#that is essentially a fool's errand

[princessmotif]

it's really interesting to me how you can tell the level of respect azula has for mai, ty lee, and zuko through how she directs them within the confines of the fire nation's expectations of them all.

azula is someone who really values and upholds the fire nation's expectations of conformity, especially in regards to court. she herself plays her part as she's expected to. she plays by the rules her father sets for her, parrots his beliefs, renames omashu "new ozai" for her father, tasks herself with finding the avatar (zuko's fool's errand) and conquering ba sing se (iroh's greatest military failure), and is consequently ultimately hurt and betrayed when her father punishes her despite this by refusing to let her come with him during sozin's comet and giving her a meaningless title to mollify her. to her, playing by the rules that are set out for them within the fire nation, whether spoken or not, is essential, and to not play by them results in punishment. this mindset was already instilled in her before zuko's agni kai, but it was no doubt fully solidified by witnessing her brother pay for his inability to play the role he was assigned as a dutiful son and strong heir.

as a result of this, zuko is the most obvious liability of the fire nation kids in azula's eyes. he has already failed to abide by the rules once and is likely to do so again if she doesn't stop him from doing so. make no mistake, azula does not want zuko to stumble again. she manipulates him into coming home despite his wavering resolve by reminding him of what he could have and what he's always wanted (their father's respect, his honor and birthright restored, the return of a feeling of normalcy/familiarity) because she loves her brother and wants him to play the role he's supposed to successfully. if she didn't love him, she could easily have taken him home as a prisoner like her father wanted her to initially or killed him. i won't even entertain the notion that she brought him home specifically to take the heat if the avatar wasn't really dead; that is a deeply stupid thing for her to do which would result in her judgment and honor being called into serious question as she's the one who vouched that zuko killed the avatar which would be a failure in her role as the dutiful daughter and honorable princess.

so azula appeals to zuko's weaknesses to get him home because she loves him. but she still doesn't respect him because of his prior failings, so she tries to keep him on the straight and narrow within the confines of their roles in the fire nation. she confronts him about visiting their disgraced uncle in prison, tells him his actions could be misconstrued (although she knows exactly how zuko means them; she wants to remind him to play his part or suffer the consequences once more). she shuts him up in war council meetings by speaking over him so that he won't say something that would result in their father punishing him once more. she attempts to prompt him into letting her know if they should be worried about the avatar still, although he doesn't confide in her since he doesn't trust her and instead takes matters into his own hands by hiring combustion man. azula does not threaten to harm zuko herself if he fails in his role; she instead manipulates him with her knowledge of his personality and reminds him of the harm that their father will cause him if he fails.

ty lee is another problem azula thinks she needs to solve. once more, she loves ty lee, but ty lee has shown azula that she is not a reliable person to play her role as she's meant to. azula believes ty lee's failure to be even worse than zuko's, though. zuko said the wrong thing in a war council meeting because he didn't understand the rules; ty lee understood the rules, and she chose to run away anyway. this is not just ty lee being oblivious, but her choosing to intentionally disobey the rules.

so when azula comes to collect ty lee to resume playing her role, azula is initially friendly, perhaps giving ty lee the benefit of the doubt that she might have wised up, but the moment ty lee demonstrates that she is still refusing to play by the rules azula is convinced they all have to play by, azula turns to manipulations and threats of harm to pull ty lee back into line. like with zuko, azula loves ty lee but does not respect her. she knows that ty lee will not play the role society says she must unless azula coerces her into doing so. unlike with zuko, ty lee does not require multiple corrections from azula. the threat of harm once is enough for ty lee to return to her duties. noticeably, ty lee also manipulates azula a lot when she does so, showcasing her awareness of the roles they're all playing and her ability to play with the best of them.

but mai is different from zuko and ty lee. azula both loves and respects mai. yes, azula has to go out of her way to collect mai as well, but mai has moved to omashu with her parents. she never stopped playing her role. azula does not believe mai would ever stop. she respects mai's intelligence in a way she doesn't with zuko and ty lee because mai respects the rules of the game. so azula not only never utilizes threats or manipulation with mai, but she treats mai as almost an equal and allows mai to treat her as an equal. she asks mai to come along with her, and mai agrees. she promotes mai to a position of power above that of her parents, and mai obliges. she says that the trade of bumi for tom-tom is unfair, and mai calls it off. but it's not only when mai plays by the rules of the game that azula respects her and does not threaten or manipulate her to keep her in line. even when mai blatantly disobeys azula's orders, azula allows it. even when mai screams at her during the beach, azula allows it. mai knows that azula will allow it, too. she openly scoffs at the idea of azula lightningbending at her. why? because azula respects mai and her judgment. she sees mai as an equal because mai plays the game as well as azula does, including her moments of rebellion (this is undoubtedly what azula disobeying ozai by bringing zuko home under false pretenses and directly lying to him is, albeit a much higher stake rebellion than mai's refusal to search the sewers).

notably, while azula declares her intent to kill zuko after he commits treason and tells ozai that she lied to him, even when mai and ty lee take the ultimate step out of line with their roles, she doesn't allow them to be executed. i say "allow" here because she's not the fire lord, so it wouldn't be her personal decree to have them executed but rather her father's. they committed high treason. they not only aided and abetted in a prison break and the escape of some of the fire nation's most wanted but physically attacked a member of the royal family and the crown princess at that. this is a crime that's punishable by death, and yet mai and ty lee stay in their cells in boiling rock, seemingly unharmed given mai's unscathed appearance at the end of sozin's comet. ozai would have no reason to not simply execute them, but azula would since she loves them. it's entirely possible, she was on some level holding onto hope that she could coach them back into line again somehow.

but why does she hope to rehabilitate or at least preserve her friends while aiming to kill zuko? it's pretty simple: when zuko failed to play his part he did so in a way that meant azula was punished for having failed in her role as the dutiful daughter and honorable princess because she chose to play a different role that she gained nothing from playing: the role of zuko's sister. so in azula's eyes, zuko went out of his way to not only lapse in his role as the dutiful son and strong heir but to purposefully fail to play the role of her brother in a way he knew would cause her harm. do mai and ty lee also fail to play the roles of her friends while instead revealing their loyalty to someone else entirely when they betray her? yes, but them doing so does not result in ozai's wrath.

[officialspec]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though

i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that

people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists

for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)

similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime

to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)

of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week

the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you

social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be

tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it

[shalomniscient]

I actually read that jingliu fic for the first time like a bit over a week ago as well. I have been thinking about it quite a lot afterwards. It's just that good. Didn't realize it was that old either.

aaahhh....jingliu....

confession, but i honestly don't have the biggest personal attachment to jingliu; i have her e0s1 but mostly because she's voice by amalee and i've been a fan of her for a loooooong time lmao but regardless, jingliu as a character is so rich to me like........ the effects she still has on the xianzhou as a whole, even after they tried to erase her from existence; her connections to the other members of the hcq; the fact that she's essentially a dead woman walking on a quest to kill a god, to cut into the heart of a star........ it's an impossible task but she's an impossible woman, someone who should be dead, so who better than her to do this fool's errand? nothing to lose, everything to gain. just, chef's kiss, love her in the way you'd love a specimen under a microscope

[evenmoreofadisaster]

Click here for the link to the chapter :)

Edit: I’d hold off on reading this chapter until the issue with ao3 is resolved (´∀｀)

Edit 2: I've posted a copy of the fic under the cut, for those who still want to read it :)

The Fast and the Furriest

Running errands with Splinter was definitely not what One had planned for the day. Yet, somehow, the rat had managed to abduct One to a dirty place called ‘Walmart’ across the city, which had to be the farthest possible route to a grocery store EVER. As if the surprise journey wasn’t horrifying enough, One was practically forced to witness Splinter squeeze into skin-tight jeans and an ugly tie-dye shirt too snug for the fat around his tummy. The only way One could avoid the displeasing sight was to turn around and put on a disguise of his own. 

Unlike Splinter’s bold choice of wardrobe, the rat had brought a loose hoodie for One to wear, blue and way too bright to be an effective disguise. 

The long and unpleasant trip took half of the day, at least. One was stealthy enough to smuggle every item on Splinter’s prolonged list without getting caught by security, but the rodent didn’t seem to care. If One didn’t know any better, he’d think the unwarranted detour was Splinter’s annoying way of genuinely trying to spend time with him. But the slider is far too clever to be fooled by the rat’s fake pleasantries. 

By the time One returns to the lair, both of his arms are burdened from wrist to shoulder with the majority of his and Splinter’s “purchases”. The rat himself carries a single bag into the kitchen. 

“Boys!” the rodent calls as he places the items carefully onto the counter. One follows Splinter into the room and drops the remaining plastic bags next to the essentials. 

“What’s this?” Two’s voice pierces through the near-silent air. When he looks up, One catches his brother’s scrutinizing eye from the entryway, where the living room blends into the kitchen. One matches his twin’s glare with a steady look that reflects the slider’s incredible tolerance for his brother’s temper. 

The stare-off is promptly disrupted when the orange one walks in between them on his way to the counter. “Oh, sweet!” The younger turtle exclaims as he begins taking the grocery items out of the ripped bags. “You got stuff for dinner.” 

Splinter helps with putting the items in their proper place. “Yes, Blue is a natural at… acquiring our necessities.”

One breaks eye contact with Two and forces a prideful smirk towards the rat and his “son”, ignoring the small portion of his ego that triumphs over the compliment. “Yeah, did you know you can get onions for free if you just take them without paying?”

“Aw, that’s great,” Orange coos. 

Two scoffs from the other end of the kitchen as he trots inside. “Spirits, I wonder why that could be,” he declares, then grabs One tightly by the arm, “— and sidebar,” the softshell mutters and pulls One aside.  

“Hey— what?” One protests. 

“What are you doing?” Two hisses. “We have a mission.”

“Hey, Raph. Catch!” Mikey shouts. One looks up, watching the orange-clad turtle toss a jar towards his older brother as Red joins him in the kitchen. 

“Woah!” The snapping turtle just barely catches the jar as it’s thrown. Just past him, the rat faces away from the boys to put some cereal away, one ear swiveled in One and Two’s direction.

One’s brows pull together tightly as he looks back at his brother, yanking his arm free to snatch Two roughly by the collar and drag him further out of earshot. If this conversation is going where One thinks it’s going, it would be much better to talk about it in the tunnels. 

“Yeah, I know,” One retorts. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Two squirms. “Frankly? Slacking,” he bites back. One drops his brother when he feels they’re far enough to not be overheard. 

Two whirls around. “Aren't you supposed to be a leader?”

“We’ve been over this,” One groans in mild annoyance. “I'm just buttering them up,” he explains. Honestly, it feels like he’s done so a hundred times. “Everything's under control.”

“It’s been weeks,” Two argues, “and we have made no discernible progress.”

“Trust me, it's all part of the plan.”

One notices the way Two’s jaw tightens in response to his excuse. One knows his brother well enough to know when he’s about to blow. “What plan?” Two snarls. “There is no plan, I don't see a plan!” Two throws his arm out, voice rising with his large gesture. “What is that over there I wonder?! NOT A PLAN!”

“Keep your voice down,” One hisses. 

“I’m not going back empty handed.”

One pauses and regards his brother for a moment, noticing his clenched fists, bared teeth, and the sharp glint in his eye. The slider counters Two’s posture, leaning back and crossing his arms coolly.

“Why are you upset?” he asks flatly. 

Two bites his cheek. “I’m not upset,” he counters. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Not taking this seriously?” One scoffs, rolling his eyes.  “Okay, you’re not in charge. I am.”

“I am simply thinking about the mission,” Two argues. “To be successful, we need–”

One cuts him off. “That’s not your job. Your job is to follow orders,” he reminds his brother blatantly, flicking him in the forehead. Two flinches back with a hiss, but One doesn’t quit there. He steps forward and jabs a finger into Two’s plastron. “When you question me, you question Dad,” he continues without missing a beat, locking his brother in a firm gaze to make sure that he receives the final part of the message, loud and clear. 

“Remember your place.”

Two’s shoulders stiffen, eyes flashing furiously but he doesn't argue. 

One backs off with a stiff sigh. Really, what does Two have to worry about? All his brother needs to do is relax and let him do his thing! But One could see that Two is having a hard time accepting that. Again. His brother is smart, but sometimes he thinks too much. 

The slider plants a hand on his hip and leans his weight on the same foot as he looks out of the tunnel, watching the Hamato family with disdain. If he could move this along faster, he would. But he needs to be careful. ‘Cause one wrong move could blow his cover and then what would he do? Start over? The likelihood of ever getting close to the Hamatos again is second to none. Especially since two of them are already suspicious of him. 

He needs to change that.

One’s keen eye zeroes in on the rat, who is the more obvious threat to his plan. These past few days, the slider has noticed Splinter’s “subtle” ways of diverting One’s attention whenever he’s about to make a move. Which makes it almost impossible for him to do anything without getting caught— which is frustrating. And the lingering mass of questions surrounding the rat is just one more reason why he needs to be dealt with. And quickly. Before he ruins everything. 

“We’ll get them,” One tells his brother, though his eyes don’t drift from Splinter. “Just play along until then.”

He can’t see Two’s face from where he’s standing, focused on the rat, but One can practically feel the tension emanating from his twin’s scales. He’s not as reassured as One would like him to be, but he knows that his brother won’t step too far out of line. And that’s good enough for now. 

The rest of the evening was smooth-sailing. In other words, boring. One had taken his difficult brother back to the group, where they were preparing for dinner. As One observed them, he decided that the best time to take care of the rat is when everyone is asleep. But first, he’d need to know what he’s getting into— or rather who he’s trying to take down. Always know your enemy.

The slider winds skillfully through the dark tunnels as he hunts for the rat’s dwelling several hours later. He had made sure to note everyone’s whereabouts beforehand so he could snoop around. He discovered Raph and Mikey to be asleep in their rooms. Splinter was on the sofa. 

It takes longer than expected, but One finally makes it to the two sliding doors. The shadows peek through a narrow slit between the doors, inviting the slider into the cryptic rat’s bedroom. 

A sour expression twists One’s face when his enhanced lenses adjust to the darkness. The slider looks around the absolute mess of a room in exasperation. 

How the hell am I supposed to find anything with all this junk?!

One’s claws twitch impatiently at his side as he debates moving forward. But with a lot of mental effort, he proceeds.

 “Eugh,” One groans in disgust when stepping by a rotting pizza box. 

As he explores the dump, One finds a modest cabinet flush against the wall to his left. There’s a sign, sloppily made, taped to one of the shelves, reading: DO NOT TOUCH. Which can only mean there’s something in there that Splinter doesn’t want anybody to see. In other words, I am going to touch everything on that shelf.  

One leaps silently over to the cabinet and rustles through the shelves, looking for something— anything that will give him a sliver of information about who Splinter could be. But after digging through the collection of items… he finds nothing. 

A terse growl erupts from the back of One’s throat. There’s nothing. Nothing. Just more junk. 

One’s hands jump to the next shelf just when something clatters to the floor, snapping his attention to the ground. He tilts his head in interest as his lenses focus on the artifact. One bends down and picks up the round object, too big to be a coin. A medal, maybe? One’s thumb brushes the surface of the object before turning it over. 

Engraved in the center of the stone is the Hidden City’s symbol. One raises an eyebrow. This is a gateway into the city. A key, they call it. The people who carry these are typically active or retired criminals. Usually thieves and smugglers, who like to pass freely in and between the Yokai and Human realms. People who have challenged the law before and aren’t afraid to risk crossing the line again. Or, even worse, the people who are paid to do it— like bounty hunters or agents of the council, who like to zap in wherever they like and snatch their victims. The slider’s brows pull together tight. If there’s one thing One detests, it's the thick-skulled thugs the government throws money at to get its self-righteous shady shit done. 

So why would the rat have a key?

One’s fist tightens around the stone. This isn’t enough. This isn’t an answer, this is just another question. He’s just going around in circles that keep spiraling deeper and darker. Who is this rat? Who does he work for? What does he want? What does he want with them? One’s claws cut into his gloves and through his skin, drawing a thin layer of blood. I don’t need more questions, I need answers. 

A dull scrape cuts One’s ears and he’s blinded by light suddenly pouring into his peripheral vision. One jumps and knocks his elbow into the shelf, then spins around quickly. The contacts quickly adjust to the brightened lighting but his nictitating membrane stays closed protectively over his eyes. The curtains open, revealing a stout shadow in the doorway. 

 “Blue.”

Splinter stands where the light bleeds into the dark of the room. One’s eyes narrow in the rat’s direction as he silently puts the key back on the shelf. 

There’s a pause. “Come with me,” Splinter says. The muscles in One’s shoulders tighten. He releases his claws from their curled fists, eyeing the rat cautiously, searching for tells. But regardless of whether or not the rat has caught onto his snooping, One steps forward and lets the old man take him wherever he wants to go.

They both stay silent as they walk. One eyes the rat, mind lingering on the key. The very same kind he saw frequently as a child, when he and his family were on the run.

There are too many unknown variables. No innocent bystander would have a key like that. But at this rate, digging up the doubtless piles of dirt on the rat will take longer than One can afford. He needs to get rid of the rat before he stops his friendly charade and becomes a threat. Besides, they can’t have any loose ends scurrying around the sewers when One finally puts this game to an end. 

One follows Splinter willingly into the garage, and checks over his shoulder to make sure that the door closes behind them. The slider keeps about three paces behind his target, watching his every move and waiting for the right moment to strike. The garage is isolated and sound proof. Two had transformed the neglected but generous space into the perfect place to work without grating One’s eardrums or burning his scales while he slept. It’s also the perfect place to exterminate a victim. He should thank his brother for his convenient engineering later.

One watches Splinter whip out Two’s keys to the tank. One remembers his brother telling him how he had just finished working on it, but needed a chance to test it out before they could use it. Personally, the whole tank idea seemed pretty useless, since One can just open up mystic portals to go wherever whenever he feels like it. Well, almost. Frustratingly enough, his weapon’s magic can only carry him so far before his heart either falters or gives out.

Before One can close in on his target, Splinter jumps up on the vehicle, using the side mirror as a foothold to reach the roof of the tank. The corner of One’s lip twitches upward in annoyance. He needs to be quicker. 

One joins Splinter on the roof of the car just as the rat finishes opening the top hatch. Splinter drops inside by the time One has the opportunity to make another move. The slider huffs, but jumps in after him. 

Okay, there’s literally nowhere to run, One thinks as he rises to his full height in the tank’s central control bay. The slider doesn’t waste another second after he stands before he leaps forward and swipes his sharp claws at the back of Splinter’s head. 

But Splinter jumps into the driver's seat impossibly quick, dodging One’s attack effortlessly. The hard-hitting miss makes One stumble forward. “Shit,” he curses under his breath, but quickly regains his footing and swipes at Splinter again, who ducks just in time to put the keys in the ignition. 

One misses— again— but he catches himself against the wall of the tank. His jaw is tight as he glares down at Splinter, who’s preoccupied with starting the vehicle. As the rat sits up, One leans off the wall and waits impatiently for Splinter to settle before going in for another attack. 

As he moves, Splinter punches him in the stomach with his tail and sends One crashing into the passenger's seat. “Ugh!” One grunts, then stubbornly climbs out of the seat as Splinter slams his foot on the gas pedal and speeds out of the garage. One flies into the rounded and sealed back hatch. 

Now in a heap on the floor, the slider gruffly and unhelpfully recalls the lecture he gave Two about how they absolutely don’t need a tank, but Two was still riding the high of his looting expedition and insisted it would come in handy. One’s current ordeal would be a great counterpoint to his brother’s outlandish claim. 

As if this assassination couldn’t have gone worse, the rat decides to butcher One’s eardrums by blaring ‘80s music on max volume. While the rodent speeds the two of them onto the streets of New York City, One scrambles to the front of the tank, but slides and crashes into the wall when Splinter makes a sharp turn. 

“What the hell?!” One cries over the ear-grating music. 

“Buckle up!” Splinter shouts, though One has a hard time hearing his orders. 

“What?!” he yells. 

The tank comes to a quick stop at a red light and Splinter grabs him roughly by the belt and forces him into a seat, buckling him up tightly in one fluid motion. As the stoplight flashes green and the traffic clears, One watches in horror as the old rat flips neon orange, ‘80’s style shades over his beady eyes and floors it. One swallows a scream as the sudden acceleration crushes him into the seat.

“Woohoo! Isn’t this fun?!” Splinter exclaims, then sends the tank flying into a 360° spin on the surprisingly open road.  

One grips the edge of his seat tight, claws tearing through the leather as if it were paper. When they continue on a straight path, the slider quickly unbuckles himself and slams his fist into the radio. The music cuts off sharply with a dying warble and soon the only thing filling the tense silence is One’s heavy breathing. 

“What is wrong with you?” One snarls. 

“Wh— rude. Didn't your alchemist teach you a good music taste?” Splinter retorts, making One pause and stare at the rat. 

“What?”

One doesn’t recall ever mentioning Draxum in the rat’s presence. He’s made every conscious effort not to, in case Splinter turned out to be one of those bounty hunters or some shit, always after his dad’s ass. Which One thinks he could be, despite his unassuming… everything.  

“Sit down!” Splinter orders before hitting the curb. 

The tank bounces, knocking One back into his seat, though the slider doesn’t take his prying eyes off the rat. “How do you know about Draxum?”

Splinter’s ear twitches, muscles going stiff. “Uh—! Who doesn't know about Draxum, really.”

In any other circumstance, One might’ve brushed right past Splinter’s awkward defense. Because, really, it’s true. Draxum’s wanted posters used to be plastered all across the Hidden City. He and Two even gifted their father a framed copy for his birthday after they noticed their dwindling numbers. But literally everything else about that statement— the way Splinter said it, the way he avoids glancing in One’s general direction— makes One call bullshit. He’s hiding something. 

One leans over the armchair, and narrows his eyes. “Who are you?”

Tell me, you old rat. I need to know. I need to know if you’re a threat to my mission. I need to know that my brother is safe.  

From where he’s sitting, One thinks he can see sweat glistening under the rodent’s fur, but Splinter doesn’t give him a good chance to wonder if that’s because he’s nervous or because of his reckless driving. 

“I am about to take a right,” is One’s only warning before Splinter suddenly swerves in that direction. 

One is thrown to the left, but catches himself on the other armrest with a grunt.

Splinter erupts into a fit of laughter and One feels his jaw tighten. “Oh, Blue! You are a riot, aren’t you?” 

The slider whips his head around and snaps fiercely, totally unamused. “Okay, what’s the point of this?! Just tell me what I want to know!”

Splinter doesn’t seem to have noticed his little outburst as his laughter still echoes obnoxiously   off of the tank’s walls. “Oh, uh. Yes. What do you want to know?” 

“Who are you?” One presses again. “What do you want with us?”

“Want with you?”

“You have two genetically mutated experiments living in that dump you call a home and you have a key to the hidden city. Why?” He demands. 

“Oh, that old thing?” Splinter pauses as he breaks at another stoplight. “Uh… I think it’s broken. What do you want with that?”

One scoffs, but he forces his voice to relax into an even tone. “Broken?” he asks flatly. Yeah, right. 

The light turns green and Splinter continues down the road in a more calm manner. 

“Yes. I am not surprised,” Splinter smiles to himself. “I learnt very quickly that my boys are very rambunctious. I had my hands full with just the two of them.” He falters, “Although… sometimes I wonder if it may have been easier if I had all of you.”

One could never guess, for the life of him, why Splinter would think that. The very thought of growing up in the sewers with this weird family makes One sick to the stomach, so he doesn’t dwell on it too much. “Probably not.”

“You remind me of Orange,” Splinter says, catching One off-guard and making him cringe. The rat’s tired eyes soften on the road. “He would ask so many questions when he was much smaller. Still does.”

The accusation leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but as much as One hates being compared to someone so small and inferior, he brushes off the jab for the sake of his mission. “Yeah? I guess it runs in the family.”

“Yes,” Splinter agrees after a moment. “I am glad you are back with our family.”

One falters. Our family. One’s stomach twists. Our family. Really, he should be thrilled that his plan is working so well, but the heavy sincerity in Splinter’s voice makes him worry that his plan is working a little too well. 

One scoffs and eyes the rat awkwardly. “Really?”

“Yes,” Splinter says simply. “You asked me before who I am. I am a father and you are my son. Even if you do not trust me, what I truly want is for you and your brother to know that you have a home with us. You are safe here.”

And One is so glad that the rat’s old eyes are fixed on the road, because he is having a very difficult time processing Splinter’s response. 

You have a home. You’re safe. 

There’s a very clear and obvious difference in the rat’s voice. There’s no more deflecting, no awkward shuffling around the truth. He’s being genuine. The thought churns the slider’s stomach.

Still, One’s suspicions aren’t so easily discarded. 

One watches Splinter for a long time before he asks, “Why am I here?”

“Oof…” Splinter winces and rubs the back of his neck. “That is… a loaded question.”

“I mean in the truck. Why did you bring me out here?” Why, if he poses no threat, did Splinter decide to drag him away from his temporary “home”, from his brother? If he’s supposed to feel safe, why isolate him?

Splinter raises an eyebrow. “Oh, can I not have a pleasant casual outing with my son?”

Oh. Well, that’s stupid. 

“That’s it?” One says flatly. He thinks back to the grocery trip earlier that day. “You wanted to ‘spend time’ with me?”

Just behind the shades, the rat’s expression turns depressing after the question, which makes One very uncomfortable for some reason. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Before One can answer, the tank comes to an abrupt stop, sending both One and Splinter forwards. 

“What? What happened?!” Splinter cries in distress, shifting the clutch around. 

One groans and pushes himself upright. “I have a pretty good idea,” he mumbles. Right as he says it, a robotic voice filters in through the speakers. 

“Shopping cart protocol activated,” the voice says. 

“Ugh, I don’t suppose you know how to fix this thing?” Splinter asks.

As One leans back, he watches Splinter rifle through the glove compartment. “No,” he replies blatantly. “Not really my domain.” 

Splinter pulls out a wrench. “Ah, then we will figure it out together.”

One doesn’t respond, but watches Splinter as he leaves the vehicle and walks around to the front, opening the hood to mess around with the engine underneath it. 

The slider thinks about his next move carefully. After some very clever detective work, One’s concluded that whatever sob story motivated the rat to adopt a couple stray turtles really doesn’t pose any kind of threat to his plan. In fact, a devoted father could become useful. 

It takes Splinter about ten seconds to realize One is still in the tank. “What are you still doing in there!?”

As lame as it may be, Splinter’s expecting him to help. Though he’d rather get his head shoved through a beehive, the slider decides to hop out and join the rat. For the sake of the mission. 

When he makes it to the front of the vehicle, One finds Splinter sticking his nose right into the engine. The slider raises a brow and peers into the interior of the hood, where Splinter is working and bashing the wrench into the tank’s engine. 

“I thought you were trying to fix this thing, not break it more,” One chimes in after a moment. 

“Yes,” Splinter says, smacking the engine again and rearing his hand back for another strike. “That is what I am doing!” 

One watches unhelpfully as Splinter continues to beat the tank’s engine into complacency. With unsurprisingly no luck, the tank remains immobile. 

“Well, well, well!” a low voice rumbles behind them. One spins around, eyes shooting up to greet their ugly guest. 

“Yeesh, that face isn’t hard to forget,” One mumbles as he immediately recognizes Experiment 00E1-Alpha 9, or as One remembers Raph referring to the sweaty pig as ‘Meat Sweats’, which he hates to admit is a much better name. 

“Oh, good! Could we catch a ride with you?” Splinter asks the large mutant. “This baby's done all she can for us,” he says mournfully as he pats the closed hood. 

Meat Sweats’s mouth twists into a smile. “But of course. I was just whipping up a meal, too. Perhaps you could join me.”

Splinter looks past him, at the food truck. “Oh, good! I was getting hungry,” he chuckles and willingly walks over to the food truck. One figures he’s probably unaware of the pig’s cannibalistic habits and the slider has no intention of warning him. 

His straying blue eyes drift up to Meat Sweats, whose crooked smile gives One goosebumps. One considers bailing… but a distant… familiar… angry voice rings down the street. Everyone looks up. 

“HEY!” 

One whips his head around, instantly spotting Two perched on the roof of a nearby building. He leaps down with Raph and Mikey beside him and advances with a burning gaze directed right at One.

One winces. Screw that. 

His brother’s wrath is a force to be reckoned with, and One has just spent much more energy than he was willing to expend handling the rat. Number Two is the very last thing he wants to deal with right now, and his brother’s furious march right towards him makes hopping into Meat Sweats’ murder van seem a lot more bearable. 

Apparently, Splinter has the same idea. “Uh-oh. That is our cue to get out of here!” he says quickly before jumping into the food truck. One turns without a word and follows Splinter inside, where he is already leaping into the front seat. 

“Blue, take the wheel!”

“Wait, what?!” Meat Sweats cries in protest after joining the pair inside. 

At the same time, One’s head swivels around. “What?”

“Go!” Splinter shouts, crouching to the floor and hitting the gas pedal with his front paws. Meat Sweats is thrown backwards as the truck launches forward. 

One grabs the back of the driver’s seat for balance, but as Splinter speeds up, the vehicle starts to swerve uncontrollably. One catches the wheel as he falls into the seat. The second he has a grip on the truck, and its direction in his firm control, his eyes light up like a kid with a new toy. He realizes now that he’s never driven a car before and it is thrilling. 

And, he’s pretty good at it. His turns are rough, but considering the speed they’re going and the fact that they haven’t crashed yet, One is pretty confident that he’s uncovered a hidden talent.

That is, until something rams into the truck's rear. 

One grunts as his upper body jerks forward. He steals a glance at the rearview mirror, and sees that his brother and his tank are right on his tail. Through the windshield, One catches Raphael yelling something to Two, who ignores him and slams another button on his console. A second after, three loud clangs reverberate in Meat Sweats’s truck, and One whips around to see three round dents hammered into the truck’s hull.

“Ohoho, so that’s how you wanna play it?” He taunts his brother in spirit right before he yanks the emergency brake and stops the truck completely. The two vehicles collide instantly, with the tank rear-ending the food truck. One faintly hears more shouting from the tank, which swerves but doesn’t stop. Though they’ve crashed, the tank’s strength and speed keeps both vehicles racing across Brooklyn Bridge. 

“My truck!” Meat Sweats wails.

“What are you doing?!” Splinter shouts over the sound of screeching rubber as One jumps out of his seat. 

The slider unsheathes his ōdachi weapon and draws a wide circle in the air, making a portal that he can step into and onto the roof of the truck so that Two can see him. 

“Is that the best you can do?!” One goads his brother, flashing his sharp canines in a toothy grin, which earns a muffled shriek of outrage from his brother.

“You pretentious, self-obsessed, WRITHING LITTLE MAGGOT!” Two barks loudly enough for One to hear. His brother’s next course of action is to pull a lever, which releases metal appendages that reach up and shoot at One.  

The slider veers out of the way and cuts effortlessly through the appendages. When the path is clear for him to cross, One leaps onto the hood of the tank and flourishes his ōdachi. He gives Two an obnoxious grin before stabbing his weapon through the metal, killing the engine. He tugs the sword free and swings it back in an arc to rest on his shoulder. As soon as he does, the portal he cut into the back of the truck blinks to life. 

As the tank sputters and dies, One steps back coolly into the portal that takes him into the truck so he can rejoin Splinter at the front. The slider smirks as he leans against the emergency break to unlock it. “Floor it,” he commands. 

Splinter cackles and pushes into the gas pedal. The food truck surges forwards as it regains its own speed. 

“Wait— argh!” Meat Sweats cries as he flies back through One’s portal and out on the road. Oops.

One and Splinter only get a few leagues further down the bridge before something suddenly thuds against the truck and pulls, sending it into a spin back towards the tank. 

“Hey!” Splinter shouts and One grunts, holding on tight.

When the truck finally stops, One has a clear view of the scene at the tank through the truck’s windshield.

Two stands on the smoking hood with a massive cannon aiming over his shoulder and into Meat Sweat’s face. The tank’s final appendage holds the larger mutant tightly in place as he cowers from the giant weapon. 

“Bring them to me.”

Meat Sweats raises his hands and One barely has the time to make an escape before two tentacles shoot at the truck and punch through its sides. They snatch up One and Splinter and pull them out, dropping them unceremoniously just outside of the tank. 

“Ow!” One hisses.

“Take the rotten lot,” the mutant sneers, although One catches beads of sweat rolling down his jaw. “I’ve had it with them.”

“Two!” Mikey cries behind the softshell. He flicks his kusari-fundo and One follows the trail of its cord behind him as the end unlatches from around the truck. He narrows his eyes.  

As he faces forwards, One sees his brother hold his position a moment longer before his shoulder twitches and he powers down his weapon.

“Get out of my sight,” he hisses and Meat Sweats scrambles back. He glares at Two then the rest of the group.

“Blasted turtles.” The mutant chef snorts and turns, retreating to his vehicle. “I’ll just get takeaway!”

They all listen to the sound of his tires screeching off into the city. After a brief pause, Two turns around.

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” Two huffs. 

“Oh, really?” Mikey replies, unconvinced. 

“It was set to stun.” Two grumbles. “It would be idiotic to murder my own experiment.” 

“What?” Raph says. 

Two ignores the last statement and swivels his head around. His brother’s sharpened gaze falls on One and the fire in his eyes blazes. He snarls and steps down from the tank.

“YOU.”

One sighs and stands, but doesn’t have long before Two reaches him. 

“You’re DEAD!” Two lunges at his brother. One grunts as his shell hits the asphalt roughly. He fights Two off with a hiss, swatting at him and kicking. Two fights back with just as much fire, managing to grab One’s right arm and press his knee into his plastron. 

For the most part, One lets his brother push him down, generously allowing the softshell to beat him up a bit, since he’s down an arm. One waits patiently for the moment when Two’s grip lets up. As soon as that opportunity presents itself, One takes advantage and flips them around, swinging Two towards him and shifting out of the way just in time to shove him into the asphalt with a knee pressed into his back, careful to steer clear of the sharp spikes raised along the spine of Two’s shell. Two grunts.

One holds his brother down with one arm as he squirms. “Okay, you need to relax!”  

Two yelps and flails his arm. “You took my tech!” He barks. “It’s still in beta and you ruined it! How could you do that!?”

“It’s fine! It’ll survive a scratch or two.”

“It’ll take weeks to find a replacement!”

“You’ll find it.”

Two throws his elbow back and One has to dodge the sharp point of its armor. “What if you got your stupid arm blown off, idiot!” Two seethes.

One pushes back and Two gets a gentle face full of dirt. “Oho, you’re lecturing me about losing a limb?”

Two growls. “Don’t start–”

“Which one of us is the one who nearly died in that accident? Oh right, it was you.” One pokes at the folded fabric covering Two’s stub. “So don’t you dare scold me about my lack of self-preservation.”

Two shoves against One with a warning hiss. One hisses back. 

While the boys are busy with their squabble, Splinter walks by and takes a good look at the tank, which has stopped smoking. “Excellent job, Purple. This is a sweet ride.”

Both boys freeze. For a second One and Two stare incredulously at Splinter. When he looks at his brother, One sees Two’s eyes blown open wide, completely speechless. It’s an expression One hasn’t seen since Draxum last applauded Two’s skillset forever ago. One’s eyes jump back to Splinter, who is gazing approvingly at the tank.

What? That thing?  

One scoffs, muttering, “It’s not that great…” as he pushes off his brother, who’s still too stunned to comment.

“What was that? Is everyone okay?” Raph asks, joining them on the bridge.

Splinter faces his son. “Yes, we are okay,” he assures. 

Red glances uneasily at One before he looks at Splinter. “Okay… good.”

Mikey jumps up next to him, crouched low enough to rub his cheek on Splinter’s. “I’m glad you're okay, Dad,” he churs. Splinter smiles softly and pats his head. “Now, let’s go home!”

As everyone piles into the tank, One falls behind to watch what Splinter considers to be their family. He watches stiffly as Two opens the hood and excitedly shows Splinter what appears to be a backup engine. Something cold and greedy writhes restlessly under his scales. 

His thoughts are interrupted before he can dwell on them too much.

“One!” Raph calls. One shifts his gaze to the snapping turtle as he finishes ushering Mikey into the tank. “You comin’ brother?”

One adjusts his sword and climbs into the tank.

[calypsolemon]

I would love to hear your thoughts about the Black Rose arc: what actually happened in the past, how any of the shit that goes down there actually helps Akio, any thoughts you have to throw at it honestly that arc is still kinda baffling to me

Sorry for taking so long to answer this one anon, I'm currently trying to move apartments! Also this is a DOOZY of a question because the tl;dr is my interpretation of exactly what happened during black rose constantly shifts. Quite frankly, the exactly circumstances of Mikage's past is so nebulous, that "what actually happened" might honestly not even be the right question to ask (but we shall try regardless!). Fair warning, this gets long as fuck.

So, to begin, here are the things I think actually "happened" in Mikage/ Nemuro's past:

A teenaged, socially outcast "genius" named Nemuro is recruited by the equivalent of the student council (100 boys) of the past, without knowing or caring what his work is for. He considers himself incapable of emotion, and seems to even lack passion for his work.

He meets a woman named Tokiko, who is involving herself in this process in an attempt to preserve her terminally ill brother. He also meets said brother, Mamiya. Both leave an impression on him, causing him to suddenly understand his fellow student's pursuit for both emotional connections, and their drive to gain power/ eternity.

Akio eventually approaches him with a letter and a ring, commanding him to do something that is not clarified to the audience, officially letting him in to the "council" of 100 boys.

Some time after this, Mamiya dies. Nemuro burns down the building they were conducting their experiments in, which he defends as necessary. Tokiko rejects this action, and shortly after leaves Ohtori.

These are pretty much the things i can say with like.... 99% certainty are actually true of the past. But obviously, that leaves quite a few gaps. So let's talk about the whole of black rose and the symbolism and meaning it presents, and try to see if we can work backwards from there.

Black rose is, mainly, an exploration of the first arc's duelists through their various foils and related side characters. Each black rose duelists not only expands on previously minor character's desires and flaws (setting them up nicely to pair with the final set of duels), but highlights the main duelist's own by contrast. This being said, it is clear through both visual similarities and spoken ones, that Mikage is intended as a foil to Utena, and through him we are intended to understand Utena and her motivations for fighting these duels more deeply.

It is also the arc which begins to introduce the audience to the more abstract nature of Ohtori - where before you could mostly excuse time and spacial inconsistencies as silly magical girl hijinks, now the series forces you to see itself as less of a coherent sequence of events, and more as a collection of symbols presenting an emotional truth about its characters. We begin to understand the idea of "what exactly is happening" is less important than "what is this character feeling and thinking? What is the world through their eyes?" Which again, serves to have us understand our main duelists on a deeper level.

So what understanding are we gleaning from this arc? Well, I would say the main idea we can draw from this arc is that human memory is incredibly malleable and prone to deterioration, and the pursuit of the perfect preservation of memory (eternity) is essentially a fool's errand. This was already an idea introduced to us in the first arc - most obviously, I'd say, through Miki and his idealization of his past with his sister - but it becomes even more blatantly true in this season as we watch a literal dead man walking become so thoroughly manipulated by Akio that he doesn't even remember the face of one of the only two people he's ever claimed to care about, despite his motivation of preserving said person.

Throughout the two episodes that end the black rose saga, we see a distorted version of Nemuro's life, one cut up and pasted over to focus on things that will ultimately drive him to the actions Akio wants him to take. Seemingly, Tokiko is the one he falls in love with, and is the one to motivate him to reach eternity (the fingers point to her, her cup with the lipstick stain, her kissing Akio instead of Nemuro), and yet Mamiya is the one whom Nemuro pictures by his side, whom he kisses on the bleeding fingers, who he tells is suited to the role of Bride. He reconfigures his burning of the Hall as a grand sacrifice at the hands of Mamiya, a necessary step towards reaching eternity like they both want, and yet it was he who started the fire, Mamiya having been long dead, and having clearly stated before his distaste for the stasis of eternity.

These inconsistencies parallel Utena's own, to the point that they essentially serve as foreshadowing to her own end. Utena (Mikage) reconfigures her childhood concern for Anthy (Mamiya) into a more traditional, heterosexual crush on her prince (Tokiko), which motivates her to become part of the dueling system. Utena (Mikage) wishes to help Anthy (Mamiya) but she disregards Anthy's (Mamiya's) personhood and plays into Akio (Tokiko's) desires instead. She refuses to confront inconsistencies in her memories, or the possibility that the meaning and goals she gleans from them may be harmful, because they carried her up until now - this is blatantly said in the conversation between Mikage and Utena, and it is true for both. Their precious memories leave both in a state of eternal adolescence, constantly seeking their glimpses at eternity, but unable to see how they are being used for it.

That, I believe, is the core of the arc and its purpose and the general gist of what happened. I suppose that really leaves the question: what was it all for, exactly? And to that end I say... what is any of the dueling system for? Akio's purposes are just as vague as anything else in the series, and its because he himself is a seeker of this empty "eternity." His main goal is to keep everyone in the same stasis he is in, so he can maintain his position of power, while toying with the idea of returning to his own idealized past self. Most of what he does is cruelty for cruelty's sake, with a thin veneer of "purpose" behind it to justify it to himself and others. It's only when Mikage and Utena both confront the truth of their memories and let go of those implanted ideals, do they graduate from Akio's influence, a "death" in the eyes of those unable to look at the world outside Ohtori.

[the-desolated-quill]

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga - Review

Not going to lie, I didn’t go into this film with high expectations. I loved Mad Max: Fury Road, and Charlize Theron’s Furiosa was a big reason for that. So the idea of doing a Furiosa prequel without the woman who helped make the character so iconic in the first place in my opinion seemed destined to fail, even with director and Mad Max creator George Miller still at the helm. Not to mention prequels are notoriously difficult to get right because you’re already at a disadvantage thanks to the audience’s prior knowledge of what’s to come. It’s hard to get people to care about your film when they already know how it will end.

Never have I been so disappointed to be right.

Anya Taylor-Joy is no Charlize Theron. Her shoes would be difficult to fill for even the most accomplished actress, and Taylor-Joy barely touches the sides. I don’t exactly rate her highly as a performer because in the few films I’ve seen her in she only ever seems to have one facial expression; vacant bewilderedness. But in her defence, she really has almost zero material to work with. It’s amazing really. Mad Max: Fury Road was able to tell a compelling story with very little exposition or dialogue. Furiosa, on the other hand, has tons of exposition and dialogue and yet has no story. To summarise the plot would be a fool’s errand because there really isn’t a plot to summarise. There’s some warlord played by Chris Hemsworth, wearing a very unconvincing prosthetic nose, who wants to take over Immortan Joe’s territory, except we know he won’t succeed and his reasons for why are vague and uninteresting. Furiosa gets passed from warlord to warlord like an unwanted sweater, and then she remembers that her mother was killed by these psychos and she should probably avenge her I guess. Meanwhile Immortan Joe (in name only because the original actor died and this new guy they’ve got cosplaying as him has all the stage presence of an irritable floor manager at your local supermarket) is busy discussing politics with his son Rictus, the People Eater, the Bullet Farmer and that guy from the Mad Max video game everyone has forgotten about. And good God do these guys love to talk. They talk and talk and talk some more, and then Chris Hemsworth arrives and starts talking and talking, and then some guy covered in tattoos starts talking and talking. There’s so much talking in this movie and yet, strangely, nobody is actually saying anything.

This film is an excellent example of the difference between story and lore. Furiosa has loads of lore. Loads of lore. But the story is practically non-existent and the information they provide is neither valuable nor necessary. This film is essentially a theatrical reenactment of the Mad Max wiki. No stone is left unturned. Ever wondered how the Organic Mechanic came to work for Immortan Joe? No? Well we’re going to tell you anyway. Do you want to know how the People Eater came to be in charge of Gas Town? Tough shit if you don’t because we’re going to lay it all out for you in laborious detail. Were you curious as to how the War Rig was built? I hope you were. Because we’re going to dedicate a significant section of the film detailing how it was built and them test running the fucking thing before having to fight a bunch of nameless goons in quite possibly the most boring action scene ever put to film. (This was the cardinal sin for me. I was so bored I actually fell asleep. The only time I’ve ever fallen asleep in a cinema was during that twenty minute underwater sequence in Avatar: The Way Of Water. Dozing off during James Cameron’s CGI circlejerk is one thing. Dozing off during a Mad Max film should be impossible).

It’s hard to believe this was made by the same person behind Fury Road. Back then George Miller seemed to understand that there was no point in bogging the narrative down in pointless exposition or needless backstories. What mattered was the characters, the relationships, the here and now. Remember the scene when Furiosa discovered her home was destroyed long ago and she takes her mechanical arm off, falls to her knees and screams her head off. All that pain and anguish and sorrow and regret all perfectly conveyed without a single line of dialogue. What can a prequel possibly add to this scene? Does knowing that Furiosa’s mother was beaten and burned alive in front of her when she was a little girl make that scene any more powerful? Of course not. It’s just an unnecessary detail that I didn’t need nor do I really care about. She lost her mother. Okay. So? I had already assumed that from watching Fury Road. I didn’t need her life story explained to me in a PowerPoint presentation. I suppose the only thing I was vaguely interested in was how Furiosa lost her arm, and even that is anticlimactic. She basically loses it by accident in a car chase. Now some of you may be getting annoyed that I’m giving away ‘spoilers’, but the truth is there’s nothing really to spoil. There’s no plot. Only lore. Specifically lore nobody really asked for in the first place. They don’t even bother fleshing out Furiosa’s relationship with the Wives. How’s that for irony? Fury Road was deservedly praised for its feminist themes and giving its female characters agency. Meanwhile the prequel has its male characters spouting literal pages of dialogue while the women, including Furiosa, get almost zero development and barely get a line in edgeways. Oops.

Furiosa astounds me. It astounds me that it’s made by the same man who made Fury Road. It astounds me that after nine years of struggling to get this film off the ground that this is the best George Miller can come up with. It astounds me that this cost $168 million to make when it would be much cheaper, quicker and less painful for the audience to just smack them in the face with a copy of the Mad Max Encyclopedia and be done with it. It astounds me that this boring slog of a film is actually getting positive reviews when this is a textbook example of how NOT to do a prequel. I’m just astounded. Apparently this film is bombing at the box office. Good. That may sound harsh, but it’s true. This is one of the most mind numbing, dull, pointless films I’ve ever had the displeasure of sitting through, and I’m never going to get those 150 hours back.

Sorry, did I say hours? It sure felt like hours.

[vacantgodling]

Hi, I hate to be a bother but is chapter 1 of Paramour (hope I'm spelling that right) the only chapter you've shared or are there more posted? your writing is so good and I've fallen in love with the story after seeing your anniversary art. Also, do you post it anywhere outside of Tumblr? unfortunately, the color scheme of your blog and the size of the font makes it hard for my poor eyesight to read (No hate to you btw I just zoom in real close)

hello hello!! firstly you are not at ALL a bother <3 (also you're spelling it right lol) regarding my desktop blog, i bumped up the font size so i hope that's helped it be a bit more readable? i'm planning on changing up color schemes and the like at the end of this year, but i hope the size change makes it more bearable ;3;

secondly, hearing that people like my writing enough to want to seek more of it has me giggling and kicking my feet so THANK YOU for enjoying chapter 1 and the art so much--there's some details that may or may not get added in whenever i eventually make a third pass at writing this behemoth and i spent 6 hours slaving over that drawing LMAO SO i really appreciate you reading it AND telling me you enjoyed it im so EEEE

at this time, i'm not formally publishing / putting out paramour because its still very much a work-in-progress (essentially, i'm working on draft 2 right now bc i'm doing some major outline renovating, but tbh i'm thinking that when i DO feel like i'm at the point that i want to publish it, i'm kinda leaning towards a serial style like @/stjohnstarling's what manner of man... but those are details for several years from now, i'm just rambling at this point) BUT FEAR NOT!! its my main obsession at all times and i have posted a TON about it on my blog. but for your convenience, i've compiled all the 'main' writing bits that i've posted on this blog over the past several years into this ask so that way if you wanna just read the 'main' meat and potatoes that i've decided to release from the vault so to speak... then here they are.

but, if in general you want to peruse my main wip tag, i talk about paramour so much its Ridiculous lmao -> s: paramour and you can check out the overview powerpoint intro i made for it here, just to get a clearer picture of what the heckie is going on lol -> powerpoint intro

anyway though, the list of main writings, broken into a couple of sections. i will also preface, that chapter 1 doesn't make it too apparent--but there is a LOT of sex, kink, and romance involved in this story. so proceed at your own disgression dear anon since i'm not sure how you feel about that lol.

MAIN WIP WRITINGS (in chronological story order)

paramour draft 2 chapter 1: pre-wedding

paramour (title drop 👀 but this scene is gonna end up slightly different in draft 2)

midnight query (amon and erecia talk in some undetermined chapter)

the bird & the worm (flashback to amon at 12)

but i am not (a bit from chapter 9 of draft 1)

masquerade (the first time hya and amon fuck—there is smut proceed with caution. also the latter half of chapter 9 draft 1)

an invitation (excerpt from chapter 10 draft 1)

displeasure (a relationship snippet from an undetermined chapter)

nervous (just hya and amon being kinky)

ties that bind (kink interrupted by feelings from some undetermined chapter)

divine (some sappy shit from an undetermined chapter)

hiccup (excerpt from chapter 20 of draft 1)

AUS & JUST FOR FUNZIES (meaning not in the main wip)

jealousy (amon & hya slums au—where both of them grow up in central halifax)

pleasure (amon’s birthday present 2023-> this is sex/smut so proceed with caution)

a fool’s errand (role swap au—aka the au where amon is rich and hya is the butler)

laundry (role swap au)

wedding invitation (role swap au—amon being friends with myrtus makes me insane actually)

i know what you’re saying (amon & hya slums au)

[transmutationisms]

If the biopsychsocial disease model is ontologically and epistemically dubious, tautological and smuggling moralizing language into seemingly descriptive statements, what other ways are there to understand "disease"? Can parts of medicalized language still be utilized by stripping them of this baggage, or is it a fool's errand?

im assuming this is in response to what i said about the biopsychosocial model wrt eating disorders. mostly what i meant in those tags was that i don't find bps to be a sufficient response or correction to the issues with the biomedical model where psychiatric diagnoses are concerned. this is for numerous reasons including that bps is chronically philosophically eclectic and predominantly dualist epistemologically; s nassir ghaemi has written on this.

anyway, the question to me would be: why would we want to use medicine's discourses in understanding 'eating disorders'? which terms, and to what ends? these are complex presentations because, obviously, there are serious physical complications from behaviours like food restriction and purging. so my point here isn't that it's not useful to talk about medical issues in medical language. (jennifer gaudiani's book 'sick enough' is a pretty good starter resource for patients on the medical complications of ed's, and the physician's concerns in treating them.)

rather, with the 'eating disorder' diagnoses, we're also dealing with the underlying desires and intentions that cause the food/body behaviours in question. although energy deprivation itself can and does intensify such desires/thought cycles, the vast majority of eating disorders do involve some degree of voluntary action and can't be resolved solely through physical treatment of malnutrition/starvation/ etc. on a disease model of eating disorders, the desire to starve/purge/etc is essentially a foreign intrusion on the sufferer's newly 'unhealthy' mind; some doctors will even go so far as to talk about the patient as 'split' into two people: the sick person, and the healthy one. the treatment modality here assumes that the goal is to expel or overcome 'the eating disorder thoughts', restoring the person to a 'normal', 'healthy' baseline.

i know that some people with these diagnoses find this ^^ narrative personally helpful and i don't wish to take that away from them. nevertheless, i believe it's insufficient and actively harmful to some people. it doesn't look at, for instance, the economic and social effects of weight stigma, something that makes 'disordered eating' appear a lot less disordered and a lot more rational and socially normative/enforced. the narrative also does a poor job, if any, of understanding food restriction/purging/etc as ways to manage stress/anxiety/etc, making the 'eating disorder' appear to be not so much an outside forceor attacker, but rather a person's best (though harmful!) tool for self-care. fundamentally the assumption in the above narrative is basically that no self-endangering desire could ever be 'native' to the psyche, that it must originate from elsewhere, and that a person can't truly desire two contradictory things or defend two contradictory interests. i don't find these assumptions to be true or useful (for ed's or for things like self-injury). these are incredibly bold assumptions to make about psychological 'normality' and 'health', and openly pathologise and stigmatise people who do experience such dangerous, harmful desires (and act on them). it's not helpful to sufferers; it's very helpful to the psychiatric establishment.

again, eating disorders are complicated by the fact that an energy deficit itself does have psychological-physiological effects on the bodymind; i don't deny that dialectical nature of the condition. and obviously medical care can be lifesaving when dealing with the physical complications, and everyone ought to have autonomous, freely chosen access to such care. i simply don't think that reducing the entire 'eating disorder' to a disease model (and bps basically also does this, just with the addition of 'factors' from social/psychological sources) is useful or sufficient for understanding or recovering from them.

[shotmrmiller]

ohh one more thing before i go run errands.. it’s cat stuff heheheheh but it’s not plinko related (she’s mad at me rn)

but im having to flea treat all 11 of these dumbass cats and the stuff we use is teeny tiny squirt bottles essentially and i was putting it on one of them and he tilted his head up and it dropped onto his shoulder so NOW he has to wear a sweater and the only i have is a little festive winter one

his ass is not happy (evil man, his name is runty and he would spite god if he knew what religion was)

look at him. festive winter during summer. fool (affectionate.)

[thehoneybeet]

the honeybeet treatment

I started out in the drarry fandom as a reader but the way I actually became connected with the community was as an alpha/beta. (Thanks for your trust, @the-fools-errand!) I still do this and wanted to make a post about it, just because!

I like to think of my alpha/beta reading as a bit of a spa experience. If you just want a little extra shine, I can do some touch-ups and we'll call it a day. If you want me to focus on just one area, like a characterization facial, that's great too. Then there’s…

✨ the treatment ✨

If spag is a touch-up, the honeybeet treatment is essentially a full body experience. I will invest a LOT of time into your story because I love doing this.

Things I can help with include the reader experience, anything that's unclear or confusing, characterization, sentence structure, suggestions I've internalized from reading books on writing, places where you could develop imagery more, resolving plot issues, story structure, bringing out the romance, POV, cutting stuff, killing darlings… etc etc. Or anything else you need.

My philosophy is to be kind and constructive. I will always accompany any noticed weakness with a suggestion. Additionally, the most important thing is that YOU are happy with it. I do not care if you reject all of my suggestions if they don’t resonate with you. I am far from perfect, just offering up my eyes and brain for you to pick your favorite fruits from (or something).

My feedback will also always include things I love about what you already have. Every edit I make, including spag, will always be in suggestion mode. And my other main goal is to be encouraging and offer an excited reader to offset the loneliness that can often permeate the writing process.

Anyway I don’t expect a lot out of this but thought I’d put it out there in case anyone is looking for something along these lines! I always feel so honored when anyone trusts me to look at their work. And I’d love to hear about other people’s approach to this kind of thing as well.

[themoonlily]

Galadriel's storyline in ROP rubs me wrongly in so many ways. Honestly, if an Elf really needs to be gallivanting around Middle-earth with a bunch of Númenoreans at their heels, it's Elrond. He's the young one here, whose angst would be a little more understandable in the scale and nature written in the show than Galadriel’s (not that she doesn’t have stuff to be angry about, I just expect better of her), with canonical connections to Númenor and thematic potential with his being Elros' brother and thus the living embodiment of what Númenoreans crave. Meanwhile, if anyone should be dealing with the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm, it's Celebrimbor and Galadriel - and especially the latter should be the political agent Elrond is made out to be.  For the record, I do not actually condone this idea, but if we are talking in the terms of the story as it is being told in the show, it would make a lot more sense if Celebrían had the role of the warrior princess that's been given to Galadriel. Canonically little is known about what she was actually like, and as a character she does not have the baggage of established lore and how fandom widely regards her role in the legendarium. Galadriel, meanwhile, has these in loads and we know she was being politically active and a wife and mother at this point of the Second Age. Weren't the show's creators harping on filling in the blanks or writing the book Tolkien never did write? Instead they've gone and erased an actual canonical character whose story was never very detailed, and completely derailed a character that does have plenty written about her. As the show's version stands, it pretty much declares the story of Galadriel as a woman with a husband and daughter is not worth telling. Galadriel is not trying to reach her goals through her personal power, charisma or influence but through violence and bitterness. 

And what did the first season accomplish? It made Galadriel's goal vengeance, pure and simple. Even before the death of Finrod, it was something along the line of avenging the death of Two Trees. Not a word about her personal ambition of becoming a queen in her own right, establishing a realm or being a leader. Her story is of aimless wandering for an age, looking for some guy so that she can kill him to avenge a brother who is living happily in Valinor. Now, especially after that scene with her and Halbrand/Sauron, Galadriel's story is twisted even further. Now it looks like it was Sauron who planted the idea of ruling as a queen in her head. And not even as a queen in her own capacity, but as subservient to him (Sauron does not share power, essentially he's offering her nothing better than he offers to any common orc). This casts a completely different light on her rejection of the Ring in FOTR and undermines the importance of what this moment means for her as a character: the temptation is no longer her ruling as the supreme queen, but acting as Sauron's bootlicker, which also makes the temptation look pathetic and thus her refusal no big deal. Essentially, Galadriel's story is not about Galadriel anymore. It's a story about men who leave her (Finrod and Celeborn), or who condescend on her (Elrond), or who use and manipulate her (Gil-galad and Sauron). I don't even know what purpose this serves. Not only is this ship-baiting just tired, but also what it implies about her is pretty awful and humiliating. It's contradictory to everything said about her in canon, or Elves and marriage. Galadriel even in her youth keenly reads and understands people and their motives and she is consistently the one person who recognises evil when it has not yet revealed itself and rejects it before anyone else. And yet here she is, dicking around with the enemy she has been hunting for millenia. It makes her look clueless, naive and stupid, her "quest" essentially a fool's errand, and it paints her later struggles against Sauron not as the actions of a leader trying to do the right thing even though it costs her everything, but as a scorned ex trying to get payback for personal slight. It's as if Amazon was not capable of understanding the concept of people choosing to do good for its own sake, and deciding to fight an almost hopeless battle because to do nothing would be worse. For them, every good deed has to have a personal stake or agenda. This undermines Galadriel's "goodness" (and her greatness) even more, as if this show's version of her hadn't done enough to make her look as bad as possible. And it shows Amazon’s profound misunderstanding of Tolkien.   Sidenote, now that I think more of this, I can't help this feeling: Galadriel had to be the one to go to Númenor instead of Elrond, because show creators were too much of cowards to genderbend Sauron or ship-bait a male/male relationship (for the record, I think ship-baiting or queerbaiting are both stupid things to do). Appearing as a woman is completely within the reach of Sauron's abilities, and he actually has the history of using shapeshifting either to fight or to entice. Hell, why is ship-baiting even necessary, unless to recycle once again some truly overused tropes? (Employing overused tropes in fanfiction is one thing, but I expect better from a big adaptation that makes a huge number of being faithful to the source material.) Tolkien in particular is known for his iconic friendships and love between comrades; in fact, it's the friendships of his characters, not their romances, that save Middle-earth and a betrayal of faith and fellowship is no less devastating. Instead of a potentially interesting and new take, what we got is an entire season of Galadriel and Halbrand getting off on being mutually terrible people, her apparently being the reason he returns to his evil ways, and her agency stripped away from her so that she can pursue an essentially pointless vengeance. Even the person she supposedly loves is mentioned only once in a throwaway scene that does not in any way convince me that she actually cares about Celeborn. Also the erasure of Celebrían (who is canonically around the same age as Elrond) now leads to the logical conclusion that she will be born some time during this show, which makes her extremely young in Elven terms at the time of her marriage to Elrond. Yikes. Furthermore, this is a further violence done to Galadriel and her narrative, because canonically she and Celebrían were together at least for most of the Second Age, but now her daughter will be married off almost as soon as she has reached some sort of physical maturity. (Honestly, does anyone believe that Morfydd Clark looks and appears as if she could be the mother of an adult daughter? I have no trouble believing this of Cate Blanchett's Galadriel. Both of these actresses are/were in their early thirties when they first appeared in the role of Galadriel. Maybe it's not Clark's fault -- although her physical smallness in the role of a very tall and strong woman is jarring -- and instead it's because the character is written as such a petulant child that it's horrifying to even think of her parenting anyone.) 

[newathens]

i have to explain the battle at athens even though i don’t want to spoil it bc my writing track record is terrible but it’s such a ridiculously good sequence like okay so we’re in pjoiv part ii right and they’re not doing that great they’re losing more temples than they’re gaining and their plans keep crumbling and in regards to athens no one even CONSIDERS it because no one not even poseidon is willing to meet athena in battle in her city it’s essentially a fool’s errand. but we have this scene where annabeth walks into the middle of a battle meeting, her arms full of papers, and looks at poseidon with a straight face and TELLS—not suggests she TELLS this god who has immortal beef with her mother over this exact city that he already lost once—him that ‘you are going to take athens and you’re going to lose it’ and then BAM we cut to the battle at athens. ok. and they are already lined up waiting to fight and athena literally flashes herself and her entire army and a few other gods onto the battlefield this goddess is in full regalia in her chariot just RADIATING anger cause she cannot believe that they are even attempting this and annabeth is there along the front line and i believe i have one of the campers give a throwaway line of ‘im gonna piss myself’ or something cause athena just looks that scary BUT THAT LINE IS IMPORTANT because the reader gets to realize a good chunk of familiar faces are not there right now. ok and so the battle begins its RIDICULOUSLY hard but it is evenly matched and they’re fighting and fighting and athena and poseidon get a moment but what ends up happening is that athena and annabeth end up battling each other and it’s CLEAR they’re not going to win it’s obvious but at the last moment the very last moment annabeth delivers a hard blow of a line to her mother and poseidon RETREATS he takes his entire army and FLEES and the reader learns from Percy’s narration that was the plan all along because while they distracted athena they were also taking THE OTHER TEMPLES OF ATHENS including one of ZEUS’ TEMPLES !!!!!!!! athena secures her acropolis but loses everything else in the city and it was ANNABETH’S plan and she did it by playing on athena’s ego & pride!! ANNABETH BEATS HER MOTHER WITH HER OWN FATAL FLAW !!!!!!!

[itsnothingofinterest]

"In hindsight, perhaps not leaving an AOE Hero behind in the parking lot might have been a poor play." - All Might. I love Kunieda (God wish we had him shown off before), but seeing him be the only Villain of the Second War to easily mop up the Heros on his side (No Nomu to boot) is both hilarious and kind of sad on poor Fat Gum's part...and really the other Villains too, especially those who had a Nomu to help them.

In fairness, the parking lot fight was essentially 'we don't know who tf is getting left behind so have to make do' for the Heroes so the odds were against him...but like was there really no one who can do hard hitting distance? Like, Shindo or even Joke's power ? Not hating on the chapter, seeing Toru and Aoyma beat ass is great, but it does make you wonder. Also Kunieda's Quirk is maing me question why he wasn't sectioned off as well if he wipe out an entire squad of Heroes with ease? Are the other Jailbreakers this strong? And do Hagakure/Aoyama still have Villains to beat since there's no word on Kunieda's gang beeted

(Prompted by this post.)

Well in fairness to the villains in every other battlefront to this war; their forces, outside their only real big recruitment effect we saw in Spinner’s mob, seemed to number around roughly 200. Meanwhile the pro heroes (for whom even the average no name is likely on Aizawa’s level and beats 10 no-name villains for breakfast), numbered at half what they had for the 1st war. We never got hard numbers for the heroes, but that’s probably anywhere from 500 to 5000; and if nothing else is at least enough to beat ~57,500 villains and a handful of High-End Nomu. It’s impressive how many villains lasted 5 minutes, never mind how long Toga was active before she was sent to Gunga.

(Of course acknowledging all this kinda kills any tension in this war because it’s clear the villains never could’ve won from the get-go. Even if AFO got control of Tomura (a fool’s errand in itself) he still probably couldn’t beat that many heroes alone. And he very much is now alone.)

Anyway though, looking at all this, it's quite shocking for the clean-up team to have gotten nearly beaten so badly. Best explanation I can give is that the heroes pushing everything through Warp Gates were incredibly sloppy, and then left in a hurry through those same gates to get to the big fights with the big villains. This would leave behind a lot more villains for the clean-up crew that was supposed to outnumber them to deal with. Which is doubly bad when, as you said, they had no idea who they were fighting. Kunieda's just the one to last the longest with those far more even odds in play thanks to his experience & strong quirk.

That seems like the kind of shortsighted mistake I’d expect from the pro heroes anyway. That's not too uncommon in this war, I mean did you know they sent the water hand guy from USJ to the aquarium? It didn't matter much of course, but they clearly only focused on/prepared for so many villains.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

Hey, I can't really find it, could you tell me the order of the farseer trilogy/realm of elderlings?

gladly!

farseer trilogy (assassin's apprentice, royal assassin, assassin's quest)

liveship trilogy (ship of magic, mad ship, ship of destiny)

tawny man trilogy (fool's errand, golden fool, fool's fate)

rain wilds chronicles (dragon keeper, dragon haven, city of dragons, blood of dragons)

fitz and the fool trilogy (fool's assassin, fool's quest, assassin's fate)

there are a handful of stand-alone books set in the realm of the elderlings world, if you want, but i haven't read all of them and they aren't essential to understanding the world.

happy reading, anon!

[malimangle]

Pilgrim Aiden + Sentient Volatile Crane

AKA: I have a VERY long and convoluted explanation for how Kyle Crane could be a father-figure to Aiden that I shared with my two buddies, and I am now deeply entrenched in + committed to the bit. So I made father-son content, naturally. It’s mostly senseless gjfkdg

For this story, imagine that we open with Crane’s backstory. His perspective—this whole deal traces his life from Harran and upwards, his various fights and how terribly lonely he is as he travels through the slowly deteriorating world, searching half-heartedly for some half-baked cure for what he’s been reduced to. Like every other man on earth, buddy.

All the while, yes, he’s a Volatile that goes into a fit of what can only be described as insistent monkey brain at nighttime, but he’s still a man, dammit. He craves human connection, and as he always has, he wants to protect + help people. Unfortunately, he can only achieve the latter half. It’s a half-rate substitute for the foremost desire, but that doesn’t change that it’s better than nothing. 

As we go over his backstory, we view as he tries―and fails― to save a settlement. They didn’t listen to his warning about approaching Volatiles, and as a consequence, they get slaughtered, with many dying entirely and a solid third becoming infected. The lot of the survivors become Virals. He sorta leaves them alone after that, counseling the Virals as they, over time, begin to lose their human minds to the virus (there’s some INTERESTING world building where human facilities don’t fully shut down til at least a couple weeks into the virus, and Crane gets to talk people through the transition and watch them OFFICIALLY die.) 

Well. Some days later a kid comes LITERALLY falling into the settlement, provoking all 21 Virals, and Crane has to put them all down prematurely as they wail at him to just kill them so they don’t hurt this kid.

Aiden initially tries to run from Crane and actually gives him a run for his money, but Jesus, this kid can’t be older than 14, so when Aiden finally thinks he’s lost this ‘weird infected motherfucker’, that’s when Crane springs at him, lifts him by the scruff of his shirt, and--immediately uses his weird telepathy to essentially strip Aiden the fuck down for being completely fucking unattended in the wastes at ‘his age’ and demand that he goes back to his Settlement IMMEDIATELY.

(” Listen, kid--stop screaming, dammit, I get it, I know--LISTEN. Jesus Christ. I know I’m some monster to you but the real problem is the reason why your sorry ass is out here ALONE! What the hell are you doing, kid!?”

“...What the fuck are you????”)

Just imagine Aiden hanging there, mid-air, goggling at this fucking Volatile-adjacent man who is standing in broad daylight and chastising him after chasing him several hundred meters.

“I don’t know what fucking girl you were sweet on here, but I guarantee she’s dead now, and I guarantee that going to have a fucking booty call with her in this day and age is NOT worth your goddamn death. Go HOME.”

Eventually Aiden scrambles together some brain cells thru the shock and he ends up squawking, the picture of baffled indignance, “What the hell are you--I don’t fucking BELONG ANYWHERE, let GO of me, asshole!”

Yeah. Crane initially finds that very hard to believe, but eventually as their conversation continues, he’s forced to accept that, no, Aiden’s fucking serious. He sorta…bluescreens over it. What the hell, he thinks. This 13 year old kid only comes up to my fucking elbow, and he’s out here alone??? Trying to ‘find his sister??’ You must be joking. No way in hell am I leaving this little guy to his own devices.

So, obviously, Crane wants to take Aiden to a settlement to settle in and not be in the wastes anymore, because he knows trying to find anyone in this day and age is a Fool’s Errand, especially someone you haven’t seen in a solid decade. 

He feels a bit bad about it, but mostly has zero qualms about telling Aiden so, to which Aiden is like “fuck you no” but either way, Crane eventually “succeeds” in cajoling Aiden into talking to a Settlement. Problem is--Crane didn’t actually succeed. Aiden KNOWS this Settlement is Hostile to Pilgrims. Crane didn’t accept Aiden’s claim that they’d be mean to him because he’s not REALLY a pilgrim (yes he is—Crane doesn’t believe it! The fucking nerve!) and like…”wHoS gOiNg To Be CrUeL tO a KiD, AiDeN??”

Yeah, I’m sure we can guess Aiden’s plan, here. Crane, however, is blissfully unaware of the can of bullshit Aiden’s about to open. This is not going to be softened at all by the fact that, during the travel to the settlement, Aiden and Crane kinda become grudging pals (grudging in that Aiden is softening to Crane over time and VERY angry about it, and Crane is endlessly exasperated by Aiden’s teenagism but also unwillingly(!!) amused by it.)

Soon enough, we’ve got our day of Reckoning. They reach the bigger Settlement. As we and Aiden both expect, they are immediately hostile to Aiden when he reveals he’s a pilgrim—and our poor, previously unaware Crane, in turn, immediately realizes Aiden wasn’t being dramatic, actually, and tries very hard to get Aiden to get the hell out of there and come back over to him without revealing himself to the settlers, because showing himself would cause a panic. Guess who isn’t aware of that because he’s a dumb thirteen year old and the novelty of Crane wore off, like, a week ago? Ding ding ding. It’s Aiden. 

Yeah, so, with rising hysteria Crane is trying to get Aiden to bail. Alas, the teenager in Aiden is coming out HARD and, wanting to REALLY prove his point to Crane, who has NOT been listening to his judgment at ALL, Aiden is very showy about calling out to the settlement guards and basically begs for a crossbow bolt between the eyes while Crane literally screams at him mentally. 

Right, so. Consequences, here we come. Aiden is so busy being a jerkoff thirteen year old that he’s completely blindsided when one of the Settlers does, indeed ACTUALLY shoot Aiden, right in the front of the shoulder.

A stunned silence. The Settlers look amongst each other, wide-eyed and quiet, but then--as one--almost immediately they decide to commit to the bit. Ohhhh FUCK.

Crane doesn’t even hesitate once that group-decision becomes clear— with some unholy shriek, he leaps into action, and not only swipes the guards off the wall, but flings himself off the wall and seizes Aiden by the middle, loping both of them off into the distance while Aiden screams and shouts for multiple reasons, kicking his dumb little feet. 

They have an argument as Crane runs from the Infected he’s accidentally sent into a frenzy between his sudden energy and the smell of Aiden’s blood, and Crane doubles down—he’s like, kid, some people are just assholes, not everyone is like that and no one’ll turn away a KID--especially not one who’s bleeding profusely from the shoulder, now, Jesus Christ, we got to sit down and take care of that soon--and Aiden tells him once more, this time with incredulous insistence, that no, he hadn’t been kidding before and wasn’t kidding now, EVERY fucking settlement this way is hostile as hell to Pilgrims, and after the scene HE made, they were probably going to be on the lookout!

Crane doesn’t want to believe it, but now that truth is starting to actually dawn on him, and he’s just not ready for it. Instead, they eventually lose the Chase and Crane props up Aiden on a car to help him clumsily patch up as best as he can with the materials he’s got on hand from previous finds in hospitals and clinics along the road.

Obviously, it’s a pretty hackneyed job―especially since Aiden botches the fuck out of pulling out the arrow and he can’t give himself stitches. Unnoticed, while Aiden thrashed in pain over the arrow removal, he scrapes the fuck out of his shoulders on the rusty ass car door and gets some minor abrasions—IMPORTANT LATER. 

Story marches on. Crane tries to prove Aiden wrong about people being jerks to teenage pilgrims, but it’s pretty obviously a doomed venture when they reach settlement after settlement, and one by one, all of them box Aiden out. Crane gets increasingly frustrated, which comes to a head when he comes raring out and YELLING at the guards who won’t take Aiden in despite his injuries after the twelfth turn-away, which results in a BIG conflict that ends with Crane breaking in, wrecking some shit, and carting Aiden away over his shoulder. 

Well, Crane’s meltdown is just the precursor to Aiden blowing up on him, because Crane has only JUST understood what Aiden’s been telling him the whole fucking time! Listen--Aiden’s not sure WHY Crane has been so obstinate about getting him into a settlement, but what he DOES know is that he’s in pain, he’s thirsty, his shoulder and head are killing him, he hasn’t eaten in days, and he’s VERY pissed at Crane. So. While Crane tries to find them a place to hole up for the night and check in on Aiden’s shoulder, they get INTO IT.

This is The Fight. Where Aiden hammers home his goals, and how Crane can’t change his mind. This is the broad strokes of how it goes—this is NOT the dialogue, but essentially what is said:

“It’s not my fault you think it’s stupid, and it’s not my fault you don’t have a Fucking goal.”

“You don't think I have a goal? What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time!? Fuck, kid—I’ve been traveling with you for over a month, you think I’ve just been doing that for the hell of it? I want you to be SAFE!” 

“and I’m TELLING you that I REFUSE to be safe until I see this through, and there’s JACK SHIT you can do about it! Either you’re with me, or against me, and there is zero fucking in between. So save yourself the trouble and just LEAVE already! I know you’ve been dying to get rid of me anyway! (stroke of abandonment issue—Crane trying to foist Aiden upon settlements has come across, to him, as an adult he grudgingly trusts trying to abandon him. He thinks Crane is eager to get rid of him)” 

“I’m not—what?! Aiden, I’m NOT fucking leaving you, you’re injured and I happen to give a shit about you! You think I want to up and fucking dump you somewhere, that I’d just leave you for dead like this?! Are you joking?! (Crane has misunderstood, a little, but he sounds so earnest here that it throws Aiden off)”

“Well—! If you really gave a shit the way I NEED you to, you’d know just how fucking important Mia is to me, and you wouldn’t tell me over and over again that my one goal in life, my one reason for LIVING, is STUPID. You’ve been nothing but an asshole about this the entire Fucking time and I’m sick of it!” 

“… (Crane, being the adult, realizes Aiden is right and accepts ownership of his relentless, though inadvertent assholery) …You’re right, kid. I HAVE been an asshole about this. But fuck, man, look around you. EVERYONE is dead. I have lost so many people, people that meant the world to me, and if that’s pain I can get you to avoid—especially when pursuing it might KILL YOU, I just…I wanted to try.” 

“And I want to know what happened.” 

“(Crane realizes getting Aiden to give up on this is going to take a lot more time than a single month, and uneasily settles into ‘agreeing’ to help him, because this is stupid but he cares enough about this punk ass kid to want to stick around.) Okay. Alright. Fine. Then I’ll help you find her. For real, this time.”

With that cleared, they finally chill the fuck out. Crane awkwardly leaves Aiden to mope it out while he goes and gets them dinner, because Aiden hasn’t eaten in awhile and he needs sustenance. He goes and manages to take down a couple rabbits, raids a nearby settlement for veggies bcus they pissed him off, and Crane goes back to Aiden to find the kid miserably dozing in the big master’s bed, smelling like he’s in pain. He clumsily makes a rabbit stew and brings it to Aiden, who says in a surly tone, “I’m not hungry.”

Initially Crane assumes Aiden’s doing that classic teenager thing and—since he’s still feeling like an asshole about earlier—he’s gentle with it. He’s like, “Aiden, listen, dude. I know you’re probably pissed off. I would be pissed, hell, I’d be fucking livid if I were you. But even if that’s true, in this day and age, it’s never a good idea to refuse hot food. You can glare daggers at me the whole time, but please just eat something.”

To which Aiden says, with appropriate shame and a much softer face, “Yeah, you got me, I’ve done that before, but I’m not being a hardass for funsies right now.” He sounds a little troubled as he admits, “I’m actually not hungry.”

“Aiden, you’ve barely eaten these last couple days. I want to believe you, kid, but you’re a teenager--there’s no way in hell you’re not hungry, unless somethings wrong.” The rising anxiousness in Crane’s tone prevents Aiden’s hackles from going up entirely, so he just snips, 

“Didn’t we just argue about you not fucking listening to me? I’m serious, I really don’t want to eat right now.” 

Crane’s heart hammers a bit, “…Do you think something might be wrong?”

“My head just hurts, and my stomach’s in knots, probably over the argument.” Crane feels a distinctly hard twinge of guilt. “I just don’t like fighting. This is  probably nothing special. I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning.”

Crane eventually cajoles Aiden into eating—he pushes the stew around and manages to get down like half of it, which just worries Crane more. He puts it up in the miraculously still-working fridge and goes to settle for the night. Well. Some hours later—when it’s 2am and Crane’s still in stupid-mode (remember: that’s how he is as a Sentient Volatile—he doesn’t get bloodlust. Stupid Insistent Monkey Brain because I can’t handle violent Crane), he’s woken by the sound of his kid hurling over the side of the bed. 

He lopes into the room in a hurry like “!!! What ! The fuck ! hurt?!” and Aiden tries to wave him off like “I just don’t think the rabbit sat well with me.” But he’s trembling, sweating, listing a little bit, and pale as fuck. Crane immediately feels his face—he’s sodden with sweat, and boiling. Oh fuck, he’s feverish. He goes to manhandle Aiden out of the blankets and curls his hand carefully around Aiden’s injured shoulder, avoiding the front—but when he grabs the back of Aiden’s shoulder, the kid nearly Fucking convulses. 

Oh fuck.

Remember that scrape he got on his back from the rusty car door when he pulled the arrow out of the front of the shoulder? 

Yeah. Turns out one of the scrapes was a proper cut, and it got infected with bacteria. Aiden missed it because he doesn’t have eyes back there and, yknow, the front of his shoulder was in such overwhelming pain, and Crane missed it because he was so fixated on the front too. But now there’s visible pus in it and even though Crane is still in stupid-mode, he’s still got the faculties to think to himself a very emphatic, “Fuck.”

He’s like “we need! Pills! Medicine!” and Aiden’s like “so long as it’s not penicillin it’s fine” and Cranes like “?!?!? WHAT.” to which Aiden explains that, for some godforsaken reason, he’s allergic as hell to the one (1) antibiotic that is still around in abundance—penicillin. Cranes like “where! The fuck!! Am I gonna find an antibiotic that’s NOT ! Penicillin! Fuck!”

They start with the first Crane finds—Doxycycline hyclate. It was manufactured in 2022 — it’s 2032. Unfortunately, they don’t really do shit. They went over the expiry for them, and though SOME might still be effective, ultimately they just barely make a dent in the infection. Things are starting to look dire, and the area is starting to clog up with migrating infected and bandits, so they gotta move. 

Crane ends up rigging together, basically, a baby carrier for his back to keep Aiden hoisted securely on him using bungee cords and other materials he raids from a hiking store in a Volatile Hive mall. By this point, Aiden is so feverish he can barely speak, much less travel. So he gets Aiden secured, grabs their shit, and in a last ditch effort makes it to a Very large hospital-turned-hive, and basically sets Aiden up in a room, secures it, and fucking destroys all of the Infected in there while staying in tune with Aiden’s struggling heartbeats and deteriorating mind. 

Eventually the hospital is secure, Crane reboots the UV lights to keep the nasties out, and rifles through what remains. Blessedly, he finds not only proper I.V needles and fluid, but ALSO Ciprofloxacin, which can last 142 months after expiry before it really is dangerous. It was made in June 2024– it’s February 2032. Only 92 months, well within the limit. 

He sets Aiden up with the IV, and with the antibiotics―which he very carefully coaxes the boy into swallowing. By the time Aiden takes these, he’s dangerously close to death’s door, and not altogether there. So at some point he wakes in a hospital room, with shit shoved in his arm, very disoriented, woozy, and hot.

So. Very understandably he loses his absolute fucking shit. Which gives me the opportunity for some VERY heart-wrenching whumpy bullshit wherein Crane gets to cradle a very-nearly wailing Aiden and calm him down from, essentially, a post-traumatic meltdown. Just like I wish my parents woulda done with me, hahaha. 

Jesus Christ.

Well. Anyway. Between the IV keeping him hydrated, the antibiotics finally working to fight the infection and compounding on the mild effect the previous ones had, and the comfortable bed, Aiden’s condition does rapidly improve. By the time two days go by, the fever finally diminishes enough for Aiden to be fully coherent. He’s still absolutely miserable, but at least he’s back with it, right? Mmn. It would be nice if he didn’t have to contend with Crane’s deep and almost frantic doting concern, which was exponentially worsened by his flip-out over simply being in a hospital bed. 

Eventually: “So you, uh…I didn’t want to bring it up too fast, but I don’t know if you remember―you had a pretty strong reaction to being in a hospital bed, buddy. What uh. What’s going on there?”

Aiden puts down his comic book and squeezes his eyes shut. Fuuuck. 

So they’re having this conversation. Awesome. Well. Crane just saved his absolute dick and ass, and went above and beyond to care for him. And like…the guy’s alright. He’s clearly in this for the long haul, so Aiden guesses he sorta owes the dude the full explanation. So he gets into it. Talking about the experiments Waltz was running on the GRE’s dime for some fucking reason, and all the awful shit he was put through. 

Crane is.

AGHAST. 

 ...I’m not even going to comment on,, all of THAT, because there’s jack shit I can say to--well. Y’know. Just, holy fuck. Holy fuck. But uh. Make no mistake kid―not your fault, I don’t judge you for that―I mean, look at me, how am I gonna judge someone?--and--and those people fucking suck. I hope you know you’re getting babied forever now though. Fuck, dude.”

“...”

“ᴺᵃᶦˡᵉᵈ ᶦᵗ”

“Ur not my fucking dad, Crane.”

“Yeah, I’m glad! I got a bone to pick with that dude.”

“Jesus. Whatever, look―is babying me going to involve that weird baby carrier thing you were doing the other day?”

“...Holy shit, you remember that?”

It does, indeed, entail the baby carrier thing, though admittedly it’s more for the hell of it. They both come to realize that Crane can travel a helluva lot faster than Aiden can, and if they can trade off on who’s leading, they can travel way farther and waste less time. So they develop a routine―during the day, Crane helps Aiden scavenge―goes where Aiden cannot―while Aiden works on gathering info on his sister and Waltz, does errands, and basically does life maintenance. 

By the time sunset rolls around, Aiden and Crane pack up, strap Aiden to his back, pad him a lil bit, and essentially just let Stupid Brain Crane jettison through the night and get his zoomies out with Aiden secured to him. Aiden comes to sleep exceptionally well whilst having the Fuck shook out of him, and only really sleep good when Crane’s there. 

Aiden pretends to hate the baby carrier--he tries real hard. Crane figures out pretty quick that he's full of shit. He lets it alone tho lol

Wintering is kinda cute―they make, essentially, a gigantic soft nest to appeal to Crane, and they essentially hibernate together. Just like that, Crane acquires the human connection he craves and like, a weird quirked-up whiteboy of a son. And Aiden gets an adult who protects him and loves him like their own, giving him a parent. So cute. Wow. Love it. 

So obviously this gets a little fucked up once they get to Villedor almost nine years later. Aiden’s 21 now, going on 22. 

Crane has to make a very tough call―he’s not…going into the city with Aiden. At first, Aiden’s really betrayed―he came this far, just to leave him behind here? What the fuck? Crane quickly explains that he’d love to stay with Aiden, but this is a city full of people. There’s no way in hell Crane can fly under the radar here, and…Aiden has finally found where Mia is. But he won’t find her without acceptance from the locals. And the thought that Crane could fuck that up for him without even trying? Hell no. Crane couldn’t bear it.

And, well…Aiden can’t really argue with that. He wants to, desperately, because Crane’s been by his side for like, a third of his life! The thought of being apart from him after all this time feels weird, wrong, and anxiety-inducing. For BOTH of them. So Crane’s quick to assure― 

“Don’t worry, kid. I’m not going to up and lope off into the fucking sunset. You know this radio station we’re in, right now? I’ll just roost here. Make a nice nest and everything. And when you find her, and when you’re ready to either leave or stay, you can just come visit whenever. I’ll work on clearing the metro and putting in UV lights if you leave me any, just so your path out stays open, alright?”

“...And you’ll stay on the radio?” Aiden asks in this small voice. 

“Kid… you know I can’t actually talk, right? All I’ve got is this weird mind-link shit, and once you’re out of range, well…”

“But I can talk to YOU. And you―you can do clicks and stuff, yeah? I’ll just ask yes or no questions―two clicks for yes, one for no.”

And hey, that works. They get Crane set up, and while Aiden sets up the bed and gets ready to sleep for the night, Crane scopes out the metro at sunset and goes apeshit on the Volatiles in there. Sets up some UV lights and secures the area, if only so his boy doesn’t get his ass handed to him. Heads back. Now they usually share the bed―Crane’ll be a warm wall of flesh behind Aiden, cover his back and all. They usually reserve the Whole Ticket for winter when it's too damn cold.

For this last night, they indulge in the winter cuddle. Aiden curls up straight in Crane’s lap, head tucked into his neck, and basically sleeps sprawled across the guy’s chest.

As Aiden sleeps, Crane actually cries a little. Softly, with tear ducts that don’t work anyway. He’s really going to miss this kid, and the reality of not seeing him for awhile―possibly not ever again, if Aiden’s unlucky enough―is really starting to hit the dude. 

It’s hard to let him go the next day, but he knows this means the world to Aiden, so he doesn’t say a word to stop him. He watches Aiden head towards Villedor the next morning after one last hug. His slowly heaving heart fills with dread.

---

I'm not quite sure how I want to approach Villedor in this one: I DO want Aiden to go thru the story and all that, but I'm not sure how or when I want him to get Infected, nor how often I want Crane to come into play.

I DO want there to be a consistent subplot of Crane befriending a shitload of feral cats and becoming the ultimate catdad whilst he mopes about missing his kid. 

I do also really want Aiden to employ diplomacy and get the PK to retreat from Old Villedor without extensive bloodshed since being around Crane has given him the (in Dodger’s words, coconut-sized) balls to defy authority (especially because not being able to try diplomacy in the canon game makes me very sad--so many human lives wasted!)

And I DO want Crane to swoop in and save Aiden from Waltz at the electric car factory and basically scream something to the effect of, "GET THE FUCK OFF MY SON YOU FUCKING ANIMAL." @ Waltz before bailing and forcibly seizing Lawan in one arm, Aiden in the other, as Crane jettisons them to the Central Loop. 

(Lawan flips the fuck out over this random Infected, and it is utterly, comically side-burnered by Aiden reuniting with his 'dad', Crane, despite the objective insanity of the happenstance)

Aiden, sobbing: so much terrible shit has happened, a random man broke my heart, I fucking hate this city, I missed you so much, this sucks 

Crane, soothingly: If you want to bail for now, it's okay, you can come home with me and the cats for awhile and try again later. We have time. 

Aiden: Wait, cats? Cats, plural? 

Lawan:

Last but not least I ALSO know that I want Crane to eventually give up on totally behaving himself and instead venture into Villedor regularly--initially 'just to find cat food' but eventually just to sweep the Infected off the streets, throw useful shit into strongholds, and save as many people as possible. 

An urban legend starts to thrum thru all of the city--there is a talking Volatile man who eats other Infected, throws antibiotics at people, and gives absolutely fuckall 0 shits about UV light. Apparently he is usually toting around cat products--toys, litter, kibble, nip, etc--and is very friendly. People are terrified out of their wits at first, but the more he talks about his alleged four cats and doesn't rip people into ribbons, the more the fear fades. 

Aiden hears about this and, with a very amused nose-exhale, thinks to himself, 'oh man, wonder who that could be. what a mystery. so intriguing. Ah, good on you, old man.'

[grub-s]

fool's errand. found this bag of "sheep wool" (feels like a downs-type) in a shed at work and took it home to see what i could do with it. full of moth, obviously, it's been essentially outside in a woven plastic sack for two years. picking nice-ish segments out, squashing any grubs i see (there can only be one grubs, the grubs to rule them all), and scouring very hot very detergent to manage the rest. whatever i don't or can't salvage will be, um, maybe burnt ? or else double bagged and binned. buried? composted ? does that kill eggs ?