#which this weekend is meant to be!!!

[skylarkblue]

I'm...sad? I don't know. I was so excited for the stuff I was writing and now all the joy has vanished from my life. I feel empty and horrible and like nothing will ever change, and I just...I don't know.

[bluerosefox]

Our Well Deserved Break

Its

Shenanigans (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Time again!~

-x-x-

Danny, our boy the Ghost King, looking over a small team going over relic's given or 'offered' to Pariah Dark over the years both before and after he was sealed away. As they're taking inventory of the chaotic offering room, they stumble across a certain artifact.

This artifact is able to summon a set number of people (it does have its limits) of the users wishes to them and it sets up a barrier around the surrounding place so no one summoned gets out. You know, those kinds of artifact's certain people use to summon heroes and or villains into a room and have them fight to see whose the strongest or for a tournament, Yeah that kind of artifact!

Danny, who found the item, takes a look at after being told what it does. Then out of the corner of his eye he spots himself in a mirror in the room and see's his crown floating above his head and feels the full weight of his responsibility since before and after his crowning. Yes he had help with his advisor, despite how cryptid he can be at times, and of his council but still the weight was a bit too much for a teenager like him.

An idea struck his mind when he hears the ticking of a clock behind him. Without saying a word Danny looks back and raises an eyebrow at Clockwork whose staring at him in silence as well. He glances at the item, tilts his head a bit before...

Smiles in only the way CW knows would both be good for Danny and amusing for him. He nods and says "One weekend should be fine. All timelines will be paused for them. I suggest telling your friends to help prepare for your guests. Enjoy and have fun my King."

"YES!" Danny's voice echoing in the offering room made many ghosts in the room jump for a bit.

This was totally going to be fun!

-x-x-

When the following weekend arrived, young and very stressed teen heroes from across the multiverse are suddenly pulled from their worlds and are summoned into the Infinite Realms. Before any of them can panic or start fights a voice rang out above them and when they looked they could see a young teen, with a crown floating above his head, white hair, and glowing green eyes sitting on a throne.

He smiled and said

"Welcome fellow stressed out Heroes and Heroines to Phantom's Keep! I'm King Phantom, recently crowned fifteen year old, and this is the Infinite Realms! The birth and ending of the multiverse afterlife! Now don't worry none of you are dead or anything like that. I summoned you all here for one reason and one reason only..."

Here Danny paused, just to troll a tiny bit, and could see some of the more tense heroes readying up for a fight or at least argue to let them go. He grinned though and then said.

"And thats.... TO HAVE FUN!"

After that he floated out of his throne and with a flourish in the air he waved his hands and his throne room changed with party decor all around. Tables off to the side appeared with food and drinks from well everywhere and anywhere the multiverse, balloons rose from the ground and floated upwards, streamers flew across above to attach themselves to the other sides, the castle lights shifted to a dim and music began playing from somewhere.

Danny grinned brightly down at them and their shocked faces. oh that's funny, thank goodness Tucker is recording this and Jazz is gonna scrapbook this party for him (she plans on making them for all the guests as a party gift later, you know to remember how fun the party was)

"Now all of you are stressed out teen heroes with a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders! Believe me, I know that feeling, been there done that still doing it even now! But! My advisor says this will be both fun for me and good for you guys to spend one whole weekend here to de-stress and have fun! I do have some ground rules though. One your timelines are in fact PAUSED, you don't have to worry about calling your parents or if you got mentors to let them know where you are at. Two you are all heroes here, many of you are from different worlds and if you are from the same world they already know or CAN be trusted with your real identities but you are NOT required to remove any masks or de-transform or anything like that, if you wish there are masks on that green table over there you can stick on if you want to keep your identities hidden and are spelled to stay on and fuzz the minds of anyone trying to remember your looks once its on, even if they catch a good look at you right now it'll fuzz their memories of you once the mask is on and even after the party don't worry we thought of the time. Three, boys and girls rooms will be at different wings within the Keep! Just ask any of the maid or butler ghosts that will be joining us shortly and they will guide you to the rooms! Fourthly! There are sparing rooms if you wanna test your strengths with others, I only ask please don't get too carried away. We are here to have fun not make enemies! and lastly PLEASE DO NOT try to leave the castle, we are in the very afterlife of the multiverse people, its like the ocean and even I find it hard to navigate it sometimes. Portals can open up to any and all worlds, different timelines, etc etc. I have key items here in the castle that can pinpoint YOUR timeline and world so when the party is over I can send you home no problem, so again please do not attempt to leave."

Danny paused to take a breath, okay ground rules set up and warnings given. He could see the absolute bewildered looks on all the heroes faces and held back a laugh. He smiled however when one of the teens, mask on his face already and dressed in green, yellow, and red asked 'Why?'

"Why? Well... I think its time us teens get to have some fun without worrying about the next big bad or world ending event. Even if just for a weekend, we do deserve a break. So... Lets have some fun for once!" Danny responded.

[bookworm-2692]

Life Tracker updated for Episode 7! This one is much quicker than Episode 6 on account of not being on holiday at the time, even though there were two thirds more deaths this time. Previous posts: Session 6, Session 5, Session 4. Also Session 8 (finale) post!

As usual, close ups and commentary below the cut. I’ve also added another graph for the average time of each team, which will also be below the cut.

There was so much carnage! 45 whole deaths in a single session! Not all deaths were awarded time during the session, but Scott’s video advised that it would be added by next session, so I have taken the liberty to add all the time as I see fit, hence why Scott is back to 7.5 hours. I haven’t seen every episode yet (in fact, other than Scott, I’ve only seen those that have perma-died), so I’m not sure if anyone else’s time is a mismatch, but if so I’m happy to explain where I’m getting my time additions and subtractions from!

Now for some close ups.

First, there was enough chaos that I decided to take a close up of Session 6 and 7 together so we can properly appreciate it:

And a close up of Session 7 by itself:

So many people lost major time, so it’s interesting to see Scott’s uptick of time at the end - he ended on only 30 minutes less than he would have been if he hadn’t died at all this session. Pearl didn’t die at all, and got the kill credit for Martyn blowing himself up in a trap, so she actually ended the session 30 minutes better than she started it. Grian also did very well for himself - he killed and died so many times, but somehow ended on the exact time he would have been on if he had experienced a peaceful deathless session.

BigB, Cleo, and Martyn all ended the session 1 hour poorer than they started, and Bdubs and Scar ended 1.5 hours below where they would have been. Nosy Neighbours are thus doing super well, with Mean Gills and Clockers not too far behind, in terms of maintaining position from the start of the session.

TIES had an awful time this session, with Impulse and Tango both losing a net 2 hours, and Etho and Skizz losing a net 2.5 hours - and obviously Skizz entirely died.

Joel possibly had the worst time, losing a net 3.5 hours this session - though it didn’t help that 5 of his 7 deaths were all caused by the one person. Technically Jimmy didn’t do too badly, given he only lost a net 1.5 hours... but given that he was out of the series only an hour into the session, and also the first out entirely... it really didn’t go well for him either

I also find it interesting the sheer number of vertical lines this graph, the ones representing a death immediately followed by a kill or vice versa. I would love to figure out a way to show only one line at a time on the graph, so we can more easily see someone’s journey, but I haven’t had time to look into it yet.

Now onto the graph of the average times per team.

This one is super interesting to me, especially TIES’s line - they had the lowest average life right from the start, but somehow by Session 4, through Session 5, and for most of Session 6, they were the team with the highest average time, and then it quite literally went downhill from there. The only thing saving them from being last now is the fact that the Bad Boys are down to only a single living player, and even then Grian is doing far better than most of TIES.

It’s also interesting to me how Mean Gills had a significant time uptick at the end of both Session 6 and Session 7 (the first due to Martyn and the second due to Scott). Scott’s time was so high that it kept Mean Gills’ average time as yellow for all of Session 6 despite Martyn being red for most of it... and Martyn then got enough kills to keep it there. Mean Gills is also the only team in the entire graph to anywhere gain such consistent significant time.

These averages also coincide with the comments I made above about the time offset difference for each player from the start to end of the session. Mean Gills are doing well, but they’ve been doing well for so long that I’m sure most players are aware that they need to be a target. Nosy Neighbours are also doing well but I feel like they’ve flown under the radar, and are not a significant target right now.

Here is a close up of this graph with Sessions 1-4:

And the close up for Session 5-7:

And the Session 7 only close up:

I kept the dead players in the teams’ averages, since I think it is a better reflection of the teams’ strength as a whole, but I also created a version that excluded dead players. In those screenshots you can really see Bad Boys’ and TIES’ time jumping up at a death, instead of falling as it did here.

Here are the alternate averages graph:

And close ups:

This makes Bad Boys look a lot better, because Grian does have a lot of time... but he is also alone. And there is definitely strength in numbers. Two players at an hour and a half each can fend off an attacker more easily than a single player at three hours can... unless nerves and panic get to them, as we definitely saw this session.

Wow and I almost forgot to include the raw data for this session!

The first hour of the session:

The second hour of the session:

There is just so much death! Look at all the box outlines!! I could barely fit this data on two screens on the zoom I was on, and I did not want to zoom out further.

I also obviously have data for the averages, but it was too far away from the column with the times on it that I wasn’t sure if it would still be useful on its own? Let me know if you want to see it!

This has once again been fascinating to see, and I cannot wait to see how Session 8 will go. Will it be the last session? Will they go until everyone is dead? Will they somehow have enough people with enough time to get to Session 9? Will Mean Gills be the final two and get to play fun relaxing games like Scott was suggesting? 

Only time will tell.

[sweetsilver-if]

To anyone who follows both my games, just wanted to say that the MC in Sweet Silver is having a far worse time than the MC in Burning Academia

[jessieren]

Endeavour may have had themed sandwiches for the days of the week but did they have Fidget Fridays and Moustache Mondays? No...

Plus they missed Wednesdays, which as we all know is one of our FAVOURITE (and inventive*) days of the week

*Given lack of new content. Ref. our letter to Mr Evans yesterday

[gncrezan]

realised about midway through drawing this that i'm not actually sure if hermes takes on the role of being a psychopomp in foa, but i do enjoy the idea that the various chthonic deities contributed to his training/teaching, with the occasional sass from his teachers ofc <3

(and @chrysanthemumgames is out, as of like 15 minutes ago. GO PLAY!!)

[theclearblue]

I'm gonna get into a brawl with my mother one day don't be surprised when I get on the news

[spaghett-onaplate]

it's literally not a good idea in any way shape or form but I want to get a second job in fast food

[fingertipsmp3]

I love the sims 2 because it will completely wreck your shit right when you’re least expecting it

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Hi we're back on the XCOM au bullshit again. Mike's finally getting rescued! Though you'll have to wait some more for him to wake up and to assess how bad the damage is.

The distinction of 'mind' and 'soul' isn't really... it's vibes. Only the people who deal with this regularly even notice they're different things, and a soul-bond links /both/ so... yeah whatever. Cellbit could probably write you an essay on it, which Pac and Mike would immediately disprove by existing.

Pac is running on three cups of coffee, two hours of sleep, and a cereal bar. There's an energy drink shoved in his grenade pouch, and he's saving it for if things really go to shit. He probably deserves the judgemental looks his colleagues are giving him, but he hides in his hood and just pretends to be extremely focused on the lock he is picking.

To be fair, he does need to be; usually a simple action, but it's only been three hours since he returned with Fit, and-

And the less he thinks of that the better.

Forever had been kind enough to radio the helicopter and let them know Fit was out of surgery and expected to make a full recovery. Pac really, really cannot ask for anything more. Not when his own inattention was at fault.

In part at fault - entirely his fault and Mike be damned they'd have delayed the mission another few hours - but in part at fault.

The lock comes free. Pac catches it, not risking a sound as it falls, and glances back at the two behind him.

It's a small squad for a precarious mission; Pac, using their soulbond to track Mike through the building, and both Philza and Bad fully stocked with medkits and potions. Bad's Ghostie has the hack clients up ready for the electric locks, while Philza's Crow is in survey mode. He thinks Bad has the command, but he'll admit to not being entirely sure. Just... He knows Philza hates being in command, for all he's entrusted with it constantly.

Sure enough, it is Bad who gestures for Pac to go on.

He slips through the gate, out of the long burnt-out warehouse Niki dropped them off behind before taking back to the safety of the skies. She'll also be running on coffee and energy drinks soon enough - Cellbit's leading a squad half the world away in Lagos as they work, and while they were dropped off yesterday, she'll have to pick them up as soon as Mike is safe.

Or dead, but Pac doesn't like thinking of that option.

He tugs on their bond, just in case - Mike is still there, but unresponsive. Just as he's been for days. There was a spike of confusion a little while after his desperate grabbing, but otherwise... Otherwise nothing.

Pac is worried, he's so worried, but all that stands between his soulmate and safety is one building full of armed guards, and Pac's ability to stay on task.

It's a big facility, it's so big. Even with Crow scanning for him Philza would never be able to search the place without getting caught. They're relying on Pac and Mike's soul-bond to find him, and Pac can only hope Mike's strong enough for that to work.

Beyond the gate is a wall, and over the wall is a road, and the road leads to the facility and then onwards to Mike.

It's been months - two, nearly three months - since Pac last saw Mike, last heard him with his ears, yelling as he was kidnapped, screaming for Pac to run and Pac - Pac has taken so long to find him. It's taken so long, and the torture and-

Bad places a hand on his shoulder.

And he'll have Mike soon, he just needs to remember to breathe.

He ignores the concerned glances, and instead whispers, "he's not on this side. He's North."

"How far?"

"I... don't know," Pac admits. "He's... too weak for the difference to mean much until we get close."

Bad nods an okay, while Philza whispers a curse under his breath. Whatever caused it, he waves off the immediate worry.

"We go around the west," Philza says. "There's fewer turrets. And Pac?"

Pac nods.

"Remember... If they catch us, they will just fucking kill Mike."

... Pac already knew that, but takes the opportunity to down the energy drink just in case.

He doesn't need telling to keep to cover - none of them do. There's raised fences along the sides of the roads, used to guide self-driving vehicles. They're just tall enough to hide behind, so long as they don't get spotted running across.

The road wraps around the facility - Pac has seen the maps, he knows this. If they just use it to run up... Just use this cover to run up, then hopefully they can track down Mike.

A couple of minutes of ducking in and out of cover, and Mike's presence is stronger. Pac gives another tug.

Still no response, still not even the whisper of a thought.

He prays it's drugs. He prays and prays to the Blessed Virgin that it's drugs and not brain damage keeping him so deeply asleep.

They're about a third of the way down the complex. Pac goes to get up, only for Crow to skim over his head. Instinctively Pac drops back to the floor, waiting.

Seconds later, boots on the road.

He's close enough to hear the plates of the guard's armour clink on one another as they walk, close enough to hear their alien chatter, close enough to smell the heat on their guns.

There's a metre high concrete fence between him and them. He stays low, and bites his lips, and begs himself not to whimper - not for Mike, and not for Fit.

He stays on the floor. He stays low on the floor, arms over his head. Stay still, stay still, blend in to the street and they won't see you - you won't ever be hurt again.

He stays on the floor, stays hidden from sight, long after the pair have passed. He barely breathes, barely dares to, not with Mike on the line, not when he doesn't know when the next patrol will pass.

It takes Philza running over, tugging at his arm, to get him back on his feet.

"Felipe," he whispers, whine in his voice as his hands tremble and his eyes remain wide.

"They're gone," an equally quiet voice replies. "How far?"

Pac closes his eyes, and reaches for Mike.

"Maybe... same, twice the same? It's hard," he shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it, mate, we can always do this the old way."

They can't - they all know it - but it's nice to know someone would try.

Bad, having been covering them from the treeline, slips back into view. He gestures north, they nod, and carry on.

The three of them stick closer now, just a couple of metres between each of them. Pac can finally, finally, almost feel Mike without concentrating again. He lingers like a word on the tip of his tongue, a silent presence pressed nearby.

Pac nearly sobs.

He doesn't, but nearly.

"We're close," he whispers instead.

He receives two nods, and the focus changes - no longer do they head north, instead they start searching for a way in.

There's a few doors they can see, all closed. Opening them... It's a risk - there could be something on the other side, and they'd never know until the entire facility is on high alert.

But then, they don't have a choice.

"Fuck," Philza hisses, a little too loud.

Pac looks to him, then follows his gaze, and whispers a soft "/fuck me/" when he sees what Philza saw.

There's a window - electric laser bars, not one they can jump through. Inside is a row of cells and Pac's heart knows that, yes, this is where Mike is. There's even an open door at one end, left wide for the workers handling some sort of delivery.

There is also a code.

There's a code, escorted by two guards, walking right where they need to be.

"Let me guess," Bad whispers. "That's where Mike is?"

Pac gives an apologetic nod, and Philza even gets away with swearing once again.

The three of them could probably take out a code - in isolation. The problem isn't the code, necessarily, it's the facility full of guards, and other creatures, and the strict time limit they have between being spotted and Mike being killed.

The three of them glance between one another, each hoping another makes a plan.

"We hope for a long patrol route," Philza whispers. "Do you know which cell?"

"I'd need to be closer."

Pac is certain he will be able to tell which cell, now that Mike rests concerningly still in his mind. At a distance Pac could pretend it was merely sleep, but here, so close... Mike is either suppressed in his own mind, or a lot of it is gone.

He thinks of the claws, and the sharp separation, he think-

He thinks he shouldn't be thinking about this.

They wait in the shadows, watching the path of the code. Eventually it turns, it and its guards moving away. The workers are by the delivery truck not the door, arguing with the driver in a way seemingly unlikely to end soon.

Bad risks moving first, setting himself beside the doorway. He gestures the other two of them forwards, even as Ghostie makes its way to the control panel.

As Pac watches the robot connects, and runs its code. Seconds later he hears the doors unlock, and sees the smug grin of Bad as he fails to trip the alarm.

It's still going to happen - either when he opens the cell door or when they call Niki over with the flares.

Pac closes his eyes, and feels for Mike - not just feels, but reaches along their bond and feels where it goes.

He raises two fingers, and hope they understand.

One second, and that's all Pac can stand - Mike is right there, right there, just within touching distance! He leaves Bad and Philza to work out the details, and rushes over to the door.

He throws it open.

An alarm finally sounds.

And there is Mike, Mike, Mike! He lays awkwardly on the floor, as though he was bodily thrown in there and hasn't moved since. If there was any blood it's long dry and cracked away, but there's a thinness in his face that Pac hasn't seen since they were teenagers on the streets - too young to work, too old to be bought a meal, not yet as quick with their fingers as they would one day be.

He's breathing, though - it's slow and shallow, but he's breathing, and Pac hides a sob in the sound of the alarm.

Philza's Crow flies over Pac's shoulder, and swoops down towards Mike. It released one of the splash potions it is loaded with, the hazey mist of healing pressing against Mike's skin.

It won't cure what's wrong - Pac knows that intimately - but it will have stabalised whichever wounds Mike has.

Pac doesn't wait for the Crow to return; he slips his arms around Mike, pulling him against him. For a moment he merely clings to him, soaking himself in Mike and Mike in himself, before - before he remembers the code outside.

He adjusts his grip on Mike, and slips out of the cell.

Niki has already been called - is already here, even, she must have been hovering very close by. Bad and Philza nod to him, guns ready to cover as he gets Mike to safety and away.

Pac doesn't thank them, he can't think to; he just makes sure Mike is secure, and begins scrambling up the ladder.

Even inside he doesn't wait; without knowing his injuries Pac dares not put Mike in one of the seats, instead pulling out the stretcher and affixing it to the floor. By the time he's done that Bad and Philza are back inside, the door shutting and Niki pulling the helicopter back to the skies - getting the distance before the turrets can realign and shoot them from the sky.

Neither Bad nor Philza touch Mike - Pac thinks he might have stabbed them if they dared - but they do help with the straps. Keeping him still, keeping him safe. The two of them assess for obvious injuries - bad bruising on both the back and front of his head, torn out finger nails, electrical burns, cuts and bruises and broken bones of torture.

Pac feels... Pac feels sick.

He doesn't strap into a seat, not like he's supposed to. Instead he perches at Mike's side - keeps a grab rail in range just in case, and picks up an abused hand.

It's so cold.

He clings to Mike, with mind body and soul. Mike is with him, Mike is safe - he reaches out with the bond and finds where Mike is, and eases himself around him. He can't hug Mike, not with his injuries, not like he wants to - but in soul he can cradle him all the same.

Mike's mind is still worryingly quiet - Pac's scared, no Pac's terrified, because he doesn't know what that means for his soulmate to be so blank - but there is a response. Mike's soul shifts, presses back against Pac's. He's listless, confused, pained, and deeply wounded, but he presses back, leans into the metaphysical hug.

Pac clings tighter to him, allows his body to sob in relief.

He traces the scars Curucho left on Mike - some of them still open, gaping wounds. Closer, now, he can do more; the metaphysics he doesn't quite understand, but they know what works. He doesn't touch the shreds scattered around, leaves them for now, but where wounds in Mike's mind and soul keep bleeding...

Pac sings in his soul, imagines butterfly stitches, makes them of his own essence and presses them to the wounds. They are not healed, not really, but Pac's essence is shaped in the form of healing and blended into Mike's,

Just like when they were children with scraped knees and blistered hands, he thinks of kissing each one.

By the end of it he's exhausted, but Mike doesn't seem in as much pain any more. He's still so deep Pac can only hold him - there are no dreams for Pac to wander into, and no way to pull him from the sleep - but hold him he can. Holds his hand in body while he sobs, wraps around him in mind and soul and lets their essences merge together.

Just at the edges - Mike isn't aware enough to truly merge - but the gentle blur is back, the space between them where it's neither Pac nor Mike, but something greater than their parts.

He drinks the comfort of Mike, Mike, Mike, and hopes that - to whatever amount he is able - Mike can find comfort in Pac, Pac, Pac.

[walkingstackofbooks]

Tfw you're writing a fic and you can't get Julian out of Ops, so you introduce Garak to drag him out and now you can't get rid of Garak XD

Garak, this fic isn't about you.

(I'm glad I brought him in, though, he's incredibly fun to write and I bashed out their 1000 in like an hour, result!)

[todayisafridaynight]

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

oh god the last 24 hours have been a LOT

[toastsnaffler]

love being at the climbing gym like yeah im not that flexible and then constantly doing moves matching my hands n feet on the same holds even when completely unnecessary

[icantalk710]

..

[alullinchaos]

posting this pre-emptively, i am going to be busy as fuck tomorrow for essentially the entirety of my day and by the time i get home i fully expect that i will be too exhausted to do much but try and shovel nutrition into my mouth so if i don't post or reblog much tmrw that is why. i'm not dead i just got fucked over by life