#I used to call him Prometheus but in universe they just call him Him

[heepthecheep]

This seems like so much fun,

#in order these are: #Lucian #Magdalene #Tenry #Hyzenthlay #Themis #Jack #Ekaterina #Petir #I used to call him Prometheus but in universe they just call him Him #The saints and I'm not tagging them all #The Gravedigger #oc #polaris #oc poll #poll

[quasitsqueeries]

The Emperor wasn't 12 feet tall

I see this meme a lot in my Instagram feed and it really grinds my gears:

Not because it seems to be trying to shame a fictional antagonist for being "wrong" (although that really doesn't help), but because whoever made it seems to have missed that depictions of the Emperor as superhuman are meant to be Imperial Propaganda.

Now, I realise I'm going to be fighting an uphill battle here because there seem to be people working for Games Workshop and producing their media who also missed that memo, and for a while now the studio has started producing actual depictions of the Emperor, and some of those depections show him as 12 feet tall and immortal. This might be controversial but I think what this shows is that Games Workshop don't understand Games Workshop's source material.

Here's a picture of the Emperor from the original Rogue Trader rulebook.

Even this is obviously meant to be a propaganda image, but here he looks like just a regular guy in armour, he's about the same size as the people around him. Not a superhuman, just a guy with an excess of hubris.

There's this literary construct called the unreliable narrator. When I studied literature we were given this short story to read called Bartleby the Scrivener. It's told from the point of view of an employer about a clerk who was apparently really difficult to manage. The subtext is that the narrator is trying to manipulate the reader to make themself look good.

For a long time, that's what Warhammer 40,000 did, the Imperium was made out to be an unreliable narrator. Stories about the Imperium's "glorious past" were told through the haze of ten thousand years of unending war, by an ecclesiastical class with a vested interest in keeping Imperial citizens committed to feeding the war machine. To the Imperium, the Great Crusade and the Horus Heresy serve the function of myths, more than history. I've gone on before about how important heroic figures like Siegfried and Perseus and Prometheus were to the Nazis. The Imperium, being a fictional state that draws on the aesthetics and ideology of Fascism, uses the figures of the Emperor and Primarchs the same way.

Basically what I'm saying is that when Imperial sources state that these people were twelve feet tall and immortal and could, um, turn a giant ork into a lightbulb on a whim, it's not because they had these powers, but because they've been ascribed these powers by their priesthood, who have total control over the flow of information in this setting.

And I get that this is hard, because most people don't get taught this stuff, and often people are probably looking for escapism from their fiction and why would the book I'm reading lie to me? But I think it really makes the setting more interesting if you look at it this way.

Also, I realise that since 2006 there have been books around that describe the Emperor, and they do show him as superhuman, and I think those depictions are based on the writers misunderstanding the material they're working from. I guess Tolkien wrote the existence of The Hobbit into Middle Earth as the Red Book of Westmarch so I can tell myself that the Horus Heresy novels are meant to be in-universe Imperial propaganda.

ADDENDUM: I need to add this because I've been reading about Perpetuals, which is apparently what the Emperor is since the Horus Heresy series was published. Apparently these individuals are human mutants that are both immortal and invincible. I remember Mechanicum heavily implying that the Emperor and St. George are the same person. Here's the problem with that. There are two themes that I think are really important in Warhammer 40,000. One is the Emperor's hubris, the idea was that he was playing god, genetically engineering monstrosities in the form of the primarchs. In the Greek tragic mould, it's this hubris that leads to his downfall. This kind of loses its sting if he's just trying to recreate what what he already is.

The other theme is the Imperium's superstition. This one is really the core of 40K. The Imperium has taken the corpse of a man who tried to rule the galaxy, told themselves he's not dead, plugged the corpse into a machine that "regenerates" him, and founded an intolerant, violent and expansionist religion around this husk. This theme changes significantly if the Emperor actually was as powerful as the Ecclesiarchy makes him out to be, and actually isn't dead, and has somehow been regenerating for the last 10,000 years. There's a question here about what would make an entity worthy of worship, or being called a god, and I probably shouldn't get into it but this is my blog so I'm going to. It seems like there's an assumption among some writers that if something can be rationally explained then it's not a god, because gods ipso facto don't exist. They've incorporated nonexistence into their definition of gods. This is where you get the idea that the Chaos gods aren't gods, because the setting explains their existince "rationally" with its internal logic (nevermind that there's nothing rational about the warp). If there were gods in a rational sense, then our model of the universe would have to change to accomodate them. I think the upshot of this is basically that if what the Horus Heresy novels claim about the Emperor is true, then the Ecclesiarchy are right and he is a god within the logic of the setting. That doesn't justify the genocide and expansionism, but maybe it does justify the worship, and that's something that I think takes away from the setting.

#warhammer 40000 #horus heresy #emperor of mankind #games workshop #wargaming

[randomnumbers751650]

I finally have time to talk about Lone Trail. I will be focusing on its depiction of science, technology and its progress. Will get a bit political, but funnily enough less than I imagined.

The thing that called my attention most in Lone Trail were the discussions on the nature of scientific progress. This is a theme that’s dear to me and the stuff I research about. It’s easy to think of scientific progress like an inevitable march forward, like an escalator. After all, we are much richer than we were before, right? Go to OurWorldInData dot org to play around with economic statistics in time – make sure to check the World GDP chart, from year 0 to 2000 and see it taking off like a rocket from year 1700.

What kind of Uncle Ted fan or neoluddite would go against that? Haha…hah…

Truth is that, although its effects are there, it’s not a clear if this is the little, neat process techbros want us to believe. It’s new and produces more, therefore it’s good, right? I could be writing this as a new wave of AI-generated NFTs pollute my algorithm.

That’s what makes the storytelling in Arknights so effective: it mashes together fantasy and sci-fi to really tell stories on the role of beliefs, technology, science and religion. The Rhine Lab saga is definitely an exploration of technology, with focus on the equivalent of the United States. During the period before the First World War, 1870-1913 (which is the one that Arknights draws most from), the world underwent through the so-called Second Industrial Revolution and I’ve read economic historians considering it the most innovative period in human history. I mean, obviously, there is an absolute number of inventions in our current age, but in relative terms 1870-1913 experienced a much larger number relative to the previous one.

The escalator narrative constructs scientific achievements as work of daring people (mostly men, but there were women like Marie Cuire), that combined science and technology to help mankind, like Prometheus giving mankind fire from the gods (in fact, one of these books is even named “Prometheus Unbound”); more than often they have to fight against the establishment. Remember Ignaz von Semmelweis? He just wanted doctors to wash their hands. Even I learned this standard narrative in the university. But that’s not the entire story.

The positivistic paradigm – of a science free of value judgements, made with the power of math – has actually helped build this escalator narrative. In reality, some scientists and scholars are horrible people. Later, I learned that Semmelweis, as much as he campaigned for the right thing, was a very arrogant person, who abused everyone around him, to the point few people went to his funeral.

Narratives focusing on one single hero are easy to sell and the ones building them are always on the lookout. Remember how ten years ago, a lot of people tried to push the narrative Elon Musk was going to create a new industrial revolution? Nowadays he’s just an arrogant loser who keeps dragging on his midlife crisis. The 1880s also had similar people like that, such as Thomas Edison.

Kristen Wright is definitely better than them both, because she is actually an engineering genius. But she’s also just like them, in the sense of unethical experiments, collusion with the military-industrial complex and being an overall superficially charismatic, but rotten to the core person. And she’s surrounded by a lot of people like Parvis and Ferdinand.

Breaking this line of reason, I have to say how much I hate Nietzsche’s ubermensch and master-slave morality, I hate Great Men theory, I hate Ayn Rand; these people are sheep who think themselves wolves. And before you say that Nietzsche didn’t consider himself an ubermensch, well, neither did Parvis and his reasoning was the same. For every person fancying themselves ubermensch, there’s a lot of those whom he’d call untermensch to clean up their messes. You have no idea of how times I stumbled upon people (especially libertarians) that advocate lower barriers to regulations that were written in blood, so that progress can happen quicker. Creative destruction works, as long as some people get “creative” and others clean the “destruction”. Deaths and injuries? Acceptable, just give them a pension (but fight tooth and nail in the court to not do it beyond the barest of the bare minimum, because it’ll lower the shareholder profit in 0.01%). Increase in inequality? Nobody will care in a few years, it’ll make everything cheaper anyway (look up Baumol’s cost disease to see how wrong that statement is, without being incorrect). I’m not exaggerating, sometimes the people saying that don’t even bother lacing it in politically correct language.

Because Lone Trail showed it “worked” – Kristen Wright broke off the ceiling over Terra and that will have consequences (especially with Endfield coming closer). The data from her experiments will advance science, the sight of a broken ceiling will inspire artists and prompt politicians to act. Was it worth it? Well, it will depend on who you ask (like, Ifrit or Rosmontis would have strong feelings), but it’s just there now. Serious history isn’t kind on this question as well – many technologies have a lot of transgressions, both legal and ethical, in their supply chain (both the American and Soviet space program come to my mind – guess who helped them); the difference between an entrepreneur and a criminal are contextual, because both are finding new opportunities of profit and both interlock frequently.

In the end, anyone can put an equation that has its uses, not mattering if it’s a good person or not. But that is no excuse to find good ethical practices. Silence saw everything with her own eyes and I’m really glad she’s leading the initiative for a more ethical science in Columbia – especially because people who are willing to break moral rules tend also to be willing to break research rules (this is why the “research” made in concentration camps is actually useless, it didn’t respect experimental rules). So I’m really glad for the Arknights writers for understanding these nuances and communicating them to the audience through one of the best stories of the game.

#arknights #lone trail

[denimbex1986]

'If you’ve ever read an interview with the Irish actor Cillian Murphy, you might think him shy, irritable, or even neurotic. Journalists love to write about how closed-off he is, that if you ask him anything too personal he’ll shut down and give one-line answers. This makes their job very hard, they say. But what those interviews don’t tell you, is that if you let Murphy talk about a subject that he actually wants to talk about – such as his epic new film about the father of the atomic bomb J. Robert Oppenheimer – he’ll go on for ages. And he’ll be very open and interesting while he’s doing it. He might even make a joke.

He does this when NME meets him at a posh hotel in Soho. We’ve just walked into the room. Murphy is sat down, wearing a black v-neck jumper over a white t-shirt, black trousers and a pair of very pointy Chelsea boots. He seems relaxed, and greets us with a cheery “hello!”. Then he recognises the thick paperback tucked under our arm as a copy of American Prometheus, the Pulitzer Prize-winning biography from which Oppenheimer is adapted. We’d intended to read a quote from the book later but Murphy cuts in on our explanation. “No, you brought it in here to be pretentious,” he grins. “Would you like me to sign it for you?”

There are people who would sell their grandmas for a mere glimpse of Murphy, let alone an autograph. He’s been dogged by screaming fans since the early days of his career – when he broke out as often-shirtless apocalypse survivor Jim in Danny Boyle’s 2002 horror hit 28 Days Later. Brummie gangster series Peaky Blinders made him a global star, but his most famous film roles are notable because they’ve often come from collaborations with the same director. Christopher Nolan’s sci-fi blockbuster Inception, war thriller Dunkirk and his Batman trilogy all featured Murphy as the supporting curio – a side character that pops up every so often to steal your attention from the main protagonist. But in Oppenheimer, the duo’s latest creative partnership, he finally is the main character.

And he’s a good one too. Oppenheimer was an American scientist who made vital discoveries in quantum physics during the 1920s and ‘30s, going on to oversee the creation of the atomic bomb for the US Government – two of which were dropped on Japanese cities Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, killing an estimated 220,000 people. Oppenheimer spent the rest of his life campaigning for disarmament, appalled at the weapon (his preferred term was “gadget”) he had helped to give the world. He also drank heavily and had a reputation as a womaniser, despite being quiet and sometimes socially awkward. Murphy calls him “contradictory” and “complex”, which is like saying Suella Braverman doesn’t like immigrants. “I do think that he believed it would be the weapon to end all wars,” Murphy continues, attempting to explain how a left-leaning humanitarian could spend two years perfecting the ultimate killing machine. “He thought that [having the bomb] would motivate countries to form a sort of nuclear world governance.” Murphy pauses. “He was naive.”

Was that naivety a choice though? Oppenheimer had an explosive ego, once attempting to poison a university professor who chastised him when he was a student. Could his desire to achieve such as historic breakthrough have led him to ignore his own better judgement?

“That’s an interesting take,” says Murphy. He runs his hands through his hair, which is styled into wavy curtains. He does this a lot when thinking a question over. “Chris used this amazing phrase. We were talking about Oppenheimer’s arc and he said, ‘You know, he’s dancing between the raindrops morally.’ That unlocked something in my mind when I was preparing.”

To play the role of Oppenheimer, Murphy went very deep. He read the Bhagavad Gita – a 700-page Hindu religious text that the physicist famously quoted from (“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”) Then he started “skipping meals” in an effort to slim down to Oppenheimer’s rail-thin frame. During the actual shoot, Murphy smoked so many fake cigarettes that he worried it harmed his health. “They can’t be good for you,” he told The Guardian. Oppenheimer himself died of throat cancer in 1967.

On top of the physical strain, Murphy delved into some pretty dark emotional places. He had six months to research before filming began in February 2022, and during the 67-day production he often worked 18-hour days. War, genocide and the nuclear holocaust are unpleasant to think about at the best of times, never mind your every waking moment. It must have been brutal.

“You always have to take a holiday after a job,” he concedes, as though being a Hollywood actor is no different from plumbing toilets. “It’s not because… as some journalists like to think, you’re a method actor or whatever. It’s because you give so much time to the job and then suddenly you stop. You have all this displaced energy, you know, so you kind of don’t know what to do with yourself… But I’m a very easygoing sort of person. It doesn’t weigh me down.”

We suspect Murphy isn’t being entirely truthful here. Such is the intensity of his performance – all simmering discontent and wide-eyed panic attacks – that it’s difficult to believe he just shook the weight of global armageddon off each night before climbing into bed. Emily Blunt, who plays Oppenheimer’s wife Kitty in the film, has said Murphy regularly skipped cast dinners because of the “monumental” pressure he felt. “Of course he didn’t want to [eat] with us,” she told People magazine. Matt Damon, brilliant as mustachioed military boss General Groves, agreed: “His brain was just too full.” When we push Murphy on the subject, he reveals a little more. “I didn’t go out much. I didn’t socialise much, mainly because of the amount of work I had to do… I became so immersed in the role.”

To make the experience yet more profound, cameras rolled only “a couple of days” before Russia invaded Ukraine. The West united to impose stringent economic sanctions on Vladimir Putin and his people. The value of the Ruble plummeted, Russian billionaires were booted out of London and Moscow became a cultural ghost town with the likes of Green Day and Iron Maiden cancelling gigs. Putin’s response? To start lining up tactical nukes along his borders. Armageddon seemed closer than at any moment since the Cold War. Murphy (and his castmates) felt the heat. “It was everywhere, and we were fully aware of that,” he says. “The threat [of nuclear war] has escalated and receded over the years since 1945… and now it’s back. It’s always there, this Sword Of Damocles that is hanging over us.”

Murphy, 47, knows what it’s like to exist against the backdrop of conflict. He grew up during the Troubles in late 1970s and ‘80s Cork, Ireland, where reports of sectarian violence in the north often dominated the news. His mum was a French teacher and his dad worked for the civil service. As a teenager, he was obsessed with music. He read NME and loved Frank Zappa and The Beatles. To illustrate his fandom, he tells us about a trip he took to Liverpool, later in life, to see the legendary Cavern Club, where the mop tops first cut their teeth on stage. “I walked down to [the street where the Cavern Club is supposed to be],” he says, “and it wasn’t there. It was somewhere over there!” He gesticulates with his hands. “It’s not the real Cavern. It’s just a mock-up!”

Inspired by John, Paul, George and Ringo, Murphy and his brother formed a band: The Sons of Mr Green Genes, named after a Zappa tune from the avant garde groover’s 1969 album ‘Hot Rats’. The songs were similarly experimental, filled with “wacky lyrics and endless guitar solos”. Eventually, an indie label based in London, Acid Jazz, put a five-album deal on the table. He and his brother turned it down, citing reasons of artistic independence, but for a while rock and roll appeared more inviting than the movies.

Murphy is often disparaging about his songs to journalists, but they must have been doing something right. He’s also self-deprecating when we bring up the underrated 2002 short film Watchmen, which he co-wrote with BAFTA-winner Paloma Baeza – his only attempt at a screenplay. “I just never thought that I was good enough really,” he says. “It’s why I haven’t, you know, pursued the music either… I like to do one thing quite well.” He adds that it’s unlikely this will change in the future.

Murphy will be far too busy to write songs or screenplays for a while anyway. The first reviews for Oppenheimer are out, and some critics have him earmarked for an Oscar. He’ll charm his way through awards season no doubt, just as he does at the Paris premiere the night before our interview. Done up in a black suit with mustard shirt and matching oversized tie, he looks a bit like the handsome English teacher your best mate had a crush on. Walking the red carpet, he is happy to answer questions, speaking at length about Nolan’s genius and the “amazing” reaction to Oppenheimer so far. You can tell he’s enjoying himself.

Murphy’s not on duty tonight though, with London’s premiere scheduled for the day after our chat. Then he’ll be waiting to get on with his next gig, the dark indie drama Small Things Like These, adapted from Claire Keegan’s bestselling 2021 title, in which he’ll take the lead role. Following his breakthrough blockbuster with a low-key Irish drama is typically understated of Murphy, so not unexpected. More box office projects loom on the horizon – a standalone Peaky Blinders movie and the long-awaited horror threequel 28 Months Later – but he says he has “no new information” on either.

It’s difficult to say what Oppenheimer means for Murphy. He is a household name in the UK and Ireland, but less so in the States, where some still see him as a ‘TV actor’. In a recent interview to promote the film, Robert Downey Jr. talked of Murphy’s life “changing” after Oppenheimer, as if he’s a fresh actor on the scene. In a sense, Downey Jr. is right. This is Murphy’s first lead role in a sure-fire smash. And the parts he gets offered now may be a bit starrier. But don’t expect to see him in spandex on a Marvel soundstage anytime soon.

“I like unknowable, ambiguous, kind of enigmatic [characters],” he says. “To me that’s human life: the knotty, weird grey areas… A good man’s life is wholly uninteresting.”'

#Cillian Murphy #Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Robert Downey Jr #Peaky Blinders #Small Things Like These #Claire Keegan #American Prometheus #28 Days Later #Danny Boyle #Inception #Dunkirk #Batman Trilogy #Bhagavad Gita #Emily Blunt #Kitty #Matt Damon #The Sons of Mr. Green Genes #Watchmen

[simon-newman]

Another franchise intentionally ran into the fucking ground

So... I've heard before about the supposed "Alien 5" idea that got scrapped/put on indefinite hold.

Today it came up in a discussion with friends and I tried to look into it more.

Apparently the idea is not really new but not quite as old as the original four (sic!) movies.

The whole thing comes from 2015 and is a series of concept arts released to the public and a 50 page sketch of a script.

From what concept arts suggested the movie (sometimes called "Alien: Awakening") would erase Alien 3 and 4 from canon and continue with older Ripley, Hicks and adult Newt forming a resistance against WY who somehow obtained and were experimenting with Xenomorph samples.

Cool. Workable. If done correctly I am sure it'd be welcome addition by the fans.

20th Century Fox actually recognized the fans enthusiasm and greenlit the project before no one else but Ridley Scott got involved.

The idea was then shelved indefinitely with Scott instead gaining the right to produce more movies to his "Alien Prequel Story" started with Prometheus...

Now. We all know how Alien: Covenant turned out. Not great. Now there's third movie from the series coming up titled "Alien: Awakening". Sounds familiar? Worry not. It'll likely get released as just "Awakening" instead. And won't feature our beloved Xenomorphs.

Why?

Apparently Ridley Scott sees Xenomorphs as old idea that can't be of use in film anymore. According to him the Alien Franchise "Needs to move on" and away from Xenomorphs...

Like. Dude... You are making your movies riding on the back of the Alien Franchise - THE Xenomorph franchise.

If you want to make new "space monster" horror movies that's fine. But don't make them under the name of existing franchise of a different, beloved space monster.

Also - if you can't think of a new, interesting way to use the Xenomorphs that's fully on you. There's an entire de-canonized extended universe featuring it. A whole goldmine of ideas to be used, never before brought to the big screen. You really say there's nothing to do with it anymore?

Fuck off!

Hollywood needs to stop hiring directors who hate franchises they're supposed to work with.

#Alien #Xenomorph #Movies #Alien Franchise #Hollywood #It feels great to see all of your childhood's beloved franchises ran into the fucking ground #Brainrot #Random #Just random rambling

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

JON SNOW DAY 15 : Jon & The Smith  (Faith of the Seven)

If you were told to associate Jon Snow with one of the seven deites of the Seven you would probably draw comparisons between him and the Warrior.

When Catelyn prays to the Seven, she sees Jon's face among those who resemble the Warrior.

"The Warrior stands before the foe...[...] He protects the little children"; as a popular song of the seven kingdoms informs us. And what are the Black brothers if not protectors of the realm?

I'm not denying the connection between the Warrior's image and Jon Snow. I just wanted to talk about his less explored connection to the Smith.

So, who is The Smith?

Meribald turned back to Podrick. "I have never known a boy who did not love the Warrior. I am old, though, and being old, I love the Smith. Without his labor, what would the Warrior defend? Every town has a smith, and every castle. They make the plows we need to plant our crops, the nails we use to build our ships, iron shoes to save the hooves of our faithful horses, the bright swords of our lords. No one could doubt the value of a smith, and so we name one of the Seven in his honor, but we might as easily have called him the Farmer or the Fisherman, the Carpenter or the Cobbler. What he works at makes no matter. What matters is, he works.

AFFC, BRIENNE V

According to Septon Meribald, the Smith is someone who works and his labor is used to help other people.

Jon is the only character on a position of power  (being Lord Commander) who has also working experience. Unlike the rest of lordings/kings & queens who simply inherit their title, he had to earn his own. When he first joined the Night's Watch, he had to work, like eveybody else who was a newcomer. Jon being the previous Lord Commander's steward means that he was used to serving - and giving his personal labor- before he started to rule and give orders.

Here are the tasks of the stewards, the order in which Jon belonged before he became Lord Commander:

Chett gave an angry scowl. "I'm a steward. You think it's easy work, fit for cowards? The order of stewards keeps the Watch alive. We hunt and farm, tend the horses, milk the cows, gather firewood, cook the meals. Who do you think makes your clothing? Who brings up supplies from the south? The stewards."

AGOT, JON V

Also, according to Brother Narbert, the Smith gave horses to men in order to help them to do their work:

The jest did not sit well with Brother Narbert. "You are a knight, ser. Driftwood is a beast of burden. The Smith gave men horses to help them in their labors."

Here the Smith is presented as the asoiaf universe Prometheus from greek mythology. Just like Prometheus gave fire to men to aid them, the Smith gave them horses.

Does Jon Snow has any Prometheus - Smith moment? Tha answer to this question is, more than one. At the beginning of the first book, he gave his little sister a sword so she could learn to protect herself. He asked an actual smith to make that sword and when he presented it to Arya, he also gave her the first fighting lesson: stick them with the pointy end. Both the sword and that first lesson are significant on Arya's journey and help her survive (along with the swordsmanship skills she received later on).

During the Night's Watch journey beyond the Wall, Jon found - thanks to his direwolf- dragonglass at The Fist of First Men.  Unlike other Black Brothers who are skeptical of dragonglass, Jon believes that those materials were buried due to their importance and decides to make weapons out of them and give them to his friends and Jeor Mormont. He becomes a sort of literal smith offering weapons to those who are dear to him in order to help them protect themselves.  Sometime later, Sam will use one of those daggers Jon made to kill an Other.  Jon Snow as Prometheus - Smith served his purpose to aid men with his gift.

#jonsnowfortnightevent2023 #asoiafcanonjonsnow #canonjonsnow #jon snow #valyrianscrolls #a post of ice and fire #asoiaf meta #jon snow meta #mymeta

[anxiouspotatorants]

1899 modern village AU thoughts because I want to:

Elliot is alive and recovering from a serious illness that nearly destroyed the family and became the catalyst for Maura breaking free from not just Henry but Ciaran. Basically Ciaran brought the worst of Maura out during the hospitalization process and it broke their relationship. 

Maura and Daniel decided as a unit to move far away and start fresh. They both got lecturing jobs at an up-and coming university on the coast, and went house hunting in the neighbouring villages. They fell in love with a cottage in a tiny fishing town and bought it.

The town is called Kerberos. Its official population is a little under 2,000. Their main source of employment is the fishing industry, with a predominant French research group and a small fishing company run by migrated Germans. There’s a dominating immigrant population in town due to the fishing jobs, mostly from Germany but also Denmark, Hong Kong, Spain, Poland and more.

Maura and Daniel work at Prometheus University. Maura takes a break from experiments in favour of teaching neuroscience, but soon enough she gets into research again and works on projects with her colleagues. 

Daniel works with computer science and insists that all of his students enroll in one ethics-themed subject.

There aren’t enough kids in town for there to be a school, so Elliot has to commute to an elementary in a nearby town. There’s a school bus that ends up collecting him and Ada every morning and drops them off every afternoon.

The Franklin-Solace family (no way Maura kept the Singleton name), live side by side with Eyk, who’s in charge of the largest (and only) fishing company in town. He’s in therapy and recovery after the aftermath of a tragic family incident, and bonds quickly with his neighbours. Maura and him talk a lot about loss. He’s on endearing grunt-terms with Daniel. Elliot thinks he’s a bit weird, but likes asking him about nautical facts and showing him pictures of bugs.

Ada’s family owns a pub that they’ve styled in their home country fashion. Iben is a strict matriarch and both of the older children work at the pub at least part time. Tove has complete control over the German fishers (often pretending to cut off Franz) while Krester is a little clumsy with orders. 

A lot of the fishers live in a larger apartment block or in smaller groups in smaller houses. Franz, Wilhelm and Eugen live together, while Olek bunks with Darrel and Landon, as well as Jérôme when he moves to town.

Jérôme works on the French side of the docks and applied to get transferred over because he has a bone to pick with Lucien. Him and Clémence grow close quickly, and frankly the French trio becomes a mess on all sides and directions.

Lucien scammed his way into becoming the top representative for the French research team, but the real leader on this side is Virginia Wilson, who is also the town’s collector of gossip. She knows everything about everyone and cannot stand being left in the dark.

Ling Yi and Yuk Je moved to town a couple of years ago when Yuk Je got a managerial job for the docks. Ling Yi is enrolled to Prometheus and decides to take Maura’s class out of curiosity. She often spends hours at the campus library reading syllabus next to Olek, who is taking computer science part-time alongside his job on the docks.

Olek and Krester both take computer science, but Krester is on full-time. Krester also gets into an affair with a Spanish art history lecturer, which gets super awkward when said lecturer takes his Portuguese boyfriend for lunch at Krester’s family restaurant.

When Sebastian comes back from sea, Maura and Daniel tense up because they recognize him as a former colleague at Henry Singleton’s company. They might never get along, but the three get used to living in the same town.

Clémence joined Lucien when he was moved to Kerberos but doesn’t really have much to do so she tries to make projects for herself. She befriends Tove and starts taking random classes at Prometheus in search of a passion.

Ramiro has an explosive on-again-off-again relationship with Ángel and picks up work at the German docks to get some space. He also finds a weird companionship by discussing religion with Anker at the pub.

The amount of cultural exchange and multilingual antics in town is hilarious. The pub has Danish titles for their meals. The Germans sing sea shanties on late nights there and teach them to Tove. Daniel and Elliot gossip in Welsh when they don’t want anyone else to understand. Ling Yi and Olek are learning each other’s birth languages behind each other’s backs as a surprise. Ángel tries to convince Krester to get boquerones on the menu. As one of her antics, Clémence organizes a French New Wave screening festival. Virginia insists on trying to make the national holidays of every represented country in town official days off in Kerberos.

Eyk tries to take the kids fishing once, but Elliot finds the other fishermen scary and prefers the look of shellfish anyway. 

Ada steals Maura’s research notes while she’s eating dinner at the pub once and begs to be taken under her wing immediately.

Maura and Daniel have a fascination with late 60′s-early 70s music and style, which is reflected in the interior of their new home. There are a lot of jokes at the expense of their wallpaper.

Maura and Daniel have lunch together every day on campus and become the it-couple for students who are craving gossip out of boredom and procrastination. One time Eyk visits and sits down for lunch with Maura alone, causing all of the students to theorize that there’s a split or a love triangle. When he visits again and Daniel joins them for lunch, some of the same students jump from being ‘team Solace’ or ‘team Captain’ to shipping them as a trio. Daniel’s the first to find out because Olek snitches, and he laughs so hard he loses his breath.

#have I done nearly enough research for this au? nope #do I still have a crappy first draft lying around? you betcha #1899 au #my aus #maura x daniel #maura franklin #daniel solace #elliot 1899 #eyk larsen #olek x ling yi #ling yi #olek 1899 #lucien x clémence #jérôme x clemence #lucien 1899 #clémence 1899 #jérôme 1899 #yuk je #franz 1899 #tove 1899 #ada 1899 #anker 1899 #iben 1899 #krester 1899 #krester x ángel #ángel x ramiro #ángel 1899 #ramiro 1899 #sebastian 1899 #virginia wilson

[raccoonfallsharder]

꧁･:☁︎⋆. cicatrix .⋆☁︎:･꧂

chapter five. o'erpine. [new 4/2] ✩

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 5/25+ | wip | word count: pending. masterlist, notes, & moodboard | chapter five. o'erpine.

a conflict arises. a series of truths come out. see below for warnings & notes.

“Pearl?” The call is quiet — he’s trying to chew back his annoyance, to make his voice reasonable and maybe even something like penitent, since he knows he probably should be. The lonesome word echoes down into the hold. There’s no response, and he glares into the dark shadows. Did she lock herself in the engine room or something? Or is she just stubbornly refusing to answer? When he sniffs, he’s pretty sure he can pick up on the fragrance of her — soft and clear under the scent of his soap and his shirt. She smells like clean riverways, and — he figures it out then, the memory calling to him out of nowhere — like this kind of cool, honey-sweet water lily he’d noticed carpeting some of the freshwater canals when he was hunting down a bounty on Morag. Noticed is maybe an understatement, because he’d liked them — took big deep breaths of them every time their fragrance hit the air. Wouldn’t have minded swimming in ‘em, if there had been time for luxury.  He sighs, and groans, and eases his way down the ladder. “Pearl?” Apologize, he orders himself, and he rolls his eyes as his lip curls in irritation. He’s not sure he can scrape out another m’sorry, but he can at least admit he’s a dickhead. “Look. I know I been a jackass—“

masterlist, notes, & moodboard | chapter five. 'erpine. inspired by mary shelley’s frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs.

WARNINGS for chapter five: a few descriptions of physical nausea/pre-vomiting. it’s been less than a day since chapter two so we’ve still got a lot of regret to process. descriptions of leftover physical pain and references to some of the rough/hate-sex from chapter two. discussion of non-sexual child abuse and controlling behaviors/manipulation. discussion of pet death and intentionally self-inflicted allergic reactions. brief flashbacks to lylla’s execution.

trying to sprint a lil with three updates this month. i used to write a lot of tragic shit but this is probably the angstiest stuff i've written and there are a lot of departures from my usual approach to writing (so much mental grovelling, so much upfront emotional work - i hope it doesn't end up boring as we continue on). thanks for bearing with me, as always. i am eternally grateful. you can check out the masterlist for an idea of approximately where we're headed in the future (got a few tenative chapter summaries up!)

some explicit statements or references ✩ abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

#cicatrix #fanfiction preview #rocket raccoon smut #rocket smut #gotg rocket #rocket raccoon lemons #gotg x oc #rocket raccoon x oc #angst with a happy ending #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon fanfiction #gotg fanfiction #rocket gotg #gotg rocket x oc #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocketraccoon #rocket raccoon x original character #oc x rocket raccoon

[popentertainment-moviereviews]

OPPENHEIMER (2023)

Starring Cillian Murphy, Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Robert Downey Jr., Florence Pugh, Josh Hartnett, Casey Affleck, Rami Malek, Kenneth Branagh, Benny Safdie, Dylan Arnold, Gustaf Skarsgård, David Krumholtz, Matthew Modine, David Dastmalchian, Tom Conti, Michael Angarano, Jack Quaid, Josh Peck, Olivia Thirlby, Dane DeHaan, Danny Deferrari, Alden Ehrenreich, Jefferson Hall, Jason Clarke, James D'Arcy, Tony Goldwyn, Devon Bostick, Alex Wolff, Scott Grimes, Josh Zuckerman, Matthias Schweighöfer, Christopher Denham, David Rysdahl, Guy Burnet, Louise Lombard, Harrison Gilbertson, Emma Dumont, Trond Fausa Aurvåg, Olli Haaskivi, Gary Oldman, John Gowans, Kurt Koehler, Macon Blair, Harry Groener, Jack Cutmore-Scott, James Remar, Gregory Jbara, Tim DeKay and James Urbaniak.

Screenplay by Christopher Nolan.

Directed by Christopher Nolan.

Distributed by Universal Pictures. 180 minutes. Rated R.

J. Robert Oppenheimer was certainly one of the more complex men – with one of the more complex legacies – in modern history.

He was a scientist who believed in the sanctity of life, and yet his greatest discovery is forever linked to massive death. He was called both a war hawk and a communist, but in this film, he refers to himself as a New Deal Democrat. He created the most awesome weapon in American history (at the time), but he apparently sincerely hoped the specter of nuclear Armageddon would stop people from using it.

His invention of the atomic bomb certainly put an exclamation point on the end of World War II, and yet as Oppenheimer points out, it may not have even been necessary. Hitler was dead, Germany had fallen, and the Japanese were teetering. Chances are good they would have surrendered even without having two of their cities annihilated. (Oppenheimer actually tried to talk Harry S. Truman out of using the bomb on Japan, feeling that just the knowledge that it was there may be enough of a deterrent.) He spent much of his later life trying to protest the use of his greatest achievement.

He was a loving, doting husband and also a total womanizer. He was a good friend and at the same time he was rather self-involved. He became a scientific celebrity, but he was an intensely private man who rather hated the spotlight. He was a mostly non-political man who became entangled in several political morasses. He had passionately held beliefs, but he often was unwilling to fight the injustices going on around him, simply hoping against hope that the people on the other side would come to their senses. And he always overestimated the intrinsic good in people.

It perhaps makes a certain amount of sense that the film about Oppenheimer’s life would be helmed by Christopher Nolan, a similarly complex character. Nolan is a brilliant filmmaker (The Dark Knight, Inception, Memento), but not always all that good as a storyteller (Interstellar, Tenet, Batman Begins).

Well, with Oppenheimer, Nolan has one hell of a story to tell. It’s smart, thought-provoking, tragic, and intensely timely even decades after the action took place. And even though the film runs a little bit long (three hours!) and has occasional slow patches, it is quite probably Nolan’s best film.

Based on the Pulitzer Prize–winning 2005 biography American Prometheus by Kai Bird and Martin Sherwin, Oppenheimer takes a measured, scientist’s perspective to the life and times of a flawed but basically brilliant man. From his youth in university, through the Manhattan Project and his later time as an advocate against nuclear proliferation, Oppenheimer flips back and forth through the years and history, putting a microscope on a man who probably never totally wanted the scrutiny.

Framed around an attempted political takedown of the scientist in his later years, Oppenheimer is both a courtroom drama and a truly inspired celebration of science, both its good and bad aspects.

Along those lines, know going in that Oppenheimer is not going to dumb things down for mass consumption. It is often talky and takes on complicated scientific and philosophical concepts and respects the audience enough to assume that they will be able to keep up.

Oppenheimer is a thoughtful, intelligent and gorgeously shot snapshot of our recent history. Do not be surprised to see a lot of this film on Oscar night next year.

Jay S. Jacobs

Copyright ©2023 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: July 21, 2023.

#Oppenheimer #2023 #Movie Review #Christopher Nolan #Cillian Murphy #Jay S. Jacobs #Youtube

[primevein]

The Prime of His Youth: Book III: Prometheus' Gift: Ch14: Water Well

Japheth, Arcee, and Sirenia stepped into the catwalks of the first basin. Bijou ran up and bowed before him. "My Prime." she said.

"I'm the same... man... I was last time." Japheth replied. Bijou stood up and looked at him nervously. He looked down at the catwalk, "Is this safe... for my new body?.." he asked.

"Oh, yes. Despite the smaller size, it is still built to standard Cybertronian physical requirements."

"Oh, good." Japheth stated, "I would like to inspect all of the basins. If you could accompany me?" he asked.

"How much time do you have?" Bijou asked.

Japheth looked behind him, "Siren?" he asked.

"6 cycles." Sirenia stated. "Based off the estimate."

"Lots of time." Bijou stated, "You're sure you want me?"

Japheth looked at Sirenia, who shyly looked down, "Unless you have someone else you think should do it?"

"Tethys?" she asked, and saw disappointment on his face. She pondered for a moment. "Barrelrider?" she asked.

Japheth shrugged, "There are a lot of faces here for me for me to learn." he stated.

"I'll call her." Bijou said, and closely looked at how Japheth was taking up the entire catwalk. "Maybe you could?.."

"We'll wait in the office." Arcee said. She turned around. She gently grabbed Sirenia's shoulders, and turned her around as well. Japheth turned around behind them, and they filed out of the area.

Arcee waved her arm in the air, "Thank you!" she shouted.

"My pleasure!" Bijou replied, "My Prime!"

Japheth sighed.

"Better get used to it." Arcee said, and Sirenia let out a snicker before quickly silencing herself.

* * *

Japheth, Arcee, and Sirenia stood in the office looking at each other, "Something on your mind?" Arcee asked Sirenia. She looked afraid for a moment, "Come on!" Arcee asserted, "This is us! You can be honest with us."

"I'm sorry." Sirenia voiced, "It's just, now everyone here can worship you like I do."

"Worship?" Japheth nervously asked.

"Silently?" Sirenia asked.

"You are, kind of... you know... a god now..." Arcee stated, and Japheth sighed.

Japheth grabbed Sirenia's arm and pulled her in for a hug. "You know I'll forgive you for this." he uttered.

"I know..." She sniffled.

"I knew what it would mean to become a Prime." Japheth stated.

"You, what, had a choice?" Arcee asked.

"I was offered to simply return to my life." he stated, still clutching Sirenia dearly.

"Then, why did you?" Arcee asked, and gave him a knowing smile. "The world needed you."

"There is so much I can do as a Prime." Japheth stated, "I can't hide from it anymore. I don't have to worry about having to explain who am I and why I should be allowed to help. Now, I can just help."

"And you want to find all of the lost colonies?" Arcee asked.

"That... might be a bit ambitious." Japheth stated. He loosed his grip on Sirenia, but she still clutched to him fully, so he held her tight again, "But now I have all the time in the world. More than a world. All the time in the universe." Japheth stated.

"And I'll be with you the entire time." Arcee added. "Someone has to keep you alive.

Japheth nodded his head towards her. Arcee moved in and he kissed her. "Like I could live without all of my girls." he replied, finally letting Sirenia go. She slipped out from under his arm.

"What about June?" Arcee asked.

"I want her to be able to relax..." Japheth stated, "She's spent her entire life taking care of me. Even more since the end of The War. I want her to be able to relax, and live what kind of life she wants to live."

"She does as well." Sirenia stated, "She is so proud of you, and knows that Arcee will always be by your side, protecting you. I will, as well. If could..."

Japheth smiled at her, and she let out a shy smile.

"I'm going to need a new sword." Japheth stated.

"Knockout is working on a few candidates." Sirenia stated, and he gave her a curious look. "The Cybertronians in the First Terran Rangers have grown... not exponentially, but each individual one provides disproportionate power. He has been working on more weapon options for them."

"I shouldn't be surprised." Japheth stated.

"He will also make a cheerleader outfit for Roxana." Sirenia said with glee.

Arcee looked about nervously. "I did like the idea." Japheth stated, and Arcee gave him a curious look, "I wasn't sure we were going to keep her."

"More like trying to lie to yourself about it." Sirenia said, and then looked shocked.

"No, I think she was right." Arcee said. "But now, I can do the usual Human things, and jealously chase off anyone that tries to get close."

"Thank you." Japheth stated.

"You have all the femmes you need." Arcee stated, and Sirenia looked nervous, "Oh, you are the most important one of all." Sirenia gave her a curious look, "You are the one he has to look out for. Looking after you is why he is the 'Bot he is today."

"Both literally and figuratively." Japheth stated, and turned his head as a new femme walked in. Arcee stood upright, while Sirenia looked passed Japheth without focusing. "Barrelrider, I presume?" Japheth stated.

She bowed, "My Prime."

Japheth smiled while Arcee started snickering. "That's going to keep happening, isn't it?" Japheth asked. He then looked Barrelrider in the eyes, "I'm the same man I was last time I came here. You don't need to worship the ground I walk on." he stated.

"How about the water that falls off of you?" Barrelrider cheerfully asked, and Japheth sighed. "So, I hear you want me to show you every part of our hydrology system?" she asked. Japheth's face agreed. She looked at Arcee, who seemed disinterested.

"I'm here because he is here." Arcee stated. "Maybe I'll learn something?"

Barrelrider looked at Sirenia, whom was still looking away, "Still the same Sirenia..." she voiced. She then looked at Japheth, "Well, let's get started."

* * *

All of the basins were connected, not just with inner sluice gates, but with stairways the spiraled around the central water well. Going to each basin in turn. Walking from one end to the other. He learned how the levels were kept, how the measurements were done, what ideal conditions were thought to be, about what probems can be caused. Since this was for the sake of plants, they added nutrients to the first level, the one that flowed right under the surface. Most of it was used up by the end of the terrace. Before it cascaded down to the next level it was filtered until it was pure once again.

That said, many of the hydrologists would take time to simply race around the water. They would often eagerly come up to the catwalks to show their respect, (and sometimes giggles). Arcee was sure to give them a harsh glare. They would pay their respects and move along. At the end of the day, or however long it was, they ended up having to climb stairs from the last basin. The water flowed out, the city did not have access below the terrace. They at least had some senses of defensibility.

As they climbed out it was dawn, the dark of the night being washed away by the coming light. They climbed the stairs until they were standing on the surface of the lowest terrace. Japheth simply enjoyed the sights. Arcee and Sirenia quickly moving in beside him. His arms embraced the two.

"Will that be all?" Barrelrider asked.

Japheth turned his head towards her, "Thank you." he sincerely stated.

She started walking back down the stairs.

"Siren?" Japheth, and it took her a moment to return to reality.

"Master?" she asked.

"How long?" he asked.

"2 cycles." she stated.

"How time flies..." Japheth voiced. "Let's go harass my mother."

* * *

Japheth took up the entire corridor as he walked into the medicaeron. The femme at the front gave him a curious, expectant, reverent look. "I'm here to pick up my mother." he simply stated.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, and stepped away from her desk. She turned and ran into the back.

"This is so bizarre." Arcee stated. Japheth turned fully around to give her a curious look, "For most of my life, going to the med bay usually meant automatic Energon infusions. How can they be so relaxed?"

"There is a separate bay for emergencies," Sirenia stated, "and they would be going out to retrieve the patient, so would have plenty of time to get ready for it."

"I feel like this is what people mean when they say 'white women'."

"Too be fair?" Japheth asked. "Yeah."

"Typically refers to WASPs." Sirenia stated.

"Wasps?" Arcee asked, "Those little insecticons? Swarms of poison needles?" Sirenia looked at her with a brilliant smile. "What?"

Sirenia looked at Japheth. "What?" Japheth asked, "I was raised Catholic. Kind of."

Sirenia looked at Arcee, "White-Anglosaxon-Protestant."

"Saxophones?" Arcee asked.

"The Anglo-Saxons were the tribe that dominated England, which eventually gave us modern English."

"Wait, wasps come from England?" Arcee asked, and Sirenia had trouble not laughing at this.

"In swarms." Japheth said with a smile. He looked at Sirenia, but she was smiling too much to answer. He looked back to Arcee, "The 'White Anglo-Saxon Protestants' were the main immigrants to the US. What we consider US culture was mainly created by them. Catholics like me were oppressed."

"You were oppressed?" Arcee.

"Me?" Japheth asked, "God no. I mean..." he said, and sighed. "The US long ago established the freedom of religion. But, once the culture was established, it kind of stayed there. When people say 'white people', that's what they mean."

"That makes SO much more sense." Arcee stated. "Am I a white people?" she asked.

"She is prickly." Sirenia said with a smile, and then instantly looked worried.

Arcee put her hand on her shoulder, and pulled her square towards her. "Look up." she said with her usual harshness. Sirenia slowly looked up, only to see a brilliant smile. Arcee moved in to kiss her before quickly pulling away. "Good work."

June stepped out, followed by Roxana. The secretary then stepped out and back to her desk.

"Did you need me?" June asked.

Japheth simply walked over to her in silent haste. He quickly picked her up, and she looked at him curiously. "Have you taken a break?" he asked.

"A few..." June said, and looked distance as she thought it over. The answer was largely no. She had been working for... she wasn't sure.

"Siren?" Japheth asked.

"Hm?" Sirenia asked, her eyes swiftly opening. "It has been 8 cycles." she stated.

"It's been what?!" June asked.

"Hence why I've come to kidnap you." he said. He snugged up on her and walked towards the doorway. He turned back to the secretary. "Thank you." he said, and she smiled in reply.

#transformers #prime #the prime of his youth #darcee #jack darby #arcee

[dp-marvel94]

hi!! i just got your prompts for the truce and i wanted to check if you have any headcanons about the clones, dark danny, or danny as a dad?

(i will also probably be rewatching the ultimate enemy and kindred spirits to get more info considering it has been a hot minute for me XD) 💚💚💚

Hi! Thank you for asking! I'll try to keep this brief, since I could go on for hours and do need to go to sleep at some point. XD

Clones- All the clones were/are self aware, not mindless like they're treated in the episode. They're all siblings, including Dani(I usually call her Elle) and love each other very much. I like the idea of them all coming back as full ghosts. But them being stabilized and actually being half ghosts with humans forms is really great too. Either way, they're free of Vlad now and explore the Ghost Zone and/or Earth as a family.

The names I usually use from the are:

Damian/Dami for the Tiny Clone

Ezekiel/Zeke for the Skeletal Clone

Prometheus/Pro for the Muscly clone

Daniel/Niel for the Prime "perfect" clone

Dark Danny- For his characterization, I usually treat him as Danny but older and evil. There is some influence from Vlad but more what you'd expect from living with someone for a while. And not from having any of Plasmuis' memories or personality. My headcanon for why he decided to destroy everything- he wanted the pain to go away at a universal scale; if they were no one around, there would be no one in pain. It's a very twisted version of his motivation for splitting in the first place. I love the idea that he secretly regrets killing Fenton, his Danny. That act was part suicide (He was Danny and Danny didn't want to live anymore), part mercy killing (His human self wanted to die so he made it happen), and part fit of rage (He was angry about being rejected by himself, by his other half). But in the end he really regrets doing that because with his human half gone, he's incomplete. Maybe, if he'd died full as Danny Fenton-Phantom, as Danny the half ghost, then he wouldn't be here. Or he'd been a full ghost but still completely himself. But a part of him is gone and he'll never be whole, never really be himself again.

Maybe he's wrong about this and not as far gone as he thinks. Maybe the part of him that's Danny Fenton, the part that feeling, loves, and hurts, is still there, inside of him. Maybe it's an echo, a memory, an imprint. Or maybe it's something else.

Danny as a dad- He's a good father. :) Danny's a big hugger just like his own dad is. He loves playing with his kids, teaching them about their powers. I think he has a bit of angst of the idea of his kids inheriting his ghostliness. They'll always be right on the edge like him, not quite human and not quite ghost. It's a hard thing to face and he doesn't want his kids to have to face the pains that came with that but there's also a comfort that they'll never have to go it alone like he did.

I love the idea of Danny call his kids "His little one(s)" when they're young, like baby or toddler age. I saw that used in @floralflowerpower 's "A Bolt from the Green" and it absolutly melts my heart. I ended up using that in my one dad!Danny story too. It's called "Offspring of my Ectoplasm. My child." Bare with me for the strange start but in that one, Danny ends up with a son due to weird ghostly asexual reproduction. He and Sam end up naming the little guy Jackson. I don't really have any other preferred names for Danny's kids but feel free to use that one.

Also, if it doesn't weird you out, weird ghostly reproduction is a fun way for children to be acquired. As is Vlad cloning Danny again and Danny adopting said infant clone. Also the more typical ways that human's have kids. XD

#Danny Phantom #my post

[nochiquinn]

book 3 part 3: i yam what i yam & dat’s what i yam

Iset had spread her sheltering hand over Cleopatra and her son, Caesarion, for as long as they were in Egypt. And then they had both left for Rome, where she could barely reach them.

I gotta do those books, too, those are gonna be an experience

Tendrils scored and scraped along Set’s body as he grasped Horus’s wrists, trying to pull him away, with more than just his body. He was trying to send him to the Veil. Where it was safe. Where Horus could recover. No one kills my brother but me, Set snarled. He is mine. We are bound.

I love Egyptian mythology

Some of the more conservative Judean newspapers had headlined this event with the words, Pharaoh, Take Your People Home! which was apparently a reference to something that had occurred some three thousand years ago.

Minori infinitely preferred visiting Prometheus to visiting Sophia Caetia—before or after her final breakdown. Prometheus, she could understand, and respect. Sophia...was simply mad.

be nice, none of this is her fault

“Sig has a centaur admirer,” Adam replied tersely, and took the plate out of Mazatl’s hand with his free one, bracing the door open with his shoulder as he continued to lean on his cane. “He comes and leaves her little tokens of his affection once or twice a year. On the new year and in Aprilis.” The sarcasm dwindled as he went on, leaving his words oddly sorrowful. [...] About all I’ve gotten out of Sig is his name—Nikolaos. [...] Goes into Little Gothia and talks to people about a . . . death-goddess, apparently.”

nikolaos is the exact center of sig’s belief network

“I’ve never quite been able to understand how good people can worship dark gods.” He held up a hand, almost as weathered as Ehecatl’s own. “They said that they were propitiating Shiva. Asking him not to do bad things. Keeping him happy. Sounds like extortion to me.”

Ehecatl snorted and rolled his dice. “Only you, ben Maor, would call worship extortion.”

at least they get some tangible feedback on their worship

“To us polytheists, monotheists seem to be ignoring half of creation, or just hoping that it will go away, if they close their eyes tightly enough. Night isn’t evil. It’s part of the universe. Death isn’t necessarily evil, either. Worshipping a deity of night and death isn’t going to make those things go away. It’s about respect.”

THANK you, Ehecatl

You have always been...my good servant, Serpentshadow...which is why...I protected you...shielded your memory...from the others. Didn’t...deserve their malice...

Quetzacoatl is a good god-dad

Only then did Quetzalcoatl look down at himself, and realized, to his mild surprise, that Ehecatl’s tattoos still showed on his skin. They were, however, made of shining light now, not the heavy black marks that had run and spread with age. Every binding goes both ways, he said, quietly. The binder is bound. And we change each other.

it’s fusion!

Am I the only person left who values being human? Am I the only person on earth who’s choosing to remain what I am?

yes, because you refuse to acknowledge the difference between mortality and humanity.

Nith’s head, the only part of him that could fit inside the tent, lifted slightly as his eyes focused on her.

this is adorable

“He marks the anniversary of Sophia’s attack every year,” Adam told her, his voice hard. “A goddamned horrible thing to celebrate.”

“He’s not celebrating. He’s remembering.”

how does Adam not recognize a memorial

Before you two disappear into the archives to spend the entire night verifying that yes, Nith can read, and that yes, you two do indeed have some two thousand years of missed conversations to make up for... she endured the ice crystals to the back of her neck with what dignity she could muster

I love them

Generations of young bear-warriors have tried to woo pretty girls with the line, ‘Do you not wish to have the might of Thor inside you?’ And quite a few of those have been daughters of my line. Sigrun cleared her mind and turned her face into a mask. Loki cackled. You want to say it. You desperately want to say it.

tell the fucking dick joke, sigrun

You are as much my daughter as Hel was. You hold much of her essence inside of you. You are, in fact, as I hoped she would become. Loki leaned forwards, and brushed a kiss on Sigrun’s hair.

this is very cute and also I love Loki

The Differently-Human Marriage Seminar? We can’t just say ‘cross-species,’ because some of them still can interbreed with regular humans...

I mean, “mixed marriage” is right there.

But male centaur/female human wasn’t going to work out in the long run.

Sex is not necessary for a healthy relationship!

Unless both of you are willing to give up some central human experiences—passion, children, family—and are content with a merely companionate relationship in the early years of your lives, you can’t really expect a committed monogamous relationship from each other, can you?

I hate literally every word in this sentence. Stupid, short-sighted, allonormative bullshit.

Are you going to live my life with me, instead of trying to find ways to live in death?

...yes. Because you ask it of me.

‘cause that’s healthy. she needs therapy, not to hang all her self-worth on Brandr.

We are at least holding our own— The thought was cut off as Ītzpāpālōtl retaliated, arrowing straight for Nith’s face, landing on his snout with all the force of her mass, accelerated to close to the speed of sound.

you jinxed it

He’d flinched at the notion that people were praying to his wife—and more so, at the idea that she was listening to them. That seemed a sure route to arrogance, pride, and believing all this...tripe.

oh, fuck off

Not that you have asked, but I suffered a broken snout, thirty-seven cuts, shattered scales, and a few fractured ribs. Sigrun prevented me from being blinded, for which I thank my lady.

pay attention to nith

I don’t know you, Steelsoul denied. Have I done you some harm, somehow?

You have. You will.

What did I do? What will I do, that you hate me for? Steelsoul was bewildered.

You’ll listen more to your head than to your heart, and you’ll destroy my life and yours. No. I’m not making one of Trueseer’s damnable predictions here. And the thing that kills me—hah—is that you won’t just make that mistake once. You’ll do it again. You’re doing it again.

The Guardian is 100% Adam from a doomed timeline where he fucked everything up by being a tool

Zaya went still as he continued to rub her neck, gently. “You...don’t see any hope, do you?”

Maccis considered lying. But in the end, this was Zaya. She deserved the truth. “I’m sorry. I wish I did, Zee. But I don’t.”

maybe Maccis should not have become a mercenary at 17

And now, the old god and the old man shared a cynical laugh.

I enjoy the mental image of Ehecatl and Quetzalcoatl sitting on a balcony Statler and Waldorf style

Mamaquilla! Odin shouted, his voice echoing across the continent, ringing back from the mountains. Defend your people! The earth will dance today!

From the lonely moon-goddess of Tawantinsuyu, defiance. Let it dance. They invade my lands, they sacrifice my people, for whom my beloved laid down his life? End them! End them all!

I just really like her

The relativity of time’s passage, am I five yet, am I five yet? I can’t wait till I’m ten! Oh, gods, how am I looking at my fortieth birthday already? No, I can’t be sixty-five, I’m not ready to be old...

me, deep in my midlife crisis: mood

I see Stormborn weeping over my body, but her cloak is white, and when I say her name in farewell...it is the first time she has ever heard me.

Nith pre-remembering a doomed timeline

“You, Kanmi?” Adam said, levering himself into a chair. “You’re going to champion humanity’s nature?”

“I always have. It’s just that they keep letting me down.”

that’s a mood

Kanmi exhaled. “Yes. I had a very, very long talk with Matru. I’m building a realm there.” He gave Adam a sidelong glance as the other man stiffened a little.

shut up, Adam, Kanmi’s making a Veil library, he’s living the dream

Sigrun patted her on the shoulder, and left, and was ambushed at the balcony door by Brandr, who picked her up off the ground in a bear-hug. “What’s that for?” she asked, blankly.

hug ur gods

She was suddenly acutely aware of how Nith’s wings caught the wind, the way his body vibrated with the air-flow, which transmitted up through her legs, where she rode, wedged between neck ridges.

👀

They are attempting to follow us, she pointed out.

All things should strive

I love Nith

You see me as I was when I went to the Odinhall. Awkward. Socially inept.” She laughed under her breath. “Adam doesn’t believe in me. Why should you?”

The look of irritation on Erikir’s face was nothing to Nith’s low growl, which shook the ground, shattering every icicle and in the area.

Nith said fuck Adam

Apollo of Rome died.

ONE DOWN ONE TO GO

When Jormangand rose again, the metal poured down from his scales like the blood of the earth.

someone use this as an album cover

None of them knew it then, but neither Eir nor Coyote would re-emerge. Later, they wouldn’t even be certain that the pair had entered the Veil, in the end. If they’d somehow gone to the Aether . . . they’d be lost there, forever. Nameless.

they fell into a coffee shop au

And then Loki turned his mount, and carried Hecate with him back towards Jormangand. You speak as one about to die, he said, quietly.

I hope that such is not the case. But Prometheus does not see me returning. Her tone was unruffled and cool. He tells me, in tones of great grief, that the probability of Jormangand turning on me and devouring me after transit, is great. Greater still is the probability that I will burn out what power I have left, taking the serpent to Mars. I may die. Or I may become no more than a house-spirit. She paused, thoughtfully. We will have to see if I have regained enough of my power to survive.

she’s just. she’s just so fucking cool.

“Burning incense clogs the CO2 filters,” she said, quietly. “But if Mars has any kami after all...please accept my offering.”

There were no mice in Eden. But when she returned to the table ten minutes later, the rice cake was gone.

Hecate, house-spirit of Mars.

Can’t you, just for a little while...be here, in the moment, with me? Be human with me? Being human used to be important to you. But I guess it isn’t, anymore.

the world is burning, Adam

He’d lived his life for Rome. And now, he rather thought that Rome owed him a death.

This is Hadrianus, whom we have not met before now, and immediately he produces this badass line

It might even move out of orbit, and try to consume the sun itself.

that’s Reapers

“Are you happy?” Regin asked, next.

“...I doubt that anyone in the world right now is happy,” Sigrun said, after a moment.

that’s not an answer, Sig

I am a widow before he’s even died.

your wife will be your widow ere you meet her again

Amaterasu began to glow, releasing some of her tightly-controlled power, letting the light radiate out from her. Did you think me weaponless? I come armed with truth in one hand and courage in the other. Did you think me powerless? I am the highest goddess of my people, however scattered they might be.

I choose to believe the badass lines are Minori’s influence.

The Roman goddess remained frozen in place, as all the aching parts of her essence opened up to the phoenix. Felt the love and generosity and empathy of Lassair, and tears began to form in her eyes. She was held captive, enthralled, to someone who held a mirror up to her own heart. Only Lassair’s mirror was not truth, but understanding.

as lassair just fixes a broken goddess, nbd

Her flesh dissolved, and Minori ascended, letting her light join with Kanmi’s. Emotions, thoughts, and power, braiding through each other’s essence. Glorying in each other, and flowing into and through each other. And then they spread out through the city...and got back to work.

Trennus is the only one who hasn’t properly ascended, chop chop Matrugena

Every union between Hades and Persephone had been rape.

This reading of the myth makes sense here bc the Hellene gods are notably insane, violent and unhinged, but it still makes me tired

You do not frighten me, lord of the dead. You are...refreshingly upfront about who and what you are.

This is the newly-widowed Juno to Pluto, and I am probably thinking about it too much when I draw parallels to Adam and Sigrun. (If Sig had been upfront about what was happening, would Adam have been less of a tool? (Unlikely.) If Adam had been treated badly by a former lover, would he have appreciated Sigrun even as a death goddess?)

Hestia had rarely ventured out into the world, other than to curl up in people’s hearth fires, and listen to the words they spoke around her.

that sounds cozy as fuck

Orcus has raped and slain Hestia. She is dead. And I am alone.

Was the rape necessary? Was that a plot point we needed?

“You catch his name?”

“Ehecatl.”

“Named after one of Quetzalcoatl’s aspects. Hah. Probably thought he was a god, too.”

you just admitted you should have listened to him and gotten out before your wife and son were sacrificed, you don’t get to make fun of his name

Loki kept Sigrun from having children to avoid attachments during Ragnarok . . . and this certainly feels like Ragnarok...

(Reginleif just laid an egg.) If Sig had a kid it would have taken her four times as long to eat the fucking apple

What right do I have to judge? He is what I am, writ large. A memory returned to her, unbidden. Freya telling her to control her image, or belief would shape her...as Pluto had, obviously, been shaped.

oh NOW you wanna listen to Freya, when you’re faced with the possibility of being turned into worms.

A birth to a barren mother and a father who is death incarnate, neither of whom could ever have hoped for this, in all the long years of their existence?

🤔

It is good of you to join us at last, little one. I did not know I would ever have always had you.

the fucking Veil

“There have been attacks on the nuclear plants. Persian rockets, mostly. Erida put up a smaller version of the city-wide shield around them. It would be bad if the plants exploded.” [..]

Sigrun froze, in mild horror. “I did not know about that,” she admitted.

Adam turned and gave her a long look. “No,” he told her. “No, you didn’t.”

I HATE saying this, because I know how important Judea is in the long run, but her concerns run a little bit more global now, Adam, so maybe fuck off with the guilt trips.

I just turned eighty-nine, you realize? Compared to all of the gods... she glanced down at Nith, and amended, Compared to all of you...I am an infant.

We are all as old as we think we are.

Age is just a number, especially if you don’t want to see yourself turn to dust after 130 years.

as if someone had jammed a live and panicking tiger into her head

🎶you can’t drive around with a tiger in your car🎶

He’d tell her that her retainer, the dragon, yearned for her embrace. And that the dragon was considering killing her mortal husband, whom she so cherished. In the mood in which the dragon now appeared to be? The mortal child of the northern gods would surely believe him.

they made the pazuzu the gate-guard of sigrun’s realm rather than just banishing him to come back over and over. he is very resentful and also very stupid.

Truthsense caught at her, and she realized, suddenly, what the creature was trying to do. You employ divide and conquer tactics? Here?

The pazuzu is VERY stupid.

Mageslayer was apparently his squad-name.

It’s a cool name, okay. Maccis is far to young to have had to earn it, but it’s a cool name.

“Does the JDF even have that in their manual anywhere? ‘This is how you accept surrender from a Persian. Please do not actually shoot them.’”

instructions unclear, bullet stuck in persian

Wild-heart?

Yes, dear one?

Would you like to have another child?

see, THAT’S how you do that, lassair

We can fix up a nursery, pretend that we don’t know Aunt Lassair at all, and go to doctor appointments, and all the things that normal people do.

I feel like most people try to pretend they don’t know lassair in these instances

The valkyrie will know.

The valkyrie is an unbeliever and a foreigner. She may choose not to care.

Sigrun turned five centaurs into jelly when they hurt Sophia, the fuck chance do you think you have? (This is also Sophia’s broken prophecy but also fuck this nurse in particular)

Why, it’s me, my own, said a male voice, like sun-warmed honey.

fuuuuuuuuuck yooooooooou

And when the instructor’s back was turned, Sophia picked up a pair of shears.

not that anyone in this hospital has shown an ounce of competence, but why in fuck would you turn your back on a sharp object in a psych ward

They were sharp. And they would do very nicely what they were designed to do. I put on my boots, she thought. I remember that. I didn’t remember doing it before, but I did it anyway...

Sophia Deserved Better

And the question came to mind in Kanmi’s voice: ‘So, did you have an incestuous circle-jerk with your uncle-father and your uncle-uncle, for the purposes of producing offspring?’

kanmi is always with you

For a married woman to tell that sort of joke to someone other than her husband seemed a little beyond the pale to her

if being married means giving up dirty jokes I’m never doing it

Pluto’s worms changed course, humming through the air like a swarm of bees.

HELLO, BEES

Primitive people had once believed that malefic spirits could be summoned by writing the Name of a god backwards.

Mxyzptlk

and suddenly, he had Toutatis’ complete attention.

This stupid motherfucker is trying to unName a god, while it is fighting a mad godling, right over his fucking head.

Oh, come, this is hardly the first time I’ve been inside of you. Though the first time so publically, yes.

zhi this is not the time

Sophia smiled, almost giddy. “My answer? My choice?” She paused, savoring it. “I say fuck you, Apollo of Delphi. I die free.”

The look of comic shock on his face warmed her heart, and and gave her almost a full second to get her hand up, sharpened metal in hand, and stab herself in the throat.

Sophia is more badass than you. And she deserved better.

Apollo of Delphi had exactly enough time to turn. For his eyes to widen. And then the shadow behind him materialized fully, and the spear that wasn’t really a spear anymore, so much as an expression of the will of a death-goddess...lashed out.

Apollo deserved worse.

She looked up at Nith, her lashes rimed with ice. Nith, what good is being what I am, if I can’t protect the ones I love? If I can’t save them?

I do not have an answer for that, Nith told her, and spread his wings over her. I think you did everything you could to save her. But I also think that she made the choices that she made. And that she died a death that she chose. Surely, that counts for something.

hi I’m crying over a book at 3 am

She signed the hospital’s statement that they were not liable for Sophia’s death.

I mean they’re not not liable

“So . . . Apollo killed her?”

“I think she killed herself to escape him.”

Adam felt his soul contract, just a little. Suicide was forbidden in his culture. A defiance of god, the destruction of god’s handiwork, the desecration of his god’s greatest gift, which was life. “Her despair finally won, then,” he said, quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Nith raised his head, and Adam’s own jaw ached, seeing the damage to the dragon’s face. And for the first time, the dragon spoke, with quiet force. I disagree. I heard her words, Stormborn. She said that she died free. The moonfire eyes glowed in the dim room. Surviving for as long as she did? Every day was a victory against Apollo. And her escape, at the end? Her greatest moment of triumph. The dragon pulled himself to his feet, the raw edges of his wounds looking faintly puckered as he healed. I do not tell you not to mourn, my lady. But I believe that she went to her death with joy in her heart, as a captive finally released from prison. And you avenged her death, though there is no punishment dark enough for the ruin that was made of her life.

Nith understands, probably better than anyone else could.

Adam shook his head. “Your people greeted death with orgies and beer.”

there are worse ways to grieve

If there were a king somewhere, Nith said, delicately, a leader whom men would follow into battle, who had been rendered unable to lead, by injury, disease, or age, and if his people brought to him a chalice, a cauldron, or a goddess, and told him Here is your cure, I would think that he would enter into that union. Would restore himself, his lands, and his people. Nith’s tone was weary now. What happens in the tale, when the king pushes aside the cup that is his salvation?

yeah, ADAM, what happens then, ADAM

(I do not agree that Adam should be leading anything but I see where Nith is trying to go)

And while I would like to put her ashes in the ground under the apple tree, Judean law is fairly strict about that.

fuck ‘em. what are they gonna do, arrest you?

You would not believe me even if I told you. Loki’s fox-like grin came and went as he stood, and began to measure out the room with his strides.

I believe the human phrase is ‘try me,’ young trickster.

I enjoy Prometheus

I cursed Sigrun Stormborn. To ensure that she would be ready to fight, as a valkyrie, without reservation. That curse is, incidentally, in abeyance. Loki paused, looking at Sigrun, but she didn’t react. In truth, she didn’t know what to think, or feel about that statement. It seemed trivial; beside the point.

no sigrun pay attention. take notes.

And then a voice in those pre-memories spoke to me, Loki said, quietly. And told me not to fear. That there was a plan.

In my many re-reads, I usually don't get this far, because these books are very long. But getting here now, and actually paying attention for shittalking purposes, my theory is that the mysterious lady-voice is either the God of Abraham or future-Sigrun. Though the God of Abraham has to feature eventually, there’s been too much made of their silence.

And what does gender mean to any of us? Loki asked, with a shrug.

mood

Yes, Embersoul,

oh, Kanmi’s Name changed when he ascended

This is better than Dvalin’s Archives, she told Kanmi. Don’t tell him I said so, though. Ah, blackmail material. Excellent.

kanmi don’t blackmail other gods

I need a Zaya to help me organize this place properly.

just use the existing zaya

Oh, so I’m your responsibility, am I? Certainly. We try to bring our riders home safely. That’s the job. Rig could hear, under the sarcasm, a surprising amount of personal loyalty. And wondered how much of it was the damned dreams, and how much of it was real.

dreams are real, rig

If an amorphous ball of negative energy could be said to regard anything, it seemed to be studying the magus.

fondly regard magus

He could feel the sword devouring the godling from the inside out,

craven edge

Rig was still somehow breathing,

he ate a godling, he’s a god now, I don’t make the rules

#edda-earth #saga of edda-earth #reaction post #liveblog #there's only three chapters left but HOO BOY

[denimbex1986]

'It is possible that somewhere, in a parallel universe, Cillian Murphy was Batman. The 47-year-old Irish actor auditioned for the role when the British director Christopher Nolan was casting Batman Begins, the 2005 film that would become the first in the Dark Knight trilogy. In this universe, however, Murphy lost out to Christian Bale.

The batsuit, he likes to admit, in typically self-deprecating style, was on the roomy side anyway, and he was instead offered the part of baby-faced villain Jonathan “Scarecrow” Crane. But not to worry. A couple of decades later, it seems that Nolan – and perhaps the cosmos itself – had bigger plans.

On 21 July, Oppenheimer, which Nolan directed and wrote, was released in cinemas around the world. Adapted from Kai Bird and Martin J Sherwin’s Pulitzer prize-winning biography, American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J Robert Oppenheimer, it is the story of the brilliant American theoretical physicist who oversaw the development of the atomic bomb during the second world war, and would later be haunted by the unfathomable devastation it caused to the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945.

This time, when Nolan came to recruiting his lead, there would be no audition. “Chris will just call you up,” Murphy told me in late 2021 for a profile in Esquire, when his casting as Oppenheimer had just been announced, “and I always say yes, because they’re always amazing.”

It is not hard to see why Nolan, who has kept Murphy close over the years – having him appear in all three instalments of the Dark Knight trilogy, as well as key supporting roles in two later films, Inception and Dunkirk – wanted him to take centre stage this time. Not only does Murphy have a physical resemblance to Oppenheimer – the slight stature (made slighter, apparently, by a restricted diet), the high cheekbones, the arresting stare – but it is exactly the kind of character he likes to play.

“I’ve always been interested in stuff that is – I don’t want to say on the dark side, because that’s too reductive – the melancholic, or the ambiguous, or the more transgressive,” he told me in 2021. “That, to me, is drama. That is where the real stuff is to be mined.”

Nolan’s film, which is three hours long, certainly does some digging. Through richly coloured flashbacks, we watch Oppenheimer’s recollections of his academic career, crunching theories with Tom Conti’s Albert Einstein and Kenneth Branagh’s Niels Bohr; his complicated love life (to put it mildly) with lover Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh) and wife Kitty (Emily Blunt); and his time overseeing the secret laboratory in Los Alamos, in the middle of the desert in New Mexico, where the bomb was developed.

Interspersed are staid black-and-white scenes, mostly from the notorious 1954 hearings instigated by US Atomic Energy Commission chairman Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr), at which Oppenheimer’s life and reputation – particularly regarding his associations with the Communist party – are pulled apart.

Other than one staggering sequence depicting Trinity, the code name for the first nuclear bomb test in New Mexico’s Jornada del Muerto desert in 1945 (for a few terrible seconds, the entire screen roils with hellfire), Oppenheimer is not what one might call a “typical” Nolan film. There are no high-concept sci-fi action sequences, no elaborately choreographed scenes of warfare (the effects of the bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima are suggested but not shown, already generating some critical debate).

What there is is Cillian Murphy: the stark planes of his face; his otherworldly blue eyes, conveying glacial deadness in one frame and cosmic awe in another; and his performance, which is meticulous, understated, and seems to rage from his very core.

For someone who turned out to be rather good at acting (putting it mildly again), it is curious that it was only through a random sequence of events that Murphy found his calling at all. The eldest of four children, his parents were both teachers – when he was cast in the Dark Knight films, the kids at his mother’s school nicknamed her “Batmam” – and the family lived in Ballintemple, County Cork.

His first love was music, as listeners of his occasional shows for BBC Radio 6 Music will be aware, and the band he formed with school friends, Sons of Mr Green Genes, the name inspired by a Frank Zappa song, went on to have some success: they were offered a record contract just as Murphy was failing the first year of a law degree that his parents had prodded him to take.

Around the same time, inspired by a drama module run at his school by renowned local theatre group Corcadorca, Murphy auditioned for their production of Disco Pigs, a new play by the young Irish playwright Enda Walsh. In August 1996, Sons of Mr Green Genes turned down the record deal (his parents felt his brother, Páidi, who was also in the band, was too young), and Murphy got the part. That same fateful summer, he also met artist Yvonne McGuinness; the couple, who married in 2004, have two teenage sons and live in a quiet Dublin suburb by the sea.

Murphy went on to star in films including Danny Boyle’s 2002 zombie movie 28 Days Later (the role with which he first caught Nolan’s eye), Neil Jordan’s Breakfast on Pluto (2005) and Ken Loach’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley (2006), as well as several critically acclaimed plays. However, it was a television gig – Steven Knight’s gritty and glossy BBC drama Peaky Blinders in which, for six series, concluding last year, Murphy played Tommy Shelby, the brutal, tormented leader of a Birmingham criminal dynasty in the interwar years – that made him a global star. (In 2021, it was ranked as the most searched-for Netflix show in the world.)

The attention that has come with his work – particularly Peaky Blinders, which spawned drastic haircuts, retro menswear trends, and all kinds of spicy fanfiction – has taken some getting used to. Murphy is almost pathologically self-effacing and low-key, and will be the first to describe, amusingly, the ways in which he is ill-equipped to deal with the bits about being an actor that aren’t acting: how torturous it is to sit in the green room before a TV chat show, watching the preceding guests dazzle the host with pre-prepared anecdotes, knowing that when it’s his turn he’ll be taciturn and monotone. Not that you can tell; Murphy exudes a calm, sphinx-like presence.

He will soon have to prepare for more sweaty-palmed green room waits. As the Oppenheimer reviews have come in, so, too, have the Oscar predictions. Despite the calibre of his career, and various wins and nominations of other kinds, Murphy has never had an Academy Award nod; now, there is a rumbling consensus that this could be his time. (Nolan, who has in past years received five nominations for best screenplay, director or picture, but won none of them, may also secretly be getting his hopes up.)

But whatever happens come awards season – and however Murphy may feel about it when it does – it seems that the cosmic gears are already in motion, and that a new stratospheric phase of his career has begun.'

#Cillian Murphy #Christopher Nolan #Oppenheimer #Batman Begins #The Dark Knight Trilogy #American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer #Kai Bird #Martin J. Sherwin #Jonathan “Scarecrow” Crane #Dunkirk #Tom Conti #Albert Einstein #Kenneth Branagh #Niels Bohr #Lewis Strauss #Robert Downey Jr. #Kitty #Emily Blunt #Florence Pugh #Jean Tatlock #BBC Radio 6 Music #The Sons of Mr. Green Genes #Corcadorca #Disco Pigs #Enda Walsh #Yvonne McGuinness #Danny Boyle #28 Days Later #Breakfast on Pluto #Neil Jordan

[imkindaintopans]

HIRAETH CHAPTER 1

i’ll be honest, this is just a random idea while reading mark of athena.

so here i am, writing an au fanfiction series in the percy jackson universe. May Uncle Rick bless thee fanfic and you too! hope you like it.

bunch of ocs, like a bunch 

-procrastinating author

summary (without spoiling): An introduction to one of our ocs... that’s it. I’m sorry I really can’t say anything more for now, forgive me readers

pairing: percy jackson x oc

warnings: my 1st fanfiction here and also some angsty stuff (ex. cheating, greek stuffs and a bit of death? can’t spoil sorry.)

series: prophecy (advices to read this before proceeding)

I.

Earth’s Son

G E O

He closes his eyes shut. Trying to ignore the noises around him, Geo hid behind a pillar. He was getting tired of the celebration repeated every day. Humans, offering the food they farmed themselves, the water they stored for the heat and the money they need, only to prove their existence on the temples they built on their own. Praying and kneeling to stones. It was pitiful.

‘The Light has shone to the Gods!’

He can’t help but to chuckle at the mortal praises. Really, it is ridiculous. “What are you smiling at, Uncle?” A sudden messenger popped beside him. Geo only glared, “Stop calling me your uncle, Hermes.”

The young god smiled in return. “But you are my father’s brother, Uncle Geo.”

He peeked at the worshipper below them, “I thought you don’t like attending such parties.” Geo sighed as he started walking away, Hermes immediately followed after him. “Where are you going now?”

“Away.”

“Why?”

Geo stopped. He stared at the boy that’s tailing him. Hermes only stared back out of confusion, before realizing the answer after a minute, “I-Is it... B-Because of me?” His voice sadly shrunken as he ceased following Geo.

Geo, being guilted by the sudden pouting, shook his head slowly. “No. It’s not because of you- Well. Not because of ONLY you.”

“I don’t get it.”

“... Since you’re here, that means that Zeus will follow next, am I right? Or Is he here already?”

“Zeus? Yes, Father will-“ Hermes looked at Geo with eyes widening, “Oh. I forgot. You two are still in quarrel.”

Nodding once, Geo continued to leave.

He recalled what happened the last time he saw the God of the Sky,

"Punishing him was unnecessary." His eyes finally looked directly to the figure in of him, “N-No. Punishing him with this- It’s... This is isn’t right.”

Zeus responded as he stood, he was always taller than Geo- a physique he always feared. "You are right. Perhaps it is too merciful. Maybe changing-" 

"Did you even hear me?" Geo snapped. "I said this isn’t right! That means that you’re- You’re not right. Prometheus gave them fire. Fire! I cannot understand why-" He stopped, trying to form his thoughts. Humanity is a painting, nothing but a picture being trapped in a canvas. Displayed only to be looked at and to be waited until it rot and be faded for so long. 

Though it troubled him to see these petty beings being played at. He isn't one to involve himself in their matters. Geo never cared for paintings, that was meant for another God's talent not his. 

He handed to himself his truth- That these creatures weren't the painters. They do not hold the brush to their end. Even to their minds, they cannot comprehend that they are only created, only to be used to fill in desires. A pitiful and lifeless portrait, 

... Yet they always appear to be moving.

Perhaps these characters are reaching to escape their frames, trying to continue the masterpiece themselves. Quite rather rebellious choices from them, he would say. But still-

Is it wrong that Geo admired that about them?

Maybe...

"Prometheus can seek foresight and avoid this future." Maybe a different point of view will give him an answer. 

"Yet challenging the fates, he took that risk and still helped them. Isn't that enough to convince you? Let humankind grow on their own, they weren't created to only obey your enjoyment. Why give them life if you'll only strangle them out of it?" Despite backing away for a second, he regained composure. He stared back to the God, only to be met by an amused smile. It irked him. 

This is a god. Specifically one that shared a part of himself as they both have the same mother- 

Mother. What a word. 

It disgusts him, having to carry the fact that he's one of... These 'Gods'. These so-called figures, hollow pieces of marbles and stones that present images of perfection that lies are full of disappointment. These charlatans of faith. 

"My brother, you seem too inclined with the mortals. Perhaps you want to follow the Titan's footsteps and accompany him into enchainment."

The air around them became colder. Geo felt it again, that fear. He was looking up to the God in front of him. He tensed up, hiding his attempt to gulp as he stopped himself from saying anymore. 

He caught his reflection on a silver platter in front of him. It was placed on a long table, surrounded by feast of foods yet it had nothing upon it. It was just a used dirty, silver plate. Showing a murky face too familiar of his, 

He had enough. The realization struck him. He wasn't one of them, he never was and he never will be. He didn't want to waste his purpose to walk behind these false gods. He is his own. Not anyone's. 

Trying to fight the coldness, he closed his eyes. Silently breathes. He can’t do anything for now, and he shouldn’t. Throwing more words to this argument isn’t worth of his time. He calmly bowed his head and apologizes to Zeus, something that he knows is too forced to be even accepted.

“I apologize for raising my voice.”

He heard the God’s obnoxious laugh. He waited it to subside only to listen to his gritted farewell, “How funny, you are- It seems that the mind of yours is getting thicker. You should stop its growth before it gets over your head... Be careful next time, brother.”

Bullshit. If he could, he could just-

“Uncle!”

Geo stopped his tracks to meet the panting Hermes. “Hermes. Didn’t I told you to stop calling me-”

“Uncle. Yeah, I k-know. Could you just wait? I want to go with you.”

Raising an eyebrow, he turned his attention. “Don’t you rather stay with the celebration? They might miss you.”

The young messenger gasped dramatically, “No way! I only came here because Art told me that you’re here, Uncle- Geo. I meant. Also... It’s getting boring staying there. Mortals keep shouting that ‘The Light has shone to the Gods!’, when they’re only blocking the sun and standing too picturesque to look good.”

Following his bit long complaining, “Pfft.” Geo let out a subtle laugh. Surprised, Hermes only smiled at his uncle.

“Fine... Come with me. But please avoid talking too much, it getting more annoying lately.” He walked first.

“Of course!” He ran after, “Have I already told you about what happened to Daphne? I heard Apollo tried to court her again.”

“... No. What happened?”

“He deserved it. Daphne punched him. Really, really hard...”

Geo only nod along. Despite the stubbornness, he still can’t help but to listen to his nephew.

He woke up.

Stumbling, he got up. He could feel the grass around him. His eyesight is still blurry, but there isn’t any injury he could that could have caused. Maybe he’s just dizzy. He closes his eyes to regain something, though it lays no importance.

Geo knew that Zeus would never kill him, even after what he did, he couldn't. That bastard still has some mercy left for the young titan.

He ordered for him to be forgotten, he is no longer their brother or a god, not that he was in the first place. His name shall not be mentioned as well, even to the smallest temple or prayer. Could you imagine what would happen if he did something worse? What if he completely destroyed his statue- That'd be fun. Why didn't he think of that?

He laughed as he opened his eyes. He was somewhat regretting this decision. Was he too radical in his actions? Yes. Yes he was.

The Gods gave him a chance to live- a normal and quiet life ‘underneath’ Olympus. He smiled at the thought, "Is this what you want, Mother?"

“Aren’t I lucky?” He stared. There’s a cliff. Dark and rocky, “I could jump there if you just signed so."

After completing his staring contest with the peddle beside his foot, he leaned to the nearest tree to watch the scenery in front of him. Across the cliff, a bunch of trees and meadows waved back at him. It was peaceful,

Hermes's right. This world is quite strange.

If he could see him now, he surely would make fun of him being too sentimental.

... Will he visit me one day? How long will I wait?

I’m afraid that I am destined to stay here. Alone.

For I cannot leave Earth... As I am her Son.

#percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of the olympus #pjoau #au #fanfic #gaea #greek myth au #greek mythology #greek mythology fanfiction #green #geo #series #percy jackson series #hiraeth #chapterone #chapter1 #hermis #zeus #fandom au #randomau #oc #percy jackson x oc #prometheus #pjo series #daphne x apollo #daphne #apollo #artemis

[lightdancer1]

Another small bit of original fiction:

Gaudy, isn't it?

The man that looked at them had a wry grin, his right eye seeming a little too red, almost mechanical even if the rest of him wasn't.

The whole light show. Everyone sees a glimpse of what walks among you. The sky rolls up like a scroll and upon a white horse divinity descends and with words like swords all, small and big, alike are consumed. Well, really, that's our own scriptures, those of us that are men, anyway, who claim them would speak thus. Gods, or what you'd call gods, we have our own.

The man's dark skin seemed to swim for a moment with silver that appeared and gave him the appearance of a metal giant, the chair he was sitting on breaking beneath the weight as he stood up.

Oh the rest of it, that doesn't scare you. Eldritch things from beyond the stars being real, the implications for religion, none of that does. I'll tell you what does.

In that moment the man became a giant, a figure twenty-five feet tall, the human form raised to something out of myth more than reality, skin just as dark and his clothes growing in size with him.

It's me. You see, gentlemen, the entire reason I allowed all of this....

He looked around him.

Is a very simple reason. My world changed, in the beginning, when the Soul and Messenger lay with the daughters of men and birthed magic, and then again when the sky fell and the blue fire brought the power of Prometheus to all of us. We overthrew our oppressors, gifted with the fires of the gods. And then something else came, a monster, this towering imposing giant in dark green armor. So I fed it a black hole and it didn't like that very much. And from making a monster that eats entire universes bleed and destroying one of its incarnations while a man, a true man, I rose into those ranks.

The dark skin became its truer shape, intertwined flesh and metal as turrets rose from his shoulder.

I was given the power of a god, the power to walk between worlds. And so many worlds are tilted against those that look like me. It took me no time at all from ascendancy to walk the pages of infinity, to seek to undo things, to make the multiverse less ghastly. How could I not?

The men that looked at him, smelling like the sewage-ridden age they were, an age when handwashing was unfashionable, men who'd made money by great evil.

Of course simply doing things like this is only the start. The real meat is to undo the very things that made it desirable, but not in a way where they would credit some divine figure fall from Heaven doing it. All that does is make a new religion and a new master, a new god, great and terrible. A Man of Iron, instead of an End of Empire.

The turrets fired great blasts of fire intermixed with spheres and he shook his head.

But that, that never gets old.

And then he stepped from the inferno, one of many like it, looking at something on his right wrist.

North America finished, now for the South, and then the rest. His nose twitched, as he looked beyond him at the unlovely elements of the past. The Hammer of Doom had uplifted him but it had been he, empowered by the way these beings crossed through time and space, and by all else, who had wrought the vision to make Existence that much less miserable.

His lips parted with a grin as his right eye shone.

One more world, and then so many more to go.

#omniverse tales #the end of empire #the man of iron

[richarddoi]

Fan Fiction: the Master Chief vs the Aliens

I. Introduction

The UNSC warship "Infinity" hung suspended in the void of space, a solitary guardian of the distant frontier. It had been weeks since the last sign of humanity or any known colony. There was no galaxy-spanning war to wage, no Covenant fleet to fend off. It was a time of uneasy peace, and the crew found themselves in the vast, uncharted depths of the cosmos, feeling more alone than ever before.

Captain Lasky paced the bridge, his brow furrowed as he examined the sensor readouts. He was a veteran of countless battles, having served alongside Master Chief during the war with the Covenant. But this... this was different. There were no enemies in sight, no battle formations to analyze, just an eerie silence.

"Captain," the chief communications officer said, her voice tight with apprehension, "We've received a distress signal. It's faint, but it's there."

Captain Lasky stared at the officer, a mixture of dread and curiosity in his eyes. A distress signal out here, in the middle of nowhere, was nothing short of a mystery. There were no known colonies for light-years, and the slipstream portals were far from this desolate stretch of space.

"Patch it through," he ordered, and the officer quickly complied.

The message was distorted, plagued by static and interference, but one thing was clear: it was a call for help. Desperation rang in the voice, an unfamiliar accent blending with the universal language of distress.

Lasky leaned in, straining to hear. "This is Captain Andrew Lasky of the UNSC Infinity. Please identify yourself."

More static, then a faint voice crackled through. "This is Dr. Isabella Rodriguez of the USCSS Prometheus. We need immediate assistance. We've encountered... something. Something beyond our understanding. Please, you have to help us."

Lasky exchanged a worried glance with the bridge crew. The USCSS Prometheus was an unregistered vessel, likely a research ship, and it was clear from Dr. Rodriguez's voice that they were in dire straits.

"Prepare a message for Master Chief," he instructed. "Tell him to assemble a team, and they're heading for that distress signal. We don't know what they're up against, but they'll need to be ready for anything."

Within minutes, the message was sent, and Master Chief, clad in his iconic MJOLNIR armor, stood in the briefing room, studying the holographic projection of the mysterious ship. He knew that a distress signal from an uncharted vessel in the middle of nowhere was a dangerous unknown, and he was the UNSC's best hope for unraveling the mystery.

Lasky paced the room, his tone grave. "We don't know what you'll find on that ship, Chief. The situation could be hostile, or it could be something far more insidious. Proceed with caution and make contact with Dr. Rodriguez if possible. Your mission is to assess the situation and render assistance if needed."

Master Chief nodded, his helmet concealing any hint of emotion. He'd faced unimaginable odds before, but this mission was different. There was an unease in the air, a foreboding that hung over the crew of the Infinity like a shroud. As he turned and left the briefing room, he couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would be unlike any he had ever undertaken.

II. Boarding the Unknown Ship

Tension was palpable as the UNSC Infinity made contact with the mysterious vessel. The cold, distant stars cast an indifferent light on the two ships, floating in the vast emptiness of space. The airlock of the Infinity docked with the unknown ship, and Master Chief and his team stood ready, their armored boots clanging against the metallic floor.

Inside the ship, the Spartan team's HUDs illuminated the dark and damaged corridors. Eerie silence pervaded, their every breath amplified by the helmets. Wreckage and signs of struggle were everywhere, as if a violent chaos had swept through the vessel. A feeling of dread settled over the Spartans, making their mission even more ominous.

As they moved deeper into the ship, they stumbled upon sealed chambers filled with eerie, translucent pods. It was a sight that sent shivers down their spines, even for battle-hardened soldiers like them. Slowly, they approached the pods, and through the distorted, semi-transparent surfaces, they saw the unmistakable form of Facehuggers inside, attached to what appeared to be long-dead human hosts.

Master Chief's voice crackled over the COM channel, "We've got evidence of xenomorphs. Proceed with extreme caution."

Each pod served as a chilling testament to the horrors that had transpired on this forsaken vessel. The team continued onward, their keen eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of the xenomorph threat. In the dimly lit corridors, they discovered murals and hieroglyphics, a testament to a civilization or culture entirely alien to anything they had ever seen.

In their relentless search for answers, the Spartans found themselves in a chamber that could only be described as a nightmare. The walls seemed to pulsate with an organic, otherworldly texture, and eerie, glowing eggs hung from the ceiling. The alien hive was unmistakable.

With a guttural hiss, the first Xenomorph sprung from the shadows. Its biomechanical form, a terrifying fusion of organic and synthetic elements, advanced with startling speed and lethality. The Spartan team opened fire, and a fierce battle erupted in the claustrophobic chamber. Bullets and plasma fire filled the air, and the echoing clang of combat reverberated through the metallic corridors.

The Xenomorphs proved to be a deadly adversary, their acid blood posing an additional threat. As the Spartans fought for their lives, they quickly realized that conventional tactics and weapons might not be enough to conquer these formidable foes. It was a fight for survival against a relentless and merciless enemy, and it was only the beginning of their encounter with the unknown horrors that lurked within the ship.

III. The Survivors

The battle against the Xenomorphs was brutal, and the Spartan team fought valiantly. However, they paid a heavy price. Several of their comrades fell in the initial encounter, overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of the alien onslaught. The survivors were left battered and shaken, their numbers reduced to a mere handful.

As Master Chief and the remaining Spartans retreated through the dark, winding corridors, the clattering of Xenomorph claws echoed ominously behind them. The team's path was littered with the evidence of their lost comrades, a painful reminder of the cost of their mission.

Finally, they reached a momentary respite, barricading themselves in a sealed chamber. The tension inside the room was palpable as they assessed their situation. Master Chief's visor displayed vital statistics, confirming the severity of their injuries and ammunition reserves.

Grim determination marked the faces of the survivors. Master Chief turned to Kelly, one of the few remaining Spartans, and said, "Kelly, status report."

Kelly, clad in her battered MJOLNIR armor, reported on their remaining supplies and the grim fact that they were cut off from their extraction point due to Xenomorph infestations. Their situation was dire.

In a quiet corner of the room, Linda, another surviving Spartan, examined the ship's log they had recovered during their encounter with the Xenomorphs. The log contained disturbing entries and video recordings detailing the vessel's ill-fated mission to study the Xenomorphs. It became clear that the research had gone terribly wrong, leading to a catastrophic outbreak.

A sense of urgency washed over the survivors as they realized the gravity of their situation. The Xenomorphs were not only a deadly foe; they were a menace that could potentially spread to other parts of the universe if left unchecked.

The decision weighed heavily on Master Chief. They had to destroy the ship to prevent the Xenomorphs from escaping and infecting other worlds. But their immediate priority was to find a way to reach the extraction point and get back to the UNSC Infinity. They couldn't afford to let the Xenomorphs reach the galaxy at large.

With a heavy heart, Master Chief ordered the survivors to regroup and formulate a plan to escape the clutches of this alien nightmare.

In the dimly lit chamber, the remaining Spartans faced the grim reality of their situation. Their comrades had fallen, and their mission had taken an unexpected and deadly turn. Now, they had to find a way to contain the Xenomorph threat and escape the clutches of this forsaken ship.

IV. Formulating a Plan

The survivors gathered around Master Chief, their armor battered and stained with the remnants of the battle. The weight of their fallen comrades pressed upon them, a reminder of the price they had paid to reach this point. There was no room for despair; they had to find a way to navigate this treacherous situation.

Master Chief's voice rang out, a pillar of unwavering resolve in the midst of uncertainty. "Our priority is to ensure that these Xenomorphs don't leave this ship. The risk to the galaxy is too great. We must set charges to destroy the vessel."

Kelly nodded in agreement, her voice steady. "You're right, Chief. But we need to reach the ship's core to do that. It won't be easy. We've got Xenomorphs between us and the heart of this nightmare."

Master Chief knew that they would need a plan, and it had to be executed flawlessly. The team started reviewing the ship's layout, taking into account their limited resources, and strategizing how to reach the core. Every detail was analyzed, every potential threat considered.

Just as they were deep into their planning, a sudden noise at the chamber's entrance caught their attention. Master Chief and his team readied their weapons, unsure of what might be approaching. To their surprise, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving cautiously into the room.

It was Ellen Ripley, a woman who had seen her share of horrors at the hands of Xenomorphs. She was the sole survivor of the research crew that had unwittingly unleashed this terror upon the ship. Her face was etched with exhaustion, her eyes a mix of fear and determination.

Ripley's voice was tired but resolute as she introduced herself. "I've been hiding, trying to stay one step ahead of those things. My crew... they're all gone. It's up to us now."

Master Chief and Ripley exchanged a long, assessing glance, recognizing a shared sense of purpose and understanding that transcended the gulf of their different worlds and experiences. They had all faced the terrors of the unknown, and they knew that they couldn't allow the Xenomorphs to reach the UNSC or humanity at large.

Ripley's knowledge of the ship's layout and the Xenomorphs' behavior proved invaluable, and they quickly integrated her insights into their plan. Her experience with the Xenomorphs had taught her to adapt, survive, and fight, skills that would be indispensable in the coming hours.

The uneasy alliance between the Spartans and Ripley was forged by the necessity of their mission. Together, they represented the last hope of preventing a cataclysmic Xenomorph infestation, a threat that could potentially eclipse any other they had faced.

As Master Chief and Ripley shared their experiences and knowledge, they knew that their fates were now inexorably intertwined, and their combined resolve would be tested in the crucible of the unknown horrors that awaited them within the heart of the ship.

V. Final Showdown

The survivors embarked on their perilous journey through the winding corridors of the alien ship, guided by Ripley's invaluable insights. Their weapons were primed, senses alert, and hearts pounding with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

The Xenomorphs were relentless in their pursuit, lurking in the shadows and striking with deadly precision. The surviving Spartans fought with every ounce of their formidable training and skill, but it was clear that this was no ordinary battle. The Xenomorphs were a uniquely vicious adversary.

As they moved deeper into the ship, the confrontation escalated, reaching its climax in a massive chamber that seemed to serve as the hive's epicenter. The walls pulsated with grotesque organic growths, and eerie, glowing eggs hung from the ceiling. The Xenomorph Queen, a towering and nightmarish monstrosity, awaited them.

The battle that ensued was a symphony of chaos and carnage. Weapons flashed, acid blood splattered, and the echoes of combat reverberated through the hive. The survivors used their remaining explosives strategically, setting traps and making every shot count. Ripley, who had faced Xenomorphs before, demonstrated an uncanny ability to anticipate their movements and weaknesses, making her a crucial asset.

Master Chief, with his superhuman reflexes and indomitable spirit, emerged as a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. His leadership and unwavering determination rallied the survivors and gave them the strength to push forward.

In the midst of the furious battle, the Xenomorph Queen, a colossal and terrifying foe, revealed herself. Her hisses and screeches filled the chamber as she engaged the team. It was a battle that pushed them to their limits, a desperate fight for survival.

Explosions rocked the chamber, and the Xenomorph Queen was gravely wounded, her acidic blood spewing in all directions. In a final, desperate act, she lunged at Master Chief, who barely managed to evade her deadly strike. With a precise shot to a vulnerable area, he delivered the finishing blow, and the Xenomorph Queen let out a bone-chilling death cry.

As her lifeless form collapsed to the ground, the surviving Spartans and Ripley shared a moment of exhaustion, relief, and grim satisfaction. The heart of the Xenomorph threat had been extinguished, but the ship still held secrets and potential horrors.

Now, the survivors had to escape the alien vessel and fulfill their mission to ensure the Xenomorph menace would not spread. But the final showdown had left them battered and wounded, their ammunition nearly depleted, and their spirits tested to the limit. The Xenomorphs had proved to be an adversary unlike any other, and the survivors knew that their journey was far from over.

VI. Conclusion

The aftermath of the final showdown was marked by an eerie calm. The Xenomorph Queen lay dead, her once-terrifying presence extinguished, but the chambers around them were a testament to the horror they had faced. Acid-scarred walls and the remnants of the battle bore witness to the desperate struggle.

The survivors, battered and weary, gathered around the fallen Xenomorph Queen, their expressions a mix of exhaustion, relief, and grim satisfaction. Master Chief, ever the embodiment of resilience, nodded to Ripley, a silent acknowledgment of the partnership that had formed in the crucible of combat.

Their victory was a hard-fought one, but it was just the beginning of their journey. The Xenomorph threat had been contained, and the survivors now had to turn their attention to completing their mission.

With Ripley's knowledge and the Spartans' expertise, they meticulously set charges throughout the ship, ensuring that the Xenomorphs would never leave these dark corridors. As the explosives were set and the timer activated, the survivors retreated from the vessel, moving with the solemn determination of soldiers who had seen too much.

As they reconnected with their comrades and returned to the UNSC Infinity, the survivors exchanged few words. The magnitude of their encounter with the Xenomorphs left an indelible mark on their souls. The ship that had become a nightmarish battleground was consumed in a blinding explosion, taking with it the last remnants of the Xenomorph threat.

The universe was safe for now, and the survivors had succeeded in preventing a potential catastrophe. Their mission was accomplished, but the scars of their ordeal would forever remind them of the horrors they had faced.

The story of the master chief versus the Xenomorphs had reached its conclusion, and the universe had been spared from a deadly infestation. Yet, as they looked to the stars, they couldn't help but wonder what other unknown horrors might be lurking in the cosmic abyss. The shadows of the unknown continued to cast their long, haunting reach, and the survivors were left with a profound understanding that their duty to protect humanity extended far beyond the boundaries of known space.

#usa #halo #games #fan fiction