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#anyways here's my opinion
solarpunkani · 11 months
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You know what, while I'm doing hot takes. And this one may be obvious considering I'm actively contributing to hosting the Solarpunk Aesthetic Week event but like.
Dear everyone who's constantly deriding the aesthetic portions of the solarpunk movement/genre; do you just not understand that being able to visualize the future you want is immensely important to being able to work towards it? Being able to get other people on board with it?
When I first got interested in Solarpunk, it wasn't for the hot leftist takes about the top ways to dismantle the government for the people, or top tips on how to build your own solar panel apparatuses. What brought me in? Visions of a hopeful future. I learned and began to love the rest as I dove deeper into solarpunk circles, but there is no denying that my first intro to it--and likely many people's first intro to it--was via the art and aesthetic spheres. The term 'solarpunk' was literally coined to refer to the aesthetic movement, and we've been building up from there ever since.
'When are people going to realize the aesthetic parts don't matter and what really matters is praxis--' dude, the aesthetic parts do matter. Inspiring people does matter. Showing people visions of a hopeful future is immensely important, it's why so many people join this movement. We see glimpses of what a hopeful future could look like, through beautiful art or riveting stories, we're inspired by things like stained glass and organic designs and statues and fashion concepts--and then we think to ourselves 'how can we help make this future happen?' And we learn the praxis and we work towards the goals and we share it with others because that's just how we work.
Seeing isn't always believing, but sometimes in order to believe in something with your whole heart, it helps to be able to visualize what you want. For yourself and for others.
So yes. The aesthetic parts of solarpunk do matter. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.
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theminecraftbee · 4 months
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task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.
Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.
Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.
Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.
Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.
Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.
Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!
Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.
Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.
Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!
Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?
Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?
Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.
Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?
BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.
Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
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fumifooms · 3 months
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Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.
His grey hairs are so earned
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#Chilchuck tims#dungeon meshi#analysis#HAPPY CHILCHUCK DAY#You know what yeah understandable have a good day#Alcohol be a ticket straight to chilling out town I suppose#Spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#Thinking on if I should split my family masterpost into diff posts for max reach hmm#Anyways I’m def editing in the second page into that post that “I’ve got three people to think of here” sounds sooo much like that’s#How he’d think about it in a family setting as well. He works so hard for them 🥺#I could have put 100 pics on this post to justify everything I mentioned but this is a speedrun for a reason. I’m planning so many#Compilations rn i need a break from rereading lol#He’s just here to do his work!! He just wanna do his work!!!#I’m always rotating him in my brain like rotisserie chicken :( Hopefully this doesn’t sound disjointed or insane to average readers#He’s always on his guard so he has a short fuse and his type of humor & liking for snarky remarks doesn’t help#Also bc he knows nothing lasts he has a very work hard play hard mentality where ‘dying doing something you love. Like drinking’#Is nice in his opinion#This post makes it all sound so dry. Chilchuck is so messy thinking about him is thrilling I swear. This is concise but at what cost…#OH ALSO he has weird self-hate issues where he really values his skills but devalues himself on a personal level.#‘I am a coward. I only care about myself. I cheated on my wife (lying for no reason)’ etc etc#Can’t disappoint people and make them leave you if they already have no expectations and esteem of you 😏💡
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dennisboobs · 4 months
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7x10 // How Mac Got Fat
↳ Charlie & Dennis + getting high together
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sourscratched · 5 months
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some sid snapshots from the fantanimaland eps
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titsthedamnseason · 1 month
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eras tour lookbook: my favorites edition
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lionbearfox · 1 year
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just read all of csm in one day and im not ready to start unpacking that emotionally so here is a meme
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sonknuxadow · 6 months
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there is no secret 6th option i am specifically asking who is your favorite out of these guys
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adriles · 8 months
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My Deep Desire To Be Remembered For My Honor And Sick Fighting Skills And My All Consuming Rage Brought On By Grief Have Collided In A Horrible Fire Ball
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tipannies · 1 year
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백현이 인생네컷 📸 W Korea Selfie Booth
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bookwyrminspiration · 6 months
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Transcript of The Trade, the Marella KOTLC short story (Including the author introduction)
Note: OG pictures taken by Kenna!, provided by @fintan-pyren. Some words are obscured and the transcript may contain errors. Neverless, I hope this is useful to anyone who may need/want it :)
Hello, wonderful Keeper readers! Some of you might already know that I love to sneak a little something extra into the paperback versions of my books whenever I can (since I don't think hardcover readers should get to be the only ones who sometimes find fun bonuses). For those who didn't know that: surprise! :)
I knew I wanted to include a story from Marella's POV this time. Not only is she on the cover (looking fierce and fabulous!) and a fan-favorite character, but she also had some key scenes in Stellarlune that we only got to "hear" about. The Keeper books are limited to Sophie's POV, so I can only include moments where Sophie is present--and since Sophie didn't go with Marella to her meetings with Fintan, we only learn what Marella tells Sophie later. But what if there was something Marella didn't share?
Over the next few pages, you can watch one of Marella's conversations with Fintan play out in real time and hear all Marella's thoughts and reactions to what's happening. I've called this story "The Trade"--and I've worked in lots of fun little extra details (some of which might even turn out to be important later...*wink*).
For those wondering, this story is based a [sic] scene in chapter 31 of Stellarlune--and if you haven't read Stellarlune yet: SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! Reading this first will probably be confusing and will also give away a few tidbits too early. You'll be much happier if you start by reading Stellarlune and then come back here for all the Marella fun once you're done!
Happy reading! [shannon's signature]
~
"Ugh, I hate this place," Marella muttered, shaking the freshly fallen snowflakes out of her gilded blond hair much harder than necessary and yanking her thick velvet cape tighter around her narrow shoulders.
She said the same thing every time she had to trudge through the knee-high snowdrifts and found herself staring at the icicle-crusted entrance to the now familiar cave.
Didn't matter how many times she'd gone there--or how important her visits were. She was never not going to dread making the long, slippery trek down to Fintan's frozen cell.
The cave looked like some sort of open-mouthed snow beast waiting to devour everything in its path--which was probably intentional, since the prison was designed to be as miserable as possible.
Especially for someone like her.
The goblin guards even gave her pitying stares as they moved aside to reveal the endless icy path that wound down and down--and down a whole lot more--to a place where the tiniest glimmer of heat had long since been swallowed up by the suffocating cold.
No amount of clothing could keep Marella warm in the heart of the prison She'd actually tried wearing so many layers that she'd looked like an overstuffed gulon--and she still couldn't stop shivering. And the whole "body temperature regulation" thing wasn't exactly possible when she had to use so much concentration to make sense of Fintan's ranting.
it wasn't fair.
Everyone else got to train their special abilities in fancy rooms at Foxfire, with Mentors who weren't creepy, unstable murderers.
But they weren't Pyrokinetics.
Marella was lucky the Council was letting her use her ability at all.
They could just as easily label her Talentless, kick her out of their snobby academy, and ban her from ever sparking another flame.
Or they could decide she was too dangerous and lock her away.
in fact, Marella wouldn't have been surprised at all if the Council was already building an icy cage just for her--but the thought still made her shiver and wish she could've manifested as...
Nope.
She stopped herself from finishing that sentence.
If life had taught her anything, it was that there's no point wanting things that were never going to happen.
Instead, she focused on the thin beams of sunlight streaking through a gap in the gloomy gray clouds. The light was far from warm, but if she really concentrated, she could feel a hint of lingering heat tangled among the brightness.
She called the warmth closer and soaked it in--let it pool under her skin, pounding with her pulse, swelling with every heartbeat. Growing hotter and hotter and hotter until...
Snap!
A flick of her fingers sent a small tangle of flames sparking to life above her left palm.
"Feel better?" Linh asked as Marella let out a long, slow sigh.
Marella nodded--though she definitely could've done without the whispered that were now hissing around her head.
The flames had a soft, crackly voice. And they always made the same plea.
Feed me.
Feed me.
Feed me.
Fire craved fuel--constantly wanting more, more, more--and it would've been so easy for Marella to let the fire swell bigger and bigger and bigger.
But that was the kind of thing that would lead to a lifetime of shivering in an underground ice cube, so she forced her gaze to shift to Linh, who stood in a small, snowless circle surrounded by a halo of hovering snowflakes---none daring to touch her long silver-tipped hair or shimmery purple cape.
Marella knew how hard Linh had fought to achieve that level of control, and how tentative Linh's hold over her ability still was. But the fact Linh could stand in a sea of frozen water and do nothing except keep the falling snow from settling on her flushed pink cheeks was very...
Annoying.
Then again, everyone annoyed Marella a little.
Her dad used to call her "fiery" long before he realized how accurate that description truly was.
But it wasn't Marella's fault!
People tended to be annoying.
Especially a Hydrokinetic who was currently looking all peaceful and pretty and perfect while making snowflakes flutter and spin in intricate patterns.
That didn't mean Marella wasn't also grateful that Linh was willing to tag along to her Pyrokinetic lessons. it was nice to see a friendly face after hours of Fintan's rambling. Plus, it seemed like a good idea to have someone with water powers around while she practiced setting things on fire.
They were even finding some pretty cool ways to work together. Fire and water might be opposites--but that didn't mean they couldn't be combined. Marella had actually figured out a way to ignite Linh's rain, and she couldn't wait to use that little trick on the Neverseen--assuming those black-cloaked losers ever showed up again.
For a fearsome, unstoppable rebellion, they sure spend a lot of time hiding.
"Are you going to start by asking him about the cache or do the lesson first?" Linh asked, reminding Marella why they were there.
Marella shrugged. "Depends on Fintan's mood."
Sometimes he was already babbling about some fancy new fire trick when she arrived, as if he'd started the lesson without bothering to wait for her. Other times she couldn't get anywhere with him until she'd let him go on and on and on about how foolish the Council was, or how badly he'd been wronged, or how much he missed the feel of a flickering flame--and she didn't necessarily blame him for the last one.
Part of her wanted to hold on to her fireball forever.
Make it her smoky little pet.
Instead, she curled her fingers into a fist and snuffed it out--but she didn't let all the heat dissipate. She called a single tingling glint deeper, letting it sear through her veins and settle into her heart.
She knew it was a risky move, even with all the defenses she wrapped around it. But she couldn't bear the cold emptiness of Fintan's prison without a least a tiny fleck of warmth tucked away.
A secret spark whispering, I'm here. You're not alone.
"Okay," she said, weaving a few strands of her hair together to clam her twitchy fingers. She'd picked up the nervous habit years ago--after her mom's accident--and the tiny braids were kind of her trademark now. "i guess I should stop stalling and head down to deal with Sir Creepysparks, huh?"
Linh smiled. "Probably. Unless you want to rehearse what you're going to say."
"Nah. I'm just going to offer him an ugly flower--that doesn't exactly need a big speech. Oh, but that reminds me..."
She reached into her cape pocket and pulled out the spiky dark blue Noxflare--which looked more like a dying weed than a super-rare flower--and held it up to the guards. "Mr. Forkle already checked this before I brought it here, to make sure it's safe for me to offer to Fintan. but I figured you'd want to check it too."
"We do," they agreed in unison as one of the biggest, deadliest-looking guards took the Noxflare from Marella and brought it over to the other goblins.
A lot of mumbling about potential kindling and fire hazards followed.
Eventually, the guards decided to quick-freeze the Noxflare into a block of ice in case there was any heat stored inside.
"Whoa," Marella said when the scary guard returned with the flower-filled ice cube--which had turned out as big as her head. "How heavy is that thing?"
The guard studied Marella's skinny arms. "I can carry it for you if you'd like."
"That's probably be smart." Marella was pretty sure she'd drop it, or her fingers would freeze off during the long walk--and using telekinesis would drain her mental energy. "But can you stay out of sight? I was planning to tell Fintan he can only see his weird flower thing if he gives me access to his memories, and that's kinda ruined if there's a giant goblin holding it right next to me.
Not that it made the plan any less pointless.
Fintan was obviously going to turn her down.
He's already made it super clear that the only trade he was interested in was for his freedom--which was never going to happen.
Marella doubted a dying flower frozen in ice was suddenly going to make him be like, You know what? Who needs out of this horrible prison when I can have that!
But she was out of other ideas.
And Sophie wanted her to try the Noxflare thing, so...
Whatever.
Marella didn't care about Sophie's current power trip the way Stina did.
As long as she didn't have to be the one coming up with all the plans--or almost dying all the time--Marella was fine following orders. Especially if she got to say I told you so when they turned out to be a huge waste of time.
"Sure you don't want me to come with you?" Linh asked as Marella pulled thick gloves onto her hands. "Fintan likes me."
Marella wasn't sure if "like" was the right word, since Fintan didn't seem to like anybody. But he'd definitely been impressed with Linh.
He'd demanded to speak with "the Hydrokinetic" after Marella mentioned she practiced her pyrokinesis with Linh, so Marella had convinced the goblin guards to let Linh down into the prison. And when Fintan asked for a demonstration of Linh's ability to ensure she wouldn't "hinder his training," Linh had stirred up all the ice shards on his floor and made them rain around him like he was trapped inside a snow globe--which actually made him applaud.
Apparently, most Hydrokinetics struggled to manipulate water in its solid form, and were limited to liquid water or water vapor.
But not Linh.
Of course.
Marella was pretty sure that Linh was more powerful than any of her other friends.
"Well, if you need me, you know where to find me," Linh said as Marella forced her feet to carry her into the cave. "I'll just be here, making another snow menagerie." She flicker her wrist and wove the hovering snowflakes into a soaring alenon.
"Ugh, at least make some ugly creatures this time," Marella called over her shoulder. "I want to see a row of snow ghouls when I get back here. Or a giant Princess Purryfins!"
Linh gasped. "Princess Purryfins is not ugly! I'm going to tell her you said that!"
Marella laughed. "I'm sure you will."
She would've teased Linh more about her ridiculous obsession with her pet murcat, but the frigid air from the prison hit Marella hard, and she had to lock her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.
As least she didn't have to make the journey by herself this time.
Marella could hear the scary goblin guard keeping pace several steps behind her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim blue light cast by a series of glowing spheres dangling from the ceiling. The downward slope grew steeper with each winding curve, and Marella was always tempted to try sliding down the icy floor instead of walking--but she'd probably end up crashing into one of the weird ice thrones outside Fintan's cell. And she knew better than anyone that injuries couldn't always be healed.
Plus, the trudge gave her a chance to add extra defenses to the heat she'd tucked away in her chest.
She often wondered if Fintan had hidden a few sparks of his own when he was arrested. After all, he had to know the Council would put him on ice for the rest of eternity. Wouldn't he try to preserve what little heat he could?
But Marella had stretched out her senses a zillion different ways and never felt the slightest tingle of warmth when she was around him. So either there was nothing to find or Fintan was that good.
She had a horrible feeling it was the latter, and he was waiting for just the right moment to reveal his grand plan--but that wasn't the kind of thing she should be thinking about before having to face him.
Still, she spent the next few turn trying to figure out what she'd do if she were right.
Her feet turned numb while she plotted, and her bones were officially aching by the time the path widened-- the only warning that they were getting close to Fintan's cell.
A few curves later, his cage came into view: a stark, icy bubble in the center of a circular cavern.
The round wall was reflective on the inside, so even though Marella could see Fintan pacing along the edge of his frozen barricade, he wouldn't be able to see her until she triggered the sensor by sitting in one of the freezing thrones positioned at the only point Fintan could peer through.
He looked extra tired that day--his sky blue eyes sunken by more shadows than usual, and he kept muttering under his breath about incompetence as he tucked his messy blond hair behind his pointy ears with a bit more force than necessary.
Marella glanced back at the scary guard, making sure he'd ducked into the shadows near the back of the cell before she made her big appearance. Then she took a deep breath and pressed her hand against her heart, reaching for her secret spark of warmth one last time before plopping into the closest ice throne.
"Awwwww, looks like you missed me," she said, tossing back her hair and flashing her brightest smile.
She liked to start her visits by showing Fintan she wasn't afraid of him--even if she totally was.
But Fintan didn't glance her way.
"I'm not in the mood for games," he warned as he continued his slow march around his cell.
"Neither am I" Marella assured him, deciding that was her cue to start with the cache. She sat up taller, trying to look extra confident as she added, "But I do have an awesome trade to offer you!"
Fintan sighed. "If this is about my cache, I already told you what I'm willing to accept. Unless you're here to grant me a day of freedom--"
"I'm definitely not. But! I found something you should like even better." She paused, hoping the extra bit of anticipation would somehow make her offer should more exiting when she told him. "Noxflares!"
Fintan scrunched his slender nose. "What are Noxflares, and why would I care about them?"
Marella tilted her head, trying to tell if he was faking.
She hadn't expected him to jump around or applaud or anything--but she had expected him to at least know what Noxflares were.
Then again, his mind had been shattered and pieced back together so many times, his memories had to be in shambles--and Ancient minds tended to be a total mess anyway, since they were crammed with thousands of years of information and the past and present blurred together.
"Would it help if I told you I stopped by your old estate on my way here?" she asked, "Your garden could use some gnomish help, by the way. All the plants have turned into a giant dying tangle. But I dug around and managed to find this scraggly vine with dark pointy flowers--and I hear that plant is special to you, so I picked a few and--"
"You picked my Noxflares?" Fintan snapped, rushing to the wall of his cell and pressing his palms against the ice. "You must let me see them!"
Marella's lips curled into a huge smirk. "I thought you didn't know what they were."
Fintan gritted his teeth so hard, it sounded like cracking ice.
"Hey, I'm not saying I won't share. Buuuuuuuuuuut it'll cost you--and I'm pretty sure you can already guess what I want." She paused for another beat before she added, "Just so we're clear: I'll show you one of your Noxflares if you open your cache and show me what's inside."
Fintan's jaw tightened even more and his hands curled into fists.
But he didn't say no.
He didn't say anything--which was definitely new.
Marella had already offered him a long list of trade suggestions that she, Linh, Maruca, and Stina had all come up with--some really cool ones! And Fintan had shot down each one down before she could even finish the offer.
She couldn't believe he looked so tempted by an ugly flower.
but as the silence dragged on, Marella started to wonder if she'd misread the situation.
maybe she'd pushed him too hard--taunted him too much--and now Fintan was letting her sit there in the cold, knowing the icy throne was turning her butt and legs numb.
She was trying to decide if she could make standing up look like a power move when Fintan told her, "Fine. You have a deal--but since you're only offering one Noxflare, I'll only show you one memory."
Marella barely stopped herself from blurting out, SERIOUSLY?
"Orrrrrrrrrrrrrr," she said instead, wanting to kick herself for not bringing more Noxflares with her. The whole thing had just seemed so silly--and the first few she'd picked had crumbled to dust. But the vine had lots more flowers, so she could fix the mistake super easily. "How about I go back, grab eight more Noxflares, and then you show me all nine memories?"
Fintan grinned. "Tempting. But one Noxflare is really all I need."
Need?
Marella wasn't a fan of that wording.
But before she could ask him what he needed it for, he added, "My offer expires in ten seconds," and started counting down.
By "six" she decided that one memory was better than nothing.
"Fine," she said, pulling the cache from her pocket and holding the marble-size orb up to the light. "But you go first. How do I open this thing?"
No way was she going to risk letting him back out--especially since he probably wasn't going to be happy when he saw his precious flower was stuck in the middle of a giant ice cube.
Fintan held out his hand. "Give me the cache, and I'll open it."
Marella laughed. "Hard pass."
"Ah, but you don't have a choice. I'm the only one who can access the memories. And I need to make physical contact with the cache in order to do so."
Marella squinted at the tiny gadget.
She didn't know much about caches--aside from the fact that only Councillors used them and that each colorful inner crystal held a single Forgotten Secret. But she did know that Dex had already tried everything he could think of to open the cache and failed--and he was one of the best Technopaths ever.
"Do I need to start counting down again?" Fintan asked. "I believe we'd gotten to five..."
Marella chewed her lip. "Uh, how do I know you're not going to destroy the cache or try to hold it for ransom or something?"
Fintan's smile was colder than his cell. "You'll just have to trust me."
"Yeah, I don't see that happening."
Fintan shrugged. "Then our deal is off."
Marella rolled her eyes. "Come on. Even if I wanted to, it's not like I can open your cell door and hand the cache to you."
She wasn't even sure if his cell had a door. The wall looked like one big solid piece of ice.
"You've proven to be very resourceful during our lessons," Fintan reminded her.
"Yeah, but--"
"It's your call," he interrupted. "If you want a memory, you'll have to trust me."
She snort-laughed--but before she could get another word out, he repeated, "You'll just have to trust me." And she could tell that was the only response he was going to give.
She turned to the scary guard, who had started pacing in the shadows. "Is there a way to pass Fintan a small item?"
"Ah, you have a hidden goblin escort--I knew you were resourceful!" Fintan clapped his hands. "And yes, there is a way to pass me my cache, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it. Any guard can open the disgraceful tube they pass my horrid, frozen bits of food through. The cache should fit nicely."
The guard gripped his sword. "I cannot allow any unauthorized item to enter his cell."
Fintan clicked his tongue. "Clearly you're not considering the fact that I've already had plenty of chances to make this trade--and turned them all down. Do you think I would do that if the cache was even remotely useful to me?"
The goblin couldn't argue with that logic.
Neither could Marella.
And when Fintan went back to counting down, she told the guard, "The Black Swan knows I've been trying to make this trade--and they're working with the Council now. No one would let me do this if they thought the cache was dangerous."
Then again, they'd never discussed the possibility of handing the cache over to Fintan--but surely someone must've considered that during all their endless talking and obsessive overplanning...right?
Besides, if anything went wrong, she could always remind them that this was Sophie's idea.
"I don't like this," the scary guard growled. But Marella gave him her I-totally-know-what-I'm-doing glare until he set the frozen Noxflare down with a particularly dramatic thud, snatched the cache, and spent an eternity squinting at the tiny crystal, spinning it all different ways. "If anything happens, my priority will be subduing the prisoner--not protecting you. Are you certain you want to take that risk?"
Marella absolutely wasn't.
But...this might be their only shot at seeing one of Fintan's Forgotten Secrets.
Plus, she had her tiny little spark buddy she could call on if she needed. Surely she could use that to...
To what?
Take down a superpowerful, much more experienced Pyrokinetic with a history of murdering poeple?
But...did she really want to wimp out?
Sophie wouldn't.
And yeah, Sophie had, like, a permanent bed in the Healing Center. But Marella was pretty sure their whole group would vote "DO IT!"
There were also a dozen other armed goblins who would rush down as backup.
And Linh could attack Fintan with her cutesy snow animals.
It'd almost be worth it to watch Fintan get swallowed up by an ice wave shaped like Princess Purryfins.
"I can handle myself," she decided, using a tone that hopefully sounded intimidating.
Fintan's gleeful laughter echoed of the ice.
The scary guard muttered something about the arrogance of elves as he reached toward the top of Fintan's frozen cell and felt around for a specific spot. A faint clicking sound followed, and a tiny round door slid open--far out of Fintan's reach.
"I can neutralize you within seconds," the guard reminded him as he held the cache up to the opening. "By numerous means. Some far more painful than others."
"Yes, I'm well aware of the absurd lengths the Council has taken to keep me contained," Fintan assured him. "But I don't plan on giving you a reason to use any of them. Not today, at least."
The guard bared his supersharp pointy teeth, and Marella wanted to shout NEVER MIND, JUST KIDDING! But she let the guard shove the cache through the tiny opening--and then it was too late to change her mind.
All she could do was watch the glass orb make its slow descent, rolling around and around and around--down some sort of invisible path etched into the wall of the cell.
Her stomach backflipped with each rotation, and she felt more than a little vomit-y when the cache dropped low enough for Fintan to catch it. But he simply held it up and studied it.
Then he coughed on it.
And sneezed on it.
"Ewwwwwww," Marella groaned when he followed that up by drooling on it. "You know, there are better ways to give it your DNA."
"Yes, I'm aware." Fintan cleared his throat and launched a slimy blob of spit at the cache. "I also know your little Technopath friend is going to ask you how I accessed the memories, so feel free to give him a detailed list." He wiped the cache dry with his fingers and then ran it through his greasy hair before sneezing and coughing on it again. "Some of these methods are vital. Some are distractions. None can be re-created without me--but it'll be fun if he tries, don't you think?"
He laughed so hard, it brought tears to his eyes, and he smeared them across the cache before sneezing and spitting on it again--making Marella very glad she had gloves to keep her hands clean once he returned the cache.
Assuming she actually got it back...
She tried to make out what he was saying when he started mumbling a bunch of stuff into the crystal, but the words were all mushed together. He also tapped the cache in so many different places that she doubted even Sophie and Keefe with their fancy photographic memories would be able to re-create the patterns. And he looked so smug as he did it all that Marella decided to look as bored as possible--which was why she was barely paying attention when the cache flared to life, projecting a small hologram of Fintan standing alone in a wide, empty field.
"Huh," Marella mumbled. "Gotta admit, I was expecting something a little more exciting than a tiny glowing Fintan in the middle of nowhere doing...nothing."
"Then you should learn to be more observant." Fintan pointed to the swaying grass around the hologram's feet, and after a few seconds, Marella realized there was a vine of blooming Noxflares. "I figured I'd show you what Noxflares can do, since you're so generously bringing one back into my life."
Marella squinted at the tiny flowers, waiting for something to happen.
And waiting.
And waiting.
"So...they...blow in the wind?" she asked.
Fintan sighed. "No, they do this."
The hologram of Fintan waved his arms, and all the Noxflares erupted with searing white flames.
"Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah, still not seeing why this needed to be a super-hush-hush Forgotten Secret," Marella grumbled as the Fintan hologram flicked his wrist and added purple fire to the white.
Sure, the flames were pretty--but all flames were beautiful.
"Try thinking like a Pyrokinetic!" Fintan snapped. "Tell me, are there any other flowers that could remain intact under such an inferno?"
Marella couldn't think of any.
And the Noxflares still didn't burn when the Fintan hologram added yellow flames to the fiery mix.
but other than clearly being fire-resistant, Marella didn't see the Noxflares actually doing anything--and the hologram of Fintan must've been equally unimpressed.
He frowned at the flaming petals and dragged a hand down his face, mumbling "something's missing."
"Still not seeing the point of this," Marella noted. "I mean..."
Her voice trailed off as the tiny Fintan waved his arms again and blasted the Noxflares with pink flames--which made the flowers spray sparks in every direction.
The effect was breathtaking.
Kind of like the sky during the Celestial Festival.
But that still didn't necessarily scream, THIS MEMORY IS IMPORTANT.
"How come the grass isn't catching fire?" she asked, grasping for anything that might be significant. "Do the Noxflares protect it or something?"
"No, I was protecting it. A pyrokinetic should always be in control of their flames."
He sounded so smug Marella was tempted to remind him that he let five Pyrokinetics die when he tried to teach them how to call down Everblaze and they all lost control--but that would probably make him throw one of his tantrums and send her away.
She needed the cache back first--and to hopefully find something useful in this boring memory. But sadly, all Fintan's hologram did was stare blankly at the stars and mumble "something's missing" again before the image flashed away.
"That's it?" the scary guard demanded, beating Marella to the complaint.
"Yeah, so...you put on a little fire show all by yourself with some spark-shooting flowers," she added, trying to sum up what she'd seen. "You were clearly disappointed by that little show. And then you must've remembered you needed to..."
She waved her hands, cuing Fintan to fill in the blank with whatever was "missing."
But he just stood there, staring at the cache with the same glazed look he always got whenever he started rambling about the beauty of fire--and Marella wished Linh had come with her after all.
Linh could pelt him with snowballs or something to snap him out of it.
But then she realized...
"You never figured out what was missing--did you?"
Fintan blinked and met her gaze. "Noxflares are full of possibility. But they need to burn."
"That doesn't answer my question," Marella noted.
Fintan shrugged. "Context was not part of our bargain."
"yeah, because I figured when I saw the memory, it would be obvious why it's this big Forgotten Secret. How does you setting some flowers on fire and then realizing you did it wrong matter to anyone?"
"I did nothing wrong," Fintan assured her, with a particularly haughty smile--butt Marella wasn't buying it.
There was a tightness around his eyes that was way too familiar.
Her dad had that same tightness every time her mom was having one of her "bad days," and she knew exactly what it meant.
Disappointment.
Frustration.
A hint of helplessness.
So she marched over to the guard and grabbed the frozen Noxflare from the floor--too irritated to even notice how heavy the ice must've been as she hauled it back.
She plopped it in front of Fintan's cell. "Ta-da! One ugly flower, as promised--and I'm sure you're not surprised that I had to freeze it before i brought it down here."
"I'm not." Fintan dropped to his knees and gazed at the Noxflare like he was seeing a long-lost friend.
He pressed his hand against his cell, trying to get as close as he could. "Such power. Such...promise."
"Uh-huh," Marella agreed, letting his stare and stare, hoping it would help him let his guard down.
When his eyes turned a little teary, she went in for the kill.
"But there is something still missing, isn't there? That's why you saved this memory--to remind yourself to keep looking."
A whole lot of painful silence passed before Fintan slowly nodded.
Marella wanted to feel triumphant.
But all she'd done was prove the entire trade had been pointless.
There was no game-changing clue.
No dirty little secret about the past.
Certainly nothing to help them stop their enemies.
And she had a pretty strong hunch the other eight memories in the cache would be just as ridiculous.
"The answer is out there," Fintan murmured. "I can feel it. I just can't grasp it. Perhaps..."
"Perhaps?" Marella prompted when his eyes locked with hers.
Fintan stepped closer to the ice, keeping his voice low, like he didn't want the guard to hear him. "Perhaps a different Pyrokinetic is meant to find the truth. One who's already convinced the Council to trust her."
Marella laughed. "The Council doesn't trust me."
"The fact that you're here for a pyrokinesis lesson says otherwise--particularly since the lesson is with me." He started circling his cell again, mumbling under his breath and nodding. The only words Marella caught were "possible," "improvising," and "best option."
After three more times around the cell, he stopped in front of Marella again, leaning even closer to the icy wall as he whispered, "I believe it's time for me to offer a trade of my own."
"A trade," Marella repeated, not missing the way the scary guard gripped his sword.
Fintan glared at him. "This conversation is between me and my prodigy. She stands here of her own free will, shielded by who knows how many different kinds of protections--and she can leave anytime she pleases. Your presence is no longer needed."
"You still have her gadget," the guard argued.
"I suppose I do. but that can be easily remedied." Fintan set the cache on whatever invisible ledge it had slid down in the first place and gave it a good shove, sending it spinning up the path toward the top of the cell.
The guard had to scramble to catch it when it launched out of the ice bubble.
"See?" Fintan said, shifting his gaze back to Marella. "I can be trusted."
"Pretty sure the only thing I can trust is that you'll do what's best for you," Marella countered.
"As long as you get what you want, why would you care? After all, no matter what, I'm still stuck in here, aren't I?" He waved his arms around his little ice bubble, which suddenly looked way less secure than it had during her other visits. "Oh, relax--all I'm asking for is a little information."
Marella crossed her arms. "Right--and information has never gotten anyone hurt or killed."
"It's not that kind of secret. It's..." He frowned. "Honestly, I don't know what it is--and for someone my age, with my connections, that says something, doesn't it? I doubt any of the Vackers even know the full truth."
"Then how am I supposed to find it?" Marella demanded.
"As I said, you've proven to be quite resourceful. Particularly when you team up with your little friends." He scowled at the guard again before motioning her to step closer--until her ear was practically pressed up against the ice.
A voice in the back of her head kept screaming, WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO HIM?
But...she was curious.
And there was nothing wrong with hearing his offer, was there?
Fintan's breath fogged the ice, obscuring his face as he whispered, "All I ask is that if you ever find out what's missing from the Noxflares, you share it with me."
"Why?" Marella glanced at the frozen flower, wishing she could see something more than just ugly shriveled petals.
"Because I want to know," Fintan said simply. "And because I can give you what you want in return."
"The rest of the memories in your cache," Marella clarified.
Fintan nodded. Then his lips curled into a smile. "And one other--something you've long wondered about, even though you probably don't admit it to yourself."
Marella raised one eyebrow, refusing to show any more interest than that.
Fintan cupped his hands around his mouth and pressed them to the ice before he whispered, "I know what happened to your mother."
Marella sucked in a breath.
"Yes," Fintan added. "I'm talking about her 'accident'--if we can really call it that. I know why she fell. And why her injuries were so incurable."
Marella stumbled back, collapsing into the nearest throne and hugging herself to stop her body from shaking with tremors that had nothing to do with the cold.
A tiny, terrified part of her had always thought the story she'd been told about her mom's fall hadn't totally made sense.
But everyone--everyone--was convinced it had been an accident.
Even her father.
And if it wasn't...
She leaned toward Fintan. "I don't need your games."
"Oh, this definitely isn't a game. But it's the only way you'll ever know the truth, and before you start overthinking everything, consider this: You have all the power here. Make the trade, don't make the trade--it's totally your call. You also don't have to make a decision right away. I'm trapped in this prison. I'll never find the answer on my own--and I'll never know if you find the answer unless you decide to tell me. So there's zero pressure. No one even knows we've had this conversation--and don't worry about the guard. See how frustrated he looks? That's because I made sure he only heard what I wanted him to hear. The rest is our little secret."
Our little secret.
Fintan was probably the last person she should have a secret with.
And yet...he had a point.
No one knew he'd made her this offer--and it wasn't like she'd come to any decision.
She didn't even have the information Fintan wanted anyway!
And with the way their investigations always seemed to go, she'd probably only find a whole lot more questions.
So there was really no point in telling anyone about this.
She could tell them whens he needed to.
If she needed to.
That wouldn't be wrong...would it?
It didn't feel wrong--or it wouldn't have if Fintan's smile wasn't so creepy.
"I'm not agreeing to anything," she said, wanting to make that very clear.
"You're not," Fintan assured her. "So how about we put this out of our minds and get started with our lesson? I'm sure your Hydrokinetic friend is wondering why you haven't come up to practice yet."
Linh was probably starting to worry.
She'd probably also built enough snow animals to make a frozen Sanctuary.
"Fine," Marella said, standing up and dusting ice off her cape. "What do you want me to work on today?"
"How about I teach you how to make those colored flames you saw in the memory," Fintan suggested. "You know, in case that ever comes in handy."
He winked, and the guard groaned and held out the cache to Marella. "Sound like I'm no longer needed."
"You aren't" Fintan agreed.
The guard growled--looking scarier than ever--and turned to march away. But he spun back after a few steps. "He's right that I don't know what he offered you. But I can tell you're tempted. And I hope you're smart enough to reject it. Never make a deal with someone who has nothing to lose."
"I'm not," Marella promised.
And she wasn't.
She hadn't made any decisions--except to keep this to herself. But that didn't mean anything.
She was just trying to avoid a ton of drama and arguing and having people give her advice she didn't need.
Plus, everyone has secrets.
Shoot--the great Sophie Foster had more secrets than anyone.
So it was fine.
Everything was fine.
Nothing had changed.
Time to focus on controlling her fire.
And yet, for the rest of the lesson, the tiny spark in her heart burned hotter and hotter and hotter. Whispering a new plea.
Trust me.
Trust me.
Trust me.
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cogcltrcorn · 7 months
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gggggrrrraaaah I think it is EXTREMELY important to us, as kendall likers, to remember the dog pound and the subsequent "two dogs" metaphor. like. like. there are TWO dogs. kendall is as much of a dog as roman is. he has just learned that his place in the hierarchy is above the weaker dog but below the handler. I feel like so fucking many people writing roman forget that kendall is also a dog in the metaphor and So many people writing kendall completely disregard the fact that he HAS learned that his place in the hierarchy is ensured by his ability to enact violence. and like. this is such an important aspect of his character. offtopic but have you guys thought about how toxic masculine ideals are intrinsically linked to the capitalistic system and how the only way to ensure your status in the hierarchy is to enact violence on those below you
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theminecraftbee · 1 year
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you know sometimes one of the things the fandom does that i like the least is joke about how certain ccs are "lorephobic" because it basically always ignores the lore they actually are really and visibly doing. like, sure, they may not be doing the lore YOU'RE looking at, but, one, lore doesn't just mean "big overarching server storyline" it can also mean solo stuff. it can also mean 'builds that have story built into them'. it can also mean 'fun little storyline between like two guys'. it can also mean character continuity. it can mean many things. two, "this guy doesn't do lore" is NOT the same thing as "this guy doesn't do the specific lore i personally like and want to see them doing" and i don't always think you guys know the difference. all of this, of course, is to say: hey guys did you know zedaph can canonically time travel,
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descendant-of-truth · 5 months
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Something I really like about Fashion Dreamer, from its very concept, is that it makes the in-universe events correlate very closely with how the player is experiencing the game.
Eve is a digital world - your character isn't walking around as "themselves," they're presenting as one of four muses. Maybe in the canon lore they're still physically walking around a space, even if it's a virtual one - but at their core, they're doing the exact same thing the player is.
And that creates an immediate link between the player and their characters, while providing a lot of room for your own interpretation of what's happening. Maybe to you, there is no extra "story," it's Literally You just... playing the game. Maybe it's still You playing it, but you want to make a fictionalized, self-insert version of the events anyway.
Maybe you want to go full roleplay and create deep lore for each of your muses as their own characters, or have all four of them represent different facets of a single, unseen person who's canonically playing the game.
It really is a game that lets you play exactly how you want, with whatever number of headcanons is most engaging for you. And that's so cool! That's the benefit of games that are all customization and little plot, but in this case it's the setting that really elevates it in my book
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zvaigzdelasas · 6 months
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"don't form opinions on things you barely have surface level knowledge of" I opine on a topic where I admitted I have less than surface level knowledge 3.6 seconds ago
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ineffable-endearments · 6 months
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It's gotta be Crowley taking off his own glasses next time, OR possibly directly instructing Aziraphale to take them off.
Since their removal is symbolic of Crowley's vulnerability, it would be very powerful to see him make the choice to remove them again.
It would also represent, without the need for dialogue, a healing in their relationship, since during Season 2, Aziraphale's well-intended attempts at being an "us" ended up violating some boundaries. If he waits for Crowley to "let him in" again and Crowley does, that is strong, positive symbolism.
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