So I am a munver shipper, let's get that out of the way first so my bias is front and center.
Jason is a prick,we can all agree, but he didn't deserve to die like that. No fanfare, no mourning, not even time to realise what's happening, he's so scared and confused as the upside down tears him appart it's difficult to watch. There are no characters that I would stand my ground and say 100% deserved/deserve to die in this show but even if there was, Jason wouldn't be anywhere near the top of that list. He is a child, he is 18 years old , his girlfriend and best friend have just been murdered by what he thinks is a satanic cult in the space of 2 fuckin days. When we see him and Nancy in the gun show he's clearly been drinking, maybe since the funeral and Patrick's death which was at least 3 days ago. The boy is not ok and I'm not happy to see people celebrate his death like he deserved it. He was scared, alone, confused and out of his mind with grief and alcohol and again HES A CHILD. Was what he did to Max Lucas and Erica ok? Fuck no, but his life shouldn't be forfit for such a mistake. Imagine you're Jason. You've gone to the cops and they don't believe you, your friends don't believe you, most of the town doesn't believe you. They think Eddie is a murderer but the magic shit you've seen cant be explained any other way. It's just like with billy, of someone had taken 5 minutes to explain what the fuck was going on like they did with Eddie maybe things wouldn't have tuned out so badly.
Thanks for coming to my STed talk. Next time I'm going to explain my horrific idea for how some of the dead characters could come back in the upside down.
Edit: billy antis stay off this post, this isn't an Jason or Eddie good billy bad post. This is pro all 3 lads.
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> FERDINAND II.
And so your PLANT shall henceforth be known as FERDINAND II.
The thought of needing to inform FERDINAND I of his having a namesake makes you a bit ill, but you are already hard at work devising several plausible excuses for the gesture. Something about how you've named it after the one most invested in its naming, or how it is similarly prone to drooling. Yes. Yes, you will be able to deflect quite easily, should the need arise. It has nothing to do with your fondness for FERDINAND or your desire for a substitute in his imminent absence, no—again, you are not so prone to sentimentality. It's about the drool.
Well, anyway. Best to move on with your day and think about something else, lest you grow maudlin or cultivate further affection for the PLANT. May the GODDESS be merciful and never cause you to develop inclinations that could be described as paternal.
Now that your plant has received sufficient care, it is time for COFFEE. You set to making your morning brew. By CHANCE, there happens to be sufficient water remaining in the kettle for FERDINAND I to have TEA, should he wish it.
Per your TIMEPIECE, it is now a quarter to eight. You have made excellent progress on your PRE-BREAKFAST TO-DO LIST thus far: the only remaining task is to remove FERDINAND. You are starting to get rather peckish and would like to be rid of him quickly, but over the past week, you have found that extracting the man from YOUR QUARTERS is a more arduous task than it ought to be.
#007 | < | > | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | SEE ALL POSTS
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desmond, in the grey: my dad did WHAT?!
basim, live watching the events of william bastard’s conception: this is too much for me to handle 🧍🏼💀
Connected to The William Miles Gets A Woman Knocked Up Grieving Desmond’s Death idea (and its minisequel) and the Statistically speaking she would be 30~40 years younger than him.
He appeared before Basim out of the blue. Basim didn’t even know who he was or when he had appeared. Yggdrasil’s prison kept him stationary and the Norns weren’t really programmed to try and mimic human behavior enough to keep a conversation going.
So the sudden appearance of a figure clad in the light of their devices was a welcomed sight.
Basim didn’t really mind that said figure had hijacked the Norns, connecting their processing power to his own place in the Gray.
Basim didn’t even know where in the Gray he resided, only that the figure had more access to the Calculations than Yggdrassil and the Norns had.
Basim did realize that he wasn’t there for the Norns’ access to the Calculations.
He was there to make the Norns process the might influx of information coming from the Calculations, using them to build his own processing unit catered to his specific need.
“You wish to find a future where the ‘Catastrophe Singularity’ does not occur?” Basim asked curiously as he watched the Norns be worked to their bones, feeling no sympathy over them. They were programs given human-like forms to make it easier to talk to them.
The figure did not acknowledge him and Basim continued to speak anyway, walking towards the stump that was slowly turning into a tree made of golden light, “I’ll be able to help you. I know quite a lot about the Calculations. Not as much as the Capitoline Triad, I admit, but being imprisoned here did leave me with no other avenue of entertainment other than-”
The moment he touched the stump, the Norns glitched around them and a large piece shatter from the stump, slowly floating to his eye level. Basim took a step back as he said, “I apologize, I did not mean to-”
The loud moan coming from the shard caught him off-guard, making him frown.
“Verdandi.” The form ordered and Basim felt like he recognize his voice but cannot remember where.
“January 21, 2013. Portland Oregon.” Verdandi answered immediately.
Basim blinked.
“Oh, Bill! Yes, oh fu-”
Basim glanced at the glowing form staring at him before saying, “A recap would be appreciated, Urd.”
“William Miles, drowning in guilt over the death of his son, the chosen one Desmond Miles, and the finality of his divorce, is now having a one-night stand with a descendant of Basim Ibn Ishaq. This single sexual encounter will lead to the conception of the Sage of Aletheia and Loki’s child, Fenrir.”
Basim’s eyes widened.
His son?
His son’s Sage?
How was that-
The glowing figure disappeared and Basim stared at the empty space he used to stand on.
“Not a very polite guest, is he?” Basim commented, ignoring the moans coming from both his descendant and some man named William Miles. Basim sighed and turned to look at Urd as he ordered, “Send me all important data concerning William Miles.”
Time was hard to grasp in the Gray so the most accurate way to explain what happened is was…
After an unknown time have passed, Basim absolutely regretted reading the report Urd compiled about William Miles.
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cw suicide mention & imagery
original play idea where people seem to live their normal lives but the audience gets the feeling that something’s wrong, there’s a tension and there are things that obviously go unsaid that hang in the air between the characters uncomfortably long enough until the last member of the audience has filled in the blanks in their own way.
there is a figure off to the side, a very young man in a suit, watching them, unmoving and silent, and as the scenes and progress, as characters leave and appear, as the setting changes, the young man is always there. no one interacts with him, but there are moments when they almost do. when the characters stop what they’re doing when they stand close to him, and appear to listen. but there’s nothing.
the sound of TV news reports, all playing over each other, create an uncanny and uncomfortable buzzing that never, never stops, and there are too many to really make out the words. they get more silent the closer they get to the young man in the suit, quieting down to nothing when they stand by him to listen — but the characters seem unaware of the change. so does the young man, statuesque though he is.
then there’s a little girl, covered in dirt, her hair askew, her cheeks rosy — the image of having spent the day outside, playing in the dirt, a smile on her face, her eyes big, as she skips towards the young man and asks, “can we go now? can we play?”
the young man cards his hands through her hair and says, “you go ahead, i’ll be right there.”
but still he stays there, seated.
everything continues as before, but the characters slowly undergo a complete change in character, in routine, in appearance. the old man who wore suits is not dressed in sweats and old, worn out, dirty shirts. the sweet, kindhearted young adult is now quiet and apathetic. the woman who, in the beginning, was talking her friend’s ear off and could barely stand still is unmoving now, staring out into nothingness.
the buzzing and bustling background noise is slowly, gradually getting louder as the characters become increasingly nonverbal and unmoving. the lights dim down.
then all at once, after a crescendo, the noise stops suddenly, the lights turn off completely, before, with warm, yellow light, a woman we’ve seen before — as she stares into nothingness — appears on the stage, slowly approaching the young man as if unsure of her body but undeniable in her grace.
they smile at each other for a moment.
m, whispering: you’re not supposed to be here, not yet
w, cradling his cheeks: i was always supposed to be here long, long before you
m: i know. i’m sorry, i—
w: i know. i forgive you. i’ve always forgiven you
m, after a while: but not yourself
the woman shakes her head.
w: a mother will never forgive herself for burying her child, and a father will forgive himself even less. (a beat) you have such a handsome face.
m: it’s not your fault
w: so beautiful, those eyes, i’ve missed you so much
m: listen to me, it’s not your fault!
w: and your hair! papa would be so glad to know that—
m: mother. mama. listen to me. it’s not your fault
w, tearful and whispering: you were supposed to be fine. you were always supposed to be fine. it was never supposed to be this bad, we were supposed to help, but—
m: i know. i tried, i really did. both times
in that moment, the little girl comes skipping on stage again, approaching them with her wagging ponytail.
g: what are you doing here, mama? will you play with me now? it’s been so long!
the woman gasps, her tears getting the better of her as she falls to her knees and pulls the girl to her chest, who readily returns the hug
w, sobbing, kissing her cheek: hi, baby. yes, i’ll play with you, of course i will. let’s go.
the young man helps his mother up, allowing her to pull him into a hug, and she whispers: “as much as i love her with all my heart, i’m so proud of the young man you’ve grown into. and now i have you both, just as i always did.”
the young man brushes a kiss to her cheek, then lets her go, watching as his mother disappears with the little girl.
m: i have to stay a while. i’ll follow you soon.
(woman and girl, hand in hand, exeunt)
the lights dim, and the buzzing returns, accompanied by the sound of dragging footsteps the audience cannot see, until everything’s back in total darkness. the noise stays. growing louder in increments, leaving the audience uncomfortable and unsure if this was it.
as they quiet down, we hear a man, sobbing uncontrollably, before eerie silence takes his place, too.
the curtain falls.
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