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writing-frenzy · 3 years

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Seer!Airplane + Harem AU

Brain: Let’s give SQH a Harem :D

Me: SQH doesn’t know what to do with himself, he wouldn’t know what the fick to do with a harem :|

Brain: :D of course, the man doesn’t realize he even has one.

Me:... wut

Brain: And here is the totally new AU drabbled and noted out for how it happens~

....

So, my brain gave me this, so I hope to infect others with it as well.

Ever since Airplane (Shang Huan), was young, he’s always had strange dreams and an interesting ability with words and languages. Not to mention just how he always seemed to know certain things, simple really, like how he knew to bring an umbrella one sunny day that wouldn’t remain that way, to even what paths to take to avoid the bullies in his life. He’s grown this way, never noticed it was strange or unusual, and with parents more focused on tearing each other apart and ignoring any memories of when they were together, Airplane figures it’s just like the rest of his anxieties and worries, though at least the knowing can get him out of being beaten up or a perfect sale at the supermarket.

(The nightmares aren’t worth it; nameless amounts of people, that if he looks too hard at, he can know their entire backstories and futures no longer possible, cut short for blood and sport and greed.)

It is only one day, with desperation and hunger biting in his being, dreams stolen and ruined by others (And how was it, did he know this was still the best outcome? What could be worse- no, don’t ask that, it could always lead to ruin that question-) that Airplane, with only his little talent for script writing and his nightmares to aid him, starts to write, hoping for just enough money to get dinner eventually.

It... proves surprisingly popular. Just write what he dreams, maybe embellish here and there, take out that part, work around here, and just ignore that certain event and hey, this story is surprisingly coming together well. Are there a few plot holes? Sure, but considering the literal mass grave of answers for those holes, Airplane is content to leave them like that (pleasedon’tmakehimwritethatseeingitwasalreadyhorrifyinghedoesnotwanttoreliveit).

Things are going good; all his hospital bills that his father’s insurance doesn’t cover have been paid, his rent money has already been turned in, and hey, he even has some extra cup noodles. How can life get any better? (thedreamscouldstop-)

And then the world turns strange; weird creatures have started to be discovered, strange flora has been unearthed, and natural disasters seem to not be so natural as once thought.

Not to mention just how people have changed as well; or if they were ever regular people at all. Some seem to turn feral, no mind to think with as they act like zombies all of a sudden, supernatural feats of strength suddenly coming about...

Strangers suddenly flying about on swords, letting loose great shows of light...

Airplane ignores it; it’s all he can do. (Thereisnothingtobedonebutwait.) He codes for his story, makes some noodles to enjoy as he reads some comments, and naturally dies. (right on time)

Airplane is admittedly taken off guard when he actually wakes up, back in his crappy little apartment, terrible bruising all up his arms (therearesomanypathssolittletime), when he looks around and sees the change in the world.

And he knows; his stories are no longer mere words and nightmares anymore, but now combined with his waking world, now and forever.

- Read under for more notes and such on this world~

So, basically, Airplane/Shang Huan has been dreaming of the world where his stories takes place, the PIDW world, and using it to make money because he is a desperate little gremlin. (Now, with his powers, he can see multiple paths, and all, but he doesn’t see everything, especially if he himself changes fate, making the paths shrink and become a little more hazy.)

So one day, his world and PIDW world merge, causing countless calamities and disasters, even as the world heals and blossoms under it all. See, what happens is that when Bing-ge’s Harem finally turned on him and all (I don’t know if this is canon or fanon but it fits), Bing-ge in turn used the Wrath of the Heavens, which is not something even the craziest of Heavenly Demons would do if that says anything, which wreck a whole bunch of shit and mashed a few planes of existence together.

A lot of people died because of this... and yet, a lot of peeps were brought back because of this as well. Airplane did in fact die because of being electrocuted, but because of that, the energy left from the WOH merged with it, ending up kickstarting and powering him up instead of killing him outright.

And it is a very good thing SQH got that power up; he is going to have so many nightmares about it, but being able to manipulate, control, and use electricity and lightening are what ensure him survival for a good month before his city is made livable again. (He would do worse to survive, has done worse, what is a little electrical trauma in the name of his life?)

And look, even his intuition and foresight seemed to have greatly improved! Yay? (Nay so many n i g h t m a r e s)

He’ll be fine, he can walk it off. But as it is, Airplane starts to be rather... lucky with some of his finds.

Ironically, it starts with a man dressed in pale blues, eye tired and ever so dead, blood covering his fancy fantasy robes, a familiar crest/symbol (To Airplane) stitched over where the heart would be. A Traitor abused and used up, nothing left but rock bottom and yet still willing to dig if it meant living. (Oh, how that rings familar~)

Airplane has seen the past of Shang Family’ Honorable Third Son Shang Shaoqing and the future of the backstabing An Ding Peak Lord Shang Qinghua. Airplane knows that this is a desperate man who has done all he could to survive, with the mind like so many steel traps and mazes to dig around in...

Airplane saves them, avoiding a slow death the man would have had, earning him gratitude and suspicion all at once. The Writer doesn’t care, he just knows that having this guy on his side is just a logical choice; the man not only has more insider knowledge then anyone else in the world, but even knows how to use it.

On Shang Qinghua’s side.

With all the karmatic debt I have, I can not avoid this Life Debt... but once I pay my debt, I am gonna blow this popsicle stand.

Huh, this guy is actually kinda useful, maybe I should stick around

OH FUCK WHY DOES HE HAVE HEAVENLY TRIBULATION LIGHTNING?! HE NEEDS TO START CULTIVATING STAT

WHY IS THIS MAN SUCH A DISASTER?!?! NOW I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HIM AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T GET HURT.

*Airplane tenderly taking care of his injuries, nervous smile on his face even as it is so soft* “You didn’t have to take that attack but... thank you for having my back” SdndejnejdbbhjD no, you have no right looking so cute, fuck why is this happening?!

.... This man is a fucking Seer... Actual, full blown, Doomsayer Seer, Not the Succubus Soothsayers who can just see little things, no, actual, can literally effect the fabric of Fate and Destiny Seer.... Fuck his life, he probably owes this guy even more now...

*Shang Qinghua snarks in response, only to get equally snarked in reply* .... I won’t say I’m in love...

Fuck, if anything happens to his disaster of a Seer he will go on a massacre and then probably become a demonic cultivator to revive him...

So yeah, over the course of maybe a few months, Shang Qinghua has regretsTM and Airplane gets an actually loyal bodyguard... Meanwhile~

Airplane: -Sigh- As nice as it is to have Shang Qinghua around, it won’t last forever; once the man pays back his debt, he just leave (like everyone else).

And then time for drama! The two get separated by unsteady space rips, Airplane having enough time to yell out a safe place for them to meet again before they end up on opposite sides to each other. So now, not only does Airplane have to work on surviving, but on the (hopeful) reunion between the two.

Cue Airplane’s next ‘Lucky Find’

Airplane hears the sound of sword and spell before he ever actually sees anything. Looking over the top of his nice ledge, safe enough from from any ‘friendly fire’, the young man feels his eyes widen when he sees who is fighting.

A beautiful, tall man in cream and tan colored robes, the ashen brunet directing their sword around them, using their other hand to throw out talismans when too crowded. And oh, how the mob surrounds this tired, too kind man, so weary for lost, all his grief stricken love no where to go in the lost of his family. (Oh, how jealous one can be, that someone got that love, no matter how fleeting it was in the end)

Airplane taking in Mu Qingfang, a healer forced to be a killer, a man with so much heartbreak in his soul, even as he determinedly live on, that shattered heart still wanting to help as much as it could. The Seer takes on how the other will die here, nothing left at all of such a heart, and in the end, Airplane helps, letting loose lightning upon the mob as he does.

Just makes sense, to have a Healer with you if you can.

On Mu Qingfang’s side:

This man is terrifying, how does he have tribulation lightning at his command??? but he did save me there, it’s only right I accompany him until I can pay it off (not like I have other things to do)

I am very, very grateful you saved me, but can you for all that is health PLEASE REST?!

Oh to the gods, how is a disaster like you alive? No, don’t eat that!

*Airplane, a tired smile on his face as he shows off some potent healing herbs he found* “I managed to find them, a little tricky but I was wondering if you can make use of them, maybe? I remember you saying you were running low and all.” .... damn his heart for being weak to sincere care and actually thoughtful gifts.

*after a terrifying nightmare, Airplane nearly bleeding from his screams, eyes so haunted and terrified even as he clings onto Mu Qingfang* “Please, I-I I just don’t want to be alone right now... please.” bjhbdjd shit, how can he say no, letting the other cling to them as they finally fall asleep. (Do not think about how cute the other is, cuddled up against him)

...A Seer... a fully realized, Fate altering, Destiny denying Seer... Gods, that explains so damn much... Maybe he can make him a Dreamless Night tea? would at least help with headaches if nothing else.

And so, over the time they have together, Airplane has unknowingly received the care and affection of one powerful as heck healer, who can and will be willing to cut a bitch if it means they have to.

But on Airplane: *le sigh* ah, once they feel like I’m well enough, they’re probably go back to trying to find their Martial Brothers and Sisters.... I’ll at least help them as much as I can...

Now, they don’t get separated: which is good, considering this next er... ‘Lucky’ Find.

They feel the temperature drop before they ever actually see the cause. Warily, the two men look to each other, but with no other way around it, move forward through the incredibly icy landscape.

It does not take them long to find the cause of it.

It is a Demon, Skin pale with a ghostly blue tint to their skin, beautiful snow white antlers branching out from their hand, ice collecting on the ends to make them even more deadly beautiful then before. And yet, for all that deadly beauty, are those ice like eyes, backdropped in the night sky look ever so tired, so betrayed (like always)

Mo Bolin, formerly Mobei-Jun is not one who has nothing left, but his willpower is draining, trapped as he is between the cursed artifact before him, no hope to escape it unless someone is willing to help.

Airplane sees this demon, this man who he greatly admired and aspired to be like, able to stand on their own and keep standing no matter what, no matter what the world came at them with, no matter the misery that had twisted a previously loving and warm child into the hardened, determined Warrior before him.

Letting his Lightning destroy the Artifact, the world weary youth takes the demon’s face in his hands, letting those icy night eyes look into his lightning bright ones, Mu Qingfang quiet but his sword at the ready behind him.

It will not be needed, as his Seer powers go to work.

“You find so much betrayal, just seemingly never able to escape it.

You soul has had so much darkness and hurt just let sit.

You Fate is said to be a cruel one for a cruel being,

Hurt, fear, blood, Ice, and broken bonds and dreams are all I am seeing,

I do Not agree.

So, From this wicked Fate I will set you free.” and as those eyes stare into each other, Mo Bolin can’t stop how he gasps, hand going to his heart, feeling lighter then he has in years.

Meanwhile, Airplane faints, having healed a better Fate for the former Mobei-Jun draining him good.

On Mobei-Jun’s Part

sdhkhbfwkkjdejdehjdehj Why? Just Why? What’s the reason the Seer did that?

Well, considering what he did, Mobei/Mo Bolin will have to find a way to pay the other back.

...Why is this Seer so Cute? He wants to pet it. (note: hitting will make the Healer stab him)

*Airplane, tired out from a long day having to fight through a bit battle, smiling in thanks, help Mu Qingfang with patching everyone up* “You know, I really admire you; your strength and determination to always do your best, no matter how many people try to tear you down... I wish I could be like that.” wait what, no, you’re perfect like you are, you little gremlin seer. (Mu Qingfang agrees.)

*Airplane, suffering from a Fever, which means he has to cuddle with a certain Ice Demon to cool down* “Ah, sorry for troubling you like this, my ideal man, but you are so cool... *snuggles* .... Damnit.

Like, Mobei-Jun/Mo Bolin knows Airplane can kick some ass already, but by the ancestors does he love seeing this little disaster of a man just wreck everyone around him.

So yeah, add one very smitten Demon Lord to the roster~ :D Oh, the loyalty was hard earned, and there is no way Mobei-Jun will be willing to part, even as he has to share with a Healer and whoever this Shang-Er they will be seeing soon.

For Airplane: ah, so cool to see my Ideal Man, but of course there is no way he’ll stay by my side forever, what with all the things he probably needs to do.

and this is all I got for the Harem on my side: now for the dynamics with each other:

Mobei-Jun and Mu Qingfang: the demon respects the healer greatly, and since they are both quiet peeps they don’t have much conflict. as for the Healer, after his sect got destroyed, he’s had to do a lot of things to make sure him and his surviving disciples lived, so he’s not too against demons, and Mobei-Jun is very useful in fighting, so for now they cool.

Both when they see Shang Qinghua; ... D:<

On Mobei-Jun’s side: his little traitorous spy just had to be back and be that Shang-Er close to Airplane. He does not like this, wants to smack the other around, but that would upset Airplane So he just glares. Shang Qinghua is not happy with this arrangement either, fully prepared to curse the other out and everything, but not going to stir the pot up more then he has to.

On Mu Qingfang: .... his backstabing martial brother is alive, but the thing is that Mu Qingfang and his disciples wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for the other; Shang Qinghua had saved them, transporting them away from the bloodshed that was about to happen. On Shang Qinghua’s part, the Healer was the only Peak Lord to give him any damn respect and care, so he of course gave him an out along with his own peak disciples; he pays back debts.

(This is ironically the reason he got killed by Mobei-Jun, because he saved those disciples)

So, there is much drama for a while, the three having big shouting matches and discourse, but these guys will turn into Enemies to Frenemies to Salt Lords and then to the Airplane Protection squad... because when these three get together and agree on something, well, you just combined the only competent people from PIDW together~

And they all love Airplane :D

Thank you all for reading the insanity of this, I enjoyed writing it out~

#SVSSS #Scum Villain Self Saving System #Scum Villain Self-Saving System #Shang Qinghua #Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky #SVSSS AU #Seer!Airplane AU #OG!Shang Qinghua #Mu Qingfang #Mobei-Jun

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

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Top 5 GOOD Things About Season Two

Oh, season two... how you hurt me so.

Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about this game-- S2 of TWDG is my least favorite of all five games. I could probably give you a top TEN things that I hate about season two, but... while I don’t love it, I do believe that there is good to be found in it. That’s what I want to discuss today.

I did have some help brainstorming ideas for this list, so big thanks to @pi-creates, @kaylee-wolf, @taurusicorn2400, and @daisystarss for bouncing ideas around with me! :D

5. The Lee dream sequence.

This scene is super well done. The only reason that it’s so low on the list is because I tend to forget about it due to all the bullshit surrounding it. It usually isn’t until Arvo shoots Clementine that I remember Lee’s gonna show up and make me cry. Then he leaves all too quickly, and it’s back to the Kenny/Jane bullshit train.

But pushing aside the shitshow, I love this scene. Of course, emotions are all over the place seeing Lee again given the state he was in at the end of s1. Plus there’s something about seeing baby Clementine again after being an older version of her that gets me.

Their talk is interesting, too, calling back to your choices about Lilly and Carley/Doug, plus discussing Duck being bit. The part that’s always stood out to me, and I’m sure everyone else, is when Clementine asks Lee why people do the things they do.

And Lee’s response is one that doesn’t just apply to s2, it applies to several characters over the course of the series: “Clem, people don't always make sense... 'Cause bad things happen to everyone. And it's hard to keep bein' yourself after they do.”

As the conversation goes on, he also says, “Well, it's not like math, Clem. Sometimes there just isn't a right answer... but part of growing up is doing what's best for the people you care about...even if sometimes...that means hurting someone else.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“...It’s not that easy.”

Ugh, it’s so good. It ends with Lee asking what he can say to make Clementine feel better, and it really just hurts because y’know it’s not real, y’know that Clementine’s dreaming all of this and Lee’s going to go away.

Overall a powerful scene that gets me every time.

4. Clementine walking through the snowstorm

Okay look.... I adore this scene. Everything about it.

Like okay, we have the stupid bullshit that is Kenny and Jane being literal children in the truck, then we nearly crash. Kenny leaves to look for gas, Jane gets Clementine to drive which dumb idea Jane and she crashes.

That part sucks, but then the actual greatness begins. Jane runs off with AJ, and Clementine’s left alone with nothing but her gun as she begins her walk through the terrible blizzard.

It has such a sense of loneliness to it-- hearing Clementine shiver and walk around calling out for help before going silent, the song ‘It’s Out There’ that plays while the wind whips and whistles, and then seeing all the frozen walkers standing around like statues really gives you a sense that something terrible is going to happen. It’s this weird calm before the storm kind of thing that also happens to take place during a harsh snow fall? if that makes sense?

It’s a beautiful scene but it’s also sad, y’know? Sad because once again, Clementine is all alone. She’s been through so much bullshit, and this bullshit train isn’t even at it’s final stop. She’s alone, she’s still injured from when Arvo shot her, she’s gonna freeze to death if she doesn’t keep moving, she has no idea where the fuck Kenny, Jane, and AJ are, and just... it’s a lot.

But damn it, it’s so good.

3. AJ is born

AJ being born is one of the best things to happen in S2, and not just because AJ is a super interesting character himself in S2 or even what his being born does for the story.

If AJ wasn’t born here, then we wouldn’t have had him in TFS where he finally got to become this compelling character and player in the overall story. Don’t get me wrong, his birth does bring an cool aspect to S2 when you willfully ignore how the hell he’s managed to stay alive and healthy the entire time.

Not only that, but we get to see the start of Clementine’s relationship with him. It doesn’t matter what choices you pick, Clementine shows time and time again that she cares about AJ. She nearly breaks down when she believes he died in the snow before the Kenny and Jane fight, then cries again when she discovers he’s alive.

I enjoy the big sister aspect they went with for Clementine [it definitely beats ANF’s mom nonsense] and I like the growth it shows with her relationship to Rebecca as well... even though that could’ve been written a lot smoother. Rebecca just kind of does a 180 and they blame it on pregnant hormones which.... eh, okay sure.

For all it’s flaws, this season gave us the start of AJ and I can’t hate it for that, y’know?

2. Carver is a pretty great antagonist

I like Carver. I think he’s a great antagonist and I really wish they hadn’t killed him off as early as they did.

I find him to be a fascinating character study, y’know?

From the very beginning, even before we get to physically meet him, we’re told that Carver is a threat. The cabin group are running from someone, and we can easily put the pieces together that Rebecca might be pregnant with his baby rather than Alvin’s.

Then we actually get to meet him when he comes to the cabin and it’s well executed. From Sarah having a panic attack at seeing a glimpse of him through the window, to his friendly and charismatic nature, to the way he talks to Clementine and just... it’s unsettling.

He’s clever, and he knows that Clementine’s covering for the cabin group, but he’s trying to trick her into giving him info. I also hate how smug he gets when he finds the photo of Sarah, but then he just looks at her, and asks, “You have no idea who these people are, do you?” or whatever and just... something about that, y’know?

Then his “You have a nice day,” as he leaves and you know he’s coming right back with more people, so the group has gotta go.

Then of course comes his later scenes where he shows up with his people to the lodge, murders Walter while saying he didn’t want to do it but Kenny left him no choice, and he can possibly murder Alvin if Kenny keeps shooting which is a huge holy shit moment because of how Rebecca reacts.

Ugh, y’know just the way Carver talks to Rebecca and is so matter-of-fact about the baby being his and how he justifies his actions. Like, we can’t forget Reggie and how Carver threw him off the roof only to turn around like “I liked Reggie, he was chill, but he was weak.”

I dunno man, it’s super well done!

I truly believe Carver could’ve gone down as the best antagonist in the series if the writers hadn’t killed him off so damn early to make more room for Kenny to become the new antagonist of the season. Ugh.

I don’t even have an issue with how he died, either. Having Kenny kill him the way he did makes sense and it’s brutal, it was just premature.

Anyway, Carver’s pretty great. One of the best parts of S2.

1. Clementine

I mean, are we really surprised? Clementine is what makes this game playable. She’s the best written, most consistent character [which I know is a bit iffy because we do make choices for her but ya get me] and her growth over the season is the most compelling compared to the other characters.

Hell, of the four Clementine’s we get across the series, this Clementine is my second favorite! She’s fantastic!

I also love how self-aware she is that her group is just a bunch of morons and she’s gotta do everything around here, but then the same group underestimates her time and time again even though she’s proven herself to be the most competent.

And on top of that, she goes through so much bullshit. Right from the start, Christa’s still cold to her after what happened to Omid and the baby, then she gets separated from Christa and nearly drowns in a river, then she comes across a dog that attacks and nearly killing her, forcing her to fight back which kills the dog, and then when she finds some decent people, she passes out and this group thinks it’s a walker bite because their “doctor” is incompetent. They lock her up in a shed because ??? so she has to break in and steal supplies to sew up her own arm, which she does and you feel the pain of it the whole way through, BUT THEN she gets attacked by a walker and has to fight it off before the dumb dumb crew come in to help her.

And that’s just the first part of episode one.

It’s like the writers were like “Hey, let’s torture Clem so that we can get easy sympathy points from the audience” and then dialed it back a bit because if you look at some of the initial concepts for this season... oof.

But really, S2 in a nutshell is basically “Clementine does anything and gets punished for it.”

However, it’s not all bad and a lot of it does make her story all the more interesting as it progresses. She goes from a young girl who needs a group to survive, to a survivor herself who is capable of taking care of herself and those she loves.

This part pertains to my personal ending for this game-- So, by the time we reach the shit show that is the Kenny and Jane fight, I want Clementine to get as far away from both of them as fucking possible. For me, the best endings Clementine can have is to either go alone, or to go to Wellington.

Wellington’s my personal favorite because I like the idea of Clementine being in a community with strong walls and people to help with AJ. I mean, we gotta throw out the logic when it comes to AJ surviving because in every single endings, he should be dead.

Honestly, that’s the only thing that keeps me from shooting Kenny. Hell, in my opinion, walking off into the woods with him instead of staying at Wellington is the worst ending in the entire game-- I’d rather go with ding dong dingus Jane than stick around with Kenny, but for me, neither of those are a good conclusion to Clementine’s story and character in S2

Anyway, endings aside, Clementine is the only part of the story that doesn’t make me side eye the writers the way I do for everything else... well, I side eye them sometimes but S2 as a whole is such a mess that it takes a lot to not straight up glare at them and the amount of fuck ups they had here.

Clementine is hands down the best part of S2.

--- Honorable Mentions

-Big brother Luke in the first couple episodes -This game does have a bunch of different endings that you can get, which is pretty neat until you realize that they mean practically nothing come ANF and they’re totally unbalanced sooo... nice try? -Uncle Pete is pretty cool -The setting of the ski resort is super nice and cozy until murder happens. -In fact, the snowy nature is visually pretty and the skyboxes are some of the best in the series.

---

So what do you think? Do you agree with this list? What are some of your favorite parts of Season 2? Are you looking at this and asking where the Kenny entry is? Well, I’m sure if you scroll up just a wee bit, you’ll find your answer.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Character Deaths That Made Me Side-Eye the Writers

#twdg t5f #twdg #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg kenny #twdg jane #twdg luke #twdg carver #twdg lee #twdg rebecca #twdg alvin

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at-lxs · 4 years

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• Cade is born three years after Tess, enough time for Tess' parents to be like "did we fuck up?" and then they have Cade who is...the opposite of Tess and are like ah no, our daughter is just Like That

• Tess is not small, but she is quiet. She blends in. She's unsettling up close and from afar, watching you, but middle distance is comfort zone. You see her face but you're sure she's like that because she's lost in thought, not watching you.

• Cade is used to this by the time he is old enough to realise it is not normal for your older sister to have dead doll eyes and a flat expression and no smile lines by the time she's graduated highschool as you're like halfway through it and your friend leans over and says hey, that chick's weird and you say that's my sister and your friend winces.

• Tess is someplace else by the time Cade graduates, with her statement of watch the car not like a warning or a hope because Tess doesn't Do That, it's just a request that while she can't, Cade will do it for her. He'll watch the car.

• Before she leaves though, Tess is a good older sister.

• She never runs out of patience for the more emotional member of the family. Cade cries about a bunch of things, largely out of his control, which is when he cries the hardest - he stood on a snail once, he tripped over a dog, he dropped a guy's coffee, the list is endless and Tess is always there to sit, lend her shoulder, pat him on the back and go. It's not exactly comfort, but it's never shame like others offer. Never you're such a fucking pansy, even your sister cries less than you. Cade appreciates it in a way others dont get.

• Tess has never cried, actually. She got handed her baby brother at three years old, looked him over curiously, and then gave him to her dad so she could eat. Since then, Tess has been to three funerals and one emotional wedding. She's never teared up. Cade is sort of jealous of this cause he's meant to be a man, damnit till Tess leans down and says, quiet, if people make fun of you for crying, tell me and I'll beat them up. She's eleven the first time she says it, but she means it.

• Cade would get angry on the behalf of her, because people make fun of the girl with a large lack of expression - never to her face, but out of ear shot - and Cade mentions it all sad and crying cause you're a good sister and Tess pats his shoulder and says whatever other people say about me doesn't mean shit unless I agree, so Cade nods and goes to sleep and says shut the fuck up, man, you're just jealous she doesn't look at you like you're a king when a bully jeers at Tess.

• He gets punched for it, obviously, but Tess comes in and takes care of it and stands by his shoulder when the bully walks out to his dad's car. Cade says I didn't mean to get him in trouble and Tess says I know and that's that. It's acknowledgement and no thank you and Cade doesn't need her to thank him for being a good little brother when she's a good older sister.

• There's an ugly phase where Cade hates her like he hates everything because he's young and angry and he cries a lot and his friends keep saying you're a fucking pansy and Tess listens to his sobbing breakdown about how he's so fucking weak, he cried over a dead bird, and Tess says I'm too weak to carry feelings like you do and it's the oddest fucking thing Cade's ever heard. He looks up and says what? and Tess continues you feel so much that you have to cry to let it out. There is so much in you that it breaks. I've never been strong enough to carry that.

• Their dad Mike listens from outside their door and smiles, just a bit, because Tess doesn't lie, and Cade sounds mystified, and he is gonna have words with the school that lets this bullying happen. Tess gets Cade his favourite ice cream and they watch a movie together, Cade sobbing at the end, Tess quiet beside him.

• I don't want, Tess says, very simply, when Cade asks her what he thinks he should be when he grows up, when he's young and his older sister somehow manages to make him fly. He doesn't recognise the meaning of it then, but Tess dies, and Cade sits in the car she and their dad repaired and sobs, remembers; I don't want, so that you'll know what you want to be belongs to you.

• She means; I don't want, so want for yourself. She means; I don't want, so be whatever you want to be. She means; I don't want, so when you want something, don't think about what I might want for you.

• Tess dies, and she says watch the car, and Cade becomes a therapist for kids who are so much, and strong enough to carry that, to stand in front of the dam and survive what comes out. He says, my older sister said she was too weak to carry emotion, and there is so much inside us that it has to break, and feeling is not a weakness: feeling so much is strength in being able to carry something so big for so long that it has to break so you can breathe afterwards.

• She was not a conventional good sister, and she was barely a person, and her personality consisted of punching the things inside you that you never even wanted pointed out, but Cade misses her, and Tess in his head says you're strong enough to carry this and Cade keeps going.

• Mike and Tess got along for very simple reasons, of which there were two: she was his kid, and she got the job done. He asked her to take out trash and she did and he asked her to hold Cade and she did and he told her to make sure Cade's bullies didn't get away with shit and she did.

• He sticks her in fighting classes and she's a model student. She's good, and she grows tall like her dad, graduating at six foot four inches, broad and apathetic and good at the shit she's trained in. The classes are satisfying, she thinks. Release of tension. Fighting is focus and rhythm and she still likes her back alley brawl moves, but this is nice, too.

• Mike hands her a grease stained rag when Cade's over at a friends house one weekend and says you're gonna learn how to fix a car and means: love is not emotion, it is dedication and time shared. It's a lesson Tess keeps. Love is not a feeling, because she can't feel. It is time, and dedication, and her dad teaching her the mechanics of an old car, and that's all she needs.

• She has a dream where someone cuts her open and she's all car parts and engine grease like blood, oil in her mouth, the lucid dream reality of seeing rust on her ribs made of cracked metal. This is a dream Irca enjoys, the idea of metal inside. A conduit. A lightning rod. Tess wakes up and brushes her teeth and doesn't lose sleep over it. A dream is a dream, and logic says she's muscle, fat, and bone.

• Her mother isn't always around, but she's the loud love. She kisses Cade's messy hair and reminds him to brush his teeth and pulls out a game of sudoku when Cade is at school but Tess is sick and feverish and red eyed, stuck in her bed and emotionless still. They get along like friends do. It's hard to feel loved by a face that doesn't show it but Tess says this is car maintenance in her fever haze and Allison nods and accepts it. This is car maintenance.

• Mike says I told her love is maintaining it and it makes a little more sense.

• Yes, her watch the car means: I'm asking you to maintain this love because I can't.

• Tess shows up randomly in their house years after she dies, taller and bigger and scarred, her eyes gold in an unfamiliar place, and Cade says Tess? from where he's standing on the stairs and Tess says hello and it's not an emotional reunion like the movies but Cade cries and Tess says you watched the car and Cade, who knows what that means from Mike saying, as they were cleaning out the old car, this is what Tess did with me to show she loved us, cries into her shoulder.

• Allison and Mike come home early with Questions because Cade called and Tess says I didn't leave on purpose and that Means Something when your daughter values choice and maintainence, and it's muddled but it means: I'm sorry and I didn't mean to leave and if I'd been here I'd have maintained the car, I promise.

• She says I have to leave again in a week, and the exact time limit was vague, and can we work on the car again? It's a goodbye she gets to have, this time. She isn't choosing to leave but she's giving them a warning.

• Cade is curious as to what the fuck is up, and your eyes were gold? and Tess sparks her hands up with lighting and Cade stares at it and goes cool. in a dazed voice. Mike is fascinated and horrified. He asks how it happened and Tess says an entity found my lack of emotion interesting, and I think I they wanted me to panic, and I can control it.

• Where were you? Allison asks, like a mother with a kid who stayed out too late instead of a mother with a daughter that disappeared for years, and Tess says another world and she's never lied before. Allison says what the fuck and Tess says there was no sudoku. Allison laughs then cries then laughs again.

• Can you stay? Mike asks, somehow the begging optimist of this situation, because Allison spent all her hope at the start and Cole is a therapist. His daughter is so much bigger now, and her hands are electric, and she's covered in scars, and she looks at him over the hood of the car and says I have a car, over there, and I will buy a new one for you.

• The end of the week comes, and Tess has notes written, left in their coat pockets. Cade and Allison and Mike all have pictures of her. She was there for a week, and she worked on the car.

• They put their most treasured belongings of her in the car and smile at it every time they leave the house.

#writeblr #atlas-works #original writing #writers on tumblr #character study #original characters #stream of conscious writing

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choccos-aaart · 3 years

Text

Antag interview!

>>BASE<<

Feat. the five major antagonists of the story of April and friends: Mr Skatra, Dr Sarlife Aufel, Wyra, Eyn, and Farqua

*NOTE: Definitely got spoilers for the story I’m writing, if you’re interested :P*

**NOTE: I better’ve not written anything wrong here...**

Greetings, and welcome to the "Villians Interview Meme". Whether you like it or not, you've been brought here to answer some questions about yourself. This is a recording, pausing and starting controlled by your author, so you cannot attack me. If you begin to fight with one another, you WILL be sedated/strait-jacketed. Alright now, let's start.

Would you show the viewers a shred of kindness by allowing us to know your name(s)?

Skatra: Oh…? I’m first? Alright, then… Hello, my name is Abarran. ...Known by most as Mr Skatra.

Doc: Evening! I’m Sarlife. Others call me Doc. And, I am not sharing my surname. Who’s next?

Wyra: It’s me. Hi, hello, my name’s Wyra. I’m Sarlife’s action partner. I keep a look out for her, too.

Eyn: I’m Eyn, and I’m Abarran’s kid.

Farqua: Suppose they left the best for last, huh! Hi! The name’s Farqua Pells!

Are you male or female?

Skatra: I’m male.

Doc: I don’t conform. Next,

Wyra: I am female!

Eyn: Usually people get me all wrong, but I’m a girl. Don’t blame ‘em though…

Farqua: And I’m a man, haha!

How old are you in human years?

Skatra: Forty-nine. Almost fifty... *sigh*

Doc: I’ve existed for 77 years, but my AI depicts me as, I dunno, somewhere in my 30s? 40s? Either way, I’m a working adult.

Farqua: So ya let us know your age but y’ain’t givin’ off your last name? For real?

Doc: It’s embarrassing. Wyra, it’s your turn.

Wyra: My AI depicts me as about the same as Doc! But I could be younger. I was built in year X701 which was about 65 years ago.

Eyn: I’m 16. Well, at least I’m programmed to be 16. I was actually built six years ago. What about you, Farqua? Gonna bet you’re like programmed to be 10, haha.

Farqua: Shut up. Uhh, I’m in my 30s... In my programmin’, of course. Almost reachin’ my 50 years milestone in real time, though!

What exactly are you?

Skatra: Excuse me… what? If you’re asking whether I’m human or not, I’m human.

Doc; Yeah, a pathetic one.

Skatra: Would you shut up?! …By the way, the rest of them are androids.

Doc: You really had to answer for us, didn’t you?

Skatra: It saves time.

Do you have any powers?

Skatra: No… Doctor?

Doc: Well, a lot of medical tools can be transformed out of my arm. And I’ve built myself a little machine that can automatically mix different medicines and whatnot.

Wyra: Well, I’ve learned to use my power source abilities for things that aren’t just powering things. Something I can do is produce power from both my star-panels and my natural gas source, which I think is cool.

Eyn: Alright. Uh… My arm’s literally a toolbox. No, literally, it can like, shoot a bunch of tools out of it. Well, those tools really are just these cool things that unfold from these tiny boxes. Weird science stuff I don’t wanna explain. Also, my arm used to be for weapons n’ stuff. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I was originally built to commit some revenge robbery or something, so I’m packed with a whole bunch of stealth n’ robbery stuff like, y’know. Too lazy to list it all down, though…

Farqua: Damnit Eyn, now you’re makin’ me feel pathetic!

Eyn: Well, boo-hoo.

Farqua: So, uhh… ‘s just my arm can transform into just a whole buncha garden n’ landscapin’ tools. That’s it, really.

Skatra: If it makes you happy, that’s every slasher film writer’s dream.

Farqua: Well, ain’t that nice!

Who is your archrival, and what do you hate about them? Do they have powers?

Skatra: It’s you, Doctor, Wyra, and all your affiliates!

Wyra: Yeah, whatever.

Doc: Ah yes, I greatly apologise for ruining your life to KEEP THE PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT SAFE!

Farqua: Well Doc, y’ain’t gonna deny that almost everyone hates your way of doin’ it, are ya? And April fights for ‘em, too.

Doc: YOU DON’T NEED TO BE INVOLVED, FARQUA!

Farqua: Shiieeeet… Calm ya farm. ...Wait, that doesn’t work in my accent.

Skatra: And also, that blasted April! I hate that child! She has and is still playing a big part of tearing my life to pieces, as if it wasn’t unbearable enough!

Farqua: Goddamn! Now everyone’s bein’ real overdramatic!

Eyn: So, uh, April’s pretty much my rival, too. And we always keep running into each other. It’s almost like some stupid rival logic you see in comics and TV and stuff.

Farqua: Ha! Imagine havin’ that happen to ya? Haha!

Eyn: … And who’s your rival, Farqua? Aren’t you just the henchman-turned-hostage?

Farqua: Shut up.

Eyn: Thought so.

Farqua: But as hostage I kept bickerin’ with Matro. Does that count?

Eyn: That’s fair. …Wait. I forgot to mention, April doesn’t really have powers. When we thought we were gonna be friends when we met the first time, I sorta turned her old stick into a weapon. Yeah. Things really backfired on me.

Do you rule over any sort of land, country, county?

Skatra: I could never rule something like that…

Doc: Oh no; I’ve got no knowledge or interest in being a ruler. I’m just a doctor.

Wyra: I can’t either, since I once accidentally caused a power outage in my old city!

Doc: And though the answer’s pretty obvious already, what about you, Eyn? Do you rule a population of some sort?

Eyn: Nah. It doesn’t even seem cool.

Farqua: Me neither. Huh! Weird that none of us are that typa antagonist?

Skatra: Now that you say it… I agree.

Why are you considered "the bad guy"?

Skatra: Well… I’ll admit, my goal is to take probably the most important thing that the building’s got, and yes, many robots were taken advantage of in the process.

Doc: And people were hurt. And you’ve committed murder before – oho, blood’s on your hands.

Skatra: DOCTOR! I thought our therapy session was meant to be confidential!

Doc: Oops, my bad.

Skatra: And it looks like we’ve got a reason why Doctor’s a part of this interview. Any more you want to say about yourself?

Doc: Ah… Uh… I forced a lot of innocents into getting involved and even fight in this mess of a situation. And yes, without their consent. Or their families’ consent. And by doing that, their lives were all at stake. Yeah, I regret it. Fly me to skuelk.

Wyra: I’m Doc’s action partner and out of the two of us, I think I’ve actively hurt April the most. And April’s still a little kid! That’s definitely given me a bad look!

Eyn: Eh, I just help Dad with stuff. And it really looks like I don’t care much about hurting people. That’s it, really. And I guess I also run into April the most, and a lot of the story’s from her perspective, so I guess I’m really put under a bad light.

Farqua: Same story! I’m one of Skatra’s guys! Except I’M THE ONLY ONE THAT GOT CAPTURED BY APRIL N’ FRIENDS AND IT’S SO FUCKIN’ EMBARRASSIN’.

Do you consider yourself purely evil?

Skatra: No! Who would?!

Wyra: Not me! I’ve just been called sadistic!

Doc: Let’s be completely real. Nobody really considers themselves evil. All of us just want to do what we feel like is right.

Eyn: Yeah, I don’t think I’m doing anything evil. I guess it’s sometimes I’m not knowing the difference between not giving a shit what everyone thinks about me versus doing what everyone agrees is morally wrong.

Farqua: Whoa! Ya got a lot of wisdom for a kid!

Skatra: And where do you think she got that from, hm?

Farqua: Stop lyin’ to yourself, she ain’t your biological daughter.

Skatra: Shut up.

What do you think of the others in the quiz room?

Skatra: Well first off, Eyn’s my daughter, the only family member I’m happy talking to, and I love her a lot. Doctor’s a bit… I don’t know. From my experience, they’ve been a very caring and genuine person at first. Wyra’s a bit of an oddball. I still think she’s a bit scary to approach. Those two are definitely people you wouldn’t want as an enemy, but then again, here I am. And that leaves Farqua, who’s probably just as competent as he is annoying. What about you, Doctor?

Farqua: WHA-

Doc: Ehrm, thanks for acknowledging that about me. Anyways, as much as I hate what you’re doing, Abarran, and mind me, I’m being as honest as I can, you’re just someone who needs help. It honestly hurts to watch you and what you’re doing. Wyra is a close friend of mine! We’re completely different, but it’s as if she completely understands me. And Farqua, you’re… You’re alright, I guess. Also, I’ve been hoping for you to just stop trying to be my “rival” ever since you read that aphorism, “an apple a day keeps the doctor away.” And Eyn, I can tell you’re hiding behind a façade; just reveal that you dress and act the way you do because you’re a fan of the Axel Duiti series. To me, you’re as easy to read as a children’s book.

Eyn: Hey! I mean… Never mind. Uh… My dad’s like the only guy that’s got my back. He’s cool. Dr Sarlife’s like, I dunno, a bit scary to talk to. Also, what’s up with the bunny ears?

Doc: That’s none of your… Alright, to tell you the truth, I worked at a children’s hospital. Let’s not get off topic, now. What are your thoughts on Wyra and Farqua?

Eyn: Oh. Uh… Wyra’s so hyper, it’s exhausting. But, I think we can get along? I dunno… I hope we do. And Farqua’s pretty cool. We get along pretty well. But cut off the “howdy” unless you’re gonna say that to everyone. That’s all.

Wyra: From what I know so far, I know I get along with Sarlife the best! Skatra’s, I dunno. All I know about him is through what Sarlife told me, and I think he’s a bit of a prick that could do with some fixing up. Maybe. I think Eyn’s cool! I think I’ve seen the Axel Duiti series on telly before, and I think that’s a good way to start talking! And now, Farqua. Um… Definitely a bit weird. But I find that endearing!

Farqua: That’s… That’s it? ‘Right, guess it’s my turn, then! First off, Doc, Wyra n’ Skatra, you’re all assholes for doin’ all the stuff you’re doin’ and for all the stuff ya said ‘bout me. And Eyn, you can still look like a badass and be open ‘bout all your apparently “less cool” self. Look at me? I look all cute n’ cuddly n’ sweet, but I’m pretty open ‘bout my reckless n’ aggressive nature n’ stuff, ya get?

Eyn: Wow… Didn’t expect a pep-talk but okay, I’ll take that.

Farqua: No prob, kiddo!

On a rate of one to ten, how powerful do you think the villain next to you is?

Skatra: Oh God, I hate rating like this. Uh… Doctor’s probably a 7.

Doc: …That’s fair; I’ll take it. I was going to say 7 for you. Wyra’s close to an 8.

Wyra: No offence Sarlife, but I reckon you’re a 6, for me.

Doc: None taken.

Wyra: Eyn’s a 9 for me. I’ve seen her with April and it’s not pretty.

Eyn: Wyra’s probably a, I dunno, 7…? Farqua’s 1.

Farqua: WHAT?!

Eyn: But with your limbs, you’re, I dunno, 8. You’re pretty strong and got a bunch of tools and stuff.

Farqua: Well, Eyn, I’m givin’ you an 8! Remember, this’s all ‘bout perspective.

Now, how powerful do you consider yourself to be?

Skatra: 4… 5…? I can’t get over it.

Doc: 6 or a 7. I don’t think I can give myself anything else after that last question.

Wyra: Tough. Probably 7? Or 8.

Eyn: 8.

Farqua: God, some of y’all don’t think that high of yourselves, huh! I’m givin’ myself a 9!

Do you have an evil laugh?

Skatra: No, that’s stupid.

Doc: Can we all agree on this and move on?

Eyn: Yeah.

Wyra: Done and done!

Farqua: You guys are borin’ as hell y’know. I sorta do have one actually! But I guess tha’s ‘cause Matro keeps tellin’ me I’m just mean-spirited. And sadistic too, but it ain’t like that!

Do ya fear death?

Skatra: Er… I’ll pass on this one…

Doc: Alright. No, I don’t, honestly.

Wyra: I agree! I don’t really care. I’ve kind of experienced it, before.

Eyn: Well, I do. I’ve still got things I wanna get outta the way and I don’t wanna miss ‘em.

Farqua: Do I fear death? Well, I guess I do! I’ve seen it countless times ‘cause I’ve been to every burial held at the buildin’ and I see everybody all heartbroken n’ stuff. Makes me worry, y’know, ‘bout all the people who care ‘bout me n’ all.

Docc: Well, to be fair, we do all have the choice to live for as long as we want, as long as we’re not seriously damaged to the point beyond repair. Well, except for Abarran, here. He’s human and we’re all bound to outlive him.

Skatra: That’s not very nice.

What's your goal, exactly? Or are you just evil for the heck of it?

Skatra: It’s quite basic, really. So, to put it simply, nearly fifty years of hard work’s gone down the drain. And to make up for all of it, I felt the need to do something big. So, my goal is to take the proclo machine and reveal it to the world as something of mine. Yes, I know I’ll be living a lie, but I just want to make an impact of some sort that’ll change the world, whether it be for the better or for the worse, and once the whole world hates me, I’ll just end it all there.

Doc: Alright… Well, I just want to keep this building, you know, ALIVE. I care about everyone and everything that has to do with this building, and I’ll do anything if it means this building lives on. And that’s it! I mean it literally!

Wyra: Everything I know about this situation is through Sarlife, really. She told me everything, and when I say “anything,” I mean it. I care about this building, a lot, too! ...Eyn? What about you? Let me guess: you just want to make your dad proud of you, right?

Eyn: That’s one of them. But also, there was this one guy that commissioned me, he gave me a mission, and I failed it. Big time. Then I got left on the shelf for years, he commissioned another robot n’ stuff, and once that was done, I was sold somewhere to do some more stuff that I didn’t do so well at either, and then I was sold again. I didn’t really feel like I had anything good to do in this world, so that sucked. And then Dad picked me up from the markets and now I’m making sure I don’t fail at anything, anymore.

Farqua: … This is awkward… I ain’t got much of a motive… I just, I dunno, work for the guy- I mean Skatra…

Doc: THAT’S BECAUSE HE MANAGED TO TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR GOAL SYSTEM, YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!!

Farqua: Goddamn! Ya gotta calm down! And I thought I was aggressive!

Do you have henchmen/a henchman?

Skatra: A lot of robots, yes, I do.

Doc: ROBOTS WHO WERE MY FRIENDS THAT YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF, THAT’S WHO!

Wyra: They were my friends, too, you know!

Skatra: You know, you’ll both eventually end up working for me, sooner or later.

Doc: I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.

Wyra: We’ve gathered a lot of the non-robotic inhabitants of the building, anyway, to help get rid of you! And Eyn, too!

Skatra: Ooh, I’m soo scared.

Eyn: … Okay so, I work with my dad, so all those robots- I mean Dr Sarlife and Wyra’s friends are sorta my henchmen, too. Wow, that makes me sound really villainous, haha…

Farqua: So! It’s my turn, now, ain’t it? WELL, JOKES ON Y’ALL, I AM A HENCHMAN!

What do you drive?

Skatra: My little car, with a trailer attached. How do you think I got to the building?

Doc: I drive a scooter. It’s very easy to get around which is great!

Wyra: I’m not very good at driving. But, I have had a go on the hover bikes which are fun!

Eyn: I sorta know how to drive Dad’s car, but I know the anatomy n’ whatnot better than I can drive.

Farqua: Goddamnit, EYN can drive, too?! Well…! Matro said he’d teach me to drive the train later on.

Doc: What?

Wyra: You and Matro are all buddy-buddy, now?

Farqua: Sorta!

Doc: Well…. That’s surprising…

Wyra: Since when?

Farqua: Huh. You’re getting’ a little jealous now I’m spedin’ a lot of my time with your ol’ pal, ain’t ya?

What do you do when you aren't trying to do whatever you're trying to achieve?

Skatra: What do I do… Well, aside from moping in my apartment all day, I like to build machines and do some arthropod photography.

Doc: For me, you’d find me obviously doing my work. During my breaks, I take walks all around the building, and occasionally, I’d draw over my papers. I’m not a very skilled artist, though…

Wyra: I like to watch some telly! And just travel around the building while I’m not doing my work, of course!

Eyn: So, as Dr Sarlife said, you probably already know I’m a huge fan of the Axel Duiti series, so I re-watch the show, re-read the comics, and all that stuff. I also like playing bass guitar and helping Dad with building and stuff. That’s it, really.

Farqua: First off, I’m a gardener and a landscaper, so catch me up on the rooftop gardens doin’ my thing. When I ain’t doin’ all that, you’ll find me in the library reading some books about, I dunno, random stuff.

Were you ever a double-crosser (pretended to be on the opposite team, then stabbed them in the back)?

Skatra: Well, I—

Doc: THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID TO ME!

Skatra: Doctor, there is no need to yell! Good God!

Doc: You can’t deny that it’s true, though. For me, I would never do that.

Wyra: Never done it! If anything, I like being honest.

Eyn: Well, I’ve tried doing that. It didn’t go very well… Farqua, your turn.

Farqua: Oh yeah. Mine’s damn interestin’, alright. ‘Cause if April and friends DIDN’T get to me first, I woulda done exactly that!

Skatra: I’m pretty sure I heard them say they thought you were up to something beforehand, so…

Farqua: Wh… How do you even hear this stuff?

Skatra: Your point of view was connected to my computers, why?

Farqua: …OKAY. I FORGOT. SORRY.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how often do you lie? *gives them truth serum*

Skatra: Oh God… 8

Doc: 3. Lying isn’t that big a thing for both robots and doctors, and then there’s me.

Wyra: 4. Like I said, I like to be truthful. Just saying.

Eyn: 5. I’m pretty honest.

Farqua: 6-ish.

Skatra: … You’re joking! I lie the most out of all of us?

Farqua: Well, y’gotta face it. You’re the only human here.

What color is your: hair?

Skatra: Dark green. ...For some reason.

Doc: It’s some sort of brown.

Wyra: A bit reddish-brown. Think of Sarlife’s favourite pants.

Doc: ...

Eyn: I wish I had hair…

Farqua: Ain’t that also why you wear a hat?

Eyn: I guess…

Farqua: Anyways, I ain’t got no hair too, ‘cause my design’s just like that, y’know! Gotta admit, I still pull off a cute look, huh!

Eyes?

Skatra: Dark, dark brown.

Doc: My irises are generally jet black and my sclerae are white. When I’m under the influence of an energy chip, my sclerae turn a blueish colour.

Farqua: “SCELRAE, SCELRAE,” look, ya don’t gotta go all textbook talk mode on us.

Doc: ...You could’ve at least been a little bit nicer...

Eyn: Uh… My eyes are black. Dad says I’m not allowed to have effect chips yet, so my whites are always white.

Farqua: For most of the story, I’m not on anything so you’d see my eyes are just like Eyn’s. But a lot of the time, when I’m not working, you’d catch the white bits of my eyes turned bright yellow! Forgot which chip it was but I set up a whole stash months ago!

Wyra: Um… I’ve got no irises!

Skin?

Skatra: Some sort of darkish beige.

Doc: I don’t really have skin, but I’m painted grey.

Wyra: Also painted grey.

Eyn: My paints are a bit weird. A lot of my body’s green, some areas are painted cream, my forearms and below the knees are painted brown, and my face is grey. Sorry if it’s a lot.

Farqua: I’m painted mostly red with some super light yellow in some places. I’ve got some small bits that’re this dark purply brown, too. And my upper arms, whatcha call it, are—

Doc: Your brac-

Farqua: WOULD YA— Doc, don’t do that. …Anyways, my whatchamacallits ain’t really painted at all.

Whats your uniform/favorite outfit?

Skatra: Since it’s winter, I’ve been wearing my favourite turtleneck at lot, recently. I like to pair it with my long coat.

Doc: My only outfit is my doctors’ uniform. It’d be kind of strange to see me wear anything else.

Wyra: I’ve got my work uniform. That’s it, really.

Eyn: Right now, I’m wearing an outfit based off Axel Duiti. He’s an outlaw in the old Earthian west.

Farqua: I AIN’T WEARIN’ NO CLOTHES, HAHA! And that’s ‘cause my designers made sure I was too good for ‘em.

Have you ever gone mad?

Skatra: Mad…? As in angry or…

Doc: I think they mean gone totally mental. As in you’ve lost your mind.

Skatra: Oh. Yes, I did. When, I’m not going to mention any names here, an ex-friend of mine put my years-worth of effort down the drain back in… X761, I think? What about you, Doctor?

Doc: Ah, I remember that one time… That one time Eyn nearly got me to fall under your control... And then, after that, you took all the little nurses and doctors that worked with me as prisoners... Hm, and it was a threat, too! All so I wouldn’t publicise your dastardly plan!

Skatra: Good God, you didn’t need to go into that much detail!

Doc: Anywho, what about you, Wyra? Anything similar?

Wyra: I don’t recall, really. Eyn?

Eyn: Nope.

Doc: Really? Even after everything that’s happened to you?

Eyn: Nope. And I hope it doesn’t happen to me. That’d be embarrassing.

Farqua: I ain’t had that happen to me, either! Guess that’s just a side effect of being old, huh!

Wyra: Haha!

Skatra: Excuse me?!

Doc: Farqua, you, Wyra and I were ALL programmed to behave the same age– WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN SAY THAT TO ME?!

Farqua: Well, just like I said to Matro, “Stress. It ages ya.”

Doc: It doesn’t. …Alright, it does! But that doesn’t mean you can say what you just said!

Wyra: Wait... I’m stressed...?

If so, did you enjoy it?

Skatra: No! Of course, not!

Doc: If anyone had half a brain, even they’d know not to enjoy something like that!

Skatra: You don’t even have an organic brain and you, too, know not to enjoy something like that.

Doc: … Your daughter is right here.

Skatra: OH MY GOD, I’m so sorry!

Eyn: It’s okay, Dad.

Have any family?

Skatra: I do, back at the city. I haven’t spoken with them in almost thirty years. Eyn is the only closest family I’ve got.

Eyn: Yeah, I’ve just got him, too.

Doc: Uh, me? I can’t say. I guess if you count my model’s predecessors and successors. It makes sense.

Farqua: Same story as Doc, I guess.

Wyra: Same’s too!

Have you ever been in love? If you have, do they love you back?

Skatra: A few times I thought I did, actually. Once in high school, twice in university, and after, I realised love wasn’t anything of my interest. I’m not complaining, though.

Wyra: Definitely! I been in love before!

Skatra: Robots can… Do that...?

Wyra: Um, yeah?

Doc: I haven’t, really. Also, this might be related, but I’ve done so a few times ever since I created the lust chip, and experimented with myself.

Eyn: Lust chip…? The heck?

Farqua: Woo-hoo, Doc, who were they?

Doc: In my first trial, it was my human anatomy model, and eventually my human skeleton model.

Farqua: … What – ya didn’t go head-over-heels with anyone alive?

Doc: Of course not! Why would I experiment with those chips around people?!

Farqua: Oh. Well, I ain’t fallen in love yet. Maybe ‘cause I’ve yet to get the hots for anyone ‘round here. Even with the lust chip! Surprisin, huh! …Y’know, since I gotta admit, I do like to look a lil cuter, don’t I?

Eyn: Uh… Well, there’s this uvra girl...

Farqua: …

Doc: …

Wyra: ...

Skatra: Eyn, you’ve fallen in love?!

Can you cook?

Skatra: Well, yes! I have to eat to survive. It’s a human thing.

Doc: I’ve tried teaching myself to. It’s not that difficult, actually.

Wyra: I can, a bit! I’m not very skilled though, and people have just told me to just stick to working the gas, rather than actually working with the gas.

Eyn: Dad’s been teaching me some. He says I’m a natural, haha.

Farqua: Well, I sorta do. I ain’t that great at it, though. Shucks, I gotta up my cookin’ game!

Do you despise the Earth?

Skatra: Not really. Earth is history after all, so why should I care so much?

Farqua: Some people hate stuff from the past, y’know,

Skatra: That’s fair.

Doc: Well, despite everything, I’m pretty indifferent.

Wyra: Earth’s pretty cool if you ask me. Shame I can’t actually see it for myself, though.

Eyn: I don’t know much about Earth. But Axel lives in that place, so that’s cool.

Farqua: I’m all about Earth! There ain’t nothin else I’ve been readin’ about lately!

What's your pet peeve?

Skatra: When anyone leaves anything personal unlocked. Imagine seeing a bag or a house’s door left open. How do people even do that? I remember back in high school nobody would lock their lockers unless they actually had to. It bothered me so much to the point where I locked one of my classmates’. That was also the time I made my first enemy. Well, not really; the person barely knew me! But they swore they’d kill me.

Doc: The fact that engineers aren’t being as creative with android antennae anymore! Are they not accepting creatives into the industry anymore or something? ...No offence, Farqua.

Farqua: Yeah, fine. Whatever.

Wyra: I think my pet peeve is when people are super nitpicky and pick out really small and meaningless details, as if they’re gonna do something big. Like, what’s the point?

Eyn: When people talk over TV shows and movies and stuff. Why would you even do that?

Farqua: Hm… I think I hate when people run over plants. Y’know, like the ones that ain’t grass n’ all that. They’re alive, too, y’know! And they especially don’t get stepped on like that!

What kind of music to you like?

Skatra: I’ve enjoyed all forms of jazz. I think big band’s my favourite.

Doc: This might be surprising, but I actually prefer genres like breakbeat. Or, if I want to relax, I’ll listen to space ambiance.

Wyra: Happy hardcore, hardstyle, handsup - anything that’s energising, really!

Eyn: Rock n’ roll and blues are my favourites. Maybe some ska-punk, too. I feel like a total badass when listening to them.

Farqua: I love some good punk rock, or maybe even add somethin’ like some folkier flavour to songs like those!

What's your favorite food?

Skatra: Tiramisu. I don’t have it often, but I guess that’s why it’s my favourite.

Doc: ...I’m a robot. But I’ve always wanted to try dark chocolate.

Wyra: Me too! I don’t know what they taste like, but maybe cheese and nachos will do it for me!

Eyn: Dad’s always told me about different foods, but I think he’s described ramen noodles the best.

Farqua: I been told that honey-lemon chicken tastes great! I really wanna taste that!

Are you bored, want to kill me, satisfied with this quiz, etc.?

Skatra: I’ve been enjoying it a bit, actually.

Doc: Me too. I was afraid I’d get bored. ...Sorry.

Wyra: I enjoyed it! It was a lot of questions to get through though, but I’m still here!

Eyn: Eh, it was cool, I guess…

Farqua: I ain’t gonna kill ya, I promise! ...I mean, it was good!

Who's your favorite villain other than yourself?

Skatra: I don’t know. Why would I have a favourite villain? Or if you’re talking about the people in this group, I guess, it’s Eyn. She’s my daughter, after all.

Doc: Wyra’s one of my closest friends. Of course, I’d pick her.

Wyra: Right back at you, Sarlife!

Eyn: I guess, I’ve just got my dad. Or, if you meant it that way, I really like one named Taft Grater. He’s one of the villains of the Axel Duiti series. He’s really well written.

Farqua: Huh! This is a tough one! I dunno, maybe Wyra.

Do you think you're gonna die in your story?

Skatra: I don’t know. Like everyone else, I hope not, but I’ll just take what’s thrown at me.

Doc: Let’s hope I don’t!

Wyra: I don’t think I’ll die!

Eyn: I hope not, too.

Farqua: WELL, I BETTER NOT!!!

Well, I have to go, and I'm sure you have a lot of evil scheming to do. Peace out! (Or should I say "destruction out!" in your cases?) For your creators, go tag someone! Please, it won't take long!

Me lol: (Sorry! :’D)

Anything to add now that I'm done rambling?

Me lol: Not really, actually! but it was fun :D

Look! Please do it if you have villains, and credit me!

Please spread the word!

(I don't have much time, I have a timed session, as I'm using some random wifi server, so I'll add more later!)

#Chocco's OCs #Mr Skatra #Dr Aufel #Wyra Kappel #Eyn Duiti #Farqua Pells #Project: Proclo #Chocco does memes #Chocco's writing #Chocco's scripts #Chocco's info dumps #Dr Sarlife Aufel #Doc / Sarlife #Eyn Duiti Skatra

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howtobeapersonwithfibro · 4 years

Text

Disability Sci-Fi: Alternate Universe Theo

Finally continuing my Disabled Sci-Fi series. Here’s one about Theo, an amputee who gets sent into an alternate reality by a meddlesome young witch. Enjoy! I’d love to hear what you think.

***

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is that the window isn’t in the right spot in his room.

The second thing he notices, as he swings himself to the edge of the bed and looks for his forearm crutches, is that he has two legs.

And then he freezes. For a solid three minutes.

When Theo went to bed, it was in a small bedroom in a shoebox apartment he shared with his boyfriend in Pittsburgh. The walls were beige, not this clean white. Their bed was nestled beside the room’s one window, the only place it could logically go.

And he had one leg, courtesy of an accident that occurred a few years before.

This morning, everything felt wrong. He stood up, unaided--a feeling that was odd but that he vaguely remembered--and approached the window that was in the wrong place. He recognized the view from the one time he’d been there on a college tour.

Harvard. He was in a dorm at Harvard. Once upon his time, this was his dream school.

Then the accident happened, his mental health went to shit, and he decided to stay closer to home where his family could support him better. Ultimately, it had worked out. He’d taken a year off after high school, went to University of Pittsburgh, met Xavier, came out to his parents.

So what the hell was this? Some kind of lucid dream?

He grabbed his phone from the side table and opened up Contacts, looking for Xavier’s name.

It wasn’t there.

Theo dialed the number he’d memorized months ago, and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his boyfriend’s voice on the other end of the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Something… weird is going on. Where are you right now?” Theo paced as he talked, an old nervous habit that kept reminding him of his two feet on the floor.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

He shook his head. Xavier was always full of jokes, but now was not the time. This weird alternate-life dorm room was freaking him out. “Don’t be a smartass. It’s Theo.”

“Sorry, dude, I don’t know a Theo. You must have the wrong number.” Click. Call ended.

Theo stared at his phone. What the hell was going on? It’s like he’d woken up in a different version of his life, one that didn’t belong to him.

He didn’t know what else to do. He dialed Mom. She should be the same no matter what, right?

“Hi honey, what’s up?”

“Mom,” he breathed a sigh of relief. At least she was right. “The weirdest thing has happened. I woke up at Harvard, and my leg--”

“Oh, Theo. Slow down. This must be one of your panic attacks. Do you have your medication?”

Panic attacks were something he’d struggled with since the accident in his world, too. That happened when you were suddenly hit by a car, and the car drove away as you bled onto the blacktop.

“But mom, the car accident--”

“Just breathe, Theo. It’s over now, remember? The doctor said it was amazing you only needed stitches.”

His mom was still talking, but he set the phone on the bed. He drew up his shorts to look at the spot above his knee where his leg was supposed to be amputated.

There was just a scar, fairly faded, a few inches long.

He picked the phone back up, and found his mother still rambling. “Honey, why don’t you take a clonazepam and take the day off from classes? You’ll feel much better after some rest.”

Clearly, she was not going to be much help in the “what the hell is going on” department. So he just said, “Okay, I’ll do that,” tolerated a few more reassuring comments, and then finally hung up.

Left without any other ideas, Theo got dressed and left his room to go wander around campus. He didn’t know what classes he was supposedly attending or who his friends here supposedly were, but it didn’t matter. He was looking for something, anything to tell him why he was suddenly here, in this life.

Could that other life have just been a really detailed dream--and the accident caused just a mild, now-healed injury? But why couldn’t he remember anything about this place? Why didn’t it feel like his? He pinched his arm experimentally, but no magical awakening happened.

He found himself missing the muffled clacking sound of crutches that usually accompanied him as he walked. Who was he if he wasn’t Theo, the amputee? The anxious U of P student dreaming of vet school? Xavier’s boyfriend?

This was all wrong.

He was wandering uneasily down one of the paths when someone caught his eye. A girl with purple hair and piercings who had a mischievous, observant air about her. Not exactly Harvard’s type.

And he remembered her. Not her name, but her face.

He’d met her yesterday. The real yesterday, in his world, which he was now certain existed.

He all but ran up to the picnic table where she lounged carelessly. He found himself wordless, but she simply quirked an eyebrow at him and said, “What’s up, champ?”

“Sorry, I’m, uh, having a bit of a weird day. But… do we know each other?”

She smirked knowingly, but said, “I don’t actually know a lot of Harvard boys.”

“Yeah, see, the thing is, I’m not…” He ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out how to sound even relatively normal. In the end, he decided not to bother trying. “This is going to sound crazy. I think I met you yesterday, but… somewhere else. I was in Pittsburgh, and I lived there, and my life was different…”

She stared at him a while, letting him think for a few minutes that he truly was crazy. Still somewhat amused, she finally admitted, “I remember you. I... may have come here to visit you today. To… check on my handiwork.”

“Your what?”

She hesitated a moment, then sighed. “Okay. See, like, I’m part of this... witches’ coven. Not, like, brooms and cauldrons and shit, but like, real spells and magic. And I’ve been wanting to practice this one spell I found, but my sisters told me not to, and you can’t just go around telling people you’re a witch and asking if they want a spell… so I just sort of picked someone. And it was you.”

So much for being sure of things again. Theo blinked. Several times. Took a few breaths. Found some words. “So,” he ventured, “Let’s just pretend for a second that magic is real and I’m not having a fever dream right now.”

“Sure.” She leaned back against the wooden table, as if this was an average day for her.

“You… made this happen? Put me in this alternate life? But why?”

“Yes. And, honestly... I had to find someone the spell would work on. It involved finding a pivot point in someone’s life--a point that could have gone one way or the other, like, deciding whether or not to take a job, have a kid, or spontaneous accidents--and making it flip the other way. The overall world stays the same, but the ripple effect of the pivot-point moment is applied and the person’s world changes.”

He just stared at her.

“We have the ability to sort of… read people. So I saw you, struggling to carry a bunch of shit down the street with your crutches, and I got your vibe. A bit of your history. Bad accident, took your leg, now it’s mighty inconvenient for you. So I wondered if I could just… flip the pivot point and see if it fixed you.” She shrugged.

“You didn’t fix anything, you crazy… witch,” he finished lamely, struggling for a more accurate word. “My whole life is wrong now. I’m at the wrong school, away from my family, my boyfriend doesn’t even know me…”

“But you’ve got your leg, yeah?” She stood up from the table, as if she was satisfied with this conversation and ready to move elsewhere. She had a new excitement flowing through her expression. “So it worked! I can’t believe I did it.”

“You. Are not. Hearing me. I didn’t ask you to do this. I didn’t ask for my leg back. I want my life back, the way it was.”

“Look, even if I could… it would take some time. Recharge my magic batteries or whatever. Find my focus for the spell. It’s not like I can just snap my fingers. Can’t you just stay here? I mean, shit, you’re at Harvard, and healed, for one.”

“Being able-bodied is not a replacement for a happy life that I already had.” He shook his head. “Why can’t people understand that not every disabled person is inherently miserable?”

It seems to sink in, because the purple-haired girl is starting to appear guilty. “I mean, you looked pretty miserable carrying those bags down the street. I just thought--”

“I know. You looked at me and thought, what a poor crippled soul, he must have a terrible life just because he’s struggling with grocery bags for a few minutes. Right?” Theo didn’t think of himself as intimidating, but his anger made him bigger, somehow, as he loomed over the girl. Theo thought of Xavier, of their crappy little apartment and long nights spent studying for pre-vet program exams. And he wanted it back. Needed it.

“I mean--” she started.

He cut her off. “I need you to undo this. Today.”

She was breathing quickly. She took a step back from him. “The best I can do is tonight. Six hours or so. We’ll meet back here.” She bit her lip nervously.

“You better not be messing with me.”

“No, I swear,” she said. “I’m really sorry. It was stupid of me to try the spell without your permission.” She paced a bit. “I’ll undo it. I just need a little time.”

***

Theo spent the rest of the day wandering around the campus, poking around a little out of curiosity to see what this Alternate-Theo’s life was like. He was sure about wanting things to go back, but he had time to fill, and when did anyone else get an opportunity to see what their life could have been like?

He managed to find the way back to his dorm, following a peer through the locked door and stairwell. He eventually found the door number he remembered, 410, and pushed open the door he’d left unlocked in his earlier frenzy.

The room was a single, so no roommate. Everything in here belonged to this Theo.

He poked through some papers and textbooks. It looked like he was pre-med, and making decent grades--that was his old dream, of becoming a doctor for people, not animals. But after the accident, he’d wanted to spend as little time in hospitals and doctors’ offices as possible, and found comfort in his pets. The solution seemed obvious, once his anxiety went down and he was clear-headed enough to see it.

He scrolled through his phone. A couple casual texts to friends about homework and such. No boyfriend or even super close friends, it seemed. There were some texts and calls to his parents--one text from his mom said Meet any nice girls lately? ;). So he hadn’t even come out to his parents yet? What about his so-called “friends” here? To Theo, it looked like this life was pretty lonely.

This whole snooping process took up several hours, and he spent the next few eating snacks he found in his room, pacing the Harvard grounds hoping the witch-girl would return sooner, and, briefly, taking a run. It wasn’t as fun as he’d imagined it would be on the rare occasions he did miss his leg.

Finally, as the day grew cooler and a little darker, the purple-haired girl approached him where he sat at the same picnic table he’d found her at earlier.

“I think I’m all set.” She sat down next to Theo with the same nonchalance she had earlier. “I just need a minute to get relaxed and settled here. Are you sure you still want to undo this?”

“Yes,” he replied, without hesitation.

“Okay.” She closed her eyes, breathing evenly. She held a few objects in her hands he couldn’t see.

“Am I going to rememb--?”

“Shh. Trying to focus here. And to answer your question, I don’t know. Now be quiet.”

***

Theo woke up in a tiny beige bedroom in a shoebox apartment in Pittsburgh. Beside him, the sheets were ruffled; typical for Xavier to get up early for rowing practice. Leaning against the wall by the bed were a pair of forearm crutches.

A sticky note in Xavier’s messy scrawl was on the side table next to the bed. See you for lunch? I’ll text you. Love you. -X

Theo held onto the note and let himself fall back into the pillow with ease. He did remember the crazy alternate-life day he had, but couldn’t entirely be sure whether it was a dream or not.

But he could relax and be happy now. He was back where he belonged.

#my writing #writing #short story #disability #disability fiction #disability short story #disabled characters #disability story

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wroughtbetwixtfanfic · 5 years

Text

A Memory Of The Smell of Smoke, Ch 4.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Everyone liked to pretend that Campbell had been born bad. That their fear and hatred were logical, rational, justified, because Campbell was a monster incapable of making the choice between good and evil. Because he couldn’t feel the way they did. Well, fuck that. He was gonna prove them wrong. At least, that had been the plan.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Emotional Baggage, Mental Health Issues, Child Abuse, Substance Abuse, Animal Death, Complicated Relationships, Pre-Slash, Denial of Feelings, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Implied Rape, Campbell has mild ASPD and is self aware enough to try and be better, the non-con is NOT Campbell, didn’t add an official warning because it is the aftermath only, yes it is the party becca mentioned and there will be a warning in the notes of that chapter, Campbell/Harry, Campbell/Elle.

Word Count: 4673 (chapter 4/5).

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 5 || AO3

Disclaimer: This chapter involves what happened to Becca, and discusses the aftermath of sexual assault. (The perpetrator is unknown.) It is implied, not shown, but still may be upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.

Senior year didn't seem to be too wild, at first.

Knowing made things better, but they also made things worse in some ways. Campbell did agree with Cassandra that they didn't have to be evil, irredeemable people. Unfortunately, there were few resources out there that had any sort of positive, hopeful outlook. Campbell knew that, be he still tried to find some anyways. The ones he did manage to find were often anonymous men talking about how awesome they were and laughing about torturing animals, abusing their family, and sharing prison stories. Some forums were a bit less intense, but Campbell never bothered engaging. He was like a jalapeno among a bunch of ghost peppers. They weren't going to improve his situation any.

"It's like any other condition," Cassandra said while Campbell helped her bake cookies for some sort of asinine fundraiser. "There's a spectrum of severity. Some people are on the end where it's not really noticeable."

Campbell stirred a giant bowl of batter, taking out his frustration on the chocolate chip mix. "I know people can't help being what they are, exactly, but I don't know where I fall on that spectrum and it's kind of..."

"Scary?"

"Maybe. They say people like us can't get scared. Do you believe that?"

Cassandra popped a batch in the oven and flopped onto the kitchen stool. She tilted her head, thinking. "Mm. I don't know. I suppose that for me, it's more that I get concerned, but I think that's what it's supposed to be. Fear. But it's fainter, you know? It doesn't last long. Just enough to make me think."

"That's why you're so good at debate, I guess."

"Probably. What about you?"

"Dunno. I guess social anxiety is common in guys with it. I don't know if that's the same as fear, though. I just hate getting in front of a group of people I know hate me, and try to pretend they don't, you know? I don't worry about much else."

"Handy."

"Sometimes."

Cassandra swung her feet. She leaned on the counter and rested her hand on her chin, peering at him. "What about love?"

"What about it?"

"Have you been in love?"

Campbell stopped stirring for a moment. "I don't know. It's kind of a weird thing. I guess I do feel attracted to people, sometimes."

"Like Harry?"

"How do you figure?"

"I have eyes, and I know you."

"Whatever." He started scooping balls of dough onto a cookie sheet. Cassandra made a gesture for him to continue. "Yeah. Harry, but he's got Kelly now. And there's this girl in school I kinda like. Elle. Never seems to really hang out with anyone, kinda has a snooty vibe, but she's pretty."

Cassandra nodded. "She is. But attraction isn't love, really."

"It's not. I don't know, I guess it's... I think I love Sam. I mean, you love Allie, right?"

"I do." She shrugged. "She's fun. Smart. I wouldn't give up my dream of going to Yale to go to her college or anything, but we take care of each other. I want her to be safe and happy. I try not to hurt her on purpose, even if I do by accident, sometimes. I think that's love, or something like it. I loved our cat. I love my parents."

"Then sure. I've felt love. Too bad the last time I tried to get close to someone, it all got fucked up. Doesn't bode so well for the future, does it?"

The timer dinged, and Cassandra pulled a tray of cookies out. The kitchen filled up with the scent of butter and chocolate. She set the tray down and popped another in. "I think... I think that a lot of people, in general, judge a group of people by the worst among them. And I think some symptoms are just scary, and people don't get enough help or don't care enough to mind themselves, and it all just snowballs."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's not like professionals have studied every single person on the planet. They're going off reported cases and prison records. Maybe the people you're reading about are just the worst of us. In any case, it doesn't mean you have to be like them."

"You're not."

"No. Not quite." Cassandra tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm lucky. I'm a privileged white girl, so they just assume I'm a frigid, entitled bitch. Or an angry feminist. If I'm careful, and I try to be good, that's all I'll ever be to them. Annoying and self righteous and stuck up."

"Doesn't mean I've got a chance."

"Of course you do. Evil is a choice, Campbell. So we have low empathy. People don't need empathy to understand other people, or to be compassionate towards them. We can still understand and choose to do what is right. At the end of the day, all it comes down to are what choices we make. We can decide the type of person we're going to be."

It was a nice thought, if nothing else.

He didn't really want to change everything about himself. He kind of liked some of it, and since things went tits up with Sam, Campbell had come to appreciate and embrace even some of the messier, darker parts, too. But it was true enough. He could choose to not burn his house down, he could choose not to steal, he could choose not to kick dogs or pick on people more vulnerable than himself. Now that he had some idea of what was going on and had Cassandra there to help him, maybe it was worth it to try and follow her example a little. He didn't care about trying to be someone he wasn't, and his peers weren't going to forget his history at all, so there was no point there. But keeping out of legal trouble, and keeping himself from turning into some kind of animal that beat up his loved ones? That was something he was keen on avoiding. If he knew what his risk factors were for the future, maybe he could just be his natural asshole self without leaving too much destruction in his wake.

In a world of small blessings, he had other people's drama to keep himself entertained, without having to cause any of his own. Harry and Cassandra ran for student body president, and it was a vicious campaign on both sides. Naturally, Cassandra won. Harry was charming enough, but he didn't have the cutthroat attitude needed to secure a victory. Harry still had a party after, though considering the turnout was crap despite the fact that his parents were out of town, it could hardly be called a party.

"Nobody wants to be here," Harry groaned into his pillow after the last of the meager guests had left. "I've lost it, Cam. I had it and I lost it."

Campbell chewed on a slice of cold cheese pizza. "Pretty sure you never had it, buddy. I think it was the alcohol and pot, there."

Harry let out a strangled whine. He tried to hit Campbell with the pillow, but Campbell caught it with his free hand and tugged it from Harry's grasp with ease. "Fuck." Harry sat up and rubbed his face. "What am I supposed to do? I'm a loser. Everyone hates me."

"I don't hate you. Kelly doesn't hate you."

"I'm still a loser."

"Don't be boring." Campbell sighed. "Look, you've got parents who love you, a gorgeous girlfriend, an expensive car, and you're not a leper or anything. You've got it pretty good. Why worry about popularity? It's all a bunch of bullshit, anyways."

"Because you've never felt what it's like to have tons of friends and see it all slip away because you're not drugging them up anymore. It's humiliating."

"Nah, you're right. I definitely don't know what it's like to lose people I thought loved me."

Harry winced at the sharpness in Campbell's tone. "Shit, man. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just... You've always seemed so above it all. I'm not like that."

"You used to be. What changed?"

"It's not worth talking about."

Campbell gently whacked Harry with the pillow. "Tell me. C'mon, I never ask otherwise, and you never share. Is it a girl problem?"

"My dad's dying."

The words tumbled out of Harry's mouth in a rush. Campbell wanted to say something, but Harry began to cry. Fuck. Reaching out, Campbell lightly rested his hand on Harry's knee. Was that an acceptable level of comfort? He didn't know, but apparently it was, because Harry leaned over and burrowed against Campbell's side.

"I just wanted to do something important, so he could be proud of me," Harry sobbed into Campbell's shoulder. "He's not gonna be around to see me get to college, and I can't even manage this one fucking little thing."

"Hey. A lot of colleges have early decision programs. I heard Cassandra talking about it, with Yale. If you want, I can help you look into it."

Harry blinked up at him, and goddamn those doe eyes did it every time. "Really? You'd help me?"

"Sure. You want to go to Harvard, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, if I can pull it off."

"You can pull it off. Trust me."

Campbell managed to steer the conversation towards college, and what they planned to do after graduation. It was an easier subject for Campbell, and Harry seemed to welcome the distraction. Harvard did in fact have such a program, and he helped Harry gather together everything he needed. Maybe Harry couldn't be president of the school, but it would be more impressive to show his dad an admissions letter from one of the top three universities in the country.

"What are you gonna do?" Harry asked. "I know you hate this town."

"I don't know. I figured I'd run away to LA or something."

"Seriously?"

"I saved most of the money I got off of dealing. My parents never found it, so why not? Just buy a one way ticket and figure things out when I get there."

Harry gave him a rueful smile. "If anyone here could make it there, it'd be you."

But they both knew it was just a silly dream. Of course Harry got into Harvard; he'd gotten his letter late December, and Campbell knew he couldn't move across country from his best friend. Campbell applied to colleges in January, like most other students. He'd know his fate in six to eight weeks. In the meantime, he balanced his attention between Harry and Elle, the girl that had caught his attention before.

Elle Tomkins was one of those rare people who wasn't born and raised in West Ham, transplanted there in the 7th grade when her parents moved from New York. Too young to get that "new interesting freshman" mystique, but too old for the other kids to forget she hadn't always been there. Campbell had never seen her with anyone. And she was quirky, from what he knew. She didn't seem interested in hanging out with the other students much, and she rarely smiled. He heard from Harry, who heard from Kelly, that Elle was a dancer. It explained some things, like her almost fragile appearance, and the fact that he'd never seen her eat anything. Of course, not all dancers were tiny or thin or never ate, but she fit the stereotype.

He hadn't really considered dating before, but now that he had some grasp on what was happening in his head... Well, everyone else was pairing off, or flirting with some out-of-town hottie. Hell, even Cassandra had some guy she'd gone out and had coffee with when she went to scope out Yale. There were only five months of high school left, and he'd spent his entire school life just trying to survive and not get himself in trouble. Maybe it was possible he could find someone, too. And maybe, if he was right about her, Elle was a possibility. Even if it resulted in another friend, well, maybe having another friend was something that could benefit them both.

But then Harry's father died, one cold morning.

"All the money in the world," Harry seethed after the funeral, "and it still can't save you from stage four prostate cancer."

Campbell passed him a bit of weed that he'd gotten from one of his suppliers. "Shit luck. Most people survive prostate cancer."

"Yeah, well the dickbag never could be convenient."

He couldn't blame Harry for being pissed. Harry's mother was a wreck, diving into alcohol and pills herself in one of the most hypocritical displays Campbell had ever seen. She was on the verge of losing her job, the house was going to shit despite the fact that Harry tried to clean when he didn't have school. The only reason Campbell knew was because he started coming over to help Harry once a week. Which was, incidentally, how he found the cocaine.

Campbell held up the little bag of white powder as he cleaned underneath the bathroom sink. "Uh, Harry? What's this?"

"It's mine." Harry reached for it, but Campbell pulled back. "Fuck, Cam. Give it to me."

"You're snorting cocaine now? Harry, you're going to Harvard soon. You can't afford to get hooked on this shit."

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Yeah, I get it. But I also got my ass back in line, for the most part, and I'm not going to Harvard fucking Law School. Weed is one thing, alcohol is one thing. But this will fuck you up fast, man."

"Just give it back, okay? I just need a little bit right now."

Campbell stepped away again, as Harry tried to snag the drugs from Campbell's hand. Before he could blink, Harry had tackled him to the ground and was fighting for the bag. Campbell get punched across the jaw, but he barely felt it. He managed to flip Harry onto his back, pinning him down and holding him there while he struggled.

"Looks like you finally got me where you wanted me," Harry spat. "Asshole."

Campbell shrugged. "I actually prefer being on bottom."

"What, you actually turned fucking gay or something?"

"Bi, I think. Maybe. I haven't figured it out yet. Would explain a few things, though."

Harry stared up at him. At least he'd finally stopped wiggling. "Seriously?" When Campbell raised an eyebrow, Harry let his head thump back against the floor. "Huh. And I always thought you were joking."

"Were you?"

"I'm not gonna get my coke back, am I."

An evasion, but Campbell let it slide. "Nope. Not a chance in hell."

"I could get more."

"Sure, but then I'm not helping you clean up your mother's grief-riddled trauma hoard. Then you'll end up just like Lexie, trapped in your room by a wall of Cosmopolitan magazines and yogurt containers full of cat poop."

Harry let out a huff. "Whatever, fine. Get rid of it."

Campbell pocketed the cocaine and took it with him when he left. Of course he would get rid of it, in his own way. If he found the right buyer, he could get an easy $300 off it. He didn't sell much anymore, but it was an opportunity, and he wasn't going to pass that up. Especially since, after eight weeks of waiting, all his application letters had been rejected. No fancy school for him after graduation. Maybe he'd start a band and movie to New York City instead, or go flip burgers for some funky food truck in Boston, or buy a car with a rattling muffler and go on a cross country road trip with Harry when he was on break. Whatever. There was more to life than getting in debt for a slip of paper during a shitty economy with few job prospects.

In the meantime, he could still have a little fun. $300 was enough to get an ear piercing, and have plenty left over. The left ear, just because it was easier to get the damn thing in there; it wasn't any kind of statement. It was an impulsive purchase, but it made him feel good, and he needed the pick-me-up after all the college crap. Plus, it made his parents and other adults give him disapproving looks. Always a bonus.

Cassandra offered to help him apply to other schools. "You could still get into a decent one," she said as she made a poster for the pro-immigration rally coming up in March. "There are plenty of colleges near Yale that would take you. Or maybe you'd wanna go to Massachusetts with Harry?"

"And watch him drape all over his girlfriend every weekend? Gag me. No, I think I'm gonna run away to India and learn how to grow tea or something."

"Whatever suits your fancy. Are you coming to the rally with us? Gordie and some other friends are going."

Campbell sprawled across the sofa, peering at her upside down. Any reason to go past the West Ham town lines sounded like a good time. "Yeah, sure. Just in case I need to punch some fucking neo nazis for you."

"Perfect."

As things so often went, there were some little hiccups when it came time for the rally. No one had told Campbell that Sam was coming with. They all got piled into Gordie's truck, with Gordie, Becca, and Cassandra in front, and Campbell stuffed into the back with everyone else. Thankfully, Campbell managed to grab a window seat by saying he'd throw up like a dog otherwise. Sam was next to him, with Allie on the other side of Sam and Will at the driver side window. Less thankfully, Campbell could see Allie shooting him glares and whispering something to Will; he couldn't hear what was said, and he didn't really care, but it was an annoyance all the same.

"Do you have water?" Sam signed to him. It was the first time they'd really spoken in a while, and of course, it had to be to mother-hen him. "It's going to be warm out."

Campbell bit down his irritation long enough to reply with a curt 'yes'. Sam didn't speak to him for the rest of the car ride.

It was a bit less claustrophobic once they got to the rally. It wasn't huge, and they managed to stake out a spot in the shade. It was still too crowded for Campbell's liking, so he stuck to the little headquarters they established, guarding the snacks and drinks while the rest of them went out and got their protesting on. Becca came back sooner than the others, a vague pink stain on her tshirt and a smug smile on her face.

"What did you do?" Campbell asked as she flopped down and popped open a soda. "I usually only have that face when I've tripped Clark down the stairs."

Becca laughed. "Milkshakes are even better when you yeet them at an alt-right douchebag, as it turns out."

"Damn, I'm sorry I missed that."

"I'm kinda surprised you came at all. This isn't usually your scene, is it?"

"No. I'm more of a stay at home and binge watch Riverdale sort, but Cassandra wanted me to come with, and it's a few hours away from Stepford Central."

"For sure." Becca eyed him. He knew that look, that wary and curious sort of squint where someone was trying to figure him out. "Are you going to Harry's party tomorrow night? I think he finally got desperate enough to invite me, and my mom's got an appointment with Two-Buck Chuck, so I thought I'd check it out."

Campbell let out a small snort. "Yeah, I guess. He met some older folks when he went up to Harvard in September, so he's inviting them and their liquor."

"Ooh, anyone cute?"

"Like, guys?"

"Anyone," Becca grinned.

"Probably. Harry likes pretty people."

That was how they ended up going to the party together. Campbell had never really taken an interest in any of Cassandra's friends before, but he knew Becca was Sam's best friend, and she seemed like the right mix of sarcastic and broken that Campbell found relatable. Becca had never been to a proper party before, so they stuck together at first; Harry was off schmoozing with his new college buddies, Kelly smiling politely on his arm, and that wasn't anything Campbell wanted to interrupt. Not until Becca vanished.

"Hey, have you seen Becca?" Campbell wondered. "She went to get a drink about ten, fifteen minutes ago and I haven't seen her since."

Harry glanced up from his pack of drinking buddies. "Nope, I haven't. Maybe you got ditched?"

It was possible, Campbell reasoned. After all, he and Becca weren't exactly friends, and they hadn't made some sort of blood pact to stay together the whole night. Still, Campbell didn't know any of these people and something in his stomach didn't sit right. He prowled around the house, looking for some sign of her, but Becca wasn't downstairs at all and Campbell felt his suspicion deepen as he headed upstairs. When he finally found her, she was in one of the spare bedrooms, sitting on the bed and staring into space.

"Becca?"

She looked over at him. Her eyes were glassy, vacant. "Campbell, where..." Her speech was lightly slurred. "Where'm I?"

Fuck. Campbell moved slowly, coming over to her and kneeling down next to her. Her hair was messy, her clothes askew. Fuck, shit. "Hey. You're at Harry's party. What do you remember?"

"I don't... I don't feel good."

He grabbed her a wastebin and held her hair back as she threw up. At some point, she started to shake, and Campbell ran through the options. First, he had to check to make sure she was breathing okay, check her forehead with the back of his hand to see if she was clammy, check her pulse. She was sweaty and her pulse seemed a little slow, but maybe he could just drive her to the hospital himself.

"Do you think you can walk?" he asked. "I need to get you to a doctor."

Becca shook her head and moaned. "No, no, no. I don't wanna."

"Becca, if someone attacked you..."

"He didn't. He didn't, I wanted to. I really wanted to, but then everything got fuzzy and I don't... I don't even remember what he looked like." She began to cry, hard. "I just wanna go home."

Campbell frowned. If she had been raped, she needed to see someone. Didn't they test for DNA and shit? But he wasn't going to further traumatize her by trying to force her into an emergency room to get prodded at. Not when she was still drugged. "Alright. Do you want me to take you home?"

She nodded, leaning against him as he curled an arm around her and helped her to the stairs. Harry gave them a quizzical look as they made their way to the door, but Campbell just shook his head and Harry backed off. It was a longer walk to Becca's home, but they made it without too many stumbles. Becca's mother was passed out in the living room, so Campbell just steered Becca towards the room she pointed at.

Propping her up with pillow, Campbell tucked Becca into bed, but wasn't sure what to do after. Someone needed to stay with her for a few hours, make sure she didn't throw up and choke on it. "Do you want me to call Sam?"

"Don't." Becca huddled under her blankets, looking pale and miserable. Her voice was still weak and muffled. "Can you... can you stay for a bit?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Campbell sat on the floor next to Becca's bed, watching videos on his phone with the sound muted. Becca drifted in and out of sleep, and every so often she'd cry again, but she didn't throw up and she managed to keep down the glass of water Campbell brought her. Four hours later, and Becca seemed to be pulling out of it; her heart rate was better when Campbell rechecked, and her speech was clearer.

"Must not have been a big dose," Campbell muttered. Sick fucking assholes. "I think you're going to be alright from here, if you want me to go."

"I feel better. Thank you for helping me."

It would have been easy to just nod and walk out, but he knew she'd just been hurt. Badly. She was probably in shock. Even if she still didn't want to go to the hospital, he had to try a little before he just left here there. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Becca chewed her lip. For a moment, Campbell thought she'd reconsider, but she shook her head and forced a watery smile. "I just want to get some sleep." The smile faltered as her eyes filled with tears again. "I don't even know what happened."

"I'm pretty sure you got slipped GHB. That's not your fault, Becca."

She just stared down at her hands. "Can you not tell anyone about this? For now? Maybe... I need to think."

"Of course."

"Thank you."

Campbell picked up Becca's phone, adding his number into the contact list. "When you wake up tomorrow, if you need anything or want me to take you somewhere, or get you something, text me. Okay?"

"Okay."

And that was that. Campbell headed home, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do next. He couldn't tell Sam, and he couldn't tell Harry. Not yet, not without Becca's permission. Was it someone they knew? One of those leering frat boys Harry invited in? What if they gave Becca HIV or something? There was nothing he could do, not without betraying whatever thin amount of trust or friendship there was between them. All he could do was go home and wait.

What the hell was wrong with their town? Sam, getting a weird infection that took his hearing. Cassandra, with her heart problem and them both having strange brain wiring, cancer that just suddenly appeared and killed a man, hoarding and drugs and alcohol and, and, and... It seemed like it was just a never ending bunch of bullshit. What, was the town built on some kind of goddamn burial ground or something? He used to find people's petty dramas amusing, but looking back, things had always been just one rotten thing after another.

Campbell stood outside his home, gazing towards the door. It was past one in the morning, and he could see the light on in the living room. Maybe he could just... not come home at all. Shaking his head, he walked up the steps and opened the door. His parents were there, waiting. He didn't even try to speak first, or explain.

"Where have you been?" his mother snapped. "It's almost two!"

"Sorry. A friend of mine got sick and I had to make sure they were okay."

His father crossed his arms. "You're supposed to called. Who was this friend? Where are their parents?"

"Are you gonna ground me, or what? Because it's been a really bad night and I kinda wanna just go to bed."

"Apologize properly, and we'll think about it."

Campbell closed his eyes a moment, taking a slow breath. "I'm sorry that I didn't call. It won't happen again." You fucking creeps. "May I go upstairs now?"

"Fine. Go."

No need to be told twice. Campbell headed to his room and took a long shower, rinsing the smell of booze and smoke off him; if his parents had noticed, they had chosen not to bring it up. Yet. A small miracle, maybe. By the time he crawled into bed, he could barely keep his eyes open. He'd figure out what to do in the morning. It was April. Three months until graduation. After that, the town poison wouldn't be his worry anymore.

With luck, until then, things wouldn't get worse.

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chaoskirin · 5 years

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Fanfic -- A Temporal Folly -- CHAPTER 5

Fandom: Queen Genre: Sci-fi/Horror Rating: R Chapter Title: Detached (Chapter Five) Word Count: 2265 (oops!) Chapter Summary: Same thing, with 100% more Roger!

How we all mourn the broken Holding onto the slimmest ledge Our fingers slipping by the second Drawn to the inexorable truth That to change the fates of the never-ending masses Is to destroy the fabric that binds us all

2019

Roger crashed into his vanity, upended his chair, then fell to the floor. Winded, he fought against gravity to regain his feet, momentarily blanking on the logistics of up and down; in the end, he succeeded only in rolling onto his side.

What was he doing in his dressing room?

He was too fucking old for this shit!

Roger would admit that, unlike Brian (whose feet were firmly on good ol' Terra Firma), he often had his head in the clouds and had no qualms about breathing the vapors. So he wasn't surprised when his mind skipped past every logical explanation like dreams or hallucinations and went straight to alien abduction as an assured reality. It sure felt how he imagined an alien abduction would go, although the completely empty dressing room unnerved him a bit, and the blue light oozing out of the walls like a thoroughly squeezed snail was an odd touch. Had he acquired the good shit?

It said a lot about him that his second guess was "drugs," Roger supposed.

"Right. Up on the feet then," he told himself. Now that the initial shock had worn off, he reintroduced himself to the concept of three dimensions and peeled himself off the floor. His joints popped and cracked in protest.

As he tried to regain his bearings, he squinted at the weird gecko-like beast, stuck by its little spade-toes up in the farthest corner of Roger's dressing room. As calmly as he accepted his alien abduction, he took this in stride, only partly because his very brain seemed to have short-circuited. The rest was because he kinda hoped he'd made first contact before his dear friend and space nerd, Brian May. Wouldn't that just rankle!

"Where are your eyes?" Roger inquired at the toxic blue creature. It grinned with a maw full of sharp, irritating teeth.

In answer, it shuffled toward him, hissing like a leaky tire. Alas, it seemed he'd have to fight the thing. So much for peaceful first contact! How could he possibly fight this cow-sized creature, though, with its lack of eyes and weird suction-cup toes and its feral, white-rimmed grin?

He did what any blue-blooded Brit would do. He bunched it square in the mouth.

The thing was fast. In the blink of an eye, it had Roger's arm crushed between its teeth. He tried to cry out, but the creature already had itself wrapped around him; consequently, the only sound he could produce was a less-than-intimidating squeak. Every time he gasped, the creature constricted tighter.

---

Witness. ---

1993

The alarm buzzed. John reached over and snoozed it.

Five minutes later, the radio started playing Sinatra, despite John ripping out the FM transmitter just the night before. Grabbing the entire clock-radio, he launched it across the hotel room, where it shattered against a mirror.

Then, for good measure, he sat up in bed and gave the lamp a good solid kick. He'd be billed for it, and probably even kicked out of the hotel. Maybe he'd sleep in a ditch tonight for the thrill of it. None of that mattered, though, since he'd wake up in the same bed, at the exact same time, annoyed once again by Come Fly With Me through a tinny, sub-standard speaker. He glanced at his watch.

"Three. Two. One." As he pointed at the door, somebody rapped on it and called "Room service!" "Fuck off!" John growled.

He'd seen Groundhog Day back in his own Theta-Universe just before traversing the portal. The coincidence wasn't lost on him. Who knew such a temporal anomaly wouldn't be caused by driving off a cliff, but by mucking about in the past!

The most annoying thing was that he couldn't write anything down, because everything would disappear when the day started over. Infuriating! He had so many questions, and limited memory with which to remember them, or their answers.

"What is this," he grumbled, sliding out of bed. "Sixty? Seventy? A thousand?"

Every morning, he made a tick on the wall. The next day, of course, it was gone.

It was at least sixty, though. He knew that. And in those sixty days, he'd pursued every opportunity to speak to Freddie, but this universe's version was reclusive and distrustful. Once, frustrated with the lack of positive response, John tried to drag him off so they could talk, and ultimately ended up in jail.

It didn't matter. By then, he knew he'd wake up the next morning safe in the hotel bedroom.

Today would be different, though, John mused as he brushed his teeth. Humming a cheerful ditty that was definitely not Sinatra, he pulled the hairdryer out of its wall holster and used it to smash the mirror. If his actions didn't matter, if everything would reset in 24 hours, why shouldn't he take out his frustrations on inanimate structures? He spit the toothpaste out in the middle of the floor. "It's a glitch," he told himself. John often spoke to himself now, since he had no friends in this universe. He technically didn't exist in it, which meant no one recognized him, which meant he had no friends. "We fucked up the code. It was too much. We shouldn't have--" Today would be different.

Over the past few weeks--relatively speaking--John worked on finding the key to fixing everything. By the very nature of time-space, the machine he and his other self built also had to exist in this world. He should have entered into the Iota-Universe at the machine's location, but the glitch interfered and spat him out elsewhere. After triangulating all possible points of interest, he found it in the basement of an abandoned school only a half mile away from the hotel. The proximity made sense. And if he was right, which he'd find out today, the location of the machine, the hotel, and Freddie would create a perfect line.

That revelation didn't matter much before, but now it made sense. It was the continuum trying to correct itself, pointing the way to solve the problem. If John could get Freddie to the machine, his presence would act as a battery, activating it and allowing everyone to go home. He had to. At this point, he teetered just on the verge of madness. Living the same day over and over couldn't have been healthy for anyone.

--- Today, he'd try a different tactic. Today... Today it would work.

It was sad in a way, how meeting up with Freddie had become routine. The first few times John saw he old friend, he couldn't even approach for the tears in his eyes. And Freddie looked so whole and healthy. Standing in the presence of Queen's legendary singer made John's heart soar!

But while this Freddie had similar mannerisms and a rather sizable ego, he was reclusive, bitter, and almost hopeless. In the rare occasion John managed to find the right combination of words and platitudes to get this version of Freddie to talk, every word dripped with regret and bile. After Queen failed, Freddie's life folded in on itself. He repressed his sexuality. Settled down with Mary. Lived miserably.

John had doubts about taking this Freddie back to the Theta-Universe, but he still waited in the same park every morning just to catch a glimpse of his old friend. Sometimes they'd talk. Sometimes they'd fight. Today, John intended to test his theory on the machine.

At eleven o'clock and four minutes, Freddie sauntered past the park fountain.

As casually as he could, John pushed himself off the bench, falling into step just behind Freddie. He tried his best to act as if he had somewhere to go and just happened to be traveling in the same direction.

Astute, though, Freddie glanced over his shoulder. "Are you following me, darling?"

Every day the same question.

"Yes, actually," John replied. Before Freddie could get angry, though, he regurgitated a bit of trivia Freddie gave him just a couple days prior: "I saw you at the Itherian last night. You sing, right? Was that you?"

Yesterday, the spiel was too desperate and overstated. Today, John reined in his anxiety and evened his tone.

It worked. Freddie's face lit up, every trace of doubt vanishing. "Hey, yeah! I don't remember seeing you there."

Damn. A new variable. He could ruin the entire day if he answered wrong. Crossing his fingers in his pocket for luck, he tried, "Oh, I don't like to be around people. I kinda stay toward the back when I go to those things."

"There were only eight people there, dear," Freddie replied, arching an eyebrow.

"Eight too many," John muttered, trying his best to let his anxiety float to the surface.

"Oh, you've got it bad, haven't you? Poor dear. Well, did you like the set?"

If John continued along this conversational path, Freddie would ask which song John liked the best, and John had no answer for that. At that point, Freddie would see right through him and the day would be a wash. "Loved it," he said. And before Freddie could ask the wrong question, he quickly added, "I actually have a little place in the basement of an old school just down the block. I could use a regular. You want to see?"

Was that too creepy? It sounded too creepy. He'd have to work on his delivery for tomorrow.

To his surprise, though, Freddie said "Lead the way!"

---

"Interesting that you had to break the lock," Freddie grunted as John led him down the steps. Every one of them creaked underfoot with a squeal that sounded like each board was about to snap in half. Had they been that loud the other times John came down here? They must have been. He was just nervous and his senses were playing tricks on him.

"Ah, it's a work in progress," John said, whisking the dust-discolored sheet off the machine. His heart hammered as he turned to Freddie, who was staring at the contraption with a mix of disgust and curiosity.

"Is this what you intend to use for music?" Freddie asked. "Good God, is that a broken television set?"

"Actually, the truth is..." John fiddled with the dials, clicking the calibration from 6-2-5 to 6-2-6. It should have turned it on, which would give a heaping portion of credence to John's story. Shifting the sub-space translator node into the low-mid position, he said a quick prayer...

Please work. Please work. Dryly, Freddie scoffed, "Did you build this yourself?" as nothing at all occurred. "It's liable to belch dust before it creates music."

"I'm gonna explain, I promise. It's just that I'm from an alternate universe..." The truth slipped past his lips has he re-calibrated, trying 6-7-6 instead. Normally, that would be too high, especially with the translator node where it was. Maybe too high was just right for the Iota-Universe, though? "I was going to show you--hoping to take you back... There's this place where Queen made it, Freddie."

"Oh dear," Freddie drawled.

"Give me a minute," John snapped.

It had to work. It had to!

"How do you know about Queen?" Freddie asked. John briefly looked over his shoulder, to find Freddie peering down his nose. "I've not told anyone about the name. You've been breaking into my house. Looking at my sketches!"

The stray thought that this Freddie was also paranoid touched on John's thoughts as he tried to troubleshoot. "No, you must have told me--"

"I don't even know you!"

John sighed, resigning himself to another failure. He could try another approach tomorrow, of course. And the next day if he had to. And then the day after that. He started to wonder if perhaps he'd have to rebuild the machine! That'd give him an excuse to see if remaining awake for multiple days in a row would allow him to move past the same stretch of twenty-four hours, but was it worth the trouble?

He wasn't sure he liked this Freddie.

As John fiddled with the calibration, something slammed into the side of his head. The force caused him to spin around in a half circle and collapse onto the dead machine. As he lost consciousness, Freddie raised the two-by-four in his hands for another attack...

That was the first time John died.

Then his alarm buzzed.

"Ow," John grumbled. Sitting up and kicking off his sheets, he rubbed his unbruised temple, gritting his teeth. Though the pain was gone, the memory caused more than a couple tears.

He never bothered Freddie again.

---

2019

Roger could no longer struggle. Though his lungs reflexively tried to suck in just the barest hint of oxygen, he could no longer breathe. Though not one for giving up, he had to admit that this was over.

All he could think about was how wrong it felt to see that glimpse into John's mistake. How could he possibly have lived the same day over and over without going insane?

And Freddie...

That monster wasn't Freddie.

You wasted your time, Deaky, Roger lamented. You should have stayed.

You have witnessed,

the creature said, squeezing Roger tighter and tighter until his ribs cracked and snapped. Choking with pain, Roger's vision closed in until the lack of oxygen dragged him into a surprisingly peaceful demise.

#not bestiary #queen #queen band #fanfic #a temporal folly #ck writes

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sweetnestor · 5 years

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this is not a dream #7 | i don’t like you

the real reason ethan was taken under the teamiplier wing | teamiplier/ego au

WARNINGS: suicide, murder, blood, self harm, drug abuse, alcoholism, sex addiction

read at your own risk.

previous.

~January 2017

There were many, many wires. It was practically second nature for Ethan to feel the urge to strangle himself with all of them. But he was actually being watched this time. He was going to be watched the whole night, and hopefully something logical will come out of his disturbing sleep habits.

He had been putting this off for months for various reasons, one of them being that he was very busy. Another reason was that his sleep was so disturbed and spotty that he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the cause of it. He also didn’t want any of his friends knowing that he was here, and it was hard to shake them off these days.

But now Ethan was here, lying in a bed, surrounded by machines, and hooked up to practically all of them. The specialist was a lady who had streaks of color in her hair. She had been very thorough with explaining everything that would go down tonight. Ethan paid attention to less than half of what she had said. The wires attached to different parts of his body would determine what exactly he does in his sleep. That was the gist of it, right?

The only problem was that Ethan had walked into the clinic feeling the least tired he had ever felt. He looked up at the white ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. Then he picked his head up and looked through the window on the opposite end of the room. The colorful haired lady was on the other side, writing something on a notepad, not paying any attention to her patient.

Ethan returned to staring at the ceiling. He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. As soon as they were shut, he felt moisture in the corners of his eyes, trickling down his face. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. Was he asleep already?

He could still feel his surroundings. He was still laying down on the bed. There were wires still attached to his head, chest, and arms. He could feel goosebumps on his skin as the room got ten degrees colder. Oh no…

Suddenly, Ethan could see the room. The colorful haired specialist was still on the other side of the glass except… she was glitching? One flash was her just sitting and staring, then she was limp in the chair with her neck split open and her eyes burned out of her skull. It made Ethan actually vomit, except he couldn't open his mouth, so he choked.

He tried to move, but the wires felt like restraints. His body was stuck to the bed. Not only that, the mumbling was starting to return, just behind his ears.

No, please…

Coughs finally came out, and Ethan was sick all over himself. Dark red stained blood his skin and his white hospital gown. He still couldn't move, despite how repulsive and absolutely disgusting everything was. He just wanted to get out of his own skin.

Good idea.

No!

It started at the bottom of his feet. Searing pain was moving right underneath his skin. Ethan couldn't scream out loud or cry for help. He internally yelled at himself that none of this was real. It's all in his head.

Of course it's happening in your head, but why should that mean that it's not real?

The mumbling was getting louder. The skin was getting ripped off his legs, slowly moving up his body. It was unbearable, Ethan wanted to strangle himself with the wires. He wanted to inject something into his chest to make it all stop. He would much rather cut into his veins again.

And then it happened. Ethan was staring up at the white ceiling, and he felt a thousand white hot needles poke into his arms at once. He screamed, but no one heard him. He coughed up more blood, he choked and sputtered. He could feel someone standing over him, their face slowly coming into his line of vision. The vision flashed so quickly that Ethan couldn’t make out any facial features.

Make it stop. Please just make it stop. I'll do anything, I just want this to be over.

“Alright, Mr. Nestor, you're all set to go,” said a kind female voice.

Ethan's eyes opened. Of course that had all been a dream. He felt the specialist remove all of the wires from his body. He kept his eyes away from her, not wanting to be reminded of her burnt out eyes.

“How long was I out?” he asked, his voice raspy.

“The whole eight hours,” she replied as she removed the last of the wires. “You were perfectly still and undisturbed throughout the night. We'll give you a call as soon as we see the results.”

Ethan left the clinic feeling completely unrested and shaken up. He could still barely make out the mumbling in his ears and it made him even more uneasy. This wasn't a medical problem after all. There wasn't a logical explanation for this.

He got into his car and just sat there for a moment. He felt strange. Confused. Very out of place. His reflection in the rear view mirror was in his peripherals, but he didn’t dare look at his own face. His skin was crawling so much he scratched at his arms. The only thing he knew now was that he never wanted to sleep again.

The drive back home was a blur. Ethan spaced out a lot, even without whatever was going on with him lately. He was always aware of this little quality, but now it freaked him out. What if he spaced out long enough for him to not come back? What if whatever he saw in his sleep came back and took over?

“That’s ridiculous,” he breathed out as he entered his quiet apartment. Suddenly he didn’t like living alone anymore. “It’s just a dream.”

It’s not like he saw anyone anyway. It was just a bunch of bad feelings and physical pain that was a little too vivid.

~March 2017

No matter how bad things are, conventions always did some good. It was why Ethan looked forward to PAX East in Boston. Well, he always looked forward to it, even when bad things were not happening in his life. It was fun to meet people in his community and hang out with his long distance friends. Plus, he got to visit home for a while too.

Being close to home helped quiet down the things in Ethan’s head. He noticed that when he was home last Christmas. He didn’t have a single nightmare, and he didn’t hear any mumbling in his ears. He still hung himself in his room late at night, but having less weird things around him was better than what he got in LA. You could say that Ethan missed home because it kept whatever this was quiet.

Three of his YouTube friends offered to room with him for the weekend. For once, Ethan turned down all the offers. He couldn’t risk having any of his friends seeing what he does in his sleep. He felt bad about denying everyone, but it was for the best. He just had to come up with a valid excuse as to why he had to bunk alone.

The actual convention was just what he needed to boost his mood. Ethan was happily distracted by games, merch, and subscribers. He hung out with Kathryn, Brian, Sean, and Signe pretty much the entire time.

It was almost therapeutic.

Almost.

On the last night of the convention, Ethan found himself walking back to his hotel room, Sean at his side. A group of their friends met up at the bar in the lobby, and all Ethan knew was that there were many shots involved. Sean decided to bring him upstairs. Good friend, a very good friend. But if it was Kathryn, then Ethan wouldn’t feel as anxious about the things his drunk self was going to spill.

“I don’t normally do this,” Ethan mumbled. “You’re a good friend, I love you so much.”

Sean put his arm around Ethan’s shoulders. “Of course, man. I’m here for you. You really went at it tonight. Like you were drinking away your demons.” He chuckled.

Ethan wasn’t tipsy enough to miss his friend’s almost knowing tone. But he was tipsy enough to keep talking.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Silence dawned between the two of them as they walked down the hall. Sean looked down at the floor, putting his hands in his pocket. Ethan tried to see past the haze in his head. He spoke again when they approached his door.

“But I’m fine.” He wasn’t sober enough for this shit. “Thanks for bringing me back…”

“I know what you mean,” Sean finally spoke while Ethan fumbled for his key. “I don’t know why we’re like this. You’d think we would be happier, given all that we have.”

Now Ethan felt the need to help his friend. This was something he had never heard from Sean before.

“You would think I would be able to sleep more.” He wasn’t sure what made him say that.

Sean gave him a confused look, and then took the key from Ethan’s hand. “Okay, you definitely need to go to bed.”

At least Ethan could use the excuse of too much alcohol for his nonsense.

“You would think I wouldn’t hear things that aren’t there…”

“Okay, bouncing baby boy…”

Sean followed him inside the room. Maybe he wanted to listen in more on Ethan’s drunken rambles.

“I think I'm immortal,” Ethan whispered.

He stumbled past Sean to get to the bed, but a hand went tightly around his upper arm. Ethan wasn't drunk enough to mishear the change in Sean’s tone.

“Let's find out, shall we?” It was turned rough and grainy, like it was glitching in real life.

Ethan yelled as he was shoved into the wall. He swore he heard it crack behind him. He looked into his friend’s eyes; They were suddenly pitch black. One eye looked like it was leaking black tears going in all directions. Then he heard a clicking sound, and his body acted on its own.

He wasn't sure what made him do it, but Ethan instantly raised his arms to deflect Sean’s attempts to stab him with a pocket knife. The point of the blade came way too close multiple times, making the adrenaline spike through Ethan’s body.

His hands caught Sean's wrist before the knife could meet his heart. Ethan was breathing rapidly, his mind blank, holding his friend back with strength he didn’t know he had. His fingers dug into the black long sleeve, and he heard the slightest crackling sound coming from the bones.

Sean growled under his breath, madness in his black eyes. Then, in the blink of an eye, he pulled a second knife from his pocket and slashed across Ethan’s stomach.

Ethan gasped, feeling several things gush from his abdomen. He gurgled and groaned as he felt the knife puncture his torso multiple times. His hold on Sean's wrist loosened, he was sure to die this time around.

He felt himself slipping away, but his body still moved. Ethan’s hand snatched the first knife away. Then, as if he was being propelled forward, he pushed Sean into the opposite wall, the knife piercing him right through the throat and into the plaster. Sean choked and spit blood in Ethan’s face, and returned the favor by sticking the knife right into the boy’s chest.

The two stared at each other, still holding the handles of the knives. Ethan would have panicked, had he not felt his own blood drenching his body. Sean's eyes went back to their usual blue, except they were faint and staring without seeing, and he loosened his grip on the knife.

Ethan stumbled backwards, his vision blurring. He just killed his friend. He needed help. He needed to tell someone.

He mustered up enough strength to get out of the hotel room and limp down the hallway. What was Mark's room again? Were they even on the same floor?

His vision went blurry. He stumbled into somebody's door.

He felt himself falling… But suddenly he was walking again… He had tunnel vision, almost like he was peering through the lock on a door. He moved down the hall… Ethan was too weak to continue watching… Maybe someone found him…

Ethan woke with a start. He was lying on a bed, covered in blankets and cold sweat. He sat up, looking around the dark room. He almost thought he was still dreaming because he was in his bedroom in Los Angeles.

“The fuck…?” he whispered as he got out of bed. He walked around the space, searching for the light.

Well, it was definitely his room. His apartment. Wasn’t he in Boston last night? Wasn’t he supposed to be in his hotel room?

Suddenly, a deep knot formed in Ethan’s stomach. The hotel. Sean.

That had to be a dream, right? There was no way…

Next thing he knew, Ethan was running out the door to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, tore off his unusually sweaty t-shirt, and looked at his body. He could still barely feel the knife going through his chest, yet the skin there was unmarked. He remembered walking around with the handle of the knife sticking out of his body. He could feel his insides-

Ethan physically gagged. It was way too real to be a dream. He turned on the sink and splashed water on his face, trying to get back his sense of reality. Whatever was going on in his head, whatever was living in there… It was playing with him.

He jumped when he heard his phone ring in his room. Since when did he have the ringer on? Ethan felt weary as he stepped back into his room. His phone was left on the nightstand, and it was lit up with a new text message.

Sean: “Look at us being crazy bois!!”

It goes without saying that Ethan cleared that notification without looking at the attachment. So Sean was definitely alive. It was wild that Ethan had to confirm that. Did he dare ask Sean if he remembered what happened? Was it even Sean who texted him?

Aside from that, how did Ethan not remember coming back home? Did anyone else remember him coming back home? Surely not, considering that Ethan probably would have had more texts and concerning phone calls from the friends he saw. He looked through his social media and found nothing weird on his part. What the hell was going on?

Whatever this was, it didn’t want to be seen. That’s why his sleep test results were normal. That’s why PAX East went well.

This thing wanted only Ethan to know about it. It wanted Ethan to go crazy trying to figure out what it was. That was the only thing he was sure of. He was definitely losing his mind.

_______

next.

#blankgameplays #blankgameplays fanfic #darkiplier #darkiplier fanfic #teamiplier fanfic #peevils #stoneface tyler #kathryn the one with an important role #sweetheart writes #tinad #what one positive comment does :)#song: afraid by the neighborhood

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blessuswithblogs · 5 years

Text

Katsura Hashino is a Big Fat Creep and Other Observations

(for the record all uses of the word “queer” in this post are meant in the academic sense as shorthand for a wide umbrella group of gender and sexual minorities and not as a slur i hope that is evident from my past history and status as Big Gay Bitch Who Loves Girls but let it never be said i don’t cover my ass)

A few weeks ago, Catherine: Full Body Edition or whatever gross subtitle it got was released. Catherine has had a very checkered history as one of those games that is just kind of slimy, though it has endured with a cult following and a surprisingly successful competitive community by way of the game's multiplayer mode where you compete to see who can climb The Dream Sex Tower the best. Honestly, I don't know that much about Catherine because it is difficult to think of a game that repulses me more on a visceral level, but I want to do my due diligence and not talk out my ass. One of Catherine's initial claims to fame was that it was by Atlus Japan, specifically the same people who made the much beloved Persona games. This is evident in the game's art, music, overall style of delivery, and being basically hate speech.

The original Catherine was a greasy, misogynistic mess with some really vile politics about trans people in particular. Deadnaming your own fictional character in the credits is some next level petty malice. Full Body returns with, stupendously, a double down on this ideology that is actually kind of comical in how convoluted it gets in trying to decry the Degenerate Queer Lifestyle. The game adds a scene with Rin, who is apparently a gay crossdresser from space(???????), getting slapped away and running away crying from their love interest after he learns The Terrible Truth. In another game, with a different writing team, this could have been a teachable moment about the destructive consequences of taking too narrow a view of human sexuality and gender expression, but as it stands it's just another tiresome example of Trans Panic with a sheepish admonishment from the other characters that gosh maybe slapping their hand away was a mean thing to do.

So we're already firing on all cylinders here, but the best is yet to come. The bulk of the outcry comes from the addition of a weird "true ending" cutscene where Catherine, who is also from space, goes back in time to make everybody's life better. Or something. This is already pretty stupid on the face of it because its Fucking Time Travel Out of Nowhere, but the scene then depicts a pre-transition Erica, the game's trans character who got deadnamed in the credits the last time. There has been a lot of exceptionally tedious discussion about exactly when this scene takes place in the game's chronology and what it means for Erica, and some brain geniuses have tied their thinkmeats into pretzel shapes to prove definitively that all this means is that she delayed her transition in this Better Timeline, that might not actually be better, because Catherine is weird and selfish, maybe. And. Fine. Sure. Okay. Let's accept that for now. Given the game's previous track record, and continuing insistence on using Erica's pretransition name in the credits even in the rerelease, it is meanspirited at best to show her before her transition at all (many real life trans people would be utterly mortified for such a thing to happen to them) and overall just in poor taste and pretty lousy writing at that because it's so unclear what any of this actually means. Since the game has not yet received an official english localization, the context of this scene is to begin with muddled by amateur translators on the internet all with slightly conflicting interpretations of the scene. It's a fucking mess, by and large.

So I would disagree that this is a fake controversy manufactured by those damnable essjaydubyas. Even with the most charitable interpretation possible, it's still just really sketchy and gross. Erica's english voice actress, who seems to be very fond of the character, has been vocal about her dissatisfaction with the new scenes on twitter and has recently come out to say that the localization team is going to try and take some steps to make things less blatantly hateful. Between this and Jennifer Hale's recent tweet about it being time to grab our pitchforks in response to Activision-Blizzard's mass layoffs, I'm starting to think that voice actresses are pretty cool. I mean honestly I always thought that but we're getting off topic. One of the top competitive Catherine players, who was by all accounts really hyped for the release of Full Body, just straight up said on twitter that he was quitting the game because he couldn't support something like that in good conscience. I don't know if he's remained consistent on this position since, but it was a bold statement, to say the least.

Now, whenever an incident like this happens, the inevitable string of More-Progressive-Than-Thou white boys who watched an anime once and thought the bouncing titties were a little much appears to start pontificating about the cause of such untoward elements in media. And it's basically all just a bunch of Orientalist bullshit. Every time. For whatever reason, people still really love to be racist towards Japanese people because it's still sort of socially acceptable when couched in the language of "oh japan!!! ecks dee" and so the neverending procession of softboi neckbeards declared with confidence that Atlus's continual inclusion of Actual Hate Speech towards LGBTQ+ people was the result of the inscrutable Japanese Mind and its Mysterious, Antiquated Culture. Many mentions of the philosophy of Wa, wherein the nail that stands out gets pounded down, and lots of very lovely psuedointellectual claptrap. Evidently, people just seem to think that queer people don't live in Japan, or that they don't fight just as hard as we do for equal rights and protections under the law. They do live there, and they do fight as hard as we do. Obviously. You fucking imbeciles.

In their quest to clearly illustrate their moral and intellectual superiority to the backward, collectivist Asiatic Peoples, these highly reasonable and enlightened manboys forsook a very important logical principle: Occam's Razor. Sure, you could blame jApAnEsE cUlTuRe for Atlus's impropieties and just conveniently ignore all of the fantastic queer media it has produced in recent years like My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness, Horou Muskou, Nier Automata, etc. Or you could go for the simpler and more logically consistent option: Katsura Hashino is a big fat creep. Who is Hashino, you ask? He is the director of every Persona game since 3, as well as Catherine, and all of these games' gross shit and self-contradictory themes of self-acceptance and rebellion against an unust society (unless you're gay, ew) can probably be traced to him and his gaggle of accomplices. In addition to the fact that Atlus games not by Hashino's team tend to just. not have these problems to nearly as large a degree or even at all, Hashino himself has gone on record saying some really kind of hilariously backwards shit. Most infamously, when asked why in Persona 3 literally all of your social links with girls ended up with Hot Makeout Sessions regardless of like. Previously Committed to Relationships. Hashino simply said he couldn't imagine friendships between boys and girls. So that's where his brain is at. Since subsequent games in the series graciously allowed the player the option to not be a Huge Cheating Bastard, one can assume either his moral development has progressed past early puberty or somebody on the team convinced him this wasn't actually a normal thing to think. Given the man's output, I would say it's probably the latter.

It is because of this man's decisions and behavior that so many people are simply unwilling to give Full Body the benefit of the doubt. The game's director is, quite simply, a well known louse, and not in the endearing, Roger Smith way. Once again, it requires far fewer leaps in logic to assume that Hashino is just being a bigoted creep again than to go through some fuckin galaxy brain Kingdom Hearts-esque dot-connecting to justify it as just a LITTLE BIT bigoted not REALLY SUPER bigoted, or simply blaming the whole ordeal on some strange ineffable property of the Japanese Character. He's a gremlin! An overgrown manchild with a warped view of human interaction and society put in charge of games about exploring those concepts for.... reasons. My bet is that his dad knew somebody and then Persona 3 was successful enough for the rest of Atlus to just go "alright fine let him do it while we do mainline games". Unfortunately, Persona became so popular that the mainline games sort of switched places and became side-projects, at least in the eyes of the Western consumer base (which let's be real is the only perspective that any of these Serious Online Commentators even pretend to care about).

So I would once again caution everyone against just assuming that Japan is some sort of quaint anachronistic country of weird gameshows and backwards social mores. This is both a gross oversimplification of an entire culture and the struggles of their own subgroups and minorities and simply a grand display of lacking self-awareness. Like have you fucking seen the guys in the White House? The preposterous media that gets routinely greenlit on prime time TV, theaters, and digitally? Don't make me laugh. The West has no claim to any sort of progressive superiority to anybody else. The white cishet bubble of comfortable middle class affluence might distort what you see of the rest of the world, but believe me: we got problems too. Big ones. Even the presupposed bastions of Demsoc Virtue like Sweden have an awful track record of discrimination and eugenics. But Dazzlyn that's different, you cry! All of these groups and forces don't represent the entirety of Western culture! Yes. Exactly. Oppression is not culturally bound like cuisine or art. It is a nasty, universal thing that worms its way into everything, and it will use any excuse it can find to murder and exploit. It's against Christian values! It represents a genetic defect that must be purged! It's ostentatious and immature! The list goes on. And every time you giggle and go "oh those silly japanese" you're just being another expression of the same vile ideas.

I'm going to relate some of my own personal experiences, because as a noted Big Gay Bitch Who Loves Girls, I feel like maybe I have some authority on the matter? Just a little? Enough that if I make a well reasoned argument it can't be dismissed out of hand? Let's hope. So, what's the gayest game I've ever played? Final Fantasy XIV Online: A Realm Reborn. Look yeah I know I'm talking about it again but come back this is important. Final Fantasy is a series that has had a lot of LGBTQ+ undertones pretty much since forever, and while they have largely been in keeping with the times in terms of tact and representation (the Crossdressing Cloud debacle is a deeply bizarre, uncomfortable sequence in a lot of ways but there's also some genuine Good Gay Shit in 7 like Cloud's surprisingly cute and genuine date with Barret. I think. It's... it's been a while.), by God, it was at least there, and 13 had honest to god Lesbians, Harold in Fang and Vanille. I don't want to say it has pedigree, but the series has dabbled. XIV continues on the tradition with a vibrant world that's actually got a lot of characters and NPCs that are just incidentally there and kind of gay. The adventurer couple that befriended the Tonberries in Wanderer's Palace, a vendor that appeared in the Rising cosplaying as Minfilia at her wife's behest, a miqote lady bathing in the oasis that lets on she wouldn't mind having cute girls stare at her instead of grabby boys, every horny Elezen in Ishgard, Samson and Guydelot (shoutouts to Lulumi Lumi), and probably more that I've missed. More than that, though, is that because FFXIV is an MMO, it is by necessity a social space, and in my experience it has been one that has gone out of its way to be inclusive to everybody, from the GMs handling reports of abusive behavior right up to the top decision makers who made same sex player marriages a thing just immediately on its implementation and letting boys wear the gold saucer bunny costume too (albeit after quite a bit of pleading). The game's got a huge queer community of which I am kind of part of sort of. It's one of the reasons I keep coming back to it. Hell, they've recently partnered with a pride group in Australia to have an FFXIV float in a parade. I usually turn my nose up at such things as meaningless corporate grandstanding, but it does seem to be more meaningful than two boy pastas getting married or rainbow colored oreos because like. Cheesy as it sounds, it's more than just a brand to a lot of people, it's a place, sometimes the only place, they can go to feel safe and accepted in a community. Having official, vocal support from the dev team means genuinely a lot, I think.

Now, there is one quality about this game of which I am speaking that might strike you as noteworthy: it is Japanese. It's made by Japanese people, in Japan, under a Japanese company. A middle aged Japanese man goes up on stage in Gunbreaker cosplay to speak in Japanese about the upcoming expansion, while a meme obsessed gremlin translates for him. It's not perfect, there are problems, etcetera, why do I even need to qualify that in 2019, when everything sucks, god. But it's better than most things. I hope that it serves as an example to people that even in the supposedly regressive countries of the world, queer communities are still living, fighting, and sometimes even being heard, and that the only thing you're enriching by dismissing them wholesale as socially backwards is your own internet penis. And nobody fucking cares about that you simpleton. I expect 5.0 to be gayer than ever before because they're taming up with Yoko Taro to do a Nier themed raid and by the 12 Warrior of Light Dazzyn Reed is going to kiss 2B or an equivalent model right on the robot lips.

#catherine #persona #ffxiv #lgbtq #final fantasy #nier #japan

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xkdreamingx · 6 years

Text

Mafia AU - Exo

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The Wedding

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Masterlist

Xiumin -

You stood in front of the mirror in awe; the dress was everything you dreamed it to be, Your hair and makeup was perfect, you honestly felt like a princess. But there was still a twinge of disgust for what was about to happen. There’s no way in hell you could run though, Xiumin and his men have this place locked down tighter than any prison possibly could. But this was your own fault, you offered yourself in place of your sister, and you would gladly do it again. So you put a smile on your face and you head towards those doors ready to get this done and over with.

Suho -

You knew the drill, of course you did. You’ve been to so many mafia weddings that it’s not hard for you to spot all the men standing around with their hands hovering over that gun always, the thorough security check to even come in, but what you didn’t expect was the gun they let you keep in the garter belt. But it was kind of reassuring having that little bit of safety whilst you felt so vulnerable. You were about to enter a whole new life, even if it very much mirrors your current one. It was just a crazy thing to wrap your head around no matter if you were use to it or not. But nevertheless you had a wedding to attend, your own, and it’s probably not smart to make a groom with a gun in his coat pocket to wait long.

Lay -

You were thinking of your family when you made that deal. And you try to keep them in your mind while you stare at this girl you barely recognize in the mirror. You came from very little and to be standing here in a dress that probably cost more than your car, hell maybe even your house, was kind of crazy. All day people have been dress you, making you up, messing with your hair, and it all seems crazy to you. This is never how you imagined your wedding, I mean maybe your dream wedding with no money limits sure, but this seemed like one crazy fucking dream, not reality. It just didn’t seem to make sense to you. But honestly a lot of things they do don’t make sense to you. You just have to roll with the punches and go with it.

Baekhyun -

This wedding was to be expected, after all Mafia members normally don’t have a problem flaunting their wealth. It was extravagant, that’s for sure, but you can’t complain, you have your family and friends and that’s the biggest thing you could ask for. Your dress was one you knew you wanted the second you saw it and your dad could give two shits about the price tag if it made you happy. I mean after all you didn’t even want this marriage but mafia kids are normally used for pawns no matter what. If it brought two gangs closer together then fuck it, you’d marry Voldemort for all you cared. It’s very rare mafia marriages mean anything to the other one anyways, very little will change after all.

Chen -

If only you could run away, again. You succeeded once but they caught you and Chen sure as hell isn’t taking any chances this time around, guards everywhere, even outside your changing room door. One of the bridesmaid he chose in the room watching you every move you made. Hell you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a tracker somewhere on this dress. There’s no way you could run, you can’t escape, you lost all your freedoms, so the only thing left to do is hold your head up high and show no fear. If you’re forced to marry someone there is no way in hell you’re going to let them see you bothered by it. If you go down you go down with dignity. So with one last glance in the mirror you turn, read to get this show on the road.

Chanyeol -

This was your dream wedding, from how your hair was styled, to how the wedding was decorated, and even the fact that Yoora was your bridesmaid, the only thing out of place was the groom. It wasn’t that you were against marrying Chanyeol, he is a very sweet and handsome guy and after all you did say yes, you just always thought of him as Yoora’s brother, not much more. Of course over the time of planning this wedding you got more familiar with him but he still seems like such a stranger to you even if you are marrying him. But it’s not like you feel like this is a mistake, it just seems kind of odd to you, especially cause you’re not familiar with each other that much. You’re not going to run away that’s for sure but you can’t wait to learn more about Chanyeol hopefully soon.

Kyungsoo -

You’ve met Kyungsoo only a handful of times. That’s such an odd thing to say about your husband. I mean you guys were ‘engaged’ before you even met the guy. He chose you out of a bunch of other girls and you didn’t get why really. You honestly don’t know him well enough to know how he logically thinks but for some reason he chose you despite a lot of other girls possibly being better fits. But once again maybe you are the best fit of those girls, after all you know next to nothing about him and he knows very few things about you, this whole thing seems like a mess. Well no matter what you’re marrying the guy and at this point it’s a little too late for all this what ifs and second guessing on either of your guys parts. So you walk out those doors and down the aisle to your future, no matter how hell ridden it’s sure to be.

Kai -

Butterflies. That’s all you can think of, the millions of butterflies flying around in your stomach. You’re finally doing it, you’re marrying a man that you’ve loved for admittedly a short time but it still felt right to do so. What makes it better is that his parents are they, watching his son marry someone he loves. What makes it even better is that they approve of his choice to pick you. What makes it the best of all, there’s no more secrets and lies, you can love your boyfriend, I mean almost husband, right out in the open, and that makes you ecstatic. So yes millions of butterflies fill your stomach but you’re ready, I mean you’re about to become a part of a mafia family, if you can’t handle a few butterflies, you’re screwed.

Sehun -

It’s weird. Not the dress, the dress is beautiful, not the venue it’s gorgeous, not any little details, just.. the groom. It’s not Sehun himself that’s weird, it’s that he’s been your best friend for so long and now you’re marrying him. He’s not going to be your best friend any more, he’s going to be your husband, your significant other, the one you love, the one you kiss, the one you spend the rest of your life with. And you know it’s the rest of your life because of you do breakup it won’t be pretty. But the point is... Sehun is an amazing person you just never thought he’d be standing at the end of the aisle waiting for you, waiting to marry you. It felt weird. And you’re not sure that feeling will go away any time soon.

#exo masterlist #exo request #exo imagine #exo suho #exo reaction #exo lay #exo sehun #exo scenarios #exo kai #exo #exo reactions

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sincerelydayyy · 6 years

Note

82 for the sarcasm prompt list, any character you want and Sherlock!

“There’s someone for everyone, and the person for you is a psychiatrist.”

so I had to rewrite this because of a tech problem that was partially my own fault, oops.

I chose to go outside of the BBC sherlock for the other character(s) just because I’ve been doing a bunch of crossovers lately, so hey enjoy some ElementaryLock - Joan and Holmes are the two I chose but now typing this I can totally see my fave Detective Bell doing something like this.

note: I’m super behind on Elementary mostly cause I don’t watch tv live all that much anymore so I didn’t keep up past somewhere in s3 so this is just me messing around a bit. Also, first Elementary-esque fic so hope you like it!

on AO3 here | Buy me a coffee if you like? | Wanna request a sarcasm prompt?

Sherlock Holmes was fairly certain he was hallucinating. There couldn’t be two of him in the same place. It just didn’t seem logical at all. If the identification card he was holding of the man sitting in front of him - one of two people in the room other than him - wasn’t a forgery then perhaps he was simply on something.

He didn’t recall taking anything. In fact, he had been on a case for a grueling two weeks. A thought occurred to him with that thought in mind. He had to be sleep deprived - or asleep, something that he hadn’t forced himself to do in at least seventy-two hours.

Yes. That had to be it.

This whole bizarre situation was much too vivid for a dream. Yet, he planned to treat it as such until something changed.

“Where are we?” He decided to ask as he passed over the ID back to its owner; the other Holmes.

“New York.” The man replied simply. He couldn’t tell what accent he was sporting but Sherlock didn’t think it sounded very American at all. He was dressed very relaxed in a button up shirt and corduroy pants, no shoes he noticed with a second more focused gaze.

He definitely hadn’t taken a trip to America in the last two days. Dreaming, surely.

“Problem?” Called the woman to his immediate left who was dressed to impress.

“Who are you?” He asked instead wanting to get an answer that might give him more information on the situation at hand.

“Joan Watson. A detective on most days, a former surgeon.”

A second Watson now?

Why would he dream that up? The one he had made very unsettlingly decisions but that was neither here nor there. There was also the added bonus that this one was female and quite attractive. It was almost distracting.

“Not possible.” He stated mostly to himself than the two alternative versions of himself and his best friend. They were different. Vastly so.

“There is definitely a problem here, Watson.” The other Holmes changed from being bored almost listless to suddenly very intrigued by Sherlock.

Sherlock looked down at himself and had to admit he was a state. Hair a mess, clothes ruffled and not pressed by any working iron. Was he sweating? Sick?

“What? There is no problem.” He insisted. He was in denial.

“Why don’t you tell us what you’re struggling with and maybe we can aid you, Sherlock?” This Joan person said to him.

He was tired, that was the only reason he basically laid out his whole past month to these two strangers who were definitely from an opposite parallel universe where he resided in America.

The other Holmes looked amused by the end of it. “There’s someone for everyone, and the person for you is a psychiatrist.”

“I’ve been to those before. So unhelpful.”

Joan Watson laughed. “Sounds familiar?” She was talking to her counterpart and not Sherlock but he reacted by the sudden change in her demeanor upon noticing it. “Before you can go any further with this pathologist woman you have to sort your own life out. You’ve been through a lot and you can’t just expect things to go back to the way it was just because you were used to it. If you love her, deal with yourself first.”

“Of course I do. You’re in my head, by the way.”

“Then that tells you more than anything else we could tell you, Holmes.” The other Sherlock told him flippantly before retrieving his phone out of his pocket. He was bored again.

He was felt something cool on his face. It took much longer than it should have for him to come out of that dream or conversation or whatever that was.

He instinctively reached out for the hand that was retreating from around his head where a cool compress had been applied and shook him awake. He met a familiar set of brown eyes. She looked tired.

He wasn’t sure what to say but he let go of her hand. She just sighed. “You’re going to work yourself into a grave, you know that?”

It was nice to know she cared even if he didn’t give her a lot of reasons to be here - in her own living room by the looks of it - taking care of him.

“What’s wrong with me?” He mumbled quietly.

“Do you want an honest answer?” She rolled her eyes, hands resting on her hips. She was in pajamas.

He was tempted to be sarcastic. But, he wasn’t feeling that great. His body was on fire. “Medically, Molly.”

“Like I said, you’re going to work yourself to death. This case is taking a lot out of you. You need rest like the rest of us, Sherlock Holmes.”

“How did I get here?”

She gave him a look. “You called me. When I didn’t answer your best friend called me thinking you were dying and not wanting to deal with you. So you’ve been on my couch for three days in a feverish fit. You kept mumbling weird shit.”

“Hope didn’t inconvenience you too much, Molly. I’m sure I can deal with getting better on my own.” He tried to get up.

She pushed him back down. “I’ve been fielding calls with your parents who expressed deep frustration with you so no. We’re stuck in this mess until you’re at 100%.”

“Sorry. They can be a bit much.”

Molly snorted. “Not really. Your mum is a sweetheart, your dad is pretty quiet. They just want you to take care of yourself like you’re supposed to. They didn’t give me a lot of information but I’m assuming it involves whatever happened with your sister that involved that phone call.”

“She was threatening you.” He finally told her.

Molly sat on the arm of the sofa above his head, placing her hands in her lap. “Yeah. I’m not an idiot.”

She didn’t sound upset just tired.

As much as it annoyed him to even think, those other versions of himself and John might have been right. “Can we set this conversation for a later date? It might surprise you to know I’m still sorting through all of this and working a case.”

“The case has been solved.” She paused as she looked down at him. “But, yes. I’m not in the mood to go through all of that again. Postpone it as long as you need.”

“I would prefer to tell you what I’ve been trying to for the past month now but as you noticed I’m not well and you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’d be surprised.” She said quietly.

He didn’t know how to respond to that or the fact that she was moving his hair out of his face. Her hands like the compress felt good against his skin. He didn’t move. Or say a word.

Silently though he regarded her statement.

You’re always surprising me, Molly.

I kinda like the second rewrite. I hadn’t exactly planned that Sherlolly part. It was just going to end with him waking up and seeing Molly looking after him. I still like it a lot.

Feel free to let me know how you felt about it too?

#sherlock #joan watson #sherlolly #elementarylock #homeboy is definitely not used to being sick #day's fics #prompt fill #noregretsnotearsnoanxieties #asks

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hoodieimp · 6 years

Text

So I had a really wild dream last night...

I personally blame @eclectic-spaghetti ’s BatIM AU writings for inspiring at least half of it…

(Putting the full text under a readmore because sweet Lordy LOU this is gonna get long…)

It started with my family visiting my aunt’s “summer house”, which had apparently been renovated since we’d last been there. So my aunt was showing us around, going through all the new rooms that had been added and whatnot (although, like in most dreams of mine, the architecture was all nonsensical and fluid, changing from moment to moment).

When we got to her “office”, she began showing us a bunch of old photo albums, souvenirs, and other junk from past vacations. Amongst all the clutter, something caught my eye: a bundle of old theme-park brochures and assorted papers, including an “employee handbook”/maintenance manual of some sort, seemingly written by a “Henry Iwerks”(!!?!?!), and a series of rough blue-pencil sketches that, when flipped through, created a rough animation of Boris dancing.

My aunt saw me looking and said something along the lines of, “Oh, those are from our trip to Drew World! Don’t you remember, honey?”

And suddenly, in that weird dream-way where you somehow instinctively know about things that never happened to you, I did remember. I remembered it so vividly, in fact, that it catapulted me into a sort of full-body flashback.

Cut to all of us–my sister and I, my parents, and my aunt–on vacation at mother-flipping Joey Drew World, of all places. From what we saw of the park, it actually looked quite nice and well-kept–lots of rolling lawns, flower beds, and a miles-long manmade “river” with paddle boats you could ride in. Joey Drew himself (who appeared like a cross between a younger Cab Calloway and good ol’ Walt Disney, albeit with wilder hair) kept joining our group at random moments, acting as an impromptu tour guide of sorts, answering our questions about the park’s history and all the different attractions and whatnot.

However, there were times when he seemed to decide that we were getting a lit-tle too nosy with our questions, at which he’d pull out this weird device: a foldable wooden diorama with a tiny picture in the middle that spun when he turned a crank, so you could never quite make out what it was supposed to be (basically a more complex version of the World’s Most Distracting Object from Gravity Falls). He’d have us stare into it while he cranked it and gave some spiel about “focusing on what really matters” or some shit, until we’d either a) completely forgotten what it was we’d seen, or b) been hypnotized into thinking whatever strangeness we’d glimpsed was completely normal.

And believe me, there was a LOT of strangeness. Me being the ADHD kid I am, I kept getting bored and wandering off to other attractions or into “employees-only” areas, and every time I inevitably stumbled across some weird shit. Turns out the entire park was basically one huge thinly-veiled supervillain setup meant to turn all the unwitting park-goers into toons for God-knows-what purpose. Among other things, I found:

“The Infirmary”, where newly-transformed toons were kept briefly in order to “adjust” before heading out to work in the park–I walked in on Boris (or at least a Boris) laying in bed while a nurse peeled bandages off his chest (He let out a very Goofy-esque “Gawrsh!” when he saw me, but strangely, the nurse didn’t object to some random kid strolling in).

(Also present was a toonified version of my cat, Lola. Because apparently hypnotizing my immediate family wasn’t enough for Joey; he had to kidnap (catnap?) my pets, too.)

A big industrial kitchen where all the park’s food, from restaurant fare to concession stand snacks, was “prepared” (read: laced with–what else?–ink)

[This actually kind of tied in with a previous part of my dream–I’d been eating some fruit snacks earlier that I thought tasted funny, but no one had believed me when I complained…]

A guy playing an old-fashioned fairground calliope (that had a likeness of Scrooge McDuck on it for some reason?) that caused everyone in the vicinity to break down in hysterical laughter. Like, Joker Venom-induced levels of hysterical. But for some reason I was completely unaffected–classic dream protagonist logic, I guess?

I didn’t see him face-to-face, but i overheard somewhere that all the fucked-up processes that went into “toonifying” visitors were being overseen by Henry of all people??? Which begs the question: did Joey press-gang him into it, or was he in cahoots with Joey and doing all this shit to innocent people willingly??

More of a weird sidenote than anything, but throughout all this, there was a…conspicuous lack of Bendy?? Like he appeared on one or two signs or pieces of merch, but the actual Little Devil Darlin’ himself was nowhere to be found? (which was probably a good thing given the circumstances but also kinda ominous as all hell)

Also, at one point I was riding around the “river” in one of the paddle boats and trailed my hand in the water, only for Joey to pop up from behind and cheerfully inform me:

“Oh by the way, we’ve got a bull shark living in the canals who likes to nibble on people’s fingers! But not to worry, she’s vegetarian, so she won’t bite that hard!"

At which I SHOT out of the boat and into the air, cartoon-style, with such force that I started FLYING over the park and didn’t come down for another five minutes, before abruptly crash-landing and waking up.

#shut up delta no one cares #delta's dream journal #bendy and the ink machine #drew world #sort of??#joey drew #honestly the best part was the apparent revelation that henry's last name is fuckin /iwerks/#even dream-me thought it was hilarious #i distinctly remember thinking ''iwerks?? as in the guy who made mickey mouse??''#even my fucking subconscious has trouble coming up w original ideas #long post #i'm so sorry this is a complete mess

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terrible-tentacle-theatre · 7 years

Text

The Bestiary Revamped: Bobbit Worm

Disclaimer: While this article is founded in scientific fact, it contains hyberbole and conscious exaggerations for the sake of comedy. Do not take my ramblings at face value. You can find the sources at the end of the article and tools for scientific fact-checking under the “Learn more” link on my blog.

The old article can be read here.

(Note: While writing this article, I was listening to the Final Fantasy IV boss battle theme.)

(Okay, so. Anyway.)

Of all the phyla of animal life, you’d be hard-pressed to find any that is more prominent in the public conscious as the epitome of harmless, pathetic, and ultimately boring animals than annelids.

I mean, what else, would you call a taxon that’s most famous member looks like this?

Wow. Fascinating.

Let’s be honest: earthworms aren’t the most exciting animals, to put it mildly. It’s truly difficult to imagine any more generic a creature than a tube of pasty and easily smearable flesh writhing on wet pavement after a light rain.

However, you might want to be careful when talking trash about earthworms and their fellow annelids. These pathetic all-organic homegrown noodles are essential to the circle of matter, and if they get fed up with your disrespectful shit they can just up and ditch the whole detritivorous routine, leaving you, and you personally, to literally eat dirt in their place. Be respectful to earthworms because they deal with all of the shit you don’t want to deal with, both metaphorically and in a literal sense.

But if that isn’t enough to convince you that you shouldn’t diss earthworms (in which case you’re probably an asshole to begin with), consider the following: if they can’t take more of your racist bull, they can tell on you to their big strong cousin. And pray to whatever transcendent being(s) you believe in that doesn’t happen. You do not want that to go down.

Why?

Simple.

Turns out, the ranks of the annelids apparently include the fucking Sarlacc.

*unholy screaming*

Meet the bobbit worm (Eunice aphroditois), the newest resident of your recurring nightmares. Who knew that the cousin of the lowly earthworm is a vicious mashup of one of those bendy rainbow pencils and Shai-Hulud that also happens to eat happy thoughts for breakfast? Standing at a maximum length of roughly three goddamn meters, this lethal length of rope will shear anything with the balls and/or the stupidity to approach it in half and look fabulous with its iridescent cuticle the whole time. That is no exaggeration, as you will soon come to see.

This terrible killer rainbow was discovered in 1788 by a German naturalist called Peter Simon Pallas. Imagine hopping on a boat in the late 18th century, in a time when most people still believed in the existence of a good and loving God, and finding this. Imagine his reaction.

Actually, you don’t have to, because we have his portrait and you can see his empty-eyed stare shining through. “Scarred for life” doesn’t even begin covering this bullshit.

Seriously, look into his eyes. Dude’s dead inside.

Sweet lord have mercy. This guy is the real reason why you don’t talk shit about annelids. You can boast about being “the most intelligent creature on Earth” and “the crown of creation” and blah blah blah. Fat load of good it’s gonna do ya against a 10-feet-long rainbow death worm with spring-loaded jagged mandibles quite literally the size of your middle fingers.

Crown this.

And guess what - that worm is fucking pissed at you. You talked trash about its phylum and now you’ll get what’s coming to you. Next time you’ll think twice before you try talking down on annelids.

To better put in perspective why you should soil your pants in fear at this prospect, let’s review the bobbit worm’s life and times, as well as its lovely feeding habits.

Oh boy!

This will be fun.

So, the bobbit worm basically comes to be from the worm jizz and eggs floating around in the ocean. (Keep that in mind next time you go for a nice refreshing swim on the ocean beach.) The fertilized eggs hatch into microscopic little specks called trochophore larvae, which then drift around in the oceanic currents as plankton like a bunch of lazy shits. Fairly humble beginnings for what will soon become the beast that is the bobbit worm. It’s a bit like how Darth Vader used to be a slave on a backwater desert planet as a kid.

Note: this isn’t a bobbit worm trochophore, but that of another polychaete worm (Pomatoceros lamarckii), used here for demonstration. Anyway, they’re difficult to tell apart but one hatches into a harmless tube-building worm and the other a ravenous ten-feet-long predator with a pair of garden shears for a face. Polychaete larvae are like Kinder eggs, Russian roulette edition.

After growing out of its larval stage, a whole lot of completely uninteresting shit happens (mostly the gaining of additional segments), ending with a small mature worm that embeds itself into the seabed in a sufficiently warm and sunny part of the ocean.

What follows next is something right out of Return of the Jedi. What, you thought I was kidding about the Sarlacc?

The bobbit worm spends all day laying low in the seabed, waiting silently, with only the tip of its head sticking out of the sediment. Said head comes equipped with five chemoreceptory tendrils, allowing the worm to “taste” the water around itself. This comes in handy, seeing as it is completely fucking blind and the thought of growing eyes never even crossed it’s mind (which is actually fairly complex for an annelid). It’s like one of those blind sword masters from wuxia movies, except it’s a terrifying giant worm instead.

Aaaaaanyway! If the worm senses anything that “smells” edible, it correctly deduces that it is, in fact, edible. Which logically means that something was stupid enough to approach it without hightailing it out there. Therefore, it becomes a one-worm Darwin Award Committee and does this.

Steppin’ on the beach, do do do doOOOAAAAAARGH

You know, the longer this article gets, the less it feels like this is biology and the more it feels like I’m writing some sort of weird Dune fanfiction.

I feel like I should note that the bobbit worm’s definition of “edible” is amazingly flexible. This fucker will eat anything that comes close to it’s terrifying maw. Crabs, shrimp, fish, worms - anything with or without a pulse is at risk of suddenly being snatched by a horrifying giant worm and swallowed alive to be digested into slurry. If you’re lucky, though, it will miss and only ends up cutting you in half with the sheer force of its strike, completely by accident. Sweet dreams.

Speaking of its digestion, there is absolutely nothing that it cannot break down. It has zero problems wolfing down entire animals twice its width, and one incident involving a bobbit worm sneaking into an aquarium had it shred wire traps furnished with fishing hooks to pieces, then swallowing the hooks and digesting them, followed by eating its way through 20 pounds of fishing wire. I’m pretty sure the next thing to be broken down in its gut will be human civilization.

And if there’s nothing around to eat, the bobbit worm still firmly refuses to die. It will sustain itself just fine on detritus, algae and tiny little silica-shelled plankton called diatoms who are easily some of the prettiest things in the ocean.

It eats pure aesthetic and turns it into rainbow cuticle and mandibles that can shred any fish to ribbons. The bobbit worm is truly the pastel goth of the ocean.

They also have a nasty habit of occasionally burrowing into rocks when young, and ending up in aquariums in secret. There, being the insidious little assholes that they are, they bury themselves into the sediment and secretly start to munch upon the dumbass utopian fish society inside the aquarium, growing from angry shoelace to technicolor abomination in the process. Often it takes years to notice the bobbit worm hanging out in your aquarium, which is a pretty big feat. Imagine if you had to stay concealed in an glass-walled aquarium for years... while being three to ten feet long and covered in garish rainbow color. This guy could effortlessly drive Naruto out of the colorful ninja business. Enjoy your paranoia next time you buy live rocks for your aquarium.

In D&D, the bobbit worm multiclasses as assassin and barbarian.

Now I hope you understand that being a fish is akin to cosmic horror. Any moment you might be cruelly snatched out of existence by a being that is outside your generally accepted reality (the water) and also happens to be shit-your-pants terrifying and even have tentacles to round out the Lovecraft aesthetic. And they are covered in bristles that cause permanent numbness, just by the way. Just in case they weren’t horrifying enough, Mama Nature’s got you covered.

Oh, and one last thing: they are found in all three oceans.

So anyway, how’s planning that seaside vacation going? Have fun!

Sources:

Encyclopedia of Life (EoL)

Echinoblog

Global Biotic Interactions (GloBI)

Ocean Biogeographic Information System (OBIS)

SCHULZE, Anja. The Bobbit worm dilemma: a case for DNA (Reply to Salazar-Vallejo et al. 2011. Giant Eunicid Polychaetes (Annelida) in shallow tropical and temperate seas. Rev. Biol. Trop. 59-4: 1463-1474)

The Daily Mail

#bestiary #bestiary revamped #polychaete #worm #annelid #predator #ridiculous jaws #sessile #colorful #nightmare fuel #too fucking large #nope #nope nope nope #so much nope #taking the nope train to fuckthatville

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authenticaussie · 7 years

Note

You posted a god!au awhile ago that had a snippet of another idea i thought was really interesting. Ace steals something from the gods and gods marco and sabo get sent after him, except they fall in love? it sounds so cool!

“except they fall in love” sighs happily yes I really Love that sort of schtick. Like!!! whoops didn’t mean to but oh no it’s Here. Feelings. Anyway it was based a LOT on the myth of Prometheus because like come ON, stealing fire….it’s totally ace omfg. So it took a while to figure out?? a plot?? ajhsdgf

ANYWAY AFTER LIKE 3000 YEARS!!!!!!!! (I’m so sorry)

Commissions || Ko-Fi || [Requests are closed!]

So basically in the sort of deity system set up here, there’s three levels - you got your all-powerful fuckers ala Zeus/Poseidon/Hades (who???? Idk??? maybe one of them is Whitebeard?????????? Something like Sky/Sea/Earth and like, Dragon for Sky and Roger for Sea and Whitebeard for earth but at the moment the position for Sea is under contest ‘cause Roger just up and fucked off omfg. So Luffy’s a minor god gunning to replace him against a bunch of other gods!! But at the moment Sea is controlled by a couple of other 2nd Tier gods.)

And they’re basically omnipotent but also they’re not allowed to interfere in the mortal world and they’re very Greek God in that they make mistakes too and That’s Just What Happens when you give ultimate power to immortal idiots. Regardless, they basically just Do Shit when they get prayed to in special places and by a heap of people. They’re the end-of-all-wars shit gods, and they Rule the. God place. Hence forth referred to as Olympus ‘cause I can’t think of a name atm and this is based enough off Greek mythology for me to get away with it haha.

Second tier gods are like, gods of wisdom and power and war and math (////side note if I wrote this as original fic he’d be really calm and logical all the time and be an ear to the gods and talk about probability all the time but his siblings are the Fates equivalent and they FUCK WITH HIM SO MUCH WHEEZES).Anyway 2nd tier gods work as the go between for the 1st Tier and 3rd Tier gods. They do some shit in the human world, fuck around, make some miracles etc., but most of the work is left to 3rd tier godssss lIKEEE

marco and sabo!!! 3rd tier gods are really fucking specific. Like, god of stubbed toes, god of papercuts, god of singing in the shower, etc. They all are ordered around under different 2nd tier gods (eg. the god of papercuts and the god of stubbed toes would both work under the god of pain and stuff like that.) I’m not 100% sure but I think Marco’s a god of faith to family?? or like, faith to loved ones?? And Sabo’s god of forgotten memories. (He forgets things, but then he’s god of forgotten memory so he remembers them, but then he forgets them again- it’s frustrating being him). So they’re both under the gods of memory. Or. Something. SHRUGS??? USELESSLY????

Anyway, Ace has stolen fire! Which 2nd tier god Blackbeard, the god of Darkness, convinced the 1st tier gods that they should have. ‘Cause humans were dicks? And needed to live in fear and darkness so that they continued to worship gods? something like that. In actuality, fire was forming its own spirit/god/representation and he Really Did Not appreciate the competition. ‘Cause if fire formed into a God then Blackbeard had to share some of the 3rd tiers working under him, and a bunch of new gods would be created, and everything would go all topsy turvy for a while and Teach really liked how the world was coming along at the moment. He understood it and didn’t want thinks to change.

But so, anyway, you know, forgetting memories and stuff - Sabo can track people, too, because people sometimes forget where they’d just been, or bits and pieces of it? and minor deities can look at Small Things and interfere w/ human lives, unlike 1st and 2nd tier gods, and he and Marco don’t get a lot of work so they’re waved off to go find Fire, along with a couple of other minor gods, (but they’re the ones who Actually find him, but, first,)

They set about tracking Ace, who’s uh…..adapting to holding a Literal Godly Weapon pretty well, actually. And also getting a significant power boost just from luggin’ it around, he’s been setting stuff on fire and lifting shit up that most normal people Cannot Lift and giving everyone he meets fire and stuff and that all kiiiinda means he goes pretty slow haha, so marco & sabo catch up with him pretty easily (mistakes were made)

And so ‘cause they’re not s u p e r powerful, especially not in comparison to buffed-as-fuck by fire Ace, they follow him for a while and try and figure out a plan, and start?? Noticing some Weird As Fuck stuff. Like the joy humans feel when given fire, and that their prayers and worship seem to increase rather than decrease, and that it’s actually pretty weird that Ace managed to get away with stealing fire and now has all sorts of weird abilities that one only usually associates with a god and oh dear sweet lord he’s second tier isn’t he

This is Understandable due to the fact that like. There are so many gods. How are they supposed to know ALL of them?? Also 2nd tier gods are usually Dicks, or just plain busy, and so it’s a huge messy bureaucracy of running around and trying to find out if there even is a god of water and if so why isn’t the god of rainstorms under them instead of under Earth and who the fuck was meant to be taking control of the city this year because it just got invaded again and the Fates are laughing themselves sick in the corner gods damn it all

So Marco & Sabo are lowkey panicking towards each other and Ace is dealing with weird as fuck memories from the fire - ‘cause, see, BAM BAM BAAAAAAAAAM

The fire made him!!!!!

Well, okay, slightly more complicated than that. Remember how I mentioned that Roger fucked off? well he gave up his immortality to spend the rest of his life with a human lady called Rouge. They end up as stars when they die, together forever, but, also, there’s still the hint of a god in Roger and the slowly building concept of fire, trapped and unable to do anything, basically sent down a blessing to Rouge and Roger’s kid, and the kid was Ace! Who’s kinda, Disney hercules movie style has lots of weird shit happen to him. He’s got crazy endurance and strength and speed and Rouge is looking at Roger disapprovingly as Ace grows up and Roger’s like I didn’t!!! do it!!!

Anyway so Ace has dreams of fire and weird visions all his life and finally confides in his parents and Roger reveals a bit of godly knowledge in the form of a myth and says that fire was stolen and kept by the gods and Ace is like oh I must be getting a vision from one of them to steal it! And none of them question that this might actually be a really bad idea so they just let Ace go and the fire’s like fuck yeah, rejoining! And starts reclaiming its power/joining with Ace to make ace god of Fire, but he’s still mainly human now. And doesn’t know he’s meant to be a god haha, he’s just like oh this is cool, superpowers! Must be because of this thing I stole that really makes sense?

Anyway he’d end up being a second tier, which is why he has all these random as fuck powers, but meanwhile sabo and Marco are d YI N G BECAUSE WHAT!!!!!!!! DO THEY DO!!!!!!! And Marco and Sabo are like literally what the fuck do we do ‘cause!? They’re not powerful enough!!! to fight a 2nd tier!!!

And then Ace gets hurt.

And gods can’t get hurt.

so Mar/Sab bust out and are like haHA you’re not a god!! You were lying!!!

when the fuck did I ever say I was a god? Ace asks, and then is like, ah dear sweet lord they’re gods I shOUL D HAVE EXPECT ED THAT ONE. And they have a little fight but Ace is still kinda injured and so they basically? Sit on him? And are like “return fire to the gods”

“Fire belongs to humanity!” / “Also like, I got??? visions of stealing it????? So some god obviously wants me to have it.”

“There’s a lot of fuckin gods man, just ‘cause one sent you visions doesn’t mean you go out and steal something from the goddamn gods. That’s why we have official translators!!!”

“Which god was it???” Sabo asks curiously, and Ace is like, ///gestures uselessly

“Idk???? fire god??? I was just holding fire. Which like. Hasn’t been a thing since Mom’s era.”

“There is no fire god.”

“What, legit????”

“Yeah, ‘legit’. Who sent you the visions?????”

“Idk, I told you!!! I just saw myself holding fire!!! And using it, and sharing it, and-”

“What, like, using it using it?”

“How else would I use it?”

Confused As Fuck Boys TM, just looking at each other, and Ace is like hey btw can you get off me now?? / “No, you’re our prisoner”

“WHY”

“'Cause you stole?? From the gods??? We were sent to retrieve you???”

Ace makes grumpy mumbling sounds but is like “yeah fine I’ll come w/ you bc I want an explanation, but I still want to share fire with people so we’re taking the long way.” / “Ugh fine.”

And like, marco and sabo are immortal, so it doesn’t really matter to them if they take the long way, and they found him and fire and well if he dies then that’ll be an even easier way to get fire back home?? And there’s other entrances to the gods’ domain in different places, so they just decide to head for one of those, and pick their way across the world.

And they’re first pretty snarky with each other, (especially after Ace finds out that they’re minor deities, he laughs at them once he discovers what for,) and they battle a couple of monsters together, and Ace spends late nights alone, fascinated by the twirl of fire around his fingertips, and the jar where he was keeping Fire gets smaller and smaller bc it’s bonding to him, but none of them realise until later, once they’ve started to become better friends and trust each other and have a routine;

And then marco notices and accuses ace of tricking them and Everyone is pissy and Mar/Sab are like, no we’re heading home now, before you use any more of Fire, how are we supposed to ??? Explain this???

(An alternate take to this scene was them realising that Ace was becoming a god/that fire was always meant to belong to humanity and being like “oh okay, better protect you, but how do we avoid-” *disappointed 2nd tier god shows up* “guys seriously you had like one job”.)

Anyway Ace is kind of their prisoner now and keeps trying to tell them that he didn’t steal the fire (well, apart from his initial stealing), that he was planning to fulfil their deal and he wouldn’t have broken it and Sabo’s like why should we believe a thief?? and Ace is like you believed me before!

Or, like!!!!!!!!!!! Oh maaaaaaaan Marco/Sabo manipulating Ace to go to the nearest domain entry, 'cause they’re not powerful gods and can pretend to be human and travelling together and Ace trusting them and confiding in them and Marco and Sabo confiding bits and pieces of their lives in him too and slowly starting to reveal that they are gods and being happy and slowly realising Ace is turning into a god but then

WHOOPS TOO LATE THEY’RE AT OLYMPUS AND EVERYONE’S LIKE WOAH CONGRATS YOU MANAGED TO CATCH THE HUMAN and Ace is like wait what

Marco and Sabo are like no, no, no, wait, there’s actually been a mistake-??? But Ace is super fucking pissy and No-One is Listening, (and actually I like this one better so this is basically what happens).

SO ACE IS A PRISONER AND MARCO/SABO COME VISIT HIM AND HE REFUSES TO TALK TO THEM AND THEY’RE LIKE NO, LEGIT, PLEASE LISTEN TO US??? And Ace just scoffs and is like why. You lied to me, and you tricked me, and I thought you believed me about the visions and you didn’t tell me there was no fire god???

We think you’re the fire god

And Ace just laugh/scoffs at them because seriously, out of EVERYTHING THEY’VE SAID??? This is the most ridiculous. And they ask him to fight back, or escape, and he’s like, “The punishment for disobeying the Gods is death - both here and on Earth. And besides, what am I supposed to do, try and live my life hiding from beings that are literally omnipotent???? idk about you but I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

And so Marco & Sabo go and try to talk to the 1st teir gods, but have to go through 2nd tiers, and they meet Blackbeard, who worked his way into being part of the council representing Sea atm, and they’re like look we think he’s actually a new god??? And Blackbeard is like oh no, rlly?? my goodness gracious. But gods aren’t formed from humans, tho, and sidetracks them and confuses them and delays them and then they hear the announcement for Ace’s trial/execution and Blackbeard says they’re not allowed in bc they’re only minor gods, and Marco & Sabo are like yeah but we were the ones who bought him in??? Shouldn’t we be called to testify??

“We already know how this trial will go.”

“Well that defeats the purpose of a trial!” Sabo snaps, but Marco tugs him away and they sneak in instead and Ace is kneeling down and glaring at the gods and the almost-empty jar that used to hold Fire is on a pedestal to his left, but Marco and Sabo are Really Fucking Afraid 'cause they know Ace is afraid?? And they’re like jfc how well do we…..know him?

And Ace catches them looking and the fire starts to slowly wink out, just, dying, as he lowers his head and accepts his fate and refuses to look at them, and they’re like no no no no no it can’t happen like this, he is the fire god-

And Sabo leans forwards and just, please, he thinks, he prays, and Ace jolts and looks up at him and his eyes are so wide and startled and Sabo jumps too but then-

Ace can hear his prayers.

“Please!” he thinks, desperate and angry and hopeless, and Marco frowns and steps up beside him and puts his hand on Sabo’s shoulder and he just mumbles, “He can hear my prayers,” and Marco goes stiff next to him, hand tight around his shoulder, and then both of them can hear-

“Please. Save me.”

WELP HERE COMES THE NOT-YET-BOYFRIENDS SQUAD ///sniggers. They totally just jump in front of Ace and Marco stalks forwards and is like, “You can’t have him!”

“Uh….why…not?”

“He swore his fealty to us. Therefore, as 2nd tier gods, it’s our job to decide his punishment - if he even deserves a punishment.”

“You’re only 3rd tier gods!!!” blackbeard yells, and Sabo grins and the last of the fire winks out and Ace’s skin glows warm and bright.

“No. 'Cause Ace is a god.”

“You’re minor gods,” someone points out, “your domains are useless!”

“Forgotten memories and Faith?” Marco says, “Ace had faith in us, and the Fire forced him to forget who he was supposed to be; We were powerful enough to hide a new god.”

“when the heck did he swear fealty??????” someone else yells, and Marco folds his arms while Sabo makes the chains around Ace’s arms a forgotten memory, helping Ace stand up, “He asked us to save him. That’s fealty enough.”

“And what did he give you in return?” someone sneers, and the crowd is pressing in on them, but Ace steps forwards and there’s fire on his shoulders and in his eyes.

“My life.”

anyway they go and upend the structure of the gods omfg and ace experiments with his powers and visits his parents and tells them what went down and rouge is like ROGER, SERIOUSLY. and thwacks him on the arm bc ofc her son’s now a god jfc, and there’s!!!

Marco and Sabo are adjusting to their new roles and trying to figure out what the fuck they’re meant to be doing and they’re still kinda 3rd tier and still kinda 2nd and basically mar/ace/bo form their own little….god squad? (SNIGGERS) And their affiliations change slightly and shift to match each other and there’s quiet moments where they figure out what to do and one day sabo’s like you don’t- you know, you’re immortal. Swearing your life to us- You can have it back, if you wanted-

“I don't,” ace says, and they get it , they get the infliction of the word and what he means and so that’s the end of that.

#opfanfic #maracebo #marcoacesabo #marcosaboace #aussie's anons #ask aussie #kisses #it’s not drabbles but i couldn’t think of a scene for you nonnie i’m sorry!!#if you wanted to send in smth else even tho my reqs are closed that’s cool??? by me????#bcccc this isn't rlly ...a proper writing thing i guess ///soft weeping

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a-panda-reads-act-omega · 7 years

Text

ACT OMEGA PART 26

THE 04/14/17 UPDATE

OH BOY HOW DO I WORK THIS DOODAD AGAIN BOY HOWDY I SURE FORGOT ABOUT TUMBLR FOR THE LONGEST FUCKING TIME

Whatever Alright so, I really don’t care enough to try and remind myself of what was going on during the last update so I’m just gonna get started on this one and hope for the best.

Alright so I kinda remember. Aranea just explained a ton of stuffs.

And Vriska isn’t pleased by it.

VRISKA: W8. VRISKA: So... what are you saying exactly? ARANEA: I thought I was fairly clear, 8ut I understand if this inform8tion is too jarring for you to a8sor8. ARANEA: It means that if nothing is done, everything that we know will cease to 8e. VRISKA: ... Everything. Really. ARANEA: Yes, Vriska. Everything. Every ghost. Every horrorterror. Every dream 8u88le, session, and universe. ARANEA: It will all eventually fall into The Pocket and 8e lost. ARANEA: Of course, this ensures that there is no point in time or space to which Lord English can escape. ARANEA: 8ut then again, the same goes for us.

Oh. Well shit. Apparently I was right.

They better get the fuck to work.

VRISKA: ........ ARANEA: If it is any consol8tion, from the perspective of any universes currently nestled inside of Skaia, this is 8usiness as usual. All universe die, and from the moment of the Vast Croak, they contain every instance of that universe and all of their histories at once. The residents of any given iter8tion have no real way of perceiving anything that occurs in this 8roader scope. They are free to live their mortal lives as they would have otherwise. ARANEA: As they say, ignorance is 8liss--a 8lessing that those of us among the dead cannot afford. 8ut the consequences of what we manage to accomplish will reach 8eyond such individual concerns and matter a gr8 deal to the masses yet to even 8e 8orn.

So, as I said.

They better get the fuck to work.

How do you even stop a black hole though? I mean, there’s like real world theories and shit but fuck real world. I already have sort of a theory. If they use The Tumor. Or, a tumor. I forget if that was a beta kids exclusive though, so really who knows if that’s even possible. But supposedly, the tumor has the capability to destroy the sun, so maybe if they could get some other tumor it could destroy the hole.

Why is everybody bein so J U Dgy. Fuck, just LOOK at Kankri back there. So hateful.

ARANEA: I did everything I could to prevent The Pocket from forming. ARANEA: In fact, I spent considera8le time and effort seeking out the Lost Cheru8 for myself. I planned to attempt reasoning with her, to convince her there must 8e some other way. 8ut she was far too elusive, and no doubt too dedic8ed to her cause to have listened if I HAD found her. ARANEA: So in the end, I failed, just as you did. I’m not too proud to admit that.

Well yeah, there was nothing you could ever do to prevent the worst thing possible from happening, that’s sort of a running theme in homestuck. You just kinda gotta. Find a loophole around the consequences.

Pf i forgot about double eyepatch sollux

Also, Wow Feferi sure is sad

ARADIA: i dont know about calling it a failure ARADIA: its just like you said isnt it? ARADIA: this was always bound to happen ARADIA: as i see it this is simply the story reaching its natural conclusion ARADIA: honestly im kind of excited! ARADIA: i had a hunch that this is how everything would end ARADIA: though the added context definitely makes it a lot more interesting

Goddammit Aradia pls take this seriously

FEFERI: So T)(IS is w)(at the )(orrorterrors meant. 38( FEFERI: T)(ey )(ave been w)(ispering about T)(-E -END for quite a w)(ale now. FEFERI: I t)(oug)(t t)(ey must )(ave been talking about Lord -Englis)( ripping t)(em and t)(eir bubbles apart! FEFERI: But t)(is makes muc)( more sense. FEFERI: It’s so )(ard to )(ear t)(eir sad little glubs now! FEFERI: Soon I t)(ink t)(ey will go quiet for good. 38(((

Oh. Well. I guess that’s bad. Yeah, the horror terrors dying is definitely a bad thing. God every time I take a break from liveblogging I lose so much context.

ARADIA: really? then whatever they have to say right now must be important! FEFERI: RIG)(T?! FEFERI: I am trying to listen carefully, but I must be )(earing t)(em wrong! FEFERI: T)(ere was SOM-ET)(ING about... a door?

Well you have a house. Maybe a door’s gonna pop up soon.

SOLLUX: man i’m glad i’m n0t the 0ne hearing v0ices, for 0nce.

I really just love the sassy stance Meenah’s got over there.

ARANEA: Are you sure that’s what they said? ARANEA: A door? FEFERI: Um well it sure did SOUND like t)(at, but t)(at doesn’t make any sense! Does it? ARANEA: What else did they have to say a8out this door? FEFERI: Glub! Not)(ing I can make out yet, sorry! FEFERI: Just... T)(-E DOOR.

Well. HUHM. I dunno, they’re building this up quite a bunch, so I doubt it’s just gonna pop up and they’re gonna walk through it.

OOH! MAybe they can like, seal the black hole in the house Or something

I don’t know

FEFERI: I can keep listening if it’s important. ARANEA: Yes, please do. It is vitally important. ARANEA: That door is likely our 8est 8et at circumventing our current plight! MEENAH: wait MEENAH: a door MEENAH: they couldnt b talkin about the door that showed up on the weaprawn i mean weapon

I mean that seemed obvious to me

MEENAH: right? ARANEA: Actually, I 8elieve that is exactly what they are talking a8out. MEENAH: how the fuck would a DOOR save our asses exactly ARANEA: It’s not a8out the door. It’s a8out what’s 8EHIND the door. ARANEA: If I am right a8out the nature of the juju, then that door could very well lead to another realm entirely, one completely 8eyond the reach of the ever-expanding Pocket. ARANEA: It is the key to everything--the only logical next step to t8ke! ARANEA: Everything is slotting into pl8ce!

Oh boy. Well this should be interesting. I don’t exactly know how that’s gonna stop the pocket but hey we’ll see.

MEENAH: uh... MEENAH: youre losin me serks ARANEA: THINK, Meenah. The story isn’t over yet! ARANEA: The Lost Cheru8 has done her part. We have done ours in activ8ing the weapon. ARANEA: 8ut what of the warriors? The challengers Lord English trapped inside his juju? Where do they come in? MEENAH: uh?? ARANEA: They are through that door! Them and the higher plane they have 8een trapped within for eons! ARANEA: The warriors could 8e w8ing for us to find and free them so they might do their work in repairing the damage the Lost Cheru8 has done. ARANEA: After residing in what could well 8e a macrocosm of infin8 power, surely they have the means to accomplish anything! ARANEA: What could WE accomplish 8y going there ourselves? MEENAH: uhh??? ARANEA: If nothing else, the juju is the only way we can escape the destruction of reality itself! ARANEA: It is the only path to take that leads somewhere ELSE! MEENAH: arane--

It’s probably true. Probably. I dunno. I mean, I’m really curious to just see what’s behind this door already.

oh fuck

What did le do

MEENAH: what the anglin fuck?! ARANEA: It’s already 8egun. ARANEA: Lord English is as aware as I am of the juju’s potential. 8ut it seems his 8est course of action is to aimlessly attack it. Perhaps a 8yproduct of how unsta8le he has 8ecome.

Daddy Caliborn just needs to take a moment to chill. Enjoy a lil ice cream break maybe.

ARANEA: Instead of fleeing The Pocket, he will stu88ornly try to evade his f8 even while facing certain destruction. And 8arring that, he will do whatever it takes to take doom us all with him. ARANEA: He will not rest until the juju is destroyed. May8e he could even 8e attempting to enter it himself! Either way, we CANNOT allow him to take away our last hope!

So what’s the game plan? How do they plan on getting through there with Lord English goin all fuckin berzerk on this poor house.

MEENAH: ... MEENAH: yeah MEENAH: sure

Have some faith, Meenah.

O h thats a face.

ARANEA: “Sure”? ARANEA: You sound anything 8ut. ARANEA: Don’t you agree with me?

Call me crazy but I don’t think she does.

MEENAH: i mean yeah i guess MEENAH: all this stuff youve been spouting sounds legit MEENAH: maybe ARANEA: May8e. ARANEA: So, you don’t trust me. Is that it? MEENAH: i dunno! MEENAH: i wanna believe you MEENAH: but somefin just smells fishy MEENAH: mostly cause youre gettin kinda MEENAH: weird

To be fair, she’s always acting weird. I think the most worrying part about her behavior is how excited she is to pull this plan off. I don’t really think she’s gonna try to pull off another suicide plan. Worst case scenario, she tries to steal the glory from Vriska.

ARANEA: Weird? ARANEA: Reality is on the verge of collapse, 8ut I’M 8eing WEIRD? ARANEA: Don’t you realize what’s at st8ke?! MEENAH: Y-EA)( i do MEENAH: im just thinkin maybe we otter clear our heads before we bellyflop into anyfin ok geez MEENAH: wait for angelfish over there to synergize with the horrorglubbers or whatever ARANEA: Do you think we have time for that? At any moment, we could 8e erased forever! ARANEA: Don’t you CARE a8out DYING, Meenah?! MEENAH: i...

Nope. She doesn’t. She’s made this clear in the past (Look who’s been doing their Homestuck rereading. It’s me.)

ARANEA: You used to be so dedic8d to staying alive that you were willing to 8low us all up as a last resort! ARANEA: I know that we are all technically living on 8orrowed time. I am AWARE that every moment we’ve spent with our consciousnesses intact was a gift none of us really deserved. ARANEA: 8ut I’m not DONE YET!! ARANEA: I want to continue to exist! Don’t you?! ARANEA: I’ve 8een here for so long, trying to make the 8est of our situation, reaching new heights in skill and understanding, and yet I still...! MEENAH: 38(

Sorry Aranea, but I’m pretty sure Meenah has stopped giving a shit a while ago. Spending a zillion years alive/dead in the dream bubbles would do that to you.

ARANEA: Don’t you want to MATTER, Meenah? Don’t you want all of this to have meant something?! ARANEA: The fact that we were here, that we existed! If everything that ever was and ever will 8e is just going to disappear, then none of it will have ever meant ANYTHING! ARANEA: So please, just trust me! ARANEA: What scheme could I possi8ly have up my sleeve that would 8e worse than the alternative? What more could any of us have to lose?! ARANEA: All you have to do is listen

Yeah- Aranea you’re desperate ramblings aren’t helping to make you seem more trustworthy. You kinda need to CHILL a bit.

Oh my god. Sad mopey Meenah might be one of the best things I’ve ever seen? I wanna feel bAD because I SHOULD feel bad but it’s just too fuNny to look at for some reason.

MEENAH: ... fine MEENAH: whats ur big plan

And she gives in. All sad about it too. Good job Aranea, you made someone who don’t give a shit about nothing sad. S m h.

Goddammit Aranea she finally gives you the chance to explain your plan and you instantly go back to appearing more dramatic than you’ve earned the right to be.

ARANEA: We need to find a way past Lord English. While it might 8e within our a8ilities to defeat him as he is now, it feels to me like too much of a gam8le when so much rides on our success. We can simply lure him away with a proper distraction and deal with him l8er.

Well he’s not known for his brains so that should be easier than it sounds.

ARANEA: Really, the most sensi8le course of action is for me to call 8ack the remainder of the army. ARANEA: Perhaps it would even 8e 8est if I took control of the entire oper8tion? Surely you agree we don’t have time for any more petty squa88les. So long as I have control of the majority of our attack force, it would simply 8e more efficient for me to 8e calling the shots. Time is of the essence, after all.

Fuck yoooouuuu. But Yeah. It probably would be smart if You did that. Ahem.

WElp thats the end of this fucking liveblog what a goddamn miracle its finALLY RELEASED NOW PRAISE ME LIKE THE MESSIAH WHOSE RETURN HAD BEEN FORETOLD IN LEGENDS DATING BACK TO BEFORE MAN

bye

#hs act omega #Act Omega #act omega liveblog #hs act omega liveblog #homestuck #homestuck liveblog

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