#(if anyone wants to filter my weird science rambling)

[talesfromtheenchantedforest]

lipids: a review

saturated lipids. straight. rigid. obviously problematic. they have their place, of course, like drywall. basic bitches, the salt of the earth, a necessary evil

polyunsaturated lipids. a marked improvement. cis double bonds, and therefore kinky. extremely kinky. provide fluidity to their local microenvironments, essential for transition into the more fun hexagonal and cubic membrane phases

sphingolipids (and plasmologen honorable mention). now we’re talking. a trans double bond, which I think we can all agree is fun. tight packing, aggregation into self-ordered domains when the saturated and cis lipids all around them get to be too much, extensive hydrogen bonding to provide close T4T ride-or-die intermolecular interactions

Sphingadienine. a trans double bond AND a cis double bond. the chosen one. an enigma, an iconoclast. 20% of plasma sphingolipids, no fucking idea what it does, enzyme that makes it discovered in 2020, kinky and trans and unknowable

anyway they just gave me a phd in this shit so you can trust me I’m a doctor

[ian-the-existential-crisis]

Ian ian look at me you want prompts and I want soft caustic content we can do something here

It's five AM but I have a new favorite Caustic ship. Also, I think I might be incapable of writing dad Caustic.

Sure, Natalie and Octavio knew better than to play in Dr. Nox's office, but everything was fair game when it came to hide and seek. Besides, Ajay was hiding with the older children because she didn't want to be found right away, so that left the two of them to their own devices.

"It's so stoopid that she just left us." Octavio whined. "She's supposed to be my best friend, she should play with us and not Elliott or Nita!"

"Shhh!" Natalie shoved her petite hand against his mouth. "Renee is special, remember, she has those powers that let her hear! You have to be quiet."

Her childish trill was just as loud as his whining, but Octavio didn't say anything. Natalie was the youngest child that lived in the group home, at the tender age of five, she was the youngest by two years. So she often clung to Octavio and Ajay.

She took her hand away, seconds before he went to lick it. It would have taught her a lesson. She pushed on the thick wooden door to Dr. Nox's office.

"This seems like a bad idea." Octavio mumbled. I'm reality it was a great hiding spot. Dr. Nox was mean and fierce. Nobody would dare look in his office for them.

"What, exactly, is a bad idea?" They heard from behind.

The seven year old yelped while Natalie squealed with glee. "Papa Nox!"

Octavio blinked in surprise at her. She hadn't been living here that long, but she was already close with the scariest person. Most of the other children would run up and hug Mr. Gibraltar the same way Natalie latched herself onto Nox's leg.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in his rough, scary, voice.

Octavio eyed the small blonde, letting her take the lead.

"We are playing hide and seek, but Renee is it and she uses her voices to find us. And it's not fair, cause all I have are my sparks so I need a good hiding spot and Ajay went with Elliott and Anita. But Octavio came with me but we are going to be found, so could you let us hide with you? We promise not to be loud while you do papers. You won't even notice us." She rambled impressively fast.

He let out a sigh. "Come on then."

He pushed the door open further and Octavio wanted to gasp. It was a normal room. There were a few bookshelves, filled with big, well kept books, and a mahogany desk in front of the windows of the back wall, with a small stack of papers and a framed photo. It wasn't some crazy science lair. No doom and gloom aura like everyone guessed.

Natalie grabbed Octavio's hand as she rushed in, dragging him along.  

"It's so weird." He finally breathed out. This man had always scared him. But now, with him making his way over to the chair, he didn't seem so scary at all. In fact, the room was lonely. Mr. Gibby (as he told the kids to call him) had toys and books littering his room. There were framed photos everywhere but this room only had one neatly placed on the well organized desk.

He couldn't help but wonder who could possibly have made their way onto the scariest man alive's desk. Thankfully, Nathalie saw it too,and she had absolutely no filter.

"Who is she?" She climbed up on his lap the second he sat down. So much for Not noticing them.

He gave a harsh chuckle. His green eyes fell on Octavio, waving him over. "Come on, story time."

The seven year old zipped over to him. Like Renee he was special. He didn't have her voices, but he did have speed. His legs never failed him. Dr. Nox picked him up, setting him gently on his knee, so he could also see the framed picture.  

She was honestly stunning. Her wild brown hair framed most of her body and her mocha eyes looked lovingly at whoever was lucky enough to be behind the camera. That was the look Octavio remembered his dad giving his second wife before he left him behind to go on their honeymoon.

"You know," He started in that gruff voice. "We made this school for children like you. Ones who were gifted."

They both nodded. This place was safe for them. Where they could grow up in peace and not worry about being hurt, not worry about hurting anyone.

"This is the founder of the Wolf Institute."

"She's so beautiful." Natalie smiled. "Are you friends?"

"Of course. The best of friends." Nox smiled at them, no, he was smiling at the photo, Octavio could tell.

"Then where is she?"

"You know, I wish I knew. She was like you kids. Special and gifted. And one day I was here and she wasn't."

"Do you know when she'll return?" Octavio finally found his voice.

"No. But I'll wait here for her to return."

"How do you know she'll come back?" Natalie tilted her head.

"I just know. She just needs to find the right time and she'll return to m- us again. And the wait will be worth it."

[avenger-hawk]

One day we won’t be able to say “I prefer chocolate cake over strawberry cake” because that would mean we are discriminating against strawberry cakes according to the internet police. Sigh

Anon, this is so real it hurts. I can already imagine antis be like ‘chocolate is problematic and unhealthy’ and ‘strawberry is the one true cake’ lol

(fun fact: I prefer strawberry over chocolate xD)

For real tho, the internet police is really getting out of hand. When I first discovered fanfictions (for Gensoumaden Saiyuki, Weiss Kreuz and Bleach mostly) there were all kinds of stories, themes, pairings, no matter how weird or dark. Same for N*ruto, when I got into it and started reading fics since I had a lot to catch up I started with the older, pre-shippuuden ones and there was all sort of stuff, which was cool. Same for older shippuuden ones when I got to it. When I discovered tumblr there was a lot more freedom as well, although not like on pixiv where artists really do whatever they want and they don’t get in trouble…but that’s for Asian artists mostly, who are way more respectful and less argumentative then the Western fandom. 

Not to mention tumblr has a lot of American users and hey I don’t want to be always that person and I know generalizing is wrong but most of the internet police I experienced is either from there or from Northern Europe, which makes me think this egotistic and moralizing attitude is a cultural thing coming from their Protestant/Puritan common roots, not to mention they’re used to have everything quickly and perfectly served on their plate otherwise they’re gonna complain and be listened to, while everyone else comes from a less quick/privileged/well-functioning society so they are used to ‘make do’ and/or to put things in perspective cause otherwise they’re gonna get crazy. Not to mention, again, that if a population has other real and more urgent problems they’re not gonna give a damn about fiction, and if a country with problems is culturally attacking fiction it’s a censorship attempt, and also an attempt to divert people’s attention from the real problems to something irrelevant like fiction. Wake up dudes. Read Chomsky.

(my culture is a more live and let live kind of but it also makes people extremely mistrustful of authorities and at the same time it makes people try and take advantage of them and values knowing the right people and this sort of shit cause corruption and favors are everywhere. Just to show you I’m not just antiAmerican culture lol)

Another thing is cultural, but in a different way: humanities, literature, philosophy, arts, even social sciences and anthropology, are not the most popular subjects of study in most countries, cause most jobs require technical or scientific studies. Those subjects are useful and all but through them students develop a more compartmentalized mentality that is kinda black and white, right or wrong, problem and solution. It’s not weird that if this is the most popular mentality people are quickly judging everything as wrong if it doesn’t align with their opinion/perspective/knowledge. Humanities, arts and so on, instead, are broader and there is no wrong or right in them, only different movements/ schools/ points of view varying with time and context. This helps students develop a different approach that considers more perspectives and puts things in a greater context.

Not to mentions arts and humanities are full of ‘problematic’ stuff that are studied without judgment and no one ever thought about passing judgement because 1-it’s fiction 2- ‘problematic’ stuff exists in fiction for a lot of reasons and it’s interesting to study them 3-without it the stories would be boring, just like the crap the internet police writes, I guess 4- exploringcontroversial things through fiction is actually healthy and has always been done since forever cause it’s a way to explore the depth of human heart and its darkness without actually harming anyone 5- it’s cathartic

I digressed, sorry. Your ask made me laugh but then I started rambling, in short the internet police is made of spoiled kids who don’t get that taste is subjective, that if they don’t like something it’s easier to filter it out/avoid it instead of starting moralizing campaigns, who think they’re doing some useful job moralizing over fiction on the internet instead of going out and doing activism for the real causes. Ugh I could have just written that I hate the internet police but this way it sounds like I have logical reasons to hate them lol

[exeart]

Overwatch: (Yan?)Moira x Reader Pt 2

Hooo boy. A few of you have asked me to write another Moira x Reader, and i’m more than willing! I just merged all 3 requests in one, hope it is to your liking, and thank you for your requests! It’s a little long so I put ‘Keep reading’.

 In future, don’t be afraid to go off anon, so I may be able to notify you when I publish your request. And specify if you want NSFW because I can try to write such things!

-Exe

Moira stared at the empty desk. It used to be filled with your research materials and doodles, even a small picture of herself that used to be tucked away in the corner in attempts to prevent her from seeing it. It was all gone. It had vanished a month ago when you told her you were going to another department in Talon.

Moira pursed her lips, and groaned in frustration. She didn’t like how she was feeling. She felt angry, disgruntled, but most importantly… Lonely.

She hated it. Why did she feel this way? Of course, she knew, why was she even asking herself? Moira grew to like your presence. You were there to her beck and call, and you loved her work. Not many people could understand her passion for her work, and for you to suddenly leave… Moira took in a deep breath, placing her manicured hand on the chair you used to sit in. She gripped it hard till her nails tore through the faux leather. She was far beyond upset at you requesting to leave out of nowhere.

After that little ‘kidnapping session’ you two had, where you strapped her up and planned to do something, Moira ensured that she got your approval before doing anything to your body. Since your main concern before was having approval before anything, Moira ensured everything was done after you gave your permission.

For a while, everything was good again. You’d make coffee for her every morning, filtering her chemicals and equipment. Sometimes if Moira finished her end goal of the day, she would take you out to dinner to show her gratitude for your hard work. Even she found it amusing whenever you agreed shyly and failed to cover up your reddened face.

So why did you leave anyway?

It is true that Moira could find someone else, that’s easy. But there was something… different, about you in particular. You had the same ‘morbid’ curiosity she had to some degree (you still let your morals get in the way sometimes, much to Moira’s dismay), willing to try most things others wouldn’t, if they followed regulations. Moira accepted those terms after you quietly told her your conditions.

She regretted that it took your absence for her to notice your specialty entirely.

“… Absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it…?” Moira whispered under her breath. She never related to that saying before, but now it was literally the only thing she could feel. Even her work couldn’t push away this feeling she had growing in her chest. It pulsed, a mild pain that hasn’t left ever since you were gone.

She had to go find you.

Releasing her grip from the chair, Moira spun on her heel and exited her office, walking past other Talon scientists who waved or said hi to her. She didn’t have time to stop for idle chat. She had a task to complete: finding you.

And she was going make sure you went back.

You gasped as you caught your breath, relieved that you didn’t spill the concoction you just made. You had to rush back to your office before lunch break was over. Your new head geneticist didn’t like late comers, and you were already late twice. Like the saying goes, ‘third time’s the charm’, only this will ensure some sort of punishment from your superiors.

You adjusted your hair tie and coat, regaining your composure as you pressed the button, the door sliding open with a ‘boop’! As you walked past the cubicles in the office, you noticed something off. No one was around. None of your colleagues were. You stopped in your tracks.

‘Where is everyone?’ you thought, anxiety slowly manifesting in you. This was strange. Sure, technically it was just the end of lunch break, but even then, some would already be back. Some didn’t even go for lunch break half the time, so why was there no one inside the office? The screens were still up for most of the computers, equipment was still on standby, so where did everyone go?

You decided to put your stuff down back in your own cubicle before dialling for your colleagues. As you approached, you saw someone sitting in your seat. Who would be on your s-

You stared wide eyed as the figure spun on your seat, her hands put together, and she gave you the coldest stare you’ve ever felt. “… Moira…?”

She didn’t speak, silently taking out a small remote controller from her pocket and pressing the button. The only exit you had, the large sliding door, slammed shut. You jumped. “M-Moira?” You asked again.

“… Hello, dear,” she said, false joy obvious. Moira stood up, walking over to you, taking your flask and files, placing them gently on your table. She observed that you kept your gloves on. Yep, your secret of going under her experimentation was still a secret. “How have you been?”

You had no idea why Moira was here. Something wasn’t right. Obviously, since she shut that door. But you wanted to be… polite. “Good. And… you?”

“Good as well.”  Moira’s accent was coming out. That only happened when she was feeling extreme emotion, be it happiness or the latter, anger. She turned around and frowned, her voice dripping with malice. “Until my most trusted assistant bailed on me.” Her duel coloured eyes pierced your soul, and you felt a chill run down your spine. Yep, she was not feeling happiness.

You instantly looked away, clenching your palms nervously. “… I didn’t bail…” “Yes, you did, and you are well aware of it.” Moira’s harsh voice caused you to flinch. She folder her arms, and leaned back against your desk.

“We were in the middle of such an important discovery, yet you decided to transfer… here, out of the blue, and for what? To do these… useless quaint tasks,” she looked down and raised her hand simply to dismiss your current research notes. When you did not respond, she continued, “my work was progressing faster than ever with your help. If it finished, we could share it with the world! Why did you leave? I thought we had already resolved our little squabble back then. What changed?”

“… I just… wanted to take a break,” you said eventually. “I know how much your research means to you, and I didn’t want to slow you down… It’s nothing personal this time, really!” You said the last part quickly, waving your hands to further deny her obvious suspicions.

Moira wasn’t convinced just yet. You shook your head furiously. You couldn’t surprise her yete. “Really, Moira, I’m being honest!”

It looked like you weren’t going to relent. Moira sighed. “Okay… and how are you here? Obviously, their work is not as good as how you and I did… pathetic.” She picked up one of your current notes and just scoffed at it. That’s when you furrowed your eyebrows.

“That’s not true! I’m working on a new serum that will restore cells quicker than what normal humans are capable of now an-!” You covered your mouth. You watched in horror as Moira froze, and she flipped through the files she was currently holding.

“… You’re extending your current research… based off MY work?”

Shit. You were in real trouble now.

“Moira, I-“ You tried to explain that you had not shared this with anyone yet. In truth, you did base your current research based off Moira’s research. You took notes whenever you and she had dinner together and when she rambled on about certain hypothesis’ she had and what possibilities could be achieved if they were true. You wanted to make sure you could do something on your own, but with inspiration from her, and so, you left. Moira could easily observe you and correct you if you stayed in her branch. You wanted to leave just temporarily. After all, staying separated from your loved one hurt.

But with the situation now, you knew how shady you seemed, and it was clear Moira wasn’t going to listen to your explanation now. Her glare was so cold. Usually she just stared at people in disdain, but there was evident anger in her eyes and her voice. “… How dare you. So you wish to glorify yourself based off my hard work? That’s called stealing.”

“Moira, I’m not stealing your work, I-!” Moira got up and threw your files onto the floor. You shut up when you heard her laugh under her breath.

“… And to think I actually missed you, hmm? How… peculiar that this happened.” Moira smiled grimly, maintaining her glare. “I was going to call you back because I wanted you back by my side, working with me… But now I see what it really is… You act very well, my dear. I’m impressed.”

In some weird way, Moira found it… almost flattering that you stole her work. Many people told her she was intelligent, but they were too scared to pursue or copy her methods for they were far too ‘immoral’. To think her admirer had the guts to plagiarise her work really showed her how far you were willing to go to be like her.

She, eventually, even liked you enough to perform the same procedure she went through on you. It really showed how much she wanted to say thank you for helping her in uncovering all the secrets science still kept locked away by morality. Sure, it caused a small dispute between you two, but that was done with. Now, everything that happened between you two, everything you did for her, seemed nothing like an act for you to get a hold of her research and claim it as your own.

Maybe you didn’t mean it in the way she was thinking. You were too meek to stoop so low. She was well aware of this, but in the moment, Moira was overwhelmed with emotion. A rare occurrence, but it took someone she liked a lot for that to happen.

That however, did not mean she would spare you for leaving her regardless.

“Moira-“ You had to calm her down, but Moira abruptly got up and before you knew it, a needle had been stabbed into your arm. You screamed, and tore away from her, but the weird liquid already coursed through your veins.

In less than a second, you felt your vision become blurry, your legs becoming jelly. You clutched onto your head, groaning. “M-Moira… no… It’s… not what… y-you think…” You swayed back and forth, eventually feeling yourself leaning against the taller woman’s frame. Moira gripped onto you tightly, almost in a possessive way. “Perhaps not,” she said softly. ”But I’m still upset you left me like that.” As you descended deeper into slumber, you could feel her stroke your head gently, almost as if she was stroking one of her lab rabbits.

“It’s time for you to be punished.”

You woke up, groaning a little. You found it difficult to open your eyes for a bright light was looming over you, and you could only manage a squint. You breathed a sigh of relief when the light was pushed away. But that relief did not last.

You tensed up when you realised you were in a familiar place – you were strapped on to a chair, a menacing light looming over you, and the cold steel floor that chilled your bare toes to the bone. Your gloves had been taped up to your arms, preventing you from doing whatever you could do with them. (Healing and sucking out cells). This was Moira’s experimental office.

“I am glad to see you awake, dear,” your head shot up and you stopped tugging against your restraints as you heard a silky and mature voice speak up. You turned to the direction it came from, and you saw Moira coming in with all her tubes and equipment. She had a big smile on her face.

Oh no.

“M… Moira… please… forgive me… It was never my intention to steal your w-“ You stopped talking when she lifted your chin, running her thumb over your chapped lips. You shivered when she leaned in, pressing her lips just right next to your lips.

“Sssh… I’m not going to hurt you that badly,” she chuckled. She smiled even more when she heard you gasp.

Why was she doing this? Moira had no idea. Perhaps it was because you stole her work? No, she already read through your notes while you were asleep. You wanted to surprise her with work inspired by hers, how sweet. Then perhaps the concept of being fond of someone was new, and she didn’t know how to show that she would not tolerate the ones she liked leaving. She needed you to know that it is not easy to catch her attention, and that you need to stay.

“It’s to make sure you know… I don’t tolerate deserters.” Moira’s breath against your face caused you to tense up, and her cold slender hand ran down your cheek.

It was then you felt your energy being sapped away. Your eyes flew open and you jerked against your restraints. You screamed, but Moira held you down with her other hand. She watched as you struggled and writhed in pain, tears threatening to escape from your eyes, as she had made sure the rate she was destroying your cellular structure was much faster and painful compared to usual.

Your screams caused some joy in her, probably due to the fact Moira knew that this would be something you’d never forget, and would make you stay. It wasn’t often she’d meet someone like you, anyway.

“I’m sorry, but this is to make you remember…” She said, releasing her grip on you. You dropped like a rag doll, your groans indicating you were still awake, but barely. You felt like you had no energy whatsoever. You muscles felt like they were sucked out of your body, and you barely had energy to breathe.

This hurt. You didn’t want this. You knew how Moira’s experiments hurt before, but none were this sadistic. She was doing this intentionally.

You gasped out in relief as Moira then used her other hand you sprinkle you with her healing creation, your energy coming back to you. It was as if time was being reversed on you, and whatever pain you had just gone through was a dream. Pretty soon, you were revitalised, and you could move and speak normally again. You looked up at her adjusting her tubes. “Moira… please… I love- AH!”

As soon as you spoke, Moira’s eyes flashed with disdain, and she sapped away at your life force once more. You felt the tears escape from your eyes as the pain quickly came back, your screams filling the room. She released her grip on you once more, and you wept quietly. Moira held your head to make sure you were looking up at her. She was smiling, but you didn’t feel any sincerity from that. “I’m far from done, whatever I’m doing to you now.” You were in for a long session.

You whimpered, letting your tears flow. Moira gently wiped your tears away. “Be happy, my dear. I’m simply showing you that I finally realised how I feel for you.”

For once in your life, you felt true fear when she uttered those last words.

“I love you, too.”

[blindrapture]

After the break, the remainder of this post will be Andrew Hussie’s newspost from 11/08/14. In it, he goes pretty in-depth about the symbolism and intent of Homestuck’s GAME OVER flash. I wanted to share this because it’s one of the most concise examples I can think of that stresses why I still think he’s goddamn lovely. It also contains his own rather clear declaration that he prefers Death Of The Author over Word Of God (”Now, since they can no longer depend on answers which I supply between horse jokes and snappy retorts, they are lost in the woods to fend for themselves against the wolves of dubious fanalysis.“), a sentiment which echoes darkly through the fandom these days. You could argue he pretty much spends most of the newspost trying to explain how to read the ending to come. And plus I can say this is a #ThrowbackFrihorse thing, even though it’s nowhere near Friday.

Spoilers ahead, those of you who have not yet finished reading Homestuck.

Andrew: There comes a time in every young Homestuck's life when they must face the fact that a notable comic author has swindled them into getting on a bus labeled "cool updates", only to swerve said bus off the highway and into a precipitous gulch of unmitigated sadstuck. But the old wives tale says that sadstuck was just a thing that happened in our fanfics, the bus children wailed. That's what they said about the tricksters too, a veteran child in the back replied. They said the tricksters would never see the light of canon, but where are the doubters now? Where are they now. Propping up six feet of dirt is where. The veteran child is weirding everybody out, so they stop looking at him, and turn to the driver. But the driver is now a spooky skeleton and the kids lose their shit. The skeleton head does a creepy 180, and speaks his scary curse. Heed me bus youths, for I am the ghost of future sadstuck. I have traveled back in time and am on a bus for some reason I guess, to punish you for your maudlin fics. For every time you murmured sadstuck while having a feeling, for every fic you pastebinned by candlelight, my curse has grown stronger, and my legend, dumber. Then the skeleton ran out of stuff to say, and looking a little embarrassed, turned around again to keep driving. Then he screamed once he remembered the bus was falling. Thanks for listening to my short story. We like to have a good time here at MS Paint Adventures, The Website. The gigaplay is off to a rocky start of unhewn feels. If your kerchief has become too soggy with tears from emotion, skeleton terror, or just plain admiration for my skill as a short story writer (can't blame you there), and you wish to lighten the mood, I recommend moseying over to Paradox Space, which is currently running a 24 page comic I have written about Crowbar. I am alert to the desires of readers every single day, and the one thing I hear them clamor for above all else, is more stories about CROWBAR. We want more content about Crowbar, RIGHT NOW, they say, and make that content consist of 24 beautifully illustrated comic pages, MINIMUM. I just give the people what they want. Fortunately, Homestuck's Premier Felt Fan #1 Jones was available to do a spectacular job of illustrating this comic. My rambling noir-style monologues have never before overlapped such lovely artwork. GOD TIER TALK! I don't answer Q's about Homestuck much anymore. It was a practice which I think used to be some people's lifeline for decoding the enigmatic runes of this story. Now, since they can no longer depend on answers which I supply between horse jokes and snappy retorts, they are lost in the woods to fend for themselves against the wolves of dubious fanalysis. Pulling the ripcord on the Homestuck machine again, combined with recent story events, makes me think something FAQQY may be in order. The thing is, when you make a big story, and allude to rules for a complicated system dictating mortality, people tend to REALLY, REALLY want to understand how it works. Speculation naturally fills the vacuum in lieu of concrete data. Theories are crafted. Headcanons, congealed. Then, when additional data is presented (DEAD KIDS), which happen to chafe with fanon constructs, feelings run ragged, and Bullshit is called. Then Bullshit shows up, and says, you rang? And the fanonistas say, yes Bullshit. Look at this mess. LOOK at it. This in NO WAY jives with my views on what constitutes heroism and justice. Bullshit nods sagely while lighting its pipe. Earlier in HS when god tier folk were more scarce, the story was more cagey about these verdicts. The Vriska ruling was presented as a close call, which maybe could have gone either way. Then Slick smacked the clock to Just before it could settle, leaving the true verdict ambiguous, and the 'moral debate' intact, so to speak. But now that there are a lot of god tiers running around, with the stakes raised and the body count piling up, the game (or, story) is starting to be more liberal with its rulings. As in, more likely to come down hard on Just, Heroic, or Neither verdicts without intervention or obfuscation, helping us better understand the boundaries of heroic and just action through example. Not necessarily by moral definitions, but as dictated by the rules of a game. So that turns the story guy (sometimes known as an "author") into something like a ref at a basketball game. He blows the whistle when he sees the basketball guy (the "baller") take a half step without bouncing the ball. The home team crowd does not detect the subtle violation and goes boooooo! Those homers can boo all they want, but you know, the guy is really just some bozo with a whistle. The rules are the rules! There's reason to think there is a nuanced scale ranging from Heroic to Just inside the clock. There may be many shades of justice and heroism, some forms just barely qualifying to seal one's fate. But there's nothing nuanced about Alive vs. Dead. The result of a coin flip is absolute, even though there may be many subtle factors contributing to which side it lands on. Such as whether the coin is pure of heart, and whether the table it lands on has ever killed a man. You get a sense for the nuance of the judgment when it comes to these "close calls", like with Vriska, or more recently, with Jade. In her case, she was subject to mind control when she racked up her misdeeds, which ordinarily would probably exempt her. But it wasn't ordinary mind control. More like flipping an "evil switch", removing her ethical filter, thereby letting he personality come through, and giving her license to act on impulses which she'd ordinarily suppress. So this gives the clock something to work with. Still, her behavior is compromised, so it's by no means a slam dunk. (BASKET BALL! that is still the metaphor.) So it's very close, and perhaps the clock even spares her... except for Aranea, whose luck lets close calls break in her favor, and nudges that needle one hair to the Just side. Very unlikely that happens if it's not close already though. Jane's situation is basically the same, and so is her verdict. How about Jake? He's the only player who's had two rulings. The first time, he was blustering Ronald Reagan quotes at the top of his lungs when Jane forked him, which I think we may agree safely disqualifies him from heroism (though the Republican party may disagree). The second time was ruled Heroic, when he took a realmaginary ninja sword through the chest for a friend. This corresponds pretty closely with most people's definition of heroic, so I doubt anyone would consider this one controversial either. Dave? Probably not much to debate here either. Fighting while attempting to save a dead friend, to bring her back to Jane for resurrection. There's a moral element here, tied to common ideas of heroism, so there's not much in dispute. When factors stray somewhat from moral notions of heroism, that's when there is more fuel for debate. So what about Rose? Wasn't John killed by Jack under similar circumstances to how Rose died? So why did he survive, and Rose didn't? The circumstances were very similar, on the surface. But I would suggest that the similarity of the two situations, both leading to different outcomes, helps clarify the rules in play, not confuse them. The reason for this? SCIENCE. If you were a scientist in this fictional world, trying to test this fictional construct, these are the exact kinds of situations you would seek out to prove or disprove whatever hypothesis you had. Situations that are very similar, with most factors isolated, and varying only in minor and controlled ways. That's how you would start to understand where the line is between heroic and non-heroic conduct. So what varies between the situations? What line does Rose cross which John doesn't? It becomes pretty obvious if you break the two scenes down. John was standing there, poised for battle with Jack, for all of two seconds before Jack auto-stabbed him from behind. Not even to speak of the underhanded tactic by the villain, I think what's more important is John didn't even get a chance to move. Or specifically, to prove through action that he was prepared to do battle with a foe. In fact, hindsight may tell us he wasn't. He hadn't been through much then. But years later, when he reenacted that scene with Jack through a dream bubble, he was ready that time. He had years to think about that moment, to reflect on the damage caused by Jack, and what he might have done differently if he'd been more prepared, and if the battle wasn't cut short. But during the first encounter, there was no time for heroic intent to translate into action. Compare with Rose's situation. Her feelings are unambiguous. Her mind is made up, and committed to action in the form of forward motion. Sorry Rose, you took a few too many steps through the paint on your drive to the hoop. Gotta blow the whistle! The two similar situations illustrate where one of the lines are for heroism (as a game rule, not moralistically), and in this case, that line is action. It would seem it's not good enough just to have heroic intentions or bold feelings. It doesn't cut it to strike a pose and look cool for two seconds. The intent should be expressed through commitment to an action. The action is what proves the intent. For all we know, John wasn't ready to back up his posture. For all we know, he was terrified! Rose wasn't though. Her action proved it. Why does Rose lashing out in vengeance count as heroic? If you wanted my personal opinion on heroism, I would say a vengeful act is not heroic by itself. We all have our ideas on what heroism means. But I think this is the wrong question to ask. The concern here is less about the moral definition of a heroic act, and more about how heroism is defined in terms of a series of rules which a game system can enforce. Based on some evidence we have, and some things Doc once said about god tier immortality, it's pretty safe to make at least one generalization about heroism as a game construct. The game/story regards your behavior as Heroic if you make some effort to defeat or kill someone who is villainous (or in other words, someone worthy of a Just death). The state of the hero's mind is just an additional consideration, such as whether they happen to be motivated by anger or vengeance. But let's imagine for a moment that a vengeful act is automatically unworthy of heroism, even if directed against a great evil. Wouldn't this be a MAJOR loophole for god tiers to avoid dying heroic deaths? It would mean to qualify as a hero, you couldn't feel anger toward a villain who has almost certainly done something to provoke anger. If a hero ever experienced loss at the hands of a villain, their natural emotional state would exempt them from the heroic consequence of the actions resulting from that anger. They would be completely invulnerable to a villain, so long as they maintained a grudge! The thing with villains is, they tend to have a way of inflicting loss on others. If being wronged precluded heroic behavior, villains would suddenly discover heroes to be incredibly rare commodities. There's a lot to think about here. It's a combination of how you want to morally define heroism and justice, and how to pragmatically construct enforceable rules to that effect. The latter is something that can get very technical, and boil down to hairline actions such as whether one exhibits clear enough forward motion or such, roughly the way sports are officiated. There's no way I'll ever come up with a full list of rules, or even get much deeper into the rules than I have here. But I believe this is a rational outline for the way the subject may be examined, if you wish to do so!!!