#and the ghost thing as like. quantum bullshit. whatever.
Text
Happy Valentines Day, time for newspapers and jackass raisin-looking fuckers.
“Last time on Quantum Leap: Oh, I bet you thought we forgot about that chip subplot… Get fucked.”
And now the wolf is in the hen house, and odds are he ain’t fucking leaving.
Also, Ben wrote a letter; in unrelated news, Tom is pissed.
Hard cut to the 80s!
Cinematic parallels: Ian got an ominous phone call last week, Ben gets one today.
“Look, I could tell you more about the people who are gonna die, but because I hate you now- (CLICK!) (beeeeeeeeeeeeep)”
“God, where do I find you people?!” …the want ads?
Why does the guy Ben leapt into look like Jack Quaid?
Ben, you are doing swimmingly at acting normal today.
And the reporter is dismissing the fact Ben got an ominous phone call, and I vividly remember a car blowing up in the trailer for this episode, so, 5… 4… 3…
“Look, I’m Connie Davis, fuck your phone call.”
“This is the biggest story I’ve had in months.” And hard cut to Halloweentown.
“Steve, exactly how big is your pumpkin?” Big enough to topple the government?
I love how you can tell Connie wanted to die the second “Good gourd” was spoken.
“Now Steve, I know your viewers are dying to know- just like how your wife is probably literally dying, based on that cough-”
Meanwhile, the real 3 Ws: Waffles, wine, and Wednesday afternoon napping
“Okay, Steve said words, I wanna leave now.”
“There, I punched the camera, that’s how you know the battery died.”
“Look, Ben, you stopped a stroke, but car crashes are a little more unpredictable. Also, there’s this guy, Gideon-“
And I’m hoping to God the produces bought that number before someone tried to call it…
“Can we please focus on the leap, and not the subplots?”
My guess, Connie got fired for talking shit about Barbara Walters.
“And now she does-“ “Pumpkins.” Phrasing.
The more pumpkin puns she is forced to hear and say, the more Connie wants to die.
And cut to Newton’s shit ass cradle.
[Full disclosure: I am actively muting the parts of the episode involving Gideon. I have captions in, but still.]
“All I’m suing is blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.”
Just saying, Ben had three shots to indirectly erase Gideon from the plot, and I doubt this one’s gonna be the one.
“Look, sir, I’ve been kept in the dark, maybe let me in on this subplot?”
[And now I am actively glad I am muting Gideon; I can just tell he’s saying this bit of expo with a smug tone.]
Oh fuck you, I wrote “blah blah” because I didn’t have time for your bullshit, you don’t get to use “blah blah”.
…calling it now, whatever “needs” to happen, Magic is gonna take one for the team.
[Sound goes on.]
Meanwhile in the parking garage of doom.
Bean, you suck at the news.
…okay, I was joking, but is the parking garage haunted?
Fellas, you ever get cockblocked by an answering machine?
“Look, man, I know I have a gun and a ski mask, but you are freaking me the fuck out; why were you talking to a ghost?”
Dude, Ben doesn’t even know what the story is. Neither do we!
Game Theory: The guy actually forgot to check if his gun was loaded, and had to pivot at the last second.
“That’s right, I punched you in the face, I hope you learned something today.”
[“Okay, Ben blacked out, cue the title.”]
Stop telling Ben to drop a thing he knows shit all about.
…is it bad that I thought she was gonna dump whiskey on his wound?
“I think we have a story-” “A concussion.” A story-driven concussion.
BREAKING NEWS: Pumpkins are attacking people!
“Look, I had to make you look like a dumbass to save your ass.”
“What if this is the next Watergate? You know, I heard the real reason that got tipped off to the press was because a college professor snuck into the building so that this one student could say goodbye to her dad before he went to Vietnam! He even did a dance on the steps and talked to a ghost!”
“Rule one of doing work: See rule one.”
“Why are you always covered in blood, and do I keep thinking that’s low key hot?”
Ben, the universe can suck an egg.
“You’re the best leaper I know.” Meanwhile Elsewhere, Sam Beckett is seething.
“It was either being a journalist or being in the military, Ben.”
Ben 100% stole that whiteboard.
And now Ben and Addison have to figure out what the plot is.
“What do we know?” “Not much.” For example, throwing this out there, the date?
“A suit works at a company.” Mic drop.
It took mentioning a lawyer for us to get within the ballpark of the date this leap is happening on.
“There, I wrote ‘Lawyer’ big. Are closer to solving this leap?”
That fucking beast of a computer…
“Look, it’s an all-nighter, and I want a distraction from the Gideon subplot.”
Ben, no, you were doing so good, don’t get distracted by relationship shit!
I have a sinking suspicion that wasn’t all the coffee Ben drank…
Okay, so, technically Tom was the puppet.
“Look, I can do my job and be pissy about relationship bullshit.”
“I got a call at 3 in the morning telling me to burn Quantum Leap to the ground.” I swear to fucking God if that was an indirect way of saying NBC’s cancelling the show…
[No sooner did I type that, Tumblr tried eating this post, I ain’t taking any chances, part 2.]
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Headcanons for being Hope van Dyne’s child
Hope van Dyne x child!reader
Scott Lang x stepkid!reader
warnings: insects (ants), sharp weapons
a/n:
prompt: anonymous: “Happy holidays darling! Would you write HC for Hope Van Dyne's child? Love the step-parents HC 🥰”
growing up as a lil smarty pants
grandpa hank was pretty proud, although he didn’t see you very much
once every few years
but he did tell you all these crazy stories about his adventures that you honestly thought were just fiction (until you were older)
“and i was as small as an ant, but i was still incredibly strong! remember that, kid. just because you aren’t as big as someone else doesn’t mean you can’t beat them” -hank
“y/n doesn’t need to be hearing those stories, hank” -hope
“why not? they have important life lessons in them!” -hank
“why does mommy call you ‘hank?’” -you
“because mommy hates grandpa, isn’t that right?” -hank
“okay, i think that’s enough of this visit. come on, y/n, time to go” -hope
your mom was very supportive of you, nonetheless
she wanted to be different from her dad
so she showed up to EVERYTHING
birthdays, sick days, tucking you in for bed, parent-teacher conferences, art shows, you name it
“here’s some tea, jellybelly. it’ll make your throat feel better” -hope
“mom, i think i’m dying” -you
“you’ll be fine” -hope, givin’ u a kiss on the forehead
life wasn’t like, extra crazy or anything. sometimes she’d bring you to work and honestly? darren cross didn’t seem like the worst guy. he even brought you whatever you might need if your mom was staying late at work
“hey, van dyne junior! i brought you a puzzle that might keep you busy for a while...and a happy meal from mcdonalds! let me know if you need anything else, me and your mom will just be in the lab for a little while” -darren
“thank you!!!” -you
uh huh, ur mom taught u manners!
anyways you started spending more time with your grandpa cuz they had a plan
thats when you found out that his “turning small” stories were not, in fact, bullshit
“wait grandpa...you actually did shrink as small as an ant?” -you
“why would i lie?” -hank
okay well cue you wanting to shrink down to ant size now it was your new aspiration
you did learn how to command ants tho!!!!!!
but unfortunately (or not so unfortunately) hank brought scott to the party
“hi!” -you, waking scott up
“what?!” -scott, jumping back against the headboard
“hi.” -you, staring at him “im y/n. these are my ants”
bullet ants were just crawlin around the place
“oh, that’s....that’s cool. any chance you could tell me where i am or how i got here” -scott
“wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy” -you, leaving abruptly
“are you bothering our guest?” -hope, watching you proudly nod “good job, jellybelly”
mom taught u how to punch 🥰🥰🥰
and let you use scott as a punching bag
but scott wasn’t like awful or anything he was just insufferable at times
“i think you’d like my daughter cassie. she’s weird and smart just like you” -scott
“did you just call me weird? mom, can i punch him again?” -you
“no no no! i meant weird in a good way! please dont hurt me anymore!” -scott
chasing him around the yard ready to ATTACK
hank had to tell u to cut it out
“dont tell them what to do” -hope
“someone has to” -hank
“excuse me? i parent y/n just fine, better than you ever did for me!” -hope
“do they do this often?” -scott
“every time they see each other but that’s not very much” -you
“hm...hey, do you like ice cream? specifically baskin robbins?” -scott
ur mom said “we do not associate with idiots ❤️” and then proceeded to associate with said idiots
scott did end up saving u from darren tho bc that mf tried to hold u hostage and scott was really not in the mood for that bullshit
“you alright, y/n?” -scott
“murder is okay, right?” -you
after that whole ordeal he and your mom were kinda a thing uh huh
and he introduced you to cassie!!! she was amazingly sweet and you could def see the family resemblance
“is this my new sibling?! i’ve always wanted one!” -cassie
“hey, me too!” -you
you hung out with her on a weekly basis, with or without scott
and mom and grandpa were working on a ✨special project✨
one you insisted on being apart of
“no, y/n, we can’t make you your own suit. you’re too young for this sort of thing” -hope
“pleaaaaase mom? i swear i’ll he responsible with it!” -you
“you’re mother is right, y/n. you’re just not ready yet. maybe someday, but not anytime soon” -hank
scott took you on family bowling trips yes he did
and just corny stepdad shit
but he went to germany and mom and him broke up and FF to two years later when you guys had finally reunited
“scott!! you asshole!!” -you, like this -> :)
“kiddo!! sorry to hear that!!” -scott, same energy
shading him the whole time
“ach mein gott” -you
“are you kidding me, y/n? i make one mistake. ONE” -scott
“you’re one mistake has caused me to live in MINIATURE HOMES” -you
“THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD THING” -scott
“WELL IT’S NOT” -you
“did you at least miss me?” -scott
“sicher habe ich” -you
“god dammit” -scott
surprise!! u kind of had a suit (for emergencies)
as a van dyne/pym, it was almost a necessity to know how to use pym particles
scott acted like a proud dad
“wow, you’re really doing it!!!” -scott
“halt die klappe” -you
“please stop” -scott, tearing up
finding out about ✨grandma✨
she possessed scott and touched ur face and told you that she was so excited to meet you but you didn’t know wtf was going on and you had the urge to smack scott but THANKFULLY you did not
“i have to meet her for real! let me help you guys!” -you
“okay” -hope
“what? really?” -you
“it’s about time we put your genius to good use” -hope
scott offered you a high five for that and u literally accepted it
“don’t get too happy, that was just an in-the-moment thing” -you, watching scott’s eyebrow raise “fine. you can have a hug”
okay okay well everything went okay and then half the world ~vanished~ including ur whole family but like cassie and her family took you in and you spent five years very alone and upset until one day cassie called you downstairs and whoopdedoo???? scott???????
“is my mom with you?” -you
“sorry, sport, she’s not...do you have your suit with you? we need to go on some...hero business” -scott
you missed scott a lot over the past 5 years, this really did cheer you up, even if it was just him
“how’ve you been holding up the past few years” -scott
“the world sucks, man” -you
“i can see that” -scott
he turned on some tunes for the two of you to enjoy otw to the avengers hq and it was probably the best memory you created since everyone disappeared
“wait, reach into the glove box” -scott
“oh, god, i hope there’s no rodents in here...” -you, reaching for a picture “is this..?”
“family photo!! you were little back then, i can’t believe how time flies. i mean, it flew really quick for me, the quantum realm is no joke” -scott
you were busy staring at the picture of your mom, you really missed her
busy ~saving the world~
and going to 2012 with scott
“hey uh just so you know, i might be able to make pym particles” -you
“‘might?’ and if we use faulty pym particles we ‘might’ die. would you like that?” -tony
“hey, back off, stark. they’re just trying to help” -scott
next thing u know ur in present day and THEN u actually got to hold the scepter bc scott let u
“im gonna stab you!!” -you
“no!!!” -scott
the other avengers, literally mourning natasha while you chase him around with a sharp weapon: 😧
okay after the place was destroyed u got to face mr. purple man and yo mama showed back up and saw you on the front lines
“y/n????” -hope
“mom????” -you
“scott!!!!” -scott
“really, scott? a shrek reference? now?” -you “...nice”
the reunion with your mom was short and sweet but you missed her forehead kisses and she gave you one immediately!!!! and she was crying but you were too bc damn
“listen, after this, we’re gonna have such a fun family night. i’m so sorry i couldn’t be there for you all this time” -hope
“mom, it wasn’t your fault...it was that purple bastard, let’s get him!” -you
“they grow up so fast...” -hope
i n s e c t f a m
insect fam killed it out there and then ✨attended tony’s funeral✨ together right after
that’s one solid family 😌💖
anyways time to celebrate a (halfway) return to normalcy
with your *sister* cassie and your mom and your...scott
you were just happy to all be together again, it’s been WAY too long
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot //
#hope van dyne imagine#hope van dyne x reader#hope van dyne#hope van dyne x child!reader#hope van dyne x daughter!reader#hope van dyne x son!reader#wasp#wasp x reader#wasp imagine#scott lang x daughter!reader#scott lang x reader#scott lang imagine#scott lang#scott lang x child!reader#mom!hope van dyne#dad!scott lang#stepdad!scott#ant man#ant man imagine#ant man x reader#marvel#avengers#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#avengers x reader#avengers imagine
340 notes
·
View notes
Text
Obey Me Explained….. Kinda
In which I do my best to explain the shit hell that is the Time Travel in Obey Me.
Spoilers: It’s absolute bullshit
So we start in chapter uhhh 15 technically since the plot twist is explained that Barbatos is actually a OP Time Wizard, which feels like a throwaway plot device… like dude there are so many ideas and you use Time Travel? Come on.
However I do appreciate the Yugioh Pyramid room. Good taste.
Anyways Barbatos gives you VERY CLEAR INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO NOT FUCK UP and what does MC do? Why THEY FUCKING BREAK VERY FUCKING RULE IN THE LAWS OF TIME TRAVEL. *screams in quantum physics*
Barbatos’ Rules of Time Traveling (It’s more so Timeline Hopping but you know what, I can scream all day but it won’t change anything)
Do not reveal you are from the future (More like don’t reveal you are from a different Timeline or Universe)
Do not meet your past self (Hello??? Doppelgängers??? Stay the FUCK away)
Don’t make contact with others from the past. (Go back, observe how Belphie got out and then get the hell out)
To get back to this point in time (Read: Timeline) you need to KNOCK and ENTER through the door you used to get to the past
Now you may be thinking, Huh? What door? I don’t remember going back through a door in the story…
And you would be right. You didn’t.
From here I’ll be explaining the Timeline and order of events and speculation as to why it occurred the way it did.
For reference. There is the Original Timeline. Which is OT1, this is the Timeline of chapters 1 to the end of 15.
The Second Timeline, OT2 is the Timeline where Belphie kills you.
The Third and Final Timeline, OT3 is the Timeline we are currently in. Which is from Chapter 16-12 and onwards.
Alright now that’s out of the way let’s get this shit sorted shall we?
When you go through the wack time travel door you are sent back to Chapter 12-13, to the perspective of the brothers as they hide so that THIS TIMELINES YOU can go romance/befriend/ WHATEVER Lucifer.
So we start with OT1’s MC dropping into Mammon’s bedroom. You know, possibly fortnite like. With everyone in there. Worst possible outcome. And rather than fucking BOLTING, you stay and chat. You know, despite being told not to. You have the option to lie about how you ended up in the room but it doesn’t change the FACTS.
At this point, there are two MC’s. One from OT1 and one that is currently vibing with Lucifer.
The boys end up kicking you out of the room and telling you to go chit chat with Lucifer, unaware that there is already a different version of you doing that.
So you hear Lucifer and your other self coming down the hall and this is where shit starts to get weird.
Regardless of which option you choose (Run, Hide, Turn Invisible- which by the way seems kinda like a weird option right? I’ll get to that later) you end up going into Lilith’s room.
Now. Directly from the transcript.
It’s so warm in here.
I recognize this place. It feels like someplace I know very well.
Now. Time to over analyze. You may be wondering why this matters. I’ll get to that in a bit I promise.
It’s stated that it’s warm. But really that doesn’t make sense. The room is stagnant. Nobody comes in or out. The room is abandoned since Lilith is dead and nobody uses it. However, I have a theory that Lilith is spiritually attached to your body which is why you sense what you feel.
Lilith probably has plenty of memories of sitting by the FIREPLACE in her room with Beel and Belphie. A lot of times people with spirit attachments get senses of déjà vu when they are near places that the Spirit used to frequent when the Spirit was alive.
The next area of weirdness is Leviathan. He comes in, unannounced and addresses you as if you were Lilith.
Transcript:
I’m coming in, okay?
Aha, I thought I’d find you in here.
Wait, Belphie’s not here?
Huh, that’s weird… He was just telling me that he was going to stop by your room.
Both of you were playing hide-and-seek, right?
He said he couldn’t find you. He looked like he was about to cry.
Why don’t you try to go find Belphie yourself? I mean, I guess it’s hard to say who’s it at that point, but still.
Well, see ya later.
Alright. So we have a lot to unwrap here, but I’ll make it short and sweet. Something clearly happened when you KNOCKED and ENTERED Lilith’s room (Hint Hint Nudge Nudge) What happened you ask? You jumped timelines. Which is why everything seems disjointed and jarring. It’s not supposed to be normal or feel normal, the game is subtly telling you that you aren’t supposed to be there.
Time is beginning to fray at the seams and when you exit the room you jump into another timeline AGAIN. As you go to the stairs to get to Belphie which you would think should be vacant, they are not.
From a casual players perspective you’d think oh! Well Lucifer and past me are in the living room, and the brothers are in Mammon’s room. So it’s all clear, right?
Wrong.
From the moment you exited Lilith’s bedroom you entered the OT2 Timeline. Which takes place roughly right after Lucifer imprisons Belphie in the attic. And at this point in time, you haven’t arrived in the Devildom yet.
I make this assumption based on the transcript:
Belphegor: What scares you is the thought of disappointing Diavolo, isn’t it?!
Say something! Lucifer!
The old Lucifer wasn’t like this. He wasn’t afraid of what someone else thought of him. He wasn’t pathetic like that.
Lucifer: You’re free to think whatever you want, Belphegor. Also…
I’d say you’ve changed as well.
It would seem weird for them to be arguing like this in the present since it’s like. Wow y’all are really just arguing over the same plot point for an ENTIRE year? Damn and I thought I was stubborn.
Anyways.
Lucifer comes down the stairs. You hide and yadda yadda and you goooo upstairrrrssss
Oh boy oh boy this gets FUCKED in hurry folks
So you YOU can just. Open the door. Without Lucifer’s pact? 🤔 k. And then you go and have familiar dialogue choices to wake Belphie up and blahhhhh
Let me get something off the table here. I am calling entire Bullshit on the Lilith is my ancestor origin story. I hate it and you may or may not hate it too so I’ll present a better argument.
Lilith, the lovely gal that she was, upon remembering who she was when she died decided to haunt the House of Lamentation. Which would provide reasoning as to WHY people believe the House is haunted.
When you come to the house of Lamentation to stay with the brothers you catch Lilith’s eye, and she sees that you have the potential to fix the rifts between the brothers. When she attaches herself to you she forms a pseudo pact with you. Why is this important? Because that’s how you got the dumb door open in the OT2 Timeline.
Now some of you may be screaming, BUT THEN HOW DID IT WORK IN THE ORIGINAL TIMELINE THEN HMMMM? And to that I answer. Lilith could see how the conversation between Lucifer and you was heading and she went to go unlock the door. And before you yell and say BUT SHE IS A GHOST-
Ghosts can manipulate objects, yeah? All she had to do was open the door.
Now this is my theory, in the canon of the game it uses garbage Terminator Time Travel logic which is A PARADOX. Feel free to fight me on this, I have receipts.
Anyway. You open the door. Oh but! You can choose to call out before you do. But conveniently nobody answers. Which means one of two things. Either Belphie falls asleep very quickly, or something else is at work here.
Remember those turn invisible options? Kinda strange right? I mean they wouldn’t even work anyways so why were they listed? Answer: Lilith. Lilith is a ghost so at times of being discovered it would be easy for a ghost to just vanish. That’s why it’s listed as if it were one of the choices you would instinctively make.
Belphie had just been conversing with Lucifer, and while he is the Avatar of Soth, you have seen his anger. He wouldn’t succumb to sleep while enraged. And he has no reason to ignore you either.
What do I think?
*puts on tin foil hat like it’s a crown*
It’s because something isn’t letting him hear you.
I’ll get to that something later. First things first.
You get in the room and you have some…. choice dialogue. In OT1 Lilith had let Belphie out and naturally since she is attached to you, you have the same instinctive reaction to do the same. The difference is that you are still you. That’s why there is a Lilith choice and there is a you choice.
Transcript of Chapter 13-10
??? (Lilith):
Belphie…
Wake up…
Sorry Belphie…
Now the choices from Chapter 16-4
Wake up. (Lilith)
Belphegor. (MC)
Sorry. (Lilith)
It’s okay. (MC)
This might be over analyzing but fuck it. We ain’t here to under analyze.
Moving right along, remember how I said we are at the point where you weren’t in the devildom? Well you went through another door, and jumped timelines again. And not ONLY that but you jump into the body of the OT2 MC, your memories are those of OT1 but you are in the body of OT2.
Where is your OT1 body? It’s hidden by the stairs patiently waiting for you to die so you can inhabit it again.
Weird right? But it makes sense, and here is why.
When Belphie brings you to the edge of death you are lying on the border of the afterlife. As such you would be a lot more susceptible to, let say, communication with ghosts.
A.k.a Our good Lilith.
ALSO NOTE Lilith never outright says she is our ancestor and as such I’m going to ignore what Diavolo says because I don’t trust him for reasons. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but I don’t trust him. At. All.
I’m more inclined to believe that Lilith was trying to say “Because you are my last hope.” Rather than descendant. I mean she outright says she chose you and that she has been watching over you and the brothers. Fact-check brought to you by Chapter 16-10.
Alrighty. Still here? Good.
Lilith lends you some of her power. And you pop back into existence.
Now at first I thought. Oh hey Lilith reversed time! That’s neat, now Barbatos isn’t too OP.
Except…. that’s not what happened at all.
The body you had been killed in was in Mammon’s arms. And your OT1 mind and body are now in what I call OT3. The final timeline. Not the true timeline, but the final one.
Now you really should skedaddle back to the palace and go to the yugioh room AND LEAVE
But you get caught. And things get very very…. suspicious. History at this point IF we were time traveling would be fucked, but since I don’t believe we are, we are still golden.
ALSO TO EVEN PUSH MORE ON THIS FACT YOU HAVE A FLASHBACK TO BARBATOS TELLING YOU NOT TO COME INTO CONTACT WITH ANYONE
But a moment later Leviathan sees you. And things get funky. The OT2 you vanishes, we have canon confirmation that both OT1 and OT2 WERE REAL VERSIONS OF YOU. No fakes here folks.
Now. Here is what piqued my interest.
You explain the story of Lilith and Belphie calls you a liar before Lucifer proclaims it to be true. Then Lucifer asks you how you know about it.
When you tell him the truth, that he had told you, he denies it and asks for an explanation. Before you can so much as breathe a response someone intervenes.
Who you may ask?
Diavolo, of course.
He makes a proclamation about you being Lilith’s descendant and your connection to her. Lucifer often tries to interject but is shut down. Every. Single. Time.
Hmmmm indeed.
Spiritual attachments, if they are strong enough can cause visions. And you may see memories from the spirit.
I firmly want to believe that all this is bullshit in an attempt to distract us from the fact that we are not in the correct timeline.
I mean…. did anyone notice just how easy Belphie gave in once Diavolo used the Lilith card? I mean, seriously, the guy killed you. And attempted to do so again not even five minutes earlier!
Diavolo and Barbatos don’t want you dead. And naturally you’d reason that of course they wouldn’t! The exchange program requires you to be alive after all. But what if…. there is more to it? I have reason to believe that Diavolo has more in mind than just the exchange program.
I mean this is the same man who Barbatos serves, it would be easy for him to just…. manipulate reality. We saw an example of this when the OT2 body vanished.
However keep in mind that the Diavolo and Barbatos we are speaking to are not the same as the original ones. These two are from OT3. And they might have a very very different agenda when compared to OT1.
In Chapter 16-19 we ask Barbatos if we warped history.
This is what we get back:
I know I told you that I have the power to see both the past and the future, but the truth is that there’s one more secret —something I still haven’t mentioned.
You see, I have the power to select from any number of different potential realities and make any of them into the sole reality.
Within the various potential realities, there are an infinite number of versions of MC…
...however, in the sole reality I chose, the one and only MC is the one right there. That’s why the previous MC disappeared while you remained…
Now by this logic, there are an infinite number of Barbatos’. Which poses an interesting question. OT3 Barbatos is acting as if he is OT1, which he is not. But him acting shady isn’t not the big issue here, believe it or not.
He can manipulate reality. Unravel it at his fingertips. He himself could have gone back and figured out that the ghost of Litith was the one to have opened the door. Which begs the question, why didn’t he?
Either OT1 Barbatos does not possess the ability to manipulate reality or he had withheld information on purpose.
Now that’s a scary thought. I mean why would they withhold information unless…. unless…
You were a danger.
I am in the belief that Barbatos of OT1 is on your side, he gives instructions on how to get back. Because you NEED to get back. There are consequences for messing with time, like…. getting stuck in a parallel reality. *wink wink*
On the other hand… if Barbatos of OT1 COULD manipulate reality then why bother with you unless… there was an extra variable at play.
What if Barbatos couldn’t see what happened. What if Mister OP Time Wizard suddenly encountered an anomaly with you? What if this entire situation was orchestrated by Diavolo in an effort to figure out why Lilith attaches herself to you?
But. The horror doesn’t end here folks.
I believe that OT3 Diavolo and Barbatos are lying in an effort to keep you here, in OT3. After all, Barbatos just yeeted the OT2 MC into smoke after all. And we have NO idea where the OT3 MC is. Honestly I have a very funny feeling that you, the OT1 mc, have powers of your own. Ones that are not related to Lilith.
Because Lilith is just lending her aid, you already have something there for her to boost.
You traveling back in time (Timeline hopping, fight me) May have been a test, a test to see if you had powers locked up inside you.
And I think that you do. I think that we are being played as a fool and that there is something much larger at play here.
Or - And please hear me out - I’m going stir crazy in this quarantine.
Hope you guys enjoyed 💚
A/N this took me about 2 hours? To write and bounce between apps. This is about 2.8k words. Maybe I’ll come back and elaborate more on this but it’s late and I’m tired lmao. Someone take the tin foil away from me-
#Obey Me#Obey Me Headcanon#Obey Me Theory#Obey Me Lucifer#Obey Me Leviathan#Obey Me Diavolo#Obey Me Barbatos#Obey Me Lilith#Obey Me Belphie#Obey Me Belphegor#Lmao I hope this makes sense
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here
Trigger warnings: All of them, because I am lazy. Also none of this is sensical.
Utter, hyper-caffeinated brain noise.
The problem with the concept of a "sense of self" is it already tries to concretize an amorphous abstract. It makes us want to point at some thing and say "Well... that's me." Whether it is a set of ideals that we try to live by, a set of activities that brings us a sense of joy or fulfillment, or, gods forbid, and entirely different and other person that "completes us."
I've always had an affinity for trickster figures and shapeshifters. The wearers of masks, the truthful liars, the artisans of duality, yada, yada. Since I was a child my first instinct has always been to blend in. If into the background, great, but if need be, if I needed to blend into the social fabric around me, I could do that too. To throw this into the high school backdrop; I wasn't a social butterfly, I was shy as could be, but I got along with the jocks, the goths, the nerds, the art freaks, the band kids, the preps, the whatever. Where ever I was I could fake that I belonged there. I was comfortable drifting in between worlds. (Looking back, I could have caused a lot more chaos with the information I was privy to at the time...[Oh, there's a constant point. I'm good at keeping secrets, keeping confidence. I'll lie my ass off to keep a secret.]) Does any of that really help drive a sense of self though? When your natural instinct is to mirror, to blend, to fade? When your point of pride is walking into a room unnoticed and, even better, leaving a party unseen? Does being a ghost count as an identity?
"Expression of Will" comes to mind... what does that mean? Ok, so some abstract thing is inside of you and you manifest it objectly outwardly. I was an artist. I made images in my head and "kind of" manifest them on paper. Some times people see that paper... I was a writer... images in my head "became" words and some people saw that. I combined them into comics. Some people Saw that. Is that a lasting affect? Maybe the fights I've been into?! That time in 2nd grade someone was picking on a friend and I laid them out... the time in 8th grade someone was picking on me and clocked them down. Or in high school when someone decided to start some rumors and I held them up by their throat in the air until they turned blue? That was an inward thing that manifested outwardly. Nevermind good or bad, but was any of that... me?
Hmm. The beast. The primal... come back to that later.
"Expression of Will," "Expression of Will," "Expression of Will" ... What the fuck even is "Will"? Is this why philosophers get their heads so far up their ass?
Is it a desire? The will to live.... living requires eating and the amount of times I forget to even do that... Maybe been looking at the phrase all wrong...
Will to Live (noun)
It isn't a thing.
Will (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)
Why does that sound better?
Desire to Live (noun)
Desire (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)
Okay, that feels better even, but still... Sense of self, will, desire, expressions thereof. Are these just the aimless desires and wills? The fleeting flights of frivolous fancies festering forlornly in frontal cortices?
The self with the will can direct the desires towards living. "Get in the fucking robot Shinji!" "I don't wanna"
The (ghost) with the (strength) can direct the (impulses) towards (being).
Getting too close to a concept of a soul on that one huh?
Forget self. It's a useless moniker right now. There is no self. It's just this mind alone for the first time in its entire life. (Not alone alone, there are friends, but they've learned more about me in the past two weeks than the past 6 years so...)
"What did they learn?" asked the projection of self that defines itself by interactions with other.
I thought we were forgetting self.... not an option really. Sentience is a bitch like that. But they've learned I'll put up with a lot of bullshit under the guise of strength and integrity when I should've callously called this whole thing ages ago. That I can shut myself down completely in the interest of bodily-self preservation. (Not Self-self preservation, fuck the English language). What did I sacrifice? What did I shut down?
Everything.
That is less than helpful.
The Beast. Vince. Your Shadow.
My Shadow...
What do you desire?
Blood in the cut, tears in their eyes, power over someone that wants that power over them...
Do you want that? I don't want it, I just need it. No... I want it.
Is that all you are? A sadist? An animal?
Maybe... probably not though. A caretaker, and a sparring partner. A trickster and a shapeshifter. A crafter whose tools are destruction.
Next problem, grandeur. Mythologizing everything. But how to see a thing if you don't blow it up/magnify it?
You lack a sense of self because no one ever tested your sense of self. No one actually fought you for who you are. To find out who you are.
The ex didn't. An old friend did until she got scared by what she found there.
You don't want to be yourself because it's not nice is it? You were raised to be nice.
College. I controlled the group. Never hit anyone after high school aside from set matches in classes or sparring for funsies. They all saw my eyes and stopped if they were getting out of hand.
The Dom-Friend.
Don't use the d-word on me.
Destroyer? Yeah, that one's fine. That one fits. He says as he carelessly tosses lit matches around his entire life. Can we bring up the phoenix or is that too grandiose? Why shouldn't it be grandiose? We spend every day of our lives going through the same kind of tedious bullshit all the time why not make our inner lives a bit bigger, a bit richer?
A bit darker.
Why do you want them to bleed? Hurt and comfort. That's a big theme, a trope if you will. Why not have both at the same? Why not let her think that I'm about to kill her but let her rest in the trust that I won't? Why not let me think that I'm about to break her while believing she is the most precious thing in the world?
Caretaker. A caretaker kills all the time. Tearing out weeds, uprooting the prized plant to move it to a better place for its growth.
Growth.
The self isn't going to be found just in ones self... not in another either. No, the self has to be found in everything. The things one wants to run to and run from. The soul (oops) is formed by what it crashes into right? The mind recoils from traumas races towards panaceas, why not, if one can, flip the polarity on the two. Bring the darkness screaming into the light so you can see it, bring the light quivering into the darkness so it can loose its terrifying brillance. Balance in all things right?
You're not a very positive person, they say. No... I'm not. It lashes out in bad ways sometimes, sure. Control, control, you must learn control. But being negative isn't bad. Not if you can grow from it. No plant can survive the sun for 24 hours. Trees sleep in the winter. We sleep, we heal, we grow.
Self-Destruction!! That's a fun one... seven fucking months downing a bottle of whisky a night. Whooo boy. Do Not Recommend.
Got a nice stay in the underworld though and trudged up a lot of shit. Now I'm sitting here with my ears ringing because I finally hit the personal limit on Monsters and my brain is overclocked enough I can finally see shit at 4 angles at the same time. I am a god damned quantum supercomputer of emotions right now.
Faith and faithlessness are the same thing. Have faith, trust the future, don't expect anything, don't plan your now for your future. Sounds sadly like live in the moment type bullshit, but life is weird and people are complex. Shifting drifting clueless animals that want to be safe but don't want to get stuck in anothers arms even when there is one whose arms are so safe.
The damage runs deep... and two people with damage running that deep. Hmm. How much healing can falling do? The other just puts a bandage over a puncture wound and both try to ignore it, but then the blood gets pumping, the heart pounds and poisons surge to the surface. It's neither one's fault really. Life is a trial of knives and we don't always have time or concern to tend the wounds properly. There's always something else that needs to be taken care of first.
Divorce is a helluva drug. It is maddening, the freedom to finally to be yourself is line having the lineart stripped off, there is a terrifying infinity in front of you and the only thing to do for awhile is melt. Let the slings and arrows just pierce and sink in. Anyone else tries to push the sludge of you into a shape might get hurt when they find the arrows. I want to go absolutely feral in a way. In a way the whole COVID mess is keeping me under lock and key so I'm just prowling around the empty house like I always have been, but now there's some sense... of purpose.
I'm raging against any depression, the executive dysfunction is going to have a talking to. The sense of self is going to be found in stripping this house down to bare walls and making a blank canvas. Bring everything down, ruin it all, start again.
My self is emptiness, it always has been. I can be anything, but I should be wary of ever wanting to be something. (My career options are AWESOME). But this is a different emptiness than before. Before I pulled the trigger and splattered the brains of the marriage across the floor I was just a void, and inky black pit of nothingness. Somehow, having the Shadow rise up and finally start getting along with the rest of me, the emptiness isn't.... void. It's just nascent possibility and that shouldn't scare me.
It does, of course, terrify me. First time in 40 years being legitimately alone is terrifying, should have done this kinda thing when I was 20, but... I was an idiot back then (60 year old me laughs from the future). But I think I can get a grip on the concept that "I" don't exist, but I'm real... ever changing ever dynamic, not who I was while I was married, but a mix of the me before, a angry beast now, and something yet unseen in the future.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Custom Toonami Block Week 51 Rundown
Code Geass: Shirley shoots Viletta to protect Lelouch which is weird because I remember that plot point not happening till way later, maybe it’s just not relevant till way later. But Mao is gross and creepy and tries to make Shirley kill Lelouch but Lelouch stops her and makes her forget about him and it’s the saddest thing ever even though just making her forget the past few days probably would’ve been easier to explain but Lelouch always has to take the path that fucks him over just a little more because he feels like he deserves it because Zero Requiem.
Inuyasha: We enter a semi-long stretch of filler with a Shippo episode, one of many where he gets a crush on a young girl and Miroku makes borderline inappropriate comments but it’s good filler fun and we hang out and relax a little after the intense stretch of episodes fighint dragons and demons and Koga and Inuyasha punches the lizard demon to death so it’s all good.
Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke dies and it’s REALLY FUCKIN SAD LIKE I DON’T REMEMBER IT BEING THIS SAD GUYS. But overall the whole It’s a Wonderful Life thing is a surprisingly efficient character introduction for Yusuke, killing off the protagonist with automobile-chan may be the standard nowadays but I don’t think anyone’s used it to this great effect since. Also Yusuke’s mom is hotter than I remember but maybe I’m just getting old and attracted to milfs now.
Unlimited Blade Works: Shirou summoned swords and had a magical stroke so now he’s breaking shit and is weirdly pissy about Rin being in his house and then Archer comes and realigns his chakras or whatever and gives him Homura’s “You don’t have what it takes to be a magical girl” speech.
Gurren Lagann: I’mma be honest, the first half of this episode is people spouting nonsensical bullshit about probability and pseudo-quantum physics and I love how ridiculously awesome and awesomely ridiculous it is. The second half has everyone trapped in the Infinite Tsukuyomi before Kamina busts them out with ghost power and determination.
FMA Brotherhood: The cavalry arrives for Mustang’s raid on Central and General Armstrong quietly mocks every other military officer for being such whiny babies about getting shot in the leg and shit.
Attack on Titan: The Battle for Shiganshina begins and Armin is incredibly nervous about giving people orders despite basically doing it the whole series, now he can officially do it. Eren continues his existential crisis but gets up enough balls to plug part of the wall before Reiner stabs a guy, is stabbed and falls off the wall and instead of becoming headless mist on the ground is able to transform for some reason.
#ooc#Toonami#Custom Toonami Block#Code Geass#Inuyasha#Yu Yu Hakusho#Unlimited Blade Works#Gurren Lagann#FMA Brotherhood#Attack on Titan
1 note
·
View note
Text
Something dumb
fallen hero: rebirth / retribution fanfiction. definitely spoilers here + putting my cards on the table with w i l d speculation about stuff we probably won’t get any solid information on until book 3 which... who knows how far away. But it’s more fun to do it like this then make a big nonsense theory post imo. i’ll be fucking shocked if i guessed anything right
uh... anyway! ~2.1k words [ao3]
–
This is novel; it’s almost eleven and you’re still not dressed. Just a bath towel. In someone else’s apartment. Julia Ortega is upending all the rules you’ve set to keep yourself safe. Can’t shake the feeling it’s going to be your downfall. Careless. Arrogant.
“So explain this to me, again.” Julia is eating breakfast at the kitchen table, sausage and eggs. You watch her from your position curled up on the couch, arms resting over the back. She watches you back.
“Which part?” Try to smile, try to make it look natural, normal. Are you succeeding? You can’t know.
You try not to look at your arms as you sip the cup of coffee. Julia had insisted, given how little sleep you had gotten. Nightmares, always. You can’t run from ghosts. Can’t run from yourself. Wherever you go, there you are.
Julia stabs a tiny sausage with a fork before waving it in your direction. “Let’s start with the basics. What actually is a re-gene?”
You bite your lip. “What actually is a person, Julia?”
She flinches, “I’m sorry. I mean like.. I know how people are uh, made. But re-genes? It’s more complicated than the official story, I’m sure.”
Stare into the coffee cup, watch the little swirl of creamer. “I don’t know,” you finally admit.
“You don’t know?”
“Do you think they tell us anything they don’t have to? Do you tell your hammer how it was made?” You snap back at her, slump against the back of couch, hold the coffee cup stretched out before you with both hands. “I know they use the same kind of vats to grow the… the bodies like they use now in hospitals for transplants. Just… you know, they do the whole person.” You perk up, “Actually, did you know – they’re in clinical trails right now for this SRS option that combines lab grown with genetic engineering from the patient’s own genome to neutralize the risk of rejection, and it’s looking really promising and–”
“Ari.” Julia has a hand up. “Focus.”
“Right. Sorry.” You close your eyes, heat crawling up your face.
“I mean, it sounds great. Just… one thing at a time?”
“Yeah.” You blow air across the surface of your coffee mug, set the creamer spinning again.
“So you really don’t know anything?”
“Well…” You flinch, glance up at the ceiling, then back to her. “I mean, I would listen in. Whenever I had the chance. They were pretty good about keeping their guard up, but I mean… I’m just a thing so…”
“You are not a thing, Ariadne.” She looks at you, full force intensity. You have to look away. Can’t meet that. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“…thank you.” You blink your eyes, can’t rub without risking the coffee. “Okay. Well. You know how if you flash clone someone, beside committing a felony you’ve essentially just created like, an adult baby, right?”
“Yeah…?”
“The autonomic nervous system still works. Some basic behaviors, but like, babies still need to learn even the most basic elements of fine motor control. You can flash clone a hundred of your best solider, and they’ll all loll their heads back, sprawled on the ground drooling.”
“That’s what the whole chip thing is for right?”
“…right. We’re not ‘human.’ Just AI-piloted meat robots.”
Julia sits there for a moment, fork in her mouth. Her mouth tugs down in a frown. “Wait,” She puts the fork down. “That’s a lot of super basic behaviors for a program to handle.”
“Well. That’s the secret isn’t it.” Your smile turns dark. “We’ve made a lot of progress in mod interfaces and basic AI routines to run interface between the brain and servos. But Re-genes predate all of that. We still can’t get good enough AI to do proper image recognition.”
“So how…?”
“You cheat.”
“Cheat?”
Take a moment, close your eyes, will your heart to stop pounding against your chest. “What kind of program already knows everything about how the human body moves and operates? A program so complicated that writing it by scratch is basically impossible?”
Julia looks at you. Does she get it yet?
Dive on regardless. Don’t look back, jump the window. “Do you know what cognitive mapping is?”
She shakes her head. “No… I’m not going to like the answer, am I?”
You purse your lips, a thin line. “N-no, probably not.” You shift on the couch, take another sip of the coffee, will your arms to stop shaking. Some pilot you are, this body always acting on its own accord. “It’s been a theory for ages and ages. But, funny, no one can ever seem to get funding to seriously look into it. I think China maybe just started doing their own research on the question?” The taste on your tongue turns foul, bitter. “I’m sure that will end well.”
“What is it?” The tone of her voice, she knows. She’s got the idea. God you feel sick.
“Cheating.” Another sip of coffee. “Scan a human brain. Translate it into an electrical pattern you can store on a chip. You can even make copies. Quantum effects mean the copies won’t be– can’t be perfect. But you can do it. And you get something you can plug back into a body and it’ll know how to operate it.” You pause, tilt your head. “There’s an adjustment period. Every body is, uh… different you know. The adjustment is lot shorter than waiting fifteen years for a baby to grow up though.”
“Ariadne… are you telling me that–”
You push on, you’ve stewed on this for years. If you stop now, will you ever have the courage to speak about it again? “Obviously I can’t say any of this is for sure. Just… inferences I’ve made. Research I did after I… you know, after I left. But– The processing, the mapping. It’s destructive. The original brain doesn’t survive the process intact. It can’t. And– and–” You swallow, wincing from the tightness in your throat. “You can use a brain that just… just died. But, a living one is better. Clearer signal.”
The blood is draining from Julia’s face. It hurts to see. Somehow it’s worse, seeing her grapple with it than it ever was for you, hitting her with everything at once. It’s taken you years to get to this point, and you still feel sick. “Like Athena I sprang from my father’s head. But I killed him in the birthing. Well…” You blink your eyes, hard. “Some version of me did? Or proto-me?”
“Ariadne… I’m sorry, but that’s…”
“I wonder… D-do I get my own soul or did I just– just steal my donor’s?”
There’s a long silence to that. That’s fine. There’s no way to answer that question.
“Do you have any…?”
“Of Zeus’s memories?” You shake your head. “I–I don’t think so. There’s a lot of mystery to memory but it’s not hard to locate where the brain stores it. And then there are… logic gates? Firewalls? Mirrors. Mirrors that keep that kind of stuff locked out. If– if they even leave it in there at all. The goal isn’t to resurrect the dead after all.”
“That’s… I don’t know whether to call that a mercy or not, Ari.”
“They get other benefits for doing things that way too.”
“Other benefits? What other benefits?”
“They– the farm, the directive, whatever, they think the hero drug results are, are influenced by your mentality. They already… borrow DNA from boosts to uh, ‘boost’ the re-gene’s chances of surviving.”
“Fuck. Does that work?”
“I don’t know.” Chew on the inside of your cheek. “I feel like there are still a lot that got… recycled. For no powers, or… bad powers.” You stare down, voice bitter. “But we’re not real people, so… who cares, right?”
“So… wait.” Julia frowns at her scrambled eggs, then looks across the room to you. “Does that mean there’s like… other versions of you?”
“Uh–” You look away. “I don’t know? You mean, like, from the same uh, donor?” Julia winces at the word. “Or the same body?”
“Both? Either?”
“I don’t know. It’s a creepy question, though. Isn’t it? Am I even the original ‘me’ out there?” You shudder.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s fine,” you lie. “You know what I think?”
“…what?” Julia watches you, her expression unreadable. What is she thinking? What is she holding back for your sake? Does she hate you yet? Disgusted by you? Horrified?
“I don’t think it matters?” You bite at the inside of your cheek again, “I don’t know. It’s not like... It’s not like I don’t wonder. Maybe I’m trans because my donor was a woman? Or just my chip was in a female body previously and it picked up something there? Maybe they screwed up growing my body in the vat? Maybe it was on purpose and I’m just another sick experiment.”
“Ariadne...”
“A-anyway, the point is: Descartes is full of shit and mind-body dualism is bullshit too. Whatever the... parts of me where before, I’m just me now. This body... this mind, you can’t separate those. It’d be.. it’d be easier if you could maybe, but...”
Are you going too fast? Saying too much? You don’t want to lie anymore but– Julia is leaning over the table now, propping her head up with her arms. “And you sure about all of this?”
You put the coffee mug down on the end table, rub at your eyes. “I’m not sure of anything. I‘ve spent maybe half of my life on drugs by this point and–”
“Drugs?” Julia cuts in.
“That’s a whole other story.” You scrunch your face. Fuzzy, half-faded images floating to the top of your head. “And– and they can alter your memory, by the way. Erase things they don’t like. Another ‘perk’ to being a chip. Don’t ask me how I figured that one out.”
Julia is up from the table now, walking over to you, around the couch. “This is a lot to take in Ari. I think… I think I need you to slow down. Let me process. Before I do something dumb.”
You glance up at her, watch her sit down next to you. “Something dumb…?”
“Yeah, like burn down city hall.”
That gets a laugh. “Oh this is bigger than just Los Diablos.” You let her grab your shoulder, pull you in against her chest. You can’t relax. Not now. The tension burning in your shoulders. “But I… I understand. I’m– I’m really taking a risk here too you know.”
There’s just the beat of her heart against you, then– “Yeah. I know.”
“This apartment could be bugged, or the next one over.”
“It’s not, I promise you.”
“Hell, maybe they’re listening in via your mods, or–”
She waps you on the shoulder, laughing. “Get out of here!”
You huff, “I’m serious. Do you know what they’re doing in there when you’re getting an upgrade?”
“Well…” She shifts the hand on your shoulder, rubbing your arm. “No. I guess not. Thanks for giving me a whole new thing to be paranoid over.”
“Happy to help.” You lean into her.
There’s a pause then; “You know, if you’re right saying it out loud probably just screwed both of us.”
“Y-yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Stop. I asked you.”
“I’m sorry. For– for dumping all this on you. This isn’t even half of it.”
“I won’t lie Ari, it’s… hard to hear a lot of this.” Her voice is tense. Pained? Probably being truthful. You’re not sure how to feel about that.
“…I know. Thank you… for– for caring.”
“I’m just grateful you’re finally talking to me about it. Ari…” You can feel the words catch in her throat. You’ll have to prod them loose.
“What?”
“It’s just…”
“What?”
“I know I said I wasn’t going to make you stop but… maybe it would be better if you stayed low for a while? A long while?” She keeps rubbing your upper arm, fingers firm into your too-exposed skin.
“No.” Your voice is firm. You reach your hand up, pull at your hair. “I– I don’t want to hurt anyone Julia. Well,” You pause, wince. “Almost anyone, I guess. But–” You shudder, swallow down the nausea. “They have to pay.”
“Okay. I’m not going to argue against that, exactly. Just…”
“It can’t be enough to just… destroy the farm, either.” You narrow your eyes, glaring down at your legs, orange lines poking out from under the towel. “The–the very idea of the Directive needs to go down in flames. Every last cocksucking motherfucker involved needs their life ruined and their career on fire. They’ll wish they were dead.” You exhale, let the air out of your lungs in one long shaking breath. Realize your finger nails are digging into your palms. Let go. Try to let go. Swallow the pain.
There’s silence then; “It doesn’t have to be you, Ari.”
You bite back a laugh. it’s like you’ve come full circle in a year. From begging Julia to retire and let Adrestia go, and now, her she is, holding you up. Asking you. To let it go.
You can’t do that.
“Nobody else cares.” You push back against Julia, draw your legs to your chest, hug your knees. “And I’ll never be safe. They’ll never let me be. They’ll never stop haunting me.”
“I care. And so will others, if you just let them.”
A ghost of a smile on your face. “That’s a nice dream, Julia.”
“This isn’t going to make your nightmares go away.”
You swallow, press your eyes closed, turn your head in towards the crook of her arm. “I… I know.”
#fallen hero#fallen hero: rebirth#fallen hero fanfic#fhr#mc#ortega#fhr/Ariadne#spoiliers#speculation#fanfiction#wlw fanfic#wild speculation
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
HTCIC Excerpt: The ISV “Valiant”
I had the day off from work and this is what I made.
"I've got a space-ghost story," Cameesha said. "If anybody wants to hear it."
"Fuck it," said Emma.
"Is it from this station? Because I can't take any more bullshit from this station," said Sam.
"No, it's an old one. It's about why they don't use the UCB queck frequency in subspace anymore."
"Oh shit, I know this one," Sam said. "It's the Valiant, right?"
Cameesha nodded. "International Space Vessel Valiant," she said. "One of the very first worm-drive ships ever built. Before they really knew how subspace worked. It's also why all subspace vessels are required to carry six tons of liquid hydrogen and have impulse thrusters."
"Okay, I have interest," Sasha said. "Tell me this ghost story."
"Well, the first bit isn't a ghost story, it's fact," said Cameesha. "The Valiant was trying to get to Proxima Centauri from Earth. Simple trip, should've taken . . . fifteen days. Day and a half, from the crew's perspective."
"But?" said Emma.
"But," said Cameesha. "Their ion tanks popped a leak somewhere along the way, and they couldn't slow down to get back out of subspace. There's nothing in there to exert friction, so. . . ."
"They just kept going, like the damn Energizer bunny," said Sam. "And quecks don't work, between subspace and real-space, y'know? Regular communications definitely don't. So they couldn't radio for help."
"Cut to sixteen days later, Team Earth knew something had gone wrong," said Cameesha. "But, again, this is one of the very first worm-drive ships ever. We weren't sure if the queck had broken, or what. We didn't have anything that could go after them prepped. By the time we got something together, it'd been three months."
"Oh, no," Sasha said, shaking her head.
"Yeah," said Cameesha. "Not that bad, from a subspace perspective, only nine days, but all that meant was nobody had died yet. Well, we popped a ship through with a queck on the UCB frequency, also headed for Prox, and got the story. By then the Valiant was nearly thirty lightyears off, and it turned out those popped ion tanks had shoved them off course, but because there's nothing to navigate by in subspace, nobody knew by how much or even in what direction. The rescue ship couldn't stay in subspace more than a day, so they popped back out at Prox and told Earth what was going on. Everybody did everything they could, but—well, there was just nothing that could be done. They were gone. Nothing could catch them, nothing could even find them. They were just stuck in subspace. Forever."
"It was fucked," Sam said. "Because like, y'know, time is shorter—longer? In subspace?"
"Technically denser," said Cameesha.
"I'm too drunk for that bullshit," said Emma.
"Point is, like, one day in subspace is ten days up here. So a ship, right, a ship with enough supplies to keep everybody alive for—for—for three months, right, that's nine hundred days, up here. That's like three years. For three years, every time you popped into subspace, you could talk to the Valiant on the queck."
"Except it wasn't three years," said Cameesha. "It was two. Because one day the Valiant stopped responding."
"Here's the ghost story," said Emma. "Oh boy, here we go."
"It wasn't that the queck was broken, right, because quecks don't break," said Cameesha. "They just stopped talking to us. Nobody knew what'd happened. It'd been a matter of hours for them, couple of days for us. But something changed. They weren't communicating with Earth anymore."
"This does not sound like ghost story," Sasha said. "This sounds like other, much better kind of story. Nobody knows what is in subspace. Maybe they got communication. Maybe somebody else found them, rescued them."
"Oh, just wait," said Sam. "Just wait, because this is fucked up."
"Earth was pretty desperate to find out what'd happened," said Cameesha. "And yeah, maybe partially it was because of the possibility of communication—we hadn't even found Akaste at that point—but the Valiant just. Wouldn't. Answer. They'd been adrift for about two months, their time. Supplies would've been running thin, but they shouldn't've been out yet. People'd been speculating for months about whether they'd all kill themselves or if they'd resort to cannibalism or some combination of the two. Jonestown versus Donner party, sort of a thing. You know."
"I do not know either of those things," Sasha said.
"You don't want to," Sam assured her. "Cult mass-suicide versus wilderness cannibalism, nasty nasty stuff."
"Oh," said Sasha, wrinkling her nose.
"Unpleasant. Most people were hoping for Jonestown, honestly, because it would've been neater," Cameesha said. "But okay, here's the thing: the Valiant wasn't responding, but the quecks were still working. People in subspace started hearing things. Voices. Conversations. Coming through the quecks. Like there were people talking in the same room, but not actually to Earth."
"Did they figure out what happened?" Emma asked, sounding queasy.
"No," said Cameesha, "that's the thing. People listened and recorded and analyzed all to hell, but the best they could get was a few words here or there. There was some kind of distortion, which shouldn't happen, because, y'know, quantum entangled communicators don't get interference. That's the point. There's no signal to interfere with."
"From what we understand," Sasha muttered. She had a sip of moonshine-laced root beer.
"Sure," said Cameesha. "Anyway. This went on for about a year, our time. We figured that's about when they should've run out of supplies. Maybe they could've made it stretch for another few months, especially if they went full-on Donner, but it shouldn't've been much longer than that. We kept trying to communicate. They kept not responding. We kept hearing voices."
"And?" said Emma.
"And we kept hearing voices," Cameesha said, her voice dropping menacingly. "For ten. Years."
Emma's eyes got very big. She gulped. Even Sam got a tingle in the pit of her stomach, despite having heard the story before.
"The same thing. On and on, just those distorted voices coming through on the Valiant's queck frequency. At one lightyear every four days, they were over nine hundred lightyears out."
"Shit," said Emma. "That's like—that's like intergalactic, right?"
"Not even close," said Cameesha. "It's at least twenty thousand lightyears to the edge of the Milky Way from Earth. Even if they'd been going perpendicular to the plane, that's still, like . . . I dunno, a thousand lightyears? But they weren't going perpendicular. The galaxy's really fucking big, yeah?"
"Fuck," Emma said under her breath, apparently having the vastness of space dawn on her anew. Sam was a little staggered herself.
"Still," said Cameesha. "Really goddamn far. Farther than anyone's ever been, or likely to go. Whatever had happened, it'd either killed them after only two months, or kept them alive for seven months longer than they should've lasted. We never could work out what they were saying. Eventually we just stopped using that queck frequency, so we wouldn't have to hear. There's people who claim to have tuned quecks to it, right, while they're in subspace, and they say you can still hear it."
"How . . . how long it has been?" Sasha asked, sounding a little faint.
"The Valiant engaged its worm drive bound for Proxima Centauri on December third, twenty-one ninety-eight," Cameesha said. "Two hundred and four years ago."
Sam shuddered, breaking out in goosebumps.
"Nope!" Emma said, shaking her head. "Nooooope, no, that's too freaky. Too too freaky by far. No sir, I don't like that."
"Twenty years, for Valiant crew," Sasha mused. "Plausible, if found some way to make food. Or if had some kind of help."
"What help?" Cameesha demanded. "There's nothing in subspace."
"Of that we know," said Sasha. "Maybe very very far out, is something. Maybe something Valiant found."
"Ope, buckle up, Cameesha, get ready for the X-Files Special," said Emma.
"Do not make fun of me," said Sasha. "Universe is unimaginably huge. Yes? Cameesha, you know this."
"Ye-es," Cameesha said, wary. "Sort of mind-bogglingly huge, if I'm honest."
"Right," said Sasha. "So. We do not know everything in Universe. Cannot. Is not impossible there is more life than just us and Akasteans. Yes?"
"Honestly, it's almost impossible there's not more than just us," said Cameesha. "I mean. In a spherical universe with a diameter of thirteen billion lightyears, finding other life only thirty away is like . . . going out looking for gold and treading on a nugget on the first step out the door. You'd imagine the place must be absolutely littered with it."
"Yes, yes," Sasha said, her excitement mounting. "And some parts of Universe are very very old. Yes? Some stars burning for billions of years already before Earth even born. Yes?"
"Yeah, you've got some main-sequence dwarf stars that're ten billion years old already," said Cameesha. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Where're you going with this?"
"Humanity only has fifteen thousand years-ish, to do everything," said Sasha. "Earth life, four-ish billion to get from teensy tinesy cell to space stations. So, somebody else, with much much older star, has much much more time. More time. To do everything we do. In another billion years, where is humanity? Sun is not dead, Sun has four billion more years to be just fine. Earth is not dead, although maybe cooler, I don't know, I am not geologist. Where we will be? Where somebody else could be, with all of this time?"
"Highly speculative, at best," said Cameesha. "But I'll acknowledge that it's possible. So why haven't we run into these highly-advanced beings? Are they just too far off?"
Sasha shook her head. "No," she said. "Already we have encountered them. Already they watch us and give guides. Maybe they rescue Valiant, with subspace technologies we do not have. Involvement must be minimum, because we are baby birds, must learn to fly on our own."
"Can't violate the prime directive," Emma mumbled.
"That's a bit of a reach," said Cameesha.
"But you cannot deny is possible," said Sasha.
"No, of course I can't," said Cameesha. "Just like I can't prove the nonexistence of anything in the universe. You can't prove a negative. Where's your evidence that they do exist? These—hyper-beings, or whatever."
"How else Akasteans suddenly figure out how to write English?" Sasha said.
"By studying it?" Cameesha suggested.
"Maybe. I do not think so."
"You'll never convince her, Cameesha," Sam said. "She's unshakeable. Before this it was worm drives she thought were extraterrestrially derived."
"In part," Sasha said curtly. "How else somebody would figure out subspace even exists? Requires too much foreknowledge. Accelerate suddenly to light-speed, vwoosh, suddenly in secret under-dimension where speed of light is faster, cannot get back out unless you slow down again? How somebody figures this out? Is not realistic."
"With particle accelerators," Cameesha said. "There's literature on this. Bloody reams of it. Also, subspace isn't an under-dimension, it's a—an inside-dimension. Also also, the speed of light isn't faster in subspace, the space is denser."
"But there's nothing there?" Emma said, frowning.
"Right," said Cameesha. "But the nothing is less dense, so light covers more distance whilst moving at the same, fixed speed."
"I'm too drunk for this," Emma said again.
"I'm not drunk enough," said Sam. "I can barely wrap my head around the main spire having a fixed orientation."
Cameesha went suddenly stiff.
"The what?" she said.
"Yeah, the main spire, the big oval thing in the middle of the station," said Sam, gesturing vaguely. "The rings spin, but it doesn't. Something to do with the field generators, I think. They're designed so that Three, Four, Seven, and Eight are always facing Rhodea, and the other four are always facing Beta Com."
"That's it," Cameesha whispered, her eyes going so wide that white showed all the way around them. She leapt to her feet. "That's it!"
"What, what's it?" Sam said. Cameesha was already out the door. She caught herself on the lintel and leaned her head back into the room.
"It wasn't an accident!" she cried, and sprinted away.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Sam called after her, but she was long gone.
"I'm wayyyyyy too drunk for this," Emma said, rolling up onto an elbow and shaking her head. "What's going on? Why is the orbital mechanic freaking out?"
"Oh, shoot," Sasha said quietly. "I think I know what she means."
"Please, enlighten us," Sam said, exasperated.
Sasha looked up at her. Her skin had gone waxy. She gulped.
"She means Orion," she said.
Sam stared at her. Emma stared at her. A square of sunlight slid placidly across the wall like a time-lapse video.
As one, they all three scrambled to their feet and took off after Cameesha.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
September Reading Roundup
Will Self, The Book of Dave.
So after my August of almost exclusively lady books, I've kicked off with a Geezer. Not just a male writer, an actual fucking Geezer. I love Will Self, and would highly recommend The Quantum Theory of Insanity, and The Butt, works of his I've previously enjoyed. I'd have picked this up from the free books box outside of Stella's Voice in North end based on my previous enjoyment alone, but a friend of mine, Tim who was one of my favourite regulars in The Whippet, the first pub I helped manage and therefore always my first love, once recommended it to me on a snowy Sunday, when he and I were the only people in the bar and I was line-cleaning and chomping at the bit for handover so he and I could go drinking.
I had several friendships in that pub where I'd give out, and receive books in that pub (blame it on the Bloomsbury postcode I guess), and take and give recommendations. Tim, on this Sunday, was waxing absolutely lyrical about this one, and the concept, the idea of a future society finding a book written by a London cab driver and forming a religion and a society surrounding it, really appealed to me.
I wasn't disappointed, but the novel was definitely different to my expectations, as is often the case when you come to a book with preconceptions (I see you Wuthering Heights, I fucking see you). It's part Ridley Walker, part an 'It's all a load of Fackin' Bollocks MAAAATE' yowl into the abyss. It hops between a post-disaster pastoral society with a rigid hierarchy and cockney-rooted chaucerian dialect, and a despicably unlikeable but sympathetic North London pleb of a taxi driver experiencing an inarticulate masculine fury at his distinctly class struggle related breakdown, which he channels through the only set of rules that make sense to him; The Knowledge (for the uninitiated, The Knowledge is the test London cab drivers undergo in order to qualify).
I'm still a sucker for a London novel of any description, but I fall very much in love with those that described the tired, angry thoughts of its underclasses, because reader, I was one. Despite my education and self awareness, I've felt that snarling, visceral 'FFFFUUUUUCK YOUUUU' that can only rise in your gut in a city that thanklessly grinds you down and through it for the benefit of others until you're basically used up. I'm not as exciting a prospect to read as Dave Rudman because university and therapy have made me too irritatingly self-aware, and too keyed into the emotional jargon of our times. I'm dull because I can talk about hierarchies of needs and hegemonic struggle and how they impact my mental health as a member of the working class. I can voice discontent in safe terms that you already know. The beauty of Dave Rudman is he knows his life is bullshit, and he's surrounded by cunts, but he struggles with the articulation of why and how this is unfair. As his psychiatrist puts it:
'For, while many of the patients who shuffled into his consulting room were emotional malingerers - unwilling to turn up for any of life's feelings - this big, raw boned fellow was reeling. He doesn't have either the wit or the imagination to know what's happening.'
There's a beautiful symmetry in the novel. Dave's 'we're fucked and if everyone would just listen to me i'd sort it ahhhht' working class masculinity (my late stepdad was a real one for that, I'm so familiar with it I could cry), contrasted with the society that takes his unlistened-to working class voice as gospel but ultimately is just as unfair, taking his disenfranchisement-born misogyny to drastic conclusions, is powerful, and grabs your gut. We feel bad when nobody is listening to our Dave, but we're simultaneously confronted with the horrific reality of what happens when his rage at women, born of what contemporary life is doing to his masculinity and sense of self, is taken seriously.
It's not a happy book, staring directly into the face of the impossibility of self expression, or at least the lack of access to it that the majority of society has. it directly looks to the ways in which we fuck up and get angry at the wrong things when our core identity is assaulted on every side, and how unfair and misguided that really is if you logically played out the redressings of those imagined balances. The modern world is presented as fragmented and irredeemable, the future a feudal dystopia of racial divide, illiteracy, and poverty.
There's no shred of hope in this book, even in Dave's regret-fuelled about face, and the insurrection it could cause in the future were it listened to. But it definitely has laughs, as all darkness does. And much like the kind of much-maligned working class character Self breathes life beyond trope-dom into, it tells it like it is. This bleak realtalks made me oddly nostalgic; for the peculiarly London form of contempt you can only feel when you've racked up a sixteen hour day for little-to-no-money, and have to look at all the moneyed visitors and suburb-dwellers pumping their cash into tourist bottlenecks. It's a weird sense of superiority and knowledge you cling to to stop yourself feeling like as much of a mug as the people at the other end of the economic scale. In reality, you're all equally mugs, because the city always wins; but you feel like you really belong there and they're just visiting. Likewise, in reality, as we see in Dave's inability to transcend any of his social constraints in anyway, there's no joy in this small victory you give yourself, because if you do really belong there, there's nowhere else to go.
Shirley Jackson, Dark Tales.
A present from my friend Zachery, on a visit to Portsmouth on a sunny Monday that feels like forever ago now. Don't you just love it when someone slings you a book to read? Tells you not just about them, but about what they know of, or think of, you, too. I'm totally including this in September's books, as I did start it then, despite finishing it in October. It's been a slow month for reading while I try and figure out a work-life balance, so I'm being kind to myself. It was passed my way because, in an accurate educated guess, it was determined to be my kind of thing.
Oh BOY is it. I love anything creepy and dark, to the point where when people get to know me better, the witch jokes come thick and fast. I'm particularly obsessed with women who are obsessed with death (Lana del Rey, Florence Welch, Sylvia Plath, American Horror Story Coven, I'm looking at you here), and Shirley Jackson is one dark motherfucker. I particularly love a good slab of American gothic, and having read all these stories I'd undoubtedly say that these are Jackson's strength. There were stories in there about getting lost in the woods, and ghosts and so on, but I could decidedly have taken or left them, particularly as I find ghost stories inevitably have the same quasi-Victorian conclusions.
Her strongest efforts, if you ask me, are the ones about malcontent simmering under the surface of classically American tropes, small-town life, country summer idylls, young marrieds in the big city, that kind of thing. The lapsed literature student in me wants to point out that these stories could be used as fantastic allegorical examples of the rotten core lurking within the American dream, which let's face it, is a fair shout, but more simply put, that workaday surface is a fundamental part of what makes the stories so deeply disconcerting. In the same way that the workaday rhythms and relatability of a Bruce Springsteen song or a Raymond Carver short are so emotionally powerful because their narratives could be and are, playing themselves out time after time in towns across America, so Jackson's are terrifying because we, the readers think to ourselves, probably so are hers.
We tell ourselves 'it's just a story', but it's harder to do when the characters are so intricately and cleverly made real by their intentional stock quality. And we're so fascinated with her characters for the same reason we're still fascinated with Ted Bundy; because he was innocuous and unnoticeable enough to have gotten away with it for so long. It's far less scary to have our demons look like demons that to imagine them buying milk from the same grocers as us.
I usually treat short stories as small dose thought-provokers to read over a morning coffee, consuming them in tandem with whatever else I have on the go, but a combination of me having less attention to pay, and these commanding it so strongly meant that wasn't really the case this time, and I'd highly recommend getting these under your belt. I wouldn't say I could think of another writer who has made me feel genuinely disconcerted in a long time, and given that horror is a genre in which most of the tropes have been played out in every which way they figuratively can, Jackson still manages to generate a sense of the unexpected in her tales that I haven't encountered elsewhere in a long time.
#meditations in austerity#september reading#personal blog#will self#Shirley jackson#books#literature#reading#currently reading#literature blog#now reading#horror stories#American writers#English writers
0 notes
Text
Punchy-liney episode seven: Clever writing is doing the same thing over and over again and explaining every little bit of it every single time.
Seriously, this is dumb.
So the entire point of the fucking time loop plot is you're supposed to be trying to fight fate, change the future, fight against inevitability, right?? So of course the fucking first thing you need to have is a furry little plot device showing up and telling you you can't change anything except what's arbitrarily allowed, which is... so far nothing, becaue the plot says so and the writers are too god-awful to actually write a scenario where the scenario itself has something working against the main character to make achieving their goal difficult, so we have to have a "because I said so" roadblock shoved in there. FUCK.
So it's just a bunch of Yuuta hanging around going "oy boy wow i sure do remember then this happeninged" and fucking doing nothing of value. Except, you know, doing the same shit we've already seen OVER AND OVER AGAIN!
Yoota gets all fucking upset over writing the stupid fucking pun in the stupid book because it means so muuuuuuuuch- no, it fucking doesn't, you only saw it briefly once just about an hour ago from your point of view and it's some dumb shit anyway. Just draw a bunch of dicks in it.
So this random apartment of grils and their fucking friendships is the most iipootaat thing in the universe? Why? Boy it sure would have been nice if these assholes had been, like, developed into interesting likeable characters during the first half of the show or something, right??
How the fuck's this supposed to stop the fucking meteor
So is the only reason the previous Yuutas have failed because they didn't follow the cat's orders well enough? Not because of any actual challenges but because following instructions is just too damn hard? What the *fuck*?
Yuuta tries to keep his ghost self from blowing up, goes into Ito's room... she immediately goes full retard, not even just over the panty shot but trying to take the door of its fucking hinges just because it wouldn't immediately open. What the fuck? Why are we supposed to like this psycho again?
And then he gropes Juicey's juicy tiddies and that doesn't activate his power even though a fucking picture of lil babby pumpkin panties did because why
Speaking of plot devices that make no damn sense, how does ghost-Yuuta's quantum ghost time-travel work when someone can see him? Or are we just going to ignore that plot hole because now-Yuuta saved ghost-Yuuta from blowing his top all of once?
And why did he even bother to try and save ghost-him? He knows there's no point... unless the way the quantum bullshit works means he'd actually get the meteoric bad end his ghost self could just go back from, BUT IF THAT WAS THE CASE THEN HE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ON THE ROOF AT THE END OF EPISODE SIX... GUIGSUUESIUUUEUEEUUURRRRRRRRRFGGHFGGFFGFh
And then suddenly becoming Ubermensch Aryan why the fuck did they call it that anyway just fucking inexplicably changes the way your soul is attached to your body in some overly complicated way that's just explained to the audience in way too much dialogue, because the plot of this show was written without any mind to actual coherency and we have to explain how the one thing happened one way one time and another way the other time so we have to add in ad-hoc """explanations""" later on and pretend it's all really genius.
Better yet with the body swap reveal coming up at some point they could have just handwaved this somehow for now and had it later turn out that event left Yuuta's soul (as well as Juice-tan and the other one) less well-attached to the body it's currently in than a normal person's. YOU KNOW, SOME MOTHER FUCKING FORESHADOWING.
Oh, actually just kidding. I paused the episode to write that and something dumb happened immediately after I hit play
"Don't you remember, that one time you switched bodies with a bunch of your closest friends you never saw again after that?" You'd think someone, anyone, would have fucking mentioned this before, or fucking alluded to it, or the mere fact of its factuality would have exerted some influence on the events that followed from it... but no, not really. Just, fucking... casually remember that one time something fucking extraordinary happened that has a huge impact on the plot that we haven't even mentioned up until now. Ha ha.
NO, DON'T FUCKING EXPLAIN THE FUCKING SIMPLE OBVIOUS THING THE MAIN CHARACTER JUST DEMONSTRATED HE FUCKING REMEMBERS ANYWAY LIKE IT'S ANYTHING FUCKING INTERESTING AT ALL WHILE MAKING IT SOUND ACTUALLY COMLPICATED. You know what fucking happened here? All that fucking happened is the writers made a fucking Excel spreadsheet, right, they filled in three fucking rows of the sheet with the kids' names, and then they fucking... rotated... the list... once........... HOW CAN THIS BE SO FUCKING BAD????
This isn't the slightest bit complicated aside from the overwrought bullshit surrounding and enabling it while obfuscating the gaping plot holes that exist in what the writers want to do... because, I don't know, they're too fucking hackish to rework their simplistic fucking immediate ideas to work with a coherent underpinning. The fucking reveal was these three kids who we know little to nothing about and have NO FUCKING REASON TO CARE ABOUT got their souls shuffled around in a fucking obvious fashion (because there's only three of them and there's only two ways it could have possibly come out), and that's... it. That's... really fucking boring as your ultimate plot reveal. This is not worth all the fucking convoluted fucking shit that was required to justify it.
Like, here, let me just make this immediately better: Juice-tan is wimpy girl in pink-haired girl's body, the other one is pink-haired girl in the one guy's body- yeah, we leave those alone- but the trick is, Yuuta isn't Pine (what the fuck sort of name is pine anyway by the way) but some random blank-slate or even non-human soul that got succed into the wimpy girl's body when the crash happened. And the first thing that soul saw was the newly minted Juice-tan, who was traumatised and amnesiac due to what just happened and thus didn't recognise this used to be her body, leaning over (him/her/zip/zoom) and going all "are you okay??"... and thus the first character trait Yuuta develops is being in love with this girl. And Pine is the cat or something.
NOW FUCKING LOOK AT THIS SHIT. You just fucking develop the three kids as close-knit frienbs (though that would help no matter what the plot was), then you have this tragedy where the group can never get back together again, one of them's gone and another's a psycho villain, but despite this the remaining member finds new love in an unexpected place or something.
And yeah, it really just was a random fucking car accident that caused this, except the car also got struck by lightning! Why'd they all go Uber at that time anyway? Was the car they were taking an Uber service?
8: oh boy more same thign
oh wow yuuta didn't even go into the apartment to find pantsu he just went in there for no fucking reason and H-A-P-P-E-N-E-D to find them wow such good much writing w o w
is the villain's fucking "you wouldn't unerstaaaaand" plot just a muh next stage of human evolution plot? fuckin seriously? this is some fucking baby shit. this is babby's first villainous motive. this show doesn't fucking deserve to be compared to Higurashi with this shit
oh look more fucking tragic robot girl flashbacks and she repeats the thing about making gril a superhero and a superhero organisation with only one member that we've already fucking heard but now it's sad
tn: "punch" means "five" in hindu
Turns out Yuuta casually broke a man's limbs offscreen, because even men with vaginas randomly turn into fucking psychopaths when le cutey gril is in danger. Also breaking a man's limbs your damn self is okay but just two people dying who you don't even fucking know and who nobody you know likes is just sooooooooo baaaaaaaaaaddd
And then they try to play up the cat as sooo evil for saying "two lives are less important than seven billion!!" when... Yuuta just broke a man's limbs with his own damn hands... jesus christ
epitoad 9: "why did you keep this to yourself all this time, Pine?" "lol idek"
Juice-tan and Yuuta have an """emotional""" reconnection where he tells her something he knew all this fucking time and could have said whenthefuckever he felt like it but just didn't feel like it I guess
so now yuuta can just try really hard not to instantly cum when he sees a panties and it just somehow works now. as if we needed this to make any less sense.
yuuta goes and talks to a random bunch of leading physics-cists and they actually give him the time of day for whatever reason. all to know nuke bombs don't work in space. just look that shit up online dumbass
... It's amazing how much more pathetic some of these scenes are from the "proper" angle. Yuuta in his dumbass superhero costume just creeping on the roof IN PLAIN FUCKING SIGHT OF EVERYONE IF THEY'D JUST HAPPENED TO LOOK UP, and when the time comes he doesn't even jump into action or anything, he just stands up. It's so fucking WEAK. But it's clebverrrr because we did the thing where we watched him watch himself do the thign n now he do the thign we watched him watched himself do right ?????
More of our beloved hero being psychopathic and literally torturing a man by breaking his fingers and interrogating him... jesus fuck.
epipoo 10: how the fuck did yuuta survive and get back to the apartment
So it turn out, everything in this show could have been fixed by just tearing that little bit of tech off the satelight dish so the server hack isn't intercepted... just tell the current ghost-yuuta to tear the damn thing off the satelite dish the day beforehand next time for fuck's sake... but noooooo, saving the world is just so fucking hard wow
no one cares about these fucking kids and their dumb pseudo-romances. guriko or whichever the fuc the brunette was was a whiny little bitch. She gets into a screaming-crying match with the other girl over some toy, sits there and screams about it, then when Pine notices she hurt herself (or the other girl hurt her) in the fight and tries to help, she screams at him and demands the other girl come back and help her instead. Holy shit.
"originally it was supposed to be-" You see how fucking boring this shit is? We know exactly how the three of them swapped bodies, but you have to have Mr. Creepy McFuckNuts tell us this shit all over again like it's something that's just sooo hard to grasp when it's... so fucking simple... and it's not even in a way that gives his, her, its or zgeir'z unique perspective on it (like "I'm supposed to be in your body, but instead I'm..."), it's just... the fucking list.
chiyoo throws yuuta who she just found out was her long-lost friend pine into a fucking statue and has the gall to cry about "muh precious frienb!!" over ito... I feel like I'm watching that Diverisy and Comics video about Kim and Kim again. That's what this feels like.
meanwhile gurio goes through the five stage of anime angst in like an instant. "I have so much power! But... I'm so lonely..... :'("
"the guriko i love!!!!!" she cries over someone all we've seen of them recently is them being a whiny little bitch
and then yuuta goes fucking insane and destroys his room. and then has a bunch of le emotional flashbacks over characters we don't care about who have been demonstrated to be violent and uncaring toward him. lol. this is so fucking dumb
AND THEN WE'RE ALL REVED UP TO DO THE EXACT. SAME. FUCKING. THING. FUCKING AGAIN. Just.. what the fuck is Yuuta actually supposed to *do* about any of this? If he just broke the robot girl's computer or took the interceptor thing off the satelite dish everything would be fine, but he's not allowed to do that because... reasons.......????? So what the fuck is he supposed to do? What *sequence of events* is supposed to lead to the probem being over when he's not allowed to just... fucking... solve the probem??
Well whatever it is, I'm sure it's convoluted, retarded and utterly nonsensical. Everyone responsible for this shitshow needs to be fucking euthanized, for the good of humanity.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
imperishable-prayers
Girls do their best now and are preparing.
ranizakhem
Untitled
imperishable-prayers
Girls do their best now and are preparing.
laviniamirage
Kendi kendime konuşuyorum.
littlemoonglow
Little Moonglow