#things are worse in the 2020s but some things have definitely gotten better

[batsplat]

Chad reed on always the entourages creating the drama. I cannot believe that is what caused rosquez downfall but also given the level of Vale's celebrity and the way he carried himself, I can totally believe that it was the entourage (iPad stand I'm looking at you) that brought the end

(about reed's 2020 quotes in this) yeahhh I mean the downfall was caused by a whole bunch of factors, not just any one thing... like all great tragic narratives, it feels inevitable from a global perspective and yet thoroughly preventable in its specifics, with loads of points where you think, 'oh, if things had just gone a little bit differently'... there's this tension in how, in the end, maybe it would've always gone wrong, but a lot had to come together for it to go wrong in quite such a spectacular fashion

reed's definitely correctly identified one of the factors - the entourages, and valentino's entourage specifically. though fwiw, I did cut off the article before reed predicted the marc/fabio rivalry was headed a similar way (this was from 2020, obviously before the arm injury):

for better or for worse, fabio has skipped the villain arc to head straight to the depressed frenchie arc

regardless of whether this rift would have happened or not, the idea that marc would have gotten a new appreciation for the situation valentino found himself in is at least an interesting one. though if anything, the rivalry with fabio would have more closely paralleled valentino's with the other aliens (new talent coming through, but with the previously dominant rider still a regular winner). now is the time marc's learning what it feels like to come back from a prolonged absence from being competitive at the highest level - and of course with a new superstar simultaneously making his debut

so yeah, anyway, tragedy, you can point to all sorts of strains and pressures and tension inherent to professional sport that were exacerbated by the personalities involved and the influence of the media and the passage of time etc etc. but never mind all that, let's get back to entourages! I know you mention everybody's favourite b-list shakespeare villain, but I'm going to basically mostly ignore him because it's well-trodden ground. yeah, it does help to have one guy who's whispering poison into your ear for a prolonged stretch of time before showing up at your motorhome doorstep with a bunch of telemetry and a dream. and yeah, there were people in valentino's entourage definitely encouraging this path to doom. but what I'm also interested in is the flip side - why nobody stopped him

I would like to submit into evidence this passage detailing the thoughts of vale's mechanic alex briggs. now briggs in this excerpt blames two groups for how things went down in 2015:

the yamaha side (specifically the press group) for not talking him down from the ledge before the presser

the crew chief and other assorted italians on the team for being too "yessy" and not standing up to him

let's briefly (for a given value of the word) focus on the first one. if you're a random yamaha pr person and you see the valentino rossi run to a press conference (given he was late) with a bunch of papers in his hands (well, he's not actually holding the papers in those gifs, but presumably somebody's got them), it's probably a tough ask to expect you to hold up the valentino rossi and ask him what exactly he's intending to do with those papers. also, is he really going to back off because you, random yamaha pr person, have asked him to please not accuse the competition of sabotage? added context is that some at yamaha were aware of what valentino thought about the race at phillip island (which we'll get to in a sec), but god knows if the pr people did. unless he confided in anyone on the yamaha side what the plan was, a lot of them would have been blindsided too - which does come back to the problem of how big a deal valentino is and how maybe you're a little more cautious about questioning what he's about to do with those papers than you would be with somebody else. it does feel like perhaps a bit too much to expect for them to have launched some last-minute intervention, or to even know what kind of intervention they could have gone for beyond low-level comedy hijinks to stop him from even getting to that room. why did nobody from yamaha place a banana skin in his path

but we do know that at least some in yamaha were aware of valentino's great big phillip island sabotage theory, because lin jarvis has very helpfully told us as much (from the post-sepang media scrum):

Q: Do you think it was a mistake for Valentino to [provoke?] Marc so much on Thursday with a very personal and hard attack? Jarvis: There are always many different ways of addressing different problems - Valentino chose to do it in that way. Perhaps that is what provoked Marc into being quite aggressive on the track. I really don't know, you need to ask Marc not me about that. Every action has a consequence. That's life. Q: And did you know before that Valentino was going to be so aggressive with Marc in the press conference? Did you know before? Did you discuss with Valentino about this decision or you didn't know until it happened? Jarvis: Personally, I was not aware of that. I was aware of Valentino's opinion of the race in Australia, but I was not aware... but I was not aware that he would - Q: Don't you think because Valentino at the end of the day is an employee of Yamaha he should discuss before with you about such an important decision, to attack a rider of another factory in such a heavy way [...]? Jarvis: You can't control every incident, everything that happens and you know, generally we have a very good [...] relation, connection with our riders, we talk to them before about things before, but anyway I think this is something Valentino felt strongly about and it was his decision and that's it.

note the use of the word "personally", which does leave the door open to others within yamaha (outside of valentino's inner circle) knowing what was going to happen. jarvis, unsurprisingly, comes down pretty firmly on the side of 'well what were we supposed to do'. given that jarvis admits he knew valentino's theory and is hardly a stranger to valentino's modus operandi - after all, he was already team boss at the time of another tense press conference in sepang eleven years prior that took place in the wake of valentino accusing a competitor of messing with him - you do have to wonder whether yamaha could not have tried a little harder to stop valentino. but again, accounting for the power of valentino's status and the power of his character, I'm personally unconvinced yamaha could've done much to convince valentino to change his mind

so then: the italians. a little bit of context - briggs started working with crew chief jerry burgess in 1994 and both of them were on mick doohan's team for all of his five 500cc titles. when doohan's injuries forced his retirement, valentino inherited his championship-winning team upon moving up to 500cc. jb was vale's very first crew chief in the premier class, and him as well as briggs have been working with vale since december 1999. understandably, this is a very tightly-knit group. it is one that made the jump to yamaha with valentino - here's just a quick excerpt (also from oxley's valentino rossi: all his races) about briggs' thoughts on that move:

When Valentino decided to defect to Yamaha, he was determined to have his crew go with him. Only one stayed at HRC. "We first got to know about the Yamaha deal in Portugal, I think [September 2003]," Briggs continues. "I wanted to stay with JB, because I hadn't finished learning what I wanted to learn. "I remember a clandestine meeting in the car park at Phillip Island, about salaries and how everything was going to work. It was really exciting. When I very first started working with Honda the whole group was very much a team. Towards the end we felt like it started to become a bit us and them: the engineers and management, then the mechanics and the riders. They'd sort of got too big for their boots - they'd designed this wonderful bike, so it was like it had nothing to do with us. That made it easier to leave.

and also about the move to yamaha, from the 2020 barker biography of valentino:

But with his trusted crew chief Jerry Burgess and most of his other team members from the Honda garage agreeing to defect with him, Rossi had the crew he needed, not only to win but also to enjoy his racing. It was a heartening display of loyalty and something of a risk for all involved. ‘When I announced to the mechanics that I was going with Valentino they said, “I’m coming too,”’ Burgess later explained. ‘Some of those guys were leaving very secure jobs and taking a big gamble.’

the group also survived the move to ducati (obviously a deeply frustrating two years not just for the guy riding the bike) and the move back to yamaha. but then, valencia 2013, valentino announced his decision to fire jb in a press conference organised for the pair of them. his 2013 season had been deeply frustrating - yes, he had gotten a podium in his first race beating both marc and dani, but after that generally speaking he couldn't come close to matching the other aliens when healthy. he was comfortably the fourth best rider that year, scrapping and clawing his way through midfield battles and having to rely on misfortunes befalling the three title contenders to achieve his podiums and his sole victory at assen. he was considering retiring at the end of the 2014 season once his current contract expired, but wanted to try everything he could to see whether he could be competitive again against the world's very best. and so, he made the decision to roll the dice and get himself a new crew chief, the italian silvano galbusera

now I have to say, personally I have a lot of time for this decision (even if it was maybe not... uh, enacted in the most graceful of manners, given how sudden it was). I come from a sports background where a certain ruthlessness in personnel decisions is encouraged and generally praised - if something isn't working, you should have the courage to make a change, even if it's deeply uncomfortable (including on an interpersonal level). also, while it was a sudden departure, it's not like burgess was that keen on sticking around much longer (again from the same oxley book):

Valentino ended his collaboration very suddenly at the end of 2013. Burgess was shocked but not too much, because he already knew that he was coming to the end of his own career. "When it ended for me I'd already been doing it 30-odd years and I'd told Valentino a few weeks earlier that I wasn't going to sign any more multi-year contracts. I was 60 by then, so I'd go year by year. I'd already signed a contract for 2014, but I would've thought if we hadn't had any more success by then that there wasn't much point in continuing. I felt we would win more races but I was more doubtful about championships. "I'd read enough sporting biographies to know that sportsmen change their coaches towards the end of their careers. It can give them a spike in results but it doesn't change the overall story. Looking back, Valentino's career went on longer than I expected. He enjoyed some success but no more championships and that's what you race for. Of course he was in the unique position of being able to get a factory bike until he retired. He was very special and deserved everything he got."

which, look. again, personal bias, but to me it's reasonable to part ways with somebody who doesn't think any more titles are plausible, because at that point it's just somebody who has a very different view on your career than you do and may well not stick around for much longer anyway. also, at the end of the day, jb was wrong! valentino came extremely close to winning another title, and just because he didn't, doesn't change the fact he could have. if it had rained on the 8th of november 2015 in valencia, we might be having a very different conversation. (or if they hadn't changed the bloody qualifying format post-2012.) honestly, if the 2016 and to a lesser extent the 2017 season had gone just a little differently - a working bike in mugello here and an unbroken leg there - he could have been a genuine title threat in two more seasons. in any case, what it does show is that valentino even at the end of 2013 was still as determined as ever, was ready to engage in what was a huge gamble (given how almost all his success had come with the highly decorated jb) on the off chance he might find what it took to win again. this will not have been an easy decision for valentino. here's a write-up of the presser at valencia, that stresses how uncomfortable the occasion was, how surprising a decision it was to jb, but how publicly at least there was a lack of recriminations (which, to be fair, wouldn't be much fun to do in a shared presser):

(you'll note that the phrasing in the presser about athletes attempting to extend their carrers by changing things up is echoed in what he says in that book interview where he adds that it doesn't change the overall story, again suggesting he didn't really believe valentino would be competitive. he also uses the same phrasing in ANOTHER interview that confirms as much, but I think you get the point.) valentino said at the time, "it was a very difficult decision for me because I have a great history with jeremy. he is not just my chief mechanic. he is like part of my family. my father in racing". this is somebody he'd been working with since age 21, somebody who is not only revered within the paddock for his work with several of the sport's greats but is also a man who valentino obviously has a close personal connection to. meeting for the first time when vale snuck into the honda pit to check out the bike he might ride next season, hitting it off immediately, countless rowdy dinners together, parties, jb and another older colleague sitting back when food fights started, watching valentino grow up, working with him throughout all his big manufacturer switches, all his successes and all his failures... as much as anything else, it's evidence of how strong vale's desire to win was, how determined he continued to be, to make this choice at this stage of his career. and jb was open to the idea (at least publicly) that it might end up being a smart call:

the 'dirtiest' part of the whole affair is how it was actually carried out - it's not great form to tell your crew chief the day before you end up doing a press conference together to announce your choice. for whatever it's worth, this is how valentino justified the timeline:

and lastly, which I think is the most key part, is valentino's belief. because at the end of the day, the only reason why he's doing any of this, and the only reason why what was to come was possible at all, is that he himself still thought that he could challenge for another title - as much as that belief had come under strain:

now what this piece also goes on to say is that nobody believes this will work. nobody believes that firing jb will lead to better results. people expect that this is going to lead to his retirement, quite possibly at the end of 2014. it's worth just remembering sometimes how extraordinary valentino's return to the top of the game post-2013 really was, how it went against how we expect a rider's competitive lifecycle to work, went far beyond the longevity exhibited by any top rider before or since - all while going up against riders who are widely believed to be some of the best to ever do it. valentino beat jorge in both 2014 and 2016, and remains one of two people to outscore prime marc marquez over the course of a season. not to engage in too much rossi prop here, but sepang 2015 can't really be understood without all the frustration that led up to it, to this one golden chance, this miracle that everybody had believed to be impossible (sometimes even valentino). this wasn't supposed to be happening. it was happening. and then, so so close to the finish line, valentino could feel it slipping, slipping, slipping away

but of course, we still don't know whether changing crew chiefs is the key factor that made him competitive again. maybe he just needed a bit longer to get back into the swing of things post-ducati disaster. maybe the bikes just started to suit him better. hey, maybe it was that nifty exercise regime he'd engaged in a wee spot of espionage for so that he could pinch it off his teammate. what we can say, however, is that valentino's choice both tells us a lot about his mindset, as well as (to finally bring us back to the actual point of this post) representing a massive shift in his 'entourage'. this is what briggs is referring to in his quote - the italians. the new crew chief. the people who couldn't stand up to valentino. now obviously, as mentioned above briggs had worked with jb for the better part of twenty years and can hardly be considered a neutral party. here were briggs' feelings on the matter (yeah it's from the same oxley book again, I got it new for eighteen quid which is a very generous price, would recommend):

When JB was out at the end of 2013 it was like losing my mechanic dad. I remember being in the garage when we found out about it. Then they arranged a kind of farewell, a kind of hodgepodge farewell. It was terrible, I didn't like any of it. I was just hiding behind one of the bikes in the garage, crying, going, what's going on here? It didn't seem right to me. I think maybe Valentino thought he would get faster again sooner, but I think it took at least a year to get the taste of the Ducati out of his mouth. I think if he'd stayed with JB we would've won the championship in 2015.

which. look. we don't have time to unpack all that. but. the point is that obviously briggs wasn't exactly a massive fan of the change within valentino's team, and his comments about the 2015 season do have to be read with that in mind. as to whether vale really would have done better in 2015 with jb at his side, your guess is as good as mine. all that being said, a part of me wonders how much losing that grounding presence enabled valentino's late-2015 spiral. maybe not in terms of talking valentino out of the great big fluctuating lap times treachery theory - to state the obvious, valentino got himself involved in plenty of drama during jb's time as a crew chief. jb himself occasionally helped add fuel to the fire in those feuds, like his infamous comment about how he would be able to fix the ducati's issues in 80 seconds that casey still brings up every three business days (the comments were poorly phrased but also somewhat taken out of context, in that jb was talking about a specific set-up problem). he's generally been pretty happy to be forthright about valentino's rivals, for instance this about casey:

My feeling at the time was that Casey probably only had one game plan, and having watched Casey over the years, he doesn't have a plan B. If it doesn't go his way from the outset, it's probably one of the weaknesses that he had through the youth that he had, through the lack of experience that he had. That's not a criticism of him per se, he was still only 22 at the time.

(this is about laguna seca 2008 and how he helped valentino win that race, including in plotting out vale's rather ruthless tactics - which casey was of course not exactly a fan of.) or these. uh. harsh comments about dani from spring 2010:

Q: Is that atmosphere or track knowledge? Is it like the Spanish finding something extra at the racetracks in Spain? JB: Well, therein we show the weakness, don't we? If you can get up on that weekend, on the technical racetracks of Spain, why can't you get up on the technical racetracks like Australia, where the Italians do? Lorenzo is a guy who will and does. Stoner has been able to get up on tracks all over the world. Unfortunately, Dani Pedrosa's into his 6th year in MotoGP, and he's won 8 races, Jorge Lorenzo's two months into his 3rd and he's won 6. It's night and day between those two, is the way I see it. Dani's an extremely fast rider, but a shockingly poor racer. Q: Were you surprised at Jerez [2010] when Pedrosa fought back when Lorenzo passed him? JB: When did Dani fight back? With two laps to go, and he didn't even get close enough to try to come back. Dani has never been a fighter in races, he's a lovely kid, don't get me wrong, but you can see that Lorenzo, having Pedrosa in front of him, it was never going to be the way he was going to finish that race. He was going to finish on the ground or he was going to finish in front of Pedrosa. That's the sort of race that we want, we had that with Biaggi and Valentino, and from history with Schwantz and Rainey. All the good riders have always had somebody they have had to put the target on the back of. It was Doohan and Gardner, and Doohan won that battle hands down, and I think Jorge Lorenzo's going to win this battle [with Pedrosa] hands down.

kind of a dick! so his attitude to valentino being valentino has generally been a) well having enemies is good, actually, with an added slice of b) good luck to his enemies :) - see also this quote (from the barker biography) in the context of the gibernau rivalry:

And that made Rossi even more dangerous, as Jerry Burgess pointed out: ‘Valentino is the sort of rider I wouldn’t want to get angry. He can take you apart on the track.’

so yes, jb is also perfectly brutal in his own right, as you presumably have to be to work alongside valentino so closely for so long. he is, however, also somebody valentino has a massive amount of respect for, somebody who helped turn him into a legend and is responsible for a lot of vale's success - not least, of course, in the pivotal move to yamaha. he was replaced by a man of a far far lesser stature in the sport, one who presumably would have been grateful to valentino for the biggest job he was ever going to get. if briggs is right and there was a shift in valentino in 2015, surrounded as he was by italians (derogatory) who could not stand up to him, who allowed valentino to insist on war and peace on the pit boards, to focus more and more on things that had nothing to do with riding... it would be going a little too far to say that valentino was missing an adult in the room given he was, in fact, in his thirties and should have been capable of being that adult. and who knows what jb would have said or thought or done about the great big childhood hero deception theory. but sepang 2015 was the culmination of a lot of things, including a pressure cooker of a season that grew more and more tense and put more and more stress on everyone involved - perhaps for none more so than valentino. maybe, just maybe, if he'd had somebody around him with fifteen years of experience in handling him, who could have just occasionally told him to knock it off, to concentrate on the racing, to keep things simple (always jb's defining philosophy), to maybe not get so wrapped up in the great big spanish collusion theory...

or maybe it wouldn't have mattered! maybe we're getting cause and effect all wrong here; maybe valentino was deliberately fashioning his entourage into one that was only going to give him positive feedback. maybe he would have just stopped listening to jb, maybe the very decision to fire jb makes it clear he was no longer interested in what jb had to say. it's a tragedy, after all! maybe it was always going to go like this. maybe it was always going to end like this

speaking of entourages, marc's manager played a bit of a cameo role in fanning the flames just a little further (article from marca, 26/10/2015):

alzamora obviously will be somebody valentino is familiar with, having raced him in 125cc and also having just coexisted in the paddock over the years. valentino could of course be lying, but idk, why would he? he's already made his case by this point, and what if alzamora were to contradict him? if it's true and this conversation did happen, you do have to say it's a spectacularly unhelpful intervention from alzamora. even if marc was mad at valentino, why the hell are you telling valentino this AFTER sepang 2015? what's the plan here buddy

^ 1999 world champions: alzamora in 125cc, vale in 250cc and alex criville in 500cc. people think motogp lore is complicated but if you know like, five guys, you're set for about twenty years of drama

which does get to the heart of the matter - a lot of these people have big egos and their own agendas and they love to run their mouths. they like talking a big game and getting involved in things they really shouldn't be getting involved in. is reed right that these people in the riders' entourages 'created the drama'? well, no, I think the two men at the centre of this particular tragedy were plenty capable of doing that themselves. nevertheless, you can point to how professional sports (and motogp in particular) forces you to rely heavily on a small group of people to keep you sane at the centre of the storm, and the risks that can emerge when that small group collectively unmoors itself from reality. you can point to the perils of fame, both in making your reliance on your inner circle so unnegotiable as well as in providing you with the status and power and ego to ignore anyone who might wish to change your mind. you can point to specific figures in this story who managed to incite the conflict between the two of them, as well as how the pressure cooker competitive environment they were operating within helped set up the ultimate catastrophe. you can point to how valentino lacked anyone with the power to stop him - both in the direct sense of forcing him to reconsider and the indirect sense of commanding his respect enough to make him see sense. maybe, just like in 2004, valentino had simply been "looking for an excuse" and he was always headed down this path. or maybe if somebody had just held him back a little that year, kept him focused on his riding, maybe if the right person had intervened at the right time...

maybe, maybe, maybe. that's why it's a tragedy

[vodid]

I really hope this doesn't come across wrong because I don't mean any shade or criticism, just genuinely curious. Why have you progressively muted color in your artwork over the years? Again, I don't mean anything negative. Your artwork is truly gorgeous, and the softer colors suit your style and make it stand out. I'm just genuinely curious since you've mentioned it yourself several times, and I'm someone who struggles with color theory to begin with. Is it a conscious choice, brighter palettes being overstimulating, some combination, etc.? Thank you for sharing your art, and I apologize profusely if this was a bad question to ask.

you're all good! i love sharing my journey. i get this question a lot and all i can really say is uh my brain took color theory a little too seriously and now it can't stop its subconscious descent

basically, once i learned color theory in 2019/2020, my brain hooked onto that concept and could match a lot of colors to a specific hue in the canvas

unfortunately for me, this extended to clip studio paint's UI (and the gray canvas i'd start out with) and it started to influence my palettes. gradually, as i got better with color, the desaturation/low contrast took over because of it. and it just progressively gets worse lol

my old laptop (used 2015–early 2020) had the WORST display for art with insanely inaccurate colors, so i wasn't able to delve too much into less intense palettes until i had gotten my gaming laptop in june 2020. along with that, the UI of my old laptop's clip studio was much lighter and higher contrast than that of its current one

here is a great example of how my art's progressed over time

i think a major pivotal point into my current style (which if you asked me at the time, i would've said nah my style was already desaturated oh boy was it not looking at my art now) was doing huevember, where i had created my own prompts with muted colors. the extreme palette of that event just absolutely set my brain on its path and you can tell by the end of that month (done bottom right first, top left last)

i do find it a lot easier on the eyes, which absolutely is a reason why i still follow it so strongly. i don't do well with bright screens, which is why i ditched the white canvas SO quickly in 2017 when i first started out. funny enough, nowadays i have to turn my brightness up so far just to be able to better see my art ...which absolutely kills my eyes if i switch to my light mode browser or something lol

my art's definitely softened up too since a) switching from pencil to gouache to rectangle brush, and b) colored lineart and then painting over lineart. it's a combination of things, yes but mostly just my brain like to play "match the colors" n all ahaha

that's my ramble 😌 thank you! <3

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

I've been in a very odd mood or at least have felt odd all day. I think it just has something to do with the fact that the year is ending. One more day of winter break tomorrow and then Monday back to work. I am definitely not ready to go back to work. I did not miss the kids at all.😅

I'm not sure I'm able to gauge what kind of year this has been.

I have been relatively healthy. I have not been in the hospital. And I have not missed many days of work. That has been a blessing.

My eyesight has gotten worse but some days it is better. I am hoping a corneal transplant this coming year will change that and will help me have better eyesight everyday.

I think most of my mobility problems has really been chalked up to anxiety. Because instead of fight or flight, with me it is freeze and I cannot move when I am anxious. I think if I can maybe up my dose of anti-anxiety meds it will help me.

I did manage to get on some ADD meds but so far they have not done anything, but of course it is a very low starter dose.

We lost our oldest cat, Gray, in April. We had him for 14 years and he was not a kitten when we found him so who knows how old he actually was. It still hurts a lot because he died of liver and kidney failure. And I keep wishing that we could have done something for him, but we are just so poor.

This month we finally got a new cat and he is the sweetest, most docile, lovable thing in the world. All he wants to do is eat and snuggle. The other cats have not been very welcoming but I'm hoping they get used to him soon.

It's been a very rough year teaching the covid generation, who are emotionally first graders, intellectually third graders, but physically 5th graders.

We have a new principal and that has been pretty good. I am still shell-shocked at how vicious the previous principal was with me during my last evaluation in May.

I am old and disabled enough at this point in my life that I know teaching is pretty much all I'm going to be able to do for the rest of my life. But that is a good thing because it is what I love and it is what I have wanted to do since the early 2000s and I am very very lucky to be able to have a job doing it.

However it is daunting to grow old. Whoever said growing old is not for sissies definitely knew what they were talking about. It frustrates and terrifies my husband and he cannot deal with it at all. He is constantly worried about me and then blames me for that worry as if this is something I have chosen to do just to spite him.

In years previous to covid I would make a great countdown of how many movies, live wrestling events and concerts I have gone to. This year I have not seen one single movie in a movie theater. There is not one in town or at least wasn't until recently. And I cannot see well enough to drive myself out of town anymore. Plus it takes a lot of money to do that: gas money, $30 for the tickets, $30 for lunch or dinner, $20 for popcorn & a soda. Since we have moved into a bigger house where we are paying for everything: rent water garbage electricity Etc there is not a penny to spare.

But we were lucky enough to go to one amazing concert(Def Lep/Joan Jett/Poison, Motley Crue).

I'm just extremely grateful to have a job, to be healthy, and still be alive.

I'm hoping for a blessed 2023 for everyone.

As someone born in '70s I could not even have conceived of living this long to be able to even say that I lived into the 2020s---- if I stopped think about it too much it blows my mind.

[marcianoliterati]

I’ve been a fan of the shan and ryan duo for a while. Found them late 2019, mostly through tumblr showing me funny gifs, and they kept me company through 2020. 

So I was excited to read the book. Someone said the audiobook was better, so i got that, and they were right. It’s more fun to hear them talking shit. 

What I like about the book is that, it’s not the same format as the series, where it’s them talking about a crime or mystery, here, there is a narrator trying to write a serious book and shane and ryan sitting on his shoulders bantering. At least that’s what it feels like.

I also read the narrator is like the guy from some true crime series like forensic files or something, which feels very appropriate. 

It was a lot of fun to read, gave me new places to read about, and i think it’ll join my rotations of book i put on when i need some noise or i’m trying to sleep. They already feature on my yt sleep playlist. Though that’s mostly q&a’s and too many spirits.

“What’s in a name?” by Cyril M. Harris

I picked this up in some bookshop in london, don’t remember where but i think it was a museum. It’s a history of why tfl stops and stations have the names they have.

Where did elephant and castle came from, king’s cross, aldgate and so on. 

It’s a fairly quick read, but it gives you enough info to read more on your own, so you can go and make notes of all the things you wanna read about. Had a lot of fun reading it, i’d say it’s definitely for curious people who spend a lot of time in wikipedia and googling stuff. 

4 stars caused i did wish it was longer.

“The Demon-Haunted world: science as a candle in the dark” by Carl Sagan 

Is tragically prescient.

He talks about the dangers on misinformation, where he has encountered it, and how some grifters use people’s natural curiosity against them. 

This was written in the 90s. It has gotten so much worse. 

It’s a fantastic book, one i wish more people read, but the ones who need it the most are already so poisoned i don’t think they’d accept it. 

It’s all about the importance of skepticism, of doubt, of verifying, checking your biases.

“The truth is out there, but so are lies”

[gigismodernlife]

2023: Finally the End of the Covid Era; Surpassing the Aftermath

For me (and I’m sure many can relate) this year sure feels like reaching the end of a series of very overwhelming chapters in a book that put life into perspective but ultimately redeemed itself by giving the reader a glimpse of hope. I like the way Chad simplified it: “2020:covid 2021:covid 2022:covid ending 2023:covid aftermath, this year was weird, besides the Economy still sucking, 2024 should be a good year” The impact of the last four years was seriously hard on me, as it was for many others. After a lot of reflection, I can say that the best thing to come out of it for me was helping me open my eyes and see things clearly through my glass lenses lol. Some call it a Spiritual Awakening, an Epiphany, "finding yourself" or "Accepting God into your life" I've discovered that in its essence it is all very similar. To each their own, as long as whatever they believe in leads them to do good in the world. For me, I am mostly subscribing to Modern Christianity, the one that accepts all people, but I am also hungry for knowledge and still absorb other things too. Jay Shetty and Joe Dispenza have some great YouTube interviewers that people of my generation like. Anyway, the lyrics from Amazing Grace "I once, was lost, but now, i'm found, was blind, but now I see" have never rang more true. And, I cant forget to mention that I also met the true love of my life and got engaged. Look who's not dying alone after all lol! 

So, I had forgotten, but I wrote a Blog, I think it was at the end of 2020 called "Developing Depression During A Global Pandemic & Black Lives Matter Movement" I doubt anyone has ever read it but its there if anyone wants to read it. For those who arent familiar, depression can be situational or a chemical imbalance in the brain. Some people with depression experience it every few years, some completely overcome it, and others sadly never overcome it. Mine tends to be situational. Im assuming I get depressed because I am a highly sensitive, emotional and empathetic person. I realized all of this because I fell so deep into depression this last time that I became desperate enough to finally try medication, which I tend to avoid. It was a nightmare to say the least, I am personally better without medication, but I know it works for some people. The point is, I don't think I have a serious chemical imbalance, I just have trouble handling some hard situations that life has thrown at me, and based on my history, I have gotten much better at recognizing when I feel it and I can thankfully help myself out of it. This time though, I did'nt even remember how I had overcome depression in the past because from October of 2022 to about September of 2023 I was depressed AGAIN and much worse this time. If I would have gone back and read that blog I wrote, I really could have helped myself. I sincerely hate to say this, especially because I had already learned that money does not buy happiness, but the truth is, I messed up and I should've believed in myself more. My biggest fear was losing my income and having to go back home to San Diego after I worked so hard to branch out of there. I was so loyal to this job because I reached middle class financial independence working there but NONE OF THAT MATTERS! It's all a social construct. Middle class doesn't even mean much anymore these days, specifically in this economy (I'll write more about that another time). I should've quit my job so long ago, I tried, but the fear consumed me, as if it was worth the suffering, but it definitely was not. I mean, I ended up being affected by one of many mass lay offs across the country anyway, so I don't necessarily think I am a failure by any means, I learned a lot there, but it was definitely not the company for someone like me. That is life, and most people don't stick to one single job their entire life anymore. All of my worst fears ended up happening. I lost my job, I went back home to San Diego, which for me, holds some very bad memories. It didnt even end up being a bad thing, I ended up re-building my relationship with my family, I took a real estate course, I made memories with my nieces. It felt like God just helped me pick up my broken pieces and now I am whole again. I also set the right intention for my relationship and luckily now I have a Fiance and we are happier than ever in Oregon! I had been operating in constant fear and anxiety of becoming poor or homeless, I am so sorry to myself for doing that, I did not deserve that and neither did my cats. So basically, this year was about forgiving myself, TRULY forgiving myself. 

It's my first Christmas here in Oregon. Im sitting here in my pajamas, looking out the window at trees, surrounded by a cloudy sky, the temperature is in the high 40 degrees. I can't help but cry happy tears and reflect on life (I cry a lot, not just when I'm sad, but when im overwhelmingly happy too lol). My new boss called a few hours into the shift yesterday. No questions about performance, just a simple "Everyone go home! Spend Christmas Eve with your families" what a culture shock. At my old job, I hardly took days off. I asked to leave "on time" instead of staying later to make my flight to New Mexico at 8pm on Christmas Eve to be with family. I felt full of guilt and shame being asked about my performance, as if they needed to know whether or not I deserved to not stay later. I couldn't even enjoy it fully, because I was stressed that I did'nt do well enough. I am so glad those days are over. Today I really get to relax, and enjoy life. Everything is actually going to be okay.

What a whirl wind, this Covid Era was. The world was sick with Covid then the nice media outlets helped spread the encouragement of thanking your “Essential Workers” but really, a lot of the big companies approached it wrong and many of these workers mental health started to deteriorate from being overworked. Followed by consistent mass layoffs, even when profits were higher than usual. Then of course other media outlets spread nothing but fear. Oh! AND then we got frustrated because we got to see how other countries were smarter and more caring about the stimulus packages for their people. I realized that some other countries have a leadership team that relates more to their people and in tough times can show how they genuinely they care about their well being, rather than profit. (It's funny to me how this parallels my experience with Corporate America). I think many people realized that our country is not just physically sick, it's actually mentally struggling. Thank goodness for Millenials and Gen Z who started making mindfulness become what we call viral, or popular or "Woke". This is how many of us got back to religion, or even if they are not part of a religion, they still see things much more clearly and want to do better for themselves and make the world a better place. I still choose to believe that the majority of people are good, even though I've experienced some awful people in my lifetime.

For me, things are finally okay now, physically and emotionally. Im living a humble life, learning and growing and surrounded by much nicer people now, I mean this in the nicest way, but it feels almost shocking that here, people have morals, and they care about women being treated, "special" for lack of a better word. L.A. was definitely not my home and I hope it will never be again. Here, I see forests and mountains everywhere I look, I get greeted by cute squirrels outside all of the time, and lastly the rivers and lakes are beautiful. Even my cats are showing significant signs of healthier and happier lives. Im in the outskirts, but Downtown Portland is beautiful too. It is small compared to L.A. and San Diego, but exceptionally clean and pretty, friendliness is everywhere. The best part is that it has preserved some really nice historical buildings. It holds the largest book store in the world! It feels a little like a ghost town because the riots during the Black Lives Matter movement drove out a lot of businesses, therefore there are a lot of empty places, but none the less, it is a very nice experience to walk through it. Homelessness is also an issue here just like it is in California. The people out here though, the majority all seem so nice, it gives off a small town feel where everyone is just trying to live their best life and spread positive vibes. It's not about the car you drive, the way you dress, the neighborhood you live in, they just want to be good people, and honestly, they are some of the most good looking people I've come across. They're not rushing from place to place because "time is money" its just simple and chill. I haven't experienced the angry honking, or rude interactions I am used to. Im just minding my own business, smiling at everyone and taking it all in. I love it here.

I think I feel what a lot of immigrants feel when they first come to America, except I just didn't leave the country, I only migrated to another state. I feel like a kid experiencing life for the first time. The excitement, the knowledge I am consuming, the culture shocks in the most positive way. Im just open minded and learning and growing and appreciating every moment with my whole heart. It feels like God gave me a warm hug this year. He not only helped me out of depression, he helped me see that I have a bigger purpose, and helped me find a state that suits me and my personality better. Thank You infinitely to God and to Oregon for welcoming me.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (254): Fri 25th Nov 2022

I decided to take one final day off today because yesterday while I was playing with Luna I sat down and my lower back started hurting for some reason. This kind of thing happens all the time where I trap something but normally it gets fixed after I stand or squat or stretch. I tried contorting my body in all sorts of ways but try as I might the pain persisted all day and was still pissing me off today. I was annoyed at myself because I’ve been on a good streak since starting here back in June and now if ruined it by taking a week off (although two of those days were scheduled days off anyway so it’s really only 3 days off). I spent the day making a huge playlist of stuff I’m into / want to get into. I want to learn about the history / culture of Halloween and the Day of the Dead so I added every documentary I could find on the subject. I also want to learn about motorbikes and surfing so added as many of those videos too plus documentaries about people who's work I want to become well versed in such as Edgar Allan Poe and William Hope Hodgson. Since I spend most of my time watching YouTube anyway I might as well use it to get into stuff that I've wanted to get into for a while but have been too lazy to do so. My plan is to just shuffle the playlist up at the start of the night and have all these personalized videos on the TV all the time. The problem is that YouTube on the TV doesn't offer you the chance to shuffle the playlist so I've had to download the app to my phone which does allow you to shuffle the playlist. So I'll have to shuffle it on the app, watch one video then come out of it and then select the next randomized video in the playlist instead of the TV just playing one random video after another which is what I want. I mean I know the people in Ukraine are going through a bit of a kerfuffle at the moment but at least they haven't got to deal with annoying shit like this.

Richard Herrings blog Warming Up turned 20 years old today. I first became aware of Herring's work 1 years ago and upon researching him found out that he did his own daily blog. Warming Up is Herring writing up the events of the previous day but he always finds a way to be amusing about whatever happened in the previous 24 hours. It was Herring's blog that inspired me to create this one (which by the way will turn 10 years old on December 8th. I started doing a blog every day on December 8th 2012 on a different site then in 2020 I stopped publishing it to the internet because no-one was reading it but kept writing it for my own pleasure. Then earlier this year I decided to start uploading it to the internet again. Maybe one day I'll re-upload all the stuff from 2012 - 2020 and all the previously un-read content from 2020 - the present) as I found the idea of challenging yourself to come up with something creative every day very alluring and I saw it as an opportunity to get better at writing (which hasn't really happened to be honest, if anything my grammar has gotten worse in the last 10 years). Herring reaching a full twenty years of writing a blog every single day is very impressive and I hope he is as proud of himself as I am. I won't say Herring provided me with an "awakening" as that's perhaps too grandiose a way of putting it but definitely changed my life for the better because if it weren't for him inspiring me to do this blog then I would likely remember hardly anything about the last 10 years. There are so many things that have happened to me in the last decade that I probably would have forgotten about had I not included them in this blog. Most of them are minor events but there are lots of minor events from my childhood and teen years that I would love to be able to recall but I can't because I wasn't writing a blog at the time (because they didn't exist). If you've never read Richard Herring's blog before I suggest you start because it's always good for a laugh every day and it's a great lesson that a bit of discipline can go a long way.

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: KEEP IT OR YEET IT

Date video was published: 09/12/2020 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 421

In hindsight, this was definitely a giant hint that they were getting ready to move. Still 6+ months before the forever home was ready, but just a couple months before they moved into just the filming flat.

0:00 - he’s still got the Japan posters from Awkward Stories From The Closet up. also, love the piranha plant plushies in the giant vase 😂 not sure why he chose to do this one out in the kitchen area, other than maybe he knew having some extra space and a surface would be helpful

0:05 - very professional set-up there

0:39 - that box is so dusty! clearly he did not miss any of these things

0:53 - immediately laughing. did he try those on and not like them, so just shoved them in a box?

1:13 - I love it. Dan had gotten that for him for his birthday in 2017. here post-coming-out, he can truly show his appreciation for it

1:26 - of course he is keeping the present from Dan. was there any question

1:34 - jesus christ Phil...

1:45 - just making it worse “just shove him” 😳

2:00 - pretty sure he bought it for Trying Weird Instagram Life Hacks! which was over a year before this, so I guess reasonable that he didn’t remember

2:25 - “not that the toys were gay...maybe the toys were gay” love Phil’s toy story perspective there

2:39 - unnecessary pause there...um.

2:41 - I can definitely see Phil buying this and then never opening it

3:07 - wow, that does look ancient now. he didn’t say if he was keeping it, but he put the “keep” sound effect in

3:22 - that was terrible and thus great. 

3:27 - ...and then he went creepy with it

3:33 - is this a metal ball from the garden like they talked about in a stereo show? maybe he put it back outside after this

3:46 - not promising there

3:53 - those photos were the ones they got developed back in London DITL

4:07 - children are weird

4:23 - ‘truth bombs’ was a much better choice

4:29 - so consistent with what he thinks is a “cool” name. not sure about thinking “Trent” though 

4:45 - “the Gordon Ramsey of tidying” not exactly... 😂

4:49 - that actual frog plushie is in a very early video on Phil’s channel

4:53 - Phil’s hair was SO RED

5:05 - yeah, I don’t see Phil having the patience for that

5:07 - looks like he’s got a brochure from the Tokyo Skytree (maybe I think???) there on the table too, which he didn’t show

5:22 - Timmy! that snake had been around for so long

5:34 - I mean...he’s right. but he can’t do it! I wonder if Dan talked him into actually getting rid of some of these other things before the move

5:51 - that is a terrifying picture of Phil

6:04 - and now a Japanese-English dictionary on the table. so much Japan-related stuff in that box he didn’t talk about!

6:21 - I love that he just has this randomly. not surprised he lied about things as a child after some of his other stories 😂

6:36 - he really was doing everything possible to get out of PE...I would say that was some “effort” haha

6:50 - ah, the mini zen garden! that made it to the forever home

7:18 - Phil enjoyed that little project

7:31 - Kath had put that poster on Phil’s door at Christmas 2014. he was not amused then either, lol

8:11 - at least he is self-aware about why he keeps things

8:16 - changed his mind fast on that one

8:29 - he could have filmed the socks clip on his phone...but no, foot on the table while balancing on one foot

I enjoy this Phil video and the random stories he has for the items. He always keeps things that are “useful” or things that are nostalgic/have memories for him.

There was a bit of an uptick in social media activity in early September - Phil’s “boomer karen” selfie and the new merch, and just a couple days before this video this Dan photo. And Dan surprisingly participating in Phil’s virtual quiz show (1, 2, 3), which he nearly won! Which all made sense afterwards considering Dan’s announcement for YWGTTN was on September 14.

[delldarling]

bearberry bargain | pyre

male arctic fox shifter x gender/body neutral reader 10,261 words lemon | older shifter, knotting, oral, penetrative sex, no choking but there is throat touching, tricks and bargains, getting lost note: this was the Story of the Month for December 2020 over on my Patreon! It is loosely tied into the same world as my dragon fellow Arroven, but reading Arroven’s story first is most definitely not required. 

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The tundra is a gorgeous, but unforgiving landscape. You can hear the words on repeat in your head, clear as a twice damned bell. Worse than that, you can see Bristle, the orc woman that had served as your guide out here, in your mind's eye saying the words as she gestured to the fog drenched terrain. And The Mirrored Teeth are a little more dangerous than most. In the rain, or like now, in the fog, the stone spires gleam. They are beautiful, and all too easy to mistake for a far off porch light, or street lamp—but that isn’t what’s truly dangerous out here.

Bristle’s partner, a curly haired satyr by name of Rhim, with coins jingling in his carefully coiffed beard, had then stepped up to speak. Unfortunately, The Mirrored Teeth weren’t named for the teeth-like spires alone. The mirroring, or in this case, echoing, is the real danger. Voices carry strangely out here when the fog is thick, and if someone is lost? Our first instinct is to travel towards a light, or someone shouting. Whether the voices are our own, bouncing back to us from the spires or the mountains, or they’re the product of a still-living magical area?

They’d both spoken in unison then, smiling at each other with the ease of familiarity: Don’t follow the voices.

Each person in the tour group had been given a small token after their list of safety precautions, to serve as a tracker in case someone was separated. One person had asked if it was likely to get lost, and Bristle had snorted before she’d adopted her tour guide voice again. To come out here in the first place, everyone had been asked to sign a waiver because, inevitably, someone did end up wandering away. They followed voices that sounded like loved ones from past or present. They followed voices that sounded like themselves, calling out warnings. It was generally why people ended up taking the tour in the first place, listening eagerly for a voice they’d long since thought lost, or some kind of warning from their future self, so compelling and entrancing that they must be the product of magic. Most, though not all, of the people were generally found. Overtired and aching from sleeping on the ground out in the cold, but otherwise unharmed. Whatever caused the voices, magic or not, didn’t seem to hurt people, only leave them confused.

A few of the others currently with the group had come out for more academic reasons. Art and science in most cases, but otherwise those going on the tour were magic chasers, looking to record the fog voice phenomena for further study.

You might not have come out here with a recorder, but you can’t exactly deny that magic chaser applies to you as well. Claims of The Mirrored Teeth holding tangible residual magic are terribly rampant. You’ve wanted to witness it for yourself, to hear the voices, or feel the soft ache of magical energy on your skin, just the once. You’ve wanted… Well, it’s hard sometimes, not to want to feel the call of magic.

“And look where it’s led you,” you mutter, searching your pockets for the hundredth time. You know you won’t find the token, that you must have lost it when you slipped on some slick moss about an hour ago, but you can’t stop yourself now. It’s like trying to leave a loose thread alone once nervous fingers have found it. You keep reaching for the token, keep trying to find it, even though you know nothing you do will help any longer. You don’t recognize any of the surrounding terrain.

When you’d started out with the tour group, there hadn’t been anything but fog and the scrubby ground, hardened by a hidden layer of permafrost. You’d seen pictures of the teeth-like spires, but hadn’t been able to spot any when you first arrived. Now, every time you turn around it feels like you’re surrounded by the damned things. They radiate a soft glow, magnified further by the heavy mist and from far off? They look just like the teeth they’re named for. “Done in by moss,” you add, straining your eyes to see further through the fog. ”Not even by the voices!” Which, frankly, was disappointing. Not that you wanted to be lost in the first place, but hearing some of the voices the Mirrored Teeth are known for would have at least given you a better reason. An expected reason to be lost or wandering away from the group. Instead you’d simply slipped, brushed off a handful of withered greenery and pebbles, and had gotten back to your feet to find yourself alone.

You’d shouted yourself hoarse after the first half hour, calling out for Bristle and Rhim, staying in the same place, or assuming you’d stayed in the same place. You’d bent to find the token again, but even that had apparently been too much movement. Every time you lifted your head to look away from the ground, there was a different bit of flora springing up in front of you—and then you’d nearly smacked yourself head first into one of the spires, none of which are clearly marked on the map you have of the surrounding area. There’s always too much mist to plot them.

“Bristle! Rhim?” You call out again, cupping your hands around your mouth, not knowing if you should even hope for some kind of answer. What if they don’t answer because of the echoes? What if that’s the reason they’ve yet to answer in the first place?

The soft crack of a branch makes you whirl, throat growing tight when you spot the shadow of three figures through the fog. They straighten up, huffing, and the fog slowly spins away, shadows coalescing and revealing an older man shouldering a pack that he’s clearly just dug up from the ground. For a moment, he’s silent, staring, hand clenching tight at his pack as his eyes rove over your face. His gaze dips to your feet and lifts quickly back to your face before he wipes the surprise from his expression. “I hoped I was mistaken,” he grouses in a soft voice, tossing his head to get his ragged mane of salt and pepper hair out of his eyes. “But ‘lo, a human. Those tours are getting earlier and earlier every year, aren’t they?” He sighs, not asking like he expects an answer, but more like he’s just making an unpleasant statement. For half a second you have a retort on your lips, but the longer you stare, the more words vanish from your vocabulary.

The man has clearly tried to tame his ragged hair, weaving it into a messy, short braid that’s just long enough to hang over his right shoulder. There are earrings hanging from his right earlobe, dangly things that clink softly while he brushes impatiently at the dirt on his knees. His jacket, once a lovely heather gray, and obviously a match to a long lost suit, is patched and worn in multiple places. His jeans are nothing to write home about either, with frayed hems and patched knees. He has silvery stubble on his cheeks, and crows feet at the corners of his copper eyes, and—and a long tail, like a bottlebrush, fur standing on end. Until he sees that you’re watching. The tail vanishes behind his legs and your eyes zero in on his sharp nailed fingers, the backs of his knuckles covered with pale, soft looking hair. He grimaces, baring razor edged teeth, and promptly makes to stride past you, not even bothering to wait for you to get out of the way. He draws a rough breath as soon as he bumps into you, flinching away from actually knocking you to the ground, but it’s near enough to set your temper stoking.

Frankly? His manners are atrocious. But you’re also lost somewhere out in the tundra, and even if he doesn’t know where your tour is, he knows of them. You wrestle your temper into staying silent and rush after him.

“Wait! Hey, wait up,” you ask, ignoring the thrill that runs through you when you snag hold of his jacket sleeve and his tail bristles again. He’s not just hiding a tail either. His feet look more like great canine paws, which means—

The man whirls, and you spot two furred ears hidden under his uneven hair before he yanks his arm away from you, breathing far too fast. “Surely you know better than to grab at a shifter?” He hisses, leaning in close to your face. For half a second, he’s close enough for you to feel warmth radiating off of his body, but then his nostrils flare and his voice grows quiet. “Or are you from one of those backwater humans only villages in the East?”

“I’m—I’m sorry for grabbing you,” you blurt, mildly startled by his proximity to your face. “And while yes, that wasn’t a smart idea, I’m lost out here. Would it have been smarter of me to let you leave me in the dust before I asked for directions?” You take a slow step back, though you don’t let your eyes drop from his. You’re not going to take your eyes off of him for even a second if it means the fog is going to swallow him up and leave you all on your lonesome again.

The shifter narrows his copper eyes, highlighting the faint wrinkles in his brown skin. “Lost, you said?” He straightens, and keeps staring, eerily still. His frown only grows more pronounced when you nod your head. “You’re three days out from where the tours start. How long have you been lost?”

“Three days,” you repeat, uncomprehending. For another few seconds, the words don’t make any kind of sense. You’ve been separated from your group, according to your watch, for just over an hour. When you glance at the timepiece, only another handful of minutes have passed, but not enough time to even come close to explaining three days worth of travel. Your pulse is already racing, but it’s beginning to grow past the point of discomfort and into painful territory with how hard your heart is working. How the hell are you supposed to get back? “That’s not possible,” you breathe.

He doesn’t soften, but for a few moments he doesn’t look quite so irritated. “If you heard anything at all on that tour, then I’m sure you know it is possible. Residual magic, yes? It can do quite a bit more than just throw voices like a puppeteer.” He shifts his weight, like he’s ready to leave the moment you give him a chance.

“I’ve been lost for an hour,” you say, hoping that will spell out exactly how ridiculous you find his claims. “And I did my best to stay in one place. I’ve barely even begun to walk anywhere, and I didn’t—didn’t feel anything magical.”

“Isn’t it terribly rare to feel anything magical?” He asks, only gently mocking. “So few people even notice when something magical has happened to them. Now, it sounds as if the fog leapfrogged you through space,” he adds, wrinkling his nose. “Or did those green guides of yours not mention that something like this might happen?” He waits, but when you don’t immediately answer, the shifter sighs again, shakes his head and pivots, heading back into the still-swirling fog, ready to leave you behind.

You make another desperate grab for his sleeve, thankful that he only grimaces when he turns back to face you again. “In fact, yes, they did forget to mention! If you happen to have a satellite phone, or maybe-”

The shifter laughs and your grip on his sleeve grows slack. He’s rather handsome when he smiles, and looks like some kind of down-on-his-luck musician, dreaming of his glory days. You hastily let go of his sleeve, before he decides to yank himself away a second time. “Me? Ol’ Pyre, wandering about the tundra with a satellite phone?” He lifts his bag, clumps of dirt still falling from it. “I’m coming out this way to spend the winter in my other skin, and generally? Foxes have no use for phones.” He lifts his chin, scenting the air, and then nods his head in the direction behind you. “Head that way and the fog is likely to lead you right back.”

“Likely or certain?” You press, scowling. “Because there’s a rather large difference between those two options, and I’m not going to risk myself on likely.”

Pyre huffs out a sharp edged: “Which do you think?” before he registers the way your hands are starting to shake with nerves. His mouth opens, and then snaps shut. For a long moment he’s quiet, gritting his teeth, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not prepared for more than an evening trek through the tundra, are you? Enough food for a snack and dinner round a campfire before they herd you back?”

A small wave of relief loosens your shoulders. If he’s asking, then surely he’s not going to turn tail and leave you all by your lonesome? You start to smile, ready and willing to ask for further help, but Pyre turns away with a quiet curse.

“Pitiful idiots,” he says, glancing up at the sky, even though he can’t see anything but the vague hint of daylight through the thick fog. “Three days. And leaving would be akin to murder.” He bares his teeth, still looking up for a few seconds longer before he turns a sharp look your way, fingers curling and uncurling at his side. “I’ll lead you as far as the Slavering river. If you stick to that and keep yourself from wandering off into the fog again, you’ll certainly make it close enough for those idiot guides to find you.”

Slavering, the river is called, Bristle’s voice picks up in your head again, because they once thought the tundra a hungry thing, with teeth besides. She’d gestured to the West, though none of the group had been able to spot or hear the roar of the water yet. It had just been another wall of fog over hard earth and low growing shrubs. We’ll end our hike there.

You offer Pyre your hand, still worried about the trek, still ill at ease with what the fog has done, but feeling decidedly less panicked. Residual magic my ass. As soon as I’m back, the guides are going to expand that little safety speech of theirs.

“Thank you, really. I appreciate it. If I hadn’t—”

“Save your breath for the walk,” Pyre mutters and fully ignores your outstretched hand, skirting around you in a wide arch so he won’t risk touching you accidentally. He doesn’t get more than a few paces away though before he’s turning to look at you over his shoulder. “And keep up. If the fog decides to deposit you somewhere else, there aren’t many other helpful shifters wandering about the area.” He saunters off ahead, trusting you to make your own way, but the fur on his tail doesn’t lay flat until you’re jogging to catch up with him.

“Are there dangerous shifters then?” You risk asking, thankful for your heavy coat and the weight of your own pack. Bristle and Rhim hadn’t mentioned any shifters in the area at all, but then they also hadn’t told any of you that the residual magic might move you without your knowledge. Perhaps they would have, if you’d been allowed to stick around, but it feels like a glaring oversight, now that you’re all the way out here. Maybe this is why they make everyone sign the waiver. Not because of some idiotic, siren-like voices, but because of magical fog.

Pyre’s ears twitch, visible for only a split second through his hair. “Don’t wander off,” is all he chooses to add before he falls silent, doing his best to stay several steps ahead of you to discourage speech.

“That’s encouraging,” you mutter, and his ears twitch again, but he doesn’t respond. The walk to the Slavering is going to feel like a very long one from the looks of it, and it isn’t just because everything looks much the same no matter which way you turn. You shove your hands deep in your coat pockets, watching the middle of Pyre’s back, and do your best not to unconsciously search for the lost token. You already know your pockets are still empty.

————-　🦊　————-

Despite Pyre’s desire for absolute silence, he mutters about things without thinking. He comments quietly on a hare speeding away when a noise startles you. He grabs up handfuls of wild berries off of the scrubby bushes you pass, promptly dropping any that are too spoiled to be edible. He flicks some of them away with soft, but mocking farewells until he recalls that you’re not far behind him, listening to everything he says. Pyre’s threadbare shoulders always rise with embarrassment, but after the third time it happens and he remembers you’re there, he sighs, shaking off his chagrin. He pauses just long enough to grab your arm and slap some of the berries into your open palm, doing his best not to meet your eyes.

When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on your fingers, touch careful and tense. “Eat those if you’re feeling peckish, or save them for this evening and you can boil them down into tea. Don’t dive into any of your stores if you can until sometime tomorrow.”

“What about you?” You ask, noticing that he’s barely kept any at all for himself. A berry or two slips away, rolling off of your hand and dropping to the ground.

Pyre arches a brow, closing your hand around the berries so no more can fall before he takes a step back. “I’ll be hunting as soon as I leave you by the river. I’m more than well equipped to look after myself out here. A few berries won’t make much of a difference.”

“Is this a regular thing for you then? Coming out here to the tundra once a month for shifting?”

“For the winter,” Pyre corrects in a sour tone, and then turns back to his chosen path again. “Coming out to the tundra isn’t a regular thing for you though, is it? Or was it just the magic that left you so frightened?”

The berries he’s given you are small and gleaming red, and you don’t much care for his continued irritable attitude. You pop three into your mouth while you ignore him, expecting it to be, at the worst, bitter. Instead it’s dry. You make a noise of distaste, which makes Pyre glance back again. He stops, confused for all of two seconds before his eyes widen and he chokes on his laugh. The sour twist of your mouth is clue enough. “Definitely not a regular traveling spot,” he states. “Unfamiliar with bearberries?”

“I hope that isn’t what they taste like when they’re boiled,” you mumble, doing your best to refrain from scrubbing at your tongue. “And no, the tundra isn’t really a prime vacation spot for me or most anyone else. The draw of lingering, tangible magic is a little too much for some people to ignore though. Maybe not everyone, but some of us.”

Pyre hums, tail raising when he hops over a strange looking crack in the earth. “Feeling a call?” He asks, voice far too even to be pleasant.

That’s a personal question in most places, and Pyre has already quietly mocked your interest in magic once. He does seem the type to poke at uncomfortable topics though, to try and get a rise out of someone. His tail is still bristled out as well, quietly hinting that he’s not in a pleasant mood. “Is that why you come out here during the winter? I don’t hear much about other shifters vanishing for an entire season, fox or not.”

“The only call I’ll ever feel is the one to shift,” he grumps, but he does smack his lips and slow down for a moment, letting you keep pace. “I make bad decisions,” Pyre finally adds, as if that clarifies anything at all.

“All the time? Or-”

“Smartass.”

“That wasn’t even hard, are you really going to fault me for that one?” You wait, patiently, but no answer is forthcoming, and then he rushes forward a few steps ahead. “I’ll take that as a yes?” You call out, but Pyre just keeps walking, like he’s reached the end of his tolerance for speaking politely with another living being. “Well, that was nice while it lasted,” you mumble, frowning when you spot his shaking shoulders. He’s—he’s laughing. Maybe he isn’t suffering from lack of manners entirely, but instead has been too long out of practice.

“Not all the time,” Pyre calls back when he trusts his rasp of a voice not to betray his amusement. “Just a fourth of it.”

For the season, he’d said. You snort and don’t even try to hold back a smile when Pyre tilts his head to look at you. His head immediately snaps forward and he shakes it, as if to ward off an unhappy thought. He’s grumpy because... he’s awkward and shy? The last of your fear, still borne aloft by the way he’s spoken thus far, by his quiet mutter of akin to murder eases immeasurably. You follow after him now in less strained silence, a bit more confident now that you’ll make it back to the tour group in one piece.

————-　🦊　————-

Your confidence lasts until early evening, when visibility is becoming a huge issue for you. No matter how well you might see in the dark, the fog feels like it’s pressing in on you from all sides. Pyre hasn’t slowed by much, but then you see the pale, rapid swish of his tail, moving so fast it looks for a moment like he has more and then you recall that he’s a shifter. His eyesight, as well as his sense of smell, are by far better than your own. He might be able to keep going well into the night, but—You grunt, catching your toe on a white rock the height of your ankle. Before you can fall, or do much more than exclaim in quiet pain, Pyre has his hands on your shoulders, keeping you up and steady.

“It’s dark,” he says quietly, by way of apology. “We’ll stop for the night just up ahead. Can you make it?”

“Without tripping over rocks or falling on my face, you mean?” You breathe in, and promptly swallow. He smells a bit like fresh campfire smoke and the faint citrusy scent of the bearberries and he’s entirely too close. You don’t necessarily want him to move away though, not with the darkness growing thick around you. “Probably not,” you admit quietly.

Pyre hums, breathing in slowly, and the sound is terribly intimate. “...you need a hand?”

“Unless you’d rather I trip and skin my knees and palms in the dark? Yes.”

“Humans,” Pyre says, amused, and clucks his tongue as he takes hold of your wrist, turning away to continue on and pull you after him. He only pauses when you try to tug your hand away.

“You can hold my hand instead of towing me along like a kid at the fair. I don’t even have sticky fingers.” You turn your hand, thankful when he lets you adjust his hold. His fingernails, thicker due to his shifting nature, dig a little too hard into the side of your hand before he reflexes his grip.

He pauses, tense, even though his palm is a soothing warmth against yours. “Not sticky,” he finally agrees. Pyre hesitates, like he wants to say more, but a low, strange voice calls out something from far off. As soon as you hear it, the voice has it’s hooks in you. Your entire body grows tense, hair prickling, listening as hard as you can to try to make out the words. “No,” Pyre says in a low growl, trying to interrupt your concentration. He’s only barely louder than the voice. “Don’t listen. It’s all too easy to-”

“That sounds like—”

“It sounds like nothing that matters. Even if you know the voice, it doesn’t matter.” Pyre grunts when you turn your head, trying to follow the fading voice with your ear alone. He rips his hand out of yours so he can take hold of your face, pulling you close until you’re nearly nose to nose with him, thumbs on your cheekbones, fingernails scratching gently behind your ears. “Right now, the only thing that matters is making camp for the night. We’re heading this way and you are not going to go looking for that voice in the dark.”

You suck down a fierce breath, closing your eyes as the last of the echoing voice fades away. As soon as it’s gone, your shoulders start to slump, and you feel strangely hollow. “That is why they make us sign that waiver?” You ask, opening your eyes to find Pyre still terribly close, his hands still cradling your face.

For a moment, he lingers, breath warm against your lips, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening the longer he stares at you up close. The bright copper of his eyes is muted in the darkness, but the white in his hair, in his eyebrows, stands out brilliantly, and you think there might be more of it now than there was earlier this afternoon. “I knew you’d be a bad decision,” he whispers, and inexplicably, you think he might be about to kiss you. Your heart begins to gallop around your chest, your hands lifting to grasp at his wrists, his own still on your face—and then Pyre pulls away, dragging his nails over your skin. He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you quietly through the dark.

You’re not sure whether you should ask about his other bad decisions again… But you desperately want to.

Putting together the camp is a chilly affair at best. The shelter you help Pyre fumble through in the dark, though of course he has no trouble navigating the process, is little more than a heavy tarp tied securely between two of the tall, white teeth. There isn’t much wind, but now the mist is heavy enough to dot your eyelashes and bead along your sleeves. You don’t quite believe Pyre when he says he can get a fire going, forcing you to sit next to the small ring of stones he’s gathered. “There’s a copse of trees not far from here,” he explains, tilting his head to your right, though you can’t see anything through the fog, and especially not in the dark. “And I’ll be able to scrounge up enough for a fire.”

You want to ask him if he’ll be able to find his way back to you. If he thinks you’ll be safe sitting here on your own, especially after the voice from earlier. Voicing your concerns feels a bit too much like an invitation for bad luck though, and you still don't know Pyre very well. He might be helping you out of the goodness of his heart, but he's already dubbed you a bad decision. You're not sure you want to push things. “Won’t the wood be wet?” You ask instead, chafing your hands together to stir up a little bit of heat.

“No fear of shifters,” Pyre scoffs, straightening up and pulling his bag off of his back. “No screaming at strangers when you're lost in the foggy tundra, but you're worried about damp firewood?" You scowl, knowing full well he can see your expression. That surprises a rough sounding laugh out of him. "I may choose to spend my winter as a fox, but that doesn't mean I don't turn back into a man when spring comes." Pyre brandishes a small box, a tin filled with what sounds like matches. He rattles them about for emphasis. “Charmed matches are a necessity out here, not optional. Even if the wood is damp, they’ll catch well enough to last us the night.”

Charmed matches aren’t exactly common. A package of them, when used only in dire situations, should last someone a score of years at least, and as the spells to make them are some of the few guarantees of still working magic… They cost a pretty penny. “...should you be wasting them on me when I’m supposed to find the tour guides tomorrow?”

Pyre shakes the box at you, silently insisting you take it from his hand. When you take it from him, there’s more hair, more fur on his fingers than there was earlier in the day. You wonder if it’s a conscious change to help stave off the chill, or if it’s simply too close to when he shifts. “We need some way to boil a bit of water for bearberry tea, don’t we? Unless you’d rather eat them plain.” He sounds like he’s smiling, but the dark is getting more oppressive and you can’t see it. Pyre’s tone turns a little more serious, a little more apologetic as he continues: “And using them seems to keep away the voices, so yes. As I’ve taken responsibility for your safety—”

“Responsibility,” you murmur, arching a brow, but you can’t exactly disagree.

“—I’ll do exactly as I said. You’ll get to the Slavering, and I’ll even give you a match as a gift. You can make a torch as you head back and the voices should leave you be.”

You don’t shake the tin of them, knowing that they’re valuable, but you stroke your finger over the top, following the raised patterns of letters. “Will they work, even if they’re unlit?”

Pyre waits, and you don’t know whether he’s reluctant to give you an answer or he doesn’t actually know. “Are you worried about me going to grab the firewood?”

Well, it was kind of ridiculous, trying to hide your nervousness from him anyway. You’re lost in the tundra with someone you don’t know. No matter how resilient you are, it’s going to be nerve wracking. “I’ve never felt quite as strange as when I heard that voice, even with you pulling me back from it…” You stop, a frown growing on your lips. “But the voice didn’t do anything to you. You had no problem telling me not to listen to it.”

Pyre crouches, his knees popping, and groans quietly, rubbing at the patch just under his left kneecap. You can see his hands, pale fur the only spot of brightness in the night. “They don’t much affect shifters. We’re…. We’re already rather full of magic ourselves, even if it isn’t the kind one can use by uttering spells or mixing ingredients in a pot. Whatever the reason, the voices don’t seem to like magic. So a box of those matches?” He reaches out to tap on the tin with one long nail. “It should keep you from falling prey for the few moments it will take me to gather wood. I still wouldn’t get up though, then you might risk dropping it.”

You don’t know everything about the tundra, even with what research you did before you came on the trip, and the talk of magic here? It’s still something people want to study. One of the ones that came with a recorder would probably be thrilled to hear this much about the place from… Pyre might not be a year-round local, but he knows quite a bit. If he can hold off his shifting, maybe you’ll ask him to talk to one of them. “I’ll be safe,” you say, extrapolating, “as long as I stay sitting here. You’ll be able to find me again?”

“...I’ll be able to follow your scent, yes,” he admits, like he expects you to be irritated with the thought. Far, far away, another voice echoes, much fainter than the one you’d heard before. It doesn’t sound pained or panicked though, it sounds a bit like—Pyre takes your fingers, almost crushing them around the tin box in your hands. The voice vanishes. “You’ll be safe,” Pyre repeats, and a breeze whisks through the area, catching at his wild grey and white hair.

“Then get the wood,” you say, before you lose your nerve. “I’ll wait.” Pyre’s hand, still curled tightly around your fingers, eases. He brushes his thumb over the valleys between your knuckles and then pulls away.

“A few moments only. I promise,” he whispers, and then his canine-like feet are scuffing through the hard dirt and lichen covered rocks.

As soon as he’s gone, you soothe yourself by running your fingers over the tin of matches, trying to figure out what words are written along the top in fine, curling letters. There are too many loops though and when you do your best to try and focus on it, bringing it up close to your face, all you can see is that places on the tin have been worn down. Whatever it might say, the color on the tin won’t help you figure it out. It feels like only seconds, but another noise echoes in the darkness, your heart jumping back into overdrive. You clutch at the matchbox, but then Pyre is stepping out of the heavy fog, dropping a heaving armful of twisted branches and thick tangles of what looks like weeds.

“Moments, I thought you said! What was that, 30 seconds?” You ask, trying to calm your racing heart.

Pyre laughs. “I think you were just lost in thought, hm? It’s easy to lose track of time in the dark.” He kneels at the ring of rocks, cursing, even though you can’t hear any popping in his limbs this time. “Now, give me the matches and let’s get things a bit warmer, hm?”

You hand them over, and then get to work. You feel more than see Pyre’s surprise when you start picking up the branches and weeds. “I may be human, but I can help do a bit of work. It’s the last I can do after you helping me like this, what with your shifting getting close.”

“Noticed that, did you?” He asks, tin creaking as he opens and closes the lid. You glance over, but other than his pale fur, you can’t make out what he’s actually doing. A second later and he’s striking one of the charmed matches over a rough rock, and then it blazes merrily in a bit of fire smaller than a penny. “I won’t be a danger. I’m old enough to keep my wits. My… I should warn you, my breed of shifting isn’t always so pretty as others though.”

“Is that why you come out here?”

“One of many reasons,” Pyre mutters and holds the match to the wood in the fire pit. The match doesn’t burn down immediately though, or even catch the weeds when he touches it to them. Pyre deposits it carefully in the exact middle of arrangement, planting it almost like a seedling in the wood and weeds. Only after he removes his hand does the match start to spark, and then fire twists open like a blooming flower. It’s gorgeous. You lift your eyes to Pyre, awe clear in your gaze, and then you have to blink. He’s still the older man you saw this afternoon. He still has a mostly human face, but his arms look longer now, and his copper eyes flash strangely in the firelight. He glances at you, and you see that his mouth has grown wider, the edges either curling back towards his cheekbones or… Or his jaws are elongating. “Frightened?” He asks, and then you realize that you’ve been staring.

“Mildly startled,” you correct, refusing to look away. Whether he’s a pretty kind of shifter or not, you can still see him in his eyes and the way he holds himself.

He chuffs, and the noise warms something deep in your chest. “Smartass,” he says, sounding very fond. “I’ll make some of that tea now then, if you’d like it.”

“Bearberry tea,” you muse, reaching in your pocket for the rest of the berries he’d given you. Pyre unearths a small cooking pot from his bag, as well as an earthenware mug, glazed some kind of deep green. He hands you the mug and then holds out the pot, nodding his head when you lift your berry filled hand over it. It takes longer than you would like. Pyre has to mash the berries down and then he surprises you by standing and tugging at the tarp edge of your shelter. Water, mist really, beaded so heavily along the taut plastic that there’s enough to fill the pot near to overflowing. It’s much more than you would have thought, but Pyre seems unsurprised, even though you’ve both been relatively dry since he started building the fire.

“Alright,” you finally say, watching Pyre stir the faintly pink water with a metal spoon from his bag. “You mentioned bad decisions, and I’m not wise enough to leave it well alone. What are all these ‘bad decisions’ that drive you out into the tundra for an entire season? And, I can’t not clarify, were they flings?”

Pyre stares at you, eyes gleaming in the firelight, his too wide jaw falling open due to your blunt questions. When he laughs this time, it’s a sharp bark and more fox-like than human. “Oh, you are one of them. Much more perceptive than many of the others.” He licks his lips, still human-smooth, but his ears have grown longer. They’re peeking out from the sides of his head, poking through his hair now. “Some of them were flings. Some of them were just… A way to stave off loneliness, even if they were unpleasant.”

“And where am I falling on that scale?”

Pyre arches a thicker brow, baring his sharp teeth in a slightly eerie smile. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a fling with someone like you, but your companionship is more than enough if that’s all you want to give.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Then how, exactly, am I a ‘bad decision’? Making friends isn’t a bad thing, is it?”

Pyre’s smile wavers. “No, no it isn’t.” He looks away, into the middle of the fire, where the charmed match is still blazing like a seed of flame. “The bad decision is that my loneliness drives me to go looking in the first place.”

You let a few moments pass in relative silence, puzzling over his words. It sounds more than strange, but you can’t put your finger on why. “What does that mean?” You finally ask, noting the way he’s digging his nails into his thighs.

He looks back at you. “Anyone who wanders out here is an offering, of sorts. To help bear the brunt of winter. The tours… They’re more like a ritual than those guides of yours realize.”

Your head feels strangely empty. Ritual, he’d said. Slowly, you think back to the myths linked to the tundra, to the Mirrored Teeth, to the folktales attached to cities and Serpent Towers. There had been something about bearing the brunt of winter, holding it back from sweeping over the land…

“Your time here will be no more than the three days I promised. You will be taken back to the Slavering, with only this time gone from the memories of others, and I will do nothing but what I promise: to lead you back, if that is all you desire.” Pyre creeps closer, long arms and long fingers bracing himself on the dirt. All it takes is a single stretch and he’s by your side, towering over you in his half shifted form. “The bad decision was that I was given the right to choose without any warning. That I could only claim those I charmed away.”

“You charmed me?” You whisper.

“You heard my voice,” Pyre explains and your heart beats painfully in your chest. He is why people vanish from the tours and come back tired and dirty but… But most of them come back unharmed.

“What happens to those that don’t make it back?” You ask, trying to quell your panic.

Pyre’s shoulders hunch. “Sometimes people react poorly, and they run. Running in the fog is never wise.”

“How am I… How am I supposed to help you keep winter from swallowing the world?”

Pyre barks out another laugh, though he’s grimacing. “Those years I don’t have a companion, winter escapes my hold. It’s much easier to keep in check with help.”

“Helping how?” You ask, voice going brittle.

“Companionship. You’re already bound to the three days,” he says quietly, nodding his head to the pot of slow boiling bearberries on the fire. “You ate three of them. If…. If you choose to help, to spend the winter with me, then you can drink. You’ll be with me through the entire season—”

“Out in the middle of the tundra, with nothing but a tarp and an evening's supply of food?” You ask, getting to your feet. You take a step away from the fire, nervous energy making you move, and then freeze when you hear a far off voice again. You glance down at Pyre, angry and convinced it must be him, but then you recognize it. The voice, low and soft as it echoes strangely through the fog, is you.

“The voices are possibilities only,” Pyre says, talking over the needy sounding moan. It vanishes, like nothing more than smoke on a fast moving breeze. “And I would take you back to my home, I wouldn’t make you wander out here and sleep on the freezing ground!” Pyre starts to get to his feet and then thinks better of it. He stays where he is, looking up at you, holding out a hand. “If you drink, all I require is companionship. Loneliness lets the ice creep further out, but friendship, or, or anger or passion keeps it at bay. With your help I can bind the overflow of ice in the teeth. But if three days is all you’ll allow, then I’ll find another, I promise. You’ll be free of this, and you’ll forget this ever happened.”

You’re out in the middle of the tundra, wreathed in magical fog and standing before a shifter, a… a spirit? A deity? That keeps winter at bay. You did want magic, didn’t you? You ask yourself. You look down to his open hand, brown palm calloused, nails long and sharp, white fox fur growing longer along his arm.

“No one will even notice I’ve been gone?”

“You’ll be lost in the fog for three days, according to them. What life you’ve missed will feel like a blink, but no. They won’t realize you’ll have been gone for the entire winter.” Pyre’s mouth closes, stubbled throat working as he swallows.

Slowly, you sit back down, picking up the glazed green mug and holding it out for Pyre to fill. “The winter then. If we end up hating one another? You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Pyre doesn’t answer, but he watches like a predator after he fills the mug with bearberry tea, copper eyes caught on your lips. You finish half the cup, and what chill lingered in your bones slowly fades away. Carefully, Pyre takes the cup back and downs the rest, long tongue licking stray droplets off of his lips.

————-　🦊　————-

You travel with Pyre for three days before you reach the banks of the Slavering, only when you do, the tour guides aren’t waiting for you. This is where the Slavering begins, the thick snowmelt coming off of the high mountaintops and rolling down through the craggy rocks to make a river. There’s a cave entrance not far from the rapids, covered over with weeds and just large enough for Pyre to stoop over and fit into. You stop at the entrance, with him close behind you, and stare into the far off dark.

“It’s not like a dungeon in there, is it?”

Pyre grumbles, somewhere between indignation and a laugh. “You always know just what to say. No, it’s not like a dungeon. There’s plenty of modern day amenities inside. I’m a shifter, not a beast.”

Cautiously, still not entirely trusting him, you head inside. It’s dark at first, and earthy smelling, just like a cave, but then Pyre strikes another one of his charmed matches and pulls you to the side so he can lead. There’s a lamp up ahead, the frosted glass globe just big enough for Pyre to reach in and set the match. Heat and light seem to roll through the entire area, a locked, wooden door revealing itself to the side of the lamp. The cave floor, still cold and a bit damp, is actually stones, pieced together into what looks like a strange little map. You frown down at the stones, eyes tracing the edges of a single, deep blue vein, wondering why the chips of pale rock surrounding it strike you as strange.

“The Teeth,” you murmur suddenly. “You have a map of the teeth in front of your door?” Some of the spots are much smaller than others, more like a pinprick of pale stone as opposed to some of the hefty chips. If you unfocus your eyes, the map looks like a reflection of the stars.

“Magic,” Pyre explains, though he doesn’t sound pleased with his own answer. “There’s plenty to talk about when it comes to the Teeth, and the voices, just… Let’s go inside. It’s going to start snowing soon.”

When he opens the door, all the lamps inside are lit. Much like Pyre himself, his decor is frayed and worn down. There are heavy furs on the walls, and tapestries too, both simple and grand, but fragile looking. There are furs on some of the furniture as well. There’s a large stone fireplace, with hooks over the mantle made of horn and a set of stone stairs that curve out of sight. There’s no sign of things like phones or televisions, but you feel like you should have expected that. Companionship through a screen probably didn't fulfill the parameters of his… his curse?

That’s something you decide to ask about later. After all, you have the rest of the winter to spend with him, and he explained plenty over the three day trip to the mountain. The teeth are made of contained winter. The larger the teeth are, the more someone helped Pyre through that season. Through friendship, or anger, or passion, they melted the ice and snow. Pyre would take the melt and bind it in magic-made spires, but he couldn’t build on only one. Each spire was the product of a different person, each fling or friend made or fight had melted the snow at different rates. If your help has already begun, then you know some of the snow must have melted already due to your anger over the past few days, but it’s not something you think you can hold onto. Pyre tricked you into the three days, gave you the bearberries and bid you eat if you were hungry. You’d eaten three of them. The rest of the winter though? That you chose yourself. At least for a while, you’re ready to try and enjoy a little bit of the magic, keeping back winter or no.

“It’s not quite past midday,” Pyre says quietly, voice a strange melding of fox and man. “If you’d like food, I will make it for you. If you’d like a rest, I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?” You ask, only sounding mildly sarcastic.

Pyre narrows those coppery eyes of his. “Sometimes I think you say these things on purpose. Yes. Your room.” He heads for the staircase, his toenails clicking on the stone floor before he reaches the layers of rugs, the soft padding of his feet on them makes you smile. “I would hardly complain if you decided to join me in mine, but even so, you will have your own space.” He tosses his head, earrings catching in his hair and then vanishes up the stairs.

You move at a much more sedate pace, still examining your surroundings. There’s a very old looking table, covered with the remnants of a puzzle that looks to be from forty years ago at least. There’s a rack of old bottles, some of them look like wine, but others are clearly beer, and still others look like glass bottles of soda, the liquid half evaporated. Pyre’s house is going to be a treasure trove of history, of things left behind by others. The winter is going to be very long, you’re certain, but it won’t be forever. All of the people that left these things behind have obviously left and returned to their homes. You turn on your heel, slip your bag off of your shoulders and leave it at the foot of the stairs. You can come back for it later.

The lamps, all seemingly lit from that single charmed match, spiral up the staircase. There aren’t any doors that open up off the sides, only a hallway at the very top and three open doors leading to the far end. The first one you pass is a bathroom, with a large tub carved out of the stone of the mountain. There are elderly looking cupboards in there, and what looks like a wood burning stove, though it’s empty. The toilet, you assume, is behind the drawscreen, and when you peek your head farther in, there’s also a shining, copper mirror hanging on the wall. The second room is where Pyre is, hands fussing over the thick curtains around the bed. There’s a fireplace against the wall, and a nightstand next to the bed, and more furs draped over a chair made of wood and horn in the corner. There’s a worn desk, obviously hand-made by someone unskilled, but a beautiful bookcase next to it, filled with books in various states of wear. Some of the spines are cracked, but others still are pristine. To the right of the bed, there’s a single paned window. Snow is coating the sill outside, thick flurries weighing down the weeds that are growing in the cracked stone.

Despite the magic, despite the voices and his promise, it still hadn’t felt quite so real, wandering through the tundra with him. He’d said the snow would be coming down soon though.

“It’s lovely,” you answer, honestly, even if not everything is to your taste. It almost makes you want to laugh though, because it definitely looks like it’s somewhere removed from the normal world, some kind of strange mish-mash of time periods all pressed into a two story place. You wonder, without Pyre, would anyone ever find this place?

“Parts of it,” Pyre says, strange looking hands pausing in their tying of the curtains. He’s looking at the headboard, you realize. There’s a faint gouge in the dark wood, but it doesn’t look like it was from Pyre. It looks like a very human scratch. Warmth crawls over the back of your neck, though you’re not sure whether it’s embarrassment or eagerness. You’d been feeling a healthy dose of attraction with Pyre before he told you about everything, and it had taken a bit to sort through your feelings on the matter, even with you making the final choice to come here. You still don’t know how things will continue, but for now…

“Let me see what I can do to help make a few more lovely memories then,” you say suddenly. Heat is pulsing through you now, warming your cheeks and the tips of your ears and zinging down along your spine. Pyre’s head snaps to the side to find your hands working slowly at your clothes. He doesn’t move any further, doesn’t even tip back his head, just stares at you over the crest of his shoulder, pupils swallowing down the copper of his irises.

“If—you don’t have to do anything,” he insists, and his tail swishes, slowly, just the once. It doesn’t bristle out as it had when you’d first spotted him.

Your coat drops to the floor, and his eyes follow it. “I know. We were flirting though, before you told me about all of this, and I still…” You glance away, only for your eyes to snap back to Pyre as he drags his patched suit jacket off of his shoulders.

He slows when he realizes you’re watching, but doesn’t stop. A slow grin pulls at the corners of his wide mouth. “You still want to feel magic?” He taunts, and laughs when you roll your eyes. He stops laughing when the rest of your clothes hit the floor, the hint of a whine escaping him when you take a step closer, shivering when you feel the temperature of the stone on your bare feet. “My room,” Pyre says roughly, though you can’t tear your eyes away from him. He’s still a wonderfully strange mix of man and fox. His face is still humanoid, with lips and stubbled cheeks, and so is the shape of his shoulders through his holey t-shirt. There’s soft curls of hair peeking out of the stretched neck of his shirt, but along the backs of his arms it looks more like fur and his feet are still wholly canine. His tails, tails plural, are starting to grow longer too, and you recall the way he’d seemed to coalesce into one person when the fog had rolled back.

Pyre crosses the room, hesitating before he places his hands on your shoulders, thumbnails scratching gently at your bare skin. The chill of the room had been seeping into you, but at his touch, warmth chases it all away. When you slide your hands up his chest, Pyre’s eyes fall closed, gray lashes bright against his skin. “M’ room,” he repeats again, but pulls you into a kiss as he tows you out the door. There’s no more time for examining the hallway or the knick-knacks he might be keeping in his own space. There’s his lips and his stubble scratching at your skin and his hands splayed over the back of your neck and the base of your spine. He coaxes you into his room with deep, slow kisses that leave your head spinning, whispering things that make your pulse speed. “Want, want the smell of you on my sheets,” he says against your neck, dragging sharp teeth carefully over your throat. He growls when your hands dip to undo his trousers, your thumb following the trail of hair that vanishes beneath his underwear. “If this is, if it’s—”

“I agreed to the winter,” you remind him and then he’s turning you and letting you fall back onto his bed. You have a moment to register soft fur, and crocheted blankets, and comforters too, before Pyre is pulling his shirt off and tossing it across the room. He wrestles with the rest of his clothes, leaving you another moment to admire him. The hair on his chest and trailing down his abdomen looks human, much coarser than the fur on his arms and below his knees. Between his legs is a thick cock, hard and beginning to leak, with a small bulge near the base of him, and then your gaze is drawn back up as he crawls onto the bed, moving much slower than he had in the hall. He doesn’t press, doesn’t rush, just leans his body over yours to kiss you again, careful with his teeth. He groans when you reach up and tug at his braid, pulling the rough tie away and tossing it to the side. You comb your fingers through his hair, tangling your fingers in it to keep him kissing you and tense when his cock slides over your thigh, hot and hard and enough to make you buck up, already seeking friction. Pyre kisses you until you’re breathless, leaving you sucking at your own lips and trying to calm yourself as he urges you further up the bed, back to a veritable nest of pillows.

He isn’t slow when he settles himself between your legs, hands curling around your thighs and pushing them carefully back towards your chest. He isn’t slow when he drags his tongue over you, hot and slick and slightly rough. He’s careful as he can be with his teeth, but there are a few pinches that make you gasp and tremble. He laves his tongue over them, soothing the sting, but his nails are pressing hard into your skin and you’re fairly certain you’re going to bruise, simply from the continued pressure. Pyre is noisy too, whining and groaning as he tastes you, as you do your best to rock yourself against his tongue, hand tugging at his hair while he sucks and eats. The ache of orgasm, painful-but-sweet, is starting to build, starting to make you tense everytime he opens his jaw, teeth dragging over tender skin, leaving you wet and shuddering. He huffs when you whimper, and pulls away before you can come, copper eyes as bright as flame when he moves to sit back against his headboard. The loss of him feels sudden, and the cold is sharp without his warmth against you.

“That was on purpose,” you murmur. Pyre arches a brow, trying to keep from smiling when you scowl at his crooking finger. You still get up, on shaking knees and gasp when he tugs you over and onto his lap, your back against his chest, cock slick and sticky against your ass.

“I want to feel everything when you shake apart,” he murmurs, hand splaying over your sternum as he helps you arrange your legs. By the time you’re straddling his thighs, his fingertips are dipping into the hollow of your throat and his cock is rutting against your thigh and every part of you is on edge, desperate for more. You’d been so close. Pyre licks at the side of your throat, pressing his hand harder against your chest to keep your back still. “Lift your hips,” he urges, and takes his cock in hand, dragging the head over you as you do your best to listen. Like fitting a key into a lock, Pyre finds the correct angle, breathing raggedly as you press yourself down. As soon as you’ve taken enough of him, he lets go of himself and then presses on the top of your thighs, making you gasp out his name as you take him in deeper. He eases off after a moment, letting you adjust, letting you wriggle and groans out your name roughly as you do your best to ride him.

You think for a moment about saying something, about teasing him or trying to rile him up, but it’s all you can do to keep up what rhythm you have, heart beating terribly fast against the hand he has on your chest. He lets you move, lets you reach back and clutch at the messy locks of his hair, his breath warm against your throat and the top of your shoulder and then Pyre pushes roughly against your thigh again, thrusting up until his knot is grinding against you. “Fuck, fuck, Pyre, that—”

“Too much?” He asks, waiting while you shake, trying to steady your breath. You’re probably going to ache later, probably won’t want to do much but doze or take a bath in that massive stone tub, but right now? Right now you want to be greedy.

“More,” you get out and Pyre laughs, that eerie, fox-like noise echoing in your ear as he teases you with the knot, pressing you down and then pulling back his hips. Pillows cascade off the edges of the bed, spilling over the floor. You start squeezing, doing your best to drive him over the edge, so sensitive it almost hurts. “Please,” you whisper and then you’re too busy for speech. His knot stretches you and his hand dips between your thighs, stroking and his fingers press into the base of your throat. He’s not choking you, but he’s starting to squeeze and then you’re coming. Pleasure washes over you in a fierce, pulsing ache that shoots down to your toes and fountains back up your body. You shout out his name and shake in his arms, eyes falling closed as his knot expands, locking you in place. Your eyes flutter open and closed and drift to a steamed up window, much like the one in your own room. Weeds are still poking up through the cracks, but now it’s not snowing outside, it’s raining.

Pyre turns his nose to the space behind your ear, breathing deep, his own limbs growing loose. “The winter might well be softer this year,” Pyre mumbles, voice raspy, his hand smoothing down your sternum and over your hips. “And I have you to thank for that.”

“We still have the rest of the winter ahead of us,” you remind him, but you’re too sleepy to argue with him any further. Whether you end up enjoying the rest of your time here, you do know one thing: Passion will definitely be a huge part of fulfilling your bargain for the winter.

————-　🦊　————-

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

The Time Traveling Cabinet

So! Time travel AUs are fun. But what if, instead of sending back Tommy and Wilbur, we try something new for a change?

Concept: Time Travel AU, but the people getting sent back in time are the New L’Manberg Butcher Army.

Ranboo, Fundy, Quackity, and Tubbo are all scattered into the past on December 16th, and it only gets More from there.

Beginning

- Somehow, the New L’Manberg cabinet are all sent into the past at different points of the events of December 16th.

- Ranboo is sent back during the fight in front of Technoblade’s house.

- Fundy is sent back once Punz starts attacking the execution.

- Quackity is sent back a millisecond before Techno’s pickaxe hits his face.

- And Tubbo is sent back right after seeing the pillar and thinking that Tommy is dead.

Ranboo

- Ranboo gets sent back to about a week before Tommy joined.

- He is, understandably, confused.  But he mostly just vibes, leaving cryptic messages, building stuff, and exploring. It's nice to get a break from executions and warring and the messy life in the present day.

- He befriends Tommy again, and they burn down George's house again. This time, Dream barely cares. He doesn't need a reason to hurt Tommy yet.  

- Ranboo also gets to meet his best friend and future husband again!

- Tubbo's a lot less guarded, more willing to speak his mind, doesn't have firework scars on his face and arms. Tommy's still a gremlin, but he's a gremlin with dreams and schemes.  Ranboo doesn't know what to think about this.

- He doesn't get involved in the L'Manberg Revolution or any of the big conflicts, saying something about "preserving the timeline".

- He can’t change anything important anyway. According to the message anonymously whispered to him in chat every time he was stopped from changing something, multiverse creation is disabled until the arrival of all parties.

- Ranboo doesn't feel that bad about it. He isn't in the mood to create paradoxes, and there's nothing during the revolutionary time that he'd really change.

- Except.

- Didn’t Eret do some kind of betrayal thing?

- Ranboo can't recall what they did. Probably just switched sides, and people got mad about it, as people attached to sides often do.

- Then, on August 2nd, he hears explosions.  Against his better judgment, Ranboo sneaks over to L'Manberg to see if Tubbo and Tommy are okay.

- They aren’t.

- Yep, the country has been blown up, and to make things worse Eret leads the L'Manbergians into a death trap that takes more canon lives than anything else in SMP history.  Ranboo's legitimately horrified.

- He sticks around for the peace era and helps rebuild, maybe works at the embassy a little. Mr. Boo is not allowed to be a L'Manberg citizen due to being American, but he remains on good terms with the country.

- Basically, Ranboo learns the true history of this "just a drug van" country, and what it actually stands for.

- He's ready to wait it out until December, so he can get back to the present day with no complications.  One problem: He isn't alone anymore.

Fundy

- Fundy arrives to the Pet War confused as can be.

- He's pretty sure he's dreaming. That's the only explanation for him being in one of the worst times of his life again and Ranboo being there too for some reason.

- So, he tries to stop some of the pet murder, to varying success. He can't kill Sapnap during the duel or save Fungi, but he can save some of the chickens and Leonard the enderman and such.

- Leonard is his emotional support monster. He’s going to need one.

- Next, Fundy finds and yells at a bewildered Wilbur.

- Wilbur isn't allowed to hear the whole rant, but he does get 1) He screwed up as a father, 2) He's probably dead?? This does not help his paranoia and self-loathing.

- Fundy also gets to chat with his younger self, who according to one Ghostbur Soot was 14 at the time of the election? I don’t know, fox/phoenix/trickster demigod aging is weird.

- The conversation goes along the lines of:

“Do they ever start taking us seriously?”

“...Yes. Definitely. Sure.”

- Finally, Fundy tells a heap of lies about what he's like in the future to look cool.

- He’s generally is a fan of this situation because time traveling from the future means one thing: Attention. And it has been a while since he's gotten any of that.

- (Ranboo tries to stop him from messing with the past. He's only sometimes successful, and gets roped into Coconut 2020)

- In summary, Fundy clings to his moment in the spotlight, tries and fails to get closure with his dad, and gets to observe the unraveling ball of angst and issues that was his teenage self.

Quackity

- Quackity is sent back to the day of the election.

- He has to see his naive younger self screw up history and plan a spring wedding with Schlatt. It's awful.

- After trying and failing to assassinate the drunken dictator during his speech, and getting the memo about not being able to change the past in big ways, Q runs over to spawn to wait for Wilbur.

- Wilbur shows up after dying to Punz, and Quackity helps him get to Pogtopia for the first time. 

- There, Quackity chats with him and Tommy. He explains as much as he knows (which isn't much), and offers to join the rebellion.

- Wilbur doesn't trust him for five seconds. Honestly, Q's still wearing the Butcher Army uniform. He’s covered in blood!

- So, Quackity is sent out into the night in an offhand "don't call us, we'll call you" way. On the way out, he tries and fails to murder Technoblade. He's got a hit list, and he's going to complete it.

- Meanwhile, Past Quackity does not get along with Future Quackity at all.

- Past Quackity was a neutral good idealist. Future Quackity is a machiavellian, chaotic neutral guy with a murder list. They despise each other.

-Quackity tries to settle things with Schlatt. Not sure how well it works, but he does try.

- He also maps out complex strategies for how to change the future once all members have arrived. He's got Plans.

- Ranboo is very opposed to these Plans. Fundy is mostly onboard with these plans.

-Finally, Quackity desperately hopes that the last member of the party will arrive before the festival. Maybe, just maybe, he can do something to stop the execution.

-Unfortunately, the festival arrives, and Past Tubbo gives his speech, and Technoblade is given the order.

-The execution goes according to plan.

-Then, in the wreckage of the Red Festival, a figure appears.

Tubbo

- Tubbo has been having an awful day.

- First, he fails to execute Technoblade. Then, he finds out that he killed his best friend Tommy is gone. And now he’s standing smack-dab in the middle of the worst thing that ever happened to him?

- It’s all way too much. Tubbo runs away.

- Tubbo disappears for a solid week before finally accepting that he isn't just imagining all of this as a weird stage of grief.

- He then returns to Pogtopia in a suitably dramatic moment.

- Despite the fact that they're all in the past, Tubbo's probably going to end up as the character who gets the most focus. He's having the most Emotions about all of this.

- He's got to deal with his coping mechanisms (Ignore and Avoid) being taken away because he's back in the place he tries to forget.

- On top of that, he has to deal with the fact that he feels guilty about Tommy's death, but can't even process that because Tommy's technically still alive in the past (and in the future, but Tubbo doesn't know that).

- And he has to deal with seeing Wilbur again, and figuring out why Wilbur made him president.

-He’s going to go through a lot.

Character Motives

- Ranboo: Preserving the timeline so they can get home vs. Wanting to keep his friends safe and caring about L'Manberg now.

- Fundy: Fixing things for his past self, and getting closure with his dad.

- Quackity: Completing his hit list and completely changing the timeline. And punching Schlatt in the face.

- Tubbo: Dealing with the various emotional turmoils listed above, getting Tommy and his past self to run away from it all.

- Past Tommy: Finding out what the actual fuck is going on, and protecting the Tubbos (Tubbi?). Also, he wants to know what happened to upset Future Tubbo so much. (His regular Pogtopia motives are also there).

- Past Fundy: Measuring up to how great his future self said their life was.

- Past Quackity: Not becoming his future self at any cost.

- Past Tubbo: Regular Pogtopia motivations, but now he has both Tommy and Ranboo to worry about.

- Past Wilbur: Wilbur already believed that he had a scripted role, and was always going to end up the villain. Well, now he has confirmation of just that. Awesome!

He actually goes through with it. He actually blows it up. He doesn't know if he's proud, disgusted, terrified, or what, but he knows that it's not up to him to go against fate.

And if fate demands a grand finale and a little trinitrotoluene on the side? He can do that.

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E113 (Oct. 27, 2020)

Good evening and good night, lovely people of the world! We’re on the internet and ready to go. Tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham and Sam Riegel. This will be calm, controlled, and sane, I can feel it. Brian points out it’s been seven months since either of them were on Talks. Oof. (Sam asks if it’s been going the whole time without him. Bigger oof.) Travis keeps sneaking bites out of an acai bowl or something and tries to look sneaky about it, and I laugh every time because he’s just...so big. He’s such a big person.

(Brian is wearing a lobstrosity shirt. He and Travis talk about Dark Tower for a bit; then Sam tries to get into the conversation: “Is that the thing from It?” Brian: “Is what the thing from It?” Sam: “Is that lobster the clown from It? I’m not very literate. Is that a Langolier? Is that a Shawshank?”)

Announcements: none! Maybe they just forgot. We’ve been talking about Sam’s spooky skeleton decorations for like five minutes. Brian suggests taking them to Travis’s house. Travis: “That’s the fastest way to get to the smell of burning plastic.” Brian: “Speaking of your girlfriend...”

On Avantika: Fjord wouldn’t call it a relationship as much as a casual sexual interaction. Not official! Super not official!!

The first sea voyage wasn’t great for Fjord, but he tried to be thoughtful about preparing for this one before they left: praying, kneeling at the bow of the ship, etc. He’s a little disappointed the Wildmother didn’t even throw him a “yo, fam” heads up.

They weren’t sure how to resolve the conflict at first, since Avantika went for Fjord rather than the crystal. No one expected it to get exposed in that way. Travis thought the necklace was a pocket dimension and was alarmed to learn it wasn’t. Travis wants it destroyed along with the third gateway, so until they are he won’t rest easy.

Everyone enjoyed watching them all fail on the battlefield again. (Sam: “You used [Counterspell] so effectively!”) Travis thought he’d said Thunder Step, which would imply Avantika was running, rather than Thunder Wave. Sam says it’s fine since none of them have that spell and he wouldn’t know it anyway.

It’s very difficult for Veth to find reasons to stay with the M9. She loves the adventures and making a difference, but she also wants to come home and have weekends and have a husband and life. “She’s a career girl!” He’s very excited about the possibilities of Caleb’s transportation effectively creating an easy commute for her. He also, as a player, doesn’t want to be the person who’s always leaving the party. “My characters wanna roam!”

Travis was fully tilted that Avantika might have gotten away right before the break. He doesn’t think he could have focused on Vess DeRogna’s task knowing Avantika had gotten away; he was seriously working out how Fjord would leave the party to go make a last stand at the third gate if she’d escaped.

Sam looooves how Matt plays Yeza, but it honestly makes him feel a little worse at how encouraging he is for Veth to chase her dreams. “He’s always like - go shine! Go blossom!” He wants to have the conversation about Yeza feeling a little ignored. It’s fun to share the tales of adventures with Luc & Yeza. 

Travis says there’s no way it’s Molly--it’s all Lucien. They don’t know if it was a resurrection, if he’s undead, possessed, etc. Everyone--everyone--rags on Taliesin’s accent work. Brian surreptitiously claims Ashly was brought on to relieve him of the burden of the accent. Poor Ashly, ha!

Initially, Travis landed on the Oath of the Ancients, but it had more nature & pacifism in it than he felt fit Fjord very well. Many of them also had a focus on good & lawfulness, which also didn’t feel quite right; he also wasn’t that vengeful for some of the others. He & Matt got together and discussed options. Matt asked what Travis liked about Fjord; Fjord’s love for the ocean was a huge part of it, since Travis himself also loves the ocean & scuba diving, and so Matt created a custom oath for him. Travis does not plan to post its details, but he thinks Matt will at some point.

Cosplay of the Week! a lovely Scanlan by Air Bubbles Cosplay! Sam tells us the “canon” Scanlan cosplay was actually borrowed hodgepodge, and the boots were falling off all day.

It was really cool to see how Yeza & Luc have made a home in Nicodranas. Felderwin was okay, but kind of your basic D&D fishing village, and she likes the Nicodranas is much better. She’s confident & comfortable knowing her family is safe and sound.

Why is Fjord so interested in finding Sabian? To him, post-orphanage, his time with Vandren was the best of his life & the most love he’d ever received, because he mattered & had worth. It was taken by someone he’d known basically his whole life, so Fjord is not going to let that go. “That fuckin’ bill needs to be paid, my friend.”

Sam acknowledges that he should NOT have looked at his phone in re: the Vilya reveal, but it was pretty surprising! He can’t believe none of them recognized it! Travis points out the M9 had never met, heard of, or known anything about Vilya, so it’s not that surprising. Brian points out Matt has also done a really good job keeping the two campaigns separate, so any references were tasteful. Sam marvels that it was so well done: it was tasteful, had emotional and story impact... “That Matt. He’s getting better!”

Liam texted Sam back something like “oh SHIT.”

Knowing Veth had a chance to help someone else return to her child made Veth feel almost karmically forgiven for being away from her kid, but it also made Veth a little guilty--”this lady wants to desperately return home, shouldn’t I want to go home too?” Caleb’s teleportation spell couldn’t have come a better time.

Sam wants Caleb & Astrid to get back together (well, he says “hump each other”), and Dani’s eyebrows climb off her forehead. Veth/Nott really thinks Caleb needs to have a roll in ze hay, and feels like after meeting her that there is a kindness or vulnerability to her that could be worthwhile. Travis thinks she feels like someone tethered, that it feels like she has a bomb or something in her chest that’ll explode if she tries to leave. Sam thinks Eadwulf is super cool. None of these names are spelled like I think.

Travis found the dinner super frustrating, because he felt Caleb was trying to walk a diplomatic line and he just wanted to backhand Trent. 

Fjord is still coming to terms with his feelings for Jester, and the feelings are definitely real, but there’s a lot of timing that he’s considering and he also wants to figure out what the relationship is like outside of constant tension and battle. Fjord is also having trouble figuring out how to exercise the ability to display affection as well since he’s never received them, and is feeling out how to give and receive them. “It’s fine now, because he’s feeling it, but once you say it out loud, or once you come to a point where you make it known to the other side, then what happens? It might be ruined. It might be broken. Or it might not be!” The moment with the porcelain unicorn was too good not to try. Travis also sighs that he’s not a romance D&D guy, “but now I am! Fuckin’ Laura Bailey!” He’s definitely feeling it out and will see how it unfolds in the game.

If Jester hadn’t let go of the Traveler, Fjord would have either attacked the Traveler or the Moonweaver and tried to kick them both off.

Sam doesn’t think the Traveler’s realized yet what a dick he is. Brian thinks it may not happen in this campaign, but agrees the full weight of what he deserves hasn’t been felt yet. Travis: “Yeah, he came to the edge, but it didn’t cost him anything.” Brian: “Yeah, he’s a real edgelord.”

Fanart of the Week! a beautiful portrait of Molly in the snow by @claygryphon on twitter.

Veth acknowledges that they work for shady people with shady pasts, so Vess DeRogna isn’t her first rodeo, but this time it’s personal. It’s Jaws 2: Electric Boogaloo. Sam can’t commit to actual actions, since Vess is like level 20 or something, but “I will get some kinda revenge. Be it petty or significant, I will get revenge.”

How are they feeling about being in Eiselcross? They’ve only just landed, so not sure yet. The cold is intimidating. They’re excited to explore a new island that’s part of Wildemount, especially with the river of lava running through it. “It’s icy with lava? Sounds like a Dairy Queen.”

There’s still a ton of unknowns regarding the Tombtakers, Vess, the nature of their job, and who’s here on whose orders. They’re excited to see how it’s all going to play out. Travis laughs that he doesn’t take notes, he’s just here to fight things. It just washes over him when Matt starts talking about names and places. “It’ll reveal itself in time. [...] I don’t write those notes down. I don’t even know how to spell it off the bat.” I have never identified more with Travis. Sam actually does pay attention and take notes and was really impressed by Marisha’s dive.

Veth became interested in branding her own spellcraft as soon as she saw Caleb doing it. “That’s what the influencer agents are gonna be looking at. It would be nice to leave the world better than we found it, but also with some branded spells.”

What were Fjord’s thoughts on dropping so much money on the ring & the Ioun stone? It wasn’t about money for Fjord, it was about a cool thing to acquire. It’s why he saves money in his campaign. Caleb needs “as much of a flak jacket as he can get.” He also REJECTS the idea of buyer’s remorse on the ring and touts the effectiveness it’ll have on the lava river.

Travis talks about his old coins - a 340AD coin he bought at a ren faire and a 120BC coin that was a gift from a friend.

Sam marvels at the love and thought that Caleb put into the tower. Sam points out they forgot to go to the top two floors altogether. Travis: “Did the mansion get as much careful planning from Scanlan as the tower did from Caleb?” Sam: Absolutely not. But they were still thinking small in C1, figuring out how things went, and they didn’t have as much detail in their heads yet.

And that’s all the time we have for tonight! We end on everyone whispering way too close into their mics and tapping fingernails on mason jars. A fitting end to this crazy episode, I think.

Is it Thursday yet?

[stanandcharleyandfriends]

In the thick of the COVID-19 pandemic, it seemed to Scott Neabore that the pet population had doubled as people bound to their homes sought out cats and dogs for comfort and companionship. His practice in Haddonfield, meanwhile, was still compact — just him and three vet technicians.

His schedule is fully booked with surgeries until autumn. There are no slots for more dental procedures until the beginning of next year. He has performed more spay and neuter surgeries in the last year than he ever did previously.

“The pet population essentially doubled in a year, but the veterinarian population did not,” he said. “Now we’re trying to play catch-up.”

As pet ownership sharply grew in the last year — 11.38 million households in the United States got pets during the pandemic, according to the American Pet Products Association — so did the workload for veterinary practices, many of which simultaneously grappled with COVID-19 safety protocol, concerns of thinning staff, and growing pressure to see as many patients as possible.

Even with nimble vet staff, there was sometimes a waiting period of six to seven hours at the Red Bank Veterinary Hospital emergency room in Hillsborough, N.J. — a delay exacerbated by some owners who brought in their pets for nonurgent matters, veterinarian Agatha Kuza said.

“My job has kind of become a general practice-emergency hybrid,” she said, noting that some people have paid the more expensive emergency hospital fee rather than wait longer to get their animal seen elsewhere.

In a typical 12-hour shift during the pandemic, Kuza saw 10 to 15 patients. On her busiest day, she recalled, she saw 30. Another day, when two other emergency clinics in the area diverted owners to nearby facilities, eight patients showed up at Red Bank Veterinary Hospital within an hour.

The work has become overwhelming, Kuza said. After already long days sometimes peppered with combative or accusatory pet owners, some employees stay an extra hour or two to finish their tasks, she said. Half of the nurses who were working at the hospital when Kuza was hired last year have resigned, and replacements are hard to find.

“I definitely already feel burned out,” said Kuza, who graduated in 2019 from the University of Pennsylvania School of Veterinary Medicine. “I don’t see myself doing emergency — or even veterinary medicine — long term.” She has begun to see a therapist, she said, and take medication.

When COVID-19 and vet medicine collided, it brewed “a perfect storm,” said Jennifer Keeler, executive director of the Pennsylvania Veterinary Medical Association.

“We started out with not being sure if vet clinics could remain open, and in the early days, they were only open for the emergency procedures,” she said. That pushed back routine wellness visits — and the backlog compounded as people began adopting or buying new pets and bringing them in for their first checkups.

“Once they were allowed to do routine care and trying to dig out of that backlog, a lot of staff members are parents whose kids are home,” she said, noting that the majority of veterinarians and veterinary technicians in the United States are women. “So a lot of vet clinics lost staff and have been unable to fill positions. It’s really put a lot of pressure on them.”

Coupled with new rules surrounding COVID-19, such as appointments that required owners to stay outside while their pet was being seen, more owners became frustrated and angry, Keeler said.

“That can be emotional for pet owners because they want to be in with their pet,” she said. “They often give a lot of push-back to vets and staff, so it’s kind of coming at vet professionals from all angles lately.”

Turnover is then high, she said, particularly when there is low pay, little job satisfaction, burnout, and compassion fatigue. Vet technicians and technologists earned an annual median pay of $36,260 in 2020, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The agency found that the veterinarians averaged $108,350 a year as of last May.

“I get cursed at at least once a week,” said an emergency veterinarian in Philadelphia who requested anonymity for fear of jeopardizing her job. People also have threatened and yelled at her, she said, slammed doors in her face, and walked out on $2,000 bills. “It’s definitely gotten much worse.”

The workload, too, has been fierce: In the first week of the pandemic, she said, a few cat owners who began to spend more time at home observed their pets more closely and brought them in to be examined. She diagnosed three with having abdominal tumors. And she examined more puppies than usual, many of which came from Lancaster County, Missouri, or Ohio, hot spots for puppy mills.

“Everyone just wants a puppy so much right now that puppies that wouldn’t get adopted with heart murmurs or hernias are getting adopted,” she said.

Recently, she noticed an uptick in animals that had ingested marijuana.

She said she had used her own money to pay for the treatment of six animals surrendered to her practice during the COVID-19 outbreak. One was a puppy with a broken leg; another, a cat with a severed tail.

“There’s no end in sight,” she said, and recalled a shift when she had to handle 15 emergencies by herself. “And we’re just working harder and harder and harder.”

Despite increased stress, “in general, I’m doing better than most people,” she said. “... You have to not take things personally. You have to come up with ways to cope, or you can’t deal with it.”

As it stands, the industry feels broken, said Braelyn Bankoff, a graduate of Penn Vet. She left her job as a small-animal vet in April 2020 after the job left her anxious and unhappy.

“The vet world right now feels set up to go poorly from the start,” she said, and pointed to the high cost of vet school that led to people “feeling trapped” or “forced to work unsustainably,” and the expense of running a tight-margin animal hospital that invited the pressure of seeing as many patients a day as possible. The stress, so crippling at times, has given rise to Not One More Vet, a national nonprofit dedicated to bettering the mental health of vet staff.

“It puts more burden on the existing staff and results in crazy hours, unsustainable workloads, too many client expectations you just can’t support,” Bankoff said.

She ultimately found that the pressure was unhealthy.

“I started developing stress-related illness,” she said. “I saw a psychiatrist and had to get on antidepressants and anxiety medication.” She quit her job without another one lined up and started a job search. She landed her current position, an analyst for the National Board of Medical Examiners, in January.

“It’s absolutely amazing,” she said. “I have hobbies now. I have a life. I am no longer on any meds. I feel very much myself again, and that’s awesome.”

***

Published June 7, 2021. The author, Katie Park, is suburban development reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Competition

note: I just felt like writing some angry, jealous Chris...enjoy :)

words: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, alcohol, unprotected sex

"I am Chris Cuomo, live from New York with my collegue Y/N Y/L/N, keeping you updated on this 2020 presidential election all through the night.”

The camera switched to you as you greeted the viewers before handing it over to Phil on the magic wall, right in time so the giant yawn you had to let out wasn’t caught live.

"Pull yourself together, Y/L/N.“ Chris whispered across the anchor desk and discreetly slid a cup of coffee your way.

You rolled your eyes at him, that was easier said than done. It was the second night of the election coverage and you ran on nothing but naps and caffeine for two days now. You spent all your time off air preparing your nightly coverage, doing panels for the day shift, keeping track with the incoming numbers and doing calculations. It was exhausting, and you had no idea how Chris managed to not only be wide awake, but also look impeccable doing so.

It was the first major event the two of you had covered as co-anchors, you had never worked with him before and maybe that was for the better. Because while he was a brilliant journalist and you had already learned a lot from him, he also was a huge pain in the ass, and the fact that he teased you all the time was only made worse by the surge of heat that went through you every time he stared at you with those damn blue eyes.

Yes, you had a slight crush on him, but you blamed it entirely on sleep deprivation and would never even dream about acting on it. You had this big event to cover, and that’s where all you focus was, or at least should be.

The camera swayed back to you right in time for you to announce a key race alert, calling the next state for Biden. A good way to start the night.

+++

"And that’s it from us in New York, I’m Chris Cuomo and I’m now handing over to my colleagues in Washington, our live coverage on CNN continues after a short break. Thanks for spending your night with us.”

“Fuck me.“ you murmured, slumping your head down into the anchor desk as soon as the cameras were off.

You were absolutely bone tired, and you only had about a 10 hour break before preparations for the next night started, because there was no chance the race was going to be called in the next hours.

“Y/N?” one of the producers called your way. “Washington asks if they can have you up for a panel discussion at 10, and maybe another one in the afternoon?”

You groaned and just gave a thumbs up, it wasn’t like you had planned on going home anyways.

Deciding to squeeze in a nap in your office, you got up from your chair to at least get a couple hours of sleep. You walked through the hallways like a zombie, and didn’t pay any attention to where you were going until you ran right into a huge body, colliding with the persons chest with a huff.

“Come on, Y/L/N, too tired to keep your eyes open?” Someone chuckled, and you groaned internally. Cuomo was one of the last people you wanted to see now.

“Sorry, We can’t all be super humans who don’t need sleep.” You muttered, and tried to keep walking, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“You’re staying here until tonight?” Chris asked, and you just nodded tiredly in response.

"Join me in my office for a drink then?” He asked, and your eyebrows shot up.

“You keep alcohol here, Cuomo?”

“Of course.” He chuckled. “Emergency use only, but the craziness of those past hours calls for it, and you really look like you could use one.”

He was right, a drink sounded like heaven, and you were way too tired to be rational right now.

+++

“Shit, this is good.” You sighted, taking another sip of the scotch Chris had poured you, your head slumping back on the backrest of his comfortable leather couch.

Chris had already downed his drink and was now watching you from an armchair across from you.

“You need to toughen up.”he suddenly said.

“You’re doing a good job, you’re driven and intelligent. But you let stuff get to you too quickly. You need to stay focused 24/7, even under pressure like tonight, or the job will break you at some point.”

You blushed furiously, what he said hadn’t sounded mean or condescending at all, but you still got defensive.

“I didn’t have one single slip those past two days, cut me some slack, Cuomo, were all tired.” you snapped.

Chris face stayed as calm as his voice.

“I’m tired, yes, but you don’t see me yawning in front of the camera. You looked cute, don’t get me wrong, but I doubt the bosses will see it the same way.” He chuckled, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“I am not cute, I’m an anchor just as you are.” You hissed, your fists clenched in your lap. You got up from his couch. “I’m leaving now, I don’t need your condescending shit.”

Before you even reached the door, Chris had already caught your arm, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding you back.

“Hey, no need to be cross, I was joking.”

He took a step closer to you, and you got a whiff of his aftershave mixed with the whiskey he just had. He smelled like heaven, and looked so stupidly good, even in his wrinkled dress shirt and with circles under his eyes, you hated him a bit for it.

You took a step back, hitting the office door behind you. Chris was so close now, watching you with dark eyes and a curious expression on his face.

“Well it wasn’t funny.“ you whispered, unable to come up with a better response. Your brain was fuzzy with alcohol and sleep deprivation, and couldn’t handle the situation.

"Or maybe you just need to loosen up a bit.“ Chris grinned, cocking his head to the side.

Looking back, you weren’t sure what made you do what you did next, maybe it was the whisky, or the lack of proper sleep, or both, but grabbed the fabric of Chris dress shirt and yanked him down, crashing your mouth onto his.

He appeared suprised and didn’t move for a second, but then his hands grabbed your arms and pressed you back against the door. He deepened the kiss, but just as you tried to reach out to bury your hand in his hair, he suddenly took a huge step back.

"You need to leave.“ he pressed out, even if his body language clearly said the opposite.

"What’s gotten into you?“ you asked, confused and slightly irritated.

“There’s no way in hell we’re doing this. Not here, not now, not ever.”

“But you just-“

“Look, I’m m sorry if I sent you the wrong signal, but we can’t do this. I know, we’re both tired and we had a drink and everything. But we’re working together. This isn’t right.” He let out a deep breath, before his face hardened. “I really think it would be best if you leave now. I’ll see you later, once we’re back on air.”

You felt absolutely mortified, you had been convinced that Chris had wanted the same thing, had you really been reading him so wrong?

You didn’t want to be in that situation any longer, already feeling the embarrassing sting of rejection manifesting itself with a giant flush creeping onto your face.

So you did the only thing you could come up with, you ran, locking yourself in your office and dreading facing Chris again.

+++

The joy and relief over the Biden victory had erased most of the exhaustion and pent up frustration you and the whole CNN team had felt during that election week. The guy who hated your network and the way each of you did their job was finally out of the White House, and that was a definitely reason to celebrate.

You were currently all gathered in the main office space where the bosses had thrown together a party, their way of appreciating your hard work during election week. There was music, amazing food and, much to your delight, an open bar.

It would’ve been a great evening if it wasn’t for the almost unbearable tension still hanging in the air between you and Chris. Looking back, you had no idea how you had managed to keep it so professional during the coverage following your encounter in his office.

Of course, being serious journalists, you didn’t let it show that there was any animosity between the two of you, but as soon as the cameras were off, Chris either completely ignored you or fled the room as fast as he could.

You tried not to take it personally, but it still hurt, and even talking to him on air without showing that was incredibly difficult for you.

Now, you hadn’t spoken to him at all in the three days since the election was over, and you had finally decided that he wasn’t worth the many thoughts you had spent on him.

You wanted to have some fun tonight, have a chat and some drinks with your colleagues and not think about Chris Cuomo.

Which was pretty hard, considering that his huge frame was almost impossible to miss in the crowd, and you had felt his eyes on you more than once.

But you stood your ground, trying your best to appear unimpressed as you joked around with some blokes from the production team. One of them, a guy called Jim, seemed a bit into you, and you decided some harmless flirting wouldn’t hurt. The last days had been physically and emotionally exhausting, so some light banter was just what you needed.

You were in the midsts of laughing about a story Jim had just told, when your eyes caught Chris staring at you from across the room. And for some reason, he looked really mad.

You just raised your eyebrows at him and turned your attention back to your colleague. But you were only listening with half an ear, your thoughts were circling around Chris again.

What was the matter with him? It was when Jim put his hand on your arm and you saw Chris throwing another murderous stare your way that you realized what was happening.

Time for some fun, you thought, and leaned closer to your admirer to whisper into his ear.

“Would you be a dear and get us some more drinks?“

You laughed theatrically when he agreed, just for the effect, hoping Chris would see it. But when you looked up, he was nowhere to be found.

Jim was making his way to the bar now, so you decided to use the restroom real quick. You were just walking through the hallway, when suddenly, someone roughly grabbed your arm from behind you.

“You’re coming with me.” Chris growled and dragged you into the closest room, which did just happen to be his office.

As soon as the door slammed behind you, he had backed you up against it, his huge frame towering over you.

“Cuomo, what the fuck are you doing?” You spat, trying to get away, but his arms were on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. Your heart was beating like crazy, a sign of your treacherous body reacting to Chris’ closeness.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” Chris growled, “You like playing games with me?”

You were really annoyed now, he had no right to just treat you this way. But you couldn’t deny the the burn of arousal in your lower stomach at seeing him so worked up.

“Games? What’s your fucking problem, Cuomo? you can’t just drag me in here like that.”

“What were you doing with that asshole out there? That your new boyfriend?”

“Oh my god, are you serious?” You yelled back. “You were the one who basically kicked me out of your office the other day, and now you’re actually asking me-“

Before you could finish, Chris kissed you, pressing you against the door with his body. The kiss was almost brutal, his teeth clashing against yours, he bit your lip and his tongue plunged into your mouth.

It had you clawing your hands into his shirt, your arousal kickstarting as a noticeable bulge pressed against your stomach.

Your need for the man, that you had carefully bottled up for about a week now, was now hitting you with full force.

“What are you doing?” You gasped between kissed, your breath already rigged from arousal. You wanted him so bad, your whole body screaming to be touched by the man in front of you.

“Shut up.” Chris growled, his huge hands sliding under your dress to squeeze your ass. You moaned into his mouth, palming his rock hard erection through his trousers before starting to work on his belt buckle.

The groan Chris let out against the skin of your neck he was currently kissing sent a pool of wetness between your legs, and you doubled your efforts to finally get him out of his clothes.

When his huge cock finally sprung free, you couldn’t suppress a moan at the thought of feeling him inside you. It earned you a smug chuckle from Chris.

“Stop laughing and fuck me.”you whined, and he grabbed your panties, effortlessly tearing the thin lace from your body, bunching up your dress around your hips in the process, leaving your dripping core completely bare.

“Those were my favorites, Cuomo.” You growled, but he just gave you a sharp slap to your ass.

“I don’t fucking care, baby.”Chris replied, and before you could come up with a snarky remark, a huge finger slowly got pushed into you, making you throw your head back as you let out a needy whine.

“More, please.” You whispered.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby, I’ll give you everything you want.” Chris replied, withdrawing his fingers.

He picked you up and pushed you against the door with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. You didn’t care. He gave you one last hard stare before he slammed you down onto his cock without warning.

“Fuck.”You cried out , biting your fist to stop yourself from making any more noise, the office walls were thin.

“You like that baby? You think that damn boy out there could ever fuck you like that?”Chris pressed out, his hips thrusting in and out of you in a relentless pace. His brows were furrowed, teeth bared. He looked feral, aggressive, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs hard enough to bruise. You were transfixed by his face, your eyes locked on his as he pounded into you harder and harder.

“I asked you a fucking question, could he ever fuck you like that?”

“No, never.” You cried out, your voice almost breaking.

“Shit, Chris, don’t stop, please.” you pleaded, throwing your head back against the door with each of his thrusts. You were not above begging, there was that raw possessiveness in his voice and the way he manhandled you, and it drove you wild. You had fully succumbed to him by now, going limp in his arms as your body shook with every hard snap of his hips.

“Look at me.” Chris snarled, delivering a particularly forceful slam, making your head snap up, your eyes meeting his.

“That fucking punk won’t ever touch you again.“ Chris accentuated his words by grabbing you even more roughly.

“You’re being ridic-shiiit.” You groaned, as Chris pressed you down onto his cock, hitting that sweet spot. He was so deep inside you, and when he dug his nails into the flesh of your tights, the sweet flash of pain pushed you right over the edge.

All the built up tension of the last days left your body as you clenched around Chris cock, trying to muffle your cries by burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“That’s it, fucking squeeze my cock, baby.” He breathed into your ear, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before he tensed up and spilled inside you.

He lowered you back onto your feet and you slumped back against the door before Chris carefully maneuvered you over to his couch, sitting down beside you.

“Where the hell did that come from?”You broke the silence. You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around what just had happened, but there was no denying that you had enjoyed the hell out of it. Your body was still tingling with the afterglow of your orgasm.

“I did some thinking, and decided that I need to stop being an asshole and go for what I want.“ Chris shrugged. "I wanted to apologize and talk to you first. But when I saw this jerk putting his hands on you, I just snapped.“

“Glad you finally came to your senses, you were acting like a total idiot” you said, seriously at first, before a grin took over your face. “But I forgive you, we have a party to get back to, my bathroom break is already taking way too long. But how does dinner tomorrow night sound?”

“Great, actually.” Chris replied, giving you the first sincere smile that evening, and maybe the most sincere you had ever seen from him. "But stay away from that guy, or I’ll drag you in here again.“

[yicruz48]

Teen Titans Review: Annual #2 Part 2

August/26/2020

Part 1

This again pushes the narrative of Damian as the angry aggressor with no self-control nor a ability to be conscious of how his own actions hurt other people.

I am not denying that Damian hasn’t been extreme before or has a temper but if written correctly he would have enough awareness to feel guilt for what he did to Emiko and not act so aggressively towards Bruce.  

This is another section of the issue that I feel conflicted about how to feel about this for several reasons: 

-> The things Damian says in these panels aren’t all false : 

I wouldn’t be sincere in this review if I didn’t acknowledge the truth to Damian’s comparison. In the last two years real time the Wayne Manor has become a sort of coffin and tomb. A manor that only carries the echoes of those who used to live there. 

After a while, I could imagine it would be distressing to visit the Manor because it would remind them of the people who weren’t there anymore. 

-> I fear Anti’s will look at these panels and try to justify Damian as a bad person:

I asked my older brother (Who doesn’t know much about comics besides the bit I tell him) to read the interactions in this issue and give me his opinion on them. 

“To me it feels like the writer is trying to show Damian is conflicted and not in the right headspace therefore showing him erupting into a fight with Bruce violently but...I can definitely see how someone who doesn’t like Damian could turn this narrative against him.”  

And I agree with him. As much as dislike these direction in writing for Damian, I do see what Thompson was trying to do here (and since the beginning of the run). It hasn’t been executed well, but he has been trying to get the reader to sympathize with Damian (more than Glass that is). 

And I believe it is trying to show that Damian is at his wits end, not thinking right-well-I mean-Damian hasn’t been thinking right in TT since 2018, but I guess he’s really not in the right headspace. 

But I have the same fear that my brother mentioned, if you look at these same panels through the same lens of someone who doesn’t particularly like Damian you look at this and think is horrible. I can already imagine what they’d say:

“Look at how badly Damian treats his father!” 

Although your supposed to look at this as Damian having a outburst after keeping in it for so long and not being emotionally-neglected by his father.  

“Alfred’s death was hard for Bruce too, Damian needs to stop acting like he is the only one who is hurt.” 

Even though Bruce is an adult and Damian is a teen(a severely-damaged one at that) and you know...BRUCE DIDN’T COMFORT DAMIAN AFTER ALFRED DIED...

And this further expressed in Detective Comics where Damian causally mentions that he is surprised that his father contacted him. 

Like...um...Damian is a 13-year-old boy...are you really telling me Bruce hasn’t contacted his own underaged son especially after Alfred died? 

“Dick just got shot and lost his memories. He didn’t die. Why is he acting like he died?” 

I talk more about Damian’s and Dick’s relationship here. 

But to put it simply, Dick is one of the only people Damian trusts to be vulnerable with. Damian is extremely independent yet depends on him the most. This is expressed many times in the beginning of rebirth (specifically in the Nightwing and Batman comics). Losing that connection is extremely damaging to Damian.

Moving on, I actually appreciated this scene with Crush. I happy that she kept the group from intervening between Bruce and Damian. 

With the track record of how “great” the Teen Titans are at handling situations them getting in the middle of the fight would’ve made this worse. 

Plus I liked that she recognized that this was something personal. So far, I’ve felt like the majority of the Teen Titans have antagonized Damian and it felt refreshing to see Crush realize that Damian’s actions are more personal than they thought.  

But at the same time, I don’t know how to take this. I feel like they also wrote this in order prop her up to be the new leader in the next issues so at the same time it feels a little insincere.  

I already said this in part 1 of the review but I am grateful for the decency DC or Thompson had to give us some personal reasonings for his actions, but again, it doesn’t work as a good trigger nor does it hold the same hype it would’ve if written earlier when it happened, not months after it happened.

One of the only things about these panels that I have to say is  that I saw some people theorizing on twitter that perhaps Damian was expecting to be punished by his father because of how his other brothers have been treated by Bruce. But I really don’t know myself how to interpret it. 

Why is Damian questioning why Bruce isn’t fighting back? 

-> Was he expecting Bruce to punish him? 

-> Was Damian expecting  his father to challenge his new beliefs?

Because Bruce doesn’t really challenge Damian’s beliefs at the end, if anything, it seems like Bruce gives up trying to reason with Damian. 

Which is sad if you look back to this panel in Batman and Robin 2011:

Jumping back on track, and then we have this panel: 

Which is yet again another panel that I feel conflicted about. 

I guess it’s nice Bruce finally told his son that he loves him, but also it’s a little to late now. Bruce should’ve expressed compassion to Damian when he had the chance, and he had a lot chances to do this: 

-> On his 13th birthday.

-> By being more involved in his life. 

-> When Dick got shot to remind Damian he had someone there for him despite Dick not being there. 

-> When Alfred died in front of him. That was most likely traumatizing for him, would’ve been nice to have someone there to comfort him. 

I feel like I keep repeating myself, but again, this four pages are difficult to interpret. 

 “Everything...lead...to...THIS” 

-> I’m taking this as Damian concluding that being Robin (and everything that encompasses including the no killing rule) lead to him losing people he loved and eventually not being Robin.

“You will never truly see me so long as I am in your shadow.”

-> Damian thinking that Bruce won’t take him seriously if he is Robin? 

-> Thinking that Bruce won’t ever truly see who he really is if he is Robin?

“Now I am finally free.”

-> Damian implicating that being Robin was a burden and/or restricted him from doing what he thinks is “right?”  

As a Damian stan the last four pages were the most painful to read. Seeing Damian leave the Robin title frustrates me soo much. 

Conclusions and Predictions:

-> This issue was not as bad as I thought (but still bad): 

For one, I am glad Bruce didn’t beat up Damian. 

I am glad they had the decency to give Damian more personal reasons to go down this path even if it was late. 

-> (I’m gonna start talking about the art more in my reviews) 

Pansica is a very talented artist BUT I personally don’t think he was the best choice to draw a comic with teens. The adults in this issue were drawn great but I feel like drawing teens is not his strong point. 

There was points in this comics were Damian looked unpleasant and I think it was because Pansica tends to be very detailed although a lot detail does a disservice to drawing teens. As a artist myself, I lay off the details when drawing children since it often ages them more if you put more detail. 

Maiolo’s colors are good. I don’t know if it was a conscious decision or not but the dullness of the color really emphasizes the darker vibe of this issue. 

-> Thompson didn’t fail me this issue, he still manage to make me hate Roundhouse more than last issue :)

He also really pushed that unnecessary Emiko X Wallace ship in the middle of this issue. I think the bothers me about this relationship is that they gotten closer because of Damian killing. I really don’t vibe with that.

-> Bruce just suddenly offering a hug after giving Damian death stares at the beginning just confuses me. 

-> Teen Titan’s didn’t ever take Deathstroke go and basically let him go unless he’ll be appearing next issue. 

-> So far Damian sucks as being a villian/anti-hero, he failed both at killing KGBeast and Deathstroke. 

-> Hate that once again, most of the blame was thrown at Damian.

->To Damian, being Robin was the best thing to happen to him.  

It allowed him to see the mistakes in his past(that he was made to do) and work towards becoming a better person...in other words, it granted him an opportunity to redeem himself. 

Not only that, but it granted him the opportunity to honor the people who helped him become a better person (Dick and Bruce).

And even Damian felt like he needed to “prove” that he could be Robin because I think even Damian felt like he didn’t deserve it or wasn’t good enough. 

What this comic has done with him is atrocious and will always be no matter the outcome. 

I have a petition related to Damian here. I would appreciate it if you shared and signed. 

[fanartfunart]

My art progression as showcased through dragons as I avoid doing schoolwork:

2014: I had recently received a digital tablet. Promptly made drawings of long-haired people from behind because I hated drawing humans, and also loved backgrounds and animals more. I do everything on one layer because I’m a child who just transferred over from paper. Probably didn’t even know what a layer was. I exclusively drew dragons (and most everything) in profile. 8/10: I actually had awesome style as a teenager and these are definitely dragons. Storytelling also on point. Everything is a little stiff though.

(cont. under cut)

2014 (part 2): A gigantic leap as I figure out how the heck to color digitally in a way that’s not purely airbrushing everything in. Bright colors show up. I still draw humans flat and as minor details. Animals are still my best friends. Everything becomes absurdly long and angular for far too long starting from here. 5/10: Awkward and lanky. And my mountains got worse, lost all sense of texture and style. There’s no emotion.

2015: Everything is fuzzy. I am obsessed with trying to capture texture but I’m also a teenager and do not know how to capture texture. I also discovered the beauty of making OCs that have weird weird colors and designs. Background creatures remain to be weird sketchy things because I still don’t use base sketches for backgrounds. 3/10: proportions got weird again and the wings are a gigantic downgrade from 2014 me.

2015 (part 2): I continue to be a teenager obsessed with texture and playing with weird settings in digital art. I learn what layers are and why they’re helpful. I exclusively use this knowledge for separating background from foreground.  1/10: He has no legs and no personality and I didn’t know what I was doing. The initial paper drawing was better.

2016: This is for a biology project where we made up our own creatures.... I personally am not sure if I count this as a dragon. I get into My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, and everything becomes cute and fluffy, what can I say. I also learned I’m allowed to not use the default canvas and change it. IDK I start drawing After the Fall‘s early concept art and superhero ocs. There’s a distinct lack of normal dragons. 5/10: It feels more like Modern Me and the personality has returned, but also it’s also unsure if this counts as a dragon or a weird bat creature.

2017: I am still obsessed with my superhero ocs, but I’ve given some of them a dragon friend. I also draw almost exclusively in character-only style and the once prominent backgrounds dwindle to nothingness. dragons gain actual scale texture and I still do everything on only 2 layers. My humans are prominent but long, unusual beanpoles. 10/10: I still love this dragon baby and this is an excellent showcase of personal artistic growth. Look at his innocent little face. He’s got personality and is 100% a dragon.

2018: I begin to use layers more thoughtfully, and even tried making a “lighting” layer. I decide this is a bad idea. This marks the start of the Ombre Wings which remains present in the Daydream AU. People remain lanky and perspective is also wonky. This also marks the end of an era, as I abandon all my superheros due to my co-creator/partner dumping me. 5/10: The lighting got worse from every version before. Also all definition in my backgrounds disappeared... why.

2018 (part 2): I get a tumblr and get into Sanders Sides. I make the Daydream au. Virgil is the first non-furry dragon I make with ears??? I abandon trying to draw scale textures for working on perspective and lighting. Shading gets a little flatter again, but I’m also more mindful of actual lighting sources, so it’s forgivable. Dragons return to being Very Big in comparison to people. 8/10: Good memories. The start of an era. Most consistently I’d drawn dragons in a while at this point in time.

2019: Cartoon big eyes become the Standard.  Things have started to become very flowy and soft. I draw a lot of babies which translates to everyone becoming a bit stockier in adult versions too. (This is good because everyone stopped being weirdly long). I add sprinkles of scale-shading back in. Looking back, claws begin to be more paw-like than actual claws in comparison to 2017′s lizard-y claws. 9/10: Designs are on Point and expressions are getting real nice. I’ve finally figured out how to lock and shade layers. Also Babies.

2020: I’ve got AtF going again, and I branch back into making non-scaled dragons. Texture is a Thing, and I make a lot of digital brushes for textures I use a lot. I start using my new coloring technique more regularly. 9/10: about the same since 2019 dragons-wise, but the process has gotten smother and faster. The point off is both an attempt at pretending to be humble while also being aware that my art will change no matter what, and I will think that is better so that potential is There (except for 2017. That’s perfection. The most adorable dragon I’ve ever drawn.)

2021: Despite the fact I’ve gotten really into DnD and despite Dragons being in the name, I have not drawn barely any DnD dragons. There are no colored dragon drawings in the first 2 months of 2021 and this is a flaw. -10/10: no dragons.

[bbyboybrock--archived]

The Assistant (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* I saw your request are open what about dating colby and the trap house gets an assistant like how David dobrik has Natalie and reader gets jealous cause the assistant is openly flirting with Colby regardless of him having a girlfriend

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,716

Warnings: Swearing, angst?, possible cheating?

Masterlist

“I know I’m the first to preach about women supporting women and all that. But I swear to God, if this bitch makes one more pass at Colby in front of me it’s on sight. Look at her, you can’t tell me that she isn’t dressed like that just to get his attention.” I say to Kat and Tara. I invited them over to relax and try to get them to see what I have to deal with daily.

The boys have a new live-in assistant; which is fine. Having an assistant is kind of like the newest trend right now. Like everyone on YouTube suddenly getting an editor. Which is fine; I pay Reggie everyone in a while to help me edit my videos. Don’t get me wrong, having an assistant in our lives was great when we lived in the apartment. Zoe would come over to our place a couple of times a week. She would openly flirt with Colby, but at the end of the day, she crawled back to wherever her broom brought her from. But when the guys decided to move into the trap house 2.0 they decided to let her take the spare room. And then quarantine happened so we were all stuck in the house together.

The flirting was always subtle, so I didn’t pick on it at first. Maybe it was because I was rarely there when all of the guys were together, so I wouldn’t notice that Colby was getting more attention than Sam, Jake, or Corey. She would occasionally, “forget” something at our apartment. Sometimes she would call at random hours “asking for help.” I didn’t realize that she was an actual threat until I came home from a meeting one day and caught her trying to sink her claws into Colby. And my sweet, innocent, stupid boyfriend thinks she’s just friendly. Secretly, I think he just likes the attention.

Since moving into the house, she’s gotten bolder. First, she started working in whatever room Colby was in. Then, she started wearing fewer clothes. Not to slut-shame anyone, people can wear whatever they want, but when your style changes ever so subtly and without notice it’s bound to get the attention of your roommates. It was like she went from Hannah Montana to Kim Kardashian in a day. To make matters worse, she started copying my styles. I dye my hair one color, she dyes it the same color a week later. Her clothes started to reflect mine. It was almost like she had the mindset that if Colby was going to ignore her, she had to make herself someone he wouldn’t ignore, me.

All of the guys think I’m overreacting, Sam and Jake know better. Kat and Tara would make their lives hell if the situation was different. I’ve told her to stop countless times, and I tried to get Colby to talk to her, but either he hasn't or she’s ignoring him. Colby doesn’t like drama and tried to avoid it as much as possible. I mean, I do too, but I’m not beyond being petty. Some of the fans have started to take notice and I’ve been liking tweets or any post that mentions of Zoe trying to seduce Colby.

“Y/N, I get where you’re coming from, but maybe it’s nothing. I mean, Colby hasn’t done anything and Zoe technically hasn’t tried anything so I think you’re fine. Maybe quarantine is getting to you.” Kat says trying to reassure me.

“Yeah, maybe we should do like a social distancing girls’ road trip with Xeph, Devyn, and Cass,” Tara suggests.

“That sounds like a great idea, but no offense, I’m not going to let little that little minx get to opportunity to ruin my relationship while I’m gone.” I glare at Zoe hanging around Colby in her too-small bikini that definitely doesn’t cover everything. She’s practically sitting on his lap when there is a perfectly good seat near Corey.

“Even if she is hitting on Colby, shouldn’t you trust Colby to do the right thing? Like, trust him enough to not give in to her advances.” Kat asks. I finally take my eyes off the guys and turn to Kat and Tara.

“I trust him, and I’m confident enough to know that Colby loves me more than anything and wouldn’t do that to me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get upset when girls are quite literally, throwing themselves at him. I mean, you two know more than anything, you have to have thick skin and confidence to date a social media influencer, especially our boys.” I don’t want to mention to Tara and Kat that Colby has been known to take the coward’s way out of a relationship by cheating on a girl so she would break up with him. Not that I’m sure he’s going to do that, we’ve been dating long enough, but you can never be too sure.

“She has a point, I know Jake wouldn’t cheat on me. But if I had to live here and had to endure watching some bitch trying to steal my man every day, it would be on sight. I don’t care that I’m short, I’ll fuck her up.” Tara says before lying back down and tanning.

“Thank you!” I decided to take a small break and tan regularly with Tara to avoid awkward tan lines from the way that I’m turning to check on Zoe and make sure she doesn’t try anything.

“Theoretically speaking, not that I’m manifesting it or anything, but let’s say Colby did give into Zoe’s advances. What would you do?” Kat asks after a few moments of silence.

“That depends…” I think for a few minutes of what I would do if Colby did cheat on me.

“What do you mean it depends? You should break up with him if he does cheat.” Tara interjects.

“No, I get that. If Colby ever did cheat on me, I would move out of our room and stay in the guest room until I got my own place or if someone would let me crash at their place for a bit. Would I be petty about it on the internet? Probably not, but that depends on how badly he fucked up. But, and this is a big but, but if Zoe like forced herself on him and like basically either somehow forced him to sleep with her or kiss him, and I knew that for a fact, I would beat her ass. And I’m not a violent person, you two know that, but if I have to fight a bitch I will; Zoe or any girl who tries to make pass at Colby.”

“Y/N, if you have to a fight a bitch could you call me so I could watch? Or at least film it for me? I really want to see someone throw hands.” Tara asks, sitting up and sharing a big grin.

“Tara, you might not have to wait too long for that. Y/N, look,” Kat points at the little bar area where the guys said they were having a meeting and making TikToks. I turn around in time to see Zoe showing Colby a bottle of sunscreen. She’s either asking him to help her get sunscreen on her back or asking if she can put sunscreen on him. Either way, she’s hoping that someone’s hands are going to be on someone else.

“Oh fuck no,” I stand up and practically run to stop any of this from happening. I hear Kat and Tara run up behind me.

“Oh shit…” Corey mutters under his breath when he sees the three of us coming. Sam, Jake, and Corey step back so they’re not on the battlefield.

“Speaking of the girls— We were just talking about you three. Zoe here was asking if I could help her get sunscreen on her back. I was telling her that maybe one of you could help her.” Colby says when he sees me. He looks uncomfortable but relieved now that I’m here.

“We can help with that. Sam, Jake, you two better come with us too, you’re looking a bit pale. Corey, I’m sure Zoe could help you out, right Zoe?” Tara says, standing next to me.

“Y/N, you got Colby, right?” Kat adds, trying to make our dislike of Zoe noticeable.

“Oh, yeah, definitely, I can take care of my boyfriend.” I smile at Zoe as she glares at all three of us but walks over to Kat and Tara. They lead her near the house and Jake, Sam, and Corey follow in tow. Colby and I are the only two left.

“Oh thank God, you save my ass back there,” Colby says as he engulfs me in a hug.

“Uh-huh, I’m just glad you didn’t do something stupid, like put your hands all over some other girl.”

“I’m not that dumb, I love sleeping in our bed next to you. One fuck up like that and I’m stuck on the couch indefinitely.” Colby places his hands on either side of my cheeks and kisses my forehead. I know he’s joking, but I’m glad that he’s starting to realize that Zoe is creepy.

We hear a scream from behind us. We both whip our heads around in sync. Kat and Tara pushed Zoe into the pull while Corey, Jake, and Sam try hard to suppress their laughter. I flat out laugh and run out to join Kat and Tara in their merriment. We’re having so much fun watching Zoe paddle to the other side of the pool and climb out. She definitely wasn’t planning on getting in the water, at least, not all the way in. Her makeup is running down her face. We’re enjoying this so much that we don’t notice each of our boyfriends sneak up behind us. They grab each of us and throw us in the pool. All four of the boys jump in after and we’re soon having a pool party while Zoe dries off in the corner. I look up at Colby, who is trying to take down Corey with Jake. He stops long enough to sign me ‘I love you.’ I sign him back that I love him too.

[scoutception]

Yet again ranking the 5 animes I’ve watched most recently

After losing the will to just sit down and watch it for quite a while, I’ve finally gotten through 5 anime series yet again, and, as is tradition for me by now, I’ve decided to just type out my thoughts and rankings of them, with my first two posts of this nature being here and here. As usual, this is just my personal thoughts, and the only other thing worth noting before I start is that, unlike last time, I do think everything listed here is at least decent on its own. With that, I’ll just get to it. 5. Robotics;Notes

Number of episodes: 22. Language options: dub and subs available. Streaming availability: Funimation. Robotics;Notes is an adaptation of a visual novel, which I actually just wrote a review on, which can be found here. Long story short, it’s the third entry in the Science Adventure series, the same series Steins;Gate is part of, unknown to most people, with Robotics;Notes technically being the sequel to it. Originally aired in 2012, the same year as the visual novel was released, and made by Production I.G, Robotics;Notes is in an interesting middle ground between the acclaimed and popular Steins;Gate animes and the downright awful and obscure Chaos;Head and Chaos;Child animes, and until 2020 was the only option those who didn’t speak Japanese had to experience it at all. Since I went into so much detail in said visual novel review, I’m mostly going to focus on how the anime holds up both by itself and as an adaptation. Ever since its creation nearly ten years ago, the dream of the Chuo Tanegashima High Robotics Research Club has been to finish Gunbuild-1, a lifesize recreation of Gunvarrel, the titular mecha of an insanely popular anime that’s credited with starting a “robot boom” within Japan, and the club’s current president, Akiho Senomiya, the little sister of the club’s founder, Misaki Senomiya, is extremely determined to see this dream achieved. Unfortunately for her, the club has fallen on hard times, with its funding being cut, its advisor being completely unreliable, and the few other members it has, namely Kaito Yashio, Subaru Hidaka, Junna Daitoku, and Kona Furugoori, aka Frau Koujiro, being quite difficult in their own ways, and often more than Akiho can handle. While Akiho puts her all into finally bringing the club to greatness, the otherwise apathetic Kaito finds himself involved with a mysterious AI called Airi, who exists within the augmented reality app IRUO. Airi’s creator, the deceased Kou Kimijima, turns out to have also created several AR annotations scattered throughout Tanegashima, titled the Kimijima Reports, which warn of a grand conspiracy that will utterly devastate humanity if unopposed. I’m not the most unbiased viewer, since I had played, and enjoyed, the visual novel months before watching this anime, but generally, it’s actually an enjoyable time. Some of Robotics;Notes’ biggest strengths were always its cast of characters and lighter tone, and for the most part, the anime preserves both well, keeping it mostly silly, but endearing early on. The artstyle actually matches up fairly well with the VN’s CGs, and the dub, which I watched just to spice things up, since I already knew the Japanese voice cast was quite good, is overall solid, with Clifford Chapin as Kaito, Lindsay Seidel as Akiho, and Monica Rial as Junna especially sticking out to me. As an adaptation, on the other hand, it falls short in quite a few places, namely when it comes to characterization. While obviously, no adaptation could feasibly fit in every detail from its source material, the Steins;Gate anime managed to preserve almost all of its cast’s characterization, whereas in Robotics;Notes, several characters lose prominent details to their backstories or personal conflicts, or act differently in scenes unrelated to that, making quite a few of them come off different. While instances of the latter case, such as Junna coming off as less shy and hesitant, don’t necessarily worsen anything for the most part, the former definitely does, as it makes the affected characters much less developed and interesting. Nobody suffers from this worse than Kaito himself, who loses most of his backstory, motivations, and arc, to the point of one of his best moments being changed from something intentional to completely accidental, with the end result making him come off as a completely different character, and an inferior one, at that. Additionally, around episode 16, the anime starts diverging pretty significantly from the VN, and not in ways that are improvements, to the point it even leaves a few otherwise preserved scenes in earlier episodes without context. Overall, I can imagine the Robotics;Notes anime still being a decent, if unremarkable watch on its own, and was certainly an interesting and fun way to reexperience the story, and definitely fares better than many visual novel adaptations, but I can’t quite say I’d recommend it. If Robotics;Notes interests you, the visual novel is very much preferred. 4. Nichijou

Number of episodes: 26. Language options: dub and subs available. Streaming options: Funimation. Here we have one of the most acclaimed anime comedies out there, an adaptation of Keiichi Arawi’s surreal sketch comedy manga series, produced by Kyoto Animation, a name that’ll be showing up here again later. Nichijou mainly focuses on two different trios of characters. There’s the ordinary high school girls Yuuko Aioi, a rather dim and reckless girl with terrible luck, Mio Naganohara, the most relatively normal one of the cast, whenever she’s not having explosive freak outs that involve beating people up, and Mai Minakami, a stoic girl who enjoys messing with people just for their reactions. On the other hand, there’s the far less ordinary Shinonome Laboratories trio of Professor Shinonome, an 8 year old girl who happens to be capable of building incredibly advanced machines, Nano Shinonome, a robot built by the Professor who desperately desires a normal girl more than anything, and Sakamoto, their pet cat who, thanks to a special scarf also made by the Professor, is capable of talking. The series focuses on their would-be ordinary lives, were it not for the seemingly daily chaos they get involved in, from witnessing the school principal wrestle a wild deer, to being trapped in an elevator for hours, to the school science teacher attempting to capture Nano for study. It also follows the antics of several other side characters, such Koujiro Sasahara, the seemingly upper class student who is actually just the son of a family of farmers, to Misato Tachibana, a very typical tsundere towards Sasahara, whose tsun side manifests as assaulting him with military-grade weapons, to little effect, to the equally quirky teachers of their school. Needless to say, it’s a very silly and chaotic series, and that’s exactly what makes it so memorable. The humor is pretty hit and miss in the first half of the series, but from episode 14 onwards, they thoroughly master it, with every episode having at least a few scenes that got me laughing. Beyond the silliness, though, the series actually has a lot of heart to it. There’s a few moments that change up the status quo, or even develop the characters just a bit, and some scenes are surprisingly sweet, if still played for laughs more often than not. There’s also a lot of continuity, which in later episodes often provide the punchlines to some of the best gags, which definitely encourages watching the whole series. The Japanese voice acting is fittingly crazy for each character, and the animation fits perfectly, as while the character designs are quite simple, there’s many would be mundane moments that have contrasting overly impressive and exaggerated animation that makes them very memorable. All in all, Nichijou is a very enjoyable series once it finds its groove, and about the only reason its not higher on my rankings is just because pure comedies aren’t really one of my favorite genres. Still, if you ever want a good laugh, you can’t go wrong with this. 3. Soul Eater

Number of episodes: 51. Language options: dub and subs available. Streaming availability: Netflix, Funimation. Soul Eater is yet another adaptation, this time of a manga by Atsushi Ōkubo, produced by Studio Bones, who also did the Fullmetal Alchemist animes, and is quite similar to the original FMA series in that it outpaced the manga and, rather than simply overloading itself with filler, decided to go in an entirely different direction by the end. The Death Weapon Meister Academy is a school founded by Death himself, dedicated to the training of Meisters, who wield Weapons, humans with the ability to shapeshift into weapons, for the purpose of destroying Kishin Eggs, evil beings who have consumed the souls of others, and pose the risk of transforming into extremely dangerous demons. Any Meister who can collect the souls of these corrupted beings, as well as the soul of a Witch, can transform their Weapon into a Death Scythe, the personal arms of Death. Among the students of the DWMA are seven Meisters and Weapons who stand out in particular: the teams of Maka Albarn, a kind hearted and responsible, though temperamental, girl, her Weapon, Soul “Eater” Evans, a laidback and snarky wannabe “cool” guy, Black Star, a prideful and loudmouthed ninja who’s seemingly always out to make a spectacle of himself, regardless of how it hampers him, his Weapon, Tsubaki, a humble and levelheaded woman, Death the Kid, the son of Death and one of the top students in the cool, held back only by a crippling obsession with symmetry, and his Weapons, Liz and Patty Thompson. While these seven gradually come together as a team, a Witch named Medusa begins to put an ambitious and destructive plan into motion, one involving her “child”, Crona, and the strange, insanity inducing black blood that courses through their veins. Soul Eater has a lot going for it. A likeable and crazy cast of characters, even the side ones, like the maniacal Doctor Stein, or the surprisingly goofy and casual Death, or the tragic Crona, or the hilariously egotistical Excalibur, to a lot of fun action scenes, to its great animation and overall unique visual design, including the sun and moon having giant, creepy laughing faces. It has a lighthearted, comedic tone that doesn’t detract from the serious moments, and the main characters get some pretty good development as the series goes on. The dub is also great, with Laura Bailey as Maka, Micah Solusod as Soul, Brittney Karbowski as Black Star, and Todd Haberkorn as Death the Kid especially sticking out to me. In general, I don’t have a lot of significant criticisms, besides how the story is handled once the villainous organization Arachnophobia is introduced, which is also about where it begins to deviate from the manga. Most of the villains part of it never really feel like a threat, and the story becomes much more simple and typical compared to how the manga went, and when the ending arrives, it just kinda, happens, with several notable subplots just kinda left unfinished. It definitely feels like an underwhelming ending, and is a big reason why I place this lower on the list, but Soul Eater is still a pretty entertaining watch that’s worth a try if you want a decently lengthy, but not horribly long shonen. 2. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya

Number of episodes: 28. Language options: dub and subs available. Streaming availability: Funimation. Here we have the big one, an extremely memetic and famous series by Kyoto Animation, based on a series of light novels by Nagaru Tanigawa, a series that was finally completed back in November 2020 after its start in 2003. Kyon is a lazy and down to earth high school student who wishes for little more for himself than an uneventful, normal high school life- a hope that’s abruptly shattered when, on a whim, he becomes involved with Haruhi Suzumiya, an eccentric, hyperactive, and thoroughly self centered girl, who claims to have no interest in ordinary humans, and instead wishes to discover things thoroughly unusual, such as aliens, time travelers, or espers, and forces Kyon to form a club, the SOS Brigade, with her to achieve this. Haruhi quickly pulls three other students into the brigade, those being Yuki Nagato, a stoic and quiet bookworm, Mikuru Asahina, a shy and passive girl often subjected to humiliation and abuse by Haruhi, and Itsuki Koizumi, a calm transfer student who acts extremely subservient to Haruhi. While Kyon initially writes off the club as an unreasonable use of his time, his fellow members reveal an unexpected truth to him: the subjects of Haruhi’s fascinations actually do exist. Yuki is an alien, of a sort, created and controlled by an entity known as the Data Overmind, Mikuru is a time traveler from some point in the future, and Itsuki is an esper, and member of an organization of similar people. All three of them have been sent to observe the oblivious Haruhi, who appears to have the unconscious ability to change reality itself according to her desires, and is at threat of remaking the entire world if not placated. With Haruhi apparently having taken a unique interest in Kyon, he finds himself taken along for all sorts of supernatural adventures spawned from Haruhi’s whims. There’s a lot I could go on about regarding Haruhi, but in the interest of not turning this into a full on rant, I’ll keep shortish. It’s more or less an insane mishmash of several different genres, from slice of life, to science fiction, to fantasy, just depending on what each individual story feels like being. The episodes are mostly adapted from the early light novels, mostly the multiple stories from the third and fifth novels, The Boredom and The Rampage of Haruhi Suzumiya, respectively. It’s not often you’ll have any idea just what to expect from each individual episode, which makes the series very chaotic, but interesting. The characters are likeable and memorable, including the side characters, and the sheer ridiculousness of what goes on makes for many amusing moments. At the same time, the series is surprisingly complex, with many possible interpretations of its characters and the events they go through, furthered by the antics Kyoto Animation pulled when it was originally airing, such as airing the episodes out of chronological order, meaning the plot would often jump from the middle of an arc to something else. The end result is a very unique and enjoyable product, helped by the fantastic dub, with the actors capturing each character perfectly, from Crispin Freeman as the grounded and snarky Kyon, to Wendee Lee as the aggressively energetic Haruhi, to Stephanie Sheh as the gentle, yet secretive Mikuru. That said, there is one pretty disappointing part of it all, and that’s the second season, mostly thanks to the infamous Endless Eight arc, an eight part arc that’s more or less the same things happening over and over, with only the first and last episodes having anything noticeably different. Regardless of its own uniqueness, more than half the season is taken over by this, and something that may have worked if cut down to three or four episodes instead singlehandedly killed off the series’ goodwill. About the only redeeming factor of the second season is the five part adaptation of The Sigh of Haruhi Suzumiya, which has some of the funniest moments in the whole series. Overall, Haruhi is still a very fun series, and I’m really gonna have to watch its movie, The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya, one of these days. 1. Trigun

Number of episodes: 26. Language options: dub and subs available. Streaming availability: Funimation, Hulu. Finishing off this list is an adaptation of a manga series by Yasuhiro Nightow, produced by Madhouse and another adaptation that overtook its source material. Compared to how Soul Eater handled it, however, Trigun went down much, much better, to the point Nightow himself had nothing but praise for how the anime turned out, and the series is generally considered one of the best animes of the late 90′s. On the harsh desert planet of Gunsmoke lives a wandering gunslinger known as Vash the Stampede, the “Humanoid Typhoon” with a large handgun known to leave tremendous destruction in his wake, who amassed a bounty of $$60,000,000,000 after destroying the city of July, leading to an endless trail of bounty hunters out to collect the price on his head. In the middle of all this, Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson, two representatives of an insurance society which is often forced to pay for damages caused by Vash, track him down for the purposes of minimizing the chaos he causes. Upon catching up with him, however, the duo discovers that, contrary to his reputation, Vash is a kindhearted goof, and self proclaimed hunter of love and peace, who absolutely refuses to ever take another person’s life, even at great personal risk to himself. Vash continues his travels carefree, helping out whoever he can, with the occasional assistance of Meryl and Milly, as well as a traveling priest known as Nicholas D. Wolfwood, only to one day have an encounter with a mysterious and cruel man known as Legato Bluesummers. Vash soon learns that Legato has hired a group of assassins known as the Gung-Ho Guns to kill Vash, and leave a trail of bodies wherever they go, seemingly for the sole purpose of tormenting Vash. As Vash hunts down Legato, he is gradually forced to face his past, and consider whether he can truly stay committed to his pacifist ideals. In general, Trigun is just a very, very well made series. It has a likeable and developed cast of characters, with special mention going to Vash, who is a very compelling and sympathetic character, and Wolfwood, who makes a great foil to Vash with very interesting development of his own, with characters outside of the main cast being memorable as well, from Legato himself, to even some of the more minor villains, such as the varied members of the Gung-Ho Guns, or Brilliant Dynamites Neon, who makes an inexplicably strong impression for a one off villain not even important to the overall plot. The space western setting is quite good, and the designs are great, with many villains having distinctive looks that further help them make an impression. The action is great, and the animation is also quite good, and has that 90′s anime charm. The dub, while a bit rough around the edges, is generally solid too. From Lia Sargent as the ditzy but kind Milly, to Dorothy Elias Fahn as the hotheaded Meryl, to Jeff Nimoy as the weary Wolfwood, to Richard Cansino as the calculating and disturbing Legato, with special mention needing to go to Johnny Yong Bosch as Vash. Despite it actually being his first voice acting role ever, he does a great job in portraying the many sides to Vash, and absolutely sells many of the biggest moments in the story. Speaking of which, the series started quite lighthearted and wacky, with the first four episodes actually being filler, but gets gradually darker as it goes on. The earlier episodes are still quite enjoyable on their own, though, and manage to slowly reveal new aspects to Vash in each one, before finally setting his nature in stone in episode 5. What really sells the series and makes it so memorable, however, are the themes it explores, of the practicality of unwavering pacifism, and whether taking a life, whether for heinous crimes committed without remorse, or with the purpose of protecting others, is ever justifiable. While quite a few series have touched dilemmas like this before, what makes Trigun stand out with it is the emphasis placed upon it throughout the whole series, with many episodes touching upon it in some regard. It genuinely fairly looks at the different sides of it all, and the consequences of each, with many emotional moments coming from it as a result. While the manga did ultimately take a very different turn from the anime, the anime actually preserves several of the most important plot moments, and manages to come to a satisfactory conclusion of its own regarding the themes. Ultimately, Trigun makes for a very fun and interesting watch that I highly recommend. And with that, my ranking is complete. With the exception of Robotics;Notes, I can pretty confidently recommend every show on this list. Got some more shows I plan to get through soon, so another ranking like this may be soon in the making. Either way, till next time. -Scout