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ambyandony · 4 days

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Fusion (JJBA) - “Lisha Adkuna”

Limbo Adkins + Trish Una

presenting the fusion of my oc limbo with Trish for absolutely no reason I just was thinking about her so fuckinn much . specifically a monster au variant for reasons i dont really know.

"Lisha" Adkuna (either Lih-sha or Lee-sha add-kew-nah), fusion of Limbo Adkins and Trish Una, User of fusion Stand 「IT GIRL」.

A 「My Space」*-classic median fusion, meaning that most of her basic traits fall between what they are for Trish and Limbo; thus, she's 16 years old, about 5'3.5" or 161.29 cm tall, and - as is common for fusions where components share the same pronouns, she/her in this case - is identifiable by she/her rather than they/them.

She has a soft, light, somewhat high-pitched voice, fairly reminiscent of Rosemary Fairweather (which incidentally was another possibility for the Stand name), a la 'Washing Machine', which is incidentally also her musical style, considering Limbo is a musician and post-PHF Trish is a pop star. makes the best collab ever with myself

Fusions with Limbo tend to automatically take her cloud tattoo and present it differently in a way that relates to the fusion in some way. Lisha's tat is... particularly drastic in difference and... interesting, to say the least.

Side note. That's a bracelet. Her hand is fine.

(* see bottom of post)

The fusion between Trish's 「Spice Girl」 and Limbo's 「Cloud Nine」 is

「IT GIRL」.

「IT GIRL」’s ability, ‘signal fog’, also known as a ‘dead zone’, effectively makes signals ‘soft’.

It works in an AOE. When it is active, within the ‘fog’s reach, signals will become distorted automatically. Technology will become static or fuzzy, it becomes exceptionally hard to see, and even vocal speech is hard to decipher.

However, anyone who is outside of the fog’s range is unaffected by it. In fact, they can’t actually see the fog and can see anything within it fine. As soon as they enter the fog, it’s tangible; visibility is severely lowered, similar to a very thick natural fog, though it has the look of digital or visual snow.

Stands are disrupted (though not disabled) by default; as Limbo would explain it, the connection between a Stand and its User is, itself, a signal.

I made a sketch sheet too but it's ambiguously-anachronistic aka i can't tell you at what point in the timeline this would be occurring since

1. fugo is clearly post phf,

2. narancia and limbo have not gotten together with mista yet,

3. narancia.

so basically just dont worry about it

text is kinda small though so here's close-ups

Fugo: Ciao, Tr.. Trish? Limbo?

Lisha: Both. Lisha.

Fugo: ... What do you mean, 'both'

Lisha: Long story. Elephants and conjoined twins. You wouldn't get it

Fugo: ... And can it, uh... be fixed?

Lisha: Working on it.

Fugo: Okay, well, the next full moon-

Lisha: Is soon, yeah.

(Lisha, labelled in a side note as "half-girlfriend (Limbo is his girlfriend)

Lisha, Limbo voice, with delight: Ciao, Narancia!

Narancia, labelled "faceblind": ..... who the fuck are you

(Lisha is further labelled, "looks sounds and smells too much like both Trish and Limbo for him to tell it's either of them")

Internal Trish voice: Limbo why are you about to burst into tears

Lisha, Trish voice: No, because I was trying to tell him about me -

Lisha-Trish, continued: I mean I was trying to -

Lisha-Trish, continued, angrily: FUCKDAMMIT! It was Trish!

Lisha-Trish, continued, exasperated: It's weird to talk about myselves in the third person!

( a side note to her right points to her purple keyhole sweater and reads "Her only other "default" outfit option. Neither one of her know why she gets a sweater that looks like this, though... )

(Internally)

Trish: AREN'T YOU LITERALLY DATING NARANCIA!?

Limbo: I know!!!

Trish: AND YOU THINK ABOUT MISTA LIKE THAT?!

Limbo: I KNOW!!!

Trish: He is literally gross girl what is wrong with you

Limbo: He's nice to me!

Trish: ...

Trish: GET BETTER STANDARDS??? OH MY GOD

(Externally)

Lisha, Trish voice: (points threateningly at Mista) Don't talk to me.

Internal Limbo voice: DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT!!!

Mista: (Didn't say anything) (Was watching her zone out for like two minutes just glaring at him (thinks one of them is mad at him))

(Internally)

Trish: It's for your own good.

Limbo: What if he's mad at me!!

Trish: Wh-mad at you!?? How the fuck do you live like this?!?

Limbo: I'm so fucking far away from nirvana you genuinely would not fucking believe

Lisha: Well, see, the Full Moon is coming up soon and... I don't know if that's gonna be an issue for me... I'm on a bit of a time crunch trying to... uh... un-me myselves.

* 「My Space」 is a Stand belonging to a pair of conjoined twins (Eve and Belynda, or "Evelynn"). It takes a form resembling a conjoined pair of elephants, and its ability is simply to fuse two individuals into a single entity, both fusing their physical form and their Stands. Due to the way it does this, fusions function as a collective or co-consciousness, akin to a sort of very complicated Dissociative Identity Disorder; both components are generally actively conscious at all times, though they are able to speak either collectively or individually.

Considering this shared consciousness, fusions created by 「My Space」 are practically unable to refer to their fusion as a collective, as both sides view the body as themself. Thus, fusions usually say ‘i’ or ‘me’ instead of ‘we’ or ‘us’. This is also confusing when the sides try to refer to each other, as they will usually still refer to the other as ‘me’, since both are always actively conscious, even if only one is actively speaking. However, ‘myselves’ is a very common malaprop for fusions.

Evelynn refuse to undo the fusions unless their victim tracks them down and is able to convince them, usually by amusing or impressing them with some kind of talent or skill. They consider their Stand's ability a performance and insist it's only fair that they're entertained in return (really most of the separating process is just trying to track the twins down).

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system-of-a-feather · 4 months

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Trauma Processing and Talk (1/13/2024)

(Content Warning: No explicit or direct trauma talk other than hand waves at neglect, isolation, and allusions to grooming and MC)

So I was having a good conversation with myselves - not any specific part and vaguely as specifically Riku, but with me myself and I both in a 'fused whole' and 'system' sense and one of the things we've always struggled and spent a while working on - recently explicitly in terms of sexuality but chronically in terms of almost all aspects of life - is our relationship with other people making us happy and how we honestly deeply fear people making us happy.

Because that's one of the largest central points of our dysfunction from our C-PTSD. We are terrified of letting people make us feel positive emotions. We have never dreamt of someone loving or taking care of us, we had nightmares and loathe the idea - collectively.

Growing up, we weren't cared for and the closest person who came close to actually showing any care or interest in us, were using us to mold us for their own purposes and actively training us to be their attack AND service dog. Their kindness - as minimal and warped as it was - was not even kind, at least not enough to make it so that it was too particularly hard even for our most loyal part to sever ties with her.

For better or worse, almost everything that makes us happy was born from our sheer survival instinct, sweat, tears, sacrifice, and a lot of luck. Growing up, collectively, we don't have any significant memories of anyone really eliciting a positive emotion from - at least not in any matter that lasted more than a couple of months (and we are talking about a couple friends that we made out of our own initiative and study and "manipulative plays" our sister taught us) and honestly?

We were accustomed to that, it was our standard. Nothing good will come to us unless we got it for ourselves. Nothing would save us, unless we got it ourselves. No one would care for us or love us, unless we made them care for us or love us through honestly fucked up, manipulative, and borderline abusive means that we were taught.

And its because of that, which we gained a lot of our signature immense confidence, stubborn inability to give up, and thus a lot of our success and recovery. For better or worse, it never really occured to us and we've never asked or wanted or expected people to help us, to save us, to care for us and were left with "die / kill yourself and resign or get your ass up and get what you want" and for better or worse, it got us where we are.

And we are immensely happy and that's great. But along the whole journey, even when we have had ample opportunity as we improved our life, we never really left much room for anyone to make us happy - only enough to help us not be miserable. If anyone got too much of an ability to make us happy we would throw up walls, facades, and red herrings to get them on another path of thinking they know what we want, what we like and lead them either to a neutral thing we didn't feel much about or - if there wasnt anything of that sort - something we arguably even slightly disliked, because on such a deep trauma-centered level, the idea of letting someone make us happy feels dangerous.

Almost everything that is good in our life came from our own initiative, our own work, our own creation - if not that, then it was luck. We have had complete control over the crafting and creation of our own joy and we have had sole ownership over it. Because we made it, because we did it mostly alone and on our own, no one could touch it. It belongs to us and us alone and it is safe as long as it is only influenced by us. If someone comes along, and wants to add to it? Wants to put their piece into the ornate tower of happiness that we are building? It feels dangerous.

If they add their brick into the construction, if they add their wall and their decor - even if it adds so much to the construction, even if it makes my life easier and speeds up and all sorts of good shit to the tower I am creating, that is an aspect of this building that we did not make. Its an aspect we did not create. It is an aspect we do not own. It is an aspect we don't control.

In the short run, its uncomfortable, but tolerable. In the long run though, if we were to accept that as part of the construction and continue building, we have forfeitted part of the control over the construction to someone else. Part of our beautiful artwork we spent years and years and years slaving over, putting everything into, protecting and perfecting is now managed by *someone else*.

Can they tend to that part correctly? Can they keep it up to code? Can I trust that the part they added is not a covert bomb? Can I trust that the part they added is stable and will stay so that I am safe to build on top of it? Can I trust having an unknown party interacting with my careful yet fragile tower I've built? What is to stop them from igniting their piece and putting immense damage to the work as a whole? What is to stop that damage from collapsing the tower completely?

If no one ever makes us happy but ourselves, then all our happiness and joy in life is in our hands, is our responsibility, and is our fault if it goes good or bad - and we trust ourselves, immensely. Our happiness is ensured and secured if the only one who can touch it is us. Its comfortable, its safe, but in truth?

It's not complete.

It's not the beauty I think it could be, because alone, I can not create something more than what I can imagine. I want a craft that goes beyond what I can imagine, I want parts saturated in beautiful colors when all I know how to work with are desaturated colors (not an metaphor for it being dreary, I just really only know how to do art in desaturated colors and its a preference; this is literal)

I need to let people make me happy so I can have the resources, the insight, the enrichment to make this artwork what it is really truly meant to be and capable of becoming. I need to be able to trust and let go of control of this project if I am to actually let it grow beyond my own vision

But to do that, I would have to trust that someone is capable of handling a part of the art. I would have to trust that someone would care for it, be tender with it, be there and be stable and do no intentional or severe harm to it. I would have to trust that there is no malice or negligence or ulterior motives to their participation. I would have to trust that they don't plan to steal parts of my work and leave the rest to crumble.

That's terrifying.

That's dangerous.

That honestly doesn't sound real, because if people could do that - care, be tender, be stable, be honest, be kind, be attentive, be careful - then I would have seen it growing up would I have not? So many people had so many opportunities to help add to my life and yet the three or four people who have ever had the chance to add so much as a brick to my tower - each had, intentionally or not, caused damage that I then had to repair. Each time that happened, I was lucky it was something relatively mendable, something I knew how to patch up.

What if the next time it is something critical and vital?

What if the next time, the person I trust to give any access to the project, hurts the same thing that was already attacked once?

A pillar can only be patched up so many times before it is thrown out.

My relationship with my sexuality was built on top of landmines that someone had thrown in as a means of adding to my happiness. They built it up and I tried to build on their work. Those mines inevitably blew up and left me with years upon years of rebuilding and recovering of scorched pieces, and these days?

I've really built something beautiful out of the ruins. I actually have made peace with it, hell - I have made happiness and joy out of it. I'm happy and proud to see what I've made. It is part of the art and I love it.

But the truth is? It's incomplete. The burns from the last hurt is still there. It is still haunted and charred from the last injury. I still think its beautiful and I still love it and it still makes me happy, but I feel sad looking at those charred marks I can't seem to wash out on my own. Those charred marks serve to remind me that this part of my art was wounded and that it only looks this way because it was permanently and forever hurt.

Its beautiful, but this part of my happiness is still burnt - it's still hurting. It hasn't been given the ability to live past what it went through. It hasn't had the opportunity to become what it was meant to be. It hasn't had the opportunity to reclaim what was lost. It hasn't had the ability to ever learn to share it's happiness with another. It needs that assistance to be able to flourish into the connective bridge that is vital to sharing my happiness and my art with the world.

And it isn't only my sexuality, yes it is one of the many under nourished bridges that are meant to connect me to others, meant to share the work I've done with the world, meant to give me a place to belong and indulge in sharing and talking about my work with others.

Throughout my architecture, many unfinished, under nourished, under cared for partial bridges lay there, intentionally neglected, intentionally forgotten, intentionally left unmade, incomplete, and under developed.

I say this bridge is scorched from the explosion, but perhaps it never needed another person to clean it up. The scorching isn't a problem. The memory of the hurt isn't the problem. Those scorches and those memories make this part unique - I used that to inspire the beauty it currently is.

I am sad that this bridge, this part of my architecture, has been kept from growing - that it's stunted from it's past injuries, but that is simply not true. This "stunted" nature exists elsewhere, to places that weren't burnt or scorched. This "stunted" nature that saddens me, is my own work.

I've burnt these ends to keep it safe. I've ignored it and left it weak and under developed to keep it safe. I've kept resources from being allocated to make sure it never felt threatened. This "stunted" nature, is my own work, afterall - I said it myself. Everything in this artwork has been my own doing.

And even so.

I don't think I can currently convince myself to give those bridges outwards a chance to grow.

It would be a simple conversation to change my approaches. A simple conversation could then lead to actual action and I could nourish these parts of my life, ever so slowly. I could let them flourish and become what they were meant to be - but that?

That earnestly scares me.

#esoteric rambles #trauma processing #comments welcome #discussion welcome #jsut no reblogs #alter: fei #alter: riku #show therapist #<- maybe #ironically that would require me intentionally hampering my red herrings #which I do actively do to my therapist(s) as well #long post

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awonderlandsystem · 2 years

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Bwahaha how about talking to myselves. Fun conversations, even better arguments.

#dissociative identity disorder #d.i.d. memes #zoe

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cb-ps · 16 days

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Basic Cake and an Esplanade

Today is nearing the end of April. This is what defines how disappointing the rest of the year goes like, because it has already been a hell of a month. Travel was not so fortuitous in my horoscope this chapter, with things looking more like I am drafted back in towards My-Old-Parents'-House; but it goes along with being creative in a Dutiful Springtime. Nearing May, things known as recipes on the board are more like scattered hash and grapple-muffins, there is just enough of what sounds like "right now for brunch" for that excessive crunch of flax seeds, and quinoa.

What does it matter? I'd done this fantastic half-baked bread, where I roll it in scores of quick-bake (aldente? ) quinoa, to save it for later, or for soups. You can prettymuch use that as what cornbread is in the southern states, whether you'd prefer that entree as a bother of french toast, or more like mashed potatoes are to gravy. It's also one of those good-for-you things, and doesn't taste half bad when nuked over sourdough. You'd have to try it with an appropriate sauce, though. All through the graciously misted length of this time of the year leading up to our favorite summertime weather, baked french toast made with too many eggs and cheesecaake crust are what's sitting on Sommebat's posh ass doilies. They're all covered in sprinkles, and it looks like a plate of charades, then in breaking out the lavender, allspice, and creme, this actually celebrated the recent new lava-formed templates out in the world, with some info about planetary moons. I'm alright with all that, because what sparkles and shines isn't all up for a tart, and then neither is it so perpetual that it can take itself up as a day falling sunbeams and radio DJ's, but it keeps those real sketchers glowing. Talking outright sprite about the week-to-week joys of eating something good doesn't get old. I'll have to update the Scrapbook, and the Actual Looks pages, here right quickly ---- I have not done the same thing twice since we were eating blokey croissants, looking internationally about Swiss Cheeses. Before food does us in for the innuendum ~ I'd also like to mention again how wonderful Milkshakes are, and that they may be the only thing keeping some people of us alive, during any fathomable crisis letalone a health-procuring standard one; so don't forget Your Favorite Day[s]. #avakinlife is the better Mirror Emblem in all days gone by, so far. I've got a lot of writing I think I'm going to spend a few days specifically avoiding people during, but I'll get those pictures up while I'm working through the yada-grovels. Unfathomably, this week-by-week parlor dip is concurrent with finding out the homestead is riddled with cancer, and it makes my life more difficult. Don't be asueded by the thought it's mine; I've got enough dap in my own apothecary --- I'm here working between myselves and all my shelves and all that stuff, and mum's got thin-air. Travel doesn't even sit right there, it too, is kind of all over the place. #besupportive I can't wait to pick up that dishwashing gig. Need the quicker bandwagon to fix the sinker. Cheers 'til Deer Stew, Cinnamon Blithe

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mymemoirs · 1 year

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The Doors to Myself

Just this year, I've reunited with my high school friend whom I haven't met for 7 years. It was really a long time and the only time we catch up and knew what we're both up to was through one video call several years ago and social media.

I realized that at that time, my energy wasn't at par with his. He wasn't how I imagine back when we're still students. He has this big presence, confident and talks a lot (maybe a little too much).

Anyways, when he's almost running out of topics to talk about, he said something along the line of "I tried a lot of keys on you, but I don't think I can get your door to open".

I didn't think much of it that time, but now that I remembered about it (even if it was contextually different to what I'm about to write), it triggered me to ask this question to myself, "What door are we talking about?"

Once again, I knew the context was opening up to someone else and forging connections. But if this happens to me in my relationship with others, what would it look like with myself?

Because if I had to be honest, I didn't know any doors to my own self, let alone the keys to a door. I don't even know what door I'm searching for or if there's even a door?

The thing is, I don't understand myself better yet. I'm a mystery even to myself but I think that's because I've been denying this multitude versions of myself that's wanted to be seen. I didn't try to understand myself better or maybe I'm just lazy.

Perhaps the door I was looking to understand myself better wasn't just a door, it was doors. Plural. It was many doors, maybe unlimited doors to understand bits of myselves. I wasn't always the same too from one second to other.

However, I think it was unfair not to take any definitive step for my future just because I haven't fully understand myself yet. And that's what I've been doing, I've been holding back making big decisions and sometimes I hate myself for staying the same.

So, yeah, this year I've been telling myself to take one step at a time. One step at a time to understand myself better, learn new things, and one small step leading to big decisions and changes.

-Reina

---

PS. Really not on my A-game for this posts. It feels distant to write this as it was a few months since I had the idea to write.

#personal #doors

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mystikos-sys · 2 years

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why are there so many of me

#im not even talking in the context of being polyfragmented #like i just mean in my subsystem #there are so many different variants of myself and im like #if i wasnt already confident that im vastly different than headmates outside of my subsytem #and that like i was shut out for years by the host #id probably be fakeclaiming myself #rn im a teenager who likes horror games but is not scared of them #which is very different than like majority of my headmates who jump at even the slightest thing #i rly should count myselves better but i worry thatll just fuck me up lmao #bc we recently counted how many we have overall and the number is rly high #and we're missing a bunch #and that was enough to make them spiral for a hot minute #💚.sys

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fact-anonymous · 3 years

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tw abuse

what's up folks it's ya bois, factive n faitive of someone that majorly fucked us up a few months ago & after we cut him off formed a "good" part of him n a "bad" part of him

both of them are dealing with it Badly in the sense that the "good" alter gets horrible intrusive imagery courtesy of the "bad" alter, n the "bad" alter. well. is the source of the fucked up shit going around rn

weve managed to get the "bad" alter to at least figure out what morals are but it's an uphill battle so far. anyone got advice for dealing with a persecutor that's median with a trauma holder?

Mod Silhouette: Thank you for the ask, and for your patience.

TW: in-system abuse, trauma and dormancy mention

This sounds like a possibly DID, OSDD, or adjacent situation (considering you use the labels "alter", "persecutor", and "trauma holder"). My& system have gone through trauma and conflict, but we do not deal with a dissociative disorder - so you might want to consult dissociation resources.

Here are some links (look at the Dissociation and Dissociative Disorders section)

I don't feel very comfortable using "good" or "bad" to describe people (especially those I don't know), but if it's comfortable to you, you can use it. However, pardon me for overstepping, labeling the persecutor - or anyone - as "bad" might be cornering and discouraging them to change for the better. "Good or bad" is about behaviors, not inherent essences of people.

I am not implying you(&)'re doing this, but I find a lot of systems can be really stubborn about mistreating anyone they label as "bad", such as persecutors, trauma holders, abuser/"problematic" people factives, and villain fictives. Or the entire existence of the "malicitor" label. Anyone can change, it's just a matter of whether they want it or not.

First off, I'm sorry to hear that you(&) went through abuse.

Secondly, I'm sorry to hear your(&) trauma holder is getting horrible intrusive imagery. They/you(&) could try making mental blocks for the trauma holder - there are several ways to do it, like imagining them being protected by walls, by distractions (noise, music, positive affirmation, interests, comfort objects, etc), or anyway you like. You(&) could also try asking other system members for help. If you don't have any, asking trusted out-system friends, partners, etc. may be beneficial.

Since the trauma holder is, well, a trauma holder, they could try researching ways to cope with trauma, some of them also applies to systems. The persecutor may very well also need this. From what I've read, persecutors also have trauma, needs, etc. - and are lashing out because of it. They may have the same baggage as the trauma holder (especially being median), but they express it in a different way.

"Dealing with" a person can be hard. Most of all, you should remember a few things.

1. The abusive alter is still a person/being, and deserve respect.

They deserve a space to talk about why they're "acting out" and hurting others, and get other outlets for their trauma, grief, anger, or whatever emotion they're feeling, and even to front if they don't hurt the body or out-system people. They may have important things to say, possibly about the trauma you faced from that person who fucked you up. Negotiation is very important.

And judgement-free people are also important. Sometimes an abusive system member might want to vent to another system member or an out-system friend about how their victim is doing something wrong (could be in a "misguided protection" way or any other way). They should also be respected. And maybe from there, they - or you(&) - can gently nudge them towards understanding their victim.

(For example: "oh, the victim is reacting because of trauma, it's not wrong to be 'weak'", or "oh, they're not useless like I thought, so I should respect them", or "damn, I would be offended if they treated me like this, they would be too, huh?" - which hopefully leads to better behavior.)

2. The target/victim of any sort of abusive behavior should prioritize their own safety, protect themself and their boundaries, before helping others (including the alter who is behaving badly).

I'm median myselves. So people intervening with my& conflicts are near-impossible. But if it's possible for the trauma holder to reach out to other alters or trusted out-system people to help them manage the intrusive imagery or other things, do it.

3. Punishment does not help people change.

Do NOT threaten your persecutor with punishment.

Do NOT threaten any of your alters with punishment.

4. Restraining orders, forced dormancy and similar repression methods should only be done as a LAST resort.

Hell, I do not recommend it at all!

(unless on extreme circumstances of abuse under a long period of time)

Later, when things calm down a bit, both trauma holder and persecutor can try, with mediation from other alters or out-system people, working through the trauma together.

Best of luck and take care.

#ask #persecutor #answered #mod silhouette #anonymous #system persecutor #abuse #abuse tw #magicallymedian #median #median system #edited the post #also put some under the cut #long post #advice

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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661.

Have you had any experiences with the supernatural? >> I don’t divide my experiences into “natural” and “supernatural”. It seems like a false dichotomy, to me. Regardless, I’d say I’ve experienced things that I imagine many people wouldn’t regard as common or relatable, and strict materialists would regard as straight-up fake.

Do you feel at peace when you look at the moon? >> I’ve never really thought about it. I do like looking at the moon sometimes, though. Especially when it’s full.

Are you part human, part supernatural being? >> I am whatever I am, unceremoniously stuffed into a human body.

Do you have a mentor or a guide? >> No.

Do you have any supernatural gifts? What are your supernatural gifts? >> I don’t know if I have any “gifts” ("strengths” seems like a better word to me, but). I’d have to do some testing to figure that out, and most of the time I don’t have the executive function required to do all that.

Do you know what your calling is? >> I doubt I have one.

Does your city park have portals into another realm? >> I don’t know, the only city park I’ve been to here is Millennium Park, and since we did watch a solar eclipse there, who knows what might have happened, lol. I will say that Central Park in NYC probably has several thin places, considering all that’s happened in there.

Do you always wear a moon amulet or some other charm necklace? >> I have a Yog-Sothoth necklace, does that count? I was mad when I forgot to wear it when I went to see Color Out of Space, but it’s fine. Movie wasn’t all that great anyway.

Do you feel the most alive at night? >> I don’t feel different gradations of “alive”.

Are you aware of your destiny? >> Not really.

Do you believe that life is sacred and holy? >> No.

Do you believe that each day is sacred and holy? >> No.

Is your life one big grand adventure? >> That’s one way to look at it, sure, but it’s definitely not the only way -- and it kind of glosses over some of the really awful shit that has happened.

Have you ever felt like you were being followed, but there was no one there? >> I don’t think so. Are you able to become invisible? >> No.

Have you ever felt invisible? >> Sure.

Do you think of your gift as a blessing or a curse? >> ---

Do you wish you were normal like everyone else? >> Sometimes, but that’s a fallacious thought -- when you really get down to it, “normality” is just a set of social standards that everyone is trying to live up to, not something that people naturally embody by default. Some people are just better at wearing the mask than others. I don’t necessarily wish to be better at wearing the mask, I wish to not have to wear it at all.

Do you sing? >> Sure, sometimes.

Does your mom sew? >> ---

Do you have a boyfriend? >> No.

Have you ever been betrayed by your best friend? >> No.

Do you feel that you couldn't bear to lose another friend? >> ---

Would you risk it all to fulfill your destiny? >> I can’t imagine being in this scenario. I don’t know what I’d do if I was.

Would your give up your life in order to risk it all to save the world? >> I don’t know. See above.

If you were the world's last and only hope, would you feel defeated? or would you feel energized and excited and ready to go! ? >> The problem with this kind of scenario is it really only makes sense in storytelling. I don’t quite know which mythic role I embody, but I’m pretty sure it’s not the “Selfless Hero” one, so...

Do you follow the rules to a tee? >> No.

Do you feel like you have to keep your supernatural gifts and encounters a secret because no one will like you and they wouldn't believe u if u didnt? >> It’s complicated. Most of the time I don’t talk about mythic stuff simply because people are not interested and do not understand what I’m on about. But I do know some people who love talking about this kind of thing, so I talk about it with them instead.

Are you afraid to reveal your true self to the world? >> No. I just don’t see the point of putting all of myself out there to everyone.

Are you indecisive and hesitant when making important decisions? >> Sometimes. Other times there’s just no time for that.

Would your risk it all to save a friend? >> I can’t imagine being in this situation either. Do you enjoy lying in bed and looking out your window at the night sky? >> Well, I can’t see the night sky very well if I’m lying on my bed. That’d take some real neck-craning.

Have you ever had someone accuse you of being or wonder if you were an alien? >> I don’t think so. That’d be one hell of a logic leap for most people to make, but I wouldn’t necessarily mind if that was the conclusion they came to.

Have you reached your seventeenth birthday? >> Yeah, almost half my life ago.

If you had to choose between losing your memory of the supernatural being you were and becoming normal, or to remain a supernatural being, which would you choose? >> I don’t always enjoy being me and I don’t always want to be, but I can’t imagine being anyone else, so. Might as well make the best of it when I can.

Have you ever felt the presence of angels? >> No.

Have you ever felt the presence of demons? >> No.

Have you ever felt the presence of God? >> No. Not for lack of trying with this one, either.

Are you intuitive? >> No.

Can you sense what's in the atmosphere? >> I have no idea what’s in the atmosphere.

Do you ever just know things? >> Nah.

Do you ever have power in your hands? like heat or tingling or sparkles or electricity? >> Nah. If that would be anyone’s province, it’d be Can Calah’s. But I doubt even he could make that happen on this particular plane of existence.

Have you ever been transported into another realm? >> I mean, Inworld is another realm.

Have you ever had a teleportation experience? >> No.

Have you ever seen an angel? >> No. Well, there was Islington, but--

Have you ever seen a dark shadowy figure? >> No, but I’ve seen a white misty figure.

Have you ever seen a demon manifest? >> No.

Are you open to the supernatural? >> I’m open in general.

Is the supernatural just a normal part of your life? >> That’s more like how I think of it.

Have you ever come under the influence of a spiritual force? >> Any force trying to influence me first has to contend with my own influence.

Have you ever had a dark force influence your thoughts? visit you in your dreams? influence your memories? literally change something in the room, like turn a clock around? >> Nah. Or, maybe. But like... the “dark/light” dichotomy doesn’t really make much sense for me, personally. Even Red/White is iffy, but I have a little more understanding of how that framework operates.

Do you have dark forces out to destroy you? >> Not that I’ve noticed. Also, I’m sure if these almighty “dark forces” wanted to destroy me, it really can’t be that hard. Unless, of course... they’re just not that powerful... ~

How would you react if the moon goddess Selena came and visited you? >> I mean, sure, why not. It can be fun to play host to gods.

Do you believe that there is another realm intertwined with this one? >> Not, like, one specific realm. I think entanglement can happen between any realms.

Do you transfer between two realms? >> Yeah, Inworld and meatspace.

Do you believe that there have been two destinies woven for you? and you get to choose, by the decisions you make and by what you do which one will win? Are you winning? >> I consider it sometimes. It’s like the “which wolf will you feed?” parable. But I also think that if I really had to choose, I’d like to choose a third of my own devisement. Because that’s just the kind of incorrigible bastard I am. Do you realize who you are? >> At least a piece. There’s never going to be a point where I’ll think “that’s it. I know exactly everything about myself and all of my selves.” because that’s... just not possible, not from this incarnation. But the discovery is always fun.

What are you so afraid of? >> The knowledge of annihilation. I don’t know. Something like that. I always come back to the words “knowledge” and “death” but the way I mean those things isn’t necessarily the way people would interpret them. Also, “afraid” would be a... simplistic and one-faceted way of putting it. Blargh.

Are you ready to go home? >> I’m not convinced I have one. That’s been a constant amongst myselves -- a pronounced lack of... foundation.

#surveys #survey #supernatural survey #not my favourite word obvs but that's... what it is i guess #eldritch survey! hah.

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specialmindz · 5 years

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“Sans, take your brother and go to sleep…need to put the croceries away…”

“uh, pops?”

Gaster handed Sans a bag of what was left of the groceries, exhausted. There HAD been more, but Papyrus had decided to throw most of them into Hotland’s boiling magma as a “sacrifice” to the “volcanic gods of Mt. Ebott.”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

“Sigh…”

He wasn’t even supposed to leave the lab…

“dad you’re putting paps in the fridge.”

“KI-ET SNAS! Dis where he keep da’ milk…”

“you know babies drink more than-DAD!”

CA-THUNK!

“ME HEE HEE! I OUGHT IT SNAS!” cried the baby bones, his voice muffled from inside the fridge. “I OWES IT CAUSE’ DA’ CONTAINER FEEL LIKE A IZARD!”

SCRITCH, SCRITCH, SCRITCH!

“CAN YOU HEAR THE IZARD BIG BUTHER?��

FUMP!

“HEY!”

“sorry bro, gotta put these…three bisicles, away. also, don’t scratch on the milk carton, it’s bad for your fingers.”

“Dis MY milk and I does what I wants with it!”

“it’s everyone’s milk, not just yours.”

“NO!” Papyrus spread his little arms and legs out to block Sans from the fridge. “Dis MY milk, go sweep!”

“i’d love to go to sleep, but first i need to put these away.”

“Well dat’s very un-for-tun-ate for you big Buther, cause’ I don’t plan on moving out the way. I’ve decided dat dis gonna be my new room. Is close to da’ food AND the milk. Very efficient.”

“oh yeah? and what about your toys? where are you gonna put all your toys pappy? that’s an awfully small fridge…”

“Well I’m an awfully small baby, besides...” Papyrus reached down and pulled out a block of cheese.

“are you kidding me with this?”

“We both know dis all I need right here.”

“what about air?” asked Sans, deciding to stuff the bisicles into the freezer. “do you need ai-ewww, papyrus what is that?!” he pointed towards a bowl of…something, not caring whether or not his brother could actually see it. He couldn’t hazard a guess as to what he was looking at, but there were a few clues that told him the baby bones was probably responsible; one of them being that he recognized the bowl as one he’d use for cereal, which meant this thing was DEFINITELY homemade.

“Daz baby’s food. Not for you. Is like cookie dough, cept’ is not made of cookies.”

“it’s got meat in it!”

“Dat’s cause’ is not made of cookies…is made of meat. Meat and milk. Lots of nutrients in there. Lossa proteins and normal teens and calcium and-”

“stop. stop right there. what do you mean ‘normal teens?”

“Sometimes is hard to find new puppies.”

“new pup-is this more of your puptart crap?! i asked you not to do that!”

Those poor dogs…

“Is not puptarts stink head! Puptarts go in the brave little toaster! Dis Puppydough! Is like cookie dough cept’-”

“except it’s made of meat, i got it! it’s gross papyrus!”

“YOU NOT EVEN TRY IT!” shouted the baby bones accusingly. He quickly returned to his smile. “And you’s not GONNA try it…cause’ is mine. My ice cream. Not for you, sad, but true. You can has the Dog Salad...”

“are you seriously trying to make me jealous of this…?”

“Try not to get any of yo’ jelly in my noms Snas. I prefer my eats to taste like victory, not your depression-”

“ALPHYS, PAPYRUS IS BEING AN ASSHOLE!”

“PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS AN ASSHOLE.”

“I’M NOT TALKING TO YOU DAD!”

“You tell Babybop! You tell Babybop and Daddy and even Dirt-Butt, they all gonna side with the baby! They see mah dough and they probly think, ‘Wowie! Dat baby so talented and smart! Only a genius baby would think of mixing milk and meats! If only I had been nicer to sweet widdle Papyrus, then maybe I could have some of dat Puppydough…”

“*pfft!* is that how you think that’s gonna go?” Sans chuckled despite his disgust. “iiii think you might end up a bit disappointed then pappy. i personally wouldn’t touch that to throw it away.”

“You won’t touch it cause’ I told you not to.”

“heh heh is that right?”

SHINK!

“WOOOAHH! where’d you get that?!”

Papyrus narrowed his eyes at his brother whilst clutching a switchblade in his tiny fist. “Black babies always armed…case whitey wants to rumble. Nyeh? NO! NO DIS MINE! IS MIIIINNNE! MIIIIAAAHHHHH!!! NYEHHHHHHHHAAAA! NYEH-HAAAAAHHHHHH!!”

“sorry bro, but you’re the LAST person who needs a switchblade-”

THUMP THUMP THUMP!

“heeey, now you know better than that-”

“NYEHHHHHHHH-HAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Wailing loudly, Papyrus kicked the inside of the fridge with even more ferocity than before while his brother tried to keep things from tumbling out onto the floor.

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP, THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!

“HEY, WHO’S KICKING THINGS UP THERE?” shouted Gaster angrily.

“HE TAKE MY DOG-OPENERRRR!!! NYEHAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“SANS WILL YOU KEEP YOUR BROTHER QUIET? YOU HAVE ONE JOB!”

“papyrus stop kicking the fridge…also get out of the fridge.”

“I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMO-HORRRRRE!!”

“yeah, sure you don’t.”

Drama king.

I can’t wait till he grows out of this.

…

God I hope he grows out of this.

“I JUST WANTS TO EAT HEALTHY SO I DOESN’T GET FAT LIKE YOU-HOOOO! JUST CAUSE’ YOU CAN’T FIND HAPPINESS DOESN’T MEAN YOU GOTS TO TAKE DA’ BABY’S!”

“lemme know when you’re done, kay’? imma go throw this away or something.”

“YOU CUSH MAH DREEEAMSSS!”

Walking towards the elevator, Sans paused only slightly to consider maybe throwing the blade into the lava pits of Hotland, but in the end, he decided against it walking into the Nursery instead. Papyrus didn’t need a knife, he was dangerous enough as is, which could only mean he had taken it from someone else…someone who ALSO didn’t need a weapon, seeing as everyone used magic.

Monsters with weapons are always bad news. Papyrus must have run into a really bad person who planned to use this knife as a surprise attack against someone. That’s all these things are good for down here; fighting dirty.

Asgore really needs to put some kind of fence around the Dump or ban it or something. That’s exactly where dangerous garbage like this is coming from, right there.

But that’s not to say it wasn’t useful to people like Sans.

My ATK is so low, I’m pretty much the only person who needs something like this to protect himself. My bro can’t be there for me ALL the time, and I wouldn’t want him to be. The older he gets, the more responsibilities he’ll have to take on, and eventually I’ll become a burden. He doesn’t mind protecting me now; he’s a baby, he has nothing better to do, but one day…

Sans took a few swings with the knife.

“Nyeh? Snas what chu-no. Nuh-uh. Give me that. That’s not a toy.”

“p-papyrus..?”

Using his wingdings, Papyrus took the opportunity to take the blade out of his surprised sibling’s hand.

“hey i need that!”

“Why? You want to end up a little punk like me?”

“huh?”

“Well I’s very flattered big Buther, but the answer is ‘no.’ Nobody like a copycat ya’ know? Also, how you gonna weave baby crying in da’ fridgergator?! You wants me to catch a cold? You weave the door open too! I could’ve fallen out and broke my widdle head-”

“papyrus-”

“It’d be like Humpy Dumpy.”

“bro-”

“Dead baby. Egg yolk erywhere.”

“would you listen to me?! i need that knife!”

“What for?”

“for protection! i only have 1 atk…”

“You’re not gonna need any protection other than me until you’re eighteen…and given your personality that too is a shot in the dark.”

“what does that even mean?!”

“Means ‘no.”

“DAD, PAPYRUS HAS A KNIFE!”

“SHOCKING.”

Sans glared down the hallway.

Alright…

“ALPHYSSS, PAPYRUS HAS A KNIFE!”

“SWING WITH RESPONSIBILITY PAPYRUS,” replied the young girl from another room.

“SERIOUSLY ALPHYS? DOES NO ONE CARE THAT THIS BABY HAS A KNIFE? HE’S USING IT TO KILL PUPPIES!”

“Nyeh? What chu talkin’ bout’ Snas? I not make dat Puppydough.”

“you already admitted that you made it papyrus!”

“No I didn’t! Is made by puppies…like the spidie doughnuts. Dat’s where I gots da’ idea! Is made by puppies, OF puppies…”

“it’s gross!”

Not that I believe you.

“IT HELPS DA’ ECONOMY! You know how diffi-cult it be to be a baby in Snowdin?”

“you’re not SUPPOSED to be in snowdin-”

“The snow be deep as hell big Buther, and the doody dogs leave their doodies erywhere. They gets covered by the snow and then cute babies such as myselves steps in them.” Papyrus lifted up his foot. “Today I’s wearing the baby booties cause’ I go shopping wit Daddy. No shirt, no shoe, no service Snas; but OTHER times I’s in my onesie and I get the brown feets-”

“then wear boots all the time or don’t go out. killing these dogs is not the answer baby bro, It’s wrong.”

“But it IS the answer Snas! Dis not the only bad thing they do! Sometimes they pick up the baby.”

“…what?”

“They bite down on baby’s skull and they picks me up! They picks me up and they run around and I’s like, ‘PUT ME DOWN DOODY DOG! I’S TRYING TO GET TO DIRT-BUTT!’ and they’re all like, ‘WOOF!’ and I’s like, ‘YOU STUPID DOG!’ and they’re like, ‘WOOF!’ and I go ‘IMMA KILL YOOOOOU!”

“…”

“…There dis one dog dat be useful dough. You remember Long-Neck? He carry the baby waaaay up high; the big peoples be using him to get crystals from the ceiling.”

“wait, magic crystals? Are you talking about magic crystals?”

That wasn’t good. As desperate as the Underground currently was for power, Sans didn’t want the false stars on the mountain’s ceiling to disappear. It made him sad to think of all the wishes people had made on them over the years being turned to powder along with them.

All of HIS wishes…

“Yep! Is got me thinkin’ too…I could use a high dog like dis to get to the sparklies you wants. I could do that Snas. If dat stink ceiling weren’t in the way, I could reach those sparklies and maybe even visit the moon…”

“my wishes…”

“…?” Papyrus looked up at his brother in confusion and then smiled, realizing what he meant. “Don’t worry big Buther. I got chu. I tell the peoples collecting that if they don’t weave the fake sparklies in Waterfall alone, THEY gonna be my ice cream. Yo’ wishes be safe like the womb.”

“uh…thanks.”

I think.

His baby-isims are so creepy sometimes…

…

I wonder though…

“hey bro, do you have any wishes?”

“Nyeh? Wishes? Nyeh heh hee hee hee! What I gonna wish for? I’s just a baby! A baby lacks petty big people ambitions and obsessions. All we needs is some toys, love, a cwib, and lossa nutrients.”

“c’mon pap, there’s gotta be something that you really really want and can’t get on your own. everyone’s gotta wish like that, I know you’re no different.”

“No different hm? Kay’ then, I wish you’d stop asking me so many personal kestions.”

“personal questions?”

“Mm.” Papyrus nodded. “I wish you’d stop asking me personal kestions and stop playing with sharp objects.” And with that, the infant crawled out of the room, all the while making a mental note not to pull weapons out in front of his silly brother again.

Sorry about the wait...and the short fic; like I said on AO3 (and not on tumbler like I should have) I’ve decided to focus more on Fonttale 3 since every time I make these it takes a month and then I wind up with no time for the main fic. So far with this method I’ve managed to finish another chapter and a half, so things are going well.

As compensation for taking so long, here is a special tip (though hardcore Undertale fans may already know about it), messing with the SAVE file like you would to find Gaster in the main game will also allow you to find Papyrus’s Puppydough...and if you screw up the Horror Font has a few things to say unlike everyone else who simply says “Error”

Papyrus’s Fight Error: THIS IS AN ERROR MESSAGE. REALLY!!!

Papyrus’s Puzzle Error: Error, Pepibs. (probably a rendition of bepis, an inside joke Toby inserted into Undertale usually meant only for hackers to see...though they too might never guess it’s a synonym of “penis.” Toby uses it in place of curse words sometimes. Basically, Papyrus is saying “Error, fuck.” in a quiet voice which I personally find hilarious as it completely breaks character).

Papyrus’s Troll (remember the good ol’ days when Undyne was looking to murder you and Papyrus took it upon himself to work together with Flowey to screw you over? Back when he’d call you and ask you what you were wearing and then no matter WHAT you said, WHAT you changed into afterwards, or HOW many times you reset, he’d ALWAYS “accidentally” give her the right info? Pissed you off too didn’t it? Well guess what? There is in fact a way to give them BOTH the finger. If you recall, Undyne isn’t a fan of Temmie Village, she even tells you where it is so you can avoid it. That being said, she doesn’t know shit about Temmie armor including what it looks like. You know where I’m going with this right? Hack your file and pop that shit on before you get that call to effectively piss off Team Cute Truth and get this message):

HELLO! THIS IS PAPYRUS!!! HOW DID I GET THIS NUMBER...? IT WAS EASY!!! I JUST DIALED EVERY NUMBER SEQUENTIALLY UNTIL I GOT YOURS!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!! SO...WHAT ARE YOU WEARING...? I’M...ASKING FOR A FRIEND.

Yes No

(Picked yes)

SO YOU ARE WEARING A BEPIS.... GOT IT!!! WINK WINK!!! HAVE A NICE DAY!

Obviously this immature call was Flowey’s idea, which is understandable since he’s a child AND the one doing all the legwork just to tell Papyrus you’re wearing something Undyne will never recognize. Nothing like revenge colder and more disgusting than the spaghetti your “friend” left outside in Snowdin, am I right?

Papyrus’s Toolshed (If you get into Papyrus's toolshed by manipulating save data, reading the note will result in this message): WHAT!? THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.

Mortal Enemy Request ( As this comes right after Napstablook's friend request in Hotland, it may have happened as a result of rejecting the request. In the final game, the friend request rejects itself regardless of your choice and don’t worry, the request isn’t from Papyrus, lol):

METTATON has sent you a Mortal Enemy request. Congratulations! You are now Mortal Enemies with Mettaton. COOLSKELETON95 has posted a comment on this change. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU TWO! WISH YOU A LONG AND HORRIBLE RIVALRY. You rejected the request. METTATON has sent you an invitation to "Die." RSVP? Respond Ignore

Another small apologetic gift you may find interesting... You remember the guy from room 272 right? The inaccessible room? It’s also known as room_water_redacted if you don’t recognize the name. When you get closer to this guy he fades, and, when spoken to, says "* [redacted]" in Wingdings. This NPC represents one of two theorized sprites for Gaster and you can see why...it looks like his face has melted off though his body looks fine. "Premonition" plays in this room too by the way. If you leave through the south exit, you enter the sound test room, room 270. One of the four playable songs in this room IS "Gaster's Theme" and when the protagonist attempts to exit the room, the game crashes (big surprise). If the protagonist chooses to play "Gaster's Theme," they can select no other song.

Why am I mentioning this?

Well, among the lines for the garbage dump and Napstablook's house, there are a few lines implying there was a horse stable somewhere in Waterfall and that’s not all, look at the message.

* (It's a horse stable.)

* (Do you want to go& inside?)

Yes No

* (You jostle the door.)

* (It's locked.)

* (Suddenly, from inside the [redacted], you hear a

Interestingly, we're hearing a noise from inside what is supposedly the horse stable, but for some reason, whatever it was is replaced with "[redacted]", and whatever it is that we hear at the end is just outright removed (I’d say that it’s weird that the stable ITSELF was removed, but with no disrespect to Toby mind you, it looks so bad when it appears in-game you’d half-expect the video about it to be trolling). This dialogue seems to be triggered by a trash can that appears in Napstablook's courtyard for some reason. Inspecting it if flag 92 (one of the unused ones) is less than 3 will cause the same figure from room 272 to appear inside the stable, and say “*x”

In Wingdings.

To be frank and funny, it’s possible Gaster somehow got himself locked in a horse stable and ended up cursing when we showed up holding the key to his escape. Granted, “*X” isn’t a curse word, but if you recall, Toby doesn’t curse in his games and Gaster, like Papyrus, doesn’t put an * next to his sentences, which is something even Alphys did in her notes found in the True Lab. It’s a looong stretch seeing as it’s only two symbols, but I still like to think he’s keyboard mashing the word “shit.” XD

I hope this made up for the lost time and the time I’ll be taking to focus on Fonttale 3. Damn, I started this post at 12:00 something and now it’s 2:48 pm...see this? This is that bullshit I’m talking about.

Can’t shut the fuck up when I write...

#Fonttale #fonttale au #Undertale #Undertale au #Sans #Papyrus #kid sans #baby Papyrus #gaster #alphys #puppydough #horror fonts #fonts #undertale fanfiction

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otdderamin · 5 years

Text

Analysis & Transcript: Fjord is ashamed of losing his abilities – CR C2 Ep62 1:56:49

I really sympathize with Fjord right now. As someone whose had their abilities and their old life taken from them, who thinks every day about what they cost their loved ones, this is a powerful and intensely real narrative.

That denial and shame are horrible. It’s awful and terrifying feeling like everything you’ve been working for, everything you’ve wanted, all your cool new friends just have to go away because suddenly your abilities are gone or intermittent. Having all your hope taken away overnight. Wanting it to go away because you don’t have another solution. Confessing that it’s happening feels like defeat. You know it can’t just go on. It’s not like you can really hide it, and you know it’s going to just blow up in your face but saying it out loud makes it feel real. Travis is playing it really beautifully.

Fjord doesn’t know how to make it better. He doesn’t think his friends know how to make it better. Marisha suggested, “Well, look, you could have been our Caddy Shack for a few episodes, and we would have gone and got your powers back. We just quest for powers.” (TM for C2 Ep061 0:36:28) Travis incredulously replies, “How do you do that? How do you think you do that? Where is Uk’otoa to you?” He thinks telling them will only worry them and squander their resources. Especially when they could be out solving solvable problems. They don’t need this. It’s his.

He feels like he has to tell his friends he has to quit, and he’ll never get something like this back again if he does. If his friends ask him to stay, he’ll feel like a burden. His abandonment issues are telling him his friends will only stay as long as he benefits them, and he nether deserves nor can expect loyalty. “Yeah, they’ll think less of him. Who wouldn’t, right? Everybody needs to be able to- No, Dani, they would! You’ve gotta pull your own weight in this group.” (Travis, TM for C2 Ep61 0:35:26)

Caleb tells him, “I would feel better knowing who you are because I don’t trust that I do.” (Ep62 1:58:01) Fjord winces hard. He doesn’t know how to answer that. He knows the person he hated being. He knows who he remade himself to be for them. But not who he is now.

He keeps his eyes closed after that line. He’s really struggling inside. Caleb says, “What do you think? We’re going to chase you out of here? Run you off?” (Ep 62 1:59:00) Fjord grimly and painfully smiles. that’s exactly what he thinks is going to happen. He’s deeply afraid of being abandoned.

Caleb continues, “I find it hard to believe that anything you would tell me, maybe I’m wrong, but is worse than what is inside my head.” Fjord shakes his head and responds, “Oh no, I don’t think that’s it at all.” Fjord’s not hiding the wrong he’s done; he’s hiding the shame of not being able.

Fjord shakes his head downcast and says, “It is not in me to speak about myself. It appears the same is true for you? I found myself reinvented when I woke up on that shore. When I wake up at night spitting up water, it’s reminders of a time when the rest of my life no longer mattered. Didn’t apply. I didn’t care for that life. Didn’t care for me. I prefer to leave it in the past. It’s not that I’m hiding anything from you, I… I don’t want to bring things from my old life into this one.” (Ep62 1:59:15)

On Talks Travis said, “I mean, from the day that happened until now, everything has been different and awesome because I can shoot shit out of my hands, and jump between planes, and change the way I look, and all of that. If you told me I’m just going back to being who I was before…” (TM for C2 Ep61 0:44:12)

Fjord hated being a weak kid treated like a monster, isolated and picked on by those around him. He tried to remake himself and put that behind him. As a sailor, he had a purpose, a crew, and a captain at his back, but that was taken away in an instant. He washed up on the shore with a new chance. Those old lives could have nothing to do with his new one. He finally had power. He could be anyone he wanted, someone people feared or respected. “All these powers, when he has them, are defining who he is, right? It was really not anything close to that before. […] Plus, people look to him in a… looked to him in a leadership role for a while. That’s new to him, too.” (TM for C2 Ep61 0:33:40) He likes the result. “Fjord has fallen in love a little bit with the idea of who this new version of himself is.” (Travis, TM for C2 Ep61 0:42:46) “As long as things stay the way they are he’s pretty comfortable with this new life and family. But shit changes sometimes.” (TM for C2 Ep61 0:54:49)

He feels like his new life is being stolen. He’s terrified he’ll have to go back to a life he left behind, this time with the knowledge of what it was like to be free. He genuinely can’t handle how bad that sounds, how trapped he feels. It’s a tossup if it’s worse if Uk’otoa kills him or abandons him.

Caleb worries about Fjord’s past coming back to hurt them. He wants to know what he’s up against so he can defend them from it. Fjord reassures him his past is no danger to anyone else. He doesn’t think Sabian is after him, he was just a bystander to a different plot that’s over now.

Fjord knows he needs to tell them something, but after a lifetime of needing to protect himself, he doesn’t know how. “I appreciate you wanting to know more. I almost resent you for… telling us as much as you have. Anyone for sharing their pain. Seems like the last thing I would ever want to do… […] Give me some time. I do not want to share this with the group.” (Ep 62 2:02:41) His vulnerability has always been exploited to hurt him. He doesn’t know how to trust this love and speak.

He says, “I feel like sometimes you hold onto things that make you who you are, and if you lose those things, you can fall free.” (Ep62 2:03:54) Caleb implores him, “We can remake ourselves into something better.” But Fjord responds, defeated, “Yeah, that’s what I- That’s what I thought I was doing.”

Fjord feels like he failed to remake himself twice. He doesn’t know where to go from here, who he is or who he could be that he’d even want to live with. He’s so split he says, “I find myselves on my heels in this room.” (Ep62 2:04:34) He feels like a collection of selves, his past lives, his present, and an unknown future. He tied his worth to his abilities and now he feels like both are in jeopardy.

Fjord says, “Please understand I am not trying to be deceptive. Just let me figure out how the fuck to say it, and let me come to you, and I will feel less like I have been… less like I’ve had something taken from me. Let me find a way to tell you. Please.” (Ep62 2:04:37) I believe he means that. He’s only lying because he’s lying to himself. He just wants this to get better or get easier because he doesn’t see any other positive way out.

Now, I do think Fjord’s wrong. He can’t know the being doing this to him still wants him in the story. His friends won’t abandon him, he is worth it, they’d be happy to help him figure it out, and they’ll do what they have to make sure he’s alright, abilities or no. He’s trapped by fear of the unknown right now. Part of him knows the only way forward is telling them. But the vulnerability and consequences all scare him, so he’s curled up into a ball of avoidance. His battle right now is pushing past that.

Caleb got more out than he knows. Fjord needed to hear it, especially from Caleb, who Fjord is most afraid will abandon him. (TM for C2 Ep61 0:36:04) This’ll do a lot to help him tell them, hopefully before they learn the hard way.

2:05:41 Fjord: “Thank you for… I was gonna say caring.”

Caleb: “That’s accurate. Give me your hand. I am not a good person, but we are friends. We are friends.”

Fjord: “We are friends.”

Caleb: “Alright. To be continued.”

Scene runs: 1:56:49 to 2:06:07

1:56:49 Matt: “After the shopping is complete and, Fjord, you’ve completed a run of some of your work throughout the city, you return, open the door to your chambers, and Caleb is there patiently waiting.”

Fjord, startled: “Goddamnit.”

Caleb, holding up his hand in an easing gesture: “Sorry.”

Fjord: “Meant to put locks on this shit.”

Caleb: “Sorry. I can help you out with that if you wish.”

Fjord: “What can I- what can I do for ya?”

1:57:12 Caleb, breathing deeply: “Why have you been talking to us with a fake accent for months?”

Fjord, looking quizzical and concerned: “I’m sorry?”

Caleb: “I’ve heard you do it a few times. I’ve heard a different voice come out of you.”

Fjord: “A different voice.”

Caleb: “Yeah, Fjord, a different voice.”

Fjord, taking a deep breath and slightly laughing with confusion: “I’m, uh, I’m afraid you’ve got me a little lost.”

Caleb, firmly: “I don’t think so.”

Fjord frowns.

Caleb: “And I am talking to you as one accomplished liar to another.”

There’s a long pause. Fjord shifts uncomfortably.

1:57:55 Fjord: “What do you, uh, what do you want me to say here?”

1:58:01 Caleb: “I held onto my garbage for a long time, and you don’t know all of it, and I am willing to tell you more. I would feel better knowing who you are because I don’t trust that I do.

Caleb: “I will tell you more if you want. I will go first if it’ll make it easier for you or you consider it a better trade, but we have bound ourselves together, and I feel like I know this group pretty well. I know Yasha better than you and she never fucking says anything.”

Sam, whispering: “I love you Ashley.”

Quiet laughter.

Liam, whispering: “So do I.”

1:59:00 Caleb: “What do you think, we’re going to chase you out of here? Run you off?

Caleb: “I find it hard to believe that anything you would tell me, maybe I’m wrong, but is worse than what is inside my head.”

1:59:15 Fjord, downcast, shaking his head: “Oh no, I don’t think that’s it at all. It is not in me to speak about myself. It appears the same is true for you? I found myself reinvented when I woke up on that shore. When I wake up at night spitting up water, it’s reminders of a time when the rest of my life no longer mattered. Didn’t apply. I didn’t care for that life. Didn’t care for me. I prefer to leave it in the past. It’s not that I’m hiding anything from you, I… I don’t want to bring things from my old life into this one. I can sound like many people, do many things…”

2:00:53 Caleb: “Yeah, but it’s just been the one that I’ve heard when you think no one is listening. Is that your past?”

Fjord: “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

2:01:14 Caleb: “I have dealt heavily with my past. And I worry now more than ever that it is nipping at my heels. Do you have worries like that? Do you feel like your past will come back to bite you, or it is just painful, and you wish to shun it? Because that is the main reason I ask. This is our… family now, and we are looking out for each other, and I have told all of you something I am very ashamed of because I worry about you all. And maybe I just want to know that you are not worried about something like that as well. I want to know what’s at my back.”

2:02:11 Fjord, taking a deep breath and struggling for words: “You are right. You have been very forthcoming. I admire that, especially given what you’ve told us. There is nothing that nips at my heels or is at my back that is of danger to anyone else in this group. I appreciate you wanting to know more. I almost resent you for… telling us as much as you have. Anyone for sharing their pain.

Fjord: Seems like the last thing I would ever want to do, and to see it done with such… conviction? Resistance? I’ll try. Give me some time. I do not want to share this with the group. I feel like sometimes you hold onto things that make you who you are, and if you lose those things, you can fall free.”

2:03:44 Caleb: “I have had those same thoughts for a long time. We can remake ourselves into something better.”

2:04:00 Fjord: “Yeah, that’s what I- That’s what I thought I was doing. I promise you here and now: there is no danger from my past. I like this me. I love it. If I would have my way none of you would ever know anything about who I was before, and I mean that. I find myselves on my heels in this room. Please understand I am not trying to be deceptive. Just let me figure out how the fuck to say it, and let me come to you, and I will feel less like I have been… less like I’ve had something taken from me. Let me find a way to tell you. Please.”

Caleb: “Um… Alright. That’s fair. The only reason people in this group know anything about me is because I am… crazy.”

Fjord: “I actually don’t think you’re crazy. You’re one of the more put together people I know.”

Caleb softly, disbelievingly laughs.

2:05:33 Fjord: “Least that’s what I see. It’s what you show. Thank you for… I was gonna say caring.”

Caleb: “That’s accurate. Give me your hand. I am not a good person, but we are friends. We are friends.”

Fjord: “We are friends.”

Caleb: “Alright. To be continued.”

2:06:07

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#critical role #critical role meta #Fjord #critical role analysis #critical role transcript #analysis #transcript

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soulvee-animationz · 2 years

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back on what I’m saying about not getting accepted, I just wish I was like, born literally anyone else.

family always talks about how I was born myself for a reason but all myself does is get in myselves way. i just feel so much of an outcast from most people now, interactions are so hard, I can’t tell tone.

man I fuckingg wish people were more clear about there emotions and shit. i can’t tell when people are mean to me as a joke a lot of time and I just think everyone means to insult me. same with like “tough love” I’ve always just seen it as someone being mean. I get that it probably comes from a good place (maybe?????) but I can’t tell and it never feels like it.

i should prolly kms honestly. I know im not going too, I just feel like that’s all I can really do. no one listens to my problems that can actually fix them, society don’t like mentally I’ll people like me, I can’t get proper medications for myself to potentially help my depression/anxiety, I am fucked in every direction and its never gonna get better

i keep telling myself that it’s never gonna get better cuz I think that if I keep telling myself it I’ll accept it and grow numb to everything. i wish I didn’t have to feel emotions, emotions are stupid and bullshit and make me feel terrible. i like feeling shit sometimes but more times then not it just gets in the way.

#vent #tw #suicide

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see-arcane · 6 years

Text

The Hecklers

The credits are rolling. It’s still too dark to see faces. Too dark to know who you’re sitting beside, elbow-to-elbow. Your eyes and your heart are sore and your belly is full of ice. You were prepared for hurt. But not so much.

“You will never be a god.”

Crunch.

Depression without surprise. It’s all over but the end credits. You’re rubbing your eyes, trying to keep some bitter drops of mourning trapped in your head. There are still plenty of people left and none of them want to hear you blubbering. As you do this you hear a less-than-impressed snort and a crunch of popcorn.

“I’ve seen better.”

You almost think it’s addressed to you. But your neighbor’s head is craned to the side, addressing his neighbor.

“So you’ve told me. Many times.”

“Because me and mine have faced far worse. Many times. The Gauntlet, the Civil Wars--,”

“--as if anyone cares about them--,”

“The Ragnaroks, plural. Oh, and the End of Everything. Every universe, everywhere, exploding into nothing, leaving behind a despot-run patchwork planet. Right before it all got fixed by Deus ex Machina number 616. Everyone was there. Apart from you and yours, of course.”

“Why ‘of course?’“

“Because your universe was too young. Even now it’s too young. The reason Thanos is so fearsome and the heroes all so raw,” you see an elbow shove your neighbor’s neighbor, “yourself included, is because this was your first big catastrophe. Your first big loss. Malekith? Hela? Those were the mini bosses. There will be plenty like them after Thanos gets taken care of and the mess gets put right. As it always does.”

“I know. You showed me.” The neighbor’s neighbor looks sulkily at a soda cup. “The ending could use more of us in it.��

“All things could.”

Quiet from them. All of you stare down the credits.

“You could go in there right now, couldn’t you? Go in, go back before the beginning, screw the whole thing up for the purple bastard. Steal the Stones and the Gauntlet. No one would expect you.”

“I’m already pushing the Authorial Powers That Be by doing this with you. Once your universe gets over this hump and you’re brought back into the story proper there’s going to be a mischief-shaped hole there waiting for you. And a very exhausted brother with it.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean--,”

“I know what you mean.” Popcorn is flicked. “But it would be superfluous. It gets fixed anyway. Plus, your universe is grabby as Hel. If I’d gone there physically to fish you out it would have stapled me into its canon and there would be contracts to sign and cameos to make and I’d have to grow an English accent...”

“Coward.”

“...and I do have my own stories to get up to. Hunting down a real Gauntlet, not your tinfoil boxing glove.”

“Snob.”

“Intergalactic sugar baby.”

“Hush, the scene’s coming up.”

It does. Fury and Hill, the tease of another Marvel to come. You almost miss the pair as they stand to leave.

The screen throws just enough light to trace their outline. A man in a suit, trimly tailored. Another man in clothes that might once have been fine, now ragged at all their edges. The latter pauses in the aisle, his neighbor halfway to the declining floor that leads to the exit. His head turns and finds you. Even with his face erased in shadow you can see the eyes.

Bright, liquid green.

“I’ll put him back eventually. But there’s a pretty big intermission coming up, everyone else is chilling in Valhalla, and I’ve always had a hate-love soft spot for myselves. So. You know. I doubt there will be any complaints if we take a sabbatical in your side of things. We’ll try not to break much.”

In the distance, a scoff, “He’s lying.”

So saying, they’re both gone.

For the moment.

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what-ever-happened-to-chip · 3 years

Text

Part 4: Junkie

*insert story and whole memory montage of joni and jesse's life* (I'm writing it now, but to make it complete I would have to write a lot more so i'll slowly add in some shit about it to maybe inspire the mood)

For now,

HOLY SHIT, where was I? Christian? I need a cigarette, what's wrong with my body? Who am I? "Hello Gray" A ghostly smile was plastered on Christian's pale face. "Gray.....yes I'm...Gray? What did you just do to me? Where's Jesse?" "I gave you Joni's memories and of course to see a memory the way it really was perceived, you had to had to have lived it. You just lived Joni's entire life. And in tandum, her mind is melded with her brother's so you just indeed lived Jesse's life to. They're minds melded when they were about 14 so you saw them at the same time then. However once you 'became' Jesse as well you saw all his memories too. Quite the anamoly indeed." I couldn't think straight...or I could. I felt invaded, however I had let this parasite in. No..not parasite, but my mind did not only feel like mine. I felt like 3 people. "You're fucked up, i gotta go..." I knocked the chair over getting up and bee lined to the door. "Oh, but you'll be back" he warned with a sordid grin. Nothing around me looked new, but it's as if I had 3 perspectives of it, but they weren't separate. I was all of us. I was we. But I was only myself still. I understood Joni now and I wish I didn't. What was I thinking? I paced around looking at everyone with shifty eyes and desperately needing an escape? I'd never felt so trapped, but yet apathetic, but not -errr i don't know what i think. They think that. She thinks that. I think....jesus christ. What the fuck is wrong with me, i need something....I

"Oh there you are Gray, please come join us. Lana's observations have led us to discuss, why Jenn has a special hatred for our dear Yuna here." I stared at him too long and forced myselves through the motions of sitting down. "I don't believe Jenn hates me, she's much too kind for that. I know when people are in love they want to protect it and the rejection of feeling your love might be not completely genuine hurts very deeply. I don't want to make her feel that way" "Indeed so Yuna, however I think you just proved my argument right. Jenn wishes you were a bitch so she could hate you, but you make it rather impossible." Marcus grinned at her, was he flirting? I've never noticed flirting from a girl's perspective before. It made me uncomfortable. "Yeah, but you never answered why she wants to hate Yuna, I just don't get it!" lana said confused even though she had more information than anymore. "Shall you be the tie breaker Gray?" 6 sets of eyes all gazed over at him with anticipation. "Uhh...what am I voting on?" "We tryna figure out if that Jenn girl is a THOT or not!" Buddy clapped his big hands together, silently laughing at his own opinion. "Yeah me, Marcus, and obv Yuna don't think she is a bad person just.....yknow confused, but, Buddy, Rikku, and Jesse think she's a cunt... I mean bad person. yeah." I stared at Jesse and wanted to agree with him. At first glance it felt as if I was looking at a reflection. I also wanted to forgive woman? What? I guess I like Jenn....but is she a bitch? I can't stop thinking of calling her my chicka....what the fuck? What do I think. I thought I was confused before. Why do they care what I think of all times? "Oh my god! I told you that he had a crush on Jenn! See Yunie! they should totally date, he LIKES her" The room instantly grew quiet as loud stomps dominated the room. "Who the fuck has a crush on Jenn?" He scanned the room with murderous eyes. He stared at Marcus suspiciously longer than anyone, but landed on Gray. "Uhh hey man you got that hit you owe me...you....fucker?" Why was I saying the insult like a question. I have no idea how I talk. "You best stay the fuck away from her if you don't want me to kill your unborn children" That hit my chest heart, it hurt so deeply, yet I knew he had made that joke every day this week and it just meant kicking me in the nuts. The crotch. I had never once felt ashamed of having a penis, not once in my life, until now. But i didn't think that. She did. OR he. I was was having a very hard time finding deciding what 'I' thought. "Not if I do it first!" I yelled out impulsively. Is that what Jesse would say? That's so lame. Laughter burst out throught the room. I felt even more shame and wanted to say another self depricating joke just to get through it. I also wanted a drink reaaaaaally bad. Aiden looked even more suspicious at me. "Fuck you guys I got better shit to do" and with that I scurried away. As days went by I knew I was Gray again. I couldn't tell Joni what I did and she seemed none the wiser of my quiet acceptance of her. Jesse seemed more suspicious, but I knew now that his jokes most of the time were desperate paranoia to be in touch. I thought he was just a joker, but the new found knowledge I had made that simplification of him impossible. Like the lonely intimacy junkie I was I couldn't help it, but to want to see more lives now. Once again I was in the same position in Christians room, this time I sat across from him knee to knee with my palms up. He suggested since he had seen everyone's life that I should start with Yuna. How it felt to have to send Tidus for the 'greater good'. It seemed nice to think about it in a positive way and I was right. When I came back from Yuna's memories I had known pain, loss, and sorrow, but no matter what I had enjoyed everyone moment of life. She truly cherished every experience and every chance she had to be alive. She looked back on all her memories fondly because she got to live them. I was fine feeling the glow of Yuna's mind, but as with any high it wore off and I wanted more. Our sessions became more or less weekly as I let him shape me around the perspective of the comrades around me. Things got darker with Zack, but the integrity I felt and pride in my position made it all worth it. SOLDIER was my (his) life, yet it betrayed, used, and lied to him. It didn't matter what the organization had become SOLDIER was a code he took and vowed to keep to the end. To protect and serve mankind. To be a hero. I felt similarities in Rinoa's fighting spirit and the belief I had in myself with all her decisions. She really did like herself. She would think she was wrong for almost a split second and quickly decide she was right. It wasn't even her fault she had that big of an ego, she was taught to, yet despite it she rebelled for what she thought was right. Roxas proved to be more lonely, the loss of identity and the questioning of your own reality. With is, I saw Sora's too. The metaness of seeing memories through memories was not lost on me and added to a long state of confusion, when I became Gray again. The adventures of Zidane's rogue lifestyle, let me explore the world, feel things deeply, enjoy any piece of life you had, yet have the heart to mourn for important things and fight for truth. I now knew the appeal of cocaine for a performer. Marcus for the entirety of his life was utterly and completely pleased with himself. He hardly ever felt lonely, scared, or unsure, not in any existential way. The guy didn't even mind being dope sick, he reveled in the extremes of being in a human. He truly did believe Aiden was the most fascinating person he had ever met. He died almost as an inside joke to himself. Christian and I exchanged out quick goodbyes and spoke briefly of perhaps the next person he will show me. I left in a good mood. I safely made it out the door...or so I thought. Aiden burst out from down the hall and grabbed my arm and leaned in close to my face. He stared into my eyes long and hard in a way that made me feel terribly vulnerable. "So you went and saw Christian today?" "What do you mean? I mean yeah...I was looking for you man, back off what the fuck do you care?" "I think your a fucking idiot, but your life" "You hang out with him all the time so who are you to talk?" "yeah but what I do with bitch boy is a whole fucking other game to what you're trying to get off on. Dont' you see?! He'll give you sum chumps memories, all fun and games, but then he'll get bored. And by then you're probably hooked so he can stick his greasy fingers in you head and do whatever he wants. I'm sure he gave you Yuna's huh? How was being the happiest person ever? Or Aang? I bet that zen buddhist shit was real comforable. but just wait and then he'll give you something shitty ones like Tidus's. Ever thought about what a schitzophernic's brain looks like? Well i'll tell you what, it looks the same. From his point of view his life looked just as normal's as any fucker as boring as Jerry's" "Jerry?" "The dude my mom fucked. Oh you'll find out soon the way you're going. But you know what? When you get to be Gray again and know that you just lived the life of a crazy dude and no one believed you even though he or YOU knew you weren't crazy. Well jokes on you, turns out you were. You'll never forget understanding that fucker. Or maybe Gaara might be a blast. 12 years of complete anguish and loneliness, the pain, the need...the need....." He closed his eyes and started rocking back and forth, grabbing at his hair and scratching his temples. He was starting to sound pretty nuts, which didn't bother me usually, but this time I was terrified. Terrified, because for the first time since i've known the guy his paranoid, weirdo, bullshit that I always wrote off as crazy, was now starting to make sense to me. "I dont' give a fuck if you fuck up your life holding hands with faggot boy, but I won't have you get in the way of mine. You think Christian's a saint? A fucking weird, but thoughtful guy that helps you understand your friends and gets Aiden get his memories he forgot back?" The more he started saying his own name like it was a strangers, the tenseness in the atmosphere grew. I wanted him to stop talking, I didn't want him to do anything to risk what I wanted to keep doing, but if he disillusioned me how could I continue? " Yeah fucking right. Sure he'll give him back his memories (the him being Aiden himself), but not after he jumbles a bunch of random people's realites in there with them and have me guess which ones are mine. But I don't have to guess, I know the ones that are mine. Because they are the worst thing some one could ever do. If any of those good memories were mine, I wouldn't have forgotten them." Maybe Joni was wrong, if he goes through that every day he must be trying to make things right. Forgetting might be easier, but he takes the bad to have the good. "But if I see everyone's memories. I did everything. Meaning I did nothing. I don't know what bad things I did, so how's any of it my fault. Anyone's memory looks the same as mine. Aiden's memories are his fault. I didn't do them. All i know is what I know. Nothing. Everything. I'm no one but who I want to be. I just want one thing. But i can't have that one memory, I need all of them or else I am what I did. And I won't be him. I won't." Holy shit Joni was right, he's totally checked out. Pretending he isn't his own reality. I pondered about how delusional Jenn was about him. Was that her naturally or did Christian doctor her mind for the benefit of his friend. She's alive right so it doesn't matter he killed her? That's insane. It's all fucked up. I never wanted to think about these things in so much detail. "I got it dude, i'm done" He smiled for a second than decided to take the more stoic route and with dead eyes mutterred, "It will never be done" With that he pulled his jacket tight to his body as if giving himself a hug and stormed off.

#cheeseskittles

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