was this meant as a wake up call for them? Why would they need the reminder? They’ve got their happy ever after! They didn’t have the misery of a hundred lifetimes! They—”

Myth stopped. Only ten. Their doubles only had to go through ten lives.

…Had Scott been right?

~*~

“What are you looking for?” Scott asked softly when he noticed Sausage had begun scanning along the horizon.

“Anything familiar,” Sausage murmured, his tone bleak.

Scott chanced a look at the ground. There were a few scattered structures, but everything appeared to be closed up against the night. Zombies wandered here and there, but the two of them were high enough that they didn’t draw the attention of any regular monsters which might have been out.

When Sausage banked to start following a river, Scott realized what he might be looking for. He gently hugged the seraph’s neck in silent solidarity. Then he started keeping an eye out, as well.

However, they both remembered what Myth had said way back in the labyrinth about things being destroyed in this world.

“There.” Scott pointed to an overgrown mountaintop with a crumbling stone staircase cut into the side that led up from the river. The dock was nonexistent. He patted Sausage’s shoulder then shifted into his starlight form to take flight on his own, arcing down out of the seraph’s arms to land on the ground while Sausage made a loop around the area to have a more thorough look.

There were a lot fewer buildings than in their version of Heaven’s Reach, and certainly no scenic gardens or ponds. The church seemed to have been reduced to a crumbling foundation, whereas the rest had only fallen into disrepair. Sausage landed in the rampant tall grass beside where the door would have been.

He sighed as Scott walked over. “I thought maybe we could reach Pearl – our Pearl, I guess? – if we could find this world’s Heaven’s Reach. But I guess it got destroyed like everything else, thanks to those two.” He looked around, despair back in his voice. “I don’t even see any sunflowers growing around it. How did things go so wrong here?”

Scott debated telling him what Myth had said about fated opposites. “Maybe unlike you, he got cut off from his Pearl when he arrived here, and… forgot much faster, or gave up more easily. You shook off that first death pretty quickly, you know? From what Myth said, it seemed the… situation dragged out for too long. And then it escalated into back-and-forth revenge, where we just kind of… moved on, and… you didn’t resent the fact that I became an angel. You and I went down one path, they went down the opposite. I don’t know if that fact itself was destined to happen, but Myth seemed to think so.”

“Hmm,” Sausage agreed listlessly. He stood there for a moment, seeming to be lost in thought, then he headed for the remains of the cemetery. It was equally overgrown, but there was something odd about one of the back corners – starting with an old, dead sunflower.

He hadn’t noticed it at first since its stalk blended in with the rest of the yellowed grass, and its head was bowed with only shriveled, dull petals left clinging to it that he only now saw as he approached. Scott followed him, curious.

There were objects strewn under the lanky, dry grass. Some had begun to disintegrate, clearly made of materials not meant to be left out in the elements long term. But the ones made of metal, or fired clay…

Sausage uttered a mournful whimper as he knelt to pick up a terracotta figurine that very much resembled himself with only one pair of wings. He glanced at the headstone. The carving was weathered but the shape of a sunflower with sun rays around it were still visible. He set down the figurine. “Well… he was remembered for starting out like me. I assume this means he was kind and helpful at one point.”

Scott rested a hand on the seraph’s shoulder. “It wasn’t a pleasant route, but he sort of ended up protecting the rest of the world from a me who didn’t learn that darkness wasn’t the only path to follow.”

“And here we are, all bright and shining.” Sausage cast a glance over the items, then plucked one made of gold out of the grass. He was about to comment when they heard a sort of crystalline tinkling noise, followed by the reversed sound of shattering glass.

A pale glow fell upon them from the middle of the cemetery. Sausage gave a cry of relief and put down the gold figurine, then grabbed Scott’s hand as he stood up. Scott smiled, as well, and they both gazed through the Aether portal that had appeared, seeing the familiar sight of the royal gazebo in Pearl’s realm. Sausage stopped just short of entering it, however, and squeezed Scott’s hand to stop him from going through. “What if it isn’t ours? What if it’s a parallel version?”

His doubts were set aside as Pearl stepped into view, a tearful look of relief on her face as she held out her arms and, even though they couldn’t hear her, she was obviously saying the words, ‘My boys!’

Sausage’s heart soared and he hurried through, still holding tight to Scott.

The portal shuddered behind them, then imploded in on itself, although from their side it merely winked out of existence. They were too busy being engulfed in a goddess-sized hug to notice.

“There you two are! Where have you been? I couldn’t find you anywhere! How in the world did you end up back in the mortal realm?”

Sausage drew back from her embrace. “Wait, you didn’t send us?? Like you did with that floran project??”

Pearl looked at him with confusion. “No? I had no idea you were even gone until you didn’t answer when I tried to summon you! I was looking all over but there was no sign of either of you! What happened?”

Scott gave a somewhat pained smile. “Pearl, do you remember ever losing track of Sausage before in the other world, around the time he was a gravital? We took a little trip through a limbo dimension and met an… interesting pair of people…”

~*~

When Myth broke through the top piece of obsidian covering the cell doorway, he found Smajor scratching at the arm guard with a sharp chip of deepslate that had been part of the debris from earlier. The cursed angel eyed him warily.

Smajor merely held up the arm guard to show him what he had been doing. “I’m adding the count for you. Had to finish off that last set of tallies, huh?” He grinned.

Myth wasn’t amused. “I need to put a new door on, so get ready for number one hundred and six.”

“How about I just sit here and behave, and we not do the stabbing. Here! I’ll even do this…” Smajor gingerly set the arm guard down in the middle of the floor along with the slate chip – then he pushed the small pile of other bits of debris that he had gathered next to it. Lastly, he nudged the clock over as well to show he had nothing else at his disposal. Then he sat down on the bed with his hands pinned under his legs. “There, see? I’ll be good.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Smajor shrugged and looked off to the side with a blank expression. Myth watched him for a few seconds, then worked on removing the second one. Smajor heard him throw down the pickaxe as soon as the block was out of the way, and looked over to see him pointing his sword into the cell. He uttered an exasperated noise. “Hey, Myth? Maybe I’m TIRED OF DYING. So just put the stupid door on and we’ll go back to what we were doing before. You want to stay stuck in this dark chamber forever? Then fine, we’ll do that.”

“Actually, this is temporary, now that there’s a giant hole to the surface directly outside and some other idiots could stumble in here at any moment. But since you want to stay alive, you get a new door until I figure out where to go.”

“Oh, very good point. Wouldn’t want to start adding anyone else to your body count. Or was it only your double that you wanted to see dead? Bit of a reflection you weren’t happy to look into, hmm?”

“How about you also sit silently before I change my mind about killing you again.”

Smajor adjusted his legs while smiling, keeping his hands where they were. Who needed a physical weapon when he had delicious irony as a means of pouring salt into wounds?

~*~

Later, when she was alone, Pearl paced around the perimeter of the gazebo, her mind abuzz with thoughts of parallel versions of people. She stopped at one point to wave a hand over the reflecting pool, bringing up a sepia-tone vision of a world from the past.

She watched it for a moment, then let out a distressed sigh and began to pace around again, hands clasped tightly behind her back.

An unfamiliar voice called out from the direction of the pool. “Goddess PearlescentMoon, we need to have words with you.”

Pearl froze, then pivoted on her heel. Rising out of the pool was a bipedal figure made of jittering static. When they fully emerged, they stepped onto the floor, remaining indistinguishable, although Pearl thought she could make out the shape of a pair of closed eyes. “Well, that’s quite an entrance,” she said stiffly. “But – I’m sorry? Who are you?”

“We are one of the higher deities, responsible for matters of the spirit which are involved with all living things. That includes souls. You have something to answer for…”

Behind them, the pool returned to the image of the sepia-washed world just as a figure with a crown of red and gold stepped into view.

~ The End ~

#alsmp #alsmp fanfic #alsmpshipping #mythicalsausage #scott smajor #this AU is purely self indulgent at this point sorry #soul liminality #soul liminality 2 #actual!angel!sausage #starborne!scott #goddess!pearlescentmoon #lunar yarns #look I found some spoons!

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bleachbleachbleach · 2 years

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Anniversary question!: how do you think soul society deals with disabilities (ie Tousen being blind or Kukaku missing an arm)? Is there a soul society ADA? What does it even mean for a soul to be disabled, and does it remain when they reincarnate?

I’m going to go ahead and broaden this from the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) to talk about whether or not Soul Society is likely to think equitably/accessibly about disability.

Short answer: There can be no true disability justice when a society is structurally indebted to rule by war, genocide, and the uneven distribution of power.

But when has B3 ever left anything short? These are pretty unformed thoughts with lots of room for further consideration/greater nuance, but I’ve taken this ask as an invitation to do at least that first step.

13 Thoughts On Disability and the Gotei 13

(8 things that are garbage, and 5 with potential)

8 Things That are Garbage:

Authoritarian power structure

Narrow definitions of "valuable" expertise and experience

Disempowerment of minoritized communities

Pervasive culture of silence

Unsustainable work hours

Shitty meeting formats

Unimodal presentation style

Refusal to anticipate needs

5 Things with Potential:

Big doors

(Relative) openness to different ways of being

Plurality of care options (sort of)

Well-adjusted sense of liminality

Communities of care

8 Things That are Garbage

1. Authoritarian power structure: The nobility, the Gotei 13, and the Central 46 all exercise power in Soul Society, but for the average Joe Soul, rule by any of these entities is probably about the same—at the end of the day, it’s rule by the powerful. Authoritarian power tends to stigmatize difference, casting it as deviation, infidelity, and possibly ineptitude. The societies that authoritarian power produces then systematically benefit those in positions of power and their ability to stay in power (which tends to be at odds with sharing power, resources, expertise, time, etc. with those deemed different that therefore "marginal"). Examples: Execution being the penalty for Hollowfication/infection they didn’t even want. Execution also being the penalty for losing/lending one’s shinigami powers. The Den of Maggots existing.

2. Narrow definitions of "valuable" expertise and experience: There are a few ways to become a captain, and each captain does tend to have their own special expertises, but the roster is not deep, and there are not many other ways to be upwardly mobile in Soul Society. Kaidou and kidou are *barely* honored as valuable skillsets, and that’s still just "shinigami stuff." This definition of what is/isn’t valuable lends itself to uphold the aforementioned authoritarian power structure, rather than actively seeking out different skills—of even non-skill-based ways of being—that might be valued.

3. Disempowerment of minoritized communities: I think the disabled population in even just the Gotei is minoritized, but I seriously doubt they are mathematically a minority. Untreated PTSD, anxiety, and depression are probably rampant (without the possibility of being diagnosed, since they lack that expertise), and the people who die of illness just die "of illness." Who knows what that is, or in what ways they may have been able to live longer or better. Shinigami probably have all kinds of weird things going on that they don’t take to the 4th, or that the 4th doesn’t have the capacity (either labor or knowledge) to handle effectively.

4. Pervasive culture of silence: If you don’t talk about it disability, then it doesn’t exist! Physical and mental illness, injury, body difference, neurodivergence, trauma… Heck, Aizen nearly destroyed them all and all the SC said was that the Aizen photobook would be out of print and several captains’ columns would be... "on hiatus."

5. Unsustainable work hours: Shinigami are literally defined by the work they do. Reaping is their *purpose.* Forget a 4-day work week and <8-hour days. There’s probably not even a Shinigami Golden Week. And are captains ever not on duty, or at the very least, on call? Why is there no way to retire from the Gotei outside of death, banishment, imprisonment, being Kuchiki Ginrei, or whipping up a baller business proposal for a glasses shop? How does this culture (de-)value shinigami whose bodies cannot do this, or no longer desire to ask this of their bodies? What services to they offer to shinigami who (by their estimate) can no longer sustain an unsustainable practice (but can according to the needs of the Gotei)? THE DEN OF MAGGOTS?

6. Shitty meeting formats: To get less philosophical, you literally have to stand in two straight rows for sustained periods of time during a captain’s meeting. There’s no sitting, no vocalizing out of turn. You need to stim? That’d be a hard no. No backthroom breaks, either. When Ukitake is too ill, he doesn’t go and isn’t technically penalized, but he also doesn’t get a not-seat at the not-table. He doesn’t get the info, and doesn’t get a vote. (Or a chance to advocate his positions. Maybe no one gets a "vote," lol.)

[Chapter 081]

What might an accessible Captain’s Meeting look like instead?

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Imagine:

Yamamoto opens with a quick check-in. This acknowledges the personhood of everyone in the room, even if the goal of the meeting is to assign labor. It also opens the flood to all voices, setting the tone for a meeting that is intended to be dialogic rather than unidirectional/top-down.

He reminds everyone of their Community Agreements, which might include asking questions before acting on assumptions, naming perceived tensions in themselves or between others, or remembering to consider the positionalities from which everyone might be speaking. Yamamoto also invites people to move and use the room as needed to make themselves comfortable in the space.

Yamamoto’s role may be one of facilitator rather than sole speaker; the agenda has likely been set via group inputs, and different captains will have taken responsibility for different elements of the meeting to share these responsibilities/powers. He may see his role as Captain Commander as supporter rather than governor. What can he do to support the other Captains, identify potential collaborations, or share resources? How can captains correspondingly act in the same way for their devisions?

Not only are the captains in attendance, but there are probably representatives from other walks of Soul Society there as well, with either deliberative or voting power. Rukongai district reps, unseated officer reps, Seireitei civilian rep, Academy instructor rep… There may be issues-based reps for a given cycle, like from the SWA or the Shinigami Healing Circles committee.

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7. Unimodal presentation style: Yamamoto certainly isn’t breaking out the PowerPoint or using voice magnification to accommodate anyone with an auditory processing disorder. And if he did, he wouldn’t incorporate visual descriptions into his talk for the visually impaired. (And Hitsugaya probably can’t see shit from where he’s standing, sighted or not!)

If Yamamoto woke up one day and decided to run a Captain’s Meeting like this, it would not go well. They would all hate it, and nothing would get done. There might be a body count. But I think that what that speaks to, really, is the fact that they’ve been living within structures that have refused these possibilities entirely, and that they would have to do real, hard work to unlearn that.

These may also seem like very broad practices. What does this have to do with disability? There are two primary models of disability: medical and social. In the medical model, disability is to be cured or managed. In the social model, "problem" of disability exists in a society’s failure to serve someone’s needs. Which leads us to—

8. Refusal to Anticipate Needs: Any time a Captain’s Meeting gets called, it’s in reaction to something potentially deleterious to Soul Society as we know it. This is probably true all the way down, in the sense that the Gotei 13 tends not to anticipate needs. A village has to disappear, or someone has to die first. (Possibly a cultural effect of focusing on afterlives/afterwards.) But if you’re waiting for someone to tell you what is needed, then you’re reacting to a lack of something rather than try to build a reality that has accounted for that issue in the first place.

5 Things with Potential

1. The doors to the Captain’s Meeting Room are very ADA-complaint.

[Chapter -108]

They are very wide, to accommodate for wheelchair users, and also open automatically, without the need for people to physically push them. (Except there aren’t wheelchairs, because THERE AREN’T WHEELS.) If you trust B3 enough to read this long textpost, then it probably does not surprise you that I have a folder filled with nothing but pictures of Soul Society’s doors, and I honestly think the 4th might be larger than other divisions’ doors. Maybe to accommodate for their diversity of guests?

2. The Gotei 13 seems reasonably open to different ways of being in the world, whether you are blind, deaf, chronically/terminally ill, or are a wolf. No one actually cared that Komamura was a wolf under that helmet, but he seemed concerned that they might, and I doubt he’d be concerned without justification. Ukitake also continues to be well-respected and isn’t asked to not be a Captain because he’s sick (even though it does actually change the ways he is able to do his job, and sometimes is acutely detrimental to being able to do that job well). No one ever seems to think Tousen or Atau wouldn’t be able to do their jobs because of their disabilities, but 1) that sentence again suggests that their ability to work is the most important thing here, 2) there are probably entire communities of deaf and blind people in Soul Society who aren’t "thriving" in Soul Society, either by labor-based or more personal measures, and 3) I don’t know that Tousen actually received accommodations for being blind, or that any of his colleagues actively thought about what practices might not serve him. The city is already unnavigable, and so much about people’s ranks/identities are tendered visually.

3. The fact that both the 4th and 12th both exist. What would the 12th possibly add to this? you might ask. They are creepy and weird. They ARE creepy and weird, but shinigami other than Mayuri do work there, and tbh despite the fact that Mayuri is objectively terrible, he probably also has relatively more progressive views on disability and body politics than many of his colleagues. But what I really mean goes back to the medical and social models of disability. For the most part, the 4th cures stuff. It tries to put you back the way you were. The 12th does, too, if you need some limbs back. But it’s more complex than that in both these places, probably, and I think the fact that neither have a pure monopoly on what medical care "should" look like, or what its goals should be, is ultimately good for the quality of medical care overall. (And probably pushes the 4th to continually improve the quality of its care and the ways care/health/illness might be conceived, either by acknowledging a valid perspective from the 12th or descrying something from the 12th as utter horseshit and vowing to be better.) It requires the 4th to have a care philosophy, and actively think about what they want that to be.

4. Given their line of work, both in terms of its focus on death and its hazardousness, I think shinigami probably have a better relationship to liminal states of being than most humans do. By that I mean they’re probably more on board with the idea that their bodies, in the state that they presently exist, are temporary. These bodies will change; their functions and abilities will change.

Even though their lifespans may be way longer and the aging process less acute, and their whole real really being about stasis, I think this is one thing they do understand and accept: If you are not sick yet, you will be. If you are not hurt yet, you will be. There’s a dark edge to that, sure—in the sense that the Gotei really does not care if you live or die, or what your quality of life is. But it doesn’t have to be entirely fire and brimstone. A lot of that fire and brimstone feeling probably comes from systematic ableism in the first place. You can live the best and happiest most cared-for life and it will still be true that your body and mind (or bodymind) will change in ways that are difficult, painful, or make certain things no longer possible.

5. There are a lot of shinigami in Soul Society who will go to absolute town for each other. In spite of all the things working against this possibility, communities of care persist. This can be a problem sometimes when it comes to exercising boundaries and practicing self-care (you can’t help someone else if you’re killing yourself in the process), but ultimately, you have to care. You have to be able to assume that you care and the people around you care.

And if there is one thing that the Gotei 13 has going for it, it’s that a lot of them really, really care.

#i had to format this twice because tumblr ate it ToT #joke's on me for trusting tumblr with so much as a stick #bleach headcanons #shinigamiology #b3's b3 #no brain just bleach

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lightsonparkave · 3 years

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HAPPY TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO LIGHTS ON PARK AVE! 🎂🎉 In celebration of LoPA’s birthday (August 22, to be exact), all of the prompts from the previous year are up for grabs.

Round 24 will end on August 31, 11:59 PM ET (what time is that for me?).

As always, you’re free to jump in whenever you’d like during the round, a wide variety of work types is accepted, and there are no minimum work requirements. Unfinished works and works for other fandom events are allowed. You can find more information about Lights on Park Ave and the participation guidelines here.

Here are all 149 prompts. Go crazy and have fun! 🎈

ROUND 13: TIME

A quote about being infinite in the present moment from The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“Vellichor,” the the strange wistfulness of used bookstores

“How long is forever?” dialogue from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

“Time” - Hans Zimmer (Inception OST)

A quote and gifset from Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival (2016) about the nonlinear structure of time

Agnès Varda’s portraits when she was 20, 36, and 80 years old

A John Irving quote about what time does to the people who matter to us

Ten traveling back to see Rose on New Year’s Day in 2005 before he dies and reincarnates in Doctor Who

Future inventions in 2015 as seen in Robert Zemeckis’s Back to the Future Part II (1989)

A quote about what time does for wounds

ROUND 14: LIMINALITY

A photoset of various liminal spaces

Illustration of a black cat in front of a red-lit house with the caption, “They say no one is living here—but the lights come on, once every year”

A photoset of Victorian-era spirit photography, an art form that attempted to capture the ghost of a deceased loved one

Information on the famous Mojave phone booth, a lone telephone booth in the middle of the desert that received calls from all over the world

Rosemary Ellen Guiley’s The Encyclopedia of Ghosts and Spirits Third Edition’s definition of “witching hour”

Illustration of a ghost train on an abandoned trestle bridge in the Pacific Northwest

A quote by Isabel Allende about spirits coming out at night in the library

Gifset of the spirit world in Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away (2001)

Illustration of a neon roadside sign of a motel that only appears at night by a long-forgotten highway

“Pacific Coast Highway” - Kavinsky

A gifset quote from The Twilight Zone (1959)

Scenery from Twin Peaks season 1 (1990)

A quote about something shifting into a strange, new place inside of a person from Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado

ROUND 15: LOSS

A quote about being lost and found by someone special by Sue Zhao

A photo of the Mildred, wrecked off Gurnard’s Head, Cornwall in 1912

A quote about ephemerality and the beauty of it from Troy (2004)

Two paintings of people visiting ruins by Caspar David Friedrich

A quote about desire and loss by Lara Mimosa Montes

A photo of an overgrown, abandoned conservatory

A passage about what disappears and what remains in ruins from Suicide by Édouard Levé

Dialogue about gratitude for people who aren’t meant to stay in your life but shape who you are from BoJack Horseman

A scene from Fleabag where the Priest chooses God over Fleabag and gently tells Fleabag that her love for him will pass before they part ways

A prayer to St. Anthony, patron saint of lost things, people, and souls

Oscar Wilde’s tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery, Paris, covered in lipstick kisses from admirers

Photos of a cemetery statue in Austria, wrapped in branches and dead leaves, holding a single flower

ROUND 16: DEVOTION/SERVICE

A gifset of Kevin on the phone, telling Chiron he’ll cook food for him from Barry Jenkin’s Moonlight (2016)

Buttercup’s monologue to Westley about how she would do anything for him from The Princess Bride by William Goldman

Gifs of Merlin saying that he was born to serve Arthur from BBC’s Merlin

An excerpt about giving all of oneself to someone despite what it costs from House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

A gifset of various times Jaime and Brienne demonstrate their loyalty to and love for each other in Game of Thrones

A gifset of all the different ways Cliff is there for Rick in Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019)

A gifset of Nadia deciding to be by Alan’s side no matter what in Russian Doll

“Devotion” - Ocean Vuong

A gifset of Bond comforting a traumatized Vesper in the shower in Casino Royale (2006)

A gifset of Sookhee refusing to leave Hideko, saying her job is to look after her in Park Chanwook’s The Handmaiden (2016)

ROUND 17: DREAMS

A dreamscape gifset and quote about repressed thoughts in dreams and the Internet from Satoshi Kon’s Paprika (2006)

A gifset of Mitsuha and Taki finally meeting in their own bodies in a dream from Shinkai Makoto’s Kimi no Na wa (Your Name) (2016)

A quote by Tinker Bell telling Peter Pan where he can find her and where she’ll always love him in Steven Spielberg’s Hook (1991)

The scene where Keating tells his students that poetry, beauty, romance, and love give life meaning in Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society (1989)

An animated illustration of a storefront called “Hauntings” with a flickering “99¢ dreams” neon sign

Various dreamscape scenes and a quote about ideas being the most resilient parasite from Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010)

A quote about how all living beings must dream to survive reality from The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

A comic about people we love taking turns to visit us in dreams every night

Lovers and Sleeping Couple, two drawings by Egon Schiele

A quote about belief in a better world by Robert Frobisher to his lover, Rufus Sixsmith, in Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell

A quote about the feeling of falling in love lingering when you wake up from a dream in Alexis Dos Santos’s Unmade Beds (2009)

A photo of subway graffiti by an unknown author insisting that they’ll never give up making the world a better place to live in

ROUND 18: PHYSICAL TOUCH

A scene about how to return a stolen kiss from Daniel Ribeiro’s The Way He Looks (2014)

A line about kissing someone the way a flower opens from “I Know Someone” by Mary Oliver

A gifset focusing on showing affection and care through hands from Park Chanwook’s The Handmaiden (2016)

A passage about two people leaving invisible marks on each other through the accumulation of touches over the years from A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood

Two conversations about never being touched before and only being touched by one person from Barry Jenkins’s Moonlight (2016)

Going from yearning to touch someone but stopping oneself to being allowed to touch them from Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy

Moving art of two bodies made of stars and the cosmos embracing

A quote about maintaining sanity by touching someone but being separated despite proximity from The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje

A line about proving that one still exists and is real through touch from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

Different touches between Villanelle and Eve expressing violence, threat, sexual tension, comfort, and companionship in Killing Eve

A juxtaposition of two scenes from Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love (2000) of Su Li-zhen rejecting and accepting Chow Mo-wan’s hand

A compilation of marble sculptures by Gian Lorenzo Bernini

Syd (Chris Evans) trailing kisses down London’s back in London (2005)

ROUND 19: IMMORTALITY

James Baldwin talking about how art helps you discover that people before you have experienced the same thing as you and you are not alone

Dr. Brand saying that love transcends time and space in Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar (2014)

Nadia and Alan meeting for the first time as they’re about to die and relive the same day again in Russian Doll

The loneliness of losing everyone by having a long life as expressed by Ten in Doctor Who

The doomed eternal time loop romance of Simon and Alisha from Misfits

A quote by Edvard Munch about becoming eternal through the flowers that grow from his body after death

Nagai Kei recalling the traffic accident that killed him and triggered his immortality, making him one of the rare persecuted humans to possess the power, in Ajin

A collection of moments from Jay Russell’s Tuck Everlasting (2002)

A quote by Mary Wollstonecraft hoping for something that lasts inside the heart

Various scenes with Jack Harkness from Doctor Who

Aya telling Asou-kun to live on and live forever as she nears the end of her life in 1 Litre of Tears

An excerpt about the immortalization of the self through love from “Love of the Wolf” in Hélène Cixous’s Stigmata

A collection of scenes from the Black Mirror episode “San Junipero”

Naoko telling Toru to always remember her and remember that she existed in Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

Dom explaining to Ariadne that he uses the PASIV to dream as it’s the only way that he can be with his wife and children in Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010)

ROUND 20: POETRY

“I’m Going Back to Minnesota Where Sadness Makes Sense” - Danez Smith

A line about wanting to forget how much you loved someone and then actually forgetting from Bluets by Maggie Nelson

“Perhaps the World Ends Here” - Joy Harjo

“In Time” - W. S. Merwin

“By Small and Small: Midnight to Four A.M.” - Jack Gilbert

“Magdalene: The Addict” - Marie Howe

“Wild Geese” - Mary Oliver

“Morphology 2″ - CJ Scruton

“20″ from Moscow in the Plague Year by Marina Tsvetaeva

“To Hold” - Li-Young Lee

ROUND 21: LONGING

“I Loved You Before I Was Born” - Li-Young Lee

A poem about longing for someone through worlds by Izumi Shikibu

A gifset of Marianne and Héloïse falling in love from Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

“Make Me Feel” - Janelle Monáe

A quote about living in longing being better than realizing that longing from 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

“I Want You” - Mitski

Orpheus and Eurydice in Hades - Friedrich Heinrich Füger

Long definition of the word “saudade”

Definition of the word “hiraeth”

“Something About Us” - Daft Punk

Two lines about burning quietly from the poem “The Pillowcase” by Annelyse Gelman

A conversation about wanting each other after decades of separation from Pedro Almodóvar’s Pain and Glory (2019)

A Hanahaki disease mood board

“Shrike” - Hozier

Two lines about wanting someone to return from Herakles by Euripides

“Love of My Life” - Queen

“Eyes, Nose, Lips” - Taeyang

A screenshot of Kathy and Tommy holding onto each other desperately from Mark Romanek’s Never Let Me Go (2010) and a quote from Kazuo Ishiguro’s eponymous novel

ROUND 22: YOUTH

“Perfect Places” - Lorde

A piece about realizing you’ll never be this young again, but it’s the first time you’re this old by Kalyn Roseanne Livernois

A conversation between Neil and Mr. Keating about Neil feeling trapped and unable to live the life he wants because of his father from Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society (1989)

An excerpt about being too young to know how to love properly from Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor” - Arctic Monkeys

Elio’s father telling Elio not to try to rid himself of his sorrow and pain—and with that joy—which he feels so strongly because he’s so young from Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman

A quote about how everything feels final to young people because they’re experiencing it for the first time from Middlemarch by George Eliot

Lara Jean telling Peter that she had to make it seem like she liked him to deal with her love letter fiasco in Susan Johnson’s To All the Boys I Loved Before (2018)

Rue and Jules dancing together and partying it up in Euphoria

“Le Plongeoir” by Laurent Roch

A quote about being pushed into adulthood and not being ready from Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

A photo of a roller rink illuminated by pink and purple lights

Pastel photo series of Coney Island by Mijoo Kim and Minjin Kang

“Hips Don’t Lie” - Shakira feat. Wyclef Jean

“Young Dumb & Broke” - Khalid

Different moments accompanied by the letter to Mr. Vernon at the end of detention from John Hughes’s The Breakfast Club (1985)

Various scenes and a quote about growing up and realizing life isn’t like a fairy tale from Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

Stills of the young lesbian couple in love from the music video of “You Know” - Jaurim

Lines by Effy about her emotional and mental struggles from Skins

Nathan chiding the group for not taking advantage of their superpowers as young offenders from Misfits

ROUND 23: HEDONISM

A passage about giving into passion and losing control from The Secret History by Donna Tartt

“Thot Shit” - Megan Thee Stallion

An aesthetic photoset of the Greek god Dionysus

A quote about living for ecstasy rather than balance from From a Journal of Love by Anaïs Nin

A photo of an anonymous person in nothing but a silk robe and lingerie

A photo of Donatella Versace lounging in a chair, surrounded by shirtless, muscular men sunbathing around her in Capri, Italy in 1994

An aesthetic photoset based on The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The music video for “Heartless” by The Weeknd

A plea for summer to never end from Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman

“Plastic Love” - Mariya Takeuchi

A gifset from the music video of “Blinding Lights” by The Weeknd, a continuation of the “Heartless” music video

“XS” - Rina Sawayama

A gifset from the music video of “Body” by Mino

Photos of people dancing at the legendary Studio 54

Photos and a description of the party scene at Studio 54

Chris Evans and Evan Rachel Wood hooking up in a car in the “Gucci Guilty Black” commercial

#stevetony #steve/tony #superhusbands #stony #stevetony prompts #stony prompts #lightsonparkave #round 24

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hothian-snow · 3 years

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Worldbuilding: Sith Magic (WIP)

An update to my original post.

I want to theorize about what magic may have been commonplace during the times of the Sith Pureblood, before they became influenced by the Dark Jedi. Some beliefs and practice may have evolved into what we know today, but many traditions will have likely died down, lost to time and to cultural colonisation. These are my headcanons, inspired by some headcanons others have made plus my own understanding of traditional witchcraft and Ancient Greek magic.

1) Magic of the Sun

Korriban is one of the original homes of the Sith Pureblood, and presumably the most prominent one. What could be seen the moment you step onto Korriban is the rocky red ending desert and the blistering sun. Magic from many cultures around our world are rooted in the land, and I believe Sith magic should be no different. In this case, their magic will be drawn from the sun, the bones that lie beneath the sands.

In the real world Greek Magical Papyri, a record of Greco-Egyptian magic spells, the sun god Helios is called upon in various rites ranging from consecration to restraining anger to bringing victory. In that same manner, I believe the sun may be called by the Sith to perform magical acts. In a lot of POC traditions, planets are also deified to be gods (something like astrolatry in Thailand etc), and so the Sith - who in my views are POC-coded - may revere the sun as a central religious figure (which makes it ironic that the concept of the Dark Side of the Force was later made to be the enemy of the Light). The sun nourishes, but it also burns. The light allows you to see, but too much can blind. It is the sun’s heat that rot corpses, freeing flesh from bones, rushing forth decomposition. The sun is life and the sun is death.

Just as Ancient Greek witches could be identified as descendants of Helios due to their flashing eyes, it is also possible that the Sith Pureblood may view themselves to be descendants of the sun. After all, their fiery eyes are like two miniature suns and their distinctive red skin are like the blood-red dawn.

2) Magic of the Bones

In many ways, the Force is similar to the real-world belief of animism. Inside everything is something that is alive and powerful. In the bones, buried beneath the sands, are a vault of memories. Through feeding the bones - feeding the spirits within the bones - one can cultivate a relationship with the dead. One can redden the bones with flowers from cactus mixed with drops of blood, or blacken them with roots and soot. Incense smoke can be like food to the soul. This works for both animal and Sith bones.

Once awakened, bones can be your teachers, or used both as an offensive and defensive tool. The empty eye sockets of skulls can be placed in strategic places, eternally watching guard. Fangs and claws can be turned into magical talismans, to protect their masters and shred their enemies to pieces. Bones may whisper their wisdom to you. Learn from the tuk’ata how to protect and defend. Learn from the K’lor’slugs how to poison and strike.

3) Necromancy

With the talks of bones, we cannot avoid the topic of necromancy. In a lot of POC cultures, ancestor veneration plays an integral part of bringing families together. As the Sith Purebloods are POC-coded, and because we have seen in-game that ghosts of ancestors (Lord Kallig) may wish to help their descendants (the Sith Inquisitor), I believe ancestor veneration would have a prominent role in Sith culture. Ancestors may send you dreams for you to be prepared for upcoming threats. Ancestors may work their magic from beyond the grave to influence situations in the living world.

Aside from having a ghost literally show up, transmission of knowledge through dreams is one way that tradition can be passed down, in spite of the Sith Genocide that occured. Children may have been made orphans, but it does not mean that their parents can’t speak through them in an oneiric vision. Texts may have been burnt, cultural artifacts may have been destroyed, but magic prevails. History finds a way to be remembered.

Dream incubation can be used to receive information that would be otherwise unknown. Trances can be used to induce visions from the dead and from higher powers. Ointments made from poisonous herbs, smeared onto the body, can be used to induce the liminal state required for a person to get in touch with the otherworld.

There is also canonical evidence that necromancy was practiced among the Sith before the Dark Jedi colonised them: Dathka Graush, a Sith King of Korriban active in the decades prior to the arrival of the Dark Jedi Exiles in 6900 BBY, was among the earliest practitioners of Sith necromancy. Necromancy can be as dramatic as raising zombies using occult incantations, reanimating the freshly dead and the buried skeletons. However, I also want to go for a different approach.

Inspired by Ancient Greek necromancy, I believe the dead can be split into many types. Perhaps there are the restless dead, like the Greek aōroi, the spirits who could be appeased and channeled to wreak havoc. Perhaps there are the mighty dead, (war) heroes who have been elevated to the point where they are venerated and prayed to for strength and miracles. The dead can be called upon to glean prophecies, and deals can be made with them, pacts sealed in blood. The dead can teach you secrets and grant you powers, and you can send them forth to haunt your enemies until they are maddened. A Sith may ask the ravenous dead to feed upon their enemy, and pray that the power of the tomb claims the rest.

Some parts of the current Sith cultural beliefs may have been influenced by the beliefs of the Sith Pureblood (pre-Dark Jedi arrival), but twisted into a reactionary belief in response to the Jedi code. For example, the Jedi seems to have an accepting attitude towards death (“there is no death, there is only the Force”) while the current Sith seems to wish to overcome death, whether through having a long-lasting legacy or through occult means (like Darth Zash or Emperor Vitiate). This is why a Sith like Darth Marr who are not scared to die are viewed as being terrifying. I believe this culture of immense fear towards death is a new thing.

In my headcanon, the Sith Pureblood originally viewed death as something to respect and fear, but also understood it to be a necessity - and in some cases, a beautiful part of life. Through death, grapes are transformed into wine. There is sacredness in the sweet and cloying rot, a holiness to decay and entropy. Because of this, there may be a field of magic that focuses not just on reanimating corpses, but on hastening (or temporary slowing- with consequences) the way and speed at which something decomposes. Imagine a Sith gripping their enemies with their bare hands, and from that touch comes a death sentence: bodies begin to bloat, festering sickness seeping into muscles and bones, flesh turning necrotic before death consumes them.

4) Potions and Poisons

The art of pharmakeia and veneficium is something that came up in the Sith Inquisitor storyline. Zash makes offhand remarks about poisoning her foes, and the ghost that taught the Sith Inquisitor how to Force Walk requires the Inquisitor to drink a cup of poison first. Poison can both kill and teach. In the real world, many traditional witches who walk the poison path have made allies of their poison plants. In Greek myth and religion, Circe uses potions to transmute men into pigs, and transforms women into monsters by poisoning water with drugs.

Ziost, which became capital of the Ancient Sith Empire after the reign of the Sith Overlord Adas came to an end, was described to be a planet of dark forests and barren tundra. With forests comes plants, and with plants comes poison. Perhaps dirt from graveyards and places of bloodshed can be mixed with foul herbs, along with powdered molts of poison insects, and then infused into oil to be made into a tool for cursing enemies. Should a hair or piece of armor from one’s rival be found, one could powder that and mix the blend into a poppet, enabling a Sith to feed their enemy poison from a distance.

The flipside of poison is medicine. Healers may have been as abundant as poisoners, or perhaps healers were poisoners and poisoners were healers, for the difference between killing and treating is just application and dosage. Potions may also be made to bless and enhance the abilities of someone - something like how stims are used in the current setting - and washes and ritual baths may be used to free someone from unwanted afflictions.

5) Force Lightning

I believe Force lightning has always been used by the Sith Pureblood, but its prestige and popularity only has sky-rocketted once Vitiate became Emperor. Dromund Kaas’ constant lightning and perpetual thunderstorms may have been “a result of the Sith Emperor's experiments in arcane and forbidden uses of the dark side of the Force”. Hence, it may be possible that the usage of Force lightning became a symbol of power due to Vitiate’s influence.

6) Sith Artifacts and Tools

The most well-known artifact of the Sith is the Sith holocron. I am not certain but I believe the oldest Sith holocron may be the Telos Holocron, and one of the earliest contributors to the Telos Holocron was Ajunta Pall who was a Dark Jedi. The holocron’s purpose in storing information and passing down the legacy of a Sith Lord is linked to my view that it is the Dark Jedi who want to be immortalized and are afraid of death, not the original Sith Pureblood. Thus, I infer that the Sith holocrons are made by the Dark Jedi who colonized the Sith, which makes sense considering that it just looks like an alternative version of the Jedi holocron.

However, one clear power of the Sith holocrons is how they are able to ‘corrupt’ its user to the Dark Side. This made me wonder if the Sith Pureblood may have had artifacts and fetishes that served similar purposes in corrupting, influencing and swaying their enemies. If knowledge could be passed down through ghosts and dreams, then there is no need to spend time crafting the perfect holocron and effort could instead be focused upon creating tools of defense and offense.

It would have been very practical to create an artifact out of roots and bones, place it in places of ruin, death and grief such as places of murders, and enchant it to soak in the horrific sympathetic energies of the locales it was placed at until it becomes full, brimming with misery and torment. It could then be buried on the plot of land that a Sith’s enemy lived on, hence bringing suffering to their home and family. Something like that - something folk-ish, something requiring only skill, cunning and determination, not fanciful ceremonial rituals like the ones we see the current Siths doing - is what I believe defined the practice of the original Sith Pureblood.

#sith magic #worldbuilding #swtor #Star Wars The Old Republic

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justanalto · 3 years

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top five repeats! :)

i was tagged by @agentmmayy (playlist royalty!!) to talk about five songs i've got on repeat. thank you ness!!!

1. memphis by joy oladokun

i love, love, love the concept of this song. i love its simplicity and how it builds and how you can't quite capture its complete essence unless joy herself is singing it. there is a depth in there that is completely inaccessible to joy herself, and no shade to it! it just makes me very enviable, lol. i love the lyrics, things like "i can wait a little longer if it means // that love is rising like the dawn to shine on me // i'm runnin' on, life ain't half as long as it seems" are beautiful lines. and i think my favorite thing about it is that i heard joy once say that she loves performing this song because it's like a look back on who she used to be and how far she's come in terms of being in love, and i want that for me too. (stream in defense of my own happiness)

2. central station by may-a

may-a just dropped a new ep i think, so this popped up on my spotify playlist somewhere and honestly idk about the rest of the ep but this slaps with its electric guitar and its dreamy what-if quality. i also know it references grand central station, so now everything is set in this new york vibe, which i love. my favorite line from this song is from the chorus: "everything is falling into place but you" and I just love the way it scoops. it's got that city wanderlust mood, where you see new york city the way it is in the movies, the happy montages with the person you love in a coming-of-age movie. find someone who makes you feel this way, honestly. (i also recommend apricots, it's a heart wrencher)

3. pink pony club by chappell roan

ness recommended this to me actually so shout out!!! i love chappell roan's voice so much -- it reminds me of something deep combined with something elizabeth gillies, the range of it. there's also something in the yearning to escape that hits so well, i listened to one of her other songs -- california -- and this has that same type. only this is the kind you dance to in the middle of the night when no one's looking. bonus points if you can imagine that there's a disco ball gently shimmering around you. this is the one you lose yourself in and think about absolutely nothing for four minutes.

4. i loved you first by joan

now this -- this is the kind of song that's got you staring at the ceiling of your bedroom when it's a liminal hour in the morning, pondering everything that's going on in your life and what your role is in it. makes you wonder about all the people you love and whether you're doing it right. either that or it's a night in the city (nyc, fifth avenue outside the met, specifically) and you're sitting watching the cars rush by deep in thought. either way, i've just been doing a lot of spaced thinking and this song really lets me do that. the end always brings you to a conclusion, too, but it's not always a happy one. (there's been a lot to figure out in life lmaooo)

5. dancing in the kitchen by lany

every year in july and august (i'll do it until i can do it again) i get sentimental about going to la because those were just such significant visits for me. i loved them so much. but this has the floaty vibes of one of my favorite places (so far), aka a sunset on santa monica beach, walking along the boardwalk without having to care about a single goddamn thing. there's a lot of la vibes i have in songs tbh, and all of them encompass different moods and experiences, but this happened to be the most recent one. it's also just such a homey vibe: dancing in the kitchen, carefree, with someone you love. i want that.

honorable mention: one hundred times a day by emmy rouge

i'm trying to transpose this into a different guitar key which is why i keep playing it but also i'm literally obsessed with the little country twang i keep hearing in the lyrics and it is killing me. the head voice transition. the violin. that crisp lower range. (ok it's not actually that low but.) the entire bridge: "i cannot be your soulmate 'cause i cannot find my soul // i go to dance on weekends to prove i'm not alone". really i'm just a sucker for all of their songs, mostly. tldr i'm a simp is all it is actually

tagging: @sad-tunes @gnatromanoff @missinglittlebritishfriend @would-die-for-fitzsimmons @maybebrilliant @browneyedgenius @the9muses @ohwriteiforgot @book-and-music-lover and any other music friends out there!! :)

#tag things #agentmmayy #music things

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toho-literature · 4 years

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Perfect Memento in Strict Sense: Pages 84-86 - Yuyuko Saigyouji

Dreaming Ghost

Yuyuko Saigyouji

Ability: Manipulation of death

Threat level: Very high

Human friendship level: High

Main place of activity: Netherworld

The mistress of the Saigyouji family who resides at Hakugyokurou in the Netherworld.

It is said that she died over 1000 years ago, so she is a ghost with an abnormally long lifespan (*1).

Impressed by her unwillingness to hold grudges and her ability to control spirits, she was appointed by the Yama to manage the souls of the dead.

In return, she was permitted eternal residence in the Netherworld.

Her appearance is no different from those of humans.

It is said that the color of her skin and hair is paler than when she was alive.

As her body is sealed away within Hakugyokurou, it is said to be impossible to hold a burial ceremony for her.

Thus, she will live (*2) eternally in the form of a ghost.

Her personality is so extraordinarily carefree that it is said she doesn't remember how long she's been in the Netherworld.

It seems she doesn't even remember what she had for breakfast (*3).

Ability

The ability to manipulate death means just as it says, the ability to kill someone with no resistance.

Once they're dead, she would be able to control their spirit as well.

Nothing good can come out of challenging her.

Anecdotes About This Youkai

The Cherry Tree Called Saigyou Ayakashi

Her father was a widely adored poet, and eventually fell into eternal rest beneath a cherry tree as he wished.

His adoration continued after his death, and now he has ascended into heaven as a god.

Every year some grand personage would die beneath that tree when it was in full bloom, just like Yuyuko's father.

The tree continued to absorb their blood. It turned into a youkai cherry tree with the ability to lure people to their death, and it came to be called the Saigyou Ayakashi.

It is said that the Saigyou Ayakashi is now kept in Hakugyokurou in the Netherworld, sealed with the bodies of countless people, including Yuyuko, who sleep beneath it.

For this reason, it never reaches full bloom.

Phantom Emigration Project

This is a story of twenty or thirty years ago.

The number of phantoms in the Netherworld increased due to limits on ascension (*4).

Gradually, the already-vast Netherworld was becoming overcrowded, so she allowed them to inhabit various places (*5) in the world of the living as they were waiting to reincarnate.

The places she chose included closed schools and hospitals, abandoned buildings, and places people don't usually visit, but some curious person on the outside caught sight of one of the phantoms, so people started flocking to these places (*6).

Eventually, the Yama became aware of this plan and decreed that phantoms shouldn't be seen, so it was put to rest.

Finally, the Yama increased the size of the Netherworld, thereby removing the necessity for the emigration plan.

It's said that the Netherworld today is larger than Hell.

Eyewitness Reports

"Hmm, maybe I should check out the Netherworld for the flower-viewin' party this year, too..." (Marisa Kirisame)

The flowers in the Netherworld are extremely popular even among the living.

"Cleaning up a place with that much space would be awful. Still, it must be nice." (Reimu Hakurei)

It seems the housework is left to the phantoms.

Countermeasures

First of all, you will likely not meet her under normal circumstances.

She stays in the Netherworld most of the time, and if she has business in Gensokyo, she usually has one of the phantoms go in her stead.

However, there is one exception.

You can speak with her after your death.

Normally when you die, after you travel down the Road of Liminality, cross the Sanzu river, and receive the judgement of the ten kings at Higan, even if you've done no wrong, you go to the Netherworld and await reincarnation or enlightenment.

You will definitely see her there.

Surely something dreadful will await you if you manage to incur her wrath.

She will command her servant Konpaku to sever the circle of transmigration with her sword, and if she sends you back to Higan, you'd surely be sent to Hell.

It's probably best to read about her before you die.

*1: "Lifespan"?

*2: "Live"?

*3: Perhaps senility is setting in.

*4: As the heavens receive all those who have broken from the circle of transmigration, they've reached their capacity.

*5: Including the outside world.

*6: People like mysterious places.

#you heard it here folks: yuyuko's senile #touhou pmiss #perfect memento in strict sense #touhou #touhou project #project shrine maiden #yuyuko saigyouji #saigyouji yuyuko

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omegasmileyface · 3 years

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here i spent an hour writing this in my notes app. i DESPERATELY hope it makes sense

hc that for halfas since they are always living-growing, obsessions can build on themselves. the root of an obsession in the first place is essentially what a person would lose if they died. the thing that they're missing out on by dying, that they become ghosts in an attempt to try not to miss out on. so i imagine it's formed by an incredibly high emotional burst of being in the middle of dying and your thoughts going "NO! I can't die yet, i have to ___" and so whatever causes that emotional burst is ingrained into the human emotional crystal structure (which I've talked about before) of the core.

SO. the role of an obsession is to bind the core into a stable form. SO!! for liminals the obsession organizes their ghost form and *leads / paints the thoughts had through their core*. id like to say that at least by default, all thoughts had by half-ghosts go through both the brain and the core separately and them 1 input produces 2 outputs but that doesn't make any goddamn sense within canon. I would say that each output is then used as an input in the other, recursively until they reach the same output as a compromise, but that's ridiculously inefficient. SO INSTEAD id say all thoughts are created in the primary consciousness center and then run as input through whichever is secondary and then that output is felt but not in control. so like, if you were in human form and not actively focusing on your core, and your obsession was with... eating strawberries. If you saw a strawberry, the experience would go to your brain which says "there's a strawberry" and sort of gives you the choice to ignore it, or eat it, or wait and see whose it is, or anything else. then it sends that result to your core, which you can then feel going "oh my purpose! i REALLY want to eat the strawberry!!" and you feel that ghost-emotion perception of "you should eat it" and maybe take that into account but it's not part of your brain process within itself. meanwhile, if your core was in front, you would get the signal of "i see / sense a strawberry" and then the thought process would be "there are several things i can do here but i REALLY would prefer eating the strawberry to any other option" and you'd still get to choose but you would be automatically tending toward eating it unless you could talk yourself out of it. so for halfas using primarily their core to think, or for full ghosts, an obsession is like an addiction, it shifts your decision-making by changing how you subconsciously weigh your options. but while primarily using a brain (and you still have a core), an obsession is like a hyperfixation, it changes how much reward / emotional feedback you'll get which encourages your decisions but doesn't alter the actual process. so obsessions are a little easier to ignore with a brain.

IN ADDITION. since as i said earlier the obsession is the emotional influx that defines the form of a core, a half-human could repair major damage to the core (enough to confuse the ectoplasm-building instructions that it couldn't just tell the ghosts plasm how to repair itself) in a way a full ghost couldn't because they can produce their own human emotional energy to rebuild it. but it could only build itself off of core-building emotions, the ones that are like "no i have to ___". so WHATEVER that thought is is what the core repairs itself with. parts of the core built off a different thought than the original obsession will have a form based off the new thought. so for major core damage, the kind only liminals could heal, this means all the repaired area is of the new obsession. for damage the core can fix on its own, a liminal will repair it at double speed because both the core is replacing material in the original form AND the emotional energy is creating material with the new form (but only if there's a "I have to stick around so i can ___" thought, otherwise it heals at normal speed (or doesn't heal if the core can't repair itself)). so in this state the repaired area is half-original, half new. all this is to say that a half-ghost's core could be restructured enough to slightly alter or entirely redefine the obsession.

(note: ghosts can't repair their own cores using others' human emotional energy because the energy needs to come from someone with the same "soul" or "signature" as that ghost or their living self. this makes major core damage unfixable)

HOWEVER this would be very uncommon bc of the presence of the original obsession. this makes it so that the fries of the human brain are more likely to tend to the obsession since our receiving that encouragement toward it. so if you're dying your core would be all active like "NO I HAVE TO ACCOMPLISH X GOAL" and then your brain (which bear in mind was already naturally thinking that when you died) is like "oh shit you're right!! i DO have to accomplish x goal :(" which provides emotional energy in the same form your core was already built on. but if another influence is strong enough (or something is very very wrong with the core), then the brain has a different goal and restructures some of your core. like if you're dying and your core is like "PLEASE accomplish x goal" but your brain is like "you have a point but i REALLY NEED to accomplish y goal!" then your core will be repaired with y obsession. the fact that the core has more influence if it's healthy means that an obsession is actually more likely to be entirely changed, since the mostly-broken core won't shift your thoughts to original obsession, than slightly shifted.

CONCLUSION: a halfas obsession can be influenced if they suffer some core damage and are filled with the need to fulfill something other than their original obsession. a halfas obsession can be entirely changed if a majority of their core is damaged and they are filled with the different need.

#roxys worldbuilding #tried to use a different word for half ghost every time . got bored #didn't use doorway spirit though didn't want to confuse anybody #long post #THE CORES HC POST IS IN THE #dp worldbuilding #TAG! and now roxys worldbuilding but it wasnt before

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the-hs-etaverse · 4 years

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Aspect Groupings, IMO

Hi, first off, huge shoutout to @communistvriska who makes brilliant classpecting posts (they’re walls of text but it’s good text). But she made this fantastic analysis of the relationships between aspects and how they’re related to their positions on the aspect wheel (link).

So, I know, like, the post above is considerably more canon, but it made me remember that I think of the aspects in groups, too. It’s definitely a different system, and it doesn’t make quite as much sense w.r.t. the aspect wheel, but it’s my take (albeit a tepid one). And honestly, screw canon.

Please, take these with a grain of salt, because I am most definitely not writing these all out feverishly at 2 am. (No Keep Reading tag we you die like men)

Space-Time-Void: The World Aspects

These are the three aspects that are intrinsically connected to the fabric of reality. Yes, I’m excluding Light in this definition because of its alternate meaning, which is the one that seems more often used metaphysically in Sburb. But yeah, you have Space and Time, which are opposites in a sense (Space is the tangible reality and Time is the intangible but still real liminality), but then Void, which is absence, is basically the opposite of them both.

These are the most meta aspects, in a certain sense, because physics is based upon them. But they’re also the most tangible ones. They’re the ones with the most concretely singular definitions. They’re the ones that affect the dimensions that we can pass through (if Time counts as a dimension).

Going off of more symbolic representations of them, Space is creation, Time is revision (it’s basically the big fix-it tool of the cosmos), and Void is... well, it’s not really destruction; that’s Rage’s purview. It’s more of uncertainty. You’d think that would fit best with the Next aspects because they’re all about what’s going to happen next, but ACTUALLY MEGAN it doesn't quite fit there. Those aspects know where they’re going or where they might go. Void doesn’t know. Heck, it doesn’t even know the past sometimes (re: Equius’s Pesterquest route). But Void still fits the whole building metaphor because it’s like when you’re working on a Minecraft castle and you have no idea what to do next. Wondering about that sort of thing, and just waiting and walking around the building you’ve built, is rather important to the creative process, imo.

Mind-Heart-Blood: The Self Aspects

These are the three aspects that are intrinsically connected to one’s sense of self: body (Blood), mind (Mind), and soul (Heart). (Insert Vriska (Vriska) joke here (and another one about missing close-parentheses in Python (if you can’t tell, this was mostly written while sleep-deprived)).) But Blood is significantly more abstract than that: it’s also about one’s relationships with others, but in a different sense than Heart is. Blood is about bonds, and Heart is about emotions. And Mind is about logic, which, you could say, is an opposite of both of them.

You could even go so far as to compare Mind, Blood, and Heart to the Modes of Persuasion - logos, ethos, and pathos (respectively). Again, they’re representative of different aspects of a person’s psyche. But, like, I have no idea how you might apply that.

Okay, I have an idea with how that’s kind of being applied. Terezi’s the big Mind (translation: galaxy brain) player, and she’s all about lawyering and rules and logic. There’s your logos. Dirk’s the most developed Heart player, and he’s all about convincing through appeals to emotion, and that’s for the most part how he manipulates the narrative in the Epilogues and the ^2. There’s your pathos. And Karkat, the Blood player, uh, most of his leader stuff is in a sort of Cincinnatus-type of way; he’s not being the trolls session leader or the presidential candidate cuz he wants to, he’s doing it because somebody’s gotta step up and do it and he wants to do the right thing. There’s your ethos.

Breath-Light-Doom: The Next Aspects

These aspects being grouped together is why I made these groupings in the first place. Because, when taken deeper than face level, they all refer to one’s future. Breath is destiny (this is kind of a stretch, but “Winds of destiny, change!”), Light is chance, and Doom is fate. Yes, those are all synonyms, but they also refer to different aspects of one’s future. Destiny is about the biggest picture, where you fit in to the grand scheme of things; but it’s also about where the wind takes you here and now. It’s an extrapolation of your current path. Fate is about the fixed waypoints and endpoints, where the path will bottleneck, where you will go no matter what. And chance is about how much the path can divert along the way, and how much leeway the bottlenecks hold, and what you need to do to modify the biggest picture.

The more literal definitions of these aspects are Breath as wind; Light as, well, light (insert another Vriska (Vriska) joke here); and Doom as... uh, death.

I, uh, I really don’t have much else to say here. Uh, you guys take this one.

Hope-Rage-Life: The Now Aspects

This grouping, for me, is the most confusing (partly because they’re the aspects left over once the obvious ones are grouped together). Because Hope and Rage being tied together makes sense, obviously, but what does that all have to do with Life?

Well, I think they’re all mental attitudes, in a way, how we act now and how we choose to look at existence. Hope is optimism, Rage is pessimism, and Life is idealism. Take note: none of these are realism, not even Life. They’re all coloured lenses: When you look with Hope, you see the best version of the future. When you look with Rage, you see the worst version of the future. When you look with Life, you see your desired version of the future. But none of these are the real version of the future. Sure, they’re all beneficial in their own way, but sometimes you have to take those lenses off. I feel like Hope, Rage, and Life players have the hardest time taking off their own lenses.

Then there’s more literal definitions of the aspects: Hope is belief, Rage is destruction, and Life is growth. Very loosely speaking, these are the actions that you’d take in order to fulfill the respective mindsets. Like, I’m optimistic about Vrisrezi Real HS^2 Endgame (this optimism might be misplaced), so I’m believing super hard in that coming to pass. I’m pessimistic about Order of the Stick ending on any note other than the Snarl winning (but tbh this pessimism could also be misplaced), so I’m like “okay heck with it let it get wrecked big-time”. I’m idealistic about how I can eventually get not depressed (I pray that it’s not misplaced), so I’m working on growing in the not-depression area.

In like the grand scale, with reference to all of them

I’m not looking at these aspects in their relationship to a session. I’m more looking at them based on what they are, by definition. All these aspects are interconnected, they’re all related in different ways, especially in terms of definition, so you could absolutely make different groupings based on their definitions. This is just my take.

One thing I noticed about the Aspect Wheel is that it’s a cycle, the cycle of being. Space is about creation and birth, so you start there. You aren’t yet anything more than a substance, but then comes in your Mind, and you’re administered Hope, that you will yet be something more. And then you take your first Breath, and there begins your Life. You learn and are enLightened, and Time passes. You grow up. You learn to manage your Heart, and you have to fight against Rage, and then you form bonds of Blood. Your Blood spills out after long, and ultimately you have to face your Doom. You enter the Void. And there it ends, but there it also begins.

Wow, that got pretentious.

I have to wonder how religion would work in a setting like Sburb, if at all. The classpect system is pretty irreligious. But I’ll save that for a later post. Maybe.

#etaccurate #homestuck #aspect #headcanon #long post #queue #side note please read order of the stick #it's great

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cynthrey · 2 years

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Echoing through to you

When the skies cry

Until the Blood Moon descends

Then we’ll rewrite the stars

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

In honor of the finale of my good friend, @lunarsands‘, fanfic series “Soul Liminality 2: I Would Die For You” have some art about an angel who fell in love with a star.

#i wanted to draw hands holding and somehow ended with this #how idk #tried to replicate the style of that one witherangel pic i made months ago #scott smajor im never forgiving you for not thinking about making a cameo of your osmp starborne character at the end of your alsmp series #you had the perfect chance right there man XD #my art #alsmp #alsmp mythicalsausage #alsmp scott smajor #osmp scott smajor #<- technically #scosage #calling them celestial husbands as a joke XD #mythicalsausage #scott smajor #dangthatsalongname #soul liminality 2 #soul liminality 2: i would die for you #thanks alsmp for leading me to meeting an awesome person :)

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magicalgirlbethie · 4 years

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Pick a pile reading ✨

I was playing around with some of my decks to see how they looked/worked together and ended up doing an impromptu pick a pile reading. So, take a deep breath and focus on the cards. Choose the pile you feel the most drawn to and remember your number. Scroll to see the results and a bonus Affirmators! card. Remember to take what speaks to you and leave what doesn't!

Pile #1

You have needs that aren't being met. You've ignored vital nutrients your plants needed to grow. The sun is here to shine light on the situation and bring warmth and clarity. Take stock of what you've done well and what you still need to acquire for a good harvest next time. Fortune favors the bold. Move forward, leaving behind what you find hasn't been working for you and the habits that have been holding you back. Don't be afraid to start something new, but do so in a manner that is practical and helps you stay grounded. Don't rush and don't fall into old habits. The knight of pentacles always reminds me that slow and steady wins the race.

Pile #2

Now is not the time to act alone or do things behind another person’s back. You won't get anywhere moving forward in this way. Instead, cling to your soul tribe. Nurture yourself and the people you care about. Be creative and remember to drink water. Don't let your emotions get the better of you. Be ready for change because change is inevitable. You'll be stronger when it comes if you've watered and tended to your own garden, instead of spending time worrying about things you have no business meddling in. Focus on filling your own cup and the cups of those who would be there for you no matter what.

Pile #3

If you are at a crossroads, know that a decision must be made. Take some time to replenish if you need it, but know that you can't stay in this space forever. Movement and change are required. Allow the star to give you hope. Take time to breathe and review your options. You may be able to take what has you stuck and turn it into something new or see it in a new light. If you think about each of your paths in a new way, or imagine how one path could be combined with another, the path to take may become clear. Be open to messages from your ancestors or spirit guides (if you're into that sort of thing). They may be particularly helpful at this time. Whatever path you choose, you will be leaving something behind. Something has to die for this new door to open.

Decks used: Lili White Tarot, Postcards from the Liminal Space, Way Home Tarot, and Affirmators!

#tarot card reading #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #free tarot reading #oracle cards #divination

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sseizonsha · 5 years

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Leon and Survival

Motivations and Guilt as an Agent of Death

The Biohazard universe requires the audience to suspend disbelief, particularly in regards to the protagonists surviving events where others would have died. One could argue that this is merely protagonist armor for the sake of thrills and playing the game, but if you’ll allow me, I’d like to get a little more symbolic and meta about this fact.

Leon is defined most prominently by two things: his tenacity, quick-thinking, and improvisation in the field, and the severity of the loss he experiences when he fails to save people in need. This eventually leads Leon to become the jaded and a little more distrusting version of what he used to be. But what’s most important here is despite this, Leon never loses his penchant for gambling on a snowball’s chance in hell. He never loses his idealism. He never stops believing he can help someone.

If I could let myself be facetious for a moment: Leon S. Kennedy. Leon Sentimental Kennedy. Leon Self-Sacrificing Kennedy. Leon Serve Justice Kennedy. Leon, ever the Survivor.

I have touched on this before in my exploration of Leon’s PTSD, but I really need to stress for anyone and everyone willing to listen: Leon does not take the term “survivor” as a compliment or as something to be lauded, and he prefers not to be referred to as such. At best, he uses it ironically in order to make fatalistic, derisive jabs at himself. The term serves as a reminder of all the people he’s failed and all the innocents he’s lost. This is also why, in Degeneration when defending Claire’s expertise, he omitted the fact that she wasn’t the only Raccoon City survivor in the room.

For Leon, helping others get to safety supersedes everything, including direct orders from top brass on mission; at the root of it, seeing others get out and survive IS his mission. Take, for example:

The important scene in RE2 leading up to and following Robert Kendo’s death, in which Leon shows serious emotional compassion for Kendo’s family and demands that Ada not keep the truth from innocent people. He explains that helping people is the only reason why he’s even here, that he cannot and will not allow her or anyone else keep the truth quiet.

When Leon and Helena are walking through Ivy University and come across the man looking for his daughter. Helena insists that they don’t have time for this, to which Leon responds, “We’re making the time.”

There is nothing more important or valuable to him than another’s life. Therein lies the greatest source of scarring and trauma for Leon: most of the people he stops to help end up dying anyway, and he is left standing over his friends’ and charges’ bodies, asking himself what exactly was the point of it all.

One could argue that this signifies Leon being protected by a force greater than himself. But you could also argue that Leon is that very protective force acting upon others. It is a secondary role, certainly, as his main career and role is to protect and serve and keep others alive. But no less important is this one: in which Leon S. Kennedy assumes the role of a psychopomp in the Biohazard universe.

Greek for “conveyer of the soul,” psychopomps serve a crucial role in most mythologies in that they exist to guide the recently deceased to the afterlife without hitch. It is important to note that many psychopomps do not exist to judge the soul; that they simply guide them to the next stage of passing. They are described as liminal beings: able to pass through both the land of the living and the land of the dead.

Below the read more I will explore these three defining aspects of Leon as a psychopomp. This is already a long post. Take a breather, maybe. Get some water. Get some sleep.

Judgement

One major quality that separates Leon’s character from many of the heroes in the Biohazard universe is that Leon's primary motivation is protecting innocents from villains rather than fighting the villains themselves; his personal stake in this fight is one based on compassion and the need for helping the victims and survivors. He doesn’t waste his time hating the bad guys more so than combating the corruption and greed that they stand for.

It is this nonjudgmental quality about Leon that allows him to see the world in shades of grey. He can empathize with motivations even if he doesn’t agree with them, and it’s for this reason why he can work so easily beside people like Ada Wong, Manuela Hidalgo, and Alexander Kozachenko.

With Leon as a psychopomp, this grey morality works for another reason: that a number of the characters who’ve died and had an impact on Leon all confessed some manner of sin to him before they died. More than that, they all acknowledge Leon in their own way. Below I will list some notable examples:

Marvin Branagh: Arguably the catalyst for Leon accepting his role in this fight, Marvin is first of many people to die in Leon’s line of service to the cause. When the Lieutenant insists that Leon leave without him, Leon refuses and says there’s still time. It is only when Marvin pulls a gun on him to save himself that Leon relents. Marvin names his guilt: “I tried, Leon. But I couldn’t stop it. We can’t let this thing spread. It’s on you now.”

Ada Wong: (subverted) Ada Wong is an entire meta post on her own in regards to Leon’s feelings, but she deserves mention here. The pain of her betrayal, “Why couldn’t you just hand over the sample,” was later exacerbated with the knowledge that she chose (allegedly) to die on her own terms rather than allowing Leon to save her. Ada tells him that “It isn’t worth it. Take care of yourself,” before falling to her supposed death.

Adam Benford: The United States President and long-time friend of Leon’s, Adam was prepared to sink the USA’s reputation into the ground for the sake of the truth and taking responsibility. When he tells Leon this confession, Leon responds with surprise but ultimately with support: “Whatever you decide, sir, I’m with you.” Adam validates Leon and tells him, “I’ve always valued your friendship.” I imagine this is one of the last things he says to Leon before he dies by Leon’s hand.

Luis Sera: Did not intend to die by anyone’s hands, including his own, but his motivations for helping Leon and Ashley are driven entirely by a need to repent. “I am a researcher, hired by Saddler....The sample. Saddler took it. You have to get it back.”

Liminal Beings

Spiritual guides are so powerful in the fact that they have an uncanny ability to travel between both worlds (living and dead) with ease. The most obvious parallel of this is Leon’s sheer luck in getting roped into outbreaks of undead infections and leaving alive and relatively unscathed. Such an existence is a lonely one. While the psychopomp may have companions for a time ( mission partners or innocents in need ), a rare few share his ability to travel between spaces; most often than not, those who follow from one destination must remain behind or move on.

When the psychopomp travels, it is often within a vessel which few can drive or operate, which is undoubtedly symbolic of the soul’s lack of control. In media and story-telling this is actually a trope known as the Afterlife Express. Leon S. Kennedy is often written and played in tandem with vehicular scenes, regardless of whether he is operator, passenger, or witness:

The beginning of Resident Evil 2: In which Leon drives his own Jeep (in full control) and ultimately switches to drive an abandoned RPD police cruiser deeper into Hell; it is subsequently crashed into and destroyed by an oncoming semi. Leon is temporarily trapped in Hell and must survive and find another way out (via the endgame train).

The beginning of Resident Evil 4: In which Leon is being driven by someone else into the countryside Pueblo. He is shown to be gazing out the window, contemplating on prior events. It is a recollection of his life’s past---his---but the ones doomed to meet their deaths are the Spanish police, who up until seemed so deceptively in control of the situation.

RE4: Ada driving the boat to the island. Again, subverted, as Ada does not die but chooses to leave the vehicle on her own terms.This forces Leon to take the controls and steer himself the rest of the way to his next area.

RE4: Mike and the helicopter. He meets and interacts with Leon just long enough to help guide Leon along his path; his death is a subsequent righting of roles. Leon witnessing Mike’s death and promising to honor him posthumously fixes this.

RE6: The start screen and Lanshiang. Leon rides a train with no known conductor steering the rails. The train is empty, save for himself; then with his companion, then with the soul he is sent to fight (Simmons.)

RE6: The plane. The pilot is subsequently killed and mutates into a Lepotica. Because everyone on board, with the exception of Leon and Helena, are infected, Leon is forced to take the controls and land the plane as best he can. Leon crashing the plane and surviving with Helena attests to his ability to move between literal spaces; the corpses and zombies destroyed in the plane crash all move on to the next world.

RE Damnation and the tank: While Sasha drives the tank and steers seemingly to his death against the Tyrant-Class mutant, Leon intervenes.

As a Guide

Beyond everything else that’s been said---and beyond the obvious that Leon’s primary duties are protective detail and getting his charges where they need to go, Leon's presence serves as a reassuring boon to many of the people he comes across.

Leon internalizes the deaths of everyone he fails to save. The main issue with this beyond the way it affects him is that Leon lacks the ability to see the reality of hindsight. Events in which an outbreak occurred (Harvardsville, Tall Oaks, Lanshiang) happened in a large enough scale that containment was nearly impossible. Sterilization was more or less the only way to eradicate the issue at hand. With or without Leon’s self-sacrificing and offers to help, the fact of the matter remains glaringly obvious to anyone else:

Most of the people caught in the chaos of these events likely would’ve died anyway.

Leon stopping to help gave these survivors the chance to last longer than they might have otherwise. He took that snowball’s chance in hell and made it count for what it was worth. The truth of the matter is? Although he is written as psychopomp symbolically, he is first and foremost incredibly and literally human.

From the symbolic, spiritual perspective, Leon is incapable of realizing that it is not his job to stop all of these people from dying---it is simply his job to be there for them so that they are not alone.

#meta.#leon s kennedy #biohazard commentary | ooc.#biohazard #resident evil #long post for ts #tw death #uh.#yeah so this is really long and 'm really proud of it and this is all thanks to luca for their suggestion.#someone tell me I'm good at writing #or someone tell me my love of leon fuckin' kennedy is real.

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lunarsands · 1 year

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ALSMP Fanfic: Wherever These Flowers May Grow Ch 1

Characters: goddess!PearlescentMoon, actual!angel!Sausage, starborne!Scott; reintroducing: floran!Scott and introducing: floran!Sausage; with special guest Empires SMP S2 Joel, and a cameo by Origins SMP CaptainSparklez

Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor

Tags: Canon Divergent, scosage, fluff

Warnings: Character Death (temporary as usual with this series), a tiny bit of angst

(Sequel to Echoing Through To You, When The Skies Cry, Until The Blood Moon Descends, and Then We’ll Rewrite the Stars)

Part Five of the Soul Liminality 2: I Would Die For You series.

(Also available on Ao3!)

Summary: Pearl sends Sausage and Scott on a mission to help out on another mortal world different from their old one. Scott finds himself returned to an old set of powers; Sausage gets new ones which, as it turns out, he has some trouble controlling. It’s not exactly a honeymoon trip, but they do meet a nice new godling while there.

[A/N: I missed writing these guys so here we are again! I guess you could say this completes the crossover between Afterlife and Empires that I implied with Pearl’s past in previous fics. | Shout out to Rendog for his amazing Gigaverse proposal, which I have implied a small bit here]

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Chapter One

The goddess PearlescentMoon tried to hide a yawn. Summits that required all deities of the universe to attend always ended up being tedious. There was inevitably someone who took up the allotted time for each session by going off on a tangent. Today was supposed to be the forum for making requests if anyone needed another god’s particular specialty. She had already answered a few asking for aid in developing farmlands and crop maintenance knowledge on the respective mortal worlds that they oversaw.

Currently someone was ranting about the distribution of stone types, which wasn’t in her portfolio so she tuned out and instead started making a mental list of which angels she would send to help out with the requests she had accepted so far. A different voice loudly cleared their throat. “Since we’re now almost out of time, I need to quickly ask – I have a world that needs revitalizing in far more areas than I can manage at the moment. If anyone has help they can spare who has knowledge of the care of flora and can be responsible about what will actually grow in particular climates, that would be appreciated. Right now, the helper my nature underling has is someone who thinks roses bloom when spring is still six weeks away and believes poinsettias will grow in snow.”

Pearl perked up with a smile. “Say no more. I have just the guy. And his husband.”

~*~

The new farmhouse that Sausage and Scott had been building together was coming along nicely. The atmosphere in Pearl’s realm was decidedly different from Heaven’s Reach, with flat farmlands all around their little private plot and a bit too much of the same range of colors with the purposeful arrangement of crop types in neat squares, but they made the most of it. They had their own personal garden full of silvery-white angelflowers and a contrasting dark blue flower with gold flecks on the petals: starflowers, as Pearl had named them, and had been her wedding gift to them.

They had thanked her and promptly planted them everywhere. At dusk the flowers would begin to release specks of glowing pollen, filling the air with bright motes, which was a sight they would sometimes sit to enjoy before Scott went off to tend to the distribution of stars across the mortal realms, ensuring there were enough of them visible to guide travelers and inspire creative souls.

Over the course of nine lives their fates became intertwined, and on the tenth life they found each other again beyond the mortal world. From angel Sausage began and to angel he returned, but with his rise from guardian to seraph he also had to return to the celestial realm, leaving Scott behind. Eventually Scott crossed into his final life, yet gained the form of starborne, allowing him to ascend to that plane as well and reunite. They found peace together once again, with only a few daily jobs to interfere.

Aside from general seraph duties, Sausage had once again taken up the mantle of architect of the realm, designing and building newer versions of structures that could be passed on to Pearl’s mortal followers. As such, the house had ended up a little cluttered with drafting supplies and building materials, since Sausage hadn’t yet made an actual storage place for himself. This led to there being times when they had to navigate around stacks of crates simply to get in and out of the door.

One morning, Sausage was in the process of trying to get things in order when Scott arrived home. The simple reverberation from the door was enough to send the overly tall stack beside it tumbling. Sausage’s reflex was to jump toward Scott to push him out of the way, but the starborne casually put up a hand and froze the boxes in mid-air with a change of gravity; with his other hand he stopped Sausage’s momentum, then he gave the seraph a little smile.

Sausage laughed awkwardly as he found his feet, folding his wings back in. “Oh, right, I don’t have to protect you as much anymore.”

“I don’t think that’s an instinct you will lose anytime soon,” Scott said with amusement. He reached for one of the falling boxes, plucking it from the frozen gravity and placing it in a new spot on the floor. He removed the rest the same way until there was less danger, then returned the gravity in that spot back to normal. His control over it was different from a gravital, but there were enough similarities that he had taken some of Sausage’s advice on a few tricks. “Although maybe one of these times you’ll remember that I can protect you, too.”

“I can think of a few times you saved my feathers. Remember that really bad storm?”

“How could I forget? Being cut off from daylight for that long was almost as tiring as winter. I still think it was crazy to try flying in that.”

“Hey, I was just trying to get home! I didn’t expect it to get that windy so fast! I still made it safely, though, right?”

“Sausage, just because you don’t need your other wings for flying doesn’t mean damaging only one of them counts as being ‘safe’.”

“Listen. Listen. That tree came out of nowhere. The wind threw it at me! It’s not like I thought to myself ‘Sausage, maybe you should rest for half a second. Two minutes. What do birds do in storms? They take cover under leaves. Or something. So, I just need to, like, perch somewhere for a teeny tiny bit, then get back to flying.’ Then, bam, big ol’ tree trunk hit me!”

“I know you told me this before, but I still do not believe an entire tree was uprooted and flung into your path. I had flowers panicking all around me, but they stayed in the ground.”

“That’s the thing! You weren’t there! And the wind is much worse higher up, those air currents get really crazy!”

“Boy, have I got news for you about the upper atmosphere,” Scott teased. “Anyway, how about we get back to the present and start doing something to clean this up? Why don’t we make that today’s project – before we run out of space in here?” He smiled and hefted the box he had recently put down. “You have a dozen storage building designs. Pick one, and we’ll make changes later if you decide you want it to look different.”

Sausage was about to agree when a voice called from the still-open door, “Knock-knock! How are my favorite seraph and shooting star doing today?” Pearl leaned over to smile through the doorway, maintaining her godly extra height. “You’ll forgive me if I decline an invitation to come in. Even if the ceiling was higher…” She swept a glance around at all the crates.

“I’ll make the storage building tall enough for you, Pearl!” Sausage offered brightly. Adoration shined in his eyes as he looked at her, a different kind of fondness than what he held in his heart for Scott. “But I’m guessing you didn’t stop by just to look at this mess, and, uh, I guess that also means no home projects for me today.” He glanced at Scott, and the starborne looked around with resignation as he set down the box. “You can always surprise me with a building you want to design, and I’ll help move everything into it later. Okay, Pearl, let me know what you need me to do!”

“Actually, I need both of you. Come outside and we’ll talk about it.”

The two traded glances. Pearl had no authority over what a starborne did, so it was up to Scott if he wanted to help her with something, but they did both follow her off the porch into the yard to hear her out.

“To keep this short, one of the overseer-type gods at the summit needs help with terraforming, and was asking for anyone with good plant care knowledge. I figured you two fit that perfectly, and since you have that little habit of not going anywhere without each other, I wanted to ask if you would go together. I even know someone who can fill in for you, Scott, for a little while. He’s a young prince named Sparklez. You might even be able to keep an eye on him from where you’ll be, and maybe send up a signal if you think he needs a guiding hand.”

Scott mulled that over. “Well, there were other starborne before me in this region, it makes sense for another to also learn it. Where is this planet?”

“Same MC-M-JAVA region and YT-MC-SMP galaxy, but different solar system than where you were from. It’s a really small one, with only a sun and a single planet, if that helps,” she replied.

“Hmm. I might have gone near that one at least once that I can remember. It, ah, had a lot going on that clouded the atmosphere. I don’t know if it was only volcanoes at the time or something else. They were rather red-looking clouds.”

“There was some upheaval in its past as I recall. That would explain the need for extra environmental help, actually,” Pearl commented. There was something else in her voice, but whatever it was, she hid the emotion behind a smile.

“It doesn’t need star-seeding, does it?”

“No, it’s inhabited, but obviously the mortals currently there are limited by resource stability.”

Scott asked a few other questions, and meanwhile Sausage was glancing back and forth between them in utter confusion. Finally, he yelled, “What the HECK are you two talking about??”

Pearl gave a short, light laugh. “Sorry. Let’s go back to the terraforming part. Do what you do best. Fix up some soil, get some plants to grow, make things look pretty, and come on home when you’re done. It might be a bit longer term than your other missions have been, but you’ll be together. Just try not to influence the locals too much. Other gods have a presence there, but they don’t need to know one of my angels is there, too.”

“We can manage that,” Sausage said with a nod. “When do you want us to go?”

“Any time.” Pearl raised her hands, golden light flickering around her fingers. “I can send you right now, if you don’t have to settle anything else first.”

Sausage thought for a moment, then took Scott’s hand and pulled him close to kiss him, then released him. “All right, all ready!”

The starborne laughed then nodded. “Yeah, I think that covered everything for now.”

“All right, on your way. I’ll come find you to bring you back here when you’re done.” Pearl held out her hands and stepped forward, placing one on each’s head. “Thank you. I know you’ll do great things.”

At her touch, Scott’s body took on the violet glow of his star form, turning bright and indistinct. Sausage became a silvery-white flame, then they shot upward into the sky, guided by godly magic out of the celestial plane toward their destination.

~*~

Scott wondered too late if he should have held on to Sausage’s hand. He didn’t know if the other had experienced planetfall in the same manner as a starborne would, back on the world where they had met, but he also figured Sausage had his wings to make the descent easier. He himself was, predictably, plummeting like a rock, but he had already positioned himself feet-first to make a proper starborne landing. He was more focused on that than making other observations, so he didn’t take in much about his surroundings – including that sunlight wasn’t having a negative effect on him – before he made impact at the edge of a gravel pit.

He caused a modest crater, sending bits of gravel flying in a directional spray; normally his first concern would be to put out any resulting fires before they could spread, but he was instantly distracted by a sensation running through the ground and up into a former part of his brain that had once understood those signals. It wasn’t meteor fragments.

He could hear the plants. Scott looked down in a panic, wondering if he had landed on something important connected to the flora, then gave a start. His own appearance was on the green side, his black and violet gradients replaced with verdant and brown, from hands to bare feet right down to his clothes, the gossamer sleeves now a shimmering pale green. His overcoat still had some glints of gold, although his belt was now made of assorted types of tree leaves, which also decorated the bottom of his coat. He raised a hand to his hair and could feel the soft petals of a flower crown. He suspected his eyes would now be a bright, spring green.

He was a floran again.

“But… why...?” he asked of the empty air.

Pearl had said they needed to do terraforming, and tend plants for a while… so maybe it made sense to return him to being a floran. He would handle the plants, and Sausage the terraforming…

Yet there was a problem.

“Wait, how am I supposed to signal that Prince Sparklez like this?!”

There was still no answer, including nothing from Sausage. He needed to go find him before trying to decide on the rest. He sent out a query through the roots he could feel under the ground. Has anyone noticed a humanoid flying around, like a bird with six wings? He received a mixed chorus of confusion and negative responses. He figured he would have to pick a direction and start walking, but then he felt the rapid growth of roots nearby, and he turned around in time to see a small sunflower sprout. Another appeared a short distance away, leading into the underbrush of the sparse forest at the edge of all the gravel.

He began to follow them as they popped up one by one. It seemed Pearl could still assist them in some way. He did another check with the plants for anything they thought might seem dangerous, then started calling, “Sausage! Sau-sage! Can you hear me?” If he was on top of the trees somewhere he might see Scott wandering around, but letting him know he was there wouldn’t hurt.

However, it was near ground level that he finally heard the seraph answer, albeit muffled and weary-sounding. “Scott…? Over here…”

The voice came from within a thick patch of overgrowth, where some small trees and reeds had managed to cluster together, while large tropical foliage and tall grass made it so Scott had to ask them to part so he could make his way through. He figured from how Sausage sounded that his wings had gotten tangled in everything going on in there. It seemed a little weird how fresh the growth appeared compared to where Scott had just come from, but he chalked it up to the quirkiness of whoever had been handling the revitalization before they had arrived.

Scott then felt his foot slip down an unexpected incline. He looked around more carefully and noticed – despite the covering of grass – that the incline curved around. This… was the crater where Sausage must have landed, but… how was it full of plants, and not wrecked like the area around his own landing?

“Scott? I need a hand, please.”

Snapping out of his ponderings, Scott turned to where he definitely heard the voice, and now waved a hand to make even more of the plants bow to one side or the other, hoping that would help free Sausage’s wings in the process. He heard an “Oof!” in response and saw… not silvery white moving beyond the next cluster of trees, but red and orange. Concerned, he hurried around one of them and then stopped short to stare.

Where Scott had general forest-themed coloring now, Sausage had the bright colors of incoming autumn. Armor and robes gone, he was now shirtless with a leather-like vest made of red oak leaves, while a different set of leaves layered over each other in a cascade formed his customary pauldron and arm guard. He had short, dark red trousers that exposed his lower legs, which, like his arms, had the same green dappling as Scott’s skin. Although he also had a flower crown, in place of his halo was a small wreath of interwoven twigs. The scar over his eye was now in the shape of a small swirling vine, curling off into the side of his hairline and down to his beard, which was dotted with tiny flowers. His wings were gone, too, but from over his shoulders, where the wispy wing root feathers would have been, were tufts of autumn fern fronds.

Sausage was similarly stunned to see Scott’s new appearance, and they ended up staring at each other for a moment. “You’re a—”

“—Floran—”

“—Again.”

“—Too.”

They laughed.

Scott offered a sympathetic look afterward. “Your wings… Are you feeling okay without them?”

“Well…” Sausage turned to let Scott get a better look at the fern fronds, with one bunch sticking out of the collar of his vest and another hanging out from underneath the bottom of it. He turned toward him again with a small shrug. “These kind of itch a little but they’re kind of soft at the same time? Like, they’re the best that whatever this transformation is could come with to replace feathers? You know, when Pearl said we’d be helping with plants, this isn’t—” At that moment one of the tropical foliage plants abruptly sprung up between them, smacking him in the face and startling him so much he fell backward, having lost sense of his center of gravity without his wings.

“Rude,” Scott scolded it. He stepped around it to reach for Sausage’s hand to help him up. As their fingers touched, an angelflower bloomed in Sausage’s hair above his ear, while a starflower bloomed in Scott’s. They shared another smile before Scott pulled him back to his feet. “Well, I have to say, you do make for a very handsome floran. And things will be easier if we don’t have to dig or till soil. We can have roots make channels to reroute water flow where needed.”

“Okay, well, you tell me what to do and I’ll figure out how to make these powers work! Not really a new concept for us, after all.” Sausage grinned, and they made their way out of his landing site to the sparser area beyond.

Yet, as soon as Sausage stepped out onto the bare ground, a flurry of ferns and taller grass sprouted out from under his foot, spreading in diameter. The same happened with his next step. “Uh, these powers sure are working. How come it isn’t happening when you walk?” He looked around at the distinct lack of extra footprint-patterned plant growth.

Curious about the phenomena, Scott took a few steps before thinking at the grass to have it grow beneath him. It started to lengthen, but stopped the moment he told it to. Meanwhile, as Sausage walked a meter along, the greenery kept sprouting up. “Well,” Scott reasoned, “You were the most powerful tier of angel. I guess that means you became a powerful floran. Huh! That explains why all this is here, while I only made a hole in the ground when I landed.”

“But don’t you have to think and focus on your powers to make them work? I’m not doing this on purpose! It’s just happening!”

Even as they stood there, four tree saplings and a burst of tropical foliage sprang up behind him.

“Okay, I can see how this might become a problem,” Scott admitted. “Alright, so, if I have to think about what I want plants to do, maybe you need to do the opposite? Think about it not happening?”

“But I wasn’t thinking of either thing!”

“Just try it.”

Sausage made a doubtful face but looked down as he lifted a foot to take one step. “There is nothing growing out of the ground. This is bare dirt.” He cautiously put his foot down. For half a second nothing happened, and he started to look relieved, but then a smattering of grass sprouts appeared and then spread. “Oh-kay, maybe I just need to practice.” He sighed and walked toward Scott, more greenery forming in his wake.

“Next thing to do is find a barren place,” Scott decided, “Where the land needs the help anyway. Providing that the sun moves the same way as our old world, we should have plenty of time to start exploring and find a spot. We might have to spend the night in a tree to keep you from touching the ground, or else we’ll wake up trapped in a gardener’s nightmare, judging by the rate stuff grows around you.” He looked toward Sausage’s landing site.

“Right. Um. I’m really missing my wings now, because, uh, if I could fly, I wouldn’t have to touch the ground at all.” Sausage twitched his shoulders, moving the fern fronds to not much effect.

“Well, we have to work with what we’ve got for now.” Scott gave him a reassuring smile, then took his hand as they headed off to see what else was out in this new world. He made an attempt to ask the plants to not grow too out of hand despite the former angel��s power flowing into them, but he wasn’t sure it was working. At least if they kept moving there was less chance of anything going completely overboard.

~*~

“Oh, there’s the ‘hired help’,” proclaimed Adelfa disdainfully, crossing their arms over their long chiton and tapping a sandaled foot in annoyance before giving a shake of the vine-like laurel leaves cascading from their head. They stood upon a cloud overlooking the area where the two florans had arrived. “You know, when I told this planet’s overseer that this job was going to be big and I needed an additional competent hand, I wasn’t expecting such a show off. Look at that one. Stuff everywhere he wanders to. But I guess at least it’s native plants.”

Beside them, the recently created godling wearing a shorter chiton and sporting a green streak in his dark hair as a sign of having been split from the nature god themself, leaned over the side of the cloud as if to get a better look. He could create clouds, so he had no worry of falling. “I don’t know, they look harmless to me. They’re like having more nature sprites, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but I didn’t make them that.”

“Yeah, I know, or you would have already done it. We said that before, when we were complaining about how much work we have to do, and then we made me.”

“Look, Joel, just because you were part of my essence up until a week ago doesn’t mean you get to be a smarty pants. You’re an independent power now. Go do your job and cause a rainstorm over their heads.”

“A second ago you said I was independent! Doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want?” He grinned cheekily.

“You’re still part of nature! I can’t be bothered with the weather anymore, but I’m still in charge!”

“Fine. But I don’t see the point in bothering them right away. They just got here.”

Adelfa sighed in exasperation. “Then keep an eye on them for now. I have things to do, but don’t forget that storm over the new archipelago. There are too many islands in that thing, we need to flood some of them under before any mortals move in there.”

“Right, right, got it. I’ll remember.” Joel rolled his eyes as he split off a portion of the cloud to subtly follow after the newcomers. He was curious about them and where they had come from, but he didn’t really feel like asking the other gods if they knew more; they were currently tolerating his existence. Not everyone was fond of one of their number up and separating out bits of their power into extra gods without consulting everyone else first. Having such a large dominion over aspects of the world, Adelfa was egotistical enough to have done so. He didn’t see how that was his fault, however.

~*~

Scott and Sausage crossed into a jungle where they soon needed to climb over some overgrown rubble that pointed to a civilization having been there at one time. Sausage stood on top of a low wall to see if hand-hewn stone would slow down his powers. Instead of new growth, he caused the existing moss and grass that had taken root in the cracks to spread. One corner of a block even crumbled off as those roots expanded. He grimaced and hopped down before he accidentally destroyed anything else.

“I don’t think anyone is going to notice,” Scott commented.

“You did!”

“Because I can feel what’s growing and know exactly what’s happening.”

“Well, I still want to get this under control before we run into any standing villages. Pearl did say this world is inhabited. We’ll see them eventually.”

“We’ll avoid them for now and keep going until we find an empty place. Although, we might have to stop here for the night, anyway, since there are plenty of trees around.” Scott craned his neck to look up at the canopy high overhead. “Hmm. Hold on. I have an idea.” He called down a couple of large vines from the nearest tree, directing them to wrap securely around his and Sausage’s torsos then had them lift the two of them up so they could get on top of the tree with the intention of getting a better view of the surrounding land.

To Sausage’s relief there was no crazy new burst of leaves when the vine set him down. Not having his wings for balance – or an assurance against falling – he crouched down to keep himself steadier. From there he could see the scarred land beyond the jungle, which might take them until past nightfall to reach. “Those are some impressive chasms. And looks like a lot of lava could be down there with the way they’re glowing. I guess we could start there and fix up the spots around them.”

“No, let’s stay away from anything that could be dangerous. Keep in mind we don’t know the rules of this world. If something happens, we might revive as something different, or not at all. I didn’t think to ask Pearl about that.” Scott grimaced.

“Oh… That’s a very good point, thank you for putting that in my head, I am now officially terrified of falling out of this tree.”

“Maybe we should assume we’re under divine protection and are immortal, since a god did send us here.” Scott gave a weak smile and waved one of the vines back over to create a tether around Sausage’s waist. “There you go.”

“Perfect, that solves the problem completely, nothing else could possibly go wrong.”

Scott returned to considering the view around them. “Let’s go a different way for now…” He could see part of another type of forest that blended with one side of the jungle, then he continued to turn and saw a washed-out sliver of land along the horizon. “We’ll go that way in the morning. Could be a desert. Aside from some cactus, your power might be limited there, and we can work on you getting a handle on it.”

“Great plan. Now, can I ask if we could sleep closer to the ground?”

“Of course. I didn’t intend to stay all the way up here. I’m sorry if this is a lot for you… My old floran instincts kicked back in so I’ve been going right along with it this whole time.” He gently patted Sausage’s arm. “We have a little more time to walk, too, before we climb another tree, if that will help you feel a little better. We only need to pick a spot before sunset. I’m not sure how fast ‘night-mode’ will hit you.”

When the vines lowered them to the ground, Sausage sighed in relief, now less bothered by the grass that immediately raised up beneath and around his feet. “It’s not your fault, by the way. I’m having moments where I forget, for just a second, that I don’t have wings. Y’know, like – I had a thought up there that I could go scout around, find the best place to start in, carry you over so we could get there faster – then remembered, ‘Oh, right. Can’t fly’.”

Scott patted his arm again. “You’ll get them back when we go home. You know what thought I keep having? ‘How am I supposed to signal that Sparklez fellow if I don’t have my star powers!’ All I can really do is hope he can figure things out. You would think a prince would have that as some kind of royal training. I didn’t even know there was a prince of the starborne. Not that I’ve talked to a lot of others. I just know they’re out there. I picked up on it later – since the most important thing to me when I first changed was figuring out where I was, so I could figure out how to get to you.”

Sausage smiled warmly at him. They set off in the direction of what Scott was still guessing was a desert, making the most of what was left of the afternoon.

When it came into better view through the last line of jungle trees, Scott raised an intrigued eyebrow. “A mesa. Even better. If we go far enough out, your powers won’t even reach these plants to make them spread. For now, though…” He gestured to one of the shorter trees that had branches closer to the ground. “That one should do. I can make the vines create a hammock, if that works?”

“I like that idea. Feels safer. Okay, one more question. What about food? I haven’t actually felt hungry all this time, but I remember us keeping bottles of honey on hand before.”

“The sunlight feeds us the majority of the time. Honey is like a little boost, or if it’s cloudy, or the days are shorter.”

“Oh. Uh, oh. Um. I hope we’re done with this before winter.”

“I get the feeling we won’t have to worry about that. Doesn’t seem like anywhere near to even autumn to me. The seasons could even be wonky here, and maybe there’s no winter at all.”

“Are you only saying that to make me feel better?”

“Possibly. Come on, let’s get settled in.”

Once the hammock was in place, the two got cozy to watch the sky darken together. Sausage kept wiggling around a little, not used to laying on his back without having to mind his wings. “I just realized how long it’s been since I’ve needed sleep. Taking naps was just kind of a nice thing to pass the time. This is going to feel weird when the sun is all the way down.”

“That’s a good point. Starborne can’t even sleep at night. We’re in automatically-awake mode.”

Sausage gazed around at the dots of light that were beginning to appear between the leaves of the tree. “I guess you’ll miss being up out there as much as I already miss flying.”

“I was trying not to think about it, but you’re right.” Scott then yawned. “Either way, time to make like the day-bloomers and curl up for the night.” He leaned his head against Sausage’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“You’re not going to worry about keeping a watch out for Sparklez?”

“Nah. We had a long day. He’s on his own right now.” He yawned again. “We have our own things to worry about. It’s not like he can mess things up that badly…”

[ Chapter Two ]

#alsmp #alsmp fanfic #alsmpshipping #scosage #pearlescentmoon #mythicalsausage #scott smajor #dangthatsalongname #joel smallishbeans #actual!angel!sausage #starborne!scott #goddess!pearlescentmoon #soul liminality 2 #lunar yarns

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kuipernebula · 5 years

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Hmm...

So Solars get (Attribute+Ability) as a cap for their Excellencies, which means they can get anywhere between +2 and +10. (Can’t have less than 1 in an attribute, and you need at least 1 in an ability to get its Excellency) Abyssals and Infernals share this.

Dragon-Blooded have a Dice Limit of (Ability(+1 if relevant Specialty)), which gives a range of +1 to +6 die to their Excellency; for 1 Willpower they can reroll up to (Essence) Failures, so 1~5 (though likely the 1~3 range for the vast majority).

Lunars get (Attribute) as a cap, but it can be (Attribute+Attribute) if they stunt a second attribute, making those stunts their bread and butter. So that’s, roughly speaking, anywhere from +1 to +10 on a given roll.

Sidereals have a hard cap of (Essence), but can reduce the target value of success from 7 to 4. So a range of +1 to +5, though as with Dragon-blooded, rarely seen with more than +3. (Given the system uses 10-sided Die, that changes from a 4/10 chance of success (with 1/10 chance of 2 successes) to a 7/10 chance of success (with 1/10 chance of 2 successes))

Liminals have (Attribute), but increase it to (Attribute+Essence) if their anima is flaring and revealing their Horrible Undead Nature. So without Anima, +1 to +5; with it, +2 to +10. (Though rarely above +8)

Though excellencies are not the end-all, be-all of power level - Sidereals being the standout - it’s easy to see some generalities. Dream-Souled Excellencies likely won’t stray too much higher than +6; Hearteaters and Umbrals wouldn’t shock me to be at an effective cap of +8~+10.

The problem with speculating specifics is that Essence as a basis for an Excellency scales very slowly, especially compared to those Exalted whose caps don’t require different Essence levels, and thus can get at least one Full Excellency right out the gate.

The Essence-based excellencies of 2e had caps still based on (Attribute+Ability), it was just the excellency itself was apathetic to the actual Attribute or Ability being used. Which may serve as some level of inspiration, i.e. I don’t have to use Essence in the formula for it to be an Essence-based excellency.

I feel like Dream-Souled should have Stunts involved in their cap? It fits their theme of being related to dreams, and the problems of stunting above +1 actually works to the inconsistency of dreams in general. Maybe they get (Attribute or Ability+Stunt Level)? So a cap range of +1 to +8, though generally they’ll be +2 to +6.

I don’t know if Raksha will be retaining their Graces from 2e, but if they do then I’ll retract my suggestion for Minor Arcana-themed Excellencies. Maybe themed after the 5 basic emotions - Happiness, Sadness, Anger, Disgust, Fear? (Maybe renamed Joy, Sorrow, Rage, Disgust, Terror?) Such that they can apply the Excellency as long as they can stunt it as being related to that emotion? (Which would change the minimum for the Excellency to +2) The problem is this feels a lot like a suggestion for Castes rather than for proper Excellencies. It’s all a toss-up, really.

If I’m right about the Hearteater gimmick being spending eaten Souls on power, I wouldn’t be shocked if they can increase their Dice Cap if they spend a Soul. Maybe (Higher of Attribute or Ability) as a standard cap, and (Attribute+Ability) if they spend a Soul? So +1 to +10, similar to a Solar or Lunar, but ultimately limited by how many Souls they have at their disposal.

Being Soul-based, they could be based on the Egyptian parts of the soul - Name, Shadow, Heart, Personality, Life? But that also feels caste-y, and doesn’t much reflect their themes beyond the Soul thing. Also hard to define the themes those fit... Could be very un-strict - go with a Hun excellency and a Po excellency, based on the in-universe Soul distinctions? Hm. Hun would be used for most intellectual and social roles, and dexterity/grace-based physical rolls, while Po would be used for most physical rolls and for social/intellectual roles that further a Base Desire, such as hunger or lust. Again, I’m basing a lot on that one piece of speculation....

Umbrals are harder for me to figure out. Giving into their darkside is their power, but Liminals already have the “Increase your power in high-intensity situations” gimmick in their Exellency. I kind of want to explore their Excellencies reflecting the Dark Side by being split by the Deadly Sins, so maybe they’ll get a flat (Attribute or Ability+Essence), so +2 to +10 with an effective cap of +8.

With Deadly-Sin based Excellencies, each one could have a (very short) description for the kinds of rolls that fall under it, making it the closest to a proper Yozi-style Excellency. I’d have to spend a while to get these to sound right, and I might do a separate post for that (because no one’s reading this anyway), but a big part is that each description would end with “... and any roll which the Storyteller agrees fulfills the character’s [sin].” Such that despite a rather short but broad description of the rolls allowed for each sin, it’s fully possible for a clever player to use their Excellency in interesting but character-defining situations.

#this is.... so long #i'm the only one who cares about this but it is So Fucking Long #anyway if any exalted fans are still using tumblr in the year of our lord two thousand and nineteen #feel free to chat me up

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redvanillabee · 6 years

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Post-credit Scene – BBC Sherlock Series 4 VS Avengers: Infinity War

This is a postscript to my standalone MCU meta, Don’t Mourn - Avengers: Infinity War and the Five-Act Structure. The following piece can largely be understood without having first read the linked piece, but I do make small references back to the main meta.

While I was unaware at first, Infinity War gives me a very strong sense of déjà vu. From the marketing to the plot to the fan reactions, it feels like something I’ve seen. And then it hit me:

Infinity War reminds me of BBC Sherlock Series 4.

Fan Theories and Reactions

The first thing about Infinity War that reminds me so much of Sherlock S4 is the fan theories and fan reactions. Both fandoms have similar expectations over what they might see in the show, but those expectations are similarly let down, and the reactions are almost identical.

1. Character Deaths

If there is one thing that both the Sherlock fandom and the Marvel fandom are no strangers to, it is character deaths. Or more accurately, highly ambiguous character deaths that gets written over 15 minutes later, no one truly dies until they truly die, but are they really dead? Scientists can’t tell.

Prior to the release of both Infinity War and Sherlock S4, both fandoms expected character deaths – specifically, conclusive ones that will propel the story forward, launching the storyline into a new era. However, none of that happened in both fandoms.

The Marvel fandom is well aware of the impending end of the original Avengers, both in-text and outside of it. Many have expected Tony Stark to die, and pass the mantle on to Peter Parker. Another theory is that Steve Rogers would die in Infinity War, passing on the mantle of Captain America to Bucky or Sam. These theories make sense both textually and metatextually. Steve and Tony’s arcs are both mostly complete – their trilogies are complete, and they both seem to have hit rock bottom by the end of CACW. Metatextually, RDJ is ageing out of Stark, and Chris Evans’ contract with Marvel is about to expire, with the fandom well aware of his plan to not renew it. It makes sense for the story to be passed on to characters who are still fresh enough to the audience, and can carry on the MCU.

However, Infinity War does the exact opposite – it kills off anyone who could further the universe. Stephen Strange and T’Challa both only have one standalone film out; they could easily carry their own trilogies well into the 2020s. In particular, with the critical acclaim of Black Panther, it makes no sense for T’Challa to die now. The Guardians of the Galaxy are not the most well-known Marvel characters, but they have made a name for themselves, and have an upcoming sequel. Not to mention Peter Parker, Marvel’s star superhero who has just returned to the Marvel Studios. He also has a sequel coming up in the Universe. There is no good reason why Marvel would kill him off at this point in the MCU.

Something similar happened to BBC Sherlock in Series 4. Characters who stand in the way of a story about Sherlock Holmes and John Watson just keep returning, seeming to hold back the development at every turn. Mary Morstan just will not go with a clean break.

While part of the original canon, for many, Mary Morstan is not important to the essence of the dynamics between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Many believe that for the show to continue to be about its titular character, for the story to carry on being a Sherlock Holmes story, Mary Morstan will have to literally or figuratively die, to be removed from the picture for the dynamics between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes to progress. Even Martin Freeman, who plays John Watson in the show, feeds the theory. While Mary Morstan supposedly dies in Series 4 Episode 1, much like the ash-deaths in Infinity War, her death is highly ambiguous and inconclusive. For one, her death is ostensibly the opposite of what the show says a killing shot to the chest looks like. Besides, Mary Morstan lingers in the following episodes. She still intrudes upon John’s life (The Lying Detective), and even narrates John and Sherlock’s actions (The Final Problem). Even if Mary is physically dead, narratively she is not. She retains control over John and Sherlock’s journey, leaving the story unable to move forward. I will further explore this below.

Of course, there is also Jim Moriarty. He has supposedly died six years ago, in Series 2 Episode 3 The Reichenbach Fall. However, he just keeps showing up again and again, intruding upon the story. His recurring not-dead has become so iconic that it even makes it into late night comedy shows:

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2. Suspended in Time

In both Infinity War and Sherlock, characters who should be removed from the scene to allow the story to move forward, do not get removed. These inexplicable and problematic deaths lead to the same problem: the story comes to a standstill. This applies to both the Avengers and John and Sherlock.

As explained above, Infinity War comes to an abrupt pause at the ending. Unlike past Avengers films, where the endings typically point to a general direction in the future for the team, the Avengers stand around, motionless, in the fields of Wakanda. Their fight was futile, and there is no way forward. Likewise in the Soul Realm, Thanos is condemned to live with his regret over Gamora, apparently endlessly, in a liminal space where time does not seem to exist. At the end of the film, everything freezes, and comes to a stop.

BBC Sherlock takes that to an even more literal level. With Mary Morstan and Jim Moriarty never truly dying, they maintain their control over the narrative. Mary narrates John and Sherlock’s actions at the end of The Final Problem, claiming possession of them as her ‘Baker Street boys’, and Jim coming back to round off the supposed end of a show titled Sherlock in a post-credit cameo. John and Sherlock, unable to bring their story forward, are literally suspended in a standstill:

[x]

With a freeze frame where the two are frozen mid-air, the final frame of The Final Problem highlights the issue at the end of both Sherlock S4 and Infinity War: when those who should die to move the story forward don’t die, the story cannot go on; it becomes caught in a stalemate.

3. You’re Not Exactly Wrong, But…

The MCU and Sherlock fandoms are prolific when it comes to fan theories. Before Infinity War, there have been several jokingly made fan theories that turn out quite close to the actual plot. For instance, there is the joke headcanon that Loki will pull the ‘transform into a snake’ trick on Thanos, when the latter comes to take the Tesseract. This is actually not a million miles off from Loki’s attempt to kill Thanos when he surrenders the Tesseract, only Loki does not live to tell the story in the film version.

Likewise, with Sherlock, many have proposed fan theories that are mostly just jokes. For instance, before S4 aired, some joked that Rosie Watson, John Watson’s baby daughter, is a bag of guns and money. While the show does show a real, human baby, the subtext also implies that the fan theory may not be entirely wrong. With the Oscar Wilde references, the show does say that, at least metaphorically, the baby is a gun.

4. Confused, Angry, Mourning

If the plots of Infinity War and Sherlock S4 are so similar in nature, you can expect the fan reaction to be somewhat identical as well. That is precisely what happened. Following the release of the new instalments, both fandoms are caught in a state of what I call ‘confused angry mourning’.

After The Final Problem and Infinity War, both fandoms were at a loss at what they just witnessed. What just happened? Both fandoms asked. What did we just witness? The death roll, the plotlines, they all shocked the fans. The fans also did not hesitate to tear the shows apart. Many have dressed down The Final Problem as something “filmed in a spray painted cardboard box held together with duct tape with a spare camcorder found in someone’s basement”, or a cheap Saw parody. The MCU fandom frankly aren’t any less savage when it comes to Infinity War. I have lost count of the number of times I have seen someone call Thanos a ‘giant grape’ (or other purple fruits). It would also appear that even Taika Waititi, director of Thor: Ragnarok (2017), is not too kind about the Infinity Gauntlet either:

[x]

And the fans were angry. They were angry at the futility of the characters’ strife. What was the point of Thor fighting so hard to preserve the population of Asgard, to save Heimdall, to save Loki, if all are just going to be thrown away in the first five minutes of Infinity War, leaving him with ‘nothing to lose’? What is the point of proving that Thor can demonstrate his powers without the Mjolnir, only to insert a plot point about him getting a battle axe? What is the point of Steve turning on the whole world to save Bucky, only to have Bucky wiped from the world by Thanos? What is the point of everything?

The Sherlock fans were just as angry. Series 4 defeated points made by the show itself in previous series, or what the showrunners said about the show. For instance, as mentioned above, while the show made a huge point in His Last Vow about how a killing shot to the chest does not look like what one would see in a Hollywood movie, that is exactly what happens to Mary Morstan in The Six Thatchers. The show’s treatment of Doyle’s The Adventure of the Three Garridebs is also the complete opposite of what Steven Moffat, one of the show’s writers, said about the original story. Even within Series 4 itself, the episodes were contradicting each other. At the end of The Lying Detective, John Watson gives a lengthy monologue about how ‘romantic entanglement’ would complete Sherlock as a person. That is quickly overturned in The Final Problem, where the argument appears to be filial love is what Sherlock needs. The list goes on and on.

On top of it all, the fans mourned. It is quite straightforward for the Marvel fandom – they mourned those who die or disappear. They mourn for Gamora, Bucky, Loki, Sam Wilson, and more. They mourned the futility of Thor’s struggles, and the little time Steve gets to spend with Bucky. For the Sherlock fandom, the mourning was a little more meta. They mourned the apparent descent into nonsense of their favourite show. For the Johnlockers, they mourn the apparent missed opportunity of canon Johnlock. Across the two fandoms, mourning reigned the immediate aftermath.

5. Going Backwards

Perhaps most alarming of all, the Sherlock fandom and the MCU fandom came to the same theory following their respective shows: we need to look at the shows backwards.

For the Sherlock side, this comes quite directly from the showrunners. Mark Gatiss, one of the writers for Sherlock, said that he had the cast read the script in reverse order during the first table-reads. From there, the fandom works The Six Thatchers backwards, trying to come up with a version that makes sense. For instance, some suggest that a reverse TST could support the Alibi Theory, the theory that the messy sequence of events in the episode is a cover story for John and/or Sherlock having killed Mary, rather than Vivian Norbury.

The MCU fandom came to this theory, impressively, with less input from the showrunners. For instance, there is the theory that ‘we’re looking at infinity war [sic] all backwards’. Their reasoning, similar to what I have argued above, is firstly that there is no sense in Infinity War killing off characters that carry future films, while letting characters played by those whose contracts are about to expire stay alive. Citing the power of the Soul Stone in the Marvel comics, the meta goes on to argue that for the universe (both in-text and the Cinematic Universe) to continue, it could depend on who got turned to ash, rather than who is remaining on earth, forming the new Avengers as they avenge themselves in the Soul Realm. Their fight against Thanos in the Soul Realm, they argue, could be the alternative Battle of New York that cemented the original Avengers.

It is interesting how in both fandoms, going backwards can explain and further both stories. The apparent finale in both Infinity War and Sherlock S4 are the beginning if we reverse the order. Incidentally, this ‘going backwards’ fits in nicely with John Yorke’s storytelling model, where to complete the story arc, you need to bring it back to the thesis, returning to the original theme, only now better negotiated and better tested.

6. Let the Conspiracy Begin

Beyond fan theories, beyond fan reactions, if there is one thing that ties the MCU fandom to the Sherlock fandom after Infinitiy War and Series 4, it is this: the conspiracy wall.

Sherlock is famous (or notorious) for its tie to the word and the concept of conspiracy. From plans to take down the government, to discussing conspiracy theorists, the show does not shy away from the topic. Within the fandom, there is even a subset of fans known as The Johnlock Conspiracy, or TJLC for short.

TJLC is perhaps best known for their many, many metas analysing the show. From the metaphors, subtextual symbols, to the lines and the soundtrack, TJLC thoroughly examines the show to find a clear overarching theme across episodes, across the ‘crime of the week’s. The showrunners of Sherlock appear to be aware of this theorising fanbase, writing them into the show via multiple proxies throughout the seasons, and even have Sherlock directly address ‘the heart of the conspiracy’ in The Abominable Bride (2016). In Series 4, the show even parodied the conspiracy wall scene from It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia in one of its promotional pictures:

[x]

It would appear, that following Infinity War, the MCU fandom has turned into something akin to TJLC:

[x]

7. Missing Scenes

Above, I have outlined how key characters that were spotted on set of Infinity War are ostensibly missing in the final product: from the casting call for two-year-old twins, to the ostensible absence of Clint Barton and Scott Lang. In an interesting turn of events, MCU is not alone in mysterious absence of known scenes and content.

Following Sherlock S4, viewers have gone back to review known Setlock (behind the scenes) moments. They found many instances where content that were supposedly filmed for Series 4 are missing from the actual product. Most notably, during SDCC 2016, Benedict Cumberbatch said he had 29 pages worth of a monologue in the latest series; as many viewers will have noticed, that monologue does not appear in the show at all. Even his Shakespeare soliloquy in The Lying Detective is a heavily cut-down version; it could not have been the 29-page version that he talked about at the panel. Besides, overseas Setlock, such as what they filmed at Niagara Falls, also failed to make it into the final product.

Again, as I said above, it is perfectly normal for filmed content to be cut during post-production. However, based on the information available to the fandom regarding the filming process, Infinity War and Sherlock S4 will have cut out significant chunks – AIW will have removed two key characters, one of whom is carrying his own sequel following the premiere of Infinity War; on the other hand, the Sherlock crew will have deleted a significant monologue, as well as content specially made overseas.

#ThanosDemandsYourSilence

It is natural for showrunners to protect the plot of their unaired content. However, in the age of social media, people have far more reason to fear fellow fans spoiling the show, than the showrunners or the press themselves giving away major plot points. Hence, we see efforts to curtail fan spoilers. Shortly before the global premiere of Infinity War, Marvel Studios launched one last round of marketing. With the cast locked in interrogation rooms and Tom Holland’s mouth duct-taped shut, Marvel informs the world that Thanos demands your silence.

[x]

As previously said, given the scale of the fandom and the content of Infinity War, it is no surprise that Marvel will do everything they can to ensure that everything is under wraps. However, the tone of the tweet and the hashtag reminds me of something…

On 13th and 14th January, 2017, with the premiere of Sherlock Series 4 Episode 3: The Final Problem on the horizon, the episode was leaked on a Russian website. The show, as expected, rushed to damage control on social media. In particular, there is the tweet from the official Sherlock account:

[x]

While the circumstances are different, I would argue that #KeepMeSpoilerFree is very similar to #ThanosDemandYourSilence in terms of tone.

Even though Infinity War and Sherlock S4 are hardly the final instalments, this secrecy certainly gives it an air of finality. Which leads me onto the final similarity across the two fandoms…

The End is Nigh

Thanks to what we know about the MCU, we know that Infinity War is not the final Avengers film; there is Infinity War Part II coming up. Similarly, thanks to Amy’s meta BBC Sherlock: A Drama in Five Acts, we know Sherlock Series 4 is not the final season. However, both shows did not shy away from creating a sense of finality in the promotional material.

Take, for instance, the trailers. Trailers for both Sherlock S4 and Infinity War keep hammering on the idea that this is their final chance, this is their last hope. The Sherlock trailer insists that, as opposed to the game being ‘on’, ‘it’s not a game anymore’. It reiterates that ‘everything they know will be tested, everyone they know is under threat’. Infinity War echoes these sentiments, asserting that ‘you will know what it’s like to lose’, that the fans will know what it is like ‘to feel so desperately that you’re right, but to fail all the same’. Most importantly, they ask: ‘where will you be when it all ends?’

The cast is all too keen to join in the hype. Chris Evans, when asked about Infinity War, says ‘it’s really gonna take the cake’. Which is, I would argue, very similar to what Amanda Abbington (Mary Morstan) says about Series 4 being something ‘groundbreaking’ that will make ‘television history’.

The similarities between Infinity War and Sherlock S4 seem farfetched or cherry-picked at first. However, when you consider how Sherlock S4 is also the fourth act in a five-act structure, the shared elements seem less like inter-fandom musings, and more like something dictated by the narrative structure.

This really will not be the first time Sherlock and the MCU mirror each other, though.

Author’s Notes:

If at certain point of this piece it reads like I am explaining TJLC to those who are not in the game, it is because well, originally that was the intention. This meta was originally attached to Don’t Mourn, which I linked to at the beginning of this piece. As advised by my two betas, I published this part separately because it was not too closely related to the main meta.

#my meta #sherlock meta #tjlc

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