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"you only wear that for attention"

correct! thanks for noticing! do you like my tits or ass more?

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Leila Chatti, from "Postcard from Gone"

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Something interesting I noticed from Diabolical Box:

When Layton and Luke first meet Sammy on the Molentary Express, he explicitly refers to himself as Sammy in the third person.

Despite this, he is rarely called by this name throughout the game. He is often referred to as 'Sam,' 'Samuel', or just 'The Conductor.'

However, there is a character who is one of the few people to call him by his preferred name. And it's pretty surprising.

Professor Hershel Layton.

This is surprising to me, as Layton often has a tendency to be overly formal when it comes to names. For example, when he first met Emmy, he referred to her as Miss Altava.

Then I remembered.

Wasn't there an entire scene in Azran Legacy when Layton rejected his birth name and encouraged his father to embrace his true identity?

So yeah. Professor Layton 100% respects a person's decision to change their name and supports them completely without question.

Sammy: Sup man. I'm Sammy Thunder. Sam's fine too. My Unko still calls me Samuel but just ignore him lol.

Layton: *grabbing his shoulders* Yes. You are Sanmy Thunder and always will be. You need no other name.

Sammy: :D

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Something I've noticed in the Nevermoor series is that the couple times Jupiter finds Morrigan after she mysteriously went missing (like when Squall kidnapped her to Crow Manor in book one and when she woke up in the hospital at the end of Hollowpox), he gives her this big hug that shows he's just so relieved to find her and that she's okay. However, it seems like in his overwhelming relief, he forgets his own strength, because from Morrigan's perspective, his hugs are described as like bone crushing or so tight she almost can't breathe. (Or maybe it's just that Mog is small lol).

But in any case, I feel like - and I mean this in the most wholesome way possible - I would gladly let Jupiter crush every bone in my body if it meant getting a hug from him.

I need some serious Jupidad in my life, and I'd definitely sacrifice the ability to breathe for a few minutes for that.

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Wordy by aavfvl

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and when i am left all alone,

with a voice that is

raw from repenting

and enough of you inside of my lungs to question how i was ever

able to breathe without you

in the first place;

when i am on my knees,

begging to a god that

i don't even believe in anymore

to let me see your face,

however bitter or blue,

just one last time;

to let me exist in the same space

in the same universe as you

just a little while longer,

just long enough to

make it all make sense—

do we call that religion

or a haunting?

-mars

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Mogtober 2023 Day #18

Prompt: Jupiter North

(Quick summary: To all appearances, Jupiter has a lot of confidence, but he tends to feel differently when he looks at himself with his Witness ability, until one day Frank inspires a deep lesson.)

Jupiter North hated the mirror.

Well, that wasn't *exactly* accurate.

It was more of a love-hate relationship, but on many days, the hate was very predominant.

Such was the case on one particular day when he found himself lost in thought, wandering down a hall in the Deucalion toward his office. Halfway there, he happened to catch sight of himself in a hallway mirror.

What he saw made him stop.

His general appearance was about enough to make anybody stop on any given day, what with his bright ginger hair, flashy wardrobe choices, and all around handsome features. But for himself as a Witness, there was always so much more.

Jupiter gazed at his reflection with a perceptive eye that saw far more than the average person ever could. With regards to himself, it was a criticizing eye, most of the time. He had learned to tune it out a lot, just like how he filtered what he saw anywhere else in the world in order to maintain not only respect for other people's boundaries, but also his own sanity. But sometimes he just couldn't ignore it all.

Today was one of those days.

Standing before the mirror, he cringed as he took note of the sizeable gray cloud that was hovering around him. Stress, discouragement, and worries - that's what that represented. Jupiter was generally a pretty positive person, but lately he'd been carrying a lot of concerns for Morrigan, and how to figure out what was going on with the disappearance of the Hollowpox, and how to keep Squall from getting into his little girl's head. Well, not *his* little girl, technically, but close enough. Enough that the concern Jupiter carried for her expressed itself through the Gossamer in a bigger, denser gray cloud than Jupiter typically saw with average levels of stress.

In addition to the gray cloud, there was also that flickering light around his head, blinking in and out, suggesting an unsolved mystery, questions with answers just out of reach. Jupiter had an inquisitive mind and always seemed to be on the trail of some mystery or another. So this wasn't an unfamiliar sight, but it was a constant reminder of multiple pressing concerns. Sometimes he couldn't tell if he was chasing the questions or if they were chasing him.

Beneath the obvious, glaring layers of stress and discouragement, Jupiter could see some of his own older battles. Over his heart was one particular scar, old, but still bleeding a bit. That was from the death of his sister and the way he still carried some guilt for feeling like he should have been able to prevent it somehow. Very close to it was another old wound, mostly healed by now, that represented how he hurt for Jack without parents in the world to guide and support him. It was connected to a vague shape like weights on his chest. That was the responsibility he felt for giving Jack a better world now.

Jupiter sighed deeply as his eyes followed the innumerable strings of multiple colors and textures that tied his person and his heart to one thing or another, mostly life events and happenings, a few to people. In them he could read just about every moment of his history. All the joys and happiness, yes, but also all the pain, the losses, the sad times. Even more than that, he could see all his personal flaws and shortcomings and guilt for every instance he felt he had not been or done enough. These dark, dreary smudges tended to overpower the marks of good things, laughing at him, mocking him.

"You're not enough, you're not enough, you're not enough," they chanted. They repeated over and over until they filled his head with their echoes, like the complex layers of some polyphonic music. He could almost feel the ambiguous shadows that leered over his shoulders.

Along with this was a dread as black as the blackest night, surrounding his heart like the cold waves of a threatening ocean. Sometimes their tide was low, sometimes it was high, but it always existed in some measure. Jupiter knew he was seeing the fear of failing Mog. It was the dread of making one wrong move and letting her be torn away by Squall or overcome by the voices of her past that said she was cursed - or worst of all, of himself somehow accidentally letting her down and losing her trust. Jupiter shuddered at the slightest notion of it.

Here and there and everywhere, he was marked with scars and shadows and shatters of various shapes and size. How could he ignore them? Why did he ever look in the mirror anyway, when these constant reminders of who he was always glared at him from his reflection?

"Admiring yourself, Jove?" a voice came from behind him.

"Hm?"

Jupiter was suddenly pulled out of his deep thoughts. He hadn't noticed Frank approaching him.

"Oh, no, never," Jupiter answered, mustering up the smirk and playful, half sarcastic tone that almost always threw others off the trail of his true thoughts in these cases. "Why would I do that?"

"Oh, only because of the half million wonderful things that make you Captain Jupiter North," Frank shrugged. "Ask anyone. What's not to admire?"

The vampire dwarf gave Jupiter's arm a friendly bump and meandered on his blissfully ignorant way, but his words turned Jupiter back to the mirror again.

"What's not to admire?" he'd said. "Half a million wonderful things."

Jupiter squinted at himself. He was so used to seeing his flaws and his burdens, so used to both examining them and yet also ignoring them, that he rarely took much note of his positive traits. But now that he thought about it, what was there?

Determination - there was that - like the constant beating of a heart that just wouldn't give up. Values that had an appearance similar to beautiful plants with roots that buried themselves in the deepest part of his core. Intelligence and an inquisitive nature that looked sort of like the flashing lights of unanswered questions, but were more of a constant glow around his head, almost halo-like. Similarly, the radiance of a positive and caring nature shone in the center of his chest near the sternum, much like the constant candle of kindness Dame Chanda carried within herself. And a consistent life purpose, made greater than ever by the new addition of his investment in Morrigan.

Right then, something shifted, not so much in Jupiter's actual sight as his perspective, and suddenly he saw a person alive and aglow with a beauty and value that went much deeper than gorgeous hair or fine clothes.

Why did he not remember ever seeing himself like this? It had all been there. He'd even seen it before - only he hadn't *seen* it. Even as a person who was generally self aware and had a measure of value for his own positive traits, he'd somehow always felt that it was just strange to look at his own good qualities with that level of scrutiny. Besides, the weight of all his cares and concerns had so long overclouded them that he must've unconsciously trained himself only to see his person as an amalgamation of all his scars and battles and shortcomings.

He was all of that, yes, but he was so many good things, too. So many smiles and happy moments like warm little nooks in his heart to sustain him through the winters of his lapses into harsh self judgement. Brightly colored strings tying him to wonderful experiences, beautiful places, and the best of people.

And running through all of it was a massive tide of love, surging and pulsing and coursing through positively everything. There was love for Jack, love for his Wunsoc unit, love for even the family and friends who were long gone like his sister. There was love for Fen and Frank and Dame Chanda and the whole Deucalion family. There was love, newer and perhaps greater than any of the others, for Mog, sparkling with the bright hue of newfound purpose.

The river of love was so great it was impossible to tell where it began or ended, and it flowed out into so many different branches in multiple directions. But it didn't just give; the love of other people was constantly splashing into the tide that sourced from his own heart, too.

Jupiter could hardly tear his eyes away from the mirror now. This change of perspective was so overwhelming. It wasn't until he heard footsteps behind him that he looked away from the sight.

Turning to see who was approaching, Jupiter was met with the familiar black eye-patched face of his nephew.

Jack started to open his mouth as if to start a conversation, but seemed to catch something, and closed it immediately. Jupiter didn't need his Witness ability to watch Jack take in the sight of his uncle in such deep thoughts in front of the mirror and make the connection of what was going on. No words were spoken, but they made brief eye contact and something unspoken passed between them. Jack's eyes reflected a sense of recognition, and he gave a simple, understanding nod before continuing on his way again. But that confirmed to Jupiter what he'd really always known. Jack knew. He got it. He did this, too.

"Jack," Jupiter called the boy back. "There's something important I need to tell you."

He put his hands on Jack's shoulders and turned him to face the mirror.

"I want you to remember, whenever you look at yourself in the mirror - with or without your eye patch, but especially without - to always try to see yourself as a whole. It will save you a lot of trouble."

Jack nodded, silent for a moment, until Jupiter released his shoulders, then said, "Thanks. I'll try to remember that."

"Well," Jupiter said at last, reaching out to make a quick adjustment to Jacks collar. "I've got things to do now. But remember, Jack: the mirror is not your enemy."

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i like to say that

i hide you in my poetry

but that isn't true.

it's never been subtle;

everything i do is a plea

for you to come back to me.

every poem i've ever written

has been titled with your name.

-mars

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If you listen to deftones come here and give me a kiss

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everything eats and is eaten, time is fed

INGYDAR – ADRIANNE LENKER

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“Once more, I was faced with someone I understood who could neither read me, nor see me, nor perceive me.”

— Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin: Volume Six: 1955-1966.

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love writing. writing is awesome. it’s a shame that it involves writing though

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[Text ID: But I won't rest till you are with me. I never will.]

— Emily Brontë, from “Wuthering Heights.”

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“When someone is going through a storm, your silent presence is more powerful than a million, empty words.”

— Thema Davis

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i always convince myself i dont sound that weird and then i go out in the world and get involved in anything longer than transactional small talk and its like ohhh thats right ive only been hanging out with gay people who speak in riddles

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we share looks like we're sharing secrets.

-marley knight