vyriarose

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Buffy Summers and Cordelia Chase

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Okay so obviously one of the main questions that Severance is asking is "who is a person?" Like, what is a life, what constitutes living? The outies don't consider that when they choose severance, they're creating an entirely new person, someone with a consciousness that exists seperate from their own. Even if they know that's what's happening in some way, they don't really GET that.

Early in season 1, Helena Eagan seems like such a cold monster for telling Helly "You are not a person. I am a person."

And she clearly is cold, no doubt. But she's also being honest about the way most outies genuinely seem to regard their innies. She's just saying it in a way they won't.

Mark says he understands his innie is a person, but the way he talks to him betrays that. Him and Devon are nice and gentle, but at the end of the day neither of them consider what it will mean to take down Lumon or for Mark to quit. Will it be ending innie Marks life? Sure. But he's not *really* a person, he doesnt *really* have a life, not like they have lives. So it's not the same.

Theyre like, genuinely shocked he takes this so poorly.

When Dylan G proposes to Gretchen, he says "i can give you a life." Which struck me as such a specific way to put that, because... he cant, really? Not "a life" the way she would understand it, with all the things people use to "build a life together." Like, a family, a home, time spent together not in one weird waiting room.

What kind of life can you offer when you only exist on one floor of one building? When you can only see each other in one room, possibly for an hour at a time every few days or weeks?

For Gretchen, that wouldn't be a life. But to Dylan G, it's all he knows. So it is a life, a full one. He has nothing else to compare it to.

For Mark and Devon and Helena, it seems so cruel to look at the lives of the innies and see them as less. As not real. To see the innies as not real people.

But i don't think the show is saying that they're wrong. I don't think it's saying that theyre right, either. I think it's just posing questions, difficult ones. It's easy to say "of course the innies are people, with lives and consciousness of their own, and its cruel to discount that."

But even the innies do the same thing. They do it to Ms. Casey, and to every single one of Gemma's other consciousnesses.

25 seperate consciousnesses, who only exist for hours at a time, in one room. Are those lives, are those people?

As Gemma and Mark run for the elevator, Dr. Mauer yells for them to stop. He yells "you're killing them all." At first i didn't get who he meant. I thought maybe he meant all the innies on the severed floor, like Innie Mark said. If they took Lumon down, they all die.

But he meant Gemma. All the Gemma's that exist in those rooms, the ones Innie Mark created.

If innies are people, seperate people with individual consciousness, then both Innie and Outie Mark just committed mass murder.

And he did it to Ms Casey, too. Has been trying to do exactly that all season. To find his outies wife and get her out of there. It was never a question of asking Ms Casey what she wanted or letting her have a life of her own on the severed floor, the way innie Mark and Helly choose. It was always about getting Gemma out, saving her.

The innies complain that their outies don't treat them like people, that they don't give them choices, but when faced with the same question, neither Helly nor Mark hesitate to put Gemma over Ms Casey.

They don't see her as a person the way they see themselves as people. And they REALLY don't see her other 24 consciousnesses as people. But why not? How long do you have to be alive to be considered a person? How many places do you need to be allowed to exist in before you get a choice?

To the outies, it's hard for them to consider that the innies are people in the same way they are. Their lives are too small, too confined.

And its the same for the innies. Gemma was split into 25 people, 24 of which likely only exist in one room, for maybe a few hours at a time. It's an existence even smaller than their half-lives, and they don't give it consideration the same way their outies don't consider them.

Is a life that small really a life? Would each of Gemma's consciousness' fight for their strange existence if they had a choice? If they knew what walking out those doors meant, would they be afraid to do it?

Would Ms Casey have chosen to leave, if Innie Mark had told her what was happening? If he had stopped to consider what he was doing in that moment, do you think he would have done anything different?

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and most of all THANK YOU to her

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"You did it. You killed me"

Been thinking about these two, shadow self my beloved

edit: And the soundtrack to accompany it :D

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IM BACKKK WITH SOME DOODLES OF AN OLD HYPERFIXATION AWAKENED

I forgot tumblr existed lowkey

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the ella purnell spectrum

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Combine!!

Combined my two favorite scientist characters 💕💜

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I finished it

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Queen and Knight 🥀

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📄

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my mood today and always

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Were they ever really that different?

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I think about Catra so frequently I swear this girl actually haunts my mind

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God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

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Je t’aime, je te hais

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this was supposed to be just a warmup...... so anyway pit fighter adora as a treat!!

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Jinx Fanart! Featuring lots of crows :]